I ll ■■■■nan m mm »■! 
 
 
 i TARRY-THOU- \ 
 
 I LLVSTFLATED edition: 
 
 vmanwnrwwvMMHMNwMnnMn 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Libbie J. oweetland 
 
Date Due 
 
 NOV 2. 
 
 1957 Kff 
 
 * 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 li 
 
 
 
 
 f .* 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ® 
 
 23 233 
 
 
 Cornell University Library 
 PR 4518.C55S16 1901 
 
 Tarry thou till I come; or, Salathlel, th 
 
 3 1924 013 468 677 
 
 I an 
 
 I 
 
The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013468677 
 
THULSTRUP ILLUSTRATED EDITION 
 
Copyright, 1901 
 By FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY 
 
 Published May, 1901 
 [Registered at Stationers' Hall, London] 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 First, Second and Third Editions, May, 1901 
 
 Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Editions, June, 1901 
 
 Eighth Edition, July, 1901 
 
 Ninth and Tenth Editions, August, 1901 
 
 Eleventh Edition, October, 1901 
 
 Twelfth, Thirteenth, and Fourteenth Editions, November, 1901, 
 
 Fifteenth Edition, December, 1901 
 
 Sixteenth Edition, January, 1902 
 
PUBLISHERS' NOTE 
 
 This remarkable historical romance is closely associated by 
 the author in his brief Preface with the early Second Coming 
 of Christ, a belief that is held to-day by a rapidly increasing 
 nmnber of people in all parts of Christendom. 
 
 The story was first published in 1827, and was issued at 
 different times under different titles, as "Salathiel, a Story 
 of the Past, the Present, and the Future"; and "Salathiel, 
 the Immortal, or the Wandering Jew." It had wide popu- 
 larity for a generation or more, the leading critical journals 
 in England and America giving it great praise. 
 
 In the present revival of the story, many typographical 
 and some other errors, that crept into the various editions, 
 have been carefully corrected, chapter and marginal head- 
 ings have been added, and the dialogs have been generally 
 broken up into paragraphs in harmony with the fashion of 
 to-day, and the whole book has been carefully annotated. 
 
 We are glad in the belief that we have carried out suc- 
 cessfully General Lewis Wallace's wish, that the story be 
 worthily illustrated. We were fortunate in securing a mas- 
 terful artist who shared the great enthusiasm of the author of 
 "Ben Hur" for this story of Croly's, and in his drawings 
 Mr. de Thulstrup has spared neither time nor labor, spending 
 many months, both here and in Em-ope, in the study of the 
 details necessary to perfect the pictures. We feel assured 
 that General Wallace will now wish to recast the closing 
 sentence of his Introductory Letter. 
 
 The words that doomed Salathiel to immortality on earth, 
 " Tarry Thou Till I Come," so fit the story that we have ven- 
 tured to make them the chief title, and have so combined the 
 new with the old that no one will be misled. The colored 
 
Ipubltsbers' IRote 
 
 frontispiece by Mr. de Thulstrup happily illustrates the new 
 title. 
 
 In the Appendix will be found a series of letters written for 
 this publication by thirty or more representative Jewish 
 scholars on "Jesus of Nazareth from the Present Jewish Point 
 of View." The Appendix contains other matter suggested 
 by the legend of "The Wandering Jew," prepared by D. S. 
 Gregory, LL.D., and by Arthur T. Pierson, D.D. The gen- 
 eral Intboduction is self-explanatory. 
 
 It is believed that no book now before the public can be 
 made nearly so helpful as this one in interesting the minds of 
 readers, young and old, in the events that closely followed in 
 Palestine the Crucifixion, and marked the conflict between 
 early Judaism and Christianity, and ended in the final 
 destruction of Jerusalem. 
 
 The reader will now and then be reminded of some of the 
 more striking passages in two or three of the popular religious 
 novels published in the past decade. But, as it is not given 
 even to great geniuses to remember forward, our author will 
 scarcely be exposed to the accusation of having borrowed 
 from these later writers. 
 
 All existing rights in this book held in this country or 
 England have been purchased by us. 
 
 Funk and Wagnalls Company. 
 
 New Yoke and London. 
 
 IV 
 
INTRODUCTORY LETTER 
 
 From General Lemis Wallace 
 
 (Author of "Ben Hur") 
 
 Cbawpordsvillb, Ind., September 1, 1900. 
 
 Gentlemen : I hare learned that you have in mind the is- 
 suance of a ne^w edition of Croly's story of "The Wandering 
 Jew." Perhaps you will lend a willing ear to a suggestion or 
 two, so much is the book in my love. 
 
 In my judgment, the six greatest English novels are " Ivan- 
 hoe," "The Last of the Barons," "The Tale of Two Cities," 
 "Jane Eyre," "Hypatia," and this romance of Croly's. If 
 Shakespeare had never been born; if Milton, Byron, and 
 Tennyson were singers to be, and Bacon, Darwin, and Euskin 
 unknown ; if there had been no British dramatists, no British 
 historians, no works ui British libraries significant of British 
 science and philosophy, no alcoves glutted with bookish re- 
 mains of British moralists and preachers, still the six works 
 named would of themselves sufSce to constitute a British 
 literature. 
 
 This is bold, I know : bold in assertion, and even bolder in 
 the lift of Croly's story from the ground to a place in the 
 upper sky. Can I justify the classification? Certainly, if 
 only your patience and my time permitted. 
 
 Here, to begin, is a broad adverse generality, — the very 
 worst of possible arguments against the book is, that of the 
 five great classics with which I have thrust it into associ- 
 ation, it is the least known to-day by the general public. 
 Yet the admission is not in the least decisive of merits ; in in- 
 quisitorial phrase it serves merely to put objections to question.s 
 It is a religious novel, says one, sneering. That used to 
 be urged against the "Pilgrim's Progress"; yet the Pilgrim 
 
f nttoouctocs Xettet 
 
 goes marching on, and I fancy his progress will stop only 
 when the world stops. And how is it that of late years, 
 at least, several novels religious in tone and spirit have been 
 more than well received? Indeed, is it not a fact that some 
 of them have attained extraordinary popularity, thus gain- 
 saying the narrow Puritanism which less than a century ago 
 put the novel under ban, regardless of kind and excellence? 
 
 Another objection. The style is somewhat too exalted; 
 and then the critic makes haste to stretch the alleged defect 
 to the author's want of art. Now, I would not like to be 
 dogmatic or unkind, but such points certainly disclose a la- 
 mentable comprehension. Why, coiled up in that objection 
 lie the very excellencies of the book. How, pray, could exal- 
 tation be avoided? Who does not know that in description 
 the sublime always imposes its own laws? Imagine, if you 
 can, the commonplace used by a narrator struggling to convey 
 an idea of the tremendous in a hurricane at sea. 
 
 And as to a want of art, I would like to say mildly that 
 the absence of art iu the book is its main charm. Any, the 
 slightest show of premeditation or design would have been 
 gross treason to nature. Does a woman, struck to the heart, 
 utter her grief by measure as a singer sings or a poet writes? 
 And how is it with a man in rage or pain? Yet, verily, there 
 was never a woman or a man in speech so impelled by a sting 
 of soul as Salathiel. 
 
 Passing, now, the matter of criticism and mere negative 
 dealing, I choose to be affirmative. Salathiel, the subject of 
 the book, was a Jew, and in rank a Prince of the Tribe of 
 Naphtali. In the persecution of Christ, his arrest, his trial, 
 his scourging, Salathiel was the leading insatiate ; and such, 
 doubtless, he would have contiaued down to the last minute 
 of the third hour of the Crucifixion but that the victim 
 stopped him. At what stage of the awful crime the stoppage 
 took place, the author leaves to iaference ; but how the inci- 
 dent befell and its almost inconceivable effect upon Salathiel, 
 no man should again try to describe. This is from Croly, his 
 words : 
 
 "But in the moment of exultation I was stricken. He 
 
 VI 
 
Introductots %ettet 
 
 who had refused an hour of life to the victim was, in terrible 
 retribution, condemned to know the misery of life intermi- 
 nable. I heard through all the voices of Jerusalem — I should 
 have heard through all the thunders of heaven — ^the calm, 
 low voice, ' Tarry thou till I come ! ' " 
 
 Such the retribution ; now the effect. 
 
 "I felt my fate at once! I sprang away through the shout- 
 ing hosts as if the avenging angel waved his sword above my 
 head. Wild songs, furious execrations, the uproar of myriads 
 stirred to the heights of passion, filled the air ; still, through 
 all, I heard the pursuing sentence, ' Tarry thou till I come,' 
 and felt it to be the sentence of incurable agony! I was 
 never to know the shelter of the grave ! " 
 
 And then follow five paragraphs, each beginning with the 
 same words uttered, as I imagine, in the tone of a shriek of 
 anguish, "Immortality on earth! " And of those paragraphs, 
 regarded as a dissection of the moral part of a man by virtue 
 of which he is susceptible of infinite happiness or infinite 
 misery, I say that for completeness and eloquence they are 
 without parallel in the language. Nor is that all. In those 
 paragraphs, one reading will find the definition of a punish- 
 ment which in subtlety, in torture, and in duration is as far 
 out of range of human origin as in execution it is out of range 
 of human power. Yet more. Instantly with the comprehen- 
 sion of the punishment defined, the immeasurable difference 
 between the agonies of death on a cross, though of days in 
 duration, and the agonies of immortal life under curse on earth, 
 becomes discernible. In that difference there is a divine 
 thought in anger, an avenging impulse. The superiority in 
 misery of the punishment of Salathiel, its term of sentence, 
 its depth of suffering, its superhuman passion of vengeance, 
 seem impossible to the all-patient Christ ; and while we are 
 considering its possibility, the book carries us to the question, 
 Is there a wandering Jew? 
 
 I think so. Let smile now who will ; yet, as I see, a whole 
 race is the multiple of the man, just as the man is the incar- 
 nation of the race. Israel, the plural, merges in Salathiel, 
 
 Tii 
 
■ffnttoauctotB Xcttet 
 
 the singular, insomuch that to think of the one is to think of 
 the other. In this instance, also, the similitudes become cre- 
 ative, and life, nature, history, and doom, sinking the race, 
 make room for the ■wandering Jew. 
 
 Not only do I think there is a wandering Jew, but I know 
 him intimately. To Croly he was a young man, a warrior ; 
 to me, he came an old man, a philosopher. Croly beheld him 
 irate, passionate, vengeful. I saw him wiser by many hun- 
 dreds of years, and repentant, and trying vainly to bring 
 about a brotherhood of man by preaching the unity of God. 
 With Croly, he was the Prince of Naphtali ; with me, he was 
 the Prince of India. 
 
 Eeturning now — with such a subject, dealt with so magnifi- 
 cently, I can not see how the great reading public in America 
 can be indifferent to a new edition of Croly's romance. Only 
 take us into your faith, gentlemen, and see to it that the issue 
 be worthy the theme. Be even luxurious with it ; give it fine 
 paper, wide margins, large type, and choice binding ; and, if 
 Gustave Dor^ were living, I would further beg you to have 
 the edition illustrated by him. 
 
 Very respectfully, 
 
 To Pimk & Wagnalla (hmp<my. 
 
 ▼lli 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 "Tabet thotj till I COME." These words smote Salathiel 
 like successive thunder-claps, the uttered without the noise 
 of speech. At once a doom and a prophecy — this Jesus, now 
 climbing Calvary to His death, would come again, and the 
 Jew could not perish from the earth until His coming ! 
 
 Our author, Dr. Croly, has based his story on this old, pa- 
 thetic legend. He believed that "The Wandering Jew"— 
 typical of the Jewish race — is about to end his wearisome 
 journeyings, as Christ is soon to come.* 
 
 That the Christ is coming, and that this coming is near at 
 hand, is believed to-day by millions. 
 
 He is coming — but how? 
 
 Hear Him : 
 
 The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven which a woman 
 hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened — 
 the life and nature of the leaven reappearing in the quickened 
 mass. 
 
 Again : The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard- 
 seed, the least of all seeds, so little that it is likely to be lost 
 sight of in the count of forces ; but it has life in it, and the 
 power to grow and multiply, and it spreads its branches in 
 every direction, each laden with seeds — the life and nature of 
 
 * It has been believed by msmy from the early ages of the Christian era that among 
 the signs of Christ's coming would be the recognition of Him by the Jews, as " one sent 
 of the Father," and that they would then be restored to the Father's favor ; that this 
 recognition would be accompanied by a recolonlzation of the Jews In Palestine ; that 
 from this vantage-ground, they, as a nation among nations— the " inherent genius of 
 the Jews for things religious " again reasserting itself— would lead the nations of earth 
 In final triumph into the kingdom of the spiritual man. 
 
 Frof. B. Gotthell, of Columbia TTnlverslty, and president of the Federation of Amer- 
 ican Zionists, said, before the Zionist Congress, in the summer of 1900, in London : " It 
 is thne the nations understood our motives. Our purpose is gradually to colonize Pal- 
 estine. We political Zionists desire a charter from the Sultan authorizing us to settle 
 in our Holy Land, and we ask the powers to approve and protect this charter." 
 
introouctton 
 
 the first grain reappearing in every one of the myriads of 
 grains. 
 
 And again : The kingdom of heaven is as if a man should 
 cast seed into the ground; and it should spring and gi-owup, 
 he kno-weth not how ; first the Wade, then the ear, after that 
 the full com in the ear. It is all natural : the earth does its 
 work; the sun, the air, the water do their work, and the life 
 and nature of the seed ^ow and multiply, reappearing in each 
 grain in exact accordance with the nature of the seed. It is 
 natural, but marvelous: the man "knoweth not how" it is 
 done ; but no one says, therefore, that that growth is super- 
 natural, miraculous. 
 
 Whence the germ of life in the seed? Whence the germ of 
 life in the kingdom of heaven? Who can tell? The wind 
 bloweth where it listeth. Thou seest the effect of it, but 
 canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth. So is 
 life wherever you find it, whether at the birth of a yeast- 
 plant, of grains of mustard-seed and of corn, or of the natural 
 and spiritual man. But the leaven, and the grains of mustard- 
 seed and of corn, and the kingdoms of the natural and the 
 spiritual man grow and reach perfection by natural processes 
 — that is, in harmony with cause and effect — each process 
 subject to critical and scientific analysis, if that analysis goes 
 deep enough, and wide enough, and far enough. 
 
 Life reappears in new life. The leaven and the seed and 
 the Christ-life all reincarnate themselves in more leaven, more 
 seed, more of the Christ life. "In that day," said Jesus, "ye 
 shall know that I am in you." Those who study the New 
 Testament can not but be impressed with how often, and under 
 how many forms, is there uttered the thought, Christ formed 
 in you. 
 
 This is the coming of Christ. Not that it is the only com- 
 ing; many millions of earnest men and women believe that in 
 the near future He will come in a way palpable to our physi- 
 cal senses as He came nineteen hundred years ago. " Ye men 
 of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same 
 Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in 
 like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven " (Acts i. 11). 
 
introouctton 
 
 Yet experiences on the physical plane are of little compara' 
 tive value — comparative. Jesus bade the doubting Thomas to 
 reach forth his hand and touch Him, that he might have tan- 
 gible evidence : Now, Thomas, you believe because you have 
 seen and felt ; but blessed is he vrho believes on the higher 
 plane of spiritual knomng. It is "an evil and adulterous 
 generation " that seeketh after proofs of spiritual things on 
 the sensuous level. Men saw and touched Jesus in Palestine 
 who were millions of miles from Him. Were Christ to ap- 
 pear in visible form, it might easily be of no value whatever 
 to come into physical contact with Him, to meet Him on 
 Broadway or on the Strand; but who can measure the value 
 of having Christ recreated in himself, as the leaven is recreated 
 in the meal, and as a seed is recreated in new seed, so that 
 men, when they see that man, and talk to him, and deal with 
 him, shall feel that they have been with Christ? 
 
 One day I saw in a neighbor's flower-bed a little plant, that, 
 as it pushed its way above the ground, had brought with it 
 the mother seed from which it grew. That was a literal 
 reappearance of the planted seed ; but it was not the reap- 
 pearance, not the resurrection of the seed, for which a seed 
 grows. 
 
 Christ came the first time into men's vision by coming on 
 the plane of their senses ; He comes the second time into men's 
 vision by lifting them up to His plane of spiritual comprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 This coming of Christ involves a new birth, a new creation, 
 a new kingdom. It means a new step in the evolution of 
 man. As man has stepped from the mineral kingdom to the 
 vegetable kingdom, and from the vegetable kingdom to the 
 animal kingdom, and from the animal kingdom to the king- 
 dom of the natural man,* so now he steps from the kingdom 
 of the natural man to the kingdom of the spiritual man, every 
 portion of this step a natural process subject to critical scien- 
 tific analysis, if that analysis goes deep enough, wide enough, 
 far enough. It is the continuance of evolution without a 
 
 * Tbls Is simply a name: botb kingdoms, tbat of the natural man and tbat ot tbe 
 tpllltual maOi are In banuony wiUi tbe laws of sequence. 
 
■Jntro^uctlon 
 
 break, -without a leap ("Nature never makes leaps," saya 
 Leibnitz; the leaps are only seeming), lifting the race by a 
 new birth through Christ the type-life up to the plane of 
 spiritual being and knowing. 
 
 Is the visible second coming of Jesus fancy or truth? Our 
 author believed it true, and increasing multitudes to-day be- 
 lieve it true. Among these are many of the foremost Chris- 
 tian teachers of this generation, as that trio of great preachers 
 recently dead, Charles H. Spurgeon, A. J. Gordon, and 
 DwightL. Moody; Newman Hall, Theodore Monod, Arthur 
 T. Pierson, F. B. Meyer, J. H, Brookes, C. Cuthbert Hall. 
 There is evidently near at hand an extraordinary revival of 
 this belief. 
 
 In the republication of this remarkable story about the Jew 
 who is "to wander on earth until Christ comes again," it has 
 seemed to me that it would not be inappropriate to give, by 
 way of Introduction, and in the Appendix, several lines of 
 thought bearing upon the coming of Christ. 
 
 The Essential CoMma of Chbist 
 
 This coming is in harmony with the laws of sequence and 
 continuity. 
 
 In each preceding step in the evolution of man the unfold- 
 ing of the physical basis of life was from below, but the life 
 itself was from above, never from below. Scientists are now 
 practically unanimous in saying that, "There is not a scin- 
 tilla of evidence that the inorganic or mineral world has ever 
 evolved a plant life." "To the scientist," says Darwin, "it 
 is a hopeless inquiry as to how life originated." " Life from 
 an egg," is still the latest dictum of science; that is, life only 
 from life.* Each of the successive steps or kingdoms has had 
 
 *" There ianot a shadow ol trustworthy direct evidence that ablogenesls tspontaneous 
 generation] does take place or has taken Iplace within the period durlns which the ex. 
 (stance of lUe on the globe Is recorded." —Huxley, under " Biology," Encyolopedlf 
 
Ifntroduction 
 
 its type-life. The plant — tliat is, the physical basis of the 
 plant life — ^came from the inorganic matter ; the animal — that 
 is, the physical basis of the animal life — came from the plant 
 and through the plant from the mineral kingdom ; the natural 
 man — that is, the physical basis of the life of the natural 
 man — came from the animal and the kingdoms below it ; the 
 spiritual man — that is, the physical basis of the life of the 
 spiritual man — comes from the natural man and the kingdoms 
 below him. 
 
 The development from kingdom to kingdom was a natural 
 unfolding ; yet the new creature of the next higher order al- 
 ways came through a new birth — a double birth: (1) the 
 birth of the new type-life of the next higher kingdom into the 
 evolutionary order of nature, through the hereditary chain; 
 and (2) the birth of each individual into this type-life. 
 
 None of the previous transitions from a lower to a higher 
 kingdom has taken pl£|.ce within historic times. The cradle at 
 Bethlehem flashes a searchlight down the spiral stairway up 
 which man has come from platform to platform, kingdom to 
 kingdom. Here at last we see that the type-life of the king- 
 dom of the spiritual man is born from above into the heredi- 
 tajy chain of evolution. Many times, and in many ways, 
 He declares I am "from above." He is bom a natural man, 
 and yet possesses the life of the kingdom next higher, and 
 proceeds to lift the natural man by a new birth into the king- 
 dom of the spiritual man. He is bom the son of man and 
 the son of God, bridging the chasm with His own being. 
 
 Again and again He says, " I am the life " ; " I have come 
 that ye may have life " ; except ye partake of Me " ye have no 
 life in you. " He calls Himself the " bread of life, " " the water 
 of life." This would all be meaningless were Christ talkiug 
 about the life of the kingdom of the natural man which all now 
 have and have had. 
 
 Britannlca, vol. 111., page 689. " These are the generations of every plant of the field 
 before It was in the earth."— Gen. 11. 4, 6. 
 
 " That It [human consdousnees] can not possibly be the product of any cilnnlng ar- 
 rangement of material particles is demonstrated beyond peradventure by what we now 
 know of the correlation of physical forces."— Flske, "The Destiny of Man," page 42. 
 "By no possibility can thought and feeling be in any sense the products of matter." 
 —Idem., page 109. 
 
fntro^uctton 
 
 As the spiritual type-life lifts the natural maa into the spiri- 
 tual kingdom, so the type-life of the natural man lifted the 
 animal into the kingdom of the natural man, and the animal 
 type-life lifted the vegetable, and the vegetable type-life lifted 
 the mineral. 
 
 There is no break in the golden thread that runs through 
 all this series of development from the mineral world up to 
 the new creature in Christ Jesus. There is nothing in this 
 last development contrary to nature; it follows along ex- 
 actly the same laws of natural unfoldment as did the other 
 kingdoms. The law of continuity holds.* Christ is bom 
 really into the kingdom of the natural man, and the natural 
 man is bom into the spiritual kingdom, through Christ, the 
 type-life. In this last stage of man's ascent, as in the 
 previous ones, nature makes "no leap." Think not, says 
 Christ, "that I have come to destroy the law; I have not 
 come to destroy, but to fulfil " ; I have come to carry on My 
 work in harmony with the processes of the universe. What 
 is law but the method that the immanent God, everywhere 
 and forever, pursues in His work? Tme, segments of the 
 circle He follows are easily out of the reach of our vision. 
 Huxley tells us that he has no doubt that even on the physi- 
 cal plane, most important work is being done far beyond the 
 reach of the most powerful microscope. He might have said, 
 and kept easily within bounds, the most important work. 
 
 The crystal is matter plus the principle of crystallization ; 
 so the plant, the animal, the natural man — always the creature 
 of the kingdom below with the plus sign, for a birth is an 
 unfoldment and something more. And so, the Christ life takes 
 the character, the soul, the spirit of the natural man, which 
 have developed through the ages — takes them through a new 
 birth, this time with man's consent. "Marvel not that I say 
 
 * Alfred Eussel Wallace, who was Joint discoverer with Darwin ol evolution, and Is 
 Its (freatest living exponent, in his book " Darwinism," page 474, shows the fallacy as 
 to new causes involving any breach of continuity — these new causes embracing vege- 
 table life, animal life, and the higher powers of man. He says, page 476 : " Still more 
 surely can we refer to it |.the spiritual world] those progressive manifestations of Ufe 
 In the vegetable, the animal, and man." Also, In " Natural Selection," page 185 : " The 
 higher powers in man are surest proof that there are other and higher existences than 
 ourselves, from whom these qualities may have been derived, and toward whom we may 
 be ever tending." 
 
 xiv 
 
Vnttoductfon 
 
 imto you, ye must be bom again. " " Verily, verily, I say unto 
 tbee, except a man be born from above lie can not see the 
 kingdom of God" (John iii. 3). Ye are "babes in Christ," 
 "Ye are new creatures." We become heirs "of God through 
 Christ, " crying " Abba, Father. " "In love' s hour Eternal Love 
 conceives in us the child of God " through the spiritual type- 
 life Christ Jesus. 
 
 Christ could not have been more explicit or more scientif- 
 ically exact in declaring Himself the type-life of the spiritual 
 man. "I am the door," "the way," "the life"; "no man 
 can come to the Father but by Me." "He that hath the Son 
 hath life ; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life " ; 
 he may be a Caesar leading armies against Pompey, or a 
 Cicero declaiming his matchless orations against Cataline, and 
 yet be dead. 
 
 In the inspired picture-history of creation, an Adam is the 
 type-life of the kingdom of the natural man ; in the New Tes- 
 tament, Christ is presented in every way as the type-life of 
 the kingdom of the spiritual man. "The first man Adam was 
 made a living soul ; the last Adam was made a quickening 
 spirit. Howbeit that was not first which is spiritual, but that 
 which is natural; and afterward that which is spiritual" (1 
 Cor. XV. 46, 46). 
 
 Here, also, the law of conformity to type is manifest. 
 Each type-life is perfect, but those who are bom through the 
 type-life begin at the bottom ; the " fall " is great from the 
 type-life to the beginning of growth in the next higher king- 
 dom. But from that onward the battle of evolution is to se- 
 cure likeness to the type. "We all, with open face beholding 
 as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same 
 image from glory to glory " (2 Cor. iii. 18). We shall be 
 "conformed to the image of His Son" (Kom. viii. 29). "As 
 we have borne the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the 
 image of the heavenly " (1 Cor. xv. 49) . After the night is 
 over we shall awake in His likeness. 
 
 Newton said that he made a splendid guess at the universal 
 law of gravitation when he saw the apple fall. Why may it 
 
UnttoOuction 
 
 not be permissible for us to guess, from the law of conformity 
 to type, that ia every kingdom the new creature carries with it 
 the pattern of its type-life, and that after this pattern, in the 
 lower kingdoms, the accompanying cells strive to weave a na- 
 ture corresponding with its kingdom, and in the kingdom of 
 the spiritual man the Holy Spirit strives to weave the nature 
 of the spiritual man? * 
 
 In the lower kingdoms it is a survival of the fightest, in the 
 highest a survival of the fittest, the struggle for life for our- 
 selves merging into a struggle for life for others. Even among 
 men in the earlier days, to discover the greatest man, the 
 measuring-string was placed around the muScle. That was 
 the age of Hercules. Then the time came when the measur- 
 ing-string was placed around the head. That was the age of 
 Bacon and Shakespeare. But the time comes in the rapidly 
 advancing future when the measuring-string will be placed 
 around the heart, and he who measures most there will be 
 most conformed to the Master, for he is greatest who most 
 fully gives himself for others. 
 
 Evolution goes on, hereafter, in the inner and upper world, 
 outside and beyond our vision, making many and many varia- 
 tions doubtless, as in the lower realms. In the Father's spiri- 
 tual house also are many mansions. We are stepping from 
 the physiological to the psychological, from body and mind 
 to spirit. As in all previous growth, the latest type-life is 
 reappearing in His generation— in the "new creatures " of His 
 kingdom. 
 
 n 
 
 The outward evolution— that of the physical— marvelous be- 
 yond thought, is comparatively insignificant. The chief evolu- 
 tion has been and is within. The scientist is unscientific who 
 ignores the greater evolution and builds his explanatory system 
 
 thi »i,h™f*°'""f *1^ "'■"f^ ''""^ "^ """"' "° *« seml-fluia globule of protoplasm of 
 »?rt ^T^T^\T^ ^ ^'T" l"™!""*""? possessed by the notion tbat some more subUe 
 !i2if„I?^f., ^m*? '^"""'"t"' ^""Id snow the hidden artist, with his plan before him, 
 ^ving with skilful manipulation to perfect his worli.-HuiIey. " Lay Sermons," ^ 
 
UntcoOuctton 
 
 on tlie lesser — on the least. Psychology is also a science. 
 Has nature one method for the development of the physical 
 part of man's being, and another for the development of the 
 non-material and spiritual? Nature is not divided. What 
 means the hereditary likeness, mental and spiritual — not less 
 marked than the physical? These marks often skip many 
 generations and then reappear again in full. They can not, 
 therefore, be the result of education or imitation. Nor is it 
 easy to believe that they were placed within us by a direct act 
 of creation, as the old-fashioned theological professor taught 
 that God mixed the fossils with the plastic stones at creation, 
 somewhat as a cook mixes raisins and other fruits in the dough 
 for her plum-pudding. 
 
 What means the gradual development in the brain of the 
 cerebrum and cerebellum, the organs of the soul powers, en- 
 larging from generation to generation? These are scarcely 
 visible in the lowest animals. They become larger as we ad- 
 vance up the animal scale of intelligence, or psychic power; 
 large in the ape, who came far along the same line that man 
 came ; four times as large in the lowest Zulu as in the ape, 
 but far larger in the European and American civilized man — ■ 
 thus slowly made perfect through awful struggles and suffer- 
 ings, painfully growing a million years or more. Is it not 
 then reasonable to believe that there is a corresponding psychic 
 or soul development from generation to generation ia the 
 unseen individuality, the ego, which uses the cerebrum and 
 cerebellum as organs ; that up the spiral stairway of evolu- 
 tion the whole man has come, — his personality, with its soul 
 powers, and the physical organs of these powers in the brain, 
 and the entire physical man? 
 
 To-day, in the unfolding embryo of every child, nature mar- 
 Telously and clearly retells the history of the evolution of the 
 physical nature of the human race from the one-celled mon- 
 eron to the billion-celled man. For the embryo of the child 
 is a historic map, done in flesh and blood, of the evolution of 
 man, of the forms he has assumed, broadly speaking, as he 
 climbed nature's stairway.* 
 
 • Romanes, In " Darwin and After Darwin," chapter It., says that the embryo Is a r^ 
 sum€ or recq)itulatiQn ot the saccesslre phases through which the being has been de> 
 
 XTii 
 
"ffntroouction 
 
 Is it hard to iDelieTe that our individuality has been born 
 and reborn through the line of ancestry back to the type-lives, 
 and through them back to the "begiuning," when God took 
 of His own life to develop, through ages of conflict, personal- 
 ities other than His own who would, of their own free will, 
 choose goodness? Is it hard to believe that at every successive 
 birth each parent has placed his stamp upon the individuality, 
 but that the individuality has perdured being reborn again and 
 again into successive higher kingdoms? Does it seem hard to 
 believe that we should be born many times? Is it then harder 
 to believe that we should be bom after we have lived than 
 that we should be bom when we have not lived? The pro- 
 foundest mystery is in the first birth, in which we all believe. 
 And why should it be thought by us incredible that, with the 
 mingling of the parental cells, the individuality exactly fitted 
 should be reborn in the line of heredity, receiving the parental 
 stamp, being attracted by the law which answers to that law 
 which glides the atom unerringly to its place in the crystal 
 — that same law wonderfully exalted? Whatever and wher- 
 ever character is, it must be obedient to the law that draws it, 
 for the law of attraction is even more irresistible in the inner 
 world than is the law of gravitation in the outer world. Every 
 man as he comes to his birth comes to his own place ; in a 
 profound sense he chooses his parents and his surroundings. 
 As he was, he is, plus his birth-gain and his growth through 
 consent and volition ; his past leads him. 
 
 And in this last transition each man is conscious that his 
 individuality continues, altho he passes from one kingdom 
 into the next. The dictum of science is " no leap, no break " 
 — continuity. Then it is reasonable to believe that the indi- 
 viduality will continue through succeeding future changes, as 
 it has continued these millions of years through the successive 
 past changes. It would require much credulity to believe that 
 nature has travailed in pain these untold ages to develop a 
 personality that would of its own free will choose goodness, 
 only to destroy that personality as soon as made. John Mske 
 
 veloped, with eiplanaWe omiBsIons. On page 102 lie tells of the young salamander 
 that is so complete In Its gills shortly before birth that U It Is removed from the womb 
 and placed In water It will be able to live, breathing like a flsh thivugb its gills. 
 
 xviU 
 
fntto^uctlon 
 
 has well said : * " The materialistic assumption that the life of 
 the soul ends with the life of the body, is perhaps the most 
 colossal instance of assumption that is known in the history 
 of philosophy." 
 
 That was a provincial notion about the universe which was 
 held before Copemicus's time — the belief that the sun, planets, 
 stars, all revolved around the earth. Copernicus was called 
 the destroyer of faith and bitterly denounced. His idea 
 made the earth but a speck, and the Milky Way — billions of 
 miles long — the mere yard-stick of the universe. All this 
 has immensely enlarged faith — did not destroy it. Darwin, 
 too, was called the destroyer of faith ; but now we begin to 
 see that evolution, in giving man countless eons of growth, in- 
 stead of keeping him a creature of yesterday, bounded by the 
 cradle and grave, has immensely enlarged faith, and beyond 
 thought has added to the dignity of man. 
 
 Ill 
 
 At each succeeding birth the individuality, to thrive, must 
 be in harmony with its changed surroundings, and the cells 
 that swarm in every organized body struggle to bring this to 
 pass. It is the business of the cell to obey the pushings of 
 the governing force in the organization to which it belongs. 
 The plant needs water, minerals, air, sunshine. Its attendant 
 cells hear the cry of their master and build roots into the 
 ground and branches into the air, and weave leaves into lungs 
 and laboratories. Note a vine in some cave — how it works 
 its way toward the hole through which sunshine is streaming, 
 and how it causes some roots to bmld out toward a vein of 
 water ; others toward a skeleton many feet away and along the 
 boiies of that skeleton — hungering and thirsting for minerals, 
 water, light, heat. Hungering and thirsting — asking, knock- 
 ing — the plant receives. Seek and ye shall find; strive and 
 it shall be yours. This is the law in the plant life, the law 
 in the animal life, in the life of the natural man, in the life 
 of the spiritual man. 
 
 * " Tbe Sestlnr of Han," fage 110. 
 
UntroOuction 
 
 In a deep sense, as a man thinketh so lie is= The universe 
 of cells within each man calls him "master." Ye are gods; 
 kings upon thrones ; your slightest wish is heaxd ; your earnest, 
 persistent desire compels obedience. Answer to prayer is a 
 growth, a buiiJing up or down to what you wish. Wishing 
 is asking. Ask what you will, and from that instant receiv- 
 ing, you receive. 
 
 Christ can never fully come into a man until the man has 
 grown up to the level of spiritual things. It is a sensuous 
 generation that seeks to be satisfied with consolation through 
 the physical senses. 
 
 All of our faculties carry their own demonstrations of truth 
 up to the level of their development. To the pure and loving, 
 purity and love need no witnesses. Every man has had placed 
 in his hand a latch-key to the beauty and wisdom — to all of the 
 excellences of the universe ; but there is only one way of using 
 that latch-key effectively. "We must grow to a level with the 
 latch. I must have an eye fitted for the landscape, and must 
 have a poetic soul before the landscape can read its poetry to 
 me. I may believe that Beethoven's Ninth Symphony is 
 music because a master of music has told me so ; that is belief 
 based on authority ; or, I may measure the waves of sound 
 and scientifically demonstrate that it is music; but such 
 evidences are beggarly, and praise based on them would drive 
 a composer mad. But let me hunger and thirst after music ; 
 seek, pray for musical sight and soul until I develop up to the 
 level of Beethoven's Symphony; then as quickly as I hear it 
 I exclaim : " That is music ! " Do you ask : " Who told you? " 
 I answer : "No one ; I know it! " My latch-key enters, for I 
 am on a level with the latch. I asked, I sought, I knockedj 
 until I grew up into the musical world. I must grow up to 
 God before I can know Him ; I must grow up to Christ before 
 I can see Him. The pure in heart shall see and hear spiritual 
 things. I must be on God's level before even the lowly flower 
 can tell me the thought that was in His mind when He 
 created it. 
 
 Seek is the law of growth in all kingdoms ; and it is the 
 law of development and of the adjustment of the feeders 
 
introouctton 
 
 through which each kingdom asserts itself to its creatures and 
 gives them their food and consolation. "Who has not smiled 
 many times at the serio-humorous reflection of Eobert Louis 
 Stevenson on hearing of the death of Matthew Arnold : " So, 
 Arnold is dead! I am sorry; he won't like God." There is 
 a profoundly solemn truth under this witticism. 
 
 There is health for the plaut in sun-rays ; the plant had 
 the need of light, and its cells heard the cry and groped 
 toward the Ught. That capacity for light aud that groping 
 of the cells proved the existence of the sun. The conscious 
 feeling after God among people everywhere proves the exist- 
 ence of God and of the spiritual world. 
 
 The new-born child must adjust its lungs to the atmosphere 
 into which it comes or it must die. It hereafter must eat and 
 drink with its mouth, breathe with its lungs ; it must have new 
 feeders. The bird, as it chips its way out of the egg, adjusts 
 itself to its new surroundings. It is a hard trial often for a 
 child to be weaned, yet it is love that does it. It is done to 
 give it more abundant life, not less. 
 
 This is the meaning of seK-denial, fasting, repentance, 
 suffering — the weaning of the feeders from the old to the new 
 environment — ^the feeders that give food and consolation. We 
 enter into the kingdom of the spiritual man as the babe enters 
 into the kingdom of the natural man. Every new creature 
 grows up from the grave of the old. Up the stairs of holy 
 patience we climb the heights of the inner kingdom. Our 
 win henceforth is to yield our will, but the sensuous man con- 
 tests every inch with the spiritual. The perishing of the old 
 man day by day is painful, and so is the renewal of the inner, 
 for birth also is painful. We leam to love love, hate hate, 
 and fear only fear ; but every move upward has in it birth- 
 pangs. We are in the soul's gymnasium — on its battle-field. 
 The creature was made subject to vanity for a cause.* Says 
 Euskin : "I do not wonder often at what men suffer, but I 
 wonder at what they lose." 
 
 * " It Is an Inevitable deduction from the hypothesis of evolution that races of sentient 
 creatures could have come Into existence under no other conditions [than those of 
 pains and pleasures]."—" Data of Ethics," Herbert Spencer, section 33. 
 
 xxi 
 
Dnttoductton 
 
 How strange it is to look into a human face, and to look 
 into human eyes, and to think that a son of the living Ood is 
 veiled there— to think of the greatness of that creature, for 
 the accomplishment of which all creation on earth has been 
 in travail for these untold ages ! 
 
 Often not anything extraordinary impresses us as -we see 
 the Christ-nature in a comrade ; but wait ; we see this kingdom 
 of the soul only in its germ. The bulb of the tiger-lily is not 
 over-pretty, but to the eyes that see the possibilities of the 
 tiger-lily that bulb is a poem. The step from the highest 
 morality of the natural man to the lowest round in the king- 
 dom of the spiritual man is a stupendous one. John the 
 Baptist was the greatest of those bom of women; but the 
 least in the new kingdom of the spiritual man is greater 
 than he. 
 
 Do not say that you can not be bom again. You can and 
 must. It is natural to step into this kingdom, as natural as 
 growth is. The natural response of the heart is Christian, 
 says Tertullian. Our experience supports and justifies this 
 necessity. 
 
 The great original sculptors of Greece, whom all the world 
 now studies, stayed at home to study as Emerson would say, 
 and did not bother much with going to Egypt or Mesopotamia. 
 God is a rewarder of those that diligently seek Him, not by 
 imitation, not outwardly, not with the noise of words that 
 men may hear, but in the closet, in the silence of the inner 
 chamber of the soul. Every man must find himself, and be 
 himself ; the new birth and growth in Christ make perfect 
 each man's individuality. But there must be another con- 
 ception of God than that against which the Buddhists warn 
 us, that He is a "cow to be milked." 
 
 God hid Himself behind the world of our physical senses 
 that we, free of all compulsion, might develop the spiritual 
 man. When that is developed, God can safely reveal His 
 infinite power and wisdom and goodness. "Who could make 
 free choice in the conscious presence of an infinite One? 
 
 Evolution is a sword that cuts both ways. It chooses, it 
 condemns. The fittest survive. There are many called, i)ut 
 
mttoDuction 
 
 few chosen. The most pathetic and pitiful thing in all the 
 world is to see the multitudes striving to get out of the king- 
 dom of the natural man what is not in it. 
 
 Punishment comes — it, too, is natural; and it is largely 
 within. Degeneracy, through persistent wrong-choosing, is 
 the law of nature — fixed, inevitable. If a man will not 
 choose to ascend, he loses his power to choose. 
 
 IV 
 
 The scientist is short-sighted and narrow-sighted who 
 walls science in at the boundary of his senses — a mole ac- 
 counting for phenomena, and leaving out the eye ; a Laura 
 Bridgeman accounting for whatever came into her life by her 
 two or three physical senses. 
 
 Foolish wise men, not to know that the surest of all proofs 
 is to be looked for in inner experience ; that the most real 
 things in the world are made clear not by physical proof, but by 
 life I Darwin reached the point where poetry and music were 
 little to him ; yet the world of music and of beauty are more 
 certain than is Mont Blanc or Mount Washington ; but there 
 is only one way to know them, and that is to grow the facul- 
 ties of music and beauty. To the Eoman soldiers who may 
 have heard it, how unsubstantial was the Sermon on the 
 Mount ; yet its truths of the brotherhood of man, of the father- 
 hood of God, of meekness, of loving, of justice, of faith in 
 the inner things, outlasted the Eoman armies, saw the empire 
 ground to dust, and their speaker, one thousand nine hundred 
 years afterward, by far the most potent personality that ever 
 lived. The mother's love will outpuU gravity, and yet what 
 scientist has chemically analyzed it, or what dissecting-knife 
 has revealed its whereabouts? There are brute women to 
 whom this love is "unthinkable," "unknowable," but let them 
 grow the mother-heart, and then they can think it, know it. 
 
 Foolish wise men, ye can discern the shadow of things ; look 
 up and behold the substance! Eochefort said to Gambetta: 
 "Deafness is not politics." When wUl scientists learn that 
 true science must have eyes and ears open to all experience 
 within as well as without. 
 
 xxlii 
 
Introduction 
 
 Once scientists among moles held a congress, and learnedly 
 resolved that they would helieve in nothiag that could not be 
 submitted for proof to their four senses. One learned mole 
 with bated breath said : " There must be something above our 
 four senses. I one day broke through the crust of the earth 
 and felt strange sensations, and had a glimmeriag in the rudi- 
 ments called eyes by our older philosophers." "Nonsense! " 
 said a grayhead among them. " Let us have no transcendent- 
 alism ; everything that is must be explained by sound, or by 
 touch, or by smell, or by the taste. All this talk of a great 
 central sun with light, making landscapes and from which all 
 things come, we have no way of proving ; and hence to believe 
 it, or to admit it as an element in accounting for things, is 
 unscientific. The scientific method, let us never forget, is to 
 account for all things by the elements which come within the 
 range of our four senses and the reasoning based upon these 
 perceptions." 
 
 So it happens that to this day in the cosmic science accepted 
 among moles the sun has nothing to do with the growth of 
 plants, the formation of coal-beds, and the rotation of the 
 seasons. 
 
 How imperfect that history that would content itself with 
 writing a biography of the acorn, and never take into account 
 the oak that comes from the acorn and for which the acom 
 exists ! The oak reveals the acom ; without the oak the acom 
 is not explicable. How can any one understand the evolution 
 of man and not consider the vastly greater segment of his 
 nature, which is the non-material and spiritual? The scien- 
 tist believes in the indestructibility of matter. The step is a 
 short one to the belief in the indestructibility of spirit. He 
 believes in substance infinitely extended; the step is not a 
 long one to belief in the personality that is infinitely extended. 
 He believes that in all matter is a "thinking substance." Is 
 it harder to believe that over and in all things is a thinking 
 spirit?* The scientist endows matter with the powers it 
 
 * " We adhere flnnly to the pure, unequivocal monism of Sptnoza : Matter, or Infl- 
 nltely extended substance, and spirit (or energy), or sensJUve and thinking substance, 
 are the two fundamental attributes or principal properties of the aU-embracIng divine 
 essence of the world, the universal substance."—" The Riddle of the Unlverae." Ernst 
 Haeckel, p. 21. 
 
 zxiv 
 
Untroductfon 
 
 needs to do all these things, and then says it does all these 
 things. 
 
 Yet science, when it comes to know, when it comes to take 
 in all the facts, to go deep enough, and wide enough, and 
 far enough, will be the arbiter. Creed, dogma, authority, 
 must give way to it. Magellan said : " The Church declares 
 the world is flat, but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and 
 I had rather believe a shadow than the Church." That is 
 true only when the Church makes provision for but a part of 
 the truth, and when science is true to itself. The assumptions 
 of science and the assumptions of the Church will have to be 
 corrected by experience, the experience of the whole man. 
 
 Christ is not an idealism, but a living, throbbing, visible, 
 audible Being — the real Christ ; the body in Galilee was the 
 shadow, the outward shell that could be crushed. The One 
 now coming is the Mighty One who is out of the reach of 
 stones and spears, the type-life and potent King of the king- 
 dom of the spiritual man. And he who hath Him also hath 
 power. " Ye shall receive power " (Acts i. 8) . " Stephen, 
 fuU of faith and power" (Acts vi. 8). "The kingdom of 
 God is not in word, but in power " (1 Cor. iv. 20) . Says 
 Paul of those at Corinth who found fault with him : I will 
 not know their speech, but their power (1 Cor. iv. 19). He 
 who has not power is not of the kingdom of the spiritual man, 
 for "whatsoever is born of God overeometh the world." 
 This Christ is a present force in the world, producing changes, 
 quickening and directing energies, and must be reckoned with. 
 Christian civilization also proves itself by its power. 
 
 But to see Him this time we must have eyes and ears fitted 
 to recognize the manifestations of the inner kingdom — the 
 kingdom of all first causes and real forces. He is not coming 
 with the noise of trumpets, nor with whirlwinds, nor with 
 earthquakes ; but with the silence of the growth of the mus- 
 tard-seed, of the leaven, of the grain of corn reaching up to 
 the blade and full corn in the ear. 
 
 There can be nothing more manifest to-day to the optie 
 
ITntrodttCtfon 
 
 nerve of the spiritual man than is this coming. The lightning 
 flashing from the east to the west is not nearly so manifest. 
 
 Every event is alive with His appearing. His presence is 
 the most evident thing in the world, the very splendor of the 
 light hides Him. "Lo, I am with you alway!" is now 
 known by millions to be a vital, stupendous fact. He is 
 nearer to such a heart than the mother to the babe. 
 
 This coming is in harmony with recognizable law ; belief in it 
 is logic, is common sense. It would be extraordinary, miracu- 
 lous, if He did not now come. When it is our will to do His 
 will, we become the reincarnation of Christ, for "Christ is 
 formed in us." When the dominating ones in a community, 
 in a church, in a nation, in the world, are of this sort, you 
 see Christ reincarnated in all these. Moses, David, John, 
 Plato, Augustine, Savonarola, Bunyan, were great ideal dream- 
 ers, but they were also geniuses of common sense. These 
 men were primarily men of faith and great good sense, not 
 of credulity. They had the power and common sense to 
 know that there were voices within, and to withdraw their at- 
 tention from the voices without and give the real world a 
 chance to be heard. They knew that the universe would fall 
 into chaos and that stars would be ground to dust if these 
 worlds were disobedient to law. They knew that there was 
 an inner universe, and that there were inner laws infinitely 
 more important. They knew it to be the A B C of common 
 sense to conform to these inner laws. Christ was and is the 
 embodiment of common sense; and so His followers become 
 as they grow into the new creatures of the kingdom of the 
 spiritual man. 
 
 There are voices within distinct and clear to those who have 
 ears to hear ; clearer than silver bells ringing up in air at 
 midnight. One who has grown this spiritual nature ceases to 
 talk about the inward world being silent or hid — yet there are 
 clouds and doubts. These things must needs be — these as- 
 sailed Christ to the last. And if angels do not also follow, 
 ministering to us, it is because we have not reached the plane 
 of spiritual seeing. Help is always near, and it should not 
 be necessary for a prophet's hand to touch our eyes to enable 
 
 XZTi 
 
fntcoDuct(on 
 
 us to see the mountaiiis covered with heavenly allies, or to en- 
 able us to know the signs of the times. There is no room for 
 fear. Bismarck spoke with the accents of a prophet when he 
 said: "Germany fears nothing but God." The cry is gone 
 out to the ends of the earth : " Great is the soul of man ; make 
 way, make way ! " 
 
 These signs of a mighty change are deepening and multiply- 
 ing as we swing iuto the new century. The Jewish people 
 were to be trodden underfoot until the inner kingdom of love 
 should be established ; that barbarism of hate is now rapidly 
 dying. 
 
 Were we wise enough, events all around us would be to us 
 prophecies of the coming of the triumphant God, of the king- 
 dom of the spiritual man. 
 
 "Watch ! By watching we develop the ability to discern 
 things beyond the senses. 
 
 Above every cloud the light is now breaking ; the earth is 
 rolling into the dawn of a marvelous day. 
 
 The yoke of ecclesiasticism is giving way to the yoke of 
 Christ. Creed is the memory of the Church. The real yoke 
 of Christ is not a burden; it has wings. He is sweetness and 
 light. Let criticism have its way. The testing-time has 
 come, give it welcome. A man must now stand a vital 
 Christian, or a hypocrite, or an open enemy — that will be a 
 great gain. Creeds to-day are trying to understand one an- 
 other. Christianity is being reduced to its least common de- 
 nominator, a living Christ. The church is finding it harder 
 and harder to think of itself as a great-great-grandchild. It 
 is coming to believe in its present experiences, and to write its 
 own creeds for to-day, and not for to-morrow. Siace God is, 
 the Church and the world will not necessarily fall to pieces if 
 they let go their props and scaffoldings. If there be no God, 
 creeds and forms and ceremonies are necessities. A living 
 God is efficient and sufficient. 
 
 There is no more unfailing sign of the nearness of Christ 
 than the growth of loving beyond the provincialism of the fam- 
 ily, the clan, the class, the nation. "Ye are brethren." All 
 things in common, was not an impracticable dream, but a 
 
 xxvii 
 
fntro&uction 
 
 fundamental law of the kingdom of the spiritual Man. We 
 must organize sooner or later on that basis. We are speed- 
 ing onward toward that sun. We feel its growing heat. If 
 we do not love our brethren whom we have seen, how can we 
 love God whom we have not seen? What do ye mean by the 
 communion of saints, ye who pray it Sunday by Sunday? 
 SpeU it out. Brotherhood is not a fiction of the imagination. 
 Communion is not a Pentecostal fantasy. A living Christ is 
 to-day more than ever on earth an aggressively unifying force. 
 Immensely human was Christ's message to man — ^Brotherhood 
 and Fatherhood, and by those tokens we recognize His present 
 footsteps. 
 
 Judge these things as you would the motions of the hands 
 of the clock. Look back a half dozen centuries and make 
 comparisons. War is recognized more and more as a barbar- 
 ism, and its end is over yonder hill. The court of nations to 
 settle wrongs is looming above the horizon. The nation that 
 loves its fellow nations is also born of God. 
 
 The humanities are in order. Over one hundred and ten 
 million dollars were contributed in the United States for edu- 
 cational and other charities within the last two years.* Nearly 
 two million dollars were given to suffering Galveston; and 
 Carnegie's immense benefactions are but one of the many indi- 
 cations of the full dawning of the day of living for others. 
 
 A single individual the other day, a member of an unpopular 
 race, is wronged in France, and all the world is aroused, and 
 flashes thunderbolts of wrath under oceans and across con- 
 tinents until there is a beginning to right the wrong. Man- 
 kind is rapidly becoming 
 
 "... One in spirit, and In Instinct bears along 
 Around the earth's electric circle tbe swltt flash of right and wrong." 
 
 The marvelous sowing about the Sea of Galilee is reaching 
 its ripening. The leaven is leavening the whole lump. The 
 mustard-seed reappears in hundreds and hundreds of millions 
 of seed. Cuba is helped to freedom for its own sake ; the 
 Russian Czar — he at least — in sincerity says : " War should 
 end." In business it is ceasing to be a maxim that the benefit 
 
 * From advance sheets of " Appleton's Annual Cjclopffidla " for 190L 
 xxvlii 
 
TnttoDuctfon 
 
 of the one is ever opposed to the benefit of the many. We 
 are learning that the Golden Eule and the law of self- 
 preservation run parallel. Applied to commercialism, the 
 Golden Rule is so to make money as to give a benefit also to 
 \iim from whom you make it; and that, too, is common sense. 
 The children of the inner kingdom never crowd : the more, the 
 more room. 
 
 In all these things we see just the beginnings of the results 
 of His coming : all men of one family, God the Father, and 
 Christ the eldest Brother; the sacredness of truth, of the 
 soul, of all life ; the reality of the inner world. 
 
 Man has climbed up in countless ages by the slow processes 
 of evolution to where he can use the powers of nature through 
 his brain — becoming a coworker with God in guiding the 
 processes of evolution. Now, being reborn into the inner 
 kingdom, he starts on a new and infinitely higher destiny. 
 Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, the things that are laid up 
 for those thus bom. 
 
 With a boundless universe within and without, and an in- 
 finite God, and with an eternity to live and work in, many, 
 many things can take place, and it is God's good pleasure 
 that they shall never take place to our hurt. The creature of 
 the kingdom of the spiritual man is injury-proof. 
 
 And the command is : " Be ye perfect as your Father is 
 perfect " ; ever approaching Him in countless ages and reach- 
 ing Him at the end of eternity, had eternity an end ; but since 
 it has no end, in whatever distant period and however great 
 the distance between us, God is still the Infinite One and we 
 the finite ones. 
 
 Ah, how men err ! The Eoman Emperor, after his awful 
 massacre of Christians, set up a column in memory of the 
 extinction of the last Christian. But the Eoman empire is 
 in dust, and now the world is rapidly becoming wholly Chris- 
 tian ; and were that Emperor alive, he, quite likely, would 
 applaud the result. God's stoppings are from star to star. 
 Who knoweth His counsel? 
 
 We look back over the conflict of the ages of evolution; we 
 now see, in the changing of the dunghill into shrubs and roses 
 
 xxix 
 
InttoOuctlon 
 
 and into food, the prophecy of all, and we marvel at our 
 blindness in not knowing that the most manifest thing in all 
 the world, and at all times, was God the Father working for 
 good, whom again and again, we have compelled to cry out in 
 pain (for God can suffer pain) : The reproaches of men have 
 broken my heart. Looking backward, we begin to see the 
 good in everything, that there has not been a fall of a sparrow 
 without accompanying provision for the sparrow, and we grow 
 enthusiastic and shout with the martyr of old : " Glory be to 
 God for everything that happens ! " Hand-in-hand we walk 
 with the great Father over the ages of history, riding victo- 
 rious over mountain-tops. 
 
 We see, modifying the words of John Fiske, that in the 
 roaring loom of time, out of the endless web of events, strand 
 by strand, was woven more and more clearly the living gar- 
 ment of God. 
 
 When Christ had passed beyond the grave. He said 
 "Mary," and Mary said "Master"; they spake, they under- 
 stood, tho death and the grave intervened. The world of 
 the physical senses has no barrier that hinders knowing in the 
 kingdom of the spiritual man. 
 
 "The Wandering Jew" is near the end of his wanderings. 
 
 As reasoned the Apostle : * If the Gentiles were cut out of 
 the olive-tree which is wild by nature, and were grafted con- 
 trary to nature into a good olive-tree, how much more shall 
 the Jews, which be the natural branches, be grafted into their 
 own olive-tree? For God is able to graft them in again. For 
 I would not, brethren, that you should be ignorant of this 
 mystery, lest ye should be wise in your own conceits : that 
 blindness in part has happened to Israel, until the fulness of 
 the Gentiles he come in. AND SO ALL ISEAEL SHALL 
 BE SAVED. 
 
 I. K. F. 
 
 New York, April 15, 1901. 
 
 * Rom. xi. 
 
AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 These has appeared from time to time ia Europe, during 
 the past thousand years, a mysterious individual — a sojourner 
 in all lands, yet a citizen of none ; professing the profoundest 
 secrets of opulence, yet generally living in a state of poverty; 
 astonishing every one by the vigor of his recollections, and the 
 evidence of his intercourse with the eminent characters and 
 events of every age, yet connected with none — without line- 
 age, possession, or pursuit on earth — a wanderer and un- 
 happy! 
 
 A number of histories have been written about him ; some 
 purely fictitious, others founded on ill-understood records. 
 Germany, the land of mysticism, has toiled the most in this 
 idle perversion of truth. Yet those narratives have been ia 
 general but a few pages, feebly founded on the fatal sentence 
 of his punishment for an indignity offered to the Author of 
 the Christian faith. 
 
 That exile lives ! that most afflicted of the people of affliction 
 yet walks this earth, bearing the sorrows of eighteen centuries 
 on his brow — withering in soul for the guilt of an hour of 
 madness. He has long borne the scoff of man in silence ; he 
 has heard his princely rank degraded to that of a menial, and 
 heard without a murmur ; he has heard his unhappy offense 
 charged to deliberate malice, when it was but the misfortune 
 of a zeal inflamed by the passions of his people ; and he has 
 bowed to the calumny as a portion of his punishment. But 
 the time for this forbearance is no more. He feels himself 
 at last wearing away; and feels, with a sensation like that 
 of returning to the common fates of mankind, a desire to 
 stand clear with his fellow men. In their presence he will 
 never move again; to their justice, or their mercy, he will 
 
 xzxi 
 
2lutbot'0 pcetace 
 
 never again appeal. The wound of his soul rests, never again 
 to be disclosed, until that day when all beings shall be sum- 
 moned and all secrets be known. 
 
 In his final retreat he has collected these memorials. He 
 has concealed nothing; he has dissembled nothing ; the picture 
 of his hopes and fears, his weaknesses and his sorrows, is 
 stamped here with sacred sincerity. 
 
 Other narratives may be more specious or eloquent, but this 
 narrative has the supreme merit of reality. It may be 
 doubted ; it may even be denied. But this he must endure. 
 He has been long trained to the severity of the world ! 
 
 The Authob. 
 
 xrxil 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 IWTKODUOTOET LETTER FKOM GENERAL LeWIS WaLI/ACE, . T 
 
 Ihtroduotion, ix 
 
 Adthob's Preface, 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. — Salathiel Doomed to Immortality, .... 3 
 
 II. — An Awakening and a Summons, 10 
 
 m. — Salathiel's Resolution in the Temple, . . . .15 
 
 IV. — Salathiel Journeys Far from Jerusalem, . . .22 
 
 V.^^Eleazar Learns of Salathiel's Benunciation, . . 28 
 
 VI. — Salathiel and His People, 35 
 
 VIL— The Loss of a Life 41 
 
 Vni. — Salathiel Confronts the Shade of Antioohus, . . 47 
 IX.— The Romans Driven from the Holy City, . . .56 
 
 X.— The Fall of Onias, 62 
 
 XI.— The Strength of Judea, 69 
 
 XIL — The Prince of Naphtali Confronts Desolation, , . 78 
 XIII. — The Wandering of a Mind Diseased, . . . .84 
 
 XIV.— The Fury of a Tempest, 92 
 
 XV.— The Appeal of Miriam, 101 
 
 XVL— The Heart of Salome, 112 
 
 XVn.— A Declaration of Love 121 
 
 XVni.— Salathiel Faces a Roman 132 
 
 XIX.— On Board a Trireme, . . .... 138 
 
 XX.— The Burning of Rome, 146 
 
 XXI.— The Death of a Martyr, 157 
 
 BOOK n 
 
 XXII.— The Tear of Jubilee, ....... 173 
 
 XXIII.— Preparing for an Attack, 181 
 
 XXIV. — The Departure of Constantius, 189 
 
 XXV.— Salathiel in Strange Company, 197 
 
 XXVI.— In the Lions' Lair, 205 
 
 XXVIL— The Escape of Salathiel the Magician, . . .216 
 
 XXVIII.— The Power of a Beggar, ...... 221 
 
 XXIX. — Prisoners in a Labyrinth, ...... 232 
 
 XXX.— The Revenge of a Victor, , c .... 242 
 
 zxzlii 
 
Z&ble ot Contents 
 
 CHAPTER ''*?? 
 
 XXXI.— The DifiSoulties of a Leader, ^ol 
 
 XXXII.— "Never Shalt Thou Enter Jerusalem," . . . .258 
 
 XXXIII.— Jubal's Warning, 265 
 
 XXXIV.— The Pursuit of an Enemy, 272 
 
 XXXV.— The Lapse of Years, 276 
 
 XXXVI.— Death in a Cavern, 284 
 
 XXXVIL— A Pirate Band, 291 
 
 XXXVin.— Salaihiel and the Pirate Captain, . . • .300 
 
 XXXIX.— A Sea Fight, 310 
 
 XL. — A Burning Trireme 317 
 
 XLI.— The Granddaughter of Ananus, 323 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 XLII.— Naomi's Story 333 
 
 XLIII. — Before Masada 339 
 
 XLIV. — Among Roman Soldiers 346 
 
 XLV.— The Reign of the Sword 363 
 
 XL VI.— A Cry of Wo, 358 
 
 XLVIL— The Struggle for Supremacy 362 
 
 XLVni.— The Sting of a Story, 372 
 
 XLIX.— Salathiel's Strange Quarters, 377 
 
 L.— After the Struggle 383 
 
 LI. — A Man of Mystery, 389 
 
 LIL— The Prophecy of Evil, 396 
 
 LIII.— A Fatal Sign, 401 
 
 LIV. — Concerning Septimius, 411 
 
 LV.— Salathiel a Prisoner, 417 
 
 LVI. — A Narrow Escape, 425 
 
 LVII. — Onias, the Enemy of Salathiel, 436 
 
 LVIIL— Eleazar the Convert, 445 
 
 LIX.— The Clemency of Titus, 455 
 
 LX.— The Treatment of a Prisoner, 466 
 
 LXI.— A Steward's Narrative, 474 
 
 LXII.— A Prisoner in the Tower, 487 
 
 LXIII.— A Minstrel's Power of Speech 496 
 
 LXIV. — The Destruction of Jerusalem, 512 
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 Annotations, 637 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth from the Present Jewish Point of View — Letters 
 
 from over Thirty Representative Jewish Scholars, . . .551 
 
 Other Testimony to Jesus, 670 
 
 The Second Coming of Christ— A Succinct History, by D. S. 
 
 Gregory, D.D., LL.D., 574 
 
 Reasons for the Belief that Christ may Come Within the Next 
 
 Twenty Years, by Arthur T. Plerson, D.D., . . . .682 
 
 zzziT 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "Tarry thon till I come 1 " Frontispiece 
 
 "All in the Temple was confusion," 20 
 
 "The archer dropped dead, with the arrow still on his bow," . . 64 
 
 •'Read the Scriptures. I have prayed for you. Read — '" . . 104 
 
 •"Let your guard come,' cried I," 136 
 
 " I heard the gnashing of his white fangs above me," . . . 168 
 
 "The lions, made more furious by wounds, sprang upon the power- 
 ful horses," 208 
 
 " I gave the word — fell upon the guard at the gate, and cast it open ! " 240 
 
 " 'Now for glory 1' they cried," 268 
 
 "The solitary voyager of the burning trireme," . . . .318 
 
 " I had rescued Constantius ! " - 356 
 
 "The Roman rushed at him with his drawn falchion," . . . 396 
 
 "'Esther Is gone!' was her answer," 424 
 
 "'Now, my beloved brothers, beloved in the Lord, go forth,' said 
 Eleazar," 452 
 
 "Titus rode at the head of his stately company, himself the most 
 stately of them all," 488 
 
 "Judea must fall," 508 
 
 "I heard the shouts of the conquerors, and the fall of the pillars of 
 the Temple," 632 
 
TARRY THOU TILL I COME 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Salathiet Doomed to Immortality 
 
 "Tabby thou till I come." ' * The words shot through Saiatwei 
 me — I felt them like an arrow in my heart — my brain -whirled iRemotec 
 — my eyes grew dim. The troops, the priests, the populace, 
 the world, passed away from before my senses like phantoms. 
 
 But my mind had a horrible clearness. As if the veil that 
 separates the visible and invisible worlds had been rent in 
 sunder, I saw shapes and signs for which mortal language 
 has no name. The whole expanse of the future spread under 
 my mental gaze. A preternatural light, a new power of 
 mind, seemed to have been poured into my being ; I saw at 
 once the full guilt of my crime — the fierce folly — the mad 
 ingratitude — the desperate profanation. I lived over again in 
 frightful distinctness every act and instant of the night of my 
 unspeakable sacrilege. I saw, as if written with a sunbeam, 
 the countless injuries that in the rage of bigotry I had accumu- 
 lated upon the victim ; the bitter mockeries that I had devised ; 
 the cruel tauntings that my lips had taught the rabble ; the 
 pitiless malignity that had forbidden them to discover a trace 
 of virtue where all virtue was. The blows of the scourge 
 still sounded in my ears. Every drop of the innocent blood 
 rose up in judgment against me. 
 
 Accursed be the night in which I fell before the tempter ! 
 Blotted out from time and eternity be the hour in which I 
 took part with the torturers ! Every fiber of my frame quiv- 
 ers, every drop of my blood curdles, as I still hear the echo 
 
 * Tbe superior numbera appearlnff tbrougliout the text reter to " Explanatory Notai " 
 In ttie first pages of the Appendix. 
 
^rcs ^bou ^ill ir Come 
 
 Saiathici'B of the anathema, that on the night of wo sprang first from 
 ^cfumpb my lips, " His blood be upon us, and upon our childeen ! " 
 
 I had headed the multitude ; where others shrank, I urged ; 
 where others pitied, I reviled ; I scoffed at the feeble malice 
 of the priesthood ; I scoffed at the tardy cruelty of the Eoman ; 
 I swept away by menace and by scorn the human reluctance 
 of the few who dreaded to dip their hands ia blood. Think- 
 ing to do God service, and substituting my passions for my 
 God, I threw firebrands on the hearts of a rash, jealous, and 
 bigoted people— I triumphed! 
 
 In a deed which ought to have covered earth with lamen- 
 tation, which was to make angels weep, which might have 
 shaken the universe into dust, I triumphed ! The decree was 
 passed ; but my frenzy was not so to be satiated. I loathed 
 the light while the victim lived. Under the charge of " trea- 
 son to Caesar," I demanded instant execution of the sentence. 
 — "Not a day of life must be given," I exclaimed, "not an 
 hour; — death, on the instant; death!" My clamor was 
 echoed by the roar of millions. 
 
 But in the moment of my exultation I was stricken. He 
 who had refused an hour of life to the victim was, in terrible 
 retribution, condemned to know the misery of life intermi- 
 nable. I heard through all the voices of Jerusalem — I should 
 have heard through all the thunders of heaven — the calm, low 
 voice, " Tarry thou till I come ! " 
 
 I felt my fate at once ! I sprang away through the shout- 
 ing hosts as if the avenging angel waved his sword above my 
 head. Wild songs, furious execrations, the uproar of myriads 
 stirred to the heights of passion, filled the air ; still, through 
 all, I heard the pursuing sentence, "Tarry thou till I come," 
 and felt it to be the sentence of incurable agony ! I was never 
 to know the shelter of the grave ! 
 
 Immortality on Earth! — The compulsion of perpetual exist- 
 ence in a world made for change ; to feel thousands of years 
 bowing down my wretched head; alienated from all the hopes, 
 enjoyments, and pursuits of man, to bear the heaviness of that 
 existence which palls even with all the stimulants of the most 
 vivid career of man ; life passionless, exhausted, melancholy, 
 
Salatbiel Boomed to HmmottaUts 
 
 old. I was to be a wild beast ; and a wild beast condemned » OeaetUee 
 to pace the same eternal cage ! A criminal bound to the floor '^"" 
 of his dungeon forever ! I would rather have been blown about 
 on the storms of every region of the universe. 
 
 Immortality on Earth! — I was still in the vigor of life; but 
 must it be always so? Must not pain, feebleness, the loss of 
 mind, the sad decay of all the resources of the human being, 
 be the natural result of time? Might I not sink into the per- 
 petual sick-bed, hopeless decrepitude, pain without cure or 
 relaxation, the extremities of famine, of disease, of madness? 
 — yet this was to be borne for ages of ages ! 
 
 Immortality on Earth! — Separation from all that cheers and 
 ennobles life. I was to survive my country ; to see the soil 
 dear to my heart violated by the feet of barbarians yet un- 
 born, her sacred monuments, her trophies, her tombs, a scoff 
 and a spoil. Without a resting-spot for the soles of my feet, 
 I was to witness the slave, the man of blood, the savage of 
 the desert, the furious infidel, rioting in my inheritance, dig- 
 ging up the bones of my fathers, trampling on the holy ruins 
 of Jerusalem ! 
 
 Immortality on Earth! — I was to feel the still keener mis- 
 ery of surviving all whom I loved; wife, child, friend, even 
 to the last being with whom my heart could imagine a human 
 bond ; all that bore a drop of my blood in their veins were 
 to perish in my sight, and I was to stand on the verge of the 
 perpetual grave, without the power to sink into its refuge. 
 If new affections could ever wind their way into my frozen 
 bosom, it must be only to fill it with new sorrows ; for those 
 I loved must still be torn from me.— In the world I must re- 
 main, and remain alone ! 
 
 Immortality on Earth!— The grave that closes on the sin- 
 ner, closes on his sin. His weight of offense is fixed. No 
 new guilt can gather on him there. But I was to know no 
 limit to the weight that was already crushing me. The guilt 
 of life upon life, the surges of an unfathomable ocean of crime, 
 were to roU in eternal progress over my head. If the judg- 
 ment of the great day was terrible to him who had passed but 
 through the common measure of existence, what must be its 
 
 5 
 
tfatts Cbou zrui H Come 
 
 ■be basset terrors to the -wretcli who was to appear loaded with the ac- 
 Setiuiatem cumulated guilt of a thousand lives ! 
 
 Overwhelmed with despair, I rushed through Jerusalem, 
 with scarcely a consciousness of whither I was going. It was 
 the time of the Passover, when the city was crowded with the 
 multitude come to the great festival of the year. I felt an 
 instinctive horror of the human countenance, and shunned 
 every avenue by which the tribes came in. I at last found 
 myself at the Gate of Zion, that leads southward into the open 
 country. I had then no eyes for that wondrous portal which 
 had exhausted the skill of the most famous Ionian sculptors, 
 the master-work of Herod the Great. But I vainly tried to 
 force my way through the crowds that lingered on their march 
 to gaze upon its matchless beauty ; portal alone worthy of the 
 wonders to which it led, like the glory of an evening cloud 
 opening to lead the eye upward to the stars. 
 
 On those days the Eoman guard was withdrawn from the 
 battlements, which I ascended to seek another escape ; but the 
 concourse, gathered there to look upon the entrance of the 
 tribes, fixed me to the spot. Of all the strange and magnifi- 
 cent sights of earth, this entrance was the most fitted to swell 
 the national pride of country and religion. The dispersion, 
 ordained by Heaven for judgment on the crimes of our idola- 
 trous kings, had, through that wonder-working power by 
 which good is brought out of evil, planted our law in the re- 
 motest extremities of the world. Among its proselytes were 
 the mighty of all regions, the military leaders, the sages, the 
 kings ; all, at least once in their lives, coming to pay homage 
 to the great central city of the faith ; and all coming with the 
 pomp and attendance of their rank. The procession amounted 
 to a number which threw after-times into the shade. Three 
 millions of people have been counted at the Passover. 
 
 The diversities of the multitude were not less striking. 
 Every race of mankind, in its most marked peculiarities, there 
 passed beneath the eye. There came the long train of swarthy 
 slaves and menials round the chariot of the Indian prince, 
 clothed in the silks and jewels of regions beyond the Ganges 
 Upon them pressed the troop of African lion-hunters, half 
 
 6 
 
SaUtbfel Boomed to f mmortalitc 
 
 naked, but with their black limbs wreathed -vrith pearl and Hub comet 
 fragments of unwrought gold. Behind them, on camels, "SSanitiaiit 
 moved patriarchal groups, the Arab sheik, a venerable figure 
 with his white locks flowing from beneath his turban, leading 
 his sons, like our father Abraham, from the wilderness to the 
 Mount of Vision. Then rolled on the glittering chariot of 
 the Assyrian chieftain, a regal show of purple and gems, con- 
 voyed by horsemen covered with steel. The Scythian Jews, 
 wrapped in the furs of wolf and bear, iron men of the 
 North; the noble Greek, the perfection of the human form, 
 with his countenance beaming the genins and beauty of his 
 country ; the broad and yellow features of the Chinese rab- 
 bins ; the fair skins and gigantic forms of the German tribes ; 
 strange clusters of men unknown to the limits of Europe or 
 Asia, with their black locks, complexions of the color of gold, 
 and slight yet sinewy limbs, marked with figures of suns and 
 stars struck into the flesh ; all marched crowd on crowd ; and 
 in strong contrast with them, the Italian on the charger or in 
 the chariot, urging the living stream to the right and left, 
 with the haughtiness of the acknowledged master of mankind. 
 The representative world was before me. But all those dis- 
 tinctive marks of country and condition, though palpably in- 
 eradicable by human means, were overpowered and mingled 
 by the one grand impression of the place and the time In 
 their presence was the City of Holiness; the Hill of Zion 
 lifted up its palaces ; above them ascended, like another city 
 in a higher region of the air, that Temple to whose majesty 
 the world could show no equal, to which the eyes of the be- 
 liever were turned from the uttermost parts of the earth, in 
 whose courts Solomon, the king of earthly kings for wisdom, 
 had called down the blessing of the Most High, and it had 
 descended on the altar in fire ; in whose sanctuary the King 
 whom heaven and the heaven of heavens can not contain was 
 to make His future throne, and give glory to His people 
 
 O Jerusalem, Jerusalem! when I think of what I saw thee 
 then, and of what I have since seen thee— the spoiled, the 
 desolate, the utterly put to shame; when I have seen the 
 Roman plow driven through the soil on which stood the Holy 
 
Z&vfs tlbon tlill IT Come 
 
 Salatblel 
 
 bemoans 
 
 Jerusalem's 
 
 Sleseccation 
 
 of Holies; the Saracen destroying even its ruins; the last, 
 ■worst devastator, the barbarian of the Tatar desert, sitting 
 in grim, scorn upon the ramparts of the city of David ; viola- 
 ting the tombs of the prophet and the king ; turning up for 
 plunder the soil, every blade of whose grass, every atom of 
 •whose dust, -was sacred to the broken heart of Israel ; tram- 
 pling with savage cruelty my countrymen that lingered among 
 its walls only that they might seek a grave in the ashes of the 
 mighty, — I have felt my spirit maddened within me. I have 
 made impious wishes; I have longed for the lightning to blast 
 the tyrant. I still start from my bed when I hear the whirl- 
 wind, and send forth fierce prayers that its rage may be poured 
 on the tents of the oppressor. I unconsciously tear away my 
 white locks, and scatter them in bitterness of soul toward the 
 East. In the wildness of the moment I have imagined every 
 cloud that sailed along the night a minister of the descending 
 vengeance. I have seen it a throne of terrible shapes flying 
 on the wings of the wind, majestic spirits and kings of wrath 
 hurrying through the heavens to pour down sulfurous hail 
 and fire, as upon the cities of the Dead Sea. I have cried out 
 with our prophet, as the vision swept along, " Who is he that 
 Cometh from Edom? with dyed garments from Bozra? he that 
 is glorious in his apparel, traveling in the greatness of his 
 strength ! "Wherefore art thou red in thine apparel, and thy 
 garments like him that treadeth the winepress? " and I have 
 thought that I heard the answer : " I, that speak in righteous- 
 ness, mighty to save ! I will tread them in mine anger, and 
 trample them in my fury, and their blood shall be sprinkled 
 upon my garments, and I will stain all my raiment; for the 
 day of vengeance is in mine heart, and the year of my re- 
 deemed is come ! " 
 
 Then, when the impulse passed away, my eyes have turned 
 into fountains of tears, and I have wept until morning came, 
 and the sounds of the world called back its recollections ; and 
 for the sacred hills and valleys that I had imagined in the 
 darkness I saw only the roofs of some melancholy city, in 
 which I was a forlorn fugitive -, or a wilderness, with but the 
 burning sands and the robber before me; or found myself 
 
Salatbiel Doomed to 'ffmmoctaliti^ 
 
 tossing on tlie oceau, not more fruitless than my heart, nor sesons tbe 
 
 more restless thaa my life, nor more unfathomable than my 
 wo. Yet to the last will I hope and love. Jerusalem, 
 Jerusalem ! even in my mirth, if I forget thee ! 
 
 But those were the thoughts of after-times. On that mem- 
 orable and dreadful day I had no perception but of some 
 undefinable fate which was to banish me from mankind. I 
 at length forced my way through the pressure at the gate, 
 turned to none of the kinsmen who called to me as I passed 
 their chariots and horses, overthrew with desperate and sud- 
 den strength all who impeded my progress, and scarcely felt 
 the ground till I had left the city behind, and had climbed, 
 through rocks and ruins, the mountain that rose drearily be- 
 fore ma, like a barrier shutting out the living world. 
 
 Cit^'8 Bate 
 
CHAPTER n 
 
 <An Akfakeninff and a Sammons 
 
 SaiatMet'8 Teeeok had exhausted me; and throwing myself on ths 
 ®"^'*"« ground, under the shade of the pahn-trees that crowned the 
 summit of the hill, I fell into an almost instant slumber. 
 But it was unrefreshing and disturbed. The events of the 
 day again came before me, strangely mingled with those of 
 my past life, and with others of which I could form no wa- 
 king remembrance. I saw myself sometimes debased below 
 man, like the great Assyrian king, driven out to feed upon 
 the herb of the forest, and wandering for years exposed to the 
 scorching sun by day and the dews that sank chilling upon 
 my naked frame by night ; I then seemed filled with super- 
 natural power, and rose on wings till earth was diminished 
 beneath me, and I felt myself fearfully alone. Still, there 
 was one predominant sensation : that all this was for punish- 
 ment, and that it was to be perpetual. At length, in one of 
 my imaginary flights, I found myself whirled on the wind, 
 like a swimmer down a cataract, in helpless terror into the 
 bosom of a thunder-cloud. I felt the weight of the rolling 
 vapors round me ; I saw the blaze ; I was stunned by a roar 
 that shook the firmament. 
 
 My eyes suddenly opened, yet my dream appeared only to 
 be realized by my waking. Thick clouds of heavy and heated 
 vapor were rapidly rolling up from the precipices below ; and 
 at intervals a sound that I could not distinguish from distant 
 thunder burst on the wind. But the sun was bright, and the 
 horizon was the dazzling blue of the eastern heaven. As my 
 senses slowly returned, for I felt like a man overpowered with 
 wine, I was enabled to discover where I was. The discovery 
 itself was terror. I had in my distraction fled to the moun- 
 tain on which no Jew ever looked without shame and sorrow 
 
 -.0 
 
Bn awaikenttiB an^ a Summons 
 
 for the crimes of the greatest king into whose nostrils the ®ti tbe iisount 
 Almighty ever poured the spirit of life, but which a Jewish "* <^°""«'"«" 
 priest, as I was, could not touch without being guilty of de- 
 filement. I sat on the Mount of Corruption," so-called from 
 its having once witnessed the idolatries of our mighty Solo- 
 mon, when, in his old age, he gave way to the persuasions of 
 his heathen wives — that irreparable crime for which the king- 
 dom was rent, and the strength of Israel scattered. I saw in 
 the hollows of the hill the spaces, still bearing the marks of 
 burning, and barren forever, on which the temples of Moloch, 
 Chemosh, and Ashtaroth had stood in sight of the House of 
 the living God. The very palm-trees under which I had 
 snatched that wild and bitter sleep were the remnant of the 
 groves in which the foul rites of the goddesses of Phenicia 
 and Assyria once filled the air with midnight abomination, 
 and horrid yells of human sacrifice, almost made more fearful 
 by the roar of barbarian revel, the wild dissonance of timbrel 
 and horn, the bacchanalian chorus of the priesthood and peo- 
 ple of impurity. 
 
 The vapors that rose hot and sickly before me were the 
 smokes from the fires kindled in the valley of Hinnom ; where 
 the refuse of the animals slaughtered for the use of the city, 
 and the other pollutions and remnants of things abominable to 
 the Jew, were daily burned. The sullen and perpetual fires, 
 the deadly fumes, and the aspects of the beings, chiefly pub- 
 lic cruninals, who were employed in this hideous task, gave 
 the idea of the place of final evil. Our prophets, in their 
 threats against the national betrayers, against the proud and 
 the self-willed, the polluted with idols, and the polluted with 
 that still darker and more incurable idolatry, the worship of 
 the world, pointed to the valley of Hinnom ! The Pharisee, 
 when he denounced the unbelief and luxury of the lordly Sad- 
 ducee, pointed to the valley of Hinnom ! All — the Pharisee, 
 the Essene, the Sadducee, in the haughty spirit that forgot 
 the fallen state of Jerusalem, and the crimes that had lowered 
 her; the hypocrite, the bigot, and the skeptic, alike mad with 
 hopeless revenge, when they saw the Eoman cohorts triumph- 
 ing with their idolatrous ensigns through the paths once trod 
 
 11 
 
trarrg c;bou ttftl IT Come 
 
 H Call by the holy, or were driven aside by the torrent of cavalry, 
 •" ^""^ and the gilded chariot on which sat some insolent proconsul 
 fresh from Italy, — pointed to the valley of Hinnom ! Hour 
 often, as the days of Jerusalem hurried toward their end^ and 
 by some fatality the violences of the Eoman governors be- 
 came more frequent and intolerable, have I seen the groups of 
 my countrymen, hunted into some byway of the city by the 
 hoofs of the Eoman horse, consuming with that inward wrath 
 which was soon to flame out in such horrors, flinging up their 
 wild hands, as if to upbraid the tardy heavens, gnashing their 
 teeth, and with the strong contortions of the Oriental counte- 
 nance, and lip scarcely audible from the force of its own con- 
 vulsion, muttering conspiracy. Or, in despair of shaking ofE 
 that chain which had bound the whole earth, how often have 
 I seen them appealing to the endless future, and shrouding 
 their heads in their cloaks, like sorcerers summoning up de- 
 mons, each with his quivering hand stretched out toward the 
 accursed vaUey, and every tongue groaning " Hinnom ! " 
 
 While I lay upon the summit of the mountain, in a state 
 which gave me the deepest impression of the parting of soul 
 and body, I was startled by the sound of a trumpet. It was 
 from the Temple, which, as the fires below sank with the 
 growing heat of the day, was now visible to me. The trum- 
 pet was the signal of the third hour, when the first daily sac- 
 rifice was to be offered. It was the week of the class of 
 Abiah, of which I was, and this day's service fell to me. 
 Though I would have given all that I possessed on earth to 
 be allowed to rest upon that spot, polluted as it was, and 
 there molder away into the dust and ashes that I had made 
 my bed, I dared not shrink from that most solemn duty of 
 the priesthood. 
 
 I rose, but it was not untU after many efforts that I was 
 able to stand. I struggled along the summit of the ridge, 
 holding by the stems of the palm-trees. The second trumpet 
 sounded loudly, and was reechoed by the cliffs. I had now 
 no time for delay, and was about to spring downward toward 
 a path which wound round the head of the valley and beyond 
 the fires, when my ears were again arrested by the peal that 
 
 12 
 
xin »waRening ano a i^ummons 
 
 Lad disturbed me in my sleep, and my glaace, •whicli com- Sabtbiel 
 manded tlie -wliole circuit of the lulls round Jerusalem, invol- tite"Som« 
 untarily looked for the thunder-cloud. The sky was without 
 a stain; but the eminences toward the west, on whose lovely 
 slopes of vineyard, rose, and orange grove my eye had so often 
 reposed as on a vast Tyrian carpet tissued with purple and 
 gold, were hung with gloom ; a huge and sullen cloud seemed 
 to be gathering over the heights, and flashes and gleams of 
 malignant luster burst from its bosom. The cloud deepened, 
 and the distant murmur grew louder and more continued 
 
 I hurried to the city gate. To my astonishment, I found 
 the road, that I had left so choked up with the multitude, 
 almost empty. The camels stood tethered in long trains under 
 the trees, with scarcely an owner. The tents were deserted 
 except by children and the few old persons necessary for 
 their care. The mules and horses grazed through the fields 
 without a keeper. I saw tents full of the animals and other 
 offerings that the tribes brought up to the great feast, almost 
 at the mercy of any hand that would take them away. 
 Where could the myriads have disappeared which had cov- 
 ered the land a few hours before to the horizon? 
 
 The city was still more a subject of astonishment. A panic 
 might have driven away the concourse of strangers, at a time 
 when the violences of the Eoman sword had given every Jew 
 but too frequent cause for the most sensitive alarm. But all 
 within the gate was equally deserted. The streets were utter- 
 ly stripped of the regular inhabitants. The Eoman sentinels 
 were almost the only beings whom I could discover in my pas- 
 sage of the long avenue, from the foot of the upper city to the 
 Mount of the Temple. All this was favorable to my extreme 
 anxiety to escape every eye of my countrymen; yet I can not 
 teU with what a throbbing of heart, and variety of feverish 
 emotion, I at length reached the threshold of my dwelling. 
 Though young, I was a husband and father. What might not 
 have happened since the sunset of the evening before? for my 
 evil doings — for which may He, with whom mercy lies at the 
 right hand and judgment at the left, have mercy on me — had 
 fatally occupied the night. I listened at the door, with my 
 
 13 
 
Znn^ Zbou ZUl f Come 
 
 SabtMel 
 
 feears 
 famillac 
 SounM 
 
 heart upon my lips. I dared not open it. My suspense was 
 at length relieved by my wife's voice; she was weeping. I 
 fell on my knees, and thanked Heaven that she was alive. 
 
 But my infant 1 I thought of the sword that smote the 
 first-born in the land of bondage, and felt that Judah, guilty 
 as Egypt, might well dread its punishment. Was it for my 
 first-born that the sobs of its angel mother had arisen in her 
 loneliness? Another pause of bitter suspense — and I heard 
 the laugh of my babe as it awoke in her arms. The first 
 human sensation that I had felt for so many hours was 
 almost overpowering; and without regarding the squalidness 
 of my dress, and the look of famine and fatigue that must 
 have betrayed where I had been, I should have rushed into 
 the chamber. But at that moment the third trumpet sounded. 
 I had now no time for the things of this world. I plunged 
 into the bath, cleansed myself from the pollution of the moun- 
 tain, hastily girt on me the sacerdotal tunic and girdle ; and 
 with the sacred fillet on my burning brow, and the censer in 
 my shaking hand, passed through the cloisters and took my 
 place before the altar. 
 
 14 
 
CHAPTER m 
 
 SalsthxeVs Resolution in the Temple 
 
 Of all the labors of human wealth and power devoted to jBefore tbe 
 worship, the Temple within whose courts I then stood was the """ ° 
 
 most mighty. In the years of my unhappy wanderings, far 
 from the graves of my kindred, I have seen all the most fa- 
 mous shrines of the great kingdoms of idolatry. Constrained 
 by cruel circumstance, and the still sterner cruelty of man, I 
 have stood before the altar of the Ephesian Diana, the master- 
 piece of Ionian splendor; I have strayed through the woods 
 of Delphi, and been made a reluctant witness of the superb 
 mysteries of that chief of the oracles of imposture. Dragged 
 in chains, I have been forced to join the procession round the 
 Minerva of the Acropolis, and almost forgot my chains in 
 wonder at that monument of a genius which ought to have 
 been consecrated only to the true God, by whom it was given. 
 The temple of the Capitoline Jove, the Sancta Sophia of the 
 Rome of Constantine, the still more stupendous fabric in 
 which the third Eome still bows before the fisherman of Gali- 
 lee — all have been known to my step, that knows all things 
 but rest ; but all were dreams and shadows to the grandeur, 
 the dazzling beauty, the almost unearthly glory, of that Tem- 
 ple which once covered the " Mount of Vision " of the City of 
 Jehovah. 
 
 At the distance of almost two thousand years, I have its 
 image on my mind's eye with living and painful fulness. I 
 see the court of the Gentiles circling the whole ; a fortress of 
 the purest marble, with its wall rising six hundred feet from 
 the valley ; its kingly entrance, worthy of the fame of Solo- 
 mon; its innumerable and stately buildings for the priests 
 and officers of the Temple, and above them, glittering like a 
 succession of diadems, those alabaster porticoes and coloa* 
 
 15 
 
tlarts ttbott Zill f dome 
 
 Hn nades in which the chiefs and sages of Jerusalem sat teaching 
 intetiBpWon ^^^^ people, or walked, breathing the pure air, and gazing on 
 the grandeur of a landscape which swept the whole amphi- 
 theater of the mountains. I see, rising above this stupendous 
 boundary, the court of the Jewish women separated by its 
 porphyry pillars and richly sculptured wall ; above this, the 
 separated court of the men; still higher, the court of the 
 priests ; and highest, the crowning splendor of all, the central 
 TEMPLE,' the place of the Sanctuary and of the Holy of 
 Holies, covered with plates of gold, its roof planted with 
 lofty spear-heads of gvsld, the most precious marbles and 
 metals everywhere Hashing back the day, till Mount Moriah 
 stood forth to the eye of the stranger approaching Jerusalem 
 what it had been so often described by its bards and people, 
 " a mountain of snow studded with jewels." 
 
 The grandeur of the worship was worthy of this glory of 
 architecture. Tour-and-twenty thousand Levites ministered 
 by turns — a thousand at a time. Four thousand more per- 
 formed the lower offices. Four thousand singers and min- 
 strels, with the harp, the trumpet, and all the richest instru- 
 ments of a land whose native genius was music, and whose 
 climate and landscape led men instinctively to delight in the 
 charm of sound, chanted the inspired songs of our warrior 
 king, and filled up the pauses of prayer with harmonies that 
 transported the spirit beyond the cares and passions of a 
 troubled world. 
 
 I was standing before the altar of burnt-offerings, with the 
 Levite at my side holding the lamb ; the cup was in my hand, 
 and I was about to pour the wine on the victim, when I was 
 startled by the sound of hurried feet. In another moment the 
 gate of the court was abruptly thrown back, and a figure rushed 
 in ; it was the High Priest,' but not in the robes of ceremony 
 which it was customary for him. to wear in the seasons of the 
 greater festivals. He was covered with the common vesture 
 of the priesthood, and was evidently anxious to use it for total 
 concealment. His face was buried in the folds of his cloak, 
 and he walked with blind precipitation toward the sanctuary. 
 But he had scarcely reached it when a new feeling stopped 
 
 10 
 
Salatbiel's IResoIution in tbe tTempIe 
 
 him, and he turned to the altar, where I was standing in ube Ufab 
 mute surprise. The cloak fell from his visage; it was pale *uewot 
 as death; the habitual sternness of feature which rendered 
 him a terror to the people had collapsed into feebleness ; and 
 while he gazed on the flame, I thought I saw the glistening 
 of a tear on a cheek that had never exhibited human emotion 
 before. But no time was left for question, even if reverence 
 had not restrained me. He suddenly grasped the head of the 
 lamb, as was customary for those who offered up an expiation 
 for their own sins ; his lip, ashy white, quivered with broken 
 prayer ; then, snatching the knife from the Levite, he plunged 
 it into the animal's throat, and with his hands covered with 
 blood, and with a groan that sounded despair, again rushed 
 distractedly to the porch of the Holy House, flung aside in 
 fierce irreverence the veil of the sanctuary, and darted in. 
 
 There was a subterranean passage from the interior of the 
 sanctuary to the High Priest's cloister, through which I con- 
 ceived that he had gone. But, on passing near the porch, at 
 the close of the sacrifice, I heard a cry of agony from within 
 that penetrated my soul. 
 
 I had never loved the head of our priesthood. He was a 
 haughty and hard-hearted man ; insolent in his of&ce, which 
 he had obtained by no unsuspicious means, and a ready tool 
 alike of the popular caprice and of the tyranny of our foreign 
 masters. But he was a man ; was a man of my own order ; 
 and was it for one like me to triumph over even the most 
 abject criminal of earth? I ascended the steps of the porch, 
 and, with a sinking heart and trembling hand, entered the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 But — what I saw there I have no power to tell ! To this 
 moment the recollection overwhelms my senses. Words 
 were not made to utter it. The ear of man was not made to 
 hear it. Before me moved things mightier than of mortal 
 vision, thronging shapes of terror, mysterious grandeurs, 
 essential power, embodied prophecy! The Veil was rent in 
 twain! How could man behold and live! When I lifted my 
 face from the ground again, I saw but the High Priest. He 
 was kneeling, with his hands clasped upon his eyes ; his lips 
 
 2 17 
 
Zatvs Q^bou trill f Come 
 
 "Hn attack bs strained wide, as if laboring to utter a voice; and his whole 
 tbe iRoiiMM fyaTpfi rigid and cold as a corpse. I vainly spoke, and at- 
 tempted to rouse him; terror, or more than terror, had be- 
 numbed his powers ; and, unwilling to suffer him to be seen 
 in this extremity, I bore him in my arms to the subterranean. 
 
 But a tumult, of which I could scarcely conjecture the 
 cause, checked me. The trampling of multitudes, and cries 
 of fury and fear, echoed round the Temple; and in the sudden 
 apprehension, the first and most fearful to the priest of Judah, 
 that the Eomans were about to commence their often-threat- 
 ened plunder, I laid down my unhappy burden beside the 
 door of the passage and returned to defend, or die with, our 
 perishing glory. The sanctuary in which I stood was wholly 
 lighted by the lamps round its walls. But when, at length, 
 unable to suppress my alarm at the growing uproar, I went 
 to the porch, I left comparative day behind me; a gloom 
 deeper than that of tempest and sicklier than that of smoke 
 overspread the sky. The sun, which I had seen like a fiery 
 buckler hanging over the city, was utterly gone. Even while 
 I looked the darkness deepened, and the blackness of night, 
 of night without a star, fell far and fearful upon the horizon. 
 
 It has been my fate, and an intense part of my punishment, 
 always to conceive that the calamities of nature and nations 
 were connected with my crime. ' I have tried to reason away 
 this impression, but it has clung to me like an iron chain ; 
 nothing could tear it away that left the life ; I have felt it 
 hanging over my brain with the weight of a thunder-cloud. 
 As I glanced into the gloom, the thought smote me that it 
 was I who had brought this Egyptian plague, this horrid 
 privation of the first element of life, upon my country, per- 
 haps upon the world, perhaps never to be relieved; for it 
 came condensing, depth on depth, till it seemed to have ex- 
 cluded all possibility of the existence of light ; it was, like 
 that of our old oppressors, darkness that might be felt, the 
 darkness of a universal grave. 
 
 I formed my fierce determination at once, and resolved to 
 fly from my priesthood, from my kindred, from my country; 
 to linger out my days — my bitter, banished days — in some 
 
 18 
 
Salatbiel's tResolution in tbe G:emple 
 
 wilderness, -wliere my presence would not be a curse, where fn tbe »tt«t 
 
 but the lion and the tiger should be my fellow dwellers, where ' • '" 
 
 the sands could not be made the more barren for my fatal 
 
 tread, nor the fountains more bitter for my desperate and 
 
 eternal tears. The singular presence of mind found in some 
 
 men in the midst of universal perturbation — one of the most 
 
 effective qualities of our nature, and attributed to the highest 
 
 vigor of heart and understanding — is not always deserving of 
 
 such proud parentage. It is sometimes the child of mere 
 
 brute ignorance of danger, sometimes of habitual ferocity ; in 
 
 my instance it was that of madness — the fierce energy that 
 
 leads the maniac safe over roofs and battlements. All in the 
 
 Temple was confusion. The priests lay flung at the feet of 
 
 the altar; or, clinging together in groups of helplessness and 
 
 dismay, waited speechless for the ruin that was to visit them 
 
 in this unnatural night. I walked through all, without a fear 
 
 or a hope under heaven. 
 
 Through the solid gloom, and among heaps of men and 
 sacred things cast under my feet, like the spoil of some 
 stormed camp, I made my way to my dwelling, direct and 
 unimpeded, as if I walked in the light of day. I found my 
 wife in deeper terror at my long absence than even at the 
 darkness. She sprang forward at my voice, and, falling on 
 my neck, shed the tears of joy and love. But few words 
 passed between us, for but few were necessary, to bid her 
 with her babe to follow me. She would have followed me to 
 the ends of the earth. 
 
 Miriam, Miriam ! how often have I thought of thee, in 
 my long pilgrimage ! How often, like that of a spirit descended 
 to minister consolation to the wanderer, have I seen, in my 
 midnight watching, thy countenance of more than woman's 
 beauty! To me thou hast never died. Thy more than man's 
 loftiness of soul ; thy generous fidelity of love to a wayward 
 and tmhappy heart; thy patient treading with me along the 
 path that I had sowed with the thorn and thistle for thy feet, 
 but which should have been covered with the wealth of 
 princes, to be worthy of thy loveliness and thy virtue— all rise 
 in memory, and condemnation, before the chief of sinners. 
 
 19 
 
ttarcB ttbou dill IF Come 
 
 Saiatiiiei am Age after age have I traveled to thy lonely grave ; age after 
 *'"^'" age have I -wept and prayed upon the dust that was once per- 
 fection. In all the hardness forced upon me by a stern world ; 
 in all the hatred of mankiad that the insolence of the barba- 
 rian and the persecutor has bound round my bosom like a mail 
 of iron, I have preserved one source of feeling sacred — a soli- 
 tary fount to feed the little vegetation of a withered heart : the 
 love of thee; perhaps to be a sign of that regenerate time 
 when the curse shall be withdrawn ; perhaps to be in mercy 
 the source from which that more than desert, thy husband's 
 soul, shall be refreshed, and the barrenness flourish with the 
 flowers of the paradise of God ! 
 
 Throwiag off my robe of priesthood, as I then thought, 
 forever, I went forth, followed by my heroic wife and bear- 
 ing my child in my arms. I had left behind me sumptu- 
 ous things, wealth transmitted from a long line of illus- 
 trious ancestry. I cared not for them. Wealth a thousand 
 times more precious was withia my embrace. Yet, when 
 I touched the threshold, the last sensation of divorce from 
 all that I had been came over my mind. My wife felt the 
 trembling of my frame, and, with a gentle firmness which 
 in the hour of trouble often exalts the fortitude of woman 
 above the headlong and inflamed courage of the warrior, she 
 bade me be of good cheer. I felt her lips on my hand at the 
 moment — the touch gave new energy to my whole being — and 
 I bounded forward into the ocean of darkness. 
 
 Without impediment or error, I made my way over and 
 among the crowds that strewed the court of the Gentiles. I 
 heard many a prayer and many a groan ; but I had now no 
 more to do with man, and forced my way steadily to the great 
 portal. Thus far, if I had been stricken with utter blindness, 
 I could not have been less guided by the eye. But, on pass- 
 ing into the streets of the lower city, a scattered torch, from 
 time to tim3, struggling through the darkness, like the lamp 
 in a sepulcher, gave me glimpses of the scene. The broad 
 avenue was encumbered with the living, in the semblance of 
 the dead. All were prostrated or were in those attitudes into 
 which men are thrown by terror beyond the strength or spirit 
 
 20 
 
Ci'iiyrif,W]t, 19ia, by Funk & \\'a-Ti:iUg Compauv, N. Y. and London. 
 
 All in the Temple was confusion. 
 
 See page 19. 
 
SaIatbtel'0 iResoIution in tbe tlemp!' 
 
 of man to resist. The cloud that, from my melancholy bed a Scene 
 
 above the valley of Hinnom, I had seen rolling up the hills, 
 ■was this multitude. A spectacle had drawn them all by a 
 cruel, a frantic, curiosity out of Jerusalem, and left it the 
 solitude that had surprised me. Preternatural eclipse and 
 
 ■ horror fell on them, and their thousands madly rushed back 
 to perish, if perish they must, within the walls of the City of 
 
 . Holiness. Still the multitude came pouring in; their distant 
 trampling had the sound of a cataract, and their outcries of 
 pain, and rage, and terror were like what I have since heard, 
 but more feebly, sent up from the field of battle. 
 
 I struggled on, avoiding the living torrent, and slowly 
 treading my way wherever I heard the voices least numer- 
 ous ; but my task was one of extreme toil, and but for those 
 more than the treasures of the earth to me, whose lives 
 depended on my efforts, I should willingly have lain down 
 and suffered the multitude to trample me into the grave. 
 How long I thus struggled I know not. But a yell of pecul- 
 iar and universal terror that burst round me made me turn 
 my reluctant eyes toward Jerusalem. The cause of this new 
 alarm was seen at once. 
 
 A large sphere of fire fiercely shot through the heavens, 
 lighting its track down the murky air, and casting a disas- 
 trous and pallid illumination on the myriads of gazers below. 
 It stopped above the city and exploded in thunder, flashing 
 over the whole horizon, but covering the Temple with a blaze 
 which gave it the aspect of a huge mass of metal glowing in 
 the furnace. Every outline of the architecture, every pillar, 
 every pinnacle, was seen with a livid and terrible distinctness. 
 Again, all vanished. I heard the hollow roar of an earth- 
 quake ; the ground rose and heaved under our feet. I heard 
 the crash of buildings, the fall of fragments of the hills, and, 
 louder than both, the groan of the multitude. I caught my 
 wife and child closer to my bosom. In the next moment I 
 felt the ground give way beneath me, a sulfurous vapor took 
 away my breath, and I was swept intc the air in a whirlwind 
 of dust and ashes ! 
 
 21 
 
 ot E)i888tec 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Sataihiet Journeys Far from Jerusatem 
 
 saiatbiei When I recovered my senses, all was so mucli changed 
 comciousncsg round me that I could scarcely be persuaded that either the 
 past or the present was not a dream. I had no consciousness 
 of any interval between them, more than that of having closed 
 m.y eyes at one instant, to open them at the next. Yet the 
 curtains of a tent waved round me, in a breeze fragrant with 
 the breath of roses and balsam-trees. Beyond the gardens 
 and meadows, from which those odors sprang, a river shone, 
 like a path of lapis lazuli, in the calm effulgence of the west- 
 em sun. Tents were pitched, from which I heard the sounds 
 of pastoral instruments; camels were drinking and grazing 
 along the riverside; and turbaned men and maidens were 
 ranging over the fields, or sitting on the banks to enjoy the 
 cool of the delicious evening. 
 
 While I tried to collect my senses and discover whether 
 this was more than one of those sports of a wayward fancy 
 which tantalize the bed of the sick mind, I heard a low hymn, 
 and listened to the sounds with breathless anxiety. The voice 
 I knew at once — it was Miriam's. But in the disorder of my 
 brain, and the strange circumstances which had filled the lat- 
 ter days, in that total feebleness too in which I could not move 
 a limb or utter a word, a persuasion seized me that I was 
 already beyond the final boundary of mortals. All before me 
 was like that paradise from which the crime of our great fore- 
 father had driven man into banishment. I remembered the 
 convulsion of the earth in which I had sunk, and asked my- 
 self, Could man be wrapped in flame and the whirlwind that 
 tore up mountains like the roots of flowers, and yet live? 
 
 In this perplexity I closed my eyes to collect my thoughts, 
 and probably exhibited some strong emotion of countenance, 
 
 23 
 
Salatbiel Sourness jFac ttom Setusalem 
 
 for I was roused by a cry : " He lives ! He lives ! " I looked Bn» xeanw 
 
 up — Miriam stood before me, clasping her lovely hands -with ° )6»capc"'* 
 
 the wildness of joy unspeakable, and shedding tears that, 
 
 large and lustrous, fell down her glowing cheeks like dew 
 
 upon the pomegranate. She threw herself upon my pillow, 
 
 kissed my forehead with lips that breathed new life into me ; 
 
 then, pressing my chill hand between hers, knelt down and 
 
 with a look worthy of that heaven on which it was fixed, 
 
 radiant with beauty, and holiness, and joy as the face of an 
 
 angel, offered up her thanksgiving. 
 
 The explanation of the scene that perplexed me was given 
 in a few words, interrupted only by tears and sighs of delight. 
 With the burst of the earthquake the supernatural darkness 
 had cleared away. I was flung under the shelter of one of 
 those caves which abound in the gorges of the mountains 
 round Jerusalem. Miriam and her iofant were flung by my 
 side, yet unhurt. While I lay insensible iu her arms, she, 
 by sLugular good fortune, found herself surrounded by a troop 
 of our kinsmen returning from the city, where terror had 
 suffered but few to remaia. They placed her and her infant 
 on their camels. Me they would have consigned to the 
 sepulcher of the priests ; but Miriam was not to be shaken 
 in her purpose to watch over me until all hope was gone. I 
 was thus carried along — and they were now three days on 
 their journey homeward. The landscape before me was 
 Samaria. 
 
 My natural destination would have been the cities of the 
 priests " which lay to the south, bordering upon Hebron. In 
 those thirteen opulent and noble residences allotted to the 
 higher ministry of the Temple, they enjoyed all that could 
 be offered by the munificent wisdom of the state — wealth 
 that raised them above the pressures of life, yet not so great 
 as to extiaguish the desire of intellectual distinction or the 
 love of the loftier virtues. The means of mental cultivation 
 were provided for them with more than royal liberality. 
 Copies of the sacred books, multiplied in every form, and 
 adorned with the finest skill of the pencU and the sculptor 
 in gold and other precious materials, attested at once the 
 
 33 
 
TTattg ^bou ^lll H Come 
 
 Ub« power reverence of the nation for its law, and the perfection to 
 ** whieli it had brought the decorative arts. The works of 
 
 strangers eminent for genius or knowledge, or even for the 
 singularity of their subject, were not less to be fovtnd in those 
 stately treasure-houses of mind. There the priest might relax 
 his spirit from the subUmer studies of his country by the 
 bold and brilliant epics of Greece, the fantastic passion and 
 figured beauty of the Persian poesy, or the alternate severity 
 and sweetness of the Indian drama — that startling union of 
 all lovely images of nature, the bloom and fragrance of flow- 
 ers, the hues of the Oriental heaven, and the perfumes of 
 isles of spice and cinnamon, with the grim and subterranean 
 terrors of a gigantic idolatry. There he might spread the 
 philosophic wing from the glittering creations of Grecian 
 metaphysics, to their dark and early oracles in the East ; or, 
 stopping in his central flight, plunge into the profound of 
 Egyptian mystery, where science lies, like the mummy, 
 wrapped in a thousand folds that preserve the form, but pre- 
 serve it with the living principle gone. 
 
 Music, of all pleasures the most intellectual, that glorious 
 painting to the ear, that rich mastery of the gloomier emo- 
 tions of our nature, was studied by the priesthood with a 
 skill that influenced the habits of the country. How often 
 have my fiercest perturbations sunk at the sounds that once 
 filled the breezes of Judea ! How often, when my brain was 
 burning and the blood ran through my veins like molten 
 brass, have I been softened down to painless tears by the 
 chorus from our hills, the mellow harmonies of harp and 
 horn blending with the voices of the youths and maidens of 
 Israel ! How often have I in the night listened, while the 
 chant, ascending with a native richness to which the skill of 
 other nations was dissonance, floated upward like a cloud of 
 incense, bearing the aspirations of holiness and gfratitude to 
 the throne of Him whom man hath not seen nor can see ! 
 
 But those times are sunk deep in the great gulf that ab- 
 sorbs the happiness and genius of man. I have since trav- 
 ersed my country in its length and breadth ; I have marked 
 with my weary feet every valley, and made my restless bed 
 
 34 
 
Salatbfel SoucncBS jfat trom Jerusalem 
 
 upon every hill from Idumea to Lebanon, and from the As- Ube aiave of 
 Syrian sands to the waters of the Mediterranean; yet the harp 
 and voice were dead. I heard sounds on the hills, but they 
 were the cries of the villagers flying before some tyrant gath- 
 erer of a tyrant's tribute. I heard sounds in' the midnight, 
 but they were the howl of the wolf and the yell of the 
 hyena reveling over the naked and dishonored graves, which 
 the infidel had given, in his scorn, to the people of my fathers. 
 
 But the study to which the largest expenditure of wealth 
 and labor was devoted was, as it ought to be, that of the 
 sacred books of Israel. It only makes me rebellious against 
 the decrees of fate to think of the incomparable richness and 
 immaculate character of the volumes over which I have so 
 often hung, and look upon the diminished and degraded ex- 
 terior in which their wisdom now lies before man. Where 
 are now the cases covered with jewels, the clasps of topaz and 
 diamond ; the golden arks in which the volume of the hope 
 of Israel lay, too precious not to be humiliated by the contact 
 with even the richest treasure of earth? Where are the tis- 
 sued curtains, which hid, as in a sanctuary, that mighty roll, 
 too sacred to be glanced on by the casual eye? But, the 
 spoiler — the spoiler! The Arab, the Parthian, the human 
 tiger of the north, that lies crouching for a thousand years in 
 the sheepf old of Judah ! Is there not a sword? Is there not 
 a judgment? Terribly will it judge the oppressor. 
 
 The home of my kinsmen was in the allotment of Naphtali. 
 The original tribe had revolted in the general schism of the 
 kingdoms of Judah and Israel, and was swept into the As- 
 syrian captivity. But on the restoration by Cyrus, fragments 
 of all the captive tribes returned and were suffered to resume 
 their lands. Misfortune wrought its moral on them ; the chief 
 families pledged their allegiance once more to Judah, and 
 were exemplary in paying homage to the spirit and ordinances 
 of their religion. 
 
 We hastened through Samaria. The rancorous enmity 
 borne by the Samaritans to the subjects of Judah, for ages 
 made all intercourse between Jerusalem and the north diffi- 
 cult. It was often totally interrupted by war; it was dan- 
 
 35 
 
Vatts Vbou ITill f Come 
 
 Cbe BUctne»g gerous in peace, and the ferocious character of the popula- 
 of tbe iRoman ^^^^ ^^^ ^.j^^ bitter antipathy of the government made it to 
 the Jew a land of robbers.' But among the evils of the 
 Roman conquest was mingled this good, that it suffered no 
 subordinate tyranny. Its sword cut away at a blow all those 
 minor oppressions which make the misery of provincial life. 
 If the mountain robber invaded the plain, as was his custom 
 of old, the Roman cavalry were instantly on him with the 
 spear, until he took refuge in the mountains ; if he resisted 
 in his native fastnesses, the legionaries pursued him with 
 torch and sword, stifled him if he remained in his cave, or 
 stabbed him at its entrance. If quarrels arose between vil- 
 lages, the cohorts burned them to the groimd ; and the execu- 
 tion was done with a promptitude and completeness that less 
 resembled the ordinary operations of war than the work of 
 superhuman power. The Roman knowledge of our disturb- 
 ances was instantaneous. Signals established on the hills 
 conveyed intelligence with the speed of light, from the remot- 
 est corners of the land to their principal stations. Even in 
 our subsequent conspiracies, the first knowledge that they 
 had broken out was often conveyed to their partizans in the 
 next district by the movement of the Roman troops. Well 
 had they chosen the eagle for their ensign. They rushed with 
 the eagle's rapidity on their victim ; and when it was stretched 
 in blood they left the spot of vengeance, as if they had left 
 it on the wing. Their advance had the rapidity of the most 
 hurried retreat and the steadiness of the most secure tri- 
 umph. Their retreat left nothing behind but the maiks of 
 their irresistible power. 
 
 All the armies of the earth have since passed before me. 
 I have seen the equals of the legions in courage and discipline, 
 and their superiors in those arms by which human life is at 
 the caprice of ambition. But their equals I hav3 never seen, 
 in the individual fitness of the soldier for war ; in his fleet- 
 ness, muscula.r vigor, and exper'jness in the use of his 
 weapons ; in his quick adaptation to all the multiplied pur- 
 poses of the ancient campaign — from the digging of a trench 
 or the management of a catapult to the assault of a citadel; 
 
 26 
 
Salatbfcl 5ourneB3 3Fat ttom 5cniealem 
 
 in his iron endurance of the vicissitudes of climate ; in the Saiatbiei 
 length and regularity of his marches; or in the rapidity, tbrougb 
 boldness, and dexterity of his maneuver in the field. Yet it s»'"»f'« 
 is but a melancholy tribute to the valor of my countrymen to 
 record the Eoman ackno-wledgment, that of all the nations 
 conquered by Rome Judea bore the chain with the haughtiest 
 dignity, and most frequently and fiercely contested the su- 
 premacy of the sword. 
 
 Under that stern supremacy, the Samaritan had long 
 rested and flourished in exemption from the harassing cruelty 
 of petty war. We now passed with our long caravan un- 
 guarded, and moved at will through fields rich with the 
 luxuriance of an Eastern summer, where our fathers would 
 have scarcely ventured but with an army. I made no resist- 
 ance to being thus led away to a region so remote from my 
 own. To have returned to the cities of the priests would 
 have but given me unceasing agony. Even the gates of Jeru- 
 salem were to my feelings anathema. The whole fabric of 
 my mind had undergone a revolution. Like a man tossed at 
 the mercy of the tempest, I sought but a shore — and all 
 shores were alike to ^im who must be an exile forever. 
 
 »7 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 Eleazar Learns of Satathkl's ^^enunciation 
 
 '•SalstbUl'e The country through -which we passed, after leaving the 
 Continue)) boundaries of Samaria — where, with all its peace, no Jew 
 could tread but as in the land of strangers — was new to me. 
 My life had been till now spent in study or in serving the 
 altar ; and I had heard, with the usual and unwise indiffer- 
 ence of men devoted to books, the praise of the picturesque 
 and stately provinces that still remained to our people. I 
 was now to see for myseK, and was often compelled, as we 
 advanced, to reproach the idle prejudice that had so long de- 
 prived me, and might forever deprive so many of my conse- 
 crated brethren, of an enjoyment cheering to the human heart 
 and full of lofty and hallowed memory to the men of 
 Israel. As we passed along, less traveling than wandering 
 at pleasure, through regions where every winding of the mar- 
 ble hUl or descent of the fruitful valley showed us some 
 sudden and romantic beauty of landscape, my kinsmen took a 
 natural pride in pointing out the noble features that made 
 Canaan a living history of Providence.' 
 
 What were even the trophy-covered hills of Greece or the 
 monumental plains of Italy to the hills and plains where the 
 memorial told of the miracles and the presence of the Su- 
 preme? "Look to that rock," they would exclaim; "there 
 descended the angel of the Presence ! On the summit of that 
 cloudy ridge stood Ezekiel, when he saw the vision of the 
 latter days. Look to yonder cleft in the mountains; there 
 fell the lightning from heaven on the Philistine." In our 
 travel we reached a valley, a spot of singular beauty and 
 seclusion, blushing with flowers and sheeted with the olive 
 from its edge down to a stream that rushed brightly through 
 its bosom. There was no dwelling of man in it, but on a 
 
 28 
 
Sleajar Xeacna of Salatbiel's "Renunciatton 
 
 gentler slope of the declivity stood a gigantic terebinth-tree, b ©raset 
 More than curiosity was attracted to this delicious spot, for pau4 
 the laughter and talk of the caravan had instantly subsided 
 at the sight. All, by a common impulse, dismounted from 
 their horses and camels ; and though it was still far from sun- 
 set, the tents were pitched and preparations made for prayer. 
 The spot reminded me of the valley of Hebron, sacred to the 
 Jewish heart as the burial-place of Abraham, Sarah, and 
 Isaac. May they sleep in the bosom of the Lord! The tere- 
 binth-tree, under which the greatest of the patriarchs sat and 
 talked with the angels — the fountain — the cave of Macpelah, 
 in which his mortal frame returned to the earth, to come again 
 in glory, appeared to lie before me. 
 
 From the day of my unspeakable crime, I had never joined 
 in prayer with my people. Yet, I was still a believer in the 
 faith of Israel. I even clung to it with the nervous violence 
 of one who, in a shipwreck, feels that his only hope is the 
 plank in his grasp, and that some more powerful hand is tear- 
 ing even that plank away. But the sight of human beings 
 enjoying the placid consolations of prayer had from the first 
 moment overwhelmed me with so keen a sense of my misfor- 
 tune — the pious gentleness of' attitude and voice, the calm 
 uplifted hand, and low and solemn aspiration were in so deep 
 a contrast to the involuntary wUdness and broken utterings 
 of a heai-t bound in more than adamantine chains, that I 
 shrank from the rebuke and groaned in solitude. 
 
 I went forth into the valley, and was soon lost in its thick 
 vegetation. The sound of the hymn that sank down in min- 
 gled sweetness with the murmuring of the evening air through 
 the leaves, and the bubbling of the brook below, alone told 
 me that I was near human beings. I sat upon a fragment of 
 turf, embroidered as never was kingly footstool, and with my 
 hands clasped over my eyes, to remove from me all the images 
 of life, gave way to that visionary mood of mind in which 
 ideas come and pass in crowds without shape, leaving no 
 
 : more impression than the drops of a sun-shower on the trees. 
 I had remained long in this half -dreaming confusion, and had 
 
 ! almost imagined myself transported to some intermediate 
 
 29 
 
Ztin^ XLboa ^ill f dome 
 
 Sleasat, the realm of being, where a part of the infliction "was that of being 
 o*jtBiriam startled by keen flashes of light from some upper world, when 
 I was roused by the voice of Eleazar, the brother of Miriam, 
 at my side. His manly and generous countenance expressed 
 mingled anxiety and gladness at discovering me. "The 
 whole camp," said he, "have been alarmed at your absence, 
 and have searched for these three hours through every part 
 of our day's journey. Miriam's distraction at length urged 
 me to leave her, and it was by her instinct that I took my 
 way down the only path hitherto unsearched, and where, in- 
 deed, from fear or reverence of the place, few but myself 
 would have wUlingly come." He called to an attendant, and, 
 sending him. up the side of the valley with the tidings, we 
 followed slowly, for I was still feeble. As we emerged into 
 a more open space, the moon lying on masses of cloud, like a 
 queen pillowed on couches of silver, showed me, in her strong 
 illumination of the forest, the flashes which had added to the 
 bewildered pain of my reverie. While I talked with natural 
 animation of the splendor of the heavens, and pointed out the 
 line and figures on the moon's disk, which made it probable 
 that it was, like earth, a place of habitation, he suddenly 
 pressed my hand, and stopping, with his eyes fixed on my 
 face: "How," said he, "does it happen, my friend, my 
 brother Salathiel? " I started, as if my name, the name of 
 my illustrious ancestor, direct in descent from the father of 
 the faithful, were an accusation. He proceeded, with an 
 ardent pressure of my quivering hand : " How is it to be ac- 
 counted for that you, with such contemplations and the 
 knowledge that gives them the dignity of science, can yet be 
 so habitually given over to gloom? Serious crime I will not 
 believe in you, though the best of us are stained. But your 
 character is pure ; I know your nature to be too lofty for the 
 degenerate indulgence of the passions, and Miriam's love for 
 you, a love passing that of women, is in itself a seal of vir- 
 tue. Answer me. Can the wealth, power, or influence of your 
 brother and his house, nay of his tribe, assist you? " 
 
 I was silent. He paused, and we walked on a while, with- 
 out a sound but that of our tread among the leaves ; but his 
 
 30 
 
}£lea3ac Xeacns ol Salatbtel's "Renunciation 
 
 Eiind was full, and it would have way. " Salathiel," said he, speafie of 
 " you do injustice to yourself, to your wife, and to your friends. ®'(?iio'm * 
 This gloom that sits eternally on your forehead must wear 
 away all your uses in society; it bathes your incomparable 
 wife's pillow in tears, and it disheartens, nay distresses, us 
 all. Answer me as one man of honor and integrity would an- 
 other. Have you been disappointed in your ambition? I 
 know your claims. You have knowledge surpassing that of 
 a multitude of your contemporaries; you have talents that 
 ought to be honored ; your character is unimpeached and un- 
 impeachable. Such things ought to have already raised you 
 to eminence. Have you found yourself thwarted by the com- 
 mon artifice of official life? Has some paltry sycophant crept 
 up before you by the oblique path that honor disdains? Or 
 have you felt yourself an excluded and marked man, merely 
 for the display of that manlier vigor, richer genius, and more 
 generous and sincere impulse of heart which to the conscious 
 inferiority of the rabble of understanding is gall and worm- 
 wood? Or have you taken too deeply into your resentment 
 the common criminal negligence that besets common minds in 
 power, and makes them carelessly fling away upon incapacity, 
 and guiltily withhold from worth, the rewards which were 
 entrusted to them as a sacred deposit for the encouragement 
 of national ability and personal virtue? " 
 
 I strongly disavowed all conceptions of the kind, and as- 
 sured him that I felt neither peculiar merits nor peculiar in- 
 juries. " I have seen too much of what ambition and worldly 
 success were made of, to allow hope to excite or failure to 
 depress me. I am even," added I, "so far from being the 
 slave of that most vulgar intemperance of a deranged heart, 
 the diseased craving for the miserable indulgences of worldly 
 distinction, that would to Heaven I might never again enter 
 the gates of Jerusalem ! " 
 
 He started back in surprise. The confession had been alto- 
 gether unintended, and I looked up to see the burst of Jew- 
 ish wrath descending upon me. I saw none. My kinsman's 
 dne countenance was brightened with a lofty joy. " Then 
 you have renounced. But no, it is yet too soon. At your 
 
 31 
 
charts trbou XTill IT Come 
 
 »cBi6e age, with your prospects, can you have renounced the career 
 of isaiab offered to you among the rulers of Israel? " 
 " I have renounced. " 
 " Sincerely, solemnly, upon conviction? " 
 " From the bottom of my soul, now and forever ! " 
 We had reached the open space iu front of the terebinth- 
 tree that stood in majesty, extending its stately branches over 
 a space cleared of all other trees, a sovereign of the forest. 
 In silence he led me under the shade to a small tomb, on 
 which the light fell with broken luster. "This," said he, "is 
 the tomb of the greatest prophet on whose lips the wisdom 
 of Heaven ever burned. There sleeps Isaiah! There is si- 
 lent the voice that for fifty years spoke more than the 
 thoughts of man ia the ears of a guilty people. There are 
 cold the hands that struck the harp of more than mortal 
 sounds to the glory of Him to whom earth and its kingdoms 
 are but as the dust of the balance. There lies the heart 
 which neither the desert, nor the dungeon, nor the teeth of the 
 lion, nor the saw of Manasseh, could tame — the denouncer of 
 our crimes — the scourge of our apostasy — the prophet of that 
 desolation which was to bow the grandeur of Judah to the 
 grave as the tree of the mountain in the whirlwind. Saint 
 and martyr, let my life be as thine ; and if it be the will of 
 God, let my death be even as thine ! " 
 
 He threw himself on his knees and remained iii prayer for 
 a tune. I knelt with him, but no prayer would issue from 
 my heart. He at length rose, and, leading me into the moon- 
 light, said in a low voice: "Is there not, where the holy 
 sleep, a holiness in the very ground? I waive all the super- 
 stitious feelings of the idolater, worshiping the dust of the 
 creature, for the King alike of all. I pass over the natural 
 human homage for the memory of those who have risen above 
 us by the great qualities of their being. But if there are 
 supernal influences acting upon the mind of man; if the 
 winged spirits that minister before the throne still descend to 
 earth on missions of mercy, I will believe that their loved 
 place is round the grave where sleeps the mortal portion of 
 the holy. In all our journeys to the Temple, it has been the 
 
 33 
 
:EIea5ac Xeatns of Salatbfel's iRcnunciation 
 
 custom of our shattered and humiliated tribe to pause beside saratbfei's 
 this tomb, and offer up our homage to that Mightiest of the '•*«"""<='»"''" 
 mighty who made such men for the lights of Israel!" He 
 then earnestly repeated the question: "Have you abandoned 
 your office?" "Yes," was the answer, "totally, with full 
 purpose never to resume it. In your mountains I will live 
 with you, and with you I will die." Memory smote me as I 
 pronounced the word ; the refuge of the grave was not for 
 me! 
 
 "Then," said he, "you have relieved my spirit of a load; 
 you are now my more than brother." He clasped me in his 
 arms. "Yes, Salathiel, I know that your high heart must 
 have scorned the prejudices of the Scribe and the Pharisee; 
 you must have seen through and loathed the smiling hypoc- 
 risy, the rancorous bigotry, and the furious thirst of blood 
 that are hourly sinking us below the lowest of the hea- 
 then. Hating the tyranny of the Eoman, as I live this hour, 
 I would rather see the city of David inhabited by none but 
 the idolater, or delivered over to the curse of Babylon and 
 made the couch of the lion and the serpent, than see its 
 courts filled with those impious traitors to the spirit of the 
 law, those cruel extortioners under the mask of self-denial, 
 those malignant revelers in human torture under the name of 
 insulted religion, whose joy is crim.e, and every hour of 
 whose being but wearies the long-suffering of God and pre- 
 cipitates the ruin of my country." 
 
 He drew from his bosom and unrolled in the moonlight a 
 small copy of the Scriptures. "My brother," said he, "have 
 you read the holy prophecies of him by whose grave we 
 stand? " My only answer was a smile ; they were the chief 
 study of the priesthood. "True," said he; "no doubt, you 
 have read the words of the prophet. But wisdom is known 
 of her children, and of them alone. Read here." 
 
 I read the famous Haphtorah : ' " Who hath believed our 
 report? and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed? For 
 he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root 
 out of a dry ground; he hath no form nor comeliness; and 
 Trhen we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should de* 
 
 3 Mi 
 
Z&tvs XTbou ;rill V Come 
 
 ■ebejuture sire Mm. He is the despised and rejected of men; a man of 
 rt Susab sorrows ! '' 
 
 He stopped me, laying his hand on my arm; I felt his 
 strong nerves tremble like an infant's. "Of whom hath the 
 prophet spoken? " uttered he in a voice of intense anxiety. 
 " Of whom? Of the Deliverer that is to restore Judah ; Him 
 that is to come," was my answer. "Him that is to come — 
 still to come ? " he exclaimed. " God of heaven, must the 
 veU be forever on the face of Thy Israel? When shall our 
 darkness be light, and the chain of our spirit be broken!" 
 The glow and power of his countenance sank ; he took the roll 
 with a sigh, and replaced it in his robe ; then with his hands 
 clasped across his bosom, and his head bowed, he led our 
 silent way up the side of the valley. 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 Sahihiel and His 'PeopU 
 
 We soon reached the hill country, and our road passed Ube poeftfon 
 through what were once the allotments of Issachar, Zebulun, " ' ' ^''" 
 and Asher, but by the Roman division was now Upper Gal- 
 ilee. My health had been rapidly restored by the exercise 
 and the balmy air. My more incurable disease was prevented 
 by the journey from perhaps totally engrossing my mind. Of 
 all the antagonists to mental depression, traveling is the most 
 vigorous ; not the flight from place to place, as if evil were to 
 be outrun, nor the enclosure of the weary of life in some nar- 
 row vehicle that adds fever and pestilence to heaviness of 
 heart, but the passing at our ease through the open air and 
 bright landscape of a new country. To me the novelty and 
 loveliness of the land were combined with the memory of 
 the most striking events in human record. I had, too, the 
 advantage of a companionship which would have enlivened 
 travel through the wilderness — brave and cheerful men and 
 women on whose minds and forms nature laid her finest 
 stamp of beauty. 
 
 The name of Jew is now but another title for humiliation. 
 "Who that sees that fallen thing, with his countenance bent to 
 the ground and his form withered of its comeliness, tottering 
 through the proud streets of Europe in some degrading occu- 
 pation, and clothed in the robes of the beggared and the de- 
 spised, could imagine the bold figures and gallant bearing of 
 the lion-hunters, with whom, in the midst of shouts and songs 
 of careless joy, I spurred my barb up the mountain-paths of 
 Galilee ! Yet, fallen as he is, the physiognomy of the Jew 
 retains a share of its original beauty, sufficient to establish 
 the claim of the people to have been the handsomest race on 
 earth. Individuals of superior comeliness may often be found 
 
 35 
 
^arts v:bo\x O^ill f Come 
 
 Ube among the multitudes of mankind. But no nation, nor dis- 
 ' ot'srau^*'' tinct part of any nation, can rival an equal number of the un- 
 happy exiles of Israel in the original impress of that hand 
 ■which made man only a little lower than the angels. To 
 conceive the Jew as he -was, we should picture the stern and 
 ■watchful contraction of the dark eye expanded ; the fierce and 
 ridgy brow lowering no more ; the Up no longer gathered in 
 habitual fear or scorn ; the cheek no longer sallow with want 
 or pining, and the whole man elevated by the returning con- 
 sciousness that he has a rank among nations. All his deform- 
 ities have been the birth of his misfortunes. What beauty 
 can we demand from the dungeon? What dignity of aspect 
 from the hewers of wood and drawers of water for mankind? 
 Where shall we seek the magnificent form and illumined 
 countenance of the hero and the sage — from the heart can- 
 kered by the chain, from the plundered, the enslaved, thfc 
 persecuted of two thousand years? 
 
 Of the daughters of my country I have never seen the 
 equals in beauty. Our blood was Arab, softened down by 
 various changes of state and climate, till it was finally brought 
 to perfection in the most genial air and the most generous 
 son of the globe. The vivid features of the Arab counte- 
 nance, no longer attenuated by the desert, assumed, in the 
 plenty of Egypt, that fulness and fine proportion which still 
 belongs to the dwellers by the Nile ; but the true change was 
 on our entrance into the promised land. Peace, the posses- 
 sion of property, days spent among the cheerful and healthful 
 occupations of rural life, are in themselves productive of the 
 finer developments of the human form — a form whose natural 
 tendency is to beauty. But our nation had an additional and 
 an unshared source of nobleness of aspect : it was free. 
 
 The state of man in the most unfettered republics of the 
 ancient world was slavery compared with the magnanimous 
 and secure establishment of the Jewish commonwealth. Dur- 
 ing the three hundred golden years, from Moses to Samuel — 
 before we were given over to the madness of innovation for 
 our sins, and the demand of an earthly diadem — the Jew was 
 free in the loftiest sense of freedom; free to do all good; re- 
 
 36 
 
Salatbtel and Ibis people 
 
 strioted only from evil ; every man pursuing the unobstructed jfreesom, 
 course pointed out by his genius or his fortune ; every man of'wic^** 
 protected by laws inviolable, or whose violation was instantly 
 visited with punishment by the Eternal Sovereign alike of 
 ruler and people. 
 
 Freedom! twin sister of Virtue, thou brightest of all the 
 spirits that descended in the train of Religion from the throne 
 of God ; thou that leadest up man again to the early glories 
 of his being ; angel, from the circle of whose presence happi- 
 ness spreads like the sunrise over the darkness of the land ; 
 at the waving of whose scepter, knowledge and peace and 
 fortitude and wisdom descend upon the wing; at the voice 
 of whose trumpet the more than grave is broken and slavery 
 gives up her dead, — when shall I see thy coming? When shall 
 I hear thy summons upon the mountains of my country, and 
 rejoice in the regeneration and glory of the sons of Judah? I 
 have traversed nations, and, as I set my foot upon their 
 boundary, I have said, " Freedom is not here ! " I saw the 
 naked hUl, the morass steaming with death, the field covered 
 with weedy fallow, the sickly thicket encumbering the land ; 
 I saw the still more infallible signs, the downcast visage, the 
 form degraded at once by loathsome indolence and desperate 
 poverty; the peasant, cheerless and feeble in his field, the 
 wolfish robber, the population of the cities crowded into huts 
 and cells, with pestilence for their fellow; I saw the con- 
 tumely of man to man, the furious vindictiveness of popular 
 rage, and I pronounced at the moment, " This people is not 
 free!" 
 
 In the various republics of heathen antiquity, the helot 
 living under the yoke of oppression, and the born bondsman 
 lingering out life in thankless toil, at once put to flight all 
 conceptions of freedom. In the midst of altars fuming to 
 liberty, of harangues glowing with the most pompous protes- 
 tations of scorn for servitude, of crowds inflated with the pre- 
 sumption that they disdained a master, the eye was insulted 
 with the perpetual chain. The temple of Liberty was built 
 upon the dungeon. Home came, and unconsciously avenged 
 the insulted name of freedom ; the master and the slave were 
 
 87 
 
aiarrg XTbou ICUl IT Come 
 
 TWibere jfcee« bowed down toffetlier, and the dungeon was made the com- 
 •name lllone mon dwelling of all. 
 
 In the Italian republics of after ages, I saw the vigor that, 
 living in the native soil of empire, has always sprung up on 
 the first call. The time has changed since Italy poured its 
 legions over the world. The volcano was now sleeping; yet 
 the fire still burned within its womb, and threw out in its in- 
 visible strength the luxuriant qualities of the land of power. 
 The innate Roman passion for sovereignty was no longer to 
 find its triumphs in the field; it rushed up the paths of a 
 loftier and more solid glory, with a speed and a strength that 
 left mankind wondering below. The arts, adventure, legisla- 
 tion, literature in all its shapes, of the subtle, the rich, and 
 the sublime, were the peaceful triumphs whose laurels will 
 entwine the Italian brow when the wreath of the Csesars is 
 remembered but as a badge of national folly and individual 
 crime. 
 
 But those republics knew freedom only by name. All, 
 within a few years from their birth, had abandoned its living 
 principles — justice, temperance, and truth. I saw the sol- 
 diery of neighbor cities marching to mutual devastation, and I 
 said, " Freedom is not here ! " I saw abject privation mingled 
 with boundless luxury; in the midst of the noblest works of 
 architecture, the hovel ; in the pomps of citizens covered with 
 cloth of gold, gazing groups of faces haggard with beggary 
 and sin; I saw the sold tribunal, the inexorable state prison, 
 the established spy, the protected assassin, the secret torture ; 
 and I said, "Freedom is not here! " The pageant filled the 
 streets with more than kingly blazonry, the trumpets flour- 
 ished, the multitude shouted, the painter covered the walls 
 with immortal emblems, in honor of Freedom ; I pointed to 
 the dungeon, the rack, and the dagger! Bitterer and deeper 
 sign than all, I pointed to the exile of exiles, the broken 
 man, whom even the broken trample, of all the undone the 
 most undone — my outcast brother in the blood of Abraham ! 
 
 I am not about to be his defender ; I am not regardless of 
 his tremendous crime ; I can not stand up alone against the 
 voice of universal man, which has cried out that thus it shall 
 
Salatbiel and Ibis t>eop\e 
 
 be ; but I say it from the depths of my soul, and as I hope Ube TiBiomen 
 for rest to my miseries, that I never saw freedom survive in " *'"'^* 
 that land which loved to smite the Jew ! 
 
 I saw one republic more, the mightiest and the last ; for the 
 justice of Heaven on the land, the most terrible ; for the mercy 
 of Heaven to mankind, the briefest iu its devastation. But 
 there all was hypocrisy that was not horror ; the only equal 
 rights were those of the equal robber ; the sacred figure of 
 Liberty veiled its face ; and the offering on its violated shriue 
 was the spoil of honor, bravery, and virtue. 
 
 The daughters of our nation, sharing in the rights of its 
 sons, bore the lofty impression that virtuous freedom always 
 stamps on the human features. But they had the softer 
 graces of their sex in a degree unequaled in the ancient 
 world. While the woman of the East was immured behind 
 bolts and bars, from time immemorial a prisoner, and the 
 woman of the West was a toy, a savage, or a slave, our wives 
 and maidens enjoyed the intercourses of society, which their 
 talents were well calculated to cheer and adorn. They were 
 skilled on the harp ; their sweet voices were tuned to the rich- 
 est strains of eaxth ; they were graceful in the dance ; the 
 writings of our bards were in their hands ; and what nation 
 ever possessed such illustrious founts of thought and virtue ! 
 But there was another and a still higher ground for that 
 peculiar expression which makes their countenance still 
 lighten before me, as somethiug of more than mortal beauty. 
 The earliest consciousness of every Jewish woman was, that 
 she might, in the hand of Providence, be the sacred source 
 of a blessing and a glory that throws all imagination into the 
 shade ; that of her might be bom a Being, to whom earth and 
 all its kings should bow — the more than man ! the more than 
 angel! veiling for a little time His splendors in the form of 
 man, to raise Israel to the scepter of the world, to raise that 
 world into a renewed paradise, and then to resume His original 
 glory, and be Sovereign, Creator, God — all in all ! . 
 
 This consciousness, however dimmed, was never forgotten j 
 the misfortunes of Judah never breaking the strong link by 
 which we held to the future. The reliance on predictions 
 
 80 
 
(Tarrg ITbou ^ill H Come 
 
 Ube Aassing perpetually renewed, and never more vividly renewed than in 
 of Dubai's the midst of our misfortunes — a reliance commemorated in all 
 BaugbterB ^j^g gjgat ceremonies of our nation, in our worship, in our 
 festivals, in every baptism, in every marriage — must have 
 filled a large space in the susceptible mind of woman. 
 And what but the mind forms the countenance? And what 
 must have been the molding of that most magnificent and 
 elevating of all hopes, for centuries, on the most plastic and 
 expressive features in the world? 
 
 Sacredly reserved from intermixture with the blood of the 
 stranger, the hope was spread throughout Israel. The line 
 of David was pure, but its connection had shot widely 
 through the land. It was like the Indian tree taking root 
 through a thousand trees. Every Jewish woman might hope 
 to be the living altar on which the Light to lighten the Gen- 
 tiles was to descend! The humblest might be the blessed 
 among women — the mother of the Messiah! But all is gone! 
 Ages of wandering, wo, poverty, contumely, and mixture of 
 blood have done their work of evil. The loveliness may 
 partially remain, but the glory of Judah's daughters is no 
 more. 
 
 40 
 
CHAPTER Vn 
 The Loss of a. Life 
 
 We continued ascending through the defiles of the moun- H wioif abase 
 tain range of Carmel. The gorges of the hills gave us alter- SSuntadil 
 nate glimpses of Lower Galilee, and of the great sea which 
 lay bounding the western horizon with azure. The morning 
 breezes from the land, now in the full vegetation of the rapid 
 spring of Palestine, scarcely ceased to fill the heavens with 
 fragrance, when the sea-wind sprang up and, with the cool- 
 ness and purity of a gush of fountain-waters, renewed the 
 spirit of life in the air and made the whole caravan forget its 
 fatigue. Our bold hunters spurred down the valleys and up 
 the hills with the wildness of superfluous vigor, tossed their 
 lances into the air, sang their mountain songs, and shouted 
 the cries of the chase and the battle. 
 
 On one eventful day a wolf was started from its covert, and 
 every rein was let loose in a moment; nothing could stop the 
 fearlessness of the riders or exhaust the fire of the steeds. 
 The caravan, coming on slowly with the women and children 
 and lengthening out among the passes, was forgotten. I 
 scorned to be left behind, and followed my daring companions 
 at full speed. The wolf led us a long chase ; and on the sum- 
 mit of a rock, still blazing in the sunlight like a beacon, while 
 the plain was growing dim, he fought his last fight, and, trans- 
 fixed with a hundred lances, died the death of a hero. But 
 the spot which we had reached supplied statelier contempla- 
 tions : we were on the summit of Mount Tabor ; the eye wan- 
 dered over the whole glory of the Land of Promise. To the 
 south extended the mountains of Samaria, their peaked sum- 
 mits glowing in the sun with the colored brilliancy of a chain 
 of gems. To the east lay the lake of Tiberias, a long line of 
 purple. Northward, like a thousand rainbows, ascended, lit 
 
 41 
 
XS^atvs t^bou zni f Come 
 
 Salatbtei's by the -western flame, the mountains of Gilboa, those memor- 
 
 flDouiuuabor able hills on which the spear of Saul was broken, and the first 
 
 curse of our obstinacy was branded upon us in the blood of 
 
 our first king. Closing the superb circle, and soaring into the 
 
 very heavens, ascended step by step the Antilibanus. 
 
 Of all the sights that nature offers to the eye and mind of 
 man, mountains have always stirred my strongest feelings. I 
 have seen the ocean when it was turned up from the bottom 
 by tempest, and noon was like night with the conflict of the 
 billows and the storm that tore and scattered them in mist 
 and foam across the sky. I have seen the desert rise around 
 me, and calmly, in the midst of thousands uttering cries of 
 horror and paralyzed by fear, have contemplated the sandy 
 pillars coming like the advance of some gigantic city of con- 
 flagration flying across the wilderness, every column glowing 
 with intense fire and every blast with death ; the sky vaulted 
 with gloom, the earth a furnace. But with me, the mountain 
 — in tempest or in cabn, whether the throne of the thunder 
 or with the evening sun painting its dells and declivities in 
 colors dipped in heaven — has been the source of the most ab- 
 sorbing sensations : there stands magnitude, giving the instant 
 impression of a power above man — grandeur that defies decay 
 — antiquity that tells of ages unnumbered — beauty that the 
 touch of time makes only more beautiful — use exhaustless for 
 the service of man — strength imperishable as the globe ; the 
 monument of eternity — the truest earthly emblem of that ever- 
 living, unchangeable, irresistible Majesty by whom and for 
 whom all things were made ! 
 
 I was gazing on the Antilibanus, and peopling its distant 
 slopes with figures of other worlds ascending and descending, 
 as in the patriarch's dream, when I was roused by the tram- 
 pling steed of one of my kinsmen returning with the wolf's 
 head, the trophy of his superior prowess, at his saddle-bow. 
 
 "So," said he, "you disdained to share the last battle of 
 that dog of the Galilees? But we shall show you something 
 better worth the chase when we reach home. The first snow 
 that drives the lions down from Lebanon, or the first hot wind 
 that sends the panthers flying before it from Assyria, will 
 
 42 
 
Zbe %OBS of a %itc 
 
 have all our villages up in arms ; every man who can draw a Subai's Uribal 
 bow or throw a lance will be on the mountains; and then 
 we shall give you the honors of a hunter in exchange for your 
 philosophy." He uttored this with a jovial laugh, and a hand 
 grasping miae with the grip of a giant. "Yet," said he, and 
 a shade passed over his brow, " I wish we had something bet- 
 ter to do ; you must not look down upon Jubal, and the tribe 
 of your brother Eleazar, as mere rovers after wolves and pan- 
 thers."'" 
 
 I willingly declared my respect for the intrepidity and dex- 
 terity which the mountain life insured. I applauded its 
 health, activity, and cheerfulness. " Yet," interrupted Jubal 
 sternly, "what can be done while those Eomans are every- 
 where round us?" He stopped short, reined up his horse 
 with a sudden force that made the animal spring from the 
 ground, flung his lance high in air, caught it ia the fall, and 
 having thus relieved his indignation, returned to discuss with 
 me the chances of a Roman war. "Look at those," said he, 
 pointing to the horsemen who were now bounding across the 
 declivities to rejoin the caravan; "their horses are flame, their 
 bodies are iron, and their souls would be both if they had a 
 leader." "Eleazar is brave," I replied. "Brave as his own 
 lance," was the answer; "no warmer heart, wiser head, or 
 firmer arm moves at this hour within the borders of the land. 
 But he despairs." "He knows," said I, "the Eoman power 
 and the Jewish weakness." 
 
 " Both — both, too well ! " was the reply. " But he forgets 
 the power that is in the cause of a people fighting for their 
 law and for their rights, in the midst of glorious remem- 
 brances, nay, in the hope of a help greater than that of the 
 sword. Look at the tract beyond those linden-trees." 
 
 He pointed to a broken extent of ground, darkly distin- 
 guishable from the rest of the plain. " On that ground, to 
 this moment wearing the look of a grave, was drawn up the 
 host of Sisera; under that ground is its grave. By this 
 stone," and he struck his lance on a rough pillar defaced by 
 timej " stood Deborah the prophetess, prophesying against the 
 thousands and tens of thousands of the heathen below. On 
 
 43 
 
^accs Ubou ^ill H Come 
 
 3ubai, this hill were drawn up the army of Barak, as a drop ia the 
 TOiarcior ocean Compared with the infidel multitudes. They were the 
 ancestors of the men whom you now see trooping before you ; 
 the men of Naphtali, with their brothers of Zebulun. On 
 this spot they gathered their might like the storm of heaven. 
 From this spot they poured down like its whirlwinds and 
 lightnings upon the taunting enemy. God was their leader. 
 They rushed upon the nine hundred scythed chariots, upon 
 the mailed cavalry, upon the countless infantry. Of all, but 
 one escaped, from the plain of Jezreel, and that one only to 
 perish in his flight by the degradation of a woman's hand! " 
 He wheeled round his foaming horse, and appealed to me. 
 " Are the Eoman legions more numerous than that host of the 
 dead? Is Israel now less valiant, less wronged, or less indig- 
 nant? Shall no prophet arise among us again? Shall it not 
 be sung again, as it was then sung to the harps of Israel; 
 ' Zebulun and Naphtali were a people that jeoparded their lives 
 unto the death in the high places of the field ' ? " 
 
 I looked with involuntary wonder at the change wrought 
 in him by those proud recollections. The rude and jovial 
 hunter was no more ; the Jewish warrior stood before me, 
 filled with the double impulse of generous scorn of the oppres- 
 sion and of high dependence on the fate of his nation. His 
 countenance was ennobled, his form seemed to dilate, his voice 
 grew sonorous as a trumpet. A sudden burst of the- declining 
 sun broke upon his figure, and threw a sheet of splendor across 
 the scarlet turban, the glittering tunic, the spear-point lifted 
 in the strenuous hand, the richly caparisoned front and san- 
 guine nostrils of his impatient charger. A GentUe would 
 have worshiped him as the tutelar genius of war. I saw in 
 him but the man that our history and our law were ordained 
 beyond all others to have made — the native strength of char- 
 acter raised into heroism by the conviction of a guiding and 
 protecting Providence. 
 
 The conversation was not forgotten on either side; and it 
 bore fruit, fearful fruit, in time. 
 
 We had reached on our return a commanding point, from 
 which we looked into the depths already filling with twilight^ 
 
 44 
 
Zbe %03s of a Xffe 
 
 and through whose blue vapors the caravau toiled slowly SaiatMei'a 
 along, like a wearied fleet in some billowy sea. Suddenly tbe'|?K^ue 
 a tumult was peroeived below ; shouts of confusion and terror 
 rose, and the whole caravan was seen scattering in all direc- 
 tions through the passes. For the first moment we thought 
 that it had been attacked by the mountain robbers. We 
 grasped our lances, and galloped down the side of the hill to 
 charge them, when we were stopped at once by a cry from 
 the ridge which we had just left. It struck through my heart 
 — the voice was Miriam's. To my unspeakable horror, I saw 
 her dromedary, mad with fear and pouring blood, rush along 
 the edge of the precipice. I saw the figure clinging to his 
 neck. The light forsook my eyes, and but for the grasp of 
 Jubal, I must have fallen to the ground. His voice aroused 
 me. "When I looked round again, the shouts had died, the 
 troop had disappeared — it seemed all a dream ! 
 
 But, again., the shouts came doubling upon the wind, and 
 far as the eye could pierce through the dusk, I saw the white 
 robe of Miriam flying along like a vapor, I threw ' ae reins 
 on my horse's neck — I roused him with my voice — I rushed 
 with the fearlessness of despair through the hills — I overtook 
 the troop — I outstripped them — still the vision flew before 
 me. At length it sank. The dromedary had plunged down 
 the precipice, a depth of hideous darkness. A torrent roared 
 below. I struck in the spur to follow. My horse wheeled 
 round on the edge ; while I strove to force him to the leap, 
 my kinsmen came up, with Eleazar at their head. Bold as 
 they were, they all recoiled from the frightful depth. Even 
 in that wild moment I had time to feel that this was but the 
 beginning of my inflictions, and that I was to be the ruin of 
 all that belonged to me. In consciousness unspeakable, I 
 sprang from my startled steed, and before a hand could 
 check me I plunged in. A cry of astonishment and horror 
 rang in my ears as I fell. The roar of waters was then 
 around me. I struggled with the torrent, gasped, and heard 
 no more. 
 
 This desperate effort saved the life of Miriam. We were 
 found apparently dead, clasped in each other's arms, at some 
 
tTarrs tTbou Uil( f Come 
 
 "Cbe Spring ot distance down tlie stream. The plunge had broken the band 
 by ■which she was fixed oti the saddle. She floated, and we 
 were thrown together by the eddy. After long effort, we 
 were restored. But the lamentations of my matchless wife 
 were restrained beside my couch, only to burst forth when 
 she was alone. We had lost our infant ! 
 
 The chase of the wolves in the mountain had driven them 
 across the march of the caravan. One of those savages sprang 
 upon the flank of the dromedary. The animal, in the agony 
 of its wounds, burst away ; its proverbial fleetness bafiB^ed pur- 
 suit, and it was almost fortunate that it at length bounded 
 over the precipice, as, in the mountain country, its precious 
 burden must have perished by the lion or by famine. Miriam 
 held her babe with the strong grasp of a mother, but in the 
 torrent that grasp was dissolved. AU our search was in 
 vain. My wife wept; but I had in her rescued my chief 
 treasure on earth, and was partially consoled by the sam,e 
 deep feeling which pronounced that I might have been pun- 
 ished by the loss of all. 
 
 «A 
 
CHAPTER Vm 
 
 Salaihid Confronts the Shade of Aniiochas 
 
 Let me hasten through some years." The sunshine of life SaiatMei'g 
 was gone ; m all my desire to conform to the habits of my 
 ne-w career, I found myself incapable of contentment. But 
 the times, that had long resembled the stagnation of a lake, 
 were beginning to be shaken. Eome herself, the prey of con- 
 spiracy, gradually held her foreign scepter with a feebler 
 hand. Gaul and Germany were covered with gathering 
 clouds, and their flashes were answered from the Asiatic 
 hills. With the relaxation of the paramount authority, the 
 chain of subordinate oppression, as always happens, was made 
 tighter. As the master was enfeebled, the menials were less 
 in awe ; and Judea rapidly felt what must be the evils of a 
 military government without the strictness of military dis- 
 cipline. 
 
 I protest against being charged with ambition. But I had 
 a painful sense of the guilt of suffering even such powers as 
 I might possess to waste away, without use to some part of 
 mankind. I was weary of the utter unproductiveness of the 
 animal enjoyments, in which I saw the multitude round me 
 content to linger into old age. I longed for an opportunity 
 of contributing my mite to the solid possessions by which 
 posterity is wiser, happier, or purer than the generation be- 
 fore it— some trivial tribute to that mighty stream of time 
 which ought to go on, continually bringing richer fertility as 
 it flowed. I was not grieved by the change which I saw over- 
 shadowing the gorgeous empire of Eome. My unspeakable 
 crime may have thrown a deeper tinge on those contempla- 
 tions. But by a singular fatality, and perhaps for the in- 
 crease of my punishment, I was left for long periods in 
 I each year to the common impressions of life. The wisdom, 
 
 47 
 
tlatrs ^bou ^Till H Come 
 
 Ibis Aainfui which even my great misfortune might have forced upon me, 
 ■was withheld; and the being who, in the conviction of his 
 mysterious destiny, must have looked upon earth and its pur- 
 suits as man looks upon the labors and the life of flies — as 
 atoms in the sunshine — as measureless emptiness and trifling 
 — was given over to be disturbed by the impulses of genera- 
 tions on )vhose dust he was to sit, and to see other genera- 
 tions rise round him, themselves to sink alike into dust, while 
 he still sat an image of endurance, torturing, but imperish- 
 able. 
 
 There was a season in each year when those recollections 
 returned with overwhehning vividness. If all other knowl- 
 edge of the approach of the Passover could have escaped me, 
 there were signs, fearful signs, that warned me of that hour 
 of my wo. A periodic dread of the sight of man, a sudden 
 sense of my utter separation from the interests of the transi' 
 tory beings around me, wild dreams, days of immovable ab- 
 straction, yet filled with the breathing picture of all that I 
 had done on the day of my guilt in Jerusalem, rose before 
 me with such intense reality that I lived again through the 
 scene. The successive progress of my crime — the swift and 
 stinging consciousness of condemnation — the flash of fearful 
 knowledge, that showed me futurity — all were felt with the 
 keenness of a being from whom his fleshly nature has been 
 stripped away and the soul bared to every visitation of pain. 
 I stood, like a disembodied spirit, iu suffering. 
 
 Yet I could not be restrained from following my tribe on 
 their annual progress to the Holy City. To see from afar the 
 towers of the Temple was with me like a craving for life — 
 but I never dared to set my foot within its gates. On some 
 pretense or other, and sometimes through real powerlessness, 
 arising from the conflict of my heart, I lingered behind, yet 
 within the distance from which the city could be seen. There 
 among the precipices I wandered through the day, listening 
 to the various uproar of the niighty multitude, or wistfully 
 catching some echo of the hymns in the Temple — sounds that 
 stole from my eye many a tear^till darkness fell, the city 
 slumbered, and the blast of the Eoman trumpets, as they di- 
 
 48 
 
Salatbiel Confronte tbe Sba&e of Bntfocbus 
 
 vided the night, reminded me of the fallen glories of my saiatsiei jsu 
 country. stoe tbe lake 
 
 In one of those wanderings I had foUo-wed the courses of 
 the Kedron, which, from a brook under the walls of Jerusa- 
 lem, swells to a river on its descent to the Dead Sea. The 
 blood of the sacrifices from the conduits of the altars curdled 
 on its surface and stained the sands purple. It looked like 
 a wounded vein from the mighty heart above. I still strayed 
 on, wrapped in sad forebodings of the hour when its staius 
 might be of more than sacrifice, untO. I found myself on the 
 edge of the lake. Who has ever seen that black expanse 
 without a shudder? There were the engulfed cities. Around 
 it life was extinct — no animal bounded — no bird hovered. 
 The distant rushing of the Jordan, as it forced its current 
 through the heavy waters, or the sigh of the wind through 
 the reeds, alone broke the silence of this mighty grave. Of 
 the melancholy objects of nature, none is more depressing 
 than a large expanse of stagnant waters. No gloom of forest 
 or wildness of mountain is so overpowering' as this dreary, 
 unrelieved flatness — the marshy border, the sickly vegetation 
 of the shore, the leaden color which even the sky above it 
 wears, tinged by its sepulchral atmosphere. But the waters 
 before me were not left to the dreams of a saddened fancy — 
 they were a sepulcher. Myriads of human beings lay beneath 
 them, entombed in sulfurous beds. The wrath of Heaven 
 had been there I The day of destruction seemed to pass again 
 before my eyes, as I lay gazing upon those sullen depths. I 
 saw them once more a plain covered with richness ; cities glit- 
 tering in the morning sun ; multitudes pouring out from their 
 gates to sports and festivals ; the land exulting with life and 
 luxuriance: Then a cloud gathered above. I heard the 
 thunder: it was answered by the earthquake. Fire burst 
 from the skies : it was answered by a thousand founts of fire 
 spouting from the plain. The distant hills blazed and threw 
 volcanic showers over the cities. Bound them was a tide of 
 burning bitumen. The earthquake heaved again. All sank 
 into the gulf. I heard the roar of the distant waters. They 
 rushed into the bed of fire; the doom was done; the cities of 
 
 4 49 
 
^accs Cbou ;rui ir Come 
 
 a mtMng the plain were gone down to tlie blackness of darkness for- 
 CTer! 
 
 I was idly watching the bursts of suffocating vapor, that 
 shoot up at intervals from the rising masses of bitumen, when 
 I was startled by a wild laugh and wilder figure beside me. 
 I sprang to my feet, and prepared for defense with my pon- 
 iard. The figure waved its hand, in sign to sheathe the unnec- 
 essary weapon, and said, in a tone strange and melancholy : 
 " You are in my power, but I do not come to injure you. I 
 have been contemplating your countenance for some time ; I 
 have seen your disturbed features — your wringing hands — 
 your convulsed form — are you even as I am? " 
 
 The voice was sing^arly mild ; yet I never heard a sound 
 that so keenly pierced my brain. The speaker was of the 
 tallest stature of man — every sinew and muscle exhibiting gi- 
 gantic strength ; yet with the symmetry of a Greek statue. 
 But his countenance was the true wonder — it was of the finest 
 mold of manly beauty; the contour was Greek, though the hue 
 was Syrian — yet the dark tinge of country gave way at times 
 to a corpse-like paleness. I had f uU leisure for the view, for 
 he stood gazing on me without a word and I remained fixed 
 on my defense. At length he said: "Put up that poniard! 
 You could no more hurt me than you could resist me. Look 
 here ! " He wrenched a huge mass of rock from the ground 
 and whirled it far into the lake, as if it had been a pebble. I 
 gazed with speechless astonishment. "Yes," pursued the 
 figure, "they throw me into their prisons — they lash me — 
 they stretch me on the rack — they burn my flesh." As he 
 spoke he flung aside his robe and showed his broad breast 
 covered with scars. " Short-sighted fools ! little they know 
 ^lim who suffers or him who commands. If it were not my 
 will to endure, I could crush my tormentors as I crush an 
 insect. They chain me, too," said he with a laugh of scorn. 
 He drew out the arm which had been hitherto wrapped in his 
 robe. It was loaded with heavy links of iron. He grasped 
 one of them in his hand, twisted it off with scarcely an effort, 
 and flung it up a sightless distance in the air, " Such are 
 bars and bolts to me I "When my time is come to suffer, I 
 
 60 
 
Salatbiel Conftonts tbe Sbade of Bntiocbus 
 
 submit to be tortured! When that time is past, I tear away saiatbiei 
 their fetters, burst their dungeons, and walk forth trampling ™'^* iPowet 
 their armed men." 
 
 I sheathed the dagger. " Does this strength amaze you? " 
 said the being ; " look to yonder dust " — and he pointed to a 
 cloud of sand that came flying along the shore. "I could 
 outstrip that whirlwind; I could plunge unhurt into the 
 depths of that sea; I could ascend that mountain swifter 
 than the eagle ; I could ride that thunder-cloud." 
 
 As he threw himself back, gazing upon the sky with his 
 grand form buoyant with vigor and his arm raised, he looked 
 like one to whom height or depth could offer no obstacle. 
 His mantle flew out along the blast, like the unfurling of a 
 mighty wing. There was something in his look and voice 
 that gave irresistible conviction to his words. Conscious 
 mastery was ia all about him. I should not have felt sur- 
 prise to see him spring up into the clouds ! 
 
 My mind grew inflamed by his presence. My blood burned 
 with sensations for which language was no name — a thirst 
 of power — a scorn of earth — a proud and fiery longing for 
 the command of the hidden mysteries of nature. I felt as 
 the great ancestor of mankind might have felt when the 
 tempter told him, "Ye shall be even as gods." 
 
 "Give me your power!" I exclaimed; "the world to me is 
 worthless ; with man all my ties are broken ; let me live in 
 the desert, and be even as you are ; give me your power." 
 "My power?" he repeated, with a ghastly laugh that was 
 echoed xound the wilderness by what seemed voices innumer- 
 able imtil it died away in a distant groan. " Look on this 
 forehead! " — he threw back the comer of his mantle. A fur- 
 row was drawn round his brow, covered with gore, and ga- 
 ping like a fresh wound. " Here," cried he, " sat the dia- 
 dem. I was Epiphanes." " 
 
 " You, Antiochus ! the tyrant — the persecutor — the spoiler 
 — the accursed of Israel!" I bounded backward in sudden 
 horror. I saw before me one of those spirits of the evil 
 dead who are allowed from time to time to reappear on earth 
 in the body, whether of the dead or the living. For some 
 
 61 
 
tlartB TTbou CII1 11 Come 
 
 TObicb »n«o= cause that none could unfold, Judea had heen, within the last 
 torn es ^^^ years, haunted by those beings more than for centuries. 
 Strange rites, dangerously borrowed from the idolaters, were 
 resorted to for our relief from this new terror : the pulling of 
 the mandrake at the eclipse of the moon — incantations — mid- 
 night offerings — the root of Eaaras, that was said to flash 
 flame and kill the animal that drew it from the ground. Our 
 Sadducees and skeptics, wise in their own conceit, declared 
 that possession was but a human disease, a wilder insanity. 
 But, with the range and misery of madness, there were tre- 
 mendous distinctions, which raised it beyond all the ravages of 
 the hurt mind or the afflicted frame — the look, the language, 
 the horror, of the possessed were above man. They defied 
 human restraint ; they lived in wildernesses where the very 
 serpents died; the fiery sun of the East, the inclemency of 
 the fiercest winter, had no power to break down their strength. 
 But they had stronger signs. They spoke of things to which 
 the wisdom of the wisest was folly ; they told of the remotest 
 future, with the force of prophecy ; they gave glimpses of a 
 knowledge brought from realms of being inaccessible to living 
 man ; last and loftiest sign, they did homage to His coming, 
 whom a cloud of darkness, the guilty and impenetrable dark- 
 ness of the heart, had veiled from my unhappy nation. But 
 their worship was terror — they believed and trembled. 
 
 " Power," said the possessed, and his large and unmoving 
 eyes seemed lighting up with fire from within ; " power you 
 shall have, and hate it; wealth you shall have, and hate it; 
 life you shall have, and hate it; yet you shall know the 
 heights and depths of man. You shall be the worm among 
 a nation of worms ; you shall be steeped in ruin to the lips ; 
 
 you shall undergo the bitterness of death, until " His 
 
 brow writhed; he gnashed his teeth, and convulsively sprang 
 from the ground, as if an arrow had shot through him. 
 
 The current of his thoughts suddenly changed. Things 
 above man were not to be uttered to the ear unopened by the 
 grave. " Come," said he, " son of misfortune, emblem of the 
 nation that living shall die, and dying shall live ; that, tram- 
 pled by aU, shall trample upon all; that, bleeding from a 
 
 62 
 
Salatbfel Confronts tbe Sbade of Bntlocbus 
 
 thousand -wouiids, shall be unhurt ; that, beggared, shall wield saiatbfet 
 the wealth of nations ; that, without a name, shall sway the "'fw* 
 councils of kings; that, without a city, shall inhabit in all 
 kingdoms; that, scattered like the dust, shall be bound to- 
 gether like the rock; that, perishing by the sword, by the 
 chain, by famine, by fire, shall yet be imperishable, unnum- 
 bered, glorious as the stars of heaven." 
 
 Overwhelmed with sensations, rushing in a flood through my 
 heart, I had cast myself upon the ground; the flashing of the 
 fiery eye before me consumed my blood ; and, fainting, I lay 
 with my face upon the sand. But his words were deeply 
 heard ; with every sound of his searching voice they struck 
 into my soul. He grasped me ; and I was lifted up like an 
 infant in his clutch. " Come," said he, " and see what is re- 
 served for you and for your people." 
 
 He darted forward with a speed that took away my breath ; 
 he ran — he bounded — he flew. "Now, behold," he uttered 
 in an accent as composed as if he had not moved a limb. 
 I looked, and found myself on one of the hills close to the 
 great southern gate of Jerusalem. Years had passed since I 
 ventured so nigh. But I now gazed on the city of pomp and 
 beauty with an involuntary wonder that I could have ever 
 deserted a scene so lovely and so loved. 
 
 It was the twilight of a summer evening. Tower and wall 
 ky bathed in a sea of purple ; the Temple rose from its cen- 
 ter like an island of light; the host of heaven came riding up 
 the blue fields above; the sounds of day died in harmony. 
 All was the sweetness, calmness, and splendor of a vision 
 painted in the clouds. 
 
 "There," said the possessed, "I was once master, con- 
 queror, avenger; yet I was but the instrument to punish your 
 furious dissensions — your guilty abandonment of the law of 
 your leader — your more than Gentile apostasy from the wor- 
 ship of Him who is to be worshiped with more than the 
 blood of bulls and goats. A power hidden from my idola- 
 trous eyes went befoie me and broke down the courage of 
 your people. I marched through your gates on the neck of 
 the godless warrior; I plundered the wealth of your rich men, 
 
 as 
 
trarrij ^bou tllll IF Come 
 
 & |>ropbecs made worldly by their wealth ; I slew your priesthood, al- 
 e iru ure ^.^^^^ ^j^g betrayers of their altar ; I oTerthrew your places 
 of -worship, already defiled; I covered the ruins with the 
 blood of swine; I raised idols ia the sanctuary; I bore away 
 the golden vessels of the Temple, and gave them to the insult 
 of the Syrian ; I slew your males, I made captives of your 
 women; I abolished your sacrifices, and pronounced in my 
 hour of blasphemy that within the walls of Jerusalem the 
 flame should never again be kindled to the Supreme. The deed 
 was mine, but the cause was the iniquity of your people." 
 
 The history of devastation roused in me those feelings na- 
 tive to the Jew by which I had been taught to look with ab- 
 horrence on the devastator. 
 
 " Let me be gone," I exclaimed, struggling from his grasp. 
 " Strange and terrible being, let me hear no more this outrage 
 on God and man. I am guilty, too guilty, in having listened 
 to you for a moment." 
 
 He laid his hand upon my brow, and I felt my strength dis- 
 solve at the touch. 
 
 " Go," said he, " but first be a witness of the future. A 
 fiercer destroyer than Epiphanes shall come, to punish a darker 
 crime than ever stained your forefathers. A destruction shall 
 come to which the past was the sport of children. Tower and 
 wall, citadel and temple, shall be dust. The sword shall do 
 its work — the chain shall do its work — the flame shall do its 
 work. Bad spirits shall rejoice ; good spirits shall weep ; Is- 
 rael shall be clothed in sackcloth and ashes for a time, im- 
 penetrable by a created eye. The world shall exult, trample, 
 scorn, and slay. Blindness, madness, and misery shall be 
 the portion of the people. Now, behold ! " 
 
 He stood, with his arm stretched out toward the Temple. 
 All before me was tranquillity itself; night had suddenly 
 fallen deeper than usual; the stars had been wrapped in 
 clouds, that yet gathered without a wind; a faint tinge of 
 light from the staimit of Mount Moriah, the gleam of the 
 never-extinguished altar of the daily sacrifice, alone marked 
 the central court of the Temple. I turned from the almost 
 deathlike stillness of the scene, with a look of involuntary 
 
 S4 
 
Salatblel Conftonta tbe SbaDe ot Bntlocbus 
 
 disbelief, to the face of my fearful guide ; even in the deep ube SMinnins 
 darkness every feature of it was strangely visible. * ' 
 
 A low murmur from the city caught my ear ; it rapidly grew 
 loud, various, wild ; it was soon intermingled with the clash of 
 arms. Trumpets now rang; I recognized the charging shout 
 of the Eomaus ; I heard the tumultuous roar of my country- 
 men in return. The darkness was converted into light; 
 torches blazed along the battlements ; the Tower of Antonia, 
 bhe Roman citadel, with its massy bulwarks and immense al- 
 titude, rose from a tossing expanse of flame below like a co- 
 lossal funeral-pile ; I could see on its summit the alarm, the 
 rapid signals, the hasty snatching up of spear and shield, the 
 confusion of the garrison which that night's vengeance was 
 to offer up on the pile. The roar of battle rose, it deepened 
 into cries of agony, it swelled again into furious exulta- 
 tion 
 
 I thought of my countrymen butchered by some new caprice 
 of power ; of my kinsmen, perhaps at that instant involved in 
 the massacre ; of the city, every stone and beam of which was 
 dear to my embittered heart, given up to the vengeance of the 
 idolater ! The prediction of its ruin was in my ears, and I 
 longed to perish with my tribe. I panted with every shout 
 of the battle ; every new sheet of flame that rolled upward 
 from the burning houses fevered me ; I longed to rush into 
 the uproar with the speed of the whirlwind. But the ter- 
 rible hand was still upon my forehead, and I was feeble as a 
 broken reed. " Behold," said the possessed, " those are but 
 the beginnings of evil." I felt a sudden return of my 
 strength; I looked up; he was gonel 
 
 55 
 
CHAPTER DC 
 
 The Romans Driven from the Hoty CHy 
 
 B Scgje 0* I PLUNGED into the valley, and found it filled with fugi- 
 tives, incapable from terror of giving me any account of the 
 conflict. Women and children, hastily thrown on the mules 
 and camels, continued to pour through the country. The 
 road wound through hills, and tho sometimes approaching 
 near enough to the walls to be illuminated by the blaze of the 
 torches and beacons, yet, from its general darkness and intri- 
 cacy, I was left to make my way by the sounds of the strug- 
 gle. But I was quickly within reach of ample evidence of 
 what was doing in that night of havoc. The bend of the 
 road, from which the first view of the grand portico was seen, 
 had been the rallying-point for the multitude driven out by the 
 unexpected resistance of the garrison. The tide of fight had 
 thence ebbed and flowed, and I found the spot covered with 
 the dead and dying. In my haste, I fell over one of the 
 wounded; he groaned and prayed me for a cup of water. I 
 knew the voice of Jairus, one of the boldest of our mountain- 
 eers, and bore him to the hillside that he might not be tram- 
 pled by the crowd. He thanked me, and said : " If you be a 
 man of Israel, fly to Eleazar. Take this spear — another mo- 
 ment may be too late." I seized the spear and sprang for- 
 ward. 
 
 The multitude had repelled the Eomans and forced them up 
 the broad central street of the city. But a reenf orcement from 
 the Tower of Antonia had joined the troops, and were driv- 
 ing back the victors with ruinous disorder. I heard the war' 
 cries of the tribes as they called to the rescue, and the charge, 
 •'' Onward, Judah 1 » " Ho, for Zebulun ! » " Glory to Naph- 
 tali ! " I thought of the times of Jewish triumph, and saw 
 
 66 
 
tCbe "Romans BrCven Irom tbe Ibolg Gttg 
 
 before me the ■warriors of the Maccabees. Nerved with new Saiatwei 
 sensations, the strong instincts which make the war-horse *""* 
 paw the ground at the trumpet and make men rush headlong 
 upon death, heightened by the stinging recollections of our 
 days of freedom, I forced my path through the multitude 
 that tossed and whirled like the eddies of the ocean. I found 
 my kinsmen in front, battling desperately against the long 
 spears of a Eoman column, that, solid as iron, and favored 
 by the higher ground, was pressing down all before it. The 
 resistance was heroic, but unavailing ; and when I burst for- 
 ward, I found at my side nothing but faces dark with despair 
 or covered with wounds. In front was a wall of shields and 
 helmets, glaring ia the light of the conflagration that was 
 now rapidly spreading on all sides. The air was scorching, 
 the smoke rolling against us in huge volumes ; burning and 
 loss of blood were cousumiug the multitude. But what is 
 in the strength of the soldier or the bravery of discipline to 
 daunt the desperate energy of men fighting for their country 
 — and, above all men, of the Israelite, fighting in sight of the 
 profaned Temple? The native frame, exercised by the habits 
 of our temperate and agricultural life, was one of surpassing 
 muscular strength ; and man for man thrown naked into the 
 field, we could have torn the Eoman garrison into fragments 
 for the fowls of the air. But their arms, and the help which 
 they received from the nature of the ground, were too strong 
 for the assault of men fighting with no shield but their cloaks 
 and no arms but a pilgrim's staff or some weapon caught up 
 from a dead enemy. 
 
 Yet on me there came a wild impression that this night 
 was to make or unmake me ; an undefined feeling that iu the 
 shedding of my blood ia sight of the Temple there might be 
 some palliative, some washing away of my crime. I sprang 
 forward between the combatants and defied the boldest of the 
 legionaries; the battle paused for an instant, and my name 
 was shouted in exultation by ten thousand voices. A shower 
 of lances from the battlements was instantly poured upon me. 
 ; I felt myself wounded, but the feeling only roused me to 
 bolder daring. Tearing ofE my gory mantle, I lifted it on the 
 
 57 
 
Cartg Cbou ^tll H Come 
 
 ' Ttbe seatb ot poiat of my javelin, and, with the poniard in my right hand, 
 \rfbune devoted the Romans to ruin in the name of the Temple. 
 
 The enemy, in their native superstition, shrank from a 
 being -who looked the messenger of angry Heaven. The naked 
 figure, the blood streaming from my wounds, the wild and 
 mystic sound of my words, might have reminded them of the 
 diviners who had often terrorized their souls in their own 
 land. I burst into the circle of their spears, waving my 
 standard and calling on my nation to follow. I smote to the 
 right and left. The entrance that I had made in the iron bul- 
 wark was instantly fiUed by the multitude. All disciplia* 
 now gave way. The weight of the Eoman armor was ruiuous 
 to men grappled hand to hand by the light and sinewy agility 
 of the Jew. We rushed on, trampling down cuirass and 
 buckler, till we drove the enemy like sheep before us to the 
 first gate of the Tower of Antonia. Arrows, lances, stones, 
 in showers from the battlements, then could not stop the valor 
 of the people. We rushed on to assault the gate. Sabinus, 
 the tribune of the legion, rallied the remnant of the fugitives, 
 and under cover of the battlements made a last attempt to 
 change the fortunes of the night. Exhausted as I was, bruised 
 and bleeding, my feet and hands lacerated with the burning 
 ruius, my tongue cleaving to my mouth with deadly thirst, I 
 rushed upon him. He had been known to the Jews as a ty- 
 rant and plunderer for the many years of his command. No 
 trophy of the battle could have been so cheering to them as 
 his head. But he had the bravery of his country, and it was 
 now augmented by rage. The despair of being able to clear 
 himself before imperial jealousy for that night's disasters 
 must have made life worthless to him. He bounded on the 
 drawbridge at my cry. Our meeting was brief; my poniard 
 broke on his cuirass ; his falchion descended with a blow that 
 would have cloven a headpiece of steel. I sprang aside and 
 caught it on the shaft of my javelin standard, which it cut 
 clear in two. I returned the blow with the fragment. The 
 iron pierced his throat ; he flung up his hands, staggered back, 
 and dropped dead. The roar of Israel rent the heavens ! 
 Scarcely more alive than the trunk at my feet, I fell back 
 
 68 
 
^be l^omans Driven Irom tbe fbol's Cits 
 
 among the throng. But whatever may be the envy of courts, Eieajat 
 no injustice is done in the field. The successful leader is sure " P<^"« 
 of his reward from the gallant spirits that he has conducted 
 to victory. I was hailed with shouts — I was lifted on the 
 shoulders of the multitude; the men of Naphtali proudly 
 claimed me for their own, and when I clasped the hand of 
 my brave friend Jubal, whom I found in the foremost rank, 
 covered with dust and blood, he exclaimed: "Remember 
 Barak ; remember Mount Tabor ! " 
 
 I looked round in vain for one with whom I had parted 
 but a few days before, and without whom I scarcely dared 
 to meet Miriam. Her noble brother was not to be seen. 
 Had he fallen? Jubal understood my countenance, and 
 mournfully pointed to the citadel, which rose above us, 
 frowning down on our impotent rage. 
 
 "Eleazar is a prisoner?" I asked. 
 
 "There can be no hope for him from the hypocritical 
 clemency of those barbarians of Italy," was the answer; 
 "it was with him that the insurrection began. Some new 
 Roman insolence had commanded that our people should 
 offer a sacrifice to the image of the emperor — to the polluted, 
 bloodthirsty tyrant of Eome and mankind. Eleazar shrank 
 from this act of horror. The tribune, that dog of Rome, 
 whose tongue you have silenced — so may perish all the ene- 
 mies of the Holy City ! — commanded that our chieftain should 
 be scourged at the altar. The cords were round his arms ; 
 the spearmen were at his back ; they marched him through 
 the streets calling on all the Jews to look upon the punish- 
 ment that was equally reserved for all. Our indignation 
 burst forth in groans and prayers. I hastily gathered the 
 males of our tribe ; we snatched up what arms we could, and 
 were rushing to his rescue when we saw him sweeping the 
 guard before him. He had broken his bands by a desperate 
 -effort. We fell upon the pursuers. Blood was now drawn, 
 and we knew the vengeance of the Romans. To break up 
 and scatter through the country would have been only to give 
 our throats to their cavalry. Eleazar determined to anticipate 
 the attack. Messengers were sent round to the leaders of the 
 
Uacrs Sbou G^ill f Come 
 
 Vbe flDoment tribes, and the seizure of the Eoman fortress was resolved 
 of BiecuHon ^^ y^^ gathered at nightfall and drove in the outposts. 
 But the garrison was now roused. We were beaten down by 
 a storm of darts and javelins, and must have been undone 
 but for your appearance. In the first onset, Eleazar, while 
 cheering us to the charge, was struck by a stone from an en- 
 gine. I saw him fall among a circle of the enemy, and has- 
 tened to his rescue, but when I reached the spot he was 
 gone, and my last sight of him was at yonder gate, as he was 
 borne iu, waving his hand — his last farewell to Naphtali." 
 
 Deep silence followed his broken accents; he hung his 
 head on his hand, and the tears glistened through his fingers. 
 The circle of brave men round us wrapped their heads in their 
 mantles. I could not contain the bitterness of my soul. 
 Years had cemented my friendship for the virtuous and gen- 
 erous-hearted brother of my beloved. He had borne with 
 my waywardness — he had done all that man could do to 
 soften my heart, to enlighten my darkness, to awaken me to 
 a wisdom surpassing rubies. I lifted up my voice and wept. 
 The brazen blast of a trumpet from the battlements suddenly 
 raised all our eyes. Troops moved slowly along the walls of 
 the fortress ; they ascended the central tower. Their ranks 
 opened, and in the midst was seen by the torch -light a man 
 of Israel. They had brought him to that place of exposure, 
 in the double cruelty of increasing his torture and ours by 
 death in the presence of the people. A universal groan burst 
 from below. He felt it, and meekly pointed with his hand 
 to that Heaven where no tortures shall disturb the peace of 
 the departed. The startling sound of the trumpet stung the 
 ear again — it was the signal for execution. I saw the archer 
 advance to take aim at him. He drew the shaft. Almost 
 unconsciously I seized a sling from the hands of one of our 
 tribe. I whirled it. The archer dropped dead, with the 
 arrow still on his bow. 
 
 To those who had not seen the cause, the effect was almost 
 a miracle. The air pealed with acclamation; a thousand 
 slings instantly swept the escort from the battlements ; the 
 walls were left naked — ladders were raised — ropes were slung 
 
 60 
 
Cbe IRomans Striven from tbe tbol^ Cits 
 
 — axes were brandished; f/he activity of our hunters and Zbe iReecue of 
 mountaineers availed itself of every crevice aud projection of ^^' 
 the walls; they climbed on each other's shoulders; they leaped 
 from point to point, where the antelope could have scarcely 
 found footing ; they ran over narrow and fenced walls and 
 curtains, where, in open daylight and with his senses awake 
 to the danger, no man could have moved. Torches without 
 number now showered upon all that was combustible. At 
 length, the central tower took fire. We fought no longer in 
 darkness ; the flames rolled sheet on sheet above our heads, 
 throwing light over the whole horizon. We were soon in no 
 want of help ; the tribes poured in at the sight of the confla- 
 gration, and no valor could resist their enthusiasm. Some 
 cried out that they saw beings mightier than man descending 
 to fight the battle of the favored nation ; some that the ciay 
 of Joshua had returned, and that a light of more than earthly 
 luster was visible in the burning! But the battle was no 
 longer doubtful. The Romans, reduced in number by the 
 struggle in the streets, exhausted by the last attack, and 
 aware, from the destruction of their magazines, that their most 
 successful resistance must be ended by famine, called out for 
 terms. I had but one answer — "The life of Eleazar." " The 
 drawbridge fell and he appeared — the next moment he was in 
 my arms ! 
 
 The garrison marched out. I restrained the violence of 
 their conquerors, irritated by the memory of years of insult. 
 Not a hair of a Eoman head was touched. They were led 
 down to the vaUey of Kedron, where they were disarmed, and 
 thence sent without delay under a safeguard to their country- 
 men in Idumea. In one night the Holy City was cleared of 
 every foot of the idolater. 
 
 ei 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 The Fatt of Onias 
 
 flftcr tbe While the people Tvere in a state of tlie wildest triumpli, 
 Conflict ^j^g j^y. q£ tjieir leaders was tempered by many formidable 
 reflections. The power of the enemy was still unshaken; 
 the surprise of a single garrison, tho a distinguished evidence 
 of what might be done by native valor, was trivial on the 
 scale of a war that must be conducted against the mistress 
 of the civilized world. The policy of Eome was known ; she 
 never gave up a conquest while it could be retained by the 
 most lavish and persevering expenditure of her strength. Her 
 treasury would be stripped of every talent, and Italy left 
 without a soldier, before she would surrender the most fruit- 
 less spot, an acre of sand or a poiut of rock in Judea. 
 
 I went forth, but not among the leaders nor among the 
 people ; I turned away equally from the council and the tri- 
 umph. A deeper feeling urged me to wander round those 
 courts where my spirit had so often turned in my exile. The 
 battle had reached even there, and the pollution of blood was 
 on the consecrated ground. The Roman soldiers, in their ad- 
 vance, had driven the people to take refuge in the cloisters of 
 the Temple, and the dead lying thickly among the columns 
 showed how fierce even that brief and partial struggle had 
 been. With a torch in my hand, I trod through those heaps 
 of what once was man to have one parting look at the scena 
 where I had passed so many blameless hours. I stood before 
 the porch of my own cloister, almost listening for the sound 
 of the familiar voices within. The long interval of time was 
 compressed iuto an instant. 
 
 I awoke from this reverie with something like scorn at the 
 idleness of human fancy, and struck open the door. There 
 was no answer; but the bolts, loosened by time, gave way, 
 
Zbe jfall of ®nia0 
 
 and I was again the master of my mansion. It had been un- ube tRetutti 
 inhabited since my flight ; why, I could not conceive. But as of laiatbie! 
 I passed from room to room I found them all as if they had 
 been left but the hour before. The embroidery, which Miriam 
 wrought with a skill distinguished even among the daughters 
 of the Temple, was still fixed in its frame before the silken 
 couch ; there lay the harp that relieved her hours of graceful 
 toil ; the tissued sandals were waiting for the delicate feet ; 
 the veil, the vermilion mantle that designated her rank, the 
 tabor, the armlets and necklaces of precious stones, still hung 
 upon the tripods, untouched by the spoHer. There was but 
 one evidence of time among them — but that bore its bitter 
 moral. It was the dust that himg heavy upon the curtains 
 of precious needlework and chilled the richness of the Tyriaa 
 purple — decay, that teacher without a tongue, the lonely em- 
 blem of what the bustle of mankind must come to at last ; the 
 dull memorial of the proud, the beautiful, the brave ! All was 
 the silence of the tomb ! With the torch in my hand, throw- 
 ing its red reflection on the walls and remembrances round me, 
 I sat, like the m iimmy of an Egyptian king ia the sepulcher — 
 in the midst of the things that I had loved, yet forever di- 
 vorced from them by an irresistible law ! 
 
 I impatiently broke forth into the open air. The stars 
 were waning ; a gray streak of dawn was whitening the sum- 
 mit of the Mount of Olives. As I passed by Herod's palace 
 and lifted my eyes in wonder at the unusual sight of a group 
 of Jews keeping watch, where but the day before the Roman 
 governor lorded it and none but the Roman soldier durst 
 stand, I saw Jubal hurrying out and making signs to me 
 through the crowd, from the esplanade above. I was instant- 
 ly recognized, and all made way for my ascent up those gor- 
 geous and almost countless steps of porphyry that formed 
 one of the wonders of Jerusalem. 
 
 " We have been in alarm about you," said he hastily ; " but 
 come to the council; we have wasted half the night in per- 
 plexing ourselves. Some are timid, and call out for submis- 
 sion on any terms; some are rash, and would plunge us 
 unprepared into the Roman camps. There are obviously 
 
 63 
 
CartB c:bou ttdl H Come 
 
 H ipast many who without regard for the hope of freedom or the holi 
 
 Bssemblage 
 
 ness of our cause, look upon the crisis only as a means of per- 
 sonal aggrandizement. And lastly, we are not without our 
 traitors, who confound all opinions and who are making 
 work for Eoman gold and iron. Your voice will decide. 
 Speak at once, and speak our mind ; your kinsmen wiH sup- 
 port it with their liTes." 
 
 The council was held in the amphitheater of the palace. 
 The heads of families and principal men of the people had 
 crowded into it until the council, instead of the privacy of 
 a few chieftains, assumed the look of a great popular assembly. 
 Tens of thousands had forced themselves into the seats ; every 
 bosom responding to every accent of the orator, a mighty in- 
 strument vibrating through all its strings to the master's hand. 
 Accustomed as I was, by the festivals of our nation, to the 
 sight of great bodies of men swayed by a common impulse, I 
 stopped in astonishment at the entrance of the colossal cir- 
 cle. Three-fourths of it was almost totally dark, giving a 
 shadowy intimation of human beings by the light of a few 
 scattered torches, or the feeble dawn that rounded the ex- 
 treme height with a ring of pale and moon-like rays. But 
 in the center of the arena a fire blazed, and showed the lead- 
 ers of the deliberation seated in the splendid chairs once 
 assigned to the Eoman governors and legionary tribunes. 
 Eleazar filled the temporary throne. 
 
 The chief man of the land of Ephraim was haranguing the 
 assembly as I entered. " Go to war with Rome ! " " pro- 
 nounced he ; " you might as well go to war with the ocean, 
 for her power is as wide ; you might as well fight the storm, 
 for her vengeance is as rapid ; you might as well call up the 
 armies of Judea against the pestilence, for her siword is as 
 sweeping, as sudden, and as sure. Who but madmen would 
 go to war without allies? and where are yours to be looked 
 for? Eome is the mistress of all nations. Would you make 
 a war of fortresses? Eome has in her possession all your 
 walled towns. Every tower from Dan to Beersheba has a 
 Eoman banner on its battlements. Would you meet her in 
 the plain? Where are your horsemen? The Eoman cavalry 
 
 Hi 
 
Copjrifht, lyijl, by I'utjk ^ V\ agnails ('onipany, N. Y. an.] Lonilon. 
 
 The archer dropped dead, with .he arrow still on his bow. 
 
 See page 60. 
 
{Tbe jFall ot Ontas 
 
 would be upon you before you could dra-w your STTords, and «be snasew 
 would trample you into the sand. Would you make the cam- "* ^'""* 
 paign in the mountains? The Roman generals would disdain 
 to -waste a drop of blood upon you; they would only have 
 to block up the passes and leave famine to do the rest. Har- 
 vest is not come, and if it were, you dare not descend to the 
 plains to gather it. You are told to rely upon the strength 
 of the country. Have the fiery sands of the desert, or the 
 marshes of Germany, or the snows of Scythia, or the stormy 
 waters of Britain defended them ? Does Egypt, within your 
 sight, give you no example? A land of inexhaustible fer- 
 tility, crowded with seven millions of men passionately de- 
 voted to their country, opulent, brave, and sustained by the 
 countless millions of Africa, with a country defended on both 
 flanks by the wilderness, in the rear inaccessible to the 
 Eoman, exposing the narrowest and most defensible front of 
 any nation on earth ; yet Egypt, in spite of the Libyan valor 
 and the Greek genius, is garrisoned at this hour by a single 
 Eoman legion! The Eoman bird grasping the thunder in 
 its talons, and touching with one wing the sunrise and with 
 the other the sunset, throws its shadow over the world. 
 Shall we call it to stoop upon us? Must we spread for it the 
 new banquet of the blood of Israel? " 
 
 How different is the power of speech upon men sitting in 
 the common, peaceful circumstances of public assemblage, 
 from its tyranny over minds anxious about their own fates ! 
 All that I had ever seen of public excitement was stone and 
 ice to the burning interest that hung upon every word of the 
 orator. The name of Onias was famous in Judea, but I now 
 saw him for the first time. His had been a life of ambition, 
 compassed often by desperate means, and wo be to the man 
 who stood between him and his object. By the dagger and 
 by subserviency to the Eoman procurators he had risen to the 
 highest rank below the throne. In the distractions of a time 
 which broke off the regular succession of the sons of Aaron, 
 Onias had even been High Priest ; but Eleazar, heading the 
 popular indignation, had expelled him from the Temple after 
 one month of troubted supremacy. I could read his history 
 
 S 65 
 
ZnwQ Ubou c;«l 11 Come 
 
 Vie Influence in the hauglity fig^e and daring yet wily visage that stood 
 in bold relief before the central flame. But to the assem- 
 blage his declamation had infinite power ; they listened as to 
 the words of life and death ; they had come, not to delight 
 their ears with showy periods, but to hear what they must 
 do to escape that inexorable fury which might within a few 
 days or hours be let loose upon every iudividual head. All 
 was alternately the deepest s2ence and the most tumultuous 
 agitation. At his strong appeals they writhed their athletic 
 forms, they gnashed their teeth, they tore their hair; some 
 crouched to the ground with their faces buried in their hands, 
 as if shuttiag out the coming horrors ; some started upright, 
 brandishing their rude weapons and tossing their naked 
 limbs in gestures of defiance; some sat bending down and 
 throwing back their long locks, that not a syllable might es- 
 cape; others knelt, with their quivering hands clasped and 
 their pallid countenances turned up in agony of prayer. 
 Many had been wounded, and their foreheads and limbs, 
 hastily bound up, were still stained with gore. Turbans and 
 robes, rent and discolored with dust and burning, were on 
 every side, and the whole immense multitude bore the look of 
 men who had but just struggled out of some great calamity 
 to find themselves on the verge of one still more irremediable. 
 The orator found that his impression was made, and he 
 hastened to the close. For this he reserved the sting. " If 
 it be the desire of those who seek the downfall of Judah that 
 we should go to war, let it be the first wisdom of those who 
 seek its safety to disappoint, to defy, and to denounce them." 
 The words were followed by a visible movement among the 
 hearers. " Let an embassy be instantly sent to the proconsul," 
 said he, "lamenting the excesses of the night and offering 
 hostages for peace." The silence grew breathless ; the orator, 
 wrapped in his robe, and bending his head, like a tiger 
 crouching, waited for the work of the passions ; then sudden- 
 ly starting up and fixing his stormy gaze full on Eleazar, 
 thundered out: "And at the head of those hostages, let the 
 incendiary who caused this night's havoc be sent, and sent 
 in chains I " 
 
Zbc ffall of Oniad 
 
 The words were received with fierce applause by the assem- saUtMei 
 blage, and crowds rushed iato the arena to enforce them by ""* "'^''^ ' 
 the seizure of Eleazar. I glanced at him ; his life hung by a 
 hair, but not a feature of his noble countenance was disturbed. 
 I sprang upon the pavement at the foot of the throne ; every 
 moment was precious; the multitude were raging with the 
 fury of wild beasts. My voice was at length heard ; the name 
 of Salathiel had become powerful, and the tumult partially 
 subsided. My words were few, but they came from the heart. 
 I asked them, was it to be thought of that they should deliver 
 up men of their own nation, of their purest blood, the last 
 scions of the noblest families of Israel, into the hands of the 
 idolater ! And for what crime? For an act which every true 
 Israelite would glory to have done : for rescuing the altar of 
 the living God from pollution. I bade them beware of dip- 
 ping their hands in righteous blood, for the gratification of a 
 revenge that had for twenty years poisoned the breast of a 
 hoary traitor to his priesthood and his country. There was 
 a dead silence. I continued: 
 
 " We are threatened with the irresistible power of Eome. 
 Are we to forget that Rome is at this moment torn with in- 
 ternal miseries, her provinces in revolt, her senate decimated, 
 her citizens turned into a mass of jailers and prisoners, and, 
 darkest sign of degradation, that Nero is upon her throne? " 
 The multitude began to be moved. 
 
 "Whom," said I, "have we conquered this night? A 
 Eoman garrison. Where have we conquered them? In the 
 midst of their walls and machines. By whom was the con- 
 quest achieved? By the xinarmed, undisciplined, unguided 
 men of Israel. The shepherd and the tLUer of the ground, 
 with but the staff and sling, smote the cuirassed Eoman, as 
 the son of Jesse smote the Philistine ! " 
 
 The native bravery of the people lived again, and they 
 shouted, in the language of the Temple : " Glory to the King 
 of Israel! Glory to the God of David!" 
 
 Onias saw the tide turning, and started from his seat to 
 address the assembly ; but he was overpowered with outcries 
 of anger. Furious at the loss of his fame and his revenge, he 
 
 67 
 
catrs ^bou tlill f dome 
 
 Hon of Mat rushed through the arena toward the spot where I stood. 
 Jubal, ever gallant and watchful, bounded to my side, and 
 seizing the traitor's hand in the act of unsheathing a dagger, 
 wrested the weapon from him, and was ready to plunge it 
 in his heart at a sign from me. Eleazar's sonorous voice was 
 then first heard. "Let no violence be done upon that slave 
 of his passions. No Jewish blood must stain our holy cause. 
 Return, Onias, to your tribe, and give the rest of your days to 
 repentance." Jubal cast the baffted homicide from his grasp 
 far into the crowd. 
 
 The universal echo now was " war ! " " Euin to the idolater. 
 War for the Temple." "War," I exclaimed, "is wisdom, 
 honor, security. Let us bow our necks again, and we shall 
 be rewarded by the ax. The Romans never forgive until 
 the brave man who resists is either a slave or a corpse; the 
 work of this night has put us beyond pardon, and our only 
 hope is in arms, the appeal to that sovereign justice before 
 which nothing is strong but virtue, truth, and patriotism. 
 War is inevitable." 
 
 My words, few as they were, rekindled the chilled ardor 
 of the national heart. They were followed by shouts for 
 instant battle. " War against the world ! liberty to Israel ! " 
 Some voices began a hymn ; the habits of the people prepared 
 them for this powerful mode of expressing their sympathies. 
 The whole assembly spontaneously stood up and joined in 
 the hymn. The magnificent invocation of David, " Let G-od 
 arise, and let his enemies be scattered," ascended in solemn 
 harmonies on the wings of the morning. It was heard over 
 the awaking city, and answered; the chant of glory spread to 
 the encampments on the surroundiug hills, and in every pause 
 we heard the responses rolliag on the air in rich thunder. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 The Strength of Jadea 
 
 The result of our deliberation was that Israel should be ttbe Spirit 
 summoned to make a last grand effort ; that Jerusalem should 
 be left with a strong garrison, as the center of the armies ; and 
 that every chieftain should set forth to stir up the energies 
 of his people. 
 
 Eleazar and his kinsmen were instajatlyupon the road to the 
 mountains, and all was haste and that mixture of anxiety 
 and animation which makes all other life tasteless and color- 
 less to the warrior. With what new vividness did the coming 
 conflict invest the varied and romantic country through which 
 we had already journeyed so often ! The hill, the ravine, the 
 superb sweep of forest that we once looked on with but the 
 vague indulgence of the picturesque eye, now filled us with 
 the vision of camps and battles. Hunters of the lion, we had 
 felt something of this interest in tracing the ground where 
 we were to combat the kingly savage. But what were the 
 triumphs of the chase to the mighty chances of that struggle 
 in which a kingdom was to be the field and the Roman glory 
 the prey! 
 
 Man is belligerent by nature, and the thought of war sum- 
 mons up sensations and even faculties within him that in 
 the common course of life would have been no more discover- 
 able than the bottom of the sea ; the moral earthquake must 
 come to open the heart for all men to gaze upon. Even 
 Eleazar's calm and grave wisdom felt the spirit of the time, 
 and he reasoned on the probabilities of the straggle with the 
 lofty ardor of a king preparing to win a new throne. Jubal's 
 sanguine temper was unrestrainable ; he was the war-horse in 
 the sight of the banners ; his bronzed cheek glowed with hope 
 and exultation. He saw in every cloud of dust a Roman 
 
 69 
 
Uacrs ^bou {Till IT Come 
 
 ^utbiei squadron, and grasped his lance and wheeled his foaming 
 charger with the eager joy of a soldier longing to assuage his 
 thirst for battle. 
 
 The weight on my melancholy mind was beyond the power 
 of chance or time to remove, but a new strength was in the 
 crisis. The world to me was covered with clouds eternal, but 
 it was now brightened by a wild and keen luster ; I saw my 
 way by the lightning. An irresistible conviction stUl told 
 me that the last day of Israel was approaching, and that no 
 sacrifice of valor or victory could avert the ruin. In the 
 midst of the loudest exhilaration of the fearless hearts around 
 me, the picture of the coming ruin would grow upon my eyes." 
 I saw my generous friends perish one by one ; my household 
 desolate ; every name that I ever loved passed away. When I 
 bent my eyes round the horizon luxuriating in the golden sun- 
 shine of the east, I saw but a huge altar, covered with the 
 fatal offerings of a slaughtered people. 
 
 And this was seen, not with the misty uncertainty of a 
 mind prone to dreams of evil, but with a clearness of fore- 
 sight, a distinct and defined reality, that left no room for con- 
 jecture. Yet — and here was the bitterest part of Efiy medita- 
 tion — what was all this ruin to me? What were those men 
 and women and households and lands but as the leaves on 
 the wind to me! I might strive in the last extremities of 
 their struggle. I might undergo the agonies of death with 
 them a thousand times ; and I inwardly pledged myself never 
 to desert their cause while through pain or sorrow I could 
 cling to it ; but this devotion, however protracted, must have 
 an end. I must see the final hour of them all, and more un- 
 happy, more destitute, more undone than all, I must be de- 
 prived of the consolation of making my tomb with the right- 
 eous and laying my weary heart in the slumbers of their grave ! 
 Still, I experienced more than the keenest fervor of the im- 
 pulse which was now burning around me. With me it was 
 not kingly care, nor the animal ardency of the soldier. It 
 was the high stimulation of something like the infusion of 
 a new principle of existence. I felt as if I had become the 
 vehicle of a descended spirit, A ceaseless current of thought 
 
 70 
 
Zbc Sttcngtb ot Juoea 
 
 ran through my brain. Old knowledge that I had utterly Ube ADemoro 
 forgotten revived in me with spontaneous freshness. Casual °* '"^ ^^ 
 impressions and long past years arose, with their stamps and 
 marks as clear as if a hoard of medals had been suddenly 
 brought to light and thrown before me. I ran over in my 
 recollection persons and names with painful accuracy. The 
 conceptions of those for whom I once felt habitual deference 
 were now seen by me in their nakedness. All that was habit- 
 ual was passed away ; I saw intuitively the vanity and giddi- 
 ness, the inconsequential reasoning, the bewildering prejudice, 
 that made up what in other days I had called the wisdom of 
 the wise. 
 
 As I threw out in the most unpremeditated language the 
 ideas thus glowing and struggling for escape, I found that the 
 impression of some extraordinary excitement in me was uni- 
 versal. Accustomed to be heard with the attention due to my 
 rank, I now saw the eyes of my fellow travelers turned on 
 me with an evident and deferential surprise. When I talked 
 of the hopes of the country, of the resources of the enemy, of 
 the kingdoms that would be ready to make common cause with 
 us against the galling tyranny of Nero, of the glory of fight- 
 ing for our altars, and of the imperishable honors of those 
 whose blood earned peace for their children, they listened as 
 to something more than man. " Was I the prophet delegated 
 at last to lead Judea to her glory? " 
 
 At those discourses, bursting from my lips with unconscious 
 fire, the old men would vow the remnant of their days to the 
 field ; the young would sweep over the country performing the 
 evolutions of the Eoman cavalry, then return brandishing their 
 weapons and demanding to be let loose on the first cohort 
 that crossed the horizon. With me every pulse now was war. 
 The interest which this new direction of our minds gave to all 
 things grew more intense. I spurred to the barren heath; 
 it had now no deformity, for upon it I saw the spot from which 
 battle might be offered to an army advancing through the 
 valley below. The marsh that spread its yellow stagnation 
 over the plain might be worth a province for the protection 
 of my camp. The thicket, the broken bank of the torrent, 
 
 71 
 
tIatrB ZbovL ^IH H Gome 
 
 'ttbeuansof the bluff promontory, the rock, the sand, every repellent 
 feature of the landscape was invested with the value of a 
 thing of life and death, a portion of the great stake in the 
 game that was so soon to be played for restoration or ruin. 
 
 Those are the delights of soldiership, the indescribable and 
 brilliant colorings which the sense of danger, the desire for 
 fame, and the hope of triumph throw over life and nature. 
 Yet, if war was ever to be forgiven for its cause, to be justified 
 by the high remembrances and desperate injuries of a people, 
 or to be encouraged by the physical strength of a country, it 
 was this, the final war of Israel. In all my wanderings I 
 have seen no kingdom, for defense, equal to Judea." It had 
 in the highest degree the three grand essentials, compactness 
 of territory, density of population, and strength of frontier. 
 If I were at this hour to be sent forth to select from the 
 earth a kingdom, I should say, even extinguishing the recol- 
 lections of my being and the love which I bear to the very 
 weeds of my countiy — for beauty, for climate, for natural 
 wealth, and for invincible security, give me Judea ! 
 
 The Land of Promise had been chosen by the Supreme 
 "Wisdom for the inheritance of a people destined to be uncon- 
 querable while they continued pure. It was surrounded on 
 all sides but one by mountains and deserts, and that one was 
 defended by the sea, which at the same time opened to it the 
 intercourse with the richest countries of the west. On the 
 north, opposed to the vast population of Asia Minor, it was 
 protected by the double range of the Libanus and Antilibanus, 
 a region of forests and defiles at all seasons almost impassable 
 to chariots and cavalry, and during winter barred up with 
 torrents and snows. The whole frontier to the east and south 
 was a wall of mountain rising from a desert — a durable barrier 
 over which no enemy, exhausted by the privations of an 
 Asiatic march, could force their way against a brave army 
 waiting fresh within its own confines. But even if the Syrian 
 wastes of sand and the fiery soil of Arabia left the invaders 
 strength to master the mountain defenses, the whole interior 
 was full of the finest positions for defense that ever caught 
 the soldier's eye 
 
 72 
 
Cbe Sttcngtb of Juoca 
 
 All the mountains sent branches through the champaign, ube prcpsras 
 As we spurred up the sides of Carmel, we saw an horizon ""•'■^ f"' 't'*^" 
 coTered with cloud-like hills Every city was built on an 
 eminence and capable of being instantly converted into a for- 
 tress. But while an army kept the field, the larger opera- 
 tions of strategy would have found matchless support in the 
 course of the Jordan, the second defense of Judea; a line 
 passing through the whole central country from north to south, 
 with the lake of Tiberias and the lake Asphaltites at either 
 extreme, at once defending and supplying the movements in 
 front, flank, and rear. 
 
 The territory thus defensible had an additional and superior 
 strength in the character and habits of its population. In a 
 space of two hundred miles long by a hundred broad, its in- 
 habitants once amounted to nearly four millions, tillers of the 
 soil, bold tribes, invigorated by their life of industry and 
 connected with one another by the most intimate and frequent 
 intercourse, under the divine command. By the law of Moses 
 — may he rest in glory ! — every man from twenty to sixty was 
 liable to be called on for the general defense ; and the custom- 
 ary armament of the tribes was appoiuted at six hundred 
 thousand men ! 
 
 The munitions of war were in abundance. All the varieties 
 of troops known ia the ancient armies were to be found in 
 Judea, in the highest discipline ; from the spearsman to the 
 archer and the slinger, from the heavy-armed soldier of the 
 fortress to the ranger of the desert and the mountain. Cavalry 
 was prohibited, for the great purpose of the Jewish arma- 
 ment was defense. The spirit of the Jewish code was peace. 
 By the prohibition of cavalry, no conquests could be made on 
 the bordering kingdoms of interminable plains. The com- 
 mand that the males of the tribes should go up thrice iu the 
 year to the great festivals of Jerusalem was equally opposed 
 to the encroachments on the neighboring states. It was not 
 until Israel had abandoned the purity of the original covenant 
 with Heaven that the evils of ambition or tyranny were felt 
 within her borders, 
 
 Israel's whole policy was imder a divine sanction, and her 
 
 TO 
 
CartB tCbou TTill IT Come 
 
 ' Cbe Effect of ■whole preservatiou was distinguished by the perpetual agency 
 ■Kssistance of miracle, for the obvious purpose of compelling the people 
 to know the G-od of their fathers. But the physical strength 
 of such a people in. such a territory was iucalculable. Sever- 
 ity of climate will not ultimately repel an iavader, for that 
 severity scatters and exhausts the native population. Diffi- 
 culties of country have always been overcome by a daring in- 
 vader ia the attack of a feeble or negligent people. To what 
 nation were their snows, their marshes, or their sands a bar- 
 rier against the great armies of the ancient or the modem 
 world? The Alps and the Pyrenees have been passed as 
 often as they have been attempted. But no empire can con- 
 quer a nation of millions of men determined to resist; no 
 army that could be thrown across the frontier would find the 
 means of penetrating through a compact population, of which 
 every man was a soldier and every soldier was fighting for 
 his own. 
 
 The Jew was, by his law, a free proprietor of the soU." 
 He was no serf, no broken vassal. He inherited his portion 
 of the land by an irrevocable title. Debt, misfortune, or time 
 could not extinguish his right. Capable of being alienated from 
 him for a few years, the land was returned to him at the Jubi- 
 lee. He was then once more a possessor, the master of a com- 
 petence, and restored to his rank amongst his fellow men. 
 This bond, the most benevolent and the strongest that ever 
 bound man to a country, was the bond of the Covenant. If 
 Israel had held the institutions of her lawgiver inviolate, she 
 would have seen the Assyrian, the Egyptian, and the Roman, 
 with all their multitudes, only food for the vulture. But we 
 were a rebellious people ; we sullied the purity of the Mosaic 
 ordinances; we abandoned the sublime ceremonial of divine 
 worship for the profligate rites of paganism ; we rejected the 
 Lord of the theocracy for the pomps of an earthly king. 
 Then the mighty protection that had been to us as an eagle's 
 wings and as a wall of fire was withdrawn. Our first punish- 
 ment was by our own hand ; the union of Israel was a band of 
 flax in the flame. The tribes revolted. The time was come 
 for the hostile idolater to do his work. We were overwhelmed 
 
 74 
 
Hbe StTcngtb of Judea 
 
 by enemies in alliance with our own blood. The banners of Ube uans of 
 Jacob were seen waving beside the banners of Ashtaroth and "' '" 
 Apis. An opening was made into the bosom of the land for 
 all invasion ; the barriers of the mountain and the desert were 
 in vain ; the proverbial bravery of the Jew only rendered his 
 chain more severe; and the policy that of old united the 
 highest wisdom with the most benevolent mercy became at 
 once the scoff and problem of the pagan world. 
 
 But opulence, salubrity, and luxuriance of production be- 
 longed to the site of the land of Israel. It lay central be- 
 tween the richest regions of the world. It was the natural 
 road of the traffic of India with the west ; that traffic which 
 raised Tyre and Sidon from rocks and shallows on a fragment 
 of the shore of Judea into magnificent cities, and which 
 was yet to raise iuto political power and unrivaled wealth 
 the rocks and shallows of the remotest shore of the Mediter- 
 ranean. Our mountain ranges tempered the hot winds from 
 the wilderness. The sea cooled the summer heats with the 
 living breeze, and tempered the chill of winter. Our fields 
 teemed with perpetual fruits and flowers. 
 
 The extent of the land, tho narrow, when contrasted 
 with the surrounding kingdoms, was yet not to be measured 
 by its lineal boundaries ; " a country intersected everywhere 
 by chains of hills capable of cultivation to the summit, alike 
 multiplies its surface and varies its climate. We had at 
 the foot of the hill the products of the torrid zone; on 
 its side those of the temperate; on its summit the robust 
 vegetation of the north. The ascending circles of the orange- 
 grove, the vineyard, and the forest covered it with perpetual 
 beauty. 
 
 This scene of matchless productiveness is fair and fertile no 
 more. For ages before my eyes opened on the land of my 
 fathers the national misfortunes had impaired its original 
 loveliness. The schism of the tribes, the ravages of successive 
 invaders, and still more, the continued presence of the idolater 
 and the alien in the heart of the land, turned large portions of 
 it into desert. The final fall almost destroyed the traces of 
 its fruitfulness. What can be demanded from the soil lorded 
 
 75 
 
JlarrB Cbou ttUl H Come 
 
 •Boibat mtgbt over by the tyranny of the Moslem, stripped of its population, 
 and given up to the mendicant, the monk, and the robber? 
 
 But more than human evil smote my unhappy country. 
 The curse pronounced by our great prophet three thousand 
 years ago has been deeply fulfilled. " The stranger that shall 
 come from a far land shall say, when he beholdeth the plagues 
 of the land, and the sickness that the Lord hath laid upon it, 
 the land of brimstone and salt and burniug, even all nations 
 shall say, Wherefore hath the Lord done this unto this 
 land? What meaneth the heat of this great anger? Then 
 men shall say. Because they have forsaken the covenant of 
 the Lord God of their fathers ! " 
 
 The soil has been blasted. Sterility has struck into its 
 heart. Whole provinces are covered with sands and ashes. 
 It has the look of an exhausted volcano. 
 
 Yet, what might have been the progress of this people! 
 The glory of Israel is no fine vision of the fancy. The same 
 prophetic word which has given terrible demonstration of its 
 reality in our ruin declares the hope once held forth to our 
 obedience. Judea was to have borne the first rank among na- 
 tions; to have been an object of universal honor; to have 
 been unconquerable; to have enjoyed unwearied fertility; to 
 have been protected from the casualties of the elements ; to 
 have been free from disease, the life of its people continuing 
 to the farthest limit of our nature. A blessing was to be 
 upon the labors, the possessions, and the persons of the tribes ; 
 all Israel a holy nation in the highest sense of the word — a 
 sovereign race to which the world should pay a willing and 
 happy homage. 
 
 What must have been the operation of this illustrious in- 
 stance of the preservative power of Heaven on the darkened 
 empires; of the scriptural lights perpetually beaming from 
 Judea ; of the living, palpable happiness and obedience to the 
 Supreme ; of the perpetual security of the land in the divine 
 protection; of the internal peace, health, plenteousness, and 
 freedom? Man is weak and passionate, but no blindness could 
 have hid from his contemplations this proof of the human 
 value of virtue. 
 
 76 
 
Zbe Strengtb of 5u&ea 
 
 We must add to this the direct iniiuence of a governing Ube Unfiuence 
 people, placed in its rank for the express purpose of a guide * " "" 
 to nations. Combining the knowledge and devotedness of a 
 priesthood with the actual power and dignity of kings; by 
 its own constitution as safe from all encroachments as pro- 
 hibited from all aggression ; informed by the immediate wis- 
 dom and sustained by the visible arm of Omnipotence, Judea 
 might have changed the earth into a paradise, and raised uni- 
 versal man to the highest happiness, knowledge, and grandeur 
 of human nature ! 
 
CHAPTER Xn 
 Ihe 'Prince of cNjipfitali Confronts Vcsotaiion 
 
 ttb« Ctofcc of Wae was now inevitable. Attempts had been made by our 
 rulers to propitiate the Koman emperor, but their answer was 
 the march of a legion to Jerusalem. The seizure of some of 
 the people who had made themselves conspicuous in the late 
 capture of the citadel followed, and an order was despatched 
 to the governor of Galilee for the execution of Eleazar. His 
 tribe instantly assembled and all voices were for resistance. 
 My noble kinsman, still pacific, offered himself as the victim. 
 But this generous sacrifice we all denounced, and called for 
 war. The appointment of a leader was next debated in a 
 hurried assemblage, to which every head of a village came in 
 arms. No man could contest the command with Eleazar. 
 But he declined it from a sense of his inexperience in war in 
 a few simple words. 
 
 Then, suddenly bursting into ardor, he exclaimed: "Our 
 war is holy ! It is not to be hazarded on the claims of hered- 
 itary rank, personal freedom, or even on national favoritism. 
 The only claims which the nation must acknowledge in its 
 extremity are the rights of tried talent, experienced intrepid- 
 ity, and unquestionable service. Such a leader stands among 
 us at this moment. " Every eye was turned upon me. " Yes, " 
 exclaimed my noble kinsman, " you have already made your 
 choice. Genius, valor, and success have combined to mark 
 one man for the leader of Israel. He is worthy of the dia- 
 dem." Then turning to me and lifting his hand, as if he was 
 letting fall the diadem upon my head, "Go forth," cried he 
 in a tone of almost prophetic grandeur, " Go forth, prince of 
 Naphtali, leader of Israel, to break the chains of Judah and 
 conquer in the cause of man and Heaven ! " The words were 
 received with acclamation. 
 
Zbe l^cince of mapbtaU Contconts 2>esoIation 
 
 I vainly protested against the general voice, that I was a satatbiei «e= 
 priest of the Temple of the house of Aaron, of the tribe of "•"*"" ''*^^ 
 Levi, and bound to Naphtali only by ties of kiadred and 
 gratitude. I was answered by a multitude of voices that my 
 summons was actually in the service of the Temple ; that war 
 extiaguished all office but that of defending the country; that 
 I had long retired from the duties of the priesthood; that 
 Moses was at once the priest and the leader ; that Samuel was 
 at once the prophet and the sovereign of Israel ; above all, 
 that I had shown myself, by daring and success, almost superior 
 to man, the Heaven-elected leader of Israel. 
 
 I acknowledged that my heart was with the answerers, and 
 I at length gave way to what even I believed to be the will 
 of more than man. A thousand falchions, wielded by as 
 sinewy hands as ever drew sword, were instantly moved round 
 my head. I was placed on a shield, and in this ancient fashion 
 of our countrymen I was inaugurated prince of Naphtali. 
 This was one of the blinding flashes that broke in from time 
 to time on my gloomy career. When the assemblage dis- 
 persed and I returned toward my mountain home, I was still 
 in the excitement of the scene. I even began to imagine that 
 my terrible sentence was about to be lightened, perhaps to 
 pass away ; my station in life was now fixed ; services of the 
 highest rank in the noblest cause were before me, and I felt 
 myself exclaiming, even to the solitude, "I am prince of 
 Naphtali ! " " My exultation was soon to have a fall. 
 
 It was the evening of one of the freshest days of the love- 
 liest season of earth, the spring of Palestine. All nature was 
 clothed with its robe of genial beauty ; the olives on the higher 
 grounds had put forth their first green, and with every slight 
 gust that swept across them heaved like sheets of emerald; 
 the birds sang in a thousand notes from every bush ; the sheep 
 and camels lay in the meadows visibly enjoying the sweet air; 
 the shepherds sat gathered together on the side of some gentle 
 eminence, talking, or listening to the songs of the maidens 
 who came in long lines to the fountains below. The heavens 
 gave prospect of a glorious day in the colors shown only to 
 the Oriental eyes; hues so brilliant that many a traveler 
 
 70 
 
tracts Ebou ^UI H Come 
 
 isaiatwei'8 stops on the verge of tlie yalleys arrested, in his haste 
 ^ *" homeward, by the pomp above. AH was the loveliness and 
 joy of pastoral life, in the only country where I ever found it 
 realized. The mind is to be medicined by natural loveliness, 
 and mine was doubly cheered. To return to our home is at 
 all times a delight ; but the new conjuncture, the high hopes 
 of the future, and the consciousness that a career of the most 
 distinguished honors might be opening before my steps, made 
 this return more vivid than all the past; and when we reached 
 the foot of the long ascent from which my dwelling was visi- 
 ble I felt an impatience beyond restraint, and spurred up the 
 hill with my tidings. How fine the ear becomes when quick- 
 ened by the heart ! As the mountain road, now more difficult 
 by the darkness of the wild pines and cedars that crowned the 
 summit, compelled me to slacken my pace, I thought that I 
 could distinguish the household voices, the barking of my 
 hounds, and the laugh of the retainers and peasantry that 
 during the smrmner crowded my doors. 
 
 I pictured the dearer group that had so often welcomed 
 me. The early and cruel loss of my son had not been repaired. 
 I was not destined to be the father of a race; but two 
 daughters were given to me, and in tl^ absence of all ambi- 
 tion, they were more than a recompense. Salome, the elder, 
 was now approaching womanhood; she had the dark eyes 
 and animated beauty of her mother ; the foot of the antelope 
 was not lighter ; and her wreathed smile, her laugh of inno- 
 cence, and her buoyancy of soul forbade sorrow in her sight. 
 How changed I afterward saw that face of living joy ! What 
 floods of sorrow bathed those cheeks, that once shamed the 
 Persian rose ! 
 
 The younger was scarcely more than a child ; her mind and 
 her form were yet equally in the bud, but she had an eye of 
 the deepest azure, a living star ; and even in her playfulness 
 there was an elevation, a lofty and fervent spirit, that made 
 me often forget her years. She was mistress of music almost 
 by nature, and the cadences and rich modulations that poured 
 from her harp, under fingers slight and feeble, as if the stalks 
 of flowers had been flung aoroes the strings, were like secrets 
 
Zbe prince of mapbtali Confronts S>eso[atfon 
 
 of harmony treasured for her touch alone. Our prophets, the h sount in 
 true masters of the sublime, were her rapturous study. Their ' * *' 
 truths might yet be veiled, but their genius blazed broad upon 
 her sensitive soul. 
 
 I pictured my children hastening through the portal, hand 
 iu hand with their noble mother, still in the prime of matronly 
 beauty, to give me -welcome. The light thickened, and the 
 intricacy of the forest impeded me. At length, wearied by 
 the delay, I sprang from my horse, left hun to make his way 
 as best he could, and pushed forward through a thicket which 
 crept round the skirts of the forest. As I struggled onward, 
 listening with sharpened anxiety for every sound of home, I 
 heard a noise like that of a wild beast rustling close at my 
 side. The thicket was now dark. My eyes were useless. I 
 drew my simitar, and plunged it straight before me. The. blow 
 was instantly followed by a shriek. Friend or enemy, silence 
 was now impossible, and I demanded who was nigh. I was 
 answered but by groans ; my next step was on a human body. 
 Shocked and startled, I lifted it in my arms and bore the 
 dyiug man to an open space where the moonlight glinunered. 
 To my unspeakable horror, he was one of my most favored 
 attendants, whom I had left in the principal charge of my 
 household ; I had slain him. I tore up my mantle to stanch 
 his wound, but he fiercely repelled my hand. In an unde- 
 fined dread of some evil to my family, I commanded him to 
 speak, if but one word, and tell me that all was safe. He 
 buried his face in his mantle. 
 
 In the whirlwind of my thoughts I flung him from me, 
 that I might go forward and know the good or evil ; but he 
 clung round my feet, and exerted his last breath to implore 
 me not to leave him to die alone. 
 
 "You have killed me," said he, in broken accents; "but it 
 was only the hand of the Avenger. I was corrupted by gold. 
 You have terrible enemies among the leaders of Jerusalem ; a 
 desperate deed has been done." 
 
 My suspense amounted to agony ; I inade another effort to 
 cast off the trammels of the assassin, but he still implored. 
 
 "Evil things were whispered against you. I was told that 
 
 6 81 
 
Uarts ZTbou ZUl f Come 
 
 Safaibiei you had been convicted of a horrible crime." The sound shot 
 
 : fintie Iftuin 
 
 through my senses; he must have felt the trembling of my 
 frame, for he for the first time looked upon my face. 
 
 "My sight is gone," groaned he, and fell back. I dared 
 not meet the glance even of his clouding eyes. "They said 
 that you were condemned to an unspeakable punishment and 
 that the man who swept the world of you and yours did God 
 service. In my hour of sin the tempter met me, and this day 
 from sunrise have I lurked on your road to strike my bene- 
 factor and my lord. In the dark I lost my way in the thicket ; 
 but vengeance found me." 
 
 "My wife, my children, are they safe? " I exclaimed. 
 
 He quivered, relaxed his hold, and utteriijg "Forgive!" 
 two or three times, with nervous agony, expired. 
 
 A single bound from this spot of death placed me on a point 
 of rock from which I had often gazed on my little world in 
 the valley. The moon was now bright and the view unob- 
 structed. I looked down. Were my eyes dim? There was 
 no habitation beneath me ; the grove, the garden, were there, 
 sleeping ia the moonlight ; but all that had the semblance of 
 life was gone ! I rushed down and found myself among ruias 
 and ashes still hot. I called aloud — in terror and distraction, 
 I yelled to the night, but no voice answered me. My foot 
 struck upon something in the grass ; it was a sword dyed with 
 recent blood. There had been burning, plunder, slaughter 
 here in this treasure-house of my heart ; desolation had been 
 busy in the center of what was to me life — more than life. I 
 raved; I flew through the fields; I rushed back, to convince 
 myself that I was not in some frightful dream. What I en- 
 dured that night I never endured again ; that conflict of fear, 
 astonishment, love, and misery could be contained but once 
 even in my bosom ; in all others it must have been death. In 
 the moment of reviving hope I had been smitten. While my 
 spirit was ascending on the wings of justified ambition and 
 sacred love of country, I had been dashed down to earth, a 
 desolate and a desperate man. 
 
 What I did thenceforth, or how I passed through that night, 
 I know not ; but I was found in the morning with my robe 
 
 83 
 
leaccb 
 
 XTbe ffyrince of IRapbtali Confronts S><esolation 
 
 fantastically thrown over me like a royal mantle, and a frag- m ^rufttesA 
 ment of half -burned wood for a scepter la my hand, perform- 
 ing the part of a monarch, giving orders for the rebuilding 
 of my palace, and marshaling the movements of an army of 
 shrubs and weeds. I was led away with the lofty reluctance 
 of a captive sovereign, to the household of Eleazar. 
 
 The wrath and grief of my kinsmen were without bounds, 
 Every defile of the mountains was searched — every straggler 
 seized ; messengers were despatched across the frontier with 
 offers of ransom to the chiefs of the desert, in case my family 
 should have escaped the sword. Threats of severe retaliation 
 were used by the Eoman governor of the provLuce ; all was in 
 vain. The only intelligence was from a shepherd, who, two 
 nights before, had seen a troop which he supposed to be 
 Arabs, ride swiftly by the gates of Kuriathim, our nearest 
 city; but this intelligence only added to the misfortune. 
 The habits of those robbers were proverbially savage ; they 
 lived by the torch and the sword ; they slaughtered the men 
 without mercy ; the females they generally sold into endless 
 captivity. To leave no trace of their route, they slaughtered 
 the captives whom they could not carry through their hurried 
 marches. To leave no trace of what they had done, they 
 burned the place of massacre. But this ruia was from other 
 and more malignant hands ! 
 
CHAPTER Xm 
 
 Jhe Wandering of a Mind Diseased 
 
 Cbe ir|rannie "What I miglit have suffered in the agony of a 'bereaved 
 Imagination husband and father was spared me. My visitation was of 
 another kind; dreadful, yet perhaps not so preemiuently 
 wretched, nor so deeply striking at the roots of life. My brain 
 had received an overwhelming blow." Imagination was to 
 be my tyrant; and every occurrence of life, every aspect of 
 humanity, every variety of nature, day and night, sunshine 
 and storm, made a portion of its fearful empire. What is in- 
 sanity but a more vivid and terrible dream? It has the 
 dream-like tumult of events, the rapidity of transit, the quick 
 invention, the utter disregard of place and time. The differ- 
 ence lies in its intensity. The madman is awake; and the 
 open eye administers a horrid reality to the fantastic vision. 
 The vigor of the senses gives a living and resistless strength 
 to the vagueness of the fancy; it compels together the fleeting 
 mists of the mind, and embodies them into shapes of deadly 
 power. 
 
 I was mad ! but all my madness was not painful. Books, 
 my old delight, still lulled my mind. I turned the pages of 
 some volume; then fancy waved her wand, and built upon 
 its contents a world of adventure. Every language appeared 
 to open treasures to me. I roved through all lands ; I saw 
 all those eminent in rank or genius ; I drank of the fountains 
 of poetry; I addressed listening senates, and heard the air 
 echo with applause. Wit, beauty, talent, laid their inesti- 
 mable tributes at my feet. I was exalted to the highest tri- 
 umphs of mind ; and then came my fate. In the midst of my 
 glory came a cloud, and I was miserable. This bitter sense 
 of defeat was a characteristic of my visions. Be the cup ever 
 so sweet, it had a poison drop at bottom. 
 
 84 
 
^be lIQIandering of a ASind S>iseased 
 
 The history of my country was most frequent on my mind. Saiatuei in 
 I imagined myself the great King of Babylon. From the ^^ 
 
 superb architecture of those palaces, in which Nebuchadnezzar 
 forgot that he was but a man, I issued my mandates to a hun- 
 dred monarchs. I saw the satraps of the East bow their 
 jeweled necks before my throne. I rode at the head of count- 
 less armies, lord of Asia, and prospective conqueror of all 
 the realms that saw the sun. In the swellings of my haughty 
 soul I exclaimed, like him, "Is not this the great Babylon 
 that I have built? " and like him, in the very uttering of the 
 words I was cast out, humbled to the grass of the field^ hide- 
 ous, brutal, and wretched. . . . 
 
 I was Belshazzar. I sat in the halls of glory. I heard 
 the harps of minstrels, the voices of singing men and women. 
 The banquet was before me; I was surrounded by the tro- 
 phies of irresistible conquest. Beauty, flattery, splendor, the 
 delight of the senses, the keener feast of vanity, the rich 
 anticipation of triumph measureless and endless, made me 
 all but a god. I put the profaned cup of the Temple to 
 my lips. Thunder pealed ; the serene sky, the only canopy 
 worthy of my banquet and my throne, was sheeted over with 
 lightning. I swallowed the wine — it was poison and fire in 
 my veins. The gigantic hand came forth and wrote upon the 
 wall. . . . 
 
 The moon, that ancient mistress of the diseased mind, 
 strongly exerted her spells on mine. I loved her light, but 
 it was only when it mingled softly with the shadows of the 
 forest and the landscape. I welcomed her return from dark- 
 ness as the coming of some guardian genius to shed at once 
 beauty and healing on its path. Darkness was to me a source 
 of terror ; daylight overwhelmed me, but the gentle splendor 
 of the crescent had a dewy and refreshing influence on my 
 faculties. I exposed my feverish forehead to her beams, as 
 if to bathe it in celestial balm. I felt in her gradual increase, 
 an increase of power to soothe and console. This indulgence 
 grew into a kind of visionary passion, I saw in the crescent, 
 as it sailed up the ether, a galley crowded with forms of sur- 
 passing loveliness, faces that bent down and smiled upon me, 
 
 86 
 
TTartB Cbou a;fll IT Come 
 
 Zbc toutB Of and hands tiiat showered treasures, to be collected by mine 
 
 Ucrtot 
 
 alone. But excess even of her light always disturbed me. 
 Prom the full splendor of the moon there was no escape ; the 
 rays smote upon me with merciless infliction ; I fled to the 
 woods as a hunted deer; a thousand shafts of light pene- 
 trated the shade. I hid myself in the depths of my chamber; 
 flames of lambent silver, curling and darting in forms innu- 
 merable, shot round my couch. Upon the inequalities of the 
 ground, or the waves of the fountain and the river, serpents 
 of the most inimitable luster, yet of the most deadly poison, 
 coiled and sprang after me with a rapidity that mocked human 
 feet. If I dared to glance upward, I beheld a menacing vis- 
 age distending to an imimeasurable magnitude, and ready to 
 pour down wrath ; or an orb with its mountains and oceans 
 swinging loose through the heaven and rolling down upon 
 my solitary brow. 
 
 But those were my hours of comparative happiness. I had 
 visions of unspeakable terror ; flights through regions of space, 
 that left earth and the sun incalculable millions of miles be- 
 hind ; flights ceaseless, hopeless — still hurrying onward with 
 more than winged speed through infinite worlds, and still en- 
 during ; the heart sickening and withering with a conscious- 
 ness of being swept beyond the bounds of living things, and 
 of being doomed to this forever. 
 
 Those trials changed into every shape of desperation. 
 
 ... I was driven out to sea in a bark that let in every 
 wave. I struggled to reach the land ; I tore my sinews with toil ; 
 I saw the trees, the shore, the hills, sink in slow, yet sure suc- 
 cession ; I felt in the hands of an invisible power, bent on my 
 undoing. The storm subsided, the sun shone, the ocean was 
 without a surge. Still I struggled ; with the strength of de- 
 spair I toiled to regain the land — to retard the viewless force 
 that was perpetually urging me further from existence. I be- 
 gan to suffer thirst and hunger. They grew to pain, to torture, 
 to madness. I felt as if molten lead; were poured down my 
 throat. I put my arm to my mouth, and shuddering, quenched 
 my thirst in my own veins. It returned instantly with a more 
 fiery sting. There was nothing in the elements to give me 
 
 86 
 
Zbe Tnnandeting of a iiSinO I>iseased 
 
 hope — to draw off thought from my own fate — to deaden the ube irnctea»e 
 venomed sensibilities that quivered through every fiber. The ' """ 
 wiad slept ; the sky was cloudless ; the sea smooth as glass ; 
 not a distant sail, not a wandering bird, not a springing fish, 
 not even a floating weed, broke the terrible monotony. The 
 sun did not pass down the horizon. All above me was un- 
 varied, motionless sky; all around me, unvaried, motionless 
 ocean. I alone moved — still urged further from the chance 
 of life ; still undergoing new accessions of agony that made 
 the past trivial. I tasted the water beside me ; it added fire 
 to fire. I convulsively darted out my withered hands, as if 
 they could have drawn down the rain or grasped the dew. I 
 withered piecemeal, yet with a continuing consciousness in 
 every fragment of my frame ! 
 
 My visitation changed. ... I wandered at midnight 
 through a country of mountaias. Worn out with fatigue, I lay 
 down upon a rock. I found it heave under me. I heard a 
 thunder-peal. A sudden blaze kindled the sky. Bewildered 
 and stunned, I started to my feet. The mountains were on 
 flame ; a hundred mouths poured down torrents of liquid fire ; 
 they came shooting in sulfurous cataracts down the chasms. 
 The forests burned before them like a garment — ^the rocks 
 melted — ^the rivers flew up in sheets of vapor — the valleys 
 were basins of glowing ore — ^the clouds of smoke and ashes 
 gathered over my head in a solid vault of gloom, sullenly 
 illuminated by the conflagration below — the land was a cavern 
 of flre. In terror inconceivable, I ran, I bounded, I plunged 
 down declivities, I swam rivers; still the fiery torrents hunted 
 my steps as if they had been commissioned against me alone. 
 I felt them gathering speed on me ; when I bounded, the spot 
 from which I sprang was on flame before I alighted on the 
 ground. I climbed a promontory with an effort that exhausted 
 my last nerve. The fatal lava swept round its foot and in 
 another instant must encircle me. I ran along the edge of a 
 precipice that made the brain turn ; the fire chased me from 
 pinnacle to pinnacle. I clung to the weeds and trunks of 
 trees on its sides, and, in fear of being dashed to pieces, 
 tremblingly let myself down the wall of perpendicular rock. 
 
 87 
 
Uatcs Ubou Sill f Come 
 
 ffibangee of tbe Breathless and dying at the bottom of the descent, I glanced 
 ""^ "^ "" upward; the flame of the thicket on the broTV showed me my 
 pursuer. I saw the rapid swelling of the molten tide. In 
 another moment it plunged through the air in a white column ; 
 the valley was instantly an expanse of conflagration — every 
 spot was inundated with the blaze. I flew, with scorching 
 feet, with every sinew of my frame parched and dried of its 
 substance — with my eyes blinded and my lungs burned up 
 by the suffocating fumes that rushed before, around, and 
 above me. 
 
 At length my limit was reached. The land afforded no 
 further room for flight. I stood on the verge of the ocean. 
 Death was inevitable. I had but the choice. Before me 
 spread the world of waters, sad, dim, fathomless, intermi- 
 nable ; behind me, the world of flame. By a last desperate 
 effort, I plunged into the ocean. The indefatigable lava rolled 
 on, mass on mass, like armies rushing to the assault. The 
 billows shrank before the fiery shock, sheets of vapor rolled 
 up; still the eruption rolled on, and the returning billows 
 fought against it. The conflict shook the land ; the mountain 
 shore crumbled down ; the sands melted and burned vitreous ; 
 the atmosphere discharged scalding torrents; the winds, 
 shaken from their balance, raged with the violence of more 
 than tempest. Thunder roared in peals that shook the eartli, 
 the ocean, and the heavens. In the midst of alll lived, tossed 
 like a grain of sand in the whirlwind. 
 
 Strange and harassing as those trials of my mind were, 
 they had yet contained some appeals to individual energy, 
 some excitement of personal powers, that produced a kind, 
 of cheering self-applause. I was Prometheus on his rock 
 chained and remediless, yet still resisting and unconquered. 
 But the real misery was when I was passive. 
 
 ... I strayed through an Egyptian city. Buildings num- 
 berless, of the most regal designs, rose round me ; the walls 
 were covered with sculptures of extraordinary richness ; noble 
 statues lined the public ways ; wealth in the wildest profusion 
 was visible wherever the foot trod. Endless ranges of por- 
 phyry and alabaster columns glittered in the noonday sun. 
 
TIbe iMan&eting of a O^ind BtoeaaeO 
 
 Superb ascents of marble steps mounted before me, to heights Un tbe 
 that strained the eye. Arch over arch studded with the luster ''^*^*«''* 
 of precious stones climbed until they lay like raiubows upon 
 the sky. Colossal towers circling with successire colonnades 
 of dazzling brightness, ascended — airy citadels, looking down 
 upon earth, and colored with the infinite dyes and lusters of the 
 clouds. But all was silence in this scene of pomp. There 
 was no tread of human being heard within the circuit of a city, 
 fit for more than man. The utter extinction of all that gives 
 the idea of life was startling ; there was not the note of a pass- 
 ing bird, nor the chirp of a grasshopper. I instinctively 
 shrank from the sight of things lovely in themselves, yet 
 which froze my mind by their image of the tomb. But to 
 escape was impossible ; there was an impression of powerless- 
 ness upon me, for whose melancholy I can find no words. 
 My feet were chaialess, but never fetter clung with such a re- 
 tarding weight as that invisible bond by which I was fixed to 
 the spot. Ages on ages seemed to have heavily sunk away, 
 and still I stood, bound by the same manacle, standing on 
 the same spot, looking on the same objects. To this I would 
 have preferred the fiercest extremes of suffering. Of all 
 passions that dwell withia the heart of man, the passion 
 for change is the most incapable of being extinguished or 
 eluded. 
 
 But a change at length came. The sun sank. Twilight 
 fell, shade on shade, on tower and column until total darkness 
 shrouded the scene of glory. Yet, as if a new faculty of sight 
 were given to me, the thickest darkness did not blunt the eye. 
 I still saw all things — the minutest figures of the architecture, 
 the finest carving of the airy castles, whose height was, even 
 in the sunshine, almost too remote for vision. Suddenly 
 there echoed the murmur of many voices, the tramping of 
 many feet; the colossal gates opened and a procession of 
 forms innumerable entered ; they were of every period of life, 
 of every pursuit, of every rank, of every country. All the 
 various emblems of station, all the weapons and implements 
 of mankind, all costumes, rich and strange, civilized and sav- 
 iOge; all the attributes and adjuncts of the occupations of so- 
 
ZntvQ Cbou a:tll f Come 
 
 » Specttai ciety were in that mighty train. The monarch, sceptered and 
 crowned, passed on his throne; the soldier reining in his 
 charger; the philosopher gazing on his volume; the priest 
 beariag the instruments of sacrifice. It was the triumph of a 
 power ruUng all mankind ; but ruling them when their world 
 has passed away — Death. 
 
 "While I gazed in breathless awe, I found myself involved 
 in the procession. Resistance was in vain. I was conscious 
 that I might as well have struggled against the tides of the 
 ocean, or thought to stop the revolution of the globe. We 
 advanced through the place of darkness by millions of mil- 
 lions, yet without crowding the majestic avenue or reaching 
 its close. I rapidly recognized a multitude of faces which I 
 had known from the models and memorials of the past ages. 
 But the power that marshaled them had no regard for time. 
 The pale, fixed Asiatic countenance of Ninus moved beside 
 the glowing cheek and flashing eye of Alexander. The patri- 
 arch followed the Caesar. The thousand years were as one 
 day, the one day as a thousand years. 
 
 Again the whole stately train suddenly melted before the 
 eye, and I was alone, in tenfold darkness — entombed. I lay 
 in the sepulcher, but with the full vividness of life, and with 
 a perfect knowledge that there it was my doom to lie forever. 
 A miraculous foresight gave me the fearful privilege of look- 
 ing into the most remote futurity. Ages on ages unfolded 
 themselves, with all their wonders, to tantalize me. I saw 
 worlds awake from chaos and return to it in flood and flame. 
 I saw systems swept away like the sand. The universe with- 
 ered with years, and rolled up like the parchment scroll. I 
 saw new regions of space, glowing with a new creation ; the 
 angelic hierarchies rising through new energies, new triumphs, 
 new orders of existence ; developments of power and magnifi- 
 cence, of sublime mercy and essential glory, too high for the 
 conception of mortal faculties. Yet I was still to be entombed ! 
 No ray of light, no sound, no trace of external being, no sym- 
 pathy of flesh or spirit, of earth or heaven was to reach me. 
 The four narrow walls, the winding-sheet, the worm, were my 
 world 1 I seemed to lie thus, for periods beyond all counting; 
 
 90 
 
Zbe TWlanaerJng of a /lNn& Wieeneei) 
 
 powerless to move a limb ; the sleepless, conscious, vivid a wfvift 
 
 victim of misery unspeakable — the bondsman of the sepulcher ! 
 
 In those wanderings, I experienced not even the slightest 
 recollection of the cause which had so sternly shaken my 
 brain ; wife, children, country, were a blank. Imagination, 
 that strangest and most imperious of our faculties, whose 
 soarings from earth to heaven may be among the indications 
 of power beyond the grave, disdains to linger on the realities 
 of our being. It delights in the commanding, the bold, the 
 superb. In my instance it had the wildness of disease ; but 
 who has ever felt its workings, even in the dream of health, 
 without wonder at its passion for the richer and more highly 
 relieved remembrances ; its singular skill in throwing together 
 the loftier portions of life and nature, to the total disregard 
 of the level ; its subtlety in the seizure of the circumstances of 
 pain, its fabrication of adventure, at once of the most regular 
 consecutiveness, and the wildest originality; and all charac- 
 terized by the same spontaneous swiftness of change and 
 illimitable command over space and time, a power of instant 
 flight from continent to continent, and from world to world — 
 the transit that would actually fill up years and ages the 
 work of a moment ! — the actual moment expanding into years 
 and ages ! 
 
 What are those but the inf aut attributes of the disembodied 
 spirit! — the imperfect developments of a state of being to 
 which time and space are ap nothing — when man, shaking off 
 the covering of the grave, si.ail be clothed with the might of 
 angels ! — the splendid denizen of Infinitude and Eternity I 
 
 Imagination 
 
 M 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 77ie Fury of a. Tempest 
 
 S«iatMei At length the past returned to my mind. Dim recoUec- 
 
 TOan6et8 tions, shadows that alternately advanced and eluded me, 
 sketches of forms and events, like pictures unfinished by the 
 pencil, lay before me, colorless and undefined. But day by 
 day the outlines grew more complete, the figures assumed a 
 body, they lived — they moved — they uttered sounds; and 
 while to other eyes I was a solitary and hopeless fugitive 
 from human converse, to my own I was surrounded by a circle 
 of all that I loved, yet with a continued sense of privation, a 
 mysterious feeling of something imperfect in the indulgence 
 that dashed my cup with bitterness. 
 
 With the increase of my strength, I became a wanderer to 
 great distances among the mountains. No persuasion of my 
 kinsmen could restrain me from those excursions. The mild- 
 ness of a climate in which the population sleep in the open 
 air, and the abundance of fruits, met the two chief difficulties 
 of traveling. I felt an irresistible impulse to penetrate the 
 mountain ranges that rose iu chains of purple and azure be- 
 fore me. With the artifice of the diseased mind, I made my 
 few preparations in secret, and with but scrip and staff, 
 marched forth to tread hill and valley, city and desert, were 
 it to the last limit of the globe. 
 
 Through what diversities of scene or impediments of road 
 I passed no recollection remains with me. The same instinct 
 which guides the bird led me to the fruit-tree and the stream, 
 taught me where to shelter for the night, and gave me sagacity 
 enough for the avoidance of the habitual dangers of a route 
 seldom tried but by the wolf and the robber. 
 
 My frame, gradually invigorated by exercise, bore me 
 through all, and I scaled the chain of Libanus with an un- 
 
 93 
 
TTbe afurg of a tempest 
 
 ■wearied foot. There I reached the skirts of a region where fln Siabt of 
 the snow scarcely melts, even in the burning summer of Syria, lebanon" 
 The falling of the leaf and the furious blasts that burst 
 through the ravines told me that I had spent months in my 
 pilgrimage, and that I must brave winter on its throne. Still 
 I persevered. I felt a new excitement in the new dif&culty 
 of the season; I longed to try my power of endurance against 
 the storm, to wrestle with the whirlwind, to baffle the torrent. 
 The very sight of the snow, as it began to sheet the sides of 
 the lower hills, gave me a vague idea of a brighter realm of 
 existence ; it united the pinnacles with the clouds ; the noble 
 promontories and forest-covered eminences no longer rose in 
 stern contrast with the sky; they were dipped in celestial blue ; 
 they wore the silvery and sparkling luster of the morning 
 skies ; they blushed in the effulgence of the sunset, with as 
 rich a crimson as the cloud that crowned them. 
 
 But all was not fantastic vision. From the summit of one 
 of those hills I saw what was then worth a pilgrimage through 
 half the world to see, the cedar grove of Lebanon." After a 
 day of unusual fatigue and perplexity, I had found my patli 
 blocked up by a perpendicular pile of rock. To all but my- 
 self the dif&culty might have been impracticable; but my 
 habits had given me the spring and sinew of a panther ; I 
 bounded against the marble, and after long effort, by the help 
 of weeds and scattered roots of the wild vines, climbed my 
 perilous way to the summit. An endless range of Syria lay 
 beneath ; the sea and the wilderness gleamed on my left and 
 right ; and a rich succession of dells, crowded with the date, 
 the oliTC. and the grape, in their autumnal dyes, spread out 
 before me, as far as the eye could reach, in a land whose air 
 is pure as crystal. 
 
 A sound of trumpets and wild harmonies arose, and I dis- 
 covered, at an almost viewless depth below, a concourse of 
 people moving through the hollows of the mountains. The 
 tendency of man to man is irresistible ; and that unexpected 
 sight, where but the wild beast and the eagle were to have 
 been my companions, gave me the first sensation of pleasure 
 that I had long experienced. Bounding from rock to rock 
 
 98 
 
XTattg OTiou ZIU IT Come 
 
 ®n Scriptural with a hazardous rapidity whicli arrested the crowd in aston- 
 ishment and alarm, I joined them, just in time to see the 
 shafts and slings laid down, which they had prepared for my 
 coming, in the uncertainty whether I were a wolf or the leader 
 of a troop of mountain rohbers ! 
 
 They formed one of the many caravans which annually 
 gathered from the shores of the Mediterranean to worship at 
 Lebanon. Their homage to sacred groves had been transmitted 
 from the earliest antiquity, and was universal in the realms of 
 paganism. To the Jew, worship on the hill and under the 
 tree was prohibited ; but the forest that Solomon had chosen, 
 the trees of which the first Temple was built, the foliage 
 which shaded the first planters of the earth, must to the de- 
 scendant of Abraham be full of reverent interest. The ground 
 was Scriptural; the fiery striag of the prophet Ezekiel had 
 been struck in. its praise ; the noblest raptures of our poets 
 celebrated the glory of Lebanon ; the names of the surrounding 
 landscape recalled lofty and lovely memories; the vale of 
 Eden led to the mountain of the Cedars ! 
 
 To my fellow-travelers, traditions tinged by the fervid 
 coloring of the Oriental fancy heightened the native power 
 of the spot. On the summits of the trees were said to descend 
 at appointed times those ministering spirits whose purpose is 
 to rectify the ways of man. There stooped on the wing the 
 bearers of the sword against the evil monarchs ; there brooded 
 the angel of the tempest ; there the invisible ruler of the pes- 
 tilence blew with his breath and nations sickened ; there, in 
 night and in the interval of storms, was heard the trumpet 
 that, before kings dreamed of quarrel, announced the collision 
 of guilty empires for their common ruin. The violation of 
 the grove was supposed to be visited with the most inexorable 
 calamity ; the hand that cut down a tree for any ordinary use 
 withered from the body ; all misfortunes fell upon the man ; 
 his wealth disappeared, his children died in their prime; 
 if life was suffered to linger in himself, it was only to perpetu- 
 ate the warning of his punishment. Yet, there were gentler 
 distinctions mingled with those stem attributes. Above the 
 hill was the pagan entrance to the skies. Once in the year, 
 
 94 
 
Zbe jfwtB ot a ^Tempeat 
 
 the celestial gate rolled back on its golden hinges to sounds n caravan of 
 surpassing mortal music; the heavens dropped balm; the ™'"^''**^ 
 prayer offered on that night reached at once the supreme 
 throne; the tear was treasured in the volume of light, and 
 the worshiper who died before the envious coming of the 
 morn ascended to a felicity, earned by others only through 
 the tardy trial of the grave! Even the river, which ran 
 round the mountain's foot, bore its share of virtue ; its water, 
 unpolluted by the decays of autumn or the turbidness of 
 winter, showed the preservative power of a superior spell; it 
 was entitled the Holy Stream, and sealed vessels of its water 
 were sent even to India and Italy as presents of health and 
 sanctity to kings, gifts worthy of kings. 
 
 When we entered the last defile, the minstrels and singers 
 of the caravan commenced a paean. Altars fumed from vari- 
 ous points of the chasm above and the Syrian priests were 
 seen in their robes performing the empty rites of idolatry. I 
 turned away from this perversion of human reason, and pressed 
 forward through the lingering multitude until the forest rose 
 in its majesty before me. 
 
 My step was now checked in solemn admiration. I saw the 
 earliest products of the earth — the patriarchs of the vegetable 
 world. The first generation of the reviving globe had sat 
 beneath these green and lovely arches ; the final generation 
 was to sit beneath them. No roof so noble ever rose above 
 the heads of monarchs, tho it were covered with gold and 
 diamonds ! The forest had been greatly impaired in its extent 
 and beauty by the sacrilegious hand of war. The perpetual 
 conflicts of the Syrian and Egyptian dynasties had laid the ax 
 to it with remorseless violation. It once spread over the 
 whole range of the mountains ; its dimiuished strength now, 
 like the relics of a mighty army, made its stand among the 
 central fortresses of its native region; and there majestically 
 bade defiance to the further assault of steel and fire. The 
 forms of the trees seemed made for duration ; the trunks were 
 of prodigious thickness, smooth and round as pillars of marble ; 
 some rising to a great height, and throwing out a vast level 
 roof of foliage ; some dividing into a cluster of trunks, and 
 
 95 
 
XTatcs ^ou O^ill f Come 
 
 Bbe TCioo6ian» with their various heights of branch and leaf making a suc- 
 cession of Terdurous caves ; some propagating themselves by 
 circles of young cedars, risen where the fruit had dropped 
 upon the ground ; the whole bearing the aspect of a colossal 
 temple of nature — the shafted column, the deep arch, the 
 solid buttresses, branching off into the richest caprices of Ori- 
 ental architecture, the solemn roof, high above, pale, yet 
 painted by the strong sunlight through the leaves with trans- 
 parent and tesselated dyes, various as the colors of the In- 
 dian loom. 
 
 In the momentary feeling of awe and of wonder, I could 
 comprehend why paganism loved to worship under the shade 
 of forests and why the poets of paganism filled that shade 
 with the presence of deities. The airy whisperings, the deep 
 loneliness, the rich twilight, were the very food of mystery. 
 Even the forms that towered before the eye, those ancient 
 trees, the survivors of the general law of mortality, gigantic, 
 hoary, covered with their weedy robes, bowing their aged 
 heads in the blast, and uttering strange sounds and groanings 
 in the struggle, gave to the high-wrought superstition of the 
 time the images of things unearthly; the oracle, and the God! 
 Or, was this impression but the obscure revival of one of those 
 lovely truths that shone upon the days of Paradise when man 
 drew knowledge from its fount in nature, and all but his 
 own passions were disclosed to the first-born of creation? 
 
 The caravan encamped in the depth of the valley, and the 
 grove was soon crowded with worshipers, in whose homage I 
 could take no share. Fires were lighted on the large stones, 
 which had for ages served the purpose of altars; and the 
 names of the Syrian idols were shouted and sung in the fierce 
 exultation of a worship but slightly purified from its original 
 barbarism. As the night fell, I withdrew to the entrance of 
 the defile and gave a last glance at Lebanon. In the grove, 
 filled with fires, and echoing with wild music and dances of 
 riot, I saw the emblem of my fallen country ; the holiness, 
 old as the memory of nations, profaned; yet the existence 
 preserved, and still to be preserved ; Israel, once throned upon 
 its mountains, now diminished of its beauty, to be yet more 
 
 96 
 
ttbc jfurB ot a Zcmpcet 
 
 diminislied, but to livewlien all else perislied; to be restored, sautwci's 
 ;and to cover its native bills again witb glory. I buried my ""^^ 
 face in my robe, and throwing myself down by the skirt of 
 one of the tents, gave way to meditations, sweet and bitter. 
 They passed into my sleep and I was once more in the bosom 
 of my family. 
 
 I heard my name pronounced! I listened; the name of 
 my wife followed. I looked to the sky, to the forest, to 
 convince me that this was no mockery of the diseased mind. 
 I was fully awake. I lifted up the corner of the tent. Sav- 
 age figures were sitting over their cups, inflamed into quarrel; 
 and, in the midst of high words and execrations, I heard 
 their story. They were robbers from Mount Amanus," come 
 equally to purify their hands by offering sacrifice at Lebanon, 
 and to recompense themselves for their lost time by robbing 
 on the way home. The quarrel had arisen from the proposal 
 of one of them to extend their expedition into Judea, a pro- 
 posal which he sustained by mentioning the success of his 
 previous enterprises. My name was again sent from mouth 
 to mouth, and I found that it was inscribed on some jewel 
 which formed a part of his plunder. The thought struck me 
 that this might afford a clue. I burst into the tent and de- 
 manded tidings of my wife and children. The ruflSiaTis started, 
 as if in the presence of a specter. 
 
 "Where," I repeated, " are my family? I am Salathiel!" 
 
 " Safe enough," said the foremost. 
 
 "Are they alive?" I cried; "lead me where they are, and 
 you shall have whatever ransom you desire." 
 
 The ruffian laughed. "Why, as for ransom, all the money 
 has been made by them that is likely to be made for some 
 time, unless the Greek that bought them repents of his 
 bargain." 
 
 The speech'was received with loud laughter. I grew furi- 
 ous. 
 
 "Villains, you have murdered them. Tell me the whole — 
 show me where they lie, or I will deliver you up to the chief 
 of the caravan as robbers and murderers." 
 
 They were appalled ; with a single stride I was at the 
 
 7 97 
 
Z&tvs ZTbou trill ir Come 
 
 Jn Seatcb throat of the leading ruffian, and seized the jewel ; it was my 
 "" ^ bridal present to Miriam ! My hand trembled, my eyes grew 
 dim at the glance. But in the next moment I found myself 
 pinioned, a gag forced into my mouth, a cloak flung over me, 
 and I heard the discussion — whether I was to be stabbed on 
 the spot, left to die of famine, or have my tongue cut out, and 
 thus unfitted for telling secrets, be turned to gain and sold 
 for a slave. 
 
 But this was not to be my lot. The quarrel of the banditti 
 increased with their wine; blows were given; the solitary 
 lamp was thrown down in the conflict; it caught some com- 
 bustible matter, and the tent was in a blaze. By a violent ex- 
 ertion I loosened the cords from my arms, and in the confusion 
 fled unseen. The fire spread, and my last glance at the valley 
 showed the encampment turned into a sheet of fire. Alone, 
 and exhausted with deadly fatigue, I yet had but one thought, 
 that of seeking my family through the world. I wandered 
 on through the vast range of wild country that guards Syria 
 on the side of the desert. I was parched by the burning noon, 
 I was frozen by the keen winds of night ; I hungered and 
 thirsted, yet the determination was strong as death, and I 
 persevered. I at length reached the foot of Mount Amanus, 
 traversed the chain, saw from it the interminable plains of 
 Asia Minor, the desert of Aleppo, the shores of Tripoli, and 
 was then left only to choose in which I should again commence 
 my hopeless pilgrimage. 
 
 There is something in great distress of mind that throws a 
 strange protection round the sufferer. I passed the Roman 
 guards unquestioned — the robber left me without inquiring 
 whether I was worth his dagger. The wolves, driven down 
 by famine, and devouring all else that had life, neglected the 
 banquet that I might have supplied. Yet I shrank from 
 nothing, and marched on through city, cave and forest. But 
 one evening the sky was loaded with a tempest that drove 
 even me to seek for shelter. I found it in one of the caverns, 
 that so often scare the mariner's eye, on the iron-bound shore 
 of Cilicia. 
 
 Fatigue soon threw me into a heavy slumber. The weight 
 
Ube 3fnvs ot a XEempest 
 
 of the tempest toward midniglit roused me, and from the mouth Ube -Kescue 
 of the cavern I gazed on the lightning that disclosed at every " * "*'*' 
 explosion the sea rolling in foaming ridges before the gale. 
 In the intervals of the gusts I heard, to my surprise, the 
 murmur of many voices, apparently in prayer, close beside 
 me. But all my interest was suddenly fixed on the sea by 
 the sight of a large war-galley running before the wind. She 
 had neither sail nor oar. Her masts were gone and but for the 
 crowd of people on her deck, whose distracted attitudes I could 
 clearly see by the flashes, she looked a floating tomb. 
 
 To warn the galley of the nearness of the shore, I gathered 
 the brushwood beside me, and set it on fire. A shout from 
 the crew told that my signal was understood, and I rushed 
 down the bed of a stream that fretted its way through the 
 precipice. Before I reached the shore, I saw various fires 
 blazing above, and many figures hurrying down on a purpose 
 like my own. We had not arrived too soon. The galley, 
 after desperate efforts to keep the sea, had run for an inlet of 
 the rocks and was embayed; surge on surge, each higher 
 than the one before, now rolled over the ill-fated vessel, and 
 each swept some portion of her crew into the deep. We rushed 
 into the waves and had succeeded in drawing many to shore 
 when a broader burst, the concentrated force of the tempest, 
 thundered on the galley; she was broken into splinters. 
 Stunned and half-suffocated with the surge, I grasped, in the 
 mere instinct of self-preservation, at whatever was nearest 
 and, through infinite hazard, reached the shore with a body 
 in my arms. Need I tell my terror, anxiety, hope, and joy 
 when I found that this being, whom I saw at length breath- 
 ing, moving, pronouncing my name, falling on my neck, was 
 Miriam ! 
 
 My daughters, too, were rescued. The nearness of the 
 shore saved the crew, who, until they saw the fire on the 
 rocks, had given themselves up to despair. The chance of 
 help led them to steer close inland, and I was congratulated 
 as the general preserver. Miriam's story was brief. Our 
 dwelling had been surrounded by a troop of robbers. The 
 household were surprised in their sleep. Resistance was 
 
 99 
 
ITaccB a;bou ^ill H Come 
 
 Kmong vain ; the rest -was plunder and captivity. The robbers, f ear- 
 
 IRobbets 
 
 ful of pursuit, took the road to the mountains at full speed. 
 My wife and daughters were treated with unusual care, lest 
 their beauty should be injured, and thus their value in the 
 slave-market of Tripoli impaired. As the robber told me, 
 they had been purchased by a merchant of Cyprus, and by 
 Tiim conveyed to his island to be sold to some more opulent 
 master. There they were redeemed by an act of equal gen- 
 erosity and valor, and were returning to Judea when they 
 were overtaken by the storm. 
 
 100 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 The Appeal of Miriam 
 
 When the first tumult of our spirits was passed, I had Ube Cbanges 
 leisure to see what changes the interval had made in faces so 
 loved. Miriam's betrayed the hours of distress and paiu that 
 she must have passed through, but her noble style of beauty, 
 the emanation of a noble mind, was as conspicuous as ever. I 
 even thought, when her eyes met mine from time to time, that 
 they shone with a loftier iutelUgence, as if misfortune had 
 raised their vision above the things of our trivial world. My 
 daughters' forms had matured, but Salome, the elder, had to 
 a certain degree her mother's look; her glance was bright, 
 yet she was often lost iu meditation, and the rapid changes of 
 her cheek from the deepest crimson to the whiteness of the 
 snow alarmed me with menaces of early decay. Esther, too, 
 had undergone her revolution. But it was of the brightest 
 texture. The seas, the skies, the "mountains of Greece, filled 
 her glowing spirit with images of new life. She had listened 
 with boundless delight to the traditions of that most brilliant 
 of all people ; the works of the pencil and the chisel had met 
 her eye in a profuseness and perfection that she had never 
 contemplated before; her harp had echoed to names of roman- 
 tic valor and proud patriotism; and as I gazed on her ia those 
 hours when in the feeling that she was unobserved she gave 
 way to the rich impulses of her soul, I thought alternately of 
 the prophetess and of the muse. 
 
 The shipwreck converted the solitary shore into a little vil- 
 lage; the sailors collected the fragments of the vessel and 
 formed them into huts ; the caves that ran along the level of 
 the sands supplied habitations in themselves, and by the as- 
 sistance of those dwellers on the precipice, who had so imex- 
 pectedly started to light, the first difficulties of a wild coast 
 
 101 
 
traces tTbou Zill H Come 
 
 Safatbfei -were suflSoiently combated. The bustling activity of the 
 ' ■ConstantluB Grreek raariners and the adroitness with which they availed 
 themselves of all contrivances for passing the heavy hour, 
 their sleights-of-hand, sports and dances, their recitations of 
 popular poems, and their boat-songs, kept the spot in con- 
 tinual animation. 
 
 This was my first contact with the actual people, and I 
 acknowledged their right to have been distinguished among 
 the most showy disturbers of mankind. The evil of the char- 
 acter too was displayed without much trouble of disguise. 
 They habitually gamed till they had no better stake than the 
 fragments of their own clothing ; but they would game for a 
 shell, for a stone that they picked up on the sands, for any- 
 thing. They quarreled with as perfect facility as they gamed ; 
 the knife was out quick as lightning, but to do them justice 
 their wrath was as brief. The combatants embraced at a 
 word, danced, kissed, and wept; then drank, gamed, quarreled, 
 and were sworn brothers again. But this was Greece in its 
 lowest rank. 
 
 Constantius, the commander of the galley, was a specimen 
 of the land which produced a Plato and a Pericles. When I 
 first saw him led to me by Miriam, as the champion who had 
 restored her and her children to happiness, I saw virtue and 
 manliness of the highest order in his features. He was in his 
 prime, but a scar across his forehead and the severities of 
 martial life had given early seriousness to his countenance. 
 But his conversation had the full spirit of the spring-time of 
 life. It was incomparably various and animated, altogether 
 free from professional pedantry ; it had the interest that be- 
 longs to professional feelings. Military adventure, striking 
 traits of warlike intelligence, the composition of the fleets and 
 armies of the various states that fought under the wing of the 
 Eoman eagle, were topics on which his fire was exhaustless. 
 On those I listened to him with the strong sympathy of one 
 to whom war must henceforth be the grand pursuit ; war for 
 national freedom — war purified of its evil by the most illustri- 
 ous cause that ever unsheathed the sword. 
 
 He had conversation for us all. His intercourse with the 
 
 103 
 
ilbe Bppcal of /ibfctam 
 
 ruling lands of tlie earth gave him a copious store of recoUec- b simple 
 tions, picturesque and strange. Esther combated and ques- '™'"^^'>'p 
 tioned the traveler. Salome listened to the warrior — listened 
 and loved. He had higher topics of which I was yet to hear. 
 In the inhabitants of the precipice he found a little colony of 
 his countrymen, fugitive Christians driven out by persecution, 
 to make their home in the wilderness of nature." The long 
 range of caverns which perforated the rock gave them a roof. 
 The fertility of the soil, and the occasional visit of a bark sent 
 by their concealed friends, supplied the necessaries of life, 
 and there they awaited the close of that ferocious tyranny 
 which at length roused the world against Nero— or awaited 
 the end of all suffering in the grave. A succession of storms 
 rendered traveling impossible and detained us among those 
 hermits for some days. I found them intelligent and, in gen- 
 eral, men of the higher ranks of knowledge and condition. 
 Some were of celebrated families, and had left behind them 
 opulence and authority. A few were peasants. But mis- 
 fortune and, still more, principle, extinguished all that was 
 abrupt in the inequality of ranks without leaving license in 
 its stead. Jew as I was, and steadily bound to the customs 
 of my country, I yet did honor to the patience, the humility, 
 and the devotedness of those exiled men. I even once at- 
 tended their worship on the first day of the week, assured 
 that the abomination of idols was not to be found there, and 
 that I should hear nothing insulting to the name of Israel. 
 
 The ceremonial was simple. Those who had witnessed the 
 heaven-commanded magnificence of the Temple might smile 
 at the bareness of walls of rock, figured only with the wild 
 herbage; or those who had seen the extravagant and com- 
 plicated rites of paganism might scorn the few and obvious 
 forms of the homage. But there was the spirit of strong 
 prayer, the breathing of the heart, the unanswerable sincer- 
 ity. Every violence of the mere animal frame was unknown. 
 I saw no pagan convulsion, no fierceness of outcry and ges- 
 ture, not even the vehement solemnity of the Jew. All was 
 calm ; tears stole down, but they stole in silence ; knees were 
 bowed, but there was no prostration ; prayers fervent and lofty 
 
 103 
 
trarrg Wbou c:ill H Gome 
 
 UbeflDomentofwere poured forth, but they were iu accents uttered less from 
 
 *" '* the lip than from the soul — appeals of hallowed confidence, 
 
 as to a Being who was sure to hear the voice of children to a 
 
 Father who, wherever two or three were gathered together, 
 
 was in the midst of them. 
 
 At length the storms cleared away and the sky wore the 
 native azure of the climate. A messenger despatched to 
 Cyprus returned with a vessel for the embarkation of the 
 Greeks. Camels and mules were procured from the neighbor- 
 ing country for our journey, and the morning was fixed on 
 which we were to separate. Yet with so mu.ch reason for joy, 
 few resolutions could have been received with less favor. 
 Constantius almost shunned society or shared in it with a 
 silence and depression that made his philosophy more than 
 questionable. Miriam was engaged in long conferences with 
 Salome, from which they both came away much saddened. 
 Esther was thus my chief companion, and she talked of the 
 shore, the sea, and even of the tempests, with heightened in- 
 terest. The Greeks, sailor and soldier alike, loved too well 
 the romantic ease and careless adventure of the place to look 
 with complacency on the little vessel in which they were to 
 be borne once more into the land of restraint. The fugitive 
 colony were not the slowest in their regrets. They had been 
 deeply prepared for human vicissitudes, and had humbled 
 themselves to all things ; yet such is the strong and natural 
 connection of man with man that they lamented the solitude 
 to which they must again be left, like the commencement of 
 a new exile. 
 
 There are few things more singular than the blindness which, 
 in matters of the highest importance to ourselves, often hides 
 the truth that is as plain as noon to all other eyes. The cause 
 which had deprived Constantius of his eloquence and Salome 
 of her animation was obvious to every one but me. N"or was 
 the mystery yet to be disclosed to my tardy knowledge. I 
 had strayed through the cliffs, as was my custom after the 
 heat of the day, and was taking a last look at the sea from 
 the edge of the precipice. The sands far below me were 
 covered with preparations for the voyage, which, like oui 
 
 104 
 

 
 
 
 
 -^ 
 
 'V 
 
 
 '■'lii^"::- 
 
 s ^ 
 
 .i^ 
 
 ■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 ~ 
 
 
 wm 
 
 ^^i^' 
 
 :'^W1* 
 
 
 
 HI 
 
 IP 
 
 te 
 
 WKmm 
 
 ir"' 
 
 
 
 
 ■ ;-^* 
 
 a^^' "■•■ 
 
 W 
 
 fc:,- ■"f>)0^ 
 
 F 
 
 
 _ , 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^H 
 
 iJte^ f^,./ 
 
 ■^^^"^^'^ 
 
 , ^^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^^Kj^ ' ^ ' -'iffli 
 
 
 ^^*i 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^t^..._ 
 
 P 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 J 
 
 1 
 
 ■* 
 
 ■1 ^gii 
 
 
 4:^ 
 
 
 M/ 
 
 1 
 
 
 twtwp' '^^^^^^ 
 
 ■ ' r ' ^' 
 
 y^"-*.-*. 
 
 /;"'«% 
 
 "^m. 
 
 M 
 
 /d 
 
 %' .. ■ 
 
 '"^ .- 
 
 
 <*" 
 
 1 
 
 K'' 
 
 * 
 
 
 ,-^fe • ■ 
 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 
 \::'^mm^ 
 
 
 
 
 ■ 4 
 
 ■y 
 
 
 -W^S^Mii^^^- ' «HHWf ' \ 
 
 
 mm 
 
 
 
 
 
 ^^^K^. 
 
 
 
 Ik'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 P 
 
 ^^^^^^w 
 
 p 
 
 
 
 '1 
 
 Copyright, ]9l)l, by Fuak & V\ agualls tlorapany, N. Y. and London 
 
 'Read the Scriptures. I have prayed for you. Read!" 
 
 - See page t09. 
 
tibe Bppeal ot ^ttiam 
 
 journey, was to commence witli the rising sim. The little saiatwei alone 
 vessel lay, a glittering toy, at anchor with her thread-like *'"" * ''*'" 
 streamers playing in the breeze. The sailors were fishing, 
 preparing their evening meal, heaving water and provisions 
 down the rocks, or enjoying themselves over flagons of Syrian 
 wine round their fires. All was the activity of a seaport, but 
 from the height on which I stood, all was but the activity of 
 a mole-hill. 
 
 "And is it of such materials," mused I, "that ambition is 
 made? Is it to command, to be gazed on, to be shouted after 
 by such mites and atoms as those, that life is exhausted in 
 watching and weariness ; that our true enjoyments are sacri- 
 ficed ; that the present and the future are equally cast from 
 us ; that the hand is dipped in blood and the earth desolated? 
 What must Alexander's triumph have looked to one who 
 saw it from the towers of Babylon? A triumph of emmets ! " 
 I smiled at the moral of three hundred feet of precipice. 
 
 A step beside me put my philosophy to flight. My wife 
 stood there, and never saw I her beauty more beautiful. The 
 exertion of the ascent had colored her cheek ; the breeze had 
 scattered her raven locks across a forehead of the purest 
 white ; her lips wore the smile so long absent, and there was 
 altogether an air of hope and joy in her countenance that 
 made me instinctively ask of what good news she was the 
 bearer. Without a word, she sat down beside me and pressed 
 my hand; she fixed her eyes on mine, tried to speak, and 
 failing, fell on my neck and burst into tears. Alarmed by 
 her sobs and the wild beating of her heart, I was about to rise 
 for assistance when she detained me, and the smile returned ; 
 she bared her forehead to the breeze, and recovering, dis- 
 burdened her soul. 
 
 "How many billows," said she, gazing on the sea, "will 
 roU between that little bark and this shore to-morrow ! There 
 is always something melancholy in parting. Yet if that vessel 
 could feel, with what delight woidd she not wing her way to 
 Cyprus, lovely Cyprus ! " 
 
 I was surprised. "Miriam! this from you? Can you 
 regret the place of paganism — the land of your captivity? " 
 
 106 
 
Hares tTbou ZUl f Come 
 
 I flM^m Speafts "Fo," was the answer, with a look of lofty truth; "I ab- 
 horred the guilty profanations of the pagan; and who can 
 love the dungeon? Even were Cyprus a paradise, I should 
 have felt unhappy in the separation from my country and 
 from you. Yet those alone who have seen the matchless 
 loveliness of the island — the perpetual animation of life in a 
 climate and in the midst of scenes made for happiness — can 
 know the sacrifice that must be made by its people in leaving 
 it, and leaving it perhaps forever." 
 
 "The crew of that galley are not to be tried by long exUe. 
 In two days at furthest, they will anchor in their own har- 
 bor, " was my only answer. 
 
 " And how deeply must the sacrifice be enhanced by the 
 abandonment of rank, wealth, professional honors ! — and this 
 is the sacrifice on which I have been sent to consult my hus- 
 band." 
 
 I was totally at a loss to conceive of whom she spoke. 
 
 " Our friend — our deliverer from captivity or death — the 
 generous being who, through infinite hazards, restored your 
 wife and children to happiness and home " 
 
 "Constantius? Impossible! At the very age of ambition, 
 with his talents, his knowledge of life, his prospects of dis- 
 tinction ! " 
 
 "Constantius will never return to Cyprus in that galley — 
 will never draw sword for Eome again — will never quit the 
 land given by Heaven to our fathers, if such be the will of 
 Salathiel." 
 
 " Strange. But his motives? He is superior to the fickle- 
 ness that abandons an honorable course of life through the 
 pure love of novelty — or is he weary of the absurdities of 
 paganism? " 
 
 "Thoroughly weary — more than weary: he has abjured 
 them forever and ever." 
 
 "You rejoice me. But it was to be expected from his 
 manly mind. You have brought an illustrious convert, my 
 beloved ! and if your captivity has done this, it was the will 
 of Heaven. Constantius shall be led with distinction to the 
 Temple and be one of ourselves. Judea may yet require such 
 
 106 
 
Zbc Bppeal o( iCiciam 
 
 men. Our holy religion may exult in such conquests from the iiBiriam's 
 darkness of the idolatrous world." *""" 
 
 The voice of the hermits at their eveniug prayer now arose 
 and held us in a silence which neither seemed inclined to 
 break. Many thoughts pressed on my mind : the addition to 
 our circle of a man whom I honored and esteemed; the ac- 
 cession of a practised soldier to our cause ; the near approach 
 of the hour of conflict ; the precarious fate of those I loved in 
 the great convulsion which was to rend away the Eoman yoke 
 or leave Judea a tomb. I accidentally looked up and saw that 
 Miriam had been as abstracted as myself. But war and 
 policy were not in the contemplations of the beaming counte- 
 nance ; nor their words on the lips that quivered and crimsoned 
 before me. Her eyes were fixed on the sky, and she was in 
 evident prayer, which I desired not to disturb. 
 
 She at length caught my glance and blushed like one de- 
 tected; but quickly recovering, said in a tone never to be 
 forgotten: "My husband! my lord! my love! would that I 
 dared open my whole spirit to you ! would that you could 
 read for yourself the truths written in my heart ! " 
 
 "Miriam!" 
 
 " This is no reproach. But I know your strength of opinion 
 — your passion for all that concerns the glory of Israel; 
 your right, the right of talents and character to the foremost 
 rank among the priesthood — and those things repel me." 
 
 "Speak out at once. We can have no concealments, 
 Miriam; candor, candor in all things." 
 
 " You have heard the prayers of those exiles ; you acknowl- 
 edge their acquirements and understandings ; they have sac- 
 rificed much, everything — friends, country, the world. Can 
 such men have been imposed on? Can they have imposed on 
 themselves? Is it possible that their sacrifices could have 
 been made for a fiction? " 
 
 " Perhaps not ; the question is difficult. We are strangely 
 the slaves of impulse. Men every day abandon the most 
 obvious good for the most palpable follies. Enthusiasm is a 
 minor madness. " 
 
 " But are those exiles enthusiasts? They are grave men, 
 
 107 
 
XTatts ^bou trill ir Gome 
 
 '^«*ope experienced in life; their language is totally free from ex- 
 travagance; they reason -with singular clearness; they lire 
 with the most striking command over the habits of their 
 original condition. Greeks as they are, you see no haste of 
 temper, you hear no violence of language among them. Once 
 idolaters, they shrink from the thought of idols. Now fugi- 
 tive and persecuted, they pray for their persecutors. Sharing 
 the lair of wild beasts, and driven out from all that they 
 knew and loved, they utter no complaint — they even rejoice 
 in their calamity and offer up praises to the mercy that shut 
 the gates of earth upon their steps, only to open the gates of 
 heaven. " 
 
 "I am no persecutor, Miriam. Nay, I honor the self- 
 denial, as I doubt not the sincerity of those men. But if they 
 have thrown off a portion of their early blindness, why not 
 desire the full illumination? Why linger half-way between 
 fasehood and truth? It is not, as you know, our custom to 
 solicit proselytes. But such men might be not unworthy of 
 the hope of Israel. " 
 
 " It is to the hope of Israel that they have come, that they 
 cling, that they look up for a recompense — a glorious recom- 
 pense for their sufferings. " 
 
 "Let them then join us at sunrise, and come to our holy 
 city." 
 
 "Salathiel, the time is declared when men shall worship 
 not in that mountain alone, but through all lands ; when the 
 yoke of our law shall be lightened and the weary shall have 
 rest ; when the altar shall pass away as the illustrious victim 
 has passed, and the wisdom of heaven shall be the possession 
 of all mankind." 
 
 I looked at her in astonishment. " Miriam, this from you ! 
 from a daughter of the blood of Jacob ! from the wife of a 
 servant of the Temple ! Have you become a Christian? " 
 
 " I have done nothing in presumption. I have prayed to 
 the Source of light that He would enlighten my understand- 
 ing ; I have, night and day, examined the law and the prophets. 
 Bear with my weakness, Salathiel, if it be proved weakness. 
 But if it be wisdom, knowledge, and truth, I implore you by 
 
 108 
 
Ube Bppeal ot AMcfam 
 
 OTir love, nay, by the higher interests of your own soul, to Ube com(ng ot 
 follow my example. " *"' ^'^^^ 
 
 It was impossible to answer harshly to a remonstrance ex- 
 pressed with the overflowtag fondness of the heart : I could 
 only remiad her of the unchangeable promises made to Judaism. 
 
 " But it is of those promises I speak," urged she ; " we have 
 seen the day that our father Abraham longed to see; that 
 mighty Being, the Lord of eternity, the express image of the 
 glory of the Invisible, the hope of the patriarch, the promise 
 of the prophet, has come." 
 
 I was alarmed. 
 
 "Yet Israel is divided and enslaved, torn by capricious 
 tyranny, and hurrying to the common ruin of doomed nations. 
 Is this the triumphant kingdom of prophecy? " 
 
 "Salathiel, I have doubted like you; but I have been at 
 length convinced out of the mouths of the prophets them- 
 selves. Have they not declared that Israel should suffer be- 
 fore it triumphed, and suffer too for a period that strikes the 
 mind with terror? that the King of Israel should be excluded 
 from his kiagdom — nay, take upon him the form of a servant 
 — nay, die, and die by a death of pain and shame the death 
 of a slave and criminal? " 
 
 " It is so written. But it is beyond our power to reconcile." 
 
 "Pray then for the power, and it will be given to you. 
 Ask for the spirit of holy intelligence, and it will enlighten 
 you. Pride is the crime of our nation. Humility would take 
 the veil from the eyes of our people. Salathiel, my lord, the 
 being treasured in my heart! read the Scriptures. I have 
 prayed for you. Eead " 
 
 " But how can the promise of the kingdom be denied? It 
 is the theme first, last, and without end of all the inspired 
 masters of Israel. What splendor and reality of history was 
 ever more vivid and real than the glorious promises of Isaiah? " 
 I murmured. 
 
 " Yet what force and minuteness of picturing ever excelled 
 Isaiah's description of the lowliness, the obscurity, the rejec- 
 tion, the agonies, and the death of the Messiah? Why shall 
 we suppose that the one description is true and the other false? 
 
 109 
 
^HtVQ ^bou Uill IT Come 
 
 Satatbfel Has not the same inspiration given both? Why shall we 
 paganism conceive that the Messiah and His kingdom must appear to- 
 gether? We see the time of His first coming defined to a year, 
 by our great prophet Daniel. But where do we see the time 
 of the triumphant kingdom defined? Why may it not follow 
 at a distance of ages? We know that we shall stand at the 
 latter day upon the earth and in our flesh shall see God. Why 
 shall not the triumph be reserved for that day of glory? Are 
 our people now fit to be a nation of kings? Or are the best 
 of us, in the mortal feebleness of our nature, tit to share in a. 
 triumph in which angels are to minister? fit dwellers of a city 
 from which error and evil are to be excluded ; in which there 
 is to be no tear, no human suffering, no remembered bitter- 
 ness ; ' a city whose builder and maker is God ' ; within, whose 
 walls live holiness, power, and virtue ; on whose throne sits 
 the Omnipotent ! " 
 
 Sensations to which I dared not give utterance oppressed 
 me ; my crime, my fate, rose up before the mental eye. I 
 had no rmswer for this admirable woman. Her pure zeal and 
 her holiness of heart touched me deeply. But let no man 
 blame my stubbornness until he has weighed the influence of 
 feelings, born in a people, strengthened by their history, 
 reenforced by miracle, and authenticated by the words of in- 
 spiration. That Judaism was purity itseK to the worship and 
 morals of the pagan world, that it was the continued object 
 of a particular Providence, that it alone possessed the revela- 
 tions of God, were facts that defled doubt. And that those 
 high distinctions should be made void, and the slavish mind 
 of paganism be admitted into our privileges — still more, that 
 it should be admitted to the exclusion of the chosen line — 
 seemed to me a conclusion that no reasoning could substan- 
 tiate ; a fantastic and airy fiction to which no reasoning could 
 be applied. 
 
 The moon ascended in serenity, and her orb, slightly tinged 
 by the many-colored clouds that lay upon the horizon, threw 
 a faint silver upon the precipice. The sounds below were 
 hushed; the moving figures, the vessel, the sea, the cliffs, 
 were totally veiled in purple mist. We could not have been 
 
 110 
 
ITbe Bppeal ot jOSftiam 
 
 : more alone if we liad been seated on a cloud, and the beauty, Ube Secret ot a 
 the exalted gesture, and the glo-wing wisdom of the being be- ®"' 
 fore me were like those that we conceive of spirits delegated 
 to lead the disembodied mind upward from world to world. 
 A sea-bird winging its way above our heads broke the reverie. 
 I reminded my teacher that it grew late and our absence 
 might produce anxiety. 
 
 "Salathiel," said she, with mingled fervor and softness, 
 " you know I love you ; never was heart more fondly bound 
 to another than is mine to you. ^^ I am grateful for your per- 
 mission to receive Constantius into our tribe. But one obliga- 
 tion, infinitely dearer, you can confer on me — read this scroll. " 
 She drew from her bosom a letter, written to his church by 
 one of the Christian leaders in Asia. " I desire not to offend 
 your convictions, nor to hasten you into a rash adoption of 
 those of others. But in this scroll you will find philosophy 
 without its pride, and knowledge without its guile ; you will 
 find, furthermore, the disclosure of those mysteries which have 
 so long perplexed our people. Read, and may He who can 
 bring wisdom out of the lips of babes, and make the wisdom 
 of the wise foolishness, shed His light upon the generous heart 
 of my husband ! " 
 
 At another time I might have started in horror from this 
 avowal of her faith. But the scene, the circumstances, an 
 unaccoimtable internal impression — a voice of the soul, pro- 
 hibited me. I took her trembling hand, and without a word 
 led her down to our dwellrag. 
 
 lU 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 The Heart of Salome 
 
 Saiatbfei No tidings sooner make themselves known than those of the 
 tMmewarti heart. We found our daughters "waiting anxiously at the en- 
 trance of the cave, -which had been fitted up for our temporary- 
 shelter. Before a word could be exchanged, a glance from 
 Miriam told the success of her mission, and anxiety was 
 turned into delight. Esther danced round me and was elo- 
 quent in her gratitude. Salome shed silent tears, and when 
 I attempted to wipe them away, fell fainting iato my arms. 
 We spent a part of the night in the open air ; the last wine 
 and fruits of our store were brought out ; the Cypriot exiles 
 came down from their rocks ; the crew of the galley, already 
 on board, danced, sang, and drank to the success of the voy- 
 age ; and it was not till the moon, our only lamp, was about 
 to be extinguished in the waters, that we thought of closing 
 our final night on the Syrian shore. 
 
 We traveled along the coast as far as Berytus ; then turn- 
 ing to the eastward, crossed the Libanus and the mountain 
 country that branches into Upper Galilee. Our coming had 
 been long announced, and we found Eleazar, Jubal, and our 
 chief kinsmen waiting at one of the passes to lead us home in 
 triumph. The joy of our tribe was honest if it was tumultu- 
 ous, and many a shout disturbed the solitude as we moved 
 along. My impatience increased when we reached the well- 
 known hills that sheltered what was once my home. Yet I 
 remembered too keenly the shock of seeing its desolation not 
 to dread the first sight of the spot, and rode away from the 
 group at full speed that my nervousness might have time to 
 subside before their arrival. But at the foot of the last as- 
 cent I drew the rein. Every tree, eveiy bush, almost every 
 
 lis 
 
;rbe Ibeart of Salome 
 
 stone, had been familiar to me in my ■wanderings, and ■were » sucprufng 
 now painful memorials of the long malady of my mind. ffinauge 
 
 Eleazar, who watched me during the latter part of the 
 journey with something of a consciousness of my thoughts, 
 put spurs to his horse, and found me standing, pale and 
 palpitating. 
 
 " Come," said he, " we must not alarm Miriam by thinking 
 too much of the past ; let us try if the top of the hill wUl not 
 give us a better prospect than the bottom," 
 
 I shrank from the attempt. 
 
 "N"o!" said I; "the horror that the prospect once gave 
 me must not be renewed. Let us change the route, no matter 
 how far round; the sight of that ruin would distract me to 
 the last hour of my life." 
 
 He only smiled in reply, and catching my bridle, galloped 
 forward. A few seconds placed us on the summit of the hill. 
 Could I believe my eyes ! All below was as if rapine had 
 never been there. The gardens, the cattle, the dwellings, lay 
 a living picture under the eye. 
 
 " This is miracle ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No ; or it is but the miracle of a little activity and a 
 great deal of good will," was the answer of my companion. 
 " Your kinsmen did this at the time when you were slum- 
 bering with the wolf and bear in the Libanus ; Nature did her 
 part in coveriug your fields and gardens ; and those sheep and 
 cattle are a tribute of gratitude from your brother for the pres- 
 ervation of his life." 
 
 Our troop now ascended the height. The land lay beneath 
 them in the luxuriance of summer. They were ardent ia their 
 expressions of surprise and pleasure. We rushed down the 
 defile, and I was once more master of a home. Public events 
 had rapidly ripened in my absence." Popular wrath was 
 stimulated by increased exaction. Law was more palpably 
 perverted into insolence. Order was giving way on all sides. 
 ' The Roman garrisons, neglected and ill paid, were adopting 
 the desperate habits of the populace, and in the general scorn 
 of religion and right, the country was becoming a horde of 
 robbers. The ultimate causes of this singular degeneracy 
 
 « U3 
 
aiarrg tTbou UtII IT Come 
 
 Vbe Voiics of might be remote and set in action by a vengeance above maa ; 
 but the immediate causes -were plain to every eye. 
 
 The general priuciples of Eome in the government of her 
 conquests were manly and wise. When the soldier had done 
 his work — and it was done vigorously, yet with but little vio- 
 lence beyond that which was essential for complete subjuga- 
 tion — the sword slept as an instrument of evil, and awoke 
 only as an instrument of justice. 
 
 If neighboring kingdoms quarreled, a legion marched 
 across the border and brought the belligerents to sudden 
 reason; dismissed their armies to their hearths and altars, 
 and sent the angry chiefs to reconcile their claims in an 
 Italian dungeon. If a disputed succession threatened to em- 
 broU the general peace, the proconsul ordered the royal com- 
 petitors to embark for Eome, and there settle the right before 
 the senate. 
 
 The barbaric invasions which had periodically ravaged the 
 Eastern empires even in their day of power were repelled 
 with a terrible vigor. The legions left the desert covered 
 with the tribe for the feast of the vulture, and showed to 
 Europe the haughty leaders of the Tatar, Gothic, and Arab 
 myriads in fetters, dragging wains, digging in mines, or 
 sweeping the highways. 
 
 If peace could be an equivalent for freedom, the equivalent 
 was never so amply secured. The world within this iron 
 boundary flourished; the activity and talent of man were 
 urged to the highest pitch; the conquered countries were 
 turned from wastes and forests into fertility; ports were dug 
 upon naked shores ; cities swelled from villages ; population 
 spread over the soil once pestilential and breeding only the 
 weed and the serpent. The sea was covered with trade ; the 
 pirate and the marauder were unheard of or hunted down. 
 Commercial enterprise shot its lines and communications over 
 the map of the earth, and regions were then familiar which 
 even the activity of the revived ages of Europe has scarcely 
 made known. 
 
 Those were the wonders of great power steadily directed to 
 a great purpose. General coercion was the simple principle, 
 
 114 
 
TLbe Ibeatt ot Salome 
 
 and the only talisman of a Roman Emperor •was the chain, UbeBbsence of 
 except where it was casually commuted for the sword; the '"'"^ 
 universality of the compression atoned for half its evil. The 
 natural impulse of man is to improvement ; he requires only 
 security from rapiue. The Koman supremacy raised round 
 him an impregnable wall. It was the true government for an 
 era when the habits of reason had not penetrated the general 
 human mind. Its chief evil was in its restraint of those 
 nobler and loftier aspirations of genius and the heart which 
 from time to time raise the general scale of mankind. 
 
 Nothing is more observable than the decay of original 
 literature, of the finer architecture and of philosophical in- 
 vention, under the empire. Even military genius, the natural 
 product of a system that lived but on military fame, disap- 
 peared; the brilliant diversity of warlike talent that shone on 
 the very verge of the succession of the Caesars sank like fall- 
 ing stars, to rise no more. No captain was again to display 
 the splendid conception of Pompey's boundless campaigns; 
 the lavish heroism and inexhaustible resource of Antony; or 
 the mixture of undaunted personal enterprise and profound 
 tactic, the statesmanlike thought, generous ambition, and 
 high-minded pride that made Csesar the very emblem of Eome. 
 But the imperial power had the operation of one of those 
 great laws of nature which through partial evil sustain the 
 earth — a gravitating principle which, if it checked the ascent 
 of some gifted lacings beyond the dull level of life, yet kept 
 the infinite multitude of men and things from flying loose 
 beyond all utility and all control. 
 
 Yet it was only for a time. The empire was but the super- 
 structure of the republic, a richer, more luxuriant, and more 
 transitory object for the eye of the world, and the storm was 
 already gathering that was to shake it to the ground. The 
 corruptions of the palace first opened the imperial ruin. 
 They soon extended through every department of the state. 
 If the habitual fears of the tyrant in the midst of a headlong 
 populace could scarcely restrain him in Eome, what must 
 be the excesses of his minions where no fear was felt, where 
 icomplaiat was stifled by the dagger, and where the govem- 
 
 116 
 
TTarrg TTbou XTtll H Come 
 
 •Roman ment was bought with bribes, to be replaced only by licensed 
 rapine ! 
 
 The East was the chief victim. The vast northern and 
 western provinces of the empire pressed too closely on Home, 
 were too poor and too warlike to be the favorite objects of 
 Italian rapacity. There a new tax raised an insurrection; 
 the proconsular demand of a loan was answered by a flight 
 which stripped the land, or by the march of some unheard-of 
 tribe, pouring down from the desert to avenge their country- 
 men. The character, too, of the people, influenced the choice 
 of their governors. Brave and experienced soldiers, not 
 empty and vicious courtiers, must command the armies that 
 were thus liable to be hourly in battle, and on whose discipline 
 depended the slumbers of every pillow in Italy. Stern as is 
 the life of camps, it has its virtues, and men are taught con- 
 sideration for the feelings, rights, and resentments of man by 
 a teacher that makes its voice heard through the tumult of 
 battle and the pride of victory. But all was reversed in Asia, 
 remote, rich, habituated to despotism, divided in language, 
 religion, and blood ; with nothing of that fierce, yet generous 
 clanship, which made the Gaul of the Belgian marshes listen 
 to the trumpet of the Gaul of Narbonne, and the German of 
 the Vistula burn with the wrongs of the German of the Ehine. 
 Under Nero, Judea was devoured by Roman avarice. She 
 had not even the sad consolation of owing her evils to the 
 ravage of those nobler beasts of prey in human shape that 
 were to be found in the other provinces — she was devoured by 
 locusts. The polluted palace supplied her governors ; a slave 
 lifted into office by a fellow slave; a pampered profligate, 
 exhausted by the expenses of the capital ; a condemned and 
 notorious extortioner, with no other spot to hide his head, 
 were the gifts of Nero to my country. Pilate, Felix, Festus, 
 Albinus, Florus, a race more profligate and cruel as our catas- 
 trophe approached, tore the very bowels of the land. Of the 
 last two it was said that Albinus should have been grateful 
 to Florus for proving that he was not the basest of mankind, 
 by the evidence that a baser existed ; that he had a respect 
 for virtue by his condescending to commit those robberies 
 
 116 
 
^be "beact of Salome 
 
 in private ■wHchi Ms successor committed in public ; and that Ube ©iscowrs 
 he had human feeling by his abstaining from blood where °* ®a"8cc 
 he could gain nothing by murder; while Florus disdained 
 alike concealment and cause, and slaughtered for the public 
 pleasure of the sword! 
 
 A number of partial insurrections, easily suppressed, dis- 
 played the wrath of the people and indulged the cruelty of 
 the procurator. They indulged also his avarice. Defeat was 
 followed by confiscation ; and Plorus even boasted that he de- 
 sired nothing more prosperous than insurrection in every vil- 
 lage of Judea. He was about to be gratified before he had 
 prepared himself for this luxury ! 
 
 A menial in my house was detected with letters from an 
 agent of the Eoman governor. They required details of my 
 habits and resources, which satisfied me that I had become an 
 object of vengeance. From the time of my return I had seen 
 with bitterness of soul the insults to my country. I had 
 summoned my friends to ascertain what might be our means 
 of resistance, and found them as willing and devoted as be- 
 came men ; but our resources for more than the first burst of 
 popular wrath, the seizure of some petty Roman garrison, or 
 the capture of a convoy, were nothing. The jealousies of the 
 chief men of the tribes, the terrors of Rome, the positions of 
 the Roman troops, cutting off military communication between 
 the north and south of Judea, made the attempt hopeless, and 
 it was abandoned for the time. Even those letters which 
 marked me for a victim made no change in my determination 
 that if I could not escape danger by individual means, no 
 pubHe blood should be laid to my charge. For a few months 
 all was tranquil ; the habits of rural life are calculated to keep 
 depressing thoughts at a distance. My wife and daughters 
 returned to their graceful pursuits, with the added pleasure 
 of novelty after so long a cessation. I hunted through the 
 billa with Constantius, or, traversing the country which 
 might yet be the scene of events, availed myself of the knowl- 
 edge of a master of the whole science of Roman war. 
 
 At home the works of the great poets of the West, with 
 whom our guest had made us familiar, varied the hours ; but 
 
 117 
 
Glarrg XLboa XllU H Come 
 
 Saiatbfci'3 I found a still more stirring and congenial interest in the his-i 
 tot ibfstors tories of Greek valor, and in the study of the mighty minds, 
 that made and unmade empires. 
 
 With the touching and picturesque narrative of Herodotus 
 in my hand, I pantingly followed the adventures of the most 
 brilliant of nations. I fought the battle with them against 
 the Persian ; I saw them gathered in little startled groups on 
 the hills, or flying in their little galleys from island to island, 
 the land deserted, the sea covered with fugitives ; the Persian 
 fleets loaded with Asiatic pomp, darkening the waters like a 
 thunder-cloud — and in a moment all changed ! The millions 
 of Asia scattered like dust before the wind — Greece lifted to 
 the height of martial glory, and commencing a career of 
 triumph still more illustrious, that triumph of the miiid in 
 which, through the remotest vicissitudes of earth, she was to 
 have no conqueror. 
 
 I especially and passionately pursued the campaigns of that 
 extraordinary man Arrian, whose valor, vanity, and fortune 
 make him one of the landmarks of human nature. In Alex- 
 ander I delighted in tracing the native form of the Greek 
 through the embroidered robes of royalty and triumph. In' 
 his romantic intrepidity and deliberate science, his alternations 
 of profound thought and fantastic folly, the passion for praise 
 and the contempt for its offerers, the rash temper and the 
 noble magnanimity, the love for the arts and the thirst for 
 that perpetual war before which they fly, the philosophic 
 scorn of privation and the feeble lapses into self-indulgence ; 
 the generous forecast, which peopled deserts and founded 
 cities, and the giddy and fatal neglect which left his diadem 
 to be fought for and his family to be the prey of rival rebel- 
 lions, — I saw the true man of the republic ; not the lord of the 
 rugged hills of Macedon, but the Athenian of the day of 
 popular splendor and folly, with only the difference of the 
 scepter. 
 
 To me those studies were like a new door opened into the 
 boundless palace of human nature. I felt that sense of 
 novelty, vigor, and fresh life that the frame feels in breathing 
 the morning air over the landscape of a new country. It was 
 
 118 
 
Ube tjeart ot Salome 
 
 ;a Toy age on an unknown sea, where every headland admin- steajat'a 
 isters to the delight of curiosity. In this there was nothing sco^uw 
 of the common pedantry of the schools. My knowledge of 
 life had hitherto been limited by my original destination. A 
 Jew and a priest, there was but one solemn avenue through 
 which I was to see the glimpses of the external world. The 
 vista was now opened beyond all limit ; visions of conquest, 
 of honor among nations, of praise to the last posterity, clus- 
 tered round my head. There were times when in this exulta- 
 tion even my doom was forgotten. The momentary oblivion 
 may have been permitted merely to blunt the edge of incurable 
 misfortune. I was permitted at intervals to recruit the 
 strength that was to be tried till the end of time. 
 
 I was one day immersed in Polybius, with my master in 
 soldiership at my side, guiding me by his living comment 
 through the wonders of the Punic campaigns, when Eleazar 
 entered, with a look that implied his coming on a matter of 
 importance. Constantius rose to withdraw. 
 
 "No," said my brother, "the subject of my mission is one 
 that should not be concealed from the preserver of our 
 kindred. It may be one of happiness to us all. Salome has 
 arrived at the age when the daughters of Israel marry. She 
 must give way to our general wish and play the matron at 
 last." 
 
 He turned with a smile to Constantius, and asked his assent 
 to the opinion; he received no answer. The young Greek 
 had plunged more deeply than ever into the passage of the 
 Alps. 
 
 "And who is the suitor? " I inquired. 
 
 "One worthy of her and you. A generous, bold, warm- 
 hearted kinsman, in the spring of life, sufficiently opulent, for 
 he will probably be my heir, prepared to honor you, and, I 
 believe, long and deeply attached to her." 
 
 " Jubal ! There is not a man in our tribe to whom I would 
 more gladly give her. Let my friend Jubal come. Congratu- 
 late me, Constantius ; you shall now at last see festivity in 
 our land in scorn of the Eoman. You have seen us in flight 
 and captivity ; you shall now witness some of the happiness 
 
 119 
 
Z&xvs ^bou ^ill t Come 
 
 Subai'g that was in Judah before we knew the flapping of an Italian 
 "" banner, and wbicli shall be, if fortune smile, when Eome is 
 like Babylon." 
 
 Constantius suddenly rose from his volume, and thrusting 
 it within the folds of his tunic, was leaving the apartment. 
 
 "No," said I, "you must remain; Miriam and Salome shall 
 be sent for, and in your presence the contract signed." 
 
 For the first time I perceived the excessive pallidness of his 
 countenance, and asked whether I had not trespassed too much 
 on his patience with my studies. 
 
 His only reply was : " Is there no liberty of choice ia the 
 marriages of Israel? Will you decide without consulting her, 
 whom this contract is to render happy or miserable while she 
 lives? " He rushed from the room. 
 
 Miriam came — but alone. Her daughter had wandered out 
 into one of our many gardens. She received Eleazar with 
 sisterly fondness, but her features wore the air of constraint. 
 She heard the mission, but " she had no opinion to give in the 
 absence of Salome. She knew too well the happiness of hav- 
 ing chosen for herself to wish to force the consent of her 
 child. Let Salome be consulted." 
 
 The flourish of music and the trampling of horses broke 
 up our reluctant conference. Jubal had already come with 
 a crowd of his friends. We hastened to receive him at the 
 porch, and he bounded into the court on his richly caparisoned 
 barb, at the head of a troop in festal habiliments. 
 
 The men of Israel loved pomp of dress and handsome steeds. 
 The group before me might have made a body-guard for a 
 Persian king. Jubal had long looked on my daughter with 
 the admiration due to her singular beauty ; it was the custom 
 to wed within our tribe ; he was the favorite and the heir of 
 her uncle ; she had never absolutely banished him from her 
 presence, and in the buoyancy of natural spirits, the boldness 
 of a temperament bom for a soldier, and perhaps in the al- 
 lowable consciousness of a showy form, he had admitted none 
 of the perplexities of a trembling lover. Salome was at length 
 announced, and the proposed husband was left to plead his 
 own cause. 
 
 120 
 
CHAPTER XVn 
 <A ^ecUraiion of Love 
 
 We received the friends of our intended son with the ac- Saiatbiei ®veta 
 customed hospitality, but to me the tumult of many voices, ^"* ^ "*"' 
 and even the sight of a crowd, however happy, still excited 
 the old disturbances of a shaken mind. 
 
 I left my guests to the care of Eleazar, and galloped into 
 the fields to gather composure from the air of fruits and 
 flowers. A homeward glance showed me, to my surprise, the 
 whole troop mounted, and in another moment at speed across 
 the hills. I hastened back. Miriam met me. My kinsman 
 had openly disclaimed my alliance. 
 
 Indignant and disappointed, I prepared to follow him and 
 demand the cause of this insult. As I passed one of the 
 pavilions, my daughter's voice arrested me. She was talking 
 to Constantius. Scorning mere curiosity, I yet was anxious 
 for sincere explanation. I felt that if Salome had a wish 
 which she feared to divulge to her father, this was my only 
 hope of obtaining the knowledge. The voices were low, and 
 I could, for a while, catch but a broken sentence. 
 
 "I owed it to him," said she, "not to deceive his partiality. 
 He offered all that it could have done a Jewish maiden honor 
 to receive — his heart, hand, and fortune." 
 
 "And you rejected them all?" said Constantius. "Have 
 you no regrets for the lover — no fears of the father? " 
 
 "For the lover I had too high an esteem to give him a 
 promise which I could not keep. I knew his generous nature. 
 T told him at once that there was an invincible obstacle ! " 
 
 "I should like incomparably to know what that obstacle 
 could be? " said Constantius. 
 
 Astonishment fixed me to the spot. I was unable to move 
 .a. step. 
 
 131 
 
Uartg XLbou ttill IF Come 
 
 ConetanHusans The natural playfulness of the sweet and light-hearted girl 
 became manifest, and she replied "that a philosopher ought 
 to know all things without questioning." 
 
 "But there is much in the world that defies philosophy, my 
 fair Salome ; and of all its problems, the most perplexing is 
 the mind of woman ! — of young, lovely, dangerous woman ! " 
 
 "Now, Constantius, you abandon the philosopher and play 
 the poet." 
 
 "Yet without the poet's imagination. No; I need picture 
 no beauty from the clouds — no nymph from the fountains — 
 no loveliness that haunts the trees, and breathes more than 
 mortal melody on the ear. Salome! my muse is before me." 
 
 "You are a Greek," said she, after a slight interval, "and 
 Greeks are privileged to talk — and to deceive." 
 
 " Salome ! I am a Greek no longer. What I shall yet be 
 may depend upon the fairest artist that ever fashioned the 
 human mind. But mine are not the words of inexperience. 
 I am on this day five-and-twenty years old. My life has led 
 me into all that is various in the intercourse of earth. I have 
 seen woman in her beauty, in her talent, in her art, in her 
 accomplishment ; from the cottage to the throne — but I never 
 felt her real power before." 
 
 " Which am I to believe — the possible or the impossible? 
 A soldier! a noble! a Greek! and of all Greeks, one of 
 Cyprus ! the offerer of your eloquence at every shrine where 
 your own lovely countrywomen stood by the altar! — I too 
 have seen the world." 
 
 " May all the Graces forbid that you should ever see it, but 
 what it would be made by such as you — a place of gentleness 
 and harmony — a place of fondness and innocence — a paradise ! " 
 
 "Now you are further from the philosopher than ever; but 
 — I must listen no more ; the sun is taking its leave of us, and 
 blushing its last through the vines for all the fine romance 
 that it has heard from Constantius. Farewell, philosophy." 
 
 "Then farewell, philosophy," said Constantius, and caught 
 her hand as she was lightly moving from the pavilion. He 
 led her toward the casement. " Then farewell, philosophy, 
 my sweet; and welcome truth, virtue, and nature. I loved 
 
 128 
 
B Declaration of Xove 
 
 ; you in your captivity ; I loved you in your freedom ; on the Ube %ove 
 sea, on the shore, ia the desert, in your home, I loved you. * ""* " "* 
 In life I will love you, in death we shall not be divided. 
 This is not the language of mere admiration, the rapture of a 
 fancy dazzled by the bright eyes of my Salome. It is the 
 language of reason, of sacred truth, of honor bound by higher 
 than human bonds; of fondness that even the tomb will 
 render only more ardent and sublime. Here, in the sight of 
 Heaven, I pledge an immortal to an immortal." 
 
 Astonishment and grief alone prevented my exclaiming 
 aloud against this bond on the affections of my child. The 
 marriage of the Israelite with the stranger was prohibited by 
 our law, and still more severely prohibited by the later ordi- 
 nances of our teachers. But marriage with a fugitive, an 
 alien, a son of the idolater, whose proselytism had never been 
 avowed, and whose skill in the ways of the world might be at 
 this hour undermining the peace or the faith of my whole 
 family — the idea was tenfold profanation ! I checked myself 
 only to have complete evidence. 
 
 ••'But," said my daughter, in a voice mingled with many 
 a sigh, "if this should become known to my father — and 
 known it must be — how can we hope for his consent? Now, 
 Constantius, you will have to learn what it is to deal with 
 our nation. We have prejudices, lofty, tho blind — indis- 
 soluble, tho fantastic. My father's consent is beyond all 
 hope." 
 
 "He is honorable — he has human feeling — he loves you." 
 
 " Fondly, I believe, and I must not thus return his love ; 
 no, tho my happiness were to be the forfeit, I must not pain 
 his heart by the disobedience of his child." 
 
 " But Salome, my sweet Salome ! are obstinacy and preju- 
 dice to be obeyed against the understanding and the heart? 
 Can a father counsel his child to a crime, and would it not be 
 one to give your faith to this Jubal, if you could not love 
 him?" 
 
 "I have decided that already. Never will I wed Jubal." 
 
 " Yet what is it that you would disobey— a cruel and fan- 
 tastic scruple of your teachers, the perverters of your law? 
 
 133 
 
XLatvs Ubou trtll IT Come 
 
 SaiatMei'* Bsa Must yre sacrifice reason to prejudice, truth to caprice, the 
 law of nature and of heaven to the forgeries and follies of the 
 Scribes? Mine you are, and mine you shall be, my wife by a 
 law more sacred, more powerful, and more pure. The time 
 of bondage is passed. A new law, a new hope, have come to 
 break the chains of the Jew and enlighten the darkness of 
 the Gentile. Tou have heard that law ; your generous heart 
 and unclouded understanding have received it, and now by 
 that common hope, my beloved, we are one, tho seas and 
 mountains should separate us — tho the malice of fortune 
 and the tyranny of man should forbid our union ; still, in 
 flight, in the dungeon, in the last hour of a troubled existence, 
 we are one. Now, Salome, I will go, but go to seek your 
 father." 
 
 My indignation rose to its height. I had heard my child 
 taught to rebel. I had heard myself pronounced the slave of 
 prejudice. But the open declaration that my authority was 
 to be to my child a law no more let loose the whole storm of 
 my soul. I rushed forward ; Salome uttered a cry and sank 
 senseless upon the ground. Constantius raised her up and 
 bore her to a vase, from which he sprinkled water upon her 
 forehead. 
 
 " Leave her ! " I exclaimed ; " better for her to remain in 
 that insensibility, better to be dead than an apostate. Villain, 
 begone! it is only in scorn that a father's vengeance suffers 
 you to live. Fly from this house, from this country. Go, 
 traitor, and let me never see you more." 
 
 I tore the fainting girl from his arms. He made no resist- 
 ance, no reply. Salome recovered with a gush of tears, and 
 feebly pronounced his name. 
 
 "I am with you still, my love," Constantius assured 
 her. 
 
 She looked up and, as if she had then first seen me, sprang 
 forward with a look of terror. 
 
 "Go," said I, "go to your chamber, weak girl, and on 
 your knees, atone for your disobedience, for your abandonment 
 of the faith of your fathers. But no, it is impossible ; you 
 can not have been so guilty; this Greek — this foreign bringer- 
 
 124 
 
B 2>eclatation ot Xove 
 
 in of fables — this smooth intruder on the peace of families, ube TOitatb ol 
 can not have so triumphed over your understanding." " " 
 
 "I have been rash, sir," said Constantius loftily; "I may 
 have been unwise, too, in my language ; but I have been no 
 deceiver. Not for the wealth of kings — not even for the more 
 precious treasure of the heart I love — would I sully my lips 
 with a falsehood." 
 
 "Begone!" cried I; "I am insulted by your presence. Go 
 and pervert others — hypocrite ; or rather, take my contemptu- 
 ous forgiveness and repent, in sackcloth and ashes, the basest 
 crime of the basest mind. Come, daughter, and leave the 
 baffled idolater to think of his crime." 
 
 I was leading her away — she hesitated, and I cast her from 
 me. Constantius, with his cheek burning and his eye flash- 
 ing, approached her. My taunts had at length roused him. 
 
 "Now, Salome," said he, haughtily glancing on me, "in- 
 jured as I am, I disclaim an idle deference for an authority 
 used only to give pain. You are my betrothed; you shall 
 be my bride. Let us go forth and try our chance together 
 through the world." 
 
 She was silent and wept only more violently. But with 
 one hand covering her face, she repelled him with the other. 
 
 " Then you wUl be the wife of Jubal? " said he. 
 
 "Never!" she firmly pronounced. "So help me heaven, 
 never ! " 
 
 "Retire, girl," I exclaimed, "and weep tears of blood for 
 your rebellion! Go, stranger — ingrate — deceiver — and never 
 darken my threshold more. Aye, now I see the cause of my 
 brave kinsman's departure. He was circumvented. A wilier 
 tongue was here before him. He disdained to reveal the 
 daughter's folly to the insulted father. But this sh^ll not 
 avai either of you. He shall return." 
 
 Salome cast an imploring glance to heaven and sank upon 
 her knees before me. Constantius advanced to her; but I 
 bounded between them — my dagger was drawn. 
 
 "Touch her, and you die." 
 
 He smiled scornfully, and approached to raise her from 
 the ground. 
 
 isa 
 
^acrs tSbovL ^ill IF dome 
 
 iSalatbiei Seeiis "Give that ■wretclied child up to me this moment," I ex- 
 claimed in fury, "or may the bitterness of a father's curse be 
 on her head! " 
 
 He staggered back; then pressing his lips upon her fore- 
 head, gave her to me and strode from the pavilion. 
 
 I flew to the house of Eleazar. I found him anxious and 
 agitated. Calm as his usual manner -was, the late transaction 
 had left its traces on his demeanor and countenance. Jubal 
 was in the apartment, which he traversed backward and for- 
 ward in high indignation. He made no return to my salute 
 but by stopping short and gazing full on me with a look of 
 mingled anger and surprise. 
 
 "Jubal," said I, "kinsman, we must be friends." I held 
 out my hand, which he took with no fervent pressure. " I 
 am here only to explain this idle offense." 
 
 "It requires no explanation," interrupted Jubal sternly; 
 "I, and I alone, am to blame — if there be any one to blame 
 in the matter. The offer may have been hasty, or unwelcome, 
 or unpardonable, from one like me, still without rank in the 
 tribe ; it may have been fit that I should be haughtily rejected 
 by the family of the descendant of Aaron; but," said he, 
 pressing his strong hand upon his throat, as if to keep down 
 a burst of passion, " the subject is at an end — now and for- 
 ever at an end." 
 
 He recommenced his striding through the chamber. 
 
 "Let us hear all, my friend," said I; "I know that Salome 
 thinks highly of your spirit and of your heart. Was there any 
 palliation offered? Did she disclose any secret reason for a 
 conduct which is so opposite to her natural regard for you, 
 and which, she must feel, is so offensive to me? But insult 
 from my family, impossible ! " 
 
 "Hear, then. I had not alighted from my horse when I 
 saw displeasure written in the face of every female in your 
 household. From the very handmaids up to their mistress, 
 they had, with the instinct of woman, discovered my object, 
 and, with the usual deliberation of the sex, had made up their 
 minds without hearing a syllable. Tour wife received me, it 
 is true, with the grace that belongs to her above women, but 
 
 126 
 
% declaration of %ovc 
 
 site was visibly cold. My kinswoman Esther absolutely constantius 
 shrank from me and scorned to return a word. Salome fled. 
 As for the attendants, they frowned and muttered at me in all 
 directions, with the most candid wrath possible. In short, I 
 could not have fared worse had I been a Eoman come to take 
 possession, or an Arab riding up to rifle every soul in the 
 house." 
 
 " Ominous enough ! " said Eleazar, with his grave smile. 
 "The opinions of the sex are irresistible. With half my 
 knowledge of them, Jubal, you would have turned your horse's 
 head homeward at once, and given up your hopes of a bride at 
 least till the next day, or the next hour, or whatever may be 
 the usual time for the sex's change of mind. Cheer up, kins- 
 man ; caparison yourself in another dress, let time do its work 
 — ride over to Salathiel's dwelling to-morrow and find a smile 
 for every frown of to-day." 
 
 "But you saw Salome! " said I, "I am impatient to hear 
 how she could have ventured to offend. Could she dare to 
 refuse my brother's request without a reason? " 
 
 "Ko; her conduct was altogether without disguise. She 
 first tried to laugh me out of my purpose, then argued, then 
 wept; and finally, told me that our alliance was impossible." 
 
 "Eash girl! but she has been led into this foUy by others; 
 yet the chief folly was my own. Aye, my eyes were dim, 
 where a mole would have seen. I suffered a showy, plausible 
 villain to remain under my roof till he has, by what arts I 
 know not, wiled away the duty and the understajiding — nay, 
 I fear, the religion of my child." I smote my breast in sor- 
 row and humiliation. 
 
 Jubal burst from the apartment and returned with his lance 
 in his hand, quivering with wrath. 
 
 "Now all is cleared," cried he; "the true cause was the 
 magic of that idolater. I know the arts of paganism to be- 
 witch the senses of woman — ^the incantations, the perfumes, 
 the midnight fires, and images and songs. But let him come 
 within the throw of this javelin and then try whether all his 
 magic can shield him." 
 
 Eleazar grasped his robe as he was again rushing out 
 
 137 
 
Uatcs dbou OiiU f Come 
 
 Biea3ac'» " Stop, madman ! Is it witt hands dipped in blood that you 
 are to solicit the heart of Salome? Give me that horrid 
 ■weapon ; and you, Salathiel, curb your wild spirit and listen 
 to a brother who can have no interest but in the happiness of 
 both and all. If Salome, whom I loved an infant on the 
 knee and love to this moment, the most ingenuous and happy- 
 hearted being on earth, has been betrayed into a fondness for 
 this stranger, have we the right to force her inclinations? I 
 know the depth of understanding that lies under her playful- 
 ness ; can she have been deceived, and least of all by those 
 arts? Impossible! If she has sacrificed her obedience to the 
 noble form and high accomplishments of the Greek, we can 
 only lament her exposure to a captivation made to subdue the 
 heart of woman since the world began." 
 
 " Jubal, " interrupted I, " give me that manly and honest 
 hand; Eleazar's wisdom is too calm to understand a father or 
 a lover. You shall return with me, you shall be my son ; 
 Salathiel has no other. This foolish girl will be sorry for her 
 follies and rejoice to receive you. The Greek is driven from 
 my house. And let me see who there will henceforth disobey. " 
 The lover's face brightened with joy. 
 
 "Well, make your experiment," said Eleazar, rising. "So 
 ends all councils of war in more confusion than they began. 
 But if I had a wife and daughters " 
 
 " Of course you would manage them to perfection. So say 
 all who have never had either." 
 
 Eleazar's cheek colored slightly; but with his recovering 
 smile of benevolence he followed us to the porch, and wished 
 us success in our expedition. 
 
 We found the household tranquillized again. Miriam re- 
 ceived me with one of those radiant smiles that are a hus- 
 band's best welcome home. She had succeeded in calming 
 the minds of her daughters, and — a much more difficult task — 
 in suppressing the wrath of the numerous female domestics 
 who had, as usual, constructed out of the graces of the Greek 
 and the beauty of Salome a little romance of their own. In 
 the whole course of my life I never met a female, from the 
 flat-nosed and ebony-colored monster of the tropics to the snow- 
 
 138 
 
a Beclacation ot Hove 
 
 white and sublime divinity of a Greek isle, without a touch of n ffetcO) se* 
 romance; repulsiveness could not conceal it, age could not 
 extinguish it, vicissitude could not change it. I have found 
 it in all times and places, like a spring of fresh waters start- 
 ing up even from the flint, cheering the cheerless, softenmg 
 the insensible, renovating the withered ; a secret whisper in 
 the ear of every woman alive, that to the last, passion might 
 flutter its pinions round her brow. The strong prejudices of 
 our nation had here given way, rebellion was but hushed, and 
 I was warned by many a look of the unwelcome suitor that 
 1 brought among them. 
 
 But from Salome there was no remonstrance. I should 
 have listened to none. The consciousness of my own want 
 of judgment ia suffering a man so calculated to attract the 
 eye of innocent youth to become an iumate iu my house ; the 
 vexation which I felt at the dismissal of my brother's heir; 
 and last and keenest pang, the inroad made in the faith of 
 a daughter of Israel, combined to exasperate me beyond the 
 bounds of patience. I loved my child with the strongest 
 affection of a heart rocked by all the tides of passion ; but I 
 could bear to look upon the pale beauty of her face — nay, iu 
 the wrath of the hour, could have seen her borne to the grave 
 — rather than permit the command to be disputed by which 
 she was to wed in our tribe. 
 
 To shorten a period of which I felt the full bitterness, the 
 marriage preparations were hurried on. Never was the cere- 
 mony anticipated with less j oy ; we were all unhappy. Eleazar 
 remonstrated, but in vain/ Jubal retracted, but I compelled 
 him. to adhere to his proposal. Miriam was closeted perpetu- 
 ally with the betrothed, and of the whole household Esther 
 alone walked or talked with me, and it was then only to give 
 me descriptions of her sister's misery or to pursue me through 
 the endless mazes of argument on the hardship of being forced 
 to be happy. The preparations proceeded. The piece of 
 silver was given, the contracts were signed, the presents of 
 both families were made ; the portion was agreed upon. It 
 was not customary to require the appearance of the bride until 
 the celebration itself, and Salome was invisible during those 
 
 fi 129 
 
ITacrs Ubou ZUl V Come 
 
 Cbt jfiiflbtof days of activity in which, however, I took the chief interest, 
 for nothing could be further from zeal than the conduct of the 
 other agents, Jubal alone excepted. He had regained the 
 easily recovered confidence of youth, and perhaps prided him- 
 self on the triumph over a rival so formidable. Two or three 
 petitions for an interview came to me from my daughter. But 
 I knew their purport, and steadily determined not to hazard 
 the temptation of her tears. 
 
 The day came, and with it the guests ; our dwelling was 
 full of banquetiag. The evening arrived when the ceremony 
 was to be performed and the bride led home to her husband's 
 house in the usual triumph. One of our customs was that a 
 procession of the bridegroom's younger friends, male and 
 female, should be formed outside the house to wait for the 
 coming forth of the married pair. The ceremony was bor- 
 rowed by other nations ; but in our bright climate and cloud- 
 less nights, the profusion of lamps and torches, the burning 
 perfumes, glittering dresses, and fantastic joy of the dancing 
 and singing crowd, had unequaled liveliness and beauty. I 
 remained at my easement, gazing on the brilliant escort that, 
 as it gathered and arranged itself along the gardens, looked 
 like a flight of glow-worms. But no marriage summons came. 
 I grew impatient. My only answer was the sight of Jubal 
 rushing from the house and an outcry among the women. 
 Salome was not to be found ! She had been left by herself 
 for a few hours, as was the custom, to arrange her thoughts 
 for a ceremony which we considered religious in the highest 
 degree. On the bridegroom's arrival, she had disappeared! 
 
 The blow struck me deep. Had I driven her into the arms 
 of the Greek by my severity? Had I driven her out of her 
 senses, or out of life? Conjecture on conjecture stung me. 
 I reprobated my own cruelty, refused consolation, and spent 
 the night in alternate self-upbraidings and prayers for my un- 
 happy child. 
 
 Search was indefatigably made. The fiery jealousy of 
 Jubal, the manly anxiety of Eleazar, the hurt feelings of out 
 tribe, insulted by the possibility that their chieftain's heir 
 should have been scorned, and that the triumph should be to 
 
 130 
 
fl 2>eclatatfon of %ove 
 
 an alien, ■vrere all embarked in the pursuit. But search was Ube Seatcb ( 
 in vaia j and after days and nights of weariness, I returned to " 
 
 my home, there to be met by sorrowing faces, ajid to feel that 
 every tear was forced by my own obstinacy. I shrank into 
 solitude. I exclaimed that the Tengeance, the more than 
 vengeance of my crime, had struck its heaviest blow on me in 
 the loss of my child. 
 
 181 
 
CHAPTER XVffl 
 Salaihiet Faces a Ifprnan 
 
 Pi^jf I WAS in one of those fits of abstraction, revolving the 
 
 misery in which my beloved daughter might be, if indeed she 
 •were in existence, when the door of my chamber opened softly 
 and one of my domestics appeared, making a signal of silence. 
 This was he whom I had detected in correspondence with the 
 Roman agent and forgiven through the entreaties of Miriam. 
 The man had since shown remarkable interest in the recovery 
 of my daughter, and thus completely reinstated himself. He 
 knelt before me, and with more humility than I desired, im- 
 plored my pardon for having again held intercourse with the 
 Eoman. 
 
 "It was my zeal," said he, "to gain intelligence, for I 
 knew that nothing passed in the provinces a secret from him. 
 This letter is his answer, and perhaps I shall be forgiven. for 
 the sake of what it contains. " 
 
 I read it with trembling avidity. It was mysterious ; de- 
 scribed two fugitives who had made their escape to Csesarea, and 
 intimated that as they were about to fly into Asia Minor, the 
 pursuit must be immediate and conducted with the utmost 
 secrecy. 
 
 I was instantly on horseback. Dreading to disturb my 
 family by false hopes, I ordered out my hounds, ranged the 
 hills in sight of my dwelling ; and then turning off, struck in 
 the spur, and attended only by the domestic, went full speed 
 to Caesarea. From the summit of Mount Carmel I looked 
 down upon the city and the broad Mediterranean. But my 
 eyes then felt no delight in the grandeur of art or nature. 
 The pompous structures on which Herod the Great had ex- 
 pended a treasure beyond count, and which the residence of 
 the governor made the Roman capital of Judea, were to me 
 but so many dens and dungeons in which my child might be 
 
Salalbtel tfaces a IRoman 
 
 hidden. The sea showed me only the path by which she might sseiore 
 have been borne away, or the grave in which her wanderings ^'° "* *'"* 
 were to close. 
 
 By extraordinary speed I entered the gates just as the 
 trumpet was sounding for their close. My attendant went 
 forth to obtain information, and I was left pacing my chamber, 
 to which I had been brought in feverish suspense. I did not 
 suffer it long. The door opened, and a group of soldiers or- 
 dered me to follow them. Kesistauce was useless. They led 
 me to the palace. There I was delivered from guard to guard, 
 through a long succession of apartments, nntil we reached the 
 door of a banqueting-room. The festivity within was high, 
 and if I could have then sympathized with singing and 
 laughter, I might have had full indulgence during the im- 
 measurable hour that I lingered out, a broken wretch, ex- 
 hausted by desperate effort, sick at heart, and of course eager 
 for the result of an interview with the Roman procurator, a 
 man whose name was equivalent to vice, extortion, and love 
 of blood throughout Judea. 
 
 At length the feast was at an end. I was summoned, and 
 for the first time saw Gessius Florus," a little bloated figure, 
 with a countenance that to the casual observer was the model 
 of gross good-nature, a twinkling eye, and a lip on the per- 
 petual laugh. His bald forehead wore a wreath of flowers, 
 and his tunic and the couch on which he lay breathed perfume. 
 The table before him was a long vista of sculptured cups, 
 and golden vases and candelabra. 
 
 "I am sorry to have detained you so long," said he, "but 
 this was the Emperor's birthday, and as good subjects we 
 have kept it accordingly." 
 
 During this speech he was engaged in contemplating the 
 wine-bubbles as they sparkled above the brim of a large 
 amethystine goblet. A pale and delicate Italian boy, sumptu- 
 ously dressed, the only one of the guests who remained, per- 
 ceiving that I was fatigued, filled a cup and presented it. 
 
 "Eight, Septimius," said the debauchee; "make the Jew 
 drink the Emperor's health." 
 
 The youth bowed gracefully before me, and again offered the 
 
 133 
 
^arts ^bou trill 1 Gome 
 
 Ube cup ; but the time was not for indulgence, and I laid it an the 
 Slots table. 
 
 " Here's long life and glory to Nero Claudius Caesar, our 
 pious, merciful, and invincible Emperor ! " cried Floras, and 
 only when he had drunk to the bottom of the goblet, found 
 leisure to look upon his prisoner. 
 
 He either felt or affected surprise, and, turning to his young 
 companion, said: "By Hercules, boy, what grand fellows 
 those Jews make ! The helmet is nothing to the turban, after 
 all. What magnificence of beard! No Italian chin has the 
 vigor to grow anything so superb; then the neck, like the 
 bull of Milo ; and those blazing eyes ! If I had but a legion 
 of such spearsmen " 
 
 I grew impatient and said: "I stand here, procurator, in 
 your bonds. ' I demand why? I have business that requires 
 my instant attention and I desire to be gone." 
 
 "lifow have I treated you so inhospitably," said he, laugh- 
 ing, "that you expect I shaU finish by shutting my doors upon 
 you at this time of night? " He glanced upon his tablets and 
 read my name. "Aye," said he, "and after I had been so 
 long wishing for the honor of your company. Jew, take your 
 wine and sit down upon that couch, and tell me what brought 
 you to Caesarea." 
 
 I told him briefly the circumstances. He roared with 
 laughter, desired me to repeat them, and swore that "By all 
 the gods ! it was the very best piece of pleasantry he had 
 heard since he set foot in Judea." I stood up in irrepressible 
 indignation. 
 
 " What ! " said he, " will you go without hearing my story in 
 return? " 
 
 He filled his goblet again to the brim, buried his purple 
 visage in a vase of roses, and having inhaled the fragrance, 
 and chosen an easy posture, said coldly: "Jew, you have 
 told me a most excellent story, and it is only fair that 1 
 should tell you one ia return ; not half so amusing, I admit, 
 but to the full as true. Jew, you are a traitor! " I started 
 back. "Jew," said he, "you must in common civility 
 hear me out. The trath is, that your visit has been so often 
 
 181 
 
Salatbiel jfaces a IRoman 
 
 anticipated and so long delayed that I can not bear to part Ube rase «t tbc 
 •with you yet; you are an apostate; you encourage those *'"*'' 
 Christian dogs. Why does the man stare? You are in com- 
 munication -with rebels, and I might have had the honor of 
 meeting you in the field, if you had not put yourself into my 
 hands in Caesarea." 
 
 He pronounced those words of death in the most tranquil 
 tone; not a muscle moved; the cup which he held brimful in 
 his hand never overflowed. 
 
 " Jew," said he, " now be honest, and so far set an example 
 to your nation. Where is the money that has been gathered 
 for this rebellion? You are too sagacious a soldier to think 
 of going to war without the mainspring of the machine." 
 
 I scorned to deny the intended insurrection, but " money 
 I had collected none." 
 
 "Then," said he, "you are now compelling me to a meas- 
 ure which I do not like. Ho ! guard ! " A soldier presented 
 himself. "Desire that the rack shall be got ready." The 
 man retired. "You see, Jew, this is all your own doing. 
 Give up the money, and I give up the rack. And the sur- 
 render of the coin is asked merely in compassion to yourselves, 
 for without it you can not rebel, and the more you rebel the 
 more you will be beaten." 
 
 "Beware, Gessius Morns," I exclaimed; "beware! I am 
 your prisoner, entrapped, as I now see, by a villain, or by the 
 greater villain who corrupted him. You may rack me if you 
 will ; you may insult my feelings, tear my flesh, take my life, 
 but for this there shall be retribution. Through Upper Gali- 
 lee, from Tiberias to the top of Libanus, this act of blood will 
 ring, and be answered by blood. I have kinsmen many, 
 countrymen myriads. A single wrench of my sinews may 
 lift a hundred thousand arms against your city, and leave of 
 yourself nothing but the remembrance of your crimes." 
 
 He bounded from his couch ; the native fiend flashed out in 
 his countenance. I waited his attack, with my hand on the 
 poniard within my sash. My look probably deterred him, for 
 he flung himself back again, and bursting into a loud laugh, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 186 
 
traces tibou Sill f Come 
 
 git "Bravely apoken. Septimius, we must send the Jew 
 
 teVtome 
 
 to Borne, to teach our orators. Aye, I know Upper Gali- 
 lee too well not to know that rebellion is more easily raised 
 there than the taxes. And it was for that reason that I in- 
 Tited you to come to Csesarea. In the midst of your tribe, 
 capture would have cost half a legion ; here a single jailer 
 will do the business. Ho! guard! " he called aloud. 
 
 I heard the screwing of the rack in the next room and 
 unsheathed the poniard. The blade glittered in his eyes. 
 Septimius came between us, and tried to turn the procurator's 
 purpose. 
 
 " Let your g^uard come," cried I, " and by the sacredness of 
 the Temple, one of us dies. I will not live to be tortured, or 
 you shall not live to see it." 
 
 If the door had opened, I was prepared to dart upon him. 
 
 "Well," said he, after a whispered expostulation from 
 Septimius, " you must go and settle the matter with the Em- 
 peror. The fact is, that I am too tender-hearted to govern 
 such a nation of dagger-bearers. So, to Nero! If we can 
 not send the Emperor money, we will at least send him men." 
 
 He laughed vehemently at the conception ; ordered the sing- 
 ing and dancing slaves to return; called for wine, and plunged 
 again into his favorite cup. 
 
 Septimius arose, and led me into another chamber. I re- 
 monstrated against the injustice of my seizure. He lamented 
 it, but said that the orders from Eome were strict, and that I 
 was denounced by some of the chiefs in Jerusalem as the 
 head of the late insurrection and the projector of a new one. 
 The procurator, he added, had been for some time anxious to 
 get me into his power without raising a disturbance among 
 my tribe ; the treachery of my domestic had been employed to 
 effect this, and "now," concluded he, "my best wish for you 
 — a wish prompted by motives of which you can form no con- 
 jecture — is that you may be sent to Eome. Every day that 
 sees you in Caesarea sees you in the utmost perU. At the 
 first rumor of insurrection, your life wUl be the sacrifice." 
 
 " But my family! What will be their feelings? Caa I not 
 at least acquaint them with my destination? " 
 
 136 
 
Cop3'riyht, l^ill, Uy Funk & VV agnails Coiijjiany, N. V. and London. 
 
 "Let your guard come," cried I. 
 
 See page 136. 
 
Salatbiel ffaces a 'Roman 
 
 " It is impossible. And now, to let you into a state secret, U6e t»oie«n« 
 the Emperor has ordered that you should be sent to Eome. 
 Florus menaced you only to extort money. He now knows 
 you better, and would gladly enlist you ia the Roman cause. 
 This I know to be hopeless. But I dread his caprice, and 
 shall rejoice to see the sails hoisted that are to carry you to 
 Rome. Farewell; your family shall have due iatelligence." 
 
 He was at the door of the chamber, but suddenly returned, 
 and pressing my hand, said again : " Farewell, and remember 
 that neither all Romans, nor even all Greeks, may be alike ! " 
 He then with a graceful obeisance left the room. 
 
 Fatigue hung with a leaden weight upon my eyelids. I 
 tried vain experiments to keep myself from slumber in this ^ 
 perilous vicinage. The huge silver chandelier, that threw a 
 blaze over the fretted roof, began to twiukle before me ; the 
 busts and statues gradually mingled, and I was once more in 
 the land of visions. Home was before my eyes. I was sud- 
 denly tossed upon the ocean. 
 
 I stood before Nero and was addressing him with a formal 
 harangue, when the whole tissue was broken up by a sullen 
 voice commanding me to rise. A soldier, sword in hand, 
 soon entered ; he pointed to the door where an armed party 
 were seen, and informed me that I was ordered for immediate 
 embarkation. 
 
 It was scarcely past midnight ; the stars were still ia their 
 splendor ; the pharos threw a long line of flame on the waters ; 
 the city sounds were hushed, and silent as a procession to the 
 grave, we moved down to where the tall vessel lay rocking 
 with the breeze. At her side, a Nubian slave put a note iato 
 my hand; it was from the young Roman, requesting my ac- 
 ceptance of wine and fruits from the palace, and wishing me 
 a prosperous result to my voyage. The sails were hoisted ; 
 the stately mole, that even in the night looked a mount of 
 marble, was cleared ; the libation was poured to the Tritons 
 for our speedy passage, and the blazing pharos was rapidly 
 seen but as a twinkling star. 
 
 187 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 On 'Board a. Trireme 
 
 Cbeffaptafnof OuB trireme flew before the ■wind. By daybreak the coast 
 tbe Urireme -^^-as only a pale line along the waters ; but Carmel still towered 
 proudly emiaent, and with its top alternately clouded and 
 glittering ia the sun might have been taken for a gigantic 
 beacon throwing up alternate smoke and flame. With what 
 eyes did I contiaue to look, until the mighty hill, too, sank ia 
 the waters ! But thought still lingered on the shore. I saw, 
 with a keenness more than of the eye, the family circle; 
 through many an hour of gaziug on the waters, I was all but 
 standing ia the midst of those walls which I might never more 
 see; listening to the uncomplaining sighs of Miriam, the 
 impassioned remonstrances of my sole remaiaing child, and 
 busied ia the still harder task of finding out some defense 
 agaiast the self -accusation that laid the charge of rashness and 
 cruelty heavy upon my soul. 
 
 But the scene round me was the very reverse of moody 
 meditation. The captain was a thorough Italian trierarch, 
 ostentatious, gay, given to superstition, and occasionally a 
 little of a free thiaker. His ship was to him child, wife, 
 and world ; and at every maneuver he claimed from us such 
 tribute as a father might for the virtues of his favorite off- 
 spring; perpetual luck was in everything that she did; she 
 knew every headland from Cyprus to Ostia ; a pilot was a 
 mere supernumerary ; she could run the whole course without 
 the helm, if she pleased. She beat the Lihumian for speed; 
 the Cypriot for comfort ; the Sicilian for safety ; and every 
 other vessel on the seas for every other quality. All he 
 asked was to live ia her, while he lived at all, and to go down 
 in her when the Tates were at last to cut his thread, as they 
 did those of all captains, whether on sea or land. 
 
 188 
 
®n JBoacO a tTttceme 
 
 The panegyric of the good ship Ganymede was in some de- h iBotUB 
 gree merited; she carried us on boldly, For a sea in which flrows 
 the winds are constant when they come, but in which the calms 
 are as constant as the winds, nothing could have been more 
 perfectly adapted than the ancient galley. If the gale arose, 
 the ship shot along like the eagle that bore her Trojan name- 
 sake — light, strong, with her white sails full of the breeze, 
 and cleaving the surge with the rapidity of an arrow. If the 
 wind fell we floated in a pavilion, screened from the sun, re- 
 freshed with perfumes burning on poop, brow, and masts, 
 surrounded with gilding and the carvings and paintings of the 
 Greek artists, drinking delicious wines, listening to song and 
 story, and in all this enjoyment gliding insensibly along on a 
 lake of absolute sapphire encircled and varied by the most 
 picturesque and lovely islands in the world. 
 
 The Ganymede had been under especial orders from Rome for 
 my transmission; but the captain felt too much respect for the 
 procurator not to trespass on the letter of the law so far as to 
 £Q1 up the vacancies of his hold with merchandise, in which 
 Florus drove a steady contraband trade. Having done so much 
 to gratify the governor' s distinguishing propensity, he next pro- 
 vided for his own ; and loaded his gallant vessel mercilessly 
 with passengers, as much prohibited as his merchandise. 
 While we were yet in sight of land, I walked a lonely deck; 
 but when the salutary fear of the galleys on the station was 
 passed, every comer of the Ganymede let loose a living cargo. 
 
 For the Jewish chieftain going from Florus on a mission to 
 the Emperor, as the captain conceived me and my purpose to 
 be, a separate portion of the deck was kept sacred. But I 
 mingled from time to time with the crowd, and thus contrived 
 to preserve at once my respect and my popularity. Never 
 was there a more miscellaneous collection. "We transp6rted 
 into Europe a Chaldee sorcerer, an Indian gymnosophist, an 
 Arab teacher of astrology, a Magian from Persepolis, and a 
 Platonist from Alexandria. Such were our contributions to 
 Oriental science. 
 
 We had, besides, a dealer in sleight-of-hand from Damascus ; 
 an Egyptian with tame monkeys and a model of a pyramid; a 
 
 tS9 
 
tTatrs ZbovL ^ill 1 Come 
 
 ;Bt^reiice9 ot Syrian serpent-teaclier ; an Idumean maker of amulets against 
 storm and calm, thirst and hunger, and every other disturbance 
 and distress of life ; an Armenian discoverer of the stone by 
 "which gold-mines were to be found ; a Byzantine inventor of 
 the true Oriental pearls ; a dealer from the Caspian in gums 
 superseding all that Arabia ever wept; an Epicurean philoso- 
 pher who professed indolence, and who, to do him justice, was 
 a striking example of his doctrine ; and a Stoic who, having 
 gone his rounds of the Eoman garrisons as a teacher of danc- 
 ing, a curer of wines, and a flute-player, had now risen into 
 the easier vocation of a philosopher. 
 
 Of course, among these professors, the discoverer of gold was 
 the most moneyless ; the maker of amulets against misfortune 
 the most miserable ; and the Stoic the most impatient. The 
 Epicurean alone adhered to the spirit of his profession. 
 
 But the unstable elements round us were a severe trial for 
 any human philosophy but that of a thorough optimist. Wind 
 and water, the two most imperious of all things, were our 
 masters ; and a calm, a breeze, or even a bUJow, often tried 
 our reasoners too roughly for the honor of tempers so saturated 
 with wisdom. On those occasions the Platonist defended the 
 antiquity of Egypt with double pertinacity ; the Chaldee de- 
 rided its novelty by the addition of a hundred thousand years 
 to his chronology of Babylon ; the Indian with increased scorn, 
 wrinkling his brown visage, told them that both Babylon and 
 Egypt were baubles of yesterday compared with the million 
 years of India. 
 
 The dagger would have silenced many a discussion on 
 the chief good, the origin of benevolence, and the beauty 
 of virtue, but for the voice of the captain, which like thunder 
 cleared the air. He, I will allow, was the truest philoso- 
 pher of us all. The trierarch was an unconscious optimist; 
 nothing could touch him in the shape of misfortune, for to 
 him it had no existence. If the storm rose, "we should 
 get the more rapidly into port " ; if the calm came to fix us 
 scorching on the face of the waters, "nothing could be safer." 
 If our provisions fell short, " abstemiousness now and then 
 was worth a generation of doctors." If the sun burned above 
 
 140 
 
On :D3oacd a ^titeme 
 
 as -with, the fire of a ball of led-liot iron, "it was the test of UfieipbHosoobv 
 fair weather " ; if the sky was a mass of vapor, " we escaped '* * *^*" " 
 being roasted alive." 
 
 His maxims on higher subjects were equally consoling. 
 " If man had to struggle through life, struggle was the nurs- 
 ing-mother of greatness ; if he were opulent, he had gained 
 the end without the trouble. If he had disease, he learned 
 patience, essential for sailor, soldier, and philosopher alike; 
 if he enjoyed health, who could doubt the blessing? If he 
 lived long, he had time for pleasure; if he died early, he 
 escaped the chances of the tables' tumiug." The optimist 
 applied his principle to me, by gravely informing me that 
 "though it depended on the Emperor's state of digestion 
 whether I should or should not carry back my head from his 
 presence, yet if I lived, I should see the games "of the Circus, 
 and if I did not, I should in aU probability care but little 
 about the matter." 
 
 Nothing in the variety of later Europe gives me a parallel 
 to the distinctions of rank and profession, style of subsistence, 
 and physiognomy of society in the ancient world. Human 
 nature was classed in every kingdom, province, and city al- 
 most as rigidly as the different races of mankrud. The divi- 
 sions of the slave, the freedman, the citizen, the artist, the 
 priest, the man of literature, and the man of public life were 
 cut with a plowshare whose furrows were never filled up. 
 Life had the curious mixture of costume, the palpable diver- 
 sity of purpose, and the studied intricacy of a drama. 
 
 Our voyage was rapid, but even a lingering transit would 
 have been cheered by the innumerable objects of beauty and 
 memory which rise on every side in the passage through a 
 Grecian sea. The islands were then untouched by the spoiler ; 
 the opulence of Eome had been added to Attic taste; and 
 temples, theaters, and palaces, starting from groves, or stud- 
 ding the sides of the stately hills, and reflected in the mirror 
 of bays, smooth and bright as polished steel, held the eye a 
 continual captive. On the sea, flights of vessels, steering in 
 all directions, glittering with the emblems of their nations, 
 the colored pennants, the painted prows, and gilded images of 
 
 141 
 
XTarrg ^bou Oltll f Come 
 
 "Bbeflmperfai tlieir protecting deities, covered the horizon with life. We 
 had reached the southern cape of Greece, and were, with a 
 boldness unusual to ancient navigation, stretching across in a 
 starless night for the coast of Italy, when we caught a sound 
 of distant music that recalled the poetic dreams of nymphs and 
 tritons. The sound swelled and sank on the wind, as if it 
 came from the depths of the sea or the bosom of the clouds. 
 As we parted from the land, it swelled higher until it filled 
 the midnight with pompous harmony. To sleep was profana- 
 tion, and we all gathered on the deck, exhausting nature and 
 art in conjectures of the cause. 
 
 The harmony approached and receded at intervals, grew 
 in volume and richness, then stole away in wild murmurs, to 
 revive with still more luxuriant sweetness. Night passed iu 
 delight and conjecture. Morning alone brought the solution. 
 
 Full in the blaze of sunrise steered the imperial fleet, re- 
 turning in triumph from the Olympic games, with the Emperor 
 on board. We had unconsciously approached it during the 
 darkness. 
 
 The whole scene wore the aspect of a vision summoned by 
 the hand of an enchanter. The sea was covered with the fleet 
 in order of battle. Some of the galleys were of vast size, and 
 all were gleaming with gold and decorations; silken sails, 
 garlands on the masts, trophies hung over the sides, and em- 
 broidered streamers of every shape and hue, met the morning 
 light. We passed the wing of the fleet, close enough to see 
 the sacrificial fires on the poop of the imperial quinquereme. 
 A crowd in purple and military habits was standing round a 
 throne, above which proudly waved the scarlet flag of 
 command. A figure advanced; aU foreheads were bowed, 
 acclamations rent the air, the trumpets of the fleet flourished, 
 and the lofty harmonies that had charmed us in the night 
 again swelled upon the wind and followed us, long after the 
 whole floating splendor had dissolved into the distant blue. 
 
 At length the headlands of the noble bay of Tarentum rose 
 above the horizon. While we were running with the speed 
 of a lapwing, the captain, to our surprise, shortened sail. I 
 soon discovered that no philosophy was perfect; that even the 
 
 143 
 
On 33oacd a Uriteme 
 
 optimist thought that daylight might be worse than useless, saiatbiei 
 and that a blot had been left on creation in the shape of a ^" * 
 custom-house ofiB.cer. 
 
 Mght fell at last ; the moon, to which our captain had taken 
 a sudden aversion, was as cloudy as he could desire, and we 
 rushed in between the glimmering watch-towers on the lapy- 
 gian and Lacinian promontories. The glow of light along the 
 waters soon pointed out where the luxurious citizens of Taren- 
 tum were enjoying the banquet in their barges and villas. 
 Next came the hum. of the great city, whose popular boast 
 was, like that of later times, that it had more festivals than 
 days in the year. 
 
 But the trierarch's often-told delight at finding himself free 
 to rove among the indulgences of his favorite shore had lost 
 its poignancy; and with a firmness which set the Stoic in a 
 rage, the Epicurean in a state of rebellion, and the whole tribe 
 of our sages in a temper of mere mortal remonstrance, he re- 
 sisted alike the remonstrance and the allurement, and sullenly 
 cast anchor in the center of the bay. 
 
 It was not until song and feast had died, and all was hushed, 
 that he stole with the slightest possible noise to the back of 
 the mole, and sending us below, disburdened his conscience 
 and the hold of the good ship Ganymede. I had no time to 
 give to the 'glories of Tarentum. Nero's approach hurried my 
 departure. The centurion who had me in charge trembled at 
 the idea of delay, and we rode through the midst of three 
 hundred thousand sleepers in streets of marble and ranks of 
 statues, as silently and swiftly as if we had been the ghosts 
 of their ancestors. 
 
 When the day broke we found ourselves among the Lucanian 
 hills, then no desert, but crowded with population and bright 
 with the memorials of Italian opulence and taste. From the 
 inn where we halted to change horses, the Tarentine gulf 
 spread broad and bold before the eye. 
 
 The city of luxury and of power, once the ruler of Southern 
 Italy, and mistress of the seas that sent out armies and fleets, 
 worthy to contest the supremacy with Pyrrhus and the Car- 
 thaginian, was, from this spot, sunk like all the works of man, 
 
 143 
 
XLntrs ^ou tCill IT Come 
 
 tn into Kttleness. But the gulf, like all the works of nature, 
 grew in grandeur. Its circular shore edged with thirteen 
 cities, the deep azure of its smooth waters inlaid with the 
 flashes of sunrise, and traversed by fleets, diminished to toys, 
 reminded me of one of the magnificent Roman, shields, with 
 its center of sanguine steel, the silver incrustation of the rim, 
 and the storied sculpture. We passed at full speed through 
 the Lucanian and Sa.mnian provinces, fine sweeps of cultivated 
 country, interspersed with the huntiug-grounds of the great 
 patricians ; forests that had not felt the ax for centuries, and 
 hills and valleys sheeted with the vine and rose. 
 
 But on reaching the border of Latium, I was already in 
 Rome; I traveled a day's joximey among streets and in the 
 midst of a crowded and hurrying population. The whole was 
 one huge suburb with occasional glimpses of a central mount, 
 crowned with glittering and gilded structures. 
 
 " There ! " said the centurion, with somewhat of religions 
 reverence, "behold the eternal Capitol! " 
 
 I entered Rome at night, passing through an endless number 
 of narrow and intricate streets where hovels, the very abode 
 of want, were mingled with palaces blazing with lights and 
 echoing with festivity. The centurion's house was at length 
 reached. He showed me to an apartment, and left me, 
 saying, "that I must prepare to be brought before the 
 Emperor immediately on his arrival." 
 
 I am now, thought I, in the heart of the heart of the world; 
 in the midst of that place of power from which the destiny 
 of nations issues ; in the great treasure-house to which men 
 come from the ends of the earth for knowledge, for justice, 
 for wealth, honor, thrones 1 And what am I? — a solitary slave ! 
 
 144 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 ^e Burning of *l^ome 
 With the original mixture of Ionian and northern blood in iRoman 
 
 his veins, the character of the Roman was at once tasteful 
 and barbarian. Like the Asiatic, delighting in luxury, like 
 the Tatar, delighting in gore, he turned the elegance of the 
 Greek games into the combat of gladiators. He was a vol- 
 uptuary, but the gravest of all voluptuaries. Of all nations 
 the Eoman bore the strongest resemblance to that people of 
 conquerors who at length swept its name from Byzantium; 
 superb, but slavish; fierce, but sensual; brave as the lion, 
 but base in its appetites as the jackal ; a people made for the 
 possession of empire and for its corruption." 
 
 Of all men he had the least resemblance to his successor. 
 Haughty, sagacious, and solemn, tho raveniug for rapine, 
 and merciless in his revenge, he bequeathed nothing to that 
 miscellany of mankind which has followed him, but his pas- 
 sion for shows. 
 
 Eome was all shows. Its innumerable public events were 
 all thrown into the shape of pageantry. Its worship, elections, 
 the departure and return of governors and consuls, every 
 operation of public life, was modeled into a pomp, and in the 
 boundless extent of the empire those operations were crowd- 
 iag on one another every day. The multitude that can still be 
 set in motion by a wooden saint was then summoned by the 
 stirring ceremonial of empire, the actual sovereignty of the 
 globe. What must have been the strong excitement, the per- 
 petual concourse, the living and various activity of a city from 
 which flowed the stream of power through the world, to re- 
 turn to it loaded with all that the opulence, skill, and splen- 
 dor of the world could give. 
 
 Triumphs to whose grandeur and singularity the pomps of 
 
 ]0 145 
 
 Ipagcantct 
 
Vaccs Ubou UiU IF Gome 
 
 Summoneb later days are but as the attempts of paupers and children; 
 Empetoc rites on which the very existence of the state was to depend ; 
 the levy and march of armies which were to carry fate to the 
 remotest corners of the earth; the kings of the East and West 
 coming to solicit diadems or to deprecate the irresistible wrath 
 of Eome ; vast theaters ; public games that tasked the whole 
 fertility of Eoman talent, and the most prodigal lavishness of 
 imperial luxury, were the movers that among the four millions 
 of Rome made life a hurricane. 
 
 I saw it in its full and grand commotion; I saw it in its 
 desperate agony ; I saw it iu its frivolous revival, and I shall 
 see it in an hour, wilder, weaker, and more terrible than all. 
 I remained under the charge of the centurion. No man could 
 be better fitted for a state jailer. Civility sat on his lips, but 
 caution the most profound sat beside her. He professed to 
 have the deepest dependence on my honor, yet he never let 
 me move beyond his eye. But I had no desire to escape. 
 The crisis must come, and I was as well inclined to meet it 
 then as to have it lingering over me. 
 
 Intelligence in a few days arrived from Brundusium of the 
 Emperor's landing, and of his iutention to remain at Antium 
 until his triumphal entry should be prepared. My fate now 
 hung in the balance. I was ordered to attend the imperial 
 presence. At the vestibule of the Antian palace my careful 
 centurion deposited me in the hands of a senator. 
 
 As I followed him through the halls, a young female richly 
 attired, and of the most beautiful face and form, crossed us, 
 light and graceful as a dancing nymph. The senator bowed 
 profoundly. She beckoned to him. and they exchanged a few 
 words. I was probably the subject, for her countenance, 
 sparkling with the animation of youth and loveliness, grew 
 pale at once ; she clasped both her hands upon her eyes and 
 rushed into an inner chamber. She knew Nero well; and 
 dearly she was yet to pay for her knowledge. 
 
 The senator, to my inquiring glance, answered in a whisper, 
 "The Empress Poppsea." 
 
 A few steps onward and I stood in the presence of the most 
 formidable being on earth. Yet whatever might have been 
 
 146 
 
Zbe Bucnfns of 1Rome 
 
 my natural agitation at the time, I could scarcely restrain a meco 
 smile at the first sight of Nero." '*^ ^'^^^ 
 
 I saw a pale, undersized, light-haired young maa, sitting be- 
 fore a table with a lyre on it, and a parrot's cage, to whose 
 inmate he was teaching Greek with great assiduity. But for 
 the regal furniture of the cabinet I should have supposed my- 
 self led by mistake into an interview with some struggling 
 poet. He shot round one quick glance on the opening of the 
 door, and then proceeded to give lessons to his bird. I had 
 leisure to gaze on the tyrant and parricide. 
 
 Physiognomy is a true science. The man of profound 
 thought, the man of active ability, and, above all, the man of 
 genius has his character stamped on his countenance by nature ; 
 the man of violent passions and the voluptuary have it stamped 
 by habit. But the science has its limits : it has no stamp for 
 mere cruelty. The features of the human monster before me 
 were mild and almost handsome ; a heavy eye and a figure 
 tending to fulness gave the impression of a quiet mind, and 
 but for an occasional restlessness of brow and a brief glance 
 from under it, in which the leaden eye darted suspicion, I 
 should have pronounced Nero one of the most indolently 
 harmless of mankind. 
 
 He now remanded his pupil to its perch, took up the lyre, 
 and throwing a not unskilful hand over the strings in the 
 intervals of his performance, languidly addressed a broken 
 sentence to me. 
 
 " You have come, I understand, from Judea ; they tell me 
 that you have been, or are to be, a general of the insurrec- 
 tion. You must be put to death ; your countrymen give me 
 a great deal of trouble, and I always regret to be troubled 
 with them. But to send you back would be only an encour- 
 agement to them, and to keep you here among strangers would 
 be only a cruelty to you. I am charged with cruelty ; you 
 see the charge is not true. I am lampooned every day; 
 I know the scribblers, but they must lampoon or starve and I 
 leave them to do both. Have you brought any news from 
 Judea? They have not had a true prince there since the first 
 Herod and he was quite a Greek, a cut-throat and a man of 
 
 147 
 
Catri? ttbou ttlll U Come 
 
 Vbc taste. He understood the arts. I sent for you to see what 
 *""* sort of animal a Jewish rebel was. Your dress is handsome, 
 but too light for our winters. You can not die before sunset, 
 as until then I am engaged with my music-master. We all 
 must die when our time comes. Farewell — till sunset may 
 Jupiter protect you ! " 
 
 I retired to execution, and before the door closed heard 
 this accomplished disposer of life and death preluding upon 
 his lyre with increased energy. I was conducted to a turret 
 until the period in which the Emperor's engagement with his 
 music-master should leave him at leisure to see me die ! 
 
 Yet there was kindness even under the roof of Nero, and a 
 liberal hand had covered the table in my cell. The hours 
 passed heavily along, but they passed ; and I was watching 
 the last rays of my last sun when I suddenly perceived a cloud 
 rise in the direction of Eome. It grew broader, deeper, darker 
 as I gazed ; its center was suddenly tinged with red ; the tinge 
 spread; the whole mass of cloud becam.e crimson; the sun 
 went down, and another sun seemed to have risen in its stead. 
 I heard the clattering of horses' feet in the courtyards below ; 
 tnunpets sounded ; there was evident confusion in the palace ; 
 the troops hurried under arms, and I saw a squadron of cav- 
 alry set o£E at full speed. 
 
 As I was gazing on the spectacle before me, which perpetu- 
 ally became more menacing, the door of my cell slowly opened, 
 and a masked figure stood upon the threshold. I had made 
 up my mind, and demanding if he were the executioner, told 
 him " I was ready. " The figure paused, listened to the sounds 
 below, and after looking for a while on the troops in the 
 courtyard, signified by signs that I had a chance of saving 
 my life. 
 
 The love of existence rushed back upon me ; I eagerly in- 
 quired what was to be done. He drew from under his cloak 
 the dress of a Eoman slave, which I put on, and noiselessly 
 followed his steps through a long succession of small and 
 strangely intricate passages. We found no difficulty from 
 guards or domestics. The whole palace was in a state of ex- 
 traordinary alarm. Every human being was packing up 
 
 148 
 
XZbe JButnind of 'Komc 
 
 something or other ; rich vases, myrrhine cups, gold services, iRome 
 
 were lying in heaps on the floors ; books, costly dresses, in- 
 struments of music, all the appendages of luxury, were flung 
 loose in every direction — signs of the sudden breaking up of 
 the court. I might have plundered the value of a province 
 ■with impunity. Still we wound our hurried way. In pass- 
 ing along one of the corridors, the voice of sorrow struck the 
 ear; my mysterious guide hesitated; I glanced through the 
 slab of crystal that showed the chamber within. 
 
 It was the one in which I had seen the Emperor, but his 
 place was now filled by the form of youth and beauty which 
 had crossed me on my arrival. She was weeping bitterly," 
 and reading with passionate indignation a long list of names, 
 probably one of those rolls in which Nero registered his in- 
 tended victims, and which in the haste of departure he had 
 left open. A second glance saw her tear the paper into a 
 thousand fragments and scatter them in the fountain that 
 gushed upon the floor. I left this lovely and unhappy crea- 
 ture, this dove in the vulture's talons, with almost a pang. 
 A few steps more brought us into the open air, but among 
 bowers that covered our path with darkness. At the extrem- 
 ity of the gardens my guide struck with his dagger upon a 
 door ; it was opened ; we found horses outside ; he sprang on 
 one; I sprang on its fellow, and palace, guards, and death 
 were left far behind. 
 
 He galloped so furiously that I found it impossible to 
 speak, and it was not till we had reached an eminence a few 
 miles from Home, where we breathed our horses, that I could 
 ask to whom I had been indebted for my escape. But I could 
 not extract a word from him. He made signs of silence and 
 pointed with wild anxiety to the scene that spread below. It 
 was of a grandeur and terror indescribable. Eome was an 
 ocean of flame! Height and depth were covered with red 
 surges that rolled before the blast like an endless tide. The 
 flames burst up the sides of the hills, which they turned into 
 instant volcanoes, exploding volumes of smoke and fire; then 
 plunged into the depths in a hundred glowing cataracts ; then 
 climbed and consumed again. The distant sound of the great 
 
 140 
 
 Bllame 
 
Uarrg (Tbou XTill f Come 
 
 use ©rofltesB city in her convulsion went to the soul. The air was filled 
 with the steady roar of the advancing blaze, the crash of fall- 
 ing houses, and the hideous outcry of the myriads flying 
 through the streets, or surrounded and perishing iu the con- 
 flagration. 
 
 Hostile to Rome as I was, I could not restrain the 
 exclamation: "There goes the fruit of conquest, the glory 
 of ages, the purchase of the blood of millions ! Was vaaity 
 made for man? " My guide continued looking forward with 
 intense earnestness, as if he were perplexed by what avenue 
 to enter the burning city. I demanded who he was, and 
 whither he would lead me. He returned no answer. A long 
 spire of flame that shot up from a hitherto-untouched quarter 
 engrossed all his senses. He struck in the spur, and making 
 a wild gesture to me to follow, darted down the hill. 
 
 I pursued ; we found the Appian choked with wagons, bag- 
 gage of every kind, and terrified crowds hurrying into the 
 open country. To force a way through them was impossible. 
 All was clamor, violent struggle, and helpless death. Men 
 and women of the highest rank were hurrying on foot, or 
 trampled by the rabble that had then lost all respect of condi- 
 tion. One dense mass of miserable life, irresistible from its 
 weight, crushed by the narrow streets and scorched by the 
 flames over their heads, continued to roll through the gates 
 like an endless stream of black lava. 
 
 We now turned back and attempted an entrance through 
 the gardens of some of the villas that skirted the city wall 
 near the Palatine. All were deserted, and after some danger- 
 ous bounds over the burning ruins we found ourselves in the 
 streets. The fire had orig^ally broken out on the Palatine, 
 and hot smoke that wrapped and half-blinded us hung thick 
 as night upon the wrecks of pavilions and palaces ; but the 
 dexterity and knowledge of my inexplicable guide carried us 
 on. It was in vain that I insisted upon knowing the purpose 
 of this terrible traverse. He pressed his hand on his heart in 
 reassurance of his fidelity, and stiU. spurred on. 
 
 We now passed under the shade of an immense range of 
 lofty buildings, whose gloomy and solid strength seemed to 
 
 ISO 
 
Zbe 3Sucning ol IRome 
 
 bid defiance to cliance and time. A sudden scream appalled irn 
 £Qg tbe arena 
 
 A ring of fire swept round its summit ; burning cordage, 
 sheets of canvas, and a shower of all things combustible flew 
 into the air above our heads. An uproar followed, unlike all 
 that I had ever heard, a hideous mixture of howls, shrieks, 
 and groans. The flames rolled down the narrow street before 
 us and made the passage next to impossible. While we hesi- 
 tated, a huge fragment of the building heaved, as if in an 
 earthquake, and fortunately for us feU inward. The whole 
 scene of terror was then open. 
 
 The great amphitheater of Statilius Taurus had caught fire ; 
 the stage with its inflammable furniture was blaziug below. 
 The flames were wheeling up, circle above circle, through the 
 seventy thousand seats that rose from the ground to the roof. 
 I stood in unspeakable awe and wonder on the side of this 
 colossal cavern, this mighty temple of the city of iire. At 
 length a descending blast cleared away the smoke that covered 
 the arena. The cause of those horrid cries was now visible. 
 The Tvild beasts kept for the games had broken from their dens. 
 Maddened by affright and pain, lions, tigers, panthers, wolves, 
 whole herds of the monsters of India and Africa, were enclosed 
 in an impassable barrier of fire. They bounded, they fought, 
 they screamed, they tore ; they ran howling round and round 
 the circle; they made desperate leaps upward through the 
 blaze ; when flung back, they fell, only to fasten their fangs 
 in each other, and with their parching jaws bathed in blood, 
 die raging. 
 
 I looked anxiously to see whether any human being was 
 involved in this fearful catastrophe; but to my relief, I 
 could see none. The keepers and attendants had obviously 
 escaped. As 1 expressed my gladness I was startled by 
 a loud cry from my guide, the first sound that I had heard 
 him utter. He pointed to the opposite side of the amphi- 
 theater. There indeed sat an object of melancholy interest — 
 a man who had either been unable to escape or had determined 
 to die. Escape was now impossible. He sat in desperate 
 calmness on his funeral pile. He was a gigantic Ethiopian 
 
 ISl 
 
TTarts JSbon tTill f dome 
 
 «amatHne, slave, entirely naked. He had chosen lis place, as if in 
 ptiBon mockery, on the imperial throne ; the fire was above him and 
 around him, and under this tremendous canopy he gazed with- 
 out the movement of a muscle on the combat of the wild 
 beasts below, a solitary sovereign, with the whole tremendous 
 game played for himself, and inaccessible to the power of man. 
 I was forced away from this absorbing spectacle, and we 
 once more threaded the long and intricate streets of Rome. 
 As we approached the end of one of those bewildering pas- 
 sages, scarcely wide enough for us to ride abreast, I was startled 
 by the sudden illumination of the sky immediately above, and, 
 rendered cautious by the experience of our hazards, called to 
 my companion to return. He pointed behind me and showed 
 the fire breaking out in the houses by which we had just 
 galloped. I followed on. A crowd that poured from the ad- 
 joining streets cut off our retreat. Hundreds rapidly mounted 
 on the houses in front, in the hope by throwing them down 
 to check the conflagration The obstacle once removed, we 
 saw the source of the light — spectacle of horror! The^ great 
 prison of Rome, the Mamartine, was on fire. 
 
 Never can I forget the sights and sounds — the dismay — the 
 hopeless agony — the fury and frenzy that then overwhelmed 
 all hearts. The jailers had been forced to fly before they 
 could loose the fetters or open the cells of the prisoners. We 
 saw those gaunt and wo-begone wretches crowding to their 
 casements, and imploring impossible help; clinging to the 
 heated bars ; toiling with their impotent grasp to tear out the 
 massive stones ; some hopelessly wringing their hands ; some 
 calling on the terrified spectators, by every name of humanity, 
 to save them ; some venting their despair in execrations and 
 blasphemies that made the blood run cold ; others, after many 
 a wild effort to break loose, dashing their heads against the 
 walls or stabbing themselves. The people gave them outcry 
 for outcry, but the flame forbade approach. Before I could 
 extricate myself from the multitude, a whirl of fiery ashes 
 shot upward from the falling roof; the walls burst into a 
 thousand fragments, and the huge prison, with all its miserable 
 inmates, was a heap of embers I 
 
 in 
 
Zbe JButnfng of "Rome 
 
 Exhausted as I -was by this endless fatigue and yet more by ubcouab 
 the melancholy sights that surrounded every step, no fatigue 'aSS^"* 
 seemed to be felt by the singular being who governed my 
 movements. He sprang through the burning ruins; he 
 plunged into the sulf urous smoke ; he never lost the direction 
 that he had first taken; and tho baffled and forced to turn 
 back a hundred times, he again rushed on his track with the 
 directness of an arrow. For me to make my way back to the 
 gates would be even more difficult than to push forward. 
 My ultimate safety might be in following, and I followed. 
 To stand still and to move seemed eq^ually perilous. 
 
 The streets, even with the improvements of Augustus, were 
 still scarcely wider than the breadth of the little Volscian carts 
 that crowded them. They were crooked, long, and obstructed 
 by every impediment of a city built in haste after the burn- 
 ing by the Gauls, and with no other plan than the caprice of 
 its hurried tenantry. The houses were of immense height, 
 chiefly wood, many roofed with thatch, and all covered or 
 cemented with pitch. The true surprise is that it had not 
 been burned once a year from the time of its building. Nero, 
 that hereditary concentration of vice, of whose ancestor's yel- 
 low beard the Roman orator said, " Ko wonder that his beard 
 was brass, when his mouth was iron and his heart lead," the 
 parricide and the poisoner, might plausibly exonerate him- 
 self of an act which might have been the deed of a drunken 
 mendicant in any of the fifty thousand hovels of this gigantic 
 aggregate of everything that could turn to flame. 
 
 We passed along through all the horrid varieties of misery, 
 guilt, and riot that could find their place in a great public 
 calamity ; groups gazing in wo on the wreck of their fortunes 
 in vapor and fire ; groups plundering in the midst of the flame ; 
 crowds of rioters, escaped felons, and murderers, exulting in 
 the public ruin, and dancing and drinking with Bacchanalian 
 uproar ; gangs of robbers stabbing the fugitives, to strip them ; 
 revenge, avarice, despair, profligacy, let loose naked; undis- 
 guised demons, to swell the wretchedness of this tremendous 
 infliction upon a blood-covered empire. 
 
 Still we spurred on, but our jaded horses at length sank 
 
 163 
 
tEarrs ^bou ZiU. IF Come 
 
 "Cbe palace under US ; and leaving them to find their way into the fields, 
 ^ "^ Tve struggled forward on foot. The air had hitherto been 
 calm, but now gusts began to rise, thunder growled, and the 
 signs of tempest increased. We had gained an untouched 
 quarter of the city, and had pushed our weary passage up to 
 the gates of a large patrician palace, when we were startled by 
 a broad sheet of flame rushing through the sky. The storm 
 had come in its rage. 
 
 The range of public magaziues of wood, cordage, tar, and 
 oil, in the valley between the Coelian and Palatine hills, had 
 at length been involved in the conflagration. All that we had 
 seen before was darkness to the fierce splendor of this burn- 
 ing. The tempest tore off the roofs and swept them like 
 floating islands of fire through the sky. The most distant 
 quarters on which they fell were instantly wrapped in flame. 
 One broad mass, whirling from an immense height, broke 
 upon the palace before us. A cry of terror was heard within. 
 The gates were flung open, and a crowd of domestics and per- 
 sons of both sexes, attired for a banquet, poured into the 
 streets. The palace was wrapped in flame. 
 
 My guide then for the first time lost his self-possession. He 
 staggered toward me with the appearance of a man who had re- 
 ceived a spear-head in his bosom. I caught him before he fell, 
 but his head sank, his knees bent under him, and his white 
 lips quivered with unintelligible sounds. I could distinguish 
 only the words — " Gone, gone forever ! " 
 
 The flames had already seized upon the principal floors of 
 the palace, and the volumes of smoke that poured through 
 every window and entrance rendered the attempt to save those 
 still within a work of extreme hazard. But ladders were 
 rapidly placed, ropes were flung, and the activity of the at- 
 tendants and retaiaers was boldly exerted, until all were pre- 
 sumed to have been saved and the building was left to burn. 
 My overwhelmed guide was lying on the ground when a sud- 
 den scream was heard, and a figure in the robes and with the 
 rosy crown of a banquet — strange contrast to her fearful 
 situation — was seen flying from window to window in the up- 
 per part of the mansion. It was supposed that she had fainted 
 
 154 
 
Ebe JSutnlng of iRomc 
 
 in the first terror and been forgotten. The height, the fierce- saiatwei 
 ness of the flame, which now completely mastered resistance, ^'"** Salome 
 the volumes of smoke that suffocated erery man who ap- 
 proached, made the chance of saving this unfortunate being 
 utterly desperate in the opinion of the multitude. 
 
 I shuddered at the horrors of this desertion. I looked 
 round at my companion ; he was kneeling in helpless agony, 
 with his hands lifted up to heaven. Another scream, wilder 
 than ever, pierced my senses. I seized an ax from one of 
 the domestics, caught a ladder from another, and in a paroxysm 
 of hope, fear, and pity scaled the burning wall. A shout 
 from below followed me. 
 
 I entered at the first window that I could reach. All be- 
 fore me was cloud. I rushed on, struggled, stumbled over 
 furniture and fragments of all kinds ; fell, rose again, found 
 myself trampling upon precious things, plate and crystal; 
 and still, ax in hand, forced my way. I at length reached 
 the apartment where I had seen the figure. It had vanished ! 
 
 A strange superstition of childhood, a thought that I might 
 have been lured by some spirit of evil into this place of ruin, 
 suddenly came over me. I stopped to gather my faculties. 
 I leaned against one of the pillars — it was hot; the floor shook 
 and cracked under my tread; the walls heaved, the flame 
 hissed below, while overhead roared the whirlwind and burst 
 the thunder-peal. , 
 
 My brain was fevered by agitation and fatigue. The golden 
 lamps still burning ; the long tables disordered, yet glittering 
 with the ornaments of patrician luxury ; the Tjrrian couches ; 
 the scarlet canopy that covered the whole range of the tables, 
 and gave the hall the aspect of an imperial pavilion, partially 
 torn down in the confusion of the flight, all assumed to me a 
 horrid and bewildering splendor. The smoke was already 
 rising through the crevices of the floor ; a huge volume of yellow 
 vapor slowly wreathed and arched round the chair at the head 
 of the banquet-table. I could have imaged a fearful lord of 
 the feast under that cloudy veil. Everything round me was 
 marked with preternatural fear, magnificence, and ruin. 
 
 A low groan broke my reverie. I heard the broken words : 
 
 165 
 
tlartB Cbou Zill 1 Come 
 
 pumeb bj "Oh, bitter fruit of disobedience! Oh, my father! oh, 
 my mother ! shall I never see you again? For one crime I am 
 doomed. Eternal mercy, let my crime be ■washed away! Let 
 my spirit ascend pure ! Farewell, mother, sister, father, hus- 
 band! " 
 
 With the last word I heard a fall, as if the spirit had left 
 the body. 
 
 I sprang toward the sound — I met but the solid wall. 
 
 " Horrible illusion ! " I cried. " Am. I mad, or the victim of 
 the powers of darkness? " 
 
 I tore away the hangings — a door was before me. I burst 
 it through with a blow of the ax, and saw stretched on the 
 floor, and insensible — Salome ! 
 
 I caught my child in my arms ; I bathed her forehead with 
 my tears ; I besought her to look up, to give some sign of life, 
 to hear the full forgiveness of my breaking heart. She looked 
 not, answered not, breathed not. To make a last effort for 
 her life, I carried her into the banquet-room. But the fire 
 had forced its way there ; the storm had carried the flame 
 through the long galleries, and spires of lurid light already 
 darting through the doors, gave fearful evidence that the last 
 stone of the palace must soon go down. 
 
 I bore my unhappy daughter toward the window, but the 
 height was deadly ; no gesture could be seen through the piles 
 of smoke; the help of man was in vain. To my increased 
 misery, the current of air revived Salome at the instant when 
 I hoped that by insensibility sho would escape the final pang. 
 She breathed, stood and opening her eyes, fixed on me the 
 vacant stare of one scarcely roused from sleep. Still clasped 
 in my arms she gazed again, but my wild face, covered with 
 dust, my half -burned hair, the ax gleaming in my hand, ter- 
 rified her ; she uttered a scream and darted away from me, 
 headlong into the center of the burning. I rushed after her, 
 calling on her name. A column of fire shot up between us ; 
 I felt the floor sink; all was then suffocation — I struggled and 
 felL 
 
 166 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 The Death of a. Martyr 
 
 I AWOKE with a sensation of pain in every limb. A female UbeiRetnmtoi 
 voice was singing a faint song near me. But the past was <'^"*"°"™«* 
 like a dream. I involuntarily looked down for the gulf on 
 which I had trod ; I looked upward for the burning rafters. 
 I saw nothing but an earthen floor and a low roof hung with 
 dried grapes and herbs. I uttered a cry. The singer ap- 
 proached me. There was nothing in her aspect to nurture a 
 diseased imagination ; she was an old and emaciated creature 
 who yet rejoiced in my restoration. She in turn called her 
 husband, a venerable Jew, whose first act was to offer thanks- 
 giving to the God of Israel for the safety of a chief of His 
 nation. But to my inquiries for the fate of my child, he 
 could give no answer ; he had discovered me among the ruins 
 of the palace of the JEImilii, to which he, with many of his 
 countrymen, had been attracted, with the object of collecting 
 whatever remnants of furniture might be left by the flames. 
 I had fallen by the edge of a fountain which extinguished the 
 fire in its vicinage, and I was found breathing. During three 
 days I had lain insensible. The Jew now went out and brought 
 back with him some of the elders of our people, who, notwith- 
 standing the decree of the Emperor Claudius, had remained 
 in Home, tho in increased privacy. I was carried to their 
 house of assemblage, concealed among groves and vineyards 
 beyond the gates, and attended to with a care which might 
 cure all things but the wounds of the mind. On the great 
 object of my solicitude, the fate of my Salome, I could obtain 
 no relief. I wandered over the site of the palace ; it was now 
 a mass of ashes and charcoal ; its ruins had been probed by 
 hundreds ; but search for even a trace of what would have 
 been to me dearer than a mountain of gold, was in vain. 
 
 167 
 
tracts tntou ^tll f Gome 
 
 "ilbe Org for The conflagration continued for six days, and every day of 
 the number gave burtn to some monstrous report of its origin. 
 Of the fourteen districts of Eome, but four remained. Thou- 
 sands had lost their lives, tens of thousands were utterly un- 
 done ; the whole empire shook under the blow. Then came 
 the still deeper horror. 
 
 Tear makes the individual feeble, but it makes the multi- 
 tude ferocious. A universal cry arose for revenge. Great 
 public misfortunes give the opportunity that the passions of 
 men and sects love, and the fiercest crimes of selfishness are 
 justified under the name of retribution. 
 
 But the full calamity burst on the Christians, then too new 
 to have fortified themselves in the national prejudices, if they 
 would have suffered the alliance ; too poor to reckon on any 
 powerful protectors ; and too uncompromising to palliate their 
 scorn of the whole public system of morals, philosophy, and 
 religion. The Emperor, the priesthood, and the populace con- 
 spired against them, and they were ordered to the slaughter. 
 
 I too had my stimulants to hatred. Where was I? In exile, 
 in desperate hazard ; I had been torn from home, robbed of 
 my child, made miserable by the fear of apostasy in my 
 house ; and by whom was this comprehensive evil done? The 
 name of Christian was gall to me. I heard of the popular 
 vengeance, and called it justice; I saw the distant fires in 
 which the Christians were being consumed, and calculated how 
 many each night of those horrors would subtract from the 
 guilty number. Man becomes cruel by the sight of cruelty, 
 and when thousands and hundreds of thousands were shouting 
 for vengeance ; when every face looked fury, and every tongue 
 was wild with some new accusation ; when the great and the 
 little, the philosopher and the ignorant, raised up one roar of 
 reprobation against the Christian, was the solitary man of 
 mercy to be looked for in one bleeding from head to foot with 
 wrongs irreparable? 
 
 On one of those dreadful nights, I was gazing from the 
 housetop on the fire forcing its way through the remaining 
 quarters, the melancholy gleams through the country showing 
 the extent of the flight, and in the midst of the blackened and 
 
 168 
 
Ube Deatb of a ^attst 
 
 dreaiy ■wastes of Rome, the spots of livid flame ■where the ptejiataHons 
 Christians ■were perishing at the pile, ■when I was summoned ""^ '"" ""^ 
 to a consultation belo^w. 
 
 A Je^w had just brought an imperial edict proclaiming par- 
 don of all offenses to the discoverer of Christians. I ■would 
 not have purchased my life by the life of a dog. But my 
 safety ■was important to the Je^wish cause, and I ■was pressed 
 on every side by arguments on the ■wisdom, nay, the public 
 duty, of accepting freedom on any terms. And ■what ■was to 
 be the price? — the life of criminals long obnoxious to the la'ws 
 and no^w stained beyond mercy. I loathed delay ; I loathed 
 Eome ; I ■was ■wild to return to the great cause of my country, 
 ■which never could have a fairer hope than no-w. An emissary 
 ■was sent out ; money soon effected the discovery of a Christian 
 assemblage ; I appeared before the praetor ■with my documents, 
 and brought back in my hand the imperial pardon, given ■with 
 the greater good -will as the assemblage chanced to compre- 
 hend the chiefs of the heresy. They ■were seized, ordered 
 forth^with to the pile, and I was commanded to be present at 
 this completion of my national service. 
 
 The executions were in the gardens of the imperial palace, 
 which had been thrown open by Nero for the double purpose 
 of popularity and of indulging himself with the display of 
 death at the slightest personal inconvenience. The crowd was 
 prodigious, and to gratify the greatest possible number at once, 
 those murders were carried on in different parts of the gardens. 
 In the ■vineyard, a certain portion were to be crucified; in the 
 orangery, another portion were to be burned ; in the pleasure- 
 ground, another portion were to be torn by lions and tigers ; 
 gladiators were to be let loose, and when the dusk came on, the 
 whole of the space was to be lighted by human torches, Chris- 
 tians wrapped in folds of linen covered ■with pitch and bitumen, 
 and thus burning do^wn from the head to the ground. 
 
 I was horror-struck, but escape was now impossible, and I 
 must go through the whole hideous round. With my flesh 
 quivering, my ears ringing, my eyes dim, I was forced to see 
 miserable beings, men — nay women, nay infants — sewed up 
 in skins of beasts, and hunted and torn to pieces by dogs ; old 
 
 159 
 
TEatris Ubon ^ill H Come 
 
 iCftt^ian men, whose hoary hairs might have demanded reverence of 
 savages, scourged, racked, and nailed to the trees to die; 
 lovely young females, creatures of guileless hearts and inno- 
 cent beauty, flung on flaming scaffolds. And this was the 
 "work of man, civilized man, in the highest civilization of the 
 arts, the manners, and the learning of the pagan world ! 
 
 But the grand display was prepared for the time when 
 those Christians who had been denounced on my discovery 
 were to be executed ; an exhibition at which the Emperor him- 
 self announced his intention to be present. The great Circus 
 was no more, but a temporary amphitheater had been erected, 
 in which the usual games were exhibited during the early pai-t 
 of the day. At the hour of my arrival, the low bank circling 
 this immense enclosure was filled with the first names of 
 Eome — knights, patricians, senators, military tribunes, con- 
 suls ; the Emperor alone was wanting to complete the repre- 
 sentative majesty of the empire. I was to form a part of the 
 ceremony, and the guard who had me in charge cleared the 
 way to a conspicuous place, where my national dress fixed 
 every eye on me. Several Christians had perished before my 
 arrival. Their remains lay on the ground, and in their midst 
 stood the man who was to be the next victim." By what in- 
 fluence I know not, but never did I see a human being who 
 made on me so deep an impression. I have him before me at 
 this instant. 
 
 The victims had been generally offered life for recantation, 
 and this man was giving his reply. I see the figure : low, yet 
 with an air of nobleness ; stooped a little with venerable age, 
 but the countenance full of life, and marked with all the traits 
 of intellectual power ; the strongly aquiline nose, the bold lip, 
 the large and rapid eye ; the whole man conveying the idea of 
 an extraordinary permanence of early vigor under the weight 
 of labor or of years. Even the hair was thick and black, with 
 scarcely a touch of silver. If the place and time were Athens 
 and the era of Demosthenes, I should have said that Demos- 
 thenes stood before me. The vivid action ; the fiashing rapid- 
 ity with which he seized a new idea, and compressed it to his 
 purpose ; the impetuous argument that, throwing off the f or- 
 
 160 
 
Cbe Deatb of a flbattst 
 
 mality of logic, smote with the strength of a new fact, were Ube_cbri8t(an 
 Demosthenic. Even a certain infirmity of utterance, and an 
 occasional slight difficulty of words, added to the likeness; 
 but there was a hallowed glance and a solemn yet tender 
 reach of thought interposed among those intense appeals 
 that asserted the sacred superiority of the subject and the 
 man. He was already speaking when I reached the scene of 
 terrors. I can give but an outline of his language. 
 
 He pointed to the heaiUess bodies round him. 
 
 "For what have these my brethren died? Answer me, 
 priests of Eome; what temple did they force — what altar 
 overthrow — what insults offer to the slightest of your public 
 celebrations? Judges of Eome, what offense did they commit 
 against the public peace? Consuls, where were they found in 
 rebellion against the Roman majesty? People of Rome, 
 whom among your thousands can charge one of these holy 
 dead with extortion, impurity, or violence ; can charge them 
 with anything but the patience that bore wrong without a 
 murmur, and the charity that answered tortures only by 
 prayer? " 
 
 He then touched upon the nature of his faith. 
 
 "Do I stand here demanding to be believed for opinions? 
 No, but for facts. I have seen the sick made whole, the 
 lame walk, the blind receive their sight, by the mere name of 
 Him whom you crucified. I have seen men, once ignorant of 
 all languages but their own, speaking with the language of 
 every nation under heaven ; the still greater wonder of the 
 timid defying all fear, the unlearned instantly made wise in 
 the mysteries of things divine and human, the peasant putting 
 to shame the learned — awing the proud, enlightening the 
 darkened ; alike in the courts of kings, before the furious peo- 
 ple, and in the dungeon, armed with an irrepressible spirit of 
 knowledge, reason, and truth that confounded their adver- 
 saries. I have seen the stiU greater wonder of the renewed 
 heart; the impure suddenly abjuring vice; the covetous, the 
 cruel, the faithless, the godless, gloriously changed into the 
 holy, the gentle, the faithful, worshipers of the true God in 
 spirit and in truth — the conquest of the passions which defied 
 
 « 161 
 
tTarrs G^bou XTUl IT Come 
 
 ■BlK^rttb of your philosopliers, your tribunals, your rewards, and your ter- 
 rors, achieved in the one mighty name. Those are facts, 
 things which I have seen with these eyes ; and who that had 
 seen them could doubt that the finger of God was there? 
 Dared I refuse my belief to the divine mission of the Being by 
 whom, and even in memory of whom, things baffling the 
 proudest human means were wrought before my senses? Irre- 
 sistibly compelled by facts to believe that Christ was sent by 
 God, I was with equal force compelled to believe in the doc- 
 trines declared by that glorious revealer of the King alike of 
 quick and dead. And thus I stand before you this day, at 
 the close of a long life of labor and love, a Christian." 
 
 This appeal to the understanding, divested as it was of all 
 studied ornament, was listened to by the immense multitude 
 with the most unbroken interest. It was delivered with the 
 strong simplicity of conviction. He then spoke of the 
 Founder of his faith. 
 
 " Men may be insane for opinions, but who can be insane 
 for facts? The coming of Christ was prophesied a thousand 
 years before ! From the beginning of His ministry. He lived 
 wholly before the eyes of mankind. His life corresponds with 
 the prophecies in circumstances totally beyond human conjec- 
 ture, contrivance, or power. The Virgin Mother, the village 
 in which He was born, the lowliness of His cradle, the wor- 
 ship paid to Him there, the hazard of His life — all were pre- 
 dicted. Could the infant have shaped the accomplishment of 
 those predictions? The death that He should die, the hands 
 by which it was to be inflicted, even the draft that He 
 should drink, the raiment that He should be clothed in, and 
 the sepulcher in which He should be laid, were predicted. 
 Could the man have shaped their accomplishment? The time 
 of His resting in the tomb. His resurrection. His ascent to 
 heaven, the sending of the Holy Spirit after He was gone — 
 all were predicted; all were beyond human collusion, human 
 power, even beyond human thought; all were accomplished! 
 Is not here the finger of God? 
 
 " Those things, too, were universally known to the nation 
 most competent to detect collusion. Did Christ come to 
 
XHic Deatb of a ilBattBt 
 
 Rome, where every new religion finds adherents, and where Cbrtst, 
 all pretensions might he advanced without fear ; where a de- ^^^ *^™'^' ^* 
 ceiver might have quoted prophecies that never existed, and 
 vaunted of wonders done where there was no eye to detect 
 them? No ! His life was spent in Judea. He made His ap- 
 peal to the Scriptures, in a country where they were in the 
 hands of the nation. His miracles were brought before the 
 eyes of a priesthood that watched him step by step ; His doc- 
 trines were spoken, not to the mingled multitude holding a 
 thousand varieties of opinion, and careless of all, but to an 
 exclusive race, subtle in their inquiries, eager in their zeal, 
 and proud of their peculiar possession of divine knowledge. 
 
 " Yet against His life. His miracles, or His doctrine, what 
 charge could they bring? N'one. There is not a single stig- 
 ma on the purity of His conduct ; the power of His wonder- 
 working control over man and nature; the holiness, wis- 
 dom, and grandeur of His views of Providence; the truth, 
 charity, and meekness of His counsels to man. Their single 
 source of hatred was the pride of worldly hearts, that expected 
 a king where they were to have found a teacher. , 
 
 "Their single charge against Him was His prophecy that 
 there should be an end to their Temple and their state within 
 the life of man. 
 
 " They crucified Him ; He died in prayer, that His murder- 
 ers might be forgiven ; and His prayer was mightily answered. 
 He had scarcely risen to His eternal throne when thousands 
 believed and were forgiven. To Him be the glory, forever 
 and ever ! " 
 
 All this was heard in wonder. I could see eyes lifted to 
 heaven, and lips as if moved in prayer. 
 
 " Compare Hun with your legislators. He gives the spirit 
 of all law in a single sentence : * Do unto others as you would 
 they should do unto you.' Compare Him with your priest- 
 hood. He gives a single prayer, containing the substance of 
 all that man can rationally implore of heaven. Compare 
 Him with your moralists. He lays the foundation of virtue 
 in love to God! Compare him with your sages. He leads a 
 life of privation without a murmur; He dies a death of shame, 
 
 163 
 
TTarts XTbou Zttl f dome 
 
 » ftce desertion, and agony, and His last breath is mercy! Compare 
 
 fiupiceft 
 
 Him with your conquerors. Without the shedding of a drop 
 of blood He has already conquered hosts that would have re- 
 sisted all the swords of earth; hosts of stubborn passions, 
 cherished vices, guilty perversions of the powers and faculties 
 of man. In proof of all, look on these glorious dead, whom 
 I shall join before the set of yonder sun. Yes, martyrs of 
 God! ye were His conquests, and ye too are more than con- 
 querors, through Him. that loved us and gave Himself for us. 
 But a triumph shall come, magnificent and terrible, when all 
 eyes shall behold Him, and the ti-ibes of the earth, even they 
 who pierced Him, shall mourn." 
 
 Some raged, more listened, many wept. He spoke with 
 stUl loftier energy. 
 
 "Then rejoice, ye dead! for ye shall rise; ye shall be 
 clothed with glory; ye shall be as the angels, bright and 
 powerful, immortal, intellectual kings ! ' For tho worms de- 
 stroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.' " 
 
 He paused, as if he saw the vision. 
 
 The sky was cloudless ; the sun was in the west, but shining 
 in his broadest beams ; the whole space before me was flooded 
 with light ; when, as I gazed upon the martyr, I saw a gleam 
 issue from his upturned face; it increased to brightness, to 
 radiance, to an intense luster that made the sunlight utterly 
 pale. All was astonishment in the amphitheater, all was 
 awe. The old man seemed unconscious of the wonder that 
 invested him. He continued with his open hands lifted up 
 and his eyes fixed on heaven. The glory spread over his form, 
 and he stood before us robed in an effulgence which shot from 
 him, like a living fount of splendor, round the colossal circle. 
 Yet the blaze, tho it looked the very essence of light, was 
 strangely translucent ; we could see with undazzled eyes every 
 feature, and whether it was the working of my overwhelmed 
 mind, or a true change, the countenance appeared to have 
 passed at once from age to youth. A lofty joy, a look of su- 
 pernal grandeur, a magnificent yet ethereal beauty, had trans- 
 formed the features of the old man into the likeness of the 
 winged sons of Immortalifry! 
 
 164 
 
Ube S>eatb ot a ^attsr 
 
 He spoke again, and the first sound of Ms voice thiilled b cbrtetian's 
 through every bosom and made eveiy man start from his ***«" 
 seat. 
 
 "Men and brethren! it is the desire of your Father that 
 all should be saved — Jew and Gentile alike — for with Him 
 there is no respect of persons. He is the Father of all! 
 Christianity is not a philosophic dream, but a divine command 
 — the summons of the God of gods, that you should accept His 
 mercy — the opening of the gates of an eternal world ! It is not 
 a call to the practise of barren virtue, but a declaration of 
 reward mightier than the imagination of man can conceive. 
 Would you be immortals — would you be glorious as the stars 
 of heaven — would you possess eternal faculties of happiness, 
 supremacy, and knowledge? Ask for forgiveness of your evil, 
 in the name of Jesus of Nazareth! What is easier than the 
 price? What more transcendent than the reward? Who 
 shall tell the limit of the risen soul? What resistless power, 
 what more than regal majesty, what celestial beauty may be 
 in His fame J What expansion of intellect, what overflowing 
 tides of new sensation, what shapes of loveliness, what ra- 
 diant stores of thought and mysteries of exhaustless knowl- 
 edge, may be treasured for Him ! What endless ascent through 
 new ranks of being, each as much more glorious than the last 
 as the risen spirit is above man! For what can be the limit to 
 the power of God to make those happy, glorious, and mighty 
 whom He will? For what can be the bound to the fellow heirs 
 with Christ, their Leader in trial, their Leader in triumph? 
 Omnipotence for their protector, for their friend, for their 
 father! He who gave to us His own Son, will He not with 
 Him give us all things? " 
 
 The voice sank into prayer. 
 
 "King of kings! if through a long life I have labored in 
 Thy cause, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perUs 
 by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils 
 in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in 
 perils among false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in 
 watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness — 
 Thine alone be the praise, Thine the glory, Thou who hast 
 
 168 
 
XTarrs G:bou TTill V Come 
 
 Ube Kcrfrai ot brought me through them all, with a strong hand and an out- 
 stretched arm. And now, Lord, Thou who shalt change my 
 vile body into the likeness of Thy glorious body, be with Thy 
 servant in this last hour! Savior and God! receive my spirit, 
 that where Thou art, even I may be with Thee ! " 
 
 He was silent; the splendor gradually passed away from 
 his form, and he knelt upon the sand, bowing his neck to 
 receive the blow. But to lift a hand against such a being 
 seemed now an act of profanation. The ax-bearer dared not 
 approach. The spectators sat hushed in involuntary homage ; 
 'and not a word, not a gesture broke the silence of venera- 
 tion. 
 
 At length a flourish of distant trumpets was heard. Cav- 
 alry galloped forward, announciag the Emperor, and Nero, 
 habited as a charioteer in the games, drove his g^ilded car into 
 the arena. The Christian had risen and, with his hands clasped 
 upon his breast, was awaiting death. Nero cast the headsman 
 an execration at his tardiness ; the ax swept round, and when 
 I glanced again, the old man lay beside his brethren. 
 
 This man I had sacrificed. My heart smote me ; I would 
 have fled the place of blood, but I was in the midst of guards ; 
 more of my victims were to be slain, and I must be the shrink- 
 ing witness of all. The Emperor's arrival commenced the 
 grand display. He took his place under the curtains of the royal 
 pavilion. The dead were removed ; perfumes were scattered 
 through the air ; rose-water was sprinkled from silver tubes 
 upon the exhausted multitude; music resounded, incense 
 burned, and in the midst of those preparations of luxury the 
 lion-combat began. 
 
 A portal of the arena opened and the combatant, with a 
 mantle thrown over his face and figure, was led iu surrounded 
 by soldiery. The lion roared and ramped agaiust the bars of 
 its den at the sight. The guard put a sword and buckler iuto 
 the hands of the Christian, and he was left alone. He drew 
 the mantle from his face, and looked slowly and steadily round 
 the amphitheater. His fine countenance and lofty bearing 
 raised a universal sound of admiration. He might have stood 
 for an Apollo encountering the Python. His eyes at last 
 
 166 
 
Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Wagnalla Company, N. Y. and London. 
 
 I heard the gnashing of his white fangs above me. 
 
 See page 169. 
 
Xlbe Deatb ot a jflibactsc 
 
 turned on mine. Could I believe my senses? Constantius constantius 
 was before me! anbtbexion 
 
 All my rancor vanisbed. In tbe moment before, I could 
 have struck tbe betrayer to tbe beart ; I could bave called on 
 tbe severest vengeance of man and Heaven to smite tbe de- 
 stroyer of my cbild. But to see bim hopelessly doomed ; tbe 
 man whom I had honored for bis noble qualities, whom I bad 
 even loved, whose crime was at worst but tbe crime of giving 
 way to tbe strongest temptation that can bewilder mau ; to 
 see this noble creature flung to tbe savage beast, torn piece- 
 meal before my eyes — I would have cried to earth and heaven 
 to save him. But my tongue cleaved to tbe roof of my mouth ; 
 I would bave thrown myself at the feet of Nero, but I sat like 
 a man of stOne, pale, paralyzed — tbe beating of my pulse 
 stopped — my eyes alone alive. 
 
 The gate of the den was now thrown back, and tbe lion 
 rushed in with a roar and a bound that bore him half across 
 tbe arena. I saw tbe sword glitter in the air ; when it waved 
 again it was covered with blood, and a howl told that tbe 
 blow bad been driven home. Tbe lion, one of the largest 
 from Numidia, and made furious by thirst and hunger, an ani- 
 mal of prodigious power, crouched for an instant as if to make 
 sure of bis prey, crept a few paces onward, and sprang at tbe 
 victim's throat. He was met by a second wound, but bis 
 impulse was iiTCsistible, and Constantius was flung upon tbe 
 ground. 
 
 A cry of natural horror rang round tbe amphitheater. 
 The struggle was now for instant life or death. They rolled 
 over each other ; the lion reared on bis hind feet and with 
 gnasbiug teeth aud distended talons plimged on tbe man; 
 again they rose together. Anxiety was now at its wildest 
 height. The sword swung round the champion's bead in 
 bloody circles. They fell again. The hand of Constantius 
 had grasped tbe lion's mane, and tbe furious bounds of the 
 monster could not loose his hold; but his strength was evi- 
 dently giving way; he still struck terrible blows, but each 
 was weaker than the one before ; till, collecting bis whole 
 force for a last effort, be darted one mighty blow into tbe 
 
 167 
 
V^atrs TTbou ;i;fll f dome 
 
 Ubc lion's throat and sank. The savage yelled, and, spouting out 
 Salome blood, fled bello-wing round the arena. But the hand still 
 grasped the mane, and his conqueror was dragged whirling 
 through the dust at his heels. A universal outcry now arose 
 to save Constantius, if he were not already dead. But the 
 lion, tho bleeding from every vein, was still too terrible, and 
 all shrank from the hazard. At length the grasp gave way 
 and the body lay motionless on the ground. 
 
 "WTiat happened for some moments after I know not. 
 There was a struggle at the portal ; a woman forced her way 
 through the guards, rushed in alone, and flung herself upon 
 the victim. The sight of a new prey roused the lion ; he tore 
 the ground with his talons ; he lashed his streaming sides with 
 his tail ; he lifted up his mane and bared his fangs. But he 
 came no longer with a bound; he dreaded the sword, and 
 crept, snuffing the blood on the sand, and stealing round the 
 body in circuits still duninishing. 
 
 The confusion in the vast assemblage was now extreme. 
 Voices innumerable called for aid. Women screamed and 
 fainted. Even the hard-hearted populace, accustomed as 
 they were to the sacrifices of life, were roused to honest 
 flu'ses. The guards grasped their arms, and waited but for a 
 sign of mercy from the Emperor. But Nero gave no sign. I 
 glanced upon the woman's face. It was Salome! I sprang 
 upon my feet. I called on her name ; I implored her to fly 
 from that place of death, to come to my arms, to think of the 
 agonies of all who loved her. 
 
 She had raised the head of Constantius on her knee, and 
 was wiping the pale visage with her hair. At the sound of 
 my voice she looked up, and calmly casting back the locks 
 from her forehead, fixed her gaze upon me. She still knelt ; 
 one hand supported the head, and with the other she pointed to 
 it, as her only answer. I again adjured her. There was the 
 sUence of death among the thousands round me. A sudden 
 fire flashed into her eye — her cheek burned. She waved her 
 hand with an air of superb sorrow. 
 
 "I am come to die," she uttered, in a lofty tone. "This 
 bleeding body was my husband. I have no father. The world 
 
 168 
 
tibe Death of a ^attgc 
 
 contains for me but this clay in my arms. Yet," and she Ube Ens oi tbe 
 kissed the ashy lips before her, " yet, my Constantius, it was '^'""''"t 
 to save that father that your generous heart defied the peril of 
 this hour. It was to redeem him from the hand of evil that 
 you abandoned our quiet home ! Yes, cruel father, here lies 
 the preserver who threw open your dungeon, who led you safe 
 through conflagration, who to the last moment of his liberty 
 only thought how he might protect you." 
 
 Tears at length fell in floods from her eyes. 
 
 "But," said she, in a tone of wild power, "he was be- 
 trayed, and may the Power whose thunders avenge the cause 
 of His people pour down just retribution upon the head that 
 dared " 
 
 I heard my own condemnation about to be unconsciously pro- 
 nounced by the lips of my child. Wound up to the last de- 
 gree of suffering, I tore my way, leaped on the bars before me, 
 and plunged into the arena by her side. The height was stua- 
 niug ; I tottered forward a few paces, and fell. The lion gave 
 a roar and sprang upon me. I lay helpless under him ; I felt 
 his fiery breath; I saw his lurid eye glaring; I heard the 
 gnashing of his white fangs above me 
 
 An exulting shout arose. I saw him reel as if struck — gore 
 filled his jaws. Another mighty blow was driven to his heart. 
 He sprang high into the air with a howl. He dropped: — he 
 was dead! The amphitheater thundered with acclamation. 
 
 With Salome cliuging to my bosom, Constantius raised me 
 from the ground. The roar of the lion had roused him from 
 his swoon, and two blows saved me. The falchion was brok- 
 en in the heart of the monster. The whole multitude stood 
 up supplicating for our lives, in the name of filial piety and 
 heroism. Nero, devil as he was, dared not resist the strength 
 of the popular feeling; he waved a signal to the guards; the 
 portal was opened, and my children, sustaining my feeble 
 steps, and showered with garlands and ornaments from innu- 
 merable hands, slowly led me from the arena. 
 
 END 0¥ BOOK I. 
 
 160 
 
CHAPTER XXn 
 The Year of Jubilee 
 
 The first rage of the persecution was at an end; '" thepopu- h iRetro«pect 
 lar thirst for blood was satiated. The natural admiration that 
 follows fortitude and iunocence, and the natural hatred that 
 consigns a tyrant to the execration of his time and of poster- 
 ity, found their way, and Nero dared murder no more. I 
 voluntarily shared the prison of Constantius and my child. 
 Its doors were now set open. The liberality of my people 
 supplied the means of returning to Judea, and we hastened 
 down the Tiber in the first vessel that spread her sails from 
 this throne of desolation. 
 
 The chances that had brought us together were soon ex- 
 plained. Salome, ujged to desperation by the near approach 
 of her marriage, and anxious to save herself from the perjury 
 of vowing her love to one unpossessed of her heart, had flown 
 with Constantius to Caesarea. The only person in their con- 
 fidence was the domestic who betrayed me into the hands of 
 the procurator, and who assisted them only that he might lure 
 me from home. 
 
 At Caesarea they were wedded, and remained in conceal- 
 ment, under the protection of the young Septimius. My 
 transmission to Rome struck them with terror, and Constan- 
 tius instantly embarked to save me by his Italian influence. 
 The attempt was surrounded with peril, but Salome would not 
 be left behind. Disguised, to avoid my possible refusal of 
 life at his hands, he followed me step by step. There were 
 many of our people among the attendants and even in the 
 higher offices of the court. The Empress had, in her re- 
 proaches to Nero, disclosed the new barbarity of my sentence. 
 Ko time was to be lost. Constantius, at the imminent hazard 
 of life, entered the palace. He saw the block already erected 
 
 173 
 
TTatrg Cbou tTfll f Come 
 
 ' TOe «etum in the garden before the window, where Nero sat inventing a 
 melody which was to grace my departure. The confusion of 
 the fire offered the only escape. I was witness of his conster- 
 nation when he made so many fruitless efforts to penetrate 
 to the place where Salome remained in the care of his rela- 
 tives. When I scaled the hurmng mansion, he desperately 
 followed, lost his way among the ruins, and was giving up all 
 hope when, wrapped in fire and smoke, Salome fell at his 
 feet. He bore her to another mansion of his family. It had 
 given shelter to the chief Christians. They were seized. His 
 young wife scorned to survive Constantius ; and chance and 
 my own fortunate desperation alone saved me from seeing 
 their martyrdom. 
 
 We returned to Judea. In the first embrace of my family 
 all was forgotten and forgiven. My brother rejoiced in Sa- 
 lome's happiness; and even her rejected kinsman, despite his 
 reluctance, acknowledged the claims of biTn who had saved the 
 life of the father, to the daughter's hand. 
 
 What perception of health is ever so exquisite as when we 
 first rise from the bed of sickness? What enjoyment of the 
 heart is so full of delight as that which follows extreme suf- 
 fering? I had but just escaped the most formidable personal 
 hazards; I had escaped the still deeper suffering of seeing 
 ruin fall on beings whom I would have died to rescue. Sa- 
 lome's heart, overflowing with happiness, gave new brightness 
 to her eyes and new animation to her lovely form. She 
 danced with involuntary joy, she sang, she laughed; her 
 fancy kindled into a thousand sparklings. Beautiful being ! 
 in my visions thou art still before me. I clasp thee to my 
 widowed heart, and hear thy sweet voice, sweeter than the 
 fountain in the desert to the pilgrim, cheering me in the midst 
 of my more than pilgrimage. 
 
 An accession of opulence gave the only increase, if increase 
 could be given, to the happiness that seemed within my reach. 
 The year of Jubilee arrived. Abolished as the chief customs 
 of Judea had been by the weakness and guilt of idolatrous 
 kings and generations, they were still observed by all who 
 honored the faith of their fathers. The law of Jubilee was 
 
 174 
 
Zbe l?eac of jubilee 
 
 sacred in our mountains ; it -was tke law of a ■wisdom and Buring tbe 
 benevolence above man. Snbuee 
 
 Its peculiar adaptation to Israel, its provision for the virtue 
 and happiaess of the individual, and its safeguard of the 
 public strength and constitutional integrity, were unrivaled 
 amongst the finest ordinances of the ancient world. 
 
 On the entrance of the Israelites into Canaan, the land was 
 divided, by the inspired command, among the tribes accord- 
 ing to their numbers. To each family a portion was assignd 
 as a gift from heaven. The gift was to be inalienable. The 
 estate might be sold for a period; but in the fiftieth year, on 
 the evening of the Day of Atonement, in the month of Tishri, 
 the sound of the trumpets from the sanctuary, echoed by 
 thousands of voices from every mountaia-top, proclaimed the 
 Jubilee. Then returned, without purchase, every family to 
 its origiaal possessions. All the more abject degradations 
 of poverty, the wearing out of families, the hopeless ruin, 
 were obviated by this great law. The most undone being in 
 the limits of Judea had stiU a hold iu the land. His ruin 
 could not be final, perhaps could not extend beyond a few 
 years ; in the last extremity he could not be scorned as one 
 whose birthright was extinguished ; the Jubilee was to raise 
 him up and place the outcast in the early rank of the sons of 
 Israel. All the higher feeliugs were cherished by this incom- 
 parable hope. The man, conscious of his future possessions, 
 retained the honorable pride of property under the sternest 
 privations. The time was hurrying on when he should stand 
 on an equality with mankind, when his worn spirit should be- 
 gin the world again with fresh vigor, if he were young ; or 
 when he should sit under the vine and the fig-tree of his fa- 
 thers, if his age refused again to struggle for the distinctions 
 of the world. 
 
 The agrarian law of Rome and Sparta, feeble efforts to es- 
 tablish this true foundation of personal and political vigor, 
 showed at once both the natural impulse and the weakness of hu- 
 man wisdom. The Eoman plunged the people into furious dis- 
 sensions, which perished almost in their birth. The Spartan 
 was secured for a time only by barbarian prohibitions of money 
 
 176 
 
tlatrs ^bou XLttl IT dome 
 
 ttbe HUotmcnt and commerce — a code whicli raised an iron wall against civ- 
 ilization, turned the people iato a perpetual soldiery, and 
 finally, by the mere result of continual war, overthrew liberty, 
 dominion, and name. 
 
 The Jubilee was for a peculiar people, restricted by a divine 
 interposition from increase beyond the original number. But 
 who shall say how far the same benevolent interposition might 
 not have been extended to all nations, if they had revered the 
 original compact of heaven with man? How far throughout 
 the earth the provisions for each man's wants might not have 
 been secured — the overwhelming superabundance of portion- 
 less life that fills the world with crime might not have been re- 
 strained ; how far despotism, that growth of desperate abject- 
 ness of the understanding and gross corruption of the senses, 
 might not have been repelled by manly knowledge and native 
 virtue? But the time may come. 
 
 In the first allotments of the territory, ample domains had 
 been appointed for the princes and leaders of the tribes. One 
 of those princedoms now returned to me, and I entered upon 
 the inheritance of the leaders of Naphtali, a large extent of 
 hill and valley, rich with corn, olive, and vine. The antiq- 
 uity of possession gave a kind of hallowed and monumental 
 interest to the soil. I was master of its wealth, but I in- 
 dulged a loftier feeling in the recollection of those who had 
 trod the palace and the plain before me. Every chamber bore 
 the trace of those whom the history of my country had taught 
 me to reverence; and often, when in some of the fragrant 
 evenings of summer I have flung myself among the thick beds 
 of bloom that spread spontaneously over my hills, the spirits 
 of the loved and honored seemed to gather round me. I saw 
 once more the matron gravity and the virgin grace ; even the 
 more remote generations, those great progenitors who with 
 David fought the Philistine ; the solemn chieftains who with 
 Joshua followed the Ark of the Covenant through toil and 
 battle into the promised land ; the sainted sages who witnessed 
 the giving of the law, and worshiped Him who spake in 
 thunder from Sinai ; all moved before me, for all had trod the 
 very ground on which I gazed. Could I transfer myself back 
 
 176 
 
OTe Beat ot jubilee 
 
 to their time, on that spot I should stand among a living -cbe 
 circle of heroic and glorious beings before whose true glory "yiSm ** 
 the pomps of earth were vain; the hearers of the prophets 
 themselves ; the servants of the man of miracle, the compan- 
 ions of the friend of Grod ; nay, distraction that surpasses hu- 
 man thought, themselves the chosen of heaven. 
 
 The cheering occupations of rural life were to be henceforth 
 pursued on a scale more fitting my rank. I was the first 
 chieftain of my tribe, the man by whose wisdom multitudes 
 were to be guided, and by whose benevolence multitudes were 
 to be sustained. I felt that miugled sense of rank and re- 
 sponsibility which with the vain, the ignorant, or the vicious 
 is the strongest temptation to excess, but with the honorable 
 and intelligent constitutes the most pleasurable and the most 
 elevated state of the human mind. 
 
 Yet what are the fortunes of man but a ship launched on 
 an element whose essence is restlessness? The very wind, 
 without which we can not move, gathers to a storm and we 
 are undone ! The tyranny of our conquerors had for a few 
 months been paralyzed by the destruction of Eome. But the 
 governor of Judea was not to be long withheld, where plunder 
 allured the most furious rapacity that perhaps ever hungered 
 ia the heart of man. I was iu the midst of our harvest, sur- 
 rounded with the fruitage of the year and enjoying the sights 
 and sounds of patriarchal life, when I received the formidable 
 summons to present myself again before Floras. Imprison- 
 ment and torture were in the command. He had heard of my 
 opulence, and I knew how little his insolent cupidity would 
 regard the pardon under which I had returned. I determined 
 to retire into the mountains and defy him. 
 
 But the Eoman plunderer had the activity of his country- 
 men. On the very night of my receiving the summons I was 
 roused from sleep by the outcries of the retainers, who in that 
 season of heat lay in the open air round the palace. I started 
 from my bed, only to see with astonishment the courtyards 
 filled with cavalry, galloping in pursuit of the few peasants 
 who still fought for their lord. There was no time to be lost ; 
 the torches were already in the hands of the soldiery, and I 
 
 12 m 
 
Vatcs Cbou Tlill f Come 
 
 "C^ iftMcue of must be taken or burned alive. Constantius was instantly at 
 *" "* my side. I ordered the trumpet to be sounded on the hills 
 and we rushed out together, spear in hand. The Eomans, 
 alarmed by resistance where they had counted upon capture 
 without a blow, fell back. The interval was fatal to them. 
 Their retreat was intercepted by the whole body of the peas- 
 antry, at length effectually roused. The scythe and reaping- 
 hook were deadly weapons to horsemen cooped up between 
 walls, and in midnight. No efforts of mine could stop the 
 havoc, when once the fury of my people was roused. A few 
 escaped, who had broken wildly away in the first onset. The 
 rest were left to cover the avenues with the first sangruinary 
 offerings of the final war of Judea. 
 
 I felt that this escape could be but temporary, for the Ro- 
 man policy never forgave until the slightest stain of defeat 
 was wiped away. All was consternation in my family, and 
 the order for departure, whatever tears it cost, found no oppo- 
 sition. In a few hours our camels and mules were loaded, 
 our horses caparisoned, and we were prepared to quit the 
 short-lived pomp of the house of my fathers. Constantius 
 alone did not appear. This noble-minded being had won 
 even upon me, until I considered him the substitute for my 
 lost son ; and I would run the last hazard rather than leave 
 him to the Roman mercy. With the women, the interest was 
 expressed by a declared resolution not to leave the spot until 
 he was found. The caravan was broken up and all desire of 
 escape was at an end. 
 
 At the close of a day of search through every defile of the 
 country, he was seen returning at the head of some peasants 
 bearing a body on a litter. I flew to meet him. He was in 
 deep affliction, and drawing off the mantle which covered the 
 face, he showed me Septimius. 
 
 "In the flight of the Romans," said he, "I saw a horseman 
 making head against a crowd. His voice caught my ear. I 
 rushed forward to save him, and he burst through the circle 
 at full speed. But by the light of the torches I could perceive 
 that he was desperately wounded. When day broke, I tracked 
 bim by his blood. His horse, gashed by scythes, had fallen 
 
 178 
 
XSbe ^etiv of jubilee 
 
 under him. I found my unfortunate friend lying senseless iRoman 
 beside a rill, to which he had crept for water." ^ "' 
 
 Tears fell from his eyes as he told the brief story, I too 
 remembered the generous interposition of the youth, and when 
 I looked upon the paleness of those fine Italian features that 
 I had so lately seen lighted up with living spirit, and in a 
 scene of regal luxury, I felt a pang for the uncertainty of 
 human things. But the painful part of the moral was spared 
 us. The young Roman's wounds were stanched, and in an 
 enemy and a Eoman I found the means of paying a debt of 
 gratitude. His appearance among the troops sent to seize me 
 had been only a result of his anxiety to save the father of his 
 friends. He had accidentally discovered the nature of the 
 order and hoped to anticipate its execution. But he arrived 
 only in time to be involved in the confusion of the flight. 
 Pursued and wounded by the peasantry, he lost his way, and 
 but for the generous perseverance of Gonstantius he must 
 have died. 
 
 The public information which he brought was of the most 
 important kind. In the Roman councils, the utter subjuga- 
 tion of Judea was resolved on; the last spark of national 
 independence was to be extinguished, tho in the blood of 
 the last native; a Roman colony established in our lands; 
 the Roman worship introduced ; and Jerusalem profaned by a 
 statue of Nero, and sacrifices to him as a god, on the altar of 
 the sanctuary. To crush the resistance of the people, the 
 legions, to the number of sixty thousand men, were under 
 orders from proconsular Asia, Egypt, and Europe. The most 
 distinguished captain of the empire, Vespasian, was called 
 from Britain to the command, and the whole military strength 
 of Rome was prepared to follow up the blow. 
 
 I summoned the chief men of the tribe. My temperament 
 was warlike. The seclusion and studies of my early life had 
 but partially suppressed my natural delight in the vividness 
 of martial achievement. But the cause that now summoned 
 me was enough to have kindled the dullest peasant into the 
 soldier. I had seen the discipline of the enemy; I had made 
 myself master of their system of war. Fortifications wher- 
 
 179 
 
TTatts Ebou ^ill t Come 
 
 TOe principlea ever a stone could be piled upon a hill ; provisions laid up in 
 large quantities wherever they could be secured; small bodies 
 of troops practised in maneuver, and perpetually in motion 
 between the fortresses ; a general base of operations to which 
 all the movements referred — were the simple principles that 
 had made them conquerors of the world. I resolved to give 
 them a speedy proof of my pupilage. 
 
 18C 
 
CHAPTER XXm 
 
 Preparing for an Attack 
 
 Indecision in tlie beginning of war is worse than war. I trbe Hope 
 decided that whatever were the consequences, the sword must 
 be unsheathed without delay. With Eleazar and Constantius, 
 I cast my eyes over the map, and examined on what point the 
 first blow should fall. The proverbial safety of a multitude 
 of councilors was obviously disregarded in the smaUness of 
 my council ; yet few as we were, we differed upon every point 
 but one, that of the certainty of our danger ; the promptitude 
 of Roman vengeance suffered no contest of opinion. Eleazar, 
 with a spirit as manly as ever, faced hazard, yet gave his 
 voice for delay. 
 
 "The sole hope of success," said he, "must depend on rous- 
 ing the popular mind. The Roman troops are not to be 
 beaten by any regular army in the world. If we attack them 
 on the ordinary principles of war, the result can only be de- 
 feat, slaughter in dungeons, and deeper slavery. If the nation 
 can be aroused, numbers may prevail over discipline ; variety 
 of attack may distract science ; the desperate boldness of the 
 insurgents may at length exhaust the Roman fortitude, and a 
 glorious peace will then restore the country to that independ- 
 ence for which my life would be a glad and ready sacrifice. 
 But you must first have the people with you, and for that 
 purpose you must have the leaders of the people " 
 
 "What!" interrupted I, "must we first mingle in the ca- 
 bals of Jerusalem and rouse the frigid debaters of the Sanhe- 
 drin into action? Are we first to conciliate the irreconcilable, 
 to soften the furious, to purify the corrupt? If the Romans 
 are to be our tyrants till we can teach patriotism to faction, 
 we may as well build the dungeon at once, for to the dungeon 
 we are consigned for the longest life among us. Death or 
 
 181 
 
XTatts ^bou ^ill ff Come 
 
 Saiatbiel's glory for me. There is no alternative between, not merely 
 the half slavery that we now live ia, and independence, but 
 between the most condign suffering and the most illustrious 
 security. If the people would rise through the pressure of 
 public injury, they must have risen long since ; if from private 
 violence, what town, what district, what family has not its 
 claim of deadly retribution? Yet here the people stand, after 
 a hundred years of those continued stimulants to resistance, as 
 unresisting as in the day when Pompey marched over the 
 threshold of the Temple. I know your generous friendship, 
 Eleazar, and fear that your anxiety to save me from the 
 chances of the struggle may bias your better judgment. But 
 •here I pledge myself, by all that constitutes the honor of man, 
 to strike at all risks a blow upon the Eoman crest that shall 
 echo through the land. What ! commit our holy cause in the 
 nursiug of those pampered hypocrites whose utter baseness of 
 heart you know still more deeply than I do? Linger till 
 those pestilent profligates raise their price with Floras by 
 betraying a design that will be the glory of every man who 
 draws a sword in it? Vaialy, madly ask a brood that, like 
 the serpent, engender and fatten among the ruins of their 
 country to discard their venom, to cast their fangs, to feel 
 for human feelings? As well ask the serpent itself to rise 
 from the original curse. It is the irrevocable nature of fac- 
 tion to be base until it can be mischievous ; to lick the dust 
 until it can sting ; to creep on its belly until it can twist its 
 folds around the victim. No! let the old pensionaries, the 
 bloated hangers-on in the train of every governor, the open 
 sellers of their country for filthy lucre, betray me when I 
 leave it in their power. To the field, I say — once and for all, 
 to the field." 
 
 My mind, at no period patient of contradiction, was fevered 
 by the perplexity of the time. I was about to leave the cham- 
 ber when Constantius gravely stopped me. 
 
 "My father," said he, with a voice calmer than his coun- 
 tenance, "you have hurt our noble kinsman's feelings. It 
 is not in an hour when our unanimity may fail that we 
 should suffer dissensions between those whose hearts are 
 
 183 
 
ipreparlng tor an Bttacft 
 
 alike embarked in tMs great cause. Let me mediate be- ube Support 
 . „ of tbe ipeople 
 
 tween you." 
 
 He led Eleazar back from the casement to whicli he bad 
 withdrawn to cool his blood, burning with the ofEense of my 
 language. 
 
 "Eleazar is in the right. The Eomans are irresistible by 
 any force short of the whole people. They have military 
 possession of the country — all your fortresses, all your posts, 
 all your passes. They are as familiar as you are with every 
 defile, mountain, and marsh; they surround you with con- 
 quered provinces on the north, east, and south ; your western 
 barrier is open to them while it is shut to you ; the sea is the 
 high-road of their armies, while at their first forbidding, you 
 dare not launch a galley between Libanus and Idumea. Noth- 
 ing can counterbalance this local superiority but the rising of 
 your whole people." 
 
 " Yet, are we to intrigue with the talkers in Jerusalem for 
 this? " interrupted I. " What less than a descended thunder- 
 bolt could rouse them to a sense that there is even a heaven 
 above them? " 
 
 " Still, we must have them with us, " said Constantius, " for 
 we must have all. Universality is the spirit of an insurrection- 
 ary war. If I were commander of a revolt, I should feel 
 greater confidence of success at the head of a single province 
 in which every human being was against the enemy, than 
 at the head of an empire partially in arms. The mind 
 even of the rudest spearsman is a great portion of him. 
 The boldest shrinks from the consciousness that hostility is 
 on all sides; that whether marching or at rest, watching 
 or sleeping, by night or by day, hostility is round him ; that 
 it is in the very air he breathes, in the very food he eats ; that 
 every face he sees is the face of one who wishes him slain ; 
 that every knife, even every trivial instrument of human use, 
 may be turned into a shedder of his blood. Those things, 
 perpetually confronting his mind, break it down until the 
 man grows reckless, miserable, undiscipliaed, and a dastard." 
 
 "Yet," observed Eleazar, "the constant robbery of an in- 
 surrectionary war must render it a favorite command." 
 
 183 
 
HaxtTS Ubou ^ill H Gome 
 
 ffionetanHus "Let me speak from experience," said Constaatius. "Two 
 a (Campaign years ago I was attached, with a squadron of galleys, to the 
 expedition against the tribes of Mount Taurus. While the 
 galleys wintered in Cyprus, I followed the troops up the hills. 
 Nothing had been omitted that would counteract the severity 
 of the season. Tents, provisions, clothing adapted to the 
 hills, even luxuries despatched from the islands, gave the 
 camps almost the indulgences of cities. The physical hard- 
 ships of the campaign were trivial compared with those of 
 hundreds in which the Romans had beaten regular armies. 
 Yet the discontent was indescribable, from the perpetual 
 alarms of the service. The mountaineers were not numerous 
 and were but half armed ; they were not disciplined at all. 
 A Eoman centurion would have outmaneuvered all their cap- 
 tains. But they were brave ; they knew nothing but to kill 
 or be killed, and it made no difference to them whether Death 
 did his work by night or by day. Sleep to us was scarcely 
 possible. To sit down on a march was to be leveled at by a 
 score of arrows ; to pursue the archers was to be lured into 
 some hollow, where a fragment of the rock above or a felled 
 tree, was ready to crush the legionaries. We chased them 
 from hill to hill ; we might as well have chased the vultures 
 and eagles that duly followed us, with the perfect certainty 
 of not being disappointed of their meal. Wherever the enemy 
 showed themselves they were beaten, but our victory was to- 
 tally fruitless. The next turn of the mountain road was a 
 stronghold, from which we had to expect a new storm of ar- 
 rows, lances, and fragments of rock. 
 
 "The mountaineers always had a retreat," he continued, 
 " If we drove them from the pinnacles of the hills, they were 
 in a moment in the valleys, where we must follow them at the 
 risk of falling down precipices and being swallowed up by tor- 
 rents, in which the strongest swimmer in the legions could not 
 live for a moment. If we drove them from the valleys, we saw 
 them scaling the mountains as if they had wings, and scoflSng at 
 our tardy and helpless movements, encumbered as we were with 
 baggage and armor. We at length forced our way through 
 the mountain range, and when with the loss of half the army 
 
 184 
 
prepacittd for an attack 
 
 we had reached their citadel, we found that the work was to Ube jforce of 
 be begun again. To remain where we were was to be starved; "'*° "" 
 we had defeated the barbarians, but they were as unconquered 
 as ever, and our only resource was to retrace our steps, which 
 we did at the expense of a battle every morning, noon, 
 evening, and night, with a ruinous loss of life and the total 
 abandonment of everything in the shape of baggage. The 
 defeat was of course hushed up, and according to the old 
 Roman policy, the escape was colored to a victory ; I had the 
 honor of carrying back the general into Italy, where he was 
 decreed an oration, a laurel crown, and a crowd of the usual 
 distinctions; but the triumph belonged to the men of the 
 mountains, and until our campaign is forgotten, no Roman 
 captain will look for his laurels in Mount Taurus again." 
 
 " Such forever be the fate of wars against the natural free- 
 dom of the brave, " said I ; " but the Cicilians had the advan- 
 tage of an almost impenetrable country. Three-fourths of 
 Judea is already in the enemy's possession." 
 
 "No country in which man can exist can be impenetrable to 
 an invading army," was the reply. "Natural defenses are 
 trifling before the vigor and dexterity of man. The true bar- 
 rier is in the hearts of the defenders. We were masters of 
 the whole range. We could not find a thousand men assem- 
 bled on any one point. Yet we were not the actual possessors 
 of a m0.e of ground beyond the square of our camp. We 
 never saw a day without an attack, nor ever lay down at night 
 without the certainty of some fierce attempt at a surprise. It 
 was this perpetual anxiety that broke the spirits of the troops. 
 All was in hostility to them. They felt that there was not a 
 secure spot withia the horizon. Every man whom they saw, 
 they knew to be one who either had drawn Roman blood or 
 who longed in his inmost soul to draw it. They dared not 
 pass by a single rock without a search for a lurking enemy. 
 Even a felled tree might conceal some daring savage, who was 
 content to die on the Roman spears, after having flung his 
 unerring lance among the ranks or shot an arrow that went 
 through the thickest corslet. I have seen the boldest of the 
 legionaries sink on the ground in absolute exhaustion of heart 
 
 185 
 
Uatte Cl)ou ^ill V Gome 
 
 SaiatMei'B with this hopeless aad •wearying -warfare. I have seen men 
 with muscles as strong as iron weep like children through 
 mere depression. With the harsher spirits, all was execration 
 aad bitterness, even to the verge of mutiny. With the more 
 generous all was regret at the waste of honor, mingled with 
 involuntary admiration of the barbarians who thus defied the 
 haughty courage and boasted discipline of the conquerors of 
 mankind. The secret spring of their resistance was its uni- 
 versality. Every man was embarked in the common cause. 
 There was no room for evasion under cover of a party dis- 
 posed to peace ; there was no Eoman interest among the peo- 
 ple, in which timidity or selfishness could take refuge. The 
 national cause had not a lukewarm friend ; the invaders had 
 not a dubious enemy. The line was drawn with the sword, 
 and the cause of national independence triumphed, as it ought 
 to triumph." 
 
 " But we are a people split into as many varieties of opinion 
 as there are provinces or even villages in Judea," observed 
 Eleazaj ; " the Jew loves to follow the opinions of the head 
 of his family, the chief man of his tribe, or even of the priest, 
 who has long exercised an influence over his district. We 
 have not the slavishness of the Asiatic, but we still want the 
 personal choice of the European. We must secure the lead- 
 ers, if we would secure the people." 
 
 "Men," said Constantius, "are intrinsically the same in 
 every climate under heaven. They will aU. hate hazaxd, where 
 nothing but hazard is to be gained. They will all linger for 
 ages in slavery, where the taskmaster has the policy to avoid 
 sudden violence; but they will all encounter the severest 
 trials, where in the hour of injury they find a leader prepared 
 to guide them to honor." 
 
 "And to that extent they shall have trial of me! " I ex- 
 claimed. " Before another Sabbath I shall make the experi- 
 ment of my fitness to be the leader of my countrymen. At the 
 head of my own tribe I will march to the Holy City, seize the 
 garrison, and from Herod's palace, from the very chair of 
 the Procurator, will I at once silence the voice of faction and 
 lift the banner to the tribes of Israel." 
 
 186 
 
preparing (or an Bttacli 
 
 "Nobly conceived," said Constantius, Hs countenance Ube sttonsboft 
 glowing with animation ; " blow upon blow is the true tactic ° ^ 
 of an insurrectionary war. We must strike at once, suddenly, 
 and boldly. The sword of him who would triumph in a re- 
 volt must not merely sound on the enemy's helmet, but cut 
 through it " 
 
 " Yet to a march on Jerusalem," said Eleazar, "the objec- 
 tions are palpable. The city would be out of all hope of a 
 surprise, difficult to capture, and beyond all chance to keep." 
 
 " Ever tardy, thwarting, and contradictory I " I exclaimed ; 
 " if the Eoman scepter lay under my heel, I should find Elea- 
 zar forbidding me to crush it. My miud is fixed ; I will hear 
 no more." 
 
 I started from my seat and paced the chamber. Eleazar 
 approached me. 
 
 " My brother," said he, holding out his hand with a for- 
 giving smile, "we must not differ. I honor your heart, 
 Salathiel ; I know your talents ; there is not a man in Judea 
 whom I should be prouder to see at the head of its councils. 
 I agree with you iu your views, and now I offer you myself 
 and every man whom I can influence to follow you to the 
 last extremity. The only question is, where the blow is to 
 faU." 
 
 Constantius had been gazing on the chart of Judea, which 
 lay between us on the table. 
 
 "If it be our object," said he, "to combine injury to the 
 Romans with actual advantage to ourselves, to make a trial 
 where failure can not be ruinous and where success may be 
 of measureless value, here is the spot." He pointed to 
 Masada." 
 
 The fortress of Masada was built by Herod the Great as 
 his principal magazine of arms. A fierce and successful sol- 
 dier, one of his luxuries was the variety and costliaess of his 
 weapons, and the royal armory of Masada was renowned 
 throughout Asia. Pride in the possession of such a trophy, 
 probably aided by some reverence for the memory of the friend 
 of Caesar and Antony, whom the legions still almost wor- 
 shiped as tutelar genii, originally saved it from the usual 
 
 187 
 
Uarrs Xlbou ^fll t Come 
 
 Sonstantfus Tdusv with US both : with all that the heart of man could love 
 Salatbiei beside him, he felt the pang of contrast, and when on acci- 
 dentally lifting his eyes, they met mine, the single conscious 
 look iaterchanged told the perturbation that preyed on both 
 in the heart's core. 
 
 I soon rose, and under pretense of having letters to de- 
 spatch to our friends ia Kome, retired to my chamber. There 
 lay the chart still on the table, the route to Masada marked 
 by pencil lines. With what breathlessness I now traced 
 every point and bearing of it! There, within a space over 
 which I could stretch my arm, was my world. In that little 
 boundary was I to struggle against the supremacy that cov- 
 ered the earth ! Those fairy hills, those scarcely visible rivers, 
 those remote cities, dots of human habitation, were to be 
 henceforth the places of siege and battle, memorable for the 
 destruction of human life, engrossing every energy of myself 
 and my countrymen, and big with the fates of generations on 
 generations. 
 
 It was dusk, and I was still devouring with my eyes this 
 chart of prophecy when Constantius entered. 
 
 "I have come," said he gravely, "to bid you farewell 
 for the night. In two days I hope we shall all meet again." 
 
 "No, my brave son," I interrupted, "we do not leave each 
 other to-night." 
 
 He looked surprised, " I must be gone this instant. Elea- 
 zar has done his part with the activity of his honest and 
 manly mind. Two miles off, in the valley under the date- 
 grove, I have left five hundred of the finest fellows that ever 
 sat a charger. In half an hour Sirius rises ; then we go, and 
 let the governor of Masada look to it ! Farewell, and wish 
 me good fortune." 
 
 " May every angel that protects the righteous cause hover 
 above your head ! " I exclaimed ; " but no farewell, for we go 
 together." 
 
 "Do you doubt my conduct of the enterprise?" asked 
 he strongly. "'Tis true I have been in the Roman service, 
 but that service I hated from the bottom of my soul. I was 
 a Greek and bound to Rome no longer than she could hold me 
 
 190 
 
Ube Departure ot Constanttus 
 
 in her chain. If I could have found men to follow me, I constanHuB 
 should have done in Cjrprus what I now do iu Judea. The 
 countryman of Leonidas, Cimon, and Tuneleon was not born 
 to hug his slavery. I am now a son of Judea ; to her my 
 affections have been transplanted, and to her, if she does not 
 reject me, shall my means and my life be given." 
 
 He relaxed the belt from his waist and dropped it with 
 his simitar on the ground. I lifted it and placed it again in 
 his hand. 
 
 "No, Constantius, " I replied, "I honor your zeal, and 
 would confide in you if the world hung upon the balance. 
 But I can not bear the thought of lingering here while you are 
 in the field. My mind, within these few hours, has been on 
 the rack. I must take the chances with you. " 
 
 "It is utterly impossible," was his firm answer; "your 
 absence would excite instant suspicion. The Eoman spies are 
 everjnvhere. The natural result follows, that our march 
 would be intercepted, and I am not sure but that even now 
 we may be too late. That inconceivable sagacity by which 
 the Eomans seem to be masters of every man's secret has 
 been already at work ; troops were seen on the route to Ma- 
 sada this very day. Let it be known that the prince of 
 Naphtali has left his palace, and the dozen squadrons of Thra- 
 cian horse which I saw within those four days at Tiberias will 
 be riding through your domains before the next sunset." 
 
 This reflection cheeked me. "Well then," said I, "go, and 
 the protection of Him whose pillar of cloud led His people 
 through the sea and through the desert be your light in the 
 hour of peril ! " 
 
 I pressed his hand ; he turned to depart, but came back, and 
 after a slight hesitation said : " If Salome had once offended 
 her noble father by her flight, the offense was mine. Forgive 
 her, for her heart is still the heart of your child. She loves 
 you. If I fall, let the memory of our disobedience lie in my 
 grave ! " 
 
 His voice stopped, and mine could not break the silence. 
 
 "Let what will come," resumed he with an effort, "tell 
 Salome that the last word on my lips was her name." 
 
 191 
 
tTartB XTbou ttill 1 Come 
 
 Cbe ffestai He left the chamber, and I felt as if a portion of my being 
 had gone forth from me. 
 
 This day was one of the many festivals of our country, and 
 my halls echoed with sounds of enjoyment. The immense 
 gardens glittered with illumination in all the graceful devices 
 of "which our people were such masters, and when I looked 
 out for the path of Constantius, I was absolutely pained by 
 the sight of so much fantastic pleasure while my hero was 
 pursuing his way through darkness and danger. 
 
 At length the festival was over. The lights twinkled 
 fainter among the arbors, the sounds of glad voices sank, and I 
 saw from my casement the evidences of departure in the trains 
 of torches that moved up the surrounding hills. The sight of 
 a starlit sky has always been to me among the softest and 
 surest healers of the heart, and I gazed upon that mighty 
 scene which throws all human cares into such littleness, until 
 my composure returned. 
 
 The last of the guests had left the palace before I ventured 
 to descend. The vases of perfumes still breathed in the hall 
 of the banquet; the alabaster lamps were still burning; but 
 excepting the attendants who waited on my steps at a dis- 
 tance, and whose fixed figures might have been taken for stat- 
 ues, there was not a living being near me of the laughing and 
 joyous crowd that had so lately glittered, danced, and smiled 
 within those sumptuous walls. Yet what was this but a pic- 
 ture of the common rotation of life? Or by a yet more im- 
 mediate moral, what was it but a picture of the desertion that 
 might be coming upon me and mine? I sat down to extin- 
 guish my sullen philosophy in wine. But no draft that 
 ever passed the lip could extinguish the fever that brooded on 
 my spirit. I dreaded that the presence of my family might 
 force out my secret, and lingered with my eyes gazing, with- 
 out sight, on the costly covering of the board. 
 
 A sound of music from an inner haU to which Miriam and 
 her daughters had retired, aroused me. I stood at the door, 
 gazing on the group within. The music was a hymn with 
 which they closed the customary devotions of the day. But 
 there was something in its sound to me that I had never felt 
 
 193 
 
TTbe S>epartuce of Conetantfue 
 
 before. At the moment when those sweet voices were pour- a seautifut 
 ing out the gratitude of hearts as innocent and glowing as the '*"** 
 hearts of angels, a scene of horror might be acting. The hus- 
 band of Salome might be struggling with the Eoman sword; 
 nay, he might be lying a corpse under the feet of the cavalry, 
 that before morn might bring the news of his destruction in 
 the flames that might startle us from our sleep, and the 
 swords that might pierce our bosoms. 
 
 And what beings were those thus appointed for the sacri- 
 fice? The lapse of even a few years had perfected the natu- 
 ral beauty of my daughters. Salome's sparkling eye was 
 more brilliant ; her graceful form was molded into more easy 
 elegance, and her laughing lip was wreathed with a more play- 
 ful smile. Never did I see a creature of deeper witchery. 
 My Esther, my noble and dear Esther, who was perhaps the 
 dearer to me from her inheriting a tiage of my melancholy, 
 yet a melancholy exalted by genius into a charm, was this 
 night the leader of the song of holiness. Her large uplifted 
 eye glowed with the brightness of one of the stars on which 
 it was fixed. Her hands fell on the harp ia almost the atti- 
 tude of prayer, and the expression of her lofty and intellectual 
 countenance, crimsoned with the theme, told of a communion 
 with thoughts and beings above mortality. The hymn was 
 done, the voices had ceased, yet the inspiration still burned 
 in her soul ; her hands still shook from the chords' harmonies, 
 sweet, but of the wildest and boldest brilliancy; bursts and 
 flights of sound, like the rushing of the distant waterfall at 
 night, or the strange, solemn echoes of the forest in the first 
 swell of the storm. 
 
 Miriam and Salome sat beholding her in silent admiration 
 and love. The magnificent dress of the Jewish female 
 could not heighten the power of such beauty; but it filled 
 up the picture. The jeweled tiaras, the embroidered shawls, 
 the high-wrought and massive armlets, the silken robes 
 and sashes fringed with pearl and diamond, the profusion 
 of dazzling ornament that form the Oriental costume to 
 this day, were the true habits of the beings that then sat, un- 
 conscious of the delighted yet anxious eye that di'ank in the 
 
 IS 193 
 
trarrs tTbou Etll f Come 
 
 itbe jfate of loy of their presence. I saw before me the pomp of prinoe- 
 doms, investmg forms ■worthy of thrones. 
 
 My entrance broke off the harper's spell, and I found it a 
 hard task to answer the touching congratulations that flowed 
 upon me. But the hour waned, and I was again left alone 
 for the few minutes which it was my custom to give to medi- 
 tation before I retired to rest. I threw open the door that 
 led into a garden thick with the Persian rose and filling 
 the air with cool fragrance. At my first glance upward, I saw 
 Sirius — he was on the verge of the horizon. 
 
 The thoughts of the day again gathered over my soul. I 
 idly combined the fate of Constantius with the decline 
 of the star that he had taken for his signal. My senses lost 
 their truth, or contributed to deceive me. I fancied that I heard 
 sounds of conflict ; the echo of horses' feet rang in my ears. 
 A meteor that slowly sailed across the sky struck me as a 
 supernatural summons. My brain, fearfully excitable since 
 my great misfortune, at length kindled up such strong realities 
 that I found myself on the point of betraying the burden of 
 my spirit by some palpable disclosure. 
 
 Twice had I reached the door of Miriam's chamber to tell 
 her my whole perplexity. But I heard the voice of her at- 
 tendants within and again shrank from the tale. I ranged the 
 long galleries perplexed with capricious and strange torments 
 of the imagination. 
 
 "If he should fall," said I, "how shall I atone for the cru- 
 elty of sending him upon a service of such hopeless hazard — 
 a few peasants with naked breasts against Roman battlements? 
 What soldier would not ridicule my folly in hoping success ; 
 what man would not charge me with scorn of the life of my 
 kindred? The blood of my tribe wiQ be upon my head for- 
 ever. There sinks the prince of Naphtali ! In the grave of 
 my gallant son and his companions is buried my dream of 
 martial honor; the sword that strikes him cuts to the ground 
 my last ambition of delivering my country." 
 
 The advice of Constantius returned to my mind, but like the 
 meetii^ of two tides, it was only to increase the tumult within. 
 I felt the floor sha^e under my harried tread. I smote my 
 
 194 
 
Zbc departure of Conetantlus 
 
 forehead — it was covered with drops of agony. The voices flsicfam'B 
 ■within my wife's chamber had ceased. But was I to rouse her 
 from her sleep, perhaps the last quiet sleep that she r^as ever 
 to take, only to hear intelligence that must make her mxserable? 
 
 I leaned my throbbing forehead upon one of the marble 
 tables, as if to imbibe coolness from the stone. I felt a light 
 hand upon mine. Miriam stood beside me. 
 
 " Salathiel ! " pronounced she in an unshaken voice, " there 
 is something painful on your mind. Whether it be only a 
 duty on your part to disclose it to me, I shall not say ; but if 
 you think me fit to share your happier hours, must I have the 
 humiliation of feeling that I am to be excluded from your con- 
 fidence in the day when those hours may be darkened? " 
 
 I was silent, for to speak was beyond my strength, but I 
 pressed her delicate fingers to my bosom. 
 
 "Misfortune, my dear husband," resumed she, "is trivial 
 but when it reaches the mind. Oh, rather let me encounter 
 it in the bitterest privations of poverty and exile ; rather let 
 me be a nameless outcast to the latest year I have to live, than 
 feel the bitterness of being forgotten by the heart to which, 
 come life or death, mine is bound forever and ever." 
 
 I glanced up at her. Tears dropped on her cheeks, but her 
 voice was firm. 
 
 "I have observed you," said she, "in deep agitation during 
 the day, but I forbore to press you for the cause. I have lis- 
 tened now, till long past midnight, to the sound of your feet, 
 to the sound of groans and pangs wrung from your bosom ; 
 nay, to exclamations and broken sentences which have let me 
 most involuntarily into the knowledge that this disturbance 
 arises from the state of our country. I know your noble na- 
 ture, and I say to you, in this solemn and sacred hour of 
 danger, follow the guidance of that noble nature." 
 
 I oast my arms about her neck and imprinted upon her lips 
 a kiss as true as ever came from human love. She had taken 
 a weight from my soul. I detailed the whole design to her. 
 She listened with many a change from red to pale, and 
 many a tremor of the white hand that lay in mine. When I 
 ceased, the woman m. her broke forth in tears and sighs. 
 
 195 
 
TEarrs ^bou Hill 1 Come 
 
 o^Prtnceof "Yet," said she, "you must go to the field. Dismiss the 
 thought that for the selfish desire of looking even upon you 
 in safety here I should hazard the dearer honor of my lord. 
 It is right that Judea should make the attempt to shake off 
 her tyranny. The people can never be deceived in their own 
 cause. Kings and courts may be deluded into the choice of 
 incapacity, but the man -whom a people will follow from their 
 firesides must bear the stamp of a leader." 
 
 "Admirable being!" I exclaimed, "worthy to be honored 
 while Israel has a name ! Then I have your consent to fol- 
 low Constantius. By speed I may reach hitn before he can 
 have arrived at the object of the enterprise. Farewell, my 
 best-beloved — farewell ! " 
 
 She fell into my arms in a passion of tears, but at length 
 recovered and said : 
 
 " This is weakness, the mere weakness of surprise. Yes ; 
 go, prince of Naphtali. No man must take the glory from 
 you. Constantius is a hero, but you must be a king, and more 
 than a king ; not the straggler for the glories of royalty, but 
 for the glories of the rescuer of the people of God. The 
 first blow of the war must not be given by another, dear as 
 he is. The first triumph, the whole triumph, must be my 
 lord's." 
 
 She knelt down and poured out her soul to Heaven in elo- 
 quent supplication for my safety. I listened in speechless 
 homage. 
 
 "Now go," sighed she, "and remember in the day of battle 
 who will then be in prayer for you. Court no unnecessary 
 peril, for if you perish, which of us would desire to live? " 
 
 She again sank upon her knees, and I in reverent silence 
 descended from the gallery. 
 
 1W 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 Salaihtel in Strange Company 
 
 Mt prepaxations were quickly made. I divested myself of ®n tbe 1Rofl^ 
 D.y robes, led out my favorite barb, flung a haik over my 
 sTioulders, and by the help of my Arab turban might have 
 passed for a plunderer in any corner of Syria. This was done 
 unseen by any eye, for the crowd of attendants that thronged 
 the palace in the day were now stretched through the courts, 
 or on the terraces, fast asleep, under the double influence of a 
 day of feasting and a night of tepid summer air. I rode with- 
 out stopping until the sun began to throw up his yellow rays 
 through the vapors of the Lake of Tiberias. Then to ascer- 
 tain alike the progress of Constantius and to avoid the chances 
 of meeting with some of those Eoman squadrons which were 
 continually moving between the fortresses, I struck off the 
 road into a forest, tied my barb to a tree, and set forth to 
 reconnoiter the scene. 
 
 Traveling on foot was the common mode in a country 
 which, like Judea, was but little fitted for the breed of horses, 
 and I found no want of companions, Pedlers, peasants, dis- 
 banded soldiers, and probably thieves diversified my knowl- 
 edge of mankind within a few miles. I escaped under the 
 sneer of the soldier and the compassion of the peasant. The 
 first glance at my wardrobe satisfied the robber that I was not 
 worth the exercise of his profession, or perhaps that I was a 
 brother of the trade. I here found none of the repulsiveness 
 that makes the intercourse of higher life so unproductive. 
 Confidence was on every tongue, and I discovered, even in 
 the sandy ways of Palestine, that to be a judicious listener is 
 one of the first talents for popularity all over the world. But 
 of my peculiar objects I could learn nothing, though every 
 man vrhom I met had some story of the Bomans. I ascei- 
 
 IBT 
 
TTarcs Hbou tlill H Gome 
 
 Sabtbfei»cete tained, to my surprise, that the intelligence which Septimius 
 brought from the imperial cabinet was known to the multi- 
 tude. Every voice of the populace was full of tales, probably 
 reckoned among the profoundest secrets of the state. I have 
 made the same observation in later eras, and found, even in 
 the most formal mysteries of the most frowning governments, 
 the rumor of the streets outruns the cabinets. So it must be 
 while diplomatists have tongues and while women and domes- 
 tics have curiosity. 
 
 But if I were to rely on the accuracy of those willing poli- 
 ticians, the cause of independence was without hope. Humau 
 nature loves to make itself important, and the narrator of the 
 marvelous is always great, according to the distention of his 
 news. Those who had seen a cohort, invariably magnified it 
 into a legion ; a troop of cavalry covered half a province ; and 
 the cohorts marching from Asia Miuor and Egypt for our gar- 
 risons, were reckoned by the very largest enumeration within 
 the teller's capacity. 
 
 As I was sitting by a rivulet, moistening some of the com- 
 mon bread of the country which I had brought to aid my dis- 
 guise, I entered into conversation with one of those unhoused 
 exiles of society whom at the first glance we discern to be 
 nature's commoners, indebted to no man for food, raiment, or 
 habitation, the native dweller on the road. He had some of 
 the habitual jest of those who have no care, and congratulated 
 me on the size of my table, the meadow, and the unadulterated 
 purity of my potation, the brook. He informed me that he 
 came direct from the Nile, where he had seen the son of Ves- 
 pasian at the head of a hundred thousand men. A Syrian 
 soldier, returning to Damascus, who joined our meal, felt in- 
 dignant at the discredit thus thrown on a general under whom 
 he had received three pike-wounds and leave to beg his way 
 home. He swore by Ashtoreth that the force under Titus was 
 at least twice the number. 
 
 A third wanderer, a Boman veteran, of whom the remainder 
 was covered over with glorious patches, arrived just in time 
 to relieve his general from the disgrace of so limited a com- 
 mand, and another hundred thousand was instantly put under 
 
 198 
 
Salatbiel in Strange Oompans 
 
 his orders ; sanctioned by asseverations in the name of Jupiter a OonvcnaHon 
 Capitolinus, and as many others of the calendar as the patriot 
 could pronounce. This rapid recruiting threw the former 
 authorities into the background, and the old legionary was, 
 for the rest of the meal, the undisputed leader of the conver- 
 sation. They had evidently heard some rumor of our prepara- 
 tions. 
 
 "To suppose," said the veteran, "that those circumcized 
 dogs can stand against a regular-bred Roman general is sac- 
 rilege. Half his army, or a tenth of his army, would walk 
 through the laud, north and south, east and west, as easily as 
 I could walk through this brook." 
 
 "No doubt of it," said the Syrian, "if they had some of 
 our cavalry for flanking and foraging. " 
 
 "Aye, for anything but fighting, comrade," said the Roman 
 with a laugh. 
 
 "No; you leave out another capital quality," observed the 
 beggar, " for none can deny that whoever may be first in the 
 advance, the Syrians will be first in the retreat. There are 
 two maneuvers to make a complete soldier — how to get into 
 the battle, and how to get out of it. Now, the Syrians man- 
 age the latter in the most undoubted perfection." 
 
 "Silence, villain," exclaimed the Syrian, "or you have 
 robbed your last hen-roost in this world." 
 
 "He says nothing but the truth for all that," interrupted 
 the veteran. " But neither of us taxed your cavalry with cow- 
 ardice. No ; it was pure virtue. They had too much mod- 
 esty to take the way into the field before other troops, and too 
 much humanity not to teach them how to sleep without broken 
 bones." 
 
 The beggar, delighted at the prospect of a quarrel, gave the 
 assent that more embroiled the fray. 
 
 " Mark Antony did not say so," murmured the indignant 
 Syrian. 
 
 "Mark Antony!" cried the Roman, starting upon his sin- 
 gle leg, "glory to his name! But what could a fellow like 
 you know about Mark Antony? " 
 
 " I only served with him," dryly answered the Syrian. 
 
 199 
 
TTatts Hbou C:il[ f Gome 
 
 Saiatbieiuearg "Then here's my hand for you," exclaimed the brave old 
 man, "we are comrades. I would love even a dog that had 
 seen the face of Mark Antony. He was the first man that I 
 ever carried buckler under. Aye, there was a soldier for you ; 
 such men are not made in this puling age. He could fight 
 from mom till night, and carouse from night till morn, and 
 never lose his seat on his charger in the field the day after. 
 I have seen him run half naked through the snows in Arme- 
 nia, and walk in armor in the hottest day of Egfypt. He 
 loved the soldier, and the soldier loved him. So, comrade, 
 here's to the health of Mark Antony. Ah, we shall never see 
 such men again." 
 
 He drew out a flask of ration wine, closely akin to vinegar, 
 of which he hospitably gave us each a cup, and after pouring 
 a libation to his hero's memory, whom he evidently placed 
 among his gods, swallowed the draft, in which we devoutly 
 followed his example. 
 
 "Yet," said the beggar, "if Antony was a great man, he 
 has left little men enough behind him. There's, for instance, 
 the present gay procurator — six months in the gout, the other 
 six months drunk, or if sober only thinking where he can rob 
 next. This will bring the government into trouble before long, 
 or I'm much mistaken. Tor my part, I pledge myself if he 
 should take any part of my property " 
 
 "Why, if he did," said the Syrian, "I give him credit for 
 magic. He could find a crop of wheat in the sand or coin 
 money out of the air. Where does your estate lie? " 
 
 "Comrade," said the veteran, laughing, "recollect; if the 
 saying be true that people are least to be judged of by the 
 outside, the rags of our jovial friend must hide many a shekel ; 
 and as to where his estate lies, he has a wide estate who has 
 the world for his portion, and money enough who thinks all 
 his own that he can lay his fingers on." 
 
 The laugh was now loud against the beggar. He, however, 
 bore all, like one accustomed to the buffets of fortune, and, 
 joining in it, said: 
 
 "Whatever may be my talents in that way, there is no 
 great chance of showing them in this company ; but if you 
 
 200 
 
Salatbiel In Strange Compans 
 
 should be present at the sack of Masada, and I should meet sccams at 
 
 you on your way back " 
 
 "Masada! " exclaimed I instinctively. 
 
 " Yes, I left the town three days ago. On that very morn- 
 ing an order arrived to prepare for the coming of the great 
 and good Floras, who in his wisdom, feeling the want of 
 gold, has determined to fill up the hollows of the military 
 chest and his own purse by stripping the armory of every- 
 thing that can sell for money. My intelligence is from the 
 best authority. The governor's principal bath-slave told it to 
 one of the damsels of the steward's department, with whom 
 the Ethiopian is mortally in love, and the damsel, in a mo- 
 ment of confidence, told it to me. In fact, to let you into my 
 secret, I am now looking out for Florus, in whose train I in- 
 tend to make my way back into this gold-mine." 
 
 " The villain ! " cried the veteran ; " disturb the arms of the 
 dead ! Why, they say that it has the very corselet and buckler 
 that Mark Antony wore when he marched against the Idu- 
 means. " 
 
 "I fear more the disturbance of the arms of the living," 
 said the Syrian ; " the Jews will take it for granted that the 
 Eomans are giving up the business in despair, and if I'm a 
 true man, there will be blood before I get home." 
 
 "No fear of that, fellow soldier," said the veteran gaily; 
 "you have kept your two legs, and when they have so long 
 carried you out of harm's way, it would be the worst treat- 
 ment possible to leave you in it at last. But there is some- 
 thing in what you say. I had a dream last night. I thought 
 that I saw the country in a blaze, and when I started from my 
 sleep, my ears were filled with a sound like the trampling of 
 ten thousand cavalry." 
 
 I drew my breath quickly, and to conceal my emotion, gath- 
 ered up the fragments of our meal. On completing my work, 
 I found the beggar's eye fixed on me, — he smiled. 
 
 "I too had a dream last night," said he, "and of much the 
 same kind. I thought that I saw a cloud of cavalry, riding 
 as fast as horse could lay hoof to ground ; I never saw a more 
 dashing set since my first campaign upon the highways of this 
 
 801 
 
 JSeggars 
 
V^atvs Ubou XTill f Come 
 
 •wicked Tirorld. I'll be sworn that whatever their erraad may 
 be, such riders will not come back without it. Their horses' 
 heads were turned toward Masada, and I am now between two 
 minds, whether I may not mention my dream to the procurator 
 himself. " 
 
 I found his keen eye turned on me again. 
 
 "Absurd! " said I; "he would recommend you only to his 
 lictor. " 
 
 " I rather think he would recommend me to his treasurer, 
 for I never had a dream that seemed so like a fact. I should 
 not be surprised to find that I had been sleeping with my eyes 
 open. " 
 
 His look convinced me that I was known ! I touched his 
 hand, while the soldiers were busy packing up their cups, and 
 showed him gold. He smiled carelessly. I laid my hand on 
 my poniard; he but smiled again. 
 
 "The sun is burning out," said he, "and I can stand talk- 
 ing here no longer. Farewell, brave soldiers, and safe home 
 to you ! Farewell, Arab, and safe home to those that you are 
 looking after ! " 
 
 He stalked away, and as he passed me, said in a low voice, 
 "Glory to Naphtali!" 
 
 After exchanging good wishes with the old men, I followed 
 hiTTi ; he led the way toward the wood at a pace which kept 
 me at a distance. When I reached the shade, he stopped, 
 and prostrated himself before me. 
 
 "Will my lord," said he, "forgive the presumption of his 
 servant? This day, when I first met you, your disguise de- 
 ceived me. I bear intelligence from your friends." 
 
 I caught the fragment of papyrus from him, and read : 
 
 "All's well. We have hitherto met with nothing to oppose 
 us. To-morrow night we shall be on the ground. If no ad- 
 dition be made to the force within, the surprise will be com- 
 plete. Our cause itself is victory. Health to all we love ! " 
 
 "Your mission is now done," said I; "go on to Naphtali, 
 and you shall be rewarded as your activity has deserved. " 
 
 "No," replied he, with the easy air of a licensed humorist; 
 "I have but two things to think of in this world — my time 
 
Salatb(el In Strange Oompanis 
 
 and my money ; of one of them, I have infinitely more than I Bn Bnenm of 
 well know how to spend, and of the other infinitely less. I """ 
 
 expected to have killed a few days in going up to Naphtali. 
 But that hope has been cut off by my finding you half-way. 
 I will now try Floras, and get rid of a day or two with that 
 most worthy of men." 
 
 "That I forbid," interrupted I. 
 
 " Not if you will trust one whom your noble son has trusted. 
 I am not altogether without some dislike to the Romans my- 
 self, nor something between contempt and hatred for Gessius 
 Floras." His countenance darkened at the name. "I teU 
 you," pronounced he bitterly, "that fellow's pampered car- 
 cass this day contains as black a mass of villainy as stains the 
 earth. I have an old account to settle with him." 
 
 His voice quivered. " I was once no rambler, no outcast of 
 the land. I lived on the side of Hermon, lovely Hermon ! I 
 was aflSanced to a maiden of my kindred, as sweet a flower as 
 ever blushed with love and joy. Our bridal day was fixed. 
 I went to Cffisarea-Philippi to purchase some marriage pres- 
 ents. When I returned, I found nothing but women weeping, 
 and men furious with impotent rage. My bride was gone. A 
 Eoman troop had surrounded her father's house in the night 
 and torn her away. Wild, distracted, nay, I believe raving 
 mad, I searched the land. I kept life in me only that I might 
 recover or revenge her. I abandoned property, friends, all I 
 At length I made the discovery. " 
 
 To hide his perturbation, he turned away. "Powers of jus- 
 tice and vengeance ! " he murmured in a shuddering tone, " are 
 there no thunders for such things? She had been seen by 
 that hoary profligate. She was carried off by him. She 
 spumed his insults. He ordered her to be chained, to be 
 starved, to be lashed! " 
 
 Tears sprang to his eyes. " She still spurned him. She 
 implored to die. She called upon my name in her misery. 
 Wretch that I was, what could I, a worm, do under the heel 
 of the tyrant? But I saw her at last ; I made my way into 
 the dungeon. There she sat, pale as the stone to which she 
 was chained; a silent, sightless, bloodless, mindless skeleton. 
 
 908 
 
Vatts ;rbou Vill f Come 
 
 Ube Slowness I called to her ; she knew nothing. I pressed my lips to hers ; 
 she never felt them. I bathed her cold hands in my tears — I 
 fell at her feet — I prayed to her but to pronounce one word, 
 to give some sign of remembrance, to look on me. She sat 
 like a statue ; her reason was gone, gone forever ! " 
 
 He flung himself upon the ground, and writhed and groaned 
 before me. To turn him from a subject of such sorrow, I 
 asked what he meant to do by his intercourse with Florus. 
 
 "To do? — not to stab him in his bed; not to poison him in 
 his banquet ; not to smite him with that speedy death which 
 would be mercy — no, but to force him into ruin step by step ; 
 to gather shame, remorse, and anguish round him, cloud on 
 cloud ; to mix evil in his cup with such exquisite slowness 
 that he shall taste every drop ; to strike him only so far that 
 he may feel the pang without being stunned ; to mingle so much 
 of hope in his undoing that he may never enjoy the vigor of 
 despair ; to sink him into his own Tartarus inch by inch till 
 every fiber has its particular agony." 
 
 He yelled, suddenly rose from the ground, and rushed for- 
 ward and threaded the thickets with a swiftness that made my 
 pursuit in vain. 
 
 «M 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 In the Lions' Lair 
 
 The violence of the beggar's anguish, and the strong proba- H »es(iar'» 
 bilities of his story, engrossed me so much tha,t I at first re- 
 gretted the extraordinary flight which put it out of my power 
 to offer him any assistance. I returned with a feeling of dis- 
 appointment to the spot where I had left my horse, and was 
 riding toward the higher county, to avoid the enemy's strag- 
 gling parties, when I heard a loud outcry. On a crag so dis- 
 tant that I thought human speed could scarcely have reached 
 it in the time, I saw this strange being making all kinds of 
 signals, sometimes pointing to me, then to some object below 
 him, and uttering a cry which might easily be, mistaken for 
 the howl of a vUd beast. 
 
 I reined up ; it was impossible for me to ascertain whether 
 he were warning me of danger or apprising others of my ap- 
 proach. Great stakes make man suspicious, and the prince 
 of ISTaphtali, speeding to the capture of the principal armory 
 of the legions, might be an object well worth a little treach- 
 ery. I rapidly forgot the beggai's sorrows in the consider- 
 ation of his habits ; decided that his harangue was a piece of 
 professional dexterity, probably played off every week of his 
 life, and that if I would not be in Eoman hands before night, 
 I must ride in the precisely opposite direction to that which 
 his signals so laboriously recommended. Nothing grows with 
 more vigor than the doubt of human honesty. I satisfied my- 
 seK in a few moments that I was a dupe, and dashed through 
 thicket, over rock, forded torrent, and from the top of an 
 acclivity, at which even my high-mettled steed had looked 
 with repugnance, saw with the triumph of him who deceives 
 the deceiver, the increased violence of the impostor's attitudes. 
 He leaped from crag to crag vfith. the activity of a goat, and 
 
 SOS 
 
tiaccs Ubou ZiU H Come 
 
 'n Seciutei) when he could do nothing else, gave the last evidence of Ori- 
 
 Spot 
 
 ental vexation by tearing his robes. I waved my hand to him 
 in contemptuous farewell, and dismounting, for the side of the 
 hill was almost precipitous, led my panting Arab through beds 
 of wild myrtle, and eveiy lovely and sweet-smelling bloom, to 
 the edge of a valley that seemed made to shut out every dis- 
 turbance of man. 
 
 A circle of low hills, covered to the crown with foliage, sur- 
 rounded a deep space of velvet turf, kept green as the emerald 
 by the moisture of a pellucid lake in its center, tinged with 
 every color of heaven. The beauty of this sylvan spot was 
 enhanced by the luxuriant profusion of almond, orange, and 
 other trees that in every stage of production, from the bud 
 to the fruit, covered the little knolls below and formed a 
 broad belt round the lake. 
 
 Parched as I was by the iatolerable heat, this secluded 
 haunt of the very spirit of freshness looked doubly lovely. 
 My eyes, half -blinded by the glare of the sands, and even my 
 mind, exhausted by the perplexities of the day, found deli- 
 cious relaxation in the verdure and dewy breath of the silent 
 valley. My barb, with the quick sense of animals accustomed 
 to the travel of the wilderness, showed her delight by playful 
 boundings, the prouder arching of her neck, and the brighter 
 glancing of her eye. 
 
 "Here," thought I, as I led her slowly toward the steep de- 
 scent, " would be the very spot for the innocence that had not 
 tried the world, or the philosophy that had tried it and found 
 all vanity. Who could dream that within the borders of this 
 distracted land, in the very hearing, almost within the very 
 sight, of the last miseries that man can inflict on man, there 
 was a retreat which the foot of man perhaps never yet defiled, 
 and in which the calamities that afflict society might be as lit- 
 tle felt as if it were among the stars ! " 
 
 A violent plunge of the barb put an end to my speculation. 
 She exhibited the wildest signs of terror, snorted and strove 
 to break from me ; then fixing her glance keenly on the thick- 
 ets below, shook in every limb. Yet the scene was tran- 
 quillity itself; the chameleon lay basking in the sun, and th« 
 
 206 
 
ffn tbe Xions' Xaft 
 
 only sound was that of the ■wild doves, murmuriiig under the ube £o«8t 
 broad leaves of the palm-trees. But my mare still resisted ^' 
 
 every effort to lead her downward; her ears were fluttering 
 convulsively ; her eyes were starting from their sockets. I 
 grew peevish at the animal's unusual obstinacy, and was 
 about to let her suffer thirst for the day, when I was startled 
 by a tremendous roar. 
 
 A lion stood on the summit which I had but just quitted. 
 He was not a dozen yards above my head, and his first 
 spring must have carried me to the bottom of the precipice. 
 The barb burst away at once. I drew the only weapon I had 
 — a dagger — and hopeless as escape was, grasping the tangled 
 weeds to sustain my footing, awaited the plunge. But the 
 lordly savage probably disdained so ignoble a prey, and 
 remained on the summit, lashing his sides with his tail and 
 tearing up the ground. He at length stopped suddenly, 
 listened, as to some approaching foot, and then with a hideous 
 yell, sprang over me, and was in the thicket below at a single 
 bound. 
 
 The whole jungle was instantly alive ; the shade which I 
 had fixed on for the seat of unearthly tranquillity had been 
 an old haunt of lions, and the mighty herd were now roused 
 from their noonday slumbers. Nothing could be grander or 
 more terrible than this disturbed majesty of the forest kings. 
 In every variety of savage passion, from terror to fury, they 
 plunged, tore, and yelled; dashed through the lake, burst 
 through the thicket, rushed up the hills, or stood baying and 
 roaring in defiance, as if against a coming invader ; their num- 
 bers were immense, for the rareness of shade and water had 
 gathered them from every quarter of the desert. 
 
 While I stood clinging to my perilous hold, and fearful of 
 attracting their gaze by the slightest movement, the source of 
 the commotion appeared, in the shape of a Eoman soldier is- 
 suing, spear in hand, through a ravine at the farther side of 
 the valley. He was palpably unconscious of the formidable 
 place into which he was entering, and the gallant clamor of 
 voices through the hills showed that he was followed by 
 others as bold and as unconscious of their danger as himself. 
 
 207 
 
^Tarcs tTbou tltll T dome 
 
 » Savage But his career was soon closed; his horse's feet had scajcely 
 touched the turf, when a lion was fixed with fang and claw 
 on the creature's loins. The rider uttered a cry of horror, 
 and for an instant sat helplessly gazing at the open jaws be- 
 hind him. I saw the lion gatheriag up his flanks for a second 
 bound, but the soldier, a figure of gigantic strength, grasping 
 the nostrils of the monster with one hand, and with the other 
 shortening his spear, drove the steel at one resistless thrust 
 into the lion's forehead. Horse, lion, and rider fell, and con- 
 tinued struggling together. 
 
 In the next moment a mass of cavalry came thundering 
 down the ravine. They had broken off from their march, 
 through the accident of rousing a straggling lion, and followed 
 h\m in the giddy ardor of the chase. But the sight now be- 
 fore them was enough to appal the boldest intrepidity. The 
 valley was filled with the vast herd ; retreat was impossible, 
 for the troopers came still pouring in by the only pass, and 
 from the sudden descent of the glen, horse and man were 
 rolled head foremost among the lions ; neither man nor mon- 
 ster could retreat. 
 
 The conflict was horrible ; the heavy spears of the legionai'ies 
 plunged through bone and brain ; the lions, made more furious 
 by wounds, sprajig upon the powerful horses and tore them 
 to the ground, or flew at the troopers' throats, and crushed 
 and dragged away cuirass and buckler. The valley was a 
 struggling heap of human and savage battle ; man, lion, and 
 charger writhing and rolling in agonies until their forms were 
 undistinguishable. The groans and cries of the legionaries, 
 the screams of the mangled horses, and the roars and howlings 
 of the lions, bleeding with sword and spear, tearing the dead, 
 darting up the sides of the hills in terror, and rushing down 
 again with the fresh thirst of gore, bafl9.ed all conception of 
 fury and horror. But man was the conqueror at last; the 
 savages, scared by the spear, and thinned in their numbers, 
 made a rash in one body toward the ravine, overthrew every- 
 thing in their way, and buist from the valley, awaking the 
 desert for many a league with their roar. 
 
 The troopers, bitterly repenting their rash exploit, gathered 
 
 208 
 

 ^ 
 
 iS%L 
 
 (^ 
 
 EiS^^ 
 
 
 n 
 
 -• ••% 
 
 B..'%sr3| 
 
 ? 
 
 /^' i^p'^ ji^ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 |e. 
 
 i^^iJ 
 
 1^^ 
 
 ■4 
 
 ^1 
 
 
 
 f .ii^ 
 
 '^m:? 
 
 *■" 
 
 w 
 
 
 ■ A^^:€r'-">^ 
 
 
 :^'-':. 
 
 ^ ?■ 
 
 ' /^s 
 
 r^A 
 
 ' i^ 
 
 5^' '■■ 
 
 *^ ..#:k^.- '^>^ 
 
 
 f 
 
 ^:%^^||>\ , 
 
 W^' # 
 
 '■' ,t^i:^' ' '^S^' ■'^'.,^ 
 
 # ^.•- 
 
 (■;"< 
 
 S{£^t^ 
 
 1 =v,.^ 
 
 ^m^.M'&'^'- .SiiM 
 
 ,^^^m 
 
 ^^^SSlH^Km 
 
 ^■7^ Ji9^^^Hi. ^^Pi 
 
 
 
 mi 
 
 ^^p^^P 
 
 
 
 mm\ iffrf^^^^^i^B^ ^SihE^^B^^^^^g^^^B-.' ^ 
 
 / ■* 1 » ■ \^S^, 
 
 
 ^#g: ■■^^v.j^^.i 
 
 wS^M^j 
 
 ■. ,\J" .;-;■ ■ - 
 
 
 ^M 
 
 Hb 
 
 ^^^^^^^^■^^^Hh^. ^v '* ^^BMHHH^k^hB 
 
 
 '§> 
 
 K^v^9||^^P'^^Mrt<ii^H^npv. V <» ^&^ .^i^^^^^^HS 
 
 > 
 
 * 
 
 mSm^K^^^^^ 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Wagnalls Company , N. Y. and London, 
 
 The lions, made more furious by wounds, sprang upon the powerful horses. 
 
 See page 208. 
 
f n tbe Xione' Xalt 
 
 up the remnants of their dead on litters of boughs, and leav- ^lattice 
 ing many a gallant steed to feast the vultures, slowly retired ""P™** 
 from the place of carnage. 
 
 The spot to which I clung made ascent or descent equally 
 difficult, and during their extraordinary contest I continued 
 embedded in the foliage, and glad to escape the eye of man 
 and brute alike. But the troop were now gone ; beneath me lay 
 nothing but a scene of blood, and I began to wind my way to 
 the summit. A menace from below stopped me. A solitary 
 horseman had galloped back to give a last look to this valley 
 of death; he saw me climbing the hill, saw that I was not a 
 Eoman, and in the irritation of the hour, made no scruple of 
 sacrificing a native to the manes of his comrades. The spear 
 followed his words and plowed the ground at my side. His 
 outcry brought back a dozen of his squadron ; I found myself 
 about to be assailed by a general discharge. Escape on foot 
 was impossible, and I had no resource but to be speared, or 
 to descend and give myself up to the soldiery. 
 
 It was to warn me of this hazard that the signals of my 
 strange companion were made. He saw the advance of the 
 Eoman column along the plain. My suspicions of his honesty 
 drove me directly into their road, and the chance of turning 
 down the valley scarcely retarded the capture. On my first 
 emerging from the hills, I must have been taken. However, 
 my captors were in unusual ill-temper. As an Arab, too poor 
 to be worth plundering or being made prisoner, I should have 
 met only a sneer or an execration and been turned loose ; but 
 the late disaster made the turban and haik odious, and I was 
 treated with the wrath due to a fellow conspirator of the 
 lions. To my request that I should be suffered to depart in 
 peace on my business, the most prompt denial was given ; the 
 story that I told to account for my travel in the track of the 
 column was treated with the simplest scorn ; I was pronounced 
 a spy, and fairly tiDld that my head was my own only till I 
 gave the procurator whatever information it contained. 
 
 Yet I found one friend, in this evil state of my expedition. 
 My barb, which I had given up for lost in the desert, or torn ' 
 by the wild beasts, appeared on the heights overhanging our 
 
 14 209 
 
ITacrs XTbou tTill f Gome 
 
 B5o»tai march, and by snuflHjig the wind, and bounding backward and 
 forward through the thickets, attracted general attention. I 
 claimed her, and the idea that the way-sore and rough-clothed 
 prisoner could be the master of so noble an animal, raised 
 scorn to its most peremptory pitch. In turn I demanded per- 
 mission to prove my right, and called the barb. The crea- 
 ture heard the voice with the most obvious delight, bounded 
 toward me, rubbed her head against me, and by every move- 
 ment of dumb joy showed that she had found her master. 
 
 Still my requests for dismissal were idle ; I talked to the 
 winds ; the rear squadrons of the column were in sight ; there 
 was no time to be lost. I was suffered to mount the barb, 
 but her bridle was thrown across the neck of one of the troop- 
 ers' horses, and I was marched along to death, or a tedious 
 captivity. My blood boiled when I thought of what was to 
 be done before the dawn. How miserable a proof had I 
 given of the vigilance and vigor that were to claim the com- 
 mand of armies! I writhed in every nerve. My agitation 
 at length caught the eye of a corpulent old captain, whose 
 good-humored visage was colored by the deepest infusion of 
 the grape. His strong Thracian charger was a movable maga- 
 zine of the choicest Falemian; out of every crevice of his 
 pack-saddle and accouterments peeped the head of a flask; 
 and to judge by his frequent recourse to his stores, no man 
 was less inclined to carry his baggage for nothing. Popular- 
 ity, too, attended upon the captain, and a group of young 
 patricians attached to the procurator's court were content to 
 abate of their rank, and ride along with the old soldier, in 
 consideration of his better knowledge of the grand military 
 science, providing for the road. 
 
 In the midst of some camp story, which the majority re- 
 ceived with peals of applause, the captain glanced upon me, 
 and asking "whether I was not iU," held out his flask. I 
 took it, and never did I taste draught so delicious. Thirst 
 and hunger are the true secrets of luxury. I absolutely felt 
 new life rushing into me with the wine. 
 
 "There," said the old man, "see how the fellow's eye 
 sparkles. Falemian is the doctor, after all. I have had no 
 
 210 
 
fn tbe Xions' Xait 
 
 other those forty years. For hard knocks, hard -watches, and Ube iftaugbtb 
 hard weather, there is nothing like the true juice of the vine, uribnne 
 Try it again, Arab." 
 
 I declined the ofEer in civil terms. 
 
 "There," said he, "it has made the man eloquent. By 
 Hercules, it would make his mare speak. And now that I 
 look at her, she is as prettily made a creature as I have seen 
 in Syria ; her nose would fit in a drinking-cup. What is her 
 price, at a word? " 
 
 I answered that "she was not to be sold." 
 
 "Well, well, say no more about it," replied the jovial old 
 man ; " I know you Arabs make as much of a mare as of a 
 child, and I never meddle ia family affairs." 
 
 A haughty-looking tribune, covered with embroidery and 
 the other coxcombry of the court soldier, spurred his charger 
 between us and uttered w;ith a sneer : 
 
 "What, captain, by Venus and all the Graces! giving this 
 beggar a lecture in philosophy or a lesson in politeness? If 
 you will not have the mare, I will. Dismount, slave! " 
 
 The officers gathered to the front, to see the progress of the 
 affair. I sat sHent. 
 
 " Slave ! do you hear? Dismount ! You will lose nothing, 
 for you will steal another in the first field you come to." 
 
 "I know but one race of robbers in Judea," replied I. 
 
 The old captain reined up beside me, and said in a whisper: 
 "Friend, let him have the mare. He will pay you hand- 
 somely, and besides, he is the nephew of the procurator. It 
 will not be wise in you to put him in a passion." 
 
 " That fellow never shall have her, tho he were to coin^these 
 sands into gold," replied I. 
 
 " Do you mean to call us robbers? " said the tribune, with 
 a lowering eye. . ^ 
 
 " Do you mean to stop me on the high-road and take my 
 property from me, yet expect that I shall call you anything 
 else? " was the answer. 
 
 " Sententious rogues, those Arabs I Every soul of them 
 has a point, or a proverb, on his tongue," murmured, the 
 captain to the group of young men, who were evidently 
 
 an 
 
Zntvs Cbou ;itn f Come 
 
 "tciie Uribune'* amused at seeing their unpopular companion entangled 
 ** with me. 
 
 " Slave ! " said the tribune fiercely, "we must have no more 
 of this. You have been found lurking about the camp. Will 
 you be hanged for a spy? " 
 
 "A spy!" said I — and the insult probably colored my 
 cheek; "a spy has no business among the Eomans." 
 
 "So," observed the captain, "the Arab seems to think that 
 our proceedings are in general pretty palpable: slay, strip, 
 and bum. " He turned to the patrician tribune. " The fellow 
 is not worth our trouble. Shall I let him go about his busi- 
 ness? " 
 
 "Sir," said the tribune angrily, "it is youx business to 
 command your troop and be silent." 
 
 The old man bit his lip, and fell back to the line of his 
 men. My taunter reined up beside me again. 
 
 " Do you know, robber, that I can order you to be speared 
 on the spot for your lies? " 
 
 " No, for I have told you nothing but the truth of both of 
 us. Such an order, too, would only prove that men will often 
 bid others do what they dare not touch with a finger of their 
 own." 
 
 The officers, offended at the treatment of their old favorite, 
 burst into a laugh. The coxcomb grew doubly indignant. 
 
 "Strip the hound!" exclaimed he to the soldiers; "it is 
 money that makes him insolent." 
 
 " Nature has done it, at least for one of us, without the ex- 
 pense of a mite," replied I calmly. 
 
 " Off with his turban ! Those fellows carry coin in every 
 fold of it." 
 
 The officers looked at each other in surprise; the captain 
 hardly suppressed a contemptuous execration between his lips. 
 The very troopers hesitated. 
 
 " Soldiers ! " said I, in the same unaltered tone, " I have no 
 gold in my turban. An Arab is seldom one of those — the 
 outside of whose head is better worth than the inside." 
 
 The perfumed and curled locks of the tribune, surmounted 
 by a helmet, sculptured and plumed in the most extravagant 
 
 819 
 
f n tbe Kons' Xafc 
 
 style, caught every eye; and the shaft, slight as it was, vent QbcKriOuiM'* 
 home. *•**■' 
 
 "I'll pluck the robber off his horse by the beard 1" ex- 
 claimed the tribune, spurring his horse upon me and advan- 
 cing his hand. 
 
 I threw open my robe, grasped my dagger, and sternly 
 pronounced : " There is an oath in our line that the man who 
 touches the beard of an Arab dies." 
 
 He was not prepared for the action, hesitated, and finally 
 wheeled from me. The old captain burst out into an involun- 
 tary huzza. 
 
 "Take the beggar to the camp," said the tribune, as he 
 rode away, " I hate all scoundrels " ; and he glanced round 
 the spectators. 
 
 "Then," exclaimed I, after him, as a parting blow, "you 
 have at least one virtue, for you can never be charged with 
 seK-love." 
 
 This woman-war made me popular on the spot. The tribune 
 had no sooner turned his horse's head than the of&cers clus- 
 tered together in laughter. Even the iron visages of the 
 troopers relaxed into grim smiles. The old jocular captain 
 was the only one still grave. 
 
 "There rides not this day under the canopy of heaven," 
 murmured he, "a greater puppy than Caius Sempronius 
 Catulus, tribune of the thirteenth legion by his mother's 
 morals and the Emperor's taste. Why did not the coxcomb 
 stay at home, and show off his trappings among the supper- 
 eaters of the Palatine? He might have powdered his ringlets 
 with gold-dust, washed his hands in rose-water, and perfumed 
 his handkerchief with myrrh as well there as here, for he 
 does nothing else — except," and he clenched the heavy hilt 
 of his falchion, " insult men who have seen more battles than 
 he has seen years, who knew better service than bowing in 
 courts, and the least drop of whose blood is worth all that 
 will ever run in his veins. But I have not done with him 
 yet. As for you, friend," said he, "I am sorry to stop you 
 on your way ; but as this affair will be magnified by that f ool'a 
 tongue, you must be brought to the procurator. However, the 
 
 213 
 
TTarrs XTbou ^Till f dome 
 
 Hn "anpieagant camp is only a few miles off; you wiU be asked a few ques- 
 tions, and then left to follow your will." 
 
 He little dreamed how I recoiled from that interview. 
 
 To shorten the time of my delay, the good-natured old man 
 ordered the squadron to mend their pace, and in half an hour 
 we saw the noon encampment of my sworn enemy, lifting its 
 white tops and scarlet flags among the umbrage of a forest, 
 deep in the valley at our feet. 
 
CHAPTER XXVn 
 The Escape of Satathiet, the Magician 
 
 The squadron drew up at the entrance of the procurator's _*'J'**5,''' 
 tent, and with a crowd of alarmed peasants captured in the guxue 
 course of the day, I was delivered over to be questioned by 
 this man of terror. The few minutes wnich passed before I 
 was called to take my turn were singularly painful. This 
 was not fear, for the instant sentence of the ax would have 
 been almost a relief from the hopeless and fretful thwartings 
 sown so thickly in my path. But to have embalrked ia a noble 
 enterprise, and to perish without ase ; to have arrived almost 
 within sight of the poiat of my desires, and then, without strik- 
 ing a blow, to be given up to shame, stung me like a serpent. 
 
 My heart sprang to my lips when I heard myself called 
 into the presence of Floras. He was lyiag upon a couch, 
 with his never-failing cup before him, and turning over some 
 papers with a shaking hand. Care or conscience had made 
 ravages even in him since I saw him last. He was still the 
 same figure of excess, but his cheek was hollow ; the few locks 
 on his head had grown a more snowy white, and the little 
 pampered hand was as thin and yellow as the claw of the 
 vulture that he so much resembled in his soul. 
 
 With his head scarcely lifted from the table, and with eyes 
 that seemed half shut, he asked whence I had come and 
 whither I was going. My voice, notwithstanding my attempt 
 to disguise it, struck his acute ear. His native jteenness was 
 awake at once. He darted a fiery glance at me, and, striking 
 his hand on the table, exclaimed: "By Hercules, it is the 
 Jew ! " My altered costume again perplexed him. 
 
 "Yet," said he in soliloquy, "that fellow went to Kero, 
 and must have been executed. Ho I send in the tribune who 
 took him." 
 
 91S 
 
TTatri; TTbou ;i;ui f Gome 
 
 .^ •!fi'*i''ei Catulus entered, and his account of me was, luckily, con- 
 tbe plunberec . , ■ j., ^ ^ ,, . ■ T, ■. 
 
 temptuous in the extreme. I was a notorious robber, who 
 
 had stolen a handsome horse, perfectly worthy of the stud of 
 
 the procurator." 
 
 I panted with the hope of escape, and was gradually mov- 
 ing to the door. 
 
 " Stand, slave ! " cried Floras, " I have my doubts of you 
 still, and as the public safety admits of no mistake I have no 
 alternative. Tribune, order in the lictors. He must be 
 scourged into confession." 
 
 The lictors were summoned, and I was to be torn by Eoman 
 torturers. 
 
 A tumult now arose outside, and a man rushed in with the 
 lictors, exclaiming: "Justice, most mighty Floras! By the 
 majesty of Rome, and the magnanimity of the most illustrious 
 of governors, I call for justice against my plunderer, my un- 
 doer, the robber of the son of El Hakim, of his most precious 
 treasure." 
 
 Floras recognized the clamorer as an old acquaintance, and 
 desired him to state his complaint, and with as much brevity 
 as possible. 
 
 " Last night," said the man, " I was the happy possessor of 
 a mare, fleet as the ostrich and shapely as the face of beauty. 
 I had intended her as a present for the most illustrious of 
 procurators, the gpreat Floras, whom the gods long preserve ! 
 In the hour of my rest, the spoiler came, noiseless as the fall 
 of the turtle's feather, cruel as the viper's tooth. When I 
 arose the mare was gone. I was in distraction. I tore my 
 beard ; I beat my head upon the ground ; I cursed the robber 
 wherever he went, to the sun-rising or the sun-setting, to the 
 mountains or the valleys. But fortune sits on the banner of 
 my lord the procurator, and I came for hope of his conquering 
 feet. In passing through the camp, what did I see but my 
 treasure, the delight of my eyes, the drier up of my tears ! I 
 have come to claim justice and the restoration of my mare, 
 that I may have the happiness to present her to the most re- 
 nowned of mankind." 
 
 I had been occupied with the thought whether I should 
 
 216 
 
Zbe Sscwpe ot Salatbiel, tbe Aagician 
 
 burst through the liotors or rush on the procurator. But the B 4DiKe'f 
 length and loudness of this outcry engrossed every one. The 
 orator was my friend the beggar ! He pointed fiercely to me. 
 If looks could kill, he would not have survived the look that 
 I gave the traitor in return. 
 
 "There," said Floras, "is your plunderer. Sabat, have 
 you ever seen him before? " 
 
 The beggar strode insolently toward me. 
 
 "Seen him* before! aye, a hundred times. "What I Ben 
 Ammon, the most notorious thief from the Nile to the Jordan I 
 My lord, every child knows him. Ha, by the gods of my 
 fathers, by my mother's bosom, by shaft and by shield, he 
 has stolen more horses within the last twenty years than 
 would remount all the cavalry from Beersheba to Damascus ! 
 It was but last night that, as I was leading my mare, the gem 
 of my eyes, my pearl " 
 
 I now began to perceive the value of my eloquent friend's 
 interposition. 
 
 " An Arab horse-thief! That alters the case, " said the pro- 
 curator. "Ho! did you not say that the mare was intended 
 for me? Lictor, go and bring this wonder to the door." 
 
 The voluble son of El Hakim followed the lictor, and re- 
 turned, crying out more furiously than before against me. 
 His "pearl, the delight of his eyes, was spoiled — was utterly 
 unmanagable. I had put some of my villainous enchantments 
 upon her, for which I was notorious." 
 
 The procurator's curiosity was excited; he rose and went 
 to take a view of the enchanted animal. I followed, and cer- 
 tainly nothing could be more singular than the restiveness 
 which the son of El Hakim contrived to make her exhibit. 
 She plunged, she bounded, bit, reared, and flung out her heels 
 in all directions. Every attempt to lead or mount her was 
 foiled in the most complete yet most ludicrous manner. The 
 young cavalry officers came from all sides, and could not be 
 restrained from boisterous laughter, even by the presence of 
 the procurator. Floras himself at last became among the 
 loudest. Even I, accustomed as I was to daring horseman* 
 ship, was surprised at the eccentric agilily of tills unlucky 
 
 817 
 
Sates tEbou iCiU f Come 
 
 VbcBccuMt'* rider. He was alternately on the animal's back and under her 
 
 ' feet; he sprang upon her from behind, he sprang over her 
 
 head, he stood upon the saddle, but aU in vain; he had 
 
 scarcely touched her when she threw liim up in the aii again, 
 
 amid the perpetual roar of the soldiery. 
 
 At length, with a look of dire disappointment, he gave up 
 the task, and, as scarcely able to drag his limbs along, pros- 
 trated himself before Florus, praying that he would order the 
 Arab thief to unsay the spells that had turned'" the gentlest 
 mare in the world into a wild beast." The consent was given 
 with a haughty nod, and I advanced to play my part in a per- 
 formance, the object of which I had no conception. The ora- 
 tor delivered the barb to me with a look so expressive of cim- 
 ning, sport, and triumph, that perplexed as I was, I could 
 not avoid a snule. 
 
 My experiment was rapidly made. The mare knew me, 
 and was tractable at once. This only confirmed the charge 
 of my necromancy. But the son of El Hakim professed him- 
 self altogetht- dissatisfied with so expeditious a process, and 
 demanded that I should go through the regulaj steps of the 
 art. In the midst of the fiercest reprobation of my unhallowed 
 dealings, a whisper from him put me in possession of his mind. 
 
 I now went through the process used by the traveling jug- 
 glers, and if the deepest attention of an audience could reward 
 my talents, mine received unexampled reward. My gazings 
 on the sky, whisperings in the barb's ear, grotesque figures 
 traced on the sand, wild gestures and mysterious jargon, 
 thoroughly absorbed the intellects of the honest legionaries. 
 If I had been content with fame, I might have spread my 
 reputation through the Roman camps as a conjurer of the first 
 magnitude. I was, however, beginning to be weary of my 
 exhibition, and longed for the signal, when Sabat approached, 
 and loudly testifying that I had clearly performed my task, 
 threw the bridle over the animal's head and whispered, 
 "Now I" 
 
 My heart panted ; my hand was on the mane ; I glanced 
 round to see that all was safe, before I gave the spring, when 
 Floras screamed out: 
 
 818 
 
tTbe £0cape ot Salatbiel, tbe Aagfcian 
 
 " The Jew ! by Taxtarus, it is tlie Jew himself. Drag down % iceson tn 
 the ciicumcised dog." TbotK^steaitaa 
 
 With cavalry on every side of me, forcible escape was out 
 of the question. 
 
 "Undone, undone! " were the words of my wUd friend, as 
 he passed me. And when I saw him once more in the most 
 earnest conversation with Morus, I concluded that the dis- 
 covery was complete. I was in utter despair. I stood sul- 
 lenly waiting the worst, and gave an internal curse to thb 
 more than malevolence of fortune. 
 
 The conversation continued so long that the impatience of 
 those around me begaa to break out. 
 
 " On what possible subject can the procurator suffer that 
 mad fellow to have so long an audience? " said a young pa- 
 trician. 
 
 "On every possible subject, I should conceive, frojn the 
 length of the conference," was the reply. 
 
 "Florus knows his man," said a third; "that mad fellow is 
 a regular spy, and receives more of the Emperor's coin in a 
 month than we do ia a year." 
 
 The tribune now broke into the circle, and with a look of 
 supreme scorn, affectedly exclaimed: "Come, knight of the 
 desert, sovereign of the sands, let us have a specimen of your 
 calling. Stand back, officers ; this egg of Ishmael is to quit 
 plunder so soon that he would probably like to die as he 
 lived — in the exercise of his trade. Here, slave, show us the 
 most approved method of getting possession of another man's 
 horse." 
 
 I stood in indignant silence. The tribune threatened. A 
 thought struck me; I bowed to the command, let the barb 
 loose, and proceeded according to the theory of horse-stealing. 
 I approached noiselessly, gesticulated, made mystic move- 
 ments, and gibbered witchcraft as before. The animal, with 
 natural docility, suffered my experiments. I continued urg- 
 ing her toward the thinner side of the circle. 
 
 "Now, noble Romans," said I, "look carefully to the next 
 spell, for it is the triumph of the art." 
 
 Curiosity was in every countenance. I made a genuflexion 
 
 219 
 
Uaccc trbou Uill H Come 
 
 Ttbe xcribune to the four points of the compass, devoted a gesture of pecul- 
 iar solemnity to the procurator's tent, and while all eyes 
 were drawn in that direction, sprang on the barb's back and 
 was gone like an arrow. 
 
 I heard a clamor of surprise, mingled with outrageous 
 laughter, and looking round, saw the whole crowd of the 
 loose riders of the encampment in full pursuit up the hill. 
 Florus was at his tent door, pointing toward me with furious 
 gestures. The trumpets were calling, the cavalry mounting ; 
 I had roused the whole activity of the little army. 
 
 The slope of the valley was long and steep, and the heavy 
 horsemanship of the legionaries, who were perhaps not very 
 anxious for my capture, soon threw them out. A little knot 
 of the more zealous alone kept up a pursuit, from which I had 
 no fears. An abrupt rock in the middle of the ascent at 
 length hid them from me. To gain a last view of the camp, 
 I doubled round the rock and saw, a few yards below me, the 
 tribune, with his horse completely blown. I owed him a debt, 
 which I had determined to discharge at the earliest possible 
 time, partly on my own account, and partly on that of the 
 old captain. I darted upon him. He was all astonishment ; 
 a single buffet from my naked hand knocked the helpless 
 taunter off his charger. 
 
 "Tribune," cried I, as he lay upon the ground, "you have 
 had one specimen of my art to-day, now you shall have an- 
 other. Learn in future to respect an Arab." 
 
 I caught his horse's bridle, gave the animal a lash, and we 
 bounded away together. The scene was visible to the whole 
 camp ; the troopers, who had reined up on the declivity, gave 
 a roar of merriment, and I heard the old corpulent captain's 
 laugh above it alL 
 
 890 
 
CHAPTER XXVm 
 The Pcywer of a. Beggar 
 
 I HAD escaped, but the delay was ruinous. The sun sank ^J"* Contents 
 ■when I reached the broiv of the mountain, and Masada lay SabMeeSag 
 many a weary mile forward. I cast off the tribune's horse, 
 thus giving his insolent master evidence that I did not under- 
 stand the main point of my trade, and stood pondering to 
 what point of the mighty ridge that rose blue along the hori- 
 zon I should turn, when, in the plunge of the horse as he felt 
 himself at liberty, his saddle came to the ground. The pos- 
 sibility of its containing reports of the state of the enemy led 
 me to examine its pockets; they were stuffed with letters 
 worthy of the highest circles of Italian high life; the ill- 
 spelled registers of an existence at a loss how to lose its time; 
 of libertinism sick of indulgence, and of pecuniary embar- 
 rassment driTen to the most hopeless and whimsical re- 
 sources. 
 
 A glance at a few of those epistles was enough, and I scat- 
 tered iato the air the reputations of half the high-bom maids 
 and matrons of Rome ; but as I was turning away with an in- 
 stinctive exclamation of scorn at this compendium of patrician 
 life, my eye was caught by a letter addressed to the governor 
 of Masada. In opening it, I committed no violation of di- 
 plomacy, for it held no secret other than an angry remission 
 of his allegiance by some wearied fair one, who announced 
 her intended marriage with the tribune. 
 
 My revenge was thus to go further than my intent, for I 
 deprived him of the personal triumph of delivering this ca- 
 lamitous despatch to his rival. Yet, on second thought, 
 conceiving that some cipher might lurk under its absurdity, I 
 secured the paper, and giving the rein, left the whole secret 
 correspondence of debt, libel, and love to the delight of man- 
 
 221 
 
TTartB ^bou XTUI If Come 
 
 Bbesrtatant kind. I &ew along; my indefatigable barb, as if she felt 
 of strife her master's anxieties, put forth double speed. But I had 
 yet a fearful distance to traverse. The night came, but I 
 had no time to think of rest or shelter. I pushed on. The 
 wind rose and wrapt me in whirls of sand. I heard the roar 
 of waters. The ground became fractured, and full of the 
 loose fragments that fall from rocky hills. I found that I 
 was at the foot of the ridge and had lost my way. In this 
 embarrassment I trusted to the sagacity of my steed. But 
 thirst led her directly to one of the mountain torrents, and the 
 phosphoric gleam of the waters alone saved us both from a 
 plunge over a precipice, deep enough to extinguish every ap- 
 petite and ambition ia the round of this bustliag world. 
 
 To find a passage or an escape, I alighted. The torrent 
 bellowed before me. A wall of rock rose on the opposite 
 side. After long climbings and descents, I found that I had 
 descended too deep to return. Oh, how I longed for the trace 
 of man, for the feeblest light that ever twinkled from the cot- 
 tage window I I felt the plague of helplessness. To attempt 
 the torrent was impossible. To linger where I stood till 
 dawn was misery. 
 
 What would be going on meanwhile? Perhaps, at the 
 very time while I was standing in wretched doubt, imprisoned 
 among those pestilent cliffs, the deed was doing. Constantius 
 was, with ineffectual gallantry, assaulting the fortress; my 
 brave kinsmen were sacrificing their lives under the Boman 
 spears, and I was not there ! 
 
 A fitful sound came mingling with the roar of the cataract ; 
 it swelled, and vanished like the rushings of the gale. A 
 trumpet sounded, but so feebly that nothing but the keenness 
 of an ear straining to catch the slightest sound could have 
 distinguished it. I heard remote shouts ; they deepened ; the 
 echo of trumpets followed. 
 
 " The assault has begun ! " I thought " The work of glory 
 and of death was doing. Every instant cost a life. The 
 hailstones that bruised me were not thicker than the arrows 
 that were then smiting down my people. Yet there was I, 
 like a wolf in the pitfall ! " 
 
^be powet ot a :Bcgstit 
 
 Even -where the combat was being fougM, baffled my con- irn tbe 
 
 ception. It might be in the clouds or underground, on the 
 opposite side of the black ridge before me, or many a league 
 beyond the reach of my exhausted limbs and drooping steed; 
 all was darkness to the eye and to the mind. 
 
 A light flashed down a ravine leading into the heart of the 
 mountains ; another and another blazed. Masada stood upon 
 the mountain's brow, 
 
 I instantly plunged into the torrent — was beaten down by 
 the billows — was swept along through narrow channels of 
 rock, until, half-suffocated, I was hurled up against the op- 
 posite cliff. Wet and weary, I less climbed than tore my 
 way upward. But the torrent had borne me far below the 
 ravine. Before me was a gigantic rampart of rock. But the 
 time was flying. I dragged myseK up to the face of the 
 precipice by the chance brushwood. I swung from point to 
 point by a few projecting branches that broke away almost 
 in my grasp, until, with my hands excoriated, my limbs stiff 
 and bleeding, and my head reeling, I reached the pinnacle. 
 
 Was I under the dominion of a spell? Was the power of 
 some fiend raised to mock me? All was darkness as far as 
 the eye could pierce ; the heaviest veil of midnight hung upon 
 the earth. There was utter silence. Not the slightest sound 
 reached the ear. 
 
 For a while, the thought of some strange illusion was para- 
 mount ; then came the frightful idea that the illusion was in 
 myself; that in the effort to gain the ascent, I had strained 
 eye and ear until I could neither hear nor see; that I was 
 still within sight and sound of battle, but insensible to the 
 impressions of the external world forever. Immortality un- 
 der this exclusion! A deathlessness of the deaf and blind! 
 The thought struck me with a force inconceivable by all minds 
 but one sentenced like mine. 
 
 In my despair I cried aloud. A flood of joy rushed into 
 my heait when I heard my voice answered, tho it was 
 but by the neigh of my baib below, which probably felt itself 
 as ill-placed as its master. I now used my ear as the guide, 
 and cautiously descending the farther side of the ridge was 
 
 233 
 
 Uorrent 
 
UartB Cbou Cill t Come 
 
 CoMtanttua soon oa comparatively level ground, the remnant of a forest. 
 Bttacii My foot struck against a human body ; I spoke ; the answer 
 ■was a groan, and an entreaty that I should bear a small 
 packet, which was put into my hands, "to the prince of 
 Naphtali ! " In alarm and astonishment, I raised the sufferer, 
 gave him some water from my flask, and after many an effort, 
 in which I thought that life would depart every moment, he 
 told me that " he was the unfortunate leader of the assault of 
 Masada." Constantius lay in my arms! 
 
 " Where I am," said he, as he slowly recovered his senses, 
 "how I came here, or anything but that we are undone, I 
 can not conceive. My last recollection was of fixing a ladder 
 to the inner rampart. We had made our way good so far 
 without loss. The garrison was weakened by detachments 
 sent out to plunder. I attacked at midnight. To surprise 
 a Boman fortress was, I well knew, next to impossible ; and 
 no man ever found a Eoman garrison without bravery. But 
 our bold fellows did wonders. Everything was driven from 
 the first rampart; we made more prisoners than we knew 
 what to do with, and in the midst of all kinds of resistance, 
 we laid our ladders to the second wall. But the garrison 
 were still too strong for us. Our easy conquest of the first 
 line might have been a snare, for the battlements before us 
 exhibited an overwhelming foroe. We fought on, but the 
 ladders were broken with showers of stones from the engines. 
 The business looked desperate, but I had made up my mind 
 not to go back, after having once got in; and rallying the 
 men, I carried a ladder through a storm of lances and arrows, 
 to the foot of the main tower. I was bravely followed, and 
 we were within grasp of the battlement when I saw a cohort 
 rush out from a sally-port below. This was fatal ; the foot 
 of the rampart was cleared at once ; the ladders were flung 
 down ; and I suppose it is owing to the ill-judged fidelity of 
 some of my followers that I am unfortunate enough to find 
 myself here and alive." 
 
 During the endless hours of this miserable night, I labored 
 with scarcely a hope to keep life in my heroic son. My com- 
 ing had saved him. The exposure and his wounds must have 
 
THjc power ot a JBegdxt 
 
 destroyed him before morning. We consulted as to our next Saiatbfei'* 
 course. I suggested the possibility of gaining the fortress by tbe ffieggar 
 a renewal of the attack, while the garrison was unprepared, 
 or perhaps indulging in carousal after success. The necessity 
 of some attempt was strongly in my mind, and I expressed my 
 determination to run the hazard, if I could find where the 
 remnant of our troop had taken refuge. But this was the 
 difficulty. Signals of any kind must rouse the vigilance of 
 the Romans. The fortress was above our heads, and to col- 
 lect the men during the night was impossible. 
 
 While I watched the restless tossings of Constantius, a light 
 stole along the ground at a distance. My first idea was that 
 a Roman patrol was coming to extinguish our last remains of 
 hope. But the light was soon perceived to be in the hand of 
 some one cautious of discovery. To keep its bearer at a dis- 
 tance, I followed the track and grasped him. 
 
 "I surrender," said the captive, perfectly at his ease; 
 " long life to tht Smperor ! " He lifted the lamp to my face 
 and burst into laughter. "May I have a Roman falchion 
 through me," said he, "but I think we were born under the 
 same planet. By all the food that has entered my lips this 
 day, I took your highness for a thief, and, pardon the word, 
 for a Roman one. I have been running after you the whole 
 day and night." 
 
 He contined to talk and writhe, with a kind of mad merri- 
 ment. I could not obtain an answer to my questions, of 
 what, led him there, how he could guide us out of the forest, 
 or what news he brought from the procurator. He less 
 walked than danced before me through the thickets, as our 
 scene with Floras recurred to his fantastic mind. 
 
 "Never was trick so capital as your escape," he exclaimed. 
 " I would have given an eye or an arm, things rather an im- 
 pediment to a beggar, I allow ; but it would have been worth 
 a kingdom to see, as I saw, the faces of the whole camp, pro- 
 curator, officers, troopers, and all, down to the horse-boys, 
 on your slipping through their fingers in such first-rate style. 
 I have done clever things in my time, but never, no never, shall 
 I equal that way of making five thousand men at once look 
 
 15 235 
 
tTarrs Zbow ^ill ir Come 
 
 t*« like five thousand fools. I own I thought that you would do 
 something brilliant, and it was for that purpose that I tried 
 to draw off the eye of that scoundrel Florus, for, sot as he is, 
 there are not ten in Palestine keener in all points where 
 roguery is concerned. I caught hold of his robe, told him a 
 ready lie of the largest size about a discovery of coin in Jeru- 
 salem, and while he was nibbling at the bait I heard the up- 
 roar. You were off ; I could not help laughing in his illustri- 
 ous face. He kicked me from him, and foaming with rage, 
 ordered every man and horse out after your highness. But I 
 saw at a glance that you had the game in your own hands. 
 You skimmed away like a bird; an eagle could not have got up 
 that long hUl in finer condition. Away you went, bounding 
 from steep to steep, like a stone from a sling; you cut the 
 air like a shaft. I have seen many a mare in my time, but as 
 for the equal of yours — why a pair of wings would be of no 
 use to her. She is a paragon, a bird of paradise, an ostrich 
 on four legs, a " 
 
 I cheeked his volubility and led him to the rough bedside 
 of Constamtius. I could not have found a better auxiliary. 
 He knew every application used in the medicine of the time, 
 and, to give him credit on his own showing, all diseases found 
 in him an enemy worth all the doctors of Asia. 
 
 " He had traveled for his knowledge ; he had fought with 
 death from the Nile to the Ganges, and could swear that the 
 sharks and crocodiles owed him a grudge throughout the 
 world. He had cured rajahs and satraps tiU he made him- 
 self unpopular in every court where men looked for vacancies ; 
 had kept rich old men out of their graves until there was a 
 general conspiracy of heirs to drive him out of the country ; 
 and had poured life into so many dying husban Is that the 
 women made a universal combination against his own." 
 
 This flow of panegyric, however, did not impede his present 
 services. He applied his herbs and bandages with profes- 
 sional dexterity, and kindling a fire, prepared some food, 
 which went further to cheer the patient than even his medi- 
 cine. He still talked away like one to whom words were a 
 necessary escape for his surcharge of animal spirits. 
 
tibe ^owec of a SSegsac 
 
 " He knew everything in physic. He had studied in Egypt, tibe aeecb's 
 and could compound the true essential extract of mummy with ®'''" 
 any man that wore a beard, irom the Cataracts to the bottom 
 of the Delta. He once walked to the Mountains of the Moon 
 to learn the secret of powdered chrysolite. On the Hi- 
 malaya he picked up his knowledge of the bezoax, and a year's 
 march through sands arid snows rewarded him. at once with a 
 bag of the ginseng, most marvelous of roots, and the sight of 
 the wall of China, most endless of walls." 
 
 How he stooped to veil this accumulation of knowledge in 
 rags, he did not condescend to explain. But his skill, so far, 
 was certainly admirable, and my brave Constantius recovered 
 with a suddenness that surprised me. With his strength his 
 hopes returned. 
 
 "Oh," exclaimed he, waking from a refreshing sleep, "that 
 I were once again at the foot of the rampart with the ladder 
 in my hand ! " 
 
 "By my father's beard," replied the leech, "you are much 
 better where you are ; for observe, tho I can go further than 
 any doctor between the four rivers, yet I never professed 
 to cure the dead. Take Masada by scale ! Ha! ha! take the 
 clouds by scale! You would have found three walls within 
 the one to which they decoyed you. Herod was the prince of 
 builders, and could have so built as to have kept out every- 
 thing, except the champion that carries no arms but a 
 scythe." 
 
 " Then you know Masada? " interrupted I eagerly. 
 
 "Know it, yes; every loophole, window, door— aye, and 
 dungeon — from one end of it to the other." 
 
 StUl, my escape from the camp was so congenial to his 
 ideas of pleasantry that it mingled with all his topics. War 
 and politics went for nothing compared with the adroitness 
 of eluding Roman insolence. 
 
 "By Jove! " said he, "when I played my tricks with that 
 pearl of pearls, that supreme of horseflesh, your barb, I was 
 clumsy ; I played the clown ; you beat me hollow ; it was 
 matchless ; it was my purse in prospect of your generosity to 
 its emptiness this night" — he made a profound obeisance; 
 
 227 
 
CattB XTbou c:ill IF Come 
 
 l>iaiftnowieBge"to see those fellows panting up the hill after you, nearly 
 otmasgDu killed me." 
 
 "But the fortress?" 
 
 " Oh ! as to the fortress, the notion of attacking it was mad- 
 ness. I had my doubts of your intention, and broke loose 
 from the camp to give you the benefit of my advice. But 
 the tribune; ha, ha! never "was coxcomb so rightly served. 
 Tou won the heart of the whole legion by the single blow that 
 spared him the trouble of sitting his horse. The troopers could 
 not keep their saddles for laughing ; and as for the fat old cap- 
 tain, I was only afraid that he would roar himself out of the 
 world. I owed my escape partly to him, and his last words 
 were : ' Eascal, if you ever fall in with the Arab, whom I sus- 
 pect to be as pleasant a rogue as yourseK, tell him that I wish 
 I had a dozen such in my squadron.' " 
 
 " But is there any possibility of knowing the present state 
 of the garrison? " 
 
 "Aye, there is the misfortune. Yesterday I could have got 
 in, and got out again, like a wild-cat. But, after this night's 
 visit, it is not too much to suppose that they may be a little 
 more select in their hospitality. The governor has a slight 
 correspondence of his own to carry on ; a trifle in the way of 
 trade ; I had the honor to be smuggler extraordinaiy to his 
 Mightiness, and, as in state secrets everything ought to be 
 kept from the vulgar, my path in and out was by a portcullis, 
 far enough from gates and sentinels, through which portcullis 
 I should have shown you the way, if the attack had waited 
 for me a few hours longer. That chance is of course cut off 
 now. But see, yonder comes the morning." 
 
 "Then we must move, or have the garrison on us." 
 
 "I forbid that maneuver," interrupted the fellow, with 
 easy audacity, 
 
 Constantius and I, in equal surprise, bade him be silent. 
 Yet the quietness with which he took the rebuke propitiatet^ 
 me, and I asked his reason. 
 
 "Nothing more than that if you stir you are ruined. The 
 hare is safest near the kennel. The outlaw sleeps sounder in 
 the magistrate's stable than he ever slept in his den. I once 
 
 228 
 
Ube powet of a JBeggac 
 
 escaped hanging by coolly walking into a jail. There stands saiatfefei <5afn» 
 Masada!" and he pointed to what looked to me a heap of *" '^ 
 black clouds gathered on the mountain's brow. 
 
 " Not a soul that you have left alive there will dream of 
 your being within a stone's throw. The copse is thick enough 
 to hide a man from everything but a creditor, an evil con- 
 science, or a wife ; stir out of it, and they are on your heels. 
 I dislike them so heartily that I hope never to have the honor 
 of their attendance. But you are not mad enough to think 
 of trying them again? " 
 
 "Mad fellow!" I exclaimed, "you forget in whose pres- 
 ence you are." 
 
 He continued making some new arrangement of the 
 bandages on his patient's wounds, and without takinsf the 
 slightest notice of my displeasure, cheered his work \, Ah. a 
 song. 
 
 "Mad or wise," said I in soliloquy, "I shall lie in the ditch 
 of that fortress, or in its citadel, before next sunrise." 
 
 " You may lie in both, " said the beggar, pursuing his occu- 
 pation and his song. " Mad ! "Why not? — all the world is in 
 the same way. The Emperor is mad enough to stay where 
 men have, hands and knives. His people are mad enough to 
 let their throats be cut by him. Florus is mjid enough 
 to sleep another night in Palestine. You are mad enough to 
 attack his garrison; and I — am mad enough to go along with 
 you," 
 
 " You are a singular being. But will you hazard your neck 
 for nothing? " 
 
 "Custom makes everything easy," observed he, spanning 
 his muscular neck with his hand; "I have been so many 
 years within sight of the cord, and all other expeditious 
 modes of paying the only debt I ever intend to pay, and that 
 only because it is the last, that I care as little about the ven- 
 ture as any broken gambler about his last coin. Well then, 
 my plan is this : I must get into the town ; you must gather 
 your troop without noise and be ready for my signal, a light 
 from one of the towers. A false attack must be made on the 
 gates, a true attack must be made by the portcullis, which, if 
 
 239 
 
^larts Qbou ZIU IT Come 
 
 Ube it be not stopped up, I will unlock ; and your highness may 
 of a letter eat your next supper off the governor's plate. There's a plan 
 for you! I should have been a general. But merit — aye, 
 there's the rub — merit is like the camel's lading : it stops him 
 at the gate, while the empty slip in. It is like putting wings 
 upon one's shoulders, when the race is to be run upon the 
 ground. Too much braia in a man is like too much bend ia 
 a bow ; the bow either breaks, or sends the arrow a mile be- 
 yond the mark. Genius, my prince, is " 
 
 I interrupted the general in his progress into the philoso- 
 pher, and demanded whether the renewed vigilance of the for- 
 tress would not require some additional expedient for his 
 entry. He struck his forehead; the thought came, as the 
 flint gives its spark, and he produced a highly ornamented 
 tablet. 
 
 "This," said he, "I ought to employ in your service, for 
 if you had not knocked down the tribune I could never 
 have picked it up. In making my run over the mountain, I 
 struck upon his correspondence. Oh ! the curse of curiosity ! 
 if I had not stopped to delight myself with the whole scandal 
 of Eome, I should have been here in time. But I lingered, 
 lost an hour in laughing, and when I set out in the dusk lost 
 my way, for the first time in my life. Before setting off, 
 however, I wrote a letter, ridiculing Florus in all poiats, bur- 
 lesquing the people about him, scoffing at everybody in the 
 most heroic style; and having subscribed the name of the 
 unlucky tribune, addressed it to one of the most notorious 
 personages ia all Italy, and placed it where it is sure to be 
 seen, and as sure to be carried to the most noble of procura- 
 tors. Now could I not begin a correspondence with the gov- 
 ernor, and act the courier myself? Yet, to hit upon the sub- 
 ject " He paused. 
 
 The letter that I had found occurred to me. I showed it to 
 our adroit friend. He was ia ecstasies. He kissed it over and 
 over, and played some of those antics which had already made 
 me almost half doubt his sanity. He flung away the tablet. 
 
 "Go," said he; "fiction is a fine thing in its way. But give 
 me fact when I want to entrap a great man. He is so little 
 
Zbe ipowet of a 3Bedsac 
 
 used to truth that the least atom of it is a spell ; the fresh ube seggar'! 
 bait will carry the largest hook. Aye, this is the letter for us ; " *"'' 
 it has the siacerity of the sex, when they are determined to 
 jilt a man ; its ahuse will cover me from top to toe with the 
 cloak of a true ambassador." 
 
 "But the unpopularity of your credentials," said I laugh- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Let the potentate by whom they are sent settle that affair 
 with the potentate by whom they are received," replied he. 
 
 "You will be hanged." 
 
 "I shall first get in." 
 
 S81 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 'Prisoners in a Labyrinth 
 
 "^wtteea^ The day passed anxiously, for eveiy sound of the huge 
 fortress was heard in the thicket. The creaking of machines, 
 brought up to the walls against future assault ; the rattling of 
 hammers ; the rolling of wagons loaded with materials for the 
 repair of the night's damage ; the calls of trumpet and clarion, 
 and the march of patrols, rang perpetually in our ears. The 
 depth of the copse justified the beggai-'s generalship, and the 
 son of El Hakim prored himself a master of the art of cas- 
 trametation. Nothing could exceed his alertness in threading 
 the mazes of this dwarf forest, where a wolf could scarcely 
 have made progress and where a lynx would hare required 
 all his eyes. 
 
 On my asking how he contrived to find his way through this 
 labyrinth, he told me, that " for making one's way in woods 
 and elsewhere, there was nothing like a familiari'ty with 
 smuggling and affairs of state." 
 
 "The man," continued he, "who has driven a trade in 
 everythiag, from pearls to pistachios, without leave of the 
 customs, can not be much puzzled by thickets ; and the man 
 who has contrived to climb into confidence at court must have 
 had a talent for keeping his feet in the most slippery spots, or 
 he never could have mounted the back stairs." 
 
 He collected the scattered troop, of whom but few had 
 fallen, tho nearly one half were made prisoners ; they were 
 eager to attempt the rampart again, all boldly attribut- 
 ing their failure to accident, and all thirsting alike for the 
 rescue of their comrades and for revenge. The letter was 
 given to our emissary, and 1 ascended the loftiest of the 
 mountain pinnacles, to examine for myself the nature of the 
 ground. From my height the view was complete ; the whole 
 
 883 
 
]Pcl5onecs in a Eabi^rintb 
 
 interior of tlie fortress lay open, and in tlie same glance I saw ube Souns at 
 the grandeur of design which Greek taste could stamp even * "^"^ 
 upon the strength of military architecture, and the utter hope- 
 lessness of any direct assault upon Masaxia " by less than an 
 army. 
 
 Who but he that has actually been ia the same situation, 
 can conceive the feelings with which I gazed ! Below me was 
 the spot in which a few hours must see me conqueror or noth- 
 ing! On that battlement I might, before another mom, be 
 stretched ia blood ! On that tower I might be fixed a horrid 
 spectacle! Nature is irresistible, and her workings, for 
 a while, overpowered even the belief in my mysterious sen- 
 tence. The thought has always terribly returned, but the 
 moment of energy has ever extiaguished it ; the hurrying and 
 swelling current of my heart rolled over it, as the winter tor- 
 rent rushes over the tomb on its brink. The melancholy 
 memorial was there, sure to reappear with the first subsiding, 
 but lost while the flood of feeling whirled along. Every 
 group of soldiery that sang, or gamed, or gazed, along the 
 ramparts, under the bright and quiet day which followed so 
 fearful a night; every archer paciag on his tower; every 
 change of the guard ; every entering courier, was visible to 
 me, and all were objects of keen interest. 
 
 At length my courier came. I saw his approach from a pass 
 of the mountains at the remotest point from our cover, his 
 well-contrived exhaustion, and the fearless impudence with 
 which he beguiled the sulky guard at the gate, and stalked 
 before the centurion by whom he was brought to the governor. 
 
 With what eyes of impatience I now watched the sun. As 
 the hour of fate approached, the fever of the mind grew. To 
 defer the attack beyond the night was to abandon it, for by 
 morn the troops under Morus must reach Masada. Yet a 
 strange sensation, a chilliness of heart sometimes came on me, 
 in which my hands were as feeble as an infant's. Nothing 
 tries the soul more deeply than this concentration of its for- 
 tunes into a few moments. The man sees himself standing 
 on the edge of a precipice, down which there is no second 
 step. But the thought of returning errandless and humil- 
 
 33.'? 
 
XTaccs Zbovi XTill IT Oome 
 
 ,, Ubc iRoman lated, and this, too, from my first enterprise, was intolerable. 
 I made my decision. 
 
 From that instant I breathed freely, my strength returned, 
 hope glowed in my bosom, aad clinging to the granite spii'e 
 of the mountain, I looked down upon the haughty stronghold, 
 like its evil genius descending from the clouds. The sun 
 touched the western ridge. A horseman came at full speed 
 across the plain at its foot and entered the fortress. He evi- 
 dently brought news of importance, for the troops were hur- 
 ried under arms, flags hoisted on the ramparts, and the walls 
 lined with archers. All was military bustle. 
 
 My first conception was, that my emissary had betrayed us, 
 and that we were about to be attacked. I plunged from the 
 pinnacle, and was following the windings of the goat track to 
 our lair, when I saw the rising of a cloud of dust in the dis- 
 tance. It moved with rapidity, and soon developed its con- 
 tents. Intelligence of the assault had reached Florus. His 
 sagacity saw what perils turned on the loss of the fortress ; 
 he shook off his indolence, and came without delay to its 
 succor. Banners, helmets, and scarlet cloaks poured across 
 the plain. A torrent of brass, burning and flashing in the 
 sunbeam, continued to roll down the defile, and before the 
 evening star glittered the whole cavalry of the fifteenth legion 
 was trampling over the drawbridge of Masada. Here was the 
 death-blow. My enterprise was henceforth tenfold more hope- 
 less ; but with me the time for prudence was past. If the re- 
 enforcement had arrived but an hour before, I should probably 
 have given up the attempt in despair. But my mind was now 
 fixed ; I had made an internal vow, and if the whole host of 
 Eome was crowded within the walls beneath me, I should 
 have hazarded the assault. 
 
 I descended, found my troop collected, and, to my alarm 
 and vexation, Constantius, enfeebled as he was, obstinately 
 determined to assault the rampart again. With the daring of 
 his enthusiastic heart he told me that unless I suffered him to 
 attempt the retrieval of his defeat, he felt it impossible to 
 survive. 
 
 "Shame and grief," said he, "are as deadly as the sword, 
 
 234 
 
©ttsonets In a XabBttntb 
 
 and never will I return to the face of her whom I love, or of in tbe 
 the family whom I honor, unless I can return with the con- " *"^"^'' 
 sciousness of having at least deserved to be successful." 
 
 Against this I reasoned, but reasoned in vain. We finally 
 divided our followers. I gave him the attack of the rampart, 
 which was to be the place of his triumph or his grave ; flung 
 myself into his embrace, and listened to his parting steps 
 with a heart throbbing at every tread. I then moved round 
 the foot of the mountain toward the secret passage. The 
 night fell as dark as we could wish. I waited impatiently 
 for the signal, alight from the walls. Yet no signal twinkled 
 from wall or tower, and I began to distrust again ; but while 
 I lingered, a shout told me that Constantius was already en- 
 gaged. 
 
 " Let what will, come," exclaimed I ; " onward ! " 
 
 We scrambled up the face of the rock, and at length found 
 the entrance of the subterranean. It was so narrow that even 
 in the daytime it must have been invisible from below. A 
 low iron door a few yards within the fissure was the first ob- 
 stacle. To beat it down might alarm the garrison. The pas- 
 sage only allowed us to advance one by one. I led the way, 
 hatchet in hand. A few blows broke the stones round the 
 lock ; the door gave way, and we all crept in. In this man- 
 ner we wound along for a distance which I began to think 
 endless. The passage was singularly toilsome. We de- 
 scended steep paths, in which it was with the utmost diffi- 
 culty that we could keep our feet; we heard the rush of waters 
 through the darkness ; blasts of bitter wind swept against us ; 
 the thick and heavy air that closed round us after them al- 
 most impeded our breathing; and from time to time sulfurous 
 vapors gave the fearful impression that we had lost our way 
 and were actually in the bowels of a burning mine. 
 
 My hunters still held on, but the mere fatigue of struggling 
 through this poisoned atmosphere was fast exhausting their 
 courage. I cheered them with what hopes I could, but never 
 was my imagination more barren. I heard, at every step I 
 took, fewer feet following me. The pestilential air was be- 
 ginning to act even upon myself; but the great stake was 
 
 235 
 
Uarrs ^bou UtU H Come 
 
 * iKf ""8 pls^yuig above, and onward I must go. I dared not speak 
 louder than a whisper ; soon no whisper responded to mine. 
 I tottered on, until overpowered by the feeling that our sac- 
 rifice was in vain, a sensation like that of a sickly propen- 
 sity to sleep bound up my faculties; whether I alept or 
 fainted, I for a time lost all recollection. 
 
 A roar, like thunder overhead, roused me. A sig^t, the 
 most superb, burst on my dazzled eyes ; a roof of seeming gold, 
 arched so high that even its splendor was partially dinuned; 
 walls of apparent diamond, pUlared v. ith a thousand columns 
 of every precious gem ; whole shafts of «merald ; pavilions of 
 jasper ; a floor, as far as the glance could pierce, studded with 
 amethyst and ruby ; apparent treasures, to which the accumu- 
 lated spoils of the Greek or the Persian were nothing ; the 
 finest devices of the most exquisite art, mingled with the most 
 colossal forms which wealth could wear ; opulence in its mas- 
 sive and negligent grandeur ; opulence in its delicate and ai 
 most spiritualized beauty, were before me. A slender flame 
 burning at the foot of an idol lighted up this stupendous 
 temple. 
 
 I was alone, but the orifice by which I had entered was 
 visible ; the light shot far down into it, and I soon brought 
 forward the greater number of my troop. All were equally 
 wrapt in wonder, and the superstitious feelings, which the 
 presence of the Koman and Syrian idolaters had partially gen- 
 erated even in the Jewish mind, began to startle those bravv 
 men. 
 
 " We had, perhaps, come into forbidden ground ; the gods 
 of the earth, whether gods or demons, were powerful, and 
 we stood in the violated center of the mountain." 
 
 For the first time, I found the failure of my influence. A 
 few adhered to me, but the majority calmly declared that, 
 however fearless of man, they dared go no farther. I threw 
 myself on the ground before the entrance of the cavern, and 
 desired them to consummate their crime by trampling on their 
 leader. But they were determined to retire. I taunted them, 
 I adjured them, I poured out the most vehement reproaches. 
 They stepped over me as I lay at the mouth of the fissure, 
 
 23b 
 
K)ti0oners In a Xabi^rintb 
 
 and at length one and all left me to cry out in my dazzling EnttapeeSi 
 solitude against the treachery of human faith and the 
 emptiness of human wishes. 
 
 The roar again rolled above; I heard distant shouts and 
 trumpets. In the sudden and desperate consciousness that 
 all was now to be gained or lost, I rushed after the fugitives, 
 to force them back. I plunged into the darkness, and grasped 
 the first figure that I could overtake. My hand fell on the 
 iron cuirass of a Eoman ! my blood ran chill. " Were we 
 betrayed — decoyed into the bowels of the mountain to be mas- 
 sacred? " 
 
 The figure started from me. I gave a blind blow of the ax, 
 and heard it crush through his helmet. The man fell at my 
 feet. I wildly demanded, "How he came there, and how we 
 might make our way into the light ? " 
 
 " You are undone," said he faintly. " Your spy was seized 
 by the procurator. Your attack was known, and the door of 
 the subterranean left unguarded to entrap you. This passage 
 was the entrance to a former mine, and in the mine is your 
 grave." 
 
 The voice sank ; he groaned, and was no more. 
 
 His words were soon confirmed by the hurried return of my 
 men. They had found the passage obstructed Vjy a portcullis, 
 dropped since their entrance. Torches were seen through the 
 fissures above, and the sound of arms rattled round us. The 
 ambush was complete. 
 
 "Now," said I, "we have but one thing for it — the sword, 
 first for our enemy, last for ourselves. If we must die, let 
 us not die by Eoman halters. " 
 
 One and all, we rushed back into the-mine. But we had 
 now no leisure to look upon the beauty of those spars and 
 crystals which under the light of the altar glittered and 
 blushed with such gem-like radiance. From that altar now 
 rose a pyramid of fire ; piles of faggots, continually poured 
 from a grating above, fed the blaze to intolerable fierceness. 
 Smoke filled the mine. To escape was beyond hope. The 
 single orifice had been already tried. Around us was a solid 
 ■wall as old as the world. It was already heating with the 
 
XLatvs Ubou ^ill ir Come 
 
 Saiatbiei'g blaze ; our feet shrank from the floor. The flame, shooting 
 in a thousand spires, coiled and sprang against the roof, the 
 walls, and the ground. To remaia where we were, was to be 
 burned to cinders. The catastrophe was inevitable. 
 
 In the madness of paiu, I made a furious bound iuto the 
 column of fire. All followed, for death was certain, and the 
 sooner it came the better. With unspeakable feeliugs I saw, 
 at the back of the mound of stone on which the faggots 
 burned, an opening, hitherto concealed by the huge figure of 
 the idol. We crowded into it ; here we were at least out of 
 reach of the flame. But what was our chance save that of a 
 more lingeriag death? We hurried in; another portcullis 
 stood across the passage ! What was to be our fate but fam- 
 ine? We must perish in a lingering misery — of all miseries 
 the most appalling, and with the bitter aggravation of perish- 
 ing unknown, worthless, useless, stigmatized for slaves or 
 dastards ! What man of Israel would ever hear of our deaths? 
 What chronicler of Rome would deign to vindicate our absence 
 from the combat? 
 
 We were within hearing of that combat. The assault thun- 
 dered more wildly than ever over our heads; the alternate 
 shout of Jew and Roman descended to us. But where were 
 we? — caged, dungeoned, doomed ! If the earth had laid her 
 treasures at my feet that night, I would have given them for 
 one hour of freedom. Oh, for one struggle in daylight, to 
 redeem my name and avenge my country ! 
 
 The roar of battle suddenly sank. Was all lost? Con- 
 stantius slain? for with life he would not yield. Was the 
 whole hope of Judea crushed at a blow? I cried aloud to 
 my followers to force the portcuUis. They dragged and tore 
 at the bars. But it was of a solid strength that not ten times 
 ours could master. 
 
 In the midst of our hopeless labors, the sound of heavy 
 blows above caught my ear, and fragments of rock fell in ; the 
 blows were continued. Was this but a new expedient to crush 
 or suffocate us? A crevice at length showed the light of a 
 torch overhead. I grasped the ax to strike a last blow at the 
 gate and die. I heard a voice pronounce my name ! Another 
 
 288 
 
IPtisonecs in a Xabstintb 
 
 blow opened the roof. A face bent down, and a loud laugh ^[,j tleBCtter 
 proclaimed my crazy friend. 
 
 " Ha ! " said be, " are you there at last? You have had a 
 hard night's work of it. But come up; I have an incompar- 
 able joke to tell you about the tribune and the procurator. 
 Come up, my prince, and see the world." 
 
 I had no time to rebuke his jocularity. I climbed up the 
 rugged side of the passage, and found myself still in a dun- 
 geon. To my look of disappoiutment, he gave no other 
 answer than a laugh, and unscrewing a bar from the loophole 
 above his head — 
 
 "It is my custom," said he, "to make myself at my ease, 
 wherever I go; and as prisons fall to a man's lot, like other 
 things, I like to be able to leave my mansion whenever I am 
 tired of it." 
 
 "Forward, then," said I impatiently. 
 
 "Backward," said the beggar, with the most unruffled cool- 
 ness. " That loophole is for me alone. I may be under the 
 governor's care again, and I have shown it to you now merely 
 as a curiosity. Drink, my brave fellows, " said he, turning to 
 the troop below, and giving them a skin of wine; "soldiers 
 must have their comforts, my gallant prince, as well as beg- 
 gars. If that villain procurator had not come by express (for 
 no man alive is quicker to catch an idea where he is likely to 
 gain), you should have been by this time sleeping in the gov- 
 ernor's bed, and the governor probably supping with me. 
 But all is fortune, good and bad, in this world. The procur- 
 ator, putting your escape and mine together, began to think 
 that his presence might be useful here, and the laziest rogue 
 in Palestine came with a speed that might have done honor to 
 the quickest, who stands before you in my person. I had gone 
 on swimmingly with the governor, on the strength of your love- 
 letter, angry as it made him. But the first sight of Tlorus put 
 an end to my chance of opening the gates for your triumphal 
 entry. I was tied, neck and heels, and flung here, to be gib- 
 beted to-morrow morning. But that morning has not come 
 yet." 
 
 He paced the ceU uneasily. At length he sprang up, and 
 
 9S0 
 
XTatcis XTbou ^iU H dome 
 
 UbeKssauit looking from the loophole, ■whispered, "Now!" A low 
 creaking sound of machinery followed. 
 
 "Down into the cavern," said he; "that accursed cohort 
 has moved at last. Away, my prince, and seek your fortune." 
 
 I exhibited some reluctance to be engulfed again. But his 
 countenance assumed a sudden sternness. His only word was, 
 "Down!" 
 
 As we were parting he solemnly pronounced: "May what- 
 ever power befriends the righteous cause, and blasts the man 
 of infamy and blood, send the lightnings before you ! " 
 
 Tears stood in his uplifted eyes. His worn countenance 
 flushed as he spoke the words. He seized a spear from a 
 corner, and plunged after me into the cavern. 
 
 The portcullis had been drawn up by Sabat ; the passage 
 opened at the foot of the rampart. I could have rushed upon 
 an army. But the hand of our g^ide was on my shoulder. 
 
 "Tour attack," said he, "can be nothing, unless it be a 
 surprise. Move along unseen, if possible, tUl you come to 
 the flank: of the first tower. There wait for my signall " 
 He was gone. 
 
 The roar of the assault swelled again, tho it was cer- 
 tainly receding. I climbed the rampart alone. The torches 
 on a distant battlement showed me the Bomans in force, and 
 evidently making way. I could restrain myself no longer. I 
 gave the word — concealed by the shadow of the colossal wall 
 — fell upon the guard at the gate and cast it open ! Constan- 
 tius was the first who saw me. He sprang forward, with a 
 cry of exultation. The Romans on the battlement feeling 
 themselves cut off, were struck with panic, and threw down 
 their arms ; but we had more important objects, and rushed 
 back to the citadel. Our work was not yet done ; we were 
 entangled in the streets and lost time. The garrison was 
 strong, and fought like men who had no resource but in the 
 sword. 
 
 We were pressed on all sides; an arrow lodged in my 
 shoulder, and I could wield the ax no more. In a few 
 discharges, every man roimd me was bruised or bleeding. I 
 saw a Eoman column hurrying along the rampart, whose 
 
 240 
 
Copyright, 19U1, by Funk ife Wagnalls Company, N. Y. and London. 
 
 I gave the word — fell upon the guard at the gate, and cast it open ! 
 
 See page 240. 
 
Ipcisonecs in a TL&b^untb 
 
 charge must finisli the battle at once. But a blaze sprang up missta of 
 in the rear of the enemy. Another and another followed. 
 The governor's palace was on fire! The sight broke the 
 Eoman courage. Cries of "treachery" rang through the 
 ranks ; they turned, flung away spear and shield^-and I was 
 master of tixe strongest fortress in Palestine ! 
 
 le Ml 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 The 'i^evenffe of a. Vidor 
 
 "Cbe jBeggac'» Eesistaitce "was at an end, and we had now only to prevent 
 the conflagration from snatching the prize out of our hands. 
 The flames rose fiercely, and another hour might see the fa- 
 mous arsenal beyond the power of man. Leaving to Con- 
 stantius the care of securing the prisoners, I entered the 
 palace, followed by a detachment. In the tumult I had 
 missed my deliverer, yet scarcely could think of him, or any- 
 thing else, while the enemy were showering lances and shafts 
 upon us. But now, some fears of his extravagance recurred 
 to me, and I ordered strict search to be made for him. The 
 fire had seized on but a wing of the palace and was soon ex- 
 tinguished. I was ascending the stairs when a figure bounded 
 full against me from a side door. It was the beggar. His- 
 voice, however, was my only means of recognition, for his 
 outward man had undergone a total change. He wore a rich 
 cuirass and helmet, a Greek falchion glittered ta his embroid- 
 ered belt, a tissued mantle hung over his shoulder, and a 
 spear ponderous, but inlaid and polished with the nicest art, 
 was brandished in his hand. 
 
 "What," said he, "is all over? May all the fogs of earth 
 and skies cloud me, but I was bom under the most malignant 
 planet that ever did mischief; I left you only to do some busi- 
 ness of my own ; I failed there. My next business was to join 
 and help you to give a lesson to those Roman hounds ; or, if 
 they were to give the lesson to us, take chance along with 
 you and exhibit as a soldier. I ventured to borrow the gov- 
 ernor's arms, as you see, but I am always unlucky." 
 
 "If it was you who set this roof on fire, your torch was 
 worth an army." 
 
 "Aye, I never saw fire fail; no man is ashamed of running 
 
^be TRevenge or a Ifictot 
 
 away from a blaze ; aad I thouglit that the Eomaas were tired ube «eggat 
 enough, to be glad of the excuse. But I had a point besides fflotus * 
 to carry. Floras is somewhere under these ceilings. I deter- 
 mined to burn him out, and pay home my long arrear, as he 
 attempted to make his escape. But you have just extin- 
 guished the cleverest earthly contrivance for the discovery of 
 rascal governors, and I must break an oath I made long ago, 
 against his ever dying in his bed." 
 
 "riorus here! then we must find him without delayl- 'But 
 who comes? " 
 
 At the word I seized a slave of the palace, attempting to 
 escape. He begged hard for his life, and promised to con- 
 duct us where the procurator was concealed. We hurried on 
 through a succession of winding passages; a strong door 
 stopped us. 
 
 "There," said the slave. 
 
 "By the beard of my fathers, the wolf shall not be long in 
 his den!" cried the son of El Hakim. "Procurator, your 
 last crime is committed." 
 
 He threw himself against the door with prodigious force ; 
 the bars burst away, and before us lay the terror of Judea. 
 
 He was to be a terror no more. A cup, the inseparable 
 amethystine cup, stood on the table beside his couch. He lay 
 writhing in pain. His countenance wore the ghastliest hue 
 of death. I bade him surrender. He smiled, took the cup in 
 his trembling hand, and eagerly swallowed the remaining 
 drops in its bottom. 
 
 "What! poison!" exclaimed my companion; "has the 
 villain escaped me? Here is my planet again; never was man 
 so unlucky. But he is not dead yet." 
 
 He drew his falchion, and lifted it up with the look of one 
 about to offer a solemn sacrifice. I seized his arm. 
 
 "He is dying," said I; "he is beyond earthly vengeance." 
 
 The wretched criminal before us was nearly insensible to his 
 brief preservation. The poison, acting upon a frame already 
 broken with public and private anxieties, was making quick 
 work, and the glazed eye, the fallen countenance, and the col- 
 lapsed limb showed that his last hour was come. 
 
 243 
 
tTacrs Ubou tlill H Come 
 
 trbtBeatbrfBe!) "And tMs is the thing," soliloquized the son of El Hakim, 
 "'fimw' "that men feared! In this senseless flesh was the power to 
 make the free tremble for their freedom, and the slave curse 
 the hour that he was bom. This mass of mortality could 
 staud between me and happiuess — could make me a beggar, a 
 wanderer, miserable, mad! " 
 
 He caught up the hand that hung nerveless from the 
 couch. 
 
 "Accursed hand!" exclaimed he, "what torrents of blood 
 have owed their flowing to thee ! A word written by these 
 fingers cost a thousand lives. And, Heaven ! in this cruel 
 grasp was the key of thy dungeon, my Mary! — that dungeon 
 of more than the body, the hideous prison-house that extin- 
 guished thy mind! " 
 
 He let fall the hand and wept bitterly. 
 
 To my utter surprise the procui-ator started upon his feet, 
 and with the look that had so often made the heart quake, 
 haughtily demanded who we were, and how we dared to in- 
 terrupt his privacy? I felt as if a spirit had started up before 
 me from the shroud. But this extraordinary revival was mere- 
 ly the last effort of a fierce mind. He tottered, and was fall- 
 ing, when my companion darted forward, grasped him by the 
 bosom with one hand, and waving the falchion above him with 
 the other — 
 
 " He hears ! he sees ! " exclaimed he exultingly. " "Who 
 are we? Who am I? Look upon me, Gessius Floras, 
 before the sight leaves your eyes forever. See Sabat the 
 Ishmaelite, the despised, the insulted, the trampled, the 
 undone! But never did you prosper from the hour of my 
 ruin. 1 was your spy, but it was only to bring you into a 
 snare ; I fed your pride, but it was only that it might turn 
 the hearts of all men against you; I tempted your avarice, 
 only that wealth might make your nights sleepless, and your 
 days, days of fear ; I roused your wrath into rage ; I inflamed 
 your ambition into frenzy ! This night, I led your conquerors 
 upon you. But I had made all sure. In another week, Ges- 
 sius Floras, if you had escaped this sword, you would have 
 been seized by order of the Emperor, stripped of yotir wealth, 
 
 244 
 
xme "Revenge ot a IDlctot 
 
 your accursed power, and your wretched life. The commaad ube cDatwe fn 
 for your blood is this night crossing the Mediterranean ! " "* '" "' 
 
 The djdng man struggled to get free, wrenched himself by 
 a violent effort from the strong grasp that at once held and 
 sustained him, and fell. He was dead! 
 
 The son of El Hakim stood gazing on the body in silence, 
 when the glitter of a ring on the hand, as it lay spread upon 
 the floor, struck his eye. He seized it with an outcry ; the 
 man was wholly changed; his frowning visage flashed with 
 joy. I in vain demanded the cause. He pressed the signet 
 to his lips. 
 
 "Farewell, farewell," he exclaimed. 
 
 " Will you not wait for your share of the spoil, your ample 
 and deserved reward? " 
 
 " Farewell ! " he repeated, and burst from the chamber. 
 
 This memorable night made changes in more than the Ish- 
 maelite. Constantius was at last in his element. I had 
 hitherto seen him disguised by circumstances; the fugitive 
 from his country, the lover under the embarrassments of for- 
 bidden passion, the ill-statred soldier. His native vigor of 
 soul was under a perpetual cloud. But now the cloud broke 
 away, and the consciousness of having nobly retrieved his 
 check, and the still prouder consciousness of the career that 
 this triumph laid open before him, brought the character of 
 his mind into full light. He was now the lofty enthusiast 
 that nature made him. He breathed generous ambition ; his 
 step was the step of command ; and when he rushed to my 
 embrace with almost the eagerness of a boy, and a voice stifled 
 with emotion, I saw in him the romance, the soaring spirit, 
 and the passionate love of glory that molded the Greek hero. 
 
 He had done his duty nobly. All were in admiration of 
 the assault. The Komans had been fully prepared. He 
 scaled the rampart, and scaled it in their teeth. His men 
 followed gallantly. He pressed on ; the second rampart was 
 stormed. I had found him at the foot of the third, checked 
 by its impregnable mass, but defying the whole garrison to 
 drive him back. When I afterward saw the strength of those 
 bulwarks, I felt that with such a leader at the head of troops 
 
 246 
 
a;arte ^bou UlII ir come 
 
 iSatetbieiiBcctB animated by his spirit, there was nothing extravagant in the 
 boldest hope of war. 
 
 This was an eventful night, and there was still much to be 
 done before we slept. I threw over my tattered garments one 
 of the many mantles that lay loose round the chamber, flung 
 another on the body of the procurator, and sallied forth to 
 give the final orders of the night. The prisoners had been 
 already secured, and I found the great hall of the palace 
 crowded with centurions. The iuterview was whimsical ; for 
 a while I escaped recognition ; the gashed faces and torn rai- 
 ment of my hunters, which bore the marks of our dreary 
 march through the subterranean ; the rough heads and hands 
 stained with the fight, a startling contrast to the perfect 
 equipment of the Roman under all circumstances, gave them 
 the look of the robber tribes. My disguise was in the con- 
 trary way, yet complete. The cloak was accidentally one of 
 the most showy in the procurator's wardrobe. I found my- 
 self enveloped in furs and tissues ; and their Arab acquain- 
 tance was forgotten in what seemed to them the legitimate 
 monarch of the mountains. 
 
 I was received by the circle of captives with the decent 
 dignity of the brave. There was but one exception, which I 
 might have guessed — the tribune. He was all humiliation, 
 stooped to make some abject request about his baubles, and 
 was probably on the point of apologizing for his ever having 
 taken up the trade of war, when I turned on my heel and 
 shook hands with my old friend the captain. He looked in 
 evident perplexity. At last, through even the grim evidences 
 of the night's work on my countenance, and the problem of 
 my pompous mantle, his brightening eye began to recognize 
 me, and he burst out with : " The Arab, by Jupiter ! " But 
 when I asked him what had become of his baggage, I touched 
 a tender string, and, with a countenance as grave as if he had 
 sustained an irreparable calamity, he told me that his whole 
 traveling cellar was in the hands of my men, and it was his 
 full belief that he was at that moment not worth a flask in 
 the wide world! 
 
 The tribune turned away in conscious disgrace, and I sent 
 
 246 
 
ttbe "Rcpenge ot a Wlctot 
 
 him to a dungeon to meditate till morn on the awkwardness of Ufie Btmots- 
 insolence to strangers. With the others, I sat down to such " *'"' 
 entertainment as a sacked fortress could supply, but which 
 hunger, thirst, and fatigue rendered worth all the banquets 
 of the idle. The old captaia cheered his soul and grew rhe- 
 torical. 
 
 "Wiue," said he, flask in hand, "does wonders. It is the 
 true leveler, for it leaves no troublesome iuequality of condi- 
 tions. It is the true sponge that pays all debts at sight, for 
 it makes us forget the existence of a creditor. It is the true 
 friend that sticks by a man to the last drop ; the faithful 
 mistress that forsakes no man; and the most charming of 
 wives, whose tongue no husband hears, whose company is 
 equally delightful at all hours, and who is as bewitching to- 
 day as she was fifty years ago." 
 
 The panegyric was popular. The governor's cellar flowed. 
 The Italian connoisseurship iu vintages was displayed in the 
 most profound style, and long before we parted the great 
 " sponge " which wipes away debt had wiped away erery recol- 
 lection of defeat. The idea of their being prisoners never 
 clouded a sunbeam that came from the bottle. The letters 
 scattered from the tribune's saddle were an unfailing topic. 
 The legion had picked them up on the march ; they had the 
 piquancy of the scandal of particular friends ; and the addi- 
 tion made to their intelligence by my wild associate was iman- 
 imously declai-ed the most dexterous piece of frolic, the 
 most pleasant venom, and the most venomous pleasantry, that 
 ever emanated from the wit of man. 
 
 My task was not yet done. I left those gay soldiers to 
 their wine, and with Constantius and some torch-bearers has- 
 tened to the Armory of Herod — the forbidden ground; the 
 treasure-house of war ; and, if old rumor were to be believed, 
 the place of many a mysterious celebration unlawful to be 
 seen by human eyes. 
 
 The building was in the center of the citadel," and was of 
 the stateliest architecture. The massive doors were now 
 thrown open. At the first step, I shrank from the blaze of 
 steel and gold that shot back against the torches. The walls 
 
 247 
 
Cares tibou tlUI IF Come 
 
 ■BbtStetet of this gigantic hall were covered with arms and armor of 
 
 fmn 
 
 every nation — cuirasses, Persian, Roman, and Greek ; the 
 plate mail of the Gaul ; the Indian chain-armor ; innumerable 
 headpieces, from the steel cap of the Scythian to the plumed 
 and triple-crested helmet of the Greek, that richest combina- 
 tion of strength and beauty ever borne by soldiership ; shields 
 of every shape and sculpture; the Greek orb, the Persian 
 rhomb, the Cimmerian crescent; all arms — the ponderous 
 spear of the phalanx ; the Thracian pike ; the German war- 
 hatchet; the Italian javelin; the bow, from the Nubian, twice 
 the height of man, to the small half -circle of the Assyrian 
 cavalry ; swords, the broad-bladed and fearful falchion of the 
 Eoman, every thrust of which let out a life ; the huge two- 
 handed sword of the Baltic tribes ; the Syrian simitar ; the 
 Persian acinaees ; the deep-hilted knife of the Indian islander ; 
 the Arab poniard ; the serrated blade of the African — all were 
 there in their richest models, the collection of Herod's life. 
 War had raised him to a rank which allowed the indulgence 
 of his most lavish tastes of good and ill ; the sword was his 
 true scepter, and never king bore the sign of his sovereignty 
 more royaUy emblazoned. 
 
 After long admiration of this display of the wealth dearest 
 to the soldier, I was retiring, when a slave approached, and 
 prostrating himself, told me that a hall remained, still more 
 singular, "the hall in which the great Herod received his 
 death- warning. " 
 
 I gazed round the armory ; there was no door but the one 
 by which we had entered 
 
 "Not here," said the Ethiopian, "yet it is beside us. The 
 foot of a Eoman has never entered it. The secret remains with 
 me alone. Does my lord command that it shall be revealed? " 
 
 The order was given. The slave took down one of the coats 
 of maU., pushed back a valve, and we entered a winding stair 
 which led us downward for some minutes. The narrow pas- 
 sage and heavy air reminded me of the subterranean. Our 
 torches burned dimly, and the visages of my attendants 
 showed how little their gallantry was to be relied on, if we 
 were to be brought into cpntact with magic and ghosts. 
 
 248 
 
'dbe TRevenae of a IDictoc 
 
 "Here," said the Ethiopian, "it was the custom of the great obe sseieton 
 king in his declining years, when his heart was broken by the " "" 
 
 loss of the most beloTed of wives, and maddened by the con- 
 spiracies of the princes, his sons, to come and consult others 
 than the God of Jerusalem. Here the Chaldee men of wis- 
 dom came to summon the spirits of the departed and show the 
 fates of kingdoms. We are now in the bowels of the moun- 
 tain." 
 
 He loosed a chain, which disappeared into the ground with 
 a hollow noise. A huge mass of rock slowly rolled back, and 
 showed a depth of darkness through which our twinkling 
 torches scarcely made way. 
 
 "Stop," said the slave; "I should have first lighted the 
 shrine." 
 
 He left us, and we shortly saw a blaze of many colors 
 on a tripod in the center. As the blaze strengthened, a 
 scene of wonder awoke before the eye. A host of armed 
 statues grew upon the darkness. The immense vault was 
 peopled with groups of warriors, all the great military leaders 
 of the world in their native arms, and surrounded by a cluster 
 of their captains ; the disturbers of the earth, from Sesostris 
 down to Caesar and Antony, brandishing the lance or reining 
 the charger, each in his known attitude of command. There 
 rushed Cyrus in the scythed chariot, surrounded by his horse- 
 men, barbed from head to foot. There was to be seen Alex- 
 ander, with the banner of Macedon waving above his head, 
 and armed as when he leaped into the Granicus ; there Han- 
 nibal, upon the elephant that he rode at Cannae ; there Caesar, 
 with the head of Pompey at his feet. Those, and a long 
 succession of the masters of victory, each in the moment of 
 supreme fortune, made the vault a representative palace of 
 human glory. But the view from the entrance told but half 
 the tale. It was when I advanced and lifted the torch to the 
 countenance of the first group that the moral was visible. 
 All the visages were those of skeletons. The costly armor 
 was hung upon bones. The spears and scepters were bran- 
 dished by the thin fingers of the grave. The vault was the 
 representative sepulcher of human vanity. This was one of 
 
 349 
 
Carrg Cbou Xlill U Come 
 
 tetos'8 Beatb the fantastic fits of a mind -which felt too late the emptiness 
 of earthly honors. Half pagan, the powerful intellect of the 
 man gave "way to the sullen superstitions of the murderer. 
 Egypt was still the mystic tyrant of Palestine, and Herod, in 
 his despair, sank into the slave of a credulity at once weak 
 and terrible. 
 
 In the last hours of a long and deeply varied life, exhausted 
 more by misery of soul than disease, when medicine was hope- 
 less, and he had returned from tryiug the famous springs of 
 Callirhoe iu vain, the king ordered himself to be brought into 
 this vault, and left alone. He remained in it during some 
 hours. The attendants were at length roused by hideous 
 wailiags ; they broke open the entrance, and found him in a 
 paroxysm of terror. The vault was filled with the strong 
 odors of some magical preparations, still burning on the 
 tripod. The sound of departing feet was heard, but Herod 
 sat alone. In accents of the wildest wo he declared that he 
 had seen the statues filled with sudden life, and charging him 
 with the death of his wife and children. 
 
 He left Masada iastantly, prononnciug a curse upon the 
 hour in which he first listened to the arts of Egypt. He was 
 carried to Jericho, and there laid on a bed, from which he 
 never rose. Alternate bursts of blasphemy and remorse made 
 his parting moments frightful. But tyranny was in his last 
 thought, and he died, holding in his hand an order for the 
 massacre of every leading man in Judea. 
 
 VIO 
 
CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 The DifficaUies of a. Lender 
 
 The first decided blow of the war was given. I had in- ube jfirat 
 curred the full wrath of Eome ; the trench between me and 
 forgiveness was impassable, and I felt a stern delight ia the 
 conviction that hope of truce or pardon was at an end; the 
 seizure of Masada was a defiance of the whole power of the 
 empire. But it had the higher importance of a triumph at 
 the beginning of a war, the moment when even the courageous 
 are perplexed by doubt, and the timid watch their opportunity 
 to raise the cry of ill fortune. It showed the facility of con- 
 quest, where men are determined to run the full risk of good 
 or evil; it shook the military credit of the enemy, by the 
 proof that they could be overmatched in activity, spirit, and 
 conduct. The capture of a Roman fortress by assault was a 
 thing almost unheard of. But the consummate value of the 
 enterprise was, in its declaration to those who would fight, 
 that they had leaders, able and willing to take the last chance 
 with them for the freedom of their country. 
 
 When day broke and the strength of this celebrated fortress 
 was fairly visible, I could scarcely believe that our success 
 was altogether the work of man. The genius of ancient forti- 
 fication produced nothing more remarkable than Masada. It 
 stood on the summit of a height so steep that the sun never 
 reached the bottom of the surrounding defiles. Its outer wall 
 was a mile round, with thirty-eight towers, each eighty feet 
 high. Immense marble cisterns; granaries like palaces, ca- 
 pable of holding provisions for years ; exhaustless arms and 
 military engines, in buildings of the finest Greek art ; defenses 
 of the most costly skiU at every commanding point of the 
 interior — all showed the kingly magnificence and warlike care 
 
 251 
 
^arcs (Ibou ZiU H Gome 
 
 Vbe Duties of of the most brilliant, daring, and successful monaxch. of Ju- 
 dea since Solomon. 
 
 By the first dawn a new wonder struck the population, 
 whom the tum.ult of the night had gathered on the neighbor- 
 ing hills. I ordered the great standard of Naphtali to be 
 hoisted on the citadel. It was raised amid shouts and hymns, 
 and the huge scarlet folds spread out, majestically displaying 
 the emblem of our tribe, the Silver Stag, before the mom. 
 Shouts echoed and reechoed round the horizon. The hill- 
 tops, covered as far as the eye could reach, did homage to 
 the banner of Jewish deliverance, and inspired by the sight, 
 every man of their thousands took sword and spear and made 
 ready for war. 
 
 My first care was to relieve the anxieties of my family, and 
 Constantius, with triumph in every feature, and love and 
 honor glowing in his heart, was made the bearer of the glad 
 tidings. The duties of command now devolved rapidly on 
 me. An army to be raised, a plan of operations to be deter- 
 mined on, the chieftains of the country to be combined, and 
 the profligate feuds of Jerusalem to be extinguished, were the 
 difficulties that lay before my first step. It is in preliminaries 
 like these that the burning spirit of a man, full of the manli- 
 est resolutions and caring no more for personal safety than 
 he cares for the weed under his feet, is fated to feel the true 
 troubles of enterprise. 
 
 I soon experienced the disgust of having to contend with 
 the indolent, the artful, and the base. My mind, eager to 
 follow up the first success, was entangled in tedious and in- 
 tricate negotiation with men whom no sense of right or wrong 
 could stimulate to integrity. Rival interests to be conciliated, 
 gross corruption to be crushed, paltry passions to be stig- 
 matized, family hatreds to be reconciled, childish antipa- 
 thies, grasping avarice, giddy ambition, savage cruelty, to be 
 rectified, propitiated, or punished, were among my tasks 
 before I could plant a foot in the field. If those are the 
 fruits that grow round even the righteous cause, what must 
 be the rank crop of conspiracy? 
 
 But one point I speedily settled. The first assemblage of 
 
 252 
 
Zbe Difliculttea of a TLenOet 
 
 the chieftains satisfied me as to the absurdity of councils of Ube value of 
 war. Every naan had his plan, and every plan had some per- 
 sonal object in view. I saw that to discuss them would be 
 useless and endless. I had already begun to learn the diplo- 
 matic art of taking my own way with the most unruffled as- 
 pect. I desired the proposers to reduce their views to wri- 
 ting, received their memorials with perfect civility, took them 
 to my cabinet, and gave their brilliancy to add to the blaze of 
 my fire. High station is soon compelled to dissemble. A 
 month before I should have spoken out my mind and treated 
 the plans and the proposers alike with scorn. But a month 
 before I was neither general nor statesman. Freed now from 
 the encumbrance of many councilors, I decided on a rapid 
 march to Jerusalem " — there was power and glory in the word. 
 By this measure I should be master of all that final victory 
 could give, the popular mind, the national resources, and the 
 highest prize of the most successful war. 
 
 Those thoughts banished rest from my pillow. I passed 
 day and night in a perpetual, feverish exaltation of mind; yet 
 if I were to compute my few periods of happiness, among 
 them would be the week when I could neither eat, drink, nor 
 sleep, from the mere overflowing of my warlike reveries at 
 Masada. We may well forgive the splenetic apathy and sullen 
 scorn of life that beset the holder of power, when time or 
 chance leaves his grasp empty. The mighty monarch ; the 
 general, on whose sword hung the balance of empires; the 
 statesman, on whose council rose or fell the welfare of mil- 
 lions, sunk into the unexciting employments of common life, 
 their genius and their fame a burden and, a reproach, the 
 source of a restless and indignant contrast between what they 
 were and what they are ; how feeble an emblem of such minds 
 is the lion fanged or the eagle chained ! We may pass by 
 even the frivolities which so often make the world stare at the 
 latter years of famous men. When they can no longer soar to 
 their natural height, all beneath is equal to them ; our petty 
 wisdom is not worth tiieir trouble. They scorn the little opin- 
 ions of commonplace mankind, and follow their own tasteSf 
 contemptaously trifle and proudly play the fool. 
 
 853 
 
tratcg c;bou zm f come 
 
 1 Saiatbtei leabs Before the week was done, I was at the head of a hundred 
 laningnrrectiontiiousand men; I was the champion of a great country; the 
 leader of the most formidable insurrection that ever contended 
 with Eome in the east ; the general of an army whose fidelity 
 and spirit were not to be surpassed on earth. Could ambition 
 ask more? Yet there was even more, tho too solemn to be 
 asked by human ambition. My nation was sacred ; a cause 
 above human nature was to be defended ; in that cause I might 
 at once redeem my own name from obscurity, and be the in- 
 strument of exalting the name, authority, and religion of a 
 people, the regal people of the Sovereign of all ! 
 
 Constantius returned. It was in vaia that I had directed 
 my family to take refuge in the mountain country of Naph- 
 tali. My authority was for once disputed at home. Strong 
 affection mastered fear, and swift as love could speed, I saw 
 them enter the gates of Masada. 
 
 Such meetings can come but once in a life. I waa sur- 
 rounded by innocent fondness, beauty most admirable, and 
 faith that no misfortunes could shake ; and I was surrounded 
 by them in an hour when prosperity seemed laboring to 
 lavish on me all the wishes of man. I felt, too, by tha 
 glance with which Miriam looked upon her "hero," that I had 
 earned a higher title to the world's respect. Had she found 
 me in chains, she would have shared them without a murmur. 
 But her lofty heart rejoiced to find her husband thus vindica- 
 ting his claims to the homage of mankind. 
 
 Yet to those matchless enjoyments I gave up but one day. 
 By the next dawn, the trumpet sounded for the march. I 
 knew the importance of following up the first blow in all 
 wars — its matchless importance in a war of insurrection. To 
 meet the disciplined troops of Rome in pitched battles would 
 be madness. The true maneuver was to distract their atten- 
 tion by variety of onset, cut off their communications, keep 
 their camps in perpetual alarm, and make our activity, num- 
 bers, and knowledge of the country the substitutes for equip- 
 ment, experience, and the science of the soldier. 
 
 In summoning those brave men, I renewed the regulations 
 of the Mosaic law " — a law whose regard for natural feelings 
 
 254 
 
XLbe Difficulties of a Xeadec 
 
 distinguislied it in the most striking manner from the stem Hn ©men 
 
 violences of the pagan levy. No man was required to take up 
 
 arms who had built a house and had not yet dedicated it ; no 
 
 man who had planted a vineyard or olive ground, and had not 
 
 yet reaped the produce ; no man who had betrothed a wife 
 
 and' had not yet taken her home; and no man during the 
 
 first year of his marriage. 
 
 My prisoners were my last embarrassment. To leave them 
 to the chance of popular mercy, or to leave them immured in 
 the fortress, would be cruelty. To let them loose would be, 
 of course, to give so many soldiers to the enemy. I adopted 
 the simpler expedient of marching them to Berytus, seizing a 
 squadron of the Eoman provision ships, and embarking the 
 whole for Italy. To my old friend the captain, whose cheer- 
 fulness could be abated only by a failure of the vintage, I 
 offered a tranquil settlement among our hills. The etiquette 
 of soldiership was formidably tasked by my offer, for the 
 veteran was thoroughly weary of his thankless service. He 
 hesitated, swore that I deserved to be a Eoman, and even 
 a captain of horse ; but finished by saying that, bad a trade as 
 the army was, he was too old to learn a better. I gave him 
 and some others their unconditional liberty, and he parted 
 from the Jewish rebel with more obvious regret than perhaps 
 he ever dreamed himself capable of feeling for anything but 
 his horse ajid his Falernian. 
 
 Eleazar took the charge of my family and the command of 
 Masada. The sun burst out with cheerful omen on the troops, 
 as I wound down the steep road, named the Serpent, from its 
 extreme obliquity. The sight before me was of a nature to 
 exhilarate the heaviest heart; an immense host making 
 the air ring with acclamations at the coming of their chief- 
 tain. The mental perspective of public honors and national 
 service was still more exalting. Yet I felt a boding depres- 
 sion, as if within those walls had begun and ended my pros- 
 perity! 
 
 On the first ridge which crossed our march I instinctively 
 stopped to give a farewell look. The breeze had sunk, and 
 the scarlet banner shook out its folds to the sun no more ; a 
 
 255 
 
V.titvs Ubou ;rfll f Come 
 
 vcbe iBarcbing cloud hung on the mountain-peak and covered the fortress 
 with gloom. I turned away. The omen was true. 
 
 But sickly thoughts were forgotten when we were once 
 fairly on the march. "Who that has ever marched with an 
 army has not known its ready cure for heaviness of heart? 
 The sound of the moving multitude, their broad mirth, the 
 mere trampling of their feet, the picturesque lights that fall 
 upon the columns as they pass over the inequalities of the 
 ground, keep the eye and the mind singularly alive. 
 
 Our men felt the whole delight of the scene, and ran about 
 like deer, or horses let loose into pasture. But to the military 
 habits of Constantius this rude vigor was the highest vexa- 
 tion. He galloped from flank to flank with hopeless dili- 
 gence, found that his arrangements only perplexed our bold 
 peasantry the more, and at length fairly relinquished the idea 
 of gaining any degree of credit by the brilliancy of their dis- 
 cipline. But I, no more a tactician than themselves, was 
 content with seeing in them the material of the true sol- 
 dier. The spear was carried awkwardly, but the hand that 
 carried it was strong; the march was irregular, but the 
 step was firm; if there were song, and mirth, and clamor, 
 they were the cheerful voices of the brave; and I could 
 read in the countenances of ranks which no skill could keep 
 in order, the generous devotedness that, in wars like ours, 
 have so often baffled the proud and left of the mighty but 
 clay. 
 
 During the day we saw no enemy, and swept along with the 
 unembarrassed step of men going up to one of our festivals. 
 The march was hot ; the zeal of our young soldiers made it 
 rapid, and we continued it long after the usual hour of re- 
 pose. But then sleep took its thorough revenge. It was 
 fortunate for our fame that the enemy was not nigh, for 
 sleep fastened irresistibly and at once upon the whole multi- 
 tude. Sentinels were planted in vain ; the spears fell from 
 their haads, and the watchers were tranquilly laid side by side 
 with the slumbering. Outposts and the usual precautionary 
 arrangements were equally useless. Sleep was our master. 
 Constantius exerted his vigilance with fruitless activity, and 
 
 258 
 
Zbe 2>Mcu[ties ot n 3Lea^ec 
 
 before an hour passed, he and I were probably the sole senti- con»tanHu» 
 nels of the grand army of Judea. nespairg 
 
 "What can be done with such sluggards? " said he indig- 
 nantly, pointing to the heaps that, wrapped in their cloaks, 
 covered the fields far round, and in the moonlight looked 
 more like surges tipped with foam than human beings. 
 
 "What can be done? Wonders." 
 
 " Will they ever be able to maneuver in the face of the 
 legions? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 " Will they ever be able to move like regular troops? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "WUl they ever be able to keep their eyes open after sun- 
 set? " 
 
 "Never, after such a march as we have given them to-day." 
 
 "What, then, under heaven, will they be good for? " 
 
 "To beat the Romans out of Palestine! " 
 17 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 "Never ShaU Thoa Enter Jemsatem" 
 
 Ube appears Befoee the sun was up my peasants were on the march 
 ^Enm?* again. Prom the annual journeys of the tribes to the great 
 city, no country was ever known, so well to its whole popula- 
 tion, as Palestine. Every hill, forest, and mountain stream 
 was now saluted with a shout of old recognition. Discipline 
 was forgotten as we approached those spots of memory, and 
 the troops rambled loosely over the ground on which in gentler 
 times they had rested in the midst of their caravans. Con- 
 stantius had many an irritation to encounter, but I combated 
 his wrath, and pledged myself that when the occasion arrived, 
 my countrymen would show the native vigor of the soU. 
 
 "Let my peasants take their way," said I. "If they will 
 not make an army, let them make a mob ; let them come into 
 the field with the bold propensities of their nature unchecked 
 by the trammels of regular warfare ; let them feel themselves 
 men and not machines, and I pledge myself for their victory." 
 
 "They wUl soon have the opportunity; look yonder." 
 
 He pointed to a low range of misty hills some miles onward. 
 
 "Are we to fight the clouds, for I can see nothing else? " 
 
 " Our troops, I think, would be exactly the proper antago- 
 nists. But there is one cloud upon those hiUs that something 
 more than the wind must drive away." 
 
 The sun threw a passing gleam upon the heights, and it 
 was returned by the sparkling of spears. The enemy were 
 before us. Constantius galloped with some of our hunters to 
 the front, to observe their position. The trumpets sounded, 
 and my countrymen justified all that I had said by the en- 
 thusiasm that lighted up every countenance at the hope of 
 coming in contact with the oppressor. 
 
 We advanced; shouts rang from tribe to tribe; we quick- 
 
 258 
 
' IRever Sbalt tlbou JBntet Jerusalem ' 
 
 ened our pace ; at length the whole multitude ran. At the a ssitful 
 foot of the height every man pushed forward without waiting 
 for his fellow ; it was complete confusion. The chief force 
 against us was cavalry, and I saw them preparing to charge. 
 We must suffer prodigiously, let the day end how it would. 
 The whole campaign might hang on the first repulse. I stood 
 in agony. I saw the squadrons level their lances. I saw the 
 centurions dash out in front. All was ready for the fatal 
 charge. To my astonishment, the whole of the cavalry 
 wheeled round and disappeared. 
 
 The panic was like miracle — equally rapid and unaccount- 
 able. I rode to the top of the hill and discovered the secret. 
 Constantius, observing the enemy's attention taken up with 
 my advance, had made his way round the heights. His 
 trumpet gave the first notice of the maneuver. Their rear was 
 threatened, and the cavalry fled, leaving a cohort in our hands. 
 
 Never was successful soldier honored with a more clamorous 
 triumph than Constantius. Nature speaks out among her un- 
 tutored sons. Envy has nothing to do in such fields as ours. 
 He was applauded to the skies. 
 
 "Well," said I, as I pressed the gallant hand that had 
 planted the first laurel on our brows, "you see that, if plow- 
 men and shepherds make rude soldiers, they make capital 
 judges of soldiership. You might have conquered a kingdom 
 without receiving half this panegyric in Rome." 
 
 " The service is but begun, and we shall have another lesson 
 to get or give to-morrow. Those fellows are grateful, I al- 
 low," said he, with a smile, "but you must confess that, for 
 what has been done, we have to thank the discipline that 
 brought us into the Eoman rear." 
 
 " Yes, and the discipline that made them so much alarmed 
 about their rear as to run away when they might have charged 
 and beaten us." 
 
 This little affair put us all in spirits, and the songs and 
 cheerful clamors burst out with renewed animation. But 
 the appearance of the enemy soon became evident. We found 
 the ruined cottage, the torn-up garden, the burned orchard — 
 those habitual evidences of the camp. As we advanced, the 
 
 259 
 
Znn^ Zbon ttill H Come 
 
 H Scene of tracks of wagons and of the huge wheels of the military en- 
 nspica on g^gg were fresh in the grass, and from time to time some 
 skeleton of a beast of burden, or some half -covered wreck of 
 man, sliowed that desolation, had walked there; the cavalry 
 soon appeared on the heights in larger bodies ; but all was 
 forgotten in the sight that at length rose upon the horizon — 
 we beheld, bathed in the richest glow of a summer's eve, the 
 summits of the mountains round Jerusalem, and glorious above 
 them, like another sun, the golden beauty of the Temple of 
 temples ! 
 
 "What Jew ever saw that sight but with homage of heart? 
 Kne fancies may declaim of the rapture of returning to one's 
 country after long years. Rapture! to find ourselves in a 
 land of strangers, ourselves forgotten, our early scenes so 
 changed that we can scarcely retrace them, filled up with new 
 faces, or with the old so worn by time and care that we read 
 in them nothing but the emptiness of human hope ; the whole 
 world new, frivolous, and contemptuous of our feelings. 
 Where is the mother, the sister, the woman of our heart? 
 We find their only memorials among the dead, and bitterly 
 feel that our true country is the tomb. 
 
 But the return to Zion was not of the things of this world. 
 The Jew saw before him the city of prophecy and power. 
 Mortal thoughts, individual sorrows, the melancholy experi- 
 ences of human life, had no place among the mighty hopes 
 that gathered over it, like angels' wings. Restoration, bound- 
 less empire, imperishable glory, were the writing upon its bul- 
 warks. It stood before him, the Universal City, whose gates 
 were to be open for the reverence of all time ; the symbol to 
 the earth of the returning presence of the Great King; the 
 promise to the Jew of an empire, triumphant over the casual- 
 ties of nations, the crimes of man, and even the all-grasping 
 avarice of the grave. 
 
 The multitude prostrated themselves; then rising, broke 
 forth into the glorious hymn sung by the tribes on their jour- 
 neys to the Temple : 
 
 " Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised, in the city 
 of our God, the mountain of his holiness. 
 
 2«0 
 
"Bevec Sbalt ^bou £ntec ^ecusalem' 
 
 "Beautiful, the joy of the earth is Mount Zion, the city of a Uri6ai 
 the Great King! ^i^"" 
 
 " God is known in her palaces for a refuge. 
 
 " We have thought of thy loving-kiadness, God, in the 
 midst of thy temple. 
 
 " Walk about Zion, tell the towers thereof. Mark ye her 
 bulwarks, consider her palaces. For her God is our God, for- 
 ever and ever ; he will be our guide in death ; his praise is to 
 the ends of the earth. Glory to the king of Zion." 
 
 The harmony of the adoring myriads rose sweet and solemn 
 upon the air ; the sky was a canopy of sapphire ; the breeze 
 rich with the eveniag flowers ; Jerusalem before me ! I felt 
 as if the coveriag of my mortal nature was about to be cast 
 away, and my spirit to go forth on a bright and boundless 
 career of fortune. 
 
 But recollections, never to be subdued, saddened my mem- 
 ory of the Temple, and when the first influence of the homage 
 passed, I turned from the sight of what was to me the eternal 
 monument of the heaviest crime of man. I gave one parting 
 glance as day died upon the spires. To my surprise, they 
 were darkened by more than twilight ; I glanced again, smoke 
 rolled cloud on cloud over Mount Moriah ; the distant roar of 
 battle startled us. Had the enemy anticipated our march, 
 and was Jerusalem about to be stormed before our eyes? 
 
 We were not left long to Conjecture. Crowds of frightened 
 women and children were seen flying across the country. The 
 roar swelled again ; we answered it by shouts and rushed on- 
 ward. Unable to ascertain the point of attack, I halted the 
 multitude at the entrance of one of the roads ascending to the 
 great gate of the uppet city, and galloped forward with a few 
 of my people. 
 
 A horseman rushed, from the gate with a heedless rapidity 
 which must have flung him into the midst of our ranks or 
 sent him over the precipice. His voice alone enabled me to 
 recognize in this furious rider my kinsman Jubal. But never 
 had a few months so altered a human being. Instead of the 
 bold and martial figure of the chieftain, I saw an emaciated 
 and exhausted man, apparently in the last stage of life or sor- 
 
 aei 
 
tTarcs tibou n:ui f Come 
 
 Cbe dhanae (n row ; the florid cteek was of the color of clay ; the flashing 
 eye was sunken ; the loud and cheerful voice was sepulchral. 
 I welcomed him with the natural regard of our relationship, 
 but his perturbation was fearful ; he trembled, grew fiery red, 
 and could return my greeting only with a feeble tongue and a 
 wild eye. 
 
 Howerer, this was no time for private feelings. I inquired 
 the state of things ia Jerusalem. Here his embarrassment 
 was thrown aside and the natural energy of the man found 
 room. 
 
 "Jerusalem has three curses at this hour," said he fiercely, 
 " the priests, the people, and the E,omans, and the last is the 
 lightest of the three ; — the priests bloated with indulgence and 
 mad with love of the world ; the people pampered with faction 
 and mad with bigotry ; and the Eomans availing themselves 
 of the madness of each to crush aJl. " 
 
 "But has the assault been actually made, or is there force 
 enough within to repel it? " interrupted I. 
 
 "The assault has been made, and the enemy has driven 
 everything before it, so far as has been its pleasure. Why 
 it has not pushed on is iaconceivable, for our regular troops 
 are good for nothing. I have now been sent out to raise the 
 vUlages, but my labor will be useless, for see — the eagles are 
 already on the wall," 
 
 I looked ; on the northern quarter of the battlements I saw, 
 through smoke and flame, the accursed standard. Below 
 rose immense bursts of conflagration ; the whole of the new 
 city, the Bezetha, was on fire. My plan was instantly formed. 
 I divided my force into two bodies ; gave one to Constantius, 
 with orders to enter the city and drive the Eomans from the 
 walls ; and with the other threaded the ravines toward a posi- 
 tion on the hills. I had to make a long circuit. The Roman 
 camp was pitched on the ridge of Mount Scopas, seven fur- 
 longs from the city. Guided by Jubal, I gained its rear. My 
 troops, stimulated by the sight of the fugitive people, required 
 all my efforts to keep them from rushing on the detachments, 
 which we saw successively hurrying to reenforce the assault. 
 
 Night fell, but the signal for my attack, a fixed number of 
 
 263 
 
"nevet Sbalt XTbou Bntet Jerusalem' 
 
 torches on the tower of the Temple, did not appear. Our Hnotber 
 troops, ambushed in the olive-groves skirting the ridge, had ®"'"** 
 hitherto escaped discovery. At length they grew furious and 
 bore me along with them. As we burst up the rugged sides 
 of the hill, like a huge surge before the tempest, I cast a de- 
 spairing glance to vard the city ; the torches at that moment 
 rose. Hope lived again. The sight added wings to our speed, 
 and before the enemy could recover from its astonishment, 
 we were in the center of the camp. Nothing could be more 
 complete than our success. The legionaries, sure of the morn- 
 ing's march into Jerusalem and the plunder of the Temple, 
 were caught leaning in crowds over the ramparts, unarmed, 
 and making absolute holiday. Caius Cestius," their insolent 
 general, was carousing in his tent after the fatigues of the 
 evening. The tribunes followed his example; the soldiery 
 saw nothing to require their superior abstemiousness, and the 
 wine was flowing freely in healths to the next day's rapine, 
 when our roar opened their eyes. To resist was out of the 
 question. Fifty thousand spearmen, as daring as ever lifted 
 weapon, and inflamed with the feelings of their harassed coun- 
 try, were in their midst, and they fled in all directions. I 
 pressed onto the general's tent, but the prize had escaped; 
 he had fled at the first alarm. My followers indignantly set 
 his quarters on fire; the blaze spread, and the flame of the 
 Roman camp rolled up like the flame of a sacrifice to the god 
 of battles. 
 
 The seizure of this position was the ruin of the cohorts, 
 abandoned between the hill and the city. At the sight of the 
 flames the gates were flung open, and Constantius drove the 
 assailants from point to point until our shouts told him that 
 we were marching upon their rear. The shock then was final. 
 The Romans, dispirited and surprised, broke like water, and 
 scarcely a man of them lived to boast of having insulted the 
 walls of Jerusalem. 
 
 Day arose and the Temple met the rising beam, unstained 
 by the smoke of an enemy's fire. The wreck of the legions 
 lay upon the declivities, like the fragments of a fleet on the 
 shore. But this sight, painful even to an enemy, was soon 
 
 263 
 
Znvvs V^bon Qlill IF Come 
 
 H Boice forgotten in the concourse of the rescued citizens, the exulta- 
 tion of the troops, and the still more seducing vanities that 
 filled the heart of their chieftain. 
 
 Toward noon, a long train of the principal people, headed 
 y the priests and elders, was seen issuing from the gates to 
 congratulate me. Choral music and triumphant shouts an- 
 nounced their approach through the valley. My heart bounded 
 with the feelings of a conqueror. The whole long vista of 
 national honors, the popular praise, the personal dignity, the 
 power of trampling upon the malignant, the clearance of my 
 character, the right to take the future lead on all occasions of 
 public service and princely renown, opened before my eye. 
 
 I was standing alone upon the brow of the promontory. As 
 far as the eye could reach all was in motion, and all was di- 
 rected to me ; the homage of soldiery, priests, and people cen- 
 tered in my single being. I involuntarily uttered aloud : 
 
 "At last I shall enter Jerusalem in triumph." 
 
 I heard a voice at my side : 
 
 " Never shalt thou enter Jerusalem but in sorrow ! " 
 
 An indescribable pang smote me. There was not a living 
 soul near me to have uttered the words. The troops were 
 standing at a distance below and in perfect silence. The 
 words were spoken close to my ear. But I fatally knew the 
 voice, and conjecture was at an end. My limbs felt power- 
 less, as if I had been struck by lightning. I called Jubal up 
 the peak to assist me. But the blow that smote my frame 
 seemed to have smote his mind. His eyes rolled wildly ; his 
 speech was the language of a fierce disturbance of thought, 
 altogether unintelligible. A lunatic stood before me. 
 
 Was this to be the foretaste of my own afflictions? Was I 
 to see my kindred and friends put under the yoke of bodily 
 and mental misery as a menace of the punishment that was 
 to cut asunder my connection with human nature? 
 
 264 
 
CHAPTER XXXm 
 
 JahaTs Warning 
 
 In pain and terror I drew my unfortunate kinsman from Saiatwci 
 the gaze of the troops, and entreated him to tell me by what s-cruaaiem 
 melancholy chance his feelings had been thus disturbed. He 
 looked at me with a fierce glance, and half unsheathed his 
 dagger. But I was not to be repelled, and still labored to 
 soothe him. He hurriedly grasped the weapon, flung it down 
 the steep, and sinking at my feet, burst into tears. 
 
 An uproar in the valley roused me from the contemplation 
 of this wreck of youth and hope. The enemy, tho defeated, 
 had suffered little comparative loss. The pride of the legions 
 could not brook the idea of defeat by what they deemed the 
 rabble of the city and the fields. Cestius, under cover of the 
 broken country on our flanks, had rallied the fugitives of 
 the camp, and now, between me and the city, were rapidly 
 advancing in columns, forty thousand men. 
 
 The maneuver was bold. It might force us either to fight 
 at a ruinous disadvantage, or to leave the city totally exposed. 
 But, like all bold games, it was perilous, and I determined to 
 make the Roman feel that he had an antagonist who would 
 not leave the game at his discretion. 
 
 From the pinnacle on which I stood, the whole champaign 
 lay beneath me. Nothing could be lovelier. The grandest 
 combinations of art and nature were before the eye — Jerusa- 
 lem on her hills, a city of palaces, and in that hour display- 
 ing her full pomp ; her towers streaming with banners ; her 
 battlements crowded with troops ; her priesthood and citizens 
 in their festal habits pouring from the gates and covering 
 the plain with the pageant ; that plain itself colored with the 
 richest produce of the earth ; groves of the olive ; declivities, 
 purple with the vine or yellow with corn, gleaming in the 
 sun, sheets of vegetable gold. 
 
 265 
 
G^arrs XTbou JEfll IT Come 
 
 Saiatbfei The signals of my advance parties along the heights soon 
 to subal told me that the enemy were in movement. My plan was 
 speedily adopted. On the right spread the plain ; on the left 
 lay the broken and hilly country through which the enemy 
 were advancing by its three principal ravines. I felt that, if 
 they could unite, success with our undisciplined levies was 
 desperate. The only hope was that of beating the columns 
 separately as they emerged into the plain. Cavalry had now 
 begun to ride down upon the processions, which, startled at 
 the sight, were instantly scattered and flying toward Jeru- 
 salem. 
 
 "The day of congratulation is clearly over," said Jubal, 
 pointing in scorn to the dispersed citizens. " To-day, at least, 
 you will not receive the homage of those hypocrites of the 
 Sauhedrin." 
 
 " Nor perhaps to-morrow, fellow soldier, for we must first 
 see of what material those columns are made. If we beat 
 them, we shall save the elders the trouble of crossing the 
 plain, and receive their honors within the walls." 
 
 " In Jerusalem ! " exclaimed he wildly ; " no, never ! You 
 have dangers to encounter within those walls that no art of 
 man could withstand ; dangers keener than the dagger, more 
 deadly than the aspic, more resistless than the force of armies ! 
 Enter Jerusalem and you are xmdone." 
 
 I looked upon him with astonishment. But there was in 
 his eyes a sad humility ; a strangely imploring glance, which 
 formed the most singular contrast to the wildness of his words. 
 
 "Be warned! " said he, pressing close, as if he dreaded that 
 his secret should be overheard ; " I have seen and heard horrid 
 things since I last entered the city. Beware of the leaders of 
 Jerusalem ! I tell you that they have fearful power, that their 
 hate is inexorable, and that you are their great object! " 
 
 "This is altogether beyond my conception; how have I 
 offended, and whom? " I asked. 
 
 He seemed to have recovered the tone of his mind. " You 
 are charged with unutterable acts. Your abandonment of the 
 priesthood; sights seen in your deserted chambers, which not 
 even the most daring would venture to inhabit; your escape 
 
 266 
 
Jubal's TRUatning 
 
 from dangers that must liave extinguished any other human jfaise 
 beiag, have bred fatal rumors. It has been said that you *""™"''"' 
 worshiped in the bowels of the mountain of Masada, where 
 the magic fire burns eternally before the image of the Evil 
 One ; nay, that you even conquered the fortress, impregnable 
 as it was to man, by a horrid compact, and that the raising of 
 your standard was the declared sign of that compact, dread- 
 fully to be repaid by you and yours ! " 
 
 "Monstrous and incredible calumny! Where was their 
 evidence? My action^ were before the face of the world! " 
 
 "If your virtues were written in a sunbeam, envy would 
 darken and hatred destroy," exclaimed my kinsman, with the 
 bold countenance and manly feeling of his better days. 
 " They have in their secret councils stained you with a fate 
 more gloomy than I can comprehend ; they say that you are sen- 
 tenced, even here, to the miseries of guilt beyond the grave." 
 
 I felt as if he had stricken a lance through my heart. Fiery 
 sparkles shot before my eyes. I instinctively put my hand 
 to my brow, to feel if the mark of Caia was not already there. 
 I gave one hurried glance at heaven, as if to see the form of 
 the destroying angel stooping over me. But the conscious- 
 ness that I was in the presence of the multitude compelled me 
 to master my feelLags. I commanded Jubal to be ready with 
 his proofs of those calumnies against the time when I should 
 confound my accusers. But I now spoke to the winds. The 
 interval of reason was gone. He burst out into the fiercest 
 horrors. 
 
 "They pursue me!" exclaimed he; "they come by thou- 
 sands, with the poniard and the poison ! They cry for blood ! 
 They would drive me to a crime black as their own ! " 
 
 He flung himself at my feet, and, clasping them, prevented 
 every effort to save him from this degradation. He buried 
 his face in my robe, and, casting up a scared look from time 
 to time, as if he shrank from some object of terror, apostro- 
 phized his vision. 
 
 "Fearful being," he cried, "spare me! turn away those 
 searching eyes! I have sworn to do the deed, and it shall be 
 done. I have sworn it, against the ties of nature, against the 
 
 267 
 
Quarts ;rbou XIUI V Gome 
 
 saiatbiei laws of Heaven ; but it shall be done. Now, begone ! See ! " — 
 
 : B[m3 3uti8i 
 
 he cowered, pointing to a cloud that floated across the sun- 
 " see ! he spreads his wings ; he hovers over me ; the thunders 
 are flaming in his hands. Begone, Spirit of Evil ! It shall be 
 done ! Look, where he vanishes into the heights of his king- 
 dom! the prince of the power of the air." 
 
 The cloud which fed the fancy of my unfortunate kinsman 
 dissolved, and with it his fear of the tempter. But he lay 
 exhausted at my feet, his eyes closed, his limbs shuddering — 
 the emblem of weakness and despair. I tried to rouse him 
 by that topic which would once have shot new life into his 
 heroic heart. 
 
 " Eise, Jubal, and see the enemy. This battle must not be 
 fought without you. To-day neither magic nor chance shall 
 be imputed to the conqueror, if I shall conquer. Jerusalem 
 sees the battle, and before the face of my country I will show 
 myself the leader, or will leave the last drop of my blood 
 upon those fields." 
 
 The warrior kindled within him. He sprang from the 
 ground and shot down an eagle glance at the ehemy, who 
 had now made rapid progress, and were beginning to show the 
 heads of their columns in the plain. He was unarmed. I gave 
 bim my sword, and the proud humility with which he put it 
 to his lips was a pledge to me that it would be honored in 
 his hands. 
 
 " Glorious thing! " he exclaimed, as he flashed it before the 
 sun, " that raises man at once to the height of human honors, 
 or sends him where no care can disturb his rest; the true 
 scepter that graces empire ; the true talisman, more powerful 
 than all the arts of the enchanter ! What, like thee, can lift 
 up the lowly, enrich the destitute, and even restore the un- 
 done? What talent, knowledge, gift of nature, nay, what 
 smile of fortune can, like thee, in one hour, bid the obscure 
 stand forth the hero of a people or the wonder of a world? 
 Now for glory ! " he shouted to the listening circle of the 
 troops, who answered him with shouts. 
 
 "Now for glory! " they cried, and poured after him down 
 the side of the mountain. 
 
I* 
 
 CM 
 
 J3 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
Jubal's Tiniatnlng 
 
 The three gorges of the valleys through which the enemy Ube 
 
 moved, opened into the plain at wide intervals from one an- 
 other. I saw that the eagerness of Cestius to reach the open 
 ground was already hurrying his columns ; and that, from 
 the comparative facilities of the ravine immediately under my 
 position, the nearest column must arrive unsupported. The 
 moment came. The helmets and spears were already pouring 
 from the. pass, when a gesture from me let loose the whole 
 human torrent upon them. Our advantage of the ground, our 
 numbers, and still more, our brave impetuosity, decided the 
 fate of this division at once. The legionaries were not merely 
 repulsed, they were absolutely trampled down; there they 
 lay, as if a mighty wall or a fragment of the mountain had 
 fallen upon them. 
 
 The two remaining columns were still to be fought. The 
 compact and broad mass of iron that rushed down the ravines 
 seemed irresistible, and when I cast a glance on the irregular 
 and waving lines behind me I felt the whole peril of the day. 
 Yet I feared idly. The enemy charged and forced their way 
 into the very center of the multitude like two vast wedges, 
 crushing all before them. But, tho they could repel, they 
 could not conquer. The spirit of the Jew fighting before 
 Jerusalem was more than heroism. To extinguish a Eoman, 
 tho at the instant loss of life ; to disable a single spear, tho 
 by receiving it in his bosom ; to encumber with his corpse 
 the steps of the adversary, was reward enough for the man of 
 Israel. 
 
 I saw crowds of those bold peasants fling themselves on 
 the ground, creep in between the feet of the legionaries, and 
 die stabbing them ; others casting away the lance to seize the 
 Eoman bucklers and encumber them with the strong grasp of 
 death; crowds mounting the rising grounds, to leap down 
 upon the spears. The enemy, overborne with the weight of 
 the multitude, at length found it impossible to move farther ; 
 yet their strength was not to be broken. Wherever we 
 turned there was the same solid wall of shields, the same 
 thick fence of leveled lances. We might as well have as- 
 saulted a rock. Our arrows rebounded from their impenetra- 
 
 I9n8[au3bt 
 
HartB Q:bou TTill "ff Come 
 
 <ton6taiitius ble armor ; the stones that poured on them from innumerable 
 ^"'''* slings rolled off like the hail of a summer shower from a 
 roof. But to have stopped the columns and prevented their 
 junction was in itself a triumph. I felt that we had scarcely 
 '.o do more than fix them where they stood, and leave the 
 intense heat of the day, thirst, and weariness to fight our 
 battle. But my troops were not to be restrained. They still 
 rolled in furious heaps against the living fortification. Every 
 broken lance in that impenetrable barrier, every pierced hel- 
 met, was a trophy ; the fall of a single legionary roused a shout 
 of exultation and was the signal for a new charge. 
 
 But the battle was no longer to be left to our unassisted 
 efforts ; the troops in Jerusalem moved down with Constantius 
 at their head. In the perpetual roar of the conflict, their 
 shouts had escaped my ear, and my first intelligence of their 
 advance was from Jubal, who had well redeemed his pledge 
 during the day. Hurrying with him to one of the eminences 
 that overlooked the field, I saw with pride and delight the 
 standard of Naphtali spreading its red folds at the head of 
 the advanciag multitude. 
 
 " Who commands them? " asked Jubal eagerly. 
 
 "Who should command them, with that banner at their 
 head," replied I, "but my son, my brave Constantius?" 
 
 He heard no more, but, bending his turban to the saddle- 
 bow, struck the spur into his horse, and with a cry of mad- 
 ness plunged into the center of the nearest column. The 
 stroke came upon it like a thunderbolt ; the phalanx wavered 
 for the first time ; an opening was made into its ranks. The 
 chasm was filled up by a charge of my hunters. To save or 
 die with Jubal was the impulse ! That charge was never re- 
 covered ; the column loosened, the multitude pressed in upon 
 it, and Constantius arrived, only in time to see the remnant 
 of the Eoman army flying to the disastrous shelter of the hills. 
 
 The day was won — I was a conqueror! The invincible 
 legions were invincible no more. I had conquered under the 
 gaze of Jerusalem ! Where was the enmity that would dare 
 to murmur against me now ? What calumny would not be 
 crushed by the force of national gratitude ? A flood of ab- 
 
 270 
 
Jubal'B Macntng 
 
 sorbing sensations filled my soul. No eloquence of man could saiatbCei tbe 
 express the glowing and superb consciousness tbat swelled 
 my heart, in the moment when I saw the Eomans shake, and 
 heard the shouts of my army proclaiming me victor. After 
 that day, I can forgive the boldest extravagance of the boldest 
 passion for war. That passion may not be cruelty, nor the 
 thirst of possession, nor the longiug for supremacy ; but some- 
 thing made up of them all, and yet superior to all — the essen- 
 tial spirit of the stirring motives of the human mind — ambi- 
 tion, kindled by the loftiest objects and ennobled by them — a 
 game where the stake is an endless inheritance of renown, 
 a sudden lifting of the man into the rank of those on whose 
 names time can make no impression — immortals, without 
 undergoing the penalty of the grave ! 
 
 371 
 
CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 The Pursttit of an Enemy 
 
 TOseSictt) ot I DETERMINED to give the enemy no respite, and ordered 
 the ravines to be attacked by fresh troops. While they were 
 advancing, I galloped in search of Jubal over the ground of 
 the last charge. He was not to be seen among the living or 
 the dead. 
 
 The look of the field, when the first glow of battle had passed, 
 was enough to shake a sterner spirit than mine. Our advance 
 to the gorges of the mountain had left the plain naked. The 
 sea of turbans and lances was gone, rolling, like the swell of 
 an angry ocean, against the foot of the hills. All before us 
 was the clifi or the rocky pass, thronged with helmets and 
 spears. But all behind was death or misery worse than death ; 
 hundreds and thousands groaning in agony, crying out for 
 water to cool their burning lips, or imploring the sword to put 
 them out of pain. The legionaries lay in their ranks as they 
 had fought; solid piles of men, horses, and arms, the true 
 monuments of soldiership. The veterans of Kome had sus- 
 tained the honors of her name. 
 
 I turned from this sight toward the rescued city. The sun 
 was resting on its towers ; the smoke of the evening sacrifice 
 was ascending in slow wreaths from the altar of the sanctuary. 
 The trumpets and voices of the minstrels poured a stream of 
 harmony on the cool air. The recollection of gentler times 
 came upon my heart. Through what scenes of anxious feel- 
 ing had I not passed since those gates closed upon me. The 
 contrast between the holy calm of my early days and the 
 fierce struggles of my doomed existence pressed with bitter 
 force. My spirit shook. The warrior enthusiasm was chilled. 
 
 The trampling of horses roused me from this unwarlike rev- 
 erie. Constantius came up, glowing to communicate the in- 
 
tTbe iputsuit of an Bnems 
 
 telligence that the last of the enemy had been driven in, and saiatbiei tbe 
 
 that his troops only awaited my orders to force the passes. I 
 mounted, heard their shouts, and was again the soldier. 
 
 But the iron front of the enemy resisted our boldest attempts 
 to force the ravines, — the hills were not to be turned, and we 
 were compelled, after innumerable efforts, to wait for the 
 movement of the Eomans from a spot which thirst and hunger 
 must soon make untenable. This day had stripped them of 
 their baggage, their beasts of burden, and their military engines. 
 
 At dawn the pursuit began again. We still found the 
 enemy struggling to escape out of those fatal defiles. The 
 day w&a worn away in perpetual attempts to break the ranks 
 of the legionaries. The Jew, light, agile, and with nothing 
 to carry but his spear, was a tremendous antagonist to the 
 Eoman, perplexed among rocks and torrents, famishing, and 
 encumbered with an oppressive weight of armor. The losses 
 of this day were dreadful. Our darts commanded their march 
 from the heights; every stone did execution among ranks 
 whose armor was now scattered by the perpetual discharge. 
 Still they toiled on, unbroken. We saw their long line labor- 
 ing with patient discipline through the rugged depth below, 
 and in the face of our attacks they made way till night again 
 covered them. 
 
 I spent that night on horseback. Fatigue I never felt in 
 the strong excitement of the time. I saw multitudes sink at 
 my horse's feet, in sleep as insensible as the rock on which 
 they lay. Sleep never touched my eyelids. I galloped from 
 post to post, brought reenf orcements to my wearied ranks, and 
 longed for morn. 
 
 It came at last. The enemy had reached the head of the 
 defile, but there a force was poured upon them that nothing 
 could resist. Their remaining cavalry were driven into the 
 torrent; the few light troops that scaled the higher grounds 
 were swept down. I looked upon their whole army as in my 
 hands, and was riding forward with Constantius and my chief 
 officers to receive their surrender, when they were saved by 
 one of those instances of devotedness that distinguished the 
 Roman character, 
 
 18 373 
 
 SolMec 
 
Z&tvs ^bou ZlU. t dome 
 
 "Zbe jfUgbt Wearied of pursuit and evasion, I had rejoiced to see at 
 iRomans last Symptoms of a determination to wait for us and try tlie 
 chance of battle. An abrupt ridge of rock, surmounted 
 by a lofty cone, was the enemy's position, long after famous 
 in Jewish annals. A line of spearmen was drawn up on the 
 ridge, and the broken summit of the cone, a space of a few 
 hundred yards, was occupied by a cohort. Italian dexterity 
 was employed to give the idea that Cestius had taken his stand 
 upon this central spot ; an eagle and a concourse of oflB.cers 
 were exhibited, and upon this spot I directed the principal 
 attack to be made. 
 
 But the cool bravery of its defenders was not to be shaken. 
 After a long waste of time in efforts to scale the rock, indig- 
 nant at seeing victory retarded by such an obstacle, I left the 
 business to the slingers and archers, and ordered a steady 
 discharge to be kept up on the cohort. This was decisive. 
 Every stone and arrow told upon the little force crowded to- 
 gether on the naked height. Shield and helmet sank one by 
 one under the mere weight of missiles. Their circle rapidly 
 diminished, and, refusing to surrender, they perished to a 
 man. 
 
 "When we took possession the army was gone. The resist- 
 ance of the cohort had given the Romans time to escape, and 
 Cestius sheltered his degraded laurels behind the ramparts 
 of Bethhoron, by the sacrifice of four hundred heroes. 
 
 This battle, which commenced on the eighth day of the 
 month Marchesvan, had no equal in the war. The loss to the 
 Romans was unparalleled since the d'"pat of Crassus. Two 
 legions were destroyed ; six thousand uodies were left on the 
 field. The whole preparation for the siege of Jerusalem fell 
 into our hands. Then was the hour to have struck the final 
 blow for freedom ; then was given that chance of restoration 
 which Providence gives to every nation and every man. But 
 our crimes, our wild feuds, the bigoted fury and polluted li- 
 cense of our factions, rose up as a cloud between us and the 
 light; we were made to be ruined. 
 
 Such were not my reflections when I saw the gates of Beth- 
 horon closing on the f agitives ; I vowed never to rest until I 
 
 274 
 
Zbe putsuit ot an jBnem's 
 
 brought prisoners to Jerusalem the last of the sacrilegious host Saiatwei's 
 
 that had dared to assault the Temple. 
 
 The walls of Bethhoron, manned only with the wreck of the 
 troops that we had routed from all their positions, could offer 
 no impediment to hands and hearts like ours. I ordered an 
 immediate assault. The resistance was desperate, for beyond 
 this city there was no place of refuge nearer than Antipatris. 
 We were twice repulsed, and I headed the third attack myself. 
 The dead filled up the ditch, and I had already arrived at the 
 foot of the rampart, with the scaling-ladder in my hand, when 
 I heard Jubal's voice behind me. He was leaping and danc- 
 ing in the attitudes of utter madness. But there was no time 
 to be lost. I sprang upon the battlements, tore a standard 
 from its bearer, and waved it over my head with a shout of 
 victory. The plain, the hills, the valleys, covered with the 
 host rushing to the assault, echoed the cry; I was at the 
 summit of fortune ! 
 
 In the next moment I felt a sudden shock. Darkness cot- 
 ered my eyes, and I plunged headlong. 
 
 I awoke in a dungeon. 
 
 jFaii 
 
 878 
 
CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 The Lapse of Years 
 
 In a In that dungeon I lay for two years ! " How I lived, or how 
 
 Dungeon j ^^^.^ existence, I can now have no conception. I was not 
 mad, nor altogether insensible to things about me, nor even 
 without occasional incUnation for the common objects of our 
 being. I used to look for the glimmer of daylight that was 
 suffered to enter my cell. The reflection of the moon in a 
 pool, of which, by climbing to the loophole, I could gain a 
 glimpse, was waited for with some feeble feeling of pleasure, 
 but my animal appetites were more fully alive than ever. An 
 hour's delay of the miserable provision that was thrown 
 through my bars made me wretched. I devoured it like a 
 wild beast, and then longed through the dreary hours for its 
 coming again ! 
 
 I made no attempt to escape. I dragged myself once to 
 the entrance of the dungeon, found it secured by an iron door, 
 and never tried it again. If every bar had been broken, I 
 scarcely know whether I should have attempted to pass it. 
 Even ui my more reasoning hours, I felt no desire to move. 
 Destiny was upon me. My doom was marked in characters 
 which nothing but blindness could fail to read ; and to strug- 
 gle with fate, what was it but to prepare for new misfortune? 
 
 The memory of my wife and children sometimes broke 
 through the icy apathy with which I labored to encrust my 
 mind. Tears flowed ; nature stung my heart ; I groaned, and 
 made the vault ring with the cries of the exile from earth and 
 heaven. But this passed away, and I was again the self- 
 divorced man, without a tie to bind him to transitory things. 
 I heard the thunder and the winds ; the lightnings sometimes 
 startled me from my savage sleep. But what were they to 
 me ! I was dreadfully secure from the fiercest rage of nature. 
 
 378 
 
Ube Xapse ot IQeats 
 
 There were nights when I conceived that I could distinguish Ube prince 
 the roarings of the ocean, and, shuddering, seemed to hear ° n ^ee 
 the cries of drowning men. But those, too, passed away. I 
 swept remembrance from my mind, and felt a sort of vague 
 enjoyment in the effort to defy the last power of evil. Cold, 
 heat, hunger, wakiag, sleep, were the calendar of my year, 
 the only points in which I was sensible of existence ; I felt 
 like some of those torpid animals which, buried ia stones from 
 the creation, live on until the creation shall be no more. 
 
 But this sullenness was only for the waking hour ; night had 
 its old, implacable dominion over me ; full of vivid misery, 
 crowded with the bitter-sweet of memory, I wandered free 
 among those forms ia which my spirit had found matchless 
 loveliness. Then the cruel caprice of fancy would sting me; 
 in the very concord of enchanting sounds there would come a 
 funereal voice ; in the circle of the happy, I was appalled by 
 some hideous visage uttering words of mystery. A spectral 
 form would hang upon my steps and tell me that I was un- 
 done. 
 
 From one of those miserable slumbers I was roused by a 
 voice pronouncing my name. I at first confounded it with 
 the wanderings of sleep. But a chilling touch upon my fore- 
 head completely aroused me. It was night, yet my eyes, ac- 
 customed to darkness, gradually discovered the first intruder 
 who ever stood within my living grave ; nothing human could 
 look more like the dead. A breathing skeleton stood before 
 me. The skin clung to his bones ; misery was in every fea- 
 ture ; the voice was scarcely above a whisper. 
 
 "Rise," said this wretched being, "prince of Naphtali, you 
 are free; follow me." 
 
 Strange thoughts were in the words. Was this indeed the 
 universal summoner — the being whom the prosperous dread, 
 but the wretched love? Had the King of Terrors stood be- 
 fore me I could not have gazed on him with more wonder. 
 
 "Else," said the voice impatiently; "we have but an hour 
 till daybreak, and you must escape now or never." 
 
 The sound of freedom scattered my apathy. The world 
 opened upon my heart; country, friends, children were ia 
 
 277 
 
Uarrg a:bou XTill H Come 
 
 jftertom the world, and I started up with the feeling of one to whom 
 hie IS given on the scaffold. 
 
 My guide hurried forward through the winding way to the 
 door. He stopped ; I heard him utter a groan, strike fiercely 
 against the bars, and fall. I found him lying at the thresh- 
 old without speech or motion ; carried him back, and, by the 
 help of the cruse of water left to moisten my solitary meal, 
 restored him. to his senses. 
 
 "The wind," said he, "must have closed the door, and we 
 are destined to die together. So be it ; with neither of us can 
 the struggle be long. Farewell ! " 
 
 He flung himself upon his face. A noise of some heavy 
 instrument roused us both. He listened, and said : " There 
 is hope still. The slave who let me in is forcing the door." 
 We rushed to assist him, and tugged and tore at the massive 
 stones in which the hinges were fixed, but found our utmost 
 strength as ineffectual as an infant's. The slave now cried 
 out that he must give up the attempt, that day was breaking 
 and the guard was at hand. We implored him to try 
 once more. By a violent effort he drove his crowbar through 
 one of the panels ; the gleam of light gave us courage, and 
 with our united strength we heaved at the joints, which were 
 evidently loosening. In the midst of our work the slave 
 fled, and I heard a plunge into the pool beneath. 
 
 "He has perished," said my companion. "The door is on 
 the face of a precipice. He has fallen, in the attempt to es- 
 cape, and we are now finally undone." 
 
 The guard, disturbed by the noise, arrived, and in the 
 depths of our cell we heard the day spent in making the im- 
 passable barrier firmer than ever. 
 
 For some hours my companion lay in that state of exhaus- 
 tion which I could not distinguish from uneasy slumber, and 
 which I attributed to the fatigue of our common labors. But 
 his groans became so deep that I ventured to rouse him, and 
 even to cheer him with the chances of escape. 
 
 " I have not slept," said he ; "I shall never sleep again, 
 until the grave gives me that slumber in which the wretched 
 can alone find rest. Escape ! No — for months, for years, I 
 
 378 
 
Zbe Xap0e ot Kcata 
 
 have had but one object. I have traversed mountain and sea Satatwei 
 for it; I have given to it day and night, all that I possessed ^'gXV*' 
 m the world ; I could give no more but my life, and that too 
 I was to give. I stood within sight of that object. But it is 
 snatched from me, and now the sooner I perish the better." 
 He writhed with mental pain. 
 
 " But what cause can you have for being here? You have 
 not fought our tyrants. Who are you? " 
 
 "One whom you can never know — a beiag born to honor 
 and happiness, but who perverted them by pride and re- 
 venge, and whose last miserable hope is, that he may die un- 
 known, and without the curses that fall on the traitor and the 
 murderer. Priace of Naphtali, farewell ! " 
 
 I knew the speaker in those words of wo. I cried out . 
 " Jubal, my friend, my kinsman, my hero! Is it you, then, 
 who have risked your life to save me? " 
 
 I threw myself beside him. He crept from me. I caught 
 his meager hand; I adjured him to live and hope. 
 
 He started away wildly. "Touch me not; I am unfit to 
 live. I — I have been your ruin, and yet He who knows the 
 heart, knows that I alone am not to blame. I was a dupe to 
 furious passions, the victim of evil counselors, the prey of 
 disease of mind. On my crimes may Heaven have mercy ! 
 They are beyond the forgiveness of man." 
 
 By the feeble light, which showed scarcely more than the 
 wretchedness of my dungeon, I made some little preparations 
 for the refreshment of this feverish and famished being. His 
 story agitated him, and strongly awakened as my curiosity 
 was, I forbore all question. But it lay a burden on his mmd, 
 and I suffered him to make his confession. 
 
 " I loved Salome," said he ; "but I was so secure of accept- 
 ance, according to the custom of our tribey that I never con- 
 ceived the possibility of an obstacle to our marriage. My 
 love and my pride were equally hurt. The new distinctions 
 of her husband made my envy bitterness. To change the 
 scene, I went to Jerusalem. I there found malice active. 
 Your learning and talents had made you obnoxious long be- 
 fore; your new fame and rank turned envy into hatred. 
 
 379 
 
tIarrB C^bou XEHl H Come 
 
 Subal'g Onias, whose dagger you turned from the bosom of the noble 
 
 : E^Uination 
 
 Eleazar, remembered his disgrace. He headed the conspiracy 
 against you, and nothing but the heroic vigor with which you 
 stirred up the nation could have saved you long since from 
 the last extremities of faction. My imhappy state of mind 
 threw me into his hands. I was inflamed against you by per- 
 petual calumnies. It was even proposed that I should accuse 
 you before the Sanhedrin of dealing with the powers of dark- 
 ness. Proofs were offered which my bewildered reason 
 could scarcely resist. I was assailed with subtle argument ; 
 stimulated by sights and scenes of strange import, horrid and 
 mysterious displays, which implicate the leaders of Jerusalem 
 deeply in the crime of the idolaters. Spirits, or the sem- 
 blances of spirits, were raised before my eyee; voices were 
 heard in the depths and in the air, denouncing you, even you, 
 as the enemy of Judea and of man ; I was commanded, in the 
 midst of thunders, real or feigned, to destroy you." 
 
 Here his voice sank, his frame quivered ; and wrapping his 
 head in his cloak, he remained long silent. To relieve him 
 from his confession, I asked for intelligence of my family and 
 of the country. 
 
 " Of your f amUy I can tell you nothing," said he mourn- 
 fully ; " I shrank from the very mention of their name. Dur- 
 ing these two years I had but one pursuit — the discovery of 
 your prison. I refused to hear, to think, of other things. I 
 felt that I was dying, and I dreaded to appear before the 
 great tribunal with the groans from your dungeon rising up 
 to stifle my prayers." 
 
 " But is our country stUl torn by the Eoman wolves? " 
 
 " The whole land is in tumult." Blood and horror are under 
 every roof from Lebanon to Idumea. The Eoman sword is 
 out, and it falls with cruel havoc; but the Jewish dagger 
 pays it home, and the legions quail before the naked valor of 
 the peasantry. Yet what is valor or patriotism to us now? 
 We are in our grave ! " 
 
 The thought of my family exposed to the miseries of a 
 ferocious war only kindled my eagerness to escape from this 
 den of oblivion. It was evening, and the melancholy moon 
 
 2Sf) 
 
Zbc %npee of l^ears 
 
 threw the old feeble gleam on the water which had so long another 
 been to me the only mirror of her countenance. I suddenly ''^Egcaiie'' 
 observed the light darkened by a figure stealing along the 
 edge of the pool. It approached, and the words were whis- 
 pered : " It is impossible to break open the door from without 
 while the guard is on the watch ; but try whether it can not 
 be opened from within." A crowbar was pushed into the 
 loophole; its bearer, the slave, who had escaped by swim- 
 ming, jumped down and was gone. 
 
 I left Jubal where he lay, lingered at the door till all ex- 
 ternal sounds ceased, and then made my desperate attempt. 
 I was wasted by confinement, but the mind is force. I 
 labored with furious effort at the mass of bolt and bar, and 
 at length felt it begin to give way. I saw a star, the first for 
 two long years, twinkling through the fracture. Another 
 hour's labor unfixed the huge hinge, and I felt the night air, 
 cool and fragrant, on my cheek. I now grasped the last bar, 
 and was in the act of forcing it from the wall when the 
 thought of Jubal struck me. There was a struggle of a mo- 
 ment in my mind. To linger now might be to give the guard 
 time to intercept me. I was hungering for liberty. It was 
 to me at that moment what water in the desert is to the dying 
 caravan — the sole assuaging of a frantic thirst, of a fiery and 
 consuming fever of the soul. If the grains of dust under 
 my feet were diamonds, I would have given them to feel my- 
 self treading the dewy grass that lay waving on the hillside 
 before me. 
 
 A tall shadow passed along. It was that of a mountain 
 shepherd, spear in hand, guarding his flock from the wolves. 
 He stopped at a short distance from the dungeon, and, gaz- 
 ing on the moon, broke out with a rude but sweet voice into 
 song. The melody was wild, a lamentation over the fallen 
 glories of Judea, " whose sun was set, and whose remaining 
 light, sad and holy as the beauty of the moon, must soon 
 decay." The word freedom mingled in the song, and every 
 note of that solemn strain vibrated to my heart. The shep- 
 herd passed along. 
 
 I tore down the bar and gazed upon the glorious face of 
 
 SSI 
 
tratcs TTbou zm f Come 
 
 Ube heaven. My feet were upon the free ground! I returned 
 tbe (Buart hastily to the cell and told Jubal the glad tidings, hut he 
 heard me not. To abandon him there was to give him. up to 
 inevitable death, either by the swords of the guard or by the 
 less merciful infliction of famine. I carried him on my 
 shoulders to the entrance. A roar of ridicule broke on me at 
 the threshold. The guard stood drawn up in front of the 
 dilapidated door ; and the sight of the prisoner entrapped in 
 the very crisis of escape was the true food for lufBan mirth. 
 Staggering under my burden, I yet burst forward, but was 
 received in a circle of leveled spears. Resistance was now 
 desperate ; yet even when sunk upon the ground under my 
 burden, I attempted to resist or gather their points in my 
 bosom and perish. But my feeble efforts only raised new 
 scoffing. I was unworthy of Roman steel, and the guard, 
 after amusing themselves with my impotent rage, dragged me 
 within the passage, placed Jubal, who neither spoke nor 
 moved, beside me, blocked up the door, and wished me 
 "better success the next time." 
 
 I spent the remainder of that night in fierce agitation. The 
 apathy, the protecting scorn of external things, that I had nur- 
 tured, as other men would nurture happiness, was gone. The 
 glimpse of the sky haunted me ; a hundred times in the night 
 I thought that I was treading on the grass ; that I felt its 
 refreshing moisture ; that the air was breathing balm on my 
 cheek; that the shepherd's song was still echoing in my ears, 
 and that I saw him pointing to a new way of escape from my 
 inextricable dungeon. 
 
 In one of those half-dreams I flung the crowbar from my 
 hand. A sound followed, like the fall of stones into water. 
 The sound continued. Still stranger echoes followed, which 
 my bewildered fancy turned into all similitudes of earth and 
 ocean — the march of troops, the distant roar of thunder, the 
 dashing of billows, the clamor of battle, boisterous mirth, 
 and the groaning and heaving of masts and rigging in storm. 
 The dungeon was as dark as death, and I felt my way 
 toward the sound. To my surprise, the accidental blow of 
 the bar had loosened a part of the wall and made an orifice 
 
Zbe Xapse of ideate 
 
 large enough to admit the human body. The pale light of Cbc 
 morning showed a cavern beyond, narrow and rugged. It ^ '^'" 
 branched into a variety of passages, some of them fit for 
 nothing but the fox's burrow. I returned to the lair of my 
 unhappy companion, and prevailed on him to follow only by 
 the declaration that if he refused I must perish by his side. 
 My scanty provisions were gathered up. I led the way, and, 
 determined never to return to the place of my misery, we set 
 forward to tempt in utter darkness the last chances of famine 
 — pilgrims of the tomb. 
 
 We wandered through a fearful labyrinth for a period which 
 utterly exhausted us. Of night and day we had no knowledge. 
 I was sinking, when a low groan struck my ear, I listened 
 pantingly ; it came again. It was evidently from some object 
 close beside me. I put forth my hand and pushed in the 
 door of a large cavern ; a flash of light illumined the passage. 
 Another step would have plunged us into a pool a titiousand 
 feet below 
 
 ,^8 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 Death in a. Cavern 
 
 Bit ®cean The cavem thus opened to us " seemed to be the magazine 
 of some place of trade. It was crowded with chests and 
 bales, heaped together in disorder. What dangerous owners 
 we might meet cost us no question ; life and liberty were be- 
 fore us. I cheered Jubal till his scattered senses returned, 
 and he clasped my feet in humiliation and gratitude. 
 
 We were now like men created anew. We forced our way 
 through piles that but an hour before would have been moun- 
 tains to our despairing strength. The cavern opened into an- 
 other, which seemed the dwelling of some master of extraordi- 
 nary opulence. Silken tissues hung on the walls ; the ceiling 
 was a Tyrian canopy ; precious vases stood on tables of citron 
 and ivory. A large lyre, superbly ornamented, was suspended 
 in an opening of the rock, and gave its melancholy music to 
 the wind. But no human being was to be seen. Was this 
 one of the true wonders that men classed among the fictions 
 of Greece and Asia? The Nereids with their queen could not 
 have sought a more secluded palace. Onward we heard the 
 sounds of ocean. We followed them, and saw one of those 
 scenes of grandeur which nature creates, as if to show the lit- 
 tleness of man. 
 
 An arch three times the height of the loftiest temple, and 
 ribbed with marble, rose broadly over our heads. Innumer- 
 able shafts of the purest alabaster, rounded with the perfec- 
 tion of sculpture, rose in groups and clusters to the solemn 
 roof ; wildflowers and climbing plants of every scent and hue 
 gathered round the capitals, and hung the gigantic sides of 
 the hall with a lovelier decoration than ever was wrought in 
 loom. The awful beauty of this ocean temple bowed the 
 heart in instinctive homage. I felt the sacredness of nature. 
 
 384 
 
Beatb In a Cavetn 
 
 But this grandeur was alone worthy of the spectacle to which ®n tbe 
 it opened. The whole magnificence of the Mediterranean ^itvem^" 
 spread before our eyes, smooth as polished silver and now 
 reflecting the glories of the west. The sun lay on the horizon 
 in the midst of crimson clouds, like a monarch on the funeral 
 pile, sinking in the splendors of a conflagration that lighted 
 earth and ocean. 
 
 But at this noble portal we had reached our limit. The 
 sides of the cavern projected so far into the waters as to make 
 a small anchorage. Access or escape by land was palpably 
 impossible. Yet, here at least, we were masters. No claim- 
 ant presented himself to dispute our title. The provisions of 
 our unknown host were ample, and, to our eager tastes, were 
 dangerous from their luxury. The evening that we passed at 
 the mouth of the cave, exhilarated with the first sensation of 
 liberty, and enjoying every aspect and voice of the lovely 
 scene with the keenness of the most unhoped-for novelty, 
 was a full recompense for the toils and terrors of the laby- 
 rinth. 
 
 The sun went down. The surge that died at our feet mur- 
 mured peace; the wheeling sea-birds, as their long trains 
 steered homeward, pouring out from time to time a clangor 
 of wild sounds that descended to us in harmony; the little 
 white-sailed vessels, that skimmed along the distant waters 
 like summer flies; the breeze waving the ivy and arbutus, 
 that festooned our banquet-hall, alike spoke to the heart the 
 language of peace. 
 
 "If," said I, "my death-bed were to be left to my own 
 choice, on the edge of this cavern would I wish to take my 
 last farewell." 
 
 "To the dying all places must be indifferent," replied my 
 companion; "when Death is at hand, his shadow fills the 
 mind. What matters it to the exile, who in a few moments 
 must leave his country forever, on what spot of its shore his 
 last step is planted? Perhaps the lovelier that spot the 
 more painful the parting. If I must have my choice, let me 
 die in the dungeon or in battle : in the chain that makes me 
 hate the earth, or in the struggle that makes it forgotten." 
 
 ass 
 
Ti&tve Q^DOu Jim t aome 
 
 sutai's "Yet," said I, "even for battle, if we would acquit our- 
 
 selves as becomes men, is not some previous rest almost es- 
 sential? and for the sterner conflict with that mighty enemy 
 before whom our strength is vapor, is it not well to prepare 
 the whole means of mental fortitude? I would not perish in 
 the irritation of the dungeon, in the blind fury of man 
 against man, nor in the hot and giddy whirl of human cares. 
 Let me lay my sinking frame where nothing shall intrude 
 upon the nobler busiaess of the mind. But these are melan- 
 choly thoughts. Come, Jubal, fill to the speedy deliverance 
 of our country." 
 
 " Here, then, to her speedy deliverance, and the glory of 
 those who fight her battles ! " The cup was filled to the brim, 
 but just as the wine touched his lips he flung it away. " No," 
 exclaimed he, in bitterness of soul, "it is not for such as I to 
 join in the aspirations of the patriot and the soldier. Prince 
 of Naphtali, your generous nature has forgiven me, but 
 there is an accuser here" — and he struck his withered 
 hand wildly upon his bosom — "that can never be silenced. 
 Under the delusions, the infernal delusions of your enemies, 
 I followed you through a long period of your career, unseen. 
 Every act, almost every thought, was made known to me, for 
 you were surrounded by the agents of your enemies. I was 
 driven on by the belief that you were utterly accursed by our 
 law, and that to drive the dagger to your heart was to redeem 
 our cause. But the act was against my nature, and in the 
 struggle my reason failed. "When I stood before you on the 
 morning of the great battle, you saw me in one of those fits of 
 frenzy that always followed a new command to murder. The 
 misery of seeing Salome's husband once more triiunphant 
 finally plunged me into the Roman ranks to seek for death. 
 I escaped, followed the army, and reached Bethhoron in the 
 midst of the assault. Still frantic, I thought that in you I 
 saw my rival victorious. It was this hand, this parricidal 
 hand, that struck the blow." He covered his face and wept 
 convulsively. 
 
 The mystery of my captivity was now cleared up, and feel- 
 ing only pity for the ruin that remorse had made, I succeeded 
 
 286 
 
Deatb in a Cavern 
 
 at last in restoring him to some degree of calmness. I even » awnji 
 ventured to cheer him with the hope of better days, when in "" 
 
 the palace of his fathers I should acknowledge my deliverer. 
 
 With a pressure of the hand and a melancholy smile, " I 
 know," said he, "that I have not long to live. But if a 
 prayer of mine is to be answered by that greatest of all Pow- 
 ers whom I have so deeply offended, it would be, to die in 
 some act of service for my priuce and my pardoner! But 
 hark!" 
 
 A groan was uttered close to the spot where we sat. I 
 perceived for the first time an opening behind some furni- 
 ture ; entered, and saw lying on a bed a man apparently in 
 the last stage of exhaustion. 
 
 He exclaimed: "Three days of misery — three days left 
 alone, to die — without food, without help, abandoned by all. 
 But I have deserved it. Traitor and villain as I am, I have 
 deserved a thousand deaths ! " 
 
 I looked upon this outcry as but the raving of pain, and 
 brought him some wine. He swallowed it with avidity, but 
 even while I held the cup to his lips, he sank back with a cry 
 of horror. 
 
 "Aye," cried he, "I knew that I could not escape you; you 
 have come at last. Spirit, leave me to die! Or if," said he, 
 half rising and looking in my face with a steady yet dim 
 glare, " you can tell the secrets of the grave, tell me what is 
 my fate. I adjure you, fearful being, by the God of Israel ; 
 by the gods of the pagan, or if you acknowledge any god be- 
 yond the dreams of miserable man, tell me what I am to be? " 
 
 I continued silent, struck with the agony of his features. 
 Jubal entered, and the looks of the dying man were turned 
 on him. 
 
 "More of them!" he exclaimed, "more tormentors! more 
 terrible witnesses of the tortures of a wretch whom earth 
 casts out! What I demand of you is the fate of those who 
 live as I have lived— the betrayer, the plunderer, the man 
 of blood? But you will give me no answer. The time of 
 your power is not come." 
 
 He lay for a short period in mental sufferings ; then, stait- 
 
 387 
 
Zatve tibou ZEill f Come 
 
 Conscience- ing upon Hs feet by an extraordinary effort of nature, and 
 witli furious execrations at the tardiness of death, he tore off 
 the bandage which covered a wound on his forehead. The 
 blood streamed down and made him a ghastly spectacle. 
 
 " Aye," cried he, as he looked upon his stained hands, " this 
 is the true color; the traitor's blood should cover the traitor's 
 hands. Years of crime, this is your reward. The betrayal of 
 my noble master to death, the ruin of his house, the destruc- 
 tion of his name ; these were the right beginnings to the life 
 of the robber." 
 
 A peal of thunder rolled over our heads and the gush of 
 the rising waves roared through the cavern. 
 
 " Aye, there is your army," he cried, " coming in the storm. 
 I have seen your angry visages at night in the burning vil- 
 lage ; I have seen you in the shipwreck ; I have seen you in 
 the howling wilderness ; but now I see you in shapes more 
 terrible than all." 
 
 The wind bursting through the long vaults forced open the 
 door. 
 
 " Welcome, welcome to your prey ! " he yelled, and drawing 
 a knife from his sash, darted it into his bosom. The act was 
 so instantaneous that to arrest the blow was impossible. He 
 fell and died with a brief, fierce struggle. 
 
 "Horrible end," murmured Jubal, gazing on the silent 
 form ; " happier for that wretch to have perished in the hot- 
 test strife of man or nature, trampled in the charge or 
 plunged into the billows ! Save me from the misery of lonely 
 death!" 
 
 "Yet," said I, "it was our presence that made him feel. 
 He was guilty of some crime, perhaps of many, that the sight 
 of us awoke to torment his dying hour. I saw that he gazed 
 upon me with evident alarm, and not improbably my withered 
 face, and those rags of my dungeon, startled him into recol- 
 lections too strong for his decaying reason." 
 
 " Have you ever seen him before? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 I gave a reluctant look at the hideous distortion of a coun- 
 tenance still full of the final agony. I turned away in awe. 
 
Deatb in a Oavem 
 
 " Now, Jubal, to think of ourselves. Soon we shall have Ube srtfvai 
 
 fairly tried our experiment. A few days must exhaust our 
 provisions. The surges roll on the one hand ; on the other 
 we have the rock." 
 
 "But we shall die at least in pomp," said Jubal. "No 
 king of Asia will lie in a nobler vault, nor even have siacerer 
 rejoicings at his end; the crows and vultures are no hypo- 
 crites." 
 
 The dead man's turban had fallen off ia his last violence, 
 and I perceived the corner of a letter in its folds. I read it ; 
 its intelligence startled me. It was from the commandant of 
 the Roman fleet on the coast mentioning that a squadron was 
 in readiness to " attack the pirates in their cavern." 
 
 A heavy sound, as if something of immense weight had 
 rushed into the entrance of the arch, followed by many voices, 
 stopped our conversation. 
 
 " The Eomans have come," said I, " and now you will be 
 indulged with your wish — our lives are forfeited — for never 
 wiU I go back to the dungeon." 
 
 "I hear no sound but that of laughter," said Jubal, listen- 
 ing; " those invaders are the merriest of cutthroats. But be- 
 fore we give ourselves actually into their hands, let us see of 
 what they are made." 
 
 We left the chamber and returned to the recess from which 
 we had originally emerged. It commanded a view of the 
 chief avenues of the cavern ; and while I secured the door, 
 Jubal mounted the wall, and reconnoitered the enemy through 
 a fissure. 
 
 "These are no Romans," whispered he, "but a set of the 
 most jovial fellows that ever robbed on the seas. They have 
 clearly been driven in by the storm, and are now preparing to 
 feast. Their voyage has been lucky, if I am to judge by the 
 bales that they are hauling in ; and if wine can do it, they will 
 be in an hour or two drunk to the last man." 
 
 "Then we can take advantage of their sleep, let loose one 
 of their boats, and away," said I. 
 
 I mounted to see this pirate festivity. In the various vistas 
 of the huge cavern groups Oj. bold-faced and athletic men 
 
 19 289 
 
 of ptratei 
 
7atrs TTbou ^Till f Come 
 
 piunDetew 'Were gathering, all busy with the work of the time ; some pil- 
 ing fires against the walls and preparing provisions; some 
 stripping off their wet garments and bringing others out of 
 heaps of every kind and color, in the recesses of the rock ; 
 some wiping the spray from rusty helmets and corselets. 
 The vaults rang with songs, boisterous laughter, the rattling 
 of armor, and the creaking and rolling of chests of plunder. 
 The dashing of the sea under the gale filled up this animated 
 dissonance; and at intervals the thunder, bursting directly 
 above our heads, mingled with all and overpowered all. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVn 
 cA 'Pirate Band 
 
 The chamber whose costly equipment first told us of the » *'»*« Jf ewt 
 opulence of its masters was set apart for the chief rovers, 
 who were soon seated at a large table in its center, covered 
 with luxury. Flagons of wine were brought from cellars 
 known only to the initiated; fruits piled in silver baskets 
 blushed along the board ; plate of the richest workmanship, 
 the plunder of palaces, glittered in every form ; tripods loaded 
 with aromatic wood threw a blaze up to the roof ; and from 
 the central arch hung a superb Greek lamp, shooting out light 
 from a hundred mouths of serpents twined in all possible 
 ways. The party before me were about thirty" as fierce-look- 
 ing figures as ever toiled through tempest ; some splendidly 
 attired, some in the rough costume of the deck ; but all jovial, 
 and evidently determined to make the most of their time. 
 Other men had paid for the banquet, and there was probably 
 not a vase on their table that was not the purchase of personal 
 hazard. They sat, conquerors, in the midst of their own 
 trophies; and not the most self-indulgent son of opulence 
 could have luxuriated more in his wealth, nor the most ex- 
 quisite student of epicurism have discussed his luxuries with 
 more finished and fastidious science. Lounging on couches 
 covered with embroidered draperies, too costly for all but 
 princes, they lectured the cooks without mercy : the venison, 
 pheasants, sturgeon, and a multitude' of other dishes were in 
 succession pronounced utterly unfit to be touched, and the 
 wine was tasted, and often dismissed, with the caprice of 
 palates refined to the highest point of delicacy. Yet the sea 
 air was not to be trifled with, and a succession of courses 
 appeared, and were despatched with a diligence that prohib- 
 ited all language beyond the pithy phrases of delight, or dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 801 
 
Z&tvs tibou ^fll f dome 
 
 " train jnUastete The -vdne at length set the conversation flowing, and from 
 the merits of the various vintages the speakers diverged into 
 the general subjects of politics and their profession; on the 
 former of -which they visited all parties with tolerably equal 
 ridicule; and on the latter, declared unanimously that the 
 only cause worthy of a man of sense was the cause for which 
 they were assembled round that table. The next stage was 
 the more hazardous one of personal jocularity ; yet even this 
 was got over with but a few murmurs from the parties suffer- 
 ing. Songs and toasts to themselves, their loves, and their 
 enterprises in all time to come relieved the drier topics ; and 
 all was good fellowship until one unlucKy goblet of spoUed 
 wine soured the banquet. 
 
 "So, this you call Chian," exclaimed a broad-built figure, 
 whose yellow hair and blue eyes showed him to be a son of the 
 North ; " may I be poisoned," and he made a hideous grimace, 
 " if more detestable vinegar ever was brewed ; let me but meet 
 the merchant, and I shall teach him a lesson that he will re- 
 member when next he thinks of murdering men at their meals. 
 Here, baboon, take it; it is fit only for such as you." 
 
 He flung the goblet point-blank at the head of a negro, 
 who escaped it only by bounding to one side with the agility 
 of the ape that he much resembled. 
 
 " Bad news, Vladomir, for our winter's stock, for half of 
 it is Chian," said a dark-featured and brilliant-eyed Arab, 
 who sat at the head of the table. "Ho! Syphax, fill round 
 from that flagon, and let us hold a council of wax upon the 
 deHnquent wine." 
 
 The slave dexterously changed the wine; it was poured 
 round, pronounced first-rate, and the German was laughed at 
 remorselessly. 
 
 " I suppose I am not to believe my own senses," remon- 
 strated Vladomir. 
 
 "Oh! by all means, as long as you keep them," said one, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Will you tell me that I don't know the difference between 
 wine and that poison? " 
 
 " Neither you nor any man, friend Vladomir, can know much 
 
21 ^ftate Band 
 
 npon tlie subject after his second dozen of goblets," sneered » ©fsDute 
 another at the German's national propensity. 
 
 "You do him injustice," said a subtle-visaged Chiote at the 
 opposite side of the table. " He is as much in his senses this 
 moment as ever he was. There are brains of that happy con- 
 stitution which defy alike reason and wine." 
 
 "Well, I shall say no more," murmured the German sul- 
 lenly, "than confound the spot on which that wine grew, 
 wherever it lies ; the hungriest vineyard on the Ehine would 
 be ashamed to show its equal. By Woden, the very taste 
 will go with me to my grave." 
 
 "Perhaps it may," said the Chiote, irritated for the honor 
 of his country, and significantly touching his dagger. " But 
 were you ever in the island? " 
 
 " No ; nor ever shall, with my own consent, if that ilagon 
 be from it," growled the German, with his broad eye glaring 
 on his adversary. " I have seen enough of its produce, alive 
 and dead to-night." 
 
 The wind roared without, aad a tremendous thunder-peal 
 checked the angry dialog. There was a general pause. 
 
 "Come, comrades, no quarreling," cried the Arab. 
 " Heavens, how the storm comes on ! Nothing can ride out 
 to-night. Here's the captain's health, and safe home to 
 him." 
 
 The cups were filled ; but the disputants were not to be so 
 easily reconciled. 
 
 "Ho! Memnon," cried the master of the table to a sallow 
 Egyptian richly clothed, whose simitar and dagger sparkled 
 witii jewels. He was engaged in close council with the rover 
 at his side. "Layby business now; you don't like the wine 
 or the toast? " 
 
 The Egyptian, startled from his conference, professed his 
 perfect' admiration of both, and sipping, returned to his whis- 
 per. 
 
 "Memnon will not drink for fear of letting out his secrets; 
 for instance, where he found that simitar j or what has become 
 of the owner," said a young and handsome Idumean with a 
 smile. 
 
tCarts tTbou tlill f Gome 
 
 SuesnoneA 
 
 UbejSgBPttan " I should like to know by what authority you ask me ques- 
 tions on the subject. If it had been in your hands, I should 
 have never thought any necessary," retorted the scowling 
 Egyptian. 
 
 "Aye, of course not, Memnon; my way is well known. 
 Fight rather than steal; plunder rather than cheat; and, 
 after the affair is over, account to captain and crew, rather 
 than glitter in their property," was the Idumean's answer, with 
 a glow of indignation reddening his striking features. 
 
 "By the by," said the Arab, in whose eye the gems flashed 
 temptingly, " I think Memnon is always under a lucky star. 
 We come home in rags, but he regularly returns the better for 
 his trip ; Ptolemy himself has not a more exquisite tailor. All 
 depends, however, upon a man's knowledge of navigation in 
 this world." 
 
 " And friend Memnon knows every point of it but plain 
 sailing," said the contemptuous Idumean. 
 
 The Egyptian's sallow skin grew livid. " I may be coward, 
 or liar, or pilferer," exclaimed he ; " but if I were the whole 
 three, I could stand no chance of being distinguished in the 
 present company." 
 
 "Insult to the whole profession," laughingly exclaimed the 
 Arab. "And now I insist, in the general name, on your giv- 
 ing a plain account of the proceeds of your last cruise. You 
 can be at no loss for it." 
 
 "No; for he has it by his side, and in the most brilliant 
 arithmetic," said Hanno, a satirical-visaged son of Carthage. 
 
 "I must hear no more on the subject," bitterly pronounced 
 the Egyptian. "Those diamonds belong to neither captain 
 nor crew. I purchased them fairly, and the seller was, I 
 will undertake to say, the better off of the two." 
 
 "Yes; I will undertake to say," laughed the Idumean, 
 " that you left him the happiest dog in existence. It is care 
 that makes man miserable, and the less we have to care for 
 the happier we are. I have not a doubt you left the fellow 
 at the summit of earthly rapture ! " 
 
 "Aye! " added the Arab, "without a sorrow or a shekel in 
 the world." 
 
 294 
 
21 pirate 3Band 
 
 Boisterous mirth followed the Egyptian, as he started from n «lu«trei 
 his couch and left the hall, casting fierce looks in his retreat, 
 like Parthian arrows, on the carousal. The German had, in 
 the mean time, fallen back in a doze, from which he was dis- 
 turbed by the slave's refilling his goblet. 
 
 " Aye, that tastes like wine," said he, glancing at the Greek, 
 who had by no means forgotten the controversy. 
 
 " Taste what it may, it is the very same wine that you railed 
 at half an hour ago," returned the Chiote ; " the truth is, my 
 good Vladomir, that the wine of Greece is like its language ; 
 both are exquisite and unrivaled to those who understand 
 them. But Nature wisely adapts tastes to men, and men to 
 tastes. I am not at all surprised that north of the Danube 
 they prefer beer." 
 
 The German had nothing to give back for the taunt but 
 the frown that gathered on his black brow. 
 
 The Chiote pursued his triumph, and with a languid, lover- 
 like gaze on the wine, which sparkled in purple radiance to 
 the brim of its enameled cup, he apostrophized the produce 
 of his fine country. 
 
 "Delicious grape! — essence of the sunshine and of the dew! 
 — what vales but the vales of Chios could have produced thee? 
 What tint of heaven is brighter than thy hue? "What fragrance 
 of earth richer than thy perfume? " 
 
 He lightly sipped a few drops from the edge, like a libation 
 to the deity of taste. 
 
 "Exquisite draft!" breathed he; "unequaled but by the 
 rosy lip and melting sigh of beauty ! Well spoke the proverb : 
 ' Chios, whose wines steal every head, and whose women, 
 every heart.' " 
 
 "You forget the rest," gladly interrupted the German— 
 "and whose men steal everything." 
 
 A general laugh followed the retort, such as it was. 
 
 " Scythian ! " said the Greek across the table, in a voice 
 made low by rage, and preparing to strike. 
 
 "Liar! " roared the German, sweeping a blow of his 
 falchion, which the Chiote escaped only by flinging himself on 
 the ground. The blow fell on the table, where it caused wide 
 
 295 
 
Carrg Zbon trui H Come 
 
 Ube Captain devastation. All now started up ; swords were out on every 
 side, and nothing but forcing the antagonists to their cells 
 prevented the last perils of a difference of palate. The storm 
 bellowed deeper and deeper. 
 
 "Here's to the luck that sent us back before this north- 
 wester thought of stirring abroad," said the Arab. "I wish 
 our noble captain were among us now. Where was he last 
 seen? " 
 
 " Steering westward, off and on Rhodes, looking out for the 
 galley that carried the procurator's plate. But this wind 
 must send him in before morning," was the answer of Hanno. 
 
 " Or send him to the bottom, where many as bold a fellow 
 has gone before him," whispered a tall, haggard-looking 
 Italian to the answerer. 
 
 " That would be good news for one of us at least," said 
 Hanno. "You would have no reckoning to settle. Tour 
 crew made a handsome affair of the Alexandrian prize, and 
 the captain might be looking for returns, friend Tertullus." 
 
 " Then let him look to himself. His time may be nearer 
 than he thinks. His haughtiness to men as good as himself 
 may provoke justice before long," growled the Italian, in 
 memory of some late discipline. 
 Hanno laughed loudly. 
 
 " Justice !^is the man mad? The very sound is high trea- 
 son in our gallant company. Why, comrade, if justice ever 
 ventured here, where would some of us have been these last 
 six months? " 
 
 The sound caught the general ear ; the allusion was under- 
 stood, and the Italian was displeased. 
 
 "I hate to be remarkable," said he; "with the honest it 
 may be proper to be honest; but beside you, my facetious 
 Hanno, a man should cultivate a little of the opposite school 
 in mere compliment to his friend. You had no scruples when 
 you hanged the merchant the other day." 
 
 A murmur arose in the hall. 
 
 "Comrades," said Hanno, with the air of an orator, "hear 
 me too on that subject : three words will settle the question 
 to men of sense. The merchant was a regular trader. Will 
 
 296 
 
B pirate :iSand 
 
 any man who knows the world, and has brains an atom clearer Ube 
 than those with which fate has gifted my virtuous friend, tRob^en" 
 believe that I, a regular liver by the merchant, would extin- 
 guish that by which I live? Sensible physicians never kill a 
 patient while he can pay ; sensible kings never exterminate a 
 province when it can produce anything in the shape of a tax ; 
 sensible women never pray for the extinction of our sex until 
 they despair of getting husbands; sensible husbands never 
 wish their wives out of the world while they can get anything 
 by their living : so, sensible men of our profession will never 
 put a merchant under water until they can make nothing by 
 his remaining above it. I have, for instance, raised contribu- 
 tions on that same trader every summer these five years ; and, 
 by the blessing of fortune, hope to have the same thing to say 
 for five times as many years to come. No, I would not see 
 any man touch a hair of his head. In six months he will 
 have a cargo again, and I shall meet him with as much pleas- 
 ure as ever." 
 
 The Carthaginian was highly applauded. 
 
 "Malek, you don't drink," cried the Arab to a gigantic 
 Ethiopian toward the end of the table. " Here, I pledge you 
 in the very wine that was marked for the Emperor's cellar." 
 
 Malek tasted it, and sent back a cup in return. 
 
 "The Emperor's wine may be good enough for him," was 
 the message ; " but I prefer the wine yonder, marked for the 
 Emperor's butler." 
 
 The verdict was fully in favor of the Ethiopian. 
 
 " In all matters of this kind," said Malek, with an air of 
 supreme taste, " I look first to the stores of the regular pro- 
 fessors — the science of life is in the masters of the kitchen 
 and the cellar. Your emperors and procurators, of course, 
 must be content with what they can get. But the man who 
 wishes to have the first-rate wine should be on good terms with 
 the butler. I caught this sample on my last voyage after 
 the imperial fleet. Nero never had such wine on his table." 
 
 He indulged himself in a long draft of this exclusive 
 luxury, and sank on his couch, with his hand clasping the 
 superbly embossed flagon — a part of his prize. 
 
 3P7 
 
Zatxi, (Tbou Qlill IF Come 
 
 Ube ^ "The black churl," said a little shriveled Syrian, "never 
 UiSnt" * shares; he keeps his wine as he keeps his money." 
 
 "Aye, he keeps everything but his character," whispered 
 Hanno. 
 
 "There you wrong him," observed the Syrian; "no man 
 keeps his character more steadily. By Beelzebub ! it is like 
 his skin ; neither will be blacker the longest day he has to 
 live." 
 
 A roar of laughter rose round the hall. 
 
 " Black or not black," exclaimed the Ethiopian, with a sul- 
 len grrin, that showed his teeth like the fangs of a wild beast, 
 "my blood's as red as yours." 
 
 " Possibly," retorted the little Syrian ; " but as I must take 
 your word on the subject till I shall have seen a drop of it 
 spilt in fair fight, I only hope I may live and be happy till 
 then ; and I can not put up a better prayer for a merry old 
 age." 
 
 "There is no chance of your ever seeing it," growled the 
 Ethiopian ; " you love the baggage and the hold too well to 
 leave them to accident, be the fight fair or foul." 
 
 The laugh was easily raised, and it was turned against the 
 Syrian, who started up and declaimed with a fury of gesture 
 that made the ridicule still louder. 
 
 " I appeal to all," cried the fiery orator ; " I appeal to every 
 man of honor among us, whether by night or day, on land or 
 water, I have ever been backward." 
 
 " Never at an escape," interrupted the Ethiopian. 
 
 " Whether I have ever broken faith with the band? " 
 
 " Likely enough ; where nobody trusts, we may defy trea- 
 son." 
 
 " Whether my character and services are not known and 
 valued by our captain? " still louder exclaimed the irritated 
 Syrian. 
 
 "Aye, just as little as they deserve." 
 
 " Silence, brute ! " screamed the diminutive adversary, cast- 
 ing his keen eyes, that doubly blazed with rage, on the Ethi- 
 opian, who still lay embracing the flagon at his ease. " With 
 heroes of your complexion I disdain all contest. If I must 
 
 298 
 
£1 IMrate 3ISanD 
 
 figM, it shall be with human beings : not with savages — not Ube 
 with monsters." ^§S£?bUi*' 
 
 The Ethiopian's black cheek absolutely grew red ; this taunt 
 was the sting. At one prodigious bound he sprang across the 
 table, and darted upon the Syrian's throat with the roar and 
 the fury of a tiger. All was instant confusion; lamps, 
 flagons, fruits, were trampled on ; the table was overthrown ; 
 swords and poniards flashed in all hands. The little Syrian 
 yelled, strangling in the grasp of the black giant, and it was 
 with the utmost difficulty that he could be rescued. The 
 Arab, a fine athletic fellow, achieved this object, and bade 
 him run for his life — a command with which he complied un- 
 hesitatingly, followed by a cheer from Hanuo, who swore that 
 if all trades failed, he would make his fortune by his heels at 
 the Olympic games. 
 
 Our share in the scene was come. The fugitive, naturally 
 bold enough, but startled by the savage ferocity of his antag- 
 onist, made his way toward our place of refuge. The black 
 got loose and pursued. I disdained to be dragged forth as a 
 lurking culprit, and flinging open the door stood before the 
 crowd. The effect was marvelous. The tumult was hushed 
 at once. Our haggard forms, seen by that half-intoxication 
 which bewilders the brain before it enfeebles the senses, were 
 completely fitted to startle the superstition that lurks in the 
 bosom of every son of the sea; and for the moment they 
 evidently took us for something better, or worse, than man. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVni 
 
 Sataihiet and the 'Pirate Captain 
 
 »«He» But the delusion was short-lived ; my voice broke the spell, 
 
 and perhaps the consciousness of their idle alarm increased 
 their rage. " Spies ! " was then the outcry, and this dreaded 
 sound brought from beds and tables the whole band. It was 
 ia vaiu that I attempted to speak; the mob have no ears, 
 whether in cities or caves, and we were dragged forward to 
 undergo our examiuation. Yet what was to be done iu the 
 midst of a host of tongues, all questioning, accusing, and 
 swearing together? 
 
 Some were ready to take every star of heaven to witness 
 that we were a pair of Paphlagonian pilots, and the identical 
 ones hired to run two of their ships aground, by which the 
 best expedition of the year was undone. Others knew us to 
 have been in the regular pay of the procurator, and the means 
 of betraying their last captain to the ax. But the majority 
 honored us with the character of simple thieves, who had 
 taken advantage of their absence to plunder the baggage. 
 
 The question next arose, " How we could have got in? " 
 and for the first time the carousers thought of their sentinel. 
 I told them what I had seen. They poured into his chamber, 
 and their suspicions were fixed in inexorable reality: "We 
 had murdered him." The speediest death for us was now the 
 only consideration. Every man had his proposal, and never 
 were more curious varieties of escape from this evil world 
 offered to two wretches already weary of it; but the Arab's 
 voice carried the point. " He disliked seeing men tossed into 
 the fire ; ropes were too useful, and the sword was too honor- 
 able to be employed on rogues. But as by water we came, by 
 water we should go." The sentence was received with a 
 shout; and amid laughter, furious cries, and threats of ven- 
 geance, we were dragged to the mouth of the cave. 
 
 300 
 
Salatbiel and tbe ipitate Captain 
 
 There was a new scene. The tempest was appalling. The Ube mrrival ot 
 waves burst into the anchorage in huge heaps, dashing sheets *** ttwtatn 
 of foam up to its roof. The wind voUeyedin gusts, that took 
 the strongest off their feet ; ihe galleys at anchor were tossed 
 as if they were so many weeds on the surface of the water. 
 Lamps and torches were useless, and the only light was from 
 the funereal gleam of the billows, and the sheets of sulfurous 
 fire that fell upon the turbulence of ocean beyond. Even the 
 hardy forms round me were startled, and I took advantage of 
 a furious gust that swung us all aside, to struggle from their 
 grasp, and seizing a pike, fight for my life. Jubal seconded 
 me with the boldness that no decay could exhaust, and setting 
 our backs to the rocks, we for a while baffled our executioners. 
 But this could not last against such numbers. Our pikes 
 were broken ; we were hemmed in, and finally dragged again 
 to the mouth of the cavern, that with its foam and the howl 
 of the tumbling billows looked like the jaws of some huge 
 monster ready for its prey. 
 
 Bruised and overpowered, I was on the point of denying my 
 murderers their last indulgence, and plunging headlong, when 
 a trumpet sounded. The pirates loosed their hold, and in a 
 few minutes a large galley with all her oars broken and every 
 sail torn to fragments shot by the mouth of the cavern. A 
 joyous cry of, "The captain! the captain!" echoed through 
 the vaults. The galley, disabled by the storm, tacked several 
 times before she could make the entrance ; but at length, by 
 a masterly maneuver, she was brought round, and darted 
 right in on the top of a mountainous billow. Before she 
 touched the ground, the captain had leaped into the arms of 
 the band, who received him with shouts. His quick eye fell 
 upon us at once, and he demanded fiercely what we were. 
 " Spies and thieves " was the general reply. 
 
 " Spies ! " he repeated, looking contemptuously at our 
 habiliments — "impossible. Thieves, very likely, and very 
 beggarly ones." 
 
 1 denied both imputations alike. He seemed struck by my 
 words, and said to the crowd : " Folly ! Take them away, if 
 it does not require too much courage to touch them ; and let 
 
 801 
 
tracts Ubou trill f Gome 
 
 •Cbc daptein'* theni be washed and fed for the honor of hospitality and their 
 "^ own faces. Here, change my clothes and order supper." 
 
 I attempted to explaia how we came. 
 
 "Of course — of course," said the captain, pulling off his 
 dripping garments and flinging his cloak to one, his cuirass 
 to another, and his cap to a third. " Your rags would vouch 
 for you in any port on earth. Or, if you carry on the trade 
 of treachery, you are very ill paid. Why, Menmon, look at 
 these fellows ; would you give a shekel for their souls and 
 bodies? Not a mite. When I look for spies, I expect to find 
 them among the prosperous. However, if you turn out to be 
 spies, eat, drink, and sleep your best to-night, for you shall 
 be hanged to-morrow." 
 
 He hurried onward, and we followed, still in durance. 
 The banquet was reinstated, and the principal personages of 
 the band gathered round to hear the adventures of the voyage. 
 
 "All has been ill luck," said the captain, tossing off a 
 bumper. "The old procurator's spirit was, I think, abroad 
 either to take care of his plate or to torment mankind, accord- 
 ing to his custom. We were within a boat's length of the 
 prize when the wind came right in our teeth. Everything 
 that could, ran for the harbor ; some went on the rocks ; some 
 straight to the bottom ; and that we might not follow their 
 example, I put the good ship before the wind, and never was 
 better pleased than to find myself at home. Thus you see, 
 comrades, that my history is brief ; but then it has an advan- 
 tage that history sometimes denies itself — every syllable of it 
 is true." 
 
 As the light of the lamps fell on him, it struck me that his 
 face was familiar to my recollection. He was young, but the 
 habits of his life had given him a premature manhood ; his 
 eye flashed and sparkled with Eastern brilliancy, but his 
 cheek, after the first flush of the banquet, was pale ; and the 
 thinness of a physiognomy naturally masculine and noble, 
 showed that either care or hardship had lain heavily upon his 
 days. He had scarcely sat down to the table when, his 
 glance turning where we stood guarded, he ordered us to be 
 brought before him. 
 
Salatblel and tbe titrate Captain 
 
 "I think," said he, "you came here but a day or two ago. Satatbuiant 
 
 Did you find no difficulty with our sentinels? " 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the Arab, "how could I have forgotten 
 that? I left Titus, or by whatever of his hundi-ed names he 
 chose to be called, on guard, at his own request, the day I 
 steered for the Nile. He was sick, or pretended to be so ; 
 and as I gave myself but a couple of days for the voyage, I 
 expected to be back in time to save him, from the horrors of 
 his own company. But the wind said otherwise — the two 
 days were ten ; and on my return we found the wretched fel- 
 low a corpse — whether from being taken ill and unable to 
 help himself, or from the assistance of those worthy persons 
 here whom we discovered ia attendance." 
 
 " On that subject I have no doubt whatever," interposed 
 the Egyptian; "those villains murdered him." 
 
 "It is possible," mused the captain; "but I can not fore- 
 see what they are to get by it. A question that you at least 
 will acknowledge to be of considerable importance," said he, 
 with a careless smile at the Egyptian, whose avarice was 
 proverbial. 
 
 The object of satire was stung, and to get rid of the dan- 
 gerous topic, he affected wrath and said impetuously : 
 
 " Let it be so ; let our blood go for nothing ; let treachery 
 thrive ; let our throats be at the mercy of every wandering 
 ruffian ; and let us have the consolation that our labors and 
 our sacrifices will be honored with a sneer." 
 
 He turned to the crowd waiting round us. " Brave com- 
 rades," exclaimed he, "henceforth understand that you are at 
 every dagger's mercy; that if you are left behind, you may 
 be assassinated with impunity, as, if you are taken out upon 
 our foolish expeditions, your lives may be flung away upon 
 the whims and follies of would-be heroes." 
 
 The crowd, fickle and inflamed by wine, gave a huzza for 
 the "sailor's friend." The Egyptian encouraged, and having 
 a load of gall upon his memory, made the desperate venture 
 of at once disowning the authority of the captain, and order- 
 ing in his own name that we should be delivered over to exe- 
 cution. 
 
 808 
 
 tbe Oaptain 
 
Zmvs Zboix zm V Come 
 
 Saiatbiei The captain listened without a word, but his hand was on 
 his simitar, and his cheek burned, as he fixed his eyes on the 
 livid accuser. 
 
 The crowd pressed closer upon us, and I saw the dagger 
 pointed at my breast, when I recollected the letter. I gave 
 it to the captain, who read it ia silence, and then, with the 
 utmost composure, desired it to be handed over to the Egyp- 
 tian. 
 
 "Comrades," said he, "I have to apologize for a breach of 
 the confidence that should always subsist between men of 
 honor. I have here accidentally read a letter which the 
 cipher shows to have been intended for our trusty friend 
 Memnon ; but since the subject is no longer confined to him- 
 self, he wUl doubtless feel no objection to indulging us all 
 with the correspondence." 
 
 The band thronged round the table; expectation sat on 
 every face, and its various expression ia the crowded circle of 
 those strong physiognomies — the keen, the wondering, the 
 angry, the contemptuous, the convinced, the triumphant — 
 would have made an incomparable study for a painter. The 
 Egyptian took the letter with a trembling hand and read the 
 fatal words. 
 
 "The fleet will be off the northern promontory by mid- 
 night. You will light a signal, and be ready to conduct the 
 troops into the cavern." 
 
 The reader let the fatal despatch fall from his hands. 
 
 An outcry of wrath rose on all sides, and the traitor was on 
 the point of being sacrificed when the young Idumean gener- 
 ously started forward. 
 
 " It is known, I believe, to every man here," said he, " that I 
 dislike and distrust Memnon as much as any being on earth. 
 I know him to be base and cruel, and therefore hate him. I 
 have long suspected him of being connected with transactions 
 that nothing but the madness of avarice could venture upon, 
 and nothing but death atone. But he must not perish with- 
 out a trial. Till inquiry is made, the man who strikes him 
 must strike through me." 
 
 He placed himself before the culprit, who now taking coux- 
 
 S04 
 
Salatblel and tbe ipttate Gaptatn 
 
 age, long and dexterously insisted that the letter was a for-Ube£jwtfan'a 
 gery, invented by "assassins and those who employed as- ** 
 sassins." 
 
 The tide of popular wisdom is easily turned ; opinion was 
 now raging against me, and the Egyptian stood a fair chance 
 of seeing his reputation cleared in my blood. 
 
 " Come," said the captain, rising, " as we are not likely to 
 gain much information from the living, let us see whether the 
 dead can give us any: lead on, prisoners." 
 
 I led the way to the recess. The dead man lay untouched; 
 but in the interval the features had returned, as is often the 
 case in death, to the expression of former years. I uttered 
 an exclamation ; he was the domestic who had betrayed me to 
 the procurator. 
 
 " Conscience ! " cried the Egyptian. 
 
 " Conscience ! " echoed the crowd. 
 
 The captain turned to me. "Did either you or your com- 
 panion commit this murder? I will have no long stories. I 
 know that this fellow was a villain, and if he had lived until 
 my return, he should have fed the crows within the next 
 twelve hours. One word — ^yes or no? " 
 
 I answered firmly. 
 
 " I believe you," said the captain. He took the hand of 
 the corpse, and called to the Egyptian. " Take this hand, 
 and swear that you know nothing of the treason. But, ha! 
 what have we here? " 
 
 As he lifted the arm, the sleeve of the tunic gave way, 
 and a slip of papyrus fell on the bed. He caught it up, and 
 exclaiming, "What! to-night? pernicious villain!" turned to 
 the astonished band. 
 
 " Comrades, there is treachery among us. We are sold — 
 sold by that accursed Egyptian. Strip the slave, and fling 
 Tiim into the dungeon imtil I return ; no, he shall come with 
 us in chains. Call up the men. Every gaUey must put to 
 sea instantly, if we would not be burned in our beds." 
 
 The trumpets sounded through the cavern, and rapid prep- 
 arations were made for obeying this unexpected command. 
 The fires blazed again ; arms and armor rang ; men were mus- 
 
 20 3a5 
 
Ti&tvs xibovi lEtii 1 aome 
 
 IPtepartng for tered, and the galleys swung out from their moorings, in the 
 midst of tumult and volleys of execrations against the treach- 
 ery that "could not wait, at least, for daylight and fair 
 weather." 
 
 " And now," said the captain, " I think that it is time for me 
 to sup. Sit down, and let us hear over our wine what story 
 the prisoners have to tell." 
 
 I briefly stated our escape from the dungeon. 
 
 " It may be a lie ; yet the thing hangs not badly together. 
 Your wardrobe speaks prodigiously in favor of your veracity. 
 Ho, Ben Ali! see that the avenue into the warehouse is 
 stopped up. We must have no visits from the garrison of the 
 tower. " 
 
 He had soon a group of listeners round the table. 
 
 " As I was lying off and on, waiting to catch that galley, 
 a correspondent on shore let me partly into the secret of that 
 Egyptian dog's dealings. Eich as the knave was — and how 
 he came by his money, Tartarus only knows — Eoman gold 
 had charms for him still. In fact, he had been carrying on 
 a very handsome trade in information during the last six 
 months, which may best account for the escape of two fleets 
 from Byzantium, and not less for the present safety of the 
 procurator's plate, which, however, I hope, by the blessing of 
 Neptune, to see before another week shining upon this table.'' 
 
 Then, turning to me, he laughingly said : " Tho I should 
 not trust you for pilotage, your discovery was of use. That 
 an attack upon us was intended I was aware ; but the how 
 and the when were the difficulty. The time of the attack was 
 announced in the papyrus, and but for the storm we should 
 probably be now doing other things than supping." 
 
 "The sea is going down already, and the wind has 
 changed," said the Arab. "We can haul off the shore with- 
 out loss of time." 
 
 " Then the sooner the better. We must seal up the Eo- 
 mans in their port, or if they venture out on such a night, 
 give them sound reason for wishing that they had stayed at 
 home. Their galleys, if good for nothing else, will do to 
 burn." 
 
 806 
 
Salatbiel and tbe pitate Captain 
 
 This bold determination -was receiTed with a general cheer; ube ttompans 
 the crews drank to the glory of their expedition, and all rushed jfcewUcaseM 
 toward the galleys, which, crowded with men, lay tossing at 
 the edge of the arch. 
 
 I followed, and demanded what was to be our fate. 
 
 " What will you have? " 
 
 " Anything but abandonment here. Let us take the chances 
 of your voyage, and be set on shore at the first place you 
 touch." 
 
 " And sell our secret to the best bidder? No. But I have 
 no time to make terms with you now. One word for all; 
 ragged as you both are, you are strong, aad your faces would 
 do no great discredit to our profession. You probably thiuk 
 this no very striking compliment," said he, laughing. " How- 
 ever, I have taken a whim to have you with us and offer you 
 promotion. Will you take service with the noble company of 
 the Free-trade? " 
 
 Jubal was rashly indignant; I checked him, and merely 
 answered that I had pm'poses of extreme exigency which pre- 
 vented my accepting his offer. 
 
 "Ha, morality! " exclaimed he, "you will not be seen with 
 rogues like us? " He laughed aloud. " Why, man, if you 
 will not live, eat, drink, travel, and die with rogues, where 
 upon earth can you expect to live or die? The difference be- 
 tween us and the world is that we do the thing without the 
 additional vice of hypocrisy." 
 
 The bold fellows who waited round us felt for the honor of 
 their calling, and but for their awe of the captain we had stood 
 slight chance of escape. 
 
 "A pike might let a little light into their understandings," 
 said one. 
 
 " If they will not follow on the deck, they should swim at 
 the stern," said another. 
 
 "The hermits should be sent back to their dungeon," said 
 a third. 
 
 The boat was now run up on the sand. 
 
 "Get in," said the captain. "I have taken it into my 
 head to convince you by fact of the honor, dignity, and 
 
 307 
 
Hates Ubou Zttl ir Come 
 
 xtbe captafn'e primitiveness of our profession, wHch is, ia the first place, 
 "* the oldest, for it was the original employment of aU human 
 hands; in the next place, the most universal, for it is the 
 principle of all trades, pursuits, and professions, from the 
 Emperor on his throne down through the doctor, the lawyer, 
 and the merchant, to the very sediment of society. " 
 
 A loud laugh echoed through the cavern. 
 
 While he was arranging his corselet and weapons round him, 
 the captain proceeded : " The Free-trade is the essence of the 
 virtues. Por example, I meet a merchantman loaded with 
 goods— for what is the cargo meaat? To purchase slaves ; to 
 tear fathers from their families — husbands from their wives ; 
 to burn villages, and bribe savages to murder each other. I 
 strip the hold ; the slave-market is at an end, and none suf- 
 fer but fellows who ought to have been hanged long ago. " 
 
 The captain's doctrine was more popular than ever. 
 
 " I see, comrades," said the captain, "that tho truth is per- 
 suasive, your huzza is not for me, but for fact. We find a 
 young rake ranging the world with more money than brains, 
 sowing sedition among the fair rivals for the honor of sharing 
 his purse; running away with daughters; gambling greater 
 fools than himself out of their fortunes ; in short, playing the 
 profligate in all shapes. He drops into our hands, and we 
 strip him to the last penny. What is the consequence? We 
 make him virtuous on the spot. The profligate becomes a 
 model of penitence ; the root of all his Uls has been unearthed ; 
 the prodigal is saving ; the bacchanal temperate ; the seducer 
 lives in the innocence of a babe ; the gambler never touches a 
 die. We have broken the mainspriag of his vices — money ; 
 disarmed the soft deceiver of his spell — money ; checked the 
 infection of the gambler's example by cutting off the source 
 of the disease — money ; or if nothing can teach him common 
 sense, our dungeon will at least keep him out of harm's way. 
 We meet a rich old rogue," contiuued he, "on his voyage be- 
 tween the islands. What is he going to do? To marry some 
 young creature who has a young lover, perhaps a dozen. 
 The marriage would break her heart and raise a little rebel- 
 lion in the island. We capture the old Cupid, strip him of 
 
 808 
 
Salatbfel an& tbe pirate Captain 
 
 his coin, and lie is a Cupid no more; fathers and mothers ®n3Boar6tbe 
 abhor him at once ; the young lover has his hride and the **"•=«* 
 old one his lesson ; the one gets his love and the other his 
 experience ; and both have to thank the gallant crew of the 
 Scorpion, which may Neptune long keep above water." 
 
 A joyous shout and the waving of caps and swords hailed 
 the captain's display. "The Free-trade forever!" was 
 cheered in all directions. 
 
 "And now, my heroes of salt water, noble brothers of the 
 Kereids, sons of the starlight, here I make libation to for- 
 tune." 
 
 He poured a part of his cup into the wave, and drank to 
 the general health with the remainder. 
 
 " Happiness to aU ! Let our work to-night be what it will, 
 I know, my heroes, that it will be handsomely done. The 
 enemy may call us names, but you will answer them by 
 proofs that, whatever we may be, we are neither slaves nor 
 dastards. If I catch the insolent commander of the Eoman 
 fleet, I will teach him a lesson in morals that he never knew 
 before. He shall flog, fleece, and torture no more. I will 
 turn the hard-hearted tyrant into tenderness from top to toe. 
 His treatment of the crew of the Hycena was infamous ; and, 
 by Jupiter! what I owe him shall be discharged in full. 
 Now on board, and may Neptune take care of you ! " 
 
 The trumpets flourished, the people cheered, the boats 
 pushed off, the galleys hoisted every sail, and in a moment we 
 found ourselves rushiag through the water under the wildest 
 canopy of heaven. 
 
 8M 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX 
 A Sea Fight 
 
 Ube Captain ts We stretched out far to sea, for the double purpose of fall- 
 ing by surprise upon the Eroman squadron and of avoiding the 
 shoals. The wind lulled at intervals so much that we had 
 recourse to our oars ; it ■would then burst down with a vio- 
 lence that all but hurled us out of the water. I now saw 
 more of the captain, and was witness to the extraordinary 
 activity and skill of this singular young man. Never was 
 there a more expert seaman. For every change of sea or 
 wind he had a new expedient ; and when the hearts of the 
 stoutest sank, he took the helm into his hands and carried us 
 through the chaos of foam, whirlwind, and lightning with 
 the vigor of one born to sport with the storm. 
 
 As I was gazing over the vessel's side at the phosphoric 
 gleams that danced along the billows, he came up to me. 
 
 "I am sorry," said he, "that we have been compelled to 
 give you so rough a specimen of our hospitality, and this is 
 not altogether a summer sea, but you saw how the matter 
 stood. The enemy would have been upon us, and the whole 
 advantage of our staying at home would be to have our throats 
 cut in company." 
 
 Odd and rambling as his style was, there was something in 
 his manner and voice that had struck me before, even in the 
 boisterousness of the convivial crowd. But now, in the soli- 
 tary sea, there was a melancholy sweetness in his tones that 
 made me start with sad recollection. Yet, when by the light- 
 ning I attempted to discover in his features any clue to mem- 
 ory, and saw but the tall figure wrapped in the sailor's cloak, 
 the hair streaming over hie face in the spray, and every line 
 of his powerful physiognomy at its fuU stretch in the agita- 
 tion of the timci the thought vanished again. 
 
 810 
 
Zl Sea SiQbt 
 
 "I hinted," said he, after an interval of silence, "at your fXs iReuueat 
 taking chance with us. If you -wlII, you may. But the hint 
 was thrown out merely to draw off the fellows about me, and 
 you are at full liberty to forget it." 
 
 "It is impossible to join you," was my answer; "my life is 
 due to my country." 
 
 " Oh, for that matter, so is mine, and due a long time ago ; 
 my only wonder is, how I have evaded payment till now. 
 Bur I am a man of few words. I have taken a sort of liking 
 to you, and would wish to have a few such at hand. The 
 world calls me pirate, and the majority, of course, carries the 
 question. For its opinion I do not care a cup of water ; a 
 bubble would weigh as heavily with me as the rambling, giddy, 
 vulgar judgment of a world in which the first of talents is 
 knavery. I never knew a man fail who brought to market 
 prostitution of mind enough to make him a tool, vice enough 
 to despise everything but gain, and cunning enough to keep 
 himself out of the hands of the magistrate tUl opulence en- 
 abled him to corrupt the law or authority to defy it. But let 
 that pass. The point between us is, will you take service 
 with us? " 
 
 "No! I feel the strongest gratitude for the manliness and 
 the generosity of your protection. You saved our lives, and 
 our only hope of revisiting Judea in freedom is through you. 
 But, young man, I have a great cause in hand. I have risked 
 everything for it. Family, wealth, rank, life, are my stake ; 
 and I look upon every hour given to other things as so far a 
 fraud upon my country." 
 
 I heard him sigh. There was silence on both sides for a 
 while, and he paced the deck; then suddenly returning, laid 
 his hand on my shoulder. 
 
 "I am convinced of your honor," said he, "and far be it 
 from me to betray a man who has indeed a purpose worthy 
 of manhood into our broken and unhappy— aye, let the word 
 come out, infamous career. But you tell me that I have been 
 of some use to you ; I now demand the return. You have re- 
 fused to take service with me. Let me take service with 
 you ! " 
 
 311 
 
^rarrs Q^bou tlill f Come 
 
 Vbe fteetnu I stared at him. He smiled sadly, and said : " Tou will 
 Iftoman fleet not associate -with one stained like me. Aye, for me there is 
 no repentance! Yet, why shall the world" — and his voice 
 was full of anguish — "why shall an ungenerous and misjudg- 
 ing world be suffered to keep forever at a distance those 
 whom it has first betrayed? " His emotion got the better of 
 him, and his voice sank. He again, approached me. " I am 
 weary of this kind of life. Not that I have reason to com- 
 plain of the men about me, nor that I dislike the chances of 
 the sea ; but that I feel the desire to be something better — to 
 redeem myself out of the number of the dishonored; to do 
 something which, whether I live or die, will satisfy me that 
 I was not meant to be — the outcast that I am." 
 
 " Then join us, if you will," said I. " Our cause demands 
 the bold ; and the noblest spirit that ever dwelt in man would 
 find its finest field in the deliverance of our land, the land of 
 holiness and glory. But can you leave all that you have 
 round you here? " 
 
 " Not without a struggle. I have an infinite delight in this 
 wild kind of existence. I love the strong excitement of haz- 
 ard ; I love the perpetual bustle of our career ; I love even 
 the capriciousness of wind and wave. I have wealth in re- 
 turn for its perils ; and no man knows what enjoyment is but 
 he who knows it through the fatigue of a sailor's life. All 
 the banquets of Epicureanism are not half so delicious as even 
 the simplest meal to his hunger, nor the softest bed of lux- 
 ury half so refreshing as the bare deck to his weariness. But 
 I must break up those habits ; and whether beggar, slave, or 
 soldier obtaining the distinction of a soldier's success, I am 
 determined on trying my chance among mankind." 
 
 A sheet of lightning at this instant covered the whole hori- 
 zon with blue flame, and a huge ball of fire springing from the 
 cloud, after a long flight over the waters split upon the shore. 
 The keenness of the seaman's eye saw what had escaped mine. 
 "That was a lucky sea-light ' for us," said he. "The Ro- 
 mans are lying under yonder promontory, driven to take 
 shelter by the gale, of course; but for that fire-ball they 
 would have escaped me." 
 
 312 
 
a Sea jflgbt 
 
 All the crew were now summoned on deck ; signals were Saiatbiel aivts 
 made to the other galleys ; the little fleet brought into close * '" 
 order ; pikes, torches, and combustibles of all kinds gathered 
 upon the poop ; the sails furled, and with muffled oars we glided 
 down upon the enemy. The Eoman squadron, with that 
 precaution which was the essential of its matchless discipline, 
 was drawn up in order of battle, tho it could have had no 
 expectation of being attacked on such a night. But the roar 
 of the gale buried every other sound, and we stole round the 
 promontory unheard. 
 
 The short period of this silent navigation was one of the 
 keenest anxiety. All but those necessary for the working of 
 the vessel were lying on their faces ; not a limb was moved, 
 and like a galley of the dead we floated on, filled with de- 
 struction. We were yet at some distance from the twinkling 
 lights that showed the prefect's trireme when, on glancing 
 round, I perceived a dark object on the water, and pointed it 
 out to the captain. 
 
 "Some lurking spy," said he, "who was born to pay for his 
 knowledge." 
 
 With a sailor's promptitude he caught up a lamp and 
 swung it overboard. It fell beside the object, a small boat, 
 as black as the waves themselves. 
 
 "Kow for the sentinel," were his words, as he plunged into 
 the sea. The act was as rapid as the words. I heard a 
 struggle, a groan, and the boat floated empty beside me on 
 the next billow. 
 
 But there was no time to wait for his return. We were 
 within an oar's length of the anchorage. To communicate 
 the probable loss of their captain (and what could human 
 struggle do among the mountainous waves of that sea?) 
 might be to dispirit the crew and ruin the enterprise. I took 
 the command upon myself, and gave the word to fall on. 
 
 A storm of fire, as strange to the enemy as if it had risen 
 from the bottom of the sea, was instantly poured on the ad- 
 vanced ships. The surprise was complete. The crews, ex- 
 hausted by the night, were chiefly asleep. The troops on 
 board were helpless, on decks covered with spray, and among 
 
 81S 
 
Carts Cbou Ilill H Gome 
 
 tSbe shrouds and sails falling down in burning fragments on their 
 of iBuHns' heads. Our shouts gave them the idea of heing attacked by 
 overwhelming numbers, and after a short dispute we cleared 
 the whole outer line of every sailor and soldier. The whole 
 was soon a pile of flame, a sea volcano that lighted sky, 
 sea, and shore. 
 
 Yet only half our work was done. The enemy were now 
 fully awake, and no man could despise Eoman preparation. 
 I ordered a fire gallery to run in between the leading ships ; 
 but she was caught half-way by a chain, and turned round, 
 scattering flame among ourselves. The boats were then 
 lowered, and our most desperate fellows sent to cut out or 
 board. But the crowded decks drove them back, and the 
 Eoman pike was an over-match for our short falchions. For 
 a while we were forced to content ourselves with the distant 
 exchange of lances and arrows. The affair now became criti- 
 cal. The enemy were still three times our force ; they were 
 unmooring, and our only chance of destroying them was at 
 anchor. I called the crew forward and proposed that we 
 should run the galley close on the prefect's ship, set them 
 both on fire, and in the confusion carry the remaining ves- 
 sels. But sailors, if as bold, are as capricious as their ele- 
 ment. Our partial repulse had already disheartened them. 
 I was met by clamors for the captain. The clamors rose into 
 open charges that I had, to get the command, thrown him 
 overboard. 
 
 I was alone. Jubal, worn out with fatigue and illness, 
 was lying at my feet, more requiring defense than able to 
 afford it. The crowd was growing furious against the 
 stranger. I felt that all depended on the moment, and 
 leaped from the poop into the midst of the mutineers. 
 
 "Fools," I exclaimed, "what could I get by making away 
 with your captain? I have no wish for your command. I 
 have no want of your help. I disdain you: bold as lions 
 over the table ; tame as sheep on the deck ; I leave you to be 
 butchered by the Eomans. Let the brave follow me, if such 
 there be among you." 
 
 A shallop that had just returned with the defeated boarders. 
 
 su 
 
B Sea jfigbt 
 
 lay by the galley's side. I seized a torch. Eight or ten, ufce iBonatct 
 roused by my taunts, followed me into the boat. We pulled " eaueii" 
 right for the Roman center. Every man had a torch in one 
 hand and an oar in the other. We shot along the waters, a 
 flying mass of flame ; and while both fleets were gazing on us 
 in astonishment, rushed under the stern of the commander's 
 trireme. The fire soon rolled up her tarry sides and ran 
 along the cordage. But the defense was desperate, and lances 
 rained upon us. Half of us were disabled in the first dis- 
 charge ; the shallop was battered with huge stones, and I felt 
 that she was sinking. 
 
 " One trial more, brave comrades, one glorious trial more ! 
 The boat must go down, and unless we would go along with it, 
 we must board." 
 
 I leaped forward and clung to the chains. My example 
 was followed. The boat went down ; and this sight, which 
 was just discovered by the livid flame of the vessel, raised a 
 roar of triumph among the enemy. But to climb up the tall 
 sides of the trireme was beyond our skill, and we remained, 
 dashed by the heavy waves as she rose and fell. Our only 
 alternatives now were to be piked, drowned, or burned. The 
 flames were already rapidly advancing ; showers of sparkles 
 fell upon our heads ; the clamps and ironwork were growing 
 hot to the touch ; the smoke was rolling over us in suffocating 
 volumes. I was giving up all for lost when a mountainous 
 billow swept the vessel's head round, and I saw a blaze burst 
 out from the shore, — the Koman tents were on fire ! 
 
 Consternation seized the crews, thus attacked on all sides ; 
 and uncertain of the number of the assailants, they began to 
 desert the ships and by boats or swimming make for the 
 various points of the land. The sight reanimated me. I 
 climbed up the side of the trireme, torch in hand, and with 
 my haggard countenance, made still wilder by the wild work 
 of the night, looked a formidable apparition to men already 
 harassed out of all courage. They plunged overboard — and 
 I was monarch of the finest war-galley on the coast of Syria. 
 
 But my kingdom was without subjects. None of my own 
 crew had followed me. I saw the pirate vessels bearing down 
 
 81ft 
 
Uarti2 c:bou Uill f Come 
 
 Ube to complete the destruction of the fleet, and hailed them, but 
 ConflafltaHon ^j^^^ ^^^ ^^^p^ ^^^ ^.^j^ ^^ ^j^^ trireme. The fire had taken 
 
 too fast hold of her to make approach safe. I now began to 
 feel my situation. The first sense of triumph was past, and 
 I found myself deserted. The deed of devastation, mean- 
 while, was rapidly goiag on. I saw the Eoman ships sue- 
 cessively boarded, almost without resistance, and in a blaze. 
 The conflagration rose in sheets and spires to the heavens, and 
 colored the waters to an unmeasurable extent with the deepest 
 dye of gore. I heard the victorious shouts, and mine rose 
 spontaneously along with them. In every vessel burned, in 
 every torch flung, I rejoiced in a new blow to the tyrants of 
 Judea. But my thoughts were soon fearfully brought home. 
 The fire reached the cables ; the trireme, plunging and tossing 
 like a living creature in its last agony, burst away from hei 
 anchors ; the wind was off the shore ; a gust, strong as the 
 blow of a battering-ram, struck her; and on the back of & 
 huge wave she shot out to sea, a flying pyramid of fixe. 
 
 ne 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 A 'Burning Trireme 
 
 Nbvbe was man more indifferent to the result than the UbeSoiftars 
 solitary voyager of the burning trireme. What had life for 
 me? I gazed round me. The element of fire reigned su- 
 preme. The shore — mountain, vale, and sand — was bright 
 as day from the blaze of the tents and the floating fragments 
 of the galleys. The heavens were an arch of angry splendor 
 — every stooping cloud swept along reddened with the vari- 
 ous dyes of the conflagration below. The sea was a rolling 
 abyss of the fiercest color of slaughter. The blazing vessels, 
 loosened from the shore, rushed madly before the storm, sheet 
 and shroud shaking loose abroad like vast wings of flame. 
 
 At length all disappeared. The shore faded far into a dim 
 line of light; the galleys sank or were consumed; the sea 
 grew dark again. But the trireme, strongly built and of 
 immense size, still fed the flame, and still shot on through 
 the tempest, that fell on her the more furiously as she lost 
 the cover of the land. The waves rose to a height that often 
 baffled the wind, and left me floating in a strange calm be- 
 tween two black walls of water reaching to the clouds, and 
 on whose smooth sides the image of the burning vessel was 
 reflected as strongly as in a mirror. But the ascent to the 
 summit of those fearful barriers again let in the storm in its 
 rage. The tops of the billows were whirled off in sheets of 
 foam ; the wind tore mast and sail away, and the vessel was 
 dashed forward like a stone discharged from an engine. I 
 stood on the poop, which the spray and the wind kept clear 
 of flame, and contemplated, with some feeling of the fierce 
 grandeur of the spectacle, the fire rolling over the forward 
 part of the vessel in a thousand shapes and folds. 
 
 While I was thus careering along, like the genius of fire 
 
 817 
 
Z&xvs tUbou TEill V Come 
 
 C6e soun» of upon his throne, I caught a glimpse of sails scattering in 
 " " " every direction before me — I had rushed into the middle of 
 one of those small trading-fleets that coasted annually be- 
 tween the Euxine aild the Nile. They flew, as if pursued by 
 a fiend. But the same wind that bore them, bore me ; and 
 their screams, as the trireme bounded from billow to billow 
 on their track, were audible even through the roarings of the 
 storm. They gradually succeeded in spreading themselves so 
 far that the contact with the flame must be partial. But on 
 one, the largest and most crowded, the trireme bore inevi- 
 tably down. The hunted ship tried every mode of escape m 
 vain ; it maneuvered with extraordinary skill ; but the pur- 
 suer, lightened of every burden, rushed on like a messenger 
 of vengeance. 
 
 I could distiQctly see the confusion and misery of the crowd 
 that covered the deck; men and women kneeling, weeping, 
 fainting, or, in the fierce riot of despair, struggling for some 
 wretched spoil that a few moments more must tear from aU 
 alike. But among the fearful mingling of sounds, one voice 
 I suddenly heard that struck to my soul. It alone roused me 
 from my stem scorn of human suffering. I no longer looked 
 upon those beings as upon insects, that must be crushed in the 
 revolution of the great wheel of fate. The heart, the living 
 human heart, palpitated within me. I rushed to the side of 
 the trireme, and with voice and hand made signals to the 
 crew to take me on board. But at my call a cry of agony 
 rang through the vessel. All fled to its farther part, but a 
 few, who, unable to move, were seen on their knees, and in 
 the attitudes of preternatural fear, imploring every power of 
 heaven. Shocked by the consciousness that, even ia the hour 
 when mutual hazard softens the heai-t of man, I was an object 
 of horror, I shrank back. I heard the voice once more, and 
 once more resolving to get on board, flung a burning fragment 
 over the side to help me through the waves. 
 
 But the time was past. The fragment had scarcely touched 
 the foam when a sheet of lightning wrapped sea and sky; the 
 flying vessel was gone. My eye looked but upon the wilder- 
 ness of waters The flash was fatal. It had struck the hold 
 
 818 
 
^pyfgbt, 1901 , bv FiiDk & Wagnalls Company, N, Y. and London. 
 
 TK« cniitnrv vnvfltJfir of the burning trireme. 
 
 See page 317. 
 
2i JSutning ^ciceme 
 
 of my trireme, in which was stowed a large freightage of the in a 
 bitumen and niter of the desert, A column of ilame, white as ™'>**'p~' 
 silrer, rose straight and steadily up to the clouds ; and the 
 huge ship, disparting timber by timber, reeled, heaved, and 
 plunged headlong into the bosom of the ocean. 
 
 I rose to the surface from a prodigious depth. I was near- 
 ly breathless. My limbs were wasted with famine and fa- 
 tigue ; but the tossing of the surges sustained and swept me 
 on. The chill at last benumbed me, and my limbs were 
 heavy as iron, when a broken mast rolling by entangled me 
 in its cordage. It drove toward a point of land, round which 
 the current swept. Strongly netted in the wreck, I was 
 dragged along, sometimes above the billow, sometimes below. 
 But a violent shock released me, and with a new terror I felt 
 myself go down. I was engulfed in the whirlpool ! 
 
 Every sensation was horribly vivid. I had the full con- 
 sciousness of life and of the unfathomable depth into which 
 I was descending. I heard the roar and rushing of the 
 waters round me ; the holding of my breath was torture ; I 
 strained, struggled, tossed out my arms, and grasped madly 
 around, as if to catch something that might retard my hideous 
 descent. My eyes were open. I never was less stunned by 
 shock or fear. The solid darkness, the suffocation, the furi- 
 ous whirl of the eddy that spun me round its huge circle like 
 an atom of sand — every sense of drowning — passed through 
 my shattered frame with an individual and successive pang. 
 I at last touched something, whether living or dead, fish or 
 stone, I know not; but the impulse changed my direction, 
 and I was darted up to the surface in a little bay sheltered 
 by hills. 
 
 The storm had gone with the rapidity of the south. The 
 sun burned bright and broad above my head; the pleasant 
 breath of groves and flowery perfumes came on the waters ; a 
 distant sound of sweet voices lingered on the air. Like one 
 TOUsed from a frightful dream, I could scarcely believe that 
 this was reality. But the rolling waters behind gave me sud- 
 den evidence. A biUow, the last messenger of the storm, 
 burst into the little bay, filled it to the brim with foam, and 
 
 319 
 
XLatvs XTbou tTill 1 dome 
 
 B ainfet Spot tossed me far forward. It rolled back, dragging with it the 
 sedge and pebbles of the beach. I grasped the trunk of an 
 olive, rough and firm as the rock itself. The retiring waves 
 left me ; I felt my way some paces among the trees, cast my- 
 self down, and, worn out with fatigue, had scarcely reached 
 their shade when I fainted. 
 
 I awoke in the decline of the day, as I could perceive by 
 the yellow and orange hues that colored the thick branches 
 above me. I was lying iu a delicious recess, crowded with 
 fruit-trees ; my bed was the turf, but it was soft as down ; a 
 solitary nightingale above my head was sending forth snatches 
 of that melody which night prolongs into the very voice of 
 sweetness and sorrow ; and a balmy air from the wild thyme 
 and blossoms of the rose breathed soothingly even to the 
 mind. 
 
 I had been thrown on one of the little isles that lie off An- 
 thzedon, a portion of the Philistine territory before it was 
 won by our hero the Maccabee. The commerce which once 
 filled the arm of the sea near Gaza had perished in the change 
 of masters, and silence and seclusion reigned iu a spot for- 
 merly echoing with the tumult of merchant and mariner. The 
 little isle, the favorite retreat of the opulent Greek and Syrian 
 traders in the overpowering heats of summer, and cultivated 
 with the lavish expenditure of commercial wealth, now gave 
 no proof of its ever having felt the foot of man, but in the 
 spontaneous exuberance of flowers, once brought from every 
 region of the East and West, and the exquisite fruits that 
 still glowed on its slopes and dells. 
 
 In all things else Nature had resumed her rights ; the gilded 
 pavilions', the temples of Parian and Numidian stone, were in 
 ruins, and buried under a carpet of roses and myrtles. The 
 statues left but here and there a remnant of themselves, a 
 lovely relic, wreathed over in fantastic spirals by the clematis 
 and other climbing plants. The sculptured fountain let its 
 waters loose over the ground, and the guardian genius that 
 hung in marble beauty over the spring had long since re- 
 signed his charge and lay mutilated and discolored with the 
 air and the dew. But the spring still gushed, bounding 
 
 330 
 
B JButnlng ;rtltem« 
 
 bright between the gray fissures of the cliff, and marking its » Kefufle 
 course through the plain by the richer mazes of green. 
 
 To me, who was as weary of existence as ever was galley- 
 slave, this spot of quiet loveliness had a tenfold power. My 
 mind, like my body, longed for rest. 
 
 Through life I had walked in a thorny path ; my ambition 
 had winged a tempestuous atmosphere. Useless hazards, wild 
 projects, bitter sufferings, were my portion. Those feelings 
 in which alone I could be said to live had all been made 
 inlets of pain. The love which nature and justice won from 
 me to my family was perpetually thwarted by a chain of 
 circumstances that made me a wretched, helpless, and soli- 
 tary man. What then could I do better than abandon the 
 idle hope of finding happiness among mankind ; break off the 
 trial, which must be prolonged only to my evil ; and elude the 
 fate that destined me to be an exile in the world? Yes, I 
 would no longer be a man of suffering, in the presence of its 
 happiness; a wretch stripped of an actual purpose, or a 
 solid hope, in the midst of its activity and triumph ; the ab- 
 horred example of a career miserable with defeated pursuit, 
 and tantalized with expectations vain as the ripple on the 
 stream ! 
 
 In this stern resolve, gathering courage from despair — as 
 the criminal on the scaffold scoffs at the world that rejects 
 him — I determined to exclude recollection. The spot round 
 me was henceforth to fill up the whole measure of my 
 thoughts. Wife, children, friends, country, to me must exist 
 no more. I imaged them in the tomb ; I talked with them as 
 shadows, as the graceful and lovely existences of ages past, — 
 as hallowed memorials ; but labored to divest them of the in- 
 dividual features that cling to the soul. 
 
 Lest this mystic repose should be disturbed by any of the 
 sights of living man, I withdrew deeper into the shades 
 which first sheltered me. It was enough for me that there 
 was a canopy of leaves above to shield my limbs from the 
 casual visitations of a sky whose sapphire looked scarcely 
 capable of a stain, and that the turf was soft for my couch. 
 Fruits sufficient to tempt the most luxurious taste were fall- 
 
 2] 327 
 
TTarcs Ubou ZTfll H Come 
 
 I ®n tbe Sbotes ing round me, and the waters of the bright rivulet, scooped 
 . iBesiterranean iu the riud of citron and orange, were a draft that the epi- 
 cure might envy. I was still utterly ignorant on what shore 
 of the Mediterranean I was thrown, further than that the sun 
 rose behind my bower and threw his western luster on the 
 waveless expanse of sea that spread before it to the round 
 horizon. 
 
CHAPTER XU 
 The Granddaafffiier of Ananas 
 
 BiTT no man can be a philosopher against nature. With my Saiatwer* 
 strength the desire for exertion returned. My most voluptuous 
 rest became irksome. Memory would not be restrained ; the 
 floodgates of thought opened once more, and to resist the 
 passion for the ■world, I was driven to the drudgery of the 
 hands. I gathered wood for the winter's fuel, in the midst 
 of days when the sun poured fire from the heavens; I at- 
 tempted to build a hut, beside grottoes that a hermit would 
 love ; I trained trees and cultivated flowers where the soil 
 threw out all that was rich in both with exhaustless prodi- 
 gality. 
 
 Yet no expedient would appease the passion for the ab- 
 sorbing business of the world. My bower lost its enchant- 
 ment; the delight of lying on beds of violet, and with my 
 eyes fixed on the heavens, wandering away in rich illu- 
 sion, palled upon me ; the colors of the vision had grown dim. 
 I no longer saw shapes of beauty winging their way through 
 the celestial azure ; I heard no harmonies of spirits on the 
 midnight winds ; I followed no longer the sun, rushing on his 
 golden chariot-wheels to lands unstained by human step, or 
 plunged with him at eve into the depths and ranged the secret 
 wonders of ocean. 
 
 Labor in its turn grew irksome. I began to reproach my- 
 self for the vulgar existence which occupied only the inferior 
 portion of my nature ; living only for food, sleep, and shelter, 
 what was I better than the seals that basked on the shore at 
 my feet? Night, too — that mysterious rest, interposed for 
 purposes of such varied beneficence : to cool the brain, fevered . 
 by the bustle of the day; to soften mutual hostility, by a 
 pause to which all alike must yield; to rsmind our forgetful 
 
XCacri; Cbou ^ill It Come 
 
 Vbe Haiai* nature, by a perpetual semblance, of the time -when all things, 
 must pass away, and be silent, and sleep ; to sit in judgment 
 on our hearts, and by a decision which no hypocrisy can dis- 
 guise, anticipate the punishment of the villain, as it gives the 
 man of virtue the foretaste of his reward — night began to ex- 
 ert its old influence over me ; and with the strongest deter- 
 mination to think no more of what had been, I closed my 
 eyes but to let in the past. I might have said that my true 
 sleep was during the labors of the day, and my waking when 
 I lay, with my senses sealed, upon my bed of leaves. 
 
 It is impossible to shut up the mind, and I at last aban- 
 doned the struggle. The speU of iudolence once broken, I 
 became as restless as an eagle in a cage. My first object was 
 to discover on what comer of the land I was thrown. Noth- 
 ing could be briefer than the circuit of my island, and nothing 
 less explanatory. It was one of those little alluvial spots that 
 grow round the first rock that catches the vegetation swept 
 down by rivers. Ages had gone by, while reed was bound to 
 reed and one bed of clay laid upon another. The ocean had 
 thrown up its sands on the shore ; the winds had sown tree 
 and herb on the naked sides of the tall rock ; the tree had 
 drawn the cloud, and from its roots let loose the spring. 
 Cities and empires had perished while this little island was 
 forming into loveliness. Thus nature perpetually builds, 
 whUe decay does its work with the pomp of man. From the 
 shore I saw but a long line of yellow sand across a broad belt 
 of blue waters. No sight on earth could less attract the eye 
 or be less indicative of man. 
 
 Yet within that sandy barrier what wild and wondrous acts 
 might be doing, and to be done ! My mind, with a pinion 
 that no sorrow or bondage could tame, passed over the desert, 
 and saw the battle, the siege, the bloody sedition, the long 
 and heart-broken banishment, the fierce conflict of passions 
 irrestrainable as the tempest, the melancholy min of my 
 country by a judgment powerful as fate, and dreary and re- 
 turnless as the grave ! But the waters between me and that 
 shore were an obstacle that no vigor of imagination could 
 overcome. I was too feeble to attempt the passage by swim- 
 
 834 
 
Zbe (Bcand&augbtec ot Bnanus 
 
 ming. The opposite coast appeared to be uninhabited, and rananaweteb 
 the few fishing-boats that passed lazily along this lifeless ^"" 
 coast evidently shunned the island, as I conceived, from some 
 hidden shoal. I felt myself a prisoner, and the thought irri- 
 tated me. That ancient disturbance of my mind, which ren- 
 dered it so keenly excitable, was born again ; I felt its com- 
 ing, and knew that my only resource was to escape from this 
 circumscribing paradise that had become my dungeon. Day 
 after day I paced the shore, awaking the echoes with my use- 
 less shouts, as each distant sail glided along close to the sandy 
 line that was now to me the unattainable path of happiness. 
 I made signals from the hill, but I might as well have sum- 
 moned the vultures to stop as they flew screaming above my 
 head to feed on the relics of the Syrian caravans. 
 
 What trifles can sometimes stand between man and enjoy- 
 ment ! Wisdom would have thanked Heaven for the hope of 
 escaping the miseries of life in the little enchanted round, 
 guarded by that entrenchment of waters, filled with every 
 production that could delight the sense, and giving to the 
 spirit, weary of all that the world could offer, the gentle re- 
 tirement in which it could gather its remaining strength and 
 make its peace with Heaven. 
 
 .1 was lying during a fiery noon on the edge of the island, 
 looking toward the opposite coast, the only object on which I 
 could now bear to look, when, in the stillness of the hour, I 
 heard a strange mingling of distant sounds, yet so totally in- 
 distinct that, after long listening, I could conjecture it to be 
 nothing but the rising of the surge. It died away. But it 
 haunted me: I heard it in fancy. It followed me in the 
 mom, the noon, and the twilight; in the hour of toil and in 
 the hour when earth and heaven were soft and silent as an 
 infant's sleep — when the very spirit of tranquillity seemed to 
 be folding his dewy wings over the world. 
 
 Wearied more with thought than with the daily toil that I 
 imposed on myself for its cure, I had one night wandered to 
 the shore, and lain down imder the shelter of those thick 
 woven boughs that scarcely let in the glimpses of the moon. 
 The memory of all whom later chances brought in my path 
 
 839 
 
tracts ^bou XLill H Come 
 
 Safatwet passed before me — the fate of my gallant kinsmen in Masada, 
 *Tb?tt*'' of tte -wily Ishmaelite, of the pirate captain, of that imliappy 
 crew whose danger was my involuntary deed, of my family 
 scattered upon the face of the world. Arcturus, bending 
 toward the horizon, told me that it was already midnight, 
 when my reverie was broken by the same sounds that had 
 once disturbed my day. But they now came full and dis- 
 tinct. I heard the crashing of heavy axles along the road, 
 the measured tramp of cavalry, the calls of the clarion and 
 trumpet. They seemed beside me. I started from my sand, 
 but all around was still. I gazed across the waters ; they 
 were lying, like another sky, reflecting star for star with the 
 blue immensity above — but on them was no living thing. 
 
 I had heard of phantom armies traversing the air, but the 
 sky was serene as crystal. I climbed the hill, upon whose 
 summit I recollected to have seen the ruins of an altar ; gath- 
 ered the weeds, and lighted them for a beacon. The flame 
 thiew a wide and ruddy reflection on the waters and the sky. 
 I watched by it until mom. But the sound had died as 
 rapidly as it rose ; and when, with the first pearly tinge of 
 the east, the coast shaped itself beneath my eye, I saw with 
 bitter disappointment but the same solitary shore. The idea 
 of another day of suspense was intolerable ; I returned to my 
 place of refuge ; gave it that glance of mingled feeling, with- 
 out which perhaps no man leaves the shelter which he is never 
 to see again ; collected a few fruits for my sustenance, if I 
 should reach the desert ; and with a resolution to perish, if it 
 so pleased Providence, but not to return, plunged into the 
 sea. 
 
 The channel was even broader than I had calculated by the 
 eye. My limbs were still enfeebled, but my determination 
 was strength. I was swept by the current far from the op- 
 posite curve of the shore ; yet its force spared mine, and after 
 a long struggle I felt the ground under my feet. I was over- 
 joyed, tho never was scene less fitted for joy. To the ut- 
 most verge of the view spread the sands, a sullen herblesB 
 waste, glowing like a sheet of brass in the almost vertical sun. 
 
 But I was on land! I had accomplished my purpose. 
 
Zbe (Btanddaugbter of Bnanus 
 
 Hope, the power of exertion, the chances of glorious future Ube iReSbet 
 life, were before me. I was no longer a prisoner, within the "* 
 
 borders of a spot which, for all the objects of manly exist- 
 ence, might as well have been my grave. 
 
 I journeyed on by sun and star in that direction which, to 
 the Jew, is an instinct — to Jerusalem. Yet what fearful re- 
 verses, ia this time of confusion, might not have occurred 
 even there ! What certainty could I have of being spared the 
 bitterest losses, when sorrow and slaughter reigned through 
 the land? Was I to be protected from the storm, that feU 
 with such promiscuous fury upon all? I, too, the marked, 
 the victim, the example to mankind! I looked wistfully back 
 to the isle — that isle of oblivion. 
 
 While I was pacing the sand that actually scorched my 
 feet, I heard a cry, and saw on a low range of sand-hills, at 
 some distance, a figure making violent gestures. Friend or 
 enemy, at least here was man, and I did not deeply care for 
 the consequences, even of meeting man in his worst shape. 
 Hunger and thirst might be more formidable enemies in the 
 end; and I advanced toward the half -naked savage, who, 
 however, ran from me, crying out louder than ever. I 
 dragged my weary limbs after him, and at length reached the 
 edge of a little dell in which stood a circle of tents. I had 
 fallen among the robbers of the desert, but there was evident 
 confusion in this fragment of a tribe. The camels were in 
 the act of being loaded ; men and women were gathering their 
 household matters with the haste of terror ; and dogs, sheep, 
 camels, and children set up their voices in a general clamor. 
 
 Dreading that I might lose my only chance of refreshment 
 and guidance, I cried out with all my might, and hastened 
 down toward them ; but the sight of me raised a universal 
 scream, and every living thing took flight, the horsemen of 
 the colony gallantly leading the way, with a speed that soon 
 left the pedestrians far in the rear. But their invader con- 
 quered only for food. I entered the first of the deserted tents, 
 and indulged myself with a full feast of bread, dry and rough 
 as the sand on which it was baked, and of water, only less 
 bitter than that through which I had swiun. Still, all luxuiy 
 
 887 
 
XTarre Ubou ^fll f Come 
 
 H ©iri'a is relative. To me they were both delicious, and I thanked 
 
 appearance ^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ fortune which had provided so prodigally for 
 
 those withered monarchs of the sands, and had invested my 
 
 raggedness with the salutary terror that gave me the fruits 
 
 of triumph without the toil. 
 
 At the close of my feast, I uttered a few customary words 
 of thanksgiving. A cry of joy rang in. my ears ; I looked 
 round ; saw, to my surprise, a bale of carpets walk forward 
 from a comer of the tent, and heard a Jewish tongue implor- 
 ing for life and freedom. I rapidly developed the speaker, 
 and from this repulsive overture came forth one of the love- 
 liest yoimg females that I had ever seen. Her story was soon 
 told. She was the granddaughter of Ananus,*' the late high 
 priest, one of the most distinguished of his nation for every 
 lofty quality; but he had fallen on evil days. His resistance 
 to faction sharpened the dagger against him, and he perished 
 in one of the merciless feuds of the city. His only descend- 
 ant was now before me ; she had been sent to claim the pro- 
 tection of her relatives ia the south of Judea. But her escort 
 was dispersed by an attack of the Arabs, and in the division 
 of the spoil the sheik of this little encampment obtained her 
 as his share. The robber merchant was on his way to Caes- 
 area to sell his prize to the Eoman governor, when my ar- 
 rival put his caravan to the rout. To my inquiry into the 
 cause of this singular success, the fair girl answered that the 
 Arabs had taken me for a supernatural visitant, "probably 
 come to claim some account of their proceedings in the late 
 expedition." They had been first startled by the blaze in the 
 island, which by a tradition of the desert was said to be the 
 dwelling of forbidden beings. My passage of the channel was 
 seen, and increased the wonder ; my daring to appear alone, 
 among men whom mankind shunned, completed the belief of 
 my more than mortal prowess, and the Arabs' courage aban- 
 doned a contest in which "the least that could happen to them 
 was to be swept into the surge, or tossed piecemeal upon the 
 winds," 
 
 To prevent the effects of their returning intrepidity, no time 
 was to be lost in our escape. But the sun, which would have 
 
^be (BcandOaugbtet ot ananus 
 
 scorched anytMag but a lizard or a Bedouin to death, kept Ube sbefft'* 
 us prisoners until evening. We were actively employed in ' ^ * 
 the mean time. The plunder of the horde was examined, with 
 the curiosity that makes one of the iadefeasible qualities 
 of the fair iu all climates ; and the young Jewess had not been 
 an inmate of the tent, nor possessed the brightest eyes among 
 the daughters of women, for nothing. With an air between 
 play and revenge, she hunted out every recess in which even 
 the art of Arab thievery could dispose of its produce ; and at 
 length rooted up from a hole in the very darkest comer of the 
 tent that precious deposit for which the sheik would have sac- 
 rificed all mankind, and even the last hair of his beard — a bag 
 of shekels. She danced with exultation as she poured the 
 shining contents on the ground before me. 
 
 "If ever Arab regretted his capture," said she, "this most 
 unlucky of sheiks shall have cause. But I shall teach him at 
 least one virtue — repentance to the last hour of his life. I 
 think that I see him at this moment frightened into a phil- 
 osopher, and wishing from the bottom of his soul that he had, 
 for once, resisted the temptation of his trade." 
 
 "But what will you do with the laoney, my pretty teacher 
 of virtue to Arabs? " 
 
 " Give it to my preserver," said she, advancing, with a look 
 suddenly changed from sportiveness to blushing timidity; 
 "give it to him who was sent by Providence to rescue a 
 daughter of Israel from the hands of the heathen." 
 
 In the emotion of gratitude to me there was mingled a 
 loftier feeling, never so lovely as in youth and woman; she 
 threw up a single glance to heaven, and a tear of piety filled 
 her sparkling eye. 
 
 "But, temptress and teacher at once," said I, "by what 
 right am I to seize on the sheik's treasury? May it not di- 
 minish my supernatural dignity with the tribe to be known 
 as a plunderer? " 
 
 "Ha! " said she, with a rosy smile; "who is to betray you 
 but your accomplice? Besides, money is reputation and inno- 
 cence, wisdom and virtue, all over the world." 
 
 Touching, with the tip of one slender finger, my arm as it 
 
 839 
 
Carrs ^bou Uill t Come 
 
 ai flDa(!>en'« lav folded on my bosom, she waved the other hand, in atti- 
 tudes of untaught persuasion. 
 
 " Is it not true," pleaded the pretty creature, "that next to a 
 crime of our own is the being a party to the crime of others? 
 Now, for what conceivable purpose could the Arab have col- 
 lected this money? Not for food or clothing; for he can eat 
 thistles with his own camel, and nature has furnished him 
 with clothing as she has furnished the bear. The haik is only 
 an encumbrance to his impenetrable skin. What, then, can 
 he do with money but mischief, fit out new expeditions, and 
 capture other fair maidens, who can not hope to find spirits, 
 good or bad, for their protectors? If we leave him the means 
 of evil, what is it but doing the evil ourselves? So," con- 
 cluded this resistless pleader, carefully gathering up the spoil 
 and putting it into my hands, " I have gained my cause, and 
 have now only to thank my most impartial judge for his pa- 
 tient hearing." 
 
 There is a magic in woman. No man, not utterly degraded, 
 can listen without delight to the accents of her guileless heart. 
 Beauty, too, has a natural -lower over the mind, and it is right 
 that this should be. All that overcomes selfishness — the be- 
 setting sin of the world — is an instrument of good. Beauty 
 is but melody of a higher kind, and both alike soften the 
 troubled and hard nature of man. Even if we looked on 
 lovely woman but as on a rose, an exquisite production of the 
 summer hours of life, it would be idle to deny her influence 
 in making even those summer hours sweeter. But as the 
 companion of the mind, as the very model of a friendship 
 that no chance can shake, as the pleasant sharer of the heart 
 of heart, the being to whom man returns after the tumult of 
 the day, like the worshiper to a secret shrine, to revive his 
 nobler tastes and virtues at a source pure from the evil of the 
 external world, where shall we find her equal, or what must 
 be our feelings toward the mighty Disposer of earth, and all 
 that inhabit it, but of admiration and gratitude for that dis- 
 posal which thus combines our fondest happiness with oui 
 purest virtue? 
 
 KKD OT BOOK IX. 
 
 830 
 
CHAPTER XLH 
 
 Naomi's Story 
 
 The evening came at last; the burning calm was followed ^ibe 
 by a breeze breathing of life, and on the sky sailed, as if it ''"if^J*"'* 
 ■were wafted by that gentle breeze, the evening star. The 
 lifeless silence of the desert now began to be broken by a 
 variety of sounds, wild and sad enough in themselves, but 
 softening by distance, and not ill suited to that decliniug hour 
 which is so natural an emblem of the decline of life. The 
 moaning of the shepherd's horn; the low of the folding herds; 
 the long, deep cry of the camel ; even the scream of the vul- 
 ture wheeling home from some recent wreck on the shore, and 
 the howl of the jackal venturing out on the edge of dusk, came 
 with no unpleasing melancholy upon the wind. We stood ga- 
 zing impatiently from the tent door, at the west, that still 
 glowed like a furnace of molten gold. 
 
 " Will that sun never go down? " I exclaimed. "We must 
 wait his leisure, and he seems determined to tantalize us." 
 
 " Yes ; like a rich old man, determined to try the patience 
 of his heirs, and more tenacious of his wealth the more his 
 powers of enjoyment decay," said the Jewess. 
 
 "Philosophy from those young lips ! Yet the desert is the 
 place for a philosopher." 
 
 "That I deny," said my sportive companion. "Philosophy 
 is good for nothing where it has nothing to ridicule, and where 
 it will be neither fed nor flattered. Its true place is the world, 
 as much as the true place of yonder falcon is wherever it can 
 find anything to pounce upon. Here your philosopher must 
 labor for himself and laugh at himself — an indulgence in 
 which he is the most temperate of men. In short, he is fit 
 only for the idle, gay, ridiculous, and timid world. The des- 
 ert is the soil for a much nobler plant. If you would train a 
 poet into flower, set him here." 
 
tiarrs Tlbou Hill H Gome 
 
 H saugbtet of " Or a plunderer. " 
 
 "No doubt. They are sometimes much the same." 
 
 " Yet the desert produces nothing — but Arabs." 
 
 "There are some minds, even among Arabs, and some of 
 their rhapsodies are beauty itself. The very master of this 
 tent, who fought and killed, I dare not say how many, to se- 
 cure so precious a prize as myself, and who, after all his 
 heroism, would have sold me into slavery for life, spent half 
 his evenings sitting at this door chanting to every star of 
 heaven, and riming, witii teai-s in his eyes, to all kinds of 
 tender remembrances." 
 
 " But perhaps he was a genius, a heaven-born accident, and 
 his merit was the more in being a genius in the midst of such 
 a scene." 
 
 " Ifo — everythiQg round us this hour is poetry. The silence 
 — those broken sounds that make the silence more striking as 
 they decay — those fiery continents of cloud, the empire of that 
 greatest of sheiks, the sun, lord of the red desert of the air — 
 the immeasurable desert below. Vastness, obscurity, and ter- 
 ror, the three spirits that work the prof oundest wonders of the 
 poet, are here in their native region. And now," she said, 
 with a look that showed there were other spells than poetry 
 to be found in the desert, " to release you, I know, by signs 
 infallible, that the sun is setting." 
 
 I could not avoid laughing at the mimic wisdom with which 
 she announced her discovery, and asked whence she had ac- 
 quired the faculty of solving such rare problems. 
 
 "Oh, by my incomparable knowledge of the stars." She 
 pointed to the eastern sky, on which they began to cluster in 
 showers of diamond. "I have to thank the desert for it; 
 and," she added, with a slight submission of voice, " for every- 
 thing. I am a daughter of the desert; the first sight that I 
 saw was a camel ; my early, my only accomplishments were 
 to ride, sing Bedouin songs, tell Bedouin stories, and tame 
 a young panther. But my history draws to a close. While 
 I was supreme in the graces of a savage, had learned to sit a 
 dromedary, throw the lance, make haiks, and gallop for a 
 week together, love, resistless love, came in my way. The 
 
 S34 
 
■Raoml's StotB 
 
 son of a sheik, lieir to a hundred quarrels and ten thousand •naomt 
 sheep, goats, and horses, claimed me as his natural prey. I *^°"'stjf4*^' 
 shrank from a husband even more accomplished than myself, 
 and was meditating how to make my escape, whether into the 
 wilderness or into the bottom of the sea, when a summons 
 came which, or the money that came with it, the sheik found 
 irresistible. And now my history is at an end." 
 
 "And so," said I, to provoke her to the rest of her narra- 
 tive, "your story ends, as usual, with marriage. You, of 
 course, finding that you had nothing to prevent your leaving 
 the desert, took the female resolution of remaining in it, and 
 as you might discard the young sheik at your pleasure, re- 
 fused to have any other human being." 
 
 " Can you think me capable of such a horror? " 
 
 She stamped her little foot in indignation on the ground; 
 then turning on me with her flashing eye, penetrated the 
 stratagem at once by my smile. 
 
 " Then hear the rest. I instantly mounted my dromedary, 
 galloped for three days without sleep, and at length saw the 
 towers of Jerusalem — glorious Jerusalem. I passed through 
 crowds that seemed to me a gathering of the world; streets 
 that astonished me with a thousand strange sights; and, 
 overwhelmed with magniflcence, delight, and fatigue, arrived 
 at a palace, where I was met by a host of half-adoring do- 
 mestics, and was led to the most venerable and beloved of 
 wise and holy men, who caught me to his heart, called me his 
 Naomi, his child, his hope, and shed tears and blessings on 
 my head, as the sole survivor of his illustrious line." She 
 burst into tears. 
 
 The recollection of the good and heroic high priest was 
 strong with us both, and in silence I suffered her sorrows to 
 have their way. A faint echo of horns aad voices roused me. 
 
 " Look to the hills I " I exclaimed, as I saw a long black line 
 creeping, like a march of ants, down the side , of a distant 
 ridge of sand. 
 
 "Those are our Arabs," said she, without a change of coun- 
 tenance. "They are, of course, coining to see what the angel, 
 or demon, who visited them to-day has left in witness of hi3 
 
 335 
 
Umvq Oibou tim H Come 
 
 "Bbe Spirftes presence. But from what I overlieard of their terrors, no 
 
 SUeia 
 
 Arab will venture near the tents till night ; night, the general 
 veil of the iniquities of this amusing and very wicked world." 
 
 " Yet how shall we traverse the sands on foot? " 
 
 "Forbid it, the spirit of romance," said she. "I must see 
 whether the gallantry of the sheik has not provided against 
 that misfortune." 
 
 She flew into the tent, and, drawing back a curtain, showed 
 me two mares, of the most fam.ous breed of Arabia. 
 
 "Here are the Koshlani," said she, with playful malice 
 dancing in her eyes ; " I saw them brought in, in triumph, 
 last night, stolen from the pastures of Achmet Ben Ali him- 
 self, first horse-stealer and prince of the Bedouins, who is 
 doubtless by this time half dead of grief at the loss of the two 
 gems of his stud. I heard the achievement told with great 
 rejoicings, and a very curious specimen of dexterity it was. 
 Come forth," said she, leading out two beautiful animals, 
 white as milk ; " come forth, you two lovely orphans of the 
 true breed of Solomon — princesses with pedigrees that put 
 kings to shame, unless they can go back two thousand years ; 
 birds of the Bedouin, with wings to your feet, stars for 
 eyes, and ten times the sense of your masters in your little 
 tossing heads." 
 
 She sprang upon her courser, and winded it with the delight 
 of practised skill. The Arabs were now but a few miles off 
 and in full gallop toward us. I urged her to ride away at 
 once, but she continued curveting and maneuvering her spir- 
 ited steed, that, enjoying the free air of the desert after 
 having been shut up so long, threw up its red nostrils and 
 boanded like a stag. 
 
 " A moment yet," said she ; " I have not quite done with 
 the Arab. It is certainly bad treatment for his hospitality to 
 have plundered him of his dinner, his money, and his horses." 
 
 "And of his captive, a loss beyond all reparation." 
 
 "I perfectly believe so," was the laughing answer; "but I 
 have been thinking of making him a reparation which any 
 Arab on earth would think worth even my charms. I have 
 been contriving how to make his fortune." 
 
 8S8 
 
maomt'a Stors 
 
 " By returning Ms shekels? " Ube siasinff 
 
 "Not a grain of them shall he ever see. No, he shall not 
 have the sorrow to think that he entertained only a princess 
 and a philosopher. As a spirit you came, and as a spirit you 
 shall depart, and he shall have the honor of telling the tale. 
 The national stories of such matters are worn out ; he shall 
 have a new one of his own, and every emir in the kingdoms 
 of Ishmael — through the fiery sands of Ichama, the riverless 
 mountains of Nejd; Hejaz, the country of flies and fools; and 
 Yemen, the land of locusts, lawyers, and merchants, will re- 
 joice to have him at his meal. Thus the man's fortune is 
 made, for there is no access to the heart like that of being 
 necessary to the dinners and dulness of the mighty." 
 
 "Or on the strength of the wonder," said I, "he may make 
 wonders of his own, turn charlatan of the first magnitude, 
 profess to cure the incurable, and get solid gold for empty 
 pretension ; sell health to the epicure, gaiety to the old, and 
 charms to the repulsive ; defy the course of nature, and live 
 like a prince upon the exhaustless revenue of human ab- 
 surdity." 
 
 A cloud of smoke now wreathed up from the sheik's tent; 
 fire followed ; and even while we looked on, the wind, carry- 
 ing the burning fragments, set the whole camp in a blaze. 
 The Arabs gave a universal shriek and fled back, scattering 
 with gestures and cries of terror through the sands. 
 
 "There — there," said my companion, clapping her delicate 
 white palms in exultation; "let them beware of making wom- 
 en captives in future. In my final visit to the tent I put a 
 firebrand into the very bundle of carpets in which I played 
 the part of slave." 
 
 "Not to be your representative, I presume." 
 
 " Yes, with only the distinction that in time I should have 
 been much the more perilous of the two. If that unlucky 
 sheik had dared to keep me a week longer in his detestable 
 tent, I should have raised a rebellion in the tribe, dethroned 
 him, and turned princess on my own account. As to burning 
 TiiTTi out, there was no remedy. But for those flames the tribe 
 would have been upon our road. But for those flames w« 
 
 22 837 
 
 Uente 
 
Uatts Ubou ;ril[ f Come 
 
 jforwarti! might even have been mistaken for mere mortals; and your 
 spirits always vanish as we do, in fire and smoke. How 
 nobly those tents blaze! Now, forward! " 
 
 She gave the reins to her barb, flung a triumphant gesture 
 toward the burning camp, and under cover of a huge sheet of 
 fiery vapor we darted into the wilderness. 
 
CHAPTER XLm 
 
 'Before cMasada 
 
 OuH flight lay toward Masada. The stars -were brilliant ■naomt's 
 guides, and the coolness of the Arabian night, which forms so ®'^^"*"** 
 singular a contrast to the overpowering ardors of the day, re- 
 lieved us from the chief obstacle of desert travel. At day- 
 break we reached a tract, whose broken and burnt-up ground 
 showed that there had lately encamped the army the sound of 
 whose march had startled my reveries in the island. 
 
 It was evening when I caught the glimpse of the fortress. 
 My heart trembled at the sight. An impression of evil was 
 upon me. Yet I must go on or die. 
 
 "There," said I, "you see my home, and yours while you 
 desire it. You will find friends delighted to receive you, and 
 a protection that neither Eoman nor Arab can insult. Heaven 
 grant that all may be as when I left Masada! " 
 The fair girl gratefully thanked me. 
 
 "I have been long," said she, "unused to kindness, and its 
 voice overpowers me. But if the duty, the gratitude, the 
 faithful devotedness of the orphan to her generous preserver 
 can deserve protection, I shall yet have some claim. Suffer 
 me to be your daughter." 
 
 She bowed her head before me with filial reverence. I took 
 the outstretched hand, that quivered in mine, and pressed it 
 to my lips. The sacred compact was pledged in the sight of 
 the stars. More formal treaties have been made, but few sin- 
 cerer. 
 
 We rapidly advanced to the foot of the ridge that, now de- 
 fining and extending, showed its well-known features in aU 
 their rugged grandeur. But to come within reach of the 
 gates, I had still one of the huge buttresses of the mountain 
 to go round. My companion, with the quick sympathy that 
 
iXacrs dbou tiui IT Come 
 
 Signg makes one of tlie finest charms of women, already shared in 
 my ominous fears, and rode by my side without a word. My 
 eyes were fixed on the ground. I was roused by a clash of 
 warlike music. The suspense was terribly at an end. 
 
 The spears of a legion were moving in a glittering line 
 down the farther declivity. Squadrons of horses in marching 
 order were drawn up on the plain. The baggage of a little 
 army lay under the eye, waiting for the escort now descend- 
 ing from the fortress. The story of my ruin was told in that 
 single glance. All was lost! 
 
 The walls of the citadel, breached in every direction, gave 
 signs of a long siege. The White Stag of Naphtali no longer 
 lifted its blazon on the battlements ; dismantling and desola- 
 tion were there. But what horrors must have been wrought 
 before the Romans could shake the strength of those walls ! 
 
 First and most fearful, what had been the fate of Miriam 
 and my children? In what grave was I to look for my noble 
 brother and my kinsmen? 
 
 Conscious that to stay was to give myself and my trembling 
 companion to the cruel mercy of Rome, I yet was unable to 
 leave the spot. I hovered round it, as the spirit might hover 
 round the tomb. Maddening with bitter yearnings of heart, 
 that intense eagerness to know the worst which is next to 
 despair, I spurred up the steep by an obscure path that led 
 me to a postern. There was no sound within. I dashed 
 through the streets. Not a living being was to be seen ; piles 
 of firewood lighted under the principal buildings and at the 
 gates showed that the fortress was destined to immediate 
 overthrow. War had done its worst. The broad, sanguine 
 plashes on the pavements showed that the battle had been 
 fought, long and desperately, within the walls. The famous 
 armory was a heap of ashes. Ditches dug across the streets 
 and strewed with broken weapons, and the white remnants of 
 what once was man ; walls raised within walls, and now broken 
 down; stately houses loopholed and turned into little for- 
 tresses; fragments of noble architecture blocking up the 
 breaches; graves dug in every spot where the spade could 
 open a few feet of ground; fragments of superb furnitura 
 
 840 
 
JSefote ^aeada 
 
 lying half burnt -where the defenders had been forced out by SaiatMet 
 conflagration — all gave sad evidence of the struggle of brave *'**' *"*"' 
 men against overpowering numbers. 
 
 But where were they who had made the prize so dear to the 
 conquerors? Was I treading on the clay that once breathed 
 patriotism and love? Did the wreck on which I leaned, as I 
 gazed round this mighty mausoleum, cover the earthly tene- 
 ment of my kinsmen, and, still dearer, the last of my name? 
 Was I treading on the grave of those gentle and lovely na- 
 tures for whose happiness I would rejoicingly have laid down 
 the scepter of the world? 
 
 In my agitation I cried aloud. My voice rang through the 
 solitude round me, and returned on the ear with a startling 
 distinctness. But living sounds suddenly mingled with the 
 echo. A low groan came from a pile of ruins beside me. I 
 listened, as one might listen for an answer from the sepulcher. 
 The voice was heard again. A few stones from the shattered 
 wall gave way, and I saw thrust out the withered, bony hand 
 of a human being. I tore down the remaining impediments, 
 and beheld pale, emaciated, and at the point of death by fa- 
 mine, my friend, my fellow soldier, niy fellow sufferer — Jubal ! 
 
 Joy is sometimes as dangerous as sorrow. He gave a 
 glance of recognition, struggled forward, and, uttering a wild 
 cry, fell senseless into my arms. On his recovering, before 
 I could ask him. the question nearest my heart, it was an- 
 swered. 
 
 " They are safe — all safe," said he. " On the lauding of 
 fresh troops from Italy, the first efforts of the legions were 
 directed against the fortress. The pirates, in return for the 
 victory to which you led them, had set me at liberty. I made 
 my way through the enemy's posts; Eleazar, ever generous 
 and noble, received me, after all my wanderings, with the 
 heart of a father, and we determined on defending this glo- 
 rious trophy of your heroism, to the last man. But with the 
 wisdom that never failed him, he knew what must be the re- 
 sult, and at the very commencement of the siege sent your 
 family away to Alexandria, where they might be sure of pro- 
 tection from our kindred." 
 
 341 
 
Z&trs ^bou zm f Come 
 
 Saiatbiel'B " And they went by sea? " I asked shudderingly, while the 
 whole terrible truth dawned upon my miad. They were in 
 the fleet which I had followed. 
 
 " It was the only course. The country was filled with the 
 enemy." 
 
 "Then they are lost! Wretched father, now no father! — 
 man marked by destiny ! — the blow has fallen at last ! They 
 perished — I saw them perish. Their dying shrieks rang in 
 these ears. I was their destroyer. From first to last I have 
 been their undoing ! " 
 
 Jubal looked on me with astonishment. My adopted 
 daughter, without any idle attempt at consolation, only 
 bathed my hand with her tears. 
 
 "There must be some misconception ia all this," said 
 Jubal. "Before we left that accursed dungeon, they had 
 embarked with a crowd of females from the surrounding 
 country iu one of the annual fleets for Egypt. Before we 
 sailed from the pirates' cavern they were probably safe in 
 Alexandria." 
 
 "No! I saw them perish. I heard their dying cry. I 
 droTC them to destruction," was the only answer that my 
 withering lips could utter. I remembered the horrors of the 
 storm ; the desperate efforts of the merchant galley to escape ; 
 its fatal disappearance. Faintly, and with many a successive 
 agony, I gave the melancholy reasons for my belief. My 
 auditors listened with fear and trembling. 
 
 "There is now no use in sorrow," said Jubal sternly, "and 
 as little in struggle. I too have lived untU the light that 
 brightened my dreary hours is extinguished. I too have 
 known the extremities of passion. If suffering could have 
 atoned for my offenses, I have suffered. A thousand years 
 of existence could not teach me more. Here let us die." 
 
 He unsheathed his poniard. 
 
 My young companion, in the anxiety of the moment, for- 
 getting the presence of a stranger, flung back the veU which 
 had hitherto covered her face and figure, and clasping my 
 raised arm, said in a tone so low, yet penetrating, that it 
 seemed the whisper of my own conscience : 
 
 84a 
 
before /I&asa2>a 
 
 "Has deatli no fears?" She fixed her eyes on me and ■BaomCs 
 waited breathlessly for the answer. *" 
 
 "Daughter of beauty," said Jubal, as a smile of admiration 
 played on his sad features, " thoughts like ours are not for the 
 lovely and the young. May the Heaven that has stamped 
 that countenance be your protection through many a year! 
 But to the weary, rest is happiness, not terror. Prince of 
 Naphtali, this fair maiden's presence forbids darker thoughts; 
 we must speed her on her way to security before we can think 
 of ourselves and our misfortunes." 
 
 "The daughter of Ananus," said she, in atone of heroic 
 pride, "has no earthly feajs. The boldest warrior of Israel 
 never died more boldly than that venerable parent. Within 
 his sacred robes was the heart of a soldier, a patriot, and a 
 king. Let me die for a cause like his ; at the foot of the 
 altar, let my blood be poured out for my country ; let this 
 feeble form sink in the ruins of the Temple, and death will 
 be of all welcome things the most welcome. But I would not 
 die for a fantasy, for idleness, for nothing. Put up that 
 weapon, warrior, and let us go forth and see whether great 
 things are not yet to be done." 
 
 She significantly pointed toward Jerusalem. 
 
 "It is too late," said Jubal, glancing with a sigh at his own 
 wasted form. 
 
 " What? " said the heroine ; " is it too late to be virtuous, 
 but not too late to be guilty? Too late to resist the enemies of 
 our country, but not too late to make ourselves worthless to 
 our holy cause? If Heaven demands an account of every 
 wasted talent and misspent hour, what fearful account will 
 be theirs who make all talents and all hours useless at a 
 blow? " 
 
 " Maiden, you have not known what it is to lose everything 
 that made earth a place of hope," said I, gazing with wonder 
 and pity on the fine enthusiasm that the world is so fatally 
 empowered to destroy. " May not the tired traveler hasten 
 to the end of his journey without a crime? " 
 
 "May not the slave," said Jubal, "weary of his chain, es- 
 cape unchidden from his captivity? " 
 
 »4S 
 
V^atvs Tlbou UUI f Come 
 
 TOotfts of "And mav not the soldier quit Ms post when caprice dis- 
 gusts him with his duty? " was the maiden's answer, with a 
 lofty look. " Or, may not the child break loose from the place 
 of instruction and plead his dislike to discipline? As well 
 may man, placed here for the service of the highest of beings, 
 plead his own narrow will against the supreme command, 
 daringly charge Heaven with the injustice of setting him a 
 task above his strength, and madly insvilt Its power under 
 the pretext of relying on Its compassion." 
 
 She paused, as if surprised at her own earnestness, and 
 blushiug, said: "This wisdom is not my own. It was the 
 last gift of an illustrious parent, when in my agony at the 
 sight of his mortal wounds I longed to follow him. ' Live,' 
 said he, ' while you can live with virtue. The God who has 
 placed us on earth best knows when and how to recall us. If 
 self-destruction were no crime in one instance, it would be no 
 crime to universal mankind; the whole frame of society would 
 be overthrown by a permission to evade its duties on the easy 
 penalty of dying. Our obligations to country, family, man, 
 and Heaven would be perpetually flung off, if they were to 
 be held at the caprice of human nature.' " 
 
 Jubal looked intently on the young oracle, and tho bending 
 with Oriental deference, was yet unconvinced. 
 
 "Is there to be no end to the mind's anxiety but the tardy 
 decay of the frame? Is there no time for the return of the 
 exile, or what is this very feeling of despair but a voice within 
 — an unwritten command to die? " 
 
 Naomi turned to me with a look imploring my aid. But 
 I was broken down by the tidings that had now reached me. 
 Jubal wrapped his cloak round him, and was striding into the 
 shadow of the ruin. Naomi, terrified at the idea of death, 
 seized the corner of his mantle. 
 
 "Will you shrink from the evils of life," she adjured, 
 "and yet have the dreadful courage to defy the wrath of 
 Heaven? Shall worms like us, shall creatures covered with 
 weaknesses and sins, whose only hope must be in mercy, com- 
 mit a crime that by its very nature disclaims supplication and 
 makes repentance impossible? " 
 
 344 
 
^Before ASasada 
 
 With the energy of terror she threw back the folds of the •naomc* 
 cloak and arrested the hand, with the dagger already up- '^""'' 
 lifted. She led back the reluctant, yet unresisting, step, and 
 said in a voice still trembling: "Prince of Naphtali, save 
 your brother ! " 
 
 I held out my arms to Jubal ; the sternness of his soul was 
 past, and he fell upon my neck. Naomi stood, exulting in 
 her triumph, with the countenance that an angel might wear 
 at the return of a sinner. 
 
 "Prince of Naphtali," said she, "if those who were dear to 
 you have perished — which Heaven avert ! — you may have been 
 thus but the more marked out for the instrument of solemn 
 services to Israel. The virtues that might have languished 
 in the happiness of home may be summoned into vigor for 
 mankind. Warrior," and she turned her glowing smile on 
 Jubal, "this is not the time for valor and experience to shrink 
 from the side of our country. Perfidy may still be repelled 
 by patriotism ; violence put down by wisdom ; the power of 
 the people roused by the example of a hero ; even the last 
 spark of life may be made splendid by mingling with the last 
 glories of the people of God." 
 
 Jubal' s wasted cheek reddened with the theme; but his 
 emotion was too deep for language. He led the way; we 
 passed in silence through the deserted streets, and without see- 
 ing the face of a human being, reached the dismantled gates 
 of Masada. 
 
 845 
 
CHAPTER XLIV 
 Among 1(oman Soldiers 
 
 Betaite of a JuBAi. guided us down the declivities among ramparts and 
 trenches, and after long windings, where every step reminded 
 me of havoc, brought us to a little hamlet in the recesses of 
 the valley, so secluded that it seemed never to have heard the 
 sound of war. The thunder of the falling masses of fortifica- 
 tion, as the fire reached their props, kept us awake all night, 
 and I arose from my humble conch to breathe the delicious 
 air that makes the summer night of Asia the time of refresh- 
 ment alike to the frame and to the mind. I found Jubal 
 already abroad and gazing on the summit of the mountain, 
 where the sullen glare of the sky and the crash of buildings 
 showed that the work of devastation was rapidly going on. 
 
 He gave me some details of the siege. The Eomans had 
 found the fortress so hazardous to the advance of their reen- 
 forcements that its possession was essential to the conquest 
 of Judea. Cestius, my old antagonist, solicited the command 
 to wipe off his disgrace, and the whole force of the legions 
 was brought up. But the generalship of Eleazar and the 
 intrepidity of the garrison baffled every assault, with tre- 
 mendous loss of the enemy. The siege was next turned into 
 a blockade. Famiae and disease were more formidable than 
 the sword ; and the brave defenders were reduced to a number 
 scarcely able to man the walls. 
 
 "We now," said Jubal, "fought the battle of despair; we 
 saw the enemy's camp crowded every day with fresh troops, 
 and the provisions of the whole country brought among them 
 in profusion, while we had not a morsel to eat, while our 
 foimtains ran dry, and while our few troops were harassed 
 with mortal fatigue. Yet no man thought of surrender. 
 Eleazar' s courage — a courage sustained by higher thoughts 
 
 846 
 
among IRoman Sol&iets 
 
 than those of the soldier, the fortitude of piety and prayer — Vbe jfinat 
 inspired us all, and we went to our melancholy duties with "* 
 
 the calmness of men to whom the grave was ineTitable. 
 
 "At last, when our reduced numbers gave the enemy a 
 hope, we were attacked by their whole force. But, if they 
 expected to conquer us at their ease, never were they more 
 deceived. When the walls gave way before their machines, 
 they were fought from street to street, from house to house, 
 from chamber to chamber. Eleazar, as active as he was wise, 
 was everywhere ; we fought in ruins — in fire. Multitudes of 
 the enemy perished, and more deaths were given by the knife 
 than the spear, for our arms were long since exhausted. The 
 last effort was made on the spot where you found me. When 
 every defense was mastered by the constant supply of fresh 
 troops, Eleazar, passing through the subterranean to attack 
 the Roman rear, left me in command of the few who survived. 
 We entrenched ourselves in the armory. Eor three days we 
 fought without tasting food, without an hour's sleep, without 
 laying the weapons out of our hands. At length the final 
 assault was given. In the midst of it we heard shouts which 
 told us that our friends had made the concerted attack, but 
 we were too few and feeble to second it. The shouts died 
 away ; we were overpowered, and my first sensation of return- 
 ing life was the combined agony of famiue, wounds, and suf- 
 focation, under the ruins that I then thought my living 
 grave." 
 
 "By dawn," said I, "we must set out for Jerusalem." 
 
 "It has been closely invested," was the answer, "for the 
 last three months ;" and famine and faction are doing their 
 worst within the walls. Titus is without, at the head of a 
 hundred thousand of the legionaries and auxiliaries. To en- 
 ter will be next to impossible, and when once entered, what 
 will be before you but the madness of civil discord, and 
 finally, death by the hands of an enemy utterly infuriated 
 against our nation? " 
 
 "To Jerusalem, at all risks," I exclaimed; "my fate is 
 mingled with that of the last stronghold of our fallen people. 
 What matters it to one whose roots of happiness are cut up 
 
 347 
 
Uarcs Q:bou XTill IT Come 
 
 ■Cbe Hcrfvai of like miixe, in what spot lie struggles with man and fortune? 
 IRoman Oavalcv . i.xn -i , ■< j 
 
 As a son of Judea my powers are due to her cause, and every 
 
 drop of my blood, shed for any other, would be treason to the 
 
 memory of my fathers. The dawn finds me on my way to 
 
 Jerusalem." 
 
 " Spoken like a prince of Naphtali," sighed Jubal ; " but there 
 I must not follow you. The course of glory is cut off for me ; 
 alone, something may still be done by collecting the fugitives 
 of the tribes and harassing the Roman communications. But 
 Jerusalem, tho every stone of her walls is precious to my 
 soul, must not receive my guilty steps. I have horrid recol- 
 lections of things seen and done there. Onias, that wily 
 hypocrite, will be there to fill me with visions of terror. 
 There, too, are others." He was silent, but suddenly resu- 
 ming his firmness : " I have no hostility to Constantius ; I even 
 honor him ; but my spirit is stiU too feverish to bear his pres- 
 ence — I must live and die, far from all whom I have ever 
 known." 
 
 He hid his face in his mantle, but the agitation of his form 
 showed his anguish, more than clamorous grief. He walked 
 forth into the darkness. I was ignorant of his purpose, and 
 lingered long for his return — I saw Tiitti no more. 
 
 Disturbed and pained by his loss, I had scarcely thrown 
 myself on the cottage floor, my only bed, when I was roused 
 by the cries of the village. A squadron of Roman cavalry 
 marching to Jerusalem had entered, and was taking up its 
 quarters for the night. The peasantry could make no resist- 
 ance, and attempted none. I had only time to call to my 
 adopted daughter to rise, when our hut was occupied and we 
 were made prisoners. 
 
 This was an unexpected blow ; yet it was one to which, on 
 second thoughts, I became reconciled. In the disturbed state 
 of the country, traveling was totally insecure, and even to 
 obtain a conveyance of any kind was a matter of extreme diffi- 
 culty. The roving plunderers who hovered in the train of the 
 camp were, of all plunderers, the most merciless ; while, fall- 
 ing iato the hands of the legionaries, we were at least sure of 
 an escort; I might obtain some useful information of their 
 
 848 
 
among •Roman SolOters 
 
 affairs, and once in sigM of the city, might escape from the Saiatbiei wfew* 
 Koman Imes with more ease as a prisoner than I could pass satbacism 
 them as an enemy. 
 
 The cavalry moved at daybreak, and before night we saw 
 in the horizon the hills which surround Jerusalem. We had 
 fuU evidence of our approach to the center of struggle by the 
 devastation that follows the track of the best-disciplined 
 army — groves and orchards cut down, cornfields trampled, 
 cottages burned, gardens and homesteads ravaged. Farther 
 on, we traversed the encampments of the auxiliaries, barba- 
 rians of every color and language within the limits of the 
 mightiest of empires. 
 
 To the soldier of civilized nations, war is a new state of ex- 
 istence ; to the soldier of barbarism, war is but a more active 
 species of his daily life. It requires no divorce from his old 
 habits, and even encourages his old objects, cares, and pleas- 
 ures. We found the Arab, the German, the Scythian, and 
 the Ethiop hunting, carousing, trafficking, and quarreling, as if 
 they had never stirred from their native regions. The hordes 
 brought with them their families, their cattle, and their trade. 
 In the rear of every auxiliary camp was a regular mart 
 crowded with all kinds of dealers. Through the fields the 
 barbarians were following the sports of home. Trains of 
 falconers were flying their birds at the wild pigeon and heron. 
 Half-naked horsemen were running races, without saddle 
 or rein, on horses as wild and swift as the antelope. Groups 
 were lying under the palm-groves asleep, with their spears 
 fixed at their heads ; others were seen busily decorating them- 
 selves for battle ; crowds were dancing, gaming, and drinking. 
 
 As we advanced, we could hear the variety of clamors and 
 echoes that belong to barbarian war — the braying of savage 
 horns, the roars of mirth, rage, and feasting; the shouts of 
 clans moving up to reenforce the besiegers ; the screams and 
 lamentations of the innumerable women, as the wains and lit- 
 ters brought back the wounded; the barbarian bowlings over 
 the hasty grave of some chieftain; the ferocious revelry of the 
 discoverers of plunder, and the inextinguishable sorrows of 
 the captives. 
 
tTatcs ^bou tlill t Come 
 
 Cbe perfection We passed through some miles of this boisterous and bus- 
 ef Discipline ^.^^ scene, in which even a Eoman escort was scarcely a suffi- 
 cient security. The barbarians thronged round us, brandished 
 their spears over oui heads, rode their horses full gallop 
 against us, and exhausted the whole language of scorn, ridi- 
 cule, and wrath upon our helpless condition. 
 
 But the clamor gradually died away, and we entered upon 
 another region, — a zone of silence and solitude interposed be- 
 tween the dangerous riot of barbarism and the severe regu- 
 larity of the legions. Far withia this circle, we reached the 
 Eoman camp — the world of disciplined war! The setting 
 sun threw a flame on the long vistas of shield and helmet 
 drawn out, according to custom, for the hour of exercise be- 
 fore nightfall. The tribunes were on horseback in front of 
 the cohorts, putting them through that boundless variety of 
 admirable movements in which no soldiery were so dexterous 
 as those of Eome. 
 
 But all was done with characteristic silence. No sound 
 was heard but the measured tramp of the maneuver and the 
 voice of the tribune. The sight was at once absorbing to 
 the eye of one like me, an enthusiast in soldiership, and ap- 
 palling to the lover of his country. Before me was the great 
 machine, the resistless energy that had leveled the strength 
 of the most renowned kingdoms. With the feeling of a man 
 who sees the tempest at hand, in the immediate terror of the 
 bolt, I could yet gaze with wonder and admiration at the 
 grandeur of the thunder-cloud ! Before me was at once the 
 perfection of power and the perfection of discipline. Here 
 were no rambling crowds of retainers, no hurrying of troops 
 startled by sudden rumor, no military clamors. AH was calm, 
 regular, and grand. In the center of the most furious war 
 ever waged, I might have thought that I saw but a summer 
 camp in an Italian plain. 
 
 As the night fell, the legions saluted the parting sun with 
 homage, according to a custom which they had learned in 
 their eastern campaigns. Sounds less of war than of wor- 
 ship arose ; flutes breathed in low and sweet harmonies from 
 the lines; and this iron soldiery, bound on the business of ex- 
 
 350 
 
Binons 'Koman SolDicre 
 
 temunation, moved to their tents in the midst of strains made ttbe 
 to wrap the heart in softness and solemnity, SoteJers 
 
 I rose at dawn. But was I in a land of enchantment? I 
 looked for the immense camp — it had vanished. A few sol- 
 diers collecting the prisoners sleeping about the field were all 
 that remained of an army. Our guard explained the wonder. 
 An attack on the trenches, in which the besiegers had been 
 driven in with serious loss, determined Titus to bring up his 
 whole force. The troops had moved with that habitual si- 
 lence which eluded almost the waking ear. They were now 
 beyond the hills, and the hour was come when the prison- 
 ers were ordered to follow them. But where was the daugh- 
 ter of Ananus? I had placed her in a tent with some captive 
 females of our nation. The tent was struck, and its inmates 
 were gone ! On the spot where it stood a flock of sheep were 
 already grazing, with a Roman soldier leaning drowsily on his 
 spear for their shepherd. 
 
 To what alarms might not this fair girl be exposed? Du- 
 bious and distressed, I followed the guard, in the hope of 
 discovering the fate of an innocent and lovely being, who 
 seemed, like myself, marked for misfortune. 
 
 In this march we traversed almost the whole circuit of the 
 hills surrounding Jerusalem, and I thus had, for three days, 
 the opportunity that I longed for, of seeing the nature of the 
 force with which we were to contend. The troops were ad- 
 mirably armed. There was nothing for superfluity; yet 
 those who conceived the system knew the value of show, 
 and the equipment of the legions was superb. The helmets, 
 cuirasses, and swords were frequently inlaid with precious 
 metals, and the superior officers rode richly caparisoned 
 chargers, purchased at an enormous price from the finest studs 
 of Europe and Asia. The common soldier was proud of the 
 brightness of his shield and helmet ; on duty both were cov- 
 ered, but on their festivals the most cheering moment was 
 when the order was given to uncase their arms. Then noth- 
 ing could be more magnificent than the aspect of the legion. 
 
 One striking source of its pomp was the multitude of its 
 banners. Every emblem that mythology could feign, every 
 
 861 
 
^accs trbou trill H aome 
 
 Ube flDctbofig animal, eTery memorial connected "with the history of soldier- 
 ship and Eome, glittered above the forest of spears. Gilded 
 serpents, ■wolves, lions, gods, genii, stars, diadems, imperial 
 busts, and the eagle paramount over all, were mingled with 
 vanes of purple and embroidery. The most showy pageant of 
 civil life was dull and colorless to the crowded splendor of the 
 Roman line. 
 
 Their system of maneuver gave this magnificence its full 
 development. With the modem armies the principle is the 
 avoidance of fire. With the ancient armies the priuciple ■was 
 the concentration of force. All was done by impulse. The 
 figfure by which the greatest weight could be thro^wn against 
 the enemy's ranks, was the secret of victory. The subtlety 
 of Italian imagination, enlightened by Greek science, and fer- 
 tilized by the experience of universal war, was occupied in the 
 discovery ; and the field exercise of the legions displayed every 
 form into which troops could be shaped for -victory. The Eo- 
 mans always sought to fight pitched battles. They left the 
 minor services to their allies, and haughtily reserved them- 
 selves for the master strokes by which empires are lost or 
 won. The humbler hostilities, the obscure skirmishings and 
 surprises, they disdained; observing that, while "to steal 
 upon men was the work of a thief, and to butcher them was 
 the habit of a barbarian, to fight them was the act of a sol- 
 dier." 
 
CHAPTER XLV 
 'Jhe l^eiffn of the Sword 
 
 At the close of a weary day we reached our final station, "fffie "Crasft o* 
 upon the hill of Scopas, seven furlongs from Jerusalem. 
 Bitter memory was busy with me there. From the spot on 
 which I flung myself in heaviness of heart, huddled among a 
 crowd of miserable captives, and wishing only that the eve- 
 ning gathering over me might be my last, I had once looked 
 upon the army of the oppressors marching into my toils and 
 exulted in the secure glories of myself and my country. 
 
 But the prospect now beneath the eye showed only the 
 fiery track of invasion. The pastoral beauty of the plain was 
 utterly gone. The innumerable garden-houses and summer 
 dwellings of the Jewish nobles, gleaming in every variety of 
 graceful architecture, among vineyards and depths of aromatic 
 foliage, were leveled to the ground; and the gardens were 
 turned into a sandy waste, cut up by trenches and military 
 works in every direction. In the midst rose the great Eoman 
 rampart, which Titus, in despair of conquering the city by the 
 sword, drew round it, to extinguish its last hope of provisions 
 or reenforcements — a hideous boundary, within which all was 
 to be the sepulcher. 
 
 I now saw Jerusalem only in her expiring struggle. " Others 
 have given the history of that most memorable siege. My 
 knowledge was limited to the last hideous days of an exist- 
 ence long declining, and finally extinguished in horrors be- 
 yond the imagination of man. 
 
 I knew her follies, her ingratitude, her crimes ; but the love 
 of the city of David was deep in my soul ; her lofty privileges, 
 the proud memory of those who had made her courts glorious, 
 the sage, the soldier, and the prophet, lights of the world, to 
 which the boasted illumination of the heathen was darkness, 
 
 2.'? 353 
 
iTarts XTbou t^fd IT Come 
 
 Hfffgbtfna filled my sprit with an immortal homage. I loved her then — 
 
 To mingle my blood with that of my perishing country was 
 the first wish of my heart. But I was under the rigor of the 
 confinement inflicted on the Jewish prisoners. My rank was 
 soon known ; but while it produced offers of new distinction 
 from my captors, it increased their vigilance. To every temp- 
 tation I gave the same denial, and occupied my hours in 
 devices for escape. Meanwhile I saw with terror that the 
 wall of circumvallation was closing, and that a short period 
 must place an impassable barrier between me and the city. 
 
 I was aroused at midnight by the roaring of one of those 
 tempests which sometimes break in so fiercely upon an Eastern 
 summer. The lightning struck the tower in which I was 
 confined, and I found myself riding on a pile of ruins. Es- 
 cape, in the midst of a Roman camp, seemed as remote as 
 ever. But the storm which shook walls made its way at will 
 among tents, and the whole encampment was broken up. A 
 column of infantry passed where I was extricating myseK 
 from the ruins. They were going to reenforce the troops in 
 the trenches, against the chance of an attack during the tem- 
 pest. I followed them. The night was terrible. The light- 
 ning that blazed with frightful vividness, and then left the 
 sky to tenfold obscurity, alone led us through the lines. The 
 column was too late, and it found the besieged already mounted 
 upon the wall of circumvallation, and flinging it down in huge 
 fragments. The assault and defense were alike desperate. 
 At the moment of our arrival the night had grown pitchy 
 dark, and the only evidence that men were round me was the 
 clang of arms. 
 
 A sudden flash showed me that we had reached the foot of 
 the rampart The besieged, carried away by their native im- 
 petuosity, poured down in crowds. Their leader, cheering 
 them on, was struck by a lance and fell. The sight rallied 
 the Romans. I felt that now or never was the moment for 
 my escape. I rushed in front, and called aloud my name. 
 At the voice the wounded leader uttered a cry which I well 
 knew. I caught him from the ground. A gigantic centurion 
 
Cbe IRetgn of tbe SwotO 
 
 darted forward and grasped my robe. Embarrassed with my Saiatwei 
 burden, I was on the point of being dragged back ; the cen- conetanHus 
 turion's sword glittered over my head. With my only weapon, 
 a stone, I struck him a furious blow on the forehead. The 
 sword fell from his grasp ; I seized it, and keeping the rest at 
 bay, and in the midst of shouts from my countrym.en, leaped 
 the trench, with the nobler trophy in my arms — I had rescued 
 Constantius ! 
 
 Jerusalem was now verging on the last horrors. I could 
 scarcely find my way through her ruins. The noble buildings 
 were destroyed by conflagration and the assaults of the vari- 
 ous factions. The monuments of our kings and tribes were 
 lying in mutilation at my feet. Every man of former emi- 
 nence was gone. Massacre and exile had been the masters of 
 the higher ranks ; and even the accidental distinctions into 
 which the humbler were thrown by the few past years, in- 
 volved a fearful purchase of public hazard. Like men in an 
 earthquake, the elevation of each was only a sign to him. of 
 the working of an irresistible principle of ruin. But the most 
 formidable characteristic was the change wrought in the popu- 
 lar mind. 
 
 A single revolution may be a source of public good, but a 
 succession of great political changes is always fatal, alike to 
 public and private virtue. The sense of honor dies in the 
 fierce pressures of personal struggle. Humanity dies in the 
 sight of hourly violences. Conscience dies in the conflict 
 where personal safety is so often endangered that its preser- 
 vation at length usurps the mind. Religion dies where the 
 religious man is so often the victim of the unprincipled. 
 Violence and vice are soon found to be the natural instru- 
 ments of triumph in a war of the passions ; and the more re- 
 lentless atrocity carries the day, until selfishness — the mother 
 of treachery, rapine, and carnage — is the paramount principle. 
 Then the nation perishes, or is sent forth in madness and mis- 
 ery, an object of terror and infection, to propagate evil through 
 the world. 
 
 The very features of the popular physiognomy were changed. 
 The natural vividness of the countenance was there, but hard- 
 
 355 
 
tCarts Ubou titll ir Come 
 
 ttbe TOitccRg ened by habitual ferocity. I was surrounded by a multitude, 
 * * in each of whom I was compelled to see the assassiu. The 
 
 keen eye scowled with cruelty ; the cheek wore the alternate 
 flush and paleness of desperate thoughts. The hurried gath- 
 erings, the quick quarrel, the loud blasphemy, told me the in- 
 furiate temper that had fallen, for the last curse, on Jerusa- 
 lem. Scarcely a man passed me of whom I could not have 
 said: "There goes one from a murder or to a murder." 
 
 But even more open evidences startled me, accustomed as I 
 was to scenes of military violence. I saw men stabbed iu 
 familiar greetings in the streets; mansions set on fire and 
 burned in the face of day, with their inmates screaming for 
 help, and yet unhelped ; hundreds slain in rabble tumults, of 
 which no one knew the origin. The streets were covered with 
 the wrecks of pillage, sumptuous furniture plundered from the 
 mansions of the great, and plundered for the mere love of 
 ruin; mingled with the more hideous wrecks of man — ^im- 
 buried bodies, left to whiten in the blast or to be torn by the 
 dogs. 
 
 Three factions divided Jerusalem, even while the Eoman 
 battering-rams were shaking her colossal towers ; three armies 
 fought night and day within the city. Streets undermined, 
 houses battered down, granaries burned, wells poisoned, the 
 perpetual shower of death upon each other from the roofs, 
 made the external hostility trivial ; and the Romans required 
 only patience to have been bloodless masters of a city which 
 yet they would have found only a tomb of its people. 
 
 I wandered day by day, an utter stranger, through Jerusa- 
 lem. All the fam.iliar faces were gone. At an early period 
 of the war, many of the higher ranks, foreseeing the event, 
 had left the city; at a later, my victory over Cestius, by 
 driving back the enemy, had given a free passage to a crowd 
 of others. It was at that time remarked that the crowd were 
 chiefly Christians, and a singular prophecy of their Master was 
 declared to be the warning of their escape. It is certain that 
 of His followers, includuig many even of our priests and 
 learned men, scarcely one remained." They said that the evil 
 day, menaced by the divine Wisdom, through Moses (may 
 
 S56 
 

 
 
 ^mM 
 
 
 
 ^1 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 ( f 
 
 ■^ 
 
 9|1 
 
 
 llM 
 
 
 
 
 '^^^^^; ' ^*w 
 
 ■HHiHHr:^ 
 
 I^M^^ 
 
 1 ^ .»:■, ... 
 
 
 
 1 ,,:!^ 
 
 
 II^HIHP^ i;^ui^^ l:L^«(ti^'iSyr-jlHi 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Wagoalla Company, ^. Y. and London. 
 
 I had rescued Constantius. 
 
 See page 355. 
 
tlbe TReign of tbe SworO 
 
 he rest in glory !) was come ; that the death of their Master Saiatwei 
 was the consummate crime; and that the Romans, the pre- 
 dieted nation of destroyers, the people "of a strange speech," 
 flying on "eagle wings from the ends of the earth," were al- 
 ready commissioned against a land stained with the blood of 
 the Messiah. 
 
 Fatally was the word of the great prophet of Israel accom- 
 plished; fearfully fell the sword, to smite away root and 
 branch ; solemnly, and by a hand which scorned the strength 
 of man, was the deluge of ruin let loose against the throne of 
 David. And still through almost two thousand years, the 
 flood of desolation is at the full ; no mountaia-top is seen ri- 
 sing above; no spot is left clear for the sole of the Jewish 
 foot ; no dove returns with the olive. 
 
 Eternal King, shall this be forever? Wilt Thou utterly re- 
 ject the children of him whom thy right hand brought from 
 the land of the idolater? Wilt Thou forever hide Thy glary 
 from the tribes whom it led through the burning wilderness? 
 Wilt Thou never raise the broken kingdom of Thy servaat 
 Israel? Still we wander in darkness, the tenants of a piisan, 
 whose chains we feel at every step ; the scoff of the idolater, 
 the captive of the infidel. Have we not abided without king 
 or priest, or ephod or teraphim, "many days" — when are 
 those days to be at an end? 
 
 Yet is not the captivity at last about to close? Is not the 
 trumpet at the lip to summon Thy chosen? Are not the 
 broken tribes now awaiting but Thy command to come from 
 the desert, from the dungeon, from the mine, like the light 
 from darkness? I gaze upon the stars and think, countless 
 and glorious as they are, such shall yet be thy multitude and 
 thy splendor, people of the undone! The promise of the 
 King of Kings is fulfilling, and even now, to my withered 
 eyes, to my struggling prayer, to the deeper agonies of a sup- 
 plication that no tongue can utter, there is a vision and an 
 answer. On the flint, worn by kneeling, I hear the midnight 
 voice; and weeping, wait for the day that will come, 
 tho heaven and earth shall pass away. 
 
 807 
 
CHAPTER XLVI 
 
 A Cry of Wo 
 
 ^^gw Mt first object was to ascertain the fate of my family. 
 
 Setusalem From Constantius I could learn nothing, for the severity of 
 his wound had reduced him to such a state that he recognized 
 no one. I sat by him day after day, watching with bitter 
 solicitude for the return of his senses. He raved continually 
 of his wife, and of every other name that I loved. The af- 
 fecting eloquence of his appeals sometimes plunged me into 
 the deepest depression — sometimes drove me out to seek relief 
 from them, even in the horrors of the streets. I was the most 
 solitary of men. In those melancholy wanderings, none spoke 
 to me ; I spoke to none. The kinsmen whom I had left under 
 the command of my brave son were slain or dispersed, and on 
 the night when I saw him warring with his native ardor, the 
 men whom he led to the foot of the rampart were an acci- 
 dental band, excited by his brilliant intrepidity to choose him 
 at the instant for their captain. In sorrow, indeed, had I 
 entered Jerusalem. 
 
 The devastation of the city was enormous during its tu- 
 mults. The great factions were reduced to two, but in the 
 struggle a large portion of the Temple had been burned. 
 The stately chambers of the priests were dust and embers 
 The cloisters which surrounded the sanctuary were beaten 
 down or left naked to the visitation of the seasons, which 
 now, as by the peculiar wrath of heaven, had assumed a fierce 
 and omiaous inclemency. Tremendous bursts of tempest con- 
 stantly shook the city, and the popular mind was kept in per- 
 petual alarm at the accidents which followed those storms. 
 Fires were frequently caused by the lightning ; deluges of rain 
 flooded the streets, and falling on the shattered roofs, increased 
 the misery of their famishing inhabitants ; the sudden severity 
 
 358 
 
a Org ot Mo 
 
 of -vrinter in the midst of spring added to the sufferings of a » tinCwtMl 
 
 people doubly unprovided to encounter it, by its unexpected- 
 ness and by their necessao-y exposure on the battlements and 
 in the field. 
 
 Withiu the walls all bore the look of a grave, and even that 
 grave shaken by some great convulsion of nature. From the 
 battlements the sight was absolute despair. The Roman 
 camps covered the hills, and we could see the soldiery sharp- 
 ening the very lances that were to drink our blood. The fires 
 of their night-watches lighted up the horizon round. We 
 hourly heard the sound of their trumpets and their shouts, 
 as the sheep in the fold might hear the roaring of the lion 
 and the tiger, ready to leap their feeble boundary. Yet the 
 valor of the people was never wearied out. The vast mound, 
 whose circle was to shut us up from the help of man or the 
 hope of escape, was the grand object of attack and defense ; 
 and tho thousands of my countrymen covered the ground 
 at its foot with their corpses, the Jew was still ready to 
 rush on the Eoman spear. This valor was spontaneous, for 
 subordination had long been at an end. The names of John 
 of Giscala, and Simon, influential as they were in the earlier 
 periods of the war, had lost their force in the civil fury and 
 desperate pressures of the siege. No leaders were acknowl- 
 edged but hatred of the enemy, iron fortitude, and a deter- 
 mination not to survive the fall of Jerusalem ! 
 
 In this furious warfare I took my share with the rest; 
 handled the spear, and fought and watched without thinking 
 of any distinction of rank. My military experience, and the 
 personal strength which enabled me to render prominent serv- 
 ices in those desultory attacks, often excited our warriors to 
 offer me the command ; but ambition was dead within me. 
 
 I was one day sitting beside the bed of Constantius, and 
 bitterly absorbed in gazing on what I thought the progress of 
 death, when I heard a universal outcry, more melancholy than 
 human voices seemed ever made to utter. My first thought 
 was that the enemy had forced the gates. I took my sword 
 down and prepared to go out and die. I found the streets 
 filled with crowds hurrying forward without any apparent 
 
 859 
 
 (Sutcrs 
 
Zatrs Sbou Cill H dome 
 
 Too, Too, Too direction, but all exhibiting a sorro-w amounting to agony ; 
 wringing their hands, beating their bosoms, tearing their hair, 
 and casting dust and ashes on their heads. A large body of 
 the priesthood came rushing from the temple with loud 
 lamentations. The Daily Sacrifice had ceased! " The per- 
 petual offering, which, twice a day, burned in testimonial of 
 the sins and the expiation of Israel, the peculiar homage of 
 the nation to Heaven, was no more ! The siege had extin- 
 guished the resources of the Temple ; the victims could no 
 longer be supplied, and the people must perish without the 
 power of atonement ! This was the final cutting off — the dec- 
 laration of the sentence — the seal of the great condemnation. 
 Jerusalem was undone ! 
 
 Overpowered by thi.s fatal sign, I was sadly returning to 
 my worse than solitary chamber, for there lay, speechless and 
 powerless, the noblest creature that breathed in Jerusalem — 
 when I was driven aside by a new torrent of the people, ex- 
 claiming "The prophet! the prophet! wo to the city of 
 David!" 
 
 They rushed on in haggard multitudes, and in the midst of 
 them came a maniac bounding and gesticulating with inde- 
 scribable wildness. His constant exclamation was "Wo! 
 — wo ! — wo ! " uttered in a tone that searched the very 
 heart. He stopped from time to time, flung out some denun- 
 ciation against the popular crimes, and then recommenced his 
 cry of "Wo! " and bounded forward again. 
 
 He at length came opposite to the spot where I stood, and 
 his features struck me as resembling those I had seen before. 
 But they were full of a strange impulse — the grandeur of in- 
 spiration mingled with the animal fierceness of frenzy. The 
 eye shot fire under the sharp and hollow brows ; the nostrils 
 contracted and opened like those of an angry steed, and every 
 muscle of a singularly elastic frame was quivering and exposed 
 from the effects alike of mental violence and famine. 
 
 " Ho, Prince of Naphtali ! we meet at last ! " was his in- 
 stant outcry. His countenance fell, and tears gushed from 
 lids that looked incapable of a human feeling. "I found 
 her," said he, "my beauty, my bride! She was in the dun- 
 
 8«0 
 
& Qvs 01 mo 
 
 geon. The ring that I tore from that villain's fiuger was sabat tb« 
 ■worth a gold-mine, for it opened the gates of her prison. ■''*'""'«"*^ 
 Come forth, girl ! " 
 
 With these words he caught by the hand and led to me a 
 pale creature, with the traces of loveliness, but evidently in 
 the last stage of mortal decay. She stood silent as a statue. 
 In compassion, I took her hand, while the multitude gathered 
 round us in curiosity. I now remembered Sabat, the Ishmael- 
 ite, and his story. 
 
 "She is mad," said Sabat, shaking his head mournfully, 
 and gazing on the fading form at his side. " Worlds would 
 not restore her senses. But there is a time for all things." 
 He sighed, and cast his large eyes on heaven. " I watched 
 her day and night," he went on, "untU I grew mad too. But 
 the world will have an end, and then — all will be well. 
 Come, wife, we must be going. To-night there are strange 
 things within the walls, and without the walls. There will 
 be feasting and mourning; there will be blood and tears; then 
 comes the famine — then comes the fire — then the sword; and 
 then all is quiet, and forever! " 
 
 He paused, wiped away the tears, then began again wilder 
 than ever: "Heaven is mighty! To-night there will be won- 
 ders; watch well your walls, people of the ruined city! To- 
 night there will be signs; let no man sleep but those who 
 sleep in the grave. Prince of Naphtali, have you too sworn, 
 as I have, to die? " He lifted his meager hand. " Come, 
 thunders! come, fires! vengeance cries from the sanctuary. 
 Listen, undone people I listen, nation of sorrow 1 the ministers 
 of wrath are on the wing. Wo ! — wo ! — wo ! " 
 
 In pronoimcLng those words with a voice of the most sonor- 
 ous yet melancholy power, he threw himself into a succession 
 of strange and fearful gestures ; then beckoning to the female, 
 who submissively followed his steps, plunged away among the 
 multitude. I heard the howl of "Wo! — wo! — wo!" long 
 echoed through the windings of the ruined streets, and 
 thought that I heard the voice of the angel of desolation. 
 
 sm 
 
CHAPTER XLVn 
 
 The Struggle for Supremacy 
 
 Cbe Sicftncsa The seveuteentli day of the month Tamuz, ever memorable 
 in the sufferings of Israel, was the last of the Daily Sacrifice. 
 Sorrow and fear were on the city, and the silence of the night 
 was broken by the lamentations of the multitude. I returned 
 to my chamber of afliction, and busied myself in preparing 
 for the guard of the Temple, to withdraw my mind from the 
 gloom that was beginning to master me. Yet when I looked 
 round the room, and thought of what I had been, of the opu- 
 lent enjoyments of my palace, and of the beloved faces which 
 surrounded me there, I felt the sickness of the heart. 
 
 The chilling air that blew through the dilapidated walls, 
 the cruse of water, the scanty bread, the glinunering lamp, 
 the comfortless and squalid bed, on which lay in the last 
 stages of weakness a patriot and a hero — a being full of fine 
 affections and abilities, reduced to the helplessness of an in- 
 fant, and whom in leaving for the night I might be leaving 
 to perish by the poniard of the robber — unmanned me. I 
 cast the simitar from my hand, and sat down with a sullen 
 determination there to linger until death, or that darker ven- 
 geance which haunted me, should do its will. 
 
 The night was stormy, and the wind howled in long and 
 bitter gusts through the deserted chambers of the huge man- 
 sion. But the mind is the true place of suffering, and I felt 
 the season's visitation in my locks drenched about my face, 
 and my tattered robes swept by the freezing blasts, as only 
 the natural course of things. 
 
 I was sitting by the bedside, moistening the fevered lips of 
 Constantius with water, and pressing on him the last frag- 
 ment of bread which I might ever have to give, when I, with 
 sudden delight, heai-d him utter for the first time articulate 
 
 36a 
 
tCbe Struggle (oc Supremacy; 
 
 sounds. I stooped to catcli accents so dear and full of hope. Ube rptaser of 
 But the words were a supplication — he prayed to the Chris- 
 tian's God! 
 
 I turned away from this resistless con\dction of his belief. 
 But this was no time for debate, and I was won to listen 
 again. His voice was scarcely above a whisper, but his lan- 
 guage was the aspiration of the heart. His eyes were closed, 
 and, evidently unconscious of my presence, in his high com- 
 munion with Heaven, he talked of things of which I had but 
 imperfect knowledge or none ; of blood shed for the sins of 
 man ; of a descended Spirit to guide the servants of Heaven ; 
 of the unspeakable love that gave the Son of God to mortal 
 suffering for the atonement of that human guilt which nothing 
 but such a sacrifice could atone. He finished by the names 
 dear to us both ; and praying " for their safety if they still 
 were in life, or for their meeting beyond the grave, declared 
 himself resigned to the will of his Lord." 
 
 I waited in sacred awe until I saw, by the subsiding motion 
 of the lips, that the prayer was done, and then, anxious to 
 gain information of my family, questioned him. But with 
 the prayer the interval of mental power had passed away. 
 The veil was drawn over his senses once more, and his an- 
 swers were unintelligible. Yet even the hope of his restoration 
 lightened my gloom ; my spirits, naturally elastic, shook off 
 their leaden weight; I took up the simitar, and pressing the 
 cold hand of my noble fellow victim, prepared to issue forth 
 to the Temple. The storm was partially gone, and the moon, 
 approaching to the full, was high in heaven, fighting her way 
 through masses of rapid cloud. The wind still roared in long 
 blasts, as the tempest retired, like an army repulsed, and in- 
 dignant at being driven from the spoil. But the ground was 
 deluged, and a bitter sleet shot on our half -naked bodies. I 
 had far to pass through the streets of the upper city, and 
 their aspect was deeply suited to the melancholy of the hour. 
 
 Vast walls and buttresses of the burned and overthrown 
 mansions remained, that in the spectral light looked like 
 gigantic specters. Eanges of inferior ruins stretched to the 
 utmost glance ; some yet sending up the smoke of recent con- 
 
 363 
 
ttarre tlbou tCill IT Come 
 
 ■JibeBvenueg flagration, and others beaten down by the storms or left to 
 decay. The immense buildings of the hierarchy, once the 
 scene of all but kingly magnificence, stood roofless and win- 
 dowless, with the light sadly gleaming through their fissures, 
 and the wind singing a dirge of ruin through their halls. I 
 scarcely met a human being, for the sword and famine had 
 fearfully reduced the once countless population. 
 
 But I often startled a flight of vultures from their meal ; or, 
 in the sinking of the light, stumbled upon a heap that uttered 
 a cry, and showed that life was there ; or from his horrid mor- 
 sel, a wretch glared upon me, as one wolf might glare upon 
 another, that came to rob him of his prey; or the twinkling 
 of a miserable lamp in the comer of a ruin glimmered over a 
 knot of felony and murder, reckoning their hideous gains and 
 carousing with the dagger drawn. Heaps of bones, whitening 
 in the air, were the monuments of the wasted valor of my 
 countrymen, and the oppressive atmosphere gave the sensa- 
 tion of walking in a sepulcher. 
 
 I dragged my limbs with increased difficulty through those 
 long avenues of death that, black, silent, and split into a 
 thousand shapes of ruin, looked less like the streets of a city 
 than the rocky defiles of a mountain shattered by lightnings 
 and earthquakes. On the summit of the hill I found a crowd 
 of unhappy beings, who came, like myself, actuated by zeal to 
 defend the Temple from the insults to which its sanctity was 
 now nightly exposed. Faction had long extinguished the na- 
 tive homage of the people. Eattles had been fought within 
 its walls, and many a corpse loaded the sacred floors, that 
 once would have required solemn ceremonies to free them 
 from the pollution of an unlicensed step. 
 
 And what a band was assembled there ! Wretches muti- 
 lated by wounds, worn with sleeplessness, haggard with want 
 of food; shivering together on the declivity, whose naked 
 elevation exposed them to the whole inclemency of the night ; 
 flung like the dead, on the ground, or gathered in little knots 
 among the ruined porticos, with death in every frame and 
 despair in every heart. 
 
 I was sheltering myself behind the broken columns of the 
 
 364 
 
XLbe Sttu00le lot Suptemacs 
 
 Grand gate, from the bitter wind which searched every fiber, satatblet wfews 
 and was sinking into that chilling torpor which benumbs body pompofTOiat 
 and mind alike, when a clash of military music and the tramp 
 of a multitude assailed my ear. I started up and found my 
 miserable companions mustered, from the various hollows of 
 the hill, to our post on the central ground of Mount Moriah, 
 whence the view was boundless on every side. A growing 
 blaze rose up from the valley and flashed upon the wall of 
 cireumvallation. The sounds of cymbal and trumpet swelled ; 
 the light advanced rapidly ; and going the circuit of the wall, 
 helmets and lances of the cavalry were seen glittering through 
 the gloom ; a crowd of archers preceded a dense body of the 
 legionary horse, at whose head rode a group of officers. On 
 this night the fatal wall had been completed, and Titus was 
 going its round in triumph. Every horseman carried a torch, 
 and strong divisions of infantry followed, bearing lamps and 
 vessels of combustible matter on the points of their spears. 
 As the whole moved, rolling and bending with the inequal- 
 ities of the ground, I thought that I saw a mighty serpent, 
 ooUing his burning spires roimd the prey that was never to be 
 rescued by the power of man. 
 
 But the pomp of war below and the wretchedness round 
 me, raised reflections of such bitterness that when Titus and 
 his splendid troop reached the mountain of the Temple, one 
 outcry of sorrow and anticipated rui^^ burst from us all. The 
 conqueror heard it, and, from the instant maneuvering of his 
 troops, was evidently alarmed ; he had known the courage of 
 the Jews too long not to dread the effect of their despair. 
 And despair it was, fierce and untamable ! 
 
 I started forward, exclaiming : " If there is a man among 
 you ready to stake his life for his country, let him. follow 
 me." 
 
 To the last hour the Jew was a warrior! The crowd seized 
 their spears, and we sprang down the cliffs. As we reached 
 the outer wall of the city, I restrained their exhaustless spirit 
 until I had singly ascertained the state of the enemy. Titus 
 was passing the well-known ravine near the fountain-gate, 
 wheri the ground was difficult for cavalry, from its being 
 
 886 
 
traces tTbou ^tU H aome 
 
 Cbc ifiomat) chiefly divided into gardens. I flung open the gate, and led 
 the way to the eircumTallation. The sentinels, occupied 
 with looking on the pomp, suffered us to approach unper- 
 ceived ; we mounted the wall, overthrew everything before us, 
 and plunged down upon the cavalry, entangled in the ravine. 
 It was a complete surprise. 
 
 The bravery of the legions was not proof against the fury 
 of our attack. Even our wild faces and half -naked forms, by 
 the uncertain glare of the torches, looked scarcely human. 
 Horse and man rolled down the declivity. The arrival of 
 fresh troops only increased the confusion ; their torches made 
 them a mark for our pikes and arrows ; every point told, and 
 every Eoman that fell, armed a Jew. The conflict now be- 
 came murderous, and we stabbed at our ease the troopers of 
 the Emperor's guard, through their mail, while their long 
 lances were useless. 
 
 The defile gave us incalculable advantages, for the garden 
 walls were impassable by the cavalry, while we bounded over 
 them like deer. All was uproar, terror, and rage. We act- 
 ually waded through blood. At every step, I trod on horse or 
 man ; helmets and bucklers, lances and armor, lay in heaps, 
 and the stream of the ravine soon ran purple with the proud- 
 est gore of the legions. 
 
 At length, while we were absolutely oppressed with the 
 multitude of dead, a sudden blast of trumpets and the shouts 
 of the enemy led me to prepare for a still fiercer effort. A 
 tide of cavalry poured over the ground ; Titus, a gallant fig- 
 ure, cheering them on, with his helmet in his hand, galloped 
 in their front ; I withdrew my wearied followers from the ex- 
 posed situation into which their success had led them, and' 
 posting them behind a rampart of Roman dead, awaited the 
 charge. It came with the force of thunder; the powerful 
 horses of the imperial squadron broke over our rampart at the 
 first shock and bore us down like stubble. Every man of us 
 was under their feet in a moment ; and yet the very number 
 of our assailants saved us. The narrowness of the place gave 
 no room for the management of the horse ; the darkness as- 
 sisted both our escape and assault; and even lying on the 
 
 see 
 
Zbe Sttudgle for Supremacs 
 
 ground, we plunged our knives in horse and rider, with terrible Satatwel 
 retaliation. BttactaUCtu, 
 
 The cavalry at length gave way, but the Eoman general, a 
 man of the heroic spirit that is only inflamed by repulse, 
 rushed forward among the disheartened troops, and roused 
 them by his cries and gestures to retrieve their honor. After 
 a few bold words, he again charged at their head. I singled 
 him out, as I saw his golden helmet gleam in the torch-light. 
 To capture the son of Vespasian would have been a triumph 
 worth a thousand lives. Titus " was celebrated for personal 
 dexterity in the management of the horse and lance, and I 
 could not withhold my admiration of the skill with which he 
 penetrated the difficulties of the field, and the mastery with 
 which he overthrew all that opposed hrtn. 
 
 Our motley ranks were already scattering, when I cried out 
 my name and defied him. to the combat. He stooped over his 
 charger's neck to discover his adversary, and seeing before 
 hinn a being as blackened and beggared as the most dismantled 
 figure of the crowd, gave a laugh of fierce derision, and was 
 turning away, when our roar of scorn recalled him. He 
 struck in the spur, and couching his lance, bounded toward 
 me. To have waited his attack must have been destruction ; 
 1 sprang aside, and with my full vigor fiimg my javelin ; it 
 went through his buckler. He reeled, and a groan rose from 
 the legionaries who were rushing forward to his support. He 
 stopped them with a fierce gesture, and easting off the en- 
 tangled buckler, charged again. But the hope of the imperial 
 diadem was not to be thus cheaply hazarded. The whole circle 
 ■of cavalry rolled in upon us; I was dragged down by a hun- 
 dred hands, and Titus was forced away, indignant at the zeal 
 which had thwarted his fiery valor. 
 
 In the confusion I was forgotten, burst through the con- 
 course, and rejoined my countrymen, who had given me over 
 for lost, and now received me with shouts of victory. The 
 universal cry was to advance, but I felt that the limit of tri- 
 umph for that night was come ; the engagement had become 
 known to the whole range of the enemy's camps, and troops 
 without number were already pouring down. I ordered a re- 
 
 36T 
 
Q:arts tTbou Tlill IT Come 
 
 "Ctbeifiampart'a treat, but there was one remainmg exploit to make the night's 
 inuminatfon -1,1 or 
 
 service memorable. 
 
 Leaving a few hundred pikemen outside the circumvallation, 
 to keep off any sudden attempt, I set every hand at work to 
 gather the dry weeds, rushes, and fragments of trees from 
 the low grounds into a pile. It was laid against the rampart. 
 I flung the first torch, and pile and rampart were soon alike 
 in a blaze. Volumes of flame, carried by the wind, rolled 
 round its entire circuit. The Komans rushed down in multi- 
 tudes to extinguish the fire. But this became continually 
 more difficult. Jerusalem had been roused from its sleep, 
 and the extravagant rumors that a great victory was obtained, 
 Titus slain, and the enemy's camp taken by storm, stimulated 
 the natural spirit of the people to the most boundless confi- 
 dence. Every Jew who could find a lance, an arrow, or a 
 knife hurried to the gates, and the space between the walls 
 and the circumvallation was crowded with an army which, in 
 that crisis of superhuman exultation, perhaps -no disciplined 
 force on earth could have outfought. 
 
 Nothiag could now save the rampart. Torches innumer- 
 able, piles of faggots, arms, even the dead, all things that 
 could bum, were flung upon it. Thousands, who at other 
 times might have shrunk, forgot the name of fear, leaped 
 into the very midst of the flames, and tearing up the bla- 
 zing timbers, dug to the heart of the rampart and filled 
 the hollows with sulfur and bitumen; thousands^^truggled 
 across the tumbling ruins, to throw themselve^^'jamOng the 
 Roman spearsmen and see the blood of an enemy before 
 they died. 
 
 War never had a bolder moment. Human nature, roused 
 to the wildest height of enthusiasm, was lavishing life like 
 dust. The ramparts spread a horrid light upon the havoc; 
 every spot of the battle, every group of the furious living, and 
 the trampled and deformed dead, was keenly visible. The 
 ear was deafened by the incessant roar of flame, the falling 
 of the huge heaps of the rampart, and the agonies and exulta- 
 tions of men, reveling in mutual slaughter. 
 
 In that hour came one of those solemn signs that marked 
 
 808 
 
TTbe Struflflle toe Supremacie 
 
 the downfall of Jerusalem. The tempest, that had blown at Ube 
 
 intervals with tremendous violence, died away at once; anda*^*tbe"s»t" *" 
 
 surge of light ascended from the horizon and rolled up rapidly 
 
 to the zenith. The phenomenon instantly fixed every eye. 
 
 There was an indefinable sense in the general miud that a sign 
 
 of power and providence was about to be given. The battle 
 
 ceased; the outcries were followed by utter silence; the armed 
 
 ranks stood still, in the very act of rushing on each other ; all 
 
 faces were turned on the heavens. 
 
 The light rose pale and quivering like the meteors of a sum- 
 mer evening. But in the zenith, it spread and swelled into a 
 splendor that distinguished it irresistibly from the wonders of 
 earth or air. It swiftly eclipsed every star. The moon van- 
 ished before it ; the canopy of the sky seemed to be dissolved, 
 for a view into a bright and infinite region beyond, fit for the 
 career of those mighty beings to whom man is but the dust on 
 the gale. 
 
 As we gazed, this boundless field was transformed into a 
 field of battle ; multitudes seemed to crowd it in the fiercest 
 combat ; horsemen charged and died under their horses' feet ; 
 armor and standards were trampled in blood ; column and line 
 burst through each other. At length the battle stooped to- 
 ward the earth, and with hearts beating with indescribable 
 feelings we recognized in the fight the ban Tiers of the tribes. 
 It was Jew and Roman struggling for life ; the very counte- 
 nances of the combatants became visible, and each man below 
 saw a representative of himself above. The fate of Jewish 
 war was there written by the hand of Heaven ; the fate of 
 the individual was there predicted in the individual triumph 
 or fall. What tongue of man can tell the intense interest 
 with which we watched every blow, every movement, every 
 wound, of those images of ourselves? 
 
 The light now illumined the whole horizon below. The 
 legions were seen drawn out in fropt of the camps, ready for 
 action — every helmet and spear-point glittering in the radi- 
 ance ; every face turned up, gazing in awe and terror on the 
 sky. The tents spreading over the hills ; the thousands and 
 tens of thousands of auxiliaries and captives ; the little groups 
 
 34 869 
 
Zmvs ^bou trill t Come 
 
 B Breasfui of tte peasantry, roused from sleep by the uproar of the 
 *" night, and gathered upon the knolls and eminences of their 
 fields — all were bathed in a flood of preternatural luster. 
 But the wondrous battle approached its close. The vision- 
 ary Romans seemed to shake, column and cohort gave way, 
 and the banners of the tribes waved in victory over the 
 celestial field. Then human voices dared to be heard. From 
 the city and the plain burst forth one mighty shout of 
 triumph I 
 
 But our presumption was soon to be checked. A peal of 
 thunder that made the very ground tremble under our feet 
 rolled from the four quarters of the heaven. The conquering 
 host shook, broke, and fled in utter confusion over the sap- 
 phire field. It was pursued, but by no semblance of the 
 Boman. 
 
 An awful enemy was on its steps. Flashes of forked fire, 
 like myriads of lances, darted after it; cloud on cloud deep- 
 ened down, as the smoke of a mighty furnace ; globes of light 
 shot blasting and burning along its track. Then amid the 
 double roar of thunder rushed forth the chivalry of heaven. 
 Shapes of transcendent beauty, yet with looks of wrath that 
 withered the human eye — armed sons of immortality descend- 
 ing on the wing by millions — mingled with shapes and instru- 
 ments of ruin, for which the mind has no conception. The 
 circle of the heaven was filled with the chariots and horses of 
 fire. Flight was in vain ; the weapons were seen to drop from 
 the Jewish host ; their warriors sank upon the splendid field. 
 Still the immortal armies poured on, trampling and blasting, 
 until the last of the routed were consumed. 
 
 The angry pomp then paused. Countless wings were 
 spread, and the angelic multitudes, having done the work of 
 vengeance, rushed upward, with the sound of ocean in the 
 storm. The roar of trumpets and thunders was heard, until 
 the splendor was lost in the heights of the empyrean. 
 
 We felt the terrible warning. Our strength was dried up 
 at the sight ; despair seized upon our souls. We had seen the 
 fate of Jerusalem. No victory over man could now save us 
 from the coming of final ruin 1 
 
 870 
 
TTbe Struggle foe Supcemacs 
 
 Thousands never left the ground on whicli they stood; they Bespalt 
 perished by their own hands, or lay down and died of broken 
 hearts. The rest fled through the night, that again wrapped 
 them in tenfold darkness. The whole multitude scattered 
 with soundless steps, and in silence like an army of specters. 
 
 ra 
 
CaiAPTER XLVm 
 The Sting of a. Story 
 
 iin_ In the deepest deiection that could overwhelm the human 
 
 of «i9bt mind, I returned to the city, where one melancholy care stiU 
 bound me to existence. I hastened to my comfortless shelter, 
 but the battle had fluctuated so fax around the walls that I 
 found myself perplexed, among the ruins of a portion of the 
 lower city, a crowd of obscure streets which belonged almost 
 wholly to strangers and the poorer population. 
 
 The faction of John of Giseala, composed chiefly of the 
 more profligate and beggared class, had made the lower city 
 their stronghold, before they became masters of Mount Moriah ; 
 and some desperate skirmishes, of which conflagrations were 
 the perpetual consequence, laid waste the principal part of a 
 district built and ruined by the haste and carelessness of 
 poverty. To find a guide through this scene of dilapidation 
 was hopeless, for every living creature, terrified by, the awful 
 portents of the sky, had fled from the streets. The night 
 was solid darkness. No expiring gleam from the burned ram- 
 part, no fires of the Roman camps, no torch on the Jewish 
 battlements, broke the pitchy blackness. Life and light 
 seemed to have perished together. 
 
 To proceed soon became impossible, and I had no other 
 resource than to wait the coming of day. But to one accus- 
 tomed as I was to hardships, this inconvenience was trivial. 
 I felt my way along the walls, to the entrance of a house that 
 promised some protection from the night, and flinging myself 
 into a corner, vainly tried to slumber. But the rising of the 
 storm and the rain pouring upon my lair drove me to seek a. 
 more sheltered spot within the ruin. The destruction was- 
 so effectual that this was difiScult to discover, and I was hope- 
 lessly returning to take my chance in the open air when L 
 
 872 
 
Zbe Sting of a Stors 
 
 observed the glimmer of a lamp through a crevice ia the upper h Su^6en 
 part of the building. My first impulse was to approach and 
 obtain assistance. But the abraptness of the ascent gave me 
 time to consider the hazard of breaking in upon such groups 
 as might be gathered at that hour, in a period when every 
 atrocity under heaven reigned in Jerusalem. 
 
 My patience was put to but brief trial, for in a few min- 
 utes I heard a low hymn. It paused, as if followed by 
 prayer. The hymn began again, in accents so faint as evi- 
 dently to express the fear of the worshipers. But the 
 sounds thrilled through my soul. I listened, in a struggle of 
 doubt and hope. Could I be deceived? and if I were, how 
 bitter must be the discovery. I sat down at the foot of the 
 rude stair, to feed myself with the fancied delight before it 
 should be snatched from me forever. 
 
 But my perturbation would have risen to madness had I 
 stopped longer. I climbed up the tottering steps ; half-way I 
 found myself obstructed by a door; I struck upon it, and 
 called aloud. After an interval of miserable delay, a still 
 higher door was opened, and a figure enveloped in a veil 
 timidly looked out and asked my purpose. I saw, glancing 
 over her, two faces that I would have given the world to see. 
 I called out " Miriam ! " Overpowered with emotion, my 
 speech failed me. I lived only in my eyes. I saw Miriam 
 fling off the mantle with a scream of joy, and rush down the 
 steps. I saw my two daughters follow her with the speed of 
 love ; the door was thrown open, and I fell fainting into their 
 arms. 
 
 Tears, exclamations, and gazings were long our only lan- 
 guage. My wife hung over my wasted frame with endless 
 embraces and sobs of joy. My daughters fell at my feet, 
 bathed my cold hands with their tears, smiled on me in 
 speechless delight, and then wept again. They had thought 
 me lost to them forever. I had thought them dead, or 
 driven to some solitude which forbade us to meet again on 
 this side of the grave. For two years, two dreadful years, 
 a lonely man on eaarth, a wifeless husband, a childless fa- 
 ther, tried by every misery of mind and body ; here — here I 
 
 873 
 
^arre tibou EiU f Gome 
 
 UBe uerror found my treasure once more ! On this spot, wretched and 
 destitute as it was, in the midst of public misery and 
 personal wo, I had found those whose loss would have 
 made the riches of mankind, beggary to me. My soul over- 
 flowed. Words were not made to tell the feverish fond- 
 ness, the strong delight that quivered through me. I wept 
 with woman's weakness; I held my wife and children at 
 arm's length, that I might enjoy the full happiness of gazing 
 on them ; then my eyes grew dim, and I caught them to my 
 heart, and in silence, the silence of unspeakable emotion, 
 tried to collect my thoughts and to convince myself that my 
 joy was no dream. 
 
 The night passed in mutual inquiries. The career of my 
 family had been deeply diversified. On my capture in the 
 great battle with Cestius, in which it was said that I had 
 fallen, they were on the point of coming to Jerusalem to as- 
 certain their misfortune. The advance of the Romans to 
 Masada precluded this. They sailed for Alexandria, and 
 were overtaken by a storm. 
 
 "In that storm," said Miriam, with terror painted on her 
 countenance, "we saw a sight that appalled the firmest heart 
 among us, and which to this hour recalls fearful images. 
 The night had fallen intensely dark. Our vessel, laboring 
 through the tempest during the day and greatly shattered, 
 was expected to go down before morn, and I had come upon 
 the deck, prepared to submit to the general fate, when I saw 
 a flame in the distance, and pointed it out to the mariners ; 
 but they were paralyzed by weariness and fear, and instead 
 of approaching what I conceived to be a beacon, they left the 
 vessel to the mercy of the wind. I watched the light ; to my 
 astonishment, I saw it advancing over the waves. It was a 
 large ship on fire, and rushing down upon us. Then, indeed, 
 there was no insensibility among our mariners ; they were like 
 madmen, through excess of fear — ^they did everything but 
 make an effort to escape the danger. 
 
 " The blazing ship came toward us with terrific rapidity. 
 As it approached, the figure of a man was seen on the deck, 
 standing unhurt, in the midst of the burning. The Syrian 
 
 374 
 
XTbe Sting of a Stocig 
 
 pilot, hitherto the boldest of our crew, at this sight cast the ube 
 helm from his hands in despair, and tore his beard, exclaim- ®*'»ccuc8«"" 
 ing that we were undone. To our questions, he would give 
 no other answer than by pointing to the solitary being who 
 stood calmly in the center of the conflagration, more like a de- 
 mon than a man. 
 
 " I proposed that we should make some effort to rescue this 
 unfortunate man. But the pilot, horror-struck at the thought, 
 then gave up the tale that it cost him agonies even to utter. 
 He told us that the being whom our frantic compassion would 
 attempt to save, was an accursed thing ; that for some crime, 
 too inexpiable to allow of his remaining among creatures ca- 
 pable of hope, he was cast out from men, stricken into the na- 
 ture of the condemned spirits, and sentenced to rove the ocean 
 in fire, ever burning and never consumed ! " 
 
 I felt every word, as if that fire was devouring my flesh. 
 The sense of what I was, and what I must be, was poison. 
 My head swam; mortal pain overwhelmed me. And this 
 abhorred thing I was ; this sentenced and fearful wretch I 
 was, covered with wrath and shame ; this exile from human 
 nature I was ; and I heard my sentence pronounced and my 
 existence declared hideous by the lips on which I hung for 
 confidence and consolation against the world. 
 
 Flinging my robe over my face to hide its writhings, I 
 seemed to listen, but my ears refused to hear. In my per- 
 turbation, I once thought of boldly avowing the truth, and 
 thus freeing myself from the pang of perpetual concealment. 
 But the offense and the retribution were too real and too 
 deadly to be disclosed, without destroying the last chance of 
 happiness to those innocent sufferers. I mastered the con- 
 vulsion, and again bent my ear. 
 
 "Our story exhausts you," said Miriam; "but it is done. 
 After a long pursuit, in which the burning ship followed us 
 as if with the express purpose of our ruin, we were snatched 
 from a death by fire, only to undergo the chance of one by the 
 waves, for we were sinking. Yet it may have been owing 
 even to that chase that we were saved. The ship had driven 
 us toward land. At sea we must have perished, but the shore 
 
 876 
 
XTarrs tCbon CHI f Come 
 
 Bffireof was found to be so near, tiiat the country people, guided by 
 
 ogn on ^^ flame, saved us, without the loss of a life. Once on 
 
 shore, we met with some of the fugitives from Masada, who 
 
 brought us to Jerusalem, the only remaining refuge for our 
 
 unhappy nation." 
 
 To prevent a recurrence of this torturing subject, I mas- 
 tered my emotion so far as to ask some question of the siege. 
 But Miriam's thoughts were still busy with the sea. After 
 some hesitation, and as if she dreaded the answer, she said : 
 
 " One extraordinary circumstance made me take a strong 
 interest in the fate of that solitary being on board the burn- 
 ing vessel. It once seemed to have the most striking likeness 
 to you. I even cried out to it under that impression, but 
 fortunate it was for us all that my heedless cry was not an- 
 swered, for when it approached us I could see its counte- 
 nance change ; it threw a sheet of flame across our vessel that 
 almost scorched us ; and then perhaps thinking that our de- 
 struction was complete, the human fiend ascended from the 
 waters in a pillar of intense fire." 
 
 I felt deep pain at this romantic narrative. My mysterious 
 sentence was the common talk of mankind. My frightful 
 secret, that I had thought locked up in my own heart, was 
 loose as the air. This was enough to make life bitter. But 
 to be identified in the minds of my family with the object of 
 universal horror, was a chance which I determined not to 
 contemplate. My secret there was still safe ; and my resolu- 
 tion became fixed, never to destroy that safety by any frEmdc 
 confidence of my own. 
 
 876 
 
CHAPTER XLK 
 
 Salaifiiet's Strange Quarters 
 
 While, with my head bent on my knees, I hung in the Ube ffate of 
 misery of self -abhorrence, I heard the name of Constantius <'^'"'*»"""» 
 sorrowfully pronounced beside me. The state in which he 
 must be left by my long absence flashed upon my mind ; I 
 raised my eyes, and saw Salome. It was her voice that 
 sounded, and I then first observed the work of wo in her 
 form and features. She was almost a shadow ; her eye was 
 lusterless, and the hands that she clasped in silent prayer 
 were reduced to the bone. But before I could speak, Miriam 
 made a sign of silence to me, and led the mourner away; 
 then returning, said : 
 
 " I dreaded lest you might make any inquiries before Salome, 
 for her husband. Eeligion alone has kept her from the grave. 
 On our arrival here, we found our noble Constantius worn out 
 by the fatigue of the time, but he was our guardian spirit ia 
 the dreadful tumults of the city. When we were burned out 
 of one asylum, he led us to another. It is but a week since 
 he placed us in this melancholy spot, but yet the more secure 
 and imknown. He himself brought us provisions, supplied 
 us with every comfort that could be obtained by his impover- 
 ished means, and saved us from famine. But now," — the 
 tears filled her eyes and she could not proceed. 
 
 "Yes — now," said I, "he is a sight that would shock the 
 eye ; we musfc keep Salome in ignorance as long as we can." 
 
 " The unhappy girl knows his fate but too well. He left us 
 a few days since, to obtain some intelligence of the siege. 
 We sat, during the night, listening to the frightful sounds of 
 battle. At daybreak, unable any longer to bear the suspense 
 or sit looking at Salome's wretchedness, I ventured to the 
 
 877 
 
CarrB Cbou UUI H Comc 
 
 HffafeeiRqjott fountain-gate, and there heard what I so bitterly anticipated 
 — our brave Constantius was slain ! " 
 
 She wept aloud, and sobs and cries of irrepressible anguish 
 answered her from the chamber of my unhappy child. 
 
 The danger of a too sudden discovery prevented me from 
 drying those tears, and I could proceed only by offering con- 
 jectures on the various chances of battle, the possibility of his 
 being made prisoner, and the general difficulty of ascertaining 
 the fates of men in the irregular combats of a populace. But 
 Salome sat fixed in cold incredulity. Esther sorrowfully 
 kissed my hand, for my disposition to give them a ray of 
 comfort; Miriam gazed on me with a sad and searching look, 
 as if she felt that I would not tamper with their distresses, 
 yet she was deeply perplexed for the issue. At last the delay 
 grew painful to myself, and taking Salome to my arms, and 
 pressing a kiss of parental love on her pale cheek, I whis- 
 pered, " He lives ! " 
 
 I was overwhelmed with transports and thanksgivings. 
 Precaution was at an end. If battle had been raging in the 
 streets, I could not now have restrained the generous impa- 
 tience of friendship and love. We left the mansion. There 
 was not much to leave besides the walls ; but such as it was, 
 the first fugitive was welcome to the possession. Night was 
 still within the building, which had belonged to some of the 
 Roman oflScers of state, and was massive and of great extent. 
 But at the threshold the gray dawn came quivering over the 
 Mount of Olives. 
 
 We struggled through the long and winding streets, which 
 even in the light were nearly impassable. From the inhabi- 
 tants we met with no impediment; a few haggard and fierce- 
 looking men stared at us from the ruins," but we, wrapped up 
 in rude mantles and hurrying along, wore too much the livery 
 of despair to be disturbed by our fellows in wretchedness. 
 With a trembling heart I led the way to the chamber, where 
 lay one in whose life our general happiness was centered. 
 Fearful of the shock which our sudden appearance might give 
 his enfeebled frame, and not less of the misery with which he 
 must be seen, I advanced alone to the bedside. He gave no 
 
 R79 
 
Salatbiel's Strange (Stuatters 
 
 sign of recognition, tho lie was evidently awake, and I was Saiatbfei j 
 about to close the curtains and keep, at least, Salome from 
 the hazardous sight of this living ruin, when I found her be- 
 side me. She took his hand and sat down on the bed, with 
 her eyes fixed on his hollow features. She spoke not a word, 
 but sat cherishing the wasted hand in her own and kissing it 
 with sad fondness. Her grief was too sacred for our interfer- 
 ence, and in sorrow scarcely less poignant than her own, I led 
 apart Miriam and Esther, who, like me, believed that the 
 parting day was come. 
 
 Such rude help as could be found in medicine — at a time 
 when our men of science had fled the city, and a few herbs 
 were the only resource — had not been neglected even in my 
 distraction. But life seemed retiring hour by hour, and if I 
 dared to contemplate the death of this beloved being, it was 
 almost with a wish that it had happened before the arrival of 
 those to whom it must be a renewal of agony. 
 
 Still, the minor cares, which make so humble yet so neces- 
 sary a page in the history of life, were to occupy me. Food 
 must be provided for the increased number of my inmates, 
 and where was that to be found in the circle of a beleaguered 
 city? Money was useless, even if I possessed it ; the friends 
 who would once have shared their last meal with me were 
 exiled or slain, and it was in the midst of a fierce populace, 
 themselves dying of hunger, that I was to glean the daily 
 subsistence of my wife and children. The natural pride of the 
 chieftain revolted at the idea of supplicating for food, but 
 this was one of the questions that show the absurdity of 
 pride, and I must beg if I would not see them die. 
 
 The dwelling had belonged to one of the noble families ex- 
 tinguished, or driven away, in the first commotions of the war. 
 The factions which perpetually tore each other, and fought 
 from house to house, had stripped its lofty halls of every- 
 thing that could be plundered in the hurry of civil feud, and 
 when I took refuge under its roof it looked the very palace 
 of desolation. But it was a shelter, undisturbed by the riots 
 of the crowd, too bare to invite the robber; and even in its 
 vast and naked chambers, its gloomy passages and frowning 
 
 87» 
 
^arrg ttbou c;tll H Come 
 
 "OTe isaiace casements, congenial to the mood of my mind. With Con- 
 
 of tbe HDiinM 
 
 stantius insensible and dying before me, and with my own 
 spirit darkened by an eternal cloud, I loved loneliness and 
 darkness. "When the echo of the winds came round me, as I 
 sat during my miserable midnights, watching the countenance 
 of my son, and moistening his feverish lip with the water 
 that even then was becoming a conunodity of rare price in 
 Jerusalem, I had communed with memories that I would not 
 have exchanged for the brightest enjoyments of life. I wel- 
 comed the sad music, in which the beloved voices revisited 
 my soul; what was earth now to me but a tomb? Pomp — 
 nay, comfort — would have been a mockery. I clung to the 
 solitude and obscurity that gave me the picture of the grave. 
 
 But the presence of my family made me feel the wretched- 
 ness of my abode, "When I cast my eyes round the squalid 
 and chilling halls, and saw wandering through them those 
 gentle and delicate forms, and saw them trying to disguise, by 
 smiles and cheering words, the depression that the whole scene 
 must inspire, I felt a pang that might defy a firmer philosophy 
 than mine — the despair that finds its only relief in scorn. 
 
 "Here," said I to Miriam, as I hastened to the door, "I 
 leave you mistress of a palace. The Asmonean blood once 
 flourished within these walls ; and why not we? I have seen 
 the nobles of the land crowded into these chambers. They 
 are not so full now, but we must make the most of what we 
 have. Those hangings, that I remember, the pride of the 
 Sidoniaa who sold them, ai-e left to us still ; if they are in 
 fragments, they will but show our handiwork the more. "We 
 must make our own music ; and in default of menials, serve 
 with our own hands. The pile in that corner was once a 
 throne sent by a Persian king to the descendant of the Macca- 
 bee ; it will sei-ve us at least for firing. The walls are thick ; 
 the roof may -hold out a few storms more ; the casements, if 
 they keep out nothing else, keep out the daylight, an unwelcome 
 guest, which would do anything but reconcile us to the state 
 of the mansion, and now, farewell for a few hours." 
 
 Miriam caught my arm, and said, in that sweet tone which 
 always sank into my heart : 
 
Salatbiel's Stcange Quacteca 
 
 " SalatMel, you must not leave us in this temper, I -would flDfriam amce 
 rather hear your open complaints of fortune than this affecta- ®"'**'"'' 
 tion of contempt for your calamities. They are many and 
 painful, I allow, tho I will not, dare not, repine. They may 
 even be such as are beyond human cure, but who shall say 
 that he has deserved better — or if he has, that suffering may 
 not be the determined means of exalting his nature? Is gold 
 the only thing that is to be tried in the fire? " 
 
 She waited my answer with a look of dejected love. 
 
 " Miriam, I need not say that I respect and honor your 
 feelings, bat no resignation can combat the substantial evils 
 of life. Will the finest sentiments that ever came from human 
 lips make this darkness light, turn this bitter wind into 
 warmth, or make these hideous chambers but the dungeon? " 
 
 " My husband, I dread this language," was the answer, with 
 more than usual solemnity; "it is — must I say it? — even un- 
 wise. Shall the creatures of the Power by whom we are 
 placed in life either defy His wrath or disregard His mercy? 
 Might we not be more severely tasked than we are? Are 
 there not thousands at this hour in the world who, with at least 
 equal claims to the divine benevolence (I tremble when I use 
 the presumptuous phrase), are undergoing calamities to which 
 ours are happiness? Look from this very threshold; are there 
 not thousands within the walls of Jerusalem, groaning in the 
 pangs of unhealed wounds, mad, starving, stripped of every 
 succor of man, dying in hovels, the last survivors of their 
 wretched race? and yet we, still enjoying health, with a roof 
 over our heads, with our children round us safe, when the 
 plague of the first-bom has fallen upon almost every house in 
 Judea, can complain ! Be comforted, my love ; I see but one 
 actual caleimity among us ; and if Constantius should survive, 
 even that one would be at an end. " 
 
 I left my gentle despot, and hurried through the echoing 
 halls of this palace of the winds. As I approached the great 
 avenues leading from the gates to the Temple, unusual sounds 
 struck my ears. Hitherto nothing in the sadness of the be- 
 sieged city was sadder than its silence. Death was lord of 
 Jerusalem, and the numberless ways in which life was ex- 
 
 »81 
 
Uatrg TIbou tlUl H Come 
 
 ©atbcriitfl tinguislied tad left but the renmaiit of its once proud and 
 8t3cru«aum flourishing population. 
 
 But now shouts, and still more, the deep and perpetual 
 murmur that bespeaks the movements and gatherings of a 
 crowded city, astonished me. My first conception was that 
 the enemy had advanced in force, and I was turning toward 
 the battlements to witness, or repel the general fate, when I 
 was involved in the multitude whose voices had perplexed 
 me. 
 
 It was the season of the Passover. The Eoman barrier had 
 hitherto kept back the tribes ; but the victory that left it in 
 embers opened the gates ; and from the most death-like soli- 
 tude, we were once more to see the sons of Judea filHng the 
 courts of the city of cities. 
 
 38S 
 
CHAPTER L 
 (After the Struggle 
 
 Nothing could be more unrestrained than the public re- cbe awna 
 joicing. The bold myriads that soon poured in, hour by hour, ''^''"'="* 
 many of them long acquainted with Eoman battle and dis- 
 tinguished for the successful defense of their strongholds, 
 many of them even bearing arms taken from the enemy, or 
 displaying honorable scars, seemed to have come, sent by 
 Heaven. The enemy, evidently disheartened by their late 
 losses and the destruction of the rampart which had cost 
 them so much labor, remained collected in their camps, and 
 access was free from every quarter. The rumors of our tri- 
 umph had spread with singular rapidity through the land, 
 and even the fearful phenomenon that wrote our undoing in 
 the skies stimulated the national hope. No son of Abraham 
 could believe, without the strongest repugnance, that Heaven 
 had interposed, and yet interposed against the chosen people. 
 
 A living torrent had come, swelling into the gates, and the 
 great avenues and public places were quickly impassable with 
 the multitude. Jerusalem never before contained so vast a 
 mass of population. Wherever the eye turned were tents, fires, 
 and feasting ; still the multitude wore an aspect not such as 
 in former days. The war had made its impression on the in- 
 most spirit of our country. The shepherds and tillers of the 
 ground had been forced into the habits of soldiership, and I 
 saw before me, for the gentle and joyous inhabitants of the 
 field and garden, bands of warriors made fierce by the sullen 
 necessities of the time. 
 
 The ruin in which they found Jerusalem increased their 
 gloom. Groups were seen everywhere climbing among the 
 fallen buildings to find out the dwelling of some chief of their 
 tribe, and venting furious indignation on the hands that had 
 
 888 
 
Uaccs ^bou ^ill IT Come 
 
 ©loom overthrown it. The work of war upon the famous defenses of 
 ' the city was a profanation in their eyes. Crowds rushed 
 through the plain to trace the spot where their kindred fell 
 and gather their bones to the tardy sepulcher. Others rushed 
 exultingly over the wrecks of the Eoman soldiery, burning 
 them in heaps, that they might not mix with the honored 
 dead. 
 
 But it was the dilapidation of the Temple that struck 
 them with the deepest emotion. The singularly nervous sensi- 
 bility and unequaled native reverence of the Jew were fully 
 awakened by the sight of the humiliated sanctuary. They 
 knelt and kissed the pavements, stained with the marks of civil 
 feud. They sent forth deep lamentations for the dismantled 
 beauty of gate and altar. They wrapped their mantles round 
 their heads, and, covering themselves with dust and ashes, 
 chanted hymns of funereal sorrow over the ruins. Hundreds 
 lay embracing pillar and threshold as they would the corpse 
 of a parent or a child ; or, starting from the ground, gathered 
 on the heights nearest to the enemy and poured out curses 
 upon the " Abomination of desolation " — the idolatrous ban- 
 ner that flaunted over the Eoman camps, and by its mere 
 presence polluted the Temple of their fathers. 
 
 In the midst of this sorrow — and never was there more real 
 sorrow — was the strange contrast of an extravagant spirit of 
 festivity. The Passover, the grand celebration of our law, 
 had been until now marked by a grave homage. Even its 
 recollections of triumphant deliverance and illustrious promise 
 were but slightly suffered to mitigate the general awe. But 
 the character of the Jew had undergone a signal change. 
 Desperate valor and haughty contempt of all power but 
 that of arms were the impulse of the time. The habits of 
 the camp were transferred to every part of life, and the reck- 
 less joy of the soldier when the battle is done, the eagerness 
 of the multitude of the dissolute for immediate indulgence, 
 and the rude and unhallowed resources to while away the 
 heavy hour of idleness, were powerfully and repulsively prom- 
 inent in this final coming-up of the nation. 
 
 As I struggled through the avenues in search of the rem- 
 
 884 
 
mtev tbe Struggle 
 
 nant of my tribe, my ears were perpetually startled by sounds Ube 
 of riot. I saw, beside the spot where relations "were weeping ^^ **"* 
 over their dead, crowds drinking, dancrug, and clamoring. 
 Songs of wild exultation were mingled with the laments for 
 their country ; wine flowed, and the board, loaded with care- 
 less profusion, was surrounded by revelers, with whom the 
 carouse was invariably succeeded by the quarrel. The pharisee 
 and scribe, the pests of society, were once more as busy as 
 ever, bustling through the concourse with supercilious dignity, 
 canvassing for hearers in the market-places as of old, offeriug 
 up their wordy devotions where they might best be seen, and 
 quarreling with the native bitterness of religious faction. 
 Blind guides of the bliud, vipers and hypocrites, I think 
 that I see them still, with their turbans pulled down over 
 their scowling brows; their mantles gathered round them, 
 that they might not be degraded by a profane touch ; and 
 every feature of their acrid and worldly physiognomies 
 wriijsled with pride, put to the torture by the assumption of 
 humility. 
 
 Minstrels, far unlike those who once led the way with 
 sacred song to the gates of the holy city, now flocked round 
 the tents, and companies of Greek and Syrian mimes, dancers, 
 and flute-players, the natural and fatal growth of a period of 
 military relaxation, were erecting their pavilions as in the 
 festivals of their own profligate cities. 
 
 Deepening the shadows of this fearful profanation, stood 
 forth the traders in terror : the exorcist, the soothsayer, the 
 magician girdled with live serpents, the pretended prophet, 
 naked and pouriug out furious rhapsodies ; impostors of every 
 color and pursuit, yet some of those abhorred and frightful 
 beings probably the dupes of their own imposture; some 
 utterly frenzied ; and some declaring, and doing, wonders that 
 showed a power of evil never learned from man. 
 
 In depression of heart I gave up the effort to urge my way 
 
 through scenes that, firm as I was, terrified me, and turned 
 
 toward my home through the steep path that passed along 
 
 the outer court of the Temple. There all wore the mournful 
 
 = silence suited to the sanctuary that was to see its altars kin' 
 
 28 385 
 
Partis G^bou tTUl H Come 
 
 cue SanbcMin died no more. But the ruins ■were crowded with kneeling and 
 wo-begone worshipers, who, from morning until night, clung 
 to the sacred soil and wept for the departing majesty of Judah. 
 I now knelt with them and mingled my tears with theirs. 
 
 Prayer calmed my spirit, and before I left the height I 
 stopped to look again upon the wondrous expanse below. The 
 clear atmosphere of the East singularly diminishes distance, 
 and I seemed to stand close by the Eoman camps. The valley 
 at my feet was living with the new population of Jerusalem, 
 clustering thick as bees, and sending up the perpetual hum of 
 their mighty hive. The sight was superb, and I involuntarily 
 exulted in the strength that my country was still able to dis- 
 play in the face of her enemies. 
 
 Here were the elements of mutual havoc, but might they 
 not be the elements of preservation? The thought occurred 
 that now might be the time to make an effort for peace. We 
 had, by the repulse of the legionaries, shown them the price 
 which they must pay for conquest. Even since that repulse, a 
 new national force had started forward, armed with an en- 
 thusiasm that would perish only with the last man, and in- 
 creasing tenfold the difficulties of the war. 
 
 I turned again to the ruins, where I joined some venerable 
 and influential men, who alike shuddered at the excesses of 
 the crowd below and the catastrophe that prolonged war must 
 bring. My advice produced an impression. The remnant of 
 the Sanhedrin were speedily collected, and my proposal was 
 adopted that a deputation should immediately be sent to 
 Titus to ascertain how far he was disposed to an armistice. 
 The regular pacification might then follow with a more solemn 
 ceremonial. 
 
 From the top of Mount Moriah we anxiously watched the 
 passage of our envoys through the multitude that wandered 
 over the space from Jerusalem to the foot of the enemy's 
 position. We saw them pass unmolested and enter the 
 Roman lines, and from the group of officers of rank who 
 came forward to meet them we gladly conjectured that their 
 reception was favorable. Within an hour we saw them mov- 
 ing down the side of the hiU on their return, and at some 
 
Bftec tbe Struggle 
 
 distance behind, a cluster of horsemen slowly advancing. The uitua tueceivce 
 deputation had executed its task with success. It was re- *'^'""^"''"'** 
 ceived by Titus with Italian urbanity." To its representations 
 of the power subsisting iu Judea to sustain the war he fully 
 assented, and giving high praise to the fortitude of the people, 
 only lamented the necessary havoc of war. To give the 
 stronger proof of his wish for peace, his answer was to be 
 conveyed formally by a mission of his chief councilors and 
 officers to the Sanhedrin. 
 
 The tidings were soon propagated among the people, and 
 proud of their strength, and irritated against the invader as 
 they were, the prospect of relief from their innumerable pri- 
 vations was welcomed with undisguised joy. The hope was as 
 cheering to the two prominent leaders of the factions as to 
 any man among us. John of Giscala had been stimulated into 
 daring by circumstances alone ; nature never intended him for 
 a warrior. Wily, grasping, and selfish, cruel without per- 
 sonal boldness, and keen without intellectual vigor, his only 
 purpose was to accumulate money and to enjoy power. The 
 loftier objects of public life were beyond his narrow capacity. 
 He had been rapidly losing even his own objects ; his fol- 
 lowers were deserting him, and a continuance of the war in- 
 volved equally the personal peril which he feared, and the 
 fall of that tottering authority whose loss would leave him to 
 insulted justice. 
 
 Simon, the son of Gioras, was altogether of a higher class 
 of mankind. He was by nature a soldier, and, in other times, 
 might have risen to a place among the celebrated . names of 
 war. But the fierceness of the period inflamed his spirit into 
 savage atrocity. In the tumults of the city he had distin- 
 guished himself by that unhesitating hardihood which values 
 neither its own life nor the lives of others, and his daring threw 
 the hollow and artificial character of his rival deeply into the 
 shade. But he found a different adversary in the Eoman. His 
 brute bravery was met by intelligent valor ; his rashness was 
 baffled by the discipline of the legions ; and weary of con- 
 flicts in which he was sure to be defeated, he had long left the 
 field to the irregular sallies of the tribes, and contented him- 
 
 «87 
 
Zntt^ ^bou Sill ir Come 
 
 Cbc floeaning self with, prowess in city feud and the preservation of his 
 ^" authority against the dagger. 
 
 Peace with Eome would thus have relieved both John and 
 Simon from the danger which threatened to overwhelm, them 
 alike ; to the citizens it would have given an instant change 
 from the terrors of assault to tranquillity ; and to the nation, 
 the hope of an existence made splendidly secure by its having 
 been won from the master of the world. 
 
 owi 
 
CHAPTER LI 
 
 <A Man of Mystery 
 
 The movement of the Eoman mission through the plain Ilnlntru^et 
 ■was marked by loud shouts. As it approached the gates, our 
 little couneO. descended from the temple porch to meet it, 
 ■where one of the open places in the center of the city was ap- 
 pointed for the conference. The applauding roar of the people 
 followed the troops through the streets, and when the tribunes 
 and senators entered the square, and gave us the right hand 
 of amity, universal acclamation shook the air. A gleam of 
 joy revisited my heart, and I ■was on the point of ascending 
 an elevation in the center, to announce the terms of this for- 
 tunate ai'mistice, ■when to my astonishment I saw the spot 
 preoccupied. 
 
 Whence came the intruder no one could tell, but there he 
 stood, a figure that fixed the universal eye. He was of 
 gigantic stature, brown as an Indian, and thin as one worn 
 to the last extremity by disease or famine. Conjecture was 
 busy. He seemed alternately the fugitive from a dungeon — 
 one of the half-savage recluses that sometimes came from 
 their dens in the wilderness, to exhibit among us the last hu- 
 miliation of mind and body — a dealer in forbidden arts, at- 
 tempting to impose on the credulity of the populace, and a 
 prophet armed with the fearful knowledge of our approaching 
 fall. To me there was an expression in his countenance that 
 partook of all ; yet there was a something different from all 
 in the glaring eye, the livid scorn of the lip, and the wild 
 and yet grand outline of features which appeared alike over- 
 flowing with malignity and majesty. 
 
 No man thought of interrupting him. A powerful interest 
 hushed every voice of the multitude, and the only impulse 
 was eagerness to hear the lofty wisdom or the fatal tidings 
 
 880 
 
U&tvQ V^orx ZtU V Come 
 
 ttbe ■Strnpcst that must be deposited with such a being. He himself seemed 
 to be OTerwhelmed with the magnitude of the thoughts that 
 he was commissioned to disclose. He stood for a while with 
 the look of one oppressed by a fearful dream, his bosom heav- 
 ing, his teeth gnashing, every muscle of his meager frame 
 swelling and quivering. He clasped his bony arms across his 
 breast, as if to repress the agitation that impeded his words ; 
 he stamped on the ground, in apparent wrath at the faculties 
 which thus sank under him at the important moment ; at last 
 the tempest of his soul broke forth : 
 
 " Judah ! thou wert as a lion — thou wert as the king of the 
 forest, when he went up to the mountains to slay, and from 
 the mountains came down to devour. Thou wert as the gar- 
 den of Eden ; every precious stone was thy covering ; the sar- 
 dine, the topaz, and the beryl were thy pavements ; thy foun- 
 tains were of silver, and thy daughters who walked iu thy 
 groves were as the cherubim and the seraphim. 
 
 " Judah ! thy temple was glorious as the sun-rising, and 
 thy priests were the wise of the earth. Kings came against 
 thee, and their bones were an offering ; the fowls of the air 
 devoured them; the foxes brought their young, and feasted 
 them upon the mighty. 
 
 " Judah ! thou wert as a fire in the midst of the nations — a 
 fire upon an altar; who shall quench thee? A sword over 
 the neck of the heathen ; who shall say unto thee. Smite no 
 more! Thou wert as the thunder and the lightning; thou 
 camest from thy place, and the earth was dark. Thou didst 
 thunder, and the nations shook, and the fire of thy indigna- 
 tion consumed them.'' 
 
 The voice in which this extraordinary being uttered those 
 words was like the thunder. The multitude listened with 
 breathless awe. The appeal was to them a renewal of the 
 times of inspiration, and they awaited with outstretched 
 hands and quivering countenances the sentence that their pas- 
 sions interpreted into the wUl of Heaven. 
 
 The figure lifted up his glance, which had hitherto been 
 fixed on the ground ; and whether it was the work of fancy or 
 reality, I thought that the glance threw an actual beam of fire 
 
 390 
 
B ASan of it^Bteve 
 
 across the upturned visages of the myriads that filled every Ube ©utcrs 
 spot on. which a foot could rest — roof, wall, and ground. fljaitttuM 
 
 Bowing his head, and raising his hands in the most solemn 
 adoration toward the Temple, he pursued, in a voice scarcely 
 above a whisper, yet indescribably impressive : 
 
 "Sons of AbraJiam, of Isaac, and of Jacob! people elect 
 and holy! will you suffer that house of holiness to be the 
 scoff of the idolater? "Will you see the polluted sacrifice laid 
 upon its altars? Will you be slaves in the presence of the 
 house of David? " 
 
 A rising outcry of the multitude showed how deeply they 
 felt his words, A fierce smile lightened across his features at 
 the sound. He erected his colossal form, and cried out like 
 the roar of a whirlwind : 
 
 " Then, men of Judah I be strong, and follow the hand that 
 led you through the sea and through the desert. Is that hand 
 shortened that it cannot save? Break off this accursed league 
 with the sons of Belial. Fly every man to arms, for the glory 
 of the mighty people. Go, and let the sword that smote the 
 Canaanite smite the Koman." 
 
 He was answered with furious exultation. Swords and 
 poniards were brandished in the air. The safety of the Eoman 
 ofSeers became endangered, and I, with some of the elders, 
 dfsjijxfing a result which must throw fatal obstacles in the way 
 of pacitcation, attempted to control the popular violence by 
 reason and entreaty. But the spirit of the Eomans, haughty 
 with conquest and long contempt of the multitude, disdained 
 to take precautions with a mob, and they awaited with pal- 
 pable contempt the subsiding of this city effervescence. This 
 silent scorn, which probably stung the deeper for its silence, 
 was retorted to by clamors of unequivocal rage. The mys- 
 terious disturber saw the storm coming, and flinging a furious 
 gesture toward the Eoman camps, which lay glittering in the 
 sunshine along the hills, he rushed into the loftiest language 
 of malediction. 
 
 "Take up a lament for the Eoman," he shouted. "He 
 comes like a leviathan; he troubleth the waters with his pres- 
 ence, and the rivers behold him and are afraid. 
 
 891 
 
JltLtrg TTbou XTfll IT Come 
 
 Cbe ptopbecs "Thus saith the king, He who holdeth Israel in the hollow 
 
 otS>oom 
 
 of His hand : I will spread My net over thee, and My people 
 shall drag thee upon the shore ; I will leave thee to rot upoa 
 the land J I will fill the beasts of the earth with thee, until 
 they shall come and find thee, dry bones and dust — even thy 
 glory turned into a taint and a scorn. 
 
 "Lift up a cry over Rome and say. Thou art the leopard; 
 thy jaws are red with blood, and thy claws are heavy be- 
 cause of the multitude of the slain; thy spots are glorious, 
 and thy feet are like wings for swiftness. But thy time is at 
 hand. My arrow shall smite through thee ; My sword shall 
 go through thee; I will lay thy fiesh upon the hills; thy 
 blood shall be red in the rivers ; the pits shall be full of thee. 
 
 " For thus saith the king : I have not forsaken My children. 
 For My pleasure I have given them over for a while to the 
 hands of the oppressor ; but they have loved Me — they have 
 come before Me, and offered up sacrifices ; and shall I desert 
 the land of the chosen, the sons of the glorious, My people 
 Israel ! " 
 
 A universal outcry of wrath and triumph followed this allu- 
 sion to the national vengeance. 
 
 "Ho!" exclaimed the figure. "Men of Israel, hear the 
 words of wisdom. The burden of Eome. By the swords of 
 the mighty will I cause her multitude to fall ; the terrible and 
 the strong shall be on thee, city of the idolater ; they shall 
 hew off thy cuirasses as the hewer of wood, and of thy 
 shields they shall make vessels of water. There shall be fire 
 in thy palaces, and the sword. Thy sons and thy daughters 
 shall they consume, and thy precious things shall be a spoil 
 when the king shall give the sign from the sanctuary. " 
 
 He paused, and, lifting up his fleshless arm, stood like a 
 giant bronze pointing to the Temple. 
 
 To the utter astonishment of all, a vapor was seen to 
 ascend from the summit of Mount Moriah, wreathing and 
 white like the smoke that used to mark the daily sacrifice. 
 Our first conception was that this great rite was resumed, 
 and the shout of joy was on our lips. But the vapor had 
 scarcely parted from the crown of the hill when it blackened 
 
 893 
 
21 ^an of ^ssters 
 
 and began to whirl -witli extraordinary rapidity ; it thenceforth, » "ooiift panic 
 less ascended than shot up, perpetually darkening and dis- 
 tending. The horizon grew dim; the cloudy canopy above 
 continued to spread and revolve ; lightning began to quiver 
 through, and we heard, at intervals, low peals of thunder. 
 But no rain fell, and the wind was lifeless. Nothing could 
 be more complete than the calm ; not a hair of our heads was 
 moved, yet the heart of the countless multitude was pene- 
 trated with the dread of some impending catastrophe that re- 
 strained every voice, and the silence itself was awful. 
 
 In the climate of Judea we were accustomed to the rapid 
 rise and violent devastations of tempests. But the rising of 
 this storm, so closely connected with the appearance of the 
 strange summoner that it almost followed his command, in- 
 vested a phenomenon, at all times fearful, with a character 
 that might have struck firmer minds than those of the en- 
 thusiasts round him. To heighten the wonder, the progress 
 of the storm still seemed faithful to the command. Wherever 
 this man of mystery waved his arm, there rushed a sheet of 
 cloud. The bluest tract of heaven was as black as night, at 
 the moment when he turned his ominous presence toward it, 
 until there was no more sky to be obliterated, and but for the 
 fiery streaks that tore through, we should have stood under a 
 canopy of solid gloom. 
 
 At length the whirlwind, that we had seen driving and 
 rolling the clouds like billows, burst upon us, scattering frag- 
 ments of the buildings far and wide, and cutting a broad way 
 through the overthrown multitude. Then superstition and 
 terror were loud-mouthed. The populace, crushed and dashed 
 down, exclaimed that a volcano was throwing up flame from 
 the mount of the Temple ; that sulfurous smokes were rising 
 through the crevices of the ground ; that the rocking of an 
 earthquake was felt ; and still more terrible, that beings, not 
 to be looked on, nor even to be named, were hovering round 
 them in the storm. 
 
 The general rush of the people, in which hundreds were 
 trampled and in which nothing but the most violent efforts 
 could keep any on their feet, bore me away for a while. The 
 
tiarrs Ubou tlill f dome 
 
 'TObeScginnJnge struggle was sufficient to absorb all my senses, for nothing 
 engeance ^.^^^^ jjg more perilous. The darkness was intense, the peals 
 of the storm were deafening, and the howlings and fury of 
 the crowd, trampling and being trampled on, and fighting for 
 life in blindness and despair, with hand, foot, and dagger, 
 made an uproar louder than that of the storm. In this con- 
 flict, rather of demons than of men, I was whirled away in 
 eddy after eddy, until chance brought me again to the foot of 
 the elevation. 
 
 There I beheld a new wonder. A column of livid fire stood 
 upon it, reaching to the clouds. I could discern the outline 
 of a human form within. But while I expected to see it drop 
 dead or blasted to a cinder, the flame spread over the ground, 
 and I saw its strange inhabitant making signs like those of 
 incantation. He drew a circle upon the burning soU., poured 
 out some unguent which diffused a powerful and rich odor, 
 razed the skin of his arm with a dagger, and let fall some 
 drops of blood into the blaze. 
 
 I shuddered at the sight of those palpable appeals to the 
 power of Evil, but I was pressed upon by thousands, and re- 
 treat was impossible. The strange being then, with a ghastly 
 smile of triumph, waved the weapon toward the Boman 
 camps. 
 
 "Behold," he cried, "the beginnings of vengeance! " 
 
 A thunder-roll that almost split the ear echoed round the 
 hills. The darkness passed away with it. Above Jerusalem 
 the sky cleared, and cleared into a translucence and blue 
 splendor imrivaled by the brightest sunshine. The people, 
 wrought up to the highest expectancy, shouted at this 
 promise of a prouder deliverance, and exclaiming, "Goshen! 
 Groshen!" looked breathlessly for the completion of the 
 plague upon the more than Egyptian oppressor. They were 
 not held long in suspense. 
 
 The storm had cleared away above our heads, only to gather 
 in deeper terrors round the circle of hills on which we could 
 see the enemy in the most overwhelming state of alarm. The 
 clouds rushed on, ridge over ridge, until the whole horizon 
 seemed shut in by a wall of night towering to the skies. I 
 
 894 
 
 r 
 
B Osan of ASsstete 
 
 heard the deep voice of the orator; at the utterance of some Zbc jjuratfna 
 strange words, a gleam played roimd his dagger's point, and 
 the wall of darkness was instantly a wall of fire. The storm 
 was let loose in its rage. "While we stood in daylight and in 
 perfect calm, the lightning poured like sheets of rain or 
 gushes of burning metal from a furnace upon the enemy. 
 The vast circuit of the camps was instantly one blaze. The 
 wind tore everything before it with irresistible violence. We 
 saw the tents swept off the ground and driven far over the 
 hills in flames like meteors ; the piles of arms and banners 
 blown away; the soldiery clinging to the rocks, flying to- 
 gether in helpless crowds, or scattering, like maniacs, with 
 hair and garments on fire ; the baggage and military machines, 
 the turrets and ramparts, sinking in fiames; the beasts of 
 burden plunging and rushing through the lines, or lying in 
 smoldering heaps where the lightning first smote them. All 
 was conflagration I 
 
 39b 
 
CHAPTER LH 
 
 The 'Prophecy of Evil 
 
 Ube tRoman The Homan embassy had hitherto remained in stem com- 
 > Orovra inl?g. posure. The visitations of nature they were accustomed to 
 "^"^ sustain ; the perturbations of a Jewish mob were beneath the 
 notice of the universal conquerors. But the sight of the havoc 
 among their countrymen shook their stoicism, and the cavalry 
 that formed the escort burst into indignant murmurs at the 
 exultation of the multitude, until the commander of the 
 troop, whose arms and bearing showed him to be of the high- 
 est rank, unable to restrain his feelings, spurred to the front 
 of the embarrassed mission. 
 
 "How long, senators," exclaimed he, "shall we stand here 
 to be scoffed at by these wretches? The imperial guard feels 
 itself disgraced by such a service. Will you have the squadron 
 openly mutiny? If they should ride away and leave us to 
 ourselves, who could blame them? What will the noble Titus 
 say, when we return to tell him that we stood by and listened 
 to the taunts of those cooped-up slaves, on him, the army, and 
 Eome? But how long shall we be suffered even to listen? 
 Linger here, and before the day is out your lives will be at 
 the mercy of those assassins. And by the immortal gods, 
 richly shall we all deserve our fate, for having come into this 
 den but as masters riding over the necks of those lost and 
 lowest of mankind." 
 
 It was fortunate for the speaker that he spoke in a language 
 but little known to our bold peasantry. The senators held 
 their peace, and waited for the subsiding of the popular effer- 
 vescence. 
 
 "Noble ^milius! " exclaimed the fiery youth, to a grave 
 and lofty-countenanced man at the head of the mission, "to 
 
 896 
 
Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Waernftlla Company, N. Y. and London, 
 
 The Roman rushed at him with his drawn falchion. 
 
 See page 397. 
 
V:be ptopbecs of £vil 
 
 remain here is only to risk your safety and the honor of the » asarsei of 
 Emperor. Treaty with this people is out of the question. "™* 
 Give me the order to disperse this rabble, and a single charge 
 will decide the affair." 
 
 He threw himself forward on his horse's neck, and fixed 
 his look eagerly on the senator's countenance. But the old 
 Roman was immovable. The man of prophecy, who had stood 
 with his robe wrapped round his arms in an attitude of con- 
 temptuous ease, awaiting the result of the demand, burst into 
 loud laughter. The young soldier's indignation was roused 
 by this new object. He turned to the scorner, and crying out, 
 " Ho ! is it you, miscreant? You at least shall not escape me, " 
 flung his lance full against his bosom. I saw the weapon 
 strike with prodigious force, but it might as well have struck 
 a rock. It flew into splinters. 
 
 The Roman rushed at him with his drawn falchion. His 
 strange antagonist stood without moving a limb, and only 
 raised his cold, large eye. The charger, in his fiercest bound, 
 instantly swerved, and had nearly unseated his rider. Nothing 
 could bring him forward again. Spur and voice were useless. 
 The animal, a magnificent jet black, of the largest Arab breed, 
 strong as a bull and bold as a lion, could not abide that stern 
 eye. He galloped madly round and round, but the attempt to 
 force him against the stranger stopped him as if he were 
 stabbed. Then with every muscle in his frame palpitating, 
 his broad chest heaving, his nostrils breathing out vapor, 
 and the foam flying over his front like snow, he would plunge 
 and rear until, mastering his powerful rider, he wheeled 
 round and darted away. 
 
 The shouts of scorn that rose from the populace at every 
 fresh failure, doubly enraged the young Roman. He made a 
 final effort, and grasping the bridle in both hands, and dash- 
 ing in the spur, at length succeeded in forcing the wearied 
 charger on. The noble creature, at one immense leap, reached 
 the fatal spot. But there he was fixed as if some power had 
 transformed him into stone. He no longer staggered nor 
 swerved, but crouching down, with his feet thrust forward, 
 his crest stooped, his nostiils on the ground, and his bright 
 
 397 
 
trartB ^bou tnil IT Come 
 
 Saiatbiei eye strained and filmy, as if he were growing blind, stood 
 ment '" ° gazing with a look of almost human horror. The furious rider 
 struck him on the head with the flat of his falchion. The 
 charger gathered up his limbs at the blow, reared straight as 
 a column, and bellowing, plunged upon his head. There was 
 a general cry of terror, even among the multitude, and they 
 rushed forward to help him to rise. But he rose no more. He 
 rolled over and over his rider, and, stretching out his limbs in 
 a convulsion, died. 
 
 The tumult was on the point of being renewed, for the 
 soldiery pushed forward to bear away their of&cer, who lay 
 like a corpse ; but the crowd had already covered the ground, 
 and blows were given on both sides. Indignant at the inter- 
 ruption of the armistice, and the injury that threatened the 
 sacred person of ambassadors, I forced my way through the 
 crowd ; by exerting a strength with which few could cope, 
 rescued the young Roman, and delivering him to the mission, 
 protested against their construing the casual violence of rioters 
 into the determination of the people. 
 
 I had partially succeeded in calming their resentment, and 
 in restraining the bloodthirsty weapons that were already 
 glittering in numberless hands, when a sound like that of a 
 trumpet, distant but blown with tremendous force, struck 
 every ear at once. 
 
 I looked involuntarily to the man who had already been 
 our disturber. He pointed to the heavens. A fragment of 
 cloud, that seemed to have escaped from the mass of the tem- 
 pest, was floating along the zenith. He took up his parable : 
 
 " Have I not covered the heavens with a cloud? saith the 
 Mighty One. Have I not said to the sun, Be dark ; and to the 
 moon and stars. Be ashamed? Have I not hidden Mine ene- 
 mies in the shroud, and said to the whirlwind. Go forth and 
 slay? " 
 
 His gesture turned all eyes to the wrecks of the Eoman 
 camp, where the whirlwind continued to ravage and the 
 thunders still roared. Then throwing himself forward with a 
 look full of wild grandeur, and in a voice hollow and appal- 
 ling as the storm, he exclaimed: 
 
 .S98 
 
Zbe ipropbecs ot TBvil 
 
 " Behold ! this day shall a wonder be wrought among you Ube jf lamina 
 — this day shall a mighty thing be brought to pass. Kings 
 shall see it and tremble ; yea, the heathen shall melt before 
 thee. Their strength shall be as water and their hearts as the 
 burning flax. Sorrow shall be on them, as the locust on the 
 green field, and they shall flee as from a lion. Behold ! in a 
 cloud shall a sword be brandished before thee ; in smoke and 
 in fire shalt thou conquer. For His angel shall come, and the 
 sword and the flame shall at this hour be a sign unto Israel ! " 
 
 Whether by the proverbial sagacity of the wanderers of the 
 desert, by one of those coincidences which so curiously come 
 to sustain the credit of daring conjecture, or by knowledge 
 from some darker sources, the little orbed vapor began to 
 lengthen and rapidly assumed the shape of a sword. 
 
 Dreading the popular power of imposture, and the uses to 
 which it would inevitably be applied, I was glad that this 
 extraordinary being had thus put himself upon his trial ; and 
 I stood gaziQg in eager expectation that some passing g^st 
 would dissipate at once the cloud and the reputation of the 
 prophet. Yet utterly scorning the common pretensions of 
 the rambling practisers of forbidden arts, I knew that awful 
 things had been done ; that most of all, in these latter days 
 of our country, strange influences were let loose, perhaps to 
 plunge into deeper ruin a people guiltily prone to take refuge 
 in delusions. I had heard prophecies, hideous and unholy, 
 which were never taught by man ; I had seen a command of 
 the elements that utterly defied philosophy to account for 
 it; if in the last vengeance of Heaven, evil spirits were 
 ever suffered to go forth and give their power to evil men, 
 for the purpose of binding in the faster chains of falsehood a 
 race who loved a lie, it was in those hours of signs and won- 
 ders which might, if possible, deceive the very elect. 
 
 To my astonishment, the cloud suddenly changed its color ; 
 from white it became intensely red ; and in a few moments 
 more it burst into a flame that threw a broad reflection upon 
 the whole atmosphere. It was a vast falchion of fire. And 
 from that hour to the last of the glorious and unhappy city 
 of David, that flaming sword — the sign of a wrath predicted 
 
TTatts Ubou trill ir Come 
 
 Supetetitton a thousand years before — blazed day and nigbt oyer Jeru- 
 ■ani tlneipiable -, , 
 iDuc&er saiem ! 
 
 Its instant effect was terrible. The multitude, already in- 
 dignant against the E.omans, and restrained only by my 
 desperate efforts, were now roused to the highest pitch of 
 presumption. To doubt of the help of Heaven was impiety, 
 after this open wonder ; to spare an hour between this divine 
 command and the extermination of the idolater was sacrilege. 
 They poured round the unfortunate troop and instantly over- 
 whelmied them, as an earthquake would have overwhelmed 
 them. A mass of human life, dense as the ground it trod 
 upon, broke over them. The Komans struggled heroically; I 
 saw their charges often make fearful way, and their swords 
 and lances dripping with blood every tim.e they were whirled 
 round their heads. But the conflict was too unequal ; one by 
 one those brave men were torn down ; I saw them swept along 
 by the torrent, fewer and fewer, still above the living wave ; 
 gradually separated more widely from each other ; each man 
 faintly struggling for himself, flinging his feeble arms to the 
 right and left, till, dizzy with fatigue and despair, at last he 
 went down, and the roaring tide closed over him. 
 
 All perished, and a day of hope was closed in superstition, 
 treachery, and inexpiable murder. 
 
 The dreadful uproar sank as suddenly as it had risen. The 
 Eoman troop lay a heap of dead. I turned away from the 
 sight, but at the instant of turning I saw the prophet of evil, 
 whether impostor or magician, whether man or demon, spring 
 into their midst with a roar of laughter. I shrank away. But 
 I heard that terrible laugh ringing through all the streets of 
 Jerusalem I 
 
 400 
 
CHAPTER Lm 
 A Fatal Sign 
 
 It -was night, and the greater portion of the city lay be- ^fSSteJ* 
 tween me and home. To traverse it was still a matter of 
 danger. Furious festivity had succeeded to furious confliet ; 
 the roving mountaineers made little difference between a 
 stranger and an enemy, and whether inflamed with wine or 
 triumph, the carousers on that night were the masters of 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 I kept my course through the less frequented ways, and 
 leaving on either side the great avenues, crowded witii tents 
 and glittering with illumination, committed myself to the 
 quiet light of the moon. 
 
 But in choosing the more solitary streets, I was, without 
 recollecting it, led into the open place where the late dis- 
 turbance had begun, and I felt some vague dread of passing a 
 spot on which had appeared a being so singular as the leader 
 of the tumult. 
 
 By a compromise with my prudence, I kept as far from the 
 hillock as possible, and was moving rapidly by the wall of one 
 of the huge buildings of Herod, when I heard a groan. In 
 the nervousness of the time, and doubtful from what region 
 of earth or air my antagonist, in that place of spells, might 
 come, I drew my dagger with a sensation that I had never 
 felt in the field, and setting my back against the wall, stood 
 on my defense. But a wounded man, the titterer of the 
 groan, now tottered iato the light and fell before me. I rec- 
 ognized the commander of the escort. The dying struggles of 
 his charger had crushed him, and the multitude had abandoned 
 him to his fate. 
 
 To leave him where he was, was to leave him to perish. 
 I owed something to the survivor of the unfortunate mission, 
 
 26 401 
 
TTatrs XCbou TCill IT Come 
 
 ■flBtssenaers of and my short consultation closed by carrying him on my 
 shoulders to the door of my comfortless dwelling. 
 
 The Roman had learned to distrust Jewish fidelity. The 
 gloom inside the entrance looked the very color of secret 
 murder. Even the dismantled appearance of the exterior was 
 enough for suspicion, and he firmly ordered that I should 
 terminate my good offices at the threshold. Irritated by his 
 obvious meaning, I left him to his wish, and placing him in 
 the fullest enjoyment of such security as the open street and 
 the moonlight could give, took my farewell, bidding him in 
 future to have a better opinion of mankind. 
 
 Yet I was to be startled in my turn. As I climbed the 
 broken staircases, I saw an unusual light in the chambers 
 above. Accustomed as I was to reverses, I felt tenfold alarm 
 from the preciousness of my stake. The ferocious bands that 
 crowded the streets, inflamed with wine and blood, could 
 have no scruples where plunder tempted them ; and in the 
 strong persuasion that some misfortune had happened in my 
 long absence, I lingered in doubt whether I should not return 
 to the streets, collect what assistance I could find among the 
 passersby, and crush the robbers by main force. But sud- 
 den exclamations and hurried feet above left me no time ; I 
 darted up the shattered steps and breathlessly threw open the 
 door. 
 
 Well might I wonder. I saw a superb room, hung with 
 tapestry, a table in the center covered with plate and viands, 
 a rich lamp illuminating the chamber, stately furniture, a 
 fire blazing on a tripod and throwing a cheering warmth and 
 delicious odor round; yet, to enjoy all this, not a living 
 creature. But whatever my anxieties might be, they were de- 
 lightfully scattered by the voice of Esther, who came flying 
 toward me with outstretched arms and a face bright with 
 joy. From an inner chamber followed more messengers of 
 good tidings — Miriam and Salome leading Constantius ! They 
 had watched over him from the time of my departure with a 
 sickly alternation of hope and fear ; as the evening approached 
 he seemed dying. Salome, with the jealousy of deep sorrow, 
 desired to be left alone with him ; and the two sad listeners 
 
 402 
 
21 jFatal Sign 
 
 at the door expected at every moment the burst of agony an- saiatbiet (Boe» 
 nouncing her irreparable loss. They heard a cry of joy; the *' » ■^'J™*"'' 
 torpor was gone, and Constantius was sitting up, raised to 
 new life, wondering at all round him, and uttering the rap- 
 tures of gratitude and love. 
 
 The sound that had impelled me to my abrupt entrance 
 was the joy of my family at bringing the recovered patient in 
 triumph from his weary bed into view of the comforts pro- 
 vided for him and for me. The change wrought in the cham- 
 ber itself was explained by the presence of two old domestics 
 who, in the flight of the former possessors, had been over- 
 looked, and suffered to hide, rather than live, in a comer of 
 the ruin. They had contrived in the general spoliation to 
 secrete some of the precious things which the haste of plunder 
 had not time to seize. The presence of a noble family under 
 the honored roof once more brought out their feelings and 
 treasures together, and by the graceful dexterity of Miriam 
 and Esther were those naked walls converted into an apart- 
 ment not unworthy to be inhabited by themselves. 
 
 While I was indulging in the luxury which those gentle 
 ministers provided, the thought of the unfortunate Roman 
 occurred to me. I slightly mentioned him, and every voice 
 was raised to have him brought in from the hazards of the 
 night. Constantius, feeble as he was, rose from his couch to 
 assist in this work of hospitality ; but he was under a fond 
 tyrant, who would not suffer her commands to be questioned. 
 Salome's orders were obeyed ; and to one of the old domestics 
 and me was destined the undivided honor. 
 
 I found the wounded of&cer lying on the spot where I had 
 parted with him, gazing on the moon and humming a gay air 
 of Italy in a most melancholy tone. He had made up his 
 reckoning with this world, and calmly waiting until some 
 Jewish knife should ptit an end to his troubles, he determined 
 to save himself from the trouble of thinking, and die like a 
 man who had nothing better to do. But the struggle was 
 against nature, and as I slowly felt my way along the ob- 
 scure passages, I had time to hear the song flutter and now 
 and then a groan supersede it altogether. My step now caught 
 
 403 
 
^Tarrs ^bou ^ill H Come 
 
 Ube iRoman his quick ear, and I heard in return the ringing of a sword 
 •nesotiates pi^g^ed sharply from the scabbard. 
 
 The bold Koman, reckless as he was of life, was evidently 
 resolved not to let it go without its price, and it was prob- 
 ably fortunate for me, or my old and tottering fellow phi- 
 lanthropist, that the ruinous state of the passages compelled 
 us to take time in our advance. 
 
 "Two of them," I heard him mutter as we gradually 
 worked our way toward the light ; " two, and perhaps twenty 
 at their backs." 
 
 He tried to raise himself, leaning on one hand, and with 
 the other feebly pointing the falchion to keep us off. 
 
 "Thieves," said he, "let us understand each other. If you 
 must cut my throat, you must fight for it, and, after all, I 
 have nothing to make it worth your trouble. By Jove and 
 Venus," and he laughed with the strange jocularity that 
 sometimes besets the bold in the last peril, "the cleverest 
 robber in Jerusalem could make nothing of me." 
 
 I stood in the shadow, while he again tried his expostula- 
 tion. 
 
 " My clothes would not sell for the smallest coin in your 
 sashes; I could not furnish out a scarecrow — yet Jewish 
 patriots, or thieves, or saints, or all together, I will tell you 
 how you can make money of me. Take me to the Romar 
 camp, and I answer for your fortune on the spot. " 
 
 I laughed in my turn. 
 
 "By all that's honest, I never was more serious in my 
 life, " said he ; " far be it from me to trifle with heroes of your 
 profession. You shall have my helmetful of gold Vespa- 
 sians." 
 
 "Well, then," said I, coming forward, "you shall live at 
 least for to-night ; but there is one condition which I can not 
 give up " 
 
 "Of course, that I give you two hebnetsful instead of 
 one. Agreed." 
 
 " The condition from which nothing can make me recede 
 is " 
 
 " Three times the money, or ten times the money? " 
 
 404 
 
B ffatal Sign 
 
 I pondered. Tlie old domestic stared at us both. Septimfua 
 
 "Why, you extravagant Jew, have you no conscience? «*««"3« 
 Recollect how little the lives of half the generals in the 
 service are worth half the sum. But say anything" short of 
 the military chest — out with the condition at once." 
 
 "That you come instantly with me — to supper." 
 
 The formidable stipulation was gaily acceded to. The old 
 domestic and I supported him up the stairs, whose condition, 
 as he afterward allowed, led him still to nurture shrewd 
 doubt of Jewish hospitality. But when I opened the door of 
 the chamber and he saw the striking preparations within, he 
 uttered a cry of surprise, and turning, bowed with Italian 
 grace, in tacit acknowledgment of the wrong that he had done 
 me. 
 
 As I led liiTTi forward and the light fell on his features, I 
 saw Esther's countenance glow with crimson. The Roman 
 pronounced her name and flew over to her. Miriam — we all 
 in the same moment recognized the stranger, and every lip at 
 once uttered " Septimius ! " 
 
 A few campaigns in the imperial guard had changed the 
 handsome Italian boy, the friend and favorite of Constantius, 
 into the showy of&cer, the friend and favorite of everybody ; 
 with the elegance of the court, and the freedom of the camp, 
 he had inherited from nature the easy lightness and animation 
 of temper that neither can give. Nothing could be more amu- 
 sing than the restless round of anecdote that he kept up 
 through the night. The circle in which he found himself, 
 contrasted with the wretchedness of the few hours before, let 
 his recollections flow with wild vivacity. His stories of the 
 imperial tent were new to us, and he told them with the 
 taste of a man of high breeding and the sarcastic finish of a 
 keen observer of the absurdities that will creep in even 
 among the mighty and the wise of the world. 
 
 In our several ways he delighted us all. Constantius 
 seemed to gain new health in laughing at the histories of his 
 military friends. Salome's face glistened with the vividness 
 so long chased away by sorrow, as the manners of Rome passed 
 before her in the liveliest colors of pleasantry. Esther 
 
 405 
 
tTatrs TTbou XLHl H Come 
 
 H precatlouB treasured every -word witt an emotion that fluctuated across 
 pas on j^g^ beauty like the opening and shutting of a rose under the 
 evening breeze. I was interested by the pungent sketches of 
 public character that started up in the midst of sportive de- 
 scription. Miriam alone was reluctant, and her glance fre- 
 quently rested with pain on Esther's hectic cheek. But even 
 Miriam at times gave way to the voice of the charmer ; her 
 fears were forgotten, and she joined in the general smile. 
 
 When the women retired, we held a short consultation on 
 the means of restoring our guest to his friends. In the im- 
 mediate temper of the city, to be seen was certain death, and 
 no pacific intercourse with the besiegers could be expected 
 after our enormous iufraction of treaty. Constantius urged 
 the despatch of a private messenger to the camp with the pro- 
 posal of a plan for his escape. To my surprise, and certainly 
 to my gratification, Septimius himself flatly negatived the 
 measure. 
 
 " It has too much hazard for my taste," said he sportively. 
 " Your messenger will probably be caught by the people and 
 as probablj' hanged ; or if he reach the camp, he will be hanged 
 there inevitably. Jewish credit, I regret to say, will not 
 stand high within these twelve hours, with my countrymen. 
 If the fellow die here like a woman, with a story in his 
 mouth, you will all be brought under the justice of your 
 sovereign lord the mob. If my countrymen inflict the ax, 
 you are not the safer, for every peasant about the camp is a 
 spy, and the news will travel here in the next half -hour, and 
 after all, your trouble will be thrown away. Titus has good- 
 nature enough, and probably would not wish to see me hoisted 
 on the top of a pike on your gates ; but he is a furious dis- 
 ciplinarian, swears by the law of honor and arms, and is, I 
 can well believe, chafing like a roused lion against every one 
 who has had a share in this day's business. I myself should 
 have a chance of hanging, for an example, if I returned be- 
 fore his imperial displeasure had time to cool. So I must 
 trespass on your hospitality for a day or two." 
 
 " But what is to be finally done? " said I. " The armistice 
 can never be tried again." 
 
 406 
 
21 jFatal Sign 
 
 " Why not? Do you think that the loss of a few troopers mtiam'e Stm 
 can make any difference? Out of twenty thousand cavalry, ""^ °" 
 we can easily spare a hundred. Those things have happened 
 once a week since the begianing of the campaign. They agree 
 with our notions admirably. The survivors get promotion, 
 and whatever libation they may offer for their good luck ; it 
 is certainly not tears. A stupid officer, and on this occasion I 
 fairly reckon myself among the number, is taken off the 
 muster-roll, before he might have the opportunity of doing 
 mischief by some blunder on a larger scale. Experience is 
 gained; we are entrapped no more, at least in the same 
 way ; and a group of unfortunates, who have spent half their 
 li-ves in being browbeaten by their superiors, suddenly start 
 into rank, become superiors themselves, and learn to brow- 
 beat in their turn. You will have the armistice again in a 
 week." 
 
 This confession of soldiership repelled me a little, but its 
 air of frankness and disregard of chance and care carried it 
 off showily. I, too, was but a peasant-soldier, with my heart 
 in everything. The man before me was a son of the camp, 
 the professional warrior, whose business it was to stifle all 
 feelings but those of the camp. Yet heroism and hard-hearted- 
 fiess — I could not join them. I had still something to learn, 
 and the gay philosopher of the sword lost ground with me. 
 
 I was retiring for the night when I felt the soft hand of 
 Miriam on my shoulder. 
 
 " I have been anxious," she said, " to ask your opinion about 
 this Eoman." 
 
 Her fine countenance, that reflected every emotion of her 
 spirit like a mirror, showed that the subject was one of deep 
 interest. " Is misfortune always to pursue us, Salathiel? " 
 
 "In what new shape now? " said I. "We have spent some 
 hours, as amusing as I ever remember. What can have oc- 
 curred since this morning, when your philosophy made so 
 light of our actual evils? " 
 
 "For external evils I have but little feeling," was her 
 answer; "but I see in the chance that brought the Roman 
 here to-night something of the fate which you have so often 
 
 407 
 
Satrs tTbou trill f Come 
 
 Saiatbfei on thought to follow your house. I tremble for Esther's peace 
 tia (Buats ^j ^.j^^_ ,y^^^ jj gj^g should be attracted by this idolater? " 
 
 " Esther ! my darling Esther ! love an alien, a Roman, an 
 idolater? What an abyss you open before me! " I exclaimed, 
 ■with a sudden sense of evil. 
 
 There was a pause ; my wife again spoke. 
 
 "WhiLe Septimius remained among us in the mountains, I 
 saw with terror that Esther's beauty attracted him. His Ital- 
 ian elegance was even then a dangerous charm for a mind so 
 inexperienced and so sensitive as hers. I knew the impossi- 
 bility of their union, and rejoiced when his recovery allowed 
 of his leaving the palace. But for a long period after, Esther 
 was evidently unhappy; her cheerfulness gave way; she be- 
 came fonder of solitude, and I believe that nothing but ex- 
 treme care and the change of scene which followed, preserved 
 her from the grave." 
 
 " Miriam ! I have no comfort to offer. I am a stricken man ; 
 misfortune must be my portion. But if anything were to be- 
 reave me of that girl, I feel that my heart would break. We 
 must delay no longer. By the first light the B,oman shall quit 
 this house — this city. He shall not stay another hour to 
 poison the peace of my family — the only peace that I now 
 can possess in this world." 
 
 " Yet rashness must not disgrace what is true wisdom, my 
 Salathiel. The Eoman is here protected by the laws of cour- 
 tesy. You can not send him forth without giving him over to 
 the horrid temper of the populace. A few days may make 
 that escape easy which would now be impossible. Besides, I 
 may have done him injustice, and mistaken the common 
 pleasure of seeing unexpected friends for the attempt to mis- 
 lead the affections of our innocent and ardent child. " 
 
 "No! By the first light he leaves this roof. The truth 
 glares on me. I might have seen it in his looks. His lan- 
 guage, however general, was perpetually directed to Esther 
 by some personal allusion. His voice lost its ease when he 
 answered a syllable of hers. After she spoke he affected ab- 
 straction — an old artifice. His manner is too well calculated 
 to disturb the mind of woman — and most of all of woman 
 
 408 
 
% afatal Sign 
 
 cursed witli feeling and genius. Esther has already exalted ube ®mJnon« 
 this showy stranger into a wonder. I must break the spell. ®""'"' »pp«" 
 What is to become of her, of me, man of misery? By the 
 first dawn the Eoman takes his departure." 
 
 In the bitterness of soul I turned from the chamber, where 
 the lamp was still burning and the glittering table looked too 
 bright for the gloomy spirit of the hour. The cool air that 
 breathed through a casement led me toward it, and disin- 
 clined to speak and holding Miriam's gentle hand, I listened 
 to the confused murmurs of the city far below. I suddenly 
 felt the hand in miue tremble convulsively. Miriam's face 
 was pale with fear ; she stood with lips apart and breathless, 
 brows raised, eyes straining upward. In utter alarm I asked 
 the cause. She lifted the hand, which had fallen by her side, 
 and slowly, like the staff of the soothsayer, pointed it to the 
 heavens. The cause was there. The ominous sword had for 
 the first time met her eye. The blaze, which even in noonday 
 was fearfully visible, in midnight was tremendous. A blade 
 of the deepest hue of gore stretched to the horizon, pouring 
 from its edge perpetual showers of crimson flame, that looked 
 like showers of fresh blood. Boundless slaughter was in 
 the emblem. Beyond it the circle of the sky was wan ; the 
 stars sickened, and the moon, tho at the full, hung like an 
 orb of lead. The mighty falchion, the pledge of an inevi- 
 table judgment," extinguished all the beneficent splendors of 
 heaven. 
 
 " There, there is the sign that I have seen for months in 
 my dreams," said Miriam iu an awed voice ; " that has haunted 
 me when I laid my head upon the pillow ; that has been be- 
 fore my mind in the day wherever I moved ; that I have seen 
 coloring every object, every moment of my life since I entered 
 these fated walls. I have struggled to drive away the horrid 
 image ; I have wept and prayed. But it was where nothing 
 could unfix it. It was pictured on my soul, and with it came 
 other images, fearful, tho they brought me no terrors — 
 melancholy sights to those who have no hope but here, yet 
 glorious to the servants of the truth, Salathiel. I have had 
 warnings. I must never leave the city of David." 
 
 409 
 
Vatcs ^bou UiU f dome 
 
 flBfriam com« She knelt in the deep prayer of the soul. Her words came 
 orta Salatblel ^^ ^^ ^^^j^ ^j^g power of prophecy,, 
 
 "King and protector of Israel! " I exclaimed, "is this to be 
 the suffering of Thy people? On me let Thy wrath be done, 
 but spare her who now kneels before Thee. Are the pure to be 
 given into the hands of the merciless and Thy children to be 
 trampled as the ashes of the unholy? " 
 
 My impatient voice caught Miriam's ear, and she rose with 
 a countenance beaming piety and love. 
 
 " Salathiel, we must not murmur. Even that sight of awe, 
 that terrible emblem, has taught me the selfishness of my 
 anxieties. What are our personal sorrows to the weight of 
 affliction figured in that instrument of supreme justice? The 
 wo of millions, the blood of a nation, the ruin of the glorious 
 Law, built by the hands of the Eternal, for the glory and 
 good of mankind, are written in words of flame before our 
 eyes ; and can I complain of the perils which may fall to my 
 share? Henceforth, my husband and my love" — and she 
 threw herself into my willing arms — " you shall never be dis- 
 turbed with my sorrows ; exercise your own powerful under- 
 standing, guard against evil by your talents and knowledge of 
 life, as far as it can be guarded against by man, and beyond 
 that, cease to repine or fear. In my supplication I have com- 
 mitted our darling child into the hands of Him who sitteth 
 within the circle of eternity ! " 
 
 Quivering with every finer feeling of the heart, maternal 
 love, matron faith, and grateful adoration, she hung upon my 
 neck, until as if a portion of her noble spirit had passed into 
 mine, I felt a confidence and a consolation like her own. 
 
 410 
 
CHAPTER LIV 
 
 Concerning Septimias 
 
 I WAS spared the ungraciousness of urging the young ^„&> a.vx, Sus 
 soldier's departure, for when I met him on the next morning pic'""* 
 his first topic was escape. He had been since daybreak ex- 
 amining from my turrets the accessible passages of the forti- 
 fications, and had even, by the help of a peasant, despatched 
 a letter to his friends, requesting either a formal demand of 
 his person from the Jews, or some priyate effort to extricate 
 him. 
 
 But this glow of society was transient. In the fall of his 
 charger he had been violently bruised. He now complained of 
 inward suffering, and his pallid face and feeble words gave 
 painful proof that he had much still to undergo, tho, even 
 if he was perfectly recovered, the crowded battlements and 
 the popular rage showed the impossibility of immediate re- 
 turn. 
 
 Three days passed thus drearily. At home I was surrounded 
 by sickness or vexed by suspicion — the worst sickness of the 
 mind. Septimius lay in his chamber, struggling to laugh, 
 talk, and read away the heavy hours, and finally, like all 
 such strugglers, giving up the task in despair. His thoughts 
 were in the Eoman camp. He professed gratitude of the deep- 
 est nature for the service that I had done him now for the 
 second time, if saving so unimportant a life was a service 
 either to him or any one else. Yet he almost wished that he 
 had been left where he was found. 
 
 At such times his voice sank, and he was evidently thinking 
 of subjects near to his heart. 
 
 Then his soldiership would come again — a man could not 
 finish his course better than among his gallant comrades ; and 
 
 411 
 
UarcB XTbou tTlII IF Come 
 
 TOatcbei bs a with all his anxiety to return, he felt no trivial concern as 
 "* to the view which Titus might take of the whole unfortunate 
 affair. Of justice he was secure ; but to be questioned for his 
 military conduct was in itself a degradation. The loss of 
 Sempronius, too, the most confidential friend and counselor 
 of the Emperor, would weigh heavily — while there was nothing 
 but his own testimony to sustain his honor against the crowd 
 of secret enemies that every man of military rank was certain 
 to have. 
 
 "In short," said he, "on my sleepless couch I have turned 
 true penitent for the foolish curiosity which prompted me to 
 solicit the command of an escort, which would have been by 
 right put under the care of some mere tribune. " 
 
 I tried to cheer him by saying that his had been only the 
 natural desire of an active mind to see so singular a scene as 
 our city offered, or the honorable wish of a soldier to be fore- 
 most wherever there was anything to be done. 
 
 "It was more than either," said he; "there was actual 
 illusion in the case. I now feel that I was practised upon. 
 You know the strange concourse of all kinds of people that 
 follow a camp for all kinds of purposes — plunderers, traders, 
 and jugglers, crowding on our movements as regularly as the 
 vultures, and with nearly the same objects. Por a week past 
 I had found myself beset by an old gibbering slave of this 
 class. Wherever I rode, the fellow was before my eyes ; he 
 contrived to mingle with my servants, and became a sort of 
 favorite by selling them counterfeit rings and gems at ten 
 times their value. The wretch was clever, too, and as my 
 tent-hours began to be disturbed by the unusual gaiety of the 
 listeners to his lies, I ordered him to be flogged out of the lines. 
 But twelve hours had not passed before I found him gambol- 
 ing again, and was about to order the instant iafliction of the 
 discipline, when he threw himself on the ground and implored 
 'a moment of my secret ear.' Conceive who the fellow was? " 
 
 " The impostor who harangued in the square ! " 
 
 "The very man. He told me that there were certaia con- 
 trivances on foot to bring me into disfavor with the general, 
 which I knew to be the fact. He gave me the names of the 
 
 412 
 
QoncctninQ Septimius 
 
 parties, which I felt to be sufficiently probable, and finished supeb 6? i 
 by saying that, having so long eaten of my bread (a Week), and ^** " 
 enjoyed my liberality (the scourge), he longed to show his 
 gratitude by giving me an opportunity of putting my enemies 
 to silence on the spot. This opportunity was to solicit the 
 command of the escort required for the mission. How he 
 gained his wisdom I know not, but I took the advice, went at 
 once to Titus, found that an armistice was being debated in 
 council, that there was some difficulty in the choice of an 
 officer for the service (by no means likely to be a sinecure in 
 point of either judgment or hazard), stepped forward, and, to 
 the surprise of everybody, disclaimed the privileges of my rank 
 and insisted on marchiag at the head of this handful, this 
 outpost-guard,, into the formidable city of Jerusalem." 
 
 "His object, of course," said I, "was your destruction. I 
 now see the cause of the harangue that roused the people ; he 
 was in the pay of the conspirators against you. Yet his ap- 
 pearance was striking; there was a vigor about his look and 
 language, a fierce consciousness of power somewhere, that 
 distinguished him from his race. He came, too, and has dis- 
 appeared, without my being able to discover whence or 
 whither." 
 
 "Oh, the commonest contrivance of his trade," was the 
 reply. "Those fellows always come and go in cloud, if they 
 can. He was probably beside you half the day before and 
 after. You saw how little he thought of the lance, that I sent 
 to bring out his hidden secrets. He doubtless wore armor ; 
 otherwise there would have been one juggler the less in the 
 world. The truth is, I have been duped, but I have made up 
 my mind to think nothing about the dupery. The slave is 
 certainly clever, perhaps to an extraordinary degree — a vil- 
 lain undoubtedly, and of the first magnitude. But he has the 
 secret of the cabal against me, and that secret makes him at 
 once fit to be employed, and dangerous to be provoked. The 
 blow of the lance yesterday showed him that I am not always 
 to be trifled with. In fact, prince, you might find it advan- 
 tageous to employ him occasionally yourself. It was he who 
 conveyed my letter to the camp this morning I " 
 
 418 
 
XTacrs ^bou q;uI IT Come 
 
 Secret Dtepa> My look probably expressed my dislike of this species of 
 Bepatture envoy. 
 
 "You may rely on my honor," said the Eoman, "not to 
 involve you in any of the fellow's inventions. Slippery as he 
 is, I have a hold on him, too, that he will not venture to 
 shake off. And now, to let you into full confidence, I expect 
 hiTTi back this very night, when he wUl relieve your city of an 
 inhabitant unworthy of remaining among so polished a people ; 
 and your house, my prince, of an inmate than whom none on 
 earth can be more grateful for your hospitality." 
 
 He concluded this mixture of levity, address, and frank- 
 ness with a smile, and in a tone of elegance, that compelled 
 me to take it all on the more favorable side. But against 
 suffering the step of his strange emissary to pollute the 
 threshold in which I lived, I expressed my plain determina- 
 tion. 
 
 " For that, too, I have provided," said he. " My intercourse 
 with the reprobate is to take place at another quarter of the 
 city, as far as possible from This dwelling," and he laughed, 
 " for reasons equally of mine and yours. I have managed mat- 
 ters so as not to compromise any of my friends ; and to make 
 my arrangements on that point still more secure, may I ex- 
 press a wish that neither Constantius nor any other person of 
 your house may be acquainted with my intention of leaving 
 them, and I may siucerely sfl.y, leaving everything that could 
 grratify my best feelings — this very evening." 
 
 This was an easy and graceful avoidance of the difficulties 
 which his longer residence threatened. I gave him the 
 promise of secrecy, cautioning him against reposing any dan- 
 gerous confidence in his emissary, of whom I had an irre- 
 pressible abhorrence, and was about to leave the chamber when 
 he caught my hand and said in unusual emotion : 
 
 "Prince of Naphtali, I have but one word more to say. You 
 are a man of the world and can make allowance for the gid- 
 diness of hiiman passions. Some of them are uncontrollable, 
 or at least I have never learned to control them, and in me 
 perhaps they belong to inferiority of mind. But if on my de- 
 parture you should hear calumnies against me " 
 
 414 
 
Concerning Septimius 
 
 "Impossible, my young friend: or if I should, you may Sep«m(u» 
 rely on my giving the calumniators a very brief answer." 
 
 " Or if even yourself should be disposed to think severely 
 of me, you know the circumstances under which a man of 
 birth and fortune must be placed in our profession." 
 
 "Fully, and am much more disposed to regret than to 
 wonder at the consequences." 
 
 " If you should hear that I had been assailed in an evil 
 hour by an unexpected temptation which I had long labored 
 to resist, assailed by it under the most powerful circumstances 
 that ever yet tasked the human mind, circumstances to which, 
 from the beginning of the world, wisdom has been proverbially 
 folly, and resolution weakness ; if it should have mastered my 
 whole being, soul and body ; if I were willing to give up the 
 brightest prospects for its possession — to hazard life, hope, 
 honors " 
 
 The thought of Esther smote me. I started from him where 
 he stood, with his fine head drooping like the Antinous and 
 his figure the very emblem of passionate dejection. 
 
 " Eoman, you are here as my guest, and as such I have 
 listened to you with patience until now. But if any member 
 of my family is concerned in what you say, I demand in the 
 most distinct terms that the subject shall be mentioned no 
 more. The daughters of Israel are sacred. Never shall a 
 child of mine wed with those who now lord it over my un- 
 happy country." 
 
 He spread his hands and eyes in the broadest astonishment. 
 
 "Prince, can it be possible that you have so totally mis- 
 taken me? My perplexities are of an entirely different nature. 
 The charu with which I am bound is not of roses, but of iron ; 
 a chain of invisible, yet stern influences, that haunt my night, 
 and even my day." 
 
 His voice faltered, and he turned away with a shudder, as 
 from a visionary tormentor. 
 
 "What? Has that man of desperate arts, if he be man, in- 
 volved you, too, in his net? Dares the impostor soar so high?" 
 He clasped his hands. 
 "You saw how he defied, how he mocked me, how he 
 
 415 
 
XL&tvs ^bou XTill IT Gome 
 
 "»e a a>an— spurned me when my abhorrence rose to the madness of at- 
 tempting to strike him. I might as -well have flung the 
 ■weapon at the clouds. You saw the instinctiTe terror of my 
 charger. That animal was celebrated in our whole cayalry for 
 its bold, nay, fierce courage. Yet before the eye of that man 
 of power and evil, it cowered Uke a hare and died of his 
 glance. By him the temptation has been offered ; of its nature 
 I dare not speak ; but it is dazzling, fearful, and must — I feel 
 it — finally be fatal." 
 
 "Then cast it from you at once. Be a man — a hero." 
 " It is hopeless — I must be the victim ; I am bound irre- 
 trievably. Farewell, prince; we shall see each other no 
 more." 
 
 He flung himself upon the couch. I offered him assistance, 
 advice, consolation in vain. The spirit of the soldier was ex- 
 tinguished. The victim of fantastic illusion lay before me. 
 I left him to the care of the old domestics, and when I closed 
 the door, thought that I had closed the door of the grave. 
 
 416 
 
CHAPTER LV 
 
 Sahthiet a Prisoner 
 
 DuKtKG this period the city presented the turbulent aspect Ube ti»anit« ot 
 that must result from the concourse of vast warlike multi- 
 tudes, known only by hereditary bickerings. The clansmaD. of 
 Judah looked down upon every human being, and his country- 
 men among the rest. The Benjamite retorted it, boasted of 
 the inheritance of Jerusalem, and looked down upon the men 
 of the Galilees as rioters and plunderers. These, too, had 
 their objects of scorn, and the remnants of Dan and Ephraim. 
 were held in merciless disdain as the descendants of rebels 
 and idolaters. To deepen those ancient feuds were thrown in 
 the mutual injuries of the factions of John and Simon. Their 
 leaders were now but the shadow of what they had been ; yet 
 the memory of their mischiefs survived with a keenness ag- 
 gravated by the public discovery of the insignificance of the 
 instruments. 
 
 Genius in the tyrant offers the consolation that if the chain 
 has galled us, it has been bound by a hand made for supremacy. 
 But the last misery of the slave is to have been bound by a 
 creature even more contemptible than himself ; to have given 
 to folly the homage due to talent ; to have stooped before the 
 base and trembled under the feeble. 
 
 The obvious alarm of the enemy, who had now totally with- 
 drawn from the plain and were occupied with raising rampart 
 on rampart round their several camps ; the triumph over the 
 unfortunate troop ; and the excitement of a crowd of pretended 
 prophets and frantic visionaries, filled the populace with every 
 vanity of conquest. The constant exclamation in the streets 
 was : " Let us march to storm the camps and drive the idol- 
 ater into the sea! " But the new luxuries of the city were too 
 congenial not to act as formidable rivals to the popular am- 
 
 »^ at* 
 
xrarrs XSbon ^Hl IT Come 
 
 sabat'a bition. No leader appeared, the boastings passed away, and 
 raiiansetfng ^j^^ boiling temperament of the warrior had time to run into 
 the safer channel of words and wine. 
 
 Still one melancholy reminder was there. Through the 
 wildest festivity, through the groups of drinking, dancing, 
 bravadoing, and quarreling, Sabat the Ishmaelite moved day 
 after day, from dawn till evening, pouring out his sentences 
 of condemnation. Nothing could be more singular or more 
 awful than his figure as the denouncer of ruin hurried along, 
 like a being denuded of all objects in life but the one. The 
 multitude in their most extravagant excesses felt undissem- 
 bled fear before him. I have seen the most ferocious tumult 
 stilled by the sound of his portentous voice ; the dagger in- 
 stantly sheathed ; the head buried in the garment ; the form 
 often prostrate until he passed by. Where he went the song 
 of license was dumb ; the dance ceased ; the cup fell from the 
 hand; and many a lip of violence and blasphemy quivered 
 with long-forgotten prayer. 
 
 How he sustained life none could tell. He was reduced to 
 a shadow ; his eye had the yellow glare of blindness ; his once 
 raven hair was of the whiteness of flax. He was an animated 
 corpse. But he strode onward with a force which, if few at- 
 tempted to resist, none seemed able to withstand; his ges- 
 tures were rapid and nervous to an extraordinary degree, and 
 his voice was overwhelming. It had the rush and volume of 
 a powerful blast. Even in the clamor of the day, through the 
 Innumerable voices of the streets, it was audible from the re- 
 motest quarters of the city. I heard it through the tread and 
 shouts of fifty thousand marching men. But in twilight and 
 silence the eternal "Wo! — wo! — wo!" howled along the 
 air with a sound that told of nothing human. 
 
 His unfortunate bride still followed him, never uttering a 
 word, never looking but on him. She glided along with him 
 ■ n 1 Ar. owiftest course, as bound by a spell to wander where 
 he wandered, an unconscious slave ; her form almost a shadow ; 
 without a sound, a gesture, «*i a glance — her feet aloae moved. 
 
 I often attempted to render this undone pair some assist- 
 ance. Sabat recognized me, and retained brief thanks, and 
 
 418 
 
Salatblel a ptteonec 
 
 perhaps I was the only man in Jerusalem to whom he vouch- satatwei'a 
 saf ed either thanks or memory. But he uniformly refused aid "of m?*" 
 of every kind, and reproaching himself for the moment given 
 to human recollections, burst away and again began his denun- 
 ciation of " Wo ! — wo ! — wo ! " 
 
 The hope of treaty with the besiegers was now nearly 
 desperate ; yet I felt so deeply the ruin that must follow pro- 
 tracted war that I had labored with incessant anxiety to bring 
 the people to a sense of their situation. My name was high ; 
 my decided refusal of all conunand gave me an influence 
 which threw more grasping ambition into the shade ; and the 
 leading men of Jerusalem were glad to delegate their power 
 to me, with the double object of relieving themselves from an 
 effort to which they were unequal, and from a responsibility 
 under which even their covetousness had begun to tremble. 
 
 But Jerusalem was not to be saved;" there was an op- 
 posing fatality — an irresistible, intangible power arrayed 
 against all efforts. I felt it at my first step. If I had been 
 treading on a volcano and heard it roar under me, I could not 
 have been made more sensible of the hoUowness and hope- 
 lessness of every effort to save the nation. In the midst of 
 our most according council some luckless impediment was 
 sure to start up. While we seemed on the verge of concilia- 
 ting and securing the most important interests, to that verge 
 we were suddenly forbidden all approach. Communications 
 actually commenced with the Koman general, and which 
 promised the most certain results, were broken off, none could 
 tell how. There was an antagonist somewhere, but beyond 
 our grasp ; a hostility as powerful, as constant, and as little 
 capable of being counteracted as the hostility of the plague. 
 
 After my final conversation with Septimius, I had spent the 
 day in one of those perplexing deliberations, and was return- 
 ing with a weary heart when, in an obscure street leading into 
 the Upper City, I was roused from my reverie by the sound 
 of one of our mountain songs. Music has been among my 
 chief solaces through existence, and the song of Naphtali in 
 that moment of depression keenly moved me, I stopped to 
 listen in front of the minstrel's tent, in which a circle oi sol- 
 
 410 
 
Sarcs ^bou itTill IT dome 
 
 "EBtberte diers and slieplierds from the Galilees were sitting over their 
 cups. His s^ill deserved a higher audience. He touched his 
 little harp with elegance to a voice that reminded me of the 
 sportiveness and wild melody of a bird iu spring. The moon- 
 light shone through the tent, and as the boy sat under its 
 large white folds in the fantastic dress of his art — a loose 
 vermilion robe, belted with sparkling stones, and turban of 
 yellow silk, that drooped upon his shoulder like a golden 
 pinion — he resembled the Persian pictures of the Peri em- 
 bosomed in the bell of the lily. The rude and dark-featured 
 listeners round him might well have sat for the swart demons 
 submissive to his will. 
 
 But thoughts soon returned that were not to be soothed by 
 music, and throwing some pieces of money to the boy, I 
 hastened on. The departure of the young Eoman and the in- 
 fluence that it might have on my family, and peculiarly on 
 the mind of a creature doubly endeared to me by a strange 
 and melancholy similitude to the temper of my own excitable 
 mind, deeply occupied me, and it was even with some pre- 
 sentiment of evil that I reached home. 
 
 The first sound that I heard was the lamentation of the old 
 domestics. But I could not wait to solve their unintelligible 
 attempts to explain the disaster. I flew to my family. 
 Miriam was absorbed in profound sorrow ; Salome was in loud 
 affliction. Dreading everything that could be told me, yet 
 with that sullen hardihood which long misfortune gives, I 
 took my wife's hands and in a voice struggling for composure 
 desired her to tell me the worst at once. 
 
 "Esther is gone I " was her answer. 
 
 She could articulate no more ; the effort to speak this shook 
 her whole frame. But Salome broke out into loud reprobation 
 of the baseness of the wretch who had turned our hospitality 
 into a snare, and whose life, twice saved, was employed only 
 to bring misery on his preserver. 
 
 The blow feU. upon me with the keenness of a sword. 
 
 "Was Esther, was my daugnter, my innocent, darling 
 Esther, consenting to this flight? " 
 
 " I know not," said Miriam. " I dare not ask myself the 
 
 430 
 
Salatbfel a prteonec 
 
 question. If slie can liave forgotten her duty to follow the satatbtei <soee 
 stranger ; if she can have left her parents — no. It must have * * ^'™* 
 been through some horrid artifice. But the thought is too 
 bitter. Eaise no more such thoughts in my mind." 
 
 She sank in silence. But Salome was not to be restrained. 
 She asserted the total impossibility of Esther's having thrown 
 off her allegiance to religion and filial duty. 
 
 " She must have been," said this generous and enthusiastic 
 being, "either subjected to those dreadful arts in, which the 
 idolaters deal, or carried away by force. Constantius has gone 
 already in search of her ; feeble as he is, he determined to 
 discover the robber, and tho his steps were weak and the 
 effort may hazard his life, he would not be restrained, nor 
 would I restrain him where I should have so much rejoiced to 
 hazard my own." 
 
 I rose to depart. Miriam clung to me. 
 
 "Must I lose all, Salathiel? " 
 
 " I am the guilty one, wife ! I should have guarded against 
 this. I alone am to blame. I will recover Esther. Without 
 her we all should be miserable. The Roman general is just. 
 I will demand her of Septimius in his presence. Miriam! 
 you shall see your child. Salome ! you shall see your sister. 
 And now, come to my heart — come both; my last hope of 
 happiness, the remnant of all that once promised to fill my 
 declining days with peace and prosperity. Weep no more, 
 Miriam, Salome ! I must not be unmanned at this time of 
 trial. Go to your chambers and pray for me. Earewell ! " 
 
 It was nearly midnight and the city sounds were hushed, 
 except where the crowds, which stni poured in, struggled for 
 their quarters. The very fear of being thus disturbed kept up 
 the disturbance of the population, and in the leading avenues 
 the tents showed fierce watchers against this violence sitting 
 round their tables, until wine either sent them to sleep or 
 roused them into daggers-drawing. Subordination was now 
 at an end ; plunder and blood were to be dreaded by every 
 man who ventured among those champions of freedom and 
 property; and more than once this night I was compelled to 
 show that I wore a weapon. 
 
 421 
 
tTarts Ubou ITfll f Gome 
 
 SaiatMei'a ©ft Yet the disorder wMch left the city a seat of dissolute riot 
 *"""^ was not suffered to interfere with its actual defense. That 
 singular mixture of rabble giddiness and sacred care which 
 distinguished my countrymen above all nations was fully dis- 
 played in those final hours, and the walls that enclosed a 
 million of rioters and robbers were guarded with the solemn 
 vigilance of a sanctuary. 
 
 No argument could prevail with the peasantry at the gates 
 to let me pass. My rank, and even my public name, went for 
 little in the scale against the possibility of my renewing the 
 treaty with an enemy whom they now scorned, and I was 
 doubting whether I must not lose the night by the reluctance 
 of those rough but honest sentinels, when I was cheered by 
 seeing one of the head men of their tribe arrive. He had been 
 a furious partizan ; honor and honesty were his declared wor- 
 ship, and his horror of humbler motives was fierceness itself. 
 This was enough for me. I knew what public vehemence 
 means. I took him aside, without ceremony put gold i;ito his 
 grasp, and saw the gate thrown open before me by the im- 
 maculate hand of the patriotic Jonathan. 
 
 While I had scarcely congratulated myself on having 
 passed this formidable barrier and was still within the de- 
 fenses, the trampling of horse echoed on the road. The night 
 was clear, and there was no hope of avoiding them. A large 
 hody of Idumean horsemen came on, escorting wagons of pro- 
 vision. The foremost riders were half asleep, and I was in 
 strong hope of eluding them all when one of the drivers, in 
 the wantonness of authority, laid his whip on me. I rashly 
 returned the blow, and the man fell off his horse. I was sur- 
 rounded, charged with murder; was brought before their 
 chieftain, and found that chieftain Onias ! 
 
 My old enemy recognized me instantly, and with undying 
 revenge firing every feature demanded whither I was going. 
 
 "To the Eoman camp," was the direct answer. 
 
 "The purpose?" 
 
 "To have an interview with the Eoman general." 
 
 " You come deputed by the authorities? " 
 
 "By not one of them." 
 
Salatbfel a iptisoncc 
 
 " I long ago knew you to be a daring fellow, but you ex- ttbe tugbt ot 
 ceed my opinion. We can not spare beroes from Jerusalem at 
 tHis time; you must turn back witb us." 
 
 "By whatrigbt?" 
 
 "By tbe rigbt of tbe stronger." 
 
 "With what object?" 
 
 "That you may be hanged as a deserter. It will save you 
 the trouble of going to Titus, to be hanged as a spy." 
 
 I disdained reply, and in the midst of a circle of barbarians 
 exulting over their capture, as if they had taken the chief 
 enemy of the state, was marched back to the walls. 
 
 There I was not the only person disturbed by the adven- 
 ture. The first glimpse of me caught by Jonathan exhibited 
 everything that could be ludicrous in the shape of consterna- 
 tion. To the iacLuiries how I was suffered to pass he answered 
 by an appeal to his "honor," which he again valued, in my 
 presence too, " as the most invaluable possession o:^ the citizen 
 soldier." He said the words without a blush, and I even 
 listened io them without a smile. He probably trembled a 
 little J for his bribe; but he soon discovered by my look that I 
 considered the money as too far gone to be worth pursuing. 
 
 Yet Onias, who seemed to know him as well as I, fixed on 
 him a scrutinizing aspect, of all others the most hateful to a 
 delicate conscience, and his only resource was to heap op- 
 probrium upon me. 
 
 "How I had contrived to escape the guard," said Jonathan, 
 "was totally inconceivable, unless it was by"^i gave him an 
 assuring glance — "by imposing on the credulity of some of 
 the ignorant peasants; possibly even by direct corruption. 
 But to put the matter but of future possibility he would pro- 
 ceed to examine the prisoner's person." 
 
 He proceeded accordingly, and from my sash took my 
 purse, as a public precaution. He was a vigUant guardian of 
 the state, for the purse was never restored. 
 
 Onias looked at him during his harangue with a countenance 
 between contempt and ridicule. 
 
 "I must go forward now," said he; "but, captain, see to 
 your prisoner. He must answer before the council to-mor- 
 
^accg Hbou Zm V Gome 
 
 SaUtbCei row, and as you have so worthily disabled him from opera- 
 Uower tions with the guard, your own head is answerable for hia 
 safe-keeping." 
 
 My enemy, to make all sure, himself saw me lodged within 
 the tower over the gate, comforted his soul by a parting 
 promise that my time was come, and rode off with his Idu- 
 means — to the boundless satisfaction of the scrupulous and 
 much-alarmed Jonathan. 
 
 The tower was massive, and there was no probability that 
 anything less than a Roman battering-ram would ever lay 
 open its solid sides. The captain had recovered his virtue at 
 the instant of my losing my purse, and I now could no more 
 dream of sapping his integrity than of sapping the huge 
 blocks of the tower. Whether I was to be prisoner for the 
 night, or for the siege, or to glut the ax by morning, were 
 questions which lay in the bosom of as implacable a villain 
 as long-delayed revenge ever made malignant; but what was 
 to become of my child, of my family, of my share in the 
 gfreat cause, for which alone life was of value? 
 
 The chamber to which I was consigned was at the top of 
 the tower and overlooked avast extent of coimtry. Before me 
 were the Eoman camps, seen clearly in the moonlight, and 
 wrapt in silence, except when the solitary trumpet sounded 
 the watch, or the heavy tread of a troop going its rounds was 
 heard. The city sounds were but the murmurs of the sinking 
 tide of the multitude. The spring was in her glory. The air 
 came fresh and sweet from the fields. All was tranquillity ; 
 yet what a mass of destructive power was lying motionless 
 under that tranquillity ! Fire, sword, and man were before 
 me — elements of evil that a touch could rouse into tempest, 
 not to be allayed but by torrents of blood and the ruin of 
 empires. 
 
 4.4 
 
CHAPTER LVI 
 
 A Narrow Escape 
 
 While my mind was wandering away in thoughts of the » sasftet of 
 madness of ambition in so brief a being as man, I heard a loud 
 clamor of voices in the chambers below. The rustic guards 
 had been enjoying themselves, but their wine was already 
 out, and they set their faces boldly against the discipline 
 which pretended to limit the wine of patriots so true ana 
 thirsty. The clamor arose from the discovery that the cellars 
 of the tower had been examined by a previous guard, who 
 provided for the temperance of their successors by taking the 
 whole temptation to themselves. High words followed be- 
 tween the abettors of discipline and thd partizans of the 
 vintage, and if my door were but unbarred I might have ex- 
 peditiously relieved the captain of his charge. But its bolts 
 were enormous, and I tried them in vain. As I was giving 
 up the effort, a light footstep ascended the stairs ; a key turned 
 in the ponderous wards, and the minstrel of the tent stood be- 
 fore me. 
 
 "If you wish to escape from certain death," he whispered, 
 "do as I bid you." 
 
 He looked from the casement, sang a few notes, and on 
 being answered from without pulled up a rope, which we 
 hauled in together. The task was of some difficulty, but at 
 length a weighty basket appeared, loaded with wine. He 
 took a portion of the contraband freight in his hands and 
 without a word disappeared. I heard his welcome proclaimed 
 below with loud applause. Half the guard were instantly on 
 the stairs to assist him down with the remainder, but against 
 this he firmly protested, and threatened in case of a single 
 attempt to interfere with his operations that he would awake 
 the captain and publicly give back this incomparable private 
 
 425 
 
TTartB Ubou ttill f Come 
 
 K »inBttei'8 store to the legitimate hand. The threat was effective ; the 
 *'* unlading of the basket was left to his own dexterity, and at 
 length but one solitary flask lay before us. 
 
 "You deserve some payment for your trouble," said he, 
 with the careless and jovial air of his brethren. "Here's to 
 your night's enterprise, whatever it be," pouring out a few 
 drops and tasting them, while he gave a large draft to my 
 feverish lips. "And now, good-night, my prince, unless you 
 love the tower too much to take leave of this gallant guard 
 by a window." 
 
 "But, boy, if you should be detected in assisting my 
 escape? " 
 
 "I have no fear of that," said he. "I have been detected 
 in all sorts of frolics in my time, and yet here I am. The 
 truth is, my prince, I have traveled in your country and have 
 an old honor for your name. No later than to-day you gave 
 me the handsomest present I have got since I came within the 
 walls. I know the noble captain of the guard to be a thorough 
 knave, and the mighty Onias to want nothiug for wickedness 
 but the opportunity. In short, the thought occurred to me, 
 on seeing you, to help the honest revelers below to a little 
 more wine than was good for their understandings, the con- 
 traband being a commodity in which, between ourselves, I 
 deal ; and further to break the laws by assisting you to leave 
 captain, sentinels, and all behind." 
 
 I asked what was to be done. 
 
 " If you value your life, be the substitute for the empty 
 flasks and make your way through the air like a bird. I shall 
 be safe enough. You need have no fears for me." 
 
 I coiled the rope round a beam, forced myself through the 
 narrow casement, and launched out into air at a height of a 
 hundred feet. If I felt any distrust, it was brief. I was 
 rapidly lowered, passing the various casements, in which I 
 saw the successive watches of the guard drinking, sleeping, 
 singing, and discussing public affairs with village rationality. 
 Luckily no eye turned upon the fugitive, and the ground was 
 touched at last. 
 
 lu another moment the minstrel came, rather flying than 
 
 426 
 
a marrow Escape 
 
 sliding, down the rope. I said something in acknowledgment Ube Jftee^oIn 
 
 of this service, but he laid his finger on his lip, and pointing 
 
 to a rampart, where a moving torch showed me that we were 
 
 still within observation,' led on through paths beset with 
 
 thickets that no eye could penetrate, but, as he laughingly 
 
 said, "that of a supplier of garrisons with contraband," But 
 
 their intricacy offered no obstruction to . this stripling ; and 
 
 after amusing himself with my perplexities he led me to the 
 
 verge of the plain. 
 
 "I have detained you," said he, "in these brambles for the 
 double purpose of avoiding the lookout from the battlements 
 and of giving the moon time to hide her blushing beauties." 
 
 She lay reddening with the mists on the horizon. 
 
 " She has been, often called our mother, and as her children 
 the minstrels are allow:ed the privilege of keeping later hours 
 and being madder than the mob of mankind. But like other 
 children we are sometimes engaged in matters which would 
 dispense with the maternal eye, and to-night I wished that 
 she was many a fathom below the ocean. Mother," said he, 
 throwing himself into an attitude, "take a child's blessing 
 aud begone." 
 
 The words were spoken to a touch on his little harp — 
 rambling, but singularly sweet. 
 
 "Do you know," said he with a sigh, as he turned and 
 saw me gazing in admiration of his skill,, "I am weary to 
 death of my profession." 
 
 "Then why not leave it? You are fit for better things. 
 Your skill is oJ? the very nature that makes its way in the 
 world. " 
 
 " Why not leave it? Por a hundred reasons. In the first 
 place, I should he more wearied of every other. I should be 
 the bird in .the cage, fed, sheltered, and possibly a favorite. 
 But what bird would not rather take the chance of the open 
 air, even to be scorched by the summer and frozen by the 
 winter? No ; let me clap my pinions and sing my song under 
 the free canopy of the skies, or be voiceless, and wingless, 
 and — dead." , 
 
 "Boy, this is the natural language of your years. But the 
 
Vacrs ^bou ^ill IT dome 
 
 Vbe Afnetrei time must come when the spirit sinks and man requires other 
 charms in life than the power of roaming. " 
 
 He hung his head over the harp and let his fingers stray 
 among the strings. The moon was now touching the moun- 
 tains. 
 
 "We must begone," said I. "I owe you something for 
 your night's service, which shall be repaid by taking you 
 into my household should the siege be raised; if not, you are 
 but as you were." 
 
 He was all nervous excitement at the offer — wept, laughed, 
 danced, played a prelude upon the strings, kissed my hand, 
 and finally bounded away before me. I called to him, repeat- 
 ing my wish that he should go no farther. 
 
 "Impossible," said he; "you would be lost in a moment. 
 If I had not crossed the ground hundreds of times, I should 
 never be able to find my road. Half a mile forward it is all 
 rampart, trench, and ravine. You would be stopped by a 
 myriad of sentinels. Nothing on earth could get to the foot 
 of yonder hills, but an army — or a minstrel." 
 
 He ran on before me, and ran with a rapidity that tasked 
 even my foot to follow. We soon came into the fortified 
 groimd, and I then felt uis value. He led me over fosse and 
 rampart, up the scarp and through the palisade, with the 
 sagacity of instinct. But this was not all. I repeatedly saw 
 the sentinels within a few feet of us, and expected to be 
 challenged every moment, but not a syllable was heard. I 
 passed with patrols of the legionary horse on either side of 
 me ; still not a word. I walked through the rows of tents, in 
 which the troops were preparing for the duties of the morning. 
 Not an eye fell upon me, and I almost fcegan to believe my- 
 self, like a hero of the heathen fables, covered with a <jloud. 
 
 The boy still continued racing along, until, on reaching the 
 summit of a mound at some distance in front of me, he uttered 
 a cry and fell. I had heard no challenge, and hurried toward 
 him. A flight of arrows whizzed over my head, and the black 
 visages of a mob of Ethiopian riders " came bounding up a 
 hollow between us. It was not my purpose to fight, even if I 
 had any hope of success against marksmen who could hit an 
 
 428 
 
a marrow Escape 
 
 elephant's eye. I surrendered in every language of which I Saiatbtei'a 
 was capable. But the Ethiopians only shook their woolly '^ '*' "* 
 heads, laid hands on me, and began an investigation of my 
 riches creditable to polished society. Barbarians, with a 
 tongue and physiognomy worthy only of their kindred ba- 
 boons, probed every plait of my garments, with an accuracy 
 that could have been surpassed only in the most civilized 
 custom-houses of the empire. A succession of shrieks, which 
 I mistook for rage, but which were the mirth of those sons of 
 darkness, were the prelude to measures which augured more 
 formidable consequences. A rope was thrown over my arms, 
 and I was led toward the outposts. 
 
 Yet even the neighborhood of their Eoman friends did not 
 seem the most congenial to my captors. More than one con- 
 sultation was held, in which their white teeth were bared to 
 the jaw with rage, and their simitars were whirled like so 
 many flashes of lightning about each other's turbans, before 
 they could decide whether my throat was to be cut on the 
 spot, to get rid of an incumbrance, or whether they were to 
 try how far the emptiness of my purse might not be made up 
 by the reward for the capture of a spy in the trappings of a 
 chieftain. 
 
 I gave up remonstrance where, if I had all the tongues of 
 Babel, none of them seemed likely to answer my purpose, and 
 reserving the nice distinction between an ambassador and a 
 spy for more cultivated ears, quietly walked onward in the 
 midst of this troop of thieves ; the more insensible to honesty 
 or argument, as they were privileged according to law. But 
 our approach to the camp bred another diflculty. The troop 
 felt an obvious disinclination to come too close to the legion- 
 aries. Untutored as the negroes were, they had acquired a 
 knowledge of the official conscience, and they bowed to the 
 mastery of the white in plunder as among the accomplish- 
 ments of an advanced age ! 
 
 All could not venture to the camp ; yet who was to be en- 
 trusted with receiving the reward? The discussion was car- 
 ried on chiefly by gesture, which sometimes proceeded to 
 blows, and at last was wound up to such vigor that a brawny 
 
 420 
 
^act^ Zbon XTfll V Come 
 
 Saiatbtei'B rufBan, to preserve the peace, seized the rope and, dragging 
 *""* me out the circle, began sharpening his simitar, to extinguish 
 the controversy. But at the instant a horrid outcry arose, and 
 a figure, hideous beyond conception, not a foot high, blacker 
 than the blackest, and darting flames from its mouth, bounded 
 in among us, mounted upon a wild beast of a horse that 
 kicked and tore at everything. The Ethiopians shrieked with 
 terror and scattered on all sides at the first shock, but the 
 ground was so cut up by the military operations that they 
 stumbled at every step. Some were unhorsed ; some probably 
 had their necks broken, and others carried home the tale, to 
 spread it through the land of lions. 1 heard it long after, ex- 
 citing the utmost amaze in a venerable circle round one of 
 the fountains of the Nile. 
 
 I was now saved from being thus summarily made the 
 victim of peace, but was as far as ever from freedom. "While 
 I was endeavoring to loose the rope, a patrol of the legionary 
 horse came galloping from the camp, and I was seized with 
 this badge of a bad character upon me. But the flying negroes 
 were the more amusing objects. There was just light enough 
 to see them rolling about the plain ; turbans flying off in the 
 air; and the few riders who could boast of keeping their 
 seats, whirled away over brake and brier, at the mercy of 
 their frightened horses. This display, which had been at first 
 taken for the prelude to an assault on the lines, was now a 
 source of pleasantry, and the horsemanship of the savages 
 was honored with many a roar. 
 
 My case came next under consideration. " I was found at 
 the edge of the Roman entrenchments, where to be found was 
 to die; I was besides taken with the mark of reprobation 
 upon me." 
 
 I pleaded my own merits loudly, and appealed to the rope 
 as evidence that I was not there by my own will. The legion- 
 aries were better soldiers than logicians, and my defense per- 
 plexed them until some one thought of inquiring what brought 
 me there at all. The troop flocked round to hear my answer 
 to this overwhelming question. I told my purpose in a few 
 words. 
 
 430 
 
a marrow Escape 
 
 The scale again turned in my favor, and I began to think ©n tbe ©oint 
 victory secure, when a young standard-hearer, who was prob- " *" 
 ably destined to rise ia the state, declared, with a splenetic 
 tongue and brow of of&ce, that "in this land of cheating too 
 much precaution could not be adopted against cheats of all 
 colors ; that the more plausible my story was, the more likely 
 it was to be a falsehood ; and finally, that as my escape might 
 do some kiud of mischief, while my hanging could do none 
 whatever, it was advisable to hang me without delay." 
 
 The orator spoke the words of popularity, and my fate was 
 sealed. But a new difficulty arose. By whom was the sen- 
 tence to be put in execution? — for the duty would have sullied 
 the legionary honor for life. A trampled African, who lay 
 groaning in a ditch beside me, caught the sound of the debate, 
 dragged himself out, and offered, mangled as he was, to per- 
 form the office for any sum that their generosity might thinlc 
 proper to give. Never was man nearer to paying the grand 
 debt than I was at that moment. The African recovered his 
 vigor as by magic, and the young statesman took upon him- 
 self the superintendence of this service to his country. I 
 raised my voice loudly against this violence to a "negotiator " ; 
 but the troopers of the imperial horse had been roused from 
 their sleep on my account, and they were not to return, liable 
 to the ridicule of having been roused by a false alarm. I still 
 endeavored to put ofE the evil hour, when the trampling of a 
 large body of cavalry was heard. 
 
 " The general ! " exclaimed the young officer, who evidently 
 had an instinctive sensibility to the approach of rank. 
 
 "Let Titus come," said I, "or any man of honor, and he 
 will understand me." 
 
 I tore the badge of disgrace from my arms and stepped for- 
 ward to meet the great son of Vespasian. My confidence 
 alarmed the troop, and the standard-bearer made way for the 
 man who dared to speak to the heir of the throne. But the 
 general was not Titus ; a broad, brutal countenance, red with 
 excess, glared haughtUy round. I recognized Cestius. A 
 whisper from one of the officers put him in possession of the 
 circumstances, and he rode up to me. 
 
 431 
 
^accs tibou Eill IT Come 
 
 Saiatbiei "So, rebel! you are come to this at last! You have been 
 e e« ee ae ^g^g^ ^ ^j^g jg^^^ ^^^ must undergo your natural fate." 
 
 " I demand to be led to your general. I scorn to defend 
 myself before inferiors." 
 
 " Inferiors ! " He bit his livid lip. " Traitor, you are not 
 now on the hill of Scopas at the head of an army." 
 
 "Nor you," said I, "on the plain at the head of an army — 
 and so much the more fortunate for both you and them. But 
 I scorn to talk to men whose backs I have seen. Lead me to 
 your master, fugitive ! " 
 
 The troops, unaccustomed to this plain speaking, looked 
 on with wonder. Cestius himself was staggered, but the na- 
 ture of the man soon returned, and iu a voice of fury he 
 ordered a body of Arab archers, who were seen moving at a 
 distance, to be brought up for the extinction of a " traitor un- 
 worthy of a Roman sword." The Arabs, exhilarated by the 
 prospect of employment, came up, shoutiag, tossing their 
 lances, and shooting their arrows. As a last resource, I sol- 
 emnly protested against this murder, which I pronounced to 
 be the work of a revenge disgraceful to the name of soldier; 
 and taunting Cestius with his defeat, demanded that, if he 
 doubted my honor, he should try on the spot " which of our 
 swords was the better." 
 
 He answered only by a glare of rage and a gesture to the 
 archers, who instantly threw themselves into a half circle 
 round me, with the expertness of proficients in the trade of 
 justice, and bended their bows. Determined to resist to the 
 last, I flung out upbraidings and scorn upon the murderer, 
 which drove him to hide his head behind the troops. Another 
 disturbance arose. Simitars waved, turbans shook, horses 
 plunged; the deep order was broken, and at length a horse- 
 man, magnificently appareled and mounted, burst into the 
 ring and looked fiercely round. 
 
 "What, you miscreants," he shouted, "who dares to take 
 command out of my hands? Down with your bows ! Commit 
 murder and I not present ! The first man that pulls a string 
 shall leave an empty saddle. Draw off, cutthroats, or if you 
 want to do the world a service, shoot one another." 
 
 433 
 
B flaccow JEscape 
 
 I seemed to remember the voice, but I gazed in rain on the H meeting 
 splendid figure. The turban that, blazing with gems, hung captain 
 down on his forehead, and the beard that, black as the 
 ra-ven's wing, curled full round his lip, completely baffled me. 
 He looked at me in turn, thrust out a sinewy hand, and, 
 clasping mine, exclaimed with a laugh laugh : 
 
 " Prince, does the plumage make you forget the bird? What 
 can have brought you into the hands of my culprits? I 
 thought that you were drowned, burned, or a candidate for 
 the imperial diadem by this time." 
 
 I now knew him. 
 
 " My friend of the free-trade ! " said I in a low tone. 
 
 He spoke in a fearless tone. "By no means. I have re- 
 formed — am a changed man — captain of the seas no more ; 
 but a loyal plunderer — in the service of Vespasian, and in 
 command of a thousand Arab cavalry that will ride, run 
 away, and rob with any corps in the service ; and the word is 
 a bold one." 
 
 Our brief conference was broken up by the return of Ces- 
 tius, who, outrageous at the delay and coming to inquire the 
 cause, found fresh fuel for his wrath in the sight of the Arab 
 captain turned into my protector. With an execration he de- 
 manded "why his orders had been disobeyed." 
 
 The captain answered, with the most provoking coolness, 
 that " no Eoman officer, let his rank be what it might, was 
 entitled to degrade the allies into executioners." 
 
 The Eoman grew furious with the slight in the face of the 
 troops, who highly enjoyed it. • The Arab grew more sarcastic, 
 till Cestius was rash enough to lift his hand, and the Arab 
 anticipated the blow, by dashing his charger at him and leav- 
 ing the general and his horse struggling together on the 
 ground. An insult of this kind to the second in command 
 was, of course, not to be forgiven. The Arabs bent their bows 
 to make battle for their captain, but he forbade resistance ; 
 and when the legionary tribune demanded his sword, he sur- 
 rendered it with a smile, saying that "he had done service 
 ' enough for one day in saving an honest man and punishing a 
 : ruffian," and that he should justify himself to Titus alone. 
 
 28 m 
 
llaccs Tibon QU1 1 Come 
 
 Ube Bwroacb My fate was still undetermined. But the legionaries soon 
 e Items ^^^ more pressing matters to think of. The clangor of horns 
 and shouts came in the direction of the city. The plain still 
 lay in shade, but I could see through the dusk immense crowds 
 moving forward like an inundation. The legions were in- 
 stantly under arms, and I stood a chance of being walked 
 over by two armies ! 
 
 But I was not to encounter so distinguished a catastrophe. 
 Some symptoms of my inclination to escape attracted the eye 
 of the guard, and I was marched to the common repository of 
 malefactors in the rear of the lines. 
 
 -«H 
 
CHAPTER LVH 
 Onias, the Enemy of Salathiel 
 
 My ne-w quarters were within the walls of one of those TWiftbin soun^ 
 huge country mansions which the pride of our ancestors had ' * ' 
 built to be the plague of their posterity ; for those the enemy 
 chiefly employed for our prisons. Their solid strength defied 
 desultory attack ; time made little other impression on them 
 than to picture their walls with innumerable stains ; and the 
 man must be a practised prison-breaker who could force his 
 way out of their depths of marble. But if my eyes were use- 
 less, my ears had their full indulgence. Every sound of the 
 conflict was heard. The attack was furious, and must have 
 often been close to the walls of my dungeon. The various 
 rallying-cries of the tribes rang through its halls; then a 
 Eoman shout, and the heavy charge of the cavalry would 
 roll along until, after an encountering roar and a long clash- 
 ing of weapons, the tumult passed away, to be rapidly renewed 
 by the obstinate bravery of my unfortunate countrymen. 
 
 I felt as a man and a leader must feel during scenes in 
 which he ought to take a part, yet to which he is virtually 
 as dead as the sleeper in the tomb. My life had been activity ; 
 my heart was in the cause; I had knowledge, zeal, and 
 strength that might in the chances of battle turn the scale. I 
 even often heard my name among the chai-ging cries of the 
 dayJ But here I lay within impassable barriers. A thousand 
 times during those miserable hours I measured their height 
 with my eye ; then threw myself on the ground, and placing 
 my hands over my ears, labored to exclude thought from my 
 soul. 
 
 But my fellow prisoners were practical philosophers to a 
 man; untaught in the schools, 'tis true, yet fully trained in 
 
 435 
 
trarrg ;rbou trtll f Come 
 
 tax Sons of that great academy worth all that Philosopy ever dreamed 
 Cbance ^ — experience. In all my wanderings among mankind I 
 never before had so ample an opportunity of studying variety 
 of character. War is the hotbed that urges all our qualities, 
 good and evil, into their broadest luxuriance. The generous 
 become munificent ; the mean darken into the villainous ; and 
 the rude harden into brutality. The camp is the great inn at 
 which all the dubious qualities set up their rest, and a single 
 campaign perfects the culprit to the height of his profession. 
 There were round me in these immense halls about five hun- 
 dred profligates, any one of whose histories would have been 
 invaluable to a scorner of human nature. 
 
 Among the loose armies of the East those fellows exercised 
 their vocation as regular appendages ; often lived in luxury, 
 and sometimes shot up into leaders themselves. But robbery 
 in the Koman armies required master-hands. The temptation 
 was strong, for the legionary was the grand ravager, and like 
 the lion, he left the larger share of the prey to the jackal. 
 Yet justice, inexorable and rapid, was his rule — in all cases 
 but his own ; and the jackal, suspected of trespassing withia 
 the legitimate distance from, the superior savage, ran im- 
 minent hazard of being disqualified for all encroachment to 
 come. Three-fourths of my associates had played this peril- 
 ous game, and its penalties were now awaiting only the first 
 leisure of the troops. Peace, at all times vexatious to their 
 trade, had thus a double disgust for them, and the most pa- 
 triotic son of Israel could not have taken a more zealous in- 
 terest in the defeat of the legions. 
 
 But philosophy still predominated ; if hope was at an end, 
 hilarity took its place, and the prison rang with reckless ex- 
 hibitions of practical glee, riotous songs, and mockeries. In 
 the idleness of the lingering hours the professional talents of 
 those sons of chance were brought into play. The mimic col- 
 lected his audience, burlesqued the pompous officials of the 
 army, and gathered his pence and plaudits as if he were un- 
 der the open sky and could call his head his own. The nos- 
 trum-vender had his secrets for the cure of every ill, and 
 harangued on the impotence of brand, scourge, and blade, if 
 
OniAB, tbe ;enemi3 of Salatbiel 
 
 the patient had hut the wisdom to employ his irresistible m utctim of 
 
 unguent. The soothsayer sold fate at the lowest price, and 
 fixed the casualties of the next f our-and-twenty hours — an 
 easy task with the principal part of his audience. The min- 
 strel chanted the pleasures of a life unencumbered by care 
 or conscience ; and the pilferer, with but an hour to live, ex- 
 ercised his trade with an industry proportioned to the short- 
 ness of his time. 
 
 In the whole gang I met with but one man thoroughly out 
 of spirits. He had obviously been no favorite of fortune, for 
 the human form could scarcely be less indebted to clothing. 
 His swarthy visage was doubly blackened by hunger and ex- 
 haustion, and even his voice had a prison sound. Driven away 
 from the joyous groups by the natural repulsion which the 
 careless feel at visages that remind them of trouble, he took 
 refuge in the comer where I lay, tormented by every echo of 
 the battle. Ifot unwilling to forget the melancholy scenes in 
 which every moment was draining the last blood of my coun- 
 try, I turned to the wretch beside me and asked the cause of 
 Ms sorrows. 
 
 " Ingratitude, " was the reply. " This is a villainous world ; 
 a man may spend his life in serving others, and what will he 
 gain in the end? Nothing. There is, for instance, the prince 
 of Damascus wallowing in wealth; yet the greatest rogue 
 under this roof has not a more pitiful stock of honor. Wit- 
 ness his conduct to me. He was out of favor with his uncle, 
 the late prince ; was not worth more than the raiment on his 
 limbs, and as likely to finish his days on the gibbet as any 
 of the knot of robbers that helped him to scour the roads 
 about Sidon. In his distress he applied to me. I had driven 
 a handsome share of the free-trade between Egypt and the 
 north, and now and then gave him a handsome price for his 
 booty. The idea of bringing his uncle to terms was out of the 
 question. I named my price; it was allowed to be fair. I 
 made my way into the palace, was exalted to the honors of 
 cupbearer, and on my first night of office gave the old man a 
 cup which cured him of drunkenness forever. And what do 
 you think was my reward? " 
 
 437 
 
 Ingtatitube 
 
Vattfi tCbou ZTUl H Come 
 
 Saiatwei'g flno "I could name what it ought to have been." 
 
 terest IRoueeft 
 
 "You conclude half the old man's jewels at the least. No; 
 not a stone — not a shekel. I was thrown into chains, and 
 finally kicked out of the city, with a promise, the only one 
 that he will ever keep, that if I venture there again I shall 
 leave it without my head ! There's gratitude! There's honor 
 for you ! 
 
 " My next example," he continued, " was among the Romans. 
 It must be owned that they pay well for secret services. But 
 then, iagratitude infects them from top to toe. I had been 
 three years in their employment, and if I made free with a 
 few of their secrets in favor of others, it was only on the com- 
 mercial principle of having as many customers as one can 
 supply ; still, I helped them to the knowledge of all that was 
 going on." 
 
 He had found a listener, and indulged his recollection; 
 after a variety of events, in which he cheated everybody, he 
 came to one that had some interest for myself. 
 
 "At last a showy adventurer changed the scene," he con- 
 tinued. " Some iasulthad stirred up his blood, and in revenge 
 he sailed away with the prefect's galley and set up on his 
 own account. Not a sail, from a shallop to a trireme, could 
 touch the water from the Cyclades to Cyprus without being 
 overhauled by the captain. I was set by the prefect upon his 
 track, and got into his good graces by lending him a little of 
 my information, of which he made such desperate use that 
 the Roman swore my destruction as a traitor. To make up 
 the quarrel I tried a wider game, and was briaging his fleet 
 upon the pirates in their very nest when ill luck came across 
 me. A pair whom to the last hour of my life nothing will 
 persuade me to think anything but demons, sent expressly to 
 do me mischief, spoiled one of the finest inventions that ever 
 came into the head of man. 
 
 " The consequence was that the pirates, instead of being at- 
 tacked, burned the Roman's trireme round him, and would 
 have burned himself, if he had not thought a watery end 
 better than a fiery one, leaped overboard, and gone straight to 
 the bottom. The whole blame fell upon me, and my only pay- 
 
 438 
 
©nlas, tbc Bncmg of Salatblcl 
 
 ment was tlie cropping of my ears and a declaration, sworn to Safatbfei 3Be» 
 in the names of Romulus and Remus, that if I ever ventured """'* * ''°' 
 again within a Roman camp I should not get off so well. In- 
 gratitude again! Never was a man so unfortunate." 
 
 "Quite the contrary. It appears to me that seldom was 
 man so lucky. If one in a hundred would have your tale to 
 tell, not one in a thousand would have lived to tell it." I had 
 already recognized the Egyptian of the cavern. 
 
 " But justice, honor ! " 
 
 " Say no more about them. Whatever the Romans may be 
 in the matter of justice, your case is an answer to all charges 
 on their mercy. " 
 
 He looked at me with a ghastly grimace, and as he threw 
 back the long and squalid locks that covered his countenance, 
 showed what beggary had done to the sleek features of the 
 once superbly clothed and jeweled sea-rover. 
 
 "But what," said I, "threw a man of your virtue among 
 such a gang of caitiffs as are here? " 
 
 " Another instance of ingratitude. I had been for twenty 
 years connected with one of the leading men of Jerusalem, 
 and I will say that in my experience of mankind I have 
 known no individual less perplexed with weakness of con- 
 science. He had a difficult game to play between the Romans, 
 whom he served privately, the Jews, whom he served pub- 
 licly, and himself, whom he served with at least as much zeal 
 as either of his employers. The times were made for the suc- 
 cess of a man who has his eyes open and suffers neither the 
 fear of anything on earth nor the hope of anything after it 
 to shut them. He succeeded accordingly; got rid of some 
 rivals by the dagger; sent others to the dungeon; bribed 
 where money would answer his purpose ; threatened where 
 threats would be current coin ; and by the practise of those 
 natural means of rising in public affairs, became the hope of 
 a faction. But on his glory there was one cloud — the prince 
 of Naphtali!" 
 
 I listened attentively. I had deeply known the early hos- 
 tility of Onias, but his devices were too tortuous for me to 
 trace, and until the past night I had lost sight of him for 
 
 489 
 
tracts Ubou tlill ir Come 
 
 ®n(a< anb ijis years. I asked what cause of bitterness existed between 
 '" those personages. 
 
 " A hundred, as generally happens where the imagination 
 becomes a party and the accuser is the judge. The prince in 
 his youth and before he attained his rank had the insolence to 
 fall in love with the woman marked by Onias for his own. 
 He had the additional insolence to win her ; and the comple- 
 tion of his crimes was marriage. Onias thenceforth swore his 
 ruin. Public convulsions put off the promise, and while he 
 was driven to his last struggle to keep himself among the 
 living, he had the angry indulgence of seeing the young hus- 
 band shoot up without any trouble into rank, wealth, and re- 
 nown." 
 
 "But has not time blunted his hostility? " I asked. 
 
 "Time, as the proverb goes, blunts nothing but a man's 
 wit, his teeth, and his good intentions," said the knave, with 
 a sneer on his grim visage. " The next half of the proverb is 
 that it sharpens wine, women, and wickedness. What Onias 
 may have been doing of late I can only guess ; but unless he 
 is changed by miracle, he has been dealing in every villainous 
 contrivance from subornation to sorcery. I had my own 
 affairs to mind. But unless Satan owes him a grudge, he is 
 now not far from his revenge. " 
 
 I thought of our meeting at the city gates, and alarmed at 
 the chance of his discovering my family, anxiously asked 
 whether Onias had obtained any late knowledge of his rival. 
 
 "Of that I know but little," said he ; "yet quick as his re- 
 venge may be, unless my honest employer manages with more 
 temper than usual, he will rue the hour when he set foot on 
 the track of the prince of Kaphtali. If ever man possessed 
 the mastery of the spirits that our wizards pretend to raise, 
 the prince is that man. I myself have hunted him for years, 
 yet he always baffled me. I have laid traps for him that 
 nothing in human cunning could have escaped, yet he broke 
 through them as if they were spider's webs. I saw him sent 
 to the thirstiest lover of blood that ever sat on a throne. Tet 
 he came back, aye, from the very clutch of Kero. I maddened 
 his friends against him, and he contrived to escape even from 
 
 440 
 
®ntae, tbe £nems ot Salatbiei 
 
 the malice of his friends, a matter which you will own is » ConUeeot't 
 
 among the most memorable. I had him plunged into a dun- *'" 
 
 geon, where I kept him alive for certain reasons, while Onias 
 
 was to be kept to his bargain by the prisoner's reappearance. 
 
 Yet he escaped, and my last intelligence of hinn is that he 
 
 is at this moment living in pomp in Jerusalem, the spot where 
 
 I have been for the last month in close pursuit of him. Time 
 
 or some marvelous power must have disguised him. And yet 
 
 if I were to meet him this night " 
 
 " Look on me, slave ! " I exclaimed, and grasping him by 
 the throat unsheathed my dagger. " You have found him, 
 and to your cost. Villain ! it is to you then that I owe so 
 much misery. Make your peace with Heaven if you can, 
 for it would be a crime to suffer you to leave this spot 
 alive." 
 
 He was dumb with terror. I held him with an iron grasp. 
 The thought that if he escaped me, it must be only to let loose 
 a murderer against my house, made me feel his death an act 
 of justice. 
 
 "Let me go," he at last muttered; "let me live; I am not 
 fit to die. In the name of that Lord whom you worship, spare 
 me ! " He fell at my feet in desperate supplication. " You 
 have not heard all ; I have abjured your enemy. Spare me and 
 I will swear to pass my days in the desert, never to come 
 again before the face of man ; to lie upon the rock> to live 
 upon the weed, to drink of the pool until I sink into the 
 grave ! " 
 
 I paused in disgust at the abject eagerness for life in a 
 wretch self -condemned! While I held the dagger before him, 
 his senses continued bound up by fear. He gazed on it with 
 an eye that quivered with every quivering of the steel. With 
 one hand he grasped my uplifted arm as he knelt, and with 
 the other gathered his rags round his throat to cover it from 
 the blow. His voice was lost in horrid gaspings ; his mouth 
 was wide open and livid. I sheathed the weapon, and his 
 countenance instantly returned into its old grimace. A 
 ghastly smile grew upon it as he now drew from Ms bosom a 
 small packet. 
 
 441 
 
Uarcs tl^bou tLttl V Come 
 
 SaiatMei'g " If you had put me to death," said the wretch, "you would 
 * ©nfM"" have lost your best friend. This packet contains a correspond- 
 ence for which Onias would give all that he is worth in the 
 world; and well he might, for the man who has it in his 
 hands has his life. The world is made up of ingratitude. 
 After all my services — slandering here, plundering there, 
 hunting down his opponents in every direction, till they either 
 put themselves out of the world or he saved them the trouble 
 — he had the baseness to throw me off. At the head of his 
 troops he kicked me from his horse's side, ordering me to be 
 turned loose, 'to carry my treachery to the Eomans, if they 
 should be fools enough to think me worth the hire.' I took 
 him at his word. I was watching my opportunity to enter 
 Jerusalem and stab him to the heart when I was taken by 
 some of the plunderers that hover round the camp, and am 
 now probably to suffer for the benefit of Eoman morality, as 
 a robber and assassin, as soon as the legions shall have mur- 
 dered every man and robbed every mansion in Jerusalem." 
 
 The packet contained a correspondence of Onias with the 
 Eomans. A sensation of triumph glowed through me — I held 
 the fate of my implacable enemy in my hand. I could now, 
 with a word, strike to the earth the being whose artifices and 
 cruelties had waylaid me through life, and the traitor to my 
 country would perish by the same blow that avenged my own 
 wrongs. My nature was made for passion. In love and hatred, 
 in ambition, in revenge, my original spirit knew no bounds. 
 Time, sorrow, and the conviction of my own outcast state had 
 partially softened those hazardous impulses, and I found the 
 value of adversity. Misfortune comes with healing on its 
 wings to the burning temper of the heart, as the tempest 
 comes to the arid soil ; it tears up the surface, but softens it 
 for the seeds of the nobler virtues ; even in its feeblest work, 
 it cools the withering and devouring heat for a time. I had 
 yet to find with what fatal rapidity the heart gives way to its 
 old overwhelming temptations. 
 
 "I spare your life," said I, "but on one condition — that 
 you henceforth make Onias the constant object of your vigi- 
 lance ; that you keep him from aU injury to me and mine ; and 
 
 443 
 
®nia0, tbe iBnemt of Salatbiel 
 
 that wheu I shall seize him at last, you shall be forthcoming tCbe jpower of 
 to give public proof of his treachery." 
 
 "This sounds well," said the Egyptian as he cast his eyes 
 round the lofty hall, " but it would sound better if we were 
 not on this side of the gate. All the talking in the world will 
 not sink these walls an inch, nor make that gate turn on its 
 hinges, tho for that, and for every other too, there is one 
 master-key. Happy was the time " — and the fellow's sullen 
 eye lighted up with the joy of knavery — "when I could walk 
 through every cabinet, chamber, and cell from the Emperor's 
 palace in Eome down to the Emperor's dungeon in Csesarea." 
 
 I produced a few coins which I had been enabled to conceal, 
 and flung them into his hand. The sum rekindled life in him ; 
 avarice has its enthusiasts as well as superstition. He forgot 
 danger, prison, and even my dagger at the sight of his idol. 
 He turned the coins to the light in all possible ways ; he tried 
 them with his teeth ; he tasted, he kissed, he pressed them 
 to his bosom. Never was lover more rapturous than this last 
 of human beings at the touch of money in the midst of 
 wretchedness and ruin. His transports taught me a lesson, 
 and in that prison and from that slave of vice I learned long 
 to tremble at the power of gold over the human mind. 
 
 It was past midnight and the noise of the crimiuals round 
 me had already sunk away. The floor was strewn with sleep- 
 ers, and the only waking figure was the sentinel as he trod 
 wearily along the passages, when the Egyptian, desiring me 
 to feign sleep that his further operations might not be embar- 
 rassed, drew himself along the ground toward him. The sol- 
 dier, a huge Dacian, covered with beard and iron, and going 
 his rounds with the iusensibility of a machiue, all but trod 
 upon the Egyptian, who lay crouching and writhing before 
 him. I saw the spear lifted up and heard a growl that made 
 me think my envoy's career at an end in this world. He still 
 lay on the ground, writhing under the sentinel's foot, as a 
 serpent might under the paw of a lion. 
 
 I was about to spring up and interpose, but his time was 
 not yet come. The spear hung in air, gradually turned its 
 point upward, and finally resumed its seat of peace on the 
 
 443 
 
ITairs ^bou ^ill H Come 
 
 trbe Sentinel Dacian's shoulder. That art of persuasion which speaks to 
 isribei ^j^g palm and whose language is of all nations had touched 
 the son of Thrace ; I heard the sound of the coin on the mar- 
 ble ; a few words arranged the details. The sentinel discov- 
 ered that his vigilance was required in another direction, broke 
 off his customary round, and walked away. The Egyptian 
 turned to me with a triumphant smile on his hideous visage, 
 the gate rolled on its hinge, and he slipped out like a shadow. 
 
 At the instant my mind misgave me. I had put the fate of 
 my family into the hands of a slave, destitute of even the 
 pretense of principle. In my eagerness to save, might I not 
 have been delivering them up to their enemy? He had sold 
 Onias to me ; might he not make his peace by selling me to 
 Onias? The gate was still open. A few steps would put me 
 beyond bondage. Yet I had come to claim. Esther. If I left 
 the camp, what hope was there of my ever seeing this child 
 of my heart again? Would not every hour of my life be em- 
 bittered by the chance that she might be suffering the miseries 
 of a dungeon, or borne away into a strange land, or dying and 
 calling on her father for help in vain? 
 
 Those contending impulses passed through my mind with 
 the speed and almost with the agony of an arrow. The more 
 I thought of the Egyptian, the more I took his treachery for 
 certain. But the present ruin of all predominated over the 
 possible sufferings of one, and with a heart throbbing almost 
 to suffocation and a step scarcely able to move I dragged my- 
 self toward the poitaL 
 
CHAPTER LVm 
 
 Eleazar the Convert 
 
 I WAS not to escape ! As I reached the gate a loud sound 'Cbe "msx ef 
 of trampling feet and many voices drove me back. By that 
 curious texture of the feelings which prefers suffering to sus- 
 pense I was almost glad to have the question decided for me 
 by fortune, and flung myself on the ground among a heap of 
 the undone, who lay enjoying a slumber that might he envied 
 by thrones. The gate was thrown open and in another moment 
 in burst a living mass of horror, a multitude of beings in 
 whom the human face and form were almost obliterated; 
 shapes gaunt with famine, black with dust, withered with 
 deadly fatigue, and covered with gashes and gore. 
 
 The wax had gone on from cruelty to cruelty. To the 
 Roman the Jew was a rebel, and he had a rebel's treatment; 
 to the Jew the Eoman was a tyrant, and dearly was the price 
 of his tyranny exacted. Quarter was seldom given on either 
 side. The natural generosity of the son of Vespasian had at- 
 tempted for a while to soften this furious system. But the 
 slaughter of the mission exasperated him; he declared the 
 Jews a people incapable of faith, and proclaimed a war of ex- 
 termination. The battle of the day had furnished the first 
 opportunity of sweeping vengeance. 
 
 ' The people, stimulated by the arrival of Onias, had made a 
 desperate effort to force the Roman lines. The attacks were 
 reiterated with more than valor — with rage and madness ; the 
 Jews fought with a disregard of life that appalled and had 
 nearly overwhelmed even the Roman steadiness. The loss 
 of the legions was formidable ; all their chief ofi&cers were 
 wounded, many were killed. Titus himself, leading a column 
 from the Decuman gate of the camp, was wounded by a blow 
 from a sling ; and the state of its ramparts, as I saw them at 
 
 445 
 
XTarts Ubou tlill f Come 
 
 Saiatbfei daybreak, torn down in immense breaches, and filling up the 
 TCioimiei ditch with their ruins, showed the imminent hazard of the 
 whole ai'my. Another hour of daylight would probably have 
 been its ruin. But Judea would not have been the more 
 secure, for the factions, relieved from the presence of an 
 enemy, would have torn each other to pieces. 
 
 The loss of the Jews was so prodigious " as to be ac- 
 counted for only by their eagerness to throw away life. Not 
 less than a hundred thousand corpses lay between the camp 
 and Jerusalem. No prisoners were taken on either side, and 
 the crowds that now approached were the wounded, gathered 
 off the field, to be crucified in memory of the mission. The 
 coming of those victims put an end to the possibility or the 
 desire of sleep. 
 
 The immense and gloomy hall, one of those in use for the 
 stately banquets customary among the leaders of Jerusalem, 
 was suddenly a blaze of torches. The malefactors and cap- 
 tives were thrown together in heaps, guarded by strong de- 
 tachments of spearmen that lined the sides, like ranges of iron 
 statues, overlooking the mixed and moving confusion of 
 wretched life between. G-uilt, sorrow, and shame were there 
 in their dreadful undisguise. The roof rang to oaths and 
 screams of pain as the wounded tossed and rolled upon each 
 other; rang to bitter lamentation, and more bitter still, to 
 those self-accusing outcries which the near approach of violent 
 death sometimes awakens in the most daring criminals. For 
 stem as the justice was, it still was justice ; the Jewish char- 
 acter had fearfully changed. Eapine and bloodshed had be- 
 come the habits of the populace, and among the panting and 
 quivering wretches before me begging a moment of life I 
 recognized many a face that, seen in Jerusalem, was the sign 
 of plunder and massacre. 
 
 Kepulsive as my recollections were, I spent the greater part 
 of the night in bandaging their wounds and relieving the 
 thirst which scarcely less than their wounds wrung them. 
 There were women, too, among those wrecks of the sword, 
 and now that the frenzy of the day was past, they exhibited 
 a picture of the most heart-breaking dejection. Lying on the 
 
 446 
 
£lea3at tbe Convert 
 
 ground wounded and with every lineament of their former Ube jure of 
 selves disfigured, they cried from that living grave alternately 
 for vengeance and for mercy. Then tearing their hair and 
 flinging it, as their last mark of hatred and scorn, at the 
 legionaries, they devoted them to ruin in the name of the 
 God of Israel. Then passion gave way to pain, and in floods 
 of tears they called on the names of parent, husband, and 
 child, whom they were to see no more ! 
 
 It was known that at daybreak the prisoners were to die, 
 and the din of hammers and the creaking of wagons bearing 
 the crosses broke the night with horrid intimation. At length 
 the stillness terribly told that all was prepared. The night, 
 measured by moments, seemed endless, and many a longing 
 was uttered for the dawn that was to put them out of their 
 misery. Yet when the first gray light fell through the case- 
 ments and the trumpets sounded for the escort to get under 
 arms, nothing could exceed the fury of the crowd. Some 
 rushed upon the spears of the reluctant soldiery ; some 
 bounded in mad antics through the hall ; others fell on their 
 knees and offered up horrid and shuddering prayers ; many 
 flung themselves upon the floor, and in the paroxysm of wrath 
 and fear perished. 
 
 Shocked and sickened by this misery, I withdrew from the 
 gate, where the tumult was thickest, as the soldiery were al- 
 ready driving them out, and returned to my old lair, to await 
 the will of fortune. But I found it occupied. A circle of the 
 wounded were standing round a speaker, to whom they listened 
 with singular attention. The voice caught my ear ; from the 
 crowd round him I was unable to observe his features, but 
 once drawn within the sound of his words, I shared the gen- 
 eral interest in their extraordinary power. He was a teacher 
 of the new religion. 
 
 In my wanderings through Judea I had often met with 
 those Nazarenes. Their doctrines had a vivid simplicity that 
 might have attracted my attention as a philosopher, but 
 philosophy was cold to their power. The splendor and 
 strength of their preaching realized the boldest traditions of 
 oratory. Yet their triumph was not that of oratory; they dis- 
 
 447 
 
xs&tvB OTiou TTfll f Come 
 
 Ube tceacbetB claimed all pretension to eloquence or learning, declaring that 
 of cbtiBtunitB g^gj^ ^ ^j^gy. poggggged. them, they dared not sully by human 
 instruments of success the glory due to Heaven. They carried 
 this self-denial to the singular extent of divulging every cir- 
 cumstance calculated to deprive themselves and their doctrines 
 of popularity. They openly acknowledged that they were of 
 humble birth and occupation, sinners like the rest of man- 
 kind, and in some instances guilty of former excesses of blind 
 zeal, persecutors of the new religion, even to blood. Of their 
 Master they spoke with the same openness. They told of His 
 humble origin. His career of rejection, and His death by the 
 punishment of a slave. To the scoffer at their hopes of a king- 
 dom to be given by the sufferer of that ignominious death, they 
 unhesitatingly answered that their hope was founded express- 
 ly upon His death, and that they lived and rejoiced in the ex- 
 pectation that they were, like Him, to seal their faith with 
 their blood I 
 
 I had often seen enthusiasm among my countrymen, but this 
 was a spirit of a distinct and a loftier birth. It had the vigor 
 of enthusiasm without its rashness ; the gentleness of infancy, 
 with the wisdom of years ; the solemn reveience of the Jew 
 for the divine Will, free from his jealous claims to the sole 
 possession of truth. The Law and the Prophets were per- 
 petually in their hands, and they often embarrassed our 
 haughty doctors and acrid Pharisees with questions and in- 
 terpretations to which no reply could be returned but a sneer 
 or an anathema. But in the power of conviction, in the 
 master art of striking the heart and understanding with sudden 
 light, like the bolt from heaven, I never heard, I never shall 
 hear, their equals. To call it eloquence was to humiliate this 
 stupendous gift ; the most practised skill of the rhetorician 
 gave way before it, like gossamer, like chaff before the whirl- 
 wind. It broke its way through sophistry by the mere weight 
 of thought. It had a rapid reality that swept the hearer along. 
 In its disdain of the mere decorations of speech, in the bold 
 and naked nerve of its language, there was an irresistible 
 energy — ^the energy of the tempest, giving proof in its un- 
 tamable rushings of its descent from a region beyond the 
 
 443 
 
;Elea3ac tbe Convert 
 
 reach of man. I never listened to one of these preachers but Ube sttenatb 
 with a consciousness that he was the depository of mighty °ifte«fltan* 
 knowledge. He had the whole mystery of the human affec- 
 tions bare to his eye. Among a thousand hearts one word 
 sent conviction at the same instant. All their diversities 
 of feeling, sorrow, and error were shaken at once by that 
 universal language. lb talked to the soul ! 
 
 Of these overwhelming appeals, which often lasted for 
 hours together and to which I listened overwhelmed, nothrug 
 is left to posterity but a few fragments, and those letters 
 which the Christians still preserve among their sacred wri- 
 tings — great productions and giving all the impression that 
 it is possible to transmit to the future. But the living voice, 
 the illumined countenance, the frame glowing and instinct 
 with inspiration ! — what can transmit them? 
 
 "Here," said I, as I often stood and heard their voices 
 thundering over the multitude, "here is the true power that 
 is to shake the temples of heathenism. Here is anew element 
 come to overthrow or to renovate the world." 
 
 I saw our holy law struggling to keep itself in existence, 
 compressed on every side by idolatry ; a little fountain feebly 
 urging its way through its native rocks, but exhausted and 
 dried up at the moment it reached the plain. But here was 
 an ocean, an inexhaustible depth and breadth of power made 
 to roU round the world, and be, at the will of Providence, the 
 illimitable instrument of its bounty. I saw our holy law 
 feebly sheltering under its despoiled and insulted ordinances 
 the truth of Heaven. But here was a religion scorning a nar- 
 rower temple than the earth and the heaven ! 
 
 Yet I turned away from those convictions. A thousand 
 times I was on the point of throwing myself at the feet of 
 the men who bore this transcendent gift and asking: "What 
 shall I do? " A thousand times I could have cried out: "Al- 
 most thou persuadest me to be a Christian." But oh, my 
 doubting heart ! I make no attempt to account for myself or 
 my career — I have felt as strongly driven back as if there 
 were an actual hand forcing me away. The illusion was a 
 willing one, and it was suffered, like all such, to hold me in 
 
 29 449 
 
Znn^ ^bou tTill V Come 
 
 " Ube ftBut fe its captivity. But even ■when I shrank away I have said: 
 omc ' u -yyi^ence had those men this knowledge? If angels from God 
 were to come down to reclaim, the world, could they tell 
 us things different or tell us more? " 
 
 I looked round upon the labors of ancient wisdom, and I 
 saw how trivial a space its utmost vigor had cleared, and how 
 soon even that space was overrun by the rankness of the 
 world, and I said : " Here is the central fire, the mighty res- 
 ervoir of light, awaiting but the divine command to burst up 
 in splendor, consume the impurities of the world at once, and 
 regenerate mankind." But the veil was upon my face. I 
 labored against conviction, and shutting out the subject from 
 my thoughts, sternly determined to live and die in the faith of 
 my fathers. 
 
 I now heard but the few and simple closing words of the 
 speaker in this group of the devoted. He was sorrowful that 
 the Gospel had been so long committed to his hands in vain. 
 He had, through fear of his own inadequacy, and in the re- 
 maining deference to the prejudices of his people, suffered 
 the truth to decay, and seen the illustrious labors of the 
 apostles without following their example. 
 
 "But," said he, " I was rebuked ; the opportunity once neg- 
 lected was refused even to my prayers. I was thenceforth in 
 perils, iQ civil war, m domestic sedition. I am but now come 
 from a dungeon. But in my bonds it pleased Him, in whose 
 hand are the heavens, to visit me. I knelt and prayed, 
 acknowledging my sin, and beseeching Him that before I died 
 I might proclaim His truth before Israel. In that hour came 
 a voice, bidding me go forth ; and lo ! my chains fell from 
 my hands and I went forth. And when I came to the gates of 
 the dungeon, I willed to go forward to the city of David. 
 But I was forbidden, and my steps were turned here, to 
 awake my brethren to knowledge before they perish." 
 
 The trumpets rang again as a new crowd were drained off 
 to execution. My heart sank at the melancholy sound, but 
 among the converts there was not a murmur. 
 
 "Kneel," said the preacher; "the hour is come! " 
 
 They knelt and he poured out his spirit aloud in prayer 
 
 460 
 
JEleajar tbe Convert 
 
 "Kow go forth," lie said, rising alone, "go fortli, redeemed "«o ffoctb, 
 of the Lord. This night have ye known that He is gracious, of tbe iocd " 
 Those things that God before hath shown by the mouth of 
 all His prophets that Christ should suffer. He hath fulfilled. 
 But ye have heard, but ye have been converted, that your sias 
 may be blotted out when the times of refreshing shall come. 
 But ye have been called — but ye have been justified — but ye 
 shall be glorified. Our hope of you is stedfast — knowing 
 that as you have been partakers of His cross, so shall ye be 
 of His kingdom. Now be grace unto you, and peace from 
 the King of Kings ! " 
 
 He laid his hands upon the kneeling converts and went 
 slowly round, blessing them. His face had been hitherto 
 turned from me, and I was too much impressed by his words 
 and the awful circumstances in which he stood even to con- 
 jecture who he was. At length in moving round he came be- 
 fore me. To my inexpressible surprise and sorrow the teacher 
 was Eleazar ! I had lost every trace of him since we parted 
 in the fortress, and with sorrow of heart had concluded him 
 a sacrifice to the common atrocities of our ferocious war. His 
 long absence was now explained, but no explanation could 
 account for the extraordinary change that had been wrought 
 upon his countenance. Always generous and manly, yet the 
 softness of a nature made for domestic life had concealed the 
 vigor of his understanding. He was the general reconciler ia 
 the disputes of the neighboring districts, the impartial judge, 
 the unwearied friend, and his features had borne the stamp of 
 this quiet career. 
 
 But the man before me bore uncontrollable energy in every 
 tone and feature. The failing flame of the torch that burned 
 over his head was enough to show the transformation of his 
 countenance into grandeur ; his glance was a living fire ; the 
 hair that floated over it, changed by captivity to the white- 
 ness of snow, shaded a forehead that seemed to have suddenly 
 expanded into majesty. If I had met such a man in a des- 
 ert, I should have augured in him the founder or the subverter 
 of a throne. 
 
 While I stood absolutely awed by his presence, a cohort of 
 
 451 
 
Zntvs Cbou c:fll f Gome 
 
 "«o to tbe speajmen poured in to gather up the gleaniags of the hall. 
 atort''^ Then was renewed the scene of misery. Wretches whom I had 
 thought dead started from the ground and flung themselves at 
 their feet, or rushed against the ranks, tore the weapons out 
 of their hands, and broke them in fury through the hall. 
 Others dashed their foreheads against the walls and floor and 
 died upon the spot. Others sprang up the projections of the 
 sculpture and climbed with the agility of leopards to the roof, 
 to force the casements. But additional troops poured in, and 
 the crowd were overwhelmed and driven out to undergo their 
 destiny. 
 
 During this long tumult, the Christian converts contiaued 
 kneeling and evidently absorbed by thoughts that extinguished 
 fear. Even the sounds from without, that terribly told what 
 was going on, and every tone of which pierced me to the 
 heart, produced only a deeper supplication that light would 
 be given to the souls of the sufferers. This patience probably 
 induced the soldiery to leave them to the last, while they 
 drove out the more untractable at the poiut of the spear, like 
 cattle to the slaughter. I still stood aloof. The sacredness of 
 the moments that came before death were not to be inter- 
 rupted. The transformed Eleazar had already passed away 
 from the things of this world. I would not force them on him 
 again, nor vainly and cruelly disturb the holy serenity of one 
 at peace alike with man and Heaven. 
 
 At length the order came. 
 
 "Now, my beloved brothers, beloved in the Lord, go 
 forth," said Eleazar, with a noble exultation glowiag in his 
 countenance, "quit ye like men; be strong; fear not them 
 who can kill only the body. Even this night saw you still in 
 your sins — the wisdom that was before all worlds, Mdden from 
 you. But He that calleth light out of darkness hath wrought 
 in you. He hath poured upon you that Spirit which is an 
 earnest of your inheritance, holy, incorruptible, eternal in the 
 heavens. Now, sons of Abraham, redeemed of Christ, kings 
 and priests of God forever, go where He is gone to prepare a 
 place for you — go to the house of many mansions — go to the 
 kingdom of glory I" 
 
 453 
 
Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Wagnalla Company, N. Y. and London. 
 
 ' Now, my beloved brothers, beloved in the Lord, go forth," said Eleazar. 
 
 See page 452. 
 
Sleasat tbe Convert 
 
 With tears aad blessings Eleazar took -water and baptized Saiatbiei Cotw 
 the converts. They sang a hymn, and then rising, moved '"" * '^^" 
 toward the gate, the soldiers standing at a distance and look- 
 iag on at this more than heroic resignation with eyes of re- 
 spect and wonder. 
 
 I could restrain myself no longer. I grasped Eleazar ; he 
 instantly recognized me, and the color that shot through his 
 cheek showed that with me came a tide of memory. I was 
 speechless ; I embraced him ; tears of old friendship dimmed 
 my eyes. He was overpowered like myself, and could only 
 exclaim : 
 
 " Salathiel, my brother ! What misfortune has brought you 
 here? Where is Miriam? Where are your children? You 
 can not be a prisoner? Fly from this dreadful place ! " 
 
 "Never, my brother, unless I can save you. The tyrants 
 shall have the curse of both upon their heads." 
 
 "This is madness, Salathiel — impiety! Oh, that you were 
 this moment even as I am — in all but death ! It is your duty 
 to live; you have many ties to the world." 
 
 He paused, and with a look upward said in a tone of prayer : 
 
 " Oh, that you were at this moment awake to the truths, the 
 holy and imperishable consolations, that make the cross to me 
 more triumphant than a throne ! " 
 
 The theme was a painful one. He instantly saw my per- 
 turbation and f orebore to urge me ; but fixing his humid eyes 
 on heaven, and with uplifted hands, he gave me his parting 
 benediction. 
 
 "May the time come," said he, "when the veil shall be 
 taken away from the face of my unhappy kindred and of my 
 undone country! When the days of the desolation of Israel 
 come to be accomplished, let her kneel before the altar! — let 
 her weep in sackcloth and repent of her iniquities ; so shall 
 the sun of glory arise upon her once more." 
 
 Then, as if a flash of knowledge had darted into his soul, 
 he fixed his solemn gaze on me. 
 
 " Salathiel, you are not fit to die ; pray that you may not 
 now sink iato the grave. You have fierce impulses, of whose 
 power you have yet no conception. Supplicate for length of 
 
 458 
 
Zatvs tTbou ^fll V Gome 
 
 B Bas of years ; rather endure all the miseries of exile ; be alone upon 
 the earth— weary, wild, and desolate ; but pray that you may 
 not die until you know the truths that Israel yet shall know. 
 Let it be for me to die, and seal my faith by my blood. Let 
 it be for you to lire, and seal it by your penitence. But live 
 in hope. Even on earth, a day bright beyond earthly splendor, 
 lovely beyond all the visions of beauty, magnificent and pow- 
 erful beyond the loftiest thought of human nature, shall 
 come, and we, even we, my brother, shall on earth meet- 
 again." 
 
 4M 
 
CHAPTER LES 
 The Qememy of THas 
 
 Thekk was a thrilling influence in the words of Eleazarthat sabtbtel't 
 left me without reply, and for a while I stood absorbed. *"«*'"•*•*" 
 When I raised my eyes again, I saw him following the melan- 
 choly train down the valley of slaughter. I rushed after him. 
 He would not listen to my entreaties ; he would suffer no ran- 
 som to be offered for his life. I supplicated the tribune of 
 the escort for a moment's delay until I could solicit mercy 
 from Titus. The officer, himself deeply pained by the service 
 on which he was ordered, had no authority, but sent a cen- 
 turion with me to the general commanding. 
 
 I hurried my guide through the immense force drawn up to 
 witness the offering to the shades of the Roman senators and 
 soldiers. The morning was stormy, and clouds covering the 
 ridges of the hills darkened the feeble dawn so much that 
 torches were necessary to direct the movement of the troops. 
 The wind came howling through the spears and standards, but 
 with it came the fiercer sounds of human agony. As we 
 reached the entrance of the valley, the centurion pointed to a 
 height where the general stood in the midst of a group of 
 mounted officers, wrapped in their cloaks against the snows 
 that came furiously whirling from the hills. I darted up the 
 steep with a rapidity that left my companion far below, and 
 implored the Roman humanity for my countrymen and for my 
 noble and innocent brother. 
 
 On my knee, that I had never before bowed to man, I be- 
 sought the muffled form, whom I took for the illustrious son 
 of Vespasian, to spare men " whose only crime was that of 
 having defended their country." I adjured the heir of the 
 empire "to rescue from an ignominious fate, subjects driven 
 
 455 
 
tTarts Ubou ^fll IT Come 
 
 Cbe waiics of into revolt only by violences ■whicli he would be the first to 
 tbeCroB,e6 disown." 
 
 "If," exclaimed I, "you demand money for the lives of my 
 countrymen, it shall be given even to our last ounce of silver ; 
 if you would have territory, we will give up our lands and go 
 forth exiles. If you must have life for life, take mine, and 
 let my brother go free ! " 
 
 The form slowly removed the cloak and Cestius was before 
 me. 
 
 "So," said he, with a malignant smile, "you can kneel, 
 Jew, and play the rhetorician; however, as you are here, 
 your having escaped me once is no reason why you should 
 laugh at justice a second time. Here, Torquatus," he beckoned 
 to a centurion, " take this rebel to the crosses and bring me 
 an account of the way in which he behaves. You see, Jew, 
 that I have some care of your reputation. A fellow careless 
 as you are would probably have died like a slave in a skir- 
 mish ; but you shall now figure before your countrymen as a 
 patriot should, and die with the honors of a native rebel." 
 
 I disdained to answer. The officer came up, attended by 
 his spearmen, and I was led down to the valley. A storm of 
 extraordinary violence, long gathering on the sky, broke forth 
 as I descended, and it was only by grasping the rocks and 
 shrubs on the side of the declivity that we could avoid being 
 blown away. We staggered along, blinded, and half frozen. 
 The storm fell heavily upon the legions, and the heights were 
 quickly abandoned for the shelter of the valley. The valley 
 itself was a sheet of snow, torn up by blasts that drifted it 
 hazardously upon the troops and threw everything into con- 
 fusion. But the sight that opened on me as I passed the first 
 gorge effaced storm and soldiery, and might have effaced the 
 world, from my mind. Through the whole extent of the naked 
 and rocky hollow were planted crosses. The ravine, dark even 
 in sunshine, was now black as midnight, and its only light was 
 from the scattered torches and the fires into which the bodies 
 of the victims were flung as they died, to make room for 
 others. On those crosses hung hundreds, writhing in miseries 
 made only to show the hideous capability of suffering that 
 
 456 
 
Zbc Clemencs of 7ttus 
 
 exists in our frame. I was instantly recognized, aad many asaiatMeimwes 
 hand was stretched out to me imploring that I should merci- ^ " " 
 fully hasten death. I heard my name called on as their prince, 
 their leader, their countryman; I heard Toices calling on 
 me to remember and revenge ! Horror-struck, I raved at the 
 legionaries and their tyraut master until I sank upon the 
 ground in exhaustion, covering my head with my mantle that 
 I might exclude alike sight and sound. 
 
 A voice at my side aroused me ; a cross had just been fixed 
 on the spot, and at its foot stood, preparing for death, the 
 man who had spoken. I looked upon his face and gave an in- 
 voluntary cry. For seven-and-thirty years I had not seen that 
 face ; but I had seen it on a night never to be erased from 
 my remembrance or my soul ! ' I knew every feature of it 
 through all the changes of years I 
 
 Manhood had passed iuto age ; the bold and sanguine coun- 
 tenance was furrowed with cares and crimes. But I knew at 
 once the man who had on that night been foremost at my call ; 
 the daring rabble-leader who had first shouted at my fatal 
 summons, and maddened the multitude, as I had maddened 
 myself and him. He turned his glance upon me at the cry. 
 His pale visage grew black as death. The past flashed upon 
 his soul. He shook froiii head to foot with keen convulsion. 
 He gasped and tried to speak, but no words came. He beat 
 his breast wildly and pointed to the cross with dreadful mean- 
 ing. The executioner, a brutal slave, scoffed at him as a das- 
 tard. He heard nothing, but with his pallid eyes staring on 
 me and his hand pointed upward, stood stiffening. Life de- 
 parted as he stood! The executioner, impatient, laid his 
 grasp upon him, but he was beyond the power of man. He 
 fell backward like a pillar of stone ! 
 
 I started from the corpse, and utterly unnerved, looked 
 wildly round for some way of escape from this scene of de- 
 spair. As I tried to penetrate the dusk toward the bottom of 
 the valley, Eleazar was seen at the head of his little band, 
 standing at the foot of a cross, surrounded by soldiers. I 
 thought no more of safety, ajad plunging iuto the valley, forced 
 my way through the rocks and snowdrifts until I reached the 
 
 457 
 
TTatts ^bou trill H Gome 
 
 ■news from foot of the declivity on wMch this true hero was about to die. 
 
 IRome 
 
 But there an impenetrable fence of spears stopped me. I im- 
 plored, execrated, struggled; Eleazar's look fell on me, and 
 the smile on his uplifted countenance showed at once how 
 much he thanked me and how calmly he was prepared to bid 
 the world farewell. My struggles were useless, and I had but 
 one resource more. I flew with a swiftness that baffled pursuit 
 to the camp ; passed the entrenchments by the breaches left 
 siuce the battle, and before I could be stopped or questioned, 
 entered the tent of Titus. 
 
 The supper-lamps were burning, and three stately-looking 
 men stUl lingered over the table, one of the few unpopular 
 luxuries of the general. A large packet of letters was being 
 distributed by a page, and while I stood in the shade of the 
 tent-curtain a moment, until I should ascertain whether Titus 
 was among the three, I was made the unwilling sharer of the 
 secrets of Rome. 
 
 " All is going on well," said one of the readers ; " here, that 
 truest of courtiers, my showy friend, StatUius, sends, com- 
 piled by his own hand, an endless list of the pomps and pro- 
 cessions, games and congratulations, ia the Emperor's prog- 
 ress through Italy. The intelligence is not the newest in the 
 world, but it would break my courtly friend's heart to think 
 that he had not the happiness of giving it first. So let him 
 think, and so let him worship the rising sun, until another 
 dynasty comes, and he discovers that if this sun has risen in 
 the East, a much finer one may rise in the West. Thus runs 
 the world." 
 
 "War with the Britons," read another; "they have 
 marched a hundred of their naked clans from the hills. The 
 remnant of the Druids are busy again with their incantations, 
 and it is more than suspected that the whole is stirred up by 
 our incomparable governor of western Gaul, who affects the 
 diadem, like all the ridiculous governors of the age." 
 
 "Well then, he shall have his wish," said a third, "the 
 Emperor will give him, of course, a court fit for a rebel : his 
 council, lictors; and his palace, the Mamertine. But as to 
 the Britons, I doubt if they care one of their own leather 
 
 458 
 
^e Clemcnci; of Q:itus 
 
 pence whether he wears the diadem or the halter. The sav- a letter trom 
 ages have probably been vexed by some new attempt to ^w"""* 
 squeeze money from them — the quickest way to try the na- 
 tional sensibilities. They have the spirit of trade in them al- 
 ready, and are as keen in the barter of their wolf-skins and 
 bulls' -hides as if they supplied the world with Tyrian cano- 
 pies and Indian pearls." 
 
 " A letter from Sempronius ! " was the next topic ; " its ex- 
 quisite intaglio and elaborate perfumes would betray it all the 
 world over ; full of scandals, as usual, and full of discontent. 
 He seems quite dismantled, and complains that — the sex is 
 growing ugly, the seasons comfortless, and mankind dull ; a 
 certain sign that my emptiest of friends and the best dresser 
 in Italy is growing old. " 
 
 "So much the better for his circle," said another, sipping 
 his goblet. "As for himself, while he can flourish in curls 
 and calumny, he will be happy, the true man of high life, a 
 prey to tailors, a figure for actors to burlesque, and an invet- 
 erate weariness to the world. " 
 
 " But here is a private despatch from the Emperor, and, 
 unfortunately for human eyes, written in his own most un- 
 readable hand." 
 
 The speaker stood up to the lamp and gave me an oppor- 
 tunity of observing him. His countenance and figure struck 
 me as what no other word could express than — princely." 
 The features were handsome and strongly marked Italian, 
 and the form, tho tending to breadth and rather under the 
 usual stature, was eminently dignified. His voice, too, was 
 remarkable. I never heard one that more completely united 
 softness and majesty. Here I could have but the shadow of 
 a doubt that I had found Titus ; yet I had that shadow. Our 
 meeting in the field, where we had fought hand to hand, gave 
 me no recollection of the man before me. Titus might not 
 even be among the three, and nothing but seizure and ruin could 
 be the consequence of discovering myself to subordinates. 
 
 "Good news, it is to be hoped," said both the listeners to- 
 gether as they deferentially watched his perusal. 
 "None whatever; a mere private chronicle in the Emperor's 
 
 4fiO 
 
XTarrs XTbou ZiU. f Come 
 
 Satetb(ei »p. usual style ; all kinds of oddities together. He laughs at me 
 peals to U(tu» ^^^ complaiuiag of the want of intelligence from Eome, and 
 says that unless we send him some, the politicians of the city 
 will die of emptiness or raise a rehellion ; and that he is the 
 most Ul-used personage in the empire in being obliged to supply 
 brains for so many blockheads and keep up the reputation of 
 an honest man in the midst of so many knaves. But he men- 
 tions, and for that I am deeply grateful, that he has just 
 erected the golden statue, which I vowed so long ago to the 
 memory of my unfortunate friend Britannicus, and is about 
 to dedicate a bronze equestrian one to me, to be placed in the 
 Circus. He concludes the epistle by saying that unless the 
 British insurrection speedily blows over, he shall be a beggar, 
 and must turn tribune for a livelihood ; defends his imprac- 
 ticable manuscript, which, he says, I am imitating as fast as 
 I can, and repeats his old jest, that if I were not borv to be a 
 prince and an idler, I might have made my bread by my 
 talents for forgery." 
 
 His hearers repaid the imperial merriment by its full tribute 
 of loyal laughter. 
 
 Doubt was now at an end, and I advanced. My step roused 
 the party, and they started up, drawing their swords. But 
 the quick eye of Titus recognized me, and satisfying his com- 
 panions by a gesture, I heard him pronounce to them: "My 
 antagonist, the prince of Naphtali." 
 
 There was no time for ceremony, and I addressed him at 
 once. 
 
 "Son of Vespasian, you are a soldier, and know what is 
 due to the brave. I come to solicit yousr mercy ; it is the first 
 time that I ever stooped to solicit man. My brother, a chief- 
 tain of Israel, is in your hands, condemned to the horrid death 
 of the cross ; he is virtuous, brave, and noble ; save him, and 
 you will do an act of justice more honorable to your name 
 than the bloodiest victory." 
 
 Titus looked at me in silence, and was evidently perplexed; 
 then he returned to his chair, and having consulted with his 
 companions, hesitatingly said: 
 
 "Prince, you know not what you have asked. I am bound. 
 
 460 
 
Zbc Clemencs of mtus 
 
 like others, by the Emperor's commands, and they strictly are, Ube otcet of 
 that none of your countrymen, taken after the offer of peace, 
 must live." 
 
 " Hear this, God of Israel ! " I cried ; " King of Vengeance, 
 hear and remember ! " 
 
 "You are rash, prince," said Titus gravely; "yet I can 
 forgive your national temper. With others, even your ventur- 
 ing here might bring you into hazard. But the perfidy of 
 your people makes truce and treaty impossible. They leave 
 me no alternative. I lament the necessity. It is the desire 
 of the illustrious Vespasian to reign in peace. But this is 
 now at an end." 
 
 He paused, and advancing toward me, offered his hand with 
 the words : " I know that there are brave and high-minded 
 men among your nation. I have been astonished at the valor, 
 nay, I will call it the daring and heroic contempt of suffering 
 and death, that this siege has already shown. I have been 
 witness, too," and he smiled, "of the prince of Ifaphtali's 
 prowess in the field, and I would most willingly have such 
 among my friends." 
 
 I waited for the conclusion. 
 
 "Why not come among us," he said; "give up a resistance 
 that must end in ruin ; abandon a cause that all the world 
 sees to be desperate ; save yourself from popular caprice, the 
 violence of your rancorous factions, and the final fall of your 
 city? Be Caesar's friend, and name what possession, power, 
 or rank you wDI." 
 
 The thought of deserting the cause of Jerusalem was prof- 
 anation. I drew back and looked at the majestic Eoman as 
 if I saw the original tempter before me. 
 
 " Son of Vespasian, I am at this hour a poor man ; I may 
 in the next be an exile or a slave. I have ties to life as strong 
 as ever were bound round the heart of man ; I stand here a 
 suppliant for the life of one whose loss would embitter mine ! 
 Yet not for wealth unlimited, for the safety of my family, 
 for the life of the noble victim that is now standing at the 
 place of torture, dare I abandon, dare I think the impious 
 thought of abandoning, the cause of the City of Holiness." 
 
 461 
 
XTarrs Ubou Q:i[[ IT dome 
 
 ttbe ipasBfng of The picture of her ruin rose before my eyes, and tears 
 
 power forced their way; my strength was dissolved; my voice was 
 
 choked. The Eomans fixed their looks on the ground, affected 
 
 by the sincerity of a soldier's sorrow. I took the hand that 
 
 was again offered. 
 
 " Titus ! iu the name of that Being to whom the wisdom of 
 the earth is folly, I adjure you to beware. Jerusalem is 
 sacred. Her crimes have often wrought her misery — often 
 has she been trampled by the armies of the stranger. But she 
 is still the City of the Omnipotent, and never was blow in- 
 flicted on her by man that was not terribly repaid. Hear me 
 a moment." 
 
 Titus stood at this, and I continued : 
 
 " The Assyrian came, the mightiest power of the world ; he 
 plundered her Temple and led her people into captivity. How 
 long was it before his empire was a dream, his dynasty extia- 
 guished in blood, and an enemy on his throne? The Persian 
 came ; from her protector he turned into her oppressor, and 
 his empire was swept away like the dust of the desert! The 
 Syrian smote her : the smiter died in agonies of remorse, and 
 where is his kingdom now? The Egyptian smote her, and who 
 now sits on the throne of the Ptolemies? Pompey came — the 
 invincible conqueror of a thousand cities, the light of Rome, 
 the lord of Asia riding on the very wings of victory. But he 
 profaned her Temple, and from that hour he went down — 
 down, like a millstone plunged into the ocean ! Blind counsel, 
 rash ambition, womanish fears were upon the great statesman 
 and warrior of Rome. Where does he sleep? What sands 
 were colored with his blood? The universal conqueror died a 
 slave by the hands of a slave ! Crassus came at the head of 
 the legions ; he plundered the sacred vessels of the sanctuary. 
 Vengeance followed him, and he was cursed by the curse of 
 God. Where are the bones of the robber, and his host? Go 
 tear them from the jaws of the lion and the wolf of Parthia— 
 their fitting tomb ! 
 
 " You, too, son of Vespasian, may be commissioned for the 
 punishment of a stiff-necked and rebellious people. You may 
 scourge our naked vice by the force of arms; and then you 
 
 463 
 
tn>e aiemencs of ITftus 
 
 may return to your own land, exulting in tlie conquest of the » tRecognttion 
 
 fiercest enemy of Eome. But shall you escape the common 
 
 fate of the instrument of evil? Shall you see a peaceful old 
 
 age? Shall a son of yours ever sit upon the throne? Shall 
 
 not rather some monster of your blood efface the memory of 
 
 your virtues, and make Eome in bitterness of soul curse the 
 
 Flavian name? " 
 
 Titus grew pale, and shuddering, covered his eyes with his 
 mantle. His companions stood gazing on me "with the aspect 
 of men gazing on the messenger of fate. 
 
 " Spare Eleazar," was all that I could utter. 
 
 Titus made a sign to a tribune, who flew to bear, if not too 
 late, the command of mercy. 
 
 While we continued in a silence that none of us felt in- 
 clined to breaik, a door opened behind me and an officer en- 
 tered. It was Septimius. I seized him by the thoat. 
 
 " Villain ! " I cried, " give me back my child ; base hypo- 
 crite ! give up my innocent daughter. Where have you taken 
 her? Lead me to her, or die ! " 
 
 Titus rose, in evident surprise and indignation. 
 
 " What do I hear, Septimius? Have you been guilty of this 
 offense? Prince, let him loose until his general shall hear 
 what he has to say for himself." 
 
 Septimius affected the most extreme and easy ignorance. 
 
 " Most noble Titus, I have to thank you for having saved my 
 neck from the grasp of this hasty personage ; but beyond that 
 I have nothing to say for myself or any one else. I never saw 
 this man before. I know no more of his daughter than of the 
 queen of Abyssinia, or the three-formed Diana; and by the 
 goddess, I swear that I believe him to be perfectly under her 
 influence, and either a lunatic or a most excellent actor. Be 
 honest, Jew, if you can, and acknowledge that you never saw 
 me before in your life." 
 
 I stood in astonishment ; his effrontery struck me dumb. 
 
 "You perceive, most noble Titus," he went on, "how a 
 plain question puts an end to this public accuser's charges. 
 But in his present state, whether affected or real, he should 
 not be suffered to go at large ; suffer me to send him to my 
 
 463 
 
Zntvs ITbou tSill f Oome 
 
 toatneii of an quarters, where he shall be guarded, until we at least find out 
 what brought him here." 
 
 "Ingrate," I exclaimed, "you make me hate human nature! 
 Better that I had left you to be trampled like the viper that 
 you are." 
 
 The dark eye of the general, again turned on Septimius, 
 seemed to require a graver explanation. 
 
 " Ingrate ! " retorted he. " By Jupiter, the fellow' s insolence 
 is superb. For what should I be grateful? but for my escape 
 from his detestable hands. Very probably he figured among 
 the rabble that would have murdered me as they did the rest 
 of us'; grateful, yes, I ought to be for the lesson never to 
 venture within his walls on the faith of the traitors that hold 
 them. But let me be allowed to say, most noble Titus, that 
 you condescend too much in listening to any of this rabble ; 
 nay, that you hazard the safety of the state in hazarding your 
 person within the reach of one of a race of assassins." 
 
 Titus smiled, and waved back his companions, who, on the 
 surmise, were approachiug him. 
 
 "Let me be honored with your commands," urged Septim- 
 ius, " to take this person in charge ; felon or insane, I shall 
 speedily put him in the way of cure." 
 
 A tribune, breathless with haste, came in at the moment 
 with a letter, which he gave to Titus, and retired to a distant 
 part of the tent to await the answer. The color rose to the 
 Soman's cheek as he looked over the paper; he showed it to 
 his companions, and then put it into my hand. I read the 
 words : 
 
 " An assassin, hired by the chiefs of Jerusalem, yesterday 
 passed the gates. His object is the life of the Eoman general. 
 He goes under the pretense of recovering one of his family, 
 supposed to be carried off from the city, but who has never 
 left his house. He has communications with the camp, by 
 which he can enter at pleasure, and the noble Titus can not be 
 too much on his guard. "" 
 
 The note was in an enclosure from Cestius, stating that it 
 had just been transmitted to him from a high authority in 
 Jerusalem. I fiung it on the ground with the scorn due to 
 
 464 
 
Ubt Clemencs ot ^itu0 
 
 such an accusation, declaring that it was unnecessary for " my Deft Jn 
 enemy Cestius to have put his name to a document which so "* * 
 easily revealed its writer." 
 
 "You, of course, Septimius," said the general, fixing his 
 penetrating gaze on him, " could know nothing of this letter. " 
 
 Septimius entered on his defense with seriousness, and 
 showed that from the time and circumstances no share in it 
 could be attached to him. Titus retired a few steps, and hav- 
 ing consulted with the officers, who I perceived were unani- 
 mous for my being instantly put to death, addressed me in 
 that grave and silver-toned voice which characterized the sin- 
 gular composure of his nature. 
 
 "We have exchanged blows and pledges of honor, prince, 
 and I will not suffer myself to believe that a man of your 
 rank and soldiership could stoop to the crime charged here. 
 In truth, were none but personal considerations in question, I 
 should instantly set you free. But there are weighty interests 
 connected with my life, which make it seem fitting to my 
 friends and advisers that in all cases precautions should be 
 taken which otherwise I should disdain. To satisfy their 
 minds, and the spirit of the Emperor's orders, I must detain 
 you for a few days. Tour treatment shall be honorable." 
 
 Septimius advanced again to demand my custody, but a 
 look repelled the request, and I was directed to follow one of 
 the secretaries of Titus. 
 
 80 465 
 
CHAPTER LX 
 The Treatment of a. Prisoner 
 
 airwotes A TROOP of cavalry were at the tent dOor. We set off 
 through the storm, and a few miles from the camp reached a 
 large building peopled with a crowd of high functionaries at- 
 tached to Titus as governor of Judea. 
 
 " You must be a prodigious favorite with the general," said 
 my companion, as we passed through a range of magnificent 
 rooms furnished with Italian luxury, " or he would never have 
 sent you here. He had these chambers prepared for his own 
 residence, but your countrymen have kept him too busy, and 
 for the last month he is indebted to them for sleeping under 
 canvas." 
 
 I observed that " peace was the first wish of my heart, but 
 that no people could be reproached with contending too boldly 
 for freedom." 
 
 "The sentiment is Roman," was the reply. "But let us 
 come to the fact. Titus, once fixed in the government, would 
 be worth all the fantasies that ever fed the declaimers on in- 
 dependence. His character is peace, and if he ever comes to 
 the empire, he will make the first of monarchs. You should 
 try him and reap the first fruits of his talent for making 
 people happy. There, look round this room ; you see every 
 panel hung with a picture, a lyre, or a volume ; what does 
 that tell? " 
 
 " Certainly not the habits of a camp ; yet he is distinguished 
 in the field." 
 
 " No man more. There is not a rider in the legions who can 
 sit a horse or throw a lance better. He has the talents of a 
 general besides ; and more than all, he has the most iron per- 
 severance that ever dwelt in man. If the two armies were to 
 slaughter each other until there was but half a dozen spear- 
 
 466 
 
Vbe treatment of a ptieoner 
 
 men left between them, Titus "would head his remnant and Ube EmpeDor 
 fight until he died. But whether it is nature or the poison 
 that he drank along with Britannicus, he wants the eternal 
 vividness of his father. Aye, there was the soldier for the 
 legions. Look, prince, at this picture," arid tell me what 
 you think of the countenance." 
 
 He drew aside a curtain that covered a superb portrait of 
 the Emperor. I saw a countenance of incomparable shrewd- 
 ness, eccentricity, and self -enjoyment. Every feature told the 
 same tale, from the rounded and dimpled chin to the broad 
 and deeply veined forehead, overhung with its rough mat of 
 hair. The hooked nose, the deep wrinkles about the lips, the 
 thick dark eyebrows, obliquely raised as if some new jest was 
 gathering, showed the perpetual humorist. But the eye be- 
 neath that brow — an orb black as charcoal, with a spot of in- 
 tense brightness in the center, as if a breath could turn that 
 coal into flame ^belonged to the supreme sagacity and deter- 
 mination that had raised Vespasian from a tent to the throne. 
 
 The secretary, whose jovial character strongly resembled 
 that of the object of his panegyric, could not restrain his ad- 
 miration. 
 
 " There, " said he, " is the man who has fought more bat- 
 tles, said more good things, and taken less physic than any em- 
 peror that ever wore the diadem. I served with him from 
 decurion up to tribune, and he was always the same — active, 
 brave, and laughing from morn to night. Old as h§, is, day 
 never finds him in his bed. He rides, swims, runs, outjests 
 everybody, and frowns at nothing on earth but an old woman 
 and a physician. He loves money, 'tis true ; yet what he 
 squeezes from the overgrown, he scatters like a prince. But 
 his mirth is inexhaustible; a little rough, so much for his 
 camp education; but the most curious mixture of justice, 
 spleen, and pleasantry in the world." 
 
 My companion's memory teemed with examples. 
 
 " An Alexandrian governor was ordered to Eome to ac- 
 count for a long course of extortion ; immediately on his ar- 
 rival he pretended to be taken violently ill, which, of course, 
 put oE the inquiry. The Emperor heard of this^ expressed the 
 
 467 
 
^arrg ITbou Sill II Come 
 
 Hn jEmperor'e greatest interest in so meritorious a public servant, paid him 
 '^^ ' a visit the next day, disguised as a physician, ordered him a 
 variety of medicines, which the unfortunate governor was 
 compelled to take, renewed his visit regularly every day, and 
 every day charged him an enormous fee ! Beggary stared the 
 governor in the face, and never was a complication of dis- 
 orders so rapidly cured! 
 
 " I was riding out in his attendance one day a few miles 
 from Rome when we saw a fellow beating his mule cruelly, 
 and on being called to, insisted on his right to torture the 
 animal. I was indignant and would have fought the mule's 
 quarrel. But the Emperor laughed at my zeal, and after some 
 jesting with the brutal owner, bought the mule, only annex- 
 ing the condition that the fellow should lead it to the stable ; 
 he actually sent him with the mule two hundred and fifty 
 miles on foot, to one of his palaces in Gaul, and with a lictor 
 after him to see that the contract was fairly performed. 
 
 " One of his chamberlains had been soliciting a place about 
 court, for, as he said, his brother. The Emperor found out the 
 fact that it was for a stranger, who was to lay down a large 
 sum. He sent for the stranger, ratified the bargain, gave him 
 the place, and put the money in his own pocket. The cham- 
 berlain was in great alarm on meeting the Emperor some days 
 after. 'Your dejection is natural enough,' said Vespasian, 'as 
 you have so lately lost your brother ; but, then, you should 
 wish me joy, for he has become mine ! ' 
 
 " By the altar of Momus and the brass beard of the god 
 Ridiculous, I could tell you a hundred things of the same 
 kind," continued the jovial and inexhaustible secretary ; " take 
 but one more. 
 
 "One of our great patricians, an .fflmilian, and as vain 
 and insolent a beast as lives, had ordered a quantity of a 
 particular striped cloth, which it cost the merchant infinite 
 pains to procure. But the great man's taste had altered in the 
 mean time, and he returned the cloth without ceremony, 
 threatening, besides, that if the merchant made any clamors 
 on the subject, his payment should be six months' work in the 
 slave-mill. The man, on the verge of ruin, came, tearing his 
 
 468 
 
Zbe Uceatment ot a pcisonet 
 
 hair and bursting with rage, to lay his complaint before the Metrasfng 
 
 Emperor, who, however, plainly told Mm that there was no 
 remedy, but desired him to send a dress of the same cloth to 
 the palace. Within the week the patrician was honored with 
 a message that the Emperor would dine with him, and the 
 message was accompanied with the dress and an intimation 
 that Vespasian wished to make it popular. Eome was in- 
 stantly ransacked for the cloth, but not a yard of it was to be 
 found but in the merchant's hands. The patrician's household 
 must be equipped in it, cost what it would. The dealer, in 
 pleasant revenge, charged ten times the value, and his fortune 
 was made in a day. 
 
 "Now Titus, with many a noble quality, is altogether an- 
 other man. He abhors the Emperor's rough-hewn jocularity; 
 he speaks Greek better than the Emperor does his own tongue ; 
 is a poet, and a clever one besides, in both languages ; extem- 
 porizes verse with elegance ; is no mean performer on the lyre ; 
 sings ; is a picture-lover, and so forth. I believe from my 
 soul that, with all his talents for war and government, he 
 would rather spend his day over books and his evenings among 
 poets and philosophers, or telling Italian tales to the ears of 
 some of your brilliant orientals, than ride over the world 
 at the head of legions. And now," said my open-hearted 
 guide, " having betrayed court secrets enough for one day, I 
 must leave you and return to the camp. Here you will spend 
 your time as you please until some decision is come to. The 
 household is at your service, and the officer in command will 
 attend your orders. Farewell! " 
 
 Captivity is wretchedness, even if the captive trod on cloth 
 of gold. My treatment was imperial ; a banquet that might 
 have feasted a Boman epicure was laid before me ; a crowd 
 of attendants, sumptuously habited, waited round the table ; 
 music played, perfumes burned, and the whole ceremonial of 
 princely luxury was gone through, as if Titus were present in- 
 stead of his heart-broken prisoner. But to that prisoner bread 
 and water with freedom would have been the truer luxury. 
 
 I wandered through the spacious apartments, dazzled by 
 their splendor and often ready to ask : " Can man be unhappy 
 
 469 
 
 Court Secrets 
 
Uacrs Qlbou ^UI H Come 
 
 Saiatbiei in the midst of these things? " yet answering the question 
 °"* in the pang of heart which they were so powerless to soothe. 
 I took down the richly blazoned volumes of the Western 
 poets, and while at every liue that I unrolled, I felt how much 
 richer were their contents than the gold and gems that encased 
 them, still I felt the inadequacy of even their beauty and vigor 
 to console the spirit stricken by real calamity. I strayed to 
 the crystal casements, through which the sunset had begun to 
 pour in a tide of glory. The landscape was beautiful — a 
 peaceful valley, shut in with lofty emiaences, on whose marble 
 foreheads the sunbeams wrought coronets as colored and glit- 
 tering as ever were set with chrysolite and ruby. The snow 
 was gone as rapidly as it had come, and the green earth, in 
 the freshness of the bright hour, might almost be said "to 
 laugh and sing." The air came, laden with the fragrance of 
 flowers. There was a light and joyous beauty in even the 
 waving of the shrubs as they shook off the moisture in spark- 
 les at every wave; birds innumerable broke out into song, 
 and fluttered their little wet wings with delight in the sun- 
 shine ; and the rivulet, stUl swelled with the snows, ran dim- 
 pling and gurgling along with a music of its own. 
 
 But the true sadness of the soul is not to be scattered even 
 by the loveliness of external things. I turned from the sun 
 and nature to fling myself on my couch and feel that where 
 a man's treasure is, there his heart is also. 
 
 " What might not in those hours be doing in Jerusalem? " 
 mused I ; " what fanatic violence, personal revenge, or public 
 license might not be let loose while I was lingering among the 
 costly vanities of the pagan? My enemy at least was there 
 in the possession of unbridled authority " ; and the thought 
 was in itself a history of evil. "And where was Esther, my 
 beloved, the child of my soul, the glowing and magnificent- 
 minded being whose beauty and whose thoughts were scarcely 
 mortal? Might she not be in the last extremity of suffering, 
 upbraiding me for having forgotten my child; or in the hands 
 of robbers, dragging her delicate form through rocks and 
 sands; or dying, without a hand to succor, or a voice to 
 cheer her in the hour of agony? " 
 
 470 
 
tlbe tTceatment of a ptisonet 
 
 Thought annihilates time, and I had lain one day thus in tse palace 
 sinking from depth to depth, I know not how long, until I * """"* 
 ■was roused by the entrance of the usual endless train of at- 
 tendants ; and the chief steward, a venerable man of my coun- 
 try, whom Titus had generously continued in the office where 
 he found him, came to acquaint me that the banquet awaited 
 my pleasure. The old man wept at the sight of a chieftain 
 of Israel in captivity ; his heart was full, and when I had dis- 
 missed the attendants with their untasted banquet, he gave 
 way to his recollections. 
 
 The palace was once the dwelling of Ananus, the high 
 priest whose death under the cruelest circumstances was the 
 leading triumph of the factions and the ruin of Jerusalem. 
 In the very chamber where I sat he had spent the last day of 
 his life, and left it only to take charge of the Temple on the 
 fatal night of the assault by the Idumseans. He was wise and 
 vigorous, but what is the wisdom of man? A storm, memor- 
 able in the annals of devastation, had raged during the night. 
 Ananus, convinced that all was safe from human hostility in 
 this ravage of the elements, suffered the wearied citizens to 
 retire from their posts. The gates were opened by traitors ; 
 the Idumseans, furious for blood and spoil, rushed in; the 
 guard, surprised in their sleep, were massacred ; and by day- 
 light eight thousand corpses lay on the sacred pavements of 
 the Temple, and among them the noblest and wisest man of 
 Judea, Ananus. 
 
 " I found, " said the old man, " the body of my great and 
 good lord under a heap of dead, but was not suffered to convey 
 it to the tomb of his fathers, in the valley of Jehoshaphat. I 
 brought his sword and his phylacteiy here, and they are now 
 the only memorials of the noblest line that perished since the 
 Maccabee. In these chambers I have remained since, and in 
 them it is my hope to die. The palace is large ; the Roman 
 senators and officers reside in another wing, which I have not 
 entered for years, and shall never enter ; mild masters as the 
 Eomans have been to me, I can not bear to see them masters 
 within the walls of a chief of my country." 
 The story of Naomi occurred to me, but she was so much 
 
 471 
 
Zavvz Ubou ^ill f Come 
 
 In Closer beyond my hope of discoyery that I forbore to renew the old 
 
 Oonflnement 
 
 man's griefs by her name. A sound of trumpets and the tram- 
 pling of cavalry were now heard from the portal. 
 
 " It ia but the nightly changing of the troops, " said the 
 steward, "or perhaps the arrival of officers from the camp; 
 they often ride here after nightfall to supper, spend a few 
 hours, and by daybreak are gone. But of them and their pro- 
 ceedings I know nothing. No Jew enters, or desires to enter, 
 the banquet-hall of the enemies of his country." 
 
 A knocking at the door interrupted him, and an officer ap- 
 peared with an order for the prisoner in the palace to be re- 
 moved into strict confinement. The venerable steward gave 
 way to tears at the new offense to a leader of his people. I felt 
 some surprise, but merely asked what new alarm had de- 
 manded this harsh measure. 
 
 " I know no more, " replied the officer, " than that the gen- 
 eral has arrived here a few minutes since, and that as some 
 attempts have been lately made on his life, the council have 
 thought proper to put the Jewish poniards as much out of his 
 way as they can. The order is universal, and I am directed to 
 lead you to your apartment." 
 
 "Then let them look to my escape," said I; "I thank the 
 council for this service. While I continued above suspicion, 
 they might have thrown open every door in their dungeons. 
 But since they thus degrade me, you may tell them that their 
 waUs should be high and their bolts strong to keep me their 
 prisoner. Lead on, sir." 
 
 The council seemed to have been aware of my opinion, for 
 my new chamber was in one of the turrets. The lower floor 
 being occupied by the guard, there could be no undermini^ig; 
 the smallness of the building laid all the operations of the 
 fugitive open to the sentinel's eye, and the height was of 
 itself an obstacle that, even if the bars were forced, might 
 daunt the adventurer. The steward followed me to my den, 
 wringing his hands. Yet the little apartment was not incom- 
 modious ; there were some obvious attempts at rendering it a 
 fitter place of habitation than usual, and a more delicate frame 
 than mine might have found indulgence in its carpets and 
 
 472 
 
tTbe ZTceatment of a ipcieonet 
 
 cusliions. Even my solitary hours •were not forgotten, and saiatbfei'a 
 some handsome volumes from the governor's library occupied "* "" "' 
 a corner. There was a lyre, too, if I chose to sing my sor- 
 rows, and a gilded chest of wine if I chose to drink them 
 away. The height was an inconvenience only to my escape, 
 but a lover of landscape and fresh air would have envied me, 
 for I had the range of the horizon and the benefit of every 
 breeze from its four quarters. A Chaldee would have chosen 
 it for his commerce with the lights of heaven, for every star, 
 from the gorgeous front of Aldebaran to the minutest diamond 
 spark of the sky, shone there in all its brightness. And a 
 philosopher would have rejoiced in the secluded comfort of 
 a spot which, in the of&cer's parting pleasantry, was in every 
 sense "so much above the world." 
 
 478 
 
CHAPTER LXI 
 <A Stetuard's Narrative 
 
 Sstotbiti'a To me, the prison and the palace were the same. No be- 
 liever in fate, and a strong believer in the doctrine that in the 
 infinite majority of cases the unlucky have to thank only 
 themselves, I was yet irresistibly conscious of my own stem 
 exception. That there was an influence hanging over me I 
 deeply knew ; that I might as well strive with the winds was 
 the fruit of my whole experience ; and with the loftiest cal- 
 culation of the wonders that human energy may work, I aban- 
 doned myself on principle to the chances of the hour. I was 
 the weed upon the wave, and whether above or below the 
 surface, I knew that the wave would roll on, and that I must 
 roll on along with it. I was the atom in the air, and whether 
 I should float unseen forever or be brought into sight by the 
 gilding of some chance sunbeam, my destiny was to float and 
 quiver up and down. I was the vapor, and whether, like the 
 evening cloud, my after-years were to evolve into glorious 
 shapes and colors, or I should creep along the pools and val- 
 leys of fortune till the end of time — yet there I was, still in 
 existence, and that existence bound by laws incapable of the 
 choice or the caprices of man. 
 
 I had yet to learn the true burden of my great malediction, 
 for the circumstances of my life were adverse to its fated soli- 
 tude of soul ; its bitter conviction that there was not a being 
 under the canopy of heaven whose heart was toward me. I 
 was still in the very tumult of life and battling with the bold- 
 est. Public cares, personal interests, glowing attachments, 
 the whole vigorous activity of the citizen and the soldier 
 were mine. I was still husband, father, friend, and champion; 
 my task was difficult and grave, but it was ardent, proud, and 
 animating. I was made for this energy of the whole man ; 
 
 474 
 
7X StcwatO'0 Vlactative 
 
 master of a powerful frame that defied fatigue, and was proof Ube ffettets of 
 against the sharpest visitations of nature ; and of an intellect 
 "which, whatever might be its rank, rejoiced ia tasking itself 
 with labors that appalled the multitude. 
 
 Idle as I knew the praise of man, and sovereign as was my 
 scorn for the meanness which stoops to the vulgar purchase 
 of popularity, I felt and honored the true fame — that renown 
 whose statue is devoted, not by suspicious and clamorous flat- 
 tery of the time, but by the solemn and voluntary homage of 
 the future, whose splendor, like that of a new-born star, if it 
 take ages to reach mankind, is sure to reach them at last, and 
 shines for ages after its fount is extinguished ; whose essential 
 power, if it be coerced and obscured, like that of a man while 
 his earthly tenement still shuts him in, is thenceforth to de- 
 velop itself from strength to strength — the mortal putting on 
 immortality. 
 
 In the whirl of such thoughts I was often carried away, to 
 the utter oblivion of my peculiar fate, for the man and his as- 
 sociations were strong within me, in defiance of the command. 
 The gloom often passed away from my soul, as the darkness 
 does from the midnight ooean in the dash and foam of its own 
 waters. Nature is perpetual and drives the affections, sleep- 
 ing or waking, as it drives the blood through the old channels. 
 It was only at periods, produced by strong circumstance, that 
 I felt the fetter, but then the iron entered into my soul ! To 
 this partial pressure belongs the singular combination of such 
 a fate as mine with an interest in the world, with my loves 
 and hates, my thirst of human fame, my reluctance at the 
 prospect of the common ills and injuries of life. I was a man, 
 and this is the whole solution of the problem. For one remote 
 evidence that I was distinct from mankind, I had ten thou- 
 sand, direct and constant, that I was the same. But for the 
 partiality of the pressure there was a lofty reason. 
 
 The man who feels himself above the common fate is in- 
 stantly placed above the common defenses of mankind. He 
 may calumniate and ruin ; he may bum and plunder; he may 
 be the rebel and the murderer. Fear is, after all, the great 
 "defense. But what earthly power could intimidate him? 
 
 475 
 
^arrs XTbou ITtll f Come 
 
 » Aeesage What Tvere chams or the scaffold to him who felt instinctively 
 torn ep m u« ^^^^ tkne was not made for his being ; that the scaffold was 
 impotent; that he should yet trample on the grave of his 
 judge, on the moldered throne of his king, on the dead 
 sovereignty of his nation? With his impassiveness, his 
 experience, his knowledge, and his passions, concocted and 
 blackened by ages, what breast could be safe against the dag- 
 ger of this tremendous exile? What power be secuje against 
 the rebel machination or the open hostility of a being invested 
 with the strength of immortal evil? What was to hinder a 
 man made famUiax with every mode of influencing human 
 passions — the sage, the sorcerer, the fount of tradition, the 
 friend of their worshiped ancestors — from maddening the 
 multitude at whose head he willed to march, clothed in the 
 attributes of almost a divinity? 
 
 But I was precluded or saved from this fearful career by 
 the providential feeling of the common repugnances, hopes, 
 and fears of human nature. Pain and disease were instinc- 
 tively as much shunned by me as if I held my life on the 
 frailest tenure ; death was as formidable as my natural soldier- 
 ship would suffer it to be ; and even when the thought oc- 
 curred that I might defy extinction, it threw but a darker 
 shade over the common terrors, to conceive that I must un- 
 dergo the suffering of death without the peace of the grave. 
 Man bears his agony for once, and it is done. Mine might be 
 borne to the bitterest extremity, but must be borne with the 
 keener bitterness of the knowledge that it was in vain. 
 
 I was recalled from those reveries to the world by a paper 
 dropped through a crevice in the rafters above my head. On 
 seeing its signature, " Septimius," my first impulse was to tear 
 it in pieces, but Esther's name struck me, and I read it through. 
 
 " You must not think me a villain, tho I confess appear- 
 ances are much in favor of the supposition. But I had no 
 choice between denying that I knew you and being instantly 
 beheaded. This comes of discipline. Titus is a disciplinarian 
 of the first order, and the consequence is that no man dares 
 acknowledge any little irregularity before him: so far, his 
 morality propagates knaves. But I must clear myself of the 
 
 476 
 
B Steward'0 Barcatlve 
 
 charge of haTing acted disingenuously by your daughter. I a xowr's 
 take every power that binds the soul to witness that I know- 
 not what is become of her ; nay, I am in the deepest anxiety 
 to know the fate of one so lovely, so innocent, and so high- 
 minded. 
 
 "And now, prince, that I am out of the reach of your 
 frown, let me have courage to disburden my heart. I have 
 long known Esther, and as long loved her. From the time 
 when I was first received within your palace in NaphtaU — 
 and I have not forgotten that to your hospitality I then owed 
 my Ufe-^I was struck with her talents and her beauty. When 
 the war separated us and I returned to Eome, neither in 
 Eome nor in the empire could I see her equal. To solicit our 
 union I gave up the honors and pleasures of the court for the 
 campaign in your hazardous country. I searched Judea in 
 vain, and it was chiefly in the vague hope of obtaining some 
 intelligence of Esther that 1 solicited the command of our un- 
 fortunate mission. There I felt all hazard more than repaid 
 by her sight, to me lovelier than ever. I will acknowledge 
 that I prolonged my confinement to have the opportunity of 
 obtaining her hand. But her religious scruples were uncon- 
 querable. I implored her leave to explain myself to you. 
 Even this, too, she refused, * from her knowledge of your de- 
 cision.' What then was I to do? Loving to excess, bewU- 
 derd by passion, oppressed with disappointment, and seeing 
 but one object on earth, my evil genius prompted me to act 
 the dissembler. 
 
 " Under pretext of disclosing some secrets connected with 
 your safety I induced her to meet me, for the first and the 
 last time, on the battlements. There I besought her to fly 
 with me — ^to be my bride — to enjoy the illustrious rank and 
 life that belonged to the imperial blood ; and when we were 
 once wedded, to solicit the approval of her family. I was .sin- 
 cere ; I take the gods to witness I was sincere. But my en- 
 treaty was in vain; she repelled me with resolute scorn; she 
 charged me with treachery to you, to her, to faith, and to 
 sacred hospitality. I knelt to her — she spumed me. In dis- 
 traction, and knowing only that to live without her was 
 
 477 
 
Uacts Ubou ;rill ir come 
 
 wtu» 9JTC8 a wretchedness; I was bearing her away to the gate when we 
 "'"* were surrounded by armed men. My single attendant fled; I 
 was overpowered, and I saw Esther, my lovely and beloved 
 Esther, no more." 
 
 There was an honesty in this full confession that did more 
 for the writer's cause than subtler language. The yoimg 
 Eoman had been severely tried, and who could expect from a 
 soldier the self-denial that it might have been hard to find 
 under the brow of philosophy? Stem as time and trial had 
 made me, I was not petrified into a contempt for the generous 
 weaknesses of earlier years ; and to love a being like Esther 
 — what was it but to be just? WMle I honored the high sense 
 of duty which repelled a lover so dangerous to a woman's 
 heart, I pitied and forgave the violence of a passion lighted 
 by unrivaled loveliness of form and mind. 
 
 It was growing late, and the steward, who made a virtue of 
 showing me the more respect the more I was treated with 
 severity, came in to ai-range my couch for the night ; he would 
 suffer no inferior hands to approach the person of one of the 
 leaders of his fallen country. 
 
 "In truth," said he, "if I were not permitted to be your 
 attendant to-night, my prince might have been forgotten, for 
 every human being but myself is busy in the banquet-gallery." 
 
 Sounds of instruments and voices arose. 
 
 "There," said he, "you may hear the music. Titus gives a 
 supper in honor of the Emperor's birthday, and the palace will 
 be kept awake tmtil daylight, for the Eomans, with all their 
 gravity, are great lovers of the table, and Titus is renowned 
 for late sittings. Would you wish to see the banquet? " 
 
 So saying, he unbarred the shutters of a casement, com- 
 manding a view along the gallery, of which every door and 
 window was thrown open for the breeze. 
 
 If an ancient Roman could start from his slumber into the 
 midst of European life, he must look with scorn on its ab- 
 sence of grace, elegance, and fancy. But it is in its festivities, 
 and most of all in its banquets, that he would feel the incur- 
 able barbarism of the Gothic blood. Contrasted with the fine 
 displays that made the table of the Boman noble a picture 
 
 478 
 
S Stewat5's "Matratlve 
 
 and threw over the indulgence of appetite the colors of thesaiatbieiiffiewj 
 imagination, with what eyes must he contemplate the taste- 
 less and commonplace dress, the coarse attendants, the meager 
 ornament, the want of mirth, music, and intellectual interest 
 — the whole heavy machinery that converts the feast into the 
 mere drudgery of devouring! 
 
 The guests before me were fifty or sixty splendidly attired 
 men, attended by a crowd of domestics equipped with scarcely 
 less splendor, for no man thought of coming to the banquet in 
 the robes of ordinary Hfe. The embroidered couch, itself a 
 striking object, allowed the ease of position, at once delightful 
 in the relaxing climates of the south and capable of combining 
 with every grace of the human figure. At a slight distance 
 the table, loaded with plate, glittering under a profusion of 
 lamps and surroimded by couches covered with rich draperies, 
 was like a central source of light radiating in broad shafts of 
 every brilliant hue. All that belonged to the ornament of the 
 board was superb. The wealth of the patricians and their 
 perpetual intercourse with Greece made them masters of the 
 finest performances of the arts. The sums expended on plate 
 were enormous, but its taste and beauty were essential to the 
 refined enjoyment of the banquet. Copies of the most famous 
 statues and groups of sculpture in the precious metals, ex- 
 quisite trophies of Greek and Eoman victory, models of the 
 celebrated temples, mingled with vases of flowers and burning 
 perfumes ; and covering and coloring all was a vast scarlet 
 canopy, which combined the groups beneath the eye, and 
 threw the whole scene into the light that a painter would love. 
 
 But yet finer skiU was shown in the constant prevention of 
 that want of topic which turns conversation into weariness. 
 There was a rapid succession of new excitements. Even the 
 common changes of the table were made to assist this pur- 
 pose. The entrance of each course was announced by music, 
 and the attendants were preceded by a procession of minstrels, 
 chaplet-crowned, and playing Grecian melodies. Between the 
 courses a still higher entertainment was offered in the recita- 
 tions, dramas, and pleasantries, read or acted by a class of 
 professional satirists, of the absurdities of the day. 
 
 479 
 
tEatrg Ubou ZiU f Come 
 
 Ube nmuac. It is easy to imagine how fertile a source of interest this 
 ™*if«»t " must have been made by the subtle and splenetic Italian 
 moving through Eoman ]i£e ; the most various, animating, and 
 fantastic scene in which society ever shone. The recitations 
 were always looked to as the charm of the feast. They were 
 often severe, but their severity was reserved for public men 
 and matters. The court supplied the most tempting and pop- 
 ular ridicule, but the reciter was a privileged person, and all 
 the better-humored Caesars bore the castigation without a 
 murmur. No man in the empire was more laughed at than 
 Vespasian, and no man oftener joined in the laugh. 
 
 One of this morning's sports was to collect the burlesques 
 of the night before, give them new pungency by a touch of 
 the imperial pen, and then despatch them to make their way 
 through the world. The strong-headed sovereign knew the 
 value of an organ of public opinion, and used to call their 
 perusal, " sitting for his picture." The picture was sometimes 
 so strong that the courtiers trembled. But the veteran, who 
 had borne thirty years of battle, laid it up among " his por- 
 traits," laughed the insult away, and repeated his popular 
 saying, " that when he was old enough to come to years of 
 discretion and give up the emperor, he should become reciter 
 himself and have his turn with the world." 
 
 The recitations again were varied by a sportive lottery, in 
 which the guests drew prizes — sometimes of value, gems and 
 plate — sometimes merely an epigram, or a caricature. The 
 banquet generally closed with a theatric dance by the chief 
 public performers of the day, and the finest forms and the 
 most delicate art of Greece and Ionia displayed the story of 
 Theseus and Ariadne, the flight of Jason, the fate of Semele, 
 or some oth6r of their brUliant fictions. In the presence of 
 this vivid display sat, tempering its sportiveness by the maj- 
 esty of religion, the three great tutelar idols of Rome — Jove, 
 Juno, and Minerva, of colossal height, throned at the head of 
 the hall ; completing, false as they were, the most singular 
 and dazzling combination that man ever saw, of the delight of 
 the senses with the delight of the mind. 
 
 To me human delight was always a source of enjoyment, 
 
 480 
 
a StcwarO's "Warratlve 
 
 and in the soirnds of the harps and flutes and the pleasant Ube Stewart 
 murmur of cheerful voices I was not unwilling to forget the fljattban 
 spot from "which I listened. But the prisoner can not long for- 
 get his cell, and closing the casement I walked away. 
 
 "Little I ever thought," sighed the old steward, "of seeing 
 that sight. But all nations have fallen in their time, and per- 
 haps the only wonder is that Israel should have stood so long. 
 It is still stranger to my eyes to see that gallery as it is to- 
 night. It is fifteen years this very day since I saw the light 
 of lamp or the foot of man within those casements." 
 
 " Yet," said I, "the great Ananus lived as became his rank, 
 and there were then no dangers to disturb him in the midst of 
 his people." 
 
 " But there was one terrible event which made those walls 
 unhallowed ; nay, even in this spot I would not remain alone 
 through the night to have the palace for my own." 
 
 A rich strain of music that ushered in some change in the 
 displays of the banquet interrupted my question, while the 
 old man's countenance assumed something of the alarm which 
 he described. 
 
 "That sound," said he, shuddering, "goes to my heart. It 
 is the same that I heard on the night of death. On that night 
 Matthan, the only son of my great master, was to be wedded 
 to the daughter of the prince of Hebron, and that gallery was 
 laid out for the wedding-feast. AH the leaders of Jerusalem 
 were there, all the noble women, all the chief priesthood ; all 
 the grandeur, wealth, and beauty of our tribe. But Matthan 
 was not the son of his father's mind. He had fled from his 
 father's roof years before, and taken refuge in the mountains. 
 The caravan passing through Galilee dreaded the name of 
 Matthan, for he was bold ; the chief of the hills saw his fol- 
 lowers flying from his side, for deadly was the spear of Mat- 
 than ; but he was generous, and often the slave rejoiced in the 
 breaking of his chains, and the peasant saw his flocks cover 
 the valley again by the arm and the bounty of Matthan. 
 
 "I saw ^ini on the day when he returned; danger or sor- 
 row had wrought a change in him like the passing from youth 
 to age. His strength was gone, and his voice was broken, like 
 
 31 481 
 
Z&tvs trbou zm f Come 
 
 H Countenance the voice of him that treads on the brink of the timely grave. 
 Too " His noble father wept over him, but gave him welcome ; and 
 the palace was filled with rejoicing for the coming back of the 
 first-born. Yet he took no delight in the feast, neither in the 
 praises of men nor in the voice of the singer. He wandered 
 through his father's halls, even as the leopard, chained and 
 longing to escape to the desert and the prey again. Disturb- 
 ances were beginniag to be heard in Jerusalem, and he fell 
 into the hands of the evil one. Onias, the man of blood, be- 
 trayed him iato the secret ways of conspiracy against our 
 conquerors. His heart was bold and his temper high, and he 
 was easily drawn into the desperate game by a villain who 
 stirred up the generous spirit of our nobles, only to sell their 
 blood to Eome. 
 
 "He grew more lonely day by day; withdrew from the 
 amusements of his rank, and shut himself up in. the wing of 
 the palace, ending in this tower. In this room I have seen his 
 lamp burning through the livelong winter nights, and grieved 
 over the sleeplessness that showed he was among the unhappy. 
 
 " At last a change was wrought upon him. He went forth ; 
 he took delight in the horse and the chariot, in the chase, 
 and the feast, and the die. His father, that he might bless 
 his posterity before he died, counseled him to take to wife 
 Thamar, the noblest of the daughters of Hebron. The day of 
 the marriage was appointed. On that day I saw him come 
 from the council-hall, after receiving the congratulations of 
 his friends. I saw him passing along to his chamber, but I 
 dared not cross him on his way. He thought that he was 
 alone, and then he gave way to his agony. Never did I be- 
 hold such a countenance of wrath and wo. It was bloated 
 vfith prodigal living, and it was now flushed with wine. He 
 raved, he rent his bridal raiment and cast it from him ; he 
 wept ; he knelt and cursed the hour he was born. I remained 
 in my refuge, yet more in fear of his countenance than of his 
 sword. He took letters from his bosom, read them, and then 
 scattered their fragments in the air. He tottered toward me, 
 and I dreaded his rage, but I saw at a glance that his mind 
 was gone. He was talking to the air ; he clasped his hands 
 
 482 
 
21 Steward's marrative 
 
 wildly; Ms face was covered with tears; he implored for Ube strange= 
 mercy, and fell. I hastened to bear him to a couch ; he saw jBrtsegroom 
 me not, but cried out against himself as a betrayer and a mur- 
 derer, the fugitive from honor, the criminal marked by the 
 hand of Heaven. 
 
 " I called for help. His mountaineers rushed in ; they re- 
 pulsed me ; and chiding him ia their barbarian tongue, and 
 seeming accustomed to those fits of sorrow, carried away iu 
 their arms the noble Matthan, crying like a child. 
 
 " The evening fell, and I saw him ride forth at the head of 
 his kindred to bring home the bride. The wretchedness of the 
 day had passed, and those who looked only on the lofty bear- 
 ing and heard the joyous language of the leader of that train 
 would have thought that sorrow had never touched his heart. 
 I watched for his return with anxiety, for I deemed him un- 
 hallowed. 
 
 " But all was well ; the bridal train returned. Matthan, 
 glittering in jewels, came proudly, reining a steed white as 
 the snow. The harp and trumpet, the chorus of the singers, 
 the light of the torches, and the glitter of the youths and 
 maidens who danced before the bride made me forget every- 
 thing but the joy of seeing peace among us once more. But 
 at the banquet the wonder of all was the bridegroom himself. 
 Loud as the guests' voices were, his voice was the loudest^ 
 he laughed at everything, as if he had never known a care in 
 the world, or was never to know one again. The jest was 
 never out of his lips ; and when he pledged the cup to the 
 health of the company or the fair bride — and often he pledged 
 it that evening — he always said something that raised shouts 
 of applause. I once or twice passed near him, but he had 
 wiped every sign of grief from his features, and if he seemed 
 to be mad with anything, it was with joy. The gallery rang 
 with admiration, and not less with surprise, for he had shut 
 himself up so long from the people that he was almost un- 
 known, and the world is generally good-natured enough to in- 
 vent a character for those who will take no trouble to make 
 •one for themselves. Some had set him down for intolerable 
 haughtiness ; others for fear of mixing in the growing tumults ; 
 
 483 
 
Z&tps a:bou tCill ir Come 
 
 Ube Comins of others for a dealer in the black arts, and still others for a 
 mere fool. But now opinions were altered, and every voice of 
 his tribe was loud in wonder at the talents he had so long hid 
 in retirement. 
 
 "I was standing in the train of the High Priest, near the 
 central casement, through which you may now see the throne 
 of Titus. My eyes, I know not why, strayed to this tower; I 
 marked a feeble lamp, a form rushiag backward and forward 
 in gestures of violent sorrow. A foot beside me made me turn. 
 There stood Matthan with his eyes fixed upon the tower. But 
 his miad was gone. He looked like a man stricken into stone. 
 He saw me not ; he saw not the guests ; he saw nothing but 
 the feeble lamp, the hurrying form. 
 
 "The chorus of the singing women announced that the 
 bride was about to come. I looked up at the tower; the lamp 
 was twinkling its last, and the form was stUl seen wriaging 
 its hands. The hymn began that denotes the veiling of the 
 bride ; but my eyes were fixed on the dying light and the 
 form, which now held a cup in its hand. A shriek was heard, 
 so wild that the guests sprang from their seats in alarm and 
 astonishment. My eye turned upon Matthan, but he had 
 summoned up his strength, and tho I saw him, shake in every 
 limb, his proud lip wore a smile. 
 
 " Clasping his hand upon his brow, he abruptly turned from 
 the window and demanded why the bridal attendants delayed 
 the coming of the princess of Hebron. The lamp had now 
 disappeared, and the tower was in darkness again. The por- 
 tals were at length thrown open and the bride was led up to 
 the canopy beneath which the bridegroom stood. He raised 
 the veil. His countenance was instantly transformed into 
 horror. He uttered no cry, but stood gazing. The bride let 
 fall the veil again, and taking his hand, led him slowly and 
 without a word down the hall. 
 
 " None checked this strange ceremony ; none dared to check 
 it. We were deprived of all power by astonishment. The 
 High Priest himself stood with his venerable hands lifted up 
 to heaven, as if he felt that evil was come upon his house. 
 The wedded pair walked in silence through the long range of 
 
 484 
 
a StewatO's marratipe 
 
 chambers to the tower, and as they passed, the nimiberless at- matttan'e 
 tendants felt themselyes bound by mysterious awe. But our 
 senses at length returned, and Ananus, in the full dread of 
 misfortune, yet bold to his dying hour, suffered none to go 
 before him. We found the door of the tower barred, and long 
 summoned Matthan to come forth and relieve our fears lest 
 some desperate invention of sorcery had been played upon 
 him. No answer was returned, and we forced the door. 
 
 " What a sight was there ! Two corpses lay side by side. 
 The blood still trickled from the bosom of the unfortunate 
 Matthan. I raised the veil of the bride; the hue of poison 
 was upon the Ups, but they were not the lips of the princess 
 of Hebron. The countenance was Arabian, and of exceeding 
 beauty, but wan and wasted by sorrow." 
 
 " Who, then, was his strange companion in the hall? " I 
 asked. 
 
 The answer was given with a shudder. " I know not, but it 
 seemed scarcely a being of this world. A new confusion 
 arose. The mountaineers, on hearing of the death of their 
 lord and still more of that noble creature in whom they hon- 
 ored the race of their chieftains, demanded vengeance : they 
 were too fierce to listen to reason, and our attempts to ex- 
 plain the unhappy truth only kindled their rage. Simitars 
 were drawn, blood was shed, and tho the barbarians were 
 repelled, yet they plundered the wing of the palace and bore 
 off the infant offspring of their dead mistress, the last scion 
 of an illustrious tree that was itself so soon to feel the ax. 
 
 " I saw the unfortunate and guilty Matthan laid in the sep- 
 ulcher of his fathers — the last that ever slept there, for his 
 great sire, worthy of being laid in the monument of kings, 
 was denied the honors of the grave by his murderers. Yet 
 he sleeps in the noblest of all graves ; his memory is treasured 
 in the love and sorrows of his country. 
 
 " It was discovered that Matthan, during his WEinderings in 
 
 the desert, had wedded the daughter of a sheik. He loved 
 
 '. her with the violence of his nature, but the prospects which 
 
 opened to him on his return to his country made him shrink 
 
 : from the acknowledgment of his Arabian bride. Yet to live 
 
tCaccs Ebou ^ill IF Come 
 
 Ube Hrabfan without her he found impossible, and he brought her to the 
 "^" tower. Surrounded by his mountaineers, this portion of the 
 palace was inaccessible. His solitude and the lights seen, 
 through the casements were often thought to imply studies of 
 the strange philosophy or evil superstitions that had begun to 
 infect the noble youth of Palestine. 
 
 " But the necessity of sustaining his ambition by an illus- 
 trious marriage drove his fickle heart at last to treachery. The 
 Arabian knew the intended marriage, and pined away before 
 his eyes. Remorse and ambition alternately distracted him. 
 The bridal procession was seen by the unhappy wife, and she 
 swallowed poison. The rest is beyond my power to account 
 for. But it is rumored among the attendants that strange 
 sights have since been seen and sounds of a bridal throng 
 heard in the chambers through which their last melancholy 
 procession was made ; tho, whether it be truth or the com- 
 mon fear of the peasantry, I know not, nor indeed wish too 
 curiously to inquire." 
 
CHAPTER LXn 
 
 A Prisoner in the Tower 
 
 As the old man spoke, sounds arose not unsuited to Ms confusion 
 tale. But my faitli in the legend did not amount to so sudden °"^ 
 a realization, and I looked toward the banquet. There, from 
 ■whatever motive, everything was in sudden disturbance. The 
 guests were hurrying from the tables. Many had thrown the 
 military cloak over their festal robes ; some were in the ad- 
 joining apartments hastily equipping themselves with arms 
 and armor. A group was standing round Titus, evidently in 
 anxious consultation. In the spacious grounds below, horse- 
 men were mountiag and attendants hurrying in all directions. 
 The calls of the clarion echoed through the courts ; shortly 
 after a large body of cavalry came wheeling round to the 
 portal of the gardens, and Titus went forth, conspicuous 
 among the bustling crowd for his manly composure. He gave 
 some orders which were despatched by tribunes galloping as 
 for their lives ; then mounting his charger, rode slowly through 
 the gates at the head of his stately company, himself the most 
 stately of them all. 
 
 The woods surrounding the palace soon intercepted the 
 view of the imperial troop ; and after straining my eyes as 
 long as I could see the glitter of a helmet by the waning 
 moon, I turned to my casement to make that prayer for the 
 peace of Jerusalem which had been nightly on my lips from 
 the hour when they first could pronounce the name. From 
 the dungeon has that supplication risen ; from the mine ; from 
 the sands of the wilderness ; from the shores of the farthest 
 ocean ; from the bosom of the rolling waters ; from the fires 
 of the persecutor ; from the field before the battle ; from the 
 field covered with its dead; from the living grave of the 
 
 487 
 
tlarcs ITbou Hill t Come 
 
 Vbe Kett monk ; from the cavern of the robber ; from the palace ; even 
 f Humination „ . , re tji 
 
 from the scafEold ! 
 
 While I continued in this outpouring of the soul, with my 
 eyes fixed on the cloudy world above, a pale reflection spread 
 over the masses of rolling vapor ; it lingered, faded, and night 
 covered the earth; suddenly a fierce luster turned the low and 
 heavy clouds into the color of conflagration. 
 
 "There is an attack on either the enemy's camp or the 
 city," I exclaimed to my companion. " Daybreak it can not be, 
 for the middle watch has not been half an hour sounded. Help 
 me to escape; be but my g^uide through the chambers, and 
 name your recompense." 
 
 The steward wrung his helpless hands, and offered his life 
 to my service, but described the precautions of my jailers so 
 fully that I gave up the idea. Still I was tossed by anxious 
 thoughts. I heard the treading of the guard until its recur- 
 rence irritated me. The moanings of the wind through the 
 trees told that a. storm was rising, and to get rid of the un- 
 easy conflict between the desire of sleep and the difficulty of 
 shutting out thought, I rose and watched the progress of the 
 tempest. 
 
 The lightnings flashed in broad beams through the clouds, 
 and the rain fell with the violence of the southern storm. 
 But through the flash, deepening again, shone the red illumi- 
 nation above the city, and neither the roar of the wind nor the 
 dash of the descending deluge could extinguish the shouts 
 that, remote as they were, I knew to be shouts of battle. I 
 - measured the tower with my eye ; I tried the strength of the 
 bars ; but the attempt only served to disturb my companion, 
 who had survived his sorrows long enough to sleep as soundly 
 as if there were not a wo on earth. 
 
 "I am glad," said he, "that you awoke me, for I was 
 dreaming the story of my unfortunate lord and his son over 
 again." 
 
 " The natural result of your having so lately renewed its 
 recollection." 
 
 " Aye, there is perhaps scarcely a room under the palace 
 roof where some heart is not trembling to-night with ghostly 
 
 488 
 
Co]>yright, IdOl, by Fuak &, Wagnalls Company, N, Y. and' London. 
 
 Titus rode at the head of his stately company, himself the most 
 
 Set page 487. 
 
a IPrisonct In tbe Blower 
 
 fear, nor a peasant's thatch where the death of Matthan and h time in 
 the Arabian has not made pale faces ; and where men tell of *"' '^ 
 
 the bridegroom stricken in his hour of pride. But powers 
 
 of Heaven preserve us ! look there ! " 
 
 I looked, but it was to the old man, whose countenance 
 alarmed me with the idea that he had wrought his imagina- 
 tion to a hazardous extreme. I took his cold hand, and tell- 
 ing him that I felt unable to sleep, gently laid his stiffened 
 limbs on the couch and bade him try to rest. But his eye 
 stared through the casement till I followed its direction, yet 
 with only the added belief that he was overcome by the com- 
 mon terrors of the household ; for to me tenfold darkness lay 
 upon every object from the ground to the battlements. 
 
 I accidentally glanced at the gallery, and there I saw a 
 figure, slight and shadowy, passing backward and forward in 
 front of a quivering lamp ! My surprise was more startling 
 than I would venture to communicate to my companion, al- 
 ready almost paralyzed with fear. But if I had conjured up a 
 phantom to give force to the tale, none could have been more 
 closely similar. The figure was enveloped in robes whose 
 richness I could perceive even across the court ; the gestures, 
 the wild hurry of the pacings through the chamber, the gen- 
 eral air of wo and distraction, were not to be mistaken. In , 
 the midst of the. silence I heard the creaking of bolts and the 
 fall of chains that seemed to be at my side. A single word 
 followed, but that word was terribly comprehensive — " Death !" 
 The sound was uttered in a sepulchral tone, that left the imagi- 
 nation free to shape the picture with what suUenness it willed! 
 
 But the sound was scarcely uttered when I heard a shriek, 
 wild as ever told of wo ; saw the figure sink down, and the 
 lamp quiver and expire ! The old man had seen what I had 
 seen, but the natural feebleness of age left him a mere help- 
 less prey to superstitious fear, and no attempt to explaia 
 these singular coincidences could calm him. He was con- 
 vinced that the vengeance that had stricken his master's house 
 was still abroad, and that he had beheld its minister. Re- 
 monstrance was in vain, and he sank alternately into reveries 
 and the stupefaction of spiritual terror. 
 
 489 
 
G^atrs trbou Uill IT Come 
 
 Haomi, tbe I tended him with the more interest from my being not 
 
 Specter 
 
 altogether unimpressed with the possibility that his alarms 
 were just. I was no believer in the vulgar narratives of 
 superstition. But nature has her mysteries ! 
 
 While I sat beside the couch and watched the ebb and flow 
 of life in a frame that I sometimes expected to see utterly 
 give way, a jarring of bolts again struck my ear. T listened 
 with a strange emotion. The old man had heard it, and in a 
 new convulsion grasped both my hands and held me close. 
 The sound returned; it increased; I saw the wall of the 
 tower open and the figure stand before me. 
 
 " It is she ; it is she ! " shudderingly murmured my com- 
 panion, fixing his eyes on it and holding me with the cla.sp of 
 agony. 
 
 The heart beat loud within me ; but I interposed myself be- 
 tween the corpse-like being whom I held in my arms and the 
 unearthly visitant, and demanded " for what purpose it had 
 come." The figure started as I spoke; then gazing intently 
 on me as I turned to the light, threw the mantle from its fore- 
 head and fell at my feet. The lovely Naomi was the specter! 
 Yet perfectly guiltless of the ghostly potency of her pres- 
 ence and the unfilial alarm into which she had thrown her 
 adopted father, whom she was delighted to find, but whom 
 she candidly acknowledged " she never dreamed of finding 
 there." 
 
 "The tower contains a prisoner," said she tremblingly, 
 "who must be saved this night, for to-morrow at daybreak is 
 his dreadful hour. I knew that he would be condemned, and 
 we agreed on a signal, by which I was to learn when the time 
 was fixed. I have watched all night for it, and almost be- 
 trayed myself by a cry of horror that I could not suppress at 
 the sight of that signal just now. I had no resource but to 
 bear my own message, and assist him myself in escaping from 
 this place of sorrow." 
 
 "But, my child, who is the prisoner, or where is he? " 
 
 She blushed and said : " One who saved me when the world 
 was against me. He rescued me from the hands of barbarians 
 — and could I leave him to perish? " 
 
 490 
 
21 pttsonec in tbe XTower 
 
 " Lead on tlien, and without delay, for daybreak is not far. Saiatbfel Jint* 
 But how shall we find our way to his dungeon? " " 
 
 " I paid high, " said she, " for my knowledge of this tower, 
 and it has no concealments from me. Eemove this bar." 
 
 I drew out a slender iron rod ; a door deep in the wall gare 
 way and disclosed a winding stair, by which we descended. 
 We found the prisoner writing, and so earnestly occupied that 
 our footsteps did not interrupt him. 
 
 "There," soliloquized he as he ran his eye down the epistle. 
 " I think, my masters if not the better, some of you will be 
 the wiser for my labors. Home truths are the truths, after 
 all. Titus will learn what a set of incurable reprobates he 
 has about hiin, and by this time to-morrow, when I shall care 
 as little for mankind as mankind ever cared for me, I shall 
 do the state service ; from my gibbet turn reformer and make 
 the scaffold popular. And now, for the farewell to my lady 
 and my love." 
 
 He sighed and threw down the pen. 
 
 " No, my Naomi, I can say nothing half so fond or half so 
 bitter as my feelings would have me say at this moment. ; 
 
 Would that I had never seen you, if we are to part so soon. 
 Yet why should I regret to have known innocence and beauty 
 in their perfection? No, my love, rosy was the hour when I 
 first saw you, and proud is even the parting hour that tells me 
 I could have loved so noble a being — but all is better as it is. 
 How could I have borne to see you following the fortunes of 
 a wanderer, of a man without a country or a name? Then 
 farewell, my Naomi dearest, farewell ; you were the gleam of 
 sunshine in my cloudy day, the star in my dreary night, and 
 while my heart beats you shall be there. Your name shall be 
 the last upon my lips, and if there be thought beyond the 
 grave, you shall be remembered, and — oh, how deeply — 
 loved!" 
 
 I had been on the point of disturbing his meditation, but 
 Naomi, with the fine avarice of passion, would not lose a syl-. 
 lable. She held me back, and implored me by her countenance 
 to let her have the full confession of her lover's faith. That 
 beautiful countenance ran through all the shades of feeling, 
 
 491 
 
Xitixv^ tCbou zm V dome 
 
 Vbe and -was covered with blushes and tears ■while the unconscious 
 iRecoflm3e& 'worshiper poured out his deyotion. But the time was fiyiug ; I 
 insisted on interrupting this epicureanism of the soul ; and when 
 Naomi found that she must hear no more, she would allow 
 none but herself the pleasure of the surprise. A sigh which 
 swelled from the prisoner's heart was echoed. He turned 
 suddenly, and pronounced her name with a loudness of delight 
 that nothiug but the chance that protects the imprudent could 
 have prevented from bringing the guard upon us. His quick 
 eye soon caught me where I stood in shadow, and he sprang 
 forward to overpower the intruder. But the lamp saved us 
 from the encounter, and lifting his hands and eyes in amaze- 
 ment, he laughed as loudly as he had spoken. 
 
 "In the name of all the wonders of the world," exclaimed 
 he, "are you here too? Where are we to meet next? We 
 have met already in water, fire, and earth, and nothing is left 
 for us now but the clouds. Come, be honest, prince, and tell 
 me whether it was not for the sake of some such experiment 
 that you ventured here ; for if another hour finds us within 
 these four walls, we shall know the grand secret as assuredly 
 as Titus wears a head and has a traitor at his elbow. " 
 
 It was the Arab captain ! I was rejoiced to find that in at- 
 tempting to save the life of Naomi's lover, I was discharging 
 a debt to the preserver of my own. To my mention of this 
 service he replied with soldierlike frankness that "I owed 
 him no obligation whatever ; he had long hated the intoler- 
 able cruelty of Cestius, and the debt was on his side, as I had 
 indulged him with an opportunity that every of&cer in the 
 service would have been happy to use. " 
 
 Naomi hung upon me, pale, and anxiously listening to every 
 sound abroad. 
 
 "This little trembler," said he sportively, as he took her 
 passive hand, " I am destined to meet always in alarm. I first 
 found her flying from a troop of human brutes who were rob- 
 bing the baggage of the Roman camp ; I thought her worth 
 something better than to keep goats on the Libanus and weave 
 tiirbans for some Syrian deserter; she was of the same opin- 
 ion, and fell in love with me on the spot." 
 
 493 
 
B prisonet in tbe Zovoet 
 
 Ifaomi exclaLned against this version of the story. Httemptg to 
 
 "No matter for the mode," said he; "I give the facts, 
 dazzled her ambition by the promise of a palace — in the air ; 
 bribed her avarice by the display of a purse unconscious of 
 gold ; and bewitched her senses by a speech, a smile, and a 
 figure that for the first time in my life I found to be irre- 
 sistible." 
 
 Naomi again protested, and the dialog might have con- 
 sumed half the night mthout their discovering the lapse of 
 time, had I not interposed and inquired what further means of 
 escape were in our power. The lovely girl started from her 
 waking dream and pointed to a ring in the wall. I tried it, 
 but it resisted my force. At length we all strove at it to- 
 gether. But no door opened. Naomi wrung her hands. 
 
 "The unfortunate lord of this tower in former times," said 
 she, and the tears stood in her eyes, " always predicted that it 
 would be fatal to his family To escape Ms own fate, he 
 pierced its walls with passages in every direction, but they 
 did not save my noble, my unfortunate father. " 
 
 She sat down weeping while I tore at the ring, which finally 
 "broke off in my hands. The lover stood with folded arms, 
 gazing in sad delight on the beautiful being from whom he 
 was so soon to part forever, and whose face and form wore 
 almost the shadowy loveliness of a vision. 
 
 The chance of their escape now devolved on me solely, for 
 neither would have desired to disturb that strange and melan- 
 choly luxury of contemplation. But as the concealed door 
 must be given up, the only resource was to return to my cell 
 and thence make our way through the passage by which 
 Naomi had arrived. A glance from the casement showed 
 me the court filled with soldiery and lights moving through 
 the palace. This hope was gone ! 
 
 In the deepest doubt and fear I ventured up through the 
 tower to discover whether my cell was not already in posses- 
 sion of the guard. I pushed back the door noiselessly ; the 
 cell was empty ; even the old steward was gone. Imagination 
 is a dangerous auxiliary in such a crisis, and it created out of 
 this trivial change a host of alarms. He must have fled to 
 
 493 
 
 Escape 
 
tTartB O^bou ttfll IF Gome 
 
 SaiatMci Bte. give notice of my retreat, or to rouse the vigilance of tlie sol- 
 coversa Boor ^^^ ^jj the Stories of the wonders that he had seen. Escape 
 was hopeless. I even heard a confused whisperiag, which 
 proved that we had fallen into the snare. 
 
 There was now no alternative but to be seized and die, or to 
 make a bold rush for life and take our chances. I carried 
 the fainting N"aomi up the stairs ; and suppressing the infinite 
 risk of the attempt to penetrate through a building in which 
 its inmates were still awake and busy, and which was guarded 
 by the vigilance of Boman patrols, I advised that we should 
 do anything rather than remaia where we were. She was 
 timid and submissive ; but to my surprise the bold seaman, 
 the haughty leader of men, harder to be ruled than the ele- 
 ments, the gallant despiser of death but a day past, was now 
 totally unnerved. The novelty of passion absorbed the spirit 
 of the man ; he lingered near his mistress, and gazed on her 
 with an intenseness that told his world was there. To my 
 questions he gave no answer, but obeyed without a word, or 
 a glance turned from the exquisite countenance that sank and 
 blushed under his gaze. If the actual power of enchantment 
 had been wrought upon him, he could not have been more 
 fixed, helpless, and charmed. 
 
 I heard the voice of pain, and thought of the ancient fol- 
 lower of the house of Ananus. My cooler judgment had ac- 
 quitted him of betraying me into the enemy's hands. A part 
 of the cell was filled up with remnants of a canopy removed 
 from the statelier apartments. The groan came from behind 
 them. I fiung them away, and saw a door open by which he 
 must have entered. I returned, desired the captain and Naomi 
 to follow, wrapped myself in a cloak, and sword in hand, led 
 the way through the darkness. I had not gone far when I 
 found myself treading on a human body. I sprang back, but 
 the figure, more startled than I, rolled down a succession of 
 steps before me, and falling against a door, burst it open, A 
 strong light from within flashed up the stairs, and taking 
 Naomi's hand, I led her down this steep and narrow outlet of 
 the grand gallery. As she came toward the light, a wild cry 
 was given; a man rushed back, and exclaiming, "It is she 
 
 494 
 
B iptisoner in tbe XTower 
 
 risen from the grave, the Arabian ! " darted through the vast Haonrf oauK* 
 hall, in which were still a number of domestics setting it in "' *"" 
 order after the banquet. Every eye instantly turned to the 
 spot from which we emerged. Naomi's white-robed form, 
 followed by her lover's and mine wrapped to the brow in our 
 dark mantles, formidably verified the superstition. 
 
 The crowd were already prepared to witness a wonder on 
 this night of wo ; they fled or fell on their faces. The man, 
 still rushing on, propagated terror before us ; and through the 
 long vista of lighted chambers, where to be seen might have 
 been ruin, we moved unquestioned until we reached the portal. 
 It, too, had been thrown open by some of the fugitives ; the 
 gardens were deserted ; the troops had been drawn to another 
 quarter of the palace. Before us was welcome solitude, and 
 we were soon winding through the wood-paths by the light of 
 the stars. 
 
 49S 
 
CHAPTER LXra 
 
 A cNUnsirzVs Pcft»er of Speech 
 
 Ubejiigbt While ve traversed the grounds, the heaving of the 
 branches under the wind, which rose in strong gusts from 
 time to time, and the rush of the rivulets from the hillsides, 
 which retained the swell of the melting snows, prevented our 
 hearing other sounds ; but when we emerged from this little 
 forest of every plant that yields fruit or fragrance and began 
 to climb the surrounding ridge, the sights and sounds to which 
 I had been so long accustomed broke upon us. To the south 
 a long line of light showed where Jerusalem was struggling 
 against a midnight assault, and the uproar of battle came wild- 
 ly on the wind. The Eoman camp-fires blazed round the prom- 
 ontory Scopas, like the innumerable crevices of a huge vol- 
 canic hill breathing flame from root to summit. But a more 
 immediate peril lay behind us. The first height from which 
 we could see the palace showed us the well-known fire-signals 
 of the enemy flaming on its battlements. Our escape had been 
 discovered. The signals were answered from every point of 
 the horizon. Where a signal was, there was an enemy's post; 
 we could not advance a step without the most imminent 
 chance of seizure, and in those times, death by the shaft or the 
 sword was the instant consequence. The signals were followed 
 by the trumpet, and every blast from the palace roof was 
 answered for miles round. 
 
 The whole horizon was alive with enemies, and yet, if iu 
 every call captivity and death had not been the language, this 
 circling echo of the noblest of all instruments of sound, com- 
 ing ia a thousand various tones from the varied distances, 
 softened by the dewy softness of the night, and breathing 
 from sources invisible, as if they were inspired only by the 
 winds, or poured from the clouds, might have seemed sublime. 
 
 4% 
 
U flSinstrere power ot Speccb 
 
 But a new alarm rose in the direction of tlie forest, wliicli Uracnes bj 
 now lay beneath us like a sea slightly silvered on its thousand °* 
 billows by the sinking moon. The trampling of cavalry was 
 distinctly heard in pursuit, and torches were seen rushing 
 through the trees. The pursuit had turned into the very path 
 by which we came, and the baying of a bloodhound up the 
 ridge was guiding the cavalry to our inevitable capture if we 
 remained. I was resolved not to be taken while I could fight 
 or fly, and pointing out to my fellow fugitives the horsemen, 
 as they scoured the foot of the hUls, I plunged down into a 
 ravine, where I could expect to find only some torrent too 
 deep for us to pass. But it was at least protracted fate. 
 
 I had given Naomi into the hands of her lover, and while 
 they slowly descended the precipice, returned to its edge to 
 ascertain whether the enemy were still upon our steps. The 
 rock toward the summit was splintered into a number of little 
 pinnacles, grasping one of which, I cliing, listening and gazing 
 with indescribable nervousness. The sounds of pursuit had 
 perished, or were so mingled with the common sounds of 
 nature as to be unheard, and I was congratulating myself 
 upon our total safety, and about to return to the spot where I 
 had left my companions, when the torchlight shot up from the 
 dell, immediately below me. I gave a hurried glance along 
 the ravine, but Naomi was not there. A detachment of 
 archers was climbing over the huge rocks that filled up its 
 depth, and flashing torches through every hollow where a 
 human being could lie. 
 
 To rescue my unfortunate charge was my first resolve, and 
 I began to let myself down the abrupt side of the hollow be- 
 fore the torches disappeared. They at last seemed to be com- 
 pletely gone, but as I hung within a few feet of the path, a 
 growl and a dash at my throat nearly overthrew my steadi- 
 ness. I knew that a precipice of immense depth lay under- 
 neath, and in the utter darkness I could have no certainty 
 that my next step might not carry me over it. 
 
 My sole expedient was to grasp the rock with one hand and 
 defend myself to the last with the other. The bloodhound 
 had tracked me, and he flew again at my throat ; but I was 
 
 32 497 
 
charts Sbou Sill t Come 
 
 WetimB of tbe now prepared ; I caught him in the bound and whirled him 
 '**' down the ravine. His howl, as he fell from crag to crag, be- 
 trayed me at once. A hundred torches rushed upward. I 
 climbed the pinnacle, sprang from its top into a pine thicket, 
 and winding over a long extent of broken ground, gradually 
 lost torches and outcries together. 
 
 After a pause, to consider in what quarter final escape was 
 most probable, a glimmering light through the thicket at a 
 considerable distance toward the city determined me. My 
 pursuers must be far behind ; the loss of the bloodhound di- 
 minished still more their chance of reaching my track through 
 a remarkably wild and broken district ; and come what would, 
 whether that light was kindled by friends or enemies, I should 
 see them before they could discover me. I struggled on until 
 I reached the base of a ridge, on whose farther side the light 
 gleamed. To ascend it was beyond my powers, but by gliding 
 along the base I found a crevice, which, enlarged whether by 
 nature or the human hand, led throiigh the hill. My way in. 
 darkness was brief; I had not gone a third of the distance 
 when the light shone strongly through the cavern. At its 
 mouth I stood overwhelmed — I had strayed into the memor- 
 able valley of the Crosses ! 
 
 Thousands of men, besmeared with blood, dust, and clay, 
 half naked, brandishing weapons still dripping with gore; 
 whirling torches ; shouting out roars of triumph ; howling in 
 desperate lamentation ; kneeling and weeping over the dead 
 with the most violent affliction ; wrapping themselves in robes 
 and armor; tearing away their raiment, and flinging sword 
 and spear into the flames ; throwing hundreds of corpses into 
 one promiscuous burning, round which they danced with furi- 
 ous exultation ; carrying away on litters of lances and branches, 
 corpses that they seemed to hallow as more than mortal; 
 every strange variety of humaji passion, wound up to its 
 wildest height, was pictured before me, and all was thrown 
 into the most living distinctness by the blaze of an immense 
 central heap of timber. 
 
 The horrid cruelties of the execution had been heard of in 
 Jerusalem, and the spirit of the people was roused to ven- 
 
 498 
 
B jflbinstters ipowec ot Speecb 
 
 geance. With that imperishable courage which distinguished icbe xastof tbe 
 them above all nations, a scorn of hazard that in those un- 
 happy days only urged them to their ruin, they determined to 
 make the enemy pay iu slaughter for the memory of their 
 warriors. A multitude without a leader, but among whom 
 served with the simple spear many a leader, poured out from 
 the gates to attack an enemy flushed with victory, and secured 
 in entrenchments, impregnable to the naked strength of my 
 unfortunate countrymen. They divided into two armies, one 
 of which assaulted the lines, while the other marched to the 
 valley of the Crosses. The assault on the lines was repelled 
 after long and desperate displays of intrepidity. It was the 
 intelligence of this attack that had broken up the banquet. 
 The Eomans sustained heavy losses in the early part of the 
 night; their outposts in the plain were sacrificed, and the 
 chief part of their cantonments burned. 
 
 But the "army of vengeance," a name given to it alike by 
 Jew and Eoman, accomplished its purpose with dreadful 
 retribution. The legionaries posted to defend the valley were 
 trampled down and destroyed at the first charge. Troop 
 on troop, sent to extricate them, met with the same fate. 
 One of the few prisoners described the valley, when his 
 cohort reached its verge, as having the look of a living 
 whirlpool, a vast and tempestuous rolling and heaving of in- 
 furiate life, into which the attempt to descend was instant 
 destruction. 
 
 "Every cohort that entered it," said the centurion, "was 
 instantly engulfed and seen no more. Last night our legion, 
 the fifteenth, lay down in their tents five thousand strong ; to- 
 night there are not ten of us on the face of the earth." 
 
 The conflict was long, and the last of the enemy were under 
 the Jewish sword when I reached the mouth of the fissure. 
 But in the first intervals of the struggle, the remains of our 
 tortured people had been taken down from the accursed tree, 
 tended with solemn sorrow, and given up to their relatives 
 and friends to be borne back to Jerusalem. The crosses were 
 thrown into a heap and set on fire ; the fallen legionaries un- 
 derwent the last indignities that could be inflicted by scorn 
 
 499 
 
TZ&tvs ^bou xri[[ ir come 
 
 Saiatbfei and rage ; and -when even those grew weary, were flung into 
 Sums a CvMB . •. i i ■ -i 
 
 the blazing pile. 
 
 The fate of the noble Eleazar was still unknown, and to 
 obtain the certainty of his preservation or to render the last 
 honor to his remains, I forced my way toward the spot on 
 which I had seen him awaiting death. But my searches were 
 in Tain ; the witnesses on both sides were now where there is 
 no utterance. Guard, executioner, and victim were clay ; the 
 battle had raged chiefly round that spot, and the ground, 
 trampled and deep in blood, gave melancholy evidence of the 
 havoc. There were painful and peculiar signs of the sacrifice 
 that had extinguished the little group of the converts, and I 
 poured oil and wine upon their hallowed ashes. A large 
 fragment of a cross still stood erect in the midst of them. 
 
 "Was it upon thee, accursed thing," I exclaimed, "that the 
 life-blood of my brother was poured? Was it upon thee that 
 the last breath was breathed in torture from the Ups of virtue, 
 heroism, and purity? Never shalt thou minister again to the 
 cruelty of the monsters that raised thee there." 
 
 Indignantly I tore up the beam, and dragging it to the pUe 
 by my single strength — to the wonder of the crowd, who 
 eagerly offered their help, but whom I would not suffer to 
 share in this imaginary yet consoling retribution — I rolled it 
 into the flames amid shouts and rejoicings. 
 
 Daybreak was now at hand, and the sounds of the enemy's 
 movements made our retreat necessary. We heaped the last 
 Eoman corpse on the pile, covered it with the broken spears, 
 helmets, and cuirasses of the soldiery, and then left the care 
 of the conflagration to the wind. From the valley to Jeru- 
 salem our way was crowded with the enemy's postg; but the 
 keen eye and agile vigor of the Jew eluded or anticipated the 
 heaATjr-armed legionaries, by long experience taught to dread 
 the night in Judea, and we reached the Grand Gate of Zion 
 as the sun was shooting his first rays on the pinnacles of the 
 Temple. 
 
 In those strange and agitated days, when every hour pro- 
 duced some extraordinary scene, I remember none more ex- 
 traordinary than that morning's marching into the oily. It 
 
 500 
 
a /iBinstrera power of Spcecb 
 
 ■was a tritunph, but how unlike all that bore tbe name ! It Ube tkhiis 
 was no idle, popular pageant ; no fantastic and studied exhibi- 
 tion of trophies and treasures ; no gaudy homage to personal 
 ambition ; no holiday show to amuse the idleness or feed the 
 vanity of a capital secure in peace and pampered with the 
 habits of opulence and supremacy. It was at once a rejoi- 
 cing, a funeral, a great act of atonement, a popular preserva- 
 tion, and a proud revenge on the proudest of enemies. 
 
 On the night before, not an eye had closed in Jerusalem. 
 The Romans, quick to turn every change to advantage, had 
 suffered the advance of our irregular combatants only until 
 they could throw a force between them and the gates. The 
 assault was made, and with partial success ; but the popula- 
 tion, once roused, was terrible to an enemy fighting against 
 walls and ramparts, and the assailants were, after long 
 slaughter on both sides, drawn off at the sight of oui- columns 
 moving from the hills. 
 
 We thus marched in unassailed, a host of fifty thousand 
 men, as wild and strange-looking a host as ever trod to ac- 
 clamations from voices unnumbered. Every casement, roof, 
 battlement, and wall in the long range of magnificent mansions, 
 leading round by the foot of Zion to Mount Moriah, was 
 crowded with spectators. Man, woman, and child of every 
 rank were there straining their eyes and voices, and waving 
 hands, weapons, and banners in honor of their deliverers from 
 the terror of massacre. Our motley ranks had equipped them- 
 selves with the Eoman spoils wherever they could, and among 
 the ragged vestures, discolored turbans, and rude pikes, moved 
 masses of glittering mail, helmets, and gilded lances. Beside 
 the torn ilags of the tribes, embroidered standards were tossing 
 with the initial of the Csesars, or the golden image of some 
 deity, mutilated by our scorn of the idolater. 
 
 The Jewish trumpets had scarcely sent up their chorus, 
 when it was followed by the clanging of the Eoman cymbal, 
 the long and brilliant tone of the clarion, or the deep roar of 
 the brass conch and serpent. Close upon ranks exulting and 
 shouting victory came ranks bearing the honored dead on lit- 
 ters and bursting into bitter sorrow ; then rolled onward thou- 
 
 601 
 
Zaxx^ a:bou tCill H Come 
 
 Estber'a sands bouading and showing the weapons that they had torn 
 ' "^ from the enemy; then passed groups of the priesthood — ^for 
 they, too, had long taken the common share in the defense — 
 singing one of the glorious hymns of the Temple ; then again 
 followed litters, surrounded by the wives and children of the 
 dead, wrapt in inconsolable grief. Bands of warriors, who 
 had none to care for, the habitual sons of the field ; armed 
 women; chained captives; men covered with the stately 
 dresses of our higher ranks; biers heaped with corpses; 
 wagons piled with armor, tents, the wounded and the dead; 
 every diversity of human circumstance, person, and equipment 
 that belongs to a state in which the elements of society are let 
 loose — in that march successively moved before the eye. 
 With the men were mingled the captured horses of the legion- 
 aries ; the camels and dromedaries of the allies ; herds of the 
 bull and buffalo, droves of goats and sheep ; the whole one 
 mighty mass of misery, rejoicing nakedness, splendor, pride, 
 humUiation, furious and savage life, and honored and lamented 
 death ; the noblest patriotism and the most hideous abandon- 
 ment to the excesses of our nature. 
 
 As soon as I could extricate myself from the concourse, I 
 hastened to appease the anxieties of my family, who had suf- 
 fered the general terrors of the night, with the addition of 
 their own stake in my peril and that of Constantius. My 
 first inquiry was for Esther. To my great delight, she had 
 returned, but was still ia nervous alarm. On the night of 
 her being led through filial zeal to meet Septimius, she was 
 seized by a party of armed men and by them conveyed to a 
 dungeon, where questions had been put to her tending to 
 charge me at once with magic and correspondence with the 
 enemy. But this persecution ceased, and she found herself 
 as unexpectedly set at liberty as she had been seized. At the 
 gate of her prison the minstrel had met her, and through the 
 midst of the city, then in its fiercest agitation, had with sin- 
 gular dexterity conducted her safely home. 
 
 A service of this kind was not to go unrewarded, and he had 
 been suffered to remain under our roof until my return. But 
 by that time he had made his ground secure by such zealous 
 
 602 
 
21 ASinsttel's ipowec of Speecb 
 
 service and so many graceful qualities, that even Miriam, a «tti«tret'» 
 sensitive and sagacious as she was, desired that he should be '"''" ** 
 retained. 
 
 From his fcno-wledge of the various dialects of Asia and his 
 means of unsuspected intercourse, few events could occur of 
 which he had not obtained some previous knowledge. His 
 adroitness in availing himself of his knowledge I had already 
 experienced in my escape from the gates, and it was to him 
 that was due the flight of the negroes. A stray charger, a 
 mask, and the common juggler's contrivance of breathing 
 flames, made up the demon that defrauded the Ethiopian ex- 
 chequer. But his dexterity in the arts of elegance and taste 
 was singular; his pencil was dipped in nature, and the 
 si-etches, which he was perpetually making of the wild and 
 picturesque population that now filled our streets, were incom- 
 parable. He sculptured, he modeled, he wove ; he wrought 
 the gold filigree and chainwork, for which our artists were 
 famous, with a skill that the most famous of them have 
 envied. His knowledge of languages seemed the natural re- 
 sult of his wanderings, but it was extraordinarily various and 
 pure. The dance and song were part of his profession ; but 
 from the little imperfect harp in use among the minstrels he 
 drew tones that none other had ever delighted me with — 
 sounds of such alternate spirit and sweetness, such tender 
 and heart-reaching power, that they were like an immediate 
 communication of mind with mind. 
 
 And the charm of those acquirements was enhanced by the 
 graceful carelessness with which he made his estimate of their 
 value. To my questions how he could at his age have mas- 
 tered so many attainments, his reply was that with his three 
 teachers " everything might be learned ; common sense alone 
 excepted, the peculiar and rarest gift of Providence ! Those 
 three teachers were Necessity, Habit, and Time. At his start- 
 ing in life Necessity had told him that, if he hoped to live, 
 he must labor ; Habit had turned the labor into an indulgence ; 
 and Time gave every man an hour for everything unless he 
 chose to sleep it away." 
 
 But he had higher topics, and the sagacity of his views, ia 
 
 503 
 
iXarrs Sbou tlUl H Gome 
 
 constanHus' a crisis that was made to shake the wisdom of the wise, often 
 "" held me in astonishment. The fate of Constantius deeply 
 perplexed me. He had now been absent long, and no tidings 
 of him. could be heard among the returning warriors further 
 than that he had joined them in the march to the valley of 
 the Crosses, had distinguished himself by the intrepidity of 
 his attack on the legionary guard at the entrance, and was 
 seen for a short time with a captured standard in his hand 
 leading on the people. Unable to endure the silent anguish of 
 those round me, silent only through fear of giving me pain, I 
 had determined on passing the walls again to seek my brave 
 and unfortunate son among the fallen. But Miriam's quick 
 affection detected me, and with weeping prayers she implored 
 that " I should not risk a life on which hung her own and 
 those of her children," 
 
 The sound of the lyre came suddenly upon the air, and to 
 dissipate the cloud that was gathering on my mind, I wandered 
 to a balcony where, in the evening light and the pleasant 
 breathing of the breeze, the minstrel was touching the strings 
 to the song that had first attracted me. I flung my wearied 
 frame on a couch and listened until memory became too keen, 
 and I waved my hand to him to change the strain. He 
 obeyed, but his heart was in the harp no more ; his touch fal- 
 tered, the song died away, and he approached me with a 
 soothingness of voice and manner that none would have 
 desired to resist. 
 
 " My prince, " said he, " you are unhappy, and if your sor- 
 rows can be lightened by any service of mine, why not com- 
 mand me? " 
 
 He waited; but I was too much absorbed in gloomy specu- 
 lation. 
 
 "I can pass the gates," he timidly continued, "if such be 
 my lord's will." 
 
 I made a sign of dissent, for the enemy, since their late 
 surprise, had begun to urge the siege with increased vigi- 
 lance. Yet my anxiety for the fate of Constantius, and 
 scarcely less for that of Naomi and her lover, must have 
 been visible. 
 
 504 
 
a Minstrel's powet ot Speecb 
 
 He still lingered nigh, -watching the indications ■which in- SalatMel's 
 
 ■ward struggle so forcibly paints upon the external man. 
 
 "Prince of Naphtali," said he in a steadier tone, "among 
 my teachers I forgot to mention one, and that one the most 
 effective of all — Self-determination! not the mere disregard 
 of personal risk, but the intrepidity of the mind. I loved 
 kno^wledge, and I pursued it ■without fear. Nature is bound- 
 less, wise, and ■wonderful — but prejudice bars up the gate of 
 kno^wledge. The man -who "would learn must despise the ti- 
 midity that shrinks from "wisdom, as he must hate the tyranny 
 of opinion that condemns its pursuit. Wisdom is like beauty, 
 to be ■won only by the bold." 
 
 I looked up at the young pronouncer of the oracle. His 
 countenance, animated by the topic, -wore an expression of 
 po'wer, in ■which I should never have recognized the delicate 
 and dejected being that he al-ways appeared, except in some 
 moment of sportiveness, come and gone with the quickness of 
 lightning. 
 
 " Minstrel, apply this to our people or their bigoted and 
 ignorant leaders. I have no prejudices." 
 
 " All men have them, my prince, and the only distinction 
 is that in some they are mean, dark, and malignant ; in others 
 they are lofty, generous, and sensitive ; yet they are but the 
 stronger for their nobleness. The mind itself struggles to 
 throw off the ■vile and naked fetter. But how many forget 
 the incumbrance of the chain of gold in its preciousness ! " 
 
 He hesitated, and then, with a still more elevated air, again 
 began : 
 
 " You despise, for instance, the little ingenuities of our pro- 
 fession, and I o^wn that in general they deserve nothing else. 
 But if there were to come before you some true lover of 
 nature, a disciple of that sublimer philosophy which holds the 
 secrets of her operations, a master of those superb influences 
 which rule the frame of things, and yet more, guide the fates 
 of men and nations — would not your prejudices — and noble 
 ones they are— lead you to repel the offer of his mysteries? " 
 
 Thoughts tending to those mysteries had so often occurred 
 to me, and my mind was by its original constitution so fond of 
 
 605 
 
 f>ceiuMce8 
 
Q:arcs tibou XLUl H dome 
 
 cue nMn»trer» the abstruse and the wild, that I listened with interest to the 
 " romance of philosophy. The figure before me was not un- 
 suited to the illusion ; slight, habited in the fanciful dress of 
 his art, a tunic of purple cloth, bound round the waist with a 
 girdle ; the turban, a mere band of scarlet silk, lightly laid 
 upon his curls. There was in all this nothing that was not to 
 be seen at every hour in the streets, but round his waist, in- 
 stead of the usual girdle of the minstrels, he wore to-night a 
 large golden serpent, embossed and colored with a startling 
 resemblance to life, and a broad golden circlet wrought with 
 devices of serpents clasping his brow. The countenance was 
 vividness itself, not without that occasional wandering and 
 touch of melancholy that showed where early care has been, 
 yet redeeming the gloom by a smile that had the sweetness 
 and suddenness of the sunbeam across an April shower. 
 
 The evening music of the Eoman camps roused me as their 
 ranks were drawn out for the customary exercise. I turned 
 from them to glance upon the battlements, that were now 
 crowded with stragglers of the tribes inhaling the air of the 
 fields and like myself gazing on the movements of the enemy. 
 The thought pressed on me how soon and how terribly all this 
 must end ; what were the multitudes to be that now lived and 
 breathed beneath my glance? The thought was too painful. 
 I turned from earth to look upon the east, where the evening 
 star was lying on a rosy cloud, like a spirit sent to bring back 
 tidings from this troubled world. 
 
 "There, boy," said I, "will your wisdom tell me the story 
 of that star? Are its people as mad as we? Is there ambi- 
 tion on one side and folly on the other? Are their great men 
 the prey of a populace, and their populace the fools of their 
 great men? Have they orators to inflame their passions; 
 lawyers to beggar them in pursuit of justice ; traders, to cheat 
 them; heroes, to give them laurels at the price of blood; and 
 philosophers, to be the worst plagues among them? " 
 
 "Even that knowledge," said the minstrel, "may not be 
 beyond the flight of the human intellect ; but prejudices must 
 be first overcome ; we must learn to scorn idle names, defy 
 idle feai's, and use the powers of nature to give us the mas- 
 
 506 
 
U ^{n0tter0 power ot Speecb 
 
 tery of nature ! There are virtues in plants, in metals, even Ube iRutew 
 in words, that to seek, alarms the feeble, but to possess, con- ^^ 
 
 stitutes the mighty. There are influences of the air, of the 
 stars, of even the most neglected and despised thiugs, that 
 may be gifted to confer the sovereignty of mankind." 
 
 I listened with the passive indulgence of one listeniag 
 under a spell ; his voice had the sweetness and the flow of 
 song, and his language was made impressive by gestures of 
 striking intelligence and beauty. He pointed to the skies, to 
 the flowers, to the horizon, that glowed like an ocean of am- 
 ber ; and his fine countenance assumed a changing character 
 of loftiness, loveliness, or repose as he gazed on the sublime 
 or the serene. 
 
 "Boy," said I faintly, "are not such the studies by which 
 the pagan world is made evil? " 
 
 He smiled. "N"o! Light is not further from darkness 
 than wisdom from the superstition of the pagan. Eome is 
 filled with the madness that falls upon idolatry for its curse 
 — that has fallen since the beginning of the world — that shall 
 fall until its end. She is the slave of ghostly fear. This 
 hour, among the proudest, boldest, wisest, within the borders 
 of paganism, there lives not a man unenslaved by the lowest 
 delusion. The soothsayer, the interpreter of dreams, the 
 sacrificer, the seller of the dust of the dead, the miserable 
 pretender to magic — those are the true rulers of the haughty 
 empire — those are the scepter-bearers to whom the Emperor is 
 a menial — those are the men of might who laugh at authority, 
 set counsel at naught, and are sapping the foundations of the 
 state, were they deep as the center, by sapping the vigor of 
 the national mind." 
 
 While he spoke he was with apparent unconsciousness 
 sketching some outlines on one of the large marble slabs of 
 the wall. My eyes had followed the sun until the balcony, 
 darkened by an old vine, was in the depth of twilight. To 
 my surprise, the marble began to be covered with fire, but fire 
 of the softest and most silvery hue. The surprise was in- 
 creased by seeing this glowworm luster kindle into form. I 
 saw the portrait of Constantius, and by his side Naomi and 
 
 607 
 
Z&tvs XTbou ;riu ir come 
 
 Zbe fting of her lover. As the lines grew clearer still, I saw them in 
 
 ODetaiB 
 
 chains and in a dungeon! The extraordinary information 
 ■which the minstrel had the means of obtaining made me de- 
 mand in real alarm whether the picture told the truth, and 
 that if it did, I should be instantly acquainted with whatever 
 might enable me to save them. 
 
 " And trifles like those fires can excite your astonishment? " 
 he replied; "what if I were to tell you of wonders such as it. 
 has not entered into the mind of the world to imagine, yet 
 which are before us in every hour of our lives, are mingled 
 with everything, are grasped in our insensate hands, are trod- 
 den by our careless feet? See these crystals " — he scraped a 
 portion of the niter exuding from the wall — "in these is hid- 
 den a power to which the strength of man is but air — to which 
 the bulwarks round us are but as the leaf on the breeze — at 
 whose com in and armies shall vanish, mountains shake, em- 
 pires perish — the whole face of society shall change ; yet by a 
 sublime contradiction, combining the greatest evil with the 
 greatest good — the most lavish waste of life with the most 
 signal provision for human security ! '■' 
 
 " Look on this metal," said he, pointing to some of the 
 leaden ornaments of the balcony, "and think what is the 
 worth of human judgment. Who would give the pearl or the 
 diamond, the silver or the gold, for this discolored dross? 
 Yet here is the king of metals — the king of earth ; for it can 
 create, subdue, and rule all that earth produces of power. 
 Within this dross are treasures hidden, more than earth could 
 buy — truth, knowledge, and freedom. It can give the dead a 
 new life and the living a new immortality. It can sink the 
 haughtiest usurper that ever sioned against man into the low- 
 est scorn. It can raise the humblest son of obscurity into 
 preeminence, and even without breaking in upon the seclu- 
 sion that he loves, set him forth to every future age crowned 
 with involuntary glory. It can flash light upon the darkest 
 comers of the earth — light never to be extinguished. It can 
 civilize the barbarian ; it can pour perpetual increase of hap- 
 piness, strength, and liberty round the civilized. It can make 
 feet for itseK that walk through the dungeon walls ; wings 
 
 608 
 
T3 
 
 p 
 
B dibinetrers power of Speecb 
 
 that the uttermost limits of the world can not ■weary; eyes to UbeSupremae? 
 ■which the darkest concealments of evU. are naked as the day ; ° 
 intellect that darts through the universe and solves the 
 mightiest secrets of nature and of mind! But in it, too, is a 
 fearful power of ruin." 
 
 He gazed on me with a glance that seemed to shoot fire. 
 
 "Holding the keys of opulence and empire," he continued, 
 " it can raise men and nations to the most dazzling height — 
 but it can stain, delude, and madden them until they become 
 a worse than pestilence to human nature." 
 
 While he spoke, his form assumed a grandeur commensurate 
 with his lofty topics ; the power of his voice awoke with the 
 awaking power of his mind. My faculties succumbed under 
 his presence, and I could only exclaim : 
 
 " More of those wonders ; give me more of those noble evi- 
 dences of the supremacy of man ! " 
 
 "Man!" said my strange enlightener; "look upon him as 
 he is, and what more helpless thing moves under the canopy 
 of heaven? The prey of folly, the creature of accident, the 
 sport of nature, the surge whirls him where it will; the ■wind 
 scorns his bidding; the storm crushes him; the lightning 
 smites him. But look upon man when knowledge has touched 
 him with her scepter." 
 
 The circlet on his brow seemed to quiver and sparkle with 
 inward, luster; the golden serpent that clasped his robe 
 seemed to writhe and revolve. I felt like one under f asciaa- 
 tioh. A strange sense of danger thrilled through me, yet 
 mixed with a dreamy and luxurious sense of enjoyment. The 
 air seemed heavy ■with fragrance, and I sat listening in pow- 
 erless homage to a lip molded by beauty and disdain. 
 
 " Man, the sport of nature ! " said he, pointing to a bead of 
 dew that hung glittering on a leaf of the vine. " Say man, the 
 sovereign of nature ! With but so feeble an instrument as 
 this dew-drop he might control and scorn the wind and the 
 wave ! Or would you defy the storm in darkness, without sun 
 or star speed through the unkno'vni ocean, and add a new 
 world to the old? Within this fragment lies the secret." 
 
 He struck off a brown splinter from the stone of the balcony. 
 
 609 
 
Uarts tTbou tldl T Come 
 
 EI^e^-2»eB= " Or would you behold regions to ■wMcli tlie stars that now 
 
 »«rate— njone ^^aze above our heads are but the portal," he said; "kingdoms 
 
 of light never penetrated by mortal vision; generations of 
 
 worlds? By what splendid influence, think you, that the 
 
 miracle is to be wrought? Even by this dust ! " 
 
 He took up a few grains of the sand at his feet and poured 
 them into my robe. He saw his time. 
 
 "Would you," exclaimed he, "be master of those magnifi- 
 cent secrets? Then bind this girdle round you and invoke the 
 name that I sliall name." 
 
 I shuddered ; the arts of the diviner flashed upon me. But 
 I had listened too long not to be enfeebled by the temptation. 
 I felt the passion which lost us paradise — the thirst of for- 
 bidden knowledge. Still I resisted. The young deceiver 
 pressed me with more distinct promises. 
 
 "In your fate," said he, "the fate of your nation is bound 
 up. Has it not been declared that a great deliverer is to 
 come, by whom the face of the enemies of Judah is to be with- 
 ered, and the scepter of the earth given to the hand of 
 Israel? Pledge yourself to me and be that deliverer! You 
 shrink ! Know then — that even while I speak, every creature 
 of your blood is in chains ; your house is desolate ; your for- 
 tunes are overthrown; you are cut off root and branch; you 
 are exiled — desperate — undone I " 
 
 I felt a dreadful certainty that his words were true. My 
 heart bled at the picture of ruin. I wavered. The tempta- 
 tion tingled through my veins. 
 
 "What were the sacrifice of myself," thought I, "wretched 
 and sentenced as I was, to the preservation of beings made 
 for happiness? Or was I to hesitate, let the risk be what it 
 might, when virtue, patriotism, and boundless knowledge were 
 added to that preservation? For the trivial honors that man 
 could give to man, the highest intellects of the earth had been 
 influenced, but the honors of the restorer of Judah were an 
 immortal theme — the old splendors of triumph were pro- 
 nounced vain and dim, the old supremacy of thrones weak- 
 ness, to the domination and grandeur of the sovereign who 
 should sway the returning tribes of Ziou." 
 
 610 
 
21 ASfnstter0 power of Speccb 
 
 The figure approached me, and in a voice that sank with Subea /Bust 
 
 subtle force through every nerve pronounced the vow that I 
 was to utter. I was terror-struck; a cloud came over my 
 sight ; strange lights moved and glittered before me. I felt 
 the unspeakable dread that my faculties should betray me, 
 and that I should unconsciously yield to a temptation which 
 yet I had no strength to withstand. 
 
 While I sat helpless and almost bHnd, I was aroused by a 
 majestic voice. I looked up. Eleazar was at my side. I 
 would have flung myself into his arms ; I would have cast 
 myself at his feet, but an indescribable sensation told me that 
 my noble brother was to be so approached no more. 
 
 "Well and wisely hast thou resisted," were his solemn 
 words, "for in thee are the last fortunes of thy people. 
 Judea must fall ; but fallen with her as thou shalt be, and 
 desolate, despairing, and wild as shall be thy sojourn, the last 
 blow of ruin to both would be given hadst thou yielded to the 
 adversary." 
 
 I glanced at the minstrel. His visage was horror; he 
 stood deformed, like one dead in the moment of torture. I 
 closed my eyes against the hideous spectacle. A sound of 
 hurrying steps made me open them, after how long an interval 
 I know not. I was alone ! 
 
 fall 
 
 Rl 
 
CHAPTER LXIV 
 
 TJie ^stradion of Jemsaiem 
 
 Uo tbe ^to»«t The sounds of the footsteps increased. Overwhelmed as I 
 was by the trial that my mind had just undergone, I sat 
 nearly unconscious of external things till I was roused by a 
 strong grasp from behind and saw myself surrounded by 
 armed men. I was passively bound ; and indifferent to for- 
 tune, was flung into a litter and conveyed to the Tower of 
 Antonia. In this vast circle of fortifications, the citadel of 
 the former Boman garrison, the Jewish government was now 
 held, or rather Onias lorded it over the population. He had 
 discovered my dwelling, and the first fruit of his knowledge 
 was my seizure and that of my family. He was now playing 
 the last throw of that desperate game to which his life had 
 been given. Power was within his reach, yet there I stood to 
 thwart him. once more, and he was resolved to extinguish the 
 first source of his danger. Yet I was popular, and with all 
 his daring, he desired to cast the odium of my death on the 
 Sanhedrin. I was to be tried on the ground of treating with 
 the enemy ; my family were seized, to shake my courage by 
 their peril, and I was to be forced to an ignominious confes- 
 sion as the price of saving their lives. 
 
 At the mouth of a dungeon a torch was put into my hands. 
 I was left to make my way, and the iron door was closed that 
 had shut out many a wretch from light and life. At the bot- 
 tom of the steps I found a man sleeping tranquilly on the 
 stone. The glare of the torch disturbed him ; he started up, 
 and, lookiug in my face, exclaimed in the buoyant and cheer- 
 ful tone by which I should have recognized him under any 
 disguise : 
 
 "By Jupiter! I knew that we were to meet! If I had to 
 sleep to-night at the bottom of the sea, I should wager my 
 
 612 
 
Zbe Deetcuction or ^etuaalcm 
 
 simitar to a straw that our bodies would be found lying side Ube Captatn 
 by side. I presume we mount tbe scaffold together to-mor- oonBtan«u» 
 row for the benefit of Jewish morality. Well, then, since our 
 fates are to be joined, let us begin by — supping together." 
 
 It was the captain! He laid his store on the ground; but I 
 was heartsick, and could only question him of Naomi, and 
 the misfortune which had betrayed him into the hands of the 
 tyrant. 
 
 "Our history is the briefest in the world," was the answer; 
 " we found ourselves pursued, and we fled. The pursuers fol- 
 lowed faster than my fair mistress could run, or I could carry 
 her. So we were overtaken before we could clear the rocks, 
 and our captors were forthwith carrying us to the Boman 
 camp, in great joy at their prize. But it was intended to be 
 an unlucky day for the legions. We came across a Jewish 
 troop, headed by a fine, bold fellow, who dashed upon the 
 captors and fluttered them like a flight of pigeons. Nothing 
 could promise better than the affair, for my new captor turned 
 out to be an old friend, and one of the most gallant that ever 
 commanded a trireme. Many a day the Cypriot and I chased 
 (Nemesis forgive us for it!) the pirates through the Cyclades : 
 I, however, did not know then what pleasant personages the 
 brothers of the free-trade might be." 
 
 He smiled, and the sigh that followed the smile told how 
 little he had since found to compensate for his old adventures. 
 
 " A Cypriot. Your captor was my son, my Constantius ! " 
 I exclaimed. 
 
 "The very man. When he had found me out under my 
 Arab trappings, he was all hospitality, and invited me to 
 share the honors of his princely father's house. His troop 
 soon scattered every man to his home, and I was gazing at 
 the head of an incomparable knave and early acquaintance, 
 Jonathan, nailed up over the gate for some villainy which he 
 had not been as adroit as usual in turning to profit, when 
 Constantius, myself, and that lovely girl, whom I shall never 
 see more" — he bent his brows at the recollection — "were 
 seized by the guard, separated, and sent, I suppose, alike to 
 the dungeon." 
 
 33 513 
 
c:arcs Ubou trill f Come 
 
 ■BteEflspHan'e Shortly after midniglit I was brought before the tribunal, 
 paper* Qnias was my accuser, and I was astonished at the dexterity, 
 number, and plausibility of his charges — magic, treachery, the 
 betrayal of my army, the refusal to push the defeated enemy 
 to a surrender, lest by the cessation of the war my ambition 
 should be deprived of its object ; and last and most astonish- 
 ing, the assassination of my kinsman, Jubal, through fear of 
 his testimony! 
 
 I made my defense with the fearlessness of one weary of 
 life. Some of the charges I explained ; others I promptly re- 
 pelled. To the imputation of treachery I answered in a single 
 sentence. 
 
 " Eead that correspondence with the enemy and judge which 
 is the traitor. " 
 
 I took the Egyptian's papers from my sash and flung them 
 on the table. The aspect of my accuser at the words was one 
 that might have made his sternest hater pity him. He gasped, 
 he trembled, he gnashed his teeth in rage and terror, and 
 finally took refuge in the ranks of his followers. But the 
 judges themselves were in visible perplexity; they looked 
 over the papers, held them to the lamps, and examined them 
 in all imaginable ways, until the chief of the Sanhedrin rising, 
 with a frown that fixed all eyes on me, flung the papers at my 
 feet. The deepest silence was round me as I took up the re- 
 jected proofs. To my astonishment they were utterly blank ! 
 
 I now recollected that on my entrance I had been pressed 
 upon by the crowd. In that moment the false papers must 
 have been substituted. I saw the Egyptian gliding away 
 from the side of Onias, and saw by the countenance of my ac- 
 cuser that the tidings of the robbery had just reached him. 
 He now declaimed against me with renewed energy. He was 
 eloquent by nature ; the habit of public affairs had given his 
 speaking that character of practical vigor and reality which is 
 essential to great public impression ; his fortunes hung in the 
 scale — perhaps his life ; and he poured out the whole collected 
 impulse in a torrent of the boldest and most nervous declama- 
 tion upon my head. Still my name was high ; my rank was 
 not to be lightly assailed ; my national services were felt ; and 
 
 514 
 
Zbc Besttuctfon of Jerusalem 
 
 even the corrupt judicature summoned for my ruin were not ■cbe Secret of 
 so insensible to popular feeling as to violate the forms of law "** Stgnet 
 to crush me. The trial lasted during the night. I had the 
 misery to see my wife, my children, Constantius, Naomi, my 
 domestics, my f eUow warriors, every human being whom there 
 was a chance of perplexing, or terrifying into testimony, 
 brought forward against me. 
 
 As a last resource, on the secret suggestion of the Egyptian, 
 who had his own revenge to satisfy, the adventures of the 
 pirates' cavern were declaimed upon, and the captain was 
 summoned from his cell. His figure and noble physiognomy 
 made him conspicuous, and a general murmur of admiration 
 arose on his advance to the tribunal. Miriam was at my side. 
 I felt her tremble ; her color went and came, and she drank 
 in every tone of his voice with an intense anxiety. But when, 
 in answer to the questions of Onias, he detailed his story, and 
 in answer to the charge of his being an enemy denied that he 
 was either Eoman or Greek, Miriam's spirit hung upon every 
 word. 
 
 "A soldier's best pedigree," said he, concluding, "is his 
 sword. I know no more than that I was reared in the house 
 of a Cypriot noble, to whom I had been brought by a trader 
 of Alexandria. My protector made me a sailor, and would 
 have made me his heir, but Koman insolence disgusted me, 
 and I left my command, bearing with me no other inheritance 
 than a heart too proud for slavery, my simitar, and this signet, 
 which I have worn from my infancy." 
 
 He took from his bosom a large sculptured gem fastened 
 to a chain of pearls. Miriam put forth her trembling hand 
 for it, read with a starting eye her own name and mine, and 
 exclaiming, " My son ! my son ! " tottered forward and fell 
 fainting into his arms. 
 
 I flew to them both, and never did a wo-worn heart beat 
 with keener joy thaji when I, too, clasped my son, my long- 
 lost, my first-bom. Yet the cloud gathered instantly. Had 
 he not come to take the earliest embrace of his parents in the 
 crisis of their fate — the promise of an unbroken lineage, found 
 only in the day when my country was in the jaws of destruo- 
 
 615 
 
trarcs XTbou tTill f Gome 
 
 saiatbiei'g tion — the father awaking to those loveliest and happiest ties 
 ffareweii ^^ ^^^ nature only when the ax of the traitor or the sword 
 of the enemy was uplifted to cut them asunder forever — the 
 prince, the patriot, the warrior, summoned to the first exer- 
 cise of his noble rights and duties — when in the next hour a 
 heap of dust might be all that was left of his family and his 
 people ! 
 
 I clung to my son with a fondness thirsting to repay its 
 long arrear. His desertion in the hands of strangers ; the 
 early hardships ; the loss of a mother's love and a father's 
 protection; the insults and privations that the straggler 
 through the world must bear ; the desperate hazards of his 
 life ; even the errors into which necessity and circumstance 
 had driven him, rose up in judgment against me ; I reproached 
 myself even for the accident, perhaps the irresistible accident, 
 that gave my infant to the roaring waters. But the tears and 
 exclamations of the people round us recalled us. I might 
 then have walked from the hall without any man's daring to 
 lay a hand upon me, for the public feeling, touched by the 
 discovery of my son, was loud for my instant liberation. But 
 I was not to be satisfied with this imperfect justice, and I de- 
 manded that the tribunal should proceed. 
 
 The presence of. my f amUy was felt too strong for the fears 
 of my persecutor, and he demanded that they should retire. 
 An impression, like the warning of a superior spirit, instantly 
 told me that the parting was forever ! The same impression 
 was evidently on their minds, for their parting was like an 
 eternal farewell. The whole group at once gathered round 
 me. Constantius and Salome knelt before me for final for- 
 giveness. My son and his betrothed bowed their heads to ask 
 my blessing. Miriam and Esther came last, and silently 
 hung upon my neck, dissolved in tears of matchless anguish 
 and love. I lifted my eyes and heart to Heaven, and tho 
 oppressed with the terrible conviction of my own fate, put 
 forth my hands and blessed them in the name of the God of 
 Israel. I saw them pass away. My firmness could bear no 
 more ; I wept aloud. But with my sorrow there was given a 
 hope — a light across the gloom of my soul. When I saw 
 
 616 
 
Zbe destruction ot Jerusalem 
 
 their stately forms solemnly move along through the fierce " Sbeb mot 
 and guilty multitude, and the distant portal shut upon them, ^'oT" "* 
 I thought of the sons and daughters of the great patriarch 
 passing within the door of the ark from the midst of a con- 
 demned world. 
 
 The night wore on; the people, exhausted by the length of 
 a trial, protracted for the purpose, had left the hall nearly 
 empty; and Onias, now secure of a tribunal that dreaded 
 nothing but the public eye, urged the decision. The judges 
 were his creatures through corruption or fear ; his followers 
 alone remained. Sure to be crushed, the fluctuations of hope 
 were gone ; and I listened to the powerful and high-wrought 
 harangue of my enemy without a feeling but of admiration 
 for his extraordinary powers, or of pity for their perverter. 
 "While he stood, drinking in with ears and eyes the wonder 
 and homage of the audience, I myself called for sentence. 
 
 "Scorning," said I, "to reason with understandings that 
 will not comprehend, and consciences that can not feel, I ap- 
 peal from the man of blood to the God of mercies ; from the 
 worse than man of blood, from the corrupter of justice, to 
 Him who shall judge the judge ; to Him who shall yet pass 
 sentence on all in the sight of earth and heaven." 
 
 The chief of the tribunal rose ; my condemnation was upon 
 a lip quivering and pale ; he had already in his hand the bor- 
 der of the robe which he was to rend, in sign that the accused 
 was rent from Israel. 
 
 A confusion at the portal checked him, and the words re- 
 sounded : " Shed not the innocent blood ! " The voice was as 
 a voice from the sepulcher, melancholy, but searching to the 
 very heart. The guard gave way, and a man, covered from 
 head to foot with a sepulchral garment, rushed up the im- 
 mense hall. At the foot of the tribunal he flung off the gar- 
 ment, and disclosed a face and form that well might have 
 ranked him among the dwellers of the grave. 
 
 " I have come from the tombs, " exclaimed he ; "I had lain 
 down to die in the resting-place of my fathers, in the valley 
 of Jehoshaphat. A man in white raiment stood beside me 
 and commanded me to come and bear witness of the truth. 
 
 517 
 
^arts Q^bou tTill V Come 
 
 ®nfa» The Eomans were round me — he led me through them; the 
 
 tbe Bccuseb 
 
 battlements were before me — he led me through them ; riot, 
 fury, and frenzy stood in my path through your city — he led 
 me through them ; and lo ! here I come, and proclaim by his 
 command: 'Shed not the innocent blood.' " 
 
 Onias stood paralyzed. No memory of mine could recall 
 the haggard features of the stranger. The chief of the tri- 
 bunal in manifest confusion required his name. 
 
 "My name," he answered, with a wild wave of his hand, 
 "is nothing — air — is gone. What I was, is past; what I 
 shall be, the tomb alone must tell ; but what I am, is the wit- 
 ness, commissioned to proclaim Onias the betrayer of the 
 blood of your nobles, the slave of Rome, the traitor to his 
 country, the apostate to his religion." 
 
 AU hands were fted up in astonishment. Onias, sick at 
 heart, made a feeble gesture of denial. 
 
 " Dares the traitor deny his own handwriting? " was the in- 
 dignant reply. " Let him read his treason, committed within 
 these twelve hours." 
 
 He stalked over to the guilty Onias and held his letters to 
 the Eoman general before his shrinking eye. 
 
 While my eyes were fixed on the portal through which had 
 vanished my last hope of happiness, I was startled by an out- 
 cry, and I saw the gleam of steel at my throat. Onias, in de- 
 spair of smiting me by the arm of the law, had made a fren- 
 zied effort to destroy me by his own. Quick as lightning the 
 stranger threw himself between us and grasped the assassin ; 
 they struggled — they were involved in the large and loose 
 robe and fell together. I sprang forward to separate them. 
 But the deed was done. Onias lay rolling upon the ground; 
 the dagger was in the stranger's grasp, and it was crimson to 
 the hilt. I could feel no vindictiveness against the dying, 
 and I offered him my hand. He threw a violent expression 
 of scorn into his stiffening features, and cried at convulsive 
 intervals : 
 
 " No compassion — ^no hypocrisy for me — I die as I lived. 
 I hated you, for you thwarted me. — You have the best of the 
 game now ; but if I had lived till to-morrow, I should have 
 
 S18 
 
Xtbc Destruction of Jerusalem 
 
 been lord of Jerusalem. — ^The Eomans will settle all. — You TEbeiwtof 
 
 and yours would have been in my power. — You shall perish. 
 
 — That boy is your son ; he was brought to me in his infancy ; 
 
 I hated you as my rival ; and I swore that you should never 
 
 see your first-bom again. I sold him to the Alexandrian. — 
 
 You shall not live to triumph over me ; your dungeon shall be 
 
 your tomb; another night, and you sleep no more, or sleep 
 
 forever." 
 
 He gathered his mantle over his face and died. 
 
 His followers, after the first consternation, demanded 
 vengeance on the stranger. But it was now my time to pro- 
 tect him, and I declared that no man should strike him but 
 through me. 
 
 "This is noble and generous," interrupted he, "but useless. 
 I, too, am dying ; but I rejoice that I am dying by the wound 
 meant for you. Have I at last atoned? Have you forgotten? 
 Can you forgive? Then, prince of Naphtali, lay your hand 
 upon this heart, and while it beats believe that there you are 
 honored. Time has changed me ; misery has extinguished the 
 last trace of what I was. Farewell, my kinsman, friend, 
 chieftain — and remember — Jubal." 
 
 I caught him in my arms ; my heart melted at his suffer- 
 ings, his generous attachment, his heroic devotion, his deep 
 repentance. 
 
 " You have more than atoned, " I exclaimed ; " you are more 
 than forgiven. Live, my manly, kind, high-hearted Jubal; 
 live for the honor of your race — of your country — of human 
 nature." 
 
 He looked up with a smile of gratitude, and faintly utter- 
 ing, " I die happy," breathed in my arms the last breath of 
 one of the most gallant spirits that ever left the world. 
 
 Loud shouts abroad and blazes that colored the roof with 
 long columns of lurid light put an end to the deliberation of 
 the tribunal. The enemy were assaulting the citadel, and the 
 mockery of justice was summarily closed by returning me to 
 my dungeon, to await times fitter for the calmness of judicial 
 murder. 
 
 The assault continued for some hours ; but to my cell, sunk 
 
 fil9 
 
tiarts Ubou Hfll V dome 
 
 Cbe Bungeon'8 in the very foundations of the fortress, day never came ; and 
 *" I lay, still buried in darkness, when I heard sounds like the 
 blows of pickaxes, and from time to time the fall of heavy 
 bodies, followed by a roar. The air grew close, and chill aa 
 the dungeon had been, I experienced a sensation of heat still 
 more paiaful. The heat increased rapidly. I tried to avoid 
 it by shifting my place in the vault. But the evil was not to 
 be baffled — the air grew hotter and hotter. I flung myself on 
 the pavement to draw a cool breath from the stones ; they 
 began to glow under me. I ran to the door of the dungeon ; 
 it was iron, and the touch scorched me. I shouted, I tore at 
 the walls, at the massive rings in the floor, less perhaps from 
 the hope of thus escaping than from the vague eagerness to 
 deaden present pain by violent effort. But I tore up the 
 pavement and broke down the fragments of the walls ia vain. 
 The walls themselves began to split with the heat ; smoke 
 eddied through the crevices of the immense stones, and the 
 dungeon was filled with fiery vapor. My raiment encumbered 
 me ; I tore it away, and on the floor saw it fall in ashes. I 
 felt the agonies of suffocation ; and at last, helpless and hope- 
 less, threw myself down, like my raiment, to be consumed. 
 
 I had scarcely touched the stone when I felt it shake and 
 vibrate from side to side. A hollow noise like distant thunder 
 echoed through the vault ; the walls shook, collapsed, opened, 
 and I was plunged down a chasm, and continued rolling for 
 some moments in a whirl of stones, dust, earth, and smoke. 
 
 When it subsided, I found myself lying on the green sward, 
 in noonday, at the bottom of a valley, with the tower of An- 
 tonia covered with the legionaries, five hundred feet above 
 me. The remnants of huge fires round pillars of timber ex- 
 plained the mystery. The enemy had undermined the wall, 
 and by burning the props, had brought it down at the mo- 
 ment of the assault. Onias, the planner of the attack, for 
 which he was to be repaid with the procuratorship of Judea, 
 had placed me in the spot where ruin was to begin, and 
 cheered his dying moments with the certainty that, acquitted 
 or not, there I must be undone ! 
 
 I long lay confused and powerless beside my dungeon I 
 
 530 
 
^be Beettuction of Jerusalem 
 
 But the frwiliglit air revived me, and I crept tlirougli the de- i)reparatione 
 serted entrenchments of the enemy until I reached one of the 
 gates, where I announced my name, and was received with 
 rejoicings. The heart of my countrymen was heroic to the 
 last, and deeply was its heroism now demanded; for the 
 whole force of the enemy had been brought up for final as- 
 sault, and when I entered, every portion of the walls was the 
 scene of unexampled battle. Where the ground suffered the 
 approach of troops, the enemy's columns, headed by archers 
 and slingers innumerable, rushed to the rampart, climbing up 
 the breaches, with their shields covering their heads. Against 
 the towers were wheeled towers filled with troops, who de- 
 scended on the wall and fought us hand to hand. We felt 
 the continued blows of the battering-rams, shaking the battle- 
 ments under our feet. Where the ground repelled direct as- 
 sault, there the military machines poured havoc, and those 
 were the most dreaded of all. 
 
 The skill of man, exerted for ages on the arts of compen- 
 dious slaughter, has scarcely produced the equals of those 
 horrible engines. They threw masses of unextinguishable 
 fire, of boiling water, of burning oU, of red-hot flints, of 
 molten metal, from distances that precluded defense, and 
 with a force that nothing could resist. The catapult shot 
 stones of a hundred-weight from the distance of furlongs, 
 with the straightness of an arrow, and with an impulse that 
 ground everything in their way to powder. The fortitude 
 that scorned the Eoman spear, and exulted in the sight of thp 
 columns mounting the scaling-ladders, as mounting to sure 
 destruction, quailed before the tremendous power of the cata- 
 pult. The singular and ominous cry of the watchers, who 
 gave notice of its discharge, "The son cometh," was a sound 
 that prostrated every man upon his face, until the crash of 
 the walls told that the blow was given. 
 
 Every thought that I had now for earth was iu the tower of 
 Antonia ! But there the legions rendered approach impossible, 
 and I could only gaze from a distance and see, in the bitter- 
 ness of my soul, the enemy gradually forcing their way from 
 rampart to rampart. It was in vain that I strove to collect a 
 
 621 
 
Zntve ^bou G^fll H Come 
 
 •Too to tbe few who woTild join me in a desperate attempt to succor its 
 *^' defenders. I was left alone, and sitting on the battlements, 
 I took the chance of some friendly spear or stone. 
 
 Through all the roar I heard the voice of Sabat, the Ishmael- 
 ite: the eternal "Wo! — wo! — wo!" loud as ever, and in 
 appalling unison with the hour. He now came rushing along 
 the wall with the same rapid and vigorous stride as of old, 
 but his betrothed no longer followed him. She was borne in 
 his arms ! The stones from the engines thundered against the 
 wall; they tore up the strong buttresses like weeds; they 
 struck away whole ranks of men, and whirled their remnants 
 through the air. They leveled towers and swept battlements 
 away with their defenders at a blow. But Sabat moved un- 
 shrinking on his wild mission. His cry now was terrible 
 prophecy. 
 
 " A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from 
 the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem and the holy house, 
 a voice against the bridegroom and the bride, a voice against 
 this whole people." 
 
 He stopped before me, and pointing to the face of his bride, 
 said with a sudden faltering and tears : " She is gone ; she is 
 dead. She died last night. I promised to die too. She fol- 
 lows me no more. It is I that must follow her." 
 
 Death was in his face, and my only wonder was that a 
 form so utterly reduced could live and move. I offered him 
 some provision from the basket of a dead soldier at my feet. 
 For the first time he took it, thanked me, and ate. Not less 
 to my surprise, he continued gazing round him on the move- 
 ments of the enemy, on the temple, the tower of Antonia, 
 and the hills. But his station was eminently perilous, and I 
 pointed out one of the military engines taking its position to 
 play upon the spot where we were. He refused to stir. 
 
 "The look may be long," said he, "when a man looks his 
 last." 
 
 I heard the roar of the engine, and leaped from the ram- 
 part to escape the discharge. Sabat stood, and again began 
 his cry: "Wo to the city, and to the holy house, and to the 
 people I " The discharge tore up a large portion of the battle- 
 
Sbe Destruction of ^etuealem 
 
 ment. Sabat never moved limb or feature. The wall was cut ttbc conflict of 
 away on his right and left, as if it had been cut with an ax. ^"tb*"* 
 He stood calmly on the projecting fragment with his lips to 
 the lips of his bride. . I saw the engine leveled again, and 
 again called to him to escape. He gave me no answer but a 
 melancholy smile ; and crying out, with a voice that filled the 
 air: "Wo to myself! " stood. I heard the rush of the stone. 
 It smote Sabat and his bride into atoms ! " 
 
 The fall of our illustrious and unhappy city -was super- 
 natural. The destruction of the conquered was against the 
 first priDiciples of Roman polity, and to the last hour of our 
 national existence, Rome held out offers of peace, and la- 
 mented our frantic determination to be undone. But the de- 
 cree was gone forth from a mightier throne. During the lat- 
 ter days of the siege, a hostility to which that of man was as 
 the grain of sand to the tempest that drives it on, overpow- 
 ered our strength and senses. 
 
 Fearful shapes and voices in the air ; visions startling us 
 from our short and troubled sleep ; lunacy in its most hideous 
 forms ; sudden death in the midst of vigor ; the fury ©f the 
 elements let loose upon our unsheltered heads ; we had every 
 terror and evil that could beset human nature, but pestilence ; 
 the most probable of all in a city crowded with the famish- 
 ing, the diseased, the wounded, and the dead. Yet, tho 
 the streets were covered with the unburied, tho every wall 
 and trench was streaming with gore, tho six hundi'ed thou- 
 sand corpses lay flung over the rampart, naked to the sun 
 — pestilence came not ; for if it had come, the enemy would 
 have been scared away. But the " abomination of desolation, " 
 the pagan standard, was fixed, where it was to remain until 
 the plow passed over the ruins of Jerusalem ! 
 
 On one night, that fatal night! no man laid his head upon 
 his pillow. Heaven and earth were in conflict. Meteors 
 burned above us ; the ground shook under our feet ; the vol- 
 cano blazed ; the wind burst forth in irresistible blasts, and 
 swept the living and the dead in whirlwiads, far into the 
 desert. We heard the bellowing of the distant Mediterranean, 
 as if its waters were at our side, swelled by a new deluge. 
 
tTarrs XTbou XTfll ff Come 
 
 ttbe uaat sign The lakes and rivers roared and inundated the land. The 
 fiery sword shot out tenfold fire. Showers of blood fell. 
 Thunder pealed from every quarter of the heaven. Light- 
 ning, in immense sheets, of an intensity and duration that 
 turned the darkness into more than day, withering eye and 
 soul, burned from the zenith to the ground, and marked its 
 track by forests on flame, and the shattered summits of the 
 hnis. 
 
 Defense was not thought of, for the mortal hostility had 
 passed from the mind. Our hearts quaked for fear, but it 
 was to see the powers of heaven shaken. All cast away the 
 shield and the spear, and crouched before the descending judg- 
 ment. We were conscience-smitten. Our cries of remorse, 
 anguish, and horror were heard through the uproar of the 
 storm. We howled to the caverns to hide us ; we plunged 
 into the sepulchers to escape the wrath that consumed the 
 living ; we would have buried ourselves under the mountains ! 
 I knew the cause, the unspeakable cause, and knew that the 
 last hour of crime was at hand. A few fugitives, astonished 
 to see one man among them not sunk into the lowest feeble- 
 ness of fear, came round me, and besought me to lead them 
 to some place of safety, if such were now to be found on 
 earth. I told them openly that they were to die, and coun- 
 seled them to die in the hallowed ground of the Temple. 
 They followed me through streets encumbered with every 
 shape of human suffering, to the foot of Mount Moriah. But 
 beyond that, we found advance impossible. Piles of cloud, 
 whose darkness was palpable, even in the midnight in which 
 we stood, covered the holy hill. Still, not to be daunted by 
 anything that man could overcome, I cheered my disheartened 
 band, and attempted to lead the way up the ascent. But I 
 had scarcely entered the cloud when I was swept downward 
 by a gust that tore the rocks in a flinty shower round me. 
 
 Now came the last and most wondrous sign that marked the 
 fate of Israel. While I lay helpless, I heard the whirlwind 
 roar through the cloudy hill, and the vapors began to revolve. 
 A pale light, like that of the rising moon, quivered on their 
 edges, and the clouds rose and rapidly shaped themselves into 
 
 624 
 
tibe Destruction ot Jerusalem 
 
 the forms of battlements and towers. The sound of voices "lettua* 
 
 was heard within, low and distant, yet straagely sweet. The '"" 
 
 luster brightened, and the airy building rose, tower on tower, 
 
 and battlement on battlement. In awe that held us mute, we 
 
 knelt and gazed upon this more than mortal architecture, 
 
 which continued rising and spreading, and glowing with a 
 
 serener light, still soft and silvery, yet to which the broadest 
 
 moonbeam was dim. At last it stood forth to earth and 
 
 heaven, the colossal image of the first Temple, the building 
 
 raised by the wisest of men, and consecrated by the visible 
 
 glory. 
 
 All Jerusalem saw the image, and the shout that, in the 
 midst of their despair, ascended from its thousands and tens 
 of thousands, told what proud remembrances were there. 
 But a hymn was heard that might have hushed the world. 
 Never fell on my ear, never on the human sense, a sound so 
 majestic, yet so subduing; so full of melancholy, yet of 
 grandeur. The cloudy portal opened, and from it marched a 
 host such as man had never seen before, such as man shall 
 never see but once again; the guardian angels of the city of 
 David! — they came forth glorious, but with wo in all their 
 steps; the stars upon their helmets dim; their robes stained; 
 tears flowing down their celestial beauty., 
 
 "Let us go hence," was their song of sorrow; "Let us go 
 hence," was answered by the sad echoes of the mountains. 
 "Let us go hence," swelled upon the night to the farthest 
 limits of the land. The procession lingered long on the sum- 
 mit of the hill. Then, the thimder pealed ; and they rose at 
 the command, diffusing waves of light over the expanse of 
 heaven. Their chorus was heard, still magnificent and melan- 
 choly, when their splendor was diminished to the brightness 
 of a star. The thunder roared again ; the cloudy temple was 
 scattered on the wiads ; and darkness, the omen of her grave, 
 settled upon Jerusalem ! 
 
 I was roused from my consternation by the voice of a 
 man. 
 
 "What!" said he, "sitting here, when all the world is 
 stirring? Poring over the faces of dead men, when you 
 
 635 
 
tracts G:bou zm f Come 
 
 E oiance should be the foremost among the living? All Jerusalem in 
 ""uempu* arms, and yet you scorn your time to gain laurels? " 
 
 The haughty and sarcastic tone was familiar to my recol- 
 lection ; but to see, as I did, a E.oman soldier withia a few 
 feet of me was enough to make me spring up, and draw my 
 simitar, careless of consequences. 
 
 "Tou ought to know me," said he, without moving a 
 muscle; "for tho it is some years since we met, we have 
 not been often asunder. And so here you have been sitting 
 these twelve hours among corpses, to no better purpose than 
 losing your time and your memory together ! " 
 
 I looked round ; the sun was in his meridian. The little 
 band that I had led to the foot of the mountain were lying 
 dead, to a man. 
 
 "Are you not a Eoman? " I exclaimed. 
 
 " No ; but I conclude that nearly as much absurdity and 
 mischief may be committed under these trappings as under 
 any other, and therefore I wear them. But you may exchange 
 with me if you like. This cuirass and falchion wiU help you 
 to money, riot, violence, and vice — and what more do nine- 
 tenths of mankind ask for in their souls? Take my offer and 
 you will be on the winning side ; another thing that men like. 
 But be expeditious, for before this sun dips his forehead in 
 the Asphaltites, the bloodshed and robbery will be over." 
 
 His laugh, as he uttered the words, was bitterness itself, 
 and I felt my flesh instinctively shudder. But a glance 
 toward the Temple told me that the words were true. The 
 legions had forced their way to the foot of the third and 
 weakest rampart, which I now saw flying in pieces under the 
 blows of the battering-rams. They must have marched by the 
 very spot where I had sat since midnight, and I probably 
 escaped only by being taken for one of the dead. I wrung 
 my hands in agony. He burst into a wild roar of derision. 
 
 " What fools you lords of the creation are ! What is the 
 loss of life to the naked wretches that you see nmning about 
 like frightened children on those battlements, or to the 
 clothed wretches that you see ready to massacre them, for the 
 honor and glory of a better-clothed wretch? — a dinner too 
 
 626 
 
tibe Beatcuctfon of Jerusalem 
 
 much will revenge them on the Emperor of the eaith. The saratMet 
 spear or the arrow comes, and quick as thought their troubles jspf^la 
 are at an end. Man ! — the true misery is to live, to be con- 
 strained to live, to feel the wants, wearinesses, and weaknesses 
 of life, yet to drag on existence; to be what I am." 
 
 He tore the helmet from his forehead, and, with a groan of 
 agony, flung it to a measureless distance in the air. In amaze 
 and terror I beheld Epiphanes ! The same Greek countenance, 
 the same kingly presence, the same strength and heroic stat- 
 ure, and the same despair, were before me that, in the early 
 years of my wo, I had seen on the shores of the Dead Sea. 
 
 "I told you," said he, with a sudden return to calmness, 
 "that this day would come; and to tell you so required no 
 spirit of prophecy. There is a time for all things, long-suf- 
 fering among the rest ; and your countrymen had long ago 
 come to that time. But one grand hope was still to be given ; 
 they cast it from them ! Ages on ages shall pass before they 
 learn the loftiness of that hope or fulfil the punishment of 
 that rejection. Yet, in the fulness of time, shall the light 
 break; in upon their darkness. They shall ask, Why are we 
 the despised, the branded., the trampled, the abjured, of all 
 nations? Why are the barbarian and the civilized alike our 
 oppressors? Why do contending faiths join in crushing us 
 alone? Why do realms, distant as the ends of the earth, and 
 diverse as day and night — alike those who have heard our 
 history, and those who have never heard of us but as the sad 
 sojourners of the earth — unite in one cry of scorn? And what 
 is the universal voice of nature but the voice of the King of 
 nature? " 
 
 I listened in reverence to language that pierced my heart 
 with an intense power of truth, yet with a pang that made me 
 writhe. I longed, yet dreaded, to hear again the searching 
 and lofty accents of this being of imwilling wisdom. 
 
 "Man of terrible knowledge," said I, "canst thou tell for 
 what crime this judgment shall come? " 
 
 Awe was written upon his mighty brow, and his features 
 quivered as he slowly spoke. 
 
 "Their crime? There is no name for it. The spirits of 
 
 537 
 
tiacrs ^bou ITtll H Come 
 
 Ube tteat of heaven 'weep ■when they think of it. The spirits of the abyss 
 Bstault tremble. Man alone, the man of Judea alone, could commit 
 that horror of horrors." 
 
 He paused and prostrated himself at the -words ; then rising, 
 rapidly uttered: "Judge of the crime by its punishment. 
 From the beginning, Israel "was stubborn, and his stubbornness 
 brought him to sorrow. He rebelled, and he was warned by 
 the captivity of a monarch or the slaughter of a tribe. He 
 sinned more deeply, for he was the slave of impurity ; then 
 was his kingdom divided ; yet a few years saw him powerful 
 once more. He sinned more deeply still, for he sought the 
 worship of idols. Then came his deeper punishment, in the 
 fall of his throne and the long captivity of his people. But 
 even Babylon sent back the forgiven. 
 
 " Happy, I say to you, happy will be the hour for Israel 
 — for mankind, for creation — when he shall take into his 
 hand the records of his fathers, and, in tears, ask. What is 
 that greater crime than rebellion? than blasphemy? than im- 
 purity? than idolatry? which, not seventy years, nor a thou- 
 sand years, of sorrow have seen forgiven; which has pro- 
 longed his wo into the old age of the world — which threatens 
 him with a chain not to be broken but by the thunder-stroke 
 that breaks up the universe ! " 
 
 "And still," said I, trembling before the living oracle, — 
 "still is there hope? " 
 
 "Look to that mountain," was the answer, as he pointed to 
 Moriah. Its side, covered with the legions advancing to the 
 assault, shone in the sun like a tide of burning brass. " It 
 ' is now a sight of splendid evil ! " exclaimed he. " But upon 
 that mountain shall yet be enthroned a Sovereign before 
 whom the sun shall hide his head, and at the lifting of whose 
 scepter the heaven and the heaven of heavens shall bow down ! 
 To that mountain shall man, and more than man, crowd for 
 f. wisdom and happiness. From that mountain shall light flow 
 
 to the ends of the universe, and the government shall be the 
 Everlasting ! " 
 
 The roar of the assault began, and my awful companion 
 was 'Recalled to the world. 
 
 528 
 
trbe Deettuction of ^etusalem 
 
 "I must see the end of this battle," said he, in his oldtn jtontoftfc* 
 mixture of sarcasm and melancholy; "man's natural talent **"'*"**' 
 for making himself miserable may go far, but he is still the 
 better for a teacher. On the top of that hill there are twenty 
 thousand men panting for each other's blood like tigers; and 
 yet without me they would leave the grand business undone, 
 after all." 
 
 "But one word more," I cried, giving my last look to the 
 tower of Antonia, on which the eagles now glittered. 
 
 He anticipated me. 
 
 " All are safe — they are in the hands of Septimius, who will 
 deal with them in honor. He solicited the command, that he 
 might provide for their security. They comfort themselves 
 with the hope that you will return. But return you never 
 win. They will be happy in the hope — until sorrow is too 
 long shut out to find room when it comes ; they love you, and 
 will love you long, but there is an end of all things. And 
 now, farewell ! " 
 
 "And now, onward>" said I. "But every spot is crowded 
 with the Eoman columns. How am I to pass those spears?" 
 
 He laughed wildly, flung his arm round me, as of old, and 
 ran, with the speed of a stag, round the foot of the hill to an 
 unobstructed side. The ascent was nearly perpendicular ; but 
 he bounded up the crags without drawing a breath, placed me 
 on a battlement, and was gono ! 
 
 Below me war raged in its boundless fury. The enemy had 
 forced their way, and the exasperated Jews, contemptuous of 
 life, fought them with the rage of wild beasts. When the 
 lance was broken, the knife was the weapon ; when the knife 
 failed, they tore with their hands and teeth. Masses of 
 stone, torches, even dead bodies, everything that could min- 
 ister to destruction, were hurled from the roofs on the assail- 
 ants, who were often repulsed with deadly havoc. But they 
 still made way ; the courts of the Gentiles, of the Israelites, 
 and of the priests were successively stormed ; and the legions 
 at length established themselves in front of the Sanctuary. 
 A howl of wrath, at the possible profanation of the Holy of 
 Holies, rose from the multitude. I rushed from the battle- 
 
 34 599 
 
XCartg XTbou G:ill f Come 
 
 Vbeffiatftof ment, and showing myself to the people, demanded "who 
 
 IRuin 
 
 would follow me? " The crowd exulted at the sight of their 
 well-known chieftain ; and in the impulse of the moment we 
 poured on the enemy, and drove them from the court of the 
 Sanctuary. Startled by the sudden reverse, the Eoman gen- 
 erals renewed their proposal for a surrender, and Titus him- 
 self, at the most imminent hazard, forced his way to the 
 portal, and besought me to surrender and save the Temple. 
 
 But Jerusalem was marked for ruin. While I was in the 
 very act of checking the shower of spears, I heard the voice 
 of one of those extraordinary beings who, by mad predictions 
 of the certain succor of Heaven, kept up the resistance while 
 there was a man to be slaughtered. He was standing on the 
 roof of a vast cloister, surrounded by a crowd of unfortunate 
 men, whom his false prophecies were infuriating against the 
 ofEer of life. I recognized the impostor, or the demon, by 
 whom the Roman mission had been destroyed. The legion- 
 aries pointed in vain to the flames already rising round the 
 cloisters. The predictions grew bolder still, and the words of 
 truth were answered by showers of missiles. The flames sud- 
 denly burst out through the roof, and the whole of its de- 
 fenders, to the number of thousands, sank into the conflagra- 
 tion. When I looked round after the shock, this fearful 
 being, without a touch of fire on his raiment, was haranguing 
 in a distant quarter, and whether man or fiend, urging the 
 multitude to their fate ! 
 
 This was the day of days, the ninth day of the month Ab, 
 the anniversary of the burning of the Temple by the king of 
 Babylon. One thousand one hundred and thirty years, seven 
 months, and fifteen days were past, from its foundation by 
 our great King Solomon ! My attack had repelled the legion- 
 aries, and Titus, exhausted and dispirited, began to withdraw 
 the routed columns from the front of the Temple. It was the 
 fifth hour ; the sun was scorching up their strength, and I 
 looked proudly forward to victory and the preservation of the 
 Temple! 
 
 As I was standing on the portal of the court of the Sanc- 
 tuary, and gazing at the rout of the troops toward the tower 
 
 530 
 
Uhe S>e6tructton of Jerusalem 
 
 of Antonia, I heard a voice close to my ear: "I told you that Ube jsnems- 
 this day would end in nothing without me." I turned, but he "'* 
 was already far away among the crowd ; and before I could 
 even speak, I saw him, torch in hand, bound into the Golden 
 window, beside the veil of the Holy Place. The inner Tem- 
 ple was instantly in a blaze. Our cries and the sight of the 
 flames brought back the enemy at full speed. I saw that 
 the fatal hour was come, and collecting a few brave men, 
 took my post before the veil, to guard the entrance with 
 my blood. 
 
 But the legions rushed onward, crying out that "they were 
 led by the Fates, " and that " the God of the Jews had given 
 His people and city into their hands." The torrent was irre- 
 sistible. Titus rushed in at its head, exclaiming, that "the 
 Divinity alone could have given the stronghold into his power, 
 for it was beyond the hope and strength of man." My de- 
 voted companions were torn down in an instant. I was forced 
 back to the veil of the Holy of Holies, fighting at random in 
 the midst of the legionaries, who now saw no enemies but 
 each other. In the fury of plunder they deluged the Portico 
 and the Sanctuary with blood. 
 
 The golden table of Pompey, the golden vine, the trophies 
 of Herod, were iastantly torn away. Subordination was lost. 
 The troops trampled upon their of&cers. Titus himself was 
 saved only by cutting his way through those madmen. But I 
 longed to die, and give my last breath and the last drop of my 
 veins to the seat of Sanctity and Glory. I fought — I taunted 
 — I heaped loud scorn on the profaners — I was covered from 
 head to foot with gore ; but it was from the hearts of Eomans 
 — I toiled for death ; but I remained without a wound. Yet, 
 wo to the life that came within the sweep of my shnitar. 
 The last blow that I struck was at an impious hand, put forth 
 to grasp the veil that shut the Holy of Holies from the human 
 gaze. The hand flew from the body, and the spoiler fell 
 groaning at my feet. He sent up an expiring look, and I 
 knew the countenance of my persecutor, Cestius ! 
 
 But a new enemy had come, conqueror alike of the victor 
 and the vanquished — fire." I heard its roar round the sanc- 
 
 531 
 
Catrg Ubou ttill IF Come 
 
 Ube iRufn of tuary. The Eomans, appalled, fled to the portal ; but they 
 tbeuempu ^^^^ doomed. A wall of fire stood before them. They 
 rushed back, tore down the veil, and the Holy of Holies 
 stood open. The blaze melted the plates of the roof in a 
 golden shower above me. It calcined the marble floor; it 
 dissipated in vapor the inestimable gems that studded the 
 walls. All who entered lay turned to ashes. So perish the 
 prof aners ! But on the sacred Ark the flame had no power. 
 It whirled and swept in a red orb round the untouched symbol 
 of the throne of thrones. Still I lived, but I felt my strength 
 giving way : the heat withered my sinews — the flame extin- 
 guished my sight. 
 
 Bleeding, blind, frantic, I stUl fought until I sank under a 
 heap of dead. In defiance of all prediction, I now believed 
 my death inevitable. At once I heard the shouts of the con- 
 querors and the fall of the pillars of the Temple. I wel- 
 comed the living grave ! In all the wildness of the uproar I 
 heard the voice : " Tarry thou till i come ! " The world 
 disappeared from before me ! 
 
 Here I pause. I had undergone that portion of my unhap- 
 py career which was to be passed among my people. My life 
 as father, husband, and citizen was at an end. Thenceforth I 
 was to be a solitary being. 
 
 My fate had yet scarcely fallen upon me, but I was now to 
 feel it in the disruption of every gentler tie that held me to 
 life. I was to make my couch with the savage, the outcast, 
 and the slave. I was to see the ruin of the mighty and the 
 overthrow of empires. Yet in the tumult that changed thei 
 face of the world, I was still to live and be unchanged. 
 Every sterner passion that disturbs our nature was to reign in 
 successive tyranny over my soul. And fearfully was the de- 
 cree fulfilled. 
 
 In revenge for the fall of Jerusalem, T traversed the globe 
 to seek out an enemy of Rome. I found in the northern 
 snows a man of blood ; I stirred up the soul of Alaric and led 
 him to the rock of Rome. In revenge for the insults heaped 
 
 632 
 
L 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by Funk & Wagnajls Company, N. Y. and London. 
 
 I heard the shouts of the conquerors, and the fall of the pillars 
 
 See page 532. 
 
^be Destruction ot Jerusalem 
 
 on the Jew by the dotards and dastards of the city of Con- saiatUei 
 stantine, I sought out an instrument of compendious ruin: I ^TOimiwet 
 found him in the Arabian sands, and poured ambition into the 
 so\il of the enthusiast of Mecca. In revenge for the pollu- 
 tion of the ruins of the Temple, I roused the iron tribes of 
 the West, and at the head of the crusaders expelled the Sara- 
 cens. I fed full on the revenge, and I felt the misery of re- 
 venge ! 
 
 A passion for the mysteries of nature seized me. I toiled 
 with the alchemist ; I wore away years in perplexities of the 
 schoolmen; and I felt the guilt and emptiness of unlawful 
 knowledge. 
 
 A passion for human fame seized me. I drew my sword in 
 the Italian wars — triumphed — was a monarch — and learned 
 to curse the hour when I first dreamed of fame ! 
 
 A passion for gold seized me. I felt the gnawing of avarice 
 — the last infirmity of the fallen mind. Wealth came, to my 
 wish and to my torment. In the midst of royal treasures I 
 was poorer than the poorest. Days and nights of misery were 
 the gift of avarice. I felt within me the undying worm. 
 In my passion I longed for regions where the hand of man 
 had never rifled the mine. I found a bold Genoese, and led 
 him to the discovery of a new world. With its metals I in- 
 undated the old, and to my own misery added the misery of 
 two hemispheres ! 
 
 But the circle of the passions, a circle of fire, was not to 
 surround my fated steps forever. Calmer and nobler aspira- 
 tions were to rise in my melancholy heart. I saw the birth of 
 true science, true liberty, and true wisdom. I lived with 
 Petrarch, among his glorious relics of the genius of Greece 
 and Rome. I stood enraptured beside the easel of Angelo and 
 Eaphael. I conversed with the merchant kings of the Medi- 
 terranean. I stood at Mentz beside the wonder-working 
 machine that makes knowledge imperishable and sends it with 
 winged speed through the earth. At the pulpit of the mighty 
 man of Wittenberg I knelt; Israelite as I was, and am, I 
 did voluntary homage to the mind of Luther ! 
 
 But I must close these thoughts, as wandering as the steps 
 
 633 
 
Uarcs trbou Zitt T Come 
 
 Cbe future of my pilgrimage. I have more to tell — strange, magnificent, 
 and sad. 
 
 But I must wait the impulse of my heart. Or, can the 
 happy and the high-bom, treading upon roses, have an ear 
 for tiie story of the Exile, whose path has for a thousand 
 years been in the brier and the thorn! 
 
 FlNIB 
 
 634 
 
APPENDIX 
 
ANNOTATIONS 
 
 1— page 3. The legend ot tbe Wandering Jew Oist appeared In the thirteenth cen- 
 tury, in the chronicle of Matthew of Paris, who professes to have received Ills informa- 
 tion from an Armenian bishop to whom the hero had himself communicated the erenlB. 
 According to this version, he was a servant in the house of Pilate, named Gartaphllus, 
 and gave Christ a blow as He was dragged out of the palace to execution. Another and 
 perhaps more familiar version, probably of the fifteenth century and of German origin, 
 states that he was a shoemaker named Ahasuerus. As Jesus bore His cross along tbe 
 via dolorosa, staggering with pain and weakness. He leaned for a moment against 
 the doorway of the rude shopkeeper, who, with cursing and bitterness, ordered him to 
 "goon." The sufferer looked upon him and said : " I go, but tarry thou till I come ! " 
 From that awful moment he found life a burden and death an impossibility. From time 
 to time he was able to rejoice in gray hairs and a stooping form, but regularly these 
 indications of the end would vanish, and clothed again In the form of youth, he felt the 
 look and heard in his soul the dread voice bidding him wander on and on forever. All 
 versions agree touching the verdict of Christ, that he should wander on earth till the 
 Second Coming. 
 
 In its deepest import, " the tradition is simply a wonderful picture of a people— a 
 people forever suffering and yet undying ; forever doomed to wander ; without a home 
 or any fixed abiding-place ; safe nowhere, and yet Immortal ; trampled and beaten ; 
 robbed and persecuted, and yet, strangely, living and flourishing in spite of all. The 
 most vigorous, virile, and healthful people under the sun ; the bravest and most endur- 
 ing in battle or siege ; the most patriotic and loyal of all peoples, they stedfastly, 
 through all their wanderings and sorrows, ding to a land which is but a memory or 
 a dream." 
 
 In this story. Dr. Croly adds to the typical traditions, peculiar features of his own. 
 Having such a hold on popular imagination, the Wandering Jew has figured very 
 largely in fiction, particularly in the works of A. W. Schlegel, KUngemann, B^ranger, 
 Eugene Sue, Hans Christian Andersen, and others. 
 
 2— page U. The Mount of Corruption lay to the south of Jerusalem, across the Valley 
 of Hlnnom. Its summit looks down upon the spot in connection with which the Jew- 
 ish ideas of the future life of the wicked were formed. The valley, named, according 
 to Dean Stanley, from "some ancient hero, the son of Hinnom," is first mentioned in 
 Joshua (XV. 8; xvlli. 16), in marking out the boundary-line between Judah and Benja- 
 min. Solomon erected high places there for Moloch (1 Kings xl. 7), whose horrid rites 
 were revived by later idolatrous kings. Ahaz and Manassah made their children 
 " pass through the fire " In this valley (2 Kings xvi. 3 ; 8 Chron. xxviil. 3 ; xxxlli. 6) ; 
 and the fiendish custom ot sacrlflclng Infants to the flre-gods seems to have been kept 
 up for some time In Tophet, Its southeastern extremity (Jer. vll. 31 ; 2 Kings xxill. 10). 
 To put an end to these abominations, Joslah polluted the place to render it ceremo- 
 nially unclean (2 Kings xxiil. 10, 13, U ; 2 Chron. xxxlv. 4, 5), and it became the com- 
 mon cesspool of the dty, and the laystall where all the solid filth was collected. 
 
 3— page 16. It is dlfflcult to conceive of the magnificence and the extent of the Tem- 
 ple, as rebuilt by Herod, one of the greatest royal builders that ever lived. Edersheim 
 calls it " a palace, a fortress, a sanctuary of shining marble and glittering gold." Of 
 It the Jewish tradition ran; "He that has not seen the Temple of Herod, has never 
 
 537 
 
£lppendi£ 
 
 known what beauty Is." As the pilgrim ascended the Mount, crested by that symmet^ 
 rically proportioned building, which could hold within Its gigantic girdle not fewer than 
 210,000 persons, his wonder might well increase at every step. The Mount itseU 
 seemed like an Island, abruptly rising from out deep valleys, surrounded by a sea of 
 walls, palaces, streets, and houses, and crowned by a mass of snowy marble and glitter- 
 ing gold, rising terraxse upon terrace. Altogether it measured a square of about one 
 thousand feet. 
 
 4— page 16. The High Priest was Calaphas, before whom Jesus had just been on trial. 
 The beginning of the public ministry of Jesus was contemporaneous with the accession 
 of Pontius Pilate to the procuratorship and the appointment of Gaiaphas by Pilate to the 
 high priesthood. Under the administration of Pilate, Boman rule reached the deepest 
 depths in " venality, violence, robbery, persecutions, wanton, malicious Insults, judicial 
 murders without even the formality of a legal process, and cruelty." History records 
 of Calaphas that he was appointed High Priest, not because of his piety— the Talmud 
 describes in terrible language the " gross self-indulgence, violence, luxury, and even 
 public Indecency " of the high priests of that day— but because In him was found " a 
 sufficiently submissive instrument of Roman tyranny." The Irreverence here displayed 
 is the natural expression of an utterly godless nature, and the supernatural events ttiat 
 centered in that cruciflxlon hour could not have failed to call forth such manifest feelings 
 of horror. 
 
 S — page 18. The supernatural events mentioned in the narrative are recorded by the 
 evangelists, and confirmed by tradition and contemporaneous history, as having occurred 
 in connection with the Cruciflxlon- deep darkness enveloped the earth from the sixtli 
 hoiu' to the ninth hour of the day ; the veil of the Temple that shut In the Holy of Holies 
 was rent from top to bottom ; and a mighty earthquake terrified the multitudes. Longe 
 has well said: "The moment when Christ, the creative Prince, the principle of life to 
 bumanlty, and the word, expires, convulses the whole physical world." Dr. Philip 
 SchatC has said : " The darkness was designed to exhibit the amazement of nature, and 
 of the God of nature, at the wickedness of the Cruciflxlon of Him who is the light of the 
 world and the sun of righteousness." The horror from such dense darkness is brought 
 out powerfully by Lord Byron in his dream of " Darkness." The extent and eharacterof 
 the Temple- Veil will account for the fact that it produced so profound an impression 
 when it was seen rent from top to bottom and hanging In two parts from its fastenings 
 above and at the side. The Veils before the most Holy Place were sixty feet long, and 
 thirty wide, of tbe thickness of the palm of the hand, and wrought in seventy-two 
 squares Joined together. They were so heavy that it was said that three hundred priests 
 were needed to manipulate them. The rending was seen to be the work of God's own 
 band. 
 
 6— page as. The description of the priests and their residences would Indicate an ideal 
 condition. When the Israelites settled in Canaan, Joshua assigned to the priestly fam- 
 ilies thirteen cities of residence, with " suburbs " or pasture-grounds for their flocks 
 (Josh. xxl. 13-19). The Levites were scattered overall the country, but the cities of the 
 priests were all near Jerusalem and embraced within the bounds of Judab, Simeon, and 
 Benjamin. When the priests were divided into twenty-four courses, each course offici- 
 ated a week at a time. The interval of twenty-three weeks, between the successive 
 times of service of a course, was a time for home lite and high-priestly pursuits. The 
 opportunities for leisurely culture were undoubtedly very great. In addition to the 
 large number residing at this time in these priestly cities, who took their turn In the 
 courses, there were no less than 24,000 stationed permanently at Jerusalem, and 12,000 
 at Jericho ; so that It was a tradition among the Jews " that It had never fallen to the 
 lot of any priest to offer incense twice." Their proportion to the number of the people 
 must, therefore, have been much greater than that of tbe clergy has ever been in any 
 Christian nation. Their leisure and opportunities for culture, especially in the Sacred 
 Books, must have been exceptional. The number of the priestly class was doubtless 
 increased through intermarriage with the other tribes. Salathiel was a priest, and 
 hence a Levlte ; but he was also connected with the tribe of Naphtall, through marriage 
 of a daughter of that tribe ; so that when consciousness returned he found himself being 
 
 538 
 
annotations 
 
 borne, not by bis priestly associates to tbe cities of tbe priests about Jerusalem, but by 
 bis tribal kinsmen to tbe domain of Napbtall under tbe sbadows of Lebanon. 
 
 7— page 36. Before the Roman conquest, tbe hatred of the Samaritan for tbe Jew 
 made Samaria largely a land of brigands, through wblcb a Jew could not safely travel- 
 To Herod the Great belongs the credit of breaking up this brigandage, so far as it was 
 an organized system. Josephus relates that Herod, after taking Seppborls, tbe metrop- 
 olis of GalUee, " basted away to the robbers that were In the caves, who overran a great 
 part of tbe country, and did as great mischief to Its Inhabitants as war Itself could have 
 done." He defeated them with a great slaughter, and drove them out of tbe land. 
 
 8— page 28. The region througb which tbe caravan was passing not only brought 
 them In view of the scenes of many of the greatest events In Jewish history. Individual 
 and national -Mounts Carmel and tiilboa and Tabor and Hermon, and the theater of 
 patriarchal and prophetic activity— but across what has been tbe battle-fleld for the 
 armies of the world-empires of three continents as they have crossed and recrossed, 
 from the days of Abraham down tbrough the Crusades. It is aptly designated "a liv- 
 ing history of Providence." 
 
 9— page 33. Tbe " Haphtorab " (Isa. 1111.) contains tbe most graphic Old-Testament 
 picture of Jesus as tbe rejected, sufFerlng atoning Messiah. It was this that the Ethio- 
 pian eunuch of Queen Candace was reading when Philip went up to him In bis chariot 
 (Acts vlll. 29), and by the explanation of which be was converted to tbe Christian faith. 
 Through Its wonderful picture Eleazar seems already to have been led to look upon 
 Jesus as tbe Messiah ; but his hopes, roused by Salatblel's renunciation of tbe priest- 
 bood, were dashed in finding that the veil was still over the face of the latter, as it 
 was over tbe many of Israel. 
 
 10— page ^. Jubal is a typical Israelltisb mountaineer, hunter, and warrior In one, 
 combining with a sense of wild freedom a touch of tbe ancient Jewish enthusiasm. 
 Tbe incident here narrated gives a glimpse of big deeper nature, and his outbunit of 
 patriotic exultation at sight of tbe grave of the hosts of Sisera was one in which every 
 true Israelite could join. 
 
 11— page 47. Tbe life of a whole generation is passed In Inactivity after the home Is 
 made in Napbtall- an Inactivity that served to deepen the shadow of his doom and the 
 remorse for his unspeakable crime. In this period tbe preparation Is being made for tbe 
 final conflict of Jew with Roman authority, and at the end of it Salatbiel is thrust, by a 
 malevolent power. Into tbe leadership In that desperate first struggle, described by Jose- 
 phus, that promised to sweep tbe Romans from Judea. His fate, however, pursues blm, 
 and be languishes for years in a dungeon— leaving the Jews, now without competent 
 leadership, again under Roman control and oppression. 
 
 12— page 51. Antlochus IT., king of Syria— the son of Antiochus tbe Great— known In 
 history as Epiphanes the niustrious, but to many of bis contemporaries as Eplmanes tbe 
 Madman— was for ages the chief name of horror to tbe Jews. His father had conquered 
 Palestine, B.C. 203, and his brother and predecessor, Saleucus Phllopator, bad plundered 
 tbe Temple, and Syria bad disputed the control of the land with Egypt. Epiphanes con- 
 quered Jerusalem, B.C. 169, and held It for three years and a half. The obstinate resist- 
 ance of the Jews led to the most dreadful deeds of cruelty recorded In history. Those 
 who adhered to Ptolemy were mercilessly butebered. He plundered the city and tbe 
 Temple. He forbade tbe Jewish religion, tore up and burned tbe Sacred Scriptures, put 
 a stop to tbe dally Sacrifice of expiation, and dedicated tbe Temple to Zeus Olympics. 
 He compelled the people to keep their Infants unclrcumclsed, and to sacrifice swine's 
 flesh upon the altar. Kurtz says : " This was tbe abomination of desolation In tbe Holy 
 Place, spokeiKof by Daniel (cb. xl. 31)— a type of another desolation that still belonged 
 to the future (Matt. xxlv. 15)"— before tbe Second Coming of Christ. Added to all the 
 rest, his system of unspeakable barbarities and horrible tortures at length drove tbe 
 people to desperation, and led to the successful uprising and heroic struggle for free- 
 dom under Judas tbe Maccabee— truly God's bammer-and bis brothers (recorded in tbe 
 
 539 
 
appcnOlE 
 
 Apocrpyhal books bearing that name). Help in understanding tbe Jewlsb feeling toward 
 Antlochus may be found in Josephus, Frideauz, Edersheim, etc. 
 
 13— pa^e 61. Eleazar, as be appears in the narratire, is not the real name of a His- 
 toric leader of the Jews at this time. Josephus, indeed, speaks of a certain Jew " who 
 was called Eleazar, and was born at Saab, in Galilee. This man took up a stone of great 
 size, and threw it down from the wall upon the ram, and this with so great a force that 
 it broke off the head of the enf^ne. He also leaped down and took up the bead of tbe 
 ram from the midst of them, and, without any concern, carried it to the top of the wall, 
 and this, while he stood as a St mark to be pelted by all his enemies." Disregarding 
 bis many wounds, he showed himself a hero in other daring exploits, like some of those 
 attributed by the author to Salathiel. 
 
 Josephus tells also of another Eleazar, who, at the time when the Jews took the fort- 
 ress of Masada by treachery, was the governor of the Temple. He was the son of Ana- 
 nias, the High Priest, and was a very bold youth. He " persuaded those that ofBciated 
 in the divine service to receive no gift or sacrillce from any foreigner. And this," adds 
 Josephus, " was the true beginning of our war with the Romans ; tor they rejected 
 the sacrifice of Csesar on this account." 
 
 The real leader in this early Jewish war was, however, Flavius Josephus, the historian. 
 After the destruction of the army of Cestius Gallus in a.d. 66, the patriots precipitated 
 a revolution, and Josephus was sent to organize the defense of Galilee. He led in tbe 
 desperate struggle against Vespasian, but fell Into the bands of the Romans after the 
 tall of the stronghold of Jotapata and the subsequent massacre there. He saved himself 
 by predicting the future elevation of Vespasian to the imperial throne. He was present 
 In the Roman army at the destruction of Jerusalem, and accompanied Titus to Rome, 
 where he resided for the rest of his life. He was a great leader, and Salathiel in his 
 exploits often seems to personate him. 
 
 14^page 64. Onias is not brought forward as a historical character, but as the repre- 
 sentative of a class of Jews who were equally treacherous in their dealings with their 
 patriotic countrymen and with the Romans. He appears as one of the marplots of the 
 history— the personification of hatred and malice— from this council of war until the final 
 catastrophe, when he dies by the hand of Jubal. The speech which the writer puts in 
 his mouth was, however, undoubtedly suggested by the remarkable oration, recorded by 
 Josephus (Bk. II., cb. zvi.), which Agrippa (the same mentioned in the Acts) addressed to 
 the Jews, In the gallery adjoining the Temple and in the presence of his sister Bemice, 
 who was above in tbe palace of the Asmoneans, and in which he sought to dissuade the 
 people from going to war with their oppressors. In this speech of Agrippa we have 
 "an authentic account of the extent and strength of the Roman empire when the Jew- 
 ish war began," from which becomes the more apparent the madness that hurried the 
 Jews to their final destruction. 
 
 15— page 70. In these foreglimpses of national doom, the representative character of 
 Salathiel is brought out and the sense of his own personal doom, as the arch-crucifler 
 of Jesus, deepened. 
 
 16— page 72. It has often been remarked that the selection of Judea as the home of 
 the chosen people bears tbe marks of divine wisdom. At the point where tbe three 
 continents of the ancient world meet, surrounded by desert, mountain, and sea, 
 broken by rugged ranges and defiles impassable in the face of even a small opposing 
 force, and filled with a dense population, it was not only unique in character but 
 impregnable to foreign foe so long as Israel remained faithful to its covenant with 
 Jehovah. When the barriers, which at first excluded the people from the outside world 
 in their earlier development, were broken down, it became the one place from which 
 all the world was most accessible for the spread of the Hebrew Theism and of Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 17— page 74. The Tear of Jubilee, recurring every fiftieth year, was a remarkable 
 feature of the Jewish system. It was Inaugurated on the Day of Atonement with the 
 blowing of trumpets throughout the land, and by a proclamation of universal liberty. 
 Its main provisions were : (1) The soil was left uncultivated and the chance produce 
 
 640 
 
Bnnotattone 
 
 was free to all corners. (2) Every Israelite recovered Ua right to the land originally 
 allotted to the lamlly to which he belonged. If he, or his ancestor, had parted with it. 
 Houses In walled cities were an exception, altho these were redeemahle at any time 
 within a full year of the time of sale. (3) All Israelites who had become slaves, either 
 to their own countrymen or to resident foreigners, were set free in the Jubilee. 
 Josephus states that in his time all debts were remitted in the Tear of Jubilee. It 
 was a wonderful provision lor preventing the accumulation of Inordinate wealth in the 
 hands of the few, and for relieving and giving new opportunity to those whom misfor- 
 tune or fault had reduced to poverty. (See Smith's Bible Dictionary.) 
 
 18— page 75. Small as was Judea— no larger than one of our smaller States— It yet has 
 the distinction ol embracing within its bounds the temperatures and productions of all 
 dimes. NotvrithstandlDg the covenant unfaithfulness of its people and their failure in 
 obedience to Jehovah, it is still true that it bequeathed to mankind all the forms of Theism 
 —Judaism, Christianity, and Mohammedanism— and with and through them the chief 
 enlightening and power-giving influences since operative among the nations. It is not, 
 then, too much to say that, with faithfulness to God and to its unequaled privileges, 
 " Judea might have changed the earth Into a paradise." 
 
 19— page 79. The elevation of Salathiel to the leadership, as the Prince of Naphtali, 
 in the war now decided upon, seems contrary to the natural order, as he was a priest 
 and allied to the tribe of Naphtali by marriage merely ; but the plea that It was a holy 
 war prevailed, and the superhuman qualities that had been manifested In him clearly 
 marked him for the position. The exaltation and exultation were to be simply the 
 prelude to a sharp recall to a deeper sense of the curse that was upon him, and upon 
 all else because of his crime. 
 
 20— page 84. The blow was a critical one for Judea, depriving it of Its leader at the 
 moment when that leader was most needed. It likewise dashed the high hopes of the 
 leader and left him a madman, a prey to the wildest imagination that swept him 
 through earth and sky, leaving him at last, for periods beyond all counting, the sleep- 
 less, conscious, vivid victim of misery unspeakable. 
 
 31— page 93. The grove known as the Cedars of Lebanon consists of about 400 trees, 
 standing In a depression of the mountain, quite apart from all other trees. The trees are 
 about 6,500 feet above the sea, and 3,000 below the summit. About 37 of these are large 
 and old, the 11 or 12 older ones being of immense size and each spreading itself widely 
 round from several trunks, and reaching back In time 3,500 and more years— beyond 
 Solomon and Abraham. They are naturally looked upon with much reverence by the 
 natives of the region as living records of the glory of Solomon. The Maronlte patriarch 
 was formerly accustomed to celebrate there the festival of the Transfiguration at an 
 altar of rough stones. In later years a chapel has been erected on the spot. The refer- 
 ences of the author are to an earUer, and usually idolatrous, worship. Bands of robbers, 
 such as that described, naturally sought the vicinity of such gatherings. 
 
 22— page 97. The worship of the robbers at Lebanon Illustrates the ease with which 
 the Oriental mind conjoins religion with any form of vUlalny. This, however, is likely 
 to be a feature of any religion that is a mere superstition. 
 
 23— page 103. These Greek Christian hermits, dwelling apart from men In thehr 
 rocky cavern, are a fair type of thousands of such bands, driven by the terrible persecu- 
 tions of the Roman Emperor to take refuge In the bowels of the earth. They were often 
 made up of the noblest and best of souls that most readily responded to the call and the 
 ideal of Christianity. A similar state continued during much of the time until, in the 
 age of Constantine, the Christians became so numerous as to be able to change from a 
 policy of inaction to one of aggressive self-defense. 
 
 24— page 113. History records the facts of Eoman corruption and degeneracy during 
 this period. During the absence of Salathiel, the oppression and extortion had mad- 
 dened the Jews and reached a point beyond endurance. There resulted a succession of 
 partial and premature uprisings. The empire everywhere seemed falling into decay. 
 
 641 
 
appcn&lE 
 
 and preparlnR for dissolution ; the evils and the evil line of rulers culminated In the 
 administration of Gesslus Floras. 
 
 25— pase 133. It was Gesslus Florus who, by Ma barbarity in governing, finally forced 
 the Jews into war. Josephus, contrajsting him with Albinus, pictures Florus as a human 
 monster : "Altho such was the character of Albinus, yet did Gessius Florus, who 
 succeeded him, demonstrate him to have been a most excellent person, upon the com- 
 parison ; for the former did the greatest part of his rogueries In private, and with a 
 sort of dissimulation ; but Gessius did his unjust actions to the harm of the nation after 
 a pompous manner ; and as tho he had been sent as an executioner to punish con- 
 demned malefactors, he omitted no sort of rapine, or of vexation ; where the case was 
 really pitiable be was most barbarous, and in things of the greatest turpitude he was 
 most impudent. Nor could any one outdo him In disguising the truth, nor could any one 
 contrive more subtle ways of deceit than he did. He indeed thought it but a petty 
 ofTense to get money out of simple persons ; so be spoiled whole cities and ruined entire 
 bodies of men at once, and did almost publicly proclaim it all the country over that they 
 had liberty given them to turn robbers, upon this condition : that he might go shares 
 with them in the spoils they got. Accordingly, this, his greediness of gain, was the 
 occasion that entire toparchles were brought to desolation, and a great many of the 
 people left their own country and fled Into foreign provinces." 
 
 26— page 145. In the Prophet Daniel's vision the Boman world-emplre was repre- 
 sented by Iron, which dashed and broke In pieces all else. It is the wont to say that 
 Rome had a genius for conquest and empire. Among the nations she represented 
 power and law, as Greece represented culture and Judea religion. The Roman was 
 lacking in the culture and religion needed to refine and control his rugged nature ; hence, 
 bis drift toward the animal and brutal, and toward the outward show of life. Ck)rrup- 
 tlon was already far on Its way, and was only delayed for a time by the spread and 
 prevalence of the Christian faith. 
 
 87— page 147. Nero was Emperor from a.d, 54 to A.D. 68. He was a nephew of 
 Caligula, and was adopted by Claudius in A.D. 50. Even his own age, which bad borne 
 and nurtured him, regarded him in his later career a monster. He killed those whom 
 he feared, among them his own mother and Britannlcus, the son of Claudius, and right- 
 ful heir to the throne ; those who stood In the way of bis wtiims, as his first two wives, 
 Octavia and Poppsea Sabina ; and at last he killed everybody who attracted his attention. 
 Under bhn occurred the insurrection of the Jews, put down by Vespasian, In which 
 Josephus so ably led his countrymen. The conflagration in July, 64, in which two-thirds 
 of Rome was destroyed, is believed to have been the work of Nero, who is said to have 
 shown his Indifference by playing the " Siege of Troy " on his fiddle while watching the 
 flames from a high tower in Us palace. He wantonly accused the Christians of setting 
 It on flre, and sentenced them to be clad in tarred garments, set on flre, and driven as 
 flaming torches through the streets of Rome. A conspiracy formed against him in a.d. 
 66 failed, and he sacrificed bis old Instructor, Beneca, and the philosopher's nephew, 
 the poet Lucan, the author of " Pharsalia " ; but one formed In a.d. 68, extending over 
 Gaul, Spain, and Rome Itself, overwhelmed the tyrant on his return from a journey In 
 Greece, where he had appeared as a singer on the stage, and drove him to despair and 
 to suicide in June of that year. 
 
 28— pa«e 149. " Married, but not mated," could not have been said of Nero, at least 
 in the later years of his life. He had early married Octavia, the daughter of Claudius, 
 bis adopted father ; but afterward became enslaved by the charms of a mistress, Aete, 
 a beautiful freedwoman, who was content to be merely the Emperor's plaything. In 
 the year 58, Poppsea Sabina took the place of Acte. The new favorite was not satisfied, 
 however, to be merely the plaything of Nero; she was resolved to be his wife. With 
 consummate skill she set herself at once to remove the obstacles that stood in her way. 
 By playing upon the passions and fears of Nero she accomplished her diabolical pur- 
 poses. She wrought him up to a passion of hatred against Agripplna, his mother, and 
 she was murdered. Tbe trusted advlsera of the Emperor were one by one made way 
 with. Octavia, his wife, daughter of Claudius, now long neglected, was divorced, ban- 
 ished, and barbarously murdered. Poppsea's triumph was now complete. " She was 
 
 542 
 
annotations 
 
 formally married to Nero ; her head appeared on the coins side by side with his ; and 
 her statue appeared In the public places ol Eome." Her career shows her to have been 
 anything but a " dove In a vulture's talons." Poppsea died In the autumn of the year 
 65, just after the great conflagration, and a little before the great pestilence consequent 
 upon It. 
 
 29— page 160. The dying appeal of the martyr St. Paul— whose name is not mentioned 
 —is depicted with a delicacy rarely if ever seen in the present-day handling of sacred 
 subjects tn secular romances. 
 
 30— page 173. The account given by the historian Tacitus, in his " Annals," of the 
 origin of the Christians, of their persecution, and of the satiating of the popular rage, is 
 of peculiar interest as illustrating this narrative. Of the Christians, Tacitus says : 
 
 "This name was derived from one 'Chrlstus,' who was executed In the reign of 
 Tiberius by the procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilate ; and this accursed superstition, for 
 a moment repressed, broke forth again, not only through Judea, the source of evil, but 
 even through the city, whither all things outrageous and shameful flow together and 
 And many adherents. Accordingly those were flrgt arrested who confessed, afterward 
 a vast number upon their information, who were convicted, not so much on the charge 
 of causing the flre, as for their hatred to the human race. To their execution there 
 were added such mockeries as that they were wrapped in the sMns of wild beasts and 
 torn in pieces by dogs, or crudfled, or set on flre and burnt, when daylight ended, as 
 torches by night. Nero lent his own gardens for the spectacle, and gave a chariot race, 
 at which he mingled freely vrtth the multitude In the garb of a driver or mountJEHl on 
 his chariot. As the result of all, a feeling of compassion arose for the sufferers, tlio 
 guilty and deserving of condign punishment, on the ground that they were destroyed 
 not for the common good, but to gratify the cruelty of one man." 
 
 31— page 187. " Unconquerable fortresses " proclaimed the name and sway of Herod 
 the Great. Among these were Essebonitis and Machserus in Persea, and Alexandreian, 
 Herodlon, Hyrcanla, and Masada in Southeastern Judea, near the shore of the Dead 
 Sea. According to the description of Masada by Josephus : 
 
 " There was a rock not small in circumference, and very big h. It was encompassed 
 with valleys of such vast depth downward that the eye could not reach their bottoms ; 
 they were abrupt, and such as no animal could walk upon, excepting at two places of 
 the rock, where It subsides, in order to afllord a passage for ascent, tho not without 
 ditSculty. Now, of the ways that lead to it, one is that from the Lake Aspbaltitls, 
 toward the sunrising, and another on the west, where the ascent is easier ; the one of 
 these ways called the Serpent, as resembling that animal in its narrowness and its per- 
 petual windings ; for it is broken oS at the prom'nent precipice of the rock, and returns 
 frequently into itself, and lengthening again by little and little, hath much ado to 
 proceed forward : and he that would walk along it must first go on one leg, and then on 
 the other ; there is also nothing but destruction in case your feet slip ; for on each side 
 there is a vastly deep chasm and precipice, sufficient to quell the courage of everybody 
 by the terror it infuses into the mind. When, therefore, a man had gone along this 
 way for thirty furlongs, the rest is the top of the hill, not ending at a small point, but is 
 no other than a plain upon the highest part of the mountain. Upon this top of the hill, 
 Jonathan, the High Priest, first of all built a fortress and called it Masada ; after which 
 the rebuilding of this place employed the care of King Herod to a great degree." 
 
 32— page 233. It was In Masada that Herod the Great, when he fled to Borne to appeal 
 to Antony, had left his mother, sister, and children. In later years, after he had been 
 established in the kingdom by order of Eome, he rebuilt, strengthened, and beautified 
 the fortress. Soon after Florus, by his extortion and cruelty, had driven the Jews to 
 rebellion, history records that Masada was taken by surprise, and the Eoman garrison 
 put to the sword. This Is the historical basis of this chapter of the story. 
 
 38— page 247. Josephus follows his description of the fortress of Masada by an 
 account of Herod's palace, that justiflea the description here given, and reveals the 
 motive of the king in its construction : 
 
 " Moreover, he built a palace therein at the western ascent ; it was within and beneath 
 the walls of the citadel, but IncUned to its north side. Now the wall of this palace was 
 very high and strong, and had at its four comers towers sixty cubits high. The furniture, 
 also, ol the edlflces, and of the cloisters, and of the baths, was of great variety and was 
 very costly ; and these buildings were supported by pillars of single stones on every side r. 
 
 543 
 
appen6fj 
 
 the walls also, and the floors of the edlflces were paved with stones of several colore. . . . 
 As for the furniture that was within this fortress. It was sUll more (wonderful, on 
 account of its splendor and long continuance. . . . There was also found here a large 
 Quantity of all sorts of weapons of war, which had been treasured up hy that king, and 
 were sufficient for ten thousand men ; there were cast-iron, and brass, and tin : which 
 show that be had taken much pains to have all things here ready for the greatest occa- 
 sions ; for the report goes, how Herod thus prepared this fortress on his own account, as 
 a refujge against two kinds of danger : the one for fear of the multitude of the Jews, 
 lest they should depose him, and restore their former kings to the government ; the 
 other danger was greater and more terrible, which arose from Cleopatra, quean of 
 Egypt, who did not conceal her intentions, but spake often to Antony, and deared blm 
 to cut oft Herod, and entreated him to bestow the kingdom of Judea upon her. And 
 certainly It is a great wonder that Antony did never comply with her commands in this 
 point, as he was so miserably enslaved to his passion for her ; nor should any one have 
 been surprised If she had been gratified In such her request. So the fear of these 
 dangers made Herod rebuild Masada, and thereby leave it tor the flnlsblng stroke of 
 the Romans In this Jewish war." 
 
 34— page 253. The record of history at the basis of this part of the narrative is, that 
 Immediately alter the capture of Masada, " Manahem— a younger son of the celebrated 
 Judas of Galilee, who bad perished In a revolt soon after the exile of Archelaus, leaving 
 to a powerful party the watohword, ' We have no king but God,'— proclaimed himself 
 the leader of the zealots and marched upon Jerusalem. The outworks of the palace 
 were mined and burned, and the garrison capitulated. The Jews and the troops of 
 Agrippa were allowed to depart; the Boman soldiers retired to the three strong towers 
 bnllt by Herod, and all left in the palace were put to death. The success was fallowed 
 by the execution of the High Priest Ananias and his brother, who were found hidden 
 In an aqueduct ; but these and other excesses displeased the people ; and when Manahem 
 proceeded to assume the royal diadem, be was put to death by the paxtizans of Eleazar. 
 In blm the Insurgents lost the only hope of a competent leader. The Eoman soldiers in 
 the towers were soon compelled to surrender on promise of theh- lives ; but they bad no 
 sooner piled their arms than they were cut to pieces. This baptism of blood, by which 
 the zealots committed themselves to a war of extermination, which they at the same 
 time deprived of the dignity of a patriotic struggle, was perpetrated on a Sabbath ; and 
 on the same day the Jews of Csesarea were massacred by the Greeks to the number of 
 20,000. These deeds mark the character of the conflict, not only as an Insurrection of 
 Judea ajtainst the Romans, hut as an internecine struggle of the Jewish and Greek 
 races in Palestine and the neighboring lands."— PMlip Smith, " History of the World." 
 
 36— page 254. These Mosaic regulations for exemption from war are found in 
 Deut. XX. They are unique and peculiar to the Jewish code. 
 
 36— page 263. The historian records that the capture of Jerusalem brought down tbe 
 Romans upon the insurgents : 
 
 "Cestlns Gallus, the governor of Syria, set his forces In motion, with the forces of 
 Agrippa, who had now openly taken the Boman side, and other allies, added to bis 
 Boman legions. He advanced upon Jerusalem through the pass of Bethhoron, at the 
 season of the Feast of Tabernacles, a.d. 66, with an army of 25,000 men. Begiardless 
 alike of the feast and of the Sabbath, the Jews rushed out to meet the enemy on the spot 
 consecrated by the victories of Joshua and Judas Maccabeus ; crushed the Boman van 
 with the slaughter of more than 500 men, and with a loss of only 22. A charge 
 of light troops on the Jewish rear saved tbe army of Geatlus from destruction, and gave 
 him time to entrench his camp, and the Jews were obliged to retire to Jerusalem." 
 Gestlus then advanced and encamped at Scopus, a mile to the north of the city. After 
 five days of irregular attacks, be advanced against the northern wall of the Temple and 
 began the work of mining ; but, notwithstanding encouragements from the factions in 
 the city, he suddenly and unaccountably withdrew, and, after a night's rest on Scopus, 
 "commenced his retreat with the hostile population gathering round him at every step, 
 and reached Gabas with loss. Here the beasts of burden were killed and the baggage 
 abandoned. As soon as the Bomans had entered the pass of Bethhoron, they were 
 assailed In flank and rear and the passage blocked In front. Night alone saved them 
 from utter destruction ; and Gestlus, dlsplasring the standards and leaving 400 men, to 
 make a show of defending the empty camp, fled with the remnant of his army, pursued 
 by the Jews as far as Antipatrls. He lost 6,300 foot and 3S0 horses ; and tbe engines of 
 war, which be bad carried up for the siege of Jerusalem, became an invaluable help to 
 
 544 
 
annotations 
 
 Its defense. Havtog secured this prize, and collected the Immense l)ooty, the Jews 
 returned to the city with hymns of triumph, fancying that the days of the Maccahees 
 had returned, and forgetting that the power they had defied wielded the resources of 
 the whole civilized world, while they had forfeited the aid of Omnipotence."— PM*p 
 Smltn. 
 
 87— page 276. It was during this Interval, In which the Jews were without compe- 
 tent leadership, that the Romans made and carried forward their plans for conquering 
 Judea. The news of the revolt and the defeat of Cestlus reached Nero when he was on 
 his theatrical tour of Greece. He at once entrusted Vespasian (afterward Emperor) 
 with the command of aU the forces of Syria and the East. Vespasian immediately " sent 
 his sou Titus to Alexandria, to lead the fifteenth legion Into Palestine, while he hastened 
 through Asia Minor and Syria, collecting troops and engines as he advanced. In the 
 spring of the following year, three legions, with a large force of allies, were assemhied 
 at Ptolemais (Acre). The sense of being committed to so great a conflict, and the six- 
 months' interval for preparation, had restored some order among the still divided Jews. 
 The avowed friends of Rome had either taken refuge with her armies or been com- 
 pelled to Join the Insurgents." So writes the historian. In the interval the moderate 
 party, who would have been content to acknowledge the supremacy of Rome if their 
 liberties were secured, bad, by their numbers and character, obtained the ascendency 
 over the zealots. 
 
 38— page 280. Jubal appears In this strange manner, after two years had been passed 
 In the dungeon, and rehearses the story of the war. The attack of Vespasian fell first 
 upon Galilee, which lay in his way to Jerusalem. The moderate party had placed 
 Joseph, the son of Matthias— better known as the author of " Jewish Antiquities," and 
 by Ws Roman name, Flavins Josephus, which he later assumed, as the cUent of Ves- 
 pasian— In command in Galilee. His account given in "The Jewish War" proves that 
 the horrors of the conflict In Galilee were not overdrawn by Jubal. Josephus, who was 
 undoubtedly possessed of military genius of no mean order, was driven at last to stake 
 the fate of Galilee on the defense of Jotapata. Before it Vespasian was wounded, but 
 the hill-fortress was flnally stormed. The story of the marvelous escape of the Jewish 
 leader and of his recapture Is related by himself. He was thereafter attached to the 
 suite of Vespasian " in a character between a prisoner and a companion ; and, after 
 acting throughout the war as a mediator between his countrymen and the Romans, he 
 was rewarded with a grant of land in Judea, together with a pension and the Roman 
 franchise." Some of the most interesting features in Dr. Croly's romance would seem 
 to have been suggested by experiences in the life of Josephus. The horrors of the war 
 were indescribable. Toward the close of the Galilean campaign, Trajan was despatched 
 by Vespasian to seize Joppa, the only port held by the Jews. " Here the unfortunate 
 inhabitants took to their ships, which were dashed to pieces by a storm, and the few 
 survivors killed by the Romans as they gained the land. At the other captured cities 
 (Tiberias. Taricheia, Gamala, Itabyrium, and Gischala) all the elder inhabitants were 
 massacred and the younger sold as slaves. Never was a war marked by greater atroci- 
 ties on both sides than that which now desolated the Holy Land." 
 
 39— page 284. The numerous caves, owing to the chalky limestone of which the rocks 
 of Syria and Palestine chiefly consist, are one of the marked features of this region. 
 The Scriptures are full of references to them, as they were used for dwelling-places, 
 burial-places, places of refuge, and other purposes. The bold shores of the Mediter- 
 ranean, affording as they do so little good harborage, are well suited to furnish caverns, 
 approachable from the sea only, in which the robber band Is represented as holding its 
 orgies. 
 
 40— page 291. Such a robber group was not uncommon in that age, made up as It waa 
 of such diverse races and dispositions. The corruption of the Roman rule under Nero 
 brought an approach to anarchy in many of the provinces. Owing to the favorable 
 character of Its topography and the strange mixture of Its population, Palestine, and 
 indeed the whole Syrian shore of the Mediterranean, was at the worst in this regard. 
 Robbery, by sea and by land, was so widely practised as to gather to Itself a degree of 
 rrapectablllty not usually aasociated with it. German, Chlote, Syrian, Arab, Egyptian, 
 
 36 545 
 
Bppendts 
 
 and Ethiopian, all develop here In the most marked way, under the Influence of over- 
 much wine, their national ldlosyncra;9le8 and their natural quarrelaomeness. 
 
 41— page 328. This chance meeting with Naomi, the granddaughter of Ananus, the 
 late High Priest, furnishes the key to many of the situations and strange adventures of 
 the closing volume of this romance. It was during the period of Salathiel's incarcera- 
 tion In the dungeon, and while Vespasian was pushing on to Jerusalem, that the death 
 of Ananus occurred. Josephus represents Ananus, or Annus, as a man who might 
 have saved the nation from destruction. At this time he shared the supreme power in 
 JenLsalem, under the Sanhedrln, with Simon, the son of Garion, the bravest of the 
 zealots, the moderate party being thus the controlling power In the dty. Later, how- 
 ever, when the tide of devastation directed by Vespasian had entirely swept over Gal- 
 ilee and Ferea, the death of Nero brought a brief respite until Vespasian himself had 
 been chosen Emperor. Meanwhile the efforts of Ananus to make preparation for 
 defense were paralyzed by the zealots. The historian relates how " Jerusalem became 
 the refuge and sink of the fugitives from every quarter. Crowds brought fresh contu- 
 sion, and added to the fatal power of the zealots. At length John of Giscala arrived, 
 with his panting men and horses, from the fall of the last Galilean fortress. In spite 
 of the tale which their appearance told, the crafty leader announced that the Bomans 
 were exhausted, and pointed to the long resistance of the northern cities as a presage 
 of their failure before Jerusalem. His arrival animated the zealots ; and the robbers 
 and assassins who had come into the city from every quarter enacted scenes which are 
 only paralleled by the September massacres of Paris in 1792." Ananus set himself 
 against this sacrilegious reign of terror, but the zealots prevailed, and he was put to 
 death, and his naked corpse " thrown out to the dogs and vultures, in a land where it 
 was a sacred custom to bury even the worst malefactors before sunset. The moderate 
 party was crushed, and the zealots followed up their triumph, flrst by a series of mas- 
 sacres, in which, says Josephus, * they slaughtered the people like a herd of unclean 
 animals,' to the number of 12,000, and then by murders I'nder the form of law." Fac- 
 tion then ran riot as the doomed city awaited the coming of Titus, who succeeded his 
 father Vespasian, for ita flnal destruction. 
 
 43— page 347. When Vespasian was made Emperor, he departed for Rome, leaving 
 Titus to work the wrath of God upon the doomed city— doomed because of unfaithful- 
 ness to its covenant with Jehovah. Early in the year 70, Titus, having collected his 
 forces at Cssarea, moved upon Jerusalem with not lees than 80,000 men, arriving before 
 the city when, at the last Passover ever celebrated, it was crammed, as Josephus relates, 
 with a million persons keeping tbat feast and without any provision having been made 
 for their sustenance. The garrison of the Holy City was made up of three principal 
 factions, as ready to fight with one another as with the Roman. Eleazar, the leader of 
 one faction of the zealots, vrlth 2,400 men, held the Temple and four strong towers that 
 had been erected at its comers. John of Giscala, leader of a mediating party, had suc- 
 ceeded to the position , of Ananus in the Temple courts and the lower city, and with 
 6,000 men besieged Eleazar's forces. Simon, son of Gloras, occupied the hill of Zlon 
 with 10,000 Jews and 5,000 Idumeans, and confronted both the other leaders. Titus 
 found these factions carrying on an incessant fight with one another by means of the 
 war-engines left behind by Cestius in his flight. With such a state of things ezlstlng, 
 there could be little hope of defense against the conquerors of the world. 
 
 43-^page 353. The Prince arrived after Titus had pushed the siege far on toward 
 completion. The historian records that on the first day of the feast, the Jewish leaders 
 for a moment suspended their mutual hostilities to make a combined attack upon the 
 single legion stationed on the Moimt of Olives. The Romans, at work on their entrench- 
 ments, were suddenly beset by hosts that kept pouring out of the city, and were driven 
 back to the summit of the hill ; but by a desperate effort they at last succeeded in beat- 
 ing them back. On the next day, the second of the feast, the factions renewed the in- 
 ternal conflict, and the party of John gained possession of the Temple ; and thus the 
 tactions were reduced to two. 
 
 44— page 336. The Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem alone formed an exception to 
 tba Judicial blindness that bad fallen upon Israel. Warned by the prophecy ot Jesus 
 
 546 
 
Bnnotations 
 
 (Luke xxl. 20, 21), they had departed in a body, before the city was Burronnded, to 
 Fella, a Tillage of Decapolis, beyond the Jordan. 
 
 45— page 360. When the siege at length shut In the city. It was no longer possible to 
 furnish the priests or the offerings for the daily sacriflce twice a day for the sins of the 
 people : hence when it ceased, on the 17th of the month Tamuz, the universal horror of 
 a people undone expressing itself in a universal outcry. Concerning the cessation of 
 the daily sacriflce, Whiston, the translator and editor of Josephus, has the following 
 note: "This was a remarkable day indeed, the' 17th of Panemus (Tamuz), A.I). 70, 
 when, according to Daniel's prediction, six hundred and six years before, the Romans, 
 in half a week, caused the sacriflce and oblation to cease (Dan. Ix. 27). For from the 
 month of February a.d. 66, about which time Vespasian entered on this war, to this 
 very time, was Just three years and a half." 
 
 46— page 367. The historical record is that, on April 13 a.d. 70, when Titus ad- 
 vanced in person at the head of six hundred cavalry to reconnoiter the city, not a man 
 was to be seen ; but as he rode incautiously near the wall, he was suddenly smrounded 
 by a multitude that poured out from a gate behind him. Bareheaded and without a 
 breastplate, he forced his way through the hosts with his horse and sword, amid a 
 storm of darts that transfixed many of his followers, and, tho he escaped unharmed to 
 the camp, the Jews could boast that the first act of the siege was Ceesar's flight. 
 
 47— page 378. What with faction within and assault from without, the wretchedness 
 of Jerusalem at this time had become almost inconceivable. The historian graphically 
 says': 
 
 " Soon there was UteraUy a battle for Uf e within the city. The weak and the starving 
 bad their last morsels of food snatched from them by the strong ; and the strong were 
 tortured and executed because tbeh- looks convicted them of having a concealed store. 
 ' Kvery kind feeling, love, respect, natural affection, was extinct through the all-absorb- 
 ing want. Wives would snatch the last morsel from husbands, children from parents, 
 moQieTS from children ; they would intercept even their own milk from the lips of their 
 pining babes.' If we are allowed to doubt whether Josephus has exaggerated these hor- 
 rors, we may be sure that his picture of the cruelties of his Imperial patron Ls but too 
 true. As the famine became more intolerable, so did the measures of Titus to force the 
 people to surrender. Wretches who prowled outside the walls during tho night, to pick 
 up scraps of food, were scourged and crucified, sometimes to the number of five hundred 
 at a time, and twisted into ludicrous postures by the wantonness of the soldiers ; the 
 soldiers bade those that desired peace to behold these examples of Roman mercy." 
 
 48— page 387. It Is to the honor of Titus that he made earnest and repeated efforts to 
 save the Temple as well as to prevent its desecration by the Jews themselves. After 
 the destruction of Antonia and before his final assault upon the defenses of the Temple, 
 he made a last experiment of clemency. According to the historian, many accepted his 
 offer of mercy ; and when the rest bad fled to Zion and the Temple, he sent to Josephus 
 to offer them free egress if they would come out and fight, rather than see the sanctu- 
 ary polluted. His words, uttered in their own language, were beginning to make some 
 impression, when his old enemy, John, sternly interrupted him, declaring that he feared 
 not the taking of the city, for (Jod would protect His own : and Josephus narrowly es- 
 caped capture. The captives Just admitted to quarter, including many of the chief 
 priests, next appeared before the Temple gate to entreat the zealots to save the house of 
 God from ruin ; but the merciless John, who had already butchered many of their rela- 
 tives, answered with a shower of missiles, which— says Josephus— strewed the ground 
 with bodies as thickly as the places where the slaves were thrown out unburied. Titus 
 himself pleaded the inconsistency of filling with arms and blood the courts of the Holy 
 Place, nay, even the Holy of Holies, which they had always guarded with jealousy. " I 
 call on your gods," said he, " I call on my whole army— I call on the Jews who are with 
 me— I call on yourselves- to witness that I do not force you to this crime. Come forth, 
 and fight in any other place, and no Roman shaU violate your sacred edifice." But the 
 zealots, in their Judicial blindness, rejected all offers of mercy, and waited for Ckid to 
 teve the Temple by miracle. 
 
 49— page 409. The historian records that the year preceding the final revolt (a.d. 66) 
 was marked by the direst prodigies of impending war and of the desolation of the Tern- 
 
 547 
 
Bppendis 
 
 pie. Duilns a whole year, a comet shaped like a simitar bnns over the city, and man; 
 an eye-witness testified to the appearance described by Milton : 
 
 " As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 
 Waged In the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 To battle In the clouds ; before each van 
 Prick forth the airy knights, and couch their speais. 
 Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 
 Item either end of heaven the welkin burns." 
 
 Those who witnessed the splendid comet of Donatl (a.d. 18SS) wUl at once be aUe to 
 recognize the form of the Saming sword across the sky. 
 
 "The brazen gate of the Temple, which required twenty men to more it on its hinges, 
 flew open of its own aecord in the dead of night, as if to let in the adyancing armies of 
 the heathen." (See Philip Smith.) 
 
 60— page 419. The doom of the Holy City had been rendered Inevitable by the con- 
 duct of the people In forsaking their covenant with Jehovah. The Evangelist Luke 
 (zlx. 41-44) represents Jesus as pausing as He approached the city, and shedding bitter 
 tears over the remedilessness of the fate of the city and people. The passage is of in- 
 terest on account, not only of this weeping, but also of the prophecy so remarkably ful- 
 filled by Titus. The words of the Gospel are as follows : 
 
 "And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, saying. If thou 
 hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which belong unto tby 
 peace I but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee, that 
 thine enemies shall cast a trench about tbee, and compass thee round, and keep thee In 
 on every side, and shall lay tbee even with the ground, and thy children within thee; 
 and they shall not leave In thee one stone upon another, because thou knewest not the 
 time of thy visitation." 
 
 51— page 428.— It will be remembered that when Titus gathered his forces at Csesarea 
 for an advance upon Jerusalem, he drew from Alexandria, Ejiryptian and Ethiopian 
 troops. 
 
 62— page 446. The loss of life among the Jews during the siege of Jerusalem was al- 
 most incredible. Josephus reckoned it at 1,100,000, a number not difScult to credit If 
 we remember that " nearly the whole male population of Judea had been gathered to- 
 gether for the Passover when the city was beleaguered. The prisoners taken in ttie 
 whole war were 90,000." Had it not been for the Jews of the dispersion, the nation 
 would have perished with the city. It was due to the compassion of Titus that a move- 
 ment that might have destroyed even this remnant was stopped almost at its Incep- 
 tion. When persecution of the Jews began at Antioch, where several Jews were put 
 to death for an alleged plot to set Are to the city, from which It would probably have 
 spread over the empire, Titus put an end to it by his famous order and rebuke : " The 
 country of the Jews is destroyed, thither they can not return ; it would be hard to allow 
 them no home to retreat to ; leave them in peace." 
 
 53— page 459. By his Roman prenomen, Titus, is usually known Titus Flavins Sablnus 
 Vespasianus, the eleventh of the twelve Csesars, Emperor from 79 to 81 a.d. He was in 
 some respects one of the most remarkable of the Caesars. " Educated in the imperial 
 court, he was thoroughly trained In all elegant accomplishments : he could speak Greek 
 fluently, and could compose verses ; he was proficient in music ; he could write short- 
 hand, and could imitate handwriting so skilfully that he used to say that he might have 
 been a most successful forger. He was very handsome, with a fine commanding ex- 
 pression and a vigorous frame, well tiuined in all the exercises of a soldier." His long 
 and varied military and executive experience, under the guidance of his father Vespa- 
 sian and especially in the Jewish war, made him a consummate warrior and adminis- 
 trator. For a time, however, after he became formally associated with his father in the 
 government, with the title of Caesar, and practically controlled the administration dup- 
 ing the last nine years of Vespasian's reign, he developed " the character of being lux- 
 urious, self Jndulgent, profligate, and cruel," and seemed to have in himself the promise 
 of being a second Nero. The scandal connecting his name with the shameless beauty 
 
 548 
 
annotations 
 
 Berenice, the sister of tbe ARrippa of the Acta of the Apostles, outraged public opinion 
 at Rome, but ended In his sending her back to the East. 
 
 The death of Vespasian, in 79 A.D., wrought a transfonnatlon in Titus, and he became 
 known as the " love and delight of mankind." " He had the tact to make himself Uked 
 by alL He seems to have been thoroughly kindly and good-natured ; he delighted In 
 giving splendid presents, and his memorable saying, ' I have lost a day,' Is said to have 
 been uttered one evening at the dinner-table when he suddenly remembered that he 
 had not bestowed a gift on any one that day." 
 
 54^page 467. The nne portrait here drawn of Titus Mavlus Vespaslanus, the tenth of 
 the Twelve Cassars, known In history as Vespasian, is In striking contrast with that 
 previously sketohed of his son Titus. The father had little of the princely and imposing 
 personality of the son. He was a thoroughly able soldier, while simple and frugal in 
 his habits ; In short, Tacitus says that " but for his avarice he waa equal to the generals 
 of old days." A better judgment, however, would probably attribute the avarice, with 
 which both Tacitus and Suetonius stigmatize him, to "an enlightened economy, which, 
 in the disordered state of the Boman finances, was an absolute necessity." He could 
 be abundantly " liberal to impoverished senators and knights, to cities and towns deso- 
 lated by natural calamity, and especially to men of letters and of the professor class, 
 several of whom he pensioned with salaries of as much as £800 a year." He was a blunt, 
 plain soldier, without distinguished bearing, and perhaps for that very reason a greater 
 favorite with the army and the common people. " By his own example of simplicity of 
 life he put to shame the luxury and extravagance of the Boman nobles, and initiated in 
 many respects a marked Improvement In the general tone of society," while devoting 
 much thought to the spread and promotion of those Intellectual tastes vrlth which he 
 was not personally in sympathy. 
 
 55— page 523. The tragic fate of Sabat Is a matter of history, tho the story of the 
 dead bride Is a legendary attachment. Josephus tells us that he " was one Jesus, the 
 son of Ananus, a plebeian and a husbandman, who four years before the war began, 
 and at a time when the city was in very great peace and prosperity, came to that feast 
 whereon it Is our custom for every one to make tabernacles to God in the Temple, and 
 began on a sudden to cry aloud : ' A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice 
 from the four winds, a voice against Jerusalem and the holy house, a voice against the 
 bridegroom and the bride, and a voice against this whole people.' This was his cry as 
 he went about by day and by night, in all the lanes of the city." The efforts of the 
 people and even of the Roman procurator to suppress his cry were unavailing ; and 
 when the scourge was applied, at every stroke of the whip his answer was : " Wo, wo 
 to Jerusalem 1 " " This cry was the loudest at the festivals ; and he continued this 
 ditty for seven years and five months, without growing hoarse or being tired therewith, 
 until the very time that he saw his presage in earnest fulfilled in our siege, when It 
 ceased ; for as he was going round on the wall, he cried out with his utmost force, ' Wo, 
 wo to the dty again, and to the people, and to the holy house I ' And just as he added at 
 the last, * Wo, wo to myself also I ' there came a stone out of one of the engines, and 
 smote him, and killed blm immediately ; and, as he was uttering the very same presage, 
 he gave up ttie ghost." 
 
 69— page 531. Josephus gives a somewhat detailed account of the final struggle and 
 of the burning of the Temple. After sharp conflict and setting fire to the doors and 
 outer courts of the Temple, Titus retired into the tower of Antonla, and " resolved to 
 storm the Temple the next day, early in the morning, with his whole army, and to en- 
 camp round about the holy house." The Jews, however, after a little, attacked the 
 Romans, who drove back those that were quenching the fire in the inner court of the 
 Temple, and those that guarded the holy house, and pursued them as far as the Holy 
 Place itself. The record is that at this time, on the tenth day of the month Ab, the day 
 on which it was formerly burned by the king of Babylon, " one of the soldiers, without 
 staying for any orders, and without any concern or dread upon him at so great an un- 
 dertaking, and being hurried on by a certain divine fury, snatehed somewhat out of the 
 materials that were on fire, and being lifted up by another soldier, he set fire to a golden 
 window or lattice, through which there was a passage to the rooms that were round 
 
 949 
 
Bppendis 
 
 about the boly house, on the north side of it. As the flames went upward, the Jews 
 made a great clamor, such as so might; an affliction required, and ran together to pre- 
 vent It ; and now they spared not their lives any longer, nor suffered anything to restrain 
 their force, since that holy bouse was perishing, for whose sake it was that kept guard 
 about it." 
 
 The utmost efforts of Titus to save the sacred building were utterly vain. " The 
 legionaries either could not or would not bear ; they rushed on, trampling each other 
 down in their furious haste, or, stumbling over the crumbling ruins, perished with the 
 enemy. Each exhorted the other, and each burled his blazing brand into the inner 
 part of the edifice, and then hurried to the work of carnage. The unarmed and de- 
 fenseless people were slain in thousands ; they lay heaped, like sacrifices, round the 
 altar ; the steps of the Temple ran with streams of blood, which wasbed down tbe 
 bodies which lay upon it." 
 
 5S0 
 
JESUS OF NAZARETH FROM THE PRESENT 
 JEWISH POINT OF VIEW 
 
 In this age and land, Jew and Christian seem destined at last 
 to give one another the glad hand. The old spirit of misunder- 
 standing and often of hate (which to our shame — more to the 
 shame of the Christian than of the Jew — has now lasted nearly 
 a score of centuries), in this light of noon, now and here, is in- 
 tolerable. At the dawn of the twentieth century, antisemilism in 
 America, even the feeblest whisper of it, is an anachorism, and 
 an anachronism of the grossest sort. 
 
 That spirit was natural enough with the church of the early 
 ages, for the church, nearly all of it, was simply the pagan tiger 
 baptized, and labels changed, but not the nature of the beast. 
 The Christ that was presented to the Jew the Jew did well to 
 hate, for he was a Christ of barbaric cruelty, a monster who 
 drove millions of Jews through Are and starvation, out of the 
 world, and this entire people for ages from their homes and coun- 
 tries. If the Jews had not hated and spit on the very name of 
 that Christ, they had been more or less than human. 
 
 Among this people the ties of kinship are especially strong, so 
 that when a wrong is done to one, no other flame is needed to 
 make the blood of all boil. With the million of fires burning to 
 death their martyred brethren, quite naturally the air grew too 
 thick with smoke, and their eyes too sore with weeping, for^them 
 to see any of the beauty of the Cross. Talk of the sweetness of 
 that Christ was hideous mockery to them. I too would join with 
 them and spit on such a Christ. But now the smoke is getting 
 out of the air, and the Jew, like the rest of us, is beginning to 
 see the real Jesus of the Gospels, and he also, like the rest of us 
 when we see Him aright, can not but respect, admire, love Him — 
 claim Him as one of his own people, saying, with Eabbi Henry 
 Berkowitz, of Philadelphia, this Jew, Jesus, "is the greatest, 
 nob] est rabbi of them all," and as the famous Jewish writer, Max 
 Nordau, touchingly says, " He is one of us." 
 
 651 
 
appen&i£ 
 
 Yes, we are living in a better land and in a better time. Here 
 both Christian and Jew clasp the folds of the same flag and say, 
 Our Country, and both look up to the one God, the God of Abra- 
 ham, Isaac, and Jacob, and say. Our Father ; and may not both, 
 by and by, look to this Jew, Jesus of Nazareth, and say, Our 
 Brother? 
 
 "Within the past two years I have written to a number of 
 representative Jews, residing in different parts of the world, ask- 
 ing the question, WHAT IS THE JEWISH THOUGHT TO- 
 DA Y OF JES US OF NAZABETHf The inquiry was accom- 
 panied with a copy of the letter from Dr. Kohler, which is here 
 published as the first of the series. There are utterances in some 
 of these published replies that may strike strangely and discord- 
 antly on orthodox Christian hearts. It will be well for all 
 such to ponder the following letter, here given as prefatory to 
 the other replies. It is from the pen of Dr. Singer, a well-known 
 Jewish scholar, the originator and now the managing editor of 
 the Jewish Encyclopedia : 
 
 A LETTER FROM ISIDORE SINGER, Ph.D. 
 
 "It has been both a privilege and a pleasure to me to examine 
 in the orig^al manuscript the letters which are printed on the 
 following pages. They are all from representative Jewish 
 scholars, theologians, historians, and philosophers, well and 
 most favorably known in the scientific world of Europe and 
 America. Where it has been necessary to abbreviate for lack of 
 space, I find that the work has been done in a way that does no 
 injustice to the writer. No one is made to say, by faulty trans- 
 lation, or abridgment, or otherwise, what he does not intend to 
 say. It is my hope and most ardent desire that these utterances 
 may greatly help to make known to the Christian world the real 
 heart and mind of my brethren. I am glad to be permitted to 
 add a thought or two of my own. 
 
 "I regard Jesus of Nazareth as a Jew of the Jews, one whom 
 all Jewish people are learning to love. His teaching has been an 
 immense service to the world in bringing Israel's God to the 
 knowledge of hundreds of millions of mankind. 
 
 "The great change in Jewish thought concerning Jesus of 
 Nazareth, I can not better illustrate than by this fact : 
 
 ' ' When I was a boy, had my father, who was a very pious man, 
 heard the name of Jesus uttered from the pulpit of our synagog, 
 
 553 
 
Jesus ot masatetb from tbe ptesent 5ewl8b point of Wfew 
 
 he and every other man in the congregation would have left the 
 building, and the rabbi would have been dismissed at once. 
 
 "Now, it is not strange, in many synagogs, to hear sermons 
 preached eulogistic of this Jesus, and nobody thinks of protest- 
 ing, — ^in fact, we are all glad to claim Jesus as one of our people. 
 
 "ISIDORE SINGER." 
 New Forfc, March 25, 1901. 
 
 LETTEEIS FROM REPRESENTATIVE JEWS 
 
 [Omissions from letters indicated by ellipses have l)een made necessary because ot 
 lack of space. In another form, at no distant date, it is tbe expectation that these and 
 similar letters will be published In full. No letter from a Jew who is known to be a 
 Christian convert is bere Kiren ; bence those portions of letters that discuss the divinity 
 of Christ have generally been omitted.] 
 
 From KAUFMANN KOHLER, Ph.D., Rabbi o£ Temple Beth-El, New 
 York: 
 
 The true history of Jesus is so wrapped up in myth, the story of his 
 life told in the gospels so replete with contradictions, that it is rather 
 difBcnlt for the unbiased reader to arrive at the true historical facts. 
 StP' the beautiful tales about the things that happened around the lake 
 of Jilee show that there was a spiritual daybreak in that dark comer 
 of Judea of which ofQcial Judaism had failed to take sufficient cogni- 
 zance. " The stone that the builders rejected has become the corner- 
 stone " of a new world. 
 
 It is assumed by entire Christendom that the Jews in rejecting Jesus 
 Christ brought upon themselves everlasting doom, the inexorable fate 
 of exile, persecution, and hatred. This view is based upon the cruci- 
 flxion story in the gospel records, which, while shielding the Romans, 
 maligns the Jews, and is incompatible with the simple facts of the Jew- 
 ish law, the older Christian tradition, with common sense, and with the 
 established character of Pontius Pilate, a very tiger in human shape. 
 Siu'ely the records of the trial demand a revision. 
 
 "Did the Jews Reject Christ?" Most assuredly the weird and 
 visionary figure of the dead and rerisen Christ, the orucifled Messiah 
 lifted up to the clouds there to become a partaker of God's nature — a 
 metaphysical or mythological principle of the cosmos — the Jews did 
 reject. They would not, let it cost what it may, surrender the doctrine 
 of the unity and spirituality of God. Jesus, the living man, the teacher 
 and practiser of the tenderest love for God and man, the paragon of 
 piety, humility, and self-surrender, whose very failings were born of 
 overflowing goodness and sympathy with the afflicted, the Jews had no 
 
 553 
 
append!: 
 
 canse to reject. He was one of the best and truest sons oii the syna- 
 gog. Did he not say, " I have not come to destroy the law, but to ful- 
 fil it"? What reason had the Jews for hating and persecutijig him who 
 had nothing of the rigidity of the schoolman, none of the pride of the 
 philosopher and recluse, nor even the implacable zeal of 'the ancient 
 prophet to excite the popular wrath ; who came only to weep with the 
 Borrowing, to lift up the downtrodden, to save and to heal ? He was a 
 man of the people; why should the people have raised theory, "Crucify 
 him !" against him whose only object )■* Ufe was to bring home the 
 message of God's love to the humblest o^ ^s children ? iNor, in fact, 
 was he the only one among the popular preachers of the time who in 
 unsparing language and scathing satire exposed and caatigated the abuses 
 of the ruling priesthood, the worldly Sadducees, as well as the hypoc- 
 risy and false piety of some of the Pharisean doctors of the law. His 
 whole manner of teaching, the so-called Lord's Prayer, the Golden Rule, 
 the code of ethics expounded for the elect ones In the Sermon on the 
 Mount, no less than his miraculous cures, show him to have been one of 
 the Essenes, a popular saint. 
 
 But he was more than an ordinary teacher and healer of men. He 
 went to the very core of religion and laid bare the depths of the human 
 soul. As a veritable prophet, Jesus, in such striking manner, dis- 
 claimed allegiance to any of the Pharisean schools and asked for no au- 
 thority but that of the living voice within, while passing judgment on 
 the law, in order to raise life to a higher standard. He was a bold 
 religious and social reformer, eager to regenerate Judaism. Ttv.°. a 
 large number of sayings were attributed to the dead master by his .s- 
 ciples which had been current in the schools. Still, the charm of true 
 originality is felt in these utterances of his when the great realities of 
 life, when the idea of Sabbath, the principle of purity, the value of a 
 human soul, of woman, even of the abject sinner, are touched upon. 
 None can read these parables and verdicts of the Nazarene and not be 
 thrilled with the joy of a truth unspelled before. There is wonderful 
 music in the voice which stays an angry crowd, saying, " Let him that is 
 without sin cast the first stone 1 " that speaks the words, " Be like chil- 
 dren, and you are not far from the kingdom of God ! " 
 
 "Bid the Jbws Reject Christ?" Jesus anticipated a reign of per- 
 fect love, but centuries of hatred came. Could the Jews, victims of 
 Christian intolerance, look with calmness and admiration upon Jesus, 
 in whose name all the atrocities were perpetrated? Still, the leading 
 thinkers of Judaism willingly recognized that the founder of the Chris- 
 tian Church, as well as that of Islamism, was sent by divine Providence 
 io prepare the pagan world for the Messianic kingdom of truth and 
 righteousness. 
 
 The Jew of to-day beholds in Jesus an inspiring ideal of matchless 
 beauty. While he lacks the element of stern justice expressed so forci- 
 bly in the law and in the Old-Testament characters, the firmness of self- 
 assertion so necessary to the full development of manhood, all those 
 
 554 
 
Jesus of IHasarctb from tbe present Jewlsb point of View 
 
 social qualities which build up the home and society, industry and 
 worldly progress, he is the unique exponent of the principle of redeem- 
 ing love. His name as helper of the poor, as sympathizing friend of the 
 fallen, as brother of every fellow sufferer, as lover of man and redeemer 
 of woman, has become the inspiration, the symbol, and tbe watchword 
 for the work's greatest achievements in the field of benevolence. While 
 continuing the work of the synagog, the Christian Church with the 
 larger meane at her disposal created those institutions of charity and 
 redeeming love that accomplished wondrous things. The very sign of 
 the cross has lent a new meaning, a holier pathos to suffering, sickness, 
 and sin, so as to offer new practical solutions for the great problems of 
 evil which fill the human heart with new joys of self-sacriflcing love. 
 
 All this madem Judaism gladly acknowledges, reclaiming Jesus as 
 one of its greatest sons. But it denies that one single man, or one 
 church, however broad, holds the key to many-sided truth. It waits for 
 the time when all life's deepest mysteries will have been spelled, and 
 to the ideals of sage and saint that of the seeker of all that is good, 
 beautiful, and true will have been joined ; when Jew and Gentile, syn- 
 agog and church, will merge into the Church universal, into the great 
 city of humanity whose name is " God is there." 
 
 August SS, 1899. 
 
 From MORITZ FRIEBLXNDER, Ph.D., author of "Patristische und 
 Talmudische Studien," "Das Judenthum in der vorohristlichen 
 griechischen Welt," etc., Vienna, Austria: 
 
 . . . The synagog of primitive Christianity was the direct offspring 
 of the Jewish synagog. Here, too, the center of sublime, divine service 
 which powerfully influenced the simple and pious souls, was Moses and 
 the prophets, hallowed, in addition, by the splendor of the invisibly 
 ruling Messiah. 
 
 In this synagog originated a new Israel, which silently and noise- 
 lessly prospered beside "the burden of the law," which killed the spirit 
 of the Mosaic doctrine and prepared the ossification and dwarfing of 
 Judaism. 
 
 This synagog was a true house of God, which made all those who 
 entered it enthusiastic for a pure Mosaism, whose principal doctrine was 
 the love of God and the love of man. Here every one, through teaching 
 and learning, invigorated himself, and even the most simple-minded 
 visitor left the house as an enthusiastic apostle. In short, it was a syn- 
 agog to which, if it existed to-day, all hearts would be drawn and 
 around which the entire enlightened Judaism of to-day would gather. 
 And Jesus himself, who was the starting-point of the synagog of the 
 Messianic community, who fertilized and rejuvenated it by the sub- 
 lime Messianic idea, was proclaimed as divine Redeemer because of 
 this rejuvenation, as well as because of the redemption undertaken 
 
 655 
 
appen&lE 
 
 by him, on the Palestinian soil, from the "unsupportable burdens" 
 which the Pharisee teachers imposed on the people (Matt, xxlii. 4). 
 
 Always higher, on to unapproaohableness grew his perscnality, in- 
 cluding all that is beautiful, lofty, sublime, and divine, a^d forcing 
 every one to adoration and self-nobilization. This divinfe "Son of 
 Man" became the world-ideal, and this sublime ideal hasjbeen origi- 
 nated in Judaism, which will ever be remembered as having been pre- 
 destined by Providence to bring forth such a creation. 
 
 November 6, 1899, 
 
 From MORRIS JASTROW, Jr. , Ph.D., Professor of Semitio Languages, 
 TJniversity of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Pa. -. 
 
 From the historic point of view, Jesus is to be regarded as a direct 
 successor of the Hebrew prophets. His teachings are synonymous with 
 the highest spiritual aspirations of the human race. Like the prophets, 
 he lays the chief stress upon pure conduct and moral ideas, but he goes 
 beyond the prophets in his absolute indifference to theological specula- 
 tions and religious rites. It is commonly said that the Jews rejected 
 Jesus. They did so in the sense in which they rejected the teachings of 
 their earlier prophets, but the question may be pertinently asked, Has 
 Christianity accepted Jesus 7 Neither our social nor our political system 
 rests upon the principles of love and charity, so prominently put forward 
 by Jesus. 
 
 The long hoped-for reconciliation between Judaism and Christianity 
 will come when once the teachings of Jesus shall have become the axioms 
 of human conduct. 
 
 Noveiriber 6, 1899. 
 
 From BARON DAVID VON GtJNZBURG, St. Petersburg. Russia; 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth sought to regenerate the common people of Galilee 
 by infusing into them the moral teaching of the academies ; and to this 
 end he stripped the religious ideal of its scientific garb. Understood 
 perfectly by those who listened to him, his simple language, neverthe- 
 less, proved a stumbling-block for those who had not known him, but 
 who desired, aftei his death, to commune with his apostles. They 
 construed current phrases as predicating actual entities, and having thus 
 created a certain type of Messiah, it therefore devolved upon succeeding 
 ages, under the influence of controversy and in the ardor of religious 
 polemics, to harmonize at once all the genuine traditions, all the ill- 
 understood and ill-reported addresses made by him, all his noble aspira- 
 tions which later generations failed to comprehend, and to bring them 
 all into accord with the ardent faith of new converts as well as with the 
 Bible texts relative to the Messiah. 
 
 Septeinber $9, 1899. 
 
 556 
 
Jesus of masaretb trom tbe iprcsent Jcwlsb ©olnt ot lOiew 
 
 From PROF. DAVID CASTBLLI, author of "Storia degli Israeliti," 
 Florence, Italy : 
 
 . . . Jesns in a certain sense fulfilled in his person the prophecies of 
 the Old Testament ; they reached in him a height beyond which it is 
 impossible to go. He was not the magnificent worldly king, since there 
 could be no question of a worldly king in Israel again, for whom the 
 Hebrews waited in vain ; but he was the great teacher of mankind, 
 spreading among all nations that principle of love and humanity which, 
 until then, had remained confined within the limits of Judaism. His 
 word, and after him that of the Apostles, who, like himself, were born 
 and reared in Judaism, were a powerful means of carrying into effect the 
 yet unfulfilled prophecy of the Old Testament : "The Lord will be King 
 of all the earth ; in that day God will be one and his name one." 
 
 September S8, 1899. 
 
 From MARCUS JASTEOW, Ph.D., Rabbi Emeritus of Rodeph- 
 Shalom Congregation, Philadelphia, Pa., Author of the "Dic- 
 tionary of the Talmud," etc. ; 
 
 The thoughtful Jews of all days, and especially of modem tendency 
 of thought, see in Jesus, as depicted in the New Testament, the expo- 
 nent of a part of the ethics of Judaism, and more especially of its milder 
 side— love and charity. The ethical sayings of Jesus reflect titie con- 
 ception of Judaism in his own period, as it was current among its 
 spiritual leaders, such as Hillel, Rabbi Akiba, Ben Zoma, and others. 
 To a heathen world merged in vice and crime, to a civilization that led 
 the thoughtful among Romans and Greeks toward the abyss of pessimism 
 and despair, Christianity offered the bright prospect of forgiveness and 
 reconciliation with goodness. For the Jews it had no mission, no new 
 gifts to offer. Its ethics appear to the modern Jew one-sided and exag- 
 gerated ; the sense of justice appears to be pushed into the background 
 in favor of an unrealizable ideal of love. 
 
 Judaism prohibits revenge and the bearing of grudge, commands the 
 assistance of an enemy in distress, but " to love one's enemy " appears to 
 the modern Jew a somewhat-morbid philanthropy that could never have 
 been seriously meant. To bear indignities with patience, "to be of the 
 insulted and not of the insulters," is a Jewish principle, but to offer the 
 right cheek to him who slaps you on the left, to offer the undergarment 
 to him who takes away your cloak — no, we will not and we can not do 
 it. Hence it is that we Jews, of our modem days, speak of Jesus with 
 that respect which all high-minded dreamers of all ages and nations 
 inspire, even though we can not accept all their ideas and ideals, and 
 are mindful of the fact that it is to noble dreamers that humanity is in- 
 debted for its most precious possessions. 
 
 September 4, 1899. 
 
 667 
 
Bppendfi 
 
 From I6MILE Ll6VT, Chief Rabbi, Bayonne, France : 
 
 Wide as the diflerence may be in certain essential points between 
 Christianity and Judaism, yet the former approaches the latter throagh 
 its origin, and a common basis which is love of God and man. In 
 proclaiming the superiority of spirit over matter, and the principle of 
 immortality of the soul and of a future life ; in exhorting mankind in 
 a touching and poetical language, ever trying to come nearer the divine 
 example by a charitable, humble, modest, and pure life, Christ has 
 rendered immense services to humanity and to the cause of progress and 
 civilization, for he thus spread the Jewish doctrine, which aims at a con- 
 tinual improvement of the individual and of society, and contributes to 
 the preparation of the Messianic era and of the brotherhood of the nations. 
 October S4, 1899. 
 
 From HENRY BERKOWITZ, D.D., Rabbi of Rodeph Shalom Con- 
 gregation, Founder and Chancellor of the Jewish Chautauqua 
 Society, Philadelphia, Fa. : 
 ... To me one of the saddest and most tragic facts in history is this, 
 that Jesus, the gentlest and noblest rabbi of them all, should have be- 
 come lost to his own people by reason of the conduct of those who called 
 themselves bis followers. In Jesus there is the very flowering of Juda- 
 ism. What pathos, then, in the fact that his own people have been made 
 to shun his very name ; that even to-day they speak it with bated breath, 
 because it has been made to them a symbol and a synonym of all that is 
 unjewish, unchristian — irreligious. . . . 
 Ncmember 1, 1899. 
 
 From JOSEPH BEINACH, Paris, France, formerly Member of the 
 Chamber of Deputies, and editor-in-chief of La Bipvibliqut 
 FranQaise ; Secretary to Gambetta, and editor of Gambetta's 
 works : 
 . . . The characteristic mark of Jesns's moral is love, the purest and 
 noblest love that ever existed — love for all human creatures, love for 
 the poor, love for the wicked. Love is joy, and love is duty, and love 
 is life. Humanity, since its first day and to its last day, was and will 
 be thirsty for love, and Jesus is and will remain one of the highest, if 
 not the highest, type of humanity, because his words, and his legend, 
 and his poetry are and will be an eternal source of love. 
 Noverriber S8, 1899. 
 
 FromCESAEB LOMBROSO, Professor of Psychiatry and Criminology, 
 University of Turin, Italy : 
 In my eyes Jesus is one of the greatest geniuses the world has pro- 
 duced, but he was, like all geniuses, somewhat unbalanced, anticipating 
 
 658 
 
}esu6 ol flasaretb from tbe present Jewteb point of IDiew 
 
 by ten centuries the emancipation of the slave, and by twenty centuries 
 socialism and the emancipation oJE woman. He did not proceed by a 
 precise, systematic demonstration, but through short sentences and by 
 leaps and bounds, so that without the downfall of the Temple, and with' 
 out the persecutions of the Christians under Nero, his work would have 
 been lost. . . . 
 September S9, 1899. 
 
 From MAX NORDAU, M.D., critic and philosopher, Paris, France: 
 . . . Jesus is soul of our soul, as he is flesh of our flesh. Who, then, 
 could think of excluding him from the people of Israel ? St. Peter will 
 remai n the only Jew who said of the son of David, " I know not the man." 
 If the Jews up to the present time have not publicly rendered homage to 
 the sublime moral beauty of the figure of Jesus, it is because their tor- 
 mentors have always persecuted, tortured, assassinated them in his name. 
 The Jews have drawn their conclusions from the disciples as to the 
 master, which was a vrrong, a wrong pardonable in the eternal victims 
 of the implacable, cruel hatred of those who called themselves Christians. 
 Every time that a Jew mounted to the sources and contemplated Christ 
 alone, without his pretended faithful, he cried, with tenderness and ad- 
 miration : "Putting aside the Messianic mission, this man is ours. He 
 honors our race and we claim him as we claim the Gospels — flowers of 
 Jewish literature and only Jewish. . . ." 
 
 From ISIDORE HARRIS, M.A., Rabbi of West London Synagog of 
 British Jews, London, England : 
 
 It seems to me that the truest view of Jesus is that which regards him 
 as a Jewish reformer of a singularly bold type. In his days, Judaism 
 had come to be overlaid with formalism. The mass of rabbinical laws 
 that in the course of centuries had grown round the Torah of Israel 
 threatened to crush out its spirit. Jesus protested against this tendency 
 with all the energy of an enthusiast. Ceremonial can never be anything 
 more than a means to an end — that end being the realization of the 
 higher life of communion with God. The rabbinical doctors of the 
 law were inclined to treat it as an end in itself, and this Jesus saw 
 was a mistake. In taking up this position, he was simply following in 
 the path that had already been marked out centuries before by the He- 
 brew prophets. 
 
 October 17, 1899. 
 
 From JECHESKIEL CARD, Ph.D., Chief Rabbi, Lemberg, Austria: 
 
 Primitive Christianity, as Jesus of Nazareth taught and preached it, 
 
 is not at all different from the ethical principles of Judaism. He him- 
 
 559 
 
appendix 
 
 self proclaimed that he did not come to destroy the law. In morality 
 and the love of God and man (Deut. vi. 5 ; Matt. xxii. 37 ; Lev. xvii. 18 ; 
 Matt. xxii. 39) are contained the real essence and the categorical im- 
 perative of religion. . . . 
 October 18, 1899. 
 
 FromN. PORGES, Ph.D., Rabbi, Leipsic, Germany: 
 
 Even the most conscientious Jew may, without hesitation, recognize 
 that in view of the immense eSect and success of his life, Jesus has be- 
 come a figure of the highest order in the history of religion, and that 
 the noble man, the pure character, the mild heart-winning personality, 
 come forth unmistakable even from the mythical cover which sur- 
 rounds his person. The fact that Jesus was a Jew should, I think, in 
 oar eyes, rather help than hinder the acknowledgment of his high sig- 
 nificance, and it is completely incomprehensible to me why a Jew should 
 think and speak about Jesus otherwise than with the highest respect, 
 although we, as Jews, repudiate the belief in his Messianic character 
 and his divine humanity with the utmost energy, from innate convic- 
 tion. 
 September iS, 1899. 
 
 From the late JAMES H. HOFFMAN, Founder and first President of 
 the Hebrew Technical Institute, New York City : 
 
 . . . I revere him (Jesus) for having brought home by his own life and 
 his teachings, to the innermost hearts and souls of mankind, of all times, 
 In every station, the eternal truths as first embodied in the Mosaic code 
 and proclaimed in undying words by the prophets. I recognize in him 
 the blending of the divine and human, the lofty and lowly, showing the 
 path for the dual nature of man, by divine aspirations to gain the vic- 
 tory over the earthly life, tending to draw him downward — the Son of 
 God triumphing over the child of the earth. . . . 
 
 October 6, 1899. 
 
 From ADOLF BRUELL, Ph.D., Editor " Popular-Wi^sench^faiche 
 MonatsbldMer," Frankfort-on-the-Main, Germany : 
 ... In Christianity, as it is represented in the Gospels, the sublime 
 doctrines of Judaism, if we subtract the dogmas, find their most beauti- 
 ful expression. If we deduct the purely human additions, as well in 
 Judaism where they take the form of observances, as in Christianity, 
 where they crystallize themselves into dogmas, we find that there is no 
 real antagonism between the two. And how could it be otherwise, for 
 did not Jesus stand upon the ground of biblical and prophetical Judaism? 
 
 The fact that love, the highest religious principle, has not yet fully pen- 
 
 560 
 
Jesus ot masarctb from tbe present Jewisb ©olnt ot Wiew 
 
 etrated Christianity, as is shown by the awful fanaticism of the Middle 
 Ages and the odious anti-Jewish movement of our own time, does not 
 alter the fact that Jesus promulgated a sublime doctrine which is in full 
 harmony with Judaism, and with which Christiiiuity must be entirely 
 imbued before it can be seriously called the religion of Christ 
 
 Judaism and Christianity both have still to go through a process of 
 purification as to law and dogma, and only after these separating walls 
 have fallen, will Jews and Christians, and with them all humanity, 
 on the terrain of pure morality and the spirit of the prophets, tender 
 one another forever the hand of brotherhood in the noble spirit of rec- 
 onciliation. 
 
 Meanwhile, it would be appropriate that honest and enthusiastic men 
 might form an alliance in order to reconcile Judaism and Christianity, 
 and for this purpose Jesus and the prophets would be rather genial helpers 
 than detractors. 
 
 October 10, 1899. 
 
 From THEODORE KEINACH, Ph.D., former President of the Soci^t^ 
 des Etudes Juives, Paris, France : 
 
 Although we know very little with certainty concerning the life and 
 teachings of Christ, we know enough of him to believe that, in morals 
 as well as in theology, he was the heir and continuator of the old proph- 
 ets of Israel. There is no necessary gap between Isaiah and Jesus, but it 
 is the misfortune of both Christianity and Judaism that a gap has been 
 eflected by the infiltration of heathen ideas in the one, and the stubborn 
 (only too explainable) reluctance of the other, to admit among its proph- 
 ets one of its greatest sons. I consider it the duty of both enlightened 
 Christians and Jews to endeavor to bridge over this gap. 
 
 Beoember 17, 1899. 
 
 From JACOB H. SCHIFF, New York City : 
 
 We Jews honor and revere Jesus of Nazareth &• we do our own proph- 
 ets who preceded him. By his martyrdom, his teachings have been em- 
 phajsized, and these are to this day I believe often better practised by 
 the descendants of the race he sprang from than by those who have 
 become the followers of Christ in name, but not in spirit, else the prej- 
 udice practised by the latter against Jews would not exist. . . . 
 
 September 5, 1899. 
 
 From M. LAZAKUS, Ph.D., late Professor of Philosophy, University 
 of Berlin, author of "Die Ethik des Judenthums," Meran, Aus- 
 tria: 
 ... I am of the opinion that we should endeavor with all possible 
 zeal to obtain an exact understanding of the great personality of Jesus 
 and to reclaim him for Judaism. 
 January U, 1901. 
 
 36 561 
 
Bppendts 
 
 I 
 ■3 
 
 I 
 
 ■3 
 
 .0 s 
 
 5 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 ^ 
 
 I .S I 
 
 t!0 
 
 (8 °" 
 
 ! 5:3:' § 
 
 S 
 
 2 2 ■ 
 a o 
 
 o to 
 
 ^1 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 a -^ 
 S § 
 
 g> 
 
 R DQ 
 
 J O 
 
 
 II 
 
 sp a 
 .93 
 
 O S 
 
 5 -a 
 
 ■2 ^ 
 
 
 ^ o 
 
 ■ssa.§ 
 
 25 
 
 6: ^5 
 
 ^ 00 
 
 si's 
 
 bo -fh 
 
 m ^ 
 
 ° a 
 
 go 
 
 o *^ 
 
 -a -3 
 
 2 £ 
 
 00 O 
 
 g a 
 
 _ ^ 
 1 1 
 
 o 
 
 GQ 
 
 ■2 2 .a 5 5 
 
 a s 
 
 s a 
 
 !3 Z 
 
 p ft 
 
 . o 
 
 ■33 
 
 5§ 
 > 
 
 » bO 
 
 ;^ a 
 
 gai 
 
 c o 
 
 
 
 
 •9'^ a 
 =J5 . 
 
 S O t4 □ 
 NouW 
 
 ¥1. 
 
 i 
 
 1:1:1 
 SSSgo 
 
 
 -1 A ® ® 
 
 « ^ StsS 
 n 
 
 
 lis 
 Ifel 
 
 III 
 
 563 
 
3esu6 ot masatctb from tbe ©resent 5ewl8b point of Wiew 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 QQ 
 
 o 
 
 1 3" g'gM'go .is 
 
 H 03 
 
 3 g^ m 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 a|o 
 
 fa a^ja'0 
 
 s-f!||||s 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 tsoSgSSss 
 
 =a232a*3 
 a AS.a.a » a< 
 
 
 
 
 ^ jSmja "^Sm .«S * : 
 
 (9 S 
 
 ZSgBfM . 
 fl=>a-gSaa 
 
 O a U'aS'g b S 
 
 563 
 
BppenOts 
 
 ■Prom SIMON WOLF, LL.D., former Consul of the United States to 
 Egypt, Vice-President of Order B'ne B'rith, Washington, I). C. : 
 
 I have not had the time nor the desire to investigate the alleged divin- 
 ity of the Christian Savior. I have, however, recognized the great in- 
 fluence his character and labors have exercised throughout the world. 
 If properly understood and if properly construed, I have no doubt what- 
 soever that what he aimed kt and labored for would prove of great benefit 
 to every human being. 1 look upon him, in short, as a great teacher 
 and reformer, one who aimed at the uplifting of suffiering humanity, 
 whose every motive was kindness, mercy, charity, and justice, and if 
 his wise teaching and example have not always been followed, the blame 
 should not be his, but rather those who have claimed to be his followers. 
 I have the very highest regard for him as a man who reflects in his say- 
 ings the divine Spirit, which after all is nothing more or less than a 
 reflex of the Jewish ethics in which be was so well grounded. 
 
 October 9, 1S99. 
 
 From H. WEINSTOCK, Sacramento, Cal. Extract from a letter to 
 Dr. K. Kohler: 
 
 [Tbe letter urges reasons why tbe life and sayings of Jesus should be taught in Jew- 
 ish Sabbath-schools. Dr. Kohler approves of the suggestion.] 
 
 With the growing enlightenment and the broadening atmosphere 
 under which the modern Jew lives, the progressive Jew looks upon the 
 Nazarene as one of Israel's great teachers, who has a potent influence 
 on civilization, whose words and deeds have left an undying imprint 
 upon the human mind, and have done heroic work toward universalizing 
 the God of Israel and the Bible. This change of sentiment toward Jesus 
 is largely due to the intelligent and progressive preaching of our modem 
 rabbis, who seem to appreciate the glory Jesus has shed upon the Jewish 
 name, and the splendid work he did in broadening the influence of the 
 Jewish teachings. But, despite all this, the fact remains, that, so far 
 as I know, not one Jewish Sabbath-school in the land teaches a single 
 word concerning Jesus of Nazareth. 
 
 To maintain a continued silence in the Jewish Sabbath-school on 
 Jesus would seem a grave error. . . . 
 
 The influence of "Jesus the Christ" may be diminishing in the ra- 
 tional world, but the influence of "Jesus the Man" is increasing daily 
 the world over, and no Jewish education can be complete that does not 
 embody within it a comprehensive knowledge of Jesus the Jew, his life, 
 his teachings, and the causes which led to his death. . . . 
 
 It would seem to be in the highest interest of the modem Tew and 
 Judaism that the curriculum of at least every reform Jewish babbath- 
 school should, from a purely historical standpoint, embrace a simple 
 yet comprehensible history of the life of Jesus, and its wonderful moral 
 
 664 
 
5eeus or masatctb tcom tbe pteaent Jcwlsb point of Wtew 
 
 and religious influence, in order that the rising Jews may be able to 
 appreciate better the powerful influence Judaic teachings and the Bible 
 have had upon civilization, and the exalted place given by the world 
 to one of their teachers and brethren, who lived a purely Jewish life 
 and taught only Jewish precepts. . . . 
 September Z6, 1899. 
 
 From GUSTAV GOTTHEIL, Ph.D., Rabbi Emeritus of Temple 
 Emanu-El, New York : 
 
 The keynote of prophetic religion of the Jewish prophets was holi- 
 ness of life and purity of heart. Love and mercy shown by men, one 
 to another, make up the acceptable worship of the Holy One of Israel. 
 To place the Master of Nazareth by their side can surely be no dishonor 
 to him, nor can it dim the luster of his name. If he has added to their 
 spiritual bequests new jewels of religious truth, and spoken words 
 which are words of life, because they touch the deepest springs of the 
 human heart, why should we Jews not glory in him? Show us the man, 
 help us to understand his mind, draw from his face the thick veil be- 
 hind which his personality has been buried for the Jewish life by the 
 heartless zeal of his so-called followers, and you will find the Jewish 
 heart as responsive to truth and light and love as that of all other na- 
 tions. The question whether Jesus suflered martyrdom solely for his 
 new teachings or for other causes, we will not discuss. The crown of 
 thorns on his head makes him only the more our brother. For to this 
 day it is borne by his people. Were he alive to-day, who, think yon, 
 would be nearer his heart — ^the persecuted or the persecutors ? 
 
 October S4, 1899. 
 
 From EMANUEL WEILL, Babbi of the Portuguese Congregation, 
 Paris, France : 
 
 I do not know the secret of God, but I believe that Jesus and Chris- 
 tianity were providential means, useful to the Deity in guiding all men 
 gradually, and by an effort, keeping pace with the mental state of the 
 majority of men from paganism up to the pure and true idea of the 
 divinity. 
 
 The error — one might almost say a fatal one — of Christianity is to 
 believe that it is an end in itself, whereas it is but a step, and as error 
 often generates evil, Christianity in its evolution toward its end has 
 effected side by side much good as well as much harm. 
 
 We Jews await the Christians on God's appointed day, when, all hu. 
 manity having become more enlightened, will rally to the spiritualistic 
 principle which is that of Judaism, viz. : that of the unity and the per- 
 fect spirituality of God, in opposition to any incarnation and to any 
 trinitarian idea whatever. 
 
 Meanwhile, I think that Jews and Christians, divided on the identi- 
 
 566 
 
appcnoij 
 
 fication of Jesus with God, but both in accord In acknowledging this 
 God the same for all, consider themselves children of the same Father, 
 and thus love one another with brotherly love. 
 October 11, 1899. 
 
 FromM. KAYSEELING, Ph.D., Rabbi, Budapest, Hungary: 
 
 The Jews rejected Jesus as the Messiah and Redeemer, but they rec- 
 ognized him as " the extraordinary man " who first showed to the heathen 
 world the way to natural religion and moral perfection. "The founder 
 of Christianity," says the pious and scholarly Jacob Emden of Altona, 
 who lived about the middle of the last century, "was a twofold bene- 
 factor to the world, since, on the one hand, he strengthened wi'^h all his 
 might the doctrine of Moses and insisted upon its eternal validity ; and, 
 on the other hand, drew heathens away from idolatry and obligated 
 them to observe the seven Koachian commandments to which he added 
 moral teachings. The alliance of the nations in our time can be re- 
 garded as an alliance to the glory of God, whose aim is to proclaim over 
 all the world that there is only one God who is Master in heaven and on 
 earth ; who rewards the good and punishes the evil." 
 
 This is the opinion of the immense majority of the Jews of our epoch 
 about Jesus of Nazareth, "the extraordinary man." We all look for- 
 ward to that sublime end when all human beings, prompted by the love 
 of fellow men, shall recognize God and worship Him in full harmony 
 and glory as the one only God. 
 November 20, 1899. 
 
 From DAVID PHILIPSON, D.D., Professor in Hebrew Union College, 
 Rabbi of Mound Street Temple, Cincinnati, Ohio : 
 
 There is no backwardness nor hesitancy on the part of modem Jewish 
 thought in acknowledging the greatness of the teacher of Nazareth, the 
 sweetness of his character, the power of his genius. But, as a matter 
 of course, we accord him no exceptional position as the flower of hu- 
 manity, the special incarnation of the Divinity. Judaism holds that 
 every man is the son of G«d. Jesus was a Jew of the Jews. The ortho- 
 dox Christianity of to-day he would scarcely recognize, as its chief 
 dogmas were unknown to himu 
 
 Sep«em6er 19, 1899. 
 
 From EMIL G. HIRSCH, Ph.D., LL.D., L.H.D., Rabbi of Sinai Con- 
 gregation, Professor of Rabbinical Literature in Chicago Uni- 
 versity, Chicago, 111. ; 
 . . . For me Jesus is an historical reality. To understand his 
 
 work and correctly to value his mission, one must bear in mind his own 
 
 time. Galilean as he was, he must have grown up under Influences 
 
 making for an intense Jewish patriotism. 
 
 5M 
 
Seaua of flasatctb ttom tbc ©resent Jewisb point of IDiew 
 
 . . . Under close analysis, his precepts will be found to contain noth- 
 ing that was new. There is scarce an expression credited to him but 
 has its analogon in the well-known sayings of the rabbis. He did not 
 pretend to found a new religion. The doctrines he developed were the 
 familiar truths of Israel's prophetic monotheism. Nor did his ethical 
 proclamation sound a note before unknown in the household of the syn- 
 agogue or in the schools. He was in method a wonderfully gifted Hag- 
 gadist. His originality lies in the striking form which he understood 
 to give to the old vitalities of his ancestral religion. He moved the 
 heart of the people. 
 
 . . . The Jews of every shade of religious belief do not regard Jesus 
 in the light of Paul's theology. But the gospel Jesus, the Jesus who 
 teaches so superbly the principles of Jewish ethics, is revered by all 
 the liberal expounders of Judaism. His words are studied ; the New 
 Testament forms a part of Jewish literature. Among the great precep- 
 tors that have worded the truths of which Judaism is the historical 
 guardian, none, in our estimation and esteem, takes precedence of the 
 rabbi of Nazareth. To impute to us suspicious sentiments concerning 
 him does us gross Injustice. We know him to be among our greatest 
 and purest. 
 
 January S6, 1901. 
 
 MEMORANDUM JOTTINGS 
 
 Here are some of the jottings which I find on my memorandum 
 pad, suggested by the reading of these Jewish letters — letters 
 which it would be difiBcult to read without feeling that at last Jew 
 and Christian, after a horrible nightmare of misunderstandings 
 centuries long, are coming to see that after all they are first 
 cousins, if not actually brothers. 
 
 1. Eight nobly is it in some of these Jewish writers to say that 
 Jesus is not to be blamed for those av^ul persecutions com- 
 mitted for ages in His name, and in reverse of His teachings. As 
 He foretold, many were called by His name whom He knew not, 
 and who knew not Him — false prophets who came ia sheep's 
 clothing, but were, within, ravening wolves. Sometimes these 
 wolves tore the Jews, sometimes they tore one another, and some- 
 times they tore the real CJ"'stians. But we live, all of us, in a 
 better time. The glowing sky is not sunset, but is sunrise — sun- 
 rise of a glorious day that is to reveal a far wider brotherhood 
 than the world ever heretofore has known. 
 
 2. Jewish friends, "Let the dead past bury its dead." All the 
 vrorld is bound to' realize sooner or later that your history has 
 
 667 
 
BppenMs 
 
 been of inestimable advantage to the world. Turn your faces to 
 that rapidly advanciag future. The divine reason will appear 
 for all the sorrows of the past ages, for all the persecutions, mis- 
 apprehensions, including the errors into which you and we have 
 fallen — largely because of these, not in spite of them, the Jewish 
 race will arise a purifled flame. 
 
 Look the future in the face. As SheUey has put it : " The past 
 is dead, and the future alone is living." Why not, aU of us, per- 
 mit the ashes to grow over the embers of hate, and let the raw- 
 ness of all wounds, real or imaginary, heal over ? Distance now 
 gives a wider survey and a juster survey to both Jew and 
 Christian. 
 
 Waste no time in denying hostility to Jesus nineteen hun- 
 dred years ago. Who alive to-day is to be blamed for that any 
 more than for the forty years of rebellion in the wilderness ? No 
 more are you to be blamed for the death of Jesus than are we to- 
 day to be blamed for Washington having held slaves, and for the 
 slave auction-block in the Nation's capital, and for the slave lash 
 a generation ago. 
 
 3. The Mosaic system of ceremonies, as seen before the de- 
 struction of Jerusalem, was beautiful. How mournfully are Jew- 
 ish eyes still fixed upon the broken shell. Friends, lift your eyes 
 and see what came out of that shell ; see in the boughs above, the 
 singing-bird of the civilization of to-day. Claim it all, for God 
 has given it to the world through your people. 
 
 From the matrix of the Jewish soul sprang Christianity. 
 Heine, the great Jewish writer of the last century, has wittily put 
 it: Half the civilized world worships a Jew, the other half a Jewess. 
 
 4. Come, children of the prophets, your home, for a season at 
 least, is in the West, not in the East. Let not your hearts longer 
 be troubled. Cease dragging about with you that monstrous 
 corpse of memory — the persecutions committed against you, no 
 matter how frightfully you have been misunderstood and 
 wronged. 
 
 Above all let it never be truly said that the Jew has suffered so 
 much, and come so far, now only to reap despair and bitterness. 
 There are two Jewish tendencies to-day, one to cold materialism, 
 the motto of which is ' ' make money, eat, drink, be merry, to-mor- 
 row ye die"; the other is upward, the path the prophets walked. 
 This latter tendency must be made to dominate. The time wUl 
 come, with many already here, when the Jew will turn again 
 to his sublime mission and say, like Agassiz, " I have not time 
 to make money." 
 
 668 
 
Jesus of masatctb from tbe ©resent Sewisb point of Wfew 
 
 Surely, the Jew of America is to be a regenerating educational 
 force to the Jews of all the world, and not to the Jews only. , It 
 does not yet appear fully what he shall be ; but in some way it 
 will appear that this mass of concentrated human energy will 
 arise above the commercial, the material, the sordid, which so 
 dominates much of the so-called Christian world. The Jewish 
 genius is essentially religious. The Jew will again come to him- 
 self and find his center, and God will vindicate His purpose 
 through this wonderful people from Abraham's time to the 
 present. 
 
 The Jew has grown strong by the law of the survival of the fit- 
 test. For eighteen centuries he has not known what security is, 
 always living by his resource of keenest wit — the feeblest dying 
 out. Those who were physically strong enough and mentally 
 clever enough, escaped destruction, and these became the parents 
 of the new and stronger generation. Thus the law of compensa- 
 tion works justice. For ages the Jew was compelled to be a 
 money-lender as the business of such an one was held to be dis- 
 reputable for Christians. Thus the Jew mastered the problems of 
 finance, and now when finance rules the world, the Jew is natur- 
 ally on the throne. The whirligig of time is twirled by a hand 
 that cares for justice. 
 
 5. How unseemly, impossible, that it should prove in the end 
 that they who have been to the world messengers of God, whose 
 feet have been beautiful upon the mountain-tops and who did eat 
 the bread of angels, should now forget their prophets and their 
 God and grovel in materialism, and seek to satisfy their hunger 
 with husks. No ; this can not be. This people have done too 
 glorious things for humanity, for such an ending. They have in 
 them the nobility that wiU assert itself. They are born for great 
 things yet to be ; they have been made in large molds. They, 
 like the best of us, have often slipped, but are now coming to 
 themselves. For one I am glad, and thank God for it. 
 
 Now will the Christian Church permit a friendly exhortation : 
 You have tried everything to get the Jewish people to understand 
 Jesus of Nazareth, except one thing, love. Try that, for they 
 believe in love ; and you believe in love. Let both Jew and 
 Christian get on this common ground, and have respect for the 
 honest convictions of one another, and then both may clasp 
 hands and look into each other's eyes, and repeat the words uttered 
 alike by Moses and by Jesus : 
 
 "Thb Lord OUE God is one God. And thou shalt love 
 
Sppendfi 
 
 HIM WITH ALL THY HEART, AND WITH Ait THY SOUL, AND 
 WITH ALL THY MIGHT." 
 
 The lightnings from Mount Sinai and the rays of light and 
 heat from Mount Calvary are one, and will yet fuse into brother- 
 hood all peoples of the earth. 
 
 I. K. F. 
 
 OTHER TESTIMONY TO JESUS 
 
 WILLIAM Mckinley. 
 
 [A Letter. Wasblngton, D.C., 1900.] 
 
 The religion which Christ founded has been a mighty influence in the 
 civilization of the human race. If we of to-day owed to it nothing 
 more than this, our debt of appreciation would be incalculable. The 
 doctrine of lore, purity, and right-living has step by step won its way 
 into the heart of mankind, has exalted home and family, and has filled 
 the future with hope and promise. 
 
 JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU. 
 [Complete Wokks. (Emillus.) Edinburgh : 1773, vol. IL, pp. S15-218.] 
 
 I will confess to you that the majesty of the Scriptures strikes me 
 with admiration, as the purity of the Gospel has its influence on my 
 heart. Peruse the works of our philosophers, with all their pomp of 
 diction; how mean, how contemptible are they, compared with the 
 Scriptures I Is it possible that the sacred personage whose history they 
 contain should be Himself a mere man ? . . . Where is the man, where 
 the philosopher, who could so live and die, without weakness, and with- 
 out ostentation ? When Plato describes his imaginary righteous man, 
 loaded with all the punishments of guilt, yet meriting the highest re- 
 wards of virtue, he describes exactly the character of Jesus Christ. 
 The resemblance is so striking that all the Church fathers perceived it. 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON. 
 
 [WORKS. Pmiadelphla : 1871, vol. Iv., p. 479.] 
 
 I am a Christian in the only sense in which He [Christ] wishes any 
 one to be : sincerely attracted to His doctrines, in preference to all 
 others ; ascribing to Him every human excellence, and believing He 
 never claimed any other. 
 
 670 
 
5CSUS ot IRasarctb ttom tbe pteaent 5ewt6b potnt of Wlew 
 
 WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE. 
 
 [Eetiew of Ecce Homo, from Gleahingb of Past Teaks. New Tort : 1879, toI. 
 
 111., pp. 84, 93.] 
 
 Through the fair gloss of His manhood, we perceive the rich bloom 
 of His divinity. If He is not now without an assailant, at least He is 
 without a rival. If He be not the Sun of Righteousness, the Friend 
 that gives His life for His friends and that sticketh closer than a brother, 
 the unfailing Consoler, the constant Guide, the everlasting Priest and 
 King, at least, as all must confess, there is no other to come into His 
 room. 
 
 JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE. 
 
 [Contebsations with XCKERUANir. Loadon : 1874, pp. 667-669.] 
 
 If I am asked whether it is in my nature to pay Him devout rever- 
 ence, I say, certainly. I bow before Him as the divine msmifestation 
 of the highest principles of morality. . . . liCt mental culture go on ad- 
 vancing, let the natural sciences go on gaining in depth and breadth, 
 and the human mind expand as it may, it will never go beyond the ele- 
 vation and moral culture of Christianity, as it glistens and shines forth 
 in the Gospel. . . . 
 
 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 
 
 [Prose Works. Boston : 1870, vol. 1., pp. 69, 70.] 
 
 Jesus Christ belonged to the true race of prophets. He saw with open 
 eye the mystery of the soul. Drawn by its severe harmony, ravished 
 with its beauty, He lived in it, and had His being there. Alone in all 
 history, He estimated the greatness of man. One man was true to what 
 is in you and me. He saw that God incarnated Himself in man, and 
 evermore goes forth anew to take possession of His world. . . . 
 
 FRANQOIS P. G. GUIZOT. 
 
 [Meditations on the essence or Christianitt. Now York : 1866, p. 320 et uq.'i 
 
 The supernatural being and power of Jesus may be disputed ; but the 
 perfection, the sublimity of His acts and precepts, of His life and His 
 moral law, are incontestable. And in epect, not only are they not con- 
 tested, but they are admired and celebrated enthusiastically, and com- 
 placently too ; it would seem as if it were desired to restore to Jesus 
 as man, and man alone, the superiority of which men deprived Him in 
 refusing to see In Him the Godhead. 
 
 571 
 
Bppendfs 
 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.* 
 
 [John S. C. Abbott's Life or Njlpoleon, toI. U., p. 612.] 
 
 Alexander, Csesar, Charlemagne, and myself founded empires. Bat 
 on what did yre rest the creations of our genius ? Upon force. Jesus 
 Christ alone founded His empire upon love, and at this hour, millions 
 of men would die for Him. . . . 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 [Leiteb to Fbesident Stiles or Yale College, March 9, 1790.] 
 
 I think His [Jesus Christ's] system of morals and religion as He left 
 them to us, the best the world ever saw, or is likely to see. 
 
 JEAN PAUL RICHTER. 
 
 [DAWNiNGS FOR GERMANY. Complete Works, pp. 33, 38.] • 
 
 It concerns Him who, being the holiest among the mighty, the might- 
 iest among the holy, lifted, with His pierced hands, empires off their 
 hinges, turned the stream of centuries out of its channel, and still gor- 
 ems the ages. 
 
 JOHN STUART MILL. 
 
 [THREE ESSAYS ON BELI6I0N. New York: 1871. pp. 2S3, 255.] 
 
 Religion can not be said to hare made a bad choice in pitching on 
 this man as the ideal representative and guide of humanity ; nor even 
 now would it be easy, eyen for an unbeliever, to find a better transla- 
 tion of the rule of virtue from the abstract into the concrete than to 
 endeavor so to live that Christ would approve our life. 
 
 THOMAS CARLTLE. 
 
 [Sartor Resartus, pp. 155, 158.] 
 
 If thou ask to what length man has carried it in this manner, look on 
 our divinest symbol, Jesus of Nazareth, and His life and His biography, 
 and what followed therefrom. Higher has the human thought not yet 
 reached : this Christianity and Christendom — a symbol of quite peren- 
 nial infinite character, whose significance will ever demand to be anew 
 inquired into, and anew made manifest. . . . 
 
 "mis testimony from Napoleon bas been much disputed. Dr. Pblllp Schafl, 
 welKblng the arKoment lor and against, sajrs that be believes that It Is authentic In 
 substance. 
 
 672 
 
Jeaug ot masaretb trom tbe present Jewlsb point ot Wtew 
 
 WILLIAM B. LECKY. 
 
 [HISTOET OF EUBOPEAN UORAIS. London : 1869, vol. IL, p. B.] 
 
 It may be truly said that tbe simple record of three short years of 
 active life has done more to regenerate and soften mankind than all the 
 disquisitions of philosophers and all the exhortations of moralists. 
 This has, indeed, been the wellspring of whatever is best and purest 
 in the Christian life. Amid all the sins and failings, amid all the 
 priestcraft and persecution and fanaticism, that have defaced the 
 Church, it has preserved, in the character and example of its Founder, 
 an enduring principle of regeneration. 
 
 JOSEPH ERNEST RENAN. 
 [Thb Life op Jesus. New Tork : 1864, pp. 21B, 365, 876, 876.] 
 
 He founded the pure worship — of no age, of no clime — which shall 
 be that of all lofty souls to the end of time. Not only was His religion 
 that day (John iv. 24) the benign religion of humanity, but it was the 
 absolute religion ; and if other planets have inhabitants endowed with 
 reason and morality, their religion can not be different from that which 
 Jesus proclaimed at Jacob's well. . . . 
 
 Whatever may be the surprises of the future, Jesus will never be sur- 
 passed. His worship will grow young without ceasing; His legend will 
 call forth tears without end ; His sufferings will melt the noblest hearts ; 
 all ages will proclaim that among the sons of men there is none bom 
 greater than Jesus. 
 
 SRI 
 
THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST— A SUC- 
 CDSrCT HISTORY 
 
 BY DANIEL SBBLYB GEEGOEY. D.D., LL.D. 
 
 The legend of "The Wandering Jew," in its various forms, has its 
 basis in the doctrine of the Second Coming of Christ, or of His personal 
 return to this world. This is true of the form of the legend that under- 
 lies Croly's romance, the Lord Himself having given assurance of His 
 return to the hero of the work and the arch-plotter, in the words of 
 doom : "Tarry thou till I come ! " The doctrine of the Second Coming 
 has been accepted by the Christian Church and embodied in its creeds 
 in all ages. 
 
 The Second Advent finds its analog in many respects in the First 
 Advent, and that, not in its facts only, but in its difBculties as well. 
 According to the Old Testament, a great Eedeemer was to appear ; he 
 was to be a prophet, priest, and king, and was to deliver his people from 
 their sins and from their oppressors ; he was to set up a kingdom that 
 should become universal, absorbing all earthly kingdoms ; and he was 
 to exalt his people to the summit of prosperity and glory. These pre- 
 dictions turned the minds of the whole Jewish race toward the future, 
 in confident expectation of the coming Messiah, in whose birth and 
 career they all anticipated their fulfilment. Nevertheless, tho Christ 
 came indeed fulfilling prophecy, it was " in a way which no man did an- 
 ticipate or could have anticipated." 
 
 So the main features of the Second Advent have been prophetically 
 presented with like fulness, and yet, as of old, the Church has had to 
 remain "satisfied with the great truths which those prophecies unfold, 
 and leave the details to be explained by the event." 
 
 The many theories of the Second Coming of Christ and of the millen- 
 nium — or the thousand years' reign of Christ at the end of time, as 
 connecting with that coming — may be reduced to two, one based upon 
 the literal and the other upon the spiritual interpretation of the Scrip- 
 tures on this subject. 
 
 Ist. The lUer(U, or Chiliastic, notion of the millenniam, as held by 
 some Christians, was derived from the Jews, and was largely confined 
 originally to the converts from Judaism to Christianity. The Jewish 
 doctrine received its peculiar form from Eabbi Elias, who lived about 
 two centuries before the Christian era. According to this ante-Jewish 
 tradition : 
 
 "The world is to last seven thousand years — six thousand to be years 
 
 S74 
 
Zbe Second Coming of Cbrist— a Succinct Iblstocg 
 
 of toll and trouble, and the seventh thousand to be a grand Sabbatism. 
 It Is to be ushered in by the ac'vent of the Messiah, who is to establish 
 his throne at .lerusalem. The Holy City is to be rebuilt with surpass- 
 ing magnificence, as described by Tolit (xiii., xiv.); the Jews are to 
 return to Palestine ; their pious anoest rs are to be raised from the dead 
 and reign in their own land, wi*"! thdi-' ofEspring, under the Messiah" 
 (see T. O. Summers, in Johnson's "Universal Cyclopedia," article "Mil- 
 lennium"). 
 
 Some of the early Christians — like the early Jews, pressed with perse- 
 cutions and longing for temporal deliverance — adopted this literal view, 
 except that they modified it by recognizing Jesus as the true Messiah, 
 and by acknowledging the equality of Gentile -with Jewish believers in 
 the millennial age. The Thessalonian Christians, in particular, early 
 developed a tendency to the literal, Chiliastio interpretation, which was, 
 however, checked and corrected by Paul's letters to them. 
 
 But the first teacher who is clearly recorded as having adopted the 
 crude Jewish notion was Papias, Bishop of Hierapolis, in Phrygia; 
 altho Cerinthus, a heretic of the first century, is said to have held it. 
 According to Irenseus, Papias pretended to have received a glowing 
 tradition direct from the Apostle John embodying and enlarging all the 
 Jewish literalism. 
 
 In part it is to this eSect: "The days shall come in which there 
 shall be vines which shall severally have ten thousand branches, and 
 every one of these shall have ten thousand lesser branches, and every 
 one of these branches shall have ten thousand twigs, and every one of 
 these twigs shall have ten thousand clusters of grapes, and in every one 
 of these clusters shall be ten thousand grapes, and every one of these 
 grapes being pressed shall give twenty-five metretas of wine ; and when 
 a person shall take hold of one of these sacred bunches, another shall 
 cry out, ' I am a better bunch, take me, and by me bless the Lord. ' " 
 
 Irenseus reports similar fanciful traditions respecting extraordinary 
 temporal blessings dm'ing the millennial period. Papias taught that 
 Christ's reign on earth should be corporeal. In the main, Justin Mar- 
 tyr, IrensBus, Tertullian, Nepos, and Lactantius agree wi*H Papias, 
 teaching the Christians under their instruction these views, each vary- 
 ing the details according to his own fancy. 
 
 The disciples of Papias and their successors naturally pressed into 
 their service Rev. xx. I-IO, interpreting it with the baldest literalness. 
 
 The same method has been used by the later followers, who have 
 largely held to a literal, corporeal reign of Christ on earth for a thousand 
 years. There has often been coupled with this view — growing out of 
 Christ's teaching of the Imminestct of his Second Coming— a belief in 
 the Immediacy of that Coming. 
 
 2d. The usual or Catholic theory of the millennium has its basis in 
 the spiritual, rather than literal, interpretation of the Scriptures on this 
 subject. It rejects alike Jewish traditions and Patristic fancies. 
 
 According to this view, the number 1,000 is often employed in the 
 
 675 
 
ZlppenOis 
 
 Scriptures as "denoting a definite number for an indefinite." It is so 
 nsed manifestly in Psalm xo. 4, in 2 Peter iii. 8, and in Kev. xx. 1-7. 
 In the last passage, as has been often remarked, it is "evidently a defi- 
 nite number for an indefinite, " indicating a long period. The entire 
 passage is figurative, in keeping vrith the enigmatical book in which it 
 is found. The angel with the key of the abyss, a chain and a seal to 
 bind and confine the devil, thrones and the souls of martyrs seated upon 
 them, and judgment given to them — these are all "pictorial representa- 
 tions of the circumscription of Satan's power, the revival of the martyr 
 spirit In the Church, and the general prevalence of truth and righteous- 
 ness in the earth. This agrees with the figurative style of the Apoca- 
 lypse, and corresponds with the predictions concerning the prosperity 
 of the Church in the last days. In no other place is there any allusion 
 to a millennium." 
 
 This interpretation, it is held, is agreeable to the style of prophecy, 
 that is elsewhere employed in the Revelation (compare Isa. xxvi. 
 19 ; Ezek. xxxvii. 13, 14 ; Hos. vi. 2 ; Rev. xi. 7, 11). This spiritual 
 view also agrees with the paracletal work of Christ, while the Judaico- 
 Christian does not ; it is favorable to the efiorts of the Church for the 
 conversion of the world, and accords with the general teachings of the 
 Scriptures concerning "the last things." 
 
 But while the literal method has been to some extent followed, there 
 has been a common or Catholic Church-doctrine which, as will be seen, 
 has alone been embodied in the creeds of Christendom. That common, 
 ereedal, or Catkolic doctrine embraces the teachings that — 
 
 1st. The Second Advent of Jesus is to be a personal, visible, and 
 glorious advent as the Son of God. 
 
 2d. It is to be preceded by the universal diffusion of the Gospel, the 
 conversion of the Jews, and the coming of Antichrist. 
 
 3d. It is to be accompanied by the resurrection of the dead, just and 
 unjust, the general judgment, the end of the world, and the consumma- 
 tion of Christ's kingdom. 
 
 The cardinal passages of Scripture on this doctrine are Matthew xxio. 
 and the two Epistles to the TJiessalonians — the latter of which was appar- 
 ently rendered necessary by the development of the teachings in the 
 former. It is not possible to enter here into a detailed interpretation 
 of these passages. Had there been no extraneous influences at work, 
 what is claimed to be the simple and natural interpretation of these 
 Scriptures, which has always been in accord with the Catholic doctrine 
 embodied in the creeds, would probably have continued to be the faith 
 of all Christians. 
 
 The later-Jewish doctrine of the Messianic kingdom upon earth was 
 a main influence in directing the new development. The disciples being 
 Jews were naturally infected with this view, and did not rise above it 
 till after the experiences of Pentecost. 
 
 Millenarianism or Chiliasm naturally arose out of sympathy with 
 this Jewish materialism, and spread to some extent among the Jewish 
 
 576 
 
tTbe Second Gomittd ot Cbtfst— 21 Succinct 'fiistocs 
 
 Christians in the early Church. There was also introduced the doctrine 
 of two resurrections, based on the literal understanding of Eev. xx., un- 
 modified by the teachings of Jesus in Matt. xxiv. With the Second 
 Advent of Christ, according to this Tiew, is to take place the first resur- 
 rection, that of the righteous dead at that time. Then is to follow a 
 personal, corporeal reign of Christ for a thousand years — a millennium 
 — upon the renovated earth. At the close of this millennial period, the 
 second resurrection, that of the righteous and the wicked, is to occur, 
 and the end of the world. 
 
 As already hinted, this doctrine at first started and became prevalent 
 among the Jewish, as distinguished from the Gentile, Christians. Per- 
 secutions arising from time to time, and the distressed conditions re- 
 sulting from governmental opposition have, however, extended to the 
 Gentile Christians belief in the corporeal features of Chiliasm. They 
 have likewise resulted at various times in an earnest longing for the 
 immediaie return of Christ, in an expectation of His immediate setting 
 up of His kingdom in the place of the earthly kingdoms, and in belief in 
 the imminence of His advent. 
 
 The conflict between the earlier and Catholic doctrine and this ChilU 
 astic outgrowth may readily be traced in the history of the Church. It 
 appeared in its full development, first of all, early in the apostolic age, 
 in connection with the Church at Thessalonica. The two earliest of the 
 Pauline Epistles — supposed to have been written in a.d. 52 and 53— are 
 largely taken up with the exhibition and refutation of the departures 
 from the Catholic doctrine on this subject. 
 
 After their experience at Philippi, Paul and Silas passed on through 
 Amphipolis and ApoUonia to Thessalonica. This city — now called in 
 slightly changed form Salonica — ^was a great maritime city and the 
 capital of the first division of Macedonia, and it always had a large 
 Jewish population. As Antioch was the natural center for Christian 
 work in Asia Minor, so Thessalonica was one of the best strategic points 
 — if not thei best— for beginning the conquest of Europe. This was 
 recognized by Paul himself, who, inspired with the great purpose of 
 making the empire of Christ coterminous with that of Eome, wrote, 
 only a few months after leaving Thessalonica (1 Thess. i. 8), that " from 
 them the word of the Lord had sounded forth like a trumpet, not only 
 in Macedonia and Achaia, but in every place." 
 
 The preaching that led to the expulsion of Paul and Silas from the 
 city (see Acts xvii. 1-10) furnishes the key to the Epistles written a 
 little later. It was the doctrine of the Kingdom of God. The accusa- 
 tion brought against them was that they were proclaiming another King 
 than Csesar (Acts xvii. 7). In writing to them Paul accordingly re- 
 minds them of his exhortations and entreaties, that they should "walk 
 worthy of God who called them to his Kingdom and Glory" (1 Thess. 
 ii. 12). and addresses them as those who had "suffered affliction for the 
 sake of that Kingdom" (2 Thess. i. 5). Christ's Second Coming had 
 evidently been a chief topic of Paul's preaching to them. 
 
 37 577 
 
BppenOis 
 
 The brevity of the Apostle's stay in the city gave little opportunity 
 for instructing and grounding the Christians, chiefly Gentiles, in the 
 Christian system; but they appear to have continued stedfast in the 
 faith in the severe persecutions and aflBictions that followed (1 Thess. 
 ii. 14 ; iii. 3 ; 2 Thess. i. 4). Nevertheless there were some peculiar 
 aspects of the doctrine of the Second Coming toward which their trials 
 seemed naturally to push them. Looking upon it as the glorious com- 
 ing of the Lord Jtor deliverance (1 Thess. i. 10), some came to believe in 
 the imminency, if not the immediacy, of the Second Advent ; and so gave 
 np laboring for their ovra support, became burdensome to the brethren, 
 and encouraged irregularities by their mode of life. Moreover, there 
 arose a perplexity about the case of those who should fall asleep before 
 the Second Coming. 
 
 This state of things led Paul, toward the close of 53 a.d., to write 
 from Athens his First Epistle to the Thessalonians, to give specific in- 
 struction regarding these points. His main theme is the consolation 
 from the hope of the Second Coming of the Lord. The leading words in 
 the Epistle (as in 2 Thessalonians) are Parousia (advent, or appearing) 
 and Affliction. The prominence in it of the coming of the Lord is 
 shown by the fact that each chapter rises to and rests in that Coming as 
 its conclusion (see ch. i. 10 ; ii. 20 ; iii. 13 ; iv. 17, 18 ; v. 23). 
 
 The Second Epistle was written to the Thessalonians in a.d. 53, from 
 Corinth. The former letter had produced salutary results, on which the 
 Apostle congratulates them ; but their manifold tribulations on account 
 of the faith had caused the opinion that the Lord's coming would take 
 place immediately , to gain ground rapidly among them. This hope 
 was fostered by some among them who claimed to have the " spirit of 
 prophecy," and it was also thought to be favored by Paul's ovm teach- 
 ings (2 Thess. ii. 2). In consequence of this, the habits of idleness and 
 irregularity had increased. Moreover, the false Jewish teachers were 
 beginning to lead the Thessalonian Christians to look upon "the Day 
 of the Lord," according to the Old-Testament view (Isa. xiii. ; Joel ii. ; 
 Amos V. 18), as a Day of Judgment, rather than of deliverance and glory. 
 The aim of the Second Epistle is to meet the new needs that had 
 arisen. 
 
 It will be seen from this outline view that the Epistles to the Thessa- 
 lonians bear a relation to the Second Advent of Christ similar to that 
 of the Book of Daniel to his First Advent. They were the guide-book 
 for that age and for the Church of the after-ages. In conjunction with 
 the teaching of our Lord Himself in Matt, xxiv., their instructions and 
 directions would appear to be suflBciently full and explicit. For the 
 time being the Chiliastic views seem to have disappeared from the 
 Church, and the Catholic doctrine to have held full sway. 
 
 A new development of Chiliasm took place toward the close of the 
 second century. It resulted from the persecuting hand of the govern- 
 ment being laid heavily upon the Church. 
 
 It is not necessary here to enter into the causes of the persecutions by 
 
 578 
 
Zbe ScconO Coming of Cbtlet— a Succinct Dfetors 
 
 the Romans. It is enough to note that the ideas of religious freedom in 
 the modern world are quite alien to those of the ancient world. There 
 were none but state religions and national gods. Cicero lays down as 
 the fundamental maxim of legislation in ancient Romanism, that "no 
 man shall have for himself particular gods of his own ; no man shall 
 worship by himself any new or foreign gods, unless they are recognized 
 by the public laws." And so Christianity came necessarily into col- 
 lision with the laws of the state. 
 
 The bloody persecutions, from the last half of the second century on- 
 ward, were the inevitable outcome of this natural and essential antag- 
 onism ; but even in the opening half of the second century the Christians 
 were subjected to sore trials such as those from which the Thessalonians 
 suffered. In passing through these, their minds seem to have turned 
 again, says Neander, to " the idea of the millennial reign, which the 
 Messiah was to set up on earth. ... In the midst of persecutions, it 
 was a solace and support to the Christians to anticipate that even upon 
 this earth, the scene of their sufferings, the Church was destined to tri- 
 umph in itF perfected and glorified state." In some regions this view 
 took on a more spiritual form ; while in others, as in Phrygia, the nat- 
 ural home of a sensual, enthusiastic religious spirit, " Chiliasm appeared 
 in its crass and grossly conceived form in which the earthly Jewish 
 mind had depicted it." 
 
 Among the Apostolic Fathers, in the second century, the doctrine 
 appears in the writings of Barnabas, Hermas, and Fapias, Bishop of 
 Eierapolis, only, the last named teaching it in its grossest form. As 
 Dr. Shedd has said ("History of Christian Doctrine," vol. ii., p. 390) : 
 "There are no traces of Chiliasm in the writings of Clement of Rome, 
 Ignatius, Polycarp, Tatian, Athenagorus, and Theophilus of Antioch." 
 He adds : "The inference from these facts, then, is that this tenet was 
 not the received faith of the Church certainly down to the year 150. It 
 was held only by individuals." Among the really masterful scholars, 
 ecclesiastics, and theologians, it had not a single advocate. That it 
 was not the faith of the Apostolic Church is further evident from the 
 fact that it was not embodied in the so-called Apostles' Creed, which is 
 "undoubtedly the substance of the short confessions of faith which the 
 catechumens of the Apostolic Church were accustomed to make upon 
 entering the Church." 
 
 The period from 150 a.d. to 250 has been called "the blooming age of 
 Millenarianism." It was in this period of bitter and increased perse- 
 cution that Irenseus and Tertullian came forward as its advocates, giv- 
 ing glowing descriptions of the millennial reign. " Antichrist, together 
 with all '-^e nations that side with him, will be destroyed. Al! earthly 
 empires, jtnd the Roman in particular, will be overthrown. Christ will 
 appear, and will reign a thousand years, in corporeal presence on earth, 
 in Jerusalem, which will be rebuilt and made the capital of His king- 
 dom. The patriarchs, prophets, and all the pious, will be raised from 
 the dead, and share in the felicity of this kingdom. The New Jerusa- 
 
 579 
 
appcnOii' 
 
 lem is depicted in the most ^lendid colors" (Shedd, "History of Chris- 
 tian Doctrine, vol. ii., p. 390). 
 
 But even Irenseus and Tertullian, in presenting "brief synoptical 
 statements of the authorized faith of the Church," in their writings 
 against heretics, make no mention of the MiUenarian tenet as belonging 
 to that faith. 
 
 The third century, chiefly in its first half, witnessed the strenuous 
 discussion that seems practically to have brought to an end, for the 
 time at least, the tendency in the Church to accept the Chiliastic doc- 
 trine. This was conducted in the Alexandrian School, imder the lead 
 of three great teachers, Clement of Alexandria, Origen his pupU, and 
 Dionysius the pupil of Origen. They did not reject the Apocaljrpse, 
 but addressed themselves to opposing the grossly literal interpretations 
 put upon it by the Chiliasts. 
 
 The method adopted by Bishop Dionysius of Alexandria is of pecul- 
 iar interest, as showing what may be accompUshed by candid Christian 
 discussion. Neander gives a somewhat detailed account of his course 
 ("Church History," vol. i., p. 452). Nepos, a pious Eg-ptian bishop 
 belonging to the region of Arsinoe, and who was a devoted friend of the 
 sensual Chiliasm, wrote a book against the Alexandrian school, entitled 
 "A Refutation of the AUegorists." "The book seems to have found 
 great favor with the clergy and laity in the above-mentioned district. 
 Great mysteries and disclosures of future events were supposed to be 
 found here; and many engaged with more zeal in the study of the book 
 and theory of Nepos than in that of the Bible and its doctrines." So 
 zealous did his disciples become for this tenet that they brought the 
 charge of heresy against all who refused to accept it. Whole churches 
 separated themselves from their communion with the mother-church at 
 Alexandria. After the death of Nepos, a country priest, Coracion, took 
 the leadership of this party. 
 
 Neander gives an interesting account of the way in which, by instruc- 
 tion and discussion, the good and wise Bishop of Alexandria, Diony- 
 sius, led Coracion back to the faith. This happened in the year 255. 
 
 "Having restored the unity of faith among his own churches," Diony- 
 sius wrote his work on the Promises, for the instruction of the churches. 
 By the opening of the fourth century Chiliasm seems to have almost 
 disappeared from the Church, as is shown by the statements of Euse- 
 bius, the church historian. Describing the writings of Papias, Eusebius 
 remarks that they contain "matters rather too fabulous," among which 
 he enumerates the opinion of Papias that "there would be a certain 
 millennium after the resurrection, and that there would be a corporeal 
 reign of Christ on this very earth." The return to the Catholic doc- 
 trine on the subject seems therefore to have been quite general before 
 the year 400. 
 
 The history of the Chiliastic doctrine from the opening of the fifth 
 century may be briefly summarized, since its manifestations have been 
 only sporadic and temporary. 
 
 580 
 
JZbe SeconO Coming ot Cbtfat— a Succinct tylBtovg 
 
 As the tenth century drew to a close there arose " an undefined fear 
 and expectation among the masses that the year 1000 would witness the 
 advent of the Lord," but this passed away with the century. 
 
 At the time of the Reformation, the doctrine was revived by the 
 fanatical Anabaptists, Miinzer and his followers, who attempted to put 
 down all temporal sovereignty and to establish the kingdom of the saints 
 with fire and sword. They were, however, vigorously opposed by Luther, 
 Melancthon, Calvin, and the other great reformers, and their military 
 forces were defeated and crushed and their leaders slain at MUhlhausen 
 in 1525 and at Mttnster in 1535. Leading symbols of the Reformation 
 period strongly condemn Chiliasm, e.g., the Augsburg Confession, the 
 Belgic Confession, and the English Confession of Edward VI. 
 
 The history of the doctrine during the nineteenth century is well 
 summarized by Dr. Shedd : 
 
 "During the present century, individual minds in England and 
 America, and upon the Continent of Europe, have attempted to revive 
 the theory — in some instances in union with an intelligent and earnest 
 ortliodoxy, in others in connection with an uneducated and somewhat 
 fanatical pietism. The first class is represented by Delitzsch and Au- 
 berlen in Germany, and by Cumming, Elliott, and Bonar in Great 
 Britain ; the second class by the so-called Adventists and Millerites in 
 the United States." 
 
 The Millerite movement, started in 1831 by William Miller, an Ameri- 
 ca.», who predicted that Christ's Second Coming and the end of the 
 world would take place in 1843, received what was practically its death- 
 blow in the failure of the prediction to meet with accomplishment at 
 the appointed time. Substantially the same classes of people are, how- 
 ever, to be found among the Adventists, or Second Adventists, of the 
 present time, including a considerable number of immigrant foreigners, 
 especially Scandinavians. Some of these liold to the doctrine of the 
 annihilation of the wicked and to that of the sleep of the dead until the 
 resurrection. The approach of the twentieth century seems to have 
 given an impulse to the Adventist movement, altho it has not changed 
 the character or quality of its advocates. 
 
 The survey thus made of the history of the Church, ancient, medieval, 
 and modem, brings out the fact that the Catholic doctrine, as already 
 outlined, has always been the Church doctrine. The Chiliastic views 
 based upon the literal interpretation of the Scriptures bearing upon the 
 subject have never been generally accepted. The facts, as summarized 
 by Dr. Shedd ("History of Christian Doctrine," vol. ii., p. 398), are as 
 follows : 
 
 "1. That Millenarianism was never the ecumenical faith of the 
 Church and never entered as an article into any of the creeds. 
 
 "2. That Millenarianism has been the opinion of individuals and 
 parties only — some of whom have stood in agi'eement with the Catholic 
 faith, and some in opposition to it." 
 
 581 
 
REASONS FOR THE BELIEF THAT CHRIST MAY 
 COME "WITHIN THE NEXT TWENTY YEARS 
 
 By ARTHXJR T. PIERSON, D.D. 
 
 Is the day of Christ neai at hand ? 
 
 This question is attracting much attention as this new century begins, 
 and wise men are watching for the morning star, which is the herald of 
 the new dawn. 
 
 Imminence is a word used for the union of the certainty of an event 
 vnth the uncertainty of its time. One text suffices to show that such immi- 
 nence is, in the Scripture, characteristic of the Lord's return : " Be ye 
 also ready ; for in such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man Com- 
 eth" (Matt. xxiv. 44). Such an exhortation excludes mere argument. 
 The certainty of the event is assured, for " the Son of Man cometh ; " the 
 uncertainty of the time is conceded, for it is " in an hour that ye think 
 not" or as yerse 36 adds, " of that day and hour knoweth no man." 
 
 In a broader sen-se, the word imminent is used to express the idea 
 that the event is impending — nigh at hand. True, it may be unwise to 
 attempt to fix the very " day and hour," since these are declared to lie 
 among the divine secrets. Yet it may be both possible and proper to 
 observe carefully the signs which are to precede or accompany Christ's 
 reapx>earing, and even the mistakes of those who have made erroneous 
 calculations as to the time may serve only to narrow the circle within 
 which the truth is to be found. We shall therefore inquire briefly 
 whether there is any reason to look for the speedy reappearing of the 
 Son of Man, and, without committing ourselves to all the opinions 
 which follow, we may state the grounds on which such conclusions 
 have been reached by many devout students of the subject. 
 
 The appeal must, of course, be to the Holy Oracles, if we are to ge* 
 any safe response. Seven signs hinted at in the Word of God may be 
 selected, as prominent: 
 
 (1) A widespread witness to Christ, with (2) a widespread decline 
 in godliness. (3) A marked movement among the Jews, with (4) the 
 fulness of the Gentiles. (5) A singularly unresting state of society, 
 with (6) a daring development of iniquity and (7) a confident sense of 
 false security. These seven indications must be studied in the light of 
 
 583 
 
JBcHcf tbat CbtlBt /iBas Oomc fn tbe meEt aiwentg leara 
 
 seTen conspicuous passages of Scripture, such as Matt xxiv., Luke xxi., 
 Rom. xi., 2 Thess. ii., 2 Peter iii., 2 Tim. iii., and Jude. 
 
 It may be well to add that, if such conclusion hung upon any one of 
 these signs alone, it might be more than doubtful ; but, when all these 
 unite, they serve as far safer guides ; as a cable may be unbreakable, any 
 one of whose separate strands would easily part under severe tension. 
 
 Thoughtful observers of events, who are at the same time prayerful 
 students of Scripture, have come to feel that there is a manifold and re- 
 markable preparation for the "Parousia" or personal coming of Christ ; 
 and that the existing state of both the church and the world seems to 
 demand His coming as the only solution of the problems of prophecy 
 and of history. 
 
 The present drift of society is toward anarchy, a drift that has been 
 peculiarly rapid during the last quarter-century. Socialism, commun- 
 ism, nihilism, and the hot battle between capital and labor, monopoly 
 and poverty, are the dominant facts and forces in this war, now being 
 waged, with increasing violence and desperateness, against all govern- 
 ment. There is also a strong drift in the church toward apostasy. 
 Witness the advance of Komanism, ritualism, and rationalism, even in 
 Protestant churches and communities. In society at large there is a 
 corresponding advance of materialism, agnosticism, and infidelity ; and 
 the polite disguises of science, culture, and criticism do not hide the 
 true features and forms which they clothe, but can not conceal. 
 
 Who can fail to see the trend of the Jews toward national rehabilita- 
 tion and the colonization of Palestine, while at the same time the church 
 is fettered by secularism on the one hand and skepticism on the other ? 
 Side by side with these signs there is the opening of the world to the 
 Gospel, the world-wide circulation of the Bible in over four hundred 
 tongues, the network of missionary societies wrapping the globe, and 
 the uprising of Christian young men and women in an unparalleled cru- 
 sade of missions. All these are like fingers all pointing in one direction 
 — the Sunrise of the Ages. 
 
 Many other Scriptures, besides those already cited, startle us from our 
 apathy, especially when we compare them. Take, for example. Matt, 
 xiii. and Rev. ii.-iii. The seven parables in the former and the seven 
 letters to the churches in the latter appear to correspond chronologically. 
 In Matthew, the last scene shows the dragnet— the obvious metaphor for 
 world-wide evangelization. In the Apocalypse, the last rebuke is to 
 idodicea— the self-deceived and self-sufficient church, that shuts in 
 worldliness and shuts out Christ. When in history did those two condi. 
 tlons ever meet as they do now? On one hand a wealthy, self-satisfied, 
 lukewarm Christianity, and on the other a casting of the Gospel net into 
 the world sea, and gathering of every kind of fish ! For the first time in 
 this gospel age, ecclesiastical degeneracy and evangelistic activity curi- 
 ously blending— fulfilling before our eyes our Lord's paradox— world- 
 wide witness side by side with love waxing cold I 
 
 One remark may be added as to the " times of the Gentiles." 
 
 583 
 
Bppendis 
 
 There is a remarkable consensus of opinion that it is from Nebuchad- 
 nezzar — the world king and head of gold — that the " times of the gentiles " 
 date. His time was about 600 B.C. If the "seven times" or seven 
 years, of Dan. iv. 25, represent, as is supposed, seven periods of 360 
 years each (or seven times twelve months of thirty year-days), then the 
 full seven times from Nebuchadnezzar to the end would be 2,520 years, 
 and reckoning from 600 b.c. this brings us to 1920 jl.d., or thereabouts. 
 These 2,520 years appear to be divided into two exactly equal periods 
 of 1,260 years each, or "forty and two months," or "a time, times and 
 half a time" (i.e., three and a half of these prophetic years) (Rev. xi. 2, 
 3., and xii. 14). 
 
 As to the filling up of the 1,260 days of the latter half, the historic 
 correspondences are so remarkable that at least ten difierent methods of 
 computation seem to point to the same precise period — an interval of 
 time lying somewhere between 1880 and 1920, the uncertainty of the 
 exact time of the end resulting from the difficulty of fixing the exact 
 date of the beginning. But it is this convergence of prophetic and his- 
 toric times at some point within these forty years which has awakened 
 such a widespread interest in the imminence of our Lord's coming. 
 And, surely, as our Lord has taught us, if it behooves us to observe the 
 signs of the weather, we should not be indifferent to the signs on God's 
 greater horizon, which to watchful souls indicate the approach of the 
 day of the Lord (Matt. xvi. 1-3). 
 
 Upon the ten different methods of computation referred to above, it 
 may be well to expand a little, without committing oneself to the posi- 
 tions taken. No one, however, can appreciate the argument, whatever be 
 Its worth, who does not understand the numerical system which mani- 
 festly pervades the whole Word of God, and which constitutes a sort of 
 mathematical framework upon which the whole written Revelation is 
 constructed ; and not only so, but this same numerical structure pervades 
 also all the works of God in Creation, and all the workings of God in 
 human history. Astronomy, chemistry, botany, biology, theology, all 
 obey one mathematical law, and it must be a prejudiced mind that re- 
 fuses to recognize this fact. The orbits of the planets and. the spiral 
 course of the leaf-buds on the trees, the proportions and dimensions of 
 crystals, the octaves of sound and of color — these and many other opera- 
 tions, forces and forms of nature conform to strict mathematical laws. 
 From Sirius down to the invisible atom there is a uniform system, and 
 it tells of the one Designer and Creator. Once let this fact be admitted 
 and it becomes no novelty to us to find evidences of similar mathematical 
 precision in the periods of history. Let us, therefore, in conclusion, 
 glance at the various positions taken by devout students of history and 
 prophecy, and impartially survey the outlook from their points of view. 
 
 1. The first method of computation, already referred to, as fixing the 
 present period as approximately "the time of the end" is known as "the 
 times of the Gentiles," seven times, or years, each consisting of 360 year- 
 days, or a sum-total of 2,520 years. Of this period. Professor Totten, of 
 
 584 
 
3Beliet tbat Cbrtet /Bias Come In tbe mejt Zwent^ Bears 
 
 New Haven, following the lead of the British Chronological Association, 
 says: 
 
 "Nabopolassar shook off the yoke of Assyria, and, by thus assuming 
 the crown of Babylon, commenced the ' times of the Gentiles. ' His 
 accession took place in the seventh civil (first sacred) month of the year 
 3377 A.M. The ' times of the Gentiles ' therefore ran out 2,520 years 
 thereafter, or in March, 5897 a.m. (a.d. 1899)." 
 
 Thus by another method of computing the times of the Gentiles, he 
 arrives at the present period as at least the beginning of the end. 
 
 "Joshua's Long Day was the last day in broad prophetic chronology 
 which is to be wholly counted as solar time. Since that day, the mil- 
 lenaries have been ' shortened ' to lunar years. The sum of the 2,555J + 
 ' long ' or solar years up to that day, and the 3,444 J -|- ' shortened ' or 
 lunar years, from thence to the vernal equinox of 1899 a.d., is exactly 
 6,000, and accurately terminates the sixth millennary since creation." 
 
 2. Secondly, the Sabbatic system, impressed on the whole face of 
 Scripture history, affords, as many think, a very obvious key to the di- 
 vine chronology. This Sabbatic system reaches back to Eden and char- 
 acterizes the whole annals of the world. There was first consecrated the 
 seventh day, then the seventh week, then the seventh month, then the 
 seventh year, then the seventh seven of years — introducing the " jubilee " 
 — then the seventh seventy of yeai-s, the Grand Jubilee. This number 
 7 X 70, or 490, appears in at least two conspicuous places, 1 Kings vi. 1, 
 where, adding the ten years of the temple building to the 480, between 
 the exodus and the beginning of the work, we have 490 ; and, in Daniel 
 ix. 24, where again the seven sevens reappear, as the sacred typical 
 number, between the exodus from the captivity and the building of the 
 new spiritual temple of God under the Messiah. This number 490 is 
 doubly a tyi* of completeness : it is not only the product of 7 mul- 
 tiplied by 70, but of 7 times 7 (49), the interval from jubilee to jubilee, 
 multiplied by 10 — another sacred number. These jubilee periods must 
 be obviously reckoned from the time of Moses, when the law of the jubi- 
 lee first appears. And, counting the exodus from 2515 a.m., the full 
 seven periods of 490, or 3,430 years, would bringusto5945 a.m., or some- 
 where this side of the middle of the next century as its extreme limit ; 
 and, if the years are to be reckoned by the prophetic-year standard of 360 
 days (twelve equal months of thirty days each) the limit would be some- 
 where about 1898, so that by this method again the " beginning of the 
 end " has already come. 
 
 3. A third method of computation, " The Millennial Standard," is 
 thought to point to the same approximate terminus. "One day is with 
 the Lord as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day " (2 Peter 
 iii. 8). This is regarded by many as another not very obscure hint as 
 to God's chronology, and they therefore reason that the predicted millen- 
 nium or thousand years of Sabbatic rest, crowning the six millenniums 
 of a world's toil, can not be far off. 
 
 4. The fourth method of computation is "the historical." The num. 
 
 585 
 
Bppen£ii£ 
 
 ber 1,260 ("forty-two months," "a time, times, and half a time") is ag 
 we have already seen, conspicuous both in Daniel and in Eevelation. 
 
 Those who accept the " historical " method of interpreting the Apoc- 
 alypse believe that the beast and the false prophet represent the Papacy 
 and Mohammedanism, or the crucifix and the crescent. They maintain 
 that it is a curious fact, to say the least, that both these systems date 
 from the period between 606 and 620 (the decree of Fhocas and the first 
 Hegira) as the terminus a quo, and, adding 1, 260, they reach again a ter- 
 minus ad quern somewhere between 1866 and 1886 as "the beginning of 
 the end " of these systems, as world powers or kingdoms. 
 
 5. A fifth mode of computation is that of the "Antichrist Period." 
 The number, 666, is divinely given as the number of the lawless one 
 (8 avofior, 8 avapxoi) who is to be revealed in the last week of years. This 
 number, thus inseparably linked with the man of sin, in whom personally 
 all the Antichristian systems of history are to "head up," is thought by 
 many to stand for the period of the race's rebellion, and to be the sym- 
 bolic number of perpetual unrest and incompleteness. There is a show 
 of reason in this, for 066 is a repeating decimal that ever approaches, but 
 never reaches, seven, the number of completeness and rest. Six times 
 this number 666 gives 3,996, the grand crisis — the year of Cht.st's birth, 
 reckoning from creation ; and again, reckoning from Abraham's birth, as 
 father of the faithful, brings us to the beginning of this century as a 
 new crisis in history. 
 
 6. A sixth road by which the same terminus is reached is the "con- 
 dition of world^witness" (see Matt. xiiv. 14, Mark xiii. 10). Christ 
 distinctly stated that the Gospel must first be publisbed among all n!>- 
 tions, and preached as a witness to all nations, and then would come the 
 END. With no little force many argue that there never was a period of 
 such world-wide evangelism as now. Over three hundred missionary 
 societies at work, about twelve thousand missionary -workers, and nearly 
 fifty thousand native helpers, engaged ; the Bible translated into over 
 four hundred tongues, etc., and "published to all nations." It is also 
 very noticeable that the motto of the present "crusade" is "The evan- 
 gelization of the world in this generation ! " 
 
 7. A seventh mode of computing is that of the Laodicean lukewarm- 
 ness. By a comparison of Matt. xiii. 47-50 and Rev. iii. 14-22, it will 
 be seen that the last state of the " kingdom, " previous to the end, is world- 
 wide evangelism, as indicated by the dragnet ; and the last state of the 
 church is deep-seated apathy, as indicated by the Xaodicean lukewarm- 
 ness. And those who hold this view contend that both conditions are 
 to coexist as the end draws nigh. They point us to the startling fact that 
 never before has the church shown signs of such extensive evangelization 
 on the one hand, and such extensive deterioration on the other. Many 
 regard this latter as the "falling away," which is to precede the end (2 
 Thess. ii. 3). 
 
 8. An eighth road seems to end at the same goal — it is the develop- 
 ment of anarchism. The hints in the Epistles to the Thessalonians, 
 
 586 
 
JBelicr tbat Cbrist /HbaB Come in tbc mcjt ^Twcntg Kcara 
 
 2 Peter, Jude, and the Apocalypse, it is contended, all agree in show- 
 ing us that, as the end approaches, there will he a peculiarly lawless 
 spirit prevailing — an uprising of an organized resistance to all authority 
 in church and state, a combination oi forces to supplant all govern- 
 ment, and at the same time an arbitrary attempt to compel men to limit 
 even trade and commerce by a certain "mark," that alone authorizes one 
 to " buy or sell " (Rev. xiii. 16, 17). Those who emphasize this as a sign 
 of the end point triumphantly to the recent and unprecedented growth 
 of communism, socialism, and nihilism ; and to the simultaneous 
 growth of trades-unions and protective organizations, monopolies and 
 trusts, which restrict all trade or labor to their "mark." 
 
 9. The ninth argument presented for the near approach of the end is 
 Irredentiam or the drift of the Jews toward Palestine, and the rehabil- 
 itation of their national life. This is, as the advocates of this view con- 
 tend, the blossoming of the fig-tree" (Matt. xxiv. 32, 33), which marks 
 the end as "near, even at the doors." Certainly there is something very 
 startling in the modern movement known as "Zionism," and which has 
 developed within the last five years, summoning these great conferences 
 of leading Jews to the European capitals. Never before has the national 
 spirit of the Israelites had such a revival since Christ ascended. 
 
 10. The tenth line of argument converges at the same point, namely, 
 the SpirWswiiMrawal. There is a mysterious passage in 2 Thess. ii. 7, 
 where we are told that there is some great Hinderer, whose presence 
 prevents the final outbreak of the Mystery of Iniquity, and who must ba 
 withdrawn before the end of lawlessness can come, in the "reappearing 
 of the Lord." The advocates of this view contend that, by every sign, the 
 Spirit of God is shown to have withdravra or to be withdrawing from 
 the church as a whole. It is maintained by very devout souls that 
 there is left, in the church at large, neither spiritual worship, spiritual 
 faith, spiritual work, nor spiritual life ; that altho these all exist, they 
 exist in a few elect individuals, and not in the church as a body ; and 
 that, especially in the matter of administration — the specific ofiice of 
 the Spirit — He is displaced by the spirit of the world, as evinced by 
 the worldly men and maxims, secular oratory, artistic music, worldly 
 entertainments, etc., which everywhere prevail. 
 
 Whatever grounds, above presented, may seem untenable or unsafe, 
 one thing seems undeniable : there is a convergence of signs upon this our 
 day, such as has never indicated any previous period as the probable 
 time of the end. For example, if the Hebrew means Eosh, Russia, and 
 this nation is thus in prophecy indicated as the "head " of the last great 
 movement of history toward world empire, how like a fulfilment are 
 all the present movements of that empire — the trans-Siberian railway, 
 ihe encroachments on China, etc. ! And if universal anarchy is to be 
 the last great development of society, when was there a time when, both 
 In church and state, there was such a development of lawlessness 
 (avofiia)? 
 
 Upon this subject we can no longer, within these narrow limits, ex- 
 
 587 
 
appen&fj 
 
 patiate. But it may at least stir up the thoughtful reader to individual 
 search into the signs of the times. What are the indications above the 
 prophetic and historic horizon? If the signs of the coming of the Son 
 of Man are indeed to be seen, it may well incite us to be among the 
 watchers who, while others yet sleep, are awake and looking for the 
 dawnl