RIE e^ dung LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, ©^tp @flpt}n$t If a Shelf,B41 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. MAU.Y TEACHING JESUS THE ALPHABET BIBLE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ILLUSTRATED /& J^VW )w7 -z NEW YORK HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 1894 341 Copyright, 1894, by Harper & Brothers. All rights reserved. LC Control Number tmp96 028352 CONTENTS PAGE THE SACRIFICE OF NOAH I The Rev. William Elliot Griffis, D.D. AN ANCIENT COURTSHIP II Katharine Crooks. ESAU SELLING HIS BIRTHRIGHT 29 The Rev. John R. Paxton, D.D. JACOB BEFORE PHARAOH 45 The Rev. Bishop John F. Hurst, D.D. MAKING BRICKS IN EGYPT 6 1 The Rev. John Hall, D.D. LITTLE SAMUEL 77 The Rev. William M. Taylor, D.D. DAVID AND JO-NATHAN 87 The Right Rev. Henry C. Potter, D.D. ESTHER AND AHASUERUS 103 The Rev. Robert S. MacArthur, D.D. THE NATIVITY 121 The Rev. Charles H. Parkhurst, D.D. "SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME" 137 Margaret E. Sangster. PETER WALKING ON THE WATER 151 The Rev. James M. Ludlow, D.D. MARY IN THE GARDEN 1 65 The Rev. Bishop John H. Vincent, D.D. ILLUSTRATIONS PAGE MARY TEACHING JESUS THE ALPHABET . . . Frontispiece THE SACRIFICE OF NOAH 5 MEETING OF ISAAC AND REBEKAH 15 ESAU SELLING HIS BIRTHRIGHT 37 JACOB BEFORE PHARAOH 55 ISRAELITES IN THE BRICKYARDS OF EGYPT .... 69 SAMUEL AND ELI 6 1 DAVID AND JONATHAN 95 ESTHER BEFORE AHASUERUS IT5 IN THE STABLE AT BETHLEHEM 131 "SUFFER THE LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME " 143 PETER WALKING ON THE SEA 1 = 7 MARY IN THE GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE ..,..173 Zbe Sacrifice of IRoab ^ THE SACRIFICE OF NOAH jFTER weeks spent on board ship, how delightful to step on land ! To feel solid earth be- neath your feet is a joy in itself. How different, too, are the smells. How pleasantly new are the sights. On every side, brain and nerves are alive to fresh sensations. I remember how happy I felt after be- ing twenty -nine days on the Pacific Ocean. The land I stepped upon was full of mountains. How grand, solid- looking, fast, they were. Nothing was rocking, swimming, tossing, or seesawing. Even at night I could undress and go to bed without holding on by one hand to the door-knob or clothes-hook. I suppose Americans call their ship bedchamber a " state-room " because they are in so un- certain a state while in them. Not so very different was the ark from an Atlantic steamer, for both floated on the same unstable element. Noah looked as long and as eagerly for land as a sail- or in the tops. When the pilot -raven was sent out and came not back, Noah took it as a good sign. Land was near, yet not near enough for the pink toes of a dainty dove. After the messenger dove's second flight, a letter came from God addressed to Noah. It was not written with pen, nor with ink on paper. It was an olive leaf, glossy green on one side, silvery gray on the other. Noah examined it as eagerly as we look for our friend's handwriting. Yes, it was a live leaf, not a dead one of last year be- fore the flood. Fresh as a postage-stamp cancelled yesterday, it told the story of time. It was "pluckt off," the message read, in God's own words : " Go forth out of the ark, thou, and thy wife, and thy sons, and thy sons' wives with thee." How glad Father Noah and all the THE SACRIFICE OF NOAH young folks were to breathe God's air, which is usually so much purer than house or ship air. The great floating chest was like a cattle-ship, for it was full of live- stock. After many months of wet and " nasty n weather — as sailors say — their cramped limbs enjoyed the climb up the hill-side. How sure and solid the ground felt to them. No wonder the Psalms are full of gratitude because God "setteth fast " the mountains. First, they let free the beasts, birds, and creeping things out of their pens and stalls in the ark. What a scene of frisk- ing, gambolling, and tail-whisking there must have been, as the animals regained their freedom, and scattered over the earth ! Fathers, mothers, and children, led by Noah, hastened at once to thank God. The way to do this in early ages was to build an altar of stones, and with fire and clean animals laid on it to send up a cost- ly smoke to heaven. So worshipped all the ancient nations when the world was young. High up on the mountain's crest, whence they could look off on range upon range of hills and peaks, and upon the water in the valleys, they halted. Quickly they laid the stones in shape. Fire was very hard to get in those days ; but besides plenty of drift-wood laying around the ark, they had dry pieces which they rubbed together. Soon a smoke, and then a spark, appeared. By blowing the spark, flame burst forth, and kindled the fuel. Lonely places on the mountain-tops are very windy. The stiff breeze blew the loose hair of the men in front of their foreheads, turned the flame sideways, and swept the smoke towards the eastern sky. All in reverent expectation waited for some sign of the divine favor, while they watched anxiously the cloud - covered heavens. Still dark and gloomy was the weather, still black the sky. Why does not God speak as in the olive leaf sent by the dove ? Suddenly the west wind rends the clouds, and the afternoon glory of the sun burst forth. How green and tender seem the grass and flowers. Even the snow- tipped mountain-range in the far distance becomes rosy. More glorious than all, see the rainbow — " a blazing band of dazzling dyes.'' All except the patriarch fall on their knees. Thev bow to the earth, while Xoah lifts up hands and voice in prayer. Pleased with his children's faith in Him, pleased with their gratitude, the Heavenly Father makes the bow the sign of his promise of continued favor and help. Soon a second bow of seven glo- rious colors — violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, red — delights their eyes, and the clouds wear the double smile of God. To Xoah and his children it meant that the flood should no more destroy man and beast from off the earth. Even to-day there are those whose hearts " leap up, when they behold a rain- bow in the sky ;" for, as of old, it is a sure proof of the Heavenly Father's unceasing love and care. an ancient Ccmrtsbip AN ANCIENT COURTSHIP DO not believe there is a story- book printed which has in it more stories loved by children than the Bible. I once knew a little girl who divided all her time be- tween the Book of Revelation and the Arabian Nights. Both were equally real to her, and in what a happy world of imagination did she live! She was just twelve years old, the age when boys and girls begin to read poetry and to dream of the wonderful. She is older and wiser now. She knows that the stories of the Arabian Nights are only stories, and that the strange things told in the Book of Revelation are not actually to happen, but like a cloak they hide the truth until the time of the prophecy's fulfilment. But the stories in the other books of the Bible are not like these of Revelation, for the other 14 books tell of real persons who lived long ago and of what they did. The Book of Genesis tells of the time the furthest back of all, yet the people it speaks of seem as lifelike and act as naturally as our next- door neighbors. Now, you who are studying Greek or Roman history know what absurd tales the Greeks and Romans told of the founders of their nations and the first builders of their cities. They thought they proved themselves greater than the rest of mankind by making their fore- fathers appear more than human. The Greeks and Romans forgot that time would keep going on, and on, and on, and that other nations would come after them. For the result is that they provoke us who now live, and we say, " How can we tell anything of the beginnings of Greece and Rome, when all we have of their early days is a collection of silly stories ?" We have the same vexation with the older peoples who lived before the Greeks and Romans. When some wise man digs MEETING OF ISAAC AND REBEKAH 17 out of the ground the stones, or the bricks, or whatever other material these nations wrote on (for they had not paper as we have), and translates the writing for us, we often have to rub our heads before we can make out what is meant. These nations seem to have loved to speak of themselves in such a high-flown, pompous way that we can hardly understand at times what they wrote, even when turned into English. This is not so with the Jews. Their early history is clearly written, and they are the only ancient people of whom this can be said. If you will open your Bibles to the twenty-fourth chapter of Genesis, in which we are told of the meeting of Isaac and Rebekah, you will know what I mean by clear and simple writing. It is a beautiful story, and how sweetly told! I have always loved Isaac. He seems so gentle. We never speak of Isaac without think- ing of his father, Abraham, and his son, Jacob. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ; how easy it is for us to run off their names like one, two, three, yet what strange things happened to them. I think the most wonderful of all the events of their lives is that God added His own name to theirs, an honor He has never given to any other human beings. For He says of Himself, 11 1 am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. ,, When Abraham left his father and his relations and went into the land of Canaan, as God told him to do, it was a time when many other men were leaving their old homes in Mesopotamia to go into new parts of the world, just as men went out in colonies to America when it was discovered. It was sixty -five years after he left Haran when he sent back for a wife for Isaac. This is the way to count it. Abraham was seventy-five years old when he left his home, one hundred years when Isaac was born, and Isaac was forty when Rebekah came to him. How old forty seems to us ! But forty could not have appeared more than twenty does *9 now when men lived one hundred and eighty years, as Isaac did. All that the Bible says of Abraham's relations in this long time is that Abraham knew his brother had children and grandchildren. But I believe the two families knew more than this of each other. When Abraham dwelt in the plain of Mamre, where afterwards the city of He- bron was built, he was on the caravan road from Canaan into Mesopotamia, and Haran was a stopping-place for caravans going farther. We know this because Hebron still stands, and is still a start- ing-place for caravans. Haran has dis- appeared, but travellers think they have found the site of it on a small river flow- ing into the upper part of the Euphrates. That it was a centre of caravan trade we know from old writers. If this be so, the two families could send messages back and forth, and I think Rebekah knew more than we are told about Isaac when she said so readily, " I will go," and started right off. 20 To go back to the servant setting out with the camels loaded with presents in search of a wife for his masters son. He had no easy task, for besides picking out the right wife, a matter which greatly troubled him, as the story tells us, he had, what the story does not say, but what other travellers have found out for them- selves, a hard and dangerous journey of between four and five hundred miles through a country probably as beset with robbers then as now. No one can go directly from Palestine to Mesopotamia, for a great desert lies between. Travel- lers in these days, like those in ancient times, have to go up to the mountains north of Palestine, then through them until they must turn towards Damascus, then again north from Damascus as far as possible, in order to cross as little of the desert as they can. A lady who once took part of this trip told me that it was the most dangerous and trying journey she ever had, and she rode a horse instead of a camel, which is far worse to ride. 21 When the servant drew near Haran, he stopped at the well, placed, as wells are now, just outside the town. Customs in the East do not change. A rich man to- day would send to his relations for a wife for his son in exactly the manner Abra- ham did, and the servant would stop where this man halted, for the well is the place to see all the people of a town, and to learn all the news. It is, at evening, to an Oriental village the same meeting- spot that the post-office at mail time is to small towns here. The women come for water with which to cook the supper, and the men bring their flocks to give them drink, before shutting them up for the night. Now how would the servant set about his business in a country so different from ours ? In this perplexity he prayed to God, and said : " Behold, I stand here by the well of water; and the daughters of the men of the city come out to draw water. And let it come to pass that the damsel to whom I shall say, Let down thy pitcher, 22 I pray thee, that I may drink; and she shall say, Drink, and I will give thy cam- els drink also; let the same be she whom Thou hast appointed for thy servant Isaac." While he was yet speaking these words in his heart, Rebekah appeared with her pitcher on her shoulder, and behold, all he had wished came to pass. It may seem strange to you that Re- bekah should have to draw water, but the daughters of rich men in the East do the same thing now; only, travellers tell me, that they never find any one so obliging, nowadays, as to water their camels. To be kind to strangers gives any one a high reputation in Oriental countries. So you see what the servant meant when he de- cided to make the courtesy of the young woman the test of the success of his er- rand. In his eyes such a girl would be a well-trained lady, and the quickness (for it says " she hasted " and " ran") with which Rebekah set about her task filled his cup of satisfaction to overflowing, especially 23 when he was sure she was one of the fam- ily he was seeking. For a man to stand by while a woman does such hard work as filling the stone troughs around a well for animals to drink from is not according to our notions, but it is still right in Pal- estine. Ideas of a girl's accomplishments vary in different countries. I once asked a Japanese if young ladies in Japan were taught anything — meaning, did they go beyond what they learned as children. " Certainly," he said, a little indignantly ; "every Japanese young lady is taught the arrangement of flowers and the etiquette of making tea." " What a different world from our own," was all I could think. Abraham sent his servant this long journey because he wanted Isaac to have a wife who believed in the true God as he did. The people who were filling up the country where Abraham dwelt, and most of those who lived in Mesopotamia, wor- shipped idols. We see, further on, in Gen- esis, when Jacob and Laban separate, that Abraham's family worshipped God; but 24 they could not have cared so much for Him, or understood Him so perfectly as Abraham did, for, while he was willing to push forward wherever God led him, they were satisfied to stay behind. The rich presents the servant brought were really the price he paid for Rebekah, for a bride in the East is bought from her family. When we read, though, that Re- bekah's nurse and damsels (meaning her servants) were sent with her, we feel sure that the family gave her all that was suit- able to a sister about to marry the son of a great man. A hardy young woman like Rebekah perhaps did not mind travelling on a camel, but an American who once crossed a desert on one told me that a camel was a terrible beast to ride on. This was his experience. He did not have such a com- fortable saddle as we see in the picture. His saddle was like a wooden saw-buck, placed so that the earners hump, which is only a mass of fat, rose through the open- ing in the middle. To the four legs that 25 went downwards were attached the straps that bound the saddle on. In the centre, over the hump, should have been a padded cushion which should have stretched over the four legs that stood up, but there were only the tatters of a cushion, and pieces of old carpets, and whatever rags the Arabs could find, were put together to take its place. Across this improvised cushion was thrown a pair of big saddle- bags which hung down on each side of the camel. These were stuffed full of all the odds and ends of the camp. He once looked into his, and found a lot of old tin pans. When he sat astride the camel, the stretch was dreadful, to say nothing of knocking against the tin pans. When he sat sideways he could not keep on. He could not keep his seat because of the pe- culiar jolt of a camel's gait. The camel moves the two legs on one side, then the two legs on the other, and as it has no spring in its motion, the traveller is jerked first to one side, then to the other, and his back and head keep up a continual wob- 26 ble, wobble, wobble. In despair, our Amer- ican and his companions, for they all had the same bad saddles and dreadful saddle- bags, and they all fell off when they did not want to, tried riding on the camels' necks. The camels did not mind a par- ticle, but as their necks are sharp and thin, the result was only a change from one discomfort to another. This same unlucky camel-rider told me that a camel's ordinary gait was three miles an hour, which is its natural walk ; that it could go at a great speed, but only for a short time, as any gait faster than a walk tired it out very soon, nor could even the Arabs bear the jarring of a fast jour- ney long. An Arab boasted to him that a camel could go sixty miles an hour. This he did not believe, but he did believe it could go a great many miles an hour, because, when running, its stride is enor- mous. A young camel never used for burdens, such as a sheik would ride, is as much better than an ordinary camel as a fine young horse is better than an old cart- 27 horse. Perhaps it was one of these young beasts that carried Rebekah. We have left her so long that she must be at the spot where she lifted up her eyes and saw Isaac walking in the fields thinking, and, most probably, watching for her arrival. Again she justified the servant's opinion that a courteous damsel would do every- thing right, for she alighted at once, as it was proper for her to do when Isaac was on foot, and covered herself with a long cloak-like veil, just as an Eastern bride would do now if she saw the bridegroom coming. Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel were all beautiful, and their husbands loved them, but Isaac and Rebekah are the only two of whom so long and pretty a story is told. iB&nn Selling bis UBirtbrigbt ~^ ESAU SELLING HIS BIRTHRIGHT J VERY boy in the class holds up his hand and is ready to answer when the question is, " Who were the sons of Isaac and Rebekah?" Esau and Jacob, of course. But can my young readers tell me why it is that all over the world, wherever Hebrew or Christian schools are found, there are a thousand little fellows who answer to the name of Jacob to one little fellow who answers " Present " when the name of Esau is called? Or did it ever occur to you to ask the reason why there are so many Patricks among Irishmen? I leave it with you to find out. Did you ever have a playmate called Nero or Herod? I venture to say you cannot remember one. All I will tell you is that there is a 32 great deal in a name; that some names are odious and scandalous, " ill-seeming and bereft of beauty," and no boy would care to answer to them ; for to be hailed as Cain, or addressed as Achan (who was a thief), would make a boy feel shame. Oh, there is a great deal in a name ! Per- haps a rose called by any other name would not and could not smell as sweet. A rose has every inducement to live up to its sweet name, to be as good as its name. I should hate to see a man called Washington hanged for treason to his country. And if a man named Caesar played the coward, it would shock our sense of fitness. Now there are few Esaus to be found in the rolls of names, and I will tell you why. Because young Esau had the first claim on a great boon, on a glorious priv- ilege, and basely surrendered it, and ig- nobly threw it away to gain a mess of pottage, a present gratification of the senses, for he sold his birthright for a plateful of food. 33 It was this way in olden times ; it is this way now in Europe: that the eldest son of a king inherits his father's throne, or the eldest son of a nobleman his fa- ther's title and estates. It is called the right of primogeniture, or the right of the first-born to inherit. In our country we have no such law. Here younger sons are equal under law to the first-born, and sisters and sons share alike in his es- tate when the father dies. It is not so in all countries; it was not so in Bible lands. Esau, by virtue of being born a few min- utes before his brother Jacob (they were twins, you know), was in the line of succes- sion, was entitled to the covenant bless- ing, and on him rested the obligation of continuing the work begun by Abraham and Isaac. But Esau loved hunting and pleasures of the senses, and did not care for or concern himself about spiritual qual- ities, the covenant blessing, or the other world. Esau had no Abrahamic stuff in him. He had reverted to the heathen type, to Bedouin blood, and this world 34 was good enough for him. So he chased game, and companied with his heathen neighbors, and was the favorite of his fa- ther. For Isaac did love Esau, because he did eat of his venison. There are fathers yet to be met with who have a marked tenderness for the successful son, who, with a weakness for venison or cour- age or handsomeness, ignore a plodding Jacob in favor of a brilliant and dashing Esau. But Rebekah loved Jacob, who was a plain man dwelling in tents, who cared for lentiles in the garden, the ailing lambs of the flock ; a mother's pet, with domes- tic tastes ; a timid nature, averse to rough sports and dangerous enterprises. And this partiality in the family was the beginning of the sore troubles and unhappy strife that broke up this home, filled Esau's heart with rage against Ja- cob, and sent Jacob fleeing for his life from his father's house. A curse rests on partiality in the family. It is the cause of much alienation and domestic 35 discord and unnatural strife between brothers and sisters; it saddens and poi- sons many young hearts ; it is the secret of much cynicism in men and women. They were sinned against in their youth, in their own homes, and by their own par- ents, for they were neglected and abused, while a brother was petted and dressed in a coat of many colors, emphasizing partiality. And these men never wholly recover from the pain and hardening ef- fects of such partiality in the family. They mock at paternal devotion and sneer at fil- ial love. Beware of partiality in the home circle, ye parents of our young people, for it saddened Isaac s old age, and made Ja- cob a fugitive from his brothers righteous wrath. And it happened in this wise: that birthright blessing which belonged to Esau as the first-born he did not care a bit about, but young Jacob cared every- thing for it, and coveted it, and so did his mother, who aided and abetted him in se- curing it, for they made a little plan to- 36 gether to get it — first, by buying off Esau, by persuading him to relinquish a claim on something he did not value ; and, sec- ond, by deceiving Isaac, old and blind, and who alone could bestow it. So one day when Esau returned from the chase, faint from fatigue and hunger, the wily young Jacob had a savory stew simmering over a fire. The nostrils of Esau informed his stomach that it was good, and the cry of the appetite was louder and stronger than the voice of the soul. " And Esau said to Jacob, Feed me for I am faint. . . . And Jacob said, Sell me this day thy birthright. And Esau said, Behold I am at the point to die : and what profit shall this birthright do to me ?" And so it was done ; Esau sold his birthright for Jacob's pottage. " He did eat and drink, and rose up, and went his way: thus Esau despised his birth- right." And there are some things done once for all in this world. This was one of them, " For afterward, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was reject- ESAU SELLING HIS BIRTHRIGHT 39 ed : for he found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears." Now let me point the moral which adorns this tale. A boy or a man who lives from his senses, who heeds the cries of passion, and disregards the calm voice of conscience and duty, is an Esau who sells his birth- right as a child of God, for God, when He created man, made an immortal soul, and built a body up around it — a casket to contain this precious jewel. Therefore in a boy or man the soul should always be on top, and should come first in choices we make and directions we take. The senses of this body of dust should be the soul's servants, not its masters, and its inclinations always be subordinate to the dictates of duty — another word for God — conscience, and soul. But Esau preferred the gratification of his senses to the reward of spiritual well- being, and he was lost. He lived a life that came to nothing. As Dean Stanley says': " With all his good -nature, frank 4Q manners, ready courage, he disappeared in the wilderness; he lived a wandering sheik of the desert; he left no mark in his- tory;" he fought no battle for any good cause. Poor Esau! He did not frankly aban- don the flesh and take up with the spirit; he could not " scorn delights to live la- borious days," and was rejected, as all such men are. For men of the spirit always, in the long-run, beat men of the flesh in making their way to fame, or fortune, or the Promised Land, or handing down a covenant blessing. Abraham prayed, as Matthew Arnold said, " that Ishmael might stand before the Lord " — that is, succeed him. But no. Not the brilliant and au- dacious Ishmael, but the homely and hum- ble Isaac is the child of promise, continues the good work, and is the favorite of God; for Ishmael was a man of the senses, but Isaac a man of the soul. So Isaac loved Esau, and would have preferred him; but God gave the blessing to Jacob, for, with all his faults, he was a 4i man of the soul. He preferred the bless- ing to pottage; he had a Godward slope to his mind; he was interested in moral questions, and back of his timidity, craft, and many weaknesses there were a reso- lute will, a steady purpose, and a fixed aim — the senses second to the soul. And he got it, and became one of the fathers of that chosen people out of whom have come the religion and morality of the world. Then let all the young people who read these stories lay it to heart that men of spirit beat men of the senses ; that to suc- ceed in life, carve out a career, make a good finish, and get into any Promised Land requires more than good -nature, reckless courage, and brilliant parts. For solid faculties are better than erratic ge- nius, and steady, plodding industry, backed on conscience, wins more than wit, charm- ing manners, and jolly good-fellowship in any quest in life; for Esau — the man of impulses — is always beaten by the Jacobs of fixed aims and steady principles, who 42 subordinate a present good to a future re- ward. Then be no Esau, with the senses your master, but a young Jacob, with the soul on top. For Esau's path across the world is lost in briers and overgrown with weeds, and obliterated before he has passed early manhood. The world sees him no more, has no use for him, no need to see him. But Jacob still lives and influences human conduct. For he was the father of Joseph, and Joseph made Moses possi- ble, and Moses still thunders from Sinai at successive generations of mankind, there- fore Jacob is alive. His path across the world is not overgrown with briers and weeds and lost. Oh no ; it is open and plain from Shechem to Egypt, from Egypt to Sinai, and from Sinai to the Promised Land beyond the river. God forbid that any of my young read- ers should make Esau's choice for the senses above and before the soul ! It does not pay for this world, for vice has more martyrs than virtue. Many people suffer more to be lost than they would 43 have to suffer to be saved. Wickedness is wretchedness in the end, and piety is peace and a sound mind in a sound body. And it does not pay in view of eternity, for the senses die when our bodies refuse to serve us longer, of course, but the soul must give account to God. But I am too long. Never sell your birthright for any mess of pottage. Never be the degenerate and dishonest son of worthy and upright parents. Never blot a good family record — a black sheep in the household. Never throw the rein on the neck of the senses, but make the soul your master. Let duty, not inclination, control your conduct and govern your way. Bid the Esau of your senses pack and begone, and summon Jacob to the. top and front of your life — the God-born man, who despised the pleasures of sin for a season, and had an eye to the is- sues of eternity, to spiritual qualities, to the recompense of reward. So doing, you shall share the Lord's paradise at last in the other world across the big divide. 44 And here on earth you shall be* counted among those who continued the blessed work Abraham began — the glorious fight, young man, of the soul against the senses, of eternity against time, of heaven against earth. Begin it now, to-day, at once, to claim kinship with God, and clasp to your heart with hoops of steel that covenant blessing which certifies to us that we are children of God, heirs of an immortal life, and enlisted to fight against the world, the flesh, and the devil in a life-long war- fare under the banner of the Redeemer's Cross. 3acob Before ipfearaob NX w>^v. ^^ JACOB BEFORE PHARAOH jISTORY abounds in magnifi- cent royal scenes. In the parks and market-places and along the great streets of famous cap- itals there have been royal processions and pageants so grand that great his- torians have described them at length, poets have clothed them in verse, and painters have immortalized them on can- vas. In one of the largest halls of the Louvre Gallery in Paris the paintings of Rubens depicting the career of Maria de Medicis of France are not only among the chief ornaments of the entire collec- tion, but a notable triumph of modern art. But the reception of Jacob by Pha- raoh in the great Egyptian court at Mem- phis is without a parallel in history. Pha- raoh, the King, receiving Jacob, the aged and wearied pilgrim, seemed, no doubt, at 4 8 the moment to be a mere incident in the life of that splendid court, but in reality it was an occurrence which changed the entire life of humanity. The events which led to that singular scene have all the charm of romance, and yet they are really historical facts. Jo- seph had been in Egypt seventeen years, and in that time had risen from a slave boy to be the Governor over all the land, and second only to the King. The broth- ers who had sold him made several visits from their home in southern Palestine to Egypt to buy corn because of the famine then prevailing. Joseph carefully con- cealed from them the fact that he was their brother until the third visit, and then he made himself known to them — that he was none other than the brother whom they had sold long years before. This was not only a great surprise to them, but to the whole court, and very probably to the people of Egypt in gen- eral. In due time the news reached the ears 49 of Pharaoh himself. He was delighted to know that the brothers of Joseph had come to his capital ; and then he gave a signal proof of his confidence in Joseph and love for him, by directing him to tell his brothers to return home and bring back their father and all the household, promising that they should have for their future home the best of the land. Then Joseph gave special orders that wagons and food in abundance should be given his brothers for transporting the whole family from Palestine to Egypt, while to his father he sent a special gift of corn and bread and meat — in fact, a large sup- ply of the " good things of Egypt." When the sons of Jacob reached home and told their father the wonderful news that Joseph was alive, and that the family was invited to Egypt, he could not believe them at first. But when they related to him the exact words of Joseph, and, above all, when he saw the wagons which Jo- seph had sent to carry him and his fami- ly to Egypt, he believed them. He was 5o overwhelmed with joy. " It is enough,"- he exclaimed. " Joseph, my son, is yet alive. I will go and see him before I die." It often happens that good -fortune makes men blind to their former poor condition. They frequently imagine that they are the cause of their own prosperi- ty, and have no reason to acknowledge their obligation to a merciful Providence. History abounds in proofs of the ease with which wonderful success makes peo- ple cease to practise the sterling virtues which had characterized the early period ' of their career. Alexander the Great was most exemplary and virtuous when a youth, and remained so until his brilliant achievements in India. Then he became intemperate, ceased to exercise any con- trol over himself, and died in revelry. His great empire faded away like a mist in May. The young Napoleon of Ma- rengo was a far purer character than when, later, he planned the Russian cam- paign, and expected to have all Europe at his feet. 5i The very first act of Jacob on leaving his old home in Hebron for his journey to Egypt proves that the wonderful news of Joseph being yet alive, and the invita- tion of the King of Egypt for him and the household to go to his country and settle down in the best of the land, did not elevate him a particle. He was just as humble as ever, and knew well that all this good -fortune had come to him through the divine mercy. Besides, he was not willing to keep this matter se- cret; he wanted to make it public. He therefore, after beginning the journey, took his family to Beersheba, where he offered sacrifices to God. His pause for worship proved him to be the true ser- vant ; otherwise he would have hurried off in great haste to accept the flatter- ing offer of Pharaoh. The deliberation, the absence of all self-confidence, are beautiful examples of what the pure and noble character ought to be and to pos- sess when sudden prosperity comes. The richest country in Egypt was Go- 52 shen. It is that part of the land which lies between the eastern mouth of the Nile and the frontier of Palestine, and extends between the Mediterranean coast and the neighborhood of the Red Sea. Judah was sent on in advance to inform Joseph of the coming of Jacob and the family. Joseph let no time elapse before he made ready his chariot, and started off to greet his long-absent father. No hap- pier meeting between father and son ever took place. Jacob was so overjoyed that he forgot all about Pharaoh's invitation, and wanted to die. The fact that Jo- seph was alive, and not that he was the Governor of all Egypt, was the occasion of his joy. There was something very peculiar in the plan which Joseph adopted of intro- ducing the family to the King. He did not take his father first into the King's presence, but five of his brethren. Pha- raoh asked them what their occupation was, and when they told him that they were shepherds he assigned to them the 53 plentiful land of Goshen. He also gave special directions to Joseph as to placing the family in the " best of the land," and appointing proper members of the house- hold as rulers over the King's cattle. We now come to the culmination of this eventful history — Joseph leads his father into Pharaoh's presence. There certainly never was so singular an au- dience between a great King and an humble old man. No sooner was Jacob before Pharaoh than he pronounced a blessing upon him. Pharaoh was struck with Jacob's great age, and his question was, " How old art thou ?" Every word which Jacob spoke was, like all the rest of his actions, plain, simple, humble. He said that his life was a pilgrimage ; that it had lasted already one hundred and thirty years; that his days had been few and evil; and that he had but lived as long as his fathers. He then blessed Pharaoh again, and his affectionate son Joseph led him out of the King's au- dience-hall. 54 Let us now look beyond the dramatic incident of Pharaoh's reception of Jacob and his family, and his giving them a home in his country, and seek the cause which led to it, and the great and perma- nent result. Joseph had been a pure and noble man. No one ever passed success- fully through more severe tests. He had been in prison, though unjustly, but was patient, devout, trustful. His good con- duct opened the prison doors, brought him into Pharaoh's presence, and made him Governor over all the land. Had he been corrupt or once yielded to im- proper influences, he would never have been elevated to an important position. Besides, whenever a man acts nobly he helps his whole family. Almost every day we read of some one, often a son, bringing shame and disgrace not only upon himself, but upon his family. We never stand alone. We never go down or go up without taking our friends with us. Joseph could not be elevated without taking all the rest of the family up the stepway with him. So when JACOB BEFORE PHARAOH 57 the household of his father, seventy in number, came out of Palestine, and when the aged patriarch stood in Pharaoh's presence, and when the whole family set- tled down in the rich land of Goshen, the cause was as plain as noonday — -Joseph had been above reproach, and the father was honored for his sake. One of the strongest impulses towards a spotless char- acter and a blameless life should be, in every young person's mind, the certainty that such a life will bring honor upon every one in the whole family. Jacob and his sons and all the family remained as a permanent part of the Egyptian population. More than that, they founded in their new home a sep- arate people. Perhaps Joseph had a view to the necessity of keeping the family en- tirely apart from the Egyptians for all time to come when he told his broth- ers to tell to Pharaoh their real character — that they were shepherds. Now the Egyptians had once been conquered by a shepherd race, and they despised the 58 shepherd class ever afterwards. There was therefore no danger of the Egyptians ever intermarrying with the descendants of Jacob. The Israelites grew strong from century to century, developing with great rapidity, preserving their faith and ances- tral memories and attachments, and never acquiring the least sympathy with the corrupt faith of the people among Avhom they lived. Did the Israelites gain anything by re- maining in Egypt? Would it not have been just as well if they had gone back to Palestine after the famine was over, or have developed into a nation there ? Not at all. God had a purpose in their remaining in Egypt. They were to be a chosen peo- ple. They were to be the teacher of all nations. They were to be a nation which should possess the truth of God for uni- versal distribution. They were to be the people out of whom should come the Mes- siah for the salvation of the world. Now for this purpose the Israelites w r ere not only to be kept separate from all nations, 59 so as to preserve their own pure faith, but should learn lessons of perpetual value from the greatest, the most learned, the most advanced nation of the world. This is just what Egypt was. The Egyptian civilization was far beyond that of any other people. The great Israelit- ish deliverer, Moses, was " learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians." He was a direct descendant of Jacob, and at the same time he knew all that Egypt could give him. He was therefore able to lead, to teach, and to establish, as God's best instrument, the legislation for the Jewish people, and through them for the whole later world. But it is the peculiarity of the good disciple that he can often improve upon the lessons of an earlier day. While the Israelites learned much in Egypt, they improved upon some of their lessons. For example, they learned in Egypt the art of writing, but only its very elements. The square letters of the Hebrew alphabet they acquired there, but these were little 6o more than hieroglyphic signs. But the Israelites developed them afterwards into an alphabet, and founded for all time the principle of regular writing, or the mak- ing a sign to represent a sound. But in the joint matter of religion and philosophy the people of Israel received their instruc- tion.only from the divine Teacher. When they had been long enough in the coun- try to grow into a vast people, and had learned all that they needed for the fulfil- ment of their great mission as the world's teacher, the proposition for their deliver- ance was made by the oppressive ruler of Egypt himself. The Israelites were cru- elly treated. They made ready for their departure, escaped from the despotic Pha- raoh of the time, and started on their pil- grimage for the Land of Promise. In Egypt they reached the great result — one which we all need to reach — of never sur- rendering the good principles which we learn at home in early days, and at the same time of learning all the useful lessons we can from those with whom we associate. ffl>aMng Bricfca in jBqw* 1/ MAKING BRICKS IN EGYPT >UR young readers will naturally look at the picture, with its fig- ures and forms of labor hap- pily not now seen among us, but for all that full of sad suggestion. The men are carrying heavy burdens under the hot sun, whose heat is to dry and harden the bricks laid in order on the ground, and by-and-by to be carried and set in their places in the wall seen in the background. Two men are particu- larly to be noticed — one at the wall, and one at the end of the row of men laying the bricks on the ground. Each carries a long rod; one is holding it at his ease behind him, the other is about to lay it on the backs of the working slaves. These are the " taskmasters," and their features are not the same with those of the toilers. Of these some are carrying the clay, some 64 digging it out, and some erecting the brick walls. The usual way with the ancient Egyp- tians in some quarters was to dry the bricks in the sun, and even without straw they continue solid in walls erected four thousand years ago. On the other hand, where the bricks were made out of the Nile mud and similar material, they needed straw to prevent their cracking. Speci- mens of sun-dried bricks are to be seen in the British Museum, and many build- ings, or the remains of them, still exist, such as, according to old historians like Herodotus, kings employed their poor en- slaved captives in erecting. These points are mentioned here in connection with the picture, which is not merely for the eye, but is meant and adapted to suggest ideas to the mind, and to illustrate what is stated in plain language. Now we beg our young friends to turn in their Bibles to the opening chapter of the book of Exodus, and to give a care- ful reading to the story up to the fifteenth 65 verse. They will remember that Joseph, having been raised to a place of great in- fluence, encouraged his father and the great household of which he was one to come to Egypt; and, of course, as long as Joseph lived, and his great public ser- vice was gratefully remembered, they were treated with favor and enjoyed prosperity. It was a promise to their fathers that their offspring would increase and multiply, and in fulfilment of it the group of peo- ple that Pharaoh had welcomed — seventy in number (v. 5) — had now become so numerous that the monarch, who had nothing to do with or to recall Joseph's services (v. 8), and who ruled that part of Egypt (for all the land was not under one ruler), began to fear them. He dreaded what might happen. If a war broke out — and such events were common where rival races and leaders held portions of a great country — the Hebrews might side with the enemy, defeat him and his army, and so be free to "get them up out of the land." Incidentally he here confirms 66 the consistent narrative of the Bible. The descendants of Jacob had been told all along, no doubt, of the promises made to their fathers of another land to be all their own; and when they began to be treated as serfs and slaves, they naturally thought, and no doubt spoke, of this their expected movement. He meant to re- press them in numbers and in resources, and to keep them under control. We who live in the United States speak freely of our liberties and advantages. So we well may, and the deepest gratitude ought to fill our hearts when we look at the bondage in which pride, ambition, and the love of continued power have too often held the feeble. We are to be care- ful as to the use we make of our advan- tages, to do all we can to extend such blessings, and to remember that if ever we be tempted to abuse our power, the just Ruler, who is stronger than all na- tions combined, will humble and punish us. The end does not justify the means. Pharaoh, as a ruler who had freed his 67 people from an alien neighboring power, meant well, but his cruel and oppressive policy in the end led to defeat and ruin in the waters of the Red Sea. Goshen was (Gen. xlvii. 6) and still is the most fertile tract in Egypt. It is now known as Es-Shurkiveh. The new King, first of a new dynasty possibly, did not wish to lose an industrious race of vassals, but he meant to keep them dow r n and keep them under control. Hence the tasks imposed upon them, after the fashion of the time. And here it may be mentioned that much study is now being given to Egypt by learned men. In fact, a science is growing up called Egyptology. The proofs of the truth of thfe Bible thus given are many and wonderful. An in- scription, for example, believed by schol- ars to point to the twenty-second year of this Pharaoh, shows him rebuilding tem- ples and storehouses, and employing for- eigners for the doing of the work. Two cities particularly are mentioned in Script- ure, the names of which stand on Egyp- 68 tian monuments. One of them, Pithom, means " temple of Turn," the sun god. The sacred narrative is very emphatic as to the severity of the burdens laid on these Hebrews by the alarmed Egyp- tians, for the Hebrews continued to in- crease in number. The word " fellah, " a forced worker, is known to many. It comes from a word used by the Targum- ist Onkelos in describing the bondage un- der which the Hebrews groaned not only in the brick-making, but " in all manner of service in the field," which is thought to include digging of canals and process- es of irrigation, a kind of labor very un- healthy. Pithom and Raamses were both on a canal, which was often being en- larged. This oppressive policy went on till Moses and Aaron made the demand, of which we read in Exod. v. i, for leave for the Hebrews to go and hold a feast to Jehovah in the wilderness. They speci- fied a journey of three days into the des- ert. No doubt Pharaoh said in his mind: L XI 7i "Ah! just the thing I feared. They want to get away out of the land," although this three days' journey would not have im- plied crossing its borders. Accordingly he made 'the orders more rigorous. Straw was not to be given. The brick-makers must find it, and at the same time pro- duce the same " tale of bricks " as before. There were two classes of officers over them, showing how well organized the system had become. There were, first, the taskmasters, apparently of two class- es, one above the other, the latter called overseers ; then there were " officers of the children of Israel" (v. 14), held re- sponsible no doubt for " the tale of bricks." In a papyrus of the nineteenth dynasty the writer complains, " I have no one to help me in making bricks, no straw." The poor Hebrews had to roam over the land to get stubble. Here the scholars have made out two things which it is enough to state as results without trying our young readers with the proc- ess. The first is that this work would 72 be done after the harvest, the Egyptians then as now cutting off the ears, not the stalks of the grain. The second is that this period of the year, running over fifty days, is often most unhealthy, a pesti- lential sand wind blowing over the land. We can fancy their sufferings. Still the orders were for the full " tale " as when they had straw, but filled up they could not be. What then ? The over- seer, according to a representation of the whole plan found in a temple at Thebes, is armed with a heavy lash, and cries out, 11 Work without fainting.'' The lash was laid on the Hebrew officers, who remon- strated and (v. 14) appealed to Pharaoh in vain. The order was renewed, the straw was still withheld, and the charge was made that their plea about sacrificing to Jehovah was only a pretence, " Ye are idle, ye are idle" (v. 17). So Egypt became emphatically the " land of bondage " to Israel, and — showing how hard it is to interfere between the oppressed and the oppressor — the Hebrew officers say to 73 Moses and Aaron in effect : " Why, look at what you have done ! The Lord look upon you and judge. Instead of getting us relief, you have made our case worse than ever." It is a curious illustration of the simple truthfulness of the Bible story that it has the language which we now know from other quarters was common at the time. For instance, an Egyptian of rank who had a secretary to write his history thus berates the unhappy scribe: " Thou hast made mv name offensive, stinking, to all men." Read Exodus, v. 21, and you will see the point. We have now seen the condition of the toiling Hebrews in the years before they were set free. One or two things naturally suggested may be briefly indi- cated : i. The Hebrews learned something that was of use to them no doubt when they had to settle in Palestine. In the time of David they had brickkilns (2 Sam. xii. 31), and they forced on the Ammonites the very labors through 74 which their fathers had gone, let us hope with less severity. 2. God brings good out of evil. Go- shen was the most inviting and fertile part of Egypt, so if all had gone smooth- ly with the Hebrews they would not have wished to carry out Gods plan. Of this there is evidence enough. This Egyp- tian cruelty alienated them from the Egyptians, and made them willing to go. 3. Few things of the kind are more re- markable than the confirmation of Bible history given by the researches of our own time in the lands of the Old Testament. Egypt, Assyria, and other lands are be- ing explored, their monuments are being studied, their inscriptions are being trans- lated, their manners and usages are being depicted, and the more we have of the re- sults the clearer does it appear that the Scriptures are true to the truth of things in matters little and great as things ex- isted when they were written. The out- side evidence of the historic exactness of the books of Genesis and Exodus, for ex- 75 ample, is vastly fuller' and clearer to-day than when the New Testament was writ- ten. With many temptations to unbelief around us, w r e should be thankful for this aid to faith. little Samuel LITTLE SAMUEL [HEN I was a little boy of about six years old I was accustomed to be taken to church regu- larly by my parents on the first day of the week. I cannot say that I definitely remember any direct instruc- tion received at this date from the pulpit. I learned, no doubt, to sit quietly, so as not to disturb other people, and grew into habits of attention. But one memory stands vividly out before me still. My mother had a Bible, which I have now in my hand, not like other Bibles of the pe- riod, but one which she had taken out in numbers, and had bound for church use. It was about five inches long by three broad and two thick, with gilt edges, and finished with a flap, on the inner side of which was her name in gold letters ; but what charmed me most was the fact that 8o it had six engravings of Bible scenes, which I never wearied looking at, and the study of which did more for me, I verily believe, than any sermons heard by me at that time. The first of these pictures was a wood- cut from Sir Joshua Reynolds's painting of " Little Samuel," representing a little boy in his night-dress, apparently just risen from his first sleep, and kneeling on the floor with hands uplifted and an eager look upon his countenance, while beneath were the words, " Speak, for Thy servant heareth." There was for me a fascina- tion in this simple picture which held me like a spell, and I have never seen it since without emotion. It brings before me the whole story of Samuel, and as I look at it now I am a child again, sitting by my mother's side in the old pew. One immediate result of all this was to make me very eager to read the history of Samuel, that I might know all about him ; so I became familiar with the de- tails of his story — how his birth was in SAMUEL AND ELI 83 answer to his mother's prayer ; how, out of gratitude to God, she consecrated him from his infancy to the Tabernacle ser- vice; how he grew up there into the favor of the aged Eli ; how his mother came every year to see him, bringing him a new coat; and how, on the occasion to which the picture refers, the Lord called him, and gave him a message full of terri- ble forecast to the venerable High Priest. But that which interested me most was the statement that " Samuel ministered before the Lord, being a child girded with a linen ephod " ; and as I go back upon that now, I think it may fitly sug- gest the topic of early religion. For one thing, it tells us that it is pos- sible for a child to serve the Lord. It is not uncommon for young people to put off the matter of religion until they have grown older; but over and above the dan- ger thereby incurred, there is no need for such delay. True, we cannot expect that piety will show itself in a child in the same way as it does in those who are 8 4 grown up, but it may show itself just as really, for all that ; and wherever there is the spirit of trust in God, the willingness to learn out of His Word, and the de- termination to obey Him in everything, there true piety is. No matter, there- fore, how young we are, we can still, like Samuel, " minister before the Lord." And then the case of Samuel proves that there is no necessary connection be- tween early piety and early death. It has somehow come to be believed that these two things are inseparable. The very good children are said to be too good for this world, and children them- selves dislike the idea of early piety be- cause of their love of life. We have all heard of the little boy who, on recovery from a dangerous illness, said, " If I had been one of them pious, I'd have been a goner, sure I" But Samuel lived to be an old man and full of years. Nor was he an exception in this particular. The same thing is seen in the histories of Joseph and Moses and Daniel, and, in modern 85 days, some of the ripest old saints who have lived to fourscore years and more feared the Lord from their youth. Neither, again, does early piety pre- vent one from becoming distinguished in after-life. Samuel became Judge of Israel, which was, for the time, something simi- lar to President among ourselves. Dan- iel was Prime -minister at the court of Babylon. Joseph rose to the second place in Egypt, and in general it holds good that godliness has the promise of the life that now is as well as of that which is to come. Once more, Samuel was not a namby- pamby boy. He was, as we think of him and his life at the Tabernacle, a manly little fellow. He did not whimper con- tinually after his mother, but was always glad to see her when she came with the new coat ; and when he had to give that awful message to Eli, he did not quiver in the least, but gave it faithfully, though sadly. He was no milksop, nor tied to his mother's apron-strings. It is untrue S6 to say that religion in young or old is a mark of either physical or mental weak- ness, and those who would make us be- lieve that such is the case are false wit- nesses and children of the wicked one. Then, last of all, Samuel's life was a useful life. It filled a large place in the history of his people, and his influence was always for good. Wherever he went he was ministering before the Lord, just as he did when he was a little boy. Through life he was loved and honored by all, and when he died he was laid in the grave amid the lamentations of the people. Is there not something in a life like this attractive to us all, and will not every one of my readers make the prayer of the Christian poet his own ? — " Oh, give me Samuel's heart — A lowly heart, that waits Where in Thy house Thou art, Or watches at Thy gates — By day and night, a heart that still Moves at the breathing of Thy will," 2>avft> atto 3onatban { v DAVID AND JONATHAN 2 ^gl^ HE modern traveller in Pales- wA %?%? ^ ne w *^ fi nc *' a ^out three miles ^0^^ south of Hebron, a rounded hill or height of some hundred feet, which the Arabs call Tell Zif. It is some three miles northward from Car- mel, and half a mile east of it are some ruins, which are those probably of a cita- del used by the tribe (the Ziphites) from which the hill takes its name. There are indications that once the place was heav- ily wooded, and the lay of the land shows that before the forest was burned or cut away it must have been a tolerably secure fastness or retreat. There were two young men to whom, in an eventful crisis of their lives, it proved to be so. One of them was that youth, a little while before a shepherd boy, than whose history there is nothing more pict- 9o uresque or romantic in ancient or mod- ern times. A lad in his father's house, he goes one day to bring provisions to his brethren who were serving in King Saul's army. There was no commissa- riat, as we know the word, in those days. King Saul and his Captain of the host, Abner, would never have dreamed of the huge supply trains which nowadays ac- company an army. The soldiers were left largely to shift for themselves, and if they had friends within reach, these were expected to feed them — if they could. And so David goes to the Valley of Elah, where King Saul was encamped with his army. The shepherd-boy has with him an " ephah of parched corn " and ten loaves, and with these he went to find his breth- ren. The battle had been set in array, and the Israelites waited for a champion who would face the Philistine giant. They found him, but not where they looked for him, and David found that which, unlike a great many people, he had the vision to see and the courage to 9i seize — his opportunity. I may not tell his eventful story here, but there is one feature of it which any one of us who wants to do any worthy work in the world, whether for God or man, may well remember. I suppose that it was not only because the situation was so desper- ate, but because King Saul saw in Da- vid something that somehow made him believe in him, that led the King to say to David, " Go." But evidently he did not believe in him enough to be willing that he should go as he was. And so he harnessed him with a coat of mail, which David had no sooner tried on than he promptly and most sensibly took off. That is the difference between David and a great many people to-day. The world is full of men and women who are thinking what a grand fight they could make if they had somebody else's sword and helmet and coat of mail. A boy looks at a box of tools, and then at a fin- ished piece of work, and says, " Oh yes, I could make that if I had such tools to 92 make it with." David knew better than that. He had no use for any tool that he had not learned to handle, and on the other hand (and that I think was the finest feature of the whole business), he knew how, when the opportunity came for it, to do the largest piece of work with the very simplest possible tool. Such knowl- edge may almost be said to be the whole secret of any really great achievement of life. To know how, when the call for a great deed comes, to find in yourself, un- der God, the resources to meet it, and to put those resources to the best possible use ; that is pretty much the whole of it. If I were a boy and were choosing a coat of arms to be engraved on a seal, I think I should take David's sling and five stones, for that is just what they mean. And thus the lad took his first step on that steadily ascending pathway that led him " no step backward " to the high places of the world. Soldier, ruler, king, poet, singer, who has voiced the deepest cry of the human heart for all ages and 93 races and ranks of men — it all began, that bright, splendid, and though, alas ! not unstained, yet eternally instructive, even as it is infinitely pathetic, career, with that first choice of weapons. But long before that splendid career had approached its zenith there hap- pened the meeting of David and Jon- athan in the wood of Ziph. And that brings me to Jonathan — a character so noble and beautiful that one has rarely been found to match it. Jon- athan was the eldest son of King Saul, and a man of magnificent powers as a fighter. The story of the garrison at Michmash is a specimen of what he could do, and it is a story well worth read- ing. I may not tell it here, but this is the end of it : " And that first slaughter, which Jonathan and his armor -bearer made, was about twenty men, within as it were a half-acre of land, which a yoke of oxen might plough" (i Samuel, xiv. 14). Two against twenty at least, and twenty dead on the field. " It was like 6 94 butchers' work," we say. Yes, but those were days when men knew no better, and with Jonathan and his countrymen it was a matter of self-preservation. But the greatest charm in Jonathan was not his courage nor his skill as a soldier, splendid as these were, but his matchless loyalty as a friend. The time soon came when King Saul grew jealous of the youthful David, and not only drove him from his presence, but hunted him for his life. The rare gifts of David as a soldier, a leader, and a man had drawn to him the hearts of all the people, and the nation demanded him as its king. But if he was to be king, then Jonathan was shut out from the throne. No matter, said Jonathan, " thou shalt be king over Israel, and I shall be next unto thee" (i Samuel, xxiii. 17). And so we come to the story of the meet- ing at Ziph, and of that wonderful friend- ship which explains it. It is the first in- stance of such a friendship between young men, romantic, unchanging, and tenderly DAVID AND JONATHAN 97 devoted, of which we have any account in the pages of Hebrew history. Such friendships were not unknown in other his- tories. The story of Damon and Pythias, with its record of the heroic devotion of Damon, who, when Pythias, condemned to death, asks leave to return home and arrange his affairs, takes his place, ex- pressing his readiness to die for his friend if Pythias should not return, is matched by other heroisms of friendship in other classic pages than those of Greece. But none of them is more beautiful in its mutual loyalty and love than the story of David and Jonathan. Three times they met to pledge to one another an undying friendship, and three times circumstances which they could not resist nor control tore them apart. But their hearts were one until the end; and when it came, the cry that the death of Jonathan wrung from the lips of David was one so poig- nant, so passionate, and so pathetic that to-day one cannot read it without tears. The first of the three meetings was in 9 8 the camp of King Saul, by the Valley of Elah, when David returned with the head of the Philistine, Goliath of Gath. Be- side his father when the King challenged the stripling David with the question, "Whose son art thou, thou young man?" stood Jonathan, the heir to the throne. It reveals a very beautiful and very noble nature that at that moment there woke in his heart no other feeling than that of keen and enthusiastic admiration and af- fection. And David answered the King, " I am the son of thy servant Jesse the Bethlehemite." That was all that he said. But the way he said it, the simple, manly modesty of this young hero for God and his country, conquered the heart of Jonathan as in a moment. " And when David had made an end of speaking unto Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." And then followed the first sealing of the friendship, after the fashion of those days, by the pledges which Jonathan gave David to bind it — 99 his royal mantle, his sword, his girdle, and his famous bow. It was as though he had said : " You are worthier to wear these tokens of a kings son than I. Take them, and never forget that the two who first and last have possessed them are brothers." It was not always easy to keep that sacred bond in mind. David, hunted by his friend's father, was tempted more than once to forget what was due to his king, even when the King was crazed and maddened by jealousy. And Jonathan must have often seen that if he could for- get what he owed to his vow of friendship to David, it would be easy, by betraying him into the hands of his father, for a time at any rate, to bring again peace to Israel and honor to himself. But neither of them was shaken from his steadfast- ness. The time came when David, a fu- gitive from the face of Saul, was hiding by the stone of Ezel. Crouched under the huge rock, the solitary thing in the vast plain, he waited for the signal agreed upon IOO between Jonathan and himself. Presently it came in the arrows shot one after an- other beyond his hiding-place, and he knew that the King, more angry than ever, had determined that he should die. Nothing remained but to fly for his life. But before he does so, he comes out of his hiding-place into the open, prostrates himself three times before his friend, and then " they kissed one another, and wept with one another." The last meeting was far away in the forest of Ziph. The illustration, with its careful adherence to the scenery and cos- tumes of the time, tells us how it may have been. David had become the com- mander of an army — small indeed, but de- termined. Pursued by King Saul and his troops, he has intrenched himself and his followers in the strongholds of the wood, high up on a hill whose summit, clothed with thick foliage, at once screened him from observation and gave him easy com- mand of the surrounding country. Hither it is that Jonathan follows him, and pledges himself to him once more in words of un- dying constancy. They were words that David sorely needed to hear, for the army of the King had already wellnigh sur- rounded him, and he seemed caught as in a trap. It is at such a moment that Jonathan fearlessly seeks him in the for- est of Ziph, and reassures him as to the future. His father, he bids David believe, would not overtake him. " Fear not: thou shalt be king over Israel, and I shall be next unto thee; and that also Saul my father knoweth " ( i Samuel, xxiii. 17). The first part of that prophecy was soon to find fulfilment. But not so the rest. In a little while Jonathan fell, splen- didly fighting, at Gilboa, and David sang that elegy which will live in the hearts of men as long as they can own and honor loyal and unselfish friendship. And to- day, as the feet of the modern traveller stand where once stood the woods of Ziph, two names will spring unbidden to his lips — the names of young men mem- 102 orable for courage and patriotism, but, most of all, dear and beautiful for their heroic and unswerving constancy to one another. j£c-tl>er an& Hfoasucrus «5i «*