 | VI. Julian, or Scenes in Judea |  |
6. VI.
Fatigued by reason of our journey of the
preceding day, the sun was far advanced into
the heavens before the noise of the inn-yard
woke us from our slumbers, and we were ready
for the pleasing labor yet before us. Crowds of
travellers, in not more haste than ourselves,
surrounded the gate-ways with their camels,
asses, and other beasts of burden; some quarrelling
with Jael on account both of their entertainment,
and the sum he had demanded of
them; some with each other about some idle
distinction of nation or tribe; while a large
number pursued in quiet their own affairs, or
looked on and laughed at those, who, because
life did not present enough of necessary evils,
were seeking to multiply them. Jael moved
among them a sort of monarch, from the power
he possessed, not over others, but over himself,
therefore indeed, over others also. He was not
to be ruffled by any of the reproaches, which,
whether justly or not, were showered upon
him. Those who had abused him most he did
wish of peace, while from them he received,
perhaps, only curses in return.
“Jael,” said Onias, as we stood beneath the
shadow of a plane-tree, watching the scene,
while Ziba was making the last preparations;
“Jael is a man who lives for himself alone.
Though you behold him so pliant, and so
prompt to please and serve, and so patient under
what seem undeserved reproaches, he is yet as
void of faith, both toward man and God, as this
pomegranate-shell is of meat. His aim is but
one, his purse. And to fill this in the best
manner he justly thinks, is to attract by his
attentiveness and submissiveness to all, people
of all names and nations, — Jew, Samaritain,
Arab, or Roman, it is the same to Jael, and Jael
is the same to them. He is just to one, as soon
as to another; and will defraud one as soon as
another. In what proportion he is knave, and
in what honest, no one knows. When I am on
this road, and weary with the way, my feeling
is, and doubtless it is so with all, “here now
shall I be certain of such observances as hardly
my best friend could lavish upon me;” and I
approach the roof of Jael as if it were another
Beth-Harem. Behold there! how to that churlish
Greek he returns smiles and parting salutations
for railing.” He then approached us as
moment mounting our beasts and bidding him
farewell, he only wished us well on our way,
and we sallied forth from the yard.
“The sun shines not more constantly,” said
Onias, as we plunged into some deep, thick
shadows, beneath which the road here wound
along, “than the face of Jael; but while the
sun shines for others, Jael shines only for himself.
His smiles were frowns, unless each drew
fish of some sort to his net, birds of some sort
to his snare. He perceives no difference between
Roman, Greek, Jew, and Samaritan, but
as they contribute more or less to his wealth,
which grows and swells like Jordan in the early
rains. Though the land now lie cursed and
barren, and the enemies of the people of God
rise up around her, and dwell within her very
borders, carrying her not away into captivity,
but binding her a captive on her own soil, not
a finger would this man move for her deliverance.
Nay, rather, I doubt not, would he league
himself with the adversary, than that the base
traffic should suffer damage, which fills his
hands with gold. And many such there be
here, and over the face of the whole land, so
that were Messiah himself to come, I surely
think they would deny him, except he came in
Cæsar's name. Saw you not last night his
the Jordan?”
“It was evident enough,” I replied, “that
he liked them not. They foreboded in his ear
a new uproar as in Cæsarea. But in these rural
districts there could be little danger.”
“I know not that,” answered Onias; “the
people lie thickly sown among these deep
shades; we see them not, but they are for multitude
like the ripe seed of the mustard shaken
by the winds from the tree. A great cause
would call them up in hosts not easily numbered.
And a slight cause rouses them. For
if many be of Jael's nature, more are not. The
ears of the people are wide open to any sound
of liberty. The rulers, as is ever with those
who enjoy power, are indeed of another mind.
Change could do little for them in the best
event, and might shake them from their seats.
But the people do yearn, even as the hungry
for food, for the approach of some power that
shall raise them to their ancient place. They
await its coming with impatience.”
“They will then,” I said, “flock around this
prophet on the Jordan; if he be one in truth.
Yet we perceive no signs of it.”
“There are not a few,” rejoined my uncle,
“who, moved by what they deem a divine impulse,
go forth to teach and declare in the
what they might as well deliver within the
walls of the synagogue. These now cease to
stir the people. He, of whom Jael spoke,
seems to be of this order. There will be other
signs, — another approach, when He shall come.
Time will unfold what it shall.”
Onias here withdrew into himself, buried
in thought, of which he seemed to desire no
participator. So we then rode along in silence
together on our way; but soon wearying of
this, I left my uncle to his reflections, and
turned back to where Ziba was slowly toiling
along with his heavy-laden camel, that I might
hold discourse with him. As I reached him he
was singing at the top of his voice a song in
praise of the wines of Judea; but soon as I
joined him he broke off, saying, “that by the
song he was singing he was trying to lose the
taste of the vile drink that had been served to
him by the rogue Jael, which was more sour
than the visage of Ben-Ezra of Cæsarea. Truly,
those maids in the woods knew how to deal
with a stranger, camel-driver though he was.
They were no Samaritans after all, that was
certain. Their wine was sweet as a dried grape,
and it was poured out like water. Jael's, indeed,
was in abundance enough, but what signifies
an abundance of that which cannot be
it as fit for kings, and sweeter than wines
of Greece or Italy, with such oaths and smiles,
too, that one was ready to give the lie to his
own burning throat. Well, well, wait a while,
and the poorest of us will have better wine
than the best of Jael's.”
“How so? shall you all turn vine-dressers?
or what is to happen?”
“What is to happen? A Jew! and you know
not that? You may hear it every day with
your ears open. Things are not to remain as
they are. Some new kingdom is to be set up,
some say under Herod of Galilee. So the Herodians,
most of them, think. As others judge,
he who is to reign is yet, and shortly too, to
make his appearance, but how or whence, no
one knows, or can know. But why do I tell
you this, when you are yourself, I doubt not, a
scribe at least. Yet, methinks, I heard you
are from Rome.”
“I am from Rome,” I answered, “but still
I am a Jew.”
“What sort of Jews,” he asked, “are they
in Rome? I do not know that I should
think thee a Jew. Do they keep the law in
Rome?”
“Surely, or we were not Jews.”
“I see not that,” answered Ziba. “We
Jews.”
“There are two ways,” said I, “of keeping
the law; one is, to keep the letter of the law
only, as the Pharisees; the other, to observe
the letter, but keep it in its spirit too.”
“We only do the first here-abouts,” replied
the camel-driver. “There 's that Jael; he is
an elder of the synagogue hard by his inn.
You would think, to see him there, as I have
when on this road, that never a prophet loved
God like him; yet the next day shall you pay
him a full sum for sour wine, and your camel's
food shall be half chaff, while he will at the
same time so smile and affirm as to cheat you,
before he has done, out of your own judgment.
As I have heard the Prophets read and the Law,
they command not only to say prayers, offer
sacrifices, and go up to Jerusalem at the feasts,
but to be an honest man besides. Is it not
so?”
“Surely, I should think it so.”
“I warrant you it is, if it is anything. I truly,
do not keep the law any way; I am a camel-driver.
But this, that I have said, is the sort of
keeping I see in Cæsarea and Jerusalem. Ah!
what do I not know of some of those long-faced
Pharisees? Many is the time in Cæsarea I have
tracked them from the very doors of the synagogues
honest sinner like myself. None of your two-faced,
smooth-tongued, rotten-hearted knaves,
who, having cheated the world all the week,
think on the Sabbath to cheat God as well, by
their fastings and prayers. It is these, who
choose the highest places in the synagogues,
where we can all look on and see the game that
is played, that teach us to despise not them
only, but the law too. Such have more to answer
for than their own wickedness in the
judgment-day, who have not only not kept the
law themselves, but hindered those who would.
There 's many a ruler of a synagogue I have
known, who, if he were in the world to
come to keep company with Abraham, and
Isaac, and Jacob for his reward, it would not
be good company enough for Ziba, the camel-driver.”
“In the new kingdom you speak of under
Herod, or some other, you will look, I suppose,
to see all these things mended, shall you
not?”
“I know not as to that,” replied he; “as I
said, I shall then look to have plenty of wine,
— sweet wine, too, not such as Jael's — and
other such things, for the reason which is plain
enough, that the Romans will be driven off,
and all that now is stolen from us and carried
poor will have their share of it. And, perhaps,
vastly more than this, for the priests tell
of great things. But I believe less than half
of what a priest says. Some of them say the
kingdom will last a thousand years, and some
forever. Many good things might come to
pass in that long time, or even if less than half
as long.”
“But do you not suppose, that under Messiah
men will be honest, — honest and good?”
“I know not how that is to be,” said Ziba;
“I hear not much about it, that is all I can
say. They talk of great riches, great armies
and victories, and of having Rome under our
feet; and Romans for slaves, — dogs as they
are; — but they say little about keeping the
law any better then than now. And, by my
head, I think if there was much to be done
about that, we should hear less of the new
kingdom, than we do. But come, let us
prick on; there are travellers yonder about
to meet us, from whom we may learn news;
let us come up with thy companion, who lies
in wait for them under the shade.”
So saying, he urged his beast into a round
pace, and we soon came up with those who
were advancing from the region of the Jordan,
but who, before we reached them, were pausing
spreading trees. They were a company of
merchants from Philadelphia, beyond Jordan,
bound to Cæsarea. After the tedious ceremonies
of salutation were over, which in these
parts occupy as much space, as in Rome the
business itself would for which they are the
preparation, — Onias first asked them of the
prosperity of their city, and then of the country
round about them, and if there were of late
anything new concerning Arabia, which questions,
when they had been diligently answered,
and they had asked as many in their turn, and
received the desired replies from Onias, my
uncle then inquired of them concerning the
rumor which had met him at the inn of Jael
at Thebez, of a prophet, who had made his
appearance in the neighborhood of the Jordan,
and whether they had either seen him, or heard
of him. He, who seemed to be the principal
person of the company replied, that they had
crossed the Jordan at the ford just above Enon,
and had slept in that village, where indeed they
had heard of the person of whom Onias spoke,
but he was not now in those parts.
“What,” asked Onias, eagerly, “think the
people of him? and has he been at Enon?”
“He has not been at Enon,” answered
the other, “but passed by on this side the river.
what was reported of him on all sides, that he
was surely a prophet. They could speak of
nothing else at the inn where we lodged, but
we were too weary with the heat and travel of
the day to give much heed to what was said,
— besides that affairs of our own were to be
transacted. If, as would seem, you are bound
to the same ford at which we have crossed, you
will learn there more than we can tell. It were
better, I doubt not, for this wanderer, whosoever
he may be, to stay at home and attend
to affairs that concern himself alone. He who
would mend the state does the most in that
way, and most surely, when he keeps himself
and his own affairs whole. The Lord will
prosper the diligent. And when all are diligent,
each in his own business, then riches
are multiplied, and the whole land is a garden.”
“The wisdom of what you say,” replied
Onias, “is past all doubt. But then when men
are not diligent, when the wicked rule in the
land, when it is because men are the subjects
of Sin that they will not mind their affairs and
their households, what then shall be done?
Before they will become diligent, they must be
brought away from their wickedness; they must
be made to know that it is their sin that stands
between them and their own prosperity and the
they repent the vengeance of God, it may
well be feared, shall be poured out upon them,
as of old on these cities of the plain. But who
shall do this great work? Where is the rabbi
or the priest among us, who hath either wisdom
or power to reach ears that are dull as adders',
and hearts hard as the nether mill-stone?
Verily, we may despair for Israel, except the
Lord have compassion and send unto us whom
he will.”
“When the Lord sends or speaks,” rejoined
the other, “the signs of his presence will be
such as the eye cannot be blind to, but will see
and confess as it does the sun over our heads.
I learn not of any such signs, in this case; but
rather that he of whom we speak is some houseless
traveller, sordid and poor in his attire, and
likely to be in the keeping of some devil,
rather than his own wits. But you will hear
and know what you wish as you travel further
on. In the mean while the Lord keep you.
Come, neighbors.”
Saying this, and giving a blow to his ass,
he started on his way, followed by his companions
and their loaded camels; not concealing
by their loud talk and laughter, as they drew
off, that they held my uncle's earnestness in
light esteem. After the civil encounter of the
up, I had looked for a quite different interview;
but Ziba's opinion was perhaps a just one, that
they had hoped to drive some trade with us,
and seeing no hope of that as the conversation
was prolonged, but that we were quite another
sort of travellers, they scrupled not to vent
their vexation in the way they did.
As they disappeared, Onias broke forth; “A
besotted and ignorant people! what hope is
there of Judea? The one part are slaves to
Rome, another part are slaves to riches, and
another part are slaves to sin. Yet is the Lord
as capable to turn the heart of this people, corrupt
and stiff-necked as they are, as I the head
of the beast I ride. One thing is not easy and
another hard to him; one is not more easy than
another; nor one more hard than another. He
can take up all Rome in the palm of his hand,
and blow it into air, even as fine dust, and this
great plain of the earth itself can he crumble
into atoms by a word of his mouth, and it shall
vanish forever. What to him, then, is Judea,
and the hearts of all her people? Can he not
turn them whithersoever he will, and is there
any to hinder? The end of time is come, even
upon us; the days are fulfilled; and that, which
all who yet have hearts desire, shall come.
This broad land which to-day lies cursed and
may even to-morrow, if the Lord so will, (and
ere long the word shall go forth,) sit beneath
the shadow of her own king, and blossom as a
garden of roses. Shall Pilate longer reign where
David did? Shall this Roman Nebuchadnezzar
from the other side of the Great Sea forever
hold us in this worse than Babylonian bondage?”
These things, and more than these, did
Onias pour forth, rather as if uttering what was
passing through his mind, because it would
come to the lips, than as addressing me. Ziba
was in great astonishment, and doubted whether
he, who was so caught away from earth, were
not himself possessed of a spirit of prophecy.
He said, “that although he was but as one of
the wicked, yet when he heard one speak, who
seemed filled with a good spirit, he felt moved
toward him, and could be easily turned about
by him as he would. The priests and
elders,” he continued, “move me not, seeing
they read and speak as though their own
hearts gave not out what they said, but their
lips only. So that if it appear that they themselves
who know the law best, and are the
priests of God, are not persuaded of what
they declare, that it is true and excellent, how
can they persuade me? I have ever seen that
passages, full of windings and pitfalls, and
reported to be beset by robbers, they ever have
the faith which they behold in me. But I cannot
believe the priest, because he believes not
himself.”
I could not deny that he had reason on his
side in some good measure, and that until the
synagogue was reformed, he would find little
motive to change his way of life; yet, I added,
that surely all the synagogues were not alike, —
nor all the rulers and priests; he ought not to
make one stand for all; doubtless, there were
those, who were as pure as the law they
taught; I had known such in Cæsarea, and
even in Rome. Ziba, however, never had.
He believed there were none such, and that
their hypocrisies had succeeded in blinding me.
So have I found this poor man, even as I have
found many in Rome, having much good in his
heart, and many desires of what is better, yet
in truth believing in nothing, and trusting none
by reason of the deceits and vices, which he had
seen to be practised by those who have been
the ministers of religion.
Good men will ever make good men. And
even in the precincts, my mother, of the idol
temples of Rome, have I seen virtues to grow
up and flourish, and all good habits and customs
because there was any force in the faith they
had or thought they had in their gods, nor because
they themselves thought there was, but
only because they beheld sincerity, goodness,
and simplicity in the lives of the priests, who
urged such virtues upon them. If a priesthood
is pure, the faith of the people will be stable;
the reality, which their own hearts tell them
religion is, will not be contradicted by what
they see in the characters of those who profess
to know and believe more than themselves.
But so soon as the worshipper suspects the sincerity
or the virtue of the man, who makes it
his business to teach virtue and the law of faith,
then it seems to him the foundations on which
he had been standing are taken away from
under his feet, and all is darkness and doubt.
What has it been, — why should I forbear
to utter the truth, — but thy virtues, my
mother, which have preserved some faint light
of faith in my soul. Long before I could declare
the reasons why it was so, I felt that the
worship of our synagogue was day by day uprooting
the early religion which by thy care
had been planted in my heart. I used to tell
you of my thoughts, and how it was because of
what I knew or believed to be true of our Priest,
that I felt my youthful reverence for holy things
because of what I saw and heard of the divine
virtues of the venerable Saturnus, that I was
almost persuaded to become a worshipper in the
temple of Jupiter. They who gathered round
that excellent old man, and listened to his maxims,
but more than all, were daily witnesses of
the manner of his life, felt that there was nothing
so worthy and real as what they saw in
him, and they strove to become like him. This
was true faith. I heard and admired with them
as often as I could elude thy watchful eye, and
it was only thy image ever rising before me
that saved me from throwing myself into the
arms of an abhorred idolatry. For, I said, if it
is not what Saturnus believes of his Jupiter,
that draws me toward his temple, and I scarce
know what he believes — I am persuaded,
moreover, that whatever it is, it is a miserable
superstition — but simply the divine beauty of
his spirit and life, why for that should I esteem
his religion more than my own? Shall the virtues
of Saturnus, the Pagan, weigh with me
more than those of Naomi the Jewess? Are
they either more in number, or more god-like?
If the virtues of the Pagan bind the youth who
hear him to his faith, shall not the virtues of
Naomi bind her son to his? So that often as
for reasons, which thou knowest well, I was
and all belief of every kind and name, it was
still my unwavering faith in the reality of
virtue as seen embodied in my mother, that
held me back and taught me patience and humility.
I waited; and distrusting my power
at so young an age to determine questions so
weighty and difficult, resolved to believe in
virtue if in nothing else, because I saw in thee
that it was a something as stable and real as the
earth itself, and beautiful as the light.
Our road since we left the inn of Jael, had
run through a country with a surface gently
flowing like the summer waves of the sea,
rising and falling, but never with abruptness,
save that on our left at this point of our journey
there rose a steep and lofty hill. Soon leaving
that behind, the prospect before and around us
was wholly that of an extensive plain, crowded
with villages, covered with an abundant vegetation,
and giving tokens in the richness of the
soil, and universal verdure, of our approach to the
Jordan. As occasionally we emerged from the
deep and grateful shades, which were cast over
our road by the heavy-leafed trees of these
warmer regions, and gained a slight elevation,
we could see the waters of the river here
and there gleaming through the foliage. Next,
Enon rose before us, standing not far from its
affairs to despatch in that place, we made towards
it, although, as you will perceive by the
marks which I have set down of our journey,
it lies far out of a direct course from the hills of
Samaria to Beth-Harem. It was necessary that
Onias should tarry there a space, and besides,
as he assured me, although coming by the ford
of Enon would extend the line of our travel,
yet should we be abundantly repaid by the
greater pleasantness of the road, especially by
that part of it, which, between Enon and Beth-Harem,
lies on the bank of the river, and on its
eastern side.
After parting from the three merchants of
Philadelphia, the day being then far advanced,
we had met abundance of travellers, both such
as belonged to those regions, and such as
had come from different parts of Peræa and Arabia.
Of many had we made the same inquiries
as of the merchants, and from all obtained what
established the truth of the rumor which had
first met us at Thebez — that a stranger from
the south country had appeared on the Jordan
and in the districts on either side, about whom
the people were greatly stirred, but concerning
whom they did not seem to have learned anything
from which much could be gleaned as to
his real character and purpose. The expectations
appearance of him, whom they believe to have
been promised, they readily behold in any remarkable
qualities of an individual some of the
features, which they expect to distinguish that
great personage, and thus easily deceive themselves.
What we desire to see, we are apt to
think we see. So that although in this John
from Hebron, there be in truth none of the signs
which should announce the Messiah, all are
wondering within themselves, and to one
another, whether it may not be he. At Enon,
while Onias was prosecuting his business with
those whom he wished to see, we still continued
to ask the same questions of all, as on the road,
but without arriving at any knowledge that was
much more distinct; and what we heard from
one often was at variance from what we heard
from another; and this notwithstanding John
had already been on the Jordan near the place,
accompanied by some who had joined him as
followers; so difficult is it where the expectations
are of a certain character, to make up our
judgments according to the real appearances
before us, rather than in agreement with what
exists only in our own minds.
When Onias had ended what he desired to
accomplish in Enon, we set forth towards the
Jordan which now lay but a few furlongs from
delight this stream of which the name and history
had been so long familiar. I well remembered
how, as the feet of the Priests who bore
the ark touched its brim, the waters dried up,
and after they had passed over, the multitudes
of Israel followed in safety, notwithstanding it
was the time of harvest and the Jordan overflowed
all his banks — a miracle which for its
greatness is like those wrought in Egypt, and
which together show so evidently that God
manifested himself in those days to such, and
for such things, as he deemed worthy. At this
time of the year we found the river deprived of
more than half its waters by reason of the
drought; and so, although it seemed broad, broader
in truth than I had looked to find it, yet did it
also appear much more shallow, seeing that I
had overlooked the fact that, like all rivers
which take their rise among mountains, it is
subject to great inequalities, being swollen so as
to overflow its banks at the time the snows
melt and the early rains descend; and then during
the great heats of summer being diminished
in like proportion below its ordinary size. The
banks were thickly grown over with every kind
of shrub and tree, here and there overhanging
the waters, then retreating and leaving an open
space of clear grassy slope. The gaudy flowers
the sunlight, or else themselves sending out rays
of light by reason of their gorgeous colors, as they
grew among the deep shadows of the trees. Birds
too — now indeed silent through the heat of the
day — but of hues like flame, glanced hither and
thither amongst the branches of the willow or the
broad terebinth. And up and down on either
side of the stream were companies of the inhabitants
of the neighboring cities and villages,
reposing in the shade, or watching their children
as they pursued the shining insects that
darted through the air, or venturing into the
Jordan sported in its swift running waters.
The scene on either side of the stream, as it
wound its way along, was very beautiful to the
eye and the mind; and as we slowly bent our
steps to the water there where the ford was, and
entered it, we could not refuse, so inviting was
all around and not least the cool waves running
below, to linger and pause frequently as we
went over, each confessing that if we sought
to indulge our humor, it would be to remain just
there where we were through the heat of the
day. But as such pleasures must have an end
we presently reached the further side of the
river, and pursued our way on the Eastern bank
down toward Beth-Harem.
“Now,” exclaimed Onias, as we left the waters
bank, “are we within the Dominions of Herod,
who is in part at least a Hebrew; yet whether
a Hebrew but in part or not, it is he who should
now be king of Judea. Philip is not he. He
is too much the lover of peace for such times
as are to unfold. Herod was born for them.”
“Yet even Herod,” said I, “is subject to
Rome. It matters little who is king of the
Jews so long as he holds of the Romans, not
of us, or of God.”
“As the eye judges, Herod is truly subject
to Rome,” replied Onias. “But there are
those who serve and yet govern. Is Tiberius,
or Sejanus truly Emperor? There are those
who appear indeed to be among the low and
humble, who yet, by reason of the soul that
reigns within, are higher than monarchs. Some
though there be a crown of universal dominion
on their heads, are yet as nothing — nay as
dirt — in comparison of him on whom the
glory of the Lord rests. Tiberius is to-day the
absolute lord of the universe, but another may
be more than that to-morrow, before whom
that great Emperor shall humble himself as
a slave. Hast thou faith, Julian, in the prophets?”
I said that I had been duly instructed in
them by the piety of my mother, and that I
doubted not they were moved of God.
“Of whose kingdom then speaks the prophet,
when he says that his kingdom shall be everlasting?”
“I suppose I should answer, of the Messiah;
but I pretend not to know with exactness the
sense of the prophets. I am but a learner as
yet in my own religion.”
“Nevertheless,” said my uncle, “thou hast
answered well. Doubtless it is said of the
Messiah. His kingdom shall be from sea to
sea. Now, even now, is the time it were
come. But if God's Kingdom come now and
be universal, that of Rome shall be swallowed
up and lost as a drop of water in the
sea. May this thy kingdom speedily come,
O Lord, and thy servant behold its glory.”
My uncle as he uttered this ejaculation fell
into his musing frame from which it was a long
time ere he showed any disposition to return
and resume his discourse with me, which indeed
gives me not much light from his refraining,
as it were, to say all that is in his thought.
He does little more at any time than approach
the borders of somewhat that lies in his mind,
never fairly laying open the regions about
which he excites your curiosity. I presently,
however, asked him of Herod, of whom we
had just spoken and of whom I knew little,
and of a brother of his, who held some small
Judea.
“Herod,” he replied, “about whom you inquire,
the oldest living son of the great Herod,
and often known under the name of Antipas,
is one well able to reign over a larger dominion
than that which he possesses, which is indeed
but a pitiful rood of earth, if one compares the
territory with Rome or with what he is fit to
govern. He is of all the sons of Herod the
Great of the nearest approach to his father, in
respect to the vigor of his mind, and all qualities
that go to make a monarch worthy of his
name and empire. Especially does he possess
that far and deep seeing eye that penetrates the
purposes and minds of other men, and knows
how to lead them, and cause them to work his
will, whether or not they themselves would
choose to do so. He amazes by the sagacity
and subtlety of his devices. For while you
have deemed him to have been engaged in one
enterprise, or compassing one object, suddenly
it appears that he had a quite different end in
view, and those who look on can only admire
at a power which they cannot comprehend or
measure. A great destiny awaits him. The
central sun of Rome may yet grow dim before
what is now the feeble glimmering star of
Galilee.
“More surely and sooner,” continued Onias,
“might we look for such issue, could he work
according to his will with his brother who
governs as tetrarch in Trachonitis — Philip.
But in him we find none of the signs of true
greatness. He is a Jew indeed; but a Jew
with none of the ambition of the Jew. It is
enough for him to govern his little kingdom in
peace, administering justice among his subjects,
enlarging the borders of their prosperity, and
paying duly and without any signs of discontent
his subsidies to Rome — the proof and
the badge of slavery. Though mild and gentle
among his people, he is yet obstinate, and intractable
to the will of his brother, who hath
hitherto failed, with all his skill, to pour into
him a portion of his own spirit, and wake to
life a soul dead to his own honor and the greatness
of his country. Were another Antipas in
the seat of Philip, another day would soon arise
upon unhappy Israel. Yet though to the eye
of man mountains of obstruction intervene, all
is easy and the way smooth to the power of the
God of Abraham. A reed from the banks of
Jordan in his hand shall break in pieces the
earth. And by one, as well as by two or a
multitude, can he confound the counsels of
princes, and bring them and all their greatness
to nought. What was the rosy-cheeked David,
stones, to the giant of the Philistines with his
sword like a weaver's beam? Truly in himself
he was as a lamb before a lion lean with
hunger. But seeing Jehovah was in the arm
and sling of the boy, of what avail were the
sword and strong armor of Goliath? It matters
not neither how nor where Philip bestows himself,
nor whether he gives or withholds. Himself,
not Judea, will be the loser. So, too, touching
him who dwells in Jerusalem, Herod-Philip,
the affairs of the world can proceed without
him, even though he should refuse to his
brother the little power, which, by reason of
his descent alone, he holds over the populace
of the capital. Nevertheless, what he may
refuse, might be won through another.”
“You mean,” I said, “his wife.” For I had
heard of her through Philip and Anna in Cæsarea.
“Yes,” replied Onias. “I speak of her, the
daughter of Aristobulus, in whom lives all the
greatness of the great Herod. Had the providence
of God made her a son instead of a
daughter, the world had now been full of her
fame. Even as a woman much might be
achieved, but what can a lioness do yoked to a
mule? She must first break away from the
unequal bonds that yet hold her. Thou hast
not seen Herodias, Julian?”
“I have never been in Jerusalem,” I replied.
“But she is often in Cæsarea,” said Onias,
“and was there, as I have heard, at the games of
Herod; was it not so?”
“She was looked for, as was also her daughter,
with great expectation,” I replied, “but
they came not.”
“Doubtless,” answered Onias, “her husband
had intelligence of the expected tumult, and so
forbore to put himself where his presence might
have been taken amiss by Pilate. Yet I marvel
why Herodias went not; since it is no
less than the very life of her life to oppose her
proud and lofty beauty to the milder charms
of Procla, and so divide, at least, if not bear
away with triumph, the praises of the theatre.
Mayhap, however, Antipas was in Jerusalem.”
These things I set down, my mother, as
answering the questions you have asked concerning
this family. As I learn more from
thy close and reluctant brother, more will I
deliver.
We were now far on our way to Beth-Harem,
and ere the sun should leave us, we
should easily reach it. I was truly desirous
to arrive, as with my common impatience I
had become weary of my long communion
with Onias, relieved only at times by a little
jesting with Ziba, and not less with the
all along on either bank of the Jordan.
Yet was it, I believe, still more than these a
desire to behold the residence of Onias, and
the fair Judith, that occasioned my dissatisfaction
and some complaints, I fear, of the slow
progress we made. Much had been told me of
the estates of Onias by Philip; but more by
Anna of Judith, his daughter, “who,” she
would say, “is the bright star of Beth-Harem
and of all that region, and in her light you,
Julian, will forget this little dark shadow in
Cæsarea; but then, what is that to me? I am
content it should be so, while I can have the
love and friendship of Philip.” Alas! my
mother, that a light like that of Anna should
have been so early quenched! To her, and
her brother, do my thoughts continually turn
back, whenever the novelty or beauty of some
present object does not take me away from myself.
If Philip was rash and over-confident, he
was, nevertheless, brave, and a willing sacrifice
for the freedom of his country. No thought of
his own glory, I believe, ever had a moment's
place in his mind; it was rage at the oppression
of Judea, and a thirst of revenge that
drove him on, and swayed him so as to blind
him to the obstructions, which, mountain-high,
lay between him and the attainment
ruin and death as certain as his attempt.
Though I could never approve as wise the
measures which he pursued, and think it was
only passion and the spirit of revenge that
could justify them, — which truly justified all
that he did, and would have justified all he
could have done, or devised, — yet do I abhor the
wanton tyranny, which drove him to his rebellion,
and wait with impatience for the day that
shall witness a just retaliation. And this the
more, as the form of Anna rises before me as at
the moment I last beheld her, transfixed by a
Roman javelin, — that child of truth and nature,
who loved her country and her faith as Roman
never did, but who loved her brother more, and
concealed it not, but would confess that though
her reason sometimes doubted him, or rebelled,
her heart was ever stronger than her reason, and
made her the very counterpart of himself. Certain
I am, that no other will ever again so possess
my soul as Anna; yet had she lived, who
could have shared any portion of that love,
which was no longer hers to give, but was all
her brother's? Anna dead is to me, perhaps,
as much as Anna living ever could have been.
As thoughts and remembrances like these
arose in my mind on the way, I hardly wished
to see Beth-Harem. I would rather dwell
for Onias, nor Judith. But they quickly gave
way again to others, and I was ready to press
my uncle to make more speed. At a moment,
when I was in this latter mood, thy brother
said; “Behold, there are the walls of Beth-Harem!
We must now for a space part from
the river and turn our faces toward the hills.”
The sun was not far from his setting, and
was pouring over the land a whole flood of
yellow light, as we thus left the river and moved
on among the more broken and uneven lands
which lay toward the East. When we had
continued not long in the midst of such scenes,
passing among the rich fields of the husbandmen
with their simple dwellings half-hidden by
overhanging vines, or buried beneath fruit-trees,
we at length entered upon lands, which, by the
manner in which they were cultivated, and their
great extent, showed that we were approaching
the dwellings of some of the richer proprietors
of the soil. Soon, upon emerging from a grove,
through which our way had wound along, we
came upon open, level grounds, covered with
veneyards, olive-orchards, fields of grain, and
wide-spreading pastures, in the centre of which
upon a gentle elevation stood ranges of low but
extensive buildings, which I needed not my
uncle's exclamations to assure me were the
single terebinth of a great size were the only
trees immediately near it, as, except that for a
considerable space in every direction there
stretched out a smooth and verdant floor of turf,
the grounds on all sides were usefully devoted
to gardens and vineyards. Over and beyond the
fields and buildings of the “prince of these
regions,” were visible the walls and towers of
Beth-Harem, giving me to see that while it was
not a place of the largest size, neither was it
insignificant either for its extent, or the structures
whose outlines could be distinctly discerned,
gilded as they now were with the last
warm rays of the declining sun. Quickening
our pace, we soon threaded the winding way
which led from the public road to the house.
As we rapidly approached, Judith, followed by
her maids, hastened to meet us. Onias, springing
from his horse, tenderly embraced and
kissed her, asking a thousand questions of her
welfare, and of that of all the household.
Then, turning to me, he said, “and here is thy
half-gentile cousin of Rome, with his gentile
name, Julian, the son of Naomi; he is now thy
charge. Let him have no reason to say, that
the barns and store-houses of Onias refused to
open for him their best treasures.” “For his
mother's sake, and his own,” replied the daughter,
not deprive him of Jewish hospitality.” Onias
then leading the way, we entered the house.
The refreshment of the bath, in which, and
in other forms of washing, the Jews of Palestine
indulge yet more than we of Rome, soon
restored me to myself after the heat and fatigue
of our long journey. The household of Onias
I found to be numerous; composed, however,
not of his own descendants, — as Judith is
his only child, — but of members of our
large family from every part of the world,
whom he gathers round him, even as a patriarch
of old, exercising over them a sort of lower
providence. When we had eaten, we ascended
to the spacious roof, to pass the evening hours.
A broad tent was here spread to defend from
the dews which at this time of the year begin
to fall, and from the cool breezes which sometimes
spring up in the night, even after the day
has been oppressive through its heat. Here we
either sat and conversed, or else walking about,
I learned from the mouth of Judith the names
and directions of the principal objects in the
scene, being lighted up by a brighter moon than
it is ever our fortune to behold in Rome.
Onias seemed little disposed to join our discourse;
yet, whatever was his preference for a
close communion with himself alone, he never
We had been talking of Rome, Cæsarea, Philip
and Anna, of Pilate and Herod, to all which
Onias had given but little attention, when
Judith turned to him, and said;
“I hope, father, that now these long expeditions
will cease; or if they must still be undertaken,
that you will be persuaded to send our
new cousin in thy stead, who has not as yet
seen that region. But what of so great moment
can a vine-dresser, here on the banks of
the Jordan, have to do with princes?”
“My daughter,” replied Onias, “seek not to
know what may not be revealed; at least, not
as yet, nor to woman's ears. Let this suffice
thee, — that the vine-dresser of Beth-Harem is
not leagued with princes for any end which his
daughter could not approve, or Jehovah smile
upon.”
Judith, who had evidently spoken in a sportful
manner, seemed grieved by the grave reply
of her father, and hastened to say, “that she
doubted not her father; yet, could she not but
apprehend possible evil, when he was departing
so far from his wonted manner of life, and
binding himself to associates so different from
his former ones, as Herod of Galilee.”
Onias rose and walked to and fro upon the
roof.
Presently he asked if any had been impatient
to see him while absent. Judith replied,
none, save a messenger from Machærus. Had
he brought letters? asked Onias. No; his
communication must be with Onias himself.
He, then, kissing his daughter, and commending
her to her bed, and me to early repose
after the toil of our journey, descended to his
apartment; we following him, and resorting
also to ours.
| VI. Julian, or Scenes in Judea | |