CHAPTER XIII
That evening,
before sunset, some women were washing clothes on the upper step of the flight
that led down into the basin of the Pool of Siloam. They knelt each before a
broad bowl of earthenware. A girl at the foot of the steps kept them supplied
with water, and sang while she filled the jar. The song was cheerful, and no
doubt lightened their labor. Occasionally they would sit upon their heels, and
look up the slope of Ophel, and round to the summit of what is now the Mount of
Offence, then faintly glorified by the dying sun.
While they plied
their hands, rubbing and wringing the clothes in the bowls, two other women
came to them, each with an empty jar upon her shoulder.
"Peace to
you," one of the new-comers said.
The laborers
paused, sat up, wrung the water from their hands, and returned the salutation.
"It is
nearly night - time to quit."
"There is no
end to work," was the reply.
"But there
is a time to rest, and -"
"To hear
what may be passing," interposed another.
"What news
have you?"
"Then you
have not heard?"
"No."
"They say
the Christ is born," said the newsmonger, plunging into her story.
It was curious to
see the faces of the laborers brighten with interest; on the other side down
came the jars, which, in a moment, were turned into seats for their owners.
"The
Christ!" the listeners cried.
"So they
say."
"Who?"
"Everybody;
it is common talk."
"Does
anybody believe it?"
"This
afternoon three men came across Brook Cedron on the road from Shechem,"
the speaker replied, circumstantially, intending to smother doubt. "Each
one of them rode a camel spotless white, and larger than any ever before seen
in Jerusalem."
The eyes and
mouths of the auditors opened wide.
"To prove
how great and rich the men were," the narrator continued, "they sat
under awnings of silk; the buckles of their saddles were of gold, as was the
fringe of their bridles; the bells were of silver, and made real music. Nobody
knew them; they looked as if they had come from the ends of the world. Only one
of them spoke, and of everybody on the road, even the women and children, he
asked this question - 'Where is he that is born King of the Jews?' No one gave
them answer - no one understood what they meant; so they passed on, leaving
behind them this saying: 'For we have seen his star in the east, and are come
to worship him.' They put the question to the Roman at the gate; and he, no
wiser than the simple people on the road, sent them up to Herod."
"Where are
they now?"
"At the
khan. Hundreds have been to look at them already, and hundreds more are
going."
"Who are
they?"
"Nobody
knows. They are said to be Persians - wise men who talk with the stars - prophets,
it may be, like Elijah and Jeremiah."
"What do
they mean by King of the Jews?"
"The Christ,
and that he is just born."
One of the women
laughed, and resumed her work, saying, "Well, when I see him I will
believe."
Another followed
her example: "And I - well, when I see him raise the dead, I will
believe."
A third said,
quietly, "He has been a long time promised. It will be enough for me to
see him heal one leper."
And the party sat
talking until the night came, and, with the help of the frosty air, drove them
home.
Later in the
evening, about the beginning of the first watch, there was an assemblage in the
palace on Mount Zion, of probably fifty persons, who never came together except
by order of Herod, and then only when he had demanded to know some one or more
of the deeper mysteries of the Jewish law and history. It was, in short, a
meeting of the teachers of the colleges, of the chief priests, and of the
doctors most noted in the city for learning - the leaders of opinion,
expounders of the different creeds; princes of the Sadducees; Pharisaic
debaters; calm, soft-spoken, stoical philosophers of the Essene socialists.
The chamber in
which the session was held belonged to one of the interior court-yards of the
palace, and was quite large and Romanesque. The floor was tessellated with marble
blocks; the walls, unbroken by a window, were frescoed in panels of saffron
yellow; a divan occupied the centre of the apartment, covered with cushions of
bright-yellow cloth, and fashioned in form of the letter U, the opening towards
the doorway; in the arch of the divan, or, as it were, in the bend of the
letter, there was an immense bronze tripod, curiously inlaid with gold and
silver, over which a chandelier dropped from the ceiling, having seven arms,
each holding a lighted lamp. The divan and the lamp were purely Jewish.
The company sat
upon the divan after the style of Orientals, in costume singularly uniform,
except as to color. They were mostly men advanced in years; immense beards
covered their faces; to their large noses were added the effects of large black
eyes, deeply shaded by bold brows; their demeanor was grave, dignified, even
patriarchal. In brief, their session was that of the Sanhedrim.
He who sat before
the tripod, however, in the place which may be called the head of the divan, having
all the rest of his associates on his right and left, and, at the same time,
before him, evidently president of the meeting, would have instantly absorbed
the attention of a spectator. He had been cast in large mould, but was now
shrunken and stooped to ghastliness; his white robe dropped from his shoulders
in folds that gave no hint of muscle or anything but an angular skeleton. His
hands, half concealed by sleeves of silk, white and crimson striped, were
clasped upon his knees. When he spoke, sometimes the first finger of the right
hand extended tremulously; he seemed incapable of other gesture. But his head
was a splendid dome. A few hairs, whiter than fine-drawn silver, fringed the
base; over a broad, full-sphered skull the skin was drawn close, and shone in
the light with positive brilliance; the temples were deep hollows, from which
the forehead beetled like a wrinkled crag; the eyes were wan and dim; the nose
was pinched; and all the lower face was muffed in a beard flowing and venerable
as Aaron's. Such was Hillel the Babylonian! The line of prophets, long extinct
in Israel, was now succeeded by a line of scholars, of whom he was first in
learning - a prophet in all but the divine inspiration! At the age of one
hundred and six, he was still Rector of the Great College.
On the table
before him lay outspread a roll or volume of parchment inscribed with Hebrew
characters; behind him, in waiting, stood a page richly habited.
There had been
discussion, but at this moment of introduction the company had reached a
conclusion; each one was in an attitude of rest, and the venerable Hillel,
without moving, called the page.
"Hist!"
The youth
advanced respectfully.
"Go tell the
king we are ready to give him answer."
The boy hurried
away.
After a time two
officers entered and stopped, one on each side the door; after them slowly
followed a most striking personage - an old man clad in a purple robe bordered
with scarlet, and girt to his waist by a band of gold linked so fine that it
was pliable as leather; the latchets of his shoes sparkled with precious
stones; a narrow crown wrought in filigree shone outside a tarbooshe of softest
crimson plush, which, encasing his head, fell down the neck and shoulders,
leaving the throat and neck exposed. Instead of a seal, a dagger dangled from
his belt. He walked with a halting step, leaning heavily upon a staff. Not
until he reached the opening of the divan, did he pause or look up from the
floor; then, as for the first time conscious of the company, and roused by their
presence, he raised himself, and looked haughtily round, like one startled and
searching for an enemy - so dark, suspicious, and threatening was the glance.
Such was Herod the Great - a body broken by diseases, a conscience seared with
crimes, a mind magnificently capable, a soul fit for brotherhood with the
Caesars; now seven-and-sixty years old, but guarding his throne with a jealousy
never so vigilant, a power never so despotic, and a cruelty never so
inexorable.
There was a
general movement on the part of the assemblage - a bending forward in salaam by
the more aged, a rising-up by the more courtierly, followed by low
genuflections, hands upon the beard or breast.
His observations
taken, Herod moved on until at the tripod opposite the venerable Hillel, who
met his cold glance with an inclination of the head, and a slight lifting of
the hands.
"The
answer!" said the king, with imperious simplicity, addressing Hillel, and
planting his staff before him with both hands. "The answer!"
The eyes of the patriarch
glowed mildly, and, raising his head, and looking the inquisitor full in the
face, he answered, his associates giving him closest attention,
"With thee,
O king, be the peace of God, of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob!"
His manner was
that of invocation; changing it, he resumed:
"Thou hast
demanded of us where the Christ should be born."
The king bowed,
though the evil eyes remained fixed upon the sage's face.
"That is the
question."
"Then, O
king, speaking for myself, and all my brethren here, not one dissenting, I say,
in Bethlehem of Judea."
Hillel glanced at
the parchment on the tripod; and, pointing with his tremulous finger,
continued, "In Bethlehem of Judea, for thus it is written by the prophet,
'And thou, Bethlehem, in the land of Judea, art not the least among the princes
of Judah; for out of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my people
Israel.'"
Herod's face was
troubled, and his eyes fell upon the parchment while he thought. Those
beholding him scarcely breathed; they spoke not, nor did he. At length he
turned about and left the chamber.
"Brethren,"
said Hillel, "we are dismissed."
The company then
arose, and in groups departed.
"Simeon,"
said Hillel again.
A man, quite
fifty years old, but in the hearty prime of life, answered and came to him.
"Take up the
sacred parchment, my son; roll it tenderly."
The order was
obeyed.
"Now lend me
thy arm; I will to the litter."
The strong man
stooped; with his withered hands the old one took the offered support, and,
rising, moved feebly to the door.
So departed the
famous Rector, and Simeon, his son, who was to be his successor in wisdom,
learning, and office.
Yet later in the
evening the wise men were lying in a lewen of the khan awake. The stones which
served them as pillows raised their heads so they could look out of the open
arch into the depths of the sky; and as they watched the twinkling of the
stars, they thought of the next manifestation. How would it come? What would it
be? They were in Jerusalem at last; they had asked at the gate for Him they
sought; they had borne witness of his birth; it remained only to find him; and
as to that, they placed all trust in the Spirit. Men listening for the voice of
God, or waiting a sign from Heaven, cannot sleep.
While they were
in this condition, a man stepped in under the arch, darkening the lewen.
"Awake!"
he said to them; "I bring you a message which will not be put off."
They all sat up.
"From
whom?" asked the Egyptian.
"Herod the
king."
Each one felt his
spirit thrill.
"Are you not
the steward of the khan?" Balthasar asked next.
"I am."
"What would
the king with us?"
"His
messenger is without; let him answer."
"Tell him,
then, to abide our coming."
"You were
right, O my brother!" said the Greek, when the steward was gone. "The
question put to the people on the road, and to the guard at the gate, has given
us quick notoriety. I am impatient; let us up quickly."
They arose, put
on their sandals, girt their mantles about them, and went out.
"I salute
you, and give you peace, and pray your pardon; but my master, the king, has
sent me to invite you to the palace, where he would have speech with you
privately."
Thus the
messenger discharged his duty.
A lamp hung in
the entrance, and by its light they looked at each other, and knew the Spirit
was upon them. Then the Egyptian stepped to the steward, and said, so as not to
be heard by the others, "You know where our goods are stored in the court,
and where our camels are resting. While we are gone, make all things ready for
our departure, if it should be needful."
"Go your way
assured; trust me," the steward replied.
"The king's
will is our will," said Balthasar to the messenger. "We will follow
you."
The streets of
the Holy City were narrow then as now, but not so rough and foul; for the great
builder, not content with beauty, enforced cleanliness and convenience also.
Following their guide, the brethren proceeded without a word. Through the dim
starlight, made dimmer by the walls on both sides, sometimes almost lost under
bridges connecting the house-tops, out of a low ground they ascended a hill. At
last they came to a portal reared across the way. In the light of fires blazing
before it in two great braziers, they caught a glimpse of the structure, and
also of some guards leaning motionlessly upon their arms. They passed into a
building unchallenged. Then by passages and arched halls; through courts, and
under colonnades not always lighted; up long flights of stairs, past
innumerable cloisters and chambers, they were conducted into a tower of great
height. Suddenly the guide halted, and, pointing through an open door, said to
them,
"Enter. The
king is there."
The air of the
chamber was heavy with the perfume of sandal-wood, and all the appointments
within were effeminately rich. Upon the floor, covering the central space, a
tufted rug was spread, and upon that a throne was set. The visitors had but
time, however, to catch a confused idea of the place - of carved and gilt
ottomans and couches; of fans and jars and musical instruments; of golden
candlesticks glittering in their own lights; of walls painted in the style of
the voluptuous Grecian school, one look at which had made a Pharisee hide his
head with holy horror. Herod, sitting upon the throne to receive them, clad as
when at the conference with the doctors and lawyers, claimed all their minds.
At the edge of
the rug, to which they advanced uninvited, they prostrated themselves. The king
touched a bell. An attendant came in, and placed three stools before the throne.
"Seat
yourselves," said the monarch, graciously.
"From the
North Gate," he continued, when they were at rest, "I had this
afternoon report of the arrival of three strangers, curiously mounted, and
appearing as if from far countries. Are you the men?"
The Egyptian took
the sign from the Greek and the Hindoo, and answered, with the profoundest
salaam, "Were we other than we are, the mighty Herod, whose fame is as
incense to the whole world, would not have sent for us. We may not doubt that
we are the strangers."
Herod
acknowledged the speech with a wave of the hand.
"Who are
you? Whence do you come?" he asked, adding significantly, "Let each
speak for himself."
In turn they gave
him account, referring simply to the cities and lands of their birth, and the
routes by which they came to Jerusalem. Somewhat disappointed, Herod plied them
more directly.
"What was
the question you put to the officer at the gate?"
"We asked
him, Where is he that is born King of the Jews."
"I see now
why the people were so curious. You excite me no less. Is there another King of
the Jews?"
The Egyptian did
not blanch.
"There is
one newly born."
An expression of
pain knit the dark face of the monarch, as if his mind were swept by a
harrowing recollection.
"Not to me,
not to me!" he exclaimed.
Possibly the
accusing images of his murdered children flitted before him; recovering from
the emotion, whatever it was, he asked, steadily, "Where is the new
king?"
"That, O
king, is what we would ask."
"You bring
me a wonder - a riddle surpassing any of Solomon's," the inquisitor said
next. "As you see, I am in the time of life when curiosity is as
ungovernable as it was in childhood, when to trifle with it is cruelty. Tell me
further, and I will honor you as kings honor each other. Give me all you know
about the newly born, and I will join you in the search for him; and when we
have found him, I will do what you wish; I will bring him to Jerusalem, and
train him in kingcraft; I will use my grace with Caesar for his promotion and
glory. Jealousy shall not come between us, so I swear. But tell me first how,
so widely separated by seas and deserts, you all came to hear of him."
"I will tell
you truly, O king."
"Speak
on," said Herod.
Balthasar raised
himself erect, and said, solemnly,
"There is an
Almighty God."
Herod was visibly
startled.
"He bade us
come hither, promising that we should find the Redeemer of the World; that we
should see and worship him, and bear witness that he was come; and, as a sign,
we were each given to see a star. His Spirit stayed with us. O king, his Spirit
is with us now!"
An overpowering
feeling seized the three. The Greek with difficulty restrained an outcry.
Herod's gaze darted quickly from one to the other; he was more suspicious and
dissatisfied than before.
"You are
mocking me," he said. "If not, tell me more. What is to follow the
coming of the new king?"
"The
salvation of men."
"From
what?"
"Their
wickedness."
"How?"
"By the
divine agencies - Faith, Love, and Good Works."
"Then"
- Herod paused, and from his look no man could have said with what feeling he
continued - "you are the heralds of the Christ. Is that all?"
Balthasar bowed
low.
"We are your
servants, O king."
The monarch
touched a bell, and the attendant appeared.
"Bring the
gifts," the master said.
The attendant
went out, but in a little while returned, and, kneeling before the guests, gave
to each one an outer robe or mantle of scarlet and blue, and a girdle of gold.
They acknowledged the honors with Eastern prostrations.
"A word further," said Herod, when the ceremony was ended.
"To the officer of the gate, and but now to me, you spoke of seeing a star
in the east."
"Yes,"
said Balthasar, "his star, the star of the newly born."
"What time
did it appear?"
"When we were
bidden come hither."
Herod arose,
signifying the audience was over. Stepping from the throne towards them, he
said, with all graciousness,
"If, as I
believe, O illustrious men, you are indeed the heralds of the Christ just born,
know that I have this night consulted those wisest in things Jewish, and they
say with one voice he should be born in Bethlehem of Judea. I say to you, go
thither; go and search diligently for the young child; and when you have found
him bring me word again, that I may come and worship him. To your going there
shall be no let or hindrance. Peace be with you!"
And, folding his
robe about him, he left the chamber.
Directly the
guide came, and led them back to the street, and thence to the khan, at the
portal of which the Greek said, impulsively, "Let us to Bethlehem, O
brethren, as the king has advised."
"Yes,"
cried the Hindoo. "The Spirit burns within me."
"Be it
so," said Balthasar, with equal warmth. "The camels are ready."
They gave gifts
to the steward, mounted into their saddles, received directions to the Joppa
Gate, and departed. At their approach the great valves were unbarred, and they
passed out into the open country, taking the road so lately travelled by Joseph
and Mary. As they came up out of Hinnom, on the plain of Rephaim, a light
appeared, at first wide-spread and faint. Their pulses fluttered fast. The
light intensified rapidly; they closed their eyes against its burning
brilliance: when they dared look again, lo! the star, perfect as any in the
heavens, but low down and moving slowly before them. And they folded their
hands, and shouted, and rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
"God is with
us! God is with us!" they repeated, in frequent cheer, all the way, until
the star, rising out of the valley beyond Mar Elias, stood still over a house
up on the slope of the hill near the town.
CHAPTER XIV
It was now the
beginning of the third watch, and at Bethlehem the morning was breaking over
the mountains in the east, but so feebly that it was yet night in the valley.
The watchman on the roof of the old khan, shivering in the chilly air, was
listening for the first distinguishable sounds with which life, awakening,
greets the dawn, when a light came moving up the hill towards the house. He
thought it a torch in some one's hand; next moment he thought it a meteor; the
brilliance grew, however, until it became a star. Sore afraid, he cried out,
and brought everybody within the walls to the roof. The phenomenon, in
eccentric motion, continued to approach; the rocks, trees, and roadway under it
shone as in a glare of lightning; directly its brightness became blinding. The
more timid of the beholders fell upon their knees, and prayed, with their faces
hidden; the boldest, covering their eyes, crouched, and now and then snatched
glances fearfully. Afterwhile the khan and everything thereabout lay under the
intolerable radiance. Such as dared look beheld the star standing still
directly over the house in front of the cave where the Child had been born.
In the height of
this scene, the wise men came up, and at the gate dismounted from their camels,
and shouted for admission. When the steward so far mastered his terror as to
give them heed, he drew the bars and opened to them. The camels looked spectral
in the unnatural light, and, besides their outlandishness, there were in the
faces and manner of the three visitors an eagerness and exaltation which still
further excited the keeper's fears and fancy; he fell back, and for a time
could not answer the question they put to him.
"Is not this
Bethlehem of Judea?"
But others came,
and by their presence gave him assurance.
"No, this is
but the khan; the town lies farther on."
"Is there
not here a child newly born?"
The bystanders
turned to each other marvelling, though some of them answered, "Yes,
yes."
"Show us to
him!" said the Greek, impatiently.
"Show us to
him!" cried Balthasar, breaking through his gravity; "for we have
seen his star, even that which ye behold over the house, and are come to
worship him."
The Hindoo
clasped his hands, exclaiming, "God indeed lives! Make haste, make haste!
The Savior is found. Blessed, blessed are we above men!"
The people from
the roof came down and followed the strangers as they were taken through the
court and out into the enclosure; at sight of the star yet above the cave,
though less candescent than before, some turned back afraid; the greater part
went on. As the strangers neared the house, the orb arose; when they were at
the door, it was high up overhead vanishing; when they entered, it went out
lost to sight. And to the witnesses of what then took place came a conviction
that there was a divine relation between the star and the strangers, which
extended also to at least some of the occupants of the cave. When the door was
opened, they crowded in.
The apartment was
lighted by a lantern enough to enable the strangers to find the mother, and the
child awake in her lap.
"Is the
child thine?" asked Balthasar of Mary.
And she who had
kept all the things in the least affecting the little one, and pondered them in
her heart, held it up in the light, saying,
"He is my
son!"
And they fell
down and worshipped him.
They saw the
child was as other children: about its head was neither nimbus nor material
crown; its lips opened not in speech; if it heard their expressions of joy,
their invocations, their prayers, it made no sign whatever, but, baby-like,
looked longer at the flame in the lantern than at them.
In a little while
they arose, and, returning to the camels, brought gifts of gold, frankincense,
and myrrh, and laid them before the child, abating nothing of their worshipful
speeches; of which no part is given, for the thoughtful know that the pure
worship of the pure heart was then what it is now, and has always been, an
inspired song.
And this was the
Savior they had come so far to find!
Yet they
worshipped without a doubt.
Why?
Their faith
rested upon the signs sent them by him whom we have since come to know as the
Father; and they were of the kind to whom his promises were so all-sufficient
that they asked nothing about his ways. Few there were who had seen the signs
and heard the promises - the Mother and Joseph, the shepherds, and the Three - yet
they all believed alike; that is to say, in this period of the plan of
salvation, God was all and the Child nothing. But look forward, O reader! A
time will come when the signs will all proceed from the Son. Happy they who
then believe in him!
Let us wait that
period.
