CHAPTER XXV.
A RETROSPECT.
Hadassah had, in the meantime, been enduring the martyrdom of the heart.
When Zarah, under the escort of Abishai, left her home to attend thecelebration of the holy feast, Hadassah sent her soul with her, thoughfailing health chained back the aged lady's feeble body. In thought,Hadassah shared the memorial feast; in thought, partook of thesacrifice and joined in the hymns of praise. Her mind dwelt on thecircumstances attending the celebration of the first Passover, when,with loins girded and staff in hand, the fathers of Israel had takentheir last meal in Egypt, before starting for the Promised Land.
"Is not this the _Promised Land_ still?" thought Hadassah; "thoughthose who are as the Canaanites of old now hold it--though unhallowedworship be offered on Mount Zion, and images be set up within the wallsof Jerusalem. Yea, it is to Israel the Promised Land, till _every_prophecy be fulfilled; till the King come to Zion, _lowly and riding onan ass_ (Zech. ix. 9); till--oh, most mysterious word!--the thirtypieces of silver be weighed out as the price of the Lord and cast tothe potter (Zech. xi. 12, 18); till He shall speak peace to theheathen, and His dominion be from sea to sea, and from the river to theends of the earth (Zech. ix. 10). Faith looks backward on fulfilledprophecy with gratitude, on yet unfulfilled prophecy with hope. Zion'sbrightest days are to come. Her Lord crowned her with glory in thedays of old; but in the days which will rise on her yet, He shallHimself be to her as a diadem of beauty!" (Isa. xxviii. 5.)
Absorbed in such high contemplations, with hopes intensified by thevictories of Maccabeus--which seemed to her types and pledges ofgreater triumphs to come--time did not pass wearily with Hadassah untilthe hour arrived for Zarah's expected return. Even the delay of thatreturn did not at first seriously alarm Hadassah; circumstances mightrender it safer for the maiden to linger at Salathiel's house; shemight even be pressed to remain there during the night, should Syriansbe lurking about in the paths amidst the hills. Hadassah had so oftenattended meetings in the elder's dwelling, with or without hergrand-daughter, that habit had made her regard such attendance as lessperilous than it was now to be proved to have been.
But Hadassah on this night could not retire to rest. She could notclose her eyes in sleep until they had again looked upon her whom theHebrew lady fondly called her "white dove."
Midnight stole on, and Hadassah's heart, notwithstanding her courageand faith, became burdened with heavy anxiety. She made Anna lie downand rest; while she herself, notwithstanding her state ofindisposition, kept watch by the door.
Presently her ear caught the sound of footsteps, hurried yet stealthy.Hadassah heard danger in that sound, and opened the door withoutwaiting to know who came, or whether the steps would be arrested at herthreshold. The light which the widow held in her hand fell on acountenance ghastly with fear; she recognized the face of Salathiel,and knew before he uttered a word that he had come as the messenger ofdisaster.
"The enemy came--we fled over the roofs--Abishai is slain--Zarah in thehands of the Syrians!"
Such were the tidings which fell like a sentence of death on the ear ofHadassah! Salathiel could not wait to tell more; he must overtake hisfamily and with them flee for his life; and he passed away again intodarkness, almost as swiftly as the lightning passes, but, like thelightning, leaving behind a token of where it has been in the treewhich it has blasted!
Hadassah did not shriek, nor sink, nor swoon, but she felt as one whohas received a death-blow. She stood repeating over and over toherself the latter part of Salathiel's brief but fearful announcement,as if it were too terrible to be true. Had Zarah been taken from herby natural cause, the Hebrew lady would have bowed her head like Job,and have blessed the name of the Lord in mournful submission; but thethought of Zarah in the hands of the Syrians caused an agony of griefmore like that of Jacob, when he gazed on the blood-stained garment ofhis son and refused to be comforted.
For Hadassah loved the young maiden whom she had reared with theintensity of which a strong and fervent nature like hers perhaps aloneis capable. Zarah was all that was left to her grandmother in theworld, the sole relic remaining of the treasures which she once hadpossessed. It may be permitted to me here, as a digression, to give abrief account of Hadassah's former life, that the reader may betterunderstand her position at the point reached in my story.
Few women had appeared to enjoy a brighter lot than Hadassah, whenbeautiful, gifted, and beloved, a happy wife, a rejoicing mother, shehad dwelt near Bethsura in Idumea, the possessor of more thancompetence, and the dispenser of benefits to many around her. Hadassahhad in her youthful days an ambitious spirit, a somewhat haughtytemper, and a love of command, which had to a certain degree marred thebeauty of a character which was essentially noble.
Grief soon came, however, to humble the spirit and to soften thetemper. Hadassah was early left a widow, and heavily the grief ofbereavement fell upon one whose love had been passionate and deep. Twochildren, however--a daughter and son--remained to console her. Aroundthese, and especially her boy, the affections of Hadassah clung but tooclosely. Abner was almost idolized by his mother. If ambitionremained in her heart, it was ambition for him. He was her pride, herdelight, the object of her fondest hopes; Abner's very faults seemedalmost to become graces, viewed through the medium of Hadassah'sintense love.
Many years now flowed on, with little to disturb their even tenor.Miriam, the only daughter of Hadassah, was married to Abishai; Abnerwas united to a fair maiden whom his mother could receive love as adaughter indeed.
The Hebrew widow lived her early days over again in her children, andlife was sweet to her still.
Then came blow upon blow in fearful succession, each inflicting a deepwound on the heart of Hadassah. Both the young wives were taken in theprime of their days, within a few weeks of each other--Miriam dyingchildless, Naomi leaving but one little daughter behind. But theheaviest, most crushing stroke was to come!
When Seleucus, King of Pergamos, with the concurrence of the Romans,had placed Antiochus on the throne of Syria, the new monarch hadspeedily shown himself an active enemy of the faith held by hissubjects in Judaea. Onias, their venerable High Priest, was deposed,and the traitor Jason raised to hold an office which he disgraced. Agymnasium was built by him in Jerusalem; reverence for Mosaic rites wasdiscouraged. Both by his example and his active exertions, Jason, theunworthy successor of Aaron, sought to obliterate the distinctionbetween Jew and Gentile, and bring all to one uniformity of worldlinessand irreligion. In the words of the historian:[1] "The example of aperson in his commanding position drew forth and gave full scope to themore lax dispositions which existed among the people, especially amongthe younger class, who were enchanted with the ease and freedom of theGrecian customs, and weary of the restraints and limitations of theirown. Such as these abandoned themselves with all the frenzy of a newexcitement, from which all restraint had been withdrawn, to the licensewhich was offered to them. The exercises of the gymnasium seem to havetaken their minds with the force of fascination."
To temptations such as these, a disposition like that of Abner waspeculiarly accessible. His religion had never been the religion of theheart; his patriotism was cold, he prided himself upon being a citizenof the world. Unhappily, after the death of his wife, Abner had becomeweary of Bethsura, and had gone up to Jerusalem to divert his mind frompainful associations. He there came under the influence of Jason, andplunged into amusement in a too successful effort to divert his mindfrom sorrow.
Ambition soon added its powerful lure to that of pleasure. Abner metthe newly-made king shortly after his accession, and at once attractedthe attention and won the favour of the monarch. There was nothing butthe Hebrew's faith between him and the highest distinctions which aroyal friend could bestow. Abner yielded to the brilliant temptation;he parted with his religion (more than nominal it never had been),changed his name to that of Pollux, abandoned all his former friendsand pursuits, and attached himself entirely
to the Syrian court, thenusually residing at Antioch.
Abner, or, as we have called him, Pollux, dared not face his motherafter he had turned his back upon all which she had taught him torevere. The apostate never went near Bethsura again; he kept far awayfrom the place where he had passed his innocent childhood, the placewhere slept the relics of his young Jewish wife. Abner wrote toHadassah to inform her of what he termed the change in his opinions;told her that he had given up an antiquated faith, commended his littledaughter to her care, and asked her to forget that she herself had evergiven birth to a son.
Hadassah, after receiving this epistle, lay for weeks at the point ofdeath, and fears were at first entertained for her reason. She aroseat last from her sick-bed a changed, almost broken-hearted woman. Assoon as it was possible for her to travel, the widow left Bethsura forever. She could not endure the sight of aught to remind her of happierdays; she could not bear to meet any one who might speak to her of herson. Hadassah's first object was to seek out Abner, and, with all thepersuasions which a mother could use, to try to draw him back from acourse which must end in eternal destruction. But Abner was not to befound in Jerusalem, nor in any part of the country around it. He hadcarefully concealed from his mother his new name--the Hebrew was lostin the Syrian--Abner was dead indeed to his family and to hiscountry--and to Hadassah the courtier Pollux was utterly a stranger.
It was long, very long, before Hadassah gave up her search for Abner,and she never gave up either her love or her hope for her son.Affection with her was like the vein in the marble, a part of itself,which nought can wash out or remove. There was scarcely a waking hourin which the mother did not pray for her wanderer; he was often presentto her mind in dreams. And the character of Hadassah was elevated andpurified by the grief which she silently endured. The dross ofambition and pride was burned away in the furnace of affliction; theimpetuous high-spirited woman refined into the saint. Exquisitelybeautiful is the remark made by a gifted writer:[2] "Everything ofmoment which befalls us in this life, which occasions us some greatsorrow for which in this life we see not the uses, has nevertheless itsdefinite object.... It may seem but a barren grief in the history of alife, it may prove a fruitful joy in the history of a soul."
Hadassah's intense, undying affection for her unworthy son, led her toregard with peculiar affection the child whom he had left to her care.She loved Zarah both for his sake and her own. Zarah was the oneflower left in the desert over which the simoom had swept; her smilewas to the bereaved mother as the bright smile of hope. Hadassah, asshe watched the opening virtues of Abner's daughter, could not, wouldnot believe that the parent of Zarah could ever be finally lost. Godwould surely hear a mother's prayers, and save Abner from the fate ofan apostate. All that Hadassah asked of Heaven was to see her son onceagain in the path of duty, and then she would die happy. The love forAbner which still lived in the widow's bosom, was like the unseen firesthat glow unseen beneath the surface of the earth, only known by thewarmth of the springs that gush up into light. Even as those springswas the love of the widow for Abner's daughter.
[1] Dr. Kitto.
[2] Lord Lytton.