CHAPTER XXXV.

  THE BATTLE-PRAYER.

  Lycidas was a native of the very land of eloquence; he had been, as itwere, cradled amidst "thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." Hehad studied the philippics of Demosthenes, and felt the spirit of thedead orator living in them still. Lycidas had listened to theeloquence of the most gifted speakers of his own time, expressing inthe magnificent language of Greece thoughts the most poetic. He hadexperienced the power possessed by the orator on the rostrum, thetragedian on the stage, the poet in the arena, to stir the passions,subdue by pathos, or excite by vehement action. But never had theAthenian listened to any oration which had so stirred his own soul, asthe simple prayer of Judas Maccabeus before the battle of Bethsura.There was no eloquence in it, save the unstudied eloquence of theheart; the Hebrew but uttered aloud in the hearing of his men thethoughts which had made his own spirit as firm in the hour of danger aswas the steel which covered his breast.

  There was much in the scene and in the congregation to add to theeffect of the act of worship on the mind of Lycidas. He beheldadoration paid to no image formed by man's art, no fabled deity,capricious as the minds of those in whose imaginations alone he hadexistence, but to the holy, the high and lofty One who inhabitetheternity, "whose robe is the light, and whose canopy space." And itwas in no building raised by mortal hands that Maccabeus bent his kneeto the Lord of Hosts. He knelt on the soil of the glorious land whichGod had given to his fathers--the one spot chosen out from the expanseof the whole mighty globe to be the scene of events which wouldinfluence through eternity the destinies of the world! On the verge ofthe southern horizon lay Hebron, where had dwelt the father of thefaithful, where the ground had been trodden by angels' feet, and thefeet of the Lord of angels, with whom Abraham had pleaded for Sodom.It was that Hebron where David had reigned ere he was hailed king overall Israel. And the nearer objects were such as gave thrillinginterest to the prayer of the Asmonean prince: the view of the towersof Bethsura which he was about to assail, the hosts of the enemy whomhe--with far inferior numbers--was going to attack; this, perhaps, evenmore than associations connected with the past, made every word ofMaccabeus fall with powerful effect on his audience.

  And that audience was in itself, probably, the noblest that could atthat time have been gathered together in any laud, not excepting Italyor Greece. It was composed of men whom neither ambition nor the lustof gold had drawn from their homes to oppose an enemy whose forcegreatly exceeded their own. In face of the trained warriors of Syriawere gathered together peasants, artizans, shepherds, animated by thepurest patriotism, and the most simple faith in God. Every man in thatkneeling army knew that he carried his life in his hand, that in caseof defeat he had no mercy to expect, and that victory scarce lay withinthe verge of probability according to human calculation; yet not acountenance showed anything but undaunted courage, eager hope, firmfaith, as the weather-beaten, toil-worn Hebrews listened to and joinedin the supplications of their leader.

  But it was the character of that leader himself which gave the chiefforce to his words. If Maccabeus the Asmonean received the lofty titleof "Prince of the sons of God," it was because his countrymenacknowledged, and that without envy, the stamp of a native royalty uponhim, which needed not the anointing oil or the golden crown to add toits dignity. Any nation with pride might have numbered amongst itsheroes a man possessing the military talents of a Miltiades, with thepurity of an Aristides; one whose character was without reproach, whosefame was unstained with a blot. Simple, earnest faith was themainspring of the actions of Maccabeus. The clear, piercing gaze ofthe eagle, energy like that with which the strong wing of the royalbird cleaves the air, marked the noble Asmonean; for the soul's gazewas upward toward its Sun, and the soul's pinion soared high above thepetty interests, the paltry ambition of earth. As there was dignity inthe single-mindedness of the character of Judas, so was there power inthe very simplicity of his words. I will mar that simplicity by nointerpolations of my own, but transfer unaltered to my pages theAsmonean's battle-prayer.

  "Blessed art Thou, O Saviour of Israel, who didst quell the violence ofthe mighty man by the hand of Thy servant David, and gavest the host ofstrangers into the hand of Jonathan, the son of Saul, and hisarmour-bearer! Shut up this army in the hand of Thy people Israel, andlet them be confounded in their power and horsemen; make them to be ofno courage, and cause the boldness of their strength to fall away, andlet them quake in their destruction. Cast them down with the sword ofthem that love Thee, and let all those that know Thy Name praise Theewith thanksgiving!"

  When the tones of the leader's voice were silent, there was for amoment a solemn stillness throughout the martial throng; then fromtheir knees arose the brave sons of Abraham, prepared to "do or die."