Myron did justice to this pathetic elegy; and they descended Tabor together.

Their journey was now directed to Bethshan or Scythopolis, the place at which the Galilean pilgrims were wont to cross the Jordan, in order to avoid the Samaritans, by keeping on the other side as low down as Bethabara, where they crossed it again. The line from Dor on the Mediterranean to Bethshan formed the boundary between Samaria and Galilee. Galilee contained two hundred larger and smaller towns, some of the latter having as many as 15,000 inhabitants. Agriculture, fishing, and pasturage, the culture of the vine and the olive, all were carried on with success in this country, which is diversified with hills and plains, both of them abounding in water. The inhabitants were characterised by their love of freedom, though both their language and their manners were corrupted by their great intercourse with foreign nations.

They quitted Galilee at Bethshan, and crossing the Jordan pursued their journey along the numerous windings of the stream, which from Bethsaida to the Dead Sea has a course of seventy-two sabbath-days’ journies. Succoth,^[138] where Jacob built huts, near Mahanaim,^[139] a town on the Jabbok, (so named by him from the vision which was granted to him there) Debir^[140] and Bethabara, were hastily passed. At length the Jordan opened into the plain of Jericho; they passed through the city gate and soon reached the hospitable mansion of Selumiel. The gate, with its pious inscriptions,^[141] opened to receive them; Myron was astonished at the splendour of the house; while Helon thought only that this was his happy home.

Helon found no one in the front court, and hastily entered the inner court, followed by Myron. The slave came to tell them, that there was no one in the house.

“Where are they, then?”

“In Helon’s house,” said the slave with a smile; and informed him that Selumiel, Elisama, Iddo, the wife of Selumiel, Sulamith, and Abisuab with his wife, had gone out a few hours before, in order to receive him in the newly-purchased house. They had justly calculated that he would return this evening.

Helon heard this intelligence with joyful surprise, and easily divined the fact, that out of his affection for Sulamith, who wished not to be separated from her parents, Elisama had purchased a house for him in Jericho; and if not in Jerusalem, where could he be better pleased to dwell than in the City of Palms? The splendid mansion was to be a nuptial present to his beloved nephew. It is true that the property must return to its owner in the year of Jubilee, and the contract for it was therefore rather a lease than a purchase; but a considerable price had nevertheless been set upon it, which Elisama’s wealth enabled him easily to pay.

The slave showed them the way to the house which stood near the opposite gate, so that they had to traverse the whole length of the city. A slave had been waiting for some hours before the gate, and upon a signal given by him to those within, all the males of the company were in waiting to bid him welcome.

“See,” said Selumiel, “the rewards of self-denial!”

“Welcome, my brother, and henceforth fellow-citizen of Jericho,” said Abisuab.

Helon, with moistened eyes, threw himself into the arms of Elisama. All stood around, pouring out congratulations and blessings.

“What more do we want,” said Elisama, “but that thy mother from Alexandria were here?”

Helon looked around with inquiring eye. Selumiel took him by the hand, and led him through to the richly furnished inner court. Her mother and sister-in-law came with Sulamith from the Armon. After their greetings had been exchanged, Helon, at the command of Elisama, as now the master of the house, re-conducted them to their apartments. Bewildered with joy, he could scarcely speak. After a short interval they all returned to the house of Selumiel, to the evening meal, and at night Elisama, Helon, and the Greek, returned to the house of Helon, where they thenceforth resided. Myron was in astonishment at all he saw, and began to form a very different idea of Israel from that which he had entertained before.

On the following morning Helon arose early, and traversed the house which was to be the scene of his future happiness and duties. No other feeling in life resembles that with which the youth, on the point of emerging into manhood, wanders in solemn musing through the house in which he is to sustain the duties of husband and father. As he explored its courts, its porticoes, and chambers, by turns, he admired the commodious arrangement and tasteful architecture, and the costly furniture, or blessed the generous Elisama; or raised his thoughts in pious gratitude to Jehovah, and implored the continuance of his mercies. He ascended the roof, and looked westward towards the hills of Judah, and eastward to Nebo and Abarim. Entering the Alijah, he consecrated it as the future scene of his devotions by prayer to Jehovah. As he arose from his knees, turning involuntarily towards Jerusalem, he broke out in the words of the psalm:

As he turned round, Elisama was behind him at the door, and was wiping the tears from his eyes. “May Jehovah bless thee,” said he. “His counsel is wonderful, and he will bring it to pass.”

“God grant me,” said Helon, “that I may keep his law with a perfect mind.”

“May he give thee what thy psalm says,” replied Elisama. “Now that thou art a priest and a husband in the promised land, I doubt no longer. Marriage is a divine ordinance, and the divine blessing rests upon it. This I myself experienced, alas, for too short a time! God said, It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helpmate to be with him.^[142] And the Preacher says, There is one alone, and not a second; yea, he hath neither child nor brother, yet is there no end of all his labour, nor is his eye satisfied with riches. For whom do I labour (he should ask himself) and bereave my soul of good? This also is vanity and a fruitless travail.”^[143] Elisama sighed and proceeded, “Two are better than one: they have a good reward for their labour: for if they fall the one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him that is alone! for when he falleth he hath not another to lift him up. Helon, I had once a wife and a child—and I was happy. What have I done that such bliss—? but I will say no more. The children of my brother are my children; thou art my son; and I rejoice in thy happiness as my own. The marriage state is a service of Jehovah, and one of the most effectual means of the fulfilment of his law. By this image he has denoted the relation between himself and the people of his covenant. But let me hear thine own lips describe the blessing that awaits thee. Rehearse to me the conclusion of the book of Proverbs; and bethink thee what is implied in this, that the great master of wisdom could devise no better termination of his precepts, than the praises of a virtuous wife.”wife.”

Helon began:

The preparations for the nuptials were speedily made in both houses. The numerous female companions of Sulamith assembled in Selumiel’s Armon. The bride, who had just completed her fourteenth year, was conducted to a bath, at which, gratification for all the senses was properly provided for her, and for all her young companions. After bathing, she was anointed with the choicest perfumes, and her friends brought their gifts, consisting of clothes and costly articles, most of them made by themselves. Her hair was perfumed and braided, her eyebrows deepened with a powder of brilliant black, and her nails coloured red. Next, the young maidens, her companions, arrayed her in the nuptial robes, of the finest texture and most brilliant colour, which flowed with ample folds to her feet. The girdle was clasped around her waist, the veil hung down from her head, and high above all her other ornaments rose a crown, from which the bride was called the crowned.

The evening was come, and the stars twinkled on the court, where all was prepared for festivity. Now appeared Helon, anointed and crowned in a similar manner, with the sons of the bride-chamber. They were the young priests and Levites of Jericho, who had been invited for this purpose; and Myron was among them. Each of them, to the number of seventy, bore a staff in his hand, on which was fixed a shallow vessel filled with burning oil and pitch. The festal train was admitted into Selumiel’s inner court; the bride and the virgins came forth from the Armon, and the youths and maidens, with aduffes and guitars, sung, in alternate strophes, the praises of the bridegroom and the bride.

Now began the ceremony of conducting the bride to the bridegroom’s house. The seventy youths, with their flambeaux, headed the procession; the bride was surrounded by her bridemaidens. Thus Sulamith left her father’s house: arrived at the threshold, the feelings which she had struggled to suppress, the mingled emotions of hope and fear, of regret and joy, overpowered her, and she burst into a flood of tears. The mother too wept, pressed her beloved daughter to her breast, and blessing her said, “Be thou the mother of a numerous posterity, like Rachel and like Leah!” Selumiel supported his child in his strong paternal arms, and said, “God, I thank thee that I have lived to see my child happy!”

The sounds of joy were heard from the companions. Sulamith was placed in a litter, and her nurse beside her. All the females were closely veiled; Sulamith in a veil of flame-colour. The long train moved through the streets of Jericho. A multitude of persons preceded, carrying the clothes, trinkets, and new furniture of the bride. As each carried only one thing, the procession was very long. Next came the friends of the bridegroom with Helon; then the bride in her litter, accompanied by the virgins. The rest of Helon’s friends, male and female servants, and children, closed the train. All the inhabitants of Jericho hastened from their houses, or looked down from their roofs.

Thus at length they reached the house of Helon. The bride paused at the threshold of the dwelling, in which so much happiness or misery might await her, as if with a timid irresolution. She adorned the door-posts with woollen fillets, and anointed them with oil, and at length the virgins suddenly lifted her over the threshold, the boundary between her past and her future life. The nuptial train entered the courts, and the bride solemnly took possession of the Armon, while the male part of the company remained in the outer apartments, where a splendid feast was served up to them. When all had eaten and were satisfied, males and females assembled in the inner court; the virgins presented the bride, the youths the bridegroom, to Selumiel. In evident agitation, he said, “Blessed be thou, O Lord our God, who didst create Adam and Eve! Blessed be thou, O Lord our God, who causest Zion to rejoice in her children! Blessed be thou, O Lord our God, who makest the bride and the bridegroom to be glad together!” Then taking the right hand of his daughter, he placed it in the right hand of Helon, and pronounced the benediction: “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you, and help you together, and give his blessing richly upon you! Jehovah make the wife that comes into thy house like Rachel and like Leah, who built up the house of Israel!^[144] May thy house be as the house of Malchia, thy fathers’ father, and your sons be priests to minister before Jehovah in his temple!”

Selumiel, while he pronounced this blessing, struggled with an emotion which he was unwilling to betray; and Elisama stood near him, giving freer vent to his feelings. The bride sobbed beneath her veil, and Helon was melted into tears.

Kindred and friends now approached the married pair, and bestowed on them their congratulations. The feast ended with the usual ceremonies.

On the following morning the nuptial festivities began afresh, and lasted for seven days,^[145] each distinguished by some new expression of joy. Numerous presents were brought to the newly married pair by the guests; and others given to them in return. The company exercised their ingenuity in riddles and maschals; or a grave and learned rabbi would discourse on the sanctity and duties of the marriage state, and the honour and happiness of those who might thus be appointed to give birth to the Messiah.

This protracted festival was at times wearisome to Sulamith and Helon, who longed to begin their tranquil, solitary, and domestic life. In the mean time, Helon was delighted to discover every day some new perfection in Sulamith, some new resemblance to the maidens and mothers of Israel in times past. Her domestic virtues assimilated her to Sara; her poetical imagination to Miriam, the sister of Moses; her disinterestedness and self-devotion to the daughter of Jephthah; and her artless piety to Hannah, the mother of Samuel.

It was determined that the young married pair should proceed with Myron, immediately after the marriage, to Alexandria, to fetch Helon’s aged mother from Egypt, in time to attend the feast of Tabernacles. Elisama was to remain in the mean time at Jericho, least, as he observed, he should bring on her the imputation of being a false prophetess. Alas! he little knew what a melancholy accomplishment her prediction was about to receive, and in his own person. The departure was delayed—neither Sulamith nor Helon was impatient for it, and Myron was very willing to remain. Helon found scarcely any thing left him to wish. All his expectations of outward prosperity were fulfilled, and he flattered himself that he was as near the summit of spiritual perfection as of earthly bliss. The deep veneration which Sulamith expressed for his purpose of becoming a Chasidean, regarding him as already being all that he purposed to become, inspired him by degrees with a high opinion of his own righteousness. His present happiness seemed to him a sign of the favour of Jehovah. Accustomed to regard all calamity as a divine judgment for sin, all prosperity as the reward of virtue, he considered his present condition as a mark of the distinguished approbation of God. His conscience seemed to join the league and promote his self-deception; his tenderness for Sulamith, his readiness to make little sacrifices of his wishes to hers, his gratitude and affection towards her parents and his own benefactor Elisama, were magnified by him into a complete obedience to the divine commands, into something more than mere righteousness. As those are apt to do who have experienced hitherto uninterrupted success, he began to think that every thing which he undertook must be successful—that his mountain stood strong and should never be moved. He never, alas, thought of inquiring how much youth and good fortune, the sense of pleasure and pride of heart, had to do in the construction of this showy edifice of self-righteousness.

Myron, during the first days of his residence at Jericho, found himself in circumstances so different from what he had expected, that he held it prudent to keep back as much as possible, and become better acquainted with the scene and its personages, before he trusted himself to act upon it. Hence during the festivities of the nuptials, he had been a quiet and unobtrusive spectator, and had recommended himself to the Jewish youths by the easy flexibility of his manners. He had particularly attached himself to Selumiel, after the tumult of rejoicing had subsided, and those who were left together had leisure to seek out the persons who were most congenial to themselves. If he ever offended Elisama, by some expression savouring of heathenism, which now and then seemed to drop from him involuntarily, Selumiel took his part. He soon discovered Selumiel’s partiality for the Essenes, and completely won his heart by telling him, that the Tomuri of Dodona, the Orphici of Thrace, the Curetes in Crete, were either degenerate branches of these Jewish devotees, or had endeavoured to form a similar association of wisdom and sobriety, but had remained at a much lower point in the scale of perfection. Selumiel took him with him everywhere, even when he went in the evening to the gates of the city, where the men of Jericho assembled to pass the cool hours in conversation. Helon, of whom he stood most in awe, happened to turn the discourse upon the superiority of Israel to the worshippers of idols, and pointed out the absurdity of the worship of the Egyptians and earlier Samaritans, among whom Apis was revered under the form of a bull; Moloch of a mixed figure, partly man, partly calf; Dagon was represented as having the lower part of a fish; Tartac, as an ass; Nibbaz, as a dog. All expected to see Myron provoked by this attack upon his religion; but to their great astonishment he not only assented to all that Helon had said, but entertained the company, the whole evening, with ludicrous tales of the adventures of the Grecian gods. The grave Orientals were delighted with him, because his manners were diametrically the reverse of their own. While they sat immoveable in the position which they had once taken, he on his light and nimble feet turned this way and that, alert to seize every opportunity of mirth; ready to converse with those who were disposed for conversation, or to talk alone when others were silent. Amused with his lively sallies, they encouraged him to proceed from one freedom to another, till he thought that every thing was allowed to him.

It chanced that a man passed by, loaded with a heavy burthen, and hanging down his head like one conscious of ignominy. He had been detected in frauds a few days before, and as a punishment his beard had been cut off. The finger of scorn was pointed at him by the whole assemblage, and the unfortunate man slunk hastily away. “How strange,” said Myron, “that you should set so much value on a huge tuft of hair upon your chins, that one who has been deprived of it dares not show himself in your presence; and yet you seldom have taste enough to give it an elegant form! Look for example at Elisama, who thinks so much of his beard; what an unsightly encumbrance it is to him.” Encouraged by the laughter which arose from the younger part of the assembly, he approached Elisama, and plucked him by the beard; little aware that to an Oriental, and especially a Jew, such an action was one of the grossest outrages that could be committed—an attack upon the very sanctuary of his personal dignity. Helon sprung to interpose—but it was too late. Elisama arose, with glowing cheeks, and a look in which the expression of the wildest rage grew every moment stronger. His limbs trembled; his features were distorted, his hair stood on end, and his breast heaved with a feverish gasp. “Accursed heathen!” he exclaimed in fury, “accursed heathen!” he repeated, and drawing his sword, aimed a blow at Myron. The offender, awakened to a consciousness of what he had done, saw the weapon about to fall on him and evaded the stroke; a citizen of Jericho, whom the tumult of the assembly had pushed forward, received it, and fell mortally wounded at Elisama’s feet. In silent horror all stood around, and looked by turns on the murderer, the corpse, and the author of the mischief. The whole city hastened to the spot; Myron escaped; and Selumiel, taking the unconscious Elisama by the hand, led him home. Helon, preceding them, burst with a cry of horror into the house, exclaiming, “Woe, woe—homicide—Elisama!” The women hastened from their apartments, and knew not the cause of the confusion. Selumiel entered with Elisama—one in eager haste, the other bewildered, with fixed eye and open mouth. “Bring horses, bring camels, bring any beast of burden,” exclaimed Selumiel. “Thou hast slain him, Elisama, and must flee before the avenger of blood.” “Whither?” asked Helon. “To a city of refuge—to Hebron in Judah—to Bezer in Reuben—to Ramoth Gilead best of all.” At these words Elisama awoke from his trance. Tears flowed from his aged eyes as he exclaimed, “Merciful God, must I in my old age flee as a murderer, and die by the hands of the avenger?” His voice was choked with sobs.

Two rapid dromedaries, ships of the desert, were brought. Helon accompanied the unhappy man. It was already night, and they passed unobserved out of Jericho. Without a salutation, or an adieu, they urged their flight, in dread lest the avenger should be on their traces; Elisama with his hair loose, his turban floating on the wind, and death on his countenance.

It was one of the most terrific customs of the east, that the next of kin of any one who had been slain, even unwittingly, was deemed infamous if he did not avenge him, by putting to death the man who had killed him. Moses, unable to eradicate this custom, had mitigated it by the appointment of six cities of refuge, three on each side of the Jordan, in which the unintentional homicide might be safe from the vengeance of the Göel.^[146] In these cities, and for a thousand yards around, he could not be touched—if he ventured beyond these limits, before the death of the high-priest, the Göel might lawfully kill him. The roads and bridges leading to the city of refuge were to be kept in repair, that the fugitive might not be impeded in his flight. The avenger was called Göel, as being stained and impure, till he had acquitted himself of his obligation. The son of the citizen of Jericho whom Elisama had killed, had been fetched from the field, and had gone forth to avenge his father; but he was too late: Elisama had already reached Ramoth Gilead in safety.

On the following morning a judicial investigation was held. The seven judges took their places in an apartment at the gate, crouching on carpets; beside them sat two Levites; Selumiel, who represented the accused person, stood on the left; the avenger of blood, as the complainant, on the right. Selumiel was clad in mourning and with disordered hair. Behind him were the witnesses whom he had brought with him; and who, before they delivered their testimony, took an oath, and replied Amen, Amen, to the imprecationsimprecations which the judges laid upon them, if they should not speak the truth. They bore witness that Elisama had harboured no malice against the deceased, and had not intended to smite him, but had been provoked by the insult of a young heathen. The judges did not immediatelyimmediately decide, but on the following morning a second sitting was held, at which they pronounced that Elisama, of Alexandria, had committed an involuntary homicide, and that the privilege of the city of refuge was decreed to him. As he had already taken refuge in Ramoth Gilead, a Levite was sent with a letter to the judges and elders of that place, commending him to their protection.

Selumiel, who had remained behind to attend the judicial proceedings, determined to go and see Elisama; and Sulamith could not be dissuaded from accompanying him. Ramoth Gilead lay on the other side of Jordan, in the country called in ancient times Gilead; a country not so fruitful as this side, from its many mountains and sandy deserts, yet rich in pasturage for cattle, and watered by two considerable streams, the Arnon and the Jabbok; the former empties itself into the Dead Sea, and the latter into the Jordan. The hills of Basan, Gilead, and Abarim, extending from Antilibanus, send their branches through this country. It was given on the conquest of Canaan to the tribes of Gad and Reuben and the half tribe of Manasseh,^[147] as their residence. Ramoth, situated on the Jabbok, was the principal city, celebrated in history by the vow of Jephthah,^[148] and the battle between Ahab and Jehoshaphat and the Syrians.^[149]

On their arrival they learnt that Elisama was dangerously ill. The agitation of mind and fatigue, attending on his flight, had overpowered his feeble frame; he had been attacked by a fever, under which he was hourly sinking. A Levite, who was the physician of Ramoth, and possessed great knowledge of the human frame and the virtues of plants, had been summoned. Strengthening baths had been employed, and the precious balm of Gilead applied externally and internally. These were the two chief remedies of the Hebrews.^[150] But here they had lost their power; Elisama fell into a deathlike slumber. When he was delirious, the image of Myron seemed to be constantly before his eyes; and he upbraided him with his ingratitude, and warned his son Helon to beware of him, as it would not be the last of his misdeeds. On the following day his reason returned for some hours, and he spoke calmly and clearly. It was the last revival of the flame of life. He requested Helon to repeat to him the prayer of Moses, the man of God. “Lord, thou hast been our refuge in all generations,” Ps. xc. He heard it with great attention, and the emotions of his heart were visible, at many passages, in his looks and his clasped hands. He lay for a long time with closed eyes, but his lips were in motion, and it was evident he was addressing himself to God, probably in a penitential psalm; for once, when his voice grew stronger, he was heard to say,

His voice again became faint, and it was after some interval that he was heard to say—

And then with a firmer tone—

He turned with an expression of the deepest affection to Helon, and said, “Greet thy mother from me—when the high-priest dies, carry my bones to the valley of Jehoshaphat, and lay them beside thy father’s—wait on the Lord, and thou shalt obtain”—his words became inaudible. Helon held his cold hand, and bathed it with his tears; and all who stood around his bed in mournful silence, thought him already dead. But the dying eye opened once more,—gazed around on them all—then fixed itself on heaven. His head sunk back in Sulamith’s arms. Twice the mouth was distorted in the bitterness of pain—then once again. The body became rigid—respiration ceased.

After a solemn pause, each reading in the countenance of the rest the confirmation of his fears, all uttered at the same moment a piercing shriek of grief. The men rent their upper garments, beat their breasts, threw their turbans on the ground, strewed dust and ashes on their head, put on sackcloth, covered their chins, and went barefoot. Helon was hurried away, least, being a priest, he should contract pollution from the dead body.^[151] The eyes of the corpse were closed, and it was carried into the Alijah by the nearest relatives. As it had been the custom in Judæa, since the captivity, to bury very soon, the night was passed in making preparations. The body was wrapped in a large sheet, the head bound with a napkin, and then the whole from head to foot swathed with a broad bandage, and each foot, each hand, each finger separately. At midnight came the Levites with their musical instruments: the female mourners began their office by lifting up their voices and lamenting, strewing ashes on their heads and singing a dirge. On the following morning the house was filled with neighbours and friends, expressing their sympathy. Sulamith ran about weeping and wringing her hands above her head. The men sat in another apartment upon the ground and mourned in silence. Sulamith was conducted to the apartment of the women, where she placed herself on a carpet in the middle, and the rest of the females of the family sat round her. The hired mourners formed a wide circle at a little distance. Each of the women held a handkerchief in her hand by two of the corners. The mourners, who knew a variety of funeral songs, began one which expressed the virtues and calamities of the deceased. Sulamith gave them a sign and they ceased; and all the females of the family began to weep along with her. They arose, twisted their handkerchiefs together, and ran shrieking round the room, while Sulamith, sitting motionless in the middle, wrung her hands and tore her beautiful dark hair. When she ceased the mourners resumed their song, till she again gave them a signal, and the relatives renewed their lamentations. This lasted till towards evening, when the inhabitants assembled at the door, and the corpse was carried to the grave. Those who carried the bier proceeded with such hasty steps that they seemed rather to run than walk—an usage which was said to bear this meaning,—that death is the most terrible punishment of sin. Every one who met the procession joined the mourners, and bore part in the cries of the women.

Before the gate of the city, in a garden planted with trees, stood the sepulchre of Elisama’s host, hewn out of the rock; and in this the corpse was deposited; for burning was deemed dishonourable by the Jews, and regarded with abhorrence. The bearers threw aloes, myrrh, and other fragrant substances, upon the body, so as to cover it, and the sepulchre was closed with a stone, which was annually whitened with lime. The friends and relatives having remained standing awhile before the closed sepulchre, bowed themselves thrice to the earth and prayed; then taking up a sod threw it behind them, and said, “Remember, O man, that dust thou art and to dust thou shalt return.” The procession returned with a repetition of the funeral lamentations.

On reaching home they washed their hands, and the neighbours brought them the bread of mourning. A beautiful and humane custom in Israel! No victuals were prepared in the house which death had visited, but the neighbours and friends came with delicate viands and invited the mourners to partake of them, to recruit their strength and spirits. This was called the bread of mourning; and the cup, which was handed round, the cup of consolation. The mourning lasted seven days, during which it was held indecorous to wash the garments, to bathe or anoint the body, or to wear the sandals or the turban. Every day Sulamith went with the women of the family to lament, at the tomb of the deceased, his true affection and his calamitous fate. When the days of mourning were ended suitable presents were made to the friendly host, and Helon, Sulamith, and Selumiel returned from the Peraea over the Jordan to Jericho. The bones of Elisama were to repose in the precincts of Ramoth Gilead till the death of the high-priest, when they should be transferred to the valley of Jehoshaphat, to rest there till the joyful morning of the resurrection. He was at length at peace, after a life, to which, like that of the patriarch Jacob, tranquillity had been a stranger. He had died in the city of the daughter of Jephthah, a victim to his indulgence of Helon’s wish to retain the friend of his youth; as she had been the victim of her love to her country. The secret anticipation which had always kept him at a distance from the heathen was now fulfilled; as well as the prophecy of Helon’s mother, when she parted from them in tears at Alexandria, and declared her apprehension that they would not all return. “Oh! that such a righteous man should have died the death of the sinner,” exclaimed Helon, in the bitterness of his grief, as he stood beside the stream of the Jabbok. “Doth Jehovah then punish the righteous as the sinner? O Elisama, Elisama, where shall I find light?”

“He has fulfilled his destiny,” said Selumiel. “Who may escape what fate has ordained for him?”

Let him beware who thinks that he has attained the highest pinnacle of temporal prosperity! The ball is in ceaseless vibration, and the moment in which it reaches its greatest elevation is that in which its descent must necessarily begin.

The death of Elisama had so disturbed the mind of Helon that Selumiel’s wisdom and Sulamith’s affection could only for a moment yield him consolation. Calamity had come like a flash of lightning, and revealed to him the obscure recesses of his own character; but with what a convulsive shock had this illumination entered, and how painful the contemplation of the objects which it disclosed. The fabric of self-righteousness, which for some months he had built up with so much care, was overthrown; the vision which he had cherished was gone; what would he not have given to have been able to arrest its flight?

The perverted state of his feelings showed itself most of all in his fury against Myron. If his conscience ever remonstrated, he persuaded himself that it was not Myron as an individual, but heathenism that he abhorred. All those passages in the psalms and the prophets in which Jehovah is implored to pour out his wrath upon the heathen, and is declared to bring their counsels to nought, became his favourite theme of meditation. By an incredible delusion he applied to his own personal injury the denunciations of Jehovah’s wrath against apostasy from himself. Even the love of Sulamith, who anxiously marked the state of his mind, hardly availed to pacify and soften him.

In the mean time the joyous season of the vintage, and the gathering of the olives and the fruit began. With shouts of joy they climbed the lofty palms, of which the plain of Jericho was full, and gathered the dates, which grew in large bunches of fifteen to twenty pounds in weight. They were afterwards divided according to their different degrees of ripeness; some were eaten fresh, others were pressed to obtain from them the celebrated palm-wine. This was done amidst festive shouts, and the praises of the tree were celebrated, of which every part is applicable to some use of man. From the terebinths, some of which had seen the lapse of centuries and were still vigorous and verdant, they plucked the red and fragrant berries, or climbed the pistachio to bring down its delicious nuts, or stored up the resin which spontaneously exudes from both these trees. The figs and the pomegranates were gathered, the balsam scraped from the weeping tree, or expressed from its seeds. Later in the season the olive trees, some of which yielded a thousand pounds of oil, were stripped of their yet unripe berries, which were gently pressed that the virgin oil might run from them; or crushed in the press that they might furnish oil for the necessary purposes of food and anointing. Even the vintage was beginning here and there.

Sulamith was careful to accompany Helon to all these exhilarating scenes; but it was long before the luxuriance of nature and the happiness of man had any other effect upon him than to make him more painfully conscious of his loss of inward peace; and the more he scrutinized his own performance of the divine commands, the more was he dissatisfied with himself.

One morning he was walking with Sulamith and Abisuab through a vineyard and seeking the ripe bunches among the loaded trees. His mind was more cheerful and more composed than it ever had been since the death of Elisama. A slave of Selumiel’s came hastily to him and summoned him to the house, saying, that a messenger from Gaza had arrived with letters that required a speedy answer. He had brought letters from Myron addressed to Selumiel and to Helon.

On the unfortunate evening when the homicide of Elisama had occurred, Myron had hastily taken the road to Gaza, designing as speedily as possible to return to Alexandria. With all his levity he joined a great deal of good-nature, and when he reflected on his conduct, his conscience found much to reproach him. He was compelled to wait at Gaza for an opportunity of conveyance to Egypt, and during his stay the news of what had happened in Jericho, soon followed by that of Elisama’s death, was made public there, and excited a very general feeling against him, both among Jews and heathens. The first effect was to make him wish for a speedy departure—but then again the thought of his conduct towards the friend of his youth smote him to the heart, and he could not go, till he had sought his forgiveness. Thus he allowed several opportunities of making the journey in company to pass by, and yet he could not summon courage to go to Jericho. At length he resolved on the following plan. He came to a place in the neighbourhood of that city, and thence dispatched a messenger to Selumiel, to whom he testified his sincere sorrow for what he had done, and earnestly requested his good offices in reconciling him to Helon. To him also he wrote a letter, which he entreated Selumiel to deliver to him.

Selumiel was much affected on reading the letter; he sent for Helon and gave him that which was destined for him. It was with difficulty that he could be prevailed on to receive it. Myron reminded him of their youthful friendship, and earnestly supplicated for an interview.

“That,” said Selumiel, “would be an act of heroism well worthy of an Israelite.”

“The heathens are threatened with Jehovah’s curse,” said Helon, “and we reap nothing but misery from their friendship. I will not see him.”

“Did not Solomon pray even for the heathens,”^[152] said Selumiel; “and will not the Messiah be the light of the heathens? Thou must not be implacable, if thou wishest to fulfil the law of the fathers. Was not Joseph reconciled to his brethren? did not David show mercy to Saul his enemy? did not Jehovah himself on Sinai command, ‘If thou seest the ox or the ass of thine enemy going astray thou shalt lead him back;’ and is not a heathen of more estimation than an ox or an ass?”

“Forgive Myron,” said Sulamith, fondly laying her head on his bosom, “forgive him, priest of Jehovah! Leave vengeance to him who hath declared that he will repay; and think what joy thou wouldest feel, if through thy means he became a proselyte of the gate.”

Helon’s former spirit revived, and he resolved that he would perform the heroic act to which he was called. The messenger was sent back to Myron, with permission to him to return. He soon made his appearance; for he had wandered near the confines of the city while uncertain of the issue of his embassy. He fell before the feet of his injured friend, clasped his knees, and supplicated forgiveness, with all the force of Grecian eloquence, and the emotion of sincere penitence and sorrow. Their reconciliation was soon accomplished. Sulamith had the delight of seeing her husband restored to the same peace and joy as in the first happy days of their union.

Myron was received again into the house, and, in the freedom of their renewed confidence, Helon informed him how much he was indebted for his return to the good offices of Sulamith. Myron, as the remembrance of the mischief which he had done began to be obliterated from his volatile mind, resumed his gaiety, and with it the hasty thoughtlessness which was his characteristic.

Helon had gone one day to the gate of the city alone; for Myron had never since his return accompanied him thither. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never duly expressed his gratitude to Sulamith, for her mediation in his favour, and he went straightway to the Armon, in the warmth of his feeling, without reflecting on what he was doing.

The citizens of Jericho, who sat in the gate, saw in the mean time that red mist gathering in the north-west, which is the usual prognostic of the approach of the pernicious wind of the east. This wind is felt in all its pestilential fury in the desert, where it sweeps over the surface, often to the height of a foot, destroying every thing which it encounters. It is there called the simoom. In Palestine its effects are not destructive to life, but in the highest degree oppressive and disagreeable. All the citizens of Jericho arose hastily from the gate, and hastened to their homes.

Helon, on his arrival at his home, went immediately to the Armon, to warn Sulamith of the approach of the simoom. At the door he met Myron, whose visit Sulamith had not received, but had warned him instantly to withdraw, if he would not bring ruin on himself and her.

Helon started with surprise and horror when he saw Myron in his Armon, which no foot of male, save his own, had ever trodden before. Wild jealousy and furious anger took possession of his mind, and agitated his whole frame. “Vile heathen,” he exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, “is this thy return for my hospitality and friendship? Was it not enough that thou didst murder Elisama?”

Myron’s protestations of his innocence were unheard or unheeded in the whirlwind of Helon’s rage. His cries soon brought together the slaves of the house. Seizing Myron by the arm, he fiercely thrust him towards them, and they, laying hold of him, drove him with blows and curses from the house. Sulamith had hastened from the Armon, and endeavoured to calm her husband; but at the sight of her his fury burst forth more violently than ever, and thrusting her back into the Armon, he ran like one frantic through the streets of Jericho to find Selumiel, to whom he related what had happened. They returned together, Selumiel’s indignation scarcely less fierce than his own. Selumiel on entering went immediately to his daughter, and laying hold of her exclaimed, “Monster! am I then the father of an adulteress? Didst thou learn from thy mother or from me to break thy marriage vow with a godless heathen?” She had been sitting sobbing and in tears, her face hidden in the veil with which she had wrapped her head. At these words, however, uncovering herself and looking up at her father, she said with a firm voice, “I am innocent!”

Helon and Selumiel were yet more provoked by this assurance. “If thou art innocent,” said Selumiel, “thou shalt drink the water of jealousy. I will know that my daughter is pure, or if not, may all that the law has denounced against the adulteress light upon thee!” With these words he went forth to call the elders together, and Helon shut himself up in the Alijah. All the happiness of his life was fled; he wept, he complained, he inveighed against the heathens, against Sulamith, against himself. In the agony of his grief he threw himself on the ground, rent his clothes, and tore his hair. Then again he sat in fixed and moping silence, or opened his lips only to recite passages of Scripture, which describe the harlot and the adulteress. “Yes,” he exclaimed, “the Essenes are right, it is because they know the inconstancy of women that they have excluded them from their society. Unhappy Israel, what shall become of thee, when thy matrons are corrupt and thy wives give themselves up to folly! No wonder that the once holy people is fallen even below the heathens themselves.”

A moment after, reflecting on what he had said aloud, he started with terror as from a frightful dream. “Can that be Sulamith?” he said with a sigh. The image of his wife, in all her gentleness and loveliness, stood before his mind, and softened, he exclaimed, “It is impossible.” Had Sulamith at that moment spoken but a word to him, he would have forgiven her all. He even quitted the Alijah to go to her: but when he looked down on the door of the Armon, and the thought flashed on him that through it the man had passed by whom he had been dishonoured, every returning thought of love and compassion was banished from his mind.

The inferior court, which was held on the spot where the offence was alleged to have been committed, assembled in this instance on the following morning at the gate of the city; Selumiel, appearing as accuser of his own daughter, stood on the right of the judges, and Sulamith on their left. The whole gate was filled with citizens of Jericho, among whom the news of this affair had rapidly spread, and excited universal curiosity.

Sulamith felt, at her first entrance, overpowered by the solemnity of this venerable assemblage, of which she had heard so much, but which she had never seen; that feeling having subsided, she regained her self-possession. Helon stood with a bewildered countenance, not venturing to look at his wife, or he must have read her vindication in her countenance, in which the pride of conscious innocence struggled with the feeling of ignominious exposure, and in her bright eyes now red with weeping, but untroubled by any expression of guilt or fear.

The father related what had happened, and Helon confirmed his statement. The judges turned to Sulamith, and asked her if she acknowledged the truth of what was alleged against her. “I call Jehovah to witness,” she replied with lofty tranquillity of manner, “that I am innocent, and will take the oath of purgation.” “Be it unto thee,” said the elder, “as thou hast desired.” Two assessors were selected to accompany her to the Sanhedrim, before whom alone the oath could be taken, to protect her on the way from the fury of the men, and to lay the whole affair before the supreme council.

They departed from Jericho immediately. The whole city was assembled, men, women, and children. Sulamith’s mother stood among the crowd wringing her hands. Most of the females sympathized with their suffering sister; but the whispers of malice and the taunts of malignant joy were also heard.

Helon followed them at a distance, by the same road by which at Pentecost he had gone up to Jerusalem an affianced bridegroom, full of joy and hope. Then the desert had seemed to be converted into a paradise. How was his condition changed! Elisama was dead, the land of promise had proved a land of chastisement to him; his enthusiasm for the sacerdotal office was dead within him; his wife went before him as an adulteress. With what regret did he look towards the distant Oasis of the Essenes, and long to bury himself in it, without a wife, without the priesthood, a stranger in the land of promise, solitary and single among the people of Israel!

They arrived in the evening at Jerusalem. Iddo was sitting in the gate, but when he saw them, and discovered the purpose for which they were come, he fled with averted head, and hands stretched out as if to repel some threatening evil. They ascended the temple-hill; all who met them were astonished to see her, who at the feast had been the object of universal admiration, brought up as a transgressor. She was confined for the night in a chamber of the temple; and Helon and Selumiel passed it in dejection and gloom in the house of Iddo.

The morning, the fearful morning came! After the usual sacrifice, the Sanhedrim assembled in the hall Gazith. All its seventy-one members were present, the high-priest, the elders, and the Levites sitting in a semicircle. Sulamith was led through the multitude that filled the courts, and placed before the tribunal. The assessors of the court of Jericho then laid the matter before the Sanhedrim, and Selumiel and Helon confirmed their statement. The father and husband were commanded to withdraw, and Sulamith, in her mourning garments, remained standing alone, in the midst of the judges.

They addressed her at first in a friendly tone, and endeavoured to bring her to confession, alleging grounds of excuse from her youth and her husband’s own culpability. “Daughter,” said one of the Sanhedrim, “glorify the great name of God, and do not allow that this sacred name should be washed with water and blotted out.” At other times they assumed an angry tone, blamed her silence, which they interpreted as an evidence of guilt, and bade her beware that she did not by her obstinacy plunge herself into an untimely death. Sulamith adhered to her denial, and, as they often urged her to confession, replied, “I am innocent and falsely accused. Put me to what test ye will, but ask of me no other confession than this, that I am innocent.”

The Sanhedrim, convinced by her noble firmness, ceased to importune her, and decreed that she should drink the water of jealousy, and take the oath of purgation. “Daughter,” said one of them, “if thou art innocent, put thy trust in Jehovah and drink boldly. It is with the bitter water as with poison, which laid upon a wounded part produces death, but has no effect when the flesh is sound.”

She was led from the hall Gazith to the gate of Nicanor, not however by the direct road, but by a long circuit, that she might still have time to reflect and to confess. The crowd formed a lane through which she had to pass, not only exposed to their gaze, but plucked scornfully by the arms, enduring their taunts and blows. Only here and there some one of more generous disposition, struck with her free and noble carriage, exclaimed, “The water of jealousy cannot injure thee; thou mayest drink it without fear.” At length they reached the gate of Nicanor, opposite to the sanctuary, and the priest, who had been appointed for the purpose, began the appalling ceremonies of the oath of purgation. Laying hold of her garments, he rent them from the top of the neck to the breast with expressions of horror, tore the veil from her head, and threw her turban on the ground. He dishevelled her braided hair and let it float upon the wind, and then turning his face from her, said, “Thou hast forsaken the manner of the daughters of Israel who cover their heads, and hast followed the manners of the heathens who go with their heads uncovered.”

The men spat on the ground before her: the women uttered cries of abhorrence, and a deep murmur of Woe! woe! ran from rank to rank among the people, which even the unconcerned spectator could not hear without shuddering. Helon stood with averted head, and stupified with horror. Selumiel wept aloud.

The priest threw all the rest of Sulamith’s ornaments, her necklace, ear-rings, and bracelets, to the ground, and girded her rent garments over her bosom with a strip of bark. The more ignominious the outrages to which she was subject, the more striking appeared the contrast of her dignified air and demeanour. The husband was compelled to reach to the priest the offering of jealousy, consisting of a tenth part of an epha of meal, in a basket of osier. The meal was of barley, the meanest grain, neither oil nor incense was mingled with it. Helon could not bear to look, but reached it to the priest with averted head, least his eyes should encounter those of Sulamith.

The priest took an earthen vessel that had never been used, filled it with water from the laver beside the altar of burnt-offering, and carrying it into the holy place put into it some of the dust of the floor. When he returned, he exhorted her once more to reflect what she was about to do, and if she were guilty not to drink, but to confess her sin. The accused replied distinctly and firmly, “I am innocent.” Again the deep murmur of Woe! woe! spread along the shuddering multitude, who thronged the temple courts.

The priest then with an elevated and solemn voice said, “If thou art innocent, and hast not gone aside to uncleanness with another, instead of thy husband, be thou free from the curse of this bitter water, and let it not harm thee. But if thou hast gone aside to another and hast been defiled, then may Jehovah make thee a curse among thy people, and bring on thee all the curses which are written in his law.”^[153]

Sulamith thus adjured, answered firmly, supported by the power of God, Amen, Amen. And the murmur of Woe! woe! rolled deeper and more awfully along the ranks of men and women.

The priest now wrote the curses on a roll. Helon took the barley meal from the basket, placed it in a sacred vessel, and gave it into his wife’s hands. Her look met his and pierced him to the heart, and roused from the stupor in which he had been sunk during the preceding part of the ceremonial, he made his way through the people, and rushed down from the temple-hill. A pause of a few moments ensued, and then the priest, laying his hand under the hand of Sulamith, waved the offering of jealousy in the customary form before Jehovah, then took it from her, carried it to the altar of burnt-offering, and, ascending it, mixed the meal with salt, and burnt it in the fire. He then descended again to the gate of Nicanor, took the roll, and washed the writing with the water in which the dust of the sanctuary had been mixed. The assembled crowd stood in deep and breathless attention. The priest reached to Sulamith the vessel which contained the water of cursing: she took it, lifted her eyes towards the holy of holies, and drank it off. There was a stillness as of death amongst all who stood around, as if they were conscious of the presence of Jehovah, to clear the innocent or punish the guilty.

Sulamith stood in the midst of the people, firm, and with her looks fixed on the holy of holies; all eyes were directed towards her, and watched what would be the effect of the draught. But when they saw that she was unharmed by it, and that God had justified her from the accusations of her enemies, they burst into a cry of joy, and Hallelujah resounded from the temple to the city. Selumiel rushed to his daughter, and folded her in his paternal arms. With shouts of triumph and exclamations, “Blessed be Jehovah, she is innocent!” they accompanied her into the inner court of the temple, where the priest formally pronounced her acquittal. Thronging around her, all offered her their congratulations. Her hair was braided anew, her turban, her veil, her jewels were restored to her, and the dark garments of mourning exchanged for festal attire. Sulamith descended from the temple with modest and downcast looks. Iddo, who had heard the shouts of joy and had rightly interpreted them, opened his gates and received her. The people who had accompanied her remained long assembled on the open place before the Water-gate.

But where is Helon? When he had fled from the temple, overpowered by the look of Sulamith, he wandered about, shunned as one frantic by all who observed him, and unconscious whither he was going, till his feet carried him to the grave of his father in the valley of Jehoshaphat, where, exhausted by fatigue and strong excitement, he fell before the sepulchre and remained long insensible. Longer might he have remained, but that he was roused from his stupor by voices which cried, He is here, he is here! He opened his eyes and saw Iddo, who had come out with several others to seek him. Iddo embraced him, repeating to him, She lives, she is guiltless! while Helon, like one awakening from a dream, scarcely understood the meaning or the reference of the words. When fully restored to the consciousness of what had passed, joy, remorse, and shame rushed in such a torrent upon his mind, that he would have fallen again to the earth if they had not supported him. In this state they led him home.