It is most astounding next to read how Haman, having resolved to

take vengeance on Mordecai by exterminating his whole nation, thus

glibly and easily wins over the king to his scheme. "There is a

nation," he says, "scattered abroad throughout all the provinces

of the king's kingdom, and their laws are diverse from all people,

neither keep they the king's laws, therefore it is not for the

king's profit to suffer them." "If it please the king let it be

written that they may be destroyed, and I will pay ten thousand

talents of silver to the hands of them that have the charge of the

business, to bring it into the king's treasury."

It is fashionable in our times to speak of the contempt and

disregard shown to women in this period of the world among Oriental

races, but this one incident shows that women were held no cheaper

than men. _Human beings_ were cheap. The massacre of hundreds

of thousands was negotiated in an easy, off-hand way, just as a

gardener ordains exterminating sulphur for the green bugs on his

plants. The king answered to Haman, "The silver is given thee, and

the people also, to do as seemeth to thee good."

Then, says the story, "the king's scribes were called on the

thirteenth day of the first month, and there was written according

to all that Haman had commanded, and the letters were sent by post

into all the provinces, to destroy and to kill and cause to perish

all Jews, both old and young, little children and women, in one day,

of the twelfth month, which is the month Adar, to take the spoil of

them for a prey. The posts went out, being hastened by the king's

commandment, _and the king and Haman sat down to drink, but the

city of Shushan was perplexed_." And when Mordecai heard this he

rent his clothes and put on sackcloth with ashes, and went into the

midst of the city, and came even before the king's gate, for none

might enter into the king's gate clothed in sackcloth. The Oriental

monarch was supposed to dwell in eternal bliss and joyfulness: no

sight or sound of human suffering or weakness or pain must disturb

the tranquility of his court; he must not even suspect the existence

of such a thing as sorrow.

Far in the luxurious repose of the women's apartments, sunk upon

embroidered cushions, listening to the warbling of birds and the

plash of fountains, Esther the queen knew nothing of the decree

that had gone forth against her people. The report was brought her

by her chamberlain that her kinsman was in sackcloth, and she sent

to take it away and clothe him with costly garments, but he refused

the attention and persisted in his mourning. Then the queen sent her

chief chamberlain to inquire what was the cause of his distress,

and Mordecai sent a copy of the decree, with a full account of how

and by whom it had been obtained, and charging her to go and make

supplication to the king for her people. Esther returned answer:

"All the king's servants do know that whosoever, man or woman, shall

come in to the king in the inner court, who is not called, there is

one law to put them to death, except those to whom the king shall

hold out the golden scepter that he may live, but I have not been

called to appear before the king for thirty days."

We have here the first thoughts of a woman naturally humble and

timid, knowing herself one of the outlawed race, and fearing,

from the long silence of the king, that his heart may have been

set against her by the enemies of her people. Mordecai sent in

reply to this a sterner message; "Think not with thyself that thou

shalt escape in the king's house more than all the Jews. For if

thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there

enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another quarter,

but thou and thy father's house shall be cut off; and who knoweth

whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" And

Esther sends this reply: "Go, gather together all the Jews that are

in Shushan, and fast ye for me; neither eat nor drink for three

days, night or day; and I and my maidens will fast likewise. And so

I will go in unto the king, which is not according to law; and if I

perish, I perish."

There are certain apochryphal additions to the book of Esther, which

are supposed to be the efforts of some romancer in enlarging upon

a historic theme. In it is given at length a prayer of Mordecai in

this distress, and a detailed account of the visit of Esther to the

king. The writer says, that, though she carried a smiling face,

"her heart was in anguish for fear," and she fell fainting upon the

shoulder of her maid. Our own account is briefer, and relates simply

how the king saw Esther the queen standing in the court, and she

obtained favor in his eyes, and he held out the golden scepter, and

said to her, "What wilt thou, Queen Esther, what is thy request? and

it shall be given thee, even to half of the kingdom." Too prudent to

enter at once into a discussion of the grand subject, Esther seeks

an occasion to study the king and Haman together more nearly, and

her request is only that the king and Haman would come that day to a

private banquet in the queen's apartments. It was done, and the king

and Haman both came.

At the banquet her fascinations again draw from the king the

permission to make known any request of her heart, and it shall

be given, even to half of his kingdom. Still delaying the final

issue, Esther asks that both the king and his minister may come to a

second banquet on the morrow. Haman appears to have been excessively

flattered at this attention from the queen, of whose nationality

he was profoundly ignorant; but as he passed by and saw Mordecai

in his old seat in the king's gate, "that he stood not up neither

moved for him," he was full of indignation. He goes home to his

domestic circle, and amplifies the account of his court successes

and glories, and that even the queen has distinguished him with an

invitation which was shared by no one but the king. Yet, he says, in

the end, all this availeth me nothing, so long as I see Mordecai the

Jew sitting in the king's gate. His wife is fruitful in resources.

"Erect a gibbet," she says, "and to-morrow speak to the king, and

have Mordecai hanged, and go thou merrily to the banquet." And the

thing pleased Haman, and he caused the gallows to be made.

On that night the king could not sleep, and calls an attendant,

by way of opiate, to read the prosy and verbose records of his

kingdom,--probably having often found this a sovereign expedient for

inducing drowsiness. Then, by accident, his ear catches the account

of the conspiracy which had been averted by Mordecai. "What honor

hath been shown this man?" he inquires; and his servants answered,

There is nothing done for him. The king's mind runs upon the

subject, and early in the morning, perceiving Haman standing as an

applicant in the outer court, he calls to have him admitted. Haman

came, with his mind full of the gallows and Mordecai. The king's

mind was full, also, of Mordecai, and he had the advantage of the

right of speaking first. In the enigmatic style sometimes employed

by Oriental monarchs, he inquires, "What shall be done with the man

whom the king delighteth to honor?" Haman, thinking this the preface

to some new honor to himself, proposes a scheme. The man whom the

king delights to honor shall be clothed in the king's royal robes,

wear the king's crown, be mounted on the king's horse, and thus

be led through the streets by one of the king's chief councilors,

proclaiming, "This is the man whom the king delighteth to honor."

"Then said the king: Make haste, and do even so as thou hast said

unto Mordecai the Jew that sitteth in the king's gate. Let nothing

fail of all that thou hast spoken." And Haman, without daring to

remonstrate, goes forth and fulfills the king's command, with what

grace and willingness may be imagined.

It is evident from the narrative that the king had not even taken

the trouble to inquire the name of the people he had given up to

extermination any more than he had troubled himself to reward the

man who had saved his life. In both cases he goes on blindly, and

is indebted to mere chance for his discoveries. We see in all this

the same passionate, childish nature that is recorded of Xerxes by

Herodotus when he scourged the sea for destroying his bridge of

boats. When Haman comes back to his house after his humiliating

public exposure, his wife comforts him after a fashion that has not

passed out of use with her. "If that Mordecai," she says, "is of the

seed of the Jews before whom thou hast begun to fall, thou shalt not

prevail against him, but shall surely fall before him."

And now Haman and the king and Esther are once more in a secluded

apartment, banqueting together. Again the king says to her, "What

is thy request, Esther?" The hour of full discovery is now come.

Esther answers: "If I have found favor in thy sight, O king, and if

it please the king, let _my life_ be given me at my petition, and

my people at my request. For we are sold, I and my people, to be

slain and to perish. If we had only been sold to slavery, I had held

my tongue." Then the king breaks forth, "Who is he, and where is

he that durst presume in his heart to do so?" And Esther answered,

"The adversary and enemy _is this wicked Haman_!" Then Haman was

afraid before the king and queen, and he had the best reason to be

so. The king, like an angry lion, rose up in a fury and rushed out

into the gardens. Probably at this moment he perceived the net into

which he had been drawn by his favorite. He has sent orders for

the destruction of this people, to whom his wife belongs, and for

whom she intercedes. Of course he never thinks of blaming himself.

The use of prime ministers was as well understood in those days

as now, and Haman must take the consequences as soon as the king

can get voice to speak it. Haman, white with abject terror, falls

fainting at the feet of Esther upon the couch where she rests, and

as the king comes raging back from the gardens he sees him there.

"What! will he force our queen also in our very presence?" he says.

And as the word went out of the king's mouth, they covered Haman's

face. All is over with him, and an alert attendant says: "Behold

the gallows, fifty cubits high, that he made to hang Mordecai, the

saviour of the king's life." Then said the king, "Hang him thereon."

Thus dramatically comes the story to a crisis. Mordecai becomes

prime minister. The message of the king goes everywhere, empowering

the Jews to stand for their life, and all the governors of provinces

to protect them. And so it ends in leaving the nation powerful in

all lands, under the protection of a queen and prime minister of

their own nation.

The book of Esther was forthwith written and sent to the Jews in

all countries of the earth, as a means of establishing a yearly

commemorative festival called Purim, from the word "Pur," or "The

lot." The festival was appointed, we are told, by the joint

authority of Mordecai the Jew and Esther the queen. And to this

day we Gentiles in New York or Boston, at the time of Purim, may

go into the synagogue and hear this book of Esther chanted in the

Hebrew, and hear the hearty curses which are heaped, with thumps of

hammers and of fists, upon the heads of Haman and his sons whenever

their names occur in the story,--a strange fragment of ancient

tradition floated down to our modern times. The palace of Shushan,

with its hangings of green and blue and purple, its silver couches,

its stir and hum of busy life, is now a moldering ruin; but the

fair woman that once trod its halls is remembered and honored in a

nation's heart. It is a curious fact that the romantic history of

Esther has twice had its parallel since the Christian era, as the

following incident, from Schudt's "Memorabilia of the Jews,"[4]

witnesses. In this rare and curious work--4th book, 13th chapter--he

says: "Casimir the Great, of Poland, in 1431, fell in love with a

beautiful Jewess named Esther, whom he married and raised to the

throne of Poland. He had by her two sons and several daughters.

His love for her was so great that he allowed the daughters to be

brought up in their mother's religion." Also it is related that

Alphonso VIII., king of Spain, took to himself a beautiful Jewess as

a wife. On account of her he gave such privileges to the Jews that

she became an object of jealousy to the nobles, and was assassinated.

[4] Jüdische Merkwürdigkeiten. Frankfort and Leipsic, 1714.

The book of Esther fills an important place in the sacred canon, as

showing the Divine care and protection extended over the sacred race

in the period of their deepest depression. The beauty and grace of a

woman were the means of preserving the seed from which the great Son

of Man and desire of all nations, should come. Esther held in her

fair hand the golden chain at the end of which we see the Mother of

Jesus. The "Prayer of Esther" is a composition ascribed to her, and

still in honored use among the solemn services of the synagogue.

[Illustration: JUDITH THE DELIVERER]

JUDITH THE DELIVERER.

No female type of character has given more brilliant inspiration

to the artist or been made more glowingly alive on canvas than

Judith. Her story, however, is set down by competent scholars

as a work of fiction. The incidents recorded in it have so many

anachronisms as to time and place, the historical characters

introduced are in combinations and relations so interfering with

authentic history, that such authorities as Professor Winer,[5] of

Leipsic, and others, do not hesitate to assign it to the realm of

romance. This Apocryphal book is, in fact, one of the few sparse

blossoms of æsthetic literature among the Jewish nation. It is a

story ages before the time of the tales of the _Decameron_, but as

purely a romance. Considered in this light, it is nobly done and

of remarkable beauty. The character of Judith is a striking and

picturesque creation, of which any modern artist might be proud. It

illustrates quite as powerfully as a true story the lofty and heroic

type of womanhood which was the result of the Mosaic institutions,

and the reverence in which such women were held by the highest

authorities of the nation.

[5] Winer's Bible Dictionary, art. _Judith_.

The author begins with the account of a destructive and terrible war

which is being waged on the Jewish nation for refusing to serve in

the armies of one Nabuchodonosor, king of Assyria, in an attack on

the king of the Medes and Persians. All the names of this so-called

war, and all the events as narrated, are out of joint with received

history, and clearly as much creations of the writer's fancy as the

Arabian Nights. It is stated that the Jews had just returned from

the Babylonian captivity, and brought back their sacred vessels,

and restored their temple worship after the long defilement of

heathen servitude. But it is a matter of undisputed history that

Nabuchodonosor was the king who carried the nation into captivity,

and no other monarch of the name is known to history who performed

deeds at all like those here narrated.

The story goes on to state how, to punish the Jews for not becoming

his soldiers in the war, this king sent his chief commander,

Holofernes, to carry destruction over their country. The mighty army

of this general, and its ravages over the surrounding country, are

set forth with an Oriental luxury of amplification. They come at

last and straitly besiege the city of Bethulia. Whether this is a

fictitious name for a real city, or whether it is a supposititious

city, the creation of the author's imagination, critics are not

fully decided; the story is just as pretty on one hypothesis as the

other. The water being cut off, the people, suffering and dying of

thirst, beset the chief-priests and elders to surrender the city to

save their lives. Ozias, the chief ruler, temporizes, recommends

five days of prayer; if before that time the God of Israel does not

interpose, he promises to surrender.

And now the romance puts its heroine on the stage. After tracing her

family and descent, it introduces her in these quaint words: "Now

Judith was a widow in her house three years and four months. And she

made her tent on the top of the house, put on sackcloth, and wore

her widow's apparel; and she fasted all the days of her widowhood,

save the eves of the Sabbaths, the Sabbaths, and the new moons and

solemn feast-days of Israel. She was also of goodly countenance,

and beautiful to behold, and her husband, Manasses, had left her

gold and silver, and man-servants and maid-servants, and cattle, and

lands; and she remained upon them. And there was none gave her an

ill word, for she feared God greatly."

It is a striking exemplification of the elevated position which

women held in the Jewish nation that a romance writer should

introduce the incident that follows. Judith, hearing of the promise

of the chief-ruler to surrender the city, sends her maid to call the

governor and the chief men of the city, and they came unto her. And

she said: "Hear now, O ye governors of the inhabitants of Bethulia,

for the words that you have spoken are not right touching this oath,

that you have promised to deliver the city to our enemies, unless

within these days the Lord turn and help you. And now, who are ye

that have tempted God this day, to stand in the stead of God to the

children of men?"

She goes on to tell them that they have no right to say that unless

God interfere for them before a certain time they will give up a

sacred charge which has been entrusted to them to maintain; but it

is rather their duty to stand at their posts and defend their city,

without making conditions with him as to when or how he should help

them. She says to them: "And now, try the Lord Almighty, and ye

shall never know anything. For ye cannot find the depth of the heart

of a man, neither can ye perceive what he thinketh; how, then, can

ye search out God, that hath made all things, and comprehend his

purposes? Nay, my brethren, provoke not the Lord our God to anger;

for if he will not help within five days, he hath power to help us

when he will, even every day. Do not bind the counsel of the Lord,

for God is not a man that he may be threatened. Therefore, let us

wait for salvation from him, and call upon him, and he will hear, if

it please him."

She then shows them the disgrace and dishonor which will come

upon them if they betray their trust, and they allow the sacred

inheritance to be defiled and destroyed, and ends with a heroic

exhortation: "Now, therefore, O brethren, let us show an example to

our brethren, because their hearts depend on us, and the sanctuary

and the house and the altar rest on us."

The governor and elders receive this message with respectful

deference, apologize for yielding to the urgency of the people, who

were mad with the sufferings of thirst, and compelled them to make

this promise, and adds: "Therefore, pray thou for us, for thou art a

goodly woman, and the Lord will send us rain, and fill our cisterns

that we thirst no more." At this moment Judith receives a sudden

flash of heroic inspiration, and announces to them, that, if they

will send her forth without the city that night, the Lord will visit

Israel by her hand. She adds that they must not inquire further

of her purpose, until the design she has in view be finished. The

magistrates, confiding implicitly in her, agree to forward her plan

blindly.

The story now introduces us to the private oratory, where Judith

pours out her heart before God. So says the narrative: "Then Judith

fell on her face, and put ashes on her head, and uncovered the

sackcloth wherewith she was clothed, and about the time that the

incense of that evening was offered in Jerusalem in the house of the

Lord, Judith cried with a loud voice to the Lord."

The prayer of Judith is eloquent in its fervent simplicity, and

breathes that intense confidence in God as the refuge of the

helpless, which is characteristic of Jewish literature. "Behold,"

she says, "the Assyrians are multiplied in their power, and are

exalted with horse and man; they glory in the strength of their

footmen; they trust in shield and spear and bow, and know not that

thou art the Lord that breakest battles. The Lord is thy name.

Throw down their strength in thy power, and bring down their force

in thy wrath, for they have purposed to defile thy sanctuary, and

to pollute the tabernacle where thy glorious name resteth, and to

cast down with sword the home of thy altar. Behold their pride.

Send thy wrath upon their heads, and give unto me, which am a

widow, the power that I have conceived. For thy power standeth not

in multitude, nor thy might in strong men; for thou art the God of

the afflicted, thou art an helper of the oppressed, an upholder of

the weak, a protector of the forlorn, a saviour of them that are

without hope. I pray thee, I pray thee, O God of my father, King of

every creature! hear my prayer, and make my speech and deceit to

be their wound and stripe, who have purposed cruel things against

thy covenant, and thy hallowed house, and against the house of the

possession of thy children."

When she had thus prayed, the story goes on to say she called her

maid, and, laying aside the garments of her widowhood, dressed

herself in the utmost splendor, adorning herself with jewels, and

practicing every art of the toilet to set off her beauty. Thus

attired, she with her maid went forth from the city towards the

Assyrian army, meaning to be taken prisoner. As she designed, she

was met by the outguards of the army, and carried at once to the

tent of their general, professing that she had come to show him a

way whereby he could go in and win all the hill country without loss

of a man. The sensation produced by her entrance into the camp is

well given: "Then there was a concourse through all the camp, for

her coming was noised among the tents, and they came about her as

she stood waiting without the tent of Holofernes; and they wondered

at her beauty, and admired the children of Israel because of her,

and every one said to his neighbors, Who would despise this people

that have among them such women?"

The story next gives the scene where Holofernes, dazzled by her

beauty and enchanted by her manners, becomes entirely subject to

her will, receives and entertains her as a sovereign princess.

She easily persuades him to believe the story she tells him. This

people, she says, are under the protection of their God so long as

they do not violate the rules of their religion, but, under the

pressure of famine, they are about to eat of forbidden articles

and to consume the sacred offerings due to the temple. Then their

God will turn against them and deliver them into his hands. She

will remain with him, and go forth from time to time; and when the

sacrilege is accomplished, she will let him know that the hour to

fall upon them is come.

So Judith is installed in state and all honor near the court of the

commander, and enjoys to the full the right to exercise the rites

of her national religion,--nay, the infatuated Holofernes goes so

far as to promise her that, in the event of her succeeding in her

promises, he will himself adopt the God of Israel for his God. After

a day or two spent in this way, in which she goes forth every night

for prayer and ablutions at the fountain, there comes the attempt to

draw her into the harem of the general. Holofernes, in conference

with Bagoas, the chief of his eunuchs, seems to think that the

beautiful Judæan woman would laugh him to scorn if he suffered such

an opportunity to pass unimproved. Accordingly a private banquet is

arranged, and the chief of the eunuchs carries the invitation in

true Oriental style, as follows: "Let not this fair damsel fear to

come unto my lord, and to be honored in his presence, and to drink

wine and be merry, and to be made this day as one of the Assyrians

that serve in the house of Nabuchodonosor." Judith graciously

accepts the invitation, decks herself with all her jewelry, and

comes to the banquet and ravishes the heart of the commandant with

her smiles. Excited and flattered, he drinks, it is said, more wine

than ever he drunk before; so that, at the close of the feast, when

the servants departed and Judith was left alone in the tent with

him, he was lying dead drunk with wine on the cushions of his divan.

Woman in Sacred History A Series of Sketches Drawn from Scriptural, Historical, and Legendary Sources · 第 9 / 14 段