CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
PREFACE
This volume is the fruit of my leisure hours; and those hours in the
life of a pastor are not very abundant. That the story has suffered
from this, I do not believe. Whatever its defects may be, they are not
owing to “the pressure of other duties.” So, dear reader, if this
little work proves a failure, let not that _deep calamity_ be
attributed to any lack but the lack of ability in the author.
The semi-fictitious style of the writing, while displeasing to some,
will be well-pleasing to others. “What I have written I have written;”
perhaps in a way peculiar to myself. I know of some who could write
charming books on this subject in a very different and perhaps a far
superior style; but these I dare not try to imitate. I must write in my
own way. It may be inferior to the way of others; but then it is much
better to move around on your own limbs, even if they _are_ rather
“short metre,” than to parade abroad on stilts in mid-air.
In the colloquies, I have not thought it best to follow strictly the
Oriental style. However pleasing this might have been to some, I am
well persuaded that it could not meet the approbation of the generality
of readers; and as the great design of the work is to bear with weight
upon some of the corrupt usages and wicked policies of the present day,
I thought it advisable to shape the phraseology in conformity with
modern usages.
In the prosecution of this work, I have consulted the following
authorities: Josephus, Rollins’ “Ancient History,” Smith’s “Sacred
Annals,” “Daniel, a Model for Young Men,” by Dr. Scott, Clarke’s,
Henry’s, Scott’s, and Benson’s Commentaries; with some other smaller
works.
In following the “Youths of Judah” through their various trials, at
home and in a land of strangers, I have received much genuine pleasure
and lasting profit; and that the reader, likewise, may be greatly
pleased and benefited, is the sincere desire of his unworthy servant,
ERASMUS W. JONES.
CHAPTER I.
A clash of swords and the cries of excited men resounded through the
streets of the city. Two guardsmen were endeavoring to disarm and
arrest a number of boisterous youths. The latter, evidently young men
of good social position, had been singing bacchanalian songs and
otherwise conducting themselves in a manner contrary to the spirit of
orderliness which King Josiah was striving to establish in Jerusalem.
The youths were intoxicated, and, when the two officers sought to
restrain them, they drew swords and made a reckless attack on the
guardians of the peace.
Although the latter were outnumbered, they were courageous and skillful
men, and soon had three of the party disarmed, accomplishing this
without bloodshed. The fourth and last of the marauders, a handsome and
stalwart young man apparently about twenty-one years of age, although
at first desirous of keeping out of the mêlée, sprang to the aid of his
companions. He cleverly tripped one of the watchmen and grappled with
the other in such a way that the officer could not use his sword arm.
This fierce onslaught gave the other members of the party new courage,
and they joined in the battle again. The conflict might then have been
settled in favor of the lawless party but for an unexpected
circumstance. As one of the guardsmen gave a signal calling for
reinforcements, the second made a desperate attempt to throw his young
antagonist to the ground, and, as they struggled, his face came in
proximity to that of the offending youth. He uttered an exclamation of
surprise.
“Ezrom! Ezrom!” cried he; “don’t add crime to your other follies! Do
you realize what you are doing? See how you are about to bring disgrace
upon your relatives. Make haste away from this place before the
reinforcements come, or nothing will save you from the dungeon. I
beseech you in the name of the king and your beloved family!”
Instantly the plea had its effect. The young man drew back, and,
hastily uttering a few words to his companions, led them away before
they could be recognized by the gathering crowd.
“The officer is a loyal friend of our house,” the youth explained, “and
we have him to thank for getting us out of this trouble, temporarily at
least. But the affair has attracted enough notice so that there is sure
to be an inquiry to-morrow, and I for one will put the city of my birth
behind me before the dawn of day. The son of Salome and the nephew of
King Josiah will never again bring disgrace upon those he loves.
To-night I flee to parts unknown, and bitter indeed will be the
punishment of those of you who are apprehended for our offenses.”
In the vicinity of the Temple stood a beautiful dwelling. From outward
appearances one would readily conclude that the inmates of that fair
abode were not common personages. Wealth and taste were shown on every
hand. To this house, in the heart of Jerusalem, came the young man who
had rendered himself so conspicuous in the quarrel with the guard. He
reached the place by a circuitous route and hastily entered. Although
the hour was late two Hebrew maidens of rare beauty awaited his coming.
They were in a state of anxious solicitude for the return of their
erring brother, whose conduct of late had been such as to cause the
most intense anxiety on the part of the pious household, for Ezrom
belonged to the nobility of Judah and was a blood relation of the
reigning monarch. Seeing his excited countenance, the sisters
understood that something unusual had befallen him, and the elder of
the two sprang to his side.
“What calamity has occurred to you, my dear brother?” she cried.
“Be calm, sweet Serintha,” he replied, “and I will tell you all.”
He then informed his sisters that with his three friends he had been
guilty of taking up arms against the authorities—a crime punished with
great severity.
As Ezrom and his young men companions were connected with families of
high station in Jerusalem, even having royal blood in their veins, they
had the privilege of carrying weapons and were in the habit of going
armed with swords. This unfortunate custom had only served in the end
to get them into serious trouble, and Ezrom for one felt compelled to
leave home during the night.
These startling disclosures brought from both of his sisters a cry of
agony. They implored him to remain, promising to exert every influence
to save him from punishment.
Ezrom’s mind was firmly made up, however, and he declared that he never
would face the impending exposure. He gathered together a few articles
of clothing while his sisters followed him from room to room with
painful sobs. He was soon ready. His younger sister, Monroah, fell on
his neck in a paroxysm of grief. Ezrom could utter but a few broken
words when he essayed to bid them farewell. His favorite harp stood by
his side.
“Take this, my sweet Monroah,” he said, in trembling accents, “and
whenever thy hand shall strike its chords of melody remember that thou
art loved with all the strong affection of a brother’s heart. And now,
in the presence of Jehovah I make the solemn vow that from this hour I
shall reform my ways.”
He then kissed his beloved sisters, and, with burning brow and
tear-dimmed eyes, rushed from his father’s house and away to a land of
strangers.