My Dear Father:
My last letter ended with an account of the Roman escort, under
the authority of the young Roman centurion who, as I have before
written to you, with so much courtesy proffered its protection to our
little party. The day was yet early, and the air was of that buoyant
elasticity so agreeable to breathe, and which strikes me as one of
the peculiar blessings of this holy land of our fathers. As I rode
along, I felt as if I would gladly mount the Arabian of the desert and
fly across the sandy seas of Edom, with the fleetness which amazes me
whenever I see the children of the desert ride; for a band of thirty
came boldly near us from a gorge as we approached Bethany, and after
watching us a few moments, scoured away into the recesses of the hills
like the wind, as a detachment of our Roman escort was ordered to
gallop towards them. We were fortunate in having such strong protection.
We soon afterwards reached the summit of the ridge above Bethany, from
which eminence we had a gorgeous view of the Holy City of God, with its
lofty Temple glittering in the sunbeams. The Tower of Antonia darkly
contrasted with its splendor, and the citadel of David frowned over the
walls with a warlike majesty that deeply impressed me. I drew rein, and
entreated Rabbi Amos to delay a few moments while I surveyed Jerusalem,
but he was too far ahead to hear me, and the centurion, riding up to
my side, stopped respectfully with a portion of his command, and said
he would await my leisure. I could not but thank him for his civility,
and then turning towards the city, I was soon lost to all else but the
awful contemplation of it.
"You should see Rome," said the centurion, who had watched my emotion
evidently with surprise. "It is a city of grandeur unequalled. It
covers six times more space than this city, and it contains three
hundred and sixty-five temples, while Jerusalem contains but one!"
"There is no God but one," I answered, impressively.
"We believe there is one God, who is the author of a great multitude
of lesser gods, and to each we erect a temple," he said firmly, yet
respectfully.
[Illustration: Rome]
Upon this, touched with pity that one so noble in mind and person
should be so ignorant of the truth, I began to show him from the
Prophets that God was one, and that all things were made by him. But
he, plucking a blossom from a tree within reach, said:
"It is beneath the dignity of the Father of the gods, the great Jove,
to descend to make a flower like this, or shape a crystal, or color
the ruby, or create that golden-eyed humming-bird which flutters among
those fragrant blossoms. He made the sun, and moon, and stars, and
earth, but left the lesser works to inferior deities. Talk to me of thy
one God, and prove to me, maiden, that he made all things, and is one,
and thy God shall be my God."
We now rode forward through the street of Bethany, and soon came to
the house of our former friend, Rabbi Abel, who died many years ago at
Alexandria, when he went there with merchandise, and after the welfare
of whose children you desired me to make inquiries. It was a plain and
humble dwelling before which Rabbi Amos assisted me to alight; but
there was an air of neatness and sweet domestic repose about it that
at once came home to my heart, and made me love the place even before
I had seen the inmates. On hearing of my arrival, there came out a
fair young girl of twenty-two, with the most amiable expression of
affectionate welcome, and approaching me with mingled respect and love,
she embraced me, while Rabbi Amos pronounced our names to each other.
I felt immediately as if I were in a sister's arms, and that I should
love her always. Next came forth a young man of about thirty years of
age, with a countenance of an exceedingly interesting expression, full
of intellect and good will. He was pale and habitually thoughtful, but
a fine friendly light beamed in his dark, handsome eyes, as he extended
his hand to welcome me. You have already had a full description of
him, and of his character, in one of my former letters, and need not
be told that it was Lazarus, the son of your friend. At the threshold
Martha, the eldest sister, met me, but with more ceremony, and made an
apology for receiving me, the rich heiress of Alexandria, as she termed
me, into so lowly a dwelling; but I embraced her so affectionately
that this feeling passed away instantly. Martha busied herself at once
to prepare refreshments for us, and soon set before us a frugal but
agreeable repast. Mary, in the meanwhile, and Lazarus, sat on either
side of me, and asked me many questions about Alexandria.
I cannot describe to you the loveliness of the person of Mary, and yet
not so much the perfection of features as the soul which animates them,
and lends them a charm that I cannot adequately convey to you.
Martha, the oldest, is of a more lively disposition, yet more
commanding in her aspect, being taller and almost queenly in her mien.
Her eyes and her hair are jet black; the former mild and beaming with
intelligence, like those of her brother Lazarus, whom she resembles.
She has a winning voice, and a manner that leads you to feel strong
confidence in her friendship. She seemed to take the whole management
of our entertainment upon herself. Lazarus conversed chiefly with
Rabbi Amos, who questioned him with much interest about the prophet
John of the wilderness. After our repast, Martha showed me three
beautiful bands of embroidery, which she was working for the new vail
of the Temple to be put on next year; for the sisters live by working
needle-work for the Temple, and Lazarus makes copies of the Laws and
Psalms for the priests. He showed me his copying-table, and the rolls
of parchment upon it, some partly inscribed in beautiful characters,
some quite complete. He also showed me a copy of the book of Isaiah,
which had occupied him one hundred and seven days. It was exquisitely
executed.
Seeing upon the table a richly worked book-cover of silk and velvet,
with the letters, "J. N." embroidered in olive leaves upon it, I asked
Mary if that, being so elegant, was not for the High Priest.
"No," answered Martha, with brightening eyes, speaking before her
sister could reply, "that is for our friend, and the friend and brother
of Lazarus."
"What is his name?" I asked.
"Jesus, of Nazareth."
"I have heard John speak of this person," said my cousin Mary, with
animation. "I should feel happy to know him also."
"If you had been here a few days ago," replied Martha, "you would have
seen him. He left us, after being with us three weeks, to return to
Nazareth. But he requested to meet Lazarus at Bethabara, on the third
day from this, for some important reason; and my brother will go, for
he loves him so that he would cross the seas to meet him."
"Then," said Rabbi Amos to Lazarus, "if you are to journey so soon
towards Jordan to meet your friend, you had best join our company and
share our escort." To this Lazarus consented.
I left this blessed abode with regret, and felt that I should be
perfectly happy if I could be admitted as a fifth link in the wealth of
their mutual love.
About noon we stopped at a caravanserai, half the way to Jericho
from Bethany. Here we overtook a friend of Rabbi Amos, the venerable
and learned scholar and lawyer, Gamaliel. Accompanying the lawyer,
Gamaliel, was a young man who was his disciple, and who went with
him as a companion by the way. His name is Saul, and I noticed him
particularly, because I overheard the venerable lawyer say that he was
the most remarkable young man who had ever sat at his feet to learn
the mysteries of the law. This young law disciple and Lazarus rode
together, and talked long and earnestly by the way, the former thinking
that nothing but mischief would come of the new prophet's preaching,
while the latter warmly defended him and his mission as divine. To
their conversation the Roman centurion listened with the closest
attention, for Saul was learned in the Prophets, and drew richly from
its stores to prove that the true Messias can never be heralded by so
mean a messenger as this preacher of repentance in the wilderness.
I now write to thee beneath the roof of the country residence of Rabbi
Amos. To-morrow early we are going to Bethabara, a little village
beyond Jordan, but situated on its banks, near which we learn John is
now baptizing. Lazarus has gone on with Saul and the learned Gamaliel,
with many lawyers and doctors in company, who desire to see and hear
this prophet of the wilderness.
That the hope of Israel may not be long deferred, and that we may
receive the Messias, when he cometh, in humble faith, in honor and in
love, is the prayer of
Your affectionate daughter,
Adina.