have recalled the history of her nation; she may have remembered all the
interpositions of Divine mercy in past extremities; and doubtless she
relied upon those promises for the future which induced in Mordecai a
confident hope of deliverance. She remembered that Jehovah--the God of
Israel--hears the prayers of the humble and the contrite. She appointed
a solemn fast of three days, in which the Jews of Shushan should humble
themselves and remember her before the God of their fathers.
A more eminent instance of simple dependence upon the Divine
interposition, or of entire reliance upon the voice of prayer, has
seldom if ever, occurred. There was no resort to outward ceremonies to
awaken a deeper feeling, or to atone for the want of it by a formal
observance. There was no altar, no sacrifice, no long procession, no
promised offering, no resort to temple or priest, but there was the call
upon God from the depth of the soul--the simple, unfailing trust of the
heart, the personal humiliation, the individual prayer, the united
offerings of supplication and confession from a whole people. There was
the simple faith that relies on the Divine power and pleads the Divine
promises with submission to the Divine will. It was a strange contrast
to the sensual, gross, superstitious, and unholy rites of the heathen,
while from its deep spiritual meaning, and from the entire absence of
all merely formal observance, it was both a precedent and a model for
future ages, and for the holy spiritual worshipper of other days.
It was no heartless service, no formal act of worship rendered by the
Jews of Shushan, when Esther called upon them to pray and to fast with
her and for her. While the queen and her maidens fasted in the recesses
of the palace, in many a lowly home or quiet chamber were gathered the
race of Esther, to commit her and themselves to Jehovah, to beseech him
to forgive the sins of his people and save them, for his mercy's sake,
in this hour of their extremity. Mingled with their personal
apprehension and anxiety for their wives and their children would be
thoughts of "the daughter of their people"--their beautiful queen--so
young, so fair, so lately exalted to the pinnacle of honour and glory;
adorned with gems and wreathed with flowers, the pride of a monarch and
the ornament of a court; now, neglected, abject, forsaken--included in
the doom of her race, prostrate in some secluded apartment of the
palace--her royal apparel exchanged for sackcloth and ashes--still
cleaving to the God of her fathers, and still identifying herself with
her kindred and countrymen. Whether they regarded her royal state, her
tender years, her bitter desolation, or her heroic resolution, all the
sympathies of the heart, all the purest feelings of the nation, would be
called forth in her behalf.
Other feelings would find a place in the hearts of the Jews as they
contemplated their present state. The last deed of the Amalekite would
bring to recollection the injuries of ages. This Haman, who now, in a
time of profound peace and full security--while both races were exiles
from the land of their fathers--had plotted the ruin of their nation,
the total extermination of their race; who had doomed the feeble and
helpless, the little one and the aged, to perish with the strong man in
his might; this Haman was the son of those who fell upon the tribes,
faint and weary, in the wilderness; who had pursued them with inveterate
hatred; who had ever joined with their foes or stood ready to attack
them in their defenceless state.
When we recollect that the conspiracy of Haman but closed the long train
of injuries inflicted on Israel by Amalek, we shall not so much wonder
at the feelings sometimes expressed by the Jew. The character of the
tribe was still the same--their course through all years was unaltered.
And now, while Amalek has perished and the Jew survives, we can form no
just estimate of that national feud. Haman was a type of his
race--artful, cruel, treacherous, and bloody; and what the Roman was to
Hannibal, what the ancient Persian was to Greece, what the Turk is to
modern Greece, what Russia is to the Pole, such was the Amalekite to the
Jew.
While Esther had manifested her sense of dependence upon the eternal
Ruler of nations, and her faith and reliance upon the God of her
fathers, by humbling herself before him and relying upon his protection
and interposition in this hour of darkness, she showed, too, a knowledge
of the human heart, not often acquired at her age; an instinctive
insight into the character and the motives of those around her, with the
power of adapting herself to circumstances, that has seldom been
displayed in one so young, combined with so many of the higher qualities
of the woman.
She knew the weak point in the character of Ahasuerus, and she forgot
not the power of beauty, the influence of personal charms, as she
arrayed her fair form in the rich and splendid vestments that so well
became her, and summoned all the aid of oriental art and elegance to her
toilette, that her presumption might be forgiven in her loveliness--that
favour won by her beauty might be extended to her nation; and if she
felt the hope of pleasing, as she surveyed herself in the polished
metallic mirror, decked with the magnificence of a royal bride and
adorned with the gifts of him whose favour she would seek, her heart
might have sunk too at the remembrance of the favour she had once won
and lost. In assuming the crown placed upon her brow by Ahasuerus,
there was a tacit claim to her royal rights; for that gemmed circlet was
not only a badge of rank, but a pledge of affection--a token of honour
and royal favour, which elevated her above the throng of beauties who
filled the courts of the palace. Had she arrayed herself in sackcloth,
had she appeared as a mourner, an afflicted suppliant, she would
probably have found the royal voluptuary more anxious to banish one who
disturbed his pleasures, than to redress the grievances that appealed to
his justice.
Yet it must have been with trembling limbs and a beating heart that she
stood before Ahasuerus; and, by entering his presence unbidden, she made
her mute appeal to his mercy.
And strange, at that unwonted place and hour, must have appeared the
beautiful vision to the king, while courtiers and attendants stood in
silent amazement. There was but one anxious moment before the sceptre
was extended; the trembling queen touched it, and thus was encouraged to
prefer her petition for any favour that the royal hand could bestow. The
presence of Esther seems to have revived at once the fondness of the
monarch, and all his coldness and indifference vanished like the mist
before the rising sun. All the arts of Haman had been needed to wean him
from her and to teach him to forget her. How rarely does a vile, unholy
counsellor or companion seek to corrupt a private man, or a prince, or a
ruler, without striving first to undermine the influence of the virtuous
wife, mother, or sister!
Warily does the royal suppliant present her request, still uncertain of
the degree of favour on which she might rely. She offered no petition
that could embarrass the king. She made no complaint of past neglects.
She uttered no word of upbraiding for forgotten vows; but delicately
implying that his presence was the source of her happiness, that this
had constrained her to break through all the formal observances of
courtly restraint and endanger life itself, she besought him to honour
her by attending a banquet which she had prepared. Thus she avoided the
awakening of the suspicions of Haman by even asking to see the monarch
without his presence. Including him in her invitation, she allayed all
jealousy of a wish to exert an influence inimical to his, while she thus
offered an additional inducement to Ahasuerus to honour her feast.
By a strong effort and great self-command, the young queen retained her
calmness and preserved her grace and gayety. And even when the banquet
had closed and the guests had retired, and the king again asked her to
prefer her petition, she did not venture to prefer that which was
nearest her heart. His favour was too uncertain and his favourite too
powerful. She only besought his presence again as a guest, and again his
favourite was included in the invitation.
The Jews were still lying low before their God. When the feast in the
palace was broken up, and the gates were shut, the high walls cast their
shadows upon the moat. The sentinels still moved with measured tread.
The lights gradually disappeared, except those that told of some one
watching over the sick or dying, or some chance-beam betraying a late
carousal. In the palace, the soft footfall of the attendants in the
antechambers, could not disturb the slumbers of the monarch, while
strains of sweetest music were ready to lull him to repose, as warder
and sentinel kept watch over his safety. But still "that night the king
could not sleep;" and wakeful, restless, solitary, he commanded his
attendants to bring him the archives of his kingdom, and read to him
the records of his reign. Strange request! How few monarchs would care
thus to review the past, and force themselves to the judgment awaiting
them from a higher tribunal and from future ages!
It was not chance which held the eyes of the king waking. It was not
chance which drew his attention to the conspiracy defeated by Mordecai,
and to the investigation of the treatment he had received for so high a
service. No reward, no honour had been conferred upon one who had saved
the life of the sovereign. A strange forgetfulness or neglect of the
prime minister of the realm! While Ahasuerus was devising some mode of
requiting the obligation due to one who had rendered the state important
service, he called for a counsellor, and was told that Haman was
without, in the court.
Haman left the banquet of Esther in all the assurance of royal favour.
He had attained to honours which distinguished him above all the
subjects of the Persian empire. He had received distinctions which
elevated him above even the princes and nobles of the kingdom; and in
his pomp and power he passed, with his train of attendants, menials,
flatterers, and followers, through the gates of the royal palace, "the
observed of all observers;" and as he came into the thronged
thoroughfare that led from the royal abode, all did him homage and
showed him reverence--save one.
Mordecai, the Jew, still sat at the king's gate--probably, still wrapped
in sackcloth. His eye met that of Haman, but it quailed not. It was a
stern, reproving glance! And while all others did lowliest obeisance,
Mordecai neither bowed nor uncovered his head.
There was no word--there was no reproach--but there was a silent
defiance, that conveyed to the soul of Haman an assurance of disgrace
and defeat, and that told him he was despised, amid all his honours and
prosperity. He hastened to his home. He gathered his household around
him and told them of his riches, his honour, his prosperity, and the
assurance his large family afforded him that his riches would descend in
his own line, and that his ancient lineage and royal race should thus be
perpetuated. He told them of the high honour that day received at the
royal feast, and of a like honour in reserve for the morrow. But still
his pride was mortified by Mordecai's course. "All this availeth me
nothing," he said, "so long as I see Mordecai, the Jew, sitting at the
king's gate." Wretched, malignant man! What a picture of the power and
force of evil passions--of that selfishness which could find its
happiness in the misery and suffering of others!
His hatred of Mordecai seems the more insane, when we remember that
Haman held his fate in his hands, or rather had actually sealed his
doom. He might well forego forms of reverence from the man he had doomed
to death. Yet the desire for the humiliation of Mordecai, for some token
of abasement and fear, seems to have absorbed all other feelings; and as
this was the only thing withheld, so it was the only thing desired. To
soothe the disgust and allay the indignation of Haman, the family
council decreed the immediate death of Mordecai, and they doomed him to
the gallows--a most ignominious death. While this instrument of his
destruction was in preparation upon the grounds of Haman, he sought
Ahasuerus, that the sentence might be ratified. He who had given him the
power to murder a nation, would surely assent to forestalling the doom
of an individual; and Mordecai's disobedience to the royal order, his
disrespect to the minister who represented the authority of the
sovereign and the laws of the realm, seemed to offer a fitting pretext.
While Haman was waiting in the antechamber for audience, Ahasuerus was
resolving some mode of requiting Mordecai; and, ever prone to rely on
favourites and counsellors, he was unable to decide for himself; so he
sought advice from his favourite courtier, who was so near at hand. To
him the question was submitted: "What shall be done to the man whom the
king delighteth to honour?" Ever selfish, ever intent upon his own
promotion, and constantly loaded with marks of royal favour, Haman very
naturally presumed that fresh honours were destined for him, and that he
was to be allowed to designate the very marks of favour which he most
desired.
"Now Haman thought in his heart, to whom would the king delight to do
honour more than to myself?" And so he answered the king: "To the man
whom the king delighteth to honour, let the royal apparel be brought
which the king useth to wear, and the horse that the king rideth upon,
and the royal crown which is set upon his head. And let this apparel and
horse be delivered to the hand of one of the king's most noble princes,
that they may array the man withal whom the king delighteth to honour,
and bring him on horseback through the streets of the city, and proclaim
before him, Thus shall it be done to the man whom the king delighteth to
honour."
If Haman intended this as a mere vain-glorious display--an impressive
pageant, designed to publish to the people the high dignity of royal
favour which he personally enjoyed--it would not be without meaning; but
we cannot but think that, according to Eastern usage, there was a deeper
significance in the ceremony.
The customs of the East are almost immutable, and there was much
similarity between those of Egypt, Assyria and Persia. When Joseph was
exalted to be ruler of Egypt, he was clothed in royal vestments, and
passed in triumphant procession through the city, while all were called
upon to bow the knee before him. Daniel was clothed in scarlet and in
purple (the badges of royalty) while his honours were announced. But
Joseph rode in the second chariot of Pharaoh, and his distance from
royal state was clearly defined, while Daniel was declared third in the
empire of the Medes and Persians.
In appropriating all the badges of royalty--the crown, the robes, the
horse, the princely attendance--Haman seems to have been preparing a
claim to higher honour than those of Joseph or Daniel; to be even
preparing to ascend the throne. All the homage that could be shown the
subject had long been exacted. A nation was now under a dreadful doom
because only one of their race withheld it; and now he would take to
himself all the appendages of royal state!
A sudden tumult in the palace, a popular outbreak, so common with
despotic governments, might easily be accomplished, and Haman might
ascend the throne of Ahasuerus--for the lines of descent seem to have
been not unfrequently changed in the Persian empire; and in the
convulsions of despotic states, even slaves have mounted the thrones of
their masters.
Whether, in his designs, he merely sought the gratification of a present
vain-glorious ambition or was preparing for a higher destiny, the
revulsion must have been most overwhelming, the change and surprise
inexpressible, when the announcement and command of the king fell upon
his ear.
"Make haste!" said he, "take the apparel, and the horse, as thou hast
said, and do even so to Mordecai the Jew, who sitteth at the king's
gate. Let nothing fail that thou hast spoken." You have devised the very
highest honour that I can render: now confer it on the man I designate.
The Eastern despots are arbitrary; and Haman, confounded and petrified,
ventured no remonstrance. He bowed and obeyed. He departed as the
messenger of honour to Mordecai the Jew. Whatever the malignant and
bitter feelings of his heart, he dared not give expression to them. He
was compelled to serve the man he hated, to confer the highest honour on
the man he had doomed to the deepest obloquy, publicly to bow before one
whom he hoped to trample beneath his feet! With what contending
feelings must he have delivered the mandate of the king to Mordecai!
What strong emotion must have convulsed his soul! Yet the most powerful
feelings are seldom displayed. The green sod covers the pent volcano,
and a slight trembling alone denotes the action of the devouring
element. It is all repose and calmness on the surface while the billows
of flame are raging beneath.
Thus the aspect of the courtier was calm, though sullen, while with his
own hands he acted as chamberlain to the Jew and arrayed him in robes of
royalty and honour. We may imagine a group for a painter, in Haman,
dark, malignant, and sullen--and Mordecai, calm, proud, unbending,
receiving service from his enemy. And after having with his own hands
arrayed the new object of royal favour, Haman was placed at the head of
the proud war-horse, as he slowly bore the Jew through the multitude,
who thronged the street "to behold the man whom the king delighteth to
honour." We seem to see him--the proudest, the most arrogant of
men--with bowed head and averted eye, while Mordecai sits erect and
firm, in all the dignity of conscious worth.
As they slowly proceed through the thronged thoroughfare, obstructed by
crowds who came to gaze upon the pageant, many a significant sneer or
half-uttered jest would convey to Haman a sense of his degradation in
appearing as the groom of the despised Jew.
When the ceremonies were over, Mordecai again appeared at the gates of
the palace. Nothing in the apparent condition of the two was changed,
and the pageant may have seemed like a dream to Mordecai. He was only
anxious to know the proceedings and fate of Esther. Yet he must have
gathered hope for the future, as he still trusted and waited upon God.
But a dark cloud had fallen upon Haman. He foreboded his doom. He was
humbled, disappointed, degraded, disgraced. He had been paraded, before
the multitudes, the menial of the Jew. He had been forced to confer on
the man he hated the very honours his soul most coveted. "And Haman
hasted to his house mourning and having his head covered." And he told
his wife and the friends whom he had gathered to consult upon the fall
of the Jew, all that had befallen him. And clear, far-sighted, daring,
and unscrupulous, the wife who had counselled Mordecai's destruction,
foretold to Haman his own doom. "If Mordecai be of the Jews, before whom
thou hast begun to fall, thou shalt not prevail against him, but shall
surely fall before him."
And they were probably counselling some measures for his personal
safety; for when they were yet talking, came the king's chamberlain,
and hasted to bring Haman to the feast Esther had prepared.
As the feast proceeded, the king entreated Esther to ask some gift that
he might bestow as a token of favour, or a pledge of affection. And then
Esther, with a simple fervour, force, and dignity, and with the pathos
of true feeling, offered her supplication for herself and her nation.
"And Esther answered the king and said, If I have found favour 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 destroyed, to be slain, to perish." She quotes the words
of Haman's edict, and then adds, "But if we had been sold for bond-men
and bond women, I had held my peace, although the enemy could not
countervail the king's damage," nor recompense the loss of so many of
the king's useful citizens and peaceful subjects. Nothing could be more
sweet, gentle, submissive, and truly dignified than her appeal. And the
imagination and astonishment of the king are graphically displayed in
his answer. Who is he? Where is he that hath presumed in his heart to do
so? Who has dared to conspire against one so near my person, so exalted
by my favour?
Confounded, amazed--and probably for the first time suspecting the
Jewish extraction of the queen--Haman was still speechless when Esther
made her direct and firm reply: "That adversary, that wicked man, is
Haman," here in the royal presence--here in the full blaze of royal
favour.
In the conscious justice of her cause, she had desired to be confronted
with the man she accused, and he was present, that he might enjoy every
opportunity of defence, if innocent; and if guilty, that he might
receive the just reward of his deeds. The king was filled with wrath at
this proof of the presumption and malice of his favourite, and he left
the banqueting-room and went into the palace-garden.
Haman, quick to read the feelings of his master, "saw that wrath was
determined." Unable to escape the watchful attendants, and moved by
terror, he approached the royal couch of Esther to beseech her, whom he
had greatly injured, to intercede for him. And while he was thus
engaged, the king re-entered the banqueting-house. His wrath was
rekindled. The imprudence of Haman hastened the doom his crimes had
provoked. The excited monarch, witnessing his apparent familiarity,
accused him of designs of which his previous presumption might show him
capable. His sentence was pronounced--his doom was sealed. The
attendants covered his face, (a most significant act, still retained in
Eastern courts,) and he was carried from the royal presence-chamber, and
hung upon the very gallows he had erected for Mordecai. The flowers
which were gathered for the feast and the wreaths entwined for his brow
were still fresh.
The succeeding interview of Ahasuerus with his still loved and more than
beautiful consort, must have been one of no slight interest. There was
much to unfold and to explain; there was something to confess and to
forgive; and as the character of Haman was now exposed and his acts were
revealed, the king may have regarded himself as the bird escaped from
the fowler. Esther revealed her lineage; while the rising favour of
Haman, the dangers to be anticipated from his hatred to her nation, well
justified the prudent caution of Mordecai. As the queen told the king in
what relation Mordecai stood to her, Mordecai was brought before him;
and the former honour proved but indeed the installation into the
highest offices of trust, while the vast possessions of Haman were
conferred on Esther, and Mordecai was appointed her steward.
Yet, while the royal favour and protection was extended to these
individuals, the edict was still in force against the race, and again
Esther besought the king to interpose his power and protection. The laws
of the Medes and Persians, however impolitic and unjust, could not be
repealed. The king had no power over the statutes he had made. Like the
deeds of life, once passed, they were unchangeable. He might regret the
act, he might deprecate the influence thus put in operation, but he
could neither recall nor cancel them; and one instance attempted might
have destroyed the royal power.