MANASSEH AND ASRU AT KHAIBAR.
"Spirit of purity and grace,
Our weakness, pitying, see!
O make our hearts thy dwelling-place,
And worthier Thee."
The Koreish, after their disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Ditch,
returned in bitter disappointment to Mecca. Many even of the bravest of
the tribe felt that it was hopeless to strive against the prophet, whose
phenomenal success seemed to render his troops invincible. Many, too,
with the superstition at all times common to the Arabs, were in deadly
dread of his "enchantments," and were only too ready to listen to his
bold assertions that the momentous storm at the siege of Medina had been
caused in his favor by heavenly agency; that a great host of angels had
been in invisible co-operation with the Moslems and had drawn their
legions about the ill-fated company, crying, "God is great!" and
striking panic to the hearts of the besiegers.
Because of these superstitions the hearts of the Arabs failed them, and
they day after day lessened in their hostility, and increased in their
spirit of submission to the now famous prophet of El Islam.
The Jews, however, held out to the last, and against them the reeking
blades of Mohammed's army were turned. The Jewish tribes of the
Koraidha, Kainoka, and the Nadhirites, in the vicinity of Medina, were
speedily overthrown, and their goods taken possession of by the Moslems.
Then, before the blood cooled on the scimitars, these conquests were
followed by the dastardly assassination of the few Jews who were still
in Medina, and, being possessed of considerable property, were a
tempting bait to the avaricious prophet, who now, making religion a
cloak to cover his greed and ambition, went to the wildest excesses in
attaining his objects.
Many of the Jews, escaping dearly with their lives, fled to the city of
Khaïbar, five days' journey to the northeast of Medina, a city inhabited
by Jews, who, living in the midst of a luxuriant farming district, had
grown rich in the peaceful arts of agriculture and commerce. Others
hastened thither in the hope that Khaïbar might become the nucleus of a
successful resistance of Mohammed's power in the near future; and among
the latter class was Manasseh.
Late one afternoon he arrived in the rich pasture-lands surrounding the
city. The air of peace and prosperity, the lowing of herds and bleating
of sheep, delighted him; and, though weary from his journey, it was with
a light heart that he urged his flagging horse between the long groves
of palm-trees until the city came in sight.
His martial spirit glowed as he noted the heavy out-works, and the
strength of the citadel Al Kamus, which, built on a high rock, and
towering ragged and black against the orange sky of the setting sun,
seemed to the young soldier almost impregnable.
He was welcomed at the gates as another recruit to the gathering forces,
and, on his request, was at once directed to the house of the chief,
Kenana Ibn al Rabi, a man reputed to be exceedingly wealthy. Here he was
courteously received by Kenana and his wife Safiya; and, in a long
conference, he informed the chief of the numbers and zeal of Mohammed's
army, urging upon him the immediate strengthening of the city, as it was
highly probable that the prophet would not long desist from making an
attempt upon a tid-bit so tempting as that which Khaïbar presented.
That evening an informal council of war was held in the court-yard of
the chief's house. Al Hareth, a brother of Asru, a man who, although an
Arab, had been appointed to high office, and had proved himself one of
the most distinguished commanders of the Jewish colony, was present;
and, among others, Asru himself entered.
"Asru!" exclaimed Manasseh, delightedly, hurrying him aside to an
arbor, "you here! I thought I had become separated from you all in that
ill-fated storm. Where are Amzi and Yusuf, know you?"
"Gone to Mecca with Abu Sofian's remnant of an army--as miserable and
hang-head lot of fugitives as ever disgraced field!" said Asru
contemptuously. "By my faith, it shamed me to see our brave friends in
their company, even for the journey!"
"Why did they go to Mecca?"
"Because they were firmly convinced that Mecca will be the next point of
attack," said Asru, "but methinks they shall find themselves mistaken.
Mohammed will keep Mecca as a sort of sacred spot, dedicated to his
worship--and the worship of Allah!" with infinite scorn. "But Khaïbar is
a pomegranate of the highest branches, too mellow, too luscious, too
tempting, to elude his grasp. Yes, Manasseh, Khaïbar will be his next
point of attack. However, I am truly glad that Yusuf and Amzi have gone
home. The Jews and Christians in Mecca will be safe enough for some time
to come, and our friends are getting too old to endure much fatigue of
battle."
"Aye, Asru, you and I are better fitted to face the brunt of the charge
and the weariness of the march. The work of Yusuf and Amzi should be
milder, though not less glorious, than ours."
"You say well," returned the other, with kindling eye. "Asru, for one,
can never forget what they have done for him."
"Asru, are all the stories of the wickedness of your past life--your
cruelty, your treachery, your blasphemy--true?"
"Manasseh, let my past life go into the tomb of oblivion if you will.
'Tis a sorry page for Asru to look upon. The cruelty, the
blasphemy,--aye, boy, I was full of it; but treacherous, never! Whatever
Asru was, and no devil was blacker than he in many ways, he was never
guilty of perfidy, except you call the trying to free Amzi and poor
Dumah perfidy."
"I am glad," returned Manasseh, quietly; "yet it would not matter now,
since our Asru is a changed man."
Asru looked at the youth earnestly. "Manasseh," he said, "does the old
nature never come back upon you? Or have you never known what it was to
feel wrong impulses?"
"Wrong impulses!" exclaimed the other. "Yes, Asru, many and many a time.
Yet, when one does not even look at the evil, but keeps his face turned
steadfastly towards the right, the old self seems to lose its hold. In
drawing near to God we draw away from evil."
"Your words, I know, are true," returned the other; "yet the keeping
from doing wrong seems to me the hardest thing in living a Christian
life."
"But, Asru," said Manasseh, "perhaps you are not loving enough. The more
you love Jesus, and the more you feel him in your life, the easier it
will be to turn from temptation--to hate the thing that inspires it. If
you really love him you simply cannot do what will pain him."
"But the temptation to act hastily, to speak unkindly, comes upon me so
often, Manasseh, that I grow discouraged."
"The only safety is in always looking Above for help. Believe me, Asru,
I speak from experience. Temptation in itself is not sin; the yielding
to it is. Little by little the temptations bother us less, and we grow
in grace. You know this is expected of us. Paul speaks of 'perfecting
holiness in the fear of the Lord.' He says, too, 'The weapons of our
warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of
strongholds.' He said, also, to the Philippians, 'It is God that worketh
in you, both to will and to do of his good pleasure,' and the Lord
himself has said, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is
made perfect in weakness.' So, Asru, my friend, the whole secret is in
accepting that gift, in knowing him, and in keeping the soul in a
constant state of openness for the working of the Holy Spirit--a
'pray-without-ceasing' attitude in which one's whole life is resolved
into the prayer: 'Thy will, not mine, be done.'"
Asru regarded Manasseh curiously.
"How is it, young as you are," he said, "that these things are so plain
to you?"
"Ah, you forget," said Manasseh, "what a blessed home training I have
had, and that from my childhood I have had Yusuf for my counsellor. For
these Christian friends of my childhood, I never cease to be thankful."
Asru turned his face away. "And I, too, have children, Manasseh," he
said in a low voice, "children who, with their mother, are little better
than idolaters, and I have never told them differently."
"But you will teach them?" returned Manasseh.
"Ah, yes, if God spares me through this perilous time I shall teach
them."
"Have you heard or seen aught of Kedar, lately?" asked Manasseh,
abruptly.
"In the Battle of the Ditch I saw him for a moment, charging furiously
against one of Abu Sofian's divisions. He was in advance of the rest,
riding with his head bent in the teeth of the tempest. On a knoll above
me, I saw him for a moment, between me and the sky, his hair and long
sash streaming in the wind; then the rain came, and I saw him no more.
Aye, but he is a brave lad!"
"Poor cousin!" said Manasseh. "It is misplaced bravery. Would he were
one of us!"
"He is not a Christian; and, unless he were so, a spirit like his would
scorn to be one of such a craven, contention-torn mob as that which Abu
Sofian brought to the field. Strange, is it not, that the little band of
Christians find themselves allied to a set of idolaters, against one who
would cast idols down?"
"Aye, but Mohammed would trample Christians and idolaters alike. Think
you that defeat was owing wholly to cowardice of the soldiers?"
"Not so much, perhaps, as to bad generalship of the leader," returned
Asru. "Nevertheless the superstition of the heathen Arabs, and their
fear when the cry of Mohammed's enchantment was raised, made a craven of
every one of them. Manasseh, had we had ten thousand Christian Jews,
there might have been a different story."
"We are nearly all Jews, here," said Manasseh, proudly. "Have you happy
forebodings for the issue of the next combat?"
Asru shook his head, gloomily. "There will be a brave resistance on the
part of our garrisons," he said, "although many of the men are well-nigh
as ignorant and superstitious as the heathen Arabs; but Mohammed's
forces have swelled wondrously since the 'enchanted' storm. Well, we can
but do our best. Now, I see that the council has assembled. They call
us. Come."
The two left the arbor and joined the others in the middle of the
garden. And there, while the stars shone peacefully above in the evening
sky, and the palm-trees waved, and a little bird twittered contentedly
over its nest in an olive bush, these men talked of measures of
fortification, of tactics of war, and schemes of blood-shed; a
conversation forced upon them, not as a matter of choice but of
necessity--the necessity of a desperate few, earthed by a relentless
conqueror and a ruthless despot, whose intolerance to all who denied his
claims has never been surpassed in earth's history.