Trials Of The Heart

: Hebrew Heroes

For the first time in the course of her life, Zarah dreaded a meeting

with Hadassah. Though the season was now so far advanced that the heat

of the sun was great, the maiden lingered on the shadeless housetop,

leaning her brow against the parapet, listlessly gazing towards

Jerusalem, but with her mind scarcely taking in the objects upon which

her eyes were fixed. Was it a foreboding of coming sorrow, or a

feeling of
elf-reproach, that brooded over the maiden's soul? Zarah

was afraid to analyze her own feelings: she only knew that her heart

was very heavy.



Nearly two hours thus passed. The sun had now approached the horizon,

and the heat was less oppressive. Zarah heard the slow step of

Hadassah ascending the stair, and rose to meet her, but with a

sensation of fear. The remembrance of that look of sad displeasure,

such as had never been turned upon her before, had haunted the mind of

the conscious girl. Was Hadassah angry with her daughter? Would she

come to probe a heart which had never from childhood kept a secret from

one so tenderly loved? Zarah was afraid to raise her eyes to

Hadassah's when they met, lest she should encounter that stern look

again; but never had the aged lady's face worn an expression of greater

tenderness than it did when, on the housetop, she rejoined the child of

her love.



"Have you been here in the heat of the sun, my dove, letting the fierce

rays beat on your unveiled face?" said Hadassah, after printing a kiss

on the maiden's brow. "Nay, I must chide you, my Zarah. Seat yourself

where yon tall palm now throws its shadow, and I will sit beside you.

We will talk of the glorious tidings which Abishai brought to us

to-day."



It was a great relief to Zarah to hear that such was to be the subject

of the coming conversation. She glanced timidly up into the face of

Hadassah; and, quite reassured by what she saw there, took her

favourite place at her grandmother's feet.



"Is it not evident," pursued Hadassah, "that the arm of the Lord is

stretched out to fight for Judah---that His blessing goes with Judas

Maccabeus? Do you not rejoice, Zarah, in the victory which has been

won by our Hebrew heroes?"



"I do rejoice; I thank God for it," replied the maiden. "I hope that a

time is coming when we shall go forth, like the women of Israel in

olden time, who went singing and dancing to meet Saul and David, after

the triumph over the Philistines."



"David, when he slew Goliath and won the hand of a king's daughter,

deserved not more of his country than does Maccabeus," observed

Hadassah. "Are you not proud of your kinsman, my child?"



"All Judaea is proud of her hero," said Zarah.



"Happy the woman whom he shall choose as his bride!" cried Hadassah.



The maiden gave no reply.



"Zarah, why should I longer conceal from you what has so long been in

my thoughts?" said the aged lady, after a pause of some minutes'

duration. "Why should you not know of the high honour awaiting my

daughter? From your early childhood both Mattathias, our revered

kinsman--on whose grave be peace!--and myself have looked forward to

the future espousals of my loved Zarah and Judas."



"Judas! Oh, no, no!" exclaimed Zarah, suddenly withdrawing her

trembling hand from that of her grandmother, in which it had been

clasped. "He is wedded to his country; he will never think of taking a

wife." She spoke rapidly, and with some emotion.



"His toils and triumphs may, and I trust will, lead to future peace,"

said Hadassah. "Then may he enjoy the happiness which he has earned so

well. Will you not give it to him, Zarah--you, whose very name

signifies 'brightness'?"



"I honour Maccabeus as a hero; I could reverence him as my prince; I

would kneel and wash the dust from his feet, or cut off my long hair to

string his bow; but I cannot be his bride," exclaimed Zarah. "I am so

weak, so unworthy! It would be like mating the eagle with the sparrow

that sits on the housetops. Maccabeus is the noblest of men."



"Blessed the wife who can so honour her lord!" said Hadassah.



"I do honour Maccabeus from the depths of my soul; but--but I fear

him," faltered Zarah.



"Were you a Syrian you might say so," observed Hadassah, with a faint

approach to a smile; "but not as a daughter of Judah. Terrible as he

is to his country's foes, to armed oppressors, no maiden had ever cause

to dread Maccabeus. The sharp thorns of the cactus make it an

impenetrable fence which the strongest intruder cannot break through;

yet bears it brilliant flowers and refreshing fruit. The strong

war-horse tramples down the enemy in battle; but in peace the little

child unharmed may play with his mane. The bravest are the most

gentle. Judas is no exception to this rule. Pure-hearted and true, he

is one to make a woman happy."



Zarah sighed, and drooped her head.



"Was it not a proud moment for Achsah, when Othniel, after the conquest

of Kirjathsepher, claimed her hand as the victor's prize?" asked

Hadassah.



"But Achsah was the daughter of a Caleb," said Zarah. Then, raising

her head, she suddenly inquired--"Did my father also destine me to be

the bride of my kinsman?"



Hadassah winced at the question, as if a painful wound had been touched.



"Oh, my child, have pity on me," she faintly murmured, "and speak not

of him!"



Zarah had for long known that there was one subject which she dared

never approach. Her grandmother had, as it were, one locked chamber in

her heart, which no one might venture to open. Whether Zarah's father

were dead or not, the maiden knew not. She faintly remembered a tall,

handsome man, who had played with her tresses and danced her in his

arms when she was a child, in her early home at Bethsura; but since she

had left that home in company with her grandmother, she had never seen

him nor heard his name. The slightest allusion to her father by Zarah

had caused such distress to Hadassah, that the child had soon learned

to be silent, though not to forget. Hadassah often spoke of Miriam,

her only daughter, and of Zarah's own gentle mother--twin-roses, as she

would call them, both early gathered for heaven in the first year of

their wedded lives--but of her son she never would speak. A mystery

hung round the fate of Abner--such was his name--which his daughter

vainly longed to penetrate. Her heart reproached her now for the

unguarded question into which she had been surprised.



"Oh, forgive me, mother," said Zarah, kissing the hand of Hadassah,

which was tremulous and cold; "your word, your will, shall be enough

for me in all things, except--oh, ask me not to wed my kinsman."



"Is it, can it be because another has a nearer place in your heart?"

said Hadassah. The fair countenance of Zarah became suddenly rosy as

the sunlit cloud, then pale as Lebanon snow, at the question.



"Oh, then, my fears are too true!" exclaimed Hadassah, in a tone not of

wrath but of anguish. "Must the sins of the father be visited upon the

innocent child! A Gentile--a heathen--an idolater! Would I had died

ere this day!"



"Be not angry with me, mother," faltered Zarah, wetting Hadassah's hand

with her tears.



"I am not angry, my poor dove," cried the widow. "Woe is me that I

have been, as it were, constrained to expose you to this cruel snare.

But you will break through it," she added, with more animation, "my

bird will rise above earth with her silver wings unsullied and bright!

Various are the temptations which the soul's enemy employs to draw away

God's servants from their allegiance; some he would sway through their

fears; others he would win by the love of the world, its wealth and its

pleasures; others he would chain by their hearts' strong affections.

But the Lord gives strength to his people, to resist and to conquer,

whether the temptation be from fear or from love. You are the worthy

kinsman of Solomona, who gave life itself for the faith."



"Perhaps the sacrifice of life is not the hardest to make," Zarah

dreamily replied.



"Solomona gave her seven sons," said Hadassah.



"Oh, what a mercy-stroke to her was that which let her follow them!"

exclaimed Zarah. "Had she been left to survive all whom she loved,

Solomona had been the most wretched woman on earth!"



"No; not the most wretched," said Hadassah, with deep feeling, "for

they all died in the faith. Better, all, far better to lose seven by

death, than one by--by treason against God!" And in an almost

inaudible voice the aged lady added, closing her eyes, "Must I know

that misery twice?"



"No, mother, mine own dear mother, you shall never know that misery

through me!" exclaimed Zarah with animation. "I will pray, I will

strive, I will try to put away, even from my thoughts, all that would

come between me and the faith of a daughter of Abraham, only guide me,

help me, tell your child what she should do," and the maiden

passionately kissed again and again the hand of Hadassah, and then

pillowed her aching head on her parent's bosom. Hadassah folded her

there in a long and tender embrace.



"I would send you to Bethsura, to my aged cousin, Rachel," said the

widow, "only"--



"Oh, send me not away; let me stay beside you; your health is failing;

I should never know peace afar from you!" sobbed Zarah, in a tone of

entreaty.



"I dare not send my child to Idumea, with no safe escort, and the

Syrians, men of Belial, holding the land," said Hadassah. "Better keep

her here under my wing, in the quiet seclusion of my home. But, oh, my

child, attend to the voice of your mother; you must avoid meeting the

Gentile stranger; you must be little in the lower apartments, Zarah,

and never save when I am there also. Your trial will not last long;

the Athenian's wounds are healing; after the Passover-feast, Abishai

will leave Jerusalem to join the patriot band. When he is once safe

beyond reach of the enemy, I will no longer for one hour harbour

Lycidas under my roof; he has been here far too long already. Your

painful struggle will now last but a short time, my Zarah."



Zarah thought, though she did not say so, that the heart struggle would

last as long as her earthly existence.



"You will obey me, my daughter?" asked the widow; "you will shun the

too attractive society of the stranger?"



The maiden bowed her head in assent, and murmured, "Pray for me,

mother; I am so weak."



"My life shall be one prayer," said Hadassah.



"Mine--one sacrifice," thought the poor maiden. "Oh, may that

sacrifice be accepted!"



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