LITMIR.BIZ

      There was, however, my dear father, last evening, one thing which painfully marred the holy character of the sacred hour. After the blast of the silver trumpets of the Levites had ceased, and while all hearts and eyes were ascending to Jehovah with the mounting wreaths of incense, there came from the Roman castle adjoining the city of David, a loud martial clangor of brazen bugles, and other barbarian war instruments of music, while a smoke, like the smoke of sacrifice, rose from the heights of David's fortified hill. I was told that it was the Romans engaged in worshiping Jupiter. Alas! How truly now are the prophecies fulfilled, which are to be found in the Lamentations: "The Lord hath cast off his altar, he hath given up into the hands of the enemy the walls of her palaces: they have made a noise in the house of the Lord, as in the day of a solemn feast." For these things I weep, my dear father.

      Nearly three hundred years have passed since we have had a prophet—that divine and youthful Malachi. Since his day, Rabbi Amos confesses that Jehovah has made no sign of having heard the prayers or heeded the sacrifices that have been offered to him in his time. I inquired of the intelligent Rabbi if it would always be thus. He replied that when Shiloh came, there would be a restoration of all things—that the glory of Jerusalem then would fill the whole earth with the splendor of the sun, and that all nations should come up from the ends of the world to worship in the Temple.

      My conversation with Rabbi Amos, dear father, led me to examine the Book of the Prophet Malachi. I find that after plainly alluding to our present shame, and reproaching the priests "for causing the people to stumble," he thus prophesies: "Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me; and the Lord whom ye seek shall suddenly come to his Temple, and he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness. Behold," adds the divine seer, "I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord."

      These words I read to-day to Rabbi Amos—indeed I was reading them when Rabbi Ben Israel came in to say that he departs to-morrow. The excellent Amos looked grave. I feared I had offended him by my boldness, and, approaching him, was about to embrace him, when I saw tears were sparkling in his eyes. He took my hand, and smiling, while a glittering drop danced down his snow-white beard and broke into liquid diamonds upon my hand, he said, "You have done no wrong, child; sit down by me and be at peace with thyself. It is too true, in this day, what the Prophet Malachi writeth, O Ben Israel," he said sadly to the Alexandrian Rabbi. "The priests of the Temple have indeed become corrupt, save a few here and there. It must have been at this day the prophet aimed his words. Save in the outward form, I fear the great body of our Levites have little more true religion and just knowledge of the one God Jehovah, than the priests of the Roman idolatry. Alas, I fear me, God regards our sacrifices with no more favor than he looks upon theirs. To-day, while I was in the Temple, and was serving at the altar with the priests, these words of Isaiah came into my thoughts and would not be put aside: 'To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto me? saith the Lord. I am full of the burnt offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; I am weary to bear them; yea, when ye spread forth your hands I will hide mine eyes from you; yea, when ye make many prayers I will not hear; your hands are full of blood. Wash you; make you clean. Cease to do evil; learn to do well.'"

      "I have noticed," said Ben Israel, "that there is less reverence now in the Temple than when I was in Jerusalem a young man; but I find that the magnificence of the ceremonies is increased."

      "Yes," responded Rabbi Amos, with a look of sorrow, "yes, as the soul of piety dies out from within, they gild the outside. The increased richness of the worship is copied from the Romans. So low are we fallen! Our worship, with all its gorgeousness, is as a sepulchre white-washed to conceal the rottenness within!"

      You may be convinced, my dear father, that this confession, from such a source, deeply humbled me. If, then, we are not worshiping God, what do we worship? Naught! We are worse off than our barbarian conquerors, for we have no God; while they at least have gods many and lords many, such as they are.

      Since writing the last line I have been interrupted by Mary, who has brought to see me a youth, nephew of a noble Jewish ruler, who was slain by the Romans for his patriotic devotion to his country. He dwells near the Gaza gate, with his widowed mother, who is a noble lady, honored by all. Between this young man, whose name is John, and Mary, there exists a beautiful attachment, which is each day ripening into the deepest emotion. He has just returned from the vicinity of Jericho, where he has been for some days past, drawn thither by curiosity to see and hear the new prophet, who is drawing thousands into the wilderness, to listen to the eloquence that flows from his mouth. The young man had been giving Mary so interesting an account of him that she desired me also to be a listener. In my next I will write you all I heard.

      Your affectionate and devoted daughter,

      Adina.

LETTER III.

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      My Dear Father:

      This morning, as I was coming from the Temple, I noticed a vast pile of edifices crowning the opposite rock, which I was told was the Tower of Antonia. It seemed to frown sternly upon the Temple; and upon its battlements glittered, at intervals, numerous Roman eagles. I had so often heard you relate historical events connected with this celebrated castle, that I regarded it with peculiar interest. You seemed to stand by my side as I gazed upon it. The insolence and power of the Roman garrison have made the beautiful walk about the base of the tower almost deserted; but of this I was not aware; and, attended only by my Ethiopian slave, Onia, I lingered to admire the splendor of the cloister once surrounding the treasure-house of the Temple, with its terraces supported by white marble pillars, fifteen cubits high, when two Roman soldiers approached. It was then that I saw I was alone. I drew my veil closely, and would have passed them rapidly, when one of them placed himself in my path, and catching hold of my veil, tried to detain me. I left it in his grasp and was flying, when the other soldier arrested me. This was in full view of the castle, and at my shrieks the barbarians in the castle laughed aloud. At this crisis appeared a young centurion, who was on horseback, coming down the rocky path that ascends the Rock of Zion, and shouting to them, he galloped forward, and with his sword put the men to immediate flight and rescued me. In order to escort me safely to the streets below, he alighted from his horse, and leading him by the rein, walked by my side. I confess to you, dear father, I had not reached the house of my relative before my prejudices against the Romans were greatly modified. I had found in one of them as courteous a person as I had ever met with among my own countrymen, and for his sake I was willing to think better of his barbaric land and people.