The City of Delight

From his memories of the old Passovers of his boyhood, he saw

instantly that there had come a change over Judea and the worshiping

sons of Abraham.

They went in bodies, in numbers from a handful from some remote but

pious hamlet to great armies from the leveled cities of Joppa,

Ptolemais and Anthedon, from Cæsarea and Tyre and Sidon, from the

enthusiastic towns in Galilee, and even from far-off Antioch and

Ephesus. They were not fewer in number, because of a year of warfare

and the menace of an approaching army upon the city in which they were

to take refuge. But there were more--double, even triple the number

that usually went up to Jerusalem at this time. For of the millions of

inhabitants in Judea in the unhappy year of 70 A.D., a third of them

were plundered and homeless refugees from ruined cities. Therefore,

instead of the armies of men, happy, hopeful and enthusiastic, who had

journeyed in former years to Jerusalem, there passed before the

Maccabee a mixed multitude of men and women and children. Thousands

carried with them all that warfare had left to them--pitiful parcels

of treasure or household goods, or extra clothing; other thousands

bore nothing in their hands, and by the wear in their garments and the

hunger in their faces, it seemed that they owned nothing to carry.

The Maccabee noted finally the entire absence of the travelers who

fared in state. Not in all that long procession that wound up the

stony passage from the west, did he see a single Sadducee. There went

mobs of laborers and farmers, tradesmen, servants and small merchants,

but the Jewish friends of Rome that had once made part of the Passover

pilgrimage a royal progress were nowhere to be seen. Under the vast,

vivid blue of the mountain skies they moved, indifferent to the

splendid benevolence of the untroubled day. The pure wind swept in

from the radiance in the east, flinging out multi-colored garments and

scarves, rushing with its bracing chill without obstruction through

even the compactest mass of wayfarers. The cedars on the hills about

the little town whistled continuously and at times some extremely

narrow defile with an uninterrupted draft would take voice and cry

humanly. But there was no responsive exhilaration to the vigor of

morning on a mountain-top. The great ever-growing migration was dark,

dangerous and moody.

Somewhere beyond the highest of the blue hills to the east, the white

walls of the city of David were receiving all this. Somewhere to the

west the four brassy legions of Titus were marching down upon all

this. About the Maccabee were assembling all the circumstances that

govern a tremendous struggle. Eagerness, earnestness, all the strength

and resolution of his strong and resolute nature surged into his soul.

It was his hour. It should find him prepared.