Around the World with Josiah Allen's Wife by Marietta Holley (life changing books TXT) 📗

deep thought and feeling. Tommy, who had heard us talkin’ about Herod walling in that part of the city, wonnered how any man could be so wicked as the cruel king who killed all the little children, and he wonnered if there ever wuz another king in the hull world so wicked.

And my Josiah soothed his childish feelings by assuring him that all such wicked rulers wuz dead and buried ages ago.

And so queer is Arvilly’s mind since what she’s went through that she spoke right up and told Tommy that there wuz lots of rulers to-day jest as wicked and fur wickeder. Sez she, “There are plenty of men in every city in America that get the right from the rulers of the country to destroy children in a much worse way than to cut their heads off.”

Sez she, “There are men who entice young children to smoke cigarettes, drugged on purpose to form a thirst for strong drink, then enticed into drinking-dives, where goodness and innocence are murdered and evil passions planted and nursed into life, for the overthrowing of all their 285 goodness, for the murder of their family’s safety and happiness and making them the nation’s menace and greatest danger.”

And Tommy wonnered and wonnered what could make men do so, and so did I.

And Arvilly sez, “What is cuttin’ off the heads of twenty or thirty babies compared to the thousands and thousands of murders that this licensed evil causes every year?”

Tommy’s pretty face looked sad and he sez: “Why do good folks let it go on?”

And Arvilly sez, “Heaven knows––I don’t. But I’ve cleared my skirts in the matter. There won’t be any innocent blood on my skirts at the last day.”

And Tommy bent his head and looked intently at the bottom of her dress; and I see my pardner furtively glance at the bottom of his own pantaloons; he acted guilty.

It is about two milds and a quarter round the city; the walls are thirty or forty feet high; there are thirty-four towers on the walls, and the city has eight gates. It has a population of one hundred thousand, more Jews than any other race; for according to the Scripture, jest as the Jews wuz scattered to the four winds of heaven, they have of late been flocking home to Jerusalem jest as the old prophets predicted exactly.

During their hours of prayer, many Jews wear phylactrys bound to their forwards and arms, and Robert Strong said he saw one nailed to a doorpost.

It is a long, narrer case, shaped some like a thermometer, with a round hole towards the top of it covered with a lid which they can lift up and see a few words of the ancient parchment inside, some as the little boy had his prayer printed on the head-board, and on cold nights would pint to it, sayin’, “O Lord, them’s my sentiments.”

But these Jews did it to carry out Moses’ command to bind the words of the law for a sign on their arms, their heads and their doorposts.

The writing on these phylactrys is so perfect that you 286 can hardly believe that it is done with a pen. The Jews are extremely careful in copying the oracles of God. They still write copies of their Old Testament Scriptures, and every page must have jest so many lines, and jest the same number of words and letters.

Robert Strong said that this was a great proof of the truth of the Scriptures. Sez he: “Our Saviour said that one jot or tittle of the law shall not fail.”

Tommy wanted to know what that meant, and Robert told him that “jot” wuz the smallest letter in the Hebrew alphabet, and “tittle” meant the little horn-shaped mark over some of the letters.

And I sez: “I never knew what that meant before.” But Miss Meechim said she did––she always duz know everything from the beginning, specially after she’s hearn some one explain it. But to resoom: We went to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where many different religious sects come to worship. The place where many think the body of our Lord wuz lain when he wuz taken down from the cross is covered with a slab worn down by the worshippers, and in the little chapel round it forty-three lamps are kep’ burning night and day.

But I felt more inclined to think that the place where the body of our Lord wuz lain wuz outside the city where the rocky hill forms a strange resemblance to a human skull, answering to the Bible description. Near there a tomb, long buried, has been found lately that corresponds with the Bible record, which sez: “Now in the garden was a new tomb wherin no man had been lain.” There wuz places in this tomb for three bodies, but only one had been finished, and scientists say that no body has ever crumbled into the dust that covers this tomb. Ruins show that ages back an arched temple once covered this spot. But what matters the very spot where his body lay, or from where he ascended into the heavens. Mebby it can’t be told for certain after all these years; but we know that his weary feet trod these 287 dusty roads. And as we travelled to Bethlehem and Bethany and Nazareth, his presence seemed to go before us.

It wuz a lovely morning when we left Jerusalem by the Jaffa gate and went down acrost the valley of Hinnom, up acrost the hill of Evil Council, and acrost the broad plain where David fought many a battle and Solomon went about in all his glory.

We stopped a few minutes at the convent of Mar Elias to see the fine view. From here you can see both places where the Saviour wuz born and where he died. It is a very sightly spot, and I hearn Josiah tell Tommy:

“This is a beautiful place, Tommy; it wuz named after Miss Elias; her children built it to honor their Mar; and it ort to make you think, Tommy, that you must always mind your Mar.”

“Mar?” sez Tommy inquirin’ly, “Do you mean my mamma or my grandma?”

I wuz glad the rest of the party wuz some distance away and didn’t hear him. Josiah always jest crowds his explanations, full and runnin’ over with morals, but he gits things wrong. I hated to hurt his feelin’s, but I had to tell Tommy this wuz named, I spozed, from the prophet Elijah, who wuz, they say, helped by angels on this very spot as he flowed away from Jezabel; they gin him water and food, such good food that after eating it he could travel forty days and forty nights without eating agin.

Jezabel wuzn’t a likely woman at all; I wouldn’t been willin’ to neighbor with her.

Rachel’s tomb is a little furder on. It is a long, rough-lookin’ structure with a round ruff on the highest end on’t. Christian, Jew and Moslem all agree that this is Rachel’s tomb. It wuz right here that little Benoni wuz born and his ma named him while her soul wuz departing, for she died.

I heard Josiah talkin’ with Tommy about “little Ben.” I hated to have him call him so, but didn’t know as it would do much hurt this late day. Right about here dwelt Ruth 288 and Naomi. A sweet girl Ruth wuz; I always thought she wuz plenty good enough for Boaz, but then I d’no but he wuz good enough for her. ’Tennyrate, her actions wuz a perfect pattern to daughter-in-laws.

Here on these sands the giant, Goliath, strode out pompously to be slain by a stun from a sling sent by David when he wuz a shepherd boy. “How I wished I had some of them stuns to slay the evil giants of 1900,” sez I. “If a stun could be aimed at Intemperance and another at the big monopolies and destroy’em as dead as Goliath, what a boon it would be.”

And Arvilly sez, “Where will you git your sling, and where will you git your Davids?”

Sez I, “The ballot is a good sling that could kill’em both stun dead, but I d’no where I could git any Davids at present,” and she didn’t nor Josiah, but I felt in hopes that there would be one riz up, for always when the occasion demands, the Lord sends the right man to fill the place.

Well, presently we arrov at Bethlehem (House of Bread). I mentioned its meaning, and Josiah sez:

“I do hope I’ll get some yeast risin’ here that will taste a little like yourn, Samantha.”

So little did he dwell on the divine meanin’ that wuz thrillin’ my heart. House of Bread, sacred spot from which proceeded the living bread, that if any one should eat he should never more hunger.

The Church of the Nativity, the place that we sought first in the village, is the oldest Christian church in the world. It wuz built by Helena, mother of Constantine, 330 A.D. It is owned by a good many different sects who quarrel quite considerable over it, as they would be likely to in Jonesville if our M. E. church wuz owned too by Baptists and Piscopalians, etc.

We spoze this church wuz built on the site of the tarven where our Lord wuz born. Goin’ down the windin’ staircase we come to the Grotto of the Nativity, which is a cave in the rock. There are several holy chapels here, but this one 289 where they say Christ wuz born is about thirty-eight feet long and ten or eleven feet wide, and covered inside with costly carving and sculpture. A star in the floor shows the place where the manger wuz where the Holy Child wuz born, a silver star glitters above it and around the star sixteen lights are burning night and day. All about here the caves in the rocks are used as stables, specially when the tarvens are full, as the Bible expressly states they wuz the night our Lord wuz born. ’Tennyrate, way back almost to the time He wuz born, historians accepted this spot as the place of His birth. But as I said more formerly, what if it wuz not this very spot, or some other nigh by, we know that it wuz in this little city our Lord wuz born. It wuz of this city that centuries before the prophets said: “And thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little amongst the thousands of Judea, yet out of thee shall he come forth that shall be ruler of Israel, whose goings forth has been from old everlasting.”

Then and there wuz founded on earth that invisible and spiritual kingdom so much stronger and mightier than any visible kingdom that wuz ever thought on. The gorgeous throne of Herod and the long line of kings and emperors since him have crumbled into dust, but that lowly cradle in the stable of Bethlehem is onmoved. The winds and storms of eighteen hundred years have not been able to blow a straw away from that little bed where the Baby Christ lay. The crowns of kings and emperors have disappeared, covered by the dust of time, but the rays of light that shone round that Baby’s brow grow brighter and brighter as the centuries sweep by. The deepest love, the strongest emotions of the hearts of an uncounted host keep that Bethlehem birthplace green and changeless. The Herods, the Pilates, the Cæsars are dead and buried under the driftin’ centuries, but our Lord’s throne stands more firm and powerful to-day than ever before. Hatred, malice, the cross of agony, the dark tomb could not touch that immortal life. Great monarch and tender, overturnin’ and upbuildin’ empires at will, 290 blowing away cruel and unjust armies by a wave of his fingers, helping the poor slave bear his heavy burden by pouring love into his heart, wiping the widow’s tears, soothing the baby’s cries, marking even the sparrow’s fall.

Oh, what a kingdom! foretold by ages, begun on earth in that little rocky stable that December night in Bethlehem. And it is secure; it cannot be moved, its white pillers are enthroned in the secret chambers of the soul.

And how strong and changeless his prime ministers, Love, Justice and Mercy, are, who carry his messages and do his will. How quiet and peaceable and yet how strong, makin’ no fuss and show; but what majesty is writ down on their forwards as they mirror the will of their Master. How firm they stand, jest as they’ve stood for ages; no wobblin’, no turnin’ this way and that to git adherents and followers. No, calm and mighty and holy they stand before that sacred throne jest as they did at Jerusalem before Herod and Pilate.

Oh, how many emotions I did have as I stood in that sacred spot, twice as many at least as I ever had in the same length of time