Two of the most learned and esteemed of the Jews, Matthias and Judas by name, burned with an ardent desire to emulate their pious ancestors, and purify the city and temple of their God from heathen profanation. Gradually they gathered around them many young and ardent spirits, whom they incited to vindicate, by some gallant deed, the honour of their religion.
Herod, with great disregard for the feelings of the nation whom he governed, had put up the figure of a golden eagle, the emblem of Roman power, over the great gate of the temple. Many a fierce and angry glance had been raised by the Jewish worshippers towards this abhorred image, and the boldest amongst them at length resolved to tear down the insulting emblem. Judas and Matthias stirred up their followers to the daring attempt, reminding them how glorious a thing it was to face danger, and even to die for the laws of their beloved country.
A party of resolute young men, in the face of day, and in the presence of a number of the people, let themselves down by thick cords from the top of the temple, and with axes cut away the golden eagle. But the power of the dying Herod was not with impunity to be defied. A party of soldiers hastened to the temple, and about forty of the young Jews were seized, and brought into the presence of the king.
Herod demanded of them whether they had indeed been so daring as to cut down the eagle from the temple; and they frankly confessed that they had done so.
“At whose command?” asked the tyrant.
“At the command of the laws of our country,” was the young Jews’ intrepid reply.
They were in the hands of one to whom mercy was a stranger. Not only the immediate actors in the daring deed, but the teachers who had incited them to it, were burned alive by the order of Herod.
The king’s sufferings now became so intolerable, that he made a desperate attempt to end them by his own hand. One day, in the extremity of his agony, he tried to stab himself with a knife, but was prevented by a relative, who saw his design, and rushed forward in time to defeat it.
Five days before Herod expired, his son Antipater, who had conspired against him, was slain by the command of his merciless father. As the gloomy tyrant’s end drew near, his savage nature showed itself in yet more revolting colours. He seized upon the most illustrious men of the Jewish nation, and then confined them in a place called the Hippodrome. Herod then sent for his sister Salome and her husband, and crowned all his other acts of wickedness, by giving them the following atrocious order:—
“I know well,” said the dying tyrant, “that the Jews will keep a festival upon my death. However, it is in my power to be mourned for on other accounts. Do you have a care to send soldiers to encompass those men that are now in ward, and slay them immediately upon my death, and then all Judea and every family of them will weep at it, whether they will or no!”