Though Jerusalem was almost wild with joy—and, indeed, so utterly had the Greek army disappeared that deliverance was complete for the time—Judas’s heart was full of sad forebodings. Demetrius, he knew, had a steadfastness of purpose which augured ill for the future. He was not a madman like Epiphanes, nor a child like Eupator; but a cool-headed, resolute man, who had seen something of the world, and would carry out his plans with both perseverance and skill. Would he sit down under the defeats which he had received and recognize Jewish independence? Judas thought it unlikely. The vengeance might be laid aside, but it would be sure to come. Could he hope to repeat these victories again and again? Once before he had been reduced to the greatest straits, and had only escaped by an unexpected change in the purpose of the young Antiochus. Could he look for anything so marvel[pg 353]lous again? Only one plan appeared to him to be possible, and he lost no time in calling a council of his principal followers and announcing it to them. It was certain, he told them, that there would be another war, and a war that would last for years, if only the Jewish people could hold out so long. “We warriors may endure it, and if the worst come to the worst, we can but fall on the field of battle. But what of the old and the weak? What of the women and children? And then we are not united. Our foes are of our own household. We have to fight not only against the Greek, but against the Jew also. And even in this assembly there are some,” he went on, with an emphasis which could not be mistaken, “who speak evil of me behind my back. What, then, shall we do? Speak, any one who has counsel to give.”
The appeal was met with silence, and the speaker continued, “You have nothing to advise. Listen, therefore, to my counsel, and resist it not in haste because it seems strange. There is a nation that, rising from a beginning small as ours, has now made for itself a great dominion. They are stern to their enemies, but they are just and faithful to their friends. Like Israel in the earlier and better days, they have no king to rule them after his own pleasure, but an assembly that weighs every plan carefully and wisely. And in battle they cannot be resisted. Have you heard of such a people?”
One or two voices answered with the word “Rome.”
“You have said well,” he said; “it is of the Romans that I have been speaking. Let us make alliance with them. We shall be, as it were, an outpost for them against the King of Syria, against whom they have fought already, and, doubtless, will fight again. And they will be a protection to us. And with the Romans on our side, we need fear the Greeks no more.”
One or two of the council were in Judas’s secret. Others had guessed, more or less correctly, what he was intending, but on most the announcement of his intention fell like a thunderbolt. For a few moments there was the pause of intense astonishment. Then followed a burst of indignation, in which, of course, the Chasidim led the way.
“Say not,” cried one of their chief speakers, “the Romans are like to Israel because they have no king. Did not Samuel say to the people, when they fell away from their faith because of Nahash the Ammonite, and would have a king after the manner of the heathen round about, ‘The Lord your God is your King.’ And shall we, knowing that the Lord Jehovah is the King of the Jews, reject Him from reigning over us, and choose us for rulers an assembly of some three hundred idolaters. Will you set these men of sin to be lords over the City of God?”
“Nay,” replied Judas, “you speak unadvisedly and rashly. We shall have our own rulers. We shall worship after our own way. The Romans will help us in war; and we shall help them as we only can. Did not David make friendship and alliance with Hiram, King of Tyre, and did not Solomon, in whose reign was peace, make that friendship and alliance yet closer?”
The Chasidim replied, quoting the prophets and denunciations of the Egyptian alliance. “Even that accursed Rabshakeh,” they said, “spoke the truth, when he said that Pharaoh, King of Egypt, was a bruised reed which will go into a man’s hand and pierce it, if he lean upon it. So shall it be with thee, if thou lean upon Rome.”
The war of words raged long and furiously. The Chasidim had the best of the argument, but to the majority of the council the prospect of a settled peace was irresistibly alluring. And the influence of Judas, too, was overpowering. By a large majority it was decided to send to Rome, Eupolemus, the son of John, and Jason, the son of Eleazar,[27] envoys who had been selected for the mission by Judas himself.
When the resolution had been passed the council broke up, and the Chasidim dispersed with dark [pg 356]looks and saddened hearts. The next few days passed in uncertainty and gloom. No news had come from Antioch as to the movements or intentions of the King. But there was little doubt as to what he would do. Whatever they might try to believe in their secret hearts they could not but own that when the opportunity came Demetrius would deal them a blow into which he would put all his strength.