Thy rod and thy staff comfort me.
Thou preparest a table for me
In the presence of mine enemies;
Thou anointest my head with oil;
My cup runneth over
Surely goodness and mercy follow me all my life,
I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
This was the prayer with which the festive meal was usually hallowed in Israel. The guests helped themselves and enjoyed the feast. When the last dish was removed, Elisama began: “It is long since I repeated that beautiful psalm, with such a feeling of devotion as to-day. One might think that it had been written expressly for the feast on the evening before our departure for the Holy Land. '[Happy the people] that know the sound of the trumpet!'”
Helon’s kindling glance, thanked Elisama for thus expressing the sentiment of which his own heart was full. But one of the elders replied, “The sound of the trumpet is heard also in Leontopolis, and the psalm might be repeated with equal propriety, before a journey to the nome of Heliopolis.”
“I always maintain,” said Elisama, “that Israel is Israel nowhere but in the Holy Land.”