Thy shade upon thy right hand:
The sun shall not smite thee by day,
Nor the moon by night.
Jehovah shall preserve thee from all evil,
He shall preserve thy soul.
Jehovah preserveth thy going out and thy coming in,
From this time forth and for evermore.—Ps. cxxi.
It was a beautiful sight, when the procession came from the plain among the hills. The rocky walls, between which their path sometimes lay, re-echoed with their songs. Helon withdrew a little from the line, to an eminence which commanded a view in both directions, and could see the train, covering both the ascent and the descent of the hill, spreading over the plain, and winding like a wreath around the hill beyond.
In every town and village to which they came, they were received with shouts of joy. Before the doors of the houses stood tables with dates, honey, and bread. New crowds of persons, dressed in their holyday attire, were waiting at the junction of the roads, in the fields, and at the entrance of the towns, and joined themselves to the long procession. Here and there before the houses, in the fields or in the vineyards, stood an unclean person, or a woman, or a child, who had been compelled to remain at home, and who replied with tears to the salutation of the passing multitude. It seemed as if the people carried all joy with them from the country to Jerusalem, and only sorrow was left for those who remained behind. Before a house in [Bethshur], stood a fine boy of ten years old. Tears streamed from his large dark eyes, and the open features of his noble countenance had an expression of profound grief. His mother was endeavouring to comfort him, and to lead him back into the court, assuring him that his father would take him the next time. But the boy listened neither to her consolations nor her promises, and continued to exclaim, “O father, father, let me go to the temple! I know all the psalms by heart.” He stretched out his arms to the passers-by in earnest entreaty, and happening to see among them a man of the neighbourhood whom he knew, he flew to him, and clinging to his girdle and his upper garment, besought him with tears to take him with him, till the man, moved by his earnestness, asked his mother to allow him to go, promising to take care of him till he should find out his father.
“And this,” said Helon, “is the object of children’s longing in Israel; so early does the desire of keeping the festival display itself! Brought up in Palestine, he felt it would have been with him exactly as with the child.”[child.”]