Praise Jehovah, all his works,
In all places of his dominion!
Praise Jehovah, O my soul!—Ps. ciii.
At evening he returned to the cell of the old man. A calm peace had overspread his mind, to which he had long been a stranger. He no longer prided himself in his imaginary self-righteousness, but he felt the satisfactory assurance that his “transgression was forgiven, that his iniquity was pardoned;” and in the midst of his gratitude to Jehovah, he did not forget the filial effusion of thankfulness towards the venerable man, whose counsels had taught him how to seek rest to his soul.
CHAPTER VI.
THE FEAST OF TABERNACLES.
The Feast of Trumpets, on the first day of the month Tisri, had been the beginning of a series of solemnities crowned by the Feast of Tabernacles, which began on the fifteenth and lasted till the twenty-second day. While some of the people of Israel were gathering in the latest gifts of the earth, and others preparing for the pilgrimage to Jerusalem; while some, who were compelled to remain at home, were beginning to dress their green bowers, and the inhabitants of Jerusalem to collect branches from the adjacent country, to decorate their tabernacles in the vallies around the city; Helon returned to his friends in the house of Iddo. He said nothing of what had passed, but they all perceived immediately that he was become a new man. He embraced Sulamith with a pure affection, and a humbled consciousness of his past injustice; his manner towards all around was full of mild benevolence. There was none of the outward warmth and vehemence of manner which he had exhibited before, yet his mind was full of activity and joy. The calm composure of his whole demeanour was that of a man to whom the mysteries of life are solved, and who feels that omnipotent love defends and guides him through time and eternity. His thoughts and desires seemed all directed towards an invisible, eternal, future good; and yet never had his heart been more open to all the joys of nature, or more susceptible to the tenderest feelings of human affection. Sulamith had never loved him so much, nor ever been so beloved by him. The true happiness of her married life now began; all that had passed was in the strictest sense forgotten. She bloomed again, in more than her former beauty, like the rose of Jericho, when the morning sun drinks from its fragrant leaves the heavy dew which had weighed them down.
On the thirteenth day of the month Tisri, the companies of pilgrims began to arrive from every side. The native of Lebanon, the inhabitant of Beersheba, of Peræa, and Galilee, those that dwell on the seashore, and the stranger from Syria, Asia Minor, Cyprus, and Lybia, after their toilsome journies, greeted the temple and city of their God. From the roof of Iddo’s house, Helon and Sulamith looked down on the festal throng.
The sight which they witnessed on the following day, the day of the preparation for [the festival], was peculiar to the precincts of Jerusalem. The courts of the temple, all the roofs of the houses, the mount of Olives, as far as its highest pinnacle, the valley of the Kedron, and the whole environs of the city were covered with a sudden verdure. The gardens and fields had already assumed the yellow hue of autumn, but the palms, the firs, the myrtles, and the pomegranates had been compelled to yield their more durable foliage for this occasion. The whole neighbourhood was parched by the heat of the sun, and the vineyards had been already stripped, but at once spring and summer appeared to return with all their variety of colours. The busy hands of men and women were every where in full activity, the children waited on the builders, and, as if by magic, Jerusalem seemed all at once filled and encircled by an encampment of green bowers, a lively and refreshing contrast to the mournful barrenness of the hills which were in the distance of the picture.
By the evening all was ready. The citrons and apples of Paradise glowed amidst the dark green of the bowers, their walls were hung with tapestry and their floors covered with carpets, and the large lamp burnt in the middle. When the evening star appeared in heaven above the western sea, every family, after the customary ablutions, left its dwelling to occupy its tabernacle. Iddo had resigned his house to strangers, and had erected himself a tabernacle in a vineyard on the mount of Olives, to which he and the family of Selumiel repaired, and placed themselves around the richly furnished table. He prayed, “Blessed be thou, O Lord our God, thou king of the earth, who hast sanctified us by thy precepts and commanded us to dwell in tabernacles.” He then emptied the cup, the rest followed his example; and the same thing was done almost at the same instant in the surrounding tabernacles. The thousands of lamps in the bowers on the mount of Olives, in the vale of Kedron, and on the roofs of the houses in the city, seemed like stars of the earth, answering to those by which the heavens were already overspread. A gentle wind just stirred the leaves of the bowers, and the sounds of festivity and mutual congratulation echoed on every side, amidst songs and the music of cymbals and aduffes. Well may they rejoice whose sins are removed: if the people afflicted themselves before the atonement was made, it was natural that after it they should indulge in the mirth of the Feast of Tabernacles.
Towards midnight the lamps were gradually extinguished, and all was silent in the tabernacles. The women, the children, and the weakly persons returned to their houses, and the men laid themselves down to rest on the floor. But scarcely had the first beams of morning reddened the summits of the Arabian hills, when they all left their bowers to fill the courts of the temple. The usual ceremonies of extinguishing the lamps, killing the lamb, burning incense in the holy place, and offering the morning-sacrifice, were first gone through. The eight priests then ranged themselves on the sloping ascent of the altar, each with that part of the sacrificial instruments which was intrusted to his care, the last being he who bore the golden vessel with the wine of the drink-offering. At once all the instruments of music struck up together, the Water-gate was opened, and through its lofty folding-doors a priest entered with a golden ewer full of water which he had drawn from [the spring of Siloah], whose softly flowing stream runs at the south-eastern foot of mount Moriah. All was silent, except the sound of the silver trumpets. The people made a wide opening for the priest, who approached the altar of burnt-offering and was met by him who bore the vessel of wine. As soon as they saw each other they both exclaimed, “With joy we draw water from the wells of salvation;”[[162]] and the people around repeated, “With joy we draw water from the wells of salvation.” The priest who had descended from the altar then took from the other the ewer of water, and mingled it with the wine. The Hallel was sung in the mean time by the Levites, the people who filled the courts holding a citron in the one hand and a bundle of palm, willow, and citron branches in the other.