Naomi

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

"You shall take her some more, my dear boy," said Salome: "I fear she suffers much distress and want Would to God that I could relieve her."

The grateful happy child received the gift with joy, and calling his nurse, hurried back to share the unusual luxury with his mother. Mary was indeed reduced to a degree of privation and want, which her delicate and luxurious mode of life had made her quite unequal to bear with fortitude or patience. Her temper was naturally irritable and uncontrolled, and now anxiety, and fear, and distress had made her still more the slave of passion. She sat gloomy and distracted in her chamber, when her lovely boy ran towards her with childish glee, and presented his welcome offering. Mary snatched the fruit and eat it hastily. She did not look pleased, as David had expected, but she gazed wildly at him, and burst into tears.

"Why do you weep, mother?" asked the child. "I thought that you would smile and thank me, as I thanked the good Salome."

"I weep because my heart is sad," replied Mary. "The heiress of Bethezob is reduced to beggary, and her child is fed by the charity of others. O my father, if thou hadst foreseen the sufferings of thy daughter, it would have broken thy heart, which lived but in me, and the hope of my happiness. Alas! the spoiler has taken all the wealth which thou didst bequeath to me. My friends have forsaken me, my domestics despise and rob me, and I am desolate and miserable."

It was too true. Mary had lived in dissipation; and those who gladly frequented her house when they found splendour and profusion there, abandoned her when she had no longer the means of entertaining them. She had neglected the friendship of Zadok and his family; and though her child spent much of his time with them, she had seldom crossed their threshold since she had ceased to be an inmate of their house. Now that she was in distress, pride withheld her from seeking their society; and though she received from them almost all her means of subsistence, it was with a sullen and ungracious spirit. It was from the vengeance of Isaac, and the treachery of her servant Reuben, that she had suffered the loss of almost all her property. She confided blindly in the supposed integrity of Reuben, and he knew where she had concealed the most valuable of her possessions. He failed not to inform his employer Isaac of what was told to him in confidence, and ere long a band of Zealots entered and pillaged the house. It was a part of their orders to carry off the lady of Bethezob to the head-quarters of their party in the temple; but she succeeded in eluding their search, and remained free, but deprived of all that might avail to procure the necessaries of life as the scarcity and famine increased. A measure of wheat was now worth far more than its weight in gold, and the vilest rubbish was eagerly purchased at a high price by those who still had money in their possession. All the grass and herbs that could be found in the city were used as food by those who were destitute of any other means of subsistence; and many of the poorest of the people would steal out, and wander by night down the ravines, in the hope of picking up something to allay the torments of hunger. These wretched creatures would willingly have fled, and deserted to the Romans: but they hesitated to forsake their wives and children, who were sure to be cruelly murdered as soon as it was known that their husbands and fathers had left the city. Titus discovered the practice of these men, and set an ambush to surprise and take them prisoners. When they were attacked they made a vigorous resistance, but they were overpowered and carried to the camp.

For the crime of defending themselves, they were barbarously scourged and tortured, and then hung up before the walls writhing in the agony of crucifixion. Again and again others were driven by despair and famine to make the same attempt at obtaining relief, and the same dreadful fate awaited them. When morning dawned upon that ill-fated city, it often displayed to the view of the horror-stricken inhabitants as many as five hundred crosses, each supporting a tortured victim. The Roman soldiers added ridicule and insult to their cruelty, and fastened the bodies in every sort of ludicrous position, taunting and reviling the miserable beings while they expired in agony. The spots chosen for these appalling scenes were at length crowded with crosses, and wood was wanting to furnish fresh implements of torture for the prisoners who were nightly brought in. Nothing can be said to extenuate the guilt and inhumanity of these executions. They were a fearful example of heathen barbarity in the most civilized nation of that period, and by the command of one of her most enlightened generals. Titus believed that by these awful and repeated warnings he should weary the people of resistance, and convince them that it was better to throw themselves openly on his mercy; and he also feared that it would be unsafe to let them escape. In vain Marcellus pleaded with his noble commander, and besought him almost with tears of agony, to forbear this wanton infliction of death and torment. His expostulations moved the general to sympathy, but failed to make him change his cruel policy.

The effect produced on the besieged by these executions was contrary to that which Titus expected. The Zealots seized on the friends and relatives of the victims and dragging them to the walls and towers, compelled them to behold the dreadful spectacle of Roman cruelty. This checked the desertions; and none fled to the camp of the besiegers but those who preferred running the risk of immediate death rather than remaining to suffer the slower torments of hunger. Some of these were sent back into the city by Titus with their hands cut off and a message to John and Simon, exhorting them to capitulate before it was too late, and not force him to destroy both the city and the temple.

Instead of complying with this advice, John commenced undermining the embankments on which the Roman engines were placed. He carried a quantity of combustibles to the spot; and when all the machines were erected and ready to begin their attack, he set fire to the pitch and sulphur, and immediately the ground began to rock and heave as with an earthquake. Volumes of smoke and flame issued from the ground, and the embankment, with all the ponderous engines, fell into the fiery abyss. Thus the works which had cost the Romans seventeen days of constant labour were destroyed in an hour. The army were greatly discouraged at this and other losses which were effected by the desperate valour of the Jews. Titus called a council of his officers, and proposed to them that they should either storm the city immediately, repair the works and resume the siege, or else draw a complete line of circumvallation round it, and starve the garrison to surrender. The last of these plans was decided on, and immediately executed. In three days the trench and embankment were completed, and extended a distance little less than five miles.

Naomi could watch the progress of this work along the Valley of Kedron and the Mount of Olives, and with the sad reality before her eyes she remembered how the pitying Jesus had declared that "the days should come when the enemies of Jerusalem should cast a trench about her, and keep her in on every side;" and she looked for the speedy accomplishment of the remaining part of the denunciation, "and they shall lay thee even with the dust, and thy children within thee, because thou knowest not the time of thy visitation."

Salome had ceased to occupy her usual position on the terrace. Her weakness had greatly increased, and she had received a shock to her feelings the last time she had been carried out, which had almost overpowered her. She had desired to enjoy the early morning air, and watch the sun rising gloriously over the Mount of Olives, and she was borne as usual to her couch. But what was her horror on looking towards the mount, to behold the summit crowned with crosses, and to perceive that each cross was furnished with a living victim! A deadly faintness overcame her, and she was carried back to her chamber in a state of unconsciousness. When she recovered, the impression of the dreadful spectacle clung to her mind, and she could not shake it off for several days. Her weakness and exhaustion were considerably augmented by the shock, and it was evident to Naomi and her father that the beloved sufferer had not long to live.