CHAPTER V.
LILY WORK.
The room we now enter is a large one. It is close under the roof of a house in Finsbury. The man there at work pauses for a moment.
The room is a workshop. The man is a Jew—but what a Jew! He might have posed to an artist as a model, a type of the proudest Jewish monarch over Israel. Face, form, stature—not even Saul or David or Solomon could have excelled him.
The room held the finished workmanship of his hands for the three past years. And now, as he paused in his labour—a labour of love—for a moment, and drew his tall form erect, and lifted his face to the window above him, a light that was almost holy filled his eyes.
“God of our fathers,” he murmured, “God of the Holy Tent and of the Temple, instruct me; teach my fingers to do this great work.”
He let his hands fall with an almost sacred touch upon the chapiter he had been chasing. He wist not that his face shone with an unearthly light, as for a moment his lips moved in prayer. Then quietly reaching a thick old book from a shelf, he opened it at one of its earlier pages, and read aloud.
“And the Lord spake unto Moses, saying, See, I have called by name Bezaleel, the son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah: and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, in wisdom, and in understanding, and in knowledge, and in all manner of workmanship, to devise cunning works, to work in gold, and in silver, and in brass, and in cutting of stones, to set them, and in carving of timber, to work in all kinds of workmanship. And I, behold, I have given with him Aholiab, the son of Ahisamach, of the tribe of Dan: and in the hearts of all that are wise-hearted I have put wisdom, that they may make all that I have commanded thee: the tabernacle of the congregation, and the ark of the testimony, and the mercy-seat that is thereupon, and all the furniture of the tabernacle.”
The light—it was now almost a fire—deepened in his eyes. A rare, a rich, cadence filled his voice as he read the holy words. His fingers moved to the middle of the book. It easily opened at a certain place, as though it had been often used at that page. Again he read aloud:
“And the chapiters that were upon, the top of the pillars were of lily work, ... and the chapiters upon the two pillars had pomegranates also above, ... and the pomegranates were two hundred, in rows round about upon the other chapiter, ... and he set up the pillars in the porch of the temple: and he set up the right pillar, and called the name thereof Jachin (”He shall establish“); and he set up the left pillar, and called the name thereof Boaz (”In it is strength“). And on the top of the pillars was lily work: so was the work of the pillars finished.”
With a reverent touch the man closed the book, replaced it on the shelf, then, lifting his eyes again to where the cold, clear light streamed down through the great skylight in the ceiling, he murmured: