The Prince of the House of David. J. H. Ingraham

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The Prince of the House of David - J. H. Ingraham

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the prophet had ended his second discourse, and baptized full two hundred more in the sparkling waters of Jordan," resumed the eloquent cousin of Mary, "he sent them away to the city to lodge and buy meat; for few, in their eagerness to hear him, had brought provisions with them. Many, before leaving him, drew near to receive his blessing of love, and it was touching to see venerable men, with locks shining like silver, and leaning upon the staff, bend their aged heads before the youthful Elias, as if in acknowledgment of his divine commission. Mothers also brought their infants, that he might bless them; and youths and maidens knelt reverently at his feet in tears of love and penitence. Calmly he stood upon the green shores, like an angel alighted upon earth, and blessed them in words all new to our ears, but which thrilled to our hearts with some secret power that agitated us with trembling joy.

      "'In the name of the Lamb of God I bless thee!'

      "'What can be the meaning of these words?' asked Mary, with her gentle earnestness. Her betrothed could only reply that he knew not.

      "At length, one after another, the multitude departed, save a few who encamped beneath trees on the banks of the river. Joseph of Arimathea and I were left almost alone standing near the prophet, and regarding him with reverential curiosity. The sun was just disappearing over the distant towers of Jericho, and painting with the richest purple the hills between the river and Jerusalem. Jordan, catching its reddening radiance, rolled past like a river of liquid gold embanked in emerald. The brow of the prophet, lighted up by a sun-ray that shone between the branches of a pomegranate tree, seemed like the face of Moses when he came down from Sinai, a glory of light. He appeared rapt in heavenly meditation, and we stood silent and gazed upon him, not daring to speak. At length he turned towards us, smiled, and, saluting us, grasped the crook or staff on which he had been leaning—for he was weary and pale with his labors of the day—and slowly walked down the shore in the direction of the wilderness. He had not advanced many steps when I felt an irresistible impulse to follow him. I therefore said to my companion:

      "'Let us follow him, and learn more of these great things which we have this day heard.'

      "We proceeded slowly after him, as he moved in a contemplative mood along the desert path. The sun had already gone down, and the full moon rose on the opposite shore, and the prophet stopped as if to gaze upon its autumnal beauty. We drew near to him. He beheld us, but did not avoid us; seeing which, I advanced with timid confidence, and said:

      "'Holy prophet of the Most High God, wilt thou permit two young men of Israel to speak to thee? for our hearts yearn towards thee with love. And chiefly would we inquire of thee touching the advent of the mighty Personage whose near coming thou dost foretell?'

      "'Friends,' said the prophet, in a calm and serene manner, 'I am a dweller in the desert, and alone, from choice. I approach men only to proclaim my message. The delights of earth are not for me. My mission is one. Its duration is short. Its aim worthy the greatest prophet of God, yet am I, the least of them, not worthy to be called a prophet; and before the splendor of him whom I announce to the world, I am the dust of the balance. If thou hast sought me to search after knowledge, come and sit down with me upon this rock, and let me hear what thou hast to ask of me, that I may answer thee and go my way.'

      "This was said softly, gently, almost sadly, and in a tone that made me love him more and more. I could have cast myself upon his bosom and wept there. We seated ourselves, one on either side of him. The scene and the hour were well fitted for such a converse as we were about to hold. The broad disc of the moon poured a flood of orange-tinted radiance full upon us, and lent a hallowed softness to the divine countenance of the youthful prophet. The Jordan, dark as India's dye, darted swiftly past at our feet, between its deeply-shaded banks, sending up to our ears the faintest murmur of its pebbly passage. Above our heads swelled the vaulted arch of the Temple of Jehovah, with its myriad of altar fires. Behind us stretched the desert waste, cheerless and yet grand in its desolate distances.

      "Afar off rose upon the air, and was borne to us at intervals, the voice of a singer in one of the camps; and near us, upon an acacia tree, sat a solitary bulbul, which ceaselessly sang its sweet and varied hymn to the listening moon.

      "'All things praise God; shall we be silent?' said the prophet. 'Let us sing the evening hymn of the Temple.' He then commenced, in a rich, melodious chant, such as I have never heard from the priests, our sacred psalm to the whole creation of God. We joined our voices with his, and the tide of praise floated over the waters, and echoed and re-echoed from the opposing shores, as if the banks and stream, trees, hills and sky had found voice as well as we:

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