by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER V
Ben-Hur pitched two tents out on the Upper Cedron east a short spaceof the Tombs of the Kings, and furnished them with every comfortat his command; and thither, without loss of time, he conductedhis mother and sister, to remain until the examining priest couldcertify their perfect cleansing.
In course of the duty, the young man had subjected himself tosuch serious defilement as to debar him from participation inthe ceremonies of the great feast, then near at hand. He could notenter the least sacred of the courts of the Temple. Of necessity,not less than choice, therefore, he stayed at the tents with hisbeloved people. There was a great deal to hear from them, and agreat deal to tell them of himself.
Stories such as theirs--sad experiences extending through a lapseof years, sufferings of body, acuter sufferings of mind--are usuallylong in the telling, the incidents seldom following each other inthreaded connection. He listened to the narrative and all theytold him, with outward patience masking inward feeling. In fact,his hatred of Rome and Romans reached a higher mark than ever; hisdesire for vengeance became a thirst which attempts at reflectiononly intensified. In the almost savage bitterness of his humor manymad impulses took hold of him. The opportunities of the highwayspresented themselves with singular force of temptation; he thoughtseriously of insurrection in Galilee; even the sea, ordinarily aretrospective horror to him, stretched itself map-like before hisfancy, laced and interlaced with lines of passage crowded withimperial plunder and imperial travellers; but the better judgmentmatured in calmer hours was happily too firmly fixed to be supplantedby present passion however strong. Each mental venture in reach of newexpedients brought him back to the old conclusion--that there could beno sound success except in a war involving all Israel in solid union;and all musing upon the subject, all inquiry, all hope, ended wherethey began--in the Nazarene and his purposes.
At odd moments the excited schemer found a pleasure in fashioninga speech for that person:
"Hear, O Israel! I am he, the promised of God, born King of theJews--come to you with the dominion spoken of by the prophets.Rise now, and lay hold on the world!"
Would the Nazarene but speak these few words, what a tumult wouldfollow! How many mouths performing the office of trumpets wouldtake them up and blow them abroad for the massing of armies!
Would he speak them?
And eager to begin the work, and answering in the worldly way,Ben-Hur lost sight of the double nature of the man, and of theother possibility, that the divine in him might transcend the human.In the miracle of which Tirzah and his mother were the witnesseseven more nearly than himself, he saw and set apart and dwelt upona power ample enough to raise and support a Jewish crown over thewrecks of the Italian, and more than ample to remodel society, andconvert mankind into one purified happy family; and when that workwas done, could any one say the peace which might then be orderedwithout hindrance was not a mission worthy a son of God? Could anyone then deny the Redeemership of the Christ? And discarding allconsideration of political consequences, what unspeakable personalglory there would then be to him as a man? It was not in the natureof any mere mortal to refuse such a career.
Meantime down the Cedron, and in towards Bezetha, especially onthe roadsides quite up to the Damascus Gate, the country filledrapidly with all kinds of temporary shelters for pilgrims to thePassover. Ben-Hur visited the strangers, and talked with them; andreturning to his tents, he was each time more and more astonishedat the vastness of their numbers. And when he further discoveredthat every part of the world was represented among them--citiesupon both shores of the Mediterranean far off as the Pillars ofthe West, river-towns in distant India, provinces in northernmostEurope; and that, though they frequently saluted him with tonguesunacquainted with a syllable of the old Hebrew of the fathers,these representatives had all the same object--celebration ofthe notable feast--an idea tinged mistily with superstitious fancyforced itself upon him. Might he not after all have misunderstoodthe Nazarene? Might not that person by patient waiting be coveringsilent preparation, and proving his fitness for the glorioustask before him? How much better this time for the movement thanthat other when, by Gennesaret, the Galileans would have forcedassumption of the crown? Then the support would have been limitedto a few thousands; now his proclamation would be responded toby millions--who could say how many? Pursuing this theory to itsconclusions, Ben-Hur moved amidst brilliant promises, and glowedwith the thought that the melancholy man, under gentle seemingand wondrous self-denial, was in fact carrying in disguise thesubtlety of a politician and the genius of a soldier.
Several times also, in the meanwhile, low-set, brawny men,bareheaded and black-bearded, came and asked for Ben-Hur atthe tent; his interviews with them were always apart; and tohis mother's question who they were he answered,
"Some good friends of mine from Galilee."
Through them he kept informed of the movements of the Nazarene,and of the schemes of the Nazarene's enemies, Rabbinical and Roman.That the good man's life was in danger, he knew; but that therewere any bold enough to attempt to take it at that time, he couldnot believe. It seemed too securely intrenched in a great fameand an assured popularity. The very vastness of the attendance inand about the city brought with it a seeming guaranty of safety.And yet, to say truth, Ben-Hur's confidence rested most certainlyupon the miraculous power of the Christ. Pondering the subject inthe purely human view, that the master of such authority over lifeand death, used so frequently for the good of others, would notexert it in care of himself was simply as much past belief as itwas past understanding.
Nor should it be forgotten that all these were incidents ofoccurrence between the twenty-first day of March--countingby the modern calendar--and the twenty-fifth. The evening ofthe latter day Ben-Hur yielded to his impatience, and rode tothe city, leaving behind him a promise to return in the night.
The horse was fresh, and choosing his own gait, sped swiftly.The eyes of the clambering vines winked at the rider from thegarden fences on the way; there was nothing else to see him,nor child nor woman nor man. Through the rocky float in thehollows of the road the agate hoofs drummed, ringing like cupsof steel; but without notice from any stranger. In the housespassed there were no tenants; the fires by the tent-doors wereout; the road was deserted; for this was the first Passover eve,and the hour "between the evenings" when the visiting millionscrowded the city, and the slaughter of lambs in offering reekedthe fore-courts of the Temple, and the priests in ordered linescaught the flowing blood and carried it swiftly to the drippingaltars--when all was haste and hurry, racing with the stars fastcoming with the signal after which the roasting and the eating andthe singing might go on, but not the preparation more.
Through the great northern gate the rider rode, and lo! Jerusalembefore the fall, in ripeness of glory, illuminated for the Lord.