She caught his feeling, and, with ready wit, wove it into her speech.

“Very well, my son. If you can hear the timbrel of the prophetess, you can do what I was about to ask you; you can use your fancy, and stand with me, as if by the wayside, while the chosen of Israel pass us at the head of the procession. Now they come- the patriarchs first; next the fathers of the tribes. I almost hear the bells of their camels and the lowing of their herds. Who is he that walks alone between the companies? An old man, yet his eye is not dim, nor his natural force abated. He knew the Lord face to face! Warrior, poet, orator, lawgiver, prophet, his greatness is as the sun at morning, its flood of splendour quenching all other lights, even that of the first and noblest of the Caesars. After him the judges. And then the kings- the son of Jesse, a hero in war, and a singer of songs eternal as that of the sea; and his son, who, passing all other kings in riches and wisdom, and while making the Desert habitable, and in its waste places planting cities, forgot not Jerusalem which the Lord had chosen for his seat on earth. Bend lower, my son! These that come next are the first of their kind, and the last. Their faces are raised, as if they heard a voice in the sky and were listening. Their lives were full of sorrows. Their garments smell of tombs and caverns. Hearken to a woman among them!- ‘Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously!’ Nay, put your forehead in the dust before them! They were tongues of God, his servants, who looked through heaven, and, seeing all the future, wrote what they saw, and left the writing to be proven by time. Kings turned pale as they approached them and nations trembled at the sound of their voices. The clements waited upon them. In their hands they carried every bounty and every plague. See the Tishbite and his servant Elisha! See the sad son of Hilkiah, and him, the seer of visions, by the river of Chebar! And of the three children of Judah who refused the image of the Babylonian, lo! that one who, in the feast to the thousand lords, so confounded the astrologers. And yonder- O my son, kiss the dust again!- yonder the gentle son of Amoz, from whom the world has its promise of the Messiah to come!”

In this passage the fan had been kept in rapid play; it stopped now, and her voice sank low.

“You are tired,” she said.

“No,” he replied, “I was listening to a new song of Israel.”

The mother was still intent upon her purpose, and passed the pleasant speech.

“In such light as I could, my Judah, I have set our great men before you- patriarchs, legislators, warriors, singers, prophets. Turn we to the best of Rome. Against Moses place Caesar, and Tarquin against David; Sylla against either of the Maccabees; the best of the consuls against the Judges; Augustus against Solomon, and you are done: comparison ends there. But think then of the prophets- greatest of the great.”