Ben Hur (38 page)

The manner was gentle and devout, and impressed Ben-Hur with a feeling
of awe; besides which the blessing included in the answering salutation
had been partly addressed to him, and while that part was being spoken,
the eyes of the aged guest, hollow yet luminous, rested upon his
face long enough to stir an emotion new and mysterious, and so
strong that he again and again during the repast scanned the much
wrinkled and bloodless face for its meaning; but always there was
the expression bland, placid, and trustful as a child's. A little
later he found that expression habitual.

"This is he, O Balthasar," said the sheik, laying his hand on
Ben-Hur's arm, "who will break bread with us this evening."

The Egyptian glanced at the young man, and looked again surprised
and doubting; seeing which the sheik continued, "I have promised
him my horses for trial to-morrow; and if all goes well, he will
drive them in the Circus."

Balthasar continued his gaze.

"He came well recommended," Ilderim pursued, much puzzled. "You
may know him as the son of Arrius, who was a noble Roman sailor,
though"—the sheik hesitated, then resumed, with a laugh—"though
he declares himself an Israelite of the tribe of Judah; and, by the
splendor of God, I believe that he tells me!"

Balthasar could no longer withhold explanation.

"To-day, O most generous sheik, my life was in peril, and would
have been lost had not a youth, the counterpart of this one—if,
indeed, he be not the very same—intervened when all others fled,
and saved me." Then he addressed Ben-Hur directly, "Art thou not
he?"

"I cannot answer so far," Ben-Hur replied, with modest deference.
"I am he who stopped the horses of the insolent Roman when they were
rushing upon thy camel at the Fountain of Castalia. Thy daughter left
a cup with me."

From the bosom of his tunic he produced the cup, and gave it to
Balthasar.

A glow lighted the faded countenance of the Egyptian.

"The Lord sent thee to me at the Fountain to-day," he said, in a
tremulous voice, stretching his hand towards Ben-Hur; "and he
sends thee to me now. I give him thanks; and praise him thou,
for of his favor I have wherewith to give thee great reward,
and I will. The cup is thine; keep it."

Ben-Hur took back the gift, and Balthasar, seeing the inquiry
upon Ilderim's face, related the occurrence at the Fountain.

"What!" said the sheik to Ben-Hur. "Thou saidst nothing of this
to me, when better recommendation thou couldst not have brought.
Am I not an Arab, and sheik of my tribe of tens of thousands? And
is not he my guest? And is it not in my guest-bond that the good
or evil thou dost him is good or evil done to me? Whither shouldst
thou go for reward but here? And whose the hand to give it but mine?"

His voice at the end of the speech rose to cutting shrillness.

"Good sheik, spare me, I pray. I came not for reward, great or
small; and that I may be acquitted of the thought, I say the
help I gave this excellent man would have been given as well
to thy humblest servant."

"But he is my friend, my guest—not my servant; and seest thou
not in the difference the favor of Fortune?" Then to Balthasar
the sheik subjoined, "Ah, by the splendor of God! I tell thee
again he is not a Roman."

With that he turned away, and gave attention to the servants,
whose preparations for the supper were about complete.

The reader who recollects the history of Balthasar as given by
himself at the meeting in the desert will understand the effect
of Ben-Hur's assertion of disinterestedness upon that worthy.
In his devotion to men there had been, it will be remembered,
no distinctions; while the redemption which had been promised him
in the way of reward—the redemption for which he was waiting—was
universal. To him, therefore, the assertion sounded somewhat like
an echo of himself. He took a step nearer Ben-Hur, and spoke to
him in the childlike way.

"How did the sheik say I should call you? It was a Roman name,
I think."

"Arrius, the son of Arrius."

"Yet thou art not a Roman?"

"All my people were Jews."

"Were, saidst thou? Are they not living?"

The question was subtle as well as simple; but Ilderim saved
Ben-Hur from reply.

"Come," he said to them, "the meal is ready."

Ben-Hur gave his arm to Balthasar, and conducted him to the table,
where shortly they were all seated on their rugs Eastern fashion.
The lavers were brought them, and they washed and dried their hands;
then the sheik made a sign, the servants stopped, and the voice of
the Egyptian arose tremulous with holy feeling.

"Father of All—God! What we have is of thee; take our thanks,
and bless us, that we may continue to do thy will."

It was the grace the good man had said simultaneously with his
brethren Gaspar the Greek and Melchior the Hindoo, the utterance
in diverse tongues out of which had come the miracle attesting
the Divine Presence at the meal in the desert years before.

The table to which they immediately addressed themselves was, as may
be thought, rich in the substantials and delicacies favorite in the
East—in cakes hot from the oven, vegetables from the gardens,
meats singly, compounds of meats and vegetables, milk of kine,
and honey and butter—all eaten or drunk, it should be remarked,
without any of the modern accessories—knives, forks, spoons,
cups, or plates; and in this part of the repast but little was
said, for they were hungry. But when the dessert was in course it
was otherwise. They laved their hands again, had the lap-cloths
shaken out, and with a renewed table and the sharp edge of their
appetites gone they were disposed to talk and listen.

With such a company—an Arab, a Jew, and an Egyptian, all believers
alike in one God—there could be at that age but one subject of
conversation; and of the three, which should be speaker but he to
whom the Deity had been so nearly a personal appearance, who had
seen him in a star, had heard his voice in direction, had been led
so far and so miraculously by his Spirit? And of what should he
talk but that of which he had been called to testify?

The shadows cast over the Orchard of Palms by the mountains at
set of sun left no sweet margin time of violet sky and drowsing
earth between the day and night. The latter came early and swift;
and against its glooming in the tent this evening the servants
brought four candlesticks of brass, and set them by the corners
of the table. To each candlestick there were four branches, and on
each branch a lighted silver lamp and a supply cup of olive-oil.
In light ample, even brilliant, the group at dessert continued
their conversation, speaking in the Syriac dialect, familiar to
all peoples in that part of the world.

The Egyptian told his story of the meeting of the three in
the desert, and agreed with the sheik that it was in December,
twenty-seven years before, when he and his companions fleeing from
Herod arrived at the tent praying shelter. The narrative was heard
with intense interest; even the servants lingering when they could
to catch its details. Ben-Hur received it as became a man listening
to a revelation of deep concern to all humanity, and to none of
more concern than the people of Israel. In his mind, as we shall
presently see, there was crystallizing an idea which was to change
his course of life, if not absorb it absolutely.

As the recital proceeded, the impression made by Balthasar upon
the young Jew increased; at its conclusion, his feeling was too
profound to permit a doubt of its truth; indeed, there was nothing
left him desirable in the connection but assurances, if such were
to be had, pertaining exclusively to the consequences of the
amazing event.

And now there is wanting an explanation which the very discerning
may have heretofore demanded; certainly it can be no longer delayed.
Our tale begins, in point of date not less than fact, to trench close
upon the opening of the ministry of the Son of Mary, whom we have
seen but once since this same Balthasar left him worshipfully in
his mother's lap in the cave by Bethlehem. Henceforth to the end
the mysterious Child will be a subject of continual reference;
and slowly though surely the current of events with which we are
dealing will bring us nearer and nearer to him, until finally we
see him a man—we would like, if armed contrariety of opinion would
permit it, to add—A MAN WHOM THE WORLD COULD NOT DO WITHOUT. Of
this declaration, apparently so simple, a shrewd mind inspired by
faith will make much—and in welcome. Before his time, and since,
there have been men indispensable to particular people and periods;
but his indispensability was to the whole race, and for all time—a
respect in which it is unique, solitary, divine.

To Sheik Ilderim the story was not new. He had heard it from the
three wise men together under circumstances which left no room
for doubt; he had acted upon it seriously, for the helping a
fugitive escape from the anger of the first Herod was dangerous.
Now one of the three sat at his table again, a welcome guest and
revered friend. Sheik IIderim certainly believed the story; yet,
in the nature of things, its mighty central fact could not come
home to him with the force and absorbing effect it came to Ben-Hur.
He was an Arab, whose interest in the consequences was but general;
on the other hand, Ben-Hur was an Israelite and a Jew, with more
than a special interest in—if the ~solecism can be pardoned—the
truth of the fact. He laid hold of the circumstance with a purely
Jewish mind.

From his cradle, let it be remembered, he had heard of the Messiah;
at the colleges he had been made familiar with all that was known
of that Being at once the hope, the fear, and the peculiar glory
of the chosen people; the prophets from the first to the last of
the heroic line foretold him; and the coming had been, and yet was,
the theme of endless exposition with the rabbis—in the synagogues,
in the schools, in the Temple, of fast-days and feast-days, in public
and in private, the national teachers expounded and kept expounding
until all the children of Abraham, wherever their lots were cast,
bore the Messiah in expectation, and by it literally, and with
iron severity, ruled and moulded their lives.

Doubtless, it will be understood from this that there was much
argument among the Jews themselves about the Messiah, and so
there was; but the disputation was all limited to one point,
and one only—when would he come?

Disquisition is for the preacher; whereas the writer is but telling
a tale, and that he may not lose his character, the explanation he
is making requires notice merely of a point connected with the
Messiah about which the unanimity among the chosen people was
matter of marvellous astonishment: he was to be, when come,
the KING OF THE JEWS—their political King, their Caesar.
By their instrumentality he was to make armed conquest of
the earth, and then, for their profit and in the name of God,
hold it down forever. On this faith, dear reader, the Pharisees
or Separatists—the latter being rather a political term—in the
cloisters and around the altars of the Temple, built an edifice of
hope far overtopping the dream of the Macedonian. His but covered
the earth; theirs covered the earth and filled the skies; that is
to say, in their bold, boundless fantasy of blasphemous egotism,
God the Almighty was in effect to suffer them for their uses to nail
him by the ear to a door in sign of eternal servitude.

Returning directly to Ben-Hur, it is to be observed now that there
were two circumstances in his life the result of which had been
to keep him in a state comparatively free from the influence and
hard effects of the audacious faith of his Separatist countrymen.

In the first place, his father followed the faith of the Sadducees,
who may, in a general way, be termed the Liberals of their time.
They had some loose opinions in denial of the soul. They were
strict constructionists and rigorous observers of the Law as
found in the books of Moses; but they held the vast mass of
Rabbinical addenda to those books in derisive contempt. They were
unquestionably a sect, yet their religion was more a philosophy
than a creed; they did not deny themselves the enjoyments of
life, and saw many admirable methods and productions among the
Gentile divisions of the race. In politics they were the active
opposition of the Separatists. In the natural order of things,
these circumstances and conditions, opinions and peculiarities,
would have descended to the son as certainly and really as any
portion of his father's estate; and, as we have seen, he was
actually in course of acquiring them, when the second saving
event overtook him.

Upon a youth of Ben-Hur's mind and temperament the influence of
five years of affluent life in Rome can be appreciated best by
recalling that the great city was then, in fact, the meeting-place
of the nations—their meeting-place politically and commercially,
as well as for the indulgence of pleasure without restraint.
Round and round the golden mile-stone in front of the Forum—now
in gloom of eclipse, now in unapproachable splendor—flowed
all the active currents of humanity. If excellences of manner,
refinements of society, attainments of intellect, and glory of
achievement made no impression upon him, how could he, as the son
of Arrius, pass day after day, through a period so long, from the
beautiful villa near Misenum into the receptions of Caesar, and be
wholly uninfluenced by what he saw there of kings, princes, ambassadors,
hostages, and delegates, suitors all of them from every known land,
waiting humbly the yes or no which was to make or unmake them? As
mere assemblages, to be sure, there was nothing to compare with the
gatherings at Jerusalem in celebration of the Passover; yet when
he sat under the purple velaria of the Circus Maximus one of three
hundred and fifty thousand spectators, he must have been visited by
the thought that possibly there might be some branches of the family
of man worthy divine consideration, if not mercy, though they were of
the uncircumcised—some, by their sorrows, and, yet worse, by their
hopelessness in the midst of sorrows, fitted for brotherhood in the
promises to his countrymen.