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PANTIKA: 
 
 TRADITIONS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MOST ANCIENT TIMES, 
 BY WILLIAM HOWITT. 
 
 1st nicht die ganze Erde des Herrn einWohnplatz der Menschtit? Weun 
 Aganippe, Arethuse, Derce und der Cephissus angenehm rauschen, wariun 
 solte nicht dort auch der Jordan, der Kur, der Ganges labende Wellen 
 treiben ? Warum nicht auch ein Bach in tier thebaischen Wiiste? 
 
 Herdir. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON : 
 WHITTAKER AND CO., AVE-MARIA LANE. 
 
 1835. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY MANNING AND SMITHSON, 
 
 IVY-LANE, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
^^f^^f^ PREFACE. 
 
 An excellent critic said lately, that the Germans 
 regard productions of this kind as poems. That is 
 exactly my idea of them. Poetry is not necessarily 
 confined to verse — much less has it any thing to do 
 ^ with prose run mad : but in the soberest and freest 
 ^ diction, the highest qualities of poetry — imagin- 
 ^^ ation, sentiment, and feeling — may be developed. 
 ^ A most absurd doctrine respecting works of 
 A imagination, has been broached of late years, and 
 one that I have been surprised to see avowed in 
 the criticisms of some, who ought to know better 
 ^ ' . the principles of their own art. If it has been their 
 ^^ lot to review a work which has been deficient in 
 ^ interest, they have thought it ample explanation of 
 the cause of that deficiency to say, — the author 
 .• has, unfortunately, laid the scene of his work 
 beyond the range of our sympathies ; it is too 
 distant in time or in country. Now, if this doctrine 
 must be received as truth, then will follow one of 
 the most singular and amazing deductions imagina- 
 ble. What, indeed, becomes then of the historic 
 interest of the early books of the Bible ? What 
 becomes of Homer ? They are surely as distant in 
 point of time, as any work written in the present 
 day can be. Nay, what becomes of the most 
 splendid productions of the ancients ? If distance 
 VOL. I. h 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 of time bounds our sympathies, then must they all 
 be swept away together. The Greek and Roman 
 Epics ; the magnificent Dramas and Lyrics, which 
 roused the ancient world with trumpet-tones; all 
 are consigned to oblivion; — ^schylus, Euripides, 
 Sophocles, and Pindar, are become empty names ; 
 their works — dreams, which have evaporated in the 
 night of time, into vague shadows, and have ceased 
 to stir the spirit and the blood of the living world. 
 
 But is it thus? We know it is not: but we 
 may, perhaps, be told, that this doctrine does not 
 apply to the works of the ancients, written on the 
 active events, or built upon the living spirit of their 
 own age ; but to those of modern writers, who go 
 now back into far centuries for their themes. The 
 names of Milton and Shakspeare — of almost every 
 truly great modern writer, falsify the assertion. If 
 we admit this creed, we must give up the Dion 
 and Laodamia of Wordsworth, — poems which the 
 highest judges have ever pronounced amongst the 
 noblest of his productions ; we must give up Tha- 
 laba and the Curse of Kehama, for they are laid in 
 countries with which we have few local sympathies 
 — little, except the groundwork of human nature to 
 excite us; and which, in fact, travel on into the worlds 
 of pure imagination, and occupy themselves with airy 
 creatures, far beyond the range of humanity. The 
 same charge applies as well to Lalla Rookh, and 
 the Epicurean, and to the splendid tales of Salathicl 
 and Valerius. All these works must, on this theory, 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 be pronounced totally dull and uninteresting to the 
 present generation — a confession, if once admitted, 
 that must make this generation appear most dull 
 and uninteresting itself. 
 
 But should it be said, that the early incidents of 
 the Bible derive their interest from their influence 
 on our present and eterucil destinies, — that Milton's 
 Epic is recommended by the same cause, — I deny 
 the inference ; for who does not know so much of 
 his own feelings, as to perceive that while his 
 imagination is occupied with the early narrations 
 of Scripture, he thinks of nothing less than their 
 religious influence? He is at first absorbed by their 
 beauty, — he afterwards reflects on their importance. 
 I assert their interest to arise, if not entirely, yet 
 in a powerful and preponderating degree, from 
 their own intrinsic beauty and conformity to the 
 great principles of human nature, and to the 
 quenchless thirst of the human mind after whatever 
 is beautiful, pathetic, or sublime. 
 
 To put the matter to the severest test, — whence 
 derive the Arabian Nights' Entertainments their 
 intense interest ? Not surely from time or place ; 
 not surely because they have aught to do with our 
 destinies, or can gratify, for a moment, the feverish 
 thirst for fashionable scandal, which confers its 
 charm upon the novel of what is called High Life. 
 These wild tales are laid in distant times, — in dis- 
 tant countries, — in which there exists for us no 
 further cause of interest than in a hundred other 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 distant nations. They violate every probability a 
 thousand ways. They abound with creatures that 
 partake of no one human property; yet, spite of 
 this, they are, and will be^ till the world grow old, 
 possessed of a mighty and absorbing interest. 
 
 In what, then, does this interest consist? — in 
 what the true and lasting interest of every good 
 work? Not so much of it is dependent on the 
 times, and people, and manners, that are about us, 
 as on their foundations being laid in human 
 nature, and their superstructure raised in a true 
 knowledge of that love of the marvellous, the beau- 
 tiful, the new, the magnificent, and the tender, 
 which for ever haunts the human soul; and as far 
 as the range of human nature extends, — ay, 
 farther, infinitively farther, into the illimitable and 
 inexhaustible worlds of creative imagination — will a 
 living and breathless interest follow the flight of 
 genius. 
 
 It is easy, then, to demonstrate that almost all 
 the really good works of ancient and modern times 
 have succeeded, independent of the scene or time 
 of their action ; and on the other hand, we would 
 ask, what bad work have such causes long buoyed 
 up? — without them, what good work has failed? 
 We ask in vain. A good work will succeed, in 
 spite of time and place — a bad one will not succeed, 
 with them, beyond that short and contemptible 
 moment which the hankerers after personalities 
 devote to the hurried act of devouring them. 
 
PREFACE. VU 
 
 If, therefore, a work comes before us, that fails 
 to seize upon our attention, and to warm our hearts, 
 let us be sure that it is not because it is laid in this 
 or that time, — amid this or that people ; but because 
 it is not constructed in accordance with the great 
 principles of human nature ; or, if it do not violate 
 these, it is because it is too feeble to compel the 
 secret springs of the heart, or too heavy to climb 
 up into the regions of the imagination. Let us 
 be sure that a master hand can clothe the wildest 
 dweller on the outskirts of the world with interest; 
 nay, that he can throw an attractive glory over the 
 imaginary habitants of the remotest regions of 
 the universe ; — over a shadow — a thought — a non- 
 entity. It is therefore with the firmest confidence 
 that I again ask, in the words of Herder, which I 
 have taken for my motto, '' Is not the whole of 
 God's earth the dwelling-place of man ? If Aga- 
 nippe, Arethusa, Dirce, and Cephissus, rush on 
 pleasantly; why should not the Jordan, the Cyr, 
 the Ganges, also pour refreshing waves ? — why not 
 even a brook in the Thebaic desert ? " 
 
 And in this confidence, I have dared to travel 
 back to the earliest days of the world for subjects 
 of imagination. It is true that Milton, Gesner, 
 Montgomery, and Byron, have been there before 
 me in poetry, and have proved that in that deli- 
 cious ai t, there is a power to draw glory and delight 
 from those dim and partially revealed times ; but it 
 has long appeared to me, that those brief glimpses 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 into the fate and fashion of the primitive nations 
 might be followed out, here and there, by the 
 imagination, without at all interfering with the 
 current of divine history, into prose stories of no 
 trivial power and pathos. I have made the attempt; 
 and if it be a failure, I seek no shelter from the 
 plea of the antiquity of my theme ; for, in truth, 
 neither time nor space can afford such apology ; the 
 cause of success or failure, must be sought in the 
 work itself. It is not the date, nor the scene of a 
 iiction which must stamp its value, but the manner in 
 which it is executed. It need not be asked where, 
 or when the plot of a work is laid, but whether 
 it is alive with the fervid energy of creative genius. 
 There is one recent work, which has been par- 
 ticularly pointed out to me, as an instance of the 
 danger of laying a story too far from our own 
 times,— "The Temple of Melekartha." If this 
 remarkable production has disappointed its anony- 
 mous, but highly gifted author, let any one look 
 into it and he will see far other causes than the 
 epoch it celebrates, to militate against its popu- 
 larity. It has split upon a rock where many a fine 
 spirit has been wrecked ; — it has suffered in a vain 
 attempt to combine into a harmonious whole, what 
 never can be so combined to any extent — popular 
 narrative and philosophical disquisition. A little 
 narrative, it is true, may be mingled in a large 
 quantity of grave argument with advantage, or a 
 little grave argument in much narrative ; but if 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 they bear any sort of equality of proportion, they 
 destroy each other. Narrative is a stream ; — if it 
 be eloquent and impassioned, it is a rapid stream ; 
 — but disquisition is a rock; — he whose spirit is 
 borne vehemently along the torrent of impetuous 
 narrative, must avoid it, or be dashed to pieces. 
 In the heated temper of our minds, in the glow 
 and gush of our imaginations, we turn aside from 
 anything like disquisition, not with indifference, 
 but with abhorrence and contempt. Let any one 
 recall the effect of the reading of Rousseau's 
 " Novelle Heloise" upon him, — the unnatural 
 and intolerable alternation of the rush of impetuous 
 incident, and of pages of sentiment, which even its 
 unequalled eloquence could not teach you to 
 endure, — and then let him not wonder at the 
 desolating effect of mingled narrative and disqui- 
 sition. The " Temple of Melekartha" abounds 
 with some of the most splendid instances of 
 imaginative description in the language ; it is also 
 rich in pages on pages of deep and practical 
 wisdom, — but it is the misfortune of these great 
 things, to be compelled into an unpropitious union. 
 In either department — in pure narrative, or in pure 
 disquisition on the philosophy of government, and 
 of human society, the author of " The Temple of 
 Melekartha" could only shew himself, to be at once 
 acknowledged a great master.* 
 
 * Since writing this, I have had every reason to believe 
 that he has shewn himself such, by a series of works of the 
 latter class well known to the public. 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 Another instance, that it is genius that con- 
 secrates a subject, has just occurred to me. The 
 " Telemachus" of Fenelon, and the "Sethos" 
 of the Abbe Terrasson, are parallel works. Both 
 were written in the same age ; both imbraced 
 antique subjects ; both were written with a similar 
 purpose ; — to develope in a fiction, a philosophical 
 design. Fenelon has mingled so much didactic 
 matter with his story, that he has rendered his 
 work in places very heavy, yet he has imbued it 
 with so much genius, that it is still read by the 
 young with deliglit; Terrasson has deluged his 
 narrative in the driest antiquarian details, and 
 wanting, moreover, the genius of his prototype, his 
 work never became popular, and exists now only 
 an obscure treasure cell, whence modern adven- 
 turers may fetch much convertible matter, as Moore 
 has freely done, in the marvellous ordeals of the 
 Neophyte, in his " Epicurean." 
 
 It only remains for me to say, that these legends 
 have been written three years, and that their pub- 
 lication has been delayed by causes beyond my 
 control. One of the smallest has been published 
 in the " Literary Souvenir" for 1830. 
 
 Nottingham, Jan. 1835. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 Pageo 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Pantika 1 
 
 NiCHAR, THE Exile of Heaven 101 
 
 Ithran, the Demoniac 255 
 
 Beeltuthma, the Desolate and the 
 Faithful 281 
 
THE 
 PILGRIMAGE OF PANTIKA. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 I, Pantika, whom men call the venerable Pantika 
 of Mount Taurus, have this day completed my 
 hundred and twentieth year. By the blessing of 
 God, I am full of health and peace. I could not, it 
 is true, spring over the hills with the vigorous step 
 which once was mine ; I could not sustain the toils 
 and privations of boundless travel, as once I did; 
 but in my cave, I am unconscious of any decay. 
 My heart beats strong and happily; the zest of 
 life is unabated within me ; my hand guides the 
 pen steadily as of old ; my spirit directs it with 
 keen ardour along the unwearying line ; a thousand 
 glorious memories float undimmed from many years, 
 from many lands, from the cogitations and con- 
 versations of many triumphant hours ; and though 
 my hair, which once curled short, dark, and thickly 
 
 VOL. 1. TJ 
 
THE riLGRIMAGE 
 
 around my head, now hangs in long and snowy 
 locks upon my shoulders, my eye is sharp and 
 percipient as ever. I can look round my cave, 
 and cast a clear and rapturous glance upon the 
 hoarded treasures of a long, long life, — not the 
 sordid earth which feeble men call wealth, but the 
 wisdom of the wise of many regions; the science, 
 the records, and the experience of many famous 
 states, — one day to enrich and emblazon my own ; 
 — and when I look abroad, God ! what a transport 
 is mine ! Below me shine the roofs and fanes of 
 my native Tarshish. I hear the hum of its busy 
 streets and quays ; I hear the songs and cheery 
 voices of its bold and reckless mariners ; I see its 
 ships issuing forth and coming in from the great 
 Lavant sea. I see its shores, green with luxuriant 
 laurels and myrtles, as when I was a boy: and 
 when I think that two generations have passed 
 away, and a third is fast hurrying on, — that they 
 who staid at home only to amass wealth, or went 
 abroad only to discover it, are dead ; and I, who, 
 careless of life, yet greedy of knowledge, have 
 dared all the perils of all the lands of the peopled 
 earth, am here, as hale, as dauntless, as joyous as 
 
OF PANTIKA. 3 
 
 ever — God! I again exclaim, it is the most mar- 
 vellous of all tlie marvellous things which the wide 
 and wonderful earth has shewn me. And where- 
 unto can I attribute it? — but that, whereas men 
 when they commence the career of life, continually 
 pray to the gods to grant them riches and honours, 
 I most fervently prayed (boy as I was, and I now 
 know whence the wisdom came), that my heart 
 might be saved from those insatiable and universal 
 passions ; that I might never for a moment care one 
 iota for gold, or the homage of the vulgar mul- 
 titude : but that it might be my lot to go through 
 the broad and unknown earth ; to behold men of 
 all countries ; to witness their various fortunes ; to 
 glean up their choicest wisdom ; and, deeming that 
 their destiny is one, since their nature is one, to 
 draw from the whole of my experience, a clear and 
 confident persuasion of what that destiny may be ; 
 — and, oh God ! how hast thou enriched me ! That 
 prayer and desire must have proceeded from thee, 
 and therefore thou hast blessed them wonderfully. 
 
 When I was but a youth, and ranged the fields 
 and mountains round my native city, with my com- 
 rades, lying in ambush for the coneys, as they 
 
4 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 issued in troops from the clefts of the rocks, to 
 sport or bask in the sunshine ; climbing to the nest 
 of the falcon, or vulture; or sending our arrows 
 after the kid of the hills ; the spirit of my life was 
 so sweet to me, that I desired to possess it for ever. 
 I shuddered at the thought of death, and I asked 
 my fellows if this life in the heart, which was so 
 strong and so pleasant, might not live on, though 
 the heart itself died? — but they only laughed at 
 my question, and said — " What mattered it ? We 
 were alive then, — and when we were dead, what 
 mattered it ?" I asked the old and the wise in the 
 city, but they said they knew not ; and went away 
 to ask of the changes of the winds, — of the arrival 
 of vessels, — of the success, or disasters of voyages ; 
 and as they w^alked along the streets, they said to 
 one another, with solemn nods, and significant 
 looks, — " Ah, ah ! merchant Mardius has had good 
 fortune ; or merchant Dictanus has sped no worse 
 than I predicted : the vessels are lost ; the caravan 
 has been assaulted and plundered; or this new 
 country, which these speculators have sought, and 
 of which we have heard such golden stories, turns 
 out to be nothing." But of my question, and of 
 
OF PANTIKA. 5 
 
 the life within them, they seemed to care little 
 beyond the present. 
 
 But I could not rest like them. I was desperate 
 to keep, and to hold the life of my thoughts ; and 
 often, when I sate in the desert alone, beneath 
 some great rock, or woke at midnight in my bed, 
 the thought that I must one day utterly perish, 
 wrung my spirit with indescribable agony. I 
 rolled to and fro in a cold and convulsive pain ; 
 and with my forehead gushing with the dews of 
 terrible anguish, I cried unto any god that would 
 hear me, and tell me that I should live for ever. 
 As I grew up, these terrible apprehensions sent 
 into me, thoughts and feelings that seemed to be 
 solely my own. I deemed that there must be 
 truths and knowledge that my countrymen, ar- 
 dently devoted to commerce, knew not; and I 
 determined to seek them through the unknown 
 earth. I have sought ! I have found ! oh, many 
 are the evils, measureless the darkness, the vileness, 
 •the cruelty which I have seen in the abodes of 
 men. How they wound, persecute, and destroy 
 each other ; how they pervert, or see not the 
 blessings of fairest climates ; how they are crushed, 
 
THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 and stupified, and debased, and disfigured into 
 something worse than the apes of the forest, by 
 the everlasting and unrelenting savageness of 
 others. How they cling unto their bitter regions, 
 like desert plants, because they sprung there ; 
 how others, restless in their own abundant places, 
 pluck from the earth the iron which God concealed 
 in it, that they might find it, and cultivate with it 
 their rich soil ; but they go forth, and with it smite 
 to the dust the possessors of other lands, who are 
 better than they ; and how the destroyers of men, 
 and the propagators of idolatrous fables, subdue 
 and dominate over foolish nations, far and wide. 
 These things have I seen ; and have trodden many 
 a thousand leagues, with a heart full of indignation 
 and pity. But I have also seen better things. I 
 have found the God of the World ! I have found 
 his people — the guardians of his oracles ! These 
 oracles are mine ! There ! there ! are the blessed 
 and holy scrolls for ever in my sight. Keenly as 
 the Gryphons, who in the Scythian wilds are said 
 to guard the gold from the thievish Arimaspians, 
 do I watch them : — but my soul is at rest ; I know 
 that I shall live for ever ! 
 
OF PANTIKA. 7 
 
 Two generations are gone : I am dwelling with 
 the third. The elders are dead; my companions 
 have followed them ; and from vast and repeated 
 wanderings, I have returned to live amongst a race 
 which is mine, and yet seem strangers. Yet amongst 
 them 1 have not lacked either honour or love. 
 Who is more happy than Pantika? My cave aloft 
 in the southern slope of the mountain, is spacious 
 and dry. The noblest vines cling to the rock in 
 front, and hang their long, pliant shoots, and heavy 
 purple clusters down before my windows, on which 
 the sun pours his cordial rays. I rise with the 
 earliest dawn of summer, and still behold below me 
 the city which gave me birth ; the hills around which 
 my boyish feet have trod, all green, and shining with 
 a dewy freshness ; and my heart leaps with gladness 
 as I behold the sun rise from the eastern ocean, 
 cast his ruddy flames over the flickering waters, that 
 flash and blaze, and roll themselves far and wide, as 
 with an immortality of beauty and power. I see 
 him climb in his strength till all the ranges of the 
 hills below^ which rise one above another like giant 
 steps, as they approach these mountains, gleam 
 with the opal hues of morning. I see the mists 
 
THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 rising and melting from the intervening valleys; 
 and the sky above them, all crimsoned with clouds, 
 or filled with a pearly radiance. I see the herds- 
 man drive forth his cattle to their pastures, and hear 
 his ascending songs. I see the fair damsels speed 
 to the mountain brook, and go carolling back, bear- 
 ing the pitcher on their hand. I see the hunter 
 mounting from steep to steep, vigorous as the roe 
 which he hopes soon to discover in the upland 
 thicket ; and, from the far sea, a white sail, flashing 
 at intervals, bears my spirit to distant lands. These 
 do I witness, with the flight and cries of many bril- 
 liant birds, and the voice of many a creature re- 
 joicing in the wild; and I am silent and glad. 
 
 During the sultry silence of the day, I repose in 
 the shade of my cave, and unfold and trace many 
 a precious scroll gathered in my wanderings; or 
 pen down what I have seen and heard. As the 
 coolness of evening approaches, I hear the mea- 
 sured tread of grave elders advancing to my cave, 
 who love to listen to the laws and religions, the 
 wealth and wars of other lands, and do not disdain 
 to seek for my experienced guidance in the difficult 
 moments of their own government. I hear the 
 
OF PANTIKA. y 
 
 light laugliter and sportive voices of the young 
 as they ascend merrily to my abode, to learn of 
 the loves and adventures of strange and far-off 
 people ; and to pluck with jocund v^ords the clus- 
 ters, which they tell me, sadly encumber my vine. 
 Blessings on them ! I love the sight of their 
 happy countenances, — the sound of their happy 
 tongues. They cast a sunshine round the peaceful 
 evening of my days; and I felicitate myself, that 
 I have made the morning of theirs beautiful, by 
 that knowledge which renders men triumphant 
 over every mortal fear. 
 
 But Cydna ! sweet Cydna ! thou grand-child of 
 an early playmate, — tenfold blessings upon thee! 
 When I see thy light and lovely form in succinct 
 and buskined array, and thy rattling quiver slung 
 from thy fair shoulder; thy horned bow in thy 
 hand, bounding with thy gallant brother, like 
 fabled Dian, to the hills; or when I see thee in 
 the simple elegance of evening ; see thy laughing, 
 beauteous face ; hear thy frank and merry tongue, 
 I think on many lovely creatures in many distant 
 lands, but I find none so pleasant as thee. Come 
 to day ! Come as thou art wont ! Make merry 
 b3 
 
10 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 with my cave, — with my cylindrical cases, stuffed 
 with endless scrolls; and say, as thou hast often 
 said, " Dear Pantika, when thou, art gone, who 
 will read all these musty books? They are very 
 wise, 1 doubt not; but wisdom is little set by at 
 Tarshish, so just write down a little thin roll, for 
 my especial use ; and let it be of those pleasant 
 stories which thou hast told us young and giddy 
 people, who love nothing wiser half so well. 
 Write them down, good Pantika, and they shall 
 last for ever !" Come Cydna, thou laughter-loving 
 and irreverent maiden, and behold, this day — this 
 memorable day of my hundred and twentieth year, 
 thy wish about to be fulfilled. This day wilt thou 
 find me already engaged in writing thy choice 
 volume. Forty-five large tomes have I already 
 indited of my travels; seven, of the precious maxims 
 of the wise of all nations; twenty, of the laws; 
 seventeen, of compressed and select histories; 
 nine, of the origin and varieties of religions ; and 
 five on the philosophy of all these learned works, 
 wherein I have recorded my own deductions and 
 opinions, founded on a century of perambulatory 
 observations, anxious scrutiny and reflection, — a 
 
OF PANTIKA. 11 
 
 precious legacy to some future genius of my 
 country. 
 
 In these might be found copious details of my 
 travels; the strange deeds and curious manners 
 of the people whom I have visited ; my own perils 
 and wonderous escapes. For I have crossed 
 dreadful mountains, and more dreadful deserts; 
 and have often been in imminent jeopardy from 
 savage beasts, and more savage men ; the blood- 
 thirstiness of superstition ; the suspicious cunning 
 of fearful policy ; the insolent outrage of proud 
 and domineering warriors and chieftains. I have 
 gasped in the desert sands, in the last stage of 
 horrible exhaustion ; frozen in the dark and dreary 
 north; and shivered in midnight thickets and caves; 
 but of these I now relate little, for I have already 
 left them on record, and they who seek may find. 
 As in my painful pilgrimages, I have passed over 
 vast and various wildernesses in order to reach 
 some small paradise, or the scene of some mar- 
 vellous event, so shall I now pass over the ordinary 
 wilderness of my life, and pause upon some few 
 and choice histories, which I have gleaned up for 
 thee Cydna, and hearts like thine. Whoever 
 
12 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 would know more than I here give of the countries 
 I mention, I again say, once for all, let him con- 
 sult my forty-five volumes of travels, the seven 
 of maxims, the twenty of laws, the seventeen of 
 history, the nine on religions, or the five of general 
 philosophical disquisitions and comments, as his 
 particular inquiries may happen to direct him. 
 
 As I traversed immense and famous regions, 
 and encountered some very remarkable passages in 
 my first pilgrimage, I am disposed here to speak 
 of them, because, as I am especially inditing these 
 pages for the young, it may not be uninteresting 
 to them to know something of my youth, which 
 many aifect to doubt of ever having been; and 
 which, indeed, is a thing of other times ; — because 
 it is very pleasant to me to live again in those 
 days, — and because, moreover, it made me ac- 
 quainted with a people, and a knowledge, which 
 will be transcendently conspicuous in these pages. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 13 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 I have already spoken of my boyhood, and the de- 
 sires of a clearer knowledge of man and his destiny 
 which early haunted me ; and of my resolve to tra- 
 verse the world in quest of this knowledge. Well, 
 strangers of many divers nations were collected 
 continually in Tarshish. As the most ancient of 
 maritime states, as the school of wisdom and elegant 
 arts, and of adventurous commerce, notwithstand- 
 ing the wayward speech of the jocular Cydna — that 
 wisdom is little valued at Tarshish — the bold and 
 the speculative, those desirous of acquiring science 
 or wealth, were drawn hither, as at this day, from 
 every known land. Tyre and Zidon, the flourish- 
 ing daughters of our ancient city, sent their hardy 
 sons, scorched with the heat and tinged with the 
 darkening winds of every climate ; the far-traffick- 
 ing people of Aramea and Madai, who cross with 
 numerous caravans the immense, torrid, and dread- 
 ful deserts to the remote India, carrying thither 
 
14 ' THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 our wares, and bringing thence spices, gold, rare 
 gems, vessels and fabrics of singular fashions and 
 wondrous dyes : Ethiopians, Egyptians, natives of 
 the western isles of Javan; and the traders, and 
 swarthy wandering warriors and magians from the 
 eastern plains of Cush, and Elam, and Havilah. 
 These I sought after diligently ; and with continual 
 labour and insatiable avidity made myself familiar 
 with their various tongues, and inquired after their 
 different lands, customs, faiths, and traditions. A 
 new world was opened to me. Each described his 
 own country in such terms that, beautiful as Tar- 
 shish seemed to me, I began to imagine that it 
 must be tlie meanest corner of the earth; and my 
 spirit was on fire to visit realms so much more glo- 
 rious. Much did I hear too of their histories and 
 their gods ; much that dazzled my imagination and 
 stirred my desires, but at the same time confounded 
 and perplexed me with inexplicable contradictions. 
 Yet amid all, 1 discovered traces of great events 
 which had happened alike to all people ; my eye 
 was continually pointed backward to an ancient 
 time, when all men dwelt together, and had one 
 tongue, one abiding, and one God. I perpetually 
 
OF PANTIKA. 15 
 
 heard of marvellous events wliicli had occurred in 
 the regions of the east — where all agreed the first 
 human abode had been — the destruction and reno- 
 vation of man. My soul was kindled to inexpres- 
 sible fervency of desire. I longed to tread the very 
 glades of Eden ; — to behold the mount once crowned 
 with the ship of the Great Father — of that ancient 
 and mysterious being known by the many names of 
 IluSj Cronus, Noe, Nu, Menu, Menes, Hu, Bodhu 
 or Yatyavrata, wlien he escaped from the howling 
 dales of the grievous waters. I longed to plunge 
 into the far immensities of unknown lands, where I 
 deemed that vast treasures of ancient knowledge 
 yet lay concealed. 
 
 The distress that prayed upon my spirit when it 
 first was roused to inquiry, had now given way to 
 a far different feeling. I was filled with a trium- 
 phant ardour and buoyancy of heart, that led me to 
 thirst for adventure, to despise all danger, and even, 
 while I was overflowing with the luxurious con- 
 sciousness of life, to reck little for life itself; for a 
 new spiritual horizon had spread its boundless circle 
 around 'me. I found all the various people with 
 whom I conversed, possessed of as various a belief 
 
16 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 of a multitude of gods; but all uniting in some 
 great, leading principles, that converged, in the 
 shadowy distance of antiquity, as to a common 
 centre; and that centre was the great Nous, or 
 primeval, eternal, and infinite Mind, whence all, 
 both gods and men, proceeded. 
 
 It was here that my soul flew, and clung as unto 
 its most precious hope. It was this dimly known, yet 
 universally accredited principle, which seemed alone 
 to respond to that cry and agonising desire of my 
 innermost being, after the source of its existence ; — 
 it was this alone which seemed to form a centre of 
 sure dependence, for the continuance and inviolable 
 safety of that life in the heart which vehemently 
 craved still to be, and fought with tears and agonies 
 against the apprehensions of annihilation. It was 
 this which seemed to breathe, and develope itself 
 in the harmonious unity of nature ; in the one 
 fair and crystal sky overarching all lands; in the 
 eternal order of the seasons; in the rejoicing spirit 
 which animated the vagrant winds, — the gladsome 
 rolling or leaping waters,— in the sustenance and 
 joy of all living creettures; and which the one- 
 ness of human nature, under all the modifications 
 
OF TANTIKA. 17 
 
 of minor beliefs, of national customs, of soil and 
 climate, seemed to claim as its only and common 
 parent. 
 
 I had seized upon this great faith of the whole 
 human family, as upon the precious charter of life — 
 immortal life, and nothing could shake it from my 
 soul ; therefore was my bosom full of light and joy: 
 and I confidently trusted, in the regions of the east, 
 in the birth-place of man, to discover yet brighter 
 and surer knowledge of what we are, and are to be. 
 
 I was of one of the wealthiest and most respected 
 families of Tarshish; but I never enjoyed much 
 parental love and cherishing. My parents both 
 died in my infancy, and left me to the charge of 
 my father's bosom friend, Podonius ; and well had 
 he justified that charge. In my childish years he 
 had caressed and watched over me with the love 
 which he had borne my father ; and with the tears 
 and tenderness with which his loss had left him for 
 ever impressed. I was placed in the hands of the 
 most discreet and affectionate females, and, as I 
 grew, was transferred to the most renowned and 
 grave philosophers for instruction. Under them, I 
 had reaped all the knowledge which Tarshish, the 
 
18 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 great school of science, could confer upon my 
 years : and Podonius was elated with satisfaction in 
 me, and with golden hopes for me in the future. 
 He had seen the assiduity with which I had sought 
 the society of the most distinguished and intelligent 
 foreigners frequenting our city; the knowledge I 
 had gathered of their tongues, countries, and insti- 
 tutions ; and he regarded it with the highest satis- 
 faction, as a foundation on which I should here- 
 after build a superstructure of vast wealth and 
 mercantile distinction. He had seen the ardour 
 with which I had likewise followed the chase with 
 my comrades in the neighbouring mountains ; and, 
 so far from checking, had encouraged me in hardy 
 and adventurous habits. They would, he said, fit 
 me the better to sustain the character of a merchant 
 of Tarshish, who should not merely be qualified to 
 sit at home in his counting-house, and preserve the 
 balance of his books; but should know how to 
 estitnate and sympathise with his crews and cap- 
 tains, in the toils and dangers of their various and 
 arduous voyages : nay, should be able, on any 
 emergency, to go forth himself, and lead the way to 
 the execution of some necessary, but nice and diffi- 
 
OF PANT! K A. 19 
 
 cult enterprise. It would provide me, moreover, 
 with that stock of health and robust vigour, which 
 the cares and anxieties of a merchant, who holds in 
 his hand so many important and precarious inte- 
 rests, render so peculiarly desirable. 
 
 When, therefore, I was nearly arrived at man- 
 hood, the good old Podonius one day took me aside 
 into his summer parlour, with an air of anxious, 
 bustling gravity; and closing the door carefully 
 behind him, without a word, pointed briskly to a 
 place on the divan, where I might seat myself; 
 took his seat also opposite, at some little distance ; 
 and fixing his eyes upon me with a solemn eager- 
 ness, remained some time in silence. 
 
 I was sensible that some important disclosure 
 was at hand ; but what, I knew not ; and my brain 
 began issuing to itself a host of queries, but to no 
 purpose. I shall never forget that moment, nor its 
 sensations. Bold as I am by nature, there is some- 
 thing in the solemn gravity of the aged, that has 
 always awed and subdued me in a mysterious man- 
 ner, as if the spirit of the divinity dwelt in them, 
 and, turning its regards upon me, transfixed me 
 with sensations of its high sanctity, and my own 
 unworthiness. 
 
20 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 Such were the feelings which then rushed over 
 me, from the ceremonious air and proceeding of the 
 good old man ; and they have left impressed upon 
 me, with the vividness of life, the minutest features 
 and circumstances of the time and place. It was a 
 fine summer evening. The ample windows look- 
 ing into the venerable man's garden, were thrown 
 wide ; the rich azure and gold-bordered curtains 
 flung back. Above, the sky shone in clear and 
 tranquil splendour; below, the sunshine as tran- 
 quilly lay upon wall, and leaf, and flower ; and lit 
 up, with a variety of rainbow hues, the falling 
 waters of the fountain that played in the lawn 
 before us. By its side the two aged storks, which 
 during my memory were tenants of that garden, 
 reared, in slumbrous stillness, their perpendicular 
 forms. The turtle-doves, which made their abode 
 in the wide- spreading cedar in the centre of the 
 garden, had come out, and lay basking on the 
 broad, flat masses of dark foliage towards the west ; 
 and not a sound invaded the repose of the retired 
 and enclosed garden, but the hum of the city, that 
 poured murmuringly over its walls. 
 
 When the old man had gazed upon me for a 
 
OF PANTIKA. 21 
 
 little time, he thus addressed me, with a sigh, and 
 in a tone that seemed to augur some rather melan- 
 choly detail : — " My dear Pantika, thy form and 
 face bring so strongly before me the remembrance 
 of one, to me the pleasantest of men, that, joined 
 to this day which is the anniversary of that on 
 which he was lost to thee and me, they nearly 
 overpower me, and may make my present business 
 w^ith thee seem something sad, whereas it ought to 
 be much the contrary. 
 
 "I praise the gods that they have denied the 
 prayer of my passion, and fulfilled the better one 
 of my hope. I prayed to them, on the day that 
 they took away the friend and brother of my soul, 
 that they would take me also ; but when I called to 
 mind thy father's dying charge, and looked upon 
 thy innocent helplessness, I prayed again that I 
 might live to see thee what I once saw him. My 
 better desire is fulfilled. I have watched thee, like 
 a full and glad river, rolling through the plain of 
 life. I have seen thee, like the bold ibex, bound- 
 ing from cliiF to cliflf in 'the strength and joy of 
 youth. I have heard thy praise from the lips of 
 the wise around me, and my heart has been like 
 
2*2 THE PILGRIM /VGE 
 
 the roe, whicli in its fulness hides its head in the 
 thicket, and is glad. But life flies fast, Pantika ; 
 thou hast enjoyed thy youth to the full: it is now 
 lit that thou shouldest take up a little of that load 
 of care which every good citizen must sustain. 
 Thy father was an adventurous merchant : men 
 saw and acknowledged his sure sagacity ; and had 
 not death cut him off too soon, he would have 
 shone one of the noblest senators of Tarshish. 
 That merchant, — that citizen, — that senator, be 
 thou ! To-morrow thou shalt begin a new era of 
 life : — to-morrow thou shalt be a merchant of 
 Tarshish ! " 
 
 The old man's words had tendered my spirit; 
 but surprised at the nature of the disclosure, when I 
 expected something mysterious and melancholy, I 
 did not sufficiently consider his feelings, and ab- 
 ruptly replied that I declined all idea of commerce. 
 
 As I spoke, the aged Podonius sprung like a 
 youth, from the divan to his feet ; fixed his eyes in 
 flashing astonishment upon me, and exclaimed, — 
 " Pantika ! Pantika ! art thou mad ? Wilt thou 
 break my heart ? Dost thou design to imitate the 
 foolish youths of this generation, that, instead of 
 
OF PANTIKA. 28 
 
 emulating the grave reputation of their fathers, use 
 their wealth, only to cover themselves with shame ? 
 — to spread their tables for the vain and profligate ; 
 open their halls to the dancer and courtezan ; listen 
 to the strains of those Ionian rhapsodists, that 
 infect them' with dreams of foolish renown ? Wilt 
 thou mount thy chariot glittering with chased gold, 
 with carved imagery, and soft with purple cushions, 
 — and with thy steeds, four a-breast, whirl through 
 the astonished and indignant city? Shall I see 
 thee, instead of sending forth thy stout-built ships, 
 fraught with substantial merchandise, to a hundred 
 ports, — trimming and spreading to the breeze, the 
 silken sails of thy sumptuous pleasure-barge, and 
 sailing along the shore, the admiration of fools? 
 Wilt thou assume the garb and manners of every 
 country but thy own; and look with contempt 
 upon all those homely and sober modes and 
 maxims, which have raised Tarshish from nothing, 
 to renown ?" 
 
 The old man sunk exhausted with his excite- 
 ment, drew the curtain before his face, and wept 
 aloud. I perceived my error. I threw myself at 
 his feet, and hastened to explain that no such views 
 
24 , THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 were mine ; but that I had set my heart upon travel, 
 and trusted to 'gather knowledge, and return to 
 benefit my country, more than by the wealth of a 
 life of prosperous commerce. In an instant, though 
 I saw that his soul was wounded to the quick, by 
 the disappointment of his views, and by his fears 
 for my safety in foreign travel, the good Podonius 
 was laying plans, and writing letters on my behalf, 
 to his numerous correspondents in the most distant 
 corners of the world. When he found that my 
 views tended towards the east, he immediately se- 
 cured me friends in a caravan, about to commence 
 its march ; and would have sent servants, camels, 
 and stuff, sufficient to supply a caravan themselves; 
 had I not, again to his amaze, declared that I 
 should take no creature but myself. I dared not, 
 however, unfold to him my real views. I received 
 on my head his blessings and his tears. I clasped 
 the old man in an affectionate embrace, and de- 
 parted from the city with the caravan. It was 
 not long, however, before I turned aside from its 
 course, and, with my bow in my hand, I bounded 
 like a hunter to the hills. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 When I had ascended the heights above my native 
 city, and saw its roofs and fanes glittering below 
 me ; I stood for a moment, and bade it from my 
 heart an aifectionate farewell. " Adieu ! " I ex- 
 claimed, " thou beloved spot, and all the beloved 
 beings within thee. Though I fly thee, yet art 
 thou to me the dearest spot on earth. I know not 
 whether heaven has decreed my return to thee ; 
 but if I come not back, thou wilt never miss one 
 solitary being from thy multitude. I see thy gal- 
 lant ships, even now, stretching away from thy 
 port, to those of every shore of the known world ; — 
 to Syria, to Egypt, to Cyrene, to Mauritania, to 
 the isles, and the fair and far Atlantis of the west. 
 In those voyages, many of thy sons will fall; — 
 those that return, will return to pour wealth into 
 thy bosom. If I fall, what matters it that it be in 
 some yet unknown land; but if I return, it shall be 
 with treasures that shall enrich thee for ever." 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
26 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 I cast one eager glance over all those beloved 
 scenes, and darted away, seeking to drown reflec- 
 tion and emotion in the rapidity of flight. I 
 directed my course to that wild and jagged gap in 
 the mountains, through which flows the ra])id 
 stream of the Aratus. Above my head, frowned 
 its dark and shattered rocks; at my feet rushed 
 the resounding and impetuous torrent : here scarcely 
 leaving me room to thread my way between the 
 clifi*s and itself; here fairly obliging me to brave 
 its strong, clear waters, that threatened to bear me 
 back to my native fields. Having issued from these 
 defiles, I turned eastward, and traversed, with an 
 exulting heart, the land of Aramea. Oh, that I 
 could depict the joyousness of my soul as I went 
 along ! But who can tell the sublime passion of 
 the eagle, as he soars from mountain to mountain, 
 through the liquid ocean of heaven ? Who can 
 display the fiery heart of the wild white steed, as 
 he scours with his fellows, the boundless Cuthean 
 plains? I seemed to have cast behind me every 
 earthly care and fear; and to have found, in the 
 perfect communion with nature, the true secret of 
 life. And verily, I was moving amid scenes where 
 
OF PANTIKA. 27 
 
 nature appears in all her power and beauty. From 
 day to day I advanced, as in a radiant dream, 
 through the most luxuriant and delicious fields ; by 
 the swiftest and most living streams, which here 
 wound brightly between banks overhung with 
 flowers, and here came dashing down riotously 
 from the hills. I trod through deep grass, and a 
 wilderness of blooms ; and my eyes wandered with 
 unwearying delight, amongst forests, and upland 
 fields, and far-winding vales, embossed with rustic 
 dwellings of the natives ; and, far on either hand, 
 to the summits of mountains that clothed them- 
 selves, morning and evening, with every lovely 
 and ever-varying hue of rose, and purple, and 
 violet; and in the bright noon, with the ra- 
 diance of sunshine flung from the mirror of their 
 eternal snows. I rested at will, and ^ conversed 
 with the hospitable people ; and beheld, with equal 
 admiration, the riches with which nature has en- 
 dowed them, and the active spirit with which those 
 riches are enjoyed. Magnificent vines threw their 
 pliant arms from tree to tree, and hung down to 
 the admiring eyes, their heavy purple bunches. 
 The fig, the olive, the pomegranate, and innumer- 
 
28 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 able other fruits, solicited tlie hands; their bees 
 murmured over the fields, and brought home plen- 
 tiful sweets, and their indefatigable nature laid hold 
 on this abundance, and prepared from it wealth 
 and happiness. With their wines, their preserved 
 fruits, their steeds, which ranged the rich pastures 
 in thousands, — the careful Arameans daily set 
 forth to distant lands, and brought back the sources 
 of refined enjoyment and independence. 
 
 One eve I approached a fair, broad lake, in the 
 centre of mountainous woods. The sky was cloud- 
 less, — the air was transparent as crystal ; but still, 
 as if nature slept. Not a breeze moved; not a 
 leaf quivered on the trees ; not a flower that 
 stooped over the water, and was mirrored therein, 
 bowed its beauteous head. All was still, balmy, 
 and lovely. The broad face of the water was 
 smooth and bright as the heavens above it. Not a 
 fish, leaping from its depths, disturbed it with a 
 momentary circle ; — a blossom, falling from some 
 overhanging tree, scarcely dimpled it. Save that 
 the birds in the woody heights around, sung and 
 called to each other with the shrill earnestness of 
 life, — I should have deemed myself in some 
 
OF PANTIKA. 29 
 
 splendid dream : as it was, I marvelled at the 
 profound, slumbrous, beamy quietness of the spot, 
 and hardly ventured to move lest I should break 
 the spell of its sacred repose. A mingled odour of 
 exquisite richness rose from the flowers at my feet ; 
 and my eyes fixed themselves in contemplative 
 astonishment at the magnificent woods and cliffs, 
 which, in a. variety of light and shade, stood around, 
 and mirrored themselves gloriously in the hushed 
 water, and on the soft, beauteous colours that clad 
 their summits. 
 
 As I stood, a girl issued from a shadowy glade, 
 that opened itself between the mighty and mossed 
 stems of aged trees, driving before her a troop of 
 goats, with a large scarlet lily of many resplendent 
 heads; and her flowing ringlets intertwined, in 
 girlish phantasy, with blossomed twigs of myrtle 
 and jasmine, and the bells of hyacinths. I asked, 
 "where am I?" and she replied, "in Eden ! " Eden ! 
 — the name fell upon my heart with a shock. Was 
 I truly in Paradise, and gazing on its hallowed fea- 
 tures ! I seemed yet more wrapped in a dream 
 than before. A glad perturbation filled my spirit. 
 I moved to and fro in the restlessness of delight ; 
 
30 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 and wandered, again and again, in half-doubting, 
 half-triumphant wonder over all the fairy scene. I 
 flung myself on the margin of the lake, and my 
 tears dropped into the flood. My soul wandered 
 away into a thousand glorious traditions, — into a 
 reverie of winged thoughts. Night fell over me. 
 I slept; and my dreams . brought before me our 
 first radiant parents, and all the moving incidents 
 of the opening world. When I woke in the morn- 
 ing, a change had passed over the scene. The 
 dreamy charm of evening was gone. A breeze 
 was shaking the boughs of the odoriferous forests, 
 and waking their solemn voices to music. It 
 curled the water into living waves, over which a 
 thousand light-winged birds sported to and fro ; a 
 thousand glad cries of living things were heard 
 around ; and myriads of the fairest flowers trembled 
 and bowed in the breeze, rejoicing in the general 
 joy. I gazed with still deepening wonder, at the 
 rich beauty of everything around me. The woods, 
 here and there, threw their dark splendid masses 
 of foliage over the water; gorgeous flowers, like 
 cups of silver and gold, glowed amid their affluent 
 boughs; and creeping plants, all interwoven with 
 
OF PANTIKA, 31 
 
 aromatic blooms, flung themselves from tree to 
 tree : here hanging in garlands and festoons from 
 the lower branches ; here twining in festive wreaths 
 round the tall grey stems, or issuing to light on 
 the summit of the loftiest tree in the forest, and 
 crowning it with a tiara of glory ; while below, the 
 jasmine twined its starry blossoms through every 
 odorous thicket 
 
 I sat upon a large stone upon the shore ; behind 
 me rose those glorious scenes! — lilies, hyacinths, 
 and a thousand floral creations glowed on the green 
 banks ; and violets, in legions, breathed from their 
 hidden abodes, their sweetness upon me. The 
 waves came curling and breaking at my feet, full 
 of Hfe and music ; and far, far before me, creation 
 smiled in warm and boundless beauty. I looked 
 to the skies, and thanked the God of gods, that he 
 had set me free from earthly cares and desires, and 
 had given me to feel all the wild glory of his 
 eternal works. I felt that he had already blessed 
 me in my choice, — that gladness which clothes the 
 bosom of creation like sunshine, was mine ; and it 
 mattered not, whither I carried, or where I laid 
 down my life. 
 
32 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 But why do I delay here ? For days, for weeks, 
 for months, I wandered on ; borne by a spirit of 
 delight, such as must possess the inhabitants of hea- 
 ven. I beheld Ararat, the mountain of the ark. I 
 gazed on its stupendous bulk ; on its two summits, 
 glittering with eternal ice, and clad in colours of the 
 rose. I paced its wide and peopled plain ; I lin- 
 gered on the bosky shores of the great sea of 
 Kasp; 1 traversed the sultry land of Havilah; I 
 crossed the burning deserts, where nothing lives 
 but the scorpion and the fierce ostrich, that in 
 winged troops scour the torrid wilds; and, like 
 spirits of evil, vent their rage in hissing and 
 laughter, and fill the night with their groans and 
 horrible complainings. I ascended into the moun- 
 tains of Sephar. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Could I consent to dwell in any other land than 
 that which gave me birth; could I be content to 
 lead a free and jocund life, untouched by the cares 
 which, in civilized existence, consume and wither 
 away being, in the anxiety to preserve and embellish 
 it; could I abandon myself to the enjoyment of the 
 amenities of earth and air, the beauty of nature's 
 boldest scenes, the spontaneous luxury of its richest 
 spots ; the exulting transport of the chase ; the 
 society of the fairest women, and no mean intellec- 
 tual delights, exempt from the restless fever of am- 
 bition, — in these mountains of Sephar would I have 
 planted my abode. There, every variety of climate 
 is known. Northward, the stupendous range of 
 the Caucasus, hoary with perpetual winter, breathed 
 its cool influence over a glorious region that exhi- 
 bited the boldest features of mountain scenery, yet 
 gradually declined in altitude to the very plains of 
 torrid India. Within these limits what an endless 
 c3 
 
34 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 variety of landscape presented itself! Mountains 
 of every character — the cold, the scathed, and 
 ruinous — the forest-crowned, the green, and gently- 
 swelling ; dark precipices ; wild, winding valleys — 
 others, again, gentle and fair, and expanding their 
 ample bosoms to the sun, — lakes, and woods, and 
 undulating fields, and dwellings scattered through 
 them in a diversity of groupings. Here some 
 gloomy pine forest stood on a broad, airy height, 
 between the lofty regions of lifeless winter, and the 
 lower scenes of summer ; where the hunter lay in 
 ambush for the bear, and heard the wind sounding 
 in the dark tops with a solemn sea-like roar. Here 
 again were, lower down, wide mountainous fields, 
 green as an emerald, scattered with light-waving 
 flowers, fanned with cool fresh breezes, and beauti- 
 fied with scattered olives, tamarisks, and spreading 
 forest trees. Again, lower down, were warm, luxu- 
 rious valleys, huts of cane and palm leaves, and a 
 beautiful people, living atease amid beautiful scenes. 
 They were a branch of the great Cuthean race ; 
 possessing all their pride and untameable spirit; 
 disdaining to labour the earth for their support; and 
 nature seemed here to have indulged their disposi- 
 
OF PANTIKA. 35 
 
 tion to the utmost. Pines, melons, the fruit of the 
 vine and the date, of the palm and the pomegranate; 
 nuts of many species; oranges and apples like gold; 
 and a thousand luxurious and melting productions 
 of tree, and shrub, and trailing plant, were presented 
 to their hands. The men, in a cap, a light, close 
 tunic, and buskins of the skins of beasts, prepared 
 in the smoke of a fire of aromatic woods till they 
 were as pliant as silk, and impregnated with a de- 
 lightful odour; armed with a bow and arrows of 
 cane, and a short javelin, mounted their fiery steeds, 
 and went to war, or the chase, with equal gaiety ; 
 lurked in the thicket for the savage beast, or pur- 
 sued, with steps of wonderful elasticity and speed, 
 the flying antelope; and returned to their abodes 
 to dance, to sing, and to enjoy the charms of love. 
 The children, wandering through the airy fields, 
 plucked the waving cotton from the tree, and the 
 silken cones of the moth that hung in myriads in 
 the mulberry groves; and the fair damsels wrought 
 from them their elegant veils and vests, and dyed 
 them with many a brilliant stain. 
 
 It was delightful to gaze on these lovely dames. 
 A complexion of rich olive; large, dark, and ex- 
 
36 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 pressive eyes ; a firm, yet graceful form, were set 
 oiF by a tasteful simplicity of costume that could 
 only accord with a happy climate. A» silken veil, 
 folded artfully round the head, leaving the locks full 
 freedom to play upon the shoulders, and thrown 
 back over them, constituted their head-dress. A 
 pair of large pendant ear-rings glittering with gold 
 and their own jewelled light; bracelets of beaded 
 pearls, and long chains of the same, hung from the 
 neck over the silken bodice of purple, azure, or 
 bright yellow, wrought richly with silver flowers 
 and stars; a full skirt that descended little lower 
 than the knee, and anklets of twisted gold resting 
 upon feet that touched the warm ground in naked 
 beauty, completed their array. 
 
 As these fair creatures pursued their pleasant 
 labours, sitting beneath the trees in front of their 
 dwellings, the warriors would throw themselves on 
 the green turf around, and join them in songs which 
 had descended from the most ancient times. 
 
 They have no mode, or idea of recording their 
 poetry, or history; but, from age to age, a flood 
 of stirring traditions, and poems bearing along 
 with them the quaintness, fire, and simplicity of 
 
OF PANTIKA. 37 
 
 antiquity, has flowed from mouth to mouth, and 
 kept alive amongst them, a soaring and indomitable 
 spirit. They love their country with a passionate 
 love ; yet do they tell of thousands, who have gone 
 forth to fight, and to rule in other regions; and 
 they themselves will pour forth spontaneously, such 
 strains of living and glowing verse, as wonderfully 
 agitate the spirit; and the women will take up 
 those strains, and breathe, in the most melodious 
 voices, tones, and sentiments, so thrilling and 
 magical, that the soul is intoxicated with a strange 
 extravagance, and is ready to arise and rush on 
 danger to the death. 
 
 I accompanied the gallant mountaineers on a 
 hunting ex'pedition to the great sultry plains of the 
 south ; and beheld scenes of strange aspect. I saw 
 the ponderous hippopotamus stalking through the 
 towering reeds on the great river banks, and 
 plunging sullenly in the waters ; the gigantic 
 elephant roamed the forests ; stupendous serpents, 
 and creatures as cruel, as lithe, and gliding as they ; 
 the brindled tigers, wound amongst the tall grass 
 . and canes — the hunter's terror. God of gods ! 
 these regions hast thou evidently appointed to be 
 
38 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 the paradise of beasts. Thou hast crowned them 
 with a terrible beauty ; thou hast made their life 
 within them like a flaming fire, that, at a sound, a 
 motion, kindles up into magnificent rage, and men 
 tremble at their dreadfulness. To them are given 
 the solitary places of the earth, and many a splendid, 
 yet innocent creature, partakes their abode. I 
 beheld troops of peacocks ranging over the sultry 
 plains, spreading and shaking to the sun all the 
 pageantry of their gorgeous, starry trains. Troop 
 by troop, they swept by, like a sea of green and 
 purple, and rainbow dyes ; while amongst the forest 
 boughs, glanced glorious birds, scarlet, green, and 
 azure, of strange, quick aspects, and wondrous 
 cries. 
 
 But my object was not to linger amid pleasant 
 abodes. I hastened on. 1 ascended the mighty 
 northern mountains ; those dismal abodes of eternal 
 cold, and for a time bade adieu to all life but my 
 own. I advanced through regions of horrible 
 solitude, where clouds and tempests were cast far 
 below; where the silence itself was dreadful; 
 where every object — the dark, gigantic crag, the • 
 glittering plains, the rent and pitch-dark chasms. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 39 
 
 the icy path along the dizzy precipice, assumed 
 features of dreary awfuhiess. Nature seemed to 
 lift up the most terrific barriers to obstruct my 
 progress, and each night came with the visage of 
 sure destruction. I clambered through piercing 
 cold and darkness, along the only path which 
 offered, and that exhibited innumerable evidences 
 of its own savage character. Steeds and men, who 
 had, from year to year, sunk down and perished; 
 nay, the very vultures which came to prey upon 
 them, lay, fixed for ever, in crystal cerements of 
 ice ; and it seemed my fate to add one more to the 
 number. I was in the midst of darkness : cold 
 paralysed my weary limbs ; and sounds full of 
 fear and melancholy filled all the dolorous regions. 
 The thunder of rocks, split by the power of frost 
 from the mountain mass, ever and anon resounded 
 through the night ; and the wind, amid the chinks 
 and chasms of the cliffs, wailed like sad, but 
 malicious spirits. By marvellous good fortune, 
 which has often attended me, I at length escaped 
 from the terrible hills, and entered upon the great 
 Cuthean plains. 
 
 A mighty change of scenery was now before me. 
 
40 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 No longer a glowing climate ; mountains, fertile 
 hills, and flowery fields : but boundless plains, 
 white with saline incrustations ; brackish lakes, 
 and streams margined with glittering salt. Behind 
 me shone the great, snow-capped mountains ; 
 before me, an endless level, — here bare, here scat- 
 tered with a few saline plants, and here green with 
 patches of wild liquorice. A cool, fresh air braced 
 the frame, and filled the spirit with an elastic 
 buoyancy that bore me fleetly on. Anon, I beheld 
 a wide river winding through the desert, red as 
 gold in the mists of morning ; and as these mists 
 dispersed, I beheld the whole flat vale, clothed in 
 verdure of vividest green, and filled with troops of 
 wild, white horses. They descried me, and at 
 once, the whole were in motion — in flight ! A 
 shrill neigh rung around — a sound, as of thunder, 
 arose from the earth, beaten with a thousand hoofs, 
 and away dashed the strong, wild creatures, like a 
 sea of impetuous billows, — their flying manes and 
 tails, like snowy foam on its surface. Away ! 
 away ! drove the powerful and triumphant animals 
 — now wheeling and snorting in angry pride — 
 now pausing with uplifted heads, vapour-breathing 
 
OF PANTIKA. 41 
 
 nostrils, and bodies that quivered with the ex- 
 uberance of their animal life and winged velocity, 
 till lost in the dim, distant desert. Glorious 
 creatures ! who can behold them, nor long to 
 partake of their strength of heart, to rush through 
 the free wilderness like a meteor. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 But now a novel scene opened upon me. I found 
 myself at once transported into the theatre of war. 
 From the great southern mountains had descended 
 the Indian king. Ambition, that blind and yet 
 quick-sighted passion, blind to all it possesses, sharp 
 to discern the possessions of others, suffered him 
 not to rest in peace in his own immense territories; 
 a tenth of which he had never seen. His palace, or 
 his camp pavilion was his world, in which he had 
 all that pampered man can desire ; slaves, beauty, 
 wealth, wine, and adulation. His slaves ruled him 
 
42 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 with soft lies, and his provinces with hard steel and 
 stripes. He was satiated with the immediate 
 accomplishment of his wishes, yet he was not at 
 rest; he heard of nations that were free, and he 
 was indignant at the news ; he heard of the wealthy- 
 mountains of the Cutheans, and he instantly re- 
 solved to possess them. Accordingly, his armies 
 were put in motion ; men, steeds, and elephants in 
 thousands marched towards the northern hills. One 
 would have thought that the passage of those dread- 
 ful mountains would have cooled his ardour ; that 
 his men and animals sinking by hundreds daily, 
 cut down by excessive toils, by the rigorous cold 
 to which their tender, sun-cherished bodies were 
 totally strangers, by a variety of hardships and dif- 
 ficulties, would have softened his soul to pity, and 
 have induced him to march back to ease and plenty; 
 but ambition has no bowels of compassion. We 
 talk of the universal gifts of nature, but it is certain 
 that all her gifts are not universal ; some men are 
 born without consciences, and some without bowels 
 of compassion: to martial monarchs, men are but 
 so many targets, in which to fix their arrows when 
 they please. For mountains, and ice, and snow, 
 
OF PANTIKA. 43 
 
 and darkness, to cross the will of a great king, to 
 whom millions of men bowed themselves to the 
 dust, was enough to rouse the indignation of that 
 human idol which men worship, as savages worship 
 theirs — exactly in proportion as it is feeble and 
 bloody. He commanded the obstacles to be swept 
 away, and they were swept away ; and with them 
 the lives of some thousands of his followers. But 
 what matters it ? He saw it not ; he felt it not ; 
 his tent was as warm ; his couch as soft ; his wine 
 flowed as freely; his slaves bowed as low, and 
 praised his tender mercies as much as ever ; — so the 
 miserable victims of his royal will, were left to 
 bleach where they perished ; and many steeds and 
 elephants descended into the great Cuthean plains. 
 The mighty king, if he wished to possess the 
 country, might easily do it, for he found in it 
 neither men, beasts, nor abode. Before him, far as 
 the eye could reach, were empty, solitary plains ; 
 and when he had made six days' march, he still 
 beheld before him — vast, empty and solitary plains. 
 They might still march on — but for what ? There 
 appeared no enemy to fight, no people to subdue, 
 no emerald mountains to seize upon ; and having 
 
44 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 trusted to find a plentiful prey in the rich herds of 
 the Cutheans, the army stores had been small, and 
 now threatened famine. 
 
 The monarch was highly wroth on many accounts. 
 He was wroth that nothing was brought to eat, 
 when he commanded, except horse-flesh and the 
 roots of wild liquorice ; no, not even after he had 
 kicked the slaves out of his tent, and ordered the 
 head of the purveyor of his household to be struck 
 off. He was angry at the scouts and foragers, 
 because, instead of bringing tidings of flocks and 
 herds, they still brought only tidings of great plains; 
 "and he was angry because there were men in the 
 world who presumed to be free ; and because na- 
 ture mocked at his magnificent impotence. Back, 
 therefore, rolled the Indian multitudes ; —men, 
 steeds, and elephants, towards the Caucasian hills. 
 But now the scene changed ! Behind them, on the 
 distant horizon, suddenly appeared a black cloud, 
 which poured down, not rain, but men. Like a 
 hail, they came whirling along, battering, cutting 
 down, and layhig waste all before them. They 
 harassed the rear of the Indian army terribly : and 
 when it turned to oppose them, galled it not less 
 
OF PANTIKA. 45 
 
 in front. The homeward march was kept up ; for 
 famine in the camp admitted of no pause ; but 
 when they caught sight of the Caucasian moun- 
 tains, they saw also, at the same time, another hos- 
 tile army, posted between themselves and the hills. 
 It was just at this crisis that I came upon the 
 scene ; and a new and most animated one it was. 
 In the middle of the plain was seen the great 
 Indian camp, — its thousands of tents glittering in 
 the sun, with all their barbaric colours ; in which 
 red, yellow, and white predominated. Around 
 were seen drawn out, its innumerable warriors, 
 conspicuous by their dark forms, vests of cotton, 
 and feathered tiaras; — here the elephants, shewing 
 their gigantic bodies amongst them, covered with 
 scarlet cloths, bordered with rich yellow fringe, and 
 with bells and tassels of gold ; and bearing on their 
 backs, canopied cars filled with archers. Here rows 
 of glittering war-chariots, files of cavalry ; and all 
 the vast intervals between them bristled with the 
 spears of countless infantry. Beneath the moun- 
 tains stood the battalions of the mountaineers ; so 
 posted, as evidently to shew their intention to 
 defend the defiles, and prevent the return of the 
 army. 
 
46 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 North of the camp, shone the Cuthean chivalry, 
 — a host of fine, active men, clad in close woollen 
 vests ; on their heads, brazen helmets; and mounted 
 on impetuous white horses, that, as they pawed 
 the ground in impatience, flashed to the sun their 
 trappings and the breast-plates of brass, with which 
 they were armed. Brass, either from partiality or 
 necessity, appeared the common metal of the Cu- 
 theans, — of it were the heads of their arrows and 
 javelins made. 
 
 The Indian army deemed it necessary to dis- 
 perse these equestrian troops before it attacked 
 the mountaineers, that they might not disturb its 
 rear during the engagement. Therefore, at the 
 sound of trumpet, kettledrum, and cymbal, forth 
 spurred some thousands of Indian horse toward 
 the Cutheans. These stood silent, as awaiting the 
 onset, till the Indians came within javelin -throw; 
 when suddenly they wheeled, as panic-struck, and 
 fled northward before the enemy. The Indians 
 raised a yell of triumph, and pursued with light- 
 ning speed. It was a glorious sight to see, that 
 chase of innumerable numbers ! — the white steeds 
 that flew like the wind; the glittering brazen 
 
OF PANTIKA. 47 
 
 appointments of the Cutheans; and the pursuing 
 many-coloured Indian horsemen. Far over the 
 plains they flew. The Indians were all on the 
 stretch of eager curiosity. From the chariots, 
 from the elephant-towers, protruded innumerable 
 heads, following the flying pageant with devouring 
 eyes of wonder and delight. But at once, when 
 the horse were in the very horizon, suddenly was 
 seen a pause — a stir — a confusion : suddenly it was 
 discerned, that the Cuthean cavalry had wheeled 
 right and left, with incredible velocity, and had 
 thrown themselves into the rear of the Indian file. 
 In a moment, these warriors found themselves, not 
 in the rear of a flying enemy, but in the centre of 
 furious troops, that poured in, on all sides, a tem- 
 pest of blinding and destructive arrows. The 
 white horses of the desert, with flying manes, dis- 
 tended nostrils, and red fiery eyes, rearing on the 
 astonished Indians, struck them down, tore them 
 from their seats with their terrible mouths, while 
 their riders smote right and left with their brazen 
 javelins. A little time, and the whole Indian 
 squadron must be annihilated. The tumult was 
 seen from the Indian camp ; a salutary fear pos- 
 
48 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 sessed tlie king, and fresh horsemen galloped 
 forth to support the first, and these were followed 
 by the chariots, — these by the infantry. But 
 scarcely had they set forth, when a troop of Cu- 
 thean horse was seen careering towards them, from 
 the eastern and western extremities of the battle. 
 They came, shaking the ground with the thunder 
 of their horses' hoofs. Immediately they were at 
 hand; but, instead of closing with the advancing 
 Indians, they scoured past, like a hurrying tem- 
 pest; shot in their faces a shower of arrows, and 
 were gone. The Indians, warned by what had 
 before befallen their fellows, attempted not to 
 pursue; but, gazing for a moment of confusion 
 and wonder on the multitude of their slaifi, ad- 
 vanced towards the distant battle. But again 
 came the careering Cutheans, and, by a second 
 passing volley, committed equal havoc. The 
 Indian horse, confounded and thrown into disorder, 
 yet attempted to hold on ; but now they saw, at 
 once, a wonderful change in the scene of contest. 
 That which the moment before, was like the dark 
 and terrible cloud of a tempest, — now, like a tem- 
 pest cloud, dispersed and was gone. The shouts, 
 
OF PANTIKA. 49 
 
 the struggling, the clash and flash of arms was 
 hushed, and the white horses of the Cutheans were 
 seen vanishing on the horizon. The Indians 
 knew not what to think of it: they paused and 
 gazed for a few moments ; then, advancing to the 
 scene of action, beheld all their advanced detach- 
 ment lying in one promiscuous heap of slaughter. 
 The whole were destroyed, — the foe departed. 
 
 At this intelligence, terror and astonishment flew 
 through the Indian camp ; but the king was seized 
 with a paroxysm of ungovernable rage. Day was 
 declining; yet could he scarcely restrain himself 
 from ordering a pursuit of the Cutheans. Reason 
 would have said, — What avails pursuing so wild 
 and fugitive a foe ? what avails attempting the 
 conquest of barren plains ? Humanity would have 
 said, — Look on the slain, and depart : evil enough 
 is done : crime enough committed ; return, and 
 repent of the useless waste of human life; — but 
 reason and humanity have nothing to do with great 
 monarchs, — rage is more becoming ; men are 
 merely moving machines, made to be cut down — 
 he ordered the march at break of day. Day came : 
 the whole immense and unwieldy multitude again 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 set out : again they toiled slowly, heavily, — con- 
 sumed with thirst, for the waters were saline, — 
 faint with famine, through immeasurable plains. 
 Again they were on the point of returning, for no 
 foe, no habitation appeared : — when, behold ! the 
 gleam of brazen accoutrements ! the white horses 
 coming, like the billows of a stormy ocean, rushing-, 
 raging onwards. They were speedily at hand, 
 dashing, with wild cries, along the Indian lines, 
 pouring in millions of arrows. The whole Indian 
 army was in confusion. Against such a foe, the 
 chariots were useless ; the infantry equally so ; 
 they wheeled here and there, now appearing to be 
 gone, — now again returning, and charging with 
 terrible destruction. Arrows mowed down the 
 charioteers, — if horsemen advanced, the foe against 
 whom they directed their charge, dispersed — fled — 
 and again gathering, came from some other quarter 
 — some sending arrows as they passed, — some with 
 long, flying nooses, dragging the riders from their 
 steeds, and dashing them to pieces with the hoofs 
 of those furious white horses. 
 
 What could combat with such a foe avail ? The 
 king, enraged to madness, made many charges on 
 
OF PANTIKA. 51 
 
 the foe, and beheld himself in all, baffled and con- 
 founded. His troops, unused to such volant 
 antagonists, could give no effect to their arms. 
 At once he commanded the army to retreat ; and, 
 followed by the Cuthean cavalry, like a determined 
 swarm of demons, charged with all the fury and 
 the weight of the whole army upon the moun- 
 taineers. They stood and fought like lions; but 
 the Indian army bore down heavily ; dreadful was 
 the slaughter. The brave men were mowed, and 
 crushed down by the ever-pressing host, that, with 
 tremendous force drove the front on death, or 
 deliverance. With dreadful fury the mountaineers, 
 climbing on the ramparts of dead, fought, till some 
 wounded elephants at length broke through them, 
 sweeping them down by hundreds. They dispersed ! 
 and the Indian army, a horrible mass of terror and 
 confusion, men and beasts crushing and treading 
 down each other, escaped into the defile. 
 
 Scarcely had the Indians disappeared in the hills, 
 when a new scene exhibited itself. A whole army 
 of wagons, drawn by oxen, and followed by 
 women and children, flocks and herds, came over 
 the plains. The cavalry, dismounting, threw loose 
 
 UBRARY 
 
 mnmjY OF tumfss 
 
52 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 their steeds to graze where they pleased ; embraced 
 their wives, and proceeded to join them in strip- 
 ping and burying the dead. In a day, what had 
 been the seat of war, was a populous country. 
 Fearing no return of the Indians, they again struck 
 their tents, and quitting the plains polluted by 
 slaughter, and trodden by the combatants, advanced 
 to more fertile fields. 
 
 The Indian monarch proceeded through the 
 mountains, sullen and wrathful : and now he came 
 upon a part where he determined to let loose his 
 struggling passions; and satiate his soul with a 
 mighty revenge. There was a beautiful valley in 
 the midst of the mountains, inhabited by a pastoral, 
 yet warlike nation. It was surrounded on all sides 
 by hills ; and a single river, rising westward, watered 
 it. The inhabitants had composed part of the army 
 of brave mountaineers which had opposed the return 
 of the Indians : therefore the king doomed them to 
 destruction; and, as their valley was of no great 
 extent, he deemed his purpose easy of execution. 
 He ordered his troops to take possession of all the 
 passes in the surrounding heights ; and having done 
 this, he marched the rest of his army right through 
 
OF PANTIKA. 53 
 
 the valley, from end to end. He descended from 
 
 •» 
 the hills like an avalanehe, which nothing can stop 
 
 — which sweeps all before it. He passed through it 
 
 with fire and sword. It was vain for the inhabitants, 
 
 few in number, compared with his myriads, to stand 
 
 against him ; they fled to the hills. But here again 
 
 the king's troops met them, and drove them back. 
 
 They turned, and beheld the Indian army coming 
 
 in the strength and exercise of that martial power 
 
 which, if exerted by devils, would be called by its 
 
 right name; but which constitutes the glory of 
 
 kings ; a race of beings, whom men have, at once, 
 
 made their idols and their punishment. They 
 
 beheld their pleasant groves stoop to the axe of 
 
 the pioneers; their habitations kindled to flames 
 
 by their hands; their fertile fields and gardens 
 
 laid waste and trodden down by thousands, till 
 
 all was one black and lifeless waste. The flocks 
 
 and herds were collected and driven ofi"; and 
 
 they themselves, anticipating their fate, came forth 
 
 from their hiding-places, and prepared to sell their 
 
 lives as creatures driven to desperation do. But 
 
 such was not the monarch's good pleasure. Having 
 
 made the late beautiful valley a black desert, he 
 
54 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 drew up with his troops into the hills, and sate down 
 to watch the progress of his royal views. By de- 
 grees the inhabitants, urged by hunger, came forth. 
 They looked around them — all was silence and 
 desolation. They traversed the land, seeking care- 
 fully in every nook, amidst the ruins of yet-smoking 
 houses, for some fragment of food to still the cries 
 of clamorous children ; to appease the sufferings of 
 their languishing wives and daughters : but it was 
 in vain. The human monsters had destroyed every 
 thing capable of sustaining life with the most per- 
 fect exactness. They had completed their task in 
 the most masterly manner, and, no doubt, would 
 receive^the highest praises of the historians of the 
 war. The wretched creatures, on this discovery, 
 were filled with the most fearful dismay. Female 
 misery vented itself in cries, tears, and tremblings ; 
 that of men in silent despair. For a while they sate 
 stern — still — ^and with their eyes on the ground: 
 then raising them, and turning them on each other, 
 a fury kindled in them that rose to a terrible height. 
 They sprang up, — vowed the most dreadful vows ; 
 swore on each other's swords, tinctured with their 
 own blood, to assail the enemy to the death ; and, 
 
OF PANTIKA. 55 
 
 once more, they bent their united force towards one 
 of the mountain passes. They ascended; night 
 favoured them ; they fell upon the sentinels ; slew 
 them ; and, for a moment, fortune seemed to second 
 their enterprise. But speedily the enemy in end- 
 less numbers came swarming to the spot; innu- 
 merable fires blazed out upon the heights, shewing 
 the desperate men to their foes, and exposing them 
 to all their power. From above poured tempests 
 of arrows ; huge stones were hurled down, which 
 whirling and bounding along the hollow where the 
 mountaineers were assembled, cleared their way, 
 dashing men to pieces by hundreds in their course ; 
 and rushed headlong, smoking to the valley. Yet 
 did these desperate men strain towards the height, 
 with the hearts and the visages of lions. Death 
 was before them whichever way they turned; and 
 death mingled with vengeance, seemed something 
 even sweet. Therefore, in defiance of arrows, 
 javelins, down-thundering rocks, and flaming trunks 
 of trees which came whizzing and rebounding from 
 above, they pressed on with flashing daggers, and 
 fearful yells, and eyes that flung back the flames 
 with a terrible expression. From the heights 
 
56 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 around protruded tens of thousands of dark heads, 
 seen amid the redness of the fires, gazing upon the 
 scene with abundant satisfaction. 
 
 All night was the horrible and unequal contest 
 maintained: when morning dawned, numbers of 
 the unhappy mountaineers clogged the defile with 
 their bodies : and the Indians, descending in a dense, 
 continuous column from the heights, swept away 
 the remaining combatants, as a flood would have 
 swept them away. Most perished ; the rest, yield- 
 ing to the weakness of overtried nature, returned to 
 the valley, or crawled into the neighbouring thickets 
 and crevices of the rocks. The sun rose higher, 
 and with it the tide of human suffering. Faint by 
 the river brink sate the women, striving to alleviate 
 the craving agonies of their children by cooling po- 
 tations of water, themselves taking patient draughts 
 of the same, to relieve their burning, parched 
 throats. Fatal, yet not unhappy draughts ! The 
 sole river of their once happy valley was poisoned — 
 poisoned at its source — poisoned with those virulent, 
 sure, and enduring juices which the Indians are so 
 well acquainted with. 
 
 Scarcely had they swallowed the infected water, 
 
OF PANTIKA. 57 
 
 when both mothers and chiklren shrieked with 
 dreadful shrieks, and rolled on the ground in terrible 
 agonies. They rolled and writhed to and fro ; be- 
 came covered with large, livid, or crimson spots, 
 swelled hideously, — blackened and died. They 
 who were about to taste of the fatal river, recoiled 
 at the sight, and ran to a distance. But whither 
 could they go ? They beheld the remaining warriors 
 return; they heard the doleful tidings, and filled 
 the air with their wild lamentations. For some time 
 they wandered about, filling the valley with the cries 
 of despair ; but nature gave way to her own tempta- 
 tions ; the .sight of the clear, gushing river was too 
 alluring, even with the dreadful evidence of its 
 effects before their eyes : — again they rushed 
 towards it; sprang in — rolled in its waves, gazed 
 on it with fearful, yet devouring eyes ; — drank, and 
 died. 
 
 From the heights, the Indian monarch beheld 
 this scene of misery with singular satisfaction. He 
 watched and waited like a vulture, while there 
 remained the smallest symptom of life in the black 
 and torrid vale ; and, as the fumes of the putri- 
 fying carcasses began to taint the winds, and ascend 
 d3 
 
58 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 to his nostrils, lie sounded his trumpets, and 
 marched homewards, somewhat consoled for his 
 defeat and disasters. 
 
 I had occupied a cleft in a rock, to behold this 
 direful deed; to see what nature was capable of: 
 and "Almighty Avenger!" I exclaimed, "canst 
 thou behold and suffer this ?" He did not ! With 
 the putrifying fumes, rose the pestilence; and 
 striking into the path of the savage monarch, pur- 
 sued him on his march. Fierce, terrible, wide- 
 sweeping were its destructions ; more fierce, more 
 destroying than the arrows, the javelins, the pre- 
 cipitated rocks of the Indians. With its silent 
 u-ings it hovered over the devoted army, that 
 hurried fearfully on, — and spread all the mountains 
 with its dead. 
 
 I have since heard, that it pursued the haughty 
 king even into his own land, and spread through 
 the provinces which he traversed; into his popu- 
 lous cities; and slew more in its course than he 
 had destroyed by the strength of his cruelty. 
 Fearful and indignant, the people rose, and drove 
 forth into the wide, waste field, an army that 
 brought back, instead of victory and wealth, such 
 
OF PANTIKA. 59 
 
 a baleful gift. There they fell, in their lawless 
 rage, on the flocks and herds of the countrymen, 
 who turned in wrath upon them. There arose a 
 dreadful and exterminating warfare. The peasants 
 prevailed, — the soldiers, driven to despair, plunged 
 their swords into each other's hearts, and they and 
 their king perished together. Thus does God 
 punish what foolish man praises to his own cost. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Strengthened in heart by such a display of a 
 watchful and retributive Providence, I went on. 
 A plain of a different character now presented 
 itself. It was sandy, and covered with a thin crop 
 of pale yellow grass, tall as the knee, and so dry 
 that it whistled and sighed in the wind. Above, 
 the sun shone mildly; and fleecy clouds, driven 
 swiftly across the sky, created on the plain rapidly- 
 sweeping shadows. Here and there, ran along 
 slight elevations; and a few scattered trees af- 
 
60 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 forded pleasant objects to the eye, and shade to 
 shepherds, who there watched large flocks. 
 
 At a distance, I beheld a thick and confused 
 mass of building, closely intermingled with trees ; 
 and I sate down by a shepherd, and asked what 
 the object was. " It is," he replied, ^' an ancient 
 city, — a city whose name no man pronounces ; but 
 we call it the City of Fear. But a few generations 
 ago, there dwelt a warlike and populous people, 
 whose king, Huoftnec, had subjugated the coun- 
 tries from the southern mountains far to the north, 
 ay, even to the Gomerian land of darkness. 
 Numerous nations poured into the city their tri- 
 bute, — flocks and herds, steeds for their iron war- 
 chariots and their horsemen, gold and jewels from 
 the rich. Hyperborean hills ; and the people be- 
 came proud, luxurious, insolent, and cruel. The 
 cries of oppression rose in many a province, but 
 they could not penetrate the city,— they were 
 drowned in the noise of perpetual revelry. 
 
 There came a prophet from some far land. He 
 advanced towards the city ; and as he went along, 
 wrapped in his long robe, with his head and feet 
 bare, the rural people did him reverence, and knelt 
 
OF PANTIKA. 61 
 
 at his feet for a blessing. He reached the city ; and 
 at once, his voice, loud as the brazen trumpet of the 
 king, rose above the hum of many idle and jocular 
 voices in the thronged streets ; and struck through 
 all the airy gossipers a chill silence. He trod on 
 with a lofty, but slow step, crying — " Repentance ! 
 or death ! " Through street, through gay square, 
 past palace and temple, he went on, crying that 
 solemn cry. The people gathered about him, — 
 gazed on him with fearful faces, — and followed, in 
 thousands^ at his heels. At length he came before 
 the royal abode. The king sate in his brazen 
 chariot, and saw his glittering troops perform their 
 martial movements before him. He turned, looked 
 sternly on the coming throng, and, at a motion 
 from his hand, a soldier spurred his steed from his 
 presence into the midst of the press, and ordered 
 the stranger to approach the imperial throne. He 
 advanced, but not as a suppliant; nor suffering 
 himself to be touched by the soldier. He waved 
 his hand with a majestic motion, and strode 
 forward with an air that daunted the fiercest 
 warriors, and made the monarch himself look on 
 him with amaze. Again he lifted up his hand, and 
 
62 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 cried — " Repentance ! or death ! " The king and 
 his warriors stood mute and thouglitful; when, 
 behold ! the priests came hurrying on with wikl 
 and eager eyes ; and, glaring on the stranger with 
 ferocious glances, called upon the king to punish 
 him as a vile impostor, that sought to blaspheme 
 the gods, to disturb the people, and bring into 
 contempt the victorious glory of the king. The 
 potentate raised his eyes, and cried to the priests 
 — "Be it as ye will!" They pounced on him, 
 like vultures in their prey, and bore him 'off to the 
 temple of Bal-Rama, followed by the shouting and 
 changeful multitude. They smote him to death 
 in the temple of their god ; and all that day, and 
 far into the night, loud were the sounds of festive 
 rejoicing — the mingled din of cymbal, and tabor 
 and horn ; but in the morning, when the country 
 people, who supplied the city with daily, rural 
 necessaries, entered the gates with their mules, all 
 was still as midnight : and, anon, they returned, 
 rushing from the gates, like men mad with some 
 terrible vision. Their eyes glared aghast; every 
 feature fixed in strong terror; — they ran, — and ran 
 far over the plains as men run for their liv^es. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 63 
 
 From that day, they approached not the city; no 
 one approached it; no one dared to tell what had 
 befallen within ; but it stood silent — silent for ever ; 
 and has fallen gradually to decay. Who dare 
 approach it? Terrible sounds, shrill cries, howl- 
 ings as of evil spirits, are continually heard within 
 it ; and wings, as of harpies, are often .seen flapping 
 above its now weed-grown walls. Its very aspect, 
 as thou seest, is baleful. We avoid it, and never 
 approach nearer than this." 
 
 "Dare ye not enter it?" I exclaimed; "then I 
 will ! " As I pronounced these words, the shep- 
 herd started, as from a basilisk; gazed upon me 
 with superstitious terror ; and when I advanced 
 towards the ancient city, hastily collected his flocks, 
 and drove them far over the plain. I approached 
 the place, and truly its aspect was enough to inspire 
 a superstitious awe. Its old and massy gates were 
 sunk by age half into the ground. They leaned 
 hither and thither, disrupted from the ponderous 
 walls, between which and them gaped huge chasms. 
 The walls themselves leaned variously ; here, over- 
 hanging the plain ; here, inclining to the city : and 
 huge drifts of sand had, in others, fairly buried 
 
64 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 them, forming an inclined plane, by which you 
 might ascend, and look into the melancholy place. 
 
 1 passed through the ruinous gates, and beheld 
 before me a wood mingled with buildings. Trees 
 had grown up throughout the city; — they had 
 grown to colossal vastness ; here, heaving up pave- 
 ments and foundations by their huge roots and 
 trunks ; here, pushing down, by their extended 
 arms, the strongest walls. Close within the gates, 
 had stood two enormous statues. The one, a 
 Titanian man, with a long and bushy beard, and 
 holding in his right hand a serpent by way of a 
 staff: the other, a female of equal height, holding 
 in one hand a ring of stone ; in the other, a small 
 winged figure. The man, or god, stood erect and 
 stern; the female was pushed back by a mighty 
 branch of a tree, and leaned against the wall. 
 
 The pavement whereon I walked was overgrown 
 with a matting of creeping plants, whose long, 
 wiry runners, knit closely together, formed a damp 
 and melancholy carpet. As I trode upon it, some- 
 thing long and cylindrical rolled beneath my feet, 
 and made my progress unsteady. I turned aside 
 the creepers, and beheld that they were bones; — 
 
OF PANTIKA. 65 
 
 bones in millions strewed through the long, solitary- 
 streets, — the bones of men, shrouded alone by this 
 green tapestry-work of nature; and in the skulls, 
 and within the naked ribs, numberless reptiles had 
 made their nests. I strode forward in shuddering 
 horror. I reeled to and fro, over the loose remains 
 of destroyed thousands. But other objects of fear- 
 ful wonder called my attention. From the thickets 
 and hollows of the broken walls darted forth, at my 
 approach, the jackal ; the long, gliding tiger 
 glared upon me with fiery eyes, — -grinned fiercely, 
 and fled. The heavy bear growled hoarsely, — 
 dashed through the crashing branches, clambered 
 over the loose ruins, and disappeared. I found it 
 was a dreadful place to abide in; but my curiosity 
 lured me on. 
 
 As I neared the centre of the city, the bones 
 beneath my feet became continually more thickly 
 spread; till, in an open square, they covered the 
 whole area in heaps, and the shrouding creepers 
 could but partially cover them : — they gleamed by 
 intervals in bleached whiteness. I advanced, and 
 beheld the crumbled remains of a massy chariot, 
 and upon it lay glittering — a sight of wonder — a 
 
66 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 glorious jewelled diadem ! lay glittering on a heap 
 of bones, which, as I touched them, crumbled into 
 dust. Around were readily discernible, amid the 
 heaps, the brazen heads of spears, swords, and 
 harness of man and horse ; the skeletons of whole 
 platoons of steeds and their riders ! Could there 
 be a doubt of the place, and the event which oc- 
 curred there ? It was the spot where some awful 
 judgment had annihilated both king and people in 
 the hour of their impious pride. I turned away, 
 soul-struck at the terrible dispensations of heaven. 
 Around me were the roofless walls of temples, 
 palaces, and thousands of private abodes ; but trees 
 stood in their innermost apartments, — bushes 
 waved from their summits and crevices, and long 
 creeping plants hung down from sculptured arches. 
 I trod over heaps of ruins, and beheld amid them 
 the gekko — the most hideous and venomous of 
 reptiles — start forth at my feet. I saw its large 
 lizard form, — its green clammy body, studded with 
 ugly vermilion warts: I saw its throat inflated with 
 its malignant poison; and its claws, distilling as 
 they went, a loathsome, yellow virus, so acrid that 
 it blistered the very grass and leaves over which it 
 
OF PANTIKA. 67 
 
 passed. Horrible creature ! I shuddered at its 
 repeated cry — the sound of its own baleful name — 
 and trod with hesitating steps through the confused 
 place. 
 
 An ancient temple was before me. I knew it 
 for the dome of Bal-Rama. On its walls were 
 sculptured many an Arkite symbol; — the ship of 
 Argha, — the fierce Typhonean serpent, — the flying 
 dove, — the golden mundane egg, in which the 
 Great Father floated in divine dreams over the 
 universal waters, — the spirit-wings that bear the 
 orbicular world through the ethereal wastes of 
 eternity. I entered : it was gloomy and vast ; its 
 roof of pyramidal stone had resisted the eff'ects of 
 time. Thick dust lay on the floor, in which the 
 feet left their impressions, as in snow ; seeming 
 as if it had not been disturbed for ages ; and a faint 
 cadaverous odour pervaded the whole dusky fane. I 
 looked up, and beheld enormous bats hanging by 
 their lank legs from the roof; and the round, 
 green-fire eyes of owls, that opened and shut with a 
 strange, demoniac effect. The skeletons of nu- 
 merous small creatures lay on the floor, thin as 
 bents of grass, and light as withered leaves : but a 
 more striking object arrested my attention. 
 
68 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 I beheld the pedestal where the great idol had 
 stood ; but it was unoccupied : and, behold ! on 
 the ground beneath it, lay a heap of dust. I could 
 discern the colours of blue and vermilion which had 
 once adorned the perished god, but at my touch 
 they crumbled to powder; and the large, golden 
 horns, alone lay fresh and glittering as ever. 
 Around were numerous skeletons in a confused 
 circle, and one in the midst, between whose ribs 
 yet lay the green remains of a brazen poniard — the 
 priests and their prophet-victim ! A dark and 
 trembling awe fell on me ; — my limbs failed ; — 
 my eyes grew dim ; — I dropped on my knees, and 
 adored the unseen, but mighty Power, who had 
 thus signally made known his being, and anni- 
 hilated, at a stroke, a great people in the hour of 
 their impious triumph. When I had gathered 
 together a little of the force of mind and frame, 
 I stole soberly out of the fallen city ; and pursued 
 my way, filled with a multitude of dark and bright 
 thoughts. The shepherds, who beheld me return, 
 fled as I attempted to approach them ; holding me, 
 doubtless, for some dubious, or unearthly being. 
 
OF PANTIKA. 69 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 I had a great desire to see something of the Cuthean 
 tribes in their peaceful habitations; I, therefore, 
 now turned my steps northward, and went far into 
 their lands. Of these I speak not now; I have 
 already recorded these things. One circumstance 
 only I cannot pass, for with it are connected the 
 sweetest and bitterest events of my life. There I 
 found a friend ! Yes, there where I looked not 
 for it, I found a soul which I could take to my soul, 
 and love as my own ; and go on, from day to day, 
 rejoicing in the unity of our tastes, and the excur- 
 sive exercise of our intellects. As I entered one 
 evening a Cuthean tent, I beheld a youth of a garb 
 and aspect different to that people. I looked at him, 
 and deemed him the noblest youth I had ever seen. 
 Tall, finely proportioned, full of vigour and activity, 
 he appeared made to endure the fatigues, and enjoy 
 the pleasures of the earth, and, unscathed by the 
 one or the other, to still go on in gladness. I saw 
 
70 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 that he also regarded me with looks of curiosity 
 and interest ; and, in the course of the eve, as we 
 sate round the fire, and talked of many matters, and 
 I had unfolded to the hospitable family somewhat of 
 my wanderings and views, he suddenly leaped up, 
 clasped me to his heart, and exclaimed, " I have 
 found a spirit like my own!" I was much asto- 
 nished, but I was much rejoiced; for I had regarded 
 him with continually increasing admiration. He 
 forthwith related his own story. He was a native 
 of the city of Bahlk, in the southern hill-country. 
 A like spirit to my own had disturbed him in his 
 native place. He had gone through many lands in 
 quest of knowledge. As we sate and compared 
 our individual experience, our thoughts, adven- 
 tures, and speculations on man and his destiny, — 
 our joy continually grew higher and higher, and 
 the good people of the tent sate and gazed on us 
 in wonder. All night we sate and conversed, and 
 in the earliest dawn, departed. Together we 
 travelled far northward, and I daily found my heart 
 bound up closer with that of Lodemmil. I found 
 that the same desire of seeing men of many 
 nations ; the same belief in the existence of some 
 
OF PANTIKA. 71 
 
 great original truth, possessed him as myself: but 
 what constituted at once, the failing, and the crown- 
 ing charm of his character, was an inexpressible 
 indignation and contempt of the base and bloody 
 arts of priest and rulers. What glowing and noble 
 sentiments ! what eloquent expositions of his faith 
 and soaring desires have I heard him pour forth, 
 as we trode, side by side, like two gods in our 
 soul's joyful strength, through strange regions ! 
 Much ancient knowledge was preserved and culti- 
 vated in his native city, and he had made it all his 
 own. It was to me a source of triumphant delight, 
 that in far separate countries, in hidden and soli- 
 tary places of the earth, the same aspiring thoughts 
 and sensations were agitating the human heart. 
 It declared to me that they sprung from one 
 source, — the unseen soul of the power that made us. 
 We were now in the land of the northern 
 Magogians — a people rude in aspect and in life. 
 In winter, they wrapped themselves in sheep- 
 skins, — an uncouth and grotesque generation. In 
 their short summers, they threw off their savage 
 array, and appeared only in a short shirt of varied 
 colours ; their bodies painted with stars, serpents, 
 
72 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 and strange beasts of blue and red ; bearing in a 
 belt of hide, a stone hatchet ; and in their hands, a 
 bow and arrows, whose barbs were also of stone. 
 War and the chase, were their employments. 
 
 One night, as we passed along a tract of rugged 
 hills, scattered with huge blocks of stone, over 
 which the western wind drove the flying mists and 
 clouds; and the moonlight, the moving shadows, 
 and the moaning gale, gave the whole scene a sad 
 wildness ; we came upon one of those stupendous 
 circles of great stones which are found in various 
 regions, but especially in the north. Many had 
 we seen, but this surpassed them all ; we therefore 
 turned in to contemplate it. To our astonishment, 
 we saw a figure seated by the great central stone, 
 that, amid all its wildness, still appeared human. 
 As we approached, it arose, and we beheld a man 
 naked, except that the hairy skin of a beast 
 was bound round his loins by a dried serpent. 
 His face was pale, his features prominent and 
 ghastly, — his eyes hollow, yet lit with a strange 
 wild fire ; and his black haggard locks, hung matted 
 about his neck. " Who art thou?" we cried. And 
 he answered, "Who am I? — I am Baldoc, the 
 
OF PANTIKA. 73 
 
 friend of the gods ! I have wandered over tlie 
 earth to see whether the nations honour their 
 shrines. I liave gone far to the west, over the 
 great mountains, through the great black forests, 
 across the great waters, into the isles at the end of 
 the world ; and in them all, the great god Hu is 
 worshipped as he ought. Now am I bound to Ind ; 
 for the world comes to an end. Yes, you smile ! 
 So have I seen men smile, when I have proclaimed 
 the same truth in the very hour of destruction. 
 But you shall soon behold my words verified. 
 What ! have I not lived — do we not all live, in one 
 course of the world as in another ? Nature is fixed : 
 the world dies and revives — but nothing can change. 
 I have but lately seen the great, wailing Nath de- 
 scend, as I have seen him descend in former worlds 
 — with his woful countenance, black flying locks 
 — his dark, funereal robe. I saw him go from land 
 to land, from town to town, wringing his hands, 
 dropping his tears on the earth, and crying, in the 
 lamentable voice which sends into the hearts of all 
 that hear him an incurable woe — " The end ! the 
 end is come ! " Yes ! the end ! the end is come ! 
 He will speedily absorb all things into his own 
 
 VOL. I E 
 
74 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 being — his wife, his sons, all living creatures, all 
 seas, all forests, all lands; and, wrapped in the 
 sleep of ages, he shall sail in his serpent bark on 
 the endless waters. We cannot avoid it — the God 
 cannot himself do otherwise ; but we may strengthen 
 and refresh our spirits for the mighty time !" 
 
 With that he arose with a wild and inspired air ; 
 and, in an erect and solemn attitude, marched 
 through one of the doorways formed of the huge 
 stones which surround the circle of Hela. Out 
 he passed at one, in at another, crying with im- 
 mense satisfaction, at every transit, — " Oh divine \ 
 divine refreshment ! It falls on my spirit like the 
 dew of the sacred mount. Again, and again, am 
 I regenerated, and purified, and filled with strength 
 for my great trial ! " With that he passed away in 
 the gloom, and was gone. 
 
 " Go ; thou poor maniac-victim of dark supersti- 
 T:ions!" exclaimed Lodemmil. " Seest thou," 
 he said, " the daily effects of the black arts of the 
 priests?" We went on; and as day fully broke, 
 we descried immense numbers of people all directing 
 their course to an elevated part of the wilderness. 
 It was a lofty plain, rising to a, considerable height 
 
OF PANTIKA. /O 
 
 in the centre, and commanding extensive views 
 over a savage country. Vast masses of rock were 
 thrown as by a giant hand, and lay in heaps on the 
 heath, giving a most rude and chaotic aspect to the 
 place. Here and there, great square blocks of it 
 lay apart, half buried in the spongy moss and wild 
 fern. On the top of a large, solid rock we beheld 
 a stupendous stone, which appeared as balanced on 
 a point, and moved to and fro with the breeze. 
 Around this were assembled thousands of those wild 
 people with looks of deepest awe. On it they fixed 
 their eyes, fearfully and stedfastly ; and at length, 
 as if of its own accord, or moved by some invisible 
 power, it began to rock to and fro violently, and 
 with a sound as of low thunder, amid which might 
 be heard the mutterings of a deep, unearthly voice. 
 At once, the whole multitude fell upon their faces ; 
 and an aged figure with hoary, flowing beard, and 
 long, loose robe, rose, as out of the ground, and 
 lifting up his hands, cried, — " Honour the God 
 with an acceptable gift!" Instantly the people 
 sprang upon their feet, and gazed upon a dark cre- 
 vice in the neighbouring rocks, whence soon ap- 
 peared a band of those old and robed priests bearing 
 
76 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 a young virgin bound. My heart sickened at the 
 sight, for she was young, and tender, and fair ; but 
 the multitude began to dance ; and in a low singing 
 tone to cry, " Hu ! Hu ! Ewah !" I saw1;he maid 
 extended, already apparently half dead with terror, 
 on a large stone; — I saw the hand of the hoary 
 priest, armed with a heavy stone poniard, raised to 
 the sun, lo which he seemed pouring out his orisons, 
 — and I turned away, lest I should witness the 
 murderous deed. As we went, we still heard the 
 loud and melancholy song, " Hu ! Hu ! Ewah!" 
 and it added wings to our speed. 
 
 Sick of blood and darkness, we hastened from 
 the north. The light which we sought was not 
 there ; and, through a long period we sought it in 
 lands where it was as little to be found : in the 
 populous, but servile-spirited Tzin ; in the pleasant 
 islands of the great South Sea, where nature has 
 constructed a thousand paradises in the midst of the 
 crystal waters ; where the people dwell amid fruits, 
 and flowers, and richest spices, but are contented 
 to feed their souls on the fragments of the far-spread 
 Sabean superstitions. At length, a trading ship of 
 Ormuz landed us in thetTnrieht India, and we looked 
 
OF PANTIKA. 77 
 
 with anxious hope for some traces of the earliest 
 knowledge. 
 
 Let my former tomes speak of the mighty cities ; 
 the marvellous caves; the wealth, the arts and 
 manners of this ancient people : I am too sadly bound 
 to one event. We hoped, 1 said, to find traces of 
 the earliest knowledge ; and we did so : but mixed 
 in such a manner, with a thousand inventions of a 
 wild and fabling imagination, that our spirits were 
 confounded and perplexed. The multiplied deities 
 of the Brahmists, their intermingling names and na- 
 tures, their incarnations, their ludicrous adventures; 
 the simple, the gentle, but irrational doctrine of the 
 Budhists, filled not the crying void in our souls. We 
 thirsted to descend to the lowest fountain of Truth ; 
 which gleamed indeed upon us, but so overgrown 
 with the tliick branches of an extravagant fancy, 
 that it gleamed only to trouble and bewilder. We 
 passed through the utmost ordeals of their vaunted 
 mysteries ; but in vain — around us were shadows, 
 ever-growing shadows. We might have admired 
 the ingenuity of the Brahmist, the humanity of the 
 Budhist; but unfortunately we entered the temple 
 of Jagan-Nath, and'beheM the 'votaries of these 
 
78 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 rival faiths bowing to that hideous god ; beholding 
 the hateful and licentious orgies of his temple ; the 
 bloody rites of his sacrifice. We saw the baleful 
 monster, ugly as night, detestable in shape and 
 aspect, as the deeds which are done in his shrine ; 
 we saw him, on his towering car, borne into the 
 open day. Amid the millions assembled to worship 
 him, numbers of wild wretches immolated them- 
 selves beneath his ponderous wheels. We saw the 
 wandering Baldoc, — he whom we had met in the 
 circle of Hela, — with the same elated air, there 
 terminate his career by flinging his life to the 
 horrid god. 
 
 Oh, great Lord of the universe ! the memory of 
 what now befel me, makes me weep, even in my 
 old age. Didst thou there punish me because I 
 too earnestly sought at so many heathen shrines for 
 thee ? Or didst thou suffer my heart to be rent 
 asunder by the most dreadful event, that thou 
 mightest infix in it a terror of pagan creeds for 
 ever, and make the light of thy own more fair and 
 precious ? 
 
 Lodemmil and I were sitting in our temporary 
 abode, conversing on the horrors we had seen at 
 
OF PANTIKA. 79 
 
 the shrine of Jagan-Nath. My friend, with his 
 wonted fire of spirit was warmly expressing (as in- 
 deed he had not hesitated to do publicly, to my 
 alarm) his abhorrence of the detested god ; and we 
 were mutually lamenting the disappointment of our 
 hopes in the religious lore of this ancient realm. 
 " Pantika," he repeatedly said, " we are, I fear, 
 seeking what is not to be found on earth. Perhaps 
 our young and ardent spirits may have deluded us 
 with hopes that may have no fulfilment. Perhaps 
 it may be part of the folly of our nature, — rfor we 
 see folly is the leading character of this nature, — to 
 dream of truth, and beauty, and immortality, and 
 follow them as shadows follow the sun. Such 
 things there may be, and yet not given to men. 
 For what men possess them? Think of the 
 immense regions we have traversed, — and are they 
 there ? No ! ignorance, cruelty, and selfishness — 
 these abound everywhere — in all men, — and shall 
 thou and 1 be unlike the universal race ? Thou 
 wilt say — whence then come these glorious desires ? 
 Oh ! are they not the fragments of a once proud 
 estate, which exists, and is destined to exist, no 
 more? For though they prove that such a state 
 
80 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 once was man's, they cannot prove that it shall 
 again be his, any more than that the fragments of 
 a broken vessel can gather themselves into their 
 former unity. Are truth, and knowledge, and 
 goodness, gone then for ever ? If we answer from 
 experience, we must despair — for where are they ? 
 And if they be destined for the possession of men 
 at all, where can such brightness be hidden ? I 
 sigh as I ask the question ; — here, at least, they 
 are not ; — let us hasten to quit this land !" 
 
 We resolved on the morrow to set out home- 
 wards. He had yielded to my solicitations to come 
 and partake my lot here. On my first setting foot 
 in India, I had hastened to assure Podonius, 
 through the means of a caravan, of my existence 
 and hopes of return at no distant period. That 
 time now seemed hastening on ; when, in the 
 midst of our converse, entered some of the priests 
 of Jagan-Nath, denounced Lodemmil as a despiser 
 and blasphemer of the god, and seized on him as a^ 
 victim to his vengeance. Stunned, but at the same 
 time rendered wild by the horrible circumstance, 
 I sprung upon the bloodly emissaries of cruelty, 
 and pierced several of them with my dagger : but 
 
OF PANTIKA. 81 
 
 a blow on the head, with some heavy weapon, 
 felled me ; my consciousness departed ; and when 
 it returned, I found myself lying chill, stiff, and 
 faint with the loss of blood, on the sam^ spot. It 
 was night ; — at one instant, the recollection of the 
 horrible event, and the sound of music, the glare 
 of lights bursting from every aperture in the tower 
 of Jagan-Nath, — the cries of maniac revelry, — 
 broke into my soul, and bore it back into the 
 darkness of insensibility. 
 
 Henceforward,] a large period is to me a dreadful 
 dream, I wandered through a land of dreams — of 
 terrible heat — through seas of raging fire, in which 
 the great serpent Typhon pursued me to devour 
 me : thousands of fearful shapes lived and moved 
 around me. Isis played on her sistrum : Osiris 
 and Apis exchanged, and re-exchanged shapes; 
 Vishnou floated in his snake-ship ; the lotus 
 bloomed, — Brahma sate in the expanded flower, 
 and gazed over the waters, where the gloomy 
 Siva pursued and cried to his perverse and obsti- 
 nate Parvati. Baal now stood before me as the 
 sun, now as the moon ; Gad flew rapidly over the 
 waters in his skeleton bark ; and Nergal, with her 
 e3 
 
82 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 harnessed chanticleers, smiled on me as she came 
 showering, from her half-shadowed car, the light of 
 morning on the world. Endless fantastic shapes 
 were busy around me ; endless varieties of dismal 
 cries. I heard the dogs of hell barking; I 
 stumbled and groped in caverns of interminable 
 darkness, where pale, gleaming phantoms, of every 
 ghastly and unearthly character, glided thinly on 
 the walls. I was in the land of wild phantasy, and 
 idol-shapes of various nations on which I had so 
 often gazed, haunted me to distraction. A sword, 
 anointed with blood, stood out of the ground, and 
 spoke oracles ; an empty skull whispered to me of 
 shuddering things ; the three-headed gods declared 
 themselves to be Lodemmil, and would accompany 
 me on my travels. 
 
 When I emerged from these swarming visions, 
 the hour when the thunderbolt of man's cruelty 
 fell upon me, seemed far, far off; yet was the 
 weight and anguish of my heart strong, and 
 grievous as ever. I sickened at the light of day, 
 and longed to pass away into that unknown region, 
 whither the beloved of my soul had gone. A 
 little, dark-yellow old woman was waiting upon 
 
OF PANTIKA. 83 
 
 me ; and importuning me to eat of lier boiled rice, 
 as yellow as herself; — but I desired rather to die. 
 I lay for many days in an unbroken, yet sleepless 
 dream, in which I wandered again over all the 
 wide lands which we two joyous and united souls 
 had traversed in our strength : again, I recalled all 
 the stirring and delightful converse we had held ; — 
 our hopes, — our soaring dreams and aspirations, — 
 oiu" troublesome doubtings — all now were precious, 
 precious to my soul. In them I lived ; in them I 
 desired only to live : I would gladly fail, and fade 
 away, following my beloved friend into the un- 
 known life. When I thought of the real world 
 about me, of the wide distance between me and 
 my own country, I turned, in the lassitude of 
 terror, from the contemplation, and watered my 
 couch with my tears. Lodemmil was no more ! — 
 Hope had lost its fascinations ; — and then — the 
 terrible idea of his death, —that noble, generous, 
 delightful soul, perishing in the hateful hands of 
 the ministers of Jagan-Nath ; in that baleful 
 shrine, — it was too much for the tortured and 
 writhing imagination. But that idea gave me 
 strength. I loathed the land where the deed was 
 
84 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 perpetrated, — it seemed, in my eyes, swimming 
 with blood. I longed for wings, that I might dart 
 from it in a moment; and in that spirit of shud- 
 dering abhorrence I sprung up, and hastened to 
 depart. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I soon found a caravan setting out, and with it I 
 commenced my homeward journey. Whoever ex- 
 amines my travels, will here find a broad vacuum ; 
 for of the countries through which I passed, I 
 knew nothing — saw nothing. I journeyed in the 
 midst of busy people — busy sounds; but I jour- 
 neyed alone. The mists and the darkness of a 
 mighty sorrow were around me. It was not till 
 I was in the land of Media, that my attention 
 was excited by external objects; and it was the 
 voice of sorrow, that struck with its kindred tone on 
 my heart, and startled me as to life. , 
 
OF PANTIKA, 85 
 
 We had encamped by the river Gozan, in a 
 luxuriant vale. It was eve : and somewhat soothed 
 by the amenity of the spot, I had wandered a little 
 way from the camp, and thrown myself down 
 beneath a tamarisk tree, by the water, when sud- 
 denly my heart was struck by the sound of female 
 voices, — sweet, melancholy voices, — singing, in 
 chorus, the following song : — 
 
 Low ! low ! in our darkness, low ! 
 
 By the alien-river's side, 
 Where blow the weeping lilies. 
 
 Our tears how can we hide ! 
 
 Father ! how hast thou cast us 
 
 From thy loving arms away. 
 Where once, like happy infants, 
 
 All fearlessly we lay. 
 
 Father ! how hast thou chang'd 
 
 Thy smile, that o'er us shone ! 
 When the earth was all in darkness. 
 
 And peace beside was none ! 
 
 Father ! how hast thou hidden 
 
 Thy arm that once was bare, 
 When the giant nations trembled, 
 
 And melted in despair. 
 
 Thy banner then was o'er us ; 
 
 Thy pillar, and thy light 
 Went on with us, thy children, 
 
 Rejoicing in thy sight. 
 
86 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 Low ! low I in our darkness, low ! 
 
 By the alien-river's side, 
 Where blow the weeping lilies, 
 
 Our tears how can we hide ! 
 
 In thy pleasant land all planted 
 Beneath the palm and vine, 
 
 Where the rocks o'erflowed with honey. 
 What race was like to thine ! 
 
 But we knew not all our blessing ; 
 
 Our feeble spirits fell ! 
 We felt thy i"od — we sorrowed — 
 
 And all again was well ! 
 
 But now, thus peeled and banished. 
 The prophet-voice is o'er : 
 
 And thy love, and thy loving-kindness, 
 Return ! return no more ! 
 
 Low ! low ! in our darkness, low ! 
 
 By the alien-river's side, 
 Where blow the weeping lilies. 
 
 Our tears how can we hide ! 
 
 That woful song penetrated to my inmost soul. 
 The very tone in which it was sung had a power, 
 that no other sound ever had, over my spirit. 
 Once I might have listened to it, and felt its pen- 
 sive beauty, and have been impressed with ten- 
 derest pity for those who sung it so evidently with 
 the vitality of sad experience; but now, my bruised, 
 broken heart, had been baptized into the lowest 
 
OF PANTIKA. 87 
 
 depths of human affliction, and could interpret its 
 faintest breathing. That was its own living lan- 
 guage; that was the lamenting music which had 
 been sounding for months in its farthest recesses ; 
 and was here made vocal in other beings, and flung 
 back upon it as a mournful, but sweet reflection. 
 
 But, besides this, it had a far more astonishing 
 charm ; for what did I hear ? Words glowing 
 with the very spirit which had sent me round the 
 globe ; words, which responded, with a startling 
 thrill, to that great cry in my heart which I had 
 held as the cry of universal nature : words which 
 unfolded to me, even in their fewness and simpli- 
 city, a world of facts and ideas ! I heard a people 
 calling upon their God as their father, — as their 
 living, fostering father, who had made himself 
 clearly and familiarly known to them; in whose 
 favour they had enjoyed glory, and power, and 
 felicity; but this favour they had lost by their 
 crimes. For this they were punished; outcast and 
 hopeless. For their crimes ! What a novel, and 
 yet, to me, rational doctrine. What a novel doc- 
 trine as it regarded the practice and experience of 
 all other nations. For where was the nation which 
 
88 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 professed to have suffered the loss of the favour of 
 their deities by their crimes ? So that they duly 
 paid them their homage and their sacrifices, their 
 gods were, in their belief, contented. They went 
 on with their self-indulgence, fearless of evil : nay, 
 evil itself appeared the very essence of that worship 
 by which most people soothed these strange deities. 
 What nation had ever, as a nation, confessed that 
 their gods had abandoned them for their evil deeds, 
 and given them up to their enemies? Yet how 
 conceivable to my heart and mind was it, that the 
 true deity should do thus? How often had Lo- 
 demmil and myself exclaimed that the God, who- 
 ever he might be, who had stretched out the pure, 
 heavenly concave, — had breathed on earth the pure 
 enveloping air, — had filled the hollows of the globe 
 with the pure and living waters, must be himself 
 inconceivably pure ! How often had we said, as 
 we stood at famous shrines, " No, these are not the 
 shrines of the true God; for here are blood and 
 cruelty, here are ugliness and obscenity; but in 
 this fair world, in our hearts which he has moulded, 
 are nobility and gentleness, beauty and pure de- 
 light." How often had we exclaimed, " The true 
 
OF PANTIKA. 89 
 
 God must be the father of his people, and can only 
 smile upon them as they honour and obey the 
 traces of his own nature. Alas ! no such people 
 had we found ! yet here must they be ! 
 
 I started up, and advanced towards the place 
 whence the sound had proceeded. Immediately I 
 beheld a beautiful sight. By the river side, in the 
 deep rich herbage, sate four women, weaving light 
 baskets of the broad river-grass ; and along the 
 banks strolled a troop of children, cutting this grass 
 with small hooks; selecting from it the best. 
 Others were lying in playful luxury amongst the 
 flowers; and others with long rods of willow at- 
 tempting to draw towards them and secure large 
 lilies, that, like gups of silver and gold, floated on 
 the water. The women were fairer in complexion 
 than any I had seen for a long time — fair as my 
 own country-women ; but their eyes and beautiful 
 hair, were as black as jet. They had a style and 
 intelligence of countenance that surprised me. 
 The contour of their faces was a rich oval ; their 
 noses long, and rather aquiline ; their eyebrows 
 thick, finely arched, and giving a strength of ex- 
 pression to the whole visage. Their mouths ex- 
 
90 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 pressed a living character, as if they were accus- 
 tomed to vary from the keenest sense of wit and 
 satirical mirth, to tenderness and benevolence. 
 One, a young mother, held her infant to her bo- 
 som; one, who appeared in the prime of woman- 
 hood, had a matronly dignity of air that could not 
 be severed from the idea of superior rank. Yet 
 how diiferent from such ideas their present situa- 
 tion ! She, and the other two young damsels, were 
 busily plaiting baskets of grass. They had crowned 
 themselves with a wreath of wild myrtle, mingled 
 with the large lily flowers which the children had 
 collected about them ; and the matron wove a sort 
 of little bark of bulrushes, and filling it with lilies, 
 set it afloat, saying, " In such a. vessel our great 
 prophet once was committed to the waters of 
 Egj'pt. Alas ! no such prophet shall appear in 
 this heathen land, to lead us back to our own lovely 
 one !" At this I beheld the group stand watching 
 the departing bark, which, after making several 
 circuits with the eddies on the borders of the 
 stream, shot rapidly away ; — with looks of saddest 
 expression, they watched it, and again they sung 
 the melancholy chorus of 
 
 Low ! low ! in our darkness, low ! 
 
OF PANTIKA. 91 
 
 I advanced, and inquired whom they might be. 
 They were Hebrews! .Of that nation almost 
 bordering on my own — yet so little known to us. 
 Of that nation which had excited my curiosity, 
 only to awake my aversion and disgust. I had 
 heard that they were a singular and proud people, 
 whose gods were mighty ; and I had sought such 
 of them as came to Tarshish to trade, and inquired 
 of their laws and religion. They repelled me 
 with sullen scorn ; and I turned away from them 
 with unutterable aversion. 
 
 But here they were in sorrow, and my heart 
 opened to them ; and I found these females, far 
 from reserved or disagreeable. Unlike the gene- 
 rality of the women of the east, they shrank not 
 from my presence, shrouded themselves not in 
 their veils, but looked in my face with the kind 
 yet modest familiarity of sisters ; and answered all 
 my eager inquiries, about their nation, with a 
 perspicuous frankness, yet with sighs and tears. 
 And what a wonderful history was now unfolded 
 to me ! From the very construction of the world 
 to the present hour, was the whole laid open, as 
 if the light of a new day was poured upon me: 
 
92 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 " Come with us," said these fair exiles, — " come 
 with us to the city. There our husbands will 
 converse better with thee upon these things. There 
 thou shalt behold our ancient books ! " 
 
 I went, I talked, I read. I was in an Elysian 
 dream. I found thousands of these wonderful 
 but unhappy people, planted by the Assyrian 
 conqueror, in the cities of these regions. And 
 when I looked upon the native inhabitants, sallow, 
 and dwarfish, and heavy of countenance, I won- 
 dered not at the policy of the monarch, that had 
 peopled this fair tract with so fine a race. Cities, 
 fertile fields, and pleasant mountain ranges, with 
 all their varieties, were theirs. The ruler was far 
 distant, — they lived well-nigh as they would; but 
 the memory of their native land was in their souls, 
 and they were sad and despondent. For me, I 
 began to love and honour them as my own people. 
 Affliction had broken their haughtiness, which 
 they freely confessed, had been strong in them, — 
 regarding themselves as the favoure'd people of 
 heaven. They were kind and communicative, and 
 I ran through their treasured volumes, as I would 
 through the valleys of God. My amaze at their 
 
OF PANTIKA. 93 
 
 truth, their simplicity, their sublime doctrines every 
 day increased, — every hour I marvelled that such 
 precious knowledge had not broken forth like a 
 flood, and overflowed the world. Their annals, 
 unlike those of other nations, were free from sha- 
 dows and perplexities ; clear, continuous, simple, 
 yet abounding with the most wondrous events. 
 Their religion — the religion which had unfolded 
 itself to my heart as something native to it, was 
 one flood of pure and undazzling light, — the wor- 
 ship of one infinite God, at whose presence all 
 other gods fade into nothing, — the Creator and 
 Father of all the earth. 
 
 With what avidity did I dwell upon their touch- 
 ing pictures of the simple, ancient times : on the 
 miracles God had wrought for them : on the pro- 
 phets—those awful beings, whose words had proved 
 themselves, in the events of their own and surround- 
 ing nations, to be the words of God himself: on 
 the glorious strains of their royal poet: on the 
 sapient maxims, the idylls, and philosophy of the 
 magnificent Solomon. I was impatient to be gone 
 into Judea itself, to possess myself of those inesti- 
 mable treasures, — the treasures which I had sought 
 
94 THE PILT1RIMA.GE 
 
 throughout the earth, and had found more splen- 
 did, more abundant than I had dreamed of " Oh 
 thou dear, and lost Lodemmil ! " I repeatedly 
 exclaimed, " couldst thou, noble soul, couldst thou 
 now behold the reality of our dreams — the fulfil- 
 ment of our desires, how wouldst thou rejoice !" 
 I was impatient, I say, to be gone ; for here these 
 writings were but rare, and were guarded and kept 
 with far more care than life itself. But when I 
 talked of departing for Judea, again I saw the 
 cloud of grief darken in their faces. " Alas ! " they 
 said, " to what a land wilt thou go ! Not to that 
 lovely and peopled land which once it was : but to 
 a frightful desert, — a waste of horror and desola- 
 tion. Twelve years have we sojourned here ; and 
 now, even now, is the mighty Sennacherib gone 
 up to bring away the last remnant of the nation ; — 
 Benjamin and Judah, the royal tribe ; — the dwellers 
 in the royal city, whence we have looked for the 
 great Messiah to come. Yes ! he is gone up now ; 
 and, in brief space, the trace of our ancient kingdom 
 will be probably obliterated." 
 
 While we talked on this subject, this very event 
 seemed to have occurred. A fearful rumour spread 
 
OF PANTIKA. 95 
 
 through the land, that the king had seized Jeru- 
 salem, and had put all to the sword ; plundered its 
 holy shrine ; razed the city to the ground ; and 
 was returning with the spoil. The tidings fell on 
 their hearts like a thunderbolt. Through every 
 city there was a deadly silence, as if life itself were 
 stopped : and, day after day, the rumours grew, 
 and spread, and came aggravated with fresh details 
 of horror. At this confirmed and augmented news 
 of the extirpation of their kindred, the whole 
 people broke into the most bitter cries and 
 lamentations. Nature could no longer contain 
 itself. They exclaimed — "Now is the glory of 
 Israel departed for ever. Now is hope ceased in 
 Zion for ever ! God has clean removed his re- 
 jected race. He will call — we shall return no 
 more ! In this far land we shall lay our bones. 
 Here will our children, and our children's children 
 grow ; and as God has forgotten us, so, perhaps, 
 will they forget the God of their fathers. Woe ! 
 woe to the once glorious race ! " 
 
 They threw themselves on the ground — they 
 rent their clothes — scattered ashes and dust upon 
 their heads, and lay, day and night, moaning and 
 
96 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 lamenting. The women cut, or rent away, without 
 remorse, their beautiful da-rk locks; and careless 
 of food, of the refreshments of bed and bath, they 
 lay, and gave themselves up to despair. It was a 
 fearful sight to behold a whole people cast into 
 such utter misery ; and I hastened to quit a scene 
 where my condolence was unavailing, and my 
 heart was wrung with the woe around me. I was 
 in the very gates of the city, when I observed 
 groups of the Hebrew people collected in eager 
 and muttering knots ; and a murmur passed around 
 me, which seemed full of wonder. When I was 
 about to inquire what was the cause, I beheld a 
 man come running, with his loins closely girded, 
 and with a short staff in his hand. He came 
 speeding on, covered with dust ; with wild eyes — 
 parched, gasping lips, and frantic gestures, that 
 seemed to strive to express some momentous 
 thing, which his tongue was incapable of uttering. 
 All rushed towards him. He stood, and gazed 
 wildly around upon them for a moment; then 
 his eyes turning upwards, and shewing only balls 
 of ghastly whiteness, he stretched forth his arms, 
 and fell prone upon the earth. Instantly the busy 
 
OF PANTIKA. 97 
 
 multitude cut his girdle, scattered water upon him, 
 and watched, with intense anxiety, the result. Soon 
 he began to breathe in deep, convulsive sighs — his 
 eyes rolled, his limbs quivered; and gazing vaguely 
 around, he sat up, and made signs for water. It 
 was given him; and instantly recovering much of 
 his vigour and vivacity, he spoke in a loud, sibilant 
 whisper, tidings that made the whole multitude 
 stand fixed like so many statues of inexpressible 
 wonder. He told, that so far from Jerusalem being 
 destroyed, God had once more made bare his arm 
 for its preservation; that the Assyrian monarch 
 and all his army at eve triumphed in the prospect of 
 the morrow's capture, and uttered great, swelling 
 words aofainst the boasted God of Israel. In the 
 morning the whole army lay lifeless — destroyed — 
 utterly destroyed ! The king alone, with feeble 
 and dismayed troops of his servants escaped, and 
 was suffered to return full of shame to his own land. 
 At these awful tidings, the whole nation arose in 
 troubled and restless excitement. Shoukl it be 
 true, who could contain their joy ? If false — how . 
 cruel must be the ensuing darkness ! All was agi- 
 tation and disquiet, running to and fro, and insa- 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 THE PILGRIMAGE 
 
 tiate inquiry. But hour aftef hour, day after day, 
 brought but additional confirmation of the terribly 
 joyful event ; and, leaving the exiled people to this 
 new gleam of hope and happiness, I set forth to 
 visit a country so wonderful, and so dread. 
 
 I passed on, and on, but everywhere around me 
 were hurry, confusion, and discord. The vast 
 empire seemed in one wide fever of anarchy. The 
 destruction of the army — the unprotected weakness 
 of the king, seemed to have set at liberty the spirit 
 of a great unwieldy realm, smarting beneath the lash 
 of his heavy military exactions ; and sedition was 
 actually at work. The Medes were aiming to fling 
 off their unwilling allegiance : the sons of the king 
 looked with the murderous eyes of royal ambition 
 on their fallen father, and afterwards slew him with 
 their own hands. Everywhere were flying couriers, 
 careering cavalry, and strong encampments. I 
 passed safely through all, and entered the land of 
 Israel. Alas ! how would its exiled children have 
 wept, could they have seen it ! Ruin and desolation 
 were everywhere. The traces of former fertility 
 and culture — cities, terraces, reservoirs, buried in 
 blackness, trampled by passing armies — peopled 
 
OF PANTIKA. ^ 99 
 
 only by wandering hordes of Idumeans. I walked 
 through the once lovely land in gloom of heart, till 
 I beheld the lofty hills, the rock-built citadels, the 
 glorious temple of Jerusalem, before me. Around, 
 were terrific traces of the preceding siege ; within, 
 even through the temporary joy of this great deli- 
 verance, the sadness of a great people's decline was 
 but too visible. Yet, to me, what a city of gladness 
 and desire was that! There I wandered, over a 
 thousand spots celebrated in their annals for the 
 most marvellous and incontestible events. I con- 
 versed with the sages ; I revelled in that lore which 
 grasps the world in its embrace, from the first morn- 
 ing of creation to the last night of futurity ; and 
 which establishes the heart on the everlasting rock 
 of spiritual life. I sung the glorious strains of 
 David, as I trod his halls; I possessed myself of 
 boundless treasures, and departed to my native land. 
 Blessed be God ! I found the good Podonius 
 alive ! The old man fell on my neck, and wept 
 like a child. He had hoarded up my wealth into a 
 mountain. I rejoiced him with my presence ; I 
 soothed his latter days with the marvels of my wan- 
 derings ; I laid him at peace in the tomb of his 
 
100 PANTIKA. 
 
 fathers. Since then, I have built schools for the 
 teaching of true knowledge — the knowledge of the 
 Hebrews separated from their national customs 
 and prejudices ; and I have seen these schools grow 
 into a renown far higher, because purer, than those 
 of Egypt and Athens. There, one day, shall all 
 my volumes be deposited. 
 
 But now, Cydna, I cease my narrative, and de- 
 vote my pen to the record of a few of the many 
 traditions that float amongst this ancient people of 
 God. 
 
NICHAR, 
 
 THE EXILE OF HEAVEN. 
 
NICHAR, 
 THE EXILE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Amongst that joyful and illustrious troop of 
 angels wliicli accompanied the Almighty in his 
 progress of creation, and beheld with exulting 
 wonder the miracles of his power, few were more 
 glorious, none more blessed, than Nichar. He had 
 floated amid the eternal and uncreated splendours 
 of the Divine Presence through the wilds of 
 space; he had seen revolving systems suddenly 
 burst upon the sight ; the light of suns kindle with 
 instantaneous, and, to all but a spirit's eye, intoler- 
 able radiance, and cast far and wide their beams 
 into the bosom of darkness and vacuity. He had 
 beheld comets sent flaming on their wild and 
 mysterious career; and the gentler planets take 
 their prescribed courses around their central orbs, 
 like young, vast, and vigorous existences, beginning 
 
104 THE EXILE 
 
 their race full of harmony and rejoicing. He had 
 seen the pure and pellucid air wrap each beautiful 
 globe as with a spiritual garment ; and the young 
 winds, as if impatient to essay their strength, rush 
 triumphantly abroad, over the face of yet nameless 
 lands. He had seen the mighty deep spread out 
 its majestic bosom to the newly created rays ; roll 
 proudly its host of waves from pole to pole; 
 and send up to the throne of the Creator, the 
 solemn murmurs of that voice, which, through its 
 destined term of ages, should fill the world which 
 it embraced, with alternate terror and sublime 
 delight. He had seen mountains raise their glit- 
 tering heads; valleys assume their gloom; rivers 
 and cataracts commence their thundering leaps — 
 their beneficent careers; forests in all their wild 
 grandeur, stretch from hill to hill ; a flowery ver- 
 dure flush, with a sunny gleam of beauty, the 
 face of each perfected world; and the countless 
 tribes of animated things, at once fill creation with 
 the gladness of their voices, and the vivacity of 
 their restless forms. 
 
 He had heard the morning-stars burst into one 
 wide triumphal pean, and had joined it with all 
 
OF HEAVEN. 105 
 
 his soul, as the Paternal Spirit gave tohisinnu- 
 •merable worlds their perfecting touch ; gave to those 
 glorious habitations, the rational creatures which he 
 had destined for each, — creatures with natures con- 
 sonant to their abodes, capable of comprehending 
 the majesty and felicity of life, and of adoring 
 worthily the Universal Father. He had seen all 
 this, progressing with that glad celestial company, 
 from space to space, from world to world ; and had 
 experienced in it a joy, equal to the amplitude of 
 his own being. It was not merely the display of 
 wisdom and of power; it was not merely the 
 measureless development of beauty and harmony 
 which he witnessed, that aiFected him, great and 
 glorious as they were, so much as the contempla- 
 tion of the flood of life and immortality, which was 
 opened in the universe ; which should daily, hourly 
 — through all time, through all eternity, spread 
 farther, wider, strike deeper into the profundities 
 of boundless space; yet should every day seem 
 equally distant from its termination, — inasmuch as 
 God and the universe are alike infinite. The 
 human soul may glance into this awful flood of 
 being and duration, till it shrink back, dazzled, 
 f3 
 
106 THE EXILE 
 
 blasted with liglit, and bewildered with boundless- 
 ness : but his serene and capacious spirit looked 
 fearlessly abroad over the shoreless ocean, and saw, 
 not what the Omnipresent eye can see alone, but 
 far, immeasurably far beyond the strongest facul- 
 ties, the fleetest imagination of man, and contem- 
 plated the consequences of creative energy through, 
 to us, incalculable ages;— saw the ever- springing 
 and abounding fountains of intellectual life; saw 
 the lights and glooms of mortal actions, the clouds 
 and gleams of hopes and fears, of crime and virtue, 
 of pleasure and pain, that swept over the ocean of 
 existence ; and the voices of innumerable multi- 
 tudes of souls which yet were not, but which should 
 inevitably be, seemed to fill his spirit with their 
 sound. 
 
 Yet, as he stood upon the earth, in the radiant 
 circle of heavenly spirits, and beheld God form 
 from the dust the human pair, his heart ques- 
 tioned with itself, whether woman might not have 
 been made a more perfect creature. Why should 
 so lovely a being be made less vigorous in frame, 
 less bold and excursive in intellect, than her com- 
 panion ? Why should she not be qualified for the 
 
OF HEAVEN. 107 
 
 highest companionship, by the highest endow- 
 ments of physical and mental force ? Why should 
 not a being, so splendidly gifted with beauty, be 
 made at once perfect? That light form, be un- 
 wearied as it was agile — enduring as it was grace- 
 ful — as full of majesty as man? That, ordained 
 to be the inhabitant of a noble world — the com- 
 panion of a noble being — the mother of a mighty 
 and innumerable race, — she might rejoice like an 
 immortal spirit in her abode ; lead on her husband, 
 like a fair and guiding star, in the race of life, 
 rather than hang upon his labouring arm, a hin- 
 drance and a weight ; and dwell amidst the love 
 and the admiration of her posterity, to far distant 
 generations ? 
 
 Wrapped in this fascinating speculation, the 
 amiable Nichar forgot, for a brief period, all the 
 works of God's creative hand, all the marvels of 
 God's consummate wisdom, which he had seen ; the 
 sublime prospects which they opened to his spirit 
 were veiled as by a cloud, and the thought of the 
 present, perfectly absorbed him. He stood amid 
 the shadowy foliage of Paradise, by the very Tree 
 of Life; and so concentrated was his spirit upon 
 
108 THE EXILE 
 
 its object, that lie heard not the jubilant shout, 
 and the song with which the heavenly troop hailed 
 the newly created pair, walking in their beauty : 
 he heard not the rush, saw «ot the flash of their 
 thousand wings, as they rose and soared heaven- 
 w^ards in the train of the Ineffable Splendour ; but 
 he stood, as if the same power which had given life 
 and motion to the earthly pair, had fixed him 
 for ever to the spot. The idea which his soul had 
 conceived, was brighter to him than the external 
 creation; the impulse which he had allowed to 
 move him, became speedily strong as his own 
 being. He turned aside into a desert-place, be- 
 yond the precincts of Eden; he stooped to the 
 earth — he moulded a form — he breathed into it 
 his own breath : it was the work of a moment ; and 
 it arose a living, glowing, reasoning creature — the 
 radiant reality of his thought ! He had seen the 
 Almighty exert the spell of life, till it was familiar 
 to his vision : he had never inquired whether this 
 power resided in any other spirit ; but he beheld 
 the truth now evidenced in his own unconscious 
 act, and he gazed in a transport of pride and joy, 
 on the work of his hands. Her movement was to 
 
OF HEAVEN. 109 
 
 him a dream of delicious wonder; the sound of her 
 voice, was a trance of music to his ears; her 
 thoughts came upon him more freshly than the 
 breezes of heaven. "Yon garden," he exclaimed, 
 " is for the pair who are doubtless destined to a 
 confined and humble existence; — the world, the 
 free, wide world be thy abode ! " and he led her still 
 farther from the boundaries of Paradise. For awhile 
 he lingered to gaze upon her — to contemplate the 
 perfection of her figure, the grace of her motion, 
 the beauty of her countenance, the glowing purity 
 of her complexion, the intelligence in her glance, 
 the atmosphere of irresistible fascination which 
 surrounded her; to drink in the tones of her 
 thrilling voice ; to admire the wondrous and har- 
 monious power of thought alive within her; in a 
 word, to experience the intoxicating rapture of a 
 creator, who beholds for the first time the most 
 glorious creature which he could shape in thought, 
 set, by the act of his own will, livingly before 
 him, splendid in intellect and perfect in form. 
 
 In another moment, awaking as from a trance, 
 he beheld himself alone with his fair creation — the 
 divine company had departed from the earth: — he 
 
110 THE EXILE 
 
 looked up, and beheld tlie last glimpse of its glory 
 as it neared the threshold of heaven. He followed 
 in the full speed of his spirit. 
 
 Already the blissful host had entered the hea- 
 venly abodes when he arrived. He was about to 
 enter ; but alas ! he felt that his progress was 
 arrested by that invisible bar, which expels from 
 heaven every creature that is not all pure and 
 holy; and that voice, which, without a sound, is 
 heard through the infinite expanse, pronounced in 
 his soul: "Nichar! art thou wiser than the Ancient 
 of Days ? Is thy work more perfect than that of 
 him who made thee ? Be thou the judge of thy 
 own deeds! — go, and contemplate through ages the 
 effects of a moment !" 
 
 At those words, he fell prostrate on the crystal 
 threshold of heaven, as one dead. The enormity 
 of his offence, which his spirit had before vainly 
 attempted to conceal completely from itself, now 
 rushed ov3r him like a blaze of intolerable light; 
 the sense of all that he had lost by his guilty pre- 
 sumption, pierced him with an agony such as only 
 an immortal spirit can feel. Lost ! lost for ever ! 
 for ever ! — his birthright — his home — his native 
 
OF HEAVEN. Ill 
 
 home — the precious abode of numberless ages in 
 heaven ! Oh ! that fair and ineffably bright land, 
 where God alone is seen in all his glory and his 
 goodness, face to face ! Where that eternal Efful- 
 gence — which, if revealed, would devour all its own 
 works more utterly, more swiftly than the fiercest 
 furnace would devour a blade of grass — moved 
 abroad amidst his highest and purest children, softly 
 and sweetly as a moonlight splendour amongst the 
 children of earth, and smiled upon his wise and 
 mighty archangels, and upon the slightest beings 
 of that holy place, with a paternal love and beauty 
 that filled every moment with ages of unspeakable 
 gladness. That happy land, which stretched far, 
 far through the vastness of eternity ; most glorious 
 in feature, most delicious in climate I Its moun- 
 tains, its flowery vales, its broad, living waters, its 
 groves, its perennial fields, basking in the blessed- 
 ness of the imperishable light; and everywhere 
 through its fragrant quietudes, through its gorgeous 
 and multitudinous cities, the heavenly people 
 dwelling in knowledge and love, and in that elasti- 
 city of spirit, which, knowing no languor, no 
 weariness, feels every moment the fulness of its 
 
112 THE EXILE 
 
 life, and looks onward through the interminable 
 future with, triumphant delight, unknown to the 
 most glorious hope. What thousands of beautiful 
 creatures were dwelling there, with whom his soul 
 had entwined itself in tenderest and most animating 
 bonds of love, — begun with life, and strengthened 
 through the lapse of ennobling ages. That now — 
 O misery of miseries, he had lost for ever ! 
 
 For ever ! for ever ! — a spirit alone knows the 
 meaning of that word. For ever ! Cut oif from 
 all the glowing union of pure, splendid, and sera- 
 phic minds ; from that boundless alliance of rejoic- 
 ing hearts, which heaven only knows; banished 
 from the shine of God's own presence — that Sun of 
 suns, which warms the whole universe, but pours 
 upon the children of heaven the infinitude of its 
 glory. For ever was he thence expelled; and, — 
 horrible idea ! — for ever cast out to the communion 
 of the blasphemous and damned crew ! The 
 thought passed through him like the two-edged 
 sword of judgment, and he cried aloud in the 
 intensity of his agony; and, clinging to the sacred 
 threshold, called vehemently on God for pardon. 
 But no answer issued from the Holy Tabernacle ; 
 
OF HEAVEN. 113 
 
 and in the madness of despair, he prayed for anni- 
 hilation ; but there came no reply — no winged 
 shaft, which should, at a stroke, scatter his spirit 
 into nothing. The blackness of condemnation was 
 in his soul, making horrible the tempest of his tor- 
 tured feelings; and the heavenly messengers, stop- 
 ped for a moment as they went by in their lightning- 
 flight, gazed on him as he lay, exclaimed, " Is 
 Nichar also fallen ?" shuddered, trembled, and fled 
 on. Crushed, agonized to the limits of his mighty 
 nature, he lay prostrate on the sacred pavement; 
 and if a spirit could die, he had then died. But 
 alas ! no such blessing was within his reach ; and 
 when he felt that he was irrecoverably lost, when 
 no pardon came from the father and fountain of 
 Love ; when not even annihilation was vouchsafed 
 to him, he sprang up, like a suddenly kindled 
 meteor, and plunged from the crystal verge of 
 heaven into the abyss of space. 
 
 Downward and desperately he precipitated him- 
 self headlong, in that wild fury of heart which 
 would fain burst away from its own misery, when 
 lo ! he beheld himself near the earth, the scene of 
 his fatal temptation, and it instantly occurred to 
 
114 THE EXILE 
 
 him to enter and destroy the cause of his ruin. It 
 was the hardest sacrifice that pride could make to 
 duty ; but might there not be a ray of hope in the 
 deed ? When the cause of oiFence was removed, 
 might not the offence be forgiven ? Would God, 
 so gracious, so full of loving-kindness to millions of 
 beings, keep his wrath for ever, when that which 
 caused it was no more ? When the soul that had 
 sinned, hastened to obliterate the sinful work ; 
 when the heart which had for ages partaken of his 
 love, with the speediest and most unshrinking de- 
 votion, rushed to demolish its fondest idol, to lay 
 itself once more prostrate at the footstool of that 
 Goodness, which it had wounded rather by a mo- 
 mentary forgetfulness, than by premeditated evil — 
 could there be no relenting ? Oh ! might this 
 boon be won; were it only through centuries of 
 painful penance, how gladly would he undergo it ! 
 
 He entered the wilderness where he had left 
 Lilith,* for so he had named the living work of his 
 hands. He sought her with feelings that warred 
 
 * The Jews have preserved the name of this being in their 
 traditions, but erroneously attribute her creation to God, and 
 make her the first wife of Adam. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 115 
 
 mightily in him. The tenderness, the far more 
 than tenderness of a parent towards his child, drew 
 him towards his beautiful creation, and filled him 
 with bitter anguish ; but the loss of God's favour, 
 the anger of the beneficent framer of all happy 
 spirits, penetrated him with far deeper feelings, 
 and steeled him to the most desperate firmness. 
 " She shall die !" he exclaimed, " she shall die ! 
 though she be more beautiful than Zumiela, the 
 fairest shape of heaven ; more spiritual than a 
 seraph, more tender than a cherub, that daily dips 
 its wings in the ancient fountain of love. And, 
 oh God ! blot out her memory with her life ! " 
 He beheld as he spoke, the object of his search 
 before him. There was a deep valley. From a 
 wild and desolate chaos of mountains, rushed down 
 a roaring, foaming torrent, and, reaching the bot- 
 tom of the dell, spread itself out into a fair lake. 
 Rocks run at a little distance from its southern 
 bank, and trees spread their arms from the crest of 
 the cliffs towards the water, forming a living 
 canopy to the green margin beneath. There Ni- 
 char beheld Lilith radiant in her beauty, and 
 evidently pleased with the reflection of her image 
 
116 THE EXILE 
 
 in the lake ; but what was his astonishment to ob- 
 serve her surrounded by a troop of ministering 
 spirits, busily employed in paying homage to her 
 charms, crowning her with flowery garlands, and 
 dancing around her with the most lively gestures, 
 to the sound of the most voluptuous music. 
 
 He knew instantly that they were not celestial 
 natures. God's children would not approach a 
 being for whose creation a great Spirit was exiled 
 from heaven ; and rapid as is the intelligence of 
 immortal essences, he was sure that already the 
 tidings of his deed and of his fall, were known in 
 the farthest corners of the universe. He knew they 
 could not be such, though they wore distantly their 
 semblance, and as he drew near he saw through 
 their assumed beauty and brightness, the scars and 
 the tarnish of hell; he saw on their plumes the 
 indelible evidences of the indestructible fires ; he 
 saw the air of that misery which no disguise can 
 conceal, no bravery subdue, no affectation of mirth 
 obliterate ; and he traced on their brows the brand 
 of that malignancy, that burning bitterness of heart, 
 which must for ever writhe under the memory of 
 crushed ambition — shattered glory — lost felicity. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 117 
 
 and seek to vent itself in maledictions on God, and 
 in the perdition of his creatures. He gazed on them 
 in astonishment and indignation : astonishment at 
 their audacity, which had led them to invade thus 
 eatly and fearlessly this newly-created world ; and 
 indignation that they should presume to claim 
 fellowship with a life which he had designed to be 
 so perfect and glorious. But if they regarded not 
 God, were they likely to reverence himself? He 
 marched hastily towards them, to drive them from 
 their prize ; to his astonishment they beheld him 
 not with fear, but with joy. At once they raised 
 a wild cry, clapped their hands in exultation, and 
 advanced rapturously to receive him. " Welcome, 
 Nichar ! welcome, mighty angel ! welcome, thou 
 noble friend and benefactor!" they exclaimed. 
 " Thou hast opened to us a new and magnificent 
 world, and hast placed in it a fair creature, worthy 
 of our love and adoration. Welcome from the 
 slavery of Heaven to the free hearts of the free 
 rangers of creation ! Thou hast extended our 
 regions ; thou hast boldly stretched out thy hand, 
 and formed a new creature for our pleasure ; thou 
 art. worthy to be a prince and a leader amongst us. 
 
118 THE EXILE 
 
 Welcome, Niehar ! welcome, mighty angel ! to the 
 world which we might have panted after in vain 
 but for thee. Long had we watched its growth 
 and progress to perfection ; long had we hovered 
 round it, and yearned to alight upon it ; to cool our 
 burning feet on its fresh bosom ; to bathe our tor- 
 tured temples in its cool gales : but the spell of the 
 starry tyrant was upon it, his invisible chain was 
 around it, and we looked and longed in vain. Thou 
 hast dared to shiver the chain ; to annihilate the 
 ban, and we are here to welcome and follow 
 thee!" 
 
 Had the God of heaven appeared before the con- 
 founded angel, and cast upon him some new sense 
 of his anger, he could not liave been more blasted 
 and dismayed. He stood like a gigantic statue of 
 exquisite form ; pale as the chiselled marble ; silent 
 as death; his large eyes fixed stonily; his hand 
 upon his brow, and his strong, angelic faculties 
 plunged into the confused and whirling wildness of 
 a delirious dream. Slowly his consciousness re- 
 turned ; slowly he saw where he was ; recalled what 
 he had seen and heard; and felt in his spirit a 
 gathering passion of amazement, agony, and re- 
 
OF HEAVEN. 119 
 
 morse, than which hell itself could afford no more 
 terrible commingling of pain. He saw the wide 
 waste and ruin of his deed. He saw its awful and 
 immeasurable consequences coming rapidly upon 
 the world which he had marred. Never before, 
 though he had beheld the monstrous war which had 
 whirled chaos through the lovely realms of heaven, 
 and had hung over the hideous gulph which swal- 
 lowed up in its howling depths of struggling flame 
 and darkness, the rebellious legions, — never before 
 had the yawning and disastrous gates of death and 
 destruction, — vice in its loathsomeness and fearful- 
 ness, — misery in its sickening vastness, stood open 
 before him thus wide and terrible. He ! — he ! had 
 set open their infernal portals ! He ! unhappy 
 wretch ! had thus scathed in its infancy the bright 
 creation of God. He who had for ever shrunk 
 back with abhorrence from the diabolical natures, 
 had thus given to their swarming myriads free 
 charter — had thrown open to them the full range 
 of earth, and made all its coming generations the 
 prey of their insatiate and indefatigable evil. Well, 
 he thought, might the vengeance of God burn 
 against him ! justly the gates of mercy be im- 
 
120 THE EXILE 
 
 moveably closed! He had thrown the brand of 
 wickedness and rebellion upon earth, and it must 
 be his destiny to see it shoot forth its fires in ten 
 thousand terrible and devastating forms. 
 
 The overwhelming misery of Nichar's spirit 
 nothing but such a spirit can know. He groaned, 
 and sickened through the farthest depths of his 
 soul, and turned to escape from the fiery scourge of 
 his own thought; but there was no hope — no peace 
 — no escape; — eternity was before — vengeance 
 behind ; and pain, and evil, and remorse, moulded 
 into the very vitality of his being. 
 
 But the rage of his agony gave him power. He 
 rushed furiously upon the demonian troop, and 
 attempted to snatch Lilith from among them. It 
 was vain ! They closed fearlessly and firmly round 
 her, and he beheld her smile upon them in cordial 
 approbation. He had given her splendid gifts, 
 he had clothed her with beauty like a star ; he 
 had endowed her with smiles and words, whose 
 fascinations had strange might even upon spirits, 
 and with the sagacity of an angel ; but he had not 
 given her, what in his seditious act was not his to 
 bestow — the spirit of goodness. She was made to 
 
OF HEAVEN. 121 
 
 be a glittering, but disastrous meteor. To scatter 
 contagious fire amongst men ; a radiant creature, 
 whom to behold was to worship ; and whose wor- 
 ship was intoxication, discord, and death. Nichar 
 saw in a few moments most wounding and humi- 
 liating evidences of this. He called upon her to 
 come forth from amongst those lost spirits to her 
 own maker, but she smiled contemptuously on him, 
 and said : — " Art thou my maker ? If thou art, why 
 do T not remember it? But I know it not. I am, 
 and I have been as I am, to my thinking, for ever. 
 I found myself as thou, and these — but who made 
 us ? Is it necessary that we should have been made ? 
 To my thought we are immortal as this fair world, 
 and as the stars above us. But I seek thee not — 
 why seekest thou me ? Thou art stern, and dark, 
 and furious —these are gentle, and kind, and happy. 
 They love me — why should I leave them ? If thou 
 wilt join them, do me homage as they ; but, if not, 
 depart! — and if thou hast made me, what hinders 
 that thou may est make others like me for thy solace?" 
 She ceased, and looked round upon her worship- 
 pers with smiles that were expectant of applause — 
 and she received it, — the whole company shouted 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 THE EXILE 
 
 and clapped their hands for joy. But Nichary 
 burning with the agony of his tortured feelings, 
 rushed once more forward to seize her. It was as 
 vain as before. Hundreds were now around her. 
 A host confronted him, blazing out in all tlieir 
 hideous aspects, and gigantic, native statures, and 
 brandishing those meteor-swords which had been 
 terrible in heaven. He rushed impetuously upon 
 them, but felt at once that God was no longer with 
 him ; no longer that power which had enabled him 
 to sweep down whole ranks before him, dwelt in 
 his arm ; he was hurled back as by the stroke of an 
 arbalast, and amidst the hellish laughter of his foes, 
 stood overwhelmed by grief and shame. At once, 
 he beheld the infernal "crew resuming tlieir heavenly 
 semblance, rise from the earth in a dense phalanx ; 
 a golden cloud instantly rolled itself into the midst 
 of them, and, enthroning Lilith upon it, they 
 sailed majestically away to the sound of triumphal 
 music, which they had learned of old in the Happy 
 Land, and which transfixed Nichar in this moment 
 of sorrow and degradation, with the most melting 
 and agonizing memories. 
 
 The forlorn angel stood, at that instant, the 
 
OF HEAVEN. 123 
 
 most miserable of all created beings. The universe 
 had nothing to shew in its darkest, or its direst 
 regions, that could bear a comparison in wretched- 
 ness with him. The fierce pride and blasphemous 
 rage of the damned, steeled them in degree to 
 endurance, and even to a something resembling- 
 victory over their pains ; but far was Nichar from 
 such desperate consolations. An exile, a reluctant 
 exile from heaven, where his heart and his memory 
 only lingered, he was a creature utterly solitary 
 in his crime, his doom, and his sorrows. There 
 was no congenial nature to partake his destiny, to 
 whisper words of pitying love and of encourage- 
 ment; he had offended God, but every feeling of 
 his soul refused to rebel against him ; the fallen 
 spirits offered for him no fellowship, they were in 
 his eyes totally abhorrent, fearful, and disgusting ; 
 and the very being to whom he had given life, 
 identified herself with these detested spirits, and 
 appeared destined to fill him with perpetual and 
 accumulating griefs. The evil ones had evidently 
 seized upon her as the central object of their 
 intrigues and delusions upon earth. From her, 
 and consequently from him, were to be made to 
 
1'24 THE EXILE 
 
 flow all the vices and horrors with which they 
 would afflict mankind. Already the world was in 
 their possession, and the human pair — at the 
 thought of them a sudden pang passed through 
 him, and a fearful question of what might already 
 be their fate. Had these ruinous and malicious 
 ])eings succeeded in injuring or deluding them ?-^ 
 for nothing was more certain tlian that they would 
 assail them by every art and power, and fearful 
 was the chance of unsuspicious innocence, and 
 inexperience, against the subtlest and crudest 
 enemies of the world — of happy and noble natures, 
 against the vile and desperate. He trembled at 
 the idea ; and half forgetful of his sorrows, hastened 
 towards Eden to learn how it went with them. A 
 very little time shewed him the truth. He beheld 
 afar off the cloudy and flaming terrors that sur- 
 mounted the gates of Paradise ; he saw the stern 
 and fiery countenances, and flickering swords of the 
 cherubims of judgment; and soon discovered the 
 dejected parents of men in a situation, how dif- 
 ferent from their garden-home ! They had taken 
 up their abode in the open wilderness. By the 
 margin of a river, beneath a spreading tree, Adam 
 
OF HEAVEN. 125 
 
 was attempting to construct a sort of slied of reeds 
 and boughs to protect them from the cold nightly 
 dews which fell here, and from the scorching noon 
 sun, which burned up the vegetation around. Eve 
 was returning from the heath, laden with wild 
 flowers, which she had rooted up from the desert 
 turf, and was bringing homewards in a large lotus 
 leaf. Their fine forms were disfigured by being 
 wrapped in shaggy skins, and a shade had passed 
 over that joyous beauty which was once theirs. 
 Adam pursued his labour silently, and with a 
 melancholy look; and Eve, as she planted her 
 flowers around their dwelling, and strove to dispose 
 them in the most tasteful order, evidently was 
 thinking of the bowers, the glorious blossoms, the 
 rich spontaneous fruits of the lost Eden, for as she 
 stooped over her drooping plants, she watered 
 them with her tears. 
 
 The scene was too much for Nichar — these were 
 his works. To him they owed their toils and 
 sorrows, — toil full of bitterness, sorrow full of fear 
 of its future increase, — he fled. 
 
126 THE EXILE 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Oh ! for some desolate region," Nichar exclaimed, 
 inwardly, " where I might at least be spared the 
 pain of witnessing what I long in vain to redress !" 
 The bright summits of the distant mountains caught 
 his eye, and he directed his course thitherward. 
 They were regions desolate enough, even for his 
 wish. High and higher, far and farther he as- 
 -cended, amidst crags, chasms, and nodding pre- 
 cipices, till he beheld before him a wide ocean, 
 as it were, of peaks stretched in every direction, 
 and all wrapped in the whiteness of eternal winter. 
 There was neither tree nor shrub, nor the voice 
 of any bird, nor the foot-prints of any beast. 
 Heavy rocks stooped here and there over narrow, 
 frozen glens ; in some places natural pyramids, and 
 sharp taper obelisks shot up high into the clear, cold 
 heavens; in others, stupendous precipices, reared 
 themselves in opposition, till their foreheads nearly 
 met in the gloom of their own deep shadows: 
 
OF HEAVEN. 127 
 
 and dark rents, which seemed unfathomable, were 
 horrid with dependent ice, and the sound of falling 
 waters. In the calmest moments a wind sighed 
 and moaned amongst the hills, and ever and anon 
 came blustrous tempests, that filled the whole 
 region as with thunder, and wrapped everything 
 in a black chaos of clouds and fiercely-driving 
 hail. By day, the sun shot down his naked rays 
 fiercely, and the snows rushed in melted and 
 resounding torrents down the dells and abysses ; 
 but night came, and frost, with a sudden and iron 
 grasp, checked every stream, hushed every sound, 
 and the moon and stars in resplendent beauty, 
 sailed over realms as silent as their own. It was 
 a region to have appalled and subdued the stoutest 
 human spirit, and to have aroused a longing after 
 human society in the soul of the saddest misan- 
 thrope, could human life have there existed; but 
 Nichar had within him, a desolation which made 
 all without dim and insensible. • The spirit of self- 
 accusation was in his soul like an undying fire, — 
 baffled hopes clung round him like adamantine 
 chains — and despair, with a dull and consuming 
 weight, pressed upon his soul, and rendered him 
 
1*28 THE EXILE 
 
 feeble as a dying man. At times he would sit 
 day and night, for the space of a moon, on some 
 lofty crag, as if contemplating the scene below, 
 but unconscious of its presence. At times he 
 threw himself into a chill cavern which overlooked 
 a horrible abyss, that swallowing a mighty torrent, 
 sent up an eternal dissonance and vapour. Thus, 
 in the deadly lassitude of demolished hope, or 
 when his spirit awoke to some more lively per- 
 ception of its energies, in vain dreams of all he 
 once enjoyed, and an equally vain labour of his 
 faculties to strike out some scheme to which hope 
 might link itself and arouse him to his fondest 
 object, — the destruction of Lilith, — days, weeks, 
 months, and years passed away. At length he 
 once more shook from his wings the lethargy that 
 had so long oppressed them, and in the strength, 
 not of exultation, but of despair, he bent his flight 
 to the lower earth. 
 
 He speedily saw that striking changes had been 
 wrought in the world, since he last gazed on it. 
 Dense and shaggy forests had spread themselves 
 over immense regions. The inferior animals had 
 multiplied by thousands, and peopled air, water. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 129 
 
 and field. The clang and cries of birds, the roar 
 and bellowing- of beasts, everywhere resounded. 
 Many-coloured wings flitted amongst the tree- 
 tops ; the wild ass, the horse, and striped zebra, in 
 untamed troops, scoured the hills and plains, and 
 the lordly elephant moved in calm majesty through 
 the woods. But evil ! evil was amongst them ! 
 There was blood and oppression, the roar of 
 devouring rage, the shriek of the suffering victim 
 everywhere ; and Nichar knew that the curse of 
 his deed was going on in its strength. 
 
 He again beheld the human habitation. It had 
 assumed a more cheerful and home-like aspect. 
 Climbing plants had hidden the reeds, and over- 
 grown them with beauty and blossoms. The more 
 gentle creatures had congregated around it, as if 
 they retained their primal allegiance to man. The 
 milk-white dove, like an emblem of purity and 
 domestic affection, basked upon its roof; the 
 swallow made its nest there, and twittered as with 
 the voice of contentment; beasts of various kinds 
 reposed in the fields around ; and, sporting with 
 the kid and the lamb on the heath, he beheld the 
 first two children of the race — creatures fair as the 
 g3 
 
130 _ THE EXILE 
 
 cherubim of heaven. Could he have banished from 
 his bosom all prescience and reflection, over these 
 he would have wept tears of joy, and have lingered 
 near them with a feeling of reviving happiness ; 
 but he knew too well, what woe and change hung 
 over them ! He knew how the leaven of darkness 
 would mould their forms' and natures into some- 
 thing widely different to what they then were. 
 How from those soft and blooming germs, must 
 spring stems of ruggedness — hardness that would 
 inflict — or gentleness that must suffer evil; and he 
 turned away in bitterness, that his deed could blast 
 things lovely and happy as these. 
 
 He beheld Adam come forth to his morninfr 
 sacrifice. Time had yet made no sensible change 
 in his person, except conferring a deeper gravity 
 of aspect; but in his fallen state, he still walked 
 erect as the lord of the world; and his stately 
 tread — his majestic frame and countenance — his 
 locks, that shook their crisped gold upon his ample 
 shoulders, were kingly. Eve followed, glowing 
 in matronly beauty, and with looks of reverence 
 and regard, that proved that the fall had not been 
 able to alienate the first affections of the pair. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 131 
 
 Nichar gazed on them with wonder and admi- 
 ration. The father of men stood and raised his 
 noble countenance to heaven ; the universal mother 
 knelt by the altar of turf, — her figure bending in 
 the most graceful attitude, and her face hidden 
 by her affluent locks, that fell in a cloud to the 
 ground. The sun ascended the eastern sky and 
 cast his freshest beams on them, on the dewy earth, 
 and on the woods around, loud with the matin 
 melodies of birds. It was a beautiful and an 
 animating picture, and the silent angel was ready 
 to exclaim — " Evil has yet achieved no important 
 victory over these happy beings !" When, how- 
 ever, Adam lifted up his voice to God, the spirit 
 of thankfulness and of fervent piety gave a solemn 
 eloquence to his tongue, but these were soon lost 
 in prayers for help and comfort ; help against the 
 indefatigable malice of the tempter — against the 
 continual failings and feelings of his own corrupted 
 nature ! and for comfort to his spirit, assailed by 
 bitter memories from the past, and fears and 
 despondence from the future — by fears of death 
 here, and of deluded hopes in the hereafter. 
 While the first man uttered these melancholy 
 
132 THE EXILE 
 
 aspirations, and every moment grew more and 
 more vehement in supplication, Nicliar cast Lis 
 eyes to the ground, and beheld Eve fallen pros- 
 trate at the foot of the altar, her hands wreathed 
 wildly in her hair, and her whole frame trembling 
 with the agitation of wretchedness. 
 
 It was here ! — he beheld it ! His work had not 
 missed its effect. Misery had made man his 
 certain prey. The light and glory of his life 
 were gone — he was a creature of fear and mortal 
 care. Calmness might assume its place on his 
 brow, but it had no security, or permanent abode 
 there : passion and pain soon hurled it from its 
 station — the barb was still in the wounded hearty 
 and would rankle for ever ! 
 
 The weeping and self-accusing angel turned 
 away. His woe admitted of no aggravation, — to 
 have lost his own happiness, and have destroyed 
 that of a world, were his crime and his doom ; the 
 only poor consolation yet left him, was to fly from 
 the presence of the evil which he had awoke, but 
 had no power to arre&t, — he fled. 
 
 He pursued his flight indifferent to its direction ; 
 his thoughts were in the scene which he had wit- 
 
OF HEAVEN. 133 
 
 iiessed; but presently liis attention was aroused 
 by the appearance of an angel whom he beheld 
 rapidly careering in the distance. Another and 
 another followed. At the first view they appeared 
 spirits of heaven, but he quickly recognised them 
 as belonging to the fallen legions. He observed, 
 too, that more every moment shewed themselves in 
 the same track, issuing from or speeding to one 
 point in the horizon. In that direction, he felt 
 persuaded, lay the place of their resort — the place 
 whither they had conveyed Lilith. An instant, an 
 irresistible desire seized him to discover it. As 
 his only means of effecting his design, he took the 
 hated form and aspect of one of the accursed tribe 
 - — the assumed shape of heaven, which they were 
 proud to wear, but which shewed through it the 
 traces of internal ruin. He loathed the disguise, — 
 he would fain have nought in common with the 
 detested race ; but could he effect through it the 
 destruction of their pernicious prize — of Lilith, 
 he deemed it cheaply won. 
 
 It was near sunset, when, as he reached the 
 summit of a lofty chain of hills, he beheld, at once, 
 below him, a mighty and most magnificent city. 
 
134 THE EXILE 
 
 It occupied the whole area of a wide, delicious 
 valley, round which the hills on which he rested, 
 ran in a fine but irregular sweep, leaving at the 
 east an opening through which a great river, after 
 having traversed the city in a multitude of separate 
 streams, rolled its re-united waters. The walls, 
 which glowed in the last rays of the west, like 
 molten gold, were of a stupendous height, crowned 
 at intervals with towers, and stretched along the 
 feet of the hills in a sinuous circuit of twenty 
 leagues. It was a city, calculated by its amplitude 
 and splendour, for the capital of the world. Within, 
 palaces and temples of glorious aspect and vast 
 dimensions were seen, scattered amidst the most 
 delightful gardens, groves, flowery fields, and 
 gleaming waters ; around it, the mountains sloped 
 away in many wild and beautiful forms, ex4iibiting 
 open, heathy tracts, deep glens, dark forests, and 
 every feature that can attract the eye and the 
 imagination ; while the very heavens, as if emulous 
 to do honour to so noble a city, glowed westward 
 one wide flush of crimson j and its clouds, resting 
 their extremities on the glittering peaks of the 
 mountains, stretched through the blue concave in 
 
OF HEAVEN. 135 
 
 vaulted lines and masses of tumultuous, billowy, 
 and fretted gold, of the intensest lustre and of 
 various hues, — a gorgeous and indescribable 
 canopy ! 
 
 As Nichar gazed upon it, in sad and boding 
 wonder, a passing spirit alighted, and fixed upon 
 him a regard full of surprise and curiosity. 
 "Whence comest thou, melancholy spirit?" he 
 said advancing, "for I recognise thee not. Yet, 
 methinks thou art one of our race, and shouldst 
 not therefore be all unknown." 
 
 " It matters little," Nichar replied, " who I am, 
 it is enough that I am wretched. Canst thou give 
 me rest?" 
 
 " Rest ! Are not thine eyes, even now, on the 
 city of rest ?" he asked. 
 
 " I see a city," said Nichar, " but I know not 
 whether rest be there — I know not even its name." 
 
 " Knowest thou not its name !" exclaimed the 
 spirit in the highest surprise, <"' then again I say, — 
 who art thou? Art thou from the Fiery Land, 
 and hast thou not heard of Ukinim, the city of the 
 bricks of gold? Hast thou trodden the burning 
 soil of Tartarus, and sighed for ages to escape to 
 
136 THE EXILE 
 
 some more temperate clime, and didst not heal* 
 that triumphant acclaim which resounded through 
 the dolorous regions, — that earth, the new," the 
 fair, the delightful earth was ours? Didst thou 
 not hear it? Didst thou not echo it, with a 
 million of voices, that with one sudden and astound* 
 ing shout, burst wide the gates of torture, and 
 gave egress to ten thousand uncontrolable spirits, 
 that with frantic avidity fled forth at the glorious 
 tidings? Wast thou not one? Canst thou be 
 but newly arrived ? Hast thou wandered far into 
 some obscure corner of the universe, and hast not 
 heard ; but what nook is so obscure, so distant, 
 that the glad news has not reached ? The wingless 
 and unwieldy natures of the fiery deeps, — those vast 
 monsters which are plunged into the molten floods 
 of pain, to make torment more horrible, — lift up 
 their dragon heads, and fill hell with their hideous 
 cries, at the description of these delicious abodes. 
 How, I ask thee again, art thou a stranger here?" 
 " I am not ignorant of this," said Nichar, — 
 '' these tidings have not escaped me. I have heard 
 too of Lilith; dwells she not here?" 
 
OF HEAVEN. 137 
 
 "Yes," said the spirit, " seest tliou not the 
 august fabric which crowns the central mount of 
 the city? Seest thou not its glittering roof, its 
 fair front, its long colonnades, its groves and 
 gardens that stretch far down the slope ? — that is 
 her abode, her palace, and her temple. Thou 
 hast not seen her ? Thou shalt see her in all her 
 beauty. The fairest thing that ever yet was 
 formed! She was the work of an angel. Let 
 the despot pf heaven boast no more of his omni- 
 potent skill ! An angel has moulded the most 
 glorious of created beings ; and God — a jealous 
 Godj well doth he call himself — has expelled him 
 from heaven. Thou shalt see her ! There she 
 dwells in her radiant loveliness. There also stands 
 her image, fair as herself, though but a lifeless 
 marble, ready to receive the homage of mankind — 
 that one day shall pour in thousands through 
 these gates. Yes ! her charms, moulded in the 
 similitude of their race, but infinitely transcending 
 those of the woman, or those of all her daughters 
 yet to be, shall lead the whole tribe captive. They 
 are ours, yes, even before they are born ! We 
 shall be their gods ! Already a thousand temples 
 
138 THE EXILE 
 
 are in Ukinim, each tenanted with the marble or 
 molten image of our chiefs ; each standing with 
 open portals; and men shall enter and worship. 
 Wouldst thou win a shrine ? Be bold, and thou 
 mayest. But come, let us enter, and see how 
 fair Ukinim is." 
 
 At once they stretched their wings and descended. 
 As they approached, Nichar was impressed with 
 increasing astonishment. The walls were lofty, as 
 though they would defy all but spiritual ingress, and 
 massy as if built for eternity. The bricks, of solid 
 and refulgent gold, were such as men with all their 
 science could not raise. The gates were of sheeted 
 adamant, set in a heavy frame-work of embossed 
 gold, and imbedded in pondrous towers of the same 
 precious metal. Their opening was like the re- 
 moving of a mountain, but eifected with the har- 
 monious ease of the lightest wicket. But when 
 they entered, how enchanting was the effect ! In- 
 numerable flowers, of wonderful forms and colours, 
 filled the air with their balmy odour ; the fig, the 
 vine, the date, and palm, exhibited every where 
 their luxuriant forms, and a thousand other beau- 
 teous trees showered their blossoms on the path. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 139 
 
 and extended their fruits to the hand; fountains 
 were seen scattering their silvery waters on fair 
 lawns, and the most exquisite statues discovered 
 themselves at every turn. 
 
 Round the whole city ran a broad terrace of 
 white marble, so broad that a nation might walk 
 there, leading on the one hand by flights of easy 
 steps up to the towers on the wall, and on the other 
 by similar ones down into the gardens and groves 
 of the city, which from this elevation lay in one 
 wide view of beauty and magnificence. Fountains 
 and statuary adorned the terrace through its whole 
 extent, and the softest breezes reached it with their 
 inspiriting freshness. It was a work on which the 
 eye of Nichar, although accustomed to the architec- 
 ture of heaven, rested with the deepest wonder. 
 
 But the wonder was increased when he turned to 
 the city itself. It was a city of palaces ! Vast 
 chains of those splendid buildings stretched far as 
 the eye could reach, overlooking the loveliest 
 scenes; but the far greater number were situated 
 each in the midst of its own paradise. Magnificent 
 arcades, formed of columns of surprising loftiness 
 and of the richest material and workmanship, formed 
 
140 THE EXILE 
 
 imposing" approaches to many, keeping the spec- 
 tator, as he advanced, in equal admiration of their 
 own nobility, and of the varied openings which pre- 
 sented themselves on either hand into delicious 
 gardens, lawns beautified by the choicest creations 
 of the sculptor, and cool, shadowy labyrinths of 
 wood and copse. The structures themselves were 
 of various species of marble — the roofs uniformly 
 of burnished gold ; colonnades and peristyles whose 
 towering columns were of pure' sardonyx or sa- 
 phire, adorned their fronts, and bore pediments and 
 freizes where the most animated groups were 
 WTOught in bas-relief. Within, the scene of luxu- 
 rious splendour was marvellous. Halls of imperial 
 amplitude presented on all sides paintings in which, 
 to the truth and vivacity of life, were added the 
 richness of imagination, and the intensest interest 
 of extraordinary events. We gaze in enchantment 
 on the works of our fellow men, and are ready to 
 deify those whose hands have portrayed scenes in 
 which we live a higher life than that of earth, 
 and gather feelings and aspirations that lift us to- 
 wards more intellectual worlds : but here the artists 
 were amongst the highest intelligences of God's 
 
OF HEAVEN. 141 
 
 formation ; they had seen, themselves, in the heaven 
 of heavens, those mysterious shapes of loveliness 
 and grandeur which enter only feebly into the 
 dreams of men ; they had been themselves agents 
 in the mighty events which they recorded, and 
 limned them with the pencils of an immortal regret. 
 They were the wars of heaven ; — ^ faithful in their 
 enchanting scenery, but ingeniously disposed so as 
 to develope all the heroic strength and daring, but 
 to conceal the defeat of those who fell. Nichar 
 wandered from scene to scene in a dream of wonder 
 and memory. At every step he encountered forms 
 and features, which were now lost for ever to hea- 
 ven ; fallen, darkened, and disfigured by woe and 
 evil passions, or which still blooming in heaven, 
 were for ever lost to him. Oh ! spirits of ancient 
 friendship ! divine creatures of his everlasting at- 
 tachment ! how his eye fixed itself on their celestial 
 lineaments, beaming with benignity and bliss, and 
 refused to withdraw till the sense of the gulf be- 
 tween them rushed upon him; and he groaned 
 bitterly, and passed on. \Yhen he turned his gaze 
 from these, it was met on all sides by chiselled 
 forms, which he recognised as wholly belonging to 
 
142 THE EXILE 
 
 the fallen race. There they stood, imaged in their 
 primeval beauty, without one trace of the scathing 
 thunder, or one withering stain. Nichar gazed in 
 trembling amazement at the audacity of their pre- 
 sumption. One arch-rebel had even assumed the 
 lightnings of the Most High; others had clothed 
 themselves in the attributes of strength, wisdom, or 
 benevolence ; all bore the insignia of godhead and 
 dominion; forms that in after ages won the worship 
 of wisest nations, and spread their power and re- 
 nown through the earth. 
 
 A strain of wild music suddenly awoke, and 
 Nichar started from the reverie into which these 
 objects had thrown him, to behold a scene of the 
 most magical fascination. A thousand brilliant 
 lamps filled with splendour those superb halls, and 
 cast their blaze, like stars, upon those transparent 
 floors of ruby or amethyst, where he who trod be- 
 held his reflection below him as in a mirror; around 
 him numberless spirits, in glorious shapes, went to 
 and fro, in sportive or eager converse, and through 
 a lofty, open door, he saw various groups, dancing 
 to the sound of that music which had startled him. 
 Without, gleamed far and wide innumerable lights, 
 
OF HEAVEN. 143 
 
 diffusing a fairy splendour over the gardens and 
 bosky walks, where creatures, as apparently happy 
 as they were beautiful, were enjoying the evening 
 coolness, and the fresh flowery odours that belong 
 to it. It was a spectacle to deceive all but a spirit 
 — it deceived not Nichar ; he saw in it the maniac 
 mirth that laughs in the grasp of perdition, and 
 wears only the semblance of happiness tliat it may 
 destroy its reality in others. He felt a sense of 
 guilt in lingering amongst them ; but he thought of 
 Lilith, and determined to proceed. He ascended 
 the mount of her abode. He surveyed that abode 
 with wonder still more excited ; — it was the perfec- 
 tion of spiritual workmanship ; and her image, 
 placed in her voluptuous shrine, was so living a 
 resemblance, that he was near rushing upon it to 
 strike it to the ground for herself. But she ! — 
 who can describe the enchantments of her inner- 
 most pavilion, and of herself? There, amidst 
 every miracle of art which the most subtle and 
 ingenious spirits could execute — in an apartment 
 furnished for luxurious ease, with every combina- 
 tion of silken softness and imperial grandeur which 
 the loftiest and most refined beings could sigh for. 
 
144 THE EXILE 
 
 or command, sate that refulgent and voluptuous 
 figure, worshipped in after ages at a thousand 
 shrines with passionate devotion, as the goddess of 
 Beauty and Love. Innumerable spirits thronged 
 around, ready with unwearied zeal to spread before 
 her the luxuries of every clime, and to solace her 
 with music and the incense of flatteries and sighs. 
 By night, they guarded the apartment of her repose 
 with sleepless vigilance, and in forms of living fire ; 
 by day, when she issued abroad into her luxurious 
 gardens, or trod majestically the cool pavement of 
 some breezy colonnade, they attended her in 
 A^arious guises : some, as great and gallant spirits ; 
 some, as light and laughing nymphs; and others, 
 sporting before her as winged and infantine 
 cherubim ; or mounting her gorgeous bark, to the 
 sound of triumphal music, they spread their purple 
 sails, and glided in dreaming luxury through the 
 fair scenery which the great river commanded ! 
 
 Such was this dazzling creature — such the mode 
 of her existence. Even Nichar could not avoid 
 the admiration which her presence excited, but it 
 was fraught with no feeling of attachment or of 
 homage. He had sufl'ered too severely for her 
 
OF HEAVEN. 145 
 
 sake ; he had seen too clearly the determined evil 
 of her nature ; he beheld with too deep and indig- 
 nant a sentiment, the ruinous lure which through 
 her was spread for mankind. A fixed and deadly 
 purpose possessed his soul, which these scenes 
 only seemed to strengthen; it was to strike at 
 once, and for ever, this fair mischief from the 
 earth. She was moulded of dust, and therefore 
 partook of mortality, — but she was surrounded by 
 watchful and unclosing eyes. Day and night he 
 waited anxiously for some moment of incaution, 
 but in vain. He mingled in the crowd that sur- 
 rounded her, but he came not too near, for he 
 disdained to bow his head before her ; he could 
 launch an arrow from some shadowy nook, but 
 numberless hands, with the speed of lightning, 
 would dart forth to snatch it ere it reached her, 
 and all hell would turn upon him, and overwhelm 
 him with vengeance for his vainly attempted deed. 
 Days, months, years, he followed his object with 
 invincible patience and admirable art, but it 
 brought him no nearer to his aim ; whilst it every 
 day became more and more arduous. His melan- 
 choly aspect often caught the quick eyes of, the 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 THE EXILE 
 
 Spirits of evil. It did not escape them, that he 
 failed to adore their idol. Their suspicions were 
 awoke, and many eyes were on him when he ob- 
 served them not ; yet he felt that he was an object 
 of distrust, and knew not how soon they might 
 penetrate his intention. It was necessary to be at 
 once circumspect and resolved. His object was 
 dear to his soul as heaven itself, but it must be 
 speedily accomplished, or abandoned for ever. He 
 was consumed by inexpressible anxiety. Still he 
 watched, and waited, and hoped in vain. The 
 same pageants were before him, the same eyes 
 around ; but not a moment came, in which he might 
 dare his attempt with probability of success, though 
 he himself were overwhelmed with the whole 
 weight of infernal vengeance. At length, such an 
 instant seemed his. Unexpectedly — suddenly it 
 came upon him. As he entered a grotto in the 
 gardens of Lilith, about noon, he saw a figure 
 reposing in the shade. It was her's ! in all her 
 glowing beauty ! — She lay, and slept ! — He stood 
 during a moment of suspicious wonder; — it was 
 i^he ! and no creature near — not one attendant 
 spirit — not one living and vigilant eye ! It was a 
 
OF HEAVEN. 147 
 
 crisis not to be lost, — he darted towards her, and 
 grasped her throat with the energy of unutter- 
 able hate. Her features darkened — they changed ! 
 — her wild eyes flashed open with a dreadful glare, 
 and instead of Liiith's, the hideous visage of Mel- 
 drec, the most cunning and malignant of the 
 fiendish crew, was fixed on him with a sneer of 
 triumphant scorn and rage. He recoiled from the 
 detested vision ! he relaxed his grasp, — and the 
 fiend, starting up in his own stature and likeness, 
 uttered a laugh, whose infernal horror woke a mul- 
 titude of echoes diabolical as itself. " Traitor ! " 
 he exclaimed, " have I unmasked tliee ? And now 
 thou shalt pay the price of thy temerity and de- 
 ceit !" A moment, and the whole tribe would be 
 upon him. At one bound, Nichar cleared the 
 adjoining wall, shot from the city, and darted with 
 all the velocity of his nature into the depths of 
 space. Shame, disappointment, cruel and irreme- 
 diable disappointment, stung him to madness, and 
 gave impetus to his wing. Another moment, and 
 a host of infuriated spirits swept like a dark cloud 
 over the walls of Ukinim, and pursued him with 
 the impetuosity of hate. The strife was keen, and 
 
J 48 THE EXILE 
 
 arduous, and uncertain. The most powerful pas- 
 sions, both in pursuers and pursued, urged them 
 on. But Nichar recked little for their malice; 
 fiercer tormentors than they, were in his bosom; 
 he was a mighty angel, and perhaps, though he 
 deemed himself adandoned, heaven might favour 
 his flight : — he prevailed ! His implacable foes 
 returned to earth, and he, abjuring it in his soul 
 for ever, pursued his solitary flight through space. 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 It was a melancholy journey on which Nichar 
 was bound. In the earth which he left, hope had 
 abandoned him; in the ten thousand worlds which 
 lay before him, it dwelt not for him. His spirit, 
 perpetually mourning over its error, and its tre- 
 mendous consequences, had exerted all its powers, 
 called forth all its ingenuity, consumed all its 
 prayers to quench the evil which it had elicited ; 
 
OF HEAVEN. 149 
 
 but it had now assumed a shape and vigour which 
 mocked his individual efforts. It was not for him to 
 cope with united hell ; and God shrouded himself 
 in inexorable silence. Earth therefore offered to 
 him but despair and its worst agonies; and the 
 wide world-peopled universe, what did it promise ? 
 the melancholy liberty of the restless spirit, which, 
 wrung with its internal and ever-urging pain, 
 " seeketh rest but findeth it not." He sped on — 
 and as he winged his way across the mighty flood 
 of eternity, and beheld his form imaged in its 
 silent depths, he was struck with horror at the 
 change which woe and despair had wrought in 
 him. That high and glorious form which he wore 
 in the glad land of heaven, now floated onward - 
 like a dim and waning meteor; and his grief- 
 darkened countenance, changed as that of a spirit 
 of evil, was the saddest sight in nature, since its 
 expression was not that of malignancy, but woe. 
 He involuntarily shrunk back from his course — 
 that star, towards which he was advancing, thougli 
 beaming at the distance of many million leagues, 
 appeared already too near. On what light and 
 happy coast would he dare to shew that melancholy 
 
150 THE EXILE 
 
 ruin of a form? What had he to do with sun- 
 shine, and the sounds of contented existence? 
 No ! some dismal globe, some chaos of death and 
 silence, would be more welcome objects. He 
 turned aside, pursued another course, and anon 
 descried a faint orb glimmering before him. He 
 approached. It was a dreary and lifeless object : 
 a globe covered with an universal sea. No moun- 
 tains broke its surface, no islands studded its watery 
 bosom, no creatures were visible in its mighty 
 depths, — it was a regular, but unanimated sphere. 
 But Nichar saw that the presence of God was 
 there ; his spirit hovered over it, preparing it for 
 the future abode of life. Anon it reeled, as with 
 some mighty but unseen stroke; a low, hollow 
 murmur came as from its heart. Its waters, one 
 moment motionless as a mirror, the next were 
 hurried to and fro, and became covered with a 
 dark foam. Louder, more threatening sounds, 
 like internal thunders, broke from the bosom of 
 the labouring globe ; it shuddered and staggered, 
 as if its huge frame was rent with convulsive 
 pangs. Its waves were thrown against the very 
 heavens; louder and wilder became the internal 
 
OF HEAVEN. 151 
 
 roar of wrath, till with one astounding explosion, 
 rocks, flames, tempests of smoke and darkness, 
 rushed up from the very depths of the waters into 
 the sky, with the most horrible and indescribable 
 combination of all furious and raging sounds. The 
 whole frame of the planet seemed shattered at a 
 stroke. The ocean recoiled with inconceivable 
 precipitancy, leaving bare the torn and slimy ribs 
 of the submarine rocks ; but returning with instant 
 and headlong force, its turbid waters plunged into 
 the flaming gulph, and filled it with tenfold and 
 horrible uproar. An once a howl, as of a million 
 of spirits in pain, was heard; and immense columns 
 of hissing, roaring, shrieking steam, tore wider the 
 monstrous abyss, and flashed into the sky, mingled 
 with the voracious flames. The thunderings, the 
 lightnings, the rage of the tremendous, conflicting 
 elements, the whirling volumes of clouds, the 
 darkness, the flames, were confounded together 
 in one scene of ineffable and chaotic horror. The 
 angel looked on in silent awe ; and marked that it 
 was not in one spot only that the tumult had broke 
 out, but that in a thousand places the afflicted 
 globe was disrupted by its rebellious elements, and 
 
152 THE EXILE 
 
 poured forth deafening thunders, and torrents of 
 liquid flames. As he gazed silently, he saw sud- 
 denly a still more marvellous spectacle. He saw 
 the solid mass of the globe heave itself from the 
 waters which had covered it, and lift itself here 
 and there, in mountains and chains of mountains, 
 to the very clouds. Like giants rising from the 
 sleep in which they were created, these enormous 
 masses of eternal rock raised themselves, — huge, 
 dark, and silent, and stood where they should stand 
 for countless ages, — the bulwarks and the wonder 
 of future beings. By degrees the fiery evolutions 
 abated, but the world was not at rest Its whole 
 surface, from hemisphere to hemisphere, heaved 
 and undulated like heavy waters, and the most 
 dolorous and melancholy sounds and wailings were 
 heard throughout all its regions. But Nichar saw 
 that the most astonishing changes had been 
 effected. The ocean, which before had covered 
 the whole world, had shrunk into half its former 
 apparent size. It had retreated into the depths 
 and hollows of the lacerated globe; and had left 
 bare, vast continents and islands, and ridges of 
 awful hills. It was a scene of the most terrific 
 
OF HEAVEN. 153 
 
 desolation. The world appeared shattered to 
 pieces, rent, and dislocated, and thrown back into 
 primeval chaos. All was naked ruin, dreary and 
 repulsive ; but Nichar saw that a great and bene- 
 ficent work was done. He saw that valleys, and 
 hills, and the sources of a myriad streams were 
 prepared; he saw that time would clothe their 
 grim and ruinous regions with beauty and fertility; 
 and that God would one day kindle there, the life 
 which should rejoice in itself, and in him M^ho gave 
 it. He felt how wide was the space between him, 
 who out of confusion produces harmony and hap- 
 piness, and him, who in the midst of what is good, 
 scatters crime and misery ; and he wept, confessed 
 his guilt, and went softly on his way. 
 
 It was not long ere he. approached another and 
 larger planet of the same system. It was already 
 the abode of life — but what life ? That of vast and 
 bestial natures. It had passed, he discovered, 
 through preparatory convulsions similar to those of 
 the one he had just quitted. Its oceans and conti- 
 nents, its mountains and valleys, had assumed their 
 places and characters, and were becoming daily 
 more fitted for existence. The deep slime which 
 h3 
 
154 THE EXILE 
 
 the displaced ocean had left upon its plains, was 
 becoming gradually dry and solid ; and vegetation, 
 with a wonderful luxuriance, had sprung up and 
 covered them. There were, it was true, immense 
 regions of dreary and impassable morasses ; and the 
 streams not having yet worn for themselves well- 
 defined channels, spread far and wide, and made 
 vast tracts, unapproachable except to birds and am- 
 phibious creatures. The ocean abounded with life. 
 Whales, almost numberless, sported unwieldily in 
 wide, solitary waters, undisturbed by enemies ; and 
 wonderful creatures, like large and living ships, 
 furnished with paddles instead of feet, with long 
 and finely tapered bodies, glittering with scales of 
 every hue, and rearing aloft tlieir arched, serpentine 
 necks, darted to' and fro on the waves with the 
 speed of lightning. Their keen, sharp heads fur- 
 nished with large resplendent eyes, plunged ever 
 and anon into the deep, and brought up their 
 never-failing prey. By the broad and abundant 
 rivers, similar creatures basked mth the ferocious 
 crocodile amongst the floating lilies and lotus flow- 
 ers, or lurked amid the lofty reeds and palm-like 
 ferns. Throughout the vast plains, the mammoth. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 155 
 
 the mastodon, tlie megalonix, the elephant, and 
 other colossal animals ranged in lordly freedom and 
 power, and filled the whole world with their bel- 
 lowings. They lay hidden in the rank and reed- 
 like grass, that tall as a moderate tree, spread over 
 the plains and concealed their gigantic bodies even 
 as they walked; — they roamed through the thick, 
 dark forests, or collecting on the open, bare emi- 
 nences in infinite numbers, engaged in unwieldy 
 gambols, or rushed to combats of tempestuous fury, 
 A dreamy intelligence lit up their eyes, which fixed 
 in heads of sucli gigantic proportions, gave them 
 the appearance of spirits imprisoned in moving 
 mountains of matter. They were the rulers of the 
 world ! but there was nothing of a smaller fabric to 
 suffer from their oppressions, and nothing to resist 
 their will, except serpents of equally monstrous 
 bulk, that coiled round the forest tree, or moved 
 across the immense savannahs, their crested and 
 glittering heads seen gliding like gorgeous meteors 
 above the ocean of waving grass ; or flaming at the 
 foot of a sunny cliff in their dazzling scales of 
 green and gold and scarlet, warned the strong beasts 
 with their brandished whispering tongues from 
 
156 THE EXILE 
 
 their haunts. It was a scene which filled Nichar 
 with wonder. He w^atched the crimson-crested and 
 winged dragons pursue from cliff to cliff the large 
 birds of ocean ; he saw the ponderous hippopotamus 
 and tapir, plunge sullenly in the river deeps as he 
 approached; he beheld the jocund and wind- winged 
 unicorns scour the rocky hills, and great and won- 
 drous brutes for which we have now no names, and 
 he queried wherefore the divine Wisdom had created 
 a world only to give it up to such monstrous and 
 irrational natures. A moment's reflection, however, 
 suggested to him, that it might be only produced 
 by that benevolent spirit, which fills every portion 
 of the universe with life and its attendant enjoy- 
 ment, whilst it prepared the world for future and 
 nobler existences ; to convert its rapid and rampant 
 vegetation into soil, till another change should sweep 
 them away ; and even now, while he pondered on 
 their destiny, their time was come. The ocean 
 rising with all its billows, rushed over the lands, 
 and again retiring, left the huge carcasses of the 
 bestial generation imbedded in its mud. The sun 
 again speedily dried the reeking surface, green and 
 tender herbage began to spring, trees to shoot 
 
OF HEAVEN. 157 
 
 vigorously from the deep, soft earth to replace 
 those which the torrents had laid prostrate; and 
 Nichar beheld a world preparing itself speedily for 
 its last and noblest family. Already he felt the 
 approach of the divine presence, hastening to com- 
 plete the work of ages, and he sped into the wilder- 
 ness of space. 
 
 Whither he directed his flight, we know not. 
 Like a mysterious comet, he passed beyond the 
 boundaries of our system, and visited worlds and 
 forms of being, of which we have no intelligence, 
 and after which our flagging imagination pants in 
 vain. At length — it was after the lapse of centuries 
 — he stood once more upon the earth. As we 
 know not the mysterious realms through which he 
 passed in his long and unrevealed sojourn, neither 
 do we know what he had suffered, not what had led 
 him back again to the scene of his former sorrows. 
 But it is probable, that the rest which he found 
 not here, was indiscoverable in every other region 
 of the universe ; it is probable that his fate had 
 bound him to our little planet; that his curiosity 
 and anxiety drove him hitherward, to inquire once 
 more into the consequences of his presumptous act. 
 
158 THE EXILE 
 
 Perhaps too, he might hope that time had effecteci 
 more than he himself had been able to do; that 
 God, perhaps, had ere then arisen to rescue his 
 creation from the infernal natures, and had expelled 
 them from the earth. Whatever were the hopes 
 or motives which had attracted him, he stood once 
 more on our planet, and in a moment's glance com- 
 prehended an infinitude of pain and disappointment. 
 The curse was still operating there, with tremen- 
 dous, far-spread, and daily accelerating force. The 
 demons were in power and multitude resistless. 
 Man had multiplied in incredible numbers, and 
 crime and toil had rolled over the earth like a vast 
 and desolating torrent. The first-born man had 
 killed his brother. Those two cherub-like creatures 
 on which he had gazed with tears of affectionate 
 and painful sympathy, had grown up, one to a 
 murderer, the other to his victim ! The race had 
 been rent into two tribes ; the one abandoning, the 
 other abhorring its counterpart. Had not Nichar 
 beheld the first parents still dwelling in their ori- 
 ginal station, and with numbers of their descendents 
 still adhering humbly, but firmly to their faith and 
 attachment to heaven, he would have suspected that 
 
OF HEAVEN. 159 
 
 God had totally surrendered the world as a ruin to 
 the rebellious powers. Yet how melancholy a sight 
 was even the best which earth had to shew ! The 
 majesty of Adam, the peerless beauty of Eve, were 
 sorely dimmed and wasted by time. Grey locks, 
 stooping and trembling forms, announced that their 
 earthly vigour was well nigh exhausted. Around 
 them were scenes which must fill them with perpe- 
 tual sighing and sadness ; scenes of lawless evil, 
 which must continually remind them of the curse- 
 dispensing tree ; countless numbers of their child- 
 ren gone over for ever to the agents of evil ; and 
 before them their last and great enemy, — Death ! — 
 never lost sight of— every day drawing nearer — and 
 now standing grimly and triumphantly in their 
 path, brandishing his dismal arms, and filling them 
 with apprehension, perhaps even worse than his 
 stroke. This was sad, but it rested not here. The 
 evil spread through every dwelling, every bosom 
 of their most pious children. They toiled beneath 
 the sweltering curse, which clasped the earth, 
 breathed in the air, and smote them in the sun and 
 wind. They rolled in burning fevers, they sickened 
 and died, leaving even their parents to weep and 
 
160 THE EXILE 
 
 lament over their graves, and the hearts which 
 clung to them for comfort and support, to bleed 
 with the sudden and rude rending of their affec- 
 tions. Abroad, they were often compelled to stand 
 for their lives against the bloodthirsty sons of Cain, 
 and to be perpetually on the watch against sur- 
 prise, plunder, and death; and even on their do- 
 mestic hearths, spite of all their prayers and efforts 
 to suppress it, the evil leaven pervading and in- 
 flaming their passions, roused the cry of discord, 
 and made wounds in the very heart of love. 
 
 A joyless scene was this for Nichar to contem- 
 plate ; but it was a paradise to v/hat awaited him 
 in the cities of Cain. There evil had so perfectly 
 triumphed, that human nature was no longer dis- 
 tinguishable from that which corrupted it — men 
 from devils. Nichar gazed in astonishment at the 
 determined and ingenious perversion of every 
 understanding and faculty; every blessing woke, 
 instead of its appropriate feeling, one hateful and 
 revolting. He saw with wonder, how profusely 
 God showered his gifts of strength and beauty 
 upon the race, — such forms and countenances had 
 scarcely their superiors in heaven; but in their 
 
OF HEAVEN. 161 
 
 hearts, instead of thankfulness for these splendid 
 gifts, arose a haughty pride, and a desire to compass 
 by their means, objects most offensive to their 
 giver. The strength of the men, instead of a 
 means of good, was but an instrument of cruelty 
 and oppression ; and female beauty, given to soothe 
 and embellish social life, was a fatal and pernicious 
 snare — a fountain of pitiful vanity — a prize for 
 contention — an incentive to dark jealousies and 
 bloodshed. Every crime and outrage on which 
 the world, accustomed to thousands of years of evil, 
 now looks with complacency and sometimes with 
 applause, rose before the eyes of Nichar in its 
 naked deformity, hideous, horrible, and devilish. 
 The envious came by night, and bore away the 
 possessions of his neighbour ; the daring and law- 
 less fired the cottage of the sleeper, smote the 
 shrieking family as they rushed from the flames, 
 and plucked from the ashes the wealth which they 
 coveted. The forest path, which by day echoed 
 the songs of the happy bird, at night saw the 
 desperate arm launched from the gloomy hiding- 
 place, and the traveller fall weltering in his blood. 
 The vain-glorious collected about them the indo- 
 
162 THE EXILE 
 
 lent and greedy, and failing upon the neighbouring 
 lands or cities, slew the inhabitants, took possession 
 of their homes, and instead of curses, were hailed 
 with acclamations of praise. The wretch who had 
 scraped together wealth, which he had not a soul 
 to diffuse in happiness, piled it in secret vessels, 
 and received homage for it, as if the contents of 
 his pots had been virtues of the soul. The eye of 
 merciless desire wandered abroad upon everything 
 that was fair, and sought darkness, to perpetrate 
 its unhallowed purposes. Mirth wore but the 
 mask of joy; it was an effervescence of reck- 
 less licentiousness. The good things of Pro- 
 vidence, raised not their eyes to heaven in 
 gratitude, but turned them on the earth in callous 
 and swollen pride. The poor was not regarded 
 with sympathy, but contempt. All was evil : the 
 sun revealed it; the night fostered it; it grew 
 from day to day ; it spread from land to land. 
 The innocence of childhood speedily vanished in 
 the turbulence of distempered passion: manhood 
 hardened into malice, oppression and revenge ; and 
 terminated in blasphemy and despair. Such was 
 human life ! 
 
OF HEAVEN. 163 
 
 The weeping angel wandered far and wide, but 
 found only more terrible evidences of the full- 
 grown and universal curse. He entered, in the 
 guise of an old man, into city after city of the 
 progeny of Cain. They were everywhere alike, 
 full of beauty, prosperity and crime. The god of 
 this world appeared conspicuously their god, and 
 crowned them with his favours. The curse under 
 which the earth lay, seemed almost annihilated on 
 their behalf The children of Seth dwelt in lowly 
 huts of reed, or skin-covered tents, and tilled their 
 ground, and preserved their flocks with pain ; but 
 for these, their children sprung in overflowing 
 multitudes, grew into wonderful strength and 
 beauty, and spread themselves through fertile 
 lands and splendid cities — a rejoicing, affluent, and 
 festive generation. For them, the earth gave up 
 freely its riches ; for them, the clouds dropped 
 fatness. Nichar went on from city to city, — far 
 to the east they stretched in a brilliant chain. 
 Everywhere he beheld feasting, riot, and contempt 
 of every moral law. Everywhere he asked for 
 Cain, the father of the race, and was still pointed 
 to the east. 
 
164 THE EXILE 
 
 At length he came into a wide wilderness — a 
 wilderness of dry and burning plains. A few 
 scattered rocks shewed themselves here and there ; 
 a solitary palm-tree lifted up its head at distant 
 intervals; but all besides, was bare and torrid 
 sterility. The air glowed and glimmered over the 
 ocean of burning sands, like the atmosphere of a 
 furnace ; and nothing but a few stunted and 
 prickly shrubs dared the inclement heat. Afar 
 he beheld an object, which gradually assumed the 
 appearance of unfinished buildings : as he drew 
 near, he deemed it a city in progress— a city in 
 this fiery region ! When he came upon it, he 
 beheld a wide circuit, inclosed with uncompleted 
 walls of bricks shaped of a stupendous size, and 
 baked in the sun's raging blaze. A few skeleton 
 fabrics, a/ few scattered and unraised columns were 
 seen within the area, and amongst them stoo'd a 
 rude tent, with work-tools thrown about on the 
 ground ; and at some distance, he descried a group 
 of people busy at their labour. He drew near and 
 gazed in increasing wonder, at 'the scanty numbers, 
 so enormously disproportionate to the task before 
 them. It was a circumstance which appeared to 
 
OF HEAVEN. . 165 
 
 him as strange as the choice of site for the city 
 itself. Exposed in this sterile plain, to the burning 
 beams of the sun, unbroken by a single tree; 
 around, not smiling fields offering support and 
 refreshment to both body and mind, but ferocious 
 expanses, which threatened famine and exhaustion; 
 which did not give birth to one scanty spring. 
 
 As he pondered on these singular facts, he 
 beheld a man issue from the tent, and advance with 
 a solemn^ and, as it seemed to him, sad step towards 
 the builders. He paused near him, leaning on a 
 rugged and knotted staff, and gazed upon the 
 labourers in silence. They also in silence pursued 
 their toil. Nichar glanced at him for a moment — 
 it was the first-born of men, Cain the fratricide ! 
 He gazed on him with a strange and fearful feeling. 
 He ran with admiration over his tall and tower-like 
 form, — built as for eternal dominion, — sinewed as 
 for invincible strength and fleetness. He looked at 
 his countenance ; — but his eye recoiled, smitten as 
 with the blinding flash of the Almighty. God ! 
 what a stamp hadst thou affixed on that brow ! It 
 was as if the thunder of Omnipotent Vengeance 
 had launched itself full in the centre of that ample 
 
166 . THE EXILE 
 
 forehead, shielding the life from its power, but 
 leaving an everlasting and terrific scar. Sanguine 
 in hue, and seared to adamantine hardness, deep- 
 ploughed corrugations encircled it, meeting there 
 as a fearful centre of lines drawn from every 
 feature, and drawing thither the eye of the spec- 
 tator, fall where it would, as by an irresistible 
 spell. The first glimpse of that disastrous brow, 
 produced in the beholder a sense of terror that not 
 even an angel could escape ; but that once past, 
 it gave place to a feeling of commiseration, that 
 again drew the eye, and enabled it to endure the 
 baleful vision. Nichar again fixed his glance upon 
 this awful man, and read with a pitying heart the 
 traces of pain and cruel vengeance upon him. 
 Time had not bowed, nor weakened him; but tem- 
 pests from w^ithout and from within had grizzled 
 his short clustering locks and crisped beard, and 
 stamped on his countenance the hardness of invin- 
 cible endurance. His eye was large, and appa- 
 rently calm ; but there came from its depth some- 
 thing mingled with the expression of his other 
 features, which told that it was not the calmness of 
 repose of which it testified, but that of stern sup- 
 
OF HEAVEN. 167 
 
 pression of the heart's deathless bitterness. He 
 stood like a fortress which besiegers have battered, 
 and internal traitors have attempted to dismantle ; 
 and which, tliough it has stood through its own 
 resistant strength, has not stood scathless. 
 
 " First-born of men,'' said Nichar, advancing to 
 him with a grave salutation, " I would venture to 
 ask thee w^hat motive may have decided thy pre- 
 sent choice of situation ? I have traversed the 
 regions peopled by thy children, and have admired 
 the beauty of their cities, and the plenteous lands 
 in which they are raised ; what, then, leads thee 
 here?" 
 
 " Stranger," replied Cain, still gazing stedfastly 
 on his work-people, "thy query is not irrational. 
 But hast thou traversed those regions, and in- 
 quired not who cultured them ? Hast thou dwelt 
 in those cities, and asked not who raised them ? 
 They are my works ! Is this land barren ? — So 
 were they ! Is this city poor and rude ? — So were 
 those in which thou hast sojourned ! And wouldst 
 thou dwell with us awhile, thou shouldst see this 
 place become like those, in all things. The curse 
 is not past!" 
 
168 THE EXILE 
 
 " But why," said Nichar, " shouldst thou toil, 
 who art the father of mighty and affluent nations, 
 while they, thy children, live in ease and festivity ? 
 Methinks it were better to dwell amongst them, at 
 once the parent and the prince ; to behold their 
 prosperity, and receive their affectionate reve- 
 rence." 
 
 " I tell thee," replied Cain, " the curse is not 
 past ! and where there is abundance, there it is in 
 its strength. Hast thou not seen in those cities, 
 what thou fain wouldst not have seen ? Thou 
 hast ! I know it. I have seen the curse, creeping 
 like a pestilence amongst the riches which my 
 children have gathered — beneath the vines where 
 they revel, round the couches where they repose. 
 I have turned, and spurned it, and stamped upon 
 it, and fought with it as with a dragon ; but it was 
 too strong for me, and I have fled from its presence. 
 I tell thee, the barrenness and the fierce burning 
 which thou seest here, exhibit not the invincible 
 curse a thousandth part so hatefully, as do those 
 shining halls and flowery gardens. He has cursed 
 the ground, and so be it ! I seek not to enjoy his 
 gifts for nothing. I would have nought but what 
 
OF HEAVEN. 169 
 
 I wring from this cursed soil. I would have 
 nought but what I win with my weary and 
 laborious hands." 
 
 " Oh, great patriarch !" exclaimed Nichar fear- 
 fully, as he heard the bitterness of his words, and 
 saw the fierce light which flashed over his coun- 
 tenance, *' say not so ! God is good ! — say not so !" 
 
 " If thou have found him so, it is well ! " he 
 replied. " For myself, I have not. I speak what 
 I have learnt and know." 
 
 " Perhaps, thou hast offended." 
 
 ''Perhaps! — Thou know'st I have," returned 
 Cain vehemently. "All men know it : — it will 
 be known while there are men, — even now it is 
 a proverb. I know I have offended — and I have 
 wept tears of blood for it ! I have wept I say, and 
 bowed myself to the dust, and prayed, and cried to 
 heaven day and night ; and what have I won ? — 
 silence, everlasting silence — inexorable contempt !" 
 
 " Nay ! say not so ! — say not so, Cain !" Nichar 
 replied vrith sympathetic emphasis : " Let us not 
 judge too hastily of Him. Let us not expect, 
 since man has fallen, and wickedness abounds on 
 earth, that God should send, as of old, his angels 
 
 VOL, I. I. 
 
170 THE EXILE 
 
 to manifest his will ; or should call from the 
 darkness of his invisible sanctuary, to announce 
 to us what it is. Let us rather seek that mani- 
 festation in his goodness that surrounds us. And 
 has he not sent thee much good? Let this per- 
 suade thee of his forgiveness and acceptance. Has 
 he not given thee children numerous as the stars, 
 fair as the children of heaven, and planted them in 
 prosperous habitations ? Thou hast been the first 
 to destroy life ! It may be wise to mark the deed 
 with disapprobation, that it be not imitated. But 
 since that testimony of disapproval, hast thou not re- 
 ceived from his hand continual and manifold good ?" 
 " I have destroyed a life ! Ah ! a precious life ! 
 Precious to me, even in the memory of many 
 hundred years. I have destroyed a life ! — but I 
 have given origin to thousands. Can there be no 
 cancelling of the single evil ? Can there be no 
 compensation?" " Compensation !" said Nichar; 
 " dost thou talk of compensation ? Thou hast de- 
 stroyed a life, thou say est ; but hast given origin to 
 thousands. Dost thou forget that the one life de- 
 stroyed was di fountain of life as prolific as thy own ? 
 that thine is the gift of the same divine being of 
 
OF HEAVEN. 171 
 
 whom thou complainest Alas ! speak not of com- 
 pensation, but of forgiveness. That is what man 
 should ask of his Maker ; and that surely may be, 
 and is thine.*' <' Tell me not of forgiveness ! \I 
 see it not ! I feel it not ! Is it in these burning 
 plains? in these perpetual labours? Is it in this 
 bosom more arid and desolate than these deserts ? 
 in these haunting thoughts which will not rest ? in 
 a progeny that revel with impunity in crimes, one 
 of which was enough to brand me with this last 
 and worst curse — this burning scar of infamy and 
 despair. No ! if thy God be merciful — trust him ! 
 For me — I ask him for nothing — I can yet endure ! " 
 He turned, and re-entered his tent. Nichar, 
 wrapped in a cloud of devouring thoughts, de- 
 parted. He had attempted to pour comfort into 
 the miserable soul, but his words had recoiled upon 
 himself with terrible vehemence. If God forgive 
 not Cain, he inly exclaimed, what hope for him 
 through whom not only Cain sinned — but vice 
 and woe have rushed like a flood upon earth ! It 
 was bitter food for the cogitations of a wounded 
 spirit ; and as lie travelled through the wilderness, 
 it piled upon his heart a fresh burden of despair. 
 
172 THE EXILE 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 NiCHAR now directed his steps toward the hili- 
 country of the Azims. These were of the celestial 
 race ; the children of the spirits of heaven and the 
 daughters of earth. They were giants and men of 
 renown. The singular fame of such a race had 
 met him afar off, even amid the dwellings of Seth ; 
 and as he advanced across the territories of Cain, 
 it continually increased. They were daughters' 
 of the Cainite family, who had won these spirits 
 from their skies, and by such a triumph of beauty 
 had cast a splendour on their generation of which 
 they were in no small degree proud. The might, 
 the stature, the spirit, and enterprise of these 
 superhuman beings, were the theme of boast and 
 wonder wherever he came. Their land was now 
 before him. He advanced in his assumed form of 
 an old man, and entered their regions. They 
 were wild, but beautiful. Along the feet of the 
 hills stretched a delightfully rude wilderness of 
 
OF HEAVEN. 173 
 
 heaths, aromatic herbs, and odorous flowers of 
 innumerable varieties, where troops of antelopes, 
 goats, wild asses, and the shy ostrich, were occa- 
 sionally seen between thickets of dates, myrtles, 
 junipers, and fragrant balsam trees. Deep valleys 
 ran up amongst precipitous fidges, watered by 
 dashing streams, and here and there spreading 
 themselves out into sloping lawns of brilliant 
 verdure, shadowed by dark cypresses and pines, — 
 scenes of rich and retired beauty, which might 
 have inspired the hand of the painter or the heart 
 of the poet, had they then existed. As Nichar 
 ascended, broad tracts of mountain forest expanded 
 before him, — here dense and dark, there scattering 
 their mighty trees of oak and kingly cedar widely, 
 shewing beneath their ample range of boughs, 
 t mossy turf, where the hunter or the shepherd 
 might delight to lie, and send their gaze far around 
 through scenes of solitary beauty and stirring- 
 grandeur ; into nooks and retreats of silence and 
 shadow, where quiet water trickled, or lay in pro- 
 found repose; where the wild ferns and flowers 
 nodded from the rocks, and some nimble and 
 climbing animal amused itself with its own activity, 
 
174 THE EXILE 
 
 all unconscious of the solitude around : then again, 
 over some deep and rock-rent dell, where cataracts 
 were heard but not seen, except by the ascending- 
 spray, where swift-winged birds darted to and fro, 
 and the lordly eagle came soaring in solemn 
 majesty, and ever and anon filled the desert with 
 his clanging cry; where the palm and the acacia 
 lifted their graceful heads from their rocky stations, 
 as if to look down into the awful depths below; 
 or again, up green and sunny slopes, where rich 
 and velvet turf, sprinkled with bright and golden 
 blossoms that trembled to the breeze, tempted the 
 foot to approach it ; and finally, to the bare and 
 azure summits of the mountains themselves. 
 
 Such were the scenes which the poet or painter, 
 the hunter or shepherd might have found; such 
 were they which Nichar explored, as he ascended 
 to the dwellings of the Azim chieftains. It was a 
 land of unreclaimed and bold beauty. He saw no 
 traces of cultivation, but in many a lovely valley 
 scattered herds, and on the hills flocks of goats, 
 and sheep as wild and active as the goats them- 
 selves. He beheld youths and damsels watching 
 their flocks, and making the rocks echo to their 
 
OF HEAVEN. 175 
 
 simple pipes. He passed, in sheltered hollows on 
 the mountain sides, little clusters of rustic abodes. 
 He met troops of children roaming through the 
 upland fields, and hunters in ardent pursuit of their 
 game. It was a land full of pastoral and mountain 
 beauty ; every creature that he met, seemed, full 
 of youth, and the strength and gladness of life.- 
 As he passed the lowest door, forth came to greet 
 the stranger, dames of rich, but staid and matronly 
 comeliness; and behind them glanced the bright 
 inquisitive eyes of nymphs, whose exquisite forms 
 and blooming, sunny countenances, have been 
 fabled only of Arcadia or the age of gold : and 
 Nichar inly persuaded himself, that innocence and 
 happiness had lingered here ; that the angelic 
 parents of the race, had impressed upon their pro- 
 geny as much of their felicitous taste, as of their 
 beauty of form and feature. When he stood upon 
 the summit of the mountains, most glorious and 
 animating were the prospects spread around and 
 beneath on every side. Everywhere the mountains 
 were clothed with the same beautiful features, 
 cloven by the same charming valleys, whicli 
 stretched away into the wilderness of plains, bright 
 
176 THE EXILE 
 
 with gleaming rivers, clotted with palm-groves, 
 crimsoned with ocean-like expanses of billowy 
 roses, lilies, and amaranth ; and terminated only by 
 the failing powers of vision. 
 
 Along the airy heights of the hills, were built at 
 considerable distances, twenty strong towers, each of 
 princely extent, of massy architecture, of impreg- 
 nable strength of fabric and position. Nichar 
 entered them successively, and claimed the hospi- 
 tality due from the happy possessor of a stationary 
 home to the wanderer. In all, it was accorded 
 with a free and cordial grace. He beheld halls 
 and courts of great extent ; but distinguished only 
 for their massive simplicity. They were evidently 
 the abodes of mighty hunters, of powerful chiefs : 
 but chiefs unacquainted with, or despising the 
 splendid luxuries of the rest of the race of Cain. 
 A solitary stateliness reigned around their moun- 
 tain ramparts, and in their ample courts, open to 
 the silent heavens. The monarchs dwelt in unos- 
 tentatious simplicity ; they pursued the chase with 
 ardour; they returned and feasted with zest on the 
 produce of their toils. Few servants were seen 
 passing to and fro in their halls, or attending on 
 
OF HEAVEN. 177 
 
 their tables. They dwelt in a lordly solitude, and 
 the harp poured around them the music of their 
 heroic spirits. Nichar dwelt for a long period with 
 these noble beings. His agitated heart found 
 something like repose, in the contemplation of 
 their high and simple lives ; in their great and 
 soaring aspirations. A thirst of glory and do- 
 minion burned vehemently in their souls ; but they 
 shrunk from the oppression and slaughter of men. 
 They panted to extend their power over multitudes 
 and realms; but they fain would achieve their 
 views by righteous means, and they looked and 
 waited for these in vain. In the meantime, a fair 
 and happy race spread through the hills and 
 valleys of their beautiful regions — the animating 
 spirit of the chase, the kingly voice of music, and 
 the charms of love filled their days. Nichar con- 
 templated their noble forms wath perpetual delight. 
 Their stature was gigantic, but of the finest propor- 
 tions. The grace and agility of youth ; lineaments 
 of divine mould, beaming with lofty sentiments, 
 with candour and benevolence, gave them and 
 their wives a glory and godlike beauty, such as 
 none other on earth possessed. Their angelic 
 i3 
 
178 THE EXILE 
 
 parents had impressed them with the highest and 
 purest notions of the divine nature, and warned 
 them to avoid the licentious idolatry, but too 
 prevalent in the race of Cain. From time to time 
 they appeared amongst them, to strengthen their 
 spirits, and to guard them from some pressing evil 
 or temptation. Nichar communed with them on 
 the creation and destinies of man : he went back 
 with them into regions of earlier and higher 
 histories. The creation of angels in far-oiF ages ; 
 the happy realms, occupations, and blissful lives of 
 spiritual natures ; the dark temptations ; the secret 
 and widely-creeping seditions ; the dreadful burst- 
 ing forth of rebellion ; the wars, the horrors, the 
 sweeping destruction, which almost emptied the 
 glorious land of its inhabitants ; the realms of 
 infinite torture ; the unlocking of the penal gates ; 
 the escape of the blasted and malignant hosts to 
 earth ; their haughty and arrogant seizure of it ; 
 their audacious abode in the face of heaven itself, 
 and all their arts and designs upon men ; the 
 crimes and miseries they spread wide amongst 
 them, — were frequent themes of the Azims and 
 the concealed angel. He heard more than once 
 
OF HEAVEN. 179 
 
 his own history detailed; his crime and its con- 
 sequences ; the origin, the triumphant beauty, the 
 splendid and idolized existence of Lilith, were 
 related, not with the half-unconscious malice and 
 innumerable variations of human narratives, but with 
 the transparent and undeviating truth of celestial 
 knowledge. The pain which these relations sent 
 into his soul, was acute as the stroke of an arch- 
 angel's sword of judgment; but he bowed himself 
 in silence, and bore it ; for with these noble intelli- 
 gences, he enjoyed what the whole universe beside 
 denied him, social and rational communion. He 
 accompanied them in the chase ; and, far in the 
 solitudes of the mountains and the wilderness, 
 themes of this nature filled the pauses of their pur- 
 suit, and tinged the caves of the desert with their 
 enthusiastic hues. He sate with them at their 
 table on their return, or walked with them in their 
 open courts at night, when all the stars of heaven 
 burned above them; and their minds were drawn, 
 by a kindling spell, towards those open but unex- 
 plored and inaccessible regions, where their fathers 
 dwelt. Their beautiful wives, who partook of their 
 own celestial natures, would on such occasions cast 
 
180 THE EXILE 
 
 their ardent eyes upon the glittering, starry ex- 
 panse, and dream and speculate, with the fond 
 affection of the female bosom, on all the charms of 
 the spirit-realm — on all the aflfectionate happiness 
 of its fair inhabitants; and Nichar, filled with a 
 languishing and inextinguishable regret, would 
 give, by his words, such a colouring to their de- 
 sires and imaginations, as diffused through them 
 inexpressible sensations of astonishment and de- 
 light. Unsuspicious of his real nature, they 
 regarded him as the highest and wisest of men ; 
 as one who had communed long and often with 
 the celestial natures, — who was intrusted with the 
 knowledge of mysteries, which even their fathers 
 liad not dared to open to their yet inexperienced 
 youth. They looked on him with love and wonder. 
 His words were full of a sad but irresistible elo- 
 quence, which disturbed them with its sound, but 
 yet more by its cessation. They listened to his 
 solemn language, delivered in a gentle but pene- 
 trating tone, with a quiet and apparently composed 
 manner; yet with a power, which roused them 
 like the sound of a trumpet, and poured through 
 their hearts the most restless and ineffable desires. 
 
OF HEAVEN. J 81 
 
 He saw the lofty and aspiring entliiisiasm of their 
 natures; he saw in them the elements of a vast 
 but magnanimous ambition, working with daily- 
 increasing force, and wanting but a little time and 
 some mighty object, to burst forth in deeds which 
 should startle the world ; ajad he founded upon it a 
 hope most precious to his soul. 
 
 Wherever he had gone through the cities of 
 Cain, he heard the fame of Ukinim. The splen- 
 dours and enchantments which the demons had 
 there raised to intoxicate mankind, had taken full 
 effect. From all regions they flocked with avidity 
 to behold the grandeur^ to partake of the luxurious 
 delights, of that famous city. Every where the 
 name of Lilith resounded. Her beauty and fasci- 
 nations were the theme of perpetual converse, 
 of passionate admiration, of profound idolatry. 
 Temples were raised to her honour in every city, 
 groves and gardens planted ; her image, wrought in 
 Ukinim itself and purchased at infinite cost, was 
 erected in each splendid shrine; rites were insti- 
 tuted; hymns of adoration composed; and the 
 fairest creatures dedicated themselves to her ser- 
 vice. With her worship spread that of all the 
 
182 THE EXILE 
 
 evil powers ; their molten or graven images were 
 seen in a thousand temples — towering in awful and 
 soul-subduing majesty — they shone in miniature 
 shapes in the secret recesses of palaces and halls, 
 and were borne in the bosom, wrapped in the 
 mantle-folds of innumerable votaries. The tide of 
 demon-worship had rolled over the world, bearing 
 with it every species of crime and vileness, and had 
 assailed these delightful hills of the Azims them- 
 selves. Hitherto they had repelled the pestilential 
 contagion, as their cliffs repelled the rolling vapours 
 which arose from the rivers of the plain and undu- 
 lated around their bases. But even this happy 
 land, guarded by the vigilant eyes of its chiefs, 
 strengthened by its own internal felicity, and the 
 repeated appearance of the celestial parents with 
 awful warnings and zealous denunciations of the 
 spreading impiety, was beginning to fail. The 
 minds of many of the youth began to be dazzled 
 by the rumours of splendour and joy which perpe- 
 tually came from Ukinim. Some had gone recently 
 forth, but came not back; and others, weak and 
 wavering, hence inferred that they had found a life 
 too enchanting to be again abandoned. The Azim 
 
OF HEAVEN. 183 
 
 princes saw with giief and indignation the spread- 
 ing mischief. Day and night the imminent peril 
 of their happy people haunted them. They watched, 
 warned, and expostulated; but saw, with increasing- 
 anger, the faces of those amongst their hearers who 
 heard in silence, but with eyes in which lived 
 neither conviction nor content. Day after day 
 brouo^ht the news of some fresh and sorrowful d'e- 
 fection. Now some troop of youths suddenly arose, 
 and calling on their companions to join them, 
 marched forth amid the vain cries and prayers, and 
 clinging arms of parents, friends-, and betrothed 
 maidens. Now secretly stole away some staid or 
 distinguished man, on whom a thousand hopes and 
 duties had rested, perhaps from the very presence 
 and confidence of the chiefs themselves. The evil 
 was become urgent and alarming ; and there wanted 
 but a word to rouse all the valour of the land into 
 open warfare on the apostate race. That word 
 hovered on the lips of Nichar. The cause was his. 
 It involved the whole strength and deathless desires 
 of his being : the sole hope — if hope it might be 
 said to be — which could give that being a motive. 
 To rush down, followed by a powerful and zeal- 
 
184 tHE EXILE 
 
 inspired nation, upon the accursed city — to extin- 
 guish the accursed life — the object of all his toils 
 and cogitations through ages — to break up the 
 strongholds of the demon-powers— to disperse and 
 chase them from the earth^— to throw down their 
 images — to annihilate their temples and their 
 worship — to break the insolence of their devotees 
 — to put them to shame and confusion, for their 
 foolish and grovelling idolatry — to restore the 
 homage of the Most High, and to diffuse it 
 through the earth with all its purity and light, 
 and its unnumbered and everlasting blessings. — 
 Oh ! the thought was too much, for even the 
 equanimity of an angel ! 
 
 Nichar and the Azim chiefs sate one day in 
 the mountain cave of the valley of Heph, by 
 the mountain lake Zodarn. It was in the most 
 naked and desolate tract of the hill-country of 
 the Azims. It had neither tree, nor human abode. 
 It bordered on the northern desert, and was itself 
 a place unblest with a single trace of vegetation. 
 Bare, red, rocky mountains enclosed a narrow vale 
 of sand. The lake was a sheet of dark water, 
 surrounded by high cliffs of sullen red, which 
 
OF HEAVEN. 185 
 
 rose perpendicularly by the flood in an irregular 
 and yet ungraceful wall, and terminating in heavy, 
 broken and melancholy summits, seldom allowed 
 the winds to visit the locked-up waters. The 
 hunters had retired thither at noon, not from 
 choice, but necessity. The heat of the day was 
 unendurable ; and they recollected the small spring 
 which welled up in this desert cave. They had 
 drunk of it, and lay down to repose ; but repose 
 was not there. The atmosphere was still and 
 stifling ; the sun glared fiercely upon the red crags ; 
 upon the lake, which lay like a sheet of hot and 
 molten metal ; furnace-like glimmerings flung from 
 the burning, adamantine precipices around, pre- 
 sented the only visible motion — everything else 
 was silent and still as death. They lay on the 
 floor of the cave, which burned beneath them ; 
 thick perspiration covered them ; and an oppressive 
 languor, and a sense like despair, weighed upon 
 their hearts. TKey felt as though they fain would 
 rise, but had no power of frame or of will to enable 
 them. 
 
 Yet at that crisis, in stalked Teleg, one of their 
 number, who had been left at a league's distance. 
 
186 THE EXILE 
 
 He strode into tlie cave with a fierce and hasty 
 step ; a stern wildness was in his face, and blood 
 was on his garments and his hand. In a moment 
 the spell which seemed to bind them, was broken. 
 They sprung up, and gazing eagerly at him, cried 
 " What ails thee, Teleg ? what hast thou done ?" 
 
 "The curse is in the mountains," said Teleg; 
 "The day is come! We must strike! We can 
 pause no longer ! — we have given it but too much 
 peace already ! — we have helped to cherish the 
 pestilence by our supineness !" The Azims gazed 
 on him in wonder, and would have spoken; but 
 he waved his hand with impatience, and said, " Ye 
 shall hear ! I called to mind the little mountain 
 hollow and fountain of Akeila; and turned aside 
 thither. Its ever bubbling and translucent basin of 
 water; its broad -spreading sycamores; its cluster 
 of palm-thatched huts, came deliciously to my 
 thoughts, and I pressed forward to share the sweet 
 repose of its inhabitants. As I came to the opening 
 of the rocks which shewed it before me, and felt 
 the living breeze which for ever plays there, I 
 heard the sound as of a rural festival. I drew 
 near, and beheld a hideous sight. Beneath the 
 
OF HEAVEN. 187 
 
 sycamore of the fountain, stood an image of marble 
 — a small image of a woman ! Truly it was fair 
 as an angel ! — but it was the image of a woman ! — 
 and around it kneeled, a circle of grovelling wor- 
 shippers ! I rushed forward, and seizing the 
 worshipped form, dashed it against the tree. Its 
 head flew against the rock, and dispersed in atoms. 
 The throng stood pale and dismayed. But a 
 fiendish yell arose near me ; and Mogunn, once 
 my chief herdsman — now dark and sallow, and with 
 a countenance devilish with disturbing passions, 
 darted towards me with fixed and grinding teeth, 
 and smote at me with his dagger. With the 
 fragment of his goddess yet in my hand, I beat 
 him with a blow to the earth. The rest fled, 
 shrieking to their huts." 
 
 The Azims gazed for a space on each other, 
 in awful amaze ; Nicliar stood and trembled. 
 Anguish and remorse again seized him; but 
 speedily indignation kindled upon his heart; and 
 turning to his friends, he exclaimed, " Yes ! — the 
 time is come! — the demons have too long been 
 permitted to spread their power, — to destroy 
 human peace. Chieftains, will you wait till 
 
188 ■ THE EXILE 
 
 idolatry and all mortal evils, its inseparable com- 
 panions, overrun your land, and curse your people 
 with all the curses of hell? You are formed for 
 mighty deeds; and a mighty field is before you! 
 That great Ukinim — the marvel and the misery 
 of the earth, lies contiguous to your borders. 
 There is a glorious seat of empire to be won ! — 
 a vast people to be subdued ! — and God's fair 
 creation to be rescued from the malignant hosts ! — 
 You must conquer, and be glorious ! or tremble, 
 and perish in the everlasting perdition of infamy!" 
 
 As he spoke, they pressed around — they gazed 
 vehemently upon him — they reared their gigantic 
 right-arms, each grasping aloft his ponderous 
 hunting-spear; and as he ceased, with a simul- 
 taneous shout, vowed themselves to the extermi- 
 nation of the vile shrines. 
 
 In the whirlwind "impetuosity of their zeal, 
 they rushed homeward. In the fortress of Teleg 
 the day fled by unnoticed, in impassioned discus- 
 sions of their projects. They dispatched mes- 
 sengers to assemble thither their wives, who came 
 full of fearful anxiety at the tidings; but after a 
 few tears of female weakness, rose rapidly into 
 
OF HEAVEN. ] 89 
 
 the glowing spirit of their consorts, and added 
 flame to their zeal. 
 
 They resolved to consult their celestial sires on 
 their enterprise. This was a measure of terrible 
 anxiety to Nichar. It was in fact to discover 
 to those angels, and to the Azims, his real nature ; 
 and then, what fearful questions arose from that 
 unveiling ! Would those heavenly spirits asso- 
 ciate themselves with him in any undertaking ? 
 Would his presence mar and dissipate the glorious 
 design ? Would it be pursued and accomplished 
 without him ? There was an immensity of anguish 
 in these contemplations ; but it must be endured. 
 And he had endured despair and despairing re- 
 morse for ages. He had suffered all the pangs 
 which the contempt and the rejection of the 
 virtuous could inflict; and if even through these 
 fiery means, Lilith should be destroyed, and 
 human happiness triumph, it was worth the en- 
 durance. He shrouded his agony in his bosom, 
 and awaited the trial. 
 
 Night descended. The Azims with their wives, 
 glowing with the anticipation of mighty good 
 achieved, of immortal renown won, ascended the 
 
190 THE EXILE 
 
 tower of Teleg. A golden cresset and a gigantic 
 harp, were placed in the centre of the marble- 
 paved roof. They stood round in a wide circle — 
 such a circle of noble and beautiful forms, as earth 
 has never since beheld. Phanul, the eldest of 
 the tribe, distinguished for the mild dignity and 
 generosity of his character, advanced to the cresset 
 — Taleela, his queenly bride, to the harp. There 
 was a pause of awful solemnity. Above them, 
 the great arch of heaven displayed in its deep 
 azure, its glittering, silent hosts ; around them, 
 all was obscurity; and the night-breeze which 
 sighed amongst the low, massy pillars of the 
 parapet, seem to wander up from depths of in- 
 fathomable gloom. All eyes were fixed upon 
 Phanul. He flung into the cresset a fragrant 
 powder from a golden box, the workmanship of 
 Tubalcain, and immediately a bright flame burst 
 forth: — a stream of blue and starry meteors rose 
 into the heavens, and the most delectable odours 
 floated around them. At the same moment, 
 Taleela struck the towering harp with slow and 
 solemn strokes, and gave life to a music, which 
 fixed the soul in breathless wonder at its deep 
 and mystery-breathing power. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 191 
 
 At once appeared, as it were, a new constella- 
 tion kindled in the heavens, — a cluster of stars 
 more resplendent than all others of the nightly 
 hosts; and every moment they became more and 
 niore brilliant. A mortal might have seen them, 
 and wondered at the magnificent phenomenon; 
 but Nichar knew its real nature ; ^e Azims knew 
 it, and stood with their faces "fixed with immove- 
 able earnestness upon the glowing effulgence. In 
 a moment they became distinct — a troop of career- 
 ing angels, — in a moment they were at hand. 
 They alit with a rush of mighty pinions, and in 
 an atmosphere of their own brightness which made 
 night roll back from the tower on whose top 
 they stood, — a vision of glory and beauty incon- 
 ceivable to our pale and far-off fancies. They 
 were in number, nearly equal to the Azims them- 
 selves, — winged forms of heaven's own unap- 
 proachable grace and sublimity. Their plumed 
 pinions were as of the sunshine itself, and quivered 
 with a pearly radiance that varied at every motion. 
 Their countenances — Oh ! how unlike the earthly 
 visage of man — dimmed and ploughed with fierce 
 passions, darkened with crimes, and saddened with 
 
192 THE EXILE 
 
 care, warped and debased by pain, by cunning 
 and the fleshly dominance ! In the pure blossom 
 of immortal youth and beauty, no scar, no scath 
 of time,^ — no ruinous trace of the internal canker 
 were there ! Thought, which stamps on our brows 
 shadow and deformity, shed on them the spirit 
 of rejoicing; and the serene azure of their large, 
 love-inspiring eyes, threw forth streaming rays 
 of the felicity which filled all their being with an 
 inexhaustible fulness. But alas for Nichar ! it was 
 a cruel moment for him. He beheld before him, 
 creatures of his ancient love — souls to which his 
 soul had clung through ages of immeasurable joy ! 
 The tones of heaven were again in his ears — the 
 atmosphere of heaven around him, and he lost! — 
 flillen ! perhaps in the moment of recognition, 
 doomed to feel another cruel evidence of his 
 perdition. His anguish tempted him to plunge 
 from the battlement where he stood, and to avoid 
 the rencontre, but motives stronger than pain with- 
 held him. He saw the sons of heaven clasp their 
 children in their embraces,— he heard the blissful 
 murmur of voices mutually exchanging words of 
 love and congratulation ; and he shrunk deeper 
 
OF HEAVEN. 193 
 
 into the gioom of his own stripped and solitary 
 being. 
 
 " But wherefore," said a majestic spirit, "where- 
 fore have you called us hither? It is not alone 
 that we may meet and rejoice in our love, that 
 ye have raised the invoking sign ; some cause of 
 high import moved you to this act." 
 
 " We would break the pernicious spell of 
 Ukinim," replied PhanuL " We would assert 
 God*s right upon earth, against the hosts of hell 
 and of idolatry ; and we seek your approval and 
 support." 
 
 The angei-troop were silent. Sadness sate even 
 on celestial brows. For awhile they communed 
 with each other in rapid glances ; and then the 
 same great spirit replied : " My children, your 
 attempt is high and noble, — worthy, oh ! well 
 worthy of your celestial birth, — but it is vast and 
 fearful, and incalculable in its consequences. 
 Know ye not that it is no other than to attack all 
 the powers of hell? Those powers which dared 
 to invade the very kingdom of the Highest, and 
 have now spread their dominion over this lower 
 world ! It is a terrible enterprise ; and we know 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 THE EXILE 
 
 not its end. The Omniscient has not opened, on 
 these heads, to us his awful will. With that will 
 you may safely assault all the hosts of evil — 
 against it, defeat and destruction await you. 
 Alas! shall it be our lot to behold these fair and 
 happy seats laid waste by your enemies; your 
 people slaughtered, enslaved, or corrupted, and 
 your own noble forms smitten to the dust ? God 
 grant you a far different fate ! Yet, far be it from 
 us to counsel you to an ignoble life. Dare nobly 
 for God and for man, — if it accord not with God's 
 design to crown your attempts in his cause with 
 success, there is another world where his smile 
 will await you ; and so far as is permitted us, our 
 warning and approving voice — our helping and 
 defending hand, shall be with you I*' 
 
 " Then success is ours !" exclaimed the Azims. 
 " Courage and sanguine hope are ours — we want 
 neither strength nor numbers; and this venerable 
 sage — " 
 
 At once all eyes were turned upon Nichar. At 
 once every celestial spirit in wonder, cried 
 " Nichar !" — and Nichar, startled from his disguise, 
 stood before them in his own form. It was a scene 
 
OF HEAVEN. 195 
 
 of multiplied astonishment. The spirits marvelled 
 to behold Nichar thus in their presence, and the 
 Azims to discover in their guest that most unhappy- 
 soul. It was an agonizing moment. The angels 
 gazed upon each other with questioning looks; — 
 " Can we make common cause with this woful 
 spirit?" said one. " Shall we forbid him to make 
 cause with us?" said another. "Shall we crush 
 the sorrowful? Shall we banish still farther the 
 exile ?" asked a third : and another replied, 
 " Heaven is denied to him ; but the earth is 
 open; and shall he not, if so he willeth, serve 
 God in it? Shall we bruise the broken reed? 
 Shall we push the penitent heart from the foot- 
 stool of the Eternal Mercy ? Shall we, who have 
 made alliance with earth, which God designed not, 
 and yet have escaped condemnation, shall we 
 judge him, who is already judged with a fearful 
 severity? — No, we are not so commanded;— surely 
 it will not be thus required ! " " Nichar," they 
 exclaimed, " our hearts have followed thee in thy 
 unhappiness — we will not quench thy righteous 
 desires. Indulge them, pursue them, and stand 
 up zealously with these for God ! But our time 
 
196 THE EXILE 
 
 is expired. — Prepare your forces. Draw cautiously 
 towards the accursed city; and if God forbid not, 
 we shall speedily hasten to your aid. Till then 
 beware ! — forget not for a moment that you have 
 to deal with the subtlest of spirits ! " 
 
 The glorious troop sprung forth like living 
 lightnings towards heaven. The Azims turned 
 and beheld Nichar, again shrouded in the form 
 of age, kneeling on the floor, on which his tears 
 fell like rain. He had heard words of kindly 
 S3^mpathy — precious words ! — unheard through 
 desolate ages — and his soul melted within him. 
 rhey embraced him with affectionate joy— and 
 they descended to their common enterprise. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 197 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 From mouth to mouth, through all the hills and 
 vales of those fair regions, ran secret but startling 
 words. No alarm-fires blazed upon the steeps ; no 
 trumpet's voice was heard ; but a spirit had passed 
 through the land, and become its one moving 
 spirit. Every man left his threshold — every man 
 directed his course through the defiles of the moun- 
 tains, through the covert paths of the forests ; not 
 in bands nor in martial array, but in their hunter 
 garbs, with their hunter weapons in their hands ; 
 and pursuing, as with individual aim, the beasts of 
 the chase. Yet whatever seemed their object, — 
 however various and oblique their courses might 
 appear, — by evening the whole body of the people 
 had advanced far in one direction ; and that 
 direction was towards ITkinim. On the second 
 eve, thousands of the Azims were secretly congre- 
 gated in the very hills that surrounded that famous 
 city; and if a judgment could be drawn from 
 k2 
 
198 THE EXILE 
 
 appearances, without their presence being sus- 
 pected. Nichar sate upon the same eminence that 
 he had occupied ages ago, and beheld the city 
 lie below him in all its princely dnd paradisiacal 
 beauty. Thousands and tens of thousands of 
 dwellings had arisen in it since then. Myriads of 
 lives swarmed within it ; and the hum of peace, of 
 secure rejoicing, came up to his seat. He beheld, 
 too, the infernal spirits passing to and fro across 
 the mountains, and marvelled that they appeared 
 all unconscious of the ambushed enemies. He 
 trusted God had smitten them with blindness 
 preparatory to their confusion. Anxiously he 
 awaited the coming of the heavenly spirits. Night 
 came down. He descended into the camp, if camp 
 that may be called, in which was neither tent nor 
 enclosure, except such as thick-spreading trees, 
 caverns, and towering crags presented. There he 
 found the whole host of the Azim people, who had 
 lain down in the ravines and woody sides of the 
 mountains during the day, were equally impatient 
 with himself, for the command of their leaders to 
 cross the naked summits of the hills, and descend 
 upon the town. The army occupied the whole 
 
OF HEAVEN. 199 
 
 circle of hills which we have before described as 
 surrounding Ukinim; and the different chiefs 
 were at considerable distances from each other, 
 each in the midst of his own tribe, ready at the 
 word of the expected angel, to lead his people to 
 the gate immediately below him. They presented 
 the singular anomaly of an army with many leaders, 
 but without a commander-in-chief. They confi- 
 dently looked for the speedy presence of those 
 who were, to them, more than the ablest general 
 which earth could produce. 
 
 Nichar found posted nearest to him the youngest 
 of the chiefs, — the glad-hearted Mochal. The 
 youthful beauty of his large, yet not fully matured 
 person, and his overflowing good-humour and 
 pleasant wit, had been Mochal's chief distinguish- 
 ing qualities. They had given him a brother^s 
 place in every heart that approached him. It 
 seemed as if the superior being, from whom he 
 derived so beautiful and buoyant a Form, had also 
 endowed him with a heart of perpetual gladness. 
 He seemed to breathe an atmosphere of delight, 
 and to pour out, with his breath, upon everything 
 around him, pleasure, mirth, and love. At the 
 
200 THE EXILE 
 
 festal table, Mochal's radiant face and happy voice, 
 kindled tlie countenances and the words of all 
 others; and in the chase, that voice was heard 
 where, far a-head, he dashed in reckless extrava- 
 gance of physical power and spirits, sending its 
 jubilant echoes through the wilderness. In the 
 hours of social ease and retirement, there was 
 Mochal as full of gambol as a child. All eyes 
 sparkled at his approach ; in every mouth, he was 
 the happy Mochal, — the dear, good Mochal ! a 
 being that dreamed not of power, or dignity, or 
 evil. He found life a joyous gift in his boyhood ; 
 and he was a boy still. Time had hitherto wrought 
 no change in him; and who could tell how it 
 would hereafter influence him. Nichar loved him. 
 The frank gladness of his spirit, communicated its 
 sunny contagion even to his darkened soul; and 
 Mochal seemed to love and lean upon Nichar, as 
 youth is apt to do upon aged wisdom that is clothed 
 with kindness. Nichar now found him gay and 
 careless of the future, as in his own native haunts. 
 He was impatient, indeed, of the restraint of am- 
 bush; impatient of delay; impatient to rush down 
 to the stir and conquest of Ukinim. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 201 
 
 And beliold ! there came the expected paternal 
 spirit, — not shining in his glory as on the former 
 eve, but shrouded in a dim form, and full of 
 anxious haste. "The spirits are descended," he 
 said ; " each has sought his kindred chief, — each at 
 this moment commences his march to the city, at 
 the head of his host. Let us begone ! Let us 
 speed in cautious silence. Already the gates are 
 loosed — the watchers laid to sleep. The moment 
 we enter the city, the spirits will dart forward to 
 the abode of Lilith. We must come upon her 
 suddenly, or our quest is in vain ! If she escape us, 
 all is lost! — our enterprise is vain. Destroy her, 
 and the spell is broken !— the tie which binds the 
 demons to this spot, is severed ! They may still 
 linger upon earth ; but their central attraction is 
 gone ! Let her escape ! and vainly do you seek 
 to hold Ukinim; — all hell will rise, and overwhelm 
 you ! Let us go ! " 
 
 At once the signal was given by Mochal — it 
 flew from man to man. At once a mighty host 
 sprang up from cave, ravine, and thicket, and with 
 swift, but silent steps, hastened over the hill- tops, 
 and descended the hollow way towards the city. 
 k3 
 
202 THE EXILE 
 
 At the same midnight hour, descended tens of 
 thousands, each headed by its own gigantic chief, 
 and by a mighty angeh Darkness and clouds 
 favoured them. The city lay in profound gloom 
 and silence. No light was visible — no sound — not 
 even the solitary foot-fall of the watchman told of 
 the presence of life. The hosts approached the 
 walls: the angels pushed open the mighty gates 
 before them. On twenty sides, at the same in- 
 stant, the hosts entered the city. The spirits bade 
 them haste onward, and were gone. The Azims 
 beheld around them in the obscurity of night, the 
 shadowy bulk of vast palaces. They passed by 
 colossal statues — by fountains, dashing their waters 
 sonorously on the night air — by groves and gar- 
 dens, which breathed forth delicious fragrance ; 
 but all was gloomy and indistinct, and not a living 
 being was abroad. So deep was the silence, that 
 the hosts heard the regular tread of the counter- 
 hosts across the city ; they heard the river roaring 
 over some distant cataract, alternately louder and 
 fainter, with the variation of the breeze. The 
 myriad inhabitants slumbered beneath the heavy 
 spell of the invading angels, and even the watchers 
 
OF HEAVEN. 203 
 
 lay stretched in sleep by the way-sides. Anxiously 
 the hosts looked before them, expecting every 
 moment some sign of contest — some sound of 
 assault or victory ; but little did they anticipate the 
 scene that awaited them. The huge mount and 
 palace of Lilith was before them; already they 
 descried its monstrous gloom, when at once, a cry, 
 such as might startle the globe on the night of 
 judgment, rung forth ; and a sudden, dazzling, 
 blasting flame burst from the palace. The whole 
 stupendous fabric was in an instantaneous glow of 
 fire, that rushed through every apartment, wrapped 
 it from end to end, from foundation to roof, in a 
 clear, liquid, raging splendour, and roared up in 
 terrible volumes to the sky. Higher and wider it 
 spread ! rushing and rolling in a fierce and vora- 
 cious mass, that seemed not to be merely fed by 
 the burning bulk of the palace and temple, but to 
 gush up with inextinguishable vehemence from the 
 central fountain of flame. Aloft it stood, — a vast 
 trunk of angrily mingling red, yellow, blue, and 
 the whiteness of the intensest furnace ; throwing 
 out immense volumes of sulphurous and fire- 
 streaked smoke, that formed a terrible canopy to 
 
204 THE EXILE 
 
 tlie city, which glared on all sides like a wide con- 
 gregation of spectral towers, and shewed thousands 
 and tens of thousands of closely-pressed faces, up- 
 turned in ghastly pallor and silence. But aloft ! 
 aloft ! — what a spectacle ! There, in the midst of 
 that up-rushing torrent of fire, was seen a host of 
 spirits in fierce contention. They rose — they 
 soared up into the loftiest waves of turbulent flame, 
 furiously smiting at each other, as if unconscious of 
 the devouring element. But it was speedily seen 
 that the greater number of the combatants were 
 infernal natures, who assaulted the few brighter 
 beings with bitterest malice. It looked a far un- 
 equal contest. The heavenly spirits were at once 
 surrounded by vast numbers, and seemed to be 
 sorely oppressed by the terrible element, in which 
 their dark opponents moved their forms, and ex- 
 panded their huge wings, as totally untroubled by 
 its hot embrace. But fierce and desperately each 
 battling spirit struck. Their swords flashed, even 
 amid the bright flood of fire, like lightnings ; their 
 waving and writhing forms were seen amid alter- 
 nate smoke and light, — now linked convulsively 
 together, now furiously grappling, and striving to 
 
OF HEAVEN. 205 
 
 hurl each other downwards through the flame. 
 Dreadful yells announced, ever and anon, the 
 triumph or the torment of the malignant natures : 
 the fair spirits, if they suffered, suffered in silence. 
 Fearful and full of wonder, was the scene to those 
 below ; more fierce and dreadful it became every 
 moment ; while the burning palace, which now 
 glowed like one clear, molten mass of the intensest 
 heat, exploded, with thunderous sounds, red-hot 
 stones into the air. Fragments of glowing columns 
 were projected, hissing far and wide; and showers 
 of molten gold, from liquescent roofs, scattered 
 their fearful drops upon the gazing multitude, and 
 raised shrieks of sudden agony. Aloft, unconscious 
 of all around, fought the furious spirits. Their 
 anger seemed to invest them with momentarily 
 augmenting energy ; their forms appeared to glow 
 brighter than the element in which they contended, 
 and to expand into a terrific vastness. But anon, 
 it became apparent that the infernal natures 
 quailed. Every stroke of their enemies' weapons 
 was answered by groans and yells. Their forms, 
 although accustomed to the power of fire, had lost 
 the heavenly vigour which resisted and extin- 
 
206 THE EXILE 
 
 guished pain ; while their foes, though smitten 
 through and through, fortified by the celestial 
 strength of felicity within, appeared unconscious of 
 enduring harm. Fearful and more fearful, grew 
 the fallen spirits of the celestial swords; shriek 
 followed shriek, as they played through their 
 writhing forms; — they turned, and with a howl of 
 inconceivable agony, fled headlong. 
 
 Instantly the gloriously dreadful phenomenon 
 vanished. The flames of the burning palace sunk, 
 and left behind a black and reeking mass; the 
 heavens shone clear, freed from the volumes of 
 rolling, fiery vapours, and illumed by the pale 
 beams of approaching day. 
 
 The Azims gazed around them in amazement. 
 The whole appeared like a wondrous dream. The 
 terrible vision had disappeared, — and around them 
 lay the wide, magnificent city, with all its palaces 
 and gardens; a scene of splendour such as they 
 had never beheld. The inhabitants, roused by the 
 burst of flame which threw over the whole city a 
 sudden day — by the awful spectacle of the combus- 
 tion of the palace of their queen — by the fiery con- 
 test above it, and the cries of the contending spirits. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 207 
 
 beheld with astonishment little less, their streets 
 occupied by a hostile army. They looked with 
 wonder on so vast a multitude come upon them 
 they knew not how ; upon the singular aspect of 
 a host of hunters ; upon the Titanian and god-like 
 stature of their leaders. The Azims, with equal 
 surprise and curiosity, contemplated the soft, effe- 
 minate forms, the gay, luxurious dresses of the 
 voluptuous city. Their eyes wandered over the 
 vast assemblage of superb abodes, the sculptured 
 fountains, the gardens, the airy grots, and gorgeous 
 pavilions scattered through them ; the sunny waters 
 and flowery fields every where spread before the 
 charmed sight. It seemed a fit region for the abode 
 of gods — a glorious prize, to be won for themselves 
 and their posterity for ever. And won, it seemed 
 already. The city tribes regarded them with awed 
 hearts, as their conquerors ; and their princes and 
 senators, in silent procession advancing, laid at 
 their feet the insignia of command, and bowed 
 themselves to the dust before them. The Azim 
 chiefs, accepting their homage, dismissed them with 
 words of courtesy, and lifting up their eyes, gave 
 command to their followers to occupy the gates, 
 
208 THE EXILE 
 
 the towers upon the walls, and every strong position 
 of the city. At this moment the celestial spirits 
 returned from the pursuit of their foes, — drew 
 them into a neighbouring temple, and exclaimed, 
 — " Haste, and withdraw from the city ! We have 
 failed — all is lost ! Lilith has escaped ! The de- 
 mons, aware of our approach, have withdrawn her 
 to some undiscovered recess. Nichar, furious with 
 disappointment, seeks her far and wide; in the 
 air, in the caverns of the earth beneath, in the 
 mountains, and the depths of the river. But vain 
 will be his inquest! she is in the hands of the 
 subtlest of spirits. Burning with the shame of 
 their defeat, hither will tliey return with all the 
 powers of hell, and vainly should .we resist. But 
 we, alas ! cannot even await their return. Our 
 time is gone. God, whose decrees are wise, has 
 not made them known to us; but ye know that he 
 has commanded all the race of heaven not to shew 
 themselves henceforth openly amid the people of 
 the earth. He leaves men, now numerous as the 
 stars, to achieve their own destinies. Man's na- 
 ture, now matured by time, must walk in its own 
 strength. His decrees are right — his will is holy 
 
OF HEAVEN. 209 
 
 and good — we worship and obey. Not till another 
 moon can we seek again even the brief nocturnal 
 interview which he vouchsafes to our parental love. 
 High duties in the highest heavens will till then 
 detain us. Haste, haste then from this place. 
 Ye cannot hold it. To remain, is to perish. Ye 
 have made a glorious attempt; ye have shewn 
 yourselves possessors of a power which will free 
 you from aggression — reserve yourselves, there- 
 fore, for some happier opportunity to accom- 
 plish that vow upon the Goddess of all seductive 
 vanities, that cannot now be perfected. Haste, 
 haste away. Egress is now yours — a few hours 
 and it may be lost for ever. Away — and the bless- 
 ings of God be with you ! " They clasped their 
 children in their arms, and were gone. 
 
 Alas ! what is the strength of human nature ? 
 What is its wisdom in the noblest bosoms ? The 
 chiefs stood as in a fearful and bewildering dream. 
 Could it indeed be the voice of their victorious 
 parents which they heard ? They had seen them 
 assault, route, and pui:sue their foes ; and did they 
 come back to counsel them to flight ? — to flight, now 
 that with all their powers they were in possession 
 
210 THE EXILE 
 
 of that glorious city? " Shall we fly?" they ex- 
 claimed, " ere we have seen one cause for fear? 
 while the whole city is ours? with our strength 
 untried — its exertion yet uncalled for ? shall we fly 
 from the presence of this soft and peaceful people, 
 who bend at our feet, and ask only their feeble lives 
 at our hands ? shall we depart ere we have sought 
 and dragged from her concealment, that pernicious 
 being whose fatal presence has drawn hither our 
 angry arms? ere we have beheld the result of 
 Nichar's quest ? — Alas ! it were to cover ourselves 
 with shame — to become the wonder and the deri- 
 sion of the earth ! Nay — let us at least behold the 
 face of danger, and contend with it like men, before 
 we flee — let us dispose our forces in full readiness 
 to hold and to defend our glorious prize, and trust 
 in God to purge this fair city of its evil things." 
 
 It was the voice and the spirit of all. Alas ! how 
 little did these noble creatures know themselves, 
 or the work before them. Even now, while they 
 talked of disposing their forces for the maintenance 
 of their conquest, little did they know how far 
 more potent was the influence of the place in 
 which they were, upon their followers' hearts than 
 
OF HEAVEN. 211 
 
 their own commands; — little did they know how 
 deeply that influence was operating in their own 
 bosoms. They had caught a glimpse of the 
 splendours and amenities of the city; of every 
 pomp and witchery that can enchain the human 
 soul; and vain were all words of warning, from 
 within or without. To assert the cause of God ; 
 and to leave to their children a fair heritage of 
 rule and renown ; — these were the brilliant motives 
 which their spirits avowed and believed as the 
 moving springs of their deeds and designs, — but, 
 ah ! how many subtle impulses lay beneath ! Lost 
 in that intoxication of heart, which many a noble 
 nature has deemed the effect of lofty aspirations, 
 and has followed to its cost, they shut from their 
 bosoms the voice of their celestial guardians, and 
 went, in the fond belief of their own purity of 
 purpose, boldly on their »way. They roamed with 
 wondering eyes through all the various scenes of 
 that metropolis of Pleasure; through its palaces, its 
 gardens, its elysian fields ; they beheld its comely 
 people mirthful, and disposed to festivity even on 
 the day of their subjection ; its flower-crowned 
 daughters, beautiful as the children of heaven, and 
 
212 THE EXILE 
 
 endowed with a grace of motion, and with smiles 
 that sank like sunshine into the sternest bosom. 
 Everything around them had the air of a dream — 
 a dream of light, and loveliness, and music, that 
 might be expected to melt suddenly as it came. 
 The odours that floated profusely through the 
 warm air, seemed charged with the spirit of 
 delight ; songs, whose tones thrilled through the 
 breast with a power of delicious entrancement, 
 were heard issuing ever and anon from some hidden 
 bower, or the airy seclusion of a tent, spreading 
 its blue and golden curtains by the river's brim, on 
 some verdant and flowery lawn. 
 
 Through such scenes wandered the Azim lords, 
 not untouched by their spells ; but they everywhere 
 entered the temples, and vindicated the honour of 
 their high natures by prostrating the Pagan images, 
 and dashing them to atoms in their indignant 
 contempt. 
 
 The day waned. They beheld from the mount 
 of the palace, which they had chosen for their 
 abode, their guards and sentinels moving to and 
 fro on their appointed posts. They beheld them 
 slowly pacing the ramparts ; they heard the hum of 
 
OF HEAVEN. 213 
 
 the great peopled city sink into the quiet of night ; 
 and they lay down to repose in the elating con- 
 sciousness of newly-acquired dominion. But short 
 was their slumber. At midnight, startled by some 
 cry, some piercing alarm, whose nature they com- 
 prehended not, yet felt in their inmost souls to be 
 terrible, they sprang up, and beheld in their midst 
 a spirit, whose flaming brand, and countenance 
 burning with an ineiFable expression of indignation 
 and anxiety, filled them with overwhelming sen- 
 sations of terror and amaze. " Fly, wretched men ! 
 fly while ye may!" he cried. "You have sent 
 pain into the innermost heavens. Fly ! the evil 
 ones are at hand ! Hell ! — every vast and terrible 
 demon — the mighty potentates of craft, and malice, 
 and inextinguishable vengeance are at hand — Satan 
 himself at their head ! Away, if it be yet possible, 
 and this extreme warning of your agonized parents 
 be not vain as the first ! " As he spoke, in rushed 
 Nichar himself. His air was wild and frenzied. 
 His form was black and disfigured, as by the 
 scorching of the infernal fires. A host of con- 
 tending passions seemed written in his face; but 
 his words, which broke forth like impetuous light- 
 
214 THE EXILE 
 
 nings, were but an echo of the spirit's. " Fly, 
 fly ! the damned crew have borne away the cursed 
 Lilith. Through height and depth, through every 
 element which a spirit can inhabit, I have sought 
 her in vain ; and now the impious come, hot with 
 implacable revenge for their routed fellows and 
 insulted seat of empire. Away ! or ye are lost 1" 
 
 At once they rushed abroad, filled with a mighty 
 terror. They bade the trumpets sound to arms, 
 they flew from place to place to gather their troops 
 into hasty array. But who might effect that now ? 
 Who might burst that slumbrous spell, which now 
 the powers of evil had cast upon them, as heavily 
 as the spirits of light had cast theirs before upon 
 the people of Ukinim? Wherever they went, they 
 beheld the terrible traces of a night in which 
 they themselves had lain down to peaceful rest. 
 They beheld the remains of riotous feasts. Tents, 
 halls, vine-trellissed grots wide open to the night, 
 and lit with a thousand glimmering lamps, dis- 
 played tables with the costly apparatus of the 
 banquet — golden goblets still overflowing with 
 wine, or overturned in floods of their own nec- 
 tarous liquid ; and strewed around lay promiscuous 
 
OF HEAVEN. 215 
 
 throngs, of every age, sex and character, in deep 
 and inebriate stupor. The farther they went, it 
 was only to see spectacles which filled them with 
 grief and rage ; — spectacles which we cannot paint, 
 but which displayed the deadly devastations of one 
 licentious eve. They called upon their followers 
 to arise, they shook them roughly in their sleep, 
 but it was in vain ; — they beheld with horror, that 
 many were sleeping their last sleep. Amid the 
 prostrate groups, there were some who were 
 prostrate in death — amid the liquid which flowed 
 around them, was some of a deeper purple than 
 wine. Riot or treason had done fearful deeds, 
 
 Nichar, impelled by his solicitude, had also flown 
 forth to rouse the Azim hosts to flight; he too 
 had beheld with a sickening horror the destructive 
 agency of insidious license, and was standing in 
 despairing sorrow, when his eye was arrested by 
 an ominous sight. A sullen redness rose around 
 the whole city, like a dull fiery band, occupying 
 the lower regions of the sky, and gleaming above 
 the walls. It was not the light of morning; no 
 morning ever yet rose with so spectral an aspect. 
 He felt a sudden sense of horrible foreboding; and 
 
216 THE EXILE 
 
 behold ! even then, he could discover figures 
 moving to and fro on the city walls, which were 
 not the figures of the Azim sentinels. They were 
 the tall, gaunt, dusky shapes of hell; and dusky 
 banners, w^aved heavily from every tower. It was 
 a withering sight. Dark tents pitched all around 
 the city, occupied the whole space from its walls 
 to the feet of the mountains. On the mountain 
 sides themselves, he beheld martial groups, whose 
 waving fiery javelins gleamed dismally through the 
 dim, discoloured air. Eastward, before the chief 
 gate, stood a lofty pavilion, whose gloomy splen- 
 dour and dimensions, marked it as the station of 
 the Infernal King. The feebleness of despair 
 seemed to quench all Nichar's strength at once. 
 Flight for himself, was dubious — for the Azims, 
 impossible. But many moments were not left 
 him to ruminate on the coming misery. Scarcely 
 had he poised his floating form on the air, when 
 a host of dark shapes shot from various parts of 
 the wall, and encompassed him. To fly, was 
 vain — to combat, hopeless ; but he disdained to 
 surrender, without a struggle. As these hated 
 beings rushed upon him with harpy hands, and 
 
OF HEAVEN. 217 
 
 } 
 
 eyes that glowed with the fires of triumphant hate, 
 he dashed them from him, as a mighty rock hurls 
 back a furious rush of waves. Again they closed — 
 again he flung them oif. He turned and turned, 
 and gathering all the energies of his immortal 
 being, swept them down headlong through the air. 
 But it availed not ! numbers grew upon numbers ; 
 they seized and bore him to the earth. They 
 wrapped him in infernal chains, gave him to the 
 custody of two strong spirits, and departed with 
 lightning rapidity. Nichar found himself on the 
 mount of Lilith, by the smoking ruins of lier palace ; 
 but other circumstances suffered him not to contem- 
 plate that object. A sound as of a stormy ocean, 
 ascended to his ears, and casting his eye over the 
 city, what an excruciating spectacle was there ! 
 On all sides, far as vision could reach, the inha- 
 bitants of Ukinim had risen in murderous fury 
 against the Azims. He beheld, as it were, an 
 ocean of tossing heads, driven by contending im- 
 pulses, swaying to and fro like mighty currents. 
 Now this way, now that, he saw the rush and 
 pressure of the rage of life and passion, and the 
 mingled congregated sounds — the cries of fury 
 VOL I. L 
 
218 THE EXILE 
 
 and desperation, of agony, vengeance and despair, 
 rose awfully horrible. In the midst of the fierce 
 tumult, he saw the bands of the Azims scattered 
 here and there, contending vehemently, but in 
 vain, against the swarming millions who pressed 
 them on all sides; while over head, the demon- 
 troop brandished their flaming darts, and excited 
 the spirits of the men of Ukinim, with the venom 
 of uncontrolable rage. Here and there, but far 
 separate, appeared the lofty forms of the chieftains, 
 battling and beating down thousands around them, 
 as the mighty elephant crushes the lesser race of 
 men in the anger and agony of his wounds. They 
 fought — they exhorted their valiant followers — 
 they did deeds worthy of everlasting renown ; but 
 the contest was hopeless — one by one they fell, 
 and a rending shout of triumph proclaimed their 
 fall. In one spot, Nichar beheld a touching scene. 
 Four of these noble brothers stood back to back, 
 and with vast and massy batons, cleared around 
 them a dreadful field. But the arrows of the 
 Infernals reached them, — they perished; and over 
 them rushed the tide of frantic combatants. Again 
 he beheld another colossal chief, heading a nume- 
 
OF HEAVEN. 219 
 
 rous band, and cutting with irresistible strokes, a 
 passage towards the northern gate. It was Teleg ! 
 — that mighty form could not be another's — that 
 Sampsonian strength could be no man's but his. 
 On he marched ! before him the hosts inflamed 
 with the rabid malice of hell, recoiled; but 
 behind, pressed upon his dense phalanx of follow- 
 ers, the numberless infuriate foes. Now be turned 
 and scattered them — now strode hastily forward 
 to secure some important station. They reached 
 the river, — they crossed the light and airy bridge 
 which spanned it like a rainbow. Teleg lingering 
 in the rear, with his single arm, repelled the whole 
 host of assailants. Now they followed at his heels, 
 like a swarm of hornets — he seized the crowded 
 bridge with his mighty hands — it shook — it 
 writhed like a huge, convulsive serpent ; — it fell ! 
 and a dreadful yell arose from the perishing throng, 
 which the waters speedily quenched. The foe 
 recoiled from the river-banks in horrible astonish- 
 ment. Teleg led on his host towards the gate. 
 It was shut ! Again the foe pressed upon his 
 diminished numbers, who looked in dismay on the 
 closed, massy gates ; while from above, the malig- 
 
220 THE EXILE 
 
 nants assaulted them with burning arrows. The 
 might of Teleg concentrated itself into one stu- 
 pendous eiFort. He raised the colossal shaft of a 
 column that lay near, and driving fiercely against 
 the gate with a sound of thunder, it burst wide ; — 
 and the enfranchised band rushed through. Nichar 
 felt a transport of joy at the sight : it was of short 
 duration. Without the gates, arose the din of a 
 terrible conflict ; he could behold through the open 
 portal, a partial view of fiercely struggling num- 
 bers : — then burst forth a shout of boundless 
 triumph ; and he beheld two of the enemy return, 
 bearing into the city the head of Teleg, sus- 
 pended from the staif of his ponderous spear, by 
 its long and knotted locks. A crowd followed 
 the grizzly trophy, singing a pean of victory. 
 Alas ! the noble Teleg ! Nichar's eye recoiled 
 from the sight with a dizzy wildness; but it was 
 only to fall upon one still more painful. Every 
 lofty chief had vanished from view. Many were 
 fallen ; — some few had escaped, and were fighting 
 their way up the mountains, amidst swarms of 
 vindictive and harassing pursuers. One alone he 
 beheld, posted on a mount just within the wall — his 
 
OP HEAVEN. 221 
 
 band stretched dead around him; and he, the only 
 surviving Azim, defending his life from a million 
 weapons. It was Mochal ! — the young, the gene- 
 rous, — the joyous Mochal ! At the sight, Nichar, 
 forgetting everything but the peril of the precious 
 youth, and writhing vehemently in his chains, called 
 aloud — " Help ! help ! " as if his voice could reach 
 the struggling remnant who now approached the 
 mountain top. Oh, vain ! — he heard but the hellish 
 laugh of his grim guardians, and saw their fiery 
 eyes flash with a vengeful joy. But Mochal, the 
 hapless Mochal! — there he was alone! Every 
 friendly soul had fallen, or was gone, and the rage 
 of war, which had apparently subsided in all the 
 other regions of the city, gathered only more 
 fiercely around him. Like a lion at bay, he bore 
 himself with wondrous and undaunted bravery. 
 Here, there, he turned, and at every stroke his 
 massy spear made havock. His godlike form, con- 
 spicuous afar, and his stupendous deeds, might 
 have filled the fellest antagonist with a deathless 
 admiration : but what mortal, however magnifi- 
 cently endowed, could cope with that tempest of 
 rage ? Below, millions of daggers aimed at his 
 
222 THE EXILE 
 
 single life ; — from above showered millions of 
 flaming darts. They smote him — he fell, but 
 it was only on his knees to whelm the vigour 
 of his gigantic arms upon his astonished foes. 
 Struck — bleeding with numberless wounds and 
 infixed barbs, he still knelt, i)attleing with un- 
 quailing force ; but a stone precipitated from the 
 adjoining tower smote him, and he disappeared for 
 ever. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Scarcely had Nichar witnessed this last, and most 
 lamentable catastrophe, when he heard the rush as 
 of countless iron wings, and beheld the demon- 
 hosts dramng near him. They came, darkening 
 the air with their numbers, and alighting, formed 
 round him an awful circle. It was a terrible mo- 
 ment. He beheld himself in the midst of those 
 mighty powers of evil, whose very names were a 
 
OF HEAVEN. 223 
 
 terror ; whose dark renown filled the universe ; and 
 whose malignant strength had caused confusion in 
 the very heart of heaven. He stood there, a soli- 
 tary and friendless being. God had abandoned 
 him ; no spiritual natures had espoused his cause ; 
 the few mortals who had shewn him kindness were 
 destroyed ; and with the combined hatred of all 
 the powers of cruelty against him, he had no hope 
 to lean upon. It was a dreadful situation ; and he 
 felt all its horrors. When he lifted his eyes, and 
 glanced round the grim circle that environed him, 
 that horror sank tenfold more deeply into his 
 being. Those forms, which he had once known ^ 
 glorious in majesty, and beautiful in brightness, he 
 could still recognise, — the features and bearing of 
 these pre-eminent spirits were never to be entirely 
 changed ; but a darkness had passed upon them, 
 which but rendered what once constituted the pro- 
 minence of their divine beauty, the exaggeration 
 of their present terrific disfigurement. Sin, the 
 violence of rancorous and rending passions, the 
 fiery blasts and consuming ardour of their do- 
 lorous abodes, had rendered them hideous to look 
 upon. Cruelty and revenge, the evil will, the 
 
224 THE EXILE 
 
 base and blasphemous desire, were written broadly 
 in their faces. But more conspicuously had this 
 woful metamorphosis demonized the King of Hell. 
 Nichar beheld him posted over against him. He 
 had chosen for his seat of judgment a massy pro- 
 jection of rock, and sate gazing upon the prisoner 
 in gloomy silence. His gigantic form wore a ter- 
 rible hue, as if centuries of habitation in his fiery 
 climes, the immortality of despair and blasted 
 ambition, had left their burning blackness upon 
 him. That countenance, which had retained much 
 of the glorious beauty which clothed the mightiest 
 spirit of heaven, long after he had fallen to the 
 monarchy of Hell, was now a horrible mien,— dark, 
 repellent, and portentous. Evil, more devastating 
 to a spiritual essence than withering age to mortals, 
 had given a hideous deformity to those once sub- 
 lime features; and a thousand demoniac influences, 
 for ever operating on his stormy soul, stamped 
 them with an expression too fiercely malignant to 
 be long endured, even by the eye of his hardiest 
 followers. Yet his spectral figure, like some regal 
 tower that has been scathed by the fire of belea- 
 guering hosts, retained amid all its melancholy 
 
OF HEAVEN. 225 
 
 ravages an infernal majesty of beauty. He sate 
 like some mighty and impious being, whom the 
 lightning of heaven has suddenly blasted, and left 
 fixed on his seat — a warning spectacle for after 
 tyrants; and in his right hand he held his pon- 
 derous spear, whose point blazed like a star. 
 
 He fixed his dreadful eyes long upon Nichar, as 
 though he would annihilate in him, by their intole- 
 rable glare, every remaining sense of courage or 
 virtuous power ; but when he spoke, it was with a 
 fiendish smile. " Thanks, Nichar !" he pronounced 
 in a sarcastic tone; "thanks, good spirit, for thy 
 obliging acts. Two good deeds hast thou done, 
 for each of which thou well deservest my gratitude. 
 Lilith hast thou made, — the fairest object on earth 
 — the most potent rod of enchantment ever wrought 
 by man or angel, — the most transcendant stay and 
 extender of my empire upon earth. I could not 
 have devised her inestimable existence, but I can 
 thank thee for it now and for ever. There was a 
 nation, too, that resisted my influence — a single 
 race, that I could neither reduce nor subdue; and 
 these hast thou led up like a flock, wholly and 
 willingly to destruction — thou hast put them into 
 l3 
 
226 THE EXILE 
 
 my hand — and they are gone. The earth is now 
 mine ! I were less than Satan to refuse thee thy 
 choice of its pleasures and dominion. Take what 
 thou wilt ! " 
 
 As he listened to this mingled strain of taunt 
 and invitation, the spirit of Niehar revived — it 
 kindled — it refused, with hell and all its tortures 
 before him, to be still. He answered with an 
 indignant glance of fire, that feared not to fix itself 
 upon the spirit-withering countenance of Satan 
 with a bold unwavering regard. " Satan, I scorn 
 alike thy gibes and thy specious goods !" As the 
 words issued from his lips, the arch-fiend stooped 
 the blazing point of his spear to the earth ; — in the 
 same moment a yawning chasm opened at his feet, 
 through whose blackness a pale, blue vapour as- 
 cended ; and the two strong guards of Niehar 
 seizing upon him, plunged headlong down the 
 abyss. Their descent was a long and spirit-winged 
 rush, through a profound immensity, where the 
 breath of life never came; — a flight in which years 
 of human speed would be consumed — yet it was 
 but a brief travel, and a sudden entrance into a 
 hot and withering atmosphere. Niehar, with the 
 
OF HEAVEN. 227 
 
 quick intelligence of a spirit, knew that they were 
 in the regions of central flame, and his vision con- 
 firmed that instant judgment. Above them, glowed 
 a concave, apparently vast as our upper sky; below 
 were seas of molten matter, which rolled their igne- 
 ous waves with a chaos of soul-confounding sounds. 
 The terrible roof broke into many vast and irre- 
 gular concavities ; for ever dropped melted matter, 
 like rain; and covered with curling, dusk-red flame, 
 flung down a heat tenfold hotter than the intensest 
 furnace, which the fiery ocean below reverberated ; 
 and burning blasts, armed with torture even for the 
 hardiest spirit, roared through the intermediate 
 space. The heavy, molten seas, here rolled in 
 huge swells — there leaped up furiously, and coiled 
 in radiant rage against dark adamantine rocks ; and 
 a multitude of sounds rose from the dolorous 
 abyss, full of varied and inconceivable horror. 
 Cries, thrilling lamentations, as of feeble and tender 
 souls; sudden shrieks, at which even the damned 
 place, and all its uproar, seemed for a startled mo- 
 ment stilled ; bestial barkings, and hoarse and 
 bellowing yells, that seemed sent from iron lungs 
 of vast and monstrous natures, that rose above the 
 
228 THE EXILE 
 
 general din, multiplied tlieir dismal echoes in 
 vaulted regions above, and died not but in the 
 far-off distance. 
 
 Nichar's keepers hurried on towards a huge and 
 gloomy fane, that occupied a broad rock in the 
 centre of the Seas of Misery. The rock, bare and 
 bleak, was surrounded by a chaos of projecting 
 crags, rearing themselves in every wild and deso- 
 late shape, as if to repel all approach. The fabric, 
 gloomy as night, seemed built of solid bronze. 
 Above, its roof was lost in clouds of fire and 
 smoke ; below, vast and heavy arches opened it on 
 all sides, and gave wide scene of the regions of 
 torture and despair. Within, a floor of the same 
 black but burning metal ; and the same ponderous 
 arches in rows, diverging from the centre to im- 
 mense distances, and bearing the roof, which, as 
 without, was lost in its lofty gloom, were the only 
 visible objects, except the towering central throne 
 of the infernal monarch. A flight of wide gigantic 
 steps ascended to it; and on each extremity of 
 every step, lay the crouching image of a chained 
 dragon. On each hand of the penal throne, hung 
 suspended by chains, a huge metallic sphere : 
 
OF HEAVEN. 229 
 
 that on the right was silver ; that on the left was 
 brass. Scarcely had Nichar time to contemplate this 
 melancholy abode, when he heard the dashing of 
 myriad iron pinions, and the hosts of the infernals 
 rushed like a numberless flock of evil birds into the 
 palace. Thousands on thousands alit, at once filling 
 the place. Far as the eye could reach, on every 
 side, the floor was crowded by dusky shapes, whose 
 eyes, like burning lamps, flung back the sullen 
 light of surrounding hell. Nichar looked towards 
 the throne, and beheld on every dragon-shape, an 
 infernal potentate ; and on his tribunal, the terrific 
 Lucifer himself. He held in his right hand a 
 heavy golden sceptre, and the assembled millions 
 awaited his words, in silence profound as vacuity 
 itself. He turned his eye upon Nichar, and thus 
 addressed him : " Great spirit, — for we know thy 
 original rank and power, as ours are not unknown 
 to thee, — perhaps my words but lately heard, were 
 not grave enough to declare my real meaning. I 
 behold thee here my captive, in my own abode, 
 subjected to my unquestioned will; but I seek 
 not, therefore, to abate one atom of the respect in 
 which I hold thee. Thou hast done us good 
 
230 THE EXILE 
 
 service ; I avow it in sincerity ; and I say, as is 
 worthy of thee and us — be free ! Embrace these 
 thine ancient brethren. Thou, like them, hast 
 nobly asserted thy freedom : at once then — be 
 free ! Add to theirs thy mighty power, and make 
 the day when the independent spirits shall prevail, 
 nearer by that union. Behold thy throne ! Thou 
 hast well won it. As thou wert noble and potent 
 in heaven, be thou noble and potent here. Mil- 
 lions of kindred spirits wait impatiently to embrace 
 thee as a brother — to hail thee as a king !" He 
 smote the silver sphere with his sceptre. A clear 
 inspiriting sound rung from it through all that ' 
 nether space, which struck, with its eager note, the 
 soul of life, activity, and daring courage in every 
 living form. A million glad and clamouring 
 voices burst forth at once ; and " Welcome ! 
 welcome, Nichar ! " rang, in animating acclaim, 
 through all the air. Even Nichar himself could 
 not resist the sharp, spirit-stirring spell of the 
 wondrous sound; but he struggled with his as- 
 saulted heart, and answered not by look or voice 
 the acclamation of millions. " Dost thou hesitate, 
 Nichar?" exclaimed Satan, — "can it be possible ? 
 
OF HEAVEN. 231 
 
 What, I pray tliee, is thy destiny, present or to 
 come, that thou canst place it in the balance for a 
 moment with the dominion, fellowship, and hope 
 which I offer thee? Art thou not an outcast — a 
 solitary outcast, scorned and expelled from thy 
 native seats, by the good, the piteous spirits of 
 heaven; unallied to any living thing? and wilt 
 thou live on thus joyless, friendless, and hopeless, 
 for ever? Shall this be the destiny of thy noble 
 nature — of thy force and faculties, capable of 
 achieving wonders for the oppressed and perse- 
 cuted spirits? Dost thou hope for reconcilement 
 with God ? Oh, simple and unreflecting spirit ! 
 Look! look back through thy miserable ages of 
 exile ! Look through those which have beheld our 
 places vacant in heaven ! What seest thou ? 
 Mercy ? forgiveness ? aught like compassion to- 
 wards what the self-styled Almighty — the Benefi- 
 cent, terms the works of his hands? Dost tho,u 
 see that love of which he boasteth himself the 
 fountain, overleap its bounds for a moment, to shed 
 one drop upon the millions of immortal creatures 
 that he dooms to pain? Awake, Nichar, from 
 thy dream ! Cast from thee the blinding veil of a 
 
232 THE EXILE 
 
 lingering attachment to what thou hast once loved, 
 and behold the truth ! He, he, with his obse- 
 quious satellites, lives in pomp, pleasure, and luxu- 
 rious ease ; but millions of spirits weep and pine in 
 regions of iron and despairing wrath ; and not for 
 one instant does it disturb his sublime tranquillity. 
 No, no, Nichar, hope it not ! Hast thou not wept, 
 and prayed, and bowed thyself sorrowfully before 
 him, and clung to his law, and made his foes thy 
 foes; and hath it won for thee one smile — one 
 moment's mitigation of thy grief — one hope, how- 
 ever distant ? Arise, Nichar ! Cast off that crin- 
 ging, suppliant air !— put on strength and dignity, 
 which once were thine ; for hope, be thou assured, 
 dwells but in thine own arm ! What hast thou 
 done ? We who have warred and resisted, and 
 still with heart and hate resist, — we may behold 
 and wonder not at his inexorable nature ; but thou, 
 who, in an idle moment, didst commit a venial 
 offence, — if offence that may be called which no 
 law forbade, and which gave to the earth the 
 brightest of its inhabitants : thou, who hast never- 
 theless mourned thy deed, and sought through 
 earth and air to expiate it, — thou art hopeless as 
 
OF HEAVEN. 233 
 
 we ! But we are 7iot hopeless ! Hope, a glorious 
 hope is ours, and bears us through evil ages and 
 unworthy scorn ! We contend for power — power 
 which will at length determine the empire of the 
 universe ; and blind must he be, who does not dis- 
 cover whither it is tending. Millions of new 
 beings swell daily the great ocean of existence; 
 and whose are they? To whom do they fly? 
 To us ! — they are ours ! Time for ever augments 
 — will for ever augment our host, and shews more 
 clearly the feeble few who adhere to our haughty 
 foe. Time will ultimately give us a weight of 
 living power, boundless and irresistible. Wouldst 
 thou then grasp a noble revenge ? Wouldst thou 
 be wise, and happy, and glorious ? Behold the 
 evident means ! 'T is in that vacant throne ! " 
 
 " Vain w^ords, Satan!" indignantly replied Nichar 
 — " vain words ! vain boasts ! while this pavement 
 burns beneath my feet ; while I see your hideous 
 aspects, and these dolours are around ! I scorn 
 thy throne ; I hate thy language ; and though 
 God forsake me, and yon burning ocean be my 
 eternal bed, I bow alone to God, and declare him 
 good, as thou and thine are base ! " 
 
234 . THE EXILE 
 
 At these words, a fierce murmur arose in the 
 dense million; and Satan, writhing on his throne, 
 his face became too horrible for the eye in 
 the black deformity of rage. He smote the 
 brazen sphere with a furious stroke, and a deep 
 and bellowing din burst forth, that filled every 
 breast with sensations of horrible and unutterable 
 dismay. The damned spirits shrunk trembling at 
 the sound, and Nichar felt in his inmost soul the 
 overwhelming terrors of its deadly and unnerving 
 power. " See then," cried the fierce demon, 
 "whether thy God will save thee!" He bowed 
 his sceptre, and the two strong spirits laid hands 
 on Nichar ; but at that moment, a flash of devour- 
 ing brilliancy shot down through the gloomy 
 dome, and smiting the iron pavement, burned 
 with a terrible and blinding intensity for a moment; 
 then diverged in a hundred vivid and voracious 
 streams of flame through the dismal hall. Nichar 
 knew the bolt of the Eternal, and prostrated him- 
 self on the floor. A confusion, as of tempests in 
 the deeps of chaos, was around him, but the tumult 
 in his soul rendered it unheard. When he raised 
 his head, the innumerable host of demons had 
 
OF HEAVEN. 235 
 
 disappeared — the wide dome was empty, save that 
 on the steps of the throne the chiefs of hell lay 
 prostrate on their faces. Satan alone erect, in a 
 rigid and convulsive attitude of mingled terror, 
 rage, and defiance, with his clenched right hand 
 aloft, and dark and scowling eye, fixed on the 
 quarter whence the lightning came, dared horribly 
 the Almighty power. 
 
 But it was only for a moment that Nichar 
 beheld this baleful sight; an irresistible influence 
 buoyed him up, and bore him rapidly away. The 
 rush was impetuous — at the fleetest spirit's speed ; 
 — it ceased, and he beheld himself with wonder 
 on the same eminence whence he recently looked 
 down upon Ukinim; and saw again the golden 
 city, shining peacefully in the beams of the 
 evening sun. 
 
236 THE EXILE 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Who may describe tlie heart of Nichar at this 
 moment? He appeared to have escaped from a 
 horrible dream, — but one shining and triumphant 
 fact shone full upon his mind with a precious 
 certainty : — the arm of Omnipotence had been 
 stretched to save him ! He was not forsaken ! not 
 abandoned by God ! Hope ! hope ! the most 
 transporting hope was his once more. He, whose 
 eye followed him to the lowest depths of flame, — 
 whose hand was put forth to snatch him from the 
 grasp of the Evil Ones, could not have cast him 
 off for ever ! His love, though unseen, hovered 
 about him. He was tried, but not rejected ! 
 There was a brilliant prospect yet to open upon 
 him. He repeated again those awful words which 
 had rung in his ears incessantly, with a sound of 
 unmingled despair : " Go, and contemplate through 
 ages the effect of a moment ! " and now they 
 seemed to bear a more lenient interpretation. It 
 
OF HEAVEN. 237 
 
 was not for ever ! For ages lie had borne bitterly 
 the contemplation of those terrible and boundless 
 effects; this day's dispensation whispered to him 
 of a termination — perhaps an early one to his trials. 
 He had discerned that the Divine love still, though 
 invisible, surrounded him ; and it was enough. A 
 new and buoyant life possessed him, — a tide of 
 blissful feeling rushed over him. Air and earth 
 were to his vision, wrapped in new and glorious 
 hues ; and the heavens ! — the sublime heavens 
 above — again they smiled graciously upon him, 
 with a tender and reconciled smile. He threw 
 himself prostrate upon the rock, and poured out 
 his soiil in an ecstasy of uncontrolable happiness 
 and thanksgiving. " God ! God ! thou art yet 
 with me. Thou hast beheld my sorrows, — the 
 withering agonies of my spirit, the black despair 
 which covered it like a funereal garment. Oh, 
 God ! they were beheld by thee, when I deemed 
 that thou hadst turned away from me for ever thy 
 eternal and undeceivable eyes. Oh, Almighty 
 Father ! it is enough ! it is enough ! I have erred 
 foolishly — I have sinned presumptuously — I have 
 borne thy inflictions impatiently ; — thou art 
 
238 THE EXILE 
 
 righteous, and wise, and good. It is enough — 
 it is enough ! — that thou still followest me with 
 thy everlasting love. Lay on still thy just and 
 retributive hand. Let my trials and my wander- 
 ings endure, while it shall seem good in those pure 
 and serene eyes, which the mists of ignorance 
 never approached, which passion never dimmed, 
 and which the unfathomable life of thy Infinite 
 spirit cannot even divert from the work of wisdom. 
 Yes, let me still be a poor, despised, and tempest- 
 bufi'eted outcast upon thy earth ; let me share, as 
 is meet, in the evil which I have contributed to 
 sow largely in it ; pour upon me the viol of that 
 holy wrath, which consumeth but to revivify ; but, 
 oh ! let not the assurance of thy love, let not the 
 hope of a final restoration to thy glorious abode 
 evermore be quenched within me; and let me, if it 
 be accordant with thy sure designs, be permitted 
 to arrest the march of that evil, which I have let 
 loose so lamentably on thy creation !" 
 
 He arose like a new creature. The rosy atmo- 
 sphere of heaven seemed once more around; its 
 elastic gladness once more to clothe his spirit. For 
 days and weeks he walked in this intoxication of 
 
OF HEAVEN. 239 
 
 felicity ; he saw not the world around him, for his 
 vision was turned upon his heart ; and there contem- 
 plated all the bright scenes which had once filled it 
 with rejoicing, and which hope now whispered were 
 about to return. But by degrees the force of his 
 enthusiasm abated. The pale face of the earth, and 
 its cold realities, became visible through the lumi- 
 nous exhalations of intemperate joy, and reflection 
 and sighs broke together into the warm sanctuary 
 of his heart. There, below him, was that Uliinim, 
 the seat of his vain enterprise, shining in its peace- 
 ful glory as if nothing had interrupted its tran- 
 quillity. The traces of war were already obliterated. 
 He beheld a new and lofty mount arisen in the 
 centre of the city. It was called the Hill of Giants 
 — for it contained the heaped bodies of his unfortu- 
 nate friends; and upon that mount arose once 
 more in augmented splendour the temple and palace 
 of Lilith. As he gazed on it, many a piercing and 
 melancholy reflection awoke ; — the fair land of the 
 Azims, how fared it now ? He turned and directed 
 his flight instantly there — it was a heart-rending 
 scene ! A few of the Azims had escaped the 
 massacre of Ukinim. A few of the mighty chiefs 
 
240 THE EXILE 
 
 had cut their way through opposing thousands, and 
 followed by the remnant of their people, had 
 reached their own hills — harassed by swarms of 
 vindictive pursuers. They reached their own hills, 
 but it was not to enjoy peace. At their heels came 
 pouring the fierce and triumphant swarms of Ukinim. 
 They came streaming along those sweet valleys, up 
 those beloved hills, like the countless armies of the 
 locusts ; and before them every thing fell into sorrow 
 or destruction. The strong warriors fell beneath 
 the sword; the weeping women and children be- 
 neath the yoke of captivity. With breaking hearts 
 they passed, before the spears of their foes, from 
 those beautiful and endeared scenes ; and the Zam- 
 zummims, a ferocious and gigantic tribe, armed 
 with ponderous clubs, clad in the skins of beasts, 
 and rude and bloody as the beasts themselves, 
 came up and possessed themselves of the hill- 
 country of the Azims. It was no longer the 
 land of pastoral and romantic beauty ; those massy 
 towers no longer resounded to the kingly voice of 
 the harp ; no longer contained the fairest and the 
 noblest creatures on earth ; a savage and gloomy 
 silence brooded over them, and lay like a fearful 
 
OF HEAVEN. 241 
 
 spell upon the whole land. Nichar turned from the 
 scene in speechless horror and prostration of heart. 
 He reflected on his recent exultation as a species of 
 madness. Yes ! while he was pouring out his soul 
 in thankful gladness, his friends were perishing; 
 their families were the prey of the enslaver ; their 
 country desolated for ever. Whilst he flattered 
 himself that God relented towards him, the direst 
 punishment of his sin fell upon him ; and the only 
 race which adhered to the laws and the spirit of 
 heaven, was rooted out from the earth. Oh ! vain 
 hopes of speedy success ! where were they ? The 
 whole earth was now overwhelmed by the tide of 
 sin. The tribe of Seth had by degrees fallen away 
 and amalgamated with the race of Cain. There 
 was not a single bright spot where the hope which 
 Nichar had so fondly entertained, could linger, — it 
 was one universal waste of crime and brutality. 
 
 Let us hasten on ! There is nothing to retard 
 our steps. It would be a joyless task to follow the 
 again-despairing and downcast angel, through years 
 of darkness. Yet such was his lot. At times he 
 recollected his wondrous deliverance from the realms 
 of dolor, and a faint hope revived that he was not 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 THE EXILE 
 
 utterly abandoned — that he was more thoroughly 
 to be tried ; but without, there was nothing to sus- 
 tain that belief for a moment. 
 
 Vice — lawless, bloody, sensual, and detestable, 
 every where prevailed. The spirit of evil had 
 grown gigantic and hideous in the extreme. 
 Wherever he went, there were varied scenes; 
 varied deeds, but their character was one — and 
 that was diabolical. Here, noon-day revel and 
 license ; here conflict and individual violence ; and 
 here would come sudden invasion, quenching riot 
 and contention in one grand and wholesale gush of 
 blood. 
 
 It was Nichar's destiny to abide in such scenes 
 for ages, loathing to witness them, yet bound as 
 by a penal spell to their presence. At length a 
 wondrous spectacle arose before him. He beheld 
 one righteous family, busily employed in building 
 a strange and immense vessel, or house of wood. 
 He heard them talk of a coming deluge, which would 
 sweep away mankind. He heard their neighbours 
 jeering and mocking them as dreamers, but beheld 
 them steadily toiling at the ark, with the earnest- 
 ness of men who are convinced of the importance 
 
OF HEAVEN. 243 
 
 and urgency of tlieir labours. And it came ! a 
 dreadful and pitiless deluge. He beheld creatures 
 of every kind, fly for protection to the ark, — all, 
 save infatuated men.* He saw the patriarch and 
 his family ascend it; and the invisible hand of 
 God shut them in ; and, at once, earth and skies 
 seemed wrapped together in tempestuous confu- 
 sion; and waters gushed abroad, as if the earth 
 would dissolve itself into an ocean. A gloomy 
 and spectral shade covered the world ; the sun [was 
 hidden by the deluging rains and heavy vapours ; 
 winds rushed furiously through the air, and howled 
 amongst the mountains. The people fled preci- 
 pitately from the plains. At first, they loaded 
 themselves and their beasts with their treasures, 
 and with every household article, however ponder- 
 ous and worthless. But the tempest was too 
 urgent — the waters rose too fast. Their labouring 
 beasts struggled on in vain ; and themselves were 
 overwhelmed with their burdens, and their anxiety. 
 They threw off their loads, reserving only their 
 most precious things, and leaving their beasts to 
 perish, rushed eagerly to the hills. Desperate as 
 their situation was become, the desperateness of 
 
244 THE EXILE 
 
 their wickedness rose above it. They cast fierce 
 glances at the ark, that now borne up by the 
 waters, sailed solemnly away; and shouted with 
 bitter mockery, " Oho ! old man there, take us 
 with thee, surely we are better company than what 
 thou hast got!" Others cursed him and his ark, 
 and predicted their common destruction, regardless 
 of their own ruinous case : and a crowd of others 
 wildly swimming to the ark, attempted to climb 
 into it; but its doors were closed by an Almighty 
 hand — it flung them off as it did the assaulting 
 waves of that dread sea, and bore silently and 
 gloomily on its course. The scene was now in- 
 expressibly awful. The cries of children, the 
 lamentations of women, the fierce rage of despair- 
 ing and demoralized men, filled the mountains 
 with an anarchy of horror. Faster, faster the 
 flood pursued. Terror and despair gave strength 
 and velocity to some, while it quenched it in others. 
 All feelings were absorbed in self-preservation ; 
 every hour, thousands were swallowed up; and 
 the higher the fugitives ascended, it was only to 
 command a wider survey of their pitiless enemy's 
 immensity and power. The last visible summits 
 
OF HEAVEN. *245 
 
 of the mountains, exhibited a spectacle which repels 
 all human description. There every fierce beast, 
 — every venomous serpent and reptile were con- 
 centred, rabid with terror, and repelled the further 
 advance of men, desperate as themselves. It was 
 a chaos of every horror and horrible sound, brute 
 and human force, fierce and furious in blind ex- 
 asperation, warring to the death. 
 
 But Nichar ! — a spirit had seized him, scarcely 
 less vehement. A hope had burst upon him, that 
 kindled all his nature into a flame ; and rendered 
 him regardless of the immense misery around him. 
 The flood would destroy all mortal things — Lilith 
 would perish ! Her doom was certain; for whither 
 could she fly to escape it? Fired with the mo- 
 mentous hope, he posted himself on the hills above 
 Ukinim, and watched the progress of the deluge 
 with an intense avidity. He beheld the river, 
 swelled by a thousand sudden torrents from the 
 hills, speedily expand into a vast lake. He saw 
 the outlet through the mountains, quickly choked 
 with floating trees, and the ruins of demolished 
 fabrics : and the waters rise above the guilty city, 
 with a rapidity which left no chance of escape. 
 
246 THE EXILE 
 
 He saw mount after mount submerged, palace 
 after palace disappear, till alone their golden vanes 
 were visible above the waters. The palace of 
 Lilith being the highest, was the last engulphed, 
 and he gazed with trembling agitation, as the flood 
 rose rapidly up its sides. " There ! there !" he 
 exclaimed, in irrepressible transport, " there ! thy 
 doom, detestible creature, is sealed. Where, now, 
 are the arts of thy servile and zealous demons ? 
 Thou art gone ! Omnipotence has reached thee 
 at last !" What, then, was his amaze, as the 
 billows dashed upon the roof, to behold a radiant 
 car sustained on the shoulders of strong spirits, 
 rise from the dome, and Lilith, glorious in appa- 
 rent youth and beauty, as at the hour of her 
 creation, sitting beneath a gorgeous canopy, was 
 borne triumphantly away ! At the sight, the spirit 
 of a demon seemed to possess Nichar himself. He 
 groaned and stamped with furious rage, and utter- 
 ing words of hate and vengeance, pursued the 
 pageant with impetuous speed. On, on it went : 
 but whither should it go ? The flood had swal- 
 lowed up the mountains themselves ; then, whither 
 should it go? As Nichar followed it, and gazed 
 
OF HEAVEN. '247 
 
 upon the illimitable expanse of ocean, a savage 
 joy rushed over his heart, and with triumphant ex- 
 ultation, he exclaimed, " Ay, sail on, sail on ! Those 
 demon-slaves can bear thee far, — they will not 
 tire, it is true ; but can they sustain thee for days, 
 perhaps for years ? Where are the fruits and the 
 wines, and the delicate food with which they have 
 been wont to feast thee ? They are perished — and 
 perish thou too, speedily ! " On, on they went ; 
 and Nichar still followed. It was still ocean — 
 boundless, lifeless ocean. For days and nights, 
 they still bore on. Every hour, Nichar rose in 
 energy and hope, for now the Beautiful One 
 began to languish and droop, and at length, sank 
 as utterly exhausted. " Joy ! joy ! the fatal time 
 is come ! '* he cried, " Blessed be these whelming 
 waters. They have freed the world from its 
 crowning curse ! " 
 
 But what was that which darkened the horizon 
 as the morning sun arose ? Was it a cloud ? — 
 a deceptive vapour ? — or could it be — a spot which 
 the waves had not covered? It was ! — a shout 
 of triumph from the demons announced it, and 
 now his own vision confirmed their acclaim. An 
 
248 THE EXILE 
 
 islet, rocky but fair, and covered with a variety 
 of trees bending with golden fruit, was there. 
 The demons alit, and pouring into the mouth 
 of their exhausted charge, the expressed juice of 
 the grape, Nichar beheld her arise refreshed, and 
 smile in pleased wonder at her novel situation. 
 He beheld the active spirits speedily construct for 
 her a summer tabernacle, and bring from the 
 different quarters of the island, various flowers 
 and fruits, and lay them before her. Confounded 
 and mortified at the sight, he looked around, and 
 prayed that the waters might yet arise and bury 
 this spot, which they had hitherto spared, in 
 their bosom. But they rose not — they fell ! He 
 saw it, and murmured at the sight, and felt within 
 him a desperate desire that he could heave the 
 billows with his hand, and whelm the cursed 
 creature in them. But his wishes were impotent 
 — daily the waters fell — and fell ; and Nichar turned 
 away, tormented with the gnawing of defeated 
 hopes, and marvelling at the inscrutable designs 
 of God, who had destroyed mankind for their 
 wickedness, yet suffered the grand spring of that 
 wickedness to escape, as if purposely to subject the 
 reviving race to her enchantments. 
 
OF HEAVEN. 249 
 
 Disappointment and despair pursued him on his 
 flight. Daily he discerned more and more of the 
 re-appearing mountains. It was a scene void, 
 slimy, and cheerless. The world, and his mind, 
 seemed to wear one character — that of desolation. 
 He beheld the Patriarch and his family descend 
 from the ark; but he paused not to contemplate 
 their motions ; he hastened into the high moun- 
 tainous regions beyond, and sate down in gloomy 
 meditation on the events which had recently pass- 
 ed. The ways of God seemed to him darker and 
 darker; his own existence hopeless and loathsome. 
 He had long indulged these reflections, when he 
 beheld seated near him, a silent spirit of venerable 
 aspect. It was the Spirit of the Ages. He held 
 upon his knees a stupendous volume, and slowly 
 turned over, one by one, its huge stony pages. 
 Nichar gazed on the book with wonder, for he saw 
 there portrayed the figures of many strange and 
 mighty creatures — creatures of precisely similar 
 natures to those which he had beheld in a far 
 distant planet. " Spirit," he said, " what doest 
 thou?" " I am about to lodge," he replied, " the 
 Book of the World in the archives of the earth. 
 m3 
 
250 THE EXILE 
 
 Many changes has the all-directing hand wrought 
 in this globe. They are now complete. Here- 
 after, many ages hence, when men are numerous 
 in the earth, and are wise in their own eyes, they 
 will ask of the origin of everything, and their 
 hearts, puffed up with the vanity of much disjointed 
 knowledge, shall answer them with many plausible 
 theories. Much will they argue, and infer, and 
 demonstrate to their own contentment; and shall 
 deny the written records of these times. In their 
 eyes they will be as vain fables, and vain fables as 
 truth. But the earth, treasured in these her an- 
 cient archives, shall retain the impressions of all 
 her primeval changes and wonderful creatures ; 
 and they shall see them, and wonder, and be con- 
 founded." 
 
 "Oh! happy spirit !" exclaimed Nichar, "thou 
 art admitted to the councils of the Most High ! 
 For me, I wander in darkness and sorrow. Fierce 
 desires torment me — vain hopes allure me — but 
 disappointment and despair are the sure fruits of 
 my toils. Oh ! that I might for a moment pierce 
 the veil of providence — then should I at once sit 
 down in the stony arms of despair, or go on rejoic- 
 ing and invincible ! " 
 
OF HEAVEN. 251 
 
 " Nichar !" replied the spirit, " hear the will of 
 Heaven ! That God has not forsaken thee, he 
 has himself made known by plucking thee from the 
 hands of the Evil Ones. Confide, then, and be 
 strong. Thou hast sinned, and must abide in trial 
 till the results of thy error are full. Thou and I 
 are alike bound to the destinies of this world. It 
 is mine to number its times and seasons. To over- 
 throw the works of man ; to spread through all 
 things mildew and decay; not that man may labour 
 in vain, but that he may be for ever excited to 
 higher and more glorious efforts. And every suc- 
 ceeding age shall behold him ascending in the 
 scale of existence. He shall achieve lofty and 
 magnificent works. He shall no longer be left to 
 renew, in objectless ease, those evils which have 
 brought the flood upon the earth; but he shall 
 perpetually project and execute something new, 
 till the world is full of his works, and his mind has 
 impressed upon matter many of its own marvels. 
 
 "But his career will not henceforth be pure and 
 happy. A mighty contest is begun, which will not 
 be terminated till ages on ages have rolled away. 
 Evil is let loose, and will not soon be quenched. 
 
'25*2 THE EXILE 
 
 Mighty powers are already in terrible contention. 
 Good and Evil — Light and Darkness — Knowledge 
 and Ignorance, are grappling with each other, and 
 many direful centuries shall be devasted by their 
 rage. I need not say which shall triumph ; — what- 
 ever partakes of the nature of the Omnipotent is 
 itself invincible; — late but glorious will be the 
 victory. In the mean time wars shall rage, tyranny 
 shall prevail ; cunning and selfish priests shall per- 
 vert the holy name of Religion to a gainful engine, 
 and the multitude, easily deceived by craft and 
 avarice, shall be enslaved to the worst slavery — 
 that of wreaking upon each other the vengeance 
 which they ought to turn upon their deceiving 
 oppressors. Yet out of the force, the conflicts, 
 and the miseries of evil, shall arise the sublimity of 
 human nature. Thy task it shall be, through all 
 these years of destroying and bloody strife, to 
 wander through the world, raising thy hand against 
 evil power, and thy heart against evil knowledge. 
 Men shall call thee by many names — the Good 
 Angel, — Pity, — Mercy, and such gentle appella- 
 tions. Where some fierce king breathes threats of 
 war, thou shalt touch his heart, and turn it to 
 
OF HEAVEN. 253 
 
 peace. Where the tide of war already rolls its 
 crimson waves, there shalt thou be, strengthening 
 the weak, soothing the terrified, and calming the 
 agony of burning wounds. Where the strong man 
 is ready to smite down the feeble, there shalt thou 
 arrest his brutal arm. Where selfish men shall 
 grind the widow and the fatherless, thou shalt 
 rouse the soul of the feeble to a fiery indignation, 
 that shall make the base, hard nature tremble in its 
 own vileness, and shall raise a wall of defence 
 around the sorrowful. Thou shall be with the 
 judge upon his tribunal, whispering gentle words 
 of the prisoner before him; — with the pirate on the 
 wild seas — the robber in his forest den — on the 
 streets of a violated town. In every human ex- 
 tremity, it shall be thine — as evil was by thee let 
 loose — there to arrest its progress ; to break its 
 power ; to heal its ravages. A vast, a long, an 
 incessant labour lies before thee, till the destined 
 time shall arrive — and the Son of the Highest shall 
 descend, to terminate the mighty conflict of Good 
 and Evil; and Good, Knowledge, and Light, shall 
 stretch their ample wings without a foe, and spread 
 their splendid triumphs round the globe. I say a 
 
254 THE EXILE OF HEAVEN. 
 
 long and arduous course is thine, but not without 
 its reward. The human destinies and thine are 
 bound together, and brightly shall your restoration 
 finally arise !" 
 
 As Nichar heard this clear announcement of the 
 will of Heaven, he knelt on the earth, his hands 
 crossed upon his bosom, and his head bowed down. 
 A celestial red diflused itself over his features, and 
 his tears fell like rain. Where they fell, there 
 immediately sprang the healing Balm. It put forth 
 leaves and flowers, and breathed its animating 
 odours round them. As the Spirit of the Ages 
 ceased, Nichar arose, and plucking a branch from 
 the tree, placed it in his bosom, and went on his 
 wav. 
 
ITHRAN THE DEMONIAC. 
 
ITHRAN THE DEMONIAC. 
 
 It was during the latter part of that remarkable 
 period in the history of the world, when the 
 Hebrews, passing from Egypt to Canaan, had 
 encamped in the wilderness of Kadesh, that a 
 young hunter went forth one morning from the 
 borders of Mount Seir. He had pursued a herd of 
 wild antelopes across one of the wide, sandy tracts 
 of those regions, till he beheld them take refuge 
 among some rocky hills at a considerable distance 
 before him. When he reached this craggy soli- 
 tude, a variety of narrow valleys that opened 
 between the cliffs, distracted his attention, and, 
 pausing to consider which he should pursue, he 
 observed for the first time — what his enthusiasm 
 had hitherto prevented him from noticing — that 
 
258 ITHRAN 
 
 the sun had nearly reached the mid-heaven, that 
 the heat was intense, and that a burning thirst 
 and a throbbing brow demanded the refreshments 
 of shade and water. Added to this pressing neces- 
 sity, he knew that to attempt to retrace those 
 scorching sands till the heat of the day was past, 
 was next to impossible ; and beside, he hoped yet 
 to surprise his game in some of the seclusions of 
 these rocks. Selecting therefore, in preference to 
 the others, a glen, which, by the dampness of the 
 sand in its bottom, gave indication of water higher 
 up, he followed its windings for a long time with 
 great perseverance, and, at length, found his 
 patience rewarded by the sight of one of those 
 little, paradisiacal valleys often hidden in the 
 bosom of these stony Oases. There the stream, 
 which at his entrance was absorbed by the hot 
 and ever-thirsty sand, came murmuring along with 
 all the transparency and liveliness of a mountain 
 rivulet; and, while all the tops of the eminences 
 around were bare and burning peaks, its banks 
 were brightened with the most green and flowery 
 verdure ; the large white lily, the globe amaranth, 
 and abundance of other plants of the most splendid 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 259 
 
 hues, and of the richest aroma, bending over its 
 margin; the aloe, here and there, spreading out 
 its ample round of dark-green leaves, and lifting 
 up its lofty blossomed stem ; thickets of tamarind, 
 rose-laurel, cotton, and a variety of aromatic 
 shrubs, scattered about between the water and the 
 feet of the dark granite rocks, aloft in whose 
 interstices, the lovely rose of Jericho waved its 
 glowing blooms, and acacias, dates, and various 
 species of palm, cast at once shade and beauty. 
 
 After quenching his thirst, and cooling his feet 
 repeatedly in the stream, he slowly wandered 
 farther up the valley, and soon beheld, to his 
 mortification, that it was terminated by lofty cliifs, 
 down which the brook came scattering loudly its 
 waters. One nook attracted his steps by the 
 luxuriant, dependent foliage of a vast wild vine, 
 and he was about to seat himself beneath it, when 
 he started back on discovering that it concealed 
 the entrance to a gloomy cavern. Instinctively 
 he glanced upon the ground to discern, by foot- 
 marks, what might be the nature of its inhabitants, 
 if any ; and he beheld, not the print of the wild- 
 beast's paw, nor the sandal of man, but that of 
 
260 ITHRAN 
 
 a large naked human foot. He was about to 
 retreat; but, on turning round, his eye fell upon 
 the wildest figure it had ever yet encountered. 
 
 It was that of a tall and slightly-built man, whose 
 only clothing was a long robe of goat and cameFs 
 hair, and whose locks and beard had grown to a 
 wonderful extravagance. He reclined beneath a 
 sycamore tree, on a large fragment of rock ; and, 
 observing more closely, the youth was struck with 
 signs of sickness and exhaustion. His heart, at 
 the view, lost at once its fear ; he saw only before 
 him an object of distress ; — he advanced, and 
 spoke. 
 
 The stranger lifted up his eyes, with a vague 
 wildness for a moment; then, closing them again, 
 the tears gushed silently down his cheeks. He 
 was silent; but it was evidently the silence of 
 emotion. At length, lifting up his hands, he 
 grasped that of the youth fervently, and made 
 signs for him to sit down. He obeyed, — but the 
 stranger still continuing silent, he asked if he 
 could render him any service. He replied, with 
 a melancholy emphasis, " Thou mayest ! but start 
 not when thou knowest for whom. Knowest thou 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 261 
 
 for whom thou art interested ? Knowest thou the 
 " Demon of the Desert?" At that dreadful name 
 the youth started to his feet with a shuddering 
 groan ; but he was rivetted to the spot, — and the 
 stranger cried imploringly, " Nay ! — fly not, fear 
 not, my son ! The time -has been, when thy 
 visit hither would have been death ; but that time 
 is past — I am not what I was. — I am dying. At 
 this moment, the presence of a human soul is 
 precious to me. Thou canst hear me — thou canst 
 bury me." 
 
 The eyes of the youth attested the truth of what 
 his fearful companion declared ; and with a strange 
 mixture of awe, curiosity, and sympathy, he lis- 
 tened to the following narrative. 
 
 " I am not what thy countrymen have deemed 
 me — I am not originally, and altogether, a demon; 
 but Ithran, an outcast of Israel. It is not entirely 
 unknown to the nations among whom that people 
 has now so long sojourned, that, although their 
 dreadful God has kept them wholly by his might, 
 making nature bend its ancient laws to their 
 use, and surrounding them with terror as with 
 a wall, they have been but imperfectly sensible 
 
262 ITHRAN 
 
 of the glory of their lot, and have often pro- 
 voked the Lord to anger. But it has been, 
 in these latter years, that this spirit of unbelief 
 and ingratitude has grown to the most marvellous 
 height. In vain were the overwhelming terrors 
 of God displayed on the Mount ; — in vain did 
 blazing serpents spread death; and the burning 
 bolts of Divine vengeance burst suddenly upon 
 the heads of the rebellious, in ruin; in vain was 
 the beautiful and majestic Miriam, who went out 
 dancing before the virgins of Israel, and singing 
 that triumphant song of victory over Pharaoh, 
 cast, a leprous object, out of the camp before 
 their eyes ; — since their abode in Kadesh, the spirit 
 of wickedness was become monstrous. God had 
 refused to go up before them to the Promised 
 Land ; the Amalekites had discomfited them, and 
 they were full of despondency. Add to this, 
 famine was in the camp. Except the manna and 
 the quails, food now universally loathed, there was 
 nothing. The stock of cattle was exhausted ; and 
 the desert seemed to become, every day more 
 fierce and inhospitable. 
 
 " But the day of Annual Expiation was at hand ; 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 263 
 
 and hope awoke in all hearts. God had appointed, 
 in his mercy, a way to free Israel from its sins. 
 He had empowered the High Priest to lay all 
 crimes on the head of a goat, which should bear 
 them away into the wilderness. The day arrived ; 
 — all Israel was assembled before the sanctuary ; 
 — a breathless anxiety prevailed; — the various 
 offerings were made ; — the devoted goat was 
 brought forth ; the mysterious words which charged 
 it with the whole sin of Israel, were pronounced ; 
 and a weight, and a gloom, seemed to pass from 
 the hearts of the people. It only remained to 
 send the goat away, by the hand of a Jit man. 
 And now a fearful and eager curiosity ran through 
 the multitude, to know who this man should be. 
 It was an important trust. The two victim-goats 
 had been procured with much difficulty, — such 
 was our poverty ; and they had been guarded with 
 much care, for such was the wickedness of the 
 time, that some sons of Belial had attempted to 
 break in, and carry them off; and it was expected 
 that they would lie in wait to kill the scape-goat in 
 the wilderness. I was a prophet, and the son of a 
 prophet ; and young as I was, my zeal in the cause 
 
264 ITHRAN 
 
 of God, and of Moses, had given me great favour 
 in the eyes of the elders. — I was chosen as the 
 Jit man. 
 
 " It was deemed necessary that I should go 
 two days' journey into the wilderness. A great 
 number of the most illustrious of the Hebrew 
 youth accompanied me till the sun began to 
 decline; then, with many blessings, I went on 
 alone. As I saw the friendly band retracing 
 their steps, a sensation of pride, such as I never 
 felt before, arose in my heart, that I should be 
 deemed most worthy of this most momentous 
 trust. I marched lightly on ; — the sun went 
 down ; — all night I pursued my way, unceasingly ; 
 so strongly did that exaltation of spirit bear me 
 on. I never thought of food or sleep, till the 
 next day as the sun became hot, when I sought 
 the shade of a rock for rest and refreshment. 
 When I looked for my scrip, it was gone ; — 
 during this state of self-gratulating excitement, 
 it had slipped off, unperceived. I was stung with 
 a sudden and unreasonable anger ; and rising up, 
 I smote the goat, and went on. The craving of 
 hunger — the torture of thirst — the «ense of my 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 265 
 
 loss, the consciousness that several days must 
 elapse before I should regain x the camp, angered 
 and appalled me. My frame was already debili- 
 tated and rendered irritable, by the effects of the 
 famine, and of the strict fast preparatory to the 
 day of expiation : in vain I all day looked out for 
 water, for a wild fig, a date, a melon ; — there was 
 nothing around me but burning sand. The goat, 
 as well as myself, appeared exhausted. We went 
 on and on ; —the day seemed as though it would 
 never end ; and, to add to my anguish, the ground 
 was now everywhere covered with a prickly plant, 
 which lacerated my feet, and filled them with its 
 spines. A suggestion arose in me, to return ; but 
 my pride instantly rejected it; and again I smote 
 the goat, and we sped forward with increased 
 exertion. The sun at length did set ; and, to my 
 joy, I saw some rocks before me : — but there was 
 neither tree, nor herb, nor water. I tied the goat 
 to a stone, and flung myself down in despair 
 beneath the rocks. But if my body was spent, 
 my mind was full of a bitter activity. A thousand 
 troublous and depressing thoughts passed through 
 me ; the sense of my loss preyed on me ; the vast 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 ITHRAN 
 
 distance I imagined myself from men, terrified 
 me ; the goat lay and slept quietly before me. 
 At that sight my perturbation was aggravated 
 tenfold. It could forget its pains ; but I, who 
 suifered on its account, might not. I cursed the 
 foolish pride which led me to undertake the enter- 
 prise. At this moment a thought arose — kill and 
 eat. The horrible idea struck me like a thunder- 
 clap ; — I started up, and walked hastily away to 
 escape from it; but it pursued me, and to evade 
 it by action, I loosed the goat, and endeavoured 
 to drive it away. But it was too much fatigued ; 
 it sank again on the ground. I had now, however, 
 fulfilled my mission — I might return ; but the view 
 of the dreary boundlessness of the desert depressed 
 my heart : — I despaired of ever recrossing it, and, 
 with a fond fatality, lingered near the goat. I 
 endeavoured to fill my mind with a vivid sense of 
 the enormity of the suggested crime ; but, in spite 
 of myself, my sense of the guilt grew less, and 
 less, and my appetite became furious. ' What 
 avails ! ' I exclaimed, ' at the price of my own 
 existence, to spare a life which must soon be ter- , 
 minated ! ' and drawing the knife from my girdle. 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 267 
 
 I rushed on the goat, and plunged it into its neck. 
 The blood spouted freely ; I thought not of Moses 
 or his laws ; to me it was the stream of life — and 
 pressing my parched lips to the wound, 1 drank 
 with ravenous avidity. I was instantly seized with 
 a delirious joy. I waited not for the life to 
 depart ; but kneeling down, I feasted on the flesh. 
 A spirit of triumphant intoxication, a whirl of 
 extravagant transport possessed me ; — my vigour 
 seemed restored tenfold ; — I sat and laughed over 
 my victim. But the wickedness of thousands, — 
 the inspiration and madness of all crime and 
 outrage, had passed into me from the dedicated 
 animal, and I rushed away in its strength. 
 
 " At length I fell, and slept — I know not how 
 long ; but when I awoke the intoxication was past, 
 and the darkness and despair of inexpiable guilt 
 was upon me. The depth of my fall — its utterness 
 — its hopelessness — my eternal separation from the 
 house of Israel,— all rushed upon my soul, and 
 my first impulse was that of self-destruction. For 
 this purpose I arose and sought for the place of my 
 crime ; for there were left the knife, and the cord 
 which had bound the goat. The spot I found; 
 
268 ITHRAN 
 
 but they and the remains of the animal were gone. 
 The demoniac spirit which possessed me, now 
 boiled up in furious anger. Now it was evident 
 man was near — he had robbed me of my prey ; 
 and my murderous passion turned from myself 
 upon him. 
 
 A fierce and malignant desire of human destruc- 
 tion fastened upon me; I stalked along with the 
 ravenous heart of a beast of prey; and it was 
 not long before I descried at the foot of a rocky 
 range, a small Ishmaelitish encampment. Like 
 the tiger, I lurked in the crevices of the crags till 
 nightfall ; and when I deemed sleep was upon 
 the inhabitants, I rushed into the nearest tent. 
 But the inmates were awake ; at the sight of my 
 wild visage, they fled shrieking ; the alarm was 
 communicated to the neighbouring tents, and I 
 soon found myself in solitary possession of them 
 all. At the sight of their soft couches, and various 
 comforts, I was seized with envy and hatred in- 
 tolerable. My first impulse was to set fire to the 
 whole ; but the wealth, the gold, the pearls, the 
 ricli robes, — treasures of these merchants, caught 
 my eye, and a grasping avarice instantly took hold 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 269 
 
 of me. Thoughtless of danger — forgetting, for 
 the time, my thirst after human life, — I imme- 
 diately set about digging a pit at the foot of a 
 rock to bury a kingly spoil, when the people re- 
 covering from their surprise, returned. At the 
 sight of their numbers I fled — fled upwards to the 
 rocks. They pursued me, accustomed as they 
 were to follow the wild goat and the chamois: — 
 but I too had, from my youth, scaled the cliffs of 
 the desert ; and now a spell was on me which gave 
 me supernatural power and speed, that annihilated 
 all fear : — they pursued me in vain. I leaped from 
 point to point, I swung by the pliant tree from 
 ledge to ledge, and was gone. From that hour 
 the terrors of my name spread through the wil- 
 derness — a thousand marvellous acts were at- 
 tributed to me round the evening fires, and 1 
 became known as the " Demon of the Desert.'' 
 For months I ranged from place to place, driven 
 by the unquenchable spirit of the murderer, but 
 unable to gratify my fiendish desires. My fame 
 went before me, and I found myself for ever in 
 solitude. 
 
 " Exasperated with fruitless endeavours, my 
 
270 ITHRAN 
 
 wrath turned from man to God : I became filled, 
 at once, with a spirit of blasphemy and of idolatrous 
 fear. I knelt to the sun at his rising, and kissed 
 my hand to the moon and stars nightly ; — to the 
 Great Being who made them, I was full of hatred 
 and defiance. In the vehemence of my impious 
 rage, 1 traversed the deserts, and climbed by night 
 to the lonely summits of Horeb and Sinai. There 
 no longer rested the dark and threatening clouds ; 
 no thunders shook the hills to their foundations ; 
 above, the clear sky, and the myriad stars shone 
 silently, — around, all was one waste sea of bare 
 and splintered peaks. It is awful to think of the 
 madness of impiety which there possessed me. 
 I defied the Eternal on the very mountain of his 
 power; and called on him, if he lived, to reveal 
 himself once more in his thunders ! I listened, — 
 but a vast silence was around; the breeze only 
 sighed carelessly on its way, as in mockery of my 
 insignificance. I descended — my heart devoured 
 with the most venomous feelings against God, and 
 against Moses, whom I cursed as a juggling 
 impostor. 
 
 " But if the sacred hills were quiet, not so was 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 271 
 
 the earth beneath them. A sound of rushing 
 wings swept by me ; dark whispers were in my 
 ears; shadowy shapes went to and fro, turning 
 upon me their eyes gleaming with strange fires; 
 and dusky forms arose out of the very ground 
 before me. I had dared to challenge God; but 
 I shrunk trembling from these dismal spirits ! I 
 fled to my cave for refuge ; but where is the 
 refuge for him who has surrendered the guardian- 
 ship of the Author of Nature ? Thunders shook 
 the rocks over my head ; crags fell crashing and 
 echoing into the dell below; lightnings gleamed 
 through the more than midnight darkness of my 
 stronghold ; and finally, a purple light issuing from 
 the wall of solid granite, preceded the terrible 
 Gods of the heathen, who passed slowly athwart 
 the cavern. They gazed silently upon me, but 
 spoke not ; as if their only purpose were to receive 
 my homage. I beheld the colossal majesty of 
 Baal; the imperial form, and lofty, yet smiling 
 countenance of Ashtaroth, the queen of heaven 
 — diademed with the horned moon, and a con- 
 stellation of intensely beaming stars floating around 
 her. Her steps were followed by the soft, volup- 
 
•272 ITHRAN 
 
 tiious figure of Semel, the queen of love ; and by 
 Pibeseth, the blushing and shame-faced goddess, 
 with her eyes on the ground. Then came the 
 hideous Dagon rolling on his fishy rear ; followed 
 by the aged and stony-featured Chiun; the stern 
 and savage gloom of Moloch, enveloped in the 
 furnace-glow of his own flames ; and lastly, 
 Nehushtan, the haughty serpent, walking rather 
 than gliding on his undulating volumes; lifting 
 aloft his crowned head and human countenance; 
 and clad in vivid scales, of scarlet, blue, and 
 yellow, from beneath which streamed the radiance 
 of internal fires. They passed ; but I was not the 
 more alone. The bottom of the cave swarmed 
 with the pigmy forms of the Gemedim ; and from 
 every nook and chink of wall and roof, gleamed 
 down the green eyes and goatish visages of the 
 Shoirim, grotesque but hideous. 
 
 " The idolatrous passion was extinguished. It 
 was impossible to worship these fearful things; — it 
 was terrible to be conscious of their presence. 
 This vision rekindled my longing after human 
 society, and human sympathies; but where were 
 they to be found ? Far around I was to the inha- 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 273 
 
 bitants what these beings were to me. I deter- 
 mined, therefore, to abandon the deserts ; and 
 travelling on, from night to night, I, at length 
 found myself in a cultivated land, and at the gates 
 of a city of stupendous walls and towers. It was 
 
 r 
 
 Argob, the city of Og ; — who has not heard of that 
 
 last of the Anakims, and of his great bedstead of 
 
 iron? I was surrounded by a band of fierce, 
 
 shaggy, and monstrous men, who led me into his 
 
 presence. He sate on a massy bench, beneath a 
 
 sycamore, at the gate of his ponderous palace, and 
 
 his sons, and his old warriors, a race of giants, 
 
 stood around. I was overwhelmed, for a moment, 
 
 by the sight of so huge and terrible a being; tall 
 
 as I am, I reached not to his girdle. Hopeless of 
 
 life — careless of death, which to me could not be 
 
 worse than life itself, — 1 avowed myself a prophet 
 
 of Israel. A lying and cunning spirit was upon me. 
 
 I declared that I fled from the despotism of Moses, 
 
 and would rather receive death at the hands of the 
 
 king, than live in those of the tyrant of my people. 
 
 The spirit of delusion seized the giant-monarch. 
 
 The nations of the Anakims had fallen around him 
 
 beneath the arms of the Israelites; he awaited daily 
 
 n3 
 
•274 ITHRAN 
 
 his own trial, and he grasped at the intelligence I 
 might give, as a saving branch in the moment of 
 his fall. I was received with favour and honour. 
 I encouraged him — feigned to reveal to him the 
 secret of the Hebrew strength, and assured him of 
 victory. Kindled by my words, he determined not 
 to expect, but to pour forth on his enemies. At 
 once the whole land was in motion like a swarm of 
 hornets. The din of arms, the tumult of proces- 
 sions and sacrifices, filled it from end to end. The 
 giant sons of the king, like inflamed demons, flew 
 from place to place ; — the almost equally gigantic 
 daughters, creatures of a fierce and superhuman 
 beauty and stature, their proud necks loaded with 
 strings of pearls, their hair flowing on their 
 shoulders, glittering with gold and jewels, their 
 arms and ancles bound with massy clasps of gold, 
 and tinkling bells of silver, excited to madness the 
 priests by their kindled charms, and their presents 
 of embroidered hangings for the tabernacles of 
 their polluted groves. Dreadful was the rage 
 which boiled through the sanguinary multitudes — 
 dreadful were the cries of human victims — thrilling 
 the shrieks of tender infants cast into the flaming 
 furnaces of Adrammelec. 
 
' THE DEMONIAC. 275 
 
 " But in the midst of this tumultuous scene of 
 guilt and terror, one beautiful and serene object 
 shone like a solitary star upon a tempestuous ocean. 
 It was the youngest daughter of the king, the 
 daughter of a captive descendant of Esau. Of the 
 ordinary stature of humanity, the richness of her 
 beauty, and the gentleness of her spirit, presented 
 only the image of her deceased mother. She was 
 fair as the lily of the valley, but her eyes and flow- 
 ing locks were dark as night. She had heard of 
 the true God, and of his dealings with her ances- 
 tors, from her mother, in childhood; she looked on 
 the savage natures of those with whom she dwelt, 
 with horror and detestation ; and my words roused 
 in her soul the most intense and anxious interest. 
 While all others were absorbed in the preparations 
 for war, from day to day, she besought me with 
 questions. In her presence my former tone of 
 mind, my former happiness, seemed to return ; a 
 spirit of sacred inspiration was even permitted to 
 me ; and I displayed, with glowing enthusiasm, the 
 true history of man — the dispensations of God to 
 Israel — the speedy and utter annihilation of this 
 people. When I ceased, I beheld her kneeling 
 
276 ITHRAN 
 
 upon the ground, her lovely face turned with a 
 sublime and adoring expression towards heaven. 
 She arose. ' I fear not to die/ she meekly said, 
 'but I fain would not die in the midst of this 
 idolatrous people. Oh ! that I was but the lowest 
 handmaid in the tents of my mother's kindred ! ' 
 
 " Already deeply affected by her beauty, I was 
 now aroused by her devotion. ' Fly,' I exclaimed. 
 ' I know the deserts, and vow to become thy faith- 
 ful conductor.' 
 
 "With much entreaty I prevailed; — but when 
 I counselled her to bear away the teraphim of the 
 king, she paused ; her pure soul shrank from any- 
 thing like theft; and those golden and jewelled 
 teraphim, worth almost half his kingdom, — those 
 household gods from which, morn and evening, he 
 invoked prosperity, — it was too much. But my 
 zeal — my character of a prophet — my solemn 
 representations that it was a testimony against 
 idolatry demanded by God, shook her spirit — she 
 struggled long, but gave way. In a thicket, not 
 far from the city, T concealed two swift drome- 
 daries. At night, I awaited her at the foot of a 
 tower upon the wall, whence, with the teraphim, 
 
THE DEMONIAC. 277 
 
 she descended in a basket. We had already- 
 reached the thicket, when her giant-brothers sprang 
 forth with dreadful yells. I beheld her in their 
 grasp — I heard her cries — I saw the sword red 
 with her blood : resistance was vain — I fled ! 
 Darkness and my destiny favoured my flight ; but 
 the blood of that fair and gentle creature lay on 
 my soul like fire. Remorse — pity — love — drove 
 me on in desperation, I knew not whither. At 
 length I was stopped by a range of rocks ; I 
 climbed to their top, and sate down in a state of 
 dreamy torpor. From that height I beheld the 
 armies of Israel in march; I saw the host of the 
 Anakims come down like a foaming sea; anon, 
 they were scattered like mist, and the Israelites 
 pursued, slaying to the bounds of the vast horizon. 
 I followed, and in a few days beheld all that mon- 
 strous nation utterly destroyed, and walked amongst 
 the smoking ashes of their groves and idol-temples. 
 "But I saw a thing there more hateful than 
 even the Anakims. I saw the Israelites dwelling 
 at peace in the cities and in the fertile fields — in a 
 plenteous possession, from which I was cut off" for 
 ever. I retired from the intolerable spectacle once 
 
278 ITHRAN 
 
 more to the desert. The tempestuous energy of 
 those passions, which had successively visited me, 
 seemed now exhausted. I was feeble and faint as 
 a child ; yet a burning envy consumed my heart, of 
 the blessings of my brethren, and a malignant 
 cruelty towards the weak and defenceless possessed 
 me. I trod with vindictive malice on the beetle 
 that crawled on the sand before me ; and when the 
 lizard ran up the sunny rock, and looked cheerfully 
 in my face, I took up a stone and crushed it. 
 Even this petty force of evil departed, and I was 
 left a powerless prey to remorse — to a vain longing 
 after reunion with my people — to overwhelming 
 terrors — terrors of God, of death, and of the powers 
 of darkness. 
 
 " Oh, praise ! boundless praise to Him, who, at 
 length, drew back the arm of his wrath, and for- 
 gave. I lay at the mouth of this cave — I know 
 not whether awake or in sleep, but I saw before 
 me two angelic beings; and, by a closer contem- 
 plation of them, I recognized my parents. I heard 
 my mother, as if addressing my father, say, — 
 ' How long have we interceded for our unhappy 
 son, that he .might be made a partaker of the 
 
THE DE3I0NIAC. 279 
 
 annual benefit of the scape-goat, and, at length, it 
 is granted. His latter career of crime has been 
 but the career of a maniac — his real crime was the 
 breach of his sacred trust — he has suiFered as no 
 man ever yet did, and he is forgiven.' She scat- 
 tered upon me drops, as of water, from a crystal 
 vase, and a thrill of joy — a warm sensation of 
 human love and tenderness, and hope, gushed upon 
 my soul — tears came into my eyes, and I lay as in 
 a soothing trance. During the space of a moon I 
 have continued tranquil, breathing an atmosphere 
 of love, and full of adoration. But I am now 
 spent ; and the last good gift of God is this — that 
 he has sent thee to learn this awful lesson of un- 
 faithful pride, and to save the bones of his repen- 
 tant servant from the desert beast." 
 
 Before the sun had risen on the morrow, the 
 youth had buried the prophet in his cave, and 
 returned to his tribe with a story destined to carry 
 down fear and wonder to countless generations. 
 
BEELTUTHMA, 
 
 THE DESOLATE AND THE FAITHFUL. 
 
BEELTUTHMA, 
 
 THE DESOLATE AND THE FAITHFUL. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Evening was closing over the wilderness of Judah, 
 as a solitary female approached a tower which she 
 had seen far across the plains. She was wrapped 
 in a long cloak, and closely veiled in the eastern 
 manner, leaving only her eyes visible. Her garb 
 was of the hue and fashion worn by the peasant 
 girls of the country; she seemed to walk wearily, 
 yet with an air of grace, that combined with her 
 tall, slender figure, would have anywhere turned 
 upon her the glance of curious observation. The 
 building she discerned, as she approached, to be of 
 recent erection, and to have the aspect of the dwell- 
 ing of some powerful chief. It was built of red 
 stone; not very lofty, but of a great extent. It 
 appeared to consist of a quadrangular range en- 
 closing a spacious court, in the centre of which rose 
 
284 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 a massy, circular tower of a height which consider- 
 ably overlooked all the external erection. In the 
 centre of every fa9ade of the outer range appeared 
 a large gateway, of plain, but beautifully executed 
 workmanship; and every corner was defended by 
 a ponderous turret. The walls, instead of being 
 perpendicular, stretched out their feet to the plain 
 like the sides of a tent, indicating, with bastions and 
 buttresses of great bulk, the extraordinary strength 
 of the place. It was again enclosed on all sides, at 
 the distance of a furlong, by twelve towers, from 
 one to the other of which ran a lofty battlemented 
 wall, which was again rendered more difficult of 
 access by a deep ditch. 
 
 The strange female stood and gazed for some 
 time upon this place of solitary strength, as if half 
 doubtful that it would admit one so lowly as her- 
 self; or, as if contemplating with wonder the simple 
 beauty of its construction ; for beautiful it was, 
 not through abundance of ornament, for it was 
 wrought in the plainest style, but through the pro- 
 portion of the whole, and the clear and bold finish 
 of every part. The large, round mouldings of its 
 gateways; the j)rojecting battlements, resting on a 
 
beeLtuthma. 285 
 
 heavy, swelling cornice ; the whole surface of its 
 ruddy walls, marked with its small, dark lines of 
 joints; every portion was so boldly and perfectly 
 finished, that the eye delighted to rest upon it. 
 The clearness of every part made it like a new and 
 admirable picture, — not a stain of the elements yet 
 had touched it, and its strength seemed calculated 
 to battle with them for a thousand years. 
 
 As the woman, however, ceased to gaze upon it, 
 she advanced to the gate of the circumvallation, 
 and it opened to her without any visible agencv. 
 She moved onward across the green belt of the 
 surrounding land, to the opposite gateway of the 
 building. She struck on the door with the iron 
 mace which hung by it in its iron chain, and the 
 porter putting forth his head through a small, sliding 
 aperture, demanded who was there, and on what 
 errand. The stranger, in a soft and melancholy 
 voice, craved the hospitality of the night. A small 
 door was thrown open, and she entered. There, 
 in the centre of the court, she was again struck 
 with the aspect of the majestic tower, and with the 
 various groups which met her eye. In one place 
 men were busy rubbing down their steeds, which 
 
286 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 stood tied up to the wall, with smoking sides, as 
 though they had just come in from some hasty 
 travel ; others were seated polishing their armour ; 
 while women, sitting opposite, or moving from one 
 to another, were chatting in idle merriment. Child- 
 ren were playing here and there, and several large 
 dogs paced heavily about, or lay and slept. It had 
 all the air of a place of military strength, but she 
 had little leisure to observe it: a man descended 
 from a neighbouring stair, and bade her follow. He 
 returned the way he came ; and ascending after him, 
 she soon found herself on the roof, in the presence 
 of one whose air proclaimed him the lord of the 
 abode. He was seated on a stone-seat near the 
 battlement, where he could command, in the day, 
 the view of the whole wilderness; and, although 
 the shades of night were fast gathering on its brown 
 bosom, he appeared still to have his eye fized on 
 the gloomy distance ; but as she approached, and 
 knelt distantly and with an air of profound respect, 
 he turned slowly upon her his gaze in silence. He 
 was a man of a large and iron frame, as if made en- 
 tirely of bone and muscle ; and although apparently 
 in the prime of life, his short black hair was grizzled 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 287 
 
 as that of a warrior whose helm has pressed heavily 
 and long on his brow. His features were bold, 
 hard, and stern; they looked as though they had 
 been accustomed to face the blasts of battle, and of 
 the elements; his beard curled short and black 
 around his chin ; his lips were moulded as by the 
 long habit of uttering high and absolute command ; 
 there was no trace of softness breaking down their 
 stern decision, and betraying the occasional preva- 
 lence of tender feelings ; and his eye flashed with a 
 quick, dark glance, that denoted a prompt concep- 
 tion of his duty, and the most immoveable firmness 
 of purpose. 
 
 " Who art thou ? " said the stern chief, laying 
 the accent on the last word. The stranger woman 
 bowed her face reverently to the floor, and replied, 
 " a weary wayfarer, who seeks only at the hand of 
 my lord, protection for the night." 
 
 " And whence ?" said the same stern voice. 
 
 " From a far abode. Thine handmaid is not of 
 the daughters of Israel." 
 
 " Let me see thy face," said the chief, his coun- 
 tenance moving not a muscle ; yet touched with a 
 deep shade of earnestness, as she declared herself 
 an alien. 
 
288 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 She removed the veil, and displayed a counte- 
 nance of singular beauty, forming a wondrous 
 contrast with that of her investigator, not more by 
 its loveliness, than by the dove-like meekness and 
 deep tenderness of its expression. Awe and weari- 
 ness were traced on every feature; but through these 
 the strength of her native character shone inextin- 
 guishably, — and it was that of a being born to a 
 bright sphere of existence, and whose soul had 
 grown up amid loving hearts, itself a full, over- 
 flowing fountain of rich affections. That fair and 
 gentle aspect, and the soft, touching tones which 
 she uttered, might have soothed the fiercest of the 
 giants of old ; but in the man before her, an 
 expression of surprise only exhibited itself, as 
 he instantly said, — " Oh ! a woman of Ammon, 
 and of the princely race ! And wherefore," he 
 added, his countenance gathering a deep gloom, 
 " art thou wandering in Israel ? Art thou seeking 
 to flee from thy captivity ?" 
 
 " No ! my lord ! no ! replied the fair woman, 
 fixing her eyes on the floor, and evidently strug- 
 gling with a strong emotion, that nearly over- 
 powered her musical but melancholy voice — " no, 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 289 
 
 my lord ! amid all the calamities that I have been 
 made to share with my unhappy country, that of 
 -captivity has not been yet added. I have seen the 
 enemies of Israel lay waste my country ; I have 
 seen her sons fall before them; I have walked 
 amid the silence and the ashes of those cities, 
 where I once danced and sung with the glad 
 daughters of my people, — and those people were 
 destroyed, those daughters gone into captivity, and 
 I remained free and alone ! Like the owl, I hid 
 myself but too well in the day of terror, and came 
 out only to wander and weep in the night of 
 desolation. My feet were scorched with the yet 
 glowing ashes of my native city — of my father's 
 house — of the houses of my kindred ; but I felt it 
 not, for my heart was deadened within me. I 
 called aloud the names of those dear as my own 
 soul; and when I listened, I heard but the groans 
 of some dying wretch. I ran on, to discover some 
 surviving remnant of my race ; but I saw only 
 bones calcined by the fire, and walls blackened by 
 it. The burning beams of shattered palaces fell 
 threatening to destroy me, and filled the dismal 
 halls with awful thunders, and with streams of stars 
 
 VOL. I. o > 
 
290 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 that mounted towards the heavens, as with an 
 indignant beauty. Wherever I turned,- 1 beheld 
 afar, vast abodes filled with flame, in which spirits 
 of darkness seemed to pass to and fro ; and the 
 hollow, rushing roar of fire, rolling its forked 
 volumes on the wind, filled my being with a horri- 
 ble sense of a vast and universal desolation. I fled 
 from the terrific scene, and would have quenched 
 my thirst at the fountain of the suburbs ; but it 
 was choked with blood. I ran forward to the 
 plains, and I traced the flight of my miserable 
 people by the bodies of their dead, that blackened 
 in the burning wilderness sand. Oh, mighty chief ! 
 my heart yearned after the captives; for with them 
 was life, albeit bound up with sorrow, and love 
 which, although embittered with bondage and scorn, 
 was better than this terrible solitude. I have 
 dared to follow them even into the land of our 
 foes ; and many have I seen, and have sate down 
 and eaten my morsel with them in the tears of 
 bitterness. But what shall satisfy the heart of a 
 daughter ? What shall stay the feet of a wife ? 
 I seek from day to day my father and my husband; 
 and let it not, my lord, off'end thee. I am told 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 291 
 
 that they live, and probably in this land ; and all 
 I ask is, to share with them their lot, be it mean 
 and miserable as it may. Let me then, I pray 
 thee, rest under the shadow of thy walls for the 
 night, and in the morning I will go onward." 
 
 The chieftain continued during thig* piteous 
 appeal, apparently as unmoved as the stone on 
 which he sate ; and as the fair, weeping suppliant 
 concluded, he demanded, — "and what manner of 
 man was thy father ? and what device bore he in 
 the field of battle?" 
 
 " He was a tall, robust man," she replied, " on 
 whom age sate, but could not bend him, though his 
 hair was white as snow; and on his crest and in 
 his shield, he bore a flying serpent." 
 
 " And kept he not the tower of Dodekel ?" 
 " He did ! Thou hast seen him. Oh, my lord? 
 by thy dreadful god, hide not his fate from thy 
 handmaid ! " 
 
 " And thy husband, what device bore he ? " 
 " In his shield he carried a bounding ibex, for 
 he was accustomed to leap the hills as a hunter ; on 
 his crest stooped an eagle; for like an eagle, he 
 stooped on his foes in war." 
 
!29'2 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 "Led lie not the careering horsemen to the 
 battle ? Those horsemen that swept to and fro 
 like the desert blast, as swift as it, and as deadly?" 
 
 " He did ! he did ! " 
 
 " Methinks," said the warrior with a fearful 
 smile," I can tell thee somewhat of thy kinsmen." 
 
 He clapped his hands, and one of his followers 
 shewed his head above the stairs. " Have this wo- 
 man," he said, " to a chamber for the night; see that 
 her wants are ministered to, and let a steed be ready 
 for her at the dawn of day." The fair stranger bowed 
 her face to the floor, and thanked the chief with 
 her lips, but her soul was full of a strange mingling 
 of hope and dreadful apprehension, as she heard 
 his words and saw his awful smile. She arose and 
 followed with trembling steps, and a more trem- 
 bling heart, to her chamber. 
 
 When Beeltuthma, for such was the name of the 
 unhappy woman, found herself alone, she glanced 
 round her small chamber, and beheld a bed, and on 
 a small table, food and wine, and pure water to 
 drink, and water also to wash her weary feet : but 
 the anguish of her soul, notwithstanding her long 
 travel and long fast, made her turn with loathing 
 
BEELTUTHMA. '293 
 
 from the sight of food : she drank of the water, and 
 threw herself on the couch, in the desolate misery 
 of her heart. She had heard, not tidings, but a 
 mere chance of tidings, of the beloved ones whom 
 she sought, and had sought for many painful 
 months through a hostile land, bearing scorn, and 
 suspicion, and rude ferocity of repul»e, and dangers 
 of the most fearful kind to her gentle and pure 
 spirit : she had gone on from place to place, — she 
 who had known till then, but home, love, and wide 
 admiration; who had trod, with golden sandals, 
 the marble pavements of princely abodes, and re- 
 posed on the silken couch of ease and splendour, 
 soothed with the wild music of her native land; 
 she had gone from place to place, now desolate 
 and alone, seeking with a bleeding heart and timid 
 eye, for the sole surviving two of her beloved 
 kindred ; and had everywhere seen the prosperity 
 of a great, hostile kingdom, and heard the songs 
 and music of triumph over her own fallen and 
 beloved country ; had everywhere seen her coun- 
 trymen and countrywomen wearing the yoke of 
 the haughty stranger, and doing his menial offices 
 in dumb despair, and weeping in secret over the 
 
294 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 destruction of Ammon. This she had past through, 
 and now she caught a feeble glimpse of hope, that 
 she was on the way to learn the fate of her rela- 
 tives ; but it was from such a man, and in such a 
 manner, as made that glimpse like a fearful vision 
 to her mind. M^ere they living? Were they 
 dead ? Wer» they in the very power of this 
 chief? Perhaps their proud hands were employed 
 in some sordid task, or their necks were heavy with 
 the chains of his dungeon. Such were the ques- 
 tions that ran through her bosom, and imagination 
 replied with a thousand horrors. But exhausted 
 nature at length closed her eyes in sleep, and she 
 was only awaked by the shrill blast of a trumpet, 
 which startled her like the piercing of a sword ; — 
 she arose, and itjwas morning. The light of day 
 streamed in through the narrow opening in the 
 ponderous walls of her chamber; and glancing 
 through it, she saw the brown wilderness stretching 
 far, dark with the hues of autumn. She saw flocks 
 and herds already driven from the folds, and 
 spreading themselves over the distant plains, fol- 
 lowed by their keepers with an air of peacefulness, 
 that made her sigh over the remembrance of her 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 295 
 
 own desolated country. She saw various rustic 
 dwellings scattered amongst the trees on the plains, 
 shewing that the chief into whose hands she had 
 fallen, was living a powerful lord in a great and 
 wealthy domain. But she was recalled from her 
 observations, by the entrance of a woman bringing 
 a morning meal, and bidding her hasten to attend 
 the chief. "^Vith a hurried hand she assumed her 
 cloak and veil, which alone she had thrown off, 
 and snatching a hasty repast, turned to descend. 
 The woman led the way to the bottom of the 
 stairs which opened into the inner court; where 
 two armed men with drawn swords stood waiting, 
 and instantly placed her upon a steed, and led her 
 to the gate. When it was flung open, she started 
 to behold a band of foot soldiers, of not less than 
 five hundred, drawn up and ready to march ; — their 
 erect spears, and shields slung upon their backs, 
 glittering in the rays of the morning sun. Her 
 two guards mounted on steeds, and taking their 
 stations, one on each side of her, — ^the trumpet 
 spoke, and the band moved forward. She glanced 
 along the marching troop in wonder at what this 
 might mean, and beheld at their head a warrior 
 
•296 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 mounted on his strong war-horse, whom she in- 
 stantly recognized by his size and port, to be the 
 chief she had seen over night. His burnished 
 helm flashed in the sunlight as he moved, and its 
 plumes played proudly in the fresh autumnal 
 breeze. A light corslet of imbricated steel, over 
 which was tied by a broad belt, his heavy sword ; 
 short skirts of embroidered work, and buskins 
 fastened half-way up his muscular legs with lion- 
 headed clasps, constituted the sole, simple dress of 
 this stern warrior. His followers were clad only 
 in a plain woollen vest, which left the neck bare 
 and descended to the middle of the thigh, with 
 sandals of the simplest fashion, and were arme^ 
 with a sword and a spear, and defended by a plain, 
 unplumed helm, and a light shield. They were 
 evidently equipped for some service that required 
 fleetness and activity, rather than pitched battle. 
 As they issued from the gate of the outworks, 
 they turned eastward, and a train of laden mules 
 fell into the rear. 
 
 Beeltuthma was full of wonder and inward dread. 
 What was the object of this expedition, it was 
 impossible for her to divine; yet she could not but 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 297 
 
 feel persuaded, that it had some connexion with 
 herself, and her father and husband — Tartak and 
 Lohi. But were they in a condition that required 
 such a force ? In that case, they could not be 
 captives; and if not, where, and in what circum- 
 stances were they ? With such fruitless but 
 disturbing thoughts, she rode on in the rear of the 
 armed troops and between her guard, from hoiir to 
 hour. She could only wonder and be silent, for 
 it was in vain to hope for explanation till time 
 should give it The haughty chief held on his way 
 without once turning his head; the troop went 
 lightly, talking in a low murmur amongst them- 
 selves, but she could not catch a syllable of their 
 discourse ; and her two guards rode on in unbroken 
 silence, with drawn swords, and countenances of 
 such fixed gravity that it was hopeless to attempt 
 to extract from them any knowledge of the object 
 of the march. 
 
 Thus they held on till noon, through the plains 
 of the wilderness, varied only by occasional flocks 
 of sheep and goats, or herds of cattle ; by clumps 
 of trees ; — thickets in the many-coloured leaves of 
 autumn ; by the waving of the red fern ; by a 
 o3 
 
•298 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 solitary palm ; by slowly-pacing shepherds and 
 herdsmen ; or by small patches of green cultiva- 
 tion, with their huts and people. At noon they 
 reached a considerable lake, — the word was given 
 to halt; the whole band speedily ranged itself on 
 the margin of the water ; food was produced from 
 the stores in the rear ; they ate, and drank of the 
 lake ; and stretching themselves on the sward, lay 
 talking in that almost boyish gaiety of spirit, which 
 in all countries and ages, characterises soldiers in 
 such circumstances. The tone of mind of these 
 light-hearted and thoughtless men, was in strange 
 contrast with that of the silent woman, whose mind 
 was full of the desolation of a kingdom, which she 
 had suddenly seen broken to pieces like a fair 
 dream, and of which she regarded herself one of 
 the few solitary atoms scattered by the winds of 
 ruin into strange lands. At one extremity of the 
 troop, sate this forlorn creature ; at the other, the 
 taciturn chief, who evinced no desire to approach 
 Beeltuthma. 
 
 The trumpet sounded after a short hour of 
 repose, and they resumed their march. They still 
 held eastward till evening, when they halted : tents 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 299 
 
 of a peculiarly light and small description, calcu- 
 lated for hasty flight and easy carriage, which had 
 been borne by the mules, were speedily pitched ; 
 fires lit around the camp to prevent, more than 
 from any other cause, the approach of lions which 
 abounded in this neighbourhood ; and the soldiers, 
 weary with their day's hasty march, soon dispatched 
 their simple supper, and were stretched in sleep. 
 Not a sound was to be heard, but the slow tread of 
 the watchers, pacing from fire to fire. The tent 
 of Beeltuthma was placed in the centre, and two 
 sentinels stationed before it, — cautionary arrange- 
 ments which, like those of the march, were at once 
 equivocal in appearance and convincing in effect : 
 towards a free person, they were attestations of 
 regard and honour, — towards a prisoner, of suspi- 
 cious vigilance. Beeltuthma sadly deemed herself 
 the latter. 
 
300 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Early in the morning they again struck their 
 tents, and were on their way. They soon reached 
 and crossed the ford of the Jordan, and thence bent 
 their course northward. At first they passed 
 through a fertile and delightful region ; but anon, 
 began to ascend long and dreary hills. At noon 
 they halted on a high and naked plain, destitute of 
 tree or bush, and covered only with a dingy yel- 
 low moss. Behind them was the fair region they 
 had left — before them the peaks of distant moun- 
 tains. The captain still preserved the same de- 
 meanour. In the march he rode steadily a-head ; 
 in the halt he sate apart in a stern silence ; and 
 whenever, on their way, people collected to gaze 
 upon them, he M^ould wave his hand with an 
 authoritative motion, and they dispersed and were 
 gone. Beeltuthma marked this circumstance, and 
 felt that she was in the hands of some man mighty 
 in his nation. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 301 
 
 Once more, they arose and went on. . They now- 
 descended again into deep and wide valleys ; pass- 
 ing through dark woods, and winding through 
 dreary morasses overgrown with gale and oleander, 
 and willows, and wild with reeds and rank grass. 
 They skirted the margin of black and deep waters 
 that slumbered dismally in the eternal gloom of 
 matted trees ; and at evening encamped in weary 
 silence, at the feet of the mountains they had seen 
 at noon. With the first peep of dawn they began 
 to ascend the hills, and passed through narrow de- 
 files belted with dark pines, that were seen as they 
 ascended, stretching their dreary blackness far and 
 wide along the lower ranges. From these fastnesses 
 they climbed into a still and dreary region. Bare 
 and black rocks, shattered into various forms of wild- 
 ness, reared themselves around them, and waters 
 came with a thundering sound dashing from lofty 
 precipices. As they reached here and there narrow- 
 plains as they ascended, the views they gave them 
 were full of silence and desolation. Naked and 
 dark mountains, the summits of some of which were 
 clad in snow, shewed themselves above on every 
 side. Their way began to grow so steep and diffi- 
 
302 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 cult that the horses were unable to keep their foot- 
 ing. Beeltuthma and the guards were placed on 
 mules, and the horses were left in a cavern by the 
 wayside with a guard. The captain too, dismounted 
 and marched on foot. At noon they halted in a 
 narrow opening between the rocks, and ere they 
 proceeded, scouts w^ere sent on before. It was 
 some hours ere they returned ; and when they came, 
 whatever was the intelligence they brought, the 
 whole troop was carefully removed from off the 
 way by which they had ascended; watches were 
 placed to keep a vigilant look-out, and the whole 
 band stretched themselves on the ground in pro- 
 found silence. It was not till night came that 
 they arose, and with still and cautious steps pur- 
 sued their way. After a slow and most wearisome 
 progress, which appeared to be up an ascent steeper 
 than any by which they had yet advanced, they 
 again turned aside through an opening of the 
 rocks, and with wondrous silence, pitched their 
 tents in what appeared to be a considerable 
 plain. 
 
 Beeltuthma, buried in her tent, and closely 
 guarded by the two sentinels, who walked to and 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 303 
 
 fro before its door, could discern but little of what 
 was going on; but from the nature of the recent 
 proceedings, she had a strong feeling that they 
 were in the immediate vicinity of the object of their 
 expectations, whatever it was; and the persuasion 
 of her soul that it involved the fate of Tartak and 
 Lohi, filled her with an indescribable anxiety. Oh ! 
 was she now near those 1>eloved beings ? and were 
 they the mark of this terrible chief's designs? 
 Powerful as were the patience and gentleness of 
 her character, they could not preserve her in quiet 
 endurance : she threw herself on the ground, and 
 called on the gods of her nation, though they had 
 apparently abandoned the nation itself, to save 
 these sole remaining objects of her affections. She 
 continued to beseech their aid through the night. 
 But through the night all was profound silence. 
 As the morning, however, broke, a wild and fierce 
 shout, whose fearful echo was flung from place to 
 place amongst those desolate rocks, made her start 
 from her place, and rush to the door of her tent. 
 She could see that there was an eager passing to 
 and fro of men, but she could learn no farther ; her 
 guards were at their post, and although moved by 
 
304 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 her keenly excited mind, she asked them the mean- 
 ing of that cry, they gave no answer. All day, 
 however, not merely such wild cries, but sounds as 
 of thunder, or of the falling of rocks and stones, 
 mingled with the groans and shrieks of men, reached 
 the camp; and, from time to time, she caught 
 glimpses of bleeding and shattered men borne past 
 her tent by their fellows. The silence of the camp 
 was now broken by rapid steps running to and fro ; 
 eager words — bursts of fierce exclamation, as of 
 threatening and vengeance. Every face, even 
 those of the sentinels, had assumed an air of strange 
 excitement. It was evident that the troop was 
 engaged in some desperate contest, and was suifer- 
 incr severely. What it might be in those wild 
 mountainous regions, she was at a loss to imagine ; 
 but the fearful conviction, that in it we^e engaged 
 her father and husband, never forsook her. But 
 m.any days this state of things continued. The 
 rushing of troops — the sound as of hammers and 
 battering rams — the dreadful occasional pause of 
 death-like silence — the fresh outbreakings of shouts 
 and yells, and roars as of triumph, carried her mind 
 forcibly back to the siege of her native city, and 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 305 
 
 led her to believe that some such scene must be 
 transacting here. But what city could exist in 
 these desolate mountains? It must be some den, 
 or stronghold to which desperate men had retired, 
 and amongst these must be her kinsmen. The 
 agony of her soul may be imagined. From day to 
 day she knelt at the door of her tent, and implored 
 the guards to unfold to her what was passing, — 
 against whom they were contending, — saying that 
 it could not alter or affect their proceedings, that a 
 poor, weak, and captive woman should know them. 
 The guards were often changed; but one spirit 
 ruled them all, — the spirit of impenetrable silence, 
 a silence that was interrupted alone by heavy 
 groans, that now continually reached her ears from 
 the neighbouring tents, as of many men enduring 
 the utmost agonies of wounds, and mutilated frames. 
 Once she beheld the chieftain pass by, and she 
 recoiled at the dark and desperate ferocity of his 
 countenance. Its expression, stern and terrible in 
 his calmest moments, was now that of a man of 
 fierce and impetuous passions checked in some 
 momentous enterprise, and stung to the very life of 
 his indignant heart, was wound up to the stilly but 
 
306 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 brooding and tempestuous strength of a lion when 
 beset by his enemies, pierced by their arrows, yet 
 retaining within all the vigour of his being, he 
 gathers it gloomily up into his frame for one dread- 
 ful onset. The sight struck her to the earth in a 
 stony horror. Her heart was overwhelmed with a 
 sick and heavy coldness ; and knowing nothing, but 
 imagining a thousand things,' she saw her husband 
 and father cooped in some narrow hold by this 
 terrible man, determined to sell their lives at an 
 awful price, fighting madly and without hope. 
 
 While she sate on the ground in this lamentable 
 state of terror, her guards were changed, and she 
 saw in their place only a fair and gentle youth. 
 Urged by her anxieties, she caught with avidity at 
 this promising occurrence, and flinging herself on 
 her knees just within the opening of her tent, she 
 clasped her hands on her bosom, and with a look of 
 anguish that made the very blood fade from the 
 cheek of the youth as he turned his eye upon her, 
 she implored him by all he loved on earth and 
 feared in heaven, to reveal to her what was passing. 
 The youth paused for a moment, as in doubt what 
 he should do ; then placing his finger on his lips. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 307 
 
 as to impress upon her the necessity of her silence, 
 and looking round with a careful glance, said : — 
 " Fair Ammonitess, I pity thee from my soul. 
 What I say to thee, 1 say at the risk of my life ; — 
 yet I will say it — for thou hast moved me to com- 
 passion; — if thou betray me — God reward thee 
 accordingly. Joab attacks a fortress here, held by 
 thy countrymen Tartak and Lohi, and some of their 
 followers.'' 
 
 As Becltuthma heard these words, her senses 
 failed — and she sank as dead on the ground. The 
 boy beheld the effect of his communication with a 
 momentary glance of deepest pity ; but, checking 
 himself, he assumed a stern calmness of feature, 
 and resumed his walk to and fro with a cool, and 
 apparently careless step. 
 
 The soul of Beeltuthma, however, speedily re- 
 turned, and as she recollected the intelligence she 
 had just received, she inwardly exclaimed, " It is, 
 then, as I suspected ! These dear, dear men are 
 here, beset by their enemies ; and even worse than 
 I deemed, by this most bloody and terrible of 
 human creatures — by the dreadful and invincible 
 Joab ! Oh ! thou dark and stern warrior, before 
 
308 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 whom I have quailed and trembled ; thou, then, art 
 the scourge of my hapless country ! it is thou who 
 hast levelled its cities, laid waste its fields, over- 
 thrown its armies, slain its very maidens — its very 
 babes ; it is into thy awful and irresistible hands 
 that I have fallen ; and that the last living blood of 
 my wasted house shall speedily fall !" 
 
 As she pronounced the last word, she again 
 sprang to the door; and fixing her eye on the pass- 
 ing youth with an expression of unutterable thanks, 
 she softly said, " Oh thou blessed youth, my soul 
 thanks thee from its lowest depths, for thy words, 
 dreadful as they are ; — but more ! canst thou not 
 tell me more?" 
 
 Again the youth glanced round, and seeing all 
 apparently safe, " Let not my weakness encou- 
 rage thee," he said, " to farther speaking. I can 
 tell thee little more. We hoped to surprise the 
 fortress, but failed ; the attempt to force it has 
 been desperately resisted, — the scenes have been 
 
 dreadful; the tower is yet un ." As the word 
 
 was passing from his mouth, an arrow, which came 
 as from the opening in the rocks by which they 
 had entered, pierced his heart; he leaped suddenly. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 309 
 
 from the . ground, and fell dead across the opening 
 of the tent. 
 
 Beeltuthma gave a fearful shriek, and sprang 
 towards the fallen youth, but a strong hand rudely 
 thrust her back : two Hebrews raised the body 
 and bore it away, and two others took the station 
 of guards at the tent door ; walking to and fro, as 
 calmly as if nothing had occurred. 
 
 Struck with horror at the fate of this fair and 
 unhappy youth — a fate wliich she felt she had 
 drawn upon him, Beeltuthma retired to the back 
 part of the tent, and seating herself on the ground, 
 g'ave herself up to the overwhelming anguish and 
 dread of her soul. The day passed silently and 
 sullenly away. The night came and past also ; in 
 the morning she was hastily summoned forth, and 
 led by the guards to the outlet of the camp. As 
 she reached it, and found herself in the path by 
 which they had ascended, she raised her eyes, and 
 beheld the object of attack. It was a fortress 
 perched on the summit of a black and precipitous 
 rock, that soared far above the surrounding peaks 
 of the mountains. Its situation was such, as might 
 well defy the most fierce and daring efforts of men ; 
 
310 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 the very brain of the beholder swimming dizzily as 
 he gazed at it; and the walls, built of the same 
 black and adamantine stone, appeared impenetrable 
 to all human force. Here the crow-foot could not 
 act — its crooked claws could not reach the summits 
 of those lofty walls to drag them down, stone by 
 stone ; the battering-ram — the terrible balista, were 
 equally useless. Could they have been conveyed 
 up these narrow and precipitous mountains, where 
 might they have been planted to bear their mighty 
 concussions upon those air-hung bulwarks ? Beel- 
 tuthma gazed in fear and admiration, and a strange 
 intensity of tried affections on that lofty stronghold. 
 On its walls she could see men moving ever and 
 anon; and they were her own countrymen — per- 
 haps two of them, her father and her husband ! 
 She could see, too, at a glance, the terrible deeds 
 that must have been done before those walls. The 
 gates were blackened with fire ; but they were of 
 iron, anc" stood unmoved ; the very rock and stones 
 were of a nature that defied the fiercest flames. 
 She saw that the besiegers had erected a covered 
 way of massy stones to the gate, beneath which- 
 they were even yet working with picks and ham- 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 311 
 
 mers, with an apparently hopeless, but an un- 
 wearied assiduity. She saw that whole rocks had 
 been hurled down from the fortress to crush these 
 works, and they who raised them. She saw arrows, 
 and spears, and bloody stones scattered in a pro- 
 fuse and dread confusion around the feet of the 
 rock on which the tower stood ; and bodies of men, 
 battered and shapeless, lay there also. 
 
 Her eye caught the view of a ladder formed of 
 short staves of wood, driven at frequent intervals 
 into the wall of the fortress, and ascending towards 
 a small outlet, or window, which was protected 
 from the view of the besieged above, by a large 
 projecting tower. The ladder had nearly reached 
 the outlet. A man was busily employed cuttintr 
 out the hole for the last stave, in the joint of the 
 wall ; and others, with cautious steps, were ascend- 
 ing after him, ready to follow through the narrow 
 window they had in view, should the first man 
 succeed in gaining it. Beeltuthma's brain reeled, 
 and her whole frame shook with terror for these 
 daring men, though they were her enemies, as 
 she saw them ascending by so frail a stair, at 
 such a giddy height, to such a hazardous enter- 
 
312 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 prise. As she gazed, she beheld the man at the 
 top, drive in the last stave ; she saw him plant 
 his iron chisel to wrench open the wooden door, 
 when, instantly, it flew open — a spear was pro- 
 truded, and the unhappy wretch upon the ladder 
 plunged down — down from that dreadful height, 
 and fell, dashed to atoms on the rock, far, far 
 below. A cry of horror arose from the besiegers, 
 followed by a fierce shout of wrath and onset, and 
 it was echoed by the wild acclaim of the besieged. 
 In a moment a large stone was seen issuing from 
 the outlet, and dashing on the next man on the 
 ladder, bore him also to his terrible fate : yet 
 the rest, instead of retreating from so appalling a 
 scene, only rushed with more eager steps up the 
 projecting staves, as if animated with a fury in 
 which danger, life, everything but the destruction 
 of their foes, were forgotten. Terrible was the 
 spectacle that followed : as they reached the outlet, 
 one by one, they were sent flying down through 
 the air ; yet the stream below staid not ; — as one 
 disappeared, another took his place ; and now, 
 one strong man reached the window, and instead 
 of sharing the fate of his predecessors, suddenly 
 
BEELTUTKMA. 313 
 
 seizing the spear aimed at him, he plucked it from 
 the hand which held it, and turning its point, 
 darted it into the tower, and at a strong bound 
 threw himself half within the outlet. There, for 
 a moment, he was seen as if battling with the 
 foes within, the lower extremities of his body 
 only visible without, while his next fellow thrust 
 him forward, to ensure his entrance into the tower, 
 that he might himself follow, — when, at -once, 
 his frame was flung backwards as by a mighty 
 power. He appeared to be launched into the air 
 like his fellows ; but again, he caught the sill of 
 the outlet with his hands— he clung ! — he wavered ! 
 — he fell ! — and the loud groan of horror of the 
 besieged, drowned the dash of his carcass on the 
 rocky pavement. In the same instant, the white 
 head of ah old man appeared at the outlet; — he 
 hurled forth the next assailant, as a stone is flung 
 bounding from the precipitous brow of a hill, 
 which it is descending in thunder ; then, glancing 
 down the ladder, he launched a piece of rock 
 with such precision, that it cleared the fatal esca- 
 lade to a fearful extent of its climbers, who fell 
 like a flock of crows which the arrows of an army 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 BEELTUTHiMA. 
 
 have pierced, as they flew above it. The trumpet 
 of the captain sounded a retreat, and in a few 
 seconds, the staves were seen standing naked in the 
 wall, that shone with streams of gore against the 
 morninof sun. 
 
 Beeltuthma, whose guards had halted at the 
 sight of this most horrible spectacle, was found 
 lying senseless on the ground — she had seen her 
 father ! 
 
 When she recovered her consciousness, she was 
 hastily led up a winding narrow ascent in the 
 rocks, which the assistance of her conductors alone 
 enabled her to climb, and soon found herself on the 
 summit of a lofty cliff, opposite the tower, and by 
 her side — the fearful Joab. 
 
 The besieged, who had paused in entranced 
 attention to the bloody contest which had been 
 going on at the window, now re-appeared on the 
 walls, and were preparing to send a flight of 
 arrows at the persons who thus shewed themselves 
 on the opposite cliff', when Joab causing a trumpet 
 to be blown, and waving a small, white banner 
 in his hand, called for Tartak and Lohi. Immedi- 
 diately the hostile preparations ceased, and the 
 
BEELTUTHMA. • 315 
 
 two chiefs appeared. When Beeltuthma beheld 
 the objects of her heart's whole affections, and 
 of the long and sad pilgrimage thus before her, 
 she raised her hands, as if forgetful of the great 
 gulph between them, and uttered a piercing cry. 
 Her guards instantly seized her, lest in her emo- 
 tion she should leap from the cliff; and Joab, with 
 a voice that seemed to emulate in strength the 
 trumpet which had just spoken, cried, ^" Know 
 ye this woman?" There was a deep and long- 
 silence ; during which, even at that distance, the 
 workings of the countenances of the Ammonitish 
 chiefs, might be discerned. Curiosity, strange 
 astonishment, agony of heart, and a settled gloom 
 as of despair, passed athwart their features — at 
 length they replied, solemnly, " We know her !" 
 " It is well !" replied Joab. " And what now may 
 be your determination ? Will ye submit to our 
 arms?" "These walls," they returned, " are yet 
 unbroken — these towers are well replenished with 
 food — why should we submit ? If thou hast seized 
 the last fair treasure of our country, the last 
 precious stem of our house, whom we behold 
 here as one from the dead — is it needful that 
 
316 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 we should sacrifice our lives, and the lives of these 
 men? Yet we would gladly one of us lay down 
 a life for the redemption of that beloved one, could 
 we be assured that it would suffice !" " Come 
 down, then !" cried Joab, " I ask not life for life — 
 I ask only that ye yield up the tower, and depart 
 with this woman." 
 
 " Oh, come down I come down ! blessed ones !" 
 cried Beeltuthma, "accept the generous oifer of 
 this great chief — let us away together to our own 
 dear country ! Come down, that I may once more 
 clasp you to my soul !" 
 
 " Let the mighty Joab retire from before these 
 walls — let him evacuate the^e mountains," replied 
 the aged Tartak — " let us see his armed train 
 ascending the hills beyond the marsh, and we 
 pledge ourselves to come down, and retire to our 
 own land." 
 
 "Nay!" cried the stern Hebrew — "we will not 
 retire ! — we will wait, to enter in and possess 
 the tower, but we swear to give free egress to yoii 
 and yours." 
 
 "That we ma}^ be pursued and slaughtered in 
 the plain !" cried the Ammonites. " We come 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 317 
 
 not down, then ! Shall we put our lives into the 
 hands of him, who spared not the babe in our 
 houses — and gave those houses to the flame ? 
 Who slew the son of his own king ? Who slew 
 treacherously the captains of the king's host? 
 Nay, we come not down till we see thee beyond 
 the marsh !'* 
 
 " Bear the woman to her tent ! " said Joab ; 
 and her guards took hold on her to lead her away. 
 She gave one wild, long look at her kindred— one 
 heavy groan, and followed as they shewed the way. 
 
 We attempt not to describe the feelings of Beel- 
 tuthma, as she sate in her tent during the remainder 
 of that day. Her heart was a region of many wild 
 and woful thoughts, many fears, many speculations, 
 which the next moment appeared impossibilities ; — 
 but the great wish of her soul was, that she were 
 in the tower with her father and husband, that she 
 might die with them : " but they will die," she 
 said, " and I shall be borne away to a living death 
 in captivity." 
 
318 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Day closed upon her sorrow. At midnight she was 
 roused by a strange tumult. She started up, and 
 beheld her husband in the entrance of her tent. 
 "Follow! follow quickly!" he cried; but in the 
 next moment there was the clash of arms, the shout 
 of combatants, the flash of torches ; and she saw 
 her husband and father, and their small band of 
 followers, in deadly contest with their foes. It 
 was evident that they had made a nocturnal sally 
 from the fortress, in hope of carrying Beeltuthma 
 off. The battle was furiously contested. She saw 
 the white locks of her father flying ; she saw his 
 sword flashing to and fro, and the active form of 
 Lohi leaping upon his foes. But everywhere they 
 were beset ; and everywhere the tall, iron frame of 
 Joab, with grim countenance and desperate blows, 
 seemed to meet them. She stood, and wrung her 
 hands in mental agony, and called upon the gods 
 for once to shew their power. But the battle 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 319 
 
 rolled towards the outlet in the rocks; in a few 
 seconds it had passed from the camp ; there only 
 lay dead and dying men. The sound of the con- 
 flict was heard beyond the cliffs, — farther, farther 
 it removed, till a faint shout seemed to announce 
 some distant event, and then all was still. At 
 length a few soldiers returned to guard the camp — 
 the rest returned not. All night Beeltuthma stood 
 and listened, with her whole soul alive to catch the 
 smallest sound ; but none came. In the earliest 
 morning the tents were struck, and they began the 
 descent of the mountains. A gleam of hope 
 crossed Beeltuthma's soul, that her kinsmen had 
 escaped. Had they been slain, some manifestations 
 of triumph would have been exhibited ; but now 
 all was silent haste and diligence, — they must be 
 engaged in pursuit. She cast one glance at the 
 tower as she departed, — the gates were open, — the 
 banner of Judah was waving on the walls ! 
 
 Beeltuthma now cast eager looks onward. She 
 fancied she could hear shouts, here and there, in 
 the distance ; she saw men running over the hills 
 beyond the marsh ; her whole soul was one living, 
 fervent, unceasing prayer for the escape of her 
 
•3'2() BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 kindred. At noon they reached the foot of the 
 mountains beside the marsh, where they had en- 
 camped in coming; and here again the tents were 
 pitched. During the afternoon, small parties kept 
 coming in from the pursuit; but she heard no 
 sounds of triumph — saw no evidences of the cap- 
 ture of her friends : her heart beat wildly with the 
 hope of their deliverance. 
 
 At nightfall, fires were lit around the camp ; a 
 strong guard was set, and everything indicated the 
 most active watchfulness. At midnight again Beel- 
 tuthma dreamed that her husband stood in the 
 door of her tent ; that again the tumult of assault 
 broke out. She started up — all was" darkness and 
 silence. Her heart beat loudly with alarm. She 
 sate and listened. She fancied she heard her name 
 breathed softly from the back of the tent, — a thrill 
 of strong surprise, like a sudden fear, passed 
 through her. She deemed it the work of an 
 excited fancy; yet she listened still. And again 
 she heard her name uttered as by the voice of a 
 scarce audible breeze. Again it came, and it was 
 like the accents of Lohi. The back of her tent was 
 against a rocky precipice ; — could her husband in 
 
BEELTUTHMA. '3*21 
 
 his anxiety to rescue her, have ventured himself 
 there ? She sprung up trembling, but desperate at 
 the thought, and approached the place. She 
 paused a moment ; she saw a star gleam through a 
 gash in the side of the tent. She fixed upon it her 
 eye; and in the next instant, saw a human face 
 applied to the aperture ; and heard her name again 
 breathed, in a tone which she could not mistake. 
 Compelled by the terror of Lohi's situation to sup- 
 press her feelings, she drew close to the spot and 
 whispered — " Is it Lohi?" "Yes, my love, it is 
 Lohi," w^as the reply, " be silent and come forth." 
 In the same moment the sword of her husband 
 opened the curtain of the tent to the ground, and 
 she found herself in his arms. "Follow!" he 
 whispered, and led the way. With steps silent as 
 those of the doe on the velvet moss of the wood- 
 land, though with a beating and terrified heart, she 
 pursued, led by his hand. He disappeared through 
 a narrow cleft hidden by the bushes, and for some- 
 time they went on in silence. Anon, he began 
 to ascend a narrow ravine between the dark crags, 
 where to her, all was blindness. Onwards and up- 
 wards they went with active speed, now winding 
 p3 
 
322 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 this way, now tliat, till the free gale of heaven 
 blew upon them, and its stars shone brightly above 
 their heads. Here Lohi turned, and clasped his 
 wife in a close embrace ; — they stood and wept in 
 each other's arms. Beeltuthma had no words ; her 
 soul was melted into love and gratitude before 
 the gods. At length Lohi said, — " here for the 
 moment we are safe ; and here would I ask thee, 
 how it is that I clasp my own Beeltuthma once 
 more ? We deemed thee dead — fallen with the rest 
 of our friends and kindred in the burning city ; and 
 reckless of our lives, we pursued the conquerors, 
 and harassed them on their way. When they 
 entered their land, we turned aside and climbed 
 these mountains. We surprised this fortress, and 
 awaited some opportunity to sell our lives in a 
 burst of vengeance on the destroyers. But now 
 life is precious, — let us fly and preserve it ! " 
 
 "Yes ! yes ! let us fly," said Beeltuthma, "but 
 where shall we fly ? How shall we escape these 
 dreadful men ? Even now I tremble lest they 
 leap upon us." 
 
 " Fear not," said Lohi. " I have learned to know 
 these mountains better than our pursuers. While 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 323 
 
 they sought us to day, I lay amongst the rocks, 
 and looked down into their camp ; and marked 
 where they pitched thy tent. We will now hasten 
 to thy father, who lies hidden beyond the lake, — : 
 and away to our own land. We may yet find a 
 remnant to gather, and restore our kingdom ! " 
 
 " Oh ! to be once," cried Beeltuthma, " in that 
 sweet land ! though it is lying in ashes and deso- 
 lation — yet will it be blessed to dwell there with 
 thee, and weep over our kindred that have 
 perished ! " 
 
 Lohi grasped her arm, and led her silently on 
 their way. They proceeded by many paths known 
 only to him. At length they entered a deep 
 defile. "Anon," said Lohi, "we shall issue forth 
 by the lake near the hiding-place of thy father, 
 who even now expects us." They passed on with 
 rapid steps, but, at once, the forms of men started 
 up from the steep sides of the ravine ; — before — 
 behind, they appeared; their swords and shields 
 gleamed faintly in the star-light, and many stern 
 voices bade them stand. Lohi drew his sword, and 
 fell furiously upon them; but, like locusts, they 
 closed round him in numbers ; and the terrified 
 
324 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 Beeltutlima cried — " Fly ! fly, for thy life ! — me 
 they will harm not ! " 
 
 Lohi seemed to hear her not, but continued to 
 smite vehemently at his enemies, crying, " Tartak! 
 Tartak I " The stern Tartak and the Ammonites 
 suddenly appeared behind, and like a band of lions 
 roused to fury, overturned everything in their 
 way ; passing on like a whirlwind, and every- 
 where crying, "Beeltutlima! Beeltuthma!" She 
 heard, and rushed forth, and sprung to the arms 
 of Tartak, who clasped her to his bosom, and 
 hurried away towards the wood on the border of 
 the Black lake. But the tumult had reached the 
 Hebrew soldiers, who were waiting to support, if 
 needful, the ambush. They came pouring in on all 
 sides, the dreadful Joab himself appearing between 
 them and the water. He rushed furiously on 
 them, and the little band was speedily surrounded 
 by numbers. " Let us die like men !" cried Lohi ; 
 and the arms of himself and the aged Tartak struck 
 down men on every side. But their little band of 
 followers fell rapidly, and the mighty Joab, stalking 
 like a giant in his wrath, now flickered his sword 
 in their faces, and cut the spear of Tartak in twain. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 325 
 
 In a moment, the two warriors were pressed to the 
 earth by numbers, and bound beneath the eyes of 
 the weeping Beeltuthma. 
 
 The trumpet sounded at dawn ; — the tents M'ere 
 struck, and they marched away to the fertile plains 
 of Gilead. 
 
 Who may tell the weight of woe that lay on 
 the soul of Beeltuthma, as they retraced their path 
 towards Judea; — the last hopes of her existence 
 crushed, — the lives of her father and husband in 
 the hands of Joab ! The stupor of affliction made 
 her day like a dreary night, and the night like a 
 wakeful horror. The next day they crossed the 
 Jordan, and at nightfall encamped in the wilder- 
 ness, on the very spot where they had halted on 
 the first night of their going forth. 
 
 Beeltuthma sate on the ground in her tent, 
 loaded with the full weight of affliction which can 
 fall upon a human being. The climax was given 
 to the long series of evil fortune which had visited 
 her. From a princess in a great nation ; from the 
 cherished daughter, the idolized wife, the beloved 
 and admired woman, she had sunk to a fugitive 
 amid burning cities, ravaged fields, and slaughtered 
 
3-26 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 people ; to a disguised wanderer in a hostile land, 
 seeking with a fearful heart, and feeble hope, the 
 last small remnant of her beloved ones; to a 
 captive in the hands of the destroyer of her nation ; 
 and now, the sole relics of her soul's wealth, — to 
 her belief, the sole remains of the nobility of her 
 people, were lying in that camp, in chains, uncom- 
 forted even by her presence^ and awaiting some 
 cruel and ignominious death in the view of their 
 triumphant enemies. It was too much for woman's 
 heart, and a heart so gentle, and warm, and soft as 
 hers ; it seemed as though it had crushed it to a 
 stone. A heavy and dark load lay on her soul 
 like that of a mountain, which quenched all con- 
 sciousness but that of pain and terror. She sate 
 with her tearless eye fixed on one spot ; motionless 
 as a statue ; and evinced neither by tear, nor sigh, 
 nor groan, her feeling of her woe ; — it was too 
 mighty for all expression — except tliat death-like 
 expression, which is more terrible than death. 
 
 During the latter watches of the night, however, 
 lier consciousness evinced itself by a heavy sigh ; 
 and, as one struck by some sudden idea, she sprang 
 up abruptly, and moved to the door of the tent. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 3*27 
 
 The stars were burning brightly in the clear, dark 
 sky, and her gaze was fixed on them in a burning 
 and stedfast intensity, till they seemed to wake in 
 her some tender and melancholy feeling. Tears 
 sprang into her large, dark eyes, and rolled down 
 her pale and rigid cheeks. She turned from the 
 sky, and looked abroad near the dark earth It 
 was a wild, autumnal night. The wind was vigor- 
 ously careering over the wilderness, fluttering and 
 swaying the tents as it passed ; and singing in its 
 opening with a melancholy music. She saw the 
 dark hill sides illuminated with the watch-fires; 
 and the trees, here and there as they roared in the 
 blast, lit up with a silvery whiteness by the flames. 
 The fires wavered to and fro in long and ruddy 
 volumes, now pointing this way, now suddenly 
 darting themselves in another direction, denoting 
 that the wind was eddying and variable ; and the 
 smoke, as it rolled off in yellow clouds, was caught 
 up by the gale with a hungry avidity, and disap- 
 peared in the distant darkness. 
 
 Beeltuthma contemplated this scene with a heavy 
 and half-conscious perception ; but as her eyes 
 wandered among the dark forms of the watchers 
 
328 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 around the fires, they were suddenly arrested by 
 one that seemed to call her spirit forth as from a 
 brooding dream. It was Joab himself. Like an 
 unresting spirit, notwithstanding the vast fatigue of 
 the last few days, there he was between the mid- 
 night and the morning, moving from outpost to 
 outpost, although bis foes were safe in his hands, 
 and he was encamped in his own peaceful country. 
 She saw him soon move apart to a fire where there 
 was no one else, and stand resting one hand on the 
 hilt of his heavy sword, gazing on the flames with 
 the same stern and hard expression as he wore on 
 the evening she first saw him. There was nothing 
 triumphant nor despondent in his looks— it was the 
 natural, or habitual look of austere, yet unconcerned 
 gravity which belonged to his ordinary mood. 
 
 But what strange vision was that which then 
 caught her eye ? It was that of three mysterious 
 figures, moving from the distant darkness towards 
 him, with the silent steps of spirits and the dignity 
 of gods. Could they be men? They had the 
 figures and the motions of men, but their steps 
 seemed soundless, and they moved not the heath 
 beneath their tread. They came on with a digni- 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 329 
 
 fied, and yet a rapid pace. One was a nobly-built 
 and nobly-featured man, clad in the peaceful habili- 
 ments of a leader amongst his people. His fine, 
 large countenance had an air of dignity mingled 
 with much kindliness, and grave good sense ; but it 
 was bloodless as that of a spirit, though his eye 
 had not merely the brightness, but the human ex- 
 pression of life. His cap was richly adorned with 
 the feathers of the ostrich, which swayed gracefully 
 over his shoulder ; and in his hand he bore one of 
 those light and golden-headed spears which are 
 carried on occasions of peace, more for state than as 
 instruments of defence. 
 
 The second was a youthful figure, moulded like 
 a god. His graceful form, perfect in the shaping 
 of every limb, and in the exquisite grace of every 
 motion, was only to be equalled by the frank and 
 manly, but somewhat dissipated and ambitious cast 
 of a countenance of wonderful beauty. It was like 
 the statue of Tammuz "himself; and his hair, which 
 rolled from his crown on every side in volumes of 
 rich and heavy gold, was such as Beeltuthma had 
 never seen amongst all the noble youths of her land, 
 nor had imagined but in dreams. He wore no cover- 
 
330 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 iiig on his head, as if it was too glorious to be con- 
 cealed by any earthly fabric, however princely. 
 His vest was of rich purple, embroidered with gold. 
 His outer garb was of the Tyrian dye, and was 
 folded around him with a grace that none but some 
 few highly-favoured mortals ever attained. His 
 sandals were of gold, fastened by richly embroidered 
 bands. But his face, like that of his fellows, was 
 pale, and — marvellous sight! — the shafts of three 
 darts were seen entering his breast in such a manner 
 that their points must meet in his heart ! — Yet he 
 lived, and moved as if they'inconvenienced him not. 
 
 The third was a man of an open, unsuspicious 
 countenance; clad in a long, highly-embroidered 
 military robe, on which was bound the empty scab- 
 bard of a sword. His sandals, and the skirts of his 
 robe, were dusty as with travel; on his head he 
 wore the helmet of a chief captain. 
 
 Beeltuthma gazed on these extraordinary figures 
 with an intensity of interest that made her half 
 forget the weight of her sorrows. Were they gods? 
 If so, why so pale? Were they spirits of Joab's 
 countrymen, who sought in him an avenger ? — for 
 Beeltuthma saw with wonder that the lower gar- 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 381 
 
 ments of them all were alike drenched .with blood ; 
 all had the pallid hue of death; and the princely 
 figure of the youth, those three mysterious, yet un- 
 destroying darts in his bosom. But if these, why 
 those reproachful looks with which they drew near? 
 Were they men who had fallen by his treacherous 
 hand? — Her soul, and their aspects and manner, 
 darkly inclined her to this conclusion. The stern 
 man saw their approach, but he moved not. He 
 fixed his eyes upon them with a look of strong, but 
 subdued wonder, but there was no trace of fear on 
 his bold, unblanching features. They came on, till 
 they stood only a few yards from him. Each with 
 one hand pointed to his own body, whence streams 
 of blood seemed afresh to flow ; and with the other, 
 towards the camp. Beeltuthma started; for it 
 struck her that the apparition bore some reference 
 to her fate. Were they Hebrews, whom Tartak 
 and Lohi had slain in battle ? And did they come 
 to cry for vengeance now those chiefs lay bound in 
 his hands ! The idea seemed filled with probabi- 
 lity; and chilled her with a deadly horror. She 
 gazed with straining and eager eyes at them, and 
 with outstretched neck, longing to catch the import 
 
33*2 EEELTUTHMA. 
 
 of their^ords. But there was no voice audible at 
 that distance. She saw their pale countenances 
 charged with a mighty indignation, and their eyes 
 were rivetted on the countenance of Joab with an 
 expression of inextinguishable reproach, and, as she 
 thought, of disdain. 
 
 Whatever were their words, their errand, or the 
 meaning of their looks, the unshaken warrior 
 seemed to regard them not; and so far, were they 
 demanding vengeance against Tartak and Lohi, the 
 inference was consoling. He maintained his posi- 
 tion, leaning on his swordj and altered it not, 
 except when they appeared to menace him in their 
 communications, to raise his hand, and wave it with 
 a motion of defiance, which his stern features fully 
 seconded. The figures gave one commanding look, 
 pointed once more eagerly towards the camp, and 
 instantly kindling, as into an ethereal flame, grow 
 brighter and brighter, till they became forms of 
 intense and translucent radiance ; — then gradually 
 faded, dimmed, and disappeared. 
 
 The general stood alone, still leaning on his 
 sword, but in a more thoughtful attitude, for some 
 time ; then turned, and walked slowly towards his 
 tent. 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 333 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 The morning broke upon Beeltuthma as she sate 
 alternately turning her sorrowful mind from the 
 situation of her kinsmen to this marvellous appari- 
 tion. It appeared as a dream; and the regular 
 movements of the camp seemed to her, evidence 
 that no one partook of its consciousness with her. 
 The tents were struck — the trumpet sounded to 
 march ; and she beheld herself seated on the same 
 steed, between the same guards, in the same situa- 
 tion, in the rear of the troop; and Joab riding 
 coldly on his war-horse at its head, as when they 
 set out. The only circumstances of difference 
 were, that the troop was much diminished in num- 
 bers, and in the rear came many wounded soldiers, 
 borne on temporary litters, and a sight that wrung 
 her with inexpressible agony, — Tartak and Lohi, 
 strongly fettered and strongly guarded. Thus 
 they marched; and thus they entered Joab's house 
 in the wilderness. 
 
334 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 Beeltuthma had not slept since the capture of 
 Tartak and Lohi ; and in the same small chamber 
 where she had passed the night before the de- 
 parture for the mountain fortress, she slept not 
 now as she did then. She sate upon the bed, the 
 same image of the torpidity of excessive affliction 
 as in the camp. In the morning, she was sum- 
 moned forth to the. presence of Joab ; and feeble 
 and wasted with her consuming anguish, and filled 
 with terrible apprehensions, she arose, and with 
 unstable steps proceeded to the house-top. There 
 she beheld the chief sitting on the same stone seat, 
 with the same hard indifferent aspect as at the first 
 interview. The faded and drooping form of Beel- 
 tuthma, her countenance thin and rigid, and death- 
 pale with woe, might have touched a heart of the 
 hardest texture, but it seemed not to touch him. 
 She approached, and prostrated herself before him. 
 
 " Behold ! " said he, " I have found that which 
 thou soughtest ! I have found thy kinsmen. 
 Thou hast seen how they have caused the blood of 
 the Lord's people to flow like water; thou hast 
 seen their pride and obstinacy ; thou hast seen how 
 they have refused the offer of freedom at my 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 335 
 
 hands ; but have ceased not to pursue me with 
 inextinguishable fury. Now shalt thou behold the 
 judgment of the Lord ! " 
 
 " Oh, my lord ! mighty and irresistible !" cried 
 Beeltuthma, laying her hand upon her head, 
 " spare ! spare these unhappy men ! Thou h^st 
 done thy will upon our nation. Her cities, her 
 fields, her sons and daughters, lie they not all 
 prostrate in the dust at thy feet? and these two 
 men, what can their lives avail against thee ? — what 
 good shall their deaths do thee ? Surely ! surely 
 thy heart is satisfied with blood ! Oh ! do whatso- 
 ever seemeth thee good to thine handmaid, bul 
 spare, I beseech thee, these sorrowful men ! Let 
 me die, — but let them live ! They are as but a 
 drop in the buckcu my lord: — let them return, and 
 feel in the silence of their fields, and the dust and 
 ashes of their cities, the greatness of thy power ; — 
 the dead ! the dead cannot acknowledge it ! " 
 
 " Hast thou seen their cruel deeds," sternly 
 replied Joab, " to my followers ? — Didst thou see 
 how the sons of Jacob fell like dogs from the walls 
 of their tower, and were dashed to atoms amidst 
 their triumphant yells — and dost thou dare to plead 
 for them?" 
 
336 BEELTUTHxMA. 
 
 " Oh, my lord ! " cried the feeble and trembling 
 Beeltutlima, lifting up her head, and rising on one 
 knee in the earnest wrestling of her spirit ; " and 
 what have they done, but as brave men, who would 
 defend and avenge their country to the last drop of 
 their blood? Would my lord see the enemies of 
 Israel destroying her on every side, and resist them 
 not, and avenge not his people's wrongs till his 
 eye grew dim with weariness, and his arm failed 
 with the out-pouring of his life-blood? They are 
 men, — brave men ! — good men ! As men they 
 have fought, and as a man, — oh forgive ! forgive ! *' 
 
 " Woman, thou knowest not that the Lord has 
 given the command to destroy you as a wicked and 
 idolatrous race ! " 
 
 " Yea ! " she replied, casting her eyes on the 
 floor, " I know, — I feel that your God is mighty, 
 far mightier than our gods ! — I feel that our gods 
 have abandoned us, or cannot defend us, — but it 
 was not so in past days. Our people grew, and 
 spread, and their arms won safety and honour ; — 
 but thy God is mighty and gracious to his people 
 ^-forgive ! my lord ! forgive ! and let us worship 
 thy God with thee ; and let us be the lowest of his 
 children ; — svu'ely he will pity and receive us ! " 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 337 
 
 The warrior cast a scornful smile at the sup- 
 plicating woman, and said — " Can a heathen dog 
 become a lion of Judah ? No — no ! — we ask not 
 the worshippers of stocks and stones to come into 
 the tabernacle of the IMost High, bringing their 
 vile images beneath their garments, and seated in 
 their leprous souls, to defile his courts. Woman ! 
 I called thee not to weep, and weary me with thy 
 words, but to see what God has decreed for every 
 rebellious idolater." 
 
 He waved his hand, and the heavy crimson 
 curtain, which Beeltuthma had not observed drawn 
 across the tower, was rolled back, and she beheld 
 her husband and father standing in their chains, 
 and on each hand an armed man. At the sight, 
 she leapt to her feet, and with clenched hands and 
 terror-fixed eyes, gazed upon them. Their coun- 
 tenances were pale with strong emotion ; but they 
 stood firm, and untouched with fear ; their eyes 
 turned on Beeltuthma with an expression of 
 boundless and eternal tenderness. 
 
 At a sign from Joab, forth flashed the swords of 
 their keepers ; — at another, their swords were 
 raised, and waited but the permission to smite, 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
338 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 when Beeltutlima, starting as from a dream, sprang 
 forwards to embrace them. Her steps were ar- 
 rested by her guards ; and once more flinging 
 herself at Joab's feet, she cried frantically — " Kill 
 me ! kill me first ! Let me not see the deaths of 
 my kindred !" 
 
 She was startled in the midst of her agony of 
 appeal by a voice behind her, and by the eye of 
 Joab, which, with a troubled light, was directed 
 towards the place whence the voice came. She 
 arose, and beheld an aged man, whose countenance 
 was fixed on that of Joab with the severity of an 
 indignant judge. The old man was clad in a 
 coarse woollen robe, bound with a broad leathern 
 girdle, and leaned on his stafi" in the extremity of 
 years. His hair and beard were white as snow, 
 and his countenance was full of that spiritual 
 dignity, that bows the mind of the beholder in 
 profound veneration. At his back, stood two 
 youths, in the strength and bloom of early man- 
 hood, and clad in the same simple garb as the 
 aged stranger. 
 
 Beeltuthma saw that the guards had bowed their 
 faces to the earth, and that even Joab's hard and 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 339 
 
 daring features betrayed the homage due to his 
 visitor. 
 
 " Joab ! Joab ! " exclaimed he, in a voice full of 
 a solemn, mysterious command, "what is this 
 which thou hast done ? When the word of the 
 Lord revealed to me the retreat of these captives, 
 said it not also that thou shouldst wait the judg- 
 ment of the Lord ? And behold ! already the 
 sword is raised to smite them ! " 
 
 « Man of God!" said Joab, "has not the Lord 
 said smite the heathen, and spare them not ? And 
 knowest thou that these bloody men have scorned 
 the offer of peace, and slain abundance of the 
 Lord's people?" 
 
 " Man of a stubborn heart," retorted the prophet, 
 for such his words, and the words of Joab an- 
 nounced him, " shall not the Lord kill, and shall 
 he not keep alive as it best pleaseth him ? And 
 darest thou to question the command of the 
 Almighty? Who raised up thy kinsman to the 
 throne — raised thee also with him, and gave thee 
 might before thy enemies, and honour before thy 
 people ; and has given thee possessions, and an 
 everlasting name ?" 
 
340 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 " And have I not been zealous," interrupted the 
 haughty chief, "for the kingdom?" 
 
 " Thou hast been zealous, and thy zeal has been 
 approved, although it has not been tempered with 
 mercy, nor obedience; yet it has been approved, 
 or long ere this day thy life had been as the life 
 of Korah in the wilderness, and as the life of Saul. 
 Oh ! man of blood !— thou hast smitten, and hast 
 had no mercy; thou hast overturned and laid waste, 
 and lamented not; thou hast also stretched out 
 thy hand treacherously against thine own fellows. 
 Who slew the righteous Abner, when he came 
 to heal the divisions of Israel? Who smote the 
 young man Absalom, when his father had said, 
 smite him not? Who smote the unsuspicious 
 Amasa, as he went on the way on the king's 
 business — smote him with a guileful look, and a 
 jealous hand ? Will thy soul never cease to thirst 
 for blood? thy spirit never bow to God's com- 
 mands, though he send, as he sent but yesternight, 
 the dead — the slain of thine own hand, to speak 
 his warnings? Behold! doth the lion slay the 
 dove that, pursued by the kite, flies into his den? 
 Doth the wolf crush with his paw the lizard, that 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 341 
 
 Sports amongst the bones of his lair ? Yet hast 
 thou no bowels of compassion on this meek, and 
 broken-hearted woman, on whose ways, and the 
 yearnhigs of whose spirit, the Lord hath looked 
 down in tender compassion ; and hast never called 
 to mind how the Moabitess, Ruth, found favour in 
 his eyes, for the love and the faith that was in 
 her soul, so that he has made her the mother 
 of kings, and engrafted her into the line which 
 shall bring forth the Hope and the Blessing of all 
 nations ; and thou — even thou — art of her lineage ! 
 Herein, oh lover of battles ! hast thou grievously 
 offended; and thy deeds of cruelty will not pass 
 from remembrance. 
 
 " I see a glorious monarch coming on in the path 
 of years, to sit on the throne of Israel. I see 
 him unsheath the sword of retribution against the 
 offenders in his father's days. I see the altar of 
 God; and one who shewed no pity, and feared not 
 to crush the feeble and the desolate, clings to its 
 horns for safety — and finds none ! 
 
 " Behold ! thou bruised, but obedient and meek 
 daughter of a chastised people, thy heart is ap- 
 proved, and thy person is accepted by the Lord 
 
342 BEELTUTHMA. 
 
 of the earth Go ! take the lives of thy kinsmen, 
 and return to thine own land, and become the 
 mother of future kings ! and forget not to tell thy 
 children what thou hast seen — that the God of 
 Israel is the only God ! — the God whom thy fathers 
 once knew, but from whom they have wandered. 
 Let them hear this, that they may cast out from 
 their houses and their hearts, the images of hea- 
 thenism, which are an offence. 
 
 " See now the work of the Lord !" 
 
 The prophet, who had become animated with the 
 inspiration of the moment, till his weak and bend- 
 ing body rose into erectness and the power as of 
 youth, now turned, and bade the guards bring 
 forward the captives ; and when they came near, 
 he put forth his hand, and touched their chains, 
 which fell from them as they had melted at the 
 touch of lightning. Tartak and Lohi fell prostrate 
 in astonishment and awe ; and Beeltuthma, bathing 
 the feet of the prophet with torrents of tears, cried, 
 " Oh ! holy man ! thy God is my God, and none 
 besides — for he is a God of might, and also a 
 God of compassion !" 
 
 " Arise ! " said the seer, " and depart ! Your 
 
BEELTUTHMA. 343 
 
 way is open : rest, and food shall not fail you ; nor 
 shall anything have power to hurt you, till ye 
 come into your land ! " 
 
 He turned towards the stairs of the tower, — 
 exhibiting the marvellous doings of the Almighty, 
 by which such wondrous power was made to reside 
 in a frame, that seemed already tottering to the 
 grave ; and, at one and the same time, might be 
 seen this aged servant of God seated in his litter, 
 and borne by two of the sons of the prophets, and 
 followed by a little troop of others, ready to take 
 their turns in bearing him, moving over the plains 
 at a rapid pace; while, in another direction, went 
 the three ransomed ones, in tears of love and won- 
 der, towards their own land. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 PRINTED BY MANNING ANU SMITHSON, 
 IVY LANE, PATEKNOSTER ROW. 
 

 
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