ledged consciousness that she erred in allowing her- |ed from the gilded pinnacles of the temple at Jerusa self to love one whose she could never be. She never lem, and glanced away over the fertile plains of Ca repaired to an interview with Absalom, without re- naan, fell on the form of a maiden so beautiful, that solving that it should be the last. For she could not one would almost have expected the moonlight to but feel that there was something wrong in those pause a moment, that it might gaze longer on a thing meetings which served only as fuel to a passion alrea-so lovely. dy too violent for her peace. If angels ever envy us mortals any thing in this dark world of ours, it must be the possession of these gentle, seraph-like creatures, for whom-if ancient chronicles tell truly-heavenly beings once felt earthly passion. But not long do they envy us their posses sion. For those bright but fragile beings, that seem so unfit for the storms and falsehood here, are always the first- "Every lingering tie That binds them down to earth-to sever; But where was Absalom meanwhile? The prince had endured severe conflicts of mind. Crime was new to him, and though the sophistry of Ahithophel had, for the moment, kept from his view the wrong to which he was consenting in sanctioning the counsellor's plot; yet in after hours' reflection would and did return. He saw that he had suffered himself to be led to the verge of a fearful abyss, over which another step would plunge him irretrievably, and he shrank. He was not without ambition, though his ambition had neither the recklessness of Joab, nor the crimina lity of Ahithophel: and the idea of rebellion against a parent whom he loved, was one so utterly repugnant to his nature and religion, that he repented within an The one who was now abroad in the moonlight, -hour after he had given his consent to Ahithophel. was attended by a single maid-servant, who accompa And he would certainly have retracted that consent, nied her to a certain myrtle-grove, (mentioned in the but-and his evil angel whispered him-this plot of former part of this history,) and there remained while fered the only possible means of obtaining her who her mistress went forward into the grove. The amhad become a thousand times dearer to him than life. bassador's daughter-for it was she-had not proceed. His good resolutions were staggered in a moment.-ed many steps after leaving her maid, till she met AbLose Yehainah!-He could not!-The thought was madness-death! But how else could he gain her? He called to mind all the reasonings of the counsellor, and if they did not satisfy, they assisted to stifle his reluctance; and, with an anxious, undecided mind, he resolved to wait and see what turn affairs might take. Lost Absalom! He would fain have returned to virtue, but he could not. He had taken the first step downward, and now his evil genius had erected an insuperable barrier to his return. Oh! is it not ever thus in transgression? The egress from our Eden of innocence is easy, but when we would return, we too often find a flaming sword has been placed there. Our first outward step sealed our destiny. And with this sage reflection, (which most people will think had been better omitted,) closeth this long chapter. CHAPTER V. "And there were sudden partings, such as press Childe Harold. salom. "Yehainah-dearest Yehainah!" said the prince, as he pressed the trembling girl to his bosom; “I have waited here for the last watch-I feared thou would'st not come." Now, gentle reader, do not presume to imagine we shall tell thee all that he said, and she answered; for they were lovers, and every body knows—or ought to know-that when lovers meet, (especially after having been separated for a whole day.) they do and say a great many very silly things. We find it convenient, however, for the better explanation of our story, that thou should'st hear somewhat of their conversation. "Thou art sad, to-night," said Yehainah, as, with a face in which was pictured all the innocence of Eve before the fall, she looked up into the anxious countenance of the prince. "I have reason," replied Absalom; "I must to-night bid thee farewell for a long, long time." "O, say not so!" said the maiden, clinging closer to her lover. "I would that there were no need; but I must be in Hebron by to-morrow's eve." "And how long must it be ere thou return ?" asked the now weeping girl. Nay, this must not be-thou must not weep, Yehainah; 'tis surely enough that I am unhappy myself, without making others so." "O, I am not-cannot be unhappy with thee; but must thou go?" "I must. Yet, dearest, I will return as speedily as possible; within”— It was one of those evenings which frequently darken under an eastern sky, but which no language can describe to our ears of the northern zone, so as to give us an adequate idea of their beauty. The sun had travelled all day through a heaven whose azure was unspotted by a single cloud. The sunset with its glory, and the twilight with its shadows, had passed "A week! and cans't thou live a week from me! away, and the moon was up. Her light, as it glitter-O, Absalom! thou dost not, cans't not love.” 64 How long?" "Yehainah!" said the prince, in a tone of mingled grief and reproach, yet "more in sorrow than in an ger."-" dost thou distrust me?" There was silence for a few moments. Yehainah felt that she had wounded her lover's feelings, but this was so new a thing for her to do, that she was at a loss what to say. On the other hand, Absalom knew that her implied distrust was undesigned, so that when he spoke again, he said— "Rest assured, dearest, I will return as quickly as possible." "O, I know thou wilt," replied the maiden, anxious now to show that she had confidence in her lover, and glad to find and feel herself forgiven. "But dost thou go alone?" added she, willing to change the tone of conversation. "Yes-no-that is-I should say, the king's counsellor, noble Ahithophel; I shall meet him at Hebron." "I fear that stern man," said she, not observing the prince's confusion; "yet have I seen him much with thee of late. Absalom, perhaps I am silly, but I think he will lead thee to no good." "How?—what?-who told thee?" said the prince, hastily, then pausing-" Oh, nothing-I was thinking-but thou needest not fear him-he is my friend.” "I am glad of that; but-thou art not listening to me." 46 My lord," Joab spoke, "the noble Ahithophel obtained permission on yesterday to offer sacrifice in Giloh; but," added he, while a bitter smile played round his lips, for he felt that the counsellor was no longer a rival, "I have certain information, by a private messenger, that he is now with the prince Absalom, in Hebron." "Ah! I see it all," said the king. "But we must haste away. Until the army can be collected, this is no place for us. The rebels will soon be here." And the monarch descended from his throne. At that moment, another messenger appeared, and making the importance of his mission his apology, hurried, un "How ?-yes-I know I am. But I was think- announced, before the king. ing" the "Of what?" "Why, whether I ought to tell thee" "Does it concern thyself?-certainly thou oughtest." "Well, but what if it make thee sad?" "O, Absalom!-surely thou dost not mean"-and poor girl wept. "O, king! live for ever!-the men of Israel flock by thousands to follow Absalom-Judah only is faithful to thee!" ""Tis well!"-the messenger bowed and retired. Nobles! away to Mahanaim!-we meet there. In the meantime, let messengers be sent (he spoke to Joab) to call the army together. It may meet on the The prince cast a searching, suspicious glance plain, near the forest of Ephraim." around him, and said And they left the city-the monarch and his train. Thou lovest me, Yehainah, and I will tell thee As they passed out, Hushai, the Archite, the second that which will put my life in thy hands." counsellor in the kingdom, overtook them. TURN we now some days back, to the rest of our friends, and give explanation of some things mentioned in the last chapter. Absalom had, as we have already told the reader, designed to wait, or at least to be in no haste, relative to the contemplated revolution. This, however, would by no means suit the counsellor. Ahithophel saw that the prince's reluctance to the proposed scheme increased the longer its execution was deferred. He saw, also, that his love for Yehainah, and the certainty that she was lost to him unless this plan succeeded, alone prevented his withdrawing altogether from the plot. This would be fatal to the counsellor, and, lest the prince should find some means of possessing Yehainah, and thus utterly ruin his plans, he determined to have them executed without farther delay. But he met an almost insuperable difficulty in the unwillingness of Absalom to an immediate perform ance of his part. With his utmost sophistical skill, he made use of every argument which superhuman cunning could devise, and at last succeeded. The decision once made, there was no time to be lost; so they made immediately all arrangements necessary for success. Ahithophel sent secret agents through the whole land of Israel, with instructions, so that in the very hour when Absalom should be proclaimed king, there might be raised an army. The prince was to repair to Hebron. The counsellor would request permission to visit Giloh, his native city, under pretence of offer ing sacrifices; and from that place he would rendez vous to Hebron, where Absalom was to be immediately proclaimed. On the evening before he left Jerusalem, the prince had an interview (vide Chap. IV.) with her for whom alone he was now seeking a crown and kingdom at the risk of his life. And when they parted, it was with a presentiment in each, though neither dared speak it, that this meeting was their last. The next day, Absalom went to Hebron, as had been preconcerted, where, towards evening, he was joined by Abithophel. They raised the standard of the prince-proclaimed him king-and all Israel followed them; for Absalom was beloved by all, and though the people feared and disliked Ahithophel, yet they were glad that he was with them, for they knew that he was wise, and they trusted in his counsel. professed particular attachment to David. Hushair, however, soon gave him to understand how well he had studied politics, by assuring him that he always made it a rule to side with the strongest. Counsel was called for. Ahithophel spoke, as usual, first, and as usual, spoke wisely. He saidthat the ex king was now with few followers-com. paratively alone-taken by surprise-and without means of defence. And, as Israel had declared for Absalom, the man David alone prevented his being universally acknowledged. It was necessary, therefore, that he-David-should be secured as speedily as possible. And he recommended that a few thousand men be despatched immediately to seize his person; this being the most effectual means of preventing a civil war, and of seating Absalom firmly on the throne; for, David out of the way, there were none to dispute his right. This was certainly the very best advice that could possibly have been given, in view of the proposed end,-Absalom's quiet possession of the throne. But the young prince resolved secretly that it should not be followed. He knew that Ahithophel would give private instructions to those who should be sent to secure the ex king's person, when they had seized him, to put him to death. And though he had rebelled against his father, and was now trying to rob him of his crown, he would not-could not consent to his murder. Concealing, however, his dislike to the counsel, he feigned approval, and called on the other counsellors to speak. Hushair spoke. He said that considering the well known wisdom of the noble Ahithophel, it might appear presumptuous in him to differ from him, but,— from his sincere attachment to the young monarch, and his anxious desire to see him immediately and firmly seated on that throne which would derive ad ditional lustre from such a possessor, he must say, he could not but think advice might be offered, which would, at that time, be more suitable, as well as more practicable. He proceeded to enlarge upon the known bravery of David and his present adherents; stating that it was more than probable they were, ere this time, in some strong hold, whence it would be impossible to dislodge them with the present undisciplined troops which had been collected. Defeat now, he said, would be utter ruin. Haste was proverbially productive of more harm than good. He was therefore of opinion that it were better to wait a little, till their army should be augmented by the thousands who were hourly flocking to his standard; and by whom, he said, it would soon be increased to such numbers, that, if necessary, they might actually, in the absence of weapons, take ropes, and draw into the sea any town or citadel wherein David might endeavor to secure himself. An army was soon raised, the command of which was given to Amasa; for the counsellor had not erred in supposing that this brave commander would join This advice, so plausible, was well received by the them as a leader. The army marched immediately rest of the council, who preferred it to that of Ahitho to Jerusalem; and Absalom sat in the palace-hall phel for more reasons than one. The fact was, they which David had so recently left. As he called had all been jealous of Ahithophel's power of influ around him his counsellors, it was with no small de ence under the old king, and they determined to unite gree of surprise that he saw Hushair the Archite en-heir efforts, and prevent, if possible, his exercising ter the presence-chamber, for this man had always the same under the new monarch. They knew, or For supposed, that Absalom would be governed by the majority, and they were secure in any case. should their counsel be followed, and prove successful, it could not fail to give them that influence with Absalom which Ahithophel would, necessarily, lose. On the other hand, should their counsel prove unfortunate, and Absalom lose his usurped throne, they might return to David with the credit of having given the advice whereby the usurper had been defeated. (Our readers will learn by the above, doubtless to their entire satisfaction, that the members of ancient cabinets were not a whit behind the moderns, in their capability for wearing coats with two sides to them.) Hushai's counsel was, of course, preferred by Absalom, as it secured his father's life for the present. And he expressed his determination to receive it before that of Ahithophel. The first counsellor was alarmed. He saw clearly that delay, in the present crisis, was certain destruction to all hope of success, and he attempted to explain his views. But his explanations were disregarded; and when, upon his dropping unguardedly some disrespectful expressions, Absalom dismissed him from his presence, he left the council-chamber with the fullest conviction that fortyeight hours would reseat David on the throne which his son had usurped. Let us follow the disappointed man, for a few moments. He went to his home. None, but the banished archangel, when he saw the walls of heaven close him eternally out, ever felt as did then the counsellor. In his ambition, he had towered to hea A FEW days passed away, and the morrow came that morrow which, as we have said, was to decide the fate of Absalom and the kingdom. The rebel troops, under command of Absalom himhad, the night before, withdrawn his forces from the self, had marched to the forest of Ephraim. David plain into the city of Mahanaim. But when, in the forest, he drew out his army in three divisions, and morning, he saw the rebel host encamped near the under three commanders. Before he sent them to the battle-field, however, he gave them strict charge, (as they would not consent that he should accompany them,) that, if possible, Absalom should be taken alive, and be treated kindly. The armies approached each other, that of the rebels most numerous, that of the king best disciplined and the battle was joined. The issue could not long remain doubtful. Discipline prevailed over numbers, and the rebels were beaten with immense slaughter. It was not till he saw that, for the present, all was ven, and his disappointment was proportioned to his irretrievably lost, that Absalom would follow his-flyfall. The lofty destiny which had seemed to awaiting troops. And then it was with many a backward and invite him, was changed in a moment, and O, look, that he fled from his victorious enemies. And how changed! once, as he turned to look at those behind him, his The disappointments of love bear no comparison with those of ambition. Indeed, they are not of the same kind. Love is a refined-almost an effeminate emotion, which enters but seldom the breasts of those who make thrones and crowns their play things. Disappointed love carries in its very bitterness, a gentle. ness which not unfrequently forgives the author of its misery. Disappointed ambition would, like the archfiend, spend, if possible, an eternity in revenge. Ab Ahithophel knew that his revenge was sure. salom would be defeated. But that would not restore to him the promise of that kingly power which he had, but an hour since, almost within his grasp To him the present gave no enjoyment, the future no hope. To what end did he now live? He would live no longer. He set his house in order; and, in the very hour wherein he had hoped to wield the power of Judea's sceptre, his own hands prepared for himself the ignominious grave of a suicide. And here endeth the history of the ambitious Counsellor. guided mule passed under an oak whose thick boughs extended so low as to entangle the person of the prince. A violent effort to disengage himself only entangled him the more, and, as the frightened mule fled from under him, he was left suspended between earth and heaven. Many soldiers passed him, but they remembered the injunctions of David, and, satisfied that he could not extricate himself, left him uninjured. At length Absalom saw one approaching, whom he recognized but too well, and from whom he knew what to expect. Joab came nearer, and a fiendish smile of mortal hatred glimmered over his dark features, as he saw his enemy at last within his power. In that look the prince read his own fate, but he was too proud to ask that mercy which he could not expect from his deadliest foe. He turned away his face, and at that moment, with a muttered curse, Joab threw three darts in rapid succession, with a force and precision which drove them through the very heart of Absalom. The ill-fated young prince uttered no word, but a smothered groan escaped him, and had any one been near his lips, he would have heard a name whispered, the name of one whom Absalom loved more than life, and whom he could not forget-even in death. The hands relaxed their convulsed grasp on the branches of the tree-the limbs hung loosely from the body-and a heart ceased to throb, which, though misguided and wrong, was noble as ever beat in hu- here, and without whom, even the hereafter which man form, A corpse hung in the oak. her religion recognized could give no promise of bliss It was noontide. The king sat at one of the gates of the city-wall, awaiting anxiously news from the battle. A watchman stood on the wall, and as he looked, he saw a messenger coming across the plain toward the city;-and so he told the king. The messenger approached swiftly, and stood before the mo narch. "Speak," said David. When the prince left her, and left with her the secret of the proposed revolution, he little thought what a tissue of hopes and fears he had woven round her heart. Raphar heard of the rebellion, but so short a time elapsed between its commencement and close, that there was no necessity for any action on his part. He had waited the issue with, it must be confessed, wishes for Absalom's success, of which in "Glad tidings, my lord, the rebels are defeated,-"deed he had no doubt when he saw the universal "And the young man, Absalom," interrupted the movement in his favor. And the news of the defeat king anxiously, "is he safe?" and death of the prince came very unexpectedly. "May all the enemies of my lord the king be as that young man is," said the messenger. The king rose from his seat, and as he walked towards his palace, he said, "O my son, Absalom! would God I had died for thee! O Absalom! my son! my son !" But there was one to whom the death of Absalom was a heavier stroke than to the king. It would be strange, if it were not so common, that, in a world where are so many dark passions, there should exist a tie like that love which will bind two persons-strangers-more closely to each other, than nature can bind the nearest relatives. If David, in his regret for the son, could forgive and lament the guilty though misguided Absalom, what must be Yehainah's thoughts and feelings, at the loss of one in whom centered her all of happiness It was on the evening after the battle, that the ambassador was sitting in the court in the centre of his tents. His daughter was beside him. A menial entered. "My lord," said he, "the messenger who was sent to Mahanaim has returned." What is the news?" The rebels are defeated, my lord, and the young prince Absalom is slain." The shriek that burst from the lips of Yehainah reminded the ambassador of what he had at that moment forgotten, that his daughter was present. But the mischief was done. A few weeks of fever and delirium followed, and then the victim of a broken heart sank into that grave, which was to her truly a resting place. For to her, happiness of earth had been" weighed in the balance, and found wanting." |