r," he said, in a grateful way. "And I
will never be done saying so. Shammai could not have talked better,
nor Hillel. I am a true son of Israel again."

"Flatterer!" she said. "You do not know that I am but repeating
what I heard Hillel say in an argument he had one day in my
presence with a sophist from Rome."

"Well, the hearty words are yours."

Directly all her earnestness returned.

"Where was I? Oh yes, I was claiming for our Hebrew fathers the
first statues. The trick of the sculptor, Judah, is not all there
is of art, any more than art is all there is of greatness. I always
think of great men marching down the centuries in groups and goodly
companies, separable according to nationalities; here the Indian,
there the Egyptian, yonder the Assyrian; above them the music of
trumpets and the beauty of banners; and on their right hand and
left, as reverent spectators, the generations from the beginning,
numberless. As they go, I think of the Greek, saying, 'Lo! The
Hellene leads the way.' Then the Roman replies, 'Silence! what
was your place is ours now; we have left you behind as dust
trodden on.' And all the time, from the far front back over
the line of march, as well as forward into the farthest future,
streams a light of which the wranglers know nothing, except that
it is forever leading them on--the Light of Revelation! Who are
they that carry it? Ah, the old Judean blood! How it leaps at the
thought! By the light we know them. Thrice blessed, O our fathers,
servants of God, keepers of the covenants! Ye are the leaders of
men, the living and the dead. The front is thine; and though every
Roman were a Caesar, ye shall not lose it!"

Judah was deeply stirred.

"Do not stop, I pray you," he cried. "You give me to hear the
sound of timbrels. I wait for Miriam and the women who went
after her dancing and singing."

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

"Very well, my son. If you can hear the timbrel of the prophetess,
you can do what I was about to ask; you can use your fancy, and stand
with me, as if by the wayside, while the chosen of Israel pass us at
the head of the procession. Now they come--the patriarchs first;
next the fathers of the tribes. I almost hear the bells of their
camels and the lowing of their herds. Who is he that walks alone
between the companies? An old man, yet his eye is not dim, nor his
natural force abated. He knew the Lord face to face! Warrior, p