“AND now,"said Aunt Edith, after Charley and May had been giving her a full and particular account of their week in the country,"I must tell you something.”
“What is it?" said Charley; "you have not been away.”
“And so I can have nothing to tell, you think. Well, though have been staying quietly at home, certain tales concerning travelers have reached my ears, and one of them is about the pleasant talkings and readings grandmamma and her dear grandchildren had together. A little bird told me that she liked them very much; what do the children say?”
“Oh, we had the best times of all with grandmamma," said May; “we were going to tell you, Aunt Edith, for those talks with her were a little like a great many we have had with you; though we generally read to grandmamma, yet she often let us stop and ask questions, and speak of what we had been reading.”
“And what books did you read, May?”
“Only one besides the Bible, all about a Jew boy, Isaac—what was his other name, Charley?”
“Levinsohn," said Charley.
“Oh, yes, Isaac Levinsohn. He was a Russian boy, Auntie, who is not much more than twenty now; so, you see, he tells about things among his people just as they are at this time, and that makes it more interesting. Isaac had a good Jew for his father, one who fasted every Monday and Thursday, as the Pharisees did; and he wanted his son to be a learned and wise man, so he gave him to the charge of a rabbi, who taught him all that a Jewish boy ought to know.”
“And he thought more of his rabbi than of his own parents," said Charley, "for he says that quite as much as the words of the Bible, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother,’ he respected the words of the Oral Law, which says, ‘The fear of the rabbi is as the fear of God.’ They call the Oral Law the Talmud now, and after awhile Isaac's rabbi tried to make him give up the Bible and read nothing but the Talmud; and he studied so hard that, when he was ten years old, he passed an examination before several rabbis, and they were all pleased with him, and said he might become one himself when he was grown up.”
“But did he give up reading the Bible—I mean, of course, the Old Testament?”
“No, Auntie. Isaac loved the Bible much better than the Talmud, which was only like a lesson-book to him, and a very hard lesson-book too; and so he used to read it at night and early in the morning; then he used to go to the synagogue, with his phylacteries on, to pray, and he tried to serve God in the way his rabbi told him.”
“But one thing made him unhappy all the time," said Charley; "he was always thinking about his sins. He did not so much mind when he was a little boy, because he was told that his father would bear his sins for him until he was thirteen; still he kept thinking what he, should do when the day came on which he should begin to bear his own sins. He had a very unhappy thirteenth birthday, for, when he said, ‘Father, won't you bear my sins a little longer—even a month longer?’ his father said, ‘No, my son; you must bear them yourself now, I can do no more for you.’”
And his rabbi, too, could teach him, but he could not bear his sins for him," said May; "and so at last, Aunt Edith, what do you think happened?”
“I am sure I cannot tell, unless God taught him, by His word, to know One who had done for him what his father and his rabbi could never do.”
“He did go on reading the Bible," said Charley, "and one day he read how God had called Abraham to go out from his country and his kindred. The more he thought of it, the more sure he felt that God was calling him in the same way, and at last he made up his mind to go away from his father's house, as Abraham did, and he told his parents that he must leave them; for, perhaps, he might find peace away from home.”
“Poor boy; and did he really go?”
“Yes; his parents could not bear to part with him, but when they saw that his heart was set on going, they gave him their blessing, and away he went, all by himself, to travel from Russia to Germany. His father wrote him a parting letter, bidding him keep his phylacteries perfect, and keep the oral and written laws.”
“And did no one befriend him on his travels, May?”
“I can't remember very much, Aunt Edith, but I know that he often had not enough to eat—sometimes he lived upon potatoes, which he took from the fields as he passed along—and he grew more and more unhappy until, after he got to Germany, as he was wandering about, he even thought of killing himself.”
“But there are so many Jews in Germany. Did he not find any of his own people who would be kind to a poor lonely boy from a strange country?”
“Some Jews were kind to him," said Charley, "especially one family who had known his mother, but, when he spoke of what was troubling him, no one understood him. At Hamburg he went into the synagogue to pray, and he rejoiced when he saw the holy ark at the east end, with a beautiful veil hanging over it, and upon the veil the name JEHOVAH in letters of gold: he approached quite near to pray, and then felt much happier.”
“But he was soon unhappy again," said May, "for, when he went to the inn, they put him to sleep in a room where there was no little box over the doorpost—they ought to put a box with some passages of Scripture in it, a sort of phylactery, over the doorpost, to remind them of how the blood of the Passover lamb was put upon their doorposts in Egypt. Isaac could not sleep in that room, so he asked leave to change to one where there was a box over the door.”
“But you have not told me how he made himself understood, now he was in Germany; did he speak German?”
“I think he got on pretty well in Germany, Aunt Edith," said Charley, "but when he came to England, he did not know what to do. Do you remember, May, how he went to a shop in London, and said, ‘Gib mir a pen,’ because he thought he could write better than speak?”
“Oh yes, and how whenever he met a Jew, even in London, he saluted him, and said, ‘Peace be unto you.’”
“Poor boy, it must have had a friendly sound to him, that familiar greeting, in a strange country!”
“Very soon after he came to London he met with a German who had been a Jew. Mr. Stern—for that was his name—noticed his sad look, and said to him, ‘Are you a Jew, my brother?’ Then Isaac told him all his story, and found that he, too, had once left his home and his country to find rest for his soul.”
“Was not that wonderful, Auntie?" said May. "I am sure God must have let them meet; for Rabbi Stern, as Isaac called him, was a Christian now, and he could show him the true way.”
“And he was so much surprised when Mr. Stern showed him those verses in the fifty-third of Isaiah, and other chapters—he did not know what to think; but still he was glad to go to Rabbi Stern's house, and he loved him, and felt towards him as if he were a great prophet like Elijah, yet he did not like to hear him always saying, ‘Believe in the Messiah.’”
“But very soon he did begin to trust in Jesus,” said May, "and he wrote to his father, saying
“I heard a sweet, unknown voice say
'Come unto Me and rest;
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down
Thy head upon My breast.'
I suppose he did not wish to mention the name of Jesus to his father, knowing that it would only offend him, and so he changed the first line of the hymn. Still he did speak of Him, for he said that the words of the Messiah, ‘Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest,’ seemed just to suit one who was so weary and worn out as he was.",
"What did his father say?”
“Oh, he begged him not to listen to the Christians, but to hold fast what he had been taught from his childhood. He said he must not believe that the Messiah had come, but that He would come; ‘Our eyes are sightless,’ he said, ‘with crying for the Messiah, who ought to have come long ago, and would have come, but for the sin of Israel.’”
“But Isaac wrote back to his father," said May, "those very words from Isaiah which Jesus read in the synagogue at Nazareth, when He ‘stood up for to read,’ and he said that those words gave the character of the Messiah as Rabbi Stern spoke of Him, and that he was quite sure that if the Christian religion were not the true religion, then the Bible itself could not be true.”
“You see, Aunt Edith," said Charley, all this time he had been reading about the Messiah in the Old Testament—he had not once seen a New Testament; but now his friend gave him one, and as he read it, it seemed just like a key to unlock all the hard things which he had not understood before, and the next time he wrote home he said, ‘The Messiah has come, and I believe in Him.’”
“But did he also learn," said Aunt Edith, "that the Messiah who had come had died to be his Savior, and did he indeed find rest?”
“Oh, yes," said May, "he did indeed. He found that even the love of his dear parents was nothing like the love of Jesus; they could not help him, though they would have given their lives for him, but the Lord Jesus made him quite happy, and was his friend when his parents forsook him.”
“They were dreadfully angry," said Charley, "when they found that their son had really become a Christian. His father and mother and sister all wrote to him, begging him not to break their hearts and bring them to shame by becoming a disciple of the Nazarene; for, you know, they thought Jesus was only a man, and a wicked man, who had deceived many people. When they found they could not turn Isaac away from his faith, they said he was no longer their son, that they once had a dear son Isaac, but now they knew him no more.”
“Wasn't it dreadful, Auntie? And all the letters which he wrote came back to him, for no one at his home would take them from the postman, and they just counted him dead.”
“He must indeed have been in need of comfort, May.”
“You remember that verse in the Psalm, Aunt Edith—‘When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up?’”
“Yes, I remember, Charley.”
“Those words were the greatest comfort to Isaac. He had often read them before, and repeated them when he said the Psalms through, as his old rabbi taught him to do; but now they seemed quite fresh, as if he had never seen them before, and he was happier than he had ever been. I remember," he continued, "one thing which he said, to show how happy he was, ‘Above all, why I believe in Jesus is because I feel that the yearning of my soul He has silenced.’”
“That is very beautiful," said his aunt. "I am, glad," she continued, "that you have been able to remember, and bring home for me to share it with you, such an interesting story of the way in which this young Jew was brought to believe that the One who grew up as a child in His lowly home at Nazareth was indeed the Son of God, the wonderful One of whom the prophets had spoken; and that the Man of Sorrows, despised and rejected of men, was the One who had borne his griefs and carried his sorrows, by whose stripes he was healed.”
“Now that we have told you all that we can remember," said May, "perhaps, Auntie, you will not mind telling us a little about the clothes people used to wear long ago in Palestine. The disciples were told not to put on two coats, but I should have thought in such a hot country they would be glad to wear as little as possible.”
“And I want to understand about the fringes," said Charley, "those fringes which they wore at the four corners.”
“I shall be glad to tell you all I can," replied their aunt, "but we do not know very much certainly, and can only imagine what the dress in old times may have been from noticing what is now worn by the Arabs.”
“I have often wondered what the mantle of Elijah was like," said May.
“Then I am sure you will be surprised to hear," replied her aunt, "that it was probably merely the skin of a sheep or goat with the wool on; such sheep-skin cloaks are still worn in the East, where the changes from heat to cold are much more sudden than we should imagine. It has been thought that this rough outer garment was generally worn by a prophet, as in some way characteristic of his office. Zechariah speaks of the time when the ‘prophets shall be ashamed... neither shall they wear a rough garment to deceive’; and the Lord warned His disciples to ‘beware of false prophets, which come in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.’”
“And John the Baptist was clothed with raiment of camel's hair," said Charley; "was that part of the skin of a camel?”
“I think not; it must have been a coarse cloth not unlike the sackcloth worn by mourners, which was woven from the rough shaggy hair of the camel; for of the fine hair a cloth of beautifully soft texture was made.”
“I suppose woolen cloths must have been worn in the very early times, because all the people kept sheep.”
“You are right, May; sheep-shearing is spoken of in the Book of Genesis.”
“Then I wonder whether all the dresses were of the same color, just white; though, I forget, there must have been black sheep too.”
“I believe black sheep are now very uncommon in Palestine, though brown ones are often seen there. Scarlet thread is mentioned in Genesis, so you need not imagine the dresses of the patriarchs as having been all white or brown.”
“Then there was Joseph's coat of many, colors, Auntie. Do you know, long ago I used to think it must have been made of patchwork, in some splendid pattern!”
“There is some doubt whether the coat which Jacob gave to his best-loved son, and which was brought back to him stained with blood, was ‘of many colors’—the word describing it may be translated, we are told, ‘a long coat with sleeves’—but we have abundant proof that the art of dyeing was known to the Israelites before they went into Egypt, in which country they are believed to have learned how to weave linen, for the ‘fine linen’ of Egypt was very celebrated.”
“When we went to that lecture the other day," said Charley, "there was something said about that, and also about how the Jews were forbidden to wear a dress made of wool and linen mixed. We saw the dress worn by an Arab now, and as you say, things have altered so little, I can fancy what the ancient dresses must have been like better than by only hearing you tell about them. I should think men could not do much work if they always went about with such long robes, like dressing-gowns, trailing after them.”
“I think you know more than I do about the dresses, Charley, for I have never seen any of them; but I will tell you what I have read on the subject, for a knowledge of what purpose the different garments served helps to make some passages of Scripture plainer. The word translated ‘coat’ does not mean the outer garment, as with us, but the inner one, rather like our shirt or vest, but much longer. This was made of wool, or linen, and was girt round the waist, so as to fold over, and this fold made a pocket. A man who was clad only in this inner garment was spoken of as ‘naked,’ as Peter was when he girt his fisher's coat about him and cast himself into the sea to meet the Lord. Over this inner tunic another was often worn. May was surprised that the disciples should have been told not to put on two coats, but it was usual, when on a journey, to wear two of these inner garments, and they added very little to the heat.”
“Yes, I understand now, Aunt Edith; I shall never think again that a ‘coat’ in the Bible means a heavy, warm thing like a great-coat; but what was the outer garment like? The Arab's dress which we saw seemed like a rug more than anything else; didn't it, Charley?”
“Just like a square woolen rug or plaid; was that girt, too, Aunt Edith?”
“Yes, this outer garment, being long, and worn over the shoulders, with the ends, to which the fringes were attached, hanging down in front, was girded so as to form a second pocket; the words ‘good measure ... shall men give into your bosom’ apply to the habit of carrying things in the fold of the robe. You can easily see, Charley, that while this heavy mantle was left at home by a man when at work—‘he that is in the field,’ our Lord said, in allusion to this, 'let him not return back to take his clothes'—or thrown off when in haste, as by the blind man who ‘cast away his garment as he rose and came to Jesus,’ it was necessary for a man when on a journey, if any energetic action were required, to gird his long loose robe tightly about him; the expression ‘girded loins,’ therefore, gives the idea of perfect readiness for immediate action, all that would hinder it being removed.”
“I remember," said Charley, "how those men who stoned Stephen laid clown their clothes—that must have been their outer dress—‘at a young man's feet whose name was Saul,’ and how St. Paul afterward said that he was consenting unto his death, and kept the raiment of them that slew him.”
“Then it says that Elijah girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab's chariot," said May, "and you know when Elisha sent Gehazi on before him, to lay his staff upon the face of the Shunamite's child, he said ‘Gird up thy loins, and go.’”
“And the angel said to Peter, ‘Gird thyself, and bind on thy sandals,’" added Charley. "I suppose, Aunt Edith, the hats which the three children wore in the burning fiery furnace were turbans, such as the Arabs wear now?”
“I was reading some time ago, Charley, that learned men believe that the ‘hosen’ and ‘hats’, mentioned in that wonderful chapter in the Book of Daniel answer, the one to the inner and the other to the outer garment worn by the Hebrews. If this is the case, it is interesting as showing that the captive Jews were still allowed to wear their own dress; but what, it most concerns us to know, in connection with the clothes of these faithful young men, is that so complete was their deliverance from the devouring flame that even the smell of fire had not passed upon them.”
“I was thinking," said May, "of how, when the Lord Jesus came riding into Jerusalem, the people cast their garments in the way; now I understand that they only took off those loose rugs, and were quite dressed without them. Was it the custom, when they wanted to do honor to a person? You know how Sir Walter Raleigh laid down his cloak for Queen Elizabeth to walk upon it.”
“It was and still is done in the East, as a mark of respect, or of desire to welcome a great man. I remember reading that "the crowds at Bethlehem threw their garments under the feet of the English Consul, whose aid they were imploring.”
“When Jonathan gave David so many things, after his return from the slaughter of the giant," said Charley, "his girdle is mentioned, with his sword and his bow, as if it were the chief part of his dress. I suppose it was a very grand one. Do they still wear girdles in the East?”
“I believe they are worn by both men and women. The girdle was made of linen, often richly embroidered, and one end of it, being turned back, formed a purse.”
“The disciples we're told not to take money in their purses," interrupted May.
“The word there used means ‘girdles,’" said her aunt, "and just illustrates this use of the fold formed by tucking in the end of the long piece of cloth which has been wrapped round the waist. I should have told you," she continued, "that the priests' girdles were made of linen, worked with scarlet, purple, and blue.”
“‘No scrip,’" repeated Charley, thoughtfully. "What was that, Aunt Edith?”
“A wallet for food. I have seen one of those used by the shepherds in the Lebanon district, which was merely the skin of a kid, slung at the side.”
“I daresay David's scrip, into which he put the smooth pebbles from the brook, was just like that," said May. "Then the disciples were to be shod with sandals, not shoes. I don't quite understand the difference.”
“Oh, a sandal is only a shoe for the soles of the feet," said Charley. "Made of wood, isn't it, Aunt Edith? You know, May, the monks, long ago, always wore sandals, unless they went barefoot.”
“Sandals, such as were worn by the poor in the East, were made of wood, or leather, fastened by strong thongs over the instep; this thong, or lace, was called the latchet. The office of carrying and unfastening, the sandals of great men fell to the meanest of their slaves.”
“And that was what John the Baptist said he was not worthy to do for Christ, because he knew that, although He might look like a poor man, He was the Son of God," said May. “I always thought” she continued, "that a latchet must be a sort of clasping thing, like the latch of a door”
“It simply means a little lace, May. You must remember, what I told you of the custom of taking off the sandals, or slippers, upon entering a house. They were given to a servant to ‘bear,’ and you can form some idea of how menial an office that of unfastening them was accounted, when I tell you that there is a saying signifying that all services which a servant does for his master a disciple does in like manner for his teacher, except unloosing the shoes.”
“When it says that Mary wrapped the Child Jesus in swaddling clothes, what does that mean—a long robe?”
“No, May, it refers to the custom of the country of fastening wrappings of linen tightly around the body of an infant, so that the legs and arms were confined.”
“I am sure our baby may be glad that he was not born in the East, for he does so love to kick his little legs about, and to clap his hands. Can you tell us how the older children were dressed, Aunt Edith?
“I have read that, when they were three years old, they put on, for the first time, the fringed outer garment.”
“Oh, now you are coming to the fringes," said Charley; "will you tell us about them?”
“We find in the Book of Deuteronomy that God commanded every Israelite to wear at each corner of his upper garment a fringe, or tassel, of blue; two ‘fringes’ hung down at the bottom of the dress, and one at the shoulder, where it was fastened. It is thought that the ‘hem’ of our Lord's garment, which was touched by the poor woman of whom we read in the gospels, was one of these fringes. I should tell you that the Pharisees were very particular about the number of threads of which their fringes were composed; they wished them to correspond with the number of precepts which they reckoned that the Law contained.”
“But God gave His people the fringes at first to remind them that they belonged to Him; I remember hearing that explained once," said Charley. "I suppose," he added, "when the soldiers ‘parted the raiment’ of Christ after they had crucified Him, the ‘coat,’ which was without seam, for which they cast lots, must have been that inner garment of which you were telling us.”
“Yes, Charley, and it is thought that the prophecy concerning the ‘parting of the garments’ of our blessed Lord was fulfilled by the four soldiers dividing among them, perhaps by loosening the seams, the large square outer garment. By-and-by, when you are able to read the New Testament in the language in which it was written, you will find that there are different words used for these outer and inner garments, and I pope you will always remember that every ‘little’ difference, as we should call it, is of very great importance, and should be carefully noticed when we are reading the Bible.”