Was the voice of the crowd 'til the Rabbi arose,
Then at once every sound was hush'd into repose.
Bent was his form, but more with care than age,
Sorrow had worn the furrows in his face;
Yet in the features of the revered sage
Somewhat of youthful ardour might you trace,
As the old oak that's hollow'd out by time
Seems to retain the vigour of its prime,

"Men of Israel," he said, with a proud flashing eye,
"This night doth Jehovah command us to die
The death of the brave, for the laws that He gave,
Leave bondage and chains for the coward and slave!
What is our crime, O what is the deed,

1

For which so many are doom'd to bleed?
Strangers-alike through every clime we are hurl'd,
Through every land our seed is spread abroad-
Scorn'd and despised, the outcasts of the world,
Yet still the chosen people of our God!
We asked these Britons for a home,
A shelter from the inclement skies:
Have we despoiled a Christian dome,
Or sought a Christian sacrifice?
We did but ask a dwelling place,
And in return our wealth we gave;
They spurn'd us as an outcast race,
And brand us with the name of slave:
They hate us, for we seek to tread
The peaceful path our fathers trod;
They hate us, for we bow our heads
Before the shrine of Israel's God;
And now because we sought to bring
A tribute to their new crown'd king,
Like savage beasts they hunt us down,
Their streets with Jewish dead are strewn;
And they who can boast of mercy and love,
And picture their God in the form of a dove,

Are athirst for our blood, our possession they crave!
But the wealth we have toiled for, they never shall

have

While there's fire on the hearthstone or sword in the hall,

By the hand of each other 'tis better to fall:

There have been times, and this is such a time,

When even suicide is not a crime:

Behold how your wives and your children are clinging

Around ye, and pray for a morsel of bread,

While the cold heartless wretches beneath have been flinging

Profusion away, and they carelessly tread

On the food that your wives and your children would

save

From the pangs of starvation-the jaws of the grave!
Then shall such monsters triumph o'er us?
They think that yield to them we must,
Where'er we turn, there's death before us;
We cannot to their mercy trust,
We cannot on their faith rely,
Then let us see our dear ones die;
Thus, thus will we defy our foes,
By our own hands they all shall bleed,
Their blood be on the heads of those
Who goaded us to such a deed.
The husband turneth to his wife,
The lover to his lov'd doth cling-
To raise an arm against the life
Of woman, is a fearful thing!
Aye, so it is: but I have here
A stake that is to me as dear,
The solace of my widow'd years,
The object of my fondest cares."
He pointed where there stood apart
Watching the chosen one of her heart,
A maiden passing fair;

Her raven hair was backward flung,
And on her brow of snow there hung
A dark cloud of despair,

Ah! little did poor Rachel deem

When in her spirits first bright dream
With beaming eyes and flushing brow
She listened to Manasseh's vow,
That such a fearful hour as this
Would ever blight her dream of bliss.
She was Ben Israel's only child,
A child of one long passed away,
And he upon their loves had smil'd,
And gladly named the bridal day.

He glanc'd his eyes around, as he paused,

To mark the effect which his words had caused:
The men sat silent, and scarce drew breath,
As they heard the decree that doom'd them to death.
The mother convulsively press'd to her heart
The lov'd babe from whom she so soon was to part.
The matron seem'd bound by a holier tie..

To the lord of her heart, with whom she must die.
None murmured a sound-save a few who sate
At the end of the hall, in deep debate;
The quivering limb and downcast eye
Told they were cowards who fear'd to die.
At length Ben Ephraim rose and spoke,
And at once the death-like silence broke:-
"Ben Israel," he said, "'tis a dread decree,
For we might once again be free:
We might bribe the foemen our lives to save,
And snatch our little ones from the grave."
Ben Israel rose, and dash'd the trace
Of the tears from off his rugged face
(Which had gathered there, in spite of his pride)
Then turn'd to the coward and thus replied:
"Seek ye for mercy? ask yon man of blood
(Who dares to call himself a priest of God),
For mercy! and ye will such mercy find
As the pursuing huntsman gives the hind;
Such mercy as the hapless bird may seek
When closely clutch'd within the vulture's beak!
In yonder blood-stained city did they spare
The brave, the ag'd, the youthful, or the fair?

No! babes from their mother's breasts were torn,
And their dying shrieks on the air were bornę;
Nor did they heed the father's accents wild, --
Entreating them to save his darling child;

But hew'd them down like cattle, where they stood,
And wash'd out their religion in their blood!
Women of Israel! would ye not rather
Fall by the hand of a husband or father,
Than brave the insults that await

Ye, when they force the castle gate?
When the Israelites echoed the Maccabees' cry
As they raised the Asmonean banner on high,
They stayed not to think upon danger or death,
But glorified God with their last fainting breath,
And left in their country's annals a name

That will ne'er be erased from the records of fame.
Then think on the glorious dead

Of ages long gone by;

Think on the cause for which they bled,

And like them dare to die;

For the laws which our God to his prophet reveal'd, Yes! our faith in their truth, with our blood must be

seal'd.

3

Depart! all ye who would be slaves,

Nor dare disturb our latest breath:
Depart! and leave the glorious graves
For those who prefer to apostacy-Death.".
A few of the weaker and cowardly-hearted,
Rose from their seats at his words and departed.
All became silent then around,

The very children hush'd their crying;

In that vast hall there was not a sound,

As Ben Israel read the prayers for the dying.
He ceased:-Five hundred voices raise

To heaven's high throne the hymns of praise,
And ever as the echoes rung,

The self-devoted victims sung-Halleluyah!

MARION AND CELIA MOss.

The Harvesting of the Roses
FROM his garden bed our Lord

Blossoms for his pleasure chose,
Who came to gather many a rose.
Nobles waited for his word;
Amidst the rage of murderous blows
They were in death to him restored.

66

MENAHEM BEN JACOB.

A Martyr's Death

WHERE is now Elijah's God?"

WH

When will scoff and scorning end?

Has our God forsaken us?

Higher and higher,

Winged by fire,

Soared Elijah's sainted soul,

Bliss to earn in spheres of life.

He saw his brethren sorely tried,

And died for them a martyr's death.

MENAHEM BEN JACOB.

The Jewish Martyr

"BRING forth the Jew!" Ben Hassim said, “the

caitiff of his creed,

Who has reviled our holy faith, and triumphed in the

deed;

Blaspheming great Mahomet's name-by Allah! he

shall die;

Upon his own accursed head the blasphemy shall lie. Woe unto thee, thou Jewish dog! if thou fail to clear

the guilt

That is preferred against thee-deny it, if thou wilt! But decided proof of innocence must in clearest light be shown

Or, by Medina's holy shrine, the flame shall have her

own.

How say you, son of Israel, to the charge that's now

preferr'd?