Stories of the Prophets (Before the Exile) | Page 4

through a triumphal arch of stone and marble, the procession
was met by hundreds of maidens and children, clothed in linen and
gold, who led the way, singing and strewing flowers in the path of the
heroes.
A turn in the street led to the market-place. Here had been built a great
triumphal arch of ivory and gold, beyond which was an altar, specially
erected for the occasion.
Passing through the arch, Amaziah and Jeroboam mounted the steps
that led to the altar. All the rest remained below. When the priest and
the king faced the people the singing and the shouting ceased. With due
ceremony, and according to the rites, the king brought a thanks-offering
to God for his victories and his safe return. When Amaziah placed the
sacrifice upon the altar a deep hush fell over the great assembly.
Slowly the smoke of the sacrifice rose to heaven, and the multitude of
people, like one man, fell on their knees and worshiped.
Jeroboam was deeply moved. Solemnly he raised his right hand, and,
from the depths of his grateful heart, he said:
"Peace to the house of Israel!"
Like the rumble of a mighty wave rolling toward the shore came the
response from the sea of worshiping people:

"To the house of Israel, peace!"
For one whole week after Jeroboam's triumphant entry into the capital,
Samaria was a place of feasting and rejoicing. When, by command of
the king, the celebration came to an end and the people began to return
to their homes, each one, on leaving the city's gates, repeated to himself
the now answered prayer of over a century:
"Peace to the house of Israel! To the house of Israel, peace!"

CHAPTER II.
_In the Days of Prosperity._
It was market day in Samaria.
Great throngs of people crowded all the streets. They jostled each other
good naturedly, traded, bargained, renewed acquaintanceship, spoke of
their home towns and expressed the hope of meeting again.
The market place itself, where the many bazaars displayed wonderful
merchandise from many cities and many lands, was an especially lively
place. It was gay with life and color. Gilded chariots and
ivory-bedecked litters passed to and fro. Heralds announced
particularly important personages and escorts and cleared a way for
them with whip or spear. Military men and merchant princes, with
many followers, often scattered the smaller merchants and petty traders
in their path through the market. Many were caught under the wheels of
the vehicles of the rich when they did not get out of the way quickly
enough. Others were purposely thrust aside by the wealthy aristocrats
simply to show their disdain.
It was a typical Samarian market day--crowds and noise; buying and
selling; idle rich and drudging poor; haughty military grandees, in their
resplendent attires, and cowed, miserable beggars in their rags; color
and laughter at the bazaars, and tears and sorrow at the auction block

just across the way--always crowds and always noise.
The auctioneer was shouting above the general din the good points of a
man who had just been placed on the block.
"To be sold till the Jubilee Year," he cried. "How much am I bid?"
A clerk read the court's decree that this man was to be sold for debt. It
was signed by the judges, who sat in the East Gate of Samaria. The
document was a cold, formal statement. It did not take into account the
reason why this man, in the full vigor of manhood, had fallen into debt.
His creditors had pushed the poor fellow hard for their money. He
could not pay. He pleaded with the judges that the sickness of his wife
and children had reduced him to direst need, but it was without avail.
He could not pay his debts and must work them off as a slave for seven
years; that was the decree of the court. After seven years he would be a
free man again. Cases like this were very common.
The keen eye of the auctioneer noted a man at the far edge of the
platform who had made several attempts as if to bid during the sale. He
was a middle-aged man, tall and thin, but wiry. His face was bronzed
from exposure to sun and wind. He wore a long woolen mantel that
completely covered him, even to the sandals on his feet.
"How much am I bid?" The auctioneer spoke the question directly to
this country yokel, while he winked at the crowd in front of him. He
thought that the fellow who came to the market clad in such clothes,
instead of his Sabbath best, had little money with him to buy a slave,
and less use for one. So he spoke the question again to the "farmer,"
expecting