Part 39 (1/2)
Truly I have known other holidays; yet never one that took me out of so much hara.s.sment and perplexity. And I could not get rid of all my burdens, even in Palestine; but somehow I got rid of all my anxious trouble about them. I had left behind so much, that I accepted even thankfully all that remained. I was free from mamma's schemes for me, and cleared from the pursuit of those who seconded her schemes; they could not follow me in the Holy Land. No more angry discussions of affairs at home, and words of enmity and fierce displeasure toward the part of the nation that held my heart. No more canva.s.sing of war news; not much hearing of them, even; a clean escape from the demands of society and leisure for a time to look into my heart and see what condition it was in. And to my great astonishment I had found the love of admiration and the ambition of womanly vanity beginning to stir again; in me, who knew better things, and who really did not value these; in me, who had so much to make me sober and keep down thoughts of folly. I found that I had a certain satisfaction when entering a room, to know that the sight of me gave pleasure; yes, more; I liked to feel that the sight of no one else gave so much pleasure. I could hardly understand, when I came to look at it, how so small a satisfaction could have taken possession of my mind; I was very much ashamed; but the fact remained. When we set sail for Palestine I got clear, at least for the time, from all this. I hoped for ever. - And it was exceedingly sweet to find myself alone with papa.
How mamma ever consented to the plan, I do not know. Because papa had settled it and given his word, perhaps; for in those cases I know she never interfered; necessity made her yield.
She would not go with us; she went to Paris, where Aunt Gary was come for the winter. Ransom went home to join the army; and papa and I took our holiday. I ought not to have been so happy, with so many causes of anxiety on my mind; Ransom in the war on one side, and Christian already engaged on the opposite side; both in danger, not to speak of other friends whom I knew; and my own and Mr. Thorold's future so very dark to look forward to. But I was happy. I believe, the very enormous pressure of things to trouble me, helped me to throw off the weight. In fact, it was too heavy for me to bear. I had trusted and given up myself to G.o.d; it was not a mock trust or submission; I laid off my cares, or in the expressive Bible words, ”rolled them” upon him. And then I went light.
Even my self-spoken sentence, the declaration that I ought not to marry a person who was not a Christian, did not crush me as I thought it would. Somebody has said very truly, ”There is a healing power in truth.” It is correct in more ways than one.
And especially in truth towards G.o.d, in whole-hearted devotion to him, or as the Bible says again, in ”wholly following the Lord,” there is strength and healing; ”quietness and a.s.surance for ever.” I was no nearer despair now than I had been before.
And I was more ready for my holiday.
My holiday began on board the steamer, among the novel varieties of character and costume by which I found myself surrounded. I was certainly getting far away from the American war, far from Parisian saloons; I could not even regret the Dome of Florence. And I shall never forget the minute when I first looked upon the coast of Jaffa. I had been in the cabin and papa called me; and with the sight, a full, delicious sensation of pleasure entered my heart, and never left it, I think, while I stayed in the land. The picture is all before me. The little white town, s.h.i.+ning in the western sun on its hill, with its foot in the water; the surf breaking on the rocks; and the long line of high land in the distance, which I knew was the hill country of Palestine. I was glad, with a fulness of gladness. Even the terrors of landing through the surf could not dash my pleasure, though the water was not quiet enough to make it safe, and I did not see how we were possibly to get through. I thought we would, and we did; and then out of the confusion on the quay we found our way to a nice little hotel. Few things I suppose are nice in Jaffa; but this really seemed clean, and I am sure it was pleasant. The Oriental style of the house - the courtyard, and alcove rooms, stone floors and cus.h.i.+oned divans, - were delightful to me.
And so was our first dinner there; papa and I alone, tired and hungry, and eating with the Mediterranean full in sight, and the sun going down ”ayont the sea.” I established a truce with sorrowful thoughts that evening, and slept the night through in peace. The next morning papa found me standing at the window of one of our rooms that looked inward from the sea.
”Well, Daisy,” said he, putting his hands on my shoulders - ”I have got my Daisy of ten years old back again. What is it now?”
”Oh, papa,” I exclaimed, ”look at the housetops! I have read of housetops all my life; and now here they are!”
”They have been here all the time, Daisy.”
”But - it is so impossible to realise without seeing it, papa.
It was on such a housetop that Peter was when he had his vision. You can see, it is the pleasantest part of the house, papa. I should like to sleep on the housetop, as they do in summer; with only the stars over me. How nice!”
”What was Peter's vision, besides the stars?”
”Papa! Not the stars; his vision was at noonday. I have just been reading about it. How delicious the Bible will be here!”
”It is always delicious to you, I think,” papa said; I fancied rather sadly. ”It is a taste you were born with. Sit down and read me about that vision.”
But it was papa that sat down, and I stood by the window, and we read together those chapters of the Acts; and papa grew very much interested, and we had an excellent talk all breakfast time. The strange dishes at breakfast helped the interest too; the boiled rice and meat, and the fish and the pomegranates. I seemed to have my living in Bible times as well as places. The Mediterranean lay sparkling before us; as it was before Peter no doubt when he went up to that housetop to pray. The house is gone; but it is the same sea yet.
”I shall always look upon Jaffa with respect,” said papa, at last; ”since here it was that the gates of religion were publicly set open for all the world, and the key taken out of the hands of the Jews. It is a little place too, to have anything of so much interest belonging to it.”
”That is not all, papa,” I said. ”Solomon had the cedar for the Temple, and for all his great buildings, floated down here.”
”Solomon!” said papa.
”Don't you remember, sir, his great works, and the timber he had to get from Lebanon?”
”Did it come this way?”
”The only way it could come, papa; and then it had to go by land up to Jerusalem - the same way that we are going; thirty- three miles.”
”Where did you learn so much about it?”
”That isn't much, papa; all that is in Murray; but now may I read you about Solomon's floats of timber, while you are finis.h.i.+ng that pomegranate?”
”Read away,” said papa. ”Pomegranates are not ripe now, are they?”
”They keep, papa.”
Papa laughed at me, and I read to him as much as I liked; and he was almost as much engaged as I was.