My Dear Father:

In these letters to you I hope you will pardon the details which I enter into, for it is my earnest desire that you should see everything with my eyes, as if you had been present with me, in order that you may be able to judge of the remarkable events of which I have undertaken to give you a complete history.

After Rabbi Amos had reached the house in the wheat fields of Gilgal, he kindly told us that he was ready to accompany my cousin Mary and myself to the Jordan to hear the prophet. We had not ridden a great way from the house when we overtook two men on foot, with staves in their hands and wallets upon their shoulders. As we passed, one of them bowed with respect to Rabbi Amos, who, from his rank as a priest and his venerable appearance, always commands the homage of all men.

"Whither goest thou at such a pace, friend Matthew?" said Rabbi Amos, returning his salutation. "Canst thou leave thy tax-gathering these busy times to go into the wilderness?"

The person, who was a man of stout figure, with dark hair and beard and a look of intelligence, but whose costume was plain and ill-worn, smiled and answered:

"If a man would find the payers of tribute nowadays, good master, he must not stay at home, forsooth, but go into the wilderness of Jordan. Verily, this new prophet emptieth our towns, and we publicans must remain idle in our seat of customs or go with the tide."

"And thinkest thou," continued my uncle, as the two men walked along by the side of his mule, "thinkest thou this prophet is a true son of the prophets?"

"He works no miracles, unless indeed the power of his preaching be a miracle," answered Matthew.

"This man is an impostor. There can be no prophet unless he prove his mission by miracles," suddenly said the companion of Matthew, speaking up abruptly in a sharp and unpleasing voice. Now neither Mary nor I liked the face of this man from the first. He was low in height, was ill-featured, and his attire was mean; but he had a suspicious air, combined with a cringing deference to Rabbi Amos, that made me think he must be a hypocrite. He smiled with his mouth and teeth, but at the same time looked sinister out of his eyes. An air of humility seemed to me to be put on to conceal the pride and wickedness of his character. He looked like a man who could artfully deceive to gain his selfish ends, and who would kneel to you to overturn you. The sound of his voice confirmed my first impression of him. Upon speaking, Rabbi Amos fixed his eyes upon him, as if he did not like the manner of his breaking in upon the conversation.

"What is thy companion's name, friend Matthew?" he asked aside, as the other walked on ahead.

"His name is Judas, called Iscariot. He hath been engaged by me to bear the moneys I collect in the country villages; and as we are to gather taxes both at Gilgal and Bethabara, he cometh with me."

At length, dear father, after hastening the speed of our mules and riding pleasantly for two hours along the verdant banks of Jordan, we came in sight of a square tower of stone, peering above the trees which marked the site of the village of Bethabara. "That tower," said Rabbi Amos, "stands over a cave in which Elijah long dwelt. From the summit of yonder hill, at the left, the prophet was caught up and ascended to heaven upon the chariot of fire; and near where you see the single rock, Elisha divided Jordan with the fallen mantle left him by the ascending prophet of God."

While my eyes were fixed upon the hill, and my imagination presented to me Elijah standing upon the chariot of heaven, disappearing amid the clouds, there was an opening in the wood before us, and all at once we beheld a scene that made my heart cease to beat, it was so new and wonderful. Near the place the winding river takes a broad curve, and the opposite village of Bethabara lies in the hollow of it, forming the center of half a circle. This widely curving shore was alive with the human heads that filled it. And of this vast multitude every eye was concentrated upon the prophet. He was standing near the opposite shore (the Jordan here is very narrow and can be forded), in the water, addressing the countless assembly that stood opposite to and half encircling him. Near him, behind, and on either side, sat his disciples, upon the bank, at least a hundred in number, chiefly young men.

The clear voice of the youthful prophet of the wilderness fell distinctly on our ears, so great was the stillness of the vast audience. To my surprise I saw John, the cousin of Mary, standing close to the prophet, and listening with the deepest and most reverent attention to every syllable he uttered. The subject of the prophet's discourse was as before, and as always, the coming of the Messias. Oh, that I could give you, my dear father, the faintest idea of the power and eloquence of his language!

"Do you ask me if the blood of bulls and goats take not away sin? I answer and say unto you, that the Lord hath said that he delighteth not in these rivers of blood," he continued earnestly.

"For what, then, great prophet," asked one of the chief Levites, who stood near him, "for what, then, are the sacrifices ordained by the law of Moses? for what then the altar in the Temple, and the daily sacrifice of the lamb?"

"For what?" repeated the prophet, with his eyes beaming with the earnest light of inspiration; "for what but as types and shadows of the real and true sacrifice appointed by God from the foundation of the world? Think ye a man can give the lamb of his flock for himself? Nay, men of Israel, the day has come when your eyes shall be opened. The hour is at hand when the true meaning of the daily sacrifice shall be understood. Lo, the Messiah cometh, and ye shall see and believe!"

There now came several persons towards him who desired baptism. While he was baptizing these persons, both men and women, I saw appear on a little mound near the tower, Lazarus, the brother of Martha, accompanied by a man of about his own years, of an indescribable dignity and grace of aspect, combined with an air of benevolence and peace that at once attracted me.

He was wrapped in a vesture of dark blue cloth, which was folded about his form; his head was bare, and his hair flowed like a Nazarene's down about his shoulders. He seemed so unlike all other men, in a certain majesty united with sweetness that marked his whole air, that I could not withdraw my gaze from him.

The prophet at the same moment rested his eyes upon him, and as he did so, I saw a change come over his face, as if he had seen an angel. His eyes shone with unearthly brilliancy; his lips parted as if he would speak, yet had lost the power; and then, with his right hand stretched forth towards the noble stranger, he stood for a moment like a statue. All eyes followed his and the direction of his stretched-out arm. Suddenly he exclaimed, and oh, how like the trumpet of Horeb his voice rang!—

"Behold!"

There was not a face in that vast multitude that was not directed towards the little eminence.

"Ye have asked wherefore is slain the daily lamb," continued the prophet. "The day has come when the lamb of sacrifice, which can take away no sin, shall cease. Behold!" And here he stretched forth both arms towards the dignified stranger. "Behold him who taketh away the transgressions of men! He it is who, coming after me, is preferred before me. He it is to whom I bear witness, as the Messiah, the Son of the Highest! There stands the Christ of God! the only true Lamb, whose blood can take away the iniquities of us all. He hath dwelt among you, he hath walked your streets, he hath sat in your homes, and I knew him not, till I now behold on him the sign of the Messiah!"

When the prophet had thus spoken in a voice that thrilled to every bosom, we beheld the august stranger advance towards the prophet. He moved on alone. Lazarus had fallen prostrate on his face. As he continued to come forward, all was expectation in the immense multitude. The mass of heads swayed this way and that, to get a sight of his face, which I could see was serene, but pale and earnest. John, the cousin of Mary, seeing him approach, lowly knelt, and bowed his head in reverential awe and love. Those who stood between him and the prophet moved involuntarily apart, and left an open path for him to the water-side. He walked at a slow and even pace, with an air of humility veiling the native dignity of his kingly port.

The prophet, on seeing him come near, regarded him, as it seemed to me, with far more awe than all others.

"What wouldst thou of thy servant, O Messiah, Prophet of God, mighty to save?" he said, in tremulous tones, as the stranger came even some paces into the water towards him.

"To be baptized of thee," answered the Christ, in a still, quiet voice, that was heard to the remotest bounds of the crowd. Never, oh, never shall I forget the sounds of that voice, as it fell upon my ears!

"I have need to be baptized of thee; and comest thou to me?" answered the prophet, with the lowliest humility and awe of manner and with looks expressive of his amazement.

"It becometh us to fulfill all righteousness," answered Messiah, mildly; and when he had said this, the prophet, though still with a manner of doubt, and with the holiest reverence, administered then unto him, in the sight of all the people, the like baptism which he had administered to his disciples.

And now, my dear father, comes to be related the most extraordinary thing that ever took place in Israel since the Law was given from Sinai.

No sooner did the baptized stranger go up out of the water, than there was heard above all our heads a noise as of rolling thunder, although the sky was cloudless; and when in great fear we looked up, we beheld a dazzling glory far brighter than the sun, and from the midst of this celestial splendor there darted with arrowy velocity a ray of light which descended and lit upon the head of the Christ. Some of the people said it thundered, and others that it lightened, but judge of the amazement and admiration of all, and the dread awe that shook every soul when, amid the glory above his head, was seen the form of a dove of fire, with outspread wings overshadowing him as it were, and from the heavens what was supposed to be thunder shaped itself into a voice, which uttered these words in the hearing of every ear:

"This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased!"

At hearing these words from the skies a great part of the multitude fell on their faces. Every cheek was pale, and each man gazed on his neighbor in wonder and fear. When the majestic, yet terrible, voice had given utterance to these words, the light disappeared, the dove re-ascended to the skies and was lost to sight, leaving a halo of divine glory resting upon the head of this "Son of God." He alone seemed unmoved and calm amid all this awful scene, and going up the river bank, disappeared mysteriously and suddenly from my earnest gaze. At length, when men came a little to themselves, and would gaze on him whom all knew now to be the Christ, no one could find him, so effectually had he withdrawn himself from their homage.

Your affectionate,

Adina.