The Collected Works. Selma Lagerlöf
hills and mountains round about Nazareth.”
The mother sighed a little. “He is so happy at home with us!” said she. “How contented he seems when he can follow the shepherds on their lonely wanderings, or when he can go out in the fields and see the husbandmen labor. I can not believe that we are treating him wrongly, when we seek to keep him for ourselves.”
“We only spare him the greatest suffering,” said the man.
They continued talking together in this strain until the child awoke from his slumber.
“Well,” said the mother, “have you had a good rest? Stand up now, for it is drawing on toward evening, and we must return to the camp.”
They were in the most remote part of the building and so began the walk towards the entrance.
They had to go through an old arch which had been there ever since the time when the first Temple was erected on this spot; and near the arch, propped against a wall, stood an old copper trumpet, enormous in length and weight, almost like a pillar to raise to the mouth and play upon. It stood there dented and battered, full of dust and spiders’ webs, inside and outside, and covered with an almost invisible tracing of ancient letters. Probably a thousand years had gone by since any one had tried to coax a tone out of it.
But when the little boy saw the huge trumpet, he stopped—astonished! “What is that?” he asked.
“That is the great trumpet called the Voice of the Prince of this World,” replied the mother. “With this, Moses called together the Children of Israel, when they were scattered over the wilderness. Since his time no one has been able to coax a single tone from it. But he who can do this, shall gather all the peoples of earth under his dominion.”
She smiled at this, which she believed to be an old myth; but the little boy remained standing beside the big trumpet until she called him. This trumpet was the first thing he had seen in the Temple that he liked.
They had not gone far before they came to a big, wide Temple-court. Here, in the mountain-foundation itself, was a chasm, deep and wide—just as it had been from time immemorial. This chasm King Solomon had not wished to fill in when he built the Temple. No bridge had been laid over it; no inclosure had he built around the steep abyss. But instead, he had stretched across it a sword of steel, several feet long, sharpened, and with the blade up. And after ages and ages and many changes, the sword still lay across the chasm. Now it had almost rusted away. It was no longer securely fastened at the ends, but trembled and rocked as soon as any one walked with heavy steps in the Temple Court.
When the mother took the boy in a roundabout way past the chasm, he asked: “What bridge is this?”
“It was placed there by King Solomon,” answered the mother, “and we call it Paradise Bridge. If you can cross the chasm on this trembling bridge, whose surface is thinner than a sunbeam, then you can be sure of getting to Paradise.”
She smiled and moved away; but the boy stood still and looked at the narrow, trembling steel blade until she called him.
When he obeyed her, she sighed because she had not shown him these two remarkable things sooner, so that he might have had sufficient time to view them.
Now they walked on without being detained, till they came to the great entrance portico with its columns, five-deep. Here, in a corner, were two black marble pillars erected on the same foundation, and so close to each other that hardly a straw could be squeezed in between them. They were tall and majestic, with richly ornamented capitals around which ran a row of peculiarly formed beasts’ heads. And there was not an inch on these beautiful pillars that did not bear marks and scratches. They were worn and damaged like nothing else in the Temple. Even the floor around them was worn smooth, and was somewhat hollowed out from the wear of many feet.
Once more the boy stopped his mother and asked: “What pillars are these?”
“They are pillars which our father Abraham brought with him to Palestine from far-away Chaldea, and which he called Righteousness’ Gate. He who can squeeze between them is righteous before God and has never committed a sin.”
The boy stood still and regarded these pillars with great, open eyes.
“You, surely, do not think of trying to squeeze yourself in between them?” laughed the mother. “You see how the floor around them is worn away by the many who have attempted to force their way through the narrow space; but, believe me, no one has succeeded. Make haste! I hear the clanging of the copper gates; the thirty Temple servants have put their shoulders to them.”
But all night the little boy lay awake in the tent, and he saw before him nothing but Righteousness’ Gate and Paradise Bridge and the Voice of the Prince of this World. Never before had he heard of such wonderful things, and he couldn’t get them out of his head.
And on the morning of the next day it was the same thing: he couldn’t think of anything else. That morning they were to leave for home. The parents had much to do before they took the tent down and loaded it upon a big camel, and before everything else was in order. They were not going to travel alone, but in company with many relatives and neighbors. And since there were so many, the packing naturally went on very slowly.
The little boy did not assist in the work, but in the midst of the hurry and confusion he sat still and thought about the three wonderful things.
Suddenly he concluded that he would have time enough to go back to the Temple and take another look at them. There was still much to be packed away. He could probably manage to get back from the Temple before the departure.
He hastened away without telling any one where he was going to. He didn’t think it was necessary. He would soon return, of course.
It wasn’t long before he reached the Temple and entered the portico where the two pillars stood.
As soon as he saw them, his eyes danced with joy. He sat down on the floor beside them, and gazed up at them. As he thought that he who could squeeze between these two pillars was accounted righteous before God and had never committed sin, he fancied he had never seen anything so wonderful.
He thought how glorious it would be to be able to squeeze in between the two pillars, but they stood so close together that it was impossible even to try it. In this way, he sat motionless before the pillars for well-nigh an hour; but this he did not know. He thought he had looked at them only a few moments.
But it happened that, in the portico where the little boy sat, the judges of the high court were assembled to help folks settle their differences.
The whole portico was filled with people, who complained about boundary lines that had been moved, about sheep which had been carried away from the flocks and branded with false marks, about debtors who wouldn’t pay.
Among them came a rich man dressed in a trailing purple robe, who brought before the court a poor widow who was supposed to owe him a few silver shekels. The poor widow cried and said that the rich man dealt unjustly with her; she had already paid her debt to him once, and now he tried to force her to pay it again, but this she could not afford to do; she was so poor that should the judges condemn her to pay, she must give her daughters to the rich man as slaves.
Then he who sat in the place of honor on the judges’ bench, turned to the rich man and said: “Do you dare to swear on oath that this poor woman has not already paid you?”
Then the rich man answered: “Lord, I am a rich man. Would I take the trouble to demand my money from this poor widow, if I did not have the right to it? I swear to you that as certain as that no one shall ever walk through Righteousness’ Gate does this woman owe me the sum which I demand.”
When the judges heard this oath they believed him, and doomed the poor widow to leave him her daughters as slaves.
But the little boy sat close by and heard all this. He thought to himself: What a good thing it would be if some one could squeeze through Righteousness’ Gate! That rich man certainly did not speak the truth. It is a great