Reviews
“The Gate of the Kiss,” by John W. Harding (Lothrop Publishing Co., Boston, 1902. Price, $1.50).
As far as the novel dealing with Biblical times throws a rational light upon, and hence helps to a rational understanding of, the Biblical period, the romance dealing with ancient days is welcome. Perhaps in recent times too great liberties have been taken with Scriptural personages by novelists in search of subjects, but Jewish history is so often regarded as a set of texts and dim records that the attempt to read the normal into the events recorded in the Books of Kings or the Chronicles must be of use, especially to that large public which gains all its knowledge of history through the medium of the books of story.
Mr. Harding has attempted to depict Jewish life in, the days of Hezekiah, King of Judah, and he has not only introduced the king, a rather shadowy being, but has endeavored to depict that master personage— Isaiah. We are inclined to believe that the author, fearful of handling so colossal a type, abandoned the attempt; for Isaiah, seer and nationalist, politician and speaker of woe, disappears from the story at that point where he threatens to assume a very prominent position.
“The Gate of the Kiss” opens with the Feast of the Harvest and the Feast of the Freedom of Judah. We are offered a somewhat labored picture of the political conditions of the times and of life in Jerusalem. In the midst of the festival, a knot of idol worshipers restore “Ashtoreth,” raising an altar and worshiping the woman they have crowned upon it. Naphtali, the sweet singer and friend of Isaiah, is captured by the figure around which the demoniac revel is proceeding, and subsequently becomes a slave at the feet of this human idol, who is no other than a priestess of the goddess she impersonated and the assistant of the conspirators and spies sent by the Assyrian Government to weaken the rule of Hezekiah, and to endeavor, from within, to help the campaign which from without is to ruin and over-
throw the King of Judah. The novel proceeds through the meanderings of plot and counterplot to the point when the enamored Naphtali becomes a party to the murder of his best friend in order to save “Miraone the Radiant,” the Ashtoreth priestess, from the death that awaits her. After marrying her he joins the battle against the host of Sennacherib, having as his armor-bearer no other than the half Jewish slave of Miraone, who is enamored of the giant strength and musical power of her master. He lies wounded during the long siege of Jerusalem and only returns to consciousness when his house is set on fire as a signal that the revolt within will help the army without the walls.
On the discovery of the base character of the woman who is his wife, he swears to take vengeance upon her. The story therefore leaves Jerusalem. He and his companion cross the desert until they come to Babylon. Here, on the road, we get one Biblical picture of the Captivity which we quote:
“The faces of the slaves wore a listless, hopeless expression, and at first they took no notice of the strangers, or regarded them with absolute indifference. But some, seeing the harp slung on Naphtali’s back, and marking his great stature, became interested, and a few young men, bolder than the rest, gathered about him, saying:
“O harpist, play for us.’
“They pleaded earnestly. Naphtali’s heart was filled with pity for his hapless compatriots, and taking his harp he struck the chords. At the sound all the workers raised their heads and crowded round him. The men with the whips, themselves interested, also gathered about the singer. He sang a cheerful drinking lilt that banished their apathy, causing even the saddest to smile and the young people to clap their hands in glee. Then up spoke an old man, who had been gazing at Naphtali intently:
“O master harpist, thou who art of Zion, sing us a song of Zion.”