from The Bijou Literary Annual, 1828
author: By Henry Neele, Esq.
source date: 1828
edition published: 20170606
availability: Freely available via a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts

compiled by William Fraser
William Pickering London
1828
pp. 234-241

The Mount Carmel: A Dramatic Sketch from Scripture History

By Henry Neele, Esq.

Scene I

[The High Priest of Baal. Elijah, the Prophet. Reuben, an Israelite. Miriam, his sister. Attendants on Elijah, Priests, Crowd, &c.]
[SCENE — Mount Carmel. TIME — near Sunset.]

REUB.
Nay, sister, do not doubt;
Our God will manifest his pow'r, and shame
Yon bold idolaters.

MIR.
I hope — yet fear,
For they are many, and are mighty, and ——

REUB.
See, see, the High Priest doth approach
the prophet.

HIGH P.
Where is thy God? what eye bath ever gazed
Upon his face, what ear hath heard his voice?
If there be such an one, he loves to dwell
In darkness and obscurity; he fears
To meet the gaze of those who worship him,
And in his proud invisibility
Laughs at their lowly orisons. Not such
Is he whom we adore. Behold him there!

[[Pointing to the Sun.]

Baal, the great, the bright, the wonderful —
See how he traverses the boundless heav'n,
The azure palace of his sov'reignty;
Answering our pray'rs with treasures of rich light,
Bidding the world, on which we dwell, bring forth
Herbs, fruits, and flowers, to gladden and support
His worshippers. From morn to eve, his eye
With an untiring love is fixed on us,
And when our feeble senses seek repose
Then doth he kindly veil his burning beams,
And bid his silver regent bathe our lids
In a pure flood of milder — gentler light,
While sweet dreams glad our spirits, or deep sleep
Rocks them to rest unbroken.

MIR.
Look, my brother —
Reuben, it is indeed a glorious orb!
How like a God he walks the fields of heav'n,
Brother, I fear that he whom we adore
Is not so great as he.

REUB.
Peace, doubting girl,
The holy prophet speaks.

ELIJAH.
Fond impious man
My God is every where — is seen and heard
In all created things. I see his pow'r
And majesty in that resplendent orb
The work of his own hand, which ye adore
In ignorance and sin; on which I gaze
With wonder and with humble thankfulness.
I see his wrath and terror in the blind
Cold unbelief which he permits to seal
Your senses and your hearts; and I shall soon
Behold his goodness and his love to those,
Who keep their faith unspotted and unchanged,
When, at my pray'r, his fire from heav'n shall kindle
The off'ring which I place upon his shrine.
But wherefore linger ye? Did ye not say
That ye and I should each unto our Gods
Raise altars and bring off'rings; and whose God
Answer'd by fire and from heav'n, should be acknowledg'd
The Lord above all Lords, and God indeed?
Have you not call'd upon your God since noon
And has he answer'd? Is not his bright orb
Fast sinking in the west, and will he not
Soon beam his last farewell? 'Tis now my turn
To try the pow'r and goodness of the God
Whom I adore.

HIGH P.
Not yet, for Baal is angry,
At our imperfect rites, and he requires
To be again invok'd.

CROWD.
Baal requires
To be again invok'd.

[[Here the priests of Baal range themselves in a circle round his altar, and chant the following incantation, dancing round the altar at the end of each stanza, and cutting themselves with knives and lancets as they chant the last.]

From thy bright throne bow thine ear,
Baal, Baal, hear us, hear!
Thou who mak'st the rosy day,
Thou who lend'st the lunar ray,
Thou at whom the stars grow pale,
Thou who gildest mount and vale,
From thy bright throne, bow thine ear,
Baal, Baal, hear us, hear!

Thou to whom the highest heav'n
For thy throne of pow'r is giv'n;
Thou who mak'st the mighty sea,
The mirror of thy brightness be;
Thou who bidd'st th' else barren earth
Give wealth, and food, and beauty birth;
From they bright throne bow thine ear,
Baal, Baal, hear us, hear!

Now thy altar we array;
Now the sacrifice we slay,
Now his bleeding limbs recline,
Offerings on thy hallow'd shrine;
Now with lancet and with knife
We ope our own warm tides of life;
From they bright throne, bow thine ear,
Baal, Baal, hear us, hear!

[[During this invocation, the sun gradually declines, and sinks beneath the horizon.]

HIGH P.
Woe! woe! woe!
Leave us not, Baal, leave us not unanswered —
Unanswered, and in darkness.

CROWD.
Woe! woe! woe!
Leave us not, Baal.

ELIJAH.
Aye! howl on, howl on,
The And call upon your God. Will he not answer?
Sleeps he, or is he weary, or departed
On some far journey that he hears you not?
Are ye not here, four hundred priests of Baal,
And yet your many voices cannot pierce
His dull cold ear; — how therefore can I hope,
Jehovah's one poor prophet, that with these
My few attendants, I can make him bow
His ear to my complaints. Yet I'll essay it.
Now do ye [To his attendants] what I bid perform, and answer
The questions I propound.
Let twelve stones, the numbers tell
Of the tribes of Israel;
Build with them an altar straight
To our God, the good, the great;
Quickly answer every one;
Is it done?

ATTEN.
'Tis done, 'tis done.

ELIJAH.
Dig a trench the altar round;
On the altar be there found
Piles of wood; the bullock slay —
And on the wood his carcase lay,
In bleeding fragments, one by one;
Is it done?

ATTEN.
'Tis done, 'tis done.

ELIJAH.
Fill four barrels from the rill
That streams down Carmel's holy hill;
Pour the water once, twice, thrice,
On the wood and sacrifice,
'Till the trenches overrun;
Is it done?

ATTEN.
'Tis done, 'tis done.

ELIJAH.
Then now, most righteous God, what wait we for!
In humbleness, and reverence have we set
Our offerings on thy altar. Oh! send down
Thy fire from heaven to kindle and accept them,
So shall thy inward fire shine in the hearts
Of Israel (gone astray, lost in the night
Of dark idolatry), and they shall know
That thou art Lord of Lords, the God of heaven.

[[The whole scene becomes suddenly illuminated, and a flame, descending on the altar, consumes the sacrifice, and dries up the water in the trenches.]

MIR.
Wonderful — wonderful! Jehovah, thou
Art God indeed: thou art the Lord of Lords!

CROWD.
Sing, sing Jehovah's praise, for he is God;
He is the Lord of Lords, who reigns in heaven!

REUB.
See, see, heaven opens, and the sacred fire
Consumes the offering; it is as though
God stretched his own right arm down to the earth
To accept the service of his worshippers.

ELIJAH.
The trenches are dried up. The fire returns
Into its native heaven. That last read streak
Just glimmers faintly in the west — and now
'Tis gone — 'tis past — and hark! that fearful peal!

[[Thunder is heard.]

It is Jehovah speaks, answer him. Say
"Thou—thou—art Lord of Lords, the God of heaven."

MIR.
Wonderful — wonderful! Jehovah thou
Art God indeed: thou art the Lord of Lords!

CROWD.
Sing, sing Jehovah's praise for he is God:
He is the Lord of Lords who reigns in heaven!

HIGH P.
Away! Away! The Evil One prevails,
The foe of Baal.

[[Elijah and the crowd kneel before the altar. The Priests of Baal rush out tumultuously. The scene closes.]