With large booty and the rescued captives Abraham returned in peace to the valley of the Jordan. But so successful an exploit, involving such a vast benefit to the inhabitants of the country, could not be allowed to pass unacknowledged. The reputation and the influence of the stranger chieftain were largely increased by this expedition, and the gratitude of the people was shown in various ways. First of all the king of Sodom came forth to meet him, to congratulate him on his success, and to receive his portion of spoil from his hands. The place of meeting is called “the valley of Shaveh, which is the king's dale.” This is probably the northern part of the valley of the Kidron, where the “tombs of the kings” are now shown, and where the childless Absalom reared a memorial for himself that his name might not be forgotten. Full of gratitude for Abraham's valiant rescue, the king of Sodom wished eagerly to reward him for his services. “Give me the captives of my people whom thou hast delivered; I want no more; keep thou everything else which thou hast taken from the enemy.”
It must have been a very tempting offer. No slight matter for a shepherd to have the chance of appropriating all the spoils of settled townships, so large and opulent; especially when he seemed to have some claim on them. But Abraham would not hear of it for a moment. Indeed, he seems to have already undergone some exercise of soul on the matter, for speaking as of a past transaction, he said, “I have lift up mine hand unto the Lord, the most high God, the possessor of heaven and earth, that I will not take from a thread even to a shoelatchet; and that I will not take any thing that is thine, lest thou shouldest say, I have made Abram rich.”
This is the high uplifted spirit which wins the hearts of nations and of comrades; which initiates nobly and continues splendidly great efforts and great causes. It is the spirit which makes a nation great and useful to the whole of humanity; which should be also at the root of our daily life, even of our daily business. Think only how this part of Abraham's character has travelled over a thousand generations, and laid its power for good and for honour on them all. Every noble Jew felt it breathing in him, every generous Muhammadan feels it to this day. The whole of Christendom has loved, admired, and reverenced it. It has saved endless folk from the greedy spirit in the world. All the work of commerce, all the inventions of science, are as nothing in the progress of mankind, compared to the sowing of this spirit in the field of humanity.
Certain moralists speak as if it were a higher thing to do one's duty with a cold heart, by virtue of moral choice alone, than to find joy in helping others. A distorted theory of unselfishness may lead to strange conclusions, and result in placing the angels a little lower in the scale than mere man. Whether in moments of analysis (with which he would be afflicted) he might have maintained some such thesis himself or not, it is no true account of my brother's nature. For he had the temper of love, and could not help it. He took pleasure in doing kind things, and of the blessedness of giving the days brought him great store; while he refused to be discouraged by the inevitable disappointments that clog the heels of generosity. He never read Martial, but that noble line of his-
Quas dederis, solas semper habebis opes-
seemed written somewhere within him.1 [Note: Hastings Crossley, in The Life of F. W. Crossley, by Rendel Harris, 227.]
The better portion didst thou choose, Great Heart,
Thy God's first choice, and pledge of Gentile grace!
Faith's truest type, he with unruffled face
Bore the world's smile, and bade her slaves depart;
Whether, a trader, with no trader's art,
He buys in Canaan his last resting-place,-
Or freely yields rich Siddim's ample space,-
Or braves the rescue, and the battle's smart,
Yet scorns the heathen gifts of those he saved.
O happy in their soul's high solitude,
Who commune thus with God, and not with earth!
Amid the scoffings of the wealth-enslaved,
A ready prey, as though in absent mood
They calmly move, nor reck the unmanner'd mirth.2 [Note: J. H. Newman, Verses on Various Occasions.]
