[266] Esther ii. 5, 6.
The peculiarity of Mordecai's part in the story is this, that he is the moving spirit of all that is done for the deliverance of Israel at a time of desperate peril without being at first a prominent character. Thus he first appears as the guardian of his young cousin, whom he has cherished and trained, and whom he now introduces to the royal harem where she will play her more conspicuous part. Throughout the whole course of events Mordecai's voice is repeatedly heard, but usually as that of Esther's prompter. He haunts the precincts of the harem, if by chance he may catch a glimpse of his foster child. He is a lonely man now, for he has parted with the light of his home. He has done this voluntarily, unselfishly--first, to advance the lovely creature who has been committed to his charge, and secondly, as it turns out, for the saving of his people. Even now his chief thought is not for the cheering of his own solitude. His constant aim is to guide his young cousin in the difficult path of her new career. Subsequently he receives the highest honours the king can bestow; but he never seeks them, and he would be quite content to remain in the background to the end, if only his eager desire for the good of his people could be accomplished by the queen who has learnt to lean upon his counsel from her childhood. Such self-effacement is most rare and beautiful. A subtle temptation to self-regarding ambition besets the path of every man who attempts some great public work for the good of others in a way that necessarily brings him under observation. Even though he believes himself to be inspired by the purest patriotism, it is impossible for him not to perceive that he is exposing himself to admiration by the very disinterestedness of his conduct. The rare thing is to see the same earnestness on the part of a person in an obscure place, willing that the whole of his energy should be devoted to the training and guiding of another, who alone is to become the visible agent of some great work.
The one action in which Mordecai momentarily takes the first place throws light on another side of his character. There is a secondary plot in the story. Mordecai saves the king's life by discovering to him a conspiracy. The value of this service is strikingly illustrated by the historical fact that, at a later time, just another such conspiracy issued in the assassination of Xerxes. In the distractions of his foreign expeditions and his abandonment to self-indulgence at home, the king forgets the whole affair, and Mordecai goes on his quiet way as before, never dreaming of the honour with which it is to be rewarded. Now this incident seems to be introduced to show how the intricate wheels of Providence all work on for the ultimate deliverance of Israel. The accidental discovery of Mordecai's unrequited service when the king is beguiling the long hours of a sleepless night by listening to the chronicles of his reign leads to the recognition of Mordecai and the first humiliation of Haman, and prepares the king for further measures. But the incident reflects a side light on Mordecai in another direction. The humble porter is loyal to the great despot. He is a passionately patriotic Jew; but his patriotism does not make a rebel of him, nor does it permit him to stand aside silently and see a villainous intrigue go on unmolested, even though it is aimed at the monarch who is holding his people in subjection. Mordecai is the humble friend of the great Persian king in the moment of danger. This is the more remarkable when we compare it with his ruthless thirst for vengeance against the known enemies of Israel. It shows that he does not treat Ahasuerus as an enemy of his people. No doubt the writer of this narrative wished it to be seen that the most patriotic Jew could be perfectly loyal to a foreign government. The shining examples of Joseph and Daniel have set the same idea before the world for the vindication of a grossly maligned people, who, like the Christians in the days of Tacitus, have been most unjustly hated as the enemies of the human race. The capacity to adapt itself loyally to the service of foreign governments, without abandoning one iota of its religion or its patriotism, is a unique trait in the genius of this wonderful race. The Zealot is not the typical Jew-patriot. He is a secretion of diseased and decayed patriotism. True patriotism is large enough and patient enough to recognise the duties that lie outside its immediate aims. Its fine perfection is attained when it can be flexible without becoming servile.