Chapter XVI: Part 16

It was not the length of Mathias' discourse, nor his eloquence, Hazael said, that caused my senses to swoon away. My age will not permit me to listen long. I would be with Jesus, and I would that ye, Saddoc and Manahem, return to the lecture-room at once, else our brother will think his discourse has failed. Jesus is here to give the attendance I require. Go, hasten, lest ye miss any of his points. The brethren were about to raise a protest, but at a sign from Jesus they obeyed; Mathias' voice was heard as soon as the door of the lecture-room was opened, but the brethren did not forget to close it, and when silence came again Hazael said: Jesus, come hither, sit near me, for I would speak to thee, but cannot raise my voice. Thou'lt sleep here to-night, and to-morrow we shall meet again. And this is well, for my days are numbered. I shall not be here to see next year's lambs and to agree that this new shepherd shall be recompensed by a gift of eighteen, as is the custom. And Jesus, understanding that the president was prophesying his own death, said: why speakest like this to me who have returned from the hills to strangers, for all are strangers to me but thou. I shall be sorry to leave thee, Jesus, for our lives have been twisted together, strands of the same rope. But it must be plain to thee that I am growing weaker; month by month, week by week, my strength is ebbing. I am going out; but for what reason should I lament that God has not chosen to retain me a few months longer, since my life cannot be prolonged for more than a few months? My eighty odd years have left me with barely strength enough to sit in the doorway looking back on the way I have come. Every day the things of this world grow fainter, and life becomes to me an unreal thing, and myself becomes unreal to those around me; only to thee do I retain anything of my vanished self. So why should I remain? For thy sake, lest thou be lonely here? Well, that is reason enough, and I will bear the burden of life as well as I can for thy sake. A burden it is, and for a reason that thou mayest not divine, for thou art still a young man in my eyes, and, moreover, hast not lived under a roof for many years listening to learned interpretations of Scripture. Thou hast not guessed, nor wilt thou ever guess, till age reveals it to thee, that as we grow old we no longer concern ourselves to love God as we used to love him. No one would have thought, not even thou, whose mind is always occupied with God, and who is more conscious of him perhaps than any one I have known, no one, I say, not even thou, would have thought that as we approach death our love of God should grow weaker, but this is so. In great age nothing seems to matter, and it is this indifference that I wish to escape from. Thou goest forth in the morning to lead thy flock in search of pasture, if need be many hours, and God is nearer to us in the wilderness than he is among men. This meaning, Jesus said, that under this roof I, too, may cease to love God? Not cease to love God: one doesn't cease to love God, Hazael answered. But, Hazael, this night I've yielded up the flocks to a new shepherd, for my limbs have grown weary, and what thou tellest me of old age frightens me. Thou wouldst warn me that God is only loved on the hills under the sky---- I am too weak to choose my thoughts or my words, and many things pass out of my mind, Hazael answered. Had I remembered I shouldn't have spoken. But why not speak, Father? Jesus asked, so that I may be prepared in a measure for the new life that awaits me. Life never comes twice in the same way, Hazael replied; nor do the same things befall any two men. I know not what may befall thee: but the sky, Jesus, will always be before thine eyes and the green fields under thy feet, even while listening to Mathias. But thou didst live once under the sky, Jesus said. Not long enough, Hazael murmured, but the love of God was ardent in me when I walked by day and night, sleeping under the stars, seeking young men who could give up their lives to the love of God and bringing them back hither into the fold of the Essenes. In those days there was little else in me but love of God, and I could walk from dusk to dusk without wearying; twelve and fifteen hours were not too many for my feet: my feet bounded along the road while my eyes followed white clouds moving over the sky; I dreamed of them as God's palaces, and I saw God not only in the clouds but in the grass, and in the fields, and the flower that covers the fields. I read God in the air and in the waters: and in every town in Palestine I sought out those that loved God and those that could learn to love God. I could walk well in those days, fifteen hours were less than as many minutes are now. I have walked from Jerusalem to Joppa in one day, and the night that I met thy father outside Nazareth I had walked twelve hours, though I had been delayed in the morning: eight hours before midday, and after a rest in the wood I went on again for several hours more, how many I do not know, I've forgotten. I did not know the distance that I had walked till I met thy father coming home from his work, his tools in the bag upon his shoulder. His voice is still in my ear. But if it be to Nazareth thou'rt going, come along with me, he said. And I can still hear ourselves talking, myself asking him to direct me to a lodging, and his answering: there's a house in the village where thou'lt get one, and I'll lead thee to it. But all the beds in that house were full; we knocked at other inns, but the men and women and children in them were asleep and not to be roused; and if by chance our knocking awakened somebody we were bidden away with threats that the dogs would be loosed upon us. Nazareth looks not kindly on the wayfarer to-night, I said. Yet it shall not be said that a stranger had to sleep in the streets of Nazareth, were thy father's very words to me, Jesus. Come to my house, he said, though it be small and we have to put somebody out of his bed, it will be better than that our town should gain evil repute. Thou canst not have forgotten me coming, for thy father shook thee out of thy sleep and told thee that he wanted thy bed for a stranger. I can see thee still standing before me in thy shift, and though the hours I'd travelled had gone down into my very marrow, and sleep was heavy upon my eyes, yet a freshness came upon me as of the dawn when I looked on thee, and my heart told me that I had found one that would do honour to the Essenes, and love God more than any I had ever met with yet. But I think I hear thee weeping, Jesus. Now, for what art thou weeping? There is nothing sad in the story, only that it is a long time ago. Our speech next day still rings in my ear--my telling thee of the Pharisees that merely minded the letter of the law, and of the Sadducees that said there was no life outside this world except for angels. It is well indeed that I remember our two selves sitting by the door on two stools set under a vine, and it throwing pretty patterns of shadow on the pavement whilst we talked--whilst I talked to thee of the brethren, who lived down by the Bitter Lake, no one owning anything more than his fellow, so that none might be distracted from God by the pleasures of this world. I can see clearly through the years thy face expectant, and Nazareth--the deeply rutted streets and the hills above.

The days that we walked in Nazareth are pleasant memories, for I could never tell thee enough about the Essenes: their contempt of riches, and that if there were one among them who had more than another, on entering the order he willingly shared it. We were among the hills the day that I told thee about the baker; how he put a platter with a loaf on it before each of the brethren, how they broke bread, deeming the meal sacred, and it was the next day that we bade farewell to thy father and thy mother and started on our journey; a long way, but one that did not seem long to us, so engaged were we with our hopes. It was with me thou sawest Jerusalem for the first time; and I remember telling thee as we journeyed by the Jordan seeking a ford that the Essenes looked upon oil as a defilement, and if any one of them be anointed without his approbation it is wiped off, for we think to be sweaty is a good thing, and to be clothed in white garments, and never to change these till they be torn to pieces or worn out by time.

And of the little band that came with us that day from Galilee there remain Saddoc, Manahem and thyself. All of you learnt from me on the journey that we laboured till the fifth hour and then assembled together again clothed in white veils, after having bathed our bodies in cold water. But, Jesus, why this grief? Because I am going from thee? But, dear friend, to come and to go is the law of life, and it may be that I shall be with thee longer than thou thinkest for; eighty odd years may be lengthened into ninety: the patriarchs lived till a hundred and more years, and we believe that the soul outlives the body. Out of the chrysalis we escape from our corruptible bodies, and the beautiful butterfly flutters Godward. Grieve for me a little when I am gone, but grieve not before I go, for I would see thy face always happy, as I remember it in those years long ago in Nazareth. Jesus, Jesus, thou shouldst not weep like this! None should weep but for sin, and thy life is known to me from the day in Nazareth when we sat in the street together to the day that thou wentest to the Jordan to get baptism from John.

Ah! that day was the only day that my words were unheeded. But I am saying things that would seem to wound thee, and for why I know not! Tell me if my words wound or call up painful memories. Thy suffering is forgotten, or should be, for if ever any man merited love and admiration for a sincere and holy life thou---- I beg of thee, Father, not to say another word, for none is less worthy than I am. The greatest sinner amongst us is sitting by thee, one that has not dared to tell his secret to thee.... The memory of my sin has fed upon me and grown stronger, becoming a devil within me, but till now I have lacked courage to come to thee and ask thee to cast it out. But now since thou art going from us this year or the next, I wouldn't let thee go without telling it; to none may I tell it but to thee, for none else would understand it. I am listening, Jesus, Hazael answered.

The mutter of the water in the valley below them arose and grew louder in the silence; as Jesus prepared to speak his secret the doors of the lecture-room opened and the monks came out singing:

In the Lord put I my trust:
How say ye to my soul, Flee
As a bird to your mountain?
For, lo, the wicked bend their
Bow, they make ready their arrow
Upon the string, that they may privily
Shoot at the upright in heart.
If the foundations be destroyed, what
Can the righteous do?
For the righteous Lord loveth
Righteousness; his countenance
Doth behold the upright.

The words of the psalm are intended for me, Jesus whispered, and now that the brethren are here I may not speak, but to-morrow---- There may be no to-morrow for us, the president answered. Even so, Jesus answered, I cannot speak to-night. It is as if I were bidden to withhold my secret till to-morrow. We know not why we speak or why we are silent, but silence has been put upon me by the words of the psalm. Be it so, the president answered, and he was helped by Saddoc and Manahem to his feet. Our Brother Jesus, he said, has given over the charge of our flocks to a young shepherd in whom he has confidence, and Jesus sleeps under a roof to-night, the first for many years, for, like us, he is getting older, and the rains and blasts of last winter have gone into his bones. All the cells, Father, Saddoc replied, are filled. I know that well, Saddoc, Hazael said as he went out; Jesus can sleep here on these benches; a mattress and a cloak will be sufficient for him who has slept in caverns, or in valleys on heaps of stones that he piled so that he might not drown in the rains. Manahem will get thee a mattress, Jesus; he knows where to find one. I am strong enough to walk alone, Saddoc. And disengaging himself from Saddoc's arm he walked with the monks towards his cell, joining them in the psalm:

All the powers of the Lord
Bless ye the Lord; praise and
Exalt him above all for ever.

As the doors of the cell closed Saddoc approached Jesus, and, breaking his reverie, he said: thou hast returned to us at last; and it was not too soon, for the winter rains are cold on bones as old as thine. But here comes Manahem with a mattress for thee. On the bench here, Manahem; on the bench he'll lie comfortably, and we'll get him a covering, for the nights are often chilly though the days be hot, we must try to make a comfortable resting-place for him that has guarded our flocks these long years. Wilt tell us if thou beest glad to yield thy flock to Jacob and if he will sell ewes and rams to the Temple for sacrifice? Ask me not any questions to-night, Brother Saddoc, for I'm troubled in mind. Forgive me my question, Jesus, Saddoc answered, and the three Essenes, leaning over the edge of the gorge, stood listening to the mutter of the brook. At last, to break the silence that the brook rumpled without breaking, Jesus asked if a wayfarer never knocked at the door of the cenoby after dark asking for bread and board. None knows the path well enough to keep to it after dark, Saddoc said; though the moon be high and bright the shadows disguise the path yonder. The path is always in darkness where it bends round the rocks, and the wayfarer would miss his footing and fall over into the abyss, even though he were a shepherd. Thyself wouldst miss it. Saddoc speaks well; none can follow the path, Manahem said, and fortunately, else we should have all the vagrants of the country knocking at our door.

We shall have one to-night--vagrant or prophet, Jesus said, and asked his brethren to look yonder; for it seemed to him that a man had just come out of the shadow of an overhanging rock. Manahem could see nobody, for, he said, none could find the way in the darkness, and if it be a demon, he continued, and fall, it will not harm him: the devil will hold him up lest he dash himself at the bottom of the ravine. But if it be a man of flesh and blood like ourselves he will topple over yon rock, and Manahem pointed to a spot, and they waited, expecting to see the shadow or the man they were watching disappear, but the man or the shadow kept close to the cliffs, avoiding what seemed to be the path so skilfully that Saddoc and Manahem said he must know the way. He will reach the bridge safely, cried Saddoc, and we shall have to open our doors to him. Now he is crossing the bridge, and now he begins the ascent. Let us pray that he may miss the path through the terraces. But would you have him miss it, Saddoc, Jesus asked, for the sake of thy rest? He shall have my mattress; I'll sleep on this bench in the window under the sky, and shall be better there: a roof is not my use nor wont. But who, said Saddoc, can he be?--for certainly the man, if he be not an evil spirit, is coming to ask for shelter for the night; and if he be not a demon he may be a prophet or robber: once more the hills are filled with robbers. Or it may be, Jesus said, the preacher of whom Jacob spoke to me this evening; he came up from the Jordan with a story of a preacher that the multitude would not listen to and sought to drown in the river, and our future shepherd told me how the rabble had followed him over the hills with the intent to kill him. Some great and terrible heresy he must be preaching to stir them like that, Manahem said, and he asked if the shepherd had brought news of the prophet's escape or death. Jesus answered that the shepherd thought the prophet had escaped into a cave, for he saw the crowd dispersing, going home like dogs from a hunt when they have lost their prey. If so, he has been lying by in the cave. Who can he be? Saddoc asked. Only a shepherd could have kept to the path. Now he sees us ... and methinks he is no shepherd, but a robber.

The Essenes waited a few moments longer and the knocking they had expected came at their door. Do not open it, Saddoc cried. He is for sure a robber sent in advance of his band, or it may be a prisoner of the Romans, and to harbour him may put us on crosses above the hills. We shall hang! Open not the door! If it be a wayfarer lost among the hills a little food and water will save him, Jesus answered. Open not the door, Jesus; though he be a prophet I would not open to him. A prophet he may be, and no greater danger besets us, for our later prophets induced men to follow them into the desert, promising that they should witness the raising of the dead with God riding the clouds and coming down for judgment. I say open not the door to him, Jesus! He may be one of the followers of the prophets, of which we have seen enough in these last years, God knows! The cavalry of Festus may be in pursuit of him and his band, and they have cut down many between Jerusalem and Jericho. I say open not the door! We live among terrors and dangers, Jesus; open not the door! Hearken, Saddoc, he calls us to open to him, Jesus said, moving towards the door. He is alone. We know he is, for we have seen him coming down a path on which two men pass each other with difficulty. He is a wayfarer, and we've been safe on this ledge of rock for many years; and times are quieter now than they have been since the dispersal of the great multitude that followed Theudas and were destroyed, and the lesser multitude that followed Banu; they, too, have perished.

Open not the door, Jesus! Saddoc cried again. There are Sicarii who kill men in the daytime, mingling themselves among the multitude with daggers hidden in their garments, their mission being to stab those that disobey the law in any fraction. We're Essenes, and have not sent blood offerings to the Temple. Open not the door. Sicarii or Zealots travel in search of heretics through the cities of Samaria and Judea. Open not the door! Men are for ever fooled, Saddoc continued, and will never cease to open their doors to those who stand in need of meat and drink. It will be safer, Jesus, to bid him away. Tell him rather that we'll let down a basket of meat and drink from the balcony to him. Art thou, Manahem, for turning this man from the door or letting him in? Jesus asked. There is no need to be frightened, Manahem answered; he is but a wanderer, Saddoc. A wanderer he cannot be, for he has found his way along the path in the darkness of the night, Saddoc interjected. Open not the door, I tell thee, or else we all hang on crosses above the hills to-morrow. But, Saddoc, we are beholden to the law not to refuse bed and board to the poor, Manahem replied, returning from the door. If we do not open, Jesus said, he will leave our door, and that will be a greater misfortune than any that he may bring us. Hearken, Saddoc! He speaks fair enough, Saddoc replied; but we may plead that after sunset in the times we live in---- But, Manahem, Jesus interjected, say on which side thou art.... We know there is but one man; and we are more than a match for one. Put a sword in Saddoc's hand. No! Manahem! for I should seem like a fool with a sword in my hand. Since thou sayest there is but one man and we are three, it might be unlucky to turn him from our doors. May I then open to him? Jesus asked, and he began to unbar the great door, and a heavy, thick-set man, weary of limb and mind, staggered into the gallery, and stood looking from one to the other, as if trying to guess which of the three would be most likely to welcome him. His large and bowed shoulders made his bald, egg-shaped skull (his turban had fallen in his flight) seem ridiculously small; it was bald to the ears, and a thick black beard spread over the face like broom, and nearly to the eyes; thick black eyebrows shaded eyes so piercing and brilliant that the three Essenes were already aware that a man of great energy had come amongst them. He had run up the terraces despite his great girdlestead and he stood before them like a hunted animal, breathing hard, looking from one to the other, a red, callous hand scratching in his shaggy chest, his eyes fixed first on Saddoc and then on Manahem and lastly on Jesus, whom he seemed to recognise as a friend. May I rest a little while? If so, give me drink before I sleep, he asked. No food, but drink. Why do ye not answer? Do ye fear me, mistaking me for a robber? Or have I wandered among robbers? Where am I? Hark: I am but a wayfarer and thou'rt a shepherd of the hills, I know thee by thy garb, thou'lt not refuse me shelter. And Jesus, turning to Saddoc and Manahem, said: he shall have the mattress I was to sleep upon. Give it to him, Manahem. Thou shalt have food and a coverlet, he said, turning to the wayfarer. No food! he cried; but a drink of water. There is some ewe's milk on the shelf, Manahem. Thou must be footsore, he said, giving the milk to the stranger, who drank it greedily. I'll get thee a linen garment so that thou mayst sleep more comfortable; and I'll bathe thy feet before sleep; sleep will come easier in a fresh garment. But to whose dwelling have I come? the stranger asked. A shepherd told me the Essenes lived among the rocks.... Am I among them? He told me to keep close to the cliff's edge or I should topple over. We watched thee, and it seemed every moment that thou couldst not escape death. It will be well to ask him his name and whence he comes, Saddoc whispered to Manahem. The shepherd told thee that we are Essenes, and it remains for thee to tell us whom we entertain. A prisoner of the Romans---- A prisoner of the Romans! Saddoc cried. Then indeed we are lost; a prisoner of the Romans with soldiers perhaps at thy heels! A prisoner fled from Roman justice may not lodge here.... Let us put him beyond our doors. And becoming suddenly courageous Saddoc went up to Paul and tried to lift him to his feet. Manahem, aid me!

Jesus, who had gone to fetch a basin of water and a garment, returned and asked Saddoc and Manahem the cause of their unseemly struggle with their guest. They replied that their guest had told them he was a prisoner of the Romans. Even so, Jesus answered, we cannot turn him from our doors. These men have little understanding, Paul answered. I'm not a criminal fled from Roman justice, but a man escaped from Jewish persecution. Why then didst thou say, cried Saddoc, that thou'rt a prisoner of the Romans? Because I would not be taken to Jerusalem to be tried before the Jews. I appealed to Cæsar, and while waiting on the ship to take me to Italy, Festus gave me leave to come here, for I heard that there were Jews in Jericho of great piety, men unlike the Jews of Jerusalem, who though circumcised in the flesh are uncircumcised in heart and ear. Of all of this I will tell you to-morrow, and do you tell me now of him that followed me along the cliff. We saw no one following thee; thou wast alone. He may have missed me before I turned down the path coming from Jericho. I speak of Timothy, my beloved son in the faith. What strange man is this that we entertain for the night? Saddoc whispered to Manahem. And if any disciple of mine fall into the hands of the Jews of Jerusalem---- We know not of what thou'rt speaking, Jesus answered; and it is doubtless too long a story to tell to-night. I must go at once in search of Timothy, Paul said, and he turned towards the door. The moon is setting, Jesus cried, and returning to-night will mean thy death over the cliffs edge. There is no strength in thy legs to keep thee to the path. I should seek him in vain, Paul answered. Rest a little while, Jesus said, and drink a little ewe's milk, and when thou hast drunken I'll bathe thy feet.

Without waiting for Paul's assent he knelt to untie his sandals. We came from Cæsarea to Jericho to preach the abrogation of the law. What strange thing is he saying now? The abrogation of the law! Saddoc whispered to Manahem. The people would not listen to us, and, stirred up by the Jews, they sought to capture us, but we escaped into the hills and hid in a cave that an angel pointed out to us. Hark, an angel pointed out a cave to him! Manahem whispered in Saddoc's ear. Then he must be a good man, Saddoc answered, but we know not if he speaks the truth. We have had too many prophets; he is another, and of the same tribe, setting men by the ears. We have had too many prophets!

Now let me bathe thy feet, which are swollen, and after bathing Paul's feet Jesus relieved him of his garment and passed a white robe over his shoulders. Thou'lt sleep easier in it. They would have done well to hearken to me, Paul muttered. Thou'lt tell us thy story of ill treatment to-morrow, Jesus said, and he laid Paul back on his pillow, and a moment after he was asleep.

CHAP. XXXII.

Jesus feared to awaken him, but was constrained at last to call after him: thou'rt dreaming, Paul. Awake! Remember the Essenes ... friends, friends. But Paul did not hear him, and it was not till Jesus laid his hand on his shoulder that Paul opened his eyes: thou hast been dreaming, Paul, Jesus said. Where am I? Paul inquired. With the Essenes, Jesus answered. I was too tired to sleep deeply, Paul said, and it would be useless for me to lie down again. I am afraid of my dreams; and together they stood looking across the abyss watching the rocks opposite coming into their shapes against a strip of green sky.

The ravine was still full of mist, and a long time seemed to pass before the bridge and the ruins over against the bridge began to appear. As the dawn advanced sleep came upon Paul's eyelids. He lay down and dozed awhile, for about an hour, and when he opened his eyes again Jesus' hand was upon his shoulder and he was saying: Paul, it is now daybreak: at the Brook Kerith we go forth to meet the sunrise. To meet the sunrise, Paul repeated, for he knew nothing of the doctrine of the Essenes. But he followed Jesus through the gallery and received from him a small hatchet with instructions how he should use it, and a jar which he must fill with water at the well. We carry water with us, Jesus said, for the way is long to the brook; only by sending nearly to the source can we reach it, for we are mindful not to foul the water we drink. But come, we're late already. Jesus threw a garment over Paul's shoulder and told him of the prayers he must murmur. We do not speak of profane matters till after sunrise. He broke off suddenly and pointed to a place where they might dig: and as soon as we have purified ourselves, he continued, we will fare forth in search of shepherds, who, on being instructed by us, will be watchful for a young man lost on the hills and will direct him to the Essene settlement above the Brook Kerith. Be of good courage, he will be found. Hadst thou come before to-day myself would be seeking him for thee, but yesterday I gave over my flock to Jacob, a trustworthy lad, who will give the word to the next one, and he will pass it on to another, and so the news will be carried the best part of the way to Cæsarea before noon. It may be that thy companion has found his way to Cæsarea already, for some can return whither they have come, however long and strange the way may be. Pause, we shall hear Jacob's pipe answer mine. Jesus played a few notes, which were answered immediately, and not long afterwards the shepherd appeared over a ridge of hills. Thy shepherd, Paul said, is but a few years younger than Timothy and he looks to thee as Timothy looks to me. Tell him who I am and whom I seek. Jacob, Jesus said, thou didst tell me last night of a preacher to whom the multitude would not listen, but sought to throw into the Jordan. He has come amongst us seeking his companion Timothy. The twain escaped from the multitude, Jacob interjected. That is true, Jesus answered, but they ran apart above the brook, one keeping on to Cæsarea, this man followed the path round the rocks (how he did it we are still wondering) and climbed up to our dwelling. We must find his companion for him. Jacob promised that every shepherd should hear that a young man was missing. As soon as a shepherd appears on yon hillside, Jacob said, he shall have the word from me, and he will pass it on. Jesus looked up into Paul's anxious face. We cannot do more, he said, and began to speak with Jacob of rams and ewes just as if Timothy had passed out of their minds. Paul listened for a while, but finding little to beguile his attention in their talk, he bade Jesus and Jacob good-bye for the present, saying he was returning to the cenoby. I wonder, he said to himself, as he went up the hill, if they'd take interest in my craft, I could talk to them for a long while of the thread which should always be carefully chosen, and which should be smooth and of equal strength, else, however deftly the shuttle be passed, the woof would be rough. But no matter, if they'll get news of Timothy for me I'll listen to their talk of rams and ewes without complaint. It was kind of Jacob to say he did not think Timothy had fallen down a precipice, but what does he know? and on his way back Paul tried to recall the ravine that he had seen in the dusk as he leaned over the balcony with Jesus. And as he passed through the domed gallery he stopped for a moment by the well, it having struck him that he might ask the brother drawing water to come with him to look for Timothy. If my son were lying at the bottom of the ravine, he said, I should not be able to get him out without help. Come with me.

The Essene did not know who Paul was, nor of whom he was speaking, and at the end of Paul's relation the brother answered that there might be two hundred feet from the pathway to the brook, more than that in many places; but thou'lt see for thyself; I may not leave my work. If a man be dying the Essene, by his rule, must succour him, Paul said. But I know not, the Essene answered, that any man be dying in the brook. We believe thy comrade held on to the road to Cæsarea. So it may have befallen, Paul said, but it may be else. It may be, the Essene answered, but not likely. He held on to the road to Cæsarea, and finding thee no longer with him kept on--or rolled over the cliff, Paul interrupted. Well, see for thyself; and if he be at the bottom I'll come to help thee. But it is a long way down, and it may be that we have no rope long enough, and without one we cannot reach him, but forgive me, for I see that my words hurt thee. But how else am I to speak? I know thy words were meant kindly, and if thy president should ask to see me thou'lt tell him I've gone down the terraces and will return as soon as I have made search. This search should have been made before. That was not possible; the mist is only; just cleared, the brother answered, and Paul proceeded up and down the terraces till he reached the bridge, and after crossing it he mounted the path and continued it, venturing close to the edge and looking down the steep sides as he went, but seeing nowhere any traces of Timothy. Had he fallen here, he said to himself, he would be lying in the brook. But were Timothy lying there I could not fail to see him, nor is there water enough to wash him down into Jordan. It must be he is seeking his way to Cæsarea. Let it be so, I pray God, and Paul continued his search till he came to where the path twisted round a rock debouching on to the hillsides. We separated here, he said, looking round, and then remembering that they had been pursued for several miles into the hills and that the enemy's scouts might be lurking in the neighbourhood, he turned back and descended the path, convinced of the uselessness of his search. We parted at that rock, Timothy keeping to the left and myself turning to the right, and if anything has befallen he must be sought for by shepherds, aided by dogs. Only with the help of dogs can he be traced, he said, and returning slowly to the bridge, he stood there lost in feverish forebodings, new ones rising up in his mind continually, for it might well be, he reflected, that Timothy has been killed by robbers, for these hills are infested by robbers and wild beasts, and worse than the wild beasts and the robbers are the Jews, who would pay a large sum of money for his capture.

And his thoughts running on incontinently, he imagined Timothy a prisoner in Jerusalem and himself forced to decide whether he should go there to defend Timothy or abandon his mission. A terrible choice it would be for him to have to choose between his duty towards men and his love of his son, for Timothy was more to him than many sons are to their fathers, the companion of all his travels and his hope, for he was falling into years and needed Timothy now more than ever. But it was not likely that the Jews had heard that Timothy was travelling from Jericho to Cæsarea, and it was a feverish imagination of his to think that they would have time to send out agents to capture Timothy. But if such a thing befell how would he account to Eunice for the death of the son that she had given him, wishing that somebody should be near him to protect and to serve him. He had thought never to see Eunice again, but if her son perished he would have to see her. But no, there would be no time--he had appealed to Cæsar. He must send a letter to her telling that he had started out for Jericho. A dangerous journey he knew it to be, but he was without strength to resist the temptation of one more effort to save the Jews: a hard, bitter, stiff-necked, stubborn race that did not deserve salvation, that resisted it. He had been scourged, how many times, at the instigation of the Jews? and they had stoned him at Lystra, a city ever dear to him, for it was there he had met Eunice; the memories that gathered round her beautiful name calmed his disquiet, and the brook murmuring under the bridge through the silence of the gorge disposed Paul to indulge his memory, and in it the past was so pathetic and poignant that it was almost a pain to remember. But he must remember, and following after a glimpse of the synagogue and himself preaching in it there came upon him a vision of a tall, grave woman since known to him as a thorn in his flesh, but he need not trouble to remember his sins, for had not God himself forgiven him, telling him that his grace was enough? Why then should he hesitate to recall the grave, oval face that he had loved? He could see it as plainly in his memory as if it were before him in the flesh, her eyes asking for his help so appealingly that he had been constrained to relinquish the crowd to Barnabas and give his mind to Eunice. And they had walked on together, he listening to her telling how she had not been to the Synagogue for many years, for though she and her mother were proselytes to the Jewish faith, neither practised it, since her marriage, for her husband was a pagan. She had indeed taught her son the Scriptures in Greek, but no restraint had been put upon him; and she did not know to what god or goddess he offered sacrifice. But last night an angel visited her and told her that that which she had always been seeking (though she had forgotten it) awaited her in the synagogue. So she had gone thither and was not disappointed. I've always been seeking him of whom thou speakest. Her very words, and the very intonation of her voice in these words came back to him; he had put questions to her, and they had not come to the end of their talk when Laos, calling from the doorstep, said: wilt pass the door, Eunice, without asking the stranger to cross it? Whereupon she turned her eyes on Paul and asked him to forgive her for her forgetfulness, and Barnabas arriving at that moment, she begged him to enter.

And they had stayed on and on, exceeding their apportioned time, Barnabas reproving the delay, but always agreeing that their departure should be adjourned since it was Paul's wish to adjourn it. So Barnabas had always spoken, for he was a weak man, and Paul acknowledged to himself that he too was a weak man in those days.

Laos seemed to love Barnabas as a mother, and Laos and Eunice were received by me into the faith, Paul said. On these words his thoughts floated away and he became absorbed in recollections of the house in Lystra. The months he had spent with these two women had been given to him, no doubt, as a recompense for the labours he had endured to bring men to believe that by faith only in our Lord Jesus Christ could they be saved. He would never see Lystra again with his physical eye, but it would always be before him in his mind's eye: that terrible day the Jews had dragged him and Barnabas outside the town rose up before him. Only by feigning death did they escape the fate of Stephen. In the evening the disciples brought them back. Laos and Eunice sponged their wounds, and at daybreak they left for Derbe, Barnabas saying that perhaps God was angry at their delay in Lystra and to bring them back to his work had bidden the Jews stone them without killing them. Eunice was not sure that Barnabas had not spoken truly, and Paul remembered with gratitude that she always put his mission before herself. Thou'lt be safer, she said, in Derbe, and from Derbe thou must go on carrying the glad tidings to the ends of the earth. But thou must not forget thy Galatians, and when thou returnest to Lystra Timothy will be old enough to follow thee. He had fared for ever onwards over seas and lands, ever mindful of his faithful Galatians and Eunice and her son whom she had promised to him, and whom he had left learning Greek so that he might fulfil the duties of amanuensis.

The silence of the gorge and the murmur of the brook enticed recollections and he was about to abandon himself to memories of his second visit to Lystra when a voice startled him from his reverie, and, looking round, he saw a tall, thin man who held his head picturesquely. I presume you are our guest, and seeing you alone, I laid my notes aside and have come to offer my services to you. Your services? Paul repeated. If you desire my services, Mathias replied; and if I am mistaken, and you do not require them, I will withdraw and apologise for my intrusion. For your intrusion? Paul repeated. I am your guest, and the guest of the Essenes, for last night Timothy and myself were assailed by the Jews. By the Jews? Mathias replied, but we are Jews. Whereupon Paul told him of his journey from Cæsarea, and that he barely escaped drowning in the Jordan. In the escape from drowning Mathias showed little interest, but he was curious to hear the doctrine that had given so much offence. I spoke of the Lord Jesus Christ, Paul answered, the one Mediator between God and man who was sent by his Father to redeem the world. Only by faith in him the world may be saved, and the Jews will not listen. A hard, bitter, cruel race they are, that God will turn from in the end, choosing another from the Gentiles, since they will not accept him whom God has chosen to redeem men by the death and resurrection from the dead of the Lord Jesus Christ, raised from the dead by his Father. Mathias raised his eyes at the words "resurrection from the dead." Of whom was Paul speaking? He could still be interested in miracles, but not in the question whether the corruptible body could be raised up from earth to heaven. He had wearied of that question long ago, and was now propense to rail against the little interest the Jews took in certain philosophical questions--the relation of God to the universe, and suchlike--and he began to speak to Paul of his country, Egypt, and of Alexandria's schools of philosophy, continuing in this wise till Paul asked him how it was that he had left a country where the minds of the people were in harmony with his mind to come to live among people whose thoughts were opposed to his. That would be a long story to tell, Mathias answered, and I am in the midst of my argument.

The expression that began to move over Mathias' face told Paul that he was asking himself once again what his life would have been if he had remained in Alexandria. Talking, he said, to these Essenes who stand midway between Jerusalem and Alexandria my life has gone by. Why I remained with them so long is a question I have often asked myself. Why I came hither with them from the cenoby on the eastern bank, that, too, is a matter that I have never been able to decide. You have heard, he continued, of the schism of the Essenes. How those on the eastern bank believe that the order can only be preserved by marriage, while those on the western bank, the traditionalists up there on that rock in that aerie, would rather the order died than that any change should be made in the rule of life. In answer to a question from Paul he said he did not believe that the order would survive the schism. It may be, too, that I return to Alexandria. No man knows his destiny; but if you be minded, he said, to hear me, I will reserve a place near to me. My mind is distracted, Paul replied, by fears for the safety of Timothy; and perhaps to save himself from Mathias' somewhat monotonous discourse he spoke of his apostolic mission, interesting Mathias at once, who began to perceive that Paul, however crude and elementary his conceptions might be (so crude did they appear to Mathias that he was not inclined to include them in his code of philosophical notions at all), was a story in himself, and one not lacking in interest; his ideas though crude were not common, and their talk had lasted long enough for him to discern many original turns of speech in Paul's incorrect Greek, altogether lacking in construction, but betraying constantly an abrupt vigour of thought. He was therefore disappointed when Paul, dropping suddenly the story of the apostolic mission, which he had received from the apostles, who themselves had received it from the Lord Jesus Christ, began to tell suddenly that on his return from his mission to Cyprus with Barnabas he had preached in Derbe and Lystra. It was in Lystra, he cried, that I met Timothy, whom I circumcised with my own hand; he was then a boy of ten, and his mother, who was a pious, God-fearing woman, foresaw in him a disciple, and said when we left, after having been cured by her and her mother of our wounds, when thou returnest to the Galatians he will be nearly old enough to follow thee, but tarry not so long, she added. But it was a long while before I returned to Lystra, and then Timothy was a young man, and ever since our lives have been spent in the Lord's service, suffering tortures from robbers that sought to obtain ransom. We have been scourged and shipwrecked. But, said Mathias, interrupting him, I know not of what you are speaking, and Paul was obliged to go over laboriously in words the story that he had dreamed in a few seconds. And when it was told Mathias said: your story is worth telling. After my lecture the brethren will be glad to listen to you. But, said Paul, what I have told you is nothing to what I could tell; and Mathias answered: so much the better, for I shall not have to listen to a twice-told story. And now, he added, I must leave you, for I have matter that must be carefully thought out, and in those ruins yonder my best thinking is done.

Speak to the Essenes; tell them of my conversion? Paul repeated. Why not? he asked himself, since he was here and could not leave till nightfall. Festus had given him leave to go to Jericho to preach while waiting for the ship that was to take him to Rome, and he had found in Jericho the intolerance that had dragged him out of the Temple at Jerusalem; circumcision of the flesh but no circumcision of the spirit.... But here! He had been led to the Essenes by God, and all that had seemed dark the night before now seemed clear to him. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the Lord wished his chosen people to hear the truth before his servant Paul left Palestine for ever. He had been led by the Lord among these rocks, perhaps to find twelve disciples, who would leave their rocks when they heard the truth of the death and ascension of Jesus of Nazareth and would carry the joyful tidings to the ends of the earth.

CHAP. XXXIII.

The Essenes, ten in number, were seated in an embrasure. A reader had been chosen (an elder) to read the Scriptures, and the attention of the community was now engaged in judgment of his attempt to reconcile two passages, one taken from Numbers in which it is said that God is not as man, with another passage taken from Deuteronomy in which God is said to be as man. He had just finished telling the brethren that these two passages were not in contradiction, the second being introduced for the instruction of the multitude and not because the nature of man is as God's nature, and, on second thoughts, he added: nor must it be forgotten that the Book of Deuteronomy was written when we were a wandering tribe come out of the desert of Arabia, without towns or cities, without a Temple, without an Ark--ours having fallen into the hands of the Philistines. He continued his gloss till Mathias held up his hand and asked Hazael's permission to speak: the words that had been quoted from Deuteronomy, those in which the Scriptures speak of God as if he were a man, attributing to him the acts and motives of man, were addressed, as our reader has pointed out, to men who had hardly advanced beyond the intelligence of childhood, whose minds were still simple and unable to receive any idea of God except the primitive notion that God is a greater man. Now the reason for my interruption is this: I should like to point out that for those who have passed beyond this stage, whose intelligence is not limited to their imagination, and whose will is not governed by selfish fears and hopes, there is another lesson in the words: we can rise to the consciousness of God as an absolute Being, of whom we know only that he is, and not what he is, and this is what is meant when God is spoken of by the name I am that I am.