  Paul is arraigned before the Sanhedrim at Jerusalem. He had the day preceding been murderously set upon by a Jewish mob, from whose hands he was with difficulty rescued by a Roman officer, to be held as a prisoner supposed of infamous character. While Paul is thus held, a conspiracy of desperate Jews is formed by Shimei against his life. This conspiracy is fortunately discovered and exposed by Stephen, a young nephew of the apostle, acting at the instance of his mother Rachel, Paul's sister, and under the advice of Gamaliel, Paul's old teacher. THE EPIC OF PAUL. PLOT AND COUNTERPLOT. The Sanhedrim once more, with Saul arraigned, Saul now no longer, and no longer young, Paul his changed name, to note his nature changed. Confronting frown on him, a prisoner, Paul's colleagues of the days when he was Saul. Shimei, with smile, or scowl, uncertain which, Hatred and pleasure both at once expressed, Pleasure of hatred gratified, with more Hatred than could be wholly gratified— His pristine aspect worse and worse deformed. Sore vexed at heart were all the Sanhedrim That now the victim of their wished despite— Thrice the more hated as erst so beloved, Christian apostate the once zealot Jew!— The Roman sway had cited him—and them. For, yesterday, Paul in the temple-court Had with fierce violence been set upon By Jews who thought the holy place profaned Through his unlawful bringing thither in Of gentile Greeks—had there been set upon And thence dragged forth with blows that purposed death. But, as when Stephen suffered, so again Now intervened the Roman, and this time Forbade the turbulence and rescued Paul— Rescued, but double-bound his hands with chains. Demanding then who was the prisoner, And what his crime, and nothing learning clear Amid the hubbub loud of various charge, The Roman chiliarch was conducting Paul Into the castle, by the soldiers borne— Hardly so wrested from the eager hands Of those enraged who thirsted for his blood, And rent the air crying, "Away with him!"— When calmly to his captor-savior, he Addressed himself and asked, "May I to thee Exclaimed the Roman. "Art thou then not he, Not that Egyptian, who but late stirred up Sedition, and into the wilderness Led out a company four thousand strong Of the Assassins?" "I a Hebrew am," Said Paul, "of Tarsus in Cilicia, Of no mean city citizen. Let me, I pray thee, speak unto the multitude." Permitted, Paul, upon the castle stairs Standing, stretched forth his hand in manacles Unto the tumult surging at his feet, And, a great silence fallen upon those waves, Spoke in the Hebrew tongue to them and said: "Brethren and fathers, my defence hear ye." (The silence deepened at the Hebrew words.) "A Jew am I, who, though in Tarsus born, Was in this city bred and at the feet Of that Gamaliel taught the ancestral law With every scruple of severity, Burning in zeal for God, as now do ye. And I this Way hunted unto the death, Sparing from chains and from imprisonment Witness, and all the Jewish eldership. By these commissioned, to Damascus I Journeyed, that, thence even, I might hither bring For punishment disciples of the Way. And lo, as, journeying, nigh Damascus now I drew, at noonday round about me shone Suddenly a great light from heaven. To earth Prostrate I fell, and heard a voice that said, 'Saul, Saul, why art thou persecuting me?' 'Thou, thou—who art thou, Lord?' I said. And He: 'Jesus I am, Jesus of Nazareth, Whom thou art persecuting.' Those with me Beheld indeed the light, but to the voice That spake to me were deaf. And I then said, 'What wilt thou, Lord, that I should do?' 'Arise,' Said He, 'and on into Damascus go; What thou must do shall there to thee be told.' Blind-smitten with the glory of the light, Into Damascus guided by the hand I came. "There, Ananias, a devout Observer of the law, of good renown I felt him, though I saw him not, as he Paused standing there before me, and these words Spake: 'Brother Saul, receive thy sight.' And I, That selfsame hour my sight receiving, fixed My eyes on Ananias, when he said: 'The God of our forefathers hath of thee Made choice His will to know and to behold The Righteous One and from His mouth a voice To hear. For, witness shalt thou be for Him To all men of the things thou hast beheld And heard. And now why lingerest thou? Arise And be baptized and wash away thy sins, Calling upon His name.' "Thereafter I, Unto Jerusalem returned, and here Within the temple praying, into trance Passed, and beheld Him, as to me He said: 'Haste, from Jerusalem to go make speed, For witness will they not from thee receive Concerning Me.' 'But, Lord,' said I, 'they know Themselves how I, of all men I, imprisoned And scourged from synagogue to synagogue Thy martyr Stephen's blood, I, also I, Stood near, consenting, and their garments kept Who slew him.' But the Lord to me replied: 'Depart, for I will send thee forth far hence In mission to the Gentiles—" To this word The throng to Paul gave patient ear, but now— At sign and instigation, ambushed erst In waiting for the moment meet to spring, And springing pregnant from the ready wit Of Shimei, when that hateful hint was heard Of mission to the Gentiles through a Jew— Rose an uproar of voices from the crowd, As when winds mingle sea and sky in storm. "Away with such a fellow from the earth!" They cried; "it is not fit that he should live." A wild scene, for with outcry wild was mixed Wild gesture; the whole madding multitude Rent off their raiment, and into the air Dust flung in cloud as where a whirlwind roars. Astonished stood the chiliarch at the sight, Nor doubted that some monster was the man He bade bring Paul within the castle, there Bade scourge him that he might his crime confess. Already they had bound him for the thongs, When Paul to the centurion standing by Said, "Is it lawful for you then to scourge A man that is a Roman—uncondemned?" This the centurion hearing, straightway he Went to the chiliarch and abrupt exclaimed: "What is it thou art on the point to do? For this man is a Roman." Then to Paul Hastens the chiliarch and, perturbed, inquires: "Tell me, art thou a Roman?" "Yea," said Paul. Surprised, incredulous half, the chiliarch cried: "I with an ample sum that franchise bought." "But I," calmly said Paul, "was thereto born." At that word from their prisoner, the men Who ready round him stood the lash to ply Instantly vanished, and the chiliarch too Was panic-stricken—now in doubt no more That Paul a Roman was, whom he had bound For stripes, against a law greater than he, Nay, sacred as the sacred majesty Disguising empire!—law forbidding stripes On any flesh that Roman title owned. Paul slept, in Roman chains, the Christian's sleep, That night, but ill at ease the chiliarch tossed In troubled slumbers. He, with early morn, To council called the Jewish Sanhedrim, Set Paul unbound before them, and so sought The truth to know of what on him was charged. With calmly steadfast eye Paul faced his foes, But Shimei smiled in confidence of guile; Whatever the accused might seek to say, Affront should meet him and torment his pride. Paul, his fixed eyes pointing his moveless aim Full in the faces of the elders, said: "Brethren, in all good conscience have I lived In loyalty toward God unto this day." On such a claim from such a prisoner, Angry the high priest Ananias cried, "Smite him upon the mouth!" to those near by. Paul flamed in answering righteous wrath, and said, Flashing a lightning from his eyes on him: "Smite thee shall God, thou whited wall! And thou, And, the law breaking, biddest me be smitten?" The bolted word had flown and found its mark, And Paul stood quivering with the stern recoil. But the bystanders, tools of Shimei, In chorus of well-simulated zeal Of reverence toward authority, cried out: "The high priest, then, of God revilest thou?" Tempting the outraged man to further vent Volcanic of resentment at his wrong. But Paul had tutored down his rebel will; Meekly he said: "Brethren, I did not know That he the high priest was, for it is writ, 'Of one that rules thy people speak not ill.'" Through such self-recollection and self-rule, Paul, master of himself once more become, Became likewise master of circumstance. Marking that Pharisee and Sadducee Made up the assembly, he, with prudent choice, As Pharisee to Pharisee appealed. "Brethren," he cried, "a Pharisee am I, From Pharisees descended; for the hope That I this day am judged." Discord hereon Arose of Pharisee with Sadducee, Which atwain rent the whole assembly there. For Sadducee no resurrection owned, No angel, and no spirit; Pharisee These all confessed. A hideous clamor grew, And certain scribes, who with the Pharisees Sided, rose and, contending stoutly, said: "No evil find we in this man; and if, And if so be indeed, there hath to him A spirit spoken, or an angel—" Thus A hot dissension waxing, and afraid Become the chiliarch lest his prisoner be In sunder torn, the soldiery he sent To pluck him from amidst the wrangling crowd, And lodge him in the castle. The next night The Lord stood in theophany by Paul, And said: "Be of good cheer; as thou of me Hast witnessed in Jerusalem, so must Thou also yet witness in Rome." And Paul And slept a sleep so leavened with happy dream. But night-long lonely vigil Shimei kept, Stung from repose to study of revenge. At dawn, his hatch of hell, quick by the heat Of brooding hatred in that patient breast, Was ready to come forth and stalk abroad. 'Death to apostate Saul!' his public word, 'Death to that hated man!' was Shimei's thought. Thought not so much, as law to him of thought, Which formed and fixed the habit of the mind; His thought was simply, 'How to get Paul slain,' His feeling was a hatred bent to slay; Now, bent to slay; once, but to torture bent. This, partly because hatred is like love Herein, that it, by only being, grows— Until, at last, usurping quite the man, It overgrows him like a polypus; And partly because plot and act of hate Sting to find hateful more the hated one, Hate against whom is so self-justified. But Shimei's hate of Paul, antipathy At first, deep, primal, irreversible, And thence—from that time forth when in the hall Of council Saul disdained and flouted him— A conscious, fostered, festering grudge become— This hate, now grown by but persisting long, And much more grown through long self-exercise, Had yet, beyond the private argument, Its public ground of warrant for itself. Mocker though Shimei was, not less was he, To his full measure of sincerity, Sincerely in his mockery a Jew; His nation's scorn of Jesus was his scorn, And who loved Jesus for that cause he hated. Buoyed and supported by the spirit rife, The common conscience, of his countrymen, Nay, conscious of approval and acclaim Without him, as of genius blithe within Him, prompt to indirection and deceit, Shimei, far more than clear and confident, Felt also something of the fowler's joy In cunning, as for Paul his toils he spread. All this; yet all was not enough to fire The hate that burned sevenfold in Shimei's breast. Infused, Tartarean fuelling from beneath, A breath of hell to blow his hate so hot. No merely human hatred crucified The Lord of glory and the Lord of love! No merely human hatred followed Paul On his angelic errand round the world, With scourge, with ambush, with imprisonment, And mouth agape to drink that holy blood! Forty fanatic Jews were quickly found To bind themselves by a religious oath Of dreadful imprecation on their heads Neither to eat nor drink till Paul was slain. Prompt chance to slay him Shimei promised them; He would procure that, on the morrow morn, The chiliarch should desire to quit his doubt Concerning his strange prisoner, by one more Test of his cause before the Sanhedrim. Then, while from the near tower Antonia, Saul At leisure to their council-hall was brought, So large a number of sworn arms in league Might easily, with rash violence, breach their way To him amid his guard of soldiery, Spill his life-blood like water on the ground— Whence could not all the power of Rome again Gather it up to store his veins withal. So Shimei plotted, with the guile of hate; But, with a wiser guile, the guile of love, There counterplotted a true heart for Paul. Rachel that ministry of grace had plied For Ruth by Saul imprisoned, and for those Of Bethany bound with her—where, meanwhile, She for Ruth's children happy kept their home— Month after month, with inexhaustible Sweet patience and bright heart of hope and brave, Until, the soul of persecution slain In Saul converted, they were all let go Beneath their wonted roofs at peace to dwell; Rachel first welcoming Ruth safe home once more, And Ruth then welcoming Rachel still to bide. But Lazarus, toward Rachel, to and fro Daily seen moving, with that punctual truth To tryst so beautiful, more beautiful In her who was herself so beautiful, Or very silence, seemed a benison— Toward Rachel, such beheld—a crescent dawn Brightening upon him to the perfect day, Apocalypse of lovely—Lazarus, In secret, more and more felt his heart drawn, Through all the dreaming hours he passed in prison. Released at last, he told his heart to her, And Rachel learned to yield him love for love; So, Saul consenting gladly, they were wed. The eldest-born of Rachel now was grown A stripling youth, in face and person fair, Fair spoken, with a winning gift of grace In manner, and a conscious innocence, Becoming conscious virtue, written free In legend over all his lineaments, Where beamed likewise a bright intelligence, Alert, beyond such years, with exercise; For Rachel's had been long a widow's child, And long that widow's only, as her first. Stephen they had named their boy—for memory. It still was dark, deep dark before the dawn, When Rachel rose from wrestling sleepless dream "Stephen," said she, "my son, my heart divines Danger nigh imminent for one we love." "But, mother," said the son, "mine uncle Paul, If him thou meanest, is safe in citadel. Those Romans, heathen though they be, and void Of pity as the nether millstone is, Are yet in their hard way, and heathen, just. They have the power, as they have shown the will, To keep thy brother hedged from Hebrew hate." "From Hebrew hate, but not from hellish guile," Rachel replied; "and hellish guile, my son, Thy mother's heart, quickened with sisterhood, And, from some sad experience of the world, Suspicious—nay, perhaps, through deep divine Persuasion by the Holy Spirit wrought, Intuitive of the future, and on things Else hidden, inly privileged to look— Yea, hellish guile, my heart, somehow advised, Insists and still insists she knows, she feels, This hour at work against my brother Saul. Haste, get thee quickly to Gamaliel— For, with his gathering years, now nigh five score, Lighter and lighter grow his slumbers, ever Broken and scattered by the first cockcrow— Greet him from me with worship as beseems, And, telling him my fears, entreat to know If aught that touches his old pupil Saul, Haply an issue from the brooding brain Of Shimei to Saul's hurt, have reached his ear. Be wise, be wary, Stephen, whet thy sense, Fail not to see or hear whatever sign Glimpses or whispers, smallest hint that may Concern the safety of thine uncle Saul. How knowest thou but thy scouting walk this morn Shall rescue to the world, in need so deep, Yet many a year of that apostleship? Besides, with such a sun quenched from our sky, What then were day prolonged but night to us? Go, and thy mother here meanwhile will pray: 'Lord, speed my son, make him discreet and brave!'" Brave and discreet the boy had need to be; For, as he went, amid the rear-guard dense Steering his flying steps along the street, And watching wary, with tense eye and ear, To every quarter of the dim dumb world— A sudden thwarting ray that disappeared! He paused on tiptoe, leaning forward, stood One instant, with his hand behind his ear, To listen, while his noisy heart he hushed; And heard, yea, footsteps, with a muffled sound Of human voices sibilant and hoarse. What meant it? Nothing, doubtless, yet well were To be unseen, and see—if see he might— And hear unheard, until his way were sure. With supple swift insinuation, he Slipped him beneath the slack ungathered length Of a chance-left rolled tent-cloth at his feet. Two men—one bore a lantern, darkened deep Behind the outer garment that he wore— Drew nigh, and Stephen held his breath to hear The name of Saul hissed out between the twain. Slow was their gait, and ever and anon, Halting, they checked their words, and seemed to list, As if for comrades lingering yet behind. Lay breathlessly awaiting what might fall. First having paused, as hearkening from afar— To naught but silence—the two men sat down Upon that roll of tent-cloth, thus at ease To rest them, till the waited-for appeared. At Stephen's very ear, he in duress And forced to hear them, there those two ill men, Complotters in the plot to murder Paul, Unfolded in free converse all their scheme. Fiercely the listening boy forbade to cry The aching heart of eagerness in him, That almost rived with its desire of vent. Fear for himself could not have held him mute; Horror and hatred of that wickedness Swelled swiftly in his breast, so huge and hard, There must have sprung from out his lips a cry, Sharp like an arrow cleaving from its string, Had not great love been instant, stronger yet, Binding his heart to burst not, and be dumb. So there he lay as dead, so deathlike still, Until at length—the waited-for come up— They all went forward thence their purposed way. And, sped as with his anguish, his disdain, His indignation, to be silent—force Pent up in him from all escape but speed— Swift, like the roe upon the mountains, ran To find Gamaliel, where that ancient sage Sat on his dewy roof expecting morn. "Ra
chel my mother sends Gamaliel hail, And bids me haste to bring thee instant word!" So Stephen, with quick-beating heart that broke His words to pulses of sobbed sound, began: "She says—but I, in hither coming, learned More than my mother charged me with to thee. Lo, wicked men of our own nation plot This day to shed my mother's brother's blood. They will desire the Roman to send down Mine uncle Saul before the Sanhedrim, To be by these examined once again; But they will set upon him while he comes, And so, or ever he can rescued be, Make of mine uncle Saul a bloody corpse. O Rabbi, master of mine uncle Saul, Beseech thee, speak, bid me, what must I do?" The old man bent upon the boy his brow, And, slowly rousing without motion, said: "The world grows gray in wickedness, my son; What the Lord God of all intends, who knows? Most wise is He, but deep, in many ways, Past human finding out. Thine uncle Saul Is hated for himself by Shimei Yet more than for his cause. And Shimei Is doubtless the artificer of this." With inward adjuration then, a hand Uplifted as in gesture to repel, Gamaliel deeply added, "O my soul, Into the secret of such man come not!" Wherewith the aged tremulous lips were mute, Though mutely moving still, as if the words Said themselves over, again and yet again, Within him, of that ancient fending spell. Stephen, well-schooled in awe of the hoar head, Stood an uneasy instant silent, then Yielded to his untamable desire Of action and impatience of delay. "O Rabban," he importunately cried, "But thy young servant's soul already God Doubtless to baffle him—knew I but how!" "Yea, verily, Stephen; also that might chance," Gamaliel answered with benignity; He almost let grave admiration breathe, Through softly-lighted look and gentle tone, A kind of benediction on the boy, As he, unhastened, felt the youthful haste That made the stripling Stephen beautiful; "For David was a shepherd lad, when he Was chosen of God to lay Goliath low. Who knows but thou shalt save thine uncle Saul? I loved him long ago—when thou wast not; He went his way, and I abode in mine, Ways widely parting, but I love him still. And I would see him yet before I die. Tell him, Gamaliel would see Saul once more. Perhaps, perhaps, I might dissuade him yet. Thine uncle, lad, was ever from a youth Headstrong to think his thought and will his will. No man might bend him from his own fixed bent; If any man, then I; he honored me, And hearkened reason from Gamaliel's lips. Have not still left some saving power for him." Gamaliel spoke half as from reverie, Lapsed in oblivion of the present need. "Rabban Gamaliel," bold upspoke the boy, "Thy saving power I pray thee now put forth To pluck mine uncle from the jaws of death. I promise gladly then to bring thee Saul, If so I may, when, by thy counsel, I Have set him safe from those that seek his blood. These have their mouth agape already now, Their throat an open sepulcher for him. I see, I see them spring upon their prey— O master, master, must he die like this?" The passionate pleading boy dropped on his knees, And the knees clasped of the thus roused old man. "Yea, I remember," now Gamaliel spoke; "Weep not, my boy, but haste, my bidding do." Therewith Gamaliel clapped his aged hands, When instantly a servant to his call Stood on the roof with, "Master, here am I." "An inkhorn and a pen, with parchment; speed!" Shot from Gamaliel's lips, so short, so sharp "Make thou a table of my knees, and write," Gamaliel to forestalling Stephen said; "Write: 'I, Gamaliel, send this lad to thee; I know him; he will tell thee what concerns Thy hearing; thou canst trust him all in all.' There, so is well; now superscribe it fair: 'To the chief captain of Antonia.' Run, carry this—stay, I must sign it first With mine own hand for certainty to him. Up, haste thee to the castle, ask for Saul, Him tell what thou hast learned, and show him this; Saul will to the chief captain get thee brought, And thou hereby shalt win believing heed. No thanks, and no farewell, but thy feet wing!" So sped, but of his own heart better sped, Stephen quick got him to the castle gate, Where, with Gamaliel's seal displayed—his truth, Patent in face and voice, admitting him— He gained prompt privilege of speech with Paul. Paul heard the tidings that his nephew brought And, summoning a centurion, said to him: He has a matter for his private ear." So the centurion, taking Stephen, went To the chief captain, and thus spoke to him: "The prisoner Paul bade me to him and asked That I would bring this youth to thee, who has A certain matter he would tell thee of." The chiliarch looked at Stephen glowing there Before him in the beauty of his youth, A beauty that was more than beauty now, Touched and illumined into nobleness By the pure ardor of the soul within < |
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