  When the company next assemble, Publius greets them with a feast spread in his house. This gives occasion for his explaining the customs of his nation in the matter of recognizing various divinities at feasts. Paul replies, setting forth the Christian doctrine on this point. Mary, in due time about to begin her narrative, is seized with a sudden faintness, which however soon yielding to restoratives supplied by Ruth, she goes on and relates the incidents of the crucifixion of Jesus. THE STORY OF THE CROSS. "'Feast-master,' ye were pleased to call me, friends:" So in a cheerful humor Publius spoke, Bright-hearted welcome radiant on his face As vibrant in his brisk and cordial tones, Then when by concert after interval— Their appetite the keener from suspense— The selfsame company again were met Under his ample roof to hear the rest What Mary, or what Krishna, more might tell. They found the mansion furnished as for feast. Garlands of fresh leaf and of fragrant flower Hung everywhere about and frolic laughed A momentary mimicry of spring. A fountain playing in the court without Shot up its curving column to the sun; He caught the shattered capital in air, And, kindling every crystal water-drop Of all the circling shower to which it turned Into a jewel, sent the largess down, From form to form of light and rainbow hue— A glittering evanescence passing price, Sard, topaz, sapphire, opal, diamond-stone, Emerald and ruby, pearl and amethyst. That fountain, to the eye refection such, Plashed gentle-murmuring music in the ear. Couches and chairs about the board disposed Awaited. The guests' feet, as they reclined, Or sat—the woman sat, the men reclined— Were duly washed and wiped after the wont Of homage in those times and in those climes Accorded ever to the honored guest. While this was passing, the complacent host, Not in quite unpremeditated words Though from his heart, welcomed his guests and said: "'Feast-master' ye were pleased to call me late When of your own ye furnished forth the feast, Invisible viands, yet of savor rare. Then I was helpless, taken by surprise, And could do nothing to deserve my name. If, by your grace, I must feast-master be, Forewarned to-day, I venture to assume Leave of your goodness, and provide this cheer; Too obvious to the sight and touch and taste To be as delicate as yours, yet fruit Of hospitality sincere. Partake, I pray you, freely, and commend the food. With meat and drink refreshed, we shall not less, More rather, relish what of nobler sort May follow, entertainment to the mind." Paul answering with a grave sweet courtesy For all attuned that genial atmosphere To a chaste spirit of something finer yet Than genial, which prepared him easy way To saying: "And now, O Publius, unto God Most High, who gave thee what thou givest us, And gave thee likewise thy good will to give, That God in whom we live and move and have Our being, who of one blood made us all, Gentile and Jew together, and whose Son Christ Jesus died that we might be redeemed To fellow-sonship with Himself to God— Let us to God, All-giver, render thanks His gift unspeakable in Christ His Son." So, Publius assenting with bowed head And complaisance unspoken, Paul gave thanks. "Oblation of the lips in chosen words, Warm from the heart no doubt yet only words, O Paul, thou offeredst to the powers unseen Above us," Publius said soon after, while The equal feast they shared; "as if one God Alone thou worshippedst, All-giver named By thee: but we have gods and goddesses Diverse in name and office, unto whom We offer gift and sacrifice diverse According as may seem diversely meet. Apollo is the regent of the sun, Of the moon, Cynthia with her crescent bow; Pomona is our patroness of fruits, While Flora rules the gentle realm of flowers, And mother Ceres yields us corn and oil. Jupiter gives us weather, and he broods In fecund incubation from the skies Over the earth to quicken all that grows With moisture; but he sometimes frowns in cloud Know it was Neptune that stirred up the sea So, in that insurrection and revolt Against you late, and stranded you forlorn, Happy for me and mine! upon this isle; For Neptune is the sovereign of the wave. Those winds that blew meantime were breath in blast Puffed from the cheeks of Æolus who holds The invisible dominion of the air. The world is peopled dense with deities Whom well to worship all, is no light task. We build them temples, and on altars there Pour them out rivers of blood from victims slain; Blood is the favorite drink to most of them. The victims' flesh we offer them for food: They do not eat it; so we eat it for them. For instance now, these meats purveyed for you Ere going to the shambles to be sold, Were duly each presented to some god: So we may gratify our appetite, And feel that we are worshipping the while. But Bacchus is our hospitable god: A big, bluff, honest face we figure him, Him we best please by drinking of his gift, Not blood of beast but generous blood of grape, And spending a libation of the same, Tribute to him, the end of every feast." This spring and flow of talk idolatrous, Uncertain how much serious and how much A play of skeptic humor half ashamed, Was a sad note discordant to the tune Of chastened reverent feeling in the breasts Of men and women owning debt indeed For hospitality sincerely meant By Publius they well knew, yet paramount Allegiance owning to a jealous God Who brooked no name divine beside His own. All toward Paul turning waited, and he spoke: "O Publius, guests are we and thou art host; Most gracious we acknowledge thee to be, As most ungracious were we did we not, Or undiscerning. Thou hast honored us Using that frankness to set forth thy ways, Thine, and thy fellow countrymen's; ways yet Far alien from the ways endeared to us. Of frankness like thine own, declare to thee. "We count that thy so-named divinities Are nothing such as thou supposest them. They are not gods, since God is one, and will His incommunicable majesty Permit none other to partake with Him. Perhaps, when ye idolaters enshrine Reputed images of whom ye call Gods and these worship with your various rites, It is with some endeavor of your thought Beyond the sign to what is signified. But so even is your worship worse than vain. For there is nothing in the world—the world Of things existent, things substantial, real, Spirit or matter—that as counterpart Answers to these conceived resemblances, These idols framed by your artificers, Pretending to be images of gods; Nothing, I mean, that can be called Divine. Behind them there is something real indeed, But evil, not good; no such reality As that ye dream. Demons, not gods are they, Therefore we can but hate idolatry, And flee it as one flees a pestilence. "Forgive me, the affront is not to thee, Not to thy fellow worshippers misled, But to the kingdom of the Evil One, That emperor of the powers of the air Who for a season yet has sufferance here To practice his impostures on mankind. Thou therefore, O lord Publius, understand, Thou, and ye others not of Hebrew race, That we, full gladly sharing this fair feast, And out of true hearts thanking him our host, Know nothing of the dedications made Of meats or drinks partaken to those gods No gods; but give our worship and our praise Only to one God over all Most High, The Maker and the Ruler of all worlds, Jehovah named, blessÉd forevermore. Add to our debt, O Publius, also this, That I have spoken thus without offence." Paul ended with a look toward Publius, then Also toward Julius present there, which these Publius took counsel with quick sounding eyes On the centurion bent, and answered thus, His own thought by that other's fortified: "O Paul, have thou thy will; no will have I In this thing; all is one to me; our gods Are our conventions, and we worship them In form, but not in spirit. Strange to us It seems, us more enlightened than the crowd, Us who have tasted of philosophy, To see thee thus engaged in earnestness On the behalf of things not seen, not known." Paul broke in with a burst of testimony: "But I have seen, but I have known. The Lord, The Lord Christ, Son of God declared, from heaven Flashed in a sudden vision once on me, Sudden and swift, for both my eyes went blind." "It was a stroke of lightning blinded thee," Said Publius. "Nay, the sky was cloudless clear," Paul answered, "and the hour was high midnoon; The Syrian sun was shining in his strength. I know whom I believe and I adore And bless Him, calling on my soul and all That is within me to adore and bless Or whatsoever do, in word or deed, We His redeemed do all in our Lord's name, To God the Father giving thanks through Him." "Is this thy Lord to whom thou renderest thus Thy service, the whole service of a life," So interrupted Publius, "is this Lord The same as he whom Mary tells us of?" "The same, O Publius," answered Paul. "But he— I thought that he was put to death," replied Publius. "Yea, but He burst the bands of death, He rose in power and glory from the grave, He thence ascended far above all height Into the heaven of heavens beyond all thought, Where He sat down enthroned forevermore By the right hand of God;" so Paul, enrapt And with his rapture aweing all who heard. Publius then said, for now with meat and drink The appetite to each was satisfied: "O Paul, what thou thus sayest quickens in me Desire to hear the rest of Mary's tale. That death of shame, however undeserved, Yet fallen on him as if inevitable— Had, I will own, induced in me some doubt Whether the man who suffered it could be Indeed the worker of such miracles As those that Mary thought she saw from him. But his triumphant rising from the dead, His after showing of himself to thee, That, this, if that, if this, did happen—why, Such conquest over death and Hades won And by such proof assured to us, were much. But let us listen to what Mary yet Will tell us of the last things to that life And of the shameful death that ended it." Then, with the genial sun, somewhat declined From his steep noon, streaming his golden rays Into the room to qualify the cool; And with, beside, two ample braziers brought Of coals in ruddy glow, one at each end, To cheer the shadowed spaces of no sun, The company, in comfortable wise— After the fragments of the feast, with due Despatchful ministry of practised hands, Had disappeared, disposed themselves at will But Mary's words hung and she did not speak; Her voice had like a failing fountain failed, And drifts of pallor whitened all her cheek. A doubtful moment, and she swayed to fall In death or death-like swoon upon the floor. But Ruth who sat next quickly stayed her up; Then, letting her sink softly toward supine On her own bosom, held her resting thus. Resourceful ministration soon revived Her spirits to Mary, till she seemed herself Again, and thought that they might trust her now Not to disturb them more with cause for fear. So, with a certain added gentleness In tone and manner marking her, she spoke Thus, while the rest with added reverence heard: "That image of my Lord abides to me; I see Him as I saw Him when I heard 'Behold the man!' The memory of my eyes Is vivid and it seems to dazzle dark The vision that by faith I ought to see. I know and I believe that Jesus now Is glorious in the heaven beyond all reach But what he then was still will swim between, And I perforce see this instead of that. My ears ring with the maddening murderous shout Of the chief priests and rulers with the mob Mingling their voices now, 'Crucify Him!' 'He made himself the Son of God,' they cry. That frightened Pilate, and, 'Whence art thou?' he Asked Jesus, in his palace-hall withdrawn; But Jesus never answered him a word. Pilate was vexed, and tried browbeating Him. 'Speakest thou not to me? Dost thou not know I can release thee if I will,' he said; 'Or, if I will can send thee to the cross?' Then Jesus spoke. He said: 'No power is thine Save as bestowed upon thee from above. Therefore who gave me up to thee, he hath The greater sin.' "Pilate perhaps was awed, Or he perhaps, albeit a cruel man, Was truly for this once compassionate. However it was, he sought with quickened zeal To pacify the Jews for the release And he knew that they knew him, and when they Cried out, 'Thou art not CÆsar's friend, if thou Release this man; whoever makes himself A king, speaks against CÆsar,' Pilate then Trembled within his mind for guilty fear. He covered over his weakness with vain show Of mock and sarcasm as, with Jesus brought Forth from within before them, he exclaimed, 'Behold your king!' Tumultuously all Hooted, 'Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!' 'What! Crucify your king?' Bitterly said Pilate, dashing ruth with sneer. Those proud chief priests, eating their pride at once And God abjuring, said: 'We have no king But CÆsar.' Then he gave Him up to them. "But Pilate acted out before them all In symbol a purgation of himself. He had a basin of water brought, and washed His hands, and said: 'Lo, I am innocent Of this just blood; see ye yourselves to it.' And all my people shouted out a curse Upon themselves which for their sakes I fain Could have undone that dreadful curse! They cried, 'On us and on our children be his blood!' God waits yet, but not long, to wreak that curse. "That was the end of all until the cross. A multitude of people followed Him, As He went forth out of the city gate Bearing His cross to Golgotha, the place Where He should suffer. Thither going, they Met Simon a Cyrenean coming in, And, of some wanton humor seized, they made Him take the cross and bear it. With the throng Mingled, were many women who like me Wailed and lamented. But the Lord to us Turning said: 'Daughters of Jerusalem, Weep not for me; but for yourselves weep ye, Yea, and your children. For the days will come When, Blessed are the barren, ye shall say, And breasts that never nourished children. Lo, Then to the mountains men shall lift their cry, Fall ye upon us; Cover us, to the hills.' "While they nailed Jesus to His cross, He spake Upward He spake, praying, and not to them. 'Father,' He prayed, 'forgive them, for, behold, They know not what they do.' So there He hung, The Savior of the world, upon His cross. I saw the soldiers four whose watch it was Sit unconcerned—not knowing what they did!— And cast lots for the garments of the Lord. 'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews,' Pilate had written in three languages, Hebrew, and Greek, and Latin, on the cross; For so he gave his jeering humor play. The chief priests winced at this, and begged of him, 'King of the Jews, write not, but that he said, King of the Jews am I.' But Pilate spoke Curtly, 'What I have written, I have written.' There then the title stood, a bitterness Mixed in their cup of triumph to the Jews, And a truth deeper far than Pilate guessed. "Mary, the mother of the Lord, stood by; Jesus beheld her, and, close at her side, That one of His disciples whom He loved. A word then from those suffering lips which wrung To hear it spoken at such time as this. 'Woman,' said Jesus, to His mother speaking, 'Behold, thy son!' He meant John, for to him Likewise He spake, 'Behold, thy mother!' So Thenceforward Mary had with John her home. "There were chance passers-by that railed on Him, Not knowing, those too, what they did! They scoffed, Wagging their heads: 'Ha! Thou that couldst destroy The temple and rebuild it in three days, Save thyself now, and from the cross come down.' After the same sort the chief priests and scribes, Mocking among themselves, made mirth and said: 'Others he saved, let him now save himself! The Christ of God, the King of Israel, Let him come down now from the cross, and we, We, will believe on him.' Two robbers even Crucified with him joined the ribaldry, Tauntingly saying, 'Save thyself and us!' But one of them relented, touched with grace. When Thou art come into Thy kingdom!' Faith Like that, to see and to believe—despite The shame and seeming helplessness—the king In Jesus of a world beyond the world, Won on the Lord; and He—He too with faith, Sheer faith, faith far more wonderful in Him— Gave answer calmly as became the king, 'This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.' "It grew now to be near the point of noon, And there fell midnight darkness on the land Gross for three hours; it was as if the sun In heaven would not behold that wickedness. Then the Lord Jesus uttered a loud cry, The saddest that on earth was ever heard; 'Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani,' He said. Those are the first words of a psalm Prophetic of a suffering Savior Christ; They mean, 'My God, my God, wherefore hast thou Forsaken me?' That was the bitterness, That must, I think, have been the bitterness, Which most He dreaded in Gethsemane." Mary looked up toward Paul with eyes that asked Paul swerved a little from the point, but said: "The mystery of redemption! A great deep It is, to us unfathomable quite— Soundless as is the mystery of sin. But alienation and exile from God, Distance, and darkness, and abandonment, This, sin works of its own necessity; And this helps make the sinner's punishment. Therefore to feel a frightful sense of this Perhaps was needful to atone for sin." Paul so far only, and then Mary said: "The Savior's sense of that abandonment Must have been short, I think, as short as sharp. For following close upon that lonely cry, There came this word, 'I thirst.' It was as though— The imperious overmastering agony Of spirit past—the flesh, silenced before, Had leave to speak now witnessing its need. Anguished the word was, but it seemed relief To hear such sad acknowledgment succeed The desolation of that other wail. They brought a hyssop drenched in vinegar, That moisture loosed his tongue to speak once more, The utter last time that he ever spake— Until He used His resurrection voice. The words were: 'It is fini shed! Father, I Into Thy hands commend my spirit.' Loud He spoke thus, and therewith His head declined, Surrendering so His spirit up to God. It did not seem like dying, as men die Of sickness or of violence causing death. I could not but bethink me how He said Once, 'I lay down my life, no man from me Taketh it, of myself I lay it down!" So Mary, with a cadence in her voice That meant an end of speaking for that time. |
|
