{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_36342/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_36342","id":"gutenberg_36342","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36342","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Lazarus, of Bethany, Saint -- Fiction"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\n\n                            IN BOTH WORLDS.\n\n                                   BY\n                         WM. H. HOLCOMBE, M. D.,\n             AUTHOR OF \u201cOUR CHILDREN IN HEAVEN;\u201d \u201cTHE SEXES:\n                     HERE AND HEREAFTER,\u201d ETC., ETC.\n\n\nPHILADELPHIA\n_J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO_\n1870.\n\n\n\n\n\n       Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by\n                         J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.,\nIn the Clerk\u2019s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the\n                                 Eastern\n                        District of Pennsylvania.\n\n\nLIPPINCOTT\u2019S PRESS,\nPHILADELPHIA.\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                CONTENTS.\n\n\n                                 PAGE\nI.\nCAST OUT                           17\nII.\nCLOUDS GATHERING                   29\nIII.\nNIGHT BY THE DEAD SEA              39\nIV.\nIN THE WILDERNESS                  50\nV.\nTHE BANQUET                        60\nVI.\nTHE CHAMBER OF MAGIC               75\nVII.\nSAVED                              93\nVIII.\nBREAD ON THE WATERS               105\nIX.\nSACRIFICE                         119\nX.\nAT ATHENS                         132\nXI.\nHELENA                            141\nXII.\nTHE HALL OF APOLLO                149\nXIII.\nMY FIRST DEATH                    159\nXIV.\nMY SPIRITUAL BODY                 171\nXV.\nTHE WORLD OF SPIRITS              184\nXVI.\nTHE CHRIST ABOVE NATURE           193\nXVII.\nJUDGMENT OF THE JEWS              203\nXVIII.\nIMAGINARY HEAVENS                 214\nXIX.\nTHE MAGICIANS IN HELL             225\nXX.\nFRIENDS IN HEAVEN                 236\nXXI.\nTHE SPIRITUALLY DEAD              250\nXXII.\nBACK TO EARTH                     261\nXXIII.\nIMPRISONED                        271\nXXIV.\nBURIED ALIVE                      280\nXXV.\nWHAT HAD HAPPENED                 292\nXXVI.\nTHE CITY OF COLONNADES            305\nXXVII.\nHELENA AGAIN                      320\nXXVIII.\nTO THE LION                       334\nXXIX.\nCHRISTIAN CANDLES                 344\nXXX.\nTHE GREAT COMBAT                  355\nXXXI.\nFREE                              367\nXXXII.\nWHAT REMAINS?                     378\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                           A STRANGE DISCOVERY\n                               IN LIEU OF\n                                A PREFACE.\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nMany years ago I was enjoying in the harbor of New York the charming\nhospitalities of the officers belonging to one of the finest vessels in\nthe British Navy. The company was gay, cultivated and brilliant. Student\nand recluse as I then was, I was perhaps more delighted than any one\npresent with the conversation of those practical and polished men of the\nworld.\n\nAfter supper I was attracted to a small group of earnest talkers, of whom\nthe surgeon of the ship seemed to be the centre and oracle. He was\nspeaking of exhumations a long time after death, of mummies and\npetrifactions and other curious transformations of the human body. He\nstated that he had examined some of the skeletons which had been dug out\nof the ruins of Herculaneum. The bones were almost perfect after the lapse\nof eighteen hundred years. The complete exclusion of air and water seemed\nto be the only thing necessary to an indefinite preservation.\n\nThe chaplain of the vessel endeavored to give the conversation an \u00e6sthetic\nand semi-religious turn by analyzing the feelings of mingled awe,\nmelancholy and curiosity with which most men survey the remains of a human\nform\u2014feelings always heightened by the antiquity of the relic, and by the\ndignity of the person who lived and loved and labored in it.\n\n\u201cThe fundamental idea,\u201d said he, \u201cis a profound respect for the human body\nitself as the casket which has contained the spiritual jewel, the soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d remarked the surgeon; \u201cnothing but the lapse of a people into\ncannibalism can obliterate that sentiment. When the Egyptian embalmers\nwere ready for their work, a certain person came forward and made the\nnecessary incisions for taking out the entrails. He immediately fled away,\npursued by volleys of stones and curses from all the others. Hence also\nthe dissections of the dead by medical students are conducted with the\nutmost secrecy and caution.\u201d\n\n\u201cSchiller,\u201d said I, \u201cmakes one of his heroes remark that the first time he\nplunged his sword into a living man, he felt a shudder creep over him as\nif he had desecrated the temple of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cBesides the feeling of reverence,\u201d continued the clergyman, \u201cwe have the\nawe which death naturally inspires, the melancholy excited by the vain and\ntransitory nature of earthly things; and lastly, a tender and curious\ninterest for the brother-soul which has tasted the sweetness of life and\nthe bitterness of death, and passed onward to those hidden but grander\nexperiences which await us all.\u201d\n\n\u201cThose shocking Egyptian mummies,\u201d said one of the officers, \u201care so\ndisgusting that a strange horror is mingled with the gentler emotions you\ndescribe.\u201d\n\n\u201cI experienced that feeling,\u201d said another, \u201con reading an account of the\nexhumation of the remains, or rather the opening of the coffin, of King\nCharles I., two hundred years after he had been beheaded. It was\nincreased, doubtless, by the idea of the separated head and body, and the\nstrange and lifelike stare of the king\u2019s eyes, which collapsed like\nsoap-bubbles when they were exposed to the air.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere was something of the picturesque in that finding of a dead body by\nsome little children who were playing in a grotto in France. It was seated\non a stone bench and perfectly petrified, retaining, however, a sweet and\nplacid expression of countenance. The man was an old hermit, who\nfrequently retired into the deepest chamber of the grotto for religious\ncontemplation.\u201d\n\n\u201cImagine yourself,\u201d said I, \u201cin the silence and shadows of Westminster\nAbbey, peering through some crevice in an old vault and getting a sight of\nthe shrunken dust of Shakespeare.\u201d\n\n\u201cPassing from imagination to fact,\u201d said solemnly the old surgeon, \u201cI have\nseen the body of a man lying upon the ground where it had lain undisturbed\nfor eighteen hundred years.\u201d\n\n\u201cEighteen hundred years!\u201d exclaimed several voices at once.\n\n\u201cYes, eighteen hundred years; and I was the first person who set eyes upon\nhim from the day of his death until I got into the cavern where he\nperished.\u201d\n\n\u201cA romance! a romance!\u201d cried the minister. \u201cCome, doctor, be\ncommunicative and tell us all about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not a romance,\u201d said the doctor, \u201cbut the facts were certainly very\ncurious.\n\n\u201cWhen I was a young assistant surgeon, attached to the sloop-of-war\nAgamemnon, we were skirting leisurely the eastern shores of the\nMediterranean, and anchored one morning in sight of the ruins of the\nancient city of Sidon and opposite the westernmost spurs of Lebanon, the\nMont Blanc of Palestine.\n\n\u201cThere is only one picture grander than a view of Mount Lebanon from the\nsea, and that is a view of the sea from Mount Lebanon. I enjoyed the\nformer so keenly that I determined to obtain the latter also. We got up a\nparty of genial and stout fellows to ascend one of the highest peaks,\narmed with pick-axes, to obtain geological specimens on our way.\n\n\u201cWe had advanced but a short distance up one of the cliffs, when we\nstarted from the scanty undergrowth some little animal\u2014a wolf or jackal or\nwild dog, all of which abound on Mount Lebanon. We all joined noisily in\nthe chase, and soon ran the frightened creature into one of the deep\ncrevices or fissures made in the earth by the tempestuous rains of that\nregion. Our picks were immediately brought into play, and in a short time,\nto our very great astonishment, instead of digging the fugitive out of a\nlittle hole in the ground, we opened our way into what was evidently the\nrear or back part of a cave of considerable dimensions.\n\n\u201cOur party crawled in one after another, myself leading the way. The\ncontents of the place arrested our attention so strongly that we forgot\nthe object of our chase, which had buried itself in some holes or burrows\nat the side of the cavern. The floor was of a yellowish-white limestone,\nand all eyes were immediately directed, in the rather dim light, to the\nfigure of a man outstretched upon it.\n\n\u201cYes, it was a man whose entire body, clothing and all, had dissolved into\none blended mass, and so long ago that it looked rather like a great\nbas-relief of the human form projecting from the lighter-colored floor.\n\n\u201cThe shape of the head and of the long hair and beard was complete. One\noutstretched arm lay along the floor, and the fingers could be traced by\nlittle ridges separate from each other. The protuberances of all the bony\nparts showed that the skeleton still resisted the disintegrating process\nof decay.\n\n\u201cWhat an awful death he must have experienced! For there was not a single\nother object in the small space which remained of the cavern; not a stone\nwhich might have served for a seat or a table; not an earthen vessel which\nmight have contained a draught of water.\n\n\u201cThe fate of this unhappy being was evident. Whether he had lived in the\ncavern or whether he had taken refuge in it from some great storm, he had\nclearly rushed to the back part of it to escape some enormous landslide\nand caving in at the front, which had opened toward the sea. He had been\nburied alive! Having exhausted the little air that remained to him,\nstricken down by terror, despair and suffocation, he had rendered up his\nsoul to the great Giver in silence, darkness and solitude.\n\n\u201cThese facts were so obvious that we all lifted our hats before speaking a\nword; thus paying the tribute of human sympathy to a fellow-creature\neighteen hundred years after he had ceased to need it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did you fix upon the date of his death?\u201d asked the chaplain.\n\n\u201cYou will see. A large cylindrical case of bronze was lying upon the\nbreast of the dead man. He must have valued it highly, for he had clasped\nit to his bosom in the agonies of death. It was hermetically sealed with\nsuch ingenuity that we found considerable difficulty in breaking it open.\nIt contained a parchment of great length, and rolled tightly around a\nlittle brass rod. The parchment was closely written in beautiful Greek\ncharacters. It was perfectly preserved. Two small gold coins fell out of\nthe white dry sand with which the case had been filled. One of them bore\nthe inscription of Tiberius C\u00e6sar, and the other was stamped in the ninth\nyear of the reign of the emperor Nero. Thus in the accidental grave of its\nauthor had his book been safely preserved amid all the mutations of the\nworld.\u201d\n\nThe old doctor stroked his gray beard in silence, and I exclaimed:\n\n\u201cWho do you suppose this unfortunate man to have been?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat was revealed in the manuscript, but unfortunately not one of our\nparty could read Greek. I sent the case with its contents to an old uncle\nof my mother, who had a little curacy near Binghamton. He was a great\nGreek scholar, and devoted to his classical studies the little time he\ncould spare from the game of whist. I had a good deal of curiosity on the\nsubject, and wrote several times to my uncle from different parts of the\nworld before he condescended to reply. His answer was in substance this:\nthat the manuscript purported to be the autobiography of Eleazor or\nLazarus, whom Christ raised from the dead; that it was probably the work\nof some heretic monk or crazy philosopher of the second or third century;\nthat, interwoven with romantic incidents in this world and the other, it\ngave expression to many absurd and false doctrines; in fine, that it was\nnot worth my reading, and that I had better devote myself dutifully to\nkilling his Majesty\u2019s enemies on the high seas, than to searching old\ncaverns for apocryphal documents which impugned the sacred verities of the\nApostolic Church.\n\n\u201cAnd so,\u201d concluded the old surgeon, \u201cI have never thought any more about\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour uncle was no doubt right in his conjectures and wise in his advice,\u201d\nsaid the young chaplain. \u201cThe number and extent of the apocryphal\nimpositions upon the early Christian Church are almost incredible.\u201d\n\n\u201cWere you satisfied,\u201d said I, \u201cwith your good uncle\u2019s opinion?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have always believed,\u201d replied the doctor, evasively and with a roguish\ntwinkle of his eye, \u201cthat if the manuscript had contained the Thirty-nine\nArticles by anticipation, my uncle would have pronounced it divinely\ninspired.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat became of it?\u201d I inquired.\n\n\u201cOh, it was sealed up again and sent to the nursery as a plaything for the\nchildren. It is probably still in the possession of one of my cousins.\u201d\n\nThe strange story of the old surgeon made a profound impression upon me;\nfor in spite of the incredulity of all the other listeners, I believed\nfrom the first that the dust of that cavern was the dust of Lazarus, the\nbrother of Martha and Mary, and that the manuscript contained something of\ngenuine value to the Church and the world.\n\nThe opinion of the old curate and the echo of the young chaplain did not\nweigh a feather in my estimation. Young as I was, I had acquired that rare\nfaculty of thinking for myself. Besides, I had had learned enough of human\nnature to know that legal reforms are rarely suggested by lawyers; that\ndoctors always make war on a system of medicine better than their own; and\nthat priests instinctively repudiate anything which demands a\nre-examination of the fundamental doctrines of their theological systems.\n\nI had an inextinguishable desire to possess that manuscript, and set\nmyself earnestly about it. I cultivated the acquaintance of the genial old\nsurgeon, and contrived to render myself useful to him on more than one\noccasion. When he sailed for England I extorted from him a promise that he\nwould send me the manuscript of Lazarus which his orthodox uncle has so\nflippantly condemned.\n\nA good many years passed away, and I heard nothing from him. At length\ncame a package, and a letter from England couched in very handsome terms,\na part of which ran thus:\n\n\u201cMy beloved father on his deathbed made up the parcel which I now send\nyou, and requested me to transmit it to you with the following message,\nwhich he made me write down as the words fell from his lips:\n\n\u201c\u2018Forgive your old acquaintance for neglecting until death the matters of\nthe dead. Read what Lazarus says, while I go in person to verify or\ninvalidate his story. I have lived passably well, and I die comparatively\nhappy. Good-bye!\u2019\u201d\n\nI drew a deep sigh to the memory of the old surgeon, and set immediately\nto work studying and translating the manuscript. I found that a difficult\ntask. It was not written in very classical Greek, and besides, was full of\nHebraisms, which sometimes obscured the sense. There were not only many\nobscure things, but many things irrelevant, and many which would be\nregarded as absurd and even childish in the present age.\n\nIt soon became clear that a literal translation of the manuscript would\nnot be of any great interest to the general reader. I determined to take\nthe astounding facts narrated, as a skeleton or framework around which to\nbuild up a story of my own. This book is therefore a modern romance\nfounded upon ancient facts. The original might be called a prose poem.\nIndeed, much of it is in the poetical form; the description of Helena, for\ninstance, in the eleventh chapter.\n\nThe key to the whole book is, that here are the views and experiences of a\nman who, by what we may call a supernatural accident, was led into states\nof thought two thousand years in advance of his contemporaries.\n\nI present it to the public in a dress of the nineteenth century, hoping it\nwill reverse the decision of the old curate, who understood Greek and\nwhist better than he did the inappeasable hunger of the soul after the\nunknown, and perhaps, alas! the unknowable.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n                             In Both Worlds.\n\n\n\n\n\n                                    I.\n\n\n                               _CAST OUT._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nA serene and happy old age may delight in recalling the glory and the\ndream of youth, of which it is the crown and the fulfillment; but the\nwretched and desolate, nearing the grave, revert seldom to the past things\nof a life they are eager to exchange for a better.\n\nA solemn sense of duty to mankind impels me to be my own biographer.\n\nMy story is the most wonderful in the world: so wonderful that the men of\nthe present age cannot comprehend or believe me. I am spiritually alone.\n\nNone before me have penetrated consciously into the invisible world:\nexamined its structure and its people: and returned to his fellow-men,\nenriched and burdened with its awful secrets.\n\nThis have I done.\n\nI am Lazarus of Bethany, whom Christ raised from the dead.\n\nI have lived and died, and live again; and I await a second time the\nbitterness of death.\n\n\u201cLazarus,\u201d said they, \u201cis asleep or dead. That is all.\u201d\n\nAh! how little did they know!\n\nWhen I returned from the spiritual world, I had more wisdom than all the\nancients, than all the magi, than all the prophets. I could have enriched\nthe Church of God with spiritual treasures. I could have given light to\nevery mind and joy to every heart. I could have satisfied the hidden\nhunger and thirst of the human soul. I was not permitted to do it. They\nwould have rejected my gold and my frankincense and my myrrh. They would\nhave turned from my offerings of spiritual truth as a wild beast turns\nfrom a man when he offers it bread.\n\nI have lived many ages too soon. I will write what I have seen and heard.\nThe world of mind will grow with the coming centuries into the capacity of\ncomprehending what I alone now comprehend. These premature utterances will\nthen be understood.\n\n\n\nI was born in the little village of Bethany, which sits upon the eastern\nslope of Mount Olivet, embowered all summer in leaves and fruit. There\nwere four children in the family; and our mother died in giving birth to\nMary, the youngest and most beautiful. Our father was a man of great\nwealth and high social position, and we were reared in the lap of luxury.\n\nMy earliest recollection is that of playing in a large, terraced garden\nwith my brother and two little sisters. The garden was full of olive,\npomegranate, orange and date trees, and adorned with a great many shrubs\nand flowers. It was cool, fragrant and shady, and we sported about the\ntomb of our mother, which was cut in the solid rock, as merry and innocent\nas the birds and butterflies which shared with us the peace and beauty of\nthe summer day.\n\nI was ten years of age when Samuel, my younger brother, was taken from us.\nIt was the first real grief of my life. Although five years old when my\nmother died, I was too young to remember the incidents. The angels are so\nnear us in our infancy, that the troubles of the world, which are\nafterward engraved in marble, are then only written in water.\n\nLittle Samuel died calling my name. Oh that I could have obeyed his call,\nand followed him into that bright and peaceful sphere in which I saw him\nlong afterward, and in which I shall soon see him again!\n\nEarly on the day of his burial our father went into the chamber where lay\nhis little white body covered all over with whiter flowers. He knelt\nbeside it and wept bitterly. He seemed unconscious that his three little\nones had followed him, and stood pale and trembling at the door. When we\nheard the voice of his weeping we crept forward to the feet of our little\nbrother and wept also. Our father kissed us all tenderly, and controlling\nhis emotions and steadying his voice, he repeated from memory the\nbeautiful verses of Scripture which describe the grief and resignation of\nKing David at the loss of his child.\n\nThe body of our little brother was deposited in a niche in the rock close\nto the dust of his mother. The garden was avoided as a playground for a\nlong while. I was busy with my books, Martha with her dolls\u2014both rendered\nthoughtful beyond our years. One day little Mary ventured into the garden\nalone, but presently came running back and buried her golden head in her\nsister\u2019s lap in a shower of tears which needed no explanation. Who can\nread the little child\u2019s heart? Perhaps some playmate bird had called to\nher: \u201cRosebud! rosebud! where is your brother?\u201d\n\nThen came the years of school and opening thought and expanding faculties,\nand the first appearance of affections and passions, no longer the\ndewdrops of the spring morning, but the beginnings of deep and swift\ncurrents in the course of life.\n\nMy sisters were remarkable women, differing in style and character; yet\neach a perfect picture of female loveliness!\n\nMartha grew tall and firm and straight, with long black hair and black\neyes, a brunette complexion and a finely-cut oval face. She was the\nimpersonation of a pure and intelligent womanhood. She was active,\nobservant and critical. She regulated her life by lofty principle as well\nas by noble impulse, and there was something about her that always\nimpressed you with the idea that she was brave and strong as well as\ngentle and pure.\n\nMary was fragile in form, willowy and graceful in motion, soft and winning\nin manners. Her eyes were blue and sparkling with the tender dew of\nsentiment. The lily and the rose contended for supremacy on her face, and\nsunbeams nestled always in her hair. She was the impersonation of a loving\nand love-awakening womanhood. Her voice, her smile, her tear, expressed in\nthe most extraordinary manner the sensitive emotions of her soul.\n\nMary was my lily; Martha my rose. Martha was my ruby; Mary my pearl.\nMartha was reason; Mary was sentiment. Martha was wisdom; Mary was love.\nMartha was faith looking fixedly at the stars; Mary was charity looking\ntrustfully beyond them to God.\n\nMy father took a deep interest in the education and general training of\nhis children. He provided us with the best teachers in every branch, but\nlet nothing escape his own watchful supervision. It was greatly due to his\nintelligent care and the inspiring stimulus of his affection, that we\nattained a degree of mental and social development rarely witnessed in\nchildren of our age.\n\nA dark cloud hung over this good and wise father and his happy little\nhousehold.\n\nHis health had been gradually failing for a long time. He grew languid,\nlost appetite, and became slow in his gait and stiff in his motions. He\nabandoned his business in the city, and rarely went out of the house. He\ndeclined receiving visitors, until our home, which had been so gay and\nbrilliant, became quite deserted and lonely. But his mental condition\nunderwent a change altogether incommensurate with his physical symptoms.\nHe became silent and melancholy, and so unlike his former patient and\nsweet self! He repulsed every attempt on our part to inquire into the\nnature or cause of his troubles. His mental faculties were also greatly\nweakened.\n\nWe could not comprehend the meaning of all this. We became very unhappy.\nWe knew he was wealthy, honored and beloved\u2014in possession of all that men\ncovet for good or evil ends. The country was in a state of profound\nrepose. It was incredible that the mere approach of sickness and death,\ncould so change the character of a good and brave man.\n\nMy father was now frequently closeted with Caiaphas, a young priest of\nstately appearance and ingratiating manners. I became very anxious to\nlearn the subject of these prolonged interviews. I once questioned\nCaiaphas at the gate about my father\u2019s condition; but he evaded me\nadroitly. At last my curiosity, prompted by filial love, triumphed over my\nsense of propriety, and I crept to my father\u2019s door one night, when he and\nCaiaphas were together, and applied my ear to the keyhole. For a long time\nthe tones were too low for me to catch any meaning; but my father suddenly\nraised his voice in an excited manner\u2014\n\n\u201cI assure you he is a thief and a robber, and addicted to magic. O\nCaiaphas! save my children and their property from this monster!\u201d\n\nI was terrified at these words, and slipped away in the darkness. There\nwas the secret of my father\u2019s grief. He expected to die very soon, and was\nanxious for the fate of his children when he was taken from them. I wept\non my bed nearly all night at the idea of losing my good parent. But who\nwas this monster he so much dreaded? That set me to thinking.\n\nWhen a man died, his minor children and property passed under the\nguardianship of his next of kin. My father had no brothers in Judea, for\nhis only brother had wandered off more than thirty years before. He was an\neccentric character who forsook his religion and changed his name. Beyond\nthat we knew nothing of him. Nor did my father even know where to find\nhim.\n\nHis only sister was married to Magistus, a citizen of Bethany. She was a\nconfirmed invalid and never seen. In the event of my father\u2019s death we\nwould fall to their care. Magistus then was this terrible monster, a thief\nand a magician. I was confirmed in this conclusion by the fact, that my\nfather and Magistus had long been on bad terms; and my father was not the\nman to withdraw his friendship from a worthy person.\n\nMagistus was a thin, sallow, ugly old man, with an immense hooked nose\nlike the beak of a bird of prey. His black eyes were small, fierce and\nsly. He had a long dingy beard which he had twisted like a screw.\nNotwithstanding this sinister appearance, he had the reputation of being a\ngood and wise man. People speak well of a rich man who seems always to\nretire modestly from the public eye. Magistus moreover was a great friend\nof the priesthood and a favorite with the priests.\n\nI could not reveal to my sisters the approaching death of our father and\nthe fears he had expressed about our legal guardian. I was astonished and\nsomewhat relieved when he passed the warmest eulogy upon Caiaphas the next\nmorning, and told us to look to him for comfort and to rely on him for\nhelp in the greatest emergencies. What astonished me still more was, that\nthis reliable friend never visited my father again.\n\nWe were greatly distressed that no medical aid was called in. The\nsuggestion was always repudiated with a strange earnestness. Whatever the\ndisease was with which our father was afflicted, he was plainly growing\nworse and worse. At last he refused to quit his chamber, or to admit any\none into it. He commanded a little food and water to be placed upon a\ntable on the gallery underneath his window; and what was singular, he only\ntook it in during the night when no one saw him. These things threw us\ninto the saddest consternation. We began to fear that he was losing his\nreason. We were frantic with excitement. We determined to see him and\nnurse him. We knocked at his door and window and entreated him to show\nhimself to his children.\n\nAt last he called out in a voice which showed he had been weeping:\n\n\u201cCalm yourselves, my children! and pray to God. A great evil has come upon\nus, which can be concealed but a little longer. My soul is overwhelmed\nwith misery, but my heart beats for my children with the tenderest love.\nAsk me nothing at present; it is more than I can bear. If you love me and\nwould obey me, keep away entirely from my chamber. Let no one come into\nthe house\u2014and least of all, your uncle Magistus.\u201d\n\nWe were reassured of his love and his rationality by these words; but they\nfilled us with a vague terror and overwhelmed us with sorrow. We had no\none to appeal to, no one to consult. We were commanded to keep everybody\naway. Thus several weeks of fearful suspense rolled by. The neighbors\nbegan to inquire about my father. His seclusion became the wonder and talk\nof the village. The interrogations, always disagreeable, became absolutely\nimpertinent. The mystery had excited suspicion.\n\nWorse than all, Magistus became a regular visitor to the gate. He\nquestioned the porter in the subtlest manner. He obtained from him the\nfacts that my father had never received any medical attention, that he had\nconcealed himself in his chamber, and had not been seen for weeks, even by\nhis children. He evinced the liveliest satisfaction. \u201cThe apple will soon\ndrop,\u201d said he aloud to himself. All this was faithfully reported to us.\nThree little sparrows in a nest among the green leaves, could not have\nbeen in greater trepidation with an ugly bird of prey gazing at them from\na neighboring branch.\n\nThe d\u00e9nouement approached. We were whispering our sorrows together one\nday, seated by the little fountain in the inner courtyard of the house,\nupon which the door of our father\u2019s chamber opened. Suddenly voices and\nfootsteps were heard approaching. A moment after Magistus appeared,\nfollowed by a venerable-looking old priest and stately Roman centurion. My\nsisters clung to me in terror.\n\nWithout noticing us, the party rapped loudly on my father\u2019s door, and\ncommanded him to come forth. \u201cIn the name of the Mosaic law,\u201d said the\npriest; \u201cand by order of the Roman governor,\u201d added the centurion. The\nwords were repeated in a louder voice: the door slowly opened and my\nfather stepped out, exclaiming, \u201cUnclean! unclean!\u201d\n\nAll fell back several paces.\n\n\u201cThe scourge of God!\u201d said the priest with deep solemnity.\n\n\u201cDamnable Eastern plague!\u201d muttered the Roman soldier.\n\n\u201cIncurable! incurable!\u201d exclaimed Magistus.\n\nIt was the leprosy!\n\nThat ghoul of diseases, which slowly devours a living victim, had made\nfearful ravages upon my poor father\u2019s frame. His eyebrows and eyelashes\nwere gone; his chin and ears were much swollen, and a pearl-white scaly\nulcer deformed his forehead; his hands had a sickly and withered\nappearance.\n\nWe now understood the meaning of his strange conduct. The disease began\nfirst about the joints and the covered parts of his body. As soon as it\nbroke out on the skin, the poor man had shut himself up to conceal his\naffliction and to avoid contaminating his family. Knowing himself stricken\nwith a disgusting and incurable malady, which would exclude him from\nsociety and drive him away from his children, he bore the burden of his\nawful secret alone. Magistus had discovered his condition, and anxious to\nrevenge himself upon virtues he could not imitate, and to get possession\nof the property, he laid the case before the authorities, and insisted\nthat the law of separation should be executed upon his brother-in-law.\n\nAs the unhappy man stood in the doorway, he turned his eyes upon the pale\nfaces of his terrified children, and, silently wringing his hands, looked\nupward to heaven. He was turning away, when all three of us sprang forward\nat once, and with cries which would have moved the coldest heart, fell at\nhis feet and clung about his knees.\n\n\u201cTouch me not! my sweet children!\u201d he exclaimed, in a hoarse and feeble\nvoice. \u201cTouch me not. It is all over! Caiaphas will befriend my orphans.\u201d\n\nHe had not finished the words before several strange domestics, who had\nrushed in at a signal from Magistus, proceeded to drag us from the spot.\n\n\u201cAway with them!\u201d said the hideous old man, fiercely. \u201cConfine them in the\nfarthest room. We want no young lepers\u2014no more scourges of God.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it were a scourge of God,\u201d cried I, struggling to escape, \u201cit would\nhave been sent upon you and not upon my noble father.\u201d\n\nWe were carried weeping out of the courtyard. Looking back to the door, we\nsaw the unhappy man waving his last adieu to us with his poor, sickly,\nwithered hands.\n\nThe Mosaic law against the unfortunate leper was cruelly severe; but the\nRoman power which occupied the country and feared the ravages of leprosy\namong the soldiery, added greatly to its force and to the stringency of\nits execution.\n\nThe leper was sentenced to a social and civil death far more terrible to a\nman of sensibility than the mere separation of soul and body. He was\ndriven from the face of his fellow-men, and dwelt in caves and hollow\ntrees and deserted ruins. No one was permitted to touch him, to approach\nhim, or even to speak to him. He was compelled to cry out, Unclean!\nunclean! so as to warn every one of his dangerous proximity. He became\nliterally the wild man of the woods and the mountains and the desert\u2014the\ncompanion and sometimes the prey of wild beasts.\n\nThose who had friends and money had little huts erected for them in remote\nbut safe places, and were amply provided with food and even luxuries by\nservants who deposited the articles upon the ground at a considerable\ndistance from their habitations.\n\nSuch was the fate of our good and generous father\u2014the idol of our hearts\nand the model of all social and heroic virtues.\n\nWe spent the night in tears, and the next day in an agony of grief. I do\nnot know who witnessed the dreadful ceremonies of the law. He was examined\nby the proper inspectors, and pronounced unclean and incurable. He was led\ninto the great highway. The people stood afar off. The priest in a loud\nvoice pronounced the curse of God upon him\u2014the service of the dead over\nthe living body. He cut him off from the congregation of Israel. The\nguards then drove him before them into some uninhabited place, and he\ndisappeared from the sight of men.\n\nHe was always visible, however, to the hearts of his three little orphans.\nWe followed his steps with filial vigilance. We saw him toiling along in\nthe sand of the desert, and we shared his burden of heat and hunger and\nthirst. We saw him seated under a palm tree, or in the shadow of some\ngreat rock, and we felt the sorrows of his thoughts as if they were our\nown. We saw him kneeling by the brook, and we mingled our prayers with\nhis. We saw him sleeping in his lonely hut, lighted only by the moon, and\nwe were comforted by his dream of angels and heaven.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   II.\n\n\n                           _CLOUDS GATHERING._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWe were now orphans, and of that kind most to be pitied, who have fallen\ninto the hands of a cold and selfish step-uncle. He had a father\u2019s power\nover us, without a father\u2019s affection to regulate and sanctify it. There\nwas no one to supervise his conduct toward us; no appeal from his baseness\nor cruelty, unless his acts were so flagrant and unconcealed as to call\ndown the vengeance of the laws.\n\nThis uncle whom we so much dreaded and had so much reason to dread, wore\nat first a smooth and pleasing mask. He came every day to see us, and\nendeavored by as much civility and kindness as he could counterfeit, to\nsoften our feelings and satisfy us with our condition. He professed the\ndeepest sympathy for our poor father\u2019s calamity. He regretted the severity\nof the Jewish and Roman laws on the subject of leprosy, but excused them\nas a necessary protection to society. He assured us that our father had a\ncomfortable lodge on the border of the wilderness, and that servants were\ndespatched every other day with fresh supplies of food and wine and water.\nThis assurance brought tears to our eyes and comfort to our hearts.\n\nWhen the storm of our grief had abated a little, we requested to see our\naunt; for we yearned for the presence and sympathy of woman. Magistus\nconducted us over to his residence which adjoined our own, but fronted\nupon another street. A high brick wall separated his garden from ours. He\nhad a door cut in this wall so as to facilitate the passage from one house\nto another. His mansion was completely concealed from the public eye by a\nthick grove of trees which surrounded it. In the most retired chamber of\nthis quiet and really beautiful place, we found Ulema, my father\u2019s invalid\nsister.\n\nShe was a middle-aged woman of extreme thinness and pallor. Her face was\nwaxen-colored and ghastly. There was a wild terrified expression about her\nblack eyes, which was absolutely painful. She had evidently been a great\nsufferer in mind and body. She received us with a faint, sickly smile, and\nthen her features assumed an expression of profound pity. We supposed this\nwas on account of the loss of our father. We did not know the reasons\nwhich the poor woman had for pitying any one who came within the shadow of\nMagistus.\n\nAfter the interchange of a few commonplaces, our uncle cut short the visit\non the plea of Ulema\u2019s feeble and nervous condition. This visit was\nrepeated every Sabbath after the morning sacrifice. Magistus always\naccompanied us, and drew us away as quickly as possible. My aunt had\nalways the same expressions of terror and pity. Thus our repeated\ninterviews added nothing to our knowledge of her character. In vain we\npetitioned Magistus to let us live with our aunt, or to let us visit her\noftener, or to let us stay longer.\n\nOur own home was sadly changed. The furniture, the pictures, the statues,\nthe fountain, the flowers, were all the same, but there was an air of\nsilence and melancholy about the whole place, as if the inanimate objects\nhad felt and shared the misfortunes of the orphan children. There was a\ndifferent sphere around us, a different light upon us. The organizing and\nunitizing spirit was gone;\u2014the good and wise father, who made all happy\nand cheerful about him, and held his little household together in the\nsweet bonds of perfect order and peace.\n\nIt was a cruel act of Magistus to substitute servants and creatures of his\nown for those who had been with us from our infancy. We were soon\nsurrounded by strange faces, so that our father\u2019s house began to appear to\nus, what it really was, a prison. The domestics of an establishment\nacquire in time a coloring from the kind of life within it, as insects are\ncolored by the leaves and bark of the trees they inhabit. Ours were\nrespectful, obedient and cheerful; these were cunning, insolent and\ndishonest.\n\nThe chief butler or head servant was, however, a good character, who plays\na remarkable part in my story. He was an African about thirty years of\nage, very black and homely. He was a eunuch, and dumb. These\ndisadvantages, which at first excited a feeling of repulsion, were atoned\nfor by a singular kindness, deference and sympathy, which were displayed\nin his features and manners. The other servants held him in great awe; for\nhe had been brought from Egypt about three years before by a magician, and\nwas supposed to be gifted with supernatural power.\n\nIt was this advantage in command, as well as a certain kind of talent,\nindustry and reliability, which induced Magistus to give him the supreme\ncharge of both households. He had been with us but a few days, before he\nhad quite won our hearts by his friendly attentions and evident sympathy\nfor our distress. I, who had been made suspicious by my father\u2019s opinion\nof our guardian, detected in the face of Ethopus (for that was his name)\nthe same expression of pity which shone in the features of our sick aunt.\n\nAll this, however, he concealed from Magistus with the greatest care; for\nhe was always cold and impassive toward us in the presence of his master.\nUnfortunately Ethopus was dumb. His communications at this time might have\nbeen of incalculable service to us. I endeavored to learn something of the\nhabits and character of my uncle from the other servants, but on that\nsubject they were as dumb as Ethopus; for whenever I approached it, they\nmanifested signs of fear, and invariably put the finger on the lip.\n\nI became dissatisfied with this secresy. I resolved to teach Ethopus to\nread and write, so that he might tell me his own story, and initiate me\ninto the mysteries and dangers of my position. He comprehended my idea at\nonce, and came to me secretly at hours when he knew Magistus was absent.\nHe had made some little progress,\u2014though the difficulties of the first\nsteps were very great,\u2014when one evening Magistus walked slyly in and\nsurprised us at our studies. We had been betrayed by one of the servants,\nwho all acted as spies on each other.\n\nMagistus was in a towering passion. He beat Ethopus severely,\nnotwithstanding my protestations that I alone was to blame\u2014and drove him\nfrom the room.\n\nTurning fiercely upon me, he exclaimed:\n\n\u201cDo you not know the crime, the danger of teaching that man to write?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, uncle!\u201d said I, \u201cwhat harm is there in bestowing the light of\nknowledge upon a poor dumb slave?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was made dumb to keep him from betraying secrets.\u201d\n\n\u201cHorrible!\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cNot my secrets,\u201d he added, cautiously, \u201cbut his former master\u2019s. If Simon\nMagus thought he could write, he would come all the way from Egypt to cut\nhis heart out of his body.\u201d\n\nAfter that event, the sphere of Ethopus\u2019 duty was changed, so that we\nrarely saw him.\n\nSeveral weeks passed away, and we wondered why Caiaphas, from whom our\nfather expected so much, did not come to see us. He was to aid and\nbefriend us, and, as I hoped, to deliver us from the control of Magistus.\nHe had evidently promised all that to our dear father. The priestly\nauthorities, if properly applied to, surely would not permit the children\nof a good and devout man to continue under the influence of a thief and\nmagician.\n\nCaiaphas at last came. His visit was short: his manner constrained but\npolite. He sympathized briefly with our affliction; explained and defended\nthe Mosaic laws against leprosy; eulogized our father in eloquent terms;\nand congratulated us on having such a worthy uncle, who would train us so\ncarefully in the faith, and who would make our home so happy.\n\nAnd this was the result of the secret interviews with my father, and of\nhis solemn warnings against Magistus as a thief and a magician! I was\npuzzled and disappointed. I could not help saying:\n\n\u201cDid you know, O Caiaphas! that my father entertained a very different\nopinion of this good uncle?\u201d\n\n\u201cRemember, my son,\u201d said he, somewhat abashed, \u201cthat your father was very\nsick, and his mind greatly impaired. There was no foundation whatever for\nhis unhappy suspicions. Obey your uncle like good children, and you will\nfind him all I have represented him to be.\u201d He then retired.\n\nI was too young and ignorant of the ways and wiles of the world, to\nsuspect that this priest had been all along in collusion with Magistus,\nand was to share with him in the plunder of the orphans of his friend.\n\nThe words of my father rang in my ear and continually haunted my mind: \u201cHe\nis a thief and robber, and addicted to magic.\u201d\n\nI asked my uncle one day, in a very quiet manner, his opinion of magic.\n\nHe looked at me severely and answered:\n\n\u201cWhat are the words of Moses on the subject? Listen: \u2018A man or a woman\nthat hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to\ndeath. They shall stone them with stones.\u2019\u201d\n\nThis did not convince me that my father was in error.\n\nMonths passed; and a gradual and saddening change was creeping over our\nlife and its surroundings. I had detected no robbery, no magical\npractices; but I had no faith in my uncle. Cautious and reticent as he\nwas, he could not conceal some of the ugly points of his character. He was\nviolent and cruel in his dealings with his slaves. He was addicted to\nfalsehood, and in both opinion and practice was destitute of charity. His\nstrict observance of the ceremonial law and his intense ritualism, could\nnot conceal from me the fact that his heart was wholly untouched by the\nspiritualizing influences of true religion.\n\nHe ceased after a while to take us to see our aunt. Our teachers in\nvarious branches were not re-engaged, or were dismissed. Education came to\na stand-still. Company was excluded from our house. His own was opened at\nnight to suspicious characters. By bribing one of his servants one dark\nnight, I obtained admission to his courtyard, and discovered, by muffled\nsounds of music and dancing, that a bacchanalian revelry was going on\nunderground. He sometimes betrayed the next day, in his face and manner,\nthe effect of these midnight orgies.\n\nIn the mean time my beautiful sisters pined, neglected and sorrowful.\nMagistus rarely visited them; and when he did, he was guilty of coarse\nfamiliarities which shocked and repelled them. I summoned courage, boy as\nI was, on one of these occasions to reproach him bitterly for these\nthings; for neglecting our education, our dress, our manners, our\ncomforts; and for falling himself into habits which would certainly lead\nto the ruin of us all. He stared at me insolently, and said that I had\nbetter get my father\u2019s friend Caiaphas to revise his guardianship.\n\nLike a man who sits helpless in a boat without oars, gliding down a swift\ncurrent, and hears the far-off but inevitable cataract, I contemplated the\ndark future that awaited us. I grieved for my sisters more than for\nmyself. We had just been mourning together one day over our sad fate, when\nMagistus came into the room. He had held a long private interview that\nmorning with a strange man of gigantic size and very coarse manners, whose\nappearance, as he entered the guest-chamber, excited my gravest\nsuspicions.\n\n\u201cYou complain so bitterly,\u201d said he, looking reproachfully at me, \u201cof the\ngeneral decay and ruin into which everything about here, animate and\ninanimate, is falling, that it is surprising you have not yet intimated\nyour doubts about your father getting his proper supply of provisions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no, uncle!\u201d said Mary, tenderly, \u201cyou could not forget so sacred a\nduty as that. Surely no one ever hinted such a thing. The thought of it\nwould drive me mad.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish you to satisfy yourselves perfectly upon that point,\u201d he\ncontinued, in the tone of a man who thought himself aggrieved. \u201cA trusty\nservant is to convey to him a basket of things the day after to-morrow.\nLet Lazarus accompany him. Let his daughters send some little presents.\nHis son can see him and even speak with him at a distance. He can see his\nlodging and satisfy himself that he is comfortably situated.\u201d\n\n\u201cWithout confessing, uncle,\u201d said I, \u201cthat this visit is necessary for my\nfaith in your attention to my father, I concede that it will give me very\ngreat pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long will he be gone?\u201d said Martha.\n\n\u201cIs there no danger?\u201d said Mary.\n\n\u201cHe will run no risk and will return the same night,\u201d said Magistus,\nanswering both questions in a breath.\n\nThis visit occupied our thoughts continually, and we delighted to imagine\nwhat joy it would give our poor father. I was out of bed before daylight\nthat morning, impatient to start. I partook heartily of an extempore\nbreakfast which Ethopus provided me. That personage to my surprise seemed\nsad and abstracted. I could say nothing to him, however, for Magistus was\npresent. I kissed my sisters good-bye at the door of their room, for they\ntoo could not sleep for excitement. Magistus waved his adieu at the front\ndoor. I walked through the courtyard with Ethopus, who carried a covered\nbasket on his arm.\n\nWe were near the gate, when Ethopus coming close to me slipped something\ninto my hand. It was a long, thin, bright dagger. I concealed it\nimmediately in my bosom.\n\n\u201cEthopus thinks there will be danger,\u201d said I, to myself.\n\nI would perhaps have said something, but I observed the porter admitting a\nperson through the gate, whose entrance at that hour in the morning caused\nme the greatest surprise.\n\nIt was a woman; and at the age of sixteen a woman occupies a great deal of\nthe field of vision before the masculine eye. This woman was very\nyoung\u2014not more than fifteen, although perfectly mature. She was very\nbeautiful\u2014so beautiful that everybody must have turned to look after her.\nHer eyes were large, soft and hazel; her hair brown and wavy; her cheeks\nblended roses and pearls: her mouth small and curved like a bow; her voice\nand smile perfectly bewitching\u2014all that I took in at a glance: nor did it\nneed the splendid ear-rings and brilliant necklace and scarlet robe she\nwore, to impress it very deeply on my mind.\n\nShe bade me good-morning with the sweetest smile imaginable, and with the\naffable, self-possessed manner of a woman much older than herself.\nStartled and abashed, I could do nothing but bow profoundly and hurry into\nthe street where Ethopus had given the basket to the person who was to be\nmy guide.\n\nI made signs to Ethopus, by a kind of pantomime we had acquired, to keep a\nwatchful eye on my sisters. He replied by an affirmative motion of the\nhead and a deep sigh, which was evidently on my own account.\n\nThis woman was destined, under the leadings of Providence, to make a\ngreater and more lasting impression on my soul than all others. And this\nwas our first meeting: I a bashful boy; she a strange woman, too gaudily\ndressed, entering my father\u2019s house at a strange hour. So two ships might\npass each other on the Great Sea, merely exchanging signals of\ngood-morning\u2014ships destined long afterward to convoy each other beyond the\nPillar of Hercules into the infinite unknown!\n\nThis woman was Mary Magdalen.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   III.\n\n\n                         _NIGHT BY THE DEAD SEA._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWith my thoughts fluctuating between the extreme beauty of Mary Magdalen\nand the danger which Ethopus seemed to apprehend, I walked some distance\nwithout regarding my new companion.\n\nWhen I did so, I was surprised and puzzled at his appearance. He was a\nyoung man of singularly handsome features, the only drawback being a nose\nwhich was a little too aquiline. His black hair curled in short ringlets\nclose to his head, and his face was thoroughly bronzed by sun and tempest.\nHis dress was rather that of some foreigner attached to an Assyrian or\nEgyptian caravan, than the coarse and simple clothing of a Hebrew servant.\nAnd then there was something bold and free in his bearing, which precluded\nthe idea that he was a menial either in character or condition.\n\n\u201cAre you engaged in my uncle\u2019s service?\u201d said I.\n\nHe shifted the heavy basket from one arm to the other, and made no reply.\n\nI repeated my question in a louder tone; but he did not seem to hear me,\nlooking straight ahead at the road before him.\n\n\u201cThis handsome fellow is both deaf and dumb,\u201d said I to myself. \u201cMy uncle\nhas a curious passion for silent people.\u201d\n\nDebarred the pleasure of conversation, I relapsed into reverie. I\ndetermined to make a use of this visit which my uncle little anticipated.\nI resolved to approach my father boldly, contagion or no contagion, and\nhave an interview with him. I wanted to tell him of the neglected and\nunhappy condition of his children, of our increasing repugnance to\nMagistus, and of the indifference or treachery of Caiaphas. I wanted his\nadvice. He could surely direct me to friends in the city, whose assistance\nmight arrest our impending ruin.\n\nMade happier by that resolution, as if it had already accomplished\nsomething, I let my mind revert back to the woman I saw at the gate, and a\nnew cause of uneasiness arose as I reflected upon that accidental meeting.\nBoyish and inexperienced as I was, I discovered something in the dress and\nmanner of the early visitor, which whispered to me that she was not a\nsuitable companion for my sisters. She certainly was not a domestic. Who\ncould she be? What could she want at our house just after daybreak?\nPerhaps she came to see Magistus on business. It was not the hour or the\nplace for that. Perhaps she was one of the midnight revelers whom I heard\nsinging and dancing in the basement story of my uncle\u2019s secluded\nresidence. That idea startled me more than all. I determined to get back\nhome by rapid walking before nightfall, and explore this disquieting\nmystery.\n\nWe had passed over hill and dale through a highly-cultivated country, full\nof vineyards and gardens and orchards, full of sweet little villages and\nbeautiful rural villas. This did not last long, and we turned in a\nsouth-easterly direction. The villages disappeared; the houses became more\nsparse and humble; the trees became more stunted and bare; the rocks\nlarger and the road more difficult. At the point where the highway leads\ndown the steep hills toward Jericho and the plain of the Jordan, my guide\nturned suddenly due south into a rough, barren and wild country, where\nthere was no road at all.\n\nThe sounds of life faded behind us. Vegetation almost wholly disappeared.\nNo animals were to be seen but a few goats far away browsing among the\nrocks. The birds seemed to refuse to accompany us further. The silence of\nthe desert fell gradually upon us. This was the wilderness of Judea.\n\nWe were winding downward to the Salt Sea, that great watery waste, in\nwhose silent deeps Sodom and Gomorrah lie buried; on whose shores stand\nbleak and desolate mountains full of sulphur springs; the gloom without\nthe glory of nature; the home of wild beasts and lepers and robbers and\ndemons; mountains fearful in their nakedness and solitude; evil genii\nguarding in stern silence the eternal sleep of the lost cities of the\nplain.\n\nI grew uneasy and melancholy as we approached these famous and dangerous\nplaces. The taciturnity of my guide, together with an increasing shadow on\nhis expressive face, magnified my apprehensions almost into fears. I felt\nmy boyish weakness and inexperience by the side of this strong, rough,\nsilent man of the wilderness, who now seemed to my excited imagination to\nhave got into his native element, and to be a part of the lonely and\nsupernatural region into which we had entered.\n\nOur attention was suddenly drawn to a neighboring eminence by sounds of so\nstrange a character, that it was impossible to say whether they were\nanimal or human. Four lepers appeared in sight, almost naked, holding up\ntheir long, withered arms, and screeching out from their hoarse throats\nand swollen lips their hideous cry,\n\n\u201cUnclean! unclean!\u201d\n\nI trembled at this sad spectacle and gazed intently, expecting and afraid\nto recognize my poor father in the group. My guide suddenly laid his hand\nupon my shoulder, and we both stood still. He then set the basket upon the\nground, made signals to the lepers to approach, and drew me away from the\nspot. A horrible chorus of guttural thanks came up from the leprous\ncreatures, who awaited our departure before pouncing upon the acceptable\npresent.\n\n\u201cOh, sir!\u201d said I, resisting my guide, and forgetting that he was deaf and\ndumb, \u201cyou have given my father\u2019s food to those unhappy wretches! Where is\nmy father? Oh, take me to him!\u201d\n\nHe stopped and looked me full in the face.\n\n\u201cOh yes!\u201d I continued, in a supplicating tone; \u201cthat basket has food and\nwine for my poor father, the leper, and a bouquet and a letter from\nMartha, and a pair of sandals from little Mary\u2014\u201d\n\nOvercome with emotion I burst into tears.\n\nThe guide drew a deep sigh; and when I looked up into his face it was\nradiant with a sweet and benevolent expression. He had either heard me or\nhe comprehended intuitively the nature of my distress. He shook his head\nand made a deprecating gesture with his hand. He then drew me off\nstrongly, but so gently that I was partially reassured, and walked meekly\nat his side, overwhelmed with surprise and sorrow.\n\nAfter passing over several rough ridges we turned into a deep ravine. The\nguide made me go in front. The pathway down this narrow gorge, this cleft\nbetween two mountains, was rough and dangerous. There were deep holes or\npits upon one side, and frightfully overhanging rocks upon the other. It\nwas so dark and precipitous in some places that I could scarcely believe\nwe were not descending into the bowels of the earth. We suddenly emerged\nfrom this monstrous fissure on a little mound made by the soil washed down\nfrom above, and found ourselves on the shore of the Dead Sea.\n\nI had never seen such an expanse of water before, and was charmed with the\nsight. Away to the left was the plain of the Jordan and the sacred river\nof that name, invisible at a distance among its reeds and rushes. Opposite\narose the reddish-brown mountain chain which borders the sea on the west.\nFar down to the right stretched a range of high hills of a bluish gray\ncolor. In front, and widening away to the south, lay the mighty surface of\nthe sea, shining like a burnished mirror in the noon-day sun. A fine\nbreeze was blowing; but there was only a faint ripple on the water, for\nits heavy salt waves can scarcely be stirred by the wind\u2014like the soul of\na wicked man, which cannot be moved by the Spirit of God.\n\nI was recalled from that delicious reverie into which every one is\ntransported by a view of the sea; for my guide pointed to a clump of\nstunted trees or rather large bushes near the beach. Half hidden by them\nwas a tent of alternate white and red canvas, in front of which a large\nboat was drawn up on the sand. Two rough-looking fellows lay in the boat\nasleep. There was no human habitation anywhere about this lonely spot.\nThese people belonged on the other side of the sea. They were ready for\nflight in a moment. They were wild, roving, secretive, fugitive. They were\nengaged in some unlawful business. I had fallen into the hands of robbers.\n\nThese disquieting thoughts passed through my mind as we approached the\ntent. Hearing our footsteps on the sand, the chief came out of it. He was\ntall and sinewy, a man of unusual weight and size. He was clad in a\nrichly-embroidered crimson robe, with a splendid scimitar, jewel-hilted,\nat his side. A long beard, stained of a golden yellow by some vegetable\ndye, gave him a grotesque and never-to-be-forgotten appearance. All this\nbarbaric ornament did not prevent me from recognizing the strange, coarse\nman who held the long interview with Magistus two days before. Then he was\ndisguised; now his character was apparent.\n\nWe stood before him. My guide made a low obeisance and said in a clear\nvoice:\n\n\u201cBarabbas! I have obeyed your orders!\u201d\n\nMy astonishment on discovering that my robber-guide was neither deaf nor\ndumb, was turned into another channel when Barabbas exclaimed:\n\n\u201cWell done! Bind him tightly with the old Persian. If Beltrezzor\u2019s ransom\ndoes not arrive by sunrise, we will make way with them both together.\u201d\n\nMy uncle had betrayed me into the hands of the Ishmaelite to be murdered.\nThere could be no doubt that the atrocious assassin had taken every\nprecaution to prevent escape or failure. Resistance was impossible. There\nwere four men in sight, either one of whom could have overpowered me in a\nmoment. My heart sank in despair when my guide led me behind the tent, and\nbound me securely to a little tree, without evincing the least remorse or\ncare at his own part in this shameful and cowardly transaction.\n\nI now surveyed my fellow-prisoner, who was tied to another tree close to\nme. His gray hair and beard showed that he had passed considerably beyond\nthe meridian of life. He had a serene and rather handsome face, full of\nthought and benevolence. Young and inexperienced as I was, I perceived by\na kind of intuition that my companion in distress was a cultivated and\nsuperior man. He wore a rich Eastern robe and a bright-colored turban. He\nwas smoking a long pipe curiously carved and twisted. He surveyed me\nquietly and nodded kindly to me, evidently pitying my childish terror and\ndespair.\n\n\u201cWe shall be murdered to-morrow!\u201d I gasped.\n\n\u201cI learned a proverb in India,\u201d said the old man. \u201cBrahma writes the\ndestiny of every one on his skull. No man can read it\u201d\u2014and watching his\nsmoke fade into air, he slowly continued, \u201cand even the gods cannot avert\nit.\u201d\n\nI was astonished at his coolness; but his fatalism did not console me.\n\n\u201cTo die\u2014to die!\u2014to leave my poor sisters unprotected and to see them no\nmore\u2014Oh, it is horrible!\u201d\n\n\u201cNot to be,\u201d said the Persian, in a voice of singular depth and sweetness,\n\u201cnot to be is better than to be; and not to have been is better than all.\u201d\n\nIn spite of myself and my fears, the calm and almost spiritual halo which\nseemed to surround this strange old man, began to quiet my agitation and\nto divert my thoughts from my impending fate.\n\n\u201cAre you a philosopher?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cI think,\u201d he replied; and drawing a long whiff from his pipe, he\nillustrated his remark by lapsing into a profound reverie.\n\nI contemplated this serene philosopher a long time in silence, and made up\nmy mind that he must have a good many beautiful things to think about as\nhe sat there, bound and under sentence of death, smoking so placidly upon\nthe arid shore of that dreadful sea.\n\nWhen he indicated, by knocking the ashes from his pipe, that he had\nascended from the ocean of dreams into which he had dived, I asked him how\nhe had fallen into the power of these miscreants.\n\n\u201cSpeak evil of no one, my son! Leave wicked names to the wicked. These\ngentlemen live upon the road and in the wilderness. They pay special\nattention to travelers, to caravans, and to small and remote villages.\nThey cure some people of that chronic disease we call life, and they\npermit others to ransom themselves by large quantities of that evil thing\nwe call money. They have set me down in the latter class, and I am\nawaiting a remittance from a friend in Jerusalem.\u201d\n\n\u201cSuppose your friend is dead, or absent from the city, or cannot raise the\nsum required, or refuses to do it?\u201d\n\nHe pointed to the sea, shrugging his shoulders, and exclaimed:\n\n\u201cWhat is written, is written.\u201d\n\nWhen it was quite dark my guide of the morning brought us a little food.\nThe old Persian ate heartily, but I could barely taste it. The guide\nwhispered in my ear, \u201cBe silent and wakeful,\u201d and departed.\n\n\u201cNow sleep, my son,\u201d said my philosophic companion; \u201ctrust in God and\nsleep. Our angels and good genii befriend us most powerfully when asleep.\nWhen awake we scare them away by our villainous thoughts. Sleep.\u201d\n\nThe whispered words of the guide had inspired me with a vague hope, and I\npreferred trusting to his advice rather than to the invisible guardians of\nour sleep. I was therefore silent and wakeful. The moon went down long\nbefore midnight.\n\nThe hours passed away slowly, slowly, marked only by the coming up of the\nwhite stars from behind the eastern hills; while the long minutes were\ntold by the dead plash of the water against the beach.\n\nThere were feasting and drinking and singing in the tent of Barabbas. This\nwas kept up until long after midnight. Then there was silence, and the\nloud snoring as of some one in a drunken sleep.\n\nIt became very dark. The voices of man and nature were hushed. The hours\npassed, and all things seemed to sleep except the stars which continued to\nclimb the heavenly dome, and the sad, gray sea which pushed feebly against\nthe desert beach, and myself cruelly orphaned and betrayed, thinking\nalternately of home and death.\n\n\u201cDeath at sunrise!\u201d I exclaimed, thinking aloud to myself.\n\n\u201cThe sun has not risen,\u201d whispered the Persian.\n\nAnd Hope, the undying consoler within us, took courage at the words of the\nold man and at the slow-footed pace of the night; and thought it was long,\nlong till the morning, and that the angel of Life might still come, and\nrelieve from his awful watch the angel of Death.\n\nAn hour more of silence that could be felt, and of unutterable\nsuspense\u2014and a hand was laid softly upon my shoulder. The rope that bound\nme was disengaged, and my deliverer drew me stealthily along the beach,\nand away from the tent where Barabbas lay dreaming of plundered caravans\nand cruel uncles who enriched him for the murder of their nephews.\n\nThe guide did not speak until we stood on the mound at the mouth of the\ngreat ravine, where the Dead Sea first broke upon my sight.\n\n\u201cYou are free,\u201d he said. \u201cYou are a child, abused and betrayed. You shall\nnot be murdered. Robber as I am, there is something in my heart which is\ntouched by your sorrows. Go back to life, if not to happiness. God perhaps\nwill deliver you from Magistus, as He has through me delivered you from\nBarabbas.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome with me,\u201d said I; \u201cleave this wretched and dangerous life in the\nwilderness. Share our fate and fortune in Bethany.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not speak of it,\u201d he answered; \u201cit is impossible. Hasten on your\njourney, or all may be lost.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d said I, clinging to him, \u201cBarabbas will kill you when he finds I\nhave escaped.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! I have contrived against that. I am cunning and I shall succeed.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe poor old Persian will be murdered!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! He will be ransomed to-morrow. Away!\u201d he continued excitedly; \u201ca\nmoment\u2019s delay may be fatal. Away!\u201d\n\n\u201cStay!\u201d said I, eagerly; \u201ctell me the name of my benefactor, that I may\nrepeat it in my prayers.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have no name, no home. I am the Son of the Desert.\u201d\n\nHe hurried softly away toward the tent, and I crept up the ravine in the\ndarkness.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   IV.\n\n\n                           _IN THE WILDERNESS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nAfraid of the dark and fearful gorge, full of rocks and pitfalls and\nunseen dangers; afraid of the unpeopled desert which awaited me above;\nafraid of wild beasts, serpents, lepers and evil spirits; afraid of the\nsilence and solitude of night by the Salt Sea; afraid of all things behind\nme and all before; I ascended cautiously and painfully the narrow path, if\npath it might be called, praying to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob,\nfor protection.\n\nI, who had never been out of my father\u2019s house at that hour of the night\nin my life, thus found myself amid a complication of circumstances which\nmight have appalled the stoutest heart.\n\nI had ascended two-thirds of the way, when my keen ear caught upon the\nnight-wind the subdued but rough voices of several persons who were\ndescending the ravine. My heart stood still and I almost fainted with\naffright. Fortunately, I remembered that I had just passed, a little lower\ndown, a large side-fissure or chink in the great rock wall of the ravine.\nI went back with the utmost speed and caution, and got safely concealed in\nthe black crevice before the objects of my terror came along.\n\nThey were no doubt some of the party of Barabbas, who were returning with\nor without the ransom of the old Persian. They were talking of ransom with\noaths and laughter as they passed. I held my breath in suspense; nor did\nmy heart recover its natural beat until they had descended a good\ndistance, and their voices floated faintly upward like the mutterings of\nlost souls in some horrible abyss.\n\nI was now afraid to start again lest I should meet another detachment of\nthe robbers. I waited a long time, listening intently. It suddenly\noccurred to me that when the robbers reached the tent of Barabbas, my\nescape would be discovered, and the swiftest runners despatched to\novertake me. This thought brought the cold drops to my forehead; and I\nhurried breathless all the way up the ravine, actually thinking that I\nheard the footsteps of men behind me, and voices calling my name.\n\nEscaped from the robbers, I fell into the arms of the desert. I could have\nextricated myself from the new danger if the sun had been shining. But the\nday rose dark and cloudy, and I could not tell whether I was going east or\nwest, north or south. I failed to recognize any of the spots we had passed\nthe day before. I walked rapidly up and down the bare hills, over the\nrough gullies and through the sandy hollows. After some hours of this\nexhausting travel, both mind and body being on the stretch, I was shocked\non discovering that I had been moving in a circle, and was near the mouth\nof the ravine again.\n\nI would have stretched myself upon some rock in despair; but my dangerous\nproximity to Barabbas and his men, revived my fears and gave supernatural\nstrength to my body. I fled away as fast as I could over new hills and\ngullies and sandy bottoms. It must have been two or three hours after\nnoon, when I reached a hill overlooking a deep, narrow valley, the dry bed\nof some nameless brook, which, in the rainy season, poured along over the\nsands its little tribute to the sea. Thoroughly exhausted with hunger,\nthirst, fatigue, loss of sleep, fear and despair, I lay down upon the\nhillside. Lost in the wilderness, thinking of the still worse conditions\nof my father and sisters, my misery was too deep for tears. A strange\ntorpor crept over my senses, and I fell into that profound slumber in\nwhich the weary are strengthened and the sorrowful comforted.\n\nWhen I awoke, the setting sun, just freed from clouds, was shining in my\nface.\n\nHow life-giving, faith-giving, hope-giving is a sight of the sun, wrapping\nhis mantle of softened glory about him, and descending trustfully to sleep\nin the kingdom of night, assured that Aurora will open duly her palace of\npearl, and his golden chariot with its fiery steeds issue forth in the\nmorning!\n\nSo does the Soul sink only to rise; sleep only to wake; die only to live:\never changing in state, ever the same in substance.\n\nI was thus drawing new vigor from the rays of the sun, when a voice of\nheavenly sweetness broke upon my ear, a voice chanting this beautiful\nScripture:\n\n  \u201cAs the hart panteth after the water-brooks,\n  So panteth my soul after thee, O God!\n  My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God:\n  When shall I come and appear before God?\u201d\n\n\u201cAre there angels as well as demons in the desert?\u201d said I, to myself.\n\nA jutting brow of the hill concealed from me the source whence these\nsounds appeared to issue. I arose and advanced to explore the mystery.\nRounding the intervening slope, I saw a young man seated upon a stone at\nthe mouth of a large cavern. His quick eye detected me in a moment, and he\nadvanced to meet me. He wore a single garment wrought of the finest\ncamel\u2019s hair, which was secured about his waist by a leathern girdle.\nSimple toilet! But when you looked at his fine head with its long black\nhair curling about his bare neck, and his beautiful oval face soft as a\ngirl\u2019s, full of all saintly thoughts and heavenly emotions, you knew that\nyou were in the presence of one who was clad interiorly in fine linen and\npurple.\n\n\u201cGood sir,\u201d said I, \u201cbehold an unhappy youth, who has just escaped death\nby robbers, and is lost in this terrible wilderness!\u201d\n\n\u201cOne must have lived long in the desert to find his way out of it such a\ndark day as this. It will be clear to-morrow, and I will pilot you into\nthe great highway. Meantime you are welcome to my poor hospitalities\u2014a\ncave for roof, a bed of skins, water to drink, wild honey and locusts to\neat; that is all.\u201d\n\n\u201cI gladly accept your offer; and were your proffered gifts still more\nhumble, they would be sanctified by the light of brotherly love you throw\nupon them.\u201d\n\nI seated myself on the stone while he went into the cave and brought forth\nhis simple food and drink, of which I partook heartily.\n\n\u201cTo whom am I indebted for this kind reception?\u201d I inquired, as I finished\nmy meal.\n\n\u201cI am John,\u201d he answered, \u201cthe son of Zacharias; and I dwell in the desert\nuntil the time of my showing unto Israel.\u201d\n\nA deep human groan from the interior of the cavern now startled me, and I\nsprang from my seat.\n\n\u201cWhat is that?\u201d I exclaimed.\n\n\u201cMy poor old patient has awakened. I must go and examine him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe takes in the sick as well as the wandering,\u201d said I to myself. \u201cSurely\nthe angels must protect him in some peculiar manner.\u201d\n\nJohn came forward again with an anxious countenance. \u201cAlas!\u201d said he, \u201cthe\nold man has rapidly changed. He fell into a soft slumber an hour ago, but\nhe is now plainly dying. I knew he was very ill, for he has raved all day\nabout his children and some magicians who wish to destroy them.\u201d\n\nAt these words a fearful tremor seized me. I could not speak. I sprang\npast the young man, and in a moment was kneeling at the side of my father!\nI seized his withered hand and covered it with kisses.\n\n\u201cMy father! my father! Do you not know your son, your only son?\u201d\n\nThe young hermit looked on in tears.\n\nThe old man slowly opened his eyes and cast a bewildered look, first at\nme, and then at John.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014you are angels,\u201d he said, \u201cwho have come to welcome my spirit into\nparadise.\u201d\n\nHe breathed heavily. I sank down weeping. John came forward with a little\nbasin of water. \u201cThere is no time to be lost,\u201d said he in a low tone.\n\n\u201cDo you believe in God, and in Moses his lawgiver, and in the prophets his\nservants?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do! I do!\u201d said the old man, eagerly.\n\n\u201cDo you repent of your sins, and pray for the Holy Spirit to guide you?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do! and God be merciful to a miserable sinner!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I baptize you with water, the emblem of purification,\u2014and in the\nname of the Lord, the only God, into his spiritual Church and into the\nhope of immortal life.\u201d\n\nThus saying, he sprinkled some water on the old man\u2019s forehead. His own\nface shone with a meek and holy radiance. My father closed his eyes and\nseemed to sleep.\n\nSuddenly he started, frowning, as if some great pain had changed the\ncurrent of his thought.\n\n\u201cTell my son to beware of his uncle. He is a magician.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere is your son!\u201d I exclaimed, eagerly; \u201chere is your son! Oh, speak to\nme, my father!\u201d\n\nHe did not notice my grief; but, pointing slowly to John the Baptist, he\nsaid, solemnly:\n\n\u201cBehold the prophet of God!\u201d\n\nHe then looked fixedly upward; and as I followed his glance to the roof of\nthe cave, his spirit passed away beyond the blue dome, beyond the stars\nand the sun, beyond the entire realm of nature, into the paradise of Moses\nand the prophets.\n\nI spent the night in prayer and tears by my father\u2019s dead body.\nOccasionally the young prophet broke in upon the stillness of the air with\nhis silvery voice, chanting the sweet verses of Scripture. I was sorely\ntempted to rebel against the providence of God, which permitted such a\ngood man as my father to be so cruelly dealt with. The presence, however,\nof the young prophet, was in itself a sermon, a blessing, a help to\nresignation. One could not be skeptical or even critical in his luminous\natmosphere of peace and love. I reflected that there were many great\nmysteries which my youthful and inexperienced mind could not at present\ncomprehend, and returning faith assuaged the grief it could not remove.\n\nThe next day about noon the young prophet offered a prayer over the\ncorpse, and we consigned it to a humble grave dug by our own hands in a\nlarge cavern near by. I observed that there were four other graves in the\nsame spot.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said John, meekly, \u201cthis is my little cemetery. Here I bury my dead\nin ground consecrated to the Lord. This was a robber who was wounded in a\nfray and left by his comrades. He dragged his bleeding limbs into the\ndesert. I found him and bore him to my home. I preached to him the new\ngospel of repentance and faith, and he died in my arms weeping like a\nchild over the sins of his youth. He who occupies that grave was a madman,\nwho broke his chains, and drove every one from him with knives and stones\nuntil he met me in the wilderness. He followed me to my cave, and would\nsit contented at my feet hearing me sing or read or pray. Under that mound\nis a poor slave who fled, mutilated and frenzied, from a cruel master. I\nkissed the wounds I could not heal; and he died clasping my hands\nsmilingly to his lips. And that last one is the grave of another poor\nleper like your father, forsaken even by his wretched companions\u2014but not\nforsaken by the Lord, whose Word I obeyed when I tended him in his long\nillness.\n\n\u201cI call it consecrated ground,\u201d he continued; \u201cfor these poor people are\nthe children of God. The leper is cured of his leprosy; the slave is free;\nthe madman is sane; the robber is forgiven.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat induces you,\u201d said I, \u201cto lead this strange, lonely life, so full of\nself-sacrifice, so full of terrors and dangers?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Spirit of God!\u201d he said, solemnly.\n\n\u201cAre you not afraid of the silence, the solitude, the darkness of the\ndesert?\u201d\n\nHe replied in the words of Scripture:\n\n\u201cThe Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the\nstrength of my life: of whom shall I be afraid?\u201d\n\nI felt awed in the presence of this young man, who was not more than ten\nyears older than myself. I was better satisfied to leave my father\u2019s ashes\nin his keeping, than if I had built above them the most splendid monument\nof Pentelican marble or Corinthian brass.\n\nAfter a frugal meal we started for the public road. It was ten long miles\nto the nearest highway, and it was ten more from that to Bethany. We\ndiscoursed, as we walked along, about spiritual things; and although I did\nnot understand half he said, he spoke with such eloquence and sincerity\nthat he convinced me he had some great mission in the world. We parted a\nlittle before sunset with mutual embraces and blessings. I dropped some\ngrateful and admiring tears as I gazed after the heavenly-minded hermit,\npicking his way with his long staff through the rough places, until he\ndisappeared from sight over the brown, bare hill.\n\nIt was not until the comforting and sustaining power of his presence was\nwithdrawn, that I recognized how exhausted and helpless and lonely I was.\nFatigue, fear, excitement, sorrow, loss of sleep and inadequate\nnourishment, had considerably shattered my nerves; and now to appear\nsuddenly in the presence of an uncle who thought he had murdered me, was a\ndifficult and perhaps a dangerous task. I would gladly have turned in any\nother direction; but my sisters were in the power of the monster who had\nplotted my assassination. Nothing but a vague fear that those lovely women\nwere in some trouble or distress, gave strength to my tired limbs and\ncourage to my aching heart.\n\nNight came on, and I had to advance more slowly. The full moon was shining\nhalfway down the western sky, but a dark cloud had risen from the ashes of\nthe sunset, and was advancing upward. It was important that I should make\nall the haste I could, before the light of the moon was obscured by that\nascending blackness. To get out of the road might be to lose the whole\nnight.\n\nI moved so rapidly that I became exceedingly tired. If I sat down to rest,\na mysterious fear impelled me to rise and press forward to Bethany. I have\nfaith in those secret attractions, those silent monitors, those\ninexplicable warnings. A minute\u2019s repose of muscle, a minute\u2019s\nrecuperation of breath, and I started again with renewed energy.\n\nA wind came up behind the cloud and drove it furiously onward. It covered\nthe moon and all was dark. I groped my way. I stumbled over obstacles. I\nadvanced slowly. It was late, late in the night, when I entered the\nvillage of Bethany. No lights were visible; no sounds were heard. I\ntraversed the streets alone. I passed my uncle\u2019s residence, brimful of\nmaledictions against its wicked proprietor. Soon my father\u2019s house loomed\nup before me. I saw the long white wall in front of it, and the parapet of\nthe house-top darkening above.\n\nSuddenly a strong blast of wind stirred all the trees of the village. It\nsighed along the deserted streets and up into the sky. It lifted the lower\nedge of the cloud from the moon which shone out, low down, just above my\nfather\u2019s house, as it were with a sudden brilliancy.\n\nIt revealed to me two astonishing things.\n\nOne was a large, strange, gilded vehicle drawn by two powerful horses\nstanding before the gate.\n\nThe other was the figure of a woman on the house-top, between me and the\nmoon\u2014a woman with flowing robes and disheveled hair, raising her arms\nwildly to heaven, while a man was approaching her in the attitude of\nstriking.\n\nIt was my sister Martha!\n\nWith a cry of horror I sprang against the gate, which gave way before me.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                    V.\n\n\n                              _THE BANQUET._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI am too deeply impressed with the vanity of our worldly affairs in\ncomparison with the verities of the spiritual life, to employ my own time\nor engage a reader\u2019s attention with a biography, however pleasing or\nromantic, unless there was a subtle connecting link, which I expect to\nreveal, between the facts narrated and those eternal truths which\novershadow all others in importance.\n\nI, alone of all mankind, have lived consciously in both worlds long enough\nto discover their relations to each other. What my fellow-men have seen\nonly on the surface, I have examined interiorly. I have seen the secret\nsprings of human pride, ambition, passion and folly. I have seen the souls\nof men as they appear in the sight of angels. And my instructions in that\nworld were all based upon my experiences in this.\n\nIt is now necessary to drop for a while my personal narrative, and to go\nback and relate, from the evidence of others, what happened in Bethany\nduring my absence.\n\nMy sisters had been left with our atrocious uncle, like two lambs under\nthe guardianship of a wolf. One capable of assassinating his nephew, a\nmere youth, would not hesitate at any wickedness against his beautiful\nnieces. This man\u2019s character was so cruel and wicked, that some\nexplanation is needed of the singular maturity of diabolism to which he\nhad attained.\n\nMagistus had neither religion nor honor. Honor binds us in duty to our\nneighbor, as religion binds us both to God and the neighbor. It is a moon\nwhich shines brilliantly in the absence of the sun. The light of honor is\nalso but the reflected light of religion. When both shine together, honor\nis absorbed and swallowed up in the more effulgent blaze of religion. The\nsoul without religion or honor, is like the earth without sun or\nmoon\u2014cold, dark, desolate, hideous.\n\nSuch was the soul of Magistus.\n\nIrreligion, like drunkenness, is sometimes inherited. The father of\nMagistus was a scoffer and sensualist. Fatal incubus of moral deformity\ndescending from father to son! In this he was typical of the age. The\nhereditary pressure toward hell was so great, that a few more centuries of\ntransmission would have brought the world into perfect sympathy with the\nlower regions. The advent of the Lord arrested that for a while.\n\nWithout religion or honor man is very close to hell. The veriest barbarian\nhas some faint idea of natural religion, and some feeble impulse of\nnatural honor, which distinguish him from the beasts and unite him to his\nkind. These are barriers against the influx of infernal life. He is\nignorant of the devils within him, and the devils within him are ignorant\nof him. Wise and blessed provision! Were he brought into conscious rapport\nwith his own attendant evil spirits, he would soon be one with them. Their\nlife in hell and his life on earth would be animated by the same breath.\n\nThis had happened to Magistus.\n\nNot that he was a barbarian. He was an educated, cultivated man,\naccustomed to the luxuries and full of the suavities of civilized life.\nCivilization and religion are not synonymous. Hell itself has a stupendous\ncivilization. Magistus was a Pharisee by profession: a ritualist, and a\nstrict observer of feast-days and ordinances and ceremonies. That,\nhowever, was not the man, but only his outer garment\u2014his cloak. Supposed\nby the world to be virtuous and honest, this wealthy and reputable\nPharisee was spiritually a whited sepulchre, full of dead men\u2019s bones and\nall uncleanness.\n\nHe was a spiritualist, a sorcerer, a necromancer, a magician. He at first\nsought and became familiar with these people, with their studies and arts,\nfrom natural curiosity. It was very pleasant to call up his dead father\nand various dead friends, and converse with them. It was agreeable to know\nthat they were all happy, and advancing in various degrees toward the\ninfinite divine perfection. They showed him wonderful things. They\nperformed miracles in his sight greater than those which the magicians of\nEgypt performed before Pharaoh.\n\nThen they told him that the Jewish Scriptures were not divinely inspired,\nbut a medley of fables, passable poetry and childish philosophy. He had\nalready suspected this; and he congratulated the spirits on possessing a\ncritical genius so similar to his own. He finally acquired, from these\nsupernatural instructors, a grand system of philosophy, revealing the\ndivinity of nature and the laws of progress.\n\nHaving become convinced that there are great and subtile powers emanating\nfrom the spiritual world, unknown to most men, he determined to avail\nhimself of those powers for his own private ends. He became a secret pupil\nand disciple of magicians and wizards. He communicated with spirits and\npermitted them to take possession of him, soul and body, so that they\nspoke through his mouth and wrote through his hand and came at his call.\n\nHe learned all the tricks and spells of legerdemain, the arts and formulas\nand incantations of magic, and the rites and ceremonies of the black art\nin its broadest sense. He obtained means of seeing objects at any\ndistance, of producing hallucinations or optical illusions, of personating\nthe dead, of finding hidden treasures, of reading men\u2019s thoughts, of\nsowing enmity between friends, of discovering secrets, and a thousand\nother astounding and almost incredible things.\n\nThe soul is not destroyed in a moment: it is the work of years. The evil\nspirits and demons with whom he was thus brought into contact, slowly\npoisoned the fountain-head of character; extinguished his reverence, his\nmodesty, his respect for marriage; undermined his conscience; swept away\nall religious and even social and civil scruples; and fired and sustained\nall his evil propensities; so that, externally a faithful disciple of\nMoses, he was interiorly a devil, governed only by the love of self and\nthe world.\n\nThis formidable hypocrite, the most of whose wealth had been obtained by\nsecret frauds, and was not unstained with blood, had his dwelling in the\ncentre of an immense area surrounded by lofty walls and concealed by a\ndense grove of trees. He received no visitors but those who came to him at\nnight, and for no good purpose. He had the character of a recluse, devoted\nto sacrifice and prayer. He thus indulged his secret vices and carried on\nhis diabolical incantations unsuspected. The dark shadows of his princely\nmansion enveloped a degree of Assyrian luxury scarcely exceeded by the\nCaprean court of the emperor Tiberius.\n\nCaiaphas, the priest, was his best friend, who shared his private\npleasures and maintained by constant applause his public reputation for\nsanctity and honor.\n\nThe influence of evil spirits who possess us is at first gentle and\nsubtile, coinciding with our own inclination. Thinking to lead, we are\nled. When a man is chained so that he can no longer resist, they urge him\nheadlong to a crisis. They fire his evil passions; they blind his\nperverted intellect; they inflate his pride and self-conceit; they make\nhim scornful and regardless of others, impatient of all barriers to his\nself-gratification, and assure him of boundless immunity and protection.\nIn this state of horrible fantasy and inflamed passion, he is ready to\ntrample upon all laws human and divine.\n\nTo this fearful point in his spiritual life had Magistus arrived.\n\nWhen my father was driven into the wilderness, Caiaphas and my uncle\nplotted together how to get speedy and sole possession of his great\nwealth. To get rid of or destroy his children was the first, and, indeed,\nthe only thing necessary. But they resolved to allow some months to\nelapse\u2014to let our misfortunes die out from the public memory, and even\nourselves be quite forgotten. Hence the seclusion, the solitude, the\nsystematic neglect to which we were subjected.\n\nThe plan was finally matured. The boy was to be decoyed into the\nwilderness and murdered by Barabbas. It was to be given out that he was a\nwild, incorrigible lad, who had run away from home and joined a band of\nrobbers. After a few months a letter was to be received from Barabbas,\nwhose fame as an outlaw was widespread, giving the particulars of his\ndeath in an attack of the party upon some caravan. This was to settle the\nmatter for ever in the public mind.\n\nIt was more difficult to dispose of my sisters than of myself. A hundred\nschemes were suggested by the inventive villains, but all rejected or\nsuspended. It was finally agreed to draw them out and test their\ncharacters, to make experiments upon them, to see what could be done with\nthem. It was a delicate task; but Magistus had boldness and cruelty for\nanything, and Caiaphas was to back him incessantly with his private\ncounsel and his public support. He had already begun his insidious work,\nby lamenting to sundry influential persons, with sanctimonious regrets,\nthat the daughters of his old and dear friend exhibited so early a\nsingular perverseness of character and disregard of their social and\nreligious obligations. The result, he added, of that laxity of discipline\nand passion for individual liberty, which characterized the unhappy leper.\n\nThe first and best instrument of evil is always a woman. Mary Magdalen,\nleft an orphan without relatives at a very early age, had fallen into the\nhands of a strolling showman, who taught her to sing and dance,\naccompanying herself on the timbrel. Her extraordinary beauty attracted\nattention in the streets of Jerusalem, and she soon passed into the\npossession of one of those connoisseurs who study the anatomy as well as\nthe philosophy of art. She quickly disappeared from sight; and it was\nrumored that she had been sent to Ashkelon to serve in the gorgeous temple\nof Ashtoreth, the Venus of Assyria. She had gone one dark night no further\nthan Bethany, and had buried her talents and her shame in the princely\nmansion of Magistus.\n\nOn the morning of my departure this serpent was introduced into the\ndove-cote. Magistus represented her as a distant relative whom he had\ninvited to spend several weeks with his nieces, hoping that her gayety of\nspirits would lighten the constant gloom of his little charges. The\nchildren, dazzled by her great beauty and won by her free and affectionate\nmanner, were delighted with their new companion. She entertained them with\ncurious stories of what she had seen and heard, refraining from any\nallusion which might reveal her true life and character.\n\nBut the plot of the two arch-demons did not work as they had calculated.\nIndeed, it worked in a way quite opposite to their expectations. They had\ncounted on the corrupting influence of a bold, fascinating woman on the\ngentle and unsophisticated thoughts and feelings of innocent girls. They\nhad not counted, cunning and sagacious as they were, on the possible\ninfluence of the girls upon Mary Magdalen.\n\nThat influence was astonishing. When she felt the pure and innocent sphere\nwhich surrounded the lovely sisters, a change came over the subtle\nemissary of Magistus. She forgot the instructions of her masters. The\nmemories of her old life seemed to die out, and the unseen angels of her\nbetter nature to wake into strange activity. Young herself, more sinned\nagainst than sinning, her pity was awakened for these young creatures\nagainst whom such wicked ones were conspiring.\n\nShe made them tell her all about their poor father, and wept with them at\nthe story. She took them into the garden and played over the green knolls,\nand ran in the graveled walks, and gathered flowers, and sang little\nchildish songs, as if she were a child again. She asked a thousand\nquestions about our mother and little Samuel, and about the babyish\nsayings and doings of my little sisters and myself. She frequently\nexclaimed \u201cOh, I am so happy! This is the happiest day of my life! Oh that\nI could live for ever so!\u201d\n\nPausing before the tomb of my mother, and looking at a little vase of\nfresh flowers which stood before it, she suddenly fell upon her knees,\nexclaiming wildly:\n\n\u201cO God! if I could have offered flowers, also, at the tomb of a mother, it\nmight have been different!\u201d\n\nShe burst into a flood of tears; and the sisters endeavored to console\nher\u2014not knowing the true nature of her wound\u2014by kissing her cheeks and\nmingling their tears with hers.\n\nThey were interrupted in these sweet offices of mutual sympathy, by the\nvoice of a servant asking Mary Magdalen if she had forgotten that she had\nto prepare herself and her companions for the grand supper at the house of\nMagistus.\n\nShe arose from the ground, and slowly recovering her composure, led the\nastonished children through the gate in the garden wall toward the house\nof our uncle. On the way she told them that Magistus had prepared a\nhandsome entertainment for herself and them, and as a charming surprise to\ntheir brother, who was expected to return with good news from the father\njust about the hour of the feast. They need not be frightened, for\nCaiaphas alone was to be present.\n\nWe had never entered any portion of our uncle\u2019s great mansion except the\nsmall wing which contained the reception-room and the long passage which\nled to the private chamber of our invalid aunt. The three women now passed\nup a flight of marble steps into a portico leading into a vast hall,\nornamented with statues and with vases filled with flowers. Hurrying\nthrough this hall, Mary lead them up another flight of stairs which had a\ngilded balustrade, into two exquisite bed-chambers which opened into each\nother.\n\nThe bedsteads were of carved ivory, exceedingly beautiful; the canopies,\nof blue silk fringed with gold; the coverlets, of fine linen and purple,\ncuriously embroidered. The divans, the couches, the chairs, the tables,\nwere all gems of graceful art. The floor was of polished cedar, with\ngilded moulding around the wall. The ceiling was a splendid stucco-work on\nwhich scenes were painted in brilliant colors; in one room, Act\u00e6on peeping\nfrom behind the trees at Diana and her nymphs in their crystal bath; and\nin the other, Venus beating her breast and tearing her hair at sight of\nthe blood-stained thigh of Adonis.\n\nThe whole atmosphere was freighted with the most delicious and\nexhilarating perfumes. There were chests of drawers full of the richest\nfemale clothing, the fruit of the rarest material and the finest\nneedlework. There were caskets lying open and revealing ear-rings and\nnecklaces and bracelets of the most dazzling beauty. The sisters were\noverwhelmed with wonder and delight. They had never seen such things\nbefore; for our father, rich as he was, was plain, frugal and\nunostentatious in his tastes and habits.\n\n\u201cThese are all ours,\u201d said Mary Magdalen, \u201cthe gifts of our good uncle who\ndelights to make us happy. Come, let us dress for the supper.\u201d\n\nDomestics came at her call, and the ladies were attired in robes of the\ngreatest magnificence. Their hair was dressed in the most graceful manner,\nsparkling with alternate flowers and gems. \u201cAll this is for Lazarus,\u201d said\nthe sisters to each other, as they followed Mary Magdalen, blushing at\nthemselves, down into the supper-room in a deep basement almost under\nground.\n\nThe supper-room was as gorgeously furnished as the bed-chambers. The table\nwas placed on a raised platform at one end of the room, leaving a great\nspace for which our bewildered visitors could not imagine the use. The\nceiling had a splendid painting of Aurora driving the chariot of the sun,\nattended by the Muses and the flying Hours. The walls were adorned with\nsolid upright mirrors of polished brass. In every niche and corner was\nsome exquisite marble, some nude figure from the Grecian mythology; the\nmost beautiful of which was Leda caressing the swan, concealing within its\nwhite form the passionate soul of Jove.\n\nCaiaphas and Magistus reclined upon silken couches at a table which was\nloaded with savory viands and vessels of gold and silver containing\ndelicious wines, and ornamented with brilliant vases of fruits and\nflowers. The scene was lighted by hundreds of wax candles of as many\ncolors as the rainbow.\n\nAs soon as the women were handed to their places at the table, Martha\nexclaimed:\n\n\u201cAnd why could not poor aunt Ulema be brought down to enjoy this charming\nfeast?\u201d\n\nAnd Mary added:\n\n\u201cAnd Lazarus, where is he?\u201d\n\nUlema and Lazarus were the last persons in the world whom the host would\nhave invited to his banquet. He paid no attention to Martha\u2019s question. To\nMary\u2019s he replied by drawing a parchment from his bosom.\n\n\u201cListen!\u201d said he; \u201ca letter from Lazarus!\u201d\n\nThe faces of the young girls grew anxious.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cDEAR UNCLE:\n\n\u201cExcuse me for spending the night with my father. He is better, happy and\nwell provided. But I have many things to say to him, and my visit has\ngiven him so much pleasure. I know I must submit on my return to the law\nof purification, which will separate me many days from my sweet sisters.\nTake them to your own house and make them happy. I will return to-morrow.\n\n                                                      \u201cYour loving nephew,\n                                                                \u201cLAZARUS.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\nMagistus looked up: the sisters were weeping.\n\n\u201cI was half angry at first,\u201d he said, \u201cat this strange disobedience. On\nreflection, I am satisfied. It confers immense happiness on both father\nand son; and their consultations may be of great service to you all. And,\nbesides, it gives me such a good opportunity to become better acquainted\nwith my charming nieces.\u201d\n\nHe passed the manuscript to my sisters, who inspected it closely. It was\nmy handwriting without doubt. The reader need not be told that it was a\nbase forgery; for at that very moment my poor father was ill in the cave\nof John the Baptist, and I was bound in expectation of death on the shore\nof the Salt Sea.\n\nMy sisters appeared to resume their composure and the feast proceeded,\nalthough they partook very lightly of its delicacies. Musicians came in,\nand the harp, the timbrel, the flute, the cymbals, the drum, and the\nsilver bugle enlivened the entertainment. Caiaphas and Magistus grew warm\nand witty and convivial over their wine, which they pressed in vain upon\nthe timid girls. Even Mary Magdalen merely sipped it in deference to both\nparties.\n\nWhat a delicate thermometer is the heart of a young girl! Without\nthinking, how innocent! Without reasoning, how wise! A thoughtful shadow\ncrept over Martha\u2019s face. Mary sank into a deep reverie, from which the\nplayful sallies of the rest could not arouse her. These young girls were\nthinking, and their thoughts ran in the same channel.\n\nThe sudden change of Magistus from indifference to suavity; this gorgeous\nand secluded feast; Lazarus and his father away off in the wilderness;\ntheir poor aunt shut up in her sick chamber; this strange woman who wept\nso bitterly in the garden: these pagan pictures and statues so revolting\nto their chaste religious instincts: the lights; the music; the noisy\nlaughter of these usually sedate men; all these things overwhelmed them\nwith sudden apprehensions and vague terror. Each divined the feelings of\nthe other by some secret sympathy; and bursting into tears at the same\nmoment, they both rose from their seats.\n\n\u201cStay!\u201d exclaimed Magistus, nourishing his wine-cup and maddened by its\ncontents\u2014\u201cStay! you lose the cream and essence of the feast. I will show\nyou now how the dancing-girls of Babylon intoxicate the king of Assyria.\u201d\n\nAt these words they fled from the room.\n\n\u201cFollow them,\u201d said Caiaphas to Mary Magdalen, \u201cand quiet their\napprehensions.\u201d\n\n\u201cPut your babies to bed,\u201d roared Magistus, \u201cand come back yourself.\u201d\n\nI will not describe the new parties who were introduced to the feast, nor\nhow it degenerated into a revel, and the revel into an orgy. Mary Magdalen\ndid not return to the supper-room; and long after midnight the drunken\nmaster of the house was borne off to a sleep from which he ought never to\nhave awakened, and to dreams of conquests which he never achieved.\n\nThe shadow of other spheres more powerful than his own, was already\napproaching to thwart his plans and change his destiny!\n\nAn hour after all was quiet, a strange sound was made at the back gate in\nthe wall nearest the lodging-rooms of the domestics of the establishment.\nIt was a double sound; the first part of it being a loud and peculiar\nwhistle, the last part a powerful and startling hiss or rattle. The first\nsound seemed to summon some one to appear; the second, to threaten him if\nhe did not obey. The first was a call; the second a menace.\n\nThere was one person on the premises, and only one, who knew the full\nmeaning of that strange summons. He trembled on his couch when he heard\nit. Great drops of sweat came out on his forehead as he listened. He\nstrove to rise as if to obey it, but fell back as if paralyzed with fear.\nThe call was twice repeated with a weird ferocity in its tone; and the\nblack eunuch, Ethopus, staggered from his chamber and groped his way into\nthe open air and to the gate. He opened it softly with a private key, and\nstepped into the street. Do not men, like moths, fly sometimes stupidly\ninto the candle of danger?\n\nA remarkable vehicle, drawn by two great black horses and driven by a\nhideous black servant, stood in the street. It was showily gilded, and had\nseveral little doors and windows in it. It resembled the chariots on which\nmountebanks and jugglers perambulated the country, but was of larger size\nand more tastefully constructed.\n\nEthopus paid no attention to this equipage. Right before him stood an\nobject capable of inspiring him with the deepest horror. It was a tall\nfigure with a huge yellow serpent coiled about his neck and body, and a\nleopard standing quietly at his side. The leopard growled and the serpent\nhissed as the black man approached their master.\n\n\u201cBe quiet, Moloch!\u201d he said to the leopard. \u201cHush, Beelzebub,\u201d he\nwhispered to the snake. \u201cThis is a friend and fellow-servant.\u201d\n\nThe poor black prostrated himself in the dust before this mysterious\nnight-visitor and his bestial attendants. He signified his total\nsubmission by raising the man\u2019s foot and placing it on his head as he\ngroveled on the ground. When he released it, he kissed it with the most\nabject servility. His abasement was extreme.\n\n\u201cThat is right, Ethopus!\u201d said his master, \u201cthat is right. I rejoice to\nfind you in such a becoming frame of mind. Conduct me promptly to the\nsecret chamber of magic. Then return to my servant and give him suitable\naccommodations. Inform Magistus of my arrival early in the morning. I have\ncome on a grand errand to this village of Bethany.\u201d\n\nEthopus obeyed these orders without noise. All was at length silent.\nPerhaps all slept: the drunken proprietor, the wicked priest, the\nremorseful Magdalen, the frightened eunuch, the strange guest, and Mary\nand Martha locked in each other\u2019s arms, their beautiful faces bathed in\ntears, and their sweet souls dreaming that their angel-mother was watching\nthem from heaven.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   VI.\n\n\n                         _THE CHAMBER OF MAGIC._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nThere are few sights more touching than that of a man struck speechless in\nthe course of disease, yet retaining his mental faculties. Death perhaps\napproaches; weighty business presses on his mind; solemn secrets demand\nrevelation; confessions of soul struggle for utterance. He makes\ninarticulate sounds, incomprehensible gestures. He writhes; he moans with\nthe burden of thoughts he cannot express. His eyes speak and plead with a\nmute eloquence. His ideas play upon his countenance like lambent\nlightning, but die away, voiceless, indefinite, unrevealed.\n\nSuch was the state of Ethopus, the dumb eunuch, the day after the\ntreacherous banquet. There was a great solitude about the house; for\nMagistus, Caiaphas, and Simon Magus the magician, made an early and\nprolonged visit to Jerusalem. Mary Magdalen took the sisters over the\nbeautiful and extensive grounds, and paid another visit to the tomb of our\nmother, carrying some exquisite flowers in her own hand as a little\noffering to the maternal shade. Ethopus flitted about here and there in a\nstate of unaccountable excitement. He followed the sisters all day at a\nrespectful distance; and when his duties called him off imperatively, he\nwent precipitately about everything until he could assure himself again\nthat they were free and out of danger.\n\n\u201cEthopus has something extraordinary on his mind,\u201d said Martha, to\nherself; but she did not communicate her observation to her timorous and\nsensitive sister.\n\nThe case was evidently this: Ethopus had discovered the plot of Magistus\nagainst us all, and he felt certain that the arrival of the magician boded\nno good. He was struggling between his disinterested affection for us and\nhis intense fear of his wicked masters. He felt his own weakness,\nincreased by his inability to speak; and he was laboring to devise some\nplan by which the sisters could be brought to share his knowledge, and to\nconcert measures of escape from some impending catastrophe.\n\nHe seemed to divine that Martha was more thoughtful, courageous and\ntrustworthy than her sister. It was late in the afternoon when he made her\na signal, seen by herself alone, to follow him. She understood his\nmeaning, and contrived to withdraw without exciting the suspicion of her\ncompanions. Ethopus conducted her to the chamber of Ulema. Scarcely giving\nher time to exchange kisses with her aunt, he pushed her into a little\nrecess in the wall which was concealed by a hanging curtain. Between the\nfolds of this, Martha could peep cautiously into the room. In a few\nmoments Magistus entered.\n\nHe seemed hurried and flustered, and had a dark frown upon his brow.\n\n\u201cNo message from Barabbas to-day. Something has gone wrong. Put this woman\nto sleep immediately.\u201d\n\nEthopus adjusted a large mirror of polished metal on a table. Ulema arose\nfrom her couch without speaking a word, and seated herself in a chair\nabout four feet in front of the mirror and gazed steadfastly into it.\nMagistus stood a little one side, and made rapid passes with his hands and\narms from her head to her feet, nearly touching her body. His black eyes\nwere fixed fiercely upon her face, and his heavy breathing could be heard\nby Martha at every pass he made.\n\nThere was silence for several minutes, during which Ulema gazed\nsteadfastly into the mirror. Martha could not help doing the same; and she\ngazed at the mirror until a strange, tingling, bewildered sensation began\nto creep over her frame, and she averted her eyes to escape its magical\nfascination.\n\nThe victim of this singular experiment now became rigid, and made a\nconvulsive sound as if in a severe spasm. Martha was terribly frightened;\nbut her aunt suddenly became relaxed with a profound sigh. Magistus took a\nlong needle and passed it through the skin of her hand. She did not\nflinch. He then put something which seemed to be a lock of hair into her\npalm, and closed the fingers tightly upon it.\n\n\u201cFollow this person,\u201d said he, \u201cwherever he is, and tell me what you see.\u201d\n\nThe woman began, after a long pause:\n\n\u201cI am in a great wilderness of bare hills full of rocks and sand. The\nsense of solitude is terrible. It is cloudy but windy\u2014and the sun will\nsoon shine in the west.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the youth?\u2014the youth?\u201d cried Magistus, impatiently.\n\n\u201cWait a moment. The youth? I must find him. Bless me! how he has wandered!\nhow many circles! Ah! there he is! I see him stretched at full length upon\nthe ground.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is good!\u201d said Magistus eagerly; \u201cthat is good. He lies dead upon\nthe ground. Go on.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is not dead,\u201d said the oracle slowly; \u201chis heart still beats: he\nsleeps.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot dead?\u201d screeched the old man, \u201cwhat say you, not dead? Is he not\nwounded? Is he not stabbed? Is he not bleeding?\u201d he continued in the\nhighest excitement.\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d said the woman calmly; \u201che is not dead, he sleeps.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you see no gashes upon his body?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I see only a bright new dagger.\u201d\n\n\u201cFuries!\u201d exclaimed Magistus; \u201che has escaped me. I have been deceived.\u201d\n\nTurning suddenly upon the woman, he seized her by the throat:\n\n\u201cDo you tell me the truth?\u201d\n\n\u201cI tell you what I see. I fabricate nothing. I am now attracted around the\nhill. Ah! I see a young man with the face of an angel coming forth from a\ncave. He sings. Oh how sweetly he sings!\u201d\n\n\u201cAngels and devils!\u201d roared Magistus; \u201cyou have seen or reported falsely.\u201d\n\nWith that he seemed overwhelmed by a paroxysm of rage, and began beating\nthe poor woman violently about the head and arms with a black rod he took\nfrom the table. She made no resistance, and did not seem to feel the\nblows. Ethopus raised his hands deprecatingly, and Martha was about to cry\nout from her place of concealment, when a low, fierce growl, from\nunderneath the floor apparently, startled all of them but Ulema, who heard\nit not.\n\nSimon Magus was feeding his leopard.\n\n\u201cThe Master has returned,\u201d said my uncle, \u201cI will consult him immediately.\nHe may deliver me from this difficulty.\u201d\n\nHe left the room. Ethopus made rapid passes from her knees upward, and\nUlema awoke. She rubbed her hands and eyes, looked wonderingly around her\nand exclaimed:\n\n\u201cI have had a long, painful sleep, and I must have seen sad things. Did I\ngive him satisfaction?\u201d\n\nEthopus shook his head sadly.\n\n\u201cAlas!\u201d said she, with a distressed and puzzled air, \u201cwhen will this cruel\nimprisonment cease, and this strange life of visions which I never\nremember?\u201d\n\nMartha now came forward and threw herself weeping upon the neck of her\naunt. For a long time these sorrowful women exchanged those kisses and\ntears which are consolations. They then unburdened their hearts to each\nother. By questioning Ethopus and interpreting his pantomimic answers as\nwell as they could, they learned that some secret dangers surrounded them,\nand that Ethopus wished Martha to spend the night in the chamber of her\naunt. Martha thought it best to rejoin Mary immediately, and explain to\nher that Ulema was quite indisposed, and get her to sleep with Mary\nMagdalen, and permit the older sister to comfort and nurse the invalid.\nAll of which was easily accomplished.\n\nUlema had been confined for years in that little room by her husband as\nthe subject and victim of his magical art. She was a clairvoyant of\nextraordinary power; and when put asleep by the shining mirror and the\nwaving hands, she would follow any clue given her, and the greatest\nphysical obstacles seemed only penetrable shadows in the path of her\nmysterious vision.\n\nShe was thus employed by her husband to advance the schemes of his\nunscrupulous spirit. She was made to read the thoughts of others, so that\nMagistus became possessed of any man\u2019s or any woman\u2019s secret life whenever\nhe chose. He obtained information in this manner which enabled him to make\nlucrative transactions in business, to plot in the dark against whomsoever\nhe pleased, to destroy the peace of families, and to acquire a reputation\nfor superior and almost miraculous wisdom.\n\nShe had long ceased to be anything but a mere tool in her husband\u2019s hands.\nShe was locked up and taken care of as any other valuable instrument would\nhave been. She was visited and inspected only when her services were\nrequired. Love, sympathy, interchange of sentiments, all this had ceased.\nShe received nothing from him but contempt and threats. She lived within\nhearing of his midnight revels. She bore the ravages of these things in\nher pale and tearful face, with its sad and terrified expression.\n\nEthopus came softly into the room about midnight, and after many gestures\nexpressive of the supreme necessity of caution and silence, he conducted\nthe two women on tip-toe through a narrow passage. Near the end of this he\npaused, and pressing on a secret spring, he discovered a sliding panel in\nthe wall. This opened and admitted them into a large, empty room. This\nroom was only for the ventilation of a more interior and secluded\napartment. A series of movable slats effected the communication between\nthe two chambers. The light streaming through the shutters showed that the\ninner room was occupied. Looking down through the apertures, with very\nlittle danger of being discovered, the women beheld, six or eight feet\nbefore them, the floor of the secret chamber of magic.\n\nEthopus left them as stealthily as a cat, after placing them in the best\nposition to see and hear what was going on in the den of sorcery. He\npressed Martha\u2019s hand to his heart before he departed. Perhaps he wished\nto show how deeply he felt for them; perhaps also to intimate how deeply\nhe suffered. Perhaps he asked for help as well as sympathy. The poor, dumb\nAfrican would not only save them, if possible, from their subtle enemies,\nbut would enlist the knowledge and power of a superior race, to effect his\nown deliverance from the crushing thraldom they had imposed upon him.\n\nA thousand or two thousand years hence, magic as a science and an art will\nhave ceased to exist. Generations unborn will enjoy the leafage and fruit\nof that sacred tree of Christianity, whose little seed we have seen\nplanted in the dark ground. The hells now opened will be closed; the\nsuperstitions now triumphant will be a myth; the languages now living will\nbe dead; the arts now flourishing will have perished; the civilization now\ndominant will be a historic shadow. Those who find this manuscript and\ngive it to the world, will not be able to comprehend the meaning, or to\nbelieve the truth, of the strange things I am going to relate\u2014and yet they\nare true.\n\nMagic, which pervades to a greater or less extent all nations, and in some\nshape influences all individuals, had its origin in the corruption and\nperversion of the sacred truths of religion. It is the life of all false\nsystems, the voice of their oracles, the inspiration of their prophets,\nthe power of their mighty men. It was the medium by which evil spirits\ntook possession of their victims. It is the falsity which antagonizes\ntruth; the darkness opposite to light; the hell arrayed against heaven. To\nbe under magical influence, is to be assaulted, betrayed, possessed,\ngoverned, by demons.\n\nSimon Magus, who believed himself attended by Moloch and Beelzebub, two\nprinces of hell, under the respective forms of a leopard and a serpent,\nwas the most remarkable sorcerer in the time of Christ. He was a Samaritan\nby birth, but had spent his youth in Egypt, where he became addicted to\nthe black art, and thoroughly conversant with all its mysteries. He was\nsupposed by most men to be an Egyptian, and he took no pains to correct\nthe mistake.\n\nHe was a man of unquestionable genius and boundless ambition. He was of\nmajestic presence, bending weaker spirits easily to his will. He was brave\nto desperation, and eloquent as if he had been fed in his youth by the\nbees of Attica. He was the secret chief and leader of thousands of persons\naddicted to magic in different countries. His word was regarded as law;\nhis power as irresistible; his wisdom as inscrutable.\n\nMagicians generally resorted to remote caves and deserted ruins for their\nrites and incantations. Many of the most splendid temples, however, of the\npagan religions, had private chambers devoted to their use. So also did\nthe palaces of many kings, and the princely mansions of wealthy and\npowerful men. The magicians of Jerusalem and its neighborhood had a secret\ncouncil-room in the quiet house of Magistus, in which they held their\ninfernal conclave at every visit of the Master.\n\nThe two women peeped cautiously into this chamber of mystery. The floor\nand the ceiling were both covered with black cloth, the latter having a\ngreat many stars flaming upon it in imitation of night. Through them a\nvast comet trailed its fiery form. The walls were painted with figures of\nthe most disgusting objects which creep on the earth, or fly in the air,\nor swim in the sea. Some of these figures had the heads of men and women:\nothers had the heads of monsters attached to naked bodies in the human\nshape.\n\nOn a raised platform of black marble, and in a great arm-chair covered\nwith crimson silk, sat Simon Magus, wearing a white robe of dazzling\nlustre, a leopard skin loosely thrown over his shoulders, and a gilt crown\nsurmounted by an eagle with outspread wings. He wore also a massive gold\nchain around his neck, from which was suspended a little sapphire image,\nwhich was supposed to guide the Egyptian priest to the truth, as the\nbreast-plate of precious stones did the Jew.\n\nThe short black hair of Simon Magus curled close to his head, and he had\nno beard after the fashion of his adopted country. His forehead was white\nas pearl and both wide and lofty. His eyes were large and brilliant. His\nwhole face was illumined by the grand fires of intellect and passion. His\nexpression was too proud to be pleasing, too fierce to be beautiful. He\nwas a man to strengthen the heart of his friends, and to make his enemies\ntremble.\n\nA large black table was before him, brilliantly painted with the signs of\nthe zodiac. In the centre of it stood an image or idol made of black stone\nor ebony, having the head of a man, the breast and fore-feet of a lion,\nand the hind quarters of a goat. The serpent was coiled on the platform at\nhis right hand; the leopard crouched at his left. A splendid globe of\ncrystal hung from the ceiling constituting a lamp, burning perfumed oil\nand shedding a rose-colored light over the scene.\n\nIn this mystic and formidable presence stood twelve or fifteen men with\nbowed heads, down-hanging hands, and attitudes of the deepest humility.\nThe women recognized only the faces of Magistus and Caiaphas. The former\nstood nearest to the table. Simon was addressing them in terms of\nreproachful eloquence:\n\n\u201cYou have made no progress in our sublime mysteries during the past year.\nYou have acquired no new powers over the spiritual world. You have not\neven given me information of the least importance. Alas! you are devoid of\ngenuine ambition, without which whoever deals with spirits becomes a slave\nand not a master.\u201d\n\nHis voice became more sonorous and his eye more scornful as he warmed with\nhis subject:\n\n\u201cYour tastes, your character, your life, are low and vulgar and sensual.\nYou employ the powers of magic for paltry and contemptible ends. To obtain\nreputation for cunning and foresight; to get good bargains out of your\nneighbors; to cheat some widow out of her property; to find stolen or\nburied treasure and appropriate it to yourselves; to pry into the secrets\nof men\u2019s bed-rooms and store-rooms and kitchens; to seduce silly maidens;\nto create trouble between husbands and wives; to inflict all kinds of\npetty and scurvy revenges upon your enemies,\u2014that is all you do with our\nvenerable and awful art. The grander destiny which awaits us all by the\ndevelopment and centralization of our powers, your vulgar passions do not\npermit you to see or to appreciate.\n\n\u201cMy example has been almost in vain. My spirit of self-sacrifice in\nachieving my lofty ends, is a mystery to your sluggish and ignoble souls.\nI have endured hunger and thirst and wakefulness and nakedness and heat\nand cold and solitude and plagues and wounds for mastery in the great path\nI have chosen. I have traversed the world from the frozen seas to the\nchasms of torrid heat. I have contended with wild beasts and with their\nguardians, the great spirits, by land and water. I have conquered the\nserpent and the leopard. The vulture lights on my shoulder like a sparrow;\nthe lion crouches at my feet like a dog. Arch-demons come at my bidding,\nand hundreds of lesser spirits swarm at the signal of my curse.\u201d\n\nHe became violently excited; his eyeballs glared around in frenzy, and he\ncontinued in a fierce whisper:\n\n\u201cIt would freeze your cowardly souls only to hear the spells, the\nincantations, the blasphemies I employed; the watchings, the tortures, the\ncombats, I endured, before I brought Moloch and Beelzebub into subjection\nto my will. See there, how I have burned their names into my flesh with\npencils of iron heated to whiteness!\u201d\n\nHe turned back the sleeves of his robe from his white arms, and held them\nout. Upon one arm in great red letters was the word Moloch, on the other\nthe word Beelzebub.\n\n\u201cIt was dreadful! dreadful!\u2014but henceforth they are mine.\u201d\n\nThe serpent writhed and protruded his tongue. The leopard showed his white\nteeth, but dropped his yellow head between his paws.\n\n\u201cI have told you,\u201d he continued, scornfully, \u201cwhat constitutes your\nambition. Now I will tell you mine. To me belongs the glory of having\norganized magic and associated magicians. I found them a horde of\nwandering hunters; I shall make them an invisible phalanx of soldiers. I\nhave more than two thousand magicians, in seven different countries, who\nobey me as one man. By concerted action we have obtained the secret\nhistory, the hidden life of all the governors, consuls, warriors, kings\nand great men throughout that vast region. I am maturing my plans to get\nthem all under my sovereign control. Other conquerors operate from\nwithout, by sword and spear and catapult. I conquer from within, by hope\nand fear and lust and passion and terror. Unseen, unsuspected, unknown,\nwith legions of invisible soldiers, I shall get possession of all their\ntreasures, all their palaces, all their thrones!\n\n\u201cDo you not see it?\u201d he exclaimed, wildly, starting to his feet. \u201cThe\nlever which truly moves the world lies always on the spiritual side of our\nlife. I advance from the right quarter to my designs. I shall subdue the\nsouls and bodies of men. I shall possess myself of all they possess. I\nshall become emperor of Rome\u2014yea, monarch of the world. Further still:\u2014I\nshall advance from realm to realm, from sphere to sphere in the spiritual\nuniverse, marshaling around me my hosts of conquering spirits. I shall\npronounce the Unspeakable Name. My own name shall become Unspeakable!\u201d\n\nWhile the magician\u2019s imagination soared away in this flight of boundless\nambition, his form dilated; a fierce red flush came over his face; his\neye, fired with a baleful brilliancy; and the maniac stood forth the very\nimpersonation of that Self-Love which is the moving and controlling genius\nof hell.\n\nHis hearers trembled at his words and manner.\n\nHe sunk back into his chair and leaned his brow upon his hand. No one\ndisturbed his reverie. All were spellbound by the speaker\u2019s enthusiasm.\nAfter several minutes he raised his head and continued in a subdued tone:\n\n\u201cBut, alas! my friends! this glorious dream is far from accomplishment. If\nwe had only to conquer the race of men, the difficulties would not be\ninsuperable. But our fiercest fight is on the spiritual side. All are\ncontending for the same prizes\u2014power and glory. When we have beaten back\nthe shining ones whom they call angels, our combat begins with each other;\nfor each demands all for himself.\n\n\u201cYet I despair not\u201d\u2014he added, after another pause and with a certain\nsadness in his manner\u2014\u201cI despair not of realizing my inexpressible dream.\nI have come into possession lately of an ancient and wonder-working\nformula, whereby I hope to take many steps forward. Listen!\n\n\u201cI discovered by secret means only to be acquired in Egypt, that in a\ncertain wild spot of the Lybian desert one of the oldest and greatest\ncities of the world was buried in the sand; a city so old that it has no\nhistorical record; a people inconceivably wicked, in comparison with whom\nthe people of Sodom and Gomorrah were children sporting in the golden dawn\nof innocence. This city and these people had been overwhelmed by the same\nPower which buried the cities of the plain in the Salt Sea.\n\n\u201cI found this spot. By the aid of spiritual powers I burrowed my way into\ntheir buried palaces and temples. I exhumed their remains. I made food and\ndrink of their ashes. The spirits who accompanied me fled away, and I was\nleft alone. I blended my being with that of the lost people. I became a\nskeleton among skeletons, a shade among shades. I conquered. I drew voices\nout of the silence, forms out of the darkness, life out of death. I\nsummoned with difficulty and danger the ruling spirits of the perished\nrace. I mastered their master. I made him my slave. I compelled him to\ndisgorge the secrets of the wilderness and the grave. I have enriched\nmyself with treasures of knowledge and power, of which no man even\ndreams.\u201d\n\nIntense excitement pervaded his listeners\u2014fear of the man and stupefaction\nat his words.\n\n\u201cI will show you,\u201d he continued\u2014\u201cby a strange art I have acquired, I will\nshow you this new demon who is also one of the oldest. I have summoned\nthis antediluvian monster to-night. He stands before me face to face, like\nman to man. You cannot hear his voice nor see his shape; but you shall\nfeel his presence and mark his shadow on the wall.\u201d\n\nHe now let down a large white curtain against the wall, to the top of\nwhich it had been rolled like a great map. He resumed his seat and drew\nforth a curious cup from a drawer in the table. It had words and figures\nengraven upon it. He gazed intently into the cup, and pronounced some\nwords in an unknown tongue.\n\nA moment of awful silence ensued, every one gazing steadfastly at the\ncurtain and hearing the beating of his own heart. Suddenly a strange,\nbenumbing, paralyzing sensation invaded the nerves of all present. It was\nthe approaching sphere of the antediluvian spirit.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d said the magician hoarsely, \u201cSee! He comes!\u201d\n\nAnd sure enough! Like the shadow of a man which the moon makes when it is\ngoing down, there crept a shadow up over the curtain; dim, wavering,\nmisshapen, which slowly settled into distincter form, and stood with\nbended head and sweeping beard, with tottering knee and outstretched arms,\nlike a very old man of gigantic size begging alms.\n\nAll shuddered at the presence of this terrific spirit, more than Saul at\nthe rising of Samuel in the cave of the witch of Endor.\n\n\u201cFrom this most ancient arch-demon of our art,\u201d continued Simon, pointing\nto the shadow, \u201cI have extorted a method of incantation which promises\nmore power and glory than all the combined rites and amulets in the world.\nHe will confirm what I say.\u201d\n\nThe shadow slowly turned its old and hideous face toward the audience and\nmade an affirmative motion with its head. It then passed away from the\ncurtain like the shadow of a cloud creeping over a field of grain. All\nbreathed more freely.\n\n\u201cThis formula will procure me a liquid of such potent magnetic virtue,\nthat a single drop of it put into a glass of wine will bind the woman who\ndrinks it, entirely and for ever, soul and body, to the man who\nadministers it. She will surrender friends, home, name, fame, everything\nto his wishes.\n\n\u201cMiserable sensualists that you are,\u201d he exclaimed, raising his voice and\nconfronting his cowering audience, \u201cthe use for which you would chiefly\nvalue this inestimable secret has no attractions for me. My spirit looks\nupward, not downward. I scorn pleasure. I love glory and power. Through\nwoman I shall conquer man. Woman herself shall be the agent of\ntransferring all that husbands, lovers, brothers, sons, friends possess,\nto the great magician who shall be a god in her eyes.\u201d\n\n\u201cGlorious ambition!\u201d exclaimed Caiaphas.\n\n\u201cWhen I have achieved the conquest of the world,\u201d said the earnest madman,\n\u201cI will resign the women to you, as a conqueror throws the treasures of a\nsacked city to the soldiers who have won him a crown.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the liquid?\u201d inquired Magistus\u2014\u201chow is it to be obtained?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat brought me hither from my subterranean palace in Egypt, where I was\ninitiated into the sacred mysteries by Isis herself.\u201d\n\nAll ears paid him the strictest attention.\n\n\u201cI must obtain the body of a young girl and convey it to the buried city\nof the sands, where Ja-bol-he-moth, whom you saw just now, will assist me\nin the magical rites. We must take her alive. I have made every\npreparation. I have a vehicle specially constructed for concealment. That\nwill convey us to Joppa whence I have just come. From there to Alexandria\nby a vessel which awaits me. Thence to the Lybian desert.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the young woman?\u201d asked Caiaphas.\n\n\u201cShe must be pure as the snow nearest heaven: innocent as the babe tended\nby angels: beautiful as Aurora when she treads the golden pavement with\nher feet of pearl: loving as the heart of Spring when she gives her life\nto the earth: holy as the spirit of prayer which breathed from the lyre of\nKing David.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what would you do with this peerless maiden?\u201d said some one in the\ngroup.\n\n\u201cAre you acquainted with the processes and powers of magic, and do you ask\nsuch a question? Do you know the virtues of the dust of a dove\u2019s heart? of\nthe ashes of a viper\u2019s tongue? of the pulverized bones of a babe\u2019s head?\nof the blood of a living man? Can you not imagine what subtile forces we\nmay extract from the essences of a virgin body?\u201d\n\n\u201cHas your oracle directed you where to find this wonderful woman?\u201d asked\nMagistus.\n\n\u201cMy presence here is a warrant that it has. That woman is a Jewess, of the\ntribe of Benjamin, the youngest child, born at the death of her mother.\u201d\n\nThese were the last words heard by either Ulema or Martha. These\naffrighted women had been the silent witnesses and auditors of the\nextraordinary scene I have described. With increasing amazement and terror\nthey found themselves unable to stand, and they sank softly upon the\nfloor. When the object of Simon\u2019s visit to Bethany began to reveal itself,\nthey trembled with intense fear. When the horrible idea took distinct\nshape in her mind, Martha had almost burst into a wild shriek of agony.\nThe shriek was with great difficulty suppressed. The terror and agony were\nborne in upon the young soul, and she fell into a long and fearful swoon\nwhich seemed death itself.\n\nAfter a long, long time, when all was still and dark, Ethopus approached\nas softly as he had departed. He aroused Ulema from her trance of grief,\nand the two bore the unreviving form of Martha back to the chamber. She\nwas laid upon the bed; and as Ethopus passed out of the door, Ulema saw\nhim by the dim light of the stars lifting his face and hands earnestly to\nheaven.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   VII.\n\n\n                                 _SAVED._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nAfter Martha came out of her swoon, the night was spent in consultation\nbetween the two women as to the surest method of averting the catastrophe\nwhich impended. It was determined that the sisters should escape from the\nhouse early in the morning, and appeal for help to some worthy and\ninfluential residents of Bethany, friends of my father. They were so sure\nof obtaining succor and deliverance, that they became quite cheerful as\nthe sunlight broke above the hills.\n\nMagistus suddenly entered the room, and their hearts sank within them as\nthey noticed the silent ferocity of his countenance. Without saying a word\nhe clasped iron rings upon their ankles and wrists, and chained them\nsecurely to the bed-posts. Their tears, cries, inquiries, supplications,\nwere all in vain. He took no notice of them whatever, and locked and\nbolted the door behind them, leaving them bound and in despair.\n\nA different but equally painful scene occurred in the chamber of Mary\nMagdalen. Mary, my sister, had just awakened with a deep sigh, and began\nnarrating an ominous dream which had disturbed her night\u2019s rest, when a\nloud knock was heard at the door, and a strange voice commanded them to\ndress and come forth immediately. They sprang up in great trepidation and\nobeyed the order. On opening the door they turned back into the room with\na loud shriek.\n\nSimon Magus stood before them with his serpent and leopard. He had these\ncreatures about him almost constantly. It was to keep them in good\ntraining, for his personal protection, to excite wonder, to inspire awe,\nand to enforce his authority. They were admirable adjuvants to his\npretensions and power. Every one quailed before them.\n\nHe assured the women that his pets should not hurt them, if they followed\nhim in silence, turning neither to the right nor to the left. There was no\nalternative but to obey. He conducted them to our father\u2019s residence\nthrough the gardens and the gate in the garden wall. He had given every\npoint a recent inspection. He passed into the inner courtyard, and led\nthem down a flight of steps to a room in the cellar used by two of the\ndomestics as a bed-chamber. Here he locked and bolted them in and retired.\n\nThus were the sisters secured without the possibility of communication or\nescape. The conspirators took every possible precaution. No one was\npermitted to leave the grounds, or to come in during the day. Magistus or\nSimon kept the black eunuch continually in sight. Whether his agitated and\nanxious manner betrayed him, or whether the magician really read his\nthoughts, his masters suspected that Ethopus meditated a revolt against\nthe snares which had fascinated the leopard and the serpent. He was\nclosely watched.\n\nThe situation of this poor fellow was very touching. His dark face was an\nindex of a darkened soul, not by evil but by the absence of light. Under\nhis homely exterior was a brave and generous heart. He was born and reared\nin a barbaric land, full of strange beasts and birds and stranger men,\nwhere Nature herself is wild and savage. He had been the victim of\nincredible oppression and cruelty. It is wonderful that the last spark of\nhuman feeling had not been trodden out from his spirit.\n\nIt spoke well for the native richness of the soil when good seed sprang up\nso luxuriantly as soon as planted. From the day he became acquainted with\nmy sisters and myself, a new life had dawned upon him. Friendly voices,\ngentle words, kindly looks, sympathizing deeds, were food and drink to his\namiable and child-like nature. His soul grew and expanded under them as\nflowers under dew and sunlight. Sincere attachment to us and hatred of our\ncommon enemies took possession of the whole man. He was ready for any\nlabor, any danger, any sacrifice in our behalf.\n\nImagine the mental tortures of this humble and voiceless friend, when he\nsaw the terrible fate which was impending over us, and found himself so\nhelpless to avert it or to assist us!\n\nThus passed away the long, dreary, gloomy day\u2014the day of my father\u2019s\nfuneral. It was spent by my sisters in prayer and tears and unavailing\nstruggles to escape or to make themselves heard. Mary Magdalen identified\nherself thoroughly with the gentle and innocent child with whom she was\nimprisoned. She taxed her ingenuity to the utmost to give her consolation\nand hope; and when invention failed, she resorted to tears.\n\n\u201cDo you ever pray to God?\u201d said little Mary.\n\n\u201cTo which God?\u201d asked Mary Magdalen.\n\n\u201cWhich God? There is but one God!\u201d\n\n\u201cMagistus has the statues of a dozen gods and goddesses in his house; and\nhe says that all of them answer prayer when they are presented with\nsplendid gifts.\u201d\n\n\u201cJehovah, the only God,\u201d said the child with sweet solemnity, \u201cheareth the\nprayer of the humble and contrite heart. He heareth the poor and needy,\nand lifteth up all who are cast down.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow beautiful!\u201d exclaimed Mary Magdalen with a deep sigh; and she fell\ninto a profound reverie with downcast eyes, while a solitary tear, the\nfirst pearl of genuine repentance, trickled down her cheek.\n\nAbout nightfall Simon Magus unlocked the door and called Mary Magdalen out\nof the room. He closed the door behind her, so that Mary could not hear\nwhat he said. He put into her hands two cups of different patterns\ncontaining milk.\n\n\u201cThis one,\u201d said he, \u201cyou will give to the child; this you will drink\nyourself. Be careful and not forget. Your life depends upon it. If you\nfail to obey me, I will feed your body piecemeal to my leopard.\u201d\n\nTerror-stricken as well by his manner as his words, she took the cups\nmechanically from his hands and passed into the room. He carefully locked\nthe door again.\n\nBewildered by this new blow, she took her seat in silence, a cup in each\nhand. She strove to collect her thoughts. Poison to Mary or death to\nherself! That was the alternative. Her nature was impulsive and\npassionate. She reached her conclusions quickly, and she acted upon them\ninstantaneously.\n\n\u201cWhat is my wretched life worth in comparison with hers?\u201d was the silent\nlanguage of her heart, \u201cWhat attraction has life for me, poor, guilty,\nforlorn, forsaken thing?\u201d She drank from the cup intended for Mary.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter,\u201d said my sister, who had noticed her singular\nabstraction and agitation. \u201cWhat are you drinking?\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly some milk. I was so frightened by that terrible man that I forgot\nwhat I was doing. Excuse me for drinking first. Here is a cup for you.\u201d\n\nThe unsuspecting child drank it eagerly, having passed the whole day\nsuffering from both hunger and thirst. Taken after fasting, poisons act\nquickly. It was not long before Mary Magdalen began to have strange\nswimmings in the head and benumbing sensations along the course of all her\nnerves. She felt sure that her death was approaching.\n\n\u201cMary,\u201d said the brave girl, \u201cwhen you are delivered from these dangers\nand your brother comes home and I go away, will you remember me\nsometimes?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will not go away.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes. I shall go away, far, far away.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall live with us always,\u201d said Mary.\n\n\u201cI cannot! I cannot! When I am gone, and they tell you evil and cruel\nthings of me, will you think of me kindly and love me still?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not believe them.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut if you should believe them, would you love me still? I cannot live\nwithout your love.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will love you for ever,\u201d said Mary, throwing her arms around her neck.\n\u201cWhy do you speak so sadly? You frighten me. What is the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sleepy, so sleepy,\u201d said Mary Magdalen, stretching herself on the\ncouch.\n\nMary knelt at her side, chafing her hands, with some vague foreboding\nrising on her mind.\n\n\u201cOh do not go to sleep so early. Do not leave me alone in the dark. Talk\nto me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMary,\u201d said the stupefied woman slowly and with difficulty, \u201cdoes Jehovah\nwho accepts the offering of a contrite heart, ever receive into his heaven\na very great sinner?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly, certainly!\u201d said the child.\n\n\u201cThen pray for me.\u201d\n\nNo words, no shaking, no supplications, no frantic screams could arouse\nher again; and Mary beat her bosom and tore her hair in the extremity of\ngrief at the side of her inanimate friend.\n\nAbout an hour before midnight four men stood in the inner courtyard of my\nfather\u2019s house. Caiaphas and Simon Magus were engaged in earnest\nconversation. Magistus turned to the black mute whom he had compelled to\naccompany him everywhere, and said:\n\n\u201cI shall go half a day\u2019s journey with Simon. We will start now in ten\nminutes. Haste to the stables where his chariot and servant are in\nwaiting. Drive quietly around to the front gate of this house. Here is the\nkey to Ulema\u2019s chamber. After we have gone, not before, give those women\nsome food.\u201d\n\nEthopus departed. He left the gate in the garden wall open. He hurried to\nUlema\u2019s room. He released the astonished women. He drew them out upon the\ngallery. He pointed eagerly to the garden gate and over to my father\u2019s\nhouse. It was all he could do. He was wild with excitement, and the\ngestures of the dumb man were those of despair. He then ran toward the\nstables.\n\nThe women started on their dangerous journey, not knowing what was to be\ndone. They hurried along the flowery walks in the greatest trepidation. On\nascending our terraced garden, Ulema, weak, sick and overwhelmed with\nemotion, fainted and fell. Martha tried in vain to revive her. Time was\nflying. Faint screams now issued from the house. Mary was being abducted!\nShe started up and without thinking,\u2014for thought would have paralyzed her\nefforts,\u2014rushed to the rescue alone.\n\nThe miscreants had descended into the cellar. Great was their astonishment\nto find Mary Magdalen in a profound stupor and the little Mary weeping at\nher side.\n\n\u201cThis delays us,\u201d said Simon, with great vexation. \u201cThat traitorous woman\nhas taken the opiate herself. It will be necessary to bind and gag the\nlittle one. No sounds must issue from the chariot, no suspicions be\nexcited.\u201d\n\nIt was during this terrible process of binding and gagging that the\nscreams were made which Martha heard in the garden. It was effected; and\nthe three men were bearing the silent and muffled body through the\ncourtyard, when Martha rushed toward them with a loud shriek of\nsupplication.\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d thundered Simon, \u201cwould you betray us?\u201d And uncoiling his great\nserpent from his neck (the leopard was locked up in the chariot), he threw\nit toward her. \u201cStrike her!\u201d he said, in a hissing tone. The serpent, as\nif acting intelligently, made an immense coil of its body and raised its\nhead threateningly toward Martha. She fled in terror up the stairway\nleading to the flat top of the house.\n\n\u201cPursue her!\u201d said Simon to Caiaphas\u2014\u201cpursue her and keep her silent with\nyour dagger until we have escaped.\u201d\n\nCaiaphas bounded after her. She turned and faced him on the house-top. He\nthreatened to plunge the dagger into her heart if she made a sound. She\nbacked before him to the parapet. It was at that moment when the moon,\nsuddenly emerging from the cloud, revealed to me, as I was approaching my\nfather\u2019s house, the two figures; my sister raising her arms wildly to\nheaven, and the wicked priest threatening to strike.\n\nAt that moment I entered the courtyard and confronted Magistus and Simon,\nwho were bearing my sister toward the gate. I drew the dagger Ethopus had\ngiven me, and plunged it into the side of Magistus who was nearest to me.\nHe sank upon the ground with his burden, uttering a deep groan. Simon\nrushed upon me and in a moment we were engaged in a deadly struggle. He\nwas a man of astonishing strength. He threw me at last upon the ground and\nhad nearly wrested my dagger from me, when Ethopus who had been concealed\nbehind the gate sprang to my assistance. He dragged the magician back by\nthe shoulders, and at the same instant there was a loud scream from Martha\non the parapet, and the sound of voices and footsteps at the gate. Two\npersons rushed in to our aid; and Simon suddenly springing from us all,\nescaped into the street, and in a second the wheels of his chariot rattled\naway with the utmost rapidity.\n\nCaiaphas, seeing that his party was vanquished, fled away through the\ngarden to the house of Magistus. Martha hurried down and rejoined her\nfriends below. Ethopus brought lights as quickly as possible, although I\nhad already recognized in the new-comers the good old Persian whom\nBarabbas held prisoner, and my late deliverer who had styled himself the\nSon of the Desert.\n\nMary was released from her wrappages and threw herself alternately into\nthe arms of brother and sister. Ethopus enjoyed this scene with gestures\nof frantic delight. The happy party was suddenly startled by the groans of\nthe wounded man, who had dragged himself away and was leaning against the\nwall of the house, bleeding profusely.\n\nWe laid him on the floor of the reception-room, and the Son of the Desert,\nwho was an adept in such matters, stanched the blood and bandaged his\nhurt, pronouncing it severe but not mortal. When Magistus opened his eyes\nand saw the old Persian bending over him, he stared at him with amazement,\nand stammered forth:\n\n\u201cSurely this is my renegade brother-in-law, who has renounced the name and\nreligion of his fathers and calls himself Beltrezzor.\u201d\n\nHe was right. Beltrezzor was our uncle, our father\u2019s only brother, our\nnext of kin, our legal guardian!\n\nThis recognition gave us all the greatest delight. After mutual\ncongratulations we hastened to recover poor Ulema from her trance, and to\nconvey her and her wounded husband to their own home. Mary Magdalen was\nbrought up into an airy, upper room, and every effort was made to rouse\nher from her comatose state; but in vain. A good nurse was placed at her\nbedside charged to render her every attention.\n\nThe Son of the Desert spent the night under our roof, and proceeded the\nnext morning to Jerusalem with Beltrezzor. He refused to appear at the\ntable with the women and declined all the rewards and presents which our\ngratitude induced us to offer.\n\nIt seems that Beltrezzor\u2019s friend had sent one-half of the ransom by the\nrobbers who passed me going down the ravine, promising the other half in\ntwo days after, on the delivery of Beltrezzor himself at Jerusalem.\nBarabbas had entrusted the Son of the Desert with that mission. The old\nman had been slow in his movements, and night with its black cloud had\novertaken them before reaching the highway. Reflecting that the trumpets\nof the Roman soldiery had sounded the evening tattoo, Beltrezzor had\nluckily suggested that they should turn aside into Bethany, where he had a\nbrother whom he had not seen for thirty years. They came close behind my\nown weary footsteps, and I have told the result.\n\nThe second day after these surprising events, Mary Magdalen disappeared\nsuddenly to our great regret, leaving no clue by which she could be\ntraced. She awoke from her artificial sleep about daylight, and the nurse\nsupplied her with food, and told her the wonderful things which had\nhappened. She went away, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the nurse.\n\n\u201cTell them,\u201d said she, \u201cthat I rejoice at their good fortune, and that I\nlove them so much that I lift the shadow of my presence from the sunshine\nof their peace.\u201d\n\nPoor Magdalen!\n\nMy new and real uncle, Beltrezzor, had a bargain to make with Magistus and\nhis young friend, the hypocrite Caiaphas. It was easily affected. We were\nin possession of facts which would have exposed them both to public\ninfamy, and have cut short the ambitious career of the talented priest.\n\nSilence on our part was purchased at the following price:\n\nBeltrezzor was a pagan, and objections might be raised in the Jewish\nSanhedrim to his taking possession of a Jewish estate and the charge of\nJewish orphans. Magistus and Caiaphas were to obviate these objections,\nand to secure him the legal guardianship.\n\nEthopus was to be declared a freedman.\n\nBeltrezzor, my sisters and myself were to be permitted to visit Ulema\nevery Sabbath so long as she lived.\n\nIn addition to his liberty, Beltrezzor presented Ethopus with a precious\nstone of considerable value, upon which was engraved a mystic name. This\ngem had great reputation in the magical fraternity for releasing its\npossessor from the spell of the most powerful enchantment. Whether some\nchange really came over his spirit, or whether his imagination did the\nwork, Ethopus acted as if some great burden had been lifted from his soul.\nHe entered at once into our service, and his gratitude seemed only equaled\nby his humility.\n\nBeltrezzor took possession of my father\u2019s estate, and to our great joy\ndetermined to reside at Bethany during our minority. Under his judicious\nand liberal management everything soon blossomed like the rose. He adorned\nour residence with all the chaste and beautiful treasures of architecture\nand art. He surrounded my charming sisters with every luxury that the most\ncultivated fancy could suggest. He devoted himself especially to our\neducation, and our house became the favorite resort of all that was most\nlearned and brilliant in Jewish society.\n\nThus several years passed happily away, overshadowed by no cloud. If a\ntear ever came into our eyes, it was consecrated to the memory of our dear\nfather, and to the reflection that he had perished so sadly in the\nwilderness, without knowing the good fortune which was in store for his\nchildren.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  VIII.\n\n\n                          _BREAD ON THE WATERS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nThe impression made upon our minds by these extraordinary events was\nineffaceable. After three days and nights of perilous adventure and\nsuffering, from a youth I became a man. From little girls, my sisters\nbecame women. There was ever afterward about us a pensiveness, a gravity\nof manner, a too early maturity of thought, which excited the pity of\nthose who had known us during our father\u2019s life, when a happy childhood\nbroke forth into smiles and pleasures, like a genial spring blossoming out\ninto perfumes and flowers.\n\nOur six months of domestic life under the management of Magistus, with its\ngloom, its neglect, its suspicions, its want of love and liberty, stood in\npainful contrast with the merry sports, the delightful peace and the\nreligious sunshine of our father\u2019s household. It was night compared with\nday. But the unmasking of the characters of Caiaphas and Magistus was a\nrude shock to our tender spirits. We had revealed to us at one view the\nutmost depths of human depravity. We had stood consciously amid the\nhideous and revolting spheres of hypocrisy, sensuality, robbery and\nmurder. There was a leprosy of the soul as well as of the body; there were\nwild beasts of the spirit; there was a wilderness of the mind; there was a\ndeath masquerading in the garments of life; and we had seen them all. We\nhad looked into hell.\n\nThis early and deep insight into the fearful connection between evil\nspirits and wicked men, and their combined influence over the world, was\nin one sense salutary. The recoil from the bottomless abyss into which we\nhad peeped, produced a rapid and unusual development of the moral nature.\nIn my sisters it took a religious, in myself a philosophical turn.\n\nThose young girls, constitutionally pious and full of gratitude to God,\nsought renewed strength and comfort in the exercises of faith and\nreligious duty. They devoted themselves to prayer and the study of the\nScriptures. With the womanly nature of the vine, which must cling to\nsomething of firmer texture and stronger growth, they attached themselves\ntrustingly to the priests and scribes and doctors of the law, with a\nnatural and pardonable feeling. But they avoided Caiaphas.\n\nI do not remember that I ever felt any decided respect or love for the\nreligious institutions of my country. I was born, I suppose, with the\nelement of veneration for the past left out of my mental organization. I\nnever could understand why men look back to the infancy and childhood of\nthe race for the oracles of wisdom. It is rather the business of each\ncentury to scrutinize rigidly the inheritance it has received from the\npreceding century, and to reject everything which is worthless,\nunphilosophical and immature.\n\nI was largely indebted to my father for my progressive temperament. He\ndespised pretension and ceremony. He conformed his life rather to the\nspirit than to the letter of the law. His understanding sturdily revolted\nagainst the mysterious and improbable. We were not trained after the\nstrict manner of the Pharisees, but with that freedom of action which does\nnot crush the individuality of the child. The reformer, the innovator, the\nman of new ideas and life, is seldom born of the narrow-minded literalist\nand bigot of an old system. The father is generally an intermediate link\nbetween the old and the new; adhering loosely to the old himself, and\nprophesying, inarticulately perhaps, the emancipation of his son from the\nthraldom of the past.\n\nWhen we get rid of the conventionalisms of an old and perishing system, we\nbecome peculiarly open and sensitive to the grand intuitions of natural\nreligion. The gorgeous ceremonies of the temple made little impression\neven on my boyish fancy: they were tiresome and disgusting to my riper\nyears. But I melted into tender admiration at the thought of John the\nBaptist, praying and toiling in the wilderness, unseen of men, trusting in\nGod, and receiving to his loving bosom and care, the leper, the robber and\nthe lost ones of the world.\n\nOne of the teachers provided me by my excellent uncle Beltrezzor, was a\nGreek; and the study of that wonderful language and literature led me\nstill farther away from the influence of Judaism, corrupted and failing as\nit was. I was not slow to assert that the poetry of \u00c6schylus and Homer\ncharmed me more than that of David and Isaiah; and that the philosophy of\nPlato exceeded in value all the learning of the Scribes.\n\nMy heretical opinions, candidly avowed on proper occasions, but never\nobtruded, had a gradual effect in breaking the spell of enthusiasm which\nbound my sisters to the priesthood and the ritual. But the examples and\nconversations of Beltrezzor had a still greater influence in lifting their\nminds out of that narrow and exclusive circle of thought, in which the\ntypical Jew is born, lives and dies.\n\nBeltrezzor was a man of most beautiful and lovely character. Simple in his\nown tastes and dress, frugal in his own habits, but generous and even\nlavish to others; cheerful and polite; active and industrious; truthful\nand unselfish; full of liberal opinions and tender sympathies; he charmed\nall who knew him by the purity and nobleness of his mind and the suavity\nof his manners. One of the most opulent and honored men in his adopted\ncountry, and an inveterate traveler by habit, he had quietly settled down\nin the little village of Bethany to consecrate several years of his life\nto our education and happiness.\n\nYet the model man, the like of whom we had never seen in Priest or Scribe,\nwas in our eyes a renegade and a pagan. He had abandoned the doctrines and\nprecepts of Moses for those of Zoroaster. His religion, which appeared so\nsweetly in his life, was a puzzle to us, for we expected to discover its\nquality in its outward observances. The following manifestations of the\nreligious spirit were all we ever detected: He sometimes looked from his\nwindow at the rising sun, and muttered something like a prayer with bowed\nhead. He always spoke of Fire with a strange reverence, and said it was\nsynonymous with Power and Beauty. He kissed his hand to the first star he\nsaw in the evening. On the last day of every year, he had fruits, flowers,\nwine and rice brought into his chamber, as offerings to the spirits of his\ndeparted friends, who, he believed, visited him on that occasion.\n\nBehold the simple ceremonial upon which was based so much goodness of\nheart and so much wisdom of thought!\n\n\u201cWho was Zoroaster?\u201d asked Martha one day of her uncle.\n\n\u201cZoroaster, my child, was the friend and companion of Abraham. They lived\ntogether in Haran until the Great Being, Ormuzd, the King of Light, called\nJehovah by the Jews, summoned them both to leave their country and fill a\nsacred mission. Zoroaster went to the east and Abraham to the west.\nZoroaster like Moses received the book of God on the top of a burning\nmountain, and gave laws to the people.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat kind of laws, uncle?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe essential moral teachings are as much like those of Moses as twin\nsisters are like each other.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you do not worship idols?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo\u2014we detest them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou do not worship any of the gods of the pagan nations?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, my child! There is but one God, Ormuzd, King of Light. All religions\ncome from him. Some are purer and more perfect than others. All true\nprophets and priests are his servants. False priests and magicians are in\nleague with evil spirits. They are children of Ahrimanes.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf there is such fundamental identity, why then, uncle, do you prefer the\nreligion of Zoroaster to that of Moses?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause its ritual is more simple, beautiful and sublime; because its\ndoctrines are more rational and philosophical; because the people who\nbelieve it and live it, are more liberal and loving and enlightened than\nthe Jews; because it brings the soul nearer to the Power and Beauty of the\nsun.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle,\u201d said Mary, affectionately kissing his hand, \u201care all the\nworshipers of Ormuzd as good and pure and sweet-tempered as you are?\u201d\n\nThe old man blushed: \u201cThe teachings of Zoroaster tend to make men far\npurer and better than I.\u201d\n\nThe sisters sank into a deep reverie. They had a glimpse of that great\nworld of moral light and beauty, which lay entirely outside of the limits\nof the Jewish faith. They gazed on it with wonder.\n\n\u201cBut, uncle,\u201d said Martha, \u201cin the great day of judgment will not the\nunbelievers be sentenced to eternal punishment?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the last day, my child, all the metals in the world will melt with\nheat, and all human souls, living and dead, will pass in judgment through\nthe fiery element. To the good it will feel like a fragrant bath of warm\nmilk; to the evil it will be a torrent of burning lava. It will consume,\nhowever, nothing but the wicked lusts of the heart. Evil will thus be\ndestroyed; and all men, freely forgiven by Ormuzd, will unite in a\nuniversal chorus of love and praise.\u201d\n\nThe sphere of our uncle\u2019s life and character taught us charity for even\nrenegades and pagans; and the beauty and rationality of his singular\ndoctrines made me suspect that truth had temples elsewhere than in Judea.\nI became fairly emancipated from the Jewish Church, and looked for the\nregeneration of mankind to the ennobling and purifying influence of\nknowledge, which, I believed, would finally illumine the world with its\nwaves of rosy light. Beautiful and illusive dream!\n\nMy sisters, disgusted as they soon became, with the fanatics, hypocrites\nand impostors who thronged the temple, were not ready to cut loose from\nthe faith of Moses or the ceremonies of the law. They deplored the\ncorruptions and deadness of the Church. They shrank from the ritualists\nwho had no religion, and from the devotees who had no love in their\nhearts. They sought consolation by looking eagerly for the Messiah, who\nwas to restore the sceptre to Israel and rekindle the embers of faith and\npiety in the church.\n\nMartha and Mary pondered upon all they had ever heard or read on this\nwonderful subject. Born of a virgin, \u201cthe Prince of Peace, the Mighty\nCounselor, the Everlasting Father,\u201d was coming in the flesh? They\ndelighted to search the Scriptures for traces and predictions of his\nbirth, his appearance and his mission. They loved to walk in the grove of\nolives which crowned the mount in rear of our house, whence they could see\nthe marble colonnades of the temple and its vast roof all fretted with\ngolden spikes, while they conversed arm in arm on their favorite theme.\n\nThus were we being secretly prepared by the experiences and circumstances\nof our life, for the reception of the new and strange religion of Christ.\nThe thoughtful analysis of the past history of any human life, will reveal\nhere and there the movings of the finger of God. We do not see the divine\nprovidence as an event approaches, but only after it has transpired.\nJehovah showed his back, not his face to Moses.\n\nSome may be surprised at the idea that certain minds were _prepared_ for\nthe reception of the Christian religion by processes directed by divine\nprovidence. They suppose that every one who saw the miracles and heard the\nwords of Christ, could have believed in him and followed him if he had\nchosen. It is a mistake. There were many noble and pious Jews, to whose\nminds the words and miracles of Christ had no weight whatever; who\nrejected him unhesitatingly as a dreamer or an impostor. They were not\nprepared to receive him.\n\nThere have been several revelations or dispensations of Divine Truth; and\nthere will unquestionably be more. The new revelation is seldom or never\nreceived by the adherents of the old. The force of the decaying system is\nfirst broken by schism. After schism comes a spirit of free inquiry, and\nskepticism is developed. The old foundations are broken up; new ideas, new\ninfluences, new life start forth. Then comes the possibility of a renewed\ndevelopment, a reconsideration of principles, the evolution of higher and\nmore spiritual truth.\n\nThis fact was illustrated in the early days of Christianity. The first\ndisciples were not the leading spirits and great lights of the old\ndispensation, who regarded themselves as the special guardians of\nreligious truth. That class misunderstood Christ and rejected him. The men\nand women who forsook all and followed him had no special reverence for\nthe Jewish law and its ceremonies. Singularly enough, they were not\npersons of strong religious convictions, however holy their life became\nafter receiving the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. They had outlived or\nspiritually outgrown the Jewish dispensation. They cared little or nothing\nfor the opinions of priest or scribe. They stood aloof from the Jewish\nceremonial with skeptical indifference, waiting for Providence to give\nthem something radically new. They knew Christ by intuition; their spirits\nhad been organically prepared for his reception.\n\nChrist rejected the Jewish Church long before it rejected him. He\nneglected its ceremonies; he violated its laws; he disregarded its\nsuperstitions; he ignored its magnates; he chose his associates from the\npublicans and sinners of civil life, and his disciples from the publicans\nand sinners of the moral world. If he ever comes again, the same phenomena\nwill recur; for the Divine laws repeat themselves, like the return of\ncomets and the revolutions of the sun.\n\nI was acquainted with most of the persons who organized the infant Church\nof Christ. There were within my knowledge but two exceptions to the\ngeneral law, that those who acknowledged the Messiah first and most\ncordially, were outside of the orthodox pale. Thomas Didymus was a rigid\nPharisee and ritualist. He believed nothing which he could not see with\nhis own eyes and touch with his own hands. He was the least spiritual of\nall the disciples.\n\nPaul, the apostle to the Gentiles, was a man of ardent imagination,\nintense faith and great genius. His mind, however, was cast in the\nantiquated mould; and he was a stickler for orthodox observances. No logic\nor rhetoric, however eloquent and convincing, could ever have shaken him\nfrom his Pharisaic attachments. The miraculous interposition of heaven was\nnecessary to turn him from the service of the Jewish Sanhedrim.\n\nNot without influence also in preparing us for the new era, was the\ncharacter of John the Hermit, afterward known as John the Baptist. For\nseveral years we paid two annual visits to the tomb of our father, and to\nthe cave of the extraordinary young man who had befriended him in his last\nillness. One of these visits was made when the angel of spring had touched\nthe snow-wreaths of winter with her silver wand and turned them into\nflowers. The other was made when the forests of autumn clothed themselves\nin their festal robes of crimson and gold, to celebrate the approach of\ndeath with its prophecy of resurrection.\n\nWe chose one beautiful and cloudless morning, and making an early start,\nmounted upon sure-footed mules, and well provided against those demons of\nthe desert\u2014hunger and thirst\u2014we crept slowly along over the brown hills\nand through the desolate hollows. Ethopus and two or three more stout\ndomestics always attended us as a bodyguard. We made a picturesque party,\nencamping in the mouth of the sacred cavern, startling the silence of the\nwilderness with happy voices, and breaking its wild solitudes with the\nenchanting presence of beauty and love.\n\nJohn always received us with a graceful suavity, which seemed strange in\none so unaccustomed to society. We first paid our visit to our father\u2019s\ngrave, and offered our tribute of tears to the ashes and memory of the\nbeloved. The prophet would improve the occasion to our spiritual\nadvantage, by repeating with simple eloquence many appropriate verses of\nScripture. We then returned to the cavern and conversed with the\nheavenly-minded recluse, startling the echoes of his lonely hermitage with\nincidents of life and travel and society, and with scraps of history,\nbiography, poetry and philosophy, brought from the gay and busy circle in\nwhich we moved.\n\nThe prophet bore a quiet share in our animated talk, and partook sparingly\nof our ample repast. He was full of childlike earnestness and credulity,\neasily excited to smiles, easily moved to tears. The sphere of his\nthoughts and feelings was as different from that of the priests and\nscribes, as though he had been an angel descended from heaven,\u2014full of\nlove and wisdom, without creed, without doctrine, without forms, without\nceremonies,\u2014to mock with his sublime perfection the puny ritualist who\nimagined no religion possible without them all.\n\nThe young prophet seemed to enjoy these semi-annual disturbances of his\nthoughtful solitude. He always accompanied us on our return as far as the\ngreat highway. He was so fully convinced that he was driven into the\nwilderness by the Spirit of God, that we did not strive to allure him back\nto the haunts of men. I regarded him as a gentle and amiable fanatic.\nMartha pronounced him to be a young man of great promise, destined no\ndoubt to be a prophet or leader in the Church. Mary\u2019s criticism was\nlimited to noting the extraordinary sweetness of his voice and the\nsoftness of his hazel eyes. Once also a tear trickled down her cheeks,\nwhen we spoke of his lonely days and nights in his self-inflicted\nsolitude.\n\nIt was in the third year after Beltrezzor\u2019s return, that, on approaching\nthe cave of the hermit we saw a poor, emaciated creature, the skeleton,\nthe shadow, of a man, seated on the stone at its mouth. It was long before\nwe could recognize in this pitiable object, my generous deliverer, the Son\nof the Desert. On feeling the premonitory symptoms of a dangerous fever,\nhe had left his band, which was then prowling about the Jordan, and had\ncome to the cave of the young hermit.\n\n\u201cYou nursed my wounded friend. Take care also of me. I am sick in soul and\nbody. You are the only good man in the world. You alone make me believe in\nGod.\u201d\n\nThese were the words with which he threw himself down upon the pallet of\nskins. Long weeks of illness had passed away\u2014and he was restored, standing\nnow on the border of life like a phantom flitting from the tomb. His\ngreat, sad, earnest eyes seemed to say that he neither cared to live nor\nwas afraid to die.\n\nWe took a deep interest in this forlorn robber, who seemed to act, think\nand feel so little like a robber. This proud, handsome man, without name,\nwithout friends, was an enigma to us. He had sternly declined all reward\nfor his eminent services to us, and we felt under painful obligations to\nhim. When we bade him adieu with ardent wishes for his speedy restoration,\nMartha, with great dignity and self-possession, took a ring from her\nfinger and deliberately placed it upon his.\n\n\u201cDo not forget us,\u201d said she. \u201cOur fates may part us, but the invisible\nbinds. On this ring is engraven the name of an angel. I give you my\nguardian-spirit as your own. May he lead you into peace.\u201d\n\nHe bowed his head low upon her hand; and when he raised it, there were\ntears in his eyes.\n\nI noticed after a while that these visits to the desert had a singular\neffect upon Mary. For some time preceding them, there was an exhilaration\nof spirits, a flush of expectation, a vivacity of manner, which added a\nnew lustre to her charms, a new glow to her beauty. During the visit,\nhowever, she was timid, reticent and abstracted: and afterward for weeks\nthere was an unusual quietness of demeanor, as well as a tearfulness of\nthe eye and a pallor of the cheek.\n\n\u201cLazarus,\u201d said Martha to me one day, \u201chad we not better bring our\nfather\u2019s remains to Bethany and bury them with our mother\u2019s? It would\nspare us these long trips to the desert.\u201d\n\nKeen-sighted, motherly sister! But I\u2014who had not then met with Helena and\nknew nothing of love\u2014I answered:\n\n\u201cOh no! these visits to John are the most delightful events of the year.\u201d\n\nOn the fourth spring of these visits Mary took down a little flower-pot\nwith a rose in it for John.\n\n\u201cI bring you a gem,\u201d said she, \u201cof nature\u2019s light\u2014a lamp, a star, to\nillumine the darkness of the desert.\u201d\n\nThat evening when returning, Mary and John fell behind the rest of us, and\nwhen I turned to look after them, he was pointing out to her some rare\nbeauty of the clouds about the setting sun; and her face, turned full upon\nhim, was all aglow with a radiance not reflected from terrestrial skies.\n\nThe fall visit was looked forward to with unusual pleasure. It was a\nglorious day. Why was it that the desert seemed more solitary than usual?\nAs we approached the cavern, the silence was appalling. There were no\nrecent footprints on the sands. The spiders had spun their webs across the\nmouth of the cave. It was utterly deserted. John had gone. He had taken\naway his pallet of skins, his earthen vessels for food and drink, his\nsandals, his long staff. The flower-pot lay upon the ground with the\nlittle rose-bush in it, long withered and dead.\n\nThe sisters burst into tears; and Martha kissed the little one most\ntenderly on the cheek.\n\nThe Spirit of God, which impels men to the great missions of the world,\ndrives them away from the bloom of nature and from the gardens of the\nsoul,\u2014away into the wilderness, where, tempted of devils and sustained by\nangels, they gather strength for the doom and glory which await them!\n\nOur father\u2019s remains were brought to Bethany. Mary\u2019s cheek grew paler. The\ndew of tenderness trembled always in her eye. She searched the Scriptures\nall day long for the coming Messiah. At night she dreamed\u2014\n\nAh! what?\n\nOf the withered rose-leaves in the deserted cavern.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   IX.\n\n\n                               _SACRIFICE._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nMy uncle summoned me one day into his presence, and told me that he wished\nme to enlarge my education by travel.\n\n\u201cYou must visit Egypt, Greece and Italy,\u201d said he, \u201cthe typical centres of\nthe world, and converse with the master-spirits in art, science and\nphilosophy. I have made arrangements to keep you amply supplied with money\nat Alexandria, Athens and Rome, and with letters to agreeable and\ninfluential people.\n\n\u201cThis will consume three years of your life; and if you are wise and\nprudent, they will be pleasantly and profitably spent. When you return I\nwill surrender your father\u2019s estate into your hands, and make a handsome\nsettlement upon your sisters from my own means. I am growing old and shall\nneed but little for the rest of my pilgrimage.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d he continued to my surprise and sorrow, \u201cthen I shall go back to\nthe great East\u2014nearer to the sun\u2014to die.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo back to the East?\u201d I exclaimed with trepidation. \u201cWhy so? Your old age\nrequires the presence of loving friends and relatives. What can we\u2014made\nyour children by your kindness\u2014what can we do without you?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! my child, the grass soon grows in the footprints of man. We are\neasily forgotten. I shall be loved like one dead. I am weary of this\nJudean air; of this corrupt and discordant society; of these Roman\ntrumpets and banners. I want peace and repose. I long to see once more the\nsacred fire burning upon the altars. After twenty years of life in Persia,\none cannot be satisfied with the Mosaic sacrifices and the olive groves of\nBethany.\u201d\n\nKnowing my uncle\u2019s firmness of resolution, and how long he had restrained\nhis natural restlessness for our benefit, I hung my head in mournful\nsilence.\n\n\u201cWell, well!\u201d said he in a cheerful voice, \u201cwe have time enough to talk\nabout the whole matter. Get ready now for the scenes which fill the heart\nof a thinking man with supreme delight.\u201d\n\nThis plan of perfecting my education by travel, by coming in contact with\nidolatrous people and studying heathen philosophies, excited the fears of\nmy good sisters, so contrary was it to the custom of the Jews. They\nregarded it, indeed, as almost a crime. My uncle, however, was grandly\ncosmopolitan in all his sentiments, and he had imbued my own mind with his\nenlightened charity.\n\nEthopus accompanied me as my body-servant. We had taught the dumb African\nto read and write after he was released from the bondage of Magistus and\nSimon. He acquired these accomplishments in a moderate degree with great\ncelerity, so that our anticipations of rapid mental progress were sadly\ndisappointed by the result. When he reached the intellectual development\nof a white child at twelve years, his onward march was arrested. No study,\nno assiduity could advance him a step farther. He was organically a child.\nHis thoughts, his feelings, his opinions, his manners were all child-like;\nand so they remained.\n\nSuch is the general result of my observation and study of the African\nspecies. Susceptible as they are of a beautiful and indefinite moral\nculture, the development of their intellectual faculties is limited by the\nthick scull, the small brain, the black skin which they have inherited as\na national curse. May it be different in the future! I have received\nnothing but kindness at their hands, and I feel nothing but kindness for\nthem in my heart.\n\nWe learned from Ethopus, through the medium of writing, that he had been\nstolen by a party of marauding soldiers from his quiet and happy home in\nAbyssinia, where his father was a petty prince. He had been sold to some\nmagicians in Egypt, who made him a slave, a football, a victim of cruel\nand unnatural experiments. He had been fed upon toads and serpents and\ncreeping things. The blood of various animals had been injected into his\nveins. The operation of poisons was studied upon his body. Degradation and\nterror were imprinted upon his soul. He had been deprived of his manhood\nand his speech, to bring him into total subjection to his diabolical\ntyrants.\n\nWhen I told him that I should go first into Egypt, he trembled; for the\nmemory of Simon and his own early life troubled his mind. I could scarcely\nhave induced him to accompany me at all, had it not been for the beautiful\ngem which my uncle Beltrezzor had given him. In its prophylactic powers\nagainst magic and magicians he enjoyed implicit faith. He had hitherto\ncarried it always in his pocket. He now bound it over his heart, carefully\nsecured in a leathern bag. He then declared himself ready for the journey.\nLess fortunate than he, I had nothing wherewith to fortify myself against\nevil spirits and the dangers of land and sea, but the consolations of\nZoroaster\u2019s religion and scraps of the Platonic philosophy.\n\nI had only one misgiving on leaving my sisters in the care of such an old\nman as our excellent uncle. The wicked Magistus was still living in the\nsame house, separated from us only by a stone wall. He guarded my aunt in\nthe same cruel seclusion, and no doubt kept himself informed by her\nclairvoyant powers of everything going on in our house as well as in\nothers. He had never made any advances toward us, and there was no\ncommunication between us. I knew, however, that a fierce desire for\nrevenge rankled in his heart; and his power was now greater than ever,\nsince he had become a prominent member of the Sanhedrim, and his friend\nCaiaphas had been appointed high-priest of the temple.\n\nI spent about a year in exploring the wonders of Egypt, and had reached\nAlexandria for a reluctant departure from that land of fascinations, when\na letter was delivered at my door by some one who disappeared as soon as\nhe gave it to the servant. This occasioned me some surprise, and I opened\nit immediately. On a little piece of parchment which fell out as I did so,\nI found these words:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cThe original bearer of this letter was killed in a skirmish with our\ntroop. I find it contains something which you will be interested to know.\nI therefore transmit it to you at some risk. Do not forget the\nunforgetting\n\n                                                      \u201cSON OF THE DESERT.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe epistle was from my sister Martha. It ran as follows:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cA wonderful thing has occurred, my dear brother, since I last wrote.\nJohn, the young hermit of the desert, whom we have mourned as lost or\ndead, has appeared on the banks of the Jordan, baptizing the multitudes\nand preaching repentance and the remission of sins. He claims to be the\nforerunner of the Messiah, announcing the speedy approach of the King of\nkings. Crowds are flocking to him from all Judea and Galilee, and even\nfrom distant regions. His eloquence is so astonishing that many who go out\nof curiosity or sport, are stricken to the heart and receive his baptism.\n\n\u201cMary and I have listened to the preaching of this inspired friend, and\nare convinced of its truth and power. We have been baptized also,\nconfessing our sins, and vowing a life of repentance and good works. I\nassure you, my dear brother! when the prophet laid his hand on our heads,\nblessing us in the name of the Messiah, our minds were filled with a\nheavenly ecstasy, and we could scarcely refrain from shouting aloud for\njoy.\n\n\u201cWhen I came up out of the water, the first face I saw was that of our\nstrange friend who calls himself the Son of the Desert. He was standing\nwith many others on the bank near the prophet, and gazing earnestly at his\nseraphic countenance. When his eyes met mine, he looked down as softly as\na young girl, and quickly withdrew from the crowd.\n\n\u201cMy heart warms toward this poor, outcast stranger, who befriended you so\nnobly, and who leads, I fear, such an evil life. Is it not strange that\nthe noble instincts, which he certainly possesses, do not cause him to\nrevolt against his base surroundings? His name is continually in my\nprayers. Oh that he also would be baptized of John, forsake the troublous\nways of the world, and receive the sweet delicious peace of the new life!\n\n\u201cMary is so happy again! A new rose has come to her cheek, a new buoyancy\nto her step, a new beauty to her smile.\n\n\u201cOur good uncle accompanied us to the Jordan, although he despises crowds\nand excitements. His criticism on the preaching and baptism of John shows\nhow thoroughly pagan are all his conceptions. He said he was a young man\nof splendid enthusiasm, who would have been a disciple of Zoroaster if he\nhad studied the philosophy of fire instead of that of water.\n\n\u201cPerhaps the shining of this new star will guide you sooner home to our\neyes and hearts. You linger in that old, frightful, sand-beleagured\nmagic-stricken Egypt, when this herald of the Messiah, Aurora prophesying\nthe sun, is filling Judea with Divine light! Hasten with love, soon, very\nsoon, to your loving sisters.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI was still meditating on this letter when Ethopus rushed into my chamber\nwith a face full of alarm. I soon learned from his expressive pantomime\nthat he had seen Simon Magus in one of the public squares, exhibiting some\nmagical tricks to a great crowd.\n\n\u201cDid he recognize you?\u201d said I, anxiously.\n\nThe African shook his head hopefully.\n\n\u201cThen we will take ship for Athens to-morrow. Get everything ready for the\nvoyage.\u201d\n\nEthopus seemed delighted at these words, and proceeded with the greatest\nalacrity to execute my orders; not, however, until he had so disguised\nhimself that I positively did not know him when he appeared before me. He\nwas then so long absent on my errands that I became apprehensive for his\nsafety. He suddenly entered the room with an expression of countenance\nwhich puzzled my practiced wit to decipher. It was the wildest joy\nstrangely mingled with sadness. He found it impossible to convey his ideas\nby pantomime. The scene was ludicrous as well as pathetic. After several\nfrantic and fruitless efforts, he seized a burnt coal from the hearth and\nscribbled on the white wall in great sprawling characters:\n\n  \u201cI HAVE FOUND MY BROTHER!\u201d\n\nand making signs for me to follow him, he darted from the room.\n\nWe passed rapidly through the streets, Ethopus looking suspiciously about\nhim all the while, until we reached a grand bazaar, where thousands of\narticles were exposed for sale. We forced our way through crowds of\nmerchants, each crying his wares; through buyers and sellers and idlers of\nevery description, chattering and chaffering in all the languages of the\nworld. We came presently to some little rooms or stalls where a great many\nslaves on sale were exposed, almost naked. Ethopus pointed triumphantly to\na tall young African of handsome and even noble features, and falling upon\nhis neck, they wept together.\n\n\u201cThey are brothers,\u201d said the trader. \u201cTheir meeting was both amusing and\naffecting. This dumb fellow recognized the other first, and fell upon his\nface, shoulders and hands with frantic kisses. The younger one, not\ncomprehending such a useless outburst of affection, resented it as an\nintrusion, and would have belabored his brother soundly, had he not been\nso heavily ironed. The older one was in despair, but suddenly bethought\nhimself of taking off a lot of false hair and beard, and baring his neck\nand bosom for inspection. The recognition was then soon effected, and they\nlaughed and wept alternately in each other\u2019s arms.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a slave?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014and a most unruly one. He was captured in the late war with the\nAbyssinians, and although very young, they say he was a superb soldier. I\ncan well believe it. He has already passed through several hands, and was\nquickly got rid of by them all, on account of his fierce and dangerous\ncharacter.\u201d\n\nI studied the young man\u2019s physiognomy carefully, but could discover no\ntrace of ferocity about the features. He seemed to be about twenty years\nof age, and had a manly and dignified bearing as he stood there manacled\nand exposed to the public gaze. I read his secret at once. He was a brave\nand high-spirited youth, accustomed to freedom, war, and perhaps to the\nexercise of power; and he did not submit to his chains as quietly as his\nowners desired.\n\nThe slave-dealer must have divined the admiration with which I regarded\nhim, for he added with a quiet sneer:\n\n\u201cHis braveries are at an end now, for he has been bought for Drusus\nHortensius.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Hortensius?\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you lived in the desert, that you never heard of Hortensius?\nHortensius is the richest man in the world at present, and the greatest\nepicure in Rome. He imitates Lucullus, at least in pride and luxury. He\nmakes suppers for his friends, of incalculable magnificence. His demand\nfor nightingales\u2019 tongues has silenced half the bird-music in the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs Hortensius in the city?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the city? No! He lives in Rome, which, he complains, is altogether too\nsmall for him. He has an agent in Alexandria, who has a standing order to\nsend him about fifty refractory and incorrigible slaves every year.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat does he want them for?\u201d\n\n\u201cWant them for?\u201d laughed the dealer. \u201cWell, you must know that Hortensius\nhas the greatest and rarest fish-ponds in the world. They are miracles of\nbeauty. Hortensius is fond of fish as well as of nightingales\u2019 tongues.\nBut common fish do not tempt his august appetite. Lucullus discovered, in\nthe course of his epicurean studies, that fish fed upon human flesh have a\nremarkably fine flavor; and moreover that these aquatic cannibals have a\nspecial relish for the African species of the genus homo.\u201d\n\n\u201cWretch!\u201d I muttered.\n\n\u201cTherefore,\u201d continued the trader, without noticing my indignation,\n\u201cHortensius, imitating Lucullus, has a negro slave cut into small pieces\nand thrown into his fish-ponds every week. His children are taken out by\ntheir nurses to witness this choice method of refining the pleasures of\nthe table.\u201d\n\nAnthony, for so they had re-named the brother of Ethopus, had picked up a\ngood deal of Latin, in which language the dealer was speaking. He had\nlistened intently and had caught the horrible meaning of his words. The\ndisdainful and defiant look of the young soldier, contemplating the fate\nwhich awaited him, was a study for an artist.\n\n\u201cHow can I save him from this cruel bondage, from this hideous death?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was purchased yesterday and will be called for to-day, as the ship\nsails this evening.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you cancel that bargain and sell him to me?\u201d said I eagerly.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014for a grand consideration.\u201d\n\nI reflected that I had drawn my last funds from my uncle\u2019s Egyptian agent.\nStill, I might possibly borrow largely from him and wait a remittance. I\nnamed what I considered a liberal price. The trader coldly shook his head.\nI added a third more to it, determined to sacrifice a year\u2019s travel in\norder to save Anthony from the fish-ponds of the luxurious Roman. The\ntrader declined without hesitation. I could make no greater offer without\nconsultation with my uncle, and that was impossible. My countenance fell\nin despair.\n\nThe brothers had watched our conversation with intense interest; and\nalthough they did not comprehend its full meaning, they saw that I had\nmade a great effort to redeem Anthony and had failed. The face of Ethopus\nwas full of grief, that of Anthony of sad resignation. Ethopus suddenly\nsprang up smiling, as if some great idea had illumined his mind. He tore\nopen his robe, and producing a little bag from his bosom, he took out the\nprecious stone which my uncle Beltrezzor had given him. He extended the\nbrilliant gem to the trader with one hand and pointed to Anthony with the\nother.\n\n\u201cOh do not take that,\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cThis poor fellow values that stone\nmore than life itself. Nothing but the most intense affection could prompt\nhim to such a sacrifice. He believes that stone has delivered him from the\nbondage of a terrible magician, and wears it over his heart as a\nprotecting genius. Accept my offer instead, which is of greater money\nvalue than his gem.\u201d\n\nThis speech had a singular effect. The slave-dealer had no generosity, but\nboundless superstition. He either had an intense fear of magic himself, or\nhe was in collusion with magicians. He immediately acceded to Ethopus\u2019\noffer, struck the chains from Anthony\u2019s arms and feet, and put the price\nof his slave smilingly into his pocket.\n\n\u201cI will replace him with that old fellow there, who would smoke his pipe\nas he is now doing if we were burying him alive. The agent of Hortensius\ncounts heads and never looks into faces.\u201d\n\nAnthony comprehended that an exorbitant price had been paid for his\nliberty, involving some great sacrifice on the part of Ethopus and he\ninsisted on resuming his fetters, until I assured them both that the stone\nwith such magical properties should be replaced by one similar, as soon as\nI could communicate with Beltrezzor.\n\nEthopus was now in a state of feverish anxiety to get aboard the Athenian\nvessel. The addition of Anthony to our company seemed to increase his\nfears and his sense of responsibility. I conveyed my baggage and my two\nservants to the ship, and put them in charge of the captain, while I\nreturned into the city to finish my business and to make a few purchases.\n\nWhen I reached the vessel again, Ethopus had disappeared! Anthony was in\ngreat distress, and the captain and sailors were highly excited. The story\nthey told was a curious one. A tall, wild-looking man, fantastically\ndressed, came and sat down on the shore near the planks of the ship.\nBusily engaged in carrying on the small freight which crowds in just\nbefore a vessel leaves, the sailors paid no attention to him.\n\nThis man was heard to make some very curious sounds, a kind of double\nwhistle, a signal which he repeated at intervals with increasing vehemence\nand impatience. Ethopus then came slowly out of the vessel, reeling and\ngroping like one blind or drunk. He advanced slowly toward the stranger\nand knelt at his feet. The poor fellow suddenly started up with a great\nshriek and endeavored to escape. Several of the sailors rushed forward to\nrescue him from the man who had seized him and was dragging him off. The\nmagician, for such he was, drew a huge yellow serpent from his robe, and\nflourished it like a whip at his assailants. Some of the sailors declared\nalso that a jet of blue flame darted from his bosom. Certain it is that by\nsome magical trick he so terrified them that they fell back in awe, and he\nescaped with his victim through the crowd which was gathering.\n\nPoor Anthony, who had never seen a ship before, was walking about the\nvessel in childlike wonder while this terrible abduction was taking place.\nI was in the deepest distress. I took Anthony and the baggage back to my\nquarters. I remained a fortnight in Alexandria instituting the most\nthorough search after our lost friend. It was all in vain. I sailed at\nlast for Athens with a heavy, heavy heart, and a new servant, leaving the\npoor dumb eunuch in the clutches of Simon Magus.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                    X.\n\n\n                               _AT ATHENS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI lived at Athens a year, studying the philosophy and poetry of the\nGreeks. I longed to see my beautiful sisters and my good old uncle; but I\ncannot disguise the fact that I was greatly fascinated with Grecian life\nand manners. I frequently wished that I had been born a Greek and not a\nJew, and that I could spend my days in sight of the marble-crowned\nAcropolis and the blue \u00c6gean Sea.\n\nI taught Anthony to read and write, hoping that he would prove to be of\nsuperior mental calibre to his brother. But the result was the same. He\nsurprised me at first by his brightness and afterward by his stupidity. He\nwas more impetuous than Ethopus, and braver; but then his spirit had not\nbeen broken and subdued by contact with the magicians of Egypt, those\nsubterranean devils who defied the assaults of reason against their\npretensions and the vigilance of government against their crimes. Ceasing\nto be a good soldier and incapable of becoming a philosopher, he proved an\ninvaluable servant.\n\nThe letters from my sisters, who wrote alternately, were full of\ntenderness and piety. They continued to give glowing accounts of the power\nand progress of the teaching of John the Baptist. Martha quoted all the\npassages in the prophets alluding to the forerunner of the Messiah, and\nMary dwelt upon the influence of his doctrines and baptism upon the hearts\nand lives of the people. Mary perceived intuitively that the only valuable\nthing in a religion is the life which it induces one to lead. One day I\nreceived a letter from this enthusiastic young girl, which indicated that\nsome great spiritual ferment was working in the land of Judea:\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\u201cDEAREST LAZARUS:\n\n\u201cThe hunger and thirst of our souls will soon be satisfied. I have seen\nhim with my own eyes\u2014him, the Son of God, the Messiah. Oh what grace! what\nwisdom! what goodness! what power!\n\n\u201cDo not think I am dreaming! Some time ago John baptized a young man, whom\nhe pronounced by heavenly vision to be the Messiah, or as he styled him,\nthe Lamb of God. This mysterious person disappeared from sight. It was\nrumored that he had retired into the wilderness, to undergo some terrible\ncombat with the powers of hell, preparatory to his great mission upon\nearth. Our hearts have been watching eagerly for his reappearance.\n\n\u201cAfter a while we heard that a great prophet had arisen in Galilee, who\nhad astonished all men by the wonderful spirituality of his preaching. He\nhad also exhibited miraculous power by turning water into wine at a\nmarriage-feast in Cana. Perhaps this Jesus of Nazareth was the promised\ndeliverer! But how could the ignoble names of Nazareth and Galilee be\nconnected with the Prince of the house of David?\n\n\u201cNot long afterward a strange incident occurred in the temple. The\nmiracle-worker of Cana appeared, and assuming extraordinary authority, as\nif the temple were his own house, he drove out all the traders and\nmoney-changers and idlers who have so long desecrated the holy place by\nthe connivance of the corrupt and wicked priests. They would no doubt have\ndestroyed him in their anger; but the people, and indeed the better class\nof Pharisees also, applauded the courageous act of the man, who dared,\nsingle-handed, to vindicate the holiness of the Lord\u2019s house, and to\nscourge the profaners out of the sacred precincts.\n\n\u201cI was pondering over this incident, when our good and kind friend\nNicodemus came in, and told us he had witnessed the scene himself, and\nthat this Jesus of Nazareth was the same person whom he saw baptized by\nJohn in Jordan, at the time when John bare witness that he saw the Spirit\nof God descending upon him in the shape of a dove.\n\n\u201cWas not this cleansing of the temple prophetic of his spiritual cleansing\nof the Church, as well as of the purification of those little temples and\nchurches, our own hearts?\n\n\u201cThe good Nicodemus, who inquires into everything quickly, but into\nnothing thoroughly, paid Jesus a visit at night and drew him into\nconversation. He was astonished and puzzled at the new ideas of this\nspiritual teacher. Now, my dear brother, do not laugh at me when I assure\nyou, that what seemed so unintelligible to a learned ruler in Israel, was\na sun-burst of truth and beauty to the heart of your poor little sister\nMary.\n\n\u201cHow strange it is that I can see clearly what seems hidden from the eyes\nof those so much more capable than myself!\n\n\u201cJesus said to Nicodemus:\n\n\u201c\u2018Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.\u2019\n\n\u201cHow stupid it was in the good old doctor to stumble at this sublime\nsentence, and to ask:\n\n\u201c\u2018How can a man be born again when he is old?\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the reply of Jesus, how beautiful!\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018Verily I say unto you, Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit,\nhe cannot enter into the kingdom of God.\n\n\u201c\u2018That which is born of the flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the\nSpirit is spirit.\u2019\n\n\u201cI understand it, Lazarus; I see, feel, know, comprehend the whole\nmystery. It may be the flower comprehends the sun better than the\nphilosopher.\n\n\u201cWe were born of water through the baptism of John. By the repentance and\nobedience taught by him, we are washed of the uncleanness and sensuality\nof our old life and enter upon the sweetness and purity of the new. Jesus\nwill baptize us with the Spirit of divine love, as John did with the\nspirit of divine truth; and we shall be new creatures, born again as it\nwere, into a spiritual kingdom of light and peace.\n\n\u201cThe Sabbath after my interview with Nicodemus, I started with Martha to\nthe temple, hoping to see Jesus with my own eyes. And I saw him, Lazarus,\nnot only with my eyes, but with my heart and soul. We had reached the pool\nof Bethesda by the sheep-market, and were looking at the crowd of feeble\nand paralytic people, who were waiting for the periodical moving of the\nwater, when a murmur arose: \u2018The prophet, the prophet of Nazareth!\u2019 I\nlooked and saw Jesus standing in one of the porches on the first step that\nleads down into the water.\n\n\u201cThe moment I saw his face I believed. My heart beat audibly within me. A\ndivine ardor burned in my soul. A faith, strong as the mountains or the\nocean, took possession of my whole being. My impulse was to rush forward,\nfall at his feet and proclaim him the Messiah to the assembled multitude.\nMartha held me back and said: \u2018Listen! he speaks!\u2019\n\n\u201cYes\u2014he spoke; and I heard that voice I had so often heard in my dreams,\ndreaming of the restoration of Israel!\n\n\u201cHe spoke to the oldest, the feeblest, the most forlorn-looking person in\nthe crowd:\n\n\u201c\u2018Wilt thou be made whole?\u2019 he said, in a voice of infinite tenderness and\nbeauty.\n\n\u201cStrangely enough, before the sick man answered, the same question entered\ninto my own soul. I felt a deadly, paralytic sensation throughout my\nspiritual frame, and I knew that I needed to be made whole even more than\nthe poor creature on the steps. The Divine question was put to the sick\nman, to me, to the Church, to the whole world. It was infinite. While I\nwas ejaculating internally, \u2018Yes, Lord! yes! entirely whole,\u2019 the\nparalytic replied:\n\n\u201c\u2018I have no one, sir, when the water is troubled to put me into the pool,\nbut while I am coming, another steppeth down before me.\u2019\n\n\u201cPoor, old, helpless, friendless creature! Others had relatives or friends\nwho assisted them to descend into the restorative waters; and day after\nday the selfish ones had pushed aside the weak, slow, pallid wretch. But\nthe great Friend had come!\n\n\u201cJesus, stretching forth his hand over the prostrate form, with a majesty\nindescribable, exclaimed:\n\n\u201c\u2018Rise, take up thy bed and walk.\u2019\n\n\u201cAnd the paralytic arose amid the exclamations and plaudits of the crowd,\nwhich pressed about them until he and Jesus were concealed from our sight.\n\n\u201cI have seen the Messiah several times since that miracle. He was walking\nthe streets with several fishermen of Galilee, whom they say he has chosen\nto be his apostles. The greatest takes up the least to connect all the\nintermediates with himself. The group is always followed at a distance by\na woman clad in deep mourning, and wearing a thick black veil. She never\napproaches near enough to speak or be spoken to. No man knows where she\nlodges or how she lives; but the first dawn of light always reveals her\ndark figure opposite the house in which Jesus has slept.\n\n\u201cWho can she be? says every one to himself and to others. Whoever she is,\nher humility and devotion are very touching; and the Power which can work\nmiracles no doubt reads her heart and is leading her to himself.\n\n\u201cMartha is profoundly impressed and greatly bewildered by the miracles and\ncharacter of Jesus; but she cannot yet believe that he is the veritable\nMessiah predicted by the prophets. She thinks the Messiah must be a great\nPrince, who will restore the power of David and the glory of Solomon to\nthe Jewish nation, and make our temple the temple of the whole world. Our\nhearts, I think, our purified hearts, are the temples in which he is to\nreign!\n\n\u201cOur dear, good, pagan uncle smiles quietly at my enthusiastic faith, and\nencourages Martha\u2019s doubts by telling us of great and good magi in Persia,\nwho performed greater miracles than those of Moses.\n\n\u201cAh, Lazarus! How can you linger away off in those beautiful and wicked\ncities of Greece, buried in spiritual darkness, and studying their foolish\nor insane philosophies, when the Source of all light has risen, and the\nFountain of all truth has been opened in your own country! Oh hasten to\nyour home in our hearts and see these great things for yourself. If you\ncannot share my faith, you will at least receive and reciprocate my love.\n\n                                                \u201cEver your          MARY.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIf these strange things had occurred soon after my father\u2019s death, when\nthe spirit of religious inquiry was strong, and when I loved to search the\nScriptures with my sisters, I would have been deeply, intensely interested\nin them. But the hardest thing in the world is to make a devotee out of a\nman who thinks himself a philosopher.\n\nMy uncle had not converted me to the doctrines of Zoroaster, but he had\nconvinced me that Zoroaster, Moses, and all the great leaders of religious\nthought derived their inspiration from the same source. I came tacitly to\nbelieve that no special Messiah was coming to the Jews, any more than to\nthe Persians or Egyptians or Romans, all of whom needed deliverance from\nmountains of sin and wildernesses of error, quite as much as the Hebrew\nnation which constituted so small a fraction of the human race.\n\nMoreover the influence of travel, and especially my free and happy life at\nAthens, had quite denationalized me. I was no longer a Jew.\n\nI had breathed the mystic and magical air of Egypt, and had peeped into\none of the very cradles of the human race; where I found everything so\nstrange and so unlike what I had been taught by our childish Hebrew\ntraditions.\n\nI had trodden all the glorious and beautiful grounds hallowed in the\nimmortal history and songs of Greece. I no longer wondered at the host of\ngods and goddesses which were conjured from the misty deeps of antiquity,\nto guard a nature so prolific and fair, and a people so perfect in form\nand so gifted in spirit.\n\nThe traditions of Greece, the poetry, the eloquence, the music, the\nphilosophy, the art, and the divine architecture, which seemed a\ncombination of them all, had so impressed and transformed my mind, that I\nlooked back to my narrow circle of life and thought in Judea, as a man\nlooks back upon the school-room and play-ground of his childhood.\n\nAfter these things, it was impossible for me to believe that the Jews were\nthe favored people of God, and that the descendants of the patriarchs were\nto govern the world. It was as easy to believe that the sun rose in\nJericho and set in Joppa.\n\nTherefore I smiled at my sister\u2019s pious enthusiasm, and said to myself:\n\nThis Jesus of Nazareth is some estimable Jew, full of philanthropy and\nzeal, possessed perhaps of extraordinary healing powers. With these he\nwill so astonish the poor ignorant Hebrews, that they will call him a\nprophet of God, or even invest him with divine honors. In Athens he would\nbe simply a philosopher or a physician, more or less profound and\nbrilliant. His pretensions would be scrutinized by a thinking public, and\nhe would receive applause in proportion to his merit and capacity.\n\nThere was, I must confess, another reason why I did not turn my face\ntoward Judea; why the prophecies and their fulfillment had ceased to\ninterest me; and why even my charming sisters were occasionally forgotten.\nWhile studying the theologies of the nations and poring over the ethereal\npantheism of Greece, I met that wonderful divinity who flies ever with his\ngolden shafts between the earth and the sun, and I became the devotee of a\nnew religion.\n\nI had seen the most beautiful, the most wonderful woman in the world, and\u2014\n\nAnd what?\n\nI loved!\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XI.\n\n\n                                _HELENA._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nIn the school of philosophy where the doctrines of Socrates and Plato were\ntaught with an eloquence equal to their own, I met a young Greek resident\nof the city by the name of Demetrius. He was the son of Calisthenes, a\nvery wealthy merchant, who, contrary to the usual custom, attempted to\nrival in his private residence the magnificent art which was bestowed only\non the public works. He was ambitious that his only son should enjoy more\nthan mercantile honors, and arrive at greater distinction than that which\nwealth alone could bestow.\n\nAs usual in such cases, his paternal aspirations were doomed to\ndisappointment. Nine-tenths of the genius of the world comes from that\ngreat middle class which knows neither riches nor poverty. The possession\nof great wealth is generally a hinderance to intellectual or spiritual\nadvancement. Demetrius was a handsome, amiable fellow, of mediocre talent,\nslothful by nature and indulgence, and more ambitious of social success\nthan of a front place in the class of philosophy.\n\nI know not how it happened, but he had attached himself more strongly to\nme than I to him. I attained the entr\u00e9e of his father\u2019s house by a lucky\naccident. While we were rowing in the harbor one day, our little vessel\nwas capsized, and it was only by my desperate exertions in his behalf that\nDemetrius was saved from drowning. Gratitude did more for the deliverer\nthan friendship had done for the fellow-student: it opened the doors of\nthe princely mansion, and showed me the household gods.\n\nI was rejoiced at this, for I had heard one of my companions say:\n\n\u201cHelena, the sister of Demetrius, is the most wonderful creature in the\nworld.\u201d\n\nI verified the truth of his remark. It was indeed the echo of the popular\nlip. Helena was an institution of Athens, sought, seen and admired like\nits other wonders and beauties. No language can convey any adequate\ndescription of this cunning masterpiece of nature. There was no statue in\nall the rich collections of Grecian art, which excelled the matchless\nsymmetry of her form or the perfect beauty of her features. She was the\npoet\u2019s dream of perfection, embodied in the delicate tissues of a splendid\nwomanhood.\n\nA neck and bust of immaculate beauty were surmounted by a head, every\nattitude of which was a study for artists and lovers. Her hair was a cloud\nof dark, brown waves faintly dashed with gold. Her broad imperial brow was\npure as the silver surface of some cloudless dawn. Her soft, hazel eyes\nwere radiant centres of inexpressible light and power. Her cheeks, nose,\nmouth and chin were miracles of shape, warmth and color. Her shell-tinted\nears were hung with pearls less beautiful than themselves; and a necklace\nof golden beads made conspicuous a throat which it could not beautify. Her\nhands and fingers were so lucid, delicate and expressive, that they might\nbe called features also, revealing in part the movements of her mind.\n\nPoor artist that I am, I throw my pencil down in disgust. I cannot\nreproduce Helena to your eyes as she appeared to me.\n\nTo see this woman, for a young enthusiastic spirit, with his celestial\ndream pressing downward for realization, was to love her. The shaft of\nlove flies from one eye to another; from the eye to the heart; from the\nheart to the brain; from the brain to the soul. I looked, I loved. I was\nsmitten to the soul by that malady which has no cure but the cause which\ninflicts it.\n\nHelena had not only an irresistible sweetness of voice and grace of\nmanner, but she had a singular directness of attack, concentrating all her\ncharms upon you at once; so that few men ever left her presence without\nfeeling that she had absorbed and taken from them some portion of their\nlife, which they could only recover by returning into the enchanted\natmosphere which surrounded her beautiful person.\n\nThus bewildered by her beauty and bewitched by her fascinations, I lost my\nlife when away from her, and found it again, enhanced and glorified, when\nI approached her footstool. I was attracted to her continually; and if I\ntore myself away, and climbed the mountain-top, or walked by the\nsea-shore, she became the inspiring genius of my solitary rambles; and the\nbeauties of nature were only beautiful, because in some inexplicable\nmanner they seemed akin to, or associated with her.\n\nThus, day after day, week after week passed by, and philosophy became as\ndry as dust, and my companions silly and unprofitable; and Egypt became a\nmyth and Judea a dream; while the past was forgotten and the future\nuncared for, except in connection with her. Solitude became sweet, and\nreverie ecstatic, and the language of poetry the voice of common life. I\ncreated for myself an ideal world, romantic, ethereal, felicitous; for the\ngreatest magician that ever lived is Love.\n\nI was sometimes, however, sunk into the fathomless abyss of despair. I met\nin the splendid halls of Calisthenes so many distinguished and wealthy and\npowerful men; so many soldiers and statesmen; so many philosophers,\nartists and poets; all many degrees superior to myself, and all paying the\nsame homage to the idol I worshiped, that my envy and jealousy were being\ncontinually excited; and I frequently shrank within myself, taciturn and\nmelancholy, contemplating the awful distance which intervened between my\nfeeble pretensions and the transcendent object of my admiration.\n\nThen Helena, observing my silence and grief, would single me out from the\ncrowd with a peculiar sweetness; would bestow a smile which seemed meant\nonly for me; would drop a sentence of pearl which I felt that I alone\ncomprehended; would solicit my early return in a manner so special and\nimpressive, that I was fired with new hope and endowed with new life;\nspurned the dull earth beneath me, and was ready, like the daring boy of\nApollo, to drive the chariot of the sun.\n\n\u201cLet no one ever despair,\u201d I would thus fondly say to myself, \u201cof\nconquering a woman by love. Concentrate the passion of your soul upon her,\nlike the rays of a burning glass, and sooner or later, you will melt her\nheart. The best philter to excite love is love itself. If you would\nignite, you must burn.\u201d\n\nWith all this magnificent exterior, with the blended adornments of nature\nand art, this Helena was altogether unworthy of the pure and simple love I\nlavished upon her. She studied men as the angler studies the character,\nhabits and locality of fish; solely to allure and capture them. She had\nthe thoughtful brow and the words of wisdom for one class; the smile of\nthe cupid and the laugh of the bacchante for another. She had an armory\nfull of weapons; the tear of sympathy, the corruscations of wit, the\nmeekness of modesty, the humility of religion, the splendor of dress, the\nornament and even the exposure of person. Everything about her was the\nhighest art in a garb of the sweetest nature.\n\nShe hesitated at nothing which would secure her a conquest. She was\nunhappy unless many were kneeling at her shrine. She lived upon the breath\nof adulation, the music of her own praises, the incense of delirious love.\nShe wished to absorb everything; she gave nothing in return. She demanded\nfor herself affection, thought, worship, life. She returned only smiles,\nhopes, dreams, shadows. She was a beautiful demon of selfishness. There\nwere fascination, magic, spiritual death in her sphere; but the soul died\nlistening to invisible music and dreaming of heaven.\n\nThis adoration of men and envy of women was more to be pitied than\nadmired. She had a mother whose influence was a dark shadow cast upon her\nlife. Neither beautiful nor gifted herself, she had determined that the\ngifts and beauty of her child should be turned to the utmost account. She\nhad planted a wild ambition in her girlish spirit, as one plants a rose in\na garden. She had nourished it and watered it carefully, until she brought\nit to baneful perfection. Her own evil nature was transfused into the\nchild.\n\nShe taught her that power, wealth, fashion, glory, were the true objects\nof rational pursuit. She cultivated her vanity, her petulance, her\nimperiousness. She basked in the sunshine of her beauty and power. Fatal\nparasite! she drew from the virgin tree upon which she fastened, the\nsustenance she could not herself extract from the earth and air. The too\npliant pupil accepted and improved all the lessons of the teacher; and\nbehold the result!\n\nOf the true character of Helena I knew nothing at the time. That discovery\nwas the result of subsequent information and experience. Nothing occurred\nin those blissful days to break the spell of the enchantress. I did,\nindeed, once or twice notice the contrast between this Athenian goddess\nand my pure and sweet sisters. I did once or twice wonder that Sappho and\nHorace should be her favorite poets, and Aspasia her model of female\ncharacter. But these shadowy doubts, like the faint threat of clouds which\nsometimes appear in the clearest heaven, soon passed away.\n\nHelena, petted and spoiled, set all the regulations of fashion and\npropriety at defiance. She did as she pleased, and every one was pleased\nwith what she did. Not every one; for she was the terror of rigid mothers\nand the scandal of prudish maidens. She walked unveiled in the streets.\nShe made herself conspicuous at the theatre and the racing-grounds. She\nvisited artists in their studios and poets in their chambers. She received\nvery questionable visitors at very unseasonable hours. Her dressing-room\neven opened its doors to favorite lovers, or to those of whom she wished\nto make a convenience. All this was done so boldly, so gracefully, so\nna\u00efvely, that no one dared to express a hint against her virtue.\n\nShe admitted me to her presence on a very familiar footing. One evening I\ncalled to see her, when she was dressing for a grand supper, and the\nservant ushered me into her boudoir. She was one bright blaze of jewels\nand beauty. The dressing-maid was giving the last caressing touches to her\nhair. She was scrutinizing the work in a metallic mirror with an ivory\nhandle, which she held like a fan.\n\n\u201cCome! my Judean!\u201d she said, casting upon me one of her most bewitching\nglances\u2014\u201ccome and put this ring into my ear.\u201d\n\nThis captivating service I rendered with trembling hands and palpitating\nheart. The dressing-maid smiled at my awkwardness and trepidation. Helena\nnever looked more resplendent. I felt helplessly bound to the\nchariot-wheels of her destiny.\n\nThe waiting-girl left the room, and falling at the feet of the\nunimpassioned beauty, I stammered forth my passion.\n\n\u201cHelena! do you know that I love you?\u201d\n\nShe was contemplating her chin in the mirror, and replied without looking\nat me:\n\n\u201cOf course you do. Everybody does.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Helena! I cannot live without loving you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is charming. Love me then and live.\u201d\n\n\u201cHelena!\u201d said I, sternly, \u201cyou mock me. You allure me as if I were a man;\nand then you treat me as if I were a boy. You invite me; you evade me; you\ntantalize me. Can you not love me?\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see,\u201d said she, looking up at the Judgment of Paris beautifully\nfrescoed on the ceiling; \u201clet me see: I love wisdom, riches, power and\nglory. When you are wise as Socrates, rich as Cr\u0153sus, eloquent as Cicero,\nand powerful as C\u00e6sar, I will love you and give myself to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour combination is impossible,\u201d said I, proudly, biting my lip with\nfailing heart and unconcealed vexation.\n\nHer face suddenly became radiant with a yielding, tender and beautiful\nexpression, and I added:\u2014\n\n\u201cBut if it existed, Helena, you would be worthy of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo love such as yours,\u201d she said, sweetly, pressing my hands, \u201call things\nare possible. We have been dreaming in the boudoir; let us converse in the\nparlor.\u201d\n\nShe led the way and overwhelmed me with such civilities that I forgot the\npast which had wounded me, and had golden glimpses of that magical future\nwhich was to console and bless me. Such is the dream-land of love!\n\nMy sisters continued to write the most glowing letters, full of piety and\ntender affection. Their rehearsal of miracles and parables, and of voices\nfrom heaven, their enthusiasm, their faith, their zeal, all fell as dull\nand cold upon my ear as the monotonous songs of an old nurse.\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XII.\n\n\n                          _THE HALL OF APOLLO._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI was awakened from my delicious dream by Demetrius, who importuned me to\naccompany him to Rome, whither he had been despatched by his father on\nbusiness of extreme importance. This reminded me that a visit to Rome was\nan essential part of my uncle\u2019s educational programme. I had abandoned\nphilosophy for love, and love cares nothing for thought, except as one\nmode of expressing the sentiments. My education, therefore, was at a\nstand-still. I hesitated and shuddered at the idea of leaving the charmed\ncircle in which I stood entranced. I would, perhaps, have neither\ngratified my friend nor obeyed my uncle, had not Helena carelessly dropped\nthe remark, that no student could truly regard his course of instruction\ncompleted until he had visited Rome. To acquire this title to perfection\nin the eyes of Helena, I endured the pangs of parting and the miseries of\nabsence; became a compliant friend and an obedient nephew. I went to Rome.\n\nRome did not impress me so favorably as Athens. I was fond of art, but\ncared little for glory. The efforts of man to reproduce the beauties of\nNature excited my admiration; his labors to immortalize himself and his\ndeeds excited my contempt. The art of Rome was imported; her glory was\nself-acquired. I had soon seen all that I cared to see of the imperial\ncity, which Augustus had found of brick and left of marble.\n\nDemetrius had letters to some of the most powerful and influential men in\nRome, so that we were soon introduced into the best society there. It was\nnot long before we received an invitation to one of the splendid suppers\nof Hortensius, the richest man and the greatest epicure in the world. I\nremembered the conversation of the slave-dealer at Alexandria. I mentally\nresolved, as we drove through the magnificent arch of his palace gate,\nthat, although I might taste of the nightingales of Hortensius, I\ncertainly would take none of his fish.\n\n\u201cBeware of the fish-ponds,\u201d said I, laughingly, to Anthony, who\naccompanied us as footman.\n\nThis palace of Hortensius was an affair of Babylonian magnificence.\nEverything about it was of colossal proportions. It was said to have as\nmany chambers as there were days in the year. Hortensius had twelve\nbed-rooms for himself, each named after one of the months, and gorgeously\nfurnished in a manner to represent the month after which it was named.\nThere were seven banqueting-halls named after gods and goddesses\u2014the\ndreams rather than the creations of art. This grand structure was burned\nduring the fire in the reign of Nero, and its splendors, no longer to be\nfound anywhere on earth, are already regarded as fabulous.\n\nWe supped in the Hall of Apollo.\n\nThe company was altogether male, which I did not regret; for I did not\nwish to see or speak to a woman in the world but Helena or my sisters. It\nwas composed of the magnates, the great stars of Roman society\u2014soldiers,\nstatesmen, senators, governors, etc.\u2014the least of them immeasurably above\nthe two young plebeian students, who, dumbfounded at all they saw, could\nnot but experience a painful sense of their own insignificance.\n\nOn my right hand, however, at the table, was a noble and sedate Roman,\nPontius Pilate, the governor of Judea. He had visited Rome to consult the\nemperor and the senate about the affairs of his province, and was on the\neve of returning. He seemed pleased when he learned that my home was in\nthe neighborhood of Jerusalem; and with great tact and urbanity drew me\nout of my abstracted mood, dissipated my bashfulness, and engaged me in an\nanimated conversation.\n\nThe Hall of Apollo was a miracle of beauty. Its area was immense; its\nshape, circular. Supported by twenty-four golden columns, the ceiling rose\nto a vast height, as a blue dome painted to represent the visible heavens.\nThe sun blazing up through masses of dense and crimson clouds; the\nintensely clear cerulean ether above; the horizon all around pierced by\nmountain peaks, overhung by rolling vapors of purple and gold, produced an\nillusion of astonishing power and magnificence.\n\nEvery object in the room, the pictures, the statuary, the bass-reliefs\nupon the columns, the carvings upon the couches and the gorgeous table,\nand even the engravings and embossings upon the splendid vases and vessels\nwhich adorned it, were all descriptive or symbolical of Apollo, his\nattributes and achievements. The wonder of the hall, however, was a golden\nchandelier of incredible size, containing a thousand rose-colored tapers,\nwhich lighted the scene with a brilliancy rivaling the day.\n\nI will not attempt to describe the feast, having no particular fondness\nfor epicurism. The bill of fare exceeded anything I had ever imagined.\nThere was service after service, dessert after dessert, wine after wine,\nseemingly without end. The meat-courses, lasting about three hours, were\npresented by handsome boys of every nationality, clad in beautiful livery.\nThe after-courses, of sweets and luxuries, were brought on by female\nservants, lovely in person and graceful in manner, revealing by their\ndress or otherwise every charm of the human body.\n\nWhen the company was well filled and duly flushed by the delicious wines,\nthe whole western wall of the apartment, by some hidden and admirable\nmechanism, suddenly opened or changed like a dissolving view, and revealed\nan interior apartment a little above the level of ours, which looked like\na beautiful garden adorned and lighted in a style of Oriental\nmagnificence.\n\nThe shrubbery and flowers of this garden were the concentrated beauties of\nthe floral world in all regions, cultivated here by art, and offering an\nincense of perfume to these Roman rulers, who aspired to conquer not only\nman but nature. Ivory statues of gods and goddesses, of nymphs and fawns\nand satyrs, added greatly to the beauty of the scene. But when a dozen\ndancing-girls alighted as it were from heaven upon this miraculous stage,\nand whirled among these statues and flowers, less perfect and beautiful\nthan themselves, the fascination, to those who regarded such enchantments,\nwas complete.\n\n\u201cMore music! more wine!\u201d cried Hortensius from his purple couch a little\nelevated above the rest\u2014\u201cthe feast of thought ends always in the feast of\nlove.\u201d\n\nThe banquet progressed with continued variations of stimulus and\nentertainment. The guests were regaled by invisible music, repeatedly\nchanged, and representing the airs and styles of every nation which had\nbowed its head to the Roman conqueror. The wine fell fast into golden\ngoblets from vases composed of precious gems. The day dawned. The noise\nand excitement increased: the conversation degenerated into a babble, and\nthe feast into a debauch; when a most extraordinary incident occurred,\nchanging my uncle\u2019s programme and perhaps my whole fate in the twinkling\nof an eye.\n\nA great clamor was heard outside of the door nearest Hortensius. Loud and\nangry voices, the rapid tread of many feet, curses, groans, shrieks,\nindicated the approach of some dreadful storm. It was a thunderbolt in a\nclear sky. All sprang to their feet and advanced toward the sounds, when\nthe door was burst open with violence, and my servant Anthony rushed in,\nfoaming at the mouth, bleeding profusely from several wounds and\nflourishing an immense knife over his head.\n\n\u201cI will kill him if I die for it!\u201d he shouted, glaring fiercely on the\nbrilliant crowd before him, and endeavoring to single out the object of\nhis hate.\n\n\u201cWhat does all this mean, Anthony?\u201d I exclaimed, leaping forward and\nseizing him by the throat.\n\n\u201cI have saved him from the fish-pond,\u201d he answered sternly, pointing to\nthe naked form of a poor negro, whom the domestics had at last succeeded\nin hurling to the floor, and who had followed Anthony, defending him from\nhis pursuers.\n\n\u201cAnd why did you not fly? madman!\u201d I exclaimed, \u201cwhy did you come here?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! death was inevitable,\u201d he answered, in a tone of desperation, \u201cand I\ndetermined first to kill the vile despot, the author of these cruelties.\u201d\n\n\u201cSlave! barbarian!\u201d echoed from all parts of the hall.\n\n\u201cSlave I am: barbarian I may be!\u201d shouted Anthony defiantly; \u201cbut in my\ncountry they do not feed fishes with men.\u201d\n\nThe crowd had stood back a little while we were speaking: but now there\nwas a sudden rush upon us in front and rear. I was pushed forcibly aside,\nand Anthony was borne down, disarmed and bound with his fellow-prisoner,\nwhose rescue had caused this great excitement.\n\n\u201cThrow the old one to the fishes immediately,\u201d cried Hortensius in a loud\nand cruel tone. \u201cBind this young villain by the pond and guard him till I\ncome. I will cut him up, strip by strip, with my own hands.\u201d\n\nA murmur of approbation ran through the assembly. Thrusting the bystanders\naway, I confronted Hortensius face to face.\n\n\u201cO most noble Roman,\u201d I exclaimed, \u201cpardon something in this poor man to\nthe spirit of liberty. He was born free, a prince in his little realm; and\nlike you, he has been a brave soldier. Misfortune in war, not crime, has\nenslaved him. He is honest, faithful and noble. It was a fierce and\nglorious love of his own race which has fired him to this rash deed. His\nsublime self-sacrifice, his desperate courage surely deserve a better fate\nat the hands of a Roman and a soldier. Spare him and forgive him!\u201d\n\nIt would be difficult to describe the fierce and haughty stare which\nHortensius and his noble guests fixed upon me during this little speech.\nThey wondered at my folly, my stupidity, my audacity. To plead for a black\nslave who had drawn his knife against a Roman senator! To accord the\nspirit of liberty to such vermin of the earth! To speak of them as brave,\nfaithful, noble, glorious, sublime! They were stupefied at the novelty and\nheresy of such ideas. I was certainly either a fool or a madman.\n\nHortensius, lowering his voice and infusing into it a little suavity,\u2014for\nhe suddenly remembered that I was his guest,\u2014exclaimed:\n\n\u201cThe proper discipline of my palace, young man, demands the immediate\ndeath of this would-be assassin. I will replace your servant with a\nbetter.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is beyond your power,\u201d I replied impetuously; \u201cyour whole household\nwould not replace him. I am indebted to his brother for my sister\u2019s life\nand honor. I am bound to this man\u2019s flesh and blood as if they were my\nown. I cannot, I will not desert him in his extremity.\u201d\n\nThere were loud exclamations of surprise, contempt and disapproval. Many,\nhowever, were silent, touched perhaps by a latent magnanimity.\n\n\u201cWhat will you do?\u201d exclaimed a haughty old Roman in a most provoking\ntone.\n\n\u201cDo?\u201d said I rashly, striking my hand upon the hilt of my dagger, \u201cdo?\u2014I\nwill defend him: I will die with him.\u201d\n\nThis caused a great uproar in the assembly. Loud cries of\n\n\u201cAway with him! out with him!\u201d\n\n\u201cInsult a Roman senator!\u201d\n\n\u201cAbettor of slaves and assassins!\u201d\n\n\u201cInsurrectionist! Madman! Idiot!\u201d\n\n\u201cDown with the base Judean!\u201d\n\nresounded through the splendid Hall of Apollo. My friend Demetrius, who\nhad hitherto stood near me, now slipped into the crowd and disappeared.\nHaving defied the supreme power of the place, I would probably have shared\nthe fate of the wretched Ethiopian, had not assistance come to me from an\nunexpected quarter.\n\nPontius Pilate stepped between Hortensius and myself, and waving his hand\nwith great dignity and grace, requested silence.\n\n\u201cPardon, dear friends and most noble senators! pardon the wine which has\nmade this rash youth forget both reason and duty. He is a subject of mine,\nbeing a native and resident of my province. I claim jurisdiction over him,\nand will punish him as he deserves. He is from this moment a prisoner in\ncharge of my retinue. He shall be carried back to his native village,\ndisarmed, bound and disgraced, so that all Judean youths may know what\nfolly it is to insult a Roman senator.\u201d\n\nThere was a strong murmur of approbation throughout the assembly, and\nHortensius nodded approval.\n\nPilate continued:\n\n\u201cI would not say a word to save this African from the death he so richly\nmerits, were it not for one dark suspicion which crosses my mind and which\nwill not permit me to be silent. I suspect this infuriate wretch to be a\nmadman; and the insane, you know, are under the protection of the gods\nand, sacred from the fangs of the law. Permit me to convey this slave also\nin irons to Judea. I will have his case carefully studied by my own\nphysician. If the gods have smitten him in their wisdom, let him go free\nas our laws direct. If he exhibits enough reason to be held responsible, I\nwill have him driven into the dreadful desert beyond the Salt Sea, and\nsentence him to a perpetual exile in its awful solitudes. If he is ever\ndiscovered west of the river Jordan, his punishment shall be death,\nwithout question or delay.\u201d\n\nWhether this proposition struck the hearers as remarkable, or what was\nmore likely, the social and civil weight of Pontius Pilate bore down their\nopposition and silenced their scruples, Hortensius acceded to it and all\nseemed satisfied. After drinking again to the health of Hortensius, the\ncompany dispersed. I soon found myself a prisoner bound for Judea,\ndeserted by Demetrius, exiled from Helena, full of sadness and dark\nforebodings, with the educational tour projected by my good uncle brought\nto a sudden and ignominious conclusion.\n\nThe only comfort I experienced during the long and melancholy voyage was\nthe thought that I had saved the life of my high-spirited Anthony, whom I\nwas not permitted to see, and whose daring conduct I more admired the more\nI thought of it.\n\nI was struck also with the wonderful tact, courtesy and kindness of\nPontius Pilate. I would gladly have thanked him for his services; but I\nwas kept in strict confinement, and heard and saw nothing of the sedate\ngovernor. On our arrival at Jerusalem, I was unbound and taken privately\nbefore him.\n\n\u201cYou are now free,\u201d he said. \u201cI admire you too much to inflict any further\npunishment upon you for your incredible rashness. You cannot help being\nbrave, but you can compel yourself to be prudent. Go, sir! When you get\ninto trouble again, let me hear from you and I will befriend you, if\npossible.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my servant?\u201d said I, hoping to intercede for Anthony.\n\n\u201cHe has been driven into the desert.\u201d\n\nAn hour afterward I was trudging up the Mount of Olives, thinking of what\na joyous surprise I was about to give to some dear little souls in\nBethany.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XIII.\n\n\n                            _MY FIRST DEATH._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nHow beautiful was my old home, embowered in trees and perfumed with\nflowers! How charming were my lovely sisters, twin-stars of the social\nheaven, dropping sweet influence on all who received their tender light!\nHow peaceful and pure was the self-sacrificing old age of Beltrezzor, over\nwhose pagan heart, so full of simple love and wisdom, the most orthodox\nangels kept kindly watch!\n\nA great sadness rested upon our little household, on account of the recent\nmurder of John the Baptist by the cruel Herod, at the instigation of a\nstill more cruel woman. That pure and good man had been cast into prison\nabout the time that Christ began his ministry, and the morning star paled\non the approach of the blazing Sun. He had ever been remembered with\npeculiar tenderness and gratitude; and heaven became dearer to us by\nreceiving into its fold the gentle hermit of the wilderness.\n\nMy sisters had grown lovelier. On Martha\u2019s clear brow the sweet maturity\nof thought was imprinted. Mingled with the light of love on Mary\u2019s face\nwas a touching sadness, of which none but Martha and I suspected the\nmeaning. These women, so pure, so cultivated, so beautiful, were\nabstracted from the entire world. Sought by many lovers, they had\ndiscarded the very thought of love. They were wedded in heart to the\nheavenly bridegroom.\n\nThey had heard but once from our old friend, the Son of the Desert. A\nstrange servant, no doubt a disguised robber, brought back the ring with a\nnote from the wanderer, saying that he was unworthy to wear it; that it\nafflicted him with sorrowful dreams and burned into his soul like iron.\nMartha herself fortunately met him at the gate, and would not permit him\nto depart without an answer, as he was instructed to do. She sent back the\nring with her love and Mary\u2019s to the savior of their brother, with the\nsolemn assurance that the ring had a great blessing for him concealed\nwithin its curse.\n\nI soon discovered that my sisters had but one idea, one study, one\npassion. Their individuality was lost in their perpetual concentration of\nsoul upon one object. That object was Jesus Christ. They no longer spoke\nof him as the prophet of Nazareth. Martha had at last discovered with her\neyes what Mary had seen with her heart. He was the Son of God: He was the\nMessiah. With subdued voices and reverent gestures they called him the\nLord.\n\nAll this was very strange to me, fresh from beautiful and romantic Greece,\nwhere altars were erected to a thousand gods: fresh from the schools of\nphilosophy, where the only deity taught was a spiritual essence, infinite,\ninconceivable, unfathomable. I listened, however, with interest to the\nrecital of miracles which were certainly astounding; to parables which\nwere replete with spiritual wisdom; and to discourses\u2014for my sisters\ntreasured all his words by heart and repeated them to me\u2014which were\nradiant with a certain divine light and beauty.\n\nI was ready to concede that this man must be the greatest philosopher of\nthe age.\n\nThis was the opinion of our good uncle, who, however, took no trouble to\nsee or hear the worker of such great miracles. He said there was nothing\nnew under the sun; that all things repeated themselves over and over\nagain; that all wisdom had been spoken and every miracle performed ages\nand ages ago. The Son of God was in his mind synonymous with a disciple of\nthe Sun.\n\nBeltrezzor was sorry that I did not remain a year at Rome, for he said the\npractical atmosphere of that city would have moderated and utilized the\nideality I had drawn from Athens. He was greatly pleased, however, with my\nconduct at the supper of Hortensius.\n\n\u201cThe man who sees any reason,\u201d he would say, \u201cwhy Hortensius should be\nmore wealthy, more powerful, more respected, more glorious than Anthony,\nhas not incorporated into his soul the first ray of the divine principle\nof fire, and is altogether ignorant of the power and beauty of the sun.\u201d\n\nA few weeks after my return, Beltrezzor transferred the whole of my\nfather\u2019s estate, improved and augmented, into my hands. No reasonings, no\nentreaties could induce him to abandon or even to defer his\nlong-contemplated journey to the extreme East. A strange, sad\nhome-sickness had apparently seized him; and he waited with a childish\nimpatience for the arrival of the caravan from Egypt which was to escort\nhim to Assyria.\n\nIt came at length; and our adieus were long and bitter. We were bound to\nhim not only by a pious gratitude for his rich gifts and his unvarying\nkindness, but by a genuine love of his sweet, sincere and noble nature. We\nwept at the thought of the dear old man going away into that far-off,\nmarvelous Orient, without a wife or child to comfort his declining years.\nMy sisters also seemed overwhelmed with grief, that one so good and so\nbeloved had rejected to the last, with a quiet, polite incredulity, all\nthe evidences of the divine mission of Jesus.\n\nThe old man\u2019s parting words to me, as he leaned from his camel, whispering\nin my ear, were these:\n\n\u201cBeware, my son, of the spirit of fanaticism which has fallen upon your\ngood sisters. I bequeath you this verse from one of the sacred books in\nPersia. It is my last and best gift to you. Do not forget it:\u2014\n\n\u201c\u2018It is more truly pious to sow the ground with diligence, than to say ten\nthousand prayers in idleness.\u2019\n\n\u201cAdieu!\u201d\n\nA few days after my uncle\u2019s departure, we were invited to dine at the\nhouse of a worthy Pharisee, Simon by name, who was touched at heart with a\nsecret admiration of Jesus. Preoccupied as I was with thoughts of Helena,\nand caring nothing about spiritual things, I would not have accompanied my\nsisters but at their earnest solicitation. They had been assured that\nJesus would be present, and they were anxious for me to behold the object\nof their love and worship.\n\nHe came, and saluted us all with a charming grace and sweetness of manner.\nHis face was handsome, thoughtful and benevolent, but did not strike you\nas majestic or sublime. There was a winning sociality in his conversation,\nwhich you did not expect from his serene and rather pensive countenance.\nHe was quiet and modest in his demeanor; and instead of leading the\nthoughts of the company, he spoke less than any one present.\n\nReflecting, by the light of later and grander experiences, upon the first\nimpressions made on me by this mysterious man, I am convinced that not\nonly his face, his expressions, his words, but his whole life was\ncomparatively a sealed book to the people who saw him in the flesh. They\nsaw only the outside, the husk, the fleshly, not the heavenly part of him.\nThey were ignorant of the sublimities, the infinities concealed within.\nWhoever sees only the physical and not at the same time the spiritual side\nof anything, sees little. The flowers, the gems, the clouds, all beautiful\nobjects, on the spiritual side are full of sacred mysteries. Ignorant of\nthese little things, how could the men of that day comprehend the Christ?\n\nWhat a different banquet from that of Hortensius! A plain room, opening\ndirectly on the street; a plain table; a plain company. At Rome we had a\nwild ambition, aspiring to universal empire, and imitating even in its\nluxuries all the splendors of heaven and earth. Here were simple tastes,\nfrugal habits, civic industry, neighborly love. There the presiding genius\nwas the demon of pride; here it was the Divine Man.\n\nThe feast was nearly over, when a woman, closely concealing her face in a\nblack veil, glided softly into the room and stood behind Jesus. This would\nnot have attracted special attention, for people were coming in and going\nout all the time; but I remembered Mary\u2019s account of the mysterious woman\nwho always followed Jesus and his disciples at a distance. I therefore\nwatched the movements of this person with considerable interest.\n\nShe bent low over the feet of Jesus as he reclined on his couch, and I\nobserved that she was weeping. She seemed deeply agitated. Suddenly she\nlet down the great mass of dark brown hair from her head, and began wiping\nthe feet of the Lord. Washing his feet with her tears and wiping them with\nthe hair of her head! What touching humility! What contrition!\n\nThen she anointed his feet with a precious ointment which she drew from\nher bosom.\n\nMy thoughts were concentrated on that kneeling figure. I entered so deeply\ninto what I imagined to be her feelings and sorrows, I was so attracted by\nwhat must have been a secret spiritual affinity with her own soul, that I\nheard almost nothing of the conversation which ensued between Jesus and\nSimon, and which is recorded by the apostle Luke who was himself present.\n\nWhen the divine voice pronounced the verdict, \u201cThy sins are forgiven;\u201d a\nstrange and bewildering sense of delight came over me, as if I myself had\nbeen the sinner who sought and found the pardon of sin. I was\ncontemplating in amazement this reverberation, as it were, of the woman\u2019s\nsentiments in my own spirit, when Jesus said, \u201cThy faith hath saved thee:\ngo in peace;\u201d and the woman turned slowly around and walked sobbing out of\nthe door.\n\nScarcely knowing what I did, I quietly withdrew from my place at the table\nand followed her. Suddenly, in some ecstasy of religious feeling, she\nthrew her arms wildly toward the sky, the veil was lifted for a moment,\nand I recognized the beautiful, sorrowing and purified features of Mary\nMagdalen!\n\nThe spell which overpowered me was instantly withdrawn, and I returned to\nmy seat. No psychology I had ever been taught, threw any light on this\nsingular phenomenon; and it remained a mystery until solved by that\nspecial light of the spiritual world which I alone of all men have\nenjoyed.\n\nAfter that the mysterious preacher and miracle-worker was a frequent\nvisitor at our house in Bethany. I came no nearer to him than at first: I\nunderstood him no better. He was a good, wise, wonderful man; beyond that\nI could not penetrate. I became intimate with all his disciples; and I\nloved to dispute with them on theological subjects, and to puzzle their\nuncultivated brains with my philosophical doubts and quibbles. But in the\npresence of their master I had nothing to say. I stood abashed and\nsilenced by some secret power which I could not explain. I never thought,\nhowever, of acknowledging him as the Messiah, or the Son of God.\n\nThe reason was, that my heart and mind were too closely riveted to nature\nand the things of sense, to rise to the conception and love of spiritual\nthings.\n\nWhile the faces of my sisters were growing more and more radiant and\nserene from the spiritual life which was deepening in their souls, mine\nbecame pale and haggard from the burden of concealed longings and the\nvigils of a burning but unfed hope. I had written and rewritten to Helena,\nbut received no answer. I would have returned to Athens; but the fear of\nleaving my tender and helpless sisters so near to such a subtle enemy as\nMagistus, and Beltrezzor away off in Persia, detained me unwillingly at\nBethany.\n\nAbsence extinguishes a feeble love; but intensifies a great one. I brooded\nin solitude. I took interest in nothing. Conversation was irksome.\nReligion and philosophy were alike neglected. I experienced that apathy\nwhich a great desolation of heart produces, and which men attribute to\nmoroseness or stupidity. I was feeding with the intense hunger of love\nupon my treasured memories of Helena; devouring every word she had spoken,\nevery look, every tone, every changing form, every shifting light of her\nmiraculous beauty.\n\nMy love for Helena, for reasons which I did not then comprehend, was not\nof a soothing, ennobling, purifying type. It was a disquieting,\nparalyzing, corroding passion. The sphere of this woman, wholly incapable\nof the heavenly duties of wife and mother, did not lead me, encouraged and\nstrengthened, into the sweet and useful activities of life. Like an evil\nspirit rather, it drove me into the wilderness; tempted me with stones\nwhich were not bread; and haunted me with wild dreams and insane\nambitions.\n\nThus many weeks passed away, and the fever of my soul had so worn and\nwasted me that my sisters became seriously alarmed at my condition, not\nknowing the cause; for I had never divulged my pagan goddess to these\npious little ones.\n\nOne day I was suddenly lifted out of the cavern of despair into the\nserenest sunlight of hope. I received a message from Helena that she was\ntraveling with her father to the most noted places in Asia, and would\nspend a few days in Jerusalem; that she was the guest of Alastor, a\nwealthy Greek merchant of the city, and that her visit would be devoid of\ngenuine pleasure unless she could see once more her esteemed friend, who\nhad saved the life of her brother.\n\nNow occurred a most curious mental phenomenon. The sudden reaction of joy\nin the feeble and excited state of my nervous system, overpowered my\nbrain. I became the victim of an absurd, grotesque illusion. I leaped at\nonce from the abyss of self-abasement to the maddest height of\npresumption. I transferred my entire experiences of heart and mind to\nHelena. She, I imagined, was pining with unconquerable passion for me. She\nwas wasted and worn by unrevealed, unrequited love. She had suffered and\nfaded in silence until longer concealment was death. Her father had\nbrought her under cover of travel really to meet me again, to draw me once\nmore to her feet, to obtain my confessions, and to receive new hope and\nlife from my words. I was filled with an unspeakable tenderness, with a\ngenerous compassion. I would fly to her; I would console her; I would make\nher life and happiness secure by giving her my own.\n\nBusied with these mad fancies, and muttering them to myself as I went\nalong, I hurried to the house of Alastor. Ushered into the presence of\nHelena, I was surprised and abashed by the serene and smiling expression\nof her countenance, and her splendid physique, upon which neither time nor\nlove had yet written the faintest trace of ravage. She received me without\nthe least embarrassment in the gay and sparkling manner of a cold and\npolished queen of society. I saw in a moment that I was not loved, that\nshe had never thought of me, that my hopes were dreams, my passion a\nmadness. I read my doom in the charming suavity of my reception.\n\nDisappointed, chilled, bewildered, heartsick, miserable, I maintained a\nbroken conversation for a little while, until Helena, perceiving with her\nwoman\u2019s wit, something, and perhaps all of my secret, broke off the\ninterview.\n\n\u201cYou are sick,\u201d said she tenderly, \u201cyou are feverish, you are in pain. You\nshould not have come until to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo home now,\u201d she continued, taking my hand kindly in hers, \u201cgo home and\nbe cared for. When you get better you must come again, and we will talk of\nAthens and art, of poetry and love; and of all the beautiful things that\nravish the hearts of men and women.\u201d\n\nI do not remember what I said, or how I parted from her. On the portico I\nmet a man going in, whose presence sent a strange shudder through my\nframe. My diseased nerves were very sensitive. He was a person of handsome\nface, imposing appearance and gracious address. He began speaking to me,\nbut suddenly stopped and fixed his great, black, lustrous eyes fiercely on\nme. My first impulse was to resent this conduct as an insult; but I\nquickly perceived that my mind was becoming confused, bewildered,\nfascinated by his gaze, and I averted my face with a great effort and\nhurried down the steps.\n\nI did not dare to look back. At the foot of the stairs I ran heedlessly\nagainst our old relative and enemy, Magistus, whom I had not seen since my\nreturn from Rome. Seizing him by the shoulders I gasped,\n\n\u201cWho is this man on the portico?\u201d\n\n\u201cSimon Magus,\u201d said he, with a coarse laugh,\u2014\u201cSimon Magus, the prince of\nEgyptian magic, and he has evidently cast the evil eye upon you. Woe to\nyou!\u201d\n\nI fled precipitately through the streets. When I reached home I was in a\nburning fever. At night I was in a raging delirium. It was a brain fever\nof malignant type. My mad and grotesque illusion about Helena was really\nthe beginning of my illness. Days and nights of alternate excitement and\nstupor passed away; days and nights of physical torture and mental\nsuffering. My sweet sisters watched and wept and prayed by my side.\n\nHorrible fantasies besieged my fevered imagination. I thought that Mary\nwas under the magician\u2019s knife, and that he would accept no substitute for\nher bleeding heart but that of Helena. I opened my eyes and started with\nhorror; for Mary was seated by my side, with the heart, as I supposed,\ntorn out of her bosom. Then again, Hortensius was cutting up the beautiful\nbody of Helena for his fish-ponds, while the Egyptian held me fascinated\nby his terrible eye, so that I could not stir for her help.\n\nI grew worse and the end approached. I had not realized my condition: I\nhad neither fear nor hope: I had no thought of death or of Jesus. At last,\nhowever, when I was dying, I heard my sisters calling frantically on his\nname. The name must have touched some silver chord of memory. The sweet,\nbenevolent face appeared before me, Mary Magdalen in her dark robe\nkneeling behind. The tender words, \u201cThy sins are forgiven,\u201d echoed in my\nears. Mary and Martha seemed to me like two shining angels floating up\ninto heaven. A sudden halo blazed around the head of Jesus. I reached out\nmy arms to him with wonder and delight, fell back and expired with a smile\nupon my lips.\n\nYes! I was dead: and, wonder of wonders! I live again, to describe my\nsensations, and to inform my fellow-men what I saw and heard behind the\nveil which separates the two worlds\u2014that veil which is so thin and yet\nseems so impenetrable.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XIV.\n\n\n                           _MY SPIRITUAL BODY._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nOur sleep is an awakening: our death is a birth; our burial a\nresurrection.\n\nThe slumber of a babe upon its mother\u2019s breast, drawing from her bodily\nwarmth the secret magnetism of life, is a picture of the true state of\nevery human soul, leaning unconsciously upon the bosom of God at the\nmoment when bereaved friends are exclaiming,\n\n\u201cHe is dead! he is dead!\u201d\n\nThey called me dead. My sisters and their companions rent their garments\nand covered their heads with ashes. Unconscious of their grief, I passed\nbeyond the shadows of this world, beyond these voices and sorrows, into\nthe pure light of a spiritual realm.\n\nDead, indeed! I lived most when I seemed to live least. Death is nothing\nbut a name for a change of condition.\n\nThe first thing I remember on returning to consciousness, was a soft\nstrain of distant and ravishing music. I could not open my eyes, nor did I\ncare to do so. It was perfect bliss to lie there in sweet repose, and\nlisten to those heavenly sounds which came nearer and nearer. I have been\nasked if there was music in heaven. Why, the least motion of the air there\nis musical. Music is to the ear what light is to the eye; and the sounds\nof heaven are as sweet as its colors are beautiful.\n\nI next became aware of presences about me. How can I describe the new\nsense which informed me of their nearness! I did not see or feel or hear\nthem. I perceived them, intuitively as it were, by a holy atmosphere of\nlove and purity and beauty which came with them. So the flowers, without\nsenses like our own, when the dark and chilly night is over, must feel the\ntremulous waves of light gladdening around them.\n\nThese invisible, inaudible attendants were engaged in some office of love\nabout me. What it was I did not understand; but I felt as if my body was\nbeing drawn out of something, as a hand is withdrawn from a\nglove,\u2014although no one seemed to touch me. I entered into a state of\nexalted and blissful sensations, totally new to me, and quite\nincomprehensible to men still lingering in the flesh. My affections seemed\nto be concentrated or detained upon pure, tender, lovely and holy things,\nso that nothing painful or doubtful or sorrowful should stain the shining\nmirror of the soul.\n\nI do not know how long this exquisite state of happiness lasted. It must\nhave been rounded off with a delicious sleep; for it seemed itself like a\nsweet and mysterious dream, when I discovered that I was wider awake than\nbefore, and surrounded by a different though still delightful and\npurifying sphere of impressions.\n\nFrom the presences about me I seemed to absorb the power of thinking and\nremembering distinctly. I could not open my eyes, but I seemed to be\ncontemplating a luminous atmosphere, an infinite variety of splendid and\ndazzling colors, a whole universe of light. The ecstasy of Joy with which,\nbewildered and fascinated, I studied this inexpressible chaos of light, is\nbeyond my power of description. In the midst of it I felt that two persons\nwere near me, one at my head and one at my feet. One of them seemed to\nbend over me, and to be reading my face as one reads a book. He then said\nto the other in a gentle voice:\n\n\u201cIt is good. His last thoughts were about the Lord.\u201d\n\nI pondered these words and asked myself whether I was dead or dreaming or\nin a trance.\n\nMy invisible friend then passed his hands several times gently over my\nface. He next drew a fine film from my eyelids and breathed upon my\nforehead. I instantly recovered my sight and looked around me. There were\ntwo men before me with beautiful and noble faces, and clad in robes of\nshining linen. I could not remove my eyes from them, there was something\nso inexpressibly tender and brotherly in their looks and motions.\n\n\u201cYou are in the world of spirits, my brother,\u201d said one of them with\nineffable sweetness. \u201cBe not afraid, but rejoice! The world of spirits is\nthe vast realm betwixt earth and heaven into which all men come when they\nare first raised from the dead.\u201d\n\n\u201cRaised from the dead?\u201d said I, in extreme bewilderment.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014you have been raised from the dead. You have left the earth upon\nwhich you were born; you have left your natural body, which your friends\nwill bury in the ground; you are now in a spiritual body and a spiritual\nstate of existence.\u201d\n\nI looked at myself and looked around me.\n\n\u201cI cannot understand it,\u201d said I, sorely puzzled. \u201cYou are certainly\nstrangers to me, and you look so unlike any of the men I have ever seen,\nthat I can readily believe you are angels. Nor do I see my beloved\nsisters, Martha and Mary, who, I know, would not leave my bedside for a\nmoment. But this body is the same body I have always had; this is the room\nin which I have been sick so long; and looking out of that window, I see\nthe Mount of Olives and the familiar sky of Judea. Explain how this can\nbe.\u201d\n\nThey looked at each other smiling, and one of them replied:\n\n\u201cThe last impressions made upon the mind linger a while after death; so\nthat the transition from natural to spiritual life may not be too sudden,\nand the sensation of personal identity may be fully preserved. This will\nchange to you presently. We do not see the room that you see, nor the\nMount of Olives, nor the Judean sky. These will all vanish from your sight\nafter a little, and you will find yourself differently clad and moving\nabout among novel and beautiful scenes.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d\u2014said I, incredulously,\u2014\u201cbut this body of flesh and blood, in which\nI live, move and think, how came it here?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat body of flesh and blood you have left behind you. The soul is a\nspiritual substance organized in the shape of its natural body. The\nnatural body resembles the spiritual as a glove resembles the hand\ncontained within it. You have dropped the glove. You see the naked hand.\u201d\n\n\u201cOur mission,\u201d he continued, \u201cis now ended, and another takes our place.\nWe assist in the resurrection.\u201d\n\nThey made a motion of departure, but I seized one of them by the hand.\n\n\u201cOh stay!\u201d said I, \u201cdo not go. Your words interest me beyond measure. I\nwould learn more of the heavenly life. Pardon my incredulity, pity my\nignorance.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne approaches,\u201d said he, \u201cwho is much nearer and dearer to you than we.\nRelatives delight to render to relatives these charming offices of comfort\nand instruction. He comes!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho?\u201d I exclaimed, eagerly.\n\n\u201cYour father!\u201d\n\nI looked in the direction indicated by the angel\u2019s face. Out of the\ndarkness\u2014which appeared to me and not to the angels, for it proceeded from\nmy own mind and not from theirs\u2014out of the darkness slowly loomed up a\nhuman figure. It brightened as it advanced. Then there stood before me a\nyoung man of radiant beauty, clad in a tissue of shining purple. His face\nwas full of eager expectation, sparkling with love and joy.\n\nWhile I was gazing at this form, which seemed to me a beautiful\napparition, the other angels disappeared.\n\n\u201cMy son! my son!\u201d exclaimed the shining visitor in a voice of touching\nsweetness, and which seemed in some way remotely familiar. \u201cDo you not\nknow me?\u201d\n\nI was silent and troubled, for there was not the faintest resemblance\nbetween the splendid being who stood before me and the poor father I had\nburied in the wilderness.\n\n\u201cI am permitted for your sake,\u201d said he, \u201cto return back into the mental\nstates of my earth-life and to resume its forms. This is one of the\nwonders of the spiritual world, but one which you will frequently see and\nsoon understand. Look steadfastly at the changes I shall undergo, and you\nwill believe.\u201d\n\nThe light about him began to fade. The purple tissue darkened; his face\ngrew pale; the lustre passed from his hair. His features gradually\nchanged, becoming less and less beautiful, less and less youthful.\nWrinkles appeared; his cheeks became haggard; his eyes sunken and sad; his\nhead bowed and bare; his beard gray. Unsightly scars came upon his\nforehead; and when he held up his withered hands, from which two or three\nfingers had dropped, I knew the poor old leper whom the cruel law had\ndriven into the wilderness.\n\n\u201cMy father! my father!\u201d I exclaimed, weeping at the sight which recalled\nso vividly the sorrows long buried in the soul, \u201cI am satisfied. Return\nagain into the beauty and glory of your heavenly youth. Let us forget the\npast. Let me see you as you are!\u201d\n\nHis figure then underwent exactly the reverse series of changes; and when\nhis angelic form was restored, I fell upon his neck and wept tears of joy.\n\nI inquired into the philosophy of the astounding metamorphoses I had\nwitnessed. I was taught that spiritual things\u2014states of our affections and\nthoughts\u2014are not so perishable as natural things; that they are stored\naway and preserved; and that they can be recalled and reproduced with a\nfac-simile of all the surrounding concomitants and phenomena. A spirit can\nbe made to return into any state of his past life, when he will repeat his\nconduct to the least word and motion and incident. Thus nothing can be\nconcealed; the entire past can be re-enacted; truth discovered and\njudgment given.\n\nIt was in accordance with this great spiritual law of changing forms\ncorresponding with the changing states of the soul, that the disciples\nbeheld Jesus from such different stand-points. If Thomas Didymus could\nhave entered into the spiritual state of the three disciples on the mount,\nhe would not have seen the Christ showing the wound in his side and the\nprint of the nails, but he would have beheld him radiant\u2014in his\ntransfigured glory. It was the varying stand-points or mental states of\nthe disciples, which give us such different manifestations of the\nUnchangeable.\n\nI was not, however, thinking of these things at that moment. I was\ncontemplating the youth and beauty of my father\u2019s spiritual body.\n\n\u201cI was told,\u201d said I, \u201cthat the spiritual body was a fac-simile of the\nnatural body. How comes it that yours is so totally different?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I first rose from the dead,\u201d he replied, \u201cI seemed to myself to be\nin the same leprous body that I had in the wilderness; and like all men I\nfound some difficulty in realizing the fact that I was living in a\ndifferent world. The spiritual body or external form of the soul, changes\nrapidly according to the changes of its internal form, which is composed\nof affections and thoughts. In proportion as these are purified from the\nevil and false things imbibed during the natural life, the body is freed\nfrom its imperfections, its feebleness and its want of symmetry.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why do you look so young?\u201d I inquired.\n\n\u201cTime,\u201d said he, \u201cdoes not belong to the spiritual world. We have no\ncomputations here by months and years; no revolution of suns and planets,\nwhich produce day and night and the changing seasons of the world. Our\nexternal surroundings, what you would call our visible nature, are the\nimmediate outgrowth of our own spiritual states. The exterior changes\ncontinually with the interior. All in heaven are therefore young and\nbeautiful, because their soul-life is good and pure, and is fitly\nrepresented by youth and beauty.\u201d\n\nMy father then questioned me about the dear ones I had left behind. He\nmanifested the deepest and tenderest sympathy in all that had happened to\nus since his departure from the world. He had heard of us frequently from\nnew-comers into the world of spirits. We do not cease to love our earthly\nfriends after death. But in the heavenly life there is such a thorough,\nsoul-satisfying trust in the wise and merciful guidance of Divine\nProvidence, that fears, doubts and anxieties about our absent loved ones,\nare utterly impossible.\n\n\u201cAnd my mother?\u201d I inquired in turn,\u2014\u201cmy mother and my little brother\nSamuel, where are they?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn heaven,\u201d said he, \u201cwhere you shall see them, but not now. You will\nundergo sundry preparations of state, inexplicable to you at present, by\nwhich you will be fitted for the ascent into their resplendent abodes.\u201d\n\nThe angel who assisted in my resurrection was right. The objects which\nsurrounded me at my death, and which lingered a while on my mental vision,\nhad faded away. I found myself in a strange but beautiful world, the forms\nof which were similar to ours, but the laws which governed their\nappearance and disappearance very different.\n\nI must confess that I was supremely astonished to find myself living,\nfeeling, thinking, precisely as I did before my death. My mind indeed\nseemed more active, more penetrating than ever. My body had a buoyancy, a\nstrength, a healthfulness pervading it, which were accompanied by a sense\nof intense pleasure. But it still seemed the same body in which I had\npreviously lived; and I could scarcely comprehend my father when he told\nme that my sisters and friends were making preparations to bury my earthly\nform.\n\n\u201cOh that I could look down upon them,\u201d said I, \u201ccould speak to them, could\nshow them my true self, and lift their souls out of the fearful shadow of\nthe tomb! Why is it not granted us to cheer the hearts and illumine the\nminds of those who are sorrowing so vainly over our cold dust?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey would not believe you, my son, if it were permitted. They would call\nyour manifestation to them a vision, a hallucination, a dream. They are in\nsuch bondage to sensuous appearances, and to reasonings based upon them,\nthat nothing but death will break their chains. It will take generations,\nages, centuries, cycles of natural time to render higher thought on that\nsubject possible. New civilizations, new churches, new revelations must\narise before mankind can be delivered from this terrible darkness.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that natural body,\u201d said I, \u201claid in the grave, and food for worms,\nis not to rise again?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should it?\u201d said my father. \u201cWho wants it? What use could it\nsubserve? Are we not in spiritual bodies clothed with all beauty and\nperfection? Are we not in a spiritual world vastly more beautiful and\nhappy than the natural? Why should we return into nature? into a natural\nbody? into an envelope of flesh and blood, however purified and\netherealized?\u201d\n\nThese ideas struck me as extremely rational and beautiful. Having passed\nthe lowest round of the ladder of being, why should we reverse the laws of\ndevelopment and descend back to it again? Impossible! The natural body was\nonly a vehicle of natural life with its thoughts and emotions. Spiritual\nthoughts and emotions demand a spiritual body, a spiritual world. Let\nthose who choose, wed themselves to the grave and the worm and the dust\nand the darkness, and speak of their friends as sleeping in the cold\nground, and satisfy their hungry souls with the hope of a material\nresurrection. But their ideas are far, very far from the truth; and the\nminds of men will some day be emancipated from such gross naturalism.\n\n\u201cImagine,\u201d said my father, \u201cthe consternation of the good spirits, who are\nhappy in heaven, at the thought that they must leave it, divest themselves\nof their beautiful spiritual bodies, and return to the natural world with\nall its painful limitations of time and space, resuming their old cast-off\nmaterial bodies, which had been long since resolved into dust and\nforgotten!\u201d\n\nThe thought is monstrous! monstrous! And yet the poor blinded people in\nthe natural world dwell upon it as if there were some special consolation,\nsome glorious promise in it. Incomprehensible freaks of the human spirit!\nHe who preaches a material resurrection, has made but one feeble step\nbeyond the infidel who preaches none at all.\n\n\u201cMen still in the flesh,\u201d said my father, \u201cdo not know that our spiritual\nworld inhabited by spiritual bodies fulfills all the imperative demands of\nthe soul for a perfect and final resting-place. We have here life and\nform, organization and objects, weight and substance, sounds and colors\nall more beautiful and wonderful than those in the natural world. All\nthese things, invisible, intangible, inaudible to men, are as real and\nsolid to our senses as the earth was to you when you were a man upon it.\n\n\u201cYet this external world surrounding us is not material and fixed like\nyours. It is what we call substantial or spiritual. It is plastic to\nspiritual forces. It changes, not according to your natural laws, but\naccording to the changes in our own spirits. This is the key to the great\ndifference which exists between the world you have left and this glorious\none in which you are to live for ever.\n\n\u201cOur light here changes. It is day or night with us according to our own\nspiritual relations to the great Fountain of life. In one state of mind we\nare in the city, in another in the country. Certain emotions carry us to\nthe mountain-tops; others place us among the sands and shells of the\nsea-shore. In one state of thought we are walking in flower-gardens of\nethereal beauty; in another we are sitting by rivulets which echo the\nmusic of our own hearts. Thus mountains, fields, rivers, cities, houses,\nanimate and inanimate objects come and go, appear and disappear, according\nas they represent or symbolize the interior changes of our spirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll this,\u201d said I, \u201cis so beautiful that it seems impossible. Liberated\nnow from the thraldom of time and space, I understand you; but I doubt\nwhether the most gifted philosopher in Athens can conceive of a world\nwithout time or space; of a world so phantasmagoric in appearance, yet\nsaid to be so genuine and eternal in reality.\u201d\n\n\u201cOur spaces are determined,\u201d said my father, \u201cby spiritual affinities.\nSimilarity of thought and feeling determines presence; dissimilarity makes\ndistance or absence. When you here direct your thought to any person on\nthe same plane of life, as we call it, with yourself, having at the same\ntime a desire to see him, that person becomes aware of the fact, and,\nresponding to your desire, is face to face with you at once.\n\n\u201cLet us both,\u201d he continued, \u201cfix our thoughts intently upon our noble and\nlovely friend, John, called the Baptist, who was beheaded in prison, and\nis performing here a similar office to that which he so well executed on\nthe banks of the Jordan.\u201d\n\nWe did so; and in a moment there was a beautiful flash of azure light,\nlike a great sheet of water reflecting the sun and sky.\n\n\u201cThat,\u201d said my father, \u201cis the sphere or symbolic appearance which always\nprecedes and announces the coming of the gentle herald of the Lord.\u201d\n\nThen stood before us the young prophet of the wilderness, beautified,\netherealized, glorified beyond conception.\n\nHe saluted me with brotherly warmth, and we entered into a long\nconversation which I shall not repeat; but from which I learned a thousand\ninteresting and wonderful things about the spiritual world\u2014things\nincredible to men in the flesh, most of whom, like birds of night, are\nsatisfied with the darkness of nature.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XV.\n\n\n                         _THE WORLD OF SPIRITS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI was greatly astonished at the nature and importance of that intermediate\nstate of life which I have called the world of spirits. Although the\ndoctrine of a place of departed spirits, called Sheol or Hades, is\ndistinctly taught in Scripture and by tradition, it seems to have made a\nvery feeble impression on the minds even of the most devout. Most men\nthink they will go immediately to heaven or to hell when they die. They\nare mistaken.\n\nThe world of spirits receives into its vast bosom the mighty congregation\nof the dead from all nations and climes. It is the first grand receptacle\nof the whole human race after death. It is the place of judgment, special\nand general. It may be compared to the stomach, into which all articles of\nfood and drink are collected; where they are all comminuted, concussed,\nexpressed, decomposed and digested; and what is found good and nutritive\nis taken up into the blood and makes a part of the living man; while the\nhard, unwholesome and innutritious portions, which cannot be dissolved or\nappropriated, are cast out of the system as useless or injurious.\n\nLet not the reader smile at this anatomical metaphor. When he gets an\ninterior view of the human body such as I have enjoyed, he will see that\nit is an epitome of the universe; that the mysteries of nature, the\nwonders of philosophy and the secrets of heaven are all written upon its\norgans and tissues.\n\nIn the present state we are strangely compounded of good and evil, both\nhereditary and acquired. He who thinks that all good people on earth are\nready, at death, to pass at once into heaven without further preparation\nand instruction, has formed a mistaken idea of heaven. Our life in the\nworld of spirits is a judgment upon ourselves, an unfolding or unrolling\nof our true characters, a revelation of our evils under the best possible\ncircumstances; where by the assistance and instruction of angelic friends,\nour imperfections, if our ruling love be good, can be finally removed, and\nour souls fitted for that perfect social organization based upon supreme\nlove to God and the neighbor, which men in the flesh cannot understand or\neven imagine.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d says some one, \u201call that is done for us instantaneously at death by\nthe miraculous power of God.\u201d\n\nGod works always by organic and eternal laws. The spirit, like the body,\ngrows, develops, progresses by definite means. Seeds do not expand\ninstantaneously into trees. A diseased tree is not changed in a moment\ninto a healthy one. The soul which attains heaven does so by regular and\nprogressive steps, many of which (if there has been a commencement on\nearth) are taken in the world of spirits. The idea that miraculous power\nchanges a bad man into a good one, an impure soul into a pure one, in a\nmoment of time, in answer to prayer and faith, is a childish fallacy\ndisastrous to the life of true religion.\n\nThe population of this world of spirits is immense. Not only the dead from\nour world are there, but angelic spirits from heaven and evil spirits from\nhell all meet on this grand arena of spiritual combat and instruction. In\nthe time of Christ many generations and centuries of human life were\naccumulated there; for evil had become so predominant, and the spiritual\nelement in man so nearly extinguished, that few or none could be prepared\nfor heaven. Unless, indeed, God had descended in the human form and\nexecuted a great judgment in that world, casting the evil into hell and\nrevealing a higher dispensation of truth, mankind would have perished and\nheaven itself have been threatened with chaos.\n\nBut all this is myth and mystery to those who have busied themselves only\nwith the historical movements of the natural world, not even knowing that\nthe world of spirits above and around them had far grander historical\nmovements,\u2014the key and cause of all others.\n\nEvery human being living in the natural world, is attended by two good and\ntwo evil spirits who are living in the intermediate state. I saw the\nspirits who had accompanied me during my life; and, what is singular,\nalthough I had never seen them before, they appeared like old\nacquaintances and friends whom I had known from my youth. Let no man\nsuppose that he will rise from the dead into the world of spirits, and\nfind himself a stranger there, friendless and alone.\n\nIt seemed very wonderful to me that this mighty realm of spirits should be\nso near to men, secretly connected with them by affections and thoughts,\nflowing down into them, giving them life and power, and instigating them\nto good or evil, and still that the human race should remain ignorant of\nthe stupendous fact\u2014benighted by all kinds of false philosophies and false\nreligions.\n\n\u201cWhy,\u201d said I to my father, \u201care not our earthly friends permitted to see\nus in this better and brighter sphere, to converse with us, and establish\nsocial relations with us?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are in natural bodies,\u201d said he, \u201cand they cannot see our spiritual\nforms with their natural eyes. Their own spiritual eyes would have to be\nopened before they could see us. The opening of their spiritual senses\nwould bring them into conscious communication with the world of spirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said I, \u201cso much the better. They would then see all these\nwonderful things for themselves, and their doubts would be wholly\ndissipated.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! you know little as yet of the world of spirits. It is full of evil\nand wicked ones, who share the bad passions and prompt the sinful deeds of\nmen on earth. If men came, by the opening of their spiritual senses, into\nvisible and audible communication with their own attendant evil spirits,\nthe power of hell on the earth would be immeasurably increased. The power\nof a wicked companion in the flesh is great; but the power of an evil\nspirit enthroned in your bosom, possessed of your entire memory, and\ngoverning from his more interior stand-point every movement of your brain,\nwould be fearful indeed!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d he continued; \u201cit is the mercy of the Lord which in the present evil\nstate of the world keeps these two realms of being from a conscious\nintermingling. The offices and uses of the two worlds are different; one\nbegins where the other ends. To throw them together would be to produce\ninextricable confusion, to destroy free-agency, to confound good and evil,\nto thwart regeneration, to arrest the judgment, to close heaven and to\nopen hell.\n\n\u201cAll this can only be made clear to you by a thorough system of religious\nphilosophy, embracing a true psychology and the organic relations of God\nto the universe, and of the different parts of it to each other. All these\nwill be the subjects of your delightful study, and may possibly be\nrevealed to mankind in some far-off futurity, when men become capable of\nreceiving and utilizing such sublime mysteries.\n\n\u201cTo seek to penetrate the veil which separates the spiritual from the\nnatural realm, to invite an open intercourse with spirits, to consult them\nabout earthly affairs, is one of the terrible crimes denounced and\nforbidden in Scripture. It is the secret source of the power and mysteries\nof magic. To seek such intercourse is perilous to the soul\u2019s best welfare.\nTherefore it is that consulting with \u2018familiar spirits\u2019 is forbidden in\nthe Word. It is forbidden for man\u2019s own good.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese are new ideas to me,\u201d I said, \u201cand I cannot fully comprehend them.\nHow should I, filled as I am with fallacies which need exposure and\nremoval! But I am appalled, my dear father, at the thought that the world\nof spirits is so full of evil, and that we enter on a state of fearful\nexplorations, combats, temptations and judgments on leaving the natural\nworld.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my son. In heaven only there is rest. There only are perfect peace\nand order and love. The road to heaven lies through the world of spirits,\nthrough its instructions, its purifications, its judgments. The pathway is\npleasant and beautiful to the good man; for at every step he lets fall\nsome hateful thing that clung to him in the past, and he rises into new\nlight, new glory, new joy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou spoke,\u201d said I, \u201cof general judgments occurring in the world of\nspirits, as well as the particular judgment of each individual. What do\nyou mean by that?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt the end of every church, every dispensation, every old order of\nthings, and at the beginning of a new church, a new revelation, a new era,\nthere is a great judgment executed in the world of spirits. This judgment\nis effected by the light of divine truth streaming down through the open\nheavens, searching people to the core, revealing their true characters,\nseparating the evil from the good, casting the former into hell, elevating\nthe latter into heaven. It is a destruction and reconstruction of the\nworld of spirits. This stupendous event is described in Scripture as the\ngreat and notable day of the Lord, the day of wrath, the judgment day, the\nend of the world.\n\n\u201cYou have come into the world of spirits at a period when you can witness\nthe mighty events foretold by Isaiah and Ezekiel. There is a judgment now\ngoing on upon the last remains of the Jewish Church, and on all the pagan\nnations in the world of spirits; and preparations are being made for the\ninstitution of a new and more spiritual church on earth. The Messiah has\ncome and judgment follows.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou astonish me,\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cThe people on earth know nothing of these\nthings. They are expecting a fulfillment of the prophecies in the material\nworld. They expect the Messiah to come in splendor and power, to invest\nthe Jewish people with supreme dominion, and to wreak his vengeance on all\nthe disobedient and idolatrous.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor blind ones, led by the blind! They interpret literally what was\nwritten in the language of symbols and given to them for spiritual uses.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy the necessity of this judgment?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u201cBecause the church is corrupt and dead; the priests are drunk with the\nwine of false doctrine; the people blind and without a shepherd. Therefore\niniquity abounds. The flood-gates of hell are opened. The world of spirits\nis crowded with evil ones, who prevent the good from ascending to heaven,\nand infuse the most direful evils and falsities into men on earth. The\nprophets are dumb. The magician and the sorcerer are in the ascendant.\n\n\u201cLet me tell you something,\u201d he added in a solemn and subdued tone,\n\u201cwhich, if you comprehend its full meaning, would make you tremble with\nfear. The order of the universe has been so far broken that demons have\nissued from hell; and there is a general insurrection of the evil spheres\nagainst heaven itself. Unless these hells are subdued and these evil ones\ncast out from the world of spirits, the people on earth will be obsessed,\nsoul and body, by wicked spirits, human society will be destroyed, and\nuniversal chaos reign.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou appall me by your prediction. But my wonder is, how such dangers can\nbe impending, and the human race know nothing about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause they know nothing of spiritual things\u2014nothing of this world of\nspirits in which are the cause and origin of all things. Because they look\ndownward, and not upward. Because they have eyes and see not; ears and\nhear not. Because they have perverted and nullified the Word of God by a\nsensuous interpretation of its meaning.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas! then,\u201d said I, \u201chow can the lost order be restored and the world\nsaved?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy one arm alone; that of the Creator, the Supreme Being, the Lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh,\u201d said I, \u201cthis Being of supreme power created man in his supreme\nwisdom, gave him angelic attendants, a written Law, an established\nChurch\u2014and behold the result! What new influences can He bring to bear\nupon his fallen and doomed creatures?\u201d\n\n\u201cListen. He has clothed Himself with clouds and come down to us\u2014to men on\nthe earth. As the sun clothes his consuming rays with an atmosphere of\nvapor, which moderates them and accommodates them to the states of man and\nbeast, so has God clothed himself in a finite human form and thus come\ndown to his creatures. He is now engaged in spiritual combats with all\nthese evil spheres. He is casting these lions of wickedness into their\ndens and shutting their mouths. He will purge and purify the world of\nspirits, deliver heaven from the assaults of the wicked, lift the great\nshadow of chaos from the world, restore man to his free agency and make\nhim hereafter capable of a higher and more spiritual life. God is,\nhenceforth, in the eyes of his children, not an invisible Spirit, but a\nDivine Man.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese are mysteries and dreams to my understanding. I cannot comprehend\nhow the Supreme Being, infinite, omnipotent, omnipresent, can assume a\nhuman body and live like one of us.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt shall be made clearer to you. You shall see Him. Indeed you have seen\nHim, but you did not know Him. You shall see Him again\u2014and know Him.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall see the living God?\u201d said I, in a state of solemn trepidation.\n\n\u201cYes\u201d\u2014said John the Baptist, who accompanied us\u2014\u201cyou shall see Him. I have\nsurrounded you, by divine permission, with an atmosphere which will enable\nyou without pain to endure his coming.\u201d\n\nI cannot convey to mortals an adequate idea of the sense of awe which\ncrept over me at these words. My knees smote together; my hands dropped;\nmy heart trembled; my brain reeled at the thought of standing face to face\nwith the living God!\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XVI.\n\n\n                        _THE CHRIST ABOVE NATURE._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI now approach a subject so sublime and awe-inspiring, that it is\nnecessary for us, like Moses before the burning bush, to take off our\nshoes from our feet; for the place is holy ground.\n\nLet not the scoffer or unbeliever suppose that a stronger mind, a firmer\nreason, a clearer light, are the cause of his incredulity. He will\ndisbelieve and repudiate what I am about to narrate, only because, in the\nprogress of development, his own spirit has not yet reached that stage\nwhen he can comprehend and receive the most beautiful and holy truths.\n\nWe had been walking in an easterly direction during the latter part of our\nconversation. Suddenly there appeared before us a vast golden-colored\nsheet or blaze of light in the east. It was exceedingly brilliant, but at\nthe same time inexpressibly soft and beautiful. In the centre of this\ngreat luminous field there was a snowy dove with outspread wings, bearing\nan olive branch in her mouth.\n\n\u201cThe sphere of the Lord in the world of spirits!\u201d exclaimed my companions\nin a breath; and they knelt with bowed heads and reverent faces at the\napproach of the resplendent symbol.\n\n\u201cThis was the sphere which I saw,\u201d said John, \u201cat the baptism of Jesus. My\nspiritual senses were partly opened, and this golden light which surrounds\nthe Lord, appeared to encompass his natural body; and the dove, which\nrepresents the Holy Spirit of love and peace, rested upon Him; while a\nrevelation was made to me, that this man whom I had baptized, was truly\nthe Son of God.\u201d\n\nI scarcely heard these words, nor did I understand them; for my mind was\nin a state of great agitation. I had never been pious: I was scarcely even\nreligious in an external sense. I knew little or nothing of conviction of\nsin, penitence or repentance. I was, therefore, amazed at the new\nsensations I experienced. There was a painful sense of my own unregenerate\ncondition; a terrible self-reproach, self-loathing, self-abasement; and\nwith tears of contrition and humility I prostrated myself on my face. It\nwas the sphere of the Lord, the light of heaven, the Spirit of God\npenetrating my soul and revealing me to myself.\n\nMy father now raised me from the ground, and fell upon my neck weeping.\n\n\u201cBe not astonished,\u201d he said. \u201cThese are tears of joy! You have been\ntested by the divine light. There are remains of goodness and truth in\nyour soul. You will be saved. Heaven is yours.\u201d\n\nThis was more incomprehensible to me than anything yet, but I said\nnothing; for a sweet calm overspread my senses, and I became aware of the\nproximity of holy and august presences. I looked around me. I saw a great\nmultitude of good spirits before us. All faces were directed to a group of\nfigures which occupied a little knoll in their midst. In the centre of\nthat group, I recognized Jesus of Nazareth!\n\nHis face shone as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light.\nDazzling as his form appeared, his features were perfectly familiar, but\netherealized and glorified, Moses and Elijah stood by him, one on his\nright hand and the other on his left. I recognized them at once; for every\nJew has seen the statues and pictures of those national worthies.\n\nNotwithstanding all that John the Baptist and my father had said, my\nobtuse understanding had not yet grasped the idea, that Jesus Christ was\nthe Messiah\u2014the Supreme Being.\n\n\u201cHas Jesus of Nazareth died also,\u201d I inquired, \u201cand been raised like\nmyself from the natural into the spiritual world?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d said John, smiling sweetly at my bewilderment. \u201cHe exists in both\nworlds, in all worlds, at the same time.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak enigmas,\u201d said I; \u201cinterpret them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhom do you suppose this Jesus to be?\u201d inquired John, earnestly.\n\n\u201cSome great prophet of God sent to perform miracles in Judea, and to\npreach a new gospel of peace and love.\u201d\n\n\u201cJesus, the anointed One, is God himself,\u201d said John, with deep solemnity.\n\nI answered nothing, for my mind was blank with astonishment. I gazed at\nthe shining form with solemn awe. I now observed that Jesus was speaking\nor preaching to the multitude around him. I did not, however, hear a word\nhe said.\n\n\u201cThese are good spirits,\u201d said John, in explanation, \u201cwhom the Lord has\nliberated from the bondage of the evil spirits who infest this\nintermediate state. He is teaching them the spiritual truths adapted to\ntheir new condition, which correspond to the truths he is simultaneously\nteaching his disciples on earth.\n\n\u201cYou are not permitted to hear what he says, because the fallacies of your\nnatural life have not been sufficiently removed; and your mind would\npervert his divine truths, or change them into the opposite falsities. You\nwill be instructed in due season, and all things necessary to your life\nand happiness will be given you.\n\n\u201cIn the mean time,\u201d he continued, \u201clet us be seated under this beautiful\ntree, whose boughs make mysterious music, while I endeavor to bring it\nclearly to your mind that Jesus is God; for without an acknowledgment of\nhis supreme divinity, no genuine spiritual truth can be received. The idea\nof God is a fundamental idea; and every one\u2019s state depends upon it or is\ndetermined by it. If that be false all is false; the mind is a dark\nchamber full of motes and cobwebs.\n\n\u201cDid not the Jews stone Jesus for affirming his equality and identity with\nGod? Did not Jesus declare his pre-existence in saying that before Abraham\nlived, he lived? Did he not teach his omnipotence, his infinity, when he\nclaimed to be one with the Father, and told his disciples that whoever had\nseen him, had seen the Father? Is not his name Immanuel\u2014\u2018God with us?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid not the prophets affirm that the Messiah who was to be born of a\nvirgin, and to redeem Israel in the form of a man, was really the mighty\nCounselor, the Prince of Peace, the everlasting Father, Jehovah? Did they\nnot repeatedly mention the Holy One of Israel, the Messiah that was to\ncome, under such titles as \u2018the Lord of hosts,\u2019 \u2018the God of the whole\nearth,\u2019 and other names applicable only to the Supreme Being?\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy then should you be astonished that God is present in both worlds at\nthe same time? Is He not omnipresent? ubiquitous? Unlimited by time or\nspace, does He not manifest Himself to his creatures in all times and in\nall places? Can He not, if He will, appear simultaneously to all created\nintelligences in all the natural and spiritual spheres He has created?\n\n\u201cThis Jesus, the Messiah, is everywhere. If you ascend into the heaven\nnext above us, on fitting occasions you would see Him there in a more\nglorified form. If you mount still higher, you will only be coming nearer\nto Him, and behold Him in still more transcendent glory. Sometimes He\nappears to the angels as a Divine Man standing in the sun of the spiritual\nworld. It was this truth, transmitted by tradition to the ancient people\nof Asia, which gave rise (as they fell into naturalism) to the worship of\nthe natural sun and the adoration of fire.\u201d\n\nAt these words I seemed to see my good and generous uncle Beltrezzor\nbowing his head reverently to the great luminary, from which the celestial\nface of Jesus looked down, smiling benediction upon the childlike old man.\n\n\u201cWhat you tell me,\u201d said I, \u201cof Christ, is so strange that at first sight\nit appears incomprehensible. I perceive, indeed, that if Jesus be the\nsupreme God of the universe, He may be seen simultaneously from every\nstand-point in the spiritual world, in every sphere, in every society, and\nby every individual soul, and everywhere take on a form accommodated to\nthe spiritual states of those who behold Him. The difficulty in my mind\nlies in identifying the man Jesus whom I knew in Bethany, with this\nsublime resemblance of Him that I see in the world of spirits; and in\ncomprehending that they are one person leading a simultaneous life in two\nspheres; and, finally, that this one person is the Supreme God.\n\n\u201cMy difficulty is increased when I remember that Jesus in his earth-life\nis accustomed to call himself the Son of God. Although he said plainly\nthat he and the Father were one, yet he sometimes speaks of the Father as\ngreater than himself: of praying to the Father for his disciples; and of\nascending to the Father on the consummation of his work.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe has certainly left the impression upon his hearers that there are two\npersons in the Godhead; one higher, superior, interior; the other, a man\namong men; and that between these two there is some mystical union\nincomprehensible to the human mind.\u201d\n\n\u201cMost of his disciples accept this idea blindly, as a holy mystery.\nPersons of philosophic culture, who have studied Jesus as a phenomenon,\nregard him as a Son of God, or rather an emanation from God, in the same\nsense that Brahma, Osiris, Zoroaster, Moses, and Plato, are sons of God,\nor manifestations of divine truth. The mystical union between Father and\nSon is supposed to be an incorporation of the soul of man, by a life of\nobedience and goodness, with the essential Divine nature from which as a\nparent it was derived.\n\n\u201cIn estimating the difference,\u201d said John, \u201cbetween Jesus and other\nteachers of divine truth, the fact of deepest significance is, that he was\nborn of a virgin. The soul of man is derived from his father. Jesus Christ\nhad no earthly father; therefore, as to his inmost he was different from\nall other men. He was not some angelic form returning into the flesh, or\nlet down from heaven into it; for that is impossible. And if it were so,\nhis claims to omnipotence, infinity, eternity, the Godhead, would be\npreposterous. No: the soul of Jesus Christ was not introduced into his\nearthly body through the agency or intermediation of any created\nintelligence. His soul is the Divine Life, the Supreme Spirit.\n\n\u201cSeen from this earthly side, Jesus has no father. Seen from the spiritual\nside, he is the Father. Spirits and angels know Him only as the Father.\nThey have never heard the term Son, in the earthly sense, applied to Him.\nThere is no Father beyond him or above him. Here he never prays to the\nFather. Here he is himself recognized as the Father, Jehovah, the I AM.\n\n\u201cThe term Son of God is used in accommodation to the sensuous states of\nthe natural mind. It is peculiar to the earth-life, and cannot rise above\nthe plane which separates the spiritual from the natural. It is only the\nhuman natural mind, divorcing the spiritual from the natural, that sees\nGod in a double form, calling Him when invisible, the Father, and when\nvisible, the Son.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese things are wonderful,\u201d said I; \u201cbut how to explain them to men, who\ncannot think spiritually, however much they may think about spiritual\nthings?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is another and profounder reason,\u201d continued my instructor, \u201cwhy\nJesus speaks of himself on earth as the Son of God, and so frequently\nprays to an invisible Father. By subjecting himself in a finite form to\nthe limitations of time and space, he subjects his own spiritual\nconsciousness, so far as it is united, to obscuration. In his human body\nhe thinks and feels as a finite being, the Son; while at the same moment\nin his spiritual form here He thinks and feels as the Divine Wisdom\nitself.\n\n\u201cThe grand purpose of the incarnation was, to assume a human form in which\nhe could be tempted as we are, in which he could be assaulted by evil\nspirits and devils; in which he could conquer death, hell and the grave,\nand become the Mediator, the Way, the Life and the Resurrection. The\ninfestations of evil ones obscure his mental vision and take away from him\nat times his perception of identity with the Father. Thus he has two\nearthly states of life, one of glorification or spiritual insight, when he\nfeels conscious of his Fatherhood; and one of humiliation, when he is\nsorely tempted and tried, and when he lifts his heart in prayer to that\nFountain of love and light which is the centre of his own infinite bosom.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese things amaze me,\u201d said I, \u201cbeyond expression. Nor do I believe that\nany human being has any true conception of the character of Jesus, of the\nmission he is filling, or of his plan of redemption. Certainly none of the\nthoughts you have communicated to me have ever dawned on the minds of his\ndisciples.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor is it probable,\u201d said John, \u201cthat mankind will be prepared, for many\ncenturies, to understand what can only be comprehended from a spiritual\nstand-point. The least portion of the work of Jesus is apparent to men in\nthe world. The sublime and far more difficult portion is wholly invisible\nto them, as it occurs here in the world of spirits which is not open to\ntheir perception.\u201d\n\nMy angelic friend was about giving me further light on this lofty theme,\nwhen Jesus and the happy multitude that surrounded him seemed to approach\nnearer to us.\n\nMy reader\u2014if this manuscript ever finds a reader\u2014may wonder why I did not\napproach the Divine Man and speak to him, after I had discovered that my\nearthly friend was the Supreme Being manifested in the human form. Ah!\nthey know nothing of the sphere of the Lord! I could not even lift up my\neyes to his feet. I was overwhelmed with wonder and awe. Had not so many\nother spirits been present to engage my attention, to divert my thoughts\nand to impart courage and life to me, I should have swooned and fallen.\n\nOppressed by the heavenly sphere, whose nearer approach I was not prepared\nfor, I seized my father by the hand and he led me away. The scene faded\nbehind us; and we went down into a little green valley filled with small\nwhite flowers and watered by a little brook. There I was freed from the\nterrible sense of oppression, and recovered my composure. We sat down in\nthis valley of humiliation, where the small white flowers were the\ninnocent thoughts of the new life, and the musical voice of the brook was\na hymn of contrition.\n\n\u201cO my father!\u201d said I, \u201cis it always thus in the spiritual world, that the\ndivine sphere of Jesus agitates the mind and pains the heart, so as to\nalmost suffocate the life within us?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen the sphere of heaven approaches those who are in evil and falsity,\u201d\nanswered my father, \u201cit occasions intense pain in their interiors, and\nthey cry out; \u2018Why art thou come hither, O Christ! to torment us?\u2019 Such is\nthe judgment: and the wicked call upon the mountains and the rocks to hide\nthem from the wrath of God.\u201d\n\nThe wrath of God! monstrous conception!\n\nIt is the gentle breath of the Divine Love which is converted into a\nburning fire when it enters the perverted and corrupt forms of their own\nsouls!\n\n\u201cThe same sphere of divine light approaching those who have some remnants\nof good and truth, and who can be saved, produces a profound\nself-abasement, a trembling contrition, a suffocation of the old life with\nall its wicked desires, and an inexpressible longing for a new life of\npurity, peace and love.\u201d\n\nI now understood it all. I felt the self-abasement, the contrition, the\ninexpressible longing. The sun had already disappeared. The sun of the\nspiritual world does not rise and set like ours; but it brightens or pales\nin appearance with the changing states of the spirit. Then shone out\ninnumerable stars in a blue dome, like the friendly faces of cherubim and\nseraphim smiling on us.\n\nAt length the wearied new-comer into the spiritual world passed into that\nmysterious realm of profoundest sleep, which is common to all worlds, and\nin which the unconscious soul is alone with God.\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XVII.\n\n\n                         _JUDGMENT OF THE JEWS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWhen I awoke, the sun was shining through a golden mist: the dew glittered\nlike a rainbow fallen upon the grass and flowers: the air was full of\nsweet odors and the voices of birds: a strange warmth and vigor pervaded\nmy body, and a delightful activity reigned in my soul.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said my father, \u201cthe first awakening thought should be always a\nprayer.\u201d\n\nHe then repeated those beautiful words by which Jesus taught his disciples\nto pray. I will not describe the spiritual phenomena which attended this\nprayer. The multitude of ideas and influxes and perceptions which were\ncrowded into every sentence, would be incomprehensible to men. It seemed\nto be an epitome of the universe, and to bring the soul into loving\ncontact with all the spheres of the divine creation.\n\n\u201cHas Jesus taught that prayer in the world of spirits also?\u201d I inquired.\n\n\u201cYes. This prayer is the universal prayer which binds the heavens and all\nthe angels together. It is the holiest thing of religion. It descends from\nGod to angels and men; and blessed is he who receives it into his heart!\n\n\u201cWe are now ready,\u201d continued my father, \u201cby the divine permission and\nunder the divine protection, to explore some of the evil spheres which\nhave congregated in the world of spirits, and which infuse their deadly\npoisons into men in the world. You will then understand a part of the\ngreat work which Christ is performing in this intermediate state.\u201d\n\nThereupon he examined my face, head and hands with the utmost minuteness.\nA man\u2019s whole life is written upon these; and angels, having a perfect\nknowledge of correspondences, the key of symbolism, can read from them\nyour whole history as from a book.\n\n\u201cI perceived,\u201d said he, \u201cthat in your earth-life you have been brought\ninto contact with the corrupt sphere of the Jewish Church, with the\nsensuousness of Grecian art and philosophy, with the splendors of Roman\nambition, and with the ancient and subtle power of Egyptian magic. You\nhave seen these things on the natural or earthly side. I will show them to\nyou on the spiritual and interior side, so that you may comprehend the\ndreadful condition of the human race, and see the necessity of the Divine\nincarnation.\u201d\n\nThe geography, if we may use the expression, of the world of spirits is\never changing. The Church of the Lord, meaning those who come from the\nworld and possess a divine revelation, always occupies the centre; other\nnations with different religions are arranged in successive zones around\nit; the farthest off in the circumference being those pagans who have\nreceived the least portion of the divine light and life.\n\n\u201cBehold the mutations of the world,\u201d said my father. \u201cThose remotest\npeople, away off in the darkness and cold of the circumference, were once\nthe chosen people of God, his church, occupying the centre, immediately\nunder the down-falling rays of the Divine Sun. They proved faithless to\ntheir trust. They became so evil that a terrible spiritual catastrophe\noverwhelmed them, described as a flood,\u2014for they were engulfed in a flood\nof falsities. They were the antediluvians, of celestial genius, the most\nrichly endowed, the most beautiful of all; and now their descendants, the\nmost hideous and debased, are the black and bronzed barbarians and savages\nof the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are accustomed to think,\u201d said I, \u201cthat those lower types of mankind\nare the last created, and therefore the least perfect.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo! they are the descendants of the first created and most perfect. They\nare not imperfect but degraded types. Imperfect types would progress\nupward and onward by natural law. These barbarians of Africa will never\nmake the least advance until new causes which do not now exist, are put in\noperation. This great mystery of the Divine Providence will not be solved\nfor many, many ages to come.\n\n\u201cAfter the destruction of that antediluvian church, another succeeded,\npossessing a written Word, a splendid ceremonial and boundless treasures\nof spiritual wisdom. They also forfeited their birth-right and betrayed\ntheir trust. Their judgment occurred in this world of spirits when Sodom\nand Gomorrah were destroyed by fire. Abraham and his family were the\nremnant saved from that church for the beginning of a new, as Noah and his\nfamily had been the remnant saved from the preceding.\n\n\u201cThe descendants of this lost church compose chiefly the nationalities of\nAsia. They have remained for ages and will remain for ages to come in a\nstationary, semi-petrified condition, possessing no genuine truth, no\nvital religion, no element of progress; but living upon fables and myths\nwhich are the fragments of spiritual truth, whose interior light has long\nbeen lost to their understandings.\n\n\u201cFor many centuries now of natural time, the Jewish Church has held the\ncentre of the world of spirits. It also has become thoroughly corrupt, and\nis about to be removed to the circumference. Its great judgment is\nimpending; its destruction approaches; but of this, that church itself is\nprofoundly ignorant.\u201d\n\nDuring this conversation we had ascended by insensible degrees to the\nsummit of a high mountain. I was astonished at the splendid panorama\nspread out beneath us. It was the whole land of Canaan, from the Jordan on\nthe east to the borders of Philistia on the west; from Damascus and\nAntioch gleaming away to the north, down to the great desert that frowned\nalong the southern boundary.\n\nImmediately beneath us was a city of Jerusalem, ten times as large as our\nearthly capital; and a holy temple of corresponding proportions, all\ntranscending in glory and grandeur anything ever seen on earth.\n\n\u201cBehold,\u201d said my father, \u201cthe creation of spiritual fantasy, the\nimaginary heaven of the Jews, which will pass away like a scroll at the\nbreath of the Lord when He comes in judgment upon them.\n\n\u201cYou seem astonished,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat spirits should reproduce around\nthemselves these spiritual semblances of the cities and countries they\nhave left behind. Nothing is more simple and rational. These people are\ngross and sensual in their nature, with little or nothing of the celestial\nor spiritual about them. They loved material things exclusively; their\nthoughts never rose above outward, civil, and political affairs. Here\ntheir interior life is reproduced in exteriors. Therefore they create\naround themselves their old homes, cities, and countries; and re-enact, as\nfar as possible, their earthly life, because all their affections and\nthoughts are earthly.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis mountain,\u201d said I, \u201cupon which we are standing puzzles me; for there\nis no similar elevation in the neighborhood of Jerusalem.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis mountain,\u201d answered my father, \u201cis symbolical of the lofty state of\nspiritual pride and presumption in which the Jewish Church now is\u2014a state\nof self-glorification which precedes its judgment and final destruction.\nIt is only from this height, corresponding to their own spiritual state,\nthat you can see the holy city and temple as they appear to them.\n\n\u201cIs it strange that a people, so gross, so unspiritual, so near their\nextinction as a church, should be so inflated with spiritual and\ntheological conceit? They appear in their own eyes to have the most\nglorious city, the most holy church, and the most august ceremonials that\never existed; accounting all others unfit for heaven and unworthy of the\nDivine favor.\n\n\u201cIt was on the pinnacle of that colossal temple which you now see, that\nthe evil spirit placed Jesus, and attempted to infuse into his heart the\narrogant self-glorification of the corrupt priesthood, which imagines\nitself the special care of all the angels of heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe had always supposed that that temptation occurred on the temple in\nJerusalem.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no!\u201d said my father, \u201cthe temptations of the Lord always occur in the\nworld of spirits. Evil spirits do not move around upon the temples and\nmountain-tops of the natural world. The Lord\u2019s spiritual senses were\nopened into this world, which is the scene of his trials, his temptations,\nhis combats with hell; and will be the scene of his final glorification\nand ascension.\u201d\n\n\u201cThese ideas are all new to me,\u201d I said, \u201cbut very rational.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will now see,\u201d my father continued, \u201chow this imaginary heaven of the\nJews, with its proud and worldly magnates, appears in the genuine light of\nheaven. An invisible angel accompanies us, who is commissioned to let in\nthe heavenly light upon these scenes, to show you the internal and real\ncharacter of this church.\u201d\n\nThereupon a ray of white light seemed to shoot down from the zenith. A\nblack cloud immediately arose from the Salt Sea, and spread itself like a\ncanopy over the whole land. Fearful thunderings and red lightnings issued\nfrom the bosom of this terrible cloud. The whole country around became a\ndesolation\u2014a dreary waste full of stone-heaps and pitfalls. The holy city\nsank into the earth; and in its place there rose a great lake, black as a\nmountain tarn unruffled by the wind. Floating in the midst of it was the\ngorgeous temple converted into a huge wooden house or Noah\u2019s ark, from the\ninnumerable windows of which looked out the hideous faces of wild beasts\nand the heads of enormous serpents.\n\nI was at first terrified at these sights; but my father observed:\n\n\u201cThis is a representation, a pictorial prophecy of a reality yet to come,\nbefore Christ has finished his conquering work in the world of spirits.\nThese people do not see the things we see. This heavenly light has come\ninto our minds that we may discover what their interior life really\nis,\u2014devoid of all spiritual vitality; desolate, dark, lurid; full of evil\nbeasts and unclean birds and creeping things.\u201d\n\nThis sphere of ecclesiastical pride and presumption is not peculiar to the\nJewish Church or nation. It is predominant in all religions, churches and\nindividuals, when the religious instincts are satisfied and delighted with\ngrandeur, power, numbers, fashion, wealth and glory.\n\n\u201cWhat will be the effect,\u201d I inquired, \u201cof this disastrous judgment in the\nworld of spirits, upon the Jewish nation in the natural world?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere will be fearful dissensions and conflicts; wars within and without;\nthe city and the temple will be destroyed; the country made desolate; the\npeople scattered as exiles and vagabonds among all nations. Their\ndescendants, coming into the world of spirits, will recede toward the\ncircumference among the pagans. A new church springing up among other\nnations, will take the central place, and give rise upon earth, after\ngreat struggles, to a purer religion and a nobler civilization.\n\n\u201cYou will now see, in symbolic representation, the three great classes\ninto which the Church will be dissolved at its judgment.\u201d\n\nThen there appeared before us a great many domestic animals; oxen, horses,\nasses, camels, sheep, fowls, etc.; all mingled together in confusion, and\nall looking poor, jaded, filthy and wretched.\n\n\u201cThese are the beasts of burden,\u201d said my father; \u201cthe ignorant and\ninnocent masses, presided over by a corrupt and cruel theocracy, which\ndesecrates the name of God by imposing upon his children a spiritual\ndespotism.\n\n\u201cAdvance nearer to these creatures, and you will behold a wonderful sight,\nsuch as can never appear in the natural world, but is common enough in the\nworld of spirits.\u201d\n\nWe came nearer, and lo! all the animals were found to be men and women.\nSome of their forms and faces seemed taken from my memory; for I thought I\nrecognized the crowds which followed Jesus in the world.\n\n\u201cFrom these people,\u201d said my father, \u201cthe remnant will be taken\u2014the\nremnant about which the prophets speak so often. This remnant of Israel,\nstarting with the apostles chosen by Christ, will be the seed and\nstarting-point of a new Church.\n\n\u201cSuch are the forms of those who are interiorly good. Observe now the\nforms of those who are interiorly wicked.\u201d\n\nThe former scene passed away and three wild beasts appeared standing at\nthe mouth of an immense black cavern, in front of which many human bones\nwere scattered. The animals were a wild boar, a wolf and a tiger, all of\ngigantic size and terrible ferocity.\n\nWe advanced nearer to these also, and they changed into men; the wild boar\ninto Caiaphas, the high priest; the wolf into the cunning and cruel\nMagistus; and the tiger into the robber Barabbas. The meaning of this\ntableaux I perceived intuitively without explanation.\n\n\u201cBetween these two extremes,\u201d continued my father, \u201cis a great class who\nare in mixed states of good and evil. Their sufferings will be severe\nbefore they can put off either kind of life so as to live entirely in the\nother; for a separation of good and evil must be effected,\u2014if not upon\nearth, at least in the world of spirits.\u201d\n\nA sandy wilderness then arose to view, in which I saw but two figures; a\nzebra, wild, beautiful, intractable, snuffing proudly the air of the\ndesert; and a white dove which was struggling frantically to escape from\nthe jaws of a monstrous serpent.\n\nThese I approached more eagerly; for I was impelled by an earnest desire\nto caress the beautiful zebra, and to rescue the dove from the fangs of\nthe serpent. They changed also in the twinkling of an eye. The zebra was\nour friend the Son of the Desert, and the dove was Mary Magdalen. As the\nlatter stepped forward, a shining and beautiful woman, the serpent\nshriveled and fell behind her like a black garment cast upon the ground.\n\nAs the last picture faded away, my father resumed his instructions.\n\n\u201cThe scenes you have witnessed are phantasmagoric, but symbolical and full\nof spiritual truth. They illustrate the law of appearances which governs\nin the spiritual world. The phenomenal world around us, animal, vegetable\nand mineral, is all representative of the life within us; not by accident\nor with confusion, but according to fixed and eternal laws.\n\n\u201cThe sphere of life radiates from a spirit like heat from the sun, or like\nperfume from a flower. It flows forth and falls into successive zones or\nbelts of spiritual substance, in each of which it produces some spiritual\nform representative of itself. Outside of his human sphere, the life of a\nspirit takes form in the first zone as an animal, in the second as a\nplanet or flower, in the third as a mineral, a stone, a drop of water, a\ncloud, a star.\n\n\u201cThe life which animates a wicked spirit becomes a corresponding wild\nbeast in the first zone; a loathsome fungus in the second; a poisonous\nmineral in the third. The sweet spiritual life of a good heart becomes the\ninnocent lamb in one zone; the beautiful rose in the next; the brilliant\ngem in the last.\n\n\u201cObserve, however, that each spirit always appears to himself in the human\nform; and always so to others when they are near him. He only takes on\nthese typical or correspondential forms in the eyes of others, when he\nrecedes to or approaches from a distance.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a deep philosophy you are unfolding!\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cI see already in\nwhat you have told me the germs of a thousand brilliant ideas. Oh that I\ncould teach these beautiful things in the porticoes of Athens! How they\nwould ravish the Grecian heart!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken,\u201d said my father. \u201cSome simple soul from whom you least\nexpected it, would accept your doctrines, weeping for joy. The great, the\nrich, the learned, the powerful, would scornfully reject them as fables or\ndreams.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is strange and sad.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014but it is true. The mind which is wedded to falsities in religion or\nphilosophy, is proud, self-reliant, self-satisfied, bigoted and\nintolerant. The genuine truth which makes the soul free, makes it also\nliberal and loving.\u201d\n\n\u201cWill the Jews on earth reject the Messiah, proving his mission as he does\nby stupendous miracles?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes: miracles avail nothing with the unbelieving. Truth is not seen\nmerely because it is truth. No truth is received or seen but that which\ncorresponds to some love in the heart. The hatred which these Jewish\nspirits feel for holy things, will descend by influx into the priests and\nscribes at Jerusalem: and the tender seed of the New Dispensation will be\nsown in darkness and watered with tears and blood.\n\n\u201cDo not suppose,\u201d added my father, \u201cthat spirits and angels have any\nspecial power to foresee the future. Oh no! We only live nearer to the\nFountain of causes, and reason more acutely from cause to effect.\u201d\n\nI treasured these strange things in my mind, having only a faint\nperception of either their truth or value. I was especially surprised at\nthe fact, that a church could actually come to an end, a dispensation be\nspiritually closed and a new one inaugurated, while the adherents of the\nold were in the full flush of power and numbers, and regarded themselves\nas the favored repositories and faithful interpreters of divine truth!\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XVIII.\n\n\n                           _IMAGINARY HEAVENS._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nAfter these things we were taken up another high mountain, whence we had a\nview of all the kingdoms in the world of spirits at once. Hither it was\nthat Jesus was carried by the evil spirit who offered him all this power\nand glory, if he would fall down and worship him. There is no mountain in\nthe natural world from which such an outlook were possible.\n\n\u201cThis great height,\u201d said my father, \u201crepresents the infernal sphere of\nself-aggrandizement, which aspires to universal dominion. It is that\nambition which corrodes the heart with envious passion so long as anything\nremains unconquered. This spirit is common to nations and individuals, to\nthe greatest and the least. This mountain rears its awful summit in every\nhuman breast. This is the spiritual mountain which is to be cast into the\nsea by faith.\u201d\n\nLooking down, I now beheld a city of Rome as before I had seen a city of\nJerusalem. Beautiful, shadowy pictures of cities, homes of spirits, vastly\nmagnified and made glorious with ethereal colors! Man cannot imagine the\nsplendid creations which spirits can instantaneously produce from the\nplastic substance of the spiritual world. These cities and countries,\nhowever, are peculiar to the intermediate state. They do not exist in\nheaven.\n\nThe Romans risen from the dead had reconstructed their imperial city of\nprecious stones, so that it always shone from afar as if some grand\nillumination were going on, whose splendors were again reflected from the\nclouds which floated above it.\n\nWe looked into this marvelous city, its capital and palaces, its temples\nand amphitheatres. The great avenues were crowded with a vast and gorgeous\nprocession. Many kings and queens and nobles were walking in chains,\nbrought as prisoners from so many conquered countries. The treasures of\nthese plundered captives were borne by thousands of slaves of all colors\nand nationalities, in massive and curiously-carved vessels of gold and\nsilver. Specimens of wild animals from all regions of the Roman world,\ndrawn in gilded cages, and of the more wonderful plants and flowers\ncarried upon the shoulders of men, and screened from the sun by flaming\ncanopies of silk, added to the picturesqueness and grandeur of the scene.\n\nThe Roman senators, generals and magnates were seen heading the different\ndivisions of this vast multitude, riding in blazing chariots drawn by\nsuperb horses richly caparisoned. On both sides of the captives marched\nthe victorious armies of Rome; so that the very air above them was golden\nwith the flash of helmets, spears and shields, and the gleam of Roman\neagles.\n\nThese were the spirits of that vain-glorious and indomitable race who had\nchanged the geography of the natural world, and were now celebrating their\nvictories with transcendent magnificence in the intermediate state. The\nsphere of their interior character was wafted to my spiritual perceptions,\nand I felt as I did in the Hall of Apollo when Hortensius and his guests\nfixed their haughty and contemptuous gaze upon Anthony and myself.\n\n\u201cHow unutterably base, cruel and sensual,\u201d exclaimed my father, \u201cis the\nspirit of man when he loves himself supremely, and overreaches and\noverrides his fellow-creatures. Behold the spiritual side to this\nmagnificent exterior!\u201d\n\nThereupon the light from a higher sphere streamed down, and the pomp, the\nglory, the beauty of the whole scene disappeared. We beheld a vast crowd\nof beggars in filthy rags, and a confused heap of low buildings made of\nmud and straw. The proud and fierce Romans were all slaves themselves,\nwearing long chains and driven by infernal spirits in the shape of\ngrinning apes. Where the Capitol had stood, appeared a pool of\nblood-colored water, in which a dragon of hideous dimensions lay, spouting\nfrom his mouth a stream of fire. A lurid twilight hung over all,\nprognosticating a wild and tempestuous night.\n\n\u201cSuch,\u201d said my father, \u201cwill be the fate of ambition when the Lord comes\nin judgment. Let us now descend to a lower region, and see a people\ngreater than these, but who have sunk into darker depths; a people now\ndestitute of spiritual pride or civil ambition; a degenerate, effeminate,\ncorrupt race, dead to all genuine and ennobling aspirations, and immersed\nlike beasts in the life of the senses.\u201d\n\nWe seemed to go down to the sea-coast\u2014for the blue ocean girdles also the\nworld of spirits. Soon we came into the sphere of the Grecian souls who\nhad risen from the dead, and who had reconstructed about them, according\nto spiritual laws, their own charming and ethereal country. The scene was\nnot far from Athens, whose marble-crowned Acropolis gleamed in the\ndistance, with clouds more beautiful than itself floating above it.\n\nThe poetic faculty, full of the inspiration of Grecian art, can alone\nappreciate what I next witnessed. The Hall of Apollo in the palace of\nHortensius was a beggarly chamber in comparison with this great hall of\nnature in which Pan presided, and in which earth, sky and ocean had each\nits part. The guests also of the luxurious Roman were mere schoolboys in\ncomparison with the august assembly before us, which was gathered to a\nfeast in the imaginary heaven of the Greeks.\n\nWe seemed to be standing on a hill that sloped and fell by beautiful green\nterraces down to the silver beach of a placid sea. The summit of that hill\nwas long, broad and level, and crowned with a grove of extraordinary\nbeauty. The trees were far apart, and rose like emerald columns to a great\nheight before they branched. Their foliage was pruned and led by threads\nof invisible wire to intertwine overhead, forming a delicate arch for a\nroof. The ground was carpeted with an inwrought tissue of living flowers,\nwhich yielded elastically to the tread, sending up continually a delicious\nperfume.\n\nIn this immense grove were spread a thousand tables seemingly of solid\nprecious stones, and crowned with great vases of wine and cups of crystal,\nand adorned with ethereal fruits and flowers. At these tables were seated\nor reclining thousands and thousands of the ancient heroes and heroines of\nGreece, served by thousands of beautiful nymphs, Dryads and Naiads, who\nhad left the woods and the waters to bestow their charms on these happy\nsouls.\n\nThe gods and goddesses were also in attendance; for heaven and earth were\nthrown together in such admirable confusion that each partook the\nqualities of the other. The sky and the air were literally full of\ndivinities. On a rose-and-purple cloud condensed into a throne, and\nlowered half-way between the ceiling and the floor, sat Venus, crowned\nwith myrtles and presiding at the feast. The Graces were kneeling at her\nfeet, while her swans and doves were grouped about her. Near by stood\nCupid twanging his bow, and laughing at the sight of his empty quiver; for\nevery heart in the crowd had been pierced by one of his golden arrows.\n\nLooking out to the sea, we saw Neptune, of colossal proportions, riding in\nhis chariot constructed of shells, and drawn by horses with brazen hoofs\nand gilded manes. Myriads of sea-nymphs and sea-monsters sported and\ngamboled about him, sometimes in the air, sometimes on the shining surface\nof the deep.\n\nIn mid-sky Apollo in person drove the chariot of the sun, attended by the\nMuses and the flying Hours. In the west, Iris the messenger of Juno,\nplanted her rainbow on a passing cloud, and smiled in colors to the world.\nAfar off, in the east, the Seasons had opened the massive Gates of Cloud,\nand we had a glimpse of the old Olympian gods in conclave august, feasting\nupon ambrosial food.\n\nThousands of these beautiful figures were nude; and I saw the spiritual\nmodels which had inspired and immortalized Grecian art. Thousands also\nwere draped, and with such infinite variety and beauty, that it seemed no\nwork of human ingenuity, but as if Nature herself had invested them with\nher forms and colors.\n\n\u201cOh, my father!\u201d said I excitedly, \u201csurely this is real; this is heaven.\nThese things will not vanish also, or change into something hideous and\nterrible.\u201d\n\nA shade of sadness came over my father\u2019s face; for he saw that the subtile\nand powerful sphere of this Grecian nature-worship had awakened the\nactivities of my own sensuous life.\n\n\u201cYes, my son; these are phantasms. These are wicked Grecian spirits who\nare personating their gods and goddesses, their heroes and heroines. You\nsee before you what wonders spirits can achieve by magic and fantasy. This\nis the sphere which flows into and governs the present population of\nGreece. These spirits would, if they could, obsess and control the human\nrace. The interior state of these souls is terrible.\u201d\n\n\u201cO, do not show it to me yet,\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cLet me contemplate a little\nlonger this marvelous scene.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen all these spirits are judged,\u201d continued my father, \u201cand cast out of\nthe world of spirits, the Greece and Rome of the natural world will become\nfeeble and death-stricken. Their oracles will become silent; their arts\nwill fail; their glory perish; their civilization decay. Their very\nlanguages will die. Their exact modes of thought will no more be possible\nto men. Ages of bondage and darkness will ensue, after the light they have\nperverted and the liberty they have profaned.\u201d\n\nI scarcely heard these last words; for the vast assembly of gods and men,\nwhich had been in comparative repose, became suddenly animated by a wild\nexcitement. There issued from the cool and leafy forests on all sides a\ncrowd of beautiful nymphs headed by Diana, resplendent as a statue of\npearl, clad in an apron of green leaves and flowers, and with a\nconstellation of fire-flies in her hair.\n\nHer merry troop of nymphs, arrayed like herself, were flying in affected\nfear from the jolly god Bacchus, who appeared in pursuit, crowned with\nvine leaves and berries and drawn by his Indian tigers striped with ebony\nand gold. He was followed by a rabble rout of Fauns and Satyrs and\nbacchanalian revelers, male and female. This beautiful chaos threw itself\npell-mell, reeling and whirling and dancing, shouting and singing, into\nthe midst of the brilliant assembly.\n\nA scene of the wildest carnival followed. The heroes and heroines caught\nthe contagious frenzy, and soon all were entangled in the embraces of the\nmaddest dance that ever was witnessed. Neptune and his water-nymphs sprang\nhigh into the air to view the scene; and all the deities in Olympus\ncrowded down to the Gates of Cloud, which they illumined afar off by the\nsun-like radiance of their presence.\n\nI was gazing on this scene with the utmost astonishment, when my eyes fell\nsuddenly upon Helena, the beautiful daughter of Calisthenes.\n\n\u201cMy father,\u201d said I, with profound emotion, \u201cdo you not see that superb\nfigure of a woman more beautiful than all these goddesses, leaning against\nyonder tree and clapping her hands with delight at the drunken Bacchus\nmaking love to Venus? That is Helena of Athens! the dream of my life, the\nidol of my soul.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot so,\u201d said my father, \u201cit is a phantasm\u2014a spirit resembling your\nearthly Helena; perhaps some cunning Syren who has assumed her form to\nallure you to herself.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d said I, \u201cimpossible!\u201d feasting my eyes and heart on the lovely\napparition.\n\n\u201cEvery one,\u201d continued my monitor, \u201cfresh from the natural world, who\nenters this magical and fantastic sphere, sees, or thinks he sees, some\nwondrous woman, whom he declares to be the idol and dream of his soul.\nBeware, my son, of these seductive emotions. The light of heaven will\ndispel for us all these illusions.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d said I, wildly, \u201cit cannot; it must not. This, this, is heaven,\nand all else is illusion.\u201d\n\nMy heart beat with passionate fervor, and I sprang forward to meet my\nbeloved. My father suddenly disappeared from my sight! In the spiritual\nworld, when two persons enter into totally different states of thought and\nfeeling, they mutually vanish from each other\u2019s sight. Heaven and hell are\nthus separated, and the existence of each is even unknown to the other. I\nnoticed the fact that my father had vanished; but I cared nothing about\nit, for my infatuated soul thought only of Helena.\n\nI advanced toward her. She turned upon me a look of beautiful recognition;\nand stretching out her ivory arms, exclaimed with a sun-burst of her old\nbewitching smiles:\n\n\u201cMy boy-lover of Bethany! welcome! I thought I had killed you with love!\u201d\n\n\u201cThen love me back into life!\u201d I exclaimed.\n\nWhen an appalling change came suddenly over all things. The light of\nheaven streamed down upon me, and those other lights were turned into\nshadows, the beauty into ugliness, the joy into horror, life into death.\nThe deities became phantom skeletons grinning as they fled away into the\ndarkness. The men assumed the forms of filthy swine or goats, and the\nwomen those of writhing vipers. The charming creature into whose delicate\narms I was about throwing myself, became a scaly serpent of frightful\nsize. I fell swooning to the ground, with the terrible sensations of one\nwho is falling headlong from a precipice into the sea.\n\nI returned slowly and painfully to consciousness, like one who has had a\nlong sleep and harassing dreams, and finds it difficult to pick up the\nfallen thread of his yesterday\u2019s life. I found myself pillowed on a soft\ngreen bank in a delicious atmosphere of repose. Without opening my eyes I\nreverted to all that had happened, and a feeling of desolation came over\nme, and a sense of deep shame and contrition. What a revelation of the\nsensual affinities of my own interior nature! What blindness! What\nmadness! Alas! how low had I fallen! I was afraid to meet my father and\nthe good John. I was wretched.\n\nMy meditations were interrupted by the voice of some one near me, singing\nin low sweet tones, pervaded by a certain divine sadness, the beautiful\nwords of Scripture:\n\n  \u201cRejoice not against me, O mine enemy:\n  When I fall I shall arise:\n  When I sit in darkness\n  The Lord shall be a light unto me.\u201d\n\nThen another voice overhead, clearer, more thoughtful, more musical than\nthe first, sang sweetly:\n\n  \u201cJehovah upholdeth all that fall,\n  And raiseth up all who are bowed down.\u201d\n\nThereupon the first voice near me proceeded in the same low sweet tones\nfull of sadness:\n\n  \u201cBut as for me, my feet were almost gone,\n  My steps had well nigh slipped.\u201d\n\nThe higher, nobler voice continued the heavenly consolations of Scripture:\n\n  \u201cNevertheless I am ever with thee!\u201d\n\nThe voices, the music, the refrain, the holy words of the Psalmist,\nstirred in the tenderest manner the very depths of my soul. I wept. A new\nfaith, a new hope, a new divine resolution were born within me.\n\nLike a singer who has been overcome with emotion, but dries her tears and\nresumes her singing,\u2014the sadness overshadowed by a modest courage,\u2014the\nfirst voice was heard again:\n\n  \u201cThou hast held me by my right hand,\n  Thou shalt guide me by thy counsel,\n  And afterward shalt receive me into glory.\u201d\n\nThen there was a burst of divine music as from a hidden choir of angels,\nin which the two voices joined; and this was the hymn:\n\n        \u201cThe Lord is my Shepherd;\n        I shall not want:\n  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;\n  He leadeth me beside the still waters;\n        He restoreth my soul!\u201d\n\nThe strains died softly away, lingering long on my charmed ear and leaving\nmy heart in a sacred calm.\n\nI prayed with intense earnestness:\n\n\u201cFrom self-love and the love of the world; from self-righteousness,\npresumption and hypocrisy; from pride, ambition and sensuality; all of\nwhich I have seen so fearfully unmasked:\n\n\u201cGood Lord! deliver me.\u201d\n\nI opened my eyes, and my father and the seraph-faced forerunner of Jesus\nstood before me.\n\nThe latter took my hand tenderly in his own, and said:\n\n\u201cAll the experiences of life, both in the world of men and in the world of\nspirits, are given to teach us the difference between good and evil,\nbetween the true and the false; to show us the deformity of sin and the\nbeauty of holiness; to deliver our souls from the bondage of hell, and\nlift them into the peace of heaven.\u201d\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XIX.\n\n\n                         _THE MAGICIANS IN HELL._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWe had then a long conversation about the mysteries of regeneration or the\nnew birth, scarcely any of which are known to mankind, or would be\nbelieved if they were revealed. This knowledge is so peculiarly spiritual\nand angelic that it seems useless for me to say anything about it. If a\nchurch on earth ever comprehends these divine arcana, it will only be when\nthe Lord sees fit to open his heavens anew, and to unfold the spiritual\nmeaning of his Word.\n\n\u201cYou have now seen,\u201d said my father, \u201cthe three great spheres which\nrepresent the three degrees of the human mind. That Jesus Christ met and\nresisted the powers of hell in all these spheres, is shown in his\ntemptations in the wilderness. By conquering these evil spheres in his\nhuman form and through his divine power, He is enabled henceforth to\ndeliver all men from similar infestations. This was the great purpose of\nhis incarnation. His temptation will appear to men as an historical event\nenacted at a certain time and space. To angels it seems a condensed\nstatement of his whole spiritual life, of his entire redemptive work, from\nthe assumption of humanity to his final and perfect glorification.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is the devil,\u201d said I, \u201cthat was capable of tempting the Holy One so\nseverely?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe devil is no single individual, but the whole combined evil world,\nspeaking and acting through one medium. You seem surprised; but nothing is\nmore common in the spiritual world than for a whole society of spirits,\neven millions in number, to think, feel, and express themselves\nsimultaneously through one of their number.\n\n\u201cDo you not remember that when Jesus asked a certain maniac his name, the\ndevil within him replied:\n\n\u201c\u2018My name is Legion: for we are many.\u2019\u201d\n\nThis led to the strange subject of demoniac possession. I told my father\nthat the Greek philosophers and physicians, who were considered the\nprofoundest thinkers in the world, scouted the idea of evil spirits taking\npossession of men. They attributed all such cases to the effect of\nphysical disease.\n\n\u201cThey know nothing whatever,\u201d said my guide, \u201cof the relation between\nspirit and matter. Their philosophy of man, history, and nature is\nsuperficial and false. Their boasted light is darkness to our spiritual\nperceptions, and their scientific verbiage the merest babble.\n\n\u201cIt is true, my son, that devils are continually aspiring to break through\nfrom hell into the world of spirits; and by means of evil spirits in this\nworld, especially those fresh from the earth, to possess and govern men in\nthe natural world. If the divine hand were not put forth to arrest this\ninflux of hell into the world of nature, three centuries would not elapse\nbefore all mankind would be imbecile or insane, and would destroy each\nother like wild beasts.\u201d\n\n\u201cMankind,\u201d said I, \u201care totally ignorant of the fearful dangers which hang\nover them.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course they are. These dangers come from the unseen spiritual side.\nThey know nothing and believe nothing of the unseen.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you tell me anything of the spiritual philosophy of magic?\u201d\n\n\u201cA sphere inconceivably subtle and wicked! It obtained its first foothold\nin Egypt ages before the historic period, and has penetrated thence, under\ndifferent forms and names, into all the countries of the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe had some painful experiences with it soon after your departure from\nthe natural world; but my philosophic studies at Athens led me to suppose\nthat magic was an imposture based upon absurd superstitions.\u201d\n\n\u201cMagic, my son, is at present a fearful reality. It is the means by which\nthe wicked can summon around them the worst spirits, and obtain control\nover man and nature. By its means they can overcome physical obstacles;\ncan see and hear at incredible distances; can produce dreams and\nillusions; can make one thing appear another; effect transformations which\nseem miraculous; call up the spirits of the dead; take absolute possession\nof the fancy and the will; and control their victim in all his thoughts\nand actions. They can give wise answers and frequently foretell future\nevents. They can imitate good and heavenly things with such marvelous\naccuracy, as to impose themselves as illumined teachers and prophets upon\nmankind.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow could such a fearful thing have originated? Whence is its power?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the perversion and profanation of holy things; from the abuse of the\nknowledge of correspondence, which is the secret bond between spirit and\nmatter, and for that reason is now concealed from mankind. When the sons\nof Aaron put strange fire upon the altar of the Lord, they were consumed.\nWhen the sons of the prophet shred the wild vine into the pot, there was\ndeath in the pottage. That strange fire, that wild vine is magic. Magic is\nthe perversion of truth\u2014the science and the religion of hell.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you foresee the future of this terrible power?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014so far as we can infer that certain material effects must flow in\ntime from certain spiritual causes. The great judgment which Christ is now\nexecuting in this world of spirits, will cast all these magical powers\ninto hell and shut them up for ever. This is a part of the saving work of\nthe Redeemer. He delivers men, not from the punishment but from the\nbondage of sin. Magic will then cease upon earth. The fragments and\nshadows of it may annoy mankind for ages; but its central power will have\nbeen bruised and broken, and it will become such barefaced superstition,\ntrickery, and sleight-of-hand, that future generations will find it\ndifficult to believe that it ever was anything else.\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d he added; \u201cI am permitted to show you one of the old Egyptians at\nhis work.\u201d\n\nWe now descended into a dark cavern which appeared on our left, but which\nI had not noticed before. It sloped downward, with ragged black rocks\nprotruding from its walls. The atmosphere was at first so stifling that I\ncould hardly proceed. We emerged after a while into a level country under\na sky of a dark gray color. A blood-red sun, never setting, stood low in\nthe west, casting a lurid light over all things. Our path was along the\nbank of a large river, moving sluggishly and darkly between gigantic reeds\nand rushes. Huge crocodiles and monstrous beasts I had never seen before,\nlay here and there, half in the mud and half in the water. Away in the\ndistance rose many colossal forms, pyramids, sphynxes, obelisks, palaces,\ntemples\u2014vast shadows as it were against the sky. Now and then we passed a\nstatue of stone or bronze, higher than the tallest trees, and so sad,\nstern and lifelike, it was difficult not to believe that it was the lost\nsoul of some old Egyptian king, doomed to perpetual misery in the outward\nform of eternal repose.\n\n\u201cYou must know,\u201d said my father, \u201cthat to enable us to enter these awful\ngateways of hell, an invisible guard of thousands of angels is necessary.\u201d\n\nI was relieved by this thought; for a sensation of fear had already begun\nto oppress me. I had learned enough of the spiritual world to know that\nall this wild and grotesque scenery was the outbirth of the life and\nmemories of evil spirits, and could be dissipated in a moment, or changed\ninto something horrible by the revealing light of heaven.\n\nWe now came to a great palace which seemed built of ebony, with\nfoundations, doors, and cornices of bronze. The gates leading to its\ncourtyard were of immense size, and constructed of dingy brass. A strange\ninscription ran across the arch, which I asked my father to interpret.\n\n\u201cThat,\u201d said he, \u201cis the Ten Commandments reversed, representing the laws\nwhich govern in this evil sphere. Much of it is too dim for one to read;\nbut see!\n\n\u201cThou shalt kill.\n\n\u201cThou shalt steal.\n\n\u201cThou shalt commit adultery.\u201d\n\n\u201cHold!\u201d said I, \u201cwhat profanation! what blasphemy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my son! Hell is the opposite of heaven.\u201d\n\nThe courtyard was laid out in curious geometric figures, and adorned with\nmany extraordinary plants and flowers, but mainly of yellow and purple\nhues.\n\n\u201cFlowers at the doorway of hell! I thought that flowers were the children\nof heaven, the fragments of divine wisdom showered upon men in the\ndisguise of beautiful forms, fragrances and colors.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo they are,\u201d said my father; \u201cand the floral kingdom here is antipodal\nto the floral kingdom in heaven; the concentration of all that is\nmalignant and baleful in the thoughts and feelings of the inhabitants of\nthat doleful place.\u201d\n\nI shuddered as I passed these infernal flowers; and we mounted the iron\nsteps of the palace, walking between the statues of two great brazen bulls\nas we entered the hall.\n\nA servant came forward to receive us, of such hideous form that I started\nback in terror. He was nearly naked, and thousands of hieroglyphic figures\nhad been burned into his body in black and red colors. His face was the\nface of an embalmed person, long dead, shriveled and ghastly.\n\nWhile we were speaking to this frightful personage, a hoarse, sepulchral\nvoice issued from a half-open door:\n\n\u201cBring them in. I have felt their coming.\u201d\n\nWe passed into a chamber of immense size,\u2014for everything in the shadowy\nworld seemed to me colossal. I instantly perceived that it was the\ncounterpart of the chamber of magic in the house of Magistus, so minutely\ndescribed to me by my sister Martha.\n\n\u201cBehold the source of inspiration to Simon Magus!\u201d said I to myself.\n\nI recognized all the objects mentioned by the eyewitnesses of that\nremarkable scene between Simon and the magicians; the marble platform; the\nblack table with the zodiac upon it; the images on the wall. Even the\nleopard and serpent were there. The magician was an old man,\nstern-featured, cruel-eyed, worn and wasted, with some personal\nresemblance to Simon Magus.\n\n\u201cI have had violent pains about my heart and difficult breathing,\u201d said\nthe evil spirit slowly, \u201cever since you entered my kingdom. I know who you\nare and who protects you. Your presence tortures me; so be brief with your\nmission. I will answer you truthfully, for the experience of ages has\ntaught me that it is useless to resist that sphere. Be quick and release\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d said my father, \u201cis one of the magicians of Egypt, who imitated\nthe miracles of Moses and Aaron. He is the most cunning and powerful of\nthe species.\u201d\n\nAddressing the magician, he continued:\n\n\u201cI am instructing this novitiate spirit who accompanies me, in the\nrelation between the spiritual and the natural worlds. I have told him\nthat all false and evil things are breathed into men by wicked spirits:\nthat magic is the science of evil springing from the perversion of good,\nand a means by which you attempt to govern men.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak truly,\u201d said the evil spirit, rubbing his hands with glee; \u201cyou\nspeak truly. Our power is immense: our wisdom is incredible. We have\nvastly more influence over men than the angels. You have heard of the\nwitch of Endor who brought Samuel from the dead. We can reverse that\nwonderful art. We can bring those living upon earth into our presence. I\nwill show you one of my favorite slaves, a fellow of great capacity and\nboundless ambition; a genius worthy of the grand inspiration with which I\nanimate his soul.\u201d\n\nThereupon his servant unrolled a great white curtain against the wall. The\nspirit went through sundry unintelligible incantations: and slowly the\nperfect portrait of Simon Magus appeared before our eyes.\n\n\u201cHe seems to be in a paroxysm of rage,\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d answered the spirit. \u201cHe derived it from me a few moments ago. I\nwas foaming with passion just before you entered my palace: and now the\nfury is expending itself on him.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe evil passions of men,\u201d said my father, \u201chave previously passed\nthrough the dark and filthy souls of evil spirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cHa! ha! ha!\u201d laughed the magician. \u201cMy victim thinks it is original with\nhimself. Indeed, the deluded fellow believes he controls me and a vast\nnumber of other spirits. The merest tool in our hands, the dull, slow\nmachine through which we work our fiery wills, our stupendous plans; he\nconceives himself to be possessed of miraculous power! Men who think they\ncontrol spirits, are always controlled by them. Ha! ha! ha!\u201d\n\n\u201cBeware,\u201d said my father; \u201care your own inspirations original? Have you\never heard of Ja-bol-he-moth?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014and seen him,\u201d he answered trembling.\n\n\u201cAlas! alas!\u201d he added slowly and painfully. \u201cWe govern men from our\nstand-point: but there are deeper and more direful hells that govern us.\nWe are slaves also.\n\n\u201cOh! if Ja-bol-he-moth,\u201d he suddenly exclaimed with a fierce earnestness,\n\u201cif Ja-bol-he-moth and other great antediluvian giants could only escape\nfrom their imprisonment, we would soon transform the whole earth to our\nliking.\u201d\n\n\u201cUnhappy spirit!\u201d said I, \u201cdo you find pleasure in the contemplation of\nsuch a thought?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe only pleasure that is left me,\u201d he replied; and passed into a frigid\nstate with a deadly, stony stare, more like a statue than a man.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said my father, \u201cour sphere has paralyzed him. I have one more\nstrange thing to show you before we return to the world of spirits.\u201d\n\nWe left the ebony palace; and turning from the dark river with its\ncolossal reeds and rushes, we passed into a wilderness of sand, over which\nhung a gloomier twilight than any we had before witnessed.\n\nPresently there appeared before us a great black dome of iron, reaching\nacross the horizon from east to west, and sloping upward from the sand\neven to the sky. The blackness, the immensity, the gloom of this strange\nobject cast a fearful shadow on my soul.\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d said my father with deep solemnity, \u201cis the tomb of the\nantediluvian world, which none can open or shut but Christ. In the\nterrible abysses underneath are imprisoned the evil spirits whose judgment\nis described in the Scriptures as a flood. Unless the Messiah had come in\nthe flesh, this antediluvian sphere would have broken forth and deluged\nthe world of spirits and the world of men.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat would be the consequence?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cThe total suffocation of the spiritual life, as the natural life is\nsuffocated by drowning; a complete torpor of the moral sense, a paralysis\nof the intellectual faculties. Mankind would relapse into barbarism. The\nphysical system would degenerate. The skin would become black and fetid;\nthe hair woolly, the nose flat, the forehead low and debased. One step\nmore, and from barbarians men would become beasts.\n\n\u201cThis process of degeneration had already made sad havoc with a large\nportion of the human race, when the closure of the antediluvian hells and\nthe institution of a new order of things arrested its march. So the\nAfrican now stands torpid, unprogressive, sensual, barbaric, bearing on\nhis very body the typical shadows of hell.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs there no hope for him?\u201d said I, sadly,\u2014for my mind reverted to my\ntrusty friends, Ethopus and Anthony.\n\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d said my father, \u201cJehovah is good to all, and his tender mercies\nare over all his works.\n\n\u201cThe Lord in the form of a Divine Man will close these ancient hells and\nbeat back the waves of evil. Great organic changes will go in the\nspiritual and natural worlds. In the far-off ages there will be a last\njudgment in the world of spirits and a new church upon earth. New causes\nwill be set in operation; and these Africans at last will be delivered\nfrom their hereditary curse, and restored to the form of beauty and wisdom\nwhich their ancestors enjoyed in the beginning of the world.\u201d\n\nI rejoiced at this glorious prophecy. And while thinking of the tender and\nnoble emotions which seemed to govern the only Africans I had ever known,\nwe ascended into the world of spirits, whose beautiful and peace-giving\nlight I hailed with unspeakable pleasure.\n\n\u201cHow little the inhabitants of earth know,\u201d said I, to myself, \u201cof the\nspiritual philosophy of history!\u201d\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XX.\n\n\n                           _FRIENDS IN HEAVEN._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nHeaven is above the world of spirits, as the latter is above the earth.\nThe way to heaven is through the world of spirits; but it is not reached\nby a process of death, but by a process of preparation. We are prepared\nfor heaven by putting off the evils and falsities and imperfections that\nwe carry with us from the natural world. We are then taught to feel, think\nand act in unison and love with thousands and millions of other beings. It\ntakes a long time and a great deal of instruction in the world of spirits\nto bring some people to this degree of social development.\n\nThe harmony of souls in heaven is like that of an immense choir of music.\nEach has a distinct part, and each must be perfect in his part. Imagine\nthousands of good and pure spirits living in choirs of thought, choirs of\nfeeling, choirs of acting; and you will begin to have a faint idea of the\norder, peace, beauty and felicity of the social life in heaven.\n\nNew-comers into the world of spirits are always anxious to be admitted\ninto heaven. There is a process by which they can be elevated into\nheavenly societies, and shown the wonders and glories of the celestial\nlife. This favor is extended to all, and their legitimate curiosity is\ngratified. They then return into the world of spirits for judgment and\npreparation, and to undergo those organic changes which are necessary to a\npermanent residence in the higher spheres.\n\nI was delighted to hear my father say that I had been unconsciously\nprepared for this wonderful journey. Walking along with a glad heart,\nengaged in pleasant conversation about the difference between the world of\nspirits and heaven, I suddenly perceived a beautiful road ascending a\nmountain deeply shaded with overhanging trees and bordered with brilliant\nflowers.\n\n\u201cThis is our way,\u201d said my father. \u201cThe roads which lead out of the world\nof spirits, either up into heaven or down into hell, are invisible to all\nbut those who have been prepared to follow them. There is no danger of any\none going astray. No mistakes are made here; no revelations but to the\nproper parties. All the art and cunning of Simon Magus or his master\ndemons could not enable them to discover this little road leading up into\nthe heaven where our loved ones reside.\u201d\n\nHow easy, how buoyant, how charming was that ascent! No fatigue, no hurry,\nno impatience, no terrestrial sensations. Our bodies seemed to grow\nlighter and stronger, and our minds clearer and happier as we ascended.\nThe air grew fresher and sweeter; the trees and flowers more beautiful;\nthe sky softer and more brilliant. As we neared the summit we saw the most\nexquisite green lawns and terraces, which seemed to have been dipped in a\ngolden ether. Here and there was a flock of sheep. Now a swarm of pearl\nand crimson butterflies would sport around us; and then a flock of birds\nlike little flying rainbows would illumine the air.\n\n\u201cThese things,\u201d said my father, \u201care typical of the thoughts and\naffections of the blessed people whose homes we are approaching.\u201d\n\nThe vista from the summit exceeded in magnificence and beauty everything I\nhad ever imagined. There were two interminable series of green knolls, one\non the right hand and the other on the left, separated by a charming\nlittle valley with the softest, brightest verdure I had ever seen. On\nevery knoll was a resplendent palace built of precious stones. The grand\nrainbow-like illumination produced by these mineral splendors flashing in\nthe sun, is altogether indescribable. Away in the east where the palaces\nseemed to approach each other, the view was terminated by a great temple\nresembling the temple at Jerusalem, and shining like a gem in the\ndistance.\n\nThe valley between these palaces was laid out in lawns, parks and gardens,\nadorned with flowers, statues, fountains, lakes, and picturesque walks and\narbors. These things are common enough on earth; but here each of them\nexceeded the corresponding earthly form in all the elements of artistic\nbeauty, as much as the most precious diamond in the world exceeds the\ncommonest pebble on the sea-shore.\n\nThis was the heaven of a society of angels, all belonging to the tribe of\nBenjamin, and all interiorly united by similar thoughts and affections.\nNow for the first time I learned that all angels were once men upon our\nearth or some other; that the physical universe is the indestructible\nbasis of the spiritual; and that all things first receive root and form\nand substance in the former, to rise and expand indefinitely, in the\nlatter. The earth is the footstool of the Lord, and is established for\never.\n\nI now noticed that I had on different garments from those I had worn in\nthe world of spirits, and much more beautiful.\n\n\u201cThese garments are given you,\u201d said my father, \u201cto adapt you to the\nsphere which you have entered. We are clothed here imperceptibly to\nourselves, as the trees and flowers in the natural world are clothed with\nforms and colors by a generous nature. All our external things arise\nspontaneously around us, without our thought or care or labor, being\nperfect correspondences and mirrors of the things within us.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere is the home of your brother,\u201d said he; and we stood before a palace\nof marvelous splendor. Twelve steps of lustrous pearl led up to a grand\npiazza covered with a dazzling arch and supported by twelve columns of\ngold. We entered the spacious hall, and before I had time to observe its\nbeauties, a youthful spirit advanced, strongly resembling my father; and\nwith a face full of light and love, and a voice overflowing with kindness,\nwelcomed me to that little spot, as he called it, of the Lord\u2019s spiritual\nkingdom.\n\n\u201cYou shall see me as I used to be,\u201d he said \u201cand then you will know me\nbetter.\u201d\n\nThereupon he underwent the same series of spiritual changes by which my\nfather revealed himself to me as the poor old leper of the wilderness. He\nreturned into the states and forms of his boyhood, as a full-blown rose\nmight shut, leaf after leaf, contracting itself slowly into a beautiful\nbud again. He was the same little Samuel who sported with my sisters and\nmyself in our garden in Bethany, and whose withdrawal from us had left so\ndark a cloud on the sunny places of our childhood.\n\nReassuming his angelic form while I gazed at him with admiration and joy,\nhe pointed to a chamber, the half-open door of which was one superb\ncrystal. From it there issued a beautiful female form, clad in a silk robe\nof lustrous white. Her face was radiant with smiles and beauty, and a\nsingle rose was in her hair. The extreme gentleness and gracefulness of\nher movements, her manners, her tones, revealed the pure soul of this\nbright angel.\n\n\u201cBehold my wife!\u201d said my brother.\n\nBewildered and delighted, I pressed timidly a brotherly kiss upon her\ncheek, and said:\n\n\u201cThis is to me the greatest wonder of all in this realm of wonders.\nMarried in heaven! Husbands and wives living together in wedded bliss!\nEnlighten my darkness; tell me something of this great and beautiful\nmystery.\u201d\n\n\u201cI perceive,\u201d said my brother, seriously, \u201cby the glance of your eye and\nthe tone of your voice, that you cannot yet be initiated into the sublime\nand heavenly secrets of the spiritual marriage. You have not been\nsufficiently divested of your earthly and sensuous state of thought to\npenetrate those truths which are only visible in the light of heaven. Be\nsatisfied for the present to know that sex and marriage are universal and\neternal; that love is inextinguishable, and becomes purer and holier the\nhigher it rises; and that conjugal pairs live together in heaven in\neternal youth and eternal bliss.\u201d\n\n\u201cA most delightful and ennobling thought,\u201d said I; \u201cand I am willing to\nbelieve what you say, and to wait my own spiritual development before\nbeing able to comprehend its meaning.\u201d\n\nI was then seized with an intense desire to see my mother. And lo! before\nI could give it utterance in words, she appeared before us, an angel as\nyoung and beautiful as my sister-in-law, but grown the female counterpart\nof my father by long and loving contemplation of his virtues.\n\n\u201cI was attracted hither,\u201d she exclaimed, in charming trepidation, \u201cby\nstrange gushes of maternal feeling. Who is it that calls me?\u201d\n\nMother and child passed simultaneously into the old forms of the\nearth-life, and into the long dormant states of the natural memory. She\nwas a Jewish matron in Bethany, and I a little boy of five years old. How\nfrantically she kissed my face and hands! How madly she pressed me to her\nheart! How we wept together!\n\nWhen we came back to our last form and state, she exclaimed, still weeping\nfor joy:\n\n\u201cOh that I could see you continually in that charming little shape! I\nshall make you resume it over and over again, until I satisfy my hungry\nheart with the graces of your boyish form. Ah! nothing is lost. All is\ngiven back to us.\u201d\n\nWe discoursed on a thousand topics, and floods of spiritual light were\npoured upon my benighted, undeveloped mind. Walking with these angelic\nfriends on the grand piazza of the palace, and gazing at the architectural\ngrandeur which surrounded us, I was filled with an exhilaration of spirits\ntoo great for earthly utterance, never to be comprehended by any one until\nhe meets his friends, whom he calls dead, in the divine light of the\nheavenly world.\n\nWhen I new recall these things, poor, old, desolate, heartbroken man that\nI am, bearing my earthly burdens again and doomed to another death, they\nall seem to me like a delightful dream! That I walked and talked with\nfriends in heaven! surveyed their houses! discussed their laws, their\ngovernment, their worship, their occupations, face to face as man with\nman! Impossible! Incredible!\n\nWhat did I say?\n\nIt was no dream. It was no hallucination. It is possible. It is credible.\nIt was a fact. My memory does not betray me. My imagination does not\nmislead me. It was all true; and I shall see them, hear them, live with\nthem again, never to return to earth, so soon as I once more give up this\nmortal breath and render this feeble body back to the dust whence it came.\n\nHow long, O Lord! how long?\n\nI learned from my brother that the societies in heaven, which are\ninnumerable, are arranged according to the uses they perform, which depend\nupon the bent of the inclinations and the expansion of the intellectual\nfaculties of those who compose them. Men on earth receive their vitalizing\nimpulses, their attractions to all that is good and true, from these\nsocieties through the medium of good spirits in the intermediate world.\n\nSome of these societies inspire the love of nature and art; some the\ngenius and power for civil government; some the taste for science and\npractical life. Some animate especially the devotional nature; some the\nsocial; some the poetic; and others, again, act as intermediate powers,\nbalancing and harmonizing the different activities of the soul.\n\nThe society to which my brother belonged was one which presided over and\nsecretly vivified the architectural tastes and genius of man. Near by,\nupon mountains whose purple summits I saw in the distance, was a large\nsociety which presided over music. Great societies which were the secret\nlife and soul of poetry, history, oratory, statuary, painting and other\nfine arts, were grouped around, more or less remote, all holding the most\ndelightful communications and interchanges with each other.\n\nI was astonished to learn that the peace and joy and highest happiness of\nthe angels spring from the exercise of their faculties in the performance\nof useful service to each other. They are never idle, but continually\nengaged in doing something useful from the love of use. I learned that in\nthis the angels find their chief delight; and that, although they\noccasionally meet for formal and social worship, and unite in prayer and\nsongs of praise as people do on earth, they nevertheless regard the loving\nand faithful performance of the duties of their respective vocations as\nthe highest kind of worship. This they call _real_ worship; and the\n_formal_ kind in which they sometimes engage, is merely to fit them for\nthe higher and more real kind.\n\n\u201cDo you ever see your earthly friends,\u201d I asked, \u201cstruggling and toiling\nin the dark abyss of nature, before they cast off their earthly covering\nand rise into the light and beauty of these higher worlds?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot directly!\u201d replied my brother, \u201cfor there is no continuity between\nspirit and matter. To speak philosophically, there is continuity and\ncorrespondence; but spirit and matter are not degrees of the same\nsubstance, differing only in tenuity, as is commonly supposed. It is\nimpossible for us to see or hear anything in the natural world, except\nthrough the medium of some living man whose interiors have also been\nopened.\n\n\u201cWonderful as it may seem to you, the spirits of men still living in the\nflesh are really in the spiritual world, all the time connected secretly\nwith spiritual societies. They are invisible to us, however, because their\nthoughts, affections and senses all open downward and outward into nature.\nThey become dimly visible, but do not communicate, when they are in states\nof profound abstraction or great spiritual elevation.\n\n\u201cWe see them occasionally also by correspondences, which would appear to\nyou like visions or dreams. In every society these manifestations are\ndifferent, depending on the nature and functions of the society. In ours,\nfor instance, the mental states of our earthly friends are sometimes\nrevealed to us architecturally. That is, we see them as in a dream\nbuilding houses: and without knowing their names or earthly whereabouts,\nwe judge of their characters by the materials, the progress, the\nexecution, even to the minutest details of the work they seem to be\ndoing.\u201d\n\n\u201cWonderful and beautiful!\u201d I exclaimed.\n\n\u201cI can show you this wonderful thing more easily than I can explain it. We\nhave here the power, incomprehensible to you at present, of recalling\nthese symbolic images and making them appear before us again, as if they\nwere external and real things.\n\n\u201cLook,\u201d he said, and the horizon toward the north seemed overcast. A thin\nveil of mist arose before us, and through it we discovered a dim range of\nhills, upon each of which a house was in process of erection.\n\n\u201cEvery man in the flesh,\u201d said my brother, \u201cis always engaged,\nunconsciously to himself, in building his future house in the spiritual\nworld; for the entire spiritual life of a man is represented symbolically\nby his residence here and its appointments. All the activities of your\nhands, heart and brain in the good and true things of the earthly state,\nare so many contributions to the materials, style, form, color and finish\nof your eternal home.\n\n\u201cObserve,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat some of those houses are nearly finished,\nothers are barely begun. Some of them are in styles of great grandeur,\nothers are very plain. The materials, too, and the execution differ\nimmensely. Observe also that a man alone is at work on some; a man and a\nwoman on others.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy is that?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen a man and woman are truly married, they assist each other in\nbuilding the same house; for they will live together as husband and wife\nfor ever in heaven. Sometimes persons not married in the world, are seen\nworking together here. Such persons have strong interior affinities,\nunknown it may be to each other on earth, and will be united in heaven.\u201d\n\n\u201cStrange and beautiful!\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cAnd true!\u201d he exclaimed, earnestly. \u201cThe true is always strange and\nbeautiful.\n\n\u201cIf you will look closely,\u201d he continued, \u201cyou will see many faint and\nshadowy forms that are earnestly assisting these men and women in carrying\nthe heavy materials and putting everything into its proper place. These\nare attendant good spirits invisible to the workers themselves. When a\nhouse is finished, we know that the architect has been released from the\nbondage of the earth-life, and will soon occupy the same house vastly\nbeautified and glorified in some heavenly society.\u201d\n\nThus are spiritual houses\u2014houses not made with hands, eternal in the\nheavens\u2014builded by our prayers, our faith, our hopes, our loving thoughts,\nour useful and unselfish deeds.\n\n\u201cI see some houses,\u201d I remarked, \u201cupon which no one is working. They seem\nto be falling to decay.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe builders have been led away into temptation by evil spirits. The work\nof regeneration appears to be arrested or retroceding. The Lord will lead\nthem by ways they know not, and they will renew their labors.\u201d\n\nWhile gazing at this strange scene and scrutinizing these shadowy\narchitects of future homes, I suddenly recognized my own figure toiling\nalong under a great beam which was to constitute one of the door-posts on\nthe ground-floor. My house was scarcely begun.\n\n\u201cSee, brother,\u201d said I, \u201cI have passed into the spiritual world and my\nhouse is not finished.\u201d\n\n\u201cI never saw it so before,\u201d he said. \u201cI would say confidently from this,\nthat your earthly mission is not ended.\u201d\n\nWhile he was speaking, my attention was arrested by a woman in a black\nrobe on the side of the hill opposite to where my own figure was. This\nwoman was bent almost to the earth under a great block of stone, which she\nwas bearing to put into the walls. Several shadowy forms were busy around\nher assisting in the difficult task.\n\n\u201cAnd that woman?\u201d said I.\n\n\u201cIs probably your future wife.\u201d\n\nAn insatiable desire immediately seized me to behold her face. Forgetting\nmy painful experience in the imaginary heaven of the Greeks, I thought\nonly of Helena.\n\n\u201cIt is she,\u201d said I, to myself. \u201cShe is a pagan. She is surrounded by evil\nspheres. She is unregenerate. Her regeneration will be painful and\ndifficult. The good angels are assisting her. The foundations of our house\nare laid; the structure will rise; the joint work of our secretly united\nsouls. I always knew it and felt it. It cannot be otherwise!\u201d\n\nIn this ecstasy of thought I watched the bowed figure in the black robe.\n\n\u201cOh that Helena could see and know that I am with her and she with me,\nlaying the invisible foundations of our eternal home! What felicity that\nwould be! Let me speak to her! Let me see her face!\u201d\n\nThe intense desire of a strong will is at once granted in the spiritual\nworld. The woman in the black robe slowly raised her eyes to heaven and\nturned her face toward me.\n\nIt was the pale, sorrowing face of Mary Magdalen!\n\nMary Magdalen!\n\nThe blood all seemed to rush back upon my heart, and I stood with a\nchilling, suffocating sense of disappointment hard to describe. But the\nloss of Helena, grievous as it was, was not the only ingredient in my cup.\nThere was vexation as well as disappointment. A deep sense of\nmortification overpowered me at the substitution of Mary Magdalen, a woman\nwithout character or friends, recently possessed of seven devils\u2014a\ncreature miserable, outcast, forlorn.\n\nSecret feelings of social superiority, self-righteousness, and offended\ndignity, embodied themselves in my exclamation of contempt:\n\n\u201cMary Magdalen!\u201d\n\nI brought upon myself immediately the operation of one of those spiritual\nlaws which excite so much astonishment in the new-comer. My angelic\nfriends were total strangers to earthly passions, to the frenzy of love,\nthe rage of disappointment, the sentiment of superiority, the feeling of\ncontempt. Loving all alike with infinite tenderness and pity, the angels\nof God do not see any difference between the self-righteous saint and the\naudacious sinner.\n\nMy outburst of unregenerate passion separated me at once from my heavenly\ncompanions. It appeared to them that the ground opened and swallowed me\nup. They no doubt exclaimed to each other:\n\n\u201cPoor fellow! He is not yet prepared to enter upon the heavenly life. We\nwill wait on the Lord, who bringeth all things to pass.\u201d\n\nMy sensations were different. The architectural heavens of the tribe of\nBenjamin vanished from my sight; all was dark for a moment; and, remitted\ninto my former state, I found myself in the world of spirits just where I\nhad been raised from the dead.\n\nMy faithful friend John the Baptist was near me, and extended his generous\nhand.\n\n\u201cHave I visited heaven,\u201d said I, \u201cor have I been dreaming?\u201d\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XXI.\n\n\n                         _THE SPIRITUALLY DEAD._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\n\u201cYou now understand,\u201d said my father, who had rejoined us, \u201cthe spiritual\nlaw which separates heaven from hell. Similarity of mental states produces\npresence; dissimilarity separates. Societies are held together by the\ncohesive power of spiritual affinity. In heaven they are all in perfect\nlight and perfect peace, because they all obey the spiritual attractions\nof the Sun of heaven, which is the Lord.\u201d\n\n\u201cHeaven, then,\u201d said I, \u201cis open to all, but none can live there save\nthose who are as good and wise as its inhabitants?\u201d\n\n\u201cPrecisely so. Whenever a false or sensual idea arises in the mind of the\nnew-comer, or some unrighteous feeling is aroused in his heart, he\ndisappears from his heavenly associates and they from him.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow then can one be prepared for heaven?\u201d asked I, sadly; \u201cfor it seems\nthat I am very, very far from that state of perfection.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne is prepared for heaven by his life on earth. The life of a man is the\naggregate of his loves. The state of the heart determines the hereafter.\nIt is the intellect only which is anxious about many things\u2014many dogmas,\nmany creeds, many questions. To the heart there is but one thing needful,\none care, one duty\u2014to cast out the love of self, or duly subordinate it to\nthe love of the Lord and the neighbor.\n\n\u201cKindly feeling toward the neighbor, acts of civility and charity\nunconnected with the hope of reward, deeds of self-sacrifice, generous\nemotions, pure affections, the spirit of forgiveness, reverence for God,\nobedience to law, humility, patience; these are the angels of the heart\nand the powers which build up the heavenly character in the soul, and the\nfuture heavenly world in which it resides.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy life upon earth is then a poor warrant of a life in heaven,\u201d I\nanswered pensively. \u201cI do not know that I have any faith at all. I have no\npurified motives, no fixed principles. I have no love for spiritual\nthings. I have a certain taste for the true and beautiful, a certain\nadmiration for the pure and good. I am kind and affectionate by hereditary\norganization; but I have never thought of devoting myself to the good of\nothers. No aspirations beyond the sensuous life have been kindled in my\nsoul.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not despair, my son. You have, without doubt, the basis on which the\nheavenly superstructure can be reared. Your house in the heavens was not\nfinished, but it was begun. You will pass through various stages of\ninstruction, and even through trials and sufferings in the world of\nspirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd in the world of nature also, where his period of probation will be\nextended for many years to come,\u201d added John the Baptist.\n\nAs we both looked to him anxiously for an explanation of these singular\nwords, he continued:\n\n\u201cAs the herald of the Lord, forerunning His work in the world of spirits\nas I did in the natural world, I have become acquainted with an\nextraordinary fact, which it is my business here to announce. You are to\nleave us and return into your natural body. You disappeared from your\nearthly friends and became visible to us; you will now disappear from us\nand become visible to them. Christ will recall you from the dead after\nyour body has lain four days in the grave. You will be the subject of a\ngreat miracle of the Lord; and your story will animate the faith and hope\nand love of the Church in all ages of the world.\u201d\n\nI was bewildered at these words.\n\n\u201cHow can I return into nature?\u201d said I. \u201cHow can I get back into the\nnatural body? How can I die here when there is no death?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe difficulties which seem to you impossibilities,\u201d said John, \u201care\neasily met. The process is perfectly intelligible from the spiritual\nstand-point. Attend to my elucidation of it; for it involves the true\nnature of miracles and of the redemptive work of the Lord.\n\n\u201cYou understand that Christ exists consciously and actively in both worlds\nat the same time; in his spiritual body here, in his natural body upon\nearth. You know this, for you have seem Him in both spheres.\n\n\u201cHe is performing a series of divine works in both worlds at once; and a\nwonderful parallelism exists between his works here and his works there.\nWhat he does in this sphere is repeated in that in a different but\ncorresponding form.\n\n\u201cThis is the world of causes, that is the world of effects. There is no\neffect without a cause. It seems to men in the flesh that the miracles of\nJesus are performed by his word alone\u2014by the breath of his mouth. That is\na mistake. They are the natural effects of spiritual causes. Jesus is\nengaged in this world of spirits in instituting a series of causes which\nare to produce certain natural effects; among them, his benevolent works\ncalled miracles.\n\n\u201cMiracles are not violations of natural law. They are only proofs that\nspiritual or divine forces govern in all the transformations of matter.\nThey teach men the true source and origin of causes, and the true relation\nbetween the spiritual and natural worlds. All things are miracles. They\nare only wonderful when the events are new, extraordinary, not understood,\nor misinterpreted.\n\n\u201cChrist could not restore natural sight to a blind man, unless he excited\ninto activity those spiritual causes which produce both spiritual and\nnatural sight. Imparting spiritual light or wisdom to the spiritually\nblind in this world, he originates a force which, passing through his own\nnatural body, restores vision to the correspondingly blind man on the\nearth upon whom he lays his hands.\n\n\u201cHe here infuses moral vigor into souls who had lost the power of\nperforming their spiritual duties. This becomes a cause producing a\ncorresponding effect upon earth; namely, that the touch even of the hem of\nhis garment will restore muscular strength and will to the paralytic.\n\n\u201cWhen the Divine Man resists and subdues the evil spirits who would\ndestroy him, the natural effect is, that He stills the tempest and treads\nupon the waves,\u2014that even the winds and the seas obey him.\n\n\u201cWhen he preaches spiritual truth to those who have never risen above the\nperception of natural things, and their minds are lifted from the natural\nto the spiritual degree of thought, the natural effect is, that he turns\nwater into wine.\n\n\u201cSo of all his miracles, even that of raising the dead. When he imparts\nspiritual life here to those who are spiritually dead, he sets in\noperation a spiritual cause which imparts life again to those who are dead\nin the natural sense.\n\n\u201cSuch is the spiritual philosophy of miracles, which men in their\nignorance suppose to be contraventions of natural law, designed to prove\nthe possession of divine power. God violates no law either spiritual or\nnatural. He is Law itself. It would be a contravention of the eternal\norganic law if miracles did not ensue, after the institution of their\nspecific causes in the world of spirits.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou draw indeed,\u201d said I, \u201ca wonderful and beautiful parallel between the\nspiritual and the natural works of Christ. It is clear that the biography\nof the Divine Man can only be written from the spiritual side. I\nunderstand also, in some measure, your philosophy of miracles; still I do\nnot perceive how I am to get back into the natural world.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will make it plain to you presently. When you come within the power of\nan evil sphere, it endeavors to absorb your individuality, and to\nassimilate you entirely to itself. If you approach the sphere of spiritual\npride and self-righteousness, unless you are under divine protection, you\nwill become proud and self-righteous. Approach the sphere of ambition, and\nyou become fired with the insatiable lust of dominion. Approach the sphere\nof sensuality, and your heart, blood, brain, are all set on fire with\nhell.\n\n\u201cSuch is the contagion of evil. Contagion, whether moral or physical, is\nsimply the influence of spheres\u2014the imposition of one\u2019s state upon\nanother\u2014the transference of conditions.\n\n\u201cNow if under certain circumstances you enter the evil spheres of this\nworld, you will be reduced to the state of the spiritually blind, deaf,\ndumb, paralytic or dead as the case may be. You will then be connected\ninteriorly and by correspondence with the blind, deaf, dumb, paralytic or\ndead, in the natural world. Do you not see?\u201d\n\n\u201cGo on,\u201d said I, following with deep interest the chain of his reasoning.\n\n\u201cWell, you will descend among these people whom we call the spiritually\ndead. You will enter into their spiritual state. Your spiritual body will\nbe then reconnected by correspondence with your natural body now lying in\nthe sepulchre; all without your co-operation, without your consciousness.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell\u2014and then what?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen Christ in his judgment approaches the sphere of those who are\nspiritually dead, he will cast out the evil spirits who possess them.\nSpiritual life will begin to dawn on their souls. Both spiritual and\nnatural life will spring up for you simultaneously.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy for me alone? Why will not _their_ dead bodies also arise?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause their connection with nature has been long and totally sundered.\nOn the contrary, you have still a natural body not yet disorganized;\nindeed, preserved by special providence for your resumption at the proper\nmoment\u2014thus manifesting the power and glory of God.\n\n\u201cYour spiritual companions will be delivered from their bondage to hell,\nand will emerge into the activities of spiritual life. You will be\ncorrespondently delivered from the bondage of hell and the grave; and will\nbe raised from the dead and restored to your friends in Judea.\u201d\n\nI contemplated with awe the extraordinary fate that awaited me. I felt\nsome reluctance at leaving a sphere so bright and beautiful, where I had\nbeen initiated by such charming friends into high and holy truths. I felt\ndeeply convinced, however, that I was unprepared for heaven, and was\ngrateful for a more extended probation on earth. An encouragement also to\nresignation was the thought that I was going back to comfort and protect\nmy loving and lovely sisters, Martha and Mary.\n\n\u201cBut these people who are spiritually dead,\u201d said I. \u201cAre their corpses\nhere, also, and sepulchres and monumental inscriptions?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no!\u201d said my father, who took up the conversation; \u201cyou are now\nthinking from your natural stand-point. The spiritually blind are those\nwho are blind to spiritual things. The spiritually dead are those who are\ndead to spiritual things. They comprise an innumerable multitude of souls\nwho have lived a merely sensual life, and who have no knowledge or love of\nanything higher or better or purer than the wretched existence they led in\nthe life of nature.\u201d\n\nDuring this conversation we had been advancing toward the north. We came\nnow to the brow of a great hill, whence the country sloped suddenly\ndownward and spread into a vast plain. It had a cheerless and wintry\naspect; for the cities and villages and fields were all covered with snow.\nAfar off along the line of the horizon was a dim blue ocean, full of\nicebergs of enormous size. A gray twilight hung over this cold region, the\ndarkness of which was occasionally illumined by electric flashes in the\nsky.\n\n\u201cThere are spiritual as well as natural zones,\u201d said my father\u2014\u201czones of\nthought and affection, in which the heat and light vary in intensity\naccording to the interior states of the dwellers. Cold and darkness arise\nalways in this world from the want of spiritual heat and light, which are\nlove and wisdom.\n\n\u201cHere we take our adieu,\u201d he continued, in a tone which revealed a touch\nof sadness. \u201cThat great light just rising in the east and south indicates\nthe approach of the Lord with all his hosts of ministering angels and\nspirits. His presence will disperse the demons of darkness, who have so\nlong sat like ghouls upon the hearts of myriads of feeble and helpless\nbeings.\n\n\u201cAh! how the love and faith of the Church in heaven have watched over\nthese dead souls! and have wept and prayed for them, like two lovely\nsisters weeping and praying over the body of a dead brother! How have they\nlonged for this day of the Lord, and how have they wondered, sorrowing,\nthat He has so long delayed his coming!\n\n\u201cHe comes! He who is the resurrection and the life! and these dry bones\nshall live; these dead souls from all pagan lands shall come out of their\ngraves; and the power of death and hell shall be overthrown!\n\n\u201cDescend, my son, into the grave that leads you back into life.\u201d\n\nMy spirit-friends now bade me a tender adieu, pronouncing benedictions\nupon me and speaking words of encouragement. Bewildered and amazed,\nwondering and fearing what would happen next, I went down the steep slope\ntoward the cold and silent plain. As I moved along, a great change came\nover my spirit. There was a perceptible closure of some window from above,\nthrough which the vital currents descend into the soul. This was followed\nby a loss of memory, a vanishing of thought, a sense of fainting or death.\n\nThe last thing I remember was the music of a sweet hymn wafted softly from\nthe brow of the hill. The words were these:\n\n\u201cYea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear\nno evil.\u201d\n\nIt was my father and John the Baptist comforting to the last the forlorn\nspirit that was sinking in the waters of Lethe.\n\nOf what occurred after I reached the plain, I have not the slightest\nrecollection, if indeed I ever knew. What kind of people I saw, what they\nwere doing, what Christ and his angels did, what changes followed\u2014all is a\nperfect blank to me. I cannot account for this fact. It will all be made\nplain to me when I ascend again into the spiritual world. Certain it is,\nthat a sublime scene of judgment and deliverance took place, but that it\ndid not come within the range of my consciousness.\n\nThe first thing I became aware of, was a sense of infinite pity. I did not\nknow whether I was in the spiritual or in the natural world. I was flooded\nwith a vast, deep, boundless spirit of compassion. I wept\u2014I did not know\nwhy. This was the communication to my soul of the life flowing from the\nDivine Man.\n\n\u201cJesus wept.\u201d\n\nHe was not only weeping for me, as the Jews supposed who witnessed the\nexternal side alone of this wonderful scene. The loving heart of the\nDivine Being was touched with infinite, celestial pity for the innumerable\nmultitude of the spiritually dead. It was a drop of that infinite pity\nwhich stirred my soul from the sleep of death. It was a drop of that\ninfinite pity which trickled down the face of Jesus, as he wept in the\ngarden for the brother of Martha and Mary.\n\nThat communication of the divine grief to me must have come from the\nspiritual side of my perceptions. I passed again into a dreamy, almost\nunconscious state, from which I was aroused by a clear sweet voice,\nsaying,\n\n\u201cLazarus! come forth!\u201d\n\nI started to my feet. Blind, bound, bewildered, I staggered toward the\nvoice. The fresh air struck sweetly on me, and I revived.\n\nThe voice continued:\n\n\u201cLoose him and let him go!\u201d\n\nOh how many myriads of invisible but happy spirits heard at the same\nmoment similar words of deliverance and comfort, from the omnipresent God\nspeaking in the world of spirits as He had spoken on earth!\n\nI was freed from the shackles of the grave and looked around me. I was in\nthe sweet garden of Bethany, standing by the stone which had been rolled\naway from the sepulchre, beneath a bright and beautiful sky. A crowd of\nfriends, with faces full of wonder and joy, were grouped around. My\nsisters had swooned at the feet of Jesus, who was smiling benignantly upon\nme.\n\nI took in the whole situation at a glance. Remembering everything;\nremembering my former unbelief and indifference; remembering the wonderful\nscenes I had witnessed; remembering Jesus in his spiritual body, seen also\nby the three disciples on the mount; remembering his divine character, his\nwarfare with hell, his judgments, his mercies; and now understanding in\npart the divine mystery of the incarnation; I knelt at his feet in the\ndeepest humility and the most undoubting faith, exclaiming,\n\n\u201cMy Lord and my God!\u201d\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXII.\n\n\n                             _BACK TO EARTH._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI was borne to my bed-chamber by my friends; for I was not able to walk.\nThe curious crowd followed us to the gate, but very few persons were\nadmitted into the house. They judiciously forebore attempting to converse\nwith me, and I fell immediately into a refreshing sleep.\n\nWhen I awoke my sisters were ready with stimulants and nourishment.\nLooking up into their sweet, eager, happy faces, I found stimulus and\nnourishment of a higher kind.\n\n\u201cBack in the world again!\u201d I exclaimed, as soon as I could breathe for the\nkisses they were showering upon me.\n\n\u201cYes\u2014raised from the dead!\u201d said Martha; \u201cPraise be to the Son of God!\u201d\n\n\u201cRaised from the dead!\u201d echoed Mary with deep solemnity, her voice\nfaltering with emotion.\n\nTrying to recall what had happened, I was struck with a curious impression\nwhich had been left on my mind. It was the impression that a very long\ntime\u2014months, years, many years, had elapsed since I died. I had passed\nthrough so many wonderful states, had seen so many astounding things, and\nbeen initiated into so many spiritual mysteries, that when I came to think\nof them from my earthly stand-point, it seemed impossible that so much\nexperience could have been crowded into a few days.\n\n\u201cIf this be really Lazarus,\u201d said I aloud, \u201che ought to be a gray-headed\nold man, and his sisters wrinkled old women; for surely many years have\npassed since he fell sick in Bethany.\u201d\n\nThe words disquieted my sisters, who were afraid of returning delirium.\nThey enjoined upon me absolute silence on the plea of my great weakness.\nSo I lay upon my couch, looking alternately out of the two windows of my\nroom. One of them opened upon the inner courtyard with its little fountain\nof water, as beautiful to my eyes as if it had been a great column of\ncrystal. From the other I saw the summit of the Mount of Olives, beyond\nwhich lay the Holy City, concealed as heaven is concealed from us by the\nintervening heights of our earthly passions.\n\nMary sat near me engaged on some fine needlework; Martha at a little table\nclose by, poring over a beautiful golden-clasped parchment of the Psalms\nof David. They occasionally lifted their eyes with watchful interest to my\nface. It was a soothing pleasure to contemplate these lovely women. There\nwas a soft, pure, heavenly atmosphere about them, which reminded me of the\nheaven I had left; and I understood the words of the Psalmist, that man\nwas created only a little lower than the angels.\n\n\u201cWhere is Jesus, our benefactor?\u201d I inquired, breaking through their\ninjunction to keep silence.\n\n\u201cGone into Jerusalem,\u201d was the reply.\n\n\u201cIf our good father was here,\u201d said I, \u201che would tell us what great change\nin the world of spirits was coming next; for every movement of Jesus on\nearth is significative of wonderful things going on in the sphere above\nus. But alas! from this earthly point of view, all is darkness!\u201d\n\nThe startled expression of my sisters\u2019 faces showed that they thought my\nmind was wandering. They only replied by putting their fingers warningly\nupon their lips.\n\nSo I shut my eyes and addressed myself to sleep again; but pictures from\nthat museum of Art which memory builds for us all, came floating before\nme. Mary standing silent and downcast at the mouth of the deserted cave;\nthe Son of the Desert, the zebra of my vision, wearing in his wild life\nthe ring which Martha had given him; Ethopus parting with his treasure to\nrescue his brother; the haughty stare of the guests of Hortensius in the\nHall of Apollo; Helena, the beautiful, leaning against the emerald tree\nand clapping her hands at the drunken Bacchus; Mary Magdalen toiling up\nthe hill under the terrible load, and comforted by invisible spirits; the\ngreat snow-fields and ice-mountains of the spiritually dead, whom I felt\nbut did not see; all these things and many more passed and repassed before\nmy mind\u2019s eye, until, lulled as if by the ceaseless patter of rain, I fell\na second time into a deep slumber.\n\nI was thoroughly restored when I awoke the next morning. I immediately\nrepeated the Lord\u2019s Prayer after my father\u2019s example; and entered, upon\nthe first page of the book of my new life, a firm resolution to prepare my\nsoul by faith and obedience for an eternal home in the heaven I had\nvisited, but for which I was yet unfit.\n\nAs my strength increased I gave audience to my friends\u2014to very few at\nfirst; but recovering day by day, I soon had the house thrown open to all\nwho wished to examine for themselves the facts in evidence of the great\nmiracle.\n\nThe story had gone far and wide. The death, the burial, the four days in\nthe grave, and the resurrection, were all susceptible of positive proof.\nThere were scores of intelligent and truthful witnesses on every point.\nCrowds of people came to see the house, to inspect the grave, and to\nconverse with me. I was examined and cross-examined by Scribes and\nPharisees, by Jews and Greeks, by Romans and Egyptians, by infidels and\ndisciples.\n\nI soon discovered that, although everybody was intensely interested in the\nstory of my sensations when dying and when coming to life again, very few\nappeared to be long entertained by my wonderful experiences in the world\nof spirits. They seemed instinctively to refer all my statements on that\npoint to the class of dreams and visions.\n\nAt first I was astonished and even annoyed at this indifference and\nunbelief. But I soon learned that man at present is so immersed in the\nlife of the senses, that faith in a spiritual world is more nominal than\nreal; a faith so vague, shadowy and fanciful, that he will not accept as\ntrue any positive statements about the spiritual world.\n\nMen yearn for the great veil to be lifted; to communicate with departed\nfriends; to see the patriarchs and prophets; to learn the mysteries of the\nheavenly kingdom. Oh that some one, say they, could return from the unseen\nworld and tell us all about these things! With what solemnity would we\nlisten to his words! with what joy! with what faith!\n\nThey are the victims of delusion. If their dearest friends were raised\nfrom the dead after a year\u2019s burial, they would find themselves\ndisappointed. They would regard them at first with wonder and awe. They\nwould believe until they began speaking. But when they described the\nresurrection which happens to all as it did to me; when they taught the\ndoctrine of a spiritual body; the reality and substantiality of the\nspiritual world; the civil, social and religious life of heaven; doubt\nafter doubt would crowd upon their minds, until they would reject the\nwhole story as a dream or a fabrication.\n\nChrist himself declared that the appearance of one from the dead would\nconvince no man. It is a strange declaration, but my own case is evidence\nof its truth.\n\nThe grounds upon which the incredulity of my visitors was based, were of\nthe most contradictory and sometimes of the most irrational nature. One\ndisbelieved because I had not seen Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; and because I\ndeclared that no earthly names exist in heaven, and that respect is there\nentertained, not for persons, but for character or quality. Another\ndoubted my report because I said that David was not king of all the Jews\nin the spiritual world.\n\nOne man, a great patriot, was indignant because I affirmed that all the\nRomans did not go to hell. Another, equally zealous for Judea, was\npersonally abusive because I declared that more people were saved from the\npagan or gentile nations than from the Jewish Church. Another was shocked\nbecause I said the angels were not always engaged in singing and praising\nGod. Another, an ideologist, scouted the idea that there was any form,\nshape or substance to the soul, or even in the spiritual world.\n\nThe most ignorant and conceited of the Scribes and Pharisees denounced me\nbitterly as teaching doctrines utterly at variance with Scripture and\nsubversive of the interests of vital religion. On the other extreme, our\nworthy old Greek gardener laughed at my narrative as a tissue of\nhallucinations, because I had not been rowed over the river Styx by Charon\nthe ferryman, but honestly declared that I had seen neither Charon nor the\nStygian river.\n\nThe majority insisted that I had not been dead at all; that my condition\nwas only a trance, which had often occurred before, and had been prolonged\nto even a greater period. To this the Pharisees added, that it was no\ndoubt a trick of magic in which I was guilty of collusion, and which was\ndesigned to extend the fame and influence of Jesus of Nazareth.\n\nSome believed in the fact of my resurrection; and the more enthusiastic\nwent so far as to affirm that my body had been decomposed in the grave.\nThese were actually angry with me when I declared that, although I was so\nfar dead as to be living consciously in another world, yet my separation\nfrom nature was not organic and final, my natural body being preserved in\na peculiar manner for a reunion with its spiritual form.\n\nI soon became wearied and disgusted with unprofitable discussions, and\nwith credulities and incredulities equally absurd. Failing to convince my\nhearers, or to elevate their minds into the heavenly light which I myself\nenjoyed, I became more and more reserved; and at last I would not speak on\nthe subject to any one but Mary and Martha.\n\nThese dear women listened with unfailing delight to all I had to say. The\ndivine intuitions of woman recognize always a new truth before the\ncalculating reason of man endorses it. Martha indeed doubted occasionally\nand criticised sharply, but was always satisfied after consulting the\nScriptures and comparing what I related with their sacred teachings. Mary,\nfull of love and trust, believed unquestioningly every word I said.\n\nWhen the crowd was greatest and the excitement highest, our old enemy\nMagistus, assuming the garb of friendship, came to see me. He had heard of\nmy death with great pleasure, for he expected to regain possession of the\nproperty and of my sisters. He was at heart greatly incensed at my return\nto life, and vowed to wreak his vengeance on the Divine Man who raised me\nfrom the dead.\n\nHe entered with affected friendliness of manner, and congratulated me on\nmy happy escape from the world of shadows. He hoped, with sanctimonious\nearnestness, that after this solemn warning, I would discard all my pagan\nideas and proclivities, and consecrate my whole soul to the service of the\nonly true and living God.\n\nI told him that I was rather to be pitied than congratulated on returning\nto a world so vastly inferior in beauty, peace, and joy to the one I had\nvisited. I told him also that I had been instructed in the true doctrine\nof God in the world of spirits, and that I had seen the terrible dangers\nwhich were impending over the Jewish people and church on account of the\nblindness and wickedness of their hearts.\n\n\u201cYou will be delighted to hear,\u201d I continued, \u201cthat my guide and\ninstructor was my beloved father, who passed from the wilderness into\nheaven, exchanging a poor leprous body for the radiant form of an angel.\u201d\n\nWhether my looks and tones displeased him, or my statements aroused his\nanger; or whether the sphere of truth, like the revealing light of heaven,\ncompelled him to show himself in his true colors; Magistus dropped the\nmask, scowled upon me with a face full of hateful passion, and retired,\nturning at the door to exclaim:\n\n\u201cBeware, young man! lest this pretended resurrection prove the cause of\nyour real death.\u201d\n\nI had hardly felt myself in full and healthful possession of my natural\nbody again, when I made inquiries after that beautiful and fascinating\nwoman, the love of whom, unrequited and consuming, had been the principal\ncause of my death. One might suppose that after my strange experience with\nHelena or her attendant demon\u2014an experience seemingly designed to apprise\nme of her true character\u2014she would have been the last person on earth I\ndesired to see.\n\nAlas! it was not so. The enchantments of the senses strike deep into the\nsoul. The dream of love first engendered in the fervid brain of youth is\nnot easily forgotten. Her beautiful face and bewitching figure were\nconstantly before me. And it was with the deepest anguish that I heard she\nhad fled from her father and friends, and had gone down into Egypt with\nSimon Magus.\n\nI found it impossible to turn my thoughts from this Greek siren whose own\nevil passions had thus borne her out of my reach, and to concentrate them\nupon that other woman whom Providence had decreed to be my eternal\npartner, and who was silently, painfully, unconsciously, co-operating with\nme in building that palace in the architectural heaven of my tribe.\n\nMary Magdalen followed Jesus as usual, and came occasionally with the\ncrowd into the front courtyard of our house. The love of Helena so\npreoccupied my thoughts and desires, that I could not make up my mind to\nspeak to her forlorn rival, or to invite her into the guest-chamber with\nthe other disciples. So the future wife of my soul stood without among the\nunwelcomed crowd, outcast, solitary, unfriended, patiently bearing the\nburden of life for both herself and me.\n\nJesus spent his evenings at our house, until the violent spirit of the\nchief Priests and Scribes, on account of my resurrection, became so\napparent, that he withdrew for a season to Ephraim, where he had several\ndevoted followers. He passed the time in pleasant conversation with his\ndisciples, or in reading and expounding to us the Scriptures.\n\nWith what eyes and thoughts, different from the others, did I now regard\nthis Divine Being, seated as a man among men\u2014among the creatures of his\nown breath! My spiritual experiences with regard to Him had cast a spell\nof silence and awe upon my soul. I could not speak to Jesus as before. In\nhis presence I could scarcely speak at all. Sometimes I found it\nimpossible to lift my eyes to his face. While the others ate and chatted\nrespectfully but familiarly with this Divine Man, knowing Him only as a\nman, I sat silent and reverential, my heart humbled in the dust before\nHim, thinking of the great golden light which preceded Him in the world of\nspirits, and of his divine face shining like a sun upon the angels of the\ncelestial heaven.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXIII.\n\n\n                              _IMPRISONED._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nJesus at length came up from Ephraim and prepared for that triumphal entry\ninto Jerusalem which aroused the animosity of the Sanhedrim to the highest\npitch, and gave color to the charge which they brought against him, that\nhe meditated a political conspiracy and sought the temporal authority and\nkingdom of Judea.\n\nMany, indeed, of his ignorant followers expected him to seize the reins of\ncivil government, and to maintain his position by miraculous power. Then\nthey supposed he would raise Jerusalem and the Jewish people to the\npinnacle of earthly glory. These boasted openly of their expectations; and\nthe chief priests and rulers no doubt congratulated themselves, in their\nsubsequent proceedings, that they were extinguishing a false religion and\na civil war by the same energetic blow.\n\nOn the eve before this entry into Jerusalem my sisters gave a supper to\nJesus and his disciples. It was a brilliant and beautiful scene, crowned,\nhowever, with a certain solemnity and sadness; for the great events about\nto transpire cast shadows before them which fell upon every heart. It was\nthere that my sister Mary drew forth, from a golden box which had been\ngiven her by our good uncle Beltrezzor, a costly Persian ointment and\nanointed the feet of Jesus. Judas Iscariot reproved her conduct as\nextravagant; and Jesus responded that she was anointing him for his\nburial. This prediction of death on the eve of apparent triumph and glory,\nbewildered the minds and saddened the hearts of his hearers.\n\nIf I had known at that moment, upon what a frightful precipice I was\nstanding, and what lifelong tribulation awaited me, I would have been the\nsaddest of them all. But the skeleton stands invisible at our feasts, and\nthe serpent coils undiscovered among the flowers.\n\nJesus, with his favorite disciples, Peter, James and John, lodged at our\ndwelling; but most of the guests returned to Jerusalem at a late hour. I\naccompanied them through the grove which crowned the Mount of Olives, and\ndown the western slope, over the spot where Jesus was afterward betrayed,\nand from which also he ascended to heaven. I parted with my friends at the\nlong arched bridge which crosses the valley and lands you near the gate of\nthe temple called Beautiful.\n\nAs the last footsteps died away on the bridge, I turned to go back, when I\nwas startled by the dark figure of a man advancing from behind a tree. The\nmoon had just gone down and the wind sighed mournfully through the olive\nleaves. This man was Judas Iscariot.\n\n\u201cI have something,\u201d he said in a low tone, \u201cof the deepest importance to\nreveal to you. I know your attachment to our Master. I know your\ndiscretion and your courage. I have discovered a plot against the life of\nJesus. Two hirelings in the pay of the Sanhedrim, conscience-stricken, or\nmore probably afraid of the miraculous power of Jesus, have betrayed a\npart of the plan. They are now underneath one of the arches of that\nbridge, waiting for me. I wish you to accompany me into the valley, to\nquestion these men, to satisfy yourself of the nature and extent of the\ndanger, and to aid me with your counsel and if necessary with your arm.\u201d\n\nI was deeply agitated at these words. I knew the animosity of the chief\npriests to Jesus, and I believed they would not hesitate to employ the\nknife of the assassin, if they could not arrest his career by a public\nprocess. I had no cause to doubt the report of Judas; but for some\ninexplicable reason I had a great aversion to the man.\n\nHe must have read doubt or suspicion in my manner; for he immediately\nexclaimed in a tone of surprise:\n\n\u201cWhy do you hesitate? Is my word not sufficient? I have chosen you to\nshare in this mission of honor and danger, because you are indebted to\nJesus for your own life, and because he is at this moment a guest in your\nhouse. Had I communicated this to the brave Peter or the resolute James\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough!\u201d said I, interrupting him and taking his arm; and we groped our\nway along the narrow path that wound down the steep hill into the valley.\nReaching the level ground, Judas gave a low whistle and four men started\nup from behind the pillars of the bridge. One of them led a mule by the\nbridle. We approached them.\n\n\u201cHere is your man,\u201d said Judas, suddenly stepping behind me and seizing me\nwith great strength by the shoulders. The men rushed upon me, and\nnotwithstanding my desperate struggle they bound me hand and foot in a few\nseconds.\n\n\u201cVile traitor!\u201d was the only exclamation that passed my lips before they\nwere tightly closed by a strong leathern muzzle which was strapped\nsecurely over my head and behind my neck. I was then blindfolded and put\nupon the mule. We moved around to one of the city gates. The passwords\nwere given, for the party were emissaries of the Sanhedrim. We traversed\nthe streets a good distance, when we halted and I was conducted into a\nhouse. When released from my bonds I found myself in a large stone chamber\nwith a small iron door and two lofty, iron-grated windows.\n\n\u201cIn prison?\u201d I exclaimed.\n\nJudas, who stood in the doorway, rubbed his hands with insulting glee and\nsaid:\n\n\u201cYour uncle Magistus pays me handsomely for this.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf Jesus is ever murdered,\u201d said I, with indignant scorn, \u201cyou will be\nthe murderer.\u201d\n\nHe sneered and went out. I saw him no more. Alas! I never saw the natural\nform of Jesus again. He who betrayed the disciple, was already bargaining\nfor the thirty pieces of silver at which he estimated the life of his\nLord.\n\nThe cause of my imprisonment was not doubtful. I had become obnoxious to\nthe Sanhedrim from the mere fact of my resurrection. The attention it\nattracted, the prestige it conferred on Jesus, the increasing crowd that\nfollowed him, all annoyed and vexed them. I was a living proof of the\npower and glory of the new religion, a standing protest and menace against\nthe old. It was necessary that I should be put out of the way.\n\nI was shut out from the world; a pallet of straw for my bed; a rough table\nand a stool my only furniture. A fierce, silent guard brought me a daily\nsupply of water and coarse food. I saw and heard nothing of the great sea\nof human life which was surging outside of my stone walls.\n\nSeveral days and nights passed in this manner. What had become of my\nsisters? What had become of Jesus? If I had been made the first victim,\nsurely these others would fall shortly beneath the malice and cruelty of\nsuch unscrupulous enemies. These thoughts, attended with gloomy\nforebodings, pressed with painful reiteration upon my mind. I could not\neat. I could not sleep. I was all eye, all ear.\n\nI was startled one night by a strange uproar in the street. I was so\nwatchful, so quick of hearing, that I detected it a great way off. It\ngradually came nearer and nearer. It was a riot or street-fight or battle\ncreeping in the direction of my prison. There were at last plainly heard\nshouts, groans, curses, the hurrying of feet, the clash of arms, and all\nthe exciting accompaniments of a bloody contest between two enraged\nfactions. From the triumphant cries and the great flare of torches which\ncame in at my window, I perceived that one party had driven the other\nbefore it, and now occupied the ground in front of the building in which I\nwas imprisoned.\n\nI put the table against the wall and the stool on the table. Mounting thus\nto one of the windows, I could see partially what was going on in the\nstreet.\n\nWhat a crowd of ruffians of all nations and colors, fantastically dressed\nand variously armed!\n\nWhile I was gazing on this hideous rabble, a man of huge proportions rode\nup on a horse finely caparisoned, which had evidently been the late\nproperty of some dashing Roman officer. This man had a horribly bruised\nand swollen face, and an immense, dingy, yellow beard. I recognized\nBarabbas the robber.\n\n\u201cBreak open the doors and release the prisoners!\u201d he cried in a terrible\nvoice.\n\nBeams used like battering-rams were soon brought to bear upon the\niron-barred and bolted doors, until the whole building resounded with the\ntremendous strokes. How my heart leaped at the thought of a speedy\ndeliverance! I determined in the confusion to elude both parties and\nescape to Bethany.\n\nAt this moment a great outcry arose: \u201cThe Romans! The Romans!\u201d and the\nswift clatter of horses\u2019 feet and the renewal of all the sounds of a\nfierce fight, assured me that the rioters had been attacked by a squadron\nof Roman cavalry.\n\nSuddenly I heard a loud, clear, sweet voice shouting with wild enthusiasm:\n\n\u201cDeath to the Romans!\u201d\n\n\u201cFreedom to Judea!\u201d\n\nI recognized the familiar tones before I discovered the tall figure of the\nSon of the Desert.\n\nHe was bare-headed, and his fine bronzed face, his scimitar and his\ncrimson scarf gleamed in the torchlight as he rushed bravely forward.\nAnthony, my old servant, was at his side, watching his movements with\nadmiration and echoing his words. The Son of the Desert was bringing up a\nlarge party of stalwart fellows, armed with pikes and scimitars, to meet\nthe advancing column of horse.\n\nI called to him loudly, waving my arms eagerly between the bars. At that\nmoment a strong pressure backward from the front, held the party\nstationary for a second. My old friend looked up at my window surprised,\nand smiled his recognition. He kissed his hand to me and pointed to the\nring on his finger which Martha had given him. Anthony also recognized me,\nand saluted me with frantic gestures and every demonstration of childish\njoy.\n\nThe party suddenly surged forward, and the Son of the Desert raised his\nbattle-cry:\n\n\u201cDeath to the Romans!\u201d\n\n\u201cFreedom to Judea!\u201d\n\nJust then my guard, who had entered the room, commanded me to come down\nfrom the window, threatening to transfix me with his javelin if I did not\nobey. I descended and seated myself quietly on the stool, listening in\nsilence to the progress of the fight. Knowing the irresistible power of\nthe Roman arms, and wondering why the Son of the Desert had been led into\nsuch a hopeless enterprise, I was grieved, although not disappointed, when\nI distinguished by the varying sounds of the conflict, that the\ndisciplined cavalry of Pilate\u2019s legion were masters of the field.\n\nThe torchlight faded away; the tumult ceased. Nothing was heard but a\nsolitary horseman patrolling the deserted streets. The enterprise,\nwhatever it was, had failed. I was not to be rescued. I was not to rejoin\nmy sisters. I was to know nothing that was going on in the busy world\naround me. I sank upon my straw, dispirited, despairing. Toward daylight I\nslept; and I dreamed of that terrible night by the Dead Sea and of the\nwords of my uncle Beltrezzor.\n\nIt seems that the riot made my jailers suspect that my prison was\ninsecure. A few nights after this grand excitement, I was startled by\nseveral men in masks entering my room. I was bound, muzzled and\nblindfolded again. I was placed in some kind of a vehicle. We traversed\nthe city; we passed the gate; we descended a slope. The fresh air of the\ncountry broke sweetly and soothingly upon me. We ascended a long hill, as\nI knew by the motion to which I was subjected. No one spoke.\n\nAt last the vehicle stopped. I was led between two men into a house. We\nwalked through a very narrow passage where only two could pass at a time.\nSuddenly I was stopped, seized by the arms, and let down into a kind of\nvault. Previous to this I was stripped of my bandages; but it was so dark\nthat I could distinguish nothing.\n\nIt was not deliverance. It was not death, that happiest deliverance of\nall! It was a change of prisons\u2014from dark to darker. My heart sank within\nme. I trembled.\n\nStrange sounds above me at the point of my entrance now attracted my\nattention! I listened with the utmost tension of ear, endeavoring to\nconjecture what my jailers were doing. At last I comprehended it! They\nwere bringing brick and mortar, and all in the dark! They were walling up\nthe space by which I had been lowered into the vault.\n\nHorrible idea! My former prison was a dungeon; this was a grave! I was to\nbe buried alive!\n\nThe thought overpowered me and I swooned.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXIV.\n\n\n                             _BURIED ALIVE._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWhen I recovered my senses I examined as well as I could the strange place\ninto which I had been plunged. It must have been broad daylight out of\ndoors, for there was a kind of twilight about me that revealed plainly the\ncontour of my dungeon. When evening came on I was shrouded in impenetrable\ndarkness. Such was the only difference between my day and my night.\n\nThe chamber was about ten feet square, and its walls rose to a\nconsiderable height. It was evidently an old secret dungeon partly\nunderground, damp and mouldy, the scene perhaps of many sufferings and\nmany crimes. There was an opening into this vault, so that I was not\nliterally buried alive. The workmen who had sealed up the space by which I\nhad entered, had left a little square hole like a window about ten feet\nabove the flooring. I could see a brick wall beyond it, so that there was\nevidently a narrow passage by which some rays of light came to me. When a\ndoor, opening into this passage, was left open, the light was\nconsiderable.\n\nIf I could have reached that window I could have escaped; for it was large\nenough to admit the head and shoulders of a man, as I soon had occasion to\nknow. I made many frantic efforts to do so, but could barely touch the\nedge of it with the tips of my fingers. There was not an object in the\nroom to assist me in reaching it. My chamber was perfectly bare\u2014not a\nstool, not a pallet of straw.\n\nWhile I was contemplating sadly the frightful fate which was in store for\nme, a little lid or trap-door in the ceiling about a foot square was\nopened, and a basket was lowered by a cord. This basket contained a loaf\nof bread and a bottle of water. I took out the bread and water; the basket\nrose again by the cord, and the lid was closed. This was the routine, day\nafter day, without variation. Not even an arm or a hand could be detected\nwhen the lid was raised. Nothing could be seen or heard.\n\nThere was one thing that varied the monotony, and only one. Every day,\nabout noon, the door in the passage was opened, the light admitted, and\nthe ugly face and head of Magistus were protruded through the little\nwindow. There he stood gazing at me for some minutes, sometimes for half\nan hour, on several occasions for one or two hours. He did not speak. He\nglared at me with a stony malignity which is indescribable. When he had\nsatiated his cruel appetite with a sight of my sufferings, he retired.\n\nThus passed away week after week, month after month. My sufferings were\nhorrible. I wasted and weakened day by day both in mind and body. The air\nof the dungeon had become foul and sickening. The bread and water had\nbecome tasteless and repulsive. The silence, the solitude, the darkness,\nwere fearful.\n\nMagistus came every day to enjoy with secret satisfaction the cruel death\nhe was inflicting on me. I regarded him with such repugnance and scorn,\nthat I did not speak to him or even look at him. This no doubt inflamed\nhis hatred. I walked about my narrow prison, whistling or talking to\nmyself until he went away. My insulting indifference did not seem to\ndisturb him in the least. He did nothing to attract my attention. He only\nlooked.\n\nAnd now a strange and almost incredible thing occurred. I do not believe\nany one can comprehend what I have to say, unless he has been shut up\nalone in the dark for weeks and months; with the mind preying morbidly on\nitself for want of external objects to give it healthful activity; wasted\nby low diet and a mephitic atmosphere, by silence whose terror is\nindescribable, and by solitude which of itself can drive to madness.\n\nI did not look at the stony, cruel face of Magistus; but the idea that he\nwas looking at me began to take a singular and painful possession of my\nmind. I could not get rid of it. I walked, whistled, talked, sang to\nmyself, all in vain. The idea that a hideous face was in the window; that\nthe black, fierce eyes were fixed upon me; that I could not prevent it;\nhung over my mind like the vultures gnawing at the heart of the chained\nPrometheus. It became a positive torture.\n\nAn irresistible desire to look him full in the face seized me. Whether it\nwas a secret magnetic attraction compelling me to do so, or whether I\nthought it might mitigate my painful and absurd tension of thought on the\nsubject, I yielded at last. From that moment his triumph was complete. It\nwas veritably the fascination of the bird by the serpent. I could not help\ngazing at him. He seemed to absorb my whole nervous life, to suck out the\nvery spirit of my blood, so that I was left breathless, dizzy, bewildered,\nhelpless, after each of his terrible visitations.\n\nThus I lived a daily death for many weeks; ignorant of all things without;\nnever hearing the sound of a human voice; buried alive; until hope died in\nmy bosom, and despair became my bedfellow, and fear my familiar, and even\nmemory ceased to weave her beautiful airy tissues, consoling me for the\nloss of a future by her glorification of the past.\n\nAt first I used to love to review all the incidents of my life, both on\nearth and in the world of spirits. I spent my long and lonesome leisure in\norganizing my knowledge, analyzing my experiences, and building up from\nthem a grand philosophy of mind and matter.\n\nI saw plainly that such a philosophy was needed to give intellectual\nstrength and stability to the young church of Christ. I knew that no\nheight of piety, no fervor of faith, no frenzy of love can secure a church\nfrom the cold and critical assaults of the human understanding. Devotion\nmay be the soul of a church, but Truth is its body: and no religion\nwithout an impregnable basis of philosophy, can be anything but a\ntransient fervor. It must inevitably perish by a gradual disintegration.\nFor this mode of thinking I was indebted to the Athenian philosophers.\n\nThe disciples of Christ had no such foundation upon which to erect the\ngreat theological truths they were going to teach. I saw plainly that such\na philosophy cannot be discovered by the human intellect: and moreover\nthat it can only be revealed to mankind through some one who has lived\nconsciously for a while in both worlds. By divine permission and\nprotection I had so lived. I had been put into possession of truths of the\nutmost importance to the infant church and the world. Surely I could not\nthus perish in a dungeon! Surely the Lord who had raised me from the dead,\nwould deliver me also from this great snare; so that I could delight and\ninstruct mankind with what I had seen and heard in the spiritual world.\n\nI therefore arranged all my ideas into philosophical form, and\ncontemplated with intense pleasure the perfect system of spiritual and\nnatural truth which I had eliminated from my accumulated materials. It is\nastonishing how one spiritual truth leads to another; how all things are\nconnected together; so that the greatest things are repeated in the least,\nand the smallest fragment is an image of the whole.\n\nWith increasing debility and despair I ceased to think steadily of these\ngrand and beautiful subjects. I spent much of the time in praying for\ndeliverance, and much in brooding over the possible fate and sorrows of my\npoor sisters. After a while I discovered that my ideas were strangely\nconfused, especially after those terrible visits of Magistus, which I\nbegan to regard with absolute horror. I could not distinguish between what\nhad happened in one world and what in the other; between dreams and\nrealities; between my hopes and my fears. The awful suspicion broke upon\nme that I was losing my reason, that I was on the verge of madness.\n\nThen it was that my courage failed and my pride humbled itself; for when\nMagistus next appeared, I raised my hands supplicatingly to him and\nexclaimed:\n\n\u201cOh, my uncle! why do you thus persecute an innocent and helpless\ncreature? May God have mercy on your soul as you shall have mercy on me!\u201d\n\nHe made no reply, but stared fixedly at me. Not a muscle of his face\nmoved. No ray of emotion was visible on his features. He seemed to be as\ndeaf and dumb as a statue. I might as well have appealed to a tiger or a\ncrocodile for pity. I was about to repeat my supplication, but his look\nappalled me; and I sank, pale, rigid and stupefied under the old spell of\nfascination.\n\nThere was no hope.\n\nLet no one suppose that this instance of cruelty is incredible. Its\nhereditary germ is concealed in our hearts. It begins developing in the\nchild when he tortures the dumb creatures in his power. To delight in\nwitnessing pain is the basest and most infernal of all our passions; but\nit is common enough. Every court, every camp, every government, and alas!\nalmost every religion in the world, has its secret records which could\nunfold tales of horror worse even than this. Man invested with\nirresponsible power, is naturally a tyrant; and the difference between a\ntyrant and a devil consists only in their different degrees of\ndevelopment.\n\nI learned, moreover, in the spiritual world the singular fact, that men or\nwomen addicted to sensual pleasures unregulated by religious ideas,\nhowever kind and gentle they may seem, have in their hearts a tendency to\nthe most direful cruelties which rarely come to the surface in this world,\nbut which rage in hell with unabating fury.\n\nOne morning a wonderful thing occurred. How small a thing may seem\nwonderful to those who are shut out from the sweet presences of man and\nnature!\n\nOn taking the bread and water out of the basket, I found a delicate little\nrose-bud at the bottom of it. Let those who see every day a thousand\nflowers in the golden palaces of the spring, pity and excuse the frantic\npleasure which this tiny one gave to a poor prisoner, who had been shut up\nfor months in darkness, surrounded by stone walls and demons.\n\nI seized the sweet messenger of love, for such I construed it to be;\nstrained my eyes in the twilight to discover the green and crimson of its\nlivery; and imagined that its delicate perfume was a little voice\nwhispering to me of pity and of succor. I wept over it. I kissed it. I\ninvested it with life. I called it Mercury, Iris, Hebe, Cupid, Apollo\u2014as a\nchild endows her doll with vitality, speaks to it, caresses it, nurses it.\nPerhaps all nature would be alive to us if our hearts were only childlike.\n\nThis flower was a link that reconnected me with the great world above, so\nlong lost to me. It was a delicate thread that led me up into the open air\nunder the blue sky, and out into the green fields and into the gardens\nwhere the winds wrestled playfully with the trees, and all the flowers\nducked their little heads at the great rough sport of the larger\ncreatures. The beautiful forms and colors of a luxuriant nature rushed\nupon me with a ravishing sweetness. My memory and imagination were\nstimulated into rosy life. I wept for joy.\n\nThe secret of all this happiness was, that the rose-bud reconnected me\nwith my fellow-men. Some one had got hold of the basket who knew my sad\nstory, pitied my fate, and had sent me a message of comfort. I was\nconfirmed in this idea when I broke open my loaf of bread; for I found a\nslice of meat concealed within it, juicy and delicious. This was the first\nvariation from my diet of slow starvation. It was clearly the secret,\ncautious work of a friend. Help was coming; my heart danced with hope.\n\nThis little event shed still greater light and blessing upon me. My mind\nbecame clear; my memory acute; the fear of madness left me. My past\nsufferings seemed like a dream. With hope I received new life, new\ncourage. When Magistus came, I found that I was freed from the spell of\nhis fascination. I did not look at him. I sat down immediately underneath\nhis window. I repeated comforting verses of Scripture to myself until he\nwent away.\n\nThat day was spent in the most delicious castle-building. At night I\nslept, but was visited by a disagreeable dream. I thought Magistus had\ntaken my rose-bud from me, and buried it in the ground; and I awoke with a\ngreat cry, for I suddenly remembered that what we had called the rose-bud\nwas my sister Mary.\n\nHow eagerly I watched the next descent of the basket, for more comfort,\nmore tokens of love, more hope! It came; but there was in it only bread\nand water. My heart sank within me. I would have called out loudly to my\nunseen friend, to know why I was deserted; but I feared my unseen enemy;\nfor I felt certain that Magistus always watched the person who let down\nthe basket.\n\nMagistus came as usual; and I sat, not noticing him, underneath the\nwindow. He seemed annoyed at my indifference. He shifted his position\noften and stayed a great while. He missed the pleasure of contemplating\nhis work in my ghastly and pallid face.\n\nThe same things occurred the next day and the next. No more flowers; no\nmore meat; no messages; no hopes; only bread, water and Magistus. Was it\nall a hallucination? Again I began to sicken and despair.\n\nOne morning the basket came down with only bread in it. No water! I knew\nit was a sentence of death. Magistus was revenging my escape from the\nfascination of his evil eye. Before night I began to feel the horrors of\nthirst. Awful sensation! I dreamed of water; of the fountain in my\nfather\u2019s courtyard; of the blue \u00c6gean near Athens, so soft, so beautiful;\nof the Salt Sea and the tent of Barabbas; of the snow-fields and icebergs\nof the frozen zone in the world of spirits.\n\nAll, all depended on the next descent of the little basket. I watched its\ncoming as a prisoner listens to the voice of the judge, for life or death.\nAlas! bread alone; no water. Torture, madness, death, were now inevitable.\n\nI took out the loaf, which somehow or other seemed heavier than usual. To\nmy amazement, the basket did not rise, but was jerked impatiently up and\ndown by the person holding the cord.\n\n\u201cWhat can this mean?\u201d said I to myself.\n\nI broke the loaf. It was scooped out and contained, in the cavity thus\nformed, a piece of parchment and a very small ink-horn with a pen.\n\nI hastily examined the parchment and found on one side of it in great\nsprawling letters, like a child\u2019s writing, these words:\n\n\u201cWhat shall I do?\u201d\n\nA light came into my mind as brilliant as the sun. I was calm and\nself-possessed; my good angel recalled to me the friendly words of Pilate\nat our parting:\n\n\u201cSend for me if you get into trouble.\u201d\n\nI wrote as clearly and as rapidly as possible in the dim twilight:\n\n\u201cTell all to Pontius Pilate. Be quick or I die!\u201d\n\nI put the parchment into the loaf and pressed its crust closely together\nagain.\n\nI now heard the stern voice of Magistus exclaim to some one:\n\n\u201cWhat are you dallying about?\u201d\n\nThe basket ascended. I trembled. I almost fainted. My entire hope, my\nlife, hung upon a thread\u2014upon a hair!\n\nHow fortunate it was that I did not send up the parchment alone! My good\nangel guided me. Magistus looked into the basket, and seeing it ascend\nwith the loaf in it, exclaimed,\n\n\u201cHe is too weak to take out his bread. I will give him a little wine.\u201d\n\nHe seemed to walk away and my heart commenced beating again.\n\nAt that moment another little flower, another sunbeam, fell from the\nceiling to my feet: and the lid was closed.\n\nHigh hope in my soul obliterated for a time even the torture of thirst. I\nwas calm. I was happy. My invisible friend had received my message. If he\ndelivered it, I was safe: for Pilate would certainly release me. What if\nPilate was absent or dead or displaced? Such thoughts were torture. Still,\nthe new governor, whoever he was, would befriend me. I determined not to\ngive way until night.\n\nMagistus came earlier than usual, and threw me down a goat-skin bottle of\nwine and water. I thanked him with the utmost deliberation. He did not\nspeak in reply. He only wished to fan the embers of life, to prolong my\nsufferings. Human nature revolts at the contemplation of such a demon.\nSuch men are indeed rare, but such evil spirits are common. They are\npresent to our souls; cunning, cruel, malignant; infusing their poison\ninto our thoughts and affections; endeavoring to make us such as Magistus.\n\nThe worst evils here are moderated and repressed by the counteracting\npressure of good spheres. To see evil in its true light, you must see it\nin the world of spirits and in hell\u2014evil utterly divorced from good,\nprojecting itself outwardly in its own brutal forms, and working out its\nfrightful destiny.\n\nI waited for my deliverance with a sublime hope, a calm and fixed faith. I\nknew it was coming. It came.\n\nMagistus had at length reached, as all wicked men do either in this world\nor the next, the limit of his power, the fatal line; after which comes the\nrebound, the reaction, the punishment, the disgrace, the sure recoil upon\none\u2019s self of all the evil he meditates against others.\n\nEarly in the afternoon I became aware that a great commotion was going on\nin the house. The door into the narrow passage was broken open by axes;\nfor Magistus always carried the key, and he could not be found. A Roman\ncenturion soon appeared at the window where Magistus had so often stood.\nOh what a picture was his brave, handsome, indignant face! Soldiers came\nin. The brick and mortar were soon torn away. I was lifted out and carried\ninto the open air. I was so overcome with joy that I fainted.\n\nThe men who beheld my ghastly features and emaciated form were loud in\ntheir curses of Magistus. I was laid on a bed in the house, and nurses\nwere assigned me. The kindly centurion did not leave me until I was\ncomfortably fixed and had recovered from my swoon.\n\n\u201cPontius Pilate,\u201d said he, \u201cdesired me to present you his congratulations,\nand to say that he will visit you to-morrow when you have been refreshed\nand strengthened by food and a night\u2019s rest; and will then hear your story\nfrom your own lips.\u201d\n\nI thanked him warmly.\n\n\u201cAnd my deliverer?\u201d said I, \u201cmy unseen, faithful friend and deliverer!\nWhere is he? Who is he?\u201d\n\nNo one present knew anything about my deliverer.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XXV.\n\n\n                           _WHAT HAD HAPPENED._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nPontius Pilate fulfilled his promise; and I told him my whole story from\nthe time of my resurrection until my happy release by his good centurion.\nWhen I was speaking about the invisible friend, the flower let down in the\nbasket, and the parchment with its rude letters, his face grew sad. When I\nfinished by asking him to inform me how and from whom he learned my\ncondition, so that I could discover, reward and love my deliverer as he\ndeserved, he drew a deep sigh and said:\n\n\u201cI fear I have done a very hasty and cruel thing!\n\n\u201cThe man who informed me of your condition was the African who accompanied\nyou to Rome, and who endeavored to rescue the slave from the fish-pond of\nHortensius.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy brave and good Anthony!\u201d I exclaimed eagerly.\n\n\u201cHe eluded my guards; and although wounded by one of them for his\ntemerity, he rushed into my presence as I was finishing my morning meal.\nThe words he spoke were substantially these:\n\n\u201c\u2018Lazarus, whom you brought from Rome, is confined in a dungeon underneath\nthe house of Magistus, in Bethany. They have starved him nearly to death,\nand he has been without water for a day and a night. Send help to him\nspeedily, or it will be too late.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cNoble, courageous Anthony!\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cHe shall have half of my\npossessions!\u201d but I was disquieted by the darkening brow of Pilate.\n\n\u201cI asked him,\u201d continued the Roman governor, \u201cif he had been in your\nemploy since our return from Rome.\n\n\u201c\u2018No!\u2019 he replied, \u2018I have seen him but once, and that was in prison.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cHe spoke the truth,\u201d said I; \u201che always spoke the truth!\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought he was a messenger sent by some friend of yours. I remembered\nhim immediately, and I remembered also my promise to Hortensius. I saw in\nhim only an audacious criminal, returning without leave from an exile\nwhich had been decreed perpetual.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you threw him into prison?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf I had known of his beautiful and heroic devotion to you, his fate\nwould have been different.\u201d\n\nThe evident remorse of Pilate startled me.\n\n\u201cAnd his fate? What was his fate? He is not dead,\u201d said I, elevating my\nvoice.\n\n\u201cHe was beheaded immediately.\u201d\n\n\u201cO cruel, cruel, cruel fate!\u201d I exclaimed; and regardless of ceremony, I\nmourned for my dead friend with bitter tears and bitter words in the\npresence of his august murderer.\n\n\u201cI feel,\u201d said Pilate, when he bade me a friendly adieu\u2014\u201cI feel that I\nhave discharged a severe duty in this matter; but the generous conduct of\nthis African,\u2014for he certainly must have known that he endangered his own\nlife by appearing before me,\u2014would have entitled him to a full pardon,\nwhich I would have given with pleasure for his own merits as well as for\nyour sake.\u201d\n\nAs soon as my Christian friends heard of my reappearance, they crowded to\nsee me. From them I learned the sorrows and trials my sisters had\nundergone, as well as the strange events which preceded, accompanied and\nfollowed the crucifixion of Jesus.\n\nMagistus and Caiaphas had set afloat the story that I was engaged in the\nraid upon the city of Jerusalem, made for the double purpose of robbery\nand murder, by Barabbas and his party; many of whom were deluded into the\nenterprise under the idea that it was a patriotic rebellion against the\nRoman yoke. They also suborned witnesses to prove that I was killed in the\nnight attack, and was buried by them with a crowd of other rioters who\nfell by the Roman arms.\n\nThis led to the confiscation of our estates; and as Mary and Martha were\nhelpless and beautiful young women without relatives to protect them, they\nwere assigned to the special guardianship of Magistus. Caiaphas approved\nin strong terms this decree of the Sanhedrim, eulogized Magistus for his\ngenerous character and patriarchal virtues, and congratulated the sisters\nof a vile robber, themselves the disciples of a base impostor, on their\nextraordinary good fortune in being placed under the enviable protection\nof one of the shining lights of Israel.\n\nThe wickedness and duplicity of this high priest will be almost incredible\nto future times. But the age was evil; the church was corrupt; and public\nand private morality reduced to the lowest ebb. The priesthood was a\nmatter of bargain and sale. The office of high priest, the holiest and\nhighest in the Jewish theocracy, was obtained by bribery and fraud and in\nmore than one instance by murder. Caiaphas was one of the most consummate\nhypocrites that ever entered the holy of holies. He might have changed\nplaces with Barabbas, and justice and religion would not have fared the\nworse for it.\n\nMy sisters, terrified at the thought of falling into the power of\nMagistus, their remembrance of whom was anything but pleasant, fled from\nour house and concealed themselves with some of the disciples of Jesus.\nThe two chief miscreants of the Sanhedrim seemed determined to get\npossession of these unhappy and forlorn women; and they instituted the\nmost rigorous search through the houses of all persons who were suspected\nof harboring them. Their evil passions seemed only half gratified by my\ndestruction and the seizure of our property. Fearful would have been the\nfate of these angelic friends of Jesus, had they fallen at that time into\nthe hands of his fiercest enemies.\n\nSpies and detectives fully authorized to search, arrest, bribe, intimidate\nand even kill, were set upon their track in every direction. The country\nbecame so unsafe for them, that they were conveyed by stealthy night\nmarches to the hut of some friendly fishermen away down on the sea of\nGalilee. Even there they were pursued; and Peter the apostle rowed them\nacross the sea on a dark and stormy night, and concealed them in the very\ntombs whence issued the maniac out of whom Jesus cast a legion of devils.\n\nAfter many sufferings and hair-breadth escapes, they were conveyed out of\nthe country, and at that moment were living concealed in the city of\nAntioch, at the house of a poor but worthy man\u2014himself a Christian, for\nChrist had cured him and nine others of the leprosy; and he alone of the\nten had turned back to give thanks.\n\nI wept when I thought of the unhappiness of my poor sisters; and I felt an\nurgent desire to regain my shattered strength and rejoin them.\n\nThe story of the crucifixion of the Lord struck me with wonder and awe. I\nwas not surprised that Judas Iscariot had betrayed him. But the pathetic\nincidents of his last supper, his betrayal, his trial, his crucifixion,\nhis resurrection, his appearance to his disciples, and his ascension,\naffected me to tears, and filled me with a spirit of humility, love and\nprayer.\n\n\u201cThose are pictures,\u201d said I, to my friends, \u201cwhich will be painted on the\nheart of the Christian Church in the colors of heaven, and which the\npowers of death and hell can never efface.\n\n\u201cIf such,\u201d thought I to myself\u2014\u201cif such is the effect of this divine\nhistory as it appears in the literal form to man, what must be the power\nand glory of the spiritual signification of these great and holy things,\nwhen they are studied by angels in the light of heaven!\u201d\n\nBarabbas and his bravest lieutenants, including the Son of the Desert, had\nfallen into the hands of the rulers. Barabbas conveyed to Magistus a\nthreat, that if he were not released he would expose to the Sanhedrim his\nattempt to murder his nephew. Whether Magistus and Caiaphas, who acted\nalways in concert, feared an exposure of this kind, which is not probable,\nconsidering the source whence the charge would come, or whether they\nfollowed spontaneously the wicked instincts of their own souls, they\nprocured the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Christ.\n\nThe mercy extended to Barabbas was not given to his followers; and two of\nthem were selected to be crucified with Jesus, to increase the ignominy of\nhis execution. And so Christ was crucified between two thieves\u2014or men so\nreputed.\n\nOne of these was the Son of the Desert.\n\nThis brave, wild man, strangely compounded of good and evil, was heavily\nironed and cast into the deepest dungeon. Magistus had a habit, consistent\nwith his cruel disposition, of visiting prisoners condemned to death, and\nenjoying the terrors with which they contemplated their approaching fate.\n\nThe Son of the Desert did not gratify his passion for witnessing the\nsufferings of abject misery. He was singularly cheerful and buoyant. He\ndeclared himself not only willing but anxious to die. He had nothing to\ncontemplate with pleasure when he looked back; and as to the future, if\nthe soul were really immortal and a second life were given him, he was\ndetermined to start upon it with new principles and motives.\n\nMagistus was astonished at the calm, philosophic spirit of this poor\nwretch, who had never heard of philosophy.\n\nWhen Magistus was leaving, the Son of the Desert took a ring from his\nfinger and said:\n\n\u201cYou are not too proud to do one little favor for a condemned criminal.\nGive this ring to Martha, the sister of Lazarus. Tell her it has\naccomplished the mission upon which she sent it. She can touch it without\nshame. It has been an angel of light to me. Since I have worn it, I have\nseized no man\u2019s goods, I have taken no man\u2019s life except in lawful battle.\nIf I have adhered to my band, it was to moderate their passions, to stay\nthe hand of violence, to plead for mercy, to assist the captive, and where\npossible to make restitution. It found me a slave, it has made me a\nfreeman. It found me a robber, it has made me a patriot.\u201d\n\nHe was about to say more, but suddenly checking some rising emotion, he\nclenched one hand upon his heart, and waving the other, exclaimed:\n\n\u201cAdieu! adieu!\u201d\n\nNeither the message nor the ring was delivered to Martha. The story was\ntold to members of the Sanhedrim, in whom it awakened no generous\nsentiment, but only excited their amusement or mockery. The ring was taken\nto Ulema, my poor aunt, who still retained her wonderful clairvoyant\npower, which indeed seemed to increase as her general health declined.\nMagistus expected by the ring to obtain knowledge of all the movements and\nactions of the formidable band of Barabbas; for the clairvoyant can see\nthe past as well as the present, and with the proper clue, can go far\nback, on the stream of time, to the very origin of things. Rumor says that\nthe ring made strange and unexpected revelations, not only about the band\nof Barabbas, but about the early history of the Son of the Desert. Ulema\nfound in the last possessor of the ring her own only and lost child, who\nhad been stolen from the court-yard by one of a prowling party of\nEgyptians, when he was a very little boy. No discovery was ever made of\nhis whereabouts, and her grief at the event was one cause of her after\nseclusion and ill health.\n\nMagistus was astounded, and perhaps pained, on finding that his own child\nhad been crucified with Jesus. It was too late to do aught but bury the\nwhole matter with the other painful things in his memory. He said nothing\nto Ulema on the subject, who was of course unconscious of it all in her\nwaking state.\n\nA strange thing, however, now took place. The moment she passed into her\ntrance state, she began to weep and wail over her lost child. Her\nclairvoyance put her in full possession of all the facts of his life and\ndeath. The mother\u2019s heart broke under the immense sorrow. She pined\nrapidly, and her white hands were soon folded in that sweet sleep which\nprecedes the celestial waking.\n\nWe have a life within our life, like a wheel within a wheel!\n\nWith no knowledge of his parentage, no friend in whom to confide, no heart\nto receive and give a last adieu, the Son of the Desert bore his own cross\nup Calvary, and was nailed upon it by the Roman soldiers.\n\nHe had never seen Jesus before. He had heard of him only through enemies.\nHe supposed him to be some fanatic or impostor, or perhaps some political\nmaniac who aspired to the crown of Judea. At first he joined his\nfellow-sufferer on the other side of Christ in railing against the king\nand miracle-worker, whose sceptre and miraculous powers seemed so useless\nto himself and others in his last extremity.\n\nBut the conduct and words of Jesus smote him to the heart. Through that\nsecret affiliation and sympathy by which one brave and good man recognizes\nanother in the hour of sternest trial, the Son of the Desert, educated\nonly in heart, perceived with the heart that the kingdom of Christ was a\nspiritual kingdom. Divining intuitively the mission of infinite love in\nwhich the Lord was engaged, he confesses his own sin, rebukes and silences\nhis fellow-sinner, and pleads for remembrance in the hour of triumph which\nhe sees is approaching for the King of kings.\n\nBrave, repentant soul! Jesus is everywhere; in heaven; in earth; in hell.\nAnd shortly thou wast with Him and He with thee, in that paradise or\ngarden of the soul, in which the new life, forgetful of the old, begins to\nbud and blossom!\n\nThe great tragedy was enacted. The disciples at first stood afar off. But\nas the death-scenes drew nearer, and the curiosity of the crowd increased,\nmilitary discipline was somewhat relaxed, and the people were permitted to\npress closer, and those who had special claims were allowed to come up and\nstand very near the dying sufferers. It was thus that the Apostle John,\nand Mary the mother of the Lord, were in speaking distance in his last\nmoments. It was then that He gave each of them so tenderly to the other.\n\nAside from this awful central scene, which will shine in all history as\nthe pivotal event of the world, a pathetic side-scene was enacted, of\nwhich there is no historian but myself; and even I was not present, but\nrelate it at second-hand. My authority, however, was a man of truth, John\nthe Apostle, the exile of Patmos.\n\nFar off in the crowd was a solitary being whose eyes were fixed\ncontinually on the Son of the Desert. He stood with his brawny arms folded\nspasmodically across his chest. Great tears ran slowly down his cheeks.\nThat man was poor and ignorant and ragged and black, but he had a noble\nsoul. It was Anthony, the Ethiopian, who, exiled by Pilate into the\ndesert, had there met Barabbas and his band. He soon attached himself by a\ncertain instinct to the only noble spirit in the party. He followed the\nfortunes of this man; and, true to his African genius, he imitated his\ncharacter. The Son of the Desert was not ashamed of his humble disciple.\n\nAnthony escaped death and capture on the terrible night of the riot. But\nhis master was taken; and the faithful servant prowled about the suburbs\nand the prisons, risking detection and arrest in order to catch a glimpse,\nif possible, of him whom his soul loved. It was all in vain. He followed\nthe vast crowd which went out to the crucifixion, pushed aside by the\nspears of the soldiers, and found himself on Calvary a witness of the last\nact in the great drama\u2014an act which disclosed the mighty power of Love,\nand foreshadowed and meant the redemption of the world.\n\nWhen the people were permitted to approach nearer to the crosses, Anthony\ncame very close to that whereon his master, the Zebra of the Desert, hung\nin agony. No one noticed the ragged black man. He at last caught the eye\nof the poor sufferer, who smiled a sweet recognition. He was cheered. He\nfelt happy to have one follower, one soul that loved and pitied him. Poor\nAnthony wept as if his heart would break.\n\nHe procured a large goat-skin bottle full of water, and stood at the cross\nbathing his master\u2019s wounded feet with the cooling stream. The guards\nwearied, sickened with the prolonged sufferings of the victims, did not\nprevent him. He listened to the conversation between Christ and the\nrepentant sinner; and for the first time he seemed aware that there was\nanother great tragedy going on besides the one in which he was especially\ninterested.\n\nHe sat or squatted upon the ground in front of these dying men, looking\nfirst at one and then at the other; studying also the faces of the group\nof holy women, who with the good John stood near the central cross. A\ngreat idea was dawning on the benighted soul of the Ethiopian, a great\nlight, a great glory.\n\nWhy is it that the beams of celestial light pass by the palace and\nillumine the hut?\u2014pass by the cultivated and learned and gladden the\nhearts of the simple and child-like?\n\nWhen the Divine Man, praying for his enemies, gave up the ghost; when the\ngreat shadows came over the sun; when the bereaved women raised their wail\nof sorrow; when the centurion exclaimed, \u201cTruly this was the Son of God;\u201d\nanother convert\u2014humbler, lowlier than they all\u2014was kneeling at the foot of\nthe cross, praying to Him who hung upon it: \u201cLord, remember me also when\nthou comest into thy kingdom.\u201d Anthony assisted the disciples in taking\ndown the body of Jesus from the cross. That night, aided by John and two\nother disciples who had witnessed his tender devotion to the Son of the\nDesert, he took down the body of his master, wrapped it in a new\nwinding-sheet, and buried it in a corner of the Potter\u2019s Field.\n\nWhen washing the body for this lowly burial, they discovered some\nbeautiful red letters pricked or burned into the skin immediately over the\nheart. They were these:\n\n\u201cMartha, sister of Lazarus.\u201d\n\nAnthony followed John to his home and became his servant. He soon learned\nthe anxieties and conjectures which prevailed about my sudden\ndisappearance. Remembering my face at the prison window, he became\nconvinced that I was still a prisoner. He determined, with John\u2019s\napproval, to devote himself to finding and delivering me. He had no\nadviser, for John was busy in saving my sisters from the cruel Magistus,\nand was at Ephesus when I was delivered from the dungeon.\n\nHow well he executed his trust, the reader already knows. But how he did\nit; how he discovered my whereabouts; how he got into Magistus\u2019 employ;\nhow he obtained the post whence he could aid me; his difficulties, his\nhopes, his fears, his emotions\u2014all were buried with him\u2014alas!\n\nHe will tell the whole story to me when I meet him in heaven, as I most\nassuredly shall.\n\nPoor Anthony! brave to impetuosity, extravagantly generous, meek to the\ndeepest humility, faithful to the last degree! In his short, obscure life\nis concentrated a glory superior to all Greek or Roman fame.\n\nOne more piece of news occasioned me as much surprise as anything already\nnarrated. This, however, unlike the rest, was joyful. About a week before\nmy deliverance, my good uncle Beltrezzor had arrived in Jerusalem from\nPersia. He had heard, through his correspondent in the Holy City, of my\nsupposed death, of the crucifixion of Jesus, and the mysterious\ndisappearance of my sisters. He at once suspected some evil, and\ndetermined to hasten to their assistance. He found considerable difficulty\nin converting all his property into jewels and precious stones; and still\nmore in bringing everything safely through countries which were at war and\ninfested by prowling bands of deserters and thieves.\n\nHe had started for Antioch only the day before, having heard that John had\nconducted my sisters safely to that city.\n\nPilate was not slow in bringing Magistus to justice. Finding that an\nexposure of his infamously cruel character was already made, and that the\nRoman governor himself had taken part against him, hundreds of people whom\nhe had injured in person or property came forward to assist in the\nprosecution. He was convicted of many crimes, his estates confiscated; he\nwas exiled the country and forbidden to return under penalty of death.\n\nIt was ten days before I was able to travel. I chid the tardy hours that\nkept me from my beloved sisters and my dear old uncle, the disciple of\nZoroaster.\n\nAt last the word came:\n\n\u201cTo Antioch!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXVI.\n\n\n                        _THE CITY OF COLONNADES._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nStrange things were going on at Antioch.\n\nAntioch, the seat of the Roman government in Syria, was a centre in which\nmet all the peculiarities and eccentricities of the civilized world. It\nwas situated on the river Orontes, several miles above its confluence with\nthe sea. By an extensive system of artificial works the river was made\nnavigable for the largest vessels, so that Antioch was in rapport with the\nmaritime world. It was the city of amalgamations; the point of contact\nbetween the East and the West; the receptacle of all races and nations.\n\nNotwithstanding its wealth, beauty and splendor, the society of Antioch\nwas inconceivably corrupt and degraded. All kinds of strange doctrines and\nunhealthy superstitions were rampant there. Magicians, sorcerers,\nmiracle-workers, impostors, buffoons and courtesans were in high favor\nwith all classes. Life and death were equally disregarded. Races, games,\nf\u00eates, debauches, combats, processions, seemed to occupy the whole time of\nthe excitable and licentious populace.\n\nSimon Magus, after spending three or four months in Egypt with Helena,\ncame to Antioch and began an extraordinary course of public teachings. It\nwas a rich field for his peculiar genius. He combined philosophy with\nsorcery, theology with magic. Of his cruel deeds, his infernal plots, his\ninsane ambition the world was ignorant.\n\nHe was greatly changed. The inspiration of evil had taken demoniac\npossession of him. He had grown leaner and darker. His eye, always\neloquent and powerful, was fierce and restless. He had a singular habit of\ngrasping at his breast, with an expression of suffering on his face, as if\na violent pain shot through his heart. He had lost much of that calm,\nself-possessed, imposing exterior which commanded respect by its apparent\nstrength and dignity. He was louder in his speech, more rapid in his\ngestures, prouder and more defiant in his attitude. This gained him a\nlarger but more vulgar audience.\n\nThe magician was on the eve of madness, if not actually mad.\n\nIt was the age of insanity. It was the age of imposture and false\nmiracles, of convulsion and persecution, of moral and physical turpitude,\nof direful cruelty and bloodshed, of the wildest fanaticism, of the most\nrevolting excesses, of actual possession by devils. Nothing like it was\never seen before or ever will be again, because all these things were the\neffects and collateral issues of the spiritual combat between good and\nevil, between Christ and hell; the throes of the great demons of past ages\nbefore their final expulsion from their thrones and the inauguration of a\nnew spiritual power in the world.\n\nSuch was the state of society at Antioch when Simon Magus appeared in that\ncity and claimed to be an incarnation of the Deity, exercising miraculous\npower. He seemed to be possessed of boundless wealth. The splendor of his\npalace, the rare and gorgeous beauty of his equipage, his singular and\ndazzling dress, the wild grandeur of his manner, the wonderful eloquence\nof his speech, and the astounding feats of magic which he certainly did\nperform, all created a bewildering impression on the excitable and\nunthinking people of the City of Colonnades, as Antioch was called on\naccount of its architectural beauty.\n\nOn his first arrival he had directed his subtle energies to obtain the ear\nand the faith of the ruler of the province, the Roman governor, whose name\nwas Lelius. The appliances which he brought to bear upon the heart, the\nbrain, the senses of this weak and vain man, were finally successful. In a\nfew weeks Lelius was not only the dupe, but the mere creature of Simon\nMagus. Helena shared with her pretended husband the glory and the shame of\nthis royal conquest.\n\nSuch was the state of things when the apostle John arrived at Antioch with\nthe two unhappy fugitives\u2014my sisters. They were attended by Mary Magdalen\nin the humble capacity of servant. This zealous disciple of Christ had\nkept modestly aloof from them in their prosperity; but when thrown\ntogether by common sorrows and persecutions, she tendered her services and\nproved through life a most faithful and efficient friend.\n\nJohn obtained lodgings for the party with Salothel, the restored leper.\nHoping still further to shield them by drawing the pursuit after himself,\nhe traveled on westward as far as Ephesus, where he had friends, and where\nhe began preaching the new gospel of Christ. The sisters remained\nconcealed for a long time, until their fears were quieted and they began\nto be intensely anxious to hear from Judea. They had always doubted the\nstory of my death, and were continually hoping to get news of me.\n\nEmboldened by their long repose, Mary and Martha closely veiled took a\nwalk one afternoon with Salothel through the grand street of colonnades,\nand sat down to rest in one of the beautiful public squares. A triumphant\nprocession in honor of the Roman arms was passing by; and it was precisely\nin a great crowd, passing and repassing, that our recluses thought there\nwas least danger of being specially observed.\n\nSuddenly two men stopped near them, and one gazed earnestly at the\nsisters. That man was Simon Magus, thoroughly-disguised. He had received\nletters from his old disciple Magistus, telling him how his nieces had\neluded his vigilant pursuit, and requesting him to keep a lookout for\nthem. Simon also had not forgotten the defeat of his great scheme at\nBethany, and he desired above all things to get possession of Mary for his\nown private ends.\n\nIt is needless to say that when a man of Simon\u2019s genius and power gets\nupon the fresh trail of a poor helpless woman, it is but a short time\nbefore he secures his prey. Mary, innocent, unsuspecting, loving creature\nas she was, the very next day was decoyed from the house of Salothel by a\nvery old gray-haired, heavenly-faced man, a devout Christian, who managed\nto see her alone, and who wished to conduct her without a moment\u2019s delay\nto her suffering brother Lazarus. Of course the devout old Christian was a\ndisguised emissary of Simon; and Mary found herself immured in a secret\nchamber of his palace.\n\nWhat to do with her? was now the question.\n\nSimon Magus had such intense faith in the incantations of Ja-bol-he-moth,\nthe old demon of the Lybian desert, that he was ready to abandon his great\ntheological mission and convey Mary to the ruins of the ancient city which\nwas buried in the sand. If he had permitted Helena to remain in possession\nof his palace under the protection of Lelius, that beautiful person would\nhave approved his enterprise, and would have given him her blessing with\nher farewell. But Simon was obstinately resolved that she should accompany\nhim, and share the dangers and the glory of the expedition.\n\nHelena positively refused to return to Egypt; and as she was as fierce and\nimplacable as she was beautiful, Simon was at last obliged to submit to a\ncompromise. Mary was not to be conveyed into Africa; but she was to be\nmurdered, her heart extracted, burned into a cinder and pulverized, to\nconstitute a magical powder of extraordinary virtues. Thus Simon was to be\ngratified by an addition to his necromantic treasures, and Helena was to\nenjoy the dissipation of Antioch.\n\n\u201cAnd how it will delight our friend Magistus!\u201d said Helena.\n\nSimon felt too insecure in his new surroundings to venture upon the secret\nmurder of the young girl. It might be difficult to dispose of the body\nafter the heart was abstracted. The untried creatures and slaves around\nhim might discover the deed and betray him. His new claim to divinity\nwould be sadly compromised by his sudden exposure as an assassin.\n\nSimon and Helena devised a cunning plan by which they could attain their\nends without the least danger to themselves. Simon represented to Lelius\nthat a strange and dangerous conspiracy against government and religion\nwas taking root in Antioch. He described Jesus as a subtle impostor, who,\nunder the cloak of extraordinary sanctity, meditated the grandest\npolitical revolutions. He painted the disciples in the blackest colors as\nthe secret enemies of peace and order.\n\n\u201cThe leader,\u201d said he, \u201cof these turbulent spirits was crucified by\nPontius Pilate, whose probity and leniency are known to the whole world.\nHis followers, driven from Jerusalem, have spread as firebrands in\ndifferent countries; and secretly associated together, they are now\nplotting against the stability of all existing civil and religious\ninstitutions.\u201d\n\nHe claimed to have discovered their plots by magical power; and he\nsolemnly assured his credulous listener that he had not exaggerated their\nimportance or danger. He predicted that in a few years a decree of\nextermination would be issued by all civilized powers against these\npeople, and he begged Lelius to initiate those measures of destruction\nwhich would entitle him to the gratitude of mankind.\n\n\u201cI know,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat one of the most cunning of all these\nemissaries is now in the city: a woman, beautiful, accomplished,\ndesigning; concealing under the garb of modesty and humility, the spirit\nof universal anarchy. She anointed this Jesus as king in the presence of\nhis chosen officers and lieutenants on the night before his grand entry\ninto Jerusalem, when the mad populace shouted his claims to the throne of\nJudea. To satisfy your mind of the true nature of this formidable doctrine\ngrowing up around us, let me bring this woman before you and question her\nin your presence.\u201d\n\nLelius assented to this proposition, and Mary was led or rather dragged\ninto the august presence of the Roman governor. Simon Magus proceeded to\nquestion her in the most adroit manner, drawing from her exactly such\nanswers as were best calculated to shock and disgust the ignorant and\narrogant pagan who held in his single hand the power of life and death.\n\nMary, terrified and unsuspecting, answered all his queries in a simple and\ntruthful manner. She was thus made to say, that she had known and loved\nJesus of Nazareth; that she had anointed him on the eve of his royal entry\ninto Jerusalem; that she believed his teachings; that he had risen from\nthe dead and ascended into heaven; that she prayed to him as God; that he\nwas coming again to restore Israel and to judge the world.\n\nThis seemed like the wildest folly and fanaticism to the proud Roman; and\nhe smiled at the thought that there were people with the semblance of\nrationality who could credit such absurdities. But Simon\u2019s work was only\nhalf done. Questioning and cross-questioning his artless victim, he drew\nfrom her facts of a far more serious and practical bearing.\n\nMary believed, and candidly acknowledged it, that all the religions\nsanctioned by the laws of the Roman empire, were false religions; that\ntheir gods were no gods at all, or demons; that their boasted oracles were\nevil spirits; that the tendency of these religions was only evil, and that\ntheir devotees were living in sin and doomed to hell. Moreover, that the\nreligion of Christ was to supersede them all; that no compromise could be\npermitted; that it was a life-and-death struggle between the old religion\nand the new gospel.\n\nIn addition she was made to say\u2014never dreaming to what conclusions her\nadmissions were leading her pagan judge\u2014that Jesus had set apart a great\nmany persons, twelve at one time and seventy at another, to go forth into\nthe world and preach this gospel; that he had given them miraculous power\nwherewith to achieve their ends; that angels delivered them from prisons;\nthat they could strike their enemies blind or dumb or powerless; that they\ncould raise the dead; that they had a secret organization with signs and\nsymbols; that they had started or were going to start on their grand\nmission which was to overturn the powers of pagan darkness and prepare the\nminds of men for the universal reign of Christ at his second coming.\n\nWhen Mary was removed by the guards, Simon had no difficulty in convincing\nLelius that his own allegations had been well founded. Torturing the\nmeaning of Mary\u2019s words and giving them a purely literal construction, he\ninflamed the indignation and zeal of Lelius to such a pitch, that he\ndespatched private letters to the governors of the neighboring provinces,\ninforming them of the existence, motives and plans of this new and\ndesperate conspiracy against all that was stable, glorious and venerable\nin the civilizations of Greece and Rome.\n\nThe next thing was to determine what should be done to extinguish a heresy\nwhich meant revolution, in his own province. To this conference Helena was\nadmitted; for Aspasia had less influence over Pericles than Helena over\nLelius. The Roman governor was weak-minded, easily led, and without moral\nsensibility. He was passionately fond of new sensations, extraordinary\nexcitements, and the bloody sports of the amphitheatre. He was soon\ninduced to sanction a magnificent scheme concocted by that subtle brain\nwhich received its inspiration from the old magician of Pharaoh.\n\nOur good uncle Beltrezzor arrived at Antioch the day after Mary\u2019s\ndisappearance. He found the household of Salothel in the profoundest\nconsternation and distress. He was welcomed with frantic joy, and joined\nthem in the most painful and laborious search for his lost niece. Day\nafter day these sad, anxious souls traversed the city, walking, looking,\ninquiring everywhere. Among half a million or more of people the lost are\nnot easily found, especially if cunning and unscrupulous power gets them\nin its clutches and conceals them from view.\n\nIn the course of his inquiries, Beltrezzor discovered that Simon Magus\nlived in the city in great grandeur and authority. A fearful suspicion\nentered his mind; for he remembered the night-scene in Bethany, and the\nfoiled abduction. He did not communicate his fears to Martha or the rest,\nbut insisted upon their remaining in the utmost seclusion, while he\nconducted the search alone. He said he had discovered something important,\nbut which demanded great caution and secresy; and he endeavored to inspire\na hope which he did not feel.\n\nThe next day, passing a crowd in one of the squares, he observed the\nherald of Lelius reading a proclamation to the people, which excited the\ngreatest enthusiasm. He came near and listened to its second reading.\n\nIt announced officially, with great pomp of words, that the government,\ndetermined to protect the safety and morals of the people, had taken\nmeasures to extirpate a certain secret association of conspirators, which\nhad been founded in Judea by one Jesus Christ, whom Pontius Pilate had\ncrucified as an impostor and revolutionist. That the first step in this\nrighteous undertaking, would be the public execution of a young woman, who\nwas an agent and emissary of these outlaws, and who had anointed the said\nJesus king of the Jews, according to the old Jewish custom of installing\ninto the royal office. That in order to strike terror into these\nevil-doers, and to warn them of the fate which awaited them if they\nattempted to teach the doctrines of Jesus, the young woman, Mary of\nBethany, high-priestess of this new and dangerous religion, would be\nthrown to an immense N\u00e6mean lion just arrived from Africa, in the grand\namphitheatre on the afternoon of a certain day which would be the second\nSabbath following, according to the Jewish calendar. That, to illustrate\nthe clemency of the government, a full pardon would be given to the said\nMary if she publicly recanted her heresies and revealed the names of the\nother conspirators.\n\nBeltrezzor stood aghast at this terrible document, full of false\naffirmations. The old man\u2019s heart was pierced with grief and terror in\ncontemplating the frightful toils into which his innocent and beautiful\nniece had fallen. To conceal the awful fact from Martha was his first\nthought\u2014and then he was prepared for any labor, for any sacrifice to\nrescue Mary.\n\nThe whole city was in a blaze of excitement over this new sensation. It\nwas the great topic of conversation everywhere.\n\nAnd her crime? Oh! said the people, it is terrible! A female atheist!\ndenying all the gods, and worshiping a Jew who was crucified between two\nthieves!\n\nAll agreed that she deserved her fate; and that it would be the most\nentertaining sight of the season, and a death-blow to the conspiracy.\n\n\u201cAnd see!\u201d said they, \u201cthe noble mercy of Lelius! If she recants at any\ntime before the opening of the amphitheatre, she will be released.\u201d\n\nThen they all agreed that it would be very cowardly and disgusting in her\nto recant. They admired an unbending and not a repentant sinner.\n\nBeltrezzor was a plain, childlike man, having no ingenuity for indirect\nattacks, or for unraveling difficult questions. Thoroughly truthful and\nhonest, he always went to work in an open, straightforward way. He felt\nthat, in the great work before him, he had but one hope, one resource\u2014his\nimmense wealth.\n\nIf he had loved money more than he did, his hope would have been greater;\nfor he would have believed that all men could be bought with a bribe.\nUnpurchasable himself, he doubted the power of money. Still he was\ncompelled to test its efficacy, for it was plainly his only resource.\n\nHe studied the situation thoroughly, deliberately. He became convinced\nthat the whole thing was the conjoint work of Simon Magus and the Roman\ngovernor. He was sure that Simon Magus, a fanatic almost to lunacy, could\nnot be deterred or withheld from a favorite project by pecuniary\nconsiderations. The government could not withdraw its proclamation without\na sacrifice of dignity; and if Lelius were approached on the subject, he\nwould probably refer it to Simon, by whom all proposals would be rejected.\n\nHe thought it best to keep away from these high dignitaries altogether,\nand to sound the subordinates. He was afraid, moreover, that if Simon\nlearned of a wealthy element working in Mary\u2019s behalf, he would increase\nhis vigilance and double his guards, so that bribery and escape would be\nalike impossible. It was best to let him believe that Mary was alone,\nhelpless and friendless.\n\nHe visited the amphitheatre and sought out the keeper of the prison\nconnected with that immense establishment. The keeper had already been\nquestioned out of his patience by crowds of people to whom he gave surly\nand unsatisfactory answers. He was a Gaul by birth, a Roman soldier by\ncaptivity and necessity, Euphorbus by name. He was taciturn and apparently\nill-natured.\n\nBeltrezzor went straight to the point. He asked him no questions. He said\nsoftly:\n\n\u201cA word to you in a private room may be valuable.\u201d\n\nEuphorbus looked fixedly at him a moment, and led the way to a small\noffice within. Beltrezzor produced a sparkling gem of considerable value.\n\n\u201cI wish to speak with the young woman who is confined in the\namphitheatre.\u201d\n\n\u201cImpossible!\u201d said the keeper, gruffly.\n\n\u201cI am her uncle.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo admittance to anyone on pain of death,\u201d said the Gaul, casting a\nwistful eye on the jewel.\n\nBeltrezzor drew forth a precious stone of remarkable size and immense\nvalue.\n\n\u201cThese are yours, my friend, for a single brief interview with my niece.\u201d\n\n\u201cHark you!\u201d said Euphorbus, taking the jewels into his hand. \u201cI am willing\nto gratify and befriend you; but there are four Roman soldiers at the door\nof her cell, who permit no one but myself to go in or out.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they not under your command?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. They belong to Simon Magus, and obey only his word.\u201d\n\n\u201cLead me to them.\u201d\n\nThe old man made a touching appeal to these rough men for permission to\nsee his niece. Some large gold coins that he offered them had more\ninfluence than his eloquence. The assurance of the keeper that he would\nshield them as far as possible, decided the matter; and Beltrezzor was\nadmitted into Mary\u2019s dungeon.\n\nThe meeting between uncle and niece was affecting in the extreme. Mary had\ngreatly changed since her imprisonment. A deadly pallor pervaded her\nbeautiful countenance, and she had the air of one whose delicate nerves\nhad almost given way under prolonged terrors. The old man clasped her in\nhis arms, and the bitter tears fell from his face upon her golden hair.\n\n\u201cOh uncle!\u201d said she, \u201cis it not horrible to contemplate? A young girl\nstripped and thrown to a lion before thousands of people! Are they not\ndevils in human form who can witness such things?\u201d\n\nShe trembled; her eyeballs started with horror; the cold drops stood on\nher forehead; she clung frantically to her uncle.\n\n\u201cOh! I have thought of it,\u201d she said, \u201cuntil I shall go mad! And then to\nhear the lion roaring at night! It is fearful. He is kept very, very near\nme. Is not that cruel, cruel? I hear every sound he makes. I hear him\ngrowling and crunching when they feed him. I hear him yawning and whining\nas he impatiently paces his cage. Then at night he roars as if he thought\nhe was in the pathless forest. Oh it freezes me! I cannot eat. I cannot\nsleep. I shall die!\u201d\n\nThe head of the young woman fell upon the old man\u2019s breast.\n\n\u201cHave you never thought, my child,\u201d he said, tremulously, \u201cof saving your\nlife by renouncing your religion?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, uncle! never! never!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s a brave girl!\u201d said he, tenderly kissing her forehead; \u201cand you\nshall be saved without it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not afraid of death, uncle, but of the lion. But I doubt not\u2014oh! I\ndoubt not that Jesus will support me even in that last extremity. I\ncannot, however, control my fears.\u201d\n\nThe old man cheered her with many tender words and promises of help and\nassurances of speedy rescue. Promising to visit her twice every day, he\ndeparted to mature some plan for her deliverance.\n\nThat evening he was plunged in a deep and painful reverie. Neither Martha\nnor Mary Magdalen could engage him in conversation. He sat with head\nbetween his hands. He retired early.\n\nDuring the night Martha heard groans issuing from his chamber. She lit her\nlamp and entered softly. Beltrezzor, pale and haggard, lay upon his back\nwith his face upturned to heaven. He had been weeping in his sleep. His\nlips were moving as if in prayer.\n\nFaithful, loving old man!\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXVII.\n\n\n                            _HELENA __AGAIN._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nWhen my uncle came out to his morning meal, a strange transformation had\ntaken place. He was buoyant and cheerful; his face was radiant with a\npleasing vivacity. Indeed he was absolutely mirthful. Martha regarded him\nwith profound astonishment, which gave way to fear that the dear old man\nhad lost his reason, when he burst out into the following speech:\n\n\u201cRejoice, my friends! rejoice, my children! I have got it fixed. I see our\nway clearly out of all our troubles. Get ready, as quickly but as quietly\nas you can, to leave this horrible place. Be silent as the grave. A ship\nwill be ready for us on Sunday afternoon; and while these mad people are\nyelling in their vile amphitheatre, she will weigh anchor, slip her cable,\nand with Mary on board and angels smiling on the voyage, her prow will\npoint steadily for the land of Gaul.\u201d\n\nDuring this speech he was rubbing his hands with glee; and at the\nconclusion of it he waved them over his head in an excited manner. His\nlisteners showed by their silence and the tears in their eyes what they\nthought of this singular conduct.\n\n\u201cCome, come!\u201d said the old man, resuming his usual gravity, \u201cI am in\nearnest. God has revealed what I must do, in a dream. I know exactly where\nMary is. She is well and will soon be happy. You must obey me. Ask me no\nquestions. Trust in me implicitly. All will be right.\u201d\n\nSeeing Beltrezzor so thoroughly in earnest, the little group became\nhopeful and cheerful, and proceeded with alacrity to make preparations for\nthe sudden and strange journey. Beltrezzor went out into the city, and was\nincessantly occupied in arranging and working for his remarkable\nenterprise. He barely came home to sleep at night, so much had he to do in\nso little time.\n\nHe continued as vivacious as ever. His spirits, his hope, his assurance,\nseemed to rise every hour. At last, the evening before the Sabbath, the\nlittle party with their baggage were quietly transferred after nightfall\nfrom the house of Salothel to a beautiful new ship anchored away up at the\nvery end of the long pier which adorns the river front of Antioch.\n\nWhen they were all safe on board the vessel, Beltrezzor took Martha into\nthe cabin, and opening a closet, he showed her several boxes of rosewood\nbound with brass bands.\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d he said, \u201cis full of golden coins of various sizes and value. This\ncontains jewels of incalculable splendor wrought by the greatest\nartificers in the East. This conceals precious stones of great beauty and\nhigh price. And this last contains some genuine diamonds, brought from the\nremotest India, and which would excite the envy of kings and queens.\n\n\u201cHere are the keys to them all. Take them.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd all this immense wealth,\u201d said Martha in amazement.\n\n\u201cOne half of it is for you and Mary.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the other half?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs for the man who brings Mary to this vessel to-morrow and conducts it\nto Gaul.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, generous uncle; and for yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cSomething far more valuable than all that.\u201d\n\nMy uncle returned to the house of Salothel to sleep, fearing lest its\nsudden evacuation should excite the suspicion of the neighbors. Several\nservants also, bribed to profound secrecy, were to remain until after the\nSabbath. Beltrezzor was obliged to move with great caution. A single false\nstep might ruin everything. If the parties who were plotting the\ndestruction of Mary obtained the least clue to his movements, his whole\nscheme might be thwarted. Mary would be given to the lion, the rest seized\nand perhaps murdered, and his splendid estate confiscated. He could not\nsleep a moment under the weight of such tremendous responsibilities.\n\nIt was the next morning, the day of the Jewish Sabbath, when the grand\nexhibition was to take place at the amphitheatre, that I arrived at\nAntioch. Just as my uncle was leaving the house for ever, he met me at the\ndoor. I thought he would have started from me as from a ghost. But he was\none of those quiet men whom nothing ever surprised. He gave me a sedate\nbut cordial welcome, just as if he had been expecting me. He had\ndifficulty in calming my excitement and fury when I learned what a\nshocking fate was impending over my youngest and most beautiful sister.\n\nHe would not tell me anything about the means he had adopted for Mary\u2019s\ndeliverance. I was very restive under this burden of secrecy and mystery.\n\n\u201cBe quiet, my son,\u201d he said, \u201cor you will mar all. You have come into the\nfight too late to understand the exact state of the parties and to take\ncommand. Be patient. Do the part I give you. Do it well, and trust to me\nfor the rest. We must not be seen together, for you may be watched, and\nthat might betray me. You must not go to the ship until the hour of\nstarting, for you might be followed there, and that might ruin us both.\n\n\u201cStay in the house until nearly four o\u2019clock. At four o\u2019clock precisely be\nat the north-east angle of the amphitheatre on the opposite side of the\nstreet. You will see a chariot standing there with the letter G in gilt\nupon its side. A servant will be holding a gray horse a few paces off. At\nfour, precisely, two persons will come out of one of the rear doors of the\namphitheatre. They will enter the chariot and drive away rapidly. Mount\nthe horse and follow them. Ten minutes afterward you will be in the arms\nof your sisters!\u201d\n\nI was very much dissatisfied with this arrangement. I felt that the stake\nwas too immense and sacred for the whole work to be left to the knowledge,\nthe discretion and the energy of one man. But my uncle was resolute in\nkeeping his plan for Mary\u2019s deliverance entirely to himself. He bade me\nadieu. There was a singular tenderness in his words:\n\n\u201cGood-bye, Lazarus. I need not conceal from you the fact that there is\ndanger in this enterprise. You may never see me again. You will take care\nof your sisters in my place. Be honest, be faithful, be good. If my plan\nsucceeds, this will be the greatest, happiest day of my life. Courage!\nAdieu.\u201d\n\nThe old sweet smile irradiated his face, and he went off as gayly as if he\nwere going to a feast instead of entering upon a dangerous enterprise.\n\nI went up stairs in the now deserted house of Salothel, and sat down at an\nopen window, looking out on a beautiful public square. At any other time I\nwould have been delighted with the scene. My heart would have been cheered\nby the tender green of the soft grass, by the rustling of the leaves in\nthe wind, and the twittering of the birds among the branches. I would have\nadmired the splendid domes and spires of Antioch rising all around above\nthe tree-tops, and the brilliant tints of an eastern sky flecked with\nfantastic and fleecy clouds.\n\nBut the glories of nature and art were alike powerless on a spirit sunk\ninto the deepest abyss of sorrow and fear. My heart was full of the direst\nforebodings. The morning hours passed gloomily away. My restlessness\nbecame insupportable. It must have been about noon, when, looking down\ninto the public square, I saw a young man seated upon one of the iron\nbenches, whose face immediately riveted my attention. It was my old friend\nand fellow-student, Demetrius, the brother of Helena.\n\nA powerful temptation immediately assailed me. It was to do something for\nmy poor sister independently of Beltrezzor\u2019s schemes, so that if one\nfailed the other might succeed. One resource only seemed so little to\ndepend upon. I was nearly frantic waiting thus in idleness for the\nfruition of an unknown plan which might fail at the very moment when its\nsuccess was expected.\n\nI said to myself:\n\n\u201cI will speak to Demetrius. He has a good heart and a clear brain. He may\nsuggest something which may lead to good. He may enlist Helena in our\nbehalf, if Helena is here. I cannot see what harm can come of it.\u201d\n\nI went down into the square. Demetrius was overjoyed to see me. He did\nnot, however, seem surprised to find me in Antioch. We sat down together\nand I told him all our troubles. I unbosomed my whole grief to him like a\nbrother. I had the discretion to say nothing of Beltrezzor, resolving to\nlet the old man work out his own plan alone. If harm came to any one, it\ncould only be to myself.\n\nDemetrius knew that the condemned woman was my sister, and professed the\ndeepest interest and sympathy in her case. I pleaded the youth, and the\ninnocent and sweet character of Mary, against the charge of foul and\ndangerous heresy.\n\nHe seemed to think the heresy was bad enough, for he indulged in the most\ncontemptuous expressions against Jesus and his disciples. \u201cBut,\u201d said he,\n\u201cit is all the work of Lelius. No one can aid you so efficiently as Simon\nMagus. Great magician and sorcerer as he has been and is still, he is a\nnoble and generous man. I am confident he will assist you in delivering\nyour sister from her fearful peril. He is now lecturing to a select\naudience on the great points of his new philosophy. Come with me to his\npalace and hear him. When he has finished, we will consult together as to\nwhat is to be done.\u201d\n\nI followed him; and ascending the marble steps of a princely mansion, and\npassing through a great hall adorned with statues and immense vases of\nflowers, we were ushered into a room of moderate size, but superbly\nfurnished. The audience nearly filled the place, for there were but two or\nthree chairs near the door.\n\nSimon Magus, on a raised platform, was in the very heat and height of an\neloquent discourse. His subject was the nature of the soul and its\ntransformations. His voice was winning, his gestures expressive, his eye a\nblaze of intellectual fire. His language was full of Orientalisms and\nEgyptian mysticisms. Taught in the severer school of Grecian philosophy,\nand blessed with the far greater analytic light of spiritual knowledge, I\nperceived at once that the influx of ideas into his mind came from\ncunning, subtle, evil spirits, and that the tendency of his words was to\nbewilder, dazzle and betray.\n\n\u201cYou saw me,\u201d said he, \u201cturn water into wine just now. You saw me turn\nsilver into gold. You saw me resolve a rose into nothing; you saw me\nrestore it as it was before. These things, I told you, were symbolic of\nspiritual transformations.\n\n\u201cWhen the spirit by prayer, by faith, by watching, by study, by\nabstinence, by suffering\u2014is purified and etherealized, it undergoes\nsimilar transformations, and from water becomes wine; from silver becomes\ngold; from human becomes divine. Thus it is that I have become the power\nof God\u2014the Son of God\u2014the Word of God; and that I have still a holier\nname, incommunicable to you.\n\n\u201cIn this state I have supreme control over matter. You saw me a little\nwhile ago take up a deadly serpent. It bit a dog before your eyes and the\ncreature died in a minute. It fastened itself upon my hands and my cheeks;\nI was unhurt. You saw me swallow balls of fire. I am unharmed. So I can\nfloat in the air like a bird; I can live under water like a fish. I can\npoint my finger at a tree, and it will wither. I can call to a cloud, and\nit comes to me. I can curse a city, and it will sink into the sea.\u201d\n\nThere was an excited and admiring murmur among his credulous hearers. The\nfanatical impostor continued:\n\n\u201cThese powers are awful and incomprehensible to you who do not possess\nthem. They are only given to the wise who use them wisely. But I have\nattained to a height of glory, in comparison with which these first labors\nand results are insignificant. Having become the emanation of God, I can\ncreate souls out of nothing. I can restore souls to life which had been\ngiven to annihilation. I will show you a soul I have created.\u201d\n\nThere was a great murmur of astonishment and applause. The curtains were\nnow drawn and the room darkened. The wall behind Simon appeared to open,\nand the most beautiful sight was presented to view that I have ever\nwitnessed. The chamber beyond was one resplendent glory of golden light.\nIt did not seem to be lighted, but to be filled with light as a golden\nvapor. In the midst of the room, half-way between the floor and ceiling,\nboth of which seemed to be mirrors of shining brass, hung or floated a\nrosy cloud, shaped like a throne, over which was a canopy of celestial\nazure. On that throne was seated Helena, my first and only love.\n\nI turned to look Demetrius in the face at this splendid creation (?) of\nhis gifted brother-in-law. Demetrius had left the room unobserved.\n\n\u201cSimon,\u201d said I to myself, \u201chas lost his old sublime faith in his\ndiabolical art, and has resorted to magical impostures.\u201d\n\nI turned my attention to Helena. Now I solemnly avow that the woman, her\nchair and all, whatever they may have been, were ten feet in the air,\nentirely unsupported by anything visible to mortal eye. Whether this was\nsome magical trick, really explicable by natural law, or effected by the\nassistance of evil spirits, I do not know. Of this, however, I am certain,\nfrom experience and knowledge acquired in the spiritual world, that evil\nspirits can, under certain conditions, lift the heaviest articles high in\nthe air and keep them there for a considerable time.\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d said Simon Magus, enjoying the ineffable amazement of his\nhearers\u2014\u201cthis is the soul of Helen of Sparta, who caused the Trojan war.\nShe was annihilated for her extreme wickedness. I have recalled her to\nlife; and, wonderful to relate, I have purified and spiritualized her\nwhole nature by the sanctifying influence of my presence.\u201d\n\nI gazed upon this strange scene with intense interest, and was soon\nenchanted with the face of Helena. Never in this world have I seen\nfeatures of such exquisite beauty; and neither in this world nor in the\nother have I seen a face expressive of such womanly love, tenderness,\nsweetness and purity. The white peace of heaven was enthroned upon her\nbrow, and the softness of infinite pity beamed in her eyes. If she was a\npicture, it was a subject for boundless enthusiasm. If she was living, she\nwas an object for profound adoration.\n\nSo thought every one who looked on. It is strange that I did not remember\nwhat I had been taught in the world of spirits, that syrens and wicked\nwomen there can counterfeit angelic forms so cunningly as to deceive the\nangels themselves for a while.\n\n\u201cThere,\u201d said I, to myself, \u201cis a gentleness, a holiness, a purity, a\nmercy which I know will save my sister from the lion.\u201d\n\nThe curtain or wall or whatever it was, was closed, and Simon went on with\nhis lecture. I did not hear a word of it, so rapt was I in the\ncontemplation of Helena\u2019s seraphic face.\n\n\u201cOh, if I could speak to that vision of superlative beauty, I am sure she\nwould befriend my poor sister.\u201d\n\nSuddenly Demetrius touched me on the shoulder and whispered:\n\n\u201cMy sister wishes to see you.\u201d\n\nI followed him, asking no questions, bewildered, unthinking, but\nwhispering to myself, \u201cHelena wishes to see me!\u201d\n\nWe passed through the superb hall, and opening a door near the end of it,\nDemetrius ushered me into the room without entering himself. Helena\nadvanced to meet me. I was delighted with the extraordinary warmth of her\nreception. If we had been passionate lovers long separated, she could not\nhave manifested more pleasure at seeing me!\n\nSuperbly beautiful as she was, that heavenly radiance and purity which I\nhad seen upon her countenance a few moments before, had vanished. There\nwas nothing spiritual in her expression. She was plainly no spirit and no\nsoul just created, but a perfectly formed, glowing, enchanting woman of\nflesh and blood. I was about questioning her on the subject of her\nextraordinary deception, when she spoke:\n\n\u201cI knew you wanted to see me. I sent Demetrius out to look for you. You\nare in trouble, and I long to assist you. Sit down with me on these\ncushions and tell me all your story.\u201d\n\nShe touched a little bell, and a tall, stately servant appeared at the\ndoor.\n\n\u201cWine and refreshments,\u201d said Helena.\n\nWe sat down together, and I told her all about poor Mary, still wisely\nomitting the part of Beltrezzor. The tears glistened in her brilliant\neyes, and she exclaimed:\n\n\u201cAs soon as Simon finishes his lecture, I will persuade him to grant your\nrequest. I have great power over him.\u201d\n\nA pang shot through my heart as I thought of Simon\u2014the husband of this\nresplendent object of my youthful adoration. Alas! what was Helena to me?\nWhy did I not remember the fatal effect of her love upon me? Why did I not\nremember the lessons of the spiritual world? Are there not passions which\nwe can never conquer, struggle as we may? Are there not Canaanites of the\nsoul that can never be expelled?\n\nThe wine and refreshments were brought, and Helena whispered something to\nthe servant. I heard only the last words, \u201cTell him to make haste.\u201d I\nthought it was a message to Simon, and that my dear benefactress was\nimpatient to intercede for my sister.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d she said, \u201cpledge our future joys in this delicate wine, and then\ntell me all about that wonderful voyage they say you made into the world\nof spirits.\u201d\n\nFool that I was! excited by the powerful liquor, and still more\nintoxicated by the presence and smiles of that bewitching woman who\nrepeatedly took my hand in hers, I profaned sacred things by lowering them\nto the level of her vulgar and sensual mind. She seemed vastly entertained\nby my story; and when I described the great feast of Grecian spirits, and\nher own splendid appearance in the scene, and her terrible metamorphosis,\nshe laughed uproariously, and said it was one of the most charming stories\nshe had ever heard in her life.\n\nThere was a sound of footsteps in the adjoining room.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d she said, filling my glass, \u201cdrink to the morrow which shall be\nhappier than to-day.\u201d\n\nThere was a rap or signal upon the wall.\n\n\u201cSimon\u2019s lecture is over,\u201d she said, rising. \u201cThis is his audience-chamber\nin which he receives a few pupils who question him on the deeper points of\nhis subject. Their conversation would be very dull to us in our mood. Let\nus retire into my chamber, until they disperse, when we can speak to Simon\nalone.\u201d\n\nI followed her to the door of the room from which the signal had come. I\nhesitated, abashed, at the thought of entering her chamber.\n\n\u201cOh come along,\u201d she said, grasping my arm. \u201cDo not be afraid of my\nchamber. It has carpets which render your feet inaudible. It has pictures\nand statues which ravish your senses.\u201d\n\nWith that she drew me into the room.\n\nI was immediately seized from behind by several powerful men, and thrown\nto the floor. With a peal of devilish laughter, my betrayer fled back into\nthe audience-chamber.\n\nI looked up, and Magistus was regarding me with a diabolical smile. A man\nwas standing by him who riveted my attention. He was black, but his face\nwas full of hideous white spots. One eye was gone, lids and all, so as to\nleave a frightful deep hole in its place. He wore a red turban. This\nstrange, repulsive creature stooped to fasten a kind of iron bracelet on\nmy feet. I watched him in silence. He softly kissed the top of my foot\nunseen by the others.\n\nI knew him. It was Ethopus. Poor Ethopus!\n\nHelena peered in at the door with her beautiful, laughing face.\n\n\u201cHow does my boy-lover like my bed-chamber?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow could you betray me in this atrocious manner?\u201d said I, indignantly.\n\n\u201cMagistus offered me a beautiful diamond ring to get you into his power.\nYou know we women could never resist the fascination of diamond rings!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my poor sister!\u201d I exclaimed, in despair.\n\n\u201cTrue, I had forgotten about her. It is time to dress for the\namphitheatre. The gladiators interest me very little, but I would not miss\nseeing a woman eaten up by the lion, even for a diamond ring. Good-bye.\u201d\n\nThe demon departed. The vision of the woman-serpent in the world of\nspirits was a prophecy.\n\nI had fallen again\u2014this time how low! into what an abyss!\n\nThe amphitheatre was open! and great Heavens! I was bound hand and foot\nand cast into a dungeon.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                 XXVIII.\n\n\n                              _TO THE LION._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nThe day preceding these surprising events, Beltrezzor had taken the keeper\nof the prison aboard the new ship which lay at the pier. He had shown him\nthe immense treasures in his rosewood boxes\u2014the accumulation of a long\nlife and successful trade in the far Eastern countries which abound in\ndiamonds and precious stones.\n\nEuphorbus opened his eyes in great astonishment. He had never seen so much\nwealth before. To his feeble arithmetic it was absolutely incalculable.\n\n\u201cEuphorbus,\u201d said my uncle, looking toward the blue line of the sea which\nwas visible in the distance, \u201cif this vessel sails from this point\nto-morrow evening at four o\u2019clock, do you think she could get out of the\nriver and to sea before night came on, to escape any vessel started in\npursuit of her half an hour after she weighed anchor?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, she could not be overtaken by any sail now in the river?\u201d\n\n\u201cI make liberal calculations. I say half an hour, but she will have an\nhour or two hours the start.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen she is perfectly safe,\u201d said the other.\n\n\u201cEuphorbus!\u201d continued my uncle, looking him in the face, \u201cyou are a Gaul.\nAway over there lies your beautiful country, with its glorious mountains,\nits swift rivers, its rich fields, its vineyards, its brave warriors. Do\nyou not wish to see it again?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the soldier with a sigh.\n\n\u201cHere you are a stranger, an exile, a prisoner yourself. What are these\nRomans to you, hereditary enemies, that you should obey them? robbers and\nmurderers of your friends and countrymen, that you should love them?\u201d\n\n\u201cI despise them,\u201d said Euphorbus, gruffly.\n\n\u201cIn Gaul you could be happy. You could return to your old home perhaps.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Romans have burnt it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou could rebuild it. You could take care of your mother in her old age.\nYou could have a wife at your side and children about your knees.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not talk about these things!\u201d said the Gaul. \u201cThey sadden me.\u201d\n\n\u201cTalk about them? You shall have them; they are yours. This vessel is\nyours; one-half of that immense treasure is yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cMine? mine?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yours, on one condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat condition?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat you bring my little Mary out of the amphitheatre to-morrow\u2014\u201d and the\nold man, overpowered by the strain upon his feelings, burst into tears.\n\nEuphorbus was deeply moved.\n\n\u201cYou ask an impossibility! Oh that I could\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you if you can?\u201d exclaimed the old man, earnestly seizing him by the\nhand.\n\n\u201cCertainly I will\u2014\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is all I ask!\u201d said Beltrezzor. \u201cLeave it to me. Let me into your\nprivate room at three o\u2019clock and I will explain everything to you. If you\nare not satisfied you can then refuse.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou speak mysteries,\u201d said the Gaul; \u201cbut you yourself are a mystery.\nCome, as you promise. My life is not much, and I am willing to risk it for\nyou and your little Mary as you call her.\u201d\n\nMy uncle had been twice every day to visit his niece. The more he saw of\nher helplessness, her purity, her suffering and her terror, the more she\nentwined herself about his heart, and the more resolutely did he labor to\nachieve her deliverance. She clung to him so tenderly, and as the fatal\nhour approached her fear of the lion became so heartrending, that the old\nman could hardly tear himself from her embraces.\n\nThe Roman guard, accustomed to him, received his coins smilingly and\nscarcely noticed his coming out. For three days before the Sabbath he had\nworn a green shade over his eyes.\n\n\u201cI got dust in them,\u201d said he to the soldiers, \u201cand an old man\u2019s eyes are\nweak.\u201d\n\nThree o\u2019clock, Sabbath, arrived. Beltrezzor was admitted into the private\nroom of the keeper. The amphitheatre was crowded, and crowds were still\npressing on the outside for admission. The games and combats were going\non, to the great delight of the immense audience, for they occasionally\nshook the building with shouts of laughter and thunders of applause. The\nhuge lion, irritated by these noises and raging with hunger, sent up roar\nafter roar, which appalled the stoutest hearts among the spectators.\n\nEuphorbus, stern and pale, came into his office.\n\n\u201cNow for your plan,\u201d said he to Beltrezzor. \u201cIt is now or never.\u201d\n\nMy uncle drew from the ample folds of his robe a package, which he laid on\na table.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d said he, \u201cattention! Mary and I are to change places. She is to\ncome out with you, disguised as her uncle. I am to remain in the dungeon,\ndisguised as Mary.\u201d\n\nEuphorbus staggered back with protruded eyes.\n\n\u201cAnd to be thrown to the lion yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the only way,\u201d said the old man, slowly and meekly.\n\nEuphorbus fell upon his neck and kissed his cheek:\n\n\u201cI have heard that heroes were sometimes elevated into gods; but you are\nthe only man of whom I could believe it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou see,\u201d continued Beltrezzor, \u201chere is a mask of the finest parchment,\npainted in imitation of Mary\u2019s face, with long beautiful golden hair\nattached to the headpiece.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is indeed an astonishing likeness. The face is perfect. And where is\nthe mask in imitation of yours?\u201d\n\nHe untied a string behind his neck, and drew off his hair and beard at\nonce. He was a beardless bald old man. He wore his mask.\n\n\u201cAny one wearing this would be mistaken for me. There was one difficulty\nabout the eyes. We got over that by wearing the green shade. There was\nanother about the nose and mouth. She must hold her handkerchief to her\nface, as is natural in grief. The illusion will be complete.\n\n\u201cHere are two flat pieces of cork,\u201d he continued, \u201cto be put into my\nsandals, which are peculiarly constructed so as to conceal them. That will\nadd an inch to Mary\u2019s height. Then you see my turban is so arranged that a\nlittle traction here elevates it an inch more. That will make it right,\nfor she is nearly as tall as I am. The robes you know we can simply\nexchange.\u201d\n\nThe old man dwelt upon these details until he convinced Euphorbus that the\nsingular exchange was perfectly feasible.\n\nThe voice of Simon Magus was now heard in the courtyard. He had just\nlooked into Mary\u2019s window to see that his victim had not escaped. He threw\nthe guard some money. He then spoke to three men who stood before him with\nlong poles in their hands, each pole having an iron hook at the end of it.\nHe spoke so loud that Mary and every one heard him:\n\n\u201cYou will stand inside the iron railing and watch the lion\u2019s attack. So\nlong as he eats the neck and shoulders or the lower half of the body, let\nhim alone. When he begins upon the chest, drag the body away from him with\nyour hooks. Remember! I want the woman\u2019s heart uninjured. If you cannot do\nit, I will give the signal for the keepers to throw in the murderer\nTrebonius. That will save my prize and satisfy the people.\u201d\n\nAfter this horrible speech he entered the amphitheatre by a private way\nand resumed his seat near the gorgeous chair of Lelius.\n\n\u201cThe coast is clear,\u201d said Euphorbus. \u201cNow is our time.\u201d\n\nThey entered the courtyard. Euphorbus gave the guards double money.\n\n\u201cOur poor old friend,\u201d said he, \u201cis overwhelmed with grief to-day. He\ncannot speak. It is his last visit.\u201d\n\nThey passed into the dungeon. Mary was crouching in one corner, white as a\ncorpse. She sprang to her uncle\u2019s arms. She could not speak; she could not\nweep. Terror had paralyzed the fountains of thought and sorrow.\n\n\u201cI have come to save you, my child,\u201d said the old man, \u201cCourage! and you\nwill be free in ten minutes. Lazarus is in the street waiting for you.\nMartha is on a beautiful ship waiting for you. In one hour you will be on\nthe blue sea sailing away from this awful city.\u201d\n\nMary stared at him in wild surprise.\n\n\u201cFree? Lazarus waiting! and Martha?\u201d\n\nThe transition from total despair to hope was too much for her weak\nnerves. She swooned.\n\nThe old man knelt by her side, kissing her hands and chafing her temples\nwhile the great tears rolled down his cheeks.\n\n\u201cToo bad! too bad!\u201d said Euphorbus, \u201cwhen time is so precious\u201d\u2014and he\nbusied himself in forcing a stimulus into her mouth.\n\nShe revived presently and sat up.\n\n\u201cYou say I may be saved, uncle. Now tell me how. I am calm and can\ncomprehend you perfectly.\u201d\n\nBeltrezzor proceeded to explain everything as he had done to Euphorbus.\nShe heard him patiently, and then said in a quiet tone:\n\n\u201cAnd, poor good man! do you think I will permit you to be eaten by the\nlion in my place? Oh no, that is impossible. Think of some other plan.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is no other way. I shall not be eaten by the lion.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy not?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I am not a Christian. You are condemned for heresy. I am a\nGentile.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut they will kill you for contriving my escape, and this good keeper\nalso.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no! That offence is not punishable with death. They will fine me\nheavily, but I am rich and can pay. The keeper will escape with you and\nprotect you.\u201d\n\nAfter much persuasion and argument on one side and many doubts and\nquestionings on the other, Mary\u2019s scruples were at last overcome, and the\ntransformation in both parties effected so adroitly that detection seemed\nimpossible.\n\nMary suddenly turned her earnest eyes on Beltrezzor\u2019s face.\n\n\u201cUncle, if you deceive me in this matter, it will kill me.\u201d\n\n\u201cCourage! my sweet girl,\u201d said the old man, smiling\u2014\u201ccome what may. I\nshall rest better to-night than I did last night; and the sun will shine\nfor me more beautifully to-morrow than it has to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come,\u201d said Euphorbus, \u201cwe must be going.\u201d\n\nOh the anguish of that parting!\n\nMary put the green shade over her eyes and the handkerchief to her mouth\nand walked slowly but bravely out with the keeper. The guard let them\npass. One fellow looked closely after them, and then stepped to the window\nand looked in. Mary with her golden tresses falling over her shoulders was\nkneeling in prayer!\n\nWho can imagine the thoughts of that brave old man, as he knelt in the\nwoman\u2019s dress, with the lion\u2019s growl in his ear! How eagerly he listened!\nHow freely he breathed when he heard no interruption in the courtyard; no\noutcry; no alarm. They are safe! How he lifted his heart to heaven!\n\nDid he spend that last hour in prayer? To what God did he pray? What faith\ndid he offer up as his claim to salvation? What matters it? Had he not\nkept the commandments of God?\n\nWas not his soul free from irreverence and profanity and theft and murder\nand adultery and perjury and uncharitableness? Did he not love his\nneighbor more than himself?\n\nThis disciple of Zoroaster, was he not a child of God?\n\nThe hour passed. There was a solemn hush in the grand amphitheatre. The\ndead gladiators were dragged from the arena. Sliding panels were withdrawn\nand the great N\u00e6mean lion was seen behind his iron bars furiously lashing\nhis sides with his tail.\n\nThe herald of Lelius cried with a loud voice:\n\n\u201cBring forth the woman!\u201d\n\nThere was a great rustling and stir in the vast audience. Every one held\nhis breath. A sudden outcry was raised from the prison:\n\n\u201cShe has escaped!\u201d\n\nIt was echoed by a thousand hoarse whispers in the crowd\u2014\u201cShe has\nescaped!\u201d There was a tremendous excitement. All stood upon their feet.\nHow? where? when? by whom? echoed from all sides. Simon Magus, a picture\nof flaming wrath, leaped into the arena and ran through the walk enclosed\nby iron railings that led into the prison.\n\nHe returned in a moment dragging the poor, old, bald-headed and beardless\nman by the arms, and holding up the female mask in the air, he exclaimed:\n\n\u201cThe woman and the keeper have fled; but here is the miscreant; here is\nthe criminal! Clear the arena and give him to the lion.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive him to the lion!\u201d echoed thousands of voices, followed by thunders\nof applause.\n\nA tall, stern-looking man, in the front row of seats, sprang to his feet\nand looking over to Lelius, exclaimed:\n\n\u201cJustice! justice! This man is no Christian; this man is no heretic.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the lion\u2014to the lion!\u201d interrupted the multitude with fiercer yells\nthan before.\n\nSimon Magus motioned significantly to the governor.\n\n\u201cTo the lion,\u201d said Lelius, waving his hand.\n\n\u201cI defy you,\u201d said the speaker, in a loud and stern voice\u2014\u201cI defy you to\nthrow him to the lion.\n\n\u201cIn the name of the Senate and people of Rome I warn you that this man,\nBeltrezzor of Persia, is a Roman citizen.\u201d\n\nSilence was partly restored; all eyes glaring upon the speaker as he\ncontinued.\n\n\u201cNot by birth nor by purchase, but by special decree of the Senate for\ncommercial services rendered the Roman empire by this man, one of the\nwealthiest and noblest men of the East. I am his agent and correspondent\nfor Antioch. I have seen him before. I know him, and I can prove what I\nsay.\u201d\n\n\u201cRelease the Roman citizen,\u201d said Lelius in a proud and haughty tone,\nrising from his seat.\n\nWhilst he was speaking Beltrezzor sank gently to the ground. He had been\nreleased by an authority higher than that of Rome.\n\n\u201cHe is dead!\u201d exclaimed a thousand voices at once.\n\n\u201cHe died of fear,\u201d said Simon Magus.\n\n\u201cHe died of joy,\u201d said the voice from the benches; \u201cfor that face is the\nface of an angel.\u201d\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXIX.\n\n\n                           _CHRISTIAN CANDLES._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nOf all these things I was ignorant. I was bound and in prison, helpless,\nunfriended, unable to communicate with my friends. I bitterly repented\nhaving disobeyed my uncle\u2019s orders. I cursed Demetrius and Simon Magus and\nHelena and Magistus. I cursed myself. Mary perhaps was devoured by the\nlion! Or if saved, she and Martha and Beltrezzor were out on the blue sea,\nand I left to perish in my folly.\n\nA day or two afterward I observed that our prison ward had received a\nconsiderable accession of captives. I was then told by the keeper that a\nfemale heretic condemned to the lion had escaped, and that Lelius had\nordered the arrest of all the Christians in the city, hoping to ferret out\nthe parties who had assisted her. How my heart leaped for joy! My sister\nwas saved!\n\nMy own captivity became a little more endurable. I delighted to think of\nmy friends sailing away over the white-crested waves for the happy land of\nGaul. I seemed to feel the fresh sea wind in my own hair and to hear the\ncool water dashing against the sides of their vessel. Alas! my own fate,\nhow different!\n\nI expected every hour to see the ugly and cunning face of Magistus peering\nin at my door. Several days and nights passed, and he did not come. I knew\nhe had not forgotten me. I knew he was only preparing himself for some\nextraordinary villainy and cruelty against me. I was right.\n\nLate one evening my door suddenly opened, and Magistus entered the\ndungeon, followed by Ethopus. The latter bore an immense roll of some kind\nof cloth under his arm.\n\nMagistus stood contemplating me for several minutes with folded arms and\nthe old diabolical sneer on his face. Ethopus stepped behind him with\ndowncast eyes.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d he said, slowly, \u201cfor the greatest, sweetest revenge which any man\nin this world has ever enjoyed.\n\n\u201cYou have been the bane, the curse, the evil genius of my life. I have\nalways hated you; I know not why, but that it so pleased me. If you had\nperished in the desert as I designed, all would have been well. Simon\nwould have procured the body of Mary, and we should have been gods in\npower and glory and pleasure. If you had not escaped my dungeon in\nBethany, I would not be at this moment an exile and an outcast. You have\neluded me twice. You are cunning. You have eluded the grave itself; but\nnow, my amiable nephew, your time has really come.\n\n\u201cI respect my family too much, I respect your own distinguished merits too\nmuch, to doom you to any common ignoble death. Your friend Helena and I\nhave put our brains together to devise something for your especial honor.\nWe have achieved it. It is striking, original, charming. Listen.\n\n\u201cOur plan could not be carried out without absolute power. I have it. Do\nyou see this diamond ring with this great seal upon it? That is the ring\nof the Roman governor. He who presents it to any officer, soldier, jailer,\nservant of the government, is to pass untouched, unquestioned. His word is\nlaw. When he speaks, it is obedience or death. This absolute power is\ngiven me for this whole evening by virtue of the ring.\n\n\u201cHelena obtained this favor from Lelius. Who but she could have done it?\nWho can say how she did it? Ah! she is deep; she is cunning; she is\nirresistible.\n\n\u201cNow see what we intend to do. This cloth is a stiff heavy woollen,\nthoroughly saturated with bituminous substances. We intend to bind your\narms down to your side and roll your body tightly up in this cloth, merely\nleaving out your head. This, when ignited, will burn slowly but brightly,\nand make a beautiful candle of you.\n\n\u201cBut you will fall over, you say. Oh no: a strong iron rod run deep into\nthe ground will pass through the outer layer of the cloth and keep you\nsteady by penetrating in a long, sharp, needle-like point under your chin\nand through your mouth. Could there be anything more ingenious than that?\n\n\u201cYou will be taken out in a cart to the great public square opposite the\npalace of Simon. There are twelve of you. Christian candles I have named\nyou. You will be stationed immediately opposite our grand portico. Helena\nand I, arm in arm, will witness your combustion from that point. It is\npleasant in a great crowd to know where one\u2019s true love is standing.\n\n\u201cIt is time for the fireworks to begin. The square is already crowded. We\nhave rolled up the others snugly. They will call for you in a few minutes.\nAll the orders have been given and they will be obeyed.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d he continued, turning to Ethopus. \u201cCome, my old jolly, spotted dog\nof Egypt! get to work. Simon says his last training made a perfect machine\nof you. Be quick and bind this old friend and master of yours.\u201d\n\nMy feelings of horror and of terror during this diabolical monologue, can\nbe better imagined than described. I was dumbfounded. I said nothing. I\nregarded a speedy death as now inevitable. I looked anxiously at Ethopus,\nwho stoically unrolled the cloth. He took out a strong leather band or\ngirdle. He advanced toward me. He seemed impassive as a stone. I gave\nmyself up in despair.\n\nA moment of awful suspense\u2014and all was changed.\n\nQuick as thought Ethopus turned and dashed Magistus against the wall,\nthrowing the band over his head at the same time. He pulled it down over\nhis chest and buckled it tightly, securing his arms at his side. He drew\nthe signet-ring of Lelius from his finger and threw it to me. Curses and\nstruggles were in vain; for Ethopus seemed strong as a lion and animated\nwith a terrible fury.\n\nIn another moment Ethopus hurled him upon his back, and seating himself\nupon his body, took a knife from his pocket and cut off half his tongue.\nHe then deliberately passed a stout pin through the stump and tied a\nstrong thread behind the pin. He thus stopped the blood which was pouring\nout of the wretch\u2019s mouth and gurgling in his throat. He was now dumb like\nEthopus. He could not betray him. He could not escape him.\n\nThis was one of the most horrible scenes I ever witnessed. It had\nevidently been deliberately planned. I was chained against the wall and\ncould not stir. I called out to Ethopus to stop, not to cut out his\ntongue, not to roll him up in the cloth, but to leave him bound and gagged\nuntil we escaped. He paid no more attention to my entreaties, to my\nexcitement, than if I was not present. He seemed deaf, dumb, blind,\ninsensible to everything except to the one master resolution of his soul.\n\nHe wound the body carefully up in the bituminous cloth and secured it with\nleather thongs. It was a shocking sight. He then removed my bolts and\nchains and set me free. He led me sternly and forcibly to the door, and we\npassed out, leaving Magistus to his terrible fate. He had fallen into the\nvery pit that he had dug for me.\n\nThere was no one in the hall as we came out. Ethopus took the opposite way\nfrom that by which he and Magistus came. We soon met officers and guards.\nI showed the signet-ring; no questions were asked; and we shortly found\nourselves in the street and free. What a release!\n\nI did not know which way to go. Ethopus drew me toward the public square.\nIt was crowded with people. Swinging lamps of all colors were suspended\nfrom the trees. There were bands of music and fireworks, and dancing-girls\nand flower-girls, and men with trained monkeys, and all the strange sights\nand sounds which make a great city in high carnival so brilliant and\nattractive. Heralds had announced in the afternoon that twelve favorite\ndisciples of the Jewish impostor would be burned, in the shape of candles,\nthat night. The interest was intense.\n\nWe came very near to Simon\u2019s palace. It was brilliantly illuminated. I\nrecognized the figures of Helena and Lelius and Simon and Demetrius\npromenading with others on the grand portico. The carts or wagons came\nalong with the unhappy victims. There was a great bustle in the crowd. The\nfigures were set up on a green knoll which elevated them above the heads\nof the people.\n\nOne of the Christians sang, with a clear, sweet voice:\n\n  \u201cGlory to God in the highest!\n  Peace on earth and good-will toward men!\u201d\n\nThe mob hooted and yelled and applauded, each in an uproarious manner.\n\n\u201cReady,\u201d cried an officer.\n\nThe torches were applied; and twelve bright pillars of flame rose in the\nair. There was wild cheering from the crowd; but I heard a wilder cry from\nthe spectators on the portico of Simon. The cry was:\n\n\u201cMagistus! Magistus!\u201d\n\nHis own friends recognized his face and witnessed his death-struggles!\n\nSuch was the origin of the Christian candles, a mode of fatal torture\nafterward adopted on a grand scale by the emperor Nero in his persecution\nof the disciples at Rome.\n\nPoor children of Christ! They faced death in every shape. They were\ncrucified; they were flayed alive; they were thrown to wild beasts; they\nwere cast into pits full of serpents; they were stoned; they were starved;\nthey were frozen; they were burned; but there was no form of death which\nexcelled in atrocity this invention of Magistus and Helena.\n\nHelena! Beautiful, enchanting, detestable woman! From this point our\ncurrents of life diverged never again to meet. When I look back, I can\nscarcely comprehend the causes of the wonderful control she exercised over\nmy spirit. I was young, enthusiastic, and impressible; and the senses,\neducated first, prolonged their sway over the rational faculties. I have\nbeen so long delivered from the bondage of the sensuous life, that I am\nastonished that I ever found any beauty unallied to goodness, or any\nfascination in aught but a pure and virtuous love.\n\nWomen who are given to luxury and pleasure; who aspire to captivate men by\nthe charms of the senses; who live upon the flattering incense of lovers\nand admirers; who are cunning, proud, vain, ambitious and contemptuous\ntoward others, are Helenas at heart. Circumstances beyond their control\nmay curb their wills and prevent the outward development of their\ncharacters. But the revealing light of the spiritual world will show them\nto be selfish, sensual and cruel to a dreadful degree; and they become the\nsyrens of hell.\n\nThese characters are so fearfully wicked, that some may think them gross\nexaggerations. Exceptional they may be, even in these evil times; but they\nare the genuine offspring of our natural lusts unsubdued and uncontrolled\nby the sacred laws and life of heaven. They are the common, every-day\ncharacters of the spheres of the unhappy in the spiritual world, and they\nexist in potency, if not in act, in every human being whose heart is\nalienated from God, or whose ruling love is the love of self.\n\nI had no time to philosophize in this manner, when I knew that the friends\nof Magistus had recognized his face before it was concealed by the fatal\nflames. A keen and rapid pursuit would immediately follow in every\ndirection. To get out of the city was our first thought, our only safety.\nIf we took the roads to the interior of the country, we could certainly be\novertaken. If we struck out eastwardly for the sea-beach, we might pick up\nsome fisherman\u2019s boat and escape to sea. We took the latter course.\n\nWe walked rapidly, and were many miles up the coast before midnight. I was\nfresh and under high excitement, and Ethopus seemed capable of all\nendurance. I occupied the time in telling him the whole history of his\nbrother Anthony, and in thanking him over and over again for my\nextraordinary deliverance. The poor, dumb man could only manifest his\ndelight by shaking my hand and patting me on the shoulder, which he\nrepeatedly did.\n\nSeveral hours more and I was thoroughly fatigued. Just before dawn we lay\ndown under a great tree on the banks of a little stream which was\nperpetually tripping from the mountains toward the sea, bearing its\ncrystal tokens from the spirit of liberty in the one to the kindred soul\nin the other.\n\nWhen I awoke, the sun was high in the heavens. Ethopus was bathing his\nfeet in the little river. He could not bear to disturb me, as I appeared\nso exhausted and so sound asleep. He pointed smilingly to a little boat,\nwhich we had not discovered in the darkness of the night. There was one\nark of hope and safety. I felt reassured. We had nothing to eat but some\napples, which we had plucked by the way. We made this frugal meal, and if\nwe had put to sea immediately, the whole story of my life, from this\npoint, might have been different.\n\nThe morning was bright and balmy. A little silver mist rose softly from\nthe woods, the leaves of which were twinkling with dew. The sea\u2019s surf,\nwhich at times is so white and boisterous, rippled gently against the\nyellow beach. The singing of birds was heard here and there in the\nbranches, and now and then a great shining fish flapped up out of the\nwater. The air was sweet and serene, the sky soft and pure. \u201cThis heavenly\npeace and repose of nature,\u201d said I to myself, \u201cis neither silence nor\nsolitude!\u201d\n\nOne of the most beautiful things in the world to me is a little stream of\nclear water, afar off in the country among the green hills, breaking into\nsounds and colors over the stones and pebbles in its path. I could sit by\nthe hour on the banks of such a lovely rivulet, looking into its face and\nlistening to its music. It is there, if ever, that the breathings of the\nspirit world upon the heart endeavor to break forth from the lips in poesy\nand song.\n\nTouched that morning with this delightful and child-like love of nature, I\ncould not rest satisfied until I had bathed my weary limbs and body in the\ncooling stream. I dallied a long time among the ripples and in the shadow\nof the overhanging trees, forgetful of the painful past and the uncertain\nfuture.\n\nA sharp cry from Ethopus, who was getting the boat ready, suddenly aroused\nme from my dream. He pointed down the beach. Before I had put on my robe,\nI heard the tramp of horses, and in a few moments we were surrounded by a\ntroop of cavalry and taken prisoners. Bound tightly and mounted behind two\nof the soldiers, we were hurried back to Antioch and cast into separate\ndungeons.\n\nI lay there for several weeks neglected and alone. I had at least no fear\nof a visit from Magistus. A visitor, however, at last appeared. It was\nDemetrius.\n\n\u201cLazarus,\u201d said he, \u201cI reproach myself for the part I took in decoying you\ninto the house of Simon and betraying you into the hands of Magistus. It\nwas not well done toward a fellow-student of the Platonic philosophy. I\nhave labored to make you amends. I have saved your life, but it was a hard\nstruggle. Ethopus was thrown to the lion. Helena pouted and fumed because\nyou did not share his fate. Lelius was for a long time inflexible. I have\ngained something for you, although not much. You are condemned for life to\nthe chain-gang of criminals who are compelled to labor on the public\nworks. It is a sad fate, but you are young. Time, the revolutionist,\nsometimes releases the bound.\u201d\n\n\u201cLife is sweet,\u201d said I, \u201cand I thank you. I forgive your wrong to me. I\nforgive Helena and Simon. I will pray for them and you. And, oh,\nDemetrius, let a man, henceforth dead to the world you live in, beseech\nyou to extricate yourself from this terrible network of evil that\nsurrounds you. Aspire to be free, just, true and good, and you will be\nhappy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere did you get this religious philosophy?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom a greater than Plato\u2014from Christ.\u201d\n\nHe turned away.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                   XXX.\n\n\n                           _THE GREAT COMBAT._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nBehold me then at the age of twenty-five, innocent of crime, sentenced to\nthe life and labors of a convict! My associates were the lowest ruffians\nimaginable. My fare was coarse and sometimes revolting. I was locked up\nalone at night in a dark cell. I slept on a pallet of straw. From sunrise\nto sunset I was compelled to labor on the public works, chained by the leg\nto another creature as miserable as myself.\n\nYoung as I was, I had already met with strange adventures and made\nhairbreadth escapes. I was long buoyant and hopeful, and was constantly\nexpecting some lucky turn of the wheel of fortune. There was, indeed, very\nlittle rational ground of hope. My uncle Beltrezzor was dead. My sisters\nhad escaped to the other end of the world, and were not likely to return.\nNot one of the few Christians of the city knew anything about my being\nthere, for I had seen no one but Beltrezzor. Demetrius alone knew my\nwhereabouts, and by command of Simon he had entered a false name for me on\nthe books of the prison. So I was lost and buried from the social world in\nwhich I had moved.\n\nI did not believe that my imprisonment would be of long duration. Young,\neducated, wealthy, I thought I was needed by the infant Church. The\nsubject of the greatest miracle of Christ, my very presence was an\nargument in favor of Christianity. Then my experiences in the spiritual\nworld had given me knowledge superior to that of all the disciples;\nknowledge necessary to the organization of the faith upon truly rational\nprinciples. To suspect even that one so valuable to the holy cause could\nbe imprisoned for life, without a future, without a mission, was to doubt\nthe wisdom of Providence and the verity of my death and resurrection.\n\nIt was thus that the secret pride of my selfhood buoyed me up in the\ndirest adversity, and that my own self-righteousness became the fountain\nof hope!\n\nNotwithstanding all this, I remained a captive at hard labor for forty\nyears of my manhood! As long as the children of Israel were in the\nwilderness, so long was I in the convict prison of Antioch! Terrible\nthought!\n\nWhen I emerged from my prison-grave into the world and the Church again, I\nwas old and feeble and bronzed and broken, forgotten by all men, a cipher\nin the sphere of thought and life in which I had expected to occupy so\ncommanding a position.\n\nThe wicked and detestable emperors, those monsters of nature, Tiberius,\nCaligula, Claudius and Nero, had successively governed and cursed the\nRoman state. The Christian religion had spread into all countries; into\nSyria and Parthia and Arabia, into Egypt and Abyssinia, into Spain and\nGaul and Britain, by the zealous labors and fiery devotion of Paul and\nPeter and Barnabas and Philip and James and hundreds of lesser lights of\nthe new faith.\n\nAll this and thousands of other strange events had occurred without my\nknowledge, without my participation. The great world moved on without me.\nI knew as little of it in my prison as a child knows of the sea, who\nbathes his little feet in the surf that breaks upon the beach at his\nfather\u2019s door.\n\nThis great lapse of time, an entire manhood, so devoid of incident, so\nuninteresting to the general reader, was my real life. All that had\nhappened previously was my childhood. It was in this fearful school of\ncaptivity and sorrow and labor and solitude and darkness, that I became a\nman and a Christian. Looking backward, I am filled with gratitude for the\nwisdom and goodness of God, which infused such health and blessing into\nthe cup of bitterness which I was compelled to drink.\n\nI passed through three great spiritual eras during my captivity. Life does\nnot consist in external events, but in the revelation of spiritual states.\nThis alone is the true biography.\n\nThe first era was one of intense resistance to my fate. My disagreeable\nsurroundings annoyed and irritated me. The unaccustomed labor in the\nburning sun was almost too great for my strength. I loathed my companions\nand my keepers. I loathed my tasks. Still greater suffering was occasioned\nby my losses; the loss of friends and relatives; of books and study; of\nthe delightful society of woman; of all the thousand little things which\nconstitute the comfort and charm of civilized life.\n\nHope lingered long, and died a slow but painful death in my heart. I made\nmany efforts to escape\u2014all of which failed, and brought upon me terrible\npunishments. I was starved and scourged repeatedly, and finally branded\nfor an attack made upon one of my keepers, in which I nearly succeeded in\nkilling him. These things called out and developed all the evil qualities\nof my nature. Let the smoothest-faced, sweetest-tongued and gayest-hearted\nman in the world undergo what I have undergone, and he will discover how\nmany unrecognized devils have been dormant in the serene and undisturbed\ndepths of his being.\n\nWounded and bleeding in my self-love and self-respect, my sufferings,\nphysical and mental, seemed to have a destructive effect upon my spiritual\nnature. Destruction of the old precedes a new order of things. Along with\nhope, faith also sickened and died. For a long time I consoled myself by\nrecalling my wonderful experiences in the spiritual world. I prayed, and\nrecited to myself the sweet promises of Scripture to those in affliction.\nBut as months and years rolled away, despair overpowered me. I began to\ndoubt the truth of religion, the reliability of my own memory, and even\nthe very existence of God.\n\nSo little depth of earth had the good seed found in my heart! I, who\nthought I loved and believed in Christ; who had seen him in both worlds;\nwho conceived myself ready and able to preach his true doctrine to\nmankind; thus tried in the fiery furnace of temptation, found myself all\ndross, thoroughly skeptical and wicked, worse than the ignorant convicts\nand keepers around me.\n\nWhat mortal can comprehend the meaning of those mysterious words of the\nDivine Man on the cross: \u201cMy God! my God! why hast thou forsaken me?\u201d\n\nI felt also that God had forsaken me. When the little religious light I\nhad, faded away in my soul, I was taken possession of by demons, male and\nfemale. I verily believe that I was, for a while, what the world calls\ninsane. I became proud, and supercilious, and scoffing. I was ambitious as\nSimon, cruel as Magistus, sensual and abandoned as Helena. Escaped from\nthose wretches in the body, my spirit became the sport and prey of\ninfernal spirits similar to them. I envied the power, the glory, the magic\nof Simon. At night I dreamed only of bacchanalian orgies in a Grecian\nheaven, and awoke parched and feverish and excited and maddened, as if\nsome syren-like Helena had kissed me in my sleep.\n\nThis wretched state lasted about ten years. It culminated in a great\nillness; for relief or death had become the alternative. The illness of a\nconvict in prison! Cast upon my pallet of straw, without friends, without\nnurses, without proper diet or medicine, frequently without water; what\ndays and nights of suffering and anguish did I experience!\n\nIt was a long, long sickness. The stage of excitement was accompanied with\nwild delirium, and my imagination was haunted by fiery figures of infernal\nspirits.\n\nThen exhaustion came, and forgetfulness. Nature slowly rallied; after\nthat, thought returned, strength and feeling came back. My sisters and\nBeltrezzor and Jesus loomed up away off, as pleasant pictures or beautiful\ndreams. Many sweet little scenes of my happy childhood revisited me in\ncharming memories. I lay for hours in peaceful trances. I had consoling\nvisions. The poor convict\u2019s cell was illumined with a glory not its own.\n\nOne night I saw the house that was building for me in the heavens. It was\nrising in stately grandeur. Oh it was beautiful! but still unfinished.\nMary Magdalen was toiling away with earnest brow and face more angelic\nthan ever. Many shining spirits were about her. I was lying some distance\noff, asleep in the shadow of a great rock. She said to her companions with\na sweet smile:\n\n\u201cHe will awake presently and help me build.\u201d\n\nOne day I heard the voice of my father saying to John the Baptist,\n\n\u201cThe crisis is over; he will be saved; we must teach him the power of the\nLord\u2019s Prayer.\u201d\n\nI know not whether this was a dream or a genuine vision. But I repeated\nthe Lord\u2019s Prayer feebly and with folded hands. The effect was wonderful.\nA great light shone around me. The air was full of little cherub forms.\nHeavenly music was heard in the distance. The deepest chords of my being\nwere touched. The flood-gates of contrition were reopened. Faith returned.\nI wept. I was happy\u2014oh, so happy!\n\nThis also may have been a dream, but it was a potent medicine; for after\nthat, my recovery was amazingly rapid. I then entered into a second and\nvery different phase of my spiritual life. The devil, after casting me\nrepeatedly into the water and the fire, and rending me sorely, had\ndeparted. But I knew full well that he only departs for a season\u2014that his\nreturn is as sure as the rising of the tides. I knew that the only way to\nkeep him out, was to refurnish my house on the heavenly model.\n\nNow my knowledge of spiritual things came to be of immense advantage. Not\nan abstract, theoretical knowledge of them, but a knowledge derived from\nsight and hearing. I had seen, felt and studied the angelic sphere of\nlife. I knew what it was. I had discovered three great elements in that\nsphere, and determined to put them all into action in my own life, so as\nto bring my spirit into interior communion with angels and the Lord.\n\nThe first element was profound humility and reverence. God only enters the\nsoul which is thoroughly emptied of self. A proud Christian is a devil in\ndisguise. The angels are so thoroughly divested of the selfhood, that they\nlive and labor only for others\u2019 good; and that is living and laboring for\nGod.\n\nPrayer is the means by which humility and reverence are cultivated. It\ndoes not change the Unchangeable; it only brings the soul into that state\nin which it is receptive of the divine love and wisdom. I determined,\ntherefore, to pray\u2014for I had long neglected prayer\u2014and to pray regularly,\nsystematically, earnestly, and especially in the form or after the manner\nthat the Lord himself had appointed.\n\nThe second element of angelic life was cheerfulness. The cheerfulness of\nangels flows from the peace and joy in which they live. They cannot be\npresent in a sphere of gloom and darkness. The silent, tearful, mourning,\naustere, ascetic Christian, cuts himself off from angelic consolations,\nand renders his regeneration doubly painful and difficult. Tears and\nfastings and scourgings and solitude and fantastic self-denials do not\nlead to heaven. They block up the way thither with needless difficulties.\n\nI determined, therefore, to be cheerful; to accept my lot with graceful\nresignation; to have a genial word and pleasant smile for every one; to\navoid reveries and broodings which kept the past continually in painful\ncontrast with the present; to make a final surrender of all my grand\nambitions and glorious expectations; and to take a heartfelt pleasure in\nthe trifles of life, such as may be found even within the walls of a\nprison.\n\nThe third element of the angelic life was useful activity. An idle angel\nis an impossibility. They are all busy as bees; and like those little\npreachers to mankind, each labors intently, not for his own special\nbenefit, but for the good of all the rest. Their cheerfulness and\nusefulness run in equal and parallel streams, and they are both\nproportioned to their reverence and humility.\n\nI determined therefore to work willingly; to accept my hard tasks as those\nappointed of God; to be no longer an eye-servant but an earnest, faithful,\nintelligent co-operator in building, repairing and improving the\nmagnificent temples, baths, aqueducts, walls, quays and fortifications of\nAntioch; to treat my fellow-laborers as brethren, not by descending to\ntheir gross level, but by striving to lift them as well as myself up to\nthe height of a noble and unselfish manhood.\n\nAll this was facile and beautiful in theory, difficult and painful in\npractice. The struggle was intense; and many, many dark and miserable days\nalternated with my bright ones. It was the great warfare of my life, less\nimposing than my struggles with Magistus and Helena, but far more\nproductive of results. It was a process by which good was substituted for\nevil; but as fast only as the evil was thoroughly repented of and put\naway. It was a process of growth by which the germ of the heavenly life,\npenetrating through the dead shell of the old nature, passed upward into a\nserener light and larger liberty. It was a death and a resurrection. How\nsmall an affair was my first resurrection in comparison with this!\n\nTwenty years or more were spent in the great combat between my old natural\nman and the new spiritual man which was being conceived, born, nourished,\ninstructed and vitalized within me. I am still engaged in the same\nconflict. But after twenty years, I felt that the good had attained a\npermanent ascendency\u2014that duty had become pleasure\u2014that self was so far\nsubdued that I expected nothing, desired nothing for myself alone, and\nexperienced a serene delight in promoting the happiness of others.\n\nThe reader need not think that a convict\u2019s prison afforded no\nopportunities for the great work of regeneration, and for the development\nof Christian character. The rainbow that shines in the cloud, and glitters\nin the dew-drop, is the same. The divine influx is identical in the\ngreatest things and in the least. The patience, the meekness, the kindness\nto others, the obedience to law, the truthfulness, the industry, the\nhonesty which can be exhibited in the lowliest sphere of human life, have\nno sweeter odor, no greater worth in the sight of heaven when they are\ndisplayed on the throne of the C\u00e6sars.\n\nI worked faithfully at all my tasks until my overseers respected me so\nmuch that they did not watch me at all. I was always ready to assist every\none with word and deed, until my power over my fellow-prisoners was such\nthat my voice of intercession could suspend a quarrel or even suppress a\nriot. I delighted to instruct these poor degraded fellows in the truths of\nreligion; and when they turned a deaf ear to these, I could still please\nthem with scraps of poetry or history or science. It was a special\npleasure to nurse the sick; and in the course of twenty or thirty years,\nhundreds and even thousands felt the benefit and the blessing of my\npresence.\n\nThis steady growth of a good and useful character in spite of the sneers\nand rebuffs of the ill-disposed, and in the face of mighty difficulties,\nbrought substantial comforts to myself also. I was released from strict\nconfinement; I was made overseer of a considerable party; I was allowed\nliberties I had not known before; and I was fed with abundance from the\nofficers\u2019 table. Thus, with advancing years, I became contented and happy,\nand my means of being useful to others were greatly increased.\n\nI was permitted to plant flowers and vines in the interior courtyard of\nour prison. After long and patient labor I adorned and beautified the spot\nso greatly that it attracted the attention of every visitor.\n\nThe mission of flowers is like that of poetry, to enchant, to elevate, and\nto purify. Therefore the Spring comes annually to shower her myriads of\nfragrant little lyrics upon the world!\n\nIt seemed a shame to constrain these sweet and free children of the air\nand sunlight to illumine the interior of a dungeon and to live with\ncriminals; but I remembered that the angels whom they represent, delight\nto visit the humblest spot and to assist the most forlorn and helpless\ncreatures of God.\n\nI had been in prison about fifteen years without seeing a book, when a\nsingular old Greek character was confined with us for some nameless crime.\nHe was taciturn and stately, and evidently a man of education. He had a\ncopy of the Tragedies of Eschylus which the guard had not taken from him,\nalthough parchments so well executed as that, were of considerable value.\nHe seemed to know Eschylus by heart, and he loaned the book to me. With\nwhat delight I devoured it!\n\nIt was to me a whole flower-garden of sweets and beauties. The sad fate of\nOrestes, haunted by the Furies, struck the tenderest chords in my heart;\nand I contemplated with the joy of kinship and sympathy the grandeur of\nPrometheus chained to the rock, for holding in his possession secret\nknowledge which no tortures could compel him to reveal.\n\nI, too, was to learn the sanctity of silence!\n\nOne day the old Greek, when working on a pier, suddenly plunged twenty\nfeet into the rapid Orontes. He struck out boldly down the river for the\nsea, and the boat sent after him did not overtake the desperate swimmer.\nHe left Eschylus behind him.\n\nI had been in prison about twenty-five years, when I came into possession\nof another and far greater book. A young Jew was condemned to hard labor\nfor striking a Roman officer who had insulted his sister. He fell sick\nalmost immediately, and was carried off by grief and a rapid consumption.\nI nursed him closely, and he seemed much attached to me until he\ndiscovered that I was a Christian. He became at once stern and cold and\nuncommunicative, and ended by requesting the keeper to provide him with\nanother nurse or none at all.\n\nHe died not long after, and I was surprised at receiving a message from\nhis deathbed. He thanked me for my kindness to him, and begged me to\naccept from him a beautiful little copy of the Psalms of David.\n\nWhat a treasure I found it! It was a mirror of my own struggles; of my\nhopes and fears; of my deep humiliations and my ecstatic triumphs. It let\nme into the presence of angels. It was like the voice of God calling to\nlittle Samuel in the dead of night.\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXXI.\n\n\n                                 _FREE._\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nOne day I was summoned from my labors into a kind of reception-room to\nmeet a visitor. A visitor! I had been imprisoned thirty years and no one\nhad ever called to see me. I had forgotten the outer world and supposed it\nhad forgotten me. It was with surprise and some trepidation that I\nadvanced to present myself to the stranger.\n\nHe was of small size, ugly, stoop-shouldered and bald. His face was\nsallow, his nose aquiline, his brows heavy and joined between his eyes.\nHis air was embarrassed and timid and his speech slow. With this\nunprepossessing appearance, his manner was cordial and engaging, his tones\nagreeable, and when warmed up in conversation, his features were radiant\nwith thought and genius.\n\nThis remarkable man was Paul, the apostle to the Gentiles.\n\nAfter satisfying himself that I had been thirty years in prison and that I\nwas really Lazarus whom Christ raised from the dead, he became very\nanimated and communicative.\n\n\u201cYou will be interested,\u201d said he, \u201cto know how I found you out. I was\ncalled, a few days before I left Rome on this tour to the Eastern\nchurches, to see a dying man. He was one of the most miserable wrecks I\nhave ever witnessed, bearing the mark of the beast and the seal of sin. He\nwas a Greek and his name was Demetrius. He wished to be baptized into the\nChristian faith, and to confess his sins before he died. He told me that\nyou had been sentenced for life under a false name to hard labor on the\npublic works of Antioch. He begged, as a favor to a dying sinner, that I\nwould visit you if possible, and beg your pardon for the crimes he had\ncommitted against you.\u201d\n\nIt seemed that all my friends supposed I had been burned as one of the\nChristian candles, on the eventful night of the death of Magistus. My\nsisters and the disciples had mourned for me as one of the first martyrs\nof the new faith. Mary and Martha had arrived safely in Gaul, and had\nfounded a beautiful church with a convent and Christian schools at\nMarseilles. Their wealth had contributed immensely to the spread of\nChristianity. They were devoted and holy women, and Paul was eloquent in\npraise of their zeal and piety.\n\n\u201cAnd Mary Magdalen?\u201d said I, with a slight tremor at pronouncing the name\nof a woman who had of late taken ardent possession of my thoughts.\n\n\u201cThe humblest, sweetest, gentlest creature in the world! She always wears\nher black veil and devotes herself to the most menial offices. She is the\ngrandest type I have yet seen of the purifying and sanctifying influence\nof the religion of Christ.\u201d\n\nI felt a sweet glow of satisfaction at this announcement; and old man as I\nwas, something like a blush mounted to my cheeks.\n\nI learned from the great apostle the history of the Church from its\ninfancy to the present time. He was modest and even depreciating in\nnarrating his own share in the stupendous labors of the early disciples. I\nwas not slow in detecting, from what he said, the immense changes in\nthought and spirit which had taken place in the Christian commonwealth\nsince I had been withdrawn from its sphere.\n\nJesus Christ had left them a religion; Paul had made it a theology.\n\nPaul drew from me a narration of my experiences in the spiritual world. I\nwas very explicit and enthusiastic, for I deemed my revelations of the\nutmost importance to the Church and the world. He listened with interest,\nbut with evident incredulity. We exchanged ideas at some length on all the\nleading questions of theology. I became more and more anxious to impress\nhim with the truth of what I was saying.\n\n\u201cRemember,\u201d said I, \u201cthat the germs which you now plant in the Church,\nwill expand in the form and direction you give them for hundreds and may\nbe thousands of years. The slightest deviations now from the genuine\ntruth, will grow into gigantic errors.\n\n\u201cIf you teach the destructibility of this physical globe and the\nresurrection of our dead bodies from the dust, the Church will not have a\ntrue conception of the spiritual world, nor of the relation of that world\nto this.\n\n\u201cIf you teach the separate and distinct personality of the Father, Son and\nHoly Ghost, the proper or supreme divinity of Jesus Christ will not be\nunderstood, and the germ of polytheism will take root in your creed.\n\n\u201cIf you ignore the great judgment executed by Christ in the world of\nspirits, you will fail to comprehend the true object of his incarnation;\nand you will commit the sad mistake of supposing that the next and last\njudgment predicted, will take place in the world of nature.\n\n\u201cIf you speak, as you did just now, of the blood of Christ cleansing from\nsin, your hearers may fall into the error of supposing that the material\nblood shed upon the cross is what cleanses and saves from sin; whereas the\ntruth is, that the blood shed for the remission of sins, is the wine of\nthe New Testament\u2014the spiritual truth and spiritual life which flow forth\nfrom the Divine Man for the healing of the nations.\u201d\n\nSo I went on, reiterating all the grand points of doctrine which\ndistinguished the teachings of the angels I had conversed with, from the\nteachings of Paul. He became more and more restive under my impetuous\ntorrent of argument, and at last rose to depart. He excused himself on the\nplea of urgent business and short time. He said he would call again if\npossible, and would interest the Church in Antioch to labor for my\nrelease.\n\nHe left me with a pleasant smile. He passed into a gallery where he met\nthe governor of the prison. They were conversing as they walked slowly\nalong beneath a window at which I had stopped. I heard Paul say,\n\n\u201cHe is evidently insane.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish the world was full of such madmen,\u201d was the bluff answer of the\ngovernor.\n\nAnd that was the result of my interview with the great thinker, the\nleading spirit of the Christian world!\n\nInsane!\n\nThis visit of Paul was of immense service to me. It helped me to subdue\none of the strongest points of my selfhood. I still cherished the dream\nthat my spiritual knowledge had been entrusted to me for the special\nbenefit of the Christian Church. My only reason for wishing to get out of\nprison, was that I might communicate the Doctrine of Christ, as it appears\nto the angels, to my fellow-men.\n\nAfter mature reflection upon my conversation with Paul and its results, I\ncame to the conclusion that I had labored under a great mistake and had\ncherished an impossible hope. There are certain successive steps in the\ngrand evolution of the general human mind, which make one revelation of\ntruth necessary and proper at one time and another at another. The world\nand the Church were not ready for the knowledges which had been given to\nme. The transition from Jewish darkness to angelic light was too great,\ntoo sudden. A long period of twilight must intervene\u2014a period of literal\ninterpretations, of janglings and wranglings and schisms. In the fullness\nof time, perhaps, and after another judgment in the world of spirits,\nanother church may be instituted capable of receiving without adulteration\nthe sublime verities of the spiritual world.\n\nSo I abandoned my mission. God knew better than I did, and I was\nsatisfied.\n\nIt is strange what a new, sweet, beautiful life sprung up in my soul after\nI discovered that I had no mission in this world to fulfill, but to spread\ncement between stones, to plant flowers, to read the Psalms and to nurse\nmy sick fellow-prisoners. I was a new creature.\n\nI then entered upon what I have designated as the third state or era of my\nspiritual life. And this state was so marvelous, so exceptional to all the\nexperiences of my fellow-men, that I shall not dwell long upon it. It may\nbe a thousand or two thousand years before Providence repeats the\nphenomenon and produces another case like mine; and although in the\nfar-off perfection of the world they will be common enough, the story of\nit will for centuries fall upon the ears of men as an idle dream.\n\nThe first intimation I had of a further change of state, was received\nwhile I was reading the Scriptures. The good Christians of Antioch, it\nseems, failed in procuring my release; but they contrived to send me a\ncopy of the ancient Scriptures and the Gospel of Matthew. These were\npriceless jewels to an old man and a prisoner dead to all things except\nthe life of religion.\n\nOne day when reading in the Psalms and applying the thoughts to my own\nindividual experience, I became suddenly aware, by a kind of interior\nillumination, that the secret soul-life of the Lord Jesus Christ in his\ncombats with the powers of hell, was embodied and concealed in the sacred\npages. They contain more wonderful things than all the heights and depths\nof this external nature which we so much admire. They contain the\nmysteries of life and death.\n\nEvery day brought new revelations to my mind of the interior meaning of\nthe sacred writings. I found that the spiritual history of the incarnation\nof Christ was concealed in the narrative of the lives of Abraham, Isaac\nand Jacob. The first chapters of Genesis, under the figure of the creation\nof the world, revealed the successive steps by which the human soul is\nbuilt up from its original chaos into the image of God. The wanderings of\nthe Israelites from Egypt to Canaan, was the spiritual history of every\nman\u2019s regeneration. And the prophets\u2014oh, the prophets! with their dark\nsayings and grand imagery, concealed with a mystic veil the most beautiful\nand holy truths of the spiritual universe.\n\nThese things were not invented by my imagination. They were not discovered\nby my ingenuity. They pre-existed in the Scriptures, but are invisible to\nthe mind which rests in the mere sense of the letter. Their existence was\nrevealed to me by an interior light, the operation of which I did not\ncomprehend. I learned also that this wonderful spiritual sense of the\nDivine Word was clearly understood in heaven, and was the mental food of\nangels.\n\nThe Gospel of Matthew contains similar spiritual mysteries enfolded in the\nliteral story of our Lord. The Epistles of Paul, however,\u2014glowing,\neloquent, devout, impressive as they are\u2014contain no interior or spiritual\nsignification. I saw at once that they had no organic connection with the\nheavens; in other words, that they were not divinely inspired. They were\nsimply the earnest, saintly utterances of a great and good man to his\nbrethren.\n\n\u201cAnd yet,\u201d said I to myself, \u201cso potent has this zealous and eloquent\napostle been in organizing the Church, and so dense is the darkness of the\nnatural mind, that it would not surprise me, if in the far future the\nwords of Paul are reckoned of equal value with the history of Jesus, or\nwith the Law and the Prophets.\u201d\n\nThe peace and joy inspired by the spiritual perception of the Word, were\nineffable. My mind was in a state of continual felicity. I began also to\nhave the most exquisite and beautiful dreams. I was frequently awakened by\nstrains of the most heavenly music, and the darkness of my little cell was\nillumined by flashes of light, auroral and rainbow colors darting and\ntwinkling here and there in the most surprising manner. I felt that some\norganic change in my spiritual constitution was impending.\n\nOne Sabbath morning when I was reading in the Prophets, I became suddenly\naware of a presence in my room; and lifting my eyes I beheld my father\nstanding before me. He was as youthful and beautiful as ever. He was clad\nin shining garment, and said with a beaming smile:\n\n\u201cDo you understand what you read?\u201d\n\n\u201cBetter than I ever did before. But, O father! how is it that you have\ndescended into the natural world?\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you so soon forgotten your instructions in the world of spirits? I\nhave not descended into the world of nature. I see nothing material which\nsurrounds you. I am invisible to all eyes but yours. The change is in\nyourself. Your spiritual sight has been partially opened into the world of\nspirits where I am\u2014enough to see my form, but not my surroundings. You\nseem to come to me, while I seem to come to you. You see me with your\nspiritual eyes and your material surroundings with your natural eyes.\u201d\n\nIt is needless to explain the philosophy, as it is impossible to describe\nthe joy, of this happy reunion. Suffice it to say that my father came\nfrequently to see me, or I went to see him, however the case may be\ninterpreted. He assisted me in my studies of the Word, and we had many\nlong discourses on the mysteries of regeneration. Many of these things are\nincommunicable in human language, for when my spiritual sight was open, I\nspoke unconsciously the language of spirits and not the language of men;\nand I find it impossible to embody in material expressions what was\nperfectly intelligible in my spiritual state.\n\n\u201cYour case,\u201d said my father, \u201cso strange and exceptional at present, is a\nproof of the possibilities of the human spirit. As long as the powers of\nhell reign on earth, it will be fearfully dangerous for man to have\ncommunication with spirits; and the Lord in his mercy will, as far as may\nbe possible, keep each world a secret from the other. When He comes again\nwith an open Word and his angelic hosts in the far-off ages of terrestrial\ntime, such cases as yours may occur not unfrequently, and will announce\nthe approaching conjunction of heaven and earth.\u201d\n\nThis double life, this wheel within a wheel, is no part of my earthly\nautobiography. I must draw the veil over its mysteries. I am permitted,\nhowever, to tell my readers that my uncle Beltrezzor was revealed to my\neyes. He appeared as a young man of unspeakable beauty, clad in a purple\nrobe of dazzling splendor. He had become a member of a heavenly society\nsituated nearest to the Sun of the spiritual world. The atmosphere in\nwhich they live is a tissue of golden light, and the emblem of their\nspiritual love is a flame of sacred fire.\n\nWould you call that a convict\u2019s cell or the gate of paradise, which was\nbrightened by the halo of such presences?\n\nThe old man who thus lived in both worlds, at once escaping the common\nlimitations of time and space, was not withdrawn from the practical\ndischarge of his homely and difficult duties. Never in his life was he\nmore faithful, more zealous, more careful in the little every-day affairs\nwhich really make the happiness or the misery of life.\n\nOne day I was working on the walls of a new palace. The chief architect, a\nman of noble character and great influence, happened to approach very near\nme in one of his rounds of inspection. He said in a pleasant tone:\n\n\u201cYou spread your cement with very great care.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo it ought to be,\u201d said I, \u201cfor the cement is the brotherly love which\nbinds the hearts of the brethren together.\u201d\n\nHe lifted his hand and made a certain signal.\n\nI responded to it with another.\n\n\u201cI discover,\u201d he said, \u201cthat you are a member of that venerable and secret\norder instituted by king Solomon and Hiram Abiff, the widow\u2019s son.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes\u2014for more than forty years.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd has it been of service to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes! I have discovered in it a mine of spiritual treasures. Its\nsymbols and ceremonies embody a system of universal philosophy unknown\neven to its members. It is an epitome of the spiritual mysteries of the\nuniverse.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow comes it,\u201d said he, \u201cthat a disciple of the square and compass, who\nhas stood upon the tesselated pavement, is confined at hard labor as a\ncriminal?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh sir! I was quite a youth when I came here. I was innocent, but I had\nnone to defend me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it possible!\u201d said he, and walked toward the governor of the prison,\nwith whom he entered into conversation.\n\nThe next day I received a full discharge from my sentence, and a handsome\npresent of money from the chief architect.\n\nI was free!\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Ornament]\n\n\n                                  XXXII.\n\n\n                             _WHAT REMAINS?_\n\n\n                         [Illustration: Initial]\n\nI purchased some new clothes, and wandered all day about the streets of\nAntioch, astonished at my liberty. I dined at an eating-house where\nseveral languages were spoken by the different guests, and where every one\nstared at the long-bearded, long-haired old man, with the new robes and\nthe rough, brown hands. Toward dark I began to feel very lonely and\nmiserable, and at last returned to the prison like a dog to his kennel,\nand begged the favor of a night\u2019s lodging in my old cell.\n\nFree! Free like a plant whose roots are dead, and which, with no\nattachment to the earth, trembles at the mercy of the wind!\n\nI met next day with some of the Christians of Antioch. They seemed glad\nthat I had been released and spoke kindly to me, but remembered the visit\nof Paul and his belief that I was insane. If my opinions had been\northodox, what a cordial reception they would have given to the man whom\nChrist raised from the dead! As I had learned the divine philosophy of\nsilence, I said nothing to them on spiritual subjects.\n\nI was sixty-five years old and everything was new and strange. The pages\nof history during my long incarceration had been written in blood and\ntears. Vespasian occupied the throne of the Roman empire, assisted by his\nson Titus, who had besieged and taken Jerusalem. The holy temple was\nreduced to ashes and the city of David was a pile of ruins. The judgment\nin the world of spirits had descended upon the earth.\n\nI was shocked by the horrible details of the persecution which the\nChristian world had suffered from the detestable Nero; and of the\ncrucifixion of Peter, the murder of Paul and the martyrdom of many\nprominent disciples. What Lelius had begun at the private instigation of a\nsorcerer on the little stage of Antioch, too insignificant for historical\nnotice, had been repeated by the butcher of Rome on the theatre of the\nworld.\n\nDuring this terrible persecution my sisters had been driven from\nMarseilles. Flying for their lives, they reached the bleak and distant\nshores of Britain. There they planted the gospel banner and preached\nChrist to the pagan natives. There they were still living at the last\naccounts, lights in the darkness, warmth in the coldness around them.\n\nMary Magdalen had refused to fly from the Roman tyrants. Roused to a wild\npitch of religious enthusiasm by the atrocities perpetrated upon her\nfellow-Christians, she rushed defiantly into the presence of the heathen\nofficers and demanded the pleasure and the glory of dying for the name of\nChrist. Seeking martyrdom, she escaped it. Astounded at this eloquent and\nbrave woman with disheveled hair and face flashing a wild spiritual light,\nthe persecutors pronounced her mad, and refused to put her to death.\n\nShe retired to a mountain in Spain and occupied a cave overlooking the\nsea. There she lived in solitude and prayer, wearing out soul and body in\ncontrition for the sins of her early youth. Her sanctity and power of\nhealing were so great, that many pilgrims came from remote places to\nreceive her benediction or be healed by her touch.\n\nHelena, the beautiful syren from whom my soul had so narrowly escaped,\ndeserted Simon for Lelius, and Lelius for some Roman general, and this\nlast for a low favorite of Caligula. She was finally swallowed up in that\nhideous whirlpool of Roman life, which was kept in motion by the unbridled\npassions of male and female monsters, such as the world has rarely seen.\n\nSimon Magus had been driven from Antioch at the instigation of Helena, who\nhad unbounded control over the Roman legate. He retired into Samaria,\nwhere he acquired great power and fame by his magic and sorceries.\nThousands of people in that rude country admitted his claim to divine\npower. It was there that he came into contact with the disciples of\nChrist.\n\nSimon had discovered by his acute genius that a great change had taken\nplace in the relations between the spiritual and natural worlds since the\ndeath and ascension of Jesus. The old demons who had governed the world of\nspirits had been cast into hell. No spells of incantation could recall\nJa-bol-he-moth or any of the great spirits to his consultations. The\nmagical formulas had lost their power. The pagan oracles were becoming\nsilent. The influence formerly exercised by magicians over men and Nature\nwas evidently waning. Simon became sad, suspicious, fearful. The ground\nwas sinking under him.\n\nHe did not attribute these singular changes to the right cause. He\nbelieved that Jesus was only a magician more powerful than any or all\nothers\u2014one who, by some mysterious method had monopolized the subtle\nforces of spirit over matter. He therefore came to the disciples of Jesus,\nand was baptized into the Church. When he thought he had sufficiently\ningratiated himself with the apostles, he offered them a large sum of\nmoney for the magical secret by which they healed the sick and raised the\ndead.\n\nPeter answered him indignantly:\n\n\u201cThy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gift of\nGod may be purchased with money!\u201d\n\nAfter that exposure he went to Rome, where his magical powers seemed to\nrevive in the infernal atmosphere of that wicked city. His conduct became\nmore and more eccentric, insolent and presumptuous. He was clearly\nobsessed by devils. He manifested great aversion to the name of Christ,\nand professed to repeat all of his miracles with the greatest ease. He\nannounced in the height of his madness, that he would ascend to heaven\nwith a chariot and horses on a certain day. The amphitheatre was crowded\nto suffocation. It was said that he rose about forty feet in the air, when\nhis chariot and horses fell back into the arena and crushed him to death.\n\nThus perished a man whose character and actions will seem impossible to\nfuture generations, but who was one of the typical products of a corrupt\nand doomed civilization.\n\nI had never known the earthly heaven of home and wife and child. I had no\ncountry; no resting place; for little Bethany also was laid in ashes. My\nold friends and my old enemies were dead. The little church to which I\nbelonged in heart, was the feeblest of all religious powers; and even that\nwould have repudiated and expelled me on a full declaration of my faith.\nThe most advanced man in the world, I was the most desolate.\n\nMy face, my thoughts, my heart turned fondly to Britain. The last time I\nbeheld my sisters was on that eventful night in Bethany, when they gave\nthe supper to Jesus, and when Mary unwittingly anointed him for his\nburial. I must see them again! It was a long, dangerous, desolate journey\nfor a poor old man to make alone. But my sisters called to me at evening\nfrom the golden shadows of the west, and beckoned to me in the night\nthrough the twinkling of the northern stars.\n\nI sailed from Antioch to Rome. Not a Christian cared enough for the old\nman with heretical opinions, to pay a friendly visit or give a kindly\nfarewell to him whom Christ had raised from the dead. As the ship passed\nclose to one of the great piers, some old convicts who were working upon\nit recognized me and waved me a hearty good-bye. With tears in my eyes I\nkissed my hand to my only friends in the world.\n\nOn reaching Rome I was delighted to find the apostle John who had\nextricated Mary and Martha from the toils of Magistus, and who gave me a\nmost cordial reception. This unexpected warmth of friendship and sympathy\ninfused new life into me and almost made me happy again.\n\nTo my great surprise and pleasure, this disciple whom Jesus loved, and to\nwhose care he committed his mother, agreed with almost everything I had to\nsay. He broke the seal I had imposed upon my lips; for he had a sacred\nthirst for spiritual knowledge which I felt constrained to gratify. He\nreceived my doctrines of the resurrection of the spiritual instead of the\nnatural body, of judgments in the spiritual and not in the natural world,\nand the grand central truth of all truths\u2014the supreme divinity and\nabsolute fatherhood of Jesus Christ.\n\nJohn regretted deeply the dissensions which had already distressed the\nlittle Church, and foresaw the errors which would probably arise from\ncertain dubious phrases and unwarranted doctrines which had crept into its\ntheology. My whole story, he said, was so beautiful that it ought to be\ntrue; and if true, it certainly ought to be beautiful.\n\nThus John endorsed the very teachings for which Paul thought me insane!\n\nJust as I was starting for Britain, news was brought from that cold region\nwhich rendered my journey unnecessary.\n\nMy sisters were dead!\n\nMartha, when traversing one dark night a desolate moor to relieve a person\nin deep distress, was lost and perished in the snow. When the corpse was\ndiscovered and laid out in the little chapel of their convent, and Mary\napproached it, this new sorrow, added to the multiplied cares and labors\nof her life, was too much for the overburdened heart. The silver cord was\ngently broken, and she stretched her own body, like a funeral pall, upon\nthat of her sister.\n\nConjoined in their lives! united in their death!\n\nBeautiful spirits, clad always in virgin white! Brides of Christ!\nTwin-stars of heaven! Farewell!\u2014until this old body also shall drop into\nthe dust, and the strong bond of spiritual affinity shall draw us together\nagain, and bind us, to each other for ever!\n\nJohn, the beloved disciple, was only visiting Rome. He lived at Ephesus.\nHe now entreated me to accompany him home and spend the remnant of my days\nin the peaceful shade of his humble cottage. I thanked him warmly, but\ndeclined his invitation. There was one more person upon earth whom I felt\na strong desire to see. That person was Mary Magdalen, the last link which\nconnected me with the past. The hunger of an old man\u2019s heart for home and\nfriends, for sympathy and love, was reduced to this. It was all that was\nleft me.\n\nMy feelings toward Mary Magdalen had become clearly defined in the last\nten years of my captivity. The sad things of the past were buried and\nforgotten. I had outlived, outgrown the self-righteous conceit that I was\nbetter than she. Yea, I had discovered that she was far better than I. I\nwas thoroughly ashamed of the neglect, almost amounting to scorn, with\nwhich I had treated her in my youth. Her grand devotion to the cause of\nChrist, her fiery zeal, her contrition, her penances, her humility, her\nself-sacrifice, her solitude, haunted my imagination. The martyrdom of her\nlife was continually before me.\n\nI resolved to make a pilgrimage to her shrine; for I now regarded her as\nthe saint and myself as the repentant sinner. I would not mention love to\na heart so sorely stricken with the wounds of conscience and the sorrows\nof life. I would tell her nothing. I would leave all that to the revealing\nlight of the spiritual world, which was now so near us both.\n\nI would merely see her and weep with her over the old, sweet memories of\nJesus and Martha and Mary. I would live near her. I would work for her,\nwithout her knowledge. I would make her comfortable without her seeing\nwhence it came. I would visit her in sickness. I would close her eyes in\ndeath. All the rest should be buried deep, deep in the recesses of a heart\nwhich had not grown old.\n\nI reached Marseilles and surveyed with silent grief the ashes of the\nconvent my sisters had built. I employed a snug little boat and coasted\nalong, west and south-west, until we reached the shores of Spain, where\nthe spurs of the Pyrenees jut out into the Great Sea.\n\nLanding at a little village, I was directed to a considerable mountain\nnear by. I made the ascent before the heat of the day. The path made a\nsudden turn from a crag which stood a thousand feet above the water; and I\nfound myself at the dark mouth of a cave. Near the entrance, on the right,\nwas a wooden cross planted in a little bed of violets, wildly overgrown.\nThe sky was clear and beautiful. A perfect silence reigned around. My\nheart throbbed as I approached the last earthly home of the friend of my\nsisters.\n\nI looked into the cave and started back. A fearful sense of awe came over\nmy soul. My pilgrimage was in vain. I stood in the presence of the dead!\n\nIn that dim and damp and empty cavern, lay a human body, stretched upon a\ncouch of stone. It was clad in rusty black, with a black veil thrown over\nthe face. She had been long, long dead; for the feet which protruded from\nher robe were bones and not feet. A scourge of leather thongs had fallen\nfrom her hands. Engraven deeply in the moist rock of the wall, just above\nher prostrate figure, was the single word,\n\nMAGDALEN.\n\nI advanced no nearer. I knelt in prayer. I did not weep. He who has lived\nin both worlds, cannot be greatly stirred by the mutations of this. I\nturned away, thinking of our beautiful house in the heavens, and sighing\nto myself,\n\n\u201cIt is well! It is well!\u201d\n\nMy heart now turned to John. I sailed from Marseilles, bound for\nAlexandria, where I expected to take ship for Ephesus. We never reached\nAlexandria. After we passed the island of Sicily a series of terrible\nstorms commenced, and our little vessel was driven about like a feather on\nthe sea. Our hardships were great, and our labor in vain. After many days\nour vessel sprang a leak, and we were compelled to abandon her, or go to\nthe bottom with her. Our boat stood bravely for the shore, where some\nlofty mountains loomed up through the night air. We were capsized, and I\nlost consciousness. When I recovered my senses it was daylight. The little\nboat was beached quite near me. My companions were all drowned. I was\nutterly alone.\n\nI was wrecked at the foot of the western range of Mount Lebanon, on the\ncoast of Phenicia. I found a large and dry cave half-way up the first\ngreat spur that overlooks the sea. I have made this my home. I turned\nfisherman for a living\u2014for I had lost all with the ship\u2014and the little\nboat was serviceable for that. I exchanged my fish with the people a\nlittle way from the coast, for other articles more needed.\n\nThus I have lived for several years. Here I have written this manuscript.\nI have chosen the Greek language for its composition, because I am\nfamiliar with it, and because I believe the words of Eschylus and Homer\nwill be more durable than the marbles of Athens.\n\nOne more page and it will be finished. Its inspiration withdrawn from me,\nmy life will be more desolate than ever. I shall seal it up carefully, and\nconceal it in some safe place for the eyes and ears of a future generation\nwiser and better than this. I shall then turn to Death and say, \u201cI salute\nthee.\u201d\n\nI shall not wait long. After I left my prison in Antioch and mingled with\nthe turbulent tide of human life, my spiritual visions left me, my\nspiritual senses were closed. They are opening again. I have the old,\nbeautiful dreams. I hear the same heavenly music. I see the same auroral\nand rainbow flashes of light. These now are prophecies of death\u2014nay,\nrather of life, of heaven. The gates stand ajar.\n\nMy eyes, my hopes, my heart are steadily fixed on that Land of Beauty,\nwhere the Son of the Desert will be united to Martha; and John the Baptist\nto Mary; and Lazarus to Magdalen; and all\u2014all to Christ!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n                     _BY THE AUTHOR OF THIS VOLUME._\n\n                         OUR CHILDREN IN HEAVEN.\n\n                         A BOOK FOR THE BEREAVED.\n\n  It divests theology of its gloom:\n  It robs death of its terror:\n  It brings genuine light and comfort:\n  It is an antidote to spiritualism:\n  It vindicates the Divine Providence.\n\n                                CONTENTS.\n\nI. Is there no light? II. How are they raised? III. What bodies have they?\nIV. Where do they go? V. Who takes care of them? VI. What are they doing?\nVII. Can we communicate? VIII. Why did not the Lord prevent? IX. Why did\nthey die? X. What good can come of it?\n\n                                OPINIONS.\n\n\u201cEloquent and intelligible; clear and graceful.\u201d\u2014_Boston Evening\nTranscript._\n\n\u201cNew, refreshing, and elevated thoughts.\u201d\u2014_Round Table._\n\n\u201cIts sweet pathos and comforting sympathy at once warm and interest\nus.\u201d\u2014_Albany Journal._\n\n\u201cRational, beautiful, soothing, and uplifted too.\u201d\u2014_N. Y. Liberal\nChristian._\n\n\u201cA beautiful and touching book.\u201d\u2014_Philadelphia Presbyterian._\n\n\u201cA high-toned religious book, well written, and which will be of real\nservice to sorrow-vexed hearts.\u201d\u2014_St. Louis Democrat._\n\n\u201cA work of genius sanctified by sorrow.\u201d\u2014_New Orleans Crescent._\n\n\u201cDr. Holcombe is a fine writer: a master of style, with a marvelous\ncommand of choice phrases. He appears in this book to great advantage.\nStriking at times the deeper and finer chords of the human heart, he\ncauses them to vibrate in unison with all that is pure and holy in heaven\nand earth.\u201d\u2014_Southern Quarterly Review._\n\n\n                                THE SEXES:\n\n                           HERE AND HEREAFTER.\n\nThis book is philosophic, poetic, religious, without a word about medicine\nor physiology. It is for young and old lovers, for single and married, for\nhusbands and wives upon earth who would be husbands and wives hereafter.\n\n                                OPINIONS.\n\n\u201cIt breathes a pure and elevated spirit, and has many thoughts which will\ncommend themselves sympathetically to the followers of all Christian\nfaiths.\u201d\u2014_New York Independent._\n\n\u201cThe most marked literary production of the season.\u201d\u2014_San Francisco\nBulletin._\n\n\u201cA beautifully written volume.\u201d\u2014_Chicago Tribune._\n\n\u201cHere is thought on a noble theme, crystallized in beautiful, bright, and\nlasting gems. It adorns, exalts, and etherealizes double-sexed humanity,\nand endues marriage with supernal purity.\u201d\u2014_New Orleans Bulletin._\n\n\u201cA work of sustained elegance of style. Whatever may be said of its\nopinions, Dr. Holcombe\u2019s essay must be credited with unexceptionable\npurity and refinement. Its tone is religious and its theology orthodox,\naccepting fully the supremacy of scriptural authority.\u201d\u2014_Lippincott\u2019s\nMagazine._\n\n\u201cRarely, if ever, has the marriage state been lifted into so lofty and\nelevating, so spiritualized, yet so sweetly human, an ideal.\u201d\u2014_New Orleans\nPicayune._\n\n\u201cIt is treated morally, religiously, and philosophically, and the result\nis a good and valuable book among the piles of trash now being uttered and\nwritten on the subject of woman.\u201d\u2014_St. Louis Republican._\n\n\n\n\n\n                            TRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n\nThe following changes have been made to the text:\n\n      page 5, missing \u201cI.\u201d added\n      page 10, \u201cmelanancholy\u201d changed to \u201cmelancholy\u201d\n      page 71, period added after \u201cclosely\u201d\n      page 82, \u201cthorroughly\u201d changed to \u201cthoroughly\u201d\n      page 89, \u201cparalizing\u201d changed to \u201cparalyzing\u201d\n      page 99, period added after \u201cgallery\u201d\n      page 156, \u201cDemeritus\u201d changed to \u201cDemetrius\u201d\n      page 172, \u201cimpresssions\u201d changed to \u201cimpressions\u201d\n      page 176, \u201cbeaaty\u201d changed to \u201cbeauty\u201d\n      page 219, period added after \u201crace\u201d\n      page 222, \u201cmaddess\u201d changed to \u201cmadness\u201d\n      page 226, \u201cindvidual\u201d changed to \u201cindividual\u201d\n      page 236, missing \u201cXX.\u201d added\n      page 252, \u201cimpossibilties\u201d changed to \u201cimpossibilities\u201d\n      page 302, double \u201cwhen\u201d removed\n      page 315, exclamation mark added after \u201cterrible\u201d\n      page 316, \u201campitheatre\u201d changed to \u201camphitheatre\u201d\n      page 320, period added after \u201cAGAIN\u201d\n      page 339, \u201cEuphonbus\u201d changed to \u201cEuphorbus\u201d\n      page 367, \u201cembarrased\u201d changed to \u201cembarrassed\u201d\n\nAdditionally, quote marks have been normalized in many places.\n\nVariations in hyphenation (e.g. \u201cchildlike\u201d, \u201cchild-like\u201d; \u201crosebud\u201d,\n\u201crose-bud\u201d) and spelling (e.g. \u201c\u00c6schylus\u201d, \u201cEschylus\u201d; \u201csyren\u201d, \u201csiren\u201d;\n\u201csecrecy\u201d, \u201csecresy\u201d) have not been changed.\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"In Both Worlds","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":98282}