Victor Serenus

“I am minded with thee, O Saulus! that the proclamation of Truth be fearlessly put forth, but it must be with forbearance and in love. Behold the still, small voice of the Spirit of Truth findeth a hearing in the affections of men whose ears are closed to argument and controversy. If the seed be cast gently into ground that is well prepared by the mellowing of love, and watered by the ministry of reconciliation, it will spring up, and in due season the blade will appear, and finally the full corn in the ear.”

“Thou speakest wisely, O Serenus! for only thy winning and unresistant spirit awakened a response in my own heart, that in due time overcame me, and turned my feet from the path of error and destruction. I am also minded that thy works in Tarsus are far more abundant than my vehement logic could have established had I been in thy place. Lo, from thy youth up thou hadst a gentleness of spirit, which I, even since my change of heart, greatly lack.”

Serenus turned lovingly toward Saulus, and taking him by the hand, replied,—

“I beseech thee, my brother, have in mind the abundant power which thou hast, and not the thing which perchance thou lackest. It is well that we have differing talents and gifts. Thou canst not perform my work, nor I thine, but there is a harvest ripening for each of us. In the earthly vineyard of God the shoulders of every laborer are justly fitted to the burden which is appointed for him to bear. But of a verity there are no burdens, for they are changed to privileges.”

“Thy words reconcile me to my chosen work, and even to my inner hindrances. I perceive that through spiritual exercise even our shortcomings minister to advancement in the higher life.”

Tarsus had faded from view, and save the rhythmic plash of the oars no sound was audible but the hum of quiet converse among the scattered groups upon the deck of the Felicia.

After listening with interest to the conversation between Serenus and Saulus, Marcius invited Rebecca’s attention to the grandeur of the mountains now nearing as they ascended the river, and soon the twain leisurely seated themselves in a retired nook near the bow of the boat.

The charm of the crystal Cydnus burnished by the rays of the sun, its fringed and swiftly passing banks, and the reposefulness of the broad, outlying landscape, combined to make the whole scene masterful.

“How beautiful the world is!” said Rebecca.

“Yea,” said Marcius. “Under the inspiration of the New Faith the mountains are temples, and the rocks and trees sacred altars which enshrine the divine beauty and radiance.”

“A beautiful metaphor! I feel that Nature is soulful and companionable. The cold, mechanical forms of institutions, and the hollow ceremonies in temples made with hands, harden the mind and fetter its freedom. As our souls are illumined, Nature becomes a Revelation—a spoken Word—transparent to the Divine Spirit which shines through it.”

Marcius was charmed by Rebecca’s poetic consecration, and added,—

“Yea; Serenus teacheth even a threefold Revelation: that which shineth through the veil of the outer world; that manifested through men—sons of God—of whom Jesus was the perfected measure; and that by the ever-present Spirit, which is the Companion and Teacher.”

“How clearly the eyes of Serenus are open to the light and truth of the world!”

“It is a marvel!” said Marcius with earnestness. “Blessed be the hour when first I beheld him! Behold how great good cometh out of evil! The sinking of the Salapiæ hath yielded a great blessing to Tarsus.”

“My life in the Holy City and since hath persuaded me that infinite forces work with us when we work through them,” said Rebecca with enthusiasm. “Nothing is trifling, and nothing unimportant.”

Marcius felt that the moment had arrived toward which he had so long looked forward as the most eventful of his life.

“O Rebecca!” said he in a low, tender tone, as his eyes glanced upon her fair face, “I am minded of another great blessing to me which hath grown out of evil!”

The living emphasis of the soft, earnest words seemed peculiar, and Rebecca looked up inquiringly, as if to divine their interpretation.

“Behold the day of the tumult, when thou wert hard pressed by the rabble! What a wicked offence, and yet from it hath come to me a revelation of thy beautiful soul.”

Rebecca was startled, for there was an intensity behind the words which swept her spirit into unwonted vibration.

“O Rebecca! I would more fully unveil my heart to thee! Blessed be the day when for the first time I beheld thy sweet face, and thrice blessed the time in which I have felt thy goodness and purity! I love thee! Thy father hath graciously yielded me permission to make my love known to thee. Oh, wilt thou not be the soul of my soul? The New Faith will consecrate our love, and make us one in the bonds of a union that shall be unending. Should there be no certain response in thy heart at this hour, I will not press thee for an answer now. But thou art the pure shrine at which my devotion will glow with an unending ardor!”

While the calm dignity of Rebecca did not forsake her the beautiful cheeks took on a ruddier shade, and her large, radiant eyes were downcast and bedewed.

Then, looking steadily into his manly face, she replied softly,—

“Hast thou thought carefully of this? Thou art the Roman Vice Legate of Tarsus, and I but an humble maid of the Hebrews!”

“Rebecca, I have pondered it day and night! Never in my earlier days did I know there could be such love! But I feel myself to be another man—a new man—or I would be unspeakably unworthy of thee. I am yet unworthy, but I offer thee the homage of a heart, purified I trust, by the higher life, and softened by the effulgence of thine own goodness.”

There was a long silence, made more intense by the rapid beating of two hearts.

A smile upon her lips, and the dropping of a tear which would not stay back, gave him hope.

Unspeakable repose filled their souls.

PART THIRD

AFTER THE FLIGHT OF TWENTY YEARS

CHAPTER XXXV

THE BAY OF PUTEOLI

“The massive gates of Circumstance,Are turned upon the smallest hinge,And thus some seeming petty chanceOft gives our life an after tinge.”

One beautiful spring morning, A.D. 61, an Alexandrian ship, flying the sign of Castor and Pollux, entered the Bay of Puteoli laden with corn for the granaries of Rome. The mirror-like surface of the water brilliantly reflected the rays of the early sun, and duplicated the palaces, gardens, and palm-trees which lined the banks. The dark-green, vine-clad slopes of Vesuvius, yet a slumbering giant, towered up from the eastward above the peaceful towns of Herculaneum and Pompeii, distinguished for their brilliant color, Greek-like gayety, and beautiful situation. It was one of the loveliest of earthly scenes.

The luxurious villas and magnificent palaces of Roman nobles which dotted the shores, and the romantic islets that lifted themselves out of the blue sea to the west and southwestward, with the flowering shrubs which pushed their color and fragrance to the water’s edge, all contributed features to form an unequalled earthly paradise. Near by were Baiæ, Pandataria, Cumæ, Pausilypus, and Capreæ, each richly endowed with thrilling classical events and romantic associations of great interest in the world’s history. The end of the voyage was at hand, and the passengers gathered upon deck to enjoy the complex panorama which many of them viewed for the first time. They represented many different races, tribes and tongues, and appeared in a picturesque variety of costumes.

Prominent among them was a Roman officer, having in charge a prisoner who was on his way to Rome for a trial in the imperial court.

The officer, Julius, who wore the insignia of a centurion, had an intelligent and kindly face, and showed much respect unto his prisoner, who was a man well along in years, and of marked individuality.

It was Saulus on his journey to the Eternal City upon an appeal for justice. He was accompanied by Luke and Aristarchus, though they were not prisoners. He stood upon the forward deck, engaged in converse with the centurion.

“If official duty will enable thee to use thy discretion, O Julius, I would make an earnest request for thy favor!”

“Make it known unto me, and if expedient I will be pleased to grant thy petition.”

“Behold yonder house where the gardens reach the water’s edge! It is but little more than a stadium from the landing, and is the home of Marcius, a Roman, and his wife, who is my sister. I fain would tarry there for a few days before setting out for Rome.”

“How knowest thou that it is the house of Marcius, never having sojourned here aforetime?”

“I am fully persuaded of it through letters which came to me giving a full description.”

“I have power to grant thy request, and it shall be as thou dost desire.”

When all had landed, Julius found upon inquiry that the house which had been pointed out was as had been represented, and with a soldier for a guard, Saulus and his friends were permitted to make the desired visit.

The home of Marcius occupied one of the most beautiful sites upon the shores of the heavenly bay. The water, transparent in its blueness, embraced by a lovely sky and an emerald shore, was so serene that it seemed to be reposing in a dream of bliss. The air was heavy with the odors of flowering plants and shrubs, and a subtle and fascinating spell was wont to steal over the senses of the observer. Nature was the Charmer.

The dark, tangled crags to the southwest seemed like lazy yet faithful sentinels who were watching lest the prodigal enchantment might escape, or that its voluptuousness might tempt the sea to swallow it up. What a fairy-land to stir the fancies of the heart, and light a smile of rapture upon the face of him whose soul is attuned to a beauty that is not only upon the surface, but within!

The three friends, who were entirely unlooked for, received a most cordial welcome from Marcius and Rebecca, and their home was a veritable haven of rest after a long and troublesome voyage. Many years had passed since Saulus and Rebecca last met, but the ardor of their early affection, if possible, seemed yet increased. Saulus for the first time saw his niece Helena, the daughter of Marcius and Rebecca, who was now in the bloom of her youthful beauty.

After a day of hospitable entertainment and intercourse in the unity and spirit of the New Faith, the little group, as the sun declined, was seated upon the front porch which overlooked the lovely expanse of the waters of Puteoli. The air was delicious, and a purple haze enveloped the surrounding slopes and heights, softening their outlines, and forming a mystical and idealistic setting for the splendid summer-houses which dotted the shore and highlands far and near. Upon the bay, which reflected upon its bosom the splendor of the closing day, here and there might be seen the sail of some belated fisherman or pleasure boat, almost becalmed, or perchance lazily rowing toward the port.

Saulus, after gazing meditatively upon the scene for a little time, broke the silence.

“In all my journeyings I have beheld no scene so glorious!”

“Yea,” said Marcius, “we count it as heavenly as any place on earth well can be. Nearly a score of years have taken their flight since we came here from the banks of the Cydnus, and yet whenever I return from my journeys in other climes it always gives me fresh delight.”

“Tell me somewhat of thy journeys, and of thy success in spreading the New Faith,” said Saulus.

“Behold I have little to make mention of in comparison with the great work which thou hast accomplished! Not being a public teacher and preacher, my efforts have had little observation, yet after my own manner I feel that my work hath not been in vain.”

“I am minded that thou hast devoted most of thy wealth to the spread of the new gospel,” said Saulus, “and assuredly in that direction thou hast done most effectual service. I would that thou briefly recount to my brethren, Luke and Aristarchus, somewhat of thy sacrifices and labors for their encouragement.”

“My sacrifices have been light compared with those which each of you has made, yet I have tried to be faithful. To this day no persecution hath been meted out to me, but I yet may feel the displeasure of Nero. No one can tell. Claudius was content with my simple deposition from office in Tarsus, and since that day I have lived undisturbed as a Roman private citizen.”

But Saulus desired to hear further.

“I have learned through letters from the hand of Rebecca that thou hast sent trusted disciples to the ends of the earth, and that thine own journeyings have reached to Britain, Spain, and Africa.”

“It hath been my privilege to send a few laborers into the vineyard, and furnish them with the means of support. In my visits to these lands I have seen somewhat of the fruits of their labors, and letters lately received give me hope of their growing success.”

“Behold there is a diversity of gifts and members in the new kingdom!” said Luke; “and I perceive that thou, O Marcius! hast done a great work that hath not been chronicled by the churches or known to the saints at Jerusalem. The world is a great field, and there are divers ways of scattering the good seed of the Word.”

“While thou art with us, O brother Saulus! I would that thou interpret more fully the life and doctrine of the great Prophet of Nazareth!” said Marcius. “The disciples with whom I have had converse appear to think differently, in some degree, concerning the best way of salvation and the true ideal of the New Faith.”

“Wherein lieth the difference?”

“Some seem to teach that the new life is likeness in mind and spirit to Jesus, or an incarnation of the inner Christly quality, while others hold that it is a purchase which was made by his sufferings and death. They say that his blood, though greater than other Jewish sacrifices, in the same manner cleanseth from transgression and bestoweth pardon.”

“I have observed that some such differences are beginning to appear among believers, but am fully persuaded that the Spirit will not be swallowed up by the letter. A knowledge of Jesus, the Christ, after the flesh, profiteth nothing. If I have known him after the flesh, I would know him no more.”

“What is the significance of the shedding of blood?”

“Blood signifieth the inner quality or life, and not the suffering and death. Behold the literal blood availeth naught! Jesus was only the outward manifestation of the Christ, because the Saviour of men is not flesh, but spirit.”

“What doth belief in the name of Christ signify?”

“It is that Christ, or the mind of Christ, liveth in us as it lived in Jesus, though not so fully manifested. Faith in Christ is not mere belief in the death and resurrection of the Prophet of Nazareth, but it is the substance of spiritual life in man. Jesus belonged to a particular time and place, while the Christ is the divine son in all men, even though not yet born into activity. It is God in the soul of man!”

“A saving truth! and how near, for it is an experience of the heart,” said Rebecca.

“Yea; the Christ is in every man, and not far away in time or distance. He is the name of divine oneness in the children of men, whether in the seed, the blade, or the full corn in the ear. Ordinances and sacraments are without, but Christ, the Truth, is within. A fleshly and sacrificial belief manifesteth itself in form and ceremony, and bringeth forth a harvest of dead works which killeth the spirit.”

“I feel the truth of what thou sayest, for it is easy of comprehension!” said Marcius with earnestness.

“Yea; no man need err therein. Christ is not a dead Christ, but the living, ever-present son or image waiting for birth and articulation in every human soul. Behold the whole creation groaneth together in bringing forth the sons of God!”

“Didst thou not in thine early teaching dwell much upon the seen Jesus and his sacrificial death?”

“Yea, thou judgest rightly; but now I see more plainly that that which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. I have learned that the worship of the Father pertaineth not to time, place, nor race, but must be in spirit and in truth. Behold all men, whether Jews or Gentiles, bond or free, are blindly feeling after God, but through ignorance they make many vain searches! But full contentment can never come to any soul until it knoweth the Father and his kingdom within.”

“Of the reputed sayings of the Nazarene, some appear to come from a son of man, and others from a son of God. Canst thou make that plain to us?”

“Man hath within him both the human and divine nature, and Jesus being fully manifested in the God-consciousness, and recognizing his oneness with the Father, at divers times spoke as God in the flesh, and also upon other occasions as a son of man. Behold God, though not flesh, dwelleth in all flesh, but man knoweth it not, and thinketh of him as far away.”

Early the next morning Serenus and Amabel also arrived at the house of Marcius. They came for a brief sojourn before taking ship for Alexandria, now their home, being on their return from a short visit to Rome.

CHAPTER XXXVI

NOCTURNAL INTERVIEW WITH A SEER

“I sent my soul through the invisible,Some lessons of the after life to spell,By and by it came and answered,I myself am heaven and hell.”

Joy reigned in the house of Marcius. The unlooked-for arrival of Serenus and Amabel brought about a general and happy reunion of friends who long had been widely separated.

The abode of Serenus was now in Alexandria. As the worthy successor of Philo, he was the eminent head of a school of liberal Christian philosophy, where teachers and missionaries were trained and educated. The academy was not devoted to mere philosophical speculation and theorizing, but to the promulgation of the New Faith in its pristine purity. Both by precept and example Serenus inculcated a practical spiritual life which transformed those who came within its moulding influence. The school became a living fountain, from which went out the waves of a Christly Christianity. Set free, even in greater measure than the Primitive Church, from Jewish dogmatism, the truth was purged from all traditional rubbish, and given out in all its intrinsic value and beauty. It was the simple New Faith, without any admixture of asceticism, touched and gilded by the light of the highest and best Greek philosophy and idealism. The influence upon the world at large of the Alexandrian liberal school of Christianity, not being recorded in canonized history, has been mostly unrecognized in ecclesiastical annals.

The day after the arrival of Serenus and Amabel passed swiftly in mutual converse and encouragement. Every one of the reunited circle had much to recount. What a wealth of experiences gained, obstacles overcome, and inspirations kindled!

Late in the evening Marcius felt a strange and unwonted spirit of restlessness. All the rest of the household had retired for the night, when some intangible but powerful influence almost impelled him to go into the open air for a season of meditation and communion with the spirit of Nature. Telling Rebecca of his intention, he went out upon the porch and took his favorite seat overlooking the beautiful bay. The harmony and sublimity of the scene were borne in upon his soul, and gave him a sense of profound serenity. The air was soft and balmy, and the full-orbed moon was lifting herself above the horizon in queenly majesty, lighting up the expanse of waters with a sheen of wavy silver.

The arrival of Saulus, and yet more that of Serenus and Amabel, brought before the mind of Marcius a flood of former associations and emotions interwoven with his life upon the banks of the Cydnus. His inner experiences of the earlier time passed before him in a procession like the unrolling of a scenic panorama. His Christianity was also free from a too-prevalent asceticism, and the charm of everything about him found a response and revelation in his own soul. As he pondered, while drinking in the beauty of the night, he measurably divested himself of the gross sense of the Physical, and wandered back amid bygone soul-experiences. He realized that to penetrate the unseen realm of Reality there must be earnest desire, unclouded by the opaque objects of sense, usually so all controlling.

He journeyed psychically backward, and analyzed his early life,—its selfishness, grossness, and superficiality. He thought of those who shared it. Where are they now? What occupies them? Have they yet discerned the hollowness of the mad pursuit of sensuous gratification?

What of Leander?

At that moment he was somewhat startled by the dignified approach of a man wrapped in a long mantle who came near and called him by name. In a reposeful and deliberate manner the stranger leaned against a pillar and waited for a response. His voice was musical, his face had a pleasant and impressive aspect, indicating refined character and a passionless depth of thought, heightened by a noble forehead and deep-set eyes.

“I am Marcius! Be seated, and explain thine errand!”

“I come as a messenger, rather than for myself,” replied the strange visitor in a cordial and friendly manner. “Thy musing upon the secrets of the soul and the mysteries of the Universe, but more especially thy delving among the living relics of the past, hath awakened a yearning in other souls,—or a soul,—and thou only hast the power to satisfy it!”

“Thou speakest in riddles! how did it come to thee, or to those for whom thou hast come, that my thought was occupied with the past? Behold the scene of my earlier experiences is far distant.”

“In mind and spirit there is no time nor distance! The echoes of thought go out, and are interpreted by those whose inner hearing is attuned. Not only the music of a fountain, but even the hoarse roar of a tempest, is heard within, and can be stilled only from the centre! There is a disquieted soul that earnestly craves thine aid. Even a word from thee would help to relieve its distresses.”

“Again thou speakest beyond my comprehension. What dost thou desire me to do?”

“Go with me to a place not very far distant where all mystery shall be made plain to thee!”

“Thou hast much assurance to ask me to go with thee, a stranger, to a place unknown! Common prudence might forbid.”

“Do I seem like one born to deceive? Only good can or will come from thy compliance.”

“Whom do we seek, if I go with thee?”

“My Superior! A wise and noble magician. One who hath profound and prophetic gifts of soul, and hath penetrated deeply into the mysteries of Knowledge, as found in the life of man.”

“I will go with thee!”

The moon had hidden herself behind dense masses of floating clouds so that the darkness had perceptibly increased, but Marcius was thoroughly persuaded of the sincerity of his guide, and did not hesitate.

They started. After traversing several narrow streets and turning many corners, they took a road which wound steadily upward. On, on, on!—would they never arrive at the journey’s end? The deep obscurity and many turns caused Marcius to lose his bearings, and he had little or no idea even of the general direction which they had taken. In the gradual ascent they crossed two streams upon whose classical banks in bygone ages had encamped the invading hosts of Etruscan, Sybarite, and Roman. The whole vicinity was rich with ancient lore. Still on, until, with a sharp turn to the right, they passed through a deep and narrow fissure which parted a hill of rock, and was shrouded by abundant foliage.

Emerging from the narrow walled passage, immediately before them, upon a level plateau, stood a venerable castle. The light which streamed through a few of the windows gave evidence of life within.

“Behold our journey’s end!” said the stranger.

They entered, and after mounting a broad, winding staircase, Marcius was ushered into the presence of a tall, dignified and venerable man, with long hair and flowing beard of snowy whiteness, who received him with becoming and polite cordiality. He was wrapped in a long white mantle, heavily embroidered in gold with mystical and occult designs. After the first greetings, he motioned Marcius to a convenient seat. The room was commodious, and possessed many remains of ancient splendor fairly well preserved. It contained large tables of costly marble elaborately carved, upon which were piles of parchment sheets and rolls, and also many astrological, chemical, and philosophical instruments and appliances.