Victor Serenus

The sun long before had hid himself behind the Mount Ephraim Range in the west; and darkness crept up from the valleys, and was fast blotting out the tinting and burnishing that had softly rested upon battlements and towers, and the neighboring slopes of Olivet. One by one the city lamps, like fire-flies, twinkled in the growing gloom, and the starry heaven above solemnly marshalled its host, while the cheeks of the young pair were fanned by the balmy evening breeze.

Amabel had great respect for the courage and sincerity of Serenus; but far more than that, his image was deeply engraven upon her heart. But still, after this long time, she felt unready to make the confession, even to herself. As for Serenus, he long had lived among visions, and alternated between hopes and fears. There had steadily gleamed in his soul love for Amabel, and at times ecstasy beyond limit. Of her warm friendship he had no doubt, but of more he was not sure. Who shall interpret human hearts to each other?

But Serenus had long indulged the delightful dream which was constantly before him. The beauty and purity of Amabel made her seem almost like a divinity, worthy of any sacrifice and devotion, if not actual homage. But now, knowing her devoted loyalty to her church and race, what hope could remain for him? Deprived of his position by his own irrevocable choice, and soon to be misunderstood and counted as disloyal to the interests of the Chosen People, he had virtually dashed the cup of bliss from his own lips. Was he not mad in his devotion to a principle, which would not only cost place and reputation, but also wreck his long-nourished hopes regarding Amabel? Such were a few of the thoughts that rushed in a quick procession through his mind, as he was thrown for a brief period into the charmed presence. On her part there was an unwonted reserve. She seemed to feel the approach of a crisis in her life. The deepening shadows veiled her beautiful features, but the large lustrous eyes almost shone through the blackness in soulful radiation.

“The darkness which from without falls upon us is a fitting symbol of that which steals about my heart,” said Serenus.

“Why art thou so cast down, O Serenus?”

“I would fain answer thy question and open my soul to thee, fair one; but a great trial is laid upon me.”

“Peradventure I might help thee to bear it.”

The gloom hid the expression of intense interest which played upon her face as she had spoken. Serenus was also like a bow bent to the breaking-point.

“Sweet Amabel! long have I loved thee! From the time when at the Lyceum thy speaking eyes thrilled me, thy charming soul hath been most dear. Thou art the purest and fairest blossom of Israel in all the Holy City!”

Again the friendly shades of evening veiled the rich flush which mantled the cheeks of the Jewish maiden. She was stirred to the depths of her being, but waited to hear more. Serenus continued,—

“Thou wouldst inquire concerning the trial? Can anything pertaining to love be a trial? I silence my beating heart to tell thee! Dear Amabel, do not think me mad! I accept as true the message of the prophet of Nazareth, whom our own Chosen People counted as a blasphemer, and have crucified! He was innocent, just, and holy! His life was pure, and his love went out to all—even his persecutors. He lived the full divine pattern for both Jew and Gentile. His kingdom is an unseen kingdom, and cometh not with observation. He came not as an earthly conqueror, to throw off the Roman yoke by force, but to show men how to unloose the heavier yoke of spiritual bondage, carnality, and dead works. There is a light which is in every man, but only the Man Jesus hath perfected it in seen demonstration and expression. Through the power of the Father, to which he opened himself, he healed the sick, cleansed the leper, raised the fallen, and saved the sinful, and proclaimed that all these works are possible to all who are filled with the same spirit. He hath departed bodily; but the fulness of life which he showed forth is ever in the world, waiting for manifestation. The outer tumult of our lives may be so hushed that we can hear the voice of Truth in the stillness within. True religion is comprehended in oneness with the Father, and not in ceremonies and ordinances.”

Serenus poured out these thoughts as though they had been burning within him for utterance. After a moment’s pause he continued,—

“This is a new faith, howbeit it hath long had some growth within me. Yea, before the advent of the Nazarene I felt somewhat of its spirit moving in my heart. I have made all these things known to thy worthy father. My reputation and honor among our people is gone, and my work in the Assembly of the Wise ended! When these things that I have spoken unto thee reach the ears of the scribes and elders, I shall be a reproach; yea, persecution may be meted out to me.”

The soul of Amabel was wrung with agony as he continued,—

“Behold my trial! O fair daughter of Gamaliel, I am persuaded of thy loving and pure loyalty to thy father, thy religion, and thy people! I know my burden, and must bear it, even though it crush me! I go out from thy father’s house, and will see thee no more.”

“O Serenus, I know well thy noble spirit! Must these things be?”

Serenus sat with bowed head, and made no answer.

Amabel was a loving and dutiful daughter of a tender father. But with all his kindness, she well knew his firmness, and had no thought of putting it to the test, or raising any question. Her whole training and life had been devoted and consecrated to the religion of her people. While not bigoted or exclusive, she was thoroughly sincere in every service. She also fully divined both the firmness and sincerity of Serenus. She knew that his impassioned utterances about the new religion welled up from the depths of his soul, and saw how dearly they cost him. A great rock had suddenly been rolled across her pathway, and there was no way around it. Silently holding herself, and shrouded by the prevailing obscurity, the great hot tears fell thick and fast.

Fate’s shuttle weaves the web of life with pain;But in the struggle, see that thou art brave:When finished, loss may e’en be turned to gain,And love, perchance, enriched with all it gave.

The moments flew swiftly by. Amabel must be loyal, and she would be brave. She must hide her love, even because of it. If Serenus knew of it, would it not double the bitterness of his own cup? Can love suppress itself in behalf of its own object? Yea, it will suffer all things.

“O Serenus! think no more of me! Thou art a noble spirit, but pray let thy dreams of our future come to an end. There is a great gulf between us, which love, even if it possessed me, could not span. It will be for thy peace if our paths come no more together.”

There was another silence of several moments, during which the heart-throbs of each were almost audible, but no other word could be added. The very palace beneath them was no more immovable than the fate which destiny decreed, both by and for them.

Serenus found the great question echoing through the recesses of his heart, as to the real feeling of Amabel toward him; but there was no solution, and he even recognized that it were better so. What mattered it, so long as the gulf that yawned between them was impassable!

The silence was soon broken by the return of the Rabban, who resumed the conversation that had been interrupted. But he little dreamed what a tension was upon the two young souls.

Serenus soon took his leave, passed out of the palace, and started down the northerly descent of Mount Zion in the direction of his quiet home, which was some distance to the north-west, beyond Hezekiah’s Pool. But before he had come to the end of the sloping palace gardens, he saw some deserted seats among the scattered shrubbery upon one of the terraces, and attracted by the balminess of the evening, sat down. The opportunity for silent meditation and composure after the trying ordeal through which he had passed was very welcome. He would take his bearings anew, and sound the subtle recesses of his sorrows and experiences, and confirm and re-interpret his hopes and aspirations. At length he looked up into the starry canopy above, and entered into communion with the Universal, and his fevered pulse grew calm. He relaxed the soul-tension which had been upon him, and consciously opened his being to the eternal and all-prevailing Love and Goodness, and peace, like a river, flowed in. He was conscious of an universal reconciliation with all things, past, present, and future. The unbounded benediction which overwhelmed him submerged all that had been local, temporary, and disquieting. His soul expanded, and he was conscious of an at-one-ment with the whole order of Nature. It was all in, of, and for him. What, after all, was the sweetness of the purest and most beautiful personal affection but a rudimentary lesson, a detached gleam, from the wide radiance of the unbounded sunlight! His love for Amabel was like a little purling rill, finding its way to the ocean, not to be destroyed, but enfolded in an infinitely Greater. It must become multiplied, until Amabel is in all people, Jew and Gentile, Greek and barbarian. If her form be no more beheld, she shall be an universal interpreter. She is everywhere, even though unseen. Pierce through the rough outer coverings of all souls, and the divine germ of Love is there, only waiting for the light and moisture of consciousness so that it may swell and spring forth. Amabel is in the whispering of the breeze, the glow of the sunlight, the shimmer of the wave, the sighing of the forest, and the patter of the rain-drop. Divine Love at first can be interpreted only through its personified sample, which kindles the beginning of a flame in the human soul.

Serenus lingered long enough to make the world over for himself through the choice of an ideal standpoint. He had learned the secret of spiritual alchemy, so that the Universal was mirrored within him. His spirit enlarged to make room for a mighty influx of love, peace, and power which were borne in upon him. With soul calmed and filled with spiritual might he arose, and with light heart and elastic step started toward his destination. Passing through a long, narrow street just to the north of the tall cenotaph of Mariamne, and leaving the square of the Sheepmarket a little to the east, he continued towards home. It was midnight, and the streets and lanes were lonely and nearly deserted. But as he came near a small secluded open court by the side of a wine-shop, he heard a confusion of voices. He hurried his pace, and coming nearer discerned a prostrate form surrounded by four or five turbulent fellows, who were searching the garments of their victim for valuables. He sprang into their midst; and the onslaught was so sudden that the men, thinking that one of the Roman guard was at hand, scattered and ran in different directions. They already had secured all the booty they could find, and had no disposition to return.

Serenus gently moved the body to a more secure spot not far away, and removing his own tunic, folded it, and placed it under the head of the wounded man. Espying a legionary guard in the distance, who carried a torch, he called to him, and reported the robbery. They carefully examined the man, but found no wound. He was a Jew of small stature, delicate and deathly pale, and, except a hurried gasping for breath, entirely motionless. Everything indicated that he had fainted in the street, and that the young barbarians, finding him in that helpless condition, had taken occasion to rob him. His eyes were closed, but soon there was a little more evidence of animation. At length he began to mutter incoherently, as if dreaming. Serenus loosened his neck-cloth, chafed his limbs, and stroked back his dishevelled locks, and behold, the face had a familiar look. The muttering continued, and became more audible.

“O Cassia! Cassia! O Cassia! Oh! Oh!”

Serenus knew nothing of “Cassia;” but a quick vision of the past flashed before him, and he beheld a face to which the colorless features bore a striking resemblance.

“Saulus! Yea, it is Saulus! My old comrade of the Assembly and the Lyceum!”

It was known to Serenus that Saulus had lodged aforetime at the inn of the Sheepmarket; and as it was not far away, he and the legionary tenderly bore him thither. They knocked at the outer portal; but as it was far into the night, all were sleeping. But continuing, Almon at length made his appearance, and after explanation admitted them. Saulus had become more quiet, but was still unconscious. When he had been carefully placed upon a soft couch, the Roman departed.

“O my dear friend Saulus!” said Almon sorrowfully; “thou hast nearly perished! O Saulus! Saulus!”

He started to arouse his wife and Cassia; but Serenus advised that they be not disturbed, but that he himself be permitted to minister to the unconscious Saulus for a little time before taking his departure.

There was something so reassuring and commanding in the mien of Serenus that the innkeeper consented without a question.

“With the rising of the sun, behold thou shalt see him entirely whole!” exclaimed Serenus.

Almon was then beckoned to stillness; and he seated himself at a little distance, and looked on with astonishment. Serenus gently took the hands of Saulus in his own, and seating himself, rested his calm gaze upon the pale face before him.

The room was filled with a mysterious stillness, and there was a feeling as of a Presence. To Almon there seemed to be an added surrounding brightness, and he was filled with a holy awe which he could not understand. Then he thought he heard the stranger whisper a benediction. Soon Saulus wearily opened his eyes and looked about him, but failed to recognize his surroundings. There was another profound silence, and another benediction in soft but now audible tones.

Then the sick man gaped twice, turned upon his side, and sank into a sweet, natural slumber. Soon his deep, regular breathing indicated sound and refreshing sleep. Almon marvelled. Serenus arose to take his departure, only saying,—

“He is well.”

“What a wonderful work! Who art thou, kind stranger?”

He only replied, “A friend of Saulus,” and softly passing through the portal went out into the darkness.

CHAPTER XV

THE RESCUE OF REBECCA

Let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let them praise his name in the dance.

Let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp.

Psalm cxlix.

It was but two days to the great Jewish festival of Pentecost, and Jerusalem was already thronged with pilgrims. They came pouring in through all the great thoroughfares,—from Damascus to the northward, which entered near Golgotha; from the seaports to the west and northwest, through the defiles of the hill-country of Mount Ephraim, and from the south, approaching through the valley of Kedron; also along the lesser byways—a great host. They journeyed in families, parties, and festal bands, singing songs and praises, and bringing offerings. The air was stirred with a thrill of national pride and exaltation. Even the great overshadowing cloud of the Roman dominion could not dampen the ardor nor repress the spirit of the harvest festival commonly known as the Feast of Weeks.

The Hebrew had an unbounded faith in the future and permanent redemption of the Lord’s people, and his ideal of restoration and final triumph was ever before him. However galling the shackles, their loosening had been decreed, and was expected. Even the pilgrims of the more distant countries of the Dispersion were in no wise behind in their ardor as they gathered at the sacred city, “whither the tribes go up.” Each loyal heart swelled with pride as the great Temple came into view, where the God of Israel found his special dwelling-place in the Holy of Holies, from which he radiated his glory.

During the great Hebrew festivals every son of Israel who lived in the Holy City hospitably opened his house to the pilgrims; and as the climate was warm during the month Sivan, thousands slept upon roofs, and also encamped in and around the city. Many pitched tents within the limits of a “Sabbath day’s journey” outside the walls.

Among the great throng was a little party of four from the distant seaport of Tarsus. The aged priest Abdiel, with Benoni and his wife and Rebecca, came not only to attend the festival, but for a longer sojourn. Their arrival was a few days later than that of Saulus, he having been charged to make provision for their necessities. They were to abide at the Sheepmarket.

The little Tarsian group approached by the road from Cæsarea, and coming upon the elevation beyond the walls to the northwest, beheld the City of David spread out before them. The roof of the Temple, which crowned Moriah, overlaid with beaten gold, glittered in the warm Judean sunshine; and as the eyes of Abdiel rested upon it, he fell on his knees, and stretched out his hands toward heaven.

“The God of Israel be praised! Long aforetime the eyes of thy servant rested upon thy Holy Hill, and now, once more, behold the Glory of the Whole Earth is spread before me.”

He then arose, and looking up to heaven, repeated from the Psalms of David,—

“In Salem also is his tabernacle,And his dwelling-place in Zion.My covenant will I not break,Nor alter the thing that is gone out of my lips.Once have I sworn by my holiness;I will not lie unto David;His seed shall endure forever,And his throne as the sun before me.”

He ceased, and again fastened his gaze upon the Holy Hill. But anon a tremor shook his frame, his eyes became fixed, and he was as one in a deep trance. His countenance changed, his lips seemed moved by some mysterious power, and a message which was like a prophecy came out of his mouth. Even the voice was not that of Abdiel.

“Behold, little ones are born already whose eyes shall see Jerusalem as a heap of ruins. Sons of Israel will arise against each other, and strife and famine among thy people ravage thee within, while Roman cohorts invest thee from without. Battering rams will cause thy bulwarks to crumble; thy palaces shall be sacked, thy towers crushed, and thy Temple destroyed by fire. Pestilence, famine, and war shall bring thee to utter desolation, until thou lie in heaps. Thy glory shall vanish, thy name become a reproach and a hissing, and the Gentiles shall level thy ruins and dwell upon them.”

Again the frame of Abdiel was shaken, and he came to himself.

“Behold, O Benoni, I have seen an exceeding calamitous vision!”

“O Rabbi Abdiel! we have heard thee prophesy evil concerning the Holy City!”

“I wot not that I had spoken; but oh, the vision! Here where Jerusalem lieth stretched out before me, lo! I beheld a mighty battle. Famine, sword, and fire prevailed, and then anon I saw but an ash-heap!”

“Behold, O Rabbi Abdiel, peradventure a lying spirit hath possessed thee, and used thy lips!”

The venerable priest marvelled.

The day of the great and most joyous of the Jewish festivals opened bright but sultry. The early morning sun was pouring his warm beams over Mount Olivet, and gilding tower and roof, as Serenus wended his way toward a large upper chamber which was just below the westerly slope of the Holy Hill. This was where the disciples of the prophet of Nazareth were wont to gather, day by day, before the third hour. It was his first visit, and he was unknown to the followers of the Nazarene. From his youth in Alexandria, where he had been instructed by the great teacher Philo, he had been free in spirit from the traditions of the elders. He had learned somewhat of the Greek philosophy, and also dwelt for a season among the devoted Jewish sects of the Essenes and Therapeutæ. Being of a singularly pure and religious nature, he found the best in each, and attained to much wisdom and discernment, even before he came to Jerusalem. While a Jew by birth, and yet an observer of the more simple forms of the Hebrew worship, he had gradually found them burdensome, until his free declarations concerning the Spirit of Truth made it expedient even for the tolerant Gamaliel to part with him. He had long accounted the kingdom of God as a spiritual kingdom, having no connection with the government of the Jewish nation. He felt that its seat was within, and that its coming would be without observation.

Serenus had lived the Sermon on the Mount before its audible delivery. During the public life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, he had continued with Gamaliel, but had watched intently the spirit and teaching of the newly arisen prophet. While not aforetime casting in his lot with his immediate followers, he was in perfect accord with his work and mission. Day by day he had lived in the hope that the sonship which had expression in the great prophet might find knowledge and favor of the Rabbis and all the people. His own life and teaching with Gamaliel were to the end of the hastening of peace and righteousness, and the reign on earth of love and good will. Before the Nazarene had appeared, he felt within himself the eternal Christly spirit, or that divine mind and will which was so soon to have new and perfected incarnation. But when the scribes and elders persecuted and slew the Man in whom the Word was articulated, he must needs forego all conformity to them, avow the Truth, and peradventure suffer persecution himself.

Serenus found the large upper chamber well filled, and those who had gathered were speaking words of gladness and praise. Their faces shone with the spirit of love, and there was perfect accord and unity. Men and women prophesied, each one as moved by inspiration; and there were also times of silence, when all were possessed with a spiritual ecstasy which no tongue could interpret. All were stirred to open themselves to the Holy Spirit, and it filled and overflowed them. Love was so eloquent in every countenance that all, whatever their native language, heard and understood its voice in their own souls. Each one praised and magnified God for his heavenly vision, and all felt that these were the first fruits of a new spiritual dominion. Every one offered his unbounded service to his neighbor, and mighty works of ministry and healing attested the power of the spirit which was in them. Their joy knew no measure. Those who had been slow of speech waxed eloquent, the weak grew strong, the fearful became bold, and the unlearned spoke words of wisdom. Serenus marvelled and rejoiced as he heard their utterances.

“Glory to God for he is our strength!”

“Peace and good will to all on earth!”

“We give free course to the same spirit which filled Jesus of Nazareth!”

“The goodness of the Lord enlargeth our heart!”

“The chains of captives fall off and they go free!”

“Our eyes behold thy salvation!”

“The way of life is made plain before us!”

“Our countenances shine with the glory of thy presence!”

“The day of the Lord hath dawned!”

“Signs and wonders are multiplied!”

“Behold our sons and daughters shall prophesy!”

“A great light hath been kindled in our souls!”

“The Spirit of Truth is in our midst!”

“Our love aboundeth toward all men!”

Such were a few of the manifold testimonies.

The soul of Serenus was aflame with praise and gladness. Looking about him, he perceived that nearly all who had gathered were unlearned, and of no reputation; such as had contempt of the Pharisees and doctors of the Law. Whence this wonderful wisdom! Oh, joyful demonstration! Behold the tabernacle of God is now within the hearts of men!

O breath of God! breathed by his children now,Free course his spirit hath; their souls aspire.With life and love their hearts thou dost endow,Baptized e’en now with warmth of heavenly fire.

Serenus was inspired to mingle his wisdom with that of this spiritual love-feast, and he addressed the assembly:—

“Brethren, it is good to be here; for lo, the power of God filleth this place. But peradventure ye persuade yourselves that God hath become more willing than he was wont, and therefore hath repented him of the past, and now poureth out his Spirit more abundantly. Nay! His Spirit hath always been poured out, for it filleth all things; but now, with one accord, ye have opened yourselves to it. Behold God hath not changed, for he hath everlasting perfection, and abideth everywhere. He is not like unto men, giving or withholding his favor by times and seasons, but is everlasting fulness, now and through all time, to all who discover him and find his kingdom within. Behold the same mind which filled the Nazarene to the uttermost dwelleth unmanifested in all; but they wot not of its presence, for they look without, expecting it to come with observation. While Jesus was with you after the flesh, behold your eyes were holden by his bodily presence, but now ye see how the Spirit of the Messiah aboundeth unto all. God dwelleth not in oblations and circumcisions and ordinances, nay, even not in yonder Temple more than in all the earth, for his presence is everywhere. Behold, whether Jew or Gentile, Parthian, Mede, or Elamite, be ye renewed in the inner man, for there is where God speaketh. As ye put on the Christly mind, which was incarnated in Jesus, ye have salvation within you. His blood, being interpreted, betokens his inmost eternal quality; and this is Spirit, and this is life. Till now ye knew not that ye had Christ in you, waiting for your outworking. But now ye have opened your vision, and therefore abound in faith, and show forth God’s power as it becometh his children. I salute every one of you in love.”