Δεῖ δὲ αὺτὰς τας μηρέρας τὰ τέκνα τρέφειν.—Plutarch,De Lib. Educ.c. 5.Mothers must cherish their children.1. An ethical lecture.2. How students examine.3. Is Jesus a magician?4. Let Miriam testify.
Δεῖ δὲ αὺτὰς τας μηρέρας τὰ τέκνα τρέφειν.
—Plutarch,De Lib. Educ.c. 5.
Mothers must cherish their children.
Aleph was greatly interested in Cimon’s account of his adventures—most of all in the story of Shaphan. He determined to communicate it as soon as possible to the daughter of Alexander. But when would it be possible? On referring to his syllabus he found that Seti would lecture early the next morning. He would attend that lecture, and afterward would go to look after the sick woman Miriam. Perhaps he would find Rachel with her: if not he might learn when she was likely to come, and so manage to meet her.
Before the third hour the next morning, both Cimon and Aleph found themselves in the great lecture hall of the Serapeum. The students came in scatteringly; but at length the room was well filled, for Seti was popular with the young men. This was owing partly to the splendor of his lineage and office, which always weighs much with even the most democratic young men; partly to his repute as the heir of the mysterious wisdom of Old Egypt; and partly to the wonderful contrast between his years and the unabated vigor of both his bodily and intellectual faculties. And then this son of the Pharaohs and supreme Egyptian pontiff was fond of young men, reasonably tolerant of their ways, and knew how to unitefamiliarity with dignity in his intercourse with them. But he was specially in favor with the dominant aristocratic element. Some of the other teachers were new men. Nobody knew who their fathers were. The patrician young men from Rome and elsewhere declared that theyhadno fathers. What had the Fabii and Claudii and Scipios to do with such people?
Cimon and Aleph had taken seats well in the rear of the hall. So they had opportunity to notice the bearing of the young men as they came in. On the whole they were pleased with it. While a few had the air of triflers and coxcombs, and here and there one had the jaded look that suggested late hours and early dissipation, the most had in various degrees that regulated and purposeful air which teachers like to see. Among the more thoughtful and earnest looking Aleph noticed one of the two Romans whom he had met at the banker’s. He also noticed that the ages of the students seemed to average about the same as his own.
Almost every one who entered seemed to notice the new-comers; and soon there was considerable whispering and passing to and fro among the young men—which continued till Seti appeared. He stopped for a moment to exchange salutations with our friends, and then conducted them to a seat on the right of the bema. This was the customary seat for newly matriculated persons: and was greatly for the convenience of older collegians who thus not only became promptly aware of a new arrival, but could quietly study him up without the fatigue and incivility of turning about in their seats for the purpose. Of course it was at the expense of the lecture. But never mind—there are some things more importantthan lectures to young people; and one of them is the discipline of guessing out characters from faces and bearing.
From the seat they now had the friends could see well what they had not before noticed, viz., a small latticed gallery just opposite to them from which came occasionally some hints and glints of white draperies. Though none of the schools of the time distinctly contemplated the co-education of the sexes, there was nothing in public opinion, especially at Alexandria, to hinder the daughters of the professors and other approved ladies from hearing the lectures given to the young men; though it was thought best to place the beauties where they could not be seen. The professors generally favored this invisible presence as being conducive to good order and gentlemanly conduct among the students. The chivalrous instinct was not a medieval invention, nor even an invention of Christianity. The students at the Serapeum in the First Century knew that bright eyes were watching them and behaved accordingly.
The lecture of Seti was on the ethics of truthfulness. It was delivered with a grave and quiet dignity and authority well befitting his years and station, and yet with a subtle fire and force of thought and expression that suited wonderfully youthful tastes. He had no manuscript before him, nor did he seem to have one within him from which he was reading; but he seemed to find his thoughts in the faces and eyes of his hearers as his keen glances went to and fro among them. And the young men felt that they were being perused.
On the way home, the day before, Seti had informed Aleph of a custom among the students. He had matriculatedwith theFacultyof the University: the students would ask him to matriculate also with themselves. Each new-comer was not considered by them as invested with full membership till they had examined him for themselves and settled his grade among them as a collegian. It was possible to avoid the ordeal, if he saw fit; but a cheerful acceptance of it would conduce to popularity, and, if the trial should be well sustained, would give him a commanding influence. What would Aleph prefer? Seti had asked with a shade of anxiety in his face.
“By all means,” Aleph had said with a smile, “let not this custom be waived on my account. I rather fancy the double matriculation.”
So he was not surprised when at the conclusion of the lecture all the students retained their seats. He was, however, somewhat surprised to see that Seti retained his also. But he had no time to speculate on the matter: for a fine looking young man at once came forward and, courteously calling attention to the badge the stranger wore, inquired whether he wished such further membership and privileges among them as an examination by the students would confer.
Aleph rose and as courteously replied that such was his wish; and that he would not on any account have any of the usual formalities omitted.
“This being so,” continued the young man, “your full consent to our ancient custom having thus been graciously conceded, I call on our committee for testing candidates to come forward in proper order and discharge their duty. I will only premise for your information that the examination will ask two questions—first,What do you know?and second,What can you do?”
Whereupon two young men presented themselves, and one of them said, “I have the honor to put the first question—What do you know?”
Aleph smiled.
“Excuse my smiling,” said he, “at the exceeding largeness of your question, if I attempt to answer it, I must begin with confessing that my knowledge is very limited. Compared with what there is to be known, it is practically nothing; compared with what I wish to know it is very trifling indeed; perhaps further examination may show that it is also very trifling in comparison with what some of my fellow-students know,” and he bowed to the young men. A ripple of laughter went through the room.
“If you find my associate’s question,” said the other member of the committee, “a little too large to be manageable, perhaps you will tell us what you already know of the various branches of knowledge preliminary to those studied here. Doubtless you have informed yourself as to our curriculum; it not being considered in general a wise thing to leap into the dark.”
“This question,” returned Aleph, “is not indeed as broad as the other; but still it would be hard to give you a satisfactory answer (I mean one satisfactory to yourself, for this I could wish to do) unless you will tell me what branches of knowledgeyouconsider preparatory to this Institution. I fancy there might be a difference of opinion as to that matter—after setting aside a few elementary things. I can read and write and speak the Greek and Latin languages after a fashion: have such acquaintance with the literature in these tongues as, I should hope, would enable me to understand such references tothem as may occur in your lectures; have also had some little practice in moral and mathematical reasoning, sufficient, I should hope, for understanding a good argument when presented. Is there any further preparation needed? I have indeed heard (what I suppose to be true) that a little knowledge of religion—some just and clear ideas of Deity and duty and responsibility—is a good thing in the way of preparation for university life. In regard to that sort of knowledge, I can only say that if I do not possess it the fault does not lie with my parents or other teachers” (he slightly inclined his head toward Cimon). “They have done their duty. But perhaps my questioner does not lay any stress on this last sort of knowledge as a valuable preliminary to the speculations and associations of college life. It is even possible that he considers it a decided disadvantage. I know that such views are sometimes found among students.”
Aleph had drawn his bow at a venture. But the broad wave of laughter that now swept through the hall assured him that somebody had been hit. Was it not the questioner himself, whose color had sensibly deepened?
His mate took up the broken thread. “Certainly we did not all come here with as good a preparation as that: but perhaps you have done more than the preparatory, and already know considerably of the branches of study which engage us here. Such advanced students often come to us for various reasons.”
“I cannot say,” returned Aleph, “that I am altogether ignorant of the subjects discussed here. It has been my good fortune to have as teacher one who in his youth passed much time in both the Athenian and Alexandrianschools. And he has attempted, not as successfully perhaps as he could wish, to put his own knowledge into his pupil. What I know I owe to him and my parents: what I do not know I owe to myself. Certainly I do not come here because I know so much, but because I know so little. I hope to enlarge my knowledge, such as it is. In thirty years not a few changes must have taken place here—new teachers have come to the front, new ways of presenting and illustrating old truths are used, and it is barely possible that some things then considered branches of knowledge are now known to be branches of ignorance. So I hope to profit. Is this satisfactory? or would the committee like to have me explain a syllogism, epitomize Plato or Aristotle or Zeno, or expound the astronomy of Pythagoras?” just the glimmer of an amused expression stealing from his eye.
“Not either of these,” answered the committee. “Doubtless you are well prepared on what you voluntarily offer. Allow us to ask you for something which, as it is wholly unprecedented on such occasions as this, you can hardly have made special preparation for. We will ask you for an epitome of the lecture to which we have just listened. This is a compliment we owe to our venerable teacher who, I think, has never before honored us with his presence on a similar occasion.”
Turning to Seti, Aleph expressed a hope that he would excuse any injustice that might be done to his lecture under such a stress of circumstances, and then proceeded as follows:
“The lecture was on the ethics of truthfulness. It held up to abhorrence the general character of a liar and hypocrite; and said that men must tell what seemstruth to them whenever they profess to tell it. In war, hostile forces do not profess to tell the truth to each other, but the contrary: the very fact of war certifies to all that feints, stratagems, deceptions of all sorts will be used, and they are just as proper as war itself. Under certain circumstances one can properlywithholdtruth from his neighbor without notice given. No man is bound to tell all he knows to all sorts of persons without regard to how they will use the information. A glass house would not be a good one to live in—especially where stones and sinners are plenty. Silence is often both the privilege and duty of a man, as well as his wisdom. Deity himself keeps back much truth permanently from us, and chooses his own times and ways for revealing other truth. In the interest of justice we can properly make inquiries which, if their object were known, would not be answered: we can be silent on what criminals have no right to know. In government, in business, in social intercourse a measure of reticence is indispensable to the wisest living, and even to righteousness. Without notice given, one may never affirm what he thinks to be false: he may without notice sometimes keep back what he knows to be true. These positions were defended by considerations drawn from natural conscience, the general voice of mankind, the testimonies of illustrious teachers, and the grave difficulties that would arise were the world to accept and act upon other principles.”
Aleph folded his arms and looked inquiringly at the committee. The committee looked inquiringly at Seti.
“May we ask the venerable Seti whether this is a satisfactory account of his lecture?”
He bowed assent: and a general cheer went up from the benches.
“I perceive,” said the master of ceremonies, “that it is the mind of our community that I pronounce the first part of the examination well sustained. Accordingly I so pronounce.”
Another round of applause.
The young man continued, addressing Aleph, “As you have doubtless perceived, our object has been not so much to find out how much you know as your powers of knowing. I think we have gotten sufficient light on that point. May we get as much on the point that still remains to be inquired into, viz., your powers ofdoing. Our community lay considerable stress on physical accomplishments, and, we think, with good reason. An efficient mind does its best in an efficient body. We but follow the traditions of more classical times when we ask whether you can run and ride and row, can leap and lift and shoot and wrestle and fence—in short, protect your mother and sisters and such maiden as the gods may give you.”
“I have had some teaching in all these matters,” replied Aleph: “whether I have duly profited by the teaching it does not become me to say.”
“Are you willing to appear in our palæstra for a testing; and if so, do you choose to compete with the good or the better or the best in each department?”
“I am willing to appear: and defeat would be less mortifying to me at the hands of the best,” said Aleph with infinite composure.
“But one thing remains to be attended to here,” continued Publius Cornelius (for this was the name of theyoung Roman who acted as master of ceremonies). “According to our rules, when a young man has elected the best competitors—which indeed rarely happens—it is necessary that he stand face to face with them in our presence, that he may fully understand what he undertakes, and have an opportunity to recede from his choice if he thinks best: also that we may judge whether his choice is a reasonable one. Our best will now please present themselves with the candidate in front of the bema.”
A number of young men rose in different parts of the hall, and made their way to the open space before Seti. Aleph also advanced and stood near, facing them.
There was a profound silence for a few moments as the confronting parties surveyed each other, and were closely surveyed and compared by the rest (many standing on their seats for the purpose). Then burst out an almost deafening cheer.
The fact was that as long as Aleph stood by himself his extraordinary physical advantages had not fully displayed themselves. But when he came to stand with others everybody at once saw that in that group there was no face so noble and winning, no figure so majestic and exquisitely proportioned, no bearing so lofty and poised and full of suggestion of power and leadership as Aleph’s. So evident was all this to the “best” themselves that they could not prevent the consciousness of it from appearing in their uneasy faces and attitudes—especially after that spontaneous cheer which they well understood.
“Well?” inquired Cornelius, looking at Aleph.
Aleph again passed his eyes naturally and serenelythrough the group before him, resting them for an instant on one taller and brawnier than the rest, and then said quietly, “I adhere to my choice.”
A young man started up. “Our president has stated that we are to judge of the reasonableness of this choice. It seems to me a very unreasonable one. The advantages are too much on one side. Unless the gods interfere (and somehow they are not apt to do so in these days) there can be but one result to such an unequal competition. It is foreordained. I therefore propose, in the interest of our Best, that the candidate be at once passed to his matriculation with all the honors and with no conditions whatever. This course, it is true, is unprecedented; but then the circumstances are unprecedented. Those of us who know a good thing when we see it, are, I think, quite prepared for this action.”
Action,Actionwas exclaimed from all parts of the hall.
Cornelius stepped on a bench, and looking about the assembly called out, “Is there any objection on the part of any to the course which Quintius Fabius proposes?”
After waiting a moment for responses that did not come, the president proceeded, “Let every one who regards the examination as already sufficient, and would at once admit the candidate to full membership in our body, stretch forth his hand.”
Andsucha showing of hands! They flew out and up as if from a catapult. Some voted with two hands. Some, not content with a simple uplifting, made their hands shake and triumph in the air. Even the Best voted with the rest.
“Your mind is clear,” cried the president. “Byyour vote, and without dissent, this gentleman is now a member in full of this university. In your name” (as he advanced toward Aleph with outstretched hand) “I, Publius Cornelius, offer greetings and fellowship to”—and he hesitated.
“Aleph the Chaldean,” said Aleph, as he gracefully took the proffered hand.
Seti remained sitting for a while longer, keenly watching, as many of the young men gathered about Aleph and were introduced to him by Cornelius. Among these were the Best; who were at first somewhat backward and awkward, but whom Aleph so welcomed with frank and unpretending cordiality that they were soon quite at ease. Seti watched and admired. He saw that the young man had quite won those who might easily have become his enemies—in short had fairly conquered the position he had coveted for him.
Aleph lingered till the other students had left that he might inquire of Seti whether he had heard from Miriam that morning. He had not; but was not sure but that he might hear something by going to his rooms. Would not Aleph and his friend accompany him?
As they approached the apartments of the high-priest they saw before them in the distance what seemed the fluttering of female robes: and, as soon as Seti had opened his door, he found himself in the arms of his granddaughter.
“Mother-father” (this was her favorite style of address), she exclaimed, looking up fondly into his face, “are you not very tired after such a long session? But what a good lecture that was, and then....”
“Ah, child,” he hastily interrupted as he patted hercheek, “what a flatterer you are! Why not begin to practice on my lecture by telling me the truth? Tired! Antiquity is never tired. The tired ones are your moderns—such young men as you may see behind me.”
Cimon was surprised at the magnificent beauty that now disengaged herself from the arms of Seti and stood blushing before them. Aleph had indeed spoken of her as beautiful, but with no particularity and effusion: and so he was not prepared for the lovely vision. It seemed to him for a moment as if he had before him one of the Hellenic goddesses—a sort of compound of Aphrodite and Athene and Artemis. As to Aleph—such a look of glad recognition sprang to his face at the unexpected meeting that she could not but notice it. It gave her courage to advance and give her hand to Cimon, saying, “The daughter of Alexander gratefully remembers our friend of the Diapleuston”—to then turn to Aleph with a welcoming look and a new flush on her cheek as she said, “You see one has to make much of her grandfather, especially when she has but one. Perhaps you, too, have a mother-father and know how good it is to have him.”
“The lady has guessed rightly,” returned the young man. “The last thing I did when leaving my country was to bow my tearful face on the shoulder of a white-haired man whose form was not bent, nor eye dim, nor natural force abated, though he had long passed his century; and who laid his hand on my head and sent me away with the blessing of a grand sire. God willing, I shall see him again. The mother-fathers of Chaldea live long.”
“May the God of Chaldean Abraham grant it,” said the maiden devoutly.
“And grant also that I may carry back to him the news he has so long waited for—that the Desire of all nations has at last come!”
“Amen,” said Rachel; “and, according to my promise, I have something new to tell you touching that matter. So come with me, all of you—I meanyou, mother-father,” and she threw a graceful gesture at Seti as she led the way to seats near a window.
While the young people had been talking, Seti, with folded arms, had kept his eyes fastened on them as if by some irresistible attraction. Rousing himself at the call of Rachel, he said to Cimon with a smile, “In these days the Egyptian is in bondage to Israel,” and added as he closed the door and followed, “and is not very discontented—certainly not enough to make an exodus.”
When they were seated, Rachel said to Aleph, “I promised that if I obtained any new facts about Jesus I would communicate them to you. And this is what I have heard this morning.”
She then proceeded to say that on her way to the Serapeum she had seen Miriam, found that her husband had not appeared, found that she had improved so much that she was able to tell her sad story since her marriage. She had first gone with her husband to Tyre, where he professed to have property. After a few days he removed her to a small house near the city. This was the first of a succession of removals east and south. They never stopped long in a place—never lived in any but the poorest and obscurest part of a place. She never knew her husband do any work, or seek for any. She often wondered at first how he obtained such scanty and irregular supplies as they had. Once when she asked him aboutthe matter, he said that he was living on his property; and accompanied the information with such a storm of abuse that she never after dared to refer to the subject. She did not need to do so. He was abroad much at night; and she noticed that when abroad during the day he shunned thoroughfares, and sometimes disguised himself. Moreover, the men whom he brought to the house were of the lowest sort, and she could not well avoid overhearing enough of their talk to assure her that they agreed in thinking that property was robbery and might be taken wherever it could be found. After the first few weeks he cast off all semblance of regard for her. He would often leave her for weeks without any means of support; and had it not been for the compassion of the poor people about her she would have starved. As it was, her suffering from exposure, privation, and remorse reduced her almost to a skeleton. Ah, what days those were! She shuddered when she spoke of them. Such wretched living as they had was gotten by robbery, and sometimes by murder. He no longer pretended the contrary. She came to know that their frequent changes of place were made necessary by his crimes. As soon as he found himself an object of suspicion, he went to a new place and there repeated his thefts and burglaries until his safety required him to move on. In this way they slowly drifted from the Phenician coast to the Sea of Galilee.
She now thinks that she could not have lived through that awful pilgrimage had it not been for one thing. Wherever she went she met with poor people who had been cured of some incurable ail by the new prophet Jesus—cured by a touch or a word. Sometimes it was apalsy, sometimes consumption, sometimes leprosy, sometimes blindness or deafness or a lost limb, sometimes devils or death. And he asked nothing in return for such wonderful deliverances. Of course all mouths were full of his praises. They told of his gentle and compassionate ways; how he did not disdain publicans and sinners, saying that he came to seek and save the lost: how he took little children in his arms and caressed and blessed them; how patiently and wisely and wonderfully he taught the humblest as well as the highest—told of such things till her heart burned and ached to see him, to be near him, to pour out her oppressed soul into his pitiful ears.
At last her wish was accomplished. One day, while they were living at Chorasin, after some new tempest of abuse and wickedness from her husband, she slipped away into the fields to give vent to her grief and despair. There she saw in the distance a number of people on an eminence: and, on mounting a rock, she saw that others were moving toward the eminence from all directions. It flashed upon her that perhaps Jesus had come, and that now was her opportunity. She at once made for the hill—determined that if indeed Jesus was there she would get as near to him as possible. She felt as if some mighty loadstone was drawing upon her. Being unencumbered, she sped along quickly, passed many who were carrying sick people or were sick themselves, and was not long in assuring herself that it was indeed Jesus toward whom all the streams of infirmity and suffering were setting.
She quickened her steps into a desperate haste. She flew rather than ran—flew to the side of the hill wherethe people were fewest, pressed through them as if on an errand of life and death, saw one who was plainly the central figure, fell down before him panting, disheveled, eyes streaming, and tried to look up through her tears into his face. And she dimly saw there such gentleness, such pity, such insight, such power, that a great wave of rest swept in on her soul as she murmured,Lord, thou knowest. And he answered, in a voice strangely sweet, that somehow seemed to penetrate every fibre of her being.
“Yes, I know, thou daughter of many sorrows. Wait patiently for the hour of deliverance which will come in thy own country by the hands of those whom I will send. Meanwhile go in peace—thy sins be forgiven thee.”
She rose—all the harshness and bitterness of her soul gone, a calmness and strength and peace within that were indescribable. She did not withdraw from the scene; only fell back among the crowd. And there she saw with her own eyes the wonderful things done of which she had been hearing ever since she landed in Tyre. It seemed as if the whole country about had searched out its desperate cases and brought them together to test his power and pity. And she saw that no case was beyond him. Not an ail in all the throng but had instant relief as he touched or spoke. The number and variety of the miracles almost took her breath away. When the last sufferer had been helped she could no longer contain herself, but, as if filled and pressed irresistibly by a heavenly breath, burst forth with song, “O give thanks unto the Lord, for he has done marvellous things:” and all the people joined their voices to hers till the country side rang.
She went back to her husband, but not to her misery. The memory of that look, and that voice, and that promise was like a strong man under her cross. Her husband was no better; they still drifted from place to place, but always with a compulsion by circumstances toward the south and west. Her strength grew less as they approached the seacoast, and quite broke down at Joppa as she saw her husband, as he was hurrying her aboard a vessel for Alexandria in the night, rob and kill a man; yet even then the memory of that divine hour in Galilee was a mighty peace in her heart, and she felt that she was on her way to deliverance.
Said Seti to Rachel, after the few moments of profound silence that followed her narrative, “Did you ever notice in Miriam in former days any tendency to—exaggeration?”
“Never,” she replied. “On the contrary, Miriam was noted for great care not to overstate facts. You may depend upon it, grandfather, she is fully up to the standard of your lecture.”
Seti seemed not to notice this sally, and the accompanying shadow of a smile that flitted across the shining face, but said, “To say nothing of his marvellous deeds, the attention which Jesus pays to the lowly and uninfluential, rather than to the great and powerful, is very unlike what one would expect in a scheming impostor.”
“That he is not that,” said Aleph, “is still further confirmed by what my preceptor and friend here heard yesterday. I am sure you will agree with me if he will tell the substance of what Shaphan of the gate of Canopus related.”
All wished to hear. So Cimon proceeded to relatethe story of Shaphan—omitting, however, the circumstances bearing on Malus, and one or two other particulars.
When he had finished, Rachel exclaimed, “How wonderful all this is! Surely there is but one thing to be said, unless we are prepared to discredit all human testimony! I have heard my father speak of Shaphan as a very good man: I must see him and ask him many questions.”
“Would it not be better,” said Seti, “to first question some expert magician as to what he can do by his art? It is not incredible that there should be beings between the Supreme and ourselves who can do very wonderful things.”
“No, my dear grandfather; but if these superior beings are good they will not lend themselves to a great religious imposture; and if they are bad they would fight against themselves by endorsing such teaching and doing such works as those of Jesus. Would Satan cast out Satan?”
“Hardly. Still, have not magicians sometimes been good men? Perhaps our friends here can throw some light on that matter. Time has been when Chaldea was famous for its magicians”—and Seti looked toward Aleph.
“In my country, as in Egypt,” said Aleph, “the name magicians has always been used to cover all students of extensive knowledge, especially all students of the powers and processes of Nature. As to such persons as profess by certain arts to enlist the powers of mightier spirits in their service there is, at least at present, but one opinion among us, and that a very unfavorable one.It is that of the Hebrew Scriptures which denounce and forbid all magical arts under heavy penalties. However it may be with others, those who profess to accept these Scriptures and at the same time use magical arts, it seems to me, cannot be good men, or other than very bad. This is the case of Jesus. As I understand it, he professes to hold faithfully by Moses and the prophets. This being so, if he is a magician he is one of the worst of men—especially as he solemnly declares that he works his wonders not by magic, but by God.”
“And consequently,” added Cimon, “all evidence we have that he is one of the best of men is evidence that he is not a magician.”
“And what evidence of this sort have we?” asked Seti.
“At least we can say,” returned the Greek, “that no evidenceagainstJesus has yet reached us, while we have heard much for him. We have heard that his miracles are wholly beneficent and his teachings wholly righteous; and that the worst thing his enemies can say of him is that he does the very thing the prophets said the Christ would do, viz., stoop to the humblest while claiming with the highest. For myself, I would also lay considerable stress on the impression which the mere personal presence of Jesus makes on such a man as Shaphan. It is plain to me that this man would profoundly believe in the worth of Jesus, even if he had not seen a single miracle of his, nor heard from him a single word. Is this unreasonable? Two or three times in the course of my life, I have been similarly impressed—I have had merely to look into the eye and watch for a few moments the play of the features to get an immovable confidence in the character that lay behind them. Ordinary goodness,I confess, does not manifest itself in this royal way; nor does extraordinary, except under certain physical organizations; but thereareorganizations through which it is self-revealing—through which it looks forth as through pure crystal and shines by its own light, as does any mathematical axiom—through which it is able to put forth a heavenly atmosphere into which at least a sympathetic soul cannot enter without feeling its heavenly character.”
“So it seems to me,” said Seti. “I, too, have met a case or two of that sort.”
“The venerable Seti,” said Aleph; “has doubtless met with many so-called magicians in this land of the strange and mysterious. May I ask whether he has ever met one who hasclaimedto do his prodigies through the Supreme God, or to do them in such vast variety and magnificence as are conceded to Jesus?”
“Certainly not,” answered the Egyptian; “and I am quite sure that if we could get together all the professors of the magical art that are or have been, they could not, all together, make out such a list of wonders as is conceded to Jesus.”
“I would also ask of the venerable Seti,” continued Aleph, “if he will not express his views more fully as to the suggestion of the lady Rachel, viz., that it is incredible that bad spirits of vast intelligence would lend their powers to give currency and authority to a system of teaching whose whole stress they must see to be to defeat and destroy their influence.”
“Itisincredible. She only needs to show that the teaching of Jesus is plainly and thoroughly against the feelings and objects of evil spirits.”
“Why, my dear grandfather, all the accounts agree that Jesus teaches altogether in the line of our Scriptures, though with new fullness and illustrations—and no one knows better than you how holy the teachings of our Sacred Books are—exposing the devices of Satan, denouncing him and all his works, calling to watchfulness and prayer against him, rebuking and casting out his demons, assailing the very foundation of his kingdom in disloyalty to God, binding our consciences to a perpetual war on sin in both life and heart, threatening it with the terrors of an avenging heaven.”
Seti inclined his head gravely toward the maiden, whose earnestness was now glowing in her face and adding to it new charms, but was silent.
“The lady has expressed my thought,” said Cimon. “It used to be a part of the Roman law, and I presume is so still, that when a man is accused of doing what would neither suit his passions nor his interests, the accusation may be dismissed at once. It is incredible. Neither men nor devils act against all motive.”
“Now, great teacher,” cried Rachel, “it is time to sum up, as you do sometimes in your lectures; and (she brightly shook her finger at Seti) be careful to sum up on the right side.”
“Which of course meansyourside,” said the Egyptian, with a slight lifting of his eyebrows.... Well, how will this please you?
“Jesus, it is universally conceded, has done many things far beyond mere human power: he claims for them a divine origin: they are worthy of such an origin in the grandeur and beneficence of their character: such an origin agrees with certain ancient predictions apparentlyrelating to these times: unless they have such an origin, neither had the miracles of Moses and the other prophets; and indeed it seems impossible for God to furnish reliable credentials to any messenger; for, so far as we can see, his credentials must be miracles and could not well be greater miracles than Jesus has wrought: unless they have a divine origin they are demoniacal—which is wholly inconsistent with the apparent (say certain) character of Jesus and also with his teachings, which are such as no evil spirit could reasonably be supposed willing to promote.... Is this satisfactory?”—turning to Rachel.
“I think you could do better; but that will do—will do very well for the present,” she returned smiling; “especially as you have gratuitously supplied some missing links to the chain. Go on, O illustrious house of Seti and heir of all the Pharaohs, I have great hopes of you yet.”
“You see, gentlemen,” said Seti, “what comes of teaching our daughters to know and argue like other people. As soon as we furnish them with arms they turn them against us. And this they call gratitude!”
“But,” he added gravely, seeing Cimon rising to take leave, “if your affairs now call you away I wish to make an inquiry of you—if you will step this way.”
Cimon followed him to a distant part of the room.
After a little hesitation, Aleph said to Rachel, “Your grandfather has surprised me very much in this conversation. From the position he holds I should have thought such views on his part impossible.”
“There is a mystery about the matter, I confess,” replied the maiden; “but then this is not the only righteousmystery in Alexandria to-day”—and her eyes laughed into his in a very wonderful way.
“Let us hope,” said he with an answering gleam from eyes quite as wonderful though mysteriously different, “that they both will clear up satisfactorily in due time, as the mystery of Jesus seems to be doing. I am grateful to you for what I have heard to-day. But I would be glad to speak with Miriam myself. Do you think she will be strong enough to bear another talk to-day?”
“Perhaps so. I return to her as soon as my sedan comes; and if you will accompany me we will see what she is equal to. If you do not object, I wish to be present when you question her.”
“That would be delightful to me (and a new light sprang to his eyes as he said it)—especially since I have come to know that you have mind as well as beauty, and can inquire and reason with the best.”
He said this as if half soliloquizing, and with such an air of glad heartiness that she at once felt that the words had in them nothing of the emptiness of mere compliment.
She hastened to say timidly, “If we find that she is not able to talk with us to-day, we can arrange to see her to-morrow when she is fresh. Perhaps, too, she will then be able to bear removal to our house and—could I count on your aid in transferring her, for my brothers are away and my father has gone to Rome?”
“How gladly I agree to this the lady Rachel, I trust, already knows. At the same time, I must confess, I have some doubt as to what the morrow may bring to me; and so I would fain do as much as I can to-day.”
“You do not mean—I trust you do not meandanger?” and she looked anxiously at him.
Before he could answer a knock was heard at the door and a servant entered to say that the sedan of the lady was waiting at the gate. Rachel hastily prepared for the street. Going to Seti, who now stood by the door, she kissed him and—stood embarrassed.
“Well, what is it, my Gem of Alexandria?” said Seti. “What can we do for you? Do you want the old man to send you off with a formal blessing? The blessing of a heathen is not worth very much.”
“You are no heathen,” rejoined the maiden; “and I have already a great store of your blessings carefully laid up at home among my treasures. Give your blessing to-day to these friends of ours who, I fear, are in danger, and who have deserved well at our hands. You are wise and powerful—protect them, or you and I will have to part company. I hate ingratitude”—and she shook her finger at him.
“By the way,” she added, “do you think that so valuable a jewel as the Gem of Alexandria ought to pass along the street without an escort?”
“I was about to offer the lady my escort on her way as far as Miriam, whom I wished to question: but it seems that I am a person who himself needs protection,” said Aleph with a smile.
“Judging from what we have seen, Aleph the Chaldean is remarkably well qualified to protect himself, to say nothing of others,” said Seti with great composure.
“Yes, against a fair enemy,” protested the maiden; “but against others one needs all the help he can get from both earth and heaven. What I want of you,grandfather, is to see that earth does its part. If you do not, I promise you that you shall see how a woman can bestir herself.”
“Just as if Seti needed all this eloquence, child!” he said reproachfully.
“Mother-father, I am ashamed of myself. I know that you mean nobly. But then you men are so manly that you are not so quick as a woman at divining the presence of danger, though far better at meeting it when discovered. At least, so I am told; and I shall not deny it till necessary. So forgive me, and—do as I say.”
“I am not sure,” said the Egyptian thoughtfully, “but that both of you are right. If Rachel must return by way of Miriam an escort may be a protection to her, as Antis is capable of the worst; and to be seen in the streets with the daughter of Alexander may in the end be a protection to Aleph the Chaldean, for it will show whom it may concern that he is not without friends. So go, you two—but I will ask our friend Cimon to remain a while longer.”