Dumb-struck and stirless long the Sanhedrim—Instinctively abhorrent from the partOf that base councillor—at last there roseA new assessor in the midst to speak.A young man he, who, in the general thought,Wherever moving, round about him woreA golden halo of uncertain hopeAnd prophecy of bright futures. Aspect clearAnd pure; straight stature; foothold firm and free;The bloom of youth just ripening to the hueOf perfect manhood upon cheek and brow;Lip mobile, but not lax—capacityExpressed of exquisite emotion, willElastic and resilient, tempered trueTo bend, not break, and ultimately strong;Glances of lightning latent in the eye,But lightning liable to be quenched in tears;The pride of every Hebrew, such was Saul.A stir of expectation broke the hushOf that strange silence, ere his opening words:"That I, the youngest of this order, thusShould rise for speech—and that beloved gray headBefore me bowed, unready yet—might seemUnseemly. But to speak after he speaks,My own reveréd guide, the guide of all,Would be, should I then speak to differ, moreUnseemly still. And what I have to say,Being my thought, burns in me to be said,Approve, condemn, who will; God bids me speak."Gamaliel raised his head and looked at Saul.Saul felt the look, and hardened his will, but notHis heart, to meet it. Turning so, he saw,Not what he inly braced himself to bear,Warning, rebuke, anger to overawe,Reproach, appeal, dissuasion, pain confessedAt filial separation, grasp of willAt old authority elapsed—of these,Naught; only a pathos of perplexity,A broken, anguished, groping childlikeness,Desire of any help, and hope of none—Saul will hereafter understand it all;He simply marks it now compassionatelyIn wonder, pausing not, and thus, with lothAllusion to the last advice, proceeds:"But other speech my lips refuse, untilI purge my conscience by protesting here,For me, I spurn, scorn, hate, loathe utterlyThe devil and devilish lies. I have no qualmsAt blood, but I love truth, and qualms I ownAt falsehood, practised in whatever name;Damnable ever, then thrice damnable,Damning a holy cause it feigns to serve!"A flush of warm revival in the breastsOf some that listened answered to such words.But one there was, that vile adviser, feltA gripe of mortal hatred at his heart.He, by Gamaliel's eye not unobserved,Behind a black malignant scowl which, likeThat murk emission of the cuttle-fish,Flushed from his heart his face to overspreadAnd hide his thought, sat fostering the woundOf Saul's disdainful noble words—a woundTo rankle long in the obscene recessOf that bad bosom, and therein to breedAt last an issue foul of fell revenge;In purpose fell, though in fulfilment foiled.But Saul, magnanimously heedless, deignedNor glance at him nor thought of consequence.Elate with the elixir of his youth,And buoyed with confidence exultant nowBy the rebound of his beginning, buoyedBesides with sympathy, he passed along,Yet, master he, not mastered, of his mood,Curbed strongly his strong passion and delightOf power, and, calm with self-possessing will,Force in him to have sped a thunderboltStayed back from sudden waste, to be sent onIn fine diffusive throb—as farther thus:"Enough of that; I did but purifyMy soul with words. I feared some inward stainFrom only listening, if I listened only,And did not speak, when base was proffered me."Hear now what I propose. What I proposeIs not advice; advice I neither giveNor ask. I do not ask it, for my heartIs fixed; duress of conscience presses me,With flesh and blood forbidding to confer.I must do what I shall, in man's or devil'sDespite. I trust I speak not thus in pride.Not therefore that the census of your yeasOr nays may guide me, but that ye may weighWhat force my purpose now unfolded ownsTo sway your present counsels, hear and judge."Ye know, and all Jerusalem, that SaulHas counted nothing worthy to be prizedBeside the learning of the law of God.For this, a boy, from yon Cilician landsI came; for this, I have consumed my youth.What envied gains of knowledge I have made,Sitting a student at Gamaliel's feet,Befits me not to vaunt; these, small or large,Belong to God and to my nation, being mineOnly to use for Him and them. I seePlainly how I must use my trust from God.Wherefore are we assembled? Wherefore, saveBecause these sciolists pervert the law,Deceived perhaps, deceiving certainly?"Scarce waved a careless hand in sign at them—Toward the apostles, still in presence there,Saul deigned not to divert his scornful eyes:"Shame is it if I, knowing the law indeed,Am less than match for these untutored minds,Amid the flocking fools they lead astray,To controvert their hateful heresies.Herewith then I proclaim my ripe resolveTo undertake, against the preaching liars,On their own terms, a warfare for the truth.Let it be seen which cause, in open list,Is stronger, truth from heaven or lie from hell!"Brethren and fathers, as ye will, consult;The youngest has his purpose thus divulged."As when a palm diversely blown uponIn a strong tempest of opponent winds,Now this way, and now that, obedientTo each prevailing present urgency,Leans to all quarters of the firmamentBy turns, but quickly, let a lull succeed,Upright again, shows every leaf composed;So now the council, long enough betweenOpinion and opinion buffeted,While Saul was speaking took a little ease,No new advice proposed, to breathe again,Steady itself, and come to equipoise.Some thought that Saul had spoken proudly; some,That pride became his worth; some held that heWould make his vaunting good; some feared his planSavored of youth and rashness; others deemedPublic dispute mistaken precedentTeeming with various mischief—sure to breedInsufferable pretensions in the crowd,So taught to count themselves fit arbitersOn Scriptural or traditional points of moot,And, by close consequence, a serious breachEndanger in their own authority;Yet others felt, whatever fruit besideWas borne of Saul's proposed experiment,Two things at least were safe to reckon on—In its own dignity, the SanhedrimMust needs incur immedicable hurt,So plainly scandalous a spectacleExhibiting, a councillor enrolledOf their own number stooping to debateOn equal terms with ignorant fishermen;Then, on their side, those flattered fishermen,Far from indulging proper gratitudeFor being publicly confounded quiteAt such illustrious hands, would be insteadInflated out of measure, nigh to burst,With added pride at complaisance so newFrom their superiors, while the common herdWould give them greater heed accordingly.Such things diverse they thought, and silence kept,Saul's colleagues in the Sanhedrim; they allTogether felt that Saul in any wiseWould go Saul's way; they therefore silence kept.One man alone, by age and gravity,And reverence his in ample revenue,Was easy master of the Sanhedrim:On him the council rested and revolved,As on a fixéd centre and support.And now 'Gamaliel! let us hear at lastGamaliel's word' was suddenly the sole,The simultaneous, silent thought to all.The eyes of all concentred instantlyUpon Gamaliel found that saint esteemedAnd sage already stirring as to rise.Their readiness to hear, with his to speak,Timed so in perfect reciprocityAnd exquisite accord responsive, markedThat fleet meet moment for the orator,Which, conscious half, but half unconscious, he,Gamaliel, wielded by the Holy Ghost,Was now to seize and use for God so well.The hoary head, the mien of majesty,The associative power of ancient fame,His habit and tradition of command,Their instinct, grown inveterate, to obey,Always, wherever he arose to speakAmong his brethren, won Gamaliel heed.But now, a certain gentle winsomeness,Born of a certain wavering wistfulness,Qualified so a new solemnityOf manner, like a prophet's, felt in him,That awe came on his hearers as from God.Gamaliel first bade put the prisoners forth,In keeping, out of audience, and then said:"My brethren: Saul my brother—son no moreI name him, since he parts himself from meIn counsel—yet I love him not the less—"A tremor of sensation fluttered throughThe council, with these words, and at Saul's heartPausing, infixed, then healed, a subtle pangOf sweet remorse and gracious tenderness—"Yea, not the less for this love I my son,My brother, while I honor him the more.Yea, and not wholly does he part himselfFrom me; in deepest counsel we are one.Saul seeks to honor God obeying Him,The same seek I; are we not deeply one?And ever I have taught obedienceTo God as the prime thing and paramount;Disciple therefore still to me, and son,Is Saul, even in this act and articleOf his secession from his master's part;Saul and Gamaliel both, and all of us,I pray my God to save from self-deceit!I shudder while I pray, 'Deliver me,O Lord, deliver, from the secret sinOf false supposed obedience masking pride!'"Late, I was sure, as Saul is sure to-day.I thought, and doubted not, we ought to doEven what ye now are bent to bring to pass.My way was not Saul's way, but rather yours;To me it seemed plainly, as seems to you,Wiser to save the body by some loss,If loss were need, of limb. Unfalteringly,The knife would I myself with mine own handHave wielded to cut off these members, judgedUnsound and harmful to the general health,Forever from the congregation. Now,I feel less sure, Gamaliel feels less sure.I wish—brethren, I think I wish—to beObedient; though deceitful is the heartAbove all things and wicked desperately—What man can know it?—yet I think I willObedience. That was a pure word—the mouthHowever far from pure that uttered it—'To God rather than men must we obey.'Saul was true son of mine to turn from meTo God—if haply he to God indeedHave turned from me, and not from me to Saul,Not knowing! Might I also turn, even I,Gamaliel from Gamaliel, unto God!I dread to trust myself, lest I, myselfObeying, misdeem myself obeying God."Hearken, my children. These accuséd menUnlikely, most unlikely, choice of HeavenTo be His prophets, seemed, and seem, to me.I look at them and find no prophet mien;I listen and their Galilæan speechOffends me; and far more the scandal isTo think what message they propound to us.Their person and their message I reject—Reject, or if reject not, not receive.And yet, my brethren, yet, I counsel you,Beware! What ye intend, accomplished once,Were once for all accomplished, not to beUndone forever. Ye consult to slay,And find your purpose hard to come by. How,If, having slain, to your repentance, yeConsulted to bring back to life again?Were that not harder yet? Wherefore take heed,Ye men of Israel. Remember how,A generation gone, Theudas arose,Proud boaster and asserter of himself,Who drew his hundreds to his standard; heWas slain, and all his followers came to naught.Some space thereafter, out of GalileeJudas arose and mustered to his sideMany adherents; but he perished too,And all that clave to him were far dispersed."This therefore as to these is my advice:Refrain your hands from them; let them alone.Know, if their deed and counsel be of men,Its doom is certain, it will come to naught;But if it be of God, strive how ye may,Ye cannot overthrow it. Well take heed,Lest haply ye be found to fight againstGod. For myself, when close upon the heelsOf what was wrought mysterious in the escapeOf these our prisoners from that warded keepFast-barred, I heard their answer to our sharpInquest and blame, I felt as felt of oldThat prophet chanting his majestic strain,'The Lord is in His holy temple, letThe earth, let the whole earth, before Him keepSilence.' My soul kept silence and still keeps.And silence keep, all ye, before the Lord!For the Lord cometh, lo, He cometh swiftTo judge the earth! And who of us shall bideThe day of His approach? Not surely heThen found in arms against God and His Christ!"Gamaliel spoke and ceased; but, while he spoke,His speaking was like silence audible,Rather than sound of voice; and when he ceased,His silence was as eloquence prolonged.Awhile the council sat as in a trance,Unable or unwilling to bestirThemselves for speech or motion. But not allAre capable of awe. Some present there,Either through sad defect of nature proof,Or through long worldly habit seared and sealed,Against the access of heavenly influence,Bode unaware of anything divineDescended near them—carnal minds, immersedIn sense, from shocks of spirit insulate,Calm, discomposure none from things unseen,The faculty for such experience lost,Pitiably self-possessed! and God HimselfSo nigh to have possessed them!These a spaceWaited to let the power a little pass,Wrought by Gamaliel on the council; thenWith tentative preamble, one of themSaid that Gamaliel's words were words of weight,Weight well derived from character like his—Whereat the speaker paused, with crafty eyeCast round from countenance to countenance,To read how much he safely might detract,By open difference or by sly demur,From the just value and authorityOf mild Gamaliel's sentence. But small signSaw he to hearten him in hope of ebbTo the strong tide still standing at full floodThat set in favor of the prisoners.He feebly closed with wish expressed—and wishIt was, not hope—of hope no grounds he saw—That some means might be found to save the shockedAnd staggering dignity—a dignityAncient and sacred—of the SanhedrimFrom sheer shipwreck.Some slight responsive stirUnder such spur to pride emboldened oneTo trust they should at least sharply rebukeThe prisoners, and take bond of word from themNot further to disturb the city's peace.Another following said, that had been triedAlready once, with what result accruedWas plain to see. And now the Sanhedrim,Through various such suggestion commonplace,Relaxed somewhat from their late mood so tense,Grew readier to approve his voice who said:"The first offence we deemed condignly metWith reprimand from us, and interdict.Those gentle means the prisoners once have scorned,And to our face assure us they will scorn.Now let such contumacious insolenceToward just authority too meek, be met,If not with death deserved, at least with stripesSo heavy they shall wish it had been death."Such truculence renewed provoked a newReaction. This, that councillor less sternNoted—who, with Gamaliel and with Saul,Refrained, when all the others hissed applauseTo Mattathias—noted, and with thriftConverted into opportunity.A wary spirit Nicodemus was,With impulses toward good, but weak in will,And selfish as the timid are. His heartWas a divided empire in his breast,Half firm for God, but half to self seduced.His fellows trusted him accordingly;Hate him they could not, but they did not love.Some guessed him guilty of discipleshipTo Jesus, secretly indulged through fear.This their suspicion the suspect in turnSuspected, and the uneasy consciousnessMade him more curious than his wont to moveBy indirection toward his present aim.What he wished was, to serve the prisonersAnd not disserve himself—a double end,Rendering his counsels double; but as suchCould speak, now Nicodemus rising spoke.With sinuous slow approach winning his wayDevious whither he wished to go, like thoseCreatures that backward facing forward creepAnd seem retiring still while they advance,So Nicodemus wound him toward his goal,Well-chosen, as he said:"Let us be wise;Beyond our purpose were not well to go,Were foolish. Cruelty is not, I trust,Our spirit; God is just, but cruel not.Let us, God's sons, be just indeed, like God,But then, like God, also not cruel. StripesAre heavy, howsoever lightly laidOn freeborn men. The shame is punishment;A wounded spirit who can bear? Through fleshYou smite the smarting spirit, every blow.Remember too that lacerated fleshHas lips to plead with, makes its mute appealTo pity—eloquence incapableOf being answered, charging cruelty;Whereas the bleeding spirit, bleeding hid,No cruelty imputes, reports no pain,But, pith of self-respect clean gone from one,Glazes the eye, dejects the countenance,Changes the voice to hollow, takes the springOut of the step, and leaves the man a wretchTo suffer on an object of contemptMore than compassion—hopelessly bereftOf power to captivate the public ear,Which ever itches to be caught the preyOf orator full-blooded, iron lungs,Brass front, a lusty human animal.Such make of men, through shame of public stripes,Transformed to eunuchs—this, sure, were enough;Nay, for our purpose, more than more would be.And even so much as this, yea, lightest stripe,Drawing a sequel such as I have said—Brethren, for me, my soul revolts from it;I feel it cruel, fear it impious.Behooves we ponder well Gamaliel's word;And, if to slay were haply against GodTo be found fighting, why not, then, to scourge?""Such fine-spun sentiment," another now,Concurring, though sarcastically, said,"In pity of the victim of the scourgeFor suffering inwardly endured through shame,Supposes that your victim is endowedWith some small faculty for feeling shame,Which in the present case asks evidence."Still, I too take the clement part, and say,If only for Saul's sake, let these go freeOf any but the lightest punishment.Saul will desire for foemen hearts as strongAs may be, to call out that strength in himWhich we well know, for their discomfiture.Even thus, he may prefer some other foeThan men disparaged by the brand of blowsUpon their backs, some fairer, fresher fame,His gage of battle to take up, and beBy him immortalized through overthrowExperienced, such as never yet was worse."Divergent so in view or motive, theyAgreed at last to let the prisoners goWith stripes inflicted, and a charge severeImposed to speak in Jesus' name no more.These so released departed thence with joy,Rejoicing to have been accounted meetFor Jesus' sake to suffer shame. Nor ceasedThose faithful men to preach and teach as erst,Both in the temple and from house to house,Daily still sounding forth Jesus as Christ.But Saul withdrew deep pondering in his mindHow he might best his plan divulged fulfill.
Dumb-struck and stirless long the Sanhedrim—Instinctively abhorrent from the partOf that base councillor—at last there roseA new assessor in the midst to speak.
A young man he, who, in the general thought,Wherever moving, round about him woreA golden halo of uncertain hopeAnd prophecy of bright futures. Aspect clearAnd pure; straight stature; foothold firm and free;The bloom of youth just ripening to the hueOf perfect manhood upon cheek and brow;Lip mobile, but not lax—capacityExpressed of exquisite emotion, willElastic and resilient, tempered trueTo bend, not break, and ultimately strong;Glances of lightning latent in the eye,But lightning liable to be quenched in tears;The pride of every Hebrew, such was Saul.
A stir of expectation broke the hushOf that strange silence, ere his opening words:"That I, the youngest of this order, thusShould rise for speech—and that beloved gray headBefore me bowed, unready yet—might seemUnseemly. But to speak after he speaks,My own reveréd guide, the guide of all,Would be, should I then speak to differ, moreUnseemly still. And what I have to say,Being my thought, burns in me to be said,Approve, condemn, who will; God bids me speak."
Gamaliel raised his head and looked at Saul.Saul felt the look, and hardened his will, but notHis heart, to meet it. Turning so, he saw,Not what he inly braced himself to bear,Warning, rebuke, anger to overawe,Reproach, appeal, dissuasion, pain confessedAt filial separation, grasp of willAt old authority elapsed—of these,Naught; only a pathos of perplexity,A broken, anguished, groping childlikeness,Desire of any help, and hope of none—Saul will hereafter understand it all;He simply marks it now compassionatelyIn wonder, pausing not, and thus, with lothAllusion to the last advice, proceeds:"But other speech my lips refuse, untilI purge my conscience by protesting here,For me, I spurn, scorn, hate, loathe utterlyThe devil and devilish lies. I have no qualmsAt blood, but I love truth, and qualms I ownAt falsehood, practised in whatever name;Damnable ever, then thrice damnable,Damning a holy cause it feigns to serve!"
A flush of warm revival in the breastsOf some that listened answered to such words.But one there was, that vile adviser, feltA gripe of mortal hatred at his heart.He, by Gamaliel's eye not unobserved,Behind a black malignant scowl which, likeThat murk emission of the cuttle-fish,Flushed from his heart his face to overspreadAnd hide his thought, sat fostering the woundOf Saul's disdainful noble words—a woundTo rankle long in the obscene recessOf that bad bosom, and therein to breedAt last an issue foul of fell revenge;In purpose fell, though in fulfilment foiled.
But Saul, magnanimously heedless, deignedNor glance at him nor thought of consequence.Elate with the elixir of his youth,And buoyed with confidence exultant nowBy the rebound of his beginning, buoyedBesides with sympathy, he passed along,Yet, master he, not mastered, of his mood,Curbed strongly his strong passion and delightOf power, and, calm with self-possessing will,Force in him to have sped a thunderboltStayed back from sudden waste, to be sent onIn fine diffusive throb—as farther thus:"Enough of that; I did but purifyMy soul with words. I feared some inward stainFrom only listening, if I listened only,And did not speak, when base was proffered me.
"Hear now what I propose. What I proposeIs not advice; advice I neither giveNor ask. I do not ask it, for my heartIs fixed; duress of conscience presses me,With flesh and blood forbidding to confer.I must do what I shall, in man's or devil'sDespite. I trust I speak not thus in pride.Not therefore that the census of your yeasOr nays may guide me, but that ye may weighWhat force my purpose now unfolded ownsTo sway your present counsels, hear and judge.
"Ye know, and all Jerusalem, that SaulHas counted nothing worthy to be prizedBeside the learning of the law of God.For this, a boy, from yon Cilician landsI came; for this, I have consumed my youth.What envied gains of knowledge I have made,Sitting a student at Gamaliel's feet,Befits me not to vaunt; these, small or large,Belong to God and to my nation, being mineOnly to use for Him and them. I seePlainly how I must use my trust from God.Wherefore are we assembled? Wherefore, saveBecause these sciolists pervert the law,Deceived perhaps, deceiving certainly?"
Scarce waved a careless hand in sign at them—Toward the apostles, still in presence there,Saul deigned not to divert his scornful eyes:"Shame is it if I, knowing the law indeed,Am less than match for these untutored minds,Amid the flocking fools they lead astray,To controvert their hateful heresies.Herewith then I proclaim my ripe resolveTo undertake, against the preaching liars,On their own terms, a warfare for the truth.Let it be seen which cause, in open list,Is stronger, truth from heaven or lie from hell!
"Brethren and fathers, as ye will, consult;The youngest has his purpose thus divulged."
As when a palm diversely blown uponIn a strong tempest of opponent winds,Now this way, and now that, obedientTo each prevailing present urgency,Leans to all quarters of the firmamentBy turns, but quickly, let a lull succeed,Upright again, shows every leaf composed;So now the council, long enough betweenOpinion and opinion buffeted,While Saul was speaking took a little ease,No new advice proposed, to breathe again,Steady itself, and come to equipoise.
Some thought that Saul had spoken proudly; some,That pride became his worth; some held that heWould make his vaunting good; some feared his planSavored of youth and rashness; others deemedPublic dispute mistaken precedentTeeming with various mischief—sure to breedInsufferable pretensions in the crowd,So taught to count themselves fit arbitersOn Scriptural or traditional points of moot,And, by close consequence, a serious breachEndanger in their own authority;Yet others felt, whatever fruit besideWas borne of Saul's proposed experiment,Two things at least were safe to reckon on—In its own dignity, the SanhedrimMust needs incur immedicable hurt,So plainly scandalous a spectacleExhibiting, a councillor enrolledOf their own number stooping to debateOn equal terms with ignorant fishermen;Then, on their side, those flattered fishermen,Far from indulging proper gratitudeFor being publicly confounded quiteAt such illustrious hands, would be insteadInflated out of measure, nigh to burst,With added pride at complaisance so newFrom their superiors, while the common herdWould give them greater heed accordingly.
Such things diverse they thought, and silence kept,Saul's colleagues in the Sanhedrim; they allTogether felt that Saul in any wiseWould go Saul's way; they therefore silence kept.
One man alone, by age and gravity,And reverence his in ample revenue,Was easy master of the Sanhedrim:On him the council rested and revolved,As on a fixéd centre and support.And now 'Gamaliel! let us hear at lastGamaliel's word' was suddenly the sole,The simultaneous, silent thought to all.The eyes of all concentred instantlyUpon Gamaliel found that saint esteemedAnd sage already stirring as to rise.Their readiness to hear, with his to speak,Timed so in perfect reciprocityAnd exquisite accord responsive, markedThat fleet meet moment for the orator,Which, conscious half, but half unconscious, he,Gamaliel, wielded by the Holy Ghost,Was now to seize and use for God so well.
The hoary head, the mien of majesty,The associative power of ancient fame,His habit and tradition of command,Their instinct, grown inveterate, to obey,Always, wherever he arose to speakAmong his brethren, won Gamaliel heed.But now, a certain gentle winsomeness,Born of a certain wavering wistfulness,Qualified so a new solemnityOf manner, like a prophet's, felt in him,That awe came on his hearers as from God.Gamaliel first bade put the prisoners forth,In keeping, out of audience, and then said:"My brethren: Saul my brother—son no moreI name him, since he parts himself from meIn counsel—yet I love him not the less—"
A tremor of sensation fluttered throughThe council, with these words, and at Saul's heartPausing, infixed, then healed, a subtle pangOf sweet remorse and gracious tenderness—"Yea, not the less for this love I my son,My brother, while I honor him the more.Yea, and not wholly does he part himselfFrom me; in deepest counsel we are one.Saul seeks to honor God obeying Him,The same seek I; are we not deeply one?And ever I have taught obedienceTo God as the prime thing and paramount;Disciple therefore still to me, and son,Is Saul, even in this act and articleOf his secession from his master's part;Saul and Gamaliel both, and all of us,I pray my God to save from self-deceit!I shudder while I pray, 'Deliver me,O Lord, deliver, from the secret sinOf false supposed obedience masking pride!'
"Late, I was sure, as Saul is sure to-day.I thought, and doubted not, we ought to doEven what ye now are bent to bring to pass.My way was not Saul's way, but rather yours;To me it seemed plainly, as seems to you,Wiser to save the body by some loss,If loss were need, of limb. Unfalteringly,The knife would I myself with mine own handHave wielded to cut off these members, judgedUnsound and harmful to the general health,Forever from the congregation. Now,I feel less sure, Gamaliel feels less sure.I wish—brethren, I think I wish—to beObedient; though deceitful is the heartAbove all things and wicked desperately—What man can know it?—yet I think I willObedience. That was a pure word—the mouthHowever far from pure that uttered it—'To God rather than men must we obey.'Saul was true son of mine to turn from meTo God—if haply he to God indeedHave turned from me, and not from me to Saul,Not knowing! Might I also turn, even I,Gamaliel from Gamaliel, unto God!I dread to trust myself, lest I, myselfObeying, misdeem myself obeying God.
"Hearken, my children. These accuséd menUnlikely, most unlikely, choice of HeavenTo be His prophets, seemed, and seem, to me.I look at them and find no prophet mien;I listen and their Galilæan speechOffends me; and far more the scandal isTo think what message they propound to us.Their person and their message I reject—Reject, or if reject not, not receive.And yet, my brethren, yet, I counsel you,Beware! What ye intend, accomplished once,Were once for all accomplished, not to beUndone forever. Ye consult to slay,And find your purpose hard to come by. How,If, having slain, to your repentance, yeConsulted to bring back to life again?Were that not harder yet? Wherefore take heed,Ye men of Israel. Remember how,A generation gone, Theudas arose,Proud boaster and asserter of himself,Who drew his hundreds to his standard; heWas slain, and all his followers came to naught.Some space thereafter, out of GalileeJudas arose and mustered to his sideMany adherents; but he perished too,And all that clave to him were far dispersed.
"This therefore as to these is my advice:Refrain your hands from them; let them alone.Know, if their deed and counsel be of men,Its doom is certain, it will come to naught;But if it be of God, strive how ye may,Ye cannot overthrow it. Well take heed,Lest haply ye be found to fight againstGod. For myself, when close upon the heelsOf what was wrought mysterious in the escapeOf these our prisoners from that warded keepFast-barred, I heard their answer to our sharpInquest and blame, I felt as felt of oldThat prophet chanting his majestic strain,'The Lord is in His holy temple, letThe earth, let the whole earth, before Him keepSilence.' My soul kept silence and still keeps.And silence keep, all ye, before the Lord!For the Lord cometh, lo, He cometh swiftTo judge the earth! And who of us shall bideThe day of His approach? Not surely heThen found in arms against God and His Christ!"
Gamaliel spoke and ceased; but, while he spoke,His speaking was like silence audible,Rather than sound of voice; and when he ceased,His silence was as eloquence prolonged.
Awhile the council sat as in a trance,Unable or unwilling to bestirThemselves for speech or motion. But not allAre capable of awe. Some present there,Either through sad defect of nature proof,Or through long worldly habit seared and sealed,Against the access of heavenly influence,Bode unaware of anything divineDescended near them—carnal minds, immersedIn sense, from shocks of spirit insulate,Calm, discomposure none from things unseen,The faculty for such experience lost,Pitiably self-possessed! and God HimselfSo nigh to have possessed them!These a spaceWaited to let the power a little pass,Wrought by Gamaliel on the council; thenWith tentative preamble, one of themSaid that Gamaliel's words were words of weight,Weight well derived from character like his—Whereat the speaker paused, with crafty eyeCast round from countenance to countenance,To read how much he safely might detract,By open difference or by sly demur,From the just value and authorityOf mild Gamaliel's sentence. But small signSaw he to hearten him in hope of ebbTo the strong tide still standing at full floodThat set in favor of the prisoners.He feebly closed with wish expressed—and wishIt was, not hope—of hope no grounds he saw—That some means might be found to save the shockedAnd staggering dignity—a dignityAncient and sacred—of the SanhedrimFrom sheer shipwreck.Some slight responsive stirUnder such spur to pride emboldened oneTo trust they should at least sharply rebukeThe prisoners, and take bond of word from themNot further to disturb the city's peace.Another following said, that had been triedAlready once, with what result accruedWas plain to see. And now the Sanhedrim,Through various such suggestion commonplace,Relaxed somewhat from their late mood so tense,Grew readier to approve his voice who said:"The first offence we deemed condignly metWith reprimand from us, and interdict.Those gentle means the prisoners once have scorned,And to our face assure us they will scorn.Now let such contumacious insolenceToward just authority too meek, be met,If not with death deserved, at least with stripesSo heavy they shall wish it had been death."
Such truculence renewed provoked a newReaction. This, that councillor less sternNoted—who, with Gamaliel and with Saul,Refrained, when all the others hissed applauseTo Mattathias—noted, and with thriftConverted into opportunity.
A wary spirit Nicodemus was,With impulses toward good, but weak in will,And selfish as the timid are. His heartWas a divided empire in his breast,Half firm for God, but half to self seduced.His fellows trusted him accordingly;Hate him they could not, but they did not love.Some guessed him guilty of discipleshipTo Jesus, secretly indulged through fear.This their suspicion the suspect in turnSuspected, and the uneasy consciousnessMade him more curious than his wont to moveBy indirection toward his present aim.What he wished was, to serve the prisonersAnd not disserve himself—a double end,Rendering his counsels double; but as suchCould speak, now Nicodemus rising spoke.With sinuous slow approach winning his wayDevious whither he wished to go, like thoseCreatures that backward facing forward creepAnd seem retiring still while they advance,So Nicodemus wound him toward his goal,Well-chosen, as he said:"Let us be wise;Beyond our purpose were not well to go,Were foolish. Cruelty is not, I trust,Our spirit; God is just, but cruel not.Let us, God's sons, be just indeed, like God,But then, like God, also not cruel. StripesAre heavy, howsoever lightly laidOn freeborn men. The shame is punishment;A wounded spirit who can bear? Through fleshYou smite the smarting spirit, every blow.Remember too that lacerated fleshHas lips to plead with, makes its mute appealTo pity—eloquence incapableOf being answered, charging cruelty;Whereas the bleeding spirit, bleeding hid,No cruelty imputes, reports no pain,But, pith of self-respect clean gone from one,Glazes the eye, dejects the countenance,Changes the voice to hollow, takes the springOut of the step, and leaves the man a wretchTo suffer on an object of contemptMore than compassion—hopelessly bereftOf power to captivate the public ear,Which ever itches to be caught the preyOf orator full-blooded, iron lungs,Brass front, a lusty human animal.Such make of men, through shame of public stripes,Transformed to eunuchs—this, sure, were enough;Nay, for our purpose, more than more would be.And even so much as this, yea, lightest stripe,Drawing a sequel such as I have said—Brethren, for me, my soul revolts from it;I feel it cruel, fear it impious.Behooves we ponder well Gamaliel's word;And, if to slay were haply against GodTo be found fighting, why not, then, to scourge?"
"Such fine-spun sentiment," another now,Concurring, though sarcastically, said,"In pity of the victim of the scourgeFor suffering inwardly endured through shame,Supposes that your victim is endowedWith some small faculty for feeling shame,Which in the present case asks evidence.
"Still, I too take the clement part, and say,If only for Saul's sake, let these go freeOf any but the lightest punishment.Saul will desire for foemen hearts as strongAs may be, to call out that strength in himWhich we well know, for their discomfiture.Even thus, he may prefer some other foeThan men disparaged by the brand of blowsUpon their backs, some fairer, fresher fame,His gage of battle to take up, and beBy him immortalized through overthrowExperienced, such as never yet was worse."
Divergent so in view or motive, theyAgreed at last to let the prisoners goWith stripes inflicted, and a charge severeImposed to speak in Jesus' name no more.These so released departed thence with joy,Rejoicing to have been accounted meetFor Jesus' sake to suffer shame. Nor ceasedThose faithful men to preach and teach as erst,Both in the temple and from house to house,Daily still sounding forth Jesus as Christ.
But Saul withdrew deep pondering in his mindHow he might best his plan divulged fulfill.
Stephen, as a Christian preacher of brilliant genius and of growing fame, is selected by Saul to be his antagonist in the controversy resolved upon by him. To a vast concourse of people assembled in expectation of hearing Stephen preach, Saul takes the opportunity to address an impassioned and elaborate appeal, with argument, against Stephen's doctrine. His hearers are powerfully affected; among them, he not knowing it, Saul's own beloved sister Rachel.
Like a wise soldier on some task intentOf moment and of hazard, who, at heartSecure of prospering, yet no caution counts,No pains, unworthy, but with wary feetExplores his ground about him every rood,All elements of chance forecalculates,Draws to his part each doubtful circumstance;Never too much provided, point by pointEquips himself superfluously strong,That he prevailing may with might prevail,And overcome with bounteous victory;So Saul, firm in resolve and confident,And inly stung with conscience and with zealNot to postpone his weighty work proposed,Would not be hasty found, nor rash, to failOf any circumspection that his sureTriumph might make more sure, or wider stretchIts margin, certain to be wide.Some daysAfter the council, he, with forecast sageAnd prudence to prepare, refrained himselfFrom word or deed in public; while, at home,Not moody, but not genial as his use,His gracious use, was, self-absorbed, retiredIn deep and absent muse, he nigh might seemA stranger to his sister well-beloved,Wont to be sharer of his inmost mind.Inmost, save one reserve. He never yetHad shown to any, scarce himself had seen,The true deep master motive of his soul,That fountain darkling in the depths of selfWhence into light all streams of being flowed.Saul daily, nightly, waking, sleeping, dreamedOf a new nation, his belovéd own,Resurgent from the dust consummate fair,And, for chief corner-stone, with shoutings rearedTo station in the stately edifice—Whom but himself? Who worthier than Saul?This beckoning image bright of things to be—Audacious-lovelier far than might be shownTo any, yea, than he himself dared look,With his own eyes, steadfast and frank upon—Was interblent so closely in his mindWith what should be the fortune and effectOf his intended controversy nigh,That, though his settled purpose to disputeHe had for public reasons publiclyDeclared, he yet in private, of that strife,Still future, everywhere to speak abstained,Abiding even unto his sister dumb.Rachel from Tarsus to JerusalemHad borne her brother company, her heartOne heart with his to cheer him toward the goalOf his high purpose, which she knew, to beBeyond his equals master in the law.Alone they dwelt together, their abodeBetween Gamaliel's and the synagogueOf the Cilicians. Beautiful and brightHis home she made to him, with housewife waysNeat-handed, and with fair companionship.The sister, with that quick intelligenceThe woman's, first divined, for secret causeOf this her brother's travailing silentness,That he some pregnant enterprise revolved;Then, having, with the woman's wit, found meansTo advise herself what enterprise it was,She, with the woman's tact of sympathy,In watchful quiet reverent of his mood,Strove with him and strove for him, in her thought,Her wish, her hope, her prayer; nor failed sometimesA word to drop, unconsciously as seemed,By lucky chance, that might perhaps conveyA timely help of apt suggestion wiseTo Saul her brother for his purpose, heAll undisturbed to guess that aught was meant.At home, abroad, reserved, Saul not the lessAll places of men's frequence and resortStill visited, and mixed with crowds to catchThe whisper of the people; active not,But not supine, observing unobservedAs if alone amid the multitude.The brave apostles of the NazareneHe heard proclaim their master Lord and Christ,And marked their method in the Scriptures; notWith open mind obedient toward the truth,But ever only with shut heart and hard,Intent on knowing how to contradict.Meanwhile the novel doctrines spread, and foundNew converts day by day, and day by dayProclaimers new. Of these more eminentWas none than Stephen, flaming prophet he,Quenchless in spirit, full of faith and power.Him oft Saul heard, to listening throngs that hungUpon the herald's lips with eager ear,The claim of Jesus to MessiahshipAssert, and from the psalms and prophets prove.In guise a seraph rapt, with love aflameAnd all aflame with knowledge, like the bushThat burned with God in Horeb unconsumed,The fervent pure apostle Stephen stood,In ardors from celestial altars caughtKindling to incandescence—stood and forged,With ringing blow on blow, his argument,A vivid weapon edged and tempered so,And in those hands so wielded, that its strokeNo mortal might abide and bide upright.Stephen is such as Saul erelong will beRisen from the baptism of the Holy Ghost!Saul felt the breath of human power that blewRound Stephen like a morning wind, he feltThe light that lifted and transfigured himAnd glorified, that bright auroral rayOf genius which forever makes the browIt strikes on from its fountain far in GodShine like the sunrise-smitten mountain peak—Saul felt these things in Stephen by his tieWith Stephen in the fellowship of power;Kindred to kindred answered and rejoiced.But that in Stephen which was more and higherThan Stephen at his native most and highest,The inhabitation of the Holy Ghost—This, Saul had yet no sense to apprehend.The Spirit of God, only the Spirit of GodCan know; the natural man to Him is deafAnd blind. Saul, therefore, seeing did not see,And hearing heard not. But no less his heart,In seeing and in hearing Stephen speak,Leapt up with recognition of a peerIn power to be his meet antagonistAnd task him to his uttermost to foil.Beyond Saul's uttermost it was to be,That task! though this of Stephen not, but God.Still goaded day by day with such desireAs nobler spirits know, to feel the strainAnd wrestle of antagonistic thewsTempting his might and stirring up his mind,Saul felt, besides, the motion and fermentAnd great dilation of a patriot soul,Magnanimous, laboring for his country's cause.He thought the doctrines of the NazarenePernicious to the Jewish commonwealth,Not less than was his person base, his lifeUnseemly, and opprobrious his death.He saw, or deemed he saw, in what was taughtFrom Jesus, only deep disparagementDisloyally implied of everythingNearest and dearest to the Hebrew heart.The gospel was high treason in Saul's eyes;Suppose it but established in success,The temple then would be no more what erstIt was, the daily sacrifice would cease,The holy places would with heathen feetBe trodden and profaned, the middle wallOf old partition between Jew and GreekWould topple undermined, the ritual lawOf Moses would be obsolete and void,Common would be the oracles of God,To all divulged, peculiar once to Jews—Of Jewish name and nation what were left?Such thoughts, that seemed of liberal scope, were Saul's,Commingled, he not knowing, with some thoughts,Less noble, of his own aggrandizement.It came at length to pass that on a dayThe spacious temple-court is thronged with thoseCome from all quarters to Jerusalem,Or dwellers of the city, fain to hearOnce more the preacher suddenly so famed.Present is Saul, but not as heretoforeTo hearken only and observe; the hourHas struck when his own voice he must uplift,To make it heard abroad.He dreamed it not,But Rachel too was there, his sister. SheHad, from sure signs observed, aright surmisedThat the ripe time to speak was come to Saul.In her glad loyalty, she doubted notThat he, that day, would, out of a full mind,Pressed overfull with affluence from the heart,Pour forth a stream of generous eloquence—Stream, nay, slope torrent, steep sheer cataract,Of reason and of passion intermixed—For such she proudly felt her brother's power—Which down should rush upon his adversariesAnd carry them away as with a flood,Astonished, overwhelmed, and whirled afar;Rescued at least the ruins of the state!So glorying in her high vicarious hopeFor Saul her brother, Rachel came that mornBetimes and chose her out a safe recessFor easy audience, nigh, and yet retired,Between the pillars of a stately porch,Where she might see and not by him be seen.Thence Rachel watched all eagerly; when nowThe multitude, expecting Stephen, sawA different man stand forth with beckoning handAs if to speak. The act and attitudeCommanded audience, for a king of menStood there, and a great silence fell on all.Some knew the face of the young Pharisee,These whispered round his name; Saul's name and fameTo all were known, and, ere the speaker spoke,Won him a deepening heed.Rachel the hushFelt with a secret sympathetic awe,And for one breath her beating heart stood still;It leapt again to hear her brother's voicePealing out bold in joyous sense of power.That noble voice, redounding like a surgePushed by the tide, on swept before the wind,And all the ocean shouldering at its back,Which seeks out every inlet of the shoreTo brim it flush and level from the brine—Such Saul's voice swelled, as from a plenteous sea,And, wave on wave of pure elastic tone,Rejoicing ran through every gallery,And every echoing endless colonnade,And every far-retreating least recessOf building round about that temple-court,And filled the temple-court with silver sound—As thus, with haughty summons, he began:"Ye men of Israel, sojourners from farOr dwellers in Jerusalem, give heed.The lines are fallen to us in evil times:Opinions run abroad perverse and strange,Divergent from the faith our fathers held.A day is come, brethren, and fallen on us—On us, this living generation, bigWith promise, or with threat, of mighty doom.Which will ye have it? Threat, or promise, which?Yours is the choosing—choose ye may, ye must."Abolish Moses, if ye will; destroyThe great traditions of your fathers; sayAbraham was naught, naught Isaac, Jacob, allThe patriarchs, heroes, martyrs, prophets, kings;That Seed of Abraham naught, our nation's Hope,Foretold to be an universal King;Make one wide blank and void, an emptied page,Of all the awful glories of our past—Deliverance out of Egypt, miracleOn miracle wrought dreadfully for usAgainst our foes, path cloven through the sea,Jehovah in the pillar of cloud and fire,And host of Pharaoh mightily overthrown;The law proclaimed on Sinai amid soundAnd light insufferable and angels nighAttending; manna in the wilderness;The rock that lived and moved and followed them,Our fathers, flowing water in the waste—Obliterate at a stroke whatever setsThe seal of God upon you as His own,And marks you different from the heathen round—Shekinah fixed between the cherubim,The vacant Holy of Holies filled with God,The morning and the evening sacrifice,Priest, altar, incense, choral hymn and psalm,Confused melodious noise of instrumentsTogether sounding the high praise of God;All this, with more I will not stay to tell,This temple itself with its magnificence,The hope of Him foreshown, the MessengerOf that eternal covenant whereinYour souls delight themselves, Who suddenlyOne day shall come unto His temple—blot,Expunge, erase, efface, consent to beNo more a people, mix and merge yourselvesWith aliens, blood that in your veins flows pureAll the long way one stream continuous downFrom Abraham called the friend of God—such bloodAdulterate in the idolatrous, corruptPool of the Gentiles—men of Israel!Or are ye men? and are ye Israel?I stand in doubt of you—I stand in doubtOf kinsmen mine supposed that bide to hearSuch things as seems that ye with pleasure hear!"Say, know ye not they mean to take awayYour place and name? Are ye so blind? Or areYe only base poor creatures caring notThough knowing well? Oft have ye seen the fatOf lambs upon the flaming altar fumeOne instant and in fume consume away;So swiftly and so utterly shall pass,In vapor of smoke, the glorious excellency,The pomp, the pride, nay, but the being itself,Of this our nation from beneath the sun,Let once the hideous doctrine of a ChristCondemned and crucified usurp the placeIn Hebrew hearts of that undying hopeWe cherish of Messiah yet to reignIn power and glory more than Solomon's,From sunrise round to sunrise without end,And tread the Gentiles underneath our feet."Indignant patriot spirit in the breastOf Rachel mixed itself with kindred prideAnd gladness for her brother gleaming soBefore her in a kind of fulgurous scornWhich made his hearers quail while they admired;She could not stay a sudden gush of tears.But Saul's voice now took on a winning change,As, deprecating gently, thus he spoke:"Forgive, my brethren, I have used hot wordsFreely and frankly, as great love may speak.But that I love you, trust you, hope of youThe best, the noblest, when once more you areYourselves, and feel the spirit of your pastCome back, I had not cared to speak at all.I simply should have hung my head in shame,Worn sackcloth, gone with ashes on my brow,And sealed my hand upon my lips for youForever. Love does not despair, but hopesForever. And I love you far too wellTo dream despair of you. Bethink yourselves,My brethren! Me, as if I were the voiceOf your own ancient aspiration, hear.Bear with me, let me chide, say not that loveLured me to over-confidence of you."Be patient now, my brethren, while I go,So briefly as I may, through argumentThat well might ask the leisure of long hours,To show from Scripture, from authority,From reason and from nature too not less,Why we should hold to our ancestral faith,And not the low fanatic creed admitOf such as preach for Christ one crucified.Be patient—I myself must patient be,Tutoring down my heart to let my tongueSpeak calmly, as in doubtful argument,Where I am fixed and confident to scorn."As when Gennesaret, in his circling hills,By wing of wind down swooping suddenlyIs into tempest wrought that, to his depthsAstir, he rouses, and on high his wavesUplifts like mountains snowy-capped with foam;So, smitten with the vehement impactAnd passion of Saul's rash, abruptBeginning, that mercurial multitudeHad answered with commotion such as seemedMenace of instant act of violence:But, as when haply there succeeds a lullTo tempest, then the waves of GalileeSink from their swelling and smooth down to planeYet deep will roll awhile from shore to shoreThat long slow undulation following storm;So, when, with wise self-recollection, Saul,In mid-career of passionate appeal,Stayed, and those gusts of stormy eloquenceImpetuous poured no longer on the seaOf audience underneath him, but, instead,Proposed a sober task of argument,The surging throng surceased its turbulence,And settled from commotion into calm;Yet so as still to feel the rock and swayOf central agitation at its heart,While thus that master of its moods went on:"What said Jehovah to the serpent vileWhich tempted Eve? Did he not speak of One,Offspring to her seduced, Who should ariseTo crush the offending head? No hint, I trow,Of meekness and obedience unto deathFound there at least, death on the shameful tree,Forsooth, to be the character and doomOf that foretokened Champion of his kind,That haughty Trampler upon Satan's head!"To Abraham our father was of GodForetold, 'In thee shall all the familiesOf the earth be blessed.' What blessing, pray, could comeAbroad upon mankind through Abraham's seed,Messiah, should Messiah, Abraham's seed,Prove to be such as now is preached to you,A shame, a jest, a byword, a reproach,A hissing and a wagging of the head,A gazing-stock and mark for tongues shot out—Burlesque and travesty of our brave hopesAnd of our vaunts, shown vain, rife everywhereAmong the nations, that erelong a princeShould from the stem of Jesse spring, to swayAn universal sceptre through the world?"Did God mock Abraham? Did He mean, perchance,That all the families of the earth should findPeculiar blessedness in triumphingOver that puissant nation promised him,His progeny, to match the stars of heavenFor multitude, and be as on the shoreThe sands, innumerable? Was such the senseOf promise and of prophecy? Behooves,Then, we be glad and thankful, we, on whomThe fullness of the time now falls, to beThis blessing to the Gentiles. But ye halt,Beloved. Slack and slow seem ye to greetThe honor fixed on you. Why, hearken! Ye,Ye, out of all the generations, yeFallen on the times of Jesus crucified,May count yourselves elect and called of GodTo bless the Gentiles, in affording themUnquenchable amusement to beholdYour wretched plight and broken pride! Now clapYour hands, ye chosen! Let your mouth be filledWith laughter, and your tongue with singing filled!"Nay, sons of Abraham, nay. No mocking wordsSpake He who cannot lie, Lord God of truthAnd grace. He meant that Abraham's race should reignFrom sea to sea while sun and moon endure.And ever a blessing true it is to menTo bend the neck beneath an equal yokeOf ruler strong and wise and just to rule.Then will at last the Gentiles blesséd beIn Abraham, when, from Abraham's loins derivedThrough David, God's Anointed shall begin,In David's city, His long governmentOf the wide world, and every heathen nameShall kiss the rod and own Messiah king."Our father Jacob, touched with prophecy,Spake of a sceptre that should not departFrom Judah until Shiloh came, to WhomThe obedience of the peoples was to be;A sceptre, symbol of authorityAnd rule, law-giving attribute, resortOf subject nations speeding to a yoke—Such ever everywhere in Holy WritThe image and the character impressedOn God's Messiah, hope of Israel."What need I more? Wherefore to ears like yours,Well used to hear them in the temple chantsResounded with responsive voice to voice,Rehearse those triumphs and antiphoniesWherein Jehovah Father to His SonMessiah speaks: 'Ask Thou of Me, and ITo Thee the heathen for inheritanceWill give, and for possession the extremeParts of the earth. Thou shalt with rod of ironBreak them, yea, shatter them shalt Thou in shards,Like a clay vessel from the potters hand.Be wise now, therefore, O ye kings, be yeInstructed, judges of the earth. Kiss yeThe Son, lest He be angry, and His wrath,Full soon to be enkindled, you devour.'Tell me, which mood of prophecy is that,The meek or the heroic? Craven he,Or king, to whom Jehovah deigns such speech,Concerning whom such counsel recommends?"'Gird Thou upon Thy thigh Thy sword, O ThouMost Mighty,'—so once more the psalmist, raptProphetical as to a martial rage,Breaks forth, Jehovah to Messiah speaking—'Gird on Thy glory and Thy majesty;And in Thy majesty ride prosperously,And Thy right hand shall teach Thee terrible things.Sharp in the heart of the king's enemiesThine arrows are, whereby the peoples fallBeneath Thee.' Such Messiah is, a manOf war and captain of the host of God.Nay, now it mounts to a deific strain,The prophet exultation of the psalm:'Thy throne, O God' it sings—advancing Him,Messiah, to the unequalled dignityAnd lonely glory of theONEI AM,Audacious figure—close on blasphemy,Were it not God who speaks—to representThe dazzling splendors of Messiahship."Let us erect our spirits from the dust,My brethren, and, as sons of God, nay, godsPronounced—unless we grovel and belowOur birthright due, unfilial and unfit,Sink self-depressed—let us, I pray you, rise,Buoyed upward from within by sense of worthIncapable to be extinguished, rise,Found equal to the will of God for us,And know the true Messiah when He comes.Be sure that when He comes, His high degreeWill shine illustrious, like the sun in heaven,Not feebly flicker for your fishermenFrom Galilee to point it out to youWith their illiterate 'Lo, here!' 'Lo, there!'"At this increasing burst of scorn from Saul,Exultant like the pæan and the cryThat rises through the palpitating airWhen storming warriors take the citadel,Once more from Rachel's fixéd eyes the tearsOf sympathetic exultation flowed—The sister with the brother, as in strifeBefore the battle striving equally,Now equally in triumph triumphing.But Saul, his triumph, felt to be secure,Securer still will make with new appeal:"If so, as we have seen, the Scriptures trend,Not less the current of tradition too—No counter-current, eddy none—one stress,Steady and full, from Adam down to you,Runs strong the self-same way. Out of the pastWhat voice is heard in contradiction? None."Turn round and ask the present; you shall hearOne answer still the same from every mouthOf scribe or master versed in Holy Writ.Tradition and authority in thisAgree with Scripture, teaching to awaitFor our deliverer an anointed king.What ruler of our people has believedIn Jesus, him of Nazareth, Joseph's son,As Christ of God? If any, then some soulSelf-judged unworthy of his rulership,Secret disciple, shunning to avowHis faith, and justly therefore counted naught—Ruler in name, in nature rather slave."And now I bid you look within your breastAnd answer, Does not your own heart rebelAgainst the gospel of the Nazarene?'Gospel,' forsooth! Has God, who made your heart,Provided you for gospel what your heartRejects with loathing? Likely seems it, pray,Becoming, fit, that He Who, on the mountOf Sinai once the law promulging, thereDisplayed His glory more than mortal eyeCould bear to look upon or ear to hear—Who in the temple hid behind the veilShekinah blazed between the cherubim—Nay, tell me, seems it tolerable evenTo you, that your Jehovah God should choose,Lover of splendor as He is, and power,To represent Himself among mankindNot merely naked of magnificence,But outright squalid in the mean estateAnd person of a carpenter, to dieAt last apparent felon crucified?Reason and nature outraged cry aloud,'For shame! For shame!' at blasphemy like this."A strange ungentle impulse moved the heartOf Rachel to a mood like mutiny,And almost she "For shame!" herself cried outIn echo to her brother's vehemence;While murmur as of wind rousing to stormRan through the assembly at such words from Saul,The passion of the speaker so prevailedTo stir responsive passion in their breasts.This Saul perceiving said, in scornful pride,Fallaciously foretasting triumph won:"Ye men of Israel, gladly I perceiveSome embers of the ancient fire remain,If smouldering, not extinguished, in your breasts.I will not further chafe your noble rage.You are, if I mistake not, now preparedTo hear more safely, if less patiently,The eloquence I keep you from too long.Let me bespeak for Stephen your best heed."And Saul, as if in gesture of surcease,A pace retiring, waved around his handToward Stephen, opposite not far, the whileHis nostril he dispread, and mobile lipCurled, in the height of contumelious scorn;And Rachel, where she stood, unconsciously,The transport of her sympathy was such,Repeated with her features what she saw.
Like a wise soldier on some task intentOf moment and of hazard, who, at heartSecure of prospering, yet no caution counts,No pains, unworthy, but with wary feetExplores his ground about him every rood,All elements of chance forecalculates,Draws to his part each doubtful circumstance;Never too much provided, point by pointEquips himself superfluously strong,That he prevailing may with might prevail,And overcome with bounteous victory;So Saul, firm in resolve and confident,And inly stung with conscience and with zealNot to postpone his weighty work proposed,Would not be hasty found, nor rash, to failOf any circumspection that his sureTriumph might make more sure, or wider stretchIts margin, certain to be wide.Some daysAfter the council, he, with forecast sageAnd prudence to prepare, refrained himselfFrom word or deed in public; while, at home,Not moody, but not genial as his use,His gracious use, was, self-absorbed, retiredIn deep and absent muse, he nigh might seemA stranger to his sister well-beloved,Wont to be sharer of his inmost mind.
Inmost, save one reserve. He never yetHad shown to any, scarce himself had seen,The true deep master motive of his soul,That fountain darkling in the depths of selfWhence into light all streams of being flowed.Saul daily, nightly, waking, sleeping, dreamedOf a new nation, his belovéd own,Resurgent from the dust consummate fair,And, for chief corner-stone, with shoutings rearedTo station in the stately edifice—Whom but himself? Who worthier than Saul?
This beckoning image bright of things to be—Audacious-lovelier far than might be shownTo any, yea, than he himself dared look,With his own eyes, steadfast and frank upon—Was interblent so closely in his mindWith what should be the fortune and effectOf his intended controversy nigh,That, though his settled purpose to disputeHe had for public reasons publiclyDeclared, he yet in private, of that strife,Still future, everywhere to speak abstained,Abiding even unto his sister dumb.
Rachel from Tarsus to JerusalemHad borne her brother company, her heartOne heart with his to cheer him toward the goalOf his high purpose, which she knew, to beBeyond his equals master in the law.Alone they dwelt together, their abodeBetween Gamaliel's and the synagogueOf the Cilicians. Beautiful and brightHis home she made to him, with housewife waysNeat-handed, and with fair companionship.
The sister, with that quick intelligenceThe woman's, first divined, for secret causeOf this her brother's travailing silentness,That he some pregnant enterprise revolved;Then, having, with the woman's wit, found meansTo advise herself what enterprise it was,She, with the woman's tact of sympathy,In watchful quiet reverent of his mood,Strove with him and strove for him, in her thought,Her wish, her hope, her prayer; nor failed sometimesA word to drop, unconsciously as seemed,By lucky chance, that might perhaps conveyA timely help of apt suggestion wiseTo Saul her brother for his purpose, heAll undisturbed to guess that aught was meant.
At home, abroad, reserved, Saul not the lessAll places of men's frequence and resortStill visited, and mixed with crowds to catchThe whisper of the people; active not,But not supine, observing unobservedAs if alone amid the multitude.The brave apostles of the NazareneHe heard proclaim their master Lord and Christ,And marked their method in the Scriptures; notWith open mind obedient toward the truth,But ever only with shut heart and hard,Intent on knowing how to contradict.
Meanwhile the novel doctrines spread, and foundNew converts day by day, and day by dayProclaimers new. Of these more eminentWas none than Stephen, flaming prophet he,Quenchless in spirit, full of faith and power.Him oft Saul heard, to listening throngs that hungUpon the herald's lips with eager ear,The claim of Jesus to MessiahshipAssert, and from the psalms and prophets prove.
In guise a seraph rapt, with love aflameAnd all aflame with knowledge, like the bushThat burned with God in Horeb unconsumed,The fervent pure apostle Stephen stood,In ardors from celestial altars caughtKindling to incandescence—stood and forged,With ringing blow on blow, his argument,A vivid weapon edged and tempered so,And in those hands so wielded, that its strokeNo mortal might abide and bide upright.Stephen is such as Saul erelong will beRisen from the baptism of the Holy Ghost!
Saul felt the breath of human power that blewRound Stephen like a morning wind, he feltThe light that lifted and transfigured himAnd glorified, that bright auroral rayOf genius which forever makes the browIt strikes on from its fountain far in GodShine like the sunrise-smitten mountain peak—Saul felt these things in Stephen by his tieWith Stephen in the fellowship of power;Kindred to kindred answered and rejoiced.But that in Stephen which was more and higherThan Stephen at his native most and highest,The inhabitation of the Holy Ghost—This, Saul had yet no sense to apprehend.The Spirit of God, only the Spirit of GodCan know; the natural man to Him is deafAnd blind. Saul, therefore, seeing did not see,And hearing heard not. But no less his heart,In seeing and in hearing Stephen speak,Leapt up with recognition of a peerIn power to be his meet antagonistAnd task him to his uttermost to foil.Beyond Saul's uttermost it was to be,That task! though this of Stephen not, but God.
Still goaded day by day with such desireAs nobler spirits know, to feel the strainAnd wrestle of antagonistic thewsTempting his might and stirring up his mind,Saul felt, besides, the motion and fermentAnd great dilation of a patriot soul,Magnanimous, laboring for his country's cause.He thought the doctrines of the NazarenePernicious to the Jewish commonwealth,Not less than was his person base, his lifeUnseemly, and opprobrious his death.He saw, or deemed he saw, in what was taughtFrom Jesus, only deep disparagementDisloyally implied of everythingNearest and dearest to the Hebrew heart.The gospel was high treason in Saul's eyes;Suppose it but established in success,The temple then would be no more what erstIt was, the daily sacrifice would cease,The holy places would with heathen feetBe trodden and profaned, the middle wallOf old partition between Jew and GreekWould topple undermined, the ritual lawOf Moses would be obsolete and void,Common would be the oracles of God,To all divulged, peculiar once to Jews—Of Jewish name and nation what were left?Such thoughts, that seemed of liberal scope, were Saul's,Commingled, he not knowing, with some thoughts,Less noble, of his own aggrandizement.
It came at length to pass that on a dayThe spacious temple-court is thronged with thoseCome from all quarters to Jerusalem,Or dwellers of the city, fain to hearOnce more the preacher suddenly so famed.Present is Saul, but not as heretoforeTo hearken only and observe; the hourHas struck when his own voice he must uplift,To make it heard abroad.He dreamed it not,But Rachel too was there, his sister. SheHad, from sure signs observed, aright surmisedThat the ripe time to speak was come to Saul.In her glad loyalty, she doubted notThat he, that day, would, out of a full mind,Pressed overfull with affluence from the heart,Pour forth a stream of generous eloquence—Stream, nay, slope torrent, steep sheer cataract,Of reason and of passion intermixed—For such she proudly felt her brother's power—Which down should rush upon his adversariesAnd carry them away as with a flood,Astonished, overwhelmed, and whirled afar;Rescued at least the ruins of the state!So glorying in her high vicarious hopeFor Saul her brother, Rachel came that mornBetimes and chose her out a safe recessFor easy audience, nigh, and yet retired,Between the pillars of a stately porch,Where she might see and not by him be seen.
Thence Rachel watched all eagerly; when nowThe multitude, expecting Stephen, sawA different man stand forth with beckoning handAs if to speak. The act and attitudeCommanded audience, for a king of menStood there, and a great silence fell on all.Some knew the face of the young Pharisee,These whispered round his name; Saul's name and fameTo all were known, and, ere the speaker spoke,Won him a deepening heed.Rachel the hushFelt with a secret sympathetic awe,And for one breath her beating heart stood still;It leapt again to hear her brother's voicePealing out bold in joyous sense of power.That noble voice, redounding like a surgePushed by the tide, on swept before the wind,And all the ocean shouldering at its back,Which seeks out every inlet of the shoreTo brim it flush and level from the brine—Such Saul's voice swelled, as from a plenteous sea,And, wave on wave of pure elastic tone,Rejoicing ran through every gallery,And every echoing endless colonnade,And every far-retreating least recessOf building round about that temple-court,And filled the temple-court with silver sound—As thus, with haughty summons, he began:"Ye men of Israel, sojourners from farOr dwellers in Jerusalem, give heed.The lines are fallen to us in evil times:Opinions run abroad perverse and strange,Divergent from the faith our fathers held.A day is come, brethren, and fallen on us—On us, this living generation, bigWith promise, or with threat, of mighty doom.Which will ye have it? Threat, or promise, which?Yours is the choosing—choose ye may, ye must.
"Abolish Moses, if ye will; destroyThe great traditions of your fathers; sayAbraham was naught, naught Isaac, Jacob, allThe patriarchs, heroes, martyrs, prophets, kings;That Seed of Abraham naught, our nation's Hope,Foretold to be an universal King;Make one wide blank and void, an emptied page,Of all the awful glories of our past—Deliverance out of Egypt, miracleOn miracle wrought dreadfully for usAgainst our foes, path cloven through the sea,Jehovah in the pillar of cloud and fire,And host of Pharaoh mightily overthrown;The law proclaimed on Sinai amid soundAnd light insufferable and angels nighAttending; manna in the wilderness;The rock that lived and moved and followed them,Our fathers, flowing water in the waste—Obliterate at a stroke whatever setsThe seal of God upon you as His own,And marks you different from the heathen round—Shekinah fixed between the cherubim,The vacant Holy of Holies filled with God,The morning and the evening sacrifice,Priest, altar, incense, choral hymn and psalm,Confused melodious noise of instrumentsTogether sounding the high praise of God;All this, with more I will not stay to tell,This temple itself with its magnificence,The hope of Him foreshown, the MessengerOf that eternal covenant whereinYour souls delight themselves, Who suddenlyOne day shall come unto His temple—blot,Expunge, erase, efface, consent to beNo more a people, mix and merge yourselvesWith aliens, blood that in your veins flows pureAll the long way one stream continuous downFrom Abraham called the friend of God—such bloodAdulterate in the idolatrous, corruptPool of the Gentiles—men of Israel!Or are ye men? and are ye Israel?I stand in doubt of you—I stand in doubtOf kinsmen mine supposed that bide to hearSuch things as seems that ye with pleasure hear!
"Say, know ye not they mean to take awayYour place and name? Are ye so blind? Or areYe only base poor creatures caring notThough knowing well? Oft have ye seen the fatOf lambs upon the flaming altar fumeOne instant and in fume consume away;So swiftly and so utterly shall pass,In vapor of smoke, the glorious excellency,The pomp, the pride, nay, but the being itself,Of this our nation from beneath the sun,Let once the hideous doctrine of a ChristCondemned and crucified usurp the placeIn Hebrew hearts of that undying hopeWe cherish of Messiah yet to reignIn power and glory more than Solomon's,From sunrise round to sunrise without end,And tread the Gentiles underneath our feet."
Indignant patriot spirit in the breastOf Rachel mixed itself with kindred prideAnd gladness for her brother gleaming soBefore her in a kind of fulgurous scornWhich made his hearers quail while they admired;She could not stay a sudden gush of tears.
But Saul's voice now took on a winning change,As, deprecating gently, thus he spoke:"Forgive, my brethren, I have used hot wordsFreely and frankly, as great love may speak.But that I love you, trust you, hope of youThe best, the noblest, when once more you areYourselves, and feel the spirit of your pastCome back, I had not cared to speak at all.I simply should have hung my head in shame,Worn sackcloth, gone with ashes on my brow,And sealed my hand upon my lips for youForever. Love does not despair, but hopesForever. And I love you far too wellTo dream despair of you. Bethink yourselves,My brethren! Me, as if I were the voiceOf your own ancient aspiration, hear.Bear with me, let me chide, say not that loveLured me to over-confidence of you.
"Be patient now, my brethren, while I go,So briefly as I may, through argumentThat well might ask the leisure of long hours,To show from Scripture, from authority,From reason and from nature too not less,Why we should hold to our ancestral faith,And not the low fanatic creed admitOf such as preach for Christ one crucified.Be patient—I myself must patient be,Tutoring down my heart to let my tongueSpeak calmly, as in doubtful argument,Where I am fixed and confident to scorn."
As when Gennesaret, in his circling hills,By wing of wind down swooping suddenlyIs into tempest wrought that, to his depthsAstir, he rouses, and on high his wavesUplifts like mountains snowy-capped with foam;So, smitten with the vehement impactAnd passion of Saul's rash, abruptBeginning, that mercurial multitudeHad answered with commotion such as seemedMenace of instant act of violence:But, as when haply there succeeds a lullTo tempest, then the waves of GalileeSink from their swelling and smooth down to planeYet deep will roll awhile from shore to shoreThat long slow undulation following storm;So, when, with wise self-recollection, Saul,In mid-career of passionate appeal,Stayed, and those gusts of stormy eloquenceImpetuous poured no longer on the seaOf audience underneath him, but, instead,Proposed a sober task of argument,The surging throng surceased its turbulence,And settled from commotion into calm;Yet so as still to feel the rock and swayOf central agitation at its heart,While thus that master of its moods went on:"What said Jehovah to the serpent vileWhich tempted Eve? Did he not speak of One,Offspring to her seduced, Who should ariseTo crush the offending head? No hint, I trow,Of meekness and obedience unto deathFound there at least, death on the shameful tree,Forsooth, to be the character and doomOf that foretokened Champion of his kind,That haughty Trampler upon Satan's head!
"To Abraham our father was of GodForetold, 'In thee shall all the familiesOf the earth be blessed.' What blessing, pray, could comeAbroad upon mankind through Abraham's seed,Messiah, should Messiah, Abraham's seed,Prove to be such as now is preached to you,A shame, a jest, a byword, a reproach,A hissing and a wagging of the head,A gazing-stock and mark for tongues shot out—Burlesque and travesty of our brave hopesAnd of our vaunts, shown vain, rife everywhereAmong the nations, that erelong a princeShould from the stem of Jesse spring, to swayAn universal sceptre through the world?
"Did God mock Abraham? Did He mean, perchance,That all the families of the earth should findPeculiar blessedness in triumphingOver that puissant nation promised him,His progeny, to match the stars of heavenFor multitude, and be as on the shoreThe sands, innumerable? Was such the senseOf promise and of prophecy? Behooves,Then, we be glad and thankful, we, on whomThe fullness of the time now falls, to beThis blessing to the Gentiles. But ye halt,Beloved. Slack and slow seem ye to greetThe honor fixed on you. Why, hearken! Ye,Ye, out of all the generations, yeFallen on the times of Jesus crucified,May count yourselves elect and called of GodTo bless the Gentiles, in affording themUnquenchable amusement to beholdYour wretched plight and broken pride! Now clapYour hands, ye chosen! Let your mouth be filledWith laughter, and your tongue with singing filled!
"Nay, sons of Abraham, nay. No mocking wordsSpake He who cannot lie, Lord God of truthAnd grace. He meant that Abraham's race should reignFrom sea to sea while sun and moon endure.And ever a blessing true it is to menTo bend the neck beneath an equal yokeOf ruler strong and wise and just to rule.Then will at last the Gentiles blesséd beIn Abraham, when, from Abraham's loins derivedThrough David, God's Anointed shall begin,In David's city, His long governmentOf the wide world, and every heathen nameShall kiss the rod and own Messiah king.
"Our father Jacob, touched with prophecy,Spake of a sceptre that should not departFrom Judah until Shiloh came, to WhomThe obedience of the peoples was to be;A sceptre, symbol of authorityAnd rule, law-giving attribute, resortOf subject nations speeding to a yoke—Such ever everywhere in Holy WritThe image and the character impressedOn God's Messiah, hope of Israel.
"What need I more? Wherefore to ears like yours,Well used to hear them in the temple chantsResounded with responsive voice to voice,Rehearse those triumphs and antiphoniesWherein Jehovah Father to His SonMessiah speaks: 'Ask Thou of Me, and ITo Thee the heathen for inheritanceWill give, and for possession the extremeParts of the earth. Thou shalt with rod of ironBreak them, yea, shatter them shalt Thou in shards,Like a clay vessel from the potters hand.Be wise now, therefore, O ye kings, be yeInstructed, judges of the earth. Kiss yeThe Son, lest He be angry, and His wrath,Full soon to be enkindled, you devour.'Tell me, which mood of prophecy is that,The meek or the heroic? Craven he,Or king, to whom Jehovah deigns such speech,Concerning whom such counsel recommends?
"'Gird Thou upon Thy thigh Thy sword, O ThouMost Mighty,'—so once more the psalmist, raptProphetical as to a martial rage,Breaks forth, Jehovah to Messiah speaking—'Gird on Thy glory and Thy majesty;And in Thy majesty ride prosperously,And Thy right hand shall teach Thee terrible things.Sharp in the heart of the king's enemiesThine arrows are, whereby the peoples fallBeneath Thee.' Such Messiah is, a manOf war and captain of the host of God.Nay, now it mounts to a deific strain,The prophet exultation of the psalm:'Thy throne, O God' it sings—advancing Him,Messiah, to the unequalled dignityAnd lonely glory of theONEI AM,Audacious figure—close on blasphemy,Were it not God who speaks—to representThe dazzling splendors of Messiahship.
"Let us erect our spirits from the dust,My brethren, and, as sons of God, nay, godsPronounced—unless we grovel and belowOur birthright due, unfilial and unfit,Sink self-depressed—let us, I pray you, rise,Buoyed upward from within by sense of worthIncapable to be extinguished, rise,Found equal to the will of God for us,And know the true Messiah when He comes.Be sure that when He comes, His high degreeWill shine illustrious, like the sun in heaven,Not feebly flicker for your fishermenFrom Galilee to point it out to youWith their illiterate 'Lo, here!' 'Lo, there!'"
At this increasing burst of scorn from Saul,Exultant like the pæan and the cryThat rises through the palpitating airWhen storming warriors take the citadel,Once more from Rachel's fixéd eyes the tearsOf sympathetic exultation flowed—The sister with the brother, as in strifeBefore the battle striving equally,Now equally in triumph triumphing.
But Saul, his triumph, felt to be secure,Securer still will make with new appeal:"If so, as we have seen, the Scriptures trend,Not less the current of tradition too—No counter-current, eddy none—one stress,Steady and full, from Adam down to you,Runs strong the self-same way. Out of the pastWhat voice is heard in contradiction? None.
"Turn round and ask the present; you shall hearOne answer still the same from every mouthOf scribe or master versed in Holy Writ.Tradition and authority in thisAgree with Scripture, teaching to awaitFor our deliverer an anointed king.What ruler of our people has believedIn Jesus, him of Nazareth, Joseph's son,As Christ of God? If any, then some soulSelf-judged unworthy of his rulership,Secret disciple, shunning to avowHis faith, and justly therefore counted naught—Ruler in name, in nature rather slave.
"And now I bid you look within your breastAnd answer, Does not your own heart rebelAgainst the gospel of the Nazarene?'Gospel,' forsooth! Has God, who made your heart,Provided you for gospel what your heartRejects with loathing? Likely seems it, pray,Becoming, fit, that He Who, on the mountOf Sinai once the law promulging, thereDisplayed His glory more than mortal eyeCould bear to look upon or ear to hear—Who in the temple hid behind the veilShekinah blazed between the cherubim—Nay, tell me, seems it tolerable evenTo you, that your Jehovah God should choose,Lover of splendor as He is, and power,To represent Himself among mankindNot merely naked of magnificence,But outright squalid in the mean estateAnd person of a carpenter, to dieAt last apparent felon crucified?Reason and nature outraged cry aloud,'For shame! For shame!' at blasphemy like this."
A strange ungentle impulse moved the heartOf Rachel to a mood like mutiny,And almost she "For shame!" herself cried outIn echo to her brother's vehemence;While murmur as of wind rousing to stormRan through the assembly at such words from Saul,The passion of the speaker so prevailedTo stir responsive passion in their breasts.This Saul perceiving said, in scornful pride,Fallaciously foretasting triumph won:"Ye men of Israel, gladly I perceiveSome embers of the ancient fire remain,If smouldering, not extinguished, in your breasts.I will not further chafe your noble rage.You are, if I mistake not, now preparedTo hear more safely, if less patiently,The eloquence I keep you from too long.Let me bespeak for Stephen your best heed."
And Saul, as if in gesture of surcease,A pace retiring, waved around his handToward Stephen, opposite not far, the whileHis nostril he dispread, and mobile lipCurled, in the height of contumelious scorn;And Rachel, where she stood, unconsciously,The transport of her sympathy was such,Repeated with her features what she saw.