The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 28, 1902, Page 2

2 £ s repast was enlivened with mu- & ncing, end the latter, much to my relief, soon engrossed the attention of L high priest. m what I b e. addressing the host, but bestow- »on me & quick and meaning glance, John, of whom thou spake about most dangerous man, and one treatest with far too great con- He is a firebrand among the h well nigh wrought them of breaking into open in- st thy mild and most be- The evil seed he hath springing up in Galilee, of Nazareth hath an- as the Messiah so indus- imed by this Jobn. He the Holy City and even dared himself at the Temple seek- cussions in the porches. self-styled prophet, who like a wild man in the » country preparing the subjects of thine and hee to suppress k heresy and may soon llion against thine au- s that of the Emperor.” gment a little too se- y. “I have said Annas, after a: visited ted the elder lady “Indiscreet, indiscre. appointed have thy with gen- muiated sur- admitted arent reluc- religious ofessed to he Most High him the use year; eed, he is son, this very re begin- w is ripen- that Jesus and runs in the of madness that s. Have a care, 2 have an active he Jord tetrarch of Gal P erod the g ambition of this tature of this hted his eye hed hands, other upon ht that im of k the growi ve done with priesteraft and H as, smiling most My daughter hath con- dance for the entertainment of I would not have years, Annas y that of or stage, almost in ueting hall. In an g of glasses and the r _and conversation being fixed upon the plat- e beautiful girl stood. later the music began. Never of our banquet on the I seen such graceful neither time nor dispo- o describe it, but it was after the Idumeans, from whom is_descended, and evident- hearts of every beholder, of my most unhappy seif. arch, he sat as one en- . too much engrossed, , t9 even join in the niversal applause, d only when the maid ted, for the guests ties, and clamored continuance. As she sank beside her mother, Annas, iest and still virtual head people, arcse and gravely posed r _healtk This was drunk a most indecorous shous, turbans be- g tossed into the air and glasses shat- that rpowered him. For as if spellbound, throw! ed the smil- ing girl far too ge! ous an ¢ Thy desires must be bounded by my rned Herod, ““but, f my possessio; of me I will free by my head, by t b convenience. Is it just who hath revived, the dance of the ants of Esau, thine answered Herod, nger, “for I am ever truth and abide by me show of to speak the my promises, and’ all priests have mnot done £0 much. Yet an oath will not ad a single de to the debt 1 have to pay. By y and most high God I swear to make good my promise. Come now, decide,” he continued, addressing the glowing and triumphant maiden. “He- rodias, thy mother, hath an inventory of all my possessions; consult with her.” An instant er and the heads of the mother and daughter were bowed togeth- er in earnest consultation. I have heard it said gazing very earnestly upon an: you can, through some mysterious cause, force him to ‘look up and meet thine own eves; the truth of this I was soon to learn. It was a critical, a most exciting mo- ment. Anything within the power of Herod Antipas, to extent of half t wvast fortune that had been more than 3 century accumulating! "Twas the climax s truly royal climax to a feast the like of which had not been seen Palestine since the days of Herod Great. What would she choose? His a most fabulous collection of jewels? H splendid palace at Tiberias? in that vast and nmow hushed was fixed upon the two bowed whose perfumed hair was mi gether like a glorious That is, every eve I knew something o ning of Annas’ cold culating heart, and was more interested in fathoming the dark thoughts that were passing in hi mind than in guessing what the maid end her designing mother choose. shining saving only mine. the craft and cun- q i priest ey but the matured, ealculating matron, whose fame had been tarnished by the stinging words of th mprisoned Baptist. At length he had hi reward; she raised her eyes and ced steadily upon him. The glance was but momentary, vet it served his purpose. He placed one of his clenched hands upon the other, as he had done when addressing Antipas. ard smiled a smile that susgested a volume of iniquity; 2 smile that might well have wreath in the hideous the garden It occupied but a_moment of time and passed unnoticed, I think, by all- save myself. The muscles of the clenched hands relaxed and they—so strong is the power of hypocritical habit—were soon clasped .= if their owner were address- ing a2 prayer to the Most High. The be- witching eves of Herodias sank. and her dark hair again mingled with the golden ace of the serpent tinted tresses of her fair daughter. “Hast decided?”’ asked the tet the > gir! d her beautiful, though, I tled and T} consider and overlook I possess. I neither regret min, dge thee thy just reward ed_face. ugh ocath nor 7 have chosen,” she replied. *“And what wilt thou have “1 will have thee bring me presently, convenience, t t upon a charger. on “the auditors; ed. the inconceivable, had Pysides the three actors in by-play ich decided 2 hu- life, T was probably the only noted the clenched hands and cruel priest, or, at least, the forrful suggestion they pas. who had arisen to his ke a drunken man; _hi if seized with a sudde ik 2s one exhausted upon Aught but that!” he i splendid co “Aught but THE fUNDAY CALL. fairly ped. ‘““Would'st make me a mur- derer? “’Twere well that ine oath was not confined to thy beard,” said Herodias in Enu—r.s( orn. ‘‘Remember that thou swore " “Peace, woman!"' interrupted the ed tetrarch, feebly yet impatient- y. “Thy cruel wigh shall .be gratifie Within an hour shall be brought to tl daughter, on a charger of gold, the head ef Jok the son of Zaeharias, called the Baptist.”" With this he turned and beckoned me to_approach. “Go now,” said;he in.a Tow voice, “with the page who waits yonder and/see John while he vet lives.” ““C st thou not make téerme and spare * 1 suggested. thou knowest not women| at those who have a deadly griev- that Jezebel of mine yonder. avail naught though I surren- Twould dered all my possessions, and mine own life in addition. Go now and prepare John for his approaching death. And, Judas—'"* In th t of leaving, I turned back at these 12 “Ask nay grant it unto thee, for he good man—ask John to forgiv h extended hand of & ation for a woman had dri e commission of an awtul crime, m ried with a heavy heart upon 1 gruesome mission, IL Up long stairways of massi followed my youthful guide. as was my mind, I mech eps and learned that th 3 ndred and thirty. We paused at lenth at a massive oaken door before which an armed soldier wdlked slowly to and fro. At the command of the page, produced a_huge key, >cked the door, and gruffly bade me r.. Complying > mandate, 1 fo f in a la the rtment, Baptist and my two ten- late Long nightly vigils and/recent 1d_told sadly upon the e Lord. Worn to an al- which eemed to 3 s g stature, his were still bright and piercing, his face contented and hopeful irace and peace be with th d I, ng how much he needed the first and he was to find the second with thee, brother,” he answered. t one of the ¢ iples of the her to visit me far beyond have told me 1 and bave de- ing These brethre saw and _he nto me the Lord's mest gra; e. Think not. wh eyes fthe whose ears the ., ‘This is my be- loved am well pleased'— this ored, I required faith. But many nd I wonld fain st the hour of ating myself upon a bench, to which, after taking me by the hand, John cou sly conducted me, I recounted some he most striking proofs of the M: s power that it had b v good fo witn 1 spoke briefly as ible under great difficulties, for I ex- pected every moment to hear the key turn in the lock and see Herod's bloody exe- cutioners enter, Lastly, I told him some- thing of the high eulogy that the Master Y upon him. my mission indeed completed; 2 of heaven at hand. sed speaking; “now am to depart.” master, speak not thus,” said most tearfully. “Thy prison doors vet be opened before thees thou wilt I he cried as I ce I read see the wilt sit at his feet as we have ot thine, wilt receive a_foretaste of the joys of eternal life. Be nct cast down ster.” “Thou mistakest me, Yoma; I am not cast down, but rather lifted up. This is mine hour of triumph. Strong though others thought me, I knew myself to be weak and feared that I might not prove faithful unto the end, thus bringing re- proach upon my Lord and his heavenly cause. Now all is secure, for my heavy though none the less gladsome task is ended.” “Speak not thus,” pleaded Yoma, whose love for John was evidently great. “Thy- self shalt see the glorious triumph of the Lord “Himeself will not see that; not as thou meanest it, for the power of the devil cannot be put down in a day, a year, or vet a generation. But the day will come when his work, like my humble task, will be completed. In that day he will be content, glad to go, as am I, his prophet and servant. I have often told thee, Yoma, that he must increase while 1 must decrease. My work is now accom- plished; my life will have run its course before the sand runs through an hour- glass that hath been newly turned. Is it net so, Judas of Kerioth?" The cold sweat had stood wupon my brow since the moment when I left the hall of revelry and feasting; for I had not expected to have my sad task so ghtened, knew not the depths of John's itual nature, the heights to which his prophetic soul could soar. “Say on,” he continued, as I attempted to speak but hesitated and stammered, my tongue fairly refusing to do its office. “Fear not to shock me by announcing the nearness of my reward. I have borne sorrow and suffering, lo these many days, and joy will not overwhelm me.” “God hath Indeed quickened thy sight, John,” T replied. “The order for thy death hath gone forth. Thine enemy, Herodias, hath prevailed against_thee. Blinded by admiration and passion Herod entrapped into consenting to thy death. He begged me to ask thy forgive- ness.” “It is granted, and may God likewiss forgive and enllghten m. I said bul now that my mission was accomplished; 1 was wro I have one more task to perform, cr rath a glorious prize to seize. As it w given me to be the first to proclaim ‘the, coming of the Messiah, 80 it is mine to be the first to die for him. Unworthy though I am, these two things will surely be remembered in_the kingdom "of heaven. 1_see behind me a long line of martyrs, destined to die in his cause. The scent of thefr blu(-‘| nd 'while cends like sweetest incense to the rils of the Most High, will keep alive d, and multiply his faith 1e nolsy tumbling z of the door as it y upon its rusty hinges and two tall, grim figures glided, rather than walked into the "apartment. Though arm: with javelins and huge two-handed SWOrd their dark and somber dress was in no e military. Beyond a doubt were the executioners ofjHerod Anti- nt to complete the triumph. of his wife and- theé intriguing ex-high priest. “‘We have business with thee,” said the foremost of the twain, as he leaned ainst the wall a massive gold charger. h upon which meats are served at . It bore a profile likeness of Augus- s Caesar and had doubtless been a pres- t from the first Emperor of Rome. I shuddered at the sight of that de'i- cately carved disk of gold, which had made glad tl arts of so many com- es of feasters, for I well knew th= ly prize it was soon to bear to one reckoned a dissevered human head ,x}m\fl half the wealth of a mighty pr vin pa Tis wi sald John, with a signifi- cant glance at the charger. “I will soon be at thy service.” He walked to the narrow window and turned his face toward Jerusale: the outlines which were plainly visible in the dis e, For some time he stood with bowed d and extended hanus, evide d in prayer. Then, tak- ing one picreing look at the Haly City, he turned and faced his. execu- ewell, brethren,” said he who was about to give up his life in the cause of a humanity. “You will t acrifice. Keep thy nd stoadfast, Judas, for thou ave need of both in a far more trying hour than this, May the blessiig of God and his Son be with you all, Farewell.” T said farewell with the others, saw a huge two-handed sword describe a_circle in_the air and closed mine affrighted eyes. I heard the duil crash of a falling body, heard the sound of footsteps and voices speaking in hoarse and indistinct whis- pers, heard the clanging of the heavy door. heard the key turn screechingly in its rus ards and opened them agaln. I saw the headless form of him who, his life work completed, had gone o glad- ly, so triumphantly, to his eternal reward, with his two faithful disciples kneeling in prayer beslde it. Moved as it seemed by an unseen force, I repeated the words of the Master: “Among those that are born of woman there hath not arisen a greater prophet than John the Baptist. “He is still greater now,” added Yoma, “for he hath entered into the kingdom of heaven.” The first shock of horror past, we re- moved the body from the pool of blood in which it lay, composed its limbs and cov- ered it with our mantles. Then we stoogd apart, each repeating prayers. In @ short time the door slowly opened, and the white face of the page peered cautiously, fearfully, into the room. ‘‘Canst bury the body if thou wilt,” he said, addressing me. “Soldiers are com- ing to bear it whither thou may’st direct,” “Not thus,” cried Gabriel, starting back in horror as the face of the boy disap- peared. “Thou must appeal to Herod, Ju- das, éhat the missing portion may be re- stored.” 2 Yoma hath been raised a strict Pharisee and believes implicitly in the resurrection of the body. 1 shared somewhat in his feelings, and, distasteful as the task was to me, descended the stairs to seek an in- terview with the tetrarch. The feast was still in progress when I secured an audience. All were drinking deeply, many being already drunk, while others were fast becoming so, Laughter and tumult reigned supreme, but all real merriment had departed. The outrageous and horrible murder had cast a cloud of gloom even over those whose hearts most lacked sympathy and pity. “John freely forgave thee,” said Iin a low tone to Herod, “and ne prayed God might do the same.” The tetrarch winced at my words. I then asked for the head of the Baptist that it nught be unitea with his body for burial. Bending forward Antipas whispered softly to his wife. Raising hergelf to a sitting posture, Herodias turnea and looked at ine ghascly head of the bapuist which rested upon a small table near her. Not a sign of hor- ror, grief or shame was visible on her handsome, haugnty face, but instead, a SIile ol satisiled scorn wreathed her sen- sual moutn. 2 et han have it,’” she sald, with a toss of her scorntuily poised head and a low laugh. ““Lhe prophét's lesson hath taught him discretion, “He will be mote careiul how he sianders women in the future.” A moment later and I stood in a corridor holding in my hands that which but an hour Lefore had been va.ued above a prin- cipality, I had arianged to meet the bear- e1s of the bouy 1n the courtyard and was preparing to go thither, when a hand de- Scended upon my arm; and a voice half wispered in my ea 2 “A word with thee, my son, before thou gbest thence.” “I'were a hard thing to recognize one in the dimly lighted passage way, but I weil knew Lhe low crafty tones; the speaker was Annas, the ex-high priest. 1.piaced my awful but sacred buraen, which was carefully wrapped in a large linen napkin, upon the stone tloor and confronted the man whom I both abhorred and feared. “He, who in troublous times, with the future dark and incertain, foments d cord and unrest in the minds of a people, may sometimes, if he be a truly wise man, live to receive the thanks and plau- @its of a liberated nation, but, when fool- ish and over-zeaious in a’ bad cause, gen- erally comes to-that.” ‘The ex-high priest, the most scheming politician that had appeared in Palestine during this generation, pointed to the white object at his feet, as he concluded the sentence. Confused for the moment by the sophistry, 1 answered nothing. A most promising young man,” .con- tinued Annas, “one of those t6 whom a broken and imprisoned Israel looketn for redemprion, thut has been led away, like of our fathers of old, by strange beguiled from the plam path of duty use prophets and alluring prom dom for toineé-oppresséd peopie. < been in Rome?™ have_been,” was my reply to this Thou len question, » Thou, who hast seen the legions return- mph from the -conquesis of the subjection of empires, d that the Jews can wrest t: o their God-given land, fro £ Tiberiug?” I thought of my first morning in Rome and the triumphal procession I had wit- nassed inthe Campus Martius, and gave, suppose, the most emphatic S blc, for again I t e the ist the Romans,” Annas re sumed, after waiting a moment for me to reply, “why'this arousing of the popu- lace? Qne clothed like a wild bea run- ning up and down through the waste places of the land and playing upon the patriotism, the superstitious belic cient and poorly undersfood prophecies, yea, the very religious fervor of a God fearing people, hatlf prepared the way for a new Messiah—the tenth within as many yea He that was late the sel ed ‘voice of one crying in the wild how still, how dumb, hath he become. “As my ‘eyes followed the index-finger of the speaker and rested upon the white napkin with its awful enclosure, my heart quite sank within me and I shuddered in sheer dismay. ‘““That misguided, fanatical man,” pro- ceeded ##o priest, “lost his life, not be- cause he denounced the marriage of Anti pas and Herodias—though that was enotgh to brand him as a madman—for his strictures were just enough, as the Pharisees interpret the law, but because he fought ageinst the real interests of the people, as regarded by the S8anhedrim, and by me. Thou art an observing maa, Judas of Kerloth, for thy years, though somewhat too frank and open to be a statesman. A year ago at Jerusalem, thou ‘heard’st my remark relative to sii- encing this very John through the aid of Herod Antipas; yea, and thou marveled'st at my thoughtléssness In making it, T read it in thy face. I meant it for thine own good, my son. This day, thine eyes and those of Herodias, alope notéd my clenched hands upon th& banqueting- board. Thou knowest who caused the maiden to reject jewels and lands; thou knowest whose will provided thee with that burden, there.” I knew all these things, yet the succinct and unblushing statement of them fairly bewildered me, weakened by excitement as I was. “Why do I tell thee these things?”’ An- nas went on, without pausing. “That I may save thee from a like fate and make thee a power for the real good of Israel. Thou hast talents—Rabbl “Samuel hast told me of thee, but I needed not his as- surance, for, like thyself, I am an obsery- ing man—thou hast rare gifts, and I would see thee use them aright; not for thine own sake alone—I like to be frank and open when I can—but because I have nesd of such as thee to advance the cause of Israel. Thou knowest not my plans! We ¢annot contend with Rome upon the field of battle, but liberty—yea, and thrones— have been won by diplomacy as well as by swords.” How alluring, how fascinating these words; two short years befors how they would have thrilled my heart, enlisted my hand‘and brain. But I had drank, tasted rather, of, the waters of eternal life," and my worldly ambition, my thirst for earth- ly fame, was quenched. “I have sought this interview and said these things unto thee for another rea- son.” Here Annas laid his hand familiar- 1y, almost-coaxingly, upon my arm. “Thou art become a_disciple, & confidant, I am told, of that Jesus of Nazareth of whom I spoke in thy hearing te Herod. For rea- sons of mine own 1 somewhat overstated the case to him. The works and teach- ings,of Jesus have been faithfully report- ed to l&f“ He 1s, I not doubt, a benev- olent ‘man, a kind friend - and a most lovable master and teacher; but_ his phil- osophy is foolishness, 'his jdeas. of religion only enthusiastic dreamings, his denuneia- tion of wealth and power, yea, of the Law, the rankest fanaticism. Granting that some of his notions are correct and ewevaung, they are far fn advance of the day in which he livés, and; if carried into effect, will bring ruin‘upon the land.” “If thou but saw and heard him, Rabbi, thou would’st believe on him,” I cried, so much was I encouraged by thie mild, half approving words of the priest. “Not so, Jud to me there is naught that is new in his teachings. Not an idea h been reported, but hath its counter- its germ at ieast, i _the words of our But'he hath ren- dered them mi ding by his interpreta- tion, dangerous in his distortions. Rabbl.’" T cried, excitedly, “he-is the Sgn of Godl! R ‘It 1s ,possible;” replied the priest, in tones indicative of reflection. “But, rabbi,” T imterrupted, “consider how the prophecies of our sacred scripture are fulfilled in him."” “When thou becomest rabboni, Judas, as thou wilt one day when. thine eyes are opened to the delustons that now possess thee, thou wilt learn that the law and the prophets can be most convenlently warped par! anciént sacred writers. and twisted to support any given theory, advance any cherished cause. Not a prophet has risen, not a Messiah present- ed himself since mine earliest recollection but vigorously quoted the scriptures in his own behalf. Without such backing ‘twere idle for one to make such lofty claims to a people like the Je whose hopes for the future are firmly grounded upon the promises of the past. The scrip- tures are indeed the word of God, but they must be read and expounded by God's own pri s and doctors. as ered,”” I urged, “how, in Tment of the prophecy of Isaiah, he auseth the blind to receive their sight, me to leap like harts, the deaf to how. he even raiseth those that are ‘‘Consider also the credulity of the peo- ple who expect such things of even the meanest of prophets, and thus offer a re- ward for the practice qf deception. Re- member how eagerly they welcome aught that looks toward their deliverance from the galling yoke of Rome, and how e: and indulgent such critics become. Nay lose not thy temper because I am not believer in thy Master, for I have not de- nied him such powers as were exercised of old by scores of men, who made not the impious claims of being divinely be- gotten. Mind is the crown of man, Judas; yield it not to the first who demands it of thee." Overwhelmed as I was by the awful ex- perience through which I had so recently passed, was stlil passing, T was unable to either think or speak clear] ‘Without resigning my faith, I was still strangely perplexed and depressed. I sought to answer the cold, cutting words of the priest, but found myself unable to do so. So, beyond reaffirming my faith that Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ, the Son of God, I said nothing. “This in parting, Judas,” said Annas, as he paused in the act of leaving me, and laid his hand familiarly upon my arm. “The voice that so confidently and triumphantly announced the coming of the Messiah in the person of thy Master, though dumb, still speaks, and that in tones that should reach thé ears of this Jesus of Nazareth. If he heafs the mes- .sage aright, ‘twill warn him of the danger of meeting a like fate. God works, prin- cipally at least, through human means, and, though this man be, as thou would’st have it, the Messiah for whom we look, he will never ascend the throne of David and redeem Israel, except he be recognized and aided by the Sanhedrim and chief men of the land, who are the real judges in the matter. If he be indeed the Christ, this will ceme to pass. Weigh well my words, that thou may’st protect from the fate 6f John, the Master whom thou lovest. Surrender not to any the crown of thy manhood—judgment. Fare- well.” I said farewell, watched the retreating figure as long as it remained in view and listened until the sound of its rustling, priestly robes no longer reached mine ears; then, resuming my sacred burden, I tottered ratber than walked toward the courtyard of the grim old castle. Had I exchanged for a phantom the crown of which Annas spoke; was I a deluded en- thusiast? Even in that awful hour I seemed to see, somewhere in the dim dis- tance, the sorrowful yet tender face of my glorious Master, and the sight strajghtened my drooping form and quickened my lagging footsteps. IIL. ‘We buried John the Baptist in the plain of Moab, at the foot of Mount Nebo. There I left Yoma, together with half a score of others, at the grave of the Bap- tist, and departed for Galilee. My announcement of the cruel death of John the Baptist excited a feeling of terror in many hearts and moved all to the deepest grief. While the Master manifested no surprise, he wept with us, after which he proceeded to comfort us as none save himself could have done. “But you must learn to bear your own burdens,” said he in conclusion, “for I shall not be ever with you. That you may do. this and, at the same time, acquire power to preach my gospel unto all men, it is meet that ye now go forth through- out the cities and towns of Galilee pfo- claiming the kingdom of heaven and ex- horting the people into_repentance. The Spirit of my Father shall descend upon you and you shall be given power over devils and over every manner,.of disease.” We were sent forth in pairs, Thomas being my companion. Not mntil the sec- ond day did I summon courage to speak and even then I trembled as I faced the people.. But my timidity soon departed and I exhorted them to repentanc manner that quite astonished myself. I proclaimed Jesus of Nazareth to be the Son of God, with power. not alone over disease and death, but over sin, the parent of both, as well. 1 ev erfed an old man, who, shaking with palsy, was supporting him- gelf by the aid of a staff. “Blessed be God that he hath revealed himself unto this wicked generation. I looked upon the speaker, whose mouth was so twisted and distorted by the dread disease that his words were scarcely dis- tinguishable, and a feeling of the deepest pity took possession of my soul. “What would'st thou?” I asked of him. “That 1 might shout the name of the Son of God until all men heard me and the valleys rang with the sound of my voice,” was his piping reply. As T looked again upon the old man, whose hair was white as the blossoms of an almond tree and whose tottering feet were surely near the verge of the grave, and saw the light of faith shining from his my heart went out to him as I knew that of the Master would in my place. S y here was a call for the ex- ercise of those powers with which I had been endowed. For a moment I bowed my head in prayer, asking divine assistance upon mys great undertaking. At that instant I real- ized that, though the mind, as Annas had sald. may be the orown of man, the heart is his salvation, for, while my lips softly framed the name of God, I felt the power and love of the Master present within me. “Re thou whole!” I cried, extenliing my hands. The bent form of the old man straight- ened, the distortion vassed instantly from his face. ‘With a hand that was far steadier than mine he held aloft the staff upon which he had so long leaned for support, then threw it upon the ground and began to leap lightly about, praising God snd his divine Son and calling, in clear and strong tones. upon all about to join with him. His example became con. tagious. for he was known to all and had been afflicted for nearly a score of yvears, many professing belief in the Messiah. In like manner. I healed several others who were afflicted with dis and then, accompanied by Thomas, arted with one of the chief men of the town, a deacon In the synagogue, who had invited us to his house. Never, while T live in this world—or in any other, I am prone to belfeve—will T forget the feelings that possessed me in that hour. No mortal, except from a like cause, was ever raised to such a state of ecstasy as I attained. T had become akin to the Master, for into my.hands had been committed some measure of that Almighty power that so completely per- vaded him. To check and turn back the course of disease, to change weakness into strength, to alter the established course of nature, to become an almoner of Goq and dispense unstinted gifts of love and mercy in his name—what greater bliss can fall to the lot of a mortal in this life. unless it be at the moment when, lfke John the Baptist, he leaves it in his ser. viea? How weak. how sophistical, how utterly imbecile became _at that suprem moment the polished argumenx;s n? rafty Annas. Where God and eternal life were concerned, how infinitely greater and better a crown is heart than brain, love than argument, spiiituality than mind? To all that are to live this marvelous power of mine will not be given, yet. T verlly belleve— and I |belleve that my judgment is now quickened by that same power.T am quite certain that each and all, in whatever age or clime, who open their hearts for admission of divinity will feel within them the presence of the Master. 85 inmistakeply, as miraculousiy. as did when I called upon God for po eal the palsied man. G ear Hazor I was suddenly and mo: forcibly reminded of my sonurn 'nmn?; Wide World. the Kingdom of Power. I was approaching the ancient city alone. bhaving separated from Th, the morning to meet him that er;-x:r;sng L’é Hazor. Day was well nigh departed when the road, which wound a often around precipices, r?nchefiw&itg::; of a growth of stunted oak trees. I had advanced but a few paces within the e harsh voice fast-gathering gldom when & 1 cumnfiunded me to halt. An instant later 1 was seized on either side and conduct- ed onward to the open country beyond Now, knave, thy purse!” cried a st ralking nervously to a man, who wa 1 fro in the narrow road. “We hnave time for par.ey, and it is beneath d@ignity to search prisoners.” b §1m§( turned robber asmn,'barabb.m 1 asked, recognizing speaker as ths man 1 had met in the company of Fla- vius Pollio at Jerusalem. ot so, Maste s, Where hast tho month that t leading an ins of Rome, and tk success? Robber is a robber who that he may maint rights ana ab sense I am suil a Master hifmseli sa worthy of Ius air Astonished bey ing, 1 couw.a only scoundrel. 1 nave taken thee than thou I rabbas. “I know lected a goodly recent travels, press purpose“of rather, 1 propes causge of thy count “Infamous wretch knowest whom [ ‘serve, @ me of money cor of God and humaniiy. “Not so,” returned the now smiling vil- latn, who was ‘evidently minded to tan- he responde: of speak- audacious ute *“‘thou nd wouldst rob to the cause talize me after t at a_cat plays with a captive hy Mas- ter and myself both in the same cause and for the same end; he prays and preaches, whilst 1 finesse and fight, but we are none the less co-partners in a movement to set Israel free. Come, thy purse.” “Knowest mot that thou are gullty of blasphemy, art robbing the Most High? cried, at the same time obeying ki command. ‘“The people shall hear of this outrage, and will avenge the. insult upon thee.” “The people? he weighed my pun “Thinkest thou that ople prefer poverty and submission with the Jes! Who preaches their merits to wealth an freedom with that Jesus who would de- liver them from bondage? Thou, who but now showed thy hatred of riches by clinging to this paltry purse until thy life was in danger, dost well to prate of poverty and the people. Mark this, Judas of Kerioth: Should the time eyer come when these same people are called upon to choose between Jesus the prophet and Jesus the patriot they will declars for the latter. Go now thy way and re- port that thy money hathk been diverted to the militant arm of the movement for Jewish liberation.” ‘“Whom have we here? ed the outlaw, as sneer: in his i d. By Caesar's cloven-footed horse, ’tis Iscariot! How art thou, friend Judas In the act of leaving the spot, I was seized in the arms of Flayius Pollio, who embraced me as though I were his long- lost_brother. “What is wrong?’ he asked, taking a backward step and surveying me curi- ously. ‘“Not so much as a smile after our long separation? Have these varlets of niine dared to offend thee, tho old- time friend and benefactor? If they have I'll send them to d the fishes iu Lake Galilee.” “This man, bas, “hath mine own; a s: the cause of of the poor.” z “Return it to him, I pray thee” =: Polilo to the robber chief when he had drawn him a_little apart but speaking 50 excitedly that his words were readily audible to me. I did not though protest. d 1, indicating Barab- Tom me money not red fund contributed for my Master and the relief repli take hear Barabbas' answer, gesture indicated Indignan: “But "twill bring disaster,” insisted Pol- told lo. “Have I not more than once thee how the money I won and stole him brought Tantalus in wake? grand fora ve planned will g a failure, less thou retu Again Barabbas s that his words did nc ““Thou temptest oint,” cried Pollio in manifest anger, will not yield. I, who was a Roman g tleman when thou wert a common cut- purse, will not be dictated to by And yet I might win, in which eve would return the momey to Judas and pay the men their portion out of mine own purse. I'll do it, Jesus; I've not tried a throw to-day." ‘With this he produced a dice-box, and the two were scon upon their knees in the road, throwing for my purse, which lay beside them. The game, which was liberally larded wtih savage oaths, came to & speedy end and left Pollio scowling, vhile his antagonist smiled as only a winner at dice can. “Forgive me, ariot,” cried the for- mer, as he ran forward and seized me by the hand. [hou seest what has be- fallen me for com ing and di 1 have di spoiled.” Serious as were my thoughts I could help smiling at these words, which gested my past hard experience with now virtuously indignant speaker. “The money was a sacred trust. Thou canst make restoration if thou wilt,” said 1, pointing to the well-filled purse that hung in his girdle. ‘That 1 will, and most ed the gambler; ‘“but not of Barabbas; ‘twould laugh at my weakness. Pass on toward the city. I will join thee soon at the foot of the hill and make restoration to the last sestertil.” Glad to be gone on any terms, I hur- ried from the spot. In thbe valley below I paused and looked back. The robbers, who numbered, all told, nearly a score, were retreating along a terrace, above and beyond where I had laft them. Dusk was falling, but I still managed to recog- nize Flavius Pollio in the foremost man, and, with a sad smile, resumed my walk toward Hazor. A few d later we reached Caper- naum, whither we found the other apos- tles had arrived before us. The Lord recelved us most graciously and listened with manifest pleasure to our report, commending. all we had dome. I part- ed with Thomas at the door of the Mas- ter's house and set out for my home, walking southward along the beautiful shore of the lake. At no great distance from the city I encountered Peter and Andrew, with the two sons of Zebedee, ing with a grasp- onorable man. Sooner WDqu d than had my friend de- ladly,” rejoin- n the presence cause him to none of whom I had met since my return. They We!’gl mending their nets and calking their boats as prep- arations to go fishing. They all gros me pleasantly and we wers all seon en- gaged in exchanging experiences. "Didst collect any money during thy travels?” asked John, as I was making reffiy‘to depart. ‘A’ large amount,” I repli was rovbed at Hasor and heve offerings made since then.” I noted that some of my compantons ex- changed looks of incredulity, while a smile thed the lips of John. How befell it?" asked Simon Peter, in his usually gruff though not unkin tones. h(o“rm‘uing the dg{a!ls!as to_Poilio, I told ow I h een despoiled of my purse b Barabbas. \ 9 e by “And the wretch dared to compare self with our Master?" eried Peter, great indignation. “That was worse taking thy purse.” the two of about equal d Andrew, making no effort :0 1ceal a sneer. “The story must be told to Matthew suggested James. “The memoirs he hath begun to write will Scarge be c 8 without it Burning with rage and indig: turned upon my sarcastic ac about to retort in kind, w vision, T seemed to see the lov rowful face of the Master, look ingly, reproachfully, upon me, and w mighty effort, I kept back the wor t ros2 to my lips, set hard my t g walked away. “I hear that thes for sale near thy called after me. * Vi hough I only the e is a plece of d ouse at Hutta > t would be a s - tment for thy savings.” hou canst sell it for a good pr W thou returnest to thy fine T Judea,” added James. 'Twill e to go traveling again and gain r ey among the Gentiles.” A vear ago. I would have t fought my false accusers had ten instead of four to ome cost me the effort of my life quietly away, and nothing, 1 sure, less than the presence in of the grace of the Christ, e do so. I have been now a week at ! time I have largely employed this continuation of my stra Very early this morning I w \per= naum and met the Master was ree turning from the flelds, whith usually 8oes for praver. “I am becoming a hindran to_ ¢ cause,” sald I, almost tearfully. “and wi £00n become hated of all thy disciples. T pray thee, let me leave thee and depart out of Galilee,”