A PARADISE DISCOVERED
“True love’s the gift which God has given
To man alone beneath the heaven;
It is not fantasy’s hot fire,
Whose wishes soon as granted fly;
It liveth not in fierce desire,
With dead desire it doth not die;
It is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie,
Which heart to heart, and mind to mind,
In body and in soul can bind.”
On the third day after the rescue of Rebecca she had recovered her wonted
health and strength. Benoni, visiting her on the previous afternoon,
fondly hoped that she might return with him, but upon the cordial
invitation of her benefactors, consented that she should remain a little
longer. Her interest in the New Faith grew apace, and her love and respect
for its two young exponents were unbounded. The rapidity of her
restoration appeared miraculous to all who understood not the signs which
outwardly witnessed the new spiritual Power. The nurses which Marcius
provided were not needed, and the physician made but the visit of the
first day.
Since the day when he snatched her from the jaws of death, Marcius had not
seen Rebecca, but manifested his interest by frequent inquiries concerning
her welfare. Some part of each day he sought the company of Serenus, and
his interest in their conversation, and regard for what he called the new
Spiritual Philosophy, steadily increased. On the third evening, learning
of Rebecca’s virtual recovery, he expressed the earnest wish that she,
with Serenus and Amabel, should sup with him upon the evening following.
It would be a quiet but fitting celebration of her notable recovery.
Upon being informed by Serenus of the proffered honor, she would have
pleaded some excuse, but feeling a great obligation to her kind host, and
also that it would please her guardian angels of the New Faith, she
accepted the invitation. Through the kindness of Serenus she was supplied
from her home with everything that was fitting for her appearance at the
festivity, so that with the delicate discrimination and assistance of
Amabel she lacked nothing.
The evening came, and Rebecca’s fair face, though slightly paler than
usual, was charming to behold. With features of rare symmetry, and
complexion of a delicate brunette, her skin was of such transparency that
the ruddiness beneath it clearly shone through. Her head, classic in shape
and slightly below the average size, was set upon a neck and shoulders
well turned, and graceful in pose and shapeliness. Her jet black hair was
lightly gathered up under a cap of silken gauze with a dainty embroidery
of golden threads, and a network of delicate chains adorned with small
precious stones encircled her neck. She wore simple but rich flowing
robes, in harmony with her faultless form, compelling attention not to
detail, but to general completeness and proportion.
Who can estimate the refining and elevating influence of true and ideal
beauty? No symmetrical soul can fail to be thrilled by its quality, and
the admiration bestowed upon it is repaid by a reflection of its
transforming potency. Everything, whether beautiful or otherwise, is ever
busy in the subtle moulding of living and impressible forms around it into
its own image. The lesson of Pygmalion and his fair creation symbolizes
the poetic and artistic truth of a vital and universal principle.
But the outward form and costume of Rebecca were the unimportant elements
of her charming presence. The purity and artlessness of soul shining
through the visible personality formed the real attractiveness of the
daughter of Benoni. The costume, and even the beautiful form, were simple
accessories, like the external setting of a gem.
As the hour of the repast drew near, the trio wended their way through a
long corridor, paved with mosaic, then, passing two portals, entered the
atrium or front court of the palace. Here Marcius would receive them. The
entrances to the various rooms, with their walks, alcoves, and stairways,
extended around on three sides, while on the fourth, beyond a massive wall
of marble, were the palace gardens, containing flower‐beds, shrubberies,
fountains, and statues, with here and there a spreading plane, fig, or
palm tree.
The court opened to the blue sky above, except a space covered by a large
velarium, which was spread as a shelter from the rays of the sun during
the afternoon. The impluvium, or rain‐water tank, guarded by rails of
polished metal, received its contents through grotesque gargoyles of the
same material, and near by a fountain poured forth a volume of spray into
a huge round marble basin, surrounded with anemones and lilies. The
pavement of the atrium was of white and dark red marbles in handsome
design, and the walls decorated with carved panels, upon which were
representations of fantastic birds, griffins, fauns, and centaurs. Along
the sides a continuous divan or resting‐place was supplied with soft,
movable cushions, and stools in front.
Marcius appeared soon after the announcement of their arrival. After a
simple introduction, he gave Rebecca a cordial greeting,—
“I give thee welcome, and have pleasure in thy speedy restoration.”
Rebecca glanced timidly up into the face of the Roman, half expecting that
the dark, stern visage of perfidious memory would be disturbing beyond
control, so that her agitation would be evident. She had forgotten for the
moment that the former Marcius was no more, and that this was another.
Though the general contour of form and feature was recalled, the hard
lines of brutality and sensuality had disappeared, while those of a manly
and kindly dignity had taken their place. There was a sympathetic light in
his eyes, a calm nobility of demeanor, and a respectful and delicate
consideration which were delightful and unexpected. Even the voice of
well‐remembered harshness was rich, amiable, and friendly.
Rebecca was so astonished at the completeness of the change that a well‐
defined flush upon her cheeks heightened the charm of her appearance. The
severe ordeal which she had consented to undergo from force of
circumstances, and out of consideration for Serenus and Amabel, suddenly
lost its unpleasantness, and composure and self‐command were immediately
regained.
She responded to the hearty greeting, and in a manner of quiet dignity
expressed a cordial thankfulness for his kindness in her timely rescue and
generous hospitality.
Pending the announcement of the serving of the supper, they seated
themselves for a brief converse in the court. Marcius continued to address
Rebecca.
“As a Roman citizen, and especially as Vice Legate of Tarsus, I have much
shame at the cruel persecution which so suddenly broke out against thy
people. It was unforeseen, and care shall be taken that the offence hath
no repetition. But I have a peculiar gladness that my brother Serenus and
I were able to render thee aid in the time of need. But verily it is to
him that the praise is meet. But for his presence and teaching I should
have been elsewhere.”
“Behold, my lord Marcius, he abounded with noble deeds while in Jerusalem.
I could tell thee much concerning certain things that happened there
during my sojourn.”
Serenus interposed,—
“I beseech you, my friends, bestow no undue praise; for if any good cometh
through my hand, it is not I, but the Spirit of Truth which worketh
through me.”
Amabel turned her eyes lovingly upon her husband, and said,—
“Behold I have learned that when the Spirit of Truth taketh possession of
a soul it becometh one with him, so that they are no longer twain! The New
Faith, which is the awakening of the Spirit already within, cometh into
manifestation in the deeds performed.”
Serenus gave her an approving smile. “Thou hast spoken wisely. The inner
or spiritual self is the veritable man, and he waiteth for the
comprehension of the divine sonship.”
“I perceive that the sensuous or flesh‐man is not truly man at all,” said
Marcius. “How all the so‐called philosophies of the world have erred! Doth
it not seem marvellous that I, a Roman, have so soon become convinced of
the truth and beauty of the New Faith? At times I feel doubtful of my
identity, and wonder if I am myself!”
“Thou wert not changed by the logic and reasoning of the intellect,” said
Serenus, “for a religious belief from without is slow and uncertain in its
operation. But when there was commended to thee the natural outworking of
the Godlike image within, anon thou felt the New Faith living in thy
heart, and needed not an argument, after the manner of men.”
Rebecca, turning towards Serenus, and recalling their conversation in the
Holy City, observed,—
“Verily, I believe that from my early youth I have felt some quickening of
the Spirit in the depths of my heart, but knew not what it might be. Being
taught that the faith of the Chosen People was handed down from without,
its ceremonial formality smothered the inner flame. But the touch of thy
faith, which thou gavest me on the day of the mad rush in the Temple
court, kindled a new life of which I had but a dim perception before. And
now, behold since I have been with Amabel, it hath waxed stronger!”
“I am moved to confess,” said Marcius, “that I loathed the manner of my
early life even before I knew Serenus and the New Faith. Once I heard a
voice from beyond the borders of the grave which rebuked me, and showed
plainly the life of the unseen, and that virtue hath its reward, and vice
its natural penalty. Then I became thoughtful, and repented of many of my
evil deeds. But yet I remained long in the ignorance or twilight of Truth,
until the sunlight of the New Faith, which hath come to me through
Serenus, quickly dispelled the darkness that surrounded me. This not so
much by his words of teaching, as by the contagion of the Spirit that
filleth him.”
A summons came from the triclinium, and Marcius arose to conduct them
thither. Being the guest of honor, Rebecca was invited to lead the way
with the host, and they started, side by side, through a spacious
corridor.
“Pardon me, if I confess that thy fair face calleth up some dim fancy of
the past. How deceitful is the imagination, and how confusing!”
The heart of Rebecca gave a great leap, but she maintained the outward
semblance of calmness.
“Of all our faculties perhaps it is the most commonly undisciplined,” she
replied; “but, perchance we may tame and cultivate it, and increase its
usefulness.”
“Thou speakest discreetly. Our new philosophy showeth that when rightly
employed everything is helpful, which must include even the imagination.”
“Yea, I am learning to see the good whichever way I turn. What a joy to
live in a world where we can embellish every person and thing with our
divine thought concerning them!”
When unobserved, Marcius cast another quick, tender glance upon the face
of Rebecca, and finally dismissed all impression of any possible past
meeting. Nothing could be more improbable.
In its place came a peculiar enchantment. Such a revelation of her beauty
burst forth in his soul that it filled him with surprise and delight. But
though her comeliness of person was fascinating, this was unimportant and
superficial. An adoration, and even reverence, filled him, which were
without alloy. His high station had brought before him many proud and
beautiful women of his own nation, who were refined and attractive, but
this modest Hebrew maiden almost seemed to belong to another planet. His
soul was uplifted in a transport of delight. Every step by her side gave
him the feeling that he was upon consecrated ground.
These thoughts and experiences flashed through his mind with the force and
rapidity of a tropical tempest.
He stepped over a boundary line into a delectable land almost before he
was aware of it. The paradise discovered was Love. Such a love he had
never before known. Devotion of a depth and power of which he would have
been utterly incapable at any previous time sprung up within him. What was
rank, position, wealth, or even outward grace! His soul arose from its
former state to the full adoration of neighboring soul‐beauty. Until now
he never had known the nature of real love.
As they passed through the last portal into the triclinium, Marcius was
strangely silent and abstracted. The world had been made over, and all
things were new since leaving the atrium a few minutes before.
The repast, though perfect in quality, was simple rather than
ostentatious. Marcius, with a fine instinct, had already learned, and even
felt, that the exponents of the New Faith, while thoroughly appreciative
of beauty, were quiet in their tastes, and carried their moderation into
all things.
There was a profusion of flowers, and an abundance of handsome
appointments, but no lares or penates upon the table, neither were any
libations poured to the gods. But when all had reclined in their places,
there was a brief interval of silent thanks and aspiration with bowed
heads, which was spontaneous rather than formal. The supper was not a
feast so much as an occasion of friendly and joyful converse, serving as a
pleasant recognition of Rebecca’s escape and recovery.
Marcius, whose enthusiasm for the new light which so signally had come to
him was unwearied, soon desired to resume the discussion which they had
begun in the atrium.
“While I joy in the power of the truth that thrills me through and
through, there are certain things of which I fain would make further
inquiry,” said he to Serenus.
“I too would gladly receive further witness of the truth,” said Rebecca.
“Behold one is straitened to set forth the doctrine of the Spirit in the
language of men,” said Serenus. “It is a hidden life, and being veiled,
only can be made known through parables and symbols. It dwelleth in the
heart too deep for the persuasiveness of speech.”
“How unlike the learning of the schools!” said Marcius.
“Yea; words and writings which concern the bodily sensations of men, and
the things that are without and seen, are multiplied, while the things of
the spirit are silently digged out of the depths of the soul.”
“After what manner was the teaching of the great prophet of Nazareth?”
“Through symbols and parables! Nay, even more through his life and
example, and by means of the outward signs, ministries, and miracles which
witnessed the divinity that was within him.”
“Have all men the same divinity?”
“All in their real being are sons of God, but being ignorant of their
sonship, have not unfolded it into outward manifestation. It is like a
seed, containing life, but not yet quickened into outward form and
fruitfulness. Man is only perfected as man, in the degree that he
expresses God.”
“Why are men so slow in their progress upward?”
“Chiefly because they think themselves to be bodies rather than what they
really are,—spirits having present bodily articulation.”
“In other words, thou wouldst say, that having only a fleshly
consciousness, they perform the works of the flesh, ignorant of the spirit
or real self which hath not yet received a quickening.”
“Thou hast spoken it plainly. The works of the flesh are mischievous,
selfish, hateful, and corrupting, while those of the Spirit are peace,
joy, love, and purity. So long as men think themselves carnal in their
being, the corresponding works will follow. Every kind of thought and
belief bringeth forth a harvest of its own kind.”
“If I rightly apprehend,” said Marcius, “thou dost not set forth that the
body is evil in itself?”
“Nay! the body, as the temple and expression of the Spirit, is an holy
building, sanctified and honorable. But to be after that manner it must be
man’s servant, and not his master. It may render a delightful service, or
be a deadly tyrant! Shall the clay rule the potter?”
“Whence come its weaknesses and sicknesses?”
“From the prevailing bodily consciousness which giveth man the feeling
that he must perish. He is therefore filled with thoughts, fears, and
beliefs of ill which bring forth a universal fruitage of their own kind.
Man therefore bows himself in servitude to these, his own creations, and
ignorantly thinketh that they are sent by God.”
“How are they to be put away?”
“By thinking upon the things that pertain to the spiritual selfhood, and
consciously ruling and harmonizing the bodily instrument. The body is a
living epistle, setting forth the quality of the life, mind, and soul, of
which it is the visible result and correspondence. It is the spoken word
of the thought of man!”
“Wilt thou interpret to us a miracle?” said Rebecca, who had followed
every word of the conversation with great interest.
“A miracle is a name which men give to any unwonted demonstration of power
which is above and beyond their common understanding. Miracles may be
wrought as signs of spiritual verity, or exercised in works of love and
mercy.”
“Do they require the special and direct intervention of the one and
supreme God of all the earth?” inquired Marcius.
“Nay; but rather an intelligent conformity to his wise and unchanging
laws, only the lower domain of which is commonly understood.”
“We believe that thou canst perform works which to the eyes of the world
would seem miraculous!” said Marcius with fulness of heart.
Rebecca’s eyes were moist with emotion, and her features lighted up with
grateful interest as she added,—
“I am persuaded that Serenus and Amabel can do wonderful works! Of a
surety many weeks would have passed before my perfect healing had not
their ministry blessed me.”
“In proportion to the measure of faith and wisdom which one can bring into
exercise, he can perform the works. They who make themselves fit channels
for the universal and abounding Life to flow through, will be meet to
minister effectually to the ills of the souls and bodies of men. Until the
time cometh when each can fully work out his own salvation, it behooveth
us to strengthen the weak, raise the fallen, and heal the sick, as we have
opportunity. We must needs beware of thinking any manner of evil, for
ourselves or others, whether pertaining to soul or body.”
“Why hath not the New Faith spread more rapidly, since it was proclaimed
in its purity by the prophet of Nazareth?” said Marcius. “It would appear
that such a gospel would be received everywhere!”
“The world is not yet ready to discover the beauty and power of a
spiritual faith. Religion, to the Roman, Greek, Hebrew, or barbarian, doth
not signify a new and richer life, but some system, ceremony, sacrifice,
or oblation. These have little moulding power, and have to do with the
outer rather than the inner man. Religions of belief and tradition are
many, but of the Spirit there is but one.”
“Cometh not such systems from the darkened and vain beliefs concerning God
or the gods?” said Rebecca.
“Yea, verily! Both the Elohim and Yehovah of the Hebrews, and the many
gods of other nations, have been invested with human passions, so that
they must needs be appeased or propitiated. Thence cometh the universal
dread and fear of an All‐Powerful One, and the innumerable expiations,
atonements, rites, oblations, and libations, so that peradventure some
favors might be vouchsafed by a Deity or deities whose ruling disposition
is that of anger. Men are not drawn by their fears, but through their
loves. As the Omnipresent Love—the true God—cometh into recognition, the
hearts of all will melt into oneness with him, and the children of men be
lifted out of their fears, sorrows, sins, and sicknesses.”
“How plain; and yet how men are blinded to this great principle!” said
Marcius. “My former life seemeth like a delusive dream, in that I have not
before been awakened to the truth. I see that as man’s concept of God
becometh purified, he is gradually transformed into his image.”
“Thou hast well described the very corner‐stone of the divine life and
perfection of man. To securely lay this was the work of the Man of
Galilee. But verily the spirit of his advent hath been commonly darkened,
not only by his enemies, but by many of his avowed followers.”
“How long, thinkest thou, O Serenus, will evil prevail on the earth?”
“Behold no evil ruleth the earth, for that which so appeareth is but the
early, imperfect, and unripened Good. Only the eye of the impure can
behold the impure. God is too pure to behold iniquity, for all things are
working out, in due time, the universal Perfection. To our dim vision it
seemeth slow, but time is but a sensuous limitation. All things, whether
in heaven, earth, or hades, are working together, yea, are in travail, for
the manifestation of the sons of God.”
“What is the teaching of the New Faith concerning life beyond the grave?”
inquired Rebecca.
“There is but one life, and man never enters the grave. All the false
traditions and beliefs concerning it have come from the carnal or fleshly
slavery into which men have sold themselves. The earth taketh back to its
bosom the handful of dust which man hath gathered to himself for a brief
season. He tests his soul upon it, and it outwardly marks his own and the
general belief touching it. We cast off coarse and worn‐out garments for
those of finer and richer texture.”
“Dost thou believe that the more subtile or ethereal body is already
enclosed within the seen form?”
“I am so persuaded. But in the fulness of time the grave will be closed,
and man will walk forth in freedom. Then will he gain such a spiritual
consciousness as to be able, little by little, to transmute and refine his
crude visibility into a finer and more enduring organism. That which is
called death then will have served its purpose.”
“Thou hast made us glad by thy words of wisdom,” said Rebecca. “We fain
will let this light shine in the darkness which surrounds us, dividing the
word of Truth discreetly among those who are open to receive it.”
“Yea,” said Marcius; “we can speak effectually through our lives and
deeds, and also by word of teaching wherever there is an open door.”
The repast was concluded, and the guests separated.
“What an evening of gladness!” said Amabel. “Art thou not pleased, dear
Rebecca, that we were bidden?”
“I have had unwonted joy and profit in the friendly converse and warm
hospitality. What a noble Roman is Marcius! his whole heart seems filled
with the New Faith!”
“Yea,” said Serenus. “The seed of the Word hath sprung up quickly within
him because he was in readiness. Men everywhere hunger for the simple
bread of life, but how often stones are set before them!”
Marcius retired to his cubiculum, but slumber refused to be wooed by his
eyelids. Whether in the light or darkness, the pure, beautiful face of
Rebecca stood out before him. To him she was a saint,—a fitting embodiment
of a seraphic spirit in womanly form. His mind was filled with a rushing
procession of unwonted thoughts,—
“Blessed be the New Faith, which not only hath healed the restlessness of
my former state, but yielded this vision of beauty! Blessed be Serenus!
and blessed above all be the God of all the earth!
“Can she ever love me, who am but the remnant of a wasted life? Nay, not
so! Serenus says we have divinity within us, and the destiny of sons of
God! What an inspiration! I knew not what I was, but now have found
myself!
“Can I presume to win such a love as that of Rebecca? Peradventure, it
hath been bestowed upon one of her own nation!
“Behold the wonder of Tarsus should the Vice Legate wed a Hebrew! A
deposition from Cæsar! The contempt of the city! I care not! My life I
give to the New Faith!
“Again that vision of loveliness cometh over me! Never before have I known
love, but only its semblance! Naught but the New Faith could reveal and
interpret its bliss!”
When Marcius finally resigned himself to the wooing of Morpheus, his
visions were paradisiacal, beatific, elysian.
* * * * * * * * * *
A few evenings later Leander called his trusted slave Metopus to his
presence.
“Dost thou know well Colurus, a servitor in the palace of Marcius?”
“I have known him long, my lord!”
“Thinkest thou that he regardeth gold?”
“I doubt it not, my lord! Its glitter dazzles his eyes!”
“Thy loyalty I know to be steadfast, Metopus. I have a secret errand. Dost
thou sometimes meet Colurus?”
“We shall meet to‐night at the games. What wouldst thou?”
Leander drew from beneath the fold of his tunic the small shining phial
containing the potion, and also a purse of gold.
“I would have this potion administered to the Vice Legate! It hath no
taste nor smell, and may be mixed in any of his drinks without suspicion.”
Metopus gave a knowing wink to his master.
“And will he fall down when he hath swallowed it? Perchance our footprints
could not be covered!”
“Ha! thou sayest well, but I am no fool!”
“Nay, I have served thee too long not to know thy wisdom!”
“Its power worketh very slowly, so that no consequence can ever be
discovered.”
“Not only a poet and an orator, my master, but a veritable wonder‐worker!”
“Spare thy applause for this time, Metopus! I say to thee that a slow
decline, which cometh only with months and years, seemeth natural.”
“I understand.”
“Give the gold and the potion to Colurus, and swear, by the visage of
Apollo, that no harm will ever be traceable! Nay, tell any story that
seemeth expedient, for thou art cunning!”
The plot was carried out in every detail.
Time rolled on. The disciples of the New Faith increased in number, and
ere long included the father and mother of Rebecca. Their meetings were
frequent, and though held quietly, were without special secrecy. They
usually assembled at the rooms of Serenus, but sometimes at the residence
of Benoni.