ONCE MORE UPON THE CYDNUS
“Rivers are highways that move on, and bear us whither we wish
to go.”
A few days after the evening excursion of Marcius to the Temple, a little
party emerged from the house of Benoni into the spacious grounds which
overlooked the Cydnus. It was soon after mid‐day. Though the sun shone
brightly, a refreshing breeze down the valley from the Taurus mountains
made the afternoon balmy and delightful. The cool waters of the river
hurried quietly past, while the sunshine caused the ripple which danced
upon its surface to gleam like molten gold.
The river barge of Marcius, called the Felicia, well manned by stalwart
oarsmen, waiting at Benoni’s landing by the foot of the terraces, presaged
an excursion. The group lingered a little, and loitered through the
grounds to enjoy the clusters of spice‐trees, roses, oleanders, and
jasmine which bordered the winding paths that sloped to the water’s edge.
Looking up the river, the thick fringes of shrubs and trees which lined
its banks could be followed by the eye, capriciously zigzag in their
course, narrowing in the dim distance almost to a thread when traced
toward the mountain wall of the northern horizon. The distant lofty range
stood out in calm, serene beauty, its summits softened by light scattered
foliage, and kissed by the rays of the afternoon sun.
The band of the New Faith in Tarsus had added many to its numbers through
the labors of Serenus. Seconded by Amabel, and aided by Benoni, Rebecca,
and Marcius, he was untiring in his work to kindle the higher life in the
souls who were willing to listen, and the synagogue soon became divided
between those who were bound by dead forms, and the converts to a living
spirituality. Works of mercy, ministry, and healing abounded, and faith,
love, and service were multiplied. Such a joy lighted up the faces of the
disciples that they became familiarly known among the Tarsians as the
“happy brotherhood.” Although the Pharisaic members of the synagogue were
censorious toward them, they suffered no persecution.
An excursion up the river had been planned by Marcius, both for the
enjoyment of the charming scenery, and the opportunity for delightful
communion and intercourse which come from the society of kindred souls
possessing a common interest and aim.
Besides the family of Benoni, and Serenus and Amabel, Marcius had invited
several other friends to join the company, and they gathered at Benoni’s
house at the appointed hour in readiness for the start. After a ramble in
the garden, they passed down to the landing to embark. Some were already
on the barge, when suddenly the sound of rapid footsteps was heard, and a
young man appeared, hastening to reach them before their departure.
It was Saulus!
His father, mother, and Rebecca were the last of the party, and not yet on
board.
Each was successively wrapped in his loving embrace, and tears of joy
witnessed the warmth of their reunion.
“O Saulus, thou must go with us on the excursion!” said Rebecca, as soon
as the first greetings were over. “Serenus and Amabel, also Marcius, of
whom I have written thee, are already on the barge!”
“Serenus on board! I will go! I long to greet him!”
Soon all were upon the deck of the Felicia, and at a given signal the
twenty oars on each side took the water as if by one impulse, and the
graceful barge glided out upon the bosom of the Cydnus.
Rebecca presented Saulus to Marcius, who received him warmly, and then
they sought Serenus and Amabel.
Saulus and Serenus were soon clasped in each other’s arms.
“O Serenus! my friend, brother, and saviour! Words fail me! To thee, whom
I once counted as my enemy, I owe my life and my salvation. Blessed be
these eyes that behold thee, and these ears that hear thy voice!”
“And thou, Amabel! who by my command wast taken to the cruel prison!
Sister of the New Faith! I need not even ask thy forgiveness, for I am
persuaded that thou hast bestowed it long ago. What a joy to forgive and
be forgiven! Rebecca hath written the good tidings to me.”
The Felicia was headed up stream, but despite the strong current she shot
rapidly along. The roofs and towers of the city gradually receded, and
pastoral voices and charms grew more distinct and prevailing. Delicious
exhalations were wafted out from the leaves and blossoms of spicy shrubs
on either hand, and their graceful forms were duplicated in trembling
shadows in the clear water beneath. Nature furnished a perfect environment
of peace and beauty, inspiring in the souls of all a revery of silent
homage to the Word which she articulated and out‐pictured.
Serenus and Saulus sat down side by side, and all visions of the troubled
past melted away in their present friendliness and rejoicing. Saulus
rehearsed to the group which gathered about him a full narrative of his
thrilling experiences in Damascus, his life and retirement in the Desert,
and his trials in Jerusalem.
Though an intensity of brotherly love, like that of “David and Jonathan,”
immediately sprung up between Serenus and Saulus, it must not be supposed
that they were alike, or thought alike. It is often assumed that those who
differ in natural endowment and personal opinion must in some measure be
separated in sympathy and interest. Not so. The zealous impetuosity of
Saulus was in strong contrast with the serenity and evenness of his
friend. They were utterly dissimilar in looks, temperament, and manner of
thinking. One might be compared to a dashing, foaming cataract, the other
to a still, deep river. But their very unlikeness stimulated their
affection.
Every unit is composed of unlike elements, and every truth has its widely
varying aspects. It might therefore be expected that in their efforts to
spread the New Faith, the methods of these two leaders would be unlike.
Still more, the emphasis which each would place upon all but the most
vital and central principles would be greatly variant.
“Hath any persecution been meted out to the disciples of the New Faith in
Tarsus?” inquired Saulus.
“Nay; we have not been molested. The Tarsians have little concern either
for or against our religion, and our brethren of the synagogue, while
counting us as heretics and manifesting some bitterness of spirit, have
done us no harm.”
“How unlike Damascus and Jerusalem! Behold in those cities all our
exhortations in the name of Jesus of Nazareth filled the multitudes with
jealousy, which brought forth persecution and even scourging.”
“The minds and hearts of men are not speedily changed,” replied Serenus.
“Dost thou think it strange, O my brother! that those men are moved by the
same reasoning that, in time gone by, moved thee to persecute, thinking
that thereby thou wert doing God service? It is no easy thing to give
righteous judgment concerning the actions of men, unless peradventure we
have regard unto their ignorance, and all their past manner of thinking.”
“Thou sayest truly that I ought not to think it strange that others of the
Circumcision persecute, even as I did, being of like mind; but I pray
thee, how is the gospel of the New Faith to be established unless it be
boldly proclaimed, whether men hear or forbear?”
“I am minded with thee, O Saulus! that the proclamation of Truth be
fearlessly put forth, but it must be with forbearance and in love. Behold
the still, small voice of the Spirit of Truth findeth a hearing in the
affections of men whose ears are closed to argument and controversy. If
the seed be cast gently into ground that is well prepared by the mellowing
of love, and watered by the ministry of reconciliation, it will spring up,
and in due season the blade will appear, and finally the full corn in the
ear.”
“Thou speakest wisely, O Serenus! for only thy winning and unresistant
spirit awakened a response in my own heart, that in due time overcame me,
and turned my feet from the path of error and destruction. I am also
minded that thy works in Tarsus are far more abundant than my vehement
logic could have established had I been in thy place. Lo, from thy youth
up thou hadst a gentleness of spirit, which I, even since my change of
heart, greatly lack.”
Serenus turned lovingly toward Saulus, and taking him by the hand,
replied,—
“I beseech thee, my brother, have in mind the abundant power which thou
hast, and not the thing which perchance thou lackest. It is well that we
have differing talents and gifts. Thou canst not perform my work, nor I
thine, but there is a harvest ripening for each of us. In the earthly
vineyard of God the shoulders of every laborer are justly fitted to the
burden which is appointed for him to bear. But of a verity there are no
burdens, for they are changed to privileges.”
“Thy words reconcile me to my chosen work, and even to my inner
hindrances. I perceive that through spiritual exercise even our
shortcomings minister to advancement in the higher life.”
Tarsus had faded from view, and save the rhythmic plash of the oars no
sound was audible but the hum of quiet converse among the scattered groups
upon the deck of the Felicia.
After listening with interest to the conversation between Serenus and
Saulus, Marcius invited Rebecca’s attention to the grandeur of the
mountains now nearing as they ascended the river, and soon the twain
leisurely seated themselves in a retired nook near the bow of the boat.
The charm of the crystal Cydnus burnished by the rays of the sun, its
fringed and swiftly passing banks, and the reposefulness of the broad,
outlying landscape, combined to make the whole scene masterful.
“How beautiful the world is!” said Rebecca.
“Yea,” said Marcius. “Under the inspiration of the New Faith the mountains
are temples, and the rocks and trees sacred altars which enshrine the
divine beauty and radiance.”
“A beautiful metaphor! I feel that Nature is soulful and companionable.
The cold, mechanical forms of institutions, and the hollow ceremonies in
temples made with hands, harden the mind and fetter its freedom. As our
souls are illumined, Nature becomes a Revelation—a spoken Word—transparent
to the Divine Spirit which shines through it.”
Marcius was charmed by Rebecca’s poetic consecration, and added,—
“Yea; Serenus teacheth even a threefold Revelation: that which shineth
through the veil of the outer world; that manifested through men—sons of
God—of whom Jesus was the perfected measure; and that by the ever‐present
Spirit, which is the Companion and Teacher.”
“How clearly the eyes of Serenus are open to the light and truth of the
world!”
“It is a marvel!” said Marcius with earnestness. “Blessed be the hour when
first I beheld him! Behold how great good cometh out of evil! The sinking
of the Salapiæ hath yielded a great blessing to Tarsus.”
“My life in the Holy City and since hath persuaded me that infinite forces
work with us when we work through them,” said Rebecca with enthusiasm.
“Nothing is trifling, and nothing unimportant.”
Marcius felt that the moment had arrived toward which he had so long
looked forward as the most eventful of his life.
“O Rebecca!” said he in a low, tender tone, as his eyes glanced upon her
fair face, “I am minded of another great blessing to me which hath grown
out of evil!”
The living emphasis of the soft, earnest words seemed peculiar, and
Rebecca looked up inquiringly, as if to divine their interpretation.
“Behold the day of the tumult, when thou wert hard pressed by the rabble!
What a wicked offence, and yet from it hath come to me a revelation of thy
beautiful soul.”
Rebecca was startled, for there was an intensity behind the words which
swept her spirit into unwonted vibration.
“O Rebecca! I would more fully unveil my heart to thee! Blessed be the day
when for the first time I beheld thy sweet face, and thrice blessed the
time in which I have felt thy goodness and purity! I love thee! Thy father
hath graciously yielded me permission to make my love known to thee. Oh,
wilt thou not be the soul of my soul? The New Faith will consecrate our
love, and make us one in the bonds of a union that shall be unending.
Should there be no certain response in thy heart at this hour, I will not
press thee for an answer now. But thou art the pure shrine at which my
devotion will glow with an unending ardor!”
While the calm dignity of Rebecca did not forsake her the beautiful cheeks
took on a ruddier shade, and her large, radiant eyes were downcast and
bedewed.
Then, looking steadily into his manly face, she replied softly,—
“Hast thou thought carefully of this? Thou art the Roman Vice Legate of
Tarsus, and I but an humble maid of the Hebrews!”
“Rebecca, I have pondered it day and night! Never in my earlier days did I
know there could be such love! But I feel myself to be another man—a new
man—or I would be unspeakably unworthy of thee. I am yet unworthy, but I
offer thee the homage of a heart, purified I trust, by the higher life,
and softened by the effulgence of thine own goodness.”
There was a long silence, made more intense by the rapid beating of two
hearts.
A smile upon her lips, and the dropping of a tear which would not stay
back, gave him hope.
Unspeakable repose filled their souls.
_PART THIRD_
AFTER THE FLIGHT OF TWENTY YEARS