to have their testimony taken as against him. I admit that Cimon the
Greek and Aleph the Chaldean were strangers here a few days ago, and are
still strangers to most of our people. And yet they have found means so
to introduce themselves to the confidence of some of our most honorable
citizens that these citizens are willing to vouch for them: in which case
they stand before the law and the public with all the prestige of their
sponsors.
“But I am unwilling to have my clients rest their claim to respectability
and consideration on the dignity of any other people, however high, who
are willing to vouch for them. It is unnecessary. They have an honorable
standing of their own. It is written in their very faces and bearing. Who
is Cimon the Greek? It appears from this certified copy of the records of
the University that thirty years ago a young man with that name and of
illustrious Athenian descent greatly distinguished himself above all his
companions in all branches of learning and gentlemanly accomplishment.
This young man is Cimon the Greek—as two of the older teachers in the
University have been able to recognize and are here to testify.
“And who is Aleph the Chaldean? You have only to look upon him to know
that he is _Somebody_: how much of a body, so far as social standing is
concerned, this packet which I now take up from the table ought to tell.
Those of you who sit near me can see that the seal is yet unbroken. I
now break it; and, on removing certain wraps, come to this” (he held
up to view a roll of vellum richly blazoned and bearing a broad seal).
“This document is bordered with many jewels, the value of which some of
you can judge of better than myself, but which yet my limited knowledge
of such matters assures me to be quite great enough to authenticate the
written contents. So costly a credential as this is beyond the reach
of an impostor, and was doubtless chosen for this reason. What are the
contents?”
He paused, and read in silence. Then, holding up the vellum so as to
display the seal, he resumed:
“This seal bears on it the figure of a crown. The script is in three
languages—Latin, Greek, and Chaldean. I will read the Greek:
“TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
“‘I, Jasper Daniel Atropates, King of Median Atropatene and
pontiff of the Most High God, foreseeing that occasion may
arise for such a document as this, do hereby certify that the
bearer is my only son, Prince Aleph Daniel, whom I send with
his Greek preceptor and my chief counsellor into Egypt for
purposes altogether peaceful, viz.: to study the institutions
and learning of the West, to enlarge his knowledge of life and
man, and to act for me, in conjunction with his companion, in
all my business affairs in that land.
“‘To this I affix the seal of my kingdom.’
“Such is the document,” said Piso, handing it to the Judges for
inspection. After a few moments he resumed:
“In explanation of this document, I would remind the Court that
Atropatene is a Chaldean kingdom of great beauty and fertility,
unassailably entrenched among the mountains of Media, where for five
hundred years have ruled the descendants of the Hebrew prophet Daniel,
to whom it was given by Cyrus the Persian, and to whose descendant
Atropates it was confirmed by Alexander the Macedonian. The monarchs
of this dynasty have not thought it beneath themselves to do as did
Solomon the Magnificent—to engage in commerce with foreign countries and
make the superfluities of one land supply the deficiencies of another.
Accordingly, when, thirty years ago, Jasper with two other princes passed
through the land, he arranged with Malus, then not so well known as he
is now, to receive and dispose of such eastern goods as might be sent
him by way of the Red Sea, Myos Hermos, and Coptus. Malus did not know
that his employer was a sovereign: probably has never known it till now.
This is the man whom he has defrauded—trusting that the remoteness of his
principal would secure him from detection. But the Heavens have decreed
against him—the Heavens which he seems to have forgotten.”
The advocate of Malus made only a brief reply. He dealt in generalities.
He asserted and reasserted in many forms, and with much strength of
voice, the innocence of his client. Whatever the appearances against
him, they were deceptive. To get at real facts we often have to go below
the seemings. Wise men have to be on their guard against even their
own senses. He would not condemn the notable citizens and officials
who had given their support to the other side: at the same time, he
must be allowed to say that they have made a grave mistake. They have
been misled by circumstantial evidence, as many other intelligent and
upright men have been. He had no doubt but that they would some day see
their mistake, and be sorry for it. How would they like to have their
own reputations and fortunes fall a prey to some plausible adventurer?
He hoped that they would never come to that; but it now looked as if no
man’s fortune, or even life, would henceforth be safe in Alexandria. He
trusted that the eminent Judges would see the peril to which they and all
people of consideration are exposed, and, by their verdict, discourage
attacks on prominent men, to which envy and cupidity so strongly tempt.
It would not be surprising if his client, amid the pressure and anxieties
of so large and varied business, had sometimes made mistakes, sometimes
been forgetful, and even sometimes been overborne and distracted to the
point of irresponsible insanity. In such circumstances he may have done
things which, in his right mind, he never would have done. In the conduct
of great and complicated affairs the strain on the mind is often very
great; and, for his part, he wondered that it did not give way oftener
than it did. He hoped that the Judges would take these considerations
into account in making up their verdict; and would not ruin one of their
own citizens for the sake of a foreigner, whether prince or peasant. A
verdict against Malus would send a large sum out of the country, never to
return. Alexandria would be impoverished for the sake of Chaldea.
So the case was submitted. The Judges conferred among themselves for a
few moments, and then one of them spoke in a low tone to the Prætor.
The public crier summoned attention, and the Prætor announced:
“I. The Judges have decided that the suit of Malus against Cimon is
unsustained, and order that the defendant, discharged from custody,
receive damages to the amount of 50,000 staters, the estimated value of
the jewels said to have been stolen.
“II. Also, the Judges have decided that the suit of Cimon against Malus
is sustained; and order that the latter pay to the former the arrears for
thirty years as determined by certain dealers in eastern goods, hereafter
to be designated, in view of the actual duties and prices during that
period, and counting as genuine both the harbor receipts of Malus and his
accounts to his principal as they have been shown here.
“III. Also, it is ordered that Malus be taken into custody until the
payment now decreed has been made, and until it has been legally
determined whether he is guilty of the crime of smuggling. LICITUM EST
DECEDERE.”
Aleph and Cimon were overwhelmed with congratulations. The Governor
pressed them to become his guests and occupy a vacant palace at Bruchium;
but they excused themselves, and begged to be allowed to return
unceremoniously with Seti to the Serapeum. They were unable, however, to
return as inconspicuously as they wished: for the delegation of students,
with Cornelius at their head, insisted on escorting them, and cheering
crowds gradually gathered about them, and before they reached the temple
they met nearly the whole enthusiastic membership of the University, whom
nothing could prevent from rending the air and shaking the city with
cries of “LONG LIVE ALEPH THE PRINCE!”
Who were they who said that poetical justice is _always_ done in this
world? Ah, I remember—they were the friends of Job. Who were they who
said that poetical justice is _never_ done in actual life? No matter:
whoever said it smote facts in the face. I mean such facts as are
recorded in this chapter: also such as are recorded in the Bible history
of Joseph, but especially of Daniel the prophet, the great ancestor of
our Aleph, against whose fortunes the floods of wrong not only surged in
vain, but floated them up to higher levels.
Under the sun, the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to
the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches to men of understanding,
nor favor to men of skill. Sometimes good men have to wait long for
their due—sometimes even into the next world. Of course, sooner or later
justice will be done. As sure as there is a God in Heaven, justice _must_
be done, sooner or later. But we are always thankful when it is done
_sooner_—when a good man does not have to wait for his due till he is
dead; when some Daniels and Aleph-Daniels are not only recompensed in the
earth, but find the feet of justice not so heavily weighted but that they
can reach their goal within a few days of the starting. The weak in faith
then thank God and take courage.
XVII.
THE CONCLUSION.
Οταν εὺτυχήσωμεν τότε χαίρειν παρέσταὶ.
SOPHOCLES, _Electr._ 1299.
_When we shall succeed, then is the time to rejoice._
1. Neither impotent nor lame.
2. Each to his own place.
3. By way of Jesus.
4. Home.
XVII.
THE CONCLUSION.
Were it not for a most conspicuous example, now and then, of large
success in committing an enterprise to God and then mightily trusting His
Providence, faith would lack a very desirable inspiration.
In the case of our Chaldean friends, the success was very large indeed.
As we all soon come to know, many good enterprises end in complete
failure. Only a few attain complete success, and realize all they
proposed to themselves. Still fewer _surpass_ their aim, and accomplish
far more than they expected or ventured to hope. Yet such was the
enterprise of Cimon and Aleph in Alexandria.
What had they proposed to themselves? To investigate Malus, and bring him
to justice; to gather reliable information concerning Him who was born
king of the Jews and to whom the miraculous star had guided the Magian
sovereigns; to broaden and enrich the education of Aleph, not only by
giving him a wider outlook on the world and humanity, but by throwing
him, divested of all the insignia and glamour of his rank, entirely on
his own resources for guidance and help in dealing with men in new and
difficult circumstances. All these objects had been accomplished.
Within a few days from the close of the trial the authorities had placed
in the hands of Cimon the full amount of his claim against Malus,
together with interest on all delayed payments. This, in itself, was
not sufficient to ruin the rogue financially. But he had already drawn
considerably on his resources in his attempt to bribe the judges and
secure the countenance of other influential people: for they had not
hesitated to take silently his gifts though no equivalent was rendered.
But the greatest drain upon him came from another quarter. Other victims
of his rapacity, encouraged by the result of Cimon’s suit, attacked him
successfully; and before long it seemed as if there would be no end to
the suits. Under these circumstances, Alexandria was not much surprised,
one fine morning, to hear that Malus (latterly they had fallen into the
way of calling him Pessimus) was nowhere to be found—nor any of his
remaining assets. The guard set upon him was not incorruptible, and he
had disappeared between two days. No one knew where he had gone. Some
said to Ethiopia; some said to Spain; some said to Marseilles in Gaul;
and some would have it that he had taken to the desert with Draco. A few
declared that he had committed suicide. This last supposition, however,
was considered extremely improbable, on the ground that so shrewd a
person would not take the trouble to carry away with him goods which he
did not mean to use. There is no use for current money of the merchant in
Hades. Whatever supposition was correct, it is certain that Malus never
reappeared in Alexandria.
But our friends had a still more important object in coming to the
commercial metropolis of the West. It was to learn about Him who was
born king of the Jews. Some things they already knew from the Magi—that
his coming was divinely heralded and accompanied by supernatural events,
that his mission was a great and glorious one, having significance for
all nations. What had they learned in addition? That the life which
had opened so grandly amid the ministries and songs of angels, and the
worship and gifts of star-led pilgrims, had come to a still grander
sequel—that into the glowing dawn had at length come the sun in his
strength; a mingled glory of miracles and character and teaching such
as never before gathered about a single life—that Jesus is surely the
Messiah of the Sacred Books and their sufficient credential—that this
Messiah is not, as has been commonly supposed, a secular warrior,
conqueror, and king; but a spiritual monarch ruling over willing hearts
in the interest of truth and righteousness, and whose victories are
salvations—that his mission in the world is one of humiliation instead of
exaltation, of suffering instead of pleasure, of death instead of life;
and that in dying he completed a vicarious sacrifice for the sins of the
world—also, that to express the dignity of his being both the prophets
and himself use language which exalts him far above angels and claims for
him a Divine nature. To know all this was a great gain, more than they
had ventured to hope. And if, on their way home, they should be able to
see the Messiah with their own eyes, witness personally some wonderful
work, and obtain for themselves and theirs his personal benediction, they
would feel that their way had been wonderfully prospered.
And then the educational object which the father of Aleph distinctly
proposed to himself—was that object well secured? How well Aleph carried
himself when thrown on his own resources for guidance we have seen; and
my belief is that when his parents come to see him and to hear the report
of Cimon, they will be quite satisfied with their experiment. They will
realize that the promising bud has beautifully flowered, that the rare
plant which had started and grown so thriftily in their sheltered and
sunny conservatory was now hardy enough to be transplanted into the open
field, and even to the windy summits of life.
So all the ends proposed in the visit of our friends to Alexandria
were accomplished—and more. For these unknown men had been the means
of introducing not only a loftier moral element into the student life
of Alexandria, but had so drawn upon Cornelius and Metellus, who had
specially attached themselves to them, that they had begun to study the
Septuagint, to frequent the services at the Diapleuston, to admire the
sublime monotheism and hopes of the Jew, and finally to give sure token
of becoming, the one the devout Cornelius of the Acts of the Apostle
and the other one of those Christians saluted by Paul as belonging to
“Aristobulus’ household.”
But the influence of Aleph on Sextus Flaccus was still more remarkable.
His frequent interviews with that penitent man ended not only in his
thorough reform, and in his renouncing idolatry, but also in his
accepting Jesus as a Divine sacrifice for sin.
And it was on this wise. The young Roman at first was terribly oppressed
with a sense of sin. He could hardly say too much against himself. His
misdeeds and follies haunted him like ghosts, and hunted him like the
Eumenides. Their horrible faces scowled at him, their serpent-hair hissed
and leaped at him, their clenched hands shook themselves at him from
behind almost every object he saw. Sometimes in his sleep he would see a
mountain, traced all over in fiery characters with the names of his sins,
moving swiftly toward him; and he would wake drenched in sweat and terror
as the ponderous masses came rushing in upon him and buried him thousands
of feet beneath their munitions of rocks. At other times he dreamed that,
like Andromeda, he was chained to a rock at the ocean’s edge, and that
great storm-billows in long succession were sweeping in upon him, and
that on the crested summit of each a great sea-monster with lurid eyes
and open jaws came rushing and shrieking _Sin_, SIN, SIN. He shrieked as
loudly—and awoke in despair.
It was in this state that he first sent for Aleph. His first sense of
relief came when Aleph told him the story of Jesus, and suggested the
idea of a Divine incarnation and atonement for sin. The wretched man
clutched the idea as a drowning man does a plank. Here was something
solid to rest upon. Here was a sufficient sacrifice for even his
enormities. The weight began to lift from his oppressed breast. At last
one day as Aleph was reading to him the sublime description which Isaiah
gives in his 53d chapter of Him on whom “were laid the iniquities of
us all,” a mighty deliverance came. Suddenly all his doors and windows
sprang open musically to welcome Jesus as the Lamb of God. The sense
of need opened them. From that day the sick body mended wonderfully;
and soon the streets of Alexandria saw a new man under an old name. The
name continued to be Sextus Flaccus, but it stood for a very different
person. It stood for the first Roman Christian of rank who dared to avow
himself. Paul on his arrival at Rome some years later found him a member
of Cæsar’s household, and ready to help him with all his influence in
founding the first Roman church.
This was a great and unexpected success. But, in addition, our eastern
pilgrims, with nothing but their cultured manhood to show, had found
other friends such as they had never counted on finding—friends well
worth the having, even by a prince; friends whose friendship was for
themselves and not for their rank; friends among whom was one—but I must
not anticipate. Nay, I must go back a little.
Though Alexander had reached home early in the evening before the last
trial, it was very late before he could get to his rest—he had so much
to tell and so much to hear. And this was what he had to tell. He had
succeeded in both the objects for which he had hastened to Rome. Of
course, one of these objects was to prevent the disturbance at the
Diapleuston from being misrepresented to the emperor as a personal
affront. It was not reported at all. For some reason Flaccus had not
thought it best to say anything about the matter in his dispatches.
Probably he thought that some of the circumstances would not bear
telling; and then the presence of Alexander at the ear of the emperor was
in itself a caution to be prudent. So Flaccus was dumb.
The other object which Alexander had in view was really to find out some
safe way of declining the marriage proposals in behalf of the Cæsar.
Notwithstanding the fears of his daughter, he had never been so much
attracted by the offer of an imperial alliance as were some of his Jewish
friends. He had been too much behind the scenes at the Palatine. He knew
too much of Tiberius and Cæsarism. He knew nothing to the disadvantage of
Germanicus and much to his advantage; but he also knew that Tiberius as a
young man had won golden opinions; also, that to be the nephew and heir
apparent of the jealous and capricious emperor was very far from being
foreordained to empire. So one of his objects in going to Rome was, not
to see whether the proposals were desirable, but to see how they might
safely be declined. That was a hard problem. But Providence favored him.
He found that Germanicus, who had never seen Rachel, had many times seen
Agrippina, the granddaughter of Augustus, and to very good purpose. The
growing intimacy and attachment between the young people which he was not
slow to discover he promoted to the utmost. And when the matter was ripe
he found means of bringing it to the knowledge of Sejanus, the emperor’s
favorite, and of so enlisting him in its support that under his influence
Tiberius began to regret his Egyptian proposals, and to seek some excuse
for recalling them. “He did not know, when they were made, of the
situation at home. It had only just come to his knowledge. He was sorry;
but he hated to break young hearts.” Alexander allowed that it would be
a pity. The emperor also thought that, inasmuch as Germanicus and Rachel
had never met, it might not, after all, be a very hard matter for the
fair Alexandrian to have the matter dropped in such a quiet and honorable
way as could easily be devised. Alexander candidly allowed that the fact
which his majesty had stated was a weighty one. In short, Tiberius
receded from his proposals; and, to soften the supposed disappointment to
the mighty banker for whom his treasury had so much use, he sent him home
in the imperial galley with new guaranties and privileges for the Jewish
community in Egypt, and with a broad hint to Flaccus to let it be known
that the honor of the imperial alliance had been declined from religious
considerations which the emperor felt bound to respect. The Alabarch
expected nothing less than that early the next morning all Alexandria
would be in possession of the news, and would be wondering how he could
so rebuff the emperor and yet stand higher in his favor than ever.
This, for substance, was what Alexander had to tell. Of course Rachel was
vastly delighted at her escape; and showed that she was by flinging her
arms about her father’s neck and rapturously kissing him.
But the father wanted to hear as well as to tell. Something of what had
transpired had reached him by letter; but he wanted to know all. And
Seti rehearsed all that had happened since that memorable Sabbath at
the Diapleuston. Rachel sat uneasily silent, leaning against her father
and toying with the splendid jewelled badge of the Order of the Golden
Eagle which Tiberius at parting had, with his own hands, fastened on his
breast—listening with burning cheeks as her grandfather in his graphic
way reproduced the events and expressed the confidence and admiration
with which Aleph had inspired him. Every now and then she stole an
anxious look at her father’s face; not quite sure how the shrewd man of
affairs, professionally accustomed to deal with men on a principle of
suspicion and abundant caution, would view the eulogiums of the priest
and philosopher, founded on so brief an acquaintance. When Alexander had
heard all, he said slowly:
“If I had never seen the young man, nor known Seti so well, I might have
challenged the sobriety of the account I have just heard. But, having
seen him twice, and you a thousand times, I have nothing to say, save
that I wish he was emperor of the West, or at least the Cæsar. In that
case, perhaps, I would not take so much trouble to keep the Cæsar at
arm’s-length, as I have been lately taking in another quarter”—and he
nodded smilingly at Rachel. “But who can he be?”
“No matter who he is,” returned Seti with emphasis, “since he is a _Man_,
a sovereign man. He has a broader empire within him than Tiberius sees
without him; an empire of which no caprice of fortune can rob him. And
his body is as sovereign as his soul. He needs no herald to go before him
and cry, _Make way, for the king is coming_. Men know it as soon as they
see him.”
To such words Rachel could have listened all night. But she wondered
whether they would have been spoken had father and grandfather known
what she knew. She had not yet mustered courage to speak to Seti of her
new relation to Aleph; in fact had about made up her mind to leave all
explanations to Providence and Aleph. So both Seti and Alexander remained
ignorant of that wonderful conversation between the young people which I
have lately recorded till Aleph the Chaldean had become Aleph the Prince,
and had asked leave to substitute for the proposals of Tiberius certain
proposals of his own. Then the whole matter came out. The Alabarch found
that his daughter had no serious objection to being a princess provided
the prince was of the right sort. He was in very much the same mood
himself. Indeed, he went so far as to say that he would not have refused
his daughter to Aleph had he always remained simply Aleph the Chaldean,
of unknown birth and fortunes: how much less could he do it now that the
young man stood revealed a Hebrew of the Hebrews, a descendant of Daniel
the illustrious statesman and prophet, and the heir of the stablest and
choicest, though not the largest, sovereignty of the age!