BOOK VIII.

STEPHEN MARTYR.

As Stephen approaches the temple, he is suddenly arrested and brought before the Sanhedrim. There making his defence, he is interrupted with hostile demonstrations, instigated by Shimei. On this, he bursts out with noble indignation, which furnishes the desired occasion for a cry against him of "Blasphemy!" from all, and for a violent hurrying forth of the prisoner without the walls to be stoned. A file of Roman soldiers confronts and stays the tumultuous crowd; but, after parley conducted by Shimei with the centurion, their leader, the rout is suffered to proceed. Meantime, however, a little company of sympathizing Christians, including Rachel with the three from Bethany, have gathered round Stephen and listened to cheerful, tranquillizing words from him. After the stoning, these friends carry the body of Stephen for laving to the pool of Siloam, whence by moonlight up Olivet to Bethany. Here they lay it in a room of Martha and Mary's house until morning.

STEPHEN MARTYR.

The sun of Syrian afternoon, declined Half-way betwixt the zenith and the west, Burned blinding in the cloudless blue of heaven And fired a conflagration in the copes Of beaten gold hung over the august House of Jehovah, whither Stephen now Tended unconsciously with wonted feet. That spectacle of splendor he, agaze With holden unbeholding eyes, saw not, Or, as but with his heart beholding, saw Only as goal of his obedience due. Down the abrupt declivity with speed, The westward-slanting slope of Olivet, Descending by a path stony and steep-- The same whereon full often to and fro Had fared the Blessed Feet, between the dust And din and fever of Jerusalem, And the sweet purity and peace, the cool, The quiet, of that home in Bethany, His refuge!--so descending, Stephen passed On his right hand Gethsemane, that moved Muse of the Master's agony for men, Crossed Kedron, and thence upward pressing gained Gate Susan, whence the temple nigh in view. 'Perhaps,' thought he, 'perhaps, once more, against My expectation, I am thither brought To preach as when I answered Saul that day. The Lord will show me, in full time, alike What I must speak, and when, and where.'

So wrapt In welcome of the will unknown of God, And full of faith and of the Holy Ghost, Stephen with no amazement was afraid When, suddenly and rudely, in the street, A band in service of the Sanhedrim Set on him, and, by their authority, Seized him and brought him prisoner accused Of blasphemy before their council, there To be examined for his words and deeds. Captive in body, he in soul was free, Exulting in that glorious liberty, The sense of sonship to Almighty God.

False witnesses, by Shimei suborned, And well their lesson taught by Shimei, Stood forth, who, to the teeth of Stephen, swore: "This person never ceases speaking words Against this holy place and Moses' law; We heard him say that Jesus Nazarene Is going to destroy this place, and change The customs Moses handed down to us."

All the assessors in the Sanhedrim, Fastening their eyes on Stephen, saw his face, As it had been an angel's, kindling shine. Saul marked it, and remembered how that day The lightning of that face had blinded him!

The high priest now, accosting Stephen, asked, "Are these things so?" and Stephen thus replied: "Brethren and fathers, hearken to my words. With ears that tingle to the echoes yet, Perchance, of that high passionate harangue Which late from Saul ye heard concerning wounds Intended to this Jewish commonwealth, Ye now have heard forsooth again from these-- How temple, law, and well-belovéd ways Bequeathed us by our fathers from of old Are threatened in the message that I preach.

"But, brethren, he mistakes who deems that God Is to one place, one race, one time, one clime, One mode of showing forth Himself, shut up. Consider through what phases manifold Has passed already heretofore God's way With men; thence learn how lightly reckons God Of place or method. "Unto Abraham first Before he came to Charan, while he yet Dwelt in the land between the rivers, God Appeared. Nor in a place thus holy made, And glorious, by theophany, was he, Our father, suffered to abide. 'Arise,' Jehovah said, 'and get thee hence and come Into the land which I will show thee.' Then To Charan that obedient pilgrim passed. Nor there found he a settled rest. Again He journeyed and in Canaan, this fair land Wherein ye dwell, a sojourner became; For here God gave him no inheritance, Promising only that in after times That childless father's children here should dwell.

"Meanwhile another change, and now what seems A long postponement of the purposed grace. Four hundred years should Abraham's seed sojourn As strangers in an alien land where they Should suffer bondage and an evil lot: Delivered thence with judgment on their foes, They then should hither come and here serve God.

"Yet when the ripeness of the time was full, And Moses offered to deliver them, Our fathers doubted and refused his hand: But Moses notwithstanding led them out. And that same Moses prophesied of One To follow him as Prophet Whom must all Obey. Yet Moses, mouth of God to men, Obeyed our fathers not, but, in their hearts Gone back to Egypt, spurned him far aloof From them. Then followed that apostasy To idols, by Jehovah God chastised, On those offending, with captivity Which beyond Babylon carried them away.

"Albeit Jehovah gave to Moses such Honor as never yet to man was given, Still much that Moses wrought was cast aside. That tabernacle, made by him express As God Himself had shown him in the mount, And so inwove with Hebrew history, God suffered this to pass, and in its place Preferred the temple built by Solomon.

"Yet not in houses built with human hands Dwells the Most High; as, by His prophet, God Says, 'On the heaven sit I as on a throne, And the earth make a footstool for My feet.' 'What house will ye build Me,' the Lord inquires, 'Or what shall be the place of Mine abode?'"

So far a loth penurious decent heed The council had grudged out to Stephen; here The scowl of curious incredulity, Wherewith they listened while as yet in doubt Whither might tend his drift of argument, Changed to a frown of deadly hate, as they Conclusion from his use of Scripture drew That Stephen glanced at overthrow indeed Meant for the temple. Instantly, alert To seize occasion, Shimei the sig Gave to prepared conspirators, who now Obediently framed a menace grim Of gesture to denounce the speaker's aim; And all the council, as one man, astir With insurrection, frowned a vehement Refusal to receive the word of God.

Stephen beheld their aspect, and his soul, Dilating to a seraph's measure, filled With sudden prophet's zeal aflame for God. He forged his indignation into words Which, like bolts kindling, now he launched at them. He said: "Stiff-necked ye, and uncircumcised In heart and ears! Always do ye resist The Holy Ghost; as did your fathers, so Do ye. Which of the prophets did they not, Your fathers, persecute? Who showed before The coming of the Just One, those they slew; And of Him now have ye betrayers been And murderers. Ye who the law, received At angels' disposition, have not kept!"

Cut to the heart at this, those councillors Gnashed with their teeth on Stephen. But that sight Stephen, his eyes rapt elsewhere, did not see. Full of the Holy Ghost, his face he raised, Gazing with sense undazzled into heaven, And saw the glory of God, and Jesus there, Not sitting, as at ease, but, as in act To help, standing, on the right hand of God. He testified that vision thus to men: "Opened see I the heavens and standing there The Son of Man on the right hand of God."

Thereat a loud acclaim of hatred forth Burst in one voice from all the Sanhedrim. Full come was Shimei's opportunity. As started Mattathias to his feet In honest wrath instinctive, Shimei too Rose, counterfeiting wrath, sign understood By his complotters, who now likewise rose In simultaneous second and support, Setting the council in a wild turmoil. They stopped their ears, and all together ran On Stephen with tumultuary rage To thrust him forth without the city walls.

The rush of such commotion through the streets, A torrent madness raging on its way, Raging and roaring, every moment more, Roused a wide wind of rumor and surmise Troubling the air of all Jerusalem. Tremor of this reached Rachel's jealous sense, On edge--she knowing that the Sanhedrim Would that day summon Stephen to its bar-- To fear the worst for Stephen and for Saul. But Ruth, her home more distant, she at home Urged by importunate cares which for her wrought Some present respite from the strain and pain Of that farewell with Stephen--vexing thought! Too certain to return insistently, In waking and in sleeping vision, soon, At night upon her bed, unbidden guest, And haunt her bosom with sad memories, And vague, unhappy, beckoning shapes of fears!-- Ruth, so precluded, nothing knew of all.

Rachel, with other women of the Way Like-minded with herself, pathetic group! Drew timorous nigh the ragged rushing rim Of that confusion pouring toward the gate Which northward opened on Damascus road.

The self-same path it was whereby had walked A little while before, bearing His cross, The Saviour of mankind toward Calvary. Stephen remembered, and, remembering, went Both meekly more, and more triumphantly, To suffer like his Lord without the gate. He said within himself, 'I follow Him; I feel His footprints underneath my feet.' Those women watched the martyr every step, And with hands waved signalled him sympathy. Such helpless help was help the more to him-- Who had no need, but gave them back again Their sympathy in looks of strength and cheer Which bade them too be faithful unto death, As they saw him that day. The peace of God, Lodged in his heart--a trust from Christ, Whose word Was, "Peace I leave with you, My peace to you I give; not as the world gives give I you: Let not your heart be troubled, neither let It be afraid"--that peace steadfast he bore Amid the tumult round him, the one thing Not shaken in a shaken universe, Like the earth's axle sleeping and the earth Whirling from centre to circumference!

Not yet the rout had reached the city gate, When, lo! a sudden halt, a sudden hush, Arrested and becalmed the multitude. A file of Roman soldiers from the fort, With swift, straight, sure lock-step, steel-clad, that clanged, Flowed like a rill of flowing mercury, Heavy yet nimble, through a street that crossed The course of that mad progress, and, athwart Its head abutting, stayed; the clang of pause Rang sharper than the clang of the advance. The leader, a centurion, sternly spoke: "What means this uproar? Seek ye to provoke Your rulers? Love ye, then, your yoke so well Ye fain would feel it heavier on your necks? Sedition into insurrection grows Full easily, and this sedition seems. Speak, who can tell, and say, What would ye?" Prompt, Then, Shimei, of the foremost, stepping forth Said; "This is no sedition as might seem; A crushing of sedition rather. We, The Sanhedrim"--wherewith a smirk and bow From Shimei, with wave of hand swept round Upon his colleagues in their sorry plight Dishevelled, seemed, in sneering cynic sort, To introduce them with mock dignity-- "We Sanhedrim this fellow caught employed In stirring up sedition, and our zeal For peace and order under Roman rule Inflamed us, following our forefathers' way, To visit death on him without the gate. We beg you will allow us to proceed And put to proof of act our loyalty"-- Hot breath, half hiss, from Mattathias here-- "This script perhaps will help determine you."

And Shimei handed up a tablet writ. The Roman read: "Let this disorder pass; It may be useful. Watch it well." The seal Once more with care examined, parley had With Shimei, whose crafty answers meet Each wary scruple of the officer, And sign is given to let the rout proceed.

Meantime a different scene has quietly Been passing unperceived. That company Of ministering women Rachel found, Salomé, and the Marys, blessed name! With others who had followed and bewailed When Jesus suffered--these, joined now by those From Bethany, with Lazarus, prevailed To edge their way ungrudged through the close ranks Of idle gazers round not undisposed Themselves to sympathize, until they stood Nigh Stephen, and in undertones could speak With him, and hear his words. "Weep not for me," He said, "ye blesséd! I am well content. I think how short the way is, not how sharp, To Jesus where just now I saw Him. There He stood in heaven on the right hand of God. He seemed to lean toward me with arms outstretched As if at once to take me to Himself! I spring toward Him with joy unutterable. I shall not feel the pain, which will but speed Me thither. He hath overcome the world. Be of good cheer, belovéd, ye who wait A little longer to behold His face. For you too He hath overcome the world. Be strong, be faithful, be obedient, A little while--and we shall meet again Safe, happy, in the New Jerusalem, Forever and forever with the Lord.

"But Ruth, my wife, yet unbelieving--care For her and for my children! God will give All to our prayers. And Husband He will be To her, and Father to the fatherless."

Rachel to Lazarus whispered: "Tell him I, Rachel, Saul's sister, would do something. Ask What I may do for Ruth, to testify A sister's sorrow for a brother's fault. And let him not think hardly, not too hardly, Of Saul who wrongs him so!"

And Lazarus Told Stephen, who, with look benign addressed To Rachel, said: "Thou, Rachel, thou thyself, No other, shalt to Ruth my wife convey Her husband's very last farewell; good-night Call it, and bid her meet me there to say Good-morning. Comfort her with words. To Saul Say--when the time comes he will hear, not now-- That all is well, is wholly well. I go-- And that is well--perhaps in part through him, Which seems not well, but is, by grace of Christ, Who thus, in part through me--and surely that Likewise is well--erelong will make of Saul, In Stephen's room, a more than Stephen both To preach and suffer for His name. This hope Be thine, Rachel, and God be with thee, child!"

Martha, her hand as ready as her heart, Had other cheer provided than of words. 'The willing spirit, if the flesh be weak, May faint,' she thought, 'and angels strengthening Him Brought Jesus succor in Gethsemane. May I not be his angel, Stephen's, now, And his flesh brace to bear his agony?' She said to Stephen: "I have brought thee here A cake of barley and a honeycomb. I pray thee eat and cheer therewith thy heart." "God bless thee, Martha, for thy loving thought!" Said Stephen; and he took the food from her And ate it, giving thanks before them all. And all with him gave thanks, for nothing else Could so have cheered them in their sad estate As thus to see their friend at such an hour Cheering himself with food, his appetite Not troubled by least trouble of the mind, And he approved superior to his lot, Not by a strain of high heroic pride, Not by access of transient ecstasy, But simply by the sober confidence, Well-grounded, of the soul enduring all As seeing Him Who is invisible. Besides, had any deemed that Martha erred, Inopportunely ministering to the flesh, When spirit unsupported by the flesh As well had conquered, and more gloriously, Haply, too, letting this their thought escape, Unmeant, in look or gesture, to her pain-- Such might, in Stephen's gracious act, have heard As if a silent echo of those words-- Ineffably persuasive sweet reproof At once and soft assuagement of unease-- "Why trouble ye the woman? She hath wrought A good work for Me." But the Sanhedrim, Permitted by the Roman to resume Their way with Stephen, now to him once more Their notice turned. Within their heart enraged, First, to have met with such a check, and then, Scarce less, _so_ to have had the check removed-- Both this and that their sense of bondage chafed-- Ill brooked it they to see what now they saw, Their prisoner in calm converse with his friends.

"Begone!" to these they cried. "For shame to show Untimely softness thus to whom ye see Your rulers judge worthy of death. Begone!"

One churl among those councillors was found, When Stephen gently bade his friends give way, Even for his own sake, who could least endure To see them suffer roughness, most unmeet For such as they--one graceless churl was found To raise his hand at Stephen speaking so And smite him on the mouth. A wail at this Broke from those women, and their hair they tore In passion of compassion and of wrath Holy as love. But Stephen was most meek, And only in a shadowed look expressed Pain at such painful sympathy with pain. This seen by those, they soon responsively Resumed composure like his own, and walked, Following, molested not, at small remove From the belovéd martyr, cheering him, And cheered, with sense of some society.

So, on, with going less precipitate, And less vociferous rage, but not less fell, Moved the infatuate multitude, repressed And maddened, both at once, to feel themselves Only by sufferance masters of the fate Of Stephen, and their very footsteps timed To regular and slow behind those few Austere, impassive, automatic men Armed, who, though few they might be, yet meant Rome.

Arrived at length at the accurséd spot, They stay. The ground about was strewn with stones, Rejected fragments from the quarry cleft, Flakes from the mason's chisel, interspersed Dilapidations from the city walls Twice overthrown and razed, or missiles thence Once by defenders on assailants hurled. They stay, and, Stephen stationed in the midst Where, first, a circle of spectators round Was ordered in disorderly array, Prepare to act their dreadful blasphemy.

Within, opposed to Stephen, Saul stood, pale, Blanched with resolve, anguished, and tremulous, But in nerve shaken, not in will, to take His part. Saul's part was only to consent. Perhaps the eyes, the beautiful sad eyes, Of Rachel, dark and liquid ever, now Unfathomably deep with unshed tears-- Perhaps such eyes, his sister's, fixed on him, He seeing not because he would not see, Wrought yet some holy spell that charmed him back Insensibly from part more active there. But his consent Saul testified with sign Open to all to see, and understood. He held the outer robes thrown off of those Who, disencumbered so, might, with main strength, And aim made sure, the better speed to fling At that meek heavenly man the murderous stone.

Those witnesses malign who had forsworn Stephen to this, were first to cast at him The stone to slay. There Stephen stood, his face, His glory-smitten face, upturned to heaven, And his arms thither raised as if to meet The down-stretched arms of Jesus from on high. It was a sight both beautiful to see And piteous. The angels might have wept, Who saw it, but that they more deeply saw, And saw the pity in the beauty lost, Like a few drops of water on a fire That only serve to feed the flames more bright.

At the first shower of stones at him with cry Of self-exciting execration flung, Stephen, with answering cry, as if of one Running to refuge and to sanctuary, Betook him to the covert of the Wings That trembled with desire to be outstretched Once over doomed Jerusalem unfain, And, "Jesus, Lord, receive my spirit!" said. That his friends heard and echoing said "Amen!" But they the flying stones saw not, nor saw Alight the flying stones upon their friend; For they too turned their faces upward all, And, gazing unimaginable depths Beyond the seen, beheld the glory there, Wherein the scandal and the mystery Of visible things vanished, like shadows plunged In the exceeding brightness of the sun, Or were transformed to make the glory more, Like discords conquered heightening harmony.

With the next flight of stones, unwatched likewise, Stephen, raised far above the fierce effect, Stinging or stunning, of the cruel blows, Spoke heavenward once again, not for himself Petitioning now, but pleading for his foes. His foes already had prevailed to bring The martyr to his knees, and, on his knees, With loud last voice from lips inviolate yet-- As if that angel chant at Bethlehem Still sounded, "Peace on earth, good will to men," Or that diviner tone from Calvary, "Forgive them, for they know not what they do"-- One ransomed pure and perfect human note Threading the dissonant noise with melody-- He prayed, "Lord Jesus, lay not Thou this sin To their account." Therewith he fell asleep. That holy prayer exhaled his breath away, And on his breath exhaled to heaven in prayer His spirit thither aspired and was with Christ.

As Stephen fell asleep, the sun went down; But over Olivet the great full moon Rose brightening. 'So,' thought Stephen's friends of him, 'His life has been extinguished to our eyes, Only elsewhere to shine, but while we wait For the new day to dawn that lingers, lo, His memory instead shall give us light, Not splendid like the sun, yet like the moon Lovely!'

Thus comforting themselves, they saw The murderers of their friend above his corse Build roughly of the stones that smote him dead A kind of cairn in mockery of a tomb. Melted away meanwhile the multitude In silence, and, soon after, all were gone Save the true lovers of the man. Then these Gathered together round the accurséd spot, Now hallowed, where he stood to suffer, where He prayed, and where he fell, and whence he rose Deathless, leaving the sacred body there, Dead, desolate of the spirit, but still dear, Most dear to them. And so, with many tears Fast falling that nigh blinded them, they took From off the body, one by one, the stones-- Almost as if they loved them, with such care!-- Until his face, his fair disfeatured face, And his form marred and broken, open lay To the mild moon that seemed to sympathize, And touched and softened all with healing beams.

"Let us bear hence the sacred clay," they said, "And wash it from the pool of Siloam." Then Lazarus, with three fellow-helpers more-- Nathanael, Israelite indeed, was there, Joseph of Arimathæa too had come, Later, and Nicodemus, by nightfall, These were the chosen four, with Lazarus-- Making a litter of their robes, took up The noble form that lately Stephen wore, And gently carried it to Siloam. With soft lustration there at loving hands, The dust and blood were wholly washed away; The hair and beard then decently arranged, With skill that hid the wounds on cheek or brow, The eyelids closed on eyes that saw no more, The scarce cold palms folded upon the breast, Stephen it seemed indeed just fallen asleep. Then they were glad that Ruth would see him so, So peaceful and so beautiful asleep, Expecting soon to waken satisfied! "To-morrow will be time enough," they said, "To tell Ruth--let her sleep to-night." But Ruth Slept not, or if she slept, slept but to dream Of Stephen and his last hands on her head.

Under the balmy moon, up Olivet To Bethany they bore the holy dust, And there, beneath the roof that sheltered oft The Man who had not where to rest His head, They laid the body down to dreamless sleep; And slept themselves until the morrow morn.