“Presently Joseph, the affianced husband of Mary, discovered that his beloved was to become a mother. At first the discovery was like a dagger in his heart, for as yet the marriage had not been consummated. It was a crisis of great import and trial to husband and wife. Joseph, though now a plain man and a mechanic, carried in his veins the noblest blood of his race, being descendant of the ancient kings and in the line of Solomon and David. Besides that, he had all the abhorrence of the better Jews for adultery, that their awful law of death as its penalty, implied.”
“Did he help the mob to stone her?” cried Rizpah.
Miriamne was startled by her mother’s angry earnestness.
“Oh! we’ll see.”
She continued reading:
“He met his affianced in the evening on her return from Hebron’s rosy hills, whither she had gone to visit her kinswoman, the mother of John, by name Elizabeth. The interview of those two noble women had prepared Mary to tell her betrothed all that troubled and rejoiced her. When her espoused met her privately and for the last time, as he intended, he found her sweetly, serenely singing, as was her wont, a Davidic psalm. He was at first astonished, not knowing how she could be so happy under such stigma as seemed to rest upon her. His patrician blood was roused, and for a moment he was ready to denounce her to the Sanhedrim as an adulteress. Then he looked at her, pitifully, questioningly. It could not be, he meditated, that one so young could be so depraved as to sing God praises, being a criminal. She must be insane! He tore himself from her presence, but instantly returned when she called out: ‘Joseph, God knows all; touch not His anointed.’
“‘Woman!’ he cried ‘explain! explain! Thy seeming sin hangs scorpions over my eyes, and turns my heart to ashes. Thy calmness is a wonderment!’
“Then Mary quietly recited to him the wondrous story of Gabriel’s visit.
“Joseph was pale, and reverently attentive; but still the sadness of his countenance betokened his incredulity.
“Mary, self-possessed, confident in her own integrity, continued: ‘For three months I have been secluded with my kinswoman, Elizabeth. She knows I saw no man, and thou canst testify of the manner of my living since our espousal; but I got words from God, at Hebron. When I first went into my kinswoman’s house.”
“Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Ghost:
“And she spake out with a loud voice, and said, Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.
“And whence is this to me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
“For, lo, as soon as the voice of thy salutation sounded in mine ears, the babe leaped in my womb for joy.
“And blessed is she that believed: for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord.”
“No sooner had Elizabeth finished that salutation, than the Spirit of the Most Holy Ghost possessed me and I, thus, without premeditation prophetically said:
“My soul doth magnify the Lord.
“And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
“For he hath regarded the low estate of his handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
“For He that is mighty hath done to me great things; and holy is His name.
“And His mercy is on them that fear him from generation to generation.
“He hath shewed strength with his arm; He hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
“He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.
“He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich He hath sent empty away.
“He hath holpen his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy.
“As He spake to our fathers, to Abraham, and to his seed forever.”[2]
“I tarried until Elizabeth’s son was born. He is to be the herald of mine! Joseph was amazed. The wisdom and stately character of her magnificent description and ascription were unaccountable. But he doubted still her integrity. Yet his wrath was softened into pity a little. He hesitated, and then, being a just man and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privately.”
“Ha, ha;” laughed Rizpah, bitterly; “I see now, ’tis a beautiful fable thou art reading! Put her away privately! a man do that under such circumstances! Bah! rather would a real man parade the woman’s guilt from the house tops. In truth, to show that he was sinless because he was such a Nemesis of sin; or to get the pity of light-headed fools, who would gladly take the place of the discarded! A pretty, baby face can catch unerringly the man who pities himself well, if she will only gush with real or affected pity for him. Pity and flatter a man and he’ll be—a Lucifer! But read it all. This is refreshing; its so absurdly uncommon!”
The girl continued:
“But while he thought on these things, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost.
“And she shall bring forth a son, thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his people from their sins.
“Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying,
“Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.
“Then Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife.”
Miriamne again read “Joshua” for Jesus, but yet felt assured that her mother was in heart, recognizing the source of the story. Rizpah, by silence, pretended not to know she was listening to parts of the Christian Bible, for she was very curious now. Miriamne was willing the harmless pretense should continue. But they furtively observed each other.
“I see; this is a story based upon some of the Christian’s heresies,” interrupted Rizpah. “If the stories be so unnatural, I’d never fear their sacred books!”
Miriamne was rejoiced, for her mother was becoming interested, and that was nigh being fully persuaded that their home was not contaminated by the hated Christian’s Bible. Miriamne read again:
“Mary now was contented. She had the approval of God and her conscience, and that for which her young heart greatly yearned the approval of the one man of earth whom she loved. It mattered little to her that few others knew her wondrous secret. She knew her position was one of peril, and yet she felt certain God would be with her to the end. The joy of Joseph was full, and the revulsion of feeling from crushing shame, to lofty hope was unutterable. A while before he was ready to die, as he began tearing from his heart its idol, and attempting to consign her to the tomb like that of death, forgetfullness. Now he perceived himself elect of God to defend, vouch for and shelter the woman of women, the highly favored of Deity.
“And it came to pass in those days that there went out a decree from Cæsar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.
“And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
“And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, (because he was of the house and lineage of David,)
“To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife.
“And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished.
“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.”
“How barbarous! They surely could not have been Jews who kept that inn, or a woman in bearing would have had tender welcome. They must have been Christians; they are the people whose women blush when carrying little life, and, as if ashamed, forgetting that God had royally privileged them, hide themselves. Bah, I’m sick of the thought! I’ve seen Christian husbands ashamed of their pregnant wives;” so soliloquised Rizpah.
“There were no Christians at the time of these events, mother. But shall I read of the company Mary had, to comfort her?”
“Yes, do; I’d like to have been there, just to rail at the inn’s folks.”
Miriamne continued,
“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
“And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them; and they were sore afraid.
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.”
“It is said that even the cave, where Mary was, was filled with supernal light,” remarked Miriamne digressingly.
“I believe it on my word. If angels ever come to earth, it must be surely to hold glad torches about the couches where beings, to be at last perchance like themselves, are coming forth to life,” said Rizpah.
“It is thus reported,” continued Miriamne:
“Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem,
“Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him.”
Miriamne substituted Joshua for Jesus in the reading.
“Joshua, ‘Joshua,’ what ‘Joshua’ is that?”
“Joshua means “deliverer;” this one was to be such; for the rest, I’ve not before read it, mother.”
“Read on, again,” tritely, Rizpah spoke.
“When Herod the king had heard these things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.
“And when he had gathered all the chief priests and scribes of the people together, he demanded of them where Christ should be born.
“And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of Judea: for thus it is written by the prophet,
“And thou Bethlehem, in the land of Juda, art not the least among the princes of Juda: for out of thee shall come a Governor, that shall rule my people Israel.
“Then Herod, when he had privily called the wise men, inquired of them diligently what time the star appeared.
“And he sent them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search diligently for the young child; and when ye have found him, bring me word again, that I may come and worship him also.
“When they had heard the king, they departed and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.
“When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
“And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshiped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.
“And being warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way.”
Miriamne read ‘The Anointed’ where the text said Christ.
“Miriamne, who could these men have been, Rabbins?”
“I think not, mother; I see upon the margin of my ‘megellah’ a note which says, These were light or fire-worshipers of Persia. They, or rather their ancestors had heard, centuries before, from the Jews, then their captives, that there was an expectation, based on wondrous prophecies, that some time, there was to be on earth a man, born of woman, in character like God and in mission the bringer in of the golden age. These Magi were seeking that person, like pious pilgrims.”
“Oh, the Messiah. Alas! we all long for His coming!” Then Rizpah fell into a revery from which Miriamne roused her with the question: “Art too weary to hear more?”
“No, no; read, on. These things strangely move and rest me.”
Miriamne continued:
“When eight days were fulfilled, they circumcised the Child, calling him Joshua, offering, according to the law, a pair of turtle doves.”
“Circumcised? Ah, I’m glad! They were good Jews, though poor ones, since they offered the gifts of the poor, two pigeons,” exclaimed Rizpah.
Miriamne read onward:
“There was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon; and the same man was just and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel.
“And it was revealed unto him by the Holy Ghost, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.
“And he came by the Spirit into the Temple; and when the parents brought in the child.
“Then took he him up in his arms, and blessed God and said:
“Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word:
“For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,
“Which thou hast prepared before the face of all people;
“A light to lighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.
“And Joseph and his mother marveled at these things which were spoken of him.
“And Simeon blessed them, and said unto Mary his mother, Behold this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against;
“(Yea, a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also;) that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”
“How mysterious and contradictory, and yet how true the old man’s word, Miriamne? He blessed the parents amid their pious services toward their offspring, yet predicted a sword thrust for the mother. Ah, the sword for the mother is ever impending! But read further.”
Miriamne continued:
“And Anna, a prophetess, who was a widow of about fourscore and four years, which departed not from the temple, but served God with fastings and prayers night and day.
“And she coming in that instant gave thanks likewise unto the Lord, and spoke of him to all them that looked for redemption in Jerusalem.”
“What a finished picture, Miriamne,” interrupted Rizpah. “See, a young mother committing her child to God; a blessing and a sword of pain revealed; then the finest human sympathy in the form of motherhood chastened by years coming to encourage her. Oh, the years have sadly wrecked a true woman if they have put her beyond saying, from her heart: ‘Poor girl, I love thee,’ to her younger sister in her hour of maternal trial. But what followed?”
Miriamne replied by again reading:
“The angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt, and be thou there until I bring thee word: for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.”
“Ha! the jealous old hypocrite! But I remember, Herod murdered his wife. A man brute enough to do that could easily seek the life of an innocent babe. If Apollyon ever be dethroned because of the appearing of one more devilish than himself, the dethroner will be a wife-murderer!” exclaimed Rizpah, almost in a passion.
Miriamne continued:
“Joseph took the young child and his mother by night, and departed into Egypt.
“And was there until the death of Herod.”
“So Jewry, our Jewry, gave one of its young mothers a stable for a bed chamber, a manger for her babe; then refused her these by making her an exile. Cruel Israel said go or be childless! Oh, Israel! how Pagan Rome defiled thee!” passionately exclaimed the Jewish matron.
Miriamne paused until the mother questioned:
“Was there a pursuit?”
“A hot one, though a vain one; my manuscript reads as follows:
“Herod had charged the Magi to tell him, on their return from their quest, the abode of the Child born under the star. He pretended to desire to pay it homage, but in heart he was intending to murder it. The Magi, impressed by the goodness and sanctity of mother and Infant, never returned to Herod to betray them.”
“Then Herod, when he saw that he was mocked of the wise men, was exceeding wroth, and sent forth and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem, and in all the coasts thereof, from two years old and under, according to the time which he had diligently inquired of the wise men.
“Then was fulfilled that which was spoken by Jeremy, the prophet, saying:
“In Ramah there was a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and a great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not.”
“So a dark wave of misery rolled over Bethlehem. Hundreds of women, weeping over their own dead, were led to understand the cruel injustice of the spirit that drove the Virgin and her child into exile, and that, until the end of time, there will be sorrow in the homes of the land that does despite to the virtues and characteristics exemplified, so well, by that mother and that Child.”
With these words Miriamne rolled up her parchment, saying: “This is all there is written here.”
“All? It is well, for thou art weary, child. We’ll now retire; to-morrow I must speak with thee about the book. Good-night, now.”
“Good-night, mother.”
CHAPTER XXI.
THE QUEEN WITH HER FAMILY IN EGYPT.
“It is curious to observe, as the worship of the Virgin mother expanded and gathered to itself the relics of many an ancient faith, now the new and the old elements became amalgamated.... The Madonna assumed the characteristics ... of the types of fertility.”—Anna Jamison.
The day following Miriamne’s readings to her mother, she eagerly sought Father Adolphus that she might receive more of the narrative, delightsome to herself and evidently interesting to her parent.
Finding the priest at dawn in one of his accustomed walks amid the ruins, she scarcely waited for his “Peace, daughter,” until she exclaimed, “More! I want more of the story!”
“Hast finished that I gave thee so soon?”
“Yes, and read it all to my mother! Is that not wonderful?”
“Temerity!”
“No; it charms her. She has fallen in love with the child-wife. Oh, what if my mother should come to think and believe as you—then I would!”
“Thou mayst alone; but what part of the story desirest thou?”
“All! Nothing less than all! What became of the Holy Family in Egypt?”
“Now sit down on this shattered column and I’ll recount to thee the traditions in order, leaving thee to judge which is true.”
“Tell me what you believe and I’ll believe it. That’s enough!”
“I scarcely am able to do that, not knowing whether to believe or disbelieve some of the things reported. But I remember them, and perceiving that though they are only traditions, they are very beautiful and very natural, I remember them with delight, that is very near to giving them full credence.”
“Then, so will I do.”
“It may be the wise way, for I’ve believed that the good angels who, under God, watched over the little outcast family drifting about in strange places, have also watched over the drifting stories of their wanderings, letting the facts profitable for us to know, come safely to us, though they have come without the seal of authenticated history.”
“Now, I believe all this, too.”
“Well, then, ardent catechumen, listen. For three years the queenly Mary, with her consort and child, tarried in Egypt—”
“How did they subsist?”
“Oh, the God of the outcasts Ishmael and Elijah, who provided water for one and bread for the other of those two, was the One who sent the Holy Family to Egypt with the charge that they ‘be there until He brought them word.’ Now, thou hast learned that when God sends any on His work He charges Himself with their support.”
“Did they find friends in Egypt?”
“Thou wilt learn in time, daughter, that two of that family had, as none on earth before, the secret of making friends. They had the love-enchantment from on high, which has been winning its way ever since over the world. But I’ll proceed. There were in Egypt at that time multitudes of Israelites who had sought its refuge from the persecutions practiced toward them nearer home. Doubtless these exiles received Joseph’s family kindly. Also, in all the East at that time there were many artizan leagues, banded together to aid their fellow-craftsmen. Joseph being a carpenter, I doubt not, found among these sympathy and help.”
“At what place did the family abide?”
“Tradition says they tarried for a considerable period at Heliopolis, the city celebrated the world over for its splendid temple, where centered the Egyptian Sun worship. To me this tradition seems most reasonable, when I remember that the child of that family was pointed out before, by a miraculous star, which led the Fire worshipers of Persia to his cradle. The Fire worshipers of the far East and the Light worshipers of Egypt were much alike in their beliefs. They were all seeking light, and, impelled by the necessity of man’s nature for some religion, revealed or man-made, able to do no better, looked up to the sun, the greatest light of which they knew. God’s hand was in that meeting of the old and the new. There is a tradition that when the Holy Family arrived at Heliopolis all the idols in the Sun Temple fell on their faces. Be that as it may, the pathos of the poor prayers of the Light worshipers moved the Divine Mercy to send them the Sun of Righteousness, and all the handiwork of Rhameses, at On, lies in great, grim silent ruins, while the faith that had its germ in that little outcast family is overspreading the earth. Alas, poor Egypt!”
“Why poor Egypt?” questioned Miriamne, wonderingly.
“Those living now are so like their ancients who, in fright and helpless doubt, sought to save themselves by placating both good and evil; the light struggles in Egypt to-day, entering slowly and often retiring. Yea, poor Egypt, I pity thee! But I digress. It is said that the Holy Family also tarried for a season at Memphis, on the Nile, the city where chiefly was practiced the worship of Apis, the sacred bull. Thou rememberest how Israel was nearly ruined by doing homage to a golden calf at Sinai? That calf-worship was the same as the Apis-worship of Egypt. The Egyptians, in common with all mankind of old, earnestly looked for a manifestation of God in visible form—an incarnation. Their priests practiced on their pitiful yearnings and credulity, and taught them to believe that their greatest god appeared from time to time under the form of a bull, which Avatars they, the priests, claimed that they only could discover. The Egyptians, highly esteeming endurance and passionate vigor, readily accepted the animal pre-eminent in these things as the abiding place and expression of their god. The Child Jesus, the token of a better faith, was fittingly brought, therefore, to Egypt’s Temple of Apis. Thus the Light and Immortality confronted that typified grossly at Memphis, and the incarnations that were as false as they were offensive, were brought face to face with the Incarnation sung by the angels. The devotees at the fanes of Memphis degraded man by preferring the beast. He that made man a little lower than the angels first, afterward exalted him to sonship by appearing garbed in the likeness of a man. Christ, at Memphis, was to do what Moses did at Sinai.”
“I do not comprehend these words!”
“As Moses ground the golden image worshiped by Israel to powder, so Christ came to overthrow and blot out of the world every vestige of the religions or believings that exalts the animal and degrades the spiritual in man. He heralded the age of gold and fire.”
“And was Apis overthrown by the child?”
“Not immediately; that is not the way of Him who knows no haste; but in His own good time its fall came. Egypt, hoar with deep thinkings on the master problems of life, death, eternity, did much in distant times to color and express the beliefs of all peoples. It became a school of religious as well as the theater of some of their greatest, bloodiest conflicts. Let me recall some of the steps. First, I’ll begin with the revival of the true faith under Moses, which was the revival of escape, the only way to preserve God’s people from utter defilement. Thou hast read in thy Holy writings how the conflict began between the king and Israel’s leader:
And Pharaoh called for Moses and for Aaron, and said, Go ye, sacrifice to your God in the land.
And Moses said, It is not meet so to do; for we shall sacrifice the abomination of the Egyptians to the Lord our God: lo, shall we sacrifice the abomination of the Egyptians before their eyes, and will they not stone us?
We will go three days journey into the wilderness, and sacrifice to the Lord our God, as he shall command us.”
“Why was Moses so anxious to get away so far!”
“I’ll show thee; that was then a mystery, now explained. Egypt worshiped a bull devoutly; the Israelites were commanded to sacrifice to God a red heifer. The color, red, was an antetype of the saving blood to be shed on red Calvary. Moses, methinks, desired to get away that he might reveal this sacred mystery, so far as he discerned it, to those to whom it was sent. Follow me now with pious, frank heart. The Israelites antagonized the customs of Egypt sharply by offering before God the finer, weaker animal, and now, girl, as I read of Mary and her child waiting about Memphis, I discern the past and that present meeting. It seems to me that He who thundered to Pharaoh ‘let my people go’ rëappears in the form of the child, the pitying shepherd, seeking the lost sheep amid earth’s offscourings. More, as I think of Mary, the beautiful outcast, following the fortunes of her Divine Child down into that dark land, and also remember how His blood finally crimsoned her life, I recall the red heifer offered on Israel’s ancient altars. Mary, for the world’s sake, through her maternity, was laid on the altar.”
“Father Adolphus, you dazzle and yet convince me. How wonderful all this seems!”
“I see the Holy Child in Egypt, the building nation of earth, as the founder of a new order of building. Now follow me, child. After the garden and the wilds, where primitive man abode, there came the Tabernacle and Temple. When man enters into the benign influences of social life, he begins building a house to shelter and seclude his own. When he takes God or a god into his society he builds a temple. If there be growth and culture he decorates his buildings, hideously at first, æsthetically after practice. Presently he becomes a scientific builder and a philosopher. Then to him life is all building. He grasps the thought that he is the architect of himself, of his character, of his future. If his religious life is deepened he expresses all his philosophy, all his aspirations in monuments and temples. Moses and Solomon, in tabernacle and temple, but repeated the deeds of Egypt. But Egypt built under the sun, the patriarchs under the Spirit. Egypt had done its best, reached the end of its resources, having filled the land from the Delta to the cataracts of the Nile with pyramidial monument and august fanes. But building under the sun, in the light of nature only, was building in the dark, at least half the time. Christ, the architect of all that is enduring, confronted the achievements of those ancients as a merciful destroyer. He came to them to turn and overturn that, after the ruins, their mind be turned to a building upon and with the precious living Corner-Stone! Try to remember all this. Christianity is on the eve of a new building age. The crusades are ended. Now for religious palaces! But these in turn will be thrust aside, that all may give themselves to build souls up for eternity!”
“I am dazzled good father, indeed; but oh, I can not remember all these things! I’m like a child in my love for stories, and I can re-tell such to my mother, as I can not these deeper things you utter.”
“I forgot, child. But we priests preach by habit everywhere!”
“Tell me more of Mary and Joseph and Jesus. Were the Egyptians kind to them?”
“As kind as the followers of the Pharaohs to the descendants of Joseph! No more. There was no more room in Egypt for Jesus at His coming than there was among His own people. But the God of Moses, ever the living God, though opposed, may never be thwarted nor killed!”
“Oh, now do not tell me these things, too deep for me; just tell me the simple story of the sojourn in that strange land.”
“So be it, girl. If I digress, recall me. They say that the Holy Family found in that land a few to accept them kindly. One such was a robber, who, happening upon them, was at first about to do them violence; but he was restrained by the demeanor of the saintly mother, and his heart was all changed toward compassion of the little company. Instead of robbing, he gave them a temporary home in his mountain retreat. It is said that he was the one to whom the child of Mary, long after, while dying on the cross, companion in death with that same robber, gave repentance, with the promise of Paradise.”
“How good and natural!”
“Then there’s another legend. It is that Mary and her loved ones were met in that strange country by one of the world’s pilgrims of pilgrims—a gipsy, who was a sorceress. There’s a charming little dialogue, part in prose and part in verse, all about that meeting, which I have here. I’ll read it. The sorceress begins chanting:
“‘The gipsy, Zingarella, took the babe in her arms, but then suddenly broke forth into a mournful chant, as she held the hand of the infant:
“‘And then suddenly falling upon her knees, the gipsy asked alms; but this time, as never before, with both palms extended and craving neither silver nor gold, but eternal life. It was granted.’”
“Oh, father Adolphus, I’ll never forget this story.”
“Forget not, either, its simple lesson; the gospel comes to the very waifs of life, and so there is help for the sinning, wherever found, in the Holy Child; encouragement to all holy longings in the meanest breast of the meanest woman, once within that circle, all radiant with the beautiful virtues of that Saviour’s mother.”
“Surely, I’ll treasure this lesson, which is both balm and heart’s ease.”
“I must go now, so must thou. I’ll send at noon to the Reservoir, another parchment. Let one of the lads meet the messenger. It will be suitable for reading to thy mother, Rizpah. Be not so soon over-hopeful. We must proceed with her slowly. Those most needing the light will curse it if, coming too suddenly, it chance to dazzle. Israel still goes down all unconsciously to Egypt for gods, and the spectacle of man changing the invisible down, down, continues everywhere. Slowly, we who would be faithful, must raise up His only true presentment. We must allure after us, with all wisdom and tenderness, those we would win, while striving ourselves to rise toward Divine ideals ever beyond and above us. God bless my little missionary.”
They parted; and there were tears on Miriamne’s face; but not of anguish.
CHAPTER XXII.
THE SHADOW OF THE CROSS.
“Mother, I’ve another volume of that charming story, full of wonderful things. Shall we peruse them to please our woman’s curiosity, to-night?”
“Woman’s curiosity?” angrily ejaculated Rizpah.
“They say all women are inquisitive; do they not?”
“They! The fling of the ‘lords of earth!’ Eaten up with anxiety solely concerning themselves, they plunge into introspections and questionings pertaining to their own worth; the ultimate of their own preciousness, that they call philosophy. Our sex, in self-forgetfulness, ask questions out of sympathy, and with desire to help others; that’s ‘curiosity!’ Faugh, the fling is sickening!”
“My book is both curious and philosophical; it’s interesting to both sexes therefore. Shall I read?”
“On thy promise to tell me later whence it came, who its author, thou mayst read it to me.”
Miriamne, perceiving that her mother was curious to hear the whole story, though the former placated her conscience by a show of indifference, responded: “I’ll begin with the return of the wanderers.” So saying, she read:
“‘But when Herod was dead, behold, an angel of the Lord appeareth in a dream to Joseph in Egypt, saying, arise, and take the young child and his mother, and go into the land of Israel: for they are dead which sought the young child’s life.
“‘And he arose, and took the young child and his mother, and came into the land of Israel.
“‘Being warned of God in a dream, he turned aside into the parts of Galilee:
“‘And he came and dwelt in a city called Nazareth: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophets. He shall be called a Nazarene.’”
“Nazarene!” Rizpah ejaculated, interrupting the reader. “Does the word not taste like wormwood, girl?”
The maiden replied, adroitly: “We read the pagan inscriptions on the monuments about us without being harmed! Surely we may safely read these nobler peoples’ words and deeds.” So saying, the maiden continued:
“‘Now his parents went to Jerusalem every year at the feast of the passover.
“‘And when He was twelve years old, they went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the feast.
“‘And when they had fulfilled the days, as they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and His mother knew not of it.
“‘But they, supposing Him to have been in the company, went a day’s journey; and they sought Him among their kinsfolk and acquaintance.
“‘And when they found Him not, they turned back again to Jerusalem, seeking Him.
“‘And it came to pass that after three days they found Him in the temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions.
“‘And all that heard Him were astonished at His understanding and answers.
“‘And when they saw Him, they were amazed: and His mother said unto Him, Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? Behold, Thy father and I have sought Thee sorrowing.
“‘And He said unto them, How is it that ye sought me? Wist ye not that I must be about my Father’s business?’”
“That was rude, was it not, daughter? Was not his father’s business his mother’s? He was young for such philosophy, so like that of tyrant husband.”
“He meant God’s business!”
“Then his earnestness was just. God first, kin after—mother or husband—say I. Did the mother gain-say him?”
“It is thus recorded,” replied the maiden.
“‘And they understood not the saying which He spake unto them.
“‘And he went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them; but his mother kept all these sayings in her heart.
“‘And He increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.’”
“Daughter, there was a fine spirit in that house; it was enhaloed by the girl-wife’s character! No wonder that the son increased in favor with God and man! He was able to cope with the doctors mentally, yet subjected himself to his mother. I’ll certify that he was wonderfully like his mother. The traits of the woman that bore him are prominent in every man of fine measure.”
“And are fine daughters, like their fathers,” laughingly questioned Miriamne, as she glanced at a reflection of herself in a metallic mirror suspended on the wall before her.
“Ah, that depends on whether they have wholesome fathers.” Then, turning her eyes affectionately toward her daughter, Rizpah continued: “Thou hast enough of Hebrew in thee to leaven thee. Yet, let me plant this in thy memory, my lamb, destined most likely some time to lie in anguish on the altar of maternity: Mothers determine beyond all else the fate of the world by determining beyond all else the characters of their offspring. Yea, girl, in the homes of industry, the bugle-calls of the soldier, the moving orations of the holy teacher, there are ever heard echoes of their cradle days.” Rizpah paused, drew a long sigh, and again broke forth: “But, alas! men and women walk in pairs. How can the gentler of the two, alone, or opposed by the stronger, succeed? I’ve seen paired birds battle the sly serpent, creeping toward their birdlings, victoriously; paired weakness triumphant over huge danger; and I’ve seen the lords of creation dropping serpents upon their own mates and their own nestlings! If one would find a monstrous cruelty, he must needs seek in human homes!” Then the speaker, pausing, bowed herself, and sat swaying from side to side, with her hands over her eyes. Miriamne, accustomed to such action on her mother’s part, and knowing it was best when she was in such moods to leave her to herself, withdrew quietly. Yet, Rizpah seemed not alone to herself, for her mind was peopled with ghostly forms from her gloomy past; all painful companions, but still courted by the woman in her periods of morbidness. Presently she slept; the sleep of sorrow, that mercy balm of nature which comes to pained or wounded humanity as the power to grieve or ache is exhausted. The sleeper passed from consciousness of things about her, followed by the forms that had haunted her memory, and was soon among the wonders of dream land. Then came to her the sound of mighty contentions, and it seemed as if opposing forces were in conflict concerning herself. Rizpah, of the ancient, seemed to be trying to drag the dreamer toward seven crosses supporting seven stark forms. The babel of contending voices was silenced by others, exulting, as if in victory. There was a change; the sleeper seemed to be lifted up from caverns unutterably deep, and suffocating, upon a ruby cloud, soft as down to the touch, but irresistible in uplifting. She was borne swiftly, over vast realms of space, toward a golden gate-way with tomb-like arch, whose cross-shaped portal swung invitingly open. A river of light spreading to a sea, and vibrating with sense-entrancing melody, flowed outward through the mighty gate-way. On either side of the portals, and moving along the river, were many glorious beings. The latter soared on wings of mighty sweep, whose motions seemed to beat in accord with the melody of the flowing light, while, from within and without the gate-way, there came the sound of countless voices, all, as it were, mingling in the triumphant swellings of a grand anthem. The dreamer discerned in the anthem two words, repeated over and over, tirelessly: “Glad Tidings!” “Glad Tidings!” “Glad Tidings!” The golden gate became rose-tinted; the color deepening to purple and gold as down the stream of light there floated an island of gardens, and on the island appeared two human forms; a youth and a maiden. The anthem “Glad Tidings” continued; but sweeter, louder, deeper than before. And the sleeper perceived that on the wings of the glorious beings there were emblems; red crosses, about each cross a ring of fire; above the crosses, bejeweled silver cups; then she knew that the twain on the island were bride and groom. The scene changed; there was a consciousness of a flight of time. She looked again, and on the island she beheld a mother lovingly bending over a babe; over mother and babe tenderly bended a man, by the pride and the affection he expressed, attesting himself the husband and father. Rizpah was enraptured, and in her dream she prayed the scene might tarry. She was nigh being envious of that happy mother. But her prayer was denied her, for soon she was startled by a voice at her side, saying, in tones of mournful rebuke: “Farewell, forever!”
The dreamer, looking about, beheld in her vision, her ideal, Rizpah; but the latter was wonderfully changed. Her eyes were dim and sunken; her form dwarfed, bowed and age-shriveled. Suddenly the whole vision faded into thin air, and Rizpah, of Bozrah, awakened filled with condemnation. Before she fully realized that she had been dreaming, she cried out:
“Rizpah, oh, Rizpah, tarry a moment!”
Silence was her sole reply. Little by little, as she collected her thoughts, she comprehended that her vision, while sleeping, expressed the facts of her life while waking. The heroine girl-wife of Nazareth, the newer, finer, surer, truer ideal of womanhood, was demolishing in the mind of the woman of Bozrah her former idol, the lioness of Gibeah’s hill. She knew this, for she found herself contrasting the two ideals, and in mind lingering by preference and with the greater delight about conceptions of the younger. Then began the struggles of the giants in her conscience; clean truth against hoar prejudices; sweet mercy against bitter revenge; Mary of Bethlehem against Rizpah of Gibeah. The matron of Bozrah, usually hitherto so self-sufficient, was changing. She felt that yearning inevitable in the career of most women for a confidant. She could not sleep; she could not now go down to get inspiration by standing before the grim Rizpah-painting, in the lower room; she was miserable, lonely and restless.
Mechanically, she moved toward her daughter’s chamber, some way feeling that even a sleeper would be company to one so lonely as herself. Rizpah, alone, at night, in the grim, giant house, groping her way toward Miriamne’s sleeping place, was unconsciously illustrating her soul’s quest. She was in heart seeking alone, and in the dark, some one to take the place of her demolished ideal. Had the queen of women been there, in person, Rizpah, then, would have welcomed her. She groped her way to the maiden’s couch, feeling that, as she believed, her daughter was pure and good and loving. Could the matron have analyzed her own feelings, she would have found that she was in part led toward Miriamne because the latter some way seemed like, or near to, the girl-wife who was supplanting in the heart of Rizpah of Bozrah, the wild Rizpah of Gibeah. A cloud passing let a flood of silvering moonlight full on the sleeper’s couch, and Rizpah, feasting her eyes, murmured: “I wonder if that woman of Bethlehem were not very like this maiden?” As the mother gazed on her offspring she presently began noting features in the sleeper’s face that reminded her of the absent father and husband. She recalled him as he appeared under the palms that night at Purim, and as he was that day he lay pale and bleeding in her all-giving arms. The whole past, that was delightful, came trooping up, and with it there came the full light of an old love revived; a renaissance of that she had supposed buried forever. Soon the aged woman, all youthful again within, was mentally in hot chase after the pleasure she had parted from so hastily long years before. She was glad of her thoughts, for they were rejoicing; glad she was alone, for the thoughts seemed sacred. It was no use, had she willed, to resist; so she just gave up to the impulse, and with a half-suppressed cry, passionately twined her arms about the sleeping girl, and covered the face of the latter with burning kisses.
The maiden started up in affright, breaking the spell that swayed her mother, but only in part at first. Rizpah was almost angered by the awakening, which caused the vision her soul was embracing to take swift flight. Her first glance seemed to say to the now awakened girl: “Begone, intruder! Leave me for a time alone with—” but she recovered herself, and was silent. Yet her mind ran on after the vision. She had not been embracing the girl, but the girl’s father, in heart. Had he happened there then, he would have been all-forgiven, all-welcome. So wonderful the heart of one capable of deep loving as well as deep hating; so wonderful the nature of such a woman as Rizpah, when her emotions, aroused, spread their throbbing pinions to soar at the behest of revived affection. “Human passion,” sneeringly some may say, and truly. But human passion is a gift of grace. When it travels along right lines, it quickens the one enriched by it to the noblest deeds. He whose name is Love came to earth through the Incarnation to show the splendor of human affection, working at its best in the kingdom of its finest displays—the home circle. The fate of Eden made men believe a lie, but Bethlehem refuted that lie for all time. Rizpah turned bitterly from the fiery, disappointing love she had experienced to stamp all loving, except parent love, a mockery. She had nursed her false creed, and suppressed her rebel heart by adoration of the wintry ideal of Gibeah. Now she was touched by a new influence, and it was to her as the touch of spring to winter-prisoned nature. For a few moments daughter and mother contemplated each other; the one as if dreaming, the other full of wilderment. Then the former quietly said: “I’ve been very nervous to-night. I’m quieter now, and will go to rest. Sweet dreams follow thee, daughter.”
The maiden composed herself to sleep, and the elder woman passed out of the room. The latter, in going, perceived on the floor-slab a parchment, and bore it away with her. She said within herself as she did so: “It is best for Miriamne that I know of her reading.” But, after all, she was very curious to know all about the new matter, of which she had recently heard a part, on her own account. The writing, that of a masculine hand, ran as follows: