Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-01-26
Continued From Last Sunday.J
WRITTEN FOR THE DISPATCH

| the Sadducee, with Lazarus his builder, the
| Pharisee, if he so much as took the proud
name of Zahara upon his lips? Truly as .
slave is hurled from his masters presence,
so would the father of Zahara deal with the
man whose Yeriest shadow should fall across
barriers dearer to Jewish convention than
| life ITSELF Annas was the aristocrat Of
society and of theology; Lazarus, the bour-
| geois and dissenter. Nay, the very wealth,
position, influence of the builder were
., likely to be sources of ofense to the patri-
clan. Better were it for Lazarus if he came
like beggar, with 'help but God" Gas his
name did ready, and sat upon the palace
stairs, the High Priest would have regarded
him as a properly classified person who
knew his place and kept 1t, flung him q
| handful of coin, and observed him no more
than the ass that brought the packs Of
proVender at the bidding of the slaves.
Who knew? A man might snatch the girl
at such vantage and away with her.
Lazarus checked his feVerish walk, threw
himself upon a rug, and in the PROSTATE po-
sition dear to Oriental emotion hid his face
and battled with himself. Lazarus was con-
founded at his own condition. Within him
self he found a foreign enemy; he felt him
self unlearned in the tactics of a strange
war. He was not ready to yield, but he
knew not how to fight. He did not even
| give the name OF Love to his swift and over
| Thelming passion. He called it Zahara,
and studied it no more.
! 81 shall see her tomorrow" he thought;
then he remembered that be might never see
her any morrow.
"But shallP' he cried: "But willp'
Then he bethought him that shall and
will were helpless slaves in the hopeless sit
uatlOn. He was accustomed to doing as he
chose. He had not been thwarted before.
He had had his way. He now began to un-
| derstand that he had never really worked
for anything until this hour. Human de-
sire, a wild creature unclaimed, sprang
upon him; be felt like a person wrestling
with claws and teeth.
At intervals he repeated her name aloud:
"Zaharal Zahara!'
! The very sound Of it seemed to him to
scintillate. What gorgeous namel
"Zahara, the Bright One. Zahara, the
Shining. 1 worship thee, here in my dark
room, Zahara," whispered Lazarus.
As he lay there PROSTATE with his face
| upon his arms, light and timid sound
aroused him. 1t was the voice of Mary, his
sister, in the court beyond his doors.
"Art thou i'll, my brother?'
Nay, then, my sister, am WELL"
"Comest thou not forth that may speak
with thee?"
SIS it a matter of import?" demanded
Lazarus
TT can wait, said Mary gently. ST would
not lntrude upon thee"
Thou hast not the soul of the intruder"
replied Lazarus with the hearty voice Of
| one coming cordially from the reyeries of
passion to the realities of home. Mary could
do as she would with Lazarus. He aroused
himself and came outside the court; Mary
was alone; it was late, cool evening; the
brother and sister sat down upon the near
est rug, and settled themselves comfortably,
Mary looked at Lazarus, but not keenIY;
her eyes were gentle and sweet. He met
their gaze with strange sense of irresponsi-
bic guilt. He thought-'Mary would not
understand. Mary could not understand
II have somewhat 10 say unto thee" be-
gan Mary, timidly, "Martha would have
spoken of the matter, but thou repelledst
her,"
martha annoyed me-" said Lazarus
shortly. Thou never dost that"
''He hath been here, said Mary with IN.
wonted sbruptness.
"He?-Here? Thou meanest-"
Whom could I meaL? We know but
One, replied Mary graVely. ''The Master
hath visited u.s.
SIN my absenee?"
I'm thine absence. He remained with rs
until the twelfth hour; we pressed him %
tarrY further, but he would not, though
Martha made ready the upper chamber and
said many words to him-he departed. He
remained not.
Lazarus was silent moment.
IF thou hadst been here, observed MaryI
''I think ne would have tarried."
II am sorry" avowed Lazarus.
"Why, Of coursel" cried Mary with mora
than usual spirit. 1t seemed to her as II
there were singular lack of animation in
her brothers tone and manner Did he ex.
hlbit the scorching grief she expected, or
only tender regret?
Lazarus" she said, with something like
reproach, Nearer and dearer to him than
thyself he hath but one other friend among
all that name the name of his disciples, and
that thou knowest"
'Thou speakest Of John the fisherman.
and thou speakest truly, Mary. The Mas
ter loveth him."
"And thee And thee, likewise, LazarusI
His own lips have said it. His own deed
hath proved it 1t seems to me that thou
speakest cOldly of him.
"God forbid p cried Lazarus. starting.
ST have not wavered. IT any may be loYat
to him and his cause I am the man. Ny
heart can never chill toward him."
But as he spoke the words a feeling al
most of terror came over Lazarus. With
the sudden warming of this strong and
splendid flame which that day within his
nature had shot ire-would other feeling
cool by hot comparison2 Was it possible
that he, Lazarus, beloved OF one on whom
the hopes of the race were hanging, tenderly
selected by that sweet and supreme nature to
the afectionate attitude Of intimate friend
was 1t possible that Lazarus could forget the
Messiah of his people, the Jesus of his per.
sonal royalty, for the glance of girls eve
but yesterday unknown?
1T grieVeth me, said Lazarus, peni.
tently, "it grieveth me that saw him not
How seemed he? What said he?''
"Worn," answered Mary, sadly, "woru
and pale; his countenanee hath a trans
parent look, and his step betokens a great
WEAKNESS. Verify, Lazarus, the sight went
to my heart"
"What said hep" pursued Lazarus, with
increasing sympathy.
"His words were few" replied Mary. in
q tone of awe. His words were fev-and
precious"
"Canst thou not recall them for me, my
sister,"
NAY, my brother, it Is as if tried TO re-
call the rustling of the wings of cherubim
sound that bore my soul above my body; Of
words fear can tell thee but too few. Il
ever seemeth to me an unbecoming thing to
take his words upon ones lips unvarilv'5'
"Of what did he discourse, then? If fthou
Venturess not to quote his language, for
which indeed do commend thee Mary,
and better were It for him If every one of
our number had 80 wise . conscience. we
have tongues too many and too easy, In ouS
flock. I have myself admired his oWl