The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-05-15

led-the Jews would follow their
young prophet let our forces be COM
bined and we would be irresistible.
For the first time in my twenty years
of Roman service L asked the Emperor
for leave of absence. 1t was granted
with much favor, and l embarked for
Jerusalem with all the pomp and pag-
eantry that the empire could bestow
upon favorite and on my arrival at
Jerusalem l was received with equal
honors
Truly, rumor had spoken Alright,
for from all Galllee and Judea came
throngs to see and hear the wonderful
speaker. When l saw that / eXulted
within myself and blessed my tails
man for having brought me power in
the person of such an ally. My success
l considered already assured, for there
remained only the easiest part of my
scheme-the winning to my side of the
young Jewish leader. no accomplish
this purpose l followed the throng
one morning out of the city, to the
mountain, whittier He had gone for rest
with a few of His chosen followers.
The people followed Him everywhere;
and when | reached the place, l found
Him addressing multitude SO vast that
l marVelled how all could hear Him,
but His voice had a soft, vibrant
quality that fioated into ones ears like
music, and, though / stood afar off, l
lost none of the discourse. He spoke
as l had never heard man speak. AS
l listened. my passion and hatred
melted away.
mo words of mine can describe the
sweetness and love that shone In that
Visage, and my soul was satisfied, for
the words of wisdom that fell from His
lips, the doctrine of universal love,
was what / sought for in vain In the
| Druid religion. The Jews were mis-
| taken in this Man. Were these the
words of an earthly conqueror? Love
| your enemies, do good to them that
| hate you: For If you will not forgive,
| neither will your Father that is in
| heaven, forgive your offenses. Blessed
| are the merciful, for they shall OBJ
| tain mercy At the sound of these
| words, so simple, yet so sublime, / felt
horror of my mission. To speak to
| Him of temporal conquest or revenge
| would be a sacrilege. His teaching
would prevail throughout the earth,
| for had not the stars foreshown it?
| Thus light had come to my mind and !
was about to throw myself at His feet
| and asked to be taken as one of His
| disciples, when l thought of my prom
| Use to Divitiacus. Until men should
| cease to love wisdom, wealth and
power 1 was fated to roam the earth.
| Saddened at heart I turned away, COM
| forting myself with this reflection: 1t
will not be long, for He teaches men
| to be not solicitouS for the things of
life'
| II could not wait, so sailed back to
| Rome and rendered my resignation as
commander, urging age and i'll health
| as my reason for quitting the army.
| But, alas the hopes that | had built
| on my own change of sentiment were
! shattered by the news that the Son
of Man, as He called Himself the Re-
| deemer, had been put to death by the
| Jews whom he had come to save.
Soul-sick and disheartened through
the years that followed, l offered the
| gifts to different men in different
climes, and none refused to barter
their souls for them. Strange! that in
| all these years never did l meet on
that fateful Night of Sacrifice, a fol-
lower of Him whose disciple l wished
to proclaim myself to Judea. Was it
the avenging spirit If Divitiacus that
| placed in my path only those who
would accept my gifts, knowing that
the followers of the Christ would re-
| fuse, and by refusing end the power
of Efus on earth forever?
| "One who has passed only a fraction
of the average human life, cannot un-
| derstand what an awful experience Il
| is to live on with no hope of rest. l
| lived in the broad light of ancient
| civilization. i saw 1t fade until its
faint CLEAN shone only through the
monasteries of the Middle Ages, and
watched its flfckeTing rays grow
| brighter until 1t outshone it's former
radiance. l sickened of fame, tired
of wealth, and wisdom only taught me
the hollowness of my earthly possess
sions. l who have lived while nations
have been born and have passed into
history-while history itself of the
| worlds greatest ages has been made
know all too well that the God, who al
| lotted man a certain time TO live, did
as He does all things, in wisdom and
mercy l travelled among all nations,
| learned all tongues-many Of them
are dead while / still survive-but
| everywhere / found men the same.
| My time is short and you need rest.
l will not weary you further. This,
then. is my pitiful story. Until to-
night no one has refused my gifts, and
you know what cause l have to be
joyful. To you I owe much. May the
God who does all things we'll reward
you. | can say no more-I am thank
| full, Farewell! At last, o Efus! thy
power is at an end. o Divitiacus,
my uncle, my protector, my friend!
shall we ever meet agan?"
The luminous halo grew fainter and
fainter, until at last the figure of the
old man was swallowed up in the
gloom. My mind was in a perfect tur-
moil with the marvellous things / had
witnessed and the weird tale had lis
tened to- For several hours | lay
awake waiting for the dawn, but tired
nature, oVertaxed by the strain of the
events of the night, claimed it's due,
and day dawned before l realized
that l had slept
When I stepped out of my bed 1
found that I could use my injured feet
as well as ever. 'It must have been
a dream" ] said to myself. Yet it was
with no small anxiety that / opened
the door leading to the adjoining
chamber. 1t was a small, rough room,
In the corner on rude couch lay the
old man covered with a sheepskin-
a striking contrast to the white robe
l had half expected to find He ap-
peared to be sleeping, and l smiled at
my belief in what must have been a
hallucination; but as i advanced
toward the bed the smile died on my
face. His eyes were closed look of
| peace comnosed his placid features