Homo Sum — Complete

  CHAPTER II.

  High above the ravine where the spring was lay a level plateau ofmoderate extent, and behind it rose a fissured cliff of bare, red-brownporphyry. A vein of diorite of iron-hardness lay at its foot like agreen ribbon, and below this there opened a small round cavern, hollowedand arched by the cunning hand of nature. In former times wild beasts,panthers or wolves, had made it their home; it now served as a dwellingfor young Hermas and his father.

  Many similar caves were to be found in the holy Fountain, and otheranchorites had taken possession of the larger ones among them.

  That of Stephanus was exceptionally high and deep, and yet the space wasbut small which divided the two beds of dried mountain herbs where, onone, slept the father, and on the other, the son.

  It was long past midnight, but neither the younger nor the eldercave-dweller seemed to be sleeping. Hermas groaned aloud and threwhimself vehemently from one side to the other without any considerationfor the old man who, tormented with pain and weakness, sorely neededsleep. Stephanus meanwhile denied himself the relief of turning over orof sighing, when he thought he perceived that his more vigorous son hadfound rest.

  "What could have robbed him of his rest, the boy who usually slept sosoundly, and was so hard to waken?"

  "Whence comes it," thought Stephanus, "that the young and strong sleepso soundly and so much, and the old, who need rest, and even the sick,sleep so lightly and so little. Is it that wakefulness may prolong thelittle term of life, of which they dread the end? How is it that manclings so fondly to this miserable existence, and would fain slink away,and hide himself when the angel calls and the golden gates open beforehim! We are like Saul, the Hebrew, who hid himself when they came tohim with the crown! My wound burns painfully; if only I had a drink ofwater. If the poor child were not so sound asleep I might ask him forthe jar."

  Stephanus listened to his son and would not wake him, when he heard hisheavy and regular breathing. He curled himself up shivering under thesheep-skin which covered only half his body, for the icy night windnow blew through the opening of the cave, which by day was as hot as anoven.

  Some long minutes wore away; at last he thought he perceived that Hermashad raised himself. Yes, the sleeper must have wakened, for he began tospeak, and to call on the name of God.

  The old man turned to his son and began softly, "Do you hear me, myboy?"

  "I cannot sleep," answered the youth.

  "Then give me something to drink," asked Stephanus, "my wound burnsintolerably."

  Hermas rose at once, and reached the water-jar to the sufferer.

  "Thanks, thanks, my child," said the old man, feeling for the neck ofthe jar. But he could not find it, and exclaimed with surprise: "Howdamp and cold it is--this is clay, and our jar was a gourd."

  "I have broken it," interrupted Hermas, "and Paulus lent me his."

  "Well, well," said Stephanus anxious for drink; he gave the jar back tohis son, and waited till he had stretched himself again on his couch.Then he asked anxiously: "You were out a long time this evening, thegourd is broken, and you groaned in your sleep. Whom did you meet?"

  "A demon of hell," answered Hermas. "And now the fiend pursues me intoour cave, and torments me in a variety of shapes."

  "Drive it out then and pray," said the old man gravely. "Unclean spiritsflee at the name of God."

  "I have called upon Him," sighed Hermas, "but in vain; I see women withruddy lips and flowing Hair, and white marble figures with rounded limbsand flashing eyes beckon to me again and again."

  "Then take the scourge," ordered the father, "and so win peace."

  Hermas once more obediently rose, and went out into the air with thescourge; the narrow limits of the cave did not admit of his swinging itwith all the strength of his arms.

  Very soon Stephanus heard the whistle of the leathern thongs through thestillness of the night, their hard blows on the springy muscles of theman and his son's painful groaning.

  At each blow the old man shrank as if it had fallen on himself. At lasthe cried as loud as he was able "Enough--that is enough."

  Hermas came back into the cave, his father called him to his couch, anddesired him to join with him in prayer.

  After the 'Amen' he stroked the lad's abundant hair and said, "Sinceyou went to Alexandria, you have been quite another being. I would I hadwithstood bishop Agapitus, and forbidden you the journey. Soon, I know,my Saviour will call me to himself, and no one will keep you here; thenthe tempter will come to you, and all the splendors of the great city,which after all only shine like rotten wood, like shining snakes andpoisonous purple-berries--"

  "I do not care for them," interrupted Hermas, "the noisy placebewildered and frightened me. Never, never will I tread the spot again."

  "So you have always said," replied Stephanus, "and yet the journey quitealtered you. How often before that I used to think when I heard youlaugh that the sound must surely please our Father in Heaven. And now?You used to be like a singing bird, and now you go about silent, youlook sour and morose, and evil thoughts trouble your sleep."

  "That is my loss," answered Hermas. "Pray let go of my hand; the nightwill soon be past, and you have the whole live-long day to lecture mein." Stephanus sighed, and Hermas returned to his couch.

  Sleep avoided them both, and each knew that the other was awake, andwould willingly have spoken to him, but dissatisfaction and defianceclosed the son's lips, and the father was silent because he could notfind exactly the heart-searching words that he was seeking.

  At last it was morning, a twilight glimmer struck through the opening ofthe cave, and it grew lighter and lighter in the gloomy vault; the boyawoke and rose yawning. When he saw his father lying with his eyes open,he asked indifferently, "Shall I stay here or go to morning worship?"

  "Let us pray here together," begged the father. "Who knows how long itmay yet be granted to us to do so? I am not far from the day that noevening ever closes. Kneel down here, and let me kiss the image of theCrucified."

  Hermas did as his father desired him, and as they were ending their songof praise, a third voice joined in the 'Amen.'

  "Paulus!" cried the old man. "The Lord be praised! pray look to mywound then. The arrow head seeks to work some way out, and it burnsfearfully."

  "The new comer, an anchorite, who for all clothing wore a shirt-shapedcoat of brown undressed linen, and a sheep-skin, examined the woundcarefully, and laid some herbs on it, murmuring meanwhile some pioustexts.

  "That is much easier," sighed the old man. "The Lord has mercy on me foryour goodness' sake."

  "My goodness? I am a vessel of wrath," replied Paulus, with a deep,rich; sonorous voice, and his peculiarly kind blue eyes were raised toheaven as if to attest how greatly men were deceived in him. Then hepushed the bushy grizzled hair, which hung in disorder over his neck andface, out of his eyes, and said cheerfully: "No man is more than man,and many men are less. In the ark there were many beasts, but only oneNoah."

  "You are the Noah of our little ark," replied Stephanus.

  "Then this great lout here is the elephant," laughed Paulus.

  "You are no smaller than he," replied Stephanus.

  "It is a pity this stone roof is so low, else we might have measuredourselves," said Paulus. "Aye! if Hermas and I were as pious and pure aswe are tall and strong, we should both have the key of paradise in ourpockets. You were scourging yourself this night, boy; I heard the blows.It is well; if the sinful flesh revolts, thus we may subdue it."

  "He groaned heavily and could not sleep," said Stephanus.

  "Aye, did he indeed!" cried Paulus to the youth, and held his powerfularms out towards him with clenched fists; but the threatening voice wasloud rather than terrible, and wild as the exceptionally big man lookedin his sheepskin, there was such irresistible kindliness in his gazeand in his voice, that no one could have believed that his wrath was inearnest.

  "Fiends of hell had met him," said Stephanus in excuse for his son, "andI should not have clo
sed an eye even without his groaning; it is thefifth night."

  "But in the sixth," said Paulus, "sleep is absolutely necessary. Put onyour sheep-skin, Hermas; you must go down to the oasis to the SenatorPetrus, and fetch a good sleeping-draught for our sick man from him orfrom Dame Dorothea, the deaconess. Just look! the youngster has reallythought of his father's breakfast--one's own stomach is a good reminder.Only put the bread and the water down here by the couch; while you aregone I will fetch some fresh--now, come with me."

  "Wait a minute, wait," cried Stephanus. "Bring a new jar with you fromthe town, my son. You lent us yours yesterday, Paulus, and I must--"

  "I should soon have forgotten it," interrupted the other. "I have tothank the careless fellow, for I have now for the first time discoveredthe right way to drink, as long as one is well and able. I would nothave the jar back for a measure of gold; water has no relish unless youdrink it out of the hollow of your hand! The shard is yours. I should bewarring against my own welfare, if I required it back. God be praised!the craftiest thief can now rob me of nothing save my sheepskin."

  Stephanus would have thanked him, but he took Hermas by the hand, andled him out into the open air. For some time the two men walked insilence over the clefts and boulders up the mountain side. When they hadreached a plateau, which lay on the road that led from the sea over themountain into the oasis, he turned to the youth, and said:

  "If we always considered all the results of our actions there would beno sins committed."

  Hermas looked at him enquiringly, and Paulus went on, "If it hadoccurred to you to think how sorely your poor father needed sleep, youwould have lain still this night."

  "I could not," said the youth sullenly. "And you know very well that Iscourged myself hard enough."

  "That was quite right, for you deserved a flogging for a misconductedboy."

  Hermas looked defiantly at his reproving friend, the flaming colormounted to his cheek: for he remembered the shepherdess's words that hemight go and complain to his nurse, and he cried out angrily:

  "I will not let any one speak to me so; I am no longer a child."

  "Not even your father's?" asked Paulus, and he looked at the boy withsuch an astonished and enquiring air, that Hermas turned away his eyesin confusion.

  "It is not right at any rate to trouble the last remnant of life of thatvery man who longs to live for your sake only."

  "I should have been very willing to be still, for I love my father aswell as any one else."

  "You do not beat him," replied Paulus, "you carry him bread and water,and do not drink up the wine yourself, which the Bishop sends him homefrom the Lord's supper; that is something certainly, but not enough by along way."

  "I am no saint!"

  "Nor I neither," exclaimed Paulus, "I am full of sin and weakness. ButI know what the love is which was taught us by the Saviour, and that youtoo may know. He suffered on the cross for you, and for me, and for allthe poor and vile. Love is at once the easiest and the most difficultof attainments. It requires sacrifice. And you? How long is it now sinceyou last showed your father a cheerful countenance?"

  "I cannot be a hypocrite."

  "Nor need you, but you must love. Certainly it is not by what his handdoes but by what his heart cheerfully offers, and by what he forceshimself to give up that a man proves his love."

  "And is it no sacrifice that I waste all my youth here?" asked the boy.

  Paulus stepped back from him a little way, shook his matted head, andsaid, "Is that it? You are thinking of Alexandria! Ay! no doubt liferuns away much quicker there than on our solitary mountain. You do notfancy the tawny shepherd girl, but perhaps some pretty pink and whiteGreek maiden down there has looked into your eyes?"

  "Let me alone about the women," answered Hermas, with genuine annoyance."There are other things to look at there."

  The youth's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and Paulus asked, not withoutinterest, "Indeed?"

  "You know Alexandria better than I," answered Hermas evasively. "Youwere born there, and they say you had been a rich young man."

  "Do they say so?" said Paulus. "Perhaps they are right; but you mustknow that I am glad that nothing any longer belongs to me of all thevanities that I possessed, and I thank my Saviour that I can now turnmy back on the turmoil of men. What was it that seemed to you soparticularly tempting in all that whirl?"

  Hermas hesitated. He feared to speak, and yet something urged and drovehim to say out all that was stirring his soul. If any one of all thosegrave men who despised the world and among whom he had grown up, couldever understand him, he knew well that it would be Paulus; Paulus whoserough beard he had pulled when he was little, on whose shoulders he hadoften sat, and who had proved to him a thousand times how truly he lovedhim. It is true the Alexandrian was the severest of them all, but he washarsh only to himself. Hermas must once for all unburden his heart, andwith sudden decision he asked the anchorite:

  "Did you often visit the baths?"

  "Often? I only wonder that I did not melt away and fall to pieces in thewarm water like a wheaten loaf."

  "Why do you laugh at that which makes men beautiful?" cried Hermashastily. "Why may Christians even visit the baths in Alexandria, whilewe up here, you and my father and all anchorites, only use water toquench our thirst? You compel me to live like one of you, and I do notlike being a dirty beast."

  "None can see us but the Most High," answered Paulus, "and for him wecleanse and beautify our souls."

  "But the Lord gave us our body too," interrupted Hermas. "It is writtenthat man is the image of God. And we! I appeared to myself as repulsiveas a hideous ape when at the great baths by the Gate of the Sun I sawthe youths and men with beautifully arranged and scented hair and smoothlimbs that shone with cleanliness and purification. And as they wentpast, and I looked at my mangy sheepfell, and thought of my wild maneand my arms and feet, which are no worse formed or weaker than theirswere, I turned hot and cold, and I felt as if some bitter drink werechoking me. I should have liked to howl out with shame and envy andvexation. I will not be like a monster!"

  Hermas ground his teeth as he spoke the last words, and Paulus lookeduneasily at him as he went on: "My body is God's as much as my soul is,and what is allowed to the Christians in the city--"

  "That we nevertheless may not do," Paulus interrupted gravely. "He whohas once devoted himself to Heaven must detach himself wholly from thecharm of life, and break one tie after another that binds him to thedust. I too once upon a time have anointed this body, and smoothed thisrough hair, and rejoiced sincerely over my mirror; but I say to you,Hermas--and, by my dear Saviour, I say it only because I feel it, deepin my heart I feel it--to pray is better than to bathe, and I, a poorwretch, have been favored with hours in which my spirit has struggledfree, and has been permitted to share as an honored guest in the festaljoys of Heaven!"

  While he spoke, his wide open eyes had turned towards Heaven and hadacquired a wondrous brightness. For a short time the two stood oppositeeach other silent and motionless; at last the anchorite pushed the hairfrom off his brow, which was now for the first time visible. It waswell-formed, though somewhat narrow, and its clear fairness formed asharp contrast to his sunburnt face.

  "Boy," he said with a deep breath, "you know not what joys you wouldsacrifice for the sake of worthless things. Long ere the Lord, callsthe pious man to Heaven, the pious has brought Heaven down to earth inhimself."

  Hermas well understood what the anchorite meant, for his father oftenfor hours at a time gazed up into Heaven in prayer, neither seeing norhearing what was going on around him, and was wont to relate to his son,when he awoke from his ecstatic vision, that he had seen the Lord orheard the angel-choir.

  He himself had never succeeded in bringing himself into such a state,although Stephanus had often compelled him to remain on his kneespraying with him for many interminable hours. It often happened thatthe old man's feeble flame of life had threatened to become altogetherextinct after these deeply so
ul-stirring exercises, and Hermas wouldgladly have forbidden him giving himself up to such hurtful emotions,for he loved his father; but they were looked upon as specialmanifestations of grace, and how should a son dare to express hisaversion to such peculiarly sacred acts? But to Paulus and in hispresent mood he found courage to speak out.

  "I have sure hope of Paradise," he said, "but it will be first openedto us after death. The Christian should be patient; why can you not waitfor Heaven till the Saviour calls you, instead of desiring to enjoy itspleasures here on earth? This first and that after! Why Should Godhave bestowed on us the gifts of the flesh if not that we may use them?Beauty and strength are not empty trifles, and none but a fool givesnoble gifts to another, only in order to throw them away."

  Paulus gazed in astonishment at the youth, who up to this moment hadalways unresistingly obeyed his father and him, and he shook his head ashe answered,

  "So think the children of this world who stand far from the Most High.In the image of God are we made no doubt, but what child would kiss theimage of his father, when the father offers him his own living lips?"

  Paulus had meant to say 'mother' instead of 'father,' but he rememberedin time that Hermas had early lost the happiness of caressing a mother,and he had hastily amended the phrase. He was one of those to whom it isso painful to hurt another, that they never touch a wounded soul unlessto heal it, divining the seat of even the most hidden pain.

  He was accustomed to speak but little, but now he went on eagerly:

  "By so much as God is far above our miserable selves, by so much isthe contemplation of Him worthier of the Christian than that of his ownperson. Oh! who is indeed so happy as to have wholly lost that self andto be perfectly absorbed in God! But it pursues us, and when the soulfondly thinks itself already blended in union with the Most High itcries out 'Here am I!' and drags our nobler part down again into thedust. It is bad enough that we must hinder the flight of the soul, andare forced to nourish and strengthen the perishable part of our beingwith bread and water and slothful sleep to the injury of the immortalpart, however much we may fast and watch. And shall we indulge theflesh, to the detriment of the spirit, by granting it any of its demandsthat can easily be denied? Only he who despises and sacrifices hiswretched self can, when he has lost his baser self by the Redeemer'sgrace, find himself again in God."

  Hermas had listened patiently to the anchorite, but he now shook hishead, and said: "I cannot under stand either you or my father. So longas I walk on this earth, I am I and no other. After death, no doubt, butnot till then, will a new and eternal life begin."

  "Not so," cried Paulus hastily, interrupting him. "That other and higherlife of which you speak, does not begin only after death for him whowhile still living does not cease from dying, from mortifying the flesh,and from subduing its lusts, from casting from him the world and hisbaser self, and from seeking the Lord. It has been vouchsafed to manyeven in the midst of life to be born again to a higher existence. Lookat me, the basest of the base. I am not two but one, and yet am I in thesight of the Lord as certainly another man than I was before grace foundme, as this young shoot, which has grown from the roots of an overthrownpalmtree is another tree than the rotten trunk. I was a heathen andenjoyed every pleasure of the earth to the utmost; then I became aChristian; the grace of the Lord fell upon me, and I was born again, andbecame a child again; but this time--the Redeemer be praised!--the childof the Lord. In the midst of life I died, I rose again, I found the joysof Heaven. I had been Menander, and like unto Saul, I became Paulus. Allthat Menander loved--baths, feasts, theatres, horses and chariots, gamesin the arena, anointed limbs, roses and garlands, purple-garments, wineand the love of women--lie behind me like some foul bog out of whicha traveller has struggled with difficulty. Not a vein of the old mansurvives in the new, and a new life has begun for me, mid-way to thegrave; nor for me only, but for all pious men. For you too the hour willsound, in which you will die to--"

  "If only I, like you, had been a Menander," cried Hermas, sharplyinterrupting the speaker: "How is it possible to cast away that which Inever possessed? In order to die one first must live. This wretched lifeseems to me contemptible, and I am weary of running after you like acalf after a cow. I am free-born, and of noble race, my father himselfhas told me so, and I am certainly no feebler in body than thecitizens' sons in the town with whom I went from the baths to thewrestling-school."

  "Did you go to the Palaestra?" asked Paulus in surprise.

  "To the wrestling-school of Timagetus," cried Hermas, coloring. "Fromoutside the gate I watched the games of the youths as they wrestled, andthrew heavy disks at a mark. My eyes almost sprang out of my head atthe sight, and I could have cried out aloud with envy and vexation,at having to stand there in my ragged sheep-skin excluded from allcompetition. If Pachomius had not just then come up, by the Lord I musthave sprung into the arena, and have challenged the strongest of themall to wrestle with me, and I could have thrown the disk much fartherthan the scented puppy who won the victory and was crowned."

  "You may thank, Pachomius," said Paulus laughing, "for having hinderedyou, for you would have earned nothing in the arena but mockeryand disgrace. You are strong enough, certainly, but the art of thediscobolus must be learned like any other. Hercules himself would bebeaten at that game without practice, and if he did not know the rightway to handle the disk."

  "It would not have been the first time I had thrown one," cried the boy."See, what I can do!" With these words he stooped and raised one of theflat stones, which lay piled up to secure the pathway; extending his armwith all his strength, he flung the granite disk over the precipice awayinto the abyss.

  "There, you see," cried Paulus, who had watched the throw carefully andnot without some anxious excitement. "However strong your arm may be,any novice could throw farther than you if only he knew the art ofholding the discus. It is not so--not so; it must cut through the airlike a knife with its sharp edge. Look how you hold your hand, you throwlike a woman! The wrist straight, and now your left foot behind, andyour knee bent! see, how clumsy you are! Here, give me the stone. Youtake the discus so, then you bend your body, and press down your kneeslike the arc of a bow, so that every sinew in your body helps to speedthe shot when you let go. Aye--that is better, but it is not quite rightyet. First heave the discus with your arm stretched out, then fix youreye on the mark; now swing it out high behind you--stop! once more! yourarm must be more strongly strained before you throw. That might pass,but you ought to be able to hit the palm-tree yonder. Give meyour discus, and that stone. There; the unequal corners hinder itsflight--now pay attention!" Paulus spoke with growing eagerness, and nowhe grasped the flat stone, as he might have done many years since whenno youth in Alexandria had been his match in throwing the discus.

  He bent his knees, stretched out his body, gave play to his wrist,extended his arm to the utmost and hurled the stone into space, whilethe clenched toes of his right foot deeply dinted the soil.

  But it fell to the ground before reaching which Paulus had indicated asthe mark.

  "Wait!" cried Hermas. "Let me try now to hit the tree."

  His stone whistled through the air, but it did not even reach the mound,into which the palm-tree had struck root.

  Paulus shook his head disapprovingly, and in his, turn seized a flatstone; and now an eager contest began. At every throw Hermas' stone flewfarther, for he copied his teacher's action and grasp with increasingskill, while the older man's arm began to tire. At last Hermas for thesecond time hit the palm-tree, while Paulus had failed to reach even themound with his last fling.

  The pleasure of the contest took stronger possession of the anchorite;he flung his raiment from him, and seizing another stone he criedout--as though he were standing once more in the wrestling school amonghis old companions; all shining with their anointment.

  "By the silver-bowed Apollo, and the arrow-speeding Artemis, I will hitthe palm-tree."

  The missile sang through the air, his body spran
g back, and he stretchedout his left arm to save his tottering balance; there was a crash, thetree quivered under the blow, and Hermas shouted joyfully: "Wonderful!wonderful! that was indeed a throw. The old Menander is not dead!Farewell--to-morrow we will try again."

  With these words Hermas quitted the anchorite, and hastened with wideleaps down the hill in the oasis. Paulus started at the words like asleep-walker who is suddenly wakened by hearing his name called. Helooked about him in bewilderment, as if he had to find his way in somestrange world. Drops of sweat stood on his brow, and with sudden shamehe snatched up his garments that were lying on the ground, and coveredhis naked limbs.

  For some time he stood gazing after Hermas, then he clasped his brow indeep anguish and large tears ran down upon his beard.

  "What have I said?" he muttered to himself; "That every vein of the oldman in me was extirpated? Fool! vain madman that I am. They named mePaulus, and I am in truth Saul, aye, and worse than Saul!"

  With these words he threw himself on his knees, pressing his foreheadagainst the hard rock, and began to pray. He felt as if he had beenflung from a height on to spears and lances, as if his heart and soulwere bleeding, and while he remained there, dissolved in grief andprayer, accusing and condemning himself, he felt not the burning of thesun as it mounted in the sky, heeded not the flight of time, nor heardthe approach of a party of pilgrims, who, under the guidance of bishopAgapitus, were visiting the Holy Places. The palmers saw him at prayer,heard his sobs, and, marvelling at his piety, at a sign from theirpastor they knelt down behind him.

  When Paulus at last arose, he perceived with surprise and alarm thewitnesses of his devotions, and approached Agapitus to kiss his robe.But the bishop said: "Not so; he that is most pious is the greatestamong us. My friends, let us bow down before this saintly man!"

  The pilgrims obeyed his command. Paulus hid his face in his hands andsobbed out: "Wretch, wretch that I am!"

  And the pilgrims lauded his humility, and followed their leader who leftthe spot.