DIVINITY SCHOOL
TROWBRIDGE LIBRARY

BY AN UNKNOWN DISCIPLE

BY AN
UNKNOWN DISCIPLE

"He that hath marvelled shall reign."
"Wherefore have ye not perceived the reasonableness
of the Scriptures?" — Gospel to the Hebrews.
"My humanity is the road by which men must
travel." — Suso.

NEW XST^ YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY

Copyright, 1919,
By George, H. Doran Company

Printed in the United States of AmericU

BY AN UNKNOWN DISCIPLE

BY AN UNKNOWN DISCIPLE

MARK JOHN was only a boy then, and
what he wrote down he learnt from Peter.
Peter was there, but he was hauling up the boats,
and didn't know what had happened until he
heard the shouts and saw the swine break away
and rush down the hillside into the sea. He
never saw the madman until all the swine were
dead. How, then, did he know enough to tell
Mark John? Well, of course, he heard the
others talk. And then that was Peter's way. He
was always sure that he knew everything until he
did some hot-tempered, silly action, and then he
was sure that he knew nothing. He would be
lieve everything or nothing according to his tem
per towards the teller. He did not care for the
labour of weighing facts to decide between false
and true. You could never make Peter believe
that even when people describe a thing as they
think they saw it they may still speak falsehood.
If a man told Peter that he had met a demon or
7

8 By an Unknown Disciple 
a magician in the mountains Peter would be quite
sure that it was a magician or a demon, unless the
man who said he saw it was a Scribe or a Pharisee,
and then Peter would say he was a liar.
Always Peter hated the explanations given by
others. He never wanted to ask how things had
happened. He felt so strongly that he was sure
he knew and that other more subtle explanations
smelt of the Scribes. Later he grew into some
what of a tyrant, but always he was lovable.
Luke was not there. I do not know who told
him. Yes, he was an educated man; but he was
a physician, and he seldom saw beyond the things
of the body. Witness the way he changed the
Blessings. Peter never made such mistakes about
the Message; to the end he loved the poor, but
Luke wanted to keep them orderly.
Peter and Luke and Mark John — they are all
dead now, and I can speak my mind. When they
were here I often tried, but they did not want to
listen. They liked their own way of seeing the
miracle best, and, so, for the sake of peace and
good-fellowship, I ceased to speak. If it were the
truth, then one day it would prevail. So I kept
silence. But you are waiting to know about the
swine and the madman.
The dawn was breaking when we reached the
land after that stormy passage across the lake

By an Unknown Disciple 9
and I followed Jesus up the slope of the shore to
the headlands. Peter and the other fishermen
were busy hauling up the boats ; some of the peo
ple who, like me, had been passengers, lay down
to sleep, some followed us far behind in a little
group. The light spread over the hills was purple
and pink, and the stillness was broken only by
the cheep of a sleepy bird.
I do not know if Jesus prayed as he walked,
but I felt the stillness and the loneliness brought
God near, and I followed in silence. When we
reached the brow of the headland it was full day
light, and there, in the distance, was the herd of
swine, slowly rooting its way towards us. The
swineherds had turned aside to eat their morning
meal, and, as they ate, pigs of all sizes and colours,
of all ages and shapes, moved on alone, occupied
only with filling their bellies. Here a small pig
grunted in anger as he was pushed aside by a
gaunt sow, whose barren dried-up teats touched
the earth. There a great boar, with tusks pushed
up under his lip, thrust himself out from the
crowd with sidelong blows of his heavy head to
seize the portion of some smaller pigs, who fled,
squealing. Jesus stood still to watch, and, as he watched,
he smiled. When he spoke, it was to answer the
question that had remained unspoken in my mind.

10 By an Unknown Disciple 
"No," he said, "why should we call them un
clean? They are God's creatures, as we all are."
He turned as a man came forward out of the
group that stood behind and said,
"Rabbi, it is not safe to be here. There are
madmen amongst the tombs."
The man was urgent. Jesus looked him
straight in the eyes, as if to measure him, and the
man returned the look as straightly and went on
speaking. "They are possessed by demons. They tear
their flesh — they can be heard screaming day and
night. It is not safe to be here."
"How do you know they are possessed by
demons?" asked Jesus.
"What else could it be?" said the man, "There
are none that can master them. They are too
fierce to be tamed."
"Has any man tried to tame them?" asked
Jesus. "Yes, Rabbi. They have been bound with
chains and fetters. There was one that I saw.
He plucked the fetters from him as a child might
break a chain of field flowers. Then he ran, foam
ing, into the wilderness, and no man dare pass
by that way now."
Jesus was silent. His eyes were bent on the

By an Unknown Disciple 11
ground, and, after a space, the man spoke again,
and it was as if he made excuse.
"Rabbi, the demons make the man cut his flesh
with stones ; they tear his clothes to pieces. Men
fear to touch him now. He goes naked."
Jesus lifted his eyes to the man's face.
"Have men tried only this way to tame him?"
he asked.
"What other way is there, Rabbi?" asked the
man. "There is God's way," said Jesus. "Come.
Let us try it," and he went towards the tombs.
The man stepped back.
"Rabbi," he faltered. He turned to his com
panions, and fear seemed to seize upon them.
Jesus stopped and looked back. His gaze went
from man to man, and then his eyes fell upon me.
It was as if a power passed from him to me, and
immediately something inside me answered.
V "Lead, and I follow," I said, and he went for
ward again. The others debated a while, and
then, with hesitation and doubting, they, too, fol
lowed. The swineherds, who had drawn near to
hear, joined themselves to the men, and left their
pigs rooting and grunting.
It was not many cubj6 lengths to the tombs,
but the others were far behind when we reached
that desolation.

12 By an Unknown uiscipie 
"Do men live here?" asked Jesus, as he looked
at the abomination around us. I did not answer.
I was watching for the madman. I think I caught
sight of him at the moment that he first saw us,
for, as I touched Jesus to point to his naked figure,
he began to run towards us shrieking and bound
ing in the air. He had two sharp stones in his
hands, and as he leapt he cut his flesh with them,
and the blood ran down his naked limbs. The
men behind us scattered and fled down the hill
side; but Jesus stood still and waited.
I was about to step forward, thinking that the
maniac would leap upon Jesus, when the miracle
happened. For the man as if against his will
stopped short. Then he opened his palms, and
casting the sharp stones from him, he bowed him
self to the ground before Jesus, and in a most
piteous voice and with tears he cried :
"What do you want with me, O Son of the
most high God? Do not say that you also have
come here to torment me!"
"What is your name?" asked Jesus, and at
the sound of his voice the man lifted up his head
and answered bitterly,
"My name is Legion, for there are many pos
sessing me."
"Why do you say you are possessed of de
mons?" said Jesus.

 By an Unknown Disciple 13
"I did not say it," answered the man. "It was
they who said it when they loaded me with chains
and tormented me in my agony. They will tor
ture me again if they catch me," he cried, leaping
to his feet as the men behind, seeing him quieted,
came nearer.
Jesus turned and told the men to stand back.
Then he put out his hand and touched the man.
"Be at peace!" he said. "There is none that
will torment you now. You need no longer tear
your clothes, or shriek, or cut your body with
stones to frighten your torturers away."
The man fell on his face, and again bowed his
head at the feet of Jesus.
"I was in fear," he said. "They were many,
and I was one, and when the agony came upon
me and they bound me with chains, I broke them
like straws and fled. I was in fear."
"Fear is a foul spirit," said Jesus, "cast it out
from you." And the man answered humbly:
"I will." And Jesus put his own cloak upon
him and led him apart amongst the tombs to
where he could wash the blood from his limbs.
It was then that the swineherds, who with the
others devoured by curiosity had drawn near
again, remembered their swine, and turning saw
them on the edge of the cliff.

14 By an Unknown Disciple 
"See!" cried one to the other, "the swine are
in danger. We shall lose some of them."
They ran warily, one to each end of the cliff
(knowing the nature of swine and how they re
fuse to be driven save where they wish to go),
meaning to get between the swine and the seas
but the other men being ignorant and unskilful,
yet wishing to help, ran swiftly down the hillside
in the face of the swine, who, seeing them conif
in haste, turned quickly and rushed in a mass to
wards the sea.
"Stand back!" shouted the swineherds. "You
will drive them over the cliff." But it was too
late. The swine had rushed one upon another,
and the slope was steep, and in a moment they
Were swept over the edge of the cliff into the sea,
The swineherds tore their hair when they saVthe
herd rush into the sea. They ran to the clifi
edge and looked over to see where the swine were
drowning in the deep water below.
"It is your fault," they cried to the men. "You
rushed them down the hillside. We had but left
them for a moment and, behold, they are all lostf
What shall we tell our master? We cannot save
them now. It is your fault." And they men
aced the men. But the men answered back :
"How could we tell they would run like thatl
It was not our fault. We came to help you, and

By an Unknown Disciple 15
you say it was our fault." And the man who
had spoken to Jesus about the madman cried out
suddenly :
"It is the devils. They went into the swine.
Did you not see how they left the madman?
They talked with the Rabbi, and he gave permis
sion for them to enter into the swine."
"But they were not his swine," cried the herds.
*'What right had he to drown our swine?"
"They were unclean beasts, and only fit for
devils," cried the man. "It is not lawful to keep
such beasts. Come, and ask for yourselves." And
he brought the herds to where Jesus sat with the
poor madman, now soothed and quiet, at his feet.
And they told Jesus, and asked him if it were not
true that the devils had entered into the swine
out of the man; and he questioned them, and
when they told how the pigs had rushed down
the hillside when they had tried to drive them,
he was sad, and said :
"They were afraid. It was the same devil that
possessed this man." But the men did not un
derstand. "It must be so," said one swineherd to the
other. "We will go and tell our master. How
could we watch against demons? He will surely
see that it was not our fault."
By this time a crowd had gathered from the

16 By an Unknown Disciple 
boats "and from the countryside, and they stoocj
and watched Jesus and the madman as if they
could not believe their eyes.
"Will any man give clothes to the naked?"
Jesus asked them, and they ran to find clothes
and brought food, which they put before the man.
But all the time they were afraid, for the rumouj
had gone abroad that Jesus had sent the devils
into the swine, and they feared the next thing
When the swineherds returned with their mastel
and he saw the madman sitting clothed, he, tod
was afraid. And he talked with the crowd, and
some of them came forward, and he asked if they
might speak, and when Jesus gave them leave,
they begged him to go away out of their country,
for they had fear of him. And Jesus, looking at
them, saw that it was true, for they trembled as
they spoke, and he had compassion on them, and
said that he would go, and he went down to the
boats. Peter was there, ready to put out, for he had
heard the rumour, and knew the people were.
afraid. And the poor madman came too, and
pressed upon Jesus that he might come with him,
but Jesus refused him, and told him he must go
home. "You will be better at home," he said; "go to
your own people and tell them of all God has

By an Unknown Disciple 17
done for you, and how he took pity on you," and
he told the crowd that they were to care for him.
"They will do him no injury," Peter muttered,
as I helped him to push off. "They will be too
much afraid that the devils will come back, and,
perhaps, enter into their cattle this time. The
Master was right to smite iniquity. It was well
done to destroy those unclean beasts. It was sin
to keep them."
But he said no word to Jesus, and he would
not heed when I tried to tell what kind of a devil
it was that Jesus had sent out of the madman,
and that had entered into the swine.

n

LUKE was a just man, but he did not love
easily. He had an inquiring mind, always
searching out causes, and he watched and weighed
his fellow men before he joined his mind to theirs,
He was a physician, and he followed Jesus at
first because he was curious to see him heal dis»
ease. Afterwards he followed him because he
loved him. Luke met all men with curiosity,
but John met them with love. John would havf
loved even the Pharisees, if any man could love
a Pharisee; but Luke hated them because they
sought to stop inquiry. It seemed to come easy
to John to love. There was no bitterness in him,
and even if he spoke harshly of evildoers, when
he met them face to face he was always ready to
love them. It was small wonder that men made
him their friend. Luke was sure of himself, if
he did not know, he felt he would some day find
knowledge; but John was meek at heart. He
was always prone to believe that other men knew
better than he did, and that, I think, was why
he loved Jesus. He leant on him, finding rest
18

By an Unknown Disciple 19
in him from his own uncertainty. For there was
no uncertainty in Jesus. His speech was direct
and swift, and his look a keen sword. I have
seen him cow even the Pharisees. That Sabbath
day when he healed the man with the withered
arm, his speech was like a fierce flame, and the
Pharisees could not stand before it.
There had been much talk of Jesus and of
how he spent the seventh day. The Pharisees
condemned him, and said he did evil because he
walked and talked with his friends on the Sab
bath, even though they knew that most of his
friends worked for their bread on six days of the
week, and if they had not used the leisure of the
seventh would have seen little of Jesus. But the
Pharisees grumbled, for they were tyrants. What
matters, said each Pharisee in his heart, that the
Romans rule over men's bodies if we can tie their
souls? So they strove always to bind men by
their rules. They rebuked Luke because he was
curious to inquire into things, and condemned
him when he made answer and questioned them,
disputing their authority. So, too, they who
toiled not sought to parcel out the leisure that
the seventh day brought to men like Peter, whose
days were spent in labour. They hated Jesus,
who spoke against their rules and wished men to
be happy, and therefore they tried always to trap

20 By an Unknown Disciple
him in argument and to put him in the wrong
before the people.
That Sabbath morning Luke and I had followed
Jesus and John and the others through the corn
fields, and as we went Luke talked to me of Jesus
and of how he answered the Pharisees.
"Not once have I seen him snared by them,"
he said. "He knows the law better than they
do, and when they come in their long garments,
with texts on their lips, he answers them out of
the Scriptures and confounds them. Were you
there when they rebuked him because Peter's
hands were dirty?"
"No," I answered, "a man of Peter's trade
would be hard put to it if he had always to keep
his hands clean."
"Ah, but he was eating," Luke made reply.
"It was by the lake, and the fishermen had pulled
up their boats, and were about to eat their bread
when the Pharisees came up. Peter and the rest
were sweaty and dirty after their morning's work
(they had been on the lake since dawn), while
the Pharisees were clean and cool in their un
stained robes. They stood and watched Peter
break his bread. Andrew, too, had dirty hands,
and the Pharisees watched him also, and the
others as well. When they had gazed their fill

By an Unknown Disciple 21
(and no man likes to be gazed at when at meat),
they said to Jesus:
" 'Why do you not see to it that your disciples
follow the traditions of our ancestors? Their
hands are defiled.' Peter flushed to the eyes. He
takes offence easily, as you know, but it was an
affront to him, and the others were hurt, too.
Jesus looked at their faces, and when he saw
they were hurt he spoke swiftly.
" 'It is easy for those who toil not to be clean.
Peter's hands are dirty now, for he is working
for the living of his wife and mother. Is it not
God's commandment that you honour your
father and mother?'
"Mathias made answer that it was also the law
to wash before eating."
"Mathias," I cried, "was Mathias there?"
"He was one of them," said Luke. "I do not
know if Jesus had heard of him. I do not think
he had. But let me tell, and you shall judge.
While Mathias spoke Jesus watched his face, and
when he had finished speaking he still watched
for a space before he answered. Then he said :
" 'Isaiah spoke well when he said of hypo
crites — "they honour me with their lips, but their
hearts are far from me." Which is better? To
eat with hands soiled in the service of your par
ents, like Peter here, or to keep clean hands while

22 By an Unknown Disciple
neglecting to serve them? Does it suffice to pay
lip-service to your parents and leave them to hun
ger? Is God so small that he approves when you
purchase honour for yourselves by giving to him
what ought to keep others from want?'
"Mathias was abashed, and had no answer. I
do not know if Jesus knew of his gifts to the
Temple or if he but read his heart. What think
you?" "Are his parents in poverty?" I asked.
"It is said so," answered Luke. "There was
much talk about it when the High Priest praised
him for his gifts."
"If Jesus had been told he would not have
spoken," I said. "He read his heart."
"I thought it must be as you say," said Luke.
"For afterwards he called them and said that his
meaning was that nothing could defile a man but
his own evil thoughts and all the imaginations
that coming out from him end in evil deeds. Eat
ing with dirty hands could but defile his body,
but would leave his soul untouched."
"And Mathias?" I asked.
"He went humbly away, separating himself
from the others. I think Jesus did but read his
heart, and Mathias knew, for he was ashamed."
By this time we had reached the end of the

 By an Unknown Disciple 23
corn land, and on the track beyond we saw a
group of men standing.
"See, the Pharisees are lying in wait for him.
Let us hear what they have to say," said Luke.
And we went forward to join Jesus and the others.
Some of the disciples as they walked through
the field had plucked the ears of corn, and idly
rubbing them between their palms had blown
away the chaff, and were chewing the grain.
There is a clean taste about grain rubbed straight
from the ear, and it is pleasant to eat.
"They have a grievance to put before him/'
whispered Luke. "What have they fastened on
now?" The spokesman of the Pharisees was a tall,
old man with narrow eyes and hard lips. He
pointed to Peter.
"Look," he said to Jesus, "why are your dis
ciples doing what is not allowed on the Sab
bath?" Jesus's eyes followed the gesture of the Phari
see, and for a moment he searched Peter to see
what was wrong. Peter's jaws were still work
ing and when Jesus saw the grain in his hands
he smiled as he turned to the Pharisees.
"Is it the grain?" he asked. His eyes were
clear and gay, and in his face, burnt brown by the

24 By an Unknown Disciple

sun, was the joy of a young man who rejoices
in life.
"Have you never read what David did when
he was hungry?" he said to the Pharisees, and
he smiled at them even as he caught them in
their own trap. It was as if he would have had
them also for friends, for he mocked them gaily
as friend mocks friend.
"Do you not remember that he went into the
Temple with his friends and asked the High
Priest to give him the Holy Bread, and the High
Priest gave them the bread for which David had
asked?" The Pharisees were silent. No man gave back
smile for smile.
Jesus spoke on, still smiling.
"And do not the Priests in the Temple break
the Sabbath every seventh day, and yet are not
counted guilty ?"
"It is not the same thing," said the Pharisee
eagerly. "Why not?" asked Jesus.
"David was about the king's business," said
the old man.
"Are not these men about the business of God?"
asked Jesus. "They have toiled all the week,
and rest now to prepare for the toil of another
week. Is not that the business of God?"

 By an Unknown Disciple 25
"They are only fishermen, but the Priests are
the servants of God," said the old man, sourly.
"Are not these men also the servants of God?"
Jesus questioned, but the Pharisee would not
answer. "They are not as David or as the Priests," he
repeated doggedly. "They are only fishermen.
and they are breaking God's law."
And the other Pharisees murmured agreement.
The gaiety left the face of Jesus, and the mirth
departed from his speech.
"Where did you learn God's law, you who
know nothing of God himself?" he said. "Your
talk of God is only hearsay. Your only knowl
edge of him is what you have heard other men
tell of him. If you had known him of yourselves
you would understand what he meant when he
said 'I desire mercy, not sacrifices,' and you would
not condemn the guiltless. You can have no
friendship with God yourselves, for if you were
his friends you would know that he made the
Sabbath for men and not men for the Sabbath.
Come, let us go," he said to the disciples, and
went on, leaving the Pharisees in the roadway.
"They are angry because they cannot find an
answer," said Luke; and we joined ourselves on
to Jesus and walked with him.
It was as if a cloud had come over the sun,

26 By an Unknown Disciple

for the joy had died out of him and his face
was sad.
"The Pharisees seek to tie all men down by
their own rules," he said, and Luke questioned:
"Are there to be no rules?"
"Rules forced upon a man against his will from
without must be broken, or his soul is lost," said
Jesus. "Only the rules to which a man consents
within himself can stand. The Pharisees make
their own opinions rules for all, and so lay bur
dens too heavy to be borne upon the shoulders of
men. They do not wish men to be happy."
"They are against all those who search for
truth," said Luke, and Jesus smiled upon him as
he answered:
"All men are iar from truth, but those who
put the Law before kindliness will never find it.
The Pharisees err because they do not know that
if a man love not he cannot have vision."
Luke questioned him further, seeking to find
how the Pharisees had fallen into error, and how
love could give them vision, and Jesus smiled
again as he answered him.
"It is because of the hardness of their hearts.
They mistrust all men, therefore their eyes are
holden." And when Luke questioned still more, he said:
"See you, are not we all members one of another

By an Unknown Disciple 27
and therefore how can one man find truth for
himself? If his opinions make him hate his fel
low men, let him cast them out, for he may be
sure he is far from God when he is divided from
his fellows."
"But he may know more than they, and they
be unwilling to listen to him," said Luke.
"Let him keep silent then, and love his neigh
bour, and his reward will follow," said Jesus.
| By this time we had come to the synagogue,
and Jesus led the way into it. The Pharisees had
gone round by another path, and the synagogue
was full of them and of their friends. Jesus
went apart and prayed in silence, and for a time
we prayed also, and then Luke touched me and
I looked round.
The Pharisees were thronged together, and in
their midst slowly pushing his way forward was
a man. His garments were old, and as he pushed
his way, he looked from face to face as if seek
ing some one.
"See, his arm is withered. He seeks Jesus.
He would be healed," said Luke, and, as he spoke,
the man caught sight of Jesus, who had finished
his prayer, and who stood alone, the Pharisees
having fallen back on all sides of him. The man
pushed on through the crowd, till he came to
within a few paces of Jesus. Here he stopped,

28 By an Unknown Disciple 
and, with the Pharisees thronged behind him,
stood still and looked at Jesus. He spoke no
word, nor did the Pharisees, but each in his heart
knew that the man pleaded for healing.
Jesus looked at the man, with his useless arm
and that woeful entreaty in his eyes. Then he
looked round the circle of Pharisees, his gaze
dwelling on one face after another, as if seeking
leave to help. No man answered that look.
Jesus said to the man :
"Stand forth in the middle," and the man, poor,
pitiable creature, stepped forth, his ragged haik
hanging from him in such wise that his withered
arm could be seen of all men and his misery made
manifest. Again Jesus made question of the faces round
him, and with wonder, as if, having shown them
the man's misery, he marvelled that they could
withhold leave to show mercy. There was neither
pity nor mercy in those bitter faces, and after a
silence, Jesus spoke:
"Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath?" he
asked, "or only harm? May I save life, or only
destroy it?"
There was no answer. No matter what the
misery, rules must not be broken. The man must
suffer. Once more, for the last time, Jesus searched

By an Unknown Disciple 29
their faces, and then, suddenly, his eyes lit up,
and it was as if a lightning had flashed across
the synagogue. His anger was so vivid and strong
that the Pharisees fell back in fear, and huddled
one upon another.
Jesus turned to the man and spoke.
"Stretch forth your hand !" he commanded, and
the power that went from him to the man was a
power that confounded and conquered tyranny.
The man, his pleading dog's eyes still fixed on
Jesus's face, stretched forth his hand, and to the
amazement of all men, it was whole.
It was after that healing that the Pharisees
began to plot how to kill him.

Ill

IT was in the house of Simon that I first saw
Jesus. Simon was a Pharisee, but not of the
stricter sort. He mixed much with the Gentiles,
and spake often of great Rome which he had
visited, and of its iniquities into which he had
made curious inquiry. He was rich and had
many friends, for he liked to know all men and
to hear of every new thing. It was rumoured that
if there was much talk of any man, Simon would
seek him out and ask him to meat; but I do not
know the truth of this.
It was some time after men first began to talk
of Jesus that one day I met Simon, and he asked
if I had heard of the new Prophet. I answered
that no man could avoid hearing of him, so great
was the talk, and he said:
"He eats meat at my house to-day. Come and
see him there. Levi is coming, and I have asked
a few dancing girls, harlots though they be."
I was astonished and said:
"But, Simon, I hear this Jesus is a follower of
John the Baptizer, and he scorned the flesh. His
followers fast and pray without ceasing."
30

By an Unknown Disciple 31
"This prophet does not fast," said Simon, wag
ging his beard. "He is not like John. John had
a demon, but Jesus likes music and feasting. They
say he consorts much with the lewder sort, and
makes his friends of publicans and outcasts. He
has bewitched Levi, who has thrown up his tax-
gathering to follow him. But come and see for
yourself. If he be a prophet, he will know what
manner of women these dancing girls are, and
be on his guard against them."
He went on his way and I on mine, and as I
walked I pondered on what he had said, and
after a space I turned aside into the Street of
the Prostitutes to seek out Mary of Magdala, who
had her dwelling there. Mary, like Simon, knew
all men, and was known of all. She could tell
me more of this Jesus. Mary's house, like Ra-
hab's, was on the wall, and there I found her in
the outer room, seated on a carpet making play
with a stringed instrument, while she listened ta
the talk of the men around her. She was a beau
tiful woman, upright as a flame, with hair like a
raven's wing, and deep dark eyes. Her voice was,
beautiful, too, with a little hoarse break in it
when she was moved that stirred men's hearts.
When I had greeted her I told her I had come
for tidings of the new Prophet, and she answered

32 By an Unknown Disciple 
scornfully with a wave of her hand towards her
companions. "They talk of nothing but the new Prophet.
He has turned men's heads."
"But you know, Mary," cried Sadoc, a young
fop who aped the Roman way of speech. "He
is so new. We have not had one of his sort be
fore." 'Old prophet or new prophet," said Mary,
"it matters nothing to me. Prophets come not
my way."
"You need not fear him, Mary," said another
man jestingly. "He will not be hard on you.
Have you not heard what he said when they haled
that other woman before him?"
"What woman?" asked Mary, idly twanging
the strings of her instrument.
"I do not know her name," said the man. "But
they caught her in her guilt, and dragged her to
the new Prophet for condemnation. When they
accused her to him — and they had caught her in
the very act — at first he would say nothing, and
when they pressed him for a judgment, he said if
there was one man there who had never sinned
with a woman, he could cast the first stone."
Mary looked up suddenly.
"And was there?" she asked with that hoarse
break in her voice.

By an Unknown Disciple 33
The men laughed.
"Of course not. What man could say that?"
cried one of them.
"Of course not," Mary echoed. "And the
woman? What happened to her?"
"They left her with the Prophet. I do not
know what he said. But he sent her away, for
she still lives."
"Perchance he sent her for the man," said Mary.
"What man?" asked the other.
"The man who shared her guilt. Is it not the
Law that he be stoned, too? Why did they not
take him also before the Prophet?"
The men laughed again.
"I suppose he did not wait to be taken, but fled
like Joseph," said the man who had told the tale.
"Leaving the woman to be stoned?" said Mary.
"And this Prophet had mercy. What did you
say his name was?"
"He is called Jesus. He is from Nazareth."
"Do not be uneasy, Mary," said Sadoc. "No
man could condemn you. You are too beautiful."
"If my beauty is all that saves me from con
demnation I have poor protection," said Mary.
"Even a prophet could see how beautiful you
are," said the fop in his foolish voice.
"John did not see the beauty of Salome," said
Mary shortly.

54 By an Unknown Disciple 
"John was possessed," said one of the men.
"This Jesus is different. He knows what men
are." Mary rose suddenly from her carpet, flinging
the instrument aside.
"Can any prophet know men as we, we harlots,
do?" she asked, and we* all stood silent, amazed
at her passion.
"I will go to Simon's and see this man," she
said, and went towards the inner chambers of
her house.
"Stay, Mary," cried Sadoc. "I have a gift for
thee"; but she did not heed him, but went in,
leaving him there on the threshold. He turned
back to us, and showed us an alabaster box which
he held in his hand.
"I will wait and give her this when she has
Tecovered from her anger," he said. "Mary loves
perfumes, and this is priceless. One drop will
perfume a whole room."
We left him there, and I walked down the
Street of the Prostitutes with one, of the other
men, who said : "That fool Sadoc wishes to buy
Mary's love, but she will have none of him. He
has great riches, but Mary is not like other harlots
to be bought for a price of any man."
"How, then, did she become such a one?" I
asked.

By an Unknown Disciple 35
"They say her lover deserted her. She was not
brought up to the trade. Her people are respect
able citizens of Bethany. Think you she will go
to Simon's?"
"He told me he had dancing girls. Why not
Mary, too?" I said.
"Dancing girls to amuse a prophet? What is
the world coming to! John would have cursed
them," said the man with a laugh.
There was a great crowd outside Simon'^ house
when we reached it. The Prophet had just gone
in, and the people lingered, hoping to see him
again. "All the world is running after this Jesus,"
said my companion as we pressed through the
throng in the courtyard into the house.
Inside there were many people, and I could
not see Simon. I separated from my companion
and stood apart, waiting for Simon to show me
my place. As I waited I searched the faces if
perchance I might be able to pick out the Prophet
from the other men before Simon came and
pointed him out. It is always an interest to
watch the faces of menv and here, though there
were many I knew, there were some whom I had
never seen before. There were faces beautiful and
ugly, gloomy or gay, subtile or foolish. Some men
were talking, some silent, most were in washed

36 By an Unknown Disciple
white raiment with newly-rolled headgear. My
eyes wandered from one to another, and then fell
on a group of men in a corner and stopped, ar
rested by the face of one of them.
It was not its beauty that chained my eyes,
though it was a face beautiful to look upon. Nor
was it the light in the eyes, though that rejoiced
the heart. It was the tranquillity of the face that
held me ; a tranquillity, not of sloth or emptiness,
but of surety; the tranquillity of one who rested
in a certainty greater than other men knew.
"That man has the secret of life," I thought;
and as if I had spoken the words aloud the man's
eyes turned, and his gaze met mine.
There was something in the look that stirred
my soul. The tranquillity did not leave his face,
but there came a questioning into his eyes, and
then a wistfulness that melted me to pity.
"He is lonely," I thought. "He seeks friends.
He asks somewhat of me." And my heart leapt
within me. The eyes held mine for a moment,
and then some man spoke and he turned to answer.
I do not remember the next thing. I was like
a man who sees a vision in a crowd and straight*
way forgets all but his vision. Mary must have
come in, for there was a stir about me of men
pressing forward to see, and some one spat on the
ground as she passed. When I came to myself

 By an Unknown Disciple 37
the guests had gone into the inner rooms to eat.
I did not follow them. My mind was set on that
question in the eyes of Jesus. He asks some
thing of me, I thought. What is it? Would he
count me, too, among his friends?
I do not know how long I sat there, but, after
a time, Simon came out. When he saw me he
came and sat beside me, and wiped his brow with
the edge of his robe.
I called my attention back and regarded him.
His face was flushed and he was uneasy.
"You have not gone in?" he said. "Mary has
been making a fool of herself. There is some
thing about Jesus, I know not what. He re
buked me to my face, but I cannot bear malice.
Mary has wasted her perfume, and my party is
spoilt." "What has happened?" I asked.
"I do not know. Jesus did nothing that I saw.
She wept, and poured the perfume on his feet
and wiped them with the hair of her head. You
can never count on a woman. Their ways are
always crooked."
It was then that Mary came forth, followed by
that foolish fop, Sadoc, and by some other men.
Her face was stained with the tears she had shed
and her eyelids swollen.

38 By an Unknown Disciple 
Simon rose up to meet her, but before he could
speak she cried out :
"Do not reproach me, Simon. I meant but to
look upon the Prophet, but Sadoc's perfume was
in my hand and I could not help myself."
"He rebuked me to my face because of you,"
muttered Simon.
"And well you deserved it, Simon. You of
fered him no honour. You gave him no kiss. No,
not even wherewithal to wash the dust from his
feet. He alone saw that that was why I did it.
Even honour paid by a harlot is better than no
honour at all. See, I am weeping again." And
the tears fell from her eyes.
"How was I to know he would expect honour?"
said Simon, and he went awa;r into the inner
room. "Do not weep, Mary," said one of the men.
"He had no right to upset you so. Who is he to
forgive sins and call other people sinners?"
"He did not say he forgave my sins. He said
they were forgiven. And I am a sinner. But I
will never sin again."
"You are not going to desert us, Mary," cried
Sadoc in distress, catching her by the sleeve.
"How can I help deserting you when I have
seen something higher?" she replied.

By an Unknown Disciple 39
"You are going to that Jesus," said the fop in
disgust. Mary turned on him, her eyes flashing under
her painted brows.
"You fool! You fool! Are you blind that
you cannot see he is too great for that folly ? He
knows the bitterness that lies in the heart of a
harlot. He will never add to that pain."
"He will never love you as I do," said Sadoc.
"Love!" cried Mary. "For years have I been
the vessel of men's lusts, and it was never love
they brought me. I know, for I have loved. Love
is a giving. And I have given, with both hands
have I given, and never have I had aught but lust
in return. And never till this day has any man
seen that I loved."
"He will desert you, Mary," said one of the
men. "Are you all blind that you say such things?"
she said. "Can you not see that he loves the soul
of every man? He will never lust to possess the
body. If he makes me his friend he will never
desert me."
"How do you know so much about him,
Mary?" asked Sadoc, curiously. "You have but
seen him."
Mary looked bewildered.
"I do not know," she said.

40  By an Unknown Disciple 
"Was it because he looked at you, Mary?" I
asked, my vision returning to me.
Mary turned to me in amazement.
"How did you know? Were you there? He
looked at me, and I know not what came upon me.
It seemed as if life were not so evil as I had
thought, or men so wicked. It was as if he called
me. I know not where I go, but I know I must
follow." She went out, and after a space the men went
after her, but I lingered, hoping to see Jesus. But
he came not forth. Other men were leaving the
house, and after a time, seeing that Jesus must
have gone out by another way, I too went. As I
rose up to go, a dark man with a lowering face
that held a tragedy came forth alone. I did not
know him, but something in his face bit into my
mind. He was muttering to himself, and as he
passed I heard him say: "It was worth thirty
pieces of silver. Thirty pieces of silver!"
I touched the arm of the next man.
"Who is that that has passed?" I asked.
"There, walking behind Levi the publican."
"That? Oh, that is Judas Iscariot," said the
man. "He, too, is a follower of Jesus."

IV

THE day after Simon's party, as soon as it
was dawn, I went out to seek Jesus, but he
was not in the town. Men told me that the vil
lages could not contain the crowds that came to
hear him, and that I should find him outside in
the country where there was room. I went out,
but the crowd was so great that I could not see
him from its edge. I lingered, hoping that by
some chance the people might go away and I
might see Jesus alone. All around me men were
disputing as to his healings and the number of
devils he had cast out, some saying this and some
that, and after a time I wearied of their talk
and came away.
I met Sadoc coming out from the town, and
he stopped. "Have you seen aught of Mary?"
he asked. His foppery had dropped from him,
and he was full of woe. I told him that I had not
seen her.
"I thought she might be outside with Jesus,"
he said. "I have been to her house, but it is closed.
They say she was last seen with Joanna, the wife
of Chuza, and with Suzanna." 41

42 By an Unknown Disciple 
"But, Sadoc," I said, "these are women of re
pute. Is it likely that they will consort with
such as Mary?"
"It is the fault of Jesus," he replied, bitterly.
"He has confused them with talk of this kingdom
of his, and now they follow him. What a king-
dom ! Outcasts and publicans mixed together with
fishermen and the wives of respectable men!"
"John the Baptizer also preached the kingdom
of God," I said.
"John went naked and starved himself," cried
Sadoc. "None but the mad could believe in his
teaching. But Jesus says he is going to establish
a kingdom here in our midst and in our daily lives,
and in truth he has begun, for he is plucking our
houses about our ears."
"I have not heard his teaching of the kingdom,
but men say he has wisdom," I replied.
"How could such as he come by wisdom*?"
said Sadoc. "He is the son of a carpenter, and
a carpenter himself."
"Is wisdom denied to carpenters?" I askedj
but Sadoc was angry, and said:
"I see that you, too, will soon be of his king
dom. They told me in the marketplace just now
that Nicodemus has joined him. Nicodemus is
old, but he is too serious. It is the fault of all
Jews. The Romans are wiser. They live their

 By an Unknown Disciple 43
lives, and leave their gods to their priests. I
wonder what Pilate will say when the talk of
this kingdom comes to his ears?"
"I am sure you are mistaken, Sadoc. It can
not be what you say," I said.
"I tell you that everywhere in secret men are
talking of the new kingdom. Go and see Nico
demus, if you do not believe me," said Sadoc, and
he went away in wrath.
Now, Nicodemus was a Ruler amongst the
Jews, and I had known him from my childhood.
He was a quiet man, but fair-minded above all
other men. He had no passion but for justice,
and in his dealings with his fellows he was him
self just to the bone. I determined that I would
go to him.
By this time it was midday, and I found Nico
demus in his house, about to sit down to eat. He
asked me to join him, and when food had been
put before us I told him why I had come.
"Sadoc says you have become a follower of
Jesus, and that he is preaching a kingdom not of
the Romans," I said.
"Sadoc is a fool," said Nicodemus. "It is true
that I have been to see Jesus, but it is not true
that he preaches against Roman rule, or that I
have become his disciple."
"What is this talk of his kingdom?" I asked.

44 By an Unknown Disciple
"Sadoc says it is more dangerous than that
preached by John."
"I have heard John preach," said Nicodemus.
"He was a wild, unbalanced man. He preached
repentance, and denounced all men. It was teach
ing, look you, fitted to make men think upon
their sins, but not to govern their lives. Jesus is
a greater than John."
"What, then, is this kingdom?" I asked.
Nicodemus pondered a moment.
"It is hard to explain," he said. "It has long
been in the minds of men of our nation that one
day God would rule over us in an earthly king
dom. Jesus is well learned in the Law, so he
knows of that hope. But his doctrine is that that
kingdom is here already."
"But where," I cried, "seeing the Romans rule
all Judea?"
"I think he means that it is in men's hearts,
and has nothing to do with their governors. But
let me tell you of what he said to me," said Nico
demus. "I went to him by night, for indeed, it
was the only way to see him alone, and I asked
him of this kingdom, and he said no man could
see the kingdom unless he was born again, and
when I wondered, asking if a man could be born
again when he was old, he said unless a man was

By an Unknown Disciple 45
born of the Spirit he could never enter the king
dom." "Then it is not a real kingdom?"
Nicodemus pondered again before he answered.
"Yes, it is real," he said at last, "but he seemed
to think that what was meant by our Prophets
was that if you change men's hearts you will also
change their governments. He spoke out of an
inner certainty, and with authority. When I
questioned him as to how a man could be born of
the Spirit, he said that when he spoke of what he
knew, men would not accept his statements; and
if they would not believe when he spoke of earth
ly things, how could they believe if he spoke of
heavenly?" "What did he mean by that?" I asked.
"His meaning, I think, was that if he tells men
the way to enter the kingdom, and they won't
believe him, how can he expect them to believe
him if he tells of the mysteries of the Spirit? That,
at least, was how I understood him. He has the
root of the matter in him, and his teaching is cer
tainly of God."
"And yet you have not become his follower?"
I said. "I cannot do as others have done, and throw
up all to follow him. I have taken too many
duties upon me," he answered.

46  By an Unknown Disciple 
"Well, Nicodemus," I said, as I rose up to go,
"I have it in my mind that I may become a fol
lower of Jesus. I go to seek him now, to ask of
this kingdom." And Nicodemus answered sadly:
"You are young, and I am old. I do not say
that if I were thy age, and not a Ruler of Israel,
I would not do likewise. Go, and God be with
you." I had stayed long with Nicodemus, and when
I went forth from his house it was towards eve
ning. I went out of the city by the same way in
which I had walked at dawn, but when I reached
the place where the crowd had been gathered,
there was no one there. But I did not return to
the town, for I had a feeling that if I went on I
should come upon Jesus. When I had gone for
ward some distance, I saw a group of men and
some mules in the distance, and made for them.
When I reached them I saw that Jesus was not
one of them, and that they disputed together. A
young man in silk raiment stood in the middle,
and urged something upon some other men, who,
rougher in manner and clad in coarser garments,
withstood him. Some paces behind them stood
two servants, holding three mules, one of which
had saddle-cloths of finely-woven wool, and stir
rups of silver.
"But I have come from far," said the young

By an Unknown Disciple 47
man, and one of the others, whom later I knew
to be Peter, answered :
"He has taught all day, and by now he is tired
out. He has but this moment gone aside to rest."
The servants murmured that their master had
come a day's journey to see the Prophet, and that
one so rich should be honoured, and one of them
beckoned to Peter and said in his ear :
"The Prophet will not like it if you keep him
back. He comes to know what office he may
hold in the kingdom."
Peter wavered, and one of his companions —
John, I think — said, "We must not send them
away. You know what he said."
Peter, undecided still, turned to me and asked
me what I wanted.
"I have come to speak to Jesus, but I will go
now, and come again if he is tired," I said; where
upon John said, "It will be better to show them
the path." So Peter led the way up a steep hill
side, and the young man went behind him with
his servants and the mules close at his heels. I
followed with John.
"We shall find him in the highest place, where
he can see over all the earth," said John, as we
climbed, and it was near the top that we came
upon Jesus. By this time the sun was beginning
to set, and a great peace lay upon the land. Jesus

48  By an Unknown Disciple 
sat gazing over the wide country that lay before
him, but he turned when he heard our footsteps.
Peter went up to him.
"Master, these two rich men have come to speak
to you," he said. "John thought you would wish
to see them."
"John was right. I would turn none away.
What do they need?" asked Jesus.
The young man stepped forward, and with
great courtesy knelt down.
"Master," he said, "I have come to ask you
what I can do to inherit eternal life?"
Jesus regarded him for a moment, and his
eyes went to the men-servants and the mules, and
he looked at them before he answered. Then he
said: "You have been brought up in the command
ments of Moses. Keep these."
"I have observed them all," said the young
man. "There is one further," said Jesus. "Thou
shalt love thy neighbour as thyself."
"This, too, have I done," said the young man.
"What else do I lack?"
For a moment there was silence, and then Jesus
said, and his eyes searched the young man as he
spoke :
"There is still one thing lacking. Go and sell

By an Unknown Disciple

all that thou hast and give to the poor, and then
come and follow me."
The young man rose to his feet, and stood si
lent, his eyes cast on the ground. The servants
moved uneasily, and one of them scratched his
head, as if the answer pleased him not. Jesus
spoke again:
"How is it you say you love your neighbour as
yourself? Is not your house full of goods, while
around you your brothers, also sons of Abraham,
are clad with dung and dying of hunger? Goeth
there aught at all from out your house for them?"
The young man made no answer. He did not
raise his eyes, and, after a moment, he turned
aside. The servants turned also, and they all
began to go slowly down the hill. Jesus watched
them go. Then he said, and his face was tired
and discouraged, and his eyes clouded:
"How hard it is for the rich to enter the King
dom of God. I tell you, Simon, that it is easier
for a camel to enter through the eye of a needle
than for a rich man to come into the kingdom."
Simon was astonished.
"Who, then, can be saved if the rich cannot?"
he asked.
"God is the Awakener of man. With him all
is possible," said Jesus, and he turned to me.

50 By an Unknown Disciple

"Good master  " I began, but he stopped
me. "Do not call me 'good.' No one is good but
God," he said, and suddenly his eyes lit up, and
he questioned:
"Did I not see you at Simon's yesterday? Why
have you come?"
"I, too, would live," I said, and my eyes met
his. He watched me for a moment, and then he
smiled. "The other would not believe, so he
went away," he said.
"So will not I," I answered.
"What! Though you, too, have riches?" he
said, and there was mirth in his eyes as if he
mocked a little, even while he loved.
"All that I have is yours," I replied, and then
he rose up and kissed me, and from that day he
was my friend.

THESE things happened in the spring of the
year. The winter had been long and hard.
The land withered under a bitter wind that blew
day after day, and men wondered if spring would
ever come. Then suddenly the wind changed, and
a soft, warm rain fell. The sun shone, the field
flowers began to push up their heads, and the
surfaces of the roadways, swept by the wind and
washed by the rain, were clean and pleasant to
walk upon. It was in such a time that Jesus set
out on a journey through Galilee. He asked me
to go with him, though he said I should see little
of him.
"I have a work to do," he said, and he looked
me straight in the face as his wont was. "I ask
your help. I cannot give the message where men
will not believe in it, but when I have those with
me who trust me I can deliver it."
I told him I was proud to be of his company,
and he thanked me.
We were a large party. Peter and John were
both there, with Judas Iscariot and the other dis-
51

52 By an Unknown Disciple 
ciples. Nathaniel came too, and Joanna the wife
of Chuza Herod's steward with Suzanna who
brought with them certain other women and pro
visions, which they carried on mules. On the first
day we started at dawn, and walked all the morn
ing. Joanna offered Jesus a mule to ride upon,
but he would not have it, saying he loved to walk.
So he walked too.
For a time that morning Peter and John both
walked with me, and Peter spoke of Joanna and
of how she had offered Jesus the mule.
"She could not see that it would not be meet
for him to go among the poor like a rich man
riding upon a mule. These rich women like to
bring food upon their own beasts, and no one
stops them, though it is not needful. For all men
seek after Jesus, and are glad to receive him into
their houses."
"Why, then, did he tell me that he could not
give his message where men did not believe?" I
asked. "It was his relatives who would not believe,"
Peter answered with indignation. "We believed
at once, and when he chose us they were angry.
There was a day when they came wanting to shut
him up as a madman, for they said he was out
of his mind."
John said,

By an Unknown Disciple 53
"They had known him from birth, and when
the message came to him they did not understand.
Perchance they were too familiar with him to see
clearly. When a man thinks he knows his fel
lows all through, he falls into error. He forgets
the mystery that is in everybody."
Peter answered him hastily, and as he walked
he slashed at the grasses by the side of the road.
"You are making excuse where there is no ex
cuse. They ought to have seen how great a
Prophet he is. We saw it."
But John only smiled, and did not answer him
back. At noon we stopped high up on the hillside to
eat our mid-day meal. Jesus went apart up into
the mountain, and no man followed him. The
women had given us food, and ridden on into
the next village, and when we had eaten we lay
in the shadow of a tall rock and rested.
The sun was hot, but there was a little breeze.
The great plain lay spread out before us with its
forests of oak, arid its olive gardens, its vineyards,
and corn-fields. In the distance were the hills
of Samaria, and the high lands of Judah. The
ragged, woolly sheep fed peacefully near by, and
their shepherd did not disturb us. The other dis
ciples wandered away, but Peter and John stayed,
and Nathaniel. Judas Iscariot, too, sat near us,

54 By an Unknown Disciple
but he did not join in our talk. His grave, dark
face turned now and then to regard us, but for the
most part he gazed on the land before him as if
he brooded over some secret thought.
It was in this wise that I learnt much of Jesus
from those who had been with him from the be
ginning. They 'did not all agree in what they
told me. Nathaniel, whose friend Philip lived
in the same town as Peter, told me of how Philip
had brought him to Jesus.
"Peter and Philip were both there. It was
near Jerusalem by the Jordan where John was
baptizing," he began.
Peter would not let him finish, but interrupted,
saying, "He did not call me at Jerusalem, but at the
lake when I was fishing."
"But you were with Philip at the Jordan too,"
said Nathaniel mildly.
"I had but gone to see John the Baptizer. It
was after that that I was called," said Peter, and
would have disputed the question, but John said,
"What does when or where matter, seeing that
he has called us?" and Peter was silent, and al
lowed Nathaniel to go on.
"Philip told me to come and see a great
Prophet, Jesus of Nazareth, and I asked if any
good could come out of a place like Nazareth."

By an Unknown Disciple 55
"It is a dirty little village, and built in a hole,"
said Peter. "There are no new beautiful build
ings in it as there are in our town, Bethsaida."
And John said,
"The hills around are wonderful. A man can
find freedom there. But go on, Nathaniel. Tell
us more."
"I went with Peter, and when we came to
Jesus, he said he had seen me under the fig tree
when Philip came for me. It could not have been
with his bodily eyes, for he was a long way off.
He has strange powers, but so has many a magi
cian. I did not follow him for that. I followed
because I loved him."
"Magicians are evil," said Peter. "They work
by the power of the Devil. Jesus works only by
the power of God. What you tell us is nothing
compared to what I have seen him do. But see,
the people are coming out from the villages. The
women must have told them that Jesus is here."
We looked, and saw that from all quarters the
people seemed to be coming towards our moun
tain. "I must go and tell Jesus," said Peter, starting
up, and he went away up the mountain to find
him. The people were yet a long way off, and after
a time Nathaniel went on speaking of Jesus.

56  By an Unknown Disciple
"What his powers are I care not," he said.
"Though he is a great prophet, he loves the simple.
He puts his thoughts in such a way that men can
not help remembering them. I am a simple man
myself, and sometimes he has puzzled me, but
when I have thought out his meaning, I can never
forget it. It belongs to me then."
Judas Iscariot suddenly turned his earnest face
to Nathaniel.
"I wish he would speak more plainly," he said.
"The people do not understand these stories of
his." "The people are in need," answered Nathaniel
gently. "I think they do understand, and they
listen because he has something to say that means
life to them."
"They do not understand when he speaks of
the Kingdom. I have seen it," said Judas, and
he rose up and went away.
? "Does he never smile?" I asked, and Nathaniel
replied :
"Judas seeks somewhat. I am sorry for him.
I wonder if he will ever find it."
"I have a fear of him," said John. "He does
not love men."
"Perhaps he loves causes better than men," said
Nathaniel, and then we were silent and spoke
no more, but lay and watched the people as they

By an Unknown Disciple 57
flocked together in groups from the towns and
villages. The shaggy, long-tailed sheep, that at
noontide had been feeding quietly beside us,
moved further off, and when the heat of the day
had past, the mountainside was covered with peo
ple, and the sheep fed peacefully on the heights.
All kinds and sorts of people had come. Dwell
ers in the desert, and rude-looking shepherds in
sheepskin coats mingled with learned Rabbis clad
in long dark robes. Women from the fields car
rying their babies on their backs stood side by side
with tradesmen from the towns, tanners, shoe
makers, and needlemakers, potters, dyers, and
smiths. There were ass-drivers and husbandmen,
carpenters and masons, slaves and tax-gatherers.
It seemed as if all the workers in the world had
come together to hear the teaching of Jesus.
When they saw him coming down the mountain
side, and, from the high ground above them, make
ready to speak to them, there was a noise of
rustling of garments and stirring of feet as they
all settled down in peace to listen.
It was a still, calm evening. On the far-off
mountains the blue light of dusk was already fall
ing. Across the wide plain the children were be
ginning to drive the cattle home, and from the
empty villages thin grey smoke rose straight into
the air.

58 By an Unknown Disciple
Jesus began to speak, and there fell a great si
lence. "I have a new thing to tell you," he said. "I
who speak to you have been sent as a Messenger
to you. God has chosen me as his servant to bring
you good news."
His voice was clear, and every word could be
heard to the uttermost edge of the crowd.
"You all know that to our ancestors it was
said that a day would come when the God of
Heaven himself would set up a kingdom amongst
us that would never be destroyed. The Prophets
have told you how in the day of the great kings
there shall come one like the Son of Man, and
there shall be given him dominion and glory and
a kingdom. And the kingdom shall belong to the
saints of the Most High, and in it all peoples,
nations, and languages shall serve and obey God
for ever. For the Kingdom of Heaven is an ever
lasting kingdom, and the ruler of it is the living
God, who is steadfast for ever. This you have
all heard, and in this hope you have lived. Is it
not so?"
There was a murmur of assent, men saying one
to another that all this they had heard read aloud
on the Sabbath in the synagogues. Then they
turned to listen again.
"The message I have been sent to give will not

By an Unknown Disciple 59
be good news to the rich and the powerful. The
princes and the governors, the captains and the
judges, the treasurers and the counsellors, the
sheriffs and all who rule over men, will not wel
come it. For God has commanded me to tell you
that his Kingdom is already here; yea, though
you know it not, it is now in your midst."
There was a stir in the crowd, and the people
moved like a wave of the sea, as men leant for
ward more eagerly to hear.
"The Kingdom of Heaven does not belong to
those who rule over you. God has not sent me to
the great ones of the earth, but he has told me to
tell the good news to the poor, to all who labour
and are weary, to sinners, and to all who suffer.
He has sent me to you who are in slavery, and told
me to set you free. He has sent me to comfort
the broken-hearted, to open the eyes of the blind,
and to give joy for mourning and beauty for
ashes. God's Kingdom belongs to the poor and
the gentle, to those who hunger and thirst after
goodness, to the clean-minded, to those who
mourn, and to the peacemakers. It is to these
that God speaks."
/ He paused for a moment. Far off on the moun
tain a sheep baaed to its lamb, and the voice of
a herd-child calling to the cattle came from the

60  By an Unknown Disciple
plain below, but no other sound broke the still
ness. Jesus went on speaking.
"God has commanded me that I deliver to you
a new Commandment, the law of the Kingdom,
love one another. No longer, as in the days of
our ancestors, are men to say you must love your
neighbour and hate your enemy, for the new Com
mandment is that you love your enemy also. For
if you love only those who love you, what credit
is that to you? Do not all outcasts do this"?
And if you are only kind to them that are kind
to you, what thanks do you deserve? That is not
God's way. He is kind to the thankless and to
the bad. Therefore, I say unto you, you must
love your enemies, and show kindness to those who
hate you, and if men injure you, you must not
seek for revenge. Our ancestors ordained, 'An
eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth,' but I
say unto you, you must not even oppose wrong to
wrong. You must act to other people as you
would wish them to act to you. If you have in
jured a man, it does not help you to be sorry for
it if he hurts you back again. If you have done a
wrong, it does not make you haste to repair it if
men do another wrong to you. I say unto you
that wrong can never be appeased by wrong. It
can be swallowed up and blotted out by kindness
only. Therefore, you must be gentle to those who

By an Unknown Disciple 61
are cruel to you, you must be merciful, you must
not show contempt, you must not judge. You
must forgive and be generous. And you must
never despair, but go on being kind to all men,
looking for no reward. These are the laws of the
Kingdom of God." X
Darkness had fallen now, and the land lay
dim around us. There was scarce light enough
to see the face of Jesus, but his voice rose clearly
out of the darkness.
"To what shall I compare the power of love?
It is like yeast that a woman hides in a measure
of meal, and which spreads unseen till the whole
measure is leavened. It is like mustard seed,
small in itself, which shoots up and becomes so
high that the wild birds find cover in it. It is like
a farmer who sows his seed, and then watches first
the blade push through the ground, and then the
ear, and then the grain swelling and hardening.
He knows not how it grows, for the earth seems
to bring forth the fruit of herself. So is the growth
of love.
"When all men love one another, God's king
dom will be fully here. In that day, as our
prophets have said, nation will no more rise up
against nation, neither shall men learn war any
more. But they shall beat their swords into
ploughshares, and their spears into reaping hooks,

62 By an Unknown Disciple 
and war shall cease from amongst you. This, too,
I say unto you. But you must first love one
another." He ceased. No man broke the silence. One
by one the stars had begun to shine above us,
and from behind the dark mountains the moon
pushed her way into the high heavens.
Jesus spoke again.
"If you walk in God's paths, so long as the
moon endureth there shall be an abundance of
peace, for God himself will teach you of his ways.
See. The night has now come, and it is time for
you to be in your homes. Go, and peace be upon
you." There was a noise of stirring, as men gathered
up their garments, and still in silence prepared to
go their ways. Then, above the sound of the
moving multitude, a woman's voice rose high and
shrill, and the people paused to listen as she cried
aloud. "Oh, Teacher, I say unto you, Blessed be the
womb that bore you, and the breasts that gave
you suck."
Her words died on the air, and out of the night
the voice of Jesus answered, clear and courteous,
"Nay, mistress, say rather, Blessed are those
who hear the word of God and do it. Go, and
God be with you."

By an Unknown Disciple 63
There came again that noise of the scuffling of
feet and the moving of a great multitude, and the
people went to their homes in the darkness.
I am old now, and near my death. It is nigh
three score years since I last heard him speak, but
I still hear his voice, the beautiful voice reach
ing out of the darkness, "But I say unto you, Be
kind and forgive. Seek no revenge, but love one
another. Yea, never despairing, love even those
who most bitterly wrong you."

VI

GALILEE is a small country, and during that
tour we tramped all over it, and there was
a great stir amongst the people. Once, when Jesus
had gone into a lonely place to be quiet, a crowd
of villagers sought him out and tried to prevent
him from leaving them. But he said, "I must
take the good news of the Kingdom of God to the
other towns also, for that is why I was sent."
And so he went on from village to village, and the
crowds followed him.
At first it was only of the Kingdom of God
that Jesus talked. Later, he told the people other
things, but in Galilee he taught them daily of the
Kingdom, and healed many of their sick. He had
the gift of bestowing more life, though he used
none of the ways of the wandering magicians who
also healed disease. He drew no circles and re
cited no incantations, nor did he burn incense, or
give the sick charms to eat against demons, but
he put his hands on those who suffered, and the
simple people said that a virtue went out from
him, so that their pains and aches left them, and
64

By an Unknown Disciple 65
peace and ease came back. His hands were strong
and well-balanced, and comforted all whom they
touched. I, too, have felt that virtue, for if by
chance in walking he laid a hand on my shoulder,
I felt more alive. I marked, too, that when he
came amongst us, ordinary things seemed note
worthy, and common events had more of rarity.
The field flowers were more beautiful, and the
sky of a deeper blue when he was near. Life,
when we saw it through his eyes, was full of
divinity, and held nothing meaningless or dull.
The teaching was to me greater by far than
the healings, for I felt that it freed men from
burdens heavier than all their diseases. The Jew
ish religion laid a heavy yoke upon men. The
Rabbis taught that our God, who was the one
true God, had chosen our race to be his people,
and an example to all other races. The other
races were for ever shut out from the mercy of
God, who would one day send a Deliverer to free
our nation. We, the chosen, were commanded to
do this small thing, or forbidden to do the other,
on pain of God's displeasure, so that God himself
seemed a taskmaster who demanded more than
man had strength to render. I had often in my
soul rebelled against the teaching, and seeing the
hold the Romans had over the land, I felt that the
Rabbis taught much of which they were ignorant.

66 By an Unknown Disciple
The God of the Jews was a narrow and jealous
God, whom a free man would be ashamed to wor
ship. But the teaching of Jesus freed my mind.
When he talked of God, no rebellion was pas
sible, for he spoke of what he knew. He did not
teach as the Rabbis did, as if the mystery of the
knowledge of God was too great for an ignorant
man to understand, nor did he talk of the care
and ceremony with which God was to be ap
proached. He spoke as if all men might know
God if they had but the will. When he talked
of God's love for man, and of what God asked
from man, I felt he told us of what he himself
had learnt, and of what I, too, could learn. It
seemed that even the most simple could under
stand. Seeing the power that Jesus had to add to the
worth of the life of men I did not marvel when I
saw that the people paid more heed to his heal
ings than to his teachings, but I wondered when
I saw that many of the disciples did so too. Some
even of the Twelve when they spoke of his power
liked more to tell of the demons who had been
cast out, or of the lame who walked, and the
blind who saw, than to spread the news that God
only asked of men that they should love one
another. During that journey through Galilee, I made

By an Unknown Disciple 67
acquaintance with all the followers of Jesus, and
learnt to know their ways. There were great dis
cussions amongst them, and sometimes, like a
*sudden storm, disputings would arise, and a clash
of ideas, so that after a time I learnt to gauge the
nature of each man by the meaning which he put
into the teaching, and I saw that few, save Na
thaniel, read it as I did.
When Jesus walked with us, all went well, for
he was gay of heart, and had a way of linking
men together. He brought with him a feeling of
kindliness and understanding which made all
things seem possible, so that as we talked, no man
spoke evil of another, and when we discussed it
was without floutings and carpings. We were
his friends, and therefore friends one of another.
His sympathy softened the hearts of men, so that
they saw graces in their fellows to which they
had been blind before. When he was there, all
the diverse natures of his followers seemed to meet
and blend, for he charmed and held even those
most different from him. It may be that men love
most readily their opposites, who have the gifts
they lack, for how else could Jesus have attracted
and held men like Matthew the publican (whom
Simon said he had bewitched), or Judas Iscariot?
Jesus loved freedom and gaiety, and looked only
at the spirit. He had a mind swift as a kite, but

€8 By an Unknown Disciple
Matthew had a hard, dry mind, that paid great
need to the letter of the Law and to the Prophets.
He clung to Jewish tradition, even though he had
taken service under the Romans. He was slow-'
minded, and chewed his opinions as a cow chews
the cud.
Judas Iscariot, too, was of a nature different
from that of Jesus. He was a Judean, and the
other disciples were of Galilee, which caused some
jealousy, for the Judeans are of a harder, shrewder
make than the simple Galileans. Judas was a
good manager, and not careless about goods as the
others were, spending in one day all that they
had, and never looking to the future. He planned
all out, and allotted to each man his share. He
did not heed if any wasted his substance and asked
for more. He would not give it, thinking that
misfortune must follow the improvident. And
yet Judas had great thoughts, and when he talked,
he held men's minds. He did not often speak
to us, but sometimes when Jesus was there, Judas
(as if he felt Jesus was the only one who under
stood) would begin and would talk for long. He
did not share his thoughts or look for those of
other men as Jesus did. Judas gave out his mind as
if it mattered not to him whether the listeners
agreed or not. He did not want to mingle the
thoughts of others with his own. He was satis-

By an Unknown Disoiple 69
fied with his own mind, and had no wish to change
it. There were rumours that his father had been
in the service of the Romans, and that he him
self had been a page in their courts, but I never
learnt the truth of these. If it were true he had
seen much evil amongst our conquerers, for he
hated them and looked for a day when he as a Jew
would dominate over them and force his righteous
ness upon the world. Judas never doubted of the
righteousness of the Jews or of his own, and, in
deed, he was righteous in that he seldom thought
of his own comfort. Yet, when I heard him talk I
felt that to gain his end he would spare neither
himself nor others, but would run his course as
a mad dog does, looking neither to right nor to
left. Peter sometimes spoke hastily to Judas, for
Peter was of a hasty nature, and, like a child,
he spoke his mind if he was angry. Like a child,
too, he changed his mind from day to day, loving
and hating as a child does in gusts, and changing
his opinions as his feelings changed. Peter was
not clever like Judas, and grew restive when mat
ters above his understanding were talked of. He
had a blustering way with him, but I think that
he blustered because he was uncertain of himself,
as you may see one who has no self-confidence
assert his power unduly as if to reassure himself.

70 By an Unknown Disciple
Peter's assertion was the outer side of his nature.
On the inner was his diffidence. Jesus could calm
him by a look. He often kept Peter's temper for
him when he was on the edge of an outbreak, and
Peter showed his gratitude like a dog. He fol
lowed Jesus blindly, and was jealous of others.
who came near him.
John, too, gentle and dreamy and loving, was.
jealous when the flood of talk came on Judas,
and Jesus listened. John's mind was not a clear
one, and he was torn between stronger minds like
those of Peter and Judas. For Peter, when he
held an opinion, held it with vehemence, and
would have all men hold it too, while Judas was
so set on his own views that he never saw when
others differed, and so, by his ignoring of them,
made simple kindly souls like John feel as if they-
had ceased to exist. I have seen John angry when
Judas in his talk ignored even Jesus; but
Jesus was not angry, but watched Judas with in
terest, listening while he spoke of the evils of the
Roman system and of how things ought to be.
The women of the party were not inclined to
dispute, and, indeed, we saw little of them, for
they occupied themselves with serving. But some
times Mary of Magdala, who, having been a har
lot, was accustomed to talk to men, came and
talked with us. I mind me that on one of these

By an Unknown Disciple 71
days there was a sharp discussion amongst the
disciples. It was the first time that I had seen
Mary since our start. Jesus had gone aside up the
mountain to pray, and we waited in the shadow
of an oak grove till he should return and we start
again. I sat on the edge of the grove somewhat
apart, and when I saw a woman coming I did not
at first see that it was Mary, for she was dressed
like a woman of the people in a coarse blue gar
ment. Her hair was plainly braided, and there
was no paint on her face. She was beautiful still,
but the change was so great that for a moment I
stood aghast, and Mary laughed.
"You see I am no longer clad like a King's
daughter," she said.
"But your clothes were beautiful, Mary," I
answered with somewhat of regret.
"Yes; but their beauty was branded. Some
day I shall wear as beautiful, but till the King
dom comes I wear this," and she touched her
coarse garment.
"Is not the Kingdom here already?" I asked.
"Not for me," she answered sadly, so that I
asked hastily,
"Are you not happy, Mary?"
"How can I be happy till my soul is clean?
My tears have but washed the paint from my
face," she replied.

72 By an Unknown Disciple
Some of the others seeing us talking had drawn
near, for Mary was like wine to men and they
still sought her. Even now, when she no longer
wished to rouse their bodily desires, she stirred
and excited their minds, and till her death she
held them.
Peter, hearing the sadness in her voice, said in
his hasty way with something of self-importance
in his tone,
"Men do not condemn you, Mary."
Whereupon Mary, with a flash of her old tem
per, answered,
"It matters not to me whether men condemn
me or not. What sins I committed they shared.
I know men too well to value their judgment."
"Jesus did not come to condemn the world, but
to save it," said John.
"Jesus did not condemn me," said Mary. "I
condemn myself. My punishment for having
lived a dirty life is to see the beauty of a clean
one, and he showed me that. It is enough."
Suddenly Judas Iscariot spoke, sweeping the
other talk aside, as if such personal things mat
tered naught.
"Why did you say the Kingdom was here?"
he asked me, and I, somewhat surprised, said,
"Did not Jesus say so?"
"Jesus knows well that the Kingdom cannot

By an Unknown Disciple 73
be established so easily. There is too much power
on the side of the oppressors."
"But Judas, Jesus said nothing of oppressors,"
said Nathaniel.
"Jesus knows the time is not ripe yet, though
it soon may be. See how the people follow him,"
said Judas darkly.
"I don't know what you mean," said Peter.
"A wise man's eyes are in his head, while a fool
walketh without eyes," answered Judas. "The
oppression in Galilee is not so heavy as in Judea."
"I suppose you mean me," Peter retorted hotly.
"I know I am an ignorant man, but I'm not such
a fool as you think. You speak of the Romans.
You are a Judean. You think too much of the
Romans. We do not bother about them in Gali
lee." "Is it wise to mention names?" Judas replied.
"When I hear it said that the Kingdom is here
already, I marvel if men know aught of the con
dition of this country or how we must work to
better it. If the Judeans follow as these Galileans
do, the Kingdom may soon be here. But there
must be no division between Judean and Galilean.
We want a plan. It would be madness and folly
to try to establish the Kingdom without unity."
"But that is what Jesus always teaches," cried
John.

74 By an Unknown Disciple
"Jesus is wise. He knows that to every pur
pose there is time and judgment," said Judas.
"What purpose do you speak of?" asked Na
thaniel. Mary, who had been watching Judas,
cried out,
"He speaks of the Romans. He wants to up
set their rule."
"Can God reign in Judea if the Romans are
still there?" asked Judas; and we all stood silent,
wondering at the meaning he put into the teach
ing. At last, I, seeing that division might come
upon us, said,
"Jesus spoke of a different Kingdom. He does
not think of rebellion."
"It is a kingdom of the heart, a heavenly king
dom," said Nathaniel.
"But it is to be established on earth according
to the prophecies," said Matthew. And Peter,
hesitating, said, as if he spoke to himself,
"He said the Kingdom did not belong to those
who rule over us."
"He said the Rulers and Governors would not
welcome it," Judas answered him.
"God could reign in Galilee," said John.
"But not in Judea," cried Judas. "The Ro
mans must be driven forth if God is to rule over
Israel. It has long been in my mind, and Jesus

By an Unknown Disciple 75
is coming to see it too. Mark the last time I
talked to him. One day he will do it."
"I am sure you misread him, Judas," said Na
thaniel. "Why else do the people follow?" said Judas,
and then Mary, springing from the ground, cried
out, "Here is Jesus himself. Let us ask him."
Jesus was coming down the mountainside, and
we all went out to meet him. When he was near,
Peter hurried a pace or two in advance and burst
into speech.
"Master! Judas would rid us of all oppres
sors." There was a tranquillity on the face of Jesus
and a light in his eyes as if he had looked upon
things unseen. He turned to Judas, "What op
pressors?" he asked, and sat down on a big stone
to hear.
"The oppressors of our nation," said Judas.
"You have seen the oppression of the poor and
the violent perverting of justice and judgment in
the province. The oppressors must be driven forth
if the Kingdom is to be established. Seeing the
power you have over the people, I have told them
you will end the oppression."
"By driving forth the oppressors?" asked Jesus.
"Yes," cried Judas. "By thrusting them into

76 By an Unknown Disciple 
the sea. By breaking their Empire in pieces, and
humbling them so that they whisper out of the
dust." When Judas finished, Jesus rose and from the
height on which we stood, he looked over the
plain below with all its signs of the works of men,
its villages and its towns, its crops and woods, and
far in the distance the tiny ships on the blue line
of the sea. He seemed to withdraw into himself
as if to gather strength, and then he turned again
to Judas, and his face was full of graciousness,
like one of the holy angels.
"Will that end oppression?" he asked, and
waited for a reply.
None came, for with the question we all, even
Judas, fell silent, and after a space Jesus turned
him about, and we started again on our journey.

VII
SOMEWHERE near Rameh, on our way to
the coast, we left the hill-tracks that led
from village to village, and struck into the great
west road, the Way of the Sea, that runs from
Damascus to the Roman seaport of Ptolemais.
Matthew knew this road well, for its way lay
round the north end of the lake, and at Capernaum
where it forked, one branch running north and the
other south to join the great road to the east, he
had sat at its custom house gathering the tolls
which the Romans levied for its upkeep on all the
travellers who used it. Jesus knew it too, for it
passed some miles north of Nazareth, where he
had spent his boyhood, but he knew the other road
that ran across Galilee better. This, the great
road of the East, ran south of Nazareth nearer
the village and linked the sea coast with the Greek
cities and with Arabia.
As we walked down the hillside to join the Via
Maris, there was much talk amongst us of these
and of other roads which the Romans had paved ;
for at one time or another we had all travelled
along them, and there is no talk so engrossing as
77

78 By an Unknown Disciple
the talk of roads. Jesus told us of how as a boy,
when he had had a day's freedom from work, he
had loved to walk the miles that lay between Naz
areth and the great road to the East, merely to sit
by the roadside and watch the traffic that passed
along it. He told of the caravans bearing iron
and tin that went from the sea to Arabia, and of
the wild herdsmen who passed from Arabia to the
sea, driving flocks of sheep, of rams, and of goats.
He spoke of the chariots and the merchants that
went to and fro, and of the sound of the trampling
of the legions as they marched on their way f»
Rome to the Greek cities and the far-off frontiers
of the Empire.
"You may see in a day's walk the might of all
the kingdoms of this world pass along it," he said.
We reached the road, and stopped for a mo
ment to watch in the distance the dust of an ap
proaching caravan.
"They go to Damascus," said Jesus, and Mat
thew answered,
"The Romans have made all travel easy. I al
ways say that from Damascus you may now reach
Baghdad and the Indies as easily as a man may
go from Jerusalem to Jericho."
"Easier! There are fewer thieves," cried Peter,
with a glance at Judas Iscariot, but Jesus, as if
he put the challenge aside, said,

By an Unknown Disciple 79
"The road to Damascus is broad, but from Jeru
salem to Jericho is a dangerous way, where thieves
may lurk."
He led the way into the division of the road
reserved for foot passengers, and we walked on
towards the cloud of dust with dim forms loom
ing in it that marked the caravan.
When we came up to it, we stood on the road
side to watch it pass. The evil-faced camels
swayed on their way, loaded with chests bound
with cords and with bales shipped from the ports
of Tarshish to the quays of Ptolemais. The tur
bans of the men were bound with ropes of hair,
and their open coats showed their brown, hairy
chests. One trudged in the dust, while another
ran forward with cries to strike an unruly beast
on the flank. The dust of the road lay thick upon
men and camels. Once and again a whiff of sweet
scent came from the loads as if the boxes still
held the spices with which they had travelled to
Ptolemais or to Tyre. Then the scent died away,
the smell of dust, and of sweat, of men, and of
camels prevailed, and with shouts from the drivers
and the soft thud of the pads of the camels, the
caravan passed on to the East.
Jesus watched it grow small in the distance.
"Such sights held me as a boy, and they still
hold me/' he said. "What treasure has passed

80 By an Unknown Disciple 
along this road for Damascus or the fairs of Tyre.
Emeralds and wheat, honey and oil and balm, fine
linen and embroidered goods, iron, cassia and cal
amus, white wool, ivory and ebony," he quoted
as if he loved the beauty of the words.
"Men from Assyria, Babylon, and Nineveh, too,
have walked on this road."
"The Romans now walk in their places," said
Judas bitterly.
"That caravan will cross the Jordan by the
Bridge of the Daughters of Jacob," said Matthew.
"Often after harvest when the wheat is being
moved, the camels pass all night long, never ceas
ing." We went on towards the sea, and descended to
the coast plain to a village where the women, who
had gone on before us, had prepared places for
us to sleep. Here, at the gate, the head-man, with
most of the villages, was waiting to receive Jesus.
It was a poor village of poor houses, and the head
man himself was in poverty. His clothing was
worn, and his eyes had an anxious look as if to
feed so many guests would be a burden. He led
the way into his house, and his wife came forward
to welcome us.
"May a blessing rest upon this house," said
Jesus. "May a blessing rest upon you. You are wel-

By an Unknown Disciple 81
come, sir," said the woman. The head-man
showed us where to sit, and his wife began to pre
pare food to set before us. It was the poor house
of a hard-working family. The few beasts in the
stalls were thin, and there was not much fodder
piled against the wall. The clothing of the woman
was old, and on her patient face there were lines
of suffering and of care. The meal which she
offered to us generously was poor, too, as if the
corn-bins did not hold much grain. Jesus asked
her if she had children, and she said they were
with the sheep, and had not yet come in. The
land was poor here, and they had sometimes to
go far for pasture. They would be back by night
fall. Before the meal was over there was a commo
tion at the door, and two tall lads and a small,
bright-eyed girl came in, driving some sheep be
fore them.
"Here are the children," said their mother,
hastening forward to greet them and to drive the
sheep into the pen. There were not many sheep,
and the guests all helped to pen them, so this job-
was soon done, the woman making excuses to
Jesus for the noise. Then she took their empty
scrips from the children, and giving them each
a piece of bread, set them down in a corner and
told them to keep quiet. The boys seeing Jesus

82 By an Unknown Disciple 
in the place of honour sat still and watched him
as they ate their supper, but the girl, after one or
two hesitating looks, gradually edged nearer and
nearer until at last she leant against Jesus, press
ing her small body close to his as she munched her
bread. The mother would have sent her away.
"You must not trouble the guests. I am afraid
she will weary you, sir," she said, but Jesus put
his arm round the child and said,
"Do not send her away. Let her stay with me.
It is to the childlike that the Kingdom of Heaven
belongs." When we had finished our food, the head-man
said to Jesus,
"You are a Prophet, sir, and we would hear
your message. Many of our friends have gone to
hear you, but we are poor and cannot often find
time to leave our work."
So Jesus taught them. We were all there, and
the women too, and the friends of the head-man
and many of the villagers. It was a large room
and there was space for all. Jesus talked to the
man and woman of the house, and we listened.
"Once upon a time," he began, "there was a
rich man, and his land was very fertile. It was
so fertile that he began to ask himself, 'What shall
I do? I have so many crops that I have no place
to store them.' He thought for a while, and then

By an Unknown Disciple 83
he said, 1 know what I will do. I will pull down
these old barns, and in their place I will build fine
new ones, large enough to store all my grain. I
will put all my other spare goods in them. When
I have done this, I shall have plenty of good
things stored by for years to come, and I will take
my ease. I will eat and drink and enjoy myself.'
But that night God spoke to that rich man and
said, " 'You fool ! This very night I am going to
take away your soul, and who will then have all
these goods that you have laid by?' "
Jesus stopped for a moment, and his eyes met
the anxious eyes of the man, who was regarding
him with a puzzled look.
"So it will always be with those who lay by
wealth for themselves, and who do not seek to add
to God's glory by doing good work," he said.
"That is why I say to you, do not be anxious about
your life here, about what you can get to eat, nor
yet about your body, what you are to wear. Can
any of us by mere anxiety prolong his life for one
moment? So if you cannot do even this smallest
thing, why be anxious about other things? God
is your Father, and he gave you life. Is not life
a greater gift than food, and your body more won
derful than its clothes? Your Father knows that

84 By an Unknown Disciple
you need all these things. Will he not give them
also to you?"
The anxiety in the man's eyes had given place
to interest. He sighed as if in relief and listened
eagerly as Jesus went on.
"Think of the ravens. They do not sow or
reap. They have neither storehouses nor barns,
and yet God feeds them. Are you not as precious
to God as the birds are? Think of the wild lilies
and how they grow. They do not toil or spin,
and yet I tell you that Solomon in all his glory
was never robed with beauty like theirs."
His eyes lingered with tenderness on the patient
face of the woman, and he drew the little girl still
closer as he said,
"If God so clothe the field flowers which are liv
ing to-day and to-morrow will be burnt up in your
oven, will he not also clothe you, O woman of lit
tle faith?"
The eyes of the woman filled with tears, but she
did not answer.
"If this child here asked you for a loaf, would
you give her a stone? If she asked a fish, would
you give her a snake? If you, then, being imper
fect, wish to give her good gifts, will not God,
who is all good, give you help when you ask it?"
The woman wiped the tears from her eyes with
a corner of her ragged veil, but she still did not

By an Unknown Disciple 85
speak. The two boys had drawn near, and now
leant- against Jesus. The small girl had climbed
to his lap, and was fast asleep with her head on
his shoulder. Jesus went on,
"As we came by the Way of the Sea to-day, we
met a caravan going with treasure to Damascus.
Daily you see them pass ; for after all these things
do the nations seek. But I say unto you that God
does not wish you to store up treasure on earth,
for where you have your treasure your heart will
be also, and you will be too anxious about it to
think of God. For the moth eats all treasure here,
and rust bites into it. Thieves, too, break in and
steal it. What think you? If you love the things
of this world will not your heart be with them,
while if you love the things God loves will not
your heart be with God? Can any man serve two
masters? Will he not love one and hate the
other? You cannot serve both God and riches."
The man of the house straightened his shoul
ders as if he cast a weight from his back. He
looked at his wife, and she met his eyes with a
question in hers. It was as if hope had entered
their hearts.
Jesus went on speaking to them.
"When you welcomed me to-day you welcomed
God who has sent me as his messenger. Therefore,
it is in God's name that I tell you that your Father

86 By an Unknown Disciple
cares for you. God's message is, 'Come unto me
all you who toil and bear burdens, and I will give
you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and leam to
be gentle and lowly minded. Walk in the good
way, and you shall find rest for your souls.' For
God's yoke is easy, and burdens bome for him feel
light." He ceased speaking. The small girl roused
herself, and half-lifting her head from his shoulder
spoke in a sleepy voice.
"Tell me more about the ravens," she com
manded, and at once fell asleep again. We all
laughed, and Jesus, holding the child with care,
rose from his seat.
"It is time for her to be in bed," he said, and
put her into her mother's arms, and the woman,
the lines smoothed from her face, and a new peace
in her eyes, took the child and bore her away.
And then we all went to our rest.

VIII
ON our way to Tyre we turned aside and
walked across the plain of Ptolemais to see
that city. There was a throng round the gate. A
camel caravan crowded up the great door, and
some horsemen waited impatiently outside, sooth
ing their frightened horses, while the camels, who
make haste for no man, stepped slowly forth, bob
bing their heads. It was some time before all was
clear, and we could pay our tolls and pass through
the small gate into the city. This sea-town was
full of foreigners, and speech with them was dif
ficult, for though Jesus and some others of us
knew Greek, we did not speak it as our mother
tongue. The settled inhabitants were too busy
to listen to teaching, and the sailors were full of
their work, and did not wish to hear. Some of
them knew no Greek, but spoke barbarous tongues
which we had never heard before, so Jesus did not
try to talk to them, but went about with us to see
the sights.
The centre place of the city was packed with
thousands of camels and tens of thousands of
87

88 By an Unknown Disciple 
sheep. The air was filled with the complaints
of the sheep and the cries of the men who shep
herded them. Near the shops rows of the camels
lay in the dust, and we watched while their dou
bled back knee joints were bound round with
string to keep them from rising till men had tied
on their packs the bales brought from the ware
houses. When a camel was loaded its knee was
unbound and the great beast rose rocking under
its load. Then another was led up and forced to
kneel and take its place.
There were many signs of the Roman power in
Ptolemais. The streets were paved, a gang of
slaves, working under the lash of a Roman fore
man, was laying out a new road, and as we went
out of the market-place to the sea we met a squad
of soldiers marching in helmets and breastplates^
and commanded by a hard-faced centurion. We
passed by the temple to Jupiter, built in the Greek
style, and Jesus stopped to watch the worshippers
of this god as they passed in and out of the por
tico. Judas Iscariot's face wore a bitter look when
he saw the tranquillity of Jesus before this heathen
temple. "They have worshipped false gods here ever
since Alexander the Greek took this city. It has
never been a city of the Jews," he said, for he
knew much history.

By an Unknown Disciple 89
Jesus did not answer, but Matthew made reply.
"The Canaanites worshipped false gods too.
Pity was we did not take the city from them when
Pharaoh released us after taking us captive to
work for him in Egypt. If Moses had lived . . ."
Judas cut him short.
"Moses sinned, and his work failed. It is al
ways so with our leaders. They do not complete
the work. They left this coast in the hands of
foreigners, and through their open seaports all
manner of abominations have come. Now the
Romans are paving ways over all our land for
their wickedness to walk on. Soon we shall cease
to be a nation."
No one answered, for Judas's denunciations
tired the mind, and we wanted to watch the sights.
We walked on in silence till we reached the quays.
Here were more signs of the strength of the
Romans. A galley was clearing the harbour, and
we could hear the clank of the oars as the chained
prisoners strained their way out to sea. Many
ships lay by the quay-side, loading and unloading.
On one quay an elephant stacked balks of timber
that had come from Lebanon, while on another
crates of wild beasts, hyanas and lions from the
Arabian desert, waited to be hoisted into a ship,
the miserable creatures roaring in their narrow
cages on their way to the games in Rome.

90 By an Unknown Disciple 
The business and bustle all around, and the
many strange sights of the city stirred the blood
of the disciples. Peter's eyes shone, and he was
excited as he went from ship to ship to see their
tackle and with what each was loading, and the
others followed him. But Jesus stood before the
poor caged beasts, and looked at them with com
passion. His face was sad, and after a time he
turned and led the way from the quays to where,
by steps, we could reach the beach. I alone fol
lowed, and we walked along the sand in the direc
tion of Tyre. When we had got some way from
Ptolemais, so that its roofs only showed in the
distance, with Mount Carmel behind them, we sat
down on the sand-hills to wait for the others. The
afternoon breeze had begun to blow up from the
sea. Behind us a clump of palms rattled their
branches together in the wind as if they clapped
their hands, and in front the strong waves broke
in long lines of foam on the shore. After the tur
moil of the city there was soothing in the roar of
the sea and the harsh rattle of the palms.
Jesus sat watching it all. Once he said, half
to me, half to himself,
"God is holy in all his works," and then he fell
silent again.
So we sat and spoke no more until the others
came up weary of sight-seeing, but excited still

By an Unknown Disciple 91
with all they had seen. Jesus told them to rest,
for we had a long walk before us. We were to
sleep in a village somewhat short of Tyre that
night, so they threw themselves down on the
sandhills and took out bread and ate.
Peter talked of the tall houses of Tyre that we
should see on the morrow, and of all the wonders
they had seen that day, and Jesus asked Judas if
he knew the histories of Ptolemais and of Tyre.
And so, as we lay there on the sand-hills, Judas
told of the glories these cities had seen, and of the
Kings who had ruled over them. He told of how
Cleopatra had come up from Egypt with her lit
ters and her chariots and horsemen to be married
to Alexander Balas in Ptolemais with great pomp,
as is the manner of kings; and of how this same
Alexander had robed Jonathan Maccabeus with
purple in the centre place of the city, giving him
great honour so that his enemies fled from before
him. "In the very same market-place where we have
but now seen the camels," said Judas. And then
he told of the death of Jonathan, treacherously
slain by King Tryphon within the walls of Pto
lemais. "Jonathan was brother of Judas, who made a
treaty with Rome, and so brought the present mis
ery upon us," said Judas.

92 By an Unknown Disciple 
"Should we have been a kingdom now if he
had conquered without the Roman help?" asked
Peter, who forgot the enmity he had for Judas,
as he listened to his talk.
"Our rulers have always betrayed us," an
swered Judas. "God gave us this land, but these
foreign kings made it their battlefield, and our
rulers sought their friendship. What are we even
now but a bridge between nations? These dogs
of foreigners walk over us as if we did not count!"
"But we have risen against them," cried Peter.
"The Galileans have always fought, looking for
a Deliverer." "We Jews always think each new rising will
bring forth a Messiah," said Nathaniel.
"There have been Messiahs in plenty, but they
have not freed us," said Judas.
"Shall we ever be free?" Peter persisted.
"How can we endure being governed by stran
gers?" Judas asked, and Matthew replied,
"It is our own fault that the Romans hold the
power they do. We do not govern as well as
they." "It is our rulers, I tell you," said Judas. "Even
now the High Priest is a friend to Pilate. I know.
Do I not come from Judea? Pilate would like
us to follow the custom of the Romans, who make
their Emperors gods and worship them. And

By an Unknown Disciple 93
they do not govern as well as you say, Matthew.
Look at these things !" And he went on to tell of
how the conquerors had plundered the poor, rob
bing them of all they had, until no man was se
cure and the whole land was overrun with thieves
and rebels. And Simon and Jude, who were shep
herds and had fed their flocks on the hills of Gali
lee before they followed Jesus, joined in the talk,
and told of how men had stolen their sheep, and
of how they had to take refuge in the caves to
hide from the robbers. These things we all knew,
and Peter grew weary of listening, and urged
Judas to tell more tales, and so Judas told of
Alexander the Greek and how he had besieged
Tyre, and of the mole which he had built into
the sea to bring his engines of war against the
walls of the city, which mole was now a causeway,
having silted up with sand, so that men walked
dry shod over it. Then he told of wars with the
Egyptians and the Arabians and with men from
the north, until there seemed no end to the con
querors of our nation. Suddenly Judas slacked
in his talk, and turned to Jesus and said, and his
dark eyes glowed with the fire that was in him,
"Master, will you not give us the kingdom?"
Jesus bent his eyes on Judas, and his face was
kind but wistful as he answered.

94 By an Unknown Disciple
"I cannot give any man the kingdom, Judas.
He must take it for himself."
Peter burst in excitedly.
"When we have taken it who shall rule over
us? What place shall we have? Shall we do
great deeds like these kings?"
"You shall do greater deeds than these," said
Jesus. "What deeds?" cried Peter, and the others
moved nearer to hear too.
"You could not understand if I told you now,"
said Jesus, tranquilly.
"Is it something hidden?" Peter asked in a
low voice, looking at the other disciples.
"I have no secrets," said Jesus. And then he
laughed and, teasing Peter, said,
"When you light a lamp, Peter, do you put a
corn measure over it? Or hide it under the bed?
Do not be afraid. Truth cannot be kept hidden.
What I teach you in the dark say again in the
light, and what I whisper in your ear shout from
the housetops."
"Then why will you not tell us now?" said
Peter. "Your mind is full of other things, and you
would not have ears to hear. Take care how you
listen when you are not in a mood to understand."
Peter went on urging him to tell, but Jesus

By an Unknown Disciple 95
shook his head and refused to answer. At last he
said, "It is not good to let your mind waver between
Yea and Nay," and then he rose, and shaking
the sand from his clothing, said : "Come, it is time
to be going if we are to reach shelter before night
fall." Peter followed him silently, puzzling over his
meaning. Judas walked with me, but he was si
lent too, his face dark and gloomy. Once he mut
tered to himself, "Playing with children and with
Peter will not give us the Kingdom."
It was late when we reached the village in which
we were to sleep, and we were all tired out and
footsore. Jesus told us to tell no one we had come,
so that we could go straightway into the house
and rest. He himself had had little to eat all day,
and when he came into the lighted room, I saw
that he was covered with the dust of the road, and
that his face was weary.
The woman of the house greeted us and offered
water to wash, and then she said in apology ta
Jesus, for she saw how tired he was,
"There is a woman here, a Greek, a native of
this place. She has been waiting to see you, sir."
I was about to ask him not to see her now, when
the Greek woman came swiftly out of the shadow
where she had been sitting, and knelt before Jesus.

96 By an Unknown Disciple 
She was a young woman and in great distress.
Her face was white with anxiety as she looked up
at him.
"Sir," she said, "I hear you are a Prophet, and
have the gift of healing. My daughter is ill. I
entreat you to come and cure her."
For a moment Jesus hesitated (and indeed he
was very tired), and seeing this the woman cried
out like a child,
"Oh, sir, I forgot that you are a Jew, and that
the Jews think they alone are children of God, and
look upon all Greeks as dogs."
And in an agony of disappointment she bowed
her head over the feet of Jesus, holding them with
her hands.
There was a smile in the eyes of Jesus, but his
voice was grave as he answered,
"Do you think it fair to take the children's
bread and throw it to dogs?"
The woman raised her head. Her bright eyes
gleamed with sudden mirth through the tears that
brimmed their lids, and she spoke swiftly,
"No, sir, but the dogs under the table feed on
the children's crumbs"; and then the tears over
flowed and ran down her cheeks, and she bowed
herself together to hide them.
Jesus touched her on the shoulder.
"You are a witty woman. Of course I will

By an Unknown Disciple 97
come and heal your daughter," he said, and the
woman as if she scarcely believed she heard aright
rose to her feet and, dashing the tears from her
eyes, led him away.

IX

IT was under the cedars of Lebanon, where Her-
mon looks down on the sources of the Jordan,
that Jesus told us of the great deeds he asked from
his followers.
We had left the racket of the coast towns far
behind us. The people from the villages round
Tyre and Sidon who had followed Jesus for days
had said farewell with sorrow when we came to
the high lands of Naphtali, where the bad road
runs from the coast to Damascus. The country
was disturbed, and in the rugged mountains north
of Dan, where the cold is always at home, there
were robbers ; so now that the crops were ripening
it was not safe to leave them unguarded. It had
been lonely on the road when the villages left us.
Caravans did not often use this way, and we were
the only travellers. At first, some of the disciples
carried with them the mood which they had caught
in the cities, but slowly as we walked the keen air
and the freedom of the wide views around had re
stored them to another mind. Peter had ceased to
talk of the sights he had seen in Tyre, of the tall
98

By an Unknown Disciple 99
houses crowded together on its island site, of the
mole, and of what sort the engines of war were
which Alexander had used. Gossip of the doings
of kings dropped from him as the influences of the
high moor took possession of him, and he had
fallen into silence.
We had skirted the new town of Caesarea Phil
ippi which Philip had built, passing the grotto
where the Greeks worshipped their god Pan. We
had seen on a hill spur the white marble temple
which Herod the Great had set up for the worship
of Augustus. And then we had climbed to the
cedar forest.
There was absolute stillness here. The cedars
spread their boughs in layer on layer of green above
us, the ground was thick with orange-brown nee
dles, and the hot sun brought out the keen smell
of resin. Looking down through the scaled trunks
of the trees, we could see the marsh lands and
floods where the waters of Herman fell into the
valley. We had a great talk there. Judas Iscariot be
gan it. Jesus, in his teaching of the kingdom, had
told the people near Tyre of how they must strive
after good and never despair, and in his last talk
he had spoken of the patience of God and of how
he helped men by ordering their lives so that they
had to learn their lesson or perish. Then, to cheer

100 By an Unknown Disciple
them, he had told a parable of a barren fig tree,
of how God, who is our father and the gardener
of the soul, had seen that the fig tree brought forth
no fruit, and of how he had dug round it, and
dunged it, and pruned it, and at last seeing it still
brought forth no fruit, he had ordered as its last
chance that it should be cut down.
Peter and the fishermen who knew nothing of
gardening, had questioned the meaning of Jesus.
Judas too who had lived mostly in Jerusalem, was
ignorant of the nature of trees. But the people
understood, and an old husbandman in the crowd,
whose alert eyes were all wrinkled round with
much working in the sun, had cried aloud in scorn
of the ignorance of men who knew not the ways
of fig trees.
"The Rabbi is right. It is the only way. It
would grow again. Every gardener knows that
the fig fruits only on new wood."
This had stuck in the mind of Judas, and now,
lying under the cedars, he said to Jesus, and there
was a shade of blame in his voice,
"Why do you always teach the people in par
ables?" And Jesus, smiling, replied:
"Shall I answer by telling you another par
able?" So he told us :

By an Unknown Disciple 101
"There was a certain man who had to travel to
a far country. Before he went he called his serv
ants together, and put them in charge of his prop
erty. He judged the capacity of each man, and
gave him what he thought he could manage. To
one he gave control over goods to the value of five
talents, to another to the value of two, and to a
third one; and straightway he went on his journey.
He was away for a long time, and when he came
back he asked his servants to give in their reckon
ing. And the first came and showed him ten tal
ents, saying,
" 'Lord, behold you gave me five talents, and
I have made them into ten.'
"And his lord said,
" 'Well done. You have been faithful over a
few things. I will make you ruler over many.'
"Then he that had received two talents came
with shame, and showed that his hands were empty
in that he had devoured his talents with harlots
and flute-women, and him the lord blamed. But
the third, who had received the one talent, came
and showed it him untouched as he had received it,
and he said,
" 'Lord, I knew that you were a hard man who
would reap what you had not sown, and gather
where you had not threshed, and I was afraid lest
I should make a bad use of the talent or lose it.

102 By an Unknown Disciple
So I hid it in the ground, and, lo, there you have
what is yours.'
"And his lord was very angry, and said,
" 'You wicked and lazy servant ! You knew
I reap where I have not sown, and gather what I
have not threshed. How dare you waste the tal
ent? At least you might have lent it to a banker,;
when it would have made some growth.' And he
commanded him to be cast out."
Jesus stopped. Judas, who had listened with a
half-frown on his face, said nothing, and Jesus,
watching him, smiled and said,
"Well, Judas, have I justified myself?"
Judas, as if half-reluctantly, smiled too.
"What is your meaning?" he asked.
"That men must learn to use their powers. To
those who try to have understanding more will be
given, while from those who do not try, even what
understanding they have will be taken away."
This did not please Peter. He grumbled as if
he felt cheated, saying men could not help their
minds, and that all were not bom clever. But
Jesus answered him,
"It is God's will to give you the kingdom, but
if you have not kept the little, who will give you
the great? It is the spirit that teaches. Begin
therefore with little things, and seek from small
to wax great."

By an Unknown Disciple 103
Judas said,
"Men will never use their minds. They prefer
repose." And Jesus cried out,
"Do you think I am here to give repose to the
world? I tell you no, but to cause division. I am
here, not to cast peace but a sword on the earth.
I came to kindle men's souls and to set the world
on fire."
His face was radiant and his eyes shining.
"I tell you that now the kingdom is being
preached, men everywhere are forcing their way
into it. It is God's will that men should have life
and have it in greater fullness. Think you this
will not cause division? If a man seek the king
dom, his enemies shall be those of his own house
hold, and even his old familiar friends, in whom
he trusted, will turn against him. But I am here
to teach men to be lawgivers to themselves, and
he who is daunted by any man is not worthy of
me." His passion woke passion in every man of us.
It was as if a fire lit up in our souls and ran
through our veins. Judas's eyes burned in his
head, and Peter cried out,
"Master, tell us of the great deeds you said we
should do."
Jesus looked at him and then at Judas, and a

104 By an Unknown Disciple
cloud came over the brightness of his face. The
passion died out of his eyes, and there was a ques
tion in them as though he feared misunderstanding.
He seemed to withdraw into himself seeking
strength greater than his own, and when at last he
spoke, it was slowly as a man seeks for words to
express a thing too great for words.
"All over the world, Princes oppress their sub
jects, and the very men whom they enslave call
them Benefactors. The great exercise dominion
over those who are weak, and everywhere men seek
after power. But amongst you it shall not be so.
For in the kingdom of Heaven, who ever wishes
to be great must serve, and he who strives to hold
high place must be a servant."
"Then there is to be no kingdom," Peter called
out in dismay.
Jesus turned to him.
"Do not judge by appearances, Peter. Judge
justly. The glory of the princes of this world is
mean and poor before the glory God shows to those
who love him. Look at the works of men and
your heart will dwindle. Did any man ever yet
look at the works of God and feel a less man be
cause of them ? It is because men seek the honours
that come from men that they do not see the glory
that comes from God. For God's glory is love
and truth, and he gives us gift after gift of love.

By an Unknown Disciple 105
Yet God, who is the giver of all, is the servant of
all." Peter was silent. Judas Iscariot sat with his
head bowed down.
But Nathaniel said,
"Master, teach us to see."
And Jesus answered,
"Is not the light of the body the eye? When
your eye is unclouded the whole world is lit up.
But when your eye is diseased the whole world is
dark. So it is with the spirit. If men dull their
souls by debauches, or drunkenness, or by the anx
ieties of life, the inner light which is in them is
darkened. In truth I tell you that, unless men
become like little children, they cannot enter the
kingdom of God. He that hath marvelled shall
reign. If a man does not look at life with his
heart full of love and wonder like a child, he will
never see God. For God reveals things to the
child-like which he hides from the clever and
learned." "Can any man prefer darkness to light?" John
asked. "A man who lives an evil life hates the light,
and will not come into it for fear that in it he
should see himself," said Jesus. "No man who
lives up to his light fears to face the truth. If men
do not trouble to hear, they become dull of hear-

106 By an Unknown Disciple
ing; if they do not care to live in the light, they
become blind. So it is with the spirit. I speak
what I know. Heaven and earth will pass away,
Jbut these laws will never pass."
When Jesus had said this he was silent. The
great boughs of the cedars swayed slowly in a sud
den wind, and far in the forest a bough cracked
and dropped heavily to the ground. For a time
the disciples were silent too, listening to the sounds
of the forest, and then they fell to talk amongst
themselves. They spoke of the crowds who fol
lowed Jesus and of the ways men worked to get
their livings. Then they spoke of the things they
had heard the people of Tyre and Sidon say, and
of what men were saying of Jesus.
"One man said he was John the Baptizer, new-
risen from the dead," said a disciple, while another
said, "I heard a woman say he was Elijah."
"No, it was Jeremiah," said a th'rd.
"They all said he was one of the old Prophets
who had risen again to help us," said another.
Suddenly Jesus turned to them and said,
"And who do you yourselves say I am?"
The disciples, taken aback, looked at one
another, but did not answer. Peter kept quiet for
a moment pondering, and then his mind seemed

By an Unknown Disciple 107
to make a jump, and he cried out, his eyes bright
with love and enthusiasm,
"I say you are the Messiah."
Jesus looked at him, and there was a great af
fection in his eyes, but his voice was sad when
he spoke.
"Do you know what it means to be a Messiah,
Peter?" he asked.
Peter shook his head. Jesus went on, speaking
as a man speaks of things long thought over.
"If a man would be a Deliverer he must be
ready to undergo much pain and to suffer. He
will be rejected by his own generation. The coun
cillors and the priests and the teachers will not
listen to him. He will be spat on and despised;
he will have contempt and scom for his portion,
and, at the last, it may be he will lose his life."
He ceased, and no one spoke. Peter looked un
comfortable, but after a moment he rallied him
self, and began to rebuke Jesus.
"Please God, Master, that will never be your
fate," he said.
Jesus turned to him, and there was pain in his
voice. "You are hindering me, Peter. You do not look
on things as God does, but as man does. I have
a work to do, however great be my distress before
it is finished. If a man puts his hand to the plough

108 By an Unknown Disciple
and looks back, he is not fit for the Kingdom of
God. Do not tempt me to fear those who have
power to kill the body. They can never kill the
soul." Again he was silent, and when he spoke, it was
with balance and judgment, as a man speaks of
something of which he has counted the cost.
"Through anguish and suffering men enter the
kingdom. He who wishes to be my follower must
take up his cross and deny himself. If a man is
not ready to lose his life for the kingdom he will
lose himself. Where is the profit if in gaining
the world a man loses his soul? Can he earn
aught of value equal to himself? I tell you that
he who is ready to lose his life for my sake has
found himself, and if a man endure to the end he
shall find life too. For it is by endurance that
men win life."
It was after this teaching that Jesus sent the
disciples through Galilee to spread the good news,
but he himself went round the lake by way of the
Greek cities to Capernaum, where he was to spend
the summer.

X

THE house in which Jesus lived at Capernaum
was near the northern entrance to the town
where the road from Damascus first touches the
lake. It was a small house by the roadside. Be
hind it the ground sloped down to the beach where
boats could be drawn up for repair. There was a
space of beaten-down earth all round the house,
with here and there a cardoon or an aloe, and in
one comer of this rough courtyard a clump of
tall palms nodded their plumes together.
Capernaum was a large town, and there was
plenty of work for a carpenter. The boats that
daily went out in fleets to fish on the blue waters
of the lake were in constant need of repair, so
were the fittings of the caravans that passed to
and fro on the road, and the tools of the husband
men who cultivated the garden-like land round
the lake. Jesus and his brothers were always busy.
James was older than Jesus and very like him in
the face, but of a fieavier, harder make. The other
brothers, Simon and Judas and Joseph, were not
always at home, but came and went as the work
109

110 By an Unknown Disciple
called. The sisters of Jesus were married, and I
seldom saw them. They were a kind family and
fond of each other, for, though there had been
much talk of how they had checked Jesus when
his message first came to him, by this time they
had accepted his teaching and helped him where
they could. I never asked Jesus why he and his
family had left Nazareth, but I think it was be
cause they had found it hard to earn their bread
there. Nazareth was a small, poor village, and
out of the beaten track. Jesus was urgent to make
his living, but he was more urgent to deliver his
message, and Capernaum was better fitted for both
purposes than Nazareth. He could teach as he
worked, and when he had earned enough to buy
leisure for a few days, he could leave the business
in the care of James, and go off to teach in another
part of the country. The house was kept by Mary,
who was often to be seen in her blue garments,
either cleaning inside it, or going to the well to
draw water.
The beaten earth of the courtyard was swept
clean every morning by either Jesus or James,
and here, sitting by the roadside under the palms,
Jesus made ploughs and yokes for oxen, or mended
the pack-saddles and other matters belonging to
the caravans that passed on the road. Here, in
the evening after sunset, the people brought to him

By an Unknown Disciple 111
those who were ill, until sometimes the whole city
seemed to be gathered round his door.
Here lingered the strange caravan leaders from
distant countries to listen to his talk and tell him
of the doings in their own lands. Here, too, came
the Pharisees and teachers of the law, sometimes
out of interest to hear what the new teacher had
to say, but more often to spy round and pick holes
in the teaching. And here, too, came I to sit with
Jesus in the dust and talk.
I could not come as often as I wished, for all
that summer I was hard at work. I was master
of flocks and of herds, of cornlands and vineyards,
but when I asked Jesus what way I was to deal
with them he shook his head and would not tell
me. "What would you do?" I urged.
"How could I teach if I had the cares of
riches?" he asked. "You must do it for yourself.
How would you learn if I told you?"
"Must I give all to the poor?" I questioned.
"Could the love of God dwell in you if you
steel your heart and look on while your brother is
in want?" he answered.
I felt Jesus himself would have given all away,
but I was of a different build, so I set to work
with Nicodemus, who was in some sort my guar
dian, and during all that summer I came back-

112 By an Unknown Disciple
wards and forwards to Capernaum to tell Jesus of
our plans. Nicodemus was too much a man of
God to stop me or hold back anything, but he was
wise as well as just, so we began by giving the
labourers a larger hire. We increased the shep
herd's share of the lambs and the vine-grower's
share of the grapes. The husbandmen got a great
er portion of the wheat, and we began to copy the
Romans and made plans for bringing water by
channels to the villages. We repaired the gates
and walls to guard against the robbers who would
in certainty come against the villages as the in
habitants grew wealthier. We made a store of
grain for the head-man to use for hospitality, and
in those villages which had none we planned to
build synagogues.
This was all hard work, and it was a rest to
come and sit with Jesus, and, where I could — but
that I was unskilful — help him in his work. James
scorned me for my unhandiness, but Jesus taught
me how to smooth the elbow of wood for the
ploughshare, and to fit the six pieces of the plough
together. He showed me how to make wooden
locks, and how to bore the holes in the ox-yokes,
and I marvelled when I saw the care with which
he worked when he fitted the yoke-pegs. I told
him so, and he said,
"The oxen are working to make our bread. If

By an Unknown Disciple 113
the yoke does not fit they will suffer, and their
owner will always be adjusting it. If you love
your neighbours, you want them to work without
irk. Therefore I take pains."
"Will your neighbour be pleased?" I asked.
"Each time he puts this yoke on his oxen and
sees how well it fits, his heart ought to glow within
him, and he be full of love. But if it is not so,
what then? God sends his rain on the just and
the unjust, and the man has paid for the yoke."
Another day he was mending a camel chest and
he told me,
"This chest will go to Damascus and the Indies
with a wise man with whom I have had much talk.
It may be that each time he looks at it he will
think of the carpenter at Capernaum who mended
it just to his liking. He is a brown-faced man,
with eyes like jewels, and has much wisdom. He
knows that if man is to have joy he must labour,
not only for bread for the body which perishes,
but for living bread for the soul which God our
Father gives us when we love one another."
These were times when by chance we were alone,
but we were not often left to ourselves. The peo
ple all round flocked to hear the teaching, and
the courtyard was seldom empty. There was a
passion of pity in Jesus, and he loved people as I
have never known another love. They came to

114 By an Unknown Disciple
him with all their pains, and he healed both body
and soul. No matter how tired he was, he gath
ered his strength together to help, and when the
power came on him, no evil could stand before
him. I got to know that small house as well as
my own, and the very sight of it made a well of
joy and romance spring up in my heart. Each time
I returned I found the same peace, Mary tending
the house and Jesus working at his trade, and al
ways there was that sense of complete understand
ing of others that is like a beautiful colour in the
sky or cold well-water in a parching land.
"" It was in that rude courtyard, on the clean-
swept beaten earth under the palm trees where
the ox-yokes were stacked, that I first heard Jesus
speak of God in man. I remember that it was on
a day when the peace of the courtyard had been
broken by the Pharisees. It was summer and dry
weather. The sun had shone all day long, and the
sky was as blue as the lake. When the day's work
was done Jesus had swept the chips and shavings
from the courtyard with the broom of twigs, and
Mary, the mother, had brought us out round ban
nocks of meal which she had just made, and bowls
of sour milk. Then, when the sun was low and
the palms showed like moulded metal against the
pale, still sky, the people had gathered one by one
into the courtyard.

By an Unknown Disciple 115
They were chiefly people of the town, fishermen
from the lake, who had left their nets in the boats
drawn up on the beach, and men from the tan
neries and dyeworks who had brought their wives.
There were some merchants of the better sort, and
the courtyard was nearly full, when a party of
Pharisees arrived. These were men of substance,
cheesemongers and oilmen and corn-chandlers,
with one or two landowners, to whom the others
paid much deference. They were all men of posi
tion and respectable, who bore rule over their
households and kept their own laws, thinking their
class the one perfect class. As I watched them
push forward to the best places, with a hard dis
regard of other people's feelings, I noted that their
faces all bore the same smug stamp. Though a
man's mouth be hidden in his beard, the lines of
his face cannot lie and his eyes betray his soul.
There is no depth in the eye of a Pharisee, and his
face cries his character aloud. Amongst these men
I saw here the round dense eyes of one secure in
his self-righteousness, and there the flat inward-
turning eye of the more uneasy lover of self, afraid
that due honour will not be ceded him, and per
sistently crying out for flattery. They looked
from side to side, and made comments on all they
saw, as if all other men were deaf, and this a
show provided to entertain them and to pass an

116 By an Unknown Disciple
idle hour. And the people gave way before their
unconscious insolence as they elbowed their path
to where Jesus sat under the palm trees. Some
women of the town were standing near by with
Mary Magdalene, and when the Pharisees caught
sight of these there was a stir amongst them and
much nodding of heads, and sly calling the atten
tion of one and the other to their presence. One
said to another in a whisper that all could hear,
"This man welcomes all outcasts. He even
takes meals with tax-gatherers."
They did not greet Jesus, but when they had"
settled themselves with fuss on the only seat, a
rough board laid on logs, one of them, a fat man,
said with condescension,
"Well, Teacher, we have heard a great deal of
your doctrine, and we have come to see you work
a miracle." Jesus turned to the Pharisees. There was no
resentment in his attitude, but there was an
amused look in his eyes, and the people, seeing
this, pressed closer to hear what he was going to
say. "Cannot you yourself decide what is right with
out a miracle? When you see a cloud rising in
the west, straightway you say 'There is a shower
coming,' and so it is. When the south wind blows
you say 'There will be heat,' and so it cometh to

By an Unknown Disciple 117
pass. You know how to judge of earth and sky.
Cannot you judge in this also?"
"But we want to see a sign from you, Teacher,"
said the fat man. He looked out of the comers
of his eyes at his neighbour as if with some secret
meaning, and folded his thick hands on his stom
ach. Jesus in one quick look seemed to measure and
sum up the worth of the men before him. Then
he said,
"No sign will be given you," and there was no
appeal from the decision in his voice.
The Pharisees were taken aback. They leaned
together rather foolishly, and whispered as if they
asked one another what next to say. Then one
of them, a tall, lean man, with an uneasy eye,
said aloud,
"He cannot do it. He casts out devils by the
power of Satan, and if Satan be not here he is
powerless." The people murmured when they heard this,
but Jesus laughed and said,
"How can a devil cast out devils? Will Satan
revolt against himself? If he does, how can his
kingdom stand ? Is not a tree known by its fruits ?
A good tree produces good fruit and a bad tree
bad fruit. Surely you must know that either tree

118 By an Unknown Disciple
and fruit are bad or that both tree and fruit are
good." The Pharisees had no answer ready, and before
they could find one Jesus went on,
"What fills a man's heart will rise to his lips.
Let me tell you a story. There were two men who
went up to the temple to pray, one was a Pharisee
and the other a tax-gatherer. The Pharisee stood
where all men could see him and prayed aloud,
'Oh, God, I thank you that I am not as other men
are, thieves, rogues, and adulterers, or even like
this tax-gatherer. / fast twice a week, and give a
tenth of all that I receive to God."
One of the fishermen gave a great laugh, but
stifled it at once, and Jesus went on,
"The tax-gatherer stood where men could not
see him, and he smote his breast and prayed, 'God
be merciful to me, a sinner.' I tell you this man
went home pardoned rather than the other. For
he who exalts himself shall be humbled, and he
who is humble shall be exalted."
The uneasy-eyed Pharisee, as if he feared a hurt
to his dignity, asked sharply,
"Are you telling this with reference to us?"
And Jesus answered,
"I am not here to call the righteous to repent,
but sinners. Those who are well do not need
any physician."

By an Unknown Disciple 119
"We have always kept the law of Moses," an
swered the Pharisee.
"You can justify yourselves before men, but
take care. God knows your hearts, and what is
greatly admired by men may be abomination in
the sight of God."
"Moses gave us the law," said another Pharisee.
And Jesus said,
"Why do not you yourselves think out what is
right and do it? But you clean the outside of
the cup and then fill it inside with greed and self-
indulgence. You are careful to strain out a gnat
and then you swallow a camel. You pay the tithes
on mint, fennel, and caraway-seed, and neglect
justice and mercy and the love of God."
He did not speak in anger, but as if these things
were manifest to all men, and the Pharisees were
disturbed as they listened, and one said so that
we all heard,
"Is not this man Jesus, the carpenter? Are not
his brothers Joseph and James and Simon, and
his mother Mary? How comes he to talk like this
to us?"
"Every one who does the will of God is my
brother and sister," said Jesus. "But you Phari
sees have neither brothers nor sisters. If you do
not love your brother whom you have seen, how
can you love God whom you have never seen?"

120 By an Unknown Disciple
The Pharisees were angry at this, but Jesus said,
"Listen. There was a certain rich man who had
a steward, and a report was brought to him that
the steward was wasting his goods. So the master
called him and said, 'How is it that I leam this
about you? You cannot be any longer steward,
therefore give in the account of your stewardship.'
"Then the steward said within himself,
" 'What shall I do? My lord taketh away
from me the stewardship; I have no strength to
dig; to beg I am ashamed. I know ! This will
I do, so that when I am turned out people will
welcome me to their houses.'
"So he called up his lord's debtors, and one by
one he spoke to them. To the first he said,
" 'How much do you owe my lord?' And the
debtor answered, 'Nine hundred* and seventy-five
gallons of oil.'
" 'Here is your bill. Sit down quickly and
write five hundred and five gallons.' 'And you,'
he said to the next debtor, 'how much do you owe?'
" 'Seventy quarters of wheat,' said the man.
" 'Here is your account. Change it to fifty-six,'
said the steward.
"The master, when he heard, complimented this
dishonest steward on his shrewdness."
"But the man was a scoundrel," interrupted the
Pharisees in indignation.

By an Unknown Disciple 121
"That may be," answered Jesus, with tran
quillity. "But such men are often wiser than you
children of light. For they make friends for
themselves, even with their sins, while you make
no friends at all. I tell you it is better to make
friends even by the use of dishonest money, than
it is to go through life friendless."
"You are preaching rank immorality," cried
the Pharisees.
There was a change in the face of Jesus. The
tranquillity left his eyes, and he spoke sternly,
"You blind guides," he said, "not only do you
fall into the ditch yourself, but you lead others
to fall also. I tell you that harlots and publicans
will go before you into the kingdom of God be
cause they care. J'hey have loved their fellows,
but you love no one. For no man loves less than
he who needs no repentance."
"You were born a nobody, and do you teach
us!" cried the Pharisees, and one said in scorn,
"The man is insane. Come, let us leave him."
"He is worse than mad. He is wicked," cried
another, and they all rose and, shaking their gar
ments, began to push their way out of the court
yard, jostling the people angrily, though they had
done naught to them. They took a long time to
file out, and the people kept silence till they had
gone. When the last Pharisee had withdrawn,

122 By an Unknown Disciple
and the air seemed cleared of oppression and men
breathed freely again, Jesus said, and as he spoke
peace and good-will settled again on the courtyard,,
"The Pharisees have hidden the key of the
knowledge of the kingdom. They will not go in
themselves, or suffer others to enter. Beware of
their leaven. Theirs is not true bread. Neverthe
less, if they teach you of the law of God, lay
what they say to heart, but do not do anything
that they do, for they teach what they do not
practise." A woman cried out, and there was scorn in her
voice, "Do not heed them, master. Tell us your own
teaching of the kingdom."
And Jesus answered,
"My teaching is not mine, but His who sent me.
If you do God's will, you will leam whether the
doctrine comes from God or whether I made it of
myself." "When shall we see the kingdom come to pass?"
asked one in the crowd.
"The Kingdom of God will never be found by
looking for it," Jesus answered.
"You will never be able to say, 'Lo, here,1 or
'Lo, there is the kingdom !' The Kingdom of God
is within* you. Whoever shall know himself shall
find it."

By an Unknown Disciple 123
The people were silent, pondering over this
teaching, and, after a moment, Jesus said,
"It is in the hearts of men that God has his
dwelling. Let him wh/> seeks the kingdom cease
' not till he find it. Strive to know yourselves, and
you shall be aware that you are the sons of the
father. No man has seen God, yet if we love one
another we live in God and God in us. This is the
true bread, the bread that God gives, that gives
life to the world."
"Master, give us this bread," cried out the peo
ple. "The bread of life is this knowledge of God.
Just as God the father has life within himself,
so has he granted this bread to his children that
•they may have the same life. It is by love that
men pass out of death into life. He who does
not love has never been alive."
A workman who was dyed from head to foot
in the dyes in which he had worked all day, said,
"Teach us to know God."
Jesus paused, and in the silence nothing was
heard but the lap-lapping of the lake water on
the shore.
Then he answered,
"Men take seven years to learn n trade, but
they think to know God in a day. Think you that
the knowledge of God can be gained with more

124 By an Unknown Disciple
ease than you learned your craft? If you would
believe in God, you must be able to feel God.
You must watch God work just as you watch,
slowly and with care, to gain the knowledge of
your craft. The birds of the air, and all the beasts
that are upon the earth, and the fishes of the sea,
will teach you to know God. I can do nothing of
myself. I can only do what I see God doing, and
I learn only by watching God work."
The man was silent, abashed, and Jesus said
gently, "God loves his children, and shows them all that
he is doing. Is it not written, 'All thy children
shall be taught of God, and great shall be the
peace of thy children'? Therefore do not love
with words only but with deeds and loyalty. I
tell you that he who does not love will never know
God, but he who lives in (love lives in God and
God in him, for God is love."
By this time it was night, and when Jesus had
said this he spoke no more, and the people, all
pondering deeply, went away to their homes. But
Jesus himself went up to the mountains, and spent
the night alone in prayer.

XI

IT was full summer before the disciples re
turned to Capernaum. Judas Iscariot was the
last to come in. As I went down the Way of the
Sea I met him at the fork of the road stalking
along from Rameh. His flesh had fallen away
from his bones, and his face was gaunt and grim.
Some purpose seemed to fill his mind and drive
him forward, for his features worked as he walked,
and he talked to himself. When I greeted him he
stopped and looked at me half-bewildered as if
he had never seen my face before, and then sud
denly he seemed to fit me into a place in his
memory, for he called out eagerly,
"Is Jesus at Capernaum?" And when I said
that he was, he forged forward again as if his
purpose so filled his mind that there was room for
nothing else. His eyes were bent on some point
far ahead of him, and, like a dog on a trail, he
made straight for that. He walked so fast that
it was hard to keep up with him. Once he turned
to me, and said,
"What is he doing?" And when I answered
125

126 By an Unknown Disciple
"He is working at his trade," his eyes darkened
and he muttered,
"He works at his trade when Israel is perishing."
He did not speak again, but went forward faster
than before.
When we reached Capernaum Judas turned
aside for no one. Though several men spoke to
him he paid no heed to their greetings, but made
straight for the house of Jesus. And behold, when
we reached it, the courtyard was empty and the
space under the palms where the ox-yokes were
stacked was vacant. The door of the house was
shut and there was no one about. But Judas,
after a glance or two around like a dog seeking
scent, made for the beach, and here we found
Jesus with three or four other men. The men,
bent on their daily tasks, were about to launch a
boat when Judas, travel-worn and thin, his beard
and every line of his weary face heavy with dust,
burst into their peace. They stopped their work
and stared at him as if something in his aspect
struck fear into them.
But Jesus seeing him, spoke,
"You have just returned? You look very
tired." "I have somewhat to say to you," Judas an
swered. "When did you last eat?" Jesus asked him, but

By an Unknown Disciple 127
Judas brushed the question aside, his mind so set
on his purpose that he was regardless of his bod
ily weariness.
"I do not remember. This morning. What mat
ter!" he said. "Where can we talk?"
"I was going to the other side of the lake. Come
apart with me and rest awhile," said Jesus, and
he put his shoulder to the gunnel of the boat, and
I helping, we pushed her off. As she took the
water I jumped in to steady her, and Judas fol
lowed. The other men would have clambered in,
too, but Jesus put them aside, saying Judas would
speak with him alone, and so they gave it up, and
when Jesus had got in, helped to push us off with
oars. Whether it was that they thought I was
joined with Judas on his business, or whether they
were used to seeing me with Jesus I know not, but
they made no remark on my presence, and, in
deed, the boat so quickly slid into deep water
that I could not have got out of it if I would
without leaving her guideless. So it came about
that I heard what Judas had to say.
The wind was fresh, and Jesus and I set the
sail. Judas did not help, but sat in the stern silent
and absorbed while the boat raced across the blue
lake to the other side. Here we landed, and tied
the painter to a great stone. Jesus brought bread
and dates from the boat, and we climbed to the

128 By an Unknown Disciple
wide grassy plain above, but Judas would not eat.
"Later," he said, and, for a time, he lay face
downwards on the bleached grass as if he thought
,oi what he had to speak. Then suddenly he sat
upright, and turned his haggard face to Jesus.
"Master," he said, "I have preached the king
dom as you told me. Throughout all Galilee I
have found the same misery and slavery. Every
where the hold of the Romans is tightening. Our
statesmen do not care. They will never win us
back our freedom. In a short time it will be too
late." His voice broke, and he covered his eyes with
his hands. At the sight of his woe a lump came
into my throat, and I turned away my head, but
the tranquillity that lay in the eyes of Jesus did
not waver. He sat patient, helping Judas with
silence till he should recover himself.
In a moment Judas had mastered himself. He
uncovered his eyes, and looked Jesus straight in
the face.
"When I asked you before, you turned a deaf
ear to me. But now I have seen the misery of the
people, their oppression and starvation. Will you
not listen? You alone can free them. You have
but to lift your hand, and thousands will flock to
you. Never has there been such a ferment. The
people will follow you anywhere, even to death."

By an Unknown Disciple 129
His voice was hoarse with passion, and he
pleaded as a man pleads for what he desires most
upon earth.
"I cannot do it myself," he said. "The people
will not follow me. I lack something. I have not
the power to win men's hearts as you have, Master.
And you care for them. You have seen their mis
ery. Will you not help? Restore to us our na
tion." A great compassion shone in the eyes of Jesus,
and there was reverence in his voice as he answered,
"Judas, it is not the way. Listen. Once before
this temptation came upon me. When the mes
sage first came to me, when I looked round on the
world and saw men as they are, and God told me
to tell them what they might be, then I was driven
into the wilderness, and there I fought with devils.
God gives the message. It is for the Messenger
to leam how to deliver it. Your question was be
fore me, Judas, and to find an answer I wrestled
with the powers of evil. All the kingdoms of this
world and their splendour seemed to pass before
me, and a voice within me said, 'These will all ac
knowledge your kingdom, and the rule of the God
who sent you. But you must first unite the people
and drive out those who stop them from living as
God would have them live. . Then will God have
the kingdom, the power, and the glory.' In my

130 By an Unknown Disciple
soul I pondered, and then I saw the meaning of the
devil that spoke within me, and I said, 'Oh, Satan,
if I by your evil help drive out evil, then will you,
not God, be Ruler. I will not fall down and wor
ship you. For if I by force drive out force, will
not the strong reign ? And if I by cruelty drive out
cruelty, will not the cruel be master?' I tell you,
No, Judas, I will never hand this world over to the
Master of cruelty and force. It is not the way."
He ceased speaking. Judas did not answer. He
sat silent, shaken, but not convinced; his body
crouched together, and in his stress he gnawed his
knuckles. Suddenly he looked up from beneath
his pent brows, and said, /
"Under our present rule the people starve. It
Is in your power to give them liberty. If you will
not have them fight for that high ideal, will you
lead, that they may have bread?"
Jesus put the taunt aside, and answered gently,
"That temptation, too, has been before me. God
has given me power, but if I use my power to give
bread only I should be a traitor. Man does not
live by bread alone, but by the breath of God with
in him. If God gather to himself his spirit and his
breath, all flesh would perish and man turn into
dust. No, Judas; neither is that the way. Men
must seek first the kingdom of God and his right-

By an Unknown Disciple 131
eousness, and all these things will be added to
them." Judas was not vanquished. His head drooped
on his chest, and with one hand he plucked rest
lessly at the tufts of grass beside him and, unsee
ing, flung them from him. After a moment he
sighed and glanced at Jesus, and there was craft
in his eye.
"God guards his servants," he said. "It is nat
ural to shrink from sacrifice that seems too great
to bear. But God would preserve his Messenger.
Your power is great. You could escape."
Jesus met his look, and in his own there was
so much of sadness and of pity that the cunning
glint died out of the eyes of Judas.
"Judas," he said. "What I have taught shall I
not stand by? God will not alter his laws to save
even the most beloved servant. What a man sows
that shall he also reap. If I, using my powers care
lessly, trust to God to make a success of my failure,
I am again in the power of the Devil. Thou shalt
not tempt the Lord thy God."
There was silence. Judas frowned as if his
mind was working hard, and suddenly, as if he
abandoned his purpose, he rose to his feet.
"Master," he said, "if you will not lead in Gali
lee, will you go to Jerusalem?"
Jesus replied,

132 By an Unknown Disciple
"But, Judas, I have been to Jerusalem. Was it
not in Jerusalem that I first met you?"
"You have never preached the kingdom in Jeru
salem," said Judas, and the lines of his face
twitched and then hardened as if he sought to hide
his thought. Jesus, still seated on the grass,
searched his face, and Judas, bracing himself, met
his eyes. A long look passed between the two,
and then Jesus, too, rose to his feet and said,
"I will go to Jerusalem."
Judas stared at him.
"You will go to Jerusalem?" he asked, as if
amazed at his own success.
"I will go to Jerusalem," Jesus repeated, and
half to himself he added, "It is not meet that a
Prophet should die out of Jerusalem."
Judas caught the words and answered hastily,
"You will not die. You will go to a triumph" ;
and, suddenly, as if seized with suspicion, he cried,
"You mean it? You have promised? You
will not fail me?"
Jesus stooped and gathered up the bread and
dates which Judas had rejected. Then he turned
and said,
"I will never fail you, Judas."
And with that the talk ended.

XII
THE people of my villages began their plough
ing and sowing about the time of the Feast
of Tabernacles, and there was other business too
that called me to the high lands of Galilee, so that
I could not go to Jerusalem that autumn. I lin
gered as late as I could in Capernaum to be with
Jesus, and the last teaching I ever heard from his
lips, though then I knew it not, was his talk with
Peter of the seven times forgiveness.
Now Peter and the others had all come back
from their preaching tour, with their heads swollen
with success. Their talk was still of the crowds
that had flocked to hear them, and of how men
never ceased to debate of the new teaching. Often,
too, I heard them dispute as to who should be
greatest in the Kingdom. Jesus listened to their
talk, as he listened to every one, with courtesy and
intently, his lips lightly closed and his understand
ing eyes fixed on the speaker's face as if he read
his soul. I noticed that sometimes as he listened
a shadow seemed to hang over him as if he doubted
himself and even his message. Once or twice I
133

134 By an Unknown Disciple
noticed, too, that Peter would begin his boasts,
and then suddenly, though Jesus spoke no word
to him, he would cease. Silence would fall upon
him, and he would look uneasily at Jesus as if he
questioned his own motives and wanted reassur
ing. There were two men in Peter, as in every one
of us, and the fight for self-mastery had begun in
his soul. Peter was learning to know himself, and
from each combat his spirit, even if beaten, rose
again to renew the battle.
It was on a day when I had seen this new un
easiness in Peter that in the evening Jesus went
away up into the mountains, and took with him
Peter and James and John. They did not return
until the next day, and in the meantime much had
happened. For early in the morning there came a
man seeking Jesus, and bringing with him his son,
who, he said, was possessed by a devil. However
that might be, the boy was very ill. Even as his
father asked for Jesus, he broke away and ran from
him, grinding his teeth. The father, in despair,
calling to us for help ran after him, but when at
the outskirts of the town he caught him, the boy
dashed himself to the ground and wallowed there,
foaming at the mouth. His father held him down,
lamenting aloud that Jesus was not there to cure
him. People were hastening from all sides to see
what had happened, and some of the disciples came

By an Unknown Disciple 135
running too with the rest of the crowd. Seeing
these, a woman cried out that they would help.
"They can cast out devils even as Jesus does.
Ask them. They will heal your son," she said to
the man.
But the man, hearing her, was angry, and said
bitterly, "I asked them before, and they tried, but could
do nothing. What use are they? They are only
cheats, like all magicians."
The disciples were affronted when they heard
him say this, and said they were not to blame.
They had done their best.
"We did what we could," one cried. "But even
Peter, who shaped well to be a caster-out of devils,
failed with your son."
Others said that the boy had seventy devils in
him, and that it was not to be expected they could
all be cast out. At this there arose a great dispute,
and some teachers of the law began to argue with
the man and with the disciples as to whose was
the fault, and how many devils could inhabit a
man. They all talked at once, and the noise was
deafening. The poor father, kneeling beside his
son, had much ado to keep the crowd from press
ing on him, and kept calling aloud for more room.
Of a sudden some one cried out that Jesus had
come, and the crowd broke up and ran to see. In

136 By an Unknown Disciple
the space they left I saw Jesus coming towards us,
followed by Peter and James and John.
At the sight of him a lull fell on the crowd.
For the shadow had fallen from him, and a great
peace shone in his eyes. Hope was renewed within
him, and again, as on the day when I first saw him,
tranquillity lay upon him, the tranquillity of one
who rests in a surety greater than other men know.
"What are you all arguing about amongst your
selves?" Jesus asked as the man came up to him
and greeted him.
"Teacher," answered the man. "I brought my
son to see you, as he has a devil, and is pining
away. I asked your disciples to drive out the
spirit, but they failed."
Jesus turned to the disciples:
"Oh ! faithless generation," he said. "How long
must I teach you ? How long must I have patience
with you ? Bring the boy to me."
A dozen people ran to lift the boy, but when
they touched him he fell into convulsions, and
again rolled on the ground foaming at the mouth.
"How long has he been like this?" Jesus asked
the father.
"Since he was a child," the man answered.
"And often he falls into the fire or into water,
and tries to kill himself. If you can possibly heal
him, have pity and help us."

By an Unknown Disciple 137
"Why do you say possibly? Everything is pos
sible to one who has faith," Jesus replied, and he
spoke with so much kindness and certainty that
the man cried out with tears, "Lord, I have faith.
Help thou my lack of it!"
So Jesus healed the lad, and when the devil,
if it was a devil, had gone away, the convulsions
ceased, and the boy lay on the ground like a
corpse, so that many people looking at him shook
their heads and said, "He is dead." But Jesus
took his hand, and raised him up and gave him
back to his father; and then he went away to his
house, and the disciples followed.
When we reached the house and went in, the
disciples pressed round Jesus and asked eagerly,
"Why could we not cast out the devil?"
"This power comes only by prayer and fasting,"
said Jesus. "Every sacrifice is salted by salt. You
are the salt of the earth, but if the salt has lost
its saltness, how can it be salted again? If it can
not, it is fit neither for the land nor for the dung
hill, but is thrown away and trodden underfoot.
It is only by fire that it can be salted again. Have
salt therefore in yourselves, and peace with one
another. Let him that has ears to hear with, hear."
J Now Peter was wroth because some one had
told him what had been said of his failure, and

138 By an Unknown Disciple
glowering, he answered the rebuke that he felt in
the words of Jesus.
"Say what you like about salt, but it was the
man who was at fault. He had no faith. One
cannot help such people. There was something
about him, I know not what, but I did not trust
him." He spoke out of the soreness of his heart, and
Jesus answered quickly, and there was much ten
derness and some mockery in his voice,
"Be careful, Peter, for in every idle word men
speak they give an account of themselves."
But Peter, still gloomy, averted his face like
a proud dog after punishment, and answered,
"My words are not idle. I do well to be angry."
"If you cherish anger against your brother you
cannot be friends with God," said Jesus. "Anger
is an evil demon. If your brother has acted
wrongly to you, you must go to him alone and tell
him his fault. If he listens you have gained your
brother. If you have acted wrongly to him you
must seek his forgiveness before you can be friends
with God. How can you expect God to forgive
you your sins against him if you do not forgive
your brother when he wrongs you?"
Peter, still obstinate, was silent, and Jesus said,
"Listen, Peter. The kingdom of heaven may
be compared to a certain king who began to have

By an Unknown Disciple 139
a settlement of accounts with his officials. And
one was brought before him who owed ten thou
sand pounds, which he was unable to pay. So the
king commanded that the man and his wife and
his children and everything that he had should
be sold, that the price might go towards the pay
ment of the debt.
"When he heard the sentence the man was hor
rified, and threw himself on the ground before
the king and wept, crying out, 'Only have patience
and I will pay you all.' And the king was moved
with sorrow at the pain of his servant, and he
set him free and forgave him the debt. But that
same man on going out from the court met a
fellow servant who owed him one hundred shill
ings, and he took him by the throat and nearly
strangled him, saying,
" 'Pay me what you owe me.'
"And his fellow-servant threw himself on the
ground before him, crying out:
" 'Only have patience and I will pay you all.'
"But he would not, but put him in prison till
he should pay.
"When the other servants saw what had hap
pened they were greatly distressed, and went to
the king and laid the whole matter before him.
Then the king called that wicked servant again
before him, and said to him,

140 By an Unknown Disciple
" 'I forgave you all your debt when you begged
for mercy. Ought you not to have had compass
sion on your fellow-servant when he, too, begged
for mercy? Even as I had pity on you ought you
not to have pitied him? Now you will be handed
over to the torturers till you have paid the whole
of your debt.'
"And he cast him into prison. So also God
who has pity on you will do, if you do not each
one of you forgive your own brother from your
heart." When Jesus had finished Peter sat silent for a
few moments. Suddenly he turned his face, and
said impulsively,
"How often am I to forgive my brother when
he sins against me? As many as seven times?"
"Seven times!" Jesus answered. "No! I did
not say seven times, but seventy times seven."
"But, master, if I forgive him he will take ad
vantage of me again."
Jesus nodded in agreement.
"He may."
"Must I then go on forgiving and forgiving,
and each time be made a fool of?" Peter ques
tioned, hotly; and Jesus answered, and there was
no mockery now in his voice, but only tenderness,
"If your enemy hunger, give him bread to eat.
If he thirst, give him water. If he would take

By an Unknown Disciple 141
1"^ ^ ™^^^^ ' n»^^^™«i I I
your cloak, give him your coat also. If you meet
his ox or his ass going astray, bring it back ta
him. If he conscript you to carry his goods one
mile, carry them for two. It is in this way that
you become children of your father in Heaven.
Does he not daily cause his sun to rise on the
good and the bad?"
Peter thought for a moment, and then he cried
out: "Master, give us faith."
And Jesus answered,
"Men are ready to move mountains by faith,
and yet are not willing to enter into the kingdom.
by forgiving one another. Forgiveness is faith.
Therefore, when you stand up to pray, forgive
any grievance you have against any one and God
will grant you what you ask."
"But God does not always answer?" one ques
tioned. "Then entreat him again and again. Pray al
ways, and never despair. Ask, and it shall be
given you. Ask great things, and little things
shall be added to you. Ask heavenly things, and
earthly things will be added. Seek, and you shall
find. Knock, and a door will be opened before you.
For God will give you the spirit of truth to guide
you to all truth. I tell you all manner of sin
shall be forgiven unto men, but a refusal to listen

142 By an Unknown Disciple
for this voice of God within you shall not be for
given." "Master, teach us to pray," said one of the
disciples. And Jesus answered,
"When you pray let the communion be be
tween God and yourself alone. Do not stand
where you can be seen of men, but go away into
your own room and shut the door and pray there
to your father who dwells in secret, and your
father who knows all that is secret will enlighten
you. When you pray say 'Father, may thy name
be kept holy. Let thy kingdom come. Teach us
to do thy will on earth as it is done in heaven.
Give us each day the bread that we shall need.
And forgive us our sins, helping us to forgive
those who sin against us. And take us not into
trials, but deliver us from evil.' "
It was with this talk in my head that I went
to my ploughing.

XIII
MY days went swifter than a post that win
ter, and I heard nothing of the doings in
Jerusalem nor did I see Jesus. In South Galilee
gossip ran along every road, but my villages in
the north were cut off from this traffic; and
though the talk in them still raged about the
teaching, no man knew what fate the doctrine had
met in Judea.
It was Nicodemus who first told me that Jesus
was in danger. By this time spring was nearly
here again, and I had sent to Judea to ask for
some monies that I needed. Now Nicodemus was
an old man, and when the mule train came in and
I saw him riding at its head, I was astonished that
he should have come himself when he might as
easily have sent a steward. But when he had
alighted from his mule and, after delivering to
me the monies, had washed and refreshed himself
and we were alone in the room, he said,
"I have grave news for you. I have come
straight from Jerusalem, where your friend Jesus
has been teaching all winter. His fame has
spread through all Judea. He has gone back to
143

144 By an Unknown Disciple
Capernaum now, and I have come to warn you
that if he returns to Jerusalem for the Passover
the Priests and Council will have his life."
"Why, what has he done?" I cried.
"The Council thinks he is dangerous," an
swered Nicodemus. "There is great division
amongst the people, and as his followers grow,
so do his opponents. There is no open discussion
in Jerusalem because of the authorities, but the
city is full of whispers, and rumours fly about
in secret. Some say he is a good man, while
others insist he is leading the people astray. Many
say that he is the Prophet spoken of by David, and
others are sure that he is the Messiah. Some
people argue that he cannot be the Messiah as he
comes from Galilee, and the Scriptures say the
Messiah must come from Bethlehem, David's vil
lage, and be of David's race. It is said that men
went and asked Jesus himself about this last,
and he answered that as David in the Psalms
called the Messiah Lord, how could it be that the
Messiah was David's son? But even with this
from Jesus, many people look to see in him the
fulfilment of prophecy, and the tumult grows.
The Rulers are afraid. They have no wish to
see the Kingdom of God established on earth. The
good news that Jesus preaches is not good to those
who bear rule."

By an Unknown Disciple 145
"It would be," I said, "if they would only
forgo their ordering of other men and be content
to serve."
Nicodemus looked at me out of his wise old
eyes. "The last thing men will forgo is that," he
said. "Jesus is too clear-sighted not to know the
risks that lie in such teaching. They will kill
him for that alone."
"They cannot kill him for his teaching of the
Kingdom," I said.
Nicodemus shook his head.
"They will find an excuse."
"They cannot," I cried.
"A way will be found. Do I not know? Am
I not also a Ruler of Israel? But let me tell you
all, and you can judge for yourself."
"Tell on," I answered, and sat silent to listen.
"The matter has not yet come before the Coun
cil as a whole, but I hear others of the Seventy
talk, and so I know. Some of the Rulers have
already tried to embroil Jesus with the Romans.
If they could prove an offence against the Im
perial law, then the Romans would deal with
him, and the blame of the people would fall upon
them. So they have sought to show that the teach
ing of Jesus is the same as that taught by Judas.
fii Gaulonite. You are too young to remember

146 By an Unknown Disciple
the rebellion led by this Judas, but Jesus must
have heard of it. It was when the Romans first
put a tax on us, in the days of the Procurator Co-
ponius. Our people took this taxation heinously
until the High Priest persuaded them to cease
opposing it. But this Judas never ceased his
opposition, proclaiming that the taxation was the
beginning of slavery, and that the Jews were cow
ards if they endured to pay a tax to the Romans,
seeing that God was our only Ruler. I mind me
well of the misfortunes that came of all this. One
violent rising after another, robberies and murders
and famine. But the Romans prevailed."
"I have heard my father speak of it when he
was alive," I said.
"All men spoke of it," said Nicodemus. "This
Judas inflamed our nation to an extraordinary de
gree. Even now his followers are not all dead.
But they keep quiet. If they raised a voice, the
Romans would not let them live a day. They
will as quickly slay Jesus, if they have proof that
his doctrine is that of the Gaulonite. Now I will
show you the full craft of the Priests and Rulers.
They sent men to Jesus to seek out such evidence.
These men spoke fair to him and pretended to be
in sympathy with his teaching. They said, 'We
know you teach God's way truly and that you
are no respecter of the masks of men, but see

By an Unknown Disciple 147
straight through all outward shows to the inner
man.' When they had thus hinted that Jesus had
the like attachment to liberty that Judas preached,
they said, 'Now, tell us honestly, are we right in
paying taxes to Csesar or no?"
"It was a vile trick," I said.
"Jesus was not taken in by it," said Nicodemus.
"He asked them to show him a denarius, and the
men, somewhat wondering, handed him the coin.
"Whose head and inscription is this?' he said, and
the men answered, 'Caesar's.' 'Then pay to Csesar
what belongs to Csesar and to God what belongs
to God,' said Jesus."
"He is too clever to be caught," I said, and
Nicodemus answered,
"Yes. But that does not endear him to the
Priests and Council."
"I hate them for their enmity," I cried with
passion, but Nicodemus said,
"Your friend would not have you feel thus.
How can you help God to undo the evil such
men do if you are so blinded by hate that you
cannot see what was in their minds when they
did it? Look you, I am old and have seen much
of life, but I try to put myself in the place of
these men and know what they feel. Cannot you
do likewise?"
I was abashed and said,

148 By an Unknown Disciple
"Jesus rebuked them. I have seen his anger."
"When Jesus rebuked them was it not because
they refused to show kindness? Has Jesus ever
preached any but one way into the Kingdom?
Your friend is gentle and great and humble. I
am not as he," said Nicodemus. "I do not say
you should love the Pharisees, but I ask you to
show understanding of them. If they kill Jesus
it will be from the best of motives."
"And not because they hate him?" I cried, un
believing. Nicodemus smiled sadly.
"Think you there is room in the soul of Caiaphas
for so wild a passion as hate? His heart is cold.
There is no fire within him. How can such a one
understand Jesus ? He can but think him a fool."
"No man ever looked in the face of Jesus and
thought him a fool," I cried.
"To Caiaphas a clever man preaching folly
is more dangerous than a fool. As you live your
life, you judge your neighbours. How can these
men, whose thoughts are only of bearing rule
upon earth, judge of Jesus, whose message is to
mind men of the spirit? There are limits to
what a man may hold in his thoughts, and theirs
are only of this world."
"It cannot be that Jesus will lose his life be
cause of a misunderstanding?" I said.

By an Unknown Disciple 149
"No ruler will admit that he does not under
stand," answered Nicodemus. "And indeed, if
God's Kingdom were here there would be much
change. Jesus himself says the last will be first
and the first last. The Rulers do not want change.
They are satisfied with the power they hold under
the Romans. They think it their duty to keep
our religion and customs as they were handed
down to us. Jesus does not regard matters of
the law as the Rulers do. He preaches more lib
erty than our customs have allowed. He knows
that if you give a man the right to choose for
himself, you give him the right to make mistakes,
but he has a boundless faith that God will teach
if men but listen. The Priests have not this faith.
They say he is upsetting all law and order. Take
the question of the Sabbath. The Priests say that
Jesus preaches against the Sabbath, and that, if
he destroys the Sabbath, the Romans will force
conscription into their armies upon us. They can
not train men who keep the seventh day as strictly
as do the Jews. Even the Roman discipline would
be broken by that custom. It is only the strict
observance of the Sabbath that has hitherto kept
us from serving."
Nicodemus was much perturbed, and my anx
iety grew as I listened.
"That is the danger for Jesus," he went on.

150 By an Unknown Disciple
"He will be killed by men who believe in their
own good intentions. The Rulers are sure they do
the will of God. They think now, and they are
sincere — remember I am one of them and come
straight from Jerusalem — that if Jesus goes on
preaching there will be a tumult in Galilee. The
Galileans have always been turbulent. They may
try to establish the Kingdom by throwing off the
Roman rule. If there is a rising, whatever its
result, the Priests and Rulers will lose. If Jesus
wins, he is no friend to their power and they will
go. If the Romans win, then also our Rulers
must lose, for the Romans will blame them for
the rising and will take away the powers of the
Council." "But it is not in the heart of Jesus to lead a
rebellion," I said.
"It is in the heart of some of his disciples,"
said Nicodemus. "If the Priests do not under
stand the teaching, neither do the disciples. Judas
Iscariot has done him much harm. It is in my
mind that he tries to make a tool of Jesus. I do
not trust him."
"He has tried, but Jesus would not listen," I
said. "He will try to force his hand," said Nico
demus. "Judas is blinded by hate of the Romans.
From what I have seen of Jesus he will not be

By an Unknown Disciple 151
able to sway his will. But if Judas joined Jesus,
hoping for the deliverance of our nation, what
will he do when he learns that Jesus does not mean
rebellion? Judas is as bitter at heart as a camel.
He is a dangerous man to disappoint."
My heart was sick as I listened. Nicodemus
was so balanced and wise and yet so anxious.
"But there is Pilate," I cried, seeing a ray of
hope. "The Council cannot kill without the
Roman permit. Pilate is no friend of the Priests."
"Pilate's position is not so secure that he can
risk a conflict either with the people or with the
Council. He has few troops in Judea. The Rul
ers will bring such evidence that he cannot resist,
even if he distrust it. Men say, too, that the Em
peror looks at him with suspicion since he failed
to bring the ensigns with Csesar's effigies to Jeru
salem. The Jews defeated Pilate in that. Here
again is misunderstanding. Csesar does not know
the strength of our feeling against graven images,
but if he learn that his ensigns now pass Jerusa
lem by a back way, he may demand the worship
of his effigy. The Jews will die rather than ren
der it, and this Pilate knows. If he cannot make
Csesar understand our customs, and if, on top of
this, there is tumult, and troops have to be sent
from Syria, Pilate will be recalled, and perhaps
lose his head. There is another matter, too, that

152 By an Unknown Disciple
men speak of — Pilate needs the favour of the
High Priest in his plan for bringing water by
aqueduct to Jerusalem. These Romans like to
leave such memorials of their rule. Pilate wants
to pay for this out of the Temple treasury. Where
else can he find the money? If he is to use the
Corban must he not be friends with the High
Priest? But you know Pilate, even as I do."
"I have always found him a just man," I said.
"Just, but hard," said Nicodemus. "What is
one life to him if he can purchase order by sacri
ficing it? He has shed much blood before and
will again."
We fell silent again, I pondering, and then
another hope, weak indeed, struck me, and I said,
"Jesus is not under the jurisdiction of Pilate.
He is of Galilee and under Herod. Herod has
shown great interest in him and sent for him."
Nicodemus shook his head.
"Herod is like all men of his sort and curious
of novelty. Did Jesus go to see him?"
"No, he refused," I answered.
"Then Herod will do nothing to help him. He
may be angry if Pilate usurps his authority, but
he does not want sedition in Galilee. If he killed
Jesus the people would blame him, but Herod is a
fox. He will let Pilate do it, and put the blame
on the Romans. And in any case the Priests will

By an Unknown Disciple 153
arrest Jesus in Jerusalem, and he is under Pilate
there." "They cannot arrest him without evidence that
he preaches rebellion," I persisted.
"You do not understand their craft," said Nico
demus. "If they fail in that, as they must fail,
Jesus being so wise, they have another contriv
ance. They will indict him for treason."
"Treason? How can that be?" I asked.
"Our Priests maintain that the laws under
which they hold their power were given us by
God. Therefore to teach the breaking of them
is blasphemy. The desecration of the Sabbath
may seem a small matter to Pilate, but the Priests
will then say that Jesus preaches that he is the
son of God and that the divine lives in him."
"Of course he does," I said. "It is part of his
teaching that God is our father and has his dwell
ing within us. I have often heard him teach so.
And if God is our father, must we not be his
sons?" "Our rulers are blind," said Nicodemus. "If
they had feeling they could burst the scales that
blind their eyes. But cold-hearted they listen to
Jesus, and when he tells of a spiritual kingdom,
they think he desires to found an earthly one, and
when he tells of the divine in man they say he
teaches that he himself is God. The punishment

154 By an Unknown Disciple
for blasphemy is death. They mean to kill him.
Let me tell you more. There is a man, a mason,
who had a withered arm. Jesus healed him."
"I know. I saw him do it," I said.
"The man is working at his trade again. The
Pharisees were angry with him for his gratitude
to Jesus, and to stop his mouth they told him that
Jesus claimed to be God, and the man answered
that of a certainty he was more than man, for
such kindness was never shown by a man to men.
The Pharisees are full of wrath with the man,
but he blazons it abroad, and his testimony will
help to kill Jesus. That is not the only thing.
There has already been an attempt to arrest Jesus.
The Chief Priest sent some of the officials to
bring him before the Council, but the men found
him teaching, and waited until he had finished,
wanting to bring him away quietly for fear of
the people. I was at the Council myself when
the men returned without Jesus. The Chief Priest
asked them why they had not brought Jesus, and
all the excuse the men could offer was that they
had never heard any man speak as he did. The
Chief Priest was so taken aback that he could
only say,
" 'Has he deceived you too, as he has the com
mon people, who are ignorant of the law?'
"Another of the Pharisees said to the men,

By an Unknown Disciple 155
" 'The common people are cursed in their igno
rance. None of the Rulers or Pharisees have been
taken in by him.' I thought all this so unfair
that I asked if it was according to our Law to
judge a man without having heard his defence, or
even knowing anything of his deeds. They all
turned on me then, and Jonathan, the son of An
nas, said, sneering, 'Are you also from Galilee?
Search the Scriptures and see whether they say
that a Prophet is to come out of Galilee !' "
I laid my hand on the hand of Nicodemus, the
bravery of the frail old man so touched me, and
for a time we sat silent. Then he went on,
"There was another day when Jesus was teach
ing in the Temple Court and the Priests them
selves came to confront him. They said to him,
'Tell us by what authority you act? Who gave
you your authority?' Jesus answered them, T too
will ask you a question. Give me an answer first.
Was the baptism that John gave of divine or of
human origin?' You see what a dilemma this
^put them in? If they said divine, Jesus would
ask them why they had refused to believe in it,
and they dared not say human because of the peo
ple around them, who all believed that John was
inspired." "What did they do?" I asked.
"Oh, they gave it up. They said they did not

156 By an Unknown Disciple
know, and Jesus at once answered that then he.
too, would not answer them as to his authority
for his deeds."
"Is there no way to save him?" I asked.
"I have done what I could and failed," said
Nicodemus. "It was for that I came north. For
you may do something. Your father was a friend
to Caiaphas and you know Pilate. You must go
to Jerusalem. At the least you can warn Jesus
and perchance withdraw him for a time."
For a moment hope lit up my heart. Then I
remembered, and the flame died away.
"Jesus will never flee," I said. "He has it in
his mind that he may have to suffer. I mind me
of things he has said. He knows that if he goes
to the Passover he goes most surely to his death."
"Nevertheless, we may save him. And if
not  " Nicodemus paused.
"If not?" I repeated.
"Death is the right of all," said Nicodemus.
"Must he die?" I cried out in anguish.
"If he resist, the people will rise. Jesus would
never thus cause desolation. But how can he re
sist? Has he not taught that wrong is never to
be repaid by wrong, or violence by violence? If
he resists, the Pharisees will soon point out that
his teaching has a flaw. Has he not said that they
taught what they did not mean to follow?"

By an Unknown Disciple 157
I buried my face in my hands.
"Son," said Nicodemus, and in his voice was
the great tenderness of the aged who have leamt
wisdom in the service of God, "Lift up your heart.
We will do what man can. It may be possible to
persuade Caiaphas to take no action against Jesus,
seeing that the teaching means peace and love
only. Let us go to Capernaum and see Jesus, and
then we can travel on to Judea."
And so we set out for Jerusalem. But we rode
under black shadow, the shadow of misunder
standing, a shadow that darkened the world.

XIV
IT was night when we reached Capernaum, and
save for the barking of the dogs who arose
from their sleep in the soft dust of the street as
we entered, there was no sound to be heard. The
depression in me had deepened during the slow
journey south, and as we neared the crowded vil
lages and towns about the lake it seemed as if
everywhere man's power was closing round me
crushing my life. No wind stirred, and there was
something stifling in the air, as if all freedom and
bracing had been left behind in the cold north,
and the breath of God had ceased to breathe
through Capernaum.
Near by the house of Jesus I got down from my
mule, leaving Nicodemus, who being old was
worn out by travel, to go on with the mule train
to the house where we had settled to rest that
night. Misery was so heavy upon me that I felt
I should choke within walls, but Jesus might be
sleeping beneath the palms in the courtyard, and
if I could but see him I felt the blackness would
fall from me. 158

By an Unknown Disciple 159
The moon was up and shone through the heat
haze, but her light was dim. The great plumes
of the palms rose motionless, massed against the
sky, but there were no ox-yokes stacked beside their
hairy trunks. The beaten earth was swept and
desolate. There was not even a shaving to be
seen. In haste I went to the house, but the shut
ters were tight, the door was shut, and the outer
bar and wooden padlock secure. For a moment
I leant against the door. It would have been the
giving up of hope to go. At last I roused myself,
and went round the house to the lake. The water
glimmered dully, but there were no boats drawn
up on the shore. Here, too, all was swept and
desolate. It seemed as if the work was finished.
I lingered by the shore, for I could not face the
loneliness of a house and of other men's talk. I
strained my eyes over the lake-shore searching for
something, I knew not what, hoping where I knew
there was no hope, and far away close to the edge
of the dark water, I saw the shrouded figure of a
woman crouched as if in pain. I went towards
her hastily, and hearing my step, she turned and
as I neared her, rose and stood hesitating. The
moonlight lit up her face, and I saw she was a
woman past middle life, but handsome still with
the remains of blowzy beauty. She was so like
and yet so unlike some woman that I had known

160 By an Unknown Disciple
that I felt I must know her, and I cried aloud,
"Do not be afraid; it is I."
At that she came swiftly towards me and said,
"You seek Jesus, but he has gone. They are all
gone. Jesus and his mother and his brothers."
As she spoke, some turn of the words told me
who she was, in spite of the change in her. She
was the wife of Zebedee, a bold-faced strap of a
woman, clever and managing, whose boastfulness
and egotism had turned many from her, though
there had always been a coarse good-nature about
her that inclined me to her. But her boldness
had fallen from her now, and she trembled as she
spoke, and I, seeing this, cried out,
"Oh, mother, what has befallen thee?" and at
that she put her hand on my breast to steady her
self and said,
"Oh, son, I am bewildered by many thoughts.
I am in pain."
"Tell me, mother," I answered. "It may ease
the pain." And at that, as if she could no longer
hold her peace, she broke into speech.
"Jesus is gone," she cried. "And they said, the
neighbours all said, that he was going to Jerusa
lem to take his crown. For it is rumoured every
where that he is to be our king. So I, for am I
not the wife of Zebedee, the owner of many boats?
I dressed my hair and went forth to say farewell.

By an Unknown Disciple 161
My two sons had been with him from the begin
ning, and who had a better right than I? The
whole town had gathered together to see Jesus go.
The courtyard was full, and Peter, boasting, tried
to keep me back. 'We go to Jerusalem to a tri
umph,' he said. 'Do not trouble the Master.
Soon he will be too great for the people of Caper
naum.' But I pushed past him, and the neigh
bours seeing me, made way for me. Why should
Peter have everything? As I went forward Jesus
himself came out of the house alone, and stopped
to put the lock on the bar. When he had pressed
the pins home he turned, and seeing me, greeted
me, and I cried out, 'Oh, Jesus, I am come to ask
a favour.' " 'Ask,' he said, for you know he is ever kind
to us women, not like other men who think that
beyond babes and household we are of no account.
So I said, and my two sons James and John were
there, one on either side of me,
" 'I ask that when you come to your kingdom
these two sons of mine shall sit, one on your right
and the other on the left hand of your throne,'
and the neighbours, listening, said aloud, 'She has
right. Is not Zebedee the owner of many boats?'
"But Jesus said, and his face was grave, grave
and grey as the earth before sunrise, and at the
sound of his voice silence fell on us all,

162 By an Unknown Disciple
" 'Mistress, you know not what you ask.'
"Then I cried aloud, for I did not understand,
and why should Peter and the others have all?
" 'Master, when you are king, the glories of
your Kingdom will be yours to give to whom you
please. When you make a feast, you will bid to
it whom you will, and they will eat and drink at
your table. I ask but this; that you will share
this glory with my sons, that you will give them
meat at your table, and that they, too, shall drink
from your cup.' I had no shame in speaking thus,
and the people all murmured in approval. Jesus
turned to my two sons and said,
" 'Are you able to drink of the cup that I am
about to drink?' And, I prompting them, they
said, " 'Yes, we are able.' Jesus turned to me again
and looked me in the face. His eyes were stead
fast, but it was then that this fear fell upon me.
For it is not thus that kings look who go to take
their kingdom.
" 'Oh, Mistress,' he said, T came not to be
served, but to serve. Thy sons shall indeed drink
of my cup, but glory is not mine to give. That
will be given to whom God wills.' And with that
he walked ahead, and the others followed. And
with them went my two sons."

By an Unknown Disciple 163
She crouched down on the shore again, and
rocked herself to and fro.
"I have been dreaming," she cried. "Jesus has
cast a spell on me. He is but a carpenter. How
could such as he be King of the Jews?"
Then I, to comfort her, spoke, crouching beside
her. "Oh, mother," I said, "David was but a herd
boy, and Jesus might well be King of the Jews.
But his kingdom is not of this world."
"He has cast a spell on me," she repeated, un
heeding. "For even now, though I saw him walk
forth, and did ever king walk to his kingdom? I
feel that there is power in him, and that he is great.
Else, why should I be thus?"
For a moment she hid her face in her hands,
and then she turned fiercely to me and said,
"Look you, when my two sons first joined him
I was angry, for what was he but a workman like
others? But, afterwards, when he was often
about the house, I saw that there was something
in him that was not in other men. He had a high
way of looking at things that other men made
mean, and I felt there was a great destiny for him.
And if for him why not for my two sons? But
what has become of my dreams? What have we
done to him? He has changed. He used to be so
gay with his talk of the kingdom that was coming,

164 By an Unknown Disciple
but now when men say he goes to be king, the
gaiety has gone out of him. He was more like a
man going to his death than one who went to take
a kingdom. Oh, son, what is going to become of
us all?"
"Mother," I said, "men are not yet great enough
to hold by the life that Jesus lives. It is too high
for them. They grasp at it, but fall far past it.
Jesus is master of life, but we, we are the servants
of life. Whether he lives, or whether he dies, he
is still master. For he knows, and we are igno
rant." "What does he know?" she whispered.
"He knows of the life of the spirit," I said.
t "Was it that only he preached?" she asked.
"Did he not always say he had to establish a king
dom?" "Yes, mother, but not a kingdom like this
world's kingdoms. It was a kingdom of love,
where the greatest is the servant of all."
She pondered for a while, her head on her arms.
Then she said, musing,
"There was that in his face that was dim to me.
He sees something that other men are blind to.
What is it that he has done to us? He has turned
the world upside down. And I ? Am I only a fool
old woman? For I thought he was going to be
king. And my two sons?" Suddenly her voice

By an Unknown Disciple 165
broke into a, wail. "What will become of my two
sons? He said that they should drink of his cup.
What cup did he mean?"
She shook me by the arm in her eagerness.
"Nay, mother," I answered. "How can I say?
I go to Jerusalem after Jesus. The cup that he
drinks, is it not good enough for thy two sons?"
"Is it death?" she cried, peering at me through
the darkness.
"And what if it is?" I said, for I could not lie
to her. "Thy sons may return, but Jesus  "
"He will never return. There was death in
his face. He has taken them from me. My sons
will be slain."
And with that she fell into bitter weeping and
rocked herself to and fro.

XV
THE journey to Jerusalem was long to me.
Beyond Magdala where the black hills begin
to close in upon the lake we were delayed by the
passing of camel trains laden with salt fish and
bound for Ptolemais, while all the way the people
going up to Jerusalem for the Passover thronged
the roads and made haste impossible. We did not
linger to see the beauty of Herod's new city of
Tiberias. The black citadel above the town, the
palace and theatre and forum were Greek, not
Jewish, and the place was alien to us. The gaiety
and clatter, the painted courtesans in their Greek
clothing, and even the blue lake with its fleet of
gaudy pleasure boats were sinister and strange.
But indeed, at Tiberias and during the long jour
ney south through the stony wastes of Judea,
where only stringy, grey-green grass seemed to
flourish, I saw little of what was around me. My
mind had outstripped my body, and was entering
Jerusalem with Jesus. What had happened to
him? Beyond Bethshan we caught up with more
166

By an Unknown Disciple 167
camel trains, this time bound for Jerusalem with
salt fish for the Passover. We made what haste
we could, but as we neared the Damascus Gate
the crowds grew thicker, and it was harder to press
through them. It was the day before the Pass
over when we came out on the flat table-land above
Jemsalem. Even then, when in the clear air of
noon the Holy City set on the hills rose before
us in all its glory of towers and bastions, I was
in such haste to find Jesus that I had no mind to
look at it. But somewhere on my inner eye that
picture must have stamped itself, for to this day,
if I but close my lids, I can see its wonder. On
the side of the sea against the pale sky of spring
the Tower of David still stands on Mount Sion,
while over against the sun-rising the Citadel and
Temple, high above the Valley of Giants, show
Mount Olivet beyond. It seemed, indeed, the City
of God, but it was out past that beauty that Jesus
went to his death.
The steep streets of Jerusalem were full of
people. Men talked together in groups angrily
or earnestly, and moved restlessly from one group
to another, blocking the way of those who wished
to enter the City. I had never seen such restless
ness in a Passover crowd, and my mind misgave
me that the tumult and excitement boded ill to
Jesus ; so I slipped from my mule, and sending it

168 By an Unknown Disciple
on with the men-servants, mixed with the throng
to hear what men said.
The stream of people entering the City pressed'
down the narrow street towards the Temple. It
was slow moving in that current, so I pushed out
of it into the shelter of an archway, where I could
stand a few steps above the crowd. A small group
of men had already taken refuge in the courtyard
within, where they debated noisily, heedless of
the roar of the crowd without.
"The man is a dangerous rebel," I heard one
say in the precise accent of the Scribes. "You
have but to look at what he is doing and mark
the people who follow him. You can then judge
for yourself if he have any regard for the law."
"All Galileans are rebels and the encouragers
of lawlessness," said another.
Hearing this I went into the courtyard and
joined myself to the men, who, occupied solely
with their dispute, paid no heed to me.
"Jesus is not unlawful, but he mars the path
of the Priests. That is why they hate him," said
a rough man in the coarse dialect of Galilee.
"I am no friend of the Priests, but I call riot
ing in the very courts of the Temple unlawful,"
put in another voice, and the Galilean answered
hotly, "It is the trading that is unlawful. Men have

By an Unknown Disciple 169
no right to make a market of the courts. The
Temple was meant for worship, not for money-
making." "He has right," said another. I could not see
the speaker, but it was the voice of an old man.
"It was not so in my day. The courts of the Tem
ple grow more heathen every year. It is more
like a street of booths than the entrance to a place
of prayer. It is a scandal."
"They lack but one thing, a temple to Venus,"
said a fat man, with a laugh.
"Men must buy the sacrifices somewhere, and as
for the money-changers, well, if the Priests will
not take Roman money  " began another, but
the Scribe cut him short.
"The bartering is wrong," he said. "I do not
object to Jesus wishing to reform such things.
I object to the way he does it."
"What ought he to have done?" asked the Gali
lean, and the other touched perhaps, by the scorn
in his voice, answered, with some heat,
"He could have gone to those' in authority. If
he had pointed out to the High Priest what was
wrong  "
The fat man slapped himself on the thigh and
laughed aloud, and most of the other men joined
in the laugh ; for indeed it was common gossip that
Annas drew rent from the booths.

170 By an Unknown Disciple
"Jesus need not have whipped them out like
dogs." "How else could he have done it?" cried the
Galilean. "Dogs they were, defiling the Temple.
Can one reason with dogs?"
There was a murmur of assent, for there was
great indignation in Jerusalem at the Priests' tol
erance of evil, and at their pandering to the pagan
customs of Rome.
The wily Scribe, seeing he had not carried many
with him, hastily changed his ground, and said,
"Jesus may have right in this, but in other mat
ters he goes too far. If we once admit his teach
ing, there will be an end to the law."
The Galilean opened his lips, but before he
could reply another man broke in.
"That is true. There is no doubt he can sway
the minds of men. There was a time when he
attracted me; but he goes too far. He alarms
people." "What are you afraid of?" asked the Galilean;
and the other, nettled by the tone of his voice,
answered shortly,
"He preaches blasphemy."
"I have often heard him teach, but never blas
phemy," the Galilean began, but the other inter
rupted, "Were you in Jerusalem in the winter? No?

By an Unknown Disciple 171
I thought as much. If you had been, as we were,
you would have heard what all Jerusalem heard."
"I was in Jemsalem. I heard men say Jesus
was mad," said one, and "I, too," said another, and
"I heard he was possessed," said a third, so that
the Galilean, taken aback by so much accord, could
only answer doggedly,
"Jesus never preached blasphemy."
"Not only did he preach it, but he was nearly
stoned for it. He slipped away by a back path
and escaped," said the man who had first spoken
of blasphemy.
"Did you hear him yourself?" demanded the
Galilean, fiercely. And the other answered re
luctantly, "I was not there myself. But I was told by
a friend who was." The triumphant Galilean
laughed aloud and cried out scornfully,
"Is there one here who himself heard Jesus
teach blasphemy?" And unexpectedly the Scribe
replied, "I heard."
There was a silence, and then the Galilean said,
"Tell us what he said," and the others joining
in urged, "Yes, tell us what he said."
"He said that he and God were one," said the
Scribe.

172 By an Unknown Disciple
There was another silence, and the men crowded
nearer to the speaker.
"Go on," said a voice eagerly.
"The people who heard were angry, and took
up stones to stone him, but he asked for which of
the good deeds which he had done were they going
to slay him. 'For no good deed,' the men replied,
'but for blasphemy, because you, being a man,
make yourself out to be God.' "
The Scribe stopped again, and the Galilean said
impatiently, "What did Jesus answer?"
"He asked if it did not stand written in the
law, T said, Ye are gods, and all of you are
children of the Most High.' The men said it was
so written, and then Jesus asked them, if those
to whom God's word was spoken were called gods,
why did they say that he whom God had sent as
a messenger was blaspheming when he said he
was God's son. It was after that that they tried
to arrest him, but he got away."
"He is very clever. He got out of it neatly,"
said the fat man.
"I see no blasphemy in that," said the Galilean,
but with more doubt.
"It is blasphemy. He ought to be stoned,"
said a hard voice that I had not heard before.
"No — no. It is wrong to take life, and there

By an Unknown Disciple 173
is great wisdom in his other teaching," said the old
man. "Jesus will lose his life for all that," repeated
the hard voice.
"Who will dare to lay a hand on him?" asked
the Galilean fiercely.
"Our Rulers. He talks too much of the need
for clean sweeps and not patching old garments,"
replied the merciless voice.
"His followers have grown, and now comes this
clearing of the Temple courts. The Council will
surely arrest him," said the Scribe.
"They must reckon with us Galileans first," said
the Galilean stoutly; and with this there broke
out a tumult of so many voices that I could not
hear what the men said. But I had learnt enough,
and sick at heart I went forth into the noise of the
street to seek Nicodemus, and consult with him
what could be done.
Now the house of Nicodemus lay close to that
of Caiaphas, and their courtyards adjoined. Here
on Mount Zion there was not so great a throng,
so that as I went to the gate of Nicodemus and
one coming in haste from the courtyard of Caia
phas knocked up against me as if he were blind,
I looked up in wonder, and behold it was Judas
Iscariot. I seized him by the arm.

174 By an Unknown Disciple
"Judas," I cried, "you are the very man I would
speak with. Come apart here," and I drew him
aside into an embrasure where there was a stone
seat. He resisted a little.
"I am in haste," he said, but I overbore him.
"I will not keep you, Judas, but I must see
Jesus. He is in danger. Where is he?" I said.
"Jesus? I do not know," he answered reluc
tantly. "Where does he lodge?" I asked.
"Lower down on the Mount. At the house of
John. But of late he has taken to sleep on the
Mount of Olives. At least he spends the nights
there. For aught I know he may be there now.
No. He cannot, for he has asked us all to sup
with him to-night. I mean those who were first
called," he added hastily, and I, wondering at the
confusion of his speech and somewhat hurt at this
exclusion of me, answered,
"I must see him. No. Not now, after the
supper. Where will he be then?"
Judas looked at me with a horror growing in his
eyes. "He will surely be in the Garden of Gethsem
ane. It is at the foot of the Mount of Olives.
You reach it from the Temple. By the Golden
Gate." "Of course, I know where the Garden is," I said,

By an Unknown Disciple 175
wondering still more, and then I put my wonder
aside and told him what I had just heard. When
I had finished he sat silent for a moment.
Then he began to speak.
"He throws away all his chances. We Judeans
are not roused as easily as the Galileans, yet only
the other day he entered Jerusalem with triumph
such as few men have known. But he would not
follow it up. I could not make him see that the
Jews want a king, not new teaching. I urged, but
he would not act. He had but to lift his hand,
and he would have been the leader of a following
that would have swept Pilate and the Romans
into the sea. After that, could he not have dealt
with the Priests? But he must needs go and clear
the courts of the Temple now, now, before he has
an army to back him."
Amazed at his talk when I had just told him
Jesus was in danger, I said,
"Jesus does not want any but a spiritual king
dom." Judas looked at me askance.
"He cannot be such a fool," he said.
"It is not folly, but the way out of folly," I
answered, but Judas had ceased to listen. He sat
bent forward, his elbow on his knee, and as his
custom was, he gnawed his knuckles. Suddenly

176 By an Unknown Disciple
he straightened himself and said swiftly as if he
argued with some one,
"He lacks strength to make himself king. His
followers are falling away. Some even of the dis
ciples have left him. When others would take him
by force and make him a king he goes away and
hides, yes, hides."
His eyes began to glow with their old fanatical
light. "The Pharisees have put this talk of blasphemy
about for their own ends, but Jesus will not come
out into the open and deny it. If he would but
lead us now when the city is full of Galileans,
instead of being half-a-dozen unknown men, we
should occupy Jerusalem at the head of thousands.
The Romans are a mere handful, and would flee
before us. But Jesus is too soft."
"Cannot you see how great he is, Judas?" I
asked. Judas moved uneasily.
"No man has greater powers," he said. "Other
Deliverers have failed, but Jesus could free us if
he willed. If I had but half his power, I would
never lay down my arms till we had obtained our
freedom. Is this the time to preach love when
the Romans have us in their grip? If he is left
to go his own way, they will rule for ever. I
tell you there is but one . . ."

By an Unknown Disciple 177
He bit off his words and was silent. Then I,
prompting him, for he seemed as one who talks in
his sleep, said,
"Yes, Judas. One way? You said?"
He passed his hand over his eyes bewildered.
"It is naught," he said. Then, rising, he added
as if to reassure himself,
"Jesus will not heed me. But we will see. I
have done what I could."
"I, too, will do what I can," I said. "I go to
see the High Priest." At that I stopped, amazed
at the fear that sprang into the eyes of Judas, and
thinking that he feared for Jesus, I added,
"Caiaphas was my father's friend. If I tell
him I am a friend of Jesus, he may listen."
The fear died out of the eyes of Judas.
"You will not find him now," he said wearily,
again as if he spoke in his sleep.
"How do you know? Have you seen him?"
I asked, astonished.
" "I? Why should I see the High Priest?" said
Judas hastily; then, warily, as a man picks his
steps across shaking ground, he added,
"Men say there is a Council meeting to-night.
I do not know. Why should I know of such
things? I must go. I shall be missed at the Sup
per." And abruptly without further parley, he
went on his way.

XVI
NOW Annas, who had been High Priest, was
a man of a little soul and a great lover of
money. He loved empire too, and abusing the
liberty which the Romans allowed our Council, he
had usurped the power of the Procurator, and had
put men to death without obtaining the Roman
assent. Because of this unlawfulness the Procu
rator had forced the Council to take away from
him the High Priesthood, but he, by scheming, had
seen to it that the office passed to his son-in-law
Caiaphas, so that the supremacy, in seeming lost
to Annas, was still in his family, and he himself
had held great authority. But he was an old man
now, and most of the real power lay in the hands
of Caiaphas. It was him I had to see. When
Judas had left me I did not at once go to his door.
The talk with Judas had troubled me, and I sat
on thinking. There was something hidden from
me, and I felt that new danger threatened Jesus.
If I could but read the mind of Judas I should
know what it was. But I was like a man who sees
a light floating in the mist and strains after it, only
178

By an Unknown Disciple 179
^¦^'¦¦•^•""'"•••'•••''¦"•••••M,i ' ' mmmmm — i 11 ¦¦i—-i— 11 i "¦¦
to find it move further off. So after a time I
gave it up, and went to the house of the High
Priest. '¦
Caiaphas was a man of a fierce countenance,
and tall above the height of other men. There
was no flesh on his bones, his lips were thin, and
his nose like the beak of a hawk. His eyes, too,
were hawk's eyes, and could hood themselves at
will, hiding his mind. There was no suppleness
in any part of him. When I found myself before
him, and we had greeted one another, he looked at
me out of his hard eyes.
"It is an ill time for you to be in Jemsalem.
You would be better away. The city is full of
tumultuous doings." He spoke coldly, and in his
voice was an edged warning.
"I have just come from the Lebanon. I would
speak with you alone," I said. Caiaphas turned
and told the men-servants who were in the room
to stand aside, and they did so. When we were
alone he said sternly,
"I have heard much of you. You are known
to have been in ill company, and the rumour has
done you no good."
"Do you mean Jesus? He is my friend," I
said, my heart waxing hot within me.
"He is a dangerous friend. For your father's
sake I would bear much from you, but do not try

180 By an Unknown Disciple
my patience too far. You have always been one
of those who are too fond of innovations. It
would be better for you to return to the Lebanon,
and leave this Jesus to his reward. He is a rash
guide for youth."
I was angry at this.
"Who says he is dangerous?" I cried out.
"I say it. He is leading the people astray."
"You have talked with him yourself?" I asked.
"I have never seen him," he answered haugh
tily. "How, then, do you know that he is leading the
people astray?"
"I have heard of this kingdom that he preaches,"
said Caiaphas, a glow of anger in his eyes at my
persistence. "He is stirring the people up to up
set the law and destroy all order. The nation was
peaceful and there was no agitation before he
came, but his teaching is making men discon
tented." "The teaching of the Kingdom is in our own
Scriptures," I said.
"Why, then, does Jesus tell the people that their
rulers will not welcome it? Do not we also read
the Prophets? What can this man teach that we
do not know?"
"You have not taught the people what you

By an Unknown Disciple 181
•— — ¦
know," I answered boldly, and Caiaphas, resting
his eyes on me for a moment, answered,
' "How can the ignorant be taught the law? Can
the poor man bear mle? Jesus knows nothing of
government. He would bring calamities of all
kinds upon us. The wise man must mle, and wis
dom comes by opportunity of leisure. How shall
he get leisure that mindeth the plough and whose
talk is of bullocks?"
His voice was that of a man who reasons with
a child. !
"Does not bearing rule over others destroy wis
dom?" I asked. I
Caiaphas looked at me as if I uttered madness,
"Does Jesus preach such folly?" he said, and I
answered, "Jesus would have the wise teach those who are
ignorant, and the strong help those who are weak."
Caiaphas was silent for a moment, and when he
spoke it was with impatience.
"How could such a kingdom stand? Jesus for
gets the nature of man. Envy and greed, hatred
and malice, are human. If the people follow his
doctrine nothing will be restrained from them that
they have imagined to do, and how shall the State
be maintained ? There will not be a man left who
will till the ground. No. If you would have

182 By an Unknown Disciple
peace in your borders, it must be by the mle of
the strong."
Caiaphas spoke as if this were the only truth.
His certainty staggered me, and for a moment I
was almost convinced by the wisdom of this world.
Then suddenly I seemed to see the face of Jesus
and the kindliness in his eyes, and the vision so
moved me that I cried out,
"Jesus teaches that love is a greater power than
fear." At this Caiaphas looked at me sternly.
"You are indeed besotted by this man. You
do not see him as he is. I will tell you the secret
of Jesus. He wants to sweep away all old things.
This new wine of his must not be put in old bot
tles. For why? Because Jesus will allow none
to bear mle but himself. So, forsooth, we must
all make a fresh start."
"He means a fresh start in the hearts of men.
It is the law of love," I said.
The thin lips of Caiaphas- were set tight.
"It is the law of rebellion," he said, "and the
Council will deal with it." And at that I spoke
out. "Men read his teaching wrong. They have re
ported it wrong to you. I have never heard Jesus
preach aught but peace and love."
"Cannot I judge for myself? Is it for such as

By an Unknown Disciple 183
you to teach the High Priest?" he said insolently.
This angered me, but I heeded it not, and being
afraid for Jesus, humbled myself and laid aside
the fury of my mind.
"Jesus is my friend," I said, "and I love him.
For my sake, will you not show mercy?"
Caiaphas answered not a word. His eyes met
mine, and we looked at one another. Then I fell
back a step, for I saw I had lost my case before I
had stated it. Caiaphas was not merciful. The
pain of other men did not vibrate within his soul.
One note will answer to another if plucked on a
different instrument, but the lifeless strings made
more response than he. He could watch the heart
being torn from out the living body of a man, and
not feel one echoing pang. Yet nothing in his
nature made him ashamed, for he did not know
himself. On the smooth rock of his self -ignorance
I could make no mark. As well might one strive
with naked hands to tear down the foundations
of Zion. But I could not leave him without one
more effort to save Jesus.
"Caiaphas," I said, "you have warned me. I,
too, would warn you. There is danger for you.
It will not be easy to crush Jesus, for the people
love him. He has many followers."
Caiaphas looked at me.
"All his followers do not love him," he said.

184 By an Unknown Disciple
With that something that had been hiding in
the depths of my soul rose and possessed me. The
light after which I had strained suddenly lit up
my mind, and I knew the truth. Judas had be
trayed Jesus. He had seen Caiaphas, and they
had a plan between them. For a moment more
I looked into the eyes of the High Priest, and then
I turned and went from his presence.
I found Nicodemus in an inner room of his
house, and with him was Joseph of Arimathea.
They were both perturbed. Joseph, like Nico
demus, was a Ruler of Israel, and all men trusted
him because of his uprightness. Now his broad
frank face was troubled, and his kindly eyes
clouded. As I told my tale his fingers were in his
curly brown beard, twisting it anxiously.
When I had finished he said,
"Judas may be in league with Caiaphas, but I
do not see how that will profit them now. The
Council cannot act at once. The Passover is too
near. Even if Caiaphas arrested Jesus to-night,
and the Council examined him and concluded the
trial early to-morrow, it would still be too late to
kill him. Before sentence is passed a day must
elapse, and by that time it will be the Passover.
They cannot condemn him during the feast; but
when it is over and the city quiet again they will

By an Unknown Disciple 185
surely try to take him. Therefore we must get
him away at once."
So it was settled. Nicodemus was to go to the
house of John close by on Mount Zion, to see if
Jesus was still there. Joseph would order mules
to be sent out of the city, and I, seeing that Judas
had said Jesus might be in the Garden of Geth
semane, was to seek him there and warn him.
"The gates close at sunset," said Joseph. "You
will have time to get out by the Golden Gate of
the Temple if you hasten. When you have found
Jesus withdraw him to Bethany where the mules
will meet you. Once we have him in the north
we can hide him till this is blown over. Hasten
now, or the gates will be shut."
So I, for the second time that day, pressed
through the narrow streets and heedless of the
tumult, ground against the crowd, pushing on
till I came to the courts of the Temple. Here I
passed out by the Golden Gate, and stood outside
the wall above the steep valley of Jehoshaphat,
on the other side of which was Mount Olivet.

XVII
THE valley of Jehoshaphat is so deep that a
man can scarce climb up or down on his
hands and feet, and on its other side the road
comes step and narrow from the Mount of Olives
to the brook Kedron. It was nigh sunset when I
crossed the stream, and began to clamber up the
hill between the gnarled trunks of the olive trees.
The Garden of Gethsemane was sunk in silence.
I heard no voice, I saw no one, and, despite my
self, I slackened my pace and steadied my breath
ing. In such a quiet the tumult and evil of the
city were but a dream. God himself might walk
in that stillness and beauty in the cool of the
evening. Near the top of the mountain, where the olive
trees fall away and the rough stone wall follows
the bend of the hill, I came out into the open.
The sun was setting and the evening shadows lay
on the land. To the east, beyond the bald grey
slopes of the Wilderness, the Mountains of Moab
were deepening into amethyst and purple, and in
the abyss the bright blue of the Dead Sea dark-
186

By an Unknown Disciple 187
ened into black. The glow in the west dyed the
towers of Jerusalem rose-red, and split on the flat
rocks outside the walls as if a fire burnt over them.
In the clear light it seemed that one might throw
a stone into the Courts of the Temple, but no
sound from within the city floated over to this
height. It was a land barren and desolate, but
beautiful with an exceeding great beauty. For a
moment I stood forgetting my mission lost in the
glory before me, and then I felt a hand laid on
my shoulder and turning I saw Jesus. At the
sight of his face my welfare passed away as a
cloud, and misery possessed my soul. An im
mense loneliness lay upon him, and in his eyes was
desolation. Seeing my distress he bent and kissed
me, and, his hand still on my shoulder, asked after
my well-being, but I could not answer, for I re
membered his danger, and shame was upon me.
• "Jesus," I stammered, "I have come to warn
you. I have seen Caiaphas, and you must flee."
His grip tightened on my shoulder.
"Where shall I flee?" he asked. "Can a man
flee from the will of God ? If I climb up to heaven
his hand shall take me, if I dig into hell is he not
there also?" and at that I knew I should not pre
vail. "It is death if you stay," I whispered.
"God is our guide even unto death," he an-

188 By an Unknown Disciple
swered, and then a great trembling fell upon him,
so that he shook beside me, and I trembled too,
afraid to speak.
"My soul is full of trouble, but what can I
say?" he cried, "I have prayed to God to save
me, but it may be for his purpose that I have come
to this hour. He gave me command what to say
and in what words to speak, and I have given the
message. If I must die I obey, for in obedience
to him is the life of the ages. But I am in fear."
The sweat broke out on his face, and I, sick
at heart at his woe, could only hold my peace
and listen, helpless.
"God has forsaken me. I have fallen out of
the knowledge of his purpose, and the fear of
death is upon me. I pray, but there is no answer.
I cry, but no one hears. I am shut out of the
world of the spirit. I wander in desolate places,
and cannot find my way."
I loved him so that it seemed as if the barrier
set between soul and soul broke suddenly, and
there came upon me a wide rushing in of waters
,as his desolation rolled itself over me.
"Is there no way of escape? Must you die?"
I cried, but he answered, i
"The gifts of God cannot be cast away. If
he gives death, shall I not take it?" And then
he cried out with a loud and bitter cry,

By an Unknown Disciple 189
"I found all men drunken, and none found I
athirst. I have poured out my soul, and no man
heeds. Oh my people what have I done that you
will not love me? What more ought I to do?
My soul grieves for you because you are blind in
your hearts, but in what have I afflicted you that
you will not see?"
The sweat poured down his face, and he wipe ¦
it off with his sleeve.
"I have shown men the way of life, but they
will not have me as their king. They have chosen
hate, not love, and how shall I save them from
the agony that must come upon them? They
know not what they do. It is not me they re
ject, but God."
When he had said this he went forward and
stood and leaned his hand on the wall, looking
out over the Wilderness. The deep blue of the
Dead Sea was black now, and grey clouds cov
ered the Mountains of Moab. The red glow still
lingered over Jemsalem. Then it too died away,
and darkness was upon us.
Jesus stood there silent, watching the colour
die from the earth, and I stood behind him, silent
also, waiting. When he spoke again I saw that
he was far from me.
"It is defeat," he said. "Even those whom
God has given me have not seen my meaning. I

190 By an Unknown Disciple
am to be reckoned among the lawless. But the
world is not left without a judge, for when men
understand the message they will judge them
selves, and in sorrow will unite to bring the king
dom to pass. Hate cannot be triumphant. It is
too feeble. It has none save itself to rejoice in
victory. But love, being bom of God, is strong
and courageous to suffer. I fail, but others will
conquer, for God yet liveth."
A tawny owl swept out from under the dark
trees, and swooped past into the valley seeking
its meat. Jesus watched its flight, and then he
said, "The world is beautiful, and it is hard to die.
I have seen death come to other men, and now it
comes to me. I cannot put aside that fear. It is
a way that all must pass," and then he turned to
me and said,
"I go apart alone. No man can help me now,
but surely God will listen?"
And he left me and went away across the open,
and passed into the shadow under the crooked
boughs of the olives.
I sat there under the wall listening to the noises i
of the night. The brown owls swept like ghosts
across the open, and one by one the stars came out
and shone in the firmament above me. I must

By an Unknown Disciple 191
1^^— ^^^^^^— ¦' I I —¦——III I ¦ II | ..I | ¦¦!¦¦¦ ll.l. |l^
have slept, for, suddenly, I started and sprang to
my feet, feeling that time had passed and that
something was about to happen. The brown owls
had gone, and all was quiet. I strained my eyes
across the valley to where the great wall of the
Temple rose in the darkness, and beyond the wall,
in the Courts of the Temple, I saw lights appear
one by one and move to and fro as if carried by
men. There came a glare of torches, and of a
sudden the lights went out and in a moment came
again, this time with the wall behind them. They
had passed the gate.
A step sounded near by, and Jesus stood beside
me, tall in the dim light.
"See," he said, "they are coming out to take
me. Let us be going." And then he said,
"This will be farewell," and he kissed me and
led the way down the mountain, and I, dazed,
followed him.
Near the bottom of the garden, in a dip of the
hill, we found Peter and James and John asleep,
and Jesus waked them.
"I would you could sleep on and take your
rest," he said. "But the hour has come and Judas
is at hand."
The clatter of armed men rose from the steep
valley, and the lights disappeared in the hollow
where the brook Kedron ran. Jesus went for-

192 By an Unknown Disciple
ward down the narrow path, and we went after
him. He stopped in a place where the olive trees
thinned, and we stood round him. In a moment
the lights appeared again, held high, to let the
men see their steps. The glare of the torches lit
up the face of the foremost man, and showed him
to be one of the officers of the Temple. Close be
hind came Judas Iscariot. The officer, seeing us
waiting, paused in uncertainty, and made a step
towards James, but Judas muttered, "No, not
him," and coming up to Jesus stooped and took
his hand as if to kiss it. Jesus laid his hand on
his arm, and looked him in the eyes. Then he
leant forward and kissed Judas on the cheek.
"Friend," he said, "do what you have come
for." Then the men came and took hold of Jesus and
held him firmly, and at that Peter, excited, thrust
forward with a great sword in his hand. But
Jesus said sternly,
"Put up that sword, Peter. Have I not told
you that they that trust to the sword shall perish
by the sword?"
At his rebuke Peter fell back, and Jesus said
to the officers of the Temple,
"Why have you come out with swords and
staves to take me as if I were a robber? Have I

By an Unknown Disciple 193
not taught openly day by day in the Temple, and
yet you did not arrest me?"
The men did not answer, and Jesus said no
more, but went with them down the hill, and
Peter and I followed. But Judas stayed behind
in the olive garden.

XVIII
TIE men led Jesus by way of the path out
side the south wall to the house of the High
Priest on Mount Zion. It was past midnight.
Balilla, the woman who kept the gate, opened it,
and the men brought Jesus into the courtyard. I
spoke to her (for she knew me), and she let me
follow with Peter. When we were inside the
gate the men began to debate whether it was
Annas or Caiaphas for whom they had to ask, and
one said where was Judas Iscariot, who knew. But
Judas was not there, so they agreed to ask for
the High Priest only and leave it to the servants
to decide between Annas and Caiaphas. Then
they took Jesus across the courtyard to the door
of the house where they were told that the High
Priest slept.
"We had orders to bring this man before him,"
said the Chief of the Temple officials.
"Wait, then, till I rouse the High Priest," said
the servant, and the men took Jesus apart into
a corner of the courtyard where they guarded
him so that none could come to speech of him.
194

By an Unknown Disciple 195
The servants of the High Priest came out from
the house to stare at Jesus and to ask curious
questions of the men, and soon there came a cry
from the doorway that Annas waited within, and
the men hastily rose and led Jesus inside, and as
many of us as could crowded after him.
Annas sat in the inner-room. The men led
Jesus before him and stationed him there with
the Temple officials on either side of him. The
High Priest (as some still held him to be) was
old and bent. The skin on his bony hands was
the soft, wrinkled skin of the aged, and his voice
was cracked and wavering. He began to question
the men as to who Jesus was and why they had
taken him, and when they had answered he turned
to Jesus.
"What have you to say for yourself?" he asked.
"You are accused of breaking the law. Have you
any excuse to offer?"
Jesus looked steadily at the old man, and said,
"You know it is against the law for you to ques
tion me thus in private and at this hour. Where
are those who are to witness against me?"
At this Annas fell into a perturbation and
moved his hands uneasily to and fro, playing with
the fringes of his garments, as if he did not know
what to do. The men seeing his hesitation looked
one at another as if they, too, were disturbed.

196 By an Unknown Disciple 
Annas had all his life carried out the law, and the
Temple officials had obeyed his orders and they
knew that Jesus was in the right. The law for
bade trial for life unless in full daylight, openly
before the Council, and with all those witnesses
present who were to accuse the prisoner.
At last Annas said,
"I do not know about this business, for Caia
phas has it in hand. He ought to have been
brought before Caiaphas."
There was a note of complaint in his voice,
and growing more certain as he saw a way out of
his difficulty, he said with decision,
"Yes. Take him to Caiaphas." And then as
the men turned to lead Jesus away, he added,
"It would be better to bind him lest he escape.
Bind him now and take him away."
Some one brought a cord and the men bound
Jesus. Then, making obeisance to Annas, they
led Jesus to the Hall of Caiaphas, where the
Council sometimes met, and which adjoined the
house of the High Priest. Here we waited. And
in a short time Caiaphas entered and took his seat
at the head of the room. His mien was that of
a man who has made up his mind, and his voice
was hard and determined as he called for the
prisoner to be led forward. The men brought

 By an Unknown Disciple 197
Jesus forward alertly as if the certainty in the
mien of Caiaphas gave them security also. — ,
Caiaphas fixed his hawk's eyes on Jesus, and
looked him up and down, examining the disorder
of his clothing where the rope bound his arms
tightly to his sides. Then he said,
"You are called Jesus of Nazareth, I believe?"
and Jesus answered,
"I am he."
Caiaphas went on.
"You claim to be a prophet and to have a mes
sage for the world? And you alone? Where are
your followers?"
Jesus did not reply. His eyes met those of the
High Priest gravely and sadly, but he made no
answer, and Caiaphas, irritated, demanded,
"Are you aware that you are here to answer
with your life for the harm that you have done?
Do you refuse to reply when I question you as to
your teaching?"
Jesus answered gently,
"I never taught in secret. I spoke openly to
all the world. I taught always in public places,
in the synagogues, and in the Courts of the Temple
where the Jews meet daily."
There came a certain sternness into his voice,
and he asked,
"Why do you question me? It is illegal. Ask

198 By an Unknown Disciple
those who heard me teach. They know what I
said." A great anger flamed into the face of Caiaphas
and he half rose from his seat. Seeing this,; one
of the officials raised his hand and stmck Jesus a
blow on the mouth.
"How dare you answer the High Priest so?"
he said.
The blood ran down the face of Jesus and he
could not wipe it off because his arms were bound,
but he answered without resentment,
"If I have taught what is wrong bring witness
to give evidence against me openly before the
Council. If I am right in asking this, why do you
smite me?"
At this Caiaphas fell into a rage, and motion
ing to the men, said grimly,
"Take him away. He shall have his witnesses.
Lead him outside now and guard him, and they
shall -be found and the Council called."
So the men took Jesus into the courtyard and
led him to the corner-seat where they had guarded
him before, and before they had well settled down
again we saw the messengers go forth from Caia
phas. /
"They go for /the witnesses," said one of the
officials, and the others laughed and said that Caia
phas was not one to let the grass grow under his

By an Unknown Disciple 199
feet, and then they called to the servants saying
that the night was cold; so the servants brought
out a brazier and charcoal for a fire at which the
men could warm themselves. They all stood near
Jesus in the firelight and talked, but Jesus sat
silent, his face white, save where the blood had
dried upon it.
"The cheek of him asking for witnesses !" said
one of the men. "You would think he was a great
lord the way he spoke.' And another said,
"Caiaphas will soon show him his place. What
is he but a peasant, no better than us?" And sud
denly one of the men came close to Jesus, and
said, "Why don't you play the prophet if you are a
prophet?" and he winked at one of his companions
who stmck Jesus a quick blow on the back of the
head, and cried out, "Who stmck you? If you
are a prophet tell us."
I started forward, but Balilla, the portress, who
stood beside me, caught me by the arm.
"You will do no good," she whispered. "He is
in their power. You will only make it worse for
him." I saw that it was tme and that I could do noth
ing. I stood with a great bitterness in my soul
and watched while the men tied a kerchief round

200 By an Unknown Disciple
the eyes of Jesus and then played their game, one
after the other buffeting him and calling out,
"Come ! Play the, prophet. Who struck you?"
Now whether it was that time hung heavy on
her hands, or whether for pity for Jesus she wished
to make a diversion I know not, but Balilla began
to question Peter, who sat by the fire, and I heard
him answer in his gmff voice. Soon they fell into
a dispute, and I heard her say,
"But surely you also are one of his followers?"
Peter answered in confusion,
"What do you mean? I don't understand."
And she asked,
"Were you not also with this Jesus, the Gali
lean?" The men, who had grown tired of their game,
now plucked the kerchief from the eyes of Jesus
and pressed round to listen, and one said to Peter,
"Of course you belong to them. You are a
Galilean too. Just listen to your accent."
And Peter hastily replied,
"I am not one of them."
The official who had arrested Jesus came for
ward to stir the fire, and said:
"But I myself saw you in the garden with him."
And at that Peter, cursing, rose and said,
"I tell you I do not even know the man."
The charcoal in the brazier glowing more bright-

By an Unknown Disciple 201
ly for a moment lit up the faces of those round the
fire and fell on the sad eyes of Jesus, who sat
watching Peter. Peter, as if moved by some in
ner force, turned and looked at Jesus. I know
not what passed between them, but suddenly Pete!
put his forearm up as a man does who shields his
eyes from the blinding of the sun, and then he
spun round, and stumbling went across the court
yard. I caught him in the gateway. The light
of the lantern fell on his face as he fumbled with
the latch. From his eyes with their red rims
his soul looked forth as from a prison and the
tears were streaming down his cheeks.
"I boasted," he cried. "And he said I should
forsake him. But I followed, though I was afraid.
You saw for yourself that I followed. And now
I have denied him. Let me go. Let me go. I
must be alone."
So I released him and he went.
By this time it was near daylight, and soon
there came more stir as members of the Council
began to pass through the courtyard, and the mes
sengers returned guarding those who were to wit
ness against Jesus. It was full day when the or
der came to bring Jesus again into the Hall of
Caiaphas. Here Caiaphas was waiting, sitting in the high
seat of the Judge, and ranged in a half-circle on

202 By an Unknown Disciple 
either side of him sat the Council. It was not
the full Council, but only some of the members,
and among them few whom I knew, save Joseph
of Arimathea, who came late and in haste. Jesus
was stood in the place of the prisoner and the wit
nesses were brought forward. Then Caiaphas
rose, and with him rose the members of the Coun
cil, for the oath was to be taken by the witnesses.
The High Priest took the roll of the law from
the official who held it ready, and unrolling it,
he read aloud that great warning to those about
to bear witness.
"Forget not, O witness, that this is a trial for
life. In a money suit, if thy witness be wrong
money may repair that wrong. But in this trial,
if thou sin, the blood of the accused and the blood
of his seed to the end of time shall be imputed to
thee. For a man from one seal may strike off
many impressions and each of them shall be
exactly like the other. But the King of Kings,
the Holy and the Blessed has made the forms of all
men so that no one is wholly like to any other.
Wherefore let us believe that the world was cre
ated for such a man as he whose life now hangs
upon thy words."
The witnesses listened, standing in a little
group. Their eyes wandered as they starred round

By an Unknown Disciple 203
the Hall and one man picked his teeth with a
pin. Caiaphas, having finished this reading, asked
the men if after hearing these words they felt able
to swear, and an official whispering to them, they
stood in more order and repeated one after the
other, "I will nevertheless swear," and prompted by
the official, added,
"By the Lord, the God of Heaven."
Then Caiaphas read aloud,
"Be warned that the oath which you take is
not according to your own mind but to the mind
of God and of this Court. As Moses said, 'Not
with you only do I make this Covenant and this
oath, but with God who standeth here with us
this day.' "
After this the witnesses swore and then they
began to give evidence. But the evidence did not
agree. If one man witnessed that Jesus had said
he was the Messiah, another said No, he said he
was to be King of the Jews, and so they went on,
one saying one thing and the next a different,
till it seemed as if there was no end to their dif
ferences. The brows of Caiaphas knitted them
selves and the members of the Council grew wor
ried, but no progress was made. At last there

204 By an Unknown Disciple
-  — ¦ ¦ ¦-- — -  ¦
came two men who witnessed that they had them
selves heard Jesus speak in the Courts of the
Temple and that he had claimed magical powers,
saying, "I will destroy this Temple made with
hands and in three days I will build another made
without hands."
When the High Priest heard this he said to
Jesus, "What is the meaning of this that these men
witness against you? Do you still answer noth
ing?" But Jesus held his peace, and Joseph of Ari
mathea rose in his place, and spoke, and because
of the respect in which men held him Caiaphas
dare not stop him.
"The prisoner is right in refusing to answer.
The law does not allow such cross-examination.
It leans always to mercy and urges any member
of the Council who can do so to speak in favour
of the accused. Therefore I say that the words
of Jesus were in this wise. That if the Temple
made with hands was pulled down, God could
still be worshipped in the soul of man, a sanctuary
built without hands. For Solomon himself, the
builder of the Temple, said, 'Will God indeed
dwell in this Temple? Behold! the Heaven of
Heavens cannot contain Him, much less this house

By an Unknown Disciple 205
that I have builded.' Jesus taught that there is
that which is greater than any Temple, and that
God asks men to give mercy not sacrifices. I main
tain that these wimesses misunderstood, and that
as no two testimonies agree together the Prisoner
must be dismissed."
At this Caiaphas was seized with passion, and
casting all law aside he sprang to his feet and
cried out to Jesus,
"I adjure you by the name of the Most High
that you tell us whether you are the Messiah, the
Son of the Blessed?"
And Jesus answered,
"If I tell you you will not believe me. Nor if
I question you in my own defence will you re
lease me."
Then Caiaphas called out,
"Are you the Son of God?"
And Jesus said,
"You say that I am."
Caiaphas caught his outer garment and tore it
straight from throat to hem, crying out to the
Council, "He has spoken blasphemy. What further
need is there for wimesses? Behold! you have
all heard him. What think you? Is he worthy
of death?"
The members of the Council rose to their feet,

206 By an Unknown Disciple
and Caiaphas in haste turned to the right and put
the question to the first man,
"For death or for life?" And the man an
swered, "For death."
And so they all replied, save Joseph of Ari
¬mathea, who answered,
"For life."
Then the whole company of them rose up and
brought Jesus to Pilate.

XIX
JERUSALEM was awake when Caiaphas and
the Council went forth from the courtyard
with Jesus. The people seeing the High Priest
and a prisoner guarded by the officials of the Tem
ple were curious to know what had happened, and
many of them followed us to the Praitorium. The
Romans had made their Government House of
the palace that Herod had built for himself on
the north-west hill, and here, protected by the
city walls and by its three great towers, in the
midst of gardens and groves and courts, Pilate
lodged when he was in Jemsalem. On the lowest
terrace of the hill, below the banqueting halls
and colonnades of the Palace, was the Roman
Tribunal. A row of broad, shallow steps led from
the Place to its wide portico, and Caiaphas halted
almost under the shadow of the marble pillars.
At his order one of the servants of the Temple
called aloud, and in answer a Roman soldier came
out of the Tribunal into the portico and stood
looking down on us. The bare knees that showed
beneath his kilted petticoat and the beardless face
207

208 By an Unknown Disciple
under the shining helmet marked him as of
another race than ours, and there was some inso
lence in the way he glanced up and down our
ranks, and seeing Jesus bound called out "Bring
the prisoner into the Judgment Hall. My lord
Pilate is at work within."
The official of the Temple answered, "We can
not enter the Judgment Hall. It is the Eve of
the Passover and we should be defiled."
The soldier, puzzled, looked for a moment as
if he were about to laugh, and at that Caiaphas
himself stepped forward and said peremptorily,
"Tell the Procurator that the High Priest waits
without." Whereupon the manner of the soldier changed,
and he turned swiftly and went within.
The people had thronged behind us and the
Place was now full, but there was silence save
for the sound of their movements as we waited for
Pilate. Soon we heard the ring of steps on the
marble pavement and the Roman guard marched
out and ranged itself. Then Pilate came forth
from the Judgment Hall. The guard saluted as
he passed into the portico, but there was no an
swering cheer from the crowd. Even when he
came forward and stood on the top of the steps
the hostile throng before him was silent.
Pilate was in his soldier's dress but bare headed.

By an Unknown Disciple 209
His short, black hair and shaven face with its
keen eyes showed that he, too, like the soldier
was of another and more masterful breed than
the Jews. As his eyes searched our faces there
was no insolence in his gaze, but neither was there
any friendliness. It was the cool scrutiny of a
conqueror weighing the force of the conquered.
When he caught sight of Caiaphas he greeted him
with courtesy, and the High Priest returned the
greeting, saying
"It is the Eve of the Passover, Pilate. We can
not enter the Palace."
"It was for that reason I came out. I know
your customs," said Pilate.
"We have brought a prisoner to you for judg
ment," said Caiaphas.
"Is not judgment also forbidden you on the eve
of your feasts?" Pilate asked.
"This is a special case," Caiaphas said harshly,
and Pilate answered urbanely,
"That is for you to decide," and he gave orders
that the judgment seat be brought, and when the
soldiers had brought it from the Judgment Hall
and placed it in the portico in sight of all the peo
ple, he took his seat. Then commanding silence
(for before he was well seated the Priests had be
gun to accuse Jesus) the Procurator ordered the
officials of the Temple to bring Jesus forward to

210 By an Unknown Disciple
where he could face his accusers. The men cleared
a space and Jesus came forward. He showed no
sign of fear, nor was his bearing that of one who
pleads. His face was tranquil and his eyes calm.
Pilate watched him for a moment with interest,
and then he turned to the High Priest and Rulers
and, intent on the business in hand, asked form-
ally, "What accusation do you bring against this
man?" Caiaphas replied sharply, "If he were not a
criminal we should not have brought him to you.
He has spoken blasphemy."
Pilate looked at the High Priest coldly.
"Why then do you not take him yourselves and
judge him according to your own laws? You have
the power."
The High Priest answered,
"It is a capital charge and we have no power
to put him to death."
"Of what do you accuse him?" Pilate again
asked. "He says he is our Messiah, the Son of the
Blessed," said the High Priest.
Pilate shrugged his shoulders.
"I have told you that that is not a question
for Roman law. You have power to judge your
own heresies."

By an Unknown Disciple 211
At this a turmoil broke out amongst the friends
of the High Priest and they all began to speak at
once, accusing Jesus of every manner of crime,
so that it was impossible to hear clearly even what
accusations they were bringing.
Pilate made an effort to Testore order, but no
man heeded, and so he sat listening contemptu
ously, waiting for the speakers to exhaust them
selves. His eyes wandered to where Jesus stood,
listening also, but without contempt. The in
terest in Pilate's eyes quickened as he looked at
him, and suddenly he turned to the priests and
fiercely commanded them to be silent. Before his
decision the tumult ceased and, when there was
silence, Pilate spoke to Jesus, and there was much
irony in his voice as he asked,
"Do you not hear the number of heresies they
accuse you of? Have you no wish to reply?"
Jesus shook his head but made no other answer,
and Caiaphas stood forth from amongst the priests
and rulers and said,
"It is not for a crime of heresy that we bring
him before you, but for a crime of State."
"Then why did you say it was for blasphemy?"
Pilate asked Caiaphas sternly.
For a moment the hidden enmity between them
leapt into light, but Caiaphas controlled his anger
and said,

"212 By an Unknown Disciple
"He has committed blasphemy against our law,
but we have brought him to you because we
found him preaching sedition against the Em
peror, saying that he himself is our King."
At this Pilate, amazed, turned again to Jesus
and examined him carefully, looking at the dis
order of his garments and the blood and dust
upon his face. Then, half smiling, as if he
doubted whether the accusation was serious, he
said to Caiaphas,
"Do you say that this man claims to be a
King?" and Caiaphas answered, lying,
"He has prevented people paying taxes to the
Emperor and says that he is the King of the
Jews." Again Pilate looked upon Jesus, and Jesus
gravely returned his gaze. Then Pilate said,
"If this is true I will question him inside the
Judgment Hall." And rising he called the cen
turion in charge of the guard and told him to
bring Jesus within. So the officers of the Temple
handed Jesus over to the soldiers and he passed
from the power of the priests to that of the Ro
man Emperor.
I went into the Hall behind the soldiers and
saw Pilate take his seat. He commanded the
centurion to loose Jesus, and when this was done
and Jesus stood free before him, Pilate said,

By an Unknown Disciple 213
"Are you the King of the Jews?"
Jesus was silent. His eyes were bent on Pilate
consideringly, and he scanned his face questioning
the Procurator as to what manner of man he was.
Pilate waited a moment and then asked with
curiosity, "Do you refuse to answer me also? Do
you not know that I have power to release you
and power to put you to death?"
Jesus answered gently,
"You would have no power whatever over me
if it had not been given you by God."
"Is it true that you claim to be the King of
the Jews?" Pilate persisted, and Jesus asked,
"Do you mean what the Priests do, or are you
speaking as a Roman?"
"Am I a Jew?" Pilate replied scornfully.
"Your own nation and your Chief Priest have de
livered you to me. What have you done?"
Then Jesus answered straightly,
"My kingdom is not of this earth. If it had
been my servants -would have fought for my de
liverance. But my kingly power was not given
me by this world."
Pilate leant forward.
"Then you are a king?" he said, and Jesus
smiling answered sadly,
"You say that I am King, and it is true. But
it is not as this world reckons kingship. Every

214 By an Unknown Disciple
one who loves the tmth is of my kingdom. For
one end only was I born, for that only have I
come, that I might testify to the truth."
Pilate's eyes were fixed on the face of Jesus
and for a while some manner of understanding
seemed to grow in him, for he said half impa
tiently, half wistfully,
"What is the tmth?" Then, with a shrug of
the shoulders, not waiting for a reply, he rose,
saying: "Tmth is like your kingdom. It is not on
this earth." And leaving Jesus he went alone into
the portico and stood before the waiting priests
and the silent hostile crowd, and called out, with
decision, "I find no crime in this man,"
When the priests and rulers heard, they broke
out into tumult greater than before, and the
crowd following their leaders shouted also, for
though many of them had never seen Jesus before
and did not care what happened to him, they were
all against the Roman Governor. Pilate waited,
listening to the uproar, and when there came a lull
he said again,
"There is no crime in him."
Caiaphas answered boldly,
"You are mistaken, Pilate. The man may have
imposed himself on you, but he is a dangerous
rebel. He is preaching sedition all over Judea.

By an Unknown Disciple 215
It is a serious matter and there will be trouble
if you do not take him in hand."
Pilate listened with a frown and then asked,
shrewdly, "Why should I slay him for you?"
"Because you have taken away our power and
we cannot slay him ourselves," said Caiaphas,
bitterly. And at that the people burst into such
a roar of applause that even Pilate was startled.
When the roar died away he said impatiently,
"The man is only a dreamer. Why slay him at
all?" And Caiaphas in a loud voice answered (for he
wished the people to hear, seeing that by their
help he might overbear Pilate),
"Jesus may be a dreamer, but he is a dangerous
one. He has come here to raise Judea. He began
in Galilee and all the people followed him there."
Pilate interrupted him.
"Is Jesus a Galilean?" he asked quickly.
"He comes from Nazareth, a village of Gali
lee," said the High Priest.
"Then he is subject to Herod Antipas. Herod
is in Jemsalem now. I will send Jesus to him.
He shall decide his fate," said Pilate triumphant
ly, and regardless of the anger of the Priests he
called for Longinus the centurion, and for a clerk
to explain the matter to Herod. The centurion,
forming his men, placed Jesus in their midst, and

216 By an Unknown Disciple
the cohort plunged into the crowd, ploughing a
way for itself. The people surging on either side
closed up behind the soldiers, and Pilate turned
to say farewell to Caiaphas. The Priest, his eyes
full of suspicion, detained him, saying, "Herod
will never dare pass sentence of death in Jerusa
lem, the Capital of the Roman dominion. He fears
the Emperor. Was it for that you sent Jesus?"
"It may be so," Pilate answered lightly, look
ing down on him from the steps.
Then Caiaphas, heedless of courtesy, threatened
Pilate. "Herod will send him back to you. You
must judge him. If you release him you are no
friend to Caesar."
"I am no friend to government by priests,"
said Pilate coldly. And Caiaphas answered an
grily: "What will Rome say to the freeing of rebels
if the Provinces rise? Will Cffisar balance be
tween priest and soldier? I tell you, Pilate, if
you slay this man you will so crush sedition that
it will never again dare to raise its head in Judea."
Pilate paused and looked at Caiaphas. There
was mockery on his lips as if he marvelled at the
Priest's ignorance of the arts of government.
Then, scoffing, he said, "The death of one Jew?
Will that end sedition?" And he turned on his
heel and went into the Government House.

XX
IT was as Caiaphas predicted. Herod, who
lodged in the Old Palace near the Temple,
was flattered because Pilate had remitted the case
of Jesus to him, but he made no attempt at judg
ment. The Priests and Rulers (for we all went
into the Palace at the tail of the soldiers) ac
cused Jesus violently, but Herod was too much
interested in marvels to listen to them. His cu
riosity was gratified at the sight of Jesus and he
asked him many questions, hoping to stir him to
work a miracle, but Jesus was silent before him.
Then Herod grew flippant, and hearing from Pi
late's clerk that Jesus claimed to be King of the
Jews, he sent for a gorgeous old robe and dressed
Jesus in it, mocking him, and amid much laughter
ordered the king to be sent back to Pilate.
So the centurion brought Jesus back to the Pra>
torium. The Place was again packed with people
and again Pilate came out to the portico. He
called the Priests and Rulers and the leading men
in the crowd to the front and there addressed them
reasonably, saying, 217

218 By an Unknown Disciple
"You brought this man before me charged with
misleading your people, but when I examined him
I found no ground for the accusations brought
against him. Nor does Herod find him to blame,
for you see he has sent him back to me. Jesus
has done nothing deserving death. I will there
fore give him a slight punishment and release
him." But the whole multitude burst into a shout,
"Away with this man!" they cried. "If you
release any, release Barabbas."
Pilate called out,
"Barabbas is a robber, but what harm has Jesus
done?" The mob would not listen, but with one accord
cried out, "Crucify him ! Crucify him !"
Pilate could not make his voice heard above,
the uproar. He stood patient outwardly, but with
an ugly look in his eyes, and when at last the
noise died away he said, with a bitter sneer,
"Would you have me crucify your king?"
And at that the uproar burst out worse than
before, men crying in fury,
"We will not have him as our king. Release
to us Barabbas !"
Pilate, seeing the demon that he had raised,
controlled his anger and made an attempt to re
turn to reason, saying, "I know it is your custom

By an Unknown Disciple 219
to have a man released at your Festival. There
is nothing in Jesus that deserves death. I will
therefore scourge him and set him free."
But the mob would not have it so. The voice
of Caiaphas cried high above the clamour,
"Any man who sets himself up as king is a
rebel against Csesar." And the mob took this up
with a great shout.
"We want no king but Csesar!"
Then Pilate, enraged, ordered Jesus to be
brought into the portico, and Jesus, dressed in
Herod's old robe, with his face covered with dust
and blood, came forward and stood before the
people. He was very tired, for he had been on
his feet for hours, and the sight of his white face
nearly broke my heart. Pilate looked at him in
pity and, turning with contempt to the mob, said
savagely, "Behold your King!"
There was a storm of outcries and the mob,
furious at Pilate's contempt of them, raged and
yelled, "Away with him! He is not our king.
Crucify him! Crucify him!"
The tumult was beyond control. The guard
moved nearer Pilate, but he waved them back
and spoke to an attendant, and the man went
and quickly returned bearing a silver bowl and
a towel. At Pilate's command he held these up

220 By an Unknown Disciple
and the mob, marvelling, fell into silence. Then
Pilate, in sight of all the multitude, washed and
dried his hands and throwing the towel aside
stepped forward and said to the crowd,
"I am innocent of the blood of this just man.
See you to it !"
And with loud shouts of triumph the people
replied, "His blood be on us and on our children."
The judgment seat was brought out again and
s^taking his seat Pilate delivered Jesus to death.
The centurion, whose duty it was to see the pris
oners crucified, asked for the accusation that was
put over the heads of the crucified, and the clerk
brought Pilate's tablets, and he wrote. The
Priests crowded round to see what he had written,
and Pilate in scorn read to them his writing,
"Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews."
Caiaphas remonstrated, saying:
"There is no accusation. People will not un
derstand. Do not write 'King of the Jews,' but
'He said I am King of the Jews.' "
But Pilate refused, saying bitterly, "What I
have written I have written."
He ordered the centurion to have it so tran
scribed on the Titulus, and then he gave orders
for Barabbas to be released, and went away, and

By an Unknown Disciple 221
the centurion and his soldiers took Jesus and led
him to the Roman barracks in the Tower of An-
tonia, which was north of the buildings of the
Temple.

XXI
IT was in the barrack yard of the Antonio, high
above the city and Temple that Jesus was
scourged by the Romans. They brought him from
the Government House up the steep gangway and
through the gate in the thick wall. The day was
young when he climbed the steps and, still in
Herod's old robe, went into the Fortress. The
centurion left him here in charge of the soldiers,
for he had to prepare the Titulus and rumour
said that there were others to be crucified, and
that the bars of the crosses had to be made ready.
A few civilians came up the steps into the court
yard, but for the most part, the Jews afraid of
defilement lingered on the stairways, or in the
streets below. I waited inside the great gateway
from which one could see right over the courts of
the Temple and over the roofs and towers of the
city beyond.
The soldiers off duty, who had been lounging
against the walls of the barracks, pressed round
their comrades of the cohort asking for news of
the tumult in the city. -

By an Unknown Disciple 223
"Is there going to be a row?" they said. "These
Jews are always asking for trouble. They want
to set up a king, do they? The more of them
we cmcify the better."
The soldiers were of many races for Pilate had
only two mixed legions in Judea, but they were
at one in their contempt for the people they ruled.
Jesus stood in their midst alone, and suddenly,
a big Northerner caught him by the arm and
swung him round.
"Is this the cause of the row?" he questioned.
. "A scurvy king for a scurvy people."
He snatched the red military cloak from the
shoulders of a comrade and flung it round Jesus.
"There! He looks more like a king now," he
cried. The others laughed at the joke, and one called
out, "Where is his throne?"
A broken piece of a great marble pillar lay by
the wall, and some of the soldiers ran to it and
rolled it out into the courtyard and set it on end,
and the men who guarded Jesus pushed him for
ward and told him to be seated.
"He will need a crown," said the Northerner
pulling the cloak into place.
"I'll get him one. I saw some faggots by the
kitchen," another cried and ran, speedily return-

224 By an Unknown Disciple
¦>—' " '¦¦" ¦!!¦¦¦¦ ' ¦ ¦¦-¦ I I — - in II I I II ¦ I
ing with an armful of the sharp thorns used for
kindling fires. These the Northerner plaited into
a crown which he thrust on to the head of Jesus.
At the sight the soldiers burst into roars of laugh
ter, and led by the Northerner, they began to pay
Jesus mock honour, bowing low and bending the
knee before him, crying out,
"Hail! King of the Jews!"
Jesus did not flinch. The blood trickled down
his face from where the thorns had torn him, but
he made no protest.
It was then that Longinus, the centurion, passed
through the courtyard and stopped for a moment
to watch the play of the soldiers. There was a
carpenter with him who carried a long measuring
reed, for they had been measuring the bars of the
crosses, and Longinus, looking with a fatherly eye
at the game of his men, said,
"You want a sceptre," and he took the rod
from the carpenter and thrust it into the hand of
Jesus. Jesus took it from him with courtesy
and a word of thanks, and the centurion in as
tonishment fell back with an oath. The soldiers
paused in their cruel game. Jesus sitting erect
in the military cloak looked around on them, and
in his weariness and bravery there was a simplic
ity that pierced even those hardened men. They

By an Unknown Disciple 225
fell silent and Longinus, too, mocked no more,
but said,
"Perhaps, boys, that's enough. We'd better
get on with the scourging. I'll release the other/
men," and he went away. The soldiers on duty
came forward and took the red cloak from Jesus.
Then they stripped him to the loin-cloth and
piled his clothes on the pillar. By this time Lon
ginus had returned with the two other condemned
men. One of them fought and struggled, and the
soldiers had to drag him along. When they be
gan to strip him he bit and tore and it took several
men to overpower him. The other walked quietly
to his place beside Jesus and submitted to be
stripped without a movement. His body looked
woefully thin when the soldiers took his rags from
him, and suddenly he said reproachfully to them,
"It was for hunger I stole. Will you crucify
me for that?"
The soldiers were taken aback, and one of them
said, gruffly,
"It is not our fault. Orders must be obeyed."
The man was silenced, but when he saw a sol
dier come out of the barracks carrying a new
leathern scourge with rough pieces of lead tied in
every thong, a wild fear leapt into his eyes, and
his starved body twitched all over in terror.

226 By an Unknown Disciple
"I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it !" he cried
aloud. Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him,
saying, "It is but a part of the sorrow of all the world.
Let us bear it bravely. It is for God."
The man, hearing a beautiful voice, turned in
astonishment, and when he saw the face of Jesus
so worn and blood-stained his eyes suddenly filled
with tears and he said,
"You have had your own bad time, brother."
But the other prisoner who had heard said
savagely to Jesus,
"You think yourself great, don't you? I've
heard of your setting yourself up to be king. You
ought to be crucified, but what have we done to
deserve it?"
At this Longinus cried out for silence and or
dered the soldiers to lead them away into the
inner court where the scourging pillars stood.
' I did not see Jesus scourged. I could not bear
it. I went down the gangway and into the courts
of the Temple. My soul was numb. There was
no feeling left in me, though I saw each object
with such distinctness that the polished slabs on
the walls of the Antonia up which no assault was
possible, the graded stairway with its stone trav
erses to keep the feet from slipping, and the great

 By an Unknown Disciple 227
flags of the pavement that I sat looking down on,
live in my mind to this day. I was still in this
palsy when I saw Judas come across the Court.
He did not seem real to me, but like a figure seen
in a dream, but, nevertheless, I called out,
"Judas! Is that you?"
He came nearer and I, still in a dream, said
"What is it, Judas? You look like death."
At that Judas came close to me and cried out,
bitterly, "Oh, man, can you not see what has happened
to me? A door has opened in me and I have
seen my own soul. What is there left for me but
death? I have told them, yea, in their very sanc
tuary, that I have sinned, but they do not care.
It is not their business they said. No one cares
save Jesus, and I have sent him to his death. He
trusted me, even though he knew I should betray
him he risked his life and trusted, and I did be
tray him."
He sat down beside me. His dark eyes were
full of pain and like a bewildered child he put
his hand on my arm.
"That I should have done this to him when I
love him. It was for him I would have fought."
His tone changed and he said pettishly,
"I tell you man I miss him. His face is al
ways before me and the kindness in his eyes."

228 By an Unknown Disciple
I held him by the sleeve and fingered it.
"They would have taken him anyhow," I said
to console him.
"But not through me," he cried, uncomforted.
I stared at him for I felt his wits had fled. It
seemed so strange that he could feel so much.
"Jesus would forgive you," I said dully, and
at that he turned on me in agony and cried,
"That is why I must die. I thought he didn't
care, but he cares more than I. I thought he had
no passion and I have seen him in the midst of it.
What is there left for me but death?" and he tore
his garment from me and went.
And then suddenly my palsy left me and I
could feel again. These things were really hap
pening. Jesus would soon be dead. Judas was
about to die, too, but my one thought was to see
Jesus. Rising, distracted I ran back to the steep
stairway to the Antonia and passing through the
groups of waiting people I climbed rapidly to the
gateway and entered the courtyard.
* The soldiers were bringing Jesus out from the
inner yard. They had dressed him in his own
clothes again, and two of them held him by the
arms, supporting him. The Titulus that hung
round his neck said in large white letters, "Jesus
of Nazareth, King of the Jews."
The thieves came behind. Their scourging had

By an Unknown Disciple 229
been lighter, for they could walk without help.
They, too, had their inscriptions proclaiming their
names, Gesmas and Dysmas, and for what faults
they died. In the middle of the courtyard the
carpenter stood ready with nails and a hammer,
and a ladder and three heavy bars of wood lay on
the ground. Several rough men waited in a cor
ner and when the centurion called out asking if
there were any mates of the prisoners present who
would bear their cross-bars, two of them came
forward and took up the bars of Gesmas and
Dysmas. But Jesus had no mate. The centurion
would not give me leave to carry the bar, saying
he dare not as I was a patrician and he had seen
me with Pilate. So Jesus steadied himself, hold
ing by the hand of a soldier, and the heavy bar
was laid on his back where his tunic covered the
marks of the scourging. Then the centurion's
guard formed in front and behind the prisoners,
and the carpenter came too, with his ladder and
nails, and they all moved forward out of the gate
and down the stairway. The crowd that stood be
low looked up in excitement and came closer to
see all. Some women, whose veils hid their faces,
were waiting and followed in a little group. Ges
mas, the man who had fought the soldiers, walked
in front, boasting that he was not afraid to die,
but Dysmas who came behind did not speak. His

230 By an Unknown Disciple
eyes were fixed on Jesus watching every move
ment. The sun was hof, and the sweat poured
down the face of Jesus and he swayed now and
then under the weight of the cross. A depression
had fallen on the soldiers and they marched in
silence, and as if reluctantly. When some paces
up the street, beyond the stairway, Jesus stumbled
and lurched heavily and Dysmas called out sharp
ly, "He's not strong enough to carry it" ; he was
not rebuked, but Longinus halted the column and
himself adjusted the heavy bar so that it set more
easily on the shoulders of Jesus, asking him if that
felt better. Jesus thanked him and they started
again. A few yards further on Jesus reeled and fell.
"Can't you see he's done?" Dysmas cried out,
and again no man rebuked him, but the column
halted of itself and Longinus and a soldier lifted
the heavy bar from the body of Jesus and raised
him up.
» The women who followed were weeping, and
one of them plucked the veil from her head and
rushed forward. She held out a comer of her veil
to a water carrier who stood by, and he sluiced it
with fresh water from his goat-skin and she ten
derly wiped the blood and sweat from the face of
Jesus reviving him so that he opened his eyes and

 By an Unknown Disciple 231
smiled. At the sight the women broke into wails
and beat their breasts.
Jesus said to Longinus,
"My spirit is willing, but my body is weak."
Then he turned to the women and said,
"Do not weep for me, women of Jerusalem.
Weep for yourselves and for your children. A
time is coming when only the barren will be happy
and those who have never bome children. The
spirit of this world that is killing me will also
lay hands upon you. They that rule by the sword
will not spare women and children."
He rocked on his feet as he spoke, and Longinus
looked round for help.
Beside me stood a big negro who carried two
market baskets full of vegetables. His black face
and his blood-streaked eyes shone with pity, and
when Longinus called to him he stepped forward
willingly, but remembering his baskets he paused
and looked hesitatingly at me. I took the baskets
from him and he went and lifted up the cross-bar
as if it were a toy, and the soldiers, steadying
Jesus, we went on through the narrow streets and
out by the Damascus gate.
Three posts stood ready by the roadside on a
hillock where all men could see. The prisoners
were offered drugged wine but Jesus would not
take it. So stripping him again to the loin-cloth,

232 By an Unknown Disciple
they laid him on the ground and stretching out
his arms, they bound them with rope to the cross
bar and nailed his hands to the wood. Then they
brought him to the foot of the post and a man
on the ladder hauling with a rope and others below
lifting, they hoisted the cross-bar, with the body
of Jesus, till it jarred into the socket prepared.
Then they tied it securely. Afterwards they did
the same to the two thieves. When this was done
they threw the clothing of the prisoners into a
heap and diced for it. Then the guard divided
and half returned to the barracks and half under
Longinus remained to watch.
Simon stood beside me with his market baskets.
The tears rolled down his black cheeks, and from
time to time he wiped them off with the back of
,his hand.
But the mob that lingered looking on the agony
of the crucified had no pity, and the travellers on
the Damascus road who stopped to see, and the
leading men of the city, sneered at Jesus and said,
"He wanted to save others. Let him save him
self if he is the Son of God."
They called out to Jesus, mocking him, "If
you are God's son come down from the cross."
"You that trusted in God get God to deliver you
now. Come down from the cross and we will be
lieve in you."

 By an Unknown Disciple 233
And reading the Titulus they said,
"Where is your kingdom now, you King of the
Jews?" I felt as if the point of a sharp sword had been
broken off inside my heart. How could they mock
at Jesus in his pain? How could men watch with
curious eyes to see how much the thieves could
suffer? A blackness fell upon me and though the
sun still shone I could not see the light. Surely
human nature was cruel to the bone?
Gesmas had writhed his body upwards, so loos
ening the ropes that by tearing his palms with the
nails in them he could get one elbow over the
cross-bar. He was drugged and half drunk and
he cried out to Jesus.
"Can't you see how we suffer? If you are the
son of God take us down from these crosses. Save
us and yourself." His elbow slipped and in his
torment his voice broke and he began to curse
and to swear, reviling Jesus and blaming him for
the pain.
Dysmas who hung to the right had turned his
head so that he could see the face of Jesus and he
said to Gesmas, "What has this man done to you
that you curse him so? They have some excuse
for torturing us for we have broken their laws,
but he has done nothing."
Then he said to Jesus,

234 By an Unknown Disciple
"Do not forget me when you come into your
kingdom ?"
And Jesus, his face drawn with pain, but his
voice still kind, answered,
"This very day when this pain is over, we shall
be together again." And the man, comforted,
set his lips to endure to the end.
When I saw this, shame came upon me and an
agony of remorse. For all my life I had seen such
sights and had taken for granted that such men
were worthy of death. Why, all Judea was dotted
with crosses and on them men had died. In every
country of the world such deaths were inflicted
by those in power. Since the beginning of time
it had been so. Man had always tortured man.
Because of my neglect these things had been. I
had agreed that that should be which need not
have been. The anguish that man gives to men
was my fault too. But Jesus had not been blind.
He had seen the pain of man and had raised his
voice against the cruelty showing men the remedy.
His message would have saved the world from
such horrors. God spoke through him for his
nature was greater than ours. But the great en
gine of government had caught Jesus and he was
dying, and I was his murderer and the murderer
of the men who died with him. Because of my

 By an Unknown Disciple  235
blindness my friend must die. I turned my face
aside and wept. v!
/ As the day drew on a certain awe seemed to fall
upon the crowd, and the mockers went and few
were left save friends of Jesus. The depression
still held the soldiers. They had nailed the pris
oners to the cross as a part of their day's work,
but they had worked in silence, and now they did
not hinder the lovers of Jesus from drawing near.
Mary the Mother of Jesus, and Mary of Magdala
and the other women came and stood close to the
crosses and no man ordered them away. Jesus
opened his eyes and saw his mother standing there
and John, who had come up behind the women.
He called out the name of John, who came closer
and Jesus said,
"You will take care of her, John?" and John,
choked with tears, put his arm round the shoulders
of Mary.
Jesus said to his mother,
"He will be your son." His lips were parched
and he spoke with difficulty. His eyes closed
again. The women wept aloud, and Longinus
taking a pike from one of the soldiers, tore a hand
ful of hyssop from a bush growing near by and
steeped it in a bowl of the soldiers' wine and ty
ing it on the pike moistened the lips of Jesus.
Jesus opened his eyes and smiled in thanks.

236 By an Unknown Disciple
"He will not last long," said Longinus to the
women to comfort them. "These others are
stronger. They have hours of this before them.
We soldiers have heavy work to do sometimes."
The hot sun beat down upon the heads of the
crucified and their limbs were swelling where the
ropes tied them. Gesmas still writhed and mut
tered, but even his strength was failing. Dysmas
hung half fainting with his long anguish. Jesus
moved his head uneasily against the hard wood
of the cross as a sick man moves his head on a
hot pillow. I hid my eyes from their dying faces,
for a great reverence came upon me and who was
I to gaze upon their agony ?
A thunderstorm was blowing up from the moun
tains and the clouds hid the sun. The women
stood praying for Jesus and for the thieves, and
the centurion leaned on the pike and was silent.
Simon and the soldiers were silent too. For a long
time we stayed thus.
, Suddenly Jesus opened his eyes and gave a loud
cry. The gladness in his voice startled all who
heard, for it seemed a shout of victory.
"It is finished," he cried. "Father, into thy
hands I commit my spirit."
And with that cry he died.
The centurion turning away in awe gave the
pike back to the soldier from whom he had bor-

By an Unknown Disciple 237
rowed it. He stood silent for a moment and then
he said,
"Truly, this man was a son of God."
And Simon the negro with a sob gathered up
his baskets and went back into the city, but the
women, weeping bitterly, stayed by the cross.

XXII
JOSEPH OF ARIMATHEA buried the body
of Jesus in his own tomb. He went to Pilate,
who gave him an order to take the body from the
cross. Pilate was astonished that Jesus had died
so soon, and gave the order willingly, and Joseph
and Nicodemus and the women brought spices to
the tomb and did all that our customs enjoin for
the burial of the dead. I went back with Nico
demus to his house, and after that I remember no
more, for something seemed to break in my head
with a great pain, and I lay ill for weeks and knew
no one. The summer was waning before I was
able to go about my business in the north again.
One! the evening before I was to set out for
Galilee, I went to the Garden of Gethsemane. I
went by way of the path outside the south wall
along which the Temple officials had led Jesus to
Caiaphas, and I climbed between the olive trees
to where Jesus had stood looking at the sunset. I
stopped close to the dry stone wall where I could
see all Judea spread out before me. The day
had been hot, and a haze hung over the mountains
238

By an Unknown Disciple 239
of Moab and hid their colour. The sun had
scorched the land and there was no glory in it
now. The beauty had gone from the earth.
After a time I turned aside. Why should I
stay there? Life was ugly and barren. There
was no joy left in it. I crossed the open space
where Jesus had gone apart to pray, and passed,
as he had done, between the twisted boughs of
the olives. A narrow track led higher up the
mountain and I followed it until I came to where
the olives ceased, giving place to tall cypresses and
a few forest trees. Was it here that Jesus had
prayed in his agony? What did it matter? He
had been killed in spite of his prayers. What was
the good of loving when death came to end all?
I sat down and leaned my head against one of
the trees of God. Somehow the touch of the wild
tree comforted me. The garden had been planted
by man, the olive trees and the dry stone wall
were man's work, and man was cruel and stupid.
There was no hope in a world ruled by men. But
God had made the forest trees.
I lay there for a long time, quieted, marvelling
at the strong twist in the trunk of a cypress and
the wonder of the grey shadow on its green boughs.
The sun was declining and the heat haze still hid
the distant mountains. An odd snoring noise had
begun somewhere and I listened, half unconscious-

240 By an Unknown Disciple
ly waiting, as each long snore ceased, for the next
to begin. The sound seemed to come from all
around me. It could not be a man for there was
no man near. A vague curiosity stirred me as to
where the noise came from, and soon I rose and
went to see. The sound did not cease at the
crunch of my footsteps. I went towards an old
hollow tree and the snoring grew louder. I
looked up into the tree and saw a small owl sitting
on a branch above my head. It turned a pinched
nose and two dark eyes set in a fluff of pale yellow
down, and regarded me. There was no fear about
it. It moved its head as a kitten does, and there
was a thick wrinkle all down its pale brown neck
where the skin and feathers doubled. For a mo
ment it gazed at me with an indifferent curiosity,
and then it turned its head away and went on
with its snoring. I leant against the tree and
watched it, and something smote me in the heart
with agony that it should be alive, so young and
so quaint, and that Jesus should be dead. It was
a little owl. It had not been alive when Jesus
died. As I stood grappling with my misery, I heard
a gay voice singing and a woman in the blue cloth
ing of a peasant turned the comer of the path
and came towards me. It was Mary Magdalene.
I looked at her in amazement. Were all women

 By an Unknown Disciple 241
heartless as all men were cmel? Jesus was dead
and the world was black to me, but the sunshine
was still golden to her. And she had seemed to
love him.
Mary came nearer and at the sight of my face
her song stopped.
"How can you sing, Mary, when Jesus is
dead?" I said, and turned to go.
But she caught me by the sleeve.
"Jesus is not dead," she cried, and I stopped
short, a wild impossible hope springing upon me.
"What do you mean, Mary? I saw him die."
"And so did I. But I have seen him since,"
she said.
"Seen him? Are you mad?" I said.
She shook her head.
"You have been ill. You have not heard. Sit
down and I will tell you."
( So we sat down at the foot of the tree, and the
v little owl snored above us.
"You must see that something has happened,"
she said. "You cannot think that I could be so
callous. I who loved him more than any. Had
I not more to love him for?"
Her eyes filled with tears, and she put her
hand on my arm.
"We harlots have to fend for ourselves. No
body takes care of us," she said. "Do you know

242 By an Unknown Disciple
what it means to us, amongst whom love is bought
and sold, to have it offered as a gift? Jesus said
God cared. Have I not more to love him for than
you?" I sat silent, ashamed of my suspicion of her.
The impossible hope had died away, and I lis
tened sadly.
"I was broken for days after his death. But
look at me now. Am I the same woman who
stood weeping beneath the cross, hopeless and in
misery?" "What has happened to you, Mary?" I asked.
The dullness had settled on me again and I thought
she raved.
"I have seen Jesus," she said. "At first I
thought it was the gardener. But then I saw
that it was Jesus."
"You were dreaming, Mary. You have de
ceived yourself," I said, but she shook her head
and smiled.
"You think I am a wild woman who cannot tell
tmth from dreams. And I tell you, no, I am not
mad. Look at me and see if it is not true."
I looked at her and indeed she seemed quite
sane, but her talk was mad.
"You think you saw his spirit?" I asked.
"I suppose it was his spirit," she replied. "But
what does it matter what I saw, body or spirit?

 By an Unknown Disciple 243
I saw Jesus alive still, and whereas I was in misery
I am now full of joy."
"You have deceived yourself, Mary," I said
again. And she cried out vehemently.
*Could I be happy if Jesus was really dead, if
he was only a dreamer and his vision of the king
dom impossible ? Others have seen him too. Men
everywhere are asking what has happened to us.
When you see Peter and John again you can
judge for yourself. Peter is altogether changed.
People are asking 'How have these barbarous and
contemptible people suddenly become wise ? Who
has given them this? How have they been in
structed?' Our minds are fervent like a fire that
bums. We cannot be unhappy."
"It is only a dream, Mary," I said dully.
"Would Peter spread the good news with such
fire despising death, for a dream?" she cried.
"They say of him that he was born amongst us,
and grew up with us, and was feeble of under
standing, but that now he is inspired, and men
hear from him things that enrich them and make
life great and noble. Can this be without the
finger of God?"
I threw myself face downwards on the ground.
I could not listen to her talk, for there was no
hope within me, and it broke my heart. Mary
touched me gently on the shoulder and said,

244 By an Unknown Disciple
"It does not matter whether you believe that
I saw Jesus or dreamed. What matters is that
we must spread the news of his kingdom. (^Cannot
a dream alter the face of the world? ; There is a
power within me that forces me to go on, that
makes me want to suffer everything for everybody.
What matter how it came? Shall I not yield to
it? And you, too, when it comes to you?"
And she went away and left me there under the
tree of God.
It was in Galilee, on the mountain where I
had first heard Jesus teach, that hope came back
to me. After a hard day's work I had wandered
away from the village, and climbed the mountain
and sat looking down on the great plain with its
vineyards and olive gardens, and the thin grey
smoke that rose in the air as the women made
ready the evening meal. The voices of the chil
dren driving the cattle home came from the plain,
and far in the distance a cow lowed to her calf
and the sheep baaed to their lambs. Darkness
was falling, but I could not go. The light faded
and blackness covered the land. I bowed my head
on my arms and sat on, too tired for sleep, too
hopeless for pain, too sad for tears. The wild
beasts cried aloud in the night, but I did not move.
All night I sat there, and in the morning came
the dawn.

By an Unknown Disciple 245
> First there came the stillness. No bird cheeped,
no wild beast cried aloud. A faint glimmer of
light showed the dark masses of the forests on
the hills, and the dim silver line of the sea. The
golden light spread and touched the land and
colour awoke again in earth and sky. The sun
came, up behind the mountains and the shadows
lay from east to west along the plain. It was
then that the vision came to me. I saw nothing.
I heard nothing, but as the dawn spread slowly
over the land, waking the earth to beauty, some
thing awoke in my heart. I do not know what it
was. I have no words to tell of it. The earth lay
before me bathed in a light that men seldom saw,
a clear radiance that transfigured each familiar
place and gave the world the beauty of a dream.
And yet it was still the earth. The forests and
moors, the mountains and valleys, were the same,
but another light lay upon them. So it was with
my soul. An intense, still joy awoke in my heart,
a joy in which there was no shadow of restlessness
or disturbance, and the old gay sense of something
added to life came back to me. It seemed as
though Jesus had watched by me all night and I
had not known it. The place was full of his pres
ence. (^Or was it only that the earth was my healer?)
The glory of the vision blinded me, and I hid
my eyes. There was no death. (Each night the

246 By an Unknown Disciple
beauty of the earth died into darkness, each dawn
in wonder the light rose again on it. It was so
with the spirit of man. In tribulation and in agony
happiness died, but in beauty and glory joy lived
again. I rolled over on my face on the coarse
mountain grass and lay there thinking. The
greatest miracle in the world had happened to me.
I had seen the transfiguration in the look of life
that an emotion brings. A remembrance of beauty
and love and immortal passion, the romance of the
earth and of life had taken hold of me. The
smallest, meanest things had gained a power of
signifying the greatest, noblest things. , The world
was full of wonders. Nothing was impossible to
love. { The children had begun to drive the cattle out.
Their shrill cries rose in the air before I stirred.
When I sat up and looked at the earth again it was
broad, garish day. The beauty of the world no
longer caught my breath away. In the bustle of
life my vision must fade, but I did not mind. " I
had seen the eternal beauty that lies hidden in the
commonplace. There was a work to do, and like
Peter and the disciples I must do it, no matter
what the cost. So I rose to my feet to go back
to my village and take up my job again.
THE END