Onesimus: Memoirs of a Disciple of St. Paul

by Edwin Abbott Abbott

§ 5. HOW I LEARNED THAT PAULUS WAS THE PROPHET THAT I HAD SEEN IN MY CHILDHOOD, THE SAME THAT HAD CURED LAME XANTHIAS.

As I was going forth from the chamber with the rest, he that was guarding the prisoner stayed me, questioning me concerning the Emperor’s health, and asking me whether it was likely that the Emperor would hear his case in person to-morrow. I said that it was not unlikely; for though he had not been in good health, yet now that he was wedded to Poppea, she made him give heed to all Jewish matters. “Yea but,” said the guard, “this fellow is no Jew, such as the other Jews, but of a different faction, which they call seditious; and the rest of his people hate him.” “I understand that,” said I, “but whether the Jews love him or hate him, in either case Poppea will be for him or against him; and of that he is like to have experience to-morrow.” Then the soldier began to explain to me the nature of this sect; but I interrupted him, saying that I knew everything concerning them, “having learned their customs at Antioch” and whereas I was always wont to preserve silence about my life in Asia and about everything and every one that had to do therewith, now on the other hand, something I know not what, made me add the words—“and at Colossæ;” and as soon as I had said it I repented of it and hastened to go forth from the chamber. But the prisoner rose up from his couch and, catching me by the cloak, asked whether I had been lately at Colossæ and whether I knew one Philemon, who was a citizen of that place. I said “no;” and he sat down with a sigh, keeping his eyes fixed upon me; and then, as I was going forth, the expression of his features came back to my mind on a sudden and I remembered the hook-nosed prophet who had healed lame Xanthias in years gone by at Lystra, and I could not forbear asking him whether he had ever been in the region of Pamphylia; and he answered “yes,” and when I mentioned Lystra, he said he knew that city and had been there. Then I asked in what year, and he answered in the fourth year, or thereabouts, of the Emperor Claudius. So perceiving that the times agreed, I questioned him further whether he had healed a sick man there, and to make sure, I said one sick of the palsy; but he replied “No, but a lame man, that had been lame many years,” and with that he leaned forward to me as if still desirous to answer and ask further questions.

But at this point the soldier, he I mean to whom the prisoner was chained (for the rest were gone forth) having now laid himself down upon the pallet to sleep, smote the prisoner upon the face with the palm of his hand, saying that it was bad enough that he should lose his seat for the games in the Circus Maximus to-morrow, where the people were even now gathering (and indeed we could hear the noise and shouting of the multitude outside) and that he would not further be cheated of his slumbers by a miserly Jew, who refused to give a single denarius to the soldier that was at the pains of guarding him. Hereat the prisoner began with a cheerful countenance to compose himself to lie down by the side of his keeper, only saying that his friends had been very willing to fee the keeper; but the guard having been that day changed, and he himself being (as it chanced) without money, it was not possible for him to give any fee at that time. But the soldier, nothing moved, struck him twice, yet harder than before, with his fist, bidding him hold his peace and saying, with a curse, that excuses were not denarii.

I know not whether it was the patience and constancy of the prisoner that moved me; or because his presence seemed to carry back my mind to the days of my childhood, reminding me of the pleasant fields and flocks round Lystra, and my brother Chrestus and my old nurse Trophime, and the shepherd Hermas; but, be the cause what it may, certain it is that I was drawn to the man as if bewitched or fascinated, and taking out such money as I had (which was but very little) I gave it to the soldier. At the same time I asked the prisoner whether he had made any attempt to gain the intercession of Titus Annæus Seneca, a great philosopher in those days and the former tutor of the Emperor. “Nay, but the old bookworm has no power in these days with our Emperor,” said the soldier taking my money, “and could no more rein him in now than a butterfly could rein in the dragons of Hecate; besides, if he could, think you that a man of quality, such as the Emperor’s tutor, would regard such scum of the earth as these Christian wretches? However, whatever he be is no business of mine, and money should have money’s worth; so I give you five minutes with the prisoner; but, mark me, no more.”

I felt as one caught in a trap. Twice had I endeavored to depart from the chamber because I desired to avoid speech with this stranger, who knew Colossæ and my master Philemon; and now of my own motion I had so wrought that I must needs have speech with him. So I sat down, and asked the prisoner his name. “My name was once Saul,” he answered, “but I am now called Paulus and I was born in Tarsus.” Hereat I stood up to go at once, but my limbs refused to obey me and I went not, but stood where I was, gaping and staring like one mad; for I seemed to see before me, next to Christus, the bitterest foe of my life; because this Paulus had caused Philemon to be my enemy and by his superstitions had slain my beloved Eucharis. Yet on the other hand it was borne in upon me that here was one that had seen Christus risen from the dead, and I remembered as if it were but fresh in mine ears, his invocation over me in the days of my childhood, “The Lord be unto thee as a Father;” and I felt that however I might endeavor, it was not possible for me to hate this man, nor easy to resist the spirit that was in him, for I was in his presence as one under a spell. So, though my fears bade me depart, the hand of the Lord constrained me to remain. While I thus stood stammering, uttering something perchance but meaning nothing, Paulus interrupted me, taking me by the hand and saying, “I perceive that there is to be more discourse between us; wherefore I will only say this, that this night my prayers shall ascend to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in thy behalf. For the Lord hath need of thee, and verily thou shalt be saved and redeemed from all thy sins. To-morrow, as thou hast heard, I stand before the Emperor; but if (as I doubt not) I receive deliverance from the mouth of the lion, I am to discourse at sun-down concerning the mercies of the Lord Jesus in the house of Tryphæna and Tryphosa, hard by the Capenian gate. Prithee, my benefactor, bestow on me yet another benefit, and promise that thou wilt be there.” “No” was in my heart, but “yes” came from my lips before I knew that I had framed an answer, and I left the chamber as one in a trance.