“However you shall hear how the Romans despatched this business without much delay. Having gladly left these dangerous companions, and hastening up the steep road, we had not gone twenty furlongs before we met a squadron of Roman horse, blocking the road; but after questioning us, they suffered us to pass up to a village named Bethany. We soon came to a winding place in the road, which, being very high up, commanded a view of all the road below. Thence looking down we saw the helmets of the horsemen in an ambush, in a valley on the northern side of the road, and we could hear the multitude (though we saw them not by reason of the winding of the road) with psalms and shouts, and without any order or discipline, coming up the hill; and soon their vanguard (if vanguard it could be called where all was unguarded) would have passed by the mouth of the valley so that the Romans could cleave the rabble in two parts whenever it pleased them. Soon afterwards the trumpet rang echoing through the hills, and anon we saw the helmets and swords all flash together, and then such a crying for mercy, such a shrieking and clamor, as made me stop my ears for horror; and we hastily turned away towards Bethany. But we were still some furlongs distant from the village when the Romans overtook us, their arms and armor all dripping with blood, goading before them many hundreds of captives fettered together; and on the morrow, near the western gate as I went out of the city I counted no less than a hundred crosses.
“Most gladly do I again open this letter to add that we purpose with all speed to leave Jerusalem, and to come to Ephesus. Hereto Philemon is moved, not so much by the unquiet times here, as by a letter announcing that Apphia is sick; for whose sake I am truly sorry, and I beg you to join with the worthy Evagoras (whose zeal is greater methinks than his knowledge in medicine) that she may be restored to health; but for Philemon’s sake I rejoice, for assuredly a month’s sojourning in Jerusalem would no less draw him to the Jews than it would drive me from them.”
On the morrow we left Jerusalem and came to Cæsarea Stratonis; and then to Sidon and so home, as I shall recount hereafter. And all this while I remained still an unbeliever, outside the fold of the faithful.
But even so must it needs have been, O Lord. For to thee none draweth nigh through weighing of probabilities, no, nor through belief in thy mighty works, nor through trust in traditions concerning thy birth and rising again; but it is through Love of thee and Trust in thee alone that thou art embraced; for thou art Love, and by thee alone is the heart of man made capable of thee. Wherefore it pleased thee in thy mercy that I, in seeking to find thee should not find thee, to the intent that afterwards in not finding thee I should find thee. For now, I reasoned, I examined, I sought; yet I found not. But afterwards, I reasoned not, I examined not, I sought not; yea, I fled from thee that I might wander in the wilderness of sin; but even there didst thou meet me and through thy love mine eyes were opened; and I could not choose but know thee to be my true Shepherd, and when thou didst call me by name I could not choose but come.
END OF THE THIRD BOOK.
THE FOURTH BOOK.
§ 1. HOW WE CAME TO ATHENS.
Loosing from Sidon we were driven by violent winds to the Chelidonian isles. There the Pamphylian sea divides itself from the Lycian; and the floods, meeting several ways and breaking against the promontory, swell into terrible billows rising higher than the cliffs. But when we were now in great peril of our lives, the Lord had mercy on us. For he sent a star which, seeming to settle upon our top-sail, by a left-hand course directed our vessel again into the sea, just when it was ready to be dashed upon the cliffs. I had often before heard speak of these marvellous stars, but never yet had seen them; and although Artemidorus had taught me that they were no gods but mere effects of causes according to nature, yet, in such extreme peril, being filled with thankfulness for our deliverance, I could not but join myself with the mariners and the rest of the crew in doing worship to the twin-gods. That very night—having often before of late had visions of a man seated on the clouds and encompassed with brightness—there came to me another such vision, but of more than usual splendor, and he beckoned to me and said that the stars had been sent by him, and not by these twin-gods whom I had ignorantly worshipped. But I shook off the dream as being a mere phantasm of the night, not knowing that it was from the Lord.
Escaping from the peril of the seas, we sailed through the Arches, and thence were driven onwards, not however to Ephesus, whither we desired to have come, but to Piræus. There, owing to the sickness of Philemon, we spent some days, during which I lodged in the house of Molon the rhetorician; and when at last my master returned to Colossæ, I persuaded him to suffer me to remain at Athens for a while, that I might study rhetoric and attain the true Attic pronunciation and idiom, so that I might be the more useful to him as amanuensis and secretary. But I had other reasons for desiring to remain. For besides the delights and novelties of the city—which were all new to me because I had not been able to persuade Philemon to spend more than two days there when we last came to Greece to visit Lebadea—I had already conceived a love for Eucharis, Molon’s only daughter. But, of this, more hereafter. Meantime it chanced that Philemon, returning to Colossæ, much infected with the superstition of the Christians (as Artemidorus termed it), had caused the latter to suppose that I also was in the same condition of mind; which (to my shame be it spoken) was far from the truth. However, Artemidorus taking it to be true, and being sorely incensed against me, wrote the following letter which I will here set down, being the last I received from him on this matter: