Peter’s wife still hesitated, not knowing what to believe, and Saulus turned sorrowfully away, saying,—
“Tell Peter that I love the brethren! I will come again after his return.”
The maid had escaped from the house, and quickly warned the faithful who lived in the neighborhood. Many fled from their homes, taking their children with them, believing that, as Saulus had returned, a new persecution was at hand. Consternation reigned, and word was sent out among the disciples in other parts of the city that they were again to be harassed and hunted down.
Saulus was sorely grieved when he left the house of Peter. He was counted an enemy among his friends. He almost wished himself back in the desert.
It was now evening, and not expedient to visit Peter’s house before the morrow. He walked aimlessly along the street hardly knowing what to do, but being weary, and seeing a small inn near by, entered, thinking to sojourn for the night. After removing the dust and sweat of the journey, and partaking of a light supper, he walked out to enjoy the cool of the evening, and calm his troubled thoughts. The moon was bright, the air soft, the streets crowded, and the sound of voices and laughter echoed from the house-tops.
What a contrast with the desert and cave! What a great network, and even tangle, of disagreeing interests, systems, opinions, and religions! How sorely the world needed the resolving and transforming power of the new life, and a knowledge of the higher law! Selfish[pg 409]ness, prejudice, sensuality, and devotion to the seen and temporal, everywhere dominant! What a change in himself, and in his interpretation of life!
As these reflections coursed through his mind, he found himself at the entrance of one of the public gardens which skirted the slope of Mount Moriah. The spicy odor of plant and blossom lent a charm to the place, and being in a meditative mood, he entered and seated himself in a retired corner of one of the bowers. Groups of people were all around, some seated and others promenading, seeking the enjoyment of social converse and recreation. Occasional peals of laughter and snatches of song gave evidence of the light-heartedness of the children of the Orient.
But Saulus was wrapped in a more profound revery. With a heart full of love he had come to bear a great blessing to the Holy City, but none would receive it. To his old friends he was now a renegade and traitor, while to his new brethren he was a terror and a cause of offence. O ungrateful world! With head bowed between his hands, the hot tears could not be held back.
A young man and woman from among the promenaders sat down near him. Although they were hard by, a partial partition of vines intervened, effectually secluding him. He started to arise, but could not retreat without passing directly before them in the full moonlight to the entrance of the bower. Moreover, the conversation could not concern him, so he kept his seat.
“Thou seemest sad, and not like thyself to-night, my Cassia!”