XLI.
SAINT JOHN AND THE ROBBER.
A LEGEND OF THE FIRST CENTURY.
There is a beautiful legend
Come down from ancient time,
Of John, the beloved disciple,
With the marks of his life sublime.
Eusebius has the story
On his quaint, suggestive page;
And God in the hearts of his people
Has preserved it from age to age.
It was after the vision in Patmos,
After the sanctified love
Which flowed to the Seven Churches,
Glowing with light from above:
When his years had outrun the measure
Allotted to men at the best,
And Peter and James and the others
Had followed the Master to rest,
In the hope of the resurrection,
And the blessed life to come
In the house of many mansions,
The Father's eternal home;
It was in this golden season,
At the going down of his sun,
When his work in the mighty harvest
Of the Lord was almost done;
At Ephesus came a message,
Where he was still at his post,
Which unto the aged Apostle
Was the voice of the Holy Ghost.
Into the country he hastened
With all the ardor of youth,
Shod with the preparation
Of the Gospel of peace and truth.
His mission was one of mercy
To the sheep that were scattered abroad,
And abundant consolation,
Which flowed through him from the Lord.
O, would my heart could paint him,
The venerable man of God,
So lovingly showing and treading
The way the Master had trod!
O, would my art could paint him,
Whose life was a fact to prove
The joy of the Master's story,
And fill their hearts with his love!
At length, when the service was ended,
His eye on a young man fell,
Of beautiful form and feature,
And grace we love so well.
At once he turned to the bishop,
And said with a love unpriced,
"To thee, to thee I commit him
Before the Church and Christ."
He then returned to the city,
The beloved disciple, John,
Where the strong unceasing current
Of his deathless love flowed on.
The bishop discharged his duty
To the youth so graceful and fair;
With restraining hand he held him,
And trained him with loving care.
At last, when his preparation
Was made for the holy rite,
He was cleansed in the sanctified water,
And pronounced a child of light.
For a time he adorned the doctrine
Which Christ in the Church has set.
But, alas! for a passionate nature
When Satan has spread his net!
Through comrades base and abandoned
He was lured from day to day,
Until, like a steed unbridled,
He struck from the rightful way;
And a wild consuming passion
Raised him unto the head
Of a mighty band of robbers,
Of all the country the dread.
Time passed. Again a message
Unto the Apostle was sent,
To set their affairs in order,
And tell them the Lord's intent.
And when he had come and attended
To all that needed his care,
He turned him and said, "Come, Bishop,
Give back my deposit so rare."
"What deposit?" was the answer,
Which could not confusion hide.
"I demand the soul of a brother,"
Plainly the Apostle replied,
"Which Christ and I committed
Before the Church to thee."
Trembling and even weeping,
"The young man is dead," groaned he.
"How dead? What death?" John demanded.
"He the way of the tempter trod,
Forgetting the Master's weapon,
And now he is dead unto God.
Yonder he roves a robber."
"A fine keeper," said John, "indeed,
Of a brother's soul. Get ready
A guide and a saddled steed."
And all as he was the Apostle
Into the region rode
Where the robber youth and captain
Had fixed his strong abode.
When hardly over the border,
He a prisoner was made,
And into their leader's presence
Demanded to be conveyed.
And he who could brave a thousand
When each was an enemy,
Beholding John approaching,
Turned him in shame to flee.
But John, of his age forgetful,
Pursued him with all his might.
"Why from thy defenseless father,"
He cried, "dost thou turn in flight?
Fear not; there is hope and a refuge,
And life shall yet be thine.
I will intercede with the Master
And task His love divine."
Subdued by love that is stronger
Than was ever an arméd band,
He became once more to the Father
A child to feel for His hand.
Subdued by a love that is stronger
Than a world full of terrors and fears,
He returned to the House of the Father
Athrough the baptism of tears.
Such is the beautiful legend
Come down from ancient days,
Of love that is young forever;
And is he not blind who says
That charity ever faileth,
Or doth for a moment despair,
Or that there is any danger
Too great for her to dare;
When John, the beloved disciple,
With the faith of the Gospel shod,
Went forth in pursuit of the robber,
And brought him back to God?
O Church, whose strength is the doctrine
Of the blessed Evangelist,
This doctrine of love undying
Which the world can not resist!
Put on thy beautiful garments
In this sordid and selfish day,
And be as of old a glory
To turn us from Mammon away;
Until to the prayer of thy children,
The sweetly simple prayer,
That bathed in the light of Heaven
Thy courts may grow more fair,
There comes the eternal answer
Of works that are loving and grand,
To remain for the generations
The praises of God in the land.
O Church, whose strength is the doctrine
Of the blessed Evangelist,
The doctrine of love undying
Which the world can not resist!
Go forth to the highways and hedges
To gather the sheep that are lost,
Conveying the joyful tidings,
Their redemption at infinite cost.
Proclaim there is hope and a refuge
For every wanderer there;
For every sin there is mercy--
Yea, even the sin of despair!
O, then will thy beautiful garments,
As once in the prime of thy youth,
Appear in celestial splendor,
Thou pillar and ground of the Truth!