Saul, ill-content with his own prosperity in persecution, retires gloomily, late at night, to his desolated home. He vainly tries to sleep, and, rising very early, goes to consult Gamaliel. Returning, he encounters Shimei, who, with gibes, instigates a further act of persecution on Saul's part, cunningly contriving it to make refusal impossible. Saul attempting the arrest proposed by Shimei meets with opposition, which the latter has secretly inspired. The persecutor in consequence narrowly escapes violent death, being rescued at the critical moment by Shimei; who himself, with a band of servitors, makes the arrest unsuccessfully attempted by Saul alone. The man arrested confesses Jesus before the Sanhedrim, constant against every inducement to deny his Lord. He is scourged, at the instance of Shimei, and finally, at the instance of Mattathias, stoned; Saul in both cases giving his vote against the man.
SAUL AND HIRANI.
With large prosperity and little joy,
Thus the first stage of that 'straight path' foreseen
By him to Rachel, 'traced in blood and tears,'
Saul had accomplished, and the night was late;
He parted from his men and was alone.
Alone and moody, by the westering moon,
His face downcast turned absently toward what
Late was his home, home longer not to him,
With footstep slow suspended by sad thought—
Which had no goal, but ever round and round
On one fixed centre hopelessly revolved—
Saul paced the still streets of Jerusalem,
Like a soul seeking rest and finding none.
Before the door at length he finds himself
Of his own house forsaken yesterday.
For an uncertain absence, but for long
As he supposed, Saul thence that morn had fled
In haste and bitterness. He could not bear
To think of meeting Rachel day by day,
And that great gulf impassable between
Her and himself yawning! he hands imbrued
Perhaps in blood of those she counted dear
But he most hateful counted bringing home,
Her innocent white hands to touch, and feel
The difference! Therefore he fled because
'Rachel,' thought he, 'must bide, and bide we twain
Cannot.' But now Rachel was gone, and Saul,
Alone and lonely, sojourner might be
Where brother and sister late had shared a home.
He enters noiselessly, and unperceived
Steals to his chamber; there upon his couch
To restless thought, he, not to rest, lies down.
Restless and fruitless, save that, morning yet
Pearl-white, untinted with that ruddy flush
Of color in the east before the sun,
Saul rose, and, after joyless orisons,
Went to Gamaliel's house, sure him to find
Already on his roof to greet the dawn.
"In anguish sore and sore perplexity
Of spirit, master," Saul said, "lo, I come
To thee, not knowing whither else to go,
For solace, and the solving of my doubt."
"Welcome thou comest ever, even or morn,"
Gamaliel said; "but what disquiets thee?
When in the council last I heard thee speak,
Thou wert all firmness, as one wholly clear
In purpose, and thou hadst that glad aspect,
Though serious, which befits the mind resolved.
Whence, Saul, the change in thee?"
"Thou knowest," said Saul
"How prospered my attempt, ventured upon
Without thy counsel, in that issue joined
With Stephen."
"Yea, my son," Gamaliel said;
"But I, meantime, after my counsel given
Dissuading thee, had learned myself to feel
How failed the hand of brute authority
Against this strange faith of the Nazarene.
Thine undertaking I less disapproved
After our hearing of the Galilæans.
Something perceived in them, or through them felt,
Disturbed me with a strange solicitude,
Which the ill fortune of thine own assay
Did not relieve. But thou, thou still wert clear,
Wert thou not, Saul? Thine action did not halt;
Promptly in Stephen's stoning thou took'st part."
"I acted promptly, that I might be clear
In thought," said Saul; "this, rather than because
I was so clear. My halting urged me on.
Yet now, O master mine, I might perhaps
Be clear, but that my coadjutorship
Offends me so, torments me with such doubt.
In the right way how can I be, and be
In the same way with Shimei? My soul
Sickens at him, at all his words and ways
Sickens, and still he dogs me every step,
Clings to me like my shadow, whispers me
Over my shoulder, pointing me out my way,
Until I hardly can do that which else
Freely I should, because he bids me do it!"