Front matter
P/t i lip A Story of the First Century BY ASars C. Cutler. T. NELSON AND SONS London, Edinburgh, and New York i 3introuuctorn mote. Mrs. Cutler's little book, entitled " Philip : a Story of the First Century," I have read carefully, and feel justified in speaking in the highest terms of its merits. The style is excellent, the purely topo graphical, archæological, and historical details are correct. The language is everywhere well chosen, and is both clear and forcible. New Testament scenes are introduced with unusual skill, and in such a way as to make a vivid impression upon the reader's mind. The book will delight the young, and I am confident that persons of more mature years Avill find it both entertaining and instructive in its portrayal of Christian life in the times im mediately foUowing the death of our Lord.
SELAH MERRILL, Late of Jerusalem. ©font cuts. part first. I. AN EVENTFUL NIGHT, ... ... ... ... ... 7 II. FATHER SIMEON, ... ... ... ... 21 III. A GALILEAN PATRIOT, ... ... ... ... 20 IV. PHILIPS QUESTION, ... ... ... ... ... 37 V. IN THE TEMPLE, ... ... ... ... ... 45 VI. BEN SIMEON IN DANGER, ... ... ... ... 60 VII. THE SECRET CHAMBER, ... ... ... ... 7g A'lII. DESOLATION AND WOE, ... ... ... ... 83 IX. A RAY OF HOPE, ... ... ... .... ... 100 X. DELIVERANCE, ... ... ... ... ... 112 Ipart Sccono. I. THE NEW TEACHER, ... ... ... ... ... 122 II. WITH THE MASTER, ... ... ... ... ... 130 III. CRUCIFIED! ... ... ... ... 137 IV. GLAD TIDINGS, ... ... ... ... ... 14S V. POWER FROM ON HIGH, ... ... ... ... 154 VI. "IN THE NAME OF JESUS," ... ... ... ... 101 VII. THE ETHIOPIAN EUNUCH, . . ... ... ... 171 VIII.
SPREADING THE GOOD NEWS, .. ... ... ... 1S1 IX. THE APOSTLE OF THE GENTILES, ... ... ... 192 X. PRICELESS LEGACIES, ... ... ... ... ... PHILIP part ssirst.
Chapter I. An Eventful Night
IN a Ioav whitewashed house within the walls of Bethlehem lived Ben Simeon ancl his family. The day on which our story opens had been one of unusual stir ancl excitement in that household ; for guests were expected in the evening — kinsfolk of Ben Simeon's Avife, Avho lived so far awyay in the north that they seldom Aisited their native toAvn. But uoav they Avere all coming ; and though the requirements of hospitality were very simple in those times, yet the little house seemed likely to be filled to overfloAving. " Wouldst thou come with me to the Avatchtower to-night ? " asked Ben Simeon of his eldest son. " Since thou hast long AAished to do so, thou mayest as AveU sleep there to-night, and that will leave more room at home." The boy's dark eyes brightened at the suggestion, and he gladly assented.
To be sure, he had looked forward to hearing the marvellous stories which his favourite uncle, not many years older than himself, always had to tell ; but the morrow he thought would suffice for that. He Avould go with his father to-night. When the guests had been Avelcomed, and had partaken of the evening meal, Ben Simeon returned thanks to the GiA7er of all good, and commended his household and friends to the all-seeing One. Then his son brought him his shepherd's cloak, and they made ready for the night. It was but a little Avay out of the towrn and across the fields to the toAArer called Migdal Eder, which means " the tower of the flock." In the pastures around this Avatch-towær wære kept the flocks that were destined for the Temple altar. Ben Simeon ancl the others who Avatched these flocks were not ordinary shepherds.
Only A-ery good and de\7out men were thought to be w7orthy of such an honour, for it Avas a common belief that to those Avho Avatched at Migdal Eder the Messiah w7ould first be revealed. Ancl so, A\iiile other shepherds sought shelter for themselves and their flocks during the rainy season, the Temple flocks re mained in the open field all the year round ; and the shepherds Avatched if perchance He Avould come whom these animals, the most perfect of their kind, in some vague Avay foreshacloAved. Although the distance Avas short, Ben Simeon ancl his son made sIoav progress on their Avay out of the toAvn, for the narroAV streets wære crowded with people, many of whom Avere strangers seeking shelter for the night. Frequently they heard the Avords, " Every house is full," and, " There is no room in the khan."
" HaAre all the people in town friends visiting them to-night ? " asked the lad. " I fear many have come Avho have no friends here, though not from choice. Herod has com manded every one to go to his oavii city ancl have his name enrolled there ; and no one dares disobey the tyrant, though he knows he is only to be taxed for his pains." " My Uncle Philip said he had come to see me at the command of Cæsar ; Avhat meant he by that ? " " The decree for the enrolment was put forth by Augustus ; but he Avould not have hastened it thus. Herod is only too glad to curry favour with him." Then after a pause, Ben Simeon added, " Thy uncle seems pleased with his namesake, and would not put hard thoughts into thy young mind. But his own blood is hot because of the cruelties of the Idumæan usurper whom we are forced to call our nig.
By this time they had reached the tower. Those on duty there had completed the preparations for the night. Four of the choicest lambs had been separated from the flock, and were resting in an enclosure adjoining the tower, where Ben Simeon was to care for them and take them with him to the Temple in the morning. The remainder wære in adjacent fields, in the care of other shepherds. Ben Simeon took great delight in studying the wonders of the heavens. In his boyhood he had a teacher Avho had travelled in Egypt, and there learned many of the curious things which the Egyptians taught about the stars. The boy Philip had long been wanting to learn of these things, and it was for this purpose that his father had recently promised to take him some night to the toAver. There had been much rain of late ; but noAV the weather had cleared, ancl the night was fine.
Under the brown herbage new life had started, making the air odorous like that of early spring clays in more northern latitudes. For a long Avhile the father ancl son talked to gether. Ben Simeon could not answer all Philip's questions ; ancl many things he said about the stars would sound A7ery strange to the boys ancl girls of to-day. He knew there had once lived a Greek philosopher who claimed that the sun stood still, and that the earth ancl moon ancl some of the stars revolved about it. But nobody, he said, believed that then. The Egyptians taught that the earth stood still in the centre of the universe, ancl that sun, moon, and stars all revolved around it. But Philip Avas most interested in learning about the constellations, AAiiich stood out so clearly on their dark background. He had heard about " the bands of Orion," ancl " the sweet influences of Pleiades ; " and it Avas Avith keen delight that he learned to trace the outline of the one stalking high through the heavens, or strained his eyes trying to count seven stars in the pretty cluster near by.
After Ben Simeon had pointed out these and many other constellations, he turned his son's attention to the hills near by, where David used to study the heavens while he watched his flocks by night. And Avhen Philip's eyes began to droop, his father said, " We will repeat David's psalm about the heaA'ens, and then thou shalt lie doAvn and sleep after the manner of a shepherd boy." Scarcely had they begun the psalm Avhen the sky seemed to be suddenly lighted up with a pale radi ance, and Ben Simeon paused in amazement. " Has the moon risen ? " asked Philip. " A moon that gaA7e such light as this neA'er rose at this time of night," answ7ered his father. " The heavens are declaring in a new manner the glory of God." Even while he spoke, the light grew brighter, but more unlike any light they had ever seen before ; and in the midst of the brightness they discerned the shadoAA7y outline of an angelic figure, Avhich seemed to take on clearer form as it advanced toAvard them.
The startled docks Avere moving un easily about, and the shepherds in the neighbouring fields had fallen doAvn from fear. Ben Simeon, trembling, Avhispered to his son : — " It is the glory of the Lord ; let us prostrate ourselves before him." Ancl then there came to them the sound of words — words that seemed to enter their souls in some other way than through the organs of hearing — so unearthly, so ethereal was their sound : — " Fear not : for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people." Philip Avas so bewildered that he did not under stand what else the angel said ; but he heard the shepherds say afterward that it was about a Saviour being that day born in the city of David, who Avas to be the Messiah. Presently there came to his ears music SAveeter than any he eA7er heard before — more wonderful even than the singing of the boys in the Temple choir, though he had often wondered if angels could sing more sweetly than they.
And the words they sang Avere those Ave know so well, " Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toAvard men." As the last faint echo died aAvay, Philip lifted his head timidly : the air seemed full of bright forms ; but, eA7en Avhile he looked, they faded away, and the brightness changed to a soft ancl tender glow. The shepherds had recovered from their fear, and began to talk together of what they had seen. They desired to go at once to Bethlehem and learn what strange thing had happened. And Ben Simeon said, — ■ " Go ; Philip and I will guard the flock. Only bring me word ere I go to the morning sacrifice." After a time the flocks became quiet, and Philip slept for a while. He was awakened at length by the sound of voices. The shepherds had returned, and Avere telling his father what they had seen.
As he hastened to join them, Nahum, the .eldest of them, was saying, — " We found it all just as the angel told us. The people in the khan had been awakened by the light, though they had heard no voices. When we told our errand they took us out to a cave near by, where the child had been born of whom the angel spoke; for there he was, wrapped in swaddling bands and lying in the manger, just as the angel had said ; and the cave seemed filled with the strange light that we saAV in the heavens just before the angel appeared. The keeper of the khan said that w7hen the mother and father came he had no other place to give them than this cave, where he sometimes sheltered his cattle." Though the first glimmer of morning light had not yet appeared, Ben Simeon was ready to depart with the lambs he was to take to the Temple.
" Let me go too," cried Philip eagerly ; " I Avant to tell Father Simeon Avhat Ave have seen to-night." " Thou shalt go, my son ; for A7erily these things will be meat and drink to my father. Wrap thy mantle about thee ancl hasten." For a long time they walked in silence, except as Ben Simeon noAV and then called back one of his lambs that Avas straying from the path. Certain Avords that he had heard in the synagogue service kept running through his mind, and at last he said them aloud : " He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter." " Who is meant there ? " asked Philip. " I knoAv not," his father ansAvered. " I only knoAV that I lead these poor lambs to be offered ■ — the innocent for the guilty ; and somehow, whenever I look at them noAV, I think of that babe the shepherds haA7e been telling us about : yet I knoAV not Avhy it is so.
Perhaps my father can explain it, for the Spirit of God sometimes speaks to him." It was not yet sunrise Avhen they entered the gate of the Holy City. Ben Simeon left his son at a narroAV street Avhich led to the home of his aged father, while he hastened to the Temple. A priest was watching on its highest pinnacle to give the signal for beginning the day's worship. Just as the sun appeared beyond the southern slope of the Mount of Olives, three blasts re sounded from silver trumpets, and the heavy gates of the Temple swung slowly open to admit the gathering worshippers. Already, by another entrance, Ben Simeon had taken in the lambs he brought, and given them into the charge of one of the assistant priests ; for they must be kept in care of the priests at least four days before being offered for sacrifice.
They had already bound to the altar the lamb for that morning's sacrifice, and the priest stood ready to slay it. Ben Simeon had been a frequent witness of these scenes for years, but never before had the bleeding lamb seemed to him so human as now. Why did it remind him so of that babe lying in the manger at Bethlehem ? He could not tell. He wondered what the priests Avould say about it. But he must wait. Already one of them had entered the Holy Place, bearing the golden censer, to perform the most solemn part of the clay's service ; and there, standing in front of the heavy curtain that shut from his view the Most Holy Place, he Avaited for the signal to spread the incense on the golden altar. MeanAvhile, the people outside moved reverently backward, ancl prostrated themselves in silent worship.
There were not only supplicants praying for their OAvn needs, ancl giving thanks for their own mercies, but representatiAæs chosen to act for the pious Jews in every part of the Avorld, who at that hour, wherever they Avere, turned their thoughts ancl offered their prayers toward the Holy Place. When the worship was ended, the priest came forth and stood at the top of the steps leading down from the Court of the Priests, and Avith out stretched arms pronounced over the Avorshippers a benediction. Then foUowed the daily meat-offering, ancl the chanting of psalms while the drink-offering was being poured out. This closed the morning service, ancl the worshippers began to disperse. It was evident to Ben Simeon by this time that no one kneAV aught of the strange events of the night before. So eager had he been to proclaim (223) the news of a Saviour's birth that he had hardly been able to restrain his impatience.
Now he ac costed the person nearest him, and began to tell what had happened. But he was met witli an in credulous stare, and before he had gone far with his story his auditor turned coldly away. Next he addressed a group of persons, with some of whom he was acquainted ; and they heard him through Avith varying degrees of attention. One young man seemed interested, and began questioning him as to how he understood this event. But just then a stern-visaged man, who had stopped to listen as he was passing, spoke in most contemptuous tones, — " It is not to be expected that country folk should know more about Messiah's coming than we here in Jerusalem." " But have not the Rabbis taught that he would first be revealed at Migdal Eder ? " asked Ben Simeon. " They have never taught that the Bethlehemites would know more about the Messiah than they themselves knoAV ; " and so saying, the stern-visao-ed man turned loftily away.
As he was a scribe of whose learning the people stood in awe, his con tempt for Ben Simeon's story was not without its effect upon the bystanders, ancl they dispersed Avithout further questions or remarks. Somewiiat apart from them had stood an aged Avoman, attended by a young girl, both of very striking appearance. Ben Simeon had often seen them, for they were constant attendants upon the Temple services. The elder, tall, erect, ancl of dignified bearing, was known as a prophetess ; and the Avomen used to gather about her in the Temple courts, seeking her wise ancl friendly counsel, for she had a Avonderful aptitude for remembering and interpreting the Avords of Scripture so that they fitted perfectly each one's need. Hence they be lieved that the Spirit of God rested on her. When Ben Simeon's other auditors had departed, he turned to follow with downcast eyes and de jected countenance.
But as he passed near the prophetess she addressed him, ancl he turned quickly to listen. " Wilt thou tell me again," she said, " what thou and the other shepherds saw last night ? I did not hear it all." Ben Simeon told the story once more ; ancl when he had finished, his listener's face was lighted up with holy joy, and the dark eyes were radiant in AN EVENTFUL NLGHT. spite of their age, as she smiled kindly upon him, saying, — " My son, be not disheartened because they be lieve not thy report. Even Esaias was not believed Avhen he told Avhat the Lord had shown unto him. I know verily that it is the Christ who Avas born this night in Bethlehem, and he it is who shall redeem Israel." " God bless thee, my mother, for such cheering words ! " Ancl Ben Simeon Avent his wray Avith lightened heart.
Chapter II. Father Simeon
WHEN Philip reached the home of his grandfather, the latter had but just risen. He had not been able for a long time to attend the Temple service. But he still endeavoured to rise in season, that his prayers might ascend with those of the worshippers in the Temple courts at the time of morning incense. He Avas startled at Philip's sudden appearance, fearing that he brought ill tidings from his son's family. But a look into the boy's eager face assured him that it w7as not ill neAvs he brought. Philip could hardly wait for the usual salutations to be over before beginning the story of what he had seen and AAiiat the shepherds had told them. Just as he had finished the recital they heard the Temple signal, by AA'hich they knew that incense Avas about to be offered in the Holy Place. Then FATHER SIMEON. 22 the old man and the boy together bow7ed them selves in reverent worship.
Philip had noticed that his grandfather seemed greatly moved at the account of what the shepherds had seen ; yet he Avas hardly prepared for the ecstatic burst of thanksgiving and praise which flowed from the old man's lips when the season for silent worship was over. It filled him Avith such aAve, that when at last they arose he hardly dared to move or speak. He stood for a moment quite abashed, until his grandfather motioned him to his side. Draw ing Philip close to him, he said, — " I, too, saw strange things last night, my son. The Holy One — blessed be his name ! — seemed to come very near to me, and I heard a voice saying, ' Thou shalt not see death till thou hast seen the Christ.' It must be he who was born last night in Bethlehem, and my eyes shall look upon him ere I die. But thou, my son, shalt live to be his folloAver ; thou shalt drink of his cup, and share in his glory."
The old man wTas too much overcome to say more, ancl Philip thought it might be time to go and find his father. Just as he Avas leaving it occurred to him that he must tell Deborah the good news. She was the trusted servant of the FATHER SIMEON. 23 family, having given the best years of her life to their interests ; ancl she was ahA7ays treated by them with respect and affection. Philip's father had been her favourite in his boyhood, and her fondness for him Avas now extended to his family. Philip found her an eager listener to his story ; ancl, when he had ended, she brought from her storeroom some cakes and honey ancl placed them before him, and then left him that she might attend to the Avants of his grandfather. He was sitting quite motionless AAThen Deborah entered his apartment. His mind had been so wrought upon that his body seemed benumbed, and his eyes Avere fixed on the floor.
Deborah hurried to the court, Avhere a fire of charcoal w7as burning in a brazier. Quickly removing some coals to a smaller pan, she carried them to her master that he might warm himself by them. Then she brought a jar of grape syrup, of which he took a little ; but he seemed Avholly disinclined to eat. While returning to the apartment where she had left Philip, she saw7 Ben Simeon coming through the archway that led from the street to the inner court. She beckoned him to folloAV her ; and, after persuading him to join Philip at his breakfast, said, — FATHER SIMEON. " Thy father should not talk with thee now, for he needs to rest. He has been strangely agitated ever since he aAvoke this morning." Since his mother's death Deborah had been doubly faithful in caring for his father and looking after the needs of the house.
Hence Ben Sim eon readily submitted to her judgment, but charged her to send him Avord if his father became worse. " Do not fear that he will die yet," said Deborah ; " he will live until he has seen this Child of whom Philip has been telling us, but he will go quickly then." No more words were spoken until Philip and his father arose to go. Then Deborah said, — " Hast thou been telling any one at the Temple about this Child ? " " I tried to do so," answered Ben Simeon ; " but to most of them it seemed an idle tale." " It is Avell that they so regarded it," said Deborah quickly. " How darest thou speak of it Avhen Herod has his spies everyAvhere ? If he will not spare his OAvn sons when he suspects them of being in haste for the croAvn, thinkest thou that he will spare thee if thou reportest the birth of one who is to be our king ?
" FA THER SIMEON. 25 " But the angel said that the good tidings were for all people. What right have I to keep it to myself ? " " Thou Avilt do as thou pleasest," ansAvered De borah ; " but thou shouldst remember the proverb, ' He who speaks out all he likes has to hear what he does not like.' " Father and son said little on their homeward Avay. Each w7as busy Avith his OAvn thoughts, and both Avere eager to reach home and learn Avhat the experiences of the night had been there. A strong breeze from the north had begun to Moav at sunrise, ancl this helped them on their way, so that they made good time. Just as they came in sight of the watch-tower, it occurred to Philip that he had forgotten to ask his grandfather Avhom the prophet meant Avhen he said, " He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter."
" Of course he could not mean the Christ," Philip said to himself, " for the Christ is to be our king." And underneath that thought was another which Philip w7as not yet ready to put into words, though it puffed up his boyish soul with pride, — " And / am to share in the glory of the new king, for Father Simeon says so."
Chapter III
A GALILEAN PATRIOT. THERE had been a commotion that night in the little house where Ben Simeon lived. His wife had been aroused by the restlessness of her wide-aAvake baby Abel, or " Babel," as the rest of the family sometimes called him, because of his delight in all sorts of confused noises. After quiet ing him, she became aware that there were unusual noises in the street — the sound of voices and of people passing to and fro. Opening the shutter which covered her latticed window, she saw that the sky was all agloAV. The window looked to ward the north — the direction of the wratch-toAver. Could it be a fire ? She could think of nothing else to cause such a light. Yet what should cause a fire after the recent heaA7y rains ? All ! there was one explanation, and it quickly suggested itself to the excited mind of Ben Simeon's Avife.
Only the day before she had heard some one say that Herod Avas very angry because certain Jews had dared to express the opinion that his rebuilding of the Temple, magnificent as it was, wrould never atone for his cruelties. She knew that her hus band and the other shepherds of the toAver held this opinion ; ancl she also knew that it would be in accordance Avith Herod's methods to send out spies, w7ho would feign themselves to be opposed to Herod's conduct that they might lead others, wrho Avere really so, to express themselves freely. If he had succeeded in catching thus any of the shep herds of the tower, it w7ould be like him to send men to decoy them into the toAver ancl then set fire to it, Avhile soldiers Avould be at hand to put to death any who might try to escape. All these thoughts rushed through the mind of Ben Simeon's Avife in far less time than it takes to tell of it, and her heart almost stopped beating.
She feared lest her little girls might awake and ask wiiat it all meant. At length she stole noiselessly to the door of the room where her young brother Philip slept, and aroused him. It did not take him long to throAV on his cloak, hurry out to the street and up a narrow passage to a higher street. Then, seeing an open gateway, he entered a court Avhere, by out side stairs, he reached a housetop, from which he could see many miles away. And right in the centre of the mysterious, unearthly radiance stood the watch-tower, safe and sound. He could dis tinguish the forms of the shepherds as they stood looking up into the sky, so intense was the light around them. There were others on the roof be fore him, but they were so intently watching this strange scene that they did not notice Philip ; and he hastened back to assure his sister that her husband and son were doubtless safe.
Then he hurried out again to learn, if he could, the meaning of this unusual appearance. His first thought was to return to his previous outlook. But the light was not so bright now ; and as he walked slowiy along his attention was arrested by an unusual stir near the entrance to the town. He turned about and went in that direction, and presently he saw some men in shep herd's garb parleying Avith the old gatekeeper, who was so deaf that Philip could hear at some distance the words which the old man hardly understood. They were telling him of an angel having appeared to them at Migdal Eder, Avho had told them that the Christ Avas born that night in the city of David, and had given them a sign by which to knoAV him. " Let us enter," said they, " and Ave will bring you w7ord speedily Avhen Ave have found him."
The old man seemed too much beAvildered to make any resistance, ancl alloAved them to pass on Avithout saying anything further. Philip stepped aside into a narroAV passage until they had gone by. Then he folloAved them at a distance, until he saAV them stop at the khan, ancl, after some hesitation, enter the low archway, over which a light was hanging. He Avanted to enter, too ; but a strange feeling of aAve came over him, which held him back, and finally brought him to a standstill, leaning against the Avail of a building. " Can this be true that the shepherds haA7e said ?" he thought Avithin himself. " But, even if it be true, it will be many years before our people will be the better for it. Are Ave to endure so many more years of wicked misrule ? " Ancl the young man's spirit chafed Avithin him at the prospect, like a caged lion Avithin its den.
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