CHAP. XXVII.

Jesus fell back into sleep as soon as the lamb was fed, and it was in this second sleep of more than six hours that he regained his natural strength. Has Joseph returned? he asked on awakening, and the brother nearest him answered that he had not; whereupon Jesus asked that Hazael should come to him, and he said to him: Hazael, Joseph told thee that as soon as his business was transacted in Jericho he would return hither, and if that were not possible the delay would not be long. But four days have passed and we haven't seen him nor have we news of him. Now how is this? He couldn't have heard in Jericho nor in Jerusalem of my faring among the hills of Cæsarea in search of a lamb. It was only on those hills that I might find a lamb that would recover for us the strength that has gone out of the flock. And I would that Joseph were here to see him that I've brought back. My heart misgives me. Thou'lt feed him in my absence, he said to one of the brethren, and I'll go down on to the terraces and wander across the bridge, for on the hills over yonder I may catch sight of Joseph coming to meet me. Can none tell me if he will come from Jericho or Jerusalem? A brother cried that he would feed the lamb as Jesus directed, and the brethren at work among the fig-trees spoke to each other of the grief visible on Jesus' face as he passed them and questioned each other and sought a reason for it. Has the lamb fallen sick? one asked, and on that thought they ran up the terraces to inquire for the lamb, who, that day, had been given the name of Cæsar. The lamb sleeps in peace, Hazael answered, but Jesus, his saviour, has gone out in great disorder of mind to get tidings of Joseph, the great trader in figs and dates. He promised to return the same evening after transacting his business in Jericho, Hazael continued. Four days have passed away without news of him; some misfortune may have befallen him. May have! Hazael repeated under his breath as he walked away. Has befallen him without doubt.

The brethren waited for Jesus to return, but he did not return to them; and at nightfall a watch was set at the bridge head, and the same was done for many succeeding days, till the story reached the Brook Kerith that Joseph had been killed in the streets of Jerusalem by order of the Zealots. Priests never forget to revenge themselves on those that do not submit to their ideas and exactions, Hazael muttered, thereby stirring the curiosity of the brethren; but he could not tell them more, Joseph's relation having been insufficient to make plain the truth that Joseph, as Jesus' friend, must have earned the High Priest's displeasure. A very little suspicion, he said to himself, is enough to bring about the death of a man in our days; and the priests were always jealous and afraid of prophets. Is then our Jesus a prophet? Saddoc asked, and Manahem's eyes were full of questions. I can tell ye no more than I've said already, Hazael answered, and the brethren forgot their curiosity, for their hearts were stirred with pity. A great grief it surely will be, they said to one another, when Jesus returns and hears that his friend is dead, and they asked which among them should be the one to tell him of this great loss that had befallen him. Not I, said one, nor I, another answered, and as they passed into their cells it was the opinion of all that Hazael should tell him.

Next morning when they came forth from their cells, after giving thanks for the returning light, they stood on the hillside, hoping that every minute would bring them sight of Jesus returning. At last a shepherd came through the dusk, but it was not Jesus but Amos coming towards them, and the news he brought was that he had met Jesus on the hills wandering like one of disordered mind. He has taken my sheep from me and has lost them, I fear. But why, the brethren cried, didst thou leave thy sheep to him? To which Amos could make no straightforward answer: all he knew was that he had met Jesus and been greatly frightened by his speech and his show of gestures and demeanour. All the same, he said, I felt I had better let him have the sheep. And the brethren said: ruin has befallen us this time. We know the reason of the disordered mind that thou tellest of. Joseph was slain by the Zealots in Jerusalem by order of the priests, and the tidings must have come to Jesus as he wandered out on to the hills seeking his friend, and it was they that robbed him of his mind. We are ruined, the brethren cried, for our sheep are with him, and he without thought for anything but his grief. Amos could not answer them nay, for their words seemed to him but the truth, and they all returned to the cenoby to mourn for Jesus and themselves till Jesus was brought back to them by some shepherds who found him wandering, giving no heed to the few sheep that followed him; only a few had escaped the wolves, and the brethren charged Amos with the remnant, muttering among themselves: his heart is broken. He is without knowledge of us or the world around him. But why does he turn aside from our dwelling preferring to lie with his dogs under the rocks? It is for that our dwelling reminds him of Joseph. It was here he saw him last, Manahem replied. It will be well to leave him to wander at will, giving him food if his grief allows him to come for it; any restraint would estrange him from us, nor may we watch him, for when the mind is away man is but animal; and animals do not like watchful eyes. We may only watch over him lest he do himself bodily harm, Eleazar said, There is no harm, Manahem said, he can do himself, but to walk over the cliffs in a dream and so end his misery. We would not that the crows and vultures fed on Jesus, Caleb answered. We must watch lest he fall into the dream of his grief.... But he lives in one. Behold him now. He sees not the cliffs over yonder nor the cliffs beneath. Nor does he hear the brook murmur under the cliffs. Grief is a wonderful thing, Manahem said, it overpowers a man more than anything else; it is more powerful even than the love of God, but it wears away; and in this it is unlike the love of God, which doesn't change, and many of us have come here so that we may love God the better without interruptions. It is strange, Eleazar said, that one who loves God as truly as Jesus, should abandon himself to grief. Eleazar's words caused the Essenes to drop into reveries and dreams, and when they spoke out of these their words were: his grief is more like despair. And in speaking these words they were nearer the truth than they suspected, for though Jesus grieved and truly for Joseph, there was in his heart something more than mortal grief.

It often seemed to him as he sat gazing across the abyss that his temerity in proclaiming himself the Messiah was punished enough by crucifixion: the taking from him of the one thing that crucifixion had left behind often put the thought into his mind that God held him accursed; and in his despair he lost faith in death, believing he would be held accursed for all eternity. He forgot to take food and drink; he fed upon his grief and would have faded out of life if Cæsar had not conceived a dislike to his keeper and run bleating among the rocks till he came upon Jesus whom he recognised at once and refused to leave, thrusting a nozzle into Jesus' hand and lying down by his side. Nor could the brethren beguile the lamb from Jesus with milk, and Jesus taking pity on the faithful animal said: give me the feeding bottle, I will feed him. Whereupon Cæsar began to bleat, and so cheerfully, that all conceived a new affection for him, but he had none for anybody but Jesus, whom he followed about the cliffs as a dog might, lying down at his side.

The twain strayed together whither there was scarce foothold for either, and the brethren said as they watched them: if Cæsar were to miss his footing and fall over the edge, the last link would be broken and Jesus would go over after him. But sheep and goats never miss their footing, a brother answered. It is fortunate, another replied, that Cæsar should have attached himself to Jesus. He seems to say, I get happier and happier every day, and his disposition will react on Jesus and may win him out of his melancholy.

And it seemed as if the brother had guessed rightly, for though Jesus' face showed no interest in the brethren, nor in the cenoby, he seemed to enjoy the sympathy of the dumb animal. He liked to call to Cæsar and to lay his hand upon Cæsar's head, and to look into his eyes, and in those moments of sympathy the brethren said: he forgets his grief. But Cæsar is coming into ramhood, Saddoc answered, and will have to go away with the flock. There were brethren who cried out against this: let the flock perish rather than Jesus should be deprived of Cæsar. Wouldst have him remain when he is a great ram? Manahem asked, and the others answered: yes, for Jesus takes no thought for anything but Cæsar, and the brethren conferred together, and spent much thought in trying to discover a remedy other than Cæsar for Jesus' grief.

But one day Jesus said to the brethren: Cæsar is coming into ramhood, and I must take him away to the hills, he must come with me and join the ewes. Art thou going to be our shepherd again? said they. If ye will entrust the flock to me. My thoughts will never wander from it again. Jesus spoke the words significantly, and many of the brethren believed that he would prove himself to be the great shepherd that he was of yore, but others said: his grief will break out upon him on the hills; but these counsels were overruled by Manahem and Saddoc. Jesus, Saddoc said, never smiles and his words are few, but he is himself again, and the best shepherd that ever walked these hills is worse than he, so it is said. He lost a few sheep, Manahem said, in the first days of his great grief, but his mind is altogether now on the encouragement of the flock and Amos is wearied of it and would return to the reading of the Scriptures. Thou speakest well, Manahem, Saddoc returned, for it was in his mind as it was in Manahem's that the sight of men and the sound of men's voices were a torture to Jesus, and that he longed for solitude and silence and the occupation of the flock.

The cenoby will never be the same again without our pet, some of the brethren cried, but others said: it must be so. We'll go to see Cæsar's lambs, they cried, as he was being led away. There will be no lambs by Cæsar this spring, Jesus answered. He'll run with the ewes and that's about all; for a ram is not fit for service till he is two years old. Whereupon the distraction of Jesus' grief being removed from the cenoby, the Essenes fell to talking again of the great schism and what came of it. Are our brothers happier in wedlock than we are in celibacy? was the question they often put to each other on the balcony; and a sudden meeting of thoughts set them comparing the wives beyond Jordan with the ewes of the hills. Which are the most fruitful? they asked themselves; and it was averred that though twin lambs were of equal worth, it might fall out in the strange destinies that beset human life that one of human twins might be a robber and the other a devout Essene.

On a balcony overhanging an abyss some hundred feet in depth, through which a brook sings a monotonous song, men may dream a long while on the problem of destiny, and on awaking from their different meditations it was natural that they should speak about the difficulties the brethren by the lake would experience when they set themselves to discover women who would accept the rule of life of the Essenes and for no enjoyment for themselves, but that the order might not perish, and with it holiness pass out of the world.

Of what women will they possess themselves? a brother often asked. Not Jewish women, who would prefer to join themselves with Pharisees or Sadducees rather than with Essenes, and the converts, the brother continued, that might be made among the Gentile women from Mesopotamia and Arabia could not be counted upon to produce pious children, though the fathers that begot the children might be themselves of great piety. These words put the thought into another brother's mind, that a woman is never faithful to one man, an abiding doctrine among the Essenes: and the group of three, Caleb, Eleazar and Benjamin, began to speak of the stirs and quarrels that these converts would provoke in the cenoby. For even amongst those who have renounced women, there are always a few that retain a longing for women in their heart, and the smouldering embers will burst into flame at the sight of woman. Is not that so, Benjamin? There is much truth in thy words, Caleb, Benjamin answered, and I would know if they partition off the women into an enclosure by themselves, and only take them out at a time judged to be the fruitfullest, for it is not lawful for us to experience pleasure, and as soon as the women are with child, the brethren we have left behind, I trust, withdraw from the company of their wives. Unless, said Eleazar, all the rules of our order be abolished. We did well to leave them, Caleb answered. And then, posing his small fat hands on the parapet, he said: women have ever been looked upon as man's pleasure, and our pleasures are as wolves, and our virtues are as sheep, and as soon as pleasure breaks into the fold the sheep are torn and mangled. We're better here with our virtues than they by the lake with their pleasures.

Trouble has begun amongst them already, Eleazar said, and Benjamin turned to ask him if he had gotten news of the brethren by the lake; and he answered that yesterday a shepherd told him that many brothers had left the settlement. We did well, Caleb said, to cherish our celibacy, and the price of living on this rock was not too high a price for it. But tell us what thou hast heard, Eleazar. Eleazar had heard that troubles were begun, but he hoped children would bring peace to all. But all women aren't fruitful, Caleb said, and Benjamin was vexed with Eleazar because he hadn't asked how many women were already quick. And they fell to talking scandal, putting forward reasons why some of the brethren should separate themselves from their wives.

Perhaps we shall never know the why and the wherefore, Eleazar said, it being against our rules to absent ourselves without permission from the cenoby, and if we were to break this rule, Hazael might refuse to receive us again. We should wander on the hills seeking grass and roots, for our oaths are that we take no food from strangers. Yet I'd give much to hear how our brethren, for they are our brethren, fare with their wives.

And when they met on the balcony, the elder members of the community, Hazael, Mathias, Saddoc and Manahem, like the younger members conferred together as to whether any good could come to those that had taken wives to themselves for their pleasure. Not for their pleasure, Hazael said, but that holiness may not pass out of the world for ever. But as holiness, Mathias was moved to remark, is of the mind, it cannot be affected by any custom we might impose upon our corporeal nature. Whereupon a disputation began in which Manahem urged upon Mathias that if he had made himself plain it would seem that his belief was that holiness was not dependent upon our acts; and if that be so, he asked, why do we live on this ledge of rock? To which question Mathias answered that the man whose mind is in order need not fear that he will fall into sin, for sin is but a disorder of the mind.

A debate followed regarding the relation of the mind to the body and of the body to the mind, and when all four were wearied of the old discussion, Saddoc said: is it right that we should concern ourselves with these things, asking which of the brothers have taken wives, and how they behave themselves to their wives? It seems to me that Saddoc is right, these matters don't concern us who have no wives and who never will have. But, said Manahem, though this question has been decided so far as our bodies are concerned, are we not justified in considering marriage as philosophers may, no subject being alien to philosophy? Is not that so, Mathias? No subject is alien to philosophy, Mathias agreed, to which Saddoc replied: we could discuss this matter with profit if we knew which of the brothers had taken to himself a wife; but only rumours reach us here; and the brethren looked across the chasm, their thoughts crossing it easily and passing over the intervening hills down into the plains and over Jordan. We should no doubt be content, said Manahem, with our own beliefs, and abide in the choice that we have made without questioning it further, as Hazael has said. Yet it is hard to keep thoughts of the brethren we have left out of our minds. How are we, Hazael, to remain unmoved when rumours touching on the lives of those we have left behind reach us? Is it not merely natural that we should desire to hear how our brethren fare in married life? Dost think, Hazael, that those we left behind never ask each other how we fare in our celibacy? Man is the same all the world over inasmuch as he would like to hear he has avoided the pitfall his brother has fallen into. It is said, Manahem continued, that the elders yonder are disturbed now as to whether they too should take wives, though in the great disputation that we took part in, it was decided that marriage should be left to the younger and more fruitful. Wherefore, if it is said that trouble has come, Hazael answered, we should be sorry for our weak brethren, and if stories reach us, he continued, we should receive them with modesty: we should not go out to seek stories of the misfortunes of those who have not been as wise as we, and of all we should not wish to go down to Jordan to inquire out the truth of these stories; Caleb and Benjamin ask betimes for leave to visit them. Eleazar, too, has asked; but I have refused them always, knowing well whither their curiosity would lead them. Lest, Mathias interposed, they bring back the spirit and sense of women with them.

A flock of doves crossing over the chasm on quick wings put an end to the discourse, and as no more stories reached them who dwelt in the cavern above the Brook Kerith regarding the behaviour of the wives to their husbands and of the husbands towards their wives, the thoughts of the younger brethren reverted to Cæsar, and to the admiration of the ewes for his beauty. A year later, when Jesus came down from the hills, he was met with cries of: how fares it with Cæsar? Does he tire on the hills? When will the ewes begin to drop their lambs? A buzz of talk began at once in the cenoby when the news arrived that Cæsar's lambs were appearing, but the brethren could not conceal their disappointment that they should look like the lambs they had seen before. We expected the finest lambs ever seen on these hills, they said, and thou hast no more word to say in praise of them than that they are good lambs. Jesus answered that in two months he would be better able to judge Cæsar's lambs, and to choose amongst them some two or three that would continue the flock worthily. Which? the brethren asked, but Jesus said a choice would be but guess-work at present, none could pick out the making of a good ram till past the second month. Caleb marked one which he was sure would be chosen later, and Benjamin another, and Eleazar another; but when the time came for Jesus to choose, it was none of these that he chose, and on hearing of their mistakes, the brethren were disappointed, and thought no more of the flock, asking only casually for Cæsar, and forgetting to mourn his decease at the end of the fourth year; his successor coming to them without romantic story, the brethren were from henceforth satisfied to hear from time to time that the hills were free from robbers; that the shepherds had banded together in great wolf hunts; and that freed from their natural enemies, the wolves and robbers, the flock had increased in numbers beyond the memory of the oldest shepherd on the hills.