by George Moore
In every town they were welcomed by the Gentiles as well as by the Jews, which was surprising, and set Joseph’s wits to work; and these being well trained, he soon began to apprehend that the Jews accepted the miracles as testimony that Jesus was really the Messiah and that his teaching was true; whereas the Gentiles admired the miracles for their own sake, failing, however, and completely, to see that because he cured the blind, the palsied, the scrofulous and the halt, they should no longer visit their temples and sacred groves, and admire no more Pan’s huge sexuality and hang garlands upon it, nor carve images of Diana and Apollo. Such abstinence they could not comprehend, and deemed it enough that they were ready to proclaim him a god on the occasion of every great miracle, a readiness that gave great scandal and caused many Jews to turn away from Jesus. It was not enough that he should repudiate this godhead; and the hardness of heart and narrowness of soul that he encountered among his own people afflicted Jesus as much as did the incontinency of the Gentiles, whom he sometimes met, bearing images in procession, going towards some shrine — the very same who had listened to his teaching in the evening. Joseph once dared throw himself in front of one of these processions, and he begged the processionists to Pan to throw aside the garlands and wreaths they had woven. This they would not do, but out of respect to the distinguished strangers that had come to their town they listened for some minutes to his relation that on the last day the dead would be roused by the trumpets of angels to attend the judgment and that the man Jesus before them — the Messiah announced hundreds of years ago in many a prophetic book — would return to earth in a chariot of fire by his Father’s side, the Judgment Book in his hands. May we now proceed on our way? they asked, but Joseph besought them to listen to him for another few minutes, and thinking he had perhaps explained the resurrection badly, and forthwith calling to mind the philosophy of Egypt and Mathias, he asked them to apprehend that it would not be the corruptible body that would rise from the dead but the spiritual body, whereby he only succeeded in perplexing still further the minds of the worthy pagans of Cæsarea Philippi, and provoking stirs and quarrels among his own people.
The processionists took advantage of this diversion of opinion among the Jews to pass on and dispose of their wreaths and votive offerings as it pleased them to do. But on their way back they begged Jesus to perform some more miracles, which he refused to do, and to their great amazement he left them for the Tyrians and Sidonians. But the same difficulties occurred in Tyre and Sidon, the Gentiles accepting the miracles with delight but paying little heed to the doctrine. They begged him to remain with them and offered gifts for his services as healer, but he refused these and returned to Galilee, having performed miracles of all sorts, without, however, having bidden a dead man rise from the grave, to the great disappointment of Joseph, who would have liked to witness this miracle (the greatest of all); seemingly it was not his lot. Peter bade him hope! — the great miracle might happen in Galilee, and as such a miracle would evince the truth of Jesus’ Messiah-ship even to his father, Joseph remained in Capernaum, going out in the boats with Jesus and his disciples, sailing along the shores till the people gathered in numbers sufficient for an exhortation. As there were always many Pharisees and Sadducees among the crowds assembled to hear the Master, he did not land, but preached standing up in the bow, Peter vigilant with an oar, for priests are everywhere enemies of reformation and instigate attacks upon reformers, and those made on Jesus were often so violent that Peter had to strike out to the right and left, but he always managed to get free, and they sailed for less hostile coasts or back to the wharf at Capernaum.
It once occurred to them to try their luck with the Gadarenes, and it was in returning from their coasts one evening that Peter’s boat was caught in a great storm and that Joseph was met by one of his father’s servants as he jumped ashore. The man had come to tell him that if he wished to see his father alive he must hasten to Magdala, and Joseph glared at him dumbfounded, for he had suspected all along that he had little or no right at all to leave his father for Jesus. I did not know I was like this, he blurted out to himself. And as much to silence his accusing conscience as anything else he questioned the stupid messenger, asking him if his father had seen a physician, and if the physician had held out any hopes of a recovery. But the thin and halting account which was all the messenger could give only increased Joseph’s alarm, and it was with much difficulty that he learnt from him that the master had brought some walnuts to the parrots, and just after giving a nut to the green parrot had cried out to Tobias that a great pain had come into his head. Joseph dug his heels into his ass’s side and cried to the messenger: and then? The messenger answered that the pain in the back of his father’s head had become so great that he had begun to reel about, overthrowing one of the parrots on its perch. The parrot flew at master, thinking he had done it —— Never mind the parrot, Joseph replied angrily, confusing the messenger, who told him that the master had entered the house on Tobias’ arm, and had sat down to supper but had eaten nothing to speak of. None of us dared to go to bed that night, the messenger continued. We sat up, expecting every moment somebody to come down from the room overhead to tell us that the master was dead. The next part of the messenger’s story was like a tangled skein, and Joseph half heard and half understood that the great physician that had come from Tiberias had said that he must awaken the master out of the swoon and at any cost. He kept bawling at him, the messenger said. Bawling at him, Joseph repeated after the messenger, and the messenger repeated the words, bawling at him, and saying that the physician said the master’s swoon was like a wall and that he must get him to hear him somehow. He said the effort would cost your father, Sir, a great deal, but he must get him to hear him. The story as the servant related it seemed incredible, but he reflected that servants’ stories are always incredible, and Joseph learned with increasing wonder that Dan had heard the physician and sat up in bed and spoken reasonably, but had fallen back again unconscious, and that the physician on leaving him said that they must get his mouth open somehow and pour a spoonful of milk into his mouth, and call upon him as loudly as they could to swallow. What physician have they sent for? Joseph asked the messenger, but he could not remember the name.
It was Ecanus who was sitting by Dan’s bedside when Joseph arrived, and Joseph learnt by careful nursing and feeding him every ten minutes there was just a chance of saving Dan’s life.
For seven days Dan’s life receded, and it was not till the eighth day the wheel of life paused on the edge of the abyss. Dan, with his eyes turned up under the eyelids, only the white showing, lay motionless; and it was not till the morning of the ninth day that the wheel began to revolve back again; but so slow were its revolutions that Joseph was in doubt for two or three days. But on the fifth day he was sure that Dan was mending, and in about three days more the pupils of Dan’s eyes looked at his son’s from under the eyelids. He spoke a few words and took his milk more easily, without being asked to swallow. The pains in his head returned with consciousness; he often moaned; the doctor was obliged to give him opiates, but he continued to mend and in three weeks was speaking of going out to walk in the garden. To gain his end he often showed a certain childish cunning, urging Joseph on one occasion to go to the verandah to see if somebody was coming up the garden, and as soon as Joseph’s back was turned he slipped out of bed with the intention of getting to his clothes. He fell, without, however, hurting himself, and was put back to bed and kept there for three more weeks before he was allowed a short walk. Even then the concession seemed to be given too soon; for he could not distinguish the different trees, nor could he see the parrots, though he could hear them, and he remained in purblindness for some two or three weeks; but his sight returned, and he said to Joseph: that is a palm-tree and that is a pepper-tree. Joseph answered that he said truly and hastened across the garden to meet Ecanus, for he desired to ask him privily if his father were out of all danger; and the answer to his question was that Dan’
s life would pass away in a swoon like the one he had just come out of, but he might swoon many times — two or three times, perhaps oftener — before he swooned for the last time. More than that Ecanus could not say. A silence fell suddenly between them, and wondering what term of life his father had still to traverse before he swooned into eternity, Joseph followed the physician through the wilting alleys, seeking the shadiest parts, for the summer was well-nigh upon them now.
At the end of one of these, out of the sun’s rays, the old man lay propped up among cushions, dreaming, or perhaps only conscious, of the refreshing breeze that came and went away again. But he awoke at the sound of their steps on the sanded paths, and raised his stick as a sign to them to come to him, and, seeing that he wished to speak, Joseph leaned over his chair, putting his ear close to his father’s face, for Dan’s speech was still thick and often inarticulate. Thou wast nearly going down in the storm, he said, and Joseph could hardly believe that he heard rightly, for what could his father know of the storm on the lake, he being in a deep swoon at the time beyond the reach of words. He asked his father who had told him of the storm, but Dan could say no more than that a voice had told him that there was a great storm upon the lake and that Joseph was in it. Miracle upon miracle! Joseph cried, and he related his escape from shipwreck; how when coming in Peter’s boat from the opposite shores the wind had risen, carrying the lake in showers over the boat till all were wetted to their skins. But, unmindful of these showers, Jesus had continued his teaching, even after a great wave wrenched away a plank or part of one. Master, if the boat be not staunched we perish, Peter said, for which Jesus rebuked Peter and called them all to come forward and kneel closer about him. Kneel, he said, your faces towards me, and forget the plank and remember your sins. We could not do else but as we were bidden, and we all knelt about him, our thoughts fixed as well as we were able to fix them on our sins, but the water was coming into the boat all the while, and in the midst of our prayers we said: in another moment we perish if he stay not the wind and waves. We thought that he would stand up in the bow and command, but he remained seated, and continued to teach us, but the wind lulled all the same, and when we looked round the boat was staunch again, and we made the wharf at Capernaum easily.
Ecanus, who was a man of little faith, asked Joseph if he had seen anybody put his hand to the plank and restore it to its place, and Joseph answered that all were grouped round the Master praying, and that none had fallen away from the group. But there were some in the boat that saw a little angel speeding over the waves. Philip saw both wings and the angel’s feet, but I had only a glimpse. If you would only let me bring him to you —— But, reading his father’s face, Joseph continued: if you haven’t faith, Father, he couldn’t do anything for thee. Father, let me bring him. This shows no distrust in your power, he interjected suddenly, turning to Ecanus. Each man has powers given to him; some are physical and some spiritual; some are powerful in one element and some in another. But no magician that I have met has power over fire and water. Only those into whom God has descended can command both fire and water alike. And he related that when they passed through Chorazin and a woman ran out of her house crying that her little boy had fallen into the fire, Jesus had asked her if she had applied any remedy, and on her saying she had not, he had said: then I will cure him. With his breath he restored him, and five minutes after the child was playing with his little comrades in the street. If, however, she had poured oil on the wounds he couldn’t have cured them, Joseph explained, for his affinity with fire would have been interrupted. In the village of Opeira a child while carrying a kettle of boiling water from the fire tipped it over, burning a good deal of the flesh of one foot, which, however, healed under Jesus’ breath almost as soon as he had breathed upon it. And yet another child was healed of the croup, but this time it was John who imposed his hands: Jesus had transmitted some of his power over the ills of the flesh to the disciples. On Dan asking if Joseph had seen Jesus cast out devils, Joseph replied that he had, but it would take some time to tell the exordium. Whereupon Ecanus remembered that other patients waited for his attendance and took his leave, warning Joseph before leaving against the danger of tiring his father, a thing that Joseph promised not to do; but as soon as the door closed after the physician Dan began to beg so earnestly for stories that Joseph could not do else than tell him of the miracle he had witnessed. Better to submit, he thought, than to agitate his father by refusal; and he began this narrative; the morning of the storm, which they would not have succeeded in weathering had it not been for the intervention of the angel. Jesus and some of the disciples, including Joseph, had set their sail for the Gadarene coasts; and finding a landing-place by a shore seeming desolate, they proceeded into the country; and while seeking a sufficient number to exhort and to teach, their search led them past some broken ruins, shards of an old castle, apparently tenantless. They were about to pass it without examination when a wailing voice from one of the turrets brought them to a standstill. They were not at first certain whether the wailing sound was the voice of the wind or a human voice, but they had hearkened and with difficulty had separated the doleful sound into: woe! woe! woe! unto thee Jerusalem, woe! woe! It sounds to me, Peter said, like one that is making a mock of thee, Master. Having heard that thou foretellest woe to Chorazin —— But Judas, seeing a cloud gathering on Peter’s face, nudged Peter, and the twain went up together and some minutes after returned with a half-naked creature, an outcast whom they had found crouching like a jackal in a hole among the stones, one clearly possessed by many devils. Now as all were in wonder what his history might be, a swineherd passing by at the time told them how the poor, naked creature would take a beating or a gift of food for his singing with the same gentle grace. The words had hardly passed the swineherd’s lips than the possessed began to sing:
Woe! woe! woe! the winds are wailing. The four great sisters, the winds of the world Call one to the other, and it is thy doom They are calling, Jerusalem. Woe! woe! woe! The North brings ruin, the South brings sorrow, The East wind grief, and the West wind tears For Jerusalem. Woe! woe! woe!
And he sung this little song several times, till the hearts of the disciples hardened against the outcast and they were minded to beat him if he did not cease; but the swineherd warned them that a surer way to silence him was by giving him some food; and while he stood by eating, the swineherd confided the story of the fool, or as much of it as he knew, to Jesus. The fool, he said, came from Jerusalem some two years ago. He had been driven out of the Temple, which he frequented daily, crying about the courts the song with which he wearied you just now, till the most patient were unable to bear it any longer; and every time he met a priest he looked into his face and sang: woe! woe! woe! unto Jerusalem, and whenever he met a scribe he would cry: woe! woe! woe! unto Jerusalem, hindering them in their work about the Temple. Some stones were thrown, but enough life was left in him to crawl away, and as soon as he recovered from his wounds he was about again, singing his melancholy ditty (he knows but one). He was told if he did not cease he would be beaten with rods, but he could not cease it, and started his ditty again as soon as he could bear a shirt on his back; and then he must have travelled up here afoot, picking up a bit here and a bit there, getting a lift in an ox-cart. He is without memory of anything, who he is, where he came from, or who taught him his song. He does not know why he chose that broken tower for a dwelling, nor do we, but fortunately it stands in a waste. We hear him singing as we go by to our work and pitch him scraps of food from time to time. We hear him as we return in the evening to our homes making his melancholy dwelling sadder with his song. But he is a harmless, poor fool, save for the annoyance of his song, which he cannot stanch any more than the wind in the broken turrets. A harmless fool who will follow whosoever asked him to follow, unafraid, and taking a blow or a hunch of bread in the same humour, and distinguishing no man from the next one.
As the swineherd said these words the fool said: Jesus, thou has
t come to my help, but woe to thee, Son of God, thou wilt suffer thy death in Jerusalem; and looking up into Jesus’ face more intensely: oh, Son of Man, what aileth thee or me? And knowest thou anything of the cloud of woe that hangs over Jerusalem? To which Jesus made no answer, but called upon the devils to say how many there were, and they answered: three. Then depart ye three, Jesus replied, and was about to impose his hands when the three devils asked whither they should go, to which Jesus answered: ye must seek another refuge, for here ye cannot remain. Seek among the wolves and foxes. But these will flee from us, the devils answered; allow us to enter the hogs rooting the ground before thee. But at this the swineherd cried out: forbid the devils to enter into my hogs, else they will run over the cliffs and drown themselves in the sea. Though you are Jews, and do not look favourably on hogs, they are as God made them. To which Jesus answered, turning to his disciples: the man speaks well, for if unclean they be, it was the will of God that made them so. And taking pity on the hogs that were rooting quietly, unaware of the devils eager to enter into them, he said: there are statues of gods and goddesses in Tiberias, enter into them. And immediately the devils took flight, giving thanks to Jesus as they departed thither.
Joseph waited a moment and tried to read his father’s face. But Dan’s face remained fixed, and as if purposely, which vexed Joseph, who cried: now, Father, you may believe or disbelieve, or be it thou’rt naturally averse from Jesus, but thou knowest as well as I do that two days after the great storm a statue of the goddess Venus fell from her pedestal in the streets of Tiberias and was broken. But, Joseph, when the statue fell I was sick and had no knowledge of the fall. But if a statue of the goddess Venus did fall from her pedestal, I’d ask why the devils should choose to destroy false gods? Were it not more reasonable for them to uphold the false gods safe and secure on their pedestals? The gods were overthrown for a sign that the devils had left the fool’s body, Joseph answered. But why, Dan replied, didn’t three statues fall? — a statue for each devil — and whither did the devils go? That one statue should fall was enough for a sign, Joseph said, but no more would he say, for his father’s incredulity irritated him, and seeing that he had angered his son, Dan stretched his hand to him and said: perhaps we are more eager to believe when we are young than when we are old. And he asked Joseph to tell him of some other miracle that he might have seen Jesus perform.
