beak, both the sluggish and the swift.”
And another publican said: “Have I not been told that you would protect the harlots of Jerusalem?”
Then in the face of Jesus I saw, as it were, the rocky heights of Lebanon, and He said: “It is true.
“On the day of reckoning these women shall rise before the throne of my Father, and they shall be made pure by their own tears. But you shall be held down by the chains of your own judgment.
“Babylon was not put to waste by her prostitutes; Babylon fell to ashes that the eyes of her hypocrites might no longer see the light of day.”
And other publicans would have questioned Him, but I made a sign and bade them be silent, for I knew He would confound them; and they too were my guests, and I would not have them put to shame.
When it was midnight the publicans left my house, and their souls were limping.
Then I closed my eyes and I saw, as if in a vision, seven women in white raiment standing about Jesus. Their arms were crossed upon their bosoms, and their heads were bent down, and I looked deep into the mist of my dream and beheld the face of one of the seven women, and it shone in my darkness.
It was the face of a harlot who lived in Jerusalem.
Then I opened my eyes and looked at Him, and He was smiling at me and at the others who had not left the board.
And I closed my eyes again, and I saw in a light seven men in white garments standing around Him. And I beheld the face of one of them.
It was the face of the thief who was crucified afterward at His right hand.
And later Jesus and His comrades left my house for the road.
A Widow in Galilee
My son was my first and my only born. He laboured in our field and he was contented until he heard the man called Jesus speaking to the multitude.
Then my son suddenly became different, as if a new spirit, foreign and unwholesome, had embraced his spirit.
He abandoned the field and the garden; and he abandoned me also. He became worthless, a creature of the highways.
That man Jesus of Nazareth was evil, for what good man would separate a son from his mother?
The last thing my child said to me was this: “I am going with one of His disciples to the North Country. My life is established upon the Nazarene. You have given me birth, and for that I am grateful to you. But I needs must go. Am I not leaving with you our rich land, and all our silver and gold? I shall take naught but this garment and this staff.”
Thus my son spoke, and departed.
And now the Romans and the priests have laid hold upon Jesus and crucified Him; and they have done well.
A man who would part mother and son could not be godly.
The man who sends our children to the cities of the Gentiles cannot be our friend.
I know my son will not return to me. I saw it in his eyes. And for this I hate Jesus of Nazareth who caused me to be alone in this unploughed field and this withered garden.
And I hate all those who praise Him.
Not many days ago they told me that Jesus once said: “My father and my mother and my brethren are those who hear my word and follow me.”
But why should sons leave their mothers to follow His footsteps?
And why should the milk of my breast be forgotten for a fountain not yet tasted? And the warmth of my arms be forsaken for the Northland, cold and unfriendly?
Aye, I hate the Nazarene, and I shall hate Him to the end of my days, for He has robbed me of my firstborn, my only son.
Judas the Cousin of Jesus
Upon a night in the month of August we were with the Master on a heath not far from the lake. The heath was called by the ancients the Meadow of Skulls.
And Jesus was reclining on the grass and gazing at the stars.
And of a sudden two men came rushing towards us breathless. They were as if in agony, and they fell prostrate at the feet of Jesus.
And Jesus stood up and He said: “Whence came you?”
And one of the men answered: “From Machaereus.”
And Jesus looked upon him and was troubled, and He said: “What of John?”
And the man said: “He was slain this day. He was beheaded in his prison cell.”
Then Jesus lifted up His head. And then He walked a little way from us. After a while He stood again in our midst.
And He said: “The king could have slain the prophet ere this day. Verily the king has tried the pleasure of His subjects. Kings of yore were not so slow in giving the head of a prophet to the headhunters.
“I grieve not for John, but rather for Herod, who let fall the sword. Poor king, like an animal caught and led with a ring and a rope.
“Poor petty tetrarchs lost in their own darkness, they stumble and fall down. And what would you of the stagnant sea but dead fishes?
“I hate not kings. Let them rule men, but only when they are wiser than men.”
And the Master looked at the two sorrowful faces and then He looked at us, and He spoke again and said: “John was born wounded, and the blood of his wounds streamed forth with his words. He was freedom not yet free from itself, and patient only with the straight and the just.
“In truth he was a voice crying in the land of the deaf; and I loved him in his pain and his aloneness.
“And I loved his pride that would give its head to the sword ere it would yield it to the dust.
“Verily I say unto you that John,
