Part 18 (1/2)

Then one of the malefactors, even in his own death agony, almost mocked Him, but the other rebuked him; ”We receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss!” Then he added beseechingly: ”Lord, remember me when Thou comest into Thy kingdom.”

Christ made the n.o.ble answer: ”Verily I say unto thee, to-day shalt thou be with me in paradise.”

There was a fresh roar of mockery from the Pharisees. ”He cannot save himself, yet promises the kingdom of heaven to others.”

But the Saviour no longer heard, His senses were failing; He bent His head toward Mary and John. ”Woman, behold thy son! Son, behold thy mother!”

The signs of approaching death appeared. He grew restless--struggled for breath, His tongue clung to His palate.

”I thirst.”

The sponge dipped in vinegar was handed to him on a long spear.

He sipped but was not refreshed. The agony had reached its climax: ”Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” He cried from the depths of His breaking heart, a wonderful waving motion ran through the n.o.ble form in the last throes of death. Then, with a long sigh, He murmured in the tones of an aeolian harp: ”It is finished! Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!” gently bowed his head and expired.

A cras.h.i.+ng reverberation shook the earth. Helios' chariot rolled thundering into the sea. The G.o.ds fled, overwhelmed and scattered by the hurrying hosts of heaven. Dust whirled upward from the ground and smoke from the chasms, darkening the air. The graves opened and sent forth their inmates. In the mighty anguish of love, the Father rends the earth as He s.n.a.t.c.hes from it the victim He has too long left to pitiless torture! The false temple was shattered, the veil rent--and amid the flames of Heaven the Father's heart goes forth to meet the maltreated, patient, obedient Son.

”Come, thou poor martyr!” echoed yearningly through the heavens. ”Come, thou poor martyr!” repeated every spectator below.

Yet they were still compelled to see the beloved body pierced with a sharp lance till the hot blood gushed forth--and it seemed as if the thrust entered the heart of the entire world! They were still forced to hear the howling of the wolves disputing over the sacred corpse--but at last the tortured soul was permitted to rest.

The governor's hand had protected the lifeless body and delivered it to His followers.

The mult.i.tude dispersed, awe-stricken by the terrible portents--the priests, pale with terror, fled to their shattered temple. Golgotha became empty. The jeers and reviling had died away, the tumult in nature had subsided--and the sacred stillness of evening brooded over those who remained. ”He has fulfilled His task--He has entered into the rest of the Father.” The drops of blood fell noiselessly from the Redeemer's heart upon the sand. Nothing was heard save the low sobbing of the women at the foot of the cross.

Then pitying love approached, and never has a paean of loyalty been sung like that which the next hour brought. The first blades were now appearing of that love whose seed has spread throughout the world!

Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus came with ladders and tools to take down the body.

Ascending, they wound about the lifeless form long bands of white linen, whose ends they flung down from the cross. These were grasped by the friends below as a counterpoise to lower it gently down. Joseph and Nicodemus now began to draw out the nails with pincers; the cracking and splintering of the wood was heard, so firm was the iron.

Mary sat on a stone, waiting resignedly, with clasped hands, for her son. ”n.o.ble men, bring me my child's body soon!” she pleaded softly.

The women spread a winding sheet at her feet to receive it.

At last the nails were drawn out and--

”Now from the rood The mighty G.o.d Men gently lowered.”

Cautiously one friend laid the loosened, rigid arms of the dead form upon the other's shoulders, that they might not fall suddenly, Joseph of Arimathea clasped the body: ”Sweet, sacred burden, rest upon my shoulders.”

He descended the ladder with it. Half carried, half lowered in the bands, the lifeless figure slides to the foot of the instrument of martyrdom.

Nicodemus extended his arms to him: ”Come, sacred corpse of my only friend, let me receive you.”

They bore Him to Mary--