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s
THE IIOTHER OF ST. XIOHOLAS.
iSA.NTA (*LAIS}.
•i
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The Mother of St. Nicholas.
(HANTA CLAm)
A Stoiy of Duty and Peril.
BY
r
!■!
GRANT BALFOUIi,
Author of -The Fairy s<-hool of Castle Frank.
\
TORONTO :
THE POOLE PRINTING COMPANY, LIMITED,
PUBLISHERS.
Entered, according to Act of th. Parliament of Canada Mn .he
year one thousand eight hundred and ninety-nine by A. Balfour
CrInt, in the office of the Minister of Agriculture.
THE MOTHER C^ ST.
NICHOLAS
(SANTA CLAUS).
C'lIAPTEU I.
WATCH IN(i FOR TIIK I'UEV.
(lo buck into the third contiiry after Christ,
travel east into the famous Mecliterranean Sea,
survey the beautiful south-west coast of Asia
Minor, and let vour eves rest on th(> eitv ot'
Patara. Look at it well. Full of life then,
dead and desolate now, the city has wonderful
associations in sacred au<l legendary lore — it
saw the great reformer of the Gentiles, and
gav{i birth to the white-haired man of
( 'hristmas joy.
Persecution had beforetime visited Patara,
in common with other ])arts of the lloman
Kmpire; and there were ominous signs, like
the first mutterings of an earthquake, that ;t
Tllli MOTHKR Ul' ST. NICHOLAS.
«iiiiilar calamity iniglit come again. The pre-
judice and malice of the common people were
dangerously !?tirred up to fight the ([uiet, ])('r-
wifltent inroads of aggressive Christianity.
The authorities, perplexed and exasperated,
were disposed to wink at assault upon individ-
ual Christians, to try them on any plausible
])retext, and to shew t\w.u\ little quarter. If
they could aiTest the ringleaders, especially
people of rank or wealth, whether men or
women, in anything wrong or strongly suspi-
cious, that they might api)ly exemplary pun-
ishment, then the irritated majority might be
satisfied, and peace in the city restored.
In a recess at the corner of a busy street,
leading towards the market place, two men
stood, waiting and watching for some particu-
lar person to pass by. They were Demonicus
and Timon, Avhose ofKce or duty was some-
thing like that of a modern detective.
Demonicus, clad in a brown chiton or tunic
reaching down to the knees, was a powerfully
built, dark man, with great bison-like sboulders
THE MOTlItR OF ST. NICHOLAS. 7
and thick neck, bristling oyebrovvs, and fierce,
covt'tous eyes. To him nothing was too peril-
ous or too mean where there was strife or tlie
i'lianc(( oi* gold. He was a wresth-r and iniglity
rtwordsnian, lie had often fought in the stad-
ium or cireiH, and his fami^ had traveUed as
far as Komc, It) whi(di lie went at last, and
jinatly distinguished himself f(»r a time.
Timon, similarly elad, was only a man of
ordinary strength; but he was lithe, self-willed
and shrewd, with a streak <d" einirtesy and
svmi)athv.
(Vimels, bullocks, lujrses, nudes and wa;;<>ns
were passing by — a picturesque train of noisy,
(histy movement on aii unpaved street — while
now and again a carriage or a litter ai)peared,
Avhose occupants were con^udered eitlie-r arro-
gant or effeminate.
"'Her carriage must iiave pasj^rd,'' said De-
mon iens savagely.
" Tt cannot l)e," replie*! Timon civilly; " the
hifly, though unfettered by custom, r;:r.'ly
takes her carriage; she usually ])asses on foot
8
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
I I
shortly after tlio iiiorniiig inoal, and I canio
hero to watoli n aiii))le time."
" Wo must arrest her to day on some pre
text or otlier," muttered Demoniciis. " I sliall
dog her steps everywhere, and if I cannot get
a good excuse T shall invent one. Tlic bribe,"
added he with an impatient gesture, " is too
tempting for more delay." ' '
Timon, though also grasping, was not heart
and soul with Demonicus. "When on the
watch alone he had had time to reflect, and his
better nature woidd now and again assert it-
self, as there stole over his vision a beautiful
figure with a noble work in hand. He wanted
the prize but was not in hot haste to win it,
and while it seemed judicious it also felt
agreeable to suggest delay. After a brief
silence he remarked —
" There is to bo a special gathering of the
Christians in the Church of the Triple Arch
to-night. The bishop is away at Myra. But
Orestes, the shepherd, is to be present, and I
promise thee somethinc; will be said that will
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
U
frive US a plausible backing; bis words are
plain, ay even bold as tbe cliffs of ^[oiint
Taurus, wbere be dwells. Sbould we not wait
till then, Demonicus? "
" I sbaU not," answered be, stamping bis
beavv, sandalled foot viciously; "it would be
our last cbance, and tbe woman migbt not be
tbere."
" Tbe lady is sure to be," rejoined Timon,
" sbe is tbe spirit of tbe wbolo movement."
Demonicus paced about reflecting, and bav-
ing cooled down, be mumbled, — "I sball see,
but I sball miss no cbance before."
Timon now steppcfl out and looked along
tbe street, tben turning immediately round
to bis companion witb a besitating, balf-
TopTctful look, be wbispered — •
" Sbe is comino;! "
Tlie face of Demonicus glowed witb an evil
flame, as be went foi^ward quickly to assure
liimself. Tbe ladv witb ber attendant, a lib-
erated female slave, was seep, approacbing on
foot, and botb men retreated iiiio tbe recess
an<l waited.
10
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
CHAPTER II.
A MINISTERING ANGEL.
Patheiiia, tlie eldest duugliter of a prosper-
ous merchant, walked with her servant ^lir-
iam through the crowded street, heedless or
unconscious of danger; then passing two pairs
of eyes directed towards her veiled face, she
turned at right angles into the Stenos, a short
quiet street loading towards the river Xanthus.
"Without haste, yet her progress was steady
and good, with a natural grace set free by the
loose Ionic dress — a cream-coloured chiion,
girdled at the waist and falling from the
shoulders to the feet in many folds, and above
it a short mantle in gold-brown, bordered with
white. Full of work of a high order, her dark
eyes and finely carved mouth spoke beneficent
purpose, while her fair countenance showed
an Oriental seriousness and thought.
Pathema migh.t have spared herself a life of
! !i
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
11
labour and risk and self-sacrifice. She mi«'-ht
have enjoyed a life of fashion and pleasure
and ease. Besides this, her beauty and accom-
plishmenta could have easily secured for her
a home and affluence, had she so desired. But
she had cast in her lot with One who had lived
a higher life, which in working-out had made
him a man of " no reputation." Pathema was
a Christian, and as such had made herself a
set of determined and malicious enemies. Her
Christianity could not be mistaken. There
was no mere form about it, no casual acts of
duty, no hysterical flights, no insipidity, and
no compromise, — the go(ts must go. It was a
clear, steady, every-day light, peeplnp- up in
childhood, and burning brighter aud brighter
thro' the years. Though a lover of knowledge
and fond of reasoning, she wasted no time in
a vain jangle about faith and works, but illus-
trated both in her daily life. Encouraged by
her parents, and acting as their medium, and
that of other benefactors, she attended to the
wants of a wide circle of sick and poor, both
12
THE MOTHER OE ST. NICHOLAS.
heatlieu and Cliristiau. Like her Lord liiiii-
sclf, slio went about doing' good. No one
cheered and eonit'orted the nienibei*s of the
Christian conuiinnity more, no one was a
greater inspiration, and no one was more un-
assuming.
On the left bank of the Xanthus stood a
large residence belonging to a nuin of weidth,
a business friend of Pathenuvs father. In
front there was no altar to Apollo Agyieus,
and no statue of any god, the owner having
distinct leanings toward Christianity. All that
met the eye was a Victor's Laurel tree. Be-
hind the house, which was much greater in
depth than width, was a garden, containing
such trees as pomegranate, orange, and lig.
To that house Pathema went. Ascending
the steps and knockiuir at the door, she was
met by a porter (with his dog), who led her
and Miriam past his lodge uid along the nar-
row passage to the first ])eristyle — a partly
open courtyard. Here they awaited tlu^ ap-
pearance of the mistress. On nil four sides
TIIK MOTHER Ol' SI. NlCllULAS.
1:3
were ('(»l()Uii;j<les, under which wui'e a Laiupict-
iiig room, a picture gaUcvy, a library, ser-
vants' ofUcc, sittiufj: rooms, ami several hed-
cliambers. The visitors liad not long to wait.
" Peace be with you!" said the mistress, with
a gracious smile.
'' Joy to thee! " was the re])ly.
Kiiteriug a chamber on the right, Pathema
was gently conducted to the bedside of ( Vito,
an invalid boy, his parents' pride and tender
care. Crito bad received a good education,
and, Avlien well, was active, witty and intelli-
gent. But he had been hurt internallv while
wrestling in the gymnasium with an older lad,
and for a time his life hung in the balance.
Several days had elapsed since Pathema saw
him, and he was now^ fast asleep. She did not
speak, but looked on him awhile with earnest
anxious eyes. At length a gleam of hope lit
up her face, and she was about to leave softly
when Crito, as if conscious of some departing
force, suddenly opened his eyes.
"Hail! Pathema; steal not thyself away,"'
said he smiling.
■■(J
1-1
14
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
'^ I steal but a gem of hope — surely a lighter
load," was the laughing answer
"And yet thou hast left it in my broast,
tliou absent-minded robber.''
Bending do*vn, Ppthema kissed liis bosom,
saying, '' And I am ^lad to leave it there."
'' And go forth Lo] '-^ss?" queried he.
"Yes," saic! he, shaKin^^ hor lioad in feigned
solemnity, and Jrito laughed.
Leaving fignros of speech, Pathema ex-
pressed her joy that there appeared to be good
ground for hope. Then they entered into an
animated conversation about the Iliad and the
Odyssey, books that the Hellenic people used
as we do Robinson Crusoe, Shakespeare, and
the Bible. Before parting they conversed
about the Memoirs of the Apostles, called in
our day the Gospels.
" I love the Nazarene's moral courage," said
Crito.
" Yes," replied Pathema, " to be invited, for
instance, to dine with a number of the learned,
and without personal provocation to feel com-
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
pcllod to denounce tlicni as hypocrites, must
lijive been a severe trial of his courage."
" It seems easier to face wounds and the \of^i
of blood than the loss of reputation," rejoined
Crito.
" It is, but, of course, the fidl test is to face
both. The applause of his comrades, of the
whole army aiul of liis nation, tires tlio spirit of
the brave soldier that climbs the frowning walls
of a besieged city; but the Nazarene had not
the applause of a single soul when He faced
the certainty of cruel death upon the cross;
worse, there was derision, and He himself
even cried out that God had forsaken Him."
'' The cross means a great deal," said Crito
reflectively.
" It was endured in love for us," was the
reply.
" The love was great," remarked the boy.
Pathema now rose up to go, and Crito was
very sorry; but he knew that there were many
other poor and tried ones waiting to welcome
her, and he urged himself to resignation.
i
I i
10
TMK MOTIlliK OV ST. NICHOLAS.
a n.
III
Coiiio buck on fhc morrow," said he,
" and stay with me longer; I weary much for
fliee."
Having kissed her hand respectfully, the
boy looked after her wistfully as she departed
like a heavenly angel.
doing next into the liumble abode of an obi
man, whoso only attendant was a littb' grand-
daughter, Pathema with her nuiid ])roceeded
at once to put the place in thorough order,
aiding the slender one with the heaviest work,
such as it was. 'I'be cdiild had alwavs done
well, but stronger anns could of course do
better, and everything vi^as soon in special
dress. Then Pathema had a comforting talk
with the grandfather and with his faithful
little servant-maid, ending by telling her a
charming tale of a Forest Nymph. Before
leaving she placed a silver coin in the old
man's trembling hand; and as she departed,
he could only say, " God bless thee," while the
child clung to her sympathetic hand for some
distance along the street.
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
17
Thus Pathema, accompanied by Iicr servant,
went from house to house a messenger of
mercy. The harvest-field of suffering and pri-
vation was then, as ever, white; but the reapers
were few, and of modern reaping instruments
— hospitals and *' homes " — there were none.
How much Christianity has done, yet how
much to do !
Partaking of a plain mid-day meal of maza,
barley bread, and figs, with a venerable
heathen widow whose heart was opening to
Christianity, she also supplied this poor one's
need, and resumed her journey refreshed.
The afternoon was well advanced when
they passed underneath the Triple Arch of the
citv wall on their wav outward to a sheltered
spot not far beyond. In a clump of olive
trees and beside a limpid spring, they came
upon a hut occupied by motherless children,
alone and unprotected, the hireling having
left the day before. Sadder still, the only one
old enough to give material help, and who
did help as long as she was able, Biona, a girl
^m
1 ; I
18
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
of twelve, was dying of con8iuii])tion. Tlio
sif^lit to Pathema was vory distrcasing, but she
attended promptly to the wantH of the sick
one, laving her face and hands, and giving
her a little nourishment, while Miriam looked
after the younger children and the house.
Biona was somewhat revived, and Pathenm
sat down beside her to whisper just a consoling
word or two at intervals. The girl expressed
her gratitudes briefly, shoAving it more in her
large, hollow but brilliant eyes, which rested
for a time in peace on her visitor's tender face.
Tiio peace was of short duration, for Biona was
very feeble. She moved her head and hands
uneasily in the hot air of the little room, and
at last exclaimed in a low plaintive voice —
"Oh! for breath and rest, rest."
" Let me carry thee out, my dear, as thy
father does, and lay thee among the olive
trees," said Pathema, feeling keenly, while
she held the invalid's thin, white hand bearing
the marks of toil.
" Thou art not able," replied Biona huskily,
THE MOTIIKR Ul- ST. NICHOLAS.
I'J
nn<l witli grateful tears, adMiii^ to licrsclf in a
<In'aiiiy wliis|)('r — " My father, poor lather! "
Hilt J*atheina was wirv and en.hn'iiiyr, easilv
tit, l'«)r the fragih' l)ur(len, and having hy a
word ])erHuaded the siitferer she wrapped lier
in a h>ng whiti^ rliifon, and carried lier with
great temh^rness out into the cooler welcome
air, beside the refreshing spring.
*' How deiightfid is rest!" said the dying
girl, as she gazed uj) through the oiivr
hranclies into the clear blue skv.
" 'IMiere is abundance of rest in store, my
beloved, even the rest that remaineth for the
])eople of (jod."
Biona lay ([luetly, enjoying a measure of
])eace. lier i)et white dove, flying from an
overhanging branch, came down beside her;
it hopped n])on the ])illow, and with gentle
wing softly brushed her ])allid cheek. She
turned lier head toward it, and gazing fondly
n])on the affectionate creature, forgot her
weariness for a time — a little time. Then she
began to move her head restlessly, whispering
W:
J.' "
! i
20
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
HI I
1)1
f :<
often and witli yeurning look the word futlior.
Tho watchful nttondant changed the \soary
one's position, and gave her rest again. This
was done as often as it was needed, and the
need had no end. Pathcnia prayed earnestly
for tho sufferer's recovery or release. Her
voice was tlie heart's melody, soft and sooth-
ing, if to soothe were possible.
Tho father, a big sympathetic man, had by
this time reached the bordering olive trees,
on his way liome from a brief search for
aid. His clothing was very simple and plain:
a dark exomis (a short sleeveless frock), and
shoes of leather, studded with nails. As was
common, ho was bareheaded. He liad a melan-
choly foreboding that calamity was near at
hand. His oxen stood idle in their stall from
early morning. Noticing with surprised re-
lief that his child was already out in the grove,
with some merciful one reclining by her side,
he stole up a little nearer and halted unob-
(trved.
''Oh! for rest, rest," his daughter faintly
fii »
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
i>1
cried; ami the strong man .sho()k witli emotion.
" Oh I tliat I miglit hv at roflt!" slit' cried ugain,
as if a larit fcehlo effort, *' Init how liard it is,
how hardi to Icavrmv little Itrotlic is and mv poor
lonely father."
(Jreepin^ (loser, Pathema raised Biona's
weary head and placed it tenderly in her own
bosom. Keeling that the spark of life was l(»w
(for \\w little hands were getting e(d<l), and
that words were unavailing, she closed her
eyes and became absorbed in silent prayer.
A little interval and then, with pleading
face, the simple words of the child —
" Father in heaven, take into thy kind care
my father and brothers;"
And then, with a peaceful smile — •
"Oh mother, I come!" i
The father came fonvard delicatelv and
<
softlv behind and looked down, hi.^ eves full
of tears. The child raised her languid eyes
and smiled, a strange, yearning heavenly
smile; then she drew a deep breath and fell
asleep — her rest, the long last rest, had come.
'I' I
22
THE MUTUER OF ST. \1CT1UI-AS.
Let the veil be drawn tondcrlv over tlie
poor father's son'ow. It is sufticieiit to say
that everything was done for his beloved one
and his home that could be done before
Pathema and her faithful servant left. The
mourner's gratitude, deep and full, was tiu?ir
comfort and reward.
" J\ly mistress," said Miriam, in an entreat-
ing respectful voice as they turned towards
the city in weary sad silence, '' thou art much
in need of rest; wilt thou not proceed home,
for the gathering of our people will be well-
nigh broken up ere we pass hyV Miriam was
wise and good, she loved her mistress fer-
vently, and was trusted and treated as a com-
panion, not as a liberated slave.
" We pass the door, my Miriam, and it
would be a rest to turn aside and listen to the
life-giving Word," answered Pathema, look-
ing tenderly into the devoted woman's tired
face; "yet for thy sake, thy needful release,
I shall go on with thee."
" No, my misti'css, no, — thy desire is good
and right."
I :i
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
23
The Church of the Triple Arch was not far
away, and the two plodded patiently and trust-
fully back into the city, thinking not of any
danger that might come. Their day's work
was done — hard and heart-trying, yet beauti-
ful, and as an exercise of mercy, beneficial to
subject as well as object, for '^ there is that
scattereth and yet increaseth." Good were
it for the world if all mankind did their pos-
sible and necessary share. The moon shone
high and clear in the star-lit temple of the
sky. The night was calm, and nothing
broke the stillness save the discordant, mock-
ing cry of a laughing hyena far behind,
with an occasional, distant shout rising from
the city in front. As they emerged from the
olive-grove, the pet white dove, pursued by a
swift-winged night-hawk, swept like an aiTow
across their track, as if an omen of coming
trouble.
IE
24
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
CHAPTEK III.
STILL ON THE WATCH.
Demonicus and Timon stood at the open
door of the Christian church, not far from the
Triple Arch of the city wall, listening to the
voice of the shepherd Orestes, and eagerly
watching for something whereby they might
seize him and certain others. But Demonicus,
sycophantes,constahlef and gladiator all in one,
was irritated, for the prize had not yet arrived ;
and as the time sped on, his tiger-nature ex-
hibited itself in low growls at his calmer
companion.
" Another day," snarled he, " and the case
will have turned into other hands."
" I do not despair," replied Timon, " and
yet, to be frank, I almost repent — it seems a
shame to lay hands on such a woman."
" Art thou, my brave Timon, also becoming
a meek and beautiful Christian?" said Demon-
icus with a sneer.
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
25
Annoyed at the tone, Timon answered finn-
ly — " The lady's life is a blessing to Patara."
" Soft one, weak one, coward ! " hissed
Demonicus. ,
"The lady is a goddess!" cried Timon,
galled into defiance, " and the coward is he
that would lay foul hands upon her."
"Draw! defend thyself!" roared Demon-
icus, and the two men faced each other with
drawn swords and glaring eyes.
At this juncture, Pathema and Miriam ap-
peared upon the scene, and without hesitation
the former gently and earnestly entreated
them not to slay one another. As if by
mutual consent, the enraged men lowered
their sword-points and turned them into the
sheaths. Demonicus Avas agreeably surprised
and he cooled down quickly — before him after
all was the trophy wanted. Timon did not want
it — the lady's voice and courage strengthened
his heart's bent in the right course, and he
quietly walked away. Demonicus stepped aside;
even his rough heart could be moved to a cer-
f-
26
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
tain degTee of respect, while Pathema, pale
and sad, walked noiselessly into the church
and sat down with Miriam in the nearest
empty seat.
The shepherd had finished with his earne«t
simple story of redemption, illustrating it l>y
reference to what he knew so well — the spot-
[ less, passive lamb. He was now telling the
attentive listeners that the lamb would one
day become a lion, that all human govern-
ments would be broken in nieces, and that
Jesus Christ would rule the earth in righteous-
ness and peace. " It may be," added he with
emphasis, " that that hope-inspiring day is at
hand!"
Revolutionary doctrine like this the debased
Demonicus rejoiced to hear. Like the Jewish
pretence before Pilate, it was enough, and the
love of lucre spurred him on. He waited not
a moment more, but hurried boldly into the
church. Accusing Pathema of taking part in
sedition, he seized her by the arm and ordered
her to rise up and follow him.
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
27
Startled at this interruption, the people
looked round, while Orestes stopped and
made his way swiftly to Pathenia's aid, think-
ing in all simplicity that a robber or a mad-
man had entered the church. The gladiator
was strong, but the shepherd was stronger,
and ere the former could draw his sword he
was pinned to the floor as with an oaken hand.
The spectacle was like the grappling of pros-
trate giants.
" Thou art guilty of sedition and violence!"
yelled Demonicus.
Others of his official order passing by and
hearing the noise, came quickly to his aid,
the accusation was repeated, ancl the shepherd
meekly submitted — he never meant to defy
the law.
Miriam pleaded for her beloved mistress in
tears, but she was rudely thrust aside as too
insignificant for arrest.
Then were Pathema and Orestes and others
led out of the church and into the street.
They formed a silent, little company, sur-
i I
1
28
THE MOTHEV. OF ST. NICHOLAS.
. i
rounded and followed by an excited jeering
crowd. And as the crowd increased in
strength — " Death to the detested Chris-
tians!" was the noisy frequent .ry.
With bowed head and weary heart, and
with her sense of modesty painfully shocked,
Pathema passed on with her fellow-Christians
to the humiliating place of safe-keeping for
the night.
Their trial came oif next day, but it was a
mockery. Fanatical hate and bribery did
their foul work — there was no justice what-
ever, and sentence of death was pasvsed !
An appeal was made to Rome.
To that great city Pathema and her fellow
prisoners were finally transported, and thoro
they were imprisoned.
Among the poor and sick and dying of
Patara and its neighbourhood, was no one
more missed and mourned than the compas-
sionate maiden who languished and wept in a
far away Boman prison — wept, not so much
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
29
for her own wrongs, as for the griefs and pains
of others.
" Lord, I cry to Thee—
Unending night, a mournful robe,
Enwraps my form, and veils my sight
From flower, and stream, and all I love —
IMy bondage break, O God I
" If I no more behold
^ly Crito, Lord, on him look down
With watchful eye, and send Thy light,
Restore his strength, and make him Thine ;
Regard my love for him.
■' Biona's tender care
Provide for. Lord, and guard from ill ;
The father's wound, in pity heal.
Remember all the desolate
For whom I weep and pray.
" My parents, Lord, uphold ;
Their grief assuage ; Thy Spirit send
And teach of Him who suffered more
Than mortal man, to nmsom me
From death — the Christ, my strength.
" Yet, Lord, how hard to die
So soon. Oh ! to behold the sun,
To breathe the air, to clasp the flowers.
Embrace my 'loved, now loved t^^nfold ;
But, Lord, Thy will be done ! "
H^ I
f i
THE MUTIIER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
CHAPTER lY.
THE AMPHITHEATRE.
The ColosseiHu or aiupliitlieatro in lloino
was a gigantic, costly building, oval in shape,
IGO feet in lieight, 1900 feet in circnmfer-
ence, and capable of seating 100,000 specta-
tors — a huge egg laid by Imperial power and
demoniac love of pleasure. Its external wall
rose up in three rows of columns, Doric, Ionic
and Corinthian, forming 80 arcades or arches
in each row, and was capped by a solid wall
with Corinthian pilasters and small square win-
dows. Thea'e was no roof, shelter from sun or
rain being given by a movable awning calk'd
the velarium. The higher arcades were adorned
with statues and chariots, and admitted light
and air. Four of the basement arches at the
extremities were the entrances for the great,
while the remaining seventy-six were for the
common people. Rising from the top of a low
wall or balcony that stood on the ground many
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
31
feet inward, was the qradus or slope of seats,
which extended lialf-vvay up the liigh sur-
rounding shell. The highest seats were a
colonnade or portico reserved for women.
On the slope under the portico, were the three
maeniana or galleries, separated by walls and
by landing places for the many staircases.
The uppermost gallery, with benches of wood,
was for the pullati or common people; the next
below, for the popular ia; and the farthest
down, of stone or marble and cushioned, for
membei*8 of the equestrian order. Below this
was the inner wall or balcony (referred to
above), called the podium, the place of honour,
on which sat the Emperor and his family,
senators, chief magistrates, vestal virgins, and
distinguished visitors. The Emperor occupied
a pavilion, named the suggest us, while the
others sat on cushioned chairs or reclined on
couches. The podium was about 15 feet from
the ground, its edge bordered with metal trel-
lis work, and its front faced with marble, to
prevent the ascent of wild beasts v/hon f'ight-
32
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
iiiCi
i
ened or enraged. The arena was the immense
space within, being about 281 feet by 176,
and it was covered with sand, to keep tlie com-
batants from slipping and to absorb their
blood. Here some of the martyrs of Jesus
poured out their life, to gratify horrible curi-
osity, and to satiate the hunger of lions.
On a certain day in the latter half of the
third century after Christ, and while the pagan
lioman empire still held powerful sway, many
thousands of people had assembled in the
amphitheatre to witness a series of blood-curd-
ling sights and combats. Among these sad
spectacles was the suffering of a noted Chris-
tian from the rugged province of Lycia.
Demonicus, the great gladiator of Patara
city, had fallen, his left cheek was embedded
in the sand, his brawny upper arm lay out
limp beside his broken sword, and his life-
blood was streaming away. He would indulge
in the love of strife and watch the footsteps
of the innocent for glittering gold no more.
His conqueror, Telassar, a big bearded warrior
Tllli MOTHKR OF ST. NICHOLAS.
33
l'n»in IJIi:i(liii, s(o<mI crrct and i»rou(l, with his
rijiht loot oil tho gladiator's neck, and drink-
ing in tlio aj)i)hnirto that flowod from the eu
circling host of sensation-loving, heartless
spectators.
After a fierce jind prolonged l)attle, several
otiier ghuliijtors had plonghed th(^ sand i:i
strange qniek succession. J fere, face down-
ward, Avas a Samnito with his oblong shield;
yonder lay a bare headed reiiarius with his
net and three-pointed lance. Twenty feet
from Deinonicns, a horseman clad in cuirass
and helmet was stretched upon his back
wounded and dying, with his round shield
and lance lying near. His handsom(? black
charger had instantly wheeled round, and it
now stood over him with lowered neck in
beautiful faithfulness, a tribute to its master's
care and kindness. The other combatants
were being hooked and drawn away like logs
into the spoUarium, the grim receptacle for
slaughtered men; the expiring horseman's
turn would soon come. His rival had also
'!: ii
iii! 'i
34
Tlin MOTIIKU ()!• ST. NICHOLAS.
reeled jiiwl tumlded down, the. result «d' ex-
liuustioii from a se\ere wound received earlier
ill the t'rav. Aidecl hy an otlieial cuIUmI ti
hniiifla, the victor's .'^tniggles to rise up .ui<l,
when risen, to kee|) on his feet, were pitiahie
in the extreme. Deprived of its rider, his
spirited grey horse, itself slightly wounded,
was bonnding round the arena like a fright-
eiU'd antelope. And considering that there
was a circumference of UOO feet in whicii to
galop and wheel, it gave its pursuers no small
degree of troid)le.
This state of affairs, cou])le<l with the usual
breathing time before the next act in the
tragic drama, allowed the horde of onlookers
an opportunity for a little conversation and
even merriment. In the presence of such
horrifying sport with human life, the heathen
heart revealed its kinshi}) with the fallen an-
gels of " Paradise Ix^t." Nevertheless in that
Roman pandemonium there were exceptions — •
a few hearts of a different cast, in which was
at work a silent influence, destined iu regal
hands to reform the world.
wr
m
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
35
niAPTER V. »
THE INFLUENCE WORKING.
ITp in tho col(jnnnfle reserved for women
were two Greek ladies, natives of Asia Minor:
Myrtis, a matron of hip^li rank, and her youn^
friend Coryna, a maiden of medium liel^dit
and of perfect mould, with a wealth of l>rai(le<l
auburn hair. The matron wore a stola, a loiif^
tunic girded in broad folds under the breust,
and a white palla, a wide upper garment, Loose-
ly over her shoulders. Iler companion had a
white robe with a broad purple horde.', ami
over it an azure palla covered with golden
stars. Both ladies had refined feelings and
elegant manners. They were in the Colo.i-
seiun for the first time.
" What dost thou think of all this, njy
Myrtis?" enquired Coryna, with a marked
expression of pain in her sympathetic coun-
tenance.
" Think," answered Myrtis, striving to re-
press her agitation; "in the dexterity of the
i,
86
TllK MUTllEK OF ST. NlCilULAS.
If I
t'(nul)alnnts I liad a gruesome iiiteivbt, Liit
upon tlic prostrate, dying men I cannot look";
and tlie stout but comely woman of tender
i'eeling tnrned her fair liead fartlier away
from the ghastly siglil below.
" It in horrible," remarked Coryna, casting
a fnrtivo ghiiice into tlie arena.
'' I cannot remain," said Myrtis, " bnt what
woidd Titaniis say? " and she glanced down
over the intervening galleries to the podium,
where her illustrious Roman husband sat.
Beside him was Coryna's brother, Tharsos,
a distinguished young oificer, wearing a toga,
with a white lacerna or mantle of ehgant
forni.
Behind Titanus stood his young son, Car-
nion, a raven-haired boy of twelve, dressed in
the toga praetexta, a becoming garment of
white with a wide edge of purple, and sus-
pended from his neck the bulla, a round orna-
ment of gold, worn especially by the children
of the noble. He held in his hand a cluster
of lilies, a little gift meant for Coryna, but
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
o i
whieli he had forgotten to hand over wlicii
entering the amphitheatre.
"See how Camion is disturbed!" observed
Coryna; "the dear boy tunis away his head
and will not look at the expiring horseman
right nnderiieath."
The mother saw her child's attitude with
pleased eyes, indeed they were often on him.
" Though tender-hearted, yet my Carnion is
brave and strong," said she with a smile of
pride.
" He is a soldier, every bit of him," added
Coryna. "How different from his elder
brother, Dinarchus!"
"Yes, my Dinarchus is a great reader, a
young philosopher, a hermit, dear boy. He
is now deep in the study of the Christian
books. I would my Carnion were at home
with him to-day, but he expected to see a
wild-beast fight."
"Observe thy husbaud and my brother —
see how calmly they look on!"
t :!
%
38
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
*' They are soldiers, Coryna, and accus-
tomed as we know to the spectacle of wounds
and blood. To them, the arena must be as
nothing to a field of battle when the clash of
sword and spear is past."
" Oh, it must be racking, revolting! " ex-
claimed the other, ])ained at the mental vision
of mangled heaps of slain ; " and our beloved
ones hate the sight."
•" They also dislike what they see before
them," said Myrtis. '' They love skill, but
they have no love for wanton play with human
life."
" I wish all Rome hated such idle butchery,"
remarked Coryna earnestly, but rather loudly.
Overhearing these remarks, spoken in the
Latin tongue, a number of ladies sneered and
smiled. All, or nearly all, who made that
wide investing teiTace a wreath of brightness
and beauty, were dead to pity. At the most
they could only feel regret for a wounded
favorite or a dying hero.
!i'i
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
30
11' ■
" I would all the empire were of thy minJ,
Coryna, and then no such sad spectacle would
stain our own beloved, hunianer land.
" Christianity is the deadly enemy of all
this wicked work. May it prosper!" said the
young lady fervently.
" There are no Christians here, I venture
to say, civil or military," responded Myrtis.
" No follower of the humane Jesus would
come within these walls, unless wnmged and
led, or bent on some heroic deed. But wo
worshippers of a hundred gods can tliank o\;r
divinities for no good influence. I hate the
gods: may they forgive me! " and the reflec-
tive lady smiled at her own bold scepticism.
" They are myths, so my brother says,"
added Coryna, with a look of decision and re-
lief.
'^ Tharsos is almost a Christian," remarked
Myrtis, " and with him I strongly sympathize."
" He is. But see, 1 is u'.Iing thy hiisbind
something, and look how earnesJy Cariilon
watches his words. Of a surety something
(■;■
w*<»*
f^tt
P1,.1'J',
1
I
40
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
I!:|r
Strange or startling is going to present itself
next. The uncertainty about the time of the
Christian's appearance must be removed, but
my brother's signal will tell."
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
41
CHAPTER VI.
THE INDIGNATION OF TIIARSOS.
Tharsos was speaking with deep but sup-
pressed feeling.
" I have heard of tlie maiden," he contin-
ued, and have seen her in my native province.
Her good deeds to the poor and the suffering
have been countless. Her whole life has been
work and pity and self-sacrifice. It repre-
sents the highest moral beauty."
" Strange," remarked Titanus sympathetic-
ally, "that the maiden has held up under
prison life so long."
" Though meek and modest," replied Thar-
sos, " she possesses a fortitude that bears in-
credible strain. I almost believe, indeed I do
believe, that her power must come from Him
whom they call Jesus of Nazareth."
" Our laws are evil," said Titanus reflec-
tively, " or such a woman would have known
no strain but daily duty. But thou art be-
42
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
coming Cliristian, Tharsos, yet T do not re-
proach thee — it were good if all men were."
At this stage the riderless steed kicked a
pursuing guard on the palm of his uplit'tcd
hand, raised in self defence, and the specta-
tors laughed heartily. Camion's attention
was diverted for a little from the serious con-
versation, and he stepped a few feet away.
"'Evil,' didst thou sav! Our heathen sys-
tem is corrupt and cursed, an only too ready
tool of ignorant malice. For no other reason
could the enemies of the accomplished maiden
lead her into this arena " ; and Tharsos writhed
under the thought that justified his grave
charge.
Titanus was astonished to see a man so loyal
and reflective, and hitherto so quiet and self-
possessed, now quivering with indignation.
" Be tranquil, my friend, thou canst not
mend matters, and thou hast done thy duty.
Hast thou not told me of thy hastening to tho
Praefect to plead for postponement or release,
and that this dignitary had already gone to the
'
\
V L
11
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
48
Colosseum, with all of the lesser magistrates
who had any possible power?"
" I would that I had received the tidings
earlier," was the answer, spoken in a low tone
of deep sadness, even despair.
" Content thee, my dear Tharsos, thou hast
done thy best; and strive to think that speedy
death, even if cruel and revolting, is better
than prolonged prison-hardship and degi-ada-
tion."
Tharsos turned and looked up at the serried
mass of living faces behind him, his indigna-
tion now controlled, yet he saw no one — none
but the beautiful face of his affectionate sister
whom he warmly loved ; and there flashed into
his heart — "What if she were the victim!"
His colour changed and his lips tightened.
Some strange thought seemed to enter him,
and he arose from his seat.
*' Thou wilt, of coui-se, wait and see the
maiden?" said Titanus with a perplexed in-
quiring look.
But Tharsos stood up to his full height.
44
THE M
. OF ST. NICHOLAS.
1^
and cast one ..^tlierinf*' look towards Titaniis,
as inncli as if to say — '"AVIiat, witness the
Imtcliery of one lik(^ niv own sister! " Turn-
ing hanii'litily on Lis lied, lie strode two steps
back to tlie staircase, muttering something in
which there was the distinct word Lion, and
in a moment he was down and out of view.
'JIIK AruTIU'k OK ST. NICHOLAS.
45
ClJArTEU Vll.
Tin: PFaU'LKXITY of CARNION-.
Amidst the laughter and tlio babel of voices,
Ciii'iiiou's quick ear caup^lit tlio magic word
- — Lion !
Turning round into Lis fornu'r ])bice, " Is
there a lion coming at last, my lather? " lie
asked eagerly, while his dark eyes sparkled
with emotion.
" Yes, my son."
" I am very sorry that Tharsos has gone,"
remarked the boy, looking at the vomitory
(opening) of the staircase.
"He had, he was — rather, he preferred to
go; perhaps it is better," said Titanus with a
troubled absent look.
" What kind of lion is coming father? " en-
quired Camion, his chief interest being in
that direction.
" A great lion from Libya, my son, a beast
fierce and hungry."
46
THE MotHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
I
" And with what beasts is it going to fight?
Will tliey be wild-boars, or bears, or tigei-a,
or elephants? How I should love to see a big
battle among them all! Tell me, father, what
are the beasts to be." And the beautiful l)oy
fairlv shook with excitement.
u
'\\w fatlier did not speak for a moment. His
brows lowered over large brown eves, a crim-
son wave of shame and anger swept over his
handsome face, followed by a subduing wave
ot' pity, and then he s})oke in a tone that sur-
prised the ardent boy.
" (^amion," said he, '^ there is little likeli-
hood that the lion will have anything to light
with."
" Why not, father? " asked the boy, feeling
quite disappointed. " Will it only go round
the ai-ena and roar? "
" Were that all, Uiy son, I should be ex-
ceedingly glad."
The boy was perplexed:-;-" What dost thou
mean, father? "
"I mean, my son, that the lion is to find
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
47
its prey in the form of a clcfenceless virtuous
\vonian
r'
Tho boy -WHS amazed ami liis eyes were
l)iercing. " My father," said he tronudously,
'' is it the lady Tharsos spoke of? "
'' Yes, Cariiif>n."
" Oh father, liow eruel t " exelaimed the
hoy in gTeat distress. " Will iiohody fi^ht for
her and save her? "
" If any man be found bold enough to face
the most formidable brute that ever sprang
into the arena — that, and that onlv may save
her," answered 1'itanus. " J^ut the conditions
are hard, so hard that I may say the case is
well-nigh hopeless, and the man that would
undertake it would either be a fool, impelled
bv inordinate greed, or filled with god-like self-
sacrifice. Neither shield, nor spear, nor sword
— nothing but a bronze dagger is to be al-
lowed her defender, should one come forward'
and he is to be naked but for a slight girdle
around his loins.
) i.;
48
THE MUTIILR OF ST. NICHOLAS.
" Is tliero no man compel led to li^lit, oli
father? "
" No ono, my son. Tlic defence is voluntary.
Botli Demonicns and Ttdassar volnteere<l ;
the former is dead, and 1 fear the latter will
back out. Wlio else would venture, I know
not."
*' Fatli(>r," .said the boy, in a trend)lin^' tone,
yet with a rin«]^ of ])nrposc in it, " wilt thou
permit my absence for a little time? "
'^ Certainly, my son: it was in my mouth to
bid thee look into the street for a little time;
or if thy desire be to speak a word with
mother thou may est, but tell my name to
the designator (seat-attendant). ' Titanus ' is
enough."
C^arnion disappeared.
THE MOTHliR OF ST. NICHOLAS.
41)
ClIArTEU VIII.
WAITING FOR THK VICTIM.
On tho departuTi of Tharsos, Mjrtls Had
turned tiiid said —
" Tliy brotliL'r's signal, as thou hast told me,
Coryna. Cornel let us go."
" It is, but — not yet, dear Myrtis," was the
answer in a voice of gentle firmness.
" And in the face of thy brother's strong
desire thou art waiting to witness tho foul tor-
ture and death of a lady refined and good —
our fellow-countrywoman tool "
"I shall not behold that," replied the
maiden with earnest, hopeful light in her dark
hazel eyes: " some brave man will appear; but
if not, then I shall turn my back or fly when "
— She dared not finish, and Myrtis added —
" When the lion springs. Oh ! my Coryna,
let us go. This is the work of demons."
" I cannot, Myrtis, I cannot. I shall know
the end sooner here."
50
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
" There can be but one end, my dear. The
cruel crafty managers, bribed to get rid of the
maiden without more delay, as Tharsos in-
formed thee, planned this well. What man
with a mere dagger could slay a lion? A
naked man too. Coryna, the whole work is
contemptible, contemptible! " And the deep
blue eyes of Myrtis flashed forth her scorn,
as she looked down into the arena and scanned
it swiftly round till her attention rested anx-
iously at the eastern end.
" The Romans love effect," Coryna <an-
swered bitterly, as she unconsciously twisted
her long gold necklace around her thumb. —
" The solitary fight will be a striking contrast
to the battle that has been."
" There will be no fight, my dear. Who
would take such a risk for a woman, a Chris-
tian too? But I shall wait with thee, Coryna,
and get a glimpse of the poor maiden, and let
us hope that her God will help her."
Coryna did not speak, but her expressive
face told her gratitude and hope.
I
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
51
Tlio conversation was stopped by the loud
blast of trumpets, indicating tliat another
uwful act was to begin; and the great hnni of
voices ceased. The sand was clear of every-
thing, as if a bare, vast, oval table, and all faces
were turned toward the eastern extremity of
the arena, morbidly hungering for more scenes
of skill and blood. , .
-^ ^)
' 1
I
52
THE iMOTlIER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
CHAPTER IX.
,U:
IN THE ARENA.
Patlioma was taken from prison, wlicre she
had been shut up for a long time; and the
officer in charge was about to open a small
door into the arena to lead her in, when a
dark-haired boy, the son of illustrious pa ents,
came forward with tears streaming down his
noble face, and presented her with a cluster of
white lilies. Accepting the flowers speech-
lessly but gracefully, the doomed maiden
bent down with a full heart and kissed him.
The lilies reminded her of Him who was made
perfect thiough sufl'ering, and they gave her
renewed strength.
" Thy name, my darling? "
" Carnion," was the answer, broken and
low.
Stooping down, Pathema put a gentle
trembling arm around the boy and kissing
him again, she said —
^ i
n
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
5a
" My lovely one, God bless tlice! "
The guard in uniform opened the door and
led the innocent victim into tlie great arena.
" The maiden comes: see, yonder," said
Coryna, looking intently towards her.
Myrtis spoke not, but strained her eyes to
see.
The Glu'stian maiden approached slowly in
charge of the guard till she was placed in front
of the pavilion where sat the emperor, clothed
in a purple robe and on his head a laurel
crown. Leaving her there, the guard with-
drew without delay that the keeper might
unbar a heavy iron gate for the wild beast
to enter in and devoxir.
Pathema stood alone, a graceful form in
flowing garments, within those spacious walls.
Clothed in mockery in the white robe of a
vestal virgin, yet she was a chaste virgin of
Jesus Christ. Bound -with a white fillet, her
rich black hair, of lavish length, lay back in
glistening waves. Her soft dark eyes were
modestly towards the ground; once only wore
1-- *
i
54
THE AIOTIIEK OF ST. NICHOLAS.
1] I
: 1.
If
ii
they raised, and tlien to a purer region than
earth. Her face was pale and worn but emi-
nently beautiful, with the light of heaven on
her thoughtful brow. All around, thousands
upon thousands of human eyes, gazing with
inhumane curiosity, were an abashing and dis-
turbing sight themselves. But with the soli-
tary object of their gaze, the flow of mental
energy was smoothly but strongly and con-
sumingly in the channel of the spiritual emo-
tions. The hidden struggle with conflicting
streams of feeling was all gone through in
the bitterness and supplications of the dun-
geon. The agony was past, and Pathema was
resigned.
" That sad sweet countenance entrances
me," said Myrtis, deeply moved. " Oh Cor-
yna, I go, and yet I cannot! Whence that
light and peace? "
Coryna replied not, for she could not. But
from among the pullati or poor people, im-
mediately below, an answer of a kind came.
It was in the subdued voice of a shepherd from
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
65
,•!
the mountains of Lycia. Orestes had nimbly
escaped while Pathema was bein^ removed
from the prison not long before; but at the
risk of recapture he had entered the amphi-
theatre, determined, like Peter, to see the end,
not out of curiosity but of Christian love,
hoping against hope. He sat at the end of a
seat near one of the vomitoria or doors of eu-
trance from the internal lobbies in the shell
of the building. Although his garb was soiled
and worn, his face was thoughtful, humane
and resolute, like the rugged rocks of Taurus.
His remarks were not intended for other ears,
but were the half-audible, broken sentences
of an intense mind.
''Listen!" said Coryna, recovering herself,
" he speaks in our own tongue; and they heard
such expressions as —
" The peace of God, which passeth all under-
standing. Enduring — enduring! Life is but
a fleeting breath at best. Corrupt — corrupt!
Is not this foul spectacle around her the
proof? She would not live for a human name
•^
5G
THE MOTHEK OF ST. NICHOLAS.
'
^
ll^i
II: ; ;
II
(
— worthless from tlio low- vie wed multitude —
nor for pleasure, nor for mere living, at the
price of loyalty to Christ. Yet she would
live — live that she might humbly aid these
people to rise up from the pit of tho sensual
savage mind — into the light, the glorious
light. But she is rejected and despised. Like
her Master, she must be sacrificed — in cruelty
and shame. If it be possible, let this cup pass
from her, I beseech Thee, O God I"
Patliema knew not that in tlie vast multi-
tude above there was one — her fellow country-
man and co-worker, the humble shepherd of
mount Taurus — pleading for her life with all
the intensity of agonising pity. To her, mercy
was a stranger within those living walls, yet
with meekly bended head in steadfast trust
she stood, bearing her awful cross in the foot-
prints of the Xazarene. _
^'
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
57
CHAPTER X.
THE LION.
Tlie great iron gate was opened up. Into
the arena proudly leaped a glowing-eyed
gigantic brute, with tawny coat and heavy
niane, the hungry king of the forest.
All eyes were directed towards him, but
Pathema moved not.
" N^ow may her God help her!" exclaimed
Myrtis, bending her head and burying her
face in her hands ; but unable to bear the
strain, she rose up and left, leaving her com-
panion absorbed and pained, and her husband
down on the podium, transfixed yet ashamed.
1*^0 wild-beast fighter having appeared — no
one to gratify the craving for excitement — a
great hum of disappointment soon ascended
and rolled round the amphitheatre.
The lion raised his ma^ive head as if in
defiance, and uttered a mighty, vibrant roar.
The hum of voices stopped.
i
'•i
58
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
Patheina's heart trembled in the balance, as
a topmast twig bo fore the fii*st breath of dark-
ening storm. The mere finite fabric would
surely have given way. But if the tremor
lasted in varying degree, hesitation had
perched for a moment only. Prolonged habit,
woven in as metal cord, called forth the virtue
told in the oft-read words — " What time I am
afraid, I will trust in thee." Strengthened
from above, she calmly turned her head and,
as if also in defiance, fixed her eyes full upon
the distant savage brute.
The hungry lion saw the human form — ah!
tliis was strange choice game. He trod for-
ward with swaying tail he crept — he
crouched low — he would soc ^^pring — and
that fair image of the divine would be stinick
down, torn asunder, bled and crunched in
pieces
Was there no eye to pity, none to save?
" Oh that I were a soldier, a gladiator, —
no, just a man, a man!" said Coryna from the
depth of a throbbing heart, "then would I
rush to the rescue and save her or die I "
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
59
The shepherd could not stand the sight, and
as he rose to go away his face was ghastly
white. As he turned with vacant eyes to walk
up the scalaria or steps to the door in the
halteus or wall bchhid, a voice at his elbow
said in the Greeli language —
"Here! take this true dagger, friend."
" Why i " replied the shepherd, looking be-
wildered.
" Dost thou not know the tenns?" answered
the Greek.
" I am a stranger. What terms? " Orestes
asked eagerly.
" Oh, I thought thou hadst resolved to go
to the woman's aid," replied the man, dis-
appointed.
" Give me the dagger," said the shepherd,
a red flush rushing into his cheek. He had
now ^rasped the situation at a glance, and
seizing the weapon without ceremony or fur-
ther word, he sprang up three or four steps
and passed through the vomitory of the wall
to the stairs leading down to the lower part of
the building.
60
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
I !
Coryna heard and saw with joy, but with
the racking pain of suspense, for the shepherd
might be — (she dared not think it) would
likely be — too late !
There was a brief, awful lull.
The lion would not leap while those calm
heavenly eyes shone full upon him, and he
would not as long aa they retained strength-
But if Pathoma's head would bow down or
turn aside, or if her vital force would go, and
it could not last long, there would then be the
sure and fatal spring.
During this critical pause, Carnion returned.
He gave a half-expectant, eager glance down
into the arena. Had there been a mere wild-
beast battle — had the lion been face to face
with an Indian tiger, the sight to the boy
would naturally have been grand ; but now
it was perplexing and sore. He saw his
thread-like hope of rescue broken — the mon-
ster glared upon a frail beautiful woman, and,
as yet, there was no man. Turning aside, he
bent his head on the back of the young officer's
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
01
empty chair, and hid his tearful eyes, saying
to himself doFpnirinply—
" Will no bravo man come, before it is too
late?"
G2
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
i
OTArXER XT.
THE MAN WITH THE nAflCEK.
Another door opened np with n sudden
bnng, and beliold! a fair-haired youth, ahnost
naked, and anned with a simple da^^fijer,
stepped bohlly into the arena. A great shout
went up from tlio spectators, as, witlio\it tlie
least delay, ho ran forward and stood between
the lion and its intended victim.
Coryna p^ave the would-be deliverer one
bewildered, piercing glance, then instantly
lowering her head she hid a face of death-like
whiteness in hands clammy with a cold per-
spiration.
" Father, father, dost thou not know him? "
cried Carnion, startled up with the bang and
the shout, and quivering with mingled grief
and joy.
Titanus, never without a feeble ray of hope,
was yet thunderstruck when the combatant's
identity dawned upon him; and though filled
with admiration, he was visibly troubled.
The brave youth below stood erect and
li
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
03
resolute, while the heast, disconcerted witli tlic
shout and the sudden check, rested back flat
upon itH lin»l)H and belly, liiko David of old
when facing the giant, the young man <ain(!
forward trusting in the God of Israel.
"Who is that courageous lut foolhardy
venturer? " enquired the emperor.
" Tharsos, of the praetorian guard, sov-
ereign."
" One of my noblest and wealthiest ofticcrH!"
exclaimed the emperor; "yet let him go — Ik;
tends towards the detested Christians," added
he haughtily.
Servilius, the pagan confidant of the em-
peror, but the enemy of Tharsos, was secretly
delighted. " We shall soon get rid of him,
and Emerentia will be mine," said he to him-
self, as he leaned over to take a satisfied, last
look at the self-sacrificing nobleman below,
Pathema was struck with amazement, but
inexpressibly grieved to think that the fair
form of her defender would be speedily felled
to the earth, and mangled, and devoured!
I
i-M
h ;
i
I
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
Tharsos did not stand on tlie defensive: lie
took the first step to battle; and the people
gave a deafening shout of approval. He
moved towards the formidable lion with slow
but firm tread. The mysterious light of the
steadfast human eye was unbearable — the sus-
picious beast rose up and skulked away, with
trailing tail and with head turned partly round
to keep watch upon its enemy. Tharsos held
on steadily, puq^osing that if death should
happen to him, it would be as far away as pos-
sible from the eyes of the sore-tried, desolate
maiden.
When near the side of the arena right op-
posite the emperor, the lion howled with fear
and sprang ten feet up towards the balcony,
its eye-balls gleaming just a short space below
Titanus and his eager boy.
Rising up quickly, Titanus placed his hand
upon the hilt of his sword. Fain would he
have leapt down to the aid of his beloved
friend. Their eyes met for a moment ; and,
though pale and grave, Tharos smiled.
THE MOTHER OF Si. NICHOLAS.
65
JJafflcd in its leap, the brute turned sharply
round, face to I'aco with its determined pur-
suer, and uttered a terrific roar of rage. The
issue would soon be decided, and the immense
concourse of people held their breath, while
Pathema turned away her head and offered
up a silent lu-ayer to Him who has power
over the beast of tlie field.
Tharsos now drew slowly back, while keep-
ing his eyes towards the enraged lion. Sud-
denly withdrawing his gaze, he turned and
ran with swift and bounding steps straight
for the eastern extremity of the arena, while
the surja-ised spectators yelled their contempt
after him. Then the man strangely swayed
and tottered in front of the A-ery door where
the calm resolute woman had entered but a
few minutes before.
'' He plays the coward, he faints, curse
him!" was heard on every hand, as they saw
him finally throw up liis arms and fall.
"The charge is false, false!" exclaimed an
erect.
indignant figure with a pale face
up
!1 •l
n!
!ii ! i .
66
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
among the women. It was the voice of Cor-
yna, but amidst the clamour she was not heard
except by those immediately around her.
"Hear ye the madwoman!" cried they, as
they scoffed and laughed.
'J'ho emperor, disappointed and even
ashamed, sat in scornful silence. But Ser
villus^ excited with malig'nant pleasure,
laughed outright.
Then Titanus rose up and drew his glitter-
sword. ITe stepped to tlie very edge of the
l)idcony, Carnit)n at his side, and the eyes of
llie people catching sight of him, the loud
storm of abuse instantly ceased.
" Too late, too late, and out of order!" Ser-
vilius fiercely cried, fearing the rescue of the
man he unjustly hated.
" He who calls my friend Tharsos a cow-
ard!" exclaimed Tit^nus in clear ringing
voice, " shall die. I challenge him to meet
me next on the sand of that arena!"
And Coryna was unspeakably relieved.
But no man would wantonly accept the
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
67
challenge, for Titanus was agile and strong,
and was one of the most expert swordsmen in
the Roman army.
There was, however, much excitement over
thiM bold interruption and at the announce-
ment of the name of the prostrate man, whos.'
high rank was widely known.
The indignant Tilanus was rigl.t — there wa>
no cowardice. The multitude had entirely
misjudged the tactics of the brave Tharsoe.
The fallen man lay quietly upon his bju;k,
Avitli his face slightly toward th.e lion, an I
with his dagger closely clinched i»i h:s stron^j,-
right hand.
Coryna's feelings were strung to the high-
est pitch. Her suspense was agony, but she
would not have her brave brother cLsewhere.
The ferocious beast, taken by surprise or
freed from ])rovocation, suddenly quieted
down. It sat on its haunches for a moment,
and looked after the fleeing man. Then it rose
up, and preferring a fallen form to an erect,
it followed him with light majestic tread. It
■■ I
08
T1II£ MUTllEK or ST. NICHOLAS.
[ ll i'
P
i'iuuii to witliiu twenty iWt of where he lay,
aii<l lialte<l, sitting on its haunches again.
Kising up, it walked around him twice, look-
ing at him curioiusly all the time. Satisfied
at hist that it had an easy prey, it went for-
ward softly, like a cat. Halting, it bent down
to sniff the still, white, helpless-like fignre, and
to seize the flank.
The time for action had come. Swiftly
Tharsos drew his arai, and with terrific force
thrust the dagger right into the would-be
devourer's heart!
With a mighty yell the lion leaped into the
air, and fell heavily across the body of its
destroyer — a dangerous struggle or two, and
it was dead !
Then was the stratagem understood, an<l
when it was coupled with the name and rank
of the self-sacrificing victor, a thundering
shout of applause filled the amphitheatre.
"Well done! brave Tharsos," said the Em-
peror proudly to the distinguished noblemen
around him, who were all delighted, Servilius
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
G9
excepted, who vainly strove to conceal his
deep displeasure.
Looking deliberately across the arena, the
emperor caught Titanus' eye and smiled. That
valiant officer rose up and saluted his sov-
ereign with becoming dignity and grace.
" Oh father, what a grand fight," exclaimed
Carnion, "and the Christian lady is free!"
" Yes, my son," replied tlie trustful soldier,
resting back upon the chair for a moment
with unutterable satisfaction, for the honor
of his friend was upheld, and the virtuous
maiden was saved.
The vast multitude were greatly gratified in
their feeling of the sensational. Yet a few
were stirred to better thoughts and high
resolves, who would never otherwise be in-
fluenced. Thus in the providence of God does
the wrath of man work out His purpose and
praise.
The applause was at its height. But,
strange to say, Thai-sos moved not. The offi-
cials that had gone to his aid ri^moved the huge
I Mir
11
I
70
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
'I''
I
I.:
dead lion from his body. Still Tliarsos moved
not. Something appeared to be wrong, and
the groat noise stopped. The spectators leaned
forward and looked anxions. Was the dannt-
less destroyer himself destroyed? The at-
tendants turned him tenderly over — when,
alas ! thcif wah a frightful gash in his naked
side, from which the blood was flowing freely
into the sand. His face and lips v/ere white,
with an expression of peace, as if in death.
Titanus, deeply anxions, arose and hastened
away to get the best physician he could find.
As he disappeared he glanced upward to the
colonnade, but Coryna, the sister, was gone.
Camion remained to see more of the strick-
en man, and of the pale v.'oman in the centre,
&ilent, unnoticed, and alone.
Promptly but gently the attendants lifted
up Tliarsos and carried him from the arena.
And as he passed from their sight the vast
audience was hushed in regret.
THE MOTHER Ol- ST. NICHOLAS.
71
CHAPTER XII.
DISCIPLINE.
Patliema also watched their movements and
departure, fearing that the wounded youth
was dead. Her heart yearned anxiously after
him. Who was he that had so vaBantly
fought and bled for her? His name wasThar-
sos, and he was a brave, self-sacrificing noble-
man — that was all she could tell. It waa
enough. Self-sacrifice vividly rcca'knl ano'hcr
sacrifice, greater, perfect, and for all. TIk;
flood-gate of feeling could not be kept closed.
She held the lilies in her drooping hand, she
raised them, looked at them tenderly for a
moment, then buried her face in them, and
wept.
A herald now approached Patliema and
formally announced that she was free, at the
same time pointing to the open door through
which thev had borne the bleeding hero. But
to the sensual undiscerning multitude, Pathe-
72
THE MOTHKR OF ST. NICHOLAS.
ma was no heroine. She was only a woman;
and in those days when heathenism prevailed,
women were not honoured as they are now. Be-
sides, Pathema was to them a fanatic, a de-
tested Christian, and at best bnt a stubborn,
unbending, young woman. They knew not
hor supreme gentleness and modesty, which
shrank from publicity like a sensitive plant
from touch. They did not know that it was
intense love and loyalty to her Head which
gave her strength to dare even cruel death.
Pathema turned to leave th^ arena, but the
tension and turmoil and reaction were now
telling fast upon her fragile frame. As she
walked away, her weakness was so great that
she had the utmost difRculty to keep from
falling, and it was only too visible; but she
struggled on.
There "was no sign of sympathy from the
now talkative crowd, waiting for another scene
of blood. They treated her with indifference
— she was but a very secondary actor in the
tragedy. Yet, though they knew her not, she
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
was tlic greater victor, not that day alone, but
in her past daily life of sacrifice. Slie was
greater than he that slays a lion or takes u
city I
Among the indifferent crowd there was one
bright exception. Camion, though not then a
Christian, yet was fulfilling the beautiful
words — " Rejoice with them that do rejoice,
and weep with them that weep." As Pti-
thema walked away with bowed head and
faltering steps, the lad stepped to the edge of
the balcony, and waiving his silken handker-
chief, called out—" Thy God bless thee!" And
the sufferer heard the boy's sweet, strengthen-
ing voice, and struggled on.
Misunderstood and unregarded by t\n)
heartless multitude, yet Pathema's discipline
and victory were the work of God, and they,
even the greatest of them, were but tlie will-
ing, guilty instruments. She was being fa-
shioned through suffering in the truest beauty
and for the highest honour — the beauty of
holiness, which endures for ever. She walked
74
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
meekly and painfully on, she roacliod the little
<loor, and then she ])as8ed from tlieir guilty
l)re8ence, — a (lueen, tliough uncrowned.
1 M
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
<5
CHAPTER Xlll.
NIGHT.
I
The imconscious officer's wound was liastily
but skilfully bound up and the blood stanched,
he was raised in a lecHca or litter, and carried
home with great care to his mansion. In the
quietest chamber of the house, he was laid
upon a costly bed, one of rare wood with feet
of ivory and with purple coverlets curiously
broidered with gold.
Titanus, having done his utmost, had gone
away with Camion, much cast down, the more
so that he was under command by the emperor
to leave Rome immediately on foreign service.
Coryna was left beside her brother, with
the physician and a faithful intelligent slave.
The depth of her feelings could not be
sounded, yet there was staying power of a
kind. Grief, admiration and anxiety surged
around a will of rock. Within, a whirling
storm: without, a pallid calm. She watched
7e
HIE MOTHER Ul' ST. NItllULAS.
for tho first signs of conaciousrioss an tlio eagle
watches for its prey.
Tliarsos lay as if in death, with the soft
liglit of serenity still on his manly face aiul
classic brow. He moved at last and o})oiied his
cyoa.
" Where is the Chriwtian maiden? " said he
ill dreamy feebleness, his expression cluinging
into a look of anxiety.
^hich relieved in tension Coryna answered
softlv —
" Some kind one quickly conveycnl her
away, my brother, but I have sent several of
our slaves over the city to find out her lodging-
])lace and to enquire after her health."
A radiant joy covered his face, and he re-
mained silent for a little. Then he spoke with
quiet earnestness: —
'^ My sister, thou knowest her worth. Look
after her, I pray thee, for her own sake, and
for the sake of Ilim she serves so well. But "
— and here he halte<l, trying painfully to take
a deep breath.
THE MOTHEK Oi' ST. NICHOLAS. 77
" SiH'Jik not, Hiy hrotlior," sa'nl Corymi
HO()thingly.
]iecomiiig- calm, he rcHUiiicd — " Hasten tlio
search, Coryna; ask tlie maiden to coim; and
sec me before I die. Tell her that I siiall
regard Iut visit as a kindness and honour. [
desire much to speak to her, my belovi.'d sister,
to place thee in her care, and then I shall die
in peace." Tharsos spoke these last words
very feebly, and then closing liis eyes he siink
back into unconsciousness.
Coryna's heart was torn, but she would not
renounce hope.
It was difficult to trace where Pathema had
gone, humble Christian friends having taken
her to a remote, obscure, but comfortable
home. One messenger, however, got word of
her whereabouts late the same night, but too
late to be prudent to call. When he knocked
at the door next day he did not know that the
object of his search was well informed through
her friends concerning Tharsos' critical state,
78
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
and that already there was a brief, beautiful,
tablet-letter in her own handwriting, lying-
near his unconscious pillow.
Weakened by her cruel experience, Pathe-
ma was resting quietly upon a couch beside a
small open window, her heart full of gratitude
to God for deliverance and of anxiety about
her human deliverer.
" Is there a maiden named Pathema lodging
here? " Marcellus, the messenger, enquired.
" There is, sir," said a little Roman maid,
the daughter of the hostess, much excited as
she looked out into the street and saw six slaves
in red livery standing beside a grand palan-
quin.
" My master, Tharsos, is at the point of
death, but he would like to see the Christian
maiden ere he die."
Pathema overheard these words, and rose up
at once. Though weak in body, she was reso-
lute in mind, and she had enjoyed a provi-
dential night's rest. There was no delay
in arranging matters, and she stepped into the
THE MOTHER OK ST. NIC TOLAS.
70
ledica calmly but sm one about to go through
a painful ordeal.
After elbowing their way through the
streets, Marcellus leading, the slaves at length
laid their burden down beside a statue of Car-
actacus in the vestibule before the door of
the young nobleman's mansion.
Like the usual Roman dwelling, the exterior
was not prepossessing; but when Marcellus
opened the door, the prospective view wa.s
peculiarly magnificent. The doors and cur-
tains of successive courts were drawn aside,
revealing active fountains, marble pillars with
splendid statuary, and a lawn and shrubbery
exposed above to the blue Italian sky.
Pathema ascended the marble steps, and
passing through the richly gilded door inlaid
with tortoise-shell, she stood for a moment on
the mosaic floor of the ostium or entrance hall.
Overhead, a parrot of brilliant plumage
greeted her with the salutation, " Joy be v ith
thee." Going straight on for a few feet, she
passed into the airiurrif a pillared court, where
I:
80
THE MOTHER OF ST. NiCHOLAS.
Coryna, the image of Tharsos in finer raouLI,
met her and kissed her hand in touching;-
silence.
Leading the way, Coryna went on througli
the cavaediiLm, a larger Corinthian-columned
court, in whose centre stood a splashing foun-
tain, shooting its crystal stream towards the
open sky. Passing the tablinum or room of
iirchivc's, they proceeded into the peristyliuni,
a still larger tranverso court or lawn with ver-
dant shrubbery and a chaste towering foun-
tain.
Here there was a Roman lady, elegantly
dressed and richly jewelled. Her dark-com-
plexioned face was strikingly beautiful, yet
marred by a lofty look of haughtiness. Slie
walked around the lawn with the alert
graceful movements of a panther. Evidently
she was laboring under considerable excite-
ment, and when Coryna and Pathema entered,
her black eyes flashed out a deadly scorn.
Inwardly disturbed, yet meeting the lady's
look with a smile, Coryna turned aside between
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
81
the marble columns into one of the exedrae
or rooms for conversation. Guiding Pathema
to a comfortable seat, she spoke for the first
time, saying,
"Welcome to our home!"
"I thank thee for the honour," answere<l
Pathema, " and I am glad to come, yet greatly
pained."
" My brother did right," was the quiet re-
sponse.
"Receive, I pray thee," said Pathema in
tears, " my deepest gratitude for thy brother's
deed."
" Tharsos will yet receive it personally,"
was the happy answer.
"I rejoice to hear thy hope," replied Pa-
thema with brightening eyes.
" I have hope, but the physicians have little
or none."
After a little further conversation during
which the visitor's whole heart was drawn out
to the noble character before her, Coryna
craved liberty for a moment to bid her friend
82
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
in the peristylium farewell. As she Avcnt out,
a female slave entered to wait upon Pathema
and show her every necessary attention. The
slave was not long in her presence when she
bewailed the calamity that had come upon
her beloved master. Then she mentioned that
the young lady in the peristylium was much
distressed.
" Emerentia," she continued, " loves him ex-
ceedingly, and he liked her in return. Her
father and mother leave to-day for a distant
city of the empire, and she goes with them."
Pathema was grieved, and she expressed the
fervent hope that the nobleman would recover,
for the distressed lady's sake, as well as his
own.
"Emerentia," added the slave, "is gener-
ous and accomplished — that is why the master
liked her — but her goodness is not so strong
as her pride and jealousy. The lady is fierce
in her feelings. She hates the Christians,
and more so now than ever."
After a few minutes Coryna returned, re-
r
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
O.J
strained and quiet, but with the trace of a tear
that had stolen down her fair face.
" My brother," said she with hesitation,
" earnestly desired that thou shouldst conic
and stay with me for a time. Is this possible?
May I hope it is."
Pathema was taken by surprise. Her home
and beloved parents and the poor of Patara
had been much in her heart. Her father had
been more than once in Rome, trying^ to ob-
tain her liberty, and he had provided long ago
the temporary abode she had been carried to
by Christian friends. This now swept across
her vision. But it was quickly followed by
another picture — the self-sacrificing act of the
nobleman in whose mansion she was uow a
guest. And he was dying — so the physicians
feared. Duty — gTatitude — consolation —
everything demanded her presence. Her an-
swer was unhesitating and prompt —
" I will stay \vith thee."
And Coryna bent down and kissed her, with
a feeling that was warmly returned.
84
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
' II
i
■(
ii
'i «
Tharsos was beyond the stage of knowing
anyone. In spite of the best medical skill,
fever had quickly set in, and the battle began
in earnest between life and death.
Now was the opportunity for a woman's
soldiership — soldiership of the highest kind —
where woman only can excel. The weapons
are experience, presence of mind, patience,
endurance and compassion. "With all these
Pathema was perfectly armed, her value was
speedily recognised, and she became an un-
assuming soldier in the strife. There were
days and nights of anxious care and watching,
the utmost was performed, and nothing left
undone. Yet Tharsos seemed to be marching
straight without resource to the grim enemy's
gloomy gate. The thought was painful be-
yond measure, but it seemed to Pathema that
the noble-minded man must die!
While the fever lay upon him he spoke in
bits of sentences about the ITazarene, mysteri-
ous, divine! and the devoted disciple Pathema.
His language was now subdued and rever-
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
85
ential, tender and touching, aa if he stood in
the presence of unearthly beings; then indig-
nant, emphatic, even wild, as if he were again
surrounded by the cruel and inquisitive mul-
titude — a wildness wholly unlike that of the
quiet reserved man in health. Sitting up and
pointing to the walls he would cry —
"Great God I the fiends, mad, malignant,
blood-thirsty, the fiends of Tartarus have
entered thy fair world in the bodies of men."
II \
bi) Tilii MUTliliK UF ST. NiCtlULAS.
CHAITKll XI\'.
DAY.
Tharsos did not (lie. Had tl»<' lion's claws
twisted, or torn a little deeper, or had there
been incapable nursing, there would have
been no hope. But the animal missed the
vitals, and the faithful nurse made the most
of what remained — she would have readily
yielded life at her loving though painful duty.
When the consuming fever was completely
turned and past, and a little strength gained
through death-like sleep and judicious nourish-
ment, it dawned upon the sick man's nuhd
that someone strange but fascinating was con-
stantly by his side. And when he learned
that his attendant was Pathema, there came a
peace over his soul that could not be expressed.
After a long time Tharsos recovered
strength, but he was never again the same.
He was subject to spells of weakness that kept
him to his couch for days, and he had to resign
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS. 87
his position in the army. Yet ho lived for
many years afterwards, and did a noble work,
impossible to be done in the service of the
emperor, a work that could not be hid, as ji
good soldier of Jesus Christ.
Pathema, relieved in due time, went back
to her home in Asia Minor. She carrieil
many costly gifts, showered upon her and re-
fused in vain. But, hotter still, slic carried
away the undying devotion of Tharsos, the
close sisterly affection of Coryna, and the
goodwill of all that really knew lier worth.
Her parents in Tatara were overjoyed at
her return, and so were many others in the city
and wide surroundings — many, who waited
for tender attention and waited not in vain.
Tharsos sold his mansion in Rome, and fol-
lowed Pathema to Patara. He bought a beau-
tiful residence in that city, and built another
farther up the river Xanthus among the hills.
And Pathema became his wife. Staying in
these two houses alternately, at diiTerent sea-
sons of the year, they passed the rest of their
i
(
i I, !
88
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
lives, ^'o two beings loved ouch other better,
or did a more useful and beneficent work.
Their city home was a centre of Christian light
and hospitality, while their rural retreat was
the scene of many joyous and instructive
gatherings of the country people. In these
abodes the friendless wanderer, of whatever
race or tribe, could lay down his weary head
and there find solace and rest.
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
CHAPTER XV.
SAINT NICHOLAS.
89
u n
The house among the olive trees at the
base of yonder hill— whose is it, friend?" en-
(juired a traveller of a pagan whom he met.
" The hospitable home of Tharsoe and Pa-
thema," was the reply.
"Thanks be to GodI " said the traveller,
passing on.
" Who are these two men that sit together
in the portico?" asked he of a Christian as he
came up in front of the house.
" Tharsos, the owner of the mansion, and
Orestes, a shepherd from the valley beyond."
" They speak as brothers," said the traveller,
raising his eyebrows and passing by.
Going to a side door, he was about to knock
when a woman approached from behind lux-
uriant vines, with a twig of olive blossoms in
her hand. She walked towards him with quiet
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THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
grace, lier countenance inspiring all respect
and trust.
Bowing low, the traveller said — " My name
is Timon. I have travelled far, and am foot-
sore and in want."
"Enter in," said Pathema kindly, " sit at
yonder table with the rest, and thou slialt have
water to wash thy feet."
Going in, the ex-detective was met by a
pretty boy with golden hair and deep blue
eyes, the first-born son of Tharsos and Pa-
thema. The child took a gentle hold of his
sun-brown hand to lead him to food and rest.
The weary stranger clasped the tender fingers,
and looking down into the trusting, thought-
ful face, he said —
" Child of a noble mother, thou hast made
me glad."
" Come," said the little one lovingly,
"' come."
u
a
Tell me thy name, darl
name is Nicholas
mg.
My name is jSTicholas," replied the boy.
Thou art a little saint," rejoined the
•tranger hopefully, " and thou shalt gladden
many
»
THE MOTHER OF ST. NICHOLAS.
Wonderful boy of long ago !
Come now and tell-
As aged ma^, with beard of snow
And hair all white, what gave thy name,
Adown the years, the glow of fame?
Explain thy spell
O'er countless children waiting thee
In varied home, —
Afar inland, beside the sea.
In lonely cot, and crowded town,—
Awatching oft in midnight gown,
For thee to come.
Wert thou a selfish, cunning boy ?
Ah no, ah no !
Tradition findeth no alloy
In thy make-up, but giveth thee
A generous heart, from baseness free,
Alike the snow.
White out and in, a giver pure,
With heart all warm,—
This ! is thy spell, direct and sure,
O'er boy and girl ; who think it good
To paint thy face in comic mood-
It does no harm.
But clothed in loving, reverent mien
Tradition gives —
Thou art, in this, by seniors seen.
To meet the life of one who was
The mother of Saint Nicholas :
In thee she lives.
91