PREFACE.

There are those who have asked me towrite this book. There may be others whoshall question me because I have written it."Assuredly," these will cry out, "it is justlyforbidden to ascribe words and deeds of one's owndevising to them which have been set foreverapart in the pages of the Book of books. The penof inspiration has written of Stephen all that Godwills us to know of him, therefore let us becontent."

It is true that the story of Stephen is littleknown; scarcely for a single day does the lightshine clearly upon him, and that day the last of hismortal life. A tale is told of ancient alchemists,how that they possessed the power of resurrectingfrom the ashes of a perished flower a dim ghost ofthe flower itself. In like manner, may not onegather the fragrant dust of this vanished life fromout the writings and legends of past ages, andfrom it build anew some faint image of itsforgotten beauty?

Surely in these days, when the imaginationhurries to and fro on the earth, delving amid all thatis low and evil and noisome for some new panaceawherewith to deaden, if only for a moment, thefeverish pain in the hearts of men, it were agood thing to lift up the eyes of the soul to thecontemplation of those days when the memory ofthe living Jesus was yet fresh in the hearts of Hisfollowers; when His voice still echoed in theirears; when the

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