BOOK THE FOURTH
Chapter I
REFLECTIONS ON THE ZEAL OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS. TWO MEN COME TO APERILOUS RESOLVE. WALLS HAVE EARS, PARTICULARLY SACRED WALLS.
WHOEVER regards the early history of Christianity, will perceive hownecessary to its triumph was that fierce spirit of zeal, which, fearingno danger, accepting no compromise, inspired its champions and sustainedits martyrs. In a dominant Church the genius of intolerance betrays itscause--in a weak and persecuted Church, the same genius mainly supports.It was necessary to scorn, to loathe, to abhor the creeds of other men,in order to conquer the temptations which they presented--it wasnecessary rigidly to believe not only that the Gospel was the truefaith, but the sole true faith that saved, in order to nerve thedisciple to the austerity of its doctrine, and to encourage him to thesacred and perilous chivalry of converting the Polytheist and theHeathen. The sectarian sternness which confined virtue and heaven to achosen few, which saw demons in other gods, and the penalties of hell inother religions--made the believer naturally anxious to convert all towhom he felt the ties of human affection; and the circle thus traced bybenevolence to man was yet more widened by a desire for the glory ofGod. It was for the honour of the Christian faith that the Christianboldly forced its tenets upon the scepticism of some, the repugnance ofothers, the sage contempt of the philosopher, the pious shudder of thepeople--his very intolerance supplied him with his fittest instrumentsof success; and the soft Heathen began at last to imagine there mustindeed be something holy in a zeal wholly foreign to his experience,which stopped at no obstacle, dreaded no danger, and even at thetorture, or on the scaffold, referred a dispute far other than the calmdifferences of speculative philosophy to the tribunal of an EternalJudge. It was thus that the same fervor which made the Churchman of themiddle age a bigot without mercy, made the Christian of the early days ahero without fear.
Of these more fiery, daring, and earnest natures, not the least ardentwas Olinthus. No sooner had Apaecides been received by the rites ofbaptism into the bosom of the Church, than the Nazarene hastened to makehim conscious of the impossibility to retain the office and robes ofpriesthood. He could not, it was evident, profess to worship God, andcontinue even outwardly to honour the idolatrous altars of the Fiend.
Nor was this all, the sanguine and impetuous mind of Olinthus beheld inthe power of Apaecides the means of divulging to the deluded people thejuggling mysteries of the oracular Isis. He thought Heaven had sentthis instrument of his design in order to disabuse the eyes of thecrowd, and prepare the way, perchance, for the conversion of a wholecity. He did not hesitate then to appeal to all the new-kindledenthusiasm of Apaecides, to arouse his courage, and to stimulate hiszeal. They met, according to previous agreement, the evening after thebaptism of Apaecides, in the grove of Cybele, which we have beforedescribed.
'At the next solemn consultation of the oracle,' said Olinthus, as heproceeded in the warmth of his address, 'advance yourself to therailing, proclaim aloud to the people the deception they endure, invitethem to enter, to be themselves the witness of the gross but artfulmechanism of imposture thou hast described to me. Fear not--the Lord,who protected Daniel, shall protect thee; we, the community ofChristians, will be amongst the crowd; we will urge on the shrinking:and in the first flush of the popular indignation and shame, I myself,upon those very altars, will plant the palm-branch typical of theGospel--and to my tongue shall descend the rushing Spirit of the livingGod.'
Heated and excited as he was, this suggestion was not unpleasing toApaecides. He was rejoiced at so early an opportunity of distinguishinghis faith in his new sect, and to his holier feelings were added thoseof a vindictive loathing at the imposition he had himself suffered, anda desire to avenge it. In that sanguine and elastic overbound ofobstacles (the rashness necessary to all who undertake venturous andlofty actions), neither Olinthus nor the proselyte perceived theimpediments to the success of their scheme, which might be found in thereverent superstition of the people themselves, who would probably beloth, before the sacred altars of the great Egyptian goddess, to believeeven the testimony of her priest against her power.
Apaecides then assented to this proposal with a readiness whichdelighted Olinthus. They parted with the understanding that Olinthusshould confer with the more important of his Christian brethren on hisgreat enterprise, should receive their advice and the assurances oftheir support on the eventful day. It so chanced that one of thefestivals of Isis was to be held on the second day after thisconference. The festival proffered a ready occasion for the design.They appointed to meet once more on the next evening at the same spot;and in that meeting were finally to be settled the order and details ofthe disclosure for the following day.
It happened that the latter part of this conference had been held nearthe sacellum, or small chapel, which I have described in the early partof this work; and so soon as the forms of the Christian and the priesthad disappeared from the grove, a dark and ungainly figure emerged frombehind the chapel.
'I have tracked you with some effect, my brother flamen,' soliloquisedthe eavesdropper; 'you, the priest of Isis, have not for mere idlediscussion conferred with this gloomy Christian. Alas! that I could nothear all your precious plot: enough! I find, at least, that youmeditate revealing the sacred mysteries, and that to-morrow you meetagain at this place to plan the how and the when. May Osiris sharpen myears then, to detect the whole of your unheard-of audacity! When I havelearned more, I must confer at once with Arbaces. We will frustrateyou, my friends, deep as you think yourselves. At present, my breast isa locked treasury of your secret.'
Thus muttering, Calenus, for it was he, wrapped his robe round him, andstrode thoughtfully homeward.
The Last Days of Pompeii Page 27
