CHAPTER XII.

THE ONE THING NEEDFUL.

On the same day began Arius to teach Theckla letters; for, although the

girl had been remarkably well instructed for an Egyptian maiden, all of

her tuition had been oral. But, in accordance with her strong wish to

learn how to read and write, the boy began at once with the three

alphabets, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and in a single day she learned all

of the letters, and the relative power of each, and in a very short time

she could make all of the characters with a sharp point of _keil_ upon a

leaf of papyrus. Then, as leisure served, he would take a single word,

as, for example, "spirit," and would pronounce and spell it in the three

languages (_nishema, pneuma, animus_), and she would repeat the three

names for the same thing after him, and spell them, and write them down,

over and over again, until she had become thoroughly familiar with the

letters, the sound, and the form of the written word. The acquisition of

a few words every day soon gave her command of a considerable vocabulary

in each tongue, and she rapidly learned to associate the words with all

familiar objects, and to call them by the right name in either tongue.

Then he would select some short passage, generally from the sacred

writings, and during the day she would write it over and over again, in

each of the languages, while he was absent upon the various duties which

pertained to his part of the farm-labor. The girl was continually

learning; and it was pleasant to see how soon she began, of her own

accord, to select and translate into the different tongues any passage

which pleased her. This process of education continued, as we shall

hereafter see, during the years which she spent at Baucalis, and finally

Theckla became very familiar with the three languages in which the

scriptures were then written.

On the next evening after that described in the last chapter, all the

dwellers at the cottage assembled again in Hatasa's room, by her

request, to hold the usual evening service; for the lady had seldom

quitted her bed, and she remained deplorably weak, suffering with

continual pain in her lungs, the result, perhaps, of her great exposure

during the storm, and of the terrible depression of spirits that

succeeded it. All through the pagan world, the only known refuge from

hopeless sorrow was suicide, and the idea of self-destruction was ever

present to her. Perhaps her maternal affection for Theckla alone

deterred her from putting an end to her life; for it was not regarded by

the heathen as cowardly, criminal, or even immoral, to seek that refuge

from misfortune. Cato did it; Seneca approved of it; Epictetus,

Aurelius, and all the great lights of pagan antiquity regarded

self-immolation as a matter of choice, and often as an act of wisdom.

But, from the moment in which Hatasa had been informed that the kind

friends who surrounded her were Christians, she felt a desire to know

more of them, and of their peculiar religion, strong enough to give her

a new interest in life; and she had requested Ammonius to have the

service in her room, and told him that, although she was too weak to

take any part in their conversation about Christianity, she desired to

hear himself and Am-nem-hat discuss any topic pertaining thereto in

which they were interested. So, after the usual exercises of reading

and prayer, the whole family remained together. The ancient remarked to

Ammonius that during the day he had pondered much upon the things spoken

of in their former conversation, and suggested, as a difficulty in the

way of the acceptance of Christianity, something like the following: "I

can understand how a kind and merciful God might lay down certain rules

of action, and require obedience to his laws, under whatever penalties

he might choose to impose; but it seemeth to me that to require one _to

believe_, as the sole condition of justification, is arbitrary and

unjust. Suppose that one hath some natural bent of mind, or hath been

reared and educated in some such way that it is hard, perhaps

impossible, for him to believe; yet thy books say: 'Believe and live; he

that believeth not is condemned already.' Is not this an arbitrary

demand for faith; and doth it not do violence to that very autonomy of

the will which thou sayest Jesus himself always respected and

venerated?"

"Thou dost somewhat mistake the matter," said Ammonius. "The Lord does

not demand our faith; he simply stateth an actual fact, which is, that

the believer is justified by faith, and that he who does not believe is

condemned already."

"I hardly understand what thou sayest: 'he simply stateth an actual

fact.'"

"I think thou wilt find that there is no arbitrary demand in it. Our

Lord gave no command only because he had power and authority to do so;

but he knew what was in man, and gave only such commands as his divine

wisdom perceived to be necessary for the welfare of mankind. As to the

necessity of faith upon which he insists, the case is thus: All men upon

earth are under the conviction of sin, and all alike are forever seeking

for some escape from the bonds of this conviction. Thou wilt perceive

that this conviction hath no reference to any specific, sinful act; for,

perhaps, the best and purest men have always been those who felt it most

keenly. It is a consciousness of alienation between the human and the

divine. It is a natural, intuitive perception, in the heart of every

man, that he is not as good as he ought to be, less perfect than he

might be. The universal desire to get rid of this conviction of sin hath

filled the world with false and ineffectual religions from the very dawn

of time; for all men, in every age and clime, have sought for some form

of penance or of sacrifice, some means in faith or work, by which to

make atonement and secure reconciliation, and thereby shake off this

conviction of sin. Hast thou ever heard of any kindred, tribe, or

tongue (or even of any individual), that professed to be perfect,

sinless, needing no sacrifice, no atonement for sin--that is, for a

consciously sinful condition independent of all specific acts of

transgression?"

"Nay," answered Am-nem-hat; "for thou art clearly right in that. All

men do by nature bewail their sinful state. Humanity standeth forever

like the lepers in Israel, with uplifted hand, crying aloud to heaven

and earth, 'Unclean! unclean!' It is a conviction upon which philosophy

hath no power. It cometh some time into every human heart, resistless

as the precession of the equinoxes, spontaneous as the flowing of the

Nile--a natural thing, which a man can no more control than he can reach

forth his puny hand and unloose the bands of Orion, or bind the sweet

influence of Pleiades, or guide Arcturus and his suns. All literature,

all monuments, all ages, and all men, testify unto this terrible truth."

"Now the work of Jesus," said Ammonius, "was not to burden this sick and

sorrowful nature with any arbitrary law of faith, but was to provide a

way by which this universal conviction of sin might be atoned for--a

perfect righteousness and sacrifice available by faith for our

justification; to wit, that God was in Christ reconciling the world unto

himself. And faith is made the condition, because no other condition

could be available for all men alike, whether great or small, rich or

poor, learned or ignorant; and Jesus died for all! Thou must see that

this faith, instead of being, as thou didst suppose, an arbitrary

condition or command, is simply the enabling act, instituted by divine

wisdom and compassion, by means whereof we may be able to attain unto

reconciliation with God. And without this faith we could never be

justified by holy life and works alone, because it is a law of our

nature that, just as we become better and purer beings, our conception

of the degree of fitness required of us necessarily becomes higher, so

that it is impossible for us to get any nearer to it; so that without

faith the best men are as much under conviction of sin as the worst; so

that without faith it is impossible for us to be consciously justified,

because our nature requires a perfect righteousness; and this perfect

righteousness and sacrifice must be human, that we may be able to trust

its love and willingness to aid us, and must be divine, that we may have

faith in its power to save. Hast thou ever heard of any name given under

heaven, or among men, which supplies these natural and necessary

conditions for our conscious justification and reconciliation with God,

and with our own hearts also, except the name of Jesus Christ? If thou

hast, please utter it."

"Verily," answered Am-nem-hat, "there is none. No religion of which I

have heard professeth to know any."

The old man seemed lost in profoundest meditation, and there was silence

in the room, until Theckla said: "Father Am-nem-hat, do thou bid Arius

repeat what things he said to me of this matter of faith when he was

teaching the alphabets to me this morning. I think it was much plainer

than thy learned discoursing with Ammonius."

"Yea," said Am-nem-hat, "I beg that Arius will do so, for I much desire

to hear thereof."

The boy blushed vividly at being so called upon in the presence of his

elders, but, at a sign from his father, he stood up before them, saying:

"I did not suppose the talk of persons so young could interest those who

are so much older and wiser, but, as ye desire to hear it, I can almost

repeat it. As Theckla and I were running over the alphabets, in order

to get the sound of the letters and the form of the characters, she came

upon the letter 'A' a second time, and she cried out: 'Oh, I know that

one; it is Latin A, Greek Alpha, Hebrew Aleph.' And I said unto her,

'Theckla, how knowest thou that the characters stand for these sounds?'

and she answered, 'Thou didst tell me so, and I did believe thee, boy,

and that is how I know it.' Then said I: 'Theckla, thou learnest the

alphabet by faith only. If thou wert naturally constituted so that thou

couldst not believe, thou couldst never learn anything not tangible to

thy senses. If thou wert by nature even indifferent between faith and

non-faith, thy progress in the acquisition of knowledge would be slow

and painful. Thou shouldst therefore learn, from the learning of these

alphabets, that faith is the first, most inevitable act of intelligence.

Thou shouldst learn that belief precedes knowledge always, that Faith is

the elder sister and leadeth Knowledge by the hand, and that without

antecedent faith it is impossible to learn and to know anything except

what is palpable to the senses; just as it would be impossible for thee

to learn these alphabets without faith.' And thereupon Theckla did

pinch mine ear, and laugh at me, saying, 'That all seemeth to be true

and plain enough, thou odd boy, but why art thou preaching at me now?'

And I did answer: 'Because, thou dear sister, some time thy faith may be

demanded for another alphabet than this, even the alphabet of spiritual

life; and, when that day shall come, I would have thee remember that

just as all human knowledge is builded upon the basis of faith only, so

it should not seem a hard thing unto thee that God hath fashioned thy

nature so that thou must be incapable of learning even the alphabet of

everlasting life except upon the very same condition of faith only.

Faith precedeth all knowledge; believe and obey, and finally thou shalt

know.' I think this was about what was spoken between us concerning

faith."

"And it is most wise, beautiful, and instructive talk," said Am-nem-hat,

"and serveth to complete the powerful utterances of thy father upon the

same lofty and interesting subject. I do thank thee for repeating it."

Then spake Hatasa, saying to Ammonius, "Suppose that one hath died

without having known the truth concerning Jesus, and without having

exercised this faith, is there no hope for such a one?"

The trembling voice in which she spoke, and the look of timid, doubtful

entreaty which accompanied these words, touched every heart, and made

them all feel that by "such a one" the poor lady meant her young and

gallant husband Amosis, whose memory seemed ever in her heart.

Ammonius answered: "I do not know whether I could make thee understand

fully the views which we Christians entertain about such a case as thou

hast suggested, but we believe that there is hope for such a man. The

great apostle Paul was Saul of Tarsus, and for a long time he did

persecute the Christians because they were Christians, yet he declareth

himself that he acted in all good conscience before God, believing that

it was his duty to do so, and he afterward became the great apostle and

a glorious martyr. I doubt not that there are among those who now

persecute the Christians some good and just men, that would follow Jesus

unto death if they could know him as he is. The conviction of sin, we

know, hath no reference to any specific transgression, nor hath the

forgiveness of sin. Whether an act be a sin or not dependeth largely

upon the intent with which it is done. Now, when the heathen, who know

not Jesus nor his divine truth, do yet live just and righteous lives

according to the best light and knowledge they possess, and die without

the consolation of the faith, the benefit of the atonement accrueth to

them in some way, we know not precisely how far, nor to what effect; to

all such, indeed, and especially to such as have some living Christian

relative or friend that taketh upon himself the rite of baptism for the

dead; for, if they have not the law, they are not judged by the law, but

by their works and righteousness under the law which they have."

"How is that?" said Hatasa, with breathless interest. "Thou sayest a

living Christian may be baptized for the dead?"

"Assuredly," answered Ammonius. "The apostles so taught, and the Church

hath always so practiced. If any Christian hath a relative that died

without knowledge of Jesus, and such Christian doth believe that the

deceased was a just and righteous person according to the measure of

light given unto him, and was such that he would have followed our Lord

if he had known sufficiently of him, such Christian may receive baptism

for the deceased, and the dead shall reap benefit of this vicarious

faith and obedience, how and to what extent hath never been clearly

revealed unto us."

"There is hope in that!" cried Hatasa. "There is consolation in that.

Thy Lord must have been full of human love and pity to make provision

not only for his friends, but for those good and just men, also, who

have ignorantly been his enemies."

"Yea, verily," answered Ammonius. "He loveth all men; his mercy

endureth forever; his loving-kindness is stronger than height, or depth,

or life, or death, or any other creature, as thou mayest assuredly know

for thyself if thou wilt believe on him."

Then Am-nem-hat said: "There is much in this religion that taketh fast

hold upon both the heart and the mind; for it verily seemeth that Jesus

seeketh not to impose a system upon man that is in any respect external

to man, but rather that he seeketh to show unto man such spiritual food

as is most divinely suitable to satisfy that hunger of the soul

wherefrom the whole world suffereth already; and he seemeth to propose

nothing as matter of faith which was not already a conscious want and

need of nature: so that his teachings ought to be accepted as at least

the highest utterance of philosophy if even not as divinely true."

"Thy profound criticism of the spirit of our religion striketh very

nearly to the heart of the whole matter," said Ammonius. "For the world

yearned after God whom it knew not, and Jesus plainly declareth that

unknown God whom men ignorantly worship. The world groaned and sorrowed

under the blind conviction of sin, and, wherever men acquired a local

habitation and a name on earth, there they had their holy places also;

and in some way--often in a crude and ignorant way, often in a gross and

sensual way, often in a heathenish and cruel way--they sought, by sacred

rites of penitence and sacrifice, to atone for their wrong deeds done;

but the wrongs continually repeated themselves, and the unavailing

religions left the world's heart like a troubled sea that can not rest.

But Jesus saith the sin for which ye suffer is not a wrong thing done at

all; these wicked deeds of yours are not sin, but are the outcroppings

of the sin that lieth back of all your deeds. Can a bitter fountain

send forth sweet waters? Doth an evil tree bear good fruits? Do ye

gather figs from thistles? Cease now your world-old and unavailing

efforts to regenerate the heart by the vain expiation of your wicked

deeds. Purify the fountain, that the waters thereof may be sweet. Make

the tree good, and its fruits shall be good also. For sin is

non-conformity to the will of God, and your evil deeds are only the

evidences of your enmity against him. So, when the blind yearnings of

the world's heart after peace had made sacrifices, not only of every

beast and creeping thing upon the earth, but of men also, he saith: 'All

these things ye do in vain, for your righteousness must exceed that of

the Scribes and Pharisees, or ye shall likewise perish. I am the Light,

the Truth, the Way--the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the

world--a perfect righteousness and sacrifice once for all offered for

the sin of men. Believe in me, and ye shall be saved; all other

sacrifices are in vain.' So every yearning want of the heart is met and

satisfied in Christ. All other religions under heaven condemn actions

which they suppose to be wicked, and prescribe certain forms of

expiation for such as they suppose to be expiable; but Jesus proposes to

pardon, not so much the sinful act as the sinner, the sinful nature out

of which the act ariseth, and to regenerate this nature so that it will

hate what it believes to be wicked, and love what it believes to be

holy. For Christ atoneth for all sin, and the act of faith is to

personally appropriate the benefit thereof to each one for himself."

"True," said Am-nem-hat, "and I undertake to assert that no other

religion in the world hath so represented sin to be want of conformity

to the will of God, rather than an evil deed; and in this whole matter

of sin and the forgiveness thereof, thy religion differeth from paganism

more radically than even in the doctrine of one God it differeth from

polytheism."

And in this and such like conversation the evening wore away until

bed-time came, and they separated for the night. The family at Baucalis

did not speak or think of these matters as of mere abstract theories of

truth, or of philosophy, but as actual, living verities. The Christians

felt their religion to be the only real life. They regarded all earthly

pursuits, passions, and pleasures, as mere incidents of existence, and

religion as the one controlling and all-important thing. Their pleasant

home was to them a merely temporary station on the highway whereby they

were journeying to a better land; the flesh was only a tabernacle which

the spirit must soon forsake; all that pertained to it was for a brief

season only; the real life was only begun during their occupancy of this

earthly tenement; Christian faith was to them the one thing real and

permanent, and earthly existence was of little consequence except as it

might stand related to eternal interests. Hence there was a freshness,

a vigor, a sense of reality and earnestness, in their way of thinking

and speaking of such things, that demonstrated their religion to be no

beautiful, speculative philosophy, but a hard, experimental, and

all-controlling fact. And so every night during that week the dwellers

at Baucalis assembled in Hatasa's room, and passed long hours in the

discussion of all the salient points of Christianity in a friendly,

careful way, as if, indeed, they had a mutual interest in ascertaining

the truth, especially concerning all those ideas upon which the

antagonism between Christianity and paganism most plainly appeared. To

set down all the various conversations in which they engaged would

indeed be to write a treatise upon primitive Christianity, a work in

which, perhaps, no interest would be felt in an age in which that system

no longer exists upon earth, and is utterly unknown to all except a few

self-poised, fearless, unpopular antiquarians, who have been eccentric

and independent enough to exhume that ancient religion from out the

accumulated _debris_ of fifteen centuries of ecclesiastical "progress"

which flourisheth over its ruins even as the vine ripens and the roses

bloom over the wreck of buried Pompeii. Yet we can not resist the

inclination that moveth us to write out our notes of one other evening's

conversation that happened between this Christian family and their pagan

guests.

Arius the Libyan: A Romance of the Primitive Church · 第 12 / 19 章