one who found holiness in that remorse, and who whispered of the joy in
heaven over one sinner that repenteth.
'Come,' said the Nazarene, as he perceived the effect he had produced,
'come to the humble hall in which we meet--a select and a chosen few;
listen there to our prayers; note the sincerity of our repentant tears;
mingle in our simple sacrifice--not of victims, nor of garlands, but
offered by white-robed thoughts upon the altar of the heart. The
flowers that we lay there are imperishable--they bloom over us when we
are no more; nay, they accompany us beyond the grave, they spring up
beneath our feet in heaven, they delight us with an eternal odor, for
they are of the soul, they partake of its nature; these offerings are
temptations overcome, and sins repented. Come, oh come! lose not another
moment; prepare already for the great, the awful journey, from darkness
to light, from sorrow to bliss, from corruption to immortality! This is
the day of the Lord the Son, a day that we have set apart for our
devotions. Though we meet usually at night, yet some amongst us are
gathered together even now. What joy, what triumph, will be with us
all, if we can bring one stray lamb into the sacred fold!'
There seemed to Apaecides, so naturally pure of heart, something
ineffably generous and benign in that spirit of conversation which
animated Olinthus--a spirit that found its own bliss in the happiness of
others--that sought in its wide sociality to make companions for
eternity. He was touched, softened, and subdued. He was not in that
mood which can bear to be left alone; curiosity, too, mingled with his
purer stimulants--he was anxious to see those rites of which so many
dark and contradictory rumours were afloat. He paused a moment, looked
over his garb, thought of Arbaces, shuddered with horror, lifted his
eyes to the broad brow of the Nazarene, intent, anxious, watchful--but
for his benefits, for his salvation! He drew his cloak round him, so as
wholly to conceal his robes, and said, 'Lead on, I follow thee.'
Olinthus pressed his hand joyfully, and then descending to the river
side, hailed one of the boats that plyed there constantly; they entered
it; an awning overhead, while it sheltered them from the sun, screened
also their persons from observation: they rapidly skimmed the wave.
From one of the boats that passed them floated a soft music, and its
prow was decorated with flowers--it was gliding towards the sea.
'So,' said Olinthus, sadly, 'unconscious and mirthful in their
delusions, sail the votaries of luxury into the great ocean of storm and
shipwreck! we pass them, silent and unnoticed, to gain the land.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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