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THE DEATH OF OCTAVIA 401
Yes, she knew ;
but the source of her cheerful courage lay
in those scrolls which had been handed to her attendants by
Linus and by Luke. Ever since the lustral dews of baptism
had touched her brow, she had felt a change in her whole
being, but her deep peace was confirmed by what was now
read to her daily by Onesimus, or Hennas, or Tryphaena.
It was with strange feelings that when she broke the silken
thread of the small waxen tablets of Linus, she had read the
salutation in which Paulus, the prisoner, wished grace, mercy,
and peace to Octavia, Empress, and now beloved in Christ.
But as she eagerly read the few lines which he had engraved
with his trembling stylus for he had written this message
in large letters with his own hand she felt his words thrill
into her soul with strange power. He rejoiced and thanked
God that He had called her out of darkness into His marvellous
light, and told her that this wras a boon more precious
than all the kingdoms of the world. He comforted her under
all the affliction with which she was afflicted, with the comfort
wherewith he too was comforted of God. He told her
that she was a partaker of the sufferings of Christ, and that
the sufferings of this present time were not worthy to be
compared with that glory which shall be revealed in us. He
exhorted her to look, not at the things which are seen, but at
the things which are not seen ;
for the things which are seen
are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.
Such words fall too often on our cold and careless ears with
the triteness of long familiarity; but to Octavia, as to all who
first learnt to feel their meaning in that despairing age, they
seemed to be written in sunbeams. The new wine of the;
Kingdom of Heaven filled them as with divine intoxication ;
that which to the Pagans appeared like a half-insane enthusiasm
or a blank obstinacy was, in truth, but the exhilaration
l
of conviction, in comparison with whose preciousness the
whole world and all the glory of it seemed but as the light
dust of the balances. Octavia had not been unaccustomed to
hear the paradoxes of the Stoics and she
; regarded them as
spurious ornaments of life's misery spangles sewed upon
its funeral pall.
But in the words of Paul the prisoner, and
of the poor persecuted Christians, there rang tones of perfect
sincerity. Their doctrines were not learnt, but lived. They
1
Note 41. -- Christian Fortitude.