Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

LTDIA.
at hearing such words from Lydia, and at such a moment.
'
"Those arc praises," said she that we never bestow on our
mistress, unless in her presence. When she is absent, we relaU
to each other her bad qualities. But I have remarked that you
never flatter her; on the contrary, what you say sounds more
like blame. But one thing you must acknowledge sincerely: Is
it not true, that you feel rather stormy within, whenever you
think of her cruelty, and that you will never forgive it." "In a
iin sense, clear Op-aue. you are right. I have never to for-
[five anything, because I never feel myself offended." Ophne
tcil for a moment, and repeated the words to herself, 'I
have nothing to forgive, because I never feel myself offended.'
She could not understand how a poor ill-treated servant, who
dares have no other revenge than that of the heart, could resign
that also. She was far from suspecting that the man who bears
patiently, in faith and hope, suffers also with a holy love. But
she resolved that she would, while on her way to the currier's
shop, where she was just going, reflect on the sentiments she
had heard. Turning to her fellow slave, she gave her a hearty
kiss on the cheek, and said: " You gentle lamb, give me some
remedies that will help me to conquer my anger, I should wish
10 be like you exactly in this respect."
"For a Christian there are many remedies: first the clear
knowledge of one's own imperfections; secondly, meditation
ou the sufferings of our Redeemer; and thirdly, forbearance and
indulgence towards the errors of our neighbor."
" No my dear, I do not want remedies for a Christian, but for
a heathen, such as I am."
-' I heard once" replied Lydia, with a smile, " that a certain
philosopher, who was much given to anger, determined on carrying
about him a mirror, so that when anger darkened and distorted
his features, he might behold in it their ugliness, and
thereby conclude upon the far greater deformity of the interior.
" One word more Ophne, does not the currier to whom you
are now going, sell sheets of parchment? Pray be kind enough
to bring me a few."
" What has a sandal-maid to do with parchment, said Ophne,
"and where shall I get the money to '
purchase it?
" What I want with the parchment, dear child, I cannot tell
you, but in any case I can give you the Lydia
money for it. I have a
had often heard this very exhortation from the lips of
the holy bishop, St. Polycarp, who wnne Hie sunn: in a letter to
the Philippi;uis: " \Ve cannot rise v, iih < &rj*t if \vc do not avoid
rendering evil for evil: on the contrary we must show mercy
that God may .show mercy unto us."
Ophne has returned and brought the parchment with her.
Lydia commences to arrange the sheets, draws the line for writing,
takes the instrument in her practised hand and copies the
address, " Sent to the Emperor Adrian." She hoped to be able
to bring in Justin's defence on a few rolls and was lost in admiration,
as she proceeded at the beauty of thought and the
clearness with which the mysteries of the Christian doctrine
were explained. She rejoiced at the favorable impression
which the writing was likely to produce on the mind of her
mistress. She found herself unable to write more than the superscription,
as her hand trembled violently at every letter and
in addition the night was far advanced.
Laying down her iron style,* her mind reverted to the actions
of the day just at an end. Now and then she cast her eyes upon
the simple cross which hung in her room, and was tastefully encircled
with the girdle of St. Polycarp, with which her hands
had been bound, when she was taken captive in the Amphitheatre
of Smyrna. She knelt down before the sign of her crucified
Redeemer; for she had much to say to Him, ere she completed
the duties of the day. With what delight did she fulfil the
mandate of our Lord; to pray for those through whom she had
become one merit the richer! "Accept, O God! the little affliction
of this day, as if my dear mistress had suffered it for the
love of Thee. If my pat ience were agreeable to Thee, do not ascribe
this little merit to me, but to her. And should she ever deserve
Thy anger, then, O Lord! punish not her but me! I offer
up myself for her. One grace grant unto her, O Lord! The
grace of knowing and loving Thee, our Lord and Saviour, Jesus
Christ."
While she was thus praying, she did not perceive that a hand
had drawn aside the curtain which concealed the door of
her room a few minutes, and it was again closed softly and
unheard by Lydia, and Metella passed noiselessly along the
corridor.
During the entire time of the military exercises, and the evening
entertainment, Metella was greatly discontented with herself.
The remembrance of her cruelty towards her poor slave
few'picces of gold, which my mother gave me when I was a captive
in Smyrna, probably thinking that thereby I might be able
to purchase a little civility from the jailer. I did not avail myself
of it, but kept the money secreted in my dress, and brought
it with me to Athens." Lydia placed it in Ophne's hand.
" But you must tell me," said Ophne, " what are you going to
I'll come
do with the If
parchment. you don't, I assure you
back empty handed. I always looked upon you, as my dearest
companion in misery, and to a prudent friend you may say
anything. "
" Well then," said Lydia, " if it must be so, I'll tell you.
" Our mistress asked me lately, when I told her that I was a
Christian, if I could not procure for her the famous defence,
written by the Christian philosopher Justin, and delivered to the
Emperor "Antoninus Pius. I have in the mean time, through
the kindness of our bishop, Quadratus, received the writing.
And now I should like to copy it, and surprise Metella with it on
her approaching birth-day. She does not know that I am a
when she
calligraphist, and her joy will perhaps be the greater,
finds the roll in her library. And now, child, you know all. go
and bring me the parchment." Ophne stood before her fellow
slave, as If transfixed by enchantment. With a gentle pressure
of the hand, she gave her to understand on leaving the room,
how clearly she had seen into the depths of her heart.
But a sweet feeling of heavenly enjoyment, such as the good
alone experience, when they have performed a generous deed,
flowed through Lydia's soul. It appeared to her as though a
divine voice whispered to her: " This time thou hast acted wr.ll,
for when I was fastened to the cross, I prayed for my executioners-
I commanded my disciples to love their enemies, to do
good to them that hated them, and to pray for those who per
iecuted and calumniated them."
pressed heavily on her soul ; and it appeared impossible
tor her
to retire to rest without finding some excuse to say a friendly
word to the ill-treated one.
But as she found Lydia on her knees pouring out her griefs to
her God, she was seized with a holy awe. and departed without
uttering a sound. She withdrew into her private sanctuary,
there to be reconciled to her offended deity for her conduct, and
lighting some frankincense, she strewed it at the feet of a statue,
and intermingled the action with penitential prayers. She
pressed her forehead glowing with shame to the feet of the statue;
but the cold goddess seemed to recede from her: the sculptured
form had neither heart nor consolation lor the oppn
supplicant . The poor heathen, with a heart full of contrition,
resolved on performing an especial act expressing the deepest
compunction. Such an act which we never meet with in suc-
in it most humilia-
ceeding centuries, and which had something
ting. She bent her head and spat three times into her bosom.
Then she arose, and retired to her chamber, f
the heathens which had its
This was a penance amongst
foundation in the idea of showing themselves before the divin
ity in the deepest degradation, after having committed a wicked
deed. In the Christian religion we have some such custom xn
the striking of the breast three times to express thereby, that
as the heart is the seat of our injustice, so it deserves to be
punished.
* The pen of that time.
t Sec upon this, Bottii)cr's " Sabina," A. M. 0.