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

por, while the darting rays of the genial sun, pass them by un-
heeded, to reflect themselves in the modest valley. What signifies
tliis bowing and cringing servility bestowed on us by mor-
tals like ourselves, when we don't possess fit her a true friend or
a single heart to love us? Such reflections rendered her melan-
choly and dejected, for when she looked back on her past life,
she found that all her good works grew on no other soil than
that of her wealth, and because those riches were not her own
merits, but at the most, the mere possessions of her ancestors, it
appeared to her as though she had passed a useless life. She
therefore saw herself in effect poor in good deeds, and n feeling
of shame and sadness took possession of her. It appeared to her
that great souls must think little of her as she had nothing else
to offer for another life, but fleeting treasures. Then she understood
for the first time that there could be that man who would
look upon riches as an imperfection, and that the Qospel was
right in connecting perfection with a renunciation of temporal
goods. Even a Roman noble, Minutius Felix, expressed the same
sentiments. Whence all at once would such an honor come to the
poor, that the greatest among the inhabitants would visit them,
and try to comfort them?
The rich matron does this merely because she begins to experience
a pleasure in a doctrine, that commands us without distinc-
tion to love every one as we love ourselves, still more willingly
would she hasten to the poor, if she knew who He is that says:
" What you do to the least of these my brethren, you have done
to me."
So poverty in the Christian world, has quite another position,
than that which it had in the pagan. Poverty gives virtue a
patent for nobility, love, vassals, and in the naked God-Man on
the cross, she beholds her oldest and most renowned Ancestor.
The poor themselves have at all times acknowledged this privilege
througu the Redeemer, and have therefore been from one
century to another, the most affectionate and faithful children
of Christ and His holy Church.
CHAPTER XIV.
SAD INTELLIGENCE.
In a shady part of the extensive garden,
is a bower formed of
majestic palm trees, and their projecting branches fall in graceful
profusion over the arched roof, and mingle in pleasing con-
trast with the lighter green of the Acacia, and the blooming roses
of Psestum, which with their full buds insinuate themselves
through the dark foliage of the interior.
In this lovely spot, surrounded by a wilderness of beauties,
was Metella, reclining on a soft couch, and taking her morning
repast. Close to the sofa, sat Lydia, reading to her mistress.
She held a portion of the Gospel of St. John in her hand. Although
the early Christians carefully preserved the Gospels from
the heathens, still Bishop Quadratus allowed Metella to read all
their religious writings. At her feet, on the skirt of her robe,
lay her little Maltese dog. It had its little brown paws stretched
out at a full length, on which it rested its tiny black nose, and
settled itself snugly to sleep. Sehna is seen approaching up the
shady walk accompanied by a sweet looking boy. She carries
ia her hand a perforated silver fruit basket, m which are beautiful
peaches arranged on fresh vine leaves, and surrounded with
blue and yellow figs, and Arabian dates. The boy carried a fine
towel of Pelusium linen on his arm, he held in his right hand a
tankard, and in the left, a massive golden cup. Behind Duranns
stood little Thrax, bearing a muscle-shaped dish of rose colored
Sardonyx, filled with clear ice. All were laid on the black
marble table; the slaves bowed themselves backwards with arms
crossed on the breast, and retired.
"
My Lucius is a good son," said Metella taking (he golden
cup in her hand. "He sent me this cup lately the present of
the Emperor Verus, and he begged me to use it daily until his
return. Also Pompcianus, whom I knew in Rome, and who
now fights on the Danube with Lucius, guessed what would
L, f U I A.
please me. He has had some words of comfort, touching tin?
death of my beloved husband, engraved on it. Before you pour
in the beverage, you may recall the verses to my mind."
A niilKt tin: limy hour* of life'a routine,
oftli:.
id seen
LaborioaH T> lu , tfr.nnl i. plough
With tollKome pain, thine acrc furn-v through.
Thu mU'ringn mix with itute, and through the mind
Wail In cad accent*, like the moaning wind.
Death forc'd thy noble n|x>uo from tbce to part.
And In the dark tomb uleepa liin faithful heart.
IM.tcllu Mill thcm'st joy amldKt thy gri.-r,
Bloom to thy cheek, and to thy heart relief:
Ahl may not that joy thoa>t iniined tic brief.
May Lucius' fac
'
"iifht, for there
.iitne. iii hrixht traite appear,
Proud ornaments of that afflicting blcr.
After Lydia had repeated them, she poured the red wine into
the cup, and dropped in a few crumbs of ice to give it an agree-
able coolness.
Lydia related as an introduction to the paragraph, that she
was to read that morning, that Jesus returned willingly to His
friend Lazarus, who lived at a short distance from Jerusalem.
Lazarus was at one time dangerously ill, and his afflicted sisters,
Martha and Mary sent a special message to Jesus, to obtain His
divine assistance for their sick brother. After this introduction
she began to read the touching account of the raising of Lazarus,
and added that this resuscitation
the imprisonment of our Lord.
stood in close connection with
This wonder, and the solemn reception of Jesus into Jerusalem,
roused the envy of the High Priest, and the death of our
Redeemer was the result. But just as Lazarus was only a few
days in the grave, so our Lord was but part of three days in the
tomb, when by His own power He rose from the dead. So will
our souls be united to our bodies, never to be separated. The
hope of meeting again is a consolation to us, when standing by
the side of those graves that contain all we loved on earth.
While Metella interrupted her frequently with questions, she
perceived that in front of the garden, coming towards her with
hasty steps, was a man of rank. As he approached, she recognized
him as her old domestic friend Pausanias and her father's
most grateful disciple. He commenced with an agitated voice
to say, that the Proconsul in Athens had just received news from
the seat of war, and that the conquest of the barbarians was at
last completed; which conquest was particularly attributed to
the bravery of the " Legio Fulminatrix," which many Greeks
had joined. The wonderful assistance of the Divinity was everywhere
spoken of, without which, the whole army must have
succumbed to the savage force of the barbarians. Also news of
Lucius, who fought bravely was contained m the accounts to
the Proconsul. He had scarcely said these words, when with
extraordinary haste, he drew forth a note, and laying it on the
little table, took his immediate departure.
" News of my son? " asked Metella and cast an anxious look
upon Lydia.
" Probably joyful news," replied she, " for he fought bravely.
I scarcely dare break open the note; Pausanias departed so
quickly, what can it signify? I tremble! O withdraw to the
shady walk and pray to your God for me. In the meant imc I wih
occupy myself in a few minutes with my darling Lucius." Lydia
obeyed. "The opening of that little missive can give me
unbounded joy or plunge me into the deepest grief! There it lies
in prophetic silence, bearing in its simple folds, a secret to me,
yet, the knowledge of which may for ever dash from my lips the
cup of joy It still says nothing, and yet contains what? perhaps
more than I shall live to bear."
The longer she delayed opening the missive, the greater became
her anxiety. Pausanias stood ever before her; his mien, his
confused look, his hasty departure, were all doubtful omens
She seemed incapable of thought, not even one to Him on hieM
to i^rant a gracious termination to her melancholy fears,
darling son, what shall I know of thee now?" and with one