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.