Fabiola; Or, The Church of the Catacombs
CHAPTER XV.
CHARITY RETURNS.
When calm had been restored, after this twofold disturbance, the work of the day went quietly on. Besides the distribution of greater alms, such as was made by St. Laurence, from the Church, it was by no means so uncommon in early ages, for fortunes to be given away at once, by those who wished to retire from the world.[57] Indeed we should naturally expect to find that the noble charity of the Apostolic Church at Jerusalem would not be a barren example to that of Rome. But this extraordinary charity would be most naturally suggested at periods when the Church was threatened with persecution; and when Christians, who from position and circumstances might look forward to martyrdom, would, to use a homely phrase, clear their hearts and houses for action, by removing from both whatever could attach themselves to earth, and become the spoil of the impious soldier, instead of having been made the inheritance of the poor.[58]
Nor would the great principles be forgotten, of making the light of good works to shine before men, while the hand which filled the lamp, poured in its oil in the secret, which only He who seeth in secret can penetrate. The plate and jewels of a noble family publicly valued, sold, and, in their price, distributed to the poor, must have been a bright example of charity, which consoled the Church, animated the generous, shamed the avaricious, touched the heart of the catechumen, and drew blessings and prayers from the lips of the poor. And yet the individual right hand that gave them remained closely shrouded from the scrutiny or consciousness of the left; and the humility and modesty of the noble giver remained concealed in His bosom, into which these earthly treasures were laid up, to be returned with boundless and eternal usury.
And such was the case in the instance before us. When all was prepared, Dionysius the priest, who at the same time was the physician to whom the care of the sick was committed, and who had succeeded Polycarp in the title of St. Pastor, made his appearance, and seated in a chair at one end of the court, thus addressed the assembly:
“Dear brethren, our merciful God has touched the heart of some charitable brother, to have compassion on his poorer brethren, and strip himself of much worldly possession, for Christ’s sake. Who he is I know not; nor would I seek to know. He is some one who loves not to have his treasures where rust consumes, and thieves break in and steal, but prefers, like the blessed Laurence, that they should be borne up, by the hands of Christ’s poor, into the heavenly treasury.
“Accept then, as a gift from God, who has inspired this charity, the distribution which is about to be made, and which may be a useful help, in the days of tribulation which are preparing for us. And as the only return which is desired from you, join all in that familiar prayer which we daily recite for those who give, or do us good.”
During this brief address poor Pancratius knew not which
way to look. He had shrunk into a corner behind the assistants, and Sebastian had compassionately stood before him, making himself as large as possible. And his emotion did all but betray him, when the whole of that assembly knelt down, and with outstretched hands, uplifted eyes, and fervent tone, cried out, as if with one voice:
“_Retribuere dignare, Domine, omnibus nobis bona facientibus, propter Nomen tuum, vitam æternam. Amen._”[59]
The alms were then distributed, and they proved unexpectedly large. Abundant food was also served out to all, and a cheerful banquet closed the edifying scene. It was yet early: indeed many partook not of food, as a still more delicious, and spiritual, feast was about to be prepared for them in the neighboring titular church.
When all was over, Cæcilia insisted upon _seeing_ her poor old cripple safe home, and upon carrying for him his heavy canvas purse; and chatted so cheerfully to him that he was surprised when he found they had reached the door of his poor but clean lodging. His blind guide then thrust his purse into his hand, and giving him a hurried good day, tripped away most lightly, and was soon lost to his sight. The bag seemed uncommonly full; so he counted carefully its contents, and found, to his amazement, that he had a double portion. He tried again, and still it was so. At the first opportunity, he made inquiries from Reparatus, but could get no explanation. If he had seen Cæcilia, when she had turned the corner, laugh outright, as if she had been playing some one a good trick, and running as lightly as if she had nothing heavy about her, he might have discovered a solution of the problem of his wealth.