PERILOUS RESOLVE. WALLS HAVE EARS, PARTICULARLY SACRED WALLS.
WHOEVER regards the early history of Christianity, will perceive how
necessary to its triumph was that fierce spirit of zeal, which, fearing
no danger, accepting no compromise, inspired its champions and sustained
its martyrs. In a dominant Church the genius of intolerance betrays its
cause--in a weak and persecuted Church, the same genius mainly supports.
It was necessary to scorn, to loathe, to abhor the creeds of other men,
in order to conquer the temptations which they presented--it was
necessary rigidly to believe not only that the Gospel was the true
faith, but the sole true faith that saved, in order to nerve the
disciple to the austerity of its doctrine, and to encourage him to the
sacred and perilous chivalry of converting the Polytheist and the
Heathen. The sectarian sternness which confined virtue and heaven to a
chosen few, which saw demons in other gods, and the penalties of hell in
other religions--made the believer naturally anxious to convert all to
whom he felt the ties of human affection; and the circle thus traced by
benevolence to man was yet more widened by a desire for the glory of
God. It was for the honour of the Christian faith that the Christian
boldly forced its tenets upon the scepticism of some, the repugnance of
others, the sage contempt of the philosopher, the pious shudder of the
people--his very intolerance supplied him with his fittest instruments
of success; and the soft Heathen began at last to imagine there must
indeed be something holy in a zeal wholly foreign to his experience,
which stopped at no obstacle, dreaded no danger, and even at the
torture, or on the scaffold, referred a dispute far other than the calm
differences of speculative philosophy to the tribunal of an Eternal
Judge. It was thus that the same fervor which made the Churchman of the
middle age a bigot without mercy, made the Christian of the early days a
hero without fear.
Of these more fiery, daring, and earnest natures, not the least ardent
was Olinthus. No sooner had Apaecides been received by the rites of
baptism into the bosom of the Church, than the Nazarene hastened to make
him conscious of the impossibility to retain the office and robes of
priesthood. He could not, it was evident, profess to worship God, and
continue even outwardly to honour the idolatrous altars of the Fiend.
Nor was this all, the sanguine and impetuous mind of Olinthus beheld in
the power of Apaecides the means of divulging to the deluded people the
juggling mysteries of the oracular Isis. He thought Heaven had sent
this instrument of his design in order to disabuse the eyes of the
crowd, and prepare the way, perchance, for the conversion of a whole
city. He did not hesitate then to appeal to all the new-kindled
enthusiasm of Apaecides, to arouse his courage, and to stimulate his
zeal. They met, according to previous agreement, the evening after the
baptism of Apaecides, in the grove of Cybele, which we have before
described.
'At the next solemn consultation of the oracle,' said Olinthus, as he
proceeded in the warmth of his address, 'advance yourself to the
railing, proclaim aloud to the people the deception they endure, invite
them to enter, to be themselves the witness of the gross but artful
mechanism of imposture thou hast described to me. Fear not--the Lord,
who protected Daniel, shall protect thee; we, the community of
Christians, will be amongst the crowd; we will urge on the shrinking:
and in the first flush of the popular indignation and shame, I myself,
upon those very altars, will plant the palm-branch typical of the
Gospel--and to my tongue shall descend the rushing Spirit of the living
God.'
Heated and excited as he was, this suggestion was not unpleasing to
Apaecides. He was rejoiced at so early an opportunity of distinguishing
his faith in his new sect, and to his holier feelings were added those
of a vindictive loathing at the imposition he had himself suffered, and
a desire to avenge it. In that sanguine and elastic overbound of
obstacles (the rashness necessary to all who undertake venturous and
lofty actions), neither Olinthus nor the proselyte perceived the
impediments to the success of their scheme, which might be found in the
reverent superstition of the people themselves, who would probably be
loth, before the sacred altars of the great Egyptian goddess, to believe
even the testimony of her priest against her power.
Apaecides then assented to this proposal with a readiness which
delighted Olinthus. They parted with the understanding that Olinthus
should confer with the more important of his Christian brethren on his
great enterprise, should receive their advice and the assurances of
their support on the eventful day. It so chanced that one of the
festivals of Isis was to be held on the second day after this
conference. The festival proffered a ready occasion for the design.
They appointed to meet once more on the next evening at the same spot;
and in that meeting were finally to be settled the order and details of
the disclosure for the following day.
It happened that the latter part of this conference had been held near
the sacellum, or small chapel, which I have described in the early part
of this work; and so soon as the forms of the Christian and the priest
had disappeared from the grove, a dark and ungainly figure emerged from
behind the chapel.
'I have tracked you with some effect, my brother flamen,' soliloquised
the eavesdropper; 'you, the priest of Isis, have not for mere idle
discussion conferred with this gloomy Christian. Alas! that I could not
hear all your precious plot: enough! I find, at least, that you
meditate revealing the sacred mysteries, and that to-morrow you meet
again at this place to plan the how and the when. May Osiris sharpen my
ears then, to detect the whole of your unheard-of audacity! When I have
learned more, I must confer at once with Arbaces. We will frustrate
you, my friends, deep as you think yourselves. At present, my breast is
a locked treasury of your secret.'
Thus muttering, Calenus, for it was he, wrapped his robe round him, and
strode thoughtfully homeward.
Chapter II
A CLASSIC HOST, COOK, AND KITCHEN. APAECIDES SEEKS IONE. THEIR
CONVERSATION.
IT was then the day for Diomed's banquet to the most select of his
friends. The graceful Glaucus, the beautiful Ione, the official Pansa,
the high-born Clodius, the immortal Fulvius, the exquisite Lepidus, the
epicurean Sallust, were not the only honourers of his festival. He
expected, also, an invalid senator from Rome (a man of considerable
repute and favor at court), and a great warrior from Herculaneum, who
had fought with Titus against the Jews, and having enriched himself
prodigiously in the wars, was always told by his friends that his
country was eternally indebted to his disinterested exertions! The
party, however, extended to a yet greater number: for although,
critically speaking, it was, at one time, thought inelegant among the
Romans to entertain less than three or more than nine at their banquets,
yet this rule was easily disregarded by the ostentatious. And we are
told, indeed, in history, that one of the most splendid of these
entertainers usually feasted a select party of three hundred. Diomed,
however, more modest, contented himself with doubling the number of the
Muses. His party consisted of eighteen, no unfashionable number in the
present day.
It was the morning of Diomed's banquet; and Diomed himself, though he
greatly affected the gentleman and the scholar, retained enough of his
mercantile experience to know that a master's eye makes a ready servant.
Accordingly, with his tunic ungirdled on his portly stomach, his easy
slippers on his feet, a small wand in his hand, wherewith he now
directed the gaze, and now corrected the back, of some duller menial, he
went from chamber to chamber of his costly villa.
He did not disdain even a visit to that sacred apartment in which the
priests of the festival prepare their offerings. On entering the
kitchen, his ears were agreeably stunned by the noise of dishes and
pans, of oaths and commands. Small as this indispensable chamber seems
to have been in all the houses of Pompeii, it was, nevertheless, usually
fitted up with all that amazing variety of stoves and shapes, stew-pans
and saucepans, cutters and moulds, without which a cook of spirit, no
matter whether he be an ancient or a modern, declares it utterly
impossible that he can give you anything to eat. And as fuel was then,
as now, dear and scarce in those regions, great seems to have been the
dexterity exercised in preparing as many things as possible with as
little fire. An admirable contrivance of this nature may be still seen
in the Neapolitan Museum, viz., a portable kitchen, about the size of a
folio volume, containing stoves for four dishes, and an apparatus for
heating water or other beverages.
Across the small kitchen flitted many forms which the quick eye of the
master did not recognize.
'Oh! oh!' grumbled he to himself, 'that cursed Congrio hath invited a
whole legion of cooks to assist him. They won't serve for nothing, and
this is another item in the total of my day's expenses. By Bacchus!
thrice lucky shall I be if the slaves do not help themselves to some of
the drinking vessels: ready, alas, are their hands, capacious are their
tunics. Me miserum!'
The cooks, however, worked on, seemingly heedless of the apparition of
Diomed.
'Ho, Euclio, your egg-pan! What, is this the largest? it only holds
thirty-three eggs: in the houses I usually serve, the smallest egg-pan
holds fifty, if need be!'
'The unconscionable rogue!' thought Diomed; 'he talks of eggs as if they
were a sesterce a hundred!'
'By Mercury!' cried a pert little culinary disciple, scarce in his
novitiate; 'whoever saw such antique sweetmeat shapes as these?--It is
impossible to do credit to one's art with such rude materials. Why,
Sallust's commonest sweetmeat shape represents the whole siege of Troy;
Hector and Paris, and Helen... with little Astyanax and the Wooden
Horse into the bargain!'
'Silence, fool!' said Congrio, the cook of the house, who seemed to
leave the chief part of the battle to his allies. 'My master, Diomed,
is not one of those expensive good-for-noughts, who must have the last
fashion, cost what it will!'
'Thou liest, base slave!' cried Diomed, in a great passion--and thou
costest me already enough to have ruined Lucullus himself! Come out of
thy den, I want to talk to thee.'
The slave, with a sly wink at his confederates, obeyed the command.
'Man of three letters,' said Diomed, with his face of solemn anger, 'how
didst thou dare to invite all those rascals into my house?--I see thief
written in every line of their faces.'
'Yet, I assure you, master, that they are men of most respectable
character--the best cooks of the place; it is a great favor to get them.
But for my sake...'
'Thy sake, unhappy Congrio!' interrupted Diomed; and by what purloined
moneys of mine, by what reserved filchings from marketing, by what
goodly meats converted into grease, and sold in the suburbs, by what
false charges for bronzes marred, and earthenware broken--hast thou been
enabled to make them serve thee for thy sake?'
'Nay, master, do not impeach my honesty! May the gods desert me if...'
'Swear not!' again interrupted the choleric Diomed, 'for then the gods
will smite thee for a perjurer, and I shall lose my cook on the eve of
dinner. But, enough of this at present: keep a sharp eye on thy
ill-favored assistants, and tell me no tales to-morrow of vases broken,
and cups miraculously vanished, or thy whole back shall be one pain.
And hark thee! thou knowest thou hast made me pay for those Phrygian
attagens enough, by Hercules, to have feasted a sober man for a year
together--see that they be not one iota over-roasted. The last time, O
Congrio, that I gave a banquet to my friends, when thy vanity did so
boldly undertake the becoming appearance of a Melian crane--thou knowest
it came up like a stone from AEtna--as if all the fires of Phlegethon
had been scorching out its juices. Be modest this time, Congrio--wary
and modest. Modesty is the nurse of great actions; and in all other
things, as in this, if thou wilt not spare thy master's purse, at least
consult thy master's glory.'
'There shall not be such a coena seen at Pompeii since the days of
Hercules.'
'Softly, softly--thy cursed boasting again! But I say, Congrio, yon
homunculus--yon pigmy assailant of my cranes--yon pert-tongued neophyte
of the kitchen, was there aught but insolence on his tongue when he
maligned the comeliness of my sweetmeat shapes? I would not be out of
the fashion, Congrio.'
'It is but the custom of us cooks,' replied Congrio, gravely, to
undervalue our tools, in order to increase the effect of our art. The
sweetmeat shape is a fair shape, and a lovely; but I would recommend my
master, at the first occasion, to purchase some new ones of a...'
'That will suffice,' exclaimed Diomed, who seemed resolved never to
allow his slave to finish his sentences. 'Now, resume thy
charge--shine----eclipse thyself. Let men envy Diomed his cook--let the
slaves of Pompeii style thee Congrio the great! Go! yet stay--thou hast
not spent all the moneys I gave thee for the marketing?' '"All!" alas!
the nightingales' tongues and the Roman tomacula, and the oysters from
Britain, and sundry other things, too numerous now to recite, are yet
left unpaid for. But what matter? every one trusts the Archimagirus of
Diomed the wealthy!'
'Oh, unconscionable prodigal!--what waste!--what profusion!--I am
ruined! But go, hasten--inspect!--taste!--perform!--surpass thyself!
