K;5 5 
 
CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THIS BOOK IS ONE OF A 
 COLLECTION MADE BY 
 
 BENNO LOEWY 
 1854-1919 
 
 AND BEQUEATHED TO 
 CORNELL UNIVERSITY 
 
The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924027464183 
 
WOEK WHILE YE HATE THE 
 LIGHT. 
 
 TRANSLATED PROM THE RDSSIAN OP 
 
 COUNT LYOF TOLSTOI 
 
 BY 
 
 E. H. DILLON, Ph.D. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 A NUMBER of guests were once gathered 
 under the hospitable roof of a rich man, 
 and it came to pass one day that their con- 
 versation took a serious turn, the theme being 
 human life. 
 
 They discussed persons who were present and 
 persons who were absent, but they were unable 
 to find among all their acquaintances one single 
 man who was satisfied with his hfe. Not that 
 any one of them had reason to grumble at 
 fortune ; but not one of them could pretend 
 to look upon the life he was leading as one 
 worthy of a Christian. They all admitted that 
 they were squandering away their existence in 
 a worldly manner, caring only for themselves 
 
6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and their families, taking no thought of their 
 neighbor and still less of God. 
 
 Such was the gist of their remarks and they 
 were singularly unanimous in finding them- 
 selves guilty of leading godless, unchristian 
 lives. 
 
 " Why, then, go on living in this miserable 
 way ? " exclaimed a youth who- had taken part 
 in the discussion. " Why continue to do what 
 we ourselves condemn ? Are we not masters 
 of our own lives, free to modify and change 
 them at our will ? About one thing we are all 
 perfectly clear : our luxury, our effeminacy, 
 our riches ; but more than all else our ovei- 
 weening pride, and our consequent isolation 
 from our brethren, are hurrying us on to 
 irreparable ruin. In order that we may become 
 distinguished and wealthy we are forced to 
 deprive ourselves of all that which constitutes 
 the joy of human life : we live huddled to- 
 gether in cities, we grow lax and enervated, 
 undermine our health, and in spite of all our 
 amusements die of ennui and of regret that 
 our life is so far removed from what it should 
 
INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 be. Now, why should we live so, why thus 
 ruthlessly blast our whole life — wantonly 
 trample upon a priceless boon conferred upon 
 us by God ? I, for one, will no longer debase 
 myself by living as heretofore. My unfinished 
 course of studies I will cast to the winds, for 
 they can lead me to nought else but that 
 bitterly painful existence of which you are all 
 now complaining. I will renounce my estates 
 and retire to the country where I will spend all 
 my time with the poor. I will work in their 
 midst, will inure myself to such manual labon- 
 as they perform, and should my intellectual 
 culture be needful to them, I wiU impart it, 
 not through the medium of establishments 
 and books but directly, living and working 
 among them as among brothers. Yes," he 
 concluded, casting an interrogative glance at 
 his father who stood there listening to his 
 words, " I have taken my decision." 
 
 "Your desire is noble at bottom," said his 
 father, " but it is the unripe fruit of an un- 
 developed brain. To you everything appears 
 thus feasible because you have not yet tasted 
 
8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 life. What would become of us and the world 
 at large if we were to pursue everything that 
 seemed good and desirable ! The realization 
 of all these desirable things is generally very 
 difficult and complicated. It is no easy matter 
 to make headway even along a smooth and 
 well-beaten track, but how hard must it not be 
 when we have to set to work to make aew 
 roads of our own ! Such fx task is only for 
 those members of the community who have 
 grown perfectly mature and have assimilated 
 the highest and best that is accessible to man. 
 To you the ordering of life upon wholly new 
 lines seems but child's play, because life to you 
 is still a sealed book. This is the outcome of 
 the thoughtlessness and pride of youth. Hence 
 it is that we sedate people, older in years and 
 wiser in knowledge, are indispensable in order 
 to moderate your fiery outbursts and give you 
 the benefit of our experience, while it is your 
 duty to submit to us and be guided by our 
 riper wisdom. Yours will be a hfe of activity 
 in future years ; at present you are in a period 
 of growth and development. Wait till your 
 
INTBODUCTIOK 9 
 
 education is completed, finish your studies, 
 develop your faculties to their fullest capacity, 
 stand on your own legs, form your own con- 
 victions and then adopt the new life you have 
 been sketching for us, if you feel that you 
 possess the needful strength. For the present 
 you are only expected to obey those who are 
 guiding you for your own' good and you are 
 not called upon to remodel human life upon a 
 new basis." 
 
 The young man remained silent and his 
 elders agreed that his father's advice was 
 sound. 
 
 "You are perfectly right," cried a middle- 
 aged married man, addressing his remarks to 
 the last speaker. " No doubt our young friend 
 here, utterly devoid as he is of experience, may 
 easily go astray in his gropings after new ways 
 in the labyrinth of life ; nor can his resolve be 
 seriously regarded as steadfast. At the same 
 time, however, we are all agreed that the lives 
 we are leading run counter to the promptings 
 of our consciences and are productive of no 
 good results to ourselves. Hence we cannot 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 but look with favor on the desire to effect a 
 thorough change in our manner of living. 
 Our young friend may, likely enough, mistake 
 his own fancy for a logical conclusion worked 
 out by his reason, but I am no longer a young 
 man and I will tell you what I think and feel 
 on the subject. 
 
 " Following attentively the discussion that 
 has been going on here this evening, the self- 
 same thought that occurred to him suggested 
 itself to me. Personally I have not the shadow 
 of a doubt that the life I am leading cannot 
 possibly confer upon me happiness or peace of 
 conscience. Reason and experience alike urge 
 this truth upon me. What, then, am I waiting 
 for ? From morning to night I toil and moil 
 for my family with the result that both they 
 and myself, far from hving up to the law of 
 God, are sinking deeper day by day in the 
 slough of sin. You work hard for your family, 
 but in the long run your family is not a whit 
 the better for your labor, because your efforts 
 are not a real benefit to it. Hence I often ask 
 myself whether it would not be much better it 
 
INTB OB UCTION. 11 
 
 I were to change my life completely and realize 
 the ideas which our young friend has so clearly 
 set before us, taking no thought of my wife 
 or children but caring only for the soul. It is 
 not without reason that Paul says : ' He that is 
 married careth for the things that are of the 
 world, how he may please his wife. . . He 
 that is unmarried careth for the things that 
 belong to the Lord, how he may please the 
 Lord.' " 
 
 Almost before the speaker could recite this 
 short text to the end, all the women present, 
 his own wife among the number, indignantly 
 protested. 
 
 "You should have thought of this long 
 before," exclaimed an elderly lady who had 
 been attentively listening. " You have made 
 your bed and must lie on it now. It would 
 be a truly pretty state of things, in which 
 every one who found it difficult to maintain his 
 wife and family might shirk his duty by 
 merely signifying a wish to save his soul. 
 This is but fraud and baseness. A man ought 
 to be able to lead a good, upright life in the 
 
12 INTBODUGTIOK 
 
 bosom of his family ; to save ourselves alone 
 needs no great art ; nay, more, it is even con- 
 trary to Christ's teaching. God commands us 
 to love others, and here are you wanting to 
 injure others for God's sake ! The truth is 
 that a married man has certain well-defined 
 duties and obligations and he should not neg- 
 lect them. It is quite a different matter when 
 the family is already cared for, brought up, 
 and all its members put standing on their own 
 legs. Then you may do as you like for your- 
 self. But surely no one has a right to break 
 up his family." 
 
 To this the married man did not assent. 
 " It is not my purpose," he replied, " to aban- 
 don my family. I merely contend that it is 
 my duty to bring up my family, my children, 
 in an unworldly manner, not accustoming them 
 to live for their own pleasures, but, as was 
 suggested a few moments ago, inuring them 
 to want, to work, teaching them to give a help- 
 ing hand to their fellows and above all to treat 
 all men as brothers. And to this end it is indis- 
 pensable to renounce distinction and riches." 
 
INTRODUCTION, 13 
 
 "It is quite absurd for you to go talking 
 about breaking in others to the new life while 
 you yourself are further from it than any of 
 us," exclaimed his wife with much warmth. 
 " You have always lived in the lap of luxury 
 from your childhood upwards and why should 
 you now wish to torture your wife and children ? 
 Let them grow up in peace and quiet and then 
 leave them to undertake for themselves what- 
 ever line of life commends itself to them ; but 
 don't you go compelling them to embrace this 
 way of living or that." 
 
 To this the married man made no reply, but 
 an aged man sitting near him delivered himself 
 as follows : " It is quite true, no doubt, that a 
 married man who has accustomed his wife and 
 children to ease and comfort should not de- 
 prive them of it all of a sudden. There is also 
 great force in the argument that once the 
 education of the children has been begun on 
 certain lines, it is much better to continue and 
 complete it, than to break it ofE to commence 
 something else ; especially as the children 
 themselves, when grown up, will not fail to 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 choose the way that is best for them. I am 
 therefore of opinion that it is difficult — nay, 
 and sinful, too — for a married man to change 
 his life. It is quite a different matter with us 
 old men, whom God himself, so to say, has 
 commanded to do so. I may, perhaps, be 
 allowed to speak for myself : I live practically 
 without any duties or obligations whatever ; I 
 live, if the truth must be told, solely for my 
 belly. I eat, drink, rest myself, and am myself 
 disgusted and sick of it all. Now, for me, it is 
 surely high time to abandon this wretched life, 
 to distribute my earthly goods and to live, 
 now, at least, on the eve of my death, as God 
 ordained that Christians should live." 
 
 But even the old man found no support. 
 His niece was present, and his godchild, all of 
 whose children he had held at the baptismal 
 font and gratified with presents on hohdays 
 ever since, and also his own son. They one 
 and all objected. 
 
 " No, no," said his son. " You have worked 
 quite hard enough in your time and it is meet 
 that you should now rest and not kill yourself 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 outright. You have lived for sixty years with 
 your tastes and habits and it is not at this time 
 of day that you can think of giving them up. 
 The outcome of any such attempt on your part 
 would be that you would subject yourself to 
 great torture with no result whatever." 
 
 " Quite so," chimed in his niece ; " and when 
 you are in want, you know, you will be out of 
 sorts and always grumbling and consequently 
 will be sinning more grievously than ever 
 before. Besides, God is merciful and pardons 
 all sinners, not to speak of such a dear, good 
 uncle as yourself." 
 
 " Yes, and why should we stir in this matter 
 at all ? " asked another old man of the same 
 age as the uncle. " You and I have perhaps 
 two days more to live. Why fritter them 
 away in making plans and projects ? " 
 
 " How extraordinary ! " cried one of the 
 guests. (He had uttered no word during the 
 entire discussion.) " How incomprehensible ! 
 We are all agreed that we should hve in 
 accordance with God's law and that we are 
 actually living badly, sinfully, and are suffer- 
 
16 INTR OD UCTION. 
 
 ing in body and in soul in consequence, and 
 yet no sooner is it a question of putting our 
 conclusions in practice than we discover that 
 children should be exempted — they, forsooth, 
 are not to be disciplined in the new life, but 
 educated on the old lines. Then young men 
 should not go against the will of their parents, 
 and so instead of embracing the new ideas 
 should make the best of the old. Married men, 
 again, have no right to discipline their wives 
 and children and inure them to the new way of 
 living — and so they, too, should live the sinful 
 life of the past. As for old men, it is too late 
 for them to begin ; they are not accustomed to 
 the hardships of the new life, and, besides, they 
 have only two or three days left to live. 
 
 " It appears, therefore, that no one should 
 lead a good, upright, spiritual life, — the utmost 
 people may do is to discourse about it." 
 
WORK WHILE YE HAYE 
 THE LIGHT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 TT happened in the reign of the Roman Em- 
 peror Trajan, one hundred years after the 
 birth of Christ. The disciples of Christ's dis- 
 ciples were still in the flesh and the Christians 
 of that day held fast to the law of the Master, 
 as the author of the Acts of the Apostles tells 
 us : " And the multitude of them that believed 
 were of one heart and of one soul : neither 
 said any of them that aught of the things 
 which he possessed was his own ; but they had 
 all things in common. And with great power 
 gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of 
 the Lord Jesus : and great grace was upon 
 
18 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 them all. Neither was there any among them 
 that lacked : for as many as were possessors of 
 lands or houses sold them and brought the 
 prices of the things that were sold, and laid 
 them down at the apostles' feet : and distribu- 
 tion was made unto every man according as he 
 had need." 
 
 In those early years of Christianity there 
 lived in the province of Cilicia in the town of 
 Tarsus a wealthy Syrian merchant named Juve- 
 nal, who dealt in precious stones. By birth he 
 belonged to the poorest and lowest class of the 
 community, but by dint of hard work and by 
 the skill he acquired in his calling he accumu- 
 lated considerable riches and won the respect 
 of his fellow citizens. He had travelled much 
 in various lands, and, although he possessed 
 no claims to be regarded as learned or edu- 
 cated, he had seen and assimilated much, 
 and his fellow burghers held him in high 
 esteem for his sound intellect and keen sense 
 of justice. He professed the faith of Pagan 
 Rome, the religion to which all respectable 
 citizens of the Koman Empire belonged ; 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 19 
 
 its forms and ceremonies began to be strictly 
 enforced in the reign of the Emperor Augus- 
 tus and were still rigidly observed by the 
 Emperor Trajan. The province of Cilicia is 
 at a considerable distance from Rome ; but it 
 was ruled by a Roman governor and the 
 effects of every wave of progress and retro- 
 gression that passed over Rome were distinctly 
 felt in Cilicia, whose governors were ever eager 
 to imitate their emperor. 
 
 Juvenal had a vivid recollection of the 
 stories he had heard, when a lad, of Nero's life 
 and death ; it was within his own memory how 
 emperor after emperor had come to an un- 
 timely end ; and, like a shrewd observer, he per- 
 ceived that there was nothing sacred either in 
 the imperial power or in the Roman religion, — 
 that both were the work of human hands. This 
 same native shrewdness of his served likewise 
 to bring home to his mind the futility of rising 
 up against the imperial authority, and the 
 necessity, for his own peace and happiness, of 
 submitting to the established order of things. 
 Yet, for all this, he was often bewildered by 
 
20 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 the wild disorder of the life around him, es- 
 pecially in Rome itself, whither his affairs fre- 
 quently took him. And at such times he was 
 seized with disquieting doubts ; but he regained 
 his wonted composure by reflecting that his 
 mind was too circumscribed to take in every 
 point of view, too undisciplined to draw the 
 right conclusions from such facts as he ob- 
 served. He was married and had had four chil- 
 dren, three of whom died young. His surviv- 
 ing son was named Julius. 
 
 In Julius was centred all his love j he was 
 the object of all his tender care. It was his 
 special endeavor so to educate and train up 
 this boy as to spare him in after life the excru- 
 ciating pains which he himself experienced 
 from his frequent doubts and perplexities 
 about the problem of life. 
 
 When Julius attained his fifteenth year his 
 father confided him to the care of a philoso* 
 pher who had come to live in the town for the 
 purpose of taking in young men and educat- 
 ing them. Into the charge of this teacher he 
 gave his son and his son's young comi'ade Pam- 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 21 
 
 philius, the son of a freedman of his who had 
 died some time previously. The boys were 
 of the same age, both of them handsome, 
 manly young fellows, and good friends to 
 boot. 
 
 They applied themselves vigorously to their 
 studies and made rapid progress. They were 
 also both of them well conducted. Julius 
 evinced a marked predilection for letters and 
 mathematics, while Pamphilius' taste led him 
 to pursue the study of philosophy. 
 
 A year before the completion of the pre- 
 scribed course of studies, Pamphilius came into 
 school one day and informed the master that 
 his widowed mother intended to leave the city 
 for good and settle with a few friends in the 
 little town of Daphne, that it would be his 
 duty to accompany her and make himself use- 
 ful to her, and that he must, in consequence, 
 withdraw from the school and bring his studies 
 thus abruptly to an end. 
 
 The master was sorry to lose a pupil who re- 
 flected such credit on his teacher, Juvenal 
 likewise regretted the departure of his son's 
 
22 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 bosom friend, but no one felt his loss so keenly 
 as Julius. Pamphilius, however, remained deaf 
 to all their entreaties that he should spend 
 another year at school and finish his education. 
 Thanking his friends for the many proofs they 
 had given him of their affection, he bade them 
 good'by and departed. 
 
 Two years whirled past. Julius had com- 
 pleted his course of studies without having 
 once seen his friend. One day he was agreeably 
 surprised to meet him on the street ; he asked 
 him to his father's house, where he examined 
 and cross-examined him as to where and how 
 he had lived since they parted. Pamphilius 
 told him that he was still living with his 
 mother in the same place. 
 
 " We are not living alone," he added. " We 
 have many friends with us, with whom we en- 
 joy everything in common." 
 
 " How do you mean in common ? " asked 
 Julius. 
 
 " So that none of us looks upon anything as 
 his own property." 
 
 " Why do you do that, may I ask ? " 
 
JTArH THE LIGHT. 23 
 
 " Because we are Christians," answered Pam- 
 philius. 
 
 " Is it possible ! " cried Julius. 
 
 Now to be a Christian in those days meant 
 about the same thing as being a conspirator in 
 these. The moment a person was convicted of 
 belonging to the Christian sect he was arrested, 
 tried, and, if he refused- to abjure his faith, put 
 to death. It was the consciousness of all this 
 that terrified Julius when he learned that his 
 comrade had embraced the new faith. He had 
 heard unutterable horrors attributed to the 
 Christians. 
 
 "I am told that Christians butcher little 
 children and eat them. Can it be that you, 
 too, take part in these atrocities ? " 
 
 " Come and see for yourself," replied Pam- 
 phUius. " We do nothing out of the common ; 
 we live in a simple way, striving to do nothing 
 bad." 
 
 " But how, pray, is it possible to get along 
 without looking upon anything as your own 
 property ? " 
 
 " We support ourselves. And if we labor 
 
24 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 in the service of our brethren, they in turn 
 share with us the fruits of their toil." 
 
 " Well, but how if your brethren take your 
 services and give, you nothing in return ? " in- 
 sisted Julius. 
 
 " We have no such persons among us," 
 rephed Pamphilius. "People of that bent 
 have a taste for hving luxuriously, and it is not 
 in our community that they will come to seek 
 the realization of their desires ; our living is 
 simple, not luxurious nor even comfortable." 
 
 " Yes ; but there exists a goodly number of 
 lazy, idle people who ask nothing better than 
 to be kept and fed for nothing." 
 
 " There certainly are such persons, and we re- 
 ceive them and give them a hearty welcome. 
 We lately had a man of that description — a 
 runaway slave. At first he led a lazy, good- 
 for-nothing life ; but he soon turned over a new 
 leaf and is now an exemplary brother." 
 
 " Well, but what if he had not reformed ? " 
 
 " There are some of that category, also ; our 
 elder, Cyril, says that it is especially incumbent 
 upon us to treat such people as dearly beloved 
 
SAVH THE LIGHT. 25 
 
 brethren and to let slip no opportunity of show- 
 ing them our love." 
 
 " But is it possible to love rascals ? " 
 " It is wrong not to love your fellow-men." 
 " Tell me, now, how you can bring yourselves 
 to give every one whatever it pleases him to 
 ask of you ? " inquired Julius. " I know," he 
 added, " that if my father were to give every one 
 what he wants and asks for, in a very short 
 space of time he would be as poor as when he 
 came into the world." 
 
 " I cannot say," PamphiHus made answer ; 
 " but somehow we always have enough to satisfy 
 our needs. And if it should come to pass that 
 we have nothing to eat or to cover our bodies 
 with, we ask what we lack of others and they do 
 not withhold it. That happens but very rarely, 
 however. For my part, I have only once had 
 to lie down at night without having had my 
 supper, and even then it was chiefly because I 
 was fairly tired out that evening and did not 
 feel disposed to go off to one of the brethren 
 and ask him for a meal." 
 
 " Well, of course, I don't pretend to know 
 
26 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 how you manage these things," ohserved Julius ; 
 " but my father maintains that if he did not 
 look carefully after his own, and if he were to 
 give to all who came begging, he would very 
 soon be eaten out of house and home and left 
 to die of hunger.' 
 
 "We don't die of hunger. But you had 
 better come and see for yourself. Not only are 
 we alive, and not in want, but we have even a 
 superfluity." 
 
 " How do you explain it ? " 
 
 " In this way. We all profess one and the 
 same law, but the degree of strength we possess 
 to observe it varies greatly; one man being 
 endowed with a much greater degree of it than 
 another. Thus one person may have already 
 attained to perfection in the good life, while 
 another may be still struggling with the difficul- 
 ties that are met with at the outset. High 
 above us all, Christ stands clearly out with His 
 life, and it is our constant endeavor to imitate 
 Him. In this we place our happiness. Some 
 members of our community, like the elder Cyril, 
 for instance, and the woman Pelagea, are farther 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 27 
 
 advanced than any of ns ; others stand close 
 behind them, others again are still further 
 behind — but we are all of us moving 
 forward in the same direction, on the same 
 road. 
 
 " The pioneers are already near the law of 
 Christ — abrogation of sel£ — having lost their 
 souls in order to find them. Men of this type 
 want nothing. They feel no pity for them- 
 selves, and to fulfil Christ's law they would glad- 
 ly give the last loaf, the last garment to him who 
 asks for it. There are others — weaker souls, 
 who cannot as yet give up everything. They 
 grow faint and take pity upon themselves. 
 They lose their strength without their usual 
 food or clothing and so they cannot yet bring 
 themselves to give away everything demanded 
 of them. 
 
 " There are others still weaker than these — 
 persons who have only recently entered upon 
 the right road. They stiU go on living as 
 before ; hoarding up many things for their own 
 use and giving alms only of their superfluity. 
 Now these soldiers of the rear guard afford 
 
28 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 material help and support to those who are in 
 the front ranks. 
 
 " Moreover it should not be lost sight of that 
 we are all entangled in the web of kinship with 
 Pagans. One brother has a father still living 
 who is an idolater ; he owns an estate and he 
 gives an allowance to his son. The son dis- 
 tributes it in alms, and the father in due time 
 forwards more. Another has a Pagan mother 
 who commiserates her son and sends him help. 
 In another case it is the children who are 
 heathens whUe the mother is a Christian. The 
 children, anxious to insure their mother's com- 
 fort, give her what they can afford, entreating 
 her not to distribute it to others. She accepts 
 it out of love for them, but forthwith gives it 
 away. In other cases the wife is a Pagan 
 and the husband a Christian, or else the reverse. 
 
 " Thus it is that we are all inextricably en- 
 tangled. Those in front would be happy to 
 give away the last crust of bread, the last rag 
 of clothing, but they cannot, for what seems the 
 last is always succeeded by another. It is in 
 this wise that the weak are always being 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 29 
 
 strengthened in the faith, and the same state of 
 things explains why it is that we are never with- 
 out the superfluous." 
 
 To which Julius made answer as follows : " If 
 that he so, it is obvious that you swerve consid- 
 erably from the teaching of Christ, and put 
 seeming in the place of being. If you do not 
 give away everything, there is no difference 
 whatever between you and us. To my think- 
 ing, if you once set up to be a Christian, you 
 should go about it in a thorough fashion and 
 fulfil every iota of the law, distributing every- 
 thing in alms and remaining a beggar." 
 
 '' Truly, that would be best of all," assented 
 Pamphilius ; " why do you not do so ? " 
 
 "I will, when you Christians set me the 
 example." 
 
 " Oh, we have no wish to do anything for 
 the sake of show. Nor should I advise you to 
 come over to us, and leave your own surround- 
 ings, merely for the sake of effect. Whatever 
 we do is undertaken in virtue of our faith." 
 
 " What do you mean by the expression, ' in 
 virtue of our faith ? ' " 
 
30 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 " I mean that we hold that escape from the 
 evils of the world, from death, is to be found 
 only in life as Christ understood it. As to what 
 people will say of us, it does not matter at all. 
 We live as we do, not in order to please people, 
 but because we see therein the only means of 
 obtaining life and happiness." 
 
 "It is impossible not to live for oneself," 
 objected Julius. " The gods have made it part 
 of our nature that we should love ourselves 
 more dearly than all others, and should seek 
 our own enjoyment. And this is precisely what 
 you Christians also do. You have admitted, 
 yourself, that the pity which many of your 
 brethren feel is for themselves. They will go 
 on gradually seeking more and more keenly 
 their own pleasures and in a corresponding 
 degree throwing aside the teachings of your 
 faith, and in this they will be doing just as we 
 do." 
 
 " No ; not so," replied Pamphdius. " Our 
 brethren are travelling on a different road, and 
 they never grow fainter and weaker, but con- 
 tinually stronger, just as fire never goes out 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 31 
 
 as long as fuel is continued to be heaped upon 
 it. Such is the force of faith." 
 
 " StiU I fail to see in what this faith consists ? " 
 
 " Our faith consists in this, that we under- 
 stand life as Christ interpreted it for us." 
 
 " And that is ? " 
 
 " Christ once related the following parable : 
 Certain husbandmen cultivated a vineyard 
 planted by a householder, for which they were 
 bound to give him of the fruit. We who live 
 in the world are these husbandmen, and we are 
 bound to pay tribute to God, to fulfil His will. 
 But the people who lived and believed with the 
 world imagined that the vineyard was theirs ; 
 that they had nothing to pay for it, but might 
 enjoy the fruits it brought forth, without more 
 ado. And the lord of the vineyard sent a ser- 
 vant to collect the tribute, but they drove him 
 away. He then despatched his son, but they 
 killed him, thinking that after this no one 
 would ever again interfere with them. Now, 
 this is the world's faith, by which all worldlings 
 regulate their lives, ignoring the fact that life 
 is given to be spent in God. Christ taught us 
 
32 WOSK WHILE YE 
 
 that the faith of the world — namely, that it 
 "will be better for a man if he drives the lord's 
 servant and his son out of his garden and 
 refuses to pay tribute — is false, because every 
 man must either pay tribute or be ejected from 
 the vineyard. He taught us that the things 
 which we term pleasures — eating, drinking, 
 amusements and the rest — are not and cannot 
 be pleasures, if we make them our aim in life; 
 that they become joys only when we place our 
 happiness in something different : namely, the 
 fulfilment of God's will. Then, and only then, 
 are these pleasures experienced, as something 
 added to, and contingent upon, the performance 
 of God's behests. To wish to enjoy the pleas- 
 ures without being at the trouble of doing God's 
 will — to pluck out the flowers, as it were, from 
 among the thorns of labor — is as wise as it would 
 be to gather stalks and plant them without the 
 roots. This is our faith, and it is in virtue of 
 it that we refuse to go in search of an illusion 
 instead of the truth. We know that the happi- 
 ness of life is not bound up with its pleasures, 
 but lies in the fulfilment of the wiU of God 
 
JIAVE THE LIGHT. 33 
 
 without our entertaining a thought or a hope of 
 any pleasure. And we live thus, in consequence ; 
 and the longer we live, the more clearly we per- 
 ceive that enjoyment and bliss follow close upon 
 the performance of God's wiU, as the wheels of 
 the cart follow the shaft. Our Master said : 
 ' Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest.' " 
 
 Thus spoke Pamphilius. Julius listened 
 with rapt attention and his heart was touched 
 by what he heard ; but still he was not quite 
 clear as to the significance of all that Pamphil- 
 ius had been saying. One moment he sus- 
 pected his friend of attempting to deceive 
 him ; an instant later, as he gazed steadily into 
 his mild, truthful eyes, he persuaded himself 
 that Pamphilius was deceiving himself. 
 
 Pamphilius invited his friend to pay him a 
 visit, during which he might study the life of 
 their community for himself, and, should it 
 please him, to take up his abode with them for 
 the rest of his days. And Julius promised 
 that he would. 
 
 He promised, but he did not visit Pamphil- 
 
34 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 ius; and, carried away by the whirl of the 
 life of a large city, he soon forgot all about 
 him. He seemed to have an instinctive fear 
 that the life of the Christians might prove too 
 attractive for him to withstand. He therefore 
 pictured it to himself as an existence in which 
 one had to renounce all the bright sides of life. 
 And he could not prevail upon himself to give 
 them up, because in them he centred the aim 
 and object of his life. He blamed and con- 
 demned the Christians, and he set great store 
 by this condemnation ; he was apprehensive 
 lest he might some time or other cease to 
 condemn them, and for this reason he availed 
 himself of every opportunity that offered, to 
 seek for the seamy side of Christianity. When- 
 ever and wherever he came in contact with 
 Christians in the city, he invariably discovered 
 some pretext in their conduct for censuring 
 them. When he saw them in the market- 
 place selling fruit and vegetables, he would say 
 to himself and sometimes to them : " You 
 profess to own nothing and yet here you are 
 selling products for money, instead of giving 
 
RA VE THE LIGHT. 35 
 
 them away for nothing to whoever wants to 
 take them. You are deluding yourselves and 
 deceiving others." And he refused to listen to 
 their arguments by which they sought to con- 
 vince him that it was necessary and just that 
 they should sell their products in the market 
 and not give them away. Whenever he saw a 
 Christian wearing a good, well-made article of 
 clothing, he never failed to reproach him with 
 inconsistency for not having given it away. 
 It was indispensable to his peace of mind that 
 Christians should be wrong, and, as they never 
 denied that they were in fault, they were 
 always guilty in his eyes. He looked upon 
 them as Pharisees, deceivers, whose force lay 
 in their high-flown phrases, and their weakness 
 in action. And of himself he remarked, by 
 way of contrast : " I, at least, profess what I 
 practise, whereas you say one thing and do 
 another." And having persuaded himself that 
 this was really so, he felt quite reassured, and 
 continued to live as before. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 By nature Julius was gifted with a mild, 
 amiable disposition ; but like most young men 
 of his time and country he was the owner of 
 slaves whom he often punished in a barbarous 
 manner, either when they neglected to carry 
 out his commands or simply when he himself 
 was out of sorts. He was the possessor of a 
 collection of precious, useless curios and rich 
 costumes to which he was continually making 
 new additions. He was also fond of theatres 
 and spectacles, and from his youth upwards 
 provided himself with mistresses ; and he often 
 abandoned himself, in the society of his friends, 
 to gross excesses in eating and drinking. In a 
 word, his life glided onwards smoothly and 
 gayly — as it seemed to him ; for he could not 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 37 
 
 himself survey its course. It was made up 
 almost exclusively of amusements, and the 
 number of them was so great that he lacked 
 even the time to give the matter a thought. 
 
 Two years passed rapidly away in this seem- 
 ingly delightful manner ; and Julius took it 
 for granted that all the years of life must 
 naturally roll by as pleasantly as these two. 
 But in the nature of things this is an utter 
 impossibility ; for in a life like that which 
 Julius was leading it is indispensable to go on 
 continually increasing and intensifying the 
 amusements in order to maintain the pleasure 
 undiminished. If, in the beginning, he enjoyed 
 quaffing a goblet of mellow wine in the com- 
 pany of a friend, the pleasure cloyed after 
 several repetitions, and he soon found it 
 necessary to drink two or three such goblets 
 of still better wine, in order to obtain the 
 same amount of enjoyment. If at first it was 
 pleasant to while away an hour or two in 
 converse with a friend, the pleasure soon wore 
 ofP, and in order to spend that time with an 
 equal degree of satisfaction it soon became 
 
38 WORK WlilLE YE 
 
 needful to substitute a female for a male friend ; 
 and later on even this failed of its efPect and 
 something else was required. In time this new 
 arrangement likewise proved a failure : the 
 same friends, even though they be female 
 friends, become tiresome in the end and have 
 to be changed. And so with all his pastimes 
 and amusements : in order to make them yield 
 the same amount of pleasure it became neces- 
 sary to increase and intensify them, to make 
 greater demands on the cooperation of others ; 
 and for people who do not happen to be rulers 
 there was and is but one way of making other 
 people comply with one's wishes — namely, by 
 means of money. It was so with Julius. He 
 gave himself up to pleasures of the body, and, 
 not being a ruler, could not command others to 
 be subservient to his desires, so that to pur- 
 chase their cooperation and increase his pleas- 
 ures he needed money. 
 
 Now Julius's father was a rich man, and as 
 he loved and was proud of his only son he 
 opened wide his purse to gratify his every whim, 
 stinting bira in uotbing. Julius's life; there* 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 39 
 
 fore, was that of rich young men all the world 
 over, — one of idleness, luxury and immoral 
 amusements which have always been and will 
 ever remain the same : wine, gambling and 
 light, venal woman. 
 
 But his pleasures continued to absorb ever- 
 increasing sums of money, and his sources of 
 income frequently ran dry. One day he asked 
 his father for a larger sum than usual. His 
 father granted his request but reprimanded 
 him for his prodigality. Julius knew in his 
 heart that he was guilty and that the re- 
 proaches were well merited ; but he could not 
 bear to admit his guilt, and so he lost his 
 temper and was insolent to his father, as is 
 usually the way with persons who know them- 
 selves to be in fault but are unwilling to 
 confess it. He received the sum he asked for 
 and speedily squandered it. What was still 
 worse, he and a drunken comrade picked a 
 quarrel with some man and killed him. The 
 city prefect, informed of what had taken place, 
 had Julius taken into custody ; but his father, 
 after considerable exertions, succeeded in ob- 
 
40 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 taming his pardon. During all this time^ 
 the demands on Julius's purse, in consequence 
 of the troubles into which his pleasures plunged 
 him, became greater and more frequent. He 
 borrowed a large sum of a comrade, promising 
 soon to refund it. Moreover his mistress 
 selected this time of all others to demand more 
 presents : she had taken a fancy to a necklace 
 of pearls, and he could see that if he did not 
 humor her caprice in the matter she would 
 shake him off and give him a successor in the 
 person of a wealthy man who had made re- 
 peated attempts to supplant Julius. In his 
 straits Julius went to his mother, told her that, 
 come what would, he must have the money, 
 and that if she could not raise the sum needed 
 he would put an end to his existence. 
 
 The circumstance that he had drifted into 
 this embarrassing situation he ascribed wholly 
 to his father ; to himself he took no share of 
 the blame. " My father," he argued, " first 
 accustomed me to a life of luxury, and now 
 he turns round and grudges me the funds 
 necessary to maintain it. If, in the beginning, 
 
HAVH TEE LIGHT. 41 
 
 he had given me, without any reproaches, the 
 sums he gave later on, I should have been able 
 to arrange my life very comfortably, steering 
 clear of impecuniosity and want. But, as he 
 always insisted on doling out his money in 
 mites, I never possessed enough for my needs 
 and had to have dealings with usurers, who 
 suck me as a spider sucks a fly ; and now 
 that I lack the wherewithal to keep up the 
 kind of life to which I am accustomed, and 
 which alone beseems young men of my station, 
 I am ashamed to meet my friends and com- 
 panions, and my father obstinately refuses to 
 put himself in my position and realize my 
 difficulties. He forgets that he, too, was once 
 young. Why, it is actually he whom I have 
 to blame for everything I am now enduring ; 
 and if he does not give me the sum I have 
 asked for I will kill myself. That's just the 
 long and the short of it." 
 
 His mother, who had always spoiled her son, 
 straightway went to her husband. He sent for 
 his son and bitterly reproached both him and 
 his mother. Julius made insolent replies. His 
 
42 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 father struck him. He seized his father by 
 the hand. His father shouted for the slaves 
 and ordered them to bind his son and lock 
 him up. 
 
 In the solitude of his room JuHus cursed 
 his father and his life. His own or his father's 
 death suggested itself to his mind as the only 
 issue out of his present desperate condition. 
 
 Julius's mother suffered infinitely more than 
 her son. She did not pause to inquire who was 
 really to blame in all this. She was possessed by 
 one sole sentiment — compassion for her un- 
 happy child. She again, sought out her husband 
 and implored him to forgive the boy. Instead 
 of listening to what she had to urge, he reviled 
 her and accused her of having demoralized her 
 son. She hurled back his reproaches, and the 
 scene ended by her husband beating her. 
 Undaunted by what had come of her inter- 
 cession with her husband, she yielded again to 
 her maternal instinct, which prompted her 
 to hurry off to her son and beg him to ask 
 his father's forgiveness. In return for this 
 sacrifice on his part she promised to supply him 
 
HAVE TEE LIGHT. 43 
 
 with the sum of money he required, unknown 
 to his father. He assented, and she then went 
 to her husband and implored him to forgive 
 his son. At first he loaded mother and son 
 with reproaches, but at last he agreed to 
 pardon his son on one condition — that he 
 would abandon forever his dissolute life and 
 marry the daughter of a certain wealthy mer- 
 chant, whose consent he undertook to obtain. 
 
 " He will receive money from me as well as 
 a dowry from his bride," he added, " and then 
 let him begin to lead a new, regular life. If 
 he promises to do my will in this matter, I 
 forgive him. At present I will give him noth- 
 ing, and on his first offence I will hand him 
 over to the city authorities." 
 
 Julius accepted the terms proposed by his 
 father and was set at liberty. He promised 
 to marry as directed, and to live a reformed 
 life, but he had not the slightest intention of 
 doing either. His life at home had become a 
 hell to him. His father never spoke to him, 
 and was perpetually upbraiding his mother on 
 his account. His mother was continually in tears. 
 
44 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 The day following his release his mother 
 sent for him and secretly handed him over the 
 promised jewels which she had abstracted from 
 her husband. " Here they are," she said ; 
 " take them away and sell them, but not here. 
 Dispose of them in some other city and do 
 with the proceeds what you say is necessary. 
 I think I can answer for their disappearance 
 remaining undiscovered for some days at least. 
 But if it should leak out, I will put the blame 
 on one of the slaves." 
 
 Julius's heart was greatly troubled by these 
 words of his mother. He was horrified at 
 what she had done for him, and without taking 
 or touching the precious stones he left the 
 house. Why and whither was he going ? He 
 knew not. He went on and on, beyond the 
 city boundaries, feeling the absolute necessity 
 of being alone and of meditating on all that 
 had happened to him and on what still awaited 
 him. Leaving the city behind him, he en- 
 tered a shady grove sacred to the Goddess 
 Diana. Making for a solitary spot there, he 
 gave himself up to meditation. His first 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 45 
 
 Impulse "was to pray to the goddess and ask 
 her for help. But he no longer believed in 
 the gods of the empire, and knew that prayers 
 to them would prove unavaiHng and that 
 succor from that quarter was an impossibility. 
 But if they could not comfort and assist him, 
 who could? It appeared strange and pre- 
 posterous for him to be compelled to do his 
 own thinking in this matter. Disorder and 
 darkness reigned in his heart. And yet there 
 was no other alternative. There was nothing 
 for it but to appeal to his own conscience, and 
 in the lurid light it shed he began to scruti- 
 nize the main actions of his life. He discov- 
 ered that they were bad, and what he had 
 never before suspected — foolish. What made 
 him torment himself so ? What impelled him 
 to waste all the young years of his life so 
 wantonly ? The thoughts that these questions 
 suggested had little to console him and much 
 to make him miserable. What enhanced his 
 suffering more than all else was the feeling of 
 utter loneliness that oppressed him. Hitherto 
 he had had a loving mother, a father to look 
 
46 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 to ; he was not -without a certain number of 
 friends. But now he was quite alone in the 
 universe. No longer loved by any one, he was 
 a burden to all. He had crossed every one's 
 path in life : had caused his mother to quarrel 
 with his father, and had scattered to the winds 
 the riches that his father had spent the labor 
 of a lifetime in slowly accumulating ; he had 
 become a disagreeable and dangerous rival to 
 his friends. Was it so strange, then, if they 
 all longed for his death, as he supposed they 
 did? 
 
 Prominent among the figures that rose up 
 before his mind's eye during this roll-call of 
 past years was Pamphilius, cordially welcoming 
 him to the Christian community and bidding 
 him leave everything and cast in his lot with 
 them. And the impulse to do so grew strong 
 upon him. " But is my position, then, so 
 utterly hopeless ? " he asked himself ; and as he 
 again conjured up the events of recent years, 
 his heart sank within him at the thought that 
 no one loved him more. Father, mother, 
 friends could not possibly cherish any affection 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 47 
 
 for him ; indeed, they could not do otherwise 
 than desire his death. But did he himself 
 love any one ? He felt that he was attached to 
 none of his friends. They were all of them 
 his rivals and had not a throb of pity for him 
 now that his misfortunes were thick upon 
 him. And his father ? he asked himself. And 
 looking into his heart, to find the answer there, 
 was appalled at what he saw. Not only did he 
 not love his father, but he actually hated him 
 for the restrictions, the insults, he had put 
 upon him. Yes, hate was the word ; he hated 
 him ; and, more than that, he perceived clearly 
 that to his own happiness his father's death 
 was absolutely indispensable. 
 
 " Yes, this is so. And suppose I knew that 
 no one would ever see or hear of it, how would 
 I act, if I had it in my power to take his life at 
 a single blow and free myself from his tyr- 
 anny ? " And Julius distinctly rephed to him- 
 self, " I would kill him," and he was horrified 
 that it was so. " And my mother? " he asked. 
 " Yes, I pity but do not love her. I do not 
 care a straw what becomes of her; all I do 
 
48 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 want is her help . , . Why, I am a wild 
 beast ! A wild beast at bay, hounded down j 
 and the sole difference between myself and the 
 beast is that I can, if I so will it, leave this 
 deceitful, wicked life. I can do what the wild 
 beast cannot — kill myself. I hate my father ; 
 I love no one — neither mother nor friends. 
 Perhaps Pamphilius alone." 
 
 And he again reverted to his friend ; calling 
 to mind their last meeting, their conversation 
 and the words of Christ cited by Pamphihus : 
 " Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest." " Can that 
 be true ? " he asked himself. He began to stir 
 up his recollections of the discussion with Pam- 
 phihus, and his memory dwelt with predilection 
 on the serene, fearless and joyful countenance 
 of his friend, and he was filled with a desire 
 to see and hear him again, and above all to 
 believe what he had been told by him. " Who 
 am I after all ? A man in search of happiness. 
 I sought for it in luxury and lust, but failed to 
 find it there. And those who live as I have 
 tried to live will fail in hke manner. They are 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 49 
 
 all malicious and are all of them suffering. On 
 the other hand, there is one man who is always 
 joyful, because he is not in search of anything. 
 He tells me that there are many such as he ; 
 that all men may become such ; that I, for 
 one, can, if I be so minded, on condition that 
 I carry out the precepts given by his Master. 
 Now what if all this be true ? 
 
 *' True or not true, there's an attraction 
 about it which I cannot withstand. I shall go." 
 
 And repeating this to himself, Julius passed 
 out of the shady grove, and, determined never 
 again to return home, wended his way to the 
 village in which the Christians lived. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Julius walked on briskly, his spirits rising 
 in proportion as he drew nearer the village and 
 the colors grew more distinct and lifelike in 
 the picture he set before his mind of the life 
 led by the Christians. 
 
 Just as the sun was sinking beneath the 
 horizon, and he was about to take a short rest, 
 he met a man by the wayside, reposing and 
 taking his evening meal. 
 
 He was a person of middle age, and, to judge 
 by externals, of considerable intellectual cult- 
 ure. He was seated, and was leisurely eating 
 olives and bread. As soon as he saw Julius 
 he said with a smile : " Good evening, young 
 man J you have still a long journey before you. 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 61 
 
 Be seated and rest yourself awhiis." Julius 
 thanked him and sat down beside him. 
 
 " Whither bound, may I ask ? " he queried. 
 
 " I am going to the Christians," replied 
 Julius ; and in answer to further questions he 
 narrated his whole life and the mental process 
 which had resulted in this sudden resolution. 
 
 The stranger listened attentively, and in 
 silence broken rarely by such questions as 
 seemed necessary to clear up some obscure 
 allusion, or throw light upon some event oi 
 opinion, the knowledge of which had been 
 taken for granted. Comment or opinion he 
 offered none. When at length Julius brought 
 his story to an end, he gathered up the food 
 that remained over after his meal was done, 
 adjusted his garments, and said : " Young 
 man, do not carry out your design ; you have 
 wandered away from the direct road. I know 
 life ; you do not. Listen : I shall analyze the 
 principal events of your past history and your 
 reflections upon them ; and after you have had 
 them presented to you in the form which they 
 have assumed in my mind, you can take any 
 
62 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 course that commends itself to you as a wise 
 one. You are young, wealthy, handsome, 
 strong — your heart is a seething whirlpool of. 
 raging passions. You now yearn for a quiet 
 retreat, in which those passions shall not 
 disturb you and you shall be spared the 
 suffering produced by their effects ; you are 
 willing, moreover, to believe that you will find 
 such a haven among the Christians. Now, 
 there is no such port of safety, dear young 
 friend, there or elsewhere ; because that which 
 agitates and torments you is not located in 
 CUicia or in Kome, but has its abode within 
 yourself. In the quiet of a sequestered vUlage 
 those same passions will rage within you and 
 convulse you — only a hundred-fold more vio- 
 lently than before. The fraud or mistake of 
 the Christians (I have no mind to judge them) 
 consists in their refusal to recognize human 
 nature. The only persons really capable of 
 putting Christian teaching into practice are 
 old men, in whom the snow and frost of age 
 have quenched the last embers of human 
 passion. A man in the flower of his years 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 53 
 
 and strength, especially a young man like 
 yourself, who has not yet tasted the fruits of 
 life and does not even know his own mind, 
 cannot submit to their law, because that law is 
 founded — not on human nature — but on 
 the idle imaginings of Christ their founder. 
 If you become one of them, you will continue 
 to suffer from the same causes as before, only 
 to a much greater extent. Now your passions 
 lure you out of the right road into devious 
 paths and byways ; but, having once gone 
 astray, you have it in your power to retrace 
 your steps and set yourself right ; and you 
 enjoy, besides, the satisfaction of passions set 
 free — i.e., the joy of life. But living as a 
 Christian, and curbing your passions, so to say, 
 by force, you will still be liable to go astray — 
 only more frequently and irremediably than 
 before ; and you will endure, over and above, 
 the undying torment caused by the unappeased 
 appetites of human nature. Let loose the 
 pent up water of a dam, and it will moisten 
 and fructify field and meadow and refresh the 
 beasts that are grazing thereon; dam it up, 
 
64 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 and it will delve into the soU and flow in a 
 thick, muddy stream. It is even so with the 
 human passions. The teaching of the Chris- 
 tians (with the exception of certain beliefs 
 with which they console and comfort them- 
 selves and on which I have no wish to dwell 
 at present), in so far as it affects their daily 
 life, may be summed up as follows : they 
 condemn violence ; they disapprove of wars 
 and courts of justice ; they refuse to recognize 
 property ; they repudiate the sciences and arts 
 — in a word, they eschew everything that 
 tends to make life bright and pleasant. Even 
 this would be well, if all men corresponded to 
 the description which they give of their teacher. 
 But, so far is this from being the case, that it 
 is an absolute impossibility. Men are naturally 
 evU-minded and swayed by their passions. It 
 is this constant play of the passions, and the 
 clashing and struggling that results, which 
 hold people fast in that network of conditions 
 in which they live. Savages know no restric- 
 tions ; a single individual among them would, 
 for the sake of glutting his lusts, annihilate 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 65 
 
 the entire world, if all men submitted to evil 
 as meekly as the Christians. If the gods 
 endowed men with a sentiment of anger, vindic- 
 tiveness, even of malice against the malicious, 
 we may take it that they did so because these 
 sentiments were necessary to the preservation 
 of human life. 
 
 " The Christians hold that these sentiments 
 are evil, and that without them men would be 
 happy : there would then be no murders, no 
 executions, no wars. This is true; but one 
 might just as well assei't that it would materi- 
 ally contribute to the happiness of men, if 
 they were relieved of the necessity of eating 
 and drinking ! 
 
 " There would, indeed, be no hunger nor 
 thirst, nor any of the calamities they produce. 
 But this supposition does not change human 
 nature one iota. And so it is with all the 
 other human passions : indignation, malice, 
 vindictiveness, even sexual love, and love of 
 luxury, pomp, and greatness, are likewise 
 characteristics of the gods, hence they are 
 also, in a modified form, traits proper to man- 
 
56 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 kind. Root out the necessity of nourishing 
 man, and at the same stroke you annihilate 
 man himself ; in like manner, demolish the 
 human passions and you thereby demolish 
 humanity itself. The same remark holds good 
 of property, which the Christians, it is alleged, 
 refuse to recognize. Look around you and 
 you will find that every vineyard, every kitchen 
 garden, every house, every mule, has been 
 produced solely and alone because property 
 existed and was respected. Abolish the princi- 
 ple of private property and there will not be a 
 single vineyard planted, not a beast of burden 
 trained or broken in. The Christians assert 
 that they possess no property ; still they enjoy 
 its fruits. They say that they have everything 
 in common, and that they bring in all their 
 possessions and put them together. But what 
 they bring in, they have received from men 
 who own property. They are simply throwing 
 dust in people's eyes, or, on the most favorable 
 supposition, are deceiving themselves. You 
 tell me that they work with their own hands to 
 support themselves; but what they produce 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 57 
 
 would not suffice to support them, if they did 
 not lay under contribution that which has 
 been produced by other people who recognize 
 the rights of property. If they did succeed 
 in supporting life, there would be no place in 
 their social system for the arts and sciences. 
 They deny the advantages of our arts and 
 sciences. And they cannot do otherwise. The 
 whole gist and tenor of their teaching is cal- 
 culated to lead man back to his primitive state, 
 to savagery, to beastliness. They cannot 
 employ the arts and sciences in the service of 
 humanity ; and, as they are wholly ignorant of 
 them, they reject them. Neither can they 
 employ in the service of humanity those 
 capacities and gifts which constitute the exclu- 
 sive prerogative of man and draw him nearer 
 to the gods. They will have no temples, no 
 statues, no theatres, no museums. They assert 
 that they have no need of them. The readiest 
 way to avoid blushing at one's own baseness is 
 to contemn nobility. Their teacher "was an 
 ignorant deceiver, and they are not unsuccess- 
 ful in their attempts to imitate him. Further- 
 
68 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 more, they are impious. They refuse to 
 recognize the gods or their interference in 
 human affairs. They acknowledge only the 
 Father of their teacher, whom they call their 
 father, and their teacher himself, who, they 
 say, revealed to them all the secrets of life. 
 Their doctrine is a wretched fraud. Weigh 
 this well : our belief is that the universe is 
 maintained by the gods, and that the gods 
 watch over and protect man. In order to live 
 well, people are bound to honor the gods, to 
 seek truth, — and think. Hence our life is 
 regulated on the one hand by the will of the 
 gods, and on the other by the collective 
 wisdom of humanity. We live, think, and 
 seek ; and are therefore advancing towards 
 truth. They, on the contrary, have no gods, 
 nor divine will, nor human wisdom to look to, 
 but must make the best of their blind faith in 
 their crucified teacher and in whatever he 
 taught them. Now, decide for yourself, which 
 is the more trustworthy guide : the will of the 
 gods and the joint, untrammelled activity of 
 the wisdom of all humanity, or — obligatory, 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 59 
 
 unreasoning faith in the sayings of one 
 man ? " 
 
 Julius was struck by these remarks of the 
 stranger, especially by his last question. Not 
 only was his resolution to become a Christian 
 completely shaken, but it now seemed quite in- 
 credible that the stress of misfortune should 
 have driven him to the verge of such folly. 
 There was, however, one other question still 
 unsettled : what was he to do now, and how was 
 he to set about extricating himself from the 
 embarrassing situation that had made him thus 
 desperate ? And, having pointed out this diffi- 
 culty, he asked the stranger for advice. 
 
 " I was coming to that very problem," the 
 stranger said. " What is to be done ? The 
 line of action you must pursue is, as far as 
 human wisdom is accessible to me, perfectly 
 clear. All your troubles have their source in 
 your passions. It was passion that whirled 
 you away and took you so far out of your road 
 that you have suffered gravely in consequence. 
 Life's lessons usually take this form. You 
 should learn them well and benefit by them. 
 
60 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 You have experienced much, and you now 
 know what is sweet and what is bitter. You 
 run no risk of unwittingly repeating the same 
 mistakes. Profit by your experience. What 
 grieves and upsets you most is your enmity 
 with your father. It had its origin in your 
 position Choose another and it will vanish, or 
 at least will no longer manifest itself in the 
 same acute form. 
 
 " All your sufferings are due to the irregu- 
 larity of your position. You abandoned your- 
 self to the pleasures of youth. This was 
 natural, and therefore right. And it continued 
 right as long as it beseemed your age. But the 
 season passed and yet you continued with the 
 strength of a man to indulge in the freaks of 
 a youth — and this was wrong. You are now 
 of an age when your will must supplement 
 nature's, and you must become a man and a 
 citizen, serving the commonwealth, working 
 for the good of all as well as for your own. 
 Your father suggests that you should marry. 
 This is wise counsel. You have passed through 
 one stage of life — youth — and have now 
 
RAVU THE LIGHT. 61 
 
 entered upon another. All your uneasiness 
 and fears are but so many symptoms of a 
 period of transition. Look the truth manfully 
 in the face ; admit that the season of youth 
 is gone by; and, flinging dauntlessly aside 
 everything that was proper to that season with- 
 out being characteristic of manhood, enter the 
 new road. Marry : give up the frivolous 
 gayeties of youth ; occupy your mind with the 
 interests of - commerce, with public affairs, with 
 sciences and arts, and not only will you be 
 reconciled with your father and your friends, 
 but you will find rest and happiness. The root 
 of your troubles was the abnormal, unnatural 
 position you occupied. You have now reached 
 manhood's estate, and it is your duty to take a 
 wife and become a man. Hence, my chief 
 counsel to you is : carry out your father's wish, 
 — marry. 
 
 " If you feel that that isolation and retire- 
 ment which you imagine exists among the 
 Christians has still a charm for you ; if you 
 are attracted to the study of philosophy rather 
 than to the activity of public life, you can give 
 
62 HAVE THE LIGHT. 
 
 loose reins to your wishes with benefit to your- 
 self only on condition that you have first 
 studied life and learned its inner meaning. 
 And this you can do only as an independent 
 citizen and father of a family. If, when you 
 have reached that point, you still feel drawn as 
 strongly as ever towards retirement and con- 
 templation, give yourself up to it without 
 hesitation ; for it will then be a genuine predi- 
 lection and not a mere outburst of discontent, 
 as it clearly is at present. Th^ follow whither 
 it leads you." 
 
 The last words, more than anything that 
 had gone before, brought conviction to the 
 mind of Julius. He warmly thanked the 
 stranger, and returned home. His mother 
 gave him a most cordial welcome. His father, 
 too, informed of his resolution to submit to his 
 will and marry the young girl he had chosen 
 for him, became reconciled with his son. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Three months later Julius's marriage with 
 the beautiful Eulalia was duly celebrated, and 
 the young couple took up their residence in a 
 house of their own. Julius, having radically 
 changed his way of life, took over that branch 
 of commerce which his father ceded to him, 
 and began fairly to settle down as a respectable 
 member of the community. 
 
 One day he drove over to a little town not 
 far distant on some business connected with 
 his firm, and there, while lounging in a mer- 
 chant's shop, he caught sight of Pamphihus 
 passing by the door accompanied by a girl who 
 was unknown to him. They were both heavily 
 laden with grapes which they offered for sale. 
 Julius, recognizing his friend, went out to him, 
 
64 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 greeted him, and asked him in to pass an hour 
 in quiet conversation. 
 
 The girl, observing Pamphilius's desire to 
 enter the shop with his friend, and noticing 
 that he hesitated to leave her alone, at once 
 assured him that she did not need his services 
 and that she would sit there by herself and 
 wait for a purchaser for the grapes. 
 
 Pamphilius thanked her and accompanied 
 Julius into the shop. Julius asked and re- 
 ceived permission of his friend, the merchant, 
 to retire with Pamphilius to an inner apart- 
 ment where they might enjoy a little quiet 
 talk. 
 
 Once there, the friends began to question 
 each other about the ups and downs they had 
 met with since they had last seen each other. 
 
 Pamphilius's life had glided smoothly on, 
 bringing no material change : he stiU lived in 
 the Christian community, was a bachelor as 
 before, and felt, he assured his friend, that 
 every year, every day, and every hour brought 
 him increase of happiness. 
 
 Julius thereupon narrated his experiences, 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 65 
 
 and described how he had been on the point of 
 becoming a Christian and was already on the 
 road to the Christian village, when he was 
 stopped by the stranger who opened his eyes 
 to the errors of the Christians, and made him 
 sensible of his duty to marry. " And I acted 
 upon his advice and am now a married man," 
 he concluded. 
 
 "And are you happy now?" asked Pam- 
 philius. " Have you found in marriage the 
 bliss the stranger promised you ? " 
 
 " Happy ? " repeated Julius. " What is the 
 meaning of the word happy ? 
 
 '' If we are to take it to connote the perfect 
 realization of one's desires, then I am not 
 happy. I am conducting my business affairs 
 with a fair degree of success, and I am also 
 beginning to be respected by my neighbors; 
 and both these circumstances afford me a 
 considerable amount of satisfaction. True, I 
 daily come in contact with many citizens who are 
 much wealthier and more widely respected than 
 I am : but I flatter myself that a time will 
 come when I shall overtake and possibly out- 
 
66 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 strip them in both thesa respects. This aspect 
 of my life, then, is very satisfactory ; with 
 respect to my marriage, to be frank with you, 
 I fear I cannot say quite as much. I will go 
 a step further, and confess that that union, 
 which was to have conferred joy and happiness 
 upon me, has disappointed me ; that the pleas- 
 ure I experienced from it in the beginning has 
 ever since been on the wane, and that now, in lieu 
 of married bliss, I am face to face with misery. 
 My wife is handsome, intelligent, good-natured, 
 accomplished. At first she made me indescrib- 
 ably happy. But at present numerous causes 
 of disagreement are ever cropping up between 
 us — you cannot understand this, not being 
 married yourself — now because she seeks my 
 caresses when I am cold and indifferent to 
 her, now because the roles are changed and 
 my temporary indifiEerence has passed over to 
 her. Love, moreover, needs the charm of 
 novelty to feed it. A woman much less attrac- 
 tive than my wife exercises at first a much 
 greater fascination over me than she does, and 
 then again grows far more insipid than even 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT 67 
 
 my wife. I have felt this more than once. 
 No ; honestly, I may say that I have not found 
 what I hoped for in marriage. The philoso- 
 phers, my friend, are right : life never gives 
 all that the soul longs for. I have verified the 
 truth of this in marriage. But the circumstance 
 that life withholds from us the happiness 
 which the human soul yearns for is by no 
 means a proof that your deceitful system 
 supplies it," he concluded, with a laugh. 
 
 " Why deceitful ? " asked Pamphilius. " In 
 what do you detect symptoms of fraud ?" 
 
 " Your deception consists in this : that in 
 order to deliver mankind from the calamities 
 that are inseparable from the affairs of life, you 
 repudiate all the affairs of life, nay, life itself. 
 In order to spare men the pain of disillusion, 
 you cause them to eschew all illusions ; you 
 repudiate — even marriage." 
 
 " We do no such thing ! " protested Pamphil- 
 ius. 
 
 " If it is not marriage that you repudiate, 
 then it is love." 
 
 " Love ! " exclaimed PamphiUus. " Why, we 
 
68 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 abjure everything except love. Love, with us, 
 is the corner-stone of the whole edifice." 
 
 " I do not understand you, then," said Julius. 
 " Judging by what I have heard from others, 
 and, I may add, by your own example — for 
 although you and I are of the same age, you 
 are still unmarried — I gather that you Chris- 
 tians have no conjugal union. You do not 
 sever the marriage ties which you have already 
 contracted, but you make no new ones. You 
 take no thought for the perpetuation of the 
 human race ; and, if the earth were peopled 
 with none but Christians, humanity would soon 
 cease to exist," exclaimed Julius, echoing an 
 assertion which he had heard many times before. 
 
 " That is scarcely a fair way of stating the 
 case, is it ? " replied Pamphilius. " It is true that 
 we do not deliberately make it our aim to per- 
 petuate the human race, nor do we take the 
 matter so very much to heart, as I have often 
 heard it remarked by some of your wise men. 
 Our minds are set at rest on the subject by our 
 firm belief that our Father, who vigilantly 
 watches over mankind, is mindful of all their 
 
SAVH THE LIGHT. 69 
 
 wants ; it is our object to live in accordance 
 with His will. If He wills it that the human 
 race should" subsist, He will likewise find the 
 means of perpetuating it ; if not, it will inevita- 
 bly come to an end. That, however, is no care 
 of ours ; our task is the more modest one of liv- 
 ing according to His will. His will is mani- 
 fested to us both in our own nature and in the 
 revelation He has vouchsafed to give us, which 
 says that a man shall cleave to his wife : and 
 they twain shall be one flesh. Marriage is not 
 only not forbidden by our laws but is directly 
 encouraged by our elders who are learned in 
 the law. The main difference between your 
 marriage and ours consists in the revelation 
 given to us from on high that every lustful 
 glance at a woman is sinful, and the practical 
 results which our belief in that revelation has 
 produced, and which may be summed up as 
 f oUows : we and our women, instead of leaving 
 no means untried to dress finely and beautify 
 ourselves for the purpose of kindling carnal 
 desires in the hearts of those who look upon us, 
 direct all our efforts to the stifling of all such 
 
70 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 impure movements, so that the sentiment of 
 love among us, as among brothers and sisters, 
 should be strong enough to outw.eigh the feeh 
 ing of lust for one woman to which you give 
 the name of love." 
 
 " All that is well and good," remarked J ulius ; 
 "but surely you cannot stifle the feeling of 
 pleasure and. love that springs up within us when 
 we look upon the beautiful. Not to wander far 
 afield for an instance, I am satisfied that that 
 pretty girl with whom you brought the grapes, 
 in spite of her attire, which works wonders in 
 the way of hiding her charms, kindles in your 
 breast the sentiment of love for woman." 
 
 " I do not think that that is so," said Pam- 
 philius, blushing. "I never thought of her 
 beauty. You are the first to suggest such a 
 thing. She is but a sister to me. But to come 
 back to what I was saying about the difference 
 between marriage with you and with us : it 
 arises, as I was remarking, from the circum- 
 stance that with you carnal lust, under the 
 name of beauty, love, service of the goddess 
 Venus, is deliberately provoked and main' 
 
HAVE TEE LIGHT. 71 
 
 tained ; whereas, with us, on the contrary, it is 
 avoided, not because we hold it to be an evil 
 (God has created no evil), — indeed we esteem 
 it a positive good, — but because it can and 
 does become an evil, a temptation, as we call it, 
 when not confined to its proper place. Now, 
 we strain every nerve to avoid this. And that 
 is the reason why I am not married yet, 
 although I know of nothing to prevent me 
 from taking a wife to-morrow." 
 
 " And what will determine your choice ? " 
 
 « The will of God." 
 
 " How do you discover it ? " 
 
 " If you never look for its manifestations 
 you will never find them. If you are contin- 
 ually on the watch for them they become 
 visible and clear, as clear as divination by sac- 
 rifices, or by the flight of birds, is to you. And 
 as you have wise men among you who interpret 
 to you the will of your gods by the light of 
 their own knowledge, and by signs which they 
 discern in the entrails of the victim or the 
 flight of birds, in like manner we, too, have our 
 wise men — elders — who make known to us 
 
72 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 the will of our Father by means of the Christ's 
 revelation, by the promptings of their heart, 
 by the thoughts of others, and, above all, by the 
 love they cherish for their fellow-man." 
 
 " All that is much too vague," objected 
 Julius. "Who is to tell you, for example, 
 when and whom you should marry ? Now, 
 when the time came for me to marry, I had 
 the choice of three girls. These possible wives 
 were selected from among all the others by 
 reason of their uncommon beauty and great 
 wealth ; and my father consented in advance 
 to my marriage with any one of the three. It 
 was from these three that I selected my Eulalia, 
 because she was the prettiest and in my eyes 
 the most fascinating. All that was quite 
 natural. But who will guide your choice ? " 
 
 " Before giving a direct reply to your ques- 
 tion," said Pamphilius, " let me first tell you 
 that, in our religion, as all men are equal in the 
 eyes of our Father, so are they equal in our 
 eyes, both in respect of their position and in 
 regard to their physical and moral qualities. It 
 follows from this that our choice (if I must 
 
HAVE TEE LIGHT. 73 
 
 employ a word which for us has no meaning) 
 is not and cannot be in any way circumscribed. 
 Any human being living on this earth can be- 
 come the husband or wife of a Christian." 
 
 " That makes it all the more difficult to fix 
 one's choice," said Julius. 
 
 " Let me tell you what one of our elders re- 
 marked to me the other day on the difference 
 between Christian and Pagan marriages," re- 
 plied Pamphilius. " The Pagan chooses that 
 girl of all others who, to his thinking, is quaU- 
 fied to yield him the highest degree and 
 greatest variety of enjoyment. The effect of 
 this condition is to make him dart his eyes 
 with lightning rapidity from one to another, 
 irresolute which to choose ; for what makes it 
 the more difficult to come to a decision is that 
 the enjoyment in question is an unknown 
 quantity veiled in the shadowy future. A 
 Christian, on the other hand, is not embar- 
 rassed by the element of personal choice ; that 
 is to say, considerations of a purely personal 
 nature occupy a secondary rather than the fore- 
 most place. His one absorbing care is that 
 
74 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 his marriage shall not run counter to the wiU 
 of God." 
 
 " But how is it possible to oppose God's will 
 by a marriage ? " 
 
 " If I were to forget the Iliad," replied Pam- 
 philius, " that you and I were wont to study and 
 read aloud together in bygone times, there would 
 be little to wonder at and nothing to censure. 
 But if you forget it, who live in the midst of 
 philosophers and poets, you cannot plead the 
 same justification. Now, what is the Iliad but 
 the story of the transgression of the will of God 
 by a marriage ? And Menelaus and Paris, 
 and Helen and Achilles and Agamemnon and 
 Chryseis are all elements of a description of the 
 terrible calamities that overtook, and do now-a- 
 days still overtake, people who oppose their will 
 to that of God in this matter of marriage." 
 
 "In what does this opposition consist?" 
 
 " In the fact that what a man loves in a 
 woman is not a feUow-creature like himself but 
 the personal enjoyment which his union with 
 her will bring him, and for the purpose of pro- 
 curing this pleasure he contracts marriage. A 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 73 
 
 Christian marriage is not possible unless a man 
 is inspired by love for his fellow-creatures ; and 
 the person whom he takes for partner must in 
 the first place be the object of this brotherly 
 affection of man for his fellow. As it is out of 
 the question to build a house unless a foundation 
 has been laid, or to paint a picture unless you 
 have first prepared the canvas or other material 
 upon which you propose to paint it, so carnal 
 love can never be lawful, reasonable or endur- 
 ing unless it is raised upon a structure of love, 
 and reverence of man for man. Only on this 
 basis is it possible to establish a wise Christian 
 .'amily life." 
 
 " StiU it is not, I confess, quite clear to my 
 mind why the marriage you term Christian 
 should exclude that species of love for woman- 
 kind which Paris felt." 
 
 " I do not suggest that Christian marriage 
 does not admit exclusive love for one woman ; 
 on the contrary, it is judicious and holy only 
 when such love is one of its elements. But 
 what I should like to bring out with a degree 
 of clearness equal to the importance of the point 
 
76 WO^K WHILl! tH 
 
 is that real exclusive love for a woman is possl* 
 ble only when the more general love for all 
 mankind is respected and maintained intact. 
 That description of exclusive love for a woman 
 which the poets sing, and proclaim as excellent 
 in itself, although not founded upon the love 
 of man for his fellows, does not deserve the 
 name of love. It is animal lust, which very 
 often loses itself in hatred. The best proof of 
 my thesis that what is usually termed love — 
 Eros — changes to beastliness when not resting 
 on the broad basis of brotherly affection for all 
 men, is the case in which violence is employed 
 against the very woman whom the ravisher pro- 
 fesses to love, even while causing her pain that 
 will retain its sting as long as Kfe endures. 
 Can a man be said to cherish affection for a 
 person whom he thus tortures ? Now in Pagan 
 marriages one frequently finds cases of masked 
 violence, when a man marries a girl who either 
 simply does not love him in return or loves 
 another, and ruthlessly inflicts pain and suffer- 
 ing upon her, simply that he may appease the 
 brutal appetite which is misnamed love." 
 
BAVH THE LIGHT, 77 
 
 " I grant all that," interrupted Julius ; " but 
 am I to take it that if the girl does love him, it 
 follows that there is no injustice in the matter ? 
 If so, I do not see in what respect a Christian 
 union differs from a Pagan marriage." 
 
 " I am not acquainted with the details of your 
 own marriage," replied Pamphilius ; " but it is 
 perfectly obvious to me that every marriage, 
 wherever and whenever contracted, at the root 
 of which lies mere personal enjoyment, cannot 
 but prove an abundant source of discord, just 
 as the process of feeding cannot take place 
 among animals, or among human beings who are 
 but little removed from the mere animal stage, 
 without breeding quarrels and fights : each one 
 is eager to seize upon a titbit, and as there are 
 not enough of these delicious morsels for them 
 all, the result is a scramble and a fight. If the 
 quarrel does not actually break out into active 
 hostilities, it is none the less real for being 
 latent. The weak individual longs for the lus- 
 cious morsel, conscious though he is that his 
 more powerful neighbor will never cede it to 
 him, and although he discerns the impossibility 
 
78 WOBX WEILU Yin 
 
 of snatching it from his rival by force, still he 
 eyes him with secret, envious hatred, and is ever 
 ready to profit by any favorable opportunity 
 that offers to deprive him of it. It is just the 
 same with Pagan marriages — only that the 
 results are far worse in degree, owing to the 
 circumstance that the coveted object is a human 
 being ; and so discord and hatred are engendered 
 between the spouses themselves." 
 
 " And how do you propose to compel the in- 
 tending spouses to love each other and no one 
 else besides ? In every case the young girl or 
 the young man will be found to love some one 
 else ; in which case, according to you, marriage 
 is impossible. From this I clearly perceive 
 that the people who maintain that you Chris- 
 tians do not marry at all are quite right. This 
 is also the reason why you are single, and wiU 
 probably ever remain so. For how is it con- 
 ceivable that a man who marries a girl should 
 have never previously inflamed the heart of 
 any other woman, or that a girl should have 
 reached the age of maturity without having 
 ever awakened the feeling of love in the breast 
 
SAVH THE LIGHT. 79 
 
 of any man? What do you suggest that 
 Helen should have done ? " 
 
 " Our elder Cyril, speaking once of this 
 matter, remarked that people in the Pagan 
 world, without spending even a passing thought 
 upon their duty of loving their fellow-men, 
 without having ever done anything to educate 
 such a feeling, are solicitous about one thing 
 only : how to excite in their own breasts a 
 passionate love for woman ; and they leave 
 nothing undone to foster this passion. It is 
 for this reason that in their world every Helen, 
 or Helen-like woman, arouses the love of many 
 men. The rivals fight with each other and 
 strain every nerve to excel each other, just like 
 brutes eager to win the female. And to a 
 greater or lesser extent their marriage is a 
 struggle — a form of violence. In our com- 
 munity we not only never think of personal en- 
 joyment of beauty, but we sedulously avoid 
 all those seductive contrivances and artifices 
 likely to act as temptations thereto, which the 
 Pagan world has raised almost to the dignity 
 of apotheosis. We fix our thoughts upon the 
 
80 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 obligation we are under to reverence and love 
 our neighbor — comprising in this term all 
 men, whether they happen to be of unsurpass- 
 ing beauty or of repulsive ugliness. We do our 
 best to educate that sentiment, and this is why 
 with us love for our fellow-men gets the upper 
 hand over the seductions of beauty, conquers 
 them, and removes all pretexts for quarrels and 
 feuds that have their source in the relations of 
 the sexes. 
 
 " A Christian contracts marriage only when 
 his union with the woman, between whom and 
 himself there is a bond of mutual affection, 
 causes bitterness to no one. Cyril goes even 
 so far as to say that a Christian will not even 
 feel an attachment for a woman, unless he 
 knows that his marriage with her will not cause 
 a feeling of pain to any one." 
 
 " But is such a thing conceivable ? " ob- 
 jected Julius. " Is a man, then, the master of 
 his likes and dislikes ? " 
 
 " Not if he have already given them loose 
 rein ; but he can avoid arousing them and 
 arrest their development. Take, as a case in 
 
SArU THE LIGHT. 81 
 
 point, the relations of fathers to their daugh- 
 ters, mothers to their sons, brothers to their 
 sisters. A mother, daughter, or sister, how 
 beautiful soever she may be, is never conceived 
 of as an object of personal enjoyment by her 
 son, her father, or her brother, and so the 
 coarse, anim'al feelings are not awakened. They 
 would be aroused, in such a case, if the man 
 discovered that his supposed daughter, mother, 
 or sister was no relation whatever ; but even 
 then the sentiment in question would be feeble, 
 and easily amenable to reason : it would cost the 
 man but little efPort to curb or wholly repress it. 
 The reason why the coarse, carnal feeling would 
 be weak is because there would lie at its root 
 some sentiment of filial, paternal, or brotherly 
 love. Why do you persist in doubting that it 
 is possible, and even easy, to evoke and educate 
 in man exactly such a sentiment towards all 
 women as is actually entertained towards 
 mothers, daughters, and sisters ; and to cause 
 the feeling of conjugal love to flourish on this 
 basis ? As a young man will not allow himself 
 to cherish anything like sexual afEectiou for the 
 
82 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 young girl whom he looked upon as his sister, 
 until he is perfectly satisfied that she is not his 
 sister, so a Christian refuses to entertain a sim- 
 ilar feeling for any woman whatever, until he 
 knows that such love for her on his part wiU 
 cause no one pain or displeasure." 
 
 " But how if two men fall in love with the 
 same girl ? " 
 
 " One of them will sacrifice his love for the 
 happiness of the other." 
 
 " But suppose she herself loves one of them ? " 
 
 " Then he whom she loves less will sacrifice 
 his love for her happiness." 
 
 " Well, but if she loves the two, and both 
 insist on sacrificing their sentiments, she will 
 not marry either, I take it ? " 
 
 " In a case of that kind the elders would 
 weigh the matter well, and advise the parties 
 to take a course that would result in the great- 
 est amount of happiness for all concerned, 
 combined with the greatest amount of love." 
 
 " But that is not the course usually taken, 
 and the reason is that it is contrary to human 
 nature." 
 
BAVE THE LIGHT 83 
 
 ** Human nature ? Which human nature ? 
 Besides being an animal, a man is, I presume, 
 likewise a man, and if the relations to woman 
 which our Christian religion advocates are not 
 in harmony with man's animal nature, they are 
 in perfect accordance with his rational nature. 
 And when he makes his reason the handmaid 
 of his animal nature, he falls lower in the scale 
 of God's creatures than the very brutes — he 
 descends to violence, to incest, to which no 
 animal sinks. But when he employs his 
 rational nature to curb his animal instincts, 
 when the latter are forced into the service of 
 the former, then, and only then, does he obtain 
 that happiness which alone is capable of satis- 
 fying his yearnings." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 " But now let me hear what you have to tell 
 me about yourself. I noticed you in the street 
 with a beautiful girl with whom, if I may 
 judge by appearances, you live together in 
 that town of yours. Now, tell me, can it be 
 possible that you have no desire to become 
 her husband ? " 
 
 " I have never given the subject any serious 
 consideration," replied Pamphilius. " She is 
 the daughter of a Christian widow to whom I 
 render what services I can, just as others do, 
 besides myself. I serve the mother as I do 
 the daughter, and I love both equally well. 
 You wish to know whether the love I feel for 
 her is of a nature to justify my marrying her ? 
 The question is a painful one for me, but I will 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 85 
 
 give you a straightforward answer. The idea 
 has, I confess, occurred to me ; but there is a 
 youth of my acquaintance who also loves her, 
 and that is why I have never yet seriously enter- 
 tained it. He, too, is a Christian, and he loves 
 us both dearly ; and I could not for a moment 
 think of doing anything that might give him 
 pain. So I live on without giving these ideas 
 any place in my thoughts. All my desires are 
 centred in one aim — to fulf ul the law of 
 love — love for our fellow-men. That is the 
 one thing necessary. As for wedlock, I shall 
 marry when I am convinced that it is toy duty 
 to do so." 
 
 " Those are your ideas : but the mother's 
 standpoint may be different. It cannot surely 
 be immaterial to her whether she gets a son-in- 
 law who is kindly and industrious, or one who 
 is the reverse. She will be naturally desirous 
 of having you for such a near relation." 
 
 " By no means. It is perfectly indifferent 
 to her ; because she is well aware that all our 
 brethren are to the full as willing as I am to 
 serve her, just as we are to be useful to every 
 
86 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 other brother and sister; and that I shall 
 continue to do what I can for her in exactly 
 the same way, whether I do or do not become 
 her son-in-law. If the outcome of it all 
 should be my marriage with her daughter, I 
 shall welcome such a consummation with joy — 
 just as I should her marriage with somebody 
 else." 
 
 " No, no ; what you are saying now is 
 utterly impossible. And herein lies the most 
 terrible thing I have observed in you Chris- 
 tians — that you so completely deceive your- 
 selves ! And in this way you deceive others 
 as well. That stranger whom I told you 
 about a few minutes ago was right in what he 
 asserted about you. While listening to your 
 glowing descriptions I involuntarily succumb 
 to the spell of the charming life which you 
 depict ; but, when I think it carefully over, I 
 see that it is all deception — and a deception 
 which leads to savagery, to brutality, to a life 
 approaching that of the beasts." 
 
 " In what do you discern this savagery ? " 
 " In the circumstance that, as you work to 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 87 
 
 earn a livelihood, you have no leisure or oppor- 
 tunity to devote yourselves to science and art. 
 Here are you, for instance, attired in a ragged 
 garment, with rough, horny hands and feet, 
 while your mate, who might well be a goddess 
 of beauty, is as like a slave as a freewoman 
 could be. You Christians have no hymns of 
 Apollo, no temples, no poetry, no games — in 
 a word, nothing of all those gifts of the gods 
 to man which adorn life and make it beautiful. 
 To grind, grind, and grind, like slaves or oxen, 
 merely in order to support yourself on the 
 coarsest of food — what else is that but volun- 
 tary and impious renunciation of the human 
 will and nature ? " 
 
 " There it is again," exclaimed Pamphilius ; 
 " that tiresome human nature ! In what does 
 this nature consist, pray ? Is it in torturing 
 slaves with work beyond their strength, in the 
 butchering of one's brothers or reducing them 
 to slavery, or is it in transforming woman from 
 what she was and is into an object of amuse- 
 ment ? . . And yet all this alone beseems 
 human nature. Is that the essence of human 
 
88 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 nature, or does it not rather consist in living 
 in love and fellowship with all men, and feeling 
 oneself a member of one universal brother- 
 hood ? 
 
 " You, too, are grievously mistaken if you 
 imagine that we refuse to recognize science 
 and arts. We highly appreciate all the gifts 
 and talents with which human nature is 
 endowed. 
 
 " We look upon all man's inborn capacities 
 as means given to assist him to attain one sole 
 end, to the realization of which our whole hfe 
 is devoted, and that is the fulfilment of the 
 will of God. In science and arts we discern, 
 not a vulgar pastime, fit only to give transient 
 pleasure to idle people, but serious avocations, 
 of which we have a right to demand what we 
 require of all human callings, namely, that, in 
 pursuing them, the same active love of God 
 and of one's fellow-man be made manifest 
 which permeates all the acts of a Christian. 
 We do not recognize as true science anything 
 so called which fails to help us to live better ; 
 neither do we value art but that which purifies 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 89 
 
 our thoughts and projects, raises up the soul, 
 and increases the forces necessary to a life of 
 labor and of love. We lose no opportunity to 
 develop, as far as is possible, knowledge of 
 this kind in ourselves and in our children ; and 
 the charms of such art we feel and delight in 
 during our leisure moments. We read and 
 study the writings bequeathed to us by the 
 wisdom of men who lived before us ; we chant 
 songs, we paint pictures, and our songs and 
 our pictures comfort us, cheer us up in mo- 
 ments of sadness. Therefore it is that we 
 cannot bring ourselves to approve the way in 
 which you Pagans apply the arts and sciences. 
 Your scholars employ their natural capacities 
 and acquired knowledge to invent new ways of 
 working evil to others. They are always busy 
 making the methods of war more efEective, 
 more deadly ; that is to say, they are engaged 
 in making murder easier. They are ever con- 
 cocting new schemes for earning money ; that 
 is, for enriching some persons at the expense 
 of others. Your art is utilized for the build- 
 ing and ornamentation of temples in honor of 
 
90 WOBK WEILE YE 
 
 gods, in whom the most enlightened among 
 you have long since ceased to believe, but faith 
 in whom you try to keep alive in others, in the 
 hope that by means of this fraud it will be all 
 the more easy for you to keep them well in 
 hand. Your statues are raised to the strongest 
 and most cruel of your tyrants, whom no one 
 esteems, but all fear. In the plays given in 
 your theatres criminal love is lauded and 
 applauded. Music, among you, is degraded to 
 the role of a means of tickling the senses of 
 rich gluttons after they have gorged themselves 
 to satiety on the meats and drinks of their 
 luxurious banquets. The highest use to which 
 painting is put is to depict, in houses of ill-fame, 
 scenes at which no man can glance without 
 blushing, whose senses are not paralyzed by 
 the fumes of wine, or blunted by beastly 
 passion. 
 
 " No ; it is not for such purposes that man 
 is endowed with those higher attributes which 
 distinguish him from the beasts of the field. 
 They were not given to be turned into a play- 
 thing for the delectation of our bodies. By 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 91 
 
 consecrating our whole life to the fulfilment of 
 God's will we are employing, and employing to 
 the highest purpose, all those nobler gifts and 
 faculties which we have received for God." 
 
 " Yes," Julius answered ; " all that would be 
 sublime, if only life were possible under such 
 conditions. But one cannot live so. You are 
 only deluding yourselves. You refuse to ac- 
 knowledge our protection ; but if it were not 
 for the Roman legions, could you live peace- 
 ably ? You enjoy the protection which you 
 refuse to acknowledge. Even certain members 
 of your own community — you yourself told 
 me — defended themselves. You do not rec- 
 ognize property, and yet you enjoy it ; your 
 brethren own property and give it to you ; you 
 yourself take care not to give away for nothing 
 the grapes you carry ; you sell them, and you 
 will also in turn make purchases. Now, aU 
 this is a delusion. If you carried out what 
 you say to the letter, then I should understand 
 your position ; but as it is, you are deceiving 
 others and yourselves to boot." 
 
 Julius waxed hot during the conversation. 
 
92 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 and gave expression to every thouglit that 
 flitted through his mind. Pamphilius remained 
 sUent, awaiting the end. When Julius ceased 
 speaking, he said 
 
 " You are in error when you say that we 
 enjoy without recognizing the protection you 
 afford us. We have no need of Roman legions, 
 because we attach no importance whatever to 
 those things which require to be protected by 
 violence. Our happiness is centred in that 
 which needs : ..r defence, which no man can 
 take away from us. If material objects which 
 you regard as personal property pass through 
 our hands, it should be borne in mind that we 
 do not look upon them or treat them as our 
 own ; we hand them over to those for whose 
 support they are necessary. It is true that 
 we sell grapes, but not for profit ; only in order 
 to obtain the necessaries of life for those who 
 are in need of them. If any one wanted to 
 take those grapes from us, we should give them 
 up without the slightest resistance. Eor the 
 same reason we have nothing to fear from an 
 invasion of barbarians. If they wanted to 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 93 
 
 deprive us of the products of our labor, we 
 should yield them up at once ; if they insisted 
 on our working for them, this also we should 
 do with joy ; and not only would the barbarians 
 have no cause to kill us, but it would be detri- 
 mental to what they consider their own inter- 
 ests to do so. They would soon get to under- 
 stand us, would even grow to love us, and we 
 should have less to suffer from them than we 
 now have to endure from the enlightened 
 people in whose midst we live and by whom we 
 are persecuted. 
 
 " It has been frequently urged by you and 
 yours that it is only in consequence of the 
 rights of property being respected that one is 
 enabled to obtain aU those articles of food and 
 clothing with which people are nourished and 
 kept alive. But weigh the matter well, and 
 then decide for yourself — by whom are all 
 these necessaries of life really produced ? By 
 whose labor are those riches stored up and 
 accumulated of which you are so proud ? 
 Is it by those who, sitting comfortably with 
 folded arms, command their slaves and mer- 
 
94 WOEK WHILE YE 
 
 cenarles to go hither and thither, to do this 
 and that, those who alone possess property to 
 enjoy ; or is it not rather by those poor neces- 
 sitous workmen who, to earn a crust o£ bread, 
 carry out their lord's commands while they 
 themselves are deprived of all property, and 
 scarcely receive for their share enough to keep 
 them alive for a single day ? And what 
 grounds have you for supposing that these 
 workmen, who are so lavish of their strength 
 and energy now, when it is a question of exe- 
 cuting orders which they frequently do not 
 even understand, will give up every kind of 
 exertion the moment it is made possible for 
 them to undertake intelligible and moderate 
 work, the results of which will benefit them- 
 selves and those whom they love and pity ? 
 
 " The accusations you launch against us are 
 mainly these : that we do not completely attain 
 the end which we have in view, and that we 
 actually deceive others when we say that we 
 do not recognize violence and property, seeing 
 that we enjoy the results of both. Now, if we 
 are deceivers, it is useless to waste words upon 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 95 
 
 us : we are fit objects, not for anger, nor for 
 accusation, but for scorn. And the scorn we 
 joyfully accept, because it is one of our rules 
 to contemn our own nothingness. But if we 
 sincerely and earnestly strive to reach the end 
 towards which we profess to be directing all 
 our efforts, then your accusations appear 
 unjust. If we aspire to strive, as my brethren 
 and myself do, to live, in accordance with the 
 law laid down by our Master, without violence 
 or property, which is none of its fruits, our 
 object in doing so obviously cannot be the 
 attainment of material ends, the acquisition of 
 riches, power, honors — for we gain none of 
 these things thereby — but something wholly 
 different. We are quite as keen as you Pagans 
 are in the search of happiness ; the only differ- 
 ence between us consists in the opposite views 
 we take of what constitutes it. You place it 
 in riches and honors, we in something very 
 different. Our faith tells us that bliss is to be 
 found, not in violence, but in submission ; not 
 in riches, but in giving everything away. And 
 even as the flowers struggle upwards towards 
 
96 WOSK WBtLE YE 
 
 the light, so do we move onwards towards what 
 we see to be our happiness. We do not carry 
 out everything that we should like to do for 
 the attainment of our happiness ; that is to say, 
 we have not quite succeeded in casting ofE 
 every habit of violence and property. This is 
 true. But could it well be otherwise ? Take 
 yourself, for instance : you strain every nerve 
 to obtain the prettiest wife, to acquire the 
 largest fortune — but do you, does any one, 
 succeed in this ? If an archer does not hit the 
 target, will he, because he has missed it many 
 times in succession, cease altogether to aim at 
 it ? We are in exactly the same position. 
 Our happiness lies — according to Christ's 
 teaching — in love ; but love excludes violence, 
 and property — which flows from violence. We 
 are all of us bent on seeking our happiness^ 
 but we do not fully succeed ; moreover, we do 
 not all set about it in precisely the same way^ 
 nor do we all attain it to the same extent." 
 
 " Yes ; but why do you refuse to listen to the 
 accumulated wisdom of mankind, why do you 
 turn away from it and give ear only to your own 
 
HAVJS THE LIGHT. 97 
 
 crucified master ? Your thraldom, your servile 
 submission to him, is precisely what most of all 
 repels us in you." 
 
 " You are again mistaken, as are all those 
 who imagine that, while professing the teach- 
 ings which we do, we believe in them only 
 because the man in whom we trust commanded 
 us to do so. On the contrary, all those who 
 with their whole soul seek for knowledge of 
 the truth, for communion with the Father, all 
 who yearn for true happiness, involuntarily, and 
 without conscious effort, find themselves travel- 
 ling along the same road that Christ traversed, 
 and, instinctively taking their stand behind Him, 
 are soon aware that He is leading the way. All 
 who love God will converge towards and finally 
 meet on this road — yourself among the num- 
 ber. He is the Son of God, the mediator 
 between God and man ; it is not that we have 
 been told this by some one and therefore blindly 
 believe it, but we hold it to be true because 
 all those who seek God find His Son before 
 them, and only through the Son do they under- 
 stand, see, and know God." 
 
98 IVOBK WHILE YE 
 
 Julius made no reply, and they both sat for 
 a considerable time in unbroken silence. 
 
 " Are you happy ? " he asked at length. 
 
 " I desire nothing better than what I have 
 and am. Nor is this all. I am continually 
 experiencing a feeling of perplexity, a dim con- 
 sciousness of injustice somewhere. Why is it 
 that I am so unspeakably happy ? " exclaimed 
 Pamphihus, with a smile. 
 
 " Yes," sighed Julius ; " it may be that I, too, 
 should have been happy, happier than I am, 
 had I not met the stranger I told you of, and 
 had I gone over to you." 
 
 " If you think so, what is keeping you back ? " 
 
 " How about my wife ? " 
 
 " You say that she has a leaning towards 
 Christianity ; if so, she will join us along with 
 you." 
 
 " True : but we have only just begun a 
 different kind of life ; would it be wise to break 
 it up thus suddenly ? We have begun it now, 
 and we had better live it out to the end," said 
 Julius, vividly picturing to himself the dis- 
 appointment of his father, his mother, his 
 
HAVU THE LIGHT. 99 
 
 friends, if he were to become a Christian, 
 but more vividly still the continuous and pain- 
 ful effort it would cost him to effect this revo- 
 lution. 
 
 At this moment the young girl, Pamphilius's 
 friend, accompanied by a youth, came up to 
 the shop door. Pamphilius went out to them, 
 and the youth told him, in the presence of 
 Julius, that he had been sent by Cyril to 
 buy some leather. The grapes were already 
 sold and wheat purchased with the money 
 received. Pamphilius proposed that the 
 youth should return home with Magdalen, 
 bringing the wheat with them, and undertak- 
 ing himself to buy the leather and carry it 
 home. 
 
 " It will be better for you," he urged. 
 
 " No ; it is better for Magdalen that you 
 should go with her," the youth answered, and 
 went away. Julius accompanied his friend to 
 the stores of a merchant with whom he was 
 acquainted, where Pamphilius filled the sacks 
 with wheat, handed over a small portion to 
 Magdalen, slung his own heavy burden over 
 
100 irOJiK WHILE YE 
 
 his shoulders, said good-by to his friend, and, 
 walking side by side with the young girl, left 
 the city. 
 
 At a bend in the street, P'amphilius looked 
 back and smilingly nodded to Julius, and then, 
 smiling still more joyfully, made some remark 
 to Magdalen as they disappeared from Julius's 
 horizon. 
 
 " Yes ; it would indeed have been better for 
 me had I then gone over to the Christians," 
 exclaimed Julius to himself. And in his im- 
 agination arose two pictures, which kept alter- 
 nating with each other : now he beheld the 
 robust Pamphilius, with the tall, strong girl, 
 carrying baskets on their heads, their faces 
 radiant with kindliness and joy ; now he saw 
 his own domestic hearth, which he had quitted 
 that morning and to which he would return that 
 night, and his pampered, pretty wife, whose 
 charms had already begun to pall upon him, 
 decked out in fine apparel, adorned with wrist- 
 bands, and lolling on rich carpets and soft, 
 yielding cushions. 
 
 But Julius had little time for thinking — 
 
HAVH: THE LIGHT. 101 
 
 he was accosted first by some merchants who 
 had come to see him, then by comrades ; and 
 they entered at once upon the usual occupa- 
 tions, which wound up with dinner and drink- 
 ing, and at night with his wife. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Ten years passed away ; and during all that 
 time Julius never once came across his friend. 
 He thought less and less frequently of their 
 former meetings and discussions ; and the im- 
 pressions they had created in his mind respect- 
 ing Pamphilius himself, and the life of the 
 Christians generally, grew gradually dimmer 
 and dimmer, till at last they seemed to have 
 faded away. Julius's own life ran in the 
 common groove. His father had died, and he 
 had taken over the entire business of the firm 
 — a very complicated concern, with its old 
 customers, its salesmen in Africa, its clerks at 
 home, its debts to be collected, and debts to be 
 paid. Julius was engrossed in business in spite 
 of himself, and gave up all his time to it. Be- 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 103 
 
 sides, he had the new cares of his wife to bear. 
 Then, again, he was elected to discharge the 
 duties of a civic office ; and this new occupa- 
 tion, flattering his self-love, delighted him. 
 From that time forward, in addition to his 
 business affairs, he turned his attention to 
 public matters, and, being a man of parts, and 
 endowed with the gift of flowing, facile speech, 
 he began to make his mark among his fellow- 
 citizens, and bade fair to rise in time to the 
 highest civic honors in his native place. 
 
 Those ten years had likewise wrought con 
 siderable changes in the sphere of his family 
 life — changes which, to him, at least, were 
 highly distasteful. He was now the father of 
 three children, and one of the effects of their 
 birth was to estrange him still more from their 
 mother. In the first place, his wife had lost 
 much of her former freshness and beauty ; and, 
 in the next place, she had grown less solicitous 
 about her husband than of yore, all her tender- 
 ness and caresses being lavished upon her 
 offspring. Although the children were con- 
 fided to the care of wet nurses and dry nurses. 
 
104 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 as was the custom of the Pagans, Julius often 
 found them in their mother's apartments, or, 
 having looked for her there in vain, discovered 
 her in her children's room. For the most part, 
 Julius looked upon his children as an irksome 
 burden — a source of trouble and taxation 
 rather than pleasure. Absorbed in private and 
 municipal affairs, Julius had given up his 
 former dissolute life ; but he considered that 
 he stood in need of elegant repose after his 
 day's labors, and this he no longer found in 
 the society of his wife, especially as her inter- 
 Dourse with her female slave — a Christian — 
 CTew more and more intimate, and she allowed 
 berself to be carried away by the charm of the 
 aew doctrine to such an extent that she dis- 
 carded from her life all the outward gloss and 
 varnish of Paganism, by which Julius set such 
 store. Not finding in his wife's society what 
 he sought there, Julius cultivated the close 
 friendship of a woman of light conduct, in 
 whose company he spent those leisure moments 
 which remained to him after the day's duties 
 were discharged. If you were to ask him 
 
SAVH THE LIGHT. 105 
 
 •whether he was happy during those years of his 
 life, he would have been at a loss what to 
 answer — so numerous and absorbing were his 
 occupations. From one business matter or 
 pleasure he rushed rapidly onwards to another ; 
 but not one of them was of a nature thor- 
 oughly to satisfy his yearnings ; of not one of 
 them could he truly say that he desired it to 
 last. Every serious affair he took in hand was 
 such that the sooner he accomplished it, and 
 had done with it, the easier he felt in mind ; 
 and there was not one of his pleasures which 
 was not poisoned by something or other, not 
 one free from the loathing that comes of 
 satiety. 
 
 In this wise the stream of Julius's life rolled 
 smoothly on, till one day an untoward event 
 took place which nearly changed its whole 
 course He was taking part in the Olympian 
 games, and was guiding his chariot successfully 
 towards the goal, putting forth all his energies 
 to outstrip another chariot that was slightly 
 ahead of his, when he dashed up against it. 
 One of the wheels of his chariot snapped in 
 
106 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 two, he was thrown violently out, breaking two 
 ribs and his arm. The injuries he sustained 
 were very severe, but not mortal ; he was con- 
 veyed to his home, and was confined to his bed 
 for three months. 
 
 During these three months of intense physi- 
 cal pain, his mind became unusually active : he 
 employed his enforced leisure in meditating 
 upon his life, which he contemplated from 
 a purely objective point of view, as if it were 
 the life of a perfect stranger. 
 
 And his past life appeared to him in an un- 
 pleasant light, which was intensified by the 
 occurrence, just then, of three disagreeable 
 events, which occasioned him no inconsiderable 
 pain. The first of these was the dishonesty 
 of an old and trusted slave, who had loyally 
 served Julius's father for many years, but now 
 suddenly absconded with a heap of precious 
 stones which he had received in Africa for his 
 master's firm, thus inflicting heavy losses on 
 Julius, and throwing his affairs into disorder. 
 The second blow was the inconstancy of his 
 concubine, who unceremoniously left him and 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 107 
 
 chose another protector for herself. The 
 third and most painful stroke of all was the 
 election of his rival to the high post of direc- 
 tor, for which he himself was a candidate : the 
 public elections took place during his illness, 
 and he was rejected. All these reverses, Julius 
 was convinced, were the outcome of his illness ; 
 which, in turn, resulted from his chariot's hav- 
 ing moved just half an inch too much to the 
 left. As he lay thus helpless in bed, his 
 thoughts involuntarily turned on the trifling 
 casualties on which his happiness depended ; 
 and then dwelt on the remembrance of his pre- 
 vious misfortunes, his attempt to become a 
 Christian, and on Pamphilius, whom he had not 
 seen for ten years. These recollections were 
 refreshed by the conversations he had with 
 his wife, who, now that he was suffering and 
 in bed, used to pass the greater part of her 
 time with him, telling him everything she had 
 learned from her female slave about Christian- 
 ity. This slave had lived for a time in the very 
 community in which Pamphilius resided and 
 was personally acquainted with him- Julius, 
 
108 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 on hearing this, expressed a wish to see her, 
 and, when she drew near his couch, questioned 
 her in great detail concerning the life led by 
 the Christians, and about Pamphilius in par- 
 ticular. 
 
 Pamphilius, she told him, was one of the 
 best members of the brotherhood, and was be- 
 loved and esteemed by all ; he was married to 
 that same Magdalen with whom Julius had 
 seen him ten years before, and he was now the 
 father of several children. " Yes," concluded 
 the slave ; " those who doubt that God created 
 men for their happiness, should pay a visit to 
 that community, and look upon Pamphilius 
 and Magdalen." 
 
 Julius dismissed the slave and remained 
 alone, pondering upon the significance of what 
 he had heard. He was smitten by a feeling 
 of envy, whenever he compared Pamphilius's 
 life with his own, and he resolved to drive 
 such thoughts away. In order to distract 
 himself somewhat, he took up a Greek manu- 
 script, which his wife had left for him to 
 peruse, and read the following : 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 109 
 
 " Ther© are two roads, leading, the one to life, 
 the other to death. The path of life consists 
 in the following : In the first place, you must 
 love God who created you, and, in the second 
 place, love your neighbor as yourself ; and do 
 not unto another that which you would not 
 wish done to yourself. The teaching implied 
 in these words may be expressed thus : Bless 
 those that curse you ; pray for your enemies, 
 and fast for your persecutors ; for, if ye love 
 them who love you, what thank have ye ? Do 
 not the heathens do even so ? Love ye them 
 that hate you and ye shall have no enemies. 
 Flee the lusts of the flesh and the world. 
 Whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go 
 with him twain. If any man take away thy 
 coat, let him have thy shirt also. If any man 
 take what is thine, seek not to have it back, 
 for this thou canst not. Give unto every one 
 that asketh, and demand not back what once 
 thou hast given ; for the Father willeth that 
 his beneficent gifts be bestowed upon all. 
 Blessed is he who giveth according to the 
 commandment. 
 
110 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 " The second sermon of the doctrine : Thou 
 shalt not kill ; thou shalt not commit adultery ; 
 thou shalt not commit fornication ; thou shalt 
 not steal ; thou shalt not use enchantment ; 
 thou shalt not poison ; thou shalt not covet 
 what belongs to thy neighbor. Thou shalt 
 not swear ; thou shalt not bear false witness ; 
 thou shalt not speak ill of any one ; thou shalt 
 not remember evil. Be not double-minded ; 
 be not double-tongued. . . . Let not thy word 
 be false, nor vain, but let it be true to the 
 deed. Be not greedy of gain ; be not rapa- 
 cious, nor a hypocrite, nor malicious, nor 
 puffed up. Do not design evil play against 
 your neighbor. Do not foster hatred towards 
 other men, but admonish some, pray for others, 
 and love others more than thou lovest thine 
 own soul. 
 
 " My child, flee evil of every kind, and every- 
 thing akin to evil. Be not angry, because 
 anger leads up to murder ; nor jealous, nor 
 quarrelsome, nor hot-tempered, for the outcome 
 of all these is murder. Be not lustful, my 
 son, for lust leads up to fornication ; use not 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. HI 
 
 loose words in thy conversation, for the result 
 thereof is adultery. My son, do not practise 
 sorcery, cast no spells, pronounce no charms, 
 and flee those who do such things, for they are 
 idolatry. My son, be not mendacious, for 
 lying is the road to robbery ; be not greedy of 
 silver, nor of honors, for robbery comes of 
 these. Be not querulous, my son, for this is a 
 source of blasphemy ; nor insolent, nor evil- 
 minded, for blasphemy is the fruit of all these. 
 But be meek, for the meek shall inherit the 
 earth. Be patient, and kindly, and forgiving, 
 and lowly, and good. Exalt not thyself and 
 frequent not the proud, but converse with the 
 just and the humble. Whatsoever happeneth 
 to thee welcome as a blessing, knowing that 
 
 nothing happens against God's will My 
 
 son, foment not divisions, but make peace 
 between those who have quarrelled. Open not 
 wide thy palms to receive, nor narrow them 
 when giving. Do not shrink from giving 
 away, and having given, murmur not; for 
 thou shalt know the good Dispenser of rewards. 
 Turn not away thy face from the needy, but 
 
112 WOEK WHILE YE 
 
 stand by thy brother in all things ; call noth" 
 ing thine own, for if ye are heirs and co- 
 partners in the incorruptible, how much more 
 in what is perishable. Teach thy children 
 from their tender years to fear God. Com- 
 mand not thy servants or thy slaves in anger, 
 that they should not cease to fear God who 
 rules over you both, for He cometh not to call 
 people according to their looks, but He calls 
 those whom the Spirit has prepared. 
 
 " And the way of death is this : First of all, 
 it is evil and full of curses ; and there is 
 murder upon it, and adultery, lust and fornica- 
 tion, robbery and idolatry, sorcery, poisoning, 
 rapacity, false witness, hypocrisy, double deal- 
 ing, cunning, pride, malice, haughtiness, greed, 
 foul language, envy, insolence, arrogance, self- 
 love ; here are to be found the persecutors of 
 the just, the haters of truth and lovers of lies, 
 they who deny that there wiU be a reward for 
 the just, they who hold aloof from what is 
 right and from the just judgment, those who 
 are wakeful not for righteous but for evil 
 purposes, who are strangers to meekness and to 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 113 
 
 patience ; here are they who delight in vanity 
 and yearn for rewards, who feel no pity for the 
 poor, who work not for the overworked, who 
 know not their Creator, the murderers of 
 children, who shatter God's image to pieces, 
 who turn away from the needy, trample on the 
 oppressed, defenders of the rich, unjust judges 
 of the poor, sinners in all things. Be on your 
 guard, my children, with all such persons." 
 
 Long before he had read the manuscript 
 through, he felt himself in the position in 
 which many persons find themselves when they 
 read a book — that is to say, other people's 
 thoughts — with a sincere desire of seeking for 
 truth : their souls enter into communion with 
 those who suggested the thoughts. He kept 
 on reading, divining beforehand what was to 
 follow, and not only assenting to the ideas put 
 forward, but himself, as it were, giving them 
 expression. 
 
 There then occurred to him something so 
 usual and seemingly so commonplace that it 
 generally escapes our notice, and is yet one 
 of the most mysterious, most momentous phe» 
 
114 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 nomena of our lives : it consists in the circum- 
 stance that a so-called living man becomes 
 truly alive when he enters into communion, 
 unites himself, with the so-called dead, living 
 one life with them. Julius's soul merged itself 
 in those of the writers of these thoughts, and 
 after this intimate communion he contemplated 
 himself, surveyed his own life. And he him- 
 self and his whole life seemed to him a terrible 
 mistake. He had not lived ; but he had, by 
 all his cares and anxieties about life, and all the 
 temptations he had succumbed to, destroyed the 
 very possibility of true life. 
 
 " I do not wish to trample upon and quench 
 my life," he exclaimed to himself ; " I wish to 
 live, to take the road that leads to life." 
 
 All that Pamphilius had told him in their 
 former conversations rose up before him now 
 with the vividness and force of ten years 
 before ; and it all seemed so clear and obvious, 
 that he was astonished that he could have 
 given heed to the words of the stranger, and 
 foregone his intention of becoming a Christian. 
 One piece of advice which the stranger had 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. llo 
 
 given him also recurred to him : " When you 
 have tasted life, then, if you will, go over to 
 the Christians" 
 
 " I have tasted life," he said to himself ; 
 " and have found it void of attraction, void of 
 substance." He likewise called to mind Pam- 
 philius's promise that whenever he came to the 
 Christians he would be sure of a cordial recep- 
 tion. " Enough," he exclaimed ; " I have 
 erred and sufEered long enough ; I will now 
 leave everything, and become a Christian, and 
 live according to the rules laid down here." 
 He informed his wife, who was delighted to 
 hear of his excellent intention. 
 
 She was, indeed, ready to follow him in all 
 this. The only question now was how to set 
 about executing his plan. What was to be 
 done with the children ? Should they, too, be 
 taken and baptized, or left behind with their 
 Pagan grandmother ? Would it be advisable, 
 would it be humane, to make them Christians, 
 and thus expose them — after years of com- 
 fort and luxury — to all the hardships and 
 privations in which the members of this sect 
 
116 J-IAVJ£ THE LIGHT 
 
 delighted? The female slave offered to go 
 with them, and watch over them as a Christian. 
 But the mother's heart would not allow her to 
 consent to this. She insisted on leaving them 
 with their grandmother. 
 
 Julius's approval of this arrangement re- 
 moved the only serious obstacle in the way; 
 and this satisfactorily disposed of, the remain- 
 ing preparations were at once begun, by Julius 
 and his wife, for taking the most momentous 
 step in their Hves. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 At last all the preparations were concluded 
 and everything finally settled, the only remain- 
 ing difficulty being Julius's health — his wounds 
 had not yet healed — which compelled him to 
 put off for a few days, or it might be weeks, the 
 last formal act that would sever the ties that 
 bound him to the religion, traditions, and ways 
 of thinking of his fathers, and introduce him to 
 the new life he had chosen. One night he fell 
 asleep in the same resolute mood as usual, and 
 on awaking next morning was informed that a 
 clever physician, who chanced to be passing 
 through the town, had expressed a desire to see 
 him and undertake to restore him speedily to 
 health and strength. JuHus was delighted, 
 said he would see the physician at once, and a 
 
118 WOBK Vi^HILE YE 
 
 few moments later was exchanging salutations 
 with the identical stranger whom he had met 
 and discoursed with many years before on his 
 way to the Christians. 
 
 Having carefully examined his wounds, the 
 doctor prescribed a decoction of certain simples 
 which, he promised, would fortify his patient, 
 and hasten his recovery. 
 
 " Shall I ever be able to work with my 
 hand ? " Julius inquired. 
 
 " Oh, certainly. You will be able to drive 
 a chariot as deftly as ever you did, and to write, 
 too, as much as you desire." 
 
 " Yes, but I mean hard work ; digging, fox- 
 instance ? " 
 
 " Well, I confess I had not that kind of work 
 in mind," said the physician ; " because a man 
 in your position never need take to anything of 
 that kind." 
 
 " On the contrary, that is precisely the kind 
 of labor I shall be engaged in," replied Julius. 
 And he thereupon told the stranger how he had 
 scrupulously acted upon his advice and tasted 
 life, had found all its promises deceitful, and 
 
HAVE TEE LIGHT. 119 
 
 now, full of disappointment and dissatisfaction, 
 was firmly resolved to carry out the intention 
 he had conceived several years before, and join 
 the Christian community. 
 
 " Well, they must have spun a very pretty 
 web of charming falsehood for you, have enticed 
 you into it, and hold you, now, nicely fastened 
 up, if you, a man occupying such a high social 
 position, with onerous and honorable duties and 
 responsibilities, — especially in respect to your 
 children, — are unable to penetrate the mask and 
 discern their errors." 
 
 "Will you kindly read this?" said Julius, 
 significantly, in reply, handing him the Greek 
 manuscript which he had himself pondered over 
 some day-s before with such wonderful results. 
 
 The physician took the scroll ; glanced at it. 
 
 " I know this fraud," he exclaimed ; " the 
 only thing that surprises me is that a man of 
 your intellect should fall into such a snare." 
 
 " I confess I do not understand you. What 
 snare ! 
 
 " The pith and essence of the whole thing 
 lies in one's conception of human life ; and here 
 
120 WOBK WHILH YE 
 
 are these sophists and rebels against men and 
 gods declaring that one way of life leads to 
 happiness, and defining it as a kind of life 
 organized in such a way that all men are to be 
 happy ; that there are to be no wars, nor execu- 
 tions, nor poverty, nor immorality, nor quarrels, 
 nor malice. And then they go on to affirm 
 that all these conditions will be realized as soon 
 as people carry out Christ's commandments not 
 to quarrel, not to commit fornication, not to 
 swear, not to do violence, not to q^^ on nation 
 to rise up against nation. But the fact is that 
 they are deceiving people by taking the end for 
 the means. The real aim and object is to keep 
 from quarrelling, from swearing, from dissolute- 
 ness, etc. ; and the only way of attaining it is by 
 employing the means afEorded by social life. 
 Their way of presenting the facts is about as 
 natural and logical as would be that of a teacher 
 of archery who should say to his pupil : ' You 
 will easily hit the very centre of the target, if 
 you only let your arrow fly along in a perfectly 
 straight line from the bow to the point to be 
 hit.' The question is how to make the arrow 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 121 
 
 fly along this perfectly straight Kne — that is 
 the problem, and to re-state it is not to solve. 
 In archery the question is solved by fulfilling 
 many conditions, such as having your bowstring 
 tight, your bow elastic, your arrow straight, etc. 
 It is even so with life. The best kind of life — 
 which will exclude or greatly lessen quarrels, 
 dissoluteness, murders — is also arrived at by 
 having your bowstring tight — viz., wise rulers ; 
 your bow elastic — viz., power invested in the 
 authorities ; and your arrow straight — viz., the 
 laws just and impartial. They, under pretext of 
 organizing the best way of living, demolish all 
 that has heretofore bettered, and is still calcu- 
 lated to better, human life. They acknowledge 
 no rulers, nor authority, nor laws." 
 
 " But they maintain that without rulers, 
 authority and laws, human existence will be in 
 all respects better, if only people will fulfil 
 the law of Christ." 
 
 " Yes ; but what guarantee have we that 
 people will fulfil his law ? Absolutely none. 
 They say : ' You have tried life with authori- 
 ties and laws, and it has never been anything 
 
122 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 but a failure. Try it now without authorities 
 and laws, and you will soon see that it will 
 become perfect. You have no right to deny 
 this, not having put it to the test of experi- 
 ence.' But here the sophistry of these im- 
 pious men is manifest. Speaking in this tone, 
 are they a whit more logical than the agricul- 
 turist who should say : ' You sow the seed in 
 the ground and then cover it up with earth, 
 and yet the harvest crop falls far below what 
 you would wish it to be. But my advice to 
 you is, sow in the sea, and the results will be 
 far more satisfactory. And do not attempt to 
 meet this thesis with a bare denial — you have 
 no right to do so, never having put it to the 
 test of experience.' " 
 
 " Yes ; there is much truth in what you 
 say," answered Julius, beginning to falter in 
 his resolution. 
 
 " Nor is this all," continued the physician. 
 " Let us suppose that what is absurd — nay, 
 impossible — has come to pass, that the funda- 
 mental beliefs and practices of Christianity can, 
 in some mysterious manner, be communicated 
 
HAVU THE LIGHT. 123 
 
 to mankind, by means, say, of medicinal drops, 
 and that suddenly all men take to fulfilling 
 Christ's teachings — loving God and their 
 neighbor, and obeying the commandments. 
 Even then, I submit, the way of life laid down 
 in their books will not stand fair criticism. 
 There will be no life ; life will cease to exist. 
 Their teacher was an unmarried tramp ; his 
 followers will be — according to our supposi- 
 tion — what their master was ; and so will the 
 whole world. Those who are now alive wUl 
 live on, but their children will not, or certainly 
 not more than one in ten of the children who 
 would otherwise grow up to manhood. Ac- 
 cording to their own doctrine, the children 
 should and would be all equal, parents not 
 preferring their own children to those of 
 perfect strangers. Now, how, I ask, will these 
 children be attended to, cared for, brought up 
 and shielded from all the dangers with which 
 life bristles, when we see now that all the 
 passionate love which nature has planted in 
 the mother's breast for her own ofEspring is 
 scarcely enough to preserve children from ruin 
 
124 WOEX WHILE YE 
 
 and death ? If children fall like grass before 
 the scythe now that the conditions are most 
 favorable to them, what will it be when the 
 only feeling left to mothers will be equal pity 
 for all children ? Whose child will a woman 
 bring up and educate ? Who will sit up 
 wakeful night after night with the sick, foul- 
 smelling child, if not the mother who gave it 
 life ? Nature provided the child with a shield 
 — motherly love ; they tear it away, and put 
 nothing in its place. Who is to teach the 
 child, to train it, to penetrate to its very soul, 
 and from that centre shape and mould it, if 
 not its own father ? Who will ward off dangers 
 and suffering from it ? All this is taken away 
 by Christianity : nay, life itself — I mean the 
 perpetuation of the human race — is taken 
 away." 
 
 " There, too, you are right," interrupted 
 Julius, who was carried away by the physician's 
 clear, business-like, eloquent way of putting 
 things. 
 
 " No, my friend, turn away from all these 
 wild ravings, and live in accordance with the 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 125 
 
 dictatfes of reason ; especially at the present 
 time, when such noble, momentous, and urgent 
 duties still weigh upon you. To fulfil them 
 is a point of honor. You have lived to enter 
 upon this your second period of doubt, and 
 now, if you will only march onwards, all doubt 
 will vanish. Your first and most urgent obli- 
 gation is to undertake the education of your 
 children, whom you have hitherto sadly neg- 
 lected. Your duty towards them consists in 
 making them worthy servants of the common- 
 wealth. The commonwealth has conferred 
 upon you everything you possess, and now it 
 is your duty, in return, to give the common- 
 wealth worthy servants in the persons of your 
 children. Another obligation you are under 
 is to serve society. Failure has embittered 
 and disappointed you ; this, however, is but a 
 passing accident. Nothing worth having is 
 ever acquired except at the cost of efforts and 
 struggles ; and it is only the hard-won victory 
 that brings the joy of triumph. Leave it to 
 your wife to amuse herself with the idle gossip 
 of Christian writers ; it is your duty to be a 
 
126 HAVE THE LIGHT. 
 
 man, and to make men of your children^ 
 Begin this work with the consciousness that 
 you are performing your duty, and all your 
 doubts will vanish into air, for they are but the 
 symptoms and results of your morbid state. 
 Discharge your obligations to the common- 
 wealth by faithfully serving it, and by training 
 up your children to serve it ; make them inde- 
 pendent, self-sacrificing, fit and worthy to take 
 your place, and having done so, test, if you 
 will, the life that so attracts you; but until 
 then you have no right to abandon your 
 present work, and if you did forsake it you 
 would find pothing but disappointment and 
 suffering.'' 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Whether it was the effect of the medicine, 
 or of the conversation and advice, it is impos- 
 sible to say, but Julius was soon restored to 
 his normal state of health again, and all his 
 former views of Christianity seemed to him but 
 as the ravings of a madman. 
 
 The physician after a short sojourn left the 
 city, and a few days after his departure Julius 
 was on his feet again, busy following his 
 advice, and inaugurating the new life he had 
 outlined for him. He engaged a teacher foi 
 his children, but he reserved to himself the 
 chief control of their education ; all the rest of 
 his time he employed in the conduct of public 
 affairs, in which his success was marked and 
 
128 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 rapid, and in a very short space of time he had 
 acquired immense influence in the city. 
 
 In this way a twelvemonth passed away, 
 during which he was never once troubled by 
 thoughts about the Christians. At the end of 
 the year he was appointed to judge the Chris- 
 tians in their town, which was not very far off. 
 
 A representative of the Roman emperor had 
 come to CUicia for the purpose of stamp- 
 ing out Christianity. Julius had heard of the 
 measures put in force against the Christians, 
 but, not supposing that they concerned the 
 community in which Pamphilius lived, he never 
 thought of his friend in connection with the 
 matter. One day, as he was walking across 
 the public square on his way to his tribunal, a 
 shabbily dressed old man — to all appearance 
 a stranger — came hurrying up towards him. 
 This badly dressed man was Pamphilius. Pam- 
 philius drew near and accosted him. " How 
 are you, friend," he said. " I have a very 
 urgent and important request to make — but I 
 do not know whether, during this cruel perse- 
 cution of the Christians, you care to look upon 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 129 
 
 me as a friend, or whether you are afraid to 
 lose your position by having dealings with me." 
 
 " I fear no man," answered Julius ; " and 
 that you may have no misgivings on the sub- 
 ject, I will ask you to come along with me to 
 my house. I will even let my work stand over, 
 -in order to have a chat with you, and to render 
 you any service in my power. Come along. 
 Whose child is that ? " 
 
 " That's my son." 
 
 " But I need not have inquired. I recognize 
 your traits in his face. I also recognize those 
 blue eyes of his, and deem it superfluous to 
 ask who is your wife. It cannot be any one 
 but that beautiful girl whom I saw with you in 
 Tarsus many years ago. Those are her eyes." 
 
 " Your guess is correct," answered Pam- 
 philius. " Shortly after you and I last parted 
 she became my wife." 
 
 The two friends entered Julius's 'house. 
 Julius called his wife, confided the boy to her 
 care, then ushered in Pamphilius to his own 
 luxurious apartment, which was at a consider- 
 able distance from the other rooms, remarking 
 
130 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 as they entered : " Here you can talk to your 
 heart's content, and nobody will ever be the 
 wiser. You are out of the hearing of all the 
 world." 
 
 " Oh, I am not afraid of being overheard — 
 quite the reverse. Indeed, the request I have 
 to make is not that the Christians who have 
 been arrested and marked out for death should 
 not be executed, but that permission should 
 be accorded them to make a public profession 
 of their faith." 
 
 And Pamphilius narrated how the Chris- 
 tians who had been deprived of their liberty 
 by the authorities had sent word of their arrest 
 from the prisons in which they were confined 
 to the members of their community. Then 
 Cyril the elder, aware of Pamphilius's friendly 
 relations with Julius, had commissioned him to 
 come and make that request for the condemned 
 Christians. 
 
 The prisoners did not ask to be pardoned. 
 They held it to be their mission in life to bear 
 witness to the truth of Christ's teachings. This 
 testimony they could give by a long eighty 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 131 
 
 years' life, t by undergoing the pains of a 
 cruel death. It was quite immaterial to them 
 in which of these two ways they fulfilled the 
 main object of their existence ; physical death, 
 which in the long run was inevitable, had no 
 terrors for them, and it was quite as welcome 
 now as fifty years hence ; but they were vehe- 
 mently desirous that their lives should prove 
 beneficial to their fellows, and, to make sure of 
 this, deputed Pamphilius to ask as a boon that 
 their trial and execution should take place in 
 the presence of the people. 
 
 Julius was astonished at Pamphilius's strange 
 request, but jjromised to do everything that de- 
 pended on him to have it granted. 
 
 " I have promised you my mediation," Julius 
 said, " from a feeling of friendship for yourself, 
 and from a peculiar disposition to kindliness 
 which you always succeed in awakening within 
 me. At the same time, I feel I ought to tell 
 you that I consider your tenets in the last 
 degree extravagant and mischievous. I have a 
 right, I think, to form a judgment upon the 
 subject, seeing that I speak from experience. 
 
132 WOBK WIIILE YE 
 
 It is not long since I myself, in a moment of 
 utter dejection, brought on by disappointment 
 and disease, shared your views, and shared^ 
 them so fully that I was again on the point of 
 giving up everything and joining your sect. I 
 know the pivot on which all your errors turn, 
 the corner-stone of the whole system, for I 
 have myself built upon it ; it is self-love, faint- 
 heartedness, and debility caused by disease. 
 Yes ; Christianity is a creed for women, not for 
 men." 
 
 "But why so?" 
 
 " Because, although, on the one hand, you 
 acknowledge that discord and the numerous 
 forms of violence it engenders are inborn in 
 human nature, you refuse, on the other hand, 
 to hold aloof from these and their fruits, and 
 to abandon them to others who are of a difEer- 
 ent way of thinking ; and so, without contrib- 
 uting your share to the sum of human efforts, 
 you are not above reaping all the advantages 
 you can have from the organization of the 
 world, which you know to be founded on vio- 
 lence. Is this fair? The world has always 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 133 
 
 existed through and by means of its rulers. 
 They take upon themselves the work and the 
 responsibility of governing ; they protect us 
 from foreign and domestic enemies. We sub- 
 jects, in return for this, pay our rulers deference 
 and homage, obey their commands, and, when 
 needful, assist them to serve the state. 
 
 " But you Christians are not content to put 
 your shoulders to the wheel, and work for the 
 commonwealth as others do ; you must rise 
 gradually higher and higher in the obhgation 
 to treat others as your superiors, until at last 
 you are able to consider yourselves Caesar's 
 equals. Even this does not satisfy you. No ; 
 you protest against tributes and taxes, slavery, 
 the law courts, executions and wars — in a word, 
 against all those institutions which bind men 
 together and keep them united. If people 
 were to give ear to your doctrines, society 
 would very quickly fall to pieces and its mem- 
 bers return to their pristine savagery. Living 
 in a state, you preach the destruction of the 
 state ; you, whose very existence is dependent 
 on that of the state. If the state did not exist, 
 
134 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 you and your brethren would never have been 
 heard of ; we should all be slaves of the Scyths 
 or of the first savage tribes who discovered us. 
 
 " You are like a tumor which destroys the 
 body, and yet lives solely upon the body. The 
 living individual body struggles with and anni- 
 hilates the tumor, and we act, and cannot but 
 act, in precisely the same way towards you. 
 Hence, in spite of my promise to assist you to 
 realize your wishes, I look upon your tenets 
 as exceedingly pernicious and vile. Vile, be- 
 cause I hold that to gnaw the breast that 
 nourishes you is neither honorable nor just ; 
 and this is what you are doing who are willing 
 to profit by the advantages offered by the com- 
 monwealth, and yet not only refuse to move a 
 a finger in support of the organization by 
 which it exists, but actually endeavor to pull it 
 to pieces." 
 
 " There would be much truth ia what you 
 advance," replied PamphiHus, " if our Hfe cor- 
 responded to your description of it. But you 
 have no actual experience of the life we lead, 
 and your notions of it are false and misleading. 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 135 
 
 " The means of livelihood which we make 
 
 use of are readily obtainable without recurring 
 
 to any form of violence whatever ; and man is 
 
 so constituted that, so long as he is in normal 
 
 health, he can obtain by the work of his hands 
 
 more than he requires for the support of his 
 
 * 
 life. Living together in common, we are able 
 
 by the work of our hands to maintain our chil- 
 dren and old folks, our sick and infirm. 
 
 " You assert that your rulers protect men 
 from their foreign and domestic enemies. But 
 we love our enemies — and consequently have 
 none. 
 
 " You contend that we Christians arouse in 
 the breast of the slave a desire to be a Caesar. 
 In truth, we do to the contrary : by word and 
 deed we preach patient humility and work — 
 work of what is considered the lowest kind — 
 the work of the common day-laborer. 
 
 " About affairs of state we know nothing, 
 understand nothing. We know but one thing 
 in that sphere, but that we know thoroughly, 
 beyond the possibility of doubt ; namely, that 
 our happiness lies where the happiness of other 
 
136 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 people is to be found, and it is there that we 
 always seek it. The happiness of all men con- 
 sists in their union ; and their union must be 
 brought about, not by violence, but by love. 
 The violence of a highwayman towards a way- 
 farer is to our thinking neither more nor 
 less abominable than the violence employed by 
 troops against their prisoner, or by the judge 
 against the condemned culprit ; and it is impos- 
 sible that we should deliberately consent to have 
 hand or part in one or the other. Violence is 
 reflected in us ; but our share in it consists, not 
 in actively applying it against others, but in 
 submitting to it without protest." 
 
 " Yes," interrupted JuKus ; " but you only 
 seem to be martyrs, and to be ever eager to lay 
 down your lives for the truth. In reality, truth 
 is not on your side ; you are proud madcaps 
 engaged in sapping the foundations of social 
 life. In words you preach love, but it needs 
 no very searching analysis of the results that 
 flow from that love of yours to discover that it 
 should be called by a very different name ; for 
 the results in question are savagery, retrogression 
 
SAVE TBE LIGHT. 137 
 
 to the primitive state of nature, murders, rob- 
 bery, violence of all kinds, etc., which according 
 to your doctrines must not be opposed or checked 
 in any way." 
 
 " No ; that is not so," rejoined Pamphilius. 
 *" And if you will only consider carefully and 
 impartially what results from our teaching and 
 our Uving, you will see, without my pointing it 
 out, not only that murders, violence, and robbery 
 do not flow from them, but that, on the contrary, 
 crimes of this nature cannot be successfully 
 rooted out otherwise than by employing the 
 means we advocate. Murder, robbery, and 
 every kind of evil existed in the world long 
 before Christianity appeared there, and people 
 grappled with them in vain, employing those 
 means the efficacy of which we deny. These 
 expedients, which all consist in meeting violence 
 with violence, do not, cannot, check crime ; but 
 they provoke it, by arousing in individuals feel- 
 ings of anger and bitterness. 
 
 " Just look at the mighty Roman Empire. 
 In no other country have such pains been taken 
 to ftpply the laws as in Rome. The study and 
 
138 WOBK WHILE TE 
 
 delicate adjustment of the legislation to the 
 varying wants of the people have been raised to 
 the rank of a special science there. The laws 
 ttre taught in the schools, discussed in the sen- 
 ate^ reformed and administered by the most 
 gifted citizens. Legal justice is regarded as 
 one of the noblest human achievements, and the 
 office of judge is held in the highest esteem. 
 And yet it is known to every one that there is 
 no city existing at the present moment, through- 
 out the length and breadth of God's earth, 
 which has sunk so deeply in the ooze of 
 debauchery and crime as Rome. Call to mind 
 the history of Rome, and you will be struck by 
 the fact that the Roman people were distin- 
 guished by many virtues in remoter times, not- 
 withstanding the circumstance that the laws 
 then were neither so numerous, nor drawn up 
 with such a careful eye to the end in view, as at 
 the present time. Now-a-days, side by side 
 with the study, adjustment, and application of 
 the laws, we observe a steady deterioration in the 
 morals of the Roman people ; the number of 
 crimes continues to Increase, and the species of 
 
MAVH THE LIGHT. 139 
 
 criminal offences grow more various and artifi- 
 cial every day. 
 
 " To grapple successfully with crimes, or 
 with any description of evil, is possible only by 
 employing the means which Christianity places 
 within our reach — viz., love ; the Pagan 
 weapons of vengeance, punishment, violence, 
 are absurdly inefficacious. I am sure that you 
 yourself would like to see people refraining 
 from doing evil, not from fear of punishment, 
 but from a lack of desire to do what is wrong. 
 Surely you would not wish mankind to resemble 
 the wretches confined in prison, who abstain 
 from committing crime only because they are 
 continually watched and kept in order by their 
 gaolers. All the preventive and remedial laws 
 and punishments in the world will not root out 
 people's propensities to do wrong and put 
 a desire to do right in its place. The result 
 can be accomplished only when you deal with 
 the root of the evil which you seek to erad- 
 icate ; and the root lies inside the individ- 
 ual. And to do this is our aim and object, 
 whereas you confine yourself to the outward 
 
140 WOUK WSILE YE 
 
 manifestations of the evil. You can never 
 hope to reach its source, because you do not 
 seek for it, you do not know where it is hidden. 
 " The most common and prevalent crimes, 
 such as murder, robbery, theft, fraud, have their 
 source in men's desire to increase their stock of 
 
 • 
 
 this world's goods, or simply to obtain the bare 
 necessities of life, which for one reason or 
 another they cannot proQure in any other way. 
 Some of these crimes are punished by the law, 
 although those which are the most complicated 
 and wide reaching in their effects are committed 
 under the protecting wing of this same law ; 
 such, for instance, as huge commercial frauds, 
 and the endless ways of stripping the poor of 
 their possessions which are constantly practised 
 by the rich. Those crimes which are punished 
 by the law are to a certain extent checked or 
 rather made more difficult, and the criminals are 
 driven, by fear of incurring the penalty, to set 
 to work more prudently and cunningly than 
 would be otherwise necessary, devising new 
 species of crime which the law cannot punish. 
 By practising the teachings of the Christian 
 
ffAV:B! TBE LIGBT. 141 
 
 Religion a man keeps clear of all such crimes 
 as arise either from the scramble for riches or 
 from the unequal distribution of wealth, great 
 quantities of which are accumulated in the 
 hands of a few. We take away all motive to 
 crime, to robbery, and murder, solely by 
 refusing to take for ourselves more than what 
 is strictly indispensable for the support of life, 
 and by giving up to others all our free labor ; 
 thus it is that we never tempt others by the 
 sight of accumulated wealth, for we rarely 
 possess more than is absolutely necessary for our 
 day's support. Hence, if a man who is driven 
 to despair by the pains of hunger, and is ready 
 to commit a crime in order to procure a crust 
 of bread, comes to us, he will find what he is 
 in search of, without having recourse to crime 
 or violence, inasmuch as we live for the pur- 
 pose of sharing our last morsel of food, our 
 last shred of clothes, with those who are suffer- 
 ing from hunger and cold. And the result is 
 that one class of criminals avoids us altogether, 
 while the others come over to us, find sal- 
 vation, abandon their criminal life, and httle 
 
142 WORK WHILE YJS 
 
 by little Decome useful workers, toiling like the 
 others for the common good of all mankind. 
 
 " Another category of crime consists of those 
 offences which are provoked by the play of un- 
 bridled passions ; of vengeance, for instance, 
 jealousy, carnal love, anger, hatred. Criminal 
 acts of this species are never prevented by 
 laws. The individual about to commit them 
 is in a state of animal irresponsibility, — of 
 perfect freedom from all moral restraints ; and 
 thus blinded and swayed by his passion, he is 
 utterly incapable of gauging the tendency, oi 
 weighing the results, of his actions. An obsta- 
 cle only serves to fan the flame of his passion. 
 Laws, therefore, are perfectly useless as instru- 
 ments for suppressing such crimes. Our 
 method of tackling them is efficacious. We 
 believe that man will never attain the satisfac- 
 tion and the aim of life by ministering to his 
 passions, or anywhere except within himself in 
 his own soul. We endeavor, therefore, to tame 
 and curb our passions by a life of labor and of 
 love, developing thereby, in a corresponding 
 degree, the force and suppleness of the spiritual 
 
KAV^ THE LIGST. 143 
 
 principle within us ; and in proportion as our 
 number becomes larger, and our faith pene- 
 trates farther and deeper among men, will the 
 number of such crimes become less. 
 
 " Finally, there is stiU another class of crimes 
 which have their root in a sincere desire to 
 help one's fellow-creatures. The desire to alle- 
 viate the su:fferings of an entire people, for 
 instance, impels some men — conspirators they 
 are called — to kill a tyrant, in the belief that 
 they are thereby benefiting the majority. The 
 source of such crimes is a mistaken conviction 
 that evil may be perpetrated, in order that 
 good may follow. Now crimes of this descrip- 
 tion are not only not prevented, or their 
 number lessened, by the promulgation and ap- 
 plication of legal pains and penalties, but they 
 are positively provoked thereby. The persons 
 who commit offences of this kind, although 
 grievously mistaken in their hopes and beliefs, 
 are impelled to act as they do by a noble motive 
 — a desire to do good to others. Most of these 
 men, if sincere, are ready to lay down all they 
 have and are for the attainment of their end, 
 
144 WOBK WSILE YE 
 
 they quail before no dangers or difficulties. 
 Hence, years of punishment are powerless to 
 restrain or cause them to hesitate. On the con- 
 trary, dangers infuse new life and spirit into 
 them ; their sufferings raise them to the dignity 
 of martyrs, earn for them the sympathy of most 
 men, and stimulate many others to go and do 
 likewise. This is confirmed by the history of 
 any, of every, people. 
 
 " We Christians believe that the evil will not 
 cease entirely until all men get to understand 
 the gravity of the misfortunes it causes to 
 themselves and to others. We also know that 
 a brotherhood cannot be founded until every 
 one of us is himself a brother ; that a brother- 
 hood cannot be organized without brethren. 
 Therefore, we Christians, although we clearly 
 perceive the error of such conspirators, cannot 
 but appreciate their sincerity and self-denial, 
 and we draw near them, and meet them on the 
 common ground of the positive good which it 
 must be admitted they possess. 
 
 " In us they recognize, not foes, but people 
 quite as sincere and as eagerly bent on doing 
 
 (;,,■,■ . 
 
EAVE THE LIGHT. 145 
 
 good as they are themselves ; and many of 
 them come over to us, after having acquired 
 the conviction that a quiet life of toil and un- 
 ceasing solicitude for the welfare of others is 
 incomparably more beneficial to mankind and 
 a more difficult achievement than their momen- 
 tary feats of prowess, which are stained by the 
 blood of human life needlessly sacrificed. And 
 those conspirators who in this belief join our 
 body are always found among the most active 
 and vigorous members of our community, both 
 in body and in spirit. 
 
 " You have now data enough, Julius, to 
 decide for yourself who it is that grapples 
 more successfully with all kinds of crime 
 and contributes more efficaciously to suppress 
 it, — we Christians who preach and demon- 
 strate the joy and light of a spiritual life, 
 from which no evil can arise, we whose alms 
 are example and love, or your rulers and 
 judges who pass sentences according to the let- 
 ter of a dead law, and finish by rescuing their 
 victims, or lashing them into fury and driving 
 them to the uttermost extreme of hatred." 
 
146 WORK WHILE YH 
 
 "As long as I keep listening to you," re- 
 plied Julius, " I certainly seem to get the 
 impression that your point of view is the 
 correct one. But will you explain to me, 
 Pamphilius, how it is that people persecute 
 you, hunt you down, kill you ? How, in a word, 
 your doctrine of love can beget such discord 
 and strife ? " 
 
 " The source of this seeming anomaly is 
 not in us, it is outside us. I alluded, a few 
 moments ago, to a class of crimes which are 
 condemned as crimes both by the state and by 
 us. These crimes consist of a form of vio- 
 lence which transgre&ses the laws established 
 for the time being in any state. But, besides 
 and above these laws, people recognize other 
 laws which are eternal, common to all mankind, 
 engraved in the hearts of all human beings. 
 We Christians obey these divine universal laws, 
 and discern in the words and life of our 
 Teacher their fittest, clearest, and fullest ex- 
 pression. This is why we have come to con- 
 demn as a crime every form of violence which 
 transgresses any one of Christ's command- 
 
SA VE THE LIGHT. 147 
 
 ments, in all of which we see the expression 
 of God's law. We admit that, in order to 
 remove, when possible, all pretext for the 
 manifestation of ill-will against us, we are 
 bound to observe the civil laws of the country 
 in which we reside. But higher than all else 
 we place the law of God, which guides our 
 conscience and our reason ; and we can there- 
 fore obey only such laws of the state as are not 
 opposed to those of God. Let Csesar have 
 what is his of right ; but to God we must 
 render all that is God's. The crimes which we 
 are intent on avoiding and suppressing are not 
 merely transgressions against the laws of the 
 states in which we were born and must live, 
 but first and foremost every species of violation 
 of God's will, which is a law common to the 
 whole human race. Hence, our struggle with 
 crime is more comprehensive and more pro- 
 found than yours, which is carried on by the 
 state. 
 
 Now, this recognition by us of God's will as 
 the highest law shocks and incenses those who 
 give the first place to a private law — to the 
 
148 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 legislative measures of a state, for instance, 
 or — as is often the case — who raise a custom 
 of their class to the dignity of a law. These 
 individuals, unwilling or unahle to become men 
 in the true sense of the word, in the sense in 
 which Christ said that truth would make us 
 free men, are satisfied with the position of 
 subjects of this or that state, or members of 
 this or that society, and they are naturally 
 animated by feelings of enmity for those who 
 see and proclaim that man has a much higher 
 destiny, a far nobler mission. Unable to dis- 
 cern, reluctant to admit this higher destiny for 
 themselves, they refuse to acknowledge it for 
 others. Concerning them Christ said : ' Woe 
 unto you, lawyers ! for ye have taken away the 
 key of knowledge : ye entered not in your- 
 selves, and them that were entering in you 
 hindered.' They are the originators of that 
 persecution against us which puzzles you. 
 
 " We ourselves entertain feelings of enmity 
 for no man — not even for those who thus 
 pursue and persecute us, and our manner of 
 life inflicts no harm q- loss on any one. If 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 149 
 
 people are incensed against us, if they foster 
 feelings of hatred towards us, the only possible 
 reason is that our life is a constant rebuke to 
 them, a condemnation of their conduct, founded 
 as it is upon violence. To put an end to that 
 enmity, the cause of which does not lie with 
 us, is beyond our power, for we cannot cease 
 to comprehend the truth which we have already 
 comprehended; we cannot live against our 
 conscience and our reason. Concerning that 
 same hostility to us, which our faith arouses in 
 others, our Teacher said : ' Think not that I 
 am come to send peace : I came not to send 
 peace but a sword.' Christ felt the effects of 
 this hatred on His own person, and he warned 
 us, His followers, many times, that we too 
 should experience it. ' Me,' He said once, 
 ' the world hateth, because I testify of it, that 
 the works thereof are evil. If ye were of the 
 world, the world would love his own ; but 
 because ye are not of the world, but I have 
 chosen you out of the world, therefore the 
 world hateth you; and the time will come 
 when he who kills you will think that he hag 
 
150 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 served God.' But, strengthened by Christ's 
 example, we, Hke Him, do not fear those who 
 kill the body, for they can do nothing more. 
 Illumined by the rays of truth, we live in its 
 light, and our life knows not death. Physical 
 suffering and death no man can escape A 
 time will come when our executioners will also 
 suffer in body and die, and it is horrible to 
 think how the unfortunate, helpless creatures 
 will be tortured at the sight of death, which 
 will strip them of all that they acquired at the 
 cost of such arduous labor continued through- 
 out their lifetime. Thanks to God that we 
 are guaranteed against the most frightful of 
 all suffering ; for the happiness for which we 
 yearn consists not in immunity from bodUy 
 pain and death, but in the preservation and 
 development of equanimity in all the vicissi- 
 tudes of life, in the consoling conviction that 
 whatever happens to us independently of our 
 own will is unavoidable, and for our ultimate 
 good ; and, above all, in the knowledge that we 
 are true to our conscience and our reason — 
 these noble lights bestowed upon man by the 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 15] 
 
 Source of Truth. And thus we suffer nothing 
 from those who hate and persecute us. It is 
 not we, but they, who smart from the stings of 
 that enmity, that hatred, which, like a snake in 
 their bosom, they nurture in their hearts. 
 ' And this is their condemnation, that light is 
 come into the world, and men loved darkness 
 rather than light, because their deeds were 
 evil.' There is nothing to perplex or trouble 
 us in all that ; for truth will do its work. The 
 sheep hear the voice of their shepherd, and 
 they follow him, because they know his voice. 
 " And Christ's flock wiU not perish, but will 
 grow and thrive, attracting ever new sheep 
 from all parts of the world ; for the wind 
 bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the 
 sound thereof, but canst not teU whence it 
 Cometh, and whither it goeth." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 While he was still speaking, Pamphilius's 
 little son rushed into the apartment and hugged 
 and clasped his father. In spite of all the 
 coaxing and caresses, he had run away from 
 Julius's wife, and now took shelter in his 
 father's embrace. 
 
 Pamphilius sighed, fondled his boy, rose up 
 and was about to depart, but Julius detained 
 him, requested him to continue the conversation 
 and stay for dinner. 
 
 " I am astonished, I confess," said Julius, 
 "that you should be married and have children, 
 it is a mystery to me how you Christians can 
 bring up your children, in spite of the absence 
 of property; how Christian mothers can attain 
 peace of mind, knowing, as they doj' how pre- 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. .153 
 
 carious Is the future of their offspring, and 
 how powerless they are to put their children 
 beyond the reach of want." 
 
 " In what respect are our children worse off 
 than yours ? " asked PamphiHus. 
 
 " In this respect, that they have no slaves to 
 look after them, no property of any kind to 
 fall back upon. My wife is very favorably 
 disposed to Christianity, in fact at one time she 
 was firmly bent on abandoning her present life 
 and becoming a Christian. That was several 
 years ago — I, too, was then resolved to ac- 
 company her. But what frightened her more 
 than anything else was the precariousness of 
 the position of Christian children, the want to 
 which they are exposed. And I must say I 
 could not but agree with her. That was when 
 I was ill and confined to my bed. I was 
 then thoroughly disgusted Avith the life I had 
 been leading, and had taken the resolution to 
 forsake it once for all, and join your coni- 
 munity. But the apprehensions of my wife, on 
 the one hand, and the arguments of the 
 physician who attended me and brought me 
 
154 WORK WHILE YE 
 
 round, on the other hand, impressed me with 
 the conviction that the life of a Christian — at 
 least, as you understand and practise it — is 
 possible and beneficial only when those who 
 embrace it are unmarried ; but that persons 
 with families, mothers with children, are ut- 
 terly unsuited for it and should never think of 
 trying it. Furthermore, that the upshot of the 
 life you approve and lead will be the cessation 
 of all human life ; that is to say, the extinction 
 of the race. This is a fact which there is no 
 getting over. And, under such circumstances, 
 I was, I confess, rather surprised to see you 
 appear with a child by your side." 
 
 " And not one only, I may add ; for I left 
 at home a child in arms and a girl of three 
 years." 
 
 " Well, will you explain how it is done ? 
 Do what I will, I positively cannot understand 
 it. A few years ago I was, as I remarked, on 
 the point of forswearing my worldly life, and 
 embracing Christianity. But I was the father 
 of children, and I felt that, however distasteful 
 the fact might be to me, it still remained a 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 155 
 
 fact that I had no right to sacrifice my chil- 
 dren ; and, recognizing this, I stayed on, leading 
 my old life, for their sakes, in order to bring 
 them up in the same conditions as those in 
 which I was educated myself." 
 
 " It is very odd," replied Pamphilius, " that 
 you should reason so. From the same facts 
 we draw opposite conclusions. We say : If 
 grown-up people live in a worldly manner, this 
 is to a certain extent excusable, because they 
 are spoiled already. But children ? That is 
 horrible ! To live with them in the world and 
 expose them continually to its temptations and 
 dangers ? ' Woe unto the world because of 
 offences ! for it must needs be that offences 
 come ; but woe to that man by whom the 
 offence cometh.' 
 
 " These are the words of our Master, and I 
 make use of them for that reason, and because 
 they are the expression of the truth, and not 
 merely for the purpose of objecting ; for it is 
 really a fact that the necessity of living as we 
 live results mainly from the circumstance that 
 there are children in our midst, tender beings 
 
156 WOSK WHILE YH 
 
 of whom it has been said : ' Except ye become 
 as httle children, ye shall not enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven.' " 
 
 " But how can a Christian family contrive to 
 get along without ' definite means of sub- 
 sistence ? " 
 
 " Means of subsistence, according to our be- 
 lief, are of one kind, and only one kind : work, 
 for the benefit of others, inspired by love. 
 Your means of livelihood, on the contrary, is 
 violence, which vanishes as wealth vanishes, and 
 then nothing remains but the labor and love of 
 men. We start with the idea that we should 
 hold fast by that which is the foundation, the 
 basis of everything else, increasing it when pos- 
 sible. And when this is done, the family lives 
 and even thrives. 
 
 " No," continued Pamphilius ; "if I enter- 
 tained any doubts about the truth of Christ's 
 teachings, and if I hesitated about putting 
 them in practice, my doubts and hesitations 
 would instantly disappear the momert I pict- 
 ured to myself the sad fate of the children 
 who are brought up in Paganism, amid the 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 157 
 
 surroundings and associations in which you 
 grew up, and are now educating your children. 
 No matter what strenuous efforts we, a small 
 band of individuals, make to render life com- 
 fortable and pleasant, by means of palaces, 
 slaves, and the imported products of foreign 
 climes, the lives of the great mass of the peo- 
 ple will remain what they were, what they must 
 be. The only provision for these lives re- 
 mains the love of mankind and earnest toil. 
 We are desirous of freeing ourselves and our 
 friends from the pressure of these conditions, 
 and we get other people to work for us, not 
 voluntarily, out of love, but by employing vio- 
 lence ; and, strange to say, the better we seem 
 to provide for ourselves, the more we are de- 
 priving ourselves of the only true, natural, and 
 enduring provision — love. The greater the 
 power of the ruler, the less he is loved. 
 
 " The same thing holds good of that other 
 provision — work. The more a man shirks work 
 and accustoms himself to luxury, the loss capa- 
 ble he becomes of working, and the more he 
 consequently deprives himself of the true and 
 
158 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 eternal provision. And these conditions in 
 which people place their children, they term 
 making provision for them ! To test my state- 
 ment, take your son and mine, and send them 
 to find a road, to transmit an order, or to tran- 
 sact any important business, and note which 
 of them acquits himself more satisfactorily ; or 
 propose to confide them to a master to be edu- 
 cated, and see which of them will be the more 
 willingly received. No ; never again utter those 
 terrible words, that a Christian life is possible 
 only for those who are childless. On the con- 
 trary, one might rather say that to lead the life 
 of a Pagan is excusable only in those who are 
 without children. But woe to him who ofEend- 
 eth any of these little ones." 
 
 Julius remained silent. 
 
 " Yes," he said, after a considerable pause ; 
 " it may be that you are right. But their edu- 
 cation is already begun, the very best of 
 masters are teaching them. Let them learn all 
 that we know ; that can surely do them no 
 harm. There is plenty of time yet, both for 
 them and for me. They will be at liberty to 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 159 
 
 embrace your faith when they are in the flower 
 of their age and in the full enjoyment of all 
 their faculties — if they feel so disposed. As 
 for me, I can do so when I have provided for 
 my children, set them standing on their own 
 feet, so to say, and have thus become free." 
 
 " When you have known the truth you will 
 be free," answered Pamphilius. " Christ con- 
 fers perfect liberty at once ; the world's teach- 
 ings will never bestow it. Good-by ! " 
 
 And Pamphilius, with his son, departed. 
 
 The trial of the prisoners took place in the 
 presence of the people, and Julius saw Pam- 
 philius, and noticed how he, together with the 
 other Christians, assisted in removing the bodies 
 of the martyrs. He noticed that ; but fear of 
 offending his superiors kept him from ap- 
 proaching his friend, or inviting him to his 
 house. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Twelve years more passed away. Julius's 
 ■wife died. His time was filled up with the cares 
 and worry inseparable from public life, and in 
 the pursuit of power, which now became his for 
 passing moment, and now slipped away from 
 his grasp. His wealth was immense and he 
 still went on increasing it. 
 
 His sons had meanwhile grown to man's 
 estate and were leading — especially the second 
 one — a life of luxury and extravagance. This 
 young man had made considerable holes in the 
 vessel in which his father's riches were stored 
 up, and they leaked out with greater rapidity 
 than they were poured in. A struggle was 
 carried on between Julius and his sons which 
 was in all respects identical with that which had 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 161 
 
 been waged years before by himself and his 
 father. It was characterized by the same traits : 
 bitterness, hatred, jealousy. Moreover, about 
 this time a new viceroy had been appointed, who 
 deprived Julius of all the marks of imperial 
 favor. Julius was forsaken, in consequence, 
 by his former flatterers, and was now in expec- 
 tation of being banished. He repaired to Kome 
 in order to offer explanations, with a view to 
 recovering his lost position, but he was not 
 received and was commanded to return home. 
 
 On his arrival in Tarsus he found his son 
 banqueting with several dissolute young men in 
 his house. In Cilicia a rumor had been circu- 
 lated to the effect that Julius was dead, and his 
 son was joyfully celebrating his father's death. 
 At sight of this Julius, losing all control over his 
 passion, felled his son to the ground, left him 
 for dead, and withdrew to the apartment of his 
 late wife. 
 
 In his wife's room he found a scroll contain- 
 ing the Gospel, and read therein the words : 
 " Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy 
 laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
162 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Julius to himself ; " He has 
 been long calling me. I did not believe Him, 
 was disobedient and wicked ; and the yoke I 
 bore was heavy, the burden I carried was evil." 
 
 And for a long time Julius remained sitting 
 with the manuscript spread out before him on 
 his knees, meditating upon his past life, and 
 calling to mind what Pamphihus on various 
 occasions had told him. 
 
 At length he arose and went to his son, whom 
 he found on his feet, and he was overjoyed to 
 think that he had inflicted no serious harm bv 
 the blow. 
 
 Without addressing a word to his son, Julius 
 left the house, walked into the street, and took 
 the road that led to the Christian community. 
 
 He journeyed on the whole day ; and, when 
 evening came, he stopped at a villager's house, 
 where he intended to pass the night. In the 
 room into which he entered there was a man 
 stretched out on a couch. The noise of foot- 
 steps disturbed him and he raised himself up. 
 
 Julius recognized the physician. 
 
 " No," exclaimed Julius ; " never again shall 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 163 
 
 you dissuade me from carrying out my resolve. 
 This is the third time that I am bound for the 
 same destination, and I know that there, and 
 there only, I shall find peace of mind." 
 
 " Where ? " asked the physician. 
 
 " Among the Christians." 
 
 " Yes ; you may possibly find peace of mind 
 there, but you will certainly not be doing your 
 duty. You lack fortitude, my friend ; misfor- 
 tunes subdue you. True philosophers never 
 act thus. Disasters and reverses are but the 
 fire that tries the gold. You have passed 
 through the crucible ; and now that your services, 
 which might prove inestimable, are most urgent- 
 ly needed, you are sneaking away. It is now 
 that you should test others and yourself. You 
 have acquired true wisdom, and it is your duty 
 to make use of it for the good of the common- 
 wealth. What would become of the citizens 
 and the state; if those who have obtained a 
 thorough knowledge of men, their passions, 
 motives, and the conditions of their life, instead 
 of giving the benefit of their knowledge and 
 experience to the state, were to bury them out 
 
164 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 of sight and seek repose and tranquillity for 
 themselves ? Your wisdom has been gained in 
 society, and it is your duty to allow society to 
 reap the benefits of it." 
 
 " But I possess no wisdom. I am a bundle 
 of errors. True, they are ancient, ,|)ut then 
 antiquity does not transform errors into wis- 
 dom ; age and putridity, no matter what pro- 
 portions they may reacl., never change water 
 into wine." 
 
 And having said this, Julius caught up his 
 mantle, quitted the room and the house, and 
 vsdthout resting anywhere continued his journey. 
 
 The next evening, as the long shadows had 
 just deepened into darkness, he reached the 
 town of the Christians. He received a very 
 cordial welcome, notwithstanding that it was 
 not known that he was the personal friend of 
 Pamphilius, whom they all loved and revered. 
 
 At table Pamphihus perceived his friend, 
 and, with an affable smile, ran up to him, and 
 pressed him in his embrace. 
 
 "Here I am at last," exclaimed Julius. 
 " Tell me what I am to do ; I will obey you," 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 165 
 
 ** Don't worry about that," replied Pamphil- 
 ius ; " let us go together." And Pamphilius 
 led Julius into the house that was prepared for 
 strangers and wayfarers, pointed to the couch 
 there, and said : " You wUl find out yourself 
 in what v. ay you may be useful to others, as 
 soon as you have looked around you and grown 
 accustomed to ou? mode of life. But in order 
 that you may make a profitable use of your 
 present leisure, I will tell you what you might 
 do to-morrow : in our gardens the brethren are 
 busy gathering in the vintage ; go and give 
 them what assistance you can. "i ou will easily 
 find your place among them." 
 
 Julius went to the vineyards next morning. 
 The first was a young plantation with rich 
 clusters of grapes hanging down on every side. 
 The young people were gathering them in, and 
 carrying them away. All the work was por- 
 tioned out among them, and Julius went from 
 one to another, anxious to discover something 
 to do, but he found no place for himself there. 
 
 He penetrated further, and came into a 
 somewhat older plantation, where the crop was 
 
166 WOBK WHILE YE 
 
 considerably less. But here, too, he failed to 
 to get an occupation : the brethren were busy 
 working in pairs, and required no additional 
 hands. He continued his search, however, and 
 soon found himself in a very old vineyard. It 
 was empty. The vinestalks were warped and 
 crooked, and, as it seemed to Julius, wholly 
 devoid of fruit. 
 
 " So this is what my life is," he exclaimed 
 to himself, as he looked around. "Had I 
 come hither at the first call, my life would 
 have been as the fruits of the first vineyard. 
 Had I come at the second call, it would have 
 been like those of the older plantation ; but 
 now my life is as these useless, weakly, old 
 vinestalks, fit only to be thrown into the fire." 
 
 And Julius was terrified at what he had 
 done, and at the thought of the punishment 
 that awaited him for having wantonly squan- 
 dered his whole life. 
 
 And he became very sad, and said aloud : 
 " I am now fit for nothing ; there is now no 
 work that I can do." And he did not rise up 
 from his place, but wept bitterly over the 
 
HAVE THE LIGHT. 167 
 
 criminal loss of that which he knew he could 
 never more bring back. 
 
 Suddenly he heard the voice of an old man 
 calling out to him. " Work, dear brother," 
 said the voice. Looking round, Julius beheld 
 a very old man with snow-white hair, doubled 
 up with age, whose tottering feet scarcely bore 
 up the weight of his body. He stood beside a 
 vine, and was gathering the rare, sweet grapes 
 that grew here and there upon it. Julius went 
 up to him. 
 
 " Work, dear brother," he said ; " work is 
 sweet." And he taught him how to look for 
 the very few clusters that were still on the 
 stalks. 
 
 Julius set to work to do as he had been told, 
 and having found some bunches of grapes 
 took them to the old man and put them in his 
 basket. 
 
 And the old man said to him : " Look I In 
 what are these bunches inferior to those they 
 are gathering in the other plantations ? * Work 
 while ye have the light,' said our Teacher. *It 
 is the will of Him that sent me that whoso- 
 
168 WOBK irillLJS YE 
 
 ever seeth the Son and believeth in Him, has life 
 everlasting and I will raise him up on the last 
 day. For God did not send His Son into the 
 world to judge the world, but that the world 
 should be saved through Him. He who 
 believes in Him will not be judged, and he 
 who does not believe, is judged already, be- 
 cause he did not believe in the only-begotten 
 Son of God. The judgment consists in this, 
 that the light came into the world, but men 
 loved darkness better than the light, because 
 their deeds are evil. Eor every one that doeth 
 evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the 
 light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But 
 he that doeth truth, cometh to the light, that 
 his deeds may be made manifest, that they are 
 wrought in God.' 
 
 " You are disheartened and downcast, because 
 you have not done more than you have actually 
 accomplished. Do not grieve, my son ; for we 
 are all children of God, and his servants. We 
 are all soldiers of His army. Do you think 
 that He has no servants but yourself ? And 
 suppose you had devoted yourself to His ser* 
 
MAVE THE LIGHT. 169 
 
 vice in the vigor of your strength, do you 
 imagine that you would have accomplished all 
 that He requires, that you would have done for 
 your feUow-men all that is necessary, in order 
 to bring about His kingdom upon earth ? You 
 say that you would have accomplished twice as 
 much as you can now perform, ten times as much, 
 a hundred times as much. If you realized a 
 myriad times more than all mankind combined, 
 what would all this amount to in the work of 
 God? To nothing. The work of God, like 
 God Himself, has no limits, no end. God's 
 work is within you. Approach it, and become 
 not a workman but a son, and you will be a 
 copartner of God who is infinite, and a sharer 
 in His work. With God there is neither little 
 nor great ; and in life there is neither little 
 nor great, there is only straight or crooked. 
 Enter on the straight road in life and you will 
 be with God, and your work wiU be neither 
 great nor httle, it will be God's work. Ke- 
 member that there is more joy in heaven over 
 one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety 
 and nine just persons. The world's ways, and 
 
170 HAVE TEE LIGHT. 
 
 all that you have neglected to do, have shown 
 you your sin. And having seen your sin, you 
 have repented. And having repented, you 
 have found the right road. And now that you 
 are on the right road, go forwards with God ; 
 think no more of the past, of little and of 
 great. AU living men are equal before God. 
 There is one God and one life." 
 
 And Julius grew calm and composed again 
 — obtaining the peace of mind he had yearned 
 for ; and he manfully set himself to live and 
 to work to the utmost of his power for the 
 good of his fellow-men. And he lived thus 
 joyfully twenty years, his soul too full to allow 
 him to perceive the slow approach of physical 
 death. 
 
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THE ALGERSERIES for BOYS 
 
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