Hypatia — or New Foes with an Old Face

morning's work. Till then all Christians, monks above all, had been

esy and self-restraint, which made Raphael's rebukes rankle all the more keenly, because he felt that the rebuker was in some mysterious way superior to him, and saw through him, and could have won him Over, Or crushed him in argument, or in intrigue-or in anything, perhaps, except mere brute force. Strange-that Raphael, of all men, should in those few moments have reminded him so much of Arsenius; and that the very same qualities which gave a peculiar charm to the latter should give a peculiar unloveliness to the former, and yet be, without a do

on, and the mid-day meal, and the afternoon's work, to which Phi

he Serapeium, and thinking how often he had delighted in their air-dance, as they turned and hawked up and down the dear old glen at Scetis. A crowd of citizens with causes, appeals, and petitions, were passing in and out from the patriarch

n, requested the help of one of the parabolani. He had a sailor's fa

answered an off-hand 'Very wel

n before, re-presented the i

people cannot obtain influence enough in their own parishes to get the sim

ning a second look at him, said-'Find him a man, brother Peter. Anybody will

roposition favourably, and whispe

ons must take their chance of being well served. Co

sake,' grumbled Peter, loud enough for Philam

as he went questioned his companion

directly as he could, to obtain information about her. There was no need for his cauti

dealer in spells and sorceress! She is th

another, 'that she is the

it is prophesied that he wil

ant her,' said Peter

zra her pupil in philo

n find where-with to delude men

ago, but the great ones find it still w

they haunt her house,' said Peter. 'Do you th

the old priest; 'Synesius of Cyrene is a

d despised the gift of the Holy Ghost in comparison of the carnal joys of wedlock, not knowing the Scriptures, which saith that those who are in the flesh cannot please God! Wel

rofligate?' as

nesses as filthy rags? What says St. Paul?-That God has given them over to a reprobate mind, full o

nd is sh

st, are only bedizened vices, cunning shams, the devil transformed into an angel of light. And as for chastity, the flower and crown of all virtues-whosoever says that she, being yet a heathen, has that, bla

had very good sources of information. So Philammon walked on, sad, he knew not why, at the new notion which he had formed of Hypatia, as a sort of awful sorceress-Messalina, whose den was foul with magic

o go on their joint errand together. They paced on for some way in silence, up one street and

! If I, a priest, am to be insulted by archde

you I mean

the young ones catch it of the old ones fast eno

mpanions?' said Philammon, who of course was boiling over

ans

ot among the most hol

nion, in a tone which so

nk so?' asked P

times, when men dare suffer and die for the faith. We are too prosperous nowadays; and fine ladies walk about with Magdalens embroide

eaking of the

ption from taxes, and leaves the work to poor men like you. Rotten, rotten! my son, and you will find it out. The preachers, now-people used to say-I know Abbot Isidore did-that I ha

urely

him a bad one. So here am I slaving away, a subordinate priest, while such fellows as Peter the Reader look down on me as their slave. But it's always so. There never was a bishop yet, except the blessed Augustine-would to Heaven I had taken my abbot's advice, and gone to him at Hippo!-who had not his flatterers and his tale-bearers, and generally the archdeacon at the head of them, ready to step into the bishop's place when he dies, over the heads of hard-working parish priests. But that is the way of the world. The sleekest and the oiliest, and the noisiest; the man who can bring in most money to the charities, never

ow

I'm sure. But they do say that there are two ways of promotion in Ale

ossi

dained that street-dog-and plundered him and brought him to disgrace-for I don't believe this bishop is a bad man, but those who use rogues must expect to be called rogues-and ground the poor to the earth, and tyrannised over the whole city so that no man's property, or reputation, scarcely their lives, were safe

he sacrilegious w

ose him! So the fellow, taking courage, brought his money himself the next time; and all the world sa

an's character,' said poor Phi

g with it. Isidore had writ

scandal, and preserve the unity of th

an laughe

a little noise; as if the worst of all scandals was not the being discovered in hushing up a scandal.

ersecu

at fight for place and power. Every one is jealous of his neighbour. The priests are jealous of the deacons, and good cause they have. The county bishops are jealous of the metropolitan, and he is jealous of the North African bishops, and quite right he is. What business have they to s

hilammon, jealous for the ho

me and Constantinople are

Cy

t their beck and nod, and let the

things can be se

one of them; for he never had seen one which did not call out every evil passion in men's hearts, and leave the question more confounded with words than they found it, even if the whole m

oo

was young, the Council of Antioch had to make a law to keep bishops from running off to Constantinople to intrigue, under pretence of pleading the cause of the orphan and widow. But what's the use of tha

il of dignities"? 'said Philammon

vil of dignities, when I complain of

t interpretation o

cooks must settle. Of course, I am a disappointed, irreverent old grumbler. Of course, and of course, too, young men must needs buy their own experience, instead of taking old folks' at a gi

rch which they were passing an object new to Philammon-a sedan-chair, the poles of which we

he perspiration from their foreheads, and a smart slave-girl stepped forward, with a

t, I te

nstep, was put forth delicately from beneath the curt

n-Abbot Isidore used to say-ay, and told Iron, the pleader, to his face, that he could not conceiv

I,' said

. We can't even walk up the steps of God's temple wi

thy shoes from off thy feet, for the pla

find it convenient to recollect.-Look! There is one of the pill

s stuffed out behind in a fashion which provoked from the dirty boys who lay about the steps, gambling for pistachios on their fingers, the same comments with which St. Clement had upbraided from the pulpit the Alexandrian ladies of his day. The said gown of white silk was bedizened, from waist to ankle, with certain mysterious red and green figures at least a foot long, which Philammon gradually discovered to be

on the head carried in front a large gold cross; while above and around it her hair, stiffened with pomatum, was frizzled out half a foot from a

hand on her jewelled bosom, the fair penitent was proceeding up the steps, when she caught sight of the priest and the mon

enough, 'kiss the hem of your own. You carry two le

and fury. 'I asked for your blessing, and n

to the ragged boys, and murmuring to herself, loud enough for Philammon's hearing, that she should

e this Indian wool! Ah! if you knew the debts which I have been compelled to incur in the service of the sanctuary!-" And then of course the answer will be, as, indeed, he expects it should, that if it can be of the least use in the service of the Temple, she, of course, will think it

'dare she actually not

e him.... As Jerome says, in a letter of his I once saw, ladies think twice in s

and wisely held his peace, w

ine lady with a cross on her forehead, you will be ready to run to the Pillars of Hercules at her beck and nod, for the

wom

ther her saintship there is clapping or not? She, who has such a delicate sense for orthodoxy, that she can scent out Novatianism or Origenism where no other mortal nose would suspect it. She who meets at her own house weekly all the richest and most pious women of the city,

il truckle to s

almshouses, and orphan-houses, and lodging-houses, and hospitals, and workshops, and all the rest of it-and in that, I will say for him, there is no man on earth equal to him, but Ambrose of Milan and Basil of Caesarea-why, I do

the effectual and proportionate working of every part, increased the body, and enabled it to build itself up in Love!' He shuddered as the well-known words passed through his memory, and seemed to mock the base and chaotic reality around him. He felt angry with the old man for having broken his dream; he longed to believe that his complaints were only exaggerations of cynic peevishness, of selfish disappointment; and yet, had not Arsenius warned him? Had he not foretold, word for word, what the youth would find-what he had found? Then was Saint Paul's great idea an empty and an impossible dream? No! God's word could not fail; the Church could not err. The fault could not

n he went out against the giant-awaken selfish and luxurious souls to a noble emulation, and recall to their minds, perhaps to their lives, the patterns of those martyrs who were the pride, the glory, the heirloom of Egypt? And as figure after figure rose before his imagination, of simple men and weak women who

s brother visitors when the absorbing thought took word again, and h

the city, and torturing and murdering the prisoners whom they took; of the martyrs who, among those very pillars which overhung their heads, had died in torments rather than sacrifice to Serapis; and of the final victory, and the soldier who, in presence of the trembling mob, clove the great jaw of the colossal idol, and snapped for ever the spell of heathenism, Philammon's heart burned to d

have no wish to get our brains knocked out by a

it,' said

ss allows you to make s

blessed martyrs, from St. Stephen to St. Tele

ly inform his holines

new idea, wished for nothing more. And there

generation is growing insufferable,'

rs on their mettle in the race of good w

faith against Hypatia. He actually proposed to go into her lecture-room and argue with her

s silent

itria on bread and water? You, I am sure, will not allow such things to go unp

ilst Peter's brow clouded

s martyrs. Send

hich looked but too like envy, and ushered up the trembli

hen woman's lecture-room, and de

ll give

murdered by

donable glance downward at his sinewy limbs. 'And

lly enough. 'Promi

sand, if

n promises, and rasher in forgetting them. Promise me th

d

, that you will n

t th

t. She is subtler than the serpent, skilled in all the tricks of logic,

d

en

he

at hour does the accursed wom

to the Museum at n

to-morrow. There

fingering curiously the first coins w

ch of God, open all day long to the beggar and the slave. If you convert her, well. And if

up to Ramoth Gilead, and prosper, young fool! What evil spir

asked Philammon, as

t well enough. If he had not, Olympiodorus might have been master of Alexandria, and incense burning before Serapis to this day. Ay, go, and let her convert you! Touch the accursed thing, li

ging sentence, the tw