The answer was brought with my coffee. I welcomed Tremerello, and, embracing him, exclaimed, "May G.o.d reward you for this goodness!"
My suspicions had fled, because they were hateful to me; and because, making a point of never speaking imprudently upon politics, they appeared equally useless; and because, with all my admiration for the genius of Tacitus, I had never much faith in the justice of TACITISING as he does, and of looking upon every object on the dark side. Giuliano (as the writer signed himself), began his letter with the usual compliments, and informed me that he felt not the least anxiety in entering upon the correspondence. He rallied me upon my hesitation; occasionally a.s.sumed a tone of irony; and then more seriously declared that it had given him no little pain to observe in me "a certain scrupulous wavering, and a subtilty of conscience, which, however Christian-like, was little in accordance with true philosophy." "I shall continue to esteem you," he added, "though we should not agree upon that point; for I am bound, in all sincerity, to inform you, that I have no religion, that I abhor all creeds, and that I a.s.sume from a feeling of modesty the name of Julian, from the circ.u.mstance of that good emperor having been so decided an enemy of the Christians, though, in fact, I go much further than he ever did. The sceptred Julian believed in G.o.d, and had his own little superst.i.tions. I have none; I believe not in a G.o.d, but refer all virtue to the love of truth, and the hatred of such as do not please me." There was no reasoning in what he said.
He inveighed bitterly against Christianity, made an idol of worldly honour and virtue; and in a half serious and jocular vein took on himself to p.r.o.nounce the Emperor Julian"s eulogium for his apostasy, and his philanthropic efforts to eradicate all traces of the gospel from the face of the earth.
Apprehending that he had thus given too severe a shock to my opinions, he then asked my pardon, attempting to excuse himself upon the ground of PERFECT SINCERITY. Reiterating his extreme wish to enter into more friendly relations with me, he then bade me farewell.
In a postscript he added:- "I have no sort of scruples, except a fear of not having made myself sufficiently understood. I ought not to conceal that to me the Christian language which you employ, appears a mere mask to conceal your real opinions. I wish it may be so; and in this case, throw off your cloak, as I have set you an example."
I cannot describe the effect this letter had upon me. I had opened it full of hope and ardour. Suddenly an icy hand seemed to chill the life-blood of my heart. That sarcasm on my conscientiousness hurt me extremely. I repented having formed any acquaintance with such a man, I who so much detest the doctrine of the cynics, who consider it so wholly unphilosophical, and the most injurious in its tendency: I who despise all kind of arrogance as it deserves.
Having read the last word it contained, I took the letter in both my hands, and tearing it directly down the middle, I held up a half in each like an executioner, employed in exposing it to public scorn.
CHAPTER x.x.xVII.
I kept my eye fixed on the fragments, meditating for a moment upon the inconstancy and fallacy of human things I had just before eagerly desired to obtain, that which I now tore with disdain. I had hoped to have found a companion in misfortune, and how I should have valued his friendship! Now I gave him all kinds of hard names, insolent, arrogant, atheist, and self-condemned.
I repeated the same operation, dividing the wretched members of the guilty letter again and again, till happening to cast my eye on a piece remaining in my hand, expressing some better sentiment, I changed my intention, and collecting together the disjecta membra, ingeniously pieced them with the view of reading it once more. I sat down, placed them on my great Bible, and examined the whole. I then got up, walked about, read, and thought, "If I do not answer,"
said I, "he will think he has terrified me at the mere appearance of such a philosophical hero, a very Hercules in his own estimation.
Let us show him, with all due courtesy, that we fear not to confront him and his vicious doctrines, any more than to brave the risk of a correspondence, more dangerous to others than to ourselves. I will teach him that true courage does not consist in ridiculing CONSCIENCE, and that real dignity does not consist in arrogance and pride. He shall be taught the reasonableness of Christianity, and the nothingness of disbelief. Moreover, if this mock Julian start opinions so directly opposite to my own, if he spare not the most biting sarcasm, if he attack me thus uncourteously; is it not all a proof that he can be no spy? Yet, might not this be a mere stratagem, to draw me into a discussion by wounding my self-love?
Yet no! I am unjust--I smart under his bitter irreligious jests, and conclude at once that he must be the most infamous of men. Base suspicion, which I have so often decried in others! he may be what he appears--a presumptuous infidel, but not a spy. Have I even a right to call by the name of INSOLENCE, what he considers SINCERITY.
Is this, I continued, thy humility, oh, hypocrite? If any one presume to maintain his own opinions, and to question your faith, he is forthwith to be met with contempt and abuse. Is not this worse in a Christian, than the bold sincerity of the unbeliever? Yes, and perhaps he only requires one ray of Divine grace, to employ his n.o.ble energetic love of truth in the cause of true religion, with far greater success than yourself. Were it not, then, more becoming in me to pray for, than to irritate him? Who knows, but while employed in destroying his letter with every mark of ignominy, he might be reading mine with expressions of kindness and affection; never dreaming I should fly into such a mighty pa.s.sion at his plain and bold sincerity. Is he not the better of the two, to love and esteem me while declaring he is no Christian; than I who exclaim, I am a Christian, and I detest you. It is difficult to obtain a knowledge of a man during a long intercourse, yet I would condemn him on the evidence of a single letter. He may, perhaps, be unhappy in his atheism, and wish to hear all my arguments to enable him the better to arrive at the truth. Perhaps, too, I may be called to effect so beneficent a work, the humble instrument of a gracious G.o.d. Oh, that it may indeed be so, I will not shrink from the task."
CHAPTER x.x.xVIII.
I sat down to write to Julian, and was cautious not to let one irritating word proceed from my pen. I took in good part his reflection upon my fastidiousness of conscience; I even joked about it, telling him he perhaps gave me too much credit for it, and ought to suspend his good opinion till he knew me better. I praised his sincerity, a.s.suring him that he would find me equal to him in this respect, and that as a proof of it, I had determined to defend Christianity, "Well persuaded," I added, "that as I shall readily give free scope to your opinions, you will be prepared to give me the same advantage."
I then boldly entered upon my task, arguing my way by degrees, and a.n.a.lysing with impartiality the essence of Christianity; the worship of G.o.d free from superst.i.tions, the brotherhood of mankind, aspiration after virtue, humility without baseness, dignity without pride, as exemplified in our Divine Saviour! what more philosophical, and more truly grand?
It was next my object to demonstrate, "that this divine wisdom had more or less displayed itself to all those who by the light of reason had sought after the truth, though not generally diffused till the arrival of its great Author upon the earth. He had proved his heavenly mission by effecting the most wonderful and glorious results, by human means the most mean and humble. What the greatest philosophers had in vain attempted, the overthrow of idolatry, and the universal preaching of love and brotherhood, was achieved by a few untutored missionaries. From that era was first dated the emanc.i.p.ation of slaves, no less from bondage of limbs than of mind, until by degrees a civilisation without slavery became apparent, a state of society believed to be utterly impracticable by the ancient philosophers. A review of history from the appearance of Christ to the present age, would finally demonstrate that the religion he established had invariably been found adapted to all possible grades in civilised society. For this reason, the a.s.sertion that the gospel was no longer in accordance with the continued progress of civilisation, could not for a moment be maintained."
I wrote in as small characters as I could, and at great length, but I could not embrace all which I had ready prepared upon the subject.
I re-examined the whole carefully. There was not one revengeful, injurious, or even repulsive word. Benevolence, toleration, and forbearance, were the only weapons I employed against ridicule and sarcasm of every kind; they were also employed after mature deliberation, and dictated from the heart.
I despatched the letter, and in no little anxiety waited the arrival of the next morning, in hopes of a speedy reply.
Tremerello came, and observed; "The gentleman, sir, was not able to write, but entreats of you to continue the joke."
"The joke!" I exclaimed. "No, he could not have said that! you must have mistaken him."
Tremerello shrugged up his shoulders: "I suppose I must, if you say so."
"But did it really seem as if he had said a joke?"
"As plainly as I now hear the sound of St. Mark"s clock;" (the Campanone was just then heard.) I drank my coffee and was silent.
"But tell me; did he read the whole of the letter?"
"I think he did; for he laughed like a madman, and then squeezing your letter into a ball, he began to throw it about, till reminding him that he must not forget to destroy it, he did so immediately."
"That is very well."
I then put my coffee cup into Tremerello"s hands, observing that it was plain the coffee had been made by the Siora Bettina.
"What! is it so bad?"
"Quite vile!"
"Well! I made it myself; and I can a.s.sure you that I made it strong; there were no dregs."
"True; it may be, my mouth is out of taste."
CHAPTER x.x.xIX.
I walked about the whole morning in a rage. "What an abandoned wretch is this Julian! what, call my letter a joke! play at ball with it, reply not a single line! But all your infidels are alike!
They dare not stand the test of argument; they know their weakness, and try to turn it off with a jest. Full of vanity and boasting, they venture not to examine even themselves. They philosophers, indeed! worthy disciples of Democritus; who DID nothing but laugh, and WAS nothing but a buffoon. I am rightly served, however, for beginning a correspondence like this; and still more for writing a second time."
At dinner, Tremerello took up my wine, poured it into a flask, and put it into his pocket, observing: "I see that you are in want of paper;" and he gave me some. He retired, and the moment I cast my eye on the paper, I felt tempted to sit down and write to Julian a sharp lecture on his intolerable turpitude and presumption, and so take leave of him. But again, I repented of my own violence, and uncharitableness, and finally resolved to write another letter in a better spirit as I had done before.
I did so, and despatched it without delay. The next morning I received a few lines, simply expressive of the writer"s thanks; but without a single jest, or the least invitation to continue the correspondence. Such a billet displeased me; nevertheless I determined to persevere. Six long letters were the result, for each of which I received a few laconic lines of thanks, with some declamation against his enemies, followed by a joke on the abuse he had heaped upon them, a.s.serting that it was extremely natural the strong should oppress the weak, and regretting that he was not in the list of the former. He then related some of his love affairs, and observed that they exercised no little sway over his disturbed imagination.
In reply to my last on the subject of Christianity, he said he had prepared a long letter; for which I looked out in vain, though he wrote to me every day on other topics--chiefly a tissue of obscenity and folly.
I reminded him of his promise that he would answer all my arguments, and recommended him to weigh well the reasonings with which I had supplied him before he attempted to write. He replied to this somewhat in a rage, a.s.suming the airs of a philosopher, a man of firmness, a man who stood in no want of brains to distinguish "a hawk from a hand-saw." {16} He then resumed his jocular vein, and began to enlarge upon his experiences in life, and especially some very scandalous love adventures.
CHAPTER XL.
I bore all this patiently, to give him no handle for accusing me of bigotry or intolerance, and in the hope that after the fever of erotic buffoonery and folly had subsided, he might have some lucid intervals, and listen to common sense. Meantime I gave him expressly to understand that I disapproved of his want of respect towards women, his free and profane expressions, and pitied those unhappy ones, who, he informed me, had been his victims.
He pretended to care little about my disapprobation, and repeated: "spite of your fine strictures upon immorality, I know well you are amused with the account of my adventures. All men are as fond of pleasure as I am, but they have not the frankness to talk of it without cloaking it from the eyes of the world; I will go on till you are quite enchanted, and confess yourself compelled in VERY CONSCIENCE to applaud me." So he went on from week to week, I bearing with him, partly out of curiosity and partly in the expectation he would fall upon some better topic; and I can fairly say that this species of tolerance, did me no little harm. I began to lose my respect for pure and n.o.ble truths, my thoughts became confused, and my mind disturbed. To converse with men of degraded minds is in itself degrading, at least if you possess not virtue very superior to mine. "This is a proper punishment," said I, "for my presumption; this it is to a.s.sume the office of a missionary without its sacredness of character."
One day I determined to write to him as follows:- " I have hitherto attempted to turn your attention to other subjects, and you persevere in sending me accounts of yourself which no way please me.
For the sake of variety, let us correspond a little respecting worthier matters; if not, give the hand of fellowship, and let us have done."