It was a momentous event, therefore, for themselves and for others when the two natives of Cabira happened to meet in the streets at Rome. This meeting took place, it has been said, some time after Aquila’s acquaintance with the two Roman ladies had begun. It was not long before the newcomer’s experiences at Jerusalem were made known to his friend. Andronicus had committed to writing as much as he had been able of Philip’s reminiscences and instructions, and he lost no time in giving Aquila the benefit of what he himself prized so highly. Aquila listened with eager attention; what he heard seemed at once new and familiar. It was familiar because it seemed to put old hopes and longings into shape; it was new because the shape had a reality and an attraction such as far transcended his largest imaginings. One of his first thoughts was to [37] communicate his own knowledge to Pomponia and Fabia. He asked leave to bring Andronicus with him on his next visit, and the permission was gladly given. The two ladies listened to the story with the same rapt attention which Aquila had given it, and it had the same convincing effect. But when it came to the question how the conviction thus wrought was to take shape in action, the situation that presented itself was perplexing. Pomponia could not see her way plain before her. Her husband held high office in the State, and as a soldier of distinction and experience, was a confidential counsellor of the Emperor. Claudius, well meaning, though weak, was already too much under the dominion of unworthy favourites, and it seemed to her a lamentable thing to do anything that would weaken her husband’s more salutary influence. And she was convinced that such a result would follow were she to make open profession of her new belief. Perhaps she would have done better to have ventured all, but if she held back it was not from any fear of consequences to herself, but because she had a profound faith in her husband and in what he would do for Rome. Fabia had no such ties. She was almost alone in the world, and had consequently far more practical independence than a woman could commonly hope to have in Rome. She [38] made up her mind to be baptizedand after? Then her difficulties began. For an unmarried woman to live alone in Rome was practically impossible. She had suitors, for she was of the noblest blood in Rome, she was beautiful, and she had an adequate, even a large fortune. But her suitors were, of course, of the old faith. The Christian minister whose counsel she sought confirmed her own conviction that marriage with a Pagan was impossible. The suitor might promise, but the husband would not be likely, probably would not be able, to perform.
At this point Pomponia had a sudden impulse to intervene. Why should not her young friend find one who would be at once husband, protector and teacher, in Aquila? The suggestion was startling, and at first distasteful. Priscilla had her full share of pride of race, and she could not relinquish it in a moment. That this daughter of men who had made themselves masters of the world should own as her own master one of a subject race seemed at first preposterous. But the thought that was at first so strange became familiar. There were at work the persuasions of her friend, always tactfully employed and never missing when an occasion presented itself; there was the conviction that there was no better way out of a singularly difficult position; there was [39] the consciousness of the young Jew’s heartfelt admiration, which he now ventured, at Pomponia’s suggestion, to make a little more evident than he would otherwise have dared to do. And then, most potent motive of all, there was the thought that in what concerned the deepest interest of her life, the young man was in the fullest sympathy with her. To say, as one might say if the scene of the story were in the England of this twentieth century, that Fabia fell in love with Aquila, would be incorrect. This was hardly the way with a Roman maiden, and certainly not with Fabia. But she yielded by degrees to the conviction that the marriage was in the path of duty, and it was not long before she began to feel that the path was one which she would willingly follow. At the season of Whitsuntide the two were baptized. Aquila, who had actually been for some time accepted as a candidate for the holy rite, had delayed his profession till he could make it with the woman he loved. On the third day after, the marriage was celebrated. This was the Priscilla to whom Eleazar was now introduced.
ARCHIAS OF CORINTH
[40] THE conversation that followed the introduction was profoundly interesting. Eleazar had much to say about his friends at Alexandria, about the other Aquila with whom he had been for some years on terms of intimacy, and many others, not a few of whom turned out, as so often happens, to be mutual acquaintances. Much was said about an eminent native of the city who had lately passed away, the great philosopher Philo. Aquila had made his acquaintance some ten years before, when he had come to Rome with some of his countrymen in the forlorn hope of inducing the Emperor of the time, the madman Caligula, to listen to reason. The unworldly old scholar, who, after fifty years devoted without intermission to study, had left the calm seclusion of his library to champion his race, and had braved without betraying one symptom of fear, the fury of the tyrant, had profoundly impressed all beholders. Aquila had been able to render some little service [41] to the old man, who was in feeble health. He had supplied him with money when, in consequence of unexpected delays, his resources had failed, and had assisted him to acquire some rare books, treatises on philosophy and other similar volumes, to which he calmly turned from the thankless and wearisome business which had brought him to the capital. Eleazar, on the other hand, had done some business for him, after his return to Alexandria, advising him about investing some sums of money which happened to come to him, and finally acting as the executor of his will. From the man it was an easy transition to pass to the teaching. Eleazar had been deeply interested in this, and had had the advantage, thanks to the intimacy which he had enjoyed during the last year of the old man’s life, of hearing it expounded in familiar language. He was therefore in a measure prepared for Aquila’s application of its central idea of a Divine Word. He had often meditated on the great question, What is this Word? Is it Jehovah under another name? That there was One God and One only was the foundation truth of all his faith; and yet the sages of his race had used language which seemed to have at least a different ring, (Footnote: So, “I was always before Him rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth” (Proverbs viii. 31).) and now Aquila took up Philo’s great doc- [41] trine as his text and “preached unto him Jesus.” That he was convinced at once must not be supposed. The idea that “the Word was made flesh,” that God dwelt for a time in a tabernacle of human flesh, seemed at first almost shocking to him, habituated as he was to thinking of the Deity as dwelling in an unapproachable splendour.
When he was compelled to depart, for the talk was prolonged far into the night, and he was bound to present himself without more delay at his uncle’s house, Aquila had put into his hands a copy of the precious document which he himself had received from his fellow townsman Andronicus. With this precious loan Eleazar departed, and having begged permission, on arriving at his uncle’s house, to seek his chamber, devoted himself immediately to the study of it. He did not sleep till he had gone through it more than once, and after a few hours of sleep, he studied it again. As soon as courtesy permitted, and what was necessary in the way of business had been transacted, he hurried again to Aquila’s house full of an earnest desire to hear all that he could learn. The twoor rather the three, for Priscilla was never willingly absent when such topics were discussedwere deep in talk, when a stranger, of whom we shall hear again in the course of the story, was announced.
[43] “Don’t go,” said Aquila to his young friend; “we have still much to say to each other, and it is possible that I may be soon disengaged. May I ask, sir, whether it is likely that your business will keep me long?”