§ 5. HOW I RETURNED TO COLOSSÆ, AND OF MY NEW LIFE WITH PHILEMON.
Even while Philemon embraced me on my return to Colossæ, I perceived that he was marvellously changed. Whereas he had been wont to wear on his countenance an anxious and restless expression, now he was calm and composed, with a cheerfulness that seemed to spring (not as in the former days of his settled health when I first knew him) from easiness and good temper, but from some deep change in his nature. The suspicion that came into my mind on beholding him was confirmed by the first words he uttered thanking the Lord for my safe return; and he immediately avowed that he had become a Christian. Had he then, I asked, submitted himself to the Jewish law? No, he replied; Paulus (the same of whom we had heard so much while we were in Syria) who had admitted my master into the sect of the Christians, had taught him that it was neither needful nor fitting that he, being a Gentile, should observe the laws of the Jews. When I asked him what Artemidorus said, he bade me no more mention the name of the Epicurean, whose society, said he, I have for sometime renounced. Of others of my best friends he spoke in the same way, especially of Epictetus, and Heracleas; but he made mention of other persons, mostly bearing Jewish names, and men either not known to me or known to be illiterate and of the common sort, with whom he hoped I should soon be better acquainted; “for they,” said he, “belong to us—as will you also, my dear Onesimus, in due time, I hope and earnestly believe—and the brethren of Colossæ are wont to meet at worship at my house.” My thoughts being in a maze I thought to turn the discourse by questioning him concerning friends and kinsfolk, and I inadvertently asked whether his sister’s son—who was wont to come in from the country to visit him each year—was intending to come to the city at the forthcoming feast of Zeus; but Philemon, making some hasty sign to deprecate my speech about the festival, added gravely and with authority that he was assured I should no longer wish to take part in the procession nor to go to any of the games or public spectacles; “for,” said he, “it is not gods but demons that preside over such shows.” Much more he said on this topic; and I found that my last letter to Artemidorus (as the Epicurean had reported it, misconstruing it, I suppose, in his passion) had caused Philemon to think that I was already a Christian in heart. But, concerning Eucharis and emancipation, not one word.
After waiting a long while to see whether he would be the first to speak, I reminded him of my request. He replied that he had a good will, yea and a sincere affection for me, and that he fully intended to emancipate me; but he did not think it fit that I should take to wife the daughter of a rhetorician and declaimer such as Molon, one who was by pursuit, as well as by disposition and nature, devoted to the worship of false gods. He had therefore arranged for me a marriage with the daughter of a very worthy citizen, Pheidippides the wool-seller, who, though not as yet one of the brethren, was most favorably inclined towards them, and who was quite willing to give me Prepousa to be my wife, if Philemon would emancipate me and give me a sufficient estate; and this, said he, I shall willingly do.
I was speechless with anger. But Philemon supposed my silence to be caused by excess of gratitude unable to find vent in speech. So looking affectionately on me he said there was no need of thanks, for that he was willing to do much more than this rather than suffer my soul to be ensnared at Athens. Then, in the same tone of authority in which he had spoken throughout (unusual in him and to me most unexpected and distasteful) he said that I was wearied with travel and had need of rest; wherefore he desired that I should consider myself excused from my attendance and retire to my chamber. When I went forth from his presence, a great gulf seemed to divide me from Eucharis, and from freedom, and from all hopes of a happy future. As to the religion of the Christians I was no longer drawn to it even so much as before. Had I not in former time restrained Philemon from joining himself to it? Had he not in those days acknowledged that my understanding was superior to his, deferring readily to my advice? And now was I to confess myself in the wrong? Was I, slave-like, to bow to one inferior to me in mind, because he chanced to be the master of my body? How could I meet Artemidorus or Epictetus after so great a disgrace? On the morrow, therefore, when I attended Philemon in the library and he asked me what I thought of his proposals, adding that he trusted I should soon be willing to receive baptism, I with difficulty restrained myself so far as to answer merely that at present I was unwilling, and that in any case I did not wish to marry Prepousa. He was silent for a while and evidently displeased. Then he exclaimed, “If only Paulus were in Asia at this time, my hopes of thee would be speedily fulfilled.” But as I had been often present willingly at the Christian meetings in Antioch, he said that I could make no objection to be present at the meetings of the brethren in his house where I should receive instruction which, he hoped, would soon induce me to be baptized. About manumission as before, not a word; but I perceived that it was hopeless to ask for it.
That same day I was summoned to attend one of the meetings of the brethren, at which were present all the slaves of Philemon, and not a few belonging to other citizens, and many freedmen also, and some that were free-born; but these, few, and for the most part Jews, and not men of any breeding or education. And I, being wilful at that time, and contemptuous of others, and given to think far too highly of myself, looked down upon these unlearned brethren, and stopped my ears against the truth and hardened my heart, scoffing within myself at their faults of speech and solecisms, and at the barbarous dialect of their Greek; and besides, to speak the truth, the discourses of Archippus, the son of Philemon, were too much upon the prophets and too little upon him to whom the prophets bear witness. So they moved me no more than the discourses of Lucius at Antioch, or even less. Yet once when Tatias—the man whom Philippus had raised from the dead—stood up and testified how all things had become new for him since he had believed in the Lord, and how darkness had passed away and all was full of light and joy and peace, and how the Lord Jesus was a friend that never failed in the hour of need: then for the first time, spite of myself, my heart was touched and I seemed ready to stretch out my hands to the Saviour; but at that instant methought I saw Philemon watching me narrowly to see whether I was moved by the discourse, and thereon my heart rebelled again and I could think of nothing but the great gulf which my master placed between me and Eucharis. Thus was my heart still hardened against the truth.
Being in this condition of mind, I found my new life full of dullness and melancholy. Each day passed like the day before, and prepared for a morrow that should be still the same. The images of the gods had been removed from the hall and from the court-yard; no pictures, no songs, no garlands, no feasts, nor meetings of friends; our old acquaintance seemed to have disowned us, and there were no longer any occasions for discourse on arts, or letters, or philosophy. Even the library had been despoiled of many of the best and choicest books; the busts of most of the great poets and authors had been removed; and Philemon employed me during many hours of the day in transcribing, no longer Euripides or Menander, but the Greek translations of the books of the Jewish prophets. The only diversity in the circle of our daily life was that on certain days the household met for worship; but if I profited little from the first day of meeting, I gained even less from those that followed; for then a certain Pistus, a Paphlagonian slave, took a great part in the prayers and discourses, especially when Archippus was absent, and one might as well have hoped to gather grapes from brambles as good from the words of Pistus. If such was our life at home, it was vain to look for change in life abroad. For I was no longer permitted to go to any public spectacle; and the society of every friend and acquaintance for whom I had any affection was proscribed. In this solitude and dejection I looked for counsel, but could find none. To Artemidorus, being so near a neighbor, I durst not resort, for fear lest Philemon should be informed that I had disobeyed his prohibition, but I resolved that I would use the first occasion to go to Hierapolis that I might there ask the advice of the young Epictetus.