‘Questi è colui, che giacque sopra ‘l petto
Del nostro Pellicano; e questi fue
Di su la croce al grande ufficio eletto.’
Dante, Paradiso, xxv. 112-114.
The slave Philetus came to the house of Aliturus on the next Sunday evening, and told him that the Christians now knew themselves to be menaced by imminent peril. They had consequently changed their place of meeting to another sand-pit near the Appian road, where they would be assembled in unusual numbers, expecting the presence of John, one of the twelve companions of Jesus whom they called Apostles. Aliturus, seeing the character of the man, who was one of those who are ever ready to sell their souls for gain, said as little to him as possible; but while he donned his Ephesian disguise he determined to do his utmost to warn the Christians secretly of the toils which, before he knew their true character, he himself had designed to spread for them.
The worship of the congregation resembled that on the previous First-day evening, except that the impression of solemn expectation was even more thrilling and intense. Aliturus was at a distance from the Apostle, whom his fellow-Christians surrounded with a reverence akin to awe, and whose bearing, though full of love and humility, was yet more full of natural dignity than Aliturus had ever observed in Consul or Emperor. During the day the Apostle had walked through the areas of encumbered ruin and blackened waste, which in ten regions of the city were all that was left of Rome. He had walked along the lines of temporary huts in the Campus Martius, and heard the wail of men and women who refused to be comforted for the loss of all. He had stood behind the base of a half-calcined pillar on the Aventine when Nero had been carried past him in an open litter of silver, in which he lolled on purple cushions. He was discinctured and clad in a light Coan synthesis, looking the picture of cruel and dissolute effeminacy. A young Greek slave shared his litter, and some of his worst associates laughed and jested by his side. The sight of the Antichrist had stirred the heart of John to uttermost indignation, and as he now rose in the assembly, the mystic golden petalon of priesthood upon his forehead flashing under the light of the lamps in the far recess of the sand-pit, his whole figure seemed to burn and dilate with inspired passion. He spoke at times with something of the holy frenzy of a Hebrew prophet, in language purposely couched in Eastern metaphors. To those who were unfamiliar with the style of Jewish Apocalypses, much of what he said might have seemed wholly unintelligible; but most of those who heard him had a clue to his utterances, either from their Jewish birth or from familiarity with sacred books of the Hebrews. Among these was Aliturus. Knowing the high authority of the speaker, the whole assembly listened with beating hearts to the tones of a voice which throbbed with fire and life, and sometimes rose to awful power.
In imagery afterwards embodied in his Apocalypse he spoke of a wild beast, rising out of the sea with a name of blasphemy on his forehead. And men worshipped the beast, and said, ‘Who is like the wild beast?’ and ‘Who can fight against him?’ Those who had heard of Nero in his disguise at the infamous banquet on the Lake of Agrippa knew that by the wild beast he meant the Emperor, and by the sea the sea of nations, and by the name of blasphemy the divine title Augustus, and by his superhuman exaltation the adoring flattery of his votaries. He described the misery of the people as of men gnawing their tongues for pain; and he spoke of a war of the wild beast against the saints, and of blood rolling in a great river; and of the vengeance which should follow, and of the vain rage of the nations against Him which is, and was, and is to come.
His voice ceased. He sat down, and an awful hush fell over the listeners. And then the whole assembly knelt down as with one great sob, and Aliturus sobbed with them. Pitying their emotion, the Beloved arose once more, and said: ‘Nay, brethren, you must not return thus with broken hearts to your homes. It is given unto me to foresee that ye must resist unto blood. Many of you must be tortured, many slain. At this moment there is a traitor among you, and it is no longer possible to escape. And there is another, not a traitor, but who meant to be an open enemy.’ The speaker paused, and the heart of Aliturus became chill as a stone within him. ‘But,’ continued the Apostle, ‘the grace of God hath called this one to repentance, and he shall be saved, though through much tribulation. And now, my children, give your customary gifts to God and to the suffering ones, for many are now in depths of affliction, and there are not a few of you whose children shall be fatherless and their wives widows, who must be the care of the Church hereafter. But I say to you all, as our Lord said the night that He was betrayed, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” And as my last words, take this His new commandment: “Little children, love one another.”’
He bade them sing a hymn to calm their troubled souls, and they sang:—
‘Curb for the stubborn steed,