Arius the Libyan: A Romance of the Primitive Church

by Nathan C. Kouns

Then it seemed apparent enough that these Egyptians had such an awful terror of death, and the girl had been so carefully guarded against all knowledge thereof, that she could scarcely realize what thing was meant thereby; for the Egyptians said nothing of "death," but only, "He hath gone hence," or "He is the Hesiri justified."

"He is dead, poor child!" moaned the mother, "swallowed up forever by the cruel, unrelenting sea! Thou wilt see his face, and hear his voice, and spring to meet his fond caress no more," she wailed--"no more!"

"Is he, then, the Hesiri justified?" she asked, a nameless wonder and terror taking hold upon her soul.

"Oh, thou wilt break all my heart!" she answered. "He hath died without a sarcophagus and the mummy-cloth. How shall he, then, dare to meet the dreadful Ma-t in the dark hall wherein she sitteth as the Two Truths, judge of all the dead?"

Then the full desolation of her father's awful fate, and of her own mighty loss, for the first time swept her young heart with terrible distinctness, and, sinking down beside her mother, the girl blended her broken-hearted wailings with the woman's bitter cries.

"Leave them together," said Arete, and she and old Thopt quietly withdrew. And she informed Ammonius of the sorrowful condition of their guests, and, with her dark eyes full of sympathetic tears, she said, "It is a harrowing grief, and I was so young when I became a Christian, and view death so differently from them, that I know not how to offer consolation for such sorrow."

"Thou shalt leave them alone for the present," answered Ammonius. "The Egyptians have no consolation except those which their erroneous faith buildeth upon the sarcophagus and the mummy-rites--all external consolations--of which, in such a case as this, they are deprived. Let them alone. Perhaps the Lord will show us some way to aid them, or their violent grief will wear out itself in lamentations. All thou canst do is but to wait and hope."

The long night passed wearily away. Arete and old Thopt divided the watches thereof between them, as they had done ever since Hatasa came to Baucalis, to see that she wanted no attention which kindness could supply; but neither of them knew how to utter soothing words unto a grief that seemed so hopeless; for the religion of Egypt contained no word of comfort for such grief, and the beautiful idolaters were ignorant of that of Jesus. All that mother and daughter knew of religious faith kept forcing back upon their broken hearts the dreadful conviction that the soul's condition after death depended upon the building of a sarcophagus and the preparation of the mummy, in accordance with the rites prescribed in "The Book of the Dead"; and in such a case as this no mummy-rites could be paid unless the corpse could be recovered; and, although the sarcophagus might be builded, they did not know but that the father and husband whom they loved might be judged by the awful goddess Ma-t before this work could be completed; and none of the exceptions made by their religion in favor of those who fell in battle for the rulers of Egypt, or who perished by shipwreck, applied to the case of Amosis, for he had lost his life in a private quarrel after the shipwreck had happened. Their hopeless sorrow was pitiful, indeed; but the young girl fell back upon a final truth when she kept repeating to her mother, over and over again, her own convictions in such words as these: "Thou knowest that he was a good and upright man, doing only what he did believe to be right and just, and surely the greatest God of all, by whatever name he may be known, will be most merciful to him without a sarcophagus or the mummy-rites." And so the young idolater, not knowing the law, but doing by nature the things which are written in the law, became a law unto herself, and the unknown God, whom she did ignorantly worship to that extent which was commensurate with her faith, revealed himself unto her; and even from this unreasoning hope they both drew something of comfort. And during the night Theckla informed her mother of her visit to the old eremite Am-nem-hat, and of his having been priest at Thebes and high-priest at Ombos; and how ancient, wise, and good he seemed to be; and that he had promised to come to the cottage on the following day, and expressed the hope that out of his vast stores of wisdom he might be able to bring forth some truth that would yield them surer consolation; and this also somewhat comforted that bitterly smitten pair.

And early the next morning Arius went to the abode of Am-nem-hat, leading the she-ass on which his mother was accustomed to ride, and, having got the ancient comfortably seated upon the jennet, he led her down the mountain and unto the cottage of Baucalis safely, where all were awaiting the arrival of the priest to whose visit Hatasa looked forward with vague but earnest hope. And, when the old man had come, Ammonius, with great respect and tenderness, assisted him to dismount, and led him unto the house. And, having most kindly received him, they told him of the sorrowful woman, and how anxiously she had anticipated his coming, and he said, "Let me go unto her at once."

And, when he had entered her chamber, he stood in the middle of the floor, and, with his raised and extended arms crossed at the wrists in likeness of a cross (for the cross is ages older than Jesus), he looked upon Hatasa, saying: "Whatever God is greater than Ra, whatever God is wiser than Ptah, and whatever God is more merciful than Hesiri-Hes, and more just than Ma-t, by whatsoever name the great God of all ought to be known among men, I invoke him to bless and comfort thee, O daughter of affliction. May that truest and highest God lift up the light of his face upon thee and give thee peace!"