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Updated: June 4, 2025
How gloriously did he shoot over the hills! and then anon he rested awhile on the snowy summit of Olympus, as in some luminous shrine, gladdening the Phrygian plain. Fair, bright-haired god! thou art my worship, if Callista worships aught: but somehow I worship nothing now. I am weary.” “Well,” said her brother in a soothing tone, “it is a change.
We will hope that the reader, as well as Agellius, is attracted by the word Callista, and wishes to know something about her fate; nay, perhaps finds fault with us as having suffered him so long to content himself with the chance and second-hand information which Jucundus or Juba has supplied. If we have been wanting in due consideration for him, we now trust to make up for it.
“No one shall touch him, craven as he is,” answered Juba. “I despise him, but let him alone.” “Don’t come across me,” said Gurta, sullenly; “I’ll have my way. Why, you know I could smite you to the dust, as well as him, if I chose.” “But you have not asked me about Callista,” answered Juba. “It is really a capital joke, but she has got into prison for certain, for being a Christian.
It is at the back of the city, where the rock is steep; and it looks out upon the plain and the mountain range to the north. Its inmates, Aristo and Callista, are engaged in their ordinary work of moulding or carving, painting or gilding the various articles which the temples or the private shrines of the established religion required.
Of greater interest to the general reader are The Idea of a University, discourses delivered at Dublin, and his two works of fiction, Loss and Gain, treating of a man's conversion to Catholicism, and Callista, which is, in his own words, "an attempt to express the feelings and mutual relations of Christians and heathens in the middle of the third century."
When a collision arose on such matters between Agellius and his friends, Callista kept silence; but Aristo was not slow to express his wonder that the young Christian should think customs or practices wrong which, in his view of the matter, were as unblamable and natural as eating, drinking, or sleeping.
He was not a cruel man: even the “hoary-headed Fabian,” or Cyprian, or others whom he so roundly abused, would have found, when it came to the point, that his bluster was his worst weapon against them; at any rate he had enough of the “milk of human kindness” to feel considerable distress about that idiotic Callista. Yet what could he do?
“She who is so tender of Christians,” answered the priest, “must herself have some sparks of the Christian flame in her own breast.” Callista sat down half unconsciously upon the bench or stool near the door; but she at once suddenly started up again, and said, “Away, fly! perhaps they are coming; where is he?”
He did not, however, at all forget Juba’s hint, and was careful not to overdo the rack-and-gridiron dodge, if we may so designate it; yet he thought just a flavour or a thought of the inconveniences which the profession of Christianity involved might be a salutary reflection in the midst of the persuasives which the voice and eyes of Callista would kindle in his heart.
It is not often, we suppose, that such deep offence is given to a lady by the sort of admiration of which Agellius had been guilty in the case of Callista; however, startled as he might be, and startled and stung he was, there was too much earnestness in her distress, too much of truth in her representations, too much which came home to his heart and conscience, to allow of his being affronted or irritated.
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