Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-10-12

winds the riches that his father had spent the
/ labor OF a lifetime in slowly accommodating: he
! had become a disagreeaole and DANGEROUS rival
! to his iIionds. Was it so strange, then
! they al longed for his death, as he supposed
! they did?
Prominent among the figures that rose up be-
| fore his mind S eye during this cal of past
! years, was Pamphi.ius cordially welcoming him
! to the Christian community and bidding him
! leave everything AMI cast in his lot with them.
/ And the i'm pulse to do grew str ng upon him.
/ But is my position then, utterly HOPELESS
he asked him elf. and as h. again conjured up he
| events Of recent years, his heart sank within
! him at lhe thought that no one loved him more.
| Father, mother, friends could not possibly
| cherish auy affection for him: indeed they
| could not do otherwise than desire his death.
! But did he himself love anyone? He felt that he
| was attached to none of his friends. They
] were, all of them. his rivals and had not throb
/ Of ply for him now that his misfortunes were
! thick upon him. And his father? He asked
himself. And looking into his heart to find he
answer there, was appalled, at what he saw. Not
| only did he not love his father but he actually
hated him for the restriction, the insults he had
! put upon him: Yes. hate was the word; he
| hated him. and more than that, he perceived
| clearly that to his own happiness his fathers
death was abs lutely Indispensable.
yes this is so. And suppose knew that no
one would ever see or hear of it, how would 1
act II had it in my power to take his life at a
single blow and free myself from his tyranny
And Julius distinctly replied to himself: II
would Kill him, - and he was Mortified that it
was 50. land my mother he asked. Yes
pity but do not love her l do not a
l i
help. Why an wild beast! 4 wild beast at
bay, bounded down; and the sole difference be-
tween myself and the beast is that | can, il so
viii leave TINS deceltiul, wicked life, can do
what the wild beast cannot-ki!l myself. hate
ny father, love no one-neither mother nor
friends. Perhaps Pemphilious aione.''
And he again reverted to his friend; calling to
mind their last meeting, their conversation and
the words Of Christ cited by Pampbiius: "Co n G
and will give You rest Can that be truce
he asked himself. He began TO stir up his re-
collections of the discussion with Pamphilius,
and his memory dwelt with prediction on the
serene. fearless and Joyful countenance OF his
friend, and he was filed with desire to see and
hear him again, and above all to believe What
man in search of happiness l sought for it
In luxury ana lust, but failed to find it there.
And those who live as l have tried will fail n
like maner. They are all malicious and are all
Of them suffering. On the other hand, there is
one man who is always JOYFUL, because he is not
in search f anything. He tells me that there
that l, for one, can, If I be so minded, on con-
dltion that carry out the precepts given by his
Master. Now what if all this be be true?''
True or not true, tn Are's an attraction about
it which l cannot Withstand | shall CO."
And repeating this to himself Julius passed
out Of the shady grove and, determined never
again to return home. wend ID his way to the
village in which the Christians lived.
CHAPTER III.
Julius walked on brskly his spirits rising in
proportion as he drew nearer the villay re AMI the
colors grew more distinct and life like tine pic
turel he set before his mind OF the life led by
the Christians.
just as the sun was sinking beneath the hori-
zon and he was about to take short rest, he met
man by the wayside, reposing and taking his
evening meal.
H was person OF middle age and to Judge
by externals, of considerable INTEL ectuaI cul-
ture. He was seated, and leisurely eating
olives and bread. AS soon he Julius he
said with smile: GOOD evening, Young man.
you have still long journey before you. Be
seated and rest yourself awhile Julius
thanked him aud sat down beside him.
whittier bound, may askG'' he queried.
Il am going to the Christians.'' replied
julius, and i'll ANSWER to fur her ques-
tions narrated his whole life ami the mental
process which had resulted in this sudden
luton.
The stranger listened attentively and in
silence, broken rarely by such questions as
seemed necessary to clear up some obscure
opinion, the knowledge of which had been taken
foI granted. Comment or opinion he offered
none. When at lenrth Julius brought his story
to an end, he gathered up the food that re-
manned over after his meal done. adjusted
his garments AMI said: "Young man, do not
carry out your design; you have wandered away
from the direct road. know life; YOU do not.
Listen shall analySe the principal lts OF your
past history and your reflections on them,
and after you have had them presented to YOU in
the form which they have assumed in my mind
you can take any course that comments itself to
you as wise. You are young, wealthy, hand
some, strong-your heart is seething whir-
pool OF raging passions. You now yearn for
quiet retreat in which those passions shall not
disturb you, and you shall be spared the suffer-
iugs produced by their effects; and YOU are will
ing to believe that you Will find such a haven
among the Christians. Now there is no such
port OF safety, dear young friend. there or else
where; because that which aCtstes and tor
ments you is not located in Cilicia CT Rome but
has It's abode within yourself. in he quiet of
seques cred village those same passions will
rage within you and convulse you-only a hun
dredfold more violently than before. The fraud
or mistake of the Christians Il have no mind to
in no raft
ognize human nature. The only persons really
capable of putting Christian teachings in prac-
tice are old men in whom the snow and frost of
age have quenched the last embers of human
ssion. man IN the flower OF his years and
strength, especially young man like yourself,
who has not yet tasted the fruits of
life. and does not even know his
own mind, cannot submit to their law
because that law is foun led not on human ma
founder. II you become one of them YOU will
continue TO suffer from he same causes as be-
fore, only to a much grealer extent. Now. your
passions lure you out OF the right ROAD into
devious paths and byTavs; but having once
gone astray, you have it in your power to re-
trace your steps and set yourself right; and You
enjoy, besides. the satisfaction of passions set
free-i. e. the JOY OF life But living as a Chris
tian and curbing your passions, so to say. by
force, You will still be able to go astray only
more frequently and irremidiably than before
and YOU will endure and above the undving
torment caused by the unappeased appetite OF
of a dam and it will moisten and fructify field
meadow and refresh the beasts that are grazing
thereon; but dam it up and it will delve into the
soil and flow in n thich, muddy stream. 1t is |
even so with human passions. The teaching of
the Christ ans with the exception OF certain !
beliefs which have no wish to dwell a. present)
in so far as it affects their daily life NAV bs |
summed up az follows: They con-
denim violence, they disapprove OF wars |
and courts of Justice; they refuse to recognize |
property; they repudiate the sciences and arts |
in word, they eschew everyt hing that tends to |
make life bright and pleasant. Even this would |
be well, IL all men correspond to the descrip-
ton which they give of their teacher. But SO |
far is this from being the that it is an abso
lutte imposslbility. Men natur ajv evil |
minded and swayed by their passions. 1t is this |
constant play OF the passions and the clashing |
and struggling that results which hold !
people fast in that network OF condition |
in whsch they live. Savages know no |
restrictions, and single individual among them |
would, for the sake of Cutting his lusts ami |
evil as meekly as the Christians. II the gods |
endowed men with a sentiment of anger vim
GictivenesS, even Of malice against the mali |
cious. we may take it that they did so because |
these sentiments were necessary to the preser- |
walton of human life.
The Christians no Id that these sentiments are |
evil, and that without them, men would be hap
Ply; there would then be no murders, no erecu- |
lions. no wars. This is true, but one ght lust
as well assert that it would materially contribute
to the happiness OF men, if they were relieved |
of the necessity OF eating and drinkny!
There would, indeed, be hunger nor thirst
nor any OF the calamities they produce. But |
this superstition does not change human nature
one iota. And so il is with all he other human /
passions; indignation. malice, vindictiveness.
even sexuGl love and love of luxury, pomp and |
ire lpkyi Ea C1ar ricsf1 ~ lie