BOOK THE FOURTH
16. Chapter XVI
(continued)
There was something in this sudden burst of human affection which struck a
kindred chord in the soul of the Greek. He felt, for the first time, a
sympathy greater than mere affliction between him and his companion. He
crept nearer towards Olinthus; for the Italians, fierce in some points, were
not unnecessarily cruel in others; they spared the separate cell and the
superfluous chain, and allowed the victims of the arena the sad comfort of
such freedom and such companionship as the prison would afford.
'Yes,' continued the Christian, with holy fervor, 'the immortality of the
soul--the resurrection--the reunion of the dead--is the great principle of
our creed--the great truth a God suffered death itself to attest and
proclaim. No fabled Elysium--no poetic Orcus--but a pure and radiant
heritage of heaven itself, is the portion of the good.'
'Tell me, then, thy doctrines, and expound to me thy hopes,' said Glaucus,
earnestly.
Olinthus was not slow to obey that prayer; and there--as oftentimes in the
early ages of the Christian creed--it was in the darkness of the dungeon,
and over the approach of death, that the dawning Gospel shed its soft and
consecrating rays.
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