‘Yes,’ said Julius. ‘All that would be excellent if life were possible under such conditions, but one cannot live so. You deceive yourselves. You condemn our laws, our institutions, and our armies. You do not recognize the protection we afford. If it were not for the Roman legions could you live at peace? You profit by the protection of the State without acknowledging it. Some of your people, as you told me yourself, have even defended themselves. You do not recognize the right of private property, but you make use of it. Our people have it and give to you. You yourself do not give away your grapes, but sell them and buy other things. It is all a deception! If you did what you say that would be all right, but as it is you deceive yourselves and others!’
He spoke heatedly and said all that he had in his mind. Pamphilius waited in silence, and when Julius had finished, he said:
‘You are wrong in thinking that we avail ourselves of your protection without acknowledging it. Our welfare consists in not requiring defence, and this no one can take from us. Even if material things which in your eyes constitute property pass through our hands, we do not regard them as our own, and we give them to anyone who needs them for their sustenance. We sell the grapes to those who wish to buy them, not for the sake of personal gain, but solely to acquire necessities for those who need them. If someone wished to take those grapes from us we should give them up without resistance. For the same reason we are not afraid of an incursion of the barbarians. If they began to take from us the product of our toil we should let them have it, and if they demanded that we should work for them, we should also do that gladly; and they would not merely have no reason to kill or ill-treat us, but it would conflict with their own interests to do so. They would soon understand and learn to love us, and we should have less to suffer from them than from the civilized people who now surround us and persecute us.
‘You say that the things necessary for existence can only be produced under a system of private property. But consider who really produces the necessaries of life. To whose labour do we owe all these riches of which you are so proud? Were they produced by those who issued orders to their slaves and workmen without themselves moving a finger, and who now possess all the property; or were they produced by the poor slaves who carried out their masters’ orders for their daily bread, and who now possess no property and have barely enough to supply their daily needs? And do you suppose that these slaves, who expend all their strength in executing orders often quite incomprehensible to them, would not work for themselves and for those they love and care for if they were allowed to do so – that is to say, if they might work for aims they clearly understood and approved of?
‘You accuse us of not completely achieving what we strive for, and for taking advantage of violence and property even while we do not recognize them. If we are cheats, it is no use talking to us and we are worthy neither of anger nor of exposure, but only of contempt. And we willingly accept your contempt, for one of our precepts is the recognition of our insignificance. But if we sincerely strive towards what we profess, then your accusation of fraud is unjust. If we strive, as I and my brethren do, to fulfil our Master’s law and to live without violence and without private property – which is the result of violence – we do so not for external ends, riches or honours – we account these as nothing – but for something else. We seek happiness just as you do, only we have a different conception of what it is. You believe that happiness is to be found in wealth and honours, but we believe it is found in something else. Our belief shows us that happiness lies not in violence, but in submissiveness; not in wealth, but in giving everything up. And we, like plants striving towards the light, cannot help but press forward in the direction of our happiness. We do not accomplish all that we desire for our own welfare. That is true. But can it be otherwise? You strive to have the most beautiful wife and the largest fortune. But have you, or has anyone else, ever attained them? If an archer does not hit the mark will he cease to aim at it because he often fails? So it is with us. Our happiness, according to Christ’s teaching, lies in love. We seek our happiness, but attain it far from fully and each in his own way.’
‘Yes, but why do you disbelieve all human wisdom? Why have you turned away from it? Why do you believe only in your crucified Master? Your slavish submission to him – that is what repels me.’
‘There again you are mistaken, and so is anyone who thinks that we hold our faith because we were bidden to do so by the man in whom we believe. On the contrary, those who with their whole soul seek a knowledge of the truth and communion with the Father – all those who seek for the good – involuntarily come to the path which Christ followed, and so cannot but see him before them, and follow him! All who love God will meet on that path, and you will, too! Our Master is the son of God and a mediator between God and men, not because someone has said so and we blindly believe it, but because all who seek God find His son before them on the path, and involuntarily come to understand, to see, and to know God, only through him.’
Julius did not reply, and they sat in silence for a long time. ‘Are you happy?’ he asked.
‘I wish for nothing better. More than that, I generally experience a feeling of perplexity and am conscious of a kind of injustice that I am so tremendously happy,’ said Pamphilius with a smile.
‘Yes,’ said Julius, ‘perhaps I should be happier if I had not met that stranger and had come to you.’
‘If you think so, what keeps you back?’
‘How about my wife?’
‘You say that she is inclined towards Christianity – so she might come with you.’
‘Yes, but we have already begun a different kind of life. How can we break it up? As it has been begun we must live it out,’ said Julius, picturing to himself the dissatisfaction of his father, his mother, his friends, and above all the effort that would have to be made to effect the change.