rcharged
breasts. The last lily reflections had died on the cypresses, and the
garden began to be silver-like from the crescent of the moon. After a
while Vinicius said,

"I know. Barely had I entered here, barely had I kissed thy dear hands,
when I read in thy eyes the question whether I had received the divine
doctrine to which thou art attached, and whether I was baptized. No, I
am not baptized yet; but knowest thou, my flower, why? Paul said to me:
'I have convinced thee that God came into the world and gave Himself to
be crucified for its salvation; but let Peter wash thee in the fountain
of grace, he who first stretched his hands over thee and blessed thee.'
And I, my dearest, wish thee to witness my baptism, and I wish Pomponia
to be my godmother. This is why I am not baptized yet, though I believe
in the Saviour and in his teaching. Paul has convinced me, has converted
me; and could it be otherwise? How was I not to believe that Christ came
into the world, since he, who was His disciple, says so, and Paul, to
whom He appeared? How was I not to believe that He was God, since He
rose from the dead? Others saw Him in the city and on the lake and on
the mountain; people saw Him whose lips have not known a lie. I began
to believe this the first time I heard Peter in Ostrianum, for I said to
myself even then: In the whole world any other man might lie rather than
this one who says, 'I saw.' But I feared thy religion. It seemed to
me that thy religion would take thee from me. I thought that there was
neither wisdom nor beauty nor happiness in it. But to-day, when I know
it, what kind of man should I be were I not to wish truth to rule the
world instead of falsehood, love instead of hatred, virtue instead
of crime, faithfulness instead of unfaithfulness, mercy instead of
vengeance? What sort of man would he be who would not choose and wish
the same? But your religion teaches this. Others desire justice also;
but thy religion is the only one which makes man's heart just, and
besides makes it pure, like thine and Pomponia's, makes it faithful,
like thine and Pomponia's. I should be blind were I not to see this. But
if in addition Christ God has promised eternal life, and has promised
happiness as immeasurable as the all-might of God can give, what more
can one wish? Were I to ask Seneca why he enjoins virtue, if wickedness
brings more happiness, he would not be able to say anything sensible.
But I know now that I ought to