'
'And would, perchance, had not your spleen overcome your reason.
Why, that is the case, O Basil, of all but every man who this day
calls himself a Roman citizen. Therefore is it that Italy lies under
the wrath of the Most High. Therefore is it that Rome has fallen,
and that the breath of pestilence, the sword of the destroyer, yea,
earthquake and flood and famine, desolate the land. Yet you here
find little time, my son, to meditate the laws of God, being so
busied for the welfare of men. Methinks your story has aimed a
little wide.'
Basil bent low before this gentle irony, which softened his heart.
The abbot mused a moment, gazing upon the golden cross.
'In the days of old,' he continued, 'Romans knew how to subdue their
own desires to the good of their country. He who, in self-seeking,
wronged the State, was cast forth from its bosom. Therefore was it
that Rome grew mighty, the Omnipotent fostering her for ends which
the fulness of time should disclose. Such virtue had our ancestors,
even though they worshipped darkly at the altars of daemons. But
from that pride they fell, for their hearts were hardened; and, at
length, when heathendom had wellnigh destroyed the principle whereby
they waxed, God revealed Himself unto His chosen, that ancient
virtue and new faith might restore the world.
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