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Java: The Fundamentals of Objects
and Classes
An Introduction to Java Programming
David Etheridge

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 David Etheridge

Java: The Fundamentals of

Objects and Classes
– An Introduction to Java Programming

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2
Java: The Fundamentals of Objects and Classes
– An Introduction to Java Programming
© 2009 David Etheridge & Ventus Publishing ApS
ISBN 978-87-7681-475-5

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3
Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Contents

Contents
1. Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object? 6
1.1 Introduction to Objects 6
1.2 Comparison of OOP and Non-OOP 6
1.3 Object-Oriented Analysis and Design (OOA & D) 9

2. A First Java Programme: From Class Diagram to Source Code 21

2.1 Introduction 21
2.2 The Class Diagram for the Member Class 21
2.3 The Java Source Code for the Member Class 22
2.4 Using Member Objects 30
2.5 Summary 35

3. Language Basics: Some Syntax and Semantics 44

3.1 Introduction 44
3.2 Identifiers 44
3.3 Primitive Data Types 46
3.4 Variables 49
3.5 Operators 58
3.6 Summary 59

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 Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Contents

4. Methods: Invoking an Object’s Behavior 60

4.1 How do we get Data Values into a Method? 60
4.2 How do we get Data Values out of a Method? 67
4.3 Method Overloading 68
4.4 The Structure of a Typical Class Definition 70

5. Classes and Objects: Creating and Using Objects 72

5.1 Invoking an Object’s Constructor 72
5.2 Object Construction and Initialisation of an Object’s State 73
5.3 Overloading Constructors 75
5.4 Initialisation Blocks 77

6. Collecting Data I 78
6.1 An Introduction to Arrays 78

360°
6.2 Arrays as Data Structures 79
6.3 Declaring Arrays 81

.
6.4 Creating Arrays 81

thinking
6.5 Populating Arrays 82
6.6 Accessing Array Elements 87
6.7 Arguments Passed to the main Method 90

360°
thinking . 360°
thinking .
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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

1. Object-Oriented Programming: What is an

Object?

1.1 Introduction to Objects

While there is a study guide (available from Ventus) that focuses largely on objects and their
characteristics, it will be instructive to the learner (of the Java programming language) to understand how
the concept of an object is applied to their construction and use in Java applications. Therefore, Chapter
One (of this guide) introduces the concept of an object from a language-independent point of view and
examines the essential concepts associated with object-oriented programming (OOP) by briefly comparing
how OOP and non-OOP approach the representation of data and information in an application. The
chapter goes on to explain classes, objects and messages and concludes with an explanation of how a class
is described with a special diagram known as a class diagram.

1.2 Comparison of OOP and Non-OOP

Despite the wide use of OOP languages such as Java, C++ and C#, non-OOP languages continue to be
used in specific domains such as for some categories of embedded applications. In a conventional,
procedural language such as C, data is sent to a procedure for processing; this paradigm of information
processing is illustrated in Figure 1.1 below.

SQRT
4
input

output
2
Source: R. A. Clarke, BCU.

Figure 1.1 Passing data to a procedure

The figure shows that the number 4 is passed to the function (SQRT) which is ‘programmed’ to calculate
the result and output it (to the user of the procedure). In general, we can think of each procedure in an
application as ready and waiting for data items to be sent to them so that they can do whatever they are
programmed to do on behalf of the user of the application. Thus an application written in C will typically
comprise a number of procedures along with ways and means to pass data items to them.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

The way in which OOP languages process data, on the other hand, can be thought of as the inverse of the
procedural paradigm. Consider Figure 1.2 below.

press this 4
button

sqrt

return

2
Source: R. A. Clarke, BCU.

Figure 1.2 Passing a message to an object

In the figure, the data item – the number 4 – is represented by the box (with the label ‘4’ on its front face).
This representation of the number 4 can be referred to as the object of the number 4. This simple object
doesn’t merely represent the number 4, it includes a button labeled sqrt which, when pressed, produces
the result that emerges from the slot labeled return.

Whilst it is obvious that the object-oriented example is expected to produce the same result as that for the
procedural example, it is apparent that the way in which the result is produced is entirely different when
the object-oriented paradigm considered. In short, the latter approach to producing the result 2 can be
expressed as follows.

Send the following message to the object 4: “press the sqrt button”

A message is sent to the object to tell it what to do. Other messages might press other buttons associated
with the object. However for the present purposes, the object that represents the number 4 is a very simple
one in that it has only one button associated with it. The result of sending a message to the object to press
its one and only button ‘returns’ another object. Hence in Figure 1.2, the result that emerges from the
‘return’ slot - the number 2 – is an object in its own right with its own set of buttons.

Despite the apparent simplicity of the way in which the object works, the question remains: how does it
calculate the square root of itself? The answer to this question enshrines the fundamental concept
associated with objects, which is to say that objects carry their programming code around with them.
Applying this concept to the object shown in Figure 1.2, it has a button which gives access to the
programming code which calculates the square root (of the number represented by the object). This
amalgam of data and code is further illustrated by an enhanced version of the object shown in Figure
1.3 below.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

press this
4
button
3

sqrt +

return

7
Source: R. A. Clarke, BCU

Figure 1.3 The object with two buttons.

The enhanced object (representing the number 4) has two buttons: one to calculate the square root of itself
– as before - and a second button that adds a number to the object. In the figure, a message is sent to the
object to press the second button – the button labeled ‘+’ – to add the object that represents the number 3
to the object that represents the number 4. For the ‘+’ button to work, it requires a data item to be sent to it
as part of the message to the object. This is the reason why the ‘+’ button is provided with a slot into
which the object representing the number 3 is passed. The format of the message shown in the figure can
be expressed as follows.

Send a message that carries the object 3 to the object 4: “press the
+ button”

When this message is received and processed by the object, it returns an object that represents the number
7. In this case, the message has accessed the code associated with the ‘+’ button. The enhanced object can
be thought of as having two buttons, each of which is associated with its own programming code that is
available to users of the object.

Extrapolating the principal of sending messages to the object depicted in Figure 1.3 gives rise to the
notion that an object can be thought of as comprising a set of buttons that provide access to operations
which are carried out depending on the details in the messages sent to that object.

In summary:

in procedural programming languages, data is sent to a procedure;

in an object-oriented programming language, messages are sent to an object;
an object can be thought of as an amalgam of data and programming code: this is known as
encapsulation.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

Whilst the concept of encapsulation is likely to appear rather strange to learners who are new to OOP,
working with objects is a much more natural way of designing applications compared to designing them
with procedures. Objects can be constructed to represent anything in the world around us and, as such,
they can be easily re-used or modified. Given that we are surrounded by things or objects in the world
around us, it seems natural and logical that we express this in our programming paradigm.

The next section takes the fundamental concepts explored in this section and applies them to a simple
object. Before doing so, however, it is worth making the point that this section is not meant to be an
exhaustive exploration of OO concepts: a separate study guide achieves this objective. Suffice it to say
that the main purpose of this section is to explain the key concept of encapsulation.

Finally (in this section) it is also worth making the point that, in Java, data - such as the numbers discussed
above - do not have to be represented by (Java) objects. They can be, but data such as integers are
represented by primitive data types, much as in procedural languages. However representing data such as
the number 4 as an object provides an opportunity to explain encapsulation.

The next section explores a simple object, in preparation to writing a first Java programme in
Chapter Two.

1.3 Object-Oriented Analysis and Design (OOA & D)

1.3.1 What are my Objects?

As might be expected, given that the Java programming language is object-oriented, objects expressed in
Java exhibit encapsulation of data values and operations on those values. Therefore because Java is object-
oriented, elements of Java differ in their syntax compared with a procedural language such as C. Despite
this difference, there are language elements in the Java code that Java objects carry about with them – as a
consequence of encapsulation - that are common to other programming languages, whether they are
object-oriented or not. Consequently as this guide begins to explore and apply the syntax of Java, some
learners may recognize language elements in Java that are similar to their equivalents in other languages.
Language elements such as the following may be familiar, depending on the programming experience of
the learner:

declaring and initializing primitive date types;

manipulating variables;
making decisions in an if…then type of construct;
carrying out repetitions in for…next and do…while types of constructs;
passing arguments to operations (known as methods in Java);
working with arrays and other data structures;
and so forth.

In fact, much of the semantics and syntax of Java is derived from languages such as C and C++, to the
extent that learners with previous experience in non-OO or other OO languages are likely to be familiar
with much of it. The principal difference, when using an OO language such as Java to write application
logic, is that the language elements, such as those exemplified in the list above are encapsulated in an
entity known as an object.
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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

Embarking on a course in Java will require a learner who is experienced in a procedural language to make
the transition from a non-object-oriented language to an object-oriented one. Learners who have some
experience of procedural languages should not be alarmed: this transition is not as difficult as it may seem!
For the novice programmer, this guide begins with objects from the outset. In either case, once some of
the essential concepts of object-oriented programming in Java have been grasped, they can be applied to
almost any Java object. In short, the way that most objects are structured is common to them all. In other
words, we can extrapolate from a relatively small number of concepts and apply them to any Java object.

The next few sub-sections work towards the description of a simple object in a language-independent way;
actual Java code does not appear until Chapter Two. This approach is intended to make the point that
OOA & D is language-independent. When the objects associated with an application are analysed,
described and documented, including diagrammatic documentation, the analysis can be turned into any
target OO language. In this guide, of course, the outcome of analysis and design will be translated into
Java source code.

1.3.2 How do I know what my Objects are?

As has been established, object oriented analysis and design (OOA & D) models everything in the world
around us in terms of software entities called objects. For example, we could model a banking application
as comprising a number of objects including:

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

a customer object;
a current account object associated with a particular customer object;
a savings account object associated with the same customer object;
the single bank object associated with customer objects;
and so on.

Similarly for an on-line media store, analysis might show that the following objects exist:

a registered member of the Media Store: there will be many of these objects;
the Media Store itself: there will be only one of these objects;
each member’s virtual membership card;
a DVD object: there will be many of these objects;
a games object: there will be many of these objects;
a CD object: there will be many of these objects;
a book object: there will be many of these objects;
and so forth.

An application that supports the business operations of such a media store will be used throughout this
guide to illustrate how Java can be used to meet the requirements of a realistic business application and
provide examples of concepts and language elements. Throughout the guide, the author’s Media Store
application will be referred to as the guide’s ‘themed application’.

In general, the outcome of the OOA & D process for a set of business requirements results in expressing
the design as encapsulating data (attributes) and operations on these data (behavior) into objects. The
details of OOA & D methodologies are outside the scope of this guide, apart from the use of a simple
diagrammatic technique to describe objects; this chapter and will conclude with such a diagram for one of
the objects of the themed application.

Returning, for a moment, to the bank example outlined at the beginning of this sub-section, let us assume
that the current account object has an attribute called overdraftLimit and that its behaviour is used to set
this attribute to a value of £500. Similarly, let us assume that the customer object has an attribute called
name and that its behaviour is used to set the value of the attribute to “David Etheridge”. Thus an object’s
attributes (or data) and hehaviour (or operations on these data) are closely linked. This linking or bonding
of data and operations is, as we have already established, known as encapsulation.

There is a further implication of encapsulation that hasn’t been explained as yet. The nature of the bond
between data and operations is such that an object’s data values are (usually) only manipulated by using
the object’s behaviour. In other words, an object’s data values are not directly accessed; instead they are
accessed via the object’s behaviour. In short, a useful way of summarising the access to an object’s data
values is to think of an object as comprising private data values and public behaviour to manipulate these
data values.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

Another consequence of the OOA & D approach is that the implementation details of an object’s data are
hidden from other objects that wish to use the data values of the object. This means that a user object only
needs to know the behaviour that the provider object offers. Thus, we can think of the provider object’s
behaviour as a kind of a contract that the object offers to its user objects. As we will see in due course, the
behaviour that an object offers to its user objects is known as its interface. All that a user object needs to
know is what behaviour the provider object provides to manipulate its data values; user objects do not
need to know how the provider object’s behaviour is implemented. This means that implementation details
can change, without changing the provider object’s interface.

This property of objects is known as information hiding, another manifestation of encapsulation. This
means that although an object may know how to communicate with another object, via the other object’s
interface, the object does not need to know how the attributes and behaviour of the other object are
implemented: i.e. implementation details are hidden within the provider object. Consider an analogy: one
might know how to drive a car without knowing how the internal combustion engine works! Or, in the
example shown in Figure 1.3, the user object – the object for the number 3 – does not need to know how
the provider object – the object for the number 4 – implements its ‘+’ operation; all that it needs to know
is that the operation is available to the outside world – i.e. it is public - and it needs a value to be passed to
it in the message that asks the provider object to press its ‘+’ button. This means that a further outcome of
OOA & D is a model of the communication amongst objects. For example, the bank object might wish to
send a message to the current account object to alter the value of overdraftLimit.

To summarize and, perhaps, simplify the OOA & D methodology, any application domain can be
analysed and modelled in terms of the objects it comprises, where each object (in that domain) has
attributes and behaviour.

1.3.3 Classes and Objects

Just when the learner thinks that they have grasped the, perhaps new, concept of an object, along comes a
heading that introduces another new term: that of the class. The purpose of this section is to refine and
define these two terms: they operate, as it were, in tandem.

Consider a simple analogy: David and Annette Etheridge’s cat – called Jasmine - can be regarded as an
object or instance of the class Cat, where the instance name is jasmine and where the class is a template
or blueprint for all cats of the species of animal known as ‘cat’. Thus, Mother Nature uses her class Cat as
a template to create every domestic cat in existence. The distinction between a class and an instance or
object of that class is an important one: a class is the blueprint for all objects (or instances) of that class.
Similarly, Mother Nature uses her one and only Aardvark class to create all aardvarks, that is all instances
of aardvarks that walk the earth.

A single class is used to create as many instances (or objects) of

that class as are needed in an application.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

For example, referring again to the bank application, we could use the class called Customer to create or
instantiate as many customers as are needed, such that each customer object can subsequently be given
values of the attributes defined in the class.

Similarly let us assume that one of the attributes of the class called Cat is called mood and that one of its
behaviour elements is used to set the value of the attribute named mood of a particular cat. Thus we can
use the template for a cat, i.e. the class called Cat, to create an instance of the class Cat with the name
jasmine and make use of its behaviour to set the value of its attribute mood to “grumpy”. Similarly, we
can use the class Cat to create another instance of the class Cat with the instance name florence and use its
behaviour to set the value of its attribute mood to “cool”. This second instance of the class Cat has a
different value of the attribute called mood. As we will discover in due course, two (or more) objects can
have the same values of some or all of their attributes. However for the purposes of the present example,
our two cat objects (named jasmine and florence) – created from the same class - differ in the value of
their mood attribute. Thus, in terms of encapsulation, our two cat objects carry about with them the ‘code’
to express the value of their attribute named mood to be “grumpy” and “cool” respectively. Finally, it
should be noted that our two objects of the class Cat are given different instance names to distinguish one
from the other and to affirm their separate existence.

The next sub-section will analyse a simple class in order to show how its analysis is documented.

1.3.4 Analysis and Design of the Member Class

In this section, we will work with one of the classes of the themed application introduced in the previous
section. The class is given the name (known as its identifier) Member to distinguish it from other classes
in the application.

Based upon the discussion in the previous sub-section, we know that the class called Member can be used,
in some way as yet to be explained, to create objects of the class Member. Before we work with the class
called Member, let us return to our analogy. Remember that David and Annette Etheridge have a cat called
Jasmine, created from the class called Cat. Thus the class is of type Cat and the particular instance of the
class Cat is an object called jasmine (the reason for the lower case ‘j’ will be explained in a moment).
David and Annette Etheridge used to have a cat called Florence: (Florence has gone through the great cat
flap in the sky!) If both cats were alive today, David and Annette Etheridge would have two instances of
the class Cat called jasmine and florence respectively. Thus the template for the two cats jasmine and
florence is the class Cat (which has been used, by Mother Nature, to create two cats). Note that class type
names begin with a capital letter: this is a convention used by the Java developer community. Thus we
have the class Cat, not cat. Whilst class names always begin with a capital letter, instances of a class
begin with a lower case letter. Thus we have florence and jasmine, not Florence and Jasmine, as
identifiers for the two instances of the class Cat. The example that follows will further illustrate these
naming conventions.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

Returning to the class called Member, our task is to define (some of) the attributes and behaviour of the
class, so that when objects (or instances) of the class Member are created (or instantiated) we can give
values to these attributes by making use of the behaviour of the class.

For the purposes of our example, we will identify (some of) the attributes and behaviour of the class
named Member as follows.

Attributes of the Member Class

N. B. Attributes are categorized as one of a type: this can be a primitive data type or a class type as shown
in the table on the next page.

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Java: The Fundamentals of
Objects and Classes Object-Oriented Programming: What is an Object?

Attribute Identifier Type Comments

first name firstName string A string will be used to store the value of this
attribute

last name lastName string Similarly, a string is used

user name userName string

password password string

membership card card MembershipCard The type is a class, because the member’s card
is an object in its own right: note, therefore, the
capital ‘M’ in the type MembershipCard

The first column lists the properties or attributes of the class, expressed in a natural language. The second
column implies that each attributes is given a name, known as its identifier. Note the convention for
identifiers: for example, firstName, not firstname. In short, identifiers that comprise compound words
begin with a lower case letter and all subsequent words in the compound word are capitalised. The third
column gives the type of the attribute, i.e. what kind of data value it represents.

A critically important consequence of identifying types in an OOP language is that they can either be of
the primitive data type, such as integer or string and so on as in a typical procedural programming
language, or they can be a class types. For example, the list of attributes above includes one which is a
class type. The reason for this is that, intuitively, a member’s membership card is an object in its own right,
with its own attributes and behaviour. We cannot represent such a complex entity in a procedural language
by using primitive data types. Thus, the third column illustrates that OO design represents the non-
primitive data types in an application as objects of one of a type. This feature is one of the key differences
between a non-OO programming language and an OO programming language and gives that latter vastly
superior flexibility compared to the former when it comes to identifying the attributes of the complex
entities associated with an application.

Behaviour Elements of the Member Class

In order to represent a real-world instance of the class Member, we need to identify the behaviour that is
used to manipulate the values of its attributes. The syntax that is used to describe behaviour in a language-
independent way is as follows:

behaviourName( a comma-separated list of parameterName: parameterType ): returnType

where behaviourName is an arbitrary but meaningful name for the behaviour; note that it begins with a
lower case letter.

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Other documents randomly have
different content
Antonius troubled himself very little about his new inmate; he had
received him in accordance with the wishes of Severus, and he was
to take him to the palace at a convenient season, where he was to
hold some office about the Emperor’s person, when duly qualified.
In this life, marked out for him by his father, Casca would have been
miserable, had it not been for his studies and for the interest which
his visits to the Cæmeteria awakened in him. Little by little the boy
withdrew himself from the scenes of license and indulgence which
formed the atmosphere of the villa. He was, like one who had gone
before him, almost persuaded to be a Christian, and yet he held
back. He was afraid to profess what he did not really feel, and when
he heard of many who recanted at the last moment to avoid the
torture or the fire, he would argue with himself that it was better to
be assured of his own faith before he openly professed what in the
hour of trial he might be tempted to recant.
He was not sure of his own heart. Sometimes he was lost in a maze
of doubt and uncertainty; at others he resigned himself to the calm
philosophy of the schools, which looked down from a high vantage-
ground on the old and young faith alike, and taught that the life of
man on earth, fleeting though it was, was all. No beyond, and
therefore, no anxiety as to the future—no cold shadow of dark fear.
“Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die,” was the watchword of
thousands in Rome in those days.
Then there were moments when, after careful study of the
manuscript which had been lent to him, he would be strangely
moved, and St. Paul’s eloquent description of all those who had died
in the faith would fasten upon his imagination. Was not the same
spirit of endurance abroad at that very time? Some two hundred and
seventy years had gone by since St. Paul had made up that grand
roll of names of those who esteemed the reproach of Christ greater
riches than any treasure, and there was the same tale of suffering
being told for the faith of which these men and women were the
valiant defenders. They had received the promise, which promise
reached beyond death to the life eternal. “If only,” Casca thought,
“he could know that it was true, would he not have strength given
him to confess Christ openly.” Then the natural disposition of the boy
asserted itself, and he would turn back to the philosophy of the
schools, and try to rest upon the hope rather than the belief that
there was no beyond.
Like many since that time, Casca could not surrender his heart, and,
lost in the mists of human reasoning, he could not become a little
child that he might be wise.
Casca’s natural sweetness of disposition won him friends in that
large and pleasure-seeking household, and the taunts and scoffs
that he had at first to endure, for his pure living and dislike of over-
indulgence and luxury, ceased. It was universally allowed that Casca,
the son of Severus, must be left to go on his own way undisturbed,
and as he never offended any one, it was by common consent
conceded that no one should offend him.
 CHAPTER XI.
JUNE, 313—THE FESTIVAL OF VESTA.

Years passed swiftly by, in the fourth century as in the nineteenth!

They brought with them as they came many changes, they bore
away with them many hopes, and left behind the memory of many
sorrows, and the soft radiance of many vanished joys!
The persecution of the Christians had in great measure ceased, and,
with the abdication of Diocletian, the edicts for their arrest and
slaughter had been revoked.
It was comparatively a time of peace, and the conflict between the
old and the new faiths seemed for a season at rest.
Constantius Chlorus had put a stop to the persecution of the
Christians in Britain in the year after Alban had suffered, and now, in
the year 313, Constantine was Emperor, and well known to favour
the religion of Christ.
But if the old faiths were shaken to their very foundations, every
effort was made to put on an appearance of increased enthusiasm at
public ceremonials, and to load the altars of the gods and goddesses
with the choicest offerings and the most costly sacrifices.
The great festival in honour of Vesta was to be celebrated this year
with excessive pomp and circumstance. The preparations were
organised on a very large scale, and enormous offerings were
continually pouring in to the vestals’ house and the temple, some
time before the great day, which fell on the ninth of June.
The Vestal Maxima, Terentia Rufilla, was overwhelmed with all the
arrangements which devolved upon her, and on the evening of the
seventh of June was lying on a couch in her own chamber, weary
and sad. A tall and most beautiful maiden was standing at a marble
slab or table covered with evergreens and flowers, which she was
weaving into wreaths and emblems with her long slender fingers.
“Come and rest, Hyacintha,” Terentia said; “come and sit near me, I
have much to say. To-morrow is the day of your first ministration in
the temple, and you will henceforth be a priestess, fully qualified for
the service of the goddess. Surely, never had the goddess a more
beautiful and more true-hearted servant.”
“Dearest lady,” Hyacintha said, “I feel but little worthy to take the
honour upon me; but my heart rejoices to have the longing of years
fulfilled.”
“And thou hast no sad misgivings, dear child—no longings for the
ordinary lot of woman to trouble thee; the home of the matron, the
prattle of children’s voices, the maternal joy and pride which we
vestals can never know.”
Hyacintha’s pure untroubled face was raised to that of her friend as
she answered—
“Nay, I have no such longings; I am contented, nay, thankful, to be
free from all those cares which harass the life of many a woman.”
“Thou art very young yet, dear child, though by special permission
thy ten years’ probation has been shortened. Although in the tenth
year of thy discipleship, it was not till the time of Pomona that first
thou camest hither. How my heart went out to thee then, dear child,
and how much we have been to each other since!”
“Yes,” Hyacintha said, “I have known great happiness with thee, and
my great ambition is, perhaps, too great to tell even to thy ear. It is
a high aim indeed.”
Terentia smiled sadly as she laid her hand upon the beautiful rings of
clustering gold which shadowed Hyacintha’s brow.
“Thy ambition,” she repeated. “Thy high aim—what is it?”
“I was wandering last evening in the atrium,” Hyacintha said, “and
gazing, as I have done since I was quite a child, at the figures of the
past Vestals which stand there. I have often spoken to them. I feel
almost as if I knew them all and their histories, as you have told
them. I do know Flavia Publicia who has all the praises, and I cannot
wonder, so gracious, so beautiful is her face. But I love almost best
the face of Vibidia, who, as you have told me, so generously
protected poor Messalina. That is a grand deed of any one to be
remembered—it is so beautiful, dearest lady, to protect the weak.”
“Is that thy ambition, then, my sweet one?”
“Yes, that is part of my ambition; but the whole is to be a Vestal
Maxima. Oh! do not think me foolish, dearest lady, but I should love
to have my statue carved in marble, and stand for ever in our noble
hall, and for those who pass to read my name, ‘Hyacintha Severa.’ Is
it too much to think of?”
“Dear child!” Terentia said, “when I called you to rest by me, the
thought was in my mind which you have put into words.
“To-morrow, as you know, you will take up your full duties in the
temple. The sculptor is to unveil my likeness in the pure marble in
which it was wrought. It will not be placed with my noble
predecessors till I resign my high office or die while holding it. Then
it will be placed in either case in the atrium, and my name will be
followed by whatsoever it may please the priest and the emperor to
inscribe on the pedestal. But I shall leave on record that it is my will
that you should be elected in my room, and that day may not be far
off.”
Hyacintha’s eyes sought those of Terentia anxiously. The joy of her
announcement was tempered with sorrow.
“You must not leave us yet,” she said; “you must not speak of it. And
I am young and untried, and I fear——”
“What dost thou fear, dear child?”
“That many would consider others should take place before me.”
“The future is hidden,” said Terentia. “I may live for years, instead of
months; we will not speak more of this now. Hast thou any longing
beside?”
“Nay; except to hear of those I best love: Casca my brother, and my
faithful Ebba.”
“They are both converts to the Christian faith.”
“Yes,” Hyacintha said, “and they have had peaceful times at
Alexandria, whither they went with old Ezra. I have been hoping for
news from Britain to reach me on this occasion of my full profession
in the temple, but none has come.”
“Thy father is now in the highest office in Verulam, and perchance
may send a special messenger. He knows well that our festival is on
the 9th of June, and it is possible some word may be sent.”
“Dearest lady,” Hyacintha said, “does not all life seem like a dream?
—everything passing, nothing staying. While we say ‘This is
beautiful,’ it is gone; while we exult, the cause of exultation is over;
while we weep, the grief or the vexation is vanishing. Did you ever
feel as I do—as if I could not lay hold of, or grasp anything?”
“Have I not felt it? Ah! child, a thousand times! But, sure, you have
no grief to make you weep.”
“Nay, not grief,” Hyacintha said; “not deep heart-grief, but vexations
that arise in a large community like ours; and sometimes if I try to
stem a torrent of gossip and bitterness the shafts turn on me, from
the young disciple, child though she be, Cœlia, in particular. Not
often,” she said, smiling, “not often, but sometimes. And now that I
shall have to instruct those beneath me I feel there will be more
trial.”
“I do not think you will fail, dear one,” Terentia said; “you have had
great success hitherto.”
“When I look back on the records of the priestesses,” Hyacintha said,
“I can but feel that there must be something stronger and more
potent than mere will which keeps us so secure. In all the long
thousand years that have passed since we were first entrusted with
the sacred fire, and Numa built us our first temple, to preserve the
palladium of Troy, so few have failed to fulfil their vow. Surely this is
a proof that what we profess is the true faith. When I first came
hither, and Lucia told me of the punishment which befel the vestals
who broke their vow, I dreamed of it, and used to fancy myself
thrust into that dungeon to starve—so fearful it is to think of—and
yet”——Hyacintha paused.
“Tell me what is in thy heart, my daughter; do not be afraid.”
“And yet,” Hyacintha continued, “the disciples of the new faith would
cheerfully be shut into a dungeon and starved rather than deny the
Man of Nazareth whom they worship. It must be a reality to them,
though a false mirage to us. Is it not so?”
Terentia Rufilla was silent. The young maiden, standing at the eve of
her full profession as a priestess of the goddess Vesta, had only
given words to thoughts which seemed to crave for expression
within her own heart.
It must often have been so. The multitude, who knew nothing
beyond the old faith, and who were content with the outside show
and splendid pageantry that marked a festival like that to be
celebrated the next day but one, in honour of Vesta, might be
content. But not the earnest, cultivated, highborn woman like
Terentia Rufilla, who had read much, and thought much, and had
put aside as beneath her consideration the story of the Cross of
Christ.
Now that the Church of the Catacombs had been able to lift her
head, and openly practise the rites and celebrate the worship of the
religion of Christ, it was impossible that women like Terentia should
fail to consider what was forced upon their attention. For the vestals
did not lead a secluded life—the seniors amongst them were well
acquainted with what passed in Rome, and it was impossible for
them to be ignorant of the rapid advances which Christianity was
making. It was all very well for the careless and idle to ignore the
fact, and deny that the old temple was in danger, and the old
ceremonies growing effete and languishing. To the thoughtful
observer, the base and mean, the low and contemptible religion, was
growing apace, and its branches were casting their shadows on
every side.
“Yes,” Terentia said, “at least the delusion is apparently no delusion
in the eyes of the poor misguided ones who follow it. As a child may
try to reach the horizon line which meets the wide-spread
Campagna, the sky seeming to touch the earth, and the child
believes it does touch it, and runs fast and faster, and lies down at
last exhausted, after a fruitless chase. Let us say no more of the
Christians now, Hyacintha, but tell me if thy robe is ready for the
morrow, and thy two-eared pitcher prepared for the first mission
thou hast to perform?”
“Yes, dearest lady. I am to go alone to the fountain unattended, and
bring the fresh water to the goddess’s shrine.”
“The lictor must attend thee to the gate of the garden, and await thy
return. Then follows the choice of a new disciple. They become less
and less numerous every year. I can recall the time when twice
twenty young children were waiting to be chosen, and how those
who were rejected were often sent away weeping. For the last two
years the number has been small, and the noble houses have sent
but few aspirants. I remember when thou first camest, dear child, a
little wayworn maiden clinging to the hand of Clœlia, who brought
thee to the atrium, timidly, and uncertain of thy reception. The
daughter of Severus needed no introduction to me in any case, but
how gladly I welcomed thee, my fair and lovely one!”
Hyacintha pressed her lips upon the hand which was wound round
her neck, and then the two were silent—that silence of perfect
sympathy and affection which is so sweet, sweeter far than any
words.
The shadows deepened in the house of the vestals early in the
evening of the glorious June day. Even at noontide the light in the
atrium and state apartments was dim, for the Palatine cliff was
behind them, and the wall really supported the road above it. The
Imperial palace rose to the height of a hundred and fifty feet in the
air; and it is not surprising that sunshine, even at midsummer, only
touched the upper floor, and left the vast area below chill and dim
with a mysterious light.
Damp must have been an enemy to the health of the vestals; but
the recent discoveries have brought to light some curious devices by
which the enemy was combated.
Double walls have been unearthed, and double floors, with skilfully
diverted currents of hot air which flowed through the interstices,
must have in some measure warmed and dried the atmosphere.
Hyacintha could hardly sleep, when at last she retired for the night.
She feared so much that she should not be awake at dawn, that she
begged Lucia to call her at the first cock-crow. But long before the
old vestal had thought of going to her chamber to rouse her,
Hyacintha was up and ready to start.
She was conducted by a lictor to the gate of the garden, where we
saw her as a child, and went with the swift light foot of a young
fawn to the spring on the Cælian Hill. She carried the two-eared
vase or jug gracefully poised on her head, and she was leaning
against the rock whence the spring flowed, the very type of youthful
beauty and radiant health. The dim shadows of the vestals’ house
had left her untouched; no damp had been enough to steal the rose-
colour from her cheeks, nor the lustre from her beautiful eyes. She
was indeed a vision of loveliness, and the tall athletic soldier who,
scaling the hill, came all unawares upon her, as Ebba had done years
before, might be forgiven, if, with a sudden start, he drew back, and
exclaimed—
“The goddess herself, methinks!” He was about to bend the knee
before Hyacintha, when he suddenly drew himself erect, and
contenting himself with taking off his heavy helmet, he stood, with
bowed head, transfixed.
Hyacintha’s cheeks grew crimson, her lips parted as if to speak, but
no sound came. The long years which lay between her and the
home of her childhood seemed bridged over. Memories of all that
had passed in the little upper chamber at Verulam came thronging
back, words spoken there, a promise made, all flashed upon her, and
then with a voice that was like sound of silvery music, she said—
“Claudius! it is indeed Claudius!”
“Even so, fair and beautiful lady,” the soldier said. “I am Claudius,
and had I not renounced the worship of the false gods, I should lie
prostrate at your feet, and do you sacrifice.”
“Nay, do not speak like that, good Claudius,” Hyacintha said. “I pray
you, let me hear if you bring me news from Verulam.”
“I have seen much foreign service since I left Verulam,” Claudius
said; “I have led a battalion against the northern tribes. I have won
my way, and I am now in Rome the commander of a legion of fine
troops. Where is Casca?”
“Alas! he left Rome some years ago. He is, or was, when last I had
tidings of him, at Alexandria, whither he accompanied Ezra and the
faithful Ebba. My brother and Ebba are both Christians. Alas, that I
should say it!”
“I well know that Ebba is a Christian,” Claudius said; “you have
heard that I fulfilled my vow to you, and saved the British slave’s
life?”
“Ah, yes! ah, yes! good Claudius, I thank you. Ebba has told me of
the noble deed, and Casca, too, has spoken of you. But I have seen
neither of them for years. I thank you now for your deed of valour,
good Claudius.”
As she stood in the light of the early morning, Claudius could not
have drawn nearer or taken her hand in his. An invisible but strong
barrier seemed to keep him back.
“My father,” she asked, “is there news of him? I know my mother is
dead, and the little Livia also. These tidings were brought me by
Caius, whose galley has been several times to Londinium since those
far-off days, when he brought us hither, Casca and me.”
“Your father, the noble Severus, has married my sister Junia. Has he
never told you?”
“No,” Hyacintha said, the blush on her cheek fading. “No, I hear it
now for the first time. I would I had never heard it; forgive me, for
Junia is your sister.”
“There is no need to claim forgiveness. I think as hardly of my sister
as any one, but I pray daily for her conversion, and I will believe not
in vain, for the Lord can change the heart and bring sweetness out
of bitterness.”
“Art thou too a Christian?” Hyacintha asked, with an almost
imperceptible start backwards.
“A Christian,” Claudius said, “ay, verily, and I would to God you were
one also.”
“I,” said Hyacintha, proudly. “Nay, this day is my happy day, the day
when I, who have been for near ten years training under the care of
the sacred virgins, have my lot appointed me to minister in the
temple and sprinkle the shrine with this pure water, which I have
been allowed to draw myself alone at dawn for the first time. To-
morrow is our glad festival, and we shall walk through the city in a
long procession, and to-night I shall for the first time keep watch
alone in the temple. It is a great and wonderful thing to be a vestal!
I would not exchange my lot for an Imperial diadem,” she said, with
a proud dignified motion of her head. “I would I were more worthy
to fulfil so high a destiny.”
Claudius, who had led a Roman phalanx against hordes of
barbarians, and had never feared danger or shrunk from death, felt
strangely timid in the presence of this beautiful friend of his early
years.
He had kept her image before him, as the winning, lovely child, so
full of earnestness of purpose, so gentle and tender to the slaves in
her mother’s household, so full of sympathy with their pain and
trouble, so devoted in her service of affection to her delicate and
weakly brother. Claudius had preserved her image as a child, and
loved her; now she was standing before him in the full beauty of her
womanhood, and he felt his love was nearly worship. He was a
Christian now. He had been won to embrace the faith by the
example of a few who professed Christianity amongst Constantine’s
army. Claudius had been with the Emperor’s force, when he went to
repress an incursion of the Franks, one of the hardy Northern tribes
on the banks of the Rhine. It was just at the time when the
treacherous Maximian had taken advantage of Constantine’s absence
to seize all the treasure at Arles, and dispensing it amongst the
soldiers who were stationed in Southern Gaul, hoped to establish his
authority by gifts and bribes. But before that was done Constantine
had returned with extraordinary quickness, and Claudius had been
with his army when he arrived at the gates of Arles with a force
which it was impossible to resist, and which scarcely gave him time
to take refuge in the nearest city of Marseilles.
Claudius had indeed seen much active service since he had gone out
with Valens to pursue the little band of Christians in the forest near
Radburn, and many a time the cries and tears of that innocent and
inoffensive little band seemed to sound in his ears and reproach him.
“I think,” he said, “the first time I ever felt that the religion of Christ
must be a reality was when I saw that brave woman Agatha quietly
submit to receive the dead Jewish girl in the dark dungeon, and,
faint and exhausted, as it proved, even to death, make no murmur
at the lonely vigil with the dead to which I left her. I would not speak
to you here,” Claudius continued, “of my deeds of prowess. Those
scenes in which I have taken part are no theme for your ear, most
beautiful Hyacintha, but I would fain tell you, that face to face with
death a hundred times, I have felt the power of God within me was
mighty to save.
“In the last great fight at Saxa Rubra, where we came unawares
upon the army of Maxentius, I fought side by side with the friend
who has so deeply influenced me. He was a Christian indeed, and
though he defended himself valiantly, he indulged in no barbaric
cruelty, such as we soldiers have often witnessed, and—I say it with
shame—indulged in.”
“The story of that battle is well known amongst us,” Hyacintha said.
“We have been rid of the tyrant Maxentius, and Rome may have
rest.”
“There can be but little rest,” said Claudius. “I, for one, am weary of
the clang of arms and fighting. Methinks I shall resign my high post,
and try to find Casca in the far-off city where you say he is gone.
The roar of the vanquished ones as they rushed to meet their fate in
the swift-flowing Tiber sounds in my ear many a time and oft, and I
would fain lay down my arms. I have had a glut of battles, and could
almost take up Casca’s cry of—‘Anything but bloodshed.’ I am a
rough fellow, I know, but Christianity can tame the roughest, and
subdue the most ferocious nature. It would lift you,” he continued, in
a voice faltering from deep emotion, “to the very height of the
angelic host.”
A smile broke over Hyacintha’s face.
“Good Claudius,” she said; “I am in no need of exaltation, neither of
humiliation. For when I think of all the great privileges which lie
before me to-day—of the lonely watch before the altar of Vesta, and
of the part which I shall take to-morrow in the great festival, I feel,
methinks, as if my heart swelled with proud thankfulness.
“The time is come for me,” she continued, “to return, for the sun is
getting high above the horizon.
“Ah!” she said, stretching out her arms to the lovely view before her.
“How beautiful the city is! how grand! how like a queen! and surely I
am highly favoured to be allowed to minister at the sacred altar, and
keep alive the purifying flame which shall ensure the safety of
thousands in Rome.”
“Little do you dream in your seclusion of all the wickedness that
seethes like a turbid fountain whose waters cast up mire and dirt in
Rome!” Claudius exclaimed. “It may be well that you, in your purity
and innocence, should know but little—nay, nothing—of all that lies
below the surface—greed, and lust, and murder, all those things
which are the signs and token, or, rather, the fruits of the flesh.”
“Do not tell me more,” Hyacintha said. “I cannot amend what is
wrong. I am content to believe, as those higher and nobler than I
am have believed for a thousand years.”
“Are you indeed content to believe?” Claudius asked sadly. “I know
that if I were to draw a picture of all, that after only a short
residence, I see in Rome, you would not be content. The wife and
daughter of Diocletian have been foully murdered. Think you not
that the blood of the Christian matrons and maidens who fell under
the ban of the Emperor did not cry for vengeance, and that the cry
was answered by their destruction?”
“The innocent suffering for the guilty? Nay,” said Hyacintha, with a
light laugh; “if the God whom you worship decrees such judgment,
He is not worthy of love.”
“And yet,” said Claudius, “and yet in the sufferings of Christ, the
pure, the undefiled, for the sinner, rests our safety.”
“Nay! not your safety,” exclaimed Hyacintha; “or why did Christ leave
so many to perish, torn by wild beasts, stoned, and tortured?”
“I am no scholar,” Claudius said. “I am not like Casca, learned in
argument and reasoning, but there is in me a witness to the truth of
what I say. The innocent suffered for the guilty, and there is
salvation in that suffering for all who believe; and I know in whom I
believe!”
Hyacintha was silent. Claudius had always seemed to her in her
childish days a brave and athletic youth, when feats of arms and
success in the games had so often brought her father’s angry and
contemptuous taunts on the head of her brother Casca.
Many a time had she heard him declare that Claudius ought to have
been his son, and that the weakly Casca was scarcely better than a
girl. Hyacintha had often shrunk from Claudius’s roughness, his
boisterous laugh, his loud ringing voice as he rallied Casca on his
depression. Now she could but tell herself there was a change. The
face, bronzed by exposure, and scarred in two places by a sword-
cut, was benign and gentle in its expression. The voice that came
from under that mass of reddish hair was subdued and even
musical. Claudius was changed—what had brought about that
change? She was, I think, unconscious that as she stood there—the
most winning and beautiful picture of womanhood—that she filled
Claudius’s strong and noble heart with longing to possess her—to
take her from this false faith, to bring her to the foot of the Cross,
that she might live in the true light that lighteth every man.
Hyacintha’s was one of those pure and noble natures to whom
service is a necessity, and who can know no selfish and ignoble
aims.
There was never a little disciple in distress about a torn garment or a
neglected lesson but she came to Hyacintha for help. There was not
wanting the mean spirit of jealousies amongst the vestals; bitter
tongues were often in motion; rivalries, and anxieties for the best
places at the games, and for notice from those in power were rife;
the choicest viands at the table were eagerly sought; and the
weariness and lassitude which are born of the service which is not
heart-service, and therefore becomes drudgery, continually produced
ill-temper, which is so often the outcome of discontent. It was rare,
indeed, to find Hyacintha cross or angry; she bore and forbare, and
won her way through all the trials of her surroundings with a
wonderful patience.
Her relationship to Terentia Rufilla, and the close friendship which
existed between them, excited, as was only probable, the envy of
many of her companions. But ill-will could not flourish near her. The
bright serenity of her nature triumphed over every obstacle, and, like
the sun, dispersed the clouds around her, as day by day she rose
higher in the estimation of those with whom she shared the daily
routine of the Vestals’ House.
That these noble characters were by no means uncommon in the
days of which I write is beyond a question. They shine out amongst
the records of those times like stars in the firmament, and many
women like Hyacintha Severa have, when converted to the faith of
Christ, shown that they were true as steel and steadfast as a rock,
and glad to suffer and to die for the name of Christ.
The fountain rippled, and the falling of the water made a low,
monotonous murmur; the sun rising above the hills turned every
dew-drop into a diamond, and lay upon the turf, which was jewelled
with flowers in golden bands.
Hyacintha stood lost in meditation, Claudius watching her.
He drew a step nearer, and she started, as if from a happy dream;
then he spoke in low, earnest tones.
“Hyacintha, would that I could think you knew in whom you believe.
Sweet friend, I will pray for you, and my prayers—rough and
untaught soldier as I am—ascending continually, will be heard. I
would not hurt a hair of your head,” he continued, earnestly. “I
would not even bring the shadow of a cloud over you. I know that
you have vowed to give up all loves of earth, and that the vow you
have taken is the vow for life. Were you other than what you are, I
might tell you of the love I bear you—a love which has kept me in
the thickest onslaught of temptation! As you keep the sacred fire on
the altar, so have I kept this love for you in my heart.
“It will burn there till I die, and after death it will still live on.... Nay,”
he said, as he saw the swift blush mantle Hyacintha’s cheek—“nay, I
would not awaken in you one troubled thought. I shall never possess
you, but the love I bear you is deathless. I seem to see in the future
a land more beautiful than mortal eye has ever looked upon, and
there something tells me I shall find you, my beautiful one, in
garments whiter even than that you now wear, and bought for you
by the Innocent who suffered for the guilty.”
Claudius, like many another man who has loved as a pure, good
man only can love, seemed carried into eloquence by the force of
the feeling within him.
He knelt for a moment at Hyacintha’s feet, took her hand and kissed
it, and the next moment he was gone.
The awakening had come for the Vestal on the very eve of her full
admission to the duties she had so longed for: that awakening
comes to most of us; and there was never a true and good woman
who could lightly esteem the devotion of a noble-hearted man.
Hyacintha stood leaning against the rock whence the fountain
flowed; for a few moments her heart beat fast, and her eyes were
dim with unbidden tears, as she thought over all that Claudius had
said.
He was, indeed, in earnest; truth was written on his fine face; and
truth rang out in the tones of his voice.
For a few minutes a vague longing possessed her—a longing which
could hardly be clothed in words. Then she smiled as she said, softly
—
“Good Claudius! Brave, noble Claudius! May he find all the happiness
he craves for me!”
The two-eared vase was raised by her unfaltering hand, so that not
one crystal drop was spilled as she bore it on her stately head, and
went down to the gate where the lictors had awaited her coming
patiently, wondering much at her long delay.
 CHAPTER XII.
VANISHING.

Throughout that day of preparation for the festival, the new priestess
was continually thinking of her interview with Claudius on the Cælian
Hill. Not even the new dignities which were conferred on her could
entirely banish from her mind the words and bearing of the old
companion of her childish days in Britain.
It was a grand thing to sprinkle with her own hands the sacred
shrine and Palladium, to be consecrated solemnly by the priest for all
the functions of her office, as she had once been dedicated as a
child to be trained to fulfil them.
The beautiful new garments of spotless purity were solemnly placed
upon her, and when the ceremony was over, and she had rested for
a time, Terentia Rufilla led her to her place behind the altar, and
gave into her charge the sacred fire, which was to be replenished
continually during the silent hours of the night.
Then, with a kiss, the Vestal Maxima departed, the temple door was
closed, and Hyacintha was alone.
Through the opening in the roof the deep blue sky of the Italian
night was seen, studded with stars, and from afar came the sound
of the surging multitudes of Rome, like the distant roar of the sea,
growing less and less distinct as the summer night hushed even the
busy throngs of the Roman citizens to rest.
Hyacintha felt a sense of awe, but not of fear. She looked up at the
face of the figure of the goddess, and then beyond it, upwards to
the stars, and she felt as far from the one as from the other.
There was no bond of love between Vesta and her priestess, no sign
that for her she felt any particular care or affection.
It was a high honour to be her priestess; from her childhood she had
craved for it, and now the honour was hers, and yet, surely, there
was a void, a want somewhere, which Vesta could not fill.
It was service for Rome to guard that sacred fire, and as she moved
gently, with a sort of hushed reverence, to the silver vessels where
the fuel was kept, to replenish that clear bright flame, she almost
started at her own movements, and scarcely dared to breathe, as
she gently and reverently fed the sacred fire.
“It is for the good of Rome and her people,” she thought, “it is a
service which many thousands might envy, but there is scarce the
response within my heart of which Claudius spoke; did he not call it
‘a witness.’ I felt a great glow of joy to-day when I took poor little
Pulcheria to my chamber, and consoled her for her grief that she was
not thought fair enough to lead the procession of the children
disciples through Rome to-morrow. Poor little one! how she wept
because Valeria had been elected and she was rejected. As she
threw her arms round my neck and sobbed out that she loved to be
with me, and that she would not care about Valeria’s unkind words if
I were her friend, I felt that sweetness at my heart which I do not
feel here. Here, where I am fulfilling the most beautiful of offices—
the guardian of the Palladium—the replenishing of the sacred flame!
“I ought to be satisfied and happy, with a happiness greater than
that of the pleasure-seeking ladies, whose life is passed in
indulgence, and who die at last, worn out with the search for that, to
judge by many sad faces, they never find.
“I have a higher and nobler destiny to fulfil, and I can never become
like old Lucia or Agrippina, who go through all the service of the
temple with slow unwilling feet, dark sad eyes, and even mutter
words of dissatisfaction.
“Nor can I ever grow into the nearly worn out victim of pleasure, still
less the sorrowful, heavy-hearted priestess, whose service has lost
its charm. Nay, for the twenty years I may spend here my life shall
at least be happier than that of my poor mother, who died, as some
have said, by poison, administered by a slave whom she had hated.
Yet, how beautiful she was in the atrium at Verulam, with Ebba—
dear Ebba—standing at her side. I can see her now, toying with her
lovely hair, when Ebba had plaited into the tresses the gold
ornaments and arranged the long violet ribbons with their gold
fringe. Poor Ebba, and dear Casca! Shall I ever see them again?”
This desultory train of thought flowed on during the watches of the
short night. For the summer morning of the ninth of June soon
broke over the hills, and touched the Forum and the Temple, and the
façades of the Imperial Palace, and the long vista of stately figures
on the Appian Way, with a soft rosy light. The day of the great
festival dawned in exquisite beauty, and everyone within the
precincts of the Temple and the House of the Vestals was astir.
But the great festival did not attract so much attention as in former
years. Even in the early days of her own priesthood, Terentia Rufilla
remembered how far more numerous were the applications from
noble houses for a place in the procession through the streets of
Rome. Nevertheless, the effect was sufficiently imposing, as the long
line flowed past the spectators, with all the garlands and crowns
fluttering gently in the summer air.
The children came first—sweet grave-eyed little maidens—with
offerings in their hands for the altar of Jupiter Pistor, which was
erected expressly for the occasion. Then came the fully-consecrated
vestals, barefooted, in their flowing robes, which became them so
well.
Conspicuous amongst these was Hyacintha Severa. She carried the
folds of her large purple mantle with wonderful grace over her arm,
and her long white robe flowing beneath it to her feet, showed the
outline of her beautifully-proportioned figure to the greatest
advantage.
The close covering on her head, which was to some women far from
becoming, seemed only to enhance the beauty of her slender throat,
upon which her head was set like a flower upon a stalk. Long
ribbons floated at the back, and added to the effect of the picture, of
which the recent discoveries of the figures in the Vestals’ House,
which the sculptors of those days delighted to perpetuate in marble,
have given us some faint idea. But no sculptor or painter could
perpetuate the grave happiness which was shed, like the soft halo of
a summer night upon a lovely landscape, over the face of Hyacintha
Severa.
As the last fully-consecrated Vestal, she walked a little in front of the
five who followed her, and then came the noble and stately form of
Terentia Rufilla. She had lost, of course, all the charms of youth, but
her features were finely cut, and her carriage stately and imposing.
There were many gorgeously-dressed Roman ladies behind her,
whose splendid crimson and violet robes, glistening with jewels and
sparkling with pearls, contrasted well with the long train of white-
robed maidens which wound slowly on before them through crowds
of spectators, the lictors clearing the road which was in many places
strewn with flowers as they walked.
Claudius was amongst the outside crowd which moved along with
the procession. His high rank as Commander of the Forces under the
Emperor Constantine ensured him respect, and he and a few of his
officers who were with him, drew up in martial array before the
temple, as the Vestals passed in to the great sacrifice.
Some of his officers crossed the threshold and stood gazing at the
high ceremonial with curiosity, prostrating themselves in that
mechanical way which characterised the religious services of the
temple in those the last days of the worship of the heathen gods.
Claudius’s great height placed him on a vantage-ground, and he
could see over the heads of the dense crowd before him. He had
never once lost sight of Hyacintha, but she was utterly unconscious
of his presence. All the enthusiasm of her nature was awakened by
this public acknowledgment of the service to which she had devoted
her life.
As the priest in his gorgeous vestments sacrificed before the
goddess, and the clouds of smoke rose and ascended to the sky
through the impluvium or open space in the roof, Hyacintha’s heart
went up to One whom she “ignorantly worshipped;” and if the desire
of her soul could have been put into words, it would have been that
she might be kept pure in her temple ministry, and that the fire of
devotion might be ever burning clear and bright in her heart, as she
had vowed to keep the sacred flame burning on the altar of Vesta.
While many of her companions were looking around them, to see
what friends and acquaintances were in the crowd, Hyacintha was
lifted far above the throng of worshippers, and gazers on the
spectacle, and thought only of the joy of service, and the happiness
of being at last a fully-consecrated priestess, one of a long line
which reached back a thousand years, and reached forward, as she
believed, to a future age.
The young priestess that day entering upon her office had no
presentiment of what was indeed the fact, that the years of the
Vestals were numbered, and that Terentia Rufilla was to have but
two successors as Vestal Maxima, and that one of these was herself.
Terentia, however, knew that many new influences were at work,
which were undermining the old traditions or scattering them to the
winds of heaven. The fear at her heart was as great as the joy which
filled Hyacintha’s, and she could scarcely assume a cheerful aspect
at the banquet, to which many of the highest families in Rome were
bidden.
The whole day was one of feasting, and games were celebrated, and
the Vestals were present in the Circus Maximus, where seats were,
as in the Coliseum, always reserved for them near those allotted to
the Emperor.
It was there that Hyacintha first seemed to be conscious of
Claudius’s presence, and when he saluted her with profound respect,
she turned to Terentia, and said:—
“This is good Claudius, my father’s friend,” and Terentia was not slow
to notice how the soft blush rose to Hyacintha’s cheek, as she
pronounced the few words of introduction.
So the day wore on in feasting and pleasure, and then the shadows
of the evening came down upon the city. Hyacintha, who was
sleeping after the fatigue of the day, was awakened by Terentia’s
voice:—
“It is drawing near the hour for thy watch, dear child,” she said;
“shall I watch to-night, and let thee dream? I have been looking at
thy sleeping face for some minutes,” she said, gently smoothing back
the golden-brown rings of short hair which clustered round
Hyacintha’s brow.
“Happy dreams they must surely have been, for there was a smile
upon thy lips.”
“Yes,” Hyacintha said, “I had a vision, I think. Wait till I recall it,” and
she drew her hand across her eyes, and pressed it on her forehead.
“I remember,” she said,—“yes, I remember now. I thought I was
looking down on Rome from a high place—not the Cælian Hill or the
Quirinal—it was a hill far higher. Indeed, I saw them beneath me,
and I saw the temples beneath me, and our temple most distinctly
of all. Then, as I looked, it vanished. It was not thrown down or
destroyed; it melted into air slowly—very slowly; but soon it was
gone: and then I looked around me, and lo! all the temples were
fading, and a voice spoke to me, and it was the voice of a humble
but true friend—Ebba, or Anna, the British slave. She, too, was
changed. She wore garments like ours, only whiter and more
dazzling, and she held out her hand to me, and asked me to go up
with her to the city to which she pointed. But when I looked I could
see only a golden glory, and nothing distinctly. My eyes were
dazzled, and I turned away. Then Ebba drew me on and told me to
listen, for there was sweet music. But my ears were dull; I could not
hear what she heard. Then she took me in her arms, and I laid my
head upon her breast, as I have often done when I was a child; and
she said:—
“‘Not yet—not yet; but you are coming out of the darkness into the
light.’ And a sweet peace stole over me, and I felt a cool hand on my
brow; and then I awoke, and it was not Ebba at all, but you, dearest
lady—sweet mother—as I love to call you. It was a happy dream;
and it is a happy awakening.”
“It was a vision,” Terentia said, “for I do believe the temples are
vanishing, and soon only the memory will be left. I say soon; it may
not be in my life-time or in yours; but the end is coming, and the
time of our nightly watches yonder is short. I hear a rumour to-day
that an edict establishing Christianity will be published to-morrow,
and then the old faiths will be seen like the phantom of your dream
—vanishing—vanishing, and at last vanish away.”
“And what will be the end?” Hyacintha asked; “what will come
after?”
“Nay, child; it is not given me to know, nor even dimly guess; but if
there be a future at all, that future is not for us.”
The sorrowful tone of Terentia’s voice seemed like the minor chord in
the music of the young priestess’s soul. Vanishing—vanishing—
vanished! Was everything to vanish?—life and youth and hope, and
the sacred fire, and the Palladium, and the goddess herself—all to
pass away, and leave no trace behind? Well, it was not for her to
question, or cavil, or doubt. The daily service of the temple—the
nightly watch—these were marked out for her—these were, at any
rate, real and tangible. She would perform them zealously and
faithfully, and make each day like a pearl, which should prove ere
long a strong chain, uniting her with the Great Past, and so making a
bond with all her predecessors who had kept their vow and their
womanhood pure and undefiled. With that simplicity which is the
outcome of the highest gifts, with that entire absence of self-
consciousness which invariably marks those whose beauty is far
beyond the ordinary type of fair women, Hyacintha Severa stands
forth to command our love and admiration as a light that shone in a
dark place—a star that trembled on the verge of dawn, the dawn of
a holier and purer day, which was even then breaking over the
world.
The festival of the goddess Vesta had scarcely passed when a crowd
assembled in the Forum to hear the proclamation, that henceforth
the Christians were to be allowed freedom to worship their God
without being interfered with; and from that time Christianity might
be said to be established in Rome and the world.
Great were the rejoicings in the Church. The hidden worship of the
Catacombs became now open and to be heard and seen of all men.
The orders of the Christian Church were enlarged, and bishops and
priests and deacons were appointed to minister to the people. The
sun had risen, at last, over the darkness of the heathen world, and
in those early days was as yet but little clouded by the mists of
earth, by those “superstitious vanities” which so grievously eclipsed
the glory of the Church of Rome in succeeding generations.
Now there was purity of life and doctrine, and, like Claudius,
thousands were won over by the example of the converts rather
than by the preaching of the priests.
The witness in every man’s soul who turned to the living God made
itself seen in the life and conversation, and there were dark places
indeed in that year of Christian freedom which made the opening of
the Christian life more beautiful by force of contrast.
In this very year—313—the most shameful life of Maximian, and his
treatment of the unhappy Valeria, the widow of Galerius, had made
even the luxurious Roman shudder with horror. The story of the foul
murders at Nicomedia reached Rome, and filled many hearts with
sorrow. If the religion of Christ showed the way of escape from such
wicked passions and low base deeds, there was safety in it.
And then, on the lower ground of personal security, many professed
themselves to be Christians; many who had not troubled themselves
to inquire into the doctrines of Christ’s disciples, saw that they
practised purity of life and manners, and now that there was no
persecution or torture to dread, Christianity became more widely
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