The Death of Peregrine (11-15)

'It was now that he came across the priests and scribes of the Christians, in Palestine, and picked up their queer creed. I can tell you, he pretty soon convinced them of his superiority; prophet, elder, ruler of the Synagogue—he was everything at once; expounded their books, commented on them, wrote books himself. They took him for a God, accepted his laws, and declared him their president. The Christians, you know, worship a man to this day,—the distinguished personage who introduced their novel rites, and was crucified on that account.

Well, the end of it was that Proteus was arrested and thrown into prison, This was the very thing to lend an air to his favourite arts of clap-trap and wonder-working; he was now amade man. The Christians took it all very seriously: he was no sooner in prison, thaa they began trying every means to get him out again,—but without success. Everything else that could be done for him they most devoutly did. They thought of nothing else. Orphans and ancient widows might be seen hanging about the prison from break of day. Their officials bribed the gaolers to let them sleep inside with him. Elegant dinners were conveyed in; their sacred writings were read; and our old friend Peregrine (as he was still called in those days) became for them “the modern Socrates.”

In some of the Asiatic cities, too, the Christian communities put themszlves to the expense of sending deputations, with offers of sympathy,

‘To return, however, to Peregrine. The governor of Syria perceived his mental warp: “he must make a name, though he die for it; now philosophy was the governor’s hobby; he discharged him—wouldn’t hear of his being punished—and Peregrine returned to Armenia. He found it too hot to hold him. He was threatened from all quarters with prosecutions for parricide. Then again, the greater part of his property had disappeared in his absence: nothing was left but the land, which might be worth a matter of four thousand pounds, The whole estate, as the old man left it, would come perhaps to eight thousand. Theagenes was talking nonsense when he said a million odd. Why, the whole city, with its five nearest neighbours thrown in, men, cattle, and goods of every description, would never fetch that sum.—

Meanwhile, indictments and accusations were brewing: an attack might be looked for at any moment: as for the common people, they were in