In one of his works on this subject, Eulogius expresses a fear lest the intervention of the martyrs should bring disaster on the Church in Spain, just as the intervention of Moses in Egypt did much at first to aggravate the hardships of the Israelites.[1] He ought not, therefore, to have been surprised, when such a result actually did follow; nor ought he to complain that now the Moslems would only let the Christians observe their religion in such a way as they chose to dictate; and that the Christians were subjected to all sorts of taxes and exactions.[2]

These combined measures of repression, taken by the King and the Bishop of Seville, soon produced their effect.  The extreme party were broken up, some escaping to quieter regions, others hiding, and only venturing abroad in disguise and at night—­not, as Eulogius is careful to add, from fear of death, but because the high prize of martyrdom is not reserved for the unworthy many, but for the worthy few.[3]

    [1] Ibid., ii. c. xvi.

[2] Eulog., “Doc.  Mart.,” sec. 18—­“Nunc pro suo libito tantummodo exercere nos sinentes Christianismum ... nunc publicum imponentes censum, nunc rebus nos abdicantes detrimentis atterunt rerum.”

    [3] Eulog., “Mem.  Sanct.,” ii. sec. 14—­“Quia indigni sumus
    martyrio, quod quibusdam et non omnibus datum est.”

Some even apostatized,[1] while many of those who had applauded the proceedings of the martyrs, now called them indiscreet, and blamed them for indulging in a selfish desire to desert the suffering Church for an early mansion in the skies.[2] Others, in order to retain posts under Government, or to court favour with the King, dissembled their religion, taking care not to pray, or make the sign of the cross in public.[3] Eulogius himself was singled out at the meeting of the King’s Council by one of the royal secretaries, Gomez, son of Antonian, son of Julian,[4] as the ringleader of the new seditious movement.  This man was a very worldly-minded Christian,[5] and was, no doubt, at this time, in fear of losing his lucrative office at Court, which he had obtained by his remarkable knowledge of Arabic.  He did, in fact, lose his post with all the other Christian officers of the Court, but regained it by becoming a Moslem;[6] and such was the ardour of the new proselyte that he was called “the dove of the mosque."[7]

The result of this council was, as we have seen, hostile to the party of which Eulogius and Saul were the chiefs, but the former writer, mentioning the actual decree that was passed, pretends that it was merely a blind to deceive the king, and spoken figuratively; and he acknowledges that such hypocrisy was unworthy of the prelates and officers assembled.[8] Is it not more reasonable to suppose that Eulogius and his supporters voted for it—­as they seem to have done—­with a mental reservation, while their opponents honestly considered such a step necessary?