In front of her, and following her, men and veiled women, singly or in couples or in larger groups, passed into Paulina’s garden.  They came from workshops and writing-rooms, from humble houses in narrow lanes, and from the handsomest and largest in the main street.  Each and all, from the wealthy merchant down to the slave who could not call the coarse tunic or scanty apron that he wore, his own, walked gravely and with a certain dignified reserve.  All who met within that gate greeted each other as friends; the master gave a brotherly kiss to the servant, the slave to his owner; for the congregation to which they all belonged was as one body, animated and dwelt in by Christ, so that each member was esteemed as equal to the others however different their gifts of body or mind might be, or the worldly possessions with which they were endowed.  Before God and his Saviour the rich ship-owner or the grey-haired sage stood no higher than the defenceless widow and the ignorant slave crippled with blows.  Still, the members of the community submitted to those more implicitly than to these, for the special talents which graced certain superior Christians were gifts of grace from the Lord, readily acknowledged as such and, so far as they concerned the inner man, deemed worthy of honor.

On Sunday, the day of the Resurrection of the Lord, all Christians, without exception, visited their place of assembly for divine worship.  To-day, being the middle of the week, all who could or chose came to the love-feast at Paulina’s suburban house.  She herself dwelt in the city and she had placed the banqueting hall of her villa, which would hold more than a hundred souls, at the disposal of her fellow Christians in that quarter of the town.  The regular service was held in the morning, but after the day’s labor was ended the Christians met at one table to have an evening meal in common, or—­on other occasions to partake of the sacramental supper.  After sunset the elders, deacons, and deaconesses—­ most of whom, so long as it was light, had secular work to attend to—­met to take counsel together.

Paulina, the widow of Pudeus and sister of Pontius the architect, was a woman of considerable property and at the same time a prudent steward, who did not consider herself justified in seriously impairing her son’s inheritance.  This son was residing at Smyrna as a partner in an uncle’s business, and always avoided Alexandria, as he did not like his mother’s intercourse with the Christians.  Paulina took the most anxious care not to make any inroads on the capital intended for him, and never allowed her hospitality to her fellow-believers to cost her any more than it did the other wealthy members of the circle that met at her house.  There the rich brought more than they needed for themselves and the poor were always welcome; not feeling themselves oppressed by the benevolence they profited by, for they were often told that their entertainer was not a mortal, but the Saviour, who invited each one who followed him faithfully to be his guest.