The Luminous Way to the East: Texts

and History of the First Encounter of

Christianity with China Matteo
Nicolini-Zani
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The Luminous Way to the East

ii
iii

The Luminous
Way to the East
Texts and History of the First
Encounter of Christianity
with China

MATTEO NICOLINI-​Z ANI

Translated by

WILLIAM SKUDLAREK

1
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1
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2021044708

ISBN 978–​0–​19–​760964–​4

DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197609644.001.0001

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Printed by Integrated Books International, United States of America
v

Contents

Foreword  ix
Preface  xi
Abbreviations  xvii

PART I : A History of Encounters

1. “The Luminous Breeze Blew Eastward”: The Church of the

East from Persia to China  3
The Missionary Dynamism of the Church of the East  3
Christian Archaeological Traces in Asia in the
First Millennium  17
Christian Literature in the Languages of Central Asia  31
The Meeting of Religions on the Silk Road  44

2. “The Brilliant Teaching Turned toward the Tang Empire”:

The Christian Presence in China between 635 and 845  59
Chinese Designations of Tang Christianity  59
A Chronicle of the Events Attested by the Sources  68
The Composition and Structure of Christian Communities  85
The Geographical Location of Christian Monasteries  106
3. “The Scriptures Were Translated”: The First Christian Texts
in Chinese  117
The 781 Xi’an Stele: A Monument “Celebrating the Eminent
and Meritorious Events”  117
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vi Contents

The 815 Luoyang Pillar: A Memorial Stone “Granting the

Luminous Blessings”  137
The “Dunhuang” Manuscripts: A Summary of Research  146
The Production and Literary Form of the Texts  164
The Content of the Texts  177

PART II : The Texts in Translation

Notes on Sources  193

The Reference Editions of the Translated Texts  193
The Transcriptions of Foreign Names  195

Text A:
Stele of the Diffusion of the Luminous Teaching of Da Qin in China
(Da Qin jing jiao liuxing Zhongguo bei 大秦景教流行中國碑)  197

Text B:
1. Hymn in Praise of the Salvation Achieved through the Three
Majesties of the Luminous Teaching (Jingjiao sanwei mengdu
zan 景教三威蒙度讚)  222
2. Book of the Honored (Zunjing 尊經)  226

Text C:
Discourse on the One God (Yishen lun 一神論)  233
I. Discourse on the One Godhead (Yitian lun diyi 一天論第一)  233
II. Metaphorical Teaching (Yu di’er 喻第二)  246
III. Discourse of the Honored One of the Universe on Almsgiving
(Shizun bushi lun disan 世尊布施論第三)  250

Text D:
Book of the Lord Messiah (Xuting mishisuo jing 序聽迷詩所經)  265

Text E:
Book on Profound and Mysterious Blessedness
(Zhixuan anle jing 志玄安樂經)  282
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Contents vii

Text F:
Book of the Luminous Teaching of Da Qin on Revealing the
Origin and Reaching the Foundation (*Da Qin jing jiao
xuanyuan zhiben jing 大秦景教宣元至本經)  298

Bibliography  305
Index of Names, Texts, and Manuscripts  383
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ix

Foreword

The discovery, now almost four hundred years ago, of the bilingual
Chinese-​Syriac monumental stele caused almost as great a stir in the world of
learning at that time as did the discovery of the first Dead Sea scrolls in 1947.
In both cases, so astonishing and unexpected were these two finds that at first
some scholars refused to believe that the artifacts in question were genuine.
Such doubts, however, were soon dispelled, but the newly gained informa-
tion in both cases demanded a complete rethinking of previous perceptions,
whether it was of the development of the Hebrew text of the Bible, or in the
case of the Xi’an stele, of the history of the eastern expansion of Christianity.
Who would ever have imagined that the year in which Damascus fell to the
invading Arab armies was also the year when a group of monks from the
Church of the East turned up at the seat of the Tang court? A precise date
for this event, “the ninth year of the Zhenguan era,” corresponding to 635
ce, is explicitly given in the beautifully inscribed text of the Xi’an stele, itself
erected in 781.
With the subsequent discovery of Christian texts in Chinese from the
Tang period, and the very recent discovery of a second stone monument,
the Luoyang pillar dating from 815, a considerable amount of information
about the presence and character of Chinese Christianity in the Tang period
is now available, and quite a number of presentations of the documents for
a wider public have been made. This textual evidence, provided by the two
monuments and by a number of literary texts, is, however, no easy task for the
historian to evaluate, and many of those who have attempted this have not
always been true to the Latin author Tacitus’s ideal for the historian that he
or she should write sine ira et studio, instead doing so from the viewpoint of
some particular Western perspective. This situation makes the appearance of
the present English translation of Matteo Nicolini-​Zani’s La via radiosa per
l’oriente, in its revised and expanded form, so very welcome. Being a scholar
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x Foreword

possessing a deep familiarity with both the primary sources and the (now
very extensive) secondary literature, Matteo Nicolini-​Zani is eminently well
placed to provide a reliable and well-​balanced introduction to, and transla-
tion of, the various materials in Chinese that are available. Furthermore, he
has done this in a manner which very successfully caters both for a general
readership and for an academic one: the general reader can skip the footnotes,
while scholars will be immensely grateful for the richness of, and the wide
learning displayed by, this annotation.
In the first half of the book the author has provided an excellent intro-
duction to the wider background of the texts and their place both within the
history of the Church of the East and within that of the Tang period. This is
followed by a very helpful guide to the texts themselves and to the documents
containing them, for some of which the provenance is problematic. Finally
come authoritative translations of the Xi’an stele and of five further texts, the
last of which is also to be found on the Luoyang pillar. All are provided with
helpful annotation, and in many cases this illuminatingly brings out the ways
in which Buddhist terminology was borrowed by the authors of the texts.
At a time when China is one of the places in the world where Christianity
is expanding, it is particularly important that modern Chinese Christians
should become aware of this earlier presence of an eastern—​and Sinicized—​
form of Christianity in their country during the Tang period. For them, and
for everyone else, the present book provides a reliable and comprehensive
guide both to the texts themselves and to their historical and cultural back-
ground. May it be widely read!
Sebastian Brock
Oriental Institute, Oxford University
xi

Preface

The report that Marco Polo (1254–​1324) made of his travels in Asia
between the years 1271 and 1295 includes a story “which is fitting to tell” about
a meeting that took place around 1288 in Fuzhou (Fugiu in his account), a city
in Southern China, with “a certain manner of people whose religion no one
understands.”1 Marco and his uncle Maffeo visited them, talked with them,
and questioned them about their customs and beliefs, and soon

they found that they held the Christian religion. For they had books,
and these Masters Mafeu and Marc reading in them began to interpret
the writing and to translate from word to word and from tongue to
tongue, so that they found it to be the words of the Psalter. Then they
asked them whence they had that religion and rule. And they answered
and said: “From our ancestors.” And thus they had in a certain temple
of theirs three figures painted, who had been three apostles of the sev-
enty who had gone preaching through the world; and they said that
those had taught their ancestors in that religion long ago, and that that
faith had already been preserved among them for seven hundred years;
but for a long time they had been without teaching and so were ig-
norant of the chief things. “Yet we hold this from our predecessors,
namely that according to our books we celebrate and do reverence
to these three, namely the apostles.” Then Masters Mafeu and Marc
said: “You are Christians and we are likewise Christians.”2

1. Marco Polo, Book of the Marvels of the World 156, trans. Moule and Pelliot, 1: 349.
2. Ibid., 1: 350. About this specific passage of the work of Marco Polo, which was originally
written in Latin, see “Un texte de Marco Polo” 1928; Duvigneau 1934, 473–​83. The passages in
the work of Marco Polo that deal with Christians can be found in Moule 1930, 128–​43.
xi

xii Preface

“Iam per annos septingentos apud eos erat fides illa servata.” The faith of this
group—​if it really is the Christian faith, since we cannot exclude the hypo-
thesis that what is referred to here is the Jewish faith3—​would therefore go
back to the end of the sixth century. There are sporadic but important reports
of a certain continuity of the Christian presence in China, especially in the
South, between the end of the Tang dynasty (618–​907), the period on which
this study focuses, and the beginning of the Yuan dynasty (1279–​1368), the
period in which the journey of the Venetian merchant travelers takes place.4
For that reason it is not entirely unreasonable, but actually quite evocative, to
introduce this study by recalling an event that takes us back to the historical
period that is the subject of this study, namely, the centuries of the first mil-
lennium during which East Syriac Christianity—​often improperly and hastily
called Nestorian5—​spread throughout Central Asia and from there to China.
I hope this work will provide a documented and helpful look at what was
not only the first stage in the history of Christianity’s dialogue with Chinese
culture but also one of the most interesting and fruitful moments in that his-
tory. For this purpose, I believe it is essential to provide a translation of the
documents that give direct witness to the first Christian presence in China
and do so in the language of that culture (Part II). These texts therefore con-
stitute the body of this book, to which the chapters preceding them serve
as a long introduction (Part I).6 I am perfectly aware that translating the
Chinese Christian texts of the Tang era is an extremely challenging endeavor.7
However, I believe it is important to embark on such a daring task for two
main reasons.
The first is that the three existing English translations of the entire corpus
of the Tang Christian literature are all defective in one way or another. P. Y.
Saeki’s translations (Saeki 1951; first edn, 1937), which for several decades

3. The book of the Psalter alone is not enough to clarify the question. Furthermore, the three
characters depicted could be the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. In the Yuan era, the
Jewish presence is also well attested in Southern China, as is shown by Chinese historical
sources, by Arabic and Persian authors, as well as by Christian writers (see Leslie [1998?], 41,
49–​52).
4. In this regard, see Pelliot 1931–​32, 1933; Wang Yuanyuan 2013a.
5. See Brock 1996. I will limit as much as possible the use of the appellation “Nestorian” in the
following pages.
6. The titles of the three chapters that make up the first part of the volume are quotations of
selected passages from the text inscribed on the 781 Xi’an Christian stele.
7. A useful introduction to this issue can be found in Deeg 2004, 2005, [2006b?], 2009.
xi

Preface xiii

have been the only reference for English-​speaking readers, are frequently
debatable and today sound obsolete. Martin Palmer’s translations (Palmer
2001) are often misleading and thus to be unconditionally avoided by those
who demand a rigorous approach to the sources. Tang Li’s translations (Tang
Li 2002) are occasionally unconvincing. Moreover, these works do not in-
clude translations of the most recent archaeological findings and were unable
to benefit from the most recent documentary research and contemporary
philological studies.
The second reason is that the past translations into several different
languages often show a partial and unacceptable approach to the sources.
Some interpret the texts one-​sidedly through a Christian lens, thus overly
“Christianizing” their meaning and disregarding the cultural and religious
references to the Chinese context in which they were shaped. Others interpret
the texts one-​sidedly through a Buddhist or Daoist lens, thus overestimating
the Chinese cultural and religious “garment” of the texts and underestimating
their original Christian contents. While my translations have benefited from
the existing translations,8 they are intended to offer new, more balanced
interpretations of the texts. These interpretations take into account the
background, mindset, and supposed intentions of the Christian authors in
transmitting their message to their Chinese audience. They also suggest how
the recipients who lived in the particular time and place that was Tang China
were affected by the linguistic and ideological resources the authors drew
upon, namely the Chinese language and the Buddhist, Daoist, and Confucian
religious codes. To make my intentions clear, these new translations are
accompanied by copious notes to help readers understand concepts, images,
and expressions taken from the Chinese cultural and religious world, and also
to indicate more or less direct references to Christian sources.
The Sino-​Christian texts that have survived from this early period, albeit
few in number, are extremely precious because they testify to Christianity’s
welcoming reception of the expressive forms of the Chinese cultural and reli-
gious world. As has been said,

The survival of Christian texts in Chinese from the Tang period

demonstrates that the Nestorian Church in Tang China was conscious

8. These translations are indicated in the bibliography of this volume by putting them in square
brackets at the end of the works in which they appear. For instance, “[trans. A]” at the end of
the entry Xu Longfei 2004 means that this work contains a translation, in this case German, of
the Xi’an Christian stele of 781 (Text A).
xvi

xiv Preface

of its missionary duty, and its story therefore has an intrinsic interest
which is lacking in the case of the later mission. It is a story of the
meeting of two profoundly dissimilar cultures. . . . Although they
failed to make a significant impact on Chinese ways of thought, the
Nestorians in Tang China . . . at least tried to communicate with the
Chinese among whom they lived.9

In the pages immediately preceding the translation of the texts (Chapter 3),
I describe their form and content, highlighting and analyzing the most orig-
inal elements and summarizing what published studies say about the origin of
these documents and how they were discovered.
The documents, however, can only be read against the background of the
historical and political events that the Christian communities experienced in
the Chinese Tang Empire. Therefore, the preceding chapter (Chapter 2) offers
a summary of the historical data that have come down to us and are attested
to by the sources, together with my attempt to reconstruct the locations, or-
ganization, and denominations of Christianity in China between about 635
and 845.
Finally, I did not think it possible to isolate Tang Christianity in China from
the place it originated, with which the Chinese periphery always maintained
close ties. The Christian presence in China is in fact the point of arrival of
the Church of the East’s long process of expansion along the Silk Road from
Persia, where it began, throughout Central Asia. For this reason I thought it
useful to introduce a further chapter (Chapter 1) in which I briefly describe
the extraordinary missionary dynamism of the Church of the East from the
Middle to the Far East, presenting the archaeological and literary findings
we possess and focusing on how East Syriac Christianity—​significantly de-
fined as “a Christianity of mission and cultural mediation”10—​entered into
dialogue with the religious traditions of Manichaeism, Zoroastrianism, and
Buddhism encountered on the caravan routes of Central Asia.
This, in short, is the structure of the book, which deliberately does not
end with a conclusion. The objective of this work is not to determine whether
or not the encounter between Christianity and ancient Chinese culture
described and evaluated in the following pages is a model for a truly Chinese
Christianity. I hope that scholars in fields such as missiology and intercultural

9. Wilmshurst 1990, 49.

10. See Camplani 2011.
xv

Preface xv

dialogue will find in this introductory study source material for developing
new reflections. Their insights will undoubtedly echo the numerous questions
that are raised by the dialogue between Christianity and Asian cultures and
religions and that today are perhaps being addressed more consciously than
they were in the past. I am convinced that the experience of Christians in the
Tang period can stimulate contemporary theologians, particularly in China,
to formulate a Sino-​Christian theology, one that speaks a language that is
genuinely Chinese.11
Some difficulties may be encountered in reading this book because of
references to unfamiliar historical events within which Tang Christianity
is located, the frequent use of terms in Asian languages (Syriac, Persian,
Sogdian, Chinese, and Sanskrit), the cultural distance of the language used
in the documents translated here, or the repeated references within these
documents to philosophical and religious traditions which, despite studies
that have been done on Chinese Buddhism, Daoism, and Confucianism, re-
main relatively unfamiliar in much of the West.
I hope, however, that curiosity, a willingness to listen, and a desire for
knowledge and encounter (and therefore of empathy) will enable readers to
surmount these difficulties. That same feeling of empathy, after all, was what
prompted the Venetian merchants who traveled at the end of the thirteenth
century to recognize their Chinese brothers, convinced that they were the
heirs of the ancient East Syriac Christian tradition: “Vos estis christiani et
nos sumus similiter christiani,” said Marco and Maffeo to the Christians of
Fuzhou. May this same feeling of empathy also be shared by those who now set
out with me along the route of the “Luminous Way” in the first millennium.12

11. See Vermander [2006?].

12. The expression “luminous way” or “brilliant path” (mingdao 明道), which provides the title
for this volume, is contained in the Book on Profound and Mysterious Blessedness (Zhixuan anle
jing), where it refers to the Christian teaching (Text E, col. 149, p. 296).
xvi
xvi

Abbreviations

AoF Altorientalische Forschungen

BCP Bulletin Catholique de Pékin
BSOAS Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies
BTT Berliner Turfantexte (Turnhout: Brepols, 1971–​)
CSCO Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium (Louvain: various im­
prints, 1903–​)
DF Dao Feng: Jidujiao wenhua pinglun 道風：基督教文化評論 [Logos &
Pneuma: Chinese Journal of Theology]
DJ Dunhuangxue jikan 敦煌学辑刊 [Dunhuang Studies]
DMTC Gunner Mikkelsen, Dictionary of Manichaean Texts, vol. 3.4: Texts from
Central Asia and China: Dictionary of Manichaean Texts in Chinese.
Corpus Fontium Manichaeorum; Subsidia 5 (Turnhout: Brepols, 2006)
DOT Charles O. Hucker, A Dictionary of Official Titles in Imperial China
(Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1985)
DTY Dunhuang Tulufan yanjiu 敦煌吐魯番研究 [ Journal of the Dunhuang
and Turfan Studies]
EIr Encyclopaedia Iranica, edited by Ehsan Yarshater et al. (London et al.:
Routledge & Kegan Paul et al., 1982–​)
EIr Online Encyclopaedia Iranica, online edition (<http://​www.iranic​aonl​ine.org/​>),
edited by Ehsan Yarshater et al. (New York: Columbia University, Center
for Iranian Studies, 1996–​)
HdO Handbuch der Orientalistik (Leiden: Brill, 1952–​)
HX Huaxue 華學 [Sinology]
JA Journal Asiatique
LM Le Muséon
MS Monumenta Serica
OC Oriens Christianus
OCP Orientalia Christiana Periodica
OPOe Orientalia-​Patristica-​Oecumenica (Münster: LIT, 2009–​)
PG Patrologia Graeca, 166 vols., edited by J.-​ P. Migne (Paris: Garnier,
1857–​66)
xvi

xviii Abbreviations

PO Patrologia Orientalis (Paris: Firmin-​Didot, 1903–​66; Turnhout: Brepols, 1968–​)

POC Proche-​Orient Chrétien
SC Sources Chrétiennes (Paris: Éditions du Cerf, 1942–​)
Sk. Sanskrit
SRS Silk Road Studies (Turnhout: Brepols, 1997–​)
StIr C Studia Iranica: Cahier (Louvain: Peeters, 1982; Paris: Association pour
l’avancement des études iraniennes, 1984–​)
SZY Shijie zongjiao yanjiu 世界宗教研究 [Studies in World Religions]
T Taishō shinshū daizōkyō 大正新修大藏經 [The Buddhist Canon: New
Compilation of the Taishō Era], 85 vols., edited by Takakusu Junjirō 高楠
順次郎 and Watanabe Kaikyoku 渡邊海旭 (Tokyo: Issaikyō kankōkai,
1924–​32)
TP T’oung Pao
TY Tang yanjiu 唐研究 [ Journal of Tang Studies]
WB Wenbo 文博 [Relics and Museology]
WS Wenshi 文史 [Letters]
XY Xiyu yanjiu 西域研究 [Western Regions Studies]
ZLJ Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo jikan 中央研究院歷史語言
研究所集刊 [Bulletin of the Institute of History and Philology, Academia
Sinica]
ZWL Zhonghua wenshi luncong 中華文史論叢 [Collection of Essays on Chinese
Literature and History]
* collated text
xi

Revised and enlarged English edition of the Italian original:

La via radiosa per l’oriente: I testi e la storia del primo
incontro del cristianesimo con il mondo culturale e religioso
cinese (secoli VII–​IX), Magnano: Edizioni Qiqajon, 2006.
The translation has been funded by the Yoga Science Foundation
(Ashland, OR).
x
1

PA RT I

A History of Encounters
 2
Figure 1.1 Map of the Near East, Central Asia, and the Far East.
3

“The Luminous Breeze

Blew Eastward”
The Church of The East From Persia
To China

The Missionary Dynamism of the Church of the East

It would be an attractive undertaking for the historian to be
able to follow in the footsteps of those heralds of the Gospel, who
went forth from Antioch with firmness and tenacity in those
early days making their way to the East . . . building new centers
of Christian irradiation, creating communities and spreading
the doctrine of Jesus everywhere.1
The interest would certainly grow if we were familiar with the challenges
faced by these first evangelizers on their way to the Far East. Gaining that
knowledge, however, is no easy task.

Christ’s teaching had to cover immense distances on its road from

Antioch towards the East. . . . The details of this diffusion, however,
remain obscure. There are no Acts of the Apostles, no Letters of Saint
Paul, no contemporary or near-​contemporary documents that might
tell us how and when Christianity from the region of the Euphrates
and the Tigris crossed over the mountainous regions of the Orient,
how through Media and Parthia it went south to Herat and Segestan,
and how it penetrated eastward, crossing the Margiana (Merv), into

1. Messina 1932, 535.

The Luminous Way to the East. Matteo Nicolini-​Zani, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2022.
DOI: 10.1093/​oso/​9780197609644.003.0001
4

4 A History of Encoun t er s

the region of the Oxus and the Jaxartes, and finally how it entered
today’s Russian province of Semireč’e, then Turfan, and then further
south into the heart of China.2

For a number of reasons that will emerge in the course of this discussion,
the Christianity that flourished in China in the first millennium cannot be
studied apart from its Middle Eastern origin and its expansion throughout
Central Asia. Here, then, is the itinerary that I will follow as I trace the
footsteps of the missionaries of the Church of the East and give a brief intro-
duction to the presence of Christianity “into the heart of China.”3
To begin with, we must go, if only briefly, to the origin of this process, to
the starting point of that “Luminous Way” that will cross the whole of Asia,
enriching its cultural and spiritual traditions, but also—​and perhaps even
more—​being enriched by them. This starting point is the territory in which a
Syriac expression of Christianity was developed very early on, a territory ge-
ographically situated between Syria, Mesopotamia, and Persia that straddled
two ethnic worlds (Semitic and Iranian), two linguistic worlds (Aramaic
and Persian), and two political worlds (the Byzantine and Persian empires),
worlds that were still strongly influenced by Hellenistic culture.
The main ecclesial body of this expansion was the Church of the East, one of
the churches of the Syriac tradition.4 Although it simply designated itself as the
Church of the East (or, more recently, the Assyrian Church of the East),5 one
of the names by which it was also known in the West was the Church of Persia,
a reference to the political affiliation of the territory where this church was in-
dependently configured from the fifth century on and where it had its center
(Seleucia-​Ctesiphon) for several centuries. It was succinctly described as follows:

The Church of the East was ecclesiastically “Persian” in that it was,

with minor exceptions, the officially recognized church of the

2. Sachau 1916, 958.

3. For a recent travel account of Christian traces along the Silk Road, see Courtois 2007.
4. For a brief historical and theological presentation of the Church of the East, I refer to
the following studies: Tisserant 1931; Le Coz 1995; Baum and Winkler 2003; Baumer 2006;
Wilmshurst 2011.
5. This definition is based on the historical-​geographical criterion by which the Christian expe-
rience matured in the territories east of the Roman Empire. When a part of this eastern church
united with Rome in 1553 (thus becoming one of the eastern Catholic churches), it became
known as the Chaldean Church, while that part of this eastern church that did not enter into
communion with Rome was referred to as the Assyrian Church.
5

The Church of the East from Persia to China 5

Sasanian Empire. The church was politically “Persian” due to the role
of Sasanian kings in the eleven synods from 410 to 775 ce. The church
was geographically “Persian” in that it was coextensive with, but not
limited to the orbit of the Sasanian Empire. The Church of the East
was only secondarily “Persian” in terms of ethnicity.6

However, this description of the Church of Persia is restrictive, since it

neglects both the incredible spread of what was the most missionary of the
eastern churches and its primitive Aramaic matrix. The cradle of the Church
of the East was the northwest region of Mesopotamia. The culture of this
borderland between two political powers, the Byzantine and Persian, was pri-
marily Semitic, but it was also influenced by Hellenistic culture. According
to the reliable account of the evangelization of Mesopotamia and Persia by
Addai, Aggai, and Mari at the end of the first and beginning of the second
century, missionaries from Antioch established Christian communities in
this region that were directly dependent on Antioch.7
That the Church of the East owes its birth to the church of Antioch has
important implications for its subsequent expansion to the Far East. Pluralist
from the beginning, the church of Antioch soon manifested itself as a mis-
sionary church (see Acts 13:1–​3). Equally decisive for its missionary vocation
was the abrupt confrontation between its primitive Semitic and Greek origins
and Persian culture, as well as its encounter with Zoroastrianism, which be-
came the dominant religious tradition of the Persian Empire, especially with
the advent of the Sasanian dynasty (226–​632).8
When Antiochene Christianity crossed the frontier of the Roman
Empire and entered Persian territory, the absence of any explicit persecu-
tion of Christians allowed it to develop rapidly. The polytheistic Parthians
(227 bce–​226 ce) were tolerant of foreign religions, thus ensuring an en-
vironment conducive to the growth of Christian communities. Even under
the rule of the new Sasanian dynasty, there was relative religious tolerance.
The Christian community continued to grow and became more organized,
even though there were occasional periods of violent persecution, especially
that of Šābuhr II between 339 and 379, those that took place in the last years
of the reign of Yazdgird I (r. 399–​421), and that of Yazdgird II (r. 439–​57)

6. Buck 1996, 54.

7. See the Acts of Mar Mari; Jullien and Jullien 2002a.
8. Remarkable, in this regard, is Panaino 2004. See also William 1996; Buck 1996.
6

6 A History of Encoun t er s

between 446 and 448.9 It should be noted that the Acts of the Syrian martyrs
include some Iranian names, which indicates that there were some Christians
of Persian origin—​or at least some Iranians who had converted from
Mazdeism—​who lost their lives during the persecutions of Šābuhr II. The
Iranization of Syriac Christianity increased in later centuries, as witnessed by
the names of Persian martyrs in the Syriac accounts of martyrdom.10
In addition, already in the second half of the third century, the deporta-
tion to Babylon and Persia of populations from the area of Syria subject to
Rome was an important factor in the implantation of Christian communities
in Persian territory. There were many Christians among the deportees, some
of whom were priests and bishops. In these various transmigrations from
the Greco-​Roman West, there were Christians who arrived in the East ei-
ther as fugitives or as deportees and who enlarged the ranks of the Christian
communities that had already been established there or founded new ones.
The Chronicle of Seʾert (early eleventh century), an important source for the
religious history of this area, notes that this was the cause of the increased
number of Christians in the region.11
As the tension between the Roman and the Sasanian empires increased, it
was all the more necessary for the East Syriac communities to become inde-
pendent. Their independence was clearly a response to political developments
and not the result of a dogmatic schism. As one historian put it, “Having
matured, Persian Christianity now becomes a national, autonomous, and
autocephalous church.”12 In doing so, it also shows the king of Persia that it
no longer has any ties to the Roman West and thus hopes to avoid future
persecution.
The fourth century can be considered the initial period of the establish-
ment of the self-​identity and full ecclesiastical autonomy of the Church of
the East. The following century marked an important stage in the evolution
of its identity and autonomy. In the short space of fifteen years three synods
took place: the Synod of Isaac (410), the Synod of Yahballaha (420), and the
Synod of Dadišoʿ (424). These three synods, which dealt with questions of
jurisdiction, ecclesiastical discipline, and liturgical customs of the Church of

9. See Becker 2014; Herman 2014b.

10. See Brock 2008, appendix, 77–​125.
11. See Chronicle of Seʾert 2, ed. and trans. Scher and Périer, PO 4.3, 220–​23.
12. Le Coz 1995, 38.
7

The Church of the East from Persia to China 7

the East, might thus be considered as the events that actually “founded” this
church.
Why, then, is there still so much talk of a “Nestorian” Church, especially
in reference to the theology of the Church of the East? The question is all the
more puzzling when we read the following statement by the East Syriac theo-
logian ʿAbdišoʿ of Nisibis (ʿAbdišoʿ bar Brika; Ebedjesus, d. 1318) in his 1298
work entitled The Pearl:

[East Syriac Christians] never changed their faith and preserved it as

they had received it from the apostles, and they are called Nestorians
unjustly, especially since Nestorius was not their patriarch and they did
not understand his language.13

To summarize a rather complex question, we could say that the

“Nestorianization” of the Church of the East took place only in the second
half of the fifth century in reaction to the Council of Ephesus (431) and the
Council of Chalcedon (451), the position of Ephesus being in opposition
to that of Nestorius (patriarch of Constantinople, r. 428–​31).14 The Church
of the East wanted to remain faithful to Antiochene theology and regarded
the Alexandrian theological position as too radical. For this same reason, the
Church of the East also opposed the Christology of the West Syriac Church,
improperly called Jacobite, from the name of its “founder” Jacob Baradaeus,
bishop of Edessa (r. 543–​78). Barṣauma, metropolitan bishop of Nisibis (d.
ca. 491–​96), was mainly responsible for this “Nestorianization.” It should also
be noted, however, that the position taken by the Church of the East with re-
gard to the Second Synod of Seleucia-​Ctesiphon in 486, which was markedly
dyophysite15 in character, should be interpreted as a response to the polit-
ical developments taking place between the Byzantine and Persian empires.16
In short, the great breaks that occurred after the councils of Ephesus and
Chalcedon were generated less by theological disagreements than by termi-
nological and cultural misunderstandings, which were in turn aggravated by
political rivalries.

13. ʿAbdišoʿ of Nisibis, The Pearl 3.4, in Mai 1825–​38, 10 (pars II): 329 (text), 354 (trans.).
14. About the theological position of Nestorius, see Dickens 2020b.
15. The term dyophysitism, whose adherents are called dyophysites, refers to the doctrine that
Jesus Christ has two natures, divine and human.
16. About the Christology of the Church of the East, see Brock 1999.
8

8 A History of Encoun t er s

Throughout the sixth century and until the Arab conquest of Persia and
the death of the last Sasanian ruler Yazdgird III (r. 632–​51), the Church of the
East was further consolidated. Internally, the catholicos Mar Aba I (r. 540–​
52) promoted a radical administrative and disciplinary reform by establishing
new rules for the spiritual and intellectual formation of the clergy, the election
of bishops, and the administration of eparchies and parishes. This reform was
accompanied by the reform of monastic life carried out by Abraham of Kaškar
(d. 586).17 The church thus became more firmly established throughout Persia
and intensified its efforts to expand outward.18
The first administrative action was the constitution of the so-​called “inte-
rior” ecclesiastical provinces. They corresponded to the great administrative
divisions of the Sasanian kingdom, which extended to present-​day Iraq and
to the regions of northwestern Iran immediately east of the Tigris. To these
were soon added the so-​called “exterior” ecclesiastical provinces, which were
created and given their own bishops in the mission territories to the East as
Christian communities continued to increase in number.
It is difficult to determine the exact number of these exterior ecclesiastical
provinces at any given period of time. Some provinces were created and then
disappeared. Others had metropolitans with multiple titles, indicating that
they had jurisdiction over more than one province. Some had two different
metropolitan centers, and still others were created for nomadic populations
and therefore, in addition to having an itinerant episcopate, did not have well-​
defined sees. In this situation of permanent evolution, it is almost impossible
to get an exact picture of the administrative organization of the Church of the
East, all the more so in the period when missionary expansion became more
intense.19
Syriac and Arabic historiographic, epistolary, and canonical sources offer
important information about these exterior ecclesiastical provinces. For ex-
ample, the canonical sources include synodal acts that are rich in informa-
tion about the administrative situation of the provinces themselves, providing
data on the dioceses, their hierarchy, and their administrative centers. From
these sources we know that between the fifth and sixth centuries, the first

17. See Chialà 2005; Jullien, Florence 2008; Van Rompay 2011.
18. Reference works on the spread of Christianity in the territory that the Syriac chronicles call
Bet Parsaye (the lands of the Persians) are the following: Labourt 1904; Fiey 1979; Chaumont
1988. Also useful are the summaries offered by Asmussen 1962; Brock 1982; Asmussen 1983;
Widengren 1984; Rist 1996; Panaino 2010; Walker 2012; Poggi 2015; Jullien, Christelle 2019.
19. See Le Coz 1995, 235.
Another random document with
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no object,’” he explained volubly, as he strutted before the party into
a noble dining-room, where a very recherché meal awaited them.
The travellers, fortified by an excellent repast, and filled with an
agreeable sense of well-being, repaired to their several chambers to
get rid of their dusty garments, and met once more in the library, and
sallied forth to see the place, Mr. West acting as guide and cicerone,
and conducting his followers as if he had been born on the premises.
The eyes of appreciative sportsmen sparkled as they took in the
miles of mountain, the forests, the extent of heather, stretching
widely to the horizon, and felt more than ever, that little West, by
Jove! knew what he was about when he asked a fellow to shoot, and
did you right well.
Besides the far-reaching mountains, there were other attractions—
a lake and boathouse, a fine garden and pleasure-ground, a tennis-
court, and—oh, joy!—a capital billiard-table. Every one expressed
their delight with the castle, the scenery, the weather, and soon
settled down to enjoy themselves in their several ways.
The twelfth of August produced a splendid bag of grouse,
surpassing even the head-keeper’s fondest prediction. Every one of
the neighbouring “quality” called of their own free will. There were
celebrated tennis-parties, and dinners at the Castle (Mr. West had
brought his own cook), and the fame of the excellent shooting went
far and near. Mr. West was jubilant; he felt a grand seigneur. Never
had he been a personage of such importance, and he actually began
to look down on his London acquaintances.
“The shooting is A1—every one knows that,” he said. “Courtenay
wants to know how I like the place?—a deuce deal better than I like
him; and Dafford writes to ask if I can give him a day or two? I’m not
very hot on Dafford. He wasn’t over and above civil, and he never
got his sister, Lady Dovetail, to call; but he’d like to make use of me
now. If I’m not good enough for him in London, he isn’t good enough
for me here. Oh no, Mr. Dafford; you don’t come to Clane Castle!”
And putting his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, Mr. West
trotted up and down his daughter’s morning-room exuberantly happy.
 Madeline was happy, too, but from other causes. The lovely
scenery, the free yet luxurious life, the entire novelty of her
surroundings, the impulsive gay-spirited gentry, the finest peasantry
in the world, with their soft brogue, wit, blarney, and dark eyes, all
enchanted her. The only little clouds upon her sky were a spirit of
discontent among her English retinue, and a certain indefinable
coolness and constraint in Laurence’s weekly letter.
 CHAPTER XVIII.
WANTED—A REASON.

The guests at the castle were, as notified in a local paper, Lady

Rachel Jenkins and Mr. Jenkins, the Honourable Mrs. Leach, Lord
Anthony Foster, Miss Pamela Pace, Miss Peggy Lumley, Captain
Vansittart, and Major Mostyn, of the Royal Sedleitz Dragoons.
The Honourable Mrs. Leach was a handsome widow, whose
income was much beneath her requirements. She was acquainted
with some colonials, who had come home in the same ship as Mr.
West, and was indebted to them for an introduction to her present
comfortable quarters. She had a smooth, slow sort of manner, a pair
of wonderfully expressive eyes—and her own little plans. It did not
suit her to walk with the guns, or join in long expeditions, entailing
wear and tear of clothes, nerves, complexion, and tissues. She much
preferred to lounge over a novel in the grounds, having breakfasted
in her own room, and would appear at teatime before the battered,
sun-burnt, sun-blistered company, a miracle of cool grace, in a
costume to correspond. And her brilliant appearance of an evening
was a pleasure that was generally looked forward to. What toilettes!
—so rich, so well-chosen and becoming! What diamonds! (Yes; but
these were the best French paste.) She made herself pleasant to
every one, especially to Mr. West, and treated Madeline almost as if
she were some fond elder sister.
Miss Pamela Pace was excessively lively—the soul of the party,
always ready to shoot, ride, or fish; to play billiards, gooseberry, or
the banjo; to dance or to act charades. She had a fund of riddles,
games, and ghost stories. Without being pretty, she was neat, smart,
and a general favourite.
Miss Lumley was her cousin and her foil—tall, fair, statuesque,
and silent. However, she was a capital tennis and billiard player, an
untiring pedestrian; and, as Lady Rachel talked enough for two
ordinary women, she made up for Miss Lumley’s shortcomings.
Lady Rachel was most anxious to get her brother settled—married
to a nice girl, such as Madeline, with a large fortune, and she
intended to forward the match in every way. She lost no opportunity
of sounding Tony’s praises to Madeline, or of plying him with
encouragement and advice. Advice, especially given as such for his
own good, he shirked, as a child does physic. He admired Miss
West. She was unaffected; there was no nonsense about her; she
was handsome and ladylike. She would accept him, of course; and
he really might do worse. He did not particularly want to marry her, or
any one; but his income, no matter how well contrived and cut, was
far too small for a man of his position. And money was a pleasant
thing.
Wound up by his anxious sister, Lord Tony had asked for and
obtained Mr. West’s permission to speak to his daughter, and now
the only thing that remained to do was to ask the young lady to ratify
the treaty. They had been nearly three weeks in Ireland, whilst this
affair was quietly brewing.
Madeline had no suspicion of her father’s wishes, or her suitor’s
intentions; such an idea would have filled her—as it subsequently did
—with horror. She liked dancing and tennis, and amusing herself as
much as other young women of her age; but the notion of any one
falling in love with her, in her new and attractive character, never
once entered her brain. Pretty speeches and compliments she
laughed at and turned aside; and it was generally mooted that the
Australian heiress was as cold as the typical iceberg, and had a
genius for administering the most crushing snubs if any one ventured
on to the borderland, yea, the very suburbs of love-making; and it
had been hinted that either there was some pauper lover in the
background, or that Miss West was waiting for a duke—English or
foreign—to lay his strawberry leaves at her feet. She thought Lord
Tony extremely plain, and rather stupid; but he was so easily
entertained, and cheery, and helped to make things go off well, that
she was glad he formed one of the party. She had seen so much of
him in London, she knew him better than any of their young men
acquaintances; and he was always so good-tempered, so
unassuming, and so confidential, that she entertained quite a sisterly
regard for him.
Of Lord Anthony’s present views and intentions she had no more
idea than her pet Chinese spaniel. If he was épris with any one, it
was with the dashing Pamela, who told his fortune by cards, and
played him even at billiards; and his proposal came upon her without
any preparation, and like a bolt from the blue. The bolt fell in this
fashion, and on a certain sleepy Sunday afternoon.
Sunday at Clane had many empty hours. Mr. West was old-
fashioned, and set his face against shooting, tennis, billiards, or even
that curate’s own game—croquet. The hours after lunch were spent
in smoking, sleeping, novel-reading, devouring fruit in the big
garden, or sitting under the lime-trees. It was thus that Lord Anthony
found Madeline, surveying the misty haze of a hot August afternoon
with a pair of abstracted eyes. Mr. West had given him a hint of her
whereabouts, and that here was the hour, and he was the man!
“She is a cold, undemonstrative, distant sort of girl,” he explained.
“She has never had a fancy, that I know of” (no, certainly as yet, he
had not known of it). “She likes you, I am sure; it will be all plain
sailing.” And, thus encouraged, the suitor figuratively put to sea.
Madeline sat alone under the lime-trees in a low wicker chair,
having been deserted by Lady Rachel, who had gone to have a
comfortable snooze ere teatime.
It was a drowsy afternoon; the bees buzzed lazily over a bed of
mignonette, which sent its fragrance far and near. Madeline’s book
lay neglected in her lap. Her thoughts were far from it and Clane;
they were with a certain hard-working barrister in London, who had
written her a very rough, outspoken letter. Poor Laurence! Why could
he not wait? Why could he not have patience? He was beginning to
get on so well. She had seen a long review of one of his articles in
Tooth and Nail. He was becoming quite a literary celebrity.
And, once he was up the ladder, even a few rungs, she would not
feel the change so bitter, supposing her father was furious and
implacable. Of course it would be a change! And she sighed as she
smoothed out her cambric gown—which had cost eighteen guineas
—with a pretty, delicate hand, laden with magnificent rings. Could it
be possible that those soft white hands had ever blackened grates
and made beds and washed up plates? Oh, such greasy plates and
dishes!
“You seem to be in a day-dream, Miss West,” said Lord Anthony,
as he approached, “and all the rest of the folk have gone to sleep.”
“Have they?” she exclaimed. “Well, one cannot wonder! It is a
broiling afternoon, and, after that long sermon, you must make
allowances.”
“Oh, I’m always making allowances. I’m an easy-going sort of
fellow, you know,” and he cast himself into a well-cushioned chair. “I
want to have a little talk with you.” Hitching this chair nearer he
added, “May I?”
“Why, of course! But are we in a talking humour? Isn’t it rather
hot? Pray don’t bore yourself to entertain me! I can always amuse
myself,” and she slowly agitated her great green fan.
“Yes; I suppose you can say ‘My mind to me a kingdom is’?” he
asked, with a smile.
“I think I can,” she answered languidly.
“I wish I could say as much. My mind is a poor, barren,
unpopulated country. I should like to take a trip into your territory, and
share your pleasant thoughts, Miss West!” then suddenly spurred by
a recollection of a solemn promise to his sister, and that he was
wasting a golden opportunity, “I have something important to say to
you.”
“To say to me?” she echoed, with raised brows. “What can it be?
What makes you look so strange? You are not feeling ill, are you?”
“Ill! No; but my mind is ill at ease. Can you not form an idea why?”
leaning forward as he spoke, and looking straight into her eyes.
His look was an illumination to Madeline. But as yet she did not
think of herself; she mentally glanced at lively Pamela, with her high
spirits and low stature. She had seen her present companion carry
his rather boisterous attentions to that young lady’s shrine. She
amused him, and his loud, long laugh often resounded in her
neighbourhood. He was come to ask for her good offices; but she did
not suppose that Miss Pam would be unusually difficult to win.
“Oh, I think I have an idea now,” she murmured, with a significant
smile. “I have guessed.”
“You have?” he replied, in a tone of great relief. “And—and, may I
venture to hope?”
“I really cannot tell you. But I see no reason why you should not,”
she returned reassuringly.
“Madeline”—now moving his chair a whole foot nearer, and
suddenly taking her hand—“you have made me the happiest of
men!”
“I don’t think I quite understand you,” she replied, struggling to
withdraw her fingers, and feeling desperately uncomfortable.
“Then I must speak out more plainly. I want you to promise to be
my wife.”
For a second she stared at him as if she could not credit her ears.
Then she suddenly wrenched her fingers away, sprang to her feet,
and stood facing him with crimson cheeks.
“What do you mean? Are you—mad?” she asked sharply.
“Mad?—no!” replied her suitor, both amazed and affronted. “One
would think I was a dangerous lunatic, the way you behave. I am
quite sane, and in deadly earnest. I have your father’s good wishes,
Rachel’s good wishes——”
“My father’s good wishes!” she interrupted, her mind in a perfect
tumult at this totally unlooked-for dilemma.
“What is the matter with you, Miss West? Why are you so upset
and agitated? Am I so totally unworthy? Is there anything so
extravagantly strange in my wishing to marry you?”
 “Oh no, no!”—endeavouring to control her feelings, and not give
herself away. “But—but——” A scarlet wave rushed into her cheeks.
But what would Laurence say?
“Is it to be ‘Yes’ or ‘No’?” he pleaded.
She simply shook her head, and drew back a step or two.
He had never been so near to loving this tall pretty girl, standing
under the lime-trees with flushed, averted face, as now, when she
shook her head.
“At least you will give me reason,” he demanded, rather sulkily.
As the words left his lips he saw an odd change pass across her
face, an expression that he could not understand. It was a look half
of fear, half of contemptuous derision.
“There is no reason,” she answered quietly, “beyond the usual one
in a similar case. I do not wish to marry you.”
“And why?” he asked, after an appreciable pause.
“Well, really, I have never thought about you, Lord Anthony, but as
a pleasant acquaintance. As an acquaintance I like you very much,”
she answered, with astounding calmness. “An acquaintance—but
nothing more.” And she turned to take up her parasol.
Opposition always roused Lord Anthony; it acted as a spur. In a
short five minutes he saw everything from his sister’s point of view,
and had suddenly developed a passion for Miss West.
“Every marriage begins by an acquaintance. Perhaps in time,” he
urged—“in a few short months, my dearest Madeline——”
“I am not your ‘dearest Madeline,’ Lord Anthony,” she interrupted
quickly. “Pray consider the subject closed once for all; and
remember, for the future, that I am Miss West.”
She was getting angry with his persistency. He was getting angry
with her persistency.
There ensued a long silence, unbroken by speech. And at last he
said—
 “There is some other fellow, of course. You are engaged already.”
“I am not. Oh, Pamela, I did not see you”—as that vivacious young
lady suddenly came upon the scene with a strong escort of dogs.
From her window she had noted the conference, and had hastily
descended in order to discover what it might portend. A proposal!
Well, if he had proposed, he had not been accepted, she remarked
to herself complacently.
They both looked confused and ill at ease. Evidently they had
been quarrelling. Lord Anthony was ridiculously red, and Madeline
was white as a sheet.
“How delightfully cool and comfortable you two look!” she
mendaciously ejaculated, sinking into Madeline’s chair with a gesture
of exhaustion. “This is quite the nicest place, under these motherly
old trees. I’ve been trying to sleep, but it did not come off. I was
driven quite frantic by a diabolical bluebottle, that would not keep
away from my face.”
“I’m sure I don’t wonder,” said Lord Anthony, who was recovering
his good temper, which was never lost for long.
“And so I came out. You will have tea here, Maddie, won’t you, like
a duck?”
“I’m not sure that ducks care for tea,” rejoined Madeline. “Their
weakness is snails. But I’ll run in and order it. It must be after five.”
And in another minute her tall white figure was half-way to the castle,
and Miss Pamela and Lord Anthony were alone.
Both were eager to question the other in a delicate, roundabout
way. Strange to say, the man got out his query first. Throwing himself
once more into a chair, and crossing his legs, he said—
“Girls know girls and their affairs, as men know men, and are up to
their little games. Now, you saw a lot of Miss West in town. Same
dressmaker, same dentist, same bootmaker. Look here, now; I want
to know something.” And he bent over and gazed into Miss Pam’s
pale little dancing eyes.
 “I am quite at your service,” she answered smilingly. “Her waist is
twenty inches. She takes a longer skirt than you would think. She
has no false teeth, and only a little stuffing in one back molar. Her
size in shoes is fours.”
“Bosh! What do I care about her teeth and her shoes? I want to
know—and I’ll do as much for you some day—if Miss West has any
hanger-on—any lover loafing round? Of course I know she had
heaps of Johnnies who admired her. But did she seem sweet on
them? ‘Lookers-on see most of the game.’”
“Yes, when there is any game to see,” retorted the young lady. “In
this case there was none. Or, if there was, it was double dummy.”
“No one?” he said incredulously.
“No one,” she answered. “She talks like an old grandmother, who
has been through every phase of life; talks in the abstract, of course.
She has never, as far as I know, and in the language of romance,
‘smiled on any suitor.’”
“Most extraordinary!” muttered Lord Anthony. “A new woman who
bars men. However, there is always the one exception; and, by
George”—to himself—“I’ll have another try!”
 CHAPTER XIX.
A DISAGREEABLE INTERVIEW.

“Well!” said Mr. West, when he found himself alone in the smoking-
room with Lord Anthony. How much can be expressed in that
exclamation.
“It was not well, sir. She will have nothing to say to me. I had no
luck.”
“Do you mean with Maddie?” exclaimed her father, in a tone of
fretful amazement.
“Yes. I had a long talk with her, and she won’t have anything to say
to me!”
“What—what reason did she give you?” demanded Mr. West.
“What reason, I say?”
“None, except that she did not wish to marry me; and she seemed
to think that reason enough.”
“And did you not press her?”
“It was of no use; but, all the same, I intend to try again—that is, if
there is no one else, and Miss West has no attachment elsewhere.”
“Attachment elsewhere? Nonsense!” irritably. “Why, she was at
school till I came home—till she met me on the steamer with her
governess! You saw her yourself; so you may put that out of your
head. She’s a mere girl, and does not know her own mind; but I
know mine, and if she marries to please me, I’ll settle forty thousand
pounds on her on her wedding day, and allow her five thousand a
year. It’s not many girls in England who have as much pinned to their
petticoat; and she will have considerably more at my death. If you
stick to Maddie, you will see she will marry you eventually. She
knows you, and is getting used to you—coming in and out in London;
and you have a great pull over other men, staying here in the same
house, with lots of wet days perhaps!”
The following morning Madeline was sent for by her father. He felt
that he could speak with more authority from the ’vantage ground of
the hearthrug in his own writing-room; and after breakfast was the
time he selected for the audience. Evidently Madeline had no idea of
what was awaiting her, for she came up to him and laid her hand
upon his arm, and gave him an extra morning kiss.
“I suppose it’s about this picnic to the Devil’s Pie-dish?” she
began.
In no part of the world has the devil so much and such a various
property as in Ireland—glens, mountains, bridges, punch-bowls, bits,
ladders—there is scarcely a county in which he has not some
possessions—and they say he is a resident landlord.
Mr. West propped himself against the mantelpiece and surveyed
her critically. She was certainly a most beautiful creature—in her
parent’s fond eyes—and quite fitted to be sister-in-law to a duke.
“It’s not about the picnic; that must be put off, the day has broken.
It’s something far more important. Ahem!” clearing his throat. “What’s
all this about you and Foster?”
“Why?” she stammered, colouring deeply, and struck by a peculiar
ring in his voice.
“Why?” impatiently. “He tells me that he proposed to you
yesterday, and you refused him point-blank; and now, in my turn, I
ask why?”
Madeline was silent. She began to feel very uncomfortable, and
her heart beat fearfully fast.
“Well, is it true?” he demanded sharply.
“Yes, quite true,” fiddling with her bangles.
“And may I know why you have said no to a highly eligible young
man, of a station far above your own, the son of a duke—a man
young, agreeable, whose name has never appeared in any flagrant
society scandal, who is well-principled and—and—good-looking—a
suitor who has my warmest approval? Come now.” And he took off
his glasses and rapped them on his thumb nail.
“I do not wish to marry,” she replied in a low voice.
“And you do wish to drive me out of my senses! What foolery, what
tommy rot! Of course, you must marry some day—you are bound to
as my heiress; and I look to you to do something decent, and to
bring me in an equivalent return for my outlay.”
“And you wish me to marry Lord Anthony?” inquired his unhappy
daughter, pale to the lips. Oh, if she could but muster up courage to
confess the truth! But she dared not, with those fiery little eyes fixed
upon her so fiercely. “Father, I cannot. I cannot, indeed!” she
whispered, wringing her hands together in an agony.
“Why?” he demanded in a hoarse, dry voice.
“Would you barter me and your money for a title?” she cried,
plucking up some spirit in her desperation, “as if I was not a living
creature, and had no feeling. I have feeling. I have a heart; and it is
useless for you to attempt to control it—it is out of your power!”
This unexpected speech took her parent aback. She spoke with
such passionate vehemence that he scarcely recognized his gay,
cool, smiling, and unemotional Madeline.
This imperious girl, with trembling hands, sharply knit brows, and
low, agitated voice, was entirely another person. This was not
Madeline, his everyday daughter. At last it dawned upon his mind
that there was something behind it all, some curious hidden reason
in the background, some secret cause for this astonishing behaviour!
Suddenly griping her arm in a vice-like grasp, as an awful possibility
stirred his inflammable spirit, he whispered through his teeth—
“Who is it?”
“Who is who?” she gasped faintly.
Ah! now it was coming. She shook as if she had the ague.
 “Who is this scoundrel, this low-born adventurer that you are in
love with? Is it the man you knew at school? Is it the damned
dancing-master, or some half-starved curate? Is it him you want to
marry? Madeline, on your oath,” shaking her in his furious
excitement and passion of apprehension, “is it him you want to
marry?” he reiterated.
Madeline turned cold, but she looked full into the enraged face, so
close to hers, and as he repeated, “On your oath, remember!” she
answered with unfaltering and distinctly audible voice, “On my oath
—no!” She spoke the truth, too! Was she not married to him already?
Oh, if her father only guessed it! She dared not speculate on the
idea! He would be worse, far worse than her worst anticipations. She
could never tell him now.
“Father, I have said ‘No,’” she continued. “Let go my hand, you
hurt me.” With the utterance of the last word she broke down and
collapsed upon the nearest chair, sobbing hysterically.
“What the devil are you crying for?” he demanded angrily. “What
I’ve said and done, I’ve done for your good. Take your own time, in
reason; but marry you shall, and a title. Foster is the man of my
choice. I don’t see what you can bring against him. We will all live
together, and, for my own part, I should like it. You go to no poorer
home, you become a lady of rank,—what more can any girl want?
Money as much as she can spend, a husband and a father who hit it
off to a T, both only too anxious to please her in every possible way,
rank, and riches; what more would you have, eh?”
“Yes, I know all that!” gasped Madeline, making a great effort to
master her agitation. She must protest now or never. “I know
everything you would say; but I shall never marry Lord Anthony, and
I would be wrong to let you think so. I like him; but, if he persists, I
shall hate him. I have said ‘No’ once; let that be sufficient for him—
and you!” Then, dreading the consequences of this rashly
courageous speech, she got up and hurried out of the room, leaving
her father in sole possession of the rug, and actually gasping for
speech, his thin lips opening and shutting like a fish’s mouth—when
the fish has just been landed. At last he found his voice.
 “I don’t care one (a big D) for Madeline and her fancies, and this
thunder in the air has upset her. A woman’s no means yes; and she
shall marry Foster as sure as my name is Robert West.” To Lord
Anthony he said, “I’d a little quiet talk with Madeline, and your name
came up. She admitted that she liked you; so you just bide your time
and wait. Everything comes to those who wait.”
To this Lord Tony nodded a dubious acquiescence. The poor
fellow was thinking of his creditors. How would they like this motto?
and how much longer would they wait?
“I told you she liked you,” pursued Mr. West consolingly—“she said
so; so you have not even to begin with a little aversion. She has set
her face against marriage; she declared she would not marry, and
what’s more—and this scores for you—she gave me her word of
honour that there was no one she wished to marry. So it’s a clear
course and no favour, and the best man wins. And remember, Tony,”
said her shrewd little parent, thumping, as he spoke, that
gentleman’s reluctant shoulder, “that I back you, and it’s a good thing
to have the father and the money on your side, let me tell you.”
Ten days went by very quietly—the calm after the storm. Mr. West
never alluded to his daughter’s foolish speech, and kissed her and
patted her on the shoulder that selfsame night, as if there had been
no little scene between them in the morning. He was waiting. Lord
Anthony, even in Madeline’s opinion, behaved beautifully. He did not
hold himself too markedly aloof, and yet he never thrust his society
upon her, or sought to have a word with her alone. He also was
waiting.
 CHAPTER XX.
NOT “A HAPPY COUPLE.”

The postponed picnic to the Devil’s Pie-dish eventually came off. It

took place on the occasion of what was called “a holiday of
obligation,” when no good Catholics are allowed to work, but must
put on their best clothes and attend Mass. As there were no keepers
or beaters available, the shooting-men meekly submitted to their
fate, and started to the mountains, for once, minus dogs and guns,
and escorting a large assortment of ladies, in a break, landau, dog-
cart, and jaunting-car. The morning was lovely; the treacherous sun
smiled upon and beguiled the party to the summit of one of the
mountains—a wild spot commanding a splendid view of river, forest,
lake, and sea—a long, long climb, but it repaid the exertion.
Luncheon was laid out in the Pie-dish, a green hollow between two
peaks, and it was there discussed with great appreciation. The
festive party sat long. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, mists began
to collect, clouds to gather; the scenery at their feet grew dimmer
and yet dimmer, the hypocritical sunshine vanished and gave way to
rain, heavy, stinging rain. There was no shelter, not for miles—not a
bush, much less a tree; but at a distance some one descried what
looked like a mound of stones, but proved to be a cottage. To this
dwelling every one ran at their utmost speed. It certainly was a
house—a little humped-back cot that seemed as if it had been in the
act of running down hill and had sat down. It consisted of a kitchen
and bedroom, and the former could scarcely contain the company,
even standing. There were one or two stools, a chest, and a chair.
The atmosphere was stifling, but “any port in a storm;” anything
sooner than the icy, cutting rain that swept the mountain. When their
eyes became accustomed to the place, it turned out that besides
smoke and hens, it contained an old woman, who sat huddled up by
the fire enjoying a pipe, and who stared stolidly and made no answer
to eager inquiries for permission to remain. She was either stone
deaf or silly, possibly both. But suddenly a barefooted girl entered,
with a creel of wet turf on her back.
“I see yees running, and yees are kindly welcome,” upsetting her
load in a corner, and shaking out her wet shawl. “The grannie, there,”
pointing, “has no English; ’tis only Irish she can spake.”
“Irish! Oh, I’d like to hear it so much!” cried Miss Pamela. “Oh, do
make her talk!” Exactly as if she were alluding to some mechanical
toy, such as a talking-doll.
“She’s not much of a talker, at all, miss—and she’s cruel old; and
so many quality coming in on her at once has a bit stunned her. I’m
sorry we are short of sates,” looking round, and proffering the turf
creel to Lady Rachel. “And I’ve no tay, but lashins of butter-milk.”
“Never mind anything, thank you,” said Mr. West, pompously; “we
have just lunched.”
“Oh, an’ is that yourself, me noble gentleman, from the castle
below! An’ ’tis proud I am to see yees. And here’s Michael for ye,” as
a tall dark countryman with long black whiskers entered, amazement
at the invasion depicted in his dark blue eyes.
“’Tis a wet day, Michael,” said Mr. West, who employed him as a
beater.
“’Tis so, yer honour.”
“Do you think it will last?” asked Madeline.
“I could not rightly say, miss; but I think not. It come on so
sudden.”
“I suppose you have been to the town to Mass?”
“Yes, sir; second Mass.”
“Did you meet any friends, Micky? Did you get a drink?” inquired
Lord Tony, insinuatingly.
“No, not to say a drink, sir.”
“Well, what?”
 “Just a taste.”
“And if you were to be treated, Mick, what would you choose?
Give it a name, now,” said Lord Tony, genially.
“Oh, whisky and porter!”
“What, together?”
“Ay. And why not? Sure, ’tis the best in many ways.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Faix! an’ with raison. If I drink porter I’m full before I’m drunk, ye
see; if I drink whisky, I’m drunk before I’m full, and both together
comes about right.”
“Michael,” cried his wife, “’tis you as ought to be dead ashamed,
talking in such a coarse, loose way before the ladies! Ye has them all
upset, so ye has.” And, to make a diversion, she darted into the
room and returned with (by way of a treat for the ladies) a baby in
her arms. It had weak, blinking, blue eyes, was wrapped in an old
shawl, and was apparently about a month old. However, it created
quite the sensation its mother had anticipated.
“Oh, Lord,” cried Mr. West, “a baby! I hate babies, though I like
small children—especially little boys! Take it away before it starts
screaming.”
“Oh, show it to me! Let me have it!” came simultaneously from
several quarters; but in each case the baby received its new friend
with a yell, and had to be promptly returned to its apologetic parent.
Several had tried their hand upon it; Miss Pam, Mrs. Leach, Miss
Lumley, and Lady Rachel had been repulsed in turn.
“Now, Maddie, let us see what way you would manage it, or if you
know which end is uppermost!” said Lady Rachel, taking the child
from its mother, and laying it in Madeline’s arms.
After a storm a calm! The irritable infant was actually quiet at last,
and glared at his new nurse in silence; and whilst Madeline hushed it
and rocked it, and talked to it in a most approved fashion, the
delighted mother and granny looked on with grateful surprise. And
then the old lady made some loud remark in Irish, and pointed her
pipe at Madeline.
“What does she say? Oh, do tell us?” cried Miss Pamela,
excitedly. “Do—do, please!”
“Oh, miss dear, I—I—faix, then I couldn’t!”
“’Tis no harm whatever,” broke in Michael, with a loud laugh.
“Then out with it!” commanded Mr. West from a corner, where he
was sitting on a kist, swaying his little legs high above the ground,
and fully expecting to hear some pleasant Irish compliment about his
daughter doing everything well.
“She says the lady has such a wonderful knack, that she must
have had great practice entirely, and ’tis a married woman she is,
with a baby of her own!”
This was not the description of speech that Mr. West or any one
expected. He frowned heavily, looked extremely displeased, and
growled out, “I think the old hag in the corner has been having some
of your brew, Michael,” whilst the rest of the party set up a sudden
buzz of talking, to hide the unfortunate remark of the venerable semi-
savage.
Poor Miss West! No one ventured to look at her save Lord Tony.
She had bent her face over the baby, and her very forehead was
crimson.
The captious weather now made a diversion; it was going to clear.
People began to shake their capes and hats, to fumble for their
gloves. Mrs. Leech—it was well there was no looking-glass, for every
one was more or less damp and dishevelled—felt her faultless fringe
was perfectly straight, her feathers in a sort of pulp, thanks to the
torrents upon a Kerry mountain. The torrents had ceased entirely,
the deceitful sun was shining, and once more the picnicers sallied
forth, not sorry to breathe a little fresh air. Mr. West had placed half a
crown in Mrs. Riordan’s hand, and received in return many
blessings; but his daughter had pressed a whole sovereign into the
infant’s tiny palm, ere she followed her father and guests over the
threshold.
 And now to get home! The short grass was damp, noisy rivulets
trickled boastfully after the rain, but the mountains and low country
looked like a brilliant, freshly painted scene: the hills were gay with
gorse, cranberries, and bright purple heather, and dotted with sheep
and little black cattle. The party now descended two and two—Lord
Tony and Madeline the last. He was really in love with this pretty tall
girl who walked beside him, with a deer-stalker cap on her dark hair,
a golf-cape over her graceful shoulders, and a lovely colour, the
result of rain and wind, in her charming face. The rain and wind had
but enhanced her beauty. Yes; they would get on capitally; she would
be not only a wife to be proud of, but a bonne camarade, ever gay,
quick-witted, and good-tempered; a capital hostess and country
gentleman’s helpmate. How well she got over the ground, how
nimbly she scaled the stiles, and climbed the loose walls without
bringing down half a ton of stones. Here was another opportunity:
speak he would. Gradually and clumsily he brought the subject
round to the topic nearest his heart. His speech was half uttered,
when she interrupted him, saying—
“Lord Anthony, I like you very much as a friend——”
“You need not offer me platonic friendship, because I won’t have it,
and I don’t believe in it. No,” he began impetuously. “And if you like
me, I am quite content.”
“Stop! Please let me finish. I like you so much, that I am going to
tell you a great secret.”
“You are engaged to be married?” he exclaimed.
“No; I am married already.”
Lord Tony halted. She also came to a full stop, and they looked at
one another in expressive silence.
She was wonderfully cool, whilst he was crimson with
astonishment; his eyes dilated, his mouth quivered, his lower lip
dropped.
“You are joking!” he gasped out at last.
“No; indeed I am not.”