A fictional conversation between Emperor Constantine and his mother. Constantine put off baptism until close to his death.
‘’We’ll start again. We’ll have an entirely new deal.” “My son, there is only one way in which things can be made new.” “I know what you mean,” said Constantine. He looked calculating; suddenly the politician. “Everyone is always hinting at it. Baptism. Fausta used positively to nag me about Baptism; even Constantia. “Damn it,” he added in a burst of indignation. “Constantia is all right, isn’t she? I’ve done nothing to her, have I? And yet they compare me to Nero. Would he have left her safe and smiling?” “Not smiling, Constantine.” “Well, she ought to be. She had a very narrow squeak, I can tell you. But that’s typical. No gratitude anywhere. Why isn’t Constantia smiling?” Helena said nothing and Constantine repeated furiously: “Why isn’t Constantia smiling? I’ll have her here and make her smile. I’ll… Mother, am I mad?” Helena still said nothing. After a pause Constantine said: “Let me tell you about my Moods, as they call them. Let me explain why it is so fatuously unfair to compare me to Nero. Let me explain exactly, once and for all, about my Moods. I want you to understand. “Nero had moods. I’ve read about them. He was a beastly person—a neurotic aesthete. He positively enjoyed destroying things and seeing people suffer. I’m just opposite. All I live for is other people—teaching them, keeping them out of mischief, putting up buildings for them. Look what I’ve done even here in Rome. Look at the churches and the endowments. Do I have favorites? I haven’t even a friend. Do I give orgies? Do I dance and sing and get tipsy? Do I ever enjoy myself at all in any way? I should think my receptions are about the dullest parties ever given on the Palatine. I just work. Sometimes I feel as though the whole world had come to a standstill except for myself; as though everyone were just gaping, waiting for me to do something for them. They’re scarcely human beings; just things , in the way, in the wrong place, that have to be moved and put to use or thrown away. Nero thought he was God. A most blasphemous and improper idea. I know I am human. In fact, I often feel that I am the only real human being in the whole of creation. And that’s not pleasant at all, I can assure you. Do you understand at all, Mother?” “Oh, yes, perfectly.” “What is it, then?” “Power without Grace,” said Helena. “Now you are going to start nagging about Baptism again.” “Sometimes,” Helena continued, “I have a terrible dream of the future. Not now, but presently, people may forget their loyalty to their kings and emperors and take power for themselves. Instead of letting one victim bear this frightful curse they will take it all on themselves, each one of them. Think of the misery of a whole world possessed of Power without Grace.” “Yes, yes. That’s all very well, but why should I be the victim?” “We talked of it years ago—do you remember?—when you were on your way to Britain to your father. I have always remembered your words. You said: ‘If I wish to live, I must determine to rule.’ ” “And that is true today.” “But not without Grace, Constantine.” “Baptism . It always comes back to that in the end. Well, I’m going to be baptized, never fear. But not yet. In my own time. I’ve got other things to do before that. You do truly believe, don’t you, in all the priests say?” say that once you are converted, properly, you can never sin again. I know that’s not true. You’ve only got to look round you to see that it’s not. Look at Fausta. But Baptism, just for the moment, washes away all the sins of your life, doesn’t it? That’s what they say. That’s what we believe, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “You start again, quite new, quite innocent, like a newborn child. But next minute you can fall into sin again and be damned to all eternity. That’s good doctrine, isn’t it? Well, then, what does the wise man do—the man in a position like mine where it’s impossible not to commit a few sins every now and then? He waits. He puts it off till the very last moment. He lets the sins pile up blacker and heavier. It doesn’t matter. They’ll be washed away in Baptism, the whole lot of them, and then all he has to do is to stay innocent, just for a very short time, just to hold the devil at bay for a week or two, perhaps a few hours only. It shouldn’t be too difficult. That’s strategy, you see. I’ve got it all planned.’’
From 'Helena' by Evelyn Waugh 1950
‘’We’ll start again. We’ll have an entirely new deal.” “My son, there is only one way in which things can be made new.” “I know what you mean,” said Constantine. He looked calculating; suddenly the politician. “Everyone is always hinting at it. Baptism. Fausta used positively to nag me about Baptism; even Constantia. “Damn it,” he added in a burst of indignation. “Constantia is all right, isn’t she? I’ve done nothing to her, have I? And yet they compare me to Nero. Would he have left her safe and smiling?” “Not smiling, Constantine.” “Well, she ought to be. She had a very narrow squeak, I can tell you. But that’s typical. No gratitude anywhere. Why isn’t Constantia smiling?” Helena said nothing and Constantine repeated furiously: “Why isn’t Constantia smiling? I’ll have her here and make her smile. I’ll… Mother, am I mad?” Helena still said nothing. After a pause Constantine said: “Let me tell you about my Moods, as they call them. Let me explain why it is so fatuously unfair to compare me to Nero. Let me explain exactly, once and for all, about my Moods. I want you to understand. “Nero had moods. I’ve read about them. He was a beastly person—a neurotic aesthete. He positively enjoyed destroying things and seeing people suffer. I’m just opposite. All I live for is other people—teaching them, keeping them out of mischief, putting up buildings for them. Look what I’ve done even here in Rome. Look at the churches and the endowments. Do I have favorites? I haven’t even a friend. Do I give orgies? Do I dance and sing and get tipsy? Do I ever enjoy myself at all in any way? I should think my receptions are about the dullest parties ever given on the Palatine. I just work. Sometimes I feel as though the whole world had come to a standstill except for myself; as though everyone were just gaping, waiting for me to do something for them. They’re scarcely human beings; just things , in the way, in the wrong place, that have to be moved and put to use or thrown away. Nero thought he was God. A most blasphemous and improper idea. I know I am human. In fact, I often feel that I am the only real human being in the whole of creation. And that’s not pleasant at all, I can assure you. Do you understand at all, Mother?” “Oh, yes, perfectly.” “What is it, then?” “Power without Grace,” said Helena. “Now you are going to start nagging about Baptism again.” “Sometimes,” Helena continued, “I have a terrible dream of the future. Not now, but presently, people may forget their loyalty to their kings and emperors and take power for themselves. Instead of letting one victim bear this frightful curse they will take it all on themselves, each one of them. Think of the misery of a whole world possessed of Power without Grace.” “Yes, yes. That’s all very well, but why should I be the victim?” “We talked of it years ago—do you remember?—when you were on your way to Britain to your father. I have always remembered your words. You said: ‘If I wish to live, I must determine to rule.’ ” “And that is true today.” “But not without Grace, Constantine.” “Baptism . It always comes back to that in the end. Well, I’m going to be baptized, never fear. But not yet. In my own time. I’ve got other things to do before that. You do truly believe, don’t you, in all the priests say?” say that once you are converted, properly, you can never sin again. I know that’s not true. You’ve only got to look round you to see that it’s not. Look at Fausta. But Baptism, just for the moment, washes away all the sins of your life, doesn’t it? That’s what they say. That’s what we believe, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “You start again, quite new, quite innocent, like a newborn child. But next minute you can fall into sin again and be damned to all eternity. That’s good doctrine, isn’t it? Well, then, what does the wise man do—the man in a position like mine where it’s impossible not to commit a few sins every now and then? He waits. He puts it off till the very last moment. He lets the sins pile up blacker and heavier. It doesn’t matter. They’ll be washed away in Baptism, the whole lot of them, and then all he has to do is to stay innocent, just for a very short time, just to hold the devil at bay for a week or two, perhaps a few hours only. It shouldn’t be too difficult. That’s strategy, you see. I’ve got it all planned.’’
From 'Helena' by Evelyn Waugh 1950
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