 | Probus, or, Rome in the third century |  |
LETTER X.
FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.
I write to you, Fausta, by the hands of Vabalathus,
who visits Palmyra on his way to his new kingdom. I
trust you will see him. The adversities of his family
and the misfortunes of his country have had most useful
effects upon his character. He has, though the time
has been so short, done much to redeem himself. Always
was he indeed vastly superior to his brothers;
but now, he is not only that, but very much more.
Qualities have unfolded themselves, and affections and
tastes warmed into life, which we none of us I believe
so much as suspected the existence of. Zenobia has
grown to be devotedly attached to him and to repose
the same sort of confidence in him as formerly in Julia.
All this makes her the more reluctant to part with him;
but as it is for a throne, she acquiesces. He carries
away from Rome with him one of its most beautiful
and estimable women — the youngest daughter of the
venerable Tacitus — to whom he has just been married.
In her you will see an almost too favorable specimen of
Roman women.
Several days have elapsed since I wrote to you, giving
an account of the sufferings and death of the Christian
Macer — as I learned them from those who were
present — for a breach of the late edicts, and for sacrilegiously,
as the laws term it, tearing down the parchment
capitol. During this period other horrors of the same
kind have been enacted in different parts of the city.
Macer is not the only one who has already paid for his
faith with his life. All the restraints of the law seem
to be withdrawn, not confessedly, but virtually, and the
Christians in humble condition — and such for the most
part we are — are no longer safe from violence in the
streets of Rome. Although, Fausta, you believe not
with us, you must scarcely the less for that pity us in
our present straits. Can the mind picture to itself in
some aspects of the case a more miserable lot? Were
the times even at the worst so full of horror in Palmyra
as now here in Rome? There, if the city were given
up to pillage, the citizen had at least the satisfaction of
dying in the excitement of a contest, and in the defence
of himself and his children. Here the prospect is — the
actual scene is almost arrived and present — that all the
Christians of Rome will be given over to the butchery,
first of the Prefect's court, and others of the same character
established throughout the city for the exprss
purpose of trying the Christians — and next, to that of
the mob commissioned with full powers to search out,
find, and slay all who bear the hated name. The
Christians, it is true, die for a great cause. In that
cause they would rather die than live. But still death
is not preferred — much less is death, in the revolting
and agonizing form which chiefly these voluntary executioners
choose, to be viewed in any other light than
an evil too great almost to be endured.
It would astonish you I think, and give you conceptions
of the power of this religion such as you have
of these thousand Christian families, and behold
the calmness and the fortitude with which they await
the approaching calamities. There is now as they believe
little else before them but death — and death such
as a foretaste has been given of in the sufferings of Macer.
Yet are they, with wonderfully few exceptions,
here in their houses prepared for whatever may betide,
and resolved that they will die for him unto whom they
have lived. This unshrinking courage, this spirit of
self-sacrifice, is the more wonderful as it is now the received
belief that they would not forfeit their Christian
name or hope by withdrawing, before the storm bursts,
from the scene of danger.
There have been those in the church, and some there
are now, who would have all who in time of persecution
seek safety in flight or by any form of compromise, visited
with the severest censures the church can inflict,
and forever after refused readmission to the privileges
which they once enjoyed. Paying no regard to
the peculiar temperament and character of the individual,
they would compel all to remain fixed at their
post, inviting by a needless ostentation of their name
and faith the search and assault of the enemy. Macer
was of this number. Happily they are now few: and
the Christians are left free — free from the constraint of
any tyrant opinion, to act according to the real feeling
of the heart. But does this freedom carry them away
from Rome? Does it show them to the world hurryrying
in crowds by day, or secretly flying by night,
from the threatened woes? Not so. All who were
here when these troubles first began, are here now, or
could wish. All who have resorted to me under these
circumstances for counsel or aid have I advised, if flight
be a possible thing to them, that they should retreat
with their children to some remote and secluded spot,
and wait till the tempest shall have passed by. Especially
have I so advised and urged all whom I have
known to be of a sensitive and timid nature, or bound
by ties of more than common interest and necessity to
large circles of relatives and dependents. I have aimed
to make them believe, that little gain would accrue to
the cause of Christ from the addition of them and their's
to the mass of sufferers — when that mass is already so
large; whereas great and irreparable loss would follow
to the community of their friends and of the Christians
who should survive. They would do an equal service
to Christ and his church by living, and on the first appearance
of calmer times reassuming their Christian
name and profession, and being a centre about which
there might gather together a new multitude of believers.
If still the enemies of Christ should prevail, and a
day of rest never dawn nor arise, they might then, when
hope was dead, come forth and add themselves to the
innumerable company of those born of Heaven, who
hold life and all its joys and comforts as dross in comparison
with the perfect integrity of the mind. By such
statements have I prevailed with many. Probus too
has exerted his power in the same direction, and has
enjoyed the happiness of seeing safely embarked for
Greece, or Syria, many whose lives in the coming years
will be beyond price to the then just-surviving church.
Yet do not imagine, Fausta, that we are an immaculate
universal to mankind, are not to be discovered in us;
that we are all, what by our acknowledged principles we
ought to be. We have our traitors and our renegades,
our backsliders, and our well-dissembling hypocrites —
but so few are they, that they give us little disquiet, and
bring no discredit upon us with the enemy. And beside
these there will now be those, as in former persecutions,
who as the day of evil approaches will, through the operation
simply of their fears, renounce their name and
faith. Of the former, some have already made themselves
conspicuous — conspicuous now by their cowardly
and hasty apostacy, as they were before by a narrow,
contentious and restless zeal. Among others, the very
one who, on the evening when the Christians assembled
in the baths by Macer's, was so forward to assail the
faith of Probus, and who ever before on other occasions,
when a display could by any possibility be made of devotion
to his party, or an ostentatious parade of his love
of Christ, was always thrusting himself upon the notice
of our body and clamoring for notoriety, has already
abandoned us and sought safety in apostacy. Others of
the same stamp have in like manner deserted us. They
are neither lamented by us nor honored by the other
party. It is said of him whom I have just spoken of,
that soon as he had publicly renounced Christ and sacrificed,
hisses and yells of contempt broke from the surrounding
crowds. He, doubtless it occurred to them,
who had so proved himself weak, cowardly, and faithless,
to one set of friends, could scarcely be trusted as
brave and sincere by those to whom he then joined himself.
There are no virtues esteemed by the Romans like
greatly in our favor. For much as they detest our superstitions,
they so honor our fortitude under suffering,
that a deep sympathy springs up almost unconsciously
in our behalf. Half of those who on the first outbreak
of these disorders would have been found bitterly hostile,
if their hearts could be scanned now or when this storm
shall have passed by, would be found most warmly with
us — not in belief, but in a fellow-feeling which is its
best preparation and almost certain antecedent. Even
in such an inhuman rabble as perpetrated the savage
murder of the family of Macer, there were thousands
who, then driven on by the fury of passion, will, as soon
as reflection returns, bear testimony in a wholly altered
feeling toward us, to the power with which the miraculous
serenity and calm courage of those true martyrs
have wrought within them. No others are now spoken
of in Rome, but Macer and his heroic wife and children.
Throughout the city it is this morning current that
new edicts are to be issued in the course of the day.
Milo, returning from some of his necessary excursions
into the more busy and crowded parts of the city, says
that it is confidently believed. I told him that I could
scarcely think it, as I had reason to believe that the Emperor
had engaged that they should not be as yet.
`An Emperor surely,' said Milo, `may change his
mind if he lists. He is little better than the rest of us
if he have not so much power as that. I think if I were
Emperor that would be my chief pleasure, to do and say
one thing to-day and just the contrary thing to-morrow,
without being obliged to give a reason for it. If there
reason. In the service of the most noble Gallienus, fifty
slaves were subject to me, and never was I known to
render a reason for a single office I put them to. That
was being nearer an Emperor than I fear I shall ever be
again.'
`I hope so, Milo,' I said. `But what reason have you
to think, if you will render a reason, that Aurelian has
changed his mind?'
`I have given proof,' answered Milo, `have I not, that
if anything is known in Rome, it is known by Curio?'
`I think you have shown that he knows some things.'
`He was clearly right about the sacrifices,' responded
Milo, `as events afterwards declared. Just as many suffered
as he related to me. What now he told me this
morning was this; “that certain persons would find
themselves mistaken — that some knew more than others
— that the ox led to the slaughter knew less than the
butcher — that great persons trusted not their secrets to
every one — emperors had their confidants — and Fronto
had his.”'
`Was that all?' I patiently asked.
`I thought, noble sir,' he replied `that it was — for
upon that he only sagaciously shook his head and was
silent. However, as I said nothing, knowing well that
some folks would die if they retained a secret, though
they never would part with it for the asking, Curio began
again, soon as he despaired of any question from
me, and said “he could tell me what was known but to
three persons in Rome.” His wish was that I should
ask him who they were, but I did not, but began a new
bargain with a man for his poultry — we were in the
you they were?” But I answered not. “Who,” he
then whispered in my ear, “but Aurelian, Fronto, and
myself!” Then I gratified him by asking what the secret
was, for if it had anything to do with the Christians
I should like to know it. “I will tell it to thee,” he said,
“but to no other in Rome, and to thee only on the promise
that it goes in at thy ear but not out at thy mouth.”
I said that I trusted that I, who had kept, I dared hardly
say how many years and kept them still, the secrets of
Gallienus, should know how to keep and how to reveal
anything he had to say. Whereupon without any more
reserve, he assured me that Fronto had persuaded the
Emperor to publish new and more severe edicts before
the sixth hour, telling him as a reason for it, that the
Christians were flying from Rome in vast numbers;
that every night — they having first passed the gates in
the day, multitudes were hastening into the country
making for Gaul and Spain, or else embarking in vessels
long prepared for such service on the Tiber — that unless
instantly arrested there would be none or few for
the edicts to operate upon, and then, when all had become
calm again, and he — Aurelian — were dead and
another less pious upon the throne, they would all return
and Rome swarm with them as before. Curio
said that when the Emperor heard this, he broke out
into a wild and furious passion. He swore by the great
god of light — which is an oath Curio says he never uses
but he keeps — that you, sir, Piso, had deceived him
— had cajoled him; that you had persuaded him to
wait and hear what the Christians had to say for themselves
before they were summarily dealt with, which he
to gain time by which all or the greater part might
escape secretly from the capital. He then, with Fronto
and the secretaries, prepared and drew up new edicts,
declaring every Christian an enemy of the state and of
the gods, and requiring them everywhere to be informed
against, and upon conviction of being Christians, to be
thrown into prison and await there the judgment of the
Emperor. These things, sir, are what I learned from
Curio, which I make no secret of, for many reasons. I
trust you will believe them, for I heard the same story
all along the streets, and mine is better worthy of belief
only because of where and whom it comes from.'
I told Milo that I could not but suppose there was
something in it, as I had heard the rumor from several
other sources; that if Curio spoke the truth, it was worse
than I had apprehended.
Putting together what was thus communicated by
Milo, and what, as he said, was to be heard anywhere
in the streets, I feared that some dark game might indeed
be playing by the priest against us, by which our
lives might be sacrificed even before the day were out.
`Should you not,' said Julia, `instantly seek Aurelian?
If what Milo has said possess any particle of truth, it is
most evident the Emperor has been imposed upon by
the lies of Fronto. He has cunningly used his opportunities:
and you, Lucius, except he be instantly undeceived,
may be the first to feel his power.'
While she was speaking, Probus, Felix, and others
of the principal Christians of Rome entered the apartment.
Their faces and their manner, and their first
words, declared that the same convinction possessed them
as us.
`We are constrained,' said Felix, `thus with little
ceremony, noble Piso, to intrude upon your privacy.
But in truth the affair we have come upon admits not of
ceremony or delay.'
`Let there be none then I pray, and let us hear at
once what concerns us all.'
`It is spread over the city,' replied the bishop, `that
before the sixth hour edicts are to be issued that will go
to the extreme we have feared — affecting the liberty
and life of every Christian in Rome. We find it hard
to believe this however, as it is in the face of what Aurelian
has most expressly stipulated. It is therefore the
wish and prayer of the Christians that you, being nearer
to him than, any should seek an interview with him,
and then serve our cause in such manner and by such
arguments as you best can.'
`This is what we desire, Piso,' said they all.
I replied, that I would immediately perform that which
they desired, but that I would that some other of our
number should accompany me. Whereupon Felix was
urged to join me; and consenting we, at the moment
departed for the palace of Aurelian.
On arriving at the gardens, it was only by urgency
that I obtained admission to the presence of the Emperor.
But upon declaring that I came upon an errand
that nearly concerned himself and Rome, I was ordered
to be brought into his private apartment.
As I entered, Aurelian quickly rose from the table at
which he had been sitting, on the other side of which
sat Fronto. None of the customary urbanity was visible
in his deportment; his countenance was dark and severe,
his reception of me cold and stately, his voice more
the presence of the priest.
`Ambassadors,' said Aurelian inclining toward us, `I
may suppose from the community of Christians.'
`We came at their request,' I replied; `rumors are
abroad through the city, too confidently reported, and
too generally credited to be regarded as wholly groundless,
yet which it is impossible for those who know Aurelian
to believe, asserting that to-day edicts are to be
issued affecting both the liberty and the lives of the
Christians —'
`I would, Piso, that rumor were never farther from
the truth than in this.'
`But,' I rejoined, `has not Aurelian said that he would
proceed against them no further till he had first heard
their defence from their own organs?'
`Is it one party only in human affairs, young Piso,'
he sharply replied, `that must conform to truth and keep
inviolate a plighted word? Is deception no vice when
it is a Christian who deceives? I indeed said that I
would hear the Christians, though, when I made that
promise, I also said that 'twould profit them nothing;
but I then little knew why it was that Piso was so urgent.'
`Truth,' I replied, `cannot be received from some
quarters, any more than sweet and wholesome water
through poisoned channels. Even, Aurelian, if Fronto
designed not to mislead, no statement passing through
his lips — if it concerned the Christians — could do so,
without there being added to it or lost from it much that
properly belonged to it. I have heard that too, which I
may suppose has been poured into the mind of Aurelian
— that the Christians have sought this delay only that
they might use the opportunities thus afforded, to escape
from his power — and that using them they have already
in the greater part fled from the capitol, leaving to the
Emperor of all the world but a few old women and children
upon whom to wreak his vengeance. How does
passion bring its film over the clearest mind! How
does the eye that will not see, shut out the light though
it be brighter than that of day! It had been wiser in
Aurelian, as well as more merciful, first to have tried the
truth of what has thus been thrust upon his credulity,
ere he made it a ground of action. True himself, he
suspects not others; but suspicion were sometimes a
higher virtue than frank confidence. Had Aurelian but
looked into the streets of Rome, he could not but have
seen the grossness of the lie that has been palmed upon
his too willing ear. Of the seventy thousand Christians
who dwelt in Rome, the same seventy thousand, less by
scarce a seventieth part, are now here within their dwellings
waiting the will of Aurelian. Take this on the
word of one whom, in former days at least, you have
found worthy of your trust. Take it on the word of the
venerable head of this community who stands here to
confirm it either by word or oath — and in Rome it
needs but to know that Felix the Christian has spoken,
to know that truth has spoken too.'
`The noble Piso,' added Felix `has spoken what all
who know aught of the affairs and condition of the
Christians know to be true. There is among us, great
Emperor, too much, rather than too little, of that courage
that meets suffering and death without shrinking. Let
upon the Christians to appear for judgment upon
their faith before the tribunals of Rome, and they will
come flocking up as do your Pagan multitudes to the
games of the Flavian.'
While we had been speaking, Fronto sat, inattentive
as it seemed to what was going on. But at these
last words he was compelled to give ear, and did it as a
man does who has heard unwelcome truths. As Felix
ended, the Emperor turned toward him without speaking
and without any look of doubt or passion, waiting
for such explanation as he might, have to give.
Fronto rose from his seat with the air of a man who
doubts not the soundness of his cause, and who feels
sure of the ear of his judge.
`I will not say, great Emperor, that I have not in my
ardor made broader the statements which I have received
from others. It is an error quite possible to have
been guilty of. My zeal for the gods is warm and ofttimes
outruns the calm dictates of reason. But if what
has now been affirmed as true, be true, it is more I believe
than they who so report can make good — or than
others can, be they friends or enemies of this tribe. Who
shall now go out into this wilderness of streets, into the
midst of this countless multitude of citizens and strangers
—men of all religions and all manners—and pick me out
the seventy thousand Christians, and show that all are
snug at home? Out of the seventy thousand is it not
palpable that its third or half may have fled, and yet it
shall be in no man's power to make it so appear — to
point to the spot whence they have departed, or to that
whither they have gone? But beside this, I must here
own gathered by my own eyes and ears that I based the
truth, now charged as error; but upon what came to me
through those in whose word I have ever placed the
most sacred trust, the priests of the temple, and more
than all my faithful servant — friend I may call him
— Curio, into whom drops by some miracle all that is
strange or new in Rome.'
I said in reply, `that it were not so difficult perhaps
as the priest has made it seem, to learn what part of the
Christians were now in Rome and what part were gone.
There are among us, Aurelian, in every separate
church, men who discharge duties corresponding to
those which Fronto performs in the Temple of the Sun.
We have our priests, and others subordinate to them,
who fill offices of dignity and trust. Beside these there
are others still who for their wealth or their worth are
known well, not among the Christians only, but the Romans
also. Of these it were an easy matter to learn
whether or not they are now in Rome. And if these
are here, who from the posts they fill would be the first
victims, it may be fairly supposed that the humbler sort
and less able to depart — and therefore safer — are also
here. Here I stand, and here stands Felix; we are
not among the missing! And we boast not of a courage
greater than may be claimed for the greater part of
those to whom we belong.'
`Great Emperor,' said Fronto, `I will say no more
than this, that this in its whole aspect bears the same
front, as the black aspersions of the wretch Macer,
whose lies, grosser than Cretan ever forged, poured in a
foul and rotten current from his swollen lips; yea,
did he still belch forth fresh torrents blacker
and fouler as they flowed longer, till death came and
took him to other tortures worse a thousand-fold — the
just doom of such as put false for true. That those
were the malignant lies I have said they are, Aurelian
can need no other proof, I hope, than that which has
been already given.'
`I am still, Fronto, as when your witnesses were here
before me, satisfied with your defence. When indeed
I doubt the truth of Aurelian, I may be found to question
that of Fronto. Piso — hold! We have heard
and said too much already. Take me not, as if I
doubted, more than Fronto, the word which you have
uttered, or that of the venerable Felix. You have said
that which you truly believe. The honor of a Piso has
never been impeached, nor as I trust can be. Yet has
there been error both here and there, and I doubt not is.
Let it be thus determined then. If upon any, blame
shall seem to rest, let it be me. If any shall be charged
with doing to-day what must be undone to-morrow, let
the burden be upon my shoulders. I will therefore recede;
the edicts, which as you have truly heard were
to-day to have been promulged, shall sleep at least another
day. To-morrow, Piso, at the sixth hour, in the
palace on the Palatine, shall Probus — if such be the
pleasure of the Christians — plead in their behalf. Then
and there will I hear what this faith is, from him, or
from whomsoever they shall appoint. And now no
more.'
With these words on the part of Aurelian, our audience
closed, and we turned away — grieving to see
should have so surrendered himself into the keeping
of another; yet rejoicing that some of that spirit
of justice that once wholly swayed him still remained,
and that our appeal to it had not been in vain.
To-morrow then, at the sixth hour, will Probus appear
before Aurelian. It is not, Fausta, because I or
any suppose that Aurelian himself can be so wrought
upon as to change any of his purposes, that we desire
this hearing. He is too far entered into this business —
too heartily, and I may add too conscientiously — to
be drawn away from it, or diverted from the great object
which he has set up before him. I will not despair,
however, that even he may be softened, and abate somewhat
of that raging thirst for our blood, for the blood of
us all, that now seems to madden him. But however
this may be, upon other minds impressions may be
made that may be of service to us either directly or indirectly.
We may suppose that the hearing of the
Christians will be public, that many of great weight
with Aurelian will be there who never before heard
a word from a Christian's lips, and who know only
that we are held as enemies of the state and its religion.
Especially, I doubt not, will many, most or all, of the
senate be there; and it is to that body I still look, as
in the last resort, able perhaps to exert a power that
may save us at least from absolute annihilation.
To-day has Probus been heard; and while others
sleep, I resume my pen to describe to you the events
of it as they have occurred.
It was in the banqueting hall of the imperial palace
defend his cause before the Emperor. It is a room of
great size and beautiful in its proportions and decorations.
A row of marble pillars adorns each longer side
of the apartment. Its lofty ceiling presents allegorically
to the eye, and in colors that can never fade, Rome
victorious over the world. The great and good of
Rome's earlier days stand around, in marble or brass,
upon pedestals or in niches sunk into the substance of
the walls. And where the walls are not thus broken,
pictures wrought upon them set before the beholder
many of the scenes in which the patriots of former days
achieved or suffered for the cause of their country.
Into this apartment, soon as it was thrown open, poured
a crowd both of Christians and Pagans, of Romans and
of strangers from every quarter of the world. There
was scarcely a remote province of the empire that had
not there its representative; and from the far East, discernible
at once by their costume, were many present,
who seemed interested not less than others in the
great questions to be agitated. Between the two central
columns upon the western side, just beneath the
pedestal of a colossal statue of Vespasian, the great military
idol of Aurelian, upon a seat slightly raised above
the floor, having on his right hand Livia and Julia, sat
the Emperor. He was surrounded by his favorite generals
and the chief members of the senate, seated, or
else standing against the columns or statues which
were near him. There too, at the side of or immediately
before Aurelian, but placed lower, were Porphyrius,
Varus, Fronto, and half the priesthood of Rome. A
centre of the room, stood Probus.
If Aurelian sat in his chair of gold, looking the omnipotent
master of all the world, as if no mere mortal
force could drive him from the place he held and
filled — Probus on his part, though he wanted all that
air of pride and self-confidence written upon every line
of Aurelian's face and form, yet seemed like one, who,
in the very calmness of an unfaltering trust in a goodness
and power above that of earth, was in perfect possession
of himself and fearless of all that man might
say or do. His face was pale; but his eye was clear.
His air was that of a man mild and gentle, who would
not injure willingly the meanest thing endowed with
life; but of a man too of that energy and inward strength
of purpose, that he would not on the other hand suffer
an injury to be done to another, if any power lodged
within him could prevent it. It was that of a man to
be loved, and yet to be feared; whose compassion
you might rely upon; but whose indignation at wrong
and injustice might also be relied upon, whenever the
weak or the oppressed should cry out for help against
the strong and the cruel.
No sooner had Aurelian seated himself, and the
thronged apartment become still, than he turned to
those who were present, and said,
`That the Christians had desired this audience before
him and the sacred senate, and he had therefore
granted them their request. And he was now here, to
listen to whatever they might urge in their behalf.
But,' said he, `I tell them now, as I have told them before,
Emperors, from Nero to the present hour, have sufficiently
declared what the light is in which a true Roman
should view the superstition that would supplant
the ancient worship of the gods. It is enough for me,
that such is the acknowledged aim and asserted tendency
and operation of this Jewish doctrine. No merits
of any kind can atone for the least injury it might inflict
upon that venerable order of religious worship
which, from the time of Romulus, has exercised over us
its benignant influences, and doubtless by the blessings
it has drawn down upon us from the gods, crowned our
arms with a glory the world has never known before —
putting under our feet every civilized kingdom from the
remotest East to the farthest West, and striking terror
into the rude barbarians of the German forests. Nevertheless
they shall be heard; and if it is from thee,
Christian, that we are to know what thy faith is, let us
now hear whatever it is in thy heart to say. There
shall no bridle be put upon thee; but thou hast freest
leave to utter what thou wilt. There is nothing of
worst concerning either Rome or her worship, her rulers
or her altars, her priesthood or her gods, but thou
mayest pour it forth in such measure as shall please
thee, and no one shall say thee nay. Now say on; the
day and the night are before thee.'
`I shall require, great Emperor,' replied Probus, `but
little of either; yet I thank thee, and all of our name
who are here present thank thee, for the free range
which thou hast offered. I thank thee too, and so do
we all, for the liberty of frank and undisturbed speech,
which thou hast assured to me. Yet shall I not use it
with anger and fierce denunciation, O Emperor, that it
becomes the advocate of what he believes to be a religion
from Heaven to assail the adherents of a religion
like this of Rome, descended to the present generation
through so many ages, and which all who have believed
it in times past, and all who believe it now, do hold to
be true and woven into the very life of the state — the
origin of its present greatness, and without which it
must fall asunder into final ruin, the bond that held it
together being gone. If the religion of Rome be false,
or really injurious, it is not the generations now living
who are answerable for its existence formerly or
now, nor for the principles, truths, or rites, which constitute
it. They have received it, as they have received
a thousand customs which are now among them, by inheritance
from the ancestors who bequeathed them, and
which they received at too early an age to judge concerning
their fitness or unfitness, but to which, for the
reason of that early reception, they have become fondly
attached, even as to parents, brothers, and sisters, from
whom they have never been divided. It becomes not
the Christian, therefore, to load with reproaches those
who are placed where they are, not by their own will,
but by the providence of the Great Ruler. Neither does
it become you of the Roman faith to reproach us for the
faith to which we adhere; because the greater proportion
of us also have inherited our religion, as you yours,
from parents and a community who professed it before
us, and all regard it as heaven-descended, and so proved
to be divine, that without inexpiable guilt we may not
refuse to accept it. It must be in the face of reason,
merciful, if either should judge harshly of the other.
`Besides, what do I behold in this wide devotion of
the Roman people to the religion of their ancestors, but
a testimony beautiful for the witness it bears to the universality
of that principle or feeling which binds the human
heart to some god or gods, in love and worship?
The worship may be wrong or greatly imperfect, and
sometimes injurious; the god or gods may be so conceived
of as to act with hurtful influences upon human
character and life; still it is religion; it is a sentiment
that raises the thoughts of the humble and toilworn
from the gross, the dull, the material, and the perishing,
to the heavenly, the invisible, the future, the immortal.
And this, though accompanied by some or many rites
shocking to humanity and revolting to reason, is better
than that men were in this regard no higher nor other
than brutes; but received their being as they do theirs,
they know not whence, and when they lose it, depart
like them, they know not and care not whither. In the
religious character of the Roman people — for religious
in the earlier ages of this empire they eminently were,
and they are religious now, though in less degree —
I behold and acknowledge the providence of God, who
has so framed us that our minds tend by resistless force
to himself; satisfied at first with low and crude conceptions,
but ever aspiring after those that shall be worthier
and worthier.
`And now, O Emperor, for the same reason that we
believe God the creator did implant in us all, of all tribes
and tongues, this deep desire to know, worship, and enjoy
him, so that no people have ever been wholly ignorant
years, declared himself to mankind more plainly than he
did in the origin of things, or than he does through our
own reason, so that men may, by such better knowledge
of himself and of all necessary truth which he has
imparted, be raised to a higher virtue on earth, and
made fit for a more exalted life in Heaven. We believe
that he has thus declared himself by him whom you
have heard named as the Master and Lord of the Christian,
and after whom they are called, Jesus Christ.
Him, God the creator, we believe, sent into the world to
teach a better religion than the world had; and to break
down and forever destroy, through the operation of his
truth, a thousand injurious forms of false religion. It is
this religion which we would extend and impart, to those
who will open their minds to consider its claims, and
their hearts to embrace its truths, when they have once
been seen to be divine. This has been our task and our
duty in Rome, to beseech you not blindly to receive, but
strictly to examine, and if found to be true, then humbly
and gratefully to adopt this new message from above —'
`By the gods, Aurelian,' exclaimed Porphyrius, `these
Christians are kindly disposed! their benevolence and
their philosophy are alike. We are obliged to them —'
`Not now, Porphyrius,' said Aurelian. `Disturb not
the Christian. Say on, Probus.'
`We hope,' continued Probus, nothing daunted by the
scornful jeers of the philosopher, `that we are sincerely
desirous of your welfare, and so pray that in the lapse
of years all may, as some have done, take at our hands
the good we proffer them; for sure we are, that would
all so receive it, Rome would tower upwards with a
more honored and beloved than now, and her roots
would strike down, and so fasten themselves in the very
centre of the earth, that well might she then be called
the Eternal City. Yet, O Emperor, though such is our
aim and purpose; though we would propagate a religion
from God, and in doing so are willing to labor our lives
long, and if need be die in the sacred cause, yet are
we charged as atheists. The name by which we are
known, as much as by that of Christian, is atheist —'
`Such I have surely believed you,' said Porphyrius,
again breaking in, `and at this moment do.'
`But it is a name, Aurelian, fixed upon us ignorantly
or slanderously; ignorantly I am willing to believe.
We believe in a God, O Emperor; it is to him we live
and to him we die. The charge of atheism I thus publicly
deny, as do all Christians who are here, as would
all throughout the world with one acclaim, were they
also here, and would all seal their testimony, if need
were, with their blood. We believe in one God; not in
many, some greater and some lesser, as with you, and
whose forms are known and can be set forth in images
and statues — but in one spiritual and invisible Being,
the sole monarch of the universe, whom no eye hath
seen or can see; whom no man, be he never so cunning,
can represent in wood or brass or stone; whom so to
represent in any imaginary shape our faith denounces
as unlawful and impious. Hence it is, O Emperor, because
the vulgar, when they enter our churches or our
houses, see there no image of god or goddess, that they
imagine we are without a God, and without his worship.
And such conclusion may in them be excused. For, till
of one infinite and spiritual God, filling Heaven
and earth with his presence. But in others, it is hard
to see how they think us atheists on the same ground,
since nothing can be plainer than that among you, the
intelligent, and the philosophers especially, believe as we
do in a great pervading invisible spirit of the universe.
Plato worshipped not nor believed in these stone or
wooden gods; nor in any of the fables of the Greek religion;
yet who ever has charged him with atheism?
So was it with the great Longinus. I see before me
those who are now famed for their science in such
things, and who are the teachers of Rome in them, yet
not one, I may venture to declare, believes other than as
Plato and Longinus did in this regard. It is an error
or a calumny that has ever prevailed concerning us; but
in former times some have had the candor, when the
error has been removed, to confess publicly that they
had been subject to it. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius,
to name no other, when, in the straits into which he was
fallen at Cotinus, he charged his disasters upon the
Christian soldiers, and, they praying prostrate upon the
earth for him and his army and empire, he forthwith
gained the victory, which before he had despaired of —
did then immediately acknowledge that they had a God,
and that they should no longer be reviled as atheists;
since it was plain that men might believe in a God, and
carry about the image of him in their own minds, though
they had no visible one. It is thus we are all theists.
We carry about with us, in the sanctuary of our own
bosoms, our image of the great and almighty God whom
we serve; and before that, and that only, do we bow
not unreasonable that you dealt with us as you now do,
nay and much more severely; for where belief in a God
does not exist, it is not easy to see how any state can
long hold together. The necessary bond is wanting, and,
as a sheaf of wheat when the band is broken, it must
fall asunder.
`The first principle of the religion of Christ is this belief
in a God; in his righteous providence here on earth,
and in a righteous retribution hereafter. How then can
the religion of Christ in this respect be of dangerous influence
or tendency? It is well known to all, who are
acquainted in the least with history or philosophy, that
in the religion of the Jews, the belief and worship of
one God almost constitutes the religion itself. Everything
else is inferior and subordinate. In this respect
the religion of Jesus is like that of the Jews. It is
exceeding jealous of the honor and worship of this one
God — the God of the Jews also; for Jesus was himself
a Jew, and has revealed to us the same God, whom we
are required to worship, only with none of the ceremonies,
rites, and sacrifices, which were peculiar to the
Jews. It is this which has caused us, equally to our
and their displeasure, frequently to be confounded together,
and mistaken the one for the other. But the
differences between us are, excepting in the great doctrine
I have just named, essential and eternal. This
doctrine therefore, which is the chief of all, being so fundamental
with us, it is not easy, I say, to see how we
can on religious accounts be dangerous to the state.
For many things are comprehended in and follow from
this faith. It is not a barren, unprofitable speculation,
moral efficacy. If it be not this to us, to all and everyone
of us, it is not what it ought to be, and we wrongly
understand or else willfully pervert it. We believe that
we are everywhere surrounded by the presence of our
God; that he is our witness every moment, and everywhere
conscious, as we are ourselves, of our words, acts,
and thoughts; and will bring us all to a strict account at
last for whatever he has thus witnessed that has been
contrary to that rigid law of holy living which he has
established over us in Christ. Must not this act upon
us most beneficially? We believe that in himself he is
perfect purity, and that he demands of us that we be so
in our degree also. We can impute to him none of the
acts, such as the believers in the Greek and Roman religions
freely ascribe to their Jove, and so have not, as
others have, in such divine example a warrant and excuse
for the like enormities. This one God too we also
regard as our judge, who will in the end sit upon our
conduct throughout the whole of our lives, and punish
or reward according to what we shall have been, just as
the souls of men, according to your belief, receive their
sentence at the bar of Minos and Rhadamanthus. And
other similar truths are wrapt up with and make a part
of this great primary one. Wherefore it is most evident,
that nothing can be more false and absurd than to think
and speak of us as atheists, and for that reason a nuisance
in the state.
`But it is not only that we are atheists, but that
through our atheism we are to be looked upon as disorderly
members of society, disturbers of the peace, disaffected
and rebellious citizens, that we hear on every side.
any; much less of all. Or if any Christian has at any
time and for any reason disobeyed the laws, withheld
his taxes when they have been demanded, or neglected
any duties which as a citizen of Rome he has owed to
the Emperor or any representative of him, then so far
he has not been a Christian. Christ's kingdom is not
of this world — though, because we so often and so much
speak of a kingdom we, have been thought to aim at one
on earth — it is above; and he requires us while here
below to be obedient to the laws and the rulers that are
set up over us; to pay tribute to whomsoever it is due;
here in Rome to Cæsar; and wherever we are to be
loyal and quiet citizens of the state. And the reception
of his religion tends to make such of us all. Whoever
adopts the faith of the gospel of Jesus will be a virtuous,
and holy, and devout man, and therefore both in Rome,
in Persia, and India, and everywhere, a good subject.
`We defend not nor abet, great Emperor, the act of
that holy but impetuous and passionate man, who so
lately, in defiance of the imperial edict and before either
remonstrance or appeal on our part, preached on the
very steps of the capitol, and there committed that violence
for which he hath already answered with his life.
We defend him not in that; but neither do we defend
the unrighteous haste, and the more than demoniac barbarity
of his death. God, we rejoice in all our afflictions,
is over all, and the wicked, the cruel, and the unjust,
shall not escape.
`Yet it must be acknowledged that there are higher
duties than those which we owe to the state, even as
there is a higher sovereign to whom we owe allegiance
senate, or emperor. Man is not only a subject and a
citizen, he is first of all the creature of God, and amenable
to his laws. When therefore there is a conflict between
the laws of God and the king, who can doubt
which are to be obeyed? — '
`Who does not see,' cried Porphyrius vehemently,
`that in such principles there lurks the blackest treason?
for who but themselves are to judge when the laws of
the two sovereigns do thus conflict? and what law then
may be promulged, but to them it may be an offence?'
`Let not the learned Porphyrius,' resumed Probus,
`rest in but a part of what I say. Let him hear the
whole, and then deny the principle if he can. I say,
when the law of God and the law of man are opposite
the one to the other, we are not to hesitate which to obey
and which to break; our first allegiance is due to Heaven.
And it is true, that we ourselves are to be the judges
in the case. But then we are judges under the same
stern laws of conscience toward God, which compel us
to violate the law of the empire, though death in its
most terrific form be the penalty. And is it likely therefore
that we shall, for frivolous causes, or imaginary
ones, or none at all, hold it to be our duty to rebel
against the law of the land? To think so were to rate
us low indeed. They may surely be trusted to make
this decision, whose fidelity to conscience in other emergences
brings down upon them so heavy a load of calamity.
I may appeal moreover to all, I think, who hear
me, of the common faith, whether they themselves would
not hold by the same principle? Suppose the case that
your supreme god — `Jupiter greatest and best' — or
have faith — revealed a law, requiring what the
law of the empire forbids, must you not, would you
not, if your religion were anything more than a mere
pretence, obey the god rather than the man? Although
therefore, great Emperor, we blame the honest Macer
for his precipitancy, yet it ought to be, and is, the determination
of us all, to yield obedience to no law which
violates the law of Heaven. We having received the
faith of Christ in trust, to be by us dispensed to mankind,
and believing the welfare of mankind to depend upon
the wide extension of it, we will rather die than shut it
up in our own bosoms — we will rather die, than live
with our tongues torn from our mouths — our limbs fettered,
and bound! We must speak, or we will die — '
Porphyrius again sprang from his seat with intent to
speak, but the Emperor restrained him.
`Contend not now, Porphyrius; let us hear the Christian.
I have given him his freedom. Infringe it not.'
`I will willingly, noble Emperor,' said Probus, `respond
to whatsoever the learned Tyrian may propose.
All I can desire is this only, that the religion of Christ
may be seen by those who are here to be what it truly
is; and it may be, that the questions or the objections of
the philosopher shall show this more perfectly than a
continued discourse.'
The Emperor however, making a sign, he went on.
`We have also been charged, O Emperor, with vices
and crimes, committed at both our social and our religious
meetings, at which nature revolts, which are even beyond
in grossness what have been ever ascribed to the
most flagitious of mankind.' — Probus here enumerated
current in Rome, and, especially by the lower orders, believed;
and drew then such a picture of the character,
lives, manners, and morals of the Christians, for the
truth of which he appealed openly to noble and distinguished
persons among the Romans then present, —
not of the Christian faith, but who were yet well acquainted
with their character and condition, and who
would not refuse to testify to what he had said — that
there could none have been present in that vast assembly
but who, if there were any sense of justice within
them, must have dismissed forever from their minds, if
they had ever entertained them, the slanderous fictions
that had filled them.
To report to you, Fausta, this part of his defence,
must be needless, and could not prove otherwise than
painful. He then also refuted in the same manner
other common objections alleged against the Christians
and their worship; the lateness of its origin; its beggarly
simplicity; the low and ignorant people who
alone or chiefly, both in Rome and throughout the
world, have received it; the fierce divisions and disputes
among the Christians themselves; the uncertainty
of its doctrines; the rigor of its morality, as unsuited
to mankind; as also its spiritual worship; the slowness
of its progress, and the little likelihood that, if
God were its author, he would leave it to be trodden
under foot and so nearly annihilated by the very people
to whom he was sending it; these and other similar
things usually urged against the Christians, and now
for the first time, it is probable, by most of the Romans
present, heard refuted and explained, did Probus set
by reason of a frivolous minuteness, nor yet omiting
a single topic or argument, which it was due to the
cause he defended, to bring before the minds of that august
assembly. He then ended his appeal in the following
manner:
`And now, great Emperor, must you have seen, in
what I have already said, what the nature and character
of this religion is; for in denying and disproving
the charges that have been brought against it, I have, in
most particulars, alleged and explained some opposite
truth or doctrine, by which it is justly characterized.
But that you may be informed the more exactly for
what it is you are about to persecute and destroy us,
and for what it is that we cheerfully undergo torture
and death sooner than surrender or deny it, listen yet a
moment longer. You have heard that we are named
after Jesus, Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee, who, in the
reign of Tiberius, was born in Judea, and there lived
and taught, a prophet and messenger of God, till he
was publicly crucified by his bitter enemies the Jews.
We do not doubt, nay, we all steadfastly believe, that
this Jesus was the Son of the Most High God, by reason
of his wonderful endowments and his delegated office
as the long-looked-for Messiah of the Jews. As the evidences
of his great office and of his divine origin, he
performed those miracles that filled with astonishment
the whole Jewish nation, and strangers from all parts of
the world; and so wrought even upon the mind of your
great predecessor, the Emperor Tiberius, that he would
fain receive him into the number of the gods of Rome.
And why, O Emperor, was this great personage sent
power and wisdom and goodness, an emanation of the
self-existent and infinite and invisible God? And why
do we so honor him, and cleave to him, that we are
ready to offer our lives in sacrifice, while we go forth
as preachers of his faith, making him known to all nations
as the universal Saviour and Redeemer? This
Jesus came into the world, and lived and taught; was
preceded by so long a preparation of prophetic annunciation
and accompanied by so sublime demonstrations
of almighty power, to this end, and to this end only, that
he might save us from our sins, and from those penal
consequences in this world and in worlds to come,
which are bound to them by the stern decrees of fate.
Yes, Aurelian, Jesus came only that he might deliver
mankind from the thraldom of sin, and raise them to a
higher condition of virtue and happiness. He was a
great moral and religious reformer, endowed with the
wisdom and power of the supreme God. He himself
toiled only in Judea; but he came a benefactor of
Rome too — of Rome as well as of Judea. He came to
purge it of its pollutions; to check in their growth those
customs and vices which seem destined, reaching their
natural height and size, to overlay and bury in final ruin
the city and the empire; he came to make us citizens
of Heaven through the virtues which his doctrine
should build up in the soul, and so citizens of Rome
more worthy of that name than any who ever went
before. He came to heal, to mend, to reform the state;
not to set up a kingdom in hostility to this, but in unison
with it; an inward, invisible kingdom in every man's
heart, and which should be as the soul of the other.
`It was to reform the morals of the state, to save it
from itself, that you, Aurelian, in the first years of your
reign, applied those energies that have raised the empire
to more than its ancient glory. You aimed to infuse
a love of justice and of peace, to abate the extravagances
of the times, to stem the tide of corruption that
seemed about to bear down upon its foul streams the
empire itself, tossing upon its surface a wide sea of ruins.
It was a great work — too great for man. It
needed a divine strength and a more than human wisdom.
These were not yours; and it is no wonder
that the work did not go on to its completion. Jesus is
a reformer; of Rome and of the world also. The
world is his theatre of action; but with him there is
leagued the arm and the power of the Supreme God;
and the work which he attempts shall succeed. It cannot
but succeed. It is not so much he, Jesus of Nazareth,
who has come forth upon this great errand of
mercy and love to mankind, as God himself in and
through him. It is the Great God of the Universe,
who, by Jesus Christ as his agent and messenger, comes
to you, and would reform and redeem your empire, and
out of that which is transitory, and by its inherent vice
threatened with decay and death, make a city and an
empire which, through the energy of its virtues, shall
truly be eternal. Can you not, O Emperor, supposing
the claims of this religion to a divine origin to be just,
view it with respect? Nay, could you not greet its
approach to your capital with pleasure and gratitude,
seeing its aim is nothing else than this, to purify, purge,
and reform the state, to heal its wounds, cleanse its putrifying
members, and infuse the element of a new and
Rome must rejoice when any power approaches and offers
to apply those remedies that may, with remotest
probability only, bid fair to cure the diseases of which
her body is sick, nigh unto death. Such, Aurelian, was
and is the aim of Jesus in the religion which he
brought; to reform the world, and bring men everywhere
into harmony with God their Creator; to reconcile
them to each other; to make them as one. And of
us, who are his ministers, his messengers — who go
forth bearing these glad tidings of deliverance from sin
and corruption, and of union with God — our work is
the same with his. We but repeat the lessons which
he gave. We take his gospel, which is his written instruction,
in our hand, and reading as we go, we aim to
rescue the souls of men from the power of demons, of
satan, and of sin. We are humble teachers of good
morals. Our office, like that of our great Master, is
persuading men to abandon all that injures them, and
unite themselves to God in virtuous lives. Are we, in so
doing, enemies of Rome? Are we not rather her truest
friends? By making men good, pure, just, kind, honest,
and conscientious, are we not at the same time
making them the best citizens? Are there in Rome
better citizens than the Christians?
`You will now perhaps, Aurelian, desire to be told
by what instruments Christianity hopes to work such
changes — by the use of what means. It is simply, O
Emperor, by the power of truth! The religion which
we preach uses not force. Were the arm of Aurelian
at this moment the arm of Probus, he could do no more
than he now does with one, which, as the world deems, is
pertains to the soul and its growth and purification, there
must be utmost freedom. The soul must suffer no constraint.
There must be no force laid upon it, but the
force of reason and the appeal of divine truth. All that
we ask or want in Rome is the liberty of speech — the
free allowance to offer to men the truth in Christ and
persuade them to consider it. With that we will engage
to reform and save the whole world. We want not to
meddle with affairs of state, nor with the citizen's relations
to the state; we have naught to do with the city,
or its laws, or government. We desire but the privilege
to worship God according to our consciences, and
labor for the moral and spiritual welfare of all who will
hear our words.
`And if you would know what the truth is we impart,
and by which we would save the souls of men, and
reform the empire and the world, be it known to you
that we preach Jesus Christ and him crucified, whom
God raised up and sent into the world to save it by his
doctrine and life, and whom — being by the Jews hung
upon a cross — God raised again from the dead. We
preach him as the Son of God with power, by whom
God has been revealed to mankind in his true nature
and perfections, and through whom, he and he only is
to be worshipped. It is this Being, the God who sent
Jesus into the world, whom we preach to you and all in
Rome as the only true God, for whom you are bound,
when the truth shall have been made plain to you, to
forsake your idols and fall down and serve him alone.
In the place of Jupiter, we bring you a revelation of
the God and Father of Christ Jesus our Lord — a being
governor, and judge of the universe, and who will call all
men unto judgment at last for all their acts and thoughts,
rewarding or punishing according to what they have
done. Through Jesus, we preach also a resurrection
from the dead. We show by arguments which cannot
be refuted, that this Jesus, when he had been crucified
and slain, and had lain three days in the tomb, was
called again to life, and taken up to Heaven, as an example
of what should afterward happen to all his followers.
Through him has immortality been plainly brought
to light and proved, and this transporting truth we declare
wherever we go. Through Jesus, we preach also
repentance; we declare to men their wickedness; we
show them what and how great it is; and exhort them
to repentance, as what can alone save them from the
wrath to come.
`This, O Emperor, is the great work which we, as
apostles of Jesus, have to do, to convince the world
how vile it is; how surely their wickedness unrepented
of will work their misery and their ruin, and so lead
them away from it, and up the safe and pleasant heights
of Christian virtue. We find Rome sunk in sensuality
and sin; nor only that, but ignorant of its own guilt,
dead to the wickedness into which it has fallen, and denying
any obligations to a different or better life. Such
do we find the world itself, dead, dead in trespasses and
sin. We would rouse it from this sleep of moral death.
We desire, first of all, to waken in the souls of men a
perception of the guilt of sin! a feeling of the wide departure
of their lives from the just demands of the being
who made them. The prospect of immortality were
evil were we not made alive to sin and righteousness.
Life on earth, Aurelian, is not the best thing, but life
free from sin — virtuous life: so life without end is not
the best thing, but that life glorious through holiness.
But to the necessity of such holiness to the life of the
soul, men are now insensible and dead. They love the
prospect of an immortal existence, but not of that purity
without which immortality were no blessing. This
moral regeneration — this waking up of men dead in
sin, to the life of righteousness — this redemption of
them from their vices and the abominable and cruel and
impious customs which prevail and sink them to the
level of the brutes — this is the first aim of Christianity.
Repentance! was the first word of its founder when
he began preaching in Judea; it is the first word of his
followers wherever they go, and should be the last.
This, O Aurelian, in few words, is the gospel of Jesus
— “Repent, and live forever!”
`In the service of this gospel, and therefore of you and
the world, we are content to labor while we live, to suffer
injury and reproach, and if need be, and they to
whom we go will not understand us, lay down our
lives. Almost three hundred years has it appealed to
mankind; and though not with the success that should
have followed upon the toil of those who have toiled
for the salvation of men, yet has it not been rejected everywhere,
nor has the labor been in vain. The fruit that
has come of the seed sown is great and abundant. In
every corner of the earth are there now those who
name the name of Christ. And in every place are there
many more than meet the eye who read our gospels,
hope which have taken root in their souls. Here in
Rome, O Aurelian, are there multitudes of believers,
whom the ear hears not, nor the eye sees, hidden
away in the security of this sea of roofs, and whom the
messengers of your power never could discover. Destroy
us you may; sweep from the face of Rome every
individual whom the most diligent search can find, from
the gray-haired man of four-score to the infant that can
just lisp the name of Jesus, and you have not destroyed
the Christians; the Christian church still stands — not
unharmed, but founded as before upon a rock, against
which the powers of earth and hell can never prevail;
and soon as this storm shall have overblown, those other
and now secret multitudes, of whom I speak, will come
forth, and the wilderness of the church shall blossom
again as a garden in the time of spring. God is working
with us, and who therefore can prevail against us!
`Bring not then, Aurelian, upon your own soul; bring
not upon Rome, the guilt that would attend this unnecessary
slaughter. It can but defer for an hour or a
day the establishment of that kingdom of righteousness,
which must be established, because it is God's, and he
is laying its foundations and building its walls. Have
pity too, great Emperor, upon this large multitude of
those who embrace this faith, and who will not let it go
for all the terrors of your courts and judges and engines;
they will all suffer the death of Macer ere they
will prove false to their Master. Let not the horrors of
that scene be renewed, nor the greater ones of an indiscriminate
massacre. I implore your compassions, not
for myself, but for these many thousands, who by my
them my heart bleeds; them I would save from the
death which impends. Yet it is a glorious and a happy
death, to die for truth and Christ! It is better to die
so, knowing that by such death the very church itself is
profited than to die in one's own bed, and only to one's
self. So do these thousands think; and whatever conpassion
I may implore for them, they would each and
all, were that their fate, go with cheerful step, as those
who went to some marriage supper, to the axe, the
stake, or the cross. Christianity cannot die but with
the race itself. Its life is bound up in the life of man,
and man must be destroyed ere that can perish. Behold
then, Aurelian, the labor that is thine!'
Soon as he had ceased, Porphyrius started from his
seat and said,
`It is then, O Romans, just as it has ever been affirmed.
The Galileans are atheists! They believe not
in the gods of Rome, nor in any in whom mankind can
ever have belief. I doubt not but they think themselves
believers in a God. They think themselves to have
found one better than others have; but upon any definition
that I or you could give or understand of atheism,
they are atheists! Their God is invisible; he is a universal
spirit, like this circumambient air; of no form,
dwelling in no place. But how can that without effrontery
be called a being, which is without body and
form; which is everywhere and yet nowhere; which
from the beginning of the world has never been heard of
till by these Nazarenes he is now first brought to light,
or, if older, exists in the dreams of the dreaming Jews,
whose religion, as they term it, is so stuffed with fable,
search, to meet with so much as a grain of truth.
Yet, whatever these Galileans may assert, their speech
is hardly to be received as wholly worthy of belief, when,
in their very sacred records, such things are to be found
as contradict themselves. For in one place — not to
mention a thousand cases of the like kind — it is said
that Jesus, the head of this religion, on a certain occasion
walked upon the sea; when, upon sifting the narrative,
it is found that it was but upon a paltry lake, the
lake of Galilee, upon which he performed that great feat!
— a thing to which the magic of which he is accused —
and doubtless with justice — was plainly equal; while
to walk upon the sea might well have been beyond that
science. How much of what we have heard is to be
distrusted also, concerning the love which these Nazarenes
bear to Rome. We may well pray to be delivered
from the affection of those, whose love manifests itself in
the singular manner of seeking our destruction. He
who loves me so well as to poison me that I may have
the higher enjoyment of Elysium, I could hardly esteem
as a well-wisher or friend. These Jewish fanatics love
us after somewhat the same fashion. In the zeal of
their affection they would make us heirs of what they
call their heavenly kingdom, but in the meanwhile destroy
our religion, deprive us of our ancient gods, and
sap the foundations of the state. Romans, in spite of
all you have heard of another sort, I hope you will still
believe that experience is one of your most valuable
teachers, and that therefore you will be slow to forsake
opinions which have the sanction of venerable age, under
which you have flourished so happily and your country
I think you would deserve the fate which this new-made
religion would bring you to, if you abandoned the worship
of a thousand years, for the presumptuous novelty
of yesterday. Not a name of greatness or honor can be
quoted of those who have adorned this foreign fiction;
while all the great and good of Greece and Rome, philosophers,
moralists, historians, and poets are to be found
on the side of Hellenism. If we cast from us that which
we have experienced to be good, by what rule and on
what principle can we afterward put our trust in anything
else? And it is considerable, that which has ever
been asserted of this people and which I doubt not is
true, that they have ever been prying about with their
doctrines and their mysteries among the poor and humbler
sort, among women, slaves, simple and unlearned
folks, while they have never appealed to, nor made any
converts of the great, the learned, the witty, who alone
capable of judging of the truth of what they put
forth. Who are the believers here in Rome? Who
knows them? Are the sacred senate Christians? or any
distinguished for their rank? No; with exceptions too
few to be noticed those who embrace it are among the
dregs of the people, men wholly incapable of separating
true from false, and laying properly the safe foundations
of a new religion — a work too great even for philosophers.
And not only does this religion draw to itself
the poor and humble and ignorant, but the base and
wicked also; persons known while of our way to have
been notorious for their vices have all of a sudden joined
themselves to the Christians; and whatever show of
sanctity may then have been assumed, we may well suppose
it boast of such members, and while its brief life lasts
make continually such converts from us. As to the
amazing show they make of their benevolence in the
care of the poor and even of our poor, doing more offices
of kindness toward them — so it is affirmed — than we
ourselves — who does not see the motive that prompts
so much charity, in the good opinion they build up for
themselves in those whom they have so much obliged,
and who cannot in decency do less afterward than oblige
them in turn by joining their superstitions—superstitions
of which they know nothing before they adopt them, and
as little afterward. But I will not O Emperor, weary
out your patience again — already so tried — and will only
say that the fate which has all along and everywhere
befallen these people might well warn them that they
are objects of the anger rather than the favor and love
of the Lord of Heaven, of which they so confidently
make their boast. For if he loved them would he leave
them everywhere so to the rage and destruction of their
enemies — to be reviled, trodden upon and despised all
over the earth? If these be the signs of love what are
those of hate? And can it be that he their Lord of
Heaven hath in store for them a world of bliss beyond
this life, who gives them here on earth scarce
the sordid shelter of a cabin? In truth they seem to be
a community living upon their imaginations. They
fancy themselves favorites of Heaven — though all the
world thinks otherwise. They fancy themselves the
greatest benefactors the world has ever seen, while they
are the only ones who think so. They have nothing
here but persecution, contempt, and hatred, and yet are
and best of earth have ever dared to hope for. We cannot
but hope they may be at some time the riddle to
themselves which they are to us. This is a benevolent
wish, for their entertainment would be great.'
When he had ended, and almost before, many voices
were heard of those who wished to speak, and Probus rose
in his place to reply to what had fallen from the philosopher,
but all were alike silenced by the loud and stern
command of Aurelian, who evidently weary and impatient
of further audience of what he was so little willing
to hear at all, cried out, saying,
`The Christians, Romans, have now been heard, as
they desired, by one whom they themselves appointed to
set forth their doctrine. This is no school for the disputations
of sophists or philosophers or fanatics. Let
Romans and Christians alike withdraw.'
Whereupon, without further words or delay, the assembly
broke up.
It was not difficult to see that the statements and reasonings
of Probus had fallen upon many who heard
them with equal surprise and delight. Every word that
he uttered was heard with an eager attention I never before
saw equaled. I have omitted the greater part of
what he said, especially where he went with minuteness
into an account of the history, doctrine, and precept of
our faith, knowing it to be too familiar to you to make
it desirable to have it repeated.
It was in part at least owing to an unwillingness to allow
Probus again to address that audience, representing
all the rank and learning of Rome, that the Emperor
so hastily dissolved the assembly. Whatever effect the
there is reason to believe that its effects will be deep
and eternal upon the higher classes of our inhabitants.
They then heard what they never heard before — a fair
and honest account of what Christianity is; and from
what I have already been informed, and gathered indeed
from my own observation at the time, they now regard
it with very different sentiments.
When late in the evening of this day we conversed
of its events, Probus being seated with us, we indulged
both in those cheering and desponding thoughts which
seem to be strangely mingled together in our present
calamities.
`No opinion,' said Julia, `has been more strongly
confirmed within me by this audience before Aurelian,
than this, that it has been of most auspicious influence
upon our faith. Not that some have not been filled
with a bitterer spirit than before; but that more have
been favorably inclined toward us by the disclosures,
Probus, which you made; and whether they become
Christians or not eventually, they will be far more
ready to defend us in our claim for the common rights
of citizens. Marcellinus, who sat near me, was of this
number. He expressed frequently in most emphatic
terms his surprise at what he heard, which he said he
was constrained to admit as true and fair statements,
seeing they were supported and corroborated by my
and your presence and silence. At the close he declared
his purpose to procure the gospels for his perusal.'
`And yet,' said I, `the late consul Capitalinus, who
was at my side, and whose clear and intelligent mind
as Porphyrius was, or pretended to be — in all his previous
unfavorable impressions. He did not disguise his
opinion, but freely said that in his judgment the religion
ought to be suppressed, and that, though he should
by no means defend any measures like those which he
understood Aurelian had resolved to put in force, he
should advocate such action in regard to it as could
not fail to expel it from the empire in no very great
number of years.'
`I could observe,' added Probus, `the same differences
of feeling and judgment all over the surface of that sea
of faces. But if I should express my belief as to the
proportion of friends and enemies there present, I should
not hesitate to say — and that I am sure without any
imposition upon my own credulity — that the greater
part by far were upon our side — not in faith as you may
suppose — but in that good opinion of us and of the tendencies
of our doctrine and the value of our services,
that is very near it, and is better than the public profession
of Christ of many others.'
`It will be a long time, I am persuaded,' said Julia,
`before the truths received then into many minds will
cease to operate in our behalf. But what think you
was the feeling of Aurelian? His countenance was
hidden from me — yet that would reveal not much. It is
immovable at those times when he is deeply stirred, or
has any motive to conceal his sentiments.'
`I cannot believe,' replied Probus, `that any impression
such as we could wish was made upon that hard
and cruel heart. Not the column against which he
that came from my lips than he. He has not been
moved, we may well believe, to change any of his designs.
Whatever yesterday it was in his intent to do,
he will accomplish to-morrow. I do not believe we
have anything to hope at his hands.'
`Alas! Lucius,' said Julia, `that our faith in Christ
and our interest and concern for its progress in Rome
should come to this. How happy was I in Syria, with
this belief as my bosom companion and friend; and
free too to speak of it, to any and to all. How needless
is all the misery which this rude, unlettered tyrant is
about to inflict. How happily for all, would things
take their course even here, might they but be left to
run in those natural channels which would reveal themselves,
and which would then conduct to those ends
which the Divine Providence has proposed. But man
wickedly interposes; and a misery is inflicted which
otherwise would have never fallen upon us, and which
in the counsels of God was never designed. What now
think you, Probus, will be the event?'
`I cannot doubt,' he replied, `that to-morrow will witness
all that report has already spread abroad as the
purpose of Aurelian. Urged on by both Fronto and
Varus, he will not pause in his course. Rome, ere the
Ides, will swim in Christian blood. I see not whence
deliverance is to come. Miracle alone could save us;
and miracle has long since ceased to be the order of
Providence. Having provided for us this immense instrument
of moral reform in the authority and doctrine
of Christ, we are now left, as doubtless it is on the
be, to our own unassisted strength, to combat with all
the evils that may assail us, both from without and
within. For myself, I can meet this tempest without a
thought of reluctance or dread. I am a solitary man;
having neither child nor relative to mourn my loss; I
have friends indeed, whom I love, and from whom I
would not willingly part; but, if any considerable purpose
is to be gained by my death to that cause for
which I have lived, neither I nor they can lament that
it should occur. Under these convictions as to my
own fate — and that of all must I say and believe? no;
I cannot, will not, believe that humanity has taken its
final departure from the bosom of Aurelian — I turn to
one bright spot, and there my thoughts dwell, and there
my hopes gather strength, and that is here, where you,
Piso, and you, lady, will still dwell, too high for the
aim of the imperial murderer to reach. Here I shall
believe will there be an asylum for many a wearied
spirit, a safe refuge from the sharp pelting of the storm
without. And when a calm shall come again, from beneath
this roof, as once from the ark of God, shall there
go forth those who shall again people the waste-places
of the church, and change the wilderness of death into
a fruitful garden full of the plants of God.'
`That it is the present purpose of Aurelian to spare
me,' I answered, `whatever provocation I may give him,
I fully believe. He is true; and his word to that end,
with no wish expressed on my part, has been given.
But do not suppose that in that direction at least he
may not change his purpose. Superstitiously mad as
he now is, a mere plaything too in the bloody hands of
than even my life, privileged and secure as I
may seem. If it should occur to him, in his day or his
night visions and dreams, that I more than others should
be an acceptable offering to his god, my life would be to
him but as that of an insect buzzing around his ear; and
being dead by a blow, he would miss me no more. Still
let the mercy that is vouchsafed, whether great or little,
be gratefully confessed.'
You then see, Fausta, the position in which your old
friends now stand here in Rome. Who could have believed,
when we talked over our dangers in Palmyra,
that greater and more dreadful still awaited us in our
own home. It has come upon us with such suddenness
that we can scarce believe it ourselves. Yet are
we prepared, with an even mind and a trusting faith, for
whatever may betide.
It is happy for me, and for Julia, that our religion
has fixed within us so firm a belief in a superintending
Providence — who orders not only the greatest but the
least events of life, who is as much concerned for the
happiness and the moral welfare of the humblest individual,
as he is for the orderly movement of a world —
that we sit down under the shadows that overhang us,
perfectly convinced that some end of good to the church
or the world is to be achieved through these convulsions
greater than could have been achieved in any
other way. The Supreme Ruler, we believe, is infinitely
wise and infinitely good. But he would be neither,
if unnecessary suffering were meted out to his
creatures. This suffering then is not unnecessary. But
through it, in ways which our sight now is not piercing
redound both to the individuals concerned, to the
the present generation, and a remote posterity, which
could not otherwise have been secured. This we must
believe; or we must renounce all belief.
Forget not to remember us with affection to Gracchus
and Calpurnius.
I also was present at the hearing of Probus. But of
that I need say nothing; Piso having so fully written
concerning it to the daughter of Gracchus.
Early on the following day I was at the Gardens of
Sallust, where I was present both with the Emperor
and Livia, and with the Emperor and Fronto, and
heard conversations which I here record.
When I entered the apartment, in which it was customary
for the Empress to sit at this time of the day, I
found her there engaged upon her embroidery, while
the Emperor paced back and forth, his arms crossed behind
him, and care and anxiety marked upon his countenance.
Livia, though she sat quietly at her work,
seemed ill at ease, and as if some thought were busy
within to which she would gladly give utterance. She
was evidently relieved by my entrance, and immediately
made her usual inquiries after the health of the Queen,
in which Aurelian joined her.
Aurelian then turned to me and said,
`I saw you yesterday at the Palatine, Nichomachus;
what thought you of the Christian's defence?'
`It did not convert me to his faith —'
`Neither, by the gods! did it me,' quickly interrupted
Aurelian.
`But,' I went on, `it seemed to show good cause why
they should not be harshly or cruelly dealt with. He
proved them to be a harmless people, if not positively
profitable to the state.'
`I do not see that,' replied the Emperor. `It is impossible
they should be harmless who sap the foundations
of religion; it is impossible they should be profitable
who seduce from their allegiance the good subjects
of the empire; and this religion of the Christians does
both.'
`I agree that it is so,' I rejoined, `if it is to be assumed
in the controversy that the prevailing religion of
the Romans is a perfect one, and that any addition or
alteration is necessarily an evil. That seems to be the
position of Porphyrius and others. But to that I can
by no means assent. It seems to me that the religions
of mankind are susceptible of improvement as governments
are, and other like institutions; that what may
be perfectly well suited to a nation in one stage of its
growth may be very ill adapted to another; that the
gods in their providence accordingly design that one
form of religious worship and belief should in successive
ages be superceded by others, which shall be more exactly
suited to their larger growth and more urgent necessities.
The religion of the early days of Rome was
perhaps all that so rude a people were capable of comprehending
— all that they wanted. It worked well
for them, and you have reason for gratitude that it was
bestowed upon them, and has conferred so great benefits
upon the preceding centuries. But the light of the sun
that religion is stark naught.' — The Emperor frowned,
and stood still in his walk, looking sternly upon me;
but I heeded him not. — `Most of any intelligence and
reflection,' I continued, `spurn it away from them as fit
but for children and slaves. Must they then be without
any principle of this kind? Is it safe for a community
to grow up without faith in a superintending
power, from whom they come, to whom they are responsible?
I think not. In any such community —
and Rome is becoming such a one — the elements of
disruption, anarchy, and ruin, are there at work, and
will overthrow it. A society of atheists is a contradiction
in terms. Atheists may live alone, but not together.
Will you compel your subjects to become
such? If a part remain true to the ancient faith, and
find it to be sufficient, will you deny to the other part
the faith which they crave, and which would be sufficient
for them? I doubt if that were according to the
dictates of wisdom and philosophy. And how know
you, Aurelian, that this religion of Christ may not be
the very principle which, and which alone, may save
your people from atheism, and your empire from the
ruin that would bring along in its train?'
`I cannot deny,' said the Emperor in reply, `that
there is some sense and apparent truth in what you have
said. But to me it is shadowy and intangible. It is
the speculation of that curious class among men, who,
never satisfied with what exists, are always desiring
some new forms of truth, in religion, in government,
and all subjects of that nature. I could feel no more
certain of going or doing right by conforming to their
established. Nay, I can see safety nowhere but in
what already is. There is the only certainty. Suppose
some enthusiast in matters of government were to
propose his system, by which the present established
insitutions were all to be abandoned and new ones set
up, should I permit him to go freely among the people,
puzzling their heads with what it is impossible they
should understand, and by his sophistries alienating them
from their venerable parent? Not so, by Hercules! I
should ill deserve my office of supreme guardian of
the honor and liberties of Rome, did I not mew him up
in the Fabrician dungeons, or send him lower still to
the Stygian shades.'
`But,' said Livia, who had seemed anxious to speak,
`though it may be right, and best for the interests of
Rome, to suppress this new worship, yet why, Aurelian,
need it be done at such expense of life? Can no way
be devised by which the professors of this faith shall be
banished the realm, and no new teachers of it permitted
to enter it afterward but at the risk of life, or some other
appointed penalty? Sure I am, from what I heard
from the Christian Probus, and what I have heard so
often from the lips of Julia, this people cannot be the
sore in the body of the state which Fronto represents
them.'
`I cannot, Livia,' replied the Emperor, `refuse to
obey what to me have been warnings from the gods.'
`But may not the heavenly signs have been read
amiss?' rejoined Livia.
`There is no truth in augury, if my duty be not
where I have placed it,' answered Aurelian.
`And perhaps, Aurelian, there is none. I have heard
that the priests of the temples play many a trick upon
their devout worshippers.'
`Livia, it has doubtless been so; but you would not
believe that Fronto has trifled with Aurelian?'
`I believe Fronto capable of any crime by which the
gods may be served. Have you not heard, Aurelian,
what fell from the dying Christian's lips?'
`I have, Livia; and have cast it from me as at best
the coinage of a moonstruck mountebank. Shall the
word of such a one as Macer the Christian, unseat my
trust in such a one as Fronto? That were not reasonable,
Livia.'
`Then, Aurelian, if not for any reason that I can
give, for the love you bear me, withhold your hand
from this innocent people. You have often asked me
to crave somewhat which it would be hard for you to
grant, that you might show how near you hold me.
Grant me this favor, and it shall be more to me than if
you gave me the one half the empire.'
The Emperor's stern countenance relaxed, and wore
for a moment that softened expression, accompanied
by a smile, that on his face might be be termed beautiful.
He was moved by the unaffected warmth and
winning grace with which those words were spoken by
Livia. But he only said,
`I love thee, Livia, as thou knowest, — but not so
well as Rome.'
`I would not, Aurelian,' replied the Empress, `that
love of me should draw you away from what you owe
to Rome — from what is the clear path of a monarch's
duty; but this seems confessedly a doubtful case. They
is not wrong to ask you, for my sake, to lean to the side
of mercy.'
`You are never wrong, Livia. And were it only
right to —'
`But are you not, Aurelian, sure of being right in
being merciful? Can it ever afterward repent you that
you drew back from the shedding of blood?'
`It is called mercy, Livia, when he who has the power
spares the culprit, forgives the offence, and sends him
from the gibbet or the cross back to his weeping friends.
The crowds throw up their caps and shout as for some
great and good deliverance. But the mercy that returns
upon the world a villain, whose crimes had richly earned
for him his death, is surely a doubtful virtue. Though,
as is well known, I am not famed for mercy, yet were it
clear to me what in this case were the truest mercy —
for the pleasure, Livia, of pleasuring thee, I would be
merciful. But I should not agree with thee in what is
mercy. It were no mercy to Rome, as I judge, to spare
these Christians, whatever the grace might be to them.
Punishment is often mercy. In destroying these
wretches I am merciful both to Rome and to the world,
and shall look to have their thanks.'
`There comes, Aurelian,' said Livia, rising, `thy evil
genius — thy ill-possessing demon — who has so changed
the kindly current of thy blood. I would that he, who
so loves the gods, were with them. I cannot wait him.'
With these words Livia rose and left the apartment,
just as Fronto entered in another direction.
`Welcome, Fronto!' said Aurelian. `How thrive our
affairs?'
`As we could wish, great Emperor. The city with
us, and the gods with us, — we cannot but prosper. A
few days will see great changes.'
`How turns out the tale of Curio? What find you to
be the truth? Are the Christians here, or are they
fled?'
`His tale was partly false and partly true. More are
fled than Piso or the Christians will allow; but doubtless
the greater part, by large odds, remain.'
`That is well. Then for the other side of this great
duty. Is thine own house purged? Is the temple,
new and of milk-white marble, now as clean and white
in its priesthood? Have those young sots and pimps
yet atoned for their foul impieties?'
`They have,' replied Fronto. `They have been dealt
with; and their carcases swinging and bleaching in the
wind will long serve I trust to keep us sweet. The
temple, I now may believe, is thoroughly swept.'
`And how is it, Fronto, with the rest?'
`The work goes on. Your messengers are abroad;
and it will be neither for want of power, will, nor zeal,
if from this time Hellenism stand not before the world
as beautiful in her purity as she is venerable in years
and truth.'
`The gods be praised that I have been stirred up to
this! When this double duty shall be done, Hellenism
reformed, and her enemy extinct, then may I say that
life has not been spent for naught. But meanwhile,
Fronto, the army needs me. All is prepared, and letters
urge me on. To-morrow I would start for Thrace. Yet
it cannot be so soon.'
`No,' said the priest. `Rome will need you more
work well begun. Then, Aurelian, may it be safely entrusted,
so far as zeal and industry shall serve, to those
behind.'
`I believe it, Fronto. I see myself doubly reflected
in thee: and almost so in Varus. The Christians, were
I gone, would have four Aurelians for one. Well, let
us rejoice that piety is not dead. The sacrifice this
morning was propitious. I feel its power in every
thought and movement.'
`But while all things else seem propitious, Aurelian,
one keeps yet a dark and threatening aspect.'
`What mean you?'
`Piso! —'
`Fronto, I have in that made known my will, and
more than once. Why again dispute it?'
`I know no will, great Cæsar, that may cross or surmount
that of the gods. They to me are supreme, not
Aurelian.'
Aurelian moved from the priest and paced the room.
`I see not, Fronto, with such plainness the will of
Heaven in this.'
`'Tis hard to see the divine will, when the human
will is so strong.'
`My aim is to please the gods in all things,' replied
the Emperor.'
`Love too, Aurelian, blinds the eye, and softening the
heart toward our fellow, hardens it toward the gods.'
This he uttered with a strange significancy.
`I think, Fronto, mine has been all too hard toward
man, if it were truly charged. At least, of late, the gods
can have no ground of blame.'
`Rome,' replied the priest `is not slow to see and
praise the zeal that is now crowning her seven hills with
a greater glory than ever yet has rested on them. Let
her see that her great son can finish what has been so
well begun.'
`Fronto, I say it, but I say it with some inward pain,
that were it plain the will of the gods were so —'
`Piso should die!' eagerly interrupted the priest.
`I will not say it yet, Fronto.'
`I see not why Aurelian should stagger at it. If the
will of the gods is in this whole enterprise; if they will
that these hundreds and thousands, these crowds of
young and old, little children and tender youth, should
all perish, that posterity by such sacrifice now in the beginning
may be delivered from the curse that were else
entailed upon them, then who can doubt, to whom truth
is the chief thing, that they will, nay, and ordain in their
sacred breasts, that he who is their chief and head,
about whom they cluster, from whose station and power
they daily draw fresh supplies of courage, should perish
too; nay, that he should be the first great offering, that
so the multitudes who stay their weak faith on him may,
on his loss, turn again unharmed to their ancient faith.—
That too were the truest mercy.'
`There may be something in that, Fronto. Nevertheless
I do not yet see so much to rest upon one life.
If all the rest were dead, and but one alive, and he Piso,
I see not but the work were done.'
`A thousand were better left, Aurelian, than Piso, and
the lady Julia! They are more in the ears and eyes of
Rome than all the preachers of this accursed tribe.
They are preaching, not on their holydays to a mob of
hot and zealous caterers from the lanes and kennels of
the city, within the walls of their filthy synagogues, but
they preach every day, to the very princes and nobles of
the state — at the capitol to the senate — here in thy
palaces to all the greatest and best of Rome; and, by the
gods! as I believe, make more converts to their impieties
than all the army of their atheistical priesthood. Upon
Probus, Piso, and Julia, hang the Christians of Rome.
Hew them away and the branches die. Probus, ere to-morrow's
sun is set, feeds the beasts of the Flavian —
then —'
`Hold, Fronto! I will no more of it now. I have,
besides, assured Piso of his safety.'
`There is no virtue like that of those who, having
erred, repent.'
Aurelian looked for the moment as if he would willingly
have hurled Fronto, and his temple after him, to
Tartarus. But the bold man heeded him not.
`Shall I,' he continued, `say what it is that thus ties
the hands of the conqueror of the world?'
`Say what thou wilt.'
`Rome says, I say it not — but Rome says 'tis love.'
`What mean they? I take you not. Love?'
`Of the princess Julia, still so called.'
A deep blush burned upon the cheek of Aurelian.
He paused a moment as if for some storm within to subside.
He then said, in his deep tone that indicates the
presence of the whole soul — but without passion —
`Fronto, 'tis partly true — truer than I wish it were.
When in Syria my eye first beheld her I loved her —
as I never loved before and never shall again. But not
Piso. I sued, as man never sued before, but all in vain.
Her image still haunts the chambers of my brain; yet,
with truth do I say it, but as some pure vision sent from
the gods. I confess, Fronto, it is she who stands between
me and the will of Heaven. I know not what
force, but that of all the gods, could make me harm her.
To no other ear has this ever been revealed. She is to
me god and goddess.'
`Now, Aurelian, that thou hast spoken in the fullness
of thy heart, do I hold thee redeemed from the invisible
tyrant. In our own hearts we sin and err, as we dare
not when the covering is off, and others can look in and
see how weak we are. Thou canst not, great Cæsar,
for this fondness forget and put far from thee the vision
of thy mother, whom, in dreams or in substantial shape,
the gods sent down to revive thy fainting zeal! Let it
not be that that call shall have been in vain.'
`Fronto, urge now no more. Hast thou seen Varus?'
`I have.'
`Are the edicts ready?'
`They are.'
`Again then at the hour of noon let them glare forth
upon the enemies of Rome from the columns of the
capitol. Let Varus be so instructed. Now I would be
alone.'
Whereupon the priest withdrew, and I also rose from
where I had sat, to take my leave, when the Emperor
said,
`This seems harsh, to thee, Nichomachus?'
`I cannot but pray the gods,' I said, `to change the
mind of Aurelian!'
`They have made his mind what it is, Nichomachus.'
`Not they,' I said, `but Fronto.'
`But,' he quickly added, `the gods made Fronto and
have put their mind in him, or it has never been known
on earth. You know not the worth, Greek, of this
man. Had Rome possessed such a one two hundred
years ago, this work had not now to be done.'
Saying which, he withdrew into his inner apartment,
and I sought again the presence of Livia.
| Probus, or, Rome in the third century | |