Page 6 of Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century

  LETTER V.

  FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.

  I am now returned from my long intended visit to the villa of Marcus,and have much to say concerning it.

  But, first of all, rejoice with me in a fresh demonstration of goodwill, on the part of Aurelian towards Zenobia. And what think you it is?Nothing less than this, that Vabalathus has been made, by Aurelian andthe senate, king of Armenia! The kingdom is not large, but large enoughfor him at his present age--if he shall show himself competent,additions doubtless will be made. Our only regret is, that the Queenloses thus his presence with her at Tibur. He had become to his motherall that a son should be. Not that in respect to native force he couldever make good the loss of Julia, or even of Livia, but, that in all themany offices which an affectionate child would render to a parent in thechanged circumstances of Zenobia, he has proved to be a solace and asupport.

  The second day from the dedication, passing through the Porta Asinariawith Milo at my side, I took the road that winds along the hither bankof the Tiber, and leads most pleasantly, if not most directly, to theseat of my friends--and you are well aware how willingly I sacrifice alittle time on the way, if by doing so I can more than make up the lossby obtaining brighter glimpses of earth and sky. Had I not foundChristianity, Fausta, this would have been my religion. I should haveforsaken the philosophers, and gone forth into the fields, among theeternal hills, upon the banks of the river, or the margin of theever-flowing ocean, and in the lessons there silently read to me, Ishould, I think, have arrived at some very firm and comfortable faith inGod and immortality. And I am especially happy in this, that nature inno way loses its interest or value, because I now draw truth from a morecertain source. I take the same pleasure as before, in observing andcontemplating her various forms, and the clearer light of Christianitybrings to view a thousand beauties, to which before I was insensible.Just as in reading a difficult author, although you may have reached hissense in some good degree, unaided, yet a judicious commentator pointsout excellences, and unfolds truths, which you had either whollyoverlooked, or but imperfectly comprehended.

  All without the city walls, as within, bore witness to the graciousnessof the Emperor in the prolonged holiday he had granted the people. Itwas as if the Saturnalia had arrived. Industry, such as there ever is,was suspended; all were sitting idle, or thronging some game, orgathering in noisy groups about some mountebank. As we advanced farther,and came just beyond the great road leading to Tibur, we passed theschool of the celebrated gladiator Sosia, at the door of which there hadjust arrived from the amphitheatre, a cart bearing home the bodies ofsuch as had been slain the preceding day, presenting a disgustingspectacle of wounds, bruises, and flowing blood.

  'There was brave fighting yesterday,' said Milo; these are but a few outof all that fell. The first day's sport was an hundred of the trainedgladiators, most of them from the school of Sosia, set against a hundredpicked captives of all nations. Not less than a half of each number gotit. These fellows look as if they had done their best. You've foughtyour last battle, old boys--unless you have a bout with Charon, who willbe loath, I warrant you beforehand, to ferry over such a slashed andswollen company. Now ought you in charity,' he continued, addressing ahalf-naked savage, who was helping to drag the bodies from the cart, 'tohave these trunks well washed ere you bury them, or pitch them into theTiber, else they will never get over the Styx--not forgetting too theferriage--' what more folly he would have uttered, I know not, for thewretch to whom he spoke suddenly seized the lash of the driver of thecart, and laid it over Milo's shoulders, saying, as he did it,

  'Off, fool, or my fist shall do for you what it did for one of these.'

  The bystanders, at this, set up a hoarse shouting, one of themexclaiming, so that I could hear him--

  'There goes the Christian Piso, we or the lions will have a turn at himyet. These are the fellows that spoil our trade.'

  'If report goes true, they won't spoil it long,' replied another.

  No rank and no power is secure against the affronts of this lawlesstribe; they are a sort of licensed brawlers, their brutal and inhumantrade rendering them insensible to all fear from any quarter. Death isto them but as a scratch on the finger--they care not for it, when norhow it comes. The slightest cause--a passing word--a look--a motion--isenough to inflame their ferocious passions, and bring on quarrel andmurder. Riot and death are daily occurrences in the neighborhood ofthese schools of trained assassins. Milo knew their character wellenough, but he deemed himself to be uttering somewhat that should amuserather than enrage, and was mortified rather than terrified, I believe,at the sudden application of the lash. The unfeigned surprise hemanifested, together with the quick leap which his horse made, whopartook of the blow, was irresistibly ludicrous. He was nearly thrownoff backwards in the speed of the animal's flight along the road. It wassome time before I overtook him.

  'Intermeddling,' I said to Milo, as I came up with him, 'is a dangerousvice. How feel your shoulders?'

  'I shall remember that one-eyed butcher, and if there be virtue inhisses or in thumbs, he shall rue the hour he laid a lash on Gallienus,poor fellow! Whose horsemanship is equal to such an onset? I'll hauntthe theatre till my chance come.'

  'Well, well, let us forget this. How went the games yesterday?'

  'Never, as I hear,' he said, 'and as I remember, were they more liberal,or more magnificent. Larger, or more beautiful, or finer beasts, neitherAsia nor Africa ever sent over. They fought as if they had been trainedto it, like these scholars of Sosia, and in most cases they bore awaythe palm from them. How many of Sosia's men exactly fell, it is notknown, but not fewer than threescore men were either torn in pieces, orrescued too much lacerated to fight more.'

  'What captives were sacrificed?'

  'I did not learn of what nation they were, nor how many. All I know, iswhat I witnessed toward the end of the sport. Never before did I beholdsuch a form, nor such feats of strength! He was another Hercules. It wasrumored he was from the forests of Germany. If you will believe it,which I scarce can, though I saw it, he fought successively with six ofSosia's best men, and one after another laid them all sprawling. Aseventh was then set upon him, he having no time to breathe, or evendrink. Many however cried out against this. But Romans, you know, likenot to have their fun spoiled, so the seventh was not taken off. Asevery one foresaw, this was too much by just one for the hero; but hefought desperately, and it is believed Sosia's man got pushes he willnever recover from. He was soon however on his knees, and then on hisback, the sword of his antagonist at his throat, he lying like a gaspingfish at his mercy--who waited the pleasure of the spectators a moment,before he struck. Then was there a great shouting all over the theatrein his behalf, besides making the sign to spare him. But just at themoment, as for him ill fortune would have it, some poltroon cried outwith a voice that went all over the theatre, 'The dog is a Christian!'Whereupon, like lightning, every thumb went up, and down plunged thesword into his neck. So, master, thou seest what I tell thee every day,there is small virtue in being a Christian. It is every way dangerous.If a thief run through the streets the cry is, a Christian! a Christian!If a man is murdered, they who did it accuse some neighboring Christian,and he dies for it. If a Christian fall into the Tiber, men look on ason a drowning-dog. If he slip or fall in a crowd, they will help totrample him to death. If he is sick or poor, none but his own tribe willhelp him. A slave has a better chance. Even the Jew despises him, andspits upon his gown as he passes. What but the love of contempt anddeath can make one a Christian, 'tis hard to see. Had that captive beenother than a Christian, he would not have fallen as he did.'

  'Very likely. But the Christians, you know, frequent not theamphitheatre. Had they been there in their just proportion to the rest,the voice would at least have been a divided one.'

  'Nay, as for that.' he rejoined, 'there were some stout voices raised inhis behalf to the last, but too few to be regarded. But even in thestreets, where all sorts are found, there is none to ta
ke theChristian's part--unless it be that old gashed soldier of the fifthlegion, who stalks through the streets as though all Rome were his. Bythe gods, I believe he would beard Aurelian himself! He will stand at acorner, in some public place, and preach to the crowds, and give neveran inch for all their curses and noise. They fear him too much, Ibelieve, to attack him with aught but words. And I wonder not at it. Afew days since, a large dog was in wicked wantonness, as I must allow,set upon a poor Christian boy. Macer, so he is called about the city, atthe moment came up. Never tiger seized his prey as he seized that dog,and first dashing out his brains upon the pavement, pursued then thepursuers of the boy, and beat them to jelly with the carcase of thebeast, and then walked away unmolested, leading the child to his home.'

  'Men reverence courage, Milo, everywhere and in all.'

  'That do they. It was so with me once, when Gallienus--'

  'Gallop, Milo, to that mile-stone, and report to me how far we havecome.'

  I still as ever extract much, Fausta, from my faithful if foolish slave.

  * * * * *

  In due time and without hindrance, or accident, I reached the outer gateof my friend's villa.

  The gate was opened by Coelia, whose husband is promoted to the placeof porter. Her face shone as she saw me, and she hastened to assure methat all were well at the house, holding up at the same moment acurly-headed boy for me to admire, whom, with a blush and a falteringtongue, she called Lucius. I told her I was pleased with the name, forit was a good one, and he should not suffer for bearing it, if I couldhelp it. Milo thought it unlucky enough that it should be named after aChristian, and I am certain has taken occasion to remonstrate with itsmother on the subject; but, as you may suppose, did not succeed ininfusing his own terrors.

  I was first met by Lucilia, who received me with her usual heartiness.Marcus was out on some remote part of the estate, overseeing his slaves.In a few moments, by the assiduous Lucilia and her attendants, I wasbrushed and washed and set down to a table--though it was so few hourssince I had left Rome--covered with bread, honey, butter and olives, acold capon with salads, and wine such as the cellars of Marcus alone canfurnish. As the only way in which to keep the good opinion of Luciliais to eat, I ate of all that was on the table, she assuring me thateverything was from their own grounds--the butter made by her ownhands--and that I might search Rome in vain for better. This I readilyadmitted. Indeed no butter is like hers--so yellow and so hard--norbread so light, and so white. Even her honey is more delicious than whatI find elsewhere, the bees knowing by instinct who they are working for;and the poultry is fatter and tenderer, the hens being careful never toover-fatigue themselves, and the peacocks and the geese not to exhaustthemselves in screaming and cackling. All nature, alive and dead, takesupon itself a trimmer and more perfect seeming within her influences.

  I had sat thus gossipping with Lucilia, enjoying the balmy breezes of awarm autumn day, as they drew through the great hall of the house, when,preceded by the bounding Gallus, the master of the house entered infield dress of broad sun-hat, open neck, close coat depending to theknees, and boots that brought home with them the spoils of many awell-ploughed field.

  'Well, sir Christian,' he cried, 'I joy to see thee, although thusrecreant. But how is it that thou lookest as ever before? Are not thesevanities of silk, and gold, and fine clothes, renounced by those of thenew religion? Your appearance says nay, and, by Jupiter! wine has beendrunk already! Nay, nay, Lucilia, it was hardly a pagan act to tempt ourstrict friend with that Falernian.'

  'Falernian is it?'

  'Yes, of the vintage of the fourth of Gallienus. Delicious, was it not?But by and by thou shalt taste something better than that--as muchbetter as that is than anything of the same name thou didst ever raiseto thy lips at the table of Aurelian. Piso! never was a face morewelcome! Not a soul has looked in upon us for days and days. Not,Lucilia, since the Kalends, when young Flaccus, with a boat-load ofroysterers, dropt down the river. But why comes not Julia too? She couldnot leave the games and theatres, hah?'

  'Marcus,' said Lucilia, 'you forget it was the princess who firstseduced Lucius. But for that eastern voyage for the Persian Calpurnius,Piso would have been still, I dare say, what his parents made him. Letus not yet however stir this topic; but first of all, Lucius, give usthe city news. How went the dedication? we have heard strange tales.'

  'How went it by report?' I asked.

  'O, it would be long telling,' said Lucilia. 'Only, for one thing, weheard that there was a massacre of the Christians, in which some saidhundreds, and some, thousands fell. For a moment, I assure you, wetrembled for you. It was quickly contradicted, but the confirmationafforded by your actual presence, of your welfare, is not unwelcome. Youmust lay a part of the heartiness of our reception, especially the oldFalernian, to the account of our relieved fears. But let us hear.'

  I then went over the last days in Rome, adding what I had been able togather from Milo, when it was such that I could trust to it. When I hadsatisfied their curiosity, and had moreover described to Lucilia thedresses of Livia on so great an occasion, and the fashions which wereraging, Marcus proposed that I should accompany him over his farm, andobserve his additions and improvements, and the condition of his slaves.I accepted the proposal with pleasure, and we soon set forth on ourramble, accompanied by Gallus, now riding his stick and now gambollingabout the lawns and fields with his dog.

  I like this retreat of Curtius better almost than any other of thesuburban villas of our citizens. There is an air of calm senatorialdignity about it which modern edifices want. It looks as if it had seenmore than one generation of patrician inhabitants. There is little unityor order--as those words are commonly understood--observable in thestructure of the house, but it presents to the eye an irregularassemblage of forms, the work of different ages, and built according tothe taste and skill of distant and changing times. Some portions arenew, some old and covered with lichens, mosses, and creeping plants.Here is a portico of the days of Trajan, and there a tower that seems asif it were of the times of the republic. Yet is there a certain harmonyand congruity running through the whole, for the material used iseverywhere the same--a certain fawn-colored stone drawn from thequarries in the neighborhood; and each successive owner and architecthas evidently paid some regard to preceding erections in the design andproportions of the part he has added. In this unity of character, aswell as in the separate beauty or greatness of distinct parts, is itmade evident that persons of accomplishment and rank have alonepossessed it. Of its earlier history all that Curtius has with certaintyascertained is, that it was once the seat of the great Hortensius,before he had, in the growth of his fame and his riches, displayed hisluxurious tastes in the wonders of Tusculum, Bauli, or Laurentum. It wasthe first indication given by him of that love of elegant and lavishwastefulness, that gave him at last as wide a celebrity as his genius.The part which he built is well known, and although of moderatedimensions, yet displays the rudiments of that taste that afterward wassatisfied only with more than imperial magnificence. Marcus hassatisfied himself as to the very room which he occupied as his study andlibrary, and where he prepared himself for the morning courts; and inthe same apartment--hoping as he says to catch something from the geniusof the place--does he apply himself to the same professional labors. Hisname and repute are now second to none in Rome. Yet, young as he is, hebegins to weary of the bar, and woo the more quiet pursuits of lettersand philosophy. Nay, at the present moment, agriculture claims all hisleisure, and steals time that can ill be spared from his clients. Varroand Cato have more of his devotion than statutes and precedents.

  In the disposition of the grounds, Marcus has shown that he inheritssomething of the tastefulness of his remote predecessor; and in theharvest that covers his extensive acres, gives equal evidence that hehas studied, not without profit, the labors of those who have writtenupon husbandry and its connected arts. Varro especially is at histongue's end.

  We soon came
to the quarter of the slaves--a village almost of thehumble tenements occupied by this miserable class. None but the women,children, sick and aged, were now at home--the young and able-bodiedbeing abroad at work. No new disturbances have broken out, he tells me;the former severity, followed by a well-timed lenity, having subdued orconciliated all. Curtius, although fond of power and of all itsensigns, yet conceals not his hatred of this institution, which has solong obtained in the Roman state, as in all states. He can devise no wayof escape from it; but he sees in it the most active and general causeof the corruption of morals which is spread everywhere where itprevails. He cannot suppress his contempt of the delusion or hypocrisyof our ancestors in terming themselves republicans.

  'What a monstrous solecism was it,' he broke out with energy, 'in thetimes preceding the empire, to call that a free country which was builtupon the degradation and slavery of half of its population. Rome neverwas a republic. It was simply a faction of land and slave holders, whoblinded and befooled the ignorant populace, by parading before them someof the forms of liberty, but kept the power in their own hands. Theywere a community of petty kings, which was better in their mind thanonly one king, as in the time of the Tarquins. It was a republic ofkingdoms and of kings, if you will. Now and then, indeed, the peoplebustled about and shook their chains, as in the times of the institutionof the tribune's office, and those of the Gracchi. But they gainednothing. The patricians were still the kings who ruled them. And amongno people can there be liberty where slavery exists--liberty, I mean,properly so called. He who holds slaves cannot, in the nature of things,be a republican; but, in the nature of things, he is on the other hand adespot. I am one. And a nation of such individuals is an association ofdespots for despotic purposes, and nothing else nor better. Liberty intheir mouths is a profanation of the sacred name. It signifies nothingbut their liberty to reign. I confess, it is to those who happen to bethe kings a very agreeable state of things. I enjoy my power and statemightily. But I am not blind to the fact--my own experience teachesit--that it is a state of things corrupt and rotten to theheart--destructive everywhere of the highest form of the humancharacter. It nurses and brings out the animal, represses and embrutesthe god that is within us. It makes of man a being of violence, force,passion, and the narrowest selfishness; while reason and humanity, whichshould distinguish him, are degraded and oppressed. Such men are not thestuff that republics are made of. A republic may endure for a time inspite of them, owing to fortunate circumstances of another kind; butwherever they obtain a preponderance in the state, liberty will expire,or exist only in the insulting forms in which she waved her bloodysceptre during most of our early history. Slavery and despotism arenatural allies.'

  'I rejoice,' I said, 'to find a change in you, at least in the theorywhich you adopt.'

  'I certainly am changed,' he replied; 'and such as the change may be, isit owing, sir Christian, to thy calm and yet fiery epistles fromPalmyra. Small thanks do I owe thee for making me uncomfortable in aposition from which I cannot escape. Once proud of my slaves and mypower, I am already ashamed of both; but while my principles havealtered, my habits and character, which slavery has created and nursedremain beyond any power of man, so far as I can see, to change them.What they are, you well know. So that here, in my middle age, I suffera retribution, that should have been reserved till I had been dismissedfrom the dread tribunal of Rhadamanthus.'

  'I see not, Curtius, why you should not escape from the position you arein, if you sincerely desire it, which I suppose you do not.'

  'That, to be honest--which at least I am--is I believe the case.'

  'I do not doubt it, as it is with all who are situated like yourself.Most, however, defend the principle as well as cling to the form ofslavery.'

  'Nay, that I cannot do. That I never did, since my beard was grown. Ifancy myself to have from the gods a good heart. He is essentially of acorrupt heart who will stand for slavery in its principle. He is withoutanything generous in his nature. Cold selfishness marks and makes him.But supposing I as sincerely desired to escape--as I sincerely donot--what, O most wise mentor, should be the manner?'

  'First and at once, to treat them no longer as slaves, but as men.'

  'That I am just beginning to do. What else?'

  'If you are sincere, as I say, and moreover, if you possess the exaltedand generous traits which we patricians ever claim for ourselves, showit them by giving their freedom one by one to those who are now slaves,even though it result in the loss of one half of your fortune. That willbe a patrician act. What was begun in crime by others, cannot beperpetuated without equal crime in us. The enfranchised will soon minglewith the people, and, as we see every day, become one with it. Thisprocess is going on at this moment in all my estates. Before my will isexecuted, I shall hope to have disposed in this manner of every slave inmy possession.'

  'One can hardly look to emulate such virtues as this new-found Christianphilosophy seems to have engendered within thy noble bosom, Piso; butthe subject must be weighed. There is nothing so agreeable in prospectas to do right; but, like some distant stretches of land and hill, waterand wood, the beauty is all gone as it draws near. It is then absolutelya source of pain and disgust. I will write a treatise upon the greattheme.'

  'If you write, Curtius, I shall despair of any action, all yourphilanthropy will evaporate in a cloud of words.'

  'But that will be the way, I think, to restore my equanimity. I believeI shall feel quite easy after a little declamation. Here, Lucius, regalethyself upon these grapes. These are from the isles of the GrecianArchipelago, and for sweetness are not equalled by any of our own.Gallus, Gallus, go not so near to the edge of the pond; it is deep, as Ihave warned you. I have lampreys there, Piso, bigger than any thatHortensius ever wept for. Gallus, you dog! away, I say.'

  But Gallus heeded not the command of his father. He already wasbeginning to have a little will of his own. He continued playing uponthe margin of the water, throwing in sticks for his dog to bring to himagain. Perceiving his danger to be great, I went to him and forciblydrew him away, he and his dog setting up a frightful music of screamsand yelping. Marcus was both entertained and amazed at the feat.

  'Piso,' he jocosely cried out, 'there is a good deal of the oldrepublican in you. You even treat free men as slaves. That boy--a man inwill--never had before such restraint upon his liberty.'

  'Liberty with restraint,' I answered, 'operating upon all, and equallyupon all, is the true account of a state of freedom. Gallus unrestrainedis a slave--a slave of passion and the sport of chance. He is not trulyfree until he is bound.'

  With such talk we amused ourselves as we wandered over the estate,through its more wild and more cultivated parts. Dinner was presentlyannounced, and we hastened to the house.

  Lucilia awaited us in a small six-sided cabinet, fitted up purposely fora dining-room for six or eight persons. It was wholly cased with a richmarble of a pale yellow hue, beautifully panelled, having three windowsopening upon a long portico with a southern aspect, set out with exoticsin fancifully arranged groups. The marble panels of the room were socontrived that, at a touch, they slipped aside and disclosed in richarray, here the choicest wines, there sauces and spices of a thousandsorts, and there again the rarest confections brought from China and theEast. Apicius himself could have fancied nothing more perfect--for theleast dissatisfaction with the flavor of a dish, or the kind of wine,could be removed by merely reaching out the hand and drawing, from aninexhaustible treasure-house, both wines and condiments, such as scarceRome itself could equal. This was an apartment contrived and built byHortensius himself.

  The dinner was worthy the room and its builder, the marbles, theprospect, the guest, the host, and the hostess. The aforementionedApicius would have never once thought of the panelled cupboards. No dishwould have admitted of addition or alteration.

  When the feasting was over, and with it the lighter conversation, andmore disjointed and various, which usually accompanies it, Marcus arose,and wit
hdrawing one of the sliding panels, with much gravity and state,drew forth a glass pitcher of exquisite form filled with wine, saying,as he did so,

  'All, Piso, that you have as yet tasted is but as water of the Tiber tothis. This is more than nectar. The gods have never been so happy as tohave seen the like. I am their envy. It is Falernian, that once saw thewine vaults of Heliogabalus! Not a drop of Chian has ever touched it. Itis pure, unadulterate. Taste, and be translated.'

  I acknowledged, as I well might, its unequalled flavor.

  'This nectarean draught,' he continued, 'I even consider to possesspurifying and exalting qualities. He who drinks it is for the time of ahigher nature. It is better for the temper than a chapter of Seneca orEpictetus. It brings upon the soul a certain divine calm, favorablebeyond any other state to the growth of the virtues. Could it become ofuniversal use, mankind were soon a race of gods. Even Christianity werethen made unnecessary--admitting it to be that unrivalled moral enginewhich you Christians affirm it to be. It is favorable also todispassionate discussion, Piso, a little of which I would now invite.Know you not, I have scarce seen you since your assumption of your newname and faith? What bad demon possessed you, in evil hour, to throwRome and your friends into such a ferment?'

  'Had you become, Lucius,' said Lucilia, 'a declaiming advocate ofEpicurus, or a street-lecturer upon Plato, or turned priest of Apollo'snew temple, it would have all been quite tolerable, though amazing--butChristian!'--

  'Yes, Lucius, it is too bad,' added Marcus. 'If you were in want ofmoral strength, you would have done better to have begged some of myFalernian. You should not have been denied.'

  'Or,' said Lucilia,'some of my Smyrna cordial.'

  'At least,' continued Marcus, 'you might have come to me for some of mywisdom, which I keep ready, at a moment's warning, in quantities to suitall applicants.'

  'Or to me,' said Lucilia, 'for some of my every day good-sense, which,you know, I possess in such abundance, though I have not sat at the feetof philosophers.'

  'But seriously, Lucius,' began Marcus in altered mood, 'this is a mostextraordinary movement of yours. I should like to be able to interpretit. If you must needs have what you call religion, of which I, for mypart, can see no earthly occasion, here were plenty of forms in which toreceive it, more ancient and more respectable than this of theChristians.'

  'I am almost unwilling to converse on this topic with you, Marcus,' Irejoined, 'for there is nothing in your nature, or rather in youreducated nature, to which to appeal with the least hope of anyprofitable result, either to me, or you. The gods have, as you say,given you a good heart--I may add too, a most noble head; but, yourselfand education together, have made you so thoroughly a man of the world,that the interests of any other part of your nature, save those of theintellect and the senses, are to you precisely as if they did notexist.'

  'Right, Lucius; therein do I claim honor and distinction. Theintangible, the invisible, the vague, the shadowy, I leave to women andpriests--concerning myself only with the substantial realities of life.Great Jupiter! what would become of mankind were we all women, andpriests? How could the courts go on--senates sit, and deliberate--armiesconquer? I think the world would stand still. However, I object not to apopular faith, such as that which now obtains throughout, the Romanworld. If mankind, as history seems to prove, must and will havesomething of the kind, this perhaps is as good as anything else; and,seeing it has once become established and fixed in the way it has, Ithink it ought no more to be disturbed than men's faith in theirpolitical institutions. Our concern should be, merely to regulate it,that it grow not too large, and so overlay and crush the state. Fanaticsand bigots must be hewn away. There must be an occasional infusion ofdoubt and indifference into the mass, to keep it from fermenting. Youcannot be offended, Lucius, at the way in which I speak of yournew-adopted faith. I think no better of any other. Epicureans, Stoics,Platonists, Jews, Christians, they are all alike to me. I hold them allat arms length. I have listened to them all; and more idle, indigestedfancies never did I hear--no, not from the new-fledged advocate playingthe rhetorician at his first appearance.'

  'I do not wonder, Curtius, that you have turned away dissatisfied withthe philosophers. I do not wonder that you reject the popularsuperstitions. But I do wonder, that you will prejudge any question, orinfer the intrinsic incredibility of whatever may take the form ofreligion, from the intrinsic incredibility of what the world hasheretofore possessed. It surely is not a philosophical method.'

  'Not in other things, I grant,' replied Marcus; 'but concerning thisquestion of popular superstition, or religion, the only philosophicalthing is, to discard the whole subject, as one deserving severeinvestigation. The follies which the populace have, in all nations, andin all time, adopted, let them be retained, and even defended andsupported by the State. They perform a not unimportant office inregulating the conduct, and manners of men--in preserving a certainorder in the world. But beyond this, it seems to me, the subject isunworthy the regard of a reflecting person. One world and one life isenough to manage at a time. If there be others, and if there be a Godwho governs them, it will be time enough to know these things when theyare made plain to the senses, as these trees and hills now are, and yourwell-shaped form. This peering into futurity, in the expectation toarrive at certainty, seems to me much as if one should hope to make outthe forms of cities, palaces, and groves, by gazing into the empty air,or on the clouds. Besides, of what use?'

  'Of what use indeed?' added Lucilia. 'I want no director or monitor,concerning any duty or act, which it falls to me to perform, other thanI find within me. I have no need of a divine messenger, to stand ever atmy side, to tell me what I must do, and what I must forbear. I havewithin me instincts and impulses, which I find amply sufficient. Thecare and duty of every day is very much alike, and a little experienceand observation, added to the inward instinct, makes me quite superiorto most difficulties and evils as they arise. The gods, or whateverpower gave us our nature, have not left us dependent for these things,either on what is called religion or philosophy.'

  'What you say,' I rejoined, 'is partly true. The gods have not left usdependent exclusively, upon either religion, or philosophy. There is anatural religion of the heart and the conscience, which is born with us,grows up with us, and never forsakes us. But then, after all, howdefective and incomplete a principle it is. It has chiefly to do, onlywith our daily conduct; it cannot answer our doubts, or satisfy our mostreal wants. It differs too with the constitution of the individual. Insome, it is a principle of much greater value and efficacy, than inothers. Your instincts are clear, and powerful, and direct you aright.But, in another, they are obscure, and weak, and leave the mind in thegreatest perplexity. It is by no means all that they want. Then, are notthe prevalent superstitions most injurious in their influences upon thecommon mind? Can you doubt, whether more of good or evil, is derived tothe soul, from the ideas it entertains of the character, and providenceof the gods? Can you be insensible to the horrible enormities, andnameless vices, which make a part, even of what is called religion? Andis there no need--if men will have religion in some form--that theyshould receive it in a better one? Can you not conceive of such views ofGod and his worship, of duty, virtue, and immortality being presented,that they shall strike the mind as reasonable in themselves, and ofbeneficial instead of hurtful power, upon being adopted? Can you notimagine your own mind, and the minds of people generally, to be sodevoted to a high and sublime conception of the Divinity, and offuturity, as to be absolutely incapable of an act, that should displeasehim, or forfeit the hope of immortality?'

  'Hardly,' said Marcus and Lucilia.

  'Well, suppose it were so. Or rather, if you cannot imagine such a stateof things, multitudes can. You are not a fair specimen of our kind, butonly of a comparatively small class. Generally--so I have found it--themind is seeking about for something better than what any human systemhas as yet proposed, and is confident of nothing more than of this, thatmen may be put in possess
ion of truths, that shall carry them on as farbeyond what their natural instincts now can do, as these instincts carrythem on beyond any point to which the brutes ever arrive. This,certainly, was my own conviction, before I met with Christianity. Now,Marcus and Lucilia, what is this Christianity, but a revelation fromHeaven, whose aim is to give to you, and to all, such conceptions ofGod, and futurity, as I have just spoken of?'--I then, finding that Ihad obtained a hearing, went into an account of the religion of Christ,as I had received it from the books themselves, and which to you I neednot repeat. They listened with considerable patience--though I wascareful not to use many words--but without any expression ofcountenance, or manner, that indicated any very favorable change intheir opinions or feelings. As I ended, Marcus said,

  'I shall always think better of this religion, Lucius, that you haveadopted it, though I cannot say that your adopting it, will raise myjudgment of you. I do not at present see upon what grounds it stands sofirm, or divine, that a citizen is defensible in abandoning for it, anostensible reception of, and faith in, the existing forms of the State.However, I incline to allow freedom in these matters to scholars andspeculative minds. Let them work out and enjoy their own fancies--theyare a restless, discontented, ambitious herd, and should, for the sakeof their genius, be humored in the particular pursuits where they haveplaced their happiness. But, when they leave their proper vocation, andturn propagators and reformers, and aim at the subversion of things nowfirmly established and prosperous, then--although I myself should nevermeddle in such matters--it is scarcely a question whether the power ofthe State should interpose, and lay upon them the necessary restraints.Upon the whole, Lucius Piso, I think, that I, and Lucilia, had betterturn preachers, and exhort you to return to the faith, or no-faith,which you have abandoned. Leave such things to take care of themselves.What have you gained but making yourself an object of popular aversionor distrust? You have abandoned the community of the polite, therefined, the sober, where by nature you belong, and have associatedyourself with a vulgar crew, of--forgive my freedom, I speak the commonjudgment, that you may know what it is--of ignorant fanatics or craftyknaves, who care for you no further, than as by your great name, theymay stand a little higher in the world. I protest, before Jupiter, thatto save others like you from such loss, I feel tempted to hunt over thestatute books for some law, now obsolete and forgotten, but not legallydead, that may be brought to bear upon this mischief, and give itanother Decian blight, which, if it do not kill, may yet check, andobstruct its growth.'

  I replied, 'that from him I could apprehend, he well knew, no such deedof folly or guilt--however likely it was that others might, do it, andglory in their shame; that his nature would save him from such a deed,though his principles might not.' I told him, moreover, 'that I did notdespair of his looking upon Christianity with a favorable judgment ingood time. He had been willing to hear; and there was that secret charmin the truths and doctrines of Christ's religion, and especially in hischaracter, that, however rudely set forth, the mind could scarcelyresist it; against its will, it would, oftentimes, find itself subduedand changed. The seeds I have now dropt upon your hearts, I trust, willsome day spring up, and bear such fruit as you yourselves will rejoicein.'

  'So,' said Marcus, 'may the wheat spilled into the Tiber, or sown amongrocks, or eaten by the birds.'

  'And that may be, though not to-day or to-morrow,' I replied. 'The seedof things essential to man's life, as of wheat, is not easily killed. Itmay be buried for years and years, yet, turned up at length, to the sun,and its life sprouts upward in leaf, and stem, and fruit. Borne down bythe waters of the Tiber, and apparently lost, it may be cast up upon theshores of Egypt, or Britain, and fulfil its destiny. The seed of truthis longer-lived still--by reason that what it bears is more essentialthan wheat, or other grain, to man's best life.'

  'Well, well,' said Marcus, 'let us charge our goblets with the bottom ofthis Falernian, and forgetting whether there be such an entity as truthor not, drink to the health of the princess Julia.'

  'That comes nearer our hearts,' said Lucilia, 'than anything that hasbeen spoken for the last hour. When you return, Lucius, Laco must followyou with a mule-load of some of my homely products'---- She was about toadd more, when we were all alike startled and alarmed by cries,seemingly of deep distress, and rapidly approaching. We sprang from ourseats, when the door of the room was violently flung open, and a slaverushed in, crying out,

  'Oh, sir! Gallus--Gallus'--

  'What is it? What is it?'--cried Marcus and Lucilia. 'Speak quick--hashe fallen--'

  'Yes, alas! the pond--the fish-pond--run--fly--'

  Distractedly we hurried to the spot already surrounded by a crowd ofslaves. 'Who had been with him? Where had he fallen? How did it happen?'were questions hastily asked, but which no one could answer. It was amiserable scene of agony, confusion, and despair--Marcus ordering hisslaves to dive into the pond, then uttering curses upon them, andcommanding those to whom Gallus was usually entrusted, to the rack. Noone could swim, no one could dive. It was long since I had made use ofan art which I once possessed, but instantly I cast off my uppergarments, and, needing no other direction to the true spot than thebarking of the little dog, and his jumping in and out of thewater--first learning that the water was deep, and of an even bottom, Ithrew myself in, and, in a moment, guided by the white dress of thelittle fellow, I grasped him, and drew him to the surface.

  Life was apparently, and probably, to my mind, extinct; but expressing ahope that means might yet be resorted to that should restore him, I borehim in my arms to the house. But it was all in vain. Gallus was dead.

  * * * * *

  I shall not inflict a new sadness upon you, Fausta, by describing thegrief of my friends, or any of the incidents of the days and weeks I nowpassed with them. They were heavy, and melancholy indeed; for thesorrows, of both Lucilia and Marcus, were excessive and inconsolable. Icould do nothing for them, nor say anything to them in the hope tocomfort them; yet, while they were thus incapacitated for all action, Icould serve them essentially by placing myself at the head of theiraffairs, and relieving them of common cares and duties, that mustotherwise have been neglected, or have proved irksome and oppressive.

  The ashes of Gallus, committed to a small marble urn, have beendeposited in a tomb in the centre of Lucilia's flower garden, which willsoon be embowered by flowers and shrubs, which her hand will delight totrain around it.

  On the eve of the day when I was to leave them and return to Rome, wesat together in a portico which overlooks the Tiber. Marcus and Luciliawere sad, but, at length, in some sort, calm. The first violence ofsorrow had spent itself, and reflection was beginning to succeed.

  'I suppose,' said Marcus, 'your rigid faith greatly condemns all thisshow of suffering, which you have witnessed, Piso, in us, as, if notcriminal, at least weak and childish?'

  'Not so, by any means,' I rejoined. 'The religion of the Christians, iswhat one may term a natural religion; it does violence to not one of thegood affections and propensities. Coming, as we maintain, from theCreator of our bodies and our minds, it does them no injury, it wars notwith any of their natural elements, but most strictly harmonizes withthem. It aims to direct, to modify, to heal, to moderate--but never toalter or annihilate. Love of our offspring, is not more according to ournature, than grief for the loss of them. Grief, therefore, isinnocent--even as praiseworthy, as love. What trace of humanwisdom--much less of divine--would there be in the arrangement, thatshould first bind us by chains of affection as strong as adamant to achild, or a parent, or a friend, and then treat the sorrow as criminalthat wept, with whatever violence, as it saw the links broken andscattered, never again to be joined together?'

  'That certainly is a proof that some just ideas are to be found in youropinions,' replied my friend. 'By nothing was I ever more irreconcilablyoffended in the stoical philosophy, than by its harsh violence towardsnature under suffering. To be treated by your philosophy with rudenessan
d contempt, because you yield to emotions which are as natural, and,therefore, in my judgment, as innocent as any, is, as if one were struckwith violence by a friend or a parent, to whom you fled for protectionor comfort. The doctrines of all the others failed in the same way. Eventhe Epicureans hold it a weakness, and even a wrong, to grieve, seeingthe injury that is thereby done to happiness. Grief must be suppressed,and banished, because it is accompanied by pain. That too, seemed to mea false sentiment; because, although grief is indeed in some sortpainful, yet it is not wholly so, but is attended by a kind of pleasure.How plain it is, that I should suffer greatly more, were I forciblyrestrained by a foreign power, or my own, from shedding these tears, anduttering these sighs for Gallus, than I do now while I am free toindulge my natural feelings. In truth, it is the only pleasure thatgrief brings with it--the freedom of indulging it.'

  'He,' I said, as Marcus paused, giving way afresh to his sorrow, 'whoembraces the Christian doctrine, is never blamed, condemned, orridiculed by it for the indulgence of the emotions, to which, the lossof those whom we love, gives birth. But then, at the same time, he willprobably grieve and suffer much less under such circumstances thanyou--not, however, because he is forcibly restrained, but because of theinfluence upon his mind and his heart, of truths and opinions, which, asa Christian, he entertains, and which, without any will or act of hisown, work within him and strengthen and console him. The Christianbelieving, so firmly as he does, for example, in a God, not only ongrounds of reason but of express revelation, and that this God is aparent, exercising a providence over his creatures, regardless of none,loving as a parent all, who has created mankind, not for his ownamusement or honor, but that life and happiness might be diffused: theywho believe thus, must feel very differently under adversity, from thosewho, like yourself, believe nothing of it at all, and from those who,like the disciples of the Porch and the Academy, believe but aninconsiderable part of it. Suppose, Marcus and Lucilia, your wholepopulation of slaves were, instead of strangers and slaves, yourchildren, toward whom you experienced the same sentiments of deepaffection that you did toward Gallus, how would you not consult fortheir happiness; and how plain it is, that whatever laws you might setover them, they would be laws of love, the end of which, however theymight not always recognize it, would be their happiness--happinessthrough their virtue. This may represent, with sufficient exactness, thelight in which Christians regard the Divinity, and the laws of lifeunder which they find themselves. Admitting, therefore, their faith tobe well founded, and how manifest is it that they will necessarilysuffer less under adversity than you; and not because any violence isdone to their nature, but because of the benignant influences of suchtruths.'

  'What you say,' observed Lucilia, 'affects the mind very agreeably; andgives a pleasing idea, both of the wisdom and mercy of the Christianfaith. It seems at any rate to be suited to such creatures as we are.What a pity that it is so difficult to discern truth.'

  'It is difficult,' I replied; 'the best things are always so: but it isnot impossible; what is necessary to our happiness, is never so. A mindof common powers, well disposed, seeking with a real desire to find,will rarely retire from the search wholly unsuccessful. The greatessentials to our daily well-being, and the right conduct of life, theCreator has supplied through our instincts. Your natural religion, ofwhich you have spoken, you find sufficient for most of the occurrenceswhich arise, both of doing and bearing. But there are other emergenciesfor which it is as evidently insufficient. Now, as the Creator hassupplied so perfectly in all breasts the natural religion, which is soessential, it is fair to say and believe, that He would not makeadditional truths, almost equally essential to our happiness, either ofimpossible attainment, or encompassed by difficulties which could not,with a little diligence and perseverance, be overcome.'

  'It would seem so, certainly,' said Marcus; 'but it is so long since Ihave bestowed any thought upon philosophical inquiries, that to me thelabor would be very great, and the difficulties extreme--for, atpresent, there is scarcely so much as a mere shred or particle of faith,to which as a nucleus other truths may attach themselves. In truth, Inever look even to possess any clear faith in a God--it seems to be asubject wholly beyond the scope and grasp of my mind. I cannot entertainthe idea of self-existence. I can conceive of God neither as one, nor asdivided into parts. Is he infinite and everywhere, himself constitutinghis universe?--then he is scarcely a God; or, is he a being dwellingapart from his works, and watching their obedience to their imposedlaws? In neither of these conceptions can I rest.'

  'It is not strange,' I replied; 'nor that, refusing to believe in thefact of a God until you should be able to comprehend him perfectly, youshould to this hour be without faith. If I had waited before believing,until I understood, I should at this moment be as faithless as you, oras I was before I received Christianity. Do I comprehend the Deity? CanI describe the mode of his being? Can I tell you in what manner hesprang into existence? And whether he is necessarily everywhere in hisworks, and as it were constituting them? Or whether he has power tocontract himself, and dwell apart from them, their omniscient observer,and omnipotent Lord? I know nothing of all this; the religion which Ireceive, teaches nothing of all this. Christianity does not demonstratethe being of a God, it simply proclaims it; hardly so much as thatindeed. It supposes it, as what was already well known and generallybelieved. I cannot doubt that it is left thus standing by itself,untaught and unexplained, only because the subject is intrinsicallyincomprehensible by us. It is a great fact or truth, which all canreceive, but which none can explain or prove. If it is not believed,either instinctively, or through the recognition of it, and declarationof it, in some revelation, it cannot be believed at all. It needs themind of God to comprehend God. The mind of man is no more competent toreach and grasp the theme through reason, than his hands are to mould asun. All the reasonings, imaginations, guesses, of self-styledphilosophers, are here like the prattlings of children. They make yousmile, but they do not instruct.'

  'I fear,' said Marcus, 'I shall then never believe, for I can believenothing of which I cannot form a conception.'

  'Surely,' I answered, 'our faith is not bounded by our conceptions, orour knowledge, in other things. We build the loftiest palaces andtemples upon foundations of stone, though we can form no conceptionwhatever of the nature of a stone. So I think we may found a true andsufficient religion on our belief in the fact of a God, although we canform no conception whatever of his nature and the mode of hisexistence.'

  But I should fatigue you, Fausta, were I to give you more of ourconversation. It ran on equally pleasant, I believe, to all of us, to aquite late hour; in which time, almost all that is peculiar to the faithof the Christians came under our review. It was more than midnight whenwe rose from our seats to retire to our chambers. But before we didthat, a common feeling directed our steps to the tomb of Gallus, whichwas but a few paces from where we had been sitting. There thesechildless parents again gave way to their grief and was I stone, that Ishould not weep with them?

  When this act of duty and piety had been performed, we sought ourpillows. As for me, I could not sleep for thinking of my friends andtheir now desolate house. For even to me, who was to that child almost astranger, and had been so little used to his presence, this place is nolonger the same: all its brightness, life, and spirit of gladness, aregone. Everything seems changed. From every place and scene somethingseems to have been subtracted to which they were indebted for whateverit was that made them attractive. If this is so to me, what must it beto Marcus and Lucilia? It is not difficult to see that a sorrow hassettled upon their hearts, which no length of time can heal. I supposeif all their estates had been swept away from them in a night, and alltheir friends, they would not have been so overwhelmed as by thiscalamity--in such a wonderful manner were they each woven into thechild, and all into each other, as one being. They seem no longer to melike the same persons. Not that they are not often calm, and in a mannerpossessed of themselves; but that even th
en, when they are mostthemselves, there has a dulness, a dreamy absence of mind, a fixedsadness, come over them that wholly changes them. Though they sit andconverse with you, their true thoughts seem far away. They are kind andcourteous as ever, to the common eye, but I can see that all the relishof life and of intercourse is now to them gone. All is flat and insipid.The friend is coldly saluted; the meal left untasted, or partaken insilence and soon abandoned; the affairs of the household left to others,to any who will take charge of them. They tell me that this will alwaysbe so; that however they may seem to others, they must ever experience asense of loss; not any less than they would if a limb had been shornaway. A part of themselves, and of the life of every day and hour, istaken from them.

  How strange is all this, even in the light of Christian faith! Howinexplicable, we are ready to say, by any reason of ours, the providenceof God in taking away the human being in the first blossoming; beforethe fruit has even shown itself, much less ripened! Yet is notimmortality, the hope, the assurance of immortality, a sufficientsolution? To me it is. This will not indeed cure our sorrows--theyspring from somewhat wholly independent of futurity, of either the hope,or despair of it,--but it vindicates the ways of the Omnipotent, andjustifies them to our reason and our affections. Will Marcus and Luciliaever rejoice in the consolations which flow from this hope? Alas! I fearnot. They seem in a manner to be incapable of belief.

  In the morning I shall start for Rome. As soon as there, you shall hearfrom me again. Farewell.

  * * * * *

  While Piso was absent from Rome on this visit to his friend, it was myfortune to be several times in the city upon necessary affairs of theillustrious Queen, when I was both at the palace of Aurelian and that ofPiso. It was at one of these later visits, that it became apparent tome, that the Emperor seriously meditated the imposing of restrictions ofsome kind upon the Christians; yet no such purpose was generallyapprehended by that sect itself, nor by the people at large. The darkand disastrous occurrences on the day of the dedication, were variouslyinterpreted by the people; some believing them to point at theChristians, some at the meditated expedition of the Emperor, some atAurelian himself. The popular mind was, however, greatly inflamedagainst the Christians, and every art was resorted to by the priests ofthe temples, and those who were as bigoted and savage as themselvesamong the people, to fan to a devouring flame the little fire thatbegan to be kindled. The voice from the temple, however some might withFronto himself doubt whether it were not from Heaven, was for the mostpart ascribed to the Christians, although they could give no explanationof the manner in which it had been produced. But, as in the case ofAurelian himself, this was forgotten in the horror occasioned by themore dreadful language of the omens, which, in such black andthreatening array, no one remembered ever to have been witnessed before.None thought or talked of anything else. It was the universal theme.

  This may be seen in a conversation which I had with a rustic, whom Iovertook as I rode toward Rome, seated on his mule, burdened on eitherside and behind with the multifarious produce of his farm. The fellow,as I drew near to him, seeming of a less churlish disposition than mostof those whom one meets upon the road, who will scarcely return afriendly salute, I feared not to accost him. After giving him thecustomary good wishes, I remarked upon the excellence of the vegetableswhich he had in his panniers.

  'Yes,' he said, 'these lettuces are good, but not what they would havebeen but for the winds we have had from the mountains. It has sadlynipped them. I hear the Queen pines away just as my plants do. I live atNorentum. I know you, sir, though you cannot know me. You pass by mydoor on your way to the city. My children often call me from my work tolook up, for there goes the secretary of the good Queen on his greathorse. There's no such horse as that on the road. Ha, ha, my basketsreach but to your knee! Well, there are differences in animals and inmen too. So the gods will it. One rides upon a horse with golden bits,another upon a mule with none at all. Still I say, let the gods bepraised.'

  'The gods themselves could hardly help such differences,' I said, 'ifthey made one man of more natural strength, or more naturalunderstanding than another. In that case one would get more thananother. And surely you would not have men all run in one mould--allfive feet high, all weighing so much, all with one face, and one form,one heart, and one head! The world were then dull enough.'

  'You say true,' he replied; 'that is very good. If we were all alike,there would be no such thing as being rich or poor--no such thing asgetting or losing. I fear it would be dull enough, as you say. But I didnot mean to complain, sir. I believe I am contented with my lot. So longas I can have my little farm, with my garden and barns, my cattle and mypoultry, a kind neighbor or so, and my priest and temple, I care fornothing more.'

  'You have a temple then at Norentum?'

  'Yes, to Jupiter Pluvius. And a better priest has not Rome itself. It ishis brother, some officer of the Emperor's, I take these vegetables to.I hope to hear more this morning of what I heard something when I waslast at market. And I think I shall, for, as I learn, the city is a gooddeal stirred since the dedication the other day.' 'I believe it is,' Ianswered. 'But of what do you look to hear, if I may ask? Is there newsfrom the East?'

  'O no, I think not of the East or the South. It was of something to bedone about these Christians. Our temple, you must know, is half forsakenand more, of late. I believe that half the people of Norentum, if thetruth were known, have turned Christians or Jews. Unless we wake up alittle, our worship cannot be supported, and our religion will be gone.And glad am I to hear, through our priest, that even the Emperor isalarmed, and believes something must be done. You know, than he, thereis not a more devout man in Rome. So it is said. And one thing thatmakes me think so, is this. The brother of our priest, where I am goingwith these vegetables--here is poultry too, look! you never saw fatter,I warrant you--told him that he knew it for certain, that the Emperormeant to make short work with even his own niece--you know who Imean--Aurelia, who has long been suspected to be a Christian. And that'sright. If he punishes any, he ought not to spare his own.'

  'That I suppose would be right. But why should he punish any? You neednot be alarmed or offended; I am no Christian.'

  'The gods be praised therefor! I do not pretend to know the whole reasonwhy. But that seems to be the only way of saving the old religion; and Idon't know what way you can possibly have of showing that a religion ofyesterday is true, if a religion of a thousand years old is to be madeout false. If religion is good for anything--and I for one think itis--I think men ought to be compelled to have it and support it, just asthey should be to eat wholesome food, rather than poisonous or hurtful.The laws won't permit us to carry certain things to market, nor othersin a certain state. If we do, we are fined or imprisoned. Treat aChristian in the same way, say I. Let them just go thoroughly to work,and our temples will soon be filled again.'

  'But these Christians,' I observed, 'seem to be a harmless people.'

  'But they have no religion, that anybody can call such. They have nogods, nor altars, nor sacrifices; such can never be harmless. To besure, as to sacrifices, I think there is such a thing as doing too much.I am not for human sacrifices. Nor do I see the need of burning up adozen fat oxen or heifers, as was done the other day at the Temple ofthe Sun. We in Norentum burn nothing but the hoofs and some of theentrails, and the rest goes to the priest for his support. As I take it,a sacrifice is just a sign of readiness to do everything and loseeverything for the gods. We are not expected to throw either ourselves,or our whole substance upon the altar; making the sign is sufficient.But, as I said, these Christians have no altar and no sacrifice, norimage of god or goddess. They have, at Norentum, an old ruinousbuilding--once a market--where they meet for worship; but those who havebeen present say, that nothing is to be seen; and nothing heard butprayers--to what god no one knows--and exhortations of the priests. Somesay, that elsewhere they have what they call an altar, and adorn theirwalls with pictures and
statues. However all this may be, there seems tobe some charm about them, or their worship, for all the world is runningafter them. I long for the news I shall get from Varenus Hirtius. Ifthese omens have not set the Emperor at work for us, nothing will. Herewe are at the gates, and I turn toward the Claudian market. May the daygo happily with you.'

  So we parted; and I bent my way toward the gardens of Sallust.

  As I moved slowly along through the streets, my heart was filled withpity for this people, the Christians; threatened, as it seemed to me,with a renewal of the calamities that had so many times swept over thembefore. They had ever impressed me as a simple-minded, virtuouscommunity, of notions too subtle for the world ever to receive, butwhich, upon themselves, appeared to exert a power altogether beneficial.Many of this faith I had known well, and they were persons to excite myhighest admiration for the characters which they bore. Need I name morethan the princess Julia, and her husband, the excellent Piso? Otherslike them, what wonder if inferior! had also, both in Palmyra, and atTibur and Rome--for they were to be found everywhere--drawn largely bothon my respect and my affections. I beheld with sorrow the signs whichnow seemed to portend suffering and disaster. And my sympathies were themore moved seeing that never before had there been upon the throne a manwho, if he were once entered into a war of opposition against them, hadpower to do them greater harm, or could have proved a more stern andcruel enemy. Not even Nero or Domitian were in their time to be so muchdreaded. For if Aurelian should once league him with the state againstthem, it would not with him be matter of mere cruel sport, but ofconscience. It would be for the honor of the gods, the protection ofreligion, the greatness and glory of the empire, that he would assailand punish them; and the same fierce and bloody spirit that made him ofall modern conquerors the bloodiest and fiercest, it was plain wouldrule him in any encounter with this humble and defenceless tribe. Icould only hope that I was deceived, as well as others, in myapprehensions, or, if that were not so, pray that the gods would bepleased to take their great subject to themselves.

  Full of such reflections and emotions I arrived at the palace, and wasushered into the presence of Livia. There was with her the melancholyAurelia--for such she always seems--who appeared to have been engaged inearnest talk with the Empress, if one might judge by tears fast fallingfrom her eyes. The only words which I caught as I entered were thesefrom Aurelia, 'but, dear lady, if Mucapor require it not, why shouldothers think of it so much? Were he fixed, then should I indeed have toask strength of God for the trial--' then, seeing me, and only receivingmy salutations, she withdrew.

  Livia, after first inquiring concerning Zenobia and Faustula, returningto what had just engaged her, said,

  'I wish, good Nicomachus, that I had your powers of speech, of which, asyou can remember, I have been witness in former days--those happy daysin Syria--when you used, so successfully, to withstand and subdue mygiddy or headstrong mind. Here have I been for weary hours--not wearyneither, for their aim has, I am sure, been a worthy one--but, here haveI been persuading, with all the reason and eloquence I could bring tobear, this self-willed girl to renounce these fantastic notions she hasimbibed from the Christians, and their books, were it only for the sakeof domestic peace. Aurelian is growing daily more and more exasperatedagainst this obscure tribe, and drops, oftener than I love to hear them,dark hints of what awaits them, not excepting, he says, any of whateverrank or name. Not that I suppose that either he, or the senate, wouldproceed further than imprisonments, banishment, suppression of freespeech, the destruction of books and churches; so much indeed Iunderstand from him. But even thus far, and we might lose Aurelia--athing not to be thought of for a moment. He has talked with her himself,reasoned with her, threatened her; but in vain. Now he has imposed thesame task upon me--it is equally in vain. I know not what to do.'

  'Because,' I replied, 'nothing can be done. Where it is possible to see,you have eyes within you that can penetrate the thickest darkness aswell as any. But here you fail; but only where none could succeed. Asincere honest mind, princess, is not to be changed either by persuasionor force. Its belief is not subject to the will. Aurelia, if I haveheard aright, is a Christian from conviction. Evidence made her aChristian--stronger evidence on the side of her former faith can aloneunmake her.'

  'I cannot reason with her to that extent, Nicomachus,' replied theEmpress. 'I know not the grounds of the common faith, any more thanthose of Christianity. I only know that I wish Aurelia was not aChristian. Will you, Nicomachus, reason with her? I remember your logicof old.'

  'Alas, princess, I can engage in no such task! Where I have no faithmyself, I should in vain attempt to plant it in others. How, either, canI desire that any mind should remain an hour longer oppressed by thechildish and abominable superstitions which prevail in Rome? I cannotbut congratulate the excellent Aurelia, so far as the question of truthis concerned, that in the place of the infinite stupidities of thecommon religion, she has received the, at least, pure and reasonabledoctrines of the Christians. You cannot surely, princess, desire herre-conversion?'

  'Only for her own sake, for the sake of her safety, comfort, happiness.'

  'But in her judgment these are best and only secured where she now is.How thinks Mucapor?'

  'As I believe,' answered Livia, 'he cares not in the matter, save forher happiness. He will not wish that she should have any faith exceptsuch as she herself wishes. I have urged him to use his power toconstrain her, but he loves liberty himself too dearly, he says, to putforce upon another.'

  'That is right and noble,' I said; 'it is what I should have looked forfrom Mucapor.'

  'In good sooth, Nicomachus, I believe you still take me but for what Iwas in Palmyra. Who am I?'

  'From a princess you have become an Empress, Empress of Rome, that Ifully understand, and I trust never to be wanting in the demeanor thatbest becomes a subject; but you are still Livia, the daughter ofZenobia, and to her I feel I can never fear to speak with sincerity.'

  'How omnipotent, Nicomachus, are simplicity and truth! They subdue mewhen I most would not. They have conquered me in Aurelia and now in you.Well, well, Aurelia then must take the full weight of her uncle's wrath,which is not light.'

  At this moment Aurelian himself entered, accompanied by Fronto. Livia,at the same time, arose and withdrew, not caring, I thought, to meet theeyes of that basilisk, who, with the cunning of a priest, she saw to beusurping a power over Aurelian which belonged of right to her. I wasabout also to withdraw, but the Emperor constraining me, as he oftendoes, I remained, although holding the priest in still greaterabhorrence, I believe, than Livia herself.

  'While you have been absent from the city, Fronto,' said Aurelian, 'Ihave revolved the subjects upon which we last conversed, and no longerdoubt where lie, for me, both duty, and the truest glory. The judgmentof the colleges, lately rendered, agrees both with yours and mine. Sothat the very finger of the god we worship points the way.'

  'I am glad,' replied Fronto, 'for myself, for you, for Rome, and for theworld, that truth possesses and is to sway you. It will be a great dayfor Rome, greater than when your triumphal array swept through thestreets with the world at your chariot-wheels, when the enemy that hadso long waged successful war within the very gates, shall lie dead asthe multitudes of Palmyra.'

  'It will, Fronto. But first I have this to say, and, by the gods, Ibelieve it true, that it is the corruptions of our own religion and itsministers, that is the offence that smells to heaven, quite as much asthe presumptuous novelties of this of Judea. I perceive you neitherassent to this nor like it. But it is true, I am persuaded, as the godsthemselves. I have long thought so; and, while with one hand, I aim atthe Gallilean atheism, with the other, I shall aim at those whodishonor, by their vices and hypocrisies, the religion they profess toserve.'

  Fronto was evidently disturbed. His face grew pale as the frown gatheredand darkened on the brow of Aurelian. He answered not, and Aurelian wenton.

  'Hellenism, Fronto, is disgraced, and i
ts very life threatened by thevices of her chief ministers. The gods forgive me! in that, while I havepurged my legions of drunkards and adulterers, I have left them in thetemples. Truly did you say, I have had but one thought in my mind, Ihave looked but to one quarter of the heavens. My eyes are now unsealed,and I see both ways, and every way. How can we look for the favor of thegods, while their houses of worship, I speak it, Fronto, with sorrow andindignation, but with the knowledge too of the truth of what I say, arehouses of appointment while the very inner sanctuaries, and the altarsthemselves, are little better than the common stews, while the priestsare the great fathers of iniquity, corrupters of innocence, the seducersof youth, examples themselves, beyond the fear of rivalry, of all thevice they teach! At their tables, too, who so swollen with meats anddrink as the priests? Who, but they, are a by-word, throughout the city,for all that is vilest? What word but priest, stands, with all, as anabbreviation and epitome, of whatever pollutes, and defiles the name ofman? Porphyrius says 'that since Jesus has been worshipped in Rome noone has found by experience the public assistance of the gods.' Ibelieve it; and Rome will never again experience it till this blackatheism is rooted out. But it is as true, I doubt not, that since theirministers have become ministers of demons, and, from teachers of morals,have turned instructers in vice--for this reason too, as well as for theother, the justly offended deities of Rome have hid themselves fromtheir impious worshippers. Here then, Fronto, is a double labor to beundergone, a double duty to be done, not less than some or all of thelabors of Hercules. We are set for this work, and, not till I have begunit--if not finished--will I so much as dream of Persia. What say you?'

  Fronto looked like one who had kindled a larger flame than he intended,or knew well how to manage.

  'The faults of which you speak, great Emperor, it can be denied by none,are found in Rome, and can never be other than displeasing to the gods.But then, I would ask, when was it ever otherwise? In the earlier agesof the republic, I grant, there was a virtue in the people which we seenot now. But that grew not out of the purer administration of religion,but was the product of the times in part--times, in comparison withthese, of a primeval simplicity. To live well, was easier then. Where notemptation is, virtue is easy, is necessary. But then it ceases to bevirtue. It is a quality, not an acquisition--a gift of the gods, anaccident, rather than man's meritorious work.'

  'That is very true--well.'

  'There may be as much real virtue now, as then. May it not be so?'

  'Perhaps--it may. What then?'

  'Our complaints of the present, should be softened. But, what chiefly Iwould urge is this, that since those ages of early virtue--after all,perhaps, like all else at the same period, partly fabulous--Rome hasbeen but what it is, adorned by virtues that have claimed the admirationof the world, and polluted by vices that have drawn upon her thereprobation of the good, yet, which are but such as the world shows itssurface over, from the farthest India, to the bleak wastes of Britain.It is, Aurelian, a thing neither strange nor new that vices thrive inRome. And, long since, have there been those, like Nerva and the goodSeverus, and the late censor Valerian, who have aimed at theircorrection. These, and others who, before and since, have wrought in thesame work, have done well for the empire. Their aim has been a high one,and the favor of the gods has been theirs. Aurelian may do more andbetter in the same work, seeing his power is greater and his piety morezealous.'

  'These are admitted truths, Fronto, save the last; but whither do theytend?'

  'To this. Because, Aurelian, vice has been in Rome; because even thepriesthood has been corrupt, and the temples themselves the sties yousay they now are--for this, have the gods ever withdrawn theirprotection? Has Rome ever been the less prosperous? What is more, can weconceive that they who made us of their own fiery mould, so prone toviolate the bounds of moderation, would, for yielding to such instincts,interpose in wrath, as if that had happened which was not foreseen, andagainst which, they had made sure provision? Are the heavens to blazewith the fires of the last day, thunders to roll as if earth were shakento her centre, the entrails of dumb beasts to utter forth terrificprophecy of great and impending wo, because, forsooth, the people ofRome are by no means patterns of purity--because, perchance, within thetemples themselves, an immorality may have been purposed, orperpetrated--because, even the priests themselves have not been, or arenot, white and spotless as their robes?'

  'There seems some reason in what you say.'

  'But, great Emperor, take me not as if I would make myself the shield ofvice, to hide it from the blow that would extirpate or cure it. I see,and bewail, the corruptions of the age; but, as they seem not foulerthan those of ages which are past, especially than those of Nero and ofCommodus, I cannot think that it is against these the gods have armedthemselves, but, Aurelian, against an evil which has been long growing,and often assailed and checked, but which has now got to such giant sizeand strength, that except it be absolutely hewn down, and the leastroots torn up and burned, both the altars of our gods, and theircapital, called Eternal, and the empire itself, now holding the world inits wide-spread, peace-giving arms, are vanished, and anarchy, impiety,atheism, and the rank vices, which in such times would be engendered,will then reign omnipotent, and fill the very compass of the earth,Christ being the universal king! It is against this the heavens havearrayed their power; and to arouse an ungrateful, thoughtless, impiouspeople, with their sleeping king, that they have spoken in thunder.'

  'Fronto, I almost believe you right.'

  'Had we, Aurelian, but the eyes of moles, when the purposes of the godsare to be deciphered in the character of events, we should long sincehave seen that the series of disasters which have befallen the empiresince the Gallilean atheism has taken root here, have pointed but tothat--that they have been a chastisement of our supineness and sloth.When did Rome, almighty Rome, ever before tremble at the name ofbarbarian, or fly before their arms? While now, is it not much that weare able to keep them from the very walls of the Capital? They now swarmthe German forests in multitudes, which no man can count; their hoarsemurmurs can be heard even here, ready, soon as the reins of empire shallfall into the hands of another Gallienus, to pour themselves upon theplains of Italy, changing our fertile lands and gorgeous cities intoanother Dacia. These things were not so once; and what cause there is inRome, so deep, and high, and broad, to resolve for us the reason of thisaverted face of heaven, save that of which I speak, I cannot guess.'

  'Nor I,' said Aurelian; 'I confess it. It must be so My work is notthree, nor two; but one. I have brought peace to the empire in all itsborders. My legions all rest upon their arms. Not a sword, but is in itssheath--there, for the present, let it be glued fast. The season, sopropitious for the great work of bringing again the empire into peaceand harmony with the angry gods, seems to have been provided bythemselves. How think you, Nicomachus?'--turning suddenly to me, as ifnow, for the first time, aware that I was standing at his side.

  I answered, 'that I was slow to receive the judgment of Fronto or ofhimself in that matter. That I could not believe that the gods, whoshould be examples of the virtues to mankind, would ever ordain suchsufferings for their creatures as must ensue, were the former violencesto be renewed against the Christians. So far from thinking them anuisance in the state, I considered them a benefit.'

  'The Greek too,' said Fronto, breaking in, 'is then a Christian.'

  'I am not a Christian, priest, nor, as I think, shall ever be one; but,far sooner would I be one, than take my faith from thee, which, howeverit might guide me well through the wine vaults of the temple, or to thebest stalls of the market, or to the selectest retreats of the suburra,would scarce show the way to heaven. I affront but the corruptions ofreligion, Aurelian. Sincerity I honor everywhere. Hypocrisy nowhere.' Ithought Fronto would have torn me with his teeth and nails. His whiteface grew whiter, but he stood still.

  'Say on,' said the Emperor, 'though your bluntness be more even thanRoman.'

  'I think,
' I continued, 'the Christians a benefit to the state, for thisreason; not that their religion is what they pretend, a heaven-descendedone, but that, by its greater strictness, it serves to rebuke the commonfaith and those who hold it, and infuse into it something of its ownspirit. All new systems, as I take it, in their first beginning arestrict and severe. It is thus by this quality they supersede older anddegenerate ones; not because they are truer, but because they are purer.There is a prejudice among men, that the gods, whoever they may be, andwhatever they may be, love virtue in men, and for that accept them.When, therefore, a religion fails to recommend and enforce virtue, itfails to meet the judgment of men concerning the true character andoffice of a religion, and so with the exception of such beasts, and suchthere always are, who esteem a faith in proportion to its corruptions,they look with favor upon any new one which promises to be what theywant. It is for this reason that this religion from Judea has made itsway so far and so soon. But, it will, by and by, degenerate from itshigh estate, just as others have done, and be succeeded by another thatshall raise still higher expectations. In the meantime, it serves thestate well, both by the virtue which it enjoins upon its own subjects,and the influence it exerts, by indirection, upon those of the prevalentfaiths, and upon the general manners and morals.'

  'What you say,' observed Aurelian musingly, 'has some show of sense. Somuch, at least, may be said for this religion.'

  'Yet a lie,' said Fronto, 'can be none the less hateful to the gods,because it sometime plays the part of truth. It is a lie still.'

  'Hold,' said Aurelian, 'let us hear the Greek. What else?'

  'I little thought,' I replied, 'as I rode toward the city this morning,that I should at this hour be standing in the presence of the Emperor ofRome, a defender of the Christians. I am in no manner whatever fittedfor the task. My knowledge is nothing; my opinions, therefore, worth butlittle, grounded as they are upon the loose reports which reach my earconcerning the character and doctrines of this sect, or upon what littleobservation I have made upon those whom I have known of thatpersuasion. Still, I honor and esteem them, and such aid as I can bringthem in their straits, shall be very gladly theirs. I will, however, addone thing more to what I have said in answer to Fronto, who representsthe gods as more concerned to destroy the Christians than to reform thecommon religion and the public morals. I cannot think that. Am I tobelieve that the gods, the supreme directors of human affairs, whose aimmust be man's highest well-being, regard with more abhorrence an errorthan a vice?--an error too that acts more beneficently than most truth,and is the very seed of the purest virtues? I can by no means believeit. So that if I were interpreter of the late omens, I should rather seethem pointed at the vices which prevail; at the corruptions of thepublic morals, which are fouler than aught I had so much as dreamed ofbefore I was myself a witness of them, and may well be supposed tostartle the gods from their rest, and draw down their hottestthunderbolts. But I will not say more, when there must be so many ableto do so much better in behalf of what I must still believe to be a goodcause. Let me entreat the Emperor, before he condemns, to hear. Thereare those in Rome, of warm hearts, sound heads, and honest souls, fromwhom, if from any on earth, truth may be heard, and who will set in itsjust light a doctrine too excellent to suffer, as it must, in my hands.'

  'They shall be heard, Nicomachus. Not even a Jew or a Christian shallsuffer without that grace; though I see not how it can avail.'

  'If it should not avail to plant in your mind so good an opinion oftheir way as exists in mine,' I resumed, 'it might yet to soften it, anddispose it to a more lenient conduct; and so many are the miseries oflife in the natural order of events, that the humane heart must desireto diminish, not increase them. Has Aurelian ever heard the name ofProbus the Christian?'

  The Emperor turned toward Fronto with a look of inquiry.

  'Yes,' said the priest, 'you have heard his name. But that of Felix, thebishop of the Christians, as he is called, is more familiar to you.'

  'Felix, Felix, that is the name I have heard most, but Probus too, if Ierr not.'

  'He has been named to you, I am certain,' added Fronto. 'He is the realhead of the Nazarenes,--the bishop, but a painted one.'

  'Probus is he who turned young Piso's head. Is it not so?'

  'The very same; and beside his, the lady Julia's.'

  'No, that was by another, one Paul of Antioch, also a bishop and a fastfriend of the Queen. The Christians themselves have of late set uponhim, as they were so many blood-hounds, being bent upon expelling himfrom Antioch. It is not long since, in accordance with the decree ofsome assembled bishops there, I issued a rescript dislodging him fromhis post, and planting in his place one Domnus. If our purposes prosper,the ejected and dishonored priest may find himself at least safer ifhumbler. Probus,--I shall remember him. The name leads my thoughts toThrace, where our greater Probus waits for me.'

  'From Probus the Christian,' I said, 'you will receive,' whenever youshall admit him to your presence, a true account of the nature of theChristians' faith and of the actual condition of their community--allwhich, can be had only from a member of it.'

  But little more was said, when I departed, and took my way again towardsTibur.

  It seemed to me, from the manner of the Emperor more than from what hesaid, that he was settled and bound up to the bad work of an assaultupon the Christians. To what extent it was in his mind to go, I couldnot judge; for his language was ambiguous, and sometimes contradictory.But that the darkest designs were harbored by him, over which he wasbrooding with a mind naturally superstitious, but now almost in a stateof exasperation, from the late events, was most evident.