LETTER VII.

  FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.

  The body of the Christians, as you may well suppose, Fausta, is in astate of much agitation. Though they cannot discern plainly the form ofthe danger that impends, yet they discern it; and the very obscurity inwhich it is involved adds to their fears. It is several days since Ilast wrote, yet not a word has come from the palace. Aurelian is seen asusual in all public places; at the capitol, taking charge of theerection and completion of various public edifices; or, if at thepalace, he rides as hard as ever, and as much, upon his Hippodrome; or,if at the Pretorian camp, he is exact and severe as ever in maintainingthe discipline of the Legions. He has issued no public order of any kindthat bears upon us. Yet not only the Christians, but the whole city,stand as if in expectation of measures of no little severity, going atleast to the abridgement of many of our liberties, and to thedeprivation of many of our privileges. This is grounded chiefly,doubtless, upon the reported imprisonment of Aurelia; for, though somehave little hesitation in declaring their belief, that she has been madeway with, others believe it not at all; and none can assign a reason forreceiving one story rather than another. How Isaac came to be possessedof his information I do not know, but it bore all the marks of truth. Hewould inform me neither how he came by it, nor would he allow it to becommunicated. But it would never be surprising to discover, that of mymost private affairs he has a better knowledge than myself.

  Do not, from what I have said, conceive of the Christians as giving anysigns of unmanly fear. They perceive that danger threatens, but theychange not their manner of life, not turn from the daily path of theirpursuits. Believing in a providence, they put their trust in it. Theirfaith stands them in stead as a sufficient support and refuge. Theycannot pretend, any more than Isaac, to see through the plans andpurposes of Heaven. They pretend not to know, nor to be able to explainto another, why, if what they receive is the truth, and they are truebelievers in a true religion, they should be exposed to such sufferingsfor its sake; and that which is false, and injurious as false, shouldtriumph. It is enough for them, they say, to be fully persuaded; toknow, and possess, the truth. They can never relinquish it; they willrather die. But, whether Christianity die with them or not, they cannottell--that they leave to God. They do not believe that itwill--prophecy, and the present condition of the world, notwithstandinga present overhanging cloud, give them confidence in the ultimateextension and power of their faith. At any rate it shall receive noinjury at their hands. They have professed it during twenty years ofprosperity, and have boasted of it before the world--they shall professit with the same boldness, and the same grateful attachment, now thatadversity approaches. They are fixed--calm--unmoved. Except for a deepertone of earnestness and feeling when you converse with them, and a castof sadness upon the countenance, you would discern no alteration intheir conduct or manner.

  I might rather say that, in a very large proportion, there areobservable the signs of uncommon and almost unnatural exhilaration. Theyeven greet the coming of trouble as that which shall put their faith tothe test, shall give a new testimony of the readiness of Christians tosuffer, and, like the former persecution, give it a new impulseforwards. They seek occasions of controversy and conversation with thePagans at public places, at their labor, and in the streets. Thepreachers assume a bolder, louder tone, and declaim with ten times morevehemence than ever against the enormities and abominations of thepopular religions. Often at the market-places, and at the corners of thestreets, are those to be seen, not authorized preachers perhaps, butbelievers and overflowing with zeal, who, at the risk of whateverpopular fury and violence, hold forth the truth in Christ, and denouncethe reigning idolatries and superstitions.

  At the head of these is Macer; at their head, both as respects thenatural vigor of his understanding, and the perfect honesty andintegrity of his mind, and his dauntless courage. Every day, and all theday, is he to be found in the streets of Rome, sometimes in one quarter,sometimes in another, gathering an audience of the passengers or idlers,as it may be, and sounding in their ears the truths of the new religion.That he, and others of the same character, deserve in all they do theapprobation of the Christian body, or receive it, is more than can besaid. They are often, by their violences in the midst of theirharangues, by harsh and uncharitable denunciations, by false andexaggerated statements, the causes of tumult and disorder, andcontribute greatly to increase the general exasperation against us. Withthem it seems to be a maxim, that all means are lawful in a good cause.Nay, they seem rather to prefer the ruder and rougher forms of attack.They seem possessed of the idea that the world is to be converted in aday, and that if men will not at once relinquish the prejudices or thefaith of years, they are fit but for cursings and burnings. In settingforth the mildest doctrine the world ever knew, delivered to mankind bythe gentlest, the most patient and compassionate being it ever saw theyassume a manner and use a language so entirely at variance with theirtheme, that it is no wonder if prejudices are strengthened oftener thanthey are set loose, incredulity made more incredulous, and the hardenedyet harder of heart. They who hear notice the discrepancy, and fail notto make the use of it they may. When will men learn that the mind is afortress that can never be taken by storm? You may indeed enter itrudely and by violence, and the signs of submission shall be made: butall the elements of opposition are still there. Reason has not beenconvinced; errors and misconceptions have not been removed, by a wiseand logical and humane dealing, and supplanted by truths well proved,and shown to be truths;--and the victory is one in appearance only. And,what is more, violence, on the part of the reformer and assailant,begets violence on the other side. The whole inward man, with all hisfeelings, prejudices, reason, is instantly put into a posture ofdefence; not only of defence, for that were right, but of angry defence,which is wrong. Passion is up, which might otherwise have slept; and itis passion, never reason, which truth has to fear. The intellect in itspure form, the advocate of truth would always prefer to meet, for he cannever feel sure of a single step made till this has been gained. Butintellect, inflamed by passion, he may well dread, as what there is butsmall hope even of approaching, much less of convincing.

  Often has Probus remonstrated with this order of men, but in vain. Theyheed him not, but in return charge him with coldness and indifference,worldliness, and all other associated faults. Especially has he laboredto preserve Macer from the extremes to which he has run; for he has seenin him an able advocate of Christian truth, could he but be moderatedand restrained. But Macer, though he has conceived the strongestaffection for Probus, will not allow himself in this matter to beinfluenced by him. He holds himself answerable to conscience and Godalone for the course he pursues. As for the consequences that may ensue,either to himself or his family, his mind cannot entertain them. It isfor Christ he lives, and for Christ he is ready to die.

  I had long wished to meet him and witness his manner both of acting andof preaching, and yesterday I was fortunate enough to encounter him. Ishall give you, as exactly as I can, what took place; it will show youbetter than many letters could do what, in one direction, are ourpresent position and prospects.

  I was in the act of crossing the great avenue, which, on the south,leads to the Forum, when I was arrested by a disorderly crowd, such aswe often see gathered suddenly in the street of a city about a thief whohas been caught, or a person who has been trodden down on the pavement.It moved quickly in the direction of the tribunal of Varus, and, whatwas my surprise, to behold Macer, in the midst, with head aloft, andinflamed countenance, holding in his grasp, and dragging onwards, one,who would willingly have escaped. The crowd seemed disposed, as I judgedby the vituperations that were directed against Macer, to interfere, butwere apparently deterred by both the gigantic form of Macer and theirvicinity to the tribunal, whither he was going. Waiting till they wereat some distance in advance of me, I then followed, determined to judgefor myself of this singular man. I was with them in the common hallbefore the prefect had taken his se
at. When seated at his tribunal, heinquired the cause of the tumult, and who it was that wished to appealto him.

  'I am the person,' said Macer; 'and I come to drag to justice thismiscreant--'

  'And who may you be?'

  'I should think Varus might recognize Macer.'

  'It is so long since I met thee last at the Emperor's table, that thyfeatures have escaped me.'

  At which, as was their duty, the attendant rabble laughed.

  'Is there any one present,' continued the prefect, 'who knows this man?'

  'Varus need apply to no other than myself,' said Macer. 'I am Macer, theson of that Macer who was neighbor of the gladiator Pollex,--'

  'Hold, I say,' interrupted the prefect; 'a man witnesses not here ofhimself. Can any one here say that this man is not crazy or drunk?'

  'Varus! prefect Varus--' cried Macer, his eyes flashing lightning, andhis voice not less than thunder; but he was again interrupted.

  'Peace, slave! or rods shall teach thee where thou art.' And at the samemoment, at a sign from Varus, he was laid hold of with violence byofficials of the place armed with spears and rods, and held.

  'What I wish to know then,' said Varus, turning to the crowd, 'is,whether this is not the street brawler, one of the impious Gallileans, aman who should long ago have been set in the stocks to find leisure forbetter thoughts?'

  Several testified, as was desired, that this was he.

  'This is all I wish to know,' said the prefect. 'The man is eitherwithout wits, or they are disordered, or else the pestilent faith heteaches has made the nuisance of him he is, as it does of all who meddlewith it. It is scarcely right that he should be abroad. Yet has hecommitted no offence that condemns him either to scourging or theprison. Hearken therefore, fellow! I now dismiss thee without thescourging thou well deservest; but, if thou keep on thy wild and lawlessway, racks and dungeons shall teach thee what there is in Roman justice.Away with him!'

  'Romans! Roman citizens!' cried Macer; 'are these your laws and thisyour judge?--'

  'Away with him, I say!' cried the prefect; and the officers of thepalace hurried him out of the hall.

  As he went, a voice from the crowd shouted,

  'Roman citizens, Macer, are long since dead. 'Tis a vain appeal.'

  'I believe you,' replied Macer; 'tyrant and slave stand now for all whoonce bore the proud name of Roman.'

  This violence and injustice on the part of Varus must be traced--forthough capricious, and imperious, this is not his character--to thelanguage of Macer in the shop of Publius, and to his apprehension lestthe same references to his origin, which he would willingly haveforgotten, should be made, and perhaps more offensively still, in thepresence of the people. Probus, on the former occasion, lamented deeplythat Macer should have been tempted to rehearse in the way he did someof the circumstances of the prefect's history, as its only end could beto needlessly irritate the man of power, and raise up a bitterer enemythan we might otherwise have found in him.

  Upon leaving the tribunal, I was curious to watch still further themovements of the Christian. The crowd about him increased rather thandiminished, as he left the building and passed into the street. At but alittle distance from the hall of the prefect, stands the Temple ofPeace, with its broad and lofty flights of steps. When Macer had reachedit he paused, and looked round upon the motley crowd that had gatheredabout him.

  'Go up! go up!' cried several voices. 'We will hear thee.'

  'There is no prefect here,' cried another.

  Macer needed no urging, but quickly strode up the steps, till he stoodbetween the central columns of the temple and his audience had disposedthemselves below him in every direction, when he turned and gazed uponthe assembled people, who had now--by the addition of such as passedalong, and who had no more urgent business than to attend to that of anyothers whom they might chance to meet,--grown to a multitude. Afterlooking upon them for a space, as if studying their characters, and howhe could best adapt his discourse to their occasions, he suddenly andabruptly broke out--

  'You have asked me to come up here; and I am here; glad for once to bein such a place by invitation. And now I am here, and am about to speak,you will expect me to say something of the Christians.'

  'Yes yes.'

  'But I shall not--not yet. Perhaps by and by. In the meantime my themeshall be the prefect! the prefect Varus!'

  'A subject full of matter,' cried one near Macer.

  'Better send for him,' said another. 'Twere a pity he lost it.'

  'Yes,' continued Macer, 'it is a subject full of matter, and I wishmyself he were here to see himself in the mirror I would hold beforehim; he could not but grow pale with affright. You have just had asample of Roman justice! How do you like it, Romans? I had gone there toseek justice; not for a Christian, but against a Christian. A Christianmaster had abused his slave with cruelty, I standing by; and when to myremonstrance--myself feeling the bitter stripes he laid on--he did butply his thongs the more, I seized the hardened monster by the neck, andwrenching from his grasp the lash, I first plied it upon his own back,and then dragged him to the judgment-seat of Varus,--'

  'O fool!'

  'You say well--fool that I was, crying for justice! How I was dealtwith, some of you have seen. There, I say, was a sample of Roman justicefor you! So in these times does power sport itself with poverty. It wasnot so once in Rome. Were Cincinnatus or Regulus at the tribunal ofVarus, they would fare like the soldier Macer. And who, Romans, is thisVarus? and why is he here in the seat of authority? At the tribunal,Varus did not know me. But what if I were to tell you there was but athin wall between the rooms where we were born, and that when we wereboys we were ever at the same school!--not such schools as you arethinking of, where the young go for letters and for Greek, but theschool where many of you have been and are now at, I dare say, theschool of Roman vice, which you may find always open all along thestreets, but especially where I and Varus were, in one of the sinks nearthe Flavian. Pollex, the gladiator, was father of Varus!--not worse, butjust as bad, as savage, as beastly in his vices, as are all of thatbutcher tribe. My father--Macer too--I will not say more of him thanthat he was keeper of the Vivaria of the amphitheatre, and passed hisdays in caging and uncaging the wild beasts of Asia and Africa; infeeding them when there were no games on foot, and starving them whenthere were. Varus, the prefect, Romans, and I, were at this school tillI joined the legions under Valerian, and he, by a luckier fortune, as itwould be deemed, found favor in the eyes of Gallienus, to whom, with hisfair sister Fannia, he was sold by those demons Pollex and Caeicina. Isay nothing of how it fared with him in that keeping. Fannia has longsince found the grave. Is Varus one who should sit at the head of Rome?He is a man of blood, of crime, of vice, such as you would not bear tobe told of! I say not this as if he were answerable for his birth andearly vice, but that, being such, this is not his place. He could nothelp it, nor I, that we were born and nurtured where we were; that thesight of blood and the smell of it, either of men or beasts, was neverout of our eyes and nostrils, during all our boyhood and youth; that tohim, and me, the sweetest pleasure of our young life was, when the gamescame on, and the beasts were let loose upon one another, and,--O thehardening of that life!--when, specially, there were prisoners orcaptives, on which to glut their raging hunger! Those were the days andhours marked whitest in our calendar. And, whitest of all, were the daysof the Decian persecution, when the blood of thrice cursed Christians,as I was taught to name them, flowed like water. Every day then Varusand I had our sport; working up the beasts, by our torments, to anunnatural height of madness ere they were let loose, and then rushing tothe gratings, as the doors were thrown open, to see the fury with whichthey would spring upon their defenceless victims too, and tear thempiecemeal. The Romans required such servants--and we were they. Theyrequire them now, and you may find any number of such about thetheatres. But if there must be such there, why should they be takenthence and put upon the judgment-seat? save, for the reason, that theymay
have been thoroughly purged, as it were, by fire--which Varus hasnot been. What with him was necessary and forced when young, is nowchosen and voluntary. Vice is now his by election. Now, I ask, why hasthe life of Varus been such? and why, being such, is he here? Becauseyou are so! Yes, because you are all like him! It is you, Romancitizens, who rear the theatres, the circuses, and the thousand templesof vice, which crowd the streets of Rome,--'

  'No, no! it is the emperors.'

  'But who make the emperors? You Romans of these times, are a race ofcowards and slaves, and it is therefore that tyrants rule over you. Wereyou freemen, with the souls of freemen in you, do you think you wouldbear as you do--and love and glory in the yoke--this rule of suchcreatures as Varus, and others whom it were not hard to name? I knowwhat you are--for I have been one of you. I have not been, nor am I now,hermit, as you may think, being a Christian. A Christian is a man of theworld--a man of action and of suffering--not of rest and sleep. I haveever been abroad among men, both before I was a Christian and since; andI know what you are. You are of the same stamp as Varus! nay, start not,nor threaten with your eyes,--I fear you not. If you are not so, why, Isay, is Varus there? You know that I speak the truth. The people of Romeare corrupt as their rulers! How should it be much otherwise? You arefed by the largesses of the Emperor, you have your two loaves a day andyour pork, and you need not and so do not work. You have no employmentbut idleness, and idleness is not so much a vice itself as the prolificmother of all vices. When I was one of you, it was so; and so it is now.My father's labor was nothing; he was kept by the state. The Emperor wasnot more a man of pleasure than he, nor the princes, than I and Varus.Was that a school of virtue? When I left the service of the amphitheatreI joined the Legions. In the army I had work, and I had fighting, but mypassions, in the early days of that service, raged like the sea; andduring all the reign of Valerian's son there was no bridle uponthem;--for I served under the general Carinus, and what Carinus was andis, most of you know. O the double horrors of those years! I was older,and yet worse and worse. God! I marvel that thou didst not interpose andstrike me dead! But thy mercy spared me, and now the lowest, lowest hellshall not be mine.' Tears, forced by these recollections, flowed downhis cheeks, and for a time he was speechless.

  'Such, Romans, was I once. What am I now? I am a changed man--throughand through. There is not a thought of my mind, nor a fibre of my body,what they were once. You may possibly think the change has been for theworse, seeing me thus thrust forth from the tribunal of the prefect withdishonor, when I was once a soldier and an officer under Aurelian. Iwould rather a thousand times be what I am, a soldier of Jesus Christ.And I would that, by anything I could do, you, any one of you, might bemade to think so too; I would that Varus might, for I bear him no illwill.

  'But what am I now? I am so different a man from what I once was, that Ican hardly believe myself to be the same. The life which I once led, Iwould not lead again--no--not one day nor hour of it, though you woulddepose Aurelian to day and crown me Caesar to-morrow. I would no morereturn to that life, than I would consent to lose my nature and take aswine's, and find elysium where as a man I once did, in sinks and sties.I would not renounce for the wealth of all the world, and its empiretoo, that belief in the faith of Christ, the head of the Christians,which has wrought so within me.

  'And what has made me so--would make you so--if you would but hearken toit. And would it not be a good thing if the flood of vice, which poursall through the streets of Rome, were stayed? Would it not be a happything, if the misery which dwells beneath these vaulted roofs and thesehumbler ones equally, the misery which drunkenness and lust, the lust ofmoney, and the love of place, and every evil passion generates, were allwiped away, and we all lived together observant of the rights of oneanother, helping one another; not oppressing; loving, not hating;showing in our conduct as men, the virtues of little children? Would itnot be happier if all this vast population were bound together by somecommon ties of kindred; if all held all as brethren; if the poor manfelt himself to be the same as Aurelian himself, because he is a manlike him and weighs just as much as he in the scales of God, and that itis the vice in the one or the other, and that only that sinks him lower?Would it not be better, if you all could see in the presiding power ofthe universe, one great and good Being, who needs not to be propitiatedby costly sacrifices of oxen or bulls, nor by cruel ones of men,--but isalways kindly disposed towards you, and desires nothing so much as tosee you living virtuously, and is never grieved as he is to see youruining your own peace,--not harming him--by your vices? for you willbear witness with me that your vices are never a cause of happiness.Would it not be better if you could behold such a God over you, in theplace of those who are called gods, and whom you worship, as I didonce, because I feared to do otherwise, and yet sin on never the less:who are your patterns not so much in virtue as in all imaginable vice?'

  'Away with the wicked!'--'Away with the fellow!' cried several voices;but others predominated, saying, 'Let him alone!'--'He speaks well! Wewill hear him!'--'We will defend him! go on, go on!'

  'I have little or nothing more to say,' continued Macer. 'I will onlyask you whether you must not judge that to be a very powerful principleof some kind that drew me up out of that foul pit into which I wasfallen, and made me what I am now? Which of you now feels that he hasmotive strong enough to work out such a deliverance for him? What helpin this way do you receive from your priests, if perchance you everapply to them? What book of instructions concerning the will of the godshave you, to which you can go at any time and all times? Only believe asI do, Romans, and you will hate sin as I do. You cannot help it. Believein the God that I do, and in the revealer of his will, the teacher whomhe sent into the world to save us from our heathen errors and vices, andyou will then be more than the Romans you once were. You are now, andyou know it, infinitely less. Then you will be what the old Romans wereand more. You will be as brave as they, and more just. You will be asgenerous and more gentle. You will love your own country as well, butyou will love others too. You will be more ready to offer up your livesfor your country, for it will be better worth dying for; every citizenwill be a brother; every ruler a brother; it will be like dying foryour own little household. If you would see Rome flourish, she mustbecome more pure. She can stagger along not much longer under thismountain weight of iniquity that presses her into the dust. She needs anew Hercules to cleanse her foul chambers. Christ is he; and if you willinvite him, he will come and sweep away these abominations, so thatimperial Rome shall smell fragrantly as a garden of spices.'

  Loud exclamations of approval here interrupted Macer. The greatproportion of those who were present were now evidently with him, andinterested in his communications.

  'Tell us,' cried one, as soon as the noise subsided, 'how you becamewhat you are? What is to be done?'

  'Yes,' cried many voices, 'tell us.'

  'I will tell you gladly,' answered Macer. 'I first heard the word oftruth from the lips of Probus, a preacher of the Christians, whom youtoo may hear whenever you will, by seeking him out on the days when theChristians worship. Probus was in early life a priest of the temple ofJupiter, and if any man in Rome can place the two religions side byside, and make the differences plain, it is he. Go to him such of you ascan, and you will never repent it. But if you would all learn the firststep toward Christian truth, and all truth, it is this; lay aside yourprejudices, be willing to see, hear, and judge for yourselves. Take notrumor for truth. Do not believe without evidence both for and against.You would not, without evidence and reason, charge Aurelian with thedeath of Aurelia, though ten thousand tongues report it. Charge not theChristians with worse things then, merely because the wicked andill-disposed maliciously invent them and spread them. If you would knowthe whole truth and doctrine of Christians; if you would ascend to thefountain-head of all Christian wisdom, take to your homes our sacredbooks and read them. Some of you at least can obtain them. Let onepurchase, and then twenty or fifty read. One thing before
I cease.Believe not the wicked aspersions of the prefect. He charges me as abrawler, a disturber of the peace and order of the city. Romans, believeme, I am a lover of peace, but I am a lover of freedom too. Because I ama lover of peace, and would promote it, do I labor to teach thedoctrines of Christ, which are doctrines of peace and love, both at homeand abroad, in the city and throughout the world; and because I am thefriend of freedom, do I open my mouth at all times and in every place,wherever I can find those who, like you, are ready to hear the words ofsalvation. When in Rome I can no longer speak--no longer speak for thecause of what I deem truth, then will I no longer be a Roman. Then willI that day renounce my name and my country. Thanks to Aurelian, he hasnever chained up the tongue. I have fought and bled under him, and neverwas there a braver man, or who honored courage more in others. I do notbelieve he will ever do so cowardly a thing as to restrain the freedomof men's speech. Aurelian is some things, but he is not others. He issevere and cruel, but not mean. Cut Aurelian in two, and throw theworser half away, and t'other is as royal a man as ever the world saw.

  'One thing more, good friends and citizens: If I am sometimes carriedaway by my passions to do that which seems a disturbance of the commonorder, say that it is the soldier Macer that does it, not his Christianzeal--his human passions, not his new-adopted faith. It is not at onceand perfectly that a man passes from one life to another; puts off onenature and takes another. Much that belonged to Macer of theamphitheatre, and Macer the soldier, cleaves to him now. But make nothis religion amenable for that. You who would see the law of Christwritten, not only on a book but in the character and life of a livingman, go read the Christian Probus.'

  As he said these words he began to descend the steps of the temple; butmany crowded round him, assailing him, some with reproaches, and otherswith inquiries put by those who seemed anxious to know the truth. Thevoices of his opponents were the most violent and prevailed, and made meapprehensive that they would proceed to greater length than speech. ButMacer stood firm, nothing daunted by the uproar. One, who signalizedhimself by the loudness and fierceness of his cries, exclaimed, 'that hewas nothing else than an atheist like all the rest of the Christians;they have no gods; they deny the gods of Rome, and they give us nothingin their stead.'

  'We deny the gods of Rome, I know,' replied Macer, 'and who would not,who had come to years of discretion? who had so much as left his nurse'slap? A fouler brotherhood than they the lords of Heaven, Rome does notcontain. Am I to be called upon to worship a set of wretches chargeablewith all the crimes and vices to be found on earth? It is this accursedidolatry, O Romans, that has sunk you so low in sin! They are your lewd,and drunken, and savage deities, who have taught you all your refinementin wickedness; and never, till you renounce them, never till you repentyou of your iniquities--never till you turn and worship the true Godwill you rise out of the black Tartarean slough in which you are lying.These two hundred years and more has God called to you by his Son, andyou have turned away your ears; you have hardened your hearts; theprophets who have come to you in his name have you slain by the sword orhung upon the accursed tree. Awake out of your slumbers! These are thelast days. God will not forbear forever. The days of vengeance willcome; they are now at hand: I can hear the rushing of that red right armhot with wrath--'

  'Away with him! away with him!' broke from an hundred voices!--'Downwith the blasphemer!'--'Who is he to speak thus of the gods ofRome?'--'Seize the impious Gallilean, and away with him to theprefect'--These, and a thousand exclamations of the same kind, and moresavage, were heard on every side; and, at the same moment, their denialand counter-exclamations, from as many more.

  'He has spoken the truth!'--'He is a brave fellow!' 'He shall not betouched except we fall first!'--came from a resolute band whoencompassed the preacher, and seemed resolved to make good their wordsby defending him against whatever assault might be made. Macer, himselfa host in such an affray, neither spoke nor moved, standing upright andstill as a statue; but any one might see the soldier in his kindlingeye, and that a slight cause would bring him upon the assailants with afury that would deal out wounds and death. He had told them that the oldLegionary was not quite dead within him, and sometimes usurped the placeof the Christian; this they seemed to remember, and after showeringupon him vituperation and abuse in every form, one after another theywithdrew and left him with those who had gathered immediately aroundhim. These too soon took their leave of him, and Macer, unimpeded andalone, turned towards his home.

  When I related to Probus afterwards what I had heard and witnessed, hesaid that I was fortunate in hearing what was so much more sober andcalm than that which usually fell from him; that generally he devotedhimself to an exposition of the absurdities of the heathen worship, andthe abominations of the mysteries, and the vices of the priesthood; andhe rarely ended without filling with rage a great proportion of thosewho heard him. Many a time had he been assaulted; and hardly had escapedwith his life. You will easily perceive, Fausta, how serious an injuryis inflicted upon us by rash and violent declaimers like Macer. Thereare others like him; he is by no means alone, though he is far the mostconspicuous. Together they help to kindle the flame of active hostility,and infuse fresh bitterness into the Pagan heart. Should the Emperorcarry into effect the purposes now ascribed to him, these men will besure victims, and the first.

  * * * * *

  Upon my return after hearing Macer, I found Livia seated with Julia, towhom she often comes thus, and then together--I often accompanying--wevisit Tibur. She had but just arrived. It was easy to see that thelight-heartedness, which so manifested itself always in the beamingcountenance and the elastic step, was gone; the usual signs of it atleast were not visible. Her whole expression was serious and anxious;and upon her face were the traces of recent grief. For a long time,after the first salutations and inquiries were through, neither spoke.At length Livia said,

  'I am come now, Julia, to escape from what has become of late littleother than a prison. The Fabrician dungeons are not more gloomy than thegardens of Sallust are now. No more gaiety; no feasting by day andcarousal by night; the gardens never illuminated; no dancing nor music.It is a new life for me: and then the only creatures to be seen, thathideous Fronto and the smiling Varus; men very well in their place, butno inmates of palaces.'

  'Well' said Julia; 'there is the greater reason why we should see moreof each other and of Zenobia. Aurelian is the same?'

  'The same? There is the same form, and the same face, and the samevoice; but the form is motionless, save when at the Hippodrome,--theface black as Styx, and his voice rougher than the raven's. Thatagreeable humor and sportiveness, which seemed native to him, though byreason of his thousand cares not often seen, is now wholly gone. He isobservant as ever of all the forms of courtesy, and I am to him what Ihave ever been; but a dark cloud has settled over him and all the house,and I would willingly escape if I could. And worse than all, is this ofAurelia! Alas, poor girl!'

  'And what, Livia, is the truth?' said Julia; 'the city is filled withrumors, but they are so at variance one with another, no one knows whichto believe, or whether none.'

  'I hardly know myself,' replied Livia. 'All I know with certainty is,that I have lost my only companion--or the only one I cared for--andthat Aurelian merely says she has been sent to the prisons at theFabrician bridge. I cannot tell you of our parting. Aurelia was suresomething terrible was designed against her, from the sharpness andviolence of her uncle's language, and she left me as if she were neverto see me again. But I would believe no such thing, and so I told her,and tried to give to her some of the courage and cheerfulness which Ipretended to have myself: but it was to no purpose. She departed weepingas if her heart were broken. I love her greatly, notwithstanding herusual air of melancholy and her preference of solitude, and I have foundin her, as you know, my best friend and companion. Yet I confess thereis that in her which I never understood, and do not now understand. Ihope she will comply with the wishes of Aur
elian, and that I shall soonsee her again. The difficulty is all owing to this new religion. I wish,Julia, there were no such thing. It seems to me to do nothing but sowdiscord and violence.'

  'That, dear Livia,' said Julia, 'is not a very wise wish; especiallyseeing you know, as you will yourself confess, so little about it.'

  'But,' quickly added Livia, 'was it not better as it was at Palmyra? whoheard then of these bitter hostilities? who were there troubled abouttheir worship? One hardly knew there was such a thing as a Christian.When Paul was at the palace, it was still all the same only, ifanything, a little more agreeable. But here, no one at the gardensspeaks of Christians but with an assassin air that frightens one. Theremust surely be more evil in them than I ever dreamed of.'

  'The evil, Livia,' answered her sister, 'comes not from the Christiansnor Christianity, but from those who oppose them. There were alwaysChristians in Palmyra, and, as you say, even in the palace, yet therewas always peace and good-will too. If Christianity were in itself anelement of discord and division, why were no such effects seen there?The truth is, Livia, the division and discord are created, not by thenew religion, but by those who resist it, and will not suffer people toact and think as they please about it. Under Zenobia, all had liberty tobelieve as they would. And there was under her the reign of universalpeace and good-will. Here, on the other hand, it has been the practiceof the state to interfere, and say what the citizens shall believe andwhom they shall worship, and what and whom they shall not. How should itbe otherwise than that troubles should spring up, under legislation soabsurd and so wicked? Would it not be a certain way to introduceconfusion, if the state--or Aurelian--should prescribe our food anddrink? or our dress? And if confusion did arise, and bitter opposition,you could not justly say it was owing to the existence of certain kindsof food, or of clothes which people fancied, but to their beinginterfered with. Let them alone, and they will please themselves and beat peace.'

  'Yes,' said Livia, 'that may be. But the common people are in no way fitjudges in such things, and it seems to me if either party must give way,it were better the people did. The government has the power and theywill use it.'

  'In so indifferent a matter as food or dress,' rejoined the sister, 'ifa government were so foolish as to make prohibitory and whimsical laws,it were better to yield than contend. But in an affair so different fromthat as one's religion, one could not act in the same way. I may dressin one kind of stuff as well as another; it is quite a possible thing:but is it not plainly impossible, if I think one kind of stuff is of anexquisite fineness and color, for me to believe and say at the sametime, that its texture is coarse and its hue dull? The mind cannotbelieve according to any other laws than those of its own constitution.Is it not then the height of wickedness to set out to make peoplebelieve and act one way in religion? The history of the world has shownthat, in spite of men's wickedness, there is nothing on earth they valueas they do their religion. They will die rather than change or renounceit. Men are the same now. To require that any portion of the peopleshall renounce their religion is to require them to part with that whichthey value most--more than life itself--and is it not in effectpronouncing against them a sentence of destruction? Some indeed willrelinquish it rather than die; and some will play the hypocrite for aseason, intending to return to a profession of it in more peacefultimes: but most, and the best, will die before they will disown theirfaith.'

  'Then if that is so,' said Livia, 'and I confess what you say cannot bedenied, I would that Aurelian could be prevailed upon to recede from aposition which he appears to be taking. His whole nature now seems tohave been set on fire by this priest Fronto. Superstition has whollyseized and possessed him. His belief is that Rome can never be secureand great till the enemies of the gods, as well as of the state, shallperish; and pushed on by Fronto, so far as can be gathered from theirdiscourse, is now bent on their injury or destruction. I wish he couldbe changed back again to what he was before this notion seized him.Piso, have you seen him? Have you of late conversed with him?'

  'Only, Livia, briefly; and on this topic only at intervals of othertalk; for he avoids it, at least with me. But from what we all know ofAurelian, it is not one's opinion nor another's that can alter his willwhen once bent one way.'

  'How little did I once deem,' said Livia, 'when I used to wish so forgreatness and empire, that they could be so darkened over. I thoughtthat to be great was necessarily to be happy. But I was but a childthen.'

  'How long since was that?' asked Julia, smiling.

  'Ah! you would say I am little better than that now.'

  'You are young yet, Livia, for much wisdom to have come; and you mustnot wonder if it come slowly, for you are unfortunately placed to gainit. An idol on its pedestal can rarely have but two thoughts--that it isan idol, and that it is to be worshipped. The entrance of all otherwisdom is quite shut out.'

  'How pleasant a thing it is, Piso, to have an elder sister as wise asJulia! But come, will you to Tibur? I must have Faustula, now I havelost Aurelia.'

  'O no, Livia,' said Julia; 'take her not away from Zenobia. She can illspare her.'

  'But there is Vabalathus.'

  'Yes, but he is now little there. He is moreover preparing for hisvoyage. Faustula is her all.'

  'Ah, then it cannot be! Yes, it were very wrong. But, this being so, Isee not then but I must go to her, or come live with you. Only think ofone's trying to escape from the crown of Rome? I can hardly believe I amLivia; once never to be satisfied with power and greatness--now tired ofthem! No, not that exactly--'

  'You are tired, only, Livia, of some little attendant troubles; you likenot that overhanging cloud you just spoke of; but for the empire itself,you love that none the less. To believe that, it is enough to see you.'

  'I suppose you are right. Julia is always right, Piso.'

  So our talk ran on; sometimes into graver and then into lighterthemes--often stopping and lingering long over you, and Calpurnius, andGracchus. You wished to know more of Livia and her thoughts, and I havegiven her to you in just the mood in which she happened to be.

  * * * * *

  The wife of Macer has just been here, seeking from Julia both assistanceand comfort. She implores us to do what we may to calm and sober herhusband.

  'As the prospect of danger increases,' she said to Julia, 'he grows butthe more impetuous and ungovernable. He is abroad all the day and everyday, preaching all over Rome, and brings home nothing for the support ofthe family; and if it were not for the Emperor's bounty, we shouldstarve.'

  'And does that support you?'

  'O no, lady! it hardly gives us food enough to subsist upon. Then wehave besides to pay for our lodging and our clothes. But I should mindnot at all our labor nor our poverty, did I not hear from so many thatmy husband is so wild and violent in his preaching, and when he disputeswith the gentiles, as he will call them. I am sure it is a good causeto suffer in, if one must suffer; but if our dear Macer would only workhalf the time, there would be no occasion to suffer, which we should nowwere it not for Demetrius the jeweler--who lives hard by, and who I amsure has been very kind to us--and our good AElia.'

  'You do not then,' I asked, 'blame your religion nor weary of it?'

  'O, sir, surely not. It is our greatest comfort. We all look out withexpectation of our greatest pleasure, when Macer returns home, after hisday's labors,--and labors they surely are, and will destroy him, unlesshe is persuaded to leave them off. For when he is at home the childrenall come round him, and he teaches them in his way what religion is.Sometimes it is a long story he gives them of his life, when he was alittle boy and knew nothing about Christ, and what wicked things he did,and sometimes about his serving as a soldier under the Emperor. But henever ends without showing them what Christ's religion tells them tothink of such ways of life. And then, sir, before we go to bed he readsto us from the gospels--which he bought when he was in the army, and wasricher than he is now--and prays for us all, for the city
, and theEmperor, and the gentiles. So that we want almost nothing, as I may say,to make us quite contented and happy.'

  'Have you ever been disturbed in your dwelling on Macer's account?'

  'O yes, sir, and we are always fearing it. This is our great trouble.Once the house was attacked by the people of the street, and almost torndown--and we escaped, I and the children, through a back way into theshop of the good Demetrius. There we were safe; and while we were goneour little cabin was entered, and everything in it broken in pieces.Macer was not at home, or I think he would have been killed.

  'Did you apply to the prefect?'

  'No, sir, I do not believe there would be much use in that: they say hehates the Christians so.'

  'But he is bound to preserve order in the city.'

  'Yes, sir; but for a great man like him it's easy to see only one way,and to move so slowly that it does no good. That is what our people sayof him. When the Christians are in trouble he never comes, if he comesat all, till it is too late to do them any service. The best way for usis, I think, to live quietly, and not needlessly provoke the gentiles,nor believe that we can make Christians of them all in a day. That is myhusband's dream. He thinks that he must deliver his message to people,whether they will or not, and it almost seems as if the more hostilethey were, the more he made it his duty to preach to them, whichcertainly was not the way in which Christ did, as he reads his historyto us. It was just the other way. It almost makes me believe that somedemon has entered into him, he is so different from what he was, andabroad from what he is at home. Do you think that likely, sir? I havebeen at times inclined to apply to Felix to see if he could not exorcisehim.'

  'No, I do not think so certainly; but many may. I believe he errs in hisnotion of the way in which to do good; but under some circumstances itis so hard to tell which the best way is, that we must judge charitablyof one another. Some would say that Macer is right; others that thecourse of Probus is wisest; and others, that of Felix. We must do as wethink right, and leave the issue to God.'

  'But you will come and see us? We dwell near the ruins, and behind theshop of Demetrius. Every body knows Demetrius.'

  I assured her I would go.

  I almost wish, Fausta, that Julia was with you. All classes seem alikeexposed to danger. But I suppose it would be in vain to propose such astep to her, especially after what she said to Isaac. You now, afteryour storm, live at length in calm: not exactly in sunshine; for youwould say the sun never can seem to shine that falls upon the ruins ofPalmyra. But calm and peace you certainly have, and they are much. Iwish Julia could enjoy them with you. For here, every hour, so it nowseems to me, the prospect darkens, and it will be enough for one of usto remain to encounter the evil, whatever it may be, and defend thefaith we have espoused. This is an office more appropriate to man thanto woman; though emergencies may arise, as they have, when woman herselfmust forget her tenderness and put on soldiers' panoply; and when it hascome, never has she been found wanting. Her promptness to believe thatwhich is good and pure, has been equalled by her fortitude and patiencein suffering for it.

  You will soon see Vabalathus. He will visit you before he enters uponhis great office. By him I shall write to you soon again. Farewell.

  * * * * *

  AURELIAN;

  ROME IN THE THIRD CENTURY

  * * * * *