Chapter XIII: Letter IX: From Piso to Fausta (2)

It was felt to be useless to reason with this impetuous and self-willed man. He must be left to work out his own path through the surrounding perils, and bear whatever evil his violent rashness might draw upon his head. Yet his are those extreme and violent opinions and feelings which are so apt to carry away the multitude, and it was easy to see that a large proportion of the assembly went with him. Another occasion was given for their expression.

When it had been determined that the edicts should be observed so far as to refrain from all public preaching and all assembling together, till the Emperor had been first appealed to, it then became a question in what manner he should be approached, and by whom, in behalf of the whole body. And no sooner had Macer ceased, than the same voice which had first brought those charges against Probus was again heard--the voice as I have since learned of a friend of Felix, and an exorcist.

'If it be now determined,' said the voice, 'that we appeal to the clemency of the Emperor in order to avert from our heads the evil that seems to be more than threatened, let it be done by some one who in his faith may nay represent the great body of Christ's followers. Whether the Emperor shall feel well inclined toward us or not, will it not greatly depend upon the manner in which the truth in Christ shall be set forth, and whether by means of the principles and doctrines that shall be shown to belong to it and constitute it, it shall be judged by him to be of hurtful or beneficial tendency? Now it is well known to all how variously Christ is received and interpreted in Rome. As received by some, his gospel is one thing; as received by others, it is another and quite a different thing. Who can doubt that our prospect of a favorable hearing with Aurelian will be an encouraging one in the proportion that he shall perceive our opinions to agree with those which have already been advanced in the schools of philosophy--especially in that of the divine Plato. This agreement and almost identity has, ever since the time of Justin, been pointed out and learnedly defended. They who perceive this agreement, and rest in it as their faith, now constitute the greater part of the Christian world. Let him then who is to bespeak for us the Emperor's good-will be, as in good sooth he ought to be, of these opinions. As to the declaration that has been made that one is as much a Christian as another, whatever the difference of faith may be, I cannot receive it; and he who made the declaration, I doubt would scarce abide by it, since as I learn he is a worshipper and follower of that false-hearted interloper Novatian. The puritans least of all are apt to regard with favor those who hold not with them. Let Felix then, who, if any now living in Rome may stand forward as a specimen of what Christ's religion is in both its doctrine and its life--let Felix plead our cause with Aurelian.'

The same difference of feeling and opinion manifested itself as before. Many voices immediately cried out, 'Yes, yes, Felix, let Felix speak for us.' While others from every part of the room were heard shouting out, 'Probus, Probus, let Probus be our advocate!'

At length the confusion subsided as a single voice made itself heard above the others and caught their attention, saying,

'If Felix, O Christians, as has just been affirmed, represents the opinions which are now most popular in the Christian world, at least here in Rome, Probus represents those which are more ancient--' He was instantly interrupted.

'How long ago,' cried another, 'lived Paul of Samosata?'

'When died the heretic Sabellius?' added still another.

'Or Praxeas?' said a third, 'or Theodotos? or Artemon?'

'These,' replied the first, soon as he could find room for utterance--'these are indeed not of the earliest age, but they from whom they learned their faith are of that age, namely, the apostles and the great master of all.'

'Heresy,' cried out one who had spoken before, 'always dates from the oldest; it never has less age nor authority than that of Christ.'

'Christians! Christians!' Macer's stentorian voice was now heard towering above the tumult, 'what is it ye would have? What are these distinctions about which ye dispute? What have they to do with the matter now in hand? How would one doctrine or the other in such matters weigh with Aurelian more than straws or feathers? But if these are stark naught, and less than naught, there are other questions pertinent to the time, nay, which the time forces upon us, and about which we should be well agreed. A new age of persecution has arisen, and the church is about to be sifted, and the wheat separated from the chaff--the first to be gathered into the garners of God, the last to be burnt up in fire unquenchable. Now is it to be proved who are Christ's, and who are not--who will follow him bearing their cross to some new Calvary, and who, saving their lives, shall yet lose them. Who knows not the evil that, in the time of Decius, yes, and before and since too, fell upon the church from the so easy reception and restoration of those who, in an hour of weakness and fear, denied their master and his faith, and bowed the knee to the gods of Rome? Here is the danger against which we are to guard; from this quarter--not from any other of vain jargon concerning natures, essences, and modes of being--are we to look for those fatal inroads to be made upon the purity of the gospel, that cannot but draw along with them corruption and ruin. Of what stuff will the church then be made, when they who are its ministers, deacons and bishops, shall be such as, when danger showed itself, relapsed into idolatry, and, soon as the clouds had drifted by, and the winds blew soft, came forth again into the calm sunshine, renounced their idolatry, and again professing Christ, were received to the arms of the church, and even to the communion of the body and blood of our Lord? Christians, the great Novatian is he to whom we owe what purity the church yet retains, and it is in allegiance to him--'

'The great Novatian!' exclaimed a priest of the Roman church, 'great only in his infamy! Himself an apostate once, he sought afterwards, having been received himself back again to the church upon his repentance, to bury his shame under a show of zeal against such as were guilty of the same offence. His own weakness or sin, instead of teaching him compassion, served but to harden his heart. Is this the man to whose principles we are to pledge ourselves? Were his principles sound in themselves, we could hardly take them from such a source. But they are false. They are in the face of the spirit and letter of the gospel. What is the character of the religion of Christ, if it be not mercy? Yet this great Novatian, to those who like Peter have fallen--Peter whom his master received and forgave--denies all mercy! and for one offence, however penitence may wring the soul, cuts them off forever like a rotten branch from the body of Christ! Is this the teacher whose follower should appeal for us to the Roman Emperor?'

'I seek not,' Macer began to say, 'to defend the bishop of Rome--'

'Bishop!' cried the other, 'bishop! who ever heard that Novatian was bishop of Rome? But who has not heard that that wicked and ambitious man through envy of Cornelius, and resolved to supplant him, caused himself to be ordained bishop by a few of that order, weak and corrupt men, whom he bribed to the bad work, but who, corrupt as they were, and bribed as they were, it was first needful to make drunk before conscience would allow them by such act eternally to disgrace themselves and the church--'

'Lies and slanders all,' cried Macer and others with him, in the same breath and with their utmost voice. The greatest confusion prevailed. A thousand contradictory cries were heard. In the midst of the uproar the name of Macer was proclaimed by many as that of one who would best assert and defend the Christian cause before Aurelian. But these were soon overborne and silenced by a greater number, who now again called upon Probus to fill that office.

Probus seemed not sorry that, his name being thus tumultuously called out, he had it again in his power to speak to the assembly. Making a sign accordingly that he would be heard, he said,

'That he coveted not the honorable office of appealing for them to the Emperor of Rome. It would confer more happiness a thousand fold, Christians, if I could by any words of mine put harmony and peace into your hearts, than if I might even convert a Roman emperor. What a scene of confusion and discord is this, at such an hour, when, if ever, our hearts should be drawn closer together by this exposure to a common calamity. Why is it that when at home, or moving abroad in the business of life, your conversation so well becomes your name and faith, drawing upon you even the commendation of your Pagan foes, you no sooner assemble together, as now, than division and quarrel ensue, in such measure, as among our Heathen opponents is never seen? Why is it, Christians, that when you are so ready to die for Christ, you will not live at peace for him? Honor you not him more by showing that you are of his spirit, that for his name's sake you are willing to bear patiently whatever reproach may be laid upon you, than you do even by suffering and dying for him? The questions you have here agitated are not for this hour and place. What now does it signify whether one be a follower of Paul, of Origen, of Sabellius, or Novatian, when we are each and all so shortly to be called upon to confess our allegiance to neither of these--but to a greater, even Jesus, the master and head of us all! And what has our preference for some of the doctrines of either of these to do with our higher love of Christ and his truth? By such preference is our superior and supreme regard for Jesus and his word vitiated or invalidated? Nay, what is it we then do when we embrace the peculiar doctrine of some great or good man, who has gone before, but embrace that which in a peculiar sense we regard as the doctrine of Christ? We receive the peculiar doctrine of Paul, or Justin, or Origen, not because it is theirs, but because we think they have shown it to be eminently the doctrine of Christ. In binding upon us then the dogmas of any teacher, we ought not to be treated other than as those who, in doing so, are seeking to do the highest honor, not to such teacher, but to Christ. I am charged as a disciple of the bishop of Antioch, and the honored Felix as a disciple of Plato. If I honor Paul of Samosata, Christians, for any of his truth, it is because I deem him to have discerned clearly the truth as it is in Jesus. My faith is not in him, but in Jesus. And if Felix honor Plato or Plotinus, it is but because in them he beholds some clearer unfolding--clearer than elsewhere--of the truth in Christ. Are not we then, and all who do the same thing, to be esteemed as those who honor Christ? not deny nor forsake him. And as we all hold in especial reverence some one or another of a former age, through whom as a second master we receive the doctrines of the gospel, ought we not all to love and honor one another, seeing that in the same way we all love and honor Christ? Let love, Christians, mutual honor and love, be the badge of our discipleship, as it was in the first age of the church. Soon, very soon, will you be called to bear testimony to the cause you have espoused, and perhaps seal it with your blood. Be not less ready to show your love to those around you by the promptness with which you lend your sympathy, or counsel, or aid, as this new flood of adversity flows in upon them. But why do I exhort you? The thousand acts of kindness, of charity, of brotherly love, which flow outwards from you in a perpetual stream toward Heathen not less than Christian, and have drawn upon you the admiration even of the Pagan world, is sufficient assurance that your hearts will not be cold when the necessities of this heavier time shall lay upon you their claims. It is only in the public assembly, and in the ardor of debate, that love seems cold and dead. Forget then, now and tomorrow, that you are followers of any other than Christ. Forget that you call yourselves after one teacher or another, and remember only that you are brethren, members of one family, of the same household of faith, owning one master, worshipping one and the same God and Father of us all. And now, Christians, if you would rather that Felix should defend you before Aurelian, I would also. There is none among us who loves Christ more or better than he, or would more readily lay down his life for his sake.'

Felix however joined with all the others--for all now, after these few words of Probus, seemed of one opinion--in desiring that Probus should appear for the Christians before the Emperor; which he then consented to do. Harmony was once more restored. The differences of opinion, which separated them, seemed to be forgotten, and they mingled as friends and fellow-laborers in the great cause of truth. They who had been harshest in the debate--which was at much greater length, and conducted with much more vehemence than as I have described it--were among the most forward to meet with urbanity those who were in faith the most distantly removed from them. A long and friendly interview then took place, in which each communed with each, and by words of faith or affection helped to supply the strength which all needed for the approaching conflict. One saw no longer and heard no longer the enthusiastic disputant more bent upon victory than truth, and heedless of the wounds he gave to the heart, provided he convinced the head or silenced the tongue, but instead, those who now appeared no other than a company of neighbors and friends engaged in the promotion of some common object of overwhelming interest.

When in this manner and for a considerable space of time a fit offering had been laid upon the altar of love, the whole assembly again joined together in acts of prayer, and again lifted up their voices in song of praise. This duty being performed, we separated and sought the streets. The storm which had begun in violence, had increased, and it was with difficulty that beset by darkness, wind, and rain, I succeeded without injury in finding my way to the Coelian.

Julia was waiting for me with anxious impatience.

After relating to her the events of the evening, she said,

'How strange, Lucius, the conduct of such men at such a time! How could Christians, with the Christian's faith in their hearts, so lose the possession of themselves--and so violate all that they profess as followers of Jesus! I confess, if this be the manner in which Christianity is intended to operate upon the character, I am as yet wholly ignorant of it, and desire ever to remain so. But it is not possible that they are right. Nay, they seem in some sort to have acknowledged themselves to have been in the wrong by the last acts of the meeting. This brings to my mind what Paul has often told me of the Christians of the same kind, at which I was then amazed, but had forgotten. I do not comprehend it. I have read and studied the character and the teachings of Jesus, and it seems to me I have arrived at some true understanding--for surely there is little difficulty in doing so--of what he himself was, and of what he wished his followers to be. Would he have recognized his likeness in those of whom you have now told me?'

'Yet,' I replied, 'there was more of it there in those very persons than at first we might be inclined to think; and in the great multitude of those who were present, it may have been all there, and was in most, I cannot doubt. We ought not to judge of this community by the leaders of the several divisions which compose it. They are by no means just specimens, from which to infer the character of all. They are but too often restless, ambitious, selfish men; seeking their own aggrandizement and their party's, rather than the glory of Christ and his truth. I can conceive of a reception of Christian precept and of the Christian spirit being but little more perfect and complete, than I have found it among the humbler sort of the Christians of Rome. Among them there is to be seen nothing of the temper of violence and bigotry that was visible this evening in the language of so many. They, for the most part, place the religion of Jesus in holy living, in love of one another, and patient waiting for the kingdom of God. And their lives are seen to accord with these great principles of action. Even for their leaders, who are in so many points so different from them, this may be said in explanation and excuse--that from studying the record more than the common people, they come to consider more narrowly in what the religion of Jesus consists, and arriving, after much labor, at what they believe in their hearts to be the precise truth--truth the most vital of any to the power and success of the gospel--this engrosses all their affections, and prompts all their labor and zeal. In the dissemination of this do they alone behold the dissemination of Christianity itself--this being denied or rejected, the gospel itself is. With such notions as fundamental principles of action, it is easy to see with what sincere and virtuous indignation they would be filled toward such as should set at nought and oppose that, which they cherish as the very central glory and peculiarity of Christianity. These things being so, I can pity and forgive a great deal of what appears to be, and is, so opposite to the true Christian temper, on account of its origin and cause. Especially as these very persons, who are so impetuous, and truculent almost, as partizans and advocates, are, as private Christians, examples perhaps of extraordinary virtue. We certainly know this to be the case with Macer. An apostle was never more conscientious nor more pure. Yet would he, had he power equal to his will, drive from the church all who bowed not the knee to his idol Novatian.'

'But how,' asked Julia, 'would that agree with the offence he justly took at those who quarreled with Probus and Felix on account of their doctrine?'

'There certainly would be in such conduct no agreement nor consistency. It only shows how easy it is to see a fault in another, to which we are stone-blind in ourselves. In the faith or errors of Probus and Felix he thought there was nothing that should injure their Christian name, or unfit them for any office. Yet in the same breath he condemned as almost the worst enemies of Christ such as refused honor and adherence to the severe and inhuman code of his master Novatian.'

'But how far removed, Lucius, is all this from the spirit of the religion of Jesus! Allowing all the force of the apologies you may offer, is it not a singular state for the minds and tempers of those to have arrived at, who profess before the world to have formed themselves after the doctrine, and, what is more, after the character of Christ? I cannot understand the process by which it has been done, nor how it is that, without bringing upon themselves public shame and reproach, such men can stand forth and proclaim themselves not only Christians, but Christian leaders and ministers.'

'I can understand it, I confess, quite as little. But I cannot doubt that as Christianity outgrows its infancy, especially when the great body of those who profess it shall have been formed by it from their youth, and shall not be composed, as now, of those who have been brought over from the opposite and uncongenial regions of Paganism, with much of their former character still adhering to them, Christians will then be what they ought to be who make the life and character of Jesus their standard. Nothing is learned so slowly by mankind as those lessons which enforce mutual love and respect, in which the gospels so abound. We must allow not only years, but hundreds of years, for these lessons to be imprinted upon the general heart of men, and to be seen in all their character and intercourse. But when a few hundred years shall have elapsed, and that is a long allowance for this education to be perfected in, I can conceive that the times of the primitive peace and love shall be more than restored, and that such reproaches as to-night were heard lavished upon one and another will be deemed as little compatible with a Christian profession as would be violence and war. All violence and wrong must cease, as this religion is received, and the ancient superstitions and idolatries die out.'

'What a privilege, to be born and live,' said Julia, 'in those fast approaching years, when Christianity shall alone be received as the religion of this large empire, when Paganism shall have become extinct in Rome war and slavery shall cease, and all our people shall be actuated by the same great principles of faith and virtue that governed both Christ and his apostles! A few centuries will witness more and better than we now dream of.'

So we pleased ourselves with visions of future peace and happiness, which Christianity was to convert to reality. To me they are no longer mere visions, but as much realities to be experienced, as the future towering oak is, when I look upon an acorn planted, or as the future man is, when I look upon a little child. If Christianity grows at all, it must grow in such direction. If it do not, it will not be Christianity that grows, but something else that shall have assumed its name and usurped its place. The extension of Christianity is the extension and multiplication as it were of that which constituted Christ himself--it is the conversion of men into his image--or else it is nothing. Then, when this shall be done, what a paradise of peace, and holiness, and love, will not the earth be! Surely, to be used as an instrument in accomplishing such result, one may well regard as an honor and privilege, and be ready to bear and suffer much, if need be, in fulfilling the great office.

I hope I shall not have wearied you by all this exactness. I strictly conform to your injunctions, so that you can complain only of yourself.

We often wish that the time would allow us to escape to you, that we might witness your labors and share them in the rebuilding and reëmbelishing of the city. Rome will never be a home to Julia. Her affections are all in Syria. I can even better conceive of Zenobia becoming a Roman than Julia. Farewell.

* * * * *

Finding among the papers of Piso no letter giving any account of what took place immediately after the meeting of the Christians, which, in his last letter, he has so minutely described, I shall here supply, as I may, the deficiency; and I can do it at least with fidelity, since I was present at the scenes of which I shall speak.

No one took a more lively interest in the condition and affairs of the Christians than Zenobia; and it is with sorrow that I find among the records of Piso no mention made of conversations had at Tibur while these events were transpiring, at which were present himself, and the princess Julia, the Queen, and, more than once, Aurelian and Livia. While I cannot doubt that such record was made, I have in vain searched for it among those documents which he intrusted to me.

It was by command of the Queen that on the day following that on which the Christians held their assembly at the baths, I went to Rome for the very purpose to learn whatever I could, both at the Gardens and abroad in the city, concerning the condition and probable fate of that people, she desiring more precise information than could be gathered from any of the usual sources of intelligence.

It was apparent to me as I entered the city, and penetrated to its more crowded parts, that somewhat unusual had taken place, or was about to happen. There were more than the common appearances of excitement among those whom I saw conversing and gesticulating at the corners of streets or the doors of the public baths. This idle and corrupt population seemed to have less than on other occasions to employ their hands, and so gave their time and their conversation to one another, laying no restraint upon the quantity of either. It is an indisputable fact that Rome exists to this day, for any one who will come into Italy may see it for himself, and he cannot reject the testimony of his eyes and ears. But how it exists from year to year, or from day to day, under such institutions, it would puzzle the wisest philosopher, I believe, to tell. Me, who am no philosopher, it puzzles as often as I reflect upon it. I cannot learn the causes that hold together in such apparent order and contentment so idle and so corrupt a people. I have supposed it must be these, but they seem not sufficient: the Prætorian camp without the walls, and the guard, in league with them, within, and the largesses and games proceeding from the bounty of the Emperor. These last, though they are the real sources of their corruption and must end in the very destruction of the city and people, yet, at present, operate to keep them quiet and in order. So long as these bounties are dispensed, so long, such is our innate love of idleness and pleasure, will the mass think it foolish to agitate any questions of right or religion, or any other, by which they might be forfeited. Were these suddenly suspended, all the power of the Prætorian cohorts, I suppose, could not keep peace in Rome. They were now I found occupied by the affairs of the Christians, and waiting impatiently for the orders which should next issue from the imperial will. The edicts published two days before gave them no employment, nor promised much. They merely laid restraints upon the Christians, but gave no liberty of assault and injury to the Roman.

'That does not satisfy the people,' said one to me, at the door of a shop, of whom I had made some inquiry on the subject. 'More was looked for from the Emperor, for it is well known that he intends the extremest measures, and most are of opinion that, before the day is out, new edicts will be issued. Why he took the course he did of so uncommon moderation 'tis hard to say. All the effect of it is to give the Christians opportunity to escape and hide themselves, so that by the time the severer orders against them are published, it will be impossible to carry them into execution.'

'Perhaps,' I said, 'it was after all his intention to give them a distant warning, that some might, if they saw fit to do so, escape.'

'I do not believe that,' he replied; 'it will rather, I am of the opinion, be found to have proceeded from the advice of Fronto and Varus, to give to the proceedings a greater appearance of moderation; which shows into the hands of what owls the Emperor has suffered himself to fall. Nobody ever expected moderation in Aurelian, nor do any but a few as bad as themselves think these wretches deserve it. The only consequence of the present measures will be to increase their swelling insolence and pride, thinking that Aurelian threatens but dares not execute. Before another day, I trust, new edicts will show that the Emperor is himself. The life of Rome hangs upon the death of these.'

Saying which, with a savage scowl, which showed how gladly he would turn executioner or tormentor in such service, he turned and crossed the street.

I then sought the palace of Piso. I was received in the library, where I found the lady Julia and Piso.

They greeted me as they ever did, rather as if I were a brother than but the servant of Zenobia. But whatever belongs to her, were it but so much as a slave of the lowest office, would they treat with affection at least, if not with reverence. After answering their inquiries after the welfare of the Queen and Faustula, I made mine concerning the condition of the city and the affairs of the Christians, saying, 'that Zenobia was anxious to learn what ground there was, or whether any, to feel apprehension for the safety of that people?'--Piso said, 'that now he did not doubt there was great ground for serious apprehension. It was believed by those who possessed the best means of intelligence, that new edicts of a much severer character would be issued before another day. But that Zenobia need be under no concern either as to himself or Julia, since the Emperor in conversation with him as much as assured him that, whatever might befal others, no harm should come to them.'

He then gave me an account of what the Christians had done in their assembly, agreeing with what is now to be found in the preceding letter.

I then asked whether he thought that the Christian Macer would keep to the declaration he had made, that he would to-day, the edicts notwithstanding, preach in the streets of Rome! He replied, that he did not doubt that he would, and that if I wished to know what some of the Christians were, and what the present temper of the people was towards them, I should do well to seek him and hear him.'

'Stand by him, good Nicomachus,' said Julia, 'if at any moment you find that you can be of service to him. I have often heretofore blamed him, but since this murder of Aurelia, and the horrors of the dedication, I hold him warranted, and more than that, in any means he may use, to rouse this guilty people. Perhaps it is only by the use of such remedies as he employs, that the heart of Rome--hardened by ages of sin--can be made to feel. To the milder treatment of Probus, and others like him, it seems for the most part utterly insensible and dead. At least his sincerity, his zeal, and his courage, are worthy of all admiration.'

I assured her that I would befriend him if I could do so with any prospect of advantage, but it was little that one could do against the fury of a Roman mob. I then asked Piso if he would not accompany me; but he replied, that he had already heard Macer, and was, besides, necessarily detained at home by other cares.

As there was no conjecturing in what part of the city this Christian preacher would harangue the people, and neither the Princess nor Piso could impart any certain information, I gave little more thought to it, but, as I left the palace on the Coelian, determined to seek the gardens of Sallust, where, if I should not see Aurelian, I might at least pass the earlier hours of the day in an agreeable retreat. I took the street that leads from the Coelian to the Capitol Hill, as affording a pleasanter walk--if longer. On the way there, I observed well the signs which were given in the manner and conversation of those whom I met, or walked with, of the events which were near at hand. There is no better index of what a despotic ruler, and yet at the same time a 'people's' despot, will do, than the present will of the people. It was most apparent to me that they were impatient for some quick and vigorous action, no matter how violent, against the Christians. Language the most ferocious met my ear. The moderation and tardiness of the Emperor--of him who had in every thing else been noted for the rapidity of his movements--were frequent subjects of complaint.

'It is most strange,' they said, 'that Aurelian should hesitate in this matter, in truth as if he were afraid to move. Were it not for Fronto, it is thought that nothing would be done after all. But this we may feel sure of, that if the Emperor once fairly begins the work of extermination, he is not the man to stop half way. And there is not a friend of the ancient institutions of religion, but who says that their very existence depends upon--not the partial obstruction of this sect--but upon its actual and total extermination. Who does not know that measures of opposition and resistance, which go but part way and then stop, through a certain unwillingness as it were to proceed to extremes, do but increase the evil they aim to suppress. Weeds that are but mown, come up afterwards only the more vigorously. Their very roots must be torn up and then burned.' Such language was heard on all sides, uttered with utmost violence--of voice and gesture.

I paused, among other curious and busy idlers, at the door of a smith's shop, which, as I passed slowly by, presented a striking view of a vast and almost boundless interior, blazing with innumerable fires, where laborers half naked--and seeming as if fire themselves, from the reflection from their steaming bodies of the red glare of the furnaces--stood in groups, some drawing forth the bars of heated metal and holding them, while others wielding their cyclopean hammers made the anvils and the vast interior ring with the blows they gave. All around the outside of the shop and in separate places within stood the implements and machines of various kinds which were either made, or were in the process of being put together. Those whom I joined were just within the principal entrance looking upon a fabric of iron consisting of a complicated array of wheels and pulleys, to which the workmen were just in the act of adding the last pieces. The master of the place now approaching and standing with us, while he gave diverse orders to the men, I said to him,

'What new device may this be? The times labor with new contrivances by which to assist the laborer in his art, and cause iron to do what the arm has been accustomed to perform. But after observing this with care I can make nothing of it. It seems not designed to aid any manufacture of which I have any knowledge.'

The master looked at me with a slighting expression of countenance as much as to say 'you are a wise one! You must have just emerged from the mountains of Helvetia, or the forests of the Danube.' But he did not content himself with looks.

'This, sir?' said he. 'This, if you would know it, is a rack--a common instrument of torture--used in all the prisons of the empire, the use of which is to extract truth from one who is unwilling to speak except compelled; or, sometimes, when death is thought too slight a punishment, to give it an edge with, just as salt and pepper are thrown into a fresh wound. Some crimes, you must know, were too softly dealt with, were a sharp axe the only instrument employed. Cæsar! just bring some wires of a good thickness, and we will try this. Now shall you see precisely how it would fare with your own body, were you on this iron frame and Varus standing where I am. There,--Cæsar having in a few moments brought the wires--the body you perceive is confined in this manner.--You observe there can be no escape and no motion. Now at the word of the judge, this crank is turned. Do you see the effect upon the wire? Imagine it your body and you will have a lively idea of the instrument. Then at another wink or word from Varus, these are turned, and you see that another part of the body, the legs or arms as it may be, are subjected to the same force as this wire, which as the fellow keeps turning you see--strains, and straightens, and strains, till--crack!--there!--that is what we call a rack. A most ingenious contrivance and of great use. This is going up within the hour to the hall of the Prefect.'

'It seems,' I remarked, 'well contrived indeed for its object. And what,' I asked, 'are these which stand here? Are they for the same or a similar purpose?'

'Yes--these, sir, are different and yet the same. They are all for purposes of torture, but they vary infinitely in the ingenuity with which they severally inflict pain and death. That is esteemed in Rome the most perfect instrument which, while it inflicts the most exquisite torments, shall at the same time not early, assail that which is a vital part, but, you observe, prolong life to the utmost. Some, of an old-fashioned structure, with a clumsy and bungling machinery--here are some sent to me as useless--long before the truth could be extracted, or much more pain inflicted than would accompany beheading, destroyed the life of the victim. Those which I build--and I build for the State--are not to be complained of in that way. Varus is curious enough, I can assure you, in such things. All these that you see here, of whatever form or make, are for him and the hall of justice. They have been all refitted and repaired--or else they are new.'

'How is it possible,' I asked, 'so many could be required in one place?'

'Surely,' said the master, 'you must just have dropt down in Rome from Britain, or Scythia, or the moon! Didst ever hear of a people called Galilean or Christian? Perhaps the name is new to you.'

'No, I have heard it.'

'Well, these are for them. As you seem new in the city and to our Roman ways, walk a little farther in and I will show you others, which are for the men and the boys at such time as the slaughter of this people shall become general. For you must know,--although it is not got widely abroad yet--that by and by the whole city is to be let loose upon them. That is the private plan of the Emperor. Every good citizen, it will be expected, will do his share in the work, till Rome shall be purged. Aurelian does nothing by halves. It is in view of such a state of things that I have prepared an immense armory--if I may call it so--of every sort of cheap iron tool--I have the more costly also--to meet the great demand that will be made. Here they are! commend now my diligence, my patriotism, and my foresight! Some of my craft will not engage in this work: but it exactly jumps with my humor. Any that you shall choose of these, sir, you shall have cheap, and they shall be sent to your lodgings.'

I expressed my gratitude, but declined the offer.

After wandering a little longer around the huge workshop, I took my leave of its humane master, still entreating me to purchase, and, as I entered again the street, turned towards the capitol. My limbs were sympathising with those wires throughout the rest of the day.

I had forgotten Macer, and almost my object in coming abroad, and was revolving various subjects in my mind, my body only being conscious of the shocks which now and then I received from persons meeting or passing me, when I became conscious of a sudden rush along the street in the direction of the capitol, which was now but a furlong from where I was. I was at once awake. The people began to run, and I ran with them by instinct. At length it came into my mind to ask why we were running? One near me replied,

'O, it's only Macer the Christian, who, 'tis said, in spite of the edict, has just made for the steps of the capitol, followed by a large crowd.'

On the instant I outstripped my companion, and turning quickly the corner, where the street in which I was crossed the hill, I there beheld an immense multitude gathered around the steps of the capitol, and the tall form of Macer just ascending them. Resolved to be near him, I struggled and forced my way into the mass till I found myself so far advanced that I could both hear and be heard by him, if I should find occasion to speak, and see the expression of his countenance. It was to me, as he turned round toward the people, the most extraordinary countenance I ever beheld. It seemed as if once it had been fiercer than the fiercest beast of the forest, while through that was now to be discerned the deep traces of grief, and an expression which seemed to say, "I and the world have parted company. I dwell above." His two lives and his two characters were to be read at once in the strong and deep-sunk lines of a face that struck the beholder at once with awe, with admiration, and compassion.

The crowd was restless and noisy; heaving to and fro like the fiery mass of a boiling crater. A thousand exclamations and imprecations filled the air. I thought it doubtful whether the rage which seemed to fill a great proportion of those around me would so much as permit the Christian to open his mouth. It seemed rather as if he would at once be dragged from where he stood to the Prefect's tribunal, or hurled from the steps and sacrificed at once to the fury of the populace. But, as the cries of his savage enemies multiplied, the voices of another multitude were lifted up in his behalf, which were so numerous and loud, that they had the effect of putting a restraint upon the others. It was evident that Macer could not be assailed without leading to a general combat. All this while Macer stood unmoved, and calm as the columns of the capitol itself--waiting till the debate should be ended and the question decided--a question of life or death to him. Upon the column immediately on his right hand hung, emblazoned with gold, and beautiful with all the art of the chirographer, the edict of Aurelian. It was upon parchment, within a brazen frame.

Soon as quiet was restored, so that any single voice could be heard, one who was at the foot of the steps and near the preacher cried out to him,

'Well, old fellow, begin! thy time is short.'

'Young man,' he replied, 'I was once old in sin, for which God forgive me!--now I am old in the love of Christ, for which God be thanked!--but in years I am but forty. As for time!--I think only of eternity.'

'Make haste, Macer!' cried another voice from the crowd. 'Varus will soon be here.'

'I believe you,' replied the soldier; 'but I am ready for him. I love life no longer than I can enjoy free speech. If I may not now and here speak out every thought of my heart, and the whole truth in Christ, then would I rather die; and whether I die in my own bed, or upon the iron couch of Varus, matters little. Romans!' turning now and addressing the crowd, 'the Emperor in his edict tells me not to preach to you. Not to preach Christ in Rome, neither within a church nor in the streets. Such is this edict. Shall I obey him? When Christ says, 'Go forth and preach the gospel to every creature,' shall I give ear to a Roman Emperor, who bids me hold my peace? Not so, not so, Romans. I love God too well, and Christ too well, and you too well, to heed such bidding. I love Aurelian too, I have served long under him, and he was ever good to me. He was a good as well as great general, and I loved him. I love him now, but not so well as these; not so well as you. And if I obeyed this edict, it would show that I loved him better than you, and better than these, which would be false. If I obeyed this edict I should never speak to you again of this new religion, as you call it. I should leave you all to perish in your sins, without any of that knowledge, or faith, or hope in Christ, which would save you from them, and form you after the image of God, and after death carry you up to dwell with him and with just men forever and ever. I should then, indeed, show that I hated you, which I can never do. I love you and Rome I cannot tell how much--as much as a child ever loved a mother, or children one another. And therefore it is that no power on earth--nor above it, nor under it--no power, save that of God, shall hinder me from declaring to you the doctrine which I think you need, nay, without which your souls will perish and dwell for ever and ever, not with God, but in fires eternal of the lowest hell. For what can your gods do for you? what are they doing? They lift you not up to themselves--they push you down rather to those fires. Christ, O Romans, if you will receive him, will save you from them, and from those raging fires of sorrow and remorse, which here on earth do constitute a hell hot as any that burns below. It is your sins which kindle those fires, and with which Christ wages war--not with you. It is your sins with which I wage war here in the streets of Rome, not with you. Only repent of your sins, Romans, and believe in Christ the son of God, and O how glorious and happy were then this great and glorious city. I have told you before, and I tell you now, your vices are undermining the foundations of this great empire. There is no power to cure these but in Jesus Christ. And when I know this, shall I cease to preach Christ to you because a man, a man like myself, forbids me? Would you not still prepare for a friend or a child the medicine that would save his life, though you were charged by another never so imperiously to forbear? The gospel is the divine medicament that is to heal all your sicknesses, cure all your diseases, remove all your miseries, cleanse all your pollutions, correct all your errors, confirm within you all necessary truth. And when it is this healing draught for which your souls cry aloud, for which they thirst even unto death, shall I the messenger of God, sent in the name of his Son to bear to your lips the cup, of which if you once drink you will live forever, withhold from you that cup, or dash it to the ground? Shall I, a mediator between God and man, falter in my speech, and my tongue hang palsied in my mouth, because Aurelian speaks? What to me, O Romans, is the edict of a Roman Emperor? Down, down, accursed scrawl! nor insult longer both God and man.'

And saying that, he reached forth his hand, and seizing the parchment wrenched it from its brazen frame, and rending it to shreds strewed them abroad upon the air.

It was done in the twinkling of an eye. At first, horror-struck at the audacity of the deed, and while it was doing, the crowd stood still and mute, bereft, as it were, of all power to move or speak. But soon as the fragments of the parchment came floating along upon the air, their senses returned, and the most violent outcries, curses, and savage yells rose from the assembled multitude, and at the same moment a movement was made to rush upon the Christian, with the evident purpose to sacrifice him on the spot to the offended majesty of the empire. I supposed that their purpose would be easily and instantly accomplished, and that whatever I might attempt to do in his defence would be no more than a straw thrown in the face of a whirlwind. But here a new wonder revealed itself. For no sooner was it evident, from the rage and tumultuous tossings of the crowd, and their ferocious cries, that the last momenta of Macer had arrived, than it was apparent that all in the immediate neighborhood of the building, on whose steps he stood, were either Christians, or Romans, who, like myself, were well disposed towards that people, and would promptly join them in their defence of Macer. These, and they amounted to a large and dense mass, at once, as those cries arose, sent forth others as shouts of defiance, and facing outwards made it known that none could assail Macer but by first assailing them.

I could not doubt that it was a preconcerted act by which the Christian was thus surrounded by his friends--not, as I afterward found, with his knowledge, but done at their own suggestion--so that if difficulty should arise, they, by a show of sufficient power, might rescue him, whom all esteemed in spite of his errors, and also serve by their presence to deter him from any further act, or the use of any language, that should give needless offence to either the Prefect or his friends. Their benevolent design was in part frustrated by the sudden, and, as it seemed, unpremeditated movement of Macer in tearing down the edict. But they still served as a protection against the immediate assaults of the excited and enraged mob.

But their services were soon ended, by the interference of a power with which it was in vain to contend. For when the populace had given over for a moment their design, awed by the formidable array of numbers about the person of Macer, he again, having never moved from the spot where he had stood, stretched out his long arm as if he would continue what he had scarcely as yet begun, and to my surprise the people, notwithstanding what had occurred, seemed not indisposed to hear him. But just at that moment--just as a deep silence had at length succeeded the late uproar--the distant sound, in the direction of the Prefect's, of a troop of horse in rapid movement over the pavements, caught the ears of the people. No one doubted for a moment what it signified.

'Your hour is come, Macer,' cried a voice from the crowd.

'It can never come too soon,' answered the preacher, 'in the service of God. But remember, Roman citizens, what I have told you, that it is for you and for Rome, that I incur the wrath of the wicked Varus, and may so soon at his hands meet the death of a Christian witness.'

As Macer spoke, the Roman guard swept rapidly round a corner, and the multitude giving way in every direction left him alone upon the spot where he had been standing. Regardless of life and limb, the horse dashed through the flying crowds, throwing down many and trampling them under foot, till they reached the Christian, who, undismayed and fearless, maintained his post. There was little ceremony in their treatment of him. He was seized by a band of the soldiers, his hands strongly bound behind him, and placed upon a horse--when, wheeling round again, the troop at full speed vanished down the same avenue by which they had come, bearing their victim, as we doubted not, to the tribunal of Varus.