Several days passed by. The small company in this remote portion of
those vast galleries waited anxiously for news from the upper world.
They had themselves no fear of discovery; for treachery alone, which
they had no cause to dread, could betray their retreat. Other parts,
however, of that underground labyrinth were frequently visited by large
numbers of Christians from the city; and that he might converse with
them, Severus, accompanied by Jovinian, guided by an aged fossor,
traversed the galleries in various directions. What he saw and heard
caused him deep grief as he passed by the groups he here and there found
assembled. Some had come to visit the tombs of relatives or friends
slain during the Diocletian persecutions, or who had died in later days.
They were standing with arms outstretched, and open palms. Several
were praying aloud. Severus stopped to listen.
"Cease, friend, cease, I entreat you!" he exclaimed. "Is it possible
that you, a Christian, can be addressing the spirit of a departed
brother? Have you so learnt Christ? Know you not that His ear is ever
open to our prayers; that His heart beats in sympathy with all in
distress; and that you are dishonouring Him by attempting to employ any
other mediator between God the Father and ourselves than our one sole
great High-priest, the risen Saviour of the world!"
Some to whom Severus spoke stared without answering; others defended the
practice, which had lately, copied from the heathens, been creeping in
among professing Christians; a few only listened respectfully to the
arguments the presbyter brought against it.
Severus and his companions passed on till they reached some vaults, or
rather enlargements of the galleries. Here numerous persons were
assembled, employed in eating and drinking before the tombs contained
within the walls. They were holding love-feasts in commemoration of
their departed friends; but already the simplicity of the custom had
been changed, as was shown by the flushed brows of several of the
revellers; while some, more abstemious, were kneeling or prostrate on
the ground, offering up prayers to the dead martyrs.
Severus, before passing on, warned them of their sin and folly. "O
foolish people, whence have you derived these revellings, this custom of
praying to the dead? Surely from the idolaters by whom you are
surrounded!" he exclaimed. "Instead of being lights shining in the
midst of a dark world, you have become as the blind leaders of the
blind. Beware, lest the light you have be altogether taken away!"
Guided by the aged fossor, he and his companions made their way to those
parts where in the days of the earlier persecutions the bodies of the
few martyrs which had been rescued by their friends had been deposited.
Great was the astonishment of Severus to find several persons with
pickaxes and spades engaged in breaking open the tombs, and placing the
mouldering remains in metal and wooden boxes.
"Why are you thus disturbing the bodies of the departed saints?" he
exclaimed, as he stopped among them. "Could you not allow them to rest
till summoned to rise by the trump of the archangel? Whither are you
about to convey them? How do you intend to dispose of them?"
No one at first replied to those questions.
At length one, who appeared to be a deacon or exorcist, advancing,
answered, "We have been assured that the bones of martyrs can cure
diseases of all sorts, and work many other miracles; and as few can come
here to benefit by them, we are about to convey the sacred relics to
shrines where all may visit them; and some we would send to foreign
lands, where they may assist in spreading the blessed Gospel."
"Say rather, O foolish men, where they may tend to confirm the heathen
in their ignorance. The very idea is taken from the idolaters, who
worship blocks and stones, or any objects presented to them by their
false priests. Could, even in their lifetime, these departed saints
have cured any of the maladies which flesh is heir to? Then much less
can their poor rotting bones, which ere long will be dust. With which
of those bones, with which of those particles of dust, will their
spirits be pleased to dwell, in order to impart such healing power? Oh,
folly unspeakable! to think that the saints of God have further concern
with the frail tenement they have shaken off! They are with Christ, to
whom alone let me urge you to address your prayers. His arm is not
shortened; His love is not lessened. As he healed the sick when he
walked on earth, so can He cure if He thinks fit those who apply to
Him."
Much more Severus said; and he was continuing to address the people,
some of whom were moved by his arguments, when a cry was raised that
soldiers were in the galleries. Presently the ruddy glare of torches
was seen in the far distance.
"Hasten this way," cried the fossor, who suspected that, whatever the
object of the soldiers' visit, those he had in charge might be placed in
danger. Severus and Jovinian followed him, as he rapidly retreated in a
direction opposite to that in which the lights were seen. Loud shouts
were heard echoing through the galleries. It was evident that the
soldiers were in pursuit of some one. The sounds drew nearer. The
fossor ran as fast as his aged limbs would allow; his companions
supporting him. Numerous long passages were traversed.
"The soldiers have a guide with them, or they would not venture thus
far," said the fossor; "but we may still escape them."
As he spoke he led the way through a narrow opening. Severus followed;
Jovinian was about to do so, but he turned for a moment to ascertain the
distance their pursuers still were from them. He then passed through
the opening, but the light from the fossor's lantern was not visible, he
feared to cry out, lest his voice might betray him. He groped his way
forward with outstretched arms. He felt convinced that of two passages
he had taken the wrong one. He turned to retrace his steps. In a few
seconds a bright light flashed in his eyes, and he found himself in the
hands, of several Roman soldiers, who roughly demanded what had become
of his companions.
When Jovinian and Eros made their escape from the college Gaius was
absent, and was not expected to return till the next morning. Of this
the Numidian was aware, and had taken advantage of the occasion.
On the return of the pontiff, somewhat later in the day than usual, when
he inquired for his nephew, he was told by a slave, afraid of speaking
the truth, that Jovinian had gone forth to walk with Eros, and had not
yet come back. Supposing that they had simply taken advantage of the
permission he had granted, he took no further trouble about the matter,
but, throwing himself on a couch, called for a cup of Falernian to
quench his thirst. He was about to order a second when Coecus entered.
A frown was on his brow, and his countenance wore a moody aspect. He
sat down opposite to Gaius, who, looking up, observed, "If aught
troubles you, follow my example, and quaff a cup or two of this generous
wine. Nothing so effectually dissipates the mists which are apt to
gather at times round our brains and obscure the vision."
Coecus turned his eyes away with an expression of contempt from his
convivial companion, and muttered something inaudible. "I have ample
cause for anger and annoyance," he said, at length. "What think you?
This pestiferous doctrine of the Nazarenes has found its way even into
the temple of Vesta. On entering unexpectedly, as it proved, to visit
our fair charges, I found the vestal Coelia, who ought to have been
attending to the sacred fire, so absorbed in reading a book that the
flames were almost extinguished. She started on seeing me, and
endeavoured to conceal the roll; but I snatched it from her, and as I
glanced my eye over the pages, great was my astonishment and indignation
to discover that it was not the production of one of our poets, which I
might have pardoned her for reading, but a portion of what the Nazarenes
call their Scriptures! I cast it on the altar, and, as it was
consuming, I watched the expression of grief which overspread her
countenance, as if she were beholding the destruction of some precious
object. I demanded whence she had obtained the roll, but she stubbornly
refused to inform me. I threatened her with condign punishment; but,
folding her arms on her bosom, she claimed her right as a Roman maiden
to peruse a work approved of by Augustus. `As a vestal, sworn to obey
the rules of your order, you have no right to read what may shake your
confidence in the great goddess to whom your life is dedicated,' I
answered. Much more I said, using persuasions and threats to learn how
she had obtained the roll, and whether others in the temple had imbibed
any of these Christian doctrines. Vain, however, were all my efforts.
I did not expect to find one so young and gentle so determined. I
reminded her that she might be condemned for breaking her vows, and of
the fearful punishment which would follow. She smiled, as if she dared
my power. While we were speaking the sacred fire went out. She seemed
in no way appalled, but handing me two pieces of wood from a felix
arbour, suggested that I should at once re-light it. As in duty bound I
should have scourged her for her neglect, but her youth and beauty
forbade such a proceeding, especially as I had been partly the cause of
the catastrophe. I followed her advice, and the flame soon burned up
again brightly. Reminding her of the double punishment she had
incurred, I sent another vestal to take her place, and delivered her
over to the charge of the Vestalis Maxima, with strict injunctions to
the venerable dame to keep a strict watch over her movements, and to
report to me all she says, and with whom she holds communication. We
must afford her liberty, or it will be difficult to convict her. It is
a question for consideration whether we should assert the supremacy of
our ancient laws, and make an example of the vestal Coelia--there will
be no difficulty in proving that she has broken her vows--or whether the
time has arrived for assuming the masks we have designed, and at once
declaring ourselves convinced of the truth of the Christian doctrine."
"I dread the task we should impose on ourselves if we turn Christians,
and would therefore defer the day as long as possible," answered Gaius,
stretching himself on his couch.
"In that case the vestal Coelia must die," said Coecus, in a calm tone.
"We can have no half measures. If we do not swim with the tide, we must
stamp out this creed at once."
"No easy matter, considering, as I understand, that it has existed
well-nigh three hundred years, in spite of all the efforts made to
destroy it, since a certain Paul, a man of no mean ability, visited our
city on several occasions," observed Gaius. "Had our fathers known in
those days to what this doctrine was tending, they would have nipped it
in the bud, and we should have been saved a vast amount of trouble."
"It is useless regretting the past," said Coecus; "we must keep our eyes
steadily fixed on the future. But, I repeat, that I have no hope of
destroying the name of Christian."