THE MARTYRS CROWNED.
At a flourish of trumpets the iron-studded doors of the cells in which
the Christians were confined were thrown open, and the destined martyrs
walked forth on the arena in the sight of assembled thousands. It was a
spectacle to arrest the attention of even the most thoughtless, and to
move the sympathy of even the most austere. At the head of the little
company walked the good presbyter, Demetrius, his silvery hair and beard
and benignant expression of countenance giving him a strikingly
venerable aspect. Leaning heavily on his arm, evidently faint in frame
but strong in spirit, was his daughter Callirhoë. Robed in white, she
looked the embodiment of saintly purity, and in her eyes there beamed a
heroic courage which inspired a wonder that so brave a soul should be
shrined in so frail a body. Adauctus, Aurelius, and other Christian
confessors condemned to death, made up the little contingent of the
noble army of martyrs.
The prefect Naso, from his place in the tribune, near the Emperors, read
the sentence of the court, that the accused having been proven by ample
testimony to be the enemies of the Cæsars and of the gods, had been
condemned to death by exposure to wild beasts.
"Nay, not the enemies of the Cæsars," exclaimed the aged Demetrius. "We
are the friends of all, the enemies of none.[50] We pray for the Cæsars
at all our assemblies."
"Will you do homage to the gods?" demanded Diocletian. "Will you burn
incense to Neptune? Here is his altar and here are his priests."
"We worship the true God who made the heavens and the earth, the sea and
all that in them is," replied the venerable man, with uplifted and
reverent countenance, "and Him only will we serve. They be no gods which
are made by man's device, and 'tis idolatry to serve them."
"Away with the Atheists," cried the priests of Neptune; "they blaspheme
the holy gods."
"The Christians to the lions!" roared the mob, and at the signal from
the Emperor to the master of the games, the dens of the wild beasts were
thrown open, and the savage brutes, starved into madness, bounded into
the arena. The defenceless martyrs fell upon their knees in prayer, and
seemed conscious only of the presence of Him who stood with the three
Hebrews in the fiery furnace, so rapt was the expression of faith and
courage on their upturned faces.
The fierce Numidian lions, and tigers from the Libyan desert, instead of
bounding upon their prey, began to circle slowly around them, lashing
their tawny flanks meanwhile, glaring at their victims from bloodshot
fiery eyes, and uttering horrid growls.
At this moment a loud shout was heard, and a soldier, clad in burnished
mail, and with his drawn sword in his hand, one of the body guards of
the Emperors, leaped from the tribune and bounded with clashing armour
into the arena. Striding across the sand, he hurled aside his iron
helmet and his sword, and flung himself at the feet of the aged priest,
with the words:--
"Father, your blessing; Callirhoë, your parting kiss. I, too, am a
Christian. Long time have I sought you, alas! only to find you thus. But
gladly will I die with you, and, separated in life, we are united in
death and forever."
"_Nunc dimittis, Domine!_" exclaimed the old man, raising his eyes to
heaven. "'Now, Lord, lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.'" And he
laid his hands in blessing on the head of his long-lost son.
"Ezra, my brother!" exclaimed Callirhoë, folding him in her arms. "To
think we were so near, yet knew not of each other. Thank God, we go to
heaven together; and, long divided on earth, we shall soon, with our
beloved mother, be a united family forever in the skies. 'And God shall
wipe away all tears from our eyes; and there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain.'"
"Amen! even so, come, Lord Jesus!" spake the young soldier, as he
enfolded, as if in a sheltering embrace, the gray-haired sire and the
fair-faced girl.
The utmost consternation was exhibited on the countenance of the old
Emperor Diocletian. "What! have we Christians and traitors even in our
body guard? Our very life is at the mercy of those wretches!"
"I would feel safer with them," said the more stoical or more courageous
Galerius, "than with the _delators_ and informers who betray them," and
he glanced with mingled contempt and aversion at Naso, the prefect, and
Furca, the priest. "When a Christian gives his word, 'tis sacred as all
the oaths of Hecate. I want no better soldiers than those of the
Thundering Legion."[51]
Meanwhile the wild beasts, startled for a moment by the sudden
apparition of the mail-clad soldier, seemed roused thereby to ten-fold
fury. Crouching stealthily for the fatal spring, they bounded upon their
prey, and in a moment crashing bones and streaming gore appeased the
growing impatience of the cruel mob, who seemed, like the very wild
beasts, to hunger and thirst for human flesh and blood.
We dwell not on the painful spectacle. The gallant young soldier was the
first to die. The brave girl, with a gesture of maiden modesty, drew her
dishevelled robe about her person, and with a queenly dignity awaited
the wild beast's fatal spring. She was mercifully spared the spectacle
of her father's dying agony. Her over-strung nerves gave way, and she
fell in a swoon upon the sands. Demetrius met his fate praying upon his
knees. Like Stephen, he gazed steadfastly up into heaven, and the
fashion of his countenance was suddenly transfigured as he exclaimed:
"Lord Jesus! Rachel, my beloved! we come, we come." And above the roar
of the ribald mob and the growl of the savage beasts, fell sweetly on
his inner ear the song of the redeemed, and burst upon his sight the
beatific vision of the Lord he loved, and for whom he gladly died.
So, too, like brave men, victorious o'er their latest foe, Adauctus,
Aurelius, and the others calmly met their fate. When all the rest were
slain, a lordly lion approached the prostrate form of Callirhoë, but she
was already dead. She had passed from her swoon, without a pang, to the
marriage supper of the Lamb--to the presence of the Celestial
Bridegroom--the fairest among ten thousand, the one altogether
lovely--to whom the homage of her young heart had been fully given. She
was spared, too, the indignity, of being mangled by the lion's jaws.
When the king of beasts found that she was already dead, he raised his
massy head, gave a mournful howl, and strode haughtily away.
In the great gallery of Doré paintings at London, is one of this Flavian
Amphitheatre after a human sacrifice such as we have described. There
lie the mangled forms upon the gory and trampled sands. The sated wild
beasts prowl listlessly over the arena. The circling seats rise tier
above tier, empty and desolate. But poised in air, with outspread wings,
above the slain, with a countenance of light and a palm of victory, is a
majestic angel; and sweeping upward in serried ranks, amid the shining
stars, is a cloud of bright-winged angels, the convoy of the martyrs'
spirits to the skies. So, doubtless, God sent a cohort of sworded
seraphim to bear the martyrs of our story blessed company, and to sweep
with them through the gates into the city.
FOOTNOTES:
[50] This famous phrase dates from the time of Tertullian, in the 3rd
century, and is also recorded in the Catacombs.
[51] The _Legio Tonans_, tradition affirms, was a legion composed wholly
of Christians, whose prayers in a time of drought brought on a violent
thunder-storm, which confounded the enemy and saved the army.