spoke, but retaining his courteous bearing, 'yet methinks, seeing this
doctrine is so bewitching, and is withal a heaven-inspired wisdom, the
God working behind it and urging it on, it moves onward with a pace
something of the slowest. Within a few of three hundred years has it
appealed to the human race, and appealed in vain. The feeblest and the
worst of mankind have had power almost to annihilate it, and more than
once has it seemed scarce to retain its life. Would it have been so, had
it been in reality what you claim for it, of divine birth? Would the
gods suffer their schemes for man's good to be so thwarted, and driven
aside by man? What was this boasted faith doing during the long and
peaceful reigns of Hadrian, and the first Antonine? The sword of
persecution was then sheathed, or if it fell at all, it was but on a
few. So too under Vespasian, Titus, Nerva, Commodus, Severus,
Heliogabalus, the Philips, Gallienus, and Claudius?'
'That is well said,' a Roman voice added, of one standing by the side of
Varus, 'and is a general wonder.'
'I marvel it should be a wonder,' rejoined Probus. 'Can you pour into a
full measure? Must it not be first emptied? Who, Varus, let him try as
he may, could plant the doctrine of Christ in thy heart? Could I do it,
think you?--or Piso?'
'I trow not.'
'And why, I pray you?'
'It is not hard to guess.'
'Is it not because you are already full of contrary notions, to which
you cling tenaciously, and from which, perhaps, no human force could
drag you? But yours is a type of every other Roman mind to which
Christianity has been offered. If you receive it not at once, should
others? Suppose the soul to be full of sincere convictions as to the
popular faith, can the gospel easily enter there? Suppose it skeptical,
as to all spiritual truth; can it enter there? Suppose it polluted by
vice can it easily enter there? Suppose it like the soul of
Fronto,----'
'Hush! hush!' said several voices. Probus heeded them not.
'Suppose it like the soul of Pronto, could it enter there? See you not
then, by knowing your own hearts, what time it must demand for a new,
and specially a strict doctrine, to make its way into the minds of men?
'Tis not easier to bore a rock with one's finger, than to penetrate a
heart hardened by sin or swelled with prejudice and pride. And if we
say, Varus, this was a work for the God to do--that he who originated
the faith should propagate it--I answer, that would not be like the
other dealings of the divine power. He furnishes you with earth and
seed, but he ploughs not for you, nor plants, nor reaps. He gives you
reason, but he pours not knowledge into your mind. So he offers truth;
but that is all. He compels no assent; he forces no belief. All is
voluntary and free. How then can the march of truth be otherwise than
slow? Truth, being the greatest thing below, resembles in its port the
motion of the stars, which are the greatest things above. But like
theirs, if slow, it is ever sure and onward.'
'The stars set in night.'
'But they rise again. Truth is eclipsed often, and it sets for a night;
but never is turned aside from its eternal path.'
'Never, Publius,' said the Prefect, adjusting his gown, and with the act
filling the air with perfume 'never did I think to find myself within a
Christian church. Your shop possesses many virtues. It is a place to be
instructed in.' Then turning to Probus, he soothingly and in persuasive
tones, added, 'Be advised now, good friend, and leave off thy office of
teacher. Rome can well spare thee. Take the judgment of others; we need
not thy doctrine. Let that alone which is well established and secure.
Spare these institutions, venerable through a thousand years. Leave
changes to the gods.'
Probus was about to reply, when we were strangely interrupted. While we
had been conversing, there stood before me, in the midst of the floor of
the apartment, a man, whose figure, face, and demeanor were such that I
hardly could withdraw my eye from him. He was tall and gaunt, beyond all
I ever saw, and erect as a Prætorian in the ranks. His face was strongly
Roman, thin and bony, with sunken cheeks, a brown and wrinkled skin--not
through age, but exposure--and eyes more wild and fiery than ever glared
in the head of Hun or hyena. He seemed a living fire-brand of death and
ruin. As we talked, he stood there motionless, sometimes casting glances
at our group, but more frequently fixing them upon a roll which he held
in his hands.
As Varus uttered the last words, this man suddenly left his post, and
reaching us with two or three strides, shook his long finger at Varus,
saying, at the same time,
'Hold, blasphemer!'
The Prefect started as if struck, and gazing a moment with unfeigned
amazement at the figure, then immediately burst into a laugh, crying
out,
'Ha! ha! Who in the name of Hecate have we here? Ha! ha!--he seems just
escaped from the Vivaria.'
'Thy laugh,' said the figure, 'is the music of a sick and dying soul. It
is a rebel's insult against the majesty of Heaven; ay, laugh on! That is
what the devils do; it is the merriment of hell. What time they burn
not, they laugh. But enough. Hold now thy scoffing, Prefect Varus, for,
high as thou art, I fear thee not: no! not wert thou twice Aurelian,
instead of Varus. I have somewhat for thee. Wilt hear it?'
'With delight, Bubo. Say on.'
'It was thy word just now, 'Rome needs not this doctrine,' was it not?'
'If I said it not, it is a good saying, and I will father it.'
''Rome needs not this doctrine; she is well enough; let her alone!'
These were thy words. Need not, Varus, the streets of Rome a cleansing
river to purify them? Dost thou think them well enough, till all the
fountains have been let loose to purge them? Is Tarquin's sewer a place
to dwell in? Could all the waters of Rome sweeten it? The people of Rome
are fouler than her highways. The sewers are sweeter than the very
worshippers of our temples. Thou knowest somewhat of this. Wast ever
present at the rites of Bacchus?--or those of the Cyprian goddess? Nay,
blush not yet. Didst ever hear of the gladiator Pollex?--of the woman
Cæcina?--of the boy Lælius, and the fair girl Fannia--proffered and sold
by the parents, Pollex and Cæcina, to the loose pleasures of Gallienus?
Now I give thee leave to blush! Is it nought that the one half of Rome
is sunk in a sensuality, a beastly drunkenness and lust, fouler than
that of old, which, in Judea, called down the fiery vengeance of the
insulted heavens? Thou knowest well, both from early experience and
because of thy office, what the purlieus of the theatres are, and places
worse than those, and which to name were an offence. But to you they
need not be named. Is all this, Varus, well enough? Is this that
venerable order thou wouldst not have disturbed? Is that to be charged
as impiety and atheism, which aims to change and reform it? Are they
conspirators, and rebels, and traitors, whose sole office and labor is
to mend these degenerate morals, to heal these corrupting sores, to pour
a better life into the rotting carcass of this guilty city? Is it for
our pastime, or our profit, that we go about this always dangerous work?
Is it a pleasure to hear the gibes, jests, and jeers of the streets and
the places of public resort? Will you not believe that it is for some
great end that we do and bear as thou seest--even the redemption, and
purifying, and saving of Rome? I love Rome, even as a mother, and for
her am ready to die. I have bled for her freely in battle, in Gaul, upon
the Danube, in Asia, and in Egypt. I am willing to bleed for her at
home, even unto death, if that blood might, through the blessing of God,
be a stream to cleanse her putrifying members. But O, holy Jesus! why
waste I words upon one whose heart is harder than the nether millstone!
Thou preachedst not to Pilate, nor didst thou work thy wonders for
Herod. Varus, beware!'
And with these words, uttered with a wild and threatening air, he
abruptly turned away, and was lost in the crowds of the street.
While he raved, the Prefect maintained the same unruffled demeanor as
before. His customary smile played around his mouth, a smile like no
other I ever saw. To a casual observer, it would seem like every other
smile, but to one who watches him, it is evident that it denotes no
hilarity of heart, for the eyes accompany it not with a corresponding
expression, but on the contrary, look forth from their beautiful
cavities with glances that speak of anything rather than of peace and
good-will. So soon as the strange being who had been declaiming had
disappeared, the Prefect, turning to me, as he drew up his gown around
him, said,
'I give you joy, Piso, of your coadjutor. A few more of the same
fashion, and Rome is safe.' And saluting us with urbanity, he sallied
from the shop.
I had been too much amazed, myself, during this scene, to do anything
else than stand still, and listen, and observe. As for Probus, I saw him
to be greatly moved, and give signs of even deep distress. He evidently
knew who the person was--as I saw him make more than one ineffectual
effort to arrest him in his harangue--and as evidently held him in
respect, seeing he abstained from all interruption of a speech that he
felt to be provoking wantonly the passions of the Prefect, and of many
who stood around, from whom, so soon as the man of authority had
withdrawn, angry words broke forth abundantly.
'Well did the noble Prefect say, that that wild animal had come forth
like a half-famished tiger from the Vivaria,' said one.
'It is singular,' observed another, 'that a man who pretends to reform
the state, should think to do it by first putting it into a rage with
him, and all he utters.'
'Especially singular,' added a third, 'that the advocate of a religion
that, as I hear, condemns violence, and consists in the strictness with
which the passions are governed, should suppose that he was doing any
other work than entering a breach in his own citadel, by such ferocity.
But it is quite possible his wits are touched.'
'No, I presume not,' said the first; 'this is a kind of zeal which, if I
have observed aright, the Christians hold in esteem.'
As these separated to distant parts of the shop, I said to Probus, who
seemed heavily oppressed by what had occurred, 'What dæmon dwells in
that body that has just departed?'
'Well do you say dæmon. The better mind of that man seems oft-times
seized upon by some foul spirit, and bound--which then acts and speaks
in its room. But do you not know him?'
'No, truly; he is a stranger to me, as he appears to be to all.'
'Nevertheless, you have been in his company. You forget not the
Mediterranean voyage?'
'By no means. I enjoyed it highly, and recall it ever with delight.'
'Do you not remember, at the time I narrated to you the brief story of
my life, that, as I ended, a rough voice from among the soldiers
exclaimed, 'Where now are the gods of Rome?' This is that man, the
soldier Macer; then bound with fellow soldiers to the service in Africa,
now a Christian preacher.'
'I see it now. That man impressed me then with his thin form and
all-devouring eyes. But the African climate, and the gash across his
left cheek, and which seems to have slightly disturbed the eye upon that
side, have made him a different being, and almost a terrific one. Is he
sound and sane?'
'Perfectly so,' replied Probus, 'unless we may say that souls earnestly
devoted and zealous, are mad. There is not a more righteous soul in
Rome. His conscience is bare, and shrinking like a fresh wound. His
breast is warm and fond as a woman's--his penitence for the wild errors
of his pagan youth, a consuming fire, which, while it redoubles his
ardor in doing what he may in the cause of truth, rages in secret, and,
if the sword or the cross claim him not, will bring him to the grave. He
is utterly incapable of fear. All the racks and dungeons of Rome, with
their tormentors, could not terrify him.'
'You now interest me in him. I must see and know him. It might be of
service to him and to all, Probus, methinks, if he could be brought to
associate with those whose juster notions might influence his, and
modify them to the rule of truth.'
'I fear not. What he sees, he sees clearly and strongly, and by itself.
He understands nothing of one truth bearing upon another, and adding to
it, or taking from it. Truth is truth with him--and as his own mind
perceives it--not another's. His conscience will allow him in no
accommodations to other men's opinions or wishes; with him, right is
right, wrong is wrong. He is impatient under an argument as a war-horse
under the rein after the trumpet sounds. It is unavoidable therefore
but he should possess great power among the Christians of Rome. His are
the bold and decisive qualities that strike the common mind. There is
glory and applause in following and enduring under such a leader. Many
are fain to believe him divinely illuminated and impelled, to unite the
characters of teacher and prophet; and from knowing that he is so
regarded by others, Macer has come almost to believe it himself. He is
tending more and more to construe every impulse of his own mind into a
divine suggestion, and I believe honestly experiences difficulty in
discriminating between them. Still, I do not deny that it would be of
advantage for him more and more to come in contact with sober and
enlightened minds. I shall take pleasure, at some fitting moment, to
accompany you to his humble dwelling; the rather as I would show you
also his wife and children, all of whom are like himself Christians.'
'I shall not forget the promise.'
Whereupon we separated.
I then searched for Publius, and making my purchases, returned home,
Milo following with the books.
As Milo relieved himself of his burden, discharging it upon the floor of
the library, I overheard him to say,
'Lie there, accursed rolls! May the flames consume you, ere you are
again upon my shoulders! For none but Piso would I have done what I
have. Let me to the temple and expiate.'
'What words are these?' cried Solon, emerging suddenly at the sound from
a recess. 'Who dares to heap curses upon books, which are the soul
embalmed and made imperishable? What have we here? Aha! a new treasure
for these vacant shelves, and most trimly ordered.'
'These, venerable Greek,' exclaimed Milo, waving him away, 'are books of
magic! oriental magic! Have a care! A touch may be fatal! Our noble
master affects the Egyptians.'
'Magic!' exclaimed Solon, with supreme contempt; 'art thou so idiotic as
to put credence in such fancies? Away!--hinder me not!' And saying so,
he eagerly grasped a volume, and unrolling it, to the beginning of the
work, dropped it suddenly, as if bitten by a serpent.
'Ha!' cried Milo, 'said I not so? Art thou so idiotic, learned Solon, as
to believe in such fancies? How is it with thee? Is thy blood hot or
cold?--thy teeth loose or fast?--thy arm withered or swollen?'
Solon stood surveying the pile, with a look partly of anger, partly of
sorrow.
'Neither, fool!' he replied. 'These possess not the power nor worth
fabled of magic. They are books of dreams, visions, reveries, which are
to the mind what fogs would be for food, and air for drink, innutritive
and vain. Papias!--Irenæus!--Hegesippus!--Polycarp!--Origen!--whose
names are these, and to whom familiar? Some are Greek, some are Latin,
but not a name famous in the world meets my eye. But we will order them
on their shelves, and trust that time, which accomplishes all things,
will restore reason to Piso. Milo, essay thy strength--my limbs are
feeble--and lift these upon yonder marble; so may age deal gently with
thee.'
'Not for their weight in wisdom, Solon, would I again touch them. I have
borne them hither, and if the priests speak truly, my life is worth not
an obolus. I were mad to tempt my fate farther.'
'Avaunt thee, then, for a fool and a slave, as thou art!'
'Nay now, master Solon, thy own wisdom forsakes thee. Philosophers, they
say, are ever possessors of themselves, though for the rest they be
beggars.'
'Beggar! sayest thou? Avaunt! I say, or Papias shall teach thee'--and he
would have launched the roll at the head of Milo, but that, with quick
instincts, he shot from the apartment, and left the pedagogue to do his
own bidding.
So, Fausta, you see that Solon is still the irritable old man he was,
and Milo the fool he was. Think not me worse than either, for hoping so
to entertain you. I know that in your solitude and grief, even such
pictures may be welcome.
When I related to Julia the scene and the conversation at the shop of
Publius, she listened not without agitation, and expresses her fears
lest such extravagances, repeated and become common, should inflame the
minds both of the people and their rulers against the Christians. Though
I agree with her in lamenting the excess of zeal displayed by many of
the Christians, and their needless assaults upon the characters and
faith of their opposers, I cannot apprehend serious consequences from
them, because the instances of it are so few and rare, and are palpable
exceptions to the general character which I believe the whole city would
unite in ascribing to this people. Their mildness and pacific temper
are perhaps the very traits by which they are most distinguished, with
which they are indeed continually reproached. Yet individual acts are
often the remote causes of vast universal evil--of bloodshed, war, and
revolution. Macer alone is enough to set on fire a city, a continent, a
world.
I rejoice, I cannot tell you how sincerely, in all your progress. I do
not doubt in the ultimate return of the city to its former populousness
and wealth, at least. Aurelian has done well for you at last. His
disbursements for the Temple of the Sun alone are vast, and must be more
than equal to its perfect restoration. Yet his overthrown column you
will scarce be tempted to rebuild. Forget not to assure Gracchus and
Calpurnius of my affection. Farewell.
LETTER III.
FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.
You are right, Fausta, in your unfavorable judgment of the Roman
populace. The Romans are not a people one would select to whom to
propose a religion like this of Christianity. All causes seem to combine
to injure and corrupt them. They are too rich. The wealth of subject
kingdoms and provinces finds its way to Rome; and not only in the form
of tribute to the treasury of the empire, but in that of the private
fortunes amassed by such as have held offices in them for a few years,
and who then return to the capital to dissipate in extravagance and
luxuries, unknown to other parts of the world, the riches wrung by
violence, injustice, and avarice from the wretched inhabitants whom
fortune had delivered into their power. Yes, the wealth of Rome is
accumulated in such masses, not through the channels of industry or
commerce; it arrives in bales and ship-loads, drained from foreign lands
by the hand of extortion. The palaces are not to be numbered, built and
adorned in a manner surpassing those of the monarchs of other nations,
which are the private residences of those, or of the descendants of
those who for a few years have presided over some distant province, but
in that brief time, Verres-like, have used their opportunities so well
as to return home oppressed with a wealth which life proves not long
enough to spend, notwithstanding the aid of dissolute and spendthrift
sons. Here have we a single source of evil equal to the ruin of any
people. The morals of no community could be protected against such odds.
It is a mountain torrent tearing its way through the fields of the
husbandman, whose trees and plants possess no strength of branch or root
to resist the inundation.
Then in addition to all this, there are the largesses of the Emperor,
not only to his armies, but to all the citizens of Rome; which are now
so much a matter of expectation, that rebellions I believe would ensue
were they not bestowed. Aurelian, before his expedition to Asia,
promised to every citizen a couple of crowns--he has redeemed the
promise by the distribution, not of money but of bread, two loaves to
each, with the figure of a crown stamped upon them. Besides this, there
has been an allowance of meat and pork--so much to all the lower orders.
He even contemplated the addition of wine to the list, but was hindered
by the judicious suggestion of his friend and general, Mucapor, that if
he provided wine and pork, he would next be obliged to furnish them
fowls also, or public tumults might break out. This recalled him to his
senses. Still however only in part, for the other grants have not been
withdrawn. In this manner is this whole population supported in
idleness. Labor is confined to the slaves. The poor feed upon the
bounties of the Emperor, and the wealth so abundantly lavished by
senators, nobles, and the retired proconsuls. Their sole employment is,
to wait upon the pleasure of their many masters, serve them as they are
ready enough to do, in the toils and preparations of luxury, and what
time they are not thus occupied, pass the remainder of their hours at
the theatres, at the circuses, at games of a thousand kinds, or in noisy
groups at the corners of the streets and in the market-places.
It is become a state necessity to provide amusements for the populace in
order to be safe against their violence. The theatres, the baths, with
their ample provisions for passing away time in some indolent amusement
or active game, are always open and always crowded. Public or funeral
games are also in progress without intermission in different parts of
the capital. Those instituted in honor of the gods, and which make a
part of the very religion of the people are seldom suspended for even a
day. At one temple or another, in this grove or that, within or without
the walls, are these lovers of pleasure entertained by shows,
processions, music, and sacrifices. And as if these were not enough, or
when they perchance fail for a moment, and the sovereign people are
listless and dull, the Flavian is thrown open by the imperial command,
the Vivaria vomit forth their maddened and howling tenants either to
destroy each other, or dye the dust of the arena with the blood of
gladiators, criminals, or captives. These are the great days of the
Roman people; these their favorite pleasures. The cry through the
streets in the morning of even women and boys, 'Fifty captives to-day
for the lions in the Flavian,' together with the more solemn
announcement of the same by the public heralds, and by painted bills at
the corners of the streets, and on the public baths, is sure to throw
the city into a fever of excitement, and rivet by a new bond the
affections of this blood-thirsty people to their indulgent Emperor.
Hardly has the floor of the amphitheatre been renewed since the
cessation of the triumphal games of Aurelian, before it is again to be
soaked with blood in honor of Apollo, whose magnificent temple is within
a few days to be dedicated.
Never before I believe was there a city whose inhabitants so many and so
powerful causes conspired to corrupt and morally destroy. Were I to give
you a picture of the vices of Rome, it would be too dark and foul a one
for your eye to read, but not darker nor fouler than you will suppose it
must necessarily be to agree with what I have already said. Where there
is so little industry and so much pleasure, the vices will flourish and
shoot up to their most gigantic growth. Not in the days of Nero were
they more luxuriant than now. Aurelian, in the first year of his reign,
laid upon them a severe but useful restraint, and they were checked for
a time. But since he has himself departed from the simplicity and rigor
of that early day, and actually or virtually repealed the laws which
then were promulgated for the reformation of the city in its manners,
the people have also relapsed, and the ancient excesses are renewed.