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.'