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.
Determined to see all I could, and the last if it must be so, of this
undaunted spirit, I hastened at my utmost speed in the wake of the
flying troop. Little as I had heard or seen of this strange man, I had
become as deeply concerned in his fate as any could have been who had
known him more intimately, or believed both in him and with him. I know
not what it was, unless it were the signatures of sincerity, of
child-like sincerity and truth stamped upon him, that so drew me toward
him, together with that expression of profound sadness, or rather of
inward grief, which, wherever we see it and in whomsoever, excites our
curiosity and engages our sympathy. He was to me a man who deserved a
better fate than I feared he would meet. He seemed like one who, under
fortunate circumstances, might have been of the number of those great
spirits whose iron will and gigantic force of character bear down before
them all opposition, and yoke nations to their car. Of fear he evidently
had no comprehension whatever. The rustling of the autumn breeze in his
gown alarmed him as much, as did the clang of those horses' hoofs upon
the pavements, though he so well knew it was the precursor of suffering
and death.
With all the speed I could use I hurried to the hall of the Prefect. The
crowds were pouring in as I reached it, among whom I also rushed along
and up the flights of steps, anxious only to obtain an entrance and a
post of observation, whence I could see and hear what should take
place. I soon entered the room of justice. Varus was not yet in his
seat: but before it at some little distance stood Macer, his hands still
bound, and soldiers of the palace on either side.
I waited not long before Varus appeared at the tribunal; and following
him, and placed near him, Fronto, priest of the Temple of the Sun. Now,
poor Christian! I thought within myself, if it go not hard with thee it
will not be for want of those who wish thee ill. The very Satan of thy
own faith was never worse than these. Fronto's cruel eyes were fixed
upon him just as a hungry tiger's are upon the unconscious victim upon
whom he is about to spring. Varus seemed as if he sat in his place to
witness some holiday sport, drawing his box of perfume between his
fingers, or daintily adjusting the folds of his robe. When a few
preliminary formalities were gone through, Varus said, addressing one of
the officials of the place,
'Whom have we here?'
'Noble Prefect, Macer the Christian.'
'And why stands he at my tribunal?' continued Varus.
'For a breach of the late edict of the Emperor, by which the Christians
were forbidden to preach either within their temples or abroad in the
streets and squares.'
'Is that all?' asked the Prefect.
'Not only,' it was replied, 'hath he preached abroad in the streets, but
he hath cast signal contempt upon both the Emperor and the empire, in
that he hath but now torn down from its brazen frame the edict which he
had first violated, and scattered it in fragments upon the streets.'
'If these things are so, doubtless he hath well earned his death. How is
this, Galilean? dost thou confess these crimes, or shall I call in
other witnesses of thy guilt?'
'First,' replied Macer, 'will it please the Prefect to have these bonds
removed? For the sake of old fellowship let them be taken off, that,
while my tongue is free to speak, my hands may be free also. Else am I
not a whole man.'
'Unbind them,' said the Prefect; 'let him have his humor. Yet shall we
fit on other bracelets anon that may not sit so easy.'
'Be that as it may,' answered the Christian; 'in the meanwhile I would
stand thus. I thank thee for the grace.'
'Now, Christian, once more if thou art ready. Is it the truth that hath
been witnessed?'
'It is the truth,' replied Macer; 'and I thank God that it is so.'
'But knowest thou, Christian, that in saying that, thou hast condemned
thyself to instant death? Was not death the expressed penalty for
violation of that law?'
'Truly it was,' answered Macer; 'and what is death to me?'
'I suppose death to be death,' replied Varus.
'Therein thou showest thyself to be in the same darkness as all the rest
of this idolatrous city. Death to the Christian, Prefect, is life! Crush
me by thy engines, and in the twinkling of an eye is my soul dwelling
with God, and looking down with compassion upon thy stony heart.'
'Verily, Fronto,' said Varus, 'these Christians are an ingenious people.
What a wonderful fancy is this. But, Christian,' turning to Macer, 'it
were a pity surely for thee to die. Thou hast a family as I learn.
Would not thy life be more to them than thy death?'
'Less,' said the Christian, 'a thousand fold! were it not a better
vision to them of me crowned with a victor's wreath and sitting with
Christ, than dwelling here in this new Sodom, and drinking in its
pestilential air? The sight of me there would be to them a spring of
comfort and a source of strength which here I can never be.'
'But,' added the Prefect, 'it is but right that thou shouldst for the
present, if it may be, live here and take care of thy family. They will
want thee.'
'God,' replied Macer, 'who feeds the birds of the air, and through all
their wanderings over the earth from clime to clime still brings them
back to the accustomed home, will watch over those whom I love, and
bring them home. Such, Prefect, are the mercies of Rome toward us who
belong to Christ, that they will not be left long to bewail my loss.'
'Do thy family then hold with thee?' said Varus.
'Blessed be God, they do.'
'That is a pity--' responded the Prefect.
'Say not so, Varus; 'tis a joy and a triumph to me in this hour, and to
them, that they are Christ's.'
'Still,' rejoined the Prefect, 'I would willingly save thee, and make
thee live: and there is one way in which it may be done, and thou mayest
return in joy to thy home.'
'Let me then know it,' said Macer.
'Renounce Christ, Macer, and sacrifice; and thy life is thine, and honor
too.'
Macer's form seemed to dilate to more than its common size, his
countenance seemed bursting with expression as he said,
'Renounce Christ? save life by renouncing Christ? How little, Varus,
dost thou know what a Christian is! Not though I might sit in thy seat
or Aurelian's, or on the throne of a new universe, would I renounce him.
To Christ, Varus, do I owe it that I am not now what I was, when I dwelt
in the caves of the Flavian. To Christ do I owe it that I am not now
what I was when in the ranks of Aurelian. To Christ do I owe it that my
soul, once steeped in sin as thy robe in purple dye, is now by him
cleansed and, as I trust, thoroughly purged. To Christ do I owe it that
once worshipping the dumb idols of Roman superstition, I now bow down to
the only living God--' 'Away with him to the tormentors!' came from an
hundred voices--'to Christ do I owe it, O Prefect, that my heart is not
now as thine, or his who sits beside thee, or as that of these,
hungering and thirsting--never after righteousness--but for the blood of
the innocent. Shall I then renounce Christ? and then worship that
ancient adulterer, Jupiter greatest and best?--' The hall here rang with
the ferocious cries of those who shouted--
'Give him over to us!'--'To the rack with him!'--'Tear out the tongue of
the blaspheming Galilean!'
'Romans,' cried Varus, rising from his chair, 'let not your zeal for the
gods cause you to violate the sanctity of this room of Justice. Fear not
but Varus, who, as you well know, is a lover of the gods, his country,
and the city, will well defend their rights and honors against whoever
shall assail them.'
He then turned to Macer and said,
'I should ill perform my duty to thee, Christian, did I spare any effort
to bring thee to a better mind--ill should I perform it for Rome did I
not use all the means by the State entrusted to me to save her citizens
from errors that, once taking root and growing up to their proper
height, would soon overshadow, and by their poisonous neighborhood kill,
that faith venerable through a thousand years, and of all we now inherit
from our ancestors of greatest and best, the fruitful and divine
spring.'
'There, Romans, spoke a Roman,' exclaimed Fronto.
As Varus ended--at a sign and a word from him, what seemed the solid
wall of the room in which we were, suddenly flew up upon its screaming
pulleys, and revealed another apartment black as night, save here and
there where a dull torch shed just light enough to show its great
extent, and set in horrid array before us, engines of every kind for
tormenting criminals, each attended by its half-naked minister, ready at
a moment's warning to bind the victim, and put in motion the infernal
machinery. At this sight a sudden faintness overspread my limbs, and I
would willingly have rushed from the hall--but it was then made
impossible. And immediately the voice of the Prefect was again heard:
'Again, Christian, with Rome's usual mercy, I freely offer to thee thy
life, simply on the condition, easily fulfilled by thee, for it asks but
one little word from thy lips, that thou do, for thy own sake and for
the sake of Rome, which thou sayest thou lovest, renounce Christ and thy
faith.'
'I have answered thee once, O Prefect; dost thou think so meanly of me
as to suppose that what but now I affirmed, I will now deny, and only
for this show of iron toys and human demons set to play them? It is not
of such stuff Aurelian's men are made, much less the soldiers of the
cross. For the love I bear to Rome and Christ, and even thee, Varus, I
choose to die.'
'Be assured, Christian, I will not spare thee.'
'I ask it not, Prefect--do thy worst--and the worst is but death, which
is life.'
'Pangs that shall keep thee hours dying,' cried the Prefect--'thy body
racked and rent--torn piecemeal one part from another--this is worse
than death. Bethink thee well. Do not believe that Varus will relent.'
'That were the last thing to find faith with one who knows him as well
as Macer does,' replied the Christian.
A flush of passion passed over the face of Varus. But he proceeded in
the same even tone,
'Is thy election made, Macer?'
'It is made.'
'Slaves,' cried the Prefect, 'away with him to the rack, and ply it
well.'
'Yes,' repeated Pronto, springing with eager haste from his seat, that
he might lose nothing of what was to be seen or heard, 'away with him to
the rack, and ply it well.'
Unmoved and unresisting, his face neither pale nor his limbs trembling,
did Macer surrender himself into the hands of those horrid ministers of
a cruel and bloody faith, who then hastily approached him, and seizing
him dragged him toward their worse than hell. Accomplished in their art,
for every day is it put to use, Macer was in a moment thrown down and
lashed to the iron bars; when, each demon having completed the
preparation, he stood leaning upon his wheel for a last sign from the
Prefect. It was instantly given, and while the breath even of every
being in the vast hall was suspended, through an intense interest in the
scene, the creating of the engine, as it began to turn, sounded upon the
brain like thunder. Not a groan nor a sigh was heard from the sufferer.
The engine turned till it seemed as if any body or substance laid upon
it must have been wrenched asunder. Then it stopt. And the minutes
counted to me like hours or ages ere the word was given, and the wheels
unrestrained flew back again to their places. Macer was then unbound. He
at first lay where he was thrown upon the pavement. But his life was yet
strong within his iron frame. He rose at length upon his feet, and was
again led to the presence of his judges. His eye had lost nothing of its
wild fire, nor his air any thing of its lofty independence.
Varus again addressed him.
'Christian, you have felt what there is in Roman justice. Reject not
again what Roman mercy again offers thee--life freely, honor too, and
office, if thou wilt return once more to the bosom of the fond mother
who reared thee.'
'Yes,' said Fronto, 'thy mother who reared thee! Die not with the double
guilt of apostacy and ingratitude upon thy soul.'
'Varus,' said Macer, 'art thou a fool, a very fool, to deem that thy
word can weigh more with me than Christ? Make not thyself a
laughingstock to me and such Christians as may be here. The torments of
thy importunity are worse to me than those of thy engines.'
'I wish thee well, Macer; 'tis that which makes me thus a fool,'
'So, Varus, does Satan wish his victim well, to whom he offers his
luscious baits. But what is it when the bait is swallowed, and hell is
all that has been gained? What should I gain, but to live with thee, O
greater fool?'
'Think, Macer, of thy wife and children.'
At those names, Macer bent his head and folded his hands upon his
breast, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Till then there had been, as
it seemed, a blessed forgetfulness of all but himself and the scene
before him. Varus, misinterpreting this his silence, and taking it for
the first sign of repentance, hastily cried out,
'There is the altar, Macer.--Slave! hold to him the sacred libation; he
will now pour it out.'
Instantly a slave held out to him a silver ladle filled with wine.
Macer at the same instant struck it with his sinewy arm and sent it
whirling to the ceiling.
'Bind him again to the rack,' cried the Prefect, leaping from his seat;
'and let him have it till the nerves break.'
Macer was again seized and stretched upon the iron bed--this time upon
another, of different construction, and greater power. Again the
infernal machine was worked by the naked slaves, and, as it was wound
up, inflicting all that it was capable of doing without absolutely
destroying life, groans and screams of fierce agony broke from the
suffering Christian. How long our ears were assailed by those terrific
cries, I cannot say. They presently died away, as I doubted not, only
because Macer himself had expired under the torment. When they had
wholly ceased, the engine was reversed and Macer again unbound. He fell
lifeless upon the floor. Varus, who had sat the while conversing with
Fronto, now said,
'Revive him, and return him hither.'
Water was then thrown upon him, and powerful drinks were forced down his
throat. They produced in a little while their intended effect, and Macer
gave signs of returning life. He presently gazed wildly around him, and
came gradually to a consciousness of where and what he was. His limbs
refused their office, and he was supported and partly lifted to the
presence of Varus.
'Now, Galilean,' cried Varus, 'again, how is it with thee?'
'Better than with thee, I trust in God.'
'Wilt thou now sacrifice?'
'I am myself, O Varus, this moment a sacrifice, well pleasing and
acceptable to the God whom I worship, and the Master whom I serve.'
'Why, Varus,' said Fronto, 'do we bear longer his insults and impieties?
Let me strike him dead.' And he moved his hand as if to grasp a
concealed weapon, with which to do it.
'Nay, nay, hold, Fronto! let naught be done in haste or passion, nor in
violation of the law, but all calmly and in order. We act for those who
are not present as well as for ourselves.'
A voice from a dark extremity of the room shouted out,
'It is Macer, O Prefect, who acts for us.'
The face of Macer brightened up, as if he had suddenly been encompassed
by a legion of friends. It was the first token he had received, that so
much as one heart in the whole assembly was beating with his. He looked
instantly to the quarter whence the voice came, and then, turning to the
Prefect, said,
'Yes, Varus, I am now and here preaching to the people of Rome, though
I speak never a word. 'Tis a sermon that will fall deeper into the heart
than ten thousand spoken ones.'
The Prefect commanded that he who had spoken should be brought before
him. But upon the most diligent search he could not be found.
'Christian,' said Varus, 'I have other pains in store, to which what
thou hast as yet suffered is but as the scratching of the lion's paw. It
were better not to suffer them. They will leave no life in thee. Curse
Christ--'tis but a word--and live.'
Macer bent his piercing eye upon the Prefect, but answered not.
'Curse Christ, and live.'
Macer was still silent.
'Bring in then,' cried the Prefect, 'your pincers, rakes and shells; and
we will see what they may have virtue to bring forth.'
The black messengers of death hastened at the word from their dark
recesses, loaded with those new instruments of torture, and stood around
the miserable man.
'Now, Macer,' said Varus once more, 'acknowledge Jupiter Greatest and
Best, and thou shalt live.'
Macer turned round to the people, and with his utmost voice cried out,
'There is, O Romans, but One God; and the God of Christ is he--'
No sooner had he uttered those words than Fronto exclaimed,
'Ah! hah! I have found thee then! This is the voice, thrice accursed!
that came from the sacred Temple of the Sun! This, Romans, is the god
whose thunder turned you pale.'