is now crowning her seven hills with a greater glory than ever yet has
rested on them. Let her see that her great son can finish what has been
so well begun.'
'Fronto, I say it, but I say it with some inward pain, that were it
plain the will of the gods were so--'
'Piso should die!' eagerly interrupted the priest.
'I will not say it yet, Fronto.'
'I see not why Aurelian should stagger at it. If the will of the gods
is in this whole enterprise; if they will that these hundreds and
thousands, these crowds of young and old, little children and tender
youth, should all perish, that posterity by such sacrifice now in the
beginning may be delivered from the curse that were else entailed upon
them, then who can doubt, to whom truth is the chief thing, that they
will, nay, and ordain in their sacred breasts, that he who is their
chief and head, about whom others cluster, from whose station and power
they daily draw fresh supplies of courage, should perish too; nay, that
he should be the first great offering, that so, the multitudes who stay
their weak faith on him, may, on his loss, turn again unharmed to their
ancient faith. That too, were the truest mercy.'
'There may be something in that, Fronto. Nevertheless, I do not yet see
so much to rest upon one life. If all the rest were dead, and but one
alive, and he Piso, I see not but the work were done.'
'A thousand were better left, Aurelian, than Piso and the lady Julia!
They are more in the ears and eyes of Rome than all the preachers of
this accursed tribe. They are preaching, not on their holydays to a mob
of beggarly knaves, men and women dragged up by their hot and zealous
caterers from the lanes and kennels of the city, within the walls of
their filthy synagogues, but they preach every day, to the very princes
and nobles of the state--at the capitol to the Senate--here in thy
palaces to all the greatest and best of Rome and, by the gods! as I
believe, make more converts to their impieties than all the army of
their atheistical priesthood. Upon Probus, Piso, and Julia, hang the
Christians of Rome. Hew them away, end the branches die. Probus, ere
tomorrow's sun is set, feeds the beasts of the Flavian--then--'
'Hold, Fronto! I will no more of it now. I have, besides, assured Piso
of his safety.'
'There is no virtue like that of those, who, having erred, repent.'
Aurelian looked for the moment as if he would willingly have hurled
Fronto, and his temple after him, to Tartarus. But the bold man heeded
him not.
'Shall I,' he continued, 'say what it is that thus ties the hands of the
conqueror of the world?'
'Say what thou wilt.'
'Rome says, I say it not--but Rome says, 'tis love.'
'What mean they? I take you not. Love?'
'Of the princess Julia, still so called.'
A deep blush burned upon the cheek of Aurelian. He paused a moment, as
if for some storm within to subside. He then said, in his deep tone,
that indicates the presence of the whole soul--but without passion--
'Fronto, 'tis partly true--truer than I wish it were. When in Syria my
eye first beheld her, I loved her--as I never loved before, and never
shall again. But not for the Emperor of the world would she part from
young Piso. I sued, as man never sued before, but all in vain. Her image
still haunts the chambers of my brain; yet, with truth do I say it, but
as some pure vision sent from the gods. I confess, Fronto, it is she who
stands between me and the will of Heaven. I know not what force, but
that of all the gods, could make me harm her. To no other ear has this
ever been revealed. She is to me god and goddess.'
'Now, Aurelian, that thou has spoken in the fullness of thy heart, do I
hold thee redeemed from the invisible tyrant. In our own hearts we sin
and err, as we dare not when the covering is off, and others can look in
and see how weak we are. Thou canst not, great Cæsar, for this fondness
forget and put far from thee the vision of thy mother, whom, in dreams
or in substantial shape, the gods sent down to revive thy fainting zeal!
Let it not be that that call shall have been in vain.'
'Fronto, urge now no more. Hast thou seen Varus?'
'I have.'
'Are the edicts ready?'
'They are.'
'Again then at the hour of noon let them glare forth upon the enemies of
Rome from the columns of the capitol. Let Varus be so instructed. Now I
would be alone.'
Whereupon the priest withdrew, and I also rose from where I had sat, to
take my leave, when the Emperor said,
'This seems harsh to thee, Nicomachus?'
'I cannot but pray the gods,' I said, 'to change the mind of Aurelian!'
'They have made his mind what it is, Nicomachus.'
'Not they,' I said, 'but Fronto.'
'But,' he quickly added, 'the gods made Fronto, and have put their mind
in him, or it has never been known on earth. You know not the worth,
Greek, of this man. Had Rome possessed such a one two hundred years ago,
this work had not now to be done.'
Saying which, he withdrew into his inner apartment, and I sought again
the presence of Livia.
LETTER XI.
FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.
A day has passed, Fausta, since the hearing of Probus, and I hasten to
inform you of its events.
But, first of all, before I enter upon the dark chapter of our
calamities, let me cheer you and myself by dwelling a moment upon one
bright and sunny spot. Early in the day we were informed that Isaac was
desirous to see us. He was at once admitted. As he entered, it was easy
to see that some great good fortune had befallen him. His face shone
through the effect of some inward joy, and his eyes sparkled in their
deep sockets like burning tapers. When our customary salutations and
inquiries were over, Julia said to him,
'I think, Isaac, you must have sold a jewel this morning to no less a
person than Aurelian, if the face may be held as an index of good or
evil fortune.'
'I have parted with no jewel, lady,' he replied, 'but there has fallen
into my hands a diamond of inestimable value, drawn from those mines of
the Orient, which I may say, not all the wealth of Aurelian could
purchase of me. Whenever I shall receive such permission, it will give
me highest delight to show it to thee.'
'Only a single jewel, Isaac?' said Julia. 'Is it but one stone that so
transports thee, and makes thy face that of a young man?'
'Lady, to confess the truth, there are four--four living stories and
precious--more precious than any that of old blazed upon the breastplate
of our high-priest Princess, I have come to tell thee and Piso what none
in Rome besides, as I think, would care to know--and strange it is that
you Christians should be those whom I, a Jew, most love, and that I, an
old and worn-out man, should fill any space, were it no bigger than a
grain of wheat, in your regards--I have come to tell you what you have
already discovered, that Hagar is arrived with the young Ishmael, and
with them two dark-eyed daughters of Israel, who are as welcome as the
others. There is not now, Piso, within the walls of Rome a dwelling
happier than mine. Soon as leisure and inclination shall serve, come, if
you will do us such grace, to the street Janus, and behold our
contentment. Sorry am I that the times come laden to you with so many
terrors. Piso,' continued he, in a more earnest tone, and bending toward
me, 'rely upon the word of one who is rarely deceived, and who now tells
thee, there is a sword hanging over thy head! Fronto thirsts for thy
life, and thine, lady! and Aurelian, much as he may love you, is, as we
have already seen, not proof against the violent zeal of the priest.
Come to the street Janus, and I will warrant you safety and life. There
is none for you here--nor in Rome--if Aurelian's hounds can scent you.'
We were again obliged to state, with all the force we could give to
them, the reasons which bound us to remain, not only in Rome, but in our
own dwelling, and await whatever the times might bring forth. He was
again slow to be convinced, so earnestly does he desire our safety. But
at length he was persuaded that he himself would take the same course
were he called upon to defend the religion of his fathers. He then
departed, having first exacted a promise that we would soon see his new
family.
Soon as Isaac was gone I sought the streets.
Rome, Fausta, has put on the appearance of the Saturnalia. Although no
license of destruction has yet been publicly given, the whole city is in
commotion--the lower orders noisy and turbulent, as if they had already
received their commission of death. Efforts have been made, both on the
part of the senate and that of the nobles who are not of that body,
joined by many of all classes, to arrest the Emperor in his murderous
career, but in vain. Not the Seven Hills are more firmly rooted in the
earth, than he in his purposes of blood. This is well known abroad; and
the people are the more emboldened in the course they take. They know
well that Aurelian is supreme and omnipotent; that no power in Rome can
come in between him and his object, whatever it may be; and that they,
therefore, though they should err through their haste, and in their zeal
even go before the edicts, would find in him a lenient judge. No
Christian was accordingly to be now seen in the streets--for nowhere
were they safe from the ferocious language, or even the violent
assaults, of the mob. These cruel executioners I found all along,
wherever I moved, standing about in groups as if impatiently awaiting
the hour of noon, or else gathered about the dwellings of well-known
Christians, assailing the buildings with stones, and the ears of their
pent-up inhabitants with all that variety of imprecation they so well
know how to use. It was almost with sensations of guilt that I walked
the streets of Rome in safety, bearing a sort of charmed life, while
these thousands of my friends were already suffering more through their
horrible anticipation, than they would when they should come to endure
the reality. But, although I passed along uninjured by actual assault,
the tongue was freely let loose upon me, and promises were abundantly
lavished that, before many days were gone, not even the name of Piso,
nor the favor of Aurelian, should save me from the common doom.
As the hour of noon drew nigh, it seemed as if the entire population of
Rome was pouring itself into the streets and avenues leading to the
capitol. Not the triumph of Aurelian itself filled this people with a
more absorbing, and, as it appeared, a more pleasing interest, than did
the approaching calamities of the Christians. Expectation was written on
every face. Even the boys threw up their caps as in anticipation of
somewhat that was to add greatly to their happiness.
* * * * *
The sixth hour has come and is gone. The edicts are published, and the
Christians are now declared enemies of the state and of the gods, and
are required to be informed against by all good citizens, and arraigned
before the Prefect and the other magistrates especially appointed for
the purpose.
* * * * *
All is now confusion, uproar, and cruel violence.
* * * * *
No sooner was the purport of the edicts ascertained by the multitudes
who on this occasion, as before, thronged the capitol, than they
scattered in pursuit of their victims. The priests of the temples
heading the furious crowds, they hastened from the hill in every
direction, assailing, as they reached them, the houses of the
Christians, and dragging the wretched inhabitants to the presence of
their barbarous judges. Although in the present edicts the people are
not let loose as authorized murderers upon the Christians, they are
nevertheless exhorted and required to inform against them and bring them
before the proper tribunals on the charge of Christianity, so that there
is lodged in their hands a fearful power to harrass and injure--a power
which is used as you may suppose Romans would use it. Every species of
violence has this day been put in practice upon this innocent people;
their perpetrators feeling sure that, in the confusion, deeds at which
even Varus or Aurelian might take offence will be overlooked. The
tribunals have been thronged from noon till night with Christians and
their accusers. As the examination of those who have been brought up has
rarely occupied but a few moments, the evidence always being
sufficiently full to prove them Christians, and, when that has been
wanting, their own ready confession supplying the defect--the prisons
are already filling with their unhappy tenants, and extensive provisions
are making to receive them in other buildings set apart for the time to
this office. A needless provision. For it requires but little knowledge
of Aurelian to know that his impatient temper will not long endure the
tedious process of a regular accusation, trial, condemnation, and
punishment. A year, in that case, would scarce suffice to make way with
the Christians of Rome. Long before the prisons can be emptied in a
legal way of the tenants already crowding them, will the Emperor resort
to the speedier method of a general and indiscriminate massacre. No one
can doubt this, who is familiar as I am with Aurelian, and the spirits
who now rule him.
* * * * *
Let me tell you now of the fate of Probus.
He was seated within his own quiet home at the time the edicts were
proclaimed from the steps of the capitol. The moment the herald who
proclaimed them had pronounced the last word, and was affixing them to
the column, the name of Probus was heard shouted from one side of the
hill to the other, and, while the multitude scattered in every direction
in pursuit of those who were known to them severally as Christians, a
large division of it made on the instant for his dwelling. On arriving
there, roused by the noise of the approaching throng, Probus came forth.
He was saluted by cries and yells, that seemed rather to proceed from
troops of wild beasts than men. He would fain have spoken to them, but
no word would they hear. 'Away with the Christian dog to the Prefect!'
arose in one deafening shout from the people; and on the instant he was
seized and bound, and led unresisting away to the tribunal of Varus.
As he was dragged violently along, and was now passing the door which
leads to the room where Varus sits, Felix, the bishop, having already
stood before the Prefect, was leaving the hall, urged along by soldiers
who were bearing him to prison.
'Be of good cheer, Probus!' exclaimed he; 'a crown awaits thee within.
Rome needs thy life, and Christ thy soul.'
'Peace, dotard!' cried one of those who guarded and led him; and at the
same moment brought his spear with such force upon his head that he
felled him to the pavement.
'Thou hast slain thyself, soldier, by that blow rather than him,' said
Probus. 'Thine own faith has torments in reserve for such as thee.'
'Thou too!' cried the enraged soldier; and he would have repeated the
blow upon the head of the offender, but that the descending weapon was
suddenly struck upwards, and out of the hand of him who wielded it, by
another belonging to the same legion, who guarded Probus, saying as he
did so,
'Hold, Mutius! it is not Roman to strike the bound and defenceless,
Christians though they be. Raise that fallen old man, and apply such
restoratives as the place affords.' And then, with other directions to
those who were subordinate to him, he moved on, bearing Probus with him.
Others who had arrived before him, were standing in the presence of
Varus, who was questioning them as to their faith in Christ. On the left
hand of the Prefect, and on the right of those who were examined, stood
a small altar surmounted by a statue of Jupiter, to which the Christians
were required to sacrifice. But few words sufficed for the examination
of such as were brought up. Upon being inquired of touching their faith,
there was no waiting for witnesses, but as soon as the question was put,
the arraigned person acknowledged at once his name and religion. He was
then required to sacrifice and renounce his faith, and forthwith he
should be dismissed in safety, and with honor. This the Christian
refusing steadfastly to do, sentence of death was instantly pronounced
against him, and he was remanded to the prisons to await the time of
punishment.
Probus was now placed before the Prefect. When it was seen throughout
the crowd which again filled the house, who it was that was arraigned
for examination, there were visible signs of satisfaction all around,
that he, who was in a manner the ringleader of the sect, was about to
meet with his deserts. As the eye of Varus fell upon Probus, and he too
became aware who it was that stood at his tribunal, he bent courteously
towards him, and saluted him with respect.
'Christian,' said he, 'I sincerely grieve to see thee in such a pass.
Ever since I met thee in the shop of the learned Publius have I
conceived an esteem for thee, and would now gladly rescue thee from the
danger that overhangs. Bethink thee now--thou art of too much account to
die as these others. A better fate should be thine; and I will stand thy
friend.'
'Were what thou sayest true,' replied Probus, 'which I am slow to
admit--for nobler, purer souls never lived on earth than have but now
left this spot where I stand--it would but be a reason of greater force
to me, why I should lose my life sooner than renounce my faith. What
sacrifice can be too holy for the altar of the God whom I serve? Would
to God I were more worthy than I am to be offered up.'
'Verily,' said Varus, 'you are a wonderful people. The more fitted you
are to live happily to yourselves, and honorably to others, the readier
you are to die. I behold in you, Probus, qualities that must make you
useful here in Rome. Rome needs such as thyself. Say but the word, and
thou art safe.'
'Could I in truth, Varus, possess the qualities thou imputest to me,
were I ready on the moment to abandon what I have so long professed to
honor and believe--abjuring, for the sake of a few years more of life, a
faith which I have planted in so many other hearts, and which has
already brought them into near neighborhood of a cruel death? Couldst
thou thyself afterward think of me but as of a traitor and a coward?'
'I never,' said Varus, 'could do otherwise than esteem one, who, however
late, at length declared himself the friend of Rome; and, more than
others should I esteem him, who, from being an enemy, became a friend.
Even the Emperor, Probus, desires thy safety. It is at his instance that
I press thee.'
Probus bent his head and remained silent. The people, taking it as a
sign of acquiescence, cried out, many of them, 'See, he will sacrifice!'
Varus too said, 'It needs not that the outward sign be made. We will
dispense with it. The inward consent, Probus, shall suffice.
Soldiers!--'
'Hold, hold, Varus!' cried Probus, rousing himself from a momentary
forgetfulness. 'Think not, O Prefect, so meanly of me! What have I said
or done to induce such belief? I was but oppressed for a moment with
grief and shame that I should be chosen out from among all the
Christians in Rome as one whom soft words and bribes and the hope of
life could seduce from Christ. Cease, Varus, then; these words are
vain. Such as I have been, I am, and shall be to the end--a Christian!'
'To the rack with the Christian then!' shouted many voices from the
crowd.
Varus enforced silence.
'Probus,' said he, as order was restored, 'I shall still hope the best
for thee. Thou art of different stuff from him whom we first had before
us, and leisure for reflection may bring thee to another mind. I shall
not therefore condemn thee either to the rack or to death. Soldiers,
bear him to the prisons at the Fabrician bridge.'
Whereupon he was led from the tribunal, and conducted by a guard to the
place of his confinement.
* * * * *
The fate of Probus we now regard as sealed. In what manner he will
finally be disposed of it is vain to conjecture, so various are the
ways, each one more ingenious in cruelty than another, in which
Christians are made to suffer and die. Standing as he does, as virtually
the head of the Christian community, we can anticipate for him a death
only of more refined barbarity.
Felix too, we learn, is confined in the same prison: and with him all
the other principal Christians of Rome.
* * * * *
We have visited Probus in his confinement. You do not remember, Fausta,
probably you never saw, the prison at the Fabrician bridge. It seems a
city itself, so vast is it, and of so many parts, running upwards in
walls and towers to a dizzy height, and downwards to unknown depths,
where it spreads out in dungeons never visited by the light of day. In
this prison, now crowded with the Christians, did we seek our friend. We
were at once, upon making known our want, shown to the cell in which he
was confined.
We found him, as we entered, seated and bending over a volume which he
was reading, aided by the faint light afforded by a lamp which his
jailer had furnished him. He received us with cheerfulness, and at his
side on the single block of stone which the cell provided for its
inmates, we sat and long conversed. I expressed my astonishment that the
favor of a lamp had been allowed him. 'It is not in accordance,' I said,
'with the usages of this place.'
'You will be still more amazed,' he replied, 'when I tell you through
whose agency I enjoy it.'
'You must inform us,' we said, 'for we cannot guess.'
'Isaac's;' he replied. 'At least I can think of no other to whom the
description given me by the jailer corresponds. He told me upon bringing
it to me, that a kind-hearted old man, a Jew, as he believed him, had
made inquiry about me, and had entreated earnestly for all such
privileges and favors, as the customs of the place would allow. He has
even procured me the blessing of this friendly light--and what is more
yet and which fills me with astonishment--has sent me this volume, which
is the true light. Can it be that Isaac has done all this, who surely
never has seemed to regard me with much favor.'
'Never doubt that it is he,' said Julia; 'he has two natures, sometimes
one is seen, sometimes the other--his Jew nature, and his human nature.
His human heart is soft as a woman's or a child's. One so full of the
spirit of love I have never known. At times in his speech, you would
think him a man bloody and severe as Aurelian himself; but in his deeds
he is almost more than a Christian.'
'As the true circumcision,' said Probus, 'is that of the heart, and as
he is a Jew who is one inwardly, so is he only a Christian who does the
deeds of one and has the heart of one. And he who does those deeds, and
has that heart--what matters it by what name he is called? Isaac is a
Christian, in the only important sense of the word--and, alas! that it
should be so, more than many a one who bears the name. But does this
make Christ to be of none effect? Not so. The natural light, which
lightens every man who cometh into the world will, here and there, in
every place, and in every age, bring forth those who shall show
themselves in the perfection of their virtues to be of the very lineage
of Heaven--true heirs of its glory. Isaac is such a one. But what then?
For one such, made by the light of nature, the gospel gives us
thousands. But how is it, Piso, in the city? Are the wolves still
abroad?'
'They are. The people have themselves turned informers, soldiers, and
almost executioners. However large may be the proportion of the friendly
or the neutral in the city, they dare not show themselves. The mob of
those devoted to Aurelian constitutes now the true sovereignty of
Rome--the streets are theirs--the courts are theirs--and anon the games
will be theirs.'
'I am given to understand,' said Probus, 'that to-morrow I suffer; yet
have I received from the Prefect no warning to that effect. It is the
judgment of my keeper.'
'I have heard the same,' I answered, 'but I know not with what truth.'
'It can matter little to me,' he replied, 'when the hour shall come,
whether to-morrow or to-night.'
'It cannot,' said Julia. 'Furnished with the whole armor of the gospel,
it will be an easy thing for you to encounter death.'