'I believe you,' resumed Longinus. 'You all earnestly desire an immortal

life--you perpetually dwell upon the thought of it, and long for it. Is

it not so with all who reflect at all upon themselves? Are there any

such, have there ever been any, who have not been possessed by the same

thoughts and desires, and who, having been greatly comforted and

supported by them during life, have not at death relied upon them, and

looked with some degree of confidence toward a coming forth again from

death? Now I think it is far more reasonable to believe in another life,

than in the delusiveness of these expectations. For I cannot suppose

that this universal expectation will be disappointed, without believing

in the wickedness, nay, the infinite malignity, of the Supreme Ruler,

which my whole nature utterly refuses to do. For what more cruel, than

to create this earnest and universal longing, and not gratify it? Does

it not seem so?'

We all admitted it.

'This instinctive desire,' continued Longinus, 'I cannot but regard as

being implanted by the Being who created us. It can proceed from no other.

It is an instinct, that is, a suggestion or inspiration of God. If it

could be shown to be a consequence of education, we might refer it for its

origin to ingenious philosophers. But it exists where the light of

philosophy has never shone. There have been none, of whom history has

preserved even obscurest traditions, who have wanted this instinct. It is

then the very inspiration of the Divinity, and will not be disappointed. I

trust much to these tendencies of our nature. This is the best ground for

our belief of a God. The arguments of the schools have never succeeded in

establishing the truth, even to the conviction of a philosophic mind, much

less a common one. Yet the truth is universally admitted. God, I think,

has provided for so important an article of faith in the structure of our

minds. He has not left it to chance or special Revelation. So, too, the

determinations of the mind concerning virtue and vice, right and wrong,

being for the most part so accordant throughout the whole race--these also

I hold to be instinctive.'

'I can think of nothing,' said Fausta, 'to urge against your argument. It

adds some strength, I cannot but confess, to what belief I had before. I

trust you have yet more that you can impart. Do not fear that we shall be

dull listeners.'

'I sit here a willing and patient learner,' said Zenobia, 'of any one who

will pour new light into my mind. Go on, Longinus.'

'To such a school,' said he, 'how can I refuse to speak? Let me ask you

then, if you have never been perplexed by the evils of life, such as

either you have yourselves experienced, or such as you have witnessed?'

'I have, indeed,' said Fausta, 'and have deeply deplored them. But how

are they connected with a future existence?'

'Thus,' replied Longinus. 'As in the last case, the benevolence of the

Supreme God cannot be sustained without the admission of the reality of a

future life. Nor only that, but it seems to me direct proof may be adduced

from the existence and universality of these evils to establish the

blackest malignity. So that to me, belief in a future existence is in

proportion to the difficulty of admitting the idea of divine malignity,

and it cannot therefore be much stronger than it is.'

'How can you make that clear to us?' said Fausta; 'I should truly rejoice

if out of the evils which so darken the earth, any thing good or beautiful

could be drawn.'

'As this dark mould,' rejoined the philosopher, 'sends upwards, and out of

its very heart, this rare Persian rose, so does hope grow out of evil, and

the darker the evil the brighter the hope, as from a richer and fouler

soil comes the more vigorous plant and larger flower. Take a particular

evil, and consider it. You remember the sad tale concerning the Christian

Probus, which Piso, in recounting the incidents of his journey from Rome

to Palmyra, related to us while seated at the tables?'

'Indeed, I did not hear it,' said Zenobia; 'so that Piso must, if he will,

repeat it.'

'We shall willingly hear it again,' said Julia and Fausta.

And I then related it again.

'Now do you wonder,' resumed Longinus, when I had finished, 'that Probus,

when, one after another, four children were ravished from his arms by

death, and then, as if to crown his lot with evil, his wife followed them,

and he was left alone in the world, bereaved of every object to which his

heart was most fondly attached, do you wonder, I say, that he turned to

the heavens and cursed the gods? And can you justify the gods so that they

shall not be chargeable with blackest malignity, if there be no future and

immortal state? What is it to bind so the heart of a parent to a child, to

give that affection a force and a tenderness which belong to no other tie,

so that anxieties for its life and welfare, and cares and sacrifices for

its good, constitute the very existence of the parent, what is it to

foster by so many contrivances this love, and then forever disappoint and

blast it, but malignity? Yet this work is done every hour, and in almost

every heart; if for children we lament not, yet we do for others as dear.'

Tears to the memory of Odenatus fell fast from the eyes of Zenobia.

'Are we not then,'--continued Longinus, without pausing--'are we not then

presented with this alternative, either the Supreme God is a malignant

being, whose pleasure it is to torment, or, there is an immortal state,

where we shall meet again with those, who, for inscrutable purposes, have

been torn from our arms here below? And who can hesitate in which to rest?

The belief, therefore, in a future life ought to be in proportion to the

difficulty of admitting the idea of divine malignity. And this idea is so

repulsive--so impossible to be entertained for one moment--that the other

cannot, it seems to me, rest upon a firmer foundation.'

'Every word you speak,' said Zenobia, 'yields pleasure and instruction. It

delights me, even when thickest beset by the cares of state, to pause and

contemplate for a moment the prospects of futurity. It diffuses a divine

calm throughout the soul. You have given me new food for my thoughts.'

'I will add,' said Longinus, 'only one thing to what I have said, and

that is, concerning the incompleteness of man, as a divine work, and

which has been mentioned by Fausta. Is not this an argument for a future

life? Other things and beings are finished and complete--man only is

left, as it were, half made up. A tree grows and bears fruit, and the end

of its creation is answered. A complete circle is run. It is the same

with the animals. No one expects more from a lion or a horse than is

found in both. But with man it is not so. In no period of history, and

among no people, has it been satisfactorily determined what man is, or

what are the limits of his capacity and being. He is full of

contradictions, and of incomprehensible organization, if he is considered

only in relation to this world. For while every other affection finds and

rests in its appropriate object, which fully satisfies and fills it, the

desire of unlimited improvement and of endless life--the strongest and

best defined of any of the desires--this alone is answered by no

corresponding object: which is not different from what it would be, if

the gods should create a race like ours, having the same craving and

necessity for food and drink, yet never provide for them the one nor the

other, but leave them all to die of hunger. Unless there is a future

life, we all die of a worse hunger. Unless there is a future life, man is

a monster in creation--compared with other things, an abortion--and in

himself, and compared with himself, an enigma--a riddle--which no human

wit has ever solved, nor can ever hope to solve.'

'This seems unanswerable,' said Fausta; 'yet is it no objection to all

such arguments, which we ourselves construct, that the thing they

establish is too great and good almost to be believed, without some divine

warrant? It does to me appear almost or quite presumptuous to think, that

for me there is by the gods prepared a world of never-fading light, and a

never-ending joy.'

'When,' replied the Greek, 'we look at the lower forms of man which fall

under our observation, I confess that the objection which you urge strikes

me with some force. But when I think that it is for beings like you to

whom I speak, for whom another and fairer world is to be prepared, it

loses again much of its force. And when I think of the great and good of

other times, of Homer and Hesiod, of Phidias and Praxiteles, of Socrates

and Plato, and of what the mind of man has in them, and in others as great

and good, accomplished, the objection which you urge loses all its force.

I see and feel that man has been made not altogether unworthy of a longer

life and a happier lot than earth affords. And in regard to the ignorant,

the low, and the almost or quite savage, we are to consider that the same

powers and affections are in them as in us, and that their inferiority to

us is not intrinsic and essential, but as it were accidental. The

difference between the soul of Plato and yonder Ethiopian slave is not in

any original faculty or power; the slave here equals the philosopher; but

in this, that the faculties and powers of Plato were strengthened, and

nurtured, and polished, by the hand of education, and the happy influences

of a more civilized community, all which to the slave has been wanting. He

is a diamond just as it comes from the mine; Plato like that one set in

gold, which sparkles with the radiance of a star, Fausta, upon your

finger. But, surely, the glory of the diamond is, that it is a diamond;

not that Demetrius has polished and set it. Man has within him so much of

the god, that I do not wonder he has been so often deified. The great and

excellent among men, therefore, I think not unworthy of immortality, for

what they are; the humble and the bad, for what they may so easily become,

and might have been, under circumstances but slightly altered.'

'I cannot,' said Julia, as Longinus closed, 'deny strength and

plausibility to your arguments, but I cannot admit that they satisfy me.

After the most elaborate reasoning, I am still left in darkness. No power

nor wit of man has ever wholly scattered the mists which rest upon life

and death. I confess, with Socrates, that I want a promise or a revelation

to enable me to take the voyage of life in a spirit of cheerfulness, and

without the fear of fatal shipwreck. If your reasonings, Longinus, were

only accompanied with authority more than that of man, if I could only

believe that the Divinity inspired you, I could then rest contented and

happy. One word authoritatively declaring man's immortality, a word which

by infallible token I could know to be a word from the Supreme, would to

me be worth infinitely more than all the conjectures, hopes, and

reasonings of all the philosophers. I fully agree with you, that the

instincts of our nature all point both to a God and to immortality. But

the heart longs for something more sure and clear, at least my woman's

heart does. It may be that it is the woman within me which prompts the

feeling--but I wish to lean upon authority in this great matter. I wish to

repose calmly in a divine assurance.'

'In that, Princess,' I could not help saying, 'I am a woman too. I have

long since lost all that regard for the gods in which I was so carefully

nourished. I despise the popular superstitions. Yet is there nothing

which I have found as yet to supply their place. I have searched the

writings of Plato, of Cicero, of Seneca, in vain. I find there, indeed,

wisdom, and learning, and sagacity, almost more than human. But I find

nothing which can be dignified by the name of religion. Their systems of

morals are admirable, and sufficient perhaps to enable one to live a

happy or fortunate life. But concerning the soul of man, and its destiny,

they are dumb, or their words, if they utter any, are but the dark

speeches of an oracle.'

'I am happy that I am not alone,' said Julia; 'and I cannot but think that

many, very many, are with me. I am sure that what most persons, perhaps,

who think and feel upon those subjects, want, is some divine promise or

revelation. Common minds, Longinus, cannot appreciate the subtlety of

your reasonings, much less those of the Phædo. And, besides, the cares

and labors of life do not allow time to engage in such inquiries, even if

we supposed all men to have capacity for them. Is it not necessary that

truths relating to the soul and futurity should rest upon authority, if

any or many beside philosophers are to embrace them? And surely, if the

poor and ignorant are immortal, it is as needful for them, as for us, to

know it. It is, I conceive, on this account, that the religion of the

Christians has spread so rapidly. It meets our nature. It supplies

authority. It professes to bring annunciations from Heaven of man's

immortality.'

'It is for that reason,' replied Longinus, 'I cannot esteem it. The very

term revelation offends. The right application of reason effects all, it

seems to me, that what is called revelation can. It perfectly satisfies

the philosopher, and as for common minds, instinct is an equally

sufficient guide and light.'

'I cannot but judge you, Longinus,' said Julia, 'wanting in a true

fellow-feeling for your kind, notwithstanding all you have said concerning

the nature and powers of man. How is it that you can desire that mankind

should remain any longer under the dominion of the same gross and

pernicious errors that have for so many ages oppressed them! Only consider

the horrors of an idolatrous religion in Egypt and Assyria, in Greece and

in Rome--and do you not desire their extermination?--and what prospect of

this can there be, but through the plain authoritative language of a

revelation?'

'I certainly desire with you,' replied Longinus, 'the extermination of

error, and the overthrow of horrible and corrupting superstitions; and of

nothing am I more sure than that the reason of man, in unfolding and

constantly improving ages, will effect it. A plain voice from Heaven,

announcing important truth, might perhaps hasten the work. But this voice,

as thought to be heard in Christianity, is not a plain voice, nor clearly

known to be a voice from Heaven. Here is the Bishop of Antioch set upon by

the Bishops of Alexandria and Cesarea, and many others, as I learn, who

accuse him of wrongly receiving and falsely teaching the doctrines of

Christ; and for two hundred years has there prevailed the like uncertainty

about the essence of the religion.'

'I look not with much hope to Christianity,' said Fausta. 'Yet I must

first inform myself more exactly concerning it, before I judge.'

'That is spoken like Fausta,' said Julia; 'and it is much for you to

say who dislike so heartily that Paul, whom I am constantly wishing

you to hear.'

'Whenever he shall lay aside a little of his pomp, I may be willing to

listen,' replied Fausta; 'but I could ill brook a discourse upon

immortality from one whose soul seems so wedded to time.'

'Well,' said Julia, 'but let us not be drawn away from our subject. I

admit that there are disputes among the Christians, but, like the disputes

among philosophers, they are about secondary matters. There is no dispute

concerning the great and chiefly interesting part of the religion--its

revelation of a future life Christians have never divided here, nor on

another great point, that Christ, the founder of the religion, was a true

messenger from God. The voice of Christianity on both these points is a

clear one. Thus, I think, every one will judge, who, as I have done, will

read the writings in which the religion is found. And I am persuaded it is

because it is so plain a voice here, that it is bidding fair to supersede

every other form of religion. And that it is a voice from God, is, it

seems to me, made out with as much clearness as we could look for. That

Christ, the author of this religion, was a messenger from God, was shown

by his miracles. How could it be shown otherwise? I can conceive of no

other way in which so satisfying proof could be given of the agency and

authority of God. And certainly there is evidence enough, if history is to

be believed, that he wrought many and stupendous miracles.'

'What is a miracle?' asked Longinus.

'It is that,' replied Julia, 'which being done or said, furnishes

satisfactory proof of the present interposing power of God. A man who, by

a word spoken, can heal sick persons, and raise to life dead ones, can be

no other than a messenger of God!'

'Why not of some other superior being--perhaps a bad one?'

'The character, teaching, objects, acts of Christ, make it unlikely, if

not impossible, that he should have been sent by any bad intelligence. And

that he came not only from a good being, but from God, we may believe on

his own word.'

'His goodness may have been all assumed. The whole may be a deception.'

'Men do not sacrifice their lives merely to deceive, to play a child's

game before the world. Christ died to show his attachment to his cause,

and with him innumerable others. Would they have done this merely to

impose upon mankind? And for what purpose?--for that of teaching a

religion inculcating the loftiest virtue! But I do not set myself forward

as a champion of this new religion,' continued Julia, plainly disturbed

lest she might have seemed too earnest. 'Would that you, Longinus, could

be persuaded to search into its claims. If you would but read the books

written by the founders of it, I am sure you would say this at least, that

such books were never written before, nor such a character portrayed as

that of Jesus Christ. You who profess yourself charmed with the poetry of

the Jewish Scriptures, and the grandeur of the sentiments expressed in

them, would not be less impressed by the gentler majesty, the mild, sweet

dignity of the person and doctrine of Christ. And if the reasonings of

Socrates and Plato have any power to convince you of the immortality of

the soul, how must you be moved by the simple announcements of the truth

by the Nazarene, and above all by his resurrection from the dead!

Christianity boasts already powerful advocates, but I wish it could say

that its character and claims had been examined by the great Longinus.'

The soft yet earnest, eloquent tones of Julia's voice fell upon pleased

and willing ears. The countenance of the Greek glowed with a generous

satisfaction, as he listened to the reasoning of his fair pupil, poured

forth in that noble tongue it had been his task and his happiness to teach

her. Evidently desirous, however, not to prolong the conversation, he

addressed himself to the Queen.

'You are pleased,' said he, 'you must be, with the aptness of my scholar.

Julia has not studied dialectics in vain. Before I can feel myself able to

contend with her, I must study the books she has commended so--from which,

I must acknowledge, I have been repelled by a prejudice, I believe, rather

than any thing else, or more worthy--and then, perhaps, I may agree in

opinion with her.'

'In truth,' said Zenobia, 'Julia is almost or quite a Christian. I knew

not, daughter, that Paul had made such progress in his work. But all have

my full consent to cherish such form of religious faith as most approves

itself to their own minds. I find my highest satisfaction in Moses and the

prophets. Happy shall I be if Julia find as much, or more, in Christ and

his apostles. Sure am I, there is no beneficent power nor charm in the

religions of Greece, or Rome, or Persia, or Egypt, to cause any of us to

adhere to them, though our very infancy were instructed in their

doctrines.'

'It is not, I assure you,' said Julia, 'to Paul of Antioch that I owe such

faith in Christ as I have, but to the Christian books themselves; or if to

any human authority besides, to St. Thomas, the old hermit of the

mountain, to whom I would that every one should resort who would draw near

to the purest living fountain of Christian knowledge.'

'I trust,' said I, 'that at some future time I may, with your guidance, or

through your influence, gain admittance to this aged professor of the

Christian faith. I confess myself now, since what I have heard, a seeker

after Christian knowledge.'

'Gladly shall I take you there,' replied the princess, 'and gladly will

St. Thomas receive you.'

We now at the same time rose from our seats. Zenobia, taking the hand of

Fausta, walked toward the palace; Longinus, with folded arms, and as if

absorbed by the thoughts which were passing through his mind, began to

pace to and fro beneath the thick shadows of a group of orange trees. I

was left with Julia.

'Princess,' said I, 'it is yet early, and the beauty of the evening makes

it wrong to shut ourselves up from the sight of so fair a scene: shall we

follow farther some of these inviting paths?'

'Nothing can be more pleasant,' said she; 'these are my favorite haunts,

and I never am weary of them, and never did they seem to me to wear a more

lovely aspect than now. Let me be your guide, and I will lead you by a

winding way to Zenobia's Temple, as we call it, for the reason that it is

her chosen retreat, as the arbor which we have now left is mine.'

So we began to walk toward the spot of which she spoke. We were for

some time silent. At length the princess said, 'Roman, you have now

seen Zenobia, both as a queen and a woman. Has fame done her more

than justice?'

'Great as her reputation is in Rome,' I replied, 'fame has not, to my ear

at least, brought any thing that more than distantly approaches a true and

faithful picture of her. We have heard much indeed--and yet not enough--of

her surpassing beauty, of the vigor of her understanding, of her vast

acquirements in the Greek learning, of the wisdom and energy of her

conduct as a sovereign queen, of her skill in the chase, of her bravery

and martial bearing, when, at the head of her troops, she leads them to

the charge. But of this union of feminine loveliness with so much of

masculine power, of this womanly grace, of this winning condescension,--so

that it loses all the air of condescension,--to those even much beneath

her in every human accomplishment as well as in rank, of this I had heard

nothing, and for this I was not prepared. When, in the morning, I first

saw her seated in all the pride of oriental state, and found myself

prostrate at her feet, it was only Zenobia that I saw, and I saw what I

expected. But no sooner had she spoken, especially no sooner had she cast

that look upon you, princess, when you had said a few words in reply to

me, than I saw not Zenobia only, but the woman and the mother. A veil was

suddenly lifted, and a new being stood before me. It seemed to me that

moment, that I knew her better than I know myself. I am sure that I know

her. Her countenance all living with emotion, changing and working with

every thought of her mind and every feeling of her heart, reveals her with

the truth of a magic mirror. She is not known at Rome.'

'I am sorry for it,' said Julia; 'if they only knew her, they could never

do her harm. You, Piso, may perhaps do much for her. I perceive, already,

that she highly regards you, and values your opinion. If you are willing

to do us such service, if you feel interest enough in our fate, speak to

her, I pray you, with plainness, all that you think. Withhold nothing.

Fear not to utter what you may deem to be most unpalatable truths. She is

candid and generous as she is ambitious. She will at least hear and weigh

whatever you may advance. God grant, that truth may reach her mind, and

reaching, sway it!'

'I can now think of no higher satisfaction,' I replied, 'than to do all I

may, as a Roman, in your service. I love your nation; and as a Roman and

a man, I desire its welfare and permanent glory. Its existence is

necessary to Rome; its ruin or decay must be, viewed aright, but so much

injury to her most vital interests. Strange, how strange, that Zenobia,

formed by the gods to draw her happiness from sources so much nobler than

any which ambition can supply, should turn from them, and seek for it in

the same shallow pool with Alexander, and Aurelian, and the hireling

soldier of fortune!'

'Strange indeed,' said Julia, 'that she who can enter with Longinus into

the deepest mysteries of philosophy, and whose mind is stored with all the

learning of the schools, should still love the pomp of power better than

all. And Fausta is but her second self. Fausta worships Zenobia, and

Zenobia is encouraged in her opinions by the kindred sentiments of that

bright spirit. All the influence, Piso, which you can exert over Fausta

will reach Zenobia.'

'It seems presumptuous, princess,' said I, 'to seek to draw the minds of

two such beings as Zenobia and Fausta to our bent. Yet surely they are in

the wrong.'

'It is something,' quickly added the princess, 'that Longinus is of our

mind; but then again Zabdas and Gracchus are a host on the other part. And

all the power and pride of Palmyra are with them too. But change Zenobia,

and we change all. O how weary am I of ambition, and how sick of

greatness! Willingly would I exchange all this for an Arab's tent, or a

hermit's cell,'

'The gods grant that may never be,' I replied; 'but that you, princess,

may yet live to sit upon the throne of Zenobia.'

'I say it with sincerity, Roman--that prayer finds no echo in my bosom, I

have seen enough of power, and of the honors that wait upon it. And when I

say this, having had before my eyes this beautiful vision of Zenobia

reigning over subjects as a mother would reign over her family, dealing

justly with all, and living but to make others happy--you must believe me.

I seek and love a calmer, humbler lot. This, Piso, is the temple of

Zenobia. Let us enter.'

We approached and entered. It was a small building, after the model of the

temple of Vesta at Tibur, constructed of the most beautiful marbles, and

adorned with statues. Within were the seats on which the Queen was

accustomed to recline, and an ample table, covered with her favorite

authors, and the materials of writing.

'It is here,' said Julia, 'that, seated with my mother, we listen to the

eloquence of Longinus, while he unfolds the beauties of the Greek or

Roman learning; or, together with him, read the most famous works of

former ages. With Homer, Thucydides, and Sophocles for our companions, we

have here passed precious hours and days, and have the while happily

forgotten the heavy burden of a nation's cares. I have forgotten them;

not so Zenobia. They are her life, and from all we have read would she

ever draw somewhat that should be of service to her in the duties of her

great office,'

Returning to the surrounding portico, we stood and for a time enjoyed in

silence the calm beauty of the scene.

As we stood thus,--Julia gazing upon the objects around us, or lost in

thought, I must I say it? seeing scarce any thing but her, and thinking

only of her--as we stood thus, shouts of merry laughter came to us, borne

upon the breeze, and roused us from our reverie.

'These sounds,' said I,' cannot come from the palace; it is too far,

unless these winding walks have deceived me.'

'They are the voices,' said Julia, 'I am almost sure, of Livia and

Faustula, and the young Cæsars. They seem to be engaged in some sport near

the palace. Shall we join them?'

'Let us do so,' said I.

So we moved toward that quarter of the gardens whence the sounds

proceeded. A high wall at length separated us from those whom we sought.

But reaching a gate, we passed through and entered upon a lawn covered as

it seemed with children, slaves, and the various inmates of the palace.

Here, mingled among the motley company, we at once perceived the Queen,

and Longinus and Fausta, together with many of those whom we had sat with

at the banquet. The centre of attraction, and the cause of the loud shouts

of laughter which continually arose, was a small white elephant with

which the young princes and princesses were amusing themselves. He had

evidently been trained to the part he had to perform, for nothing could be

more expert than the manner in which he went through his various tricks.

Sometimes he chased them and pretended difficulty in overtaking them; then

he would affect to stumble, and so fall and roll upon the ground; then

springing quickly upon his feet, he would surprise some one or other

lurking near him, and seizing him with his trunk would hold him fast, or

first whirling him in the air, then seat him upon his back, and march

gravely round the lawn, the rest following and shouting; then releasing

his prisoner, he would lay himself upon the ground, while all together

would fearlessly climb upon his back, till it was covered, when he would

either suddenly shake his huge body, so that one after another they rolled

off, or he would attempt to rise slowly upon his legs, in doing which,

nearly all would slip from off his slanting back, and only two or three

succeed in keeping their places. And other sportive tricks, more than it

would be worth while for me to recount, did he perform for the amusement

of his play-fellows. And beautiful was it to see the carefulness with

which he trod and moved, lest any harm might come to those children. His

especial favorite was the little flaxen-haired Faustula. He was never

weary of caressing her, taking her on his trunk, and bearing her about,

and when he set her down, would wait to see that she was fairly on her

feet and safe, before he would return to his gambols. Her voice calling

out, 'Sapor, Sapor,' was sure to bring him to her, when, what with words

and signs, he soon comprehended what it was she wanted. I myself came in

unwittingly for a share of the sport. For, as Faustula came bounding by

me, I did as those are so apt to do who know little of children--I

suddenly extended my arms and caught her. She, finding herself seized and

in the arms of one she knew not, thought, as children will think, that she

was already home a thousand leagues from her home, and screamed; whereupon

at the instant, I felt myself taken round the legs by a force greater than

that of a man, and which drew them together with such violence that

instinctively I dropped the child, and at the same time cried out with

pain. Julia, standing next me, incontinently slapped the trunk of the

elephant--for it was that twisted round me--with her hand, at which,

leaving me, he wound it lightly round the waist of the princess, and held

her his close prisoner. Great laughter from the children and the slaves

testified their joy at seeing their elders, equally with themselves, in

the power of the elephant. Milo being of the number, and in his foolish

exhilaration and sportive approbation of Sapor's feats having gone up to

him and patted him on his side, the beast, receiving as an affront that

plebeian salutation, quickly turned upon him, and taking him by one of his

feet, held him in that displeasing manner---his head hanging down--and

paraded leisurely round the green, Milo making the while hideous outcry,

and the whole company, especially the slaves and menials, filling the air

with screams of laughter. At length Vabalathus, thinking that Milo might

be injured, called out to Sapor, who thereupon released him, and he,

rising and adjusting his dress, was heard to affirm, that it had never

happened so while he was in the service of Gallienus.

These things for the little Gallus.

Satisfied now with the amusements of the evening and the pleasures of the

day, we parted from one another, filled with quite different sentiments

from those which had possessed us in the morning. Do members of this

great human family ever meet each other in social converse, and freely

open their hearts, without a new and better strength being given to the

bonds which hold in their embrace the peace and happiness of society? To

love each other, I think we chiefly need but to know each other.

Ignorance begets suspicion, suspicion dislike or hatred, and so we live

as strangers and enemies, when knowledge would have led to intimacy and

friendship. Farewell!

Letter VI.

Many days have passed, my Curtius, since I last wrote, each bringing its

own pleasures, and leaving its ineffaceable impressions upon the soul. But

though all have been in many things delightful, none has equalled that day

and evening at the palace of the Queen. I have now mingled largely with

the best society of Palmyra. The doors of the noble and the rich have

been opened to me with a liberal hospitality, As the friend of Gracchus

and Fausta--and now I may add I believe without presumption--of Zenobia

also, of Julia, and Longinus, I have been received with attentions, of

which Aurelian himself might with reason have been proud. More and more do

I love this people, more and more fervently do I beg of the Being or

Beings who rule over the affairs of men, to interpose and defend them from

any threatening danger. I grieve that the rumors still reaching us from

Rome tend so much to confirm the belief that our emperor is making

preparations for an eastern expedition. Yet I cannot bring myself to think

that he aims at Zenobia. If it were so, would there be first no

communication with the Queen? Is it like Aurelian to plan and move so

secretly? And against a woman too?--and that woman Zenobia? I'll not

believe it. Your letters would not be what they are, if there were any

real purpose like that which is attributed to Aurelian. But time will make

its revelations. Meanwhile, let me tell you where I now am, and what

pleasures I am enjoying. This will be written under various dates.

I write to you from what is called the Queen's Mountain Palace, being her

summer residence--occasionally--either to avoid the greater heats of the

city or that she may divert herself with athletic sports of hunting, of

which she is excessively fond, and in which she has few equals of her own

or even of our sex. Roman women of the present day would be amazed,

perhaps shocked, to be told what the sports and exercises are in which

this great eastern Queen finds her pleasures. She is not more exalted

above the women of Rome by genius, and the severer studies of the closet,

than she is, in my judgment, by the manner and fashion of her recreations.

Let not the dear Lucilia be offended. Were she here with me, her fair and

generous mind would rest, I am sure, after due comparisons, in the very

same conclusions. Fausta is in these respects too, as in others, but her

second self. There is not a feat of horsemanship or archery, nor an

enterprise in the chase, but she will dare all and do all that is dared or

done by Zenobia; not in the spirit of limitation or even rivalry, but from

the native impulses of a soul that reaches at all things great and

difficult. And even Julia, that being who seems too ethereal for earth,

and as if by some strange chance she were misplaced, being here, even

Julia has been trained in the same school, and, as I shall show you, can

join in the chase, and draw the bow, with scarcely less of skill and

vigor--with no less courage--than either her mother or Fausta. Although I

have now seen it, I still can hardly associate such excess of beauty--a

beauty both of form and face so truly belonging to this soft, Syrian

clime--with a strength and dexterity at every exercise that might put to

shame many a Roman who wears both a beard and the manly gown. But this, I

need not say, is not after Julia's heart. She loves more the gentler

encounters of social intercourse, where wit, and sense, and the

affections, have their full play, and the god-like that is within us

asserts its supremacy.

But my purpose now is to tell you how and why it is I am here, and

describe to you as well as I can this new Elysium: and how it is the happy

spirits, whom the gods have permitted to dwell here, pass their hours.

I am here by the invitation of the Queen. A few days after that which we

had so highly enjoyed at the palace, she expressed her desire that

Gracchus, Fausta, and myself would accompany her, with others of her

select friends, to her retreat among the hills, there to indulge in

perfect repose, or engage in the rural sports of the place, according to

our pleasure. I was not slow, neither were Gracchus and Fausta, to accept

so agreeable an invitation. 'I feared,' said Fausta, 'lest the troubled

state of affairs would prevent the Queen from taking her usual vacation,

where she loves best to be. But to say the truth, Lucius, I do not think

the prospect of a rupture with Rome does give her very serious thought.

The vision of a trial of arms with so renowned a soldier as Aurelian, is,

I doubt, not wholly, displeasing to her; there being especially so good

reason to believe that what befell Heraclianus might befall Aurelian. Nay,

do not look so grave. Rome is not fallen--yet.'

'Your tongue, Fausta, is lighter than your heart. Yet if Rome must fall,

why truly I know not at whose feet it could fall so worthily as those of

Zenobia and Fausta. But I trust its destiny is never to fall. Other

kingdoms as great, or almost as great, I know you will say, have fallen,

and Rome must in its turn. It seems, however, I must say, to possess a

principle of vitality which never before belonged to any nation. Its very

vastness too seems to protect it. I can as soon believe that shoals of

sea-carp may overcome the whale, or an army of emmets the elephant or

rhinoceros, as that one nation, or many banded together, can break down

the power of Rome.'

'How very, very naturally and easily is that said. Who can doubt that

you are a Roman, born upon the Coelian Hill! Pity but that we Palmyrenes

could copy that high way you Romans have. Do you not think that strength

and success lie much in confidence? Were every Roman such as you, I can

believe you were then omnipotent. But then we have some like you. Here

are Zenobia and I; you cannot deny that we have something of the Roman

about us.'

'I confess it would be a drawn battle, at least, were you a nation of

Zenobias. How Fausta is at the lance, I cannot yet tell.'

'That you shall see as soon as we are among the mountains. Is not this

charming, now, in the Queen, to bring us all together again so soon, under

her own roof? And such a place too, Lucius! We shall live there, indeed;

each day will at least be doubled. For I suppose life is to be measured,

not by hours, but sensations. Are you ready for the morning start? O, that

Solon were here! what exquisite mirth should we have! Milo is something;

but Solon were more.'

'Fausta, Fausta,' cried Gracchus, 'when will you be a woman?'

'Never, I trust,' replied Fausta; 'if I may then neither laugh, nor cry,

nor vex a Roman, nor fight for our Queen. These are my vocations, and if I

must renounce them, then I will be a man.'

'Either sex may be proud to gain you, my noble girl,' said Gracchus.

Early in the morning of the following day, all at the house of Gracchus

gave note of preparation. We were to meet the Queen and her party a few

miles from the walls of the city, at an appointed place, whence we were

to make the rest of the journey in company. We were first at the place of

meeting, which was a rising ground, shadowed by a few cedars, with their

huge branching tops. We reined up our horses and stood with our faces

toward the road, over which we had just passed, looking to catch the first

view of the Queen. The sun was just rising above the horizon, and touching

with its golden color the higher objects of the scene--the tall

cedars--the gray crags, which here and there jutted out into the

plain--the towers, and columns, and obelisks of the still slumbering city.

'How beautiful!' exclaimed Fausta: 'but look! that is more beautiful

still--that moving troop of horse! See!--even at this distance you can

distinguish the form and bearing of the Queen. How the slant beams of this

ruddy sun make her dress and the harness of her gallant steed to sparkle!

Is it not a fair sight, Lucius?'

It was beautiful indeed. The Queen was conspicuous above all, not more for

her form and bearing, than for the more than imperial magnificence of her

appointments. It is thus she is always seen by her people, dazzling them

equally by her beauties and her state. As she drew nearer, I felt that I

had never before seen aught on earth so glorious. The fiery Arabian that

bore her knew, as well as I, who it was that sat upon him; and the pride

of his carriage was visible in a thousand expressive movements. Julia was

at her side, differing from her only as one sun differs from another. She,

like Zenobia, seemed almost a part of the animal that bounded beneath her,

so perfect was the art with which she rode.

'A fair morning to you all,' cried the Queen, accompanying the words with

a glance that was reward enough for a life of service. 'The day smiles

upon our enterprise. Fausta, if you will join me, Piso will take care of

Julia; as for our Zabdas and Longinus, they are sad loiterers.'

Saying these things--scarcely checking her steed--and before the rest of

the party had quite come up--we darted on, the Queen leading the way, and,

as is her wont, almost at the top of her horse's speed.

'Zenobia,' said Julia, 'is in fine spirits this morning, as you may judge

from her beaming countenance, and the rate at which she travels. But we

can hardly converse while we are going so fast.'

'No bond has been signed,' said I, 'that we should ride like couriers.

Suppose, princess, we slacken our pace.'

'That will we,' she replied, 'and leave it to the Queen to announce our

approach. Here now, alas! are Zabdas and Longinus overtaking us. The Queen

wonders at your delay,' said she, addressing them; 'put spurs to your

horses, and you may easily overtake her.'

'Is it required?' asked the Egyptian, evidently willing to linger.

'Not so indeed,' answered Julia, 'but it would be gallant; the Queen,

save Fausta, is alone. How can we answer it, if evil befall her? Her

girth may break.'

At which alarming suggestion, taking it as merrily as it was given, the

two counsellors quickened their pace, and bidding us good morning, soon,

as we saw at the ascent of a little hill, overtook Zenobia.

For the rest of us, we were passing and repassing each other, mingling

and separating all the remainder of the way. Our road lay through a rough

and hilly country, but here and there sprinkled with bright spots of the

richest beauty and highest cultivation, The valleys, whenever we descended

into them, we found well watered and tilled, and peopled by an apparently

happy peasantry. And as we saw them from first one eminence and then

another, stretching away and winding among the hills, we agreed that they

presented delicious retreats for those who, weary of the world, wished to

taste, toward the close of life, the sweets of a repose which the world

never knows. As we drew toward the end of our ride--a ride of quite twenty

Roman miles--we found ourselves forsaken of all the rest of the company,

owing either to our horses not being equal to the others, or rather,

perhaps, to the frequent pauses which we made at all those points where

the scenery presented any thing beautiful or uncommon.

Every thing now at last indicated that we were not far from the royal

demesne. All around were marks of the hand and eye of taste having been

there, and of the outlay of enormous wealth. It was not, however, till we

had, for a mile and more, ridden through lawns and fields covered with

grain and fruit, laid out in divisions of tillage or of wood, that,

emerging from a dark grove, we came within sight of the palace. We could

just discern, by the glittering of the sun upon the jewelry of their

horses, that the last of the company were wheeling into the grounds in

front of what seemed the principal part of the vast structure. That we

might not be too much in the rear of all, we put our horses to their

speed, which then, with the fleetness of wind, bore us to the outer gates

of the palace. Passing these, we were in a moment in the midst of those

who had preceded us, the grooms and slaves of the palace surrounding us,

and taking charge of our horses. Zenobia was still standing in the great

central portico, where she had dismounted, her face glowing with the

excitement of the ride, and engaged in free discourse with, the group

around her. Soon as Julia reined up her horse, and quicker than any other

could approach, she sprang to her daughter's side, and assisted her to

dismount, holding with a strong hand the while, the fiery and restless

animal she rode.

'Welcome in safety, Julia,' said the Queen, 'and thanks, noble Piso, for

your care of your charge. But perhaps we owe your safety more to the

strength of your Arab's girth, than to any care of Piso.'

Julia's laugh rang merrily through the arches of the portico.

'Truly,' said she, 'I was glad to use any sudden conceit by which to gain

a more solitary ride than I was like to have. It was my ambition to be

Piso's companion, that I might enjoy the pleasure of pointing out to new

eyes the beauties of the country. I trust I was rightly comprehended by

our grave counsellors.'

'Assure yourself of it,' said Longinus; 'and though we could not but part

from you with some unwillingness, yet seeing whom we were to join, we bore

the loss with such philosophy as we were able to summon on the sudden.'

Zenobia now led the way to the banqueting hall, where tables loaded with

meats, fruits, and wines, offered themselves most temptingly and

seasonably, to those who had ridden, as I have said, twenty Roman miles.

This villa of the Queen, for its beauty and extent unrivalled in all the

East, I would that I could set before you, so that you might form some

conception of its greatness and variety. The palace stands at the northern

extremity of a vast plain, just where the wild and mountainous region

ends, and the more level and cultivated begins. To the North stretches a

savage country, little inhabited, and filled with the wild animals which

make the forests of Asia so terrible. This is the Queen's hunting-ground.

It was here that, with Odenatus, she pursued the wild boar, the tiger, or

the panther, with a daring and a skill that astonished the boldest

huntsmen. It was in these forests, that the wretch Mæsonius, insolently

throwing his javelin at the game, just as he saw his uncle was about to

strike, incurred that just rebuke, which however his revengeful nature

never forgave, and which was appeased only with the blood of the royal

Palmyrene. Zenobia is never more herself than when she joins the chase

mounted upon her fleet Arabian, and roused to all her power by the

presence of a gallant company of the boldest spirits of Palmyra.

The southern view, and which my apartments overlook, presents a wide

expanse of level ground, or gently undulating, offering a various prospect

of cultivated fields, unbroken lawns, dense groves, of standing or flowing

waters, of light bridges spanning them, of pavilions, arbors, statues,

standing out in full view, or just visible through, the rich foliage or

brilliant flowering plants of these sunny regions. The scene is closed by

the low, waving outline of the country, through which we passed on the

morning of our ride from Palmyra, over which there is spread a thin veil

of purple haze, adding a new charm to whatever objects are dimly discerned

through it. At one point only can we, when this vapor is by any cause

diminished, catch a glimpse of the loftier buildings of the distant city.

But the palace itself, though it be the work of man, and not of gods, is

not less beautiful than all these aspects of nature. It is wholly built

after the light and almost fantastic forms of the Persian architecture,

which seem more suited to a residence of this kind than the heavier

fashions of the Greek or Roman taste. Hadrian's villa is alone to be

compared with it for vastness and magnificence, and that, by the side of

this, seems a huge prison, so gay and pleasing are the thoughts and

sensations which this dream-like combination of arch upon arch, of

pinnacle, dome, and tower--all enriched with the most minute and costly

work--inspires the mind.

Nothing has pleased me more than at times, when the sultry heats of the

day forbid alike study and recreation, to choose for myself some remote

and shaded spot, and lying along upon the flowery turf, soothed by the

drowsy hum of the summer insects, gaze upon this gorgeous pile of oriental

grandeur, and lazily drink in the draughts of a beauty, as I believe, no

where else to be enjoyed. When at such hours Julia or Fausta is my

companion, I need not say in how great degree the pleasure is heightened,

nor what hues of a more rosy tint wrap all the objects of the scene.

Fountains here, as every where in the Eastern world, are frequent, and of

such size as to exert a sensible influence upon the heated atmosphere.

Huge columns of the coldest water, drawn from the recesses of the

mountains, are thrown into the air, and then falling and foaming over

rocks rudely piled, to resemble some natural cascade, disappear, and are

led by subterranean conduits to distant and lower parts of the ground.

These fountains take many and fantastic forms. In the centre of the

principal court of the palace, it is an enormous elephant of stone, who

disgorges from his uplifted trunk a vast but graceful shower, sometimes

charged with the most exquisite perfumes, and which are diffused by the

air through every part of the palace. Around this fountain, reclining upon

seats constructed to allow the most easy attitudes, or else in some of the

apartments immediately opening upon it, it is our custom to pass the

evening hours, either conversing with each other, or listening to some

tale which he who thinks he can entertain the company is at liberty to

relate, or gathering at once instruction and delight, as Longinus, either

from his memory or a volume, imparts to us choice selections of the

literature of Athens or Rome. So have I heard the Oedipus Tyrannus, and

the Prometheus, as I never have heard them before.

At such times, it is beautiful to see the group of listeners gathering

nearer and nearer, as the philosopher reads or recites, and catching every

word and accent of that divine tongue, as it falls from his lips. Zenobia

alone, of all who are there, ever presumes to interrupt the reader with

either question or comment. To her voice Longinus instantly becomes a

willing listener; and well may he: for never does she speak, at such

moments, without adding a new charm to whatever theme she touches. Her

mind, surprisingly clear, and deeply imbued with the best spirit of

ancient learning, and poetically cast, becomes of right our teacher; and

commands always the profound respect, if not always the assent, of the

accomplished Greek. Not unfrequently, on such casual remark of the Queen,

the reading is thereupon suspended, and discussion between her and the

philosopher, or conversation upon topics suggested in which we all take

part, ensues. But, however this may be, all moves on in a spirit the most

liberal, frank, and free. No restraint is upon us but that which reverence

for superior learning, or goodness, or beauty imposes. I must add, that on

these occasions the great Zabdas is always seen to compose himself to his

slumbers, from which he often starts, uttering loud shouts, as if at the

head of his troops. Our bursts of laughter wake him not, but by the

strange power of sleep seem to be heard by him as if they were responsive

cries of the enemy, and only cause him to send forth louder shouts than

ever, 'Down with the Egyptian dogs!' 'Let the Nile choke with their

carcasses!'--'The Queen forever!' and then his voice dies away in

inarticulate sounds.

But I should weary you indeed, were I to go on to tell you half the

beauties and delights of this chosen spot, and cause you, perhaps, to be

discontented with that quiet, modest house, upon the banks of the Tiber. I

leave you therefore to fill up with your own colors the outline which I

have now set before you, as I best could, and pass to other things.

Every day has seen its peculiar games and entertainments. Sometimes the

Queen's slaves, trained to their respective feats, have wrestled, or

fought, or run, for our amusement. At other times, we ourselves have been

the performers. Upon the racecourse, fleet Arabians have contended for the

prize, or they, who have esteemed themselves skilful, have tried for the

mastery in two or four horse chariots. Elephants have been put to their

strength, and dromedaries to their speed. But our chief pleasure has been

derived from trials of skill and of strength with the lance and the arrow,

and from the chase.

It was in using the lance, that Antiochus--a kinsman of the Queen, whom I

believe I have not before mentioned, although I have many times met

him--chiefly signalized himself. This person, half Syrian and half Roman,

possessing the bad qualities of both and the good ones of neither, was

made one of this party, rather, I suppose, because he could not be left

out, than because he was wanted. He has few friends in Palmyra, but among

wild and dissolute spirits like himself. He is famed for no quality either

great or good. Violent passions and intemperate lusts are what he is

chiefly noted for. But, except that pride and arrogance are writ upon the

lines of his countenance, you would hardly guess that his light-tinted and

beardless cheeks and soft blue eyes belonged to one of so dark and foul a

soul. His frame and his strength are those of a giant; yet is he wholly

destitute of grace. His limbs seem sometimes as if they were scarcely a

part of him, such difficulty does he discover in marshalling them aright.

Consciousness of this embarrasses him, and sends him for refuge to his

pride, which darts looks of anger and bitter revenge upon all who offend

or make light of him. His ambition is, and his hope, to succeed Zenobia.

You may think this strange, considering the family of the Queen. But as

for the sons of Zenobia, he calculates much, so it is reported, upon their

weakness both of mind and body, as rendering them distasteful to the

Palmyrenes, even if they should live; and as for Julia and her sisters, he

has so high conceptions of his own superior merit, that he doubts not in

case of the Queen's demise, that the people would by acclamation select

him, in preference to them, as her successor; or in the last emergency,

that it would be but to marry Julia, in order to secure the throne beyond

any peradventure. These are the schemes which many do not scruple to

impute to him. Whether credited or not by Zenobia, I cannot tell. But were

they, I believe she would but smile at the poor lack-brain who entertains

them. Intrenched as she is in the impregnable fortress of her people's

heart, she might well despise the intrigues of a bolder and worthier

spirit than Antiochus. For him she can spare neither words nor thoughts.

It was Fausta who a few days ago, as we rose from the tables, proposed

that we should try our strength and skill in throwing the lance. 'I

promised you, Lucius,' said she, 'that when here, you should be permitted

to judge of my abilities in that art. Are all ready for the sport?'

All sprang from their seats, like persons weary of one occupation, and

grateful for the proffer of another.

Zenobia led the way to the grounds, not far from the palace, appropriated

to games of this kind, and to the various athletic sports. Not all the

company entered the lists, but many seated themselves, or stood around,

spectators of the strife. Slaves now appeared, bearing the lances, and

preparing the ground for our exercise. The feat to be performed seemed to

me not difficult so much as impossible. It was to throw the lance with

such unerring aim and force, as to pass through an aperture in a shield of

four-fold ox-hide, of a size but slightly larger than the beam of the

lance, so as not so much as to graze the sides of the perforated place.

The distance too of the point from which the lance was to be thrown, from

the shield, was such as to require great strength of arm to overcome it.

The young Cæsars advanced first to the trial. 'Now,' whispered Fausta,

'behold the vigor of the royal arm. Were such alone our defence, well

might Palmyra tremble.'

Herennianus, daintily handling and brandishing his lance, in the manner

prescribed at the schools, where skill in all warlike arts is taught, and

having drawn all eyes upon him, at length let it fly, when,

notwithstanding so much preparatory flourish, it fell short of the staff

upon which the shield was reared.

'Just from the tables,' said the prince, as he withdrew, angry at his so

conspicuous failure; 'and how can one reach what he can scarcely see?'

'Our arm has not yet recovered from its late injury,' said Timolaus, as he

selected his weapon; 'yet will we venture a throw.' His lance reached the

mast, but dropped feebly at his foot. Vabalathus, saying nothing, and

putting all his strength in requisition, drove his weapon into the staff,

where it stood quivering a moment, and fell to the ground.

Carias, Seleucus, Otho, Gabrayas, noblemen of Palmyra, now successively

tried their fortune, and all showed themselves well trained to the use of

the weapon, by each fixing his lance in the body of the shield, and in the

near neighborhood of the central hole.

Zabdas now suddenly springing from his seat, which he had taken among

those who apparently declined to join in the sport, seized a lance from

the hands of the slave who bore them, and hurling it with the force of a

tempest, the weapon, hissing along the air, struck the butt near the

centre; but the wood of which it was made, unused to such violence,

shivered and crumbled under the blow. Without a word, and without an

emotion, so far as the face was its index, the Egyptian returned to his

seat. It seemed as if he had done the whole in his sleep. It is actual war

alone that can rouse the energies of Zabdas.

Zenobia, who had stood leaning upon her lance, next advanced to the trial.

Knowing her admirable skill at all manly exercises, I looked with

certainty to see her surpass those who had already essayed their powers.

Nor was I disappointed. With a wonderful grace she quickly threw herself

into the appointed position, and with but a moment's preparation, and as

if it cost her but a slight effort, sent her lance, with unerring aim and

incredible swiftness, through the hole. Yet was not the feat a perfect

one. For, in passing through the aperture, the weapon not having been

driven with quite sufficient force, did not preserve its level, so that

the end grazed the shield, and the lance then consequently taking an

oblique direction, plunged downward and buried its head in the turf.

'Now, Fausta,' said the Queen, 'must you finish what I have but begun. Let

us now see your weapon sweep on till its force shall be evenly spent.'

'When Zenobia fails,' said Fausta, 'there must be some evil influence

abroad that shall cripple the powers of others yet more. However, let me

try; for I have promised to prove to our Roman friend that the women, of

Palmyra know the use of arms not less than the men.'

So saying, she chose her lance, and with little ceremony, and almost

before our eyes could trace her movements, the weapon had flown, and

passing through, as it seemed, the very centre of the perforated space,

swept on till its force died away in the distance, and it fell gracefully

to the ground.

A burst of applause arose from the surrounding groups.

'I knew,' said Zenobia, 'that I could trust the fame, of the women of

Palmyra to you. At the harp, the needle, or the lance, our Fausta has no

equal; unless,' turning herself round, 'in my own Julia. Now we will see

what your arm can do.'

Standing near the lances, I selected one eminent for its smoothness and

polish, and placed it in her hand.

With a form of so much less apparent vigor than either Zenobia or Fausta,

so truly Syrian in a certain soft languor that spreads itself over her,

whether at rest or in motion, it was amazing to see with what easy

strength she held and balanced the heavy weapon. Every movement showed

that there lay concealed within her ample power for this and every manly

exercise, should she please to put it forth.

'At the schools,' said the princess, 'Fausta and I went on ever with equal

steps. Her advantage lies in being at all times mistress of her power. My

arm is often treacherous, through failure of the heart.'

It was not difficult to see the truth of what she said, in her varying

color, and the slightly agitated lance.

But addressing herself to the sport, and with but one instant's pause, the

lance flew toward the shield, and entering the opening, but not with a

perfect direction, it passed not through, but hung there by the head.

'Princess,' said Zabdas, springing from his repose with more than wonted

energy, 'that lance was chosen, as I saw, by a Roman. Try once more with

one that I shall choose, and see what the issue will be.'

'Truly,' said Julia, 'I am ready to seize any plea under which to redeem

my fame. But first give me yourself a lesson, will you not?'

The Egyptian was not deaf to the invitation, and once more essaying the

feat, and with his whole soul bent to the work, the lance, quicker than

sight, darted from his hand, and following in the wake of Fausta's,

lighted farther than hers--being driven with more force--upon the lawn.

The princess now, with more of confidence in her air, again balanced and

threw the lance which Zabdas had chosen--this time with success; for,

passing through the shield, it fell side by side with Fausta's.

'Fortune still unites us,' said Julia; 'if for a time she leaves me a

little in the rear, yet she soon repents of the wrong, and brings me up.'

Saying which, she placed herself at Fausta's side.

'But come, our worthy cousin,' said the Queen, now turning and addressing

Antiochus, who stood with folded arms, dully surveying the scene, 'will

you not try a lance?'

'Tis hardly worth our while,' said he, 'for the gods seem to have

delivered all the honor and power of the East into the hands of women.'

'Yet it may not be past redemption,' said Julia, 'and who more likely than

Hercules to achieve so great a work? Pray begin.'

That mass of a man, hardly knowing whether the princess were jesting or in

earnest--for to the usual cloud that rested upon his intellect, there was

now added the stupidity arising from free indulgence at the tables--slowly

moved toward the lances, and selecting the longest and heaviest, took his

station at the proper place. Raising then his arm, which was like a

weaver's beam, and throwing his enormous body into attitudes which showed

that no child's play was going on, he let drive the lance, which, shooting

with more force than exactness of aim, struck upon the outer rim of the

shield, and then glancing sideways was near spearing a poor slave, whose

pleasure it was, with others, to stand in the neighborhood of the butt, to

pick up and return the weapons thrown, or withdraw them from the shield,

where they might have fastened themselves.

Involuntary laughter broke forth upon this unwonted performance of the

lance; upon which it was easy to see, by the mounting color of Antiochus,

that his passions were inflamed. Especially--did we afterward

suppose--was he enraged at the exclamation of one of the slaves near the

shield, who was heard to say to his fellow: 'Now is the reign of women at

an end.' Seizing, however, on the instant, another lance, he was known to

exclaim, by a few who stood near him, but who did not take the meaning of

his words: 'With a better mark, there may be a better aim.' Then resuming

his position, he made at first, by a long and steady aim, as if he were

going, with certainty now, to hit the shield; but, changing suddenly the

direction of his lance, he launched it with fatal aim, and a giant's

force, at the slave who had uttered those words. It went through him, as

he had been but a sheet of papyrus, and then sung along the plain. The

poor wretch gave one convulsive leap into the air, and dropped dead.

'Zenobia!' exclaimed Julia.

'Great Queen!' said Fausta.

'Shameful!'--'dastardly!'--'cowardly!'--broke from one and another of

the company.

'That's the mark I never miss,' observed Antiochus; and at the same time

regaled his nose from a box of perfume.

'Tis his own chattel,' said the Queen; 'he may do with it as he lists. He

has trenched upon no law of the realm, but only upon those of breeding and

humanity. Our presence, and that of this company, might, we think, have

claimed a more gentle observance.'

'Dogs!' fiercely shouted Antiochus--who, as the Queen said these words,

her eyes fastened indignantly upon him, had slunk sulkily to his

seat--'dogs,' said he, aiming suddenly to brave the matter, 'off with

yonder carrion!--it offends the Queen.'

'Would our cousin,' said Zenobia, 'win the hearts of Palmyra, this surely

is a mistaken way. Come, let us to the palace. This spot is tainted. But

that it may be sweetened as far as may be, slaves!' she cried, 'bring to

the gates the chariot, and other remaining chattels of Antiochus!'

Antiochus, at these words, pale with the apprehensions of a cowardly

spirit, rose and strode toward the palace, from which, in a few moments,

he was seen on his way to the city.

'You may judge me needlessly harsh, Piso,' said the Queen, as we now

sauntered toward the palace, 'but truly the condition of the slave is

such, that seeing the laws protect him not, we must do something to enlist

in his behalf the spirit of humanity. The breach of courtesy, however, was

itself not to be forgiven.'

'It was a merciful fate of the slave,' said I, 'compared with what our

Roman slaves suffer. To be lashed to death, or crucified, or burned, or

flayed alive, or torn by dogs, or thrown as food for fishes, is something

worse than this quick exit of the thrall of Antiochus. You of these softer

climes are in your natures milder than we, and are more moved by scenes

like this. What would you think, Queen, to see not one, but scores or

hundreds of these miserable beings, upon bare suspicion of attempts

against their master's life, condemned, by their absolute irresponsible

possessors, to death in all its most revolting forms? Nay, even our Roman

women, of highest rank, and gentlest nurture, stand by while their slaves

are scourged, or themselves apply the lash. If under this torture they

die, it is thought of but as of the death of vermin. War has made with us

this sort of property of so cheap possession, that to destroy it is often

a useful measure of economy. By a Roman, nothing is less regarded than

life. And in truth, I see not how it can be otherwise.'

'But surely,' said Julia, 'you do not mean to defend this condition of

life. It is not like the sentiments I have heard you express,'

'I defend it only thus,' I replied: 'so long as we have wars--and when

will they cease?--there must be captives; and what can these be but

slaves? To return them to their own country, were to war to no purpose. To

colonize them were to strip war of its horrors. To make them freemen of

our own soil, were to fill the land with foes and traitors. Then if there

must be slaves, there must be masters and owners. And the absolute master

of other human beings, responsible to no one, can be no other than a

tyrant. If he has, as he must have, the power to punish at will, he will

exercise it, and that cruelly. If he has the power to kill, as he must

have, then will he kill and kill cruelly when his nature prompts. And this

his nature will prompt, or if not his nature absolutely, yet his educated

nature. Our children grow up within the sight and sound of all the horrors

and sufferings of this state of things. They use their slaves--with which,

almost in infancy, they are provided--according to their pleasure--as

dogs, as horses; they lash, they scourge them, long before they have the

strength to kill. What wonder if the boy, who, when a boy, used a slave

as his beast of burden, or his footstool, when he grows to be a man,

should use him as a mark to be shot at? The youth of Antiochus was reared

in Rome. I presume to say that his earliest play-things were slaves, and

the children of slaves. I am not surprised at his act. And such acts are

too common in Rome for this to disturb me much. The education of Antiochus

was continued and completed, I may venture also to say, at the circus. I

think the result very natural. It cannot be very different, where slavery

and the sports of the amphitheatre exist.'

'I perceive your meaning,' said Julia; 'Antiochus you affirm to be the

natural product of the customs and institutions which now prevail. It is

certainly so, and must continue so, until some new element shall be

introduced into society, that shall ultimately reform its practices, by

first exalting the sentiments and the character of the individual. Such an

element do I detect----'

'In Christianity,' said Fausta; 'this is your panacea. May it prove all

you desire; yet methinks it gives small promise, seeing it has already

been at work more than two hundred years, and has accomplished no more.'

'A close observer,' replied Julia, 'sees much of the effect of

Christianity beside that which appears upon the surface. If I err not

greatly, a few years more will reveal what this religion has been doing

these two centuries and more. Revolutions which are acted out in a day,

have often been years or centuries in preparation. An eye that will see,

may see the final issue, a long time foreshadowed in the tendencies and

character of a preceding age.'

The princess uttered this with earnestness. I have reflected upon it. And

if you, my Curtius, will look around upon the state of the empire, you

will find many things to startle you. But of this another time.

Assembled in the evening in the court of the elephant, we were made to

forget whatever had proved disagreeable during the day, while we listened

to the 'Frogs,' read by Julia and Longinus.

The following day was appointed for the chase, and early in the morning I

was waked by the braying of trumpets, and the baying of dogs. I found the

Queen already mounted and equipped for the sport, surrounded by Zabdas,

Longinus, and a few of the nobles of Palmyra. We were soon joined by Julia

and Fausta. In order to insure our sport, a tiger, made fierce by being

for some days deprived of food, had the preceding evening been let loose

from the royal collection into the neighboring forests. These forests,

abounding in game, commence immediately, as it were, in the rear of the

palace. They present a boundless continuity of crag, mountain, and wooded

plain, offering every variety of ground to those who seek the pleasures of

the chase. The sun had not been long above the horizon when we sallied

forth from the palace gates, and from the smooth and shaven fields of the

royal demesne, plunged at once into the

* * * * *

It was a moment of inexpressible horror. At the same instant, our eyes

caught the form of the famished tiger, just in the act to spring from the

crag upon the unconscious Queen. But before we had time to alarm

Zenobia--which would indeed have been useless--a shaft from an unerring

arm arrested the monster midair, whose body then tumbled heavily at the

feet of Zenobia's Arab. The horse, rearing with affright, had nearly

dashed the Queen against the opposite rocks, but keeping her seat, she

soon, by her powerful arm and complete horsemanship, reduced him to his

obedience, though trembling like a terrified child through every part of

his body. A thrust from my hunting spear quickly despatched the dying

beast. We now gathered around the Queen.

* * * * *

Hardly were we arrived at the lawn in front of the palace, when a cloud of

dust was observed to rise in the direction of the road to Palmyra, as if

caused by a body of horse in rapid movement. 'What may this mean?' said

Zenobia: 'orders were strict, that our brief retirement should not be

disturbed. This indicates an errand of some urgency.'

'Some embassy from abroad, perhaps,' said Julia, 'that cannot brook delay.

It may be from your great brother at Rome.'

While we, in a sportive humor, indulged in various conjectures, an

official of the palace announced the approach of a Roman herald,

'who craved permission to address the Queen of Palmyra.' He was

ordered to advance.

In a few moments, upon a horse covered with dust and foam, appeared the

Roman herald. Without one moment's hesitancy, he saw in Zenobia the Queen,

and taking off his helmet, said, 'that Caius Petronius, and Cornelius

Varro, ambassadors of Aurelian, were in waiting at the outer gates of the

palace, and asked a brief audience of the Queen of Palmyra, upon affairs

of deepest interest, both to Zenobia and the Emperor.'

'It is not our custom,' said Zenobia in reply, 'when seeking repose, as

now, from the cares of state, to allow aught to break it. But we will not

be selfish nor churlish. Bid the servants of your Emperor draw near, and

we will hear them.'

I was not unwilling that the messengers of Aurelian should see Zenobia

just as she was now. Sitting upon her noble Arabian, and leaning upon her

hunting spear, her countenance glowing with a higher beauty than ever

before, as it seemed to me--her head surmounted with a Parthian

hunting-cap, from which drooped a single ostrich feather, springing from a

diamond worth a nation's rental, her costume also Parthian, and revealing

in the most perfect manner the just proportions of her form--I thought I

had never seen even her, when she so filled and satisfied the eye and the

mind--and, for that moment, I was almost a traitor to Aurelian. Had Julia

filled her seat, I should have been quite so. As it was, I could worship

her who sat her steed with no less grace, upon the left of the Queen,

without being guilty of that crime. On Zenobia's right were Longinus and

Zabdas, Gracchus, and the other noblemen of Palmyra. I and Fausta were

near Julia. In this manner, just as we had come in from the chase, did we

await the ambassadors of Aurelian.

Announced by trumpets, and followed by their train, they soon wheeled into

the lawn, and advanced toward the Queen.

'Caius Petronius and Cornelius Varro,' said Zenobia, first addressing the

ambassadors, and moving toward them a few paces, 'we bid you heartily

welcome to Palmyra. If we receive you thus without form, you must take the

blame partly to yourselves, who have sought us with such haste. We put by

the customary observances, that we may cause you no delay. These whom you

see are all friends or counsellors. Speak your errand without restraint.'

'We come,' replied Petronius, 'as you may surmises great Queen, upon no

pleasing errand. Yet we cannot but persuade ourselves, that the Queen of

Palmyra will listen to the proposals of Aurelian, and preserve the good

understanding which has lasted so long between the West and the East.

There have been brought already to your ears, if I have been rightly

informed, rumors of dissatisfaction on the part of our Emperor, with the

affairs of the East, and of plans of an eastern expedition. It is my

business now to say, that these rumors have been well founded. I am

further to say, that the object at which Aurelian has aimed, in the

preparations he has made, is not Persia, but Palmyra.'

'He does us too much honor,' said Zenobia, her color rising, and her eye

kindling; 'and what, may I ask, are specifically his demands, and the

price of peace?'

'For a long series of years,' replied the ambassador, 'the wealth of Egypt

and the East, as you are aware, flowed into the Roman treasury. That

stream has been diverted to Palmyra. Egypt, and Syria, and Bithynia, and

Mesopotamia, were dependants upon Rome, and Roman provinces. It is

needless to say what they now are. The Queen of Palmyra was once but the

Queen of Palmyra; she is now Queen of Egypt and of the East--Augusta of

the Roman empire--her sons styled and arrayed as Cæsars. By whatever

consent of former emperors these honors have been won or permitted, it is

not, we are required to say, with the consent of Aurelian. By whatever

service in behalf of Rome they may, in the judgment of some, be thought to

be deserved, in the judgment of Aurelian the reward exceeds greatly the

value of the service rendered. But while we would not be deemed insensible

to those services, and while he honors the greatness and the genius of

Zenobia, he would, he conceives, be unfaithful to the interests of those

who have raised him to his high office, if he did not require that in the

East, as in the West, the Roman empire should again be restored to the

limits which bounded it in the reigns of the virtuous Antonines. This he

holds essential to his own honor, and the glory of the Roman world.'

'You have delivered yourself, Caius Petronius,' replied the Queen, in a

calm and firm voice, 'as it became a Roman to do, with plainness, and as I

must believe, without reserve. So far I honor you. Now hear me, and as you

hear, so report to him who sent you. Tell Aurelian that what I am, I have

made myself; that the empire which hails me Queen has been moulded into

what it is by Odenatus and Zenobia; it is no gift, but an inheritance--a

conquest and a possession; it is held, not by favor, but by right of birth

and power; and that when he will give away possessions or provinces which

he claims as his or Rome's, for the asking, I will give away Egypt and

the Mediterranean coast. Tell him that as I have lived a queen, so, the

gods helping, I will die a queen,--that the last moment of my reign and

my life shall be the same. If he is ambitious, let him be told that I am

ambitious too--ambitious of wider and yet wider empire--of an unsullied

fame, and of my people's love. Tell him I do not speak of gratitude on the

part of Rome, but that posterity will say, that the Power which stood

between Rome and Persia, and saved the empire in the East, which avenged

the death of Valerian, and twice pursued the king of kings as far as the

gates of Ctesiphon, deserved some fairer acknowledgment than the message

you now bring, at the hands of a Roman emperor.'

'Let the Queen,' quickly rejoined Petronius, but evidently moved by what

he had heard, 'let the Queen fully take me. Aurelian purposes not to

invade the fair region where I now am, and where my eyes are rejoiced by

this goodly show of city, plain and country. He hails you Queen of

Palmyra! He does but ask again those appendages of your greatness, which

have been torn from Rome, and were once members of her body.'

'Your emperor is gracious indeed!' replied the Queen, smiling; 'if he may

hew off my limbs, he will spare the trunk!--and what were the trunk

without the limbs?'

'And is this,' said Petronius, his voice significant of inward grief,

'that which I must carry back to Rome? Is there no hope of a better

adjustment?'

'Will not the Queen of Palmyra delay for a few days her final answer?'

added Varro: 'I see, happily, in her train, a noble Roman, from whom, as

well as from us, she may obtain all needed knowledge of both the

character and purposes of Aurelian. We are at liberty to wait her

pleasure.'

'You have our thanks, Romans, for your courtesy, and we accept your

offer; although in what I have said, I think I have spoken the sense of

my people.'

'You have indeed, great Queen,' interrupted Zabdas with energy.

'Yet I owe it to my trusty counsellor, the great Longinus,' continued the

Queen, 'and who now thinks not with me, to look farther into the

reasons--which, because they are his, must be strong ones---by which he

supports an opposite judgment.'

'Those reasons have now,' said the Greek, 'lost much or all of their

force,'--Zabdas smiled triumphantly--'yet still I would advocate delay.'

'Let it be so then,' said the Queen; 'and in the meanwhile, let the

ambassadors of Aurelian not refuse the hospitalities of the Eastern Queen.

Our palace is yours, while it shall please you to remain.'

'For the night and the morning, we accept your offers; then, as strangers

in this region, we would return to the city, to see better than we have

yet done the objects which it presents. It seemed to us, on a hasty

glance, surrounded by its luxuriant plains, like the habitation of gods.

We would dwell there a space.'

'It shall be as you will. Let me now conduct you to the palace.'

So saying, Zenobia, putting spurs to her horse, led the way to the palace,

followed by a long train of Romans and Palmyrenes. The generous

hospitality of the tables closed the day and wore away the night.

Letter VII.

You will be glad to learn, my Curtius, that the time has now come, when I

may with reason look for news from Isaac, or for his return. It was his

agreement to write of his progress, so soon as he should arrive at

Ecbatana. But since he would consume but a very few days in the

accomplishment of his task, if, the gods helping, he should be able to

accomplish it at all, I may see him even before I hear from him, and, O

day thrice happy! my brother perhaps with him. Yet am I not without

solicitude, even though Calpurnius should return. For how shall I meet

him?--as a Persian, or a Roman?--as a friend, or an enemy? As a brother, I

can never cease to love him; as a public enemy of Rome, I may be obliged

to condemn him.

You have indeed gratified me by what you have said concerning the public

works in which the emperor is now engaged. Would that the erection of

temples and palaces might draw away his thoughts from the East. The new

wall, of so much wider sweep, with which he is now enclosing the city, is

well worthy the greatness of his genius. Yet do we, my Curtius, perceive

in this rebuilding and strengthening of the walls of Rome, no indication

of our country's decline? Were Rome vigorous and sound, as once, in her

limbs, what were the need of this new defence about the heart? It is to me

a confession of weakness, rather than any evidence of greatness and

strength. Aurelian achieves more for Rome by the strictness of his

discipline, and his restoration of the ancient simplicity and severity

among the troops, than he could by a triple wall about the metropolis.

Rome will then already have fallen, when a Gothic army shall have

penetrated so far as even to have seen her gates. The walls of Rome are

her living and moving walls of flesh. Her old and crumbling ramparts of

masonry, upon which we have so often climbed in sport, rolling down into

the surrounding ditch huge masses, have ever been to me, when I have

thought of them, pregnant signs of security and power.

The ambassadors, Petronius and Varro, early on the morning succeeding

their interview with the Queen, departed for the city. They were soon

followed by Zenobia and her train of counsellors and attendants. It had

been before agreed that the princess, Fausta, and myself, should remain

longer at the palace, for the purpose of visiting, as had been proposed,

the aged Christian hermit, whose retreat is among the fastnesses of the

neighboring mountains. I would rather have accompanied the Queen, seeing

it was so certain that important interviews and discussions would take

place, when they should be all returned once more to the city. I suppose

this was expressed in my countenance, for the Queen, as she took her seat

in the chariot, turned and said to me: 'We shall soon see you again in the

city. A few hours in the mountains will be all that Julia will require;

and sure I am that the wisdom of St. Thomas will more than repay you for

what you may lose in Palmyra. Our topics will relate but to worldly

aggrandizement--yours to more permanent interests.'

How great a pity that the love of glory has so fastened upon the heart of

this wonderful woman; else might she live, and reign, and die the object

of universal idolatry. But set as her heart is upon conquest and universal

empire throughout the East, and of such marvellous power to subdue every

intellect, even the strongest, to her will, I can see nothing before her

but a short and brilliant career, ending in ruin, absolute and complete.

Zenobia has not, or will not allow it to be seen that she has, any proper

conception of the power of Rome. She judges of Rome by the feeble

Valerian, and the unskilful Heraclianus, and by their standard measures

such men as Aurelian, and Probus, and Carus. She may indeed gain a single

battle, for her genius is vast, and her troops well disciplined and brave.

But the loss of a battle would be to her the loss of empire, while to Rome

it would be but as the sting of a summer insect. Yet this she does not or

will not see. To triumph over Aurelian is, I believe, the vision that

dazzles, deludes, and will destroy her.

No sooner had the Queen and her train departed, than, mounting our horses,

we took our way, Julia, Fausta, and myself, through winding valleys and

over rugged hills, toward the hermit's retreat. Reaching the base of what

seemed an almost inaccessible crag, we found it necessary to leave our

horses in the care of attendant slaves, and pursue the remainder of the

way on foot. The hill which we now had to ascend was thickly grown over

with every variety of tree and bush, with here and there a mountain stream

falling from rock to rock, and forcing its way to the valley below. The

sultry heat of the day compelled us frequently to pause, as we toiled up

the side of the hill, seating ourselves, now beneath the dark shadows of a

branching cedar or the long-lived terebinth, and now on the mossy banks of

a descending brook. The mingled beauty and wildness of the scene, together

with such companions, soon drove the Queen, Rome, and Palmyra, from my

thoughts. I could not but wish that we might lose our way to the hermit's

cave, that by such means our walk might be prolonged.

'Is it, I wonder,' said Fausta, 'the instruction of his religion which

confines this Christian saint to these distant solitudes? What a

singular faith it must be which should drive all who embrace it to the

woods and rocks! What would become of our dear Palmyra, were it to be

changed to a Christian city? The same event, I suppose, Julia, would

change it to a desert.'

'I do not think Christianity prescribes this mode of life, though. I do

not know but it may permit it,' replied the princess. 'But of this, the

Hermit will inform us. He may have chosen this retreat on account of his

extreme age, which permits him no longer to engage in the affairs of an

active life.'

'I trust for the sake of Christianity it is so,' added Fausta; 'for I

cannot conceive of a true religion inculcating, or even permitting

inactivity. What would become of the world, if it could be proved that the

gods required us to pass our days in retired contemplation?'

'Yet it cannot be denied,' said Julia, 'that the greatest benefactors of

mankind have been those who have in solitude, and with patient labor,

pursued truth till they have discovered it, and then revealed it to shed

its light and heat upon the world.'

'For my part,' replied Fausta, 'I must think that they who have sowed and

reaped, have been equal benefactors. The essential truths are instinctive

and universal. As for the philosophers, they have, with few exceptions,

been occupied as much about mere frivolities as any Palmyrene lady at her

toilet. Still, I do not deny that the contemplative race is a useful one

in its way. What I say is, that a religion which enjoined a solitary life

as a duty, would be a very mischievous religion. And what is more, any

such precept, fairly proved upon it, would annihilate all its claims to a

divine origin. For certainly, if it were made a religious duty for one man

to turn an idle, contemplative hermit, it would be equally the duty of

every other, and then the arts of life by which we subsist would be

forsaken. Any of the prevalent superstitions, if we may not call them

religions, were better than this.'

'I agree with you entirely,' said Julia; 'but my acquaintance with the

Christian writings is not such as to enable me to say with confidence that

they contain no such permission or injunction. Indeed some of them I have

not even read, and much I do not fully understand. But as I have seen and

read enough to believe firmly that Christianity is a divine religion, my

reason teaches me that it contains no precept such as we speak of.'

We had now, in the course of our walk, reached what we found to be a broad

and level ledge, about half way to the summit of the hill. It was a spot

remarkable for a sort of dark and solemn beauty, being set with huge

branching trees, whose tops were woven into a roof, through which only

here and there the rays of the fierce sun could find their way. The turf

beneath, unincumbered with any smaller growth of tree or shrub, was

sprinkled with flowers that love the shade. The upper limit of this level

space was bounded by precipitous rocks, up which ascent seemed difficult

or impossible, and the lower by similar ones, to descend which seemed

equally difficult or impossible.

'If the abode of the Christian is hereabouts,' we said, 'it seems well

chosen both for its security and the exceeding beauty of the various

objects which greet the eye.'

'Soon as we shall have passed that tumbling rivulet,' said Julia, 'it

will come into view.'

Upon a rude bridge of fallen trunks of trees, we passed the stream as it

crossed our path, and which then shooting over the edge of the precipice,

was lost among the rocks and woods below. A cloud of light spray fell upon

us as we stood upon the bridge, and imparted a most refreshing coolness.

'Where you see,' said Julia, 'that dark entrance, beneath yonder

low-browed rock, is the dwelling of the aged Christian.'

We moved on with slow and silent steps, our spirits partaking of the

stillness and solitariness of the place. We reached the front of the

grotto, without disturbing the meditations of the venerable man. A part of

the rock which formed his dwelling served him for a seat, and another part

projecting after the manner of a shelf, served him for a table, upon which

lay unrolled a large volume. Bending over the book, his lean and

shrivelled finger pointing to the words, and aiding his now dim and feeble

eye, he seemed wholly wrapped in the truths he was contemplating, and

heeded not our presence. We stood still for a moment, unwilling to break a

repose so peaceful and profound. At length, raising his eyes from the

page, they caught the form and face of the princess, who stood nearest to

him. A quick and benignant smile lighted up his features; and rising

slowly to his full height, he bade her welcome, with sweet and tremulous

tones, to his humble roof.

'It is kind in you,' said he,'so soon again to ascend these rough

solitudes, to visit a now unprofitable old, man; and more kind still to

bring others with you. Voices from the world ring a sweet music in my

ear--sweeter than any sound of bird or stream. Enter, friends, if it

please you, and be rested, after the toil of your ascent.'

'I bring you here, father,' said Julia, 'according to my sometime

promise, my friend and companion, the daughter of Gracchus, and with her

a noble Roman, of the house of Piso, lately come hither from the capital

of the world.'

'They are very, very welcome,' replied the saint, 'your presence breaks

most gratefully the monotony of my life.'

'We almost doubted,' said I, 'venerable Father, whether it would please

you to find beneath your roof those who receive not your belief, and what

is much more, belong to a faith which has poured upon you and yours so

full a flood of suffering and reproach. But your countenance assures us

that we have erred.'

'You have, indeed,' replied the sage; 'as a Christian I see in you not

pagans and unbelievers, not followers of Plato and Epicurus, not dwellers

in Rome or Alexandria, but members of the great family of man, and as such

I greet you, and already love you. The design of christianity is to unite

and draw together, not divide and drive asunder. It teaches its disciples,

indeed, to go out and convert the world, but if they cannot convert it, it

still teaches them to love it. My days and my strength have been spent in

preaching Christ to Jews and heathen, and many of those who have heard

have believed. But more have not. These are not my brethren in Christ, but

they are my brethren in God, and I love them as his.'