Vol. II

Letter X.

As I returned from the worship of the Christians to the house of Gracchus,

my thoughts wandered from the subjects which had just occupied my mind to

the condition of the country, and the prospect now growing more and more

portentous of an immediate rupture with Rome. On my way I passed through

streets of more than Roman magnificence, exhibiting all the signs of

wealth, taste, refinement, and luxury. The happy, light-hearted populace

were moving through them, enjoying at their leisure the calm beauty of the

evening, or hastening to or from some place of festivity. The earnest tone

of conversation, the loud laugh, the witty retort, the merry jest, fell

upon my ear from one and another as I passed along. From the windows of

the palaces of the merchants and nobles, the rays of innumerable lights

streamed across my path, giving to the streets almost the brilliancy of

day; and the sound of music, either of martial instruments, or of the harp

accompanied by the voice, at every turn arrested my attention, and made me

pause to listen.

A deep melancholy came over me. It seemed to me that the days of this

people were numbered, and that the gods intending their ruin had first

made them mad. Their gayety appeared to me no other than madness. They

were like the gladiators of our circuses, who, doomed to death, pass the

last-days of life in a delirium of forced and frantic joy. Many of the

inhabitants I could not but suppose utterly insensible to the dangers

which impend--or ignorant of them; but more I believe are cheerful, and

even gay, through a mad contempt of them. They look back upon their long

and uninterrupted prosperity--they call to mind their late glorious

achievements under Odenatus and their Queen--they think of the wide extent

of their empire--they remember that Longinus is their minister, and

Zenobia still their Queen--and give their fears to the winds. A contest

with Rome they approach as they would the games of the amphitheatre.

The situation of their city, defended as it is by the wide-stretching

deserts, is indeed enough of itself to inspire the people with a belief

that it is impregnable. It requires an effort, I am aware, to admit the

likelihood of an army from the far west first overcoming the dangers of

the desert, and then levelling the walls of the city, which seem more like

ramparts of Nature's making so massy are they, than any work of man. And

the Palmyrenes have certainly also some excuse in the wretched management

of our generals, ever since the expedition of Valerian, and in the

brilliancy of their own achievements, for thinking well of themselves, and

anticipating, without much apprehension for the issue, a war with us. But

these and the like apologies, however they may serve for the common

people, surely are of no force in their application to the intelligent,

and such as fill the high places of the kingdom. They know that although

upon some mere question of honor or of boundary, it might be very proper

and politic to fight a single battle rather than tamely submit to an

encroachment, it is quite another thing when the only aim of the war is to

see which is the stronger of the two--which is to be master. This last,

what is it but madness? the madness of pride and ambition in the Queen--in

the people the madness of a love and a devotion to her, unparalleled since

the world began. A blindness as of death has seized them all.

Thinking of these things, and full of saddest forebodings as to the fate

of this most interesting and polished people, I reached the gate of the

palace of Gracchus. The inmates, Gracchus and Fausta, I learned from Milo,

were at the palace of the Queen, whither I was instructed by them to

resort at the request of Zenobia herself. The chariot of my host soon bore

me there. It was with pleasure that I greeted this unexpected good

fortune. I had not even seen the Queen since the day passed at her villa,

and I was not a little desirous, before the ambassadors should receive

their final answer, to have one more opportunity of conversing with her.

The moment I entered the apartment where the Queen was with her guests, I

perceived that all state was laid aside, and that we were to enjoy each

other with the same social ease as when in the country, or as on that

first evening in the gardens of the palace. There was on this occasion no

prostration, and no slave crouched at her feet; and all the various

Persian ceremonial, in which this proud woman so delights, was dispensed

with. The room in which we met was large, and opening on two of its sides

upon those lofty Corinthian porticos, which add so greatly to the

magnificence of this palace. Light was so disposed as to shed a soft and

moon-like radiance, which, without dazzling, perfectly revealed every

person and object, even to the minutest beauties of the paintings upon the

walls, and of the statuary that offered to the eye the master-pieces of

ancient and modern sculpture. The company was scattered; some being seated

together in conversation, others observing the works of art, others pacing

the marble floors of the porticos, their forms crossing and recrossing the

ample arched door-ways which opened upon them.

'We feared,' said the Queen, advancing toward me as I entered, 'that we

were not to be so happy as to see you. My other friends have already

passed a precious hour with me. But every sacrifice to the affections, be

it ever so slight, is a virtue, and therefore you are still an object of

praise, rather than of censure.'

I said in reply that an affair of consequence had detained me, or I

should have been earlier at the house of Gracchus, so as to have

accompanied Fausta.

Fausta, who had been sitting with the Queen, now came forward, Julia

leaning on her arm, and said, 'And what do you imagine to be the affair of

consequence that has deprived us of Piso's company?'

'I cannot tell, indeed,' replied Zenobia.

'Julia at least,' said Fausta, 'will applaud him, when she hears that he

has just come from an assembly of Christians. May I ask, Lucius, what new

truth you have learned with which to enlighten us? But your countenance

tells me I must not jest. There--let me smooth that brow and make my

peace. But in seriousness, I hope your Mediterranean friend rewarded you

for the hour you have given him, and deprived us of?'

'I wish,' I could not but reply, 'that but one out of every thousand hours

of my life had been as well rewarded, and it would not have been so

worthless. The Princess may believe me when I say that not even the Bishop

of Antioch could have done better justice to the Christian argument. I

have heard this evening a Christian of the name of Probus, whose history I

related--and which you may remember--at the tables, within a few days

after my arrival in Palmyra. He is in opinion a follower of Paul, so I am

informed, though not--you Julia will be glad to learn it--in his manner of

life. What the differences are which separate the Christians from one

another in their belief, I know not. I only know that truth cannot take a

more winning shape than that in which it came from the lips of Probus, and

it was largely supported by the words of the founder of the religion. I

think you may justly congratulate your city and your subjects,' I

continued addressing Zenobia, 'upon the labors and teaching of a man like

Probus. The sentiments which he utters are such as must tend to the

strength of any government which relies for its support, in any sense,

upon the social and personal virtues of the people. In implanting the

virtues of justice, temperance, and piety, and in binding each heart to

every other, by the bonds of a love which this religion makes itself

almost to consist in, it does all that either philosophy or religion can

do for the harmony and order of society, the safety of governments, and

the peace of the world.'

'You speak with the earnestness of a deep persuasion, Roman,' replied the

Queen, 'and I shall not forget the name and office of the person whom you

have now named to me. I hear with pleasure of the arrival of any teacher

of truth in my kingdom. I have derived so much myself from the influences

of letters and philosophy, that it is no far-off conclusion for me to

arrive at, that my people must be proportionally benefited by an easy

access to the same life-giving fountains. Whatever helps to quicken

thought, and create or confirm habits of reflection, is so much direct

service to the cause of humanity. I truly believe that there is no

obstacle but ignorance, to prevent the world from attaining a felicity and

a virtue, such as we now hardly dream of--ignorance respecting the first

principles of philosophy and religion. Knowledge is not less essential to

the increase and elevation of virtue, than it is to the further advances

of truth, and the detection of error. Prove the truth, and mankind will

always prefer it to falsehood. So too, demonstrate wherein goodness

consists, and the road that leads to it, and mankind will prefer it to

vice. Vice is a mistake, as well as a fault; I do not say as often. I

fear that the Christian teachers are occupying themselves and their

disciples too much about mere speculative and fanciful distinctions, while

they give too little heed to that which alone is of any consequence,

virtue. In this, Longinus,' turning towards the philosopher, who had now

joined us, 'I think they affect to imitate the commentators and living

expositors of the great Plato. I have heard from Paul of Samosata accounts

of differences among Christians, where the points were quite too subtle

for my understanding to appreciate. They reminded me of the refinements of

some of the young adventurers from Athens, who occasionally have resorted

here for the purpose of elucidating the doctrines of your great

master--pseudo-philosophers and tyros, I perceive you are waiting to term

them. Is it so that you denominate Polemo the Athenian, who as I learn is

now here with the benevolent design of enlightening my people?'

'He is a man,' replied Longinus, 'hardly worthy to be named in this

connection and this presence at all. I have neither met him nor heard him,

nor do I desire to do so. It is through the mischievous intermeddling of

such as he that the honorable name and office of philosopher are brought

into contempt. It requires more intellect than ever enlightens the soul of

Polemo, to comprehend the lofty truth of Plato. I trust that when it has

been my pleasure to unfold the sense of that great teacher, it has not

been found to be either unprofitable, or unintelligible?'

Zenobia smiled and said, 'I must confess that at times, as I have ever

frankly stated, my mind has been a little tasked. There has been but an

approach to a perfect idea. But I do not say that a perfect conception has

not been presented. So that when this has happened, Longinus being the

teacher, and Zenobia and Julia the pupils, I cannot doubt that when the

task is entrusted to less cultivated minds--the task both of teaching and

learning--it must frequently end in what it might be rash to term light or

knowledge.'

'I grieve, O Queen,' replied Longinus, smiling in his turn, 'that both you

and the Princess should have possessed so little affinity for the

soul-purifying and elevating doctrines of the immortal Plato--that you,

Queen, should have even preferred the dark annals of Egyptian and Assyrian

history and politics, and the Greek learning; and you, Princess, should

have fixed your affections upon this, not new-found philosophy, but

new-invented religion, of the Christians. I still anticipate the happiness

to lead you both into the groves of the academy, and detain you there,

where and where only are seats that well become you.'

'But is it not,' I ventured here to suggest, 'some objection to the

philosophy of Plato as the guide of life, that it requires minds of the

very highest order to receive it? Philosophy, methinks, should be

something of such potency, yet at the same time of such simplicity, that

it should not so much require a lofty and elevated intellect to admit it,

as tend, being received readily and easily by minds of a humbler order, to

raise them up to itself. Now this, so far as I understand it, is the

character of the Christian philosophy--for philosophy I must think it

deservedly called. It is admitted into the mind with ease. But once being

there, its operation is continually to exalt and refine it--leading it

upwards forever to some higher point than it has hitherto arrived at. I do

not deny an elevating power to your philosophy when once an inmate of the

soul--I only assert the difficulty of receiving it on the part of the

common mind.'

'And the common mind has nothing to do,' replied the Greek, 'with Plato or

his wisdom. They are for minds of a higher order. Why should the man who

makes my sandals and my cloak be at the same time a philosopher? Would he

be the happier? In my opinion, it would but increase his discontent. Every

stitch that he set would be accompanied by the reflection, "What a poor

employment is this for a soul like mine, imbued with the best wisdom of

Greece," and if this did not make him miserable at his task, it would make

him contemptible when he should forsake it to do the work of some

Polemo--who, it may safely be presumed, has made some such exchange of

occupation. No. Philosophy is not for the many, but the few. Parts there

are of it which may descend and become a common inheritance. Other parts

there are, and it is of these I speak, which may not.'

'Therein,' I rejoined, 'I discern its inferiority to Christianity, which

appeals to all and is suited to all, to lowest as well as highest, to

highest as well as lowest.'

'But I remember to have been told,' said the Greek in reply, 'that

Christian teachers too have their mysteries--their doctrines for the

common people, and their refinements for the initiated.'

'I have heard not of it,' I answered; 'if it be so I should lament it. It

would detract from its value greatly in my judgment.'

'Where your information fails, Piso, mine perhaps may serve,' said Julia,

as I paused at fault. 'It is indeed true, as has been hinted by Longinus,

that some of the Christian doctors, through their weak and mistaken

ambition to assimilate their faith the nearest possible to the Greek

philosophy, have magnified the points in which the least resemblance could

be traced between them; and through the force of a lively imagination have

discovered resemblances which exist only in their fancies. These they make

their boast of, as showing that if Platonism be to be esteemed for its

most striking peculiarities, the very same, or ones nearly corresponding,

exist also in Christianity. Thus they hope to recommend their faith to the

lovers of philosophy. Many have by these means been drawn over to it, and

have not afterward altered any of their modes of life, and scarce any of

their opinions; still wearing the philosopher's robe and teaching their

former doctrines, slightly modified by a tincture of Christianity. However

the motive for such accommodation may be justified, it has already

resulted and must do so more and more to the corruption and injury of

Christianity. This religion, or philosophy, whichever it should be called,

ought however,' continued the Princess, addressing particularly the Greek,

'certainly to be judged on its own merits, and not by the conduct or

opinions of injudicious, weak, or dishonest advocates. You are not willing

that Plato should be judged by the criticisms of a Polemo, but insist that

the student should go to the pages of the philosopher himself, or else to

some living expositor worthy of him. So the Christian may say of

christianity. I have been a reader of the Christian records, and I can

say, that such secret and mysterious doctrines as you allude to, are not

to be found there. Moreover, I can refer you, for the same opinion, to

Paul of Antioch--I wish he were here--who, however he may depart from the

simplicity of the Christian life, maintains the simplicity of its

doctrine.'

'You have well shown, my fair pupil,' replied the philosopher, 'that the

imputation upon Christianity, of a secret and interior doctrine for the

initiated alone, is unjust, but therein have you deprived it of the very

feature that would commend it to the studious and inquisitive. It may

present itself as a useful moral guide to the common mind, but scarcely

can it hope to obtain that enthusiastic homage of souls imbued with the

love of letters, and of a refined speculation, which binds in such

true-hearted devotion every follower of Plato to the doctrine of his

divine master.'

At this moment Zabdas and Otho entered the apartment, and drawing near

to our group to salute the Queen, our conversation was broken off. I

took occasion, while this ceremony was going through, to turn aside and

survey the various beauty and magnificence of the room, with its rare

works of art. In this I was joined by Longinus, who, with a taste and a

power which I have seen in no other, descanted upon the more remarkable

of the pictures and statues, not in the manner of a lecturer, but with a

fine perception and observance of that nice line which separates the

learned philosopher from the polite man of the world. He was both at

once. He never veiled his learning or his genius, and yet never, by the

display of either, jarred the sensibilities of the most refined and

cultivated taste.

When we had in this way passed through the apartment, and were standing

looking toward where Zenobia sat engaged in earnest conversation with

Gracchus and Zabdas, Longinus said,

'Do you observe the restlessness of the Queen, and that flush upon her

cheek? She is thinking of to-morrow and of the departure of the

ambassadors. And so too is it with every other here. We speak of other

things, but the mind dwells but upon one. I trust the Queen will not lose

this fair occasion to gather once more the opinions of those who most love

and honor her. Piso, you have seen something of the attachment of this

people to their Queen. But you know not the one half of the truth. There

is not a living man in Palmyra, save only Antiochus, who would not lay

down his life for Zenobia. I except not myself. This attachment is founded

in part upon great and admirable qualities. But it is to be fully

explained only when I name the fascinations of a manner and a beauty such

as poets have feigned in former ages, but which never have been realized

till now. I acknowledge it,--we are slaves yoked to her car, and ask no

higher felicity or glory.'

'I wonder not,' said I; 'though a Roman, I have hardly myself escaped the

common fate; you need not be surprised to see me drawn, by-and-by, within

the charmed circle, and binding upon my own neck the silken chains and the

golden yoke. But see, the Queen asks our audience.'

We accordingly moved toward the seat which Zenobia now occupied,

surrounded by her friends, some being seated and others standing without

order around her.

'Good friends,' she said, 'I believe one thought fills every mind present

here. Is it not better that we give it utterance? I need the sympathy and

the counsel of those who love me. But I ask not only for the opinions of

those who agree with me, but as sincerely for those of such as may differ

from me. You know me well in this, that I refuse not to hearken to

reasons, the strongest that can be devised, although they oppose my own

settled judgment. Upon an occasion like this it would ill become the head

of a great empire to shut out the slenderest ray of light that from any

quarter might be directed upon the questions which so deeply interest and

agitate us. I believe that the great heart of my people goes with me in

the resolution I have taken, and am supported in by my council; but I am

well aware, that minds not inferior to any in strength, and hearts that

beat not less warmly toward their country and toward me than any others,

are opposed to that resolution, and anticipate nought but disaster and

ruin from a conflict with the masters of the world. Let us freely open our

minds each to other, and let no one fear to offend me, but by withholding

his full and free opinion.'

'We who know our Queen so well,' said Gracchus, 'hardly need these

assurances. Were I as bitterly opposed to the measures proposed as I am

decidedly in favor of them, I should none the less fearlessly and frankly

declare the reasons of my dissent. I am sure that every one here

experiences the freedom you enjoin. But who will need to use it? For are

we not of one mind? I see indeed one or two who oppose the general

sentiment. But for the rest, one spirit animates all, and what is more, to

the farthest limits of the kingdom am I persuaded the same spirit spreads,

and possesses and fills every soul. The attempt of Aurelian to control us

in our affairs, to dictate to us concerning the limits of our empire so

far removed, is felt to be a wanton freak of despotic power, which, if it

be not withstood in its first encroachment, may proceed to other acts less

tolerable still, and which may leave us scarcely our name as a distinct

people--and that covered with shame. Although a Roman by descent, I

advocate not Roman intolerance. I can see and denounce injustice in

Aurelian as well as in another. Palmyra is my country and Zenobia my

Queen, and when I seek not their honor, may my own fall blasted and

ruined. I stand ready to pledge for them in this emergency, what every

other man of Palmyra holds it his privilege to offer, my property and my

life, and if I have any possession dearer than these, I am ready to bring

and lay it upon the same altar.'

The eyes of Zenobia filled at the generous enthusiasm of her faithful

counsellor--and, for Fausta, it was only a look and sign of the Queen that

held her to her seat.

Longinus then, as seemed to be his place, entered at length into the

merits of the question. He did not hesitate to say that at the first

outbreak of these difficulties he had been in favor of such concessions to

the pride of Rome as would perhaps have appeased her and cast no

indignity upon Palmyra. He did not scruple to add that he had deeply

disapproved and honestly censured that rash act of the young princes in

assuming the garb and state of Cæsars. He would rather leave to Rome her

own titles and empire, and stand here upon a new and independent footing.

It was a mad and useless affront, deeply wounding to the pride of

Aurelian, and the more rankling as it was of the nature of a personal as

well as national affront. He withheld not blame too from that towering

ambition which, as he said, coveted the world because the gods had indeed

imparted a genius capable to rule the world. He had exerted all his powers

to moderate and restrain it, by infusing a love of other than warlike

pursuits. 'But,' said he, 'the gods weave the texture of our souls, not

ourselves; and the web is too intensely wove and drenched in too deep a

dye for us to undo or greatly change. The eagle cannot be tamed down to

the softness of a dove, and no art of the husbandman can send into the

gnarled and knotted oak the juices that shall smooth and melt its

stiffness into the yielding pliancy of the willow. I wage no war with the

work of the gods. Besides, the demands of Rome have now grown to such a

size that they swallow up our very existence as a free and sovereign

state. They leave us but this single city and province out of an empire

that now stretches from the Nile to the Bosphorus--an empire obtained by

what cost of blood and treasure I need not say, any more than by what

consummate skill in that art which boasts the loftiest minds of all ages.'

He went on to say, that Palmyra owed a duty not only to herself in this

matter, but to the whole East, and even to the world. For what part of the

civilized world had not been trampled into dust by the despotism of

almighty Rome? It was needful to the well-being of nations that some power

should boldly stand forth and check an insolence that suffered no city nor

kingdom to rest in peace. No single people ought to obtain universal

empire. A powerful nation was the more observant of the eternal principles

of honor and justice for being watched by another, its equal. Individual

character needs such supervision, and national as much. Palmyra was now an

imposing object in the eye of the whole world. It was the second power.

All he wished was, that for the sake of the world's peace, it should

retain this position. He deprecated conquest. However another might aspire

to victory over Aurelian, to new additions from the Roman territory, he

had no such aspirations. On the other hand, he should deplore any success

beyond the maintenance of a just and honorable independence. This was our

right, he said, by inheritance, and as much also by conquest, and for

this he was ready, with the noble Gracchus, to offer to his sovereign his

properties, his powers, and his life. 'If my poor life,' he closed with

saying, 'could prolong by a single year the reign of one who, with virtues

so eminent and a genius so vast, fills the throne of this fair kingdom, I

would lay it at her feet with joy, and think it a service well done for

our own and the world's happiness.'

No sooner had Longinus ended, than Otho, a man of whom I have more than

once spoken to you, begged to say a few words.

'My opinions are well known,' he began with saying, 'and it may be

needless that I should again, and especially here, declare them, seeing

that they will jar so rudely with those entertained by you, my friends

around me. But sure I am, that no one has advocated the cause and the

sentiments which Zenobia cherishes so fondly, with a truer, deeper

affection for her, with a sincerer love of her glory, than I rise to

oppose them with--' 'We know it, we know it, Otho,' interrupted the Queen.

'Thanks, noble Queen, for the fresh assurance of it. It is because I love,

that I resist you. It is because I glory in your reign, in your renown, in

your virtues, that I oppose an enterprise that I see with a prophet's

vision will tarnish them all. Were I your enemy, I could not do better

than to repeat the arguments that have just fallen from the lips of the

head of our councils, set off with every trick of eloquence that would

send them with a yet more resistless power into the minds not only of

those who are assembled here, but of those, your subjects, wherever over

these large dominions they are scattered. To press this war is to

undermine the foundations of the fairest kingdom the sun shines upon, and

unseat the most beloved ruler that ever swayed a sceptre over the hearts

of a devoted people. It can have no other issue. And this is not, O noble

Queen, to throw discredit upon former achievements, or to express a doubt

of powers which have received the homage of the world. It is only with

open eyes to acknowledge what all but the blind must see and confess, the

overwhelming superiority in power of every kind of the other party. With a

feeble man upon the Roman throne, and I grant that upon the outskirts of

her empire a brave and determined opposition might obtain great

advantages, and conquer or re-conquer provinces and cities, and bring

disgrace upon Roman generals. But this must be a transitory glory--the

mere shooting of an evening star--ending in deeper gloom. For what is

Rome? Is it the commander of a legion, or the resident governor of a

dependent kingdom, or even Cæsar himself? And have you dealt with Rome

when you have dealt with Balista, or Heraclianus, or Probus? Alas! no.

Rome still stands omnipotent and secure. The lion has been but chafed, and

is still a lion, with more than his former fury; one hair has been drawn;

his teeth, his limbs, his massy weight, his untouched energies, remain.

Rome has been asleep for thirteen long years. Any empire but Rome--which

is immortal--would have slept the sleep of death under the dastardly,

besotted Gallienus. But Rome has but slumbered, and has now awaked with

renovated powers, under the auspices of a man whose name alone has carried

terror and dismay to the farthest tribes of the German forests. Against

Aurelian, with all the world at his back! and what can any resistance of

ours avail? We may gain a single victory--to that, genius and courage are

equal, and we possess them in more than even Roman measure--but that very

victory may be our undoing, or it will but embitter the temper of the

enemy, call forth a new display of unexhausted and inexhaustible

resources, while our very good success itself will have nearly annihilated

our armies; and what can happen then but ruin, absolute and complete?

Roman magnanimity may spare our city and our name. But it is more likely

that Roman vengeance may blot them both out from the map of the world, and

leave us nought but the fame of our Queen, and the crumbling ruins of this

once flourishing city, by which to be remembered by posterity.

'These are not the counsels of fear--of a tame and cowardly spirit. I

may rebut that imputation without vanity, by referring to the siege of

Ctesiphon and the reduction of Egypt. The generous Zabdas will do me

justice--nay, you all will--why am I apprehensive? Bear with me a moment

more'--'Say on, say on, noble Otho,' said the Queen, and many other voices

at the same time.--'The great Longinus has said,' continued he, 'that it

is needful that there be one empire at least in the world to stand between

Rome and universal dominion. I believe it. And that Palmyra may be, or

continue to be, that kingdom, I counsel peace--I counsel delay--temporary

concession--negotiation--any thing but war. A Roman emperor lives not

forever; and let us once ward off the jealousy of Aurelian, by yielding to

some of his demands, and resigning pretensions which are nothing in

reality, but exist as names and shadows only, and long years of peace and

prosperity may again arise, when our now infant kingdom may shoot up into

the strong bone and muscle of a more vigorous manhood, and with reason

assert rights, which now it seems but madness, essential madness, to do.

Listen, great Queen! to the counsels of a time-worn soldier, whose whole

soul is bound up in most true-hearted devotion to your greatness and

glory. I quarrel not with your ambition, or your love of warlike fame. I

would only direct them to fields where they may pluck fresh laurels, and

divert them from those where waits--pardon me, my royal

mistress!--inevitable shame.'

Soon as Otho had given a single sign of pause, Zabdas, like a war-horse,

sprang upon his feet. 'Were not the words,' said he, 'which we have just

heard, the words of Otho, I would cry out treason! treason!--But Otho--is

Otho. What nation would ever, O Queen, outgrow its infancy, were a policy

like this, now descanted upon, to guide its counsels? The general who

risks nothing can win nothing. And the nation that should wait till

absolutely sure of victory before unsheathing the sword would never draw

it, or only in some poor skirmish, where victory would be as disgraceful

as defeat. Besides, although such a nation were to rise by such victories,

if victories those may be called won by a thousand over an hundred, who

would not blush to own himself a citizen of it? Greatness lies not in

pounds weight of flesh, but in skill, courage, warlike genius, energy, and

an indomitable will. A great heart will scatter a multitude. The love of

freedom, in a few brave spirits, overthrows kingdoms. It was not, if I

rightly remember, numbers by which the Persian hosts were beaten upon the

plains of Greece. It was there something like three hundred to a

million--the million weighed more than the three hundred, yet the three

hundred were the heavier. The arm of one Spartan fell like a tempest upon

the degenerate Persians, crushing its thousands at a single sweep. It was

a great heart and a trusting spirit that made it weigh so against mere

human flesh. Are we to wait till Palmyra be as multitudinous as Rome, ere

we risk a battle? Perhaps Rome will grow as fast as Palmyra--and how long

must we then wait? I care not, though Aurelian bring half Europe at his

back, there sits a throned spirit--whether of earth or not, I cannot tell,

but as I think more than half divine--who will drive him back shattered

and bleeding, the jest and ridicule of the observing world. She who, by

the force of pure intellect, has out of this speck in the desert made a

large empire, who has humbled Persia, and entered her capital in triumph,

has defeated three Roman armies, and wrested more provinces than time will

allow me to number, from the firm grasp of the self-styled mistress of the

world, this more than Semiramis is to be daunted forsooth, because a Roman

soldier of fortune sends his hirelings here and asks of her the surrender

of three fourths of her kingdom--she is to kneel and cry him mercy--and

humbly lay at his royal feet the laurels won by so much precious blood and

treasure. May the sands of the desert bury Palmyra and her Queen, sooner

than one humiliating word shall pass those lips, or one act of concession

blast a fame to this hour spotless as the snows of Ararat, and bright as

the Persian God. Shame upon the man who, after the lessons of the past,

wants faith in his sovereign. Great Queen, believe me, the nation is with

you. Palmyra, as one man, will pour out treasure to the last and least

dust of gold, and blood to the last drop, that you may still sit secure

upon that throne, and stretch your sceptre over a yet wider and

undishonored empire.'

'Let not the Queen,' resumed Otho, as Zabdas ceased, 'let not the Queen

doubt my faith'--'I doubt it not, good Otho,' she replied; 'heed not the

sharp words of the impetuous Zabdas; in his zeal for the art he only loves

and for his Queen, he has thrust his lance hither and thither at all

adventures, but as in the sports of the field he means no injury.'

'Zabdas intends no wrong, I am well assured,' rejoined Otho. 'I would only

add a word, to show upon what I ground my doubt of good success, should

Aurelian muster all his strength. It cannot be thought that I have lost my

faith in the military genius and prowess of either Zenobia or Zabdas, with

both of whom, side by side, I have fought so many times, and by their

conduct mounted up to victory. Neither do I doubt the courage of our

native Palmyrenes, nor their devotion to the interests of their country.

They will war to the death. But should a second army be to be raised,

should the chosen troops of the city and its neighboring territories be

once cut off, upon whom are we then to rely? Where are the auxiliaries

whom we can trust? What reliance can be placed upon Arabs, the Armenians,

the Saracens, the Cappadocians, the Syrians? Is our empire so old, and so

well moulded into one mass, so single in interest and affection, that

these scattered tribes--formerly hostile to each other and to us, many,

most of them at different times subject to Rome--may be depended upon as

our own people? Have we legions already drawn from their numbers,

disciplined, and accustomed to our modes of warfare? Truly, this war with

Rome seems to be approached much as if it were but some passing show of

arms, some holiday pastime. But the gods grant that none of my forebodings

turn true!'

The words of the sober-minded and honest Otho found no echo in the bosoms

of those who heard him, and he ceased, when I believe he would willingly

have gone on to a closer and sharper opposition. Others followed him, each

one present eagerly pressing forward to utter, were it but one word, to

show his loyalty, and his zeal in the service of his Queen.

When all, or nearly all, had in this manner manifested their attachment

and declared their opinions, the Queen turned to me, saying, that as I had

there heard so much of what I could not approve, and perhaps had power to

disprove, it was right that if I wished I should also express my opinions;

nay, it would be esteemed as a favor by herself, and she was sure also by

all her friends, if I would freely impart any knowledge I might possess,

by which any error might be corrected, or false impressions dissipated.

Being thus invited, I not unwillingly entered into the questions that had

been agitated, and with earnestness and sincerity, and with all the power

I could bring to bear, labored to expose the imminent hazard to the very

existence of the kingdom, which was run by this rash encounter with the

countless hosts of Rome. I revealed a true picture of the resources of our

country, and sketched, as I could so well do in their proper colors, the

character of the fierce Aurelian; and, in a word, did all that a Roman

could do for Rome, and a Palmyrene for Palmyra. I remembered what Otho had

told me of the courtesy and willingness with which any company of genuine

Palmyrenes would listen to me, and shrank not from any statement however

harsh and grating to their national vanity, but which seemed to me to

convey the wholesome truth. It appeared to me indeed too late to work any

change in minds so pledged already to an adopted opinion, but I resolved

to leave nothing untried to turn them from a bent that must end in

irretrievable ruin. I was encouraged too, and urged on to more than a

common effort, by the imploring countenance of the Princess Julia, who, in

that expressive manner, begged me to use all frankness and boldness in my

communications. Otho had, it is true, with great power and unshrinking

fidelity, advocated the cause of peace, and laid bare the true motives to

the war, but still it appeared to me that much might be said by a Roman

and a stranger, that would carry with it more weight than as coming from a

citizen, however loved and respected. To you, my friend, I need enter into

no detail; you will easily imagine what it was, as a Roman, I should urge

upon such an occasion, and in such a presence. I shall always remember

with satisfaction, I am sure, whatever the issue of this difference may

be, my efforts to preserve peace between two nations, whose best interests

must be advanced not by enmity and war, but by the closest alliance of

friendly intercourse.

I was heard with attention and respect, and afterwards with sincerity

thanked, not only by the opposers of the present measures, but by their

advocates also; they were glad to know the worst that could be said

against the cause they had espoused. A brief silence ensued as I ended,

and the eyes of all were instinctively turned upon Zenobia, the ruling

spirit--the maker of the kingdom--its soul--its head--and bright,

peerless crown.

'It was my wish,' said Zenobia, answering the general expectation,

'before the final decision of the senate and the council, to receive from

my friends, in social confidence, a full expression of their feelings,

their opinions, their hopes, and their fears, concerning the present

posture of our affairs. My wish has been gratified, and I truly thank you

all, and not least those my friends--as a philosopher, should I not term

them my best friends?--who, with a generous trust in me and in you who are

on my part, have not shrunk from the duty, always a hard one, of exposing

the errors and the faults of those they love. After such exposure--and

which at more length and with more specification will, I trust, be

repeated in the hearing of the senate and the council--it cannot be said

that I blindly rushed upon danger and ruin, if these await us, or weakly

blundered upon a wider renown, if that, as I doubt not, is to be the event

of the impending contest. I would neither gain nor lose, but as the effect

of a wise calculation and a careful choice of means. Withhold not now your

confidence, which before you have never refused me. Believe that now, as

ever before, I discern with a clear eye the path which is to conduct us to

a yet higher pitch of glory. I have long anticipated the emergency that

has arisen. I was not so ignorant of the history and character of the

Roman people, as to suppose that they would suffer an empire like this,

founded and governed by a woman, to divide long with them the homage of

the world. With the death of the ignoble son of Valerian, I believed would

close our undisputed reign over most of these eastern provinces. Had

Claudius lived, good as he was, he was too Roman in his mould not to have

done what Aurelian now attempts. I prepared then for the crisis which has

come not till now. I am ready now. My armies are in complete discipline;

the city itself so fortified with every art and muniment of war as safely

to defy any power that any nation may array before its walls. But were

this not so; did the embassy of Aurelian take us by surprise and

unprepared; should a people that respects itself, and would win or keep

the good opinion of mankind, tamely submit to requisitions like these? Are

we to dismember our country at the behest of a stranger, of a foreigner,

and a Roman? Do you feel that without a struggle first for freedom and

independence, you could sink down into a mean tributary of all-ingulfing

Rome, and lose the name of Palmyrene? I see by the most expressive of all

language, that you would rather die. Happy are you, my friends, that this

is not your case; you are ready for the enemy; you shall not lose your

name or your renown; and you shall not die. I and my brave soldiers will

at a distance breast the coming storm; your ears shall not so much as hear

its thunder; and at the worst, by the sacrifice of our lives, your and

your country's life shall be preserved.

'I am advised to avert this evil by negotiation, by delay. Does any one

believe that delay on our part will change the time-engendered character

of Rome? If I cease to oppose, will Rome cease to be ambitious? Will fair

words turn aside the fierce spirit of Aurelian from his settled purpose?

Will he--so truly painted by the Roman Piso--who looks to build an undying

name, by bringing back the empire to the bounds that compassed it under

the great Antonines, let slip the glory for a few cities now in hand, and

others promised? or for the purple robe humbly pulled from our young

Cæsars' shoulders? Believe it not. The storm that threatens might be so

warded off perhaps for a day--a month--a year--a reign--but after that it

would come, and, in all reasonable calculation, with tenfold fury. I would

rather meet the danger at its first menace, and thereby keep our good

name,--which otherwise should we not sully or lose?--and find it less too

than a few years more would make it.

'I am charged with pride and ambition. The charge is true, and I glory in

its truth. Who ever achieved any thing great in letters, arts, or arms,

who was not ambitious? Cæsar was not more ambitious than Cicero. It was

but in another way. All greatness is born of ambition. Let the ambition be

a noble one, and who shall blame it? I confess I did once aspire to be

Queen not only of Palmyra, but of the East. That I am. I now aspire to

remain so. Is it not an honorable ambition? Does it not become a

descendant of the Ptolemys and of Cleopatra? I am applauded by you all for

what I have already done. You would not it should have been less. But why

pause here? Is so much ambition praiseworthy, and more criminal? Is it

fixed in nature that the limits of this empire should be Egypt on the one

hand, the Hellespont and the Euxine on the other? Were not Suez and

Armenia more natural limits? Or hath empire no natural limit, but is broad

as the genius that can devise, and the power that can win? Rome has the

West. Let Palmyra possess the East Not that nature prescribes this and no

more. The gods prospering, and I swear not that the Mediterranean shall

hem me in upon the West, or Persia on the East. Longinus is right--I would

that the world were mine. I feel within the will and the power to bless

it, were it so.

'Are not my people happy? I look upon the past and the present, upon my

nearer and remoter subjects, and ask nor fear the answer--whom have I

wronged? what province have I oppressed? what city pillaged? what region

drained with taxes? whose life have I unjustly taken, or estates coveted

or robbed? whose honor have I wantonly assailed? whose rights, though of

the weakest and poorest, have I trenched upon? I dwell where I would ever

dwell, in the hearts of my people. It is writ in your faces, that I reign

not more over you than within you. The foundation of my throne is not more

power than love. Suppose now, my ambition add another province to our

realm? Is it an evil? The kingdoms already bound to us by the joint acts

of ourself and the late royal Odenatus, we found discordant and at war.

They are now united and at peace. One harmonious whole has grown out of

hostile and sundered parts. At my hands they receive a common justice and

equal benefits. The channels of their commerce have I opened, and dug them

deep and sure. Prosperity and plenty are in all their borders. The streets

of our capital bear testimony to the distant and various industry which

here seeks its market. This is no vain boasting--receive it not so, good

friends: it is but truth. He who traduces himself, sins with him who

traduces another. He who is unjust to himself, or less than just, breaks a

law as well as he who hurts his neighbor. I tell you what I am and what I

have done, that your trust for the future may not rest upon ignorant

grounds. If I am more than just to myself, rebuke me. If I have

overstepped the modesty that became me, I am open to your censure, and

will bear it. But I have spoken, that you may know your Queen--not only by

her acts, but by her admitted principles. I tell you then that I am

ambitious--that I crave dominion, and while I live will reign. Sprung from

a line of kings, a throne is my natural seat. I love it. But I strive

too--you can bear me witness that I do--that it shall be, while I sit upon

it, an honored, unpolluted seat. If I can, I will hang a yet brighter

glory round it.

'And as to pride--what if my woman's nature, that nature the gods

implanted and I have received from royal ancestors, loves the pomp and

show of power? What if the pride which dwells in all high natures

gratifies itself in me by planting its feet upon an Indian princess, as

its only fitting footstool, who'--Suddenly at this point of her discourse

the Queen broke off, and advancing from where she stood--she had risen

from her seat in the ardor of her address--greeted with native courtesy

and grace the Roman ambassadors, who, in company with others of their

train, we now saw to enter the apartments.

The company, upon this, again resolved itself into many separate groups,

and returned to such private topics as each one liked, Zenobia devoting

herself to Varro and Petronius.

By and by, at the striking up of music, we moved to another apartment, the

banqueting hall--the same Egyptian room in which I had before partaken

the hospitalities of the Eastern Queen, where tables, set out with the

most lavish magnificence, and bending beneath the most tempting burdens,

awaited our approach. A flood of light was poured from the ceiling, and

reflected back again from the jewelled wine cups and embossed gold of

Demetrius.

But I cannot pretend to describe this sumptuous feast. I will only say,

that the Queen, seated between the Roman ambassadors, gave the evening to

them. And what with the frequent cups in which she pledged them, and the

fascinating charms of her beauty and her conversation, I fear there was

but little of the Roman in them when they rose to depart. In this more

peaceful way has Zenobia won provinces and cities, as well as at the head

of her armies. Farewell.

Letter XI.

From my late letters to Portia, and which without doubt you have before

this read, you have learned with certainty, what I am sure the eye of

Lucilia must before have clearly discerned, my love of the Princess Julia.

I have there related all that it can import my friends to know. The

greatest event of my life--the issues of which, whether they are to crown

me with a felicity the gods might envy, or plunge me in afflictions divine

compassions could not assuage--I have there described with that careful

concern for your fullest information, touching all that befalls me, by

which you will bear me testimony I have been actuated during my residence

in this Eastern capital.

You will not be surprised to learn that my passion is opposed by the

Queen. It was in the same apartment of the palace where I first saw this

wonderful woman, that at a late interview with her, at her command, I was

enjoined to think no more of an alliance with her house.

I was, as you may easily imagine, not a little disturbed in anticipation

of an interview with such a person, on such an occasion. Fausta assured me

that I might rely upon the Queen's generosity, and could look to receive

only the most courteous reception, whatever her decision might be on my

suit. 'I fear greatly for your success,' said she, 'but pray the gods both

for your and the Princess' sake my fears may not come true. Julia lives in

her affections--she cannot like me become part of the world abroad, and

doubly live in its various action. She loves Zenobia indeed with the

truest affection, but she has given her heart to you, Lucius, and

disappointment here would feed upon her very life. She ought not to be

denied. She cannot bear it. Yet Zenobia, devoured by ambition, and holding

so little sympathy with human hearts in their mutual loves--all the world

to them--may deny her, nor ever half conceive the misery she will inflict

upon a being she loves and even reveres. Press your cause, Lucius, with a

manly boldness. The gods succeed you.'

The Queen received me graciously, but with a fixed and almost severe

countenance. She expressed herself obliged to me for the early knowledge

of what otherwise she had not so much as suspected. 'Living myself,' said

she 'far above any dependence upon love for my happiness, I am not prone

to see the affection in others. The love which fastens upon objects

because they are worthy, I can understand and honor. But that mad and

blind passion, which loves only because it will love, which can render no

reason for its existence but a hot and capricious fancy, I have had no

experience of in my own heart, and where I see it I have no feeling for it

but one of disapprobation or contempt. If it be but the beauty of Julia

which has bewitched thy fancy, Roman, amuse thyself with a brief tour of

pleasure, either to Antioch or Alexandria, and other objects will greet

thee, and soon drive her from thy thoughts.'

I assured her that my regard was not of this kind; that indeed her

transcendent beauty had first won me, but that other qualities retained

me; that the bond which held me was as much friendship as love, and I

might say as much reverence as friendship.

'The greater the pity, Roman,' rejoined the Queen in a voice somewhat

stern, but yet melancholy, 'the greater the pity. In truth, I had hoped

thine was but the love of the painted image, and might without pain be

transferred to another, painted but as well. Yet, had I reflected upon the

sentiments I have heard from thee, I might have judged thee nobler. But,

Piso, this must not be. Were I to look only to myself and Julia, I might

well be pleased with a tie that bound us to one whom I have so weighty

reasons to respect and honor. But to do this I have no right. I am not my

own, but the State's. Julia is no daughter of mine, but the property of

Palmyra. Marriage is one of the chief bonds of nations, as of families.

Were it not a crime in me, with selfish regard to my own or my daughter's

pleasure, to bestow her upon a private citizen of whatever worth, when,

espousing her to some foreign prince, a province or a kingdom may be won

or saved?'

'But,' I ventured to remark, 'are the hearts of princes and princesses to

be bartered away for power or territory? are the affections to be bought

and sold? Is the question of happiness to be no question in their case?'

'By no means the principal one. It is not necessarily a sacrifice, but if

necessary the sacrifice must be made. The world envies the lot of those

who sit upon thrones. But the seat is not without its thorns. It seems all

summer with them. But upon whom burst more storms, or charged with redder

fury? They seem to the unreflecting mind to be the only

independent--while they are the slaves of all. The prosperous citizen may

link himself and his children when and with whom he likes, and none may

gainsay him. He has but to look to himself and his merest whim. The royal

family must go and ask his leave. My children are more his than mine. And

if it be his pleasure and preference that my daughters ally themselves to

an Indian or a Roman prince, his will is done, not mine--his is the gain,

mine the loss. And were it just that, when by joining hands though not

hearts two nations could be knit together in amity, the royal house should

refuse the sacrifice? Roman, I live for Palmyra. I have asked of the gods

my children, not for my own pleasure, but for Palmyra's sake. I should

give the lie to my whole life, to every sentiment I have harbored since

that day I gave myself to the royal Odenatus, were I now to bestow upon a

private citizen her, through whom we have so long looked to ally ourselves

by a new and stronger bond to some neighboring kingdom. Julia, Roman--you

have seen her, you know her, you can appreciate her more than human

qualities--Julia is the destined bride of Hormisdas. By her, on Sapor's

death, do we hope to bind together by chains never to be afterward

sundered, Persia and Palmyra, who, then leagued by interest and affection,

may as one kingdom stand up with the more hope against the overwhelming

force of Rome. Were I justified to forego this advantage for any private

reason? Can you doubt, were I not constrained to act otherwise, whether I

should prefer some nobleman of Palmyra, or thee, that so I might ever

dwell within the charmed influence of one, from whom to part will be like

the pang of death?'

'But the princess,'--I again urged.

'That is scarcely a question,' she rejoined. 'She may be a sacrifice; but

it will be upon her country's altar. How many of our brave soldiers, how

many of our great officers, with devoted patriotism throw away their lives

for their country. You will not say that this is done for the paltry

recompense, which at best scarce shields the body from the icy winds of

winter, or the scorching rays of summer. And shall not a daughter of the

royal house stand ready to encounter the hardships of a throne, the

dangers of a Persian court, and the terrors of a royal husband, especially

when by doing so, fierce and bloody wars may be staid, and nations brought

into closer unity? I know but little of Hormisdas; report speaks well of

him. But were it much less that I know, and were report yet less

favorable, it were not enough to turn me from my purpose. Palmyra married

to Persia, through Julia married to Hormisdas, is that upon which I and my

people dwell.'

'Better a thousand times,' I then said, 'to be born to the lot of the

humblest peasant--a slave's is no worse.'

'Upon love's calendar,' said the Queen, 'so it is. But have I not freely

admitted, Roman, the dependency, nay slavery, of a royal house? It would

grieve my mother's heart, I need scarce assure thee, were Julia unhappy.

But grief to me might bring joy to two kingdoms.'

I then could not but urge the claims of my own family, and that by a

more powerful and honored one she could not ally herself to Rome; and

might not national interest be as well promoted by such a bond, as by one

with the remoter East? I was the friend too of Aurelian, much in his

confidence and regard.

Zenobia paused, and was for a few moments buried in thought. A faint

smile for the first time played over her features as she said in reply,

'I wish for your sake and Julia's it could be so. But it is too late.

Rome is resolved upon the ruin of Palmyra--she cannot be turned aside.

Aurelian for worlds would not lose the glory of subduing the East. The

greater need of haste in seeking a union with Persia. Were Sapor dead

to-day, to-morrow an embassy should start for Ecbatana. But think not,

Piso, I harbor ill will toward you, or hold your offer in contempt. A

Queen of the East might not disdain to join herself to a family, whose

ancestors were like yours. That Piso who was once the rival, and in

power--not indeed in virtue--the equal of the great Germanicus, and

looked, not without show of reason, to the seat of Tiberius; and he who

so many years and with such honor reigned over the city its unequalled

governor; and thou the descendant and companion of princes--an alliance

with such might well be an object of ambition with even crowned heads.

And it may well be, seeing the steps by which many an emperor of Rome has

climbed upon his precarious seat, that the coming years may behold thee

in the place which Aurelian fills, and, were I to pleasure thee in thy

request, Julia empress of the world! The vision dazzles! But it cannot

be. It would be sad recreancy to my most sacred duty were I, falling in

love with a dream, to forsake a great reality.'

'I may not then--' I began.

'No, Piso, you may not even hope. I have reasoned with you because I honor

you. But think not that I hesitate or waver. Julia can never be yours. She

is the daughter of the state, and to a state must be espoused. Seek not

therefore any more to deepen the place which you hold in her affections.

Canst thou not be a friend, and leave the lover out? Friendship is a

sentiment worthy godlike natures, and is the true sweetener of the cup of

life. Love is at best but a bitter sweet; and when sweetest, it is the

friendship mingled with it that makes it so. Love, too, wastes away with

years. Friendship is eternal. It rests upon qualities that are a part of

the soul. The witchery of the outward image helps not to make it, nor

being lost as it is with age, can dissolve it. Friendship agrees too with

ambition, while love is its most dreaded rival. Need I point to Antony?

If, Piso, thou wouldst live the worthy heir of thy great name; if thou

wouldst build for thyself a throne in the esteem of mankind, admit

friendship, but bar out love. And I trust to hear that thou art great in

Rome, greater even than thine ancestor Galba's adopted son. Aim at even

the highest, and the arrow, if it reach it not, will hit the nearer. When

thou art Cæsar, send me an embassy. Then perhaps--'

She closed with that radiant smile that subdues all to her will, her

manner at the same time giving me to understand that the conversation was

ended, her own sentence being left playfully unfinished.

I urged not many things which you may well suppose it came into my mind to

do, for I neither wished, nor did I feel as if I had a right, at an hour

of so much public inquietude, to say aught to add to the burden already

weighing upon her. Besides, it occurred to me, that when within so short a

time great public changes may take place, and the relations of parties be

so essentially altered, it was not worth while to give utterance to

sentiments, which the lapse of a brief period might show to have been

unnecessary and unwise. I may also add that the presence of this great

woman is so imposing; she seems, in the very nature and form the gods have

given her, to move so far above the rest of her kind, that I found it

impossible both to say much of what I had intended to say, and to express

what I did say with the ease and propriety which are common to me on

ordinary or other extraordinary occasions. They are few, I believe, who

possess themselves fully in her presence. Even Longinus confesses a

constraint.

'It is even as I apprehended,' said Fausta, as I communicated to her the

result of my interview with the Queen. 'I know her heart to have been set

upon a foreign alliance by marriage with Julia, and that she has been

looking forward with impatience to the time when her daughters should be

of an age to add in this way new strength to the kingdom. I rather hoped

than had faith, that she would listen to your proposals. I thought that

perhaps the earnestness of the princess, with the Queen's strong

affection for her, together with the weight of your family and name,

might prevail. But then I have asked myself, if it were reasonable to

indulge such a hope. The Queen is right in stating as she did her

dependence, in some sort, upon the people. It is they, as well as she,

who are looking forward to this Persian marriage. I know not what

discontents would break out were Hormisdas postponed to Piso--Persia to

Rome. My position, Lucius, I think a sadder one than Zenobia's. I love

Julia as dearly as Zenobia, and you a great deal more than Zenobia does,

and would fain see you happy; and yet I love Palmyra I dare not say how

much--nor that, if by such an act good might come to my country, I could

almost wish that Julia should live in Persia.'

I have within me a better ground of hope than is guessed either by the

Queen or Fausta, but yet can name it not. I mention this to you, and pass

to other things.

* * * * *

The city has to-day been greatly moved, owing to the expected audience of

our ambassadors before the council, and their final answer. The streets

are thronged with multitudes not engaged in the active affairs of traffic,

but standing in larger or smaller crowds talking, and hearing or telling

news, as it arrives from the palace or from abroad.

* * * * *

The die is cast The ambassadors are dismissed. The decision of the council

has been confirmed by the senate, and Varro and Petronius have with their

train departed from the city. War therefore is begun. For it was the

distinct language of the embassy, that no other terms need be proposed,

nor would be accepted, beside those offered by them. None others have been

offered on the part of Palmyra. And the ambassadors have been delayed

rather to avoid the charge of unreasonable precipitancy, than in the

belief that the public mind would incline to or permit any reply more

moderate than that which they have borne back to the emperor.

It is understood that Aurelian, with an army perfectly equipped, stands

waiting, ready to start for Asia on the arrival of the ambassadors or

their couriers. From your last letters I gather as much. How, again I

ask--as I have often asked both myself and the principal persons here--how

is it possible there should be but one issue to this contest? Yet from

language which I heard in the senate, as well as in the private apartments

of the Queen, there is a mad confidence, that after a battle or two on the

outskirts of the kingdom, in which they shall conquer as always

heretofore, an advantageous peace will end the contest. In the senate,

scarce a voice was raised for concession; its mere mention was enough to

bring down the most bitter charges of a want of patriotism, a Roman

leaning, a sordid regard to the interests of commerce over those of honor,

a poor and low-minded spirit. Such as had courage to lift up a warning

voice were soon silenced by the universal clamor of the opposite party;

and although the war was opposed by some of the ablest men in the kingdom,

men inferior to none of those who have come more especially within my

notice, and whom I have named to you, yet it is termed a unanimous

decision, and so will be reported at Rome.

The simple truth is however that, with the exception of these very few,

there is no independent judgment in Palmyra, on great national

questions. The Queen is all in all. She is queen, council and senate.

Here are the forms of a republican deliberation, with the reality of a

despotic will. Not that Zenobia is a despotic prince, in any bad sense

of the term, but being of so exalted a character, ruling with such

equity and wisdom; moreover having created the kingdom by her own

unrivalled energies and genius, it has become the habit of the people to

defer to her in all things; their confidence and love are so deep and

fervent, that they have no will nor power now, I believe, to oppose her

in any measure she might propose. The city and country of Palmyra proper

are her property in as real a sense as my five hundred slaves, on my

Tiburtine farm, are mine. Nor is it very much otherwise with many of the

nearer allied provinces. The same enthusiasm pervades them. Her

watchfulness over their interests, her impartiality, her personal

oversight of them by means of the frequent passages she makes among

them, have all contributed to knit them to her by the closest ties. With

the more remote portions of the empire it is very different, and it

would require the operation of but slight causes to divide from their

allegiance Egypt, Armenia, and the provinces of Asia Minor.

How is not this rashness, this folly, to be deplored! Could the early

counsels of Longinus have been but heeded, all had been well. But he is

now as much devoted to the will and interests of Zenobia as any in the

kingdom, and lends all the energies of his great mind to the promotion of

her cause. He said truly, that he like others is but a slave yoked to her

car. His opinion now is, that no concessions would avail to preserve the

independent existence of Palmyra. The question lies between war and a

voluntary descent to the condition of a Roman province. Nothing less than

that will satisfy the ambition and the pride of Rome. The first step may

be such as that proposed by Varro--the lopping off of the late conquered

provinces, leaving Zenobia the city, the circumjacent territory, and

Syria. But a second step would soon follow the first, and the foot of

Aurelian would plant itself upon the neck of Zenobia herself. This he felt

assured of, both from observation upon the Roman character and history,

upon the personal character of Aurelian, and from private advices from

Rome. He is now accordingly the moving spirit of the enterprise, going

with all his heart and mind into every measure of the Queen.

I am just returned from a singular adventure. My hand trembles as I write.

I had laid down my pen and gone forth upon my Arab, accompanied by Milo,

to refresh and invigorate my frame after our late carousal--shall I term

it?--at the palace. I took my way, as I often do, to the Long Portico,

that I might again look upon its faultless beauty and watch the changing

crowds. Turning from that, I then amused my vacant mind by posting myself

where I could overlook, as if I were indeed the builder or superintendent,

the laborers upon the column of Aurelian. I became at length particularly

interested in the efforts of a huge elephant, who was employed in dragging

up to the foundations of the column, so that they might he fastened to

machines to be then hoisted to their place, enormous blocks of marble. He

was a noble animal, and, as it seemed to me, of far more than common size

and strength. Yet did not his utmost endeavors appear to satisfy the

demands of those who drove him, and who plied without mercy the barbed

scourges which they bore. His temper at length gave way. He was chained to

a mass of rock, which it was evidently beyond his power to move. It

required the united strength of two at least. But this was nothing to his

inhuman masters. They ceased not to urge him with cries and blows. One of

them at length, transported by that insane fury which seizes the vulgar

when their will is not done by the brute creation, laid hold upon a long

lance, terminated with a sharp iron goad, long as my sword, and rushing

upon the beast, drove it into his hinder part. At that very moment the

chariot of the Queen, containing Zenobia herself, Julia, and the other

princesses, came suddenly against the column, on its way to the palace. I

made every possible sign to the charioteer to turn and fly. But it was too

late. The infuriated monster snapped the chains that held him to the

stone, at a single bound, as the iron entered him, and trampling to death

one of his drivers, dashed forward to wreak his vengeance upon the first

object that should come in his way. That, to the universal terror and

distraction of the now scattered and flying crowds, was the chariot of the

Queen. Her mounted guards, at the first onset of the maddened animal,

putting their horses to their speed, by quick leaps escaped. The horses

attached to the chariot, springing forward to do the same, urged by the

lash of the charioteer, were met by the elephant with straightened trunk

and tail, who, in the twinkling of an eye, wreathed his proboscis round

the neck of the first he encountered, and wrenching him from his harness,

whirled him aloft and dashed him to the ground. This I saw was the moment

to save the life of the Queen, if it was indeed to be saved. Snatching

from a flying soldier his long spear, and knowing well the temper of my

horse, I ran upon the monster as he disengaged his trunk from the crushed

and dying Arabian for a new assault, and drove it with unerring aim into

his eye, and through that opening on into the brain. He fell as if a bolt

from heaven had struck him. The terrified and struggling horses of the

chariot were secured by the now returning crowds, and the Queen and the

princesses relieved from the peril which was so imminent, and had blanched

with terror every cheek but Zenobia's. She had stood the while, I was

told--there being no exertion which she could make--watching with eager

and intense gaze my movements, upon which she felt that their safety,

perhaps their lives, depended.

It all passed in a moment. Soon as I drew out my spear from the dying

animal, the air was rent with the shouts of the surrounding populace.

Surely, at that moment I was the greatest, at least the most fortunate,

man in Palmyra. These approving shouts, but still more the few words

uttered by Zenobia and Julia, were more than recompense enough for the

small service I had performed; especially, however, the invitation of

the Queen:

'But come, noble Piso, leave not the work half done; we need now a

protector for the remainder of the way. Ascend, if you will do us such

pleasure, and join us to the palace.'

I needed no repeated urging, but taking the offered seat--whereupon new

acclamations went up from the now augmented throngs--I was driven, as I

conceived, in a sort of triumph to the palace, where passing an hour,

which it seems to me held more than all the rest of my life, I have now

returned to my apartment, and relate what has happened for your

entertainment. You will not wonder that for many reasons my hand trembles,

and my letters are not formed with their accustomed exactness.

Again I am interrupted. What can be the meaning of the noise and running

to and fro which I hear? Some one with a quick, light foot approaches.

It is now night. The palace is asleep, but I take again my pen to tell you

of the accomplishment of the dear object for which I have wandered to this

distant spot. Calpurnius is arrived!

The quick, light foot by which I was disturbed was Fausta's. I knew it,

and sprang to the door. She met me with her bright and glowing countenance

bursting with expression. 'Calpurnius!' said she, 'your brother! is

here'--and seizing my hand drew me to the apartment where he sat by the

side of Gracchus; Isaac, with his inseparable pack, standing near.

I need not, as I cannot, describe our meeting. It was the meeting of

brothers--yet of strangers--and a confusion of wonder, curiosity, vague

expectation, and doubt, possessed the soul of each. I trust and believe,

that notwithstanding the different political bias which sways each, the

ancient ties which bound us together as brothers will again unite us. The

countenance of Calpurnius, though dark and almost stern in its general

expression, yet unbends and relaxes frequently and suddenly, in a manner

that impresses you forcibly with an inward humanity as the presiding

though often concealed quality of his nature. I can trace faintly the

features which have been stamped upon my memory--and the form too--chiefly

by the recollected scene of that bright morning, when he with our elder

brother and venerable parent gave me each a last embrace, as they started

for the tents of Valerian. A warmer climate has deepened the olive of his

complexion, and at the same time added brilliancy to an eye by nature soft

as a woman's. His Persian dress increases greatly the effect of his rare

beauty, yet I heartily wish it off, as it contributes more I believe than

the lapse of so many years to separate us. He will not seem and feel as a

brother till he returns to the costume of his native land. How great this

power of mere dress is upon our affections and our regard, you can

yourself bear witness, when those who parted from you to travel in foreign

countries have returned metamorphosed into Greeks, Egyptians, or Persians,

according to the fashions that have struck their foolish fancies. The

assumed and foreign air chills the untravelled heart as it greets them.

They are no longer the same. However the reason may strive to overcome

what seems the mere prejudice of a wayward nature, we strive in

vain--nature will be uppermost--and many, many times have I seen the

former friend-ships break away and perish.

I could not but be alive to the general justness of the comparison

instituted by Isaac, between Calpurnius and Julia. There are many points

of resemblance. The very same likeness in kind that we so often observe

between a brother and sister--such as we have often remarked in our

nephew and niece, Drusus and Lavinia--whose dress being changed, and they

are changed.

No sooner had I greeted and welcomed my brother, than I turned to Isaac

and saluted him, I am persuaded, with scarcely less cordiality.

'I sincerely bless the gods,' said I, 'that you have escaped the perils of

two such passages through the desert, and are safe in Palmyra. May every

wish of your heart, concerning your beloved Jerusalem, be accomplished. In

the keeping of Demetrius will you find not only the single talent agreed

upon in case you returned, but the two which were to be paid had you

perished. One such tempest upon the desert, escaped, is more and worse

than death itself met softly upon one's bed.'

'Now, Jehovah be praised,' ejaculated Isaac, 'who himself has moved thy

heart to this grace! Israel will feel this bounty through every limb, it

will be to her as the oil of life.'

'And my debt,' said Calpurnius, 'is greater yet, and should in reason be

more largely paid. Through the hands of Demetrius I will discharge it.'

'We are all bound to you,' said Fausta, 'more than words can tell or

money pay.'

'You owe more than you are perhaps aware of to the rhetoric of Isaac,'

added Calpurnius. 'Had it not been for the faithful zeal and cunning of

your messenger in his arguments not less than his contrivances, I had

hardly now been sitting within the walls of Palmyra.'

'But then again, noble Roman,' said Isaac, 'to be honest, I ought to say

what I said not--for it had not then occurred--in my letter to thy

brother, how by my indiscretion I had nearly brought upon myself the

wrath, even unto death, of a foul Persian mob, and so sealed thy fate

together with my own. Ye have heard doubtless of Manes the Persian, who

deems himself some great one, and sent of God? It was noised abroad ere I

left Palmyra, that for failing in a much boasted attempt to work a cure by

miracle upon the Prince Hormisdas, he had been strangled by order of

Sapor. Had he done so, his love of death-doing had at length fallen upon a

proper object, a true child of Satan. But as I can testify, his end was

not such, and is not yet. He still walks the earth, poisoning the air he

breathes, and deluding the souls of men. Him I encountered one day, the

very day I had despatched thy letter, in the streets of Ecbatana, dogged

at the heels by his twelve ragged apostles, dragging along their thin and

bloodless limbs, that seemed each step ready to give way beneath the

weight, little as it was, they had to bear. Their master, puffed up with

the pride of a reformer, as forsooth he holds himself, stalked by at their

head, drawing the admiration of the besotted people by his great show of

sanctity, and the wise saws which every now and then he let drop for the

edification of such as heard. Some of these sayings fell upon my ear, and

who was I, to hear them and not speak? Ye may know that this false prophet

has made it his aim to bring into one the Magian and Christian

superstitions, so that by such incongruous and deadly mixture he might

feed the disciples of those two widely sundered religions, retaining, as

he foolishly hoped, enough of the faith of each to satisfy all who should

receive the compound. In doing this he hath cast dirt upon the religion of

the Jew, blasphemously teaching that our sacred books are the work of the

author of evil, while those of Christ are by the author of good. With more

zeal, it must be confessed, than wisdom, seeing where I was and why I was

there, I resisted this father of lies, and withstood him to his face. 'Who

art thou, bold blasphemer,' I said, 'that takest away the Godhead,

breaking into twain that which is infinite and indivisible? Who art thou

to tread into the dust the faith of Abraham, and Moses, and the prophets,

imputing their words, uttered by the spirit of Jehovah, to the great enemy

of mankind? I wonder, people of Ecbatana, that the thunders of God sleep,

and strike him not to the earth as a rebel--nay, that the earth cleaveth

not beneath him and swalloweth him not up, as once before the rebels

Korah, Dathan, and Abiram;' and much more in the same mad way, till while

I was yet speaking, those lean and hungry followers of his set upon me

with violence, crying out against me as a Jew, and stirring up the people,

who were nothing unwilling, but fell upon me, and throwing me down,

dragged me to a gate of the city, and casting me out as I had been a dead

dog, returned themselves like dogs to their vomit--that accursed dish of

Manichean garbage. I believed myself for a long while surely dead; and in

my half conscious state took shame to myself, as I was bound to do, for

meddling in the affairs of Pagan misbelievers--putting thy safety at risk.

Through the compassion of an Arab woman dwelling without the walls, I was

restored and healed--for whose sake I shall ever bless the Ishmaelite. I

doubt not, Roman, while I lay at the hut of that good woman, thou

thoughtest me a false man?'

'I could not but think so,' said Calpurnius, 'and after the strong desire

of escape which you had at length kindled, I assure you I heaped curses

upon you in no stinted measure.'

'But all has ended well and so all is well,' said Fausta, 'and it was

perhaps too much to expect, Isaac, that you should stand quietly by and

hear the religion of your fathers traduced. You are well rewarded for what

you did and suffered, by the light in which your tribe will now regard

you, as an almost-martyr, and owing to no want of will, or endeavor on

your part, that almost did not end in quite. Hannibal, good Isaac, will

now see to your entertainment.'

'One word if it please you,' said Isaac, 'before I depart. The gentile

despises the Jew. He charges upon him usury and extortion. He accuses him

of avarice. He believes him to subsist upon the very life blood of

whomsoever he can draw into his meshes. I have known those who have firm

faith that the Jew feeds but upon the flesh and blood of Pagan and

Christian infants, whom, by necromantic power, he beguiles from their

homes. He is held as the common enemy of man, a universal robber, whom

all are bound to hate and oppress. Reward me now with your belief,

better than even the two gold talents I have earned, that all are not

such. This is the charity, and all that I would beg; and I beg it of you,

for that I love you all, and would have your esteem. Believe that in the

Jew there is a heart of flesh as well as in a dog. Believe that some

noble ambition visits his mind as well as yours. Credit it not--it is

against nature--that any tribe of man is what you make the Jew. Look upon

me, and behold the emblem of my tribe. What do you see? A man bent with

years and toil; this ragged tunic his richest garb; his face worn with

the storms of all climates; a wanderer over the earth; my home--Piso,

thou hast seen it--a single room, with my good dromedary's furniture for

my bed at night, and my seat by day; this pack my only apparent wealth.

Yet here have I now received two gold talents of Jerusalem!--what most

would say were wealth enough, and this is not the tythe of that which I

possess. What then? Is it for that I love obscurity, slavery, and a

beggar's raiment, that I live and labor thus, when my wealth would raise

me to a prince's state? Or is it that I love to sit and count my hoarded

gains? Good friends, for such you are, believe it not. You have found me

faithful and true to my engagements; believe my word also. You have heard

of Jerusalem, once the chief city of the East, where stood the great

temple of our faith, and which was the very heart of our nation, and you

know how it was beleaguered by the Romans, and its very foundations

rooted up, and her inhabitants driven abroad as outcasts, to wander over

the face of the earth, with every where a country, but no where a home.

And does the Jew, think you, sit down quietly under these wrongs?

Trajan's reign may answer that. Is there no patriotism yet alive in the

bosom of a Jew? Will every other toil and die for his country and not the

Jew? Believe me again, the prayers which go up morning, noon and night,

for the restoration of Jerusalem, are not fewer than those which go up

for Rome or Palmyra. And their deeds are not less; for every prayer there

are two acts. It is for Jerusalem! that you behold me thus in rags, and

yet rich. It is for her glory that I am the servant of all and the scorn

of all, that I am now pinched by the winters of Byzantium, now scorched

by the heats of Asia, and buried beneath the sands of the desert. All

that I have and am is for Jerusalem. And in telling you of myself, I have

told you of my tribe. What we do and are is not for ourselves, but for

oar country. Friends, the hour of our redemption draweth nigh. The

Messiah treads in the steps of Zenobia! and when the East shall behold

the disasters of Aurelian--as it will--it will behold the restoration of

that empire, which is destined in the lapse of ages to gather to itself

the glory and dominion of the whole earth.'

Saying these words, during which he seemed no longer Isaac the Jew, but

the very Prince of the Captivity himself, he turned and took his

departure.

Long and earnest conversation now ensued, in which we received from

Calpurnius the most exact accounts of his whole manner of life during

his captivity; of his early sufferings and disgraces, and his late

honors and elevation; and gave in return similar details concerning the

history of our family and of Rome, during the same period of time. I

will not pretend to set down the narrative of Calpurnius. It was

delivered with a grace which I can by no means transfer to these pages.

I trust you may one day hear it from his own lips. Neither can I tell

you how beautiful it was to see Fausta hanging upon his words, with a

devotion that made her insensible to all else--her varying color and

changing expression showing how deeply she sympathized with the

narrator. When he had ended, and we had become weary of the excitement

of this first interview, Fausta proposed that we should separate to meet

again at supper. To this we agreed.

According to the proposal of Fausta, we were again, soon as evening had

come, assembled around the table of the princely Gracchus.

When we had partaken of the luxuries of the feast, and various lighter

discourse had caused the time to pass by in an agreeable manner, I said

thus, turning to my brother:

'I would, Calpurnius, that the temper of one's mind could as easily be

changed as one's garments. You now seem to me, having put off your Persian

robes, far more like Piso than before. Your dress, though but in part

Roman and part Palmyrene, still brings you nearer. Were it wholly Roman it

were better. Is nothing of the Persian really put off, and nothing of the

Roman put on, by this change?'

'Whatever of the Persian there was about me,' replied Calpurnius, 'I am

free to say I have laid aside with my Persian attire. I was a Persian not

by choice and preference, I need scarcely assure you, but by a sort of

necessity, just as it was with my costume. I could not procure Roman

clothes if I would. I could not help too putting off the Roman--seeing how

I was dealt by--and putting on the Persian. Yet I part with whatever of

the Persian has cleaved to me without reluctance--would it were so that I

could again assume the Roman--but that can never be. But Isaac has already

told you all.'

'Isaac has indeed informed me in his letter from Ecbatana, that you had

renounced your country, and that it was the expectation of war with Rome

that alone had power to draw you from your captivity. But I have not

believed that you would stand by that determination. The days of

republican patriotism I know are passed, but even now under the empire our

country has claims and her children owe her duties.'

'The figure is a common one,' Calpurnius answered, 'by which our country

is termed a parent, and we her children. Allow it just. Do I owe obedience

to an unjust or tyrannical parent? to one who has abandoned me in

helplessness or exposed me in infancy? Are not the natural ties then

sundered?'

'I think not,' I replied; 'no provocation nor injury can justify a

parricidal blow. Our parent is our creator--in some sense a God to us. The

tie that binds us to him is like no other tie; to do it violence, is not

only a wrong, but an impiety.'

'I cannot think so,' he rejoined. 'A parent is our creator, not so much

for our good as his own pleasure. In the case of the gods this is

reversed: they have given us being for our advantage, not theirs. We lie

under obligation to a parent then, only as he fulfils the proper duties of

one. When he ceases to be virtuous, the child must cease to respect. When

he ceases to be just, or careful, or kind, the child must cease to love.

And from whomsoever else then the child receives the treatment, becoming a

parent, that person is to him the true parent. It is idle to be governed

by names rather than things; it is more, it is mischievous and injurious.'

'I still am of opinion,' I replied, 'that nature has ordained what I have

asserted to be an everlasting and universal truth, by the instincts which

she has implanted. All men, of all tribes, have united in expressions of

horror against him who does violence to his parents. And have not the

poets truly painted, when they have set before us the parricide, forever

after the guilty act, pursued by the Furies, and delivered over to their

judicial torments?'