ONESIMUS
Memoirs of a Disciple of St. Paul
“ECCE HOMO” SERIES.
=ECCE HOMO.= A survey of the Life and Work of Jesus Christ. 16mo.
$1.50; a cheaper edition, $1.00.
=ECCE DEUS.= Essays on the Life and Doctrine of Jesus Christ. 16mo.
$1.50.
=PHILOCHRISTUS.= Memoirs of a Disciple of the Lord. 16mo. $1.50.
=ONESIMUS.= Memoirs of a disciple of St. Paul. By the author of
“Philochristus.” 16mo. $1.50.
=PAUL OF TARSUS.= An inquiry into the Times and the Gospel of the
Apostle of the Gentiles. 16mo. $1.50.
ROBERTS BROTHERS,
PUBLISHERS,
BOSTON.
ONESIMUS
MEMOIRS
OF
A DISCIPLE OF ST. PAUL
_BY THE AUTHOR OF “PHILOCHRISTUS”_
Νυνὶ δὲ μένει πίστις, ἐλπίς, ἀγάπη, τὰ τρία ταῦτα· μείζων δὲ
τούτων ἡ ἀγάπη.
BOSTON
ROBERTS BROTHERS
1882
ONESIMUS TO THE READER.
_Art thou a slave, as I was? Or an orphan, as I was? Or wanderest thou
still, as I long wandered, in the wilderness of doubt and sin? Then for
thee is written this story of one that was made free in Christ, and
adopted to be the child of God, and in the end brought safe out of the
deep darkness of Satan into the Light of the Eternal Truth._
THE TABLE.
_THE FIRST BOOK._
Section Page
1 _Of my childhood_, 1
2 _How I first saw the Holy Apostle Paulus_, 3
3 _Of the Stranger, and of Diosdotus the Priest of Zeus_, 6
4 _How we grew up at Lystra_, 10
5 _How Ammiane died, and my brother and I were sold for
slaves_, 12
6 _Of the death of Chrestus_, 15
7 _Of my life in the Ergastulum_, 20
8 _How I was sold to Philemon of Colossæ_, 25
_THE SECOND BOOK._
1 _How I returned to the worship of false Gods_, 29
2 _How some of Philemon’s friends avowed a belief in one God_, 31
3 _How Nicostratus urged that, without the belief in the
Gods, the life of Man would be void of pleasure_, 34
4 _How Philemon, falling sick, inclined to superstition_, 38
5 _How I accompanied Philemon to Pergamus_, 44
6 _How I went down into the cave of Trophonius_, 47
7 _How Artemidorus spoke against the belief in Gods_, 52
8 _How I journeyed with Philemon to Antioch in Syria_, 58
_THE THIRD BOOK._
1 _Of my first thoughts concerning the Christians_, 64
2 _Of the Doctrine of the Christians_, 68
3 _How Artemidorus questioned me further concerning the
Christians_, 75
4 _How the Christians honored the Prophets of the Jews_, 83
5 _Of the ancient Histories of the Jews_, 90
6 _How Artemidorus questioned me further, and of his
relation concerning the casting out of the swine_, 95
7 _Of the Traditions of the Christians, and of the nature of
Christus_, 101
8 _Of the rising of Christus from the dead_, 109
9 _How Artemidorus bade me cease from further enquiry_, 113
10 _How I stumbled at the Threshold of the Door, and went
not in_, 114
_THE FOURTH BOOK._
1 _How we came to Athens_, 121
2 _How Artemidorus rebuked me, supposing that I was in
danger of becoming a Christian_, 123
3 _Of my reply to Artemidorus_, 128
4 _Of Eucharis, and of my life at Athens_, 132
5 _How I returned to Colossæ, and of my new life with
Philemon_, 138
6 _Concerning my visit to Epictetus_, 144
7 _How I tried the philosophy of Epictetus_, 150
8 _How I was accused of theft by the devices of Pistus_, 154
9 _How Epictetus further explained his philosophy_, 157
10 _Of Metrodorus and his advice_, 163
11 _ Of the death of Eucharis, and how I was again accused
of theft_, 170
_THE FIFTH BOOK._
1 _How I escaped from the house of Philemon_, 176
2 _Of my life at Pergamus_, 182
3 _How I came to Corinth and saw the tomb of Eucharis_, 185
4 _How I saw the Holy Apostle Paulus, but knew him not_, 189
5 _How I learned that Paulus was the Prophet that I had
seen in my childhood, the same that had cured lame
Xanthias_, 194
6 _How I was led into the net of the Gospel_, 199
_THE SIXTH BOOK._
1 _Of the teaching of Paulus_, 207
2 _How I returned to Philemon at Colossæ_, 211
3 _Of my discourse with Artemidorus concerning the Faith_, 214
4 _Of the doubtings of Artemidorus_, 217
5 _Of the last words and death of Artemidorus_, 223
_THE SEVENTH BOOK._
1 _How I came to Rome to see the blessed Apostle_, 226
2 _How I saw Paulus in prison_, 229
3 _How Paulus related to me the story of his life_, 232
4 _How Paulus consented to the death of the blessed Martyr
Stephanus_, 238
5 _How the Lord appeared to Paulus_, 243
6 _How Paulus was prepared for the preaching of the Gospel_, 247
7 _The last words of Paulus_, 251
_THE EIGHTH BOOK._
1 _Of the death of Nero, and how Rome was divided against
itself_, 257
2 _Of the Jewish faction_, 260
3 _Of Menahem, the Ebionite_, 263
4 _How the Church was guided at this time by the Spirit of God_, 265
5 _How I came to Philochristus, a Disciple of the Lord in
Britain_, 269
6 _Of the Church in Rome, and concerning the New Gospels_, 273
7 _How I labored in the Church of Berœa_, 280
8 _The last words of Philochristus_, 283
9 _Of my journey to Smyrna, and how the Lord hath helped
me, even to the end_, 288
10 _An Addition, by the elders of the Church of Smyrna, concerning
the Passion of the Blessed Martyrs, Trophimus
and Onesimus_, 293
_The discourse of Lucius of Cyrene, (omitted from the Third
Book)_, 296
ONESIMUS.
THE FIRST BOOK.
§ 1. OF MY CHILDHOOD.
In the last year of the Emperor Tiberius I and my twin-brother Chrestus
were found lying in one cradle, exposed with a great number of other
babes upon the steps of the temple of Asclepius, in Pergamus, a city
of Bithynia. Sign or token of our parents, whether they were free-born
or slave, there was none; but only a little silver seal hung round my
neck, and on the seal these words in Greek characters, I LOVE THEE,
and on my brother Chrestus another of the same fashion, bearing the
inscription, TRUST ME. Many a time during the days of my wanderings
have I spoken reproachfully in my heart, saying that our parents gave
us small cause for trust, and that it was poor love to send out into
the rough world two innocent babes with no other equipment against evil
than these slight toys. But the hand of the Lord was in it, to turn
this evil into good in the end.
Ammiane the wife of Menneas was the name of our new mother. Her own son
Ammias was but lately dead; and that which drew her kind heart to us
more than to any other among so large a multitude of poor babes there
pitifully lying on the temple steps, was that in my brother Chrestus
she seemed to discern a likeness to her lost one.
Menneas took us, together with Ammiane, to his house in Lystra, a
city of Lycaonia, where was the better part of his estate; and soon
afterwards he died. But his widow the good Ammiane, to whom old Menneas
had left all his possessions, treated us as if we had been her own
children, and taught us to call her mother; and we had no thought but
she was our mother indeed. Yet as there had been no formal adoption of
us according to law, we were still in the eyes of the law not free,
but slaves; for so runs the law, that whosoever is exposed as a child
and saved and reared, becomes the slave of them that rear him. For
our enfranchisement had been first delayed, and then forgotten in the
sickness and death of Menneas; and by that time we were so established
in the household that none questioned but we had been enfranchised, and
all thought of it was laid aside. Therefore, according to the law we
were still Ammiane’s slaves, and not her sons, and in danger to be sold
whenever our dear foster-mother might die. But of all this neither I
nor my brother Chrestus knew anything; but we rejoiced in the love of
her whom we called mother; and all the household loved us for her sake,
and some for our own. And so the days rolled on in happiness till I had
come to my tenth year.
§ 2. HOW I FIRST SAW THE HOLY APOSTLE PAULUS.
It was in the spring, as I remember, of the fifth year of the Emperor
Claudius that I first saw the Holy Apostle, whom I saw not again till
many years had passed away; and though I was at that time but a child
of ten years or thereabouts, yet every circumstance of it is imprinted
upon my memory. It was the cool of the evening, and I was without the
wall, hard by the Iconian gate, on one of the smaller hills that look
down upon the town, a little to the north of the Iconian road. Hermas,
our herdsman, was playing upon his pipe some song to the god Pan, and
the goats were gambolling around him. But I—being wholly taken up with
teaching a little kid to dance to the sound of the music—paid no heed
to the chidings of our nurse Trophime, who would have had me go back
with her to the city because it was now near sun-down. So lifting up
her eyes and seeing some dromedaries and a dust on the Iconian road,
“Look, dear child,” said she, “yonder come merchants from Iconium; if,
therefore, thou wilt go with me without delay, thou wilt see their
stores of pretty things, and perchance Ammiane will buy thee somewhat.”
Hearing this, I willingly ran down with her to the city gate; and
arriving thither before the travellers, I waited till they should
enter. But when they were now nigh, I perceived that they were no
merchants, and I would have turned away. Yet I did not, for somewhat
in the face of one of the travellers held me fast, I know not how, so
that I fixed my gaze on him perforce, even as a bird fascinated by a
serpent; and indeed I thought myself to be bewitched and spat thrice;
but yet I stood still gazing upon him. At that time he was not yet
bald, he had a clear complexion, a nose hooked and somewhat large;
he was short of stature, and as he walked he bent his head a little
forward, as if not able to discern things clearly; his eyebrows were
shaggy and met together; but what most moved me was the glance of his
eyes which were of a penetrating brightness, as though they would
pierce through the outside of things even to the innermost substance.
When the travellers were entered into the city, I stood still in
wonder, as one who had seen a dream, betwixt sleeping and waking. But
soon, coming to myself again, I chid my nurse that she had drawn me
away from the flocks by stratagem and I persuaded her to return for
some short space, that I might continue my sport. But my heart was no
longer in it, and presently, it being now sunset, I came down with
Trophime to go into the town. Scarce were we come within the gates when
we perceived a great concourse of the people near to the market; and
running thither we entered with the rest into a courtyard and there
found a great multitude assembled, and the travellers, in the gallery
above, discoursing to them. What touched me (as being a child) more
than all the words that were spoken, was the marvellous stillness of
the multitude, who all listened as if the speech were about matters
of life or death, so that herdsmen and ploughmen and litter-bearers
and water-carriers and others of the lowest and meanest sort; coming
into the courtyard with shouts and scoffings, no sooner passed into
the circle of the hearers than they were at once subdued and tamed
like the rest; among whom, most earnestly listening, as I noted, was a
poor creature, part demented and part buffoon, whom, having been lame
for thirty years and more, we were wont to call “lame Xanthias.” This
man, when the traveller had made an end of his discourse, said some
words that I could not clearly understand; whereupon he that had been
speaking came straightway down from the gallery and drew nigh to the
lame man, and fixing his eyes upon him he took him by the hand. If
there had been a silence before, there was a tenfold silence now, even
such a silence as one seemed to feel in one’s flesh. But the stranger
first lifted up his eyes to heaven and then gazing fixedly on the
lame man he cried in a loud voice, “In the name of Jesus of Nazareth,
rise up and walk;” and behold, Xanthias,—this man who had been thirty
years lame,—rose and walked and leaped, and wept aloud praising and
magnifying God. Then there was a great shouting, and all rushed forth
into the market place, some crying “a miracle,” “a miracle,” others
holding up Xanthias in their arms to show him unto the people, others
magnifying the new god whom the strangers had revealed to us, others
crying out that the strangers themselves were gods, namely Zeus and
Hermes, come down from heaven as they had come down in the old days;
and saying these things, some sped away to the priest wishing to offer
sacrifice to the strangers. But suddenly there was a deep silence
again, and we perceived that the traveller, he I mean who had healed
Xanthias, was once more speaking to the people. What he said I could
not clearly understand, being more busy with noting his countenance
than the meaning of his words; but I gathered so much, that he said
that he and his companion were not gods but men, and that indeed there
was One God above (not many gods) who gave all good gifts to mankind
and who now called all men to come unto him. When he had made an end of
speaking, the women pressed close to him with their babes and children
that he might touch them; and so it was that Trophime pushed me forward
with the rest. Then he laid his hands on me and looking kindly on me
asked Trophime whether I was a native of these parts and who was my
father. What Trophime replied I did not hear, except that my father was
now dead; but the stranger looked on me more lovingly than before and
said, “The Lord be unto thee as a Father, little one;” and laying his
hands on me a second time he blessed me.
§ 3. OF THE STRANGER, AND OF DIOSDOTUS THE PRIEST OF ZEUS.
When we were come home to Ammiane, I spoke freely to her as I was wont,
concerning all that I had heard and seen; and I asked her which of
the two she judged to be the wiser and the mightier, the hook-nosed
prophet—for so I called the stranger—or Diosdotus. Now Diosdotus
was the priest of the city, a man of noble birth and very wealthy,
having rebuilt the baths at his own expense after the earthquake, as
also his father before him had rebuilt the amphitheatre. He was also
tall of stature and of a gracious and commanding carriage. Yet now
I could not help making comparison between him and the stranger of
mean presence and short stature; bethinking myself that Diosdotus had
lived for thirty years in the same city as poor lame Xanthias and yet
had suffered him to be still lame, whereas the strange prophet had
healed him on the very day of his first coming in. However Ammiane
laughed and chid me for my question, saying that I did ill to compare
an obscure vagrant soothsayer with the high priest of Zeus; for that
there were many travelling priests of Cybele and Sabazius and jugglers
and necromancers that would work signs and wonders in the eyes of the
common people, and all for a drachma or two; but Diosdotus was none
of these, nor to be mentioned along with them. Nevertheless, when the
report came in from all sides that the lame man was wholly cured, she
said she would send for Xanthias, as soon as might be, that she might
see him and learn the truth of the matter, and what charms or herbs
the stranger had used. But about the fourth or fifth day afterwards—my
foster-mother having in the meanwhile, upon one cause or other, delayed
to send for Xanthias, but many rumors coming daily to our ears of the
great wonders which the magician was working—word was brought that
the stranger had been slain; others said that he had ascended to the
sky, others that he had been swallowed up in the earth; but all agreed
that he was not now in the city. Then we found that there had been a
great conflict in the Jews’ quarter; for certain Jews had come over
from Lystra to Iconium pursuing after the enchanter (so they called
him) and accusing him of many grievous crimes. Now it happened to be a
time of drought, and the rain, which had begun to fall on the day that
the stranger came to Lystra, ceased on that same day, about the time
of his entering in, and fell no more for six or seven days, though all
the crops were perishing for want of it. So the Jews said that this
plague was fallen upon the city of Lystra because we gave shelter to
an accursed necromancer; and having persuaded the people they stoned
him. But his body could not be found; wherefore the people were the
more persuaded that he was a necromancer, insomuch that all now (except
Xanthias and a very few others) believed him to be no prophet but an
evil-doer and a deceiver of the people.
But on the very day after these things the sun was darkened, and still
no rain fell; and on the third day after the stoning of the stranger,
came a great plague of locusts so thick together that they lay two
inches deep in the racecourse; and not many days after that, came the
shock of an earthquake; and ten houses in the Jews’ quarter were wholly
thrown down (besides others sorely shaken and shattered), insomuch that
some fourscore of the Jews were slain, and their synagogue was utterly
destroyed. Upon this the people began to change their minds again, and
some made bold to say that the god of the new prophet had sent these
evils; and so the city was divided, and part held that the stranger was
a deceiver and an enchanter, but part that he was a teacher of the
true God and a prophet. At last when the customary sacrifices seemed of
no avail, but the drought still endured, and by intervals there came
ever and anon shocks of earthquake, it seemed good that there should
be a solemn procession of all the city to avert the wrath of the gods,
one for Pessinuntian Cybele, the other for Asphalian Poseidon and the
third for Zeus Panhemerius. This last far surpassed the other two in
splendor, and amidst the whole procession most of all to be admired was
Diosdotus the chief priest, himself most like to a god, clad in white
linen with a purple border, and a garland on his head, and attended by
the inferior priests, and by ministers bearing incense and scattering
flowers and perfumes; and after them, the white oxen with their horns
gilt for the sacrifice, and then the choir of boys, with laurel
branches in their hands, singing, to the accompaniment of the lyre, the
hymn which had been chosen by Onomarchus, the secretary of the senate.
Beholding all this splendor (exceeding anything I had ever before
witnessed) I inclined now to prefer Diosdotus to the strange prophet;
and all the more because Ammiane was clearly on the side of the former.
Moreover on the second day after the procession there fell rain in
abundance. So all the people now turned to magnify Zeus Panhemerius;
and the drought and the earthquake were forgotten, and with them the
memory of the stranger faded away.
Yet in my dreams sometimes, both then and for many months afterwards,
methought I saw the strange prophet who had healed Xanthias, standing
over against Diosdotus and contending against him; and I heard his
voice again and again in the darkness, saying, “The Lord be unto thee
as a father.”
§ 4. HOW WE GREW UP AT LYSTRA.
Six or seven years passed smoothly away for me and my brother Chrestus.
Our dear mother Ammiane caused us to be taught singing and dancing, as
well as riding and the exercises of the gymnasium; and partly because
of our beauty and partly because we were regarded as the adopted
children of one whom all the citizens loved and honored (for there
are still extant inscriptions in Lystra praising our benefactress and
calling her the MOTHER OF THE CITY, on account of her many gifts and
benefactions to the people of Lystra) we were chosen among the choir
of boys who were to sing songs year by year in honor of Apollo and
Ephesian Artemis in accordance with the recent decree of the senate;
and in all our riding-lessons and wrestling-lessons we took part with
the well-born youth of the city; for all knew that Ammiane intended us
to be her heirs after her death. But in my fourteenth year it happened
that, while seeking for a goat that had strayed in the mountains, I
missed my footing and fell down a steep place, where I was taken up
for dead; and Hermas brought me home wounded well-nigh to death with
two deep gashes on my forehead and left cheek. In a short space I was
recovered of my wounds; but I was grievously disfigured with the scars
upon my face, and when I went with my brother, as I was wont, to the
choir-master, he plainly told me that I was no longer fit to dance nor
sing with the choir, for the god required comely youths to minister to
him. Hereat I was sore vexed, and yet more when I perceived (or thought
that I perceived) that in the palæstra also and in the riding-school
I was no longer so welcome as of old; for some openly jested at
my disfigurement, and others, who had before courted my company,
now avoided me; at least so I thought, misconstruing perhaps and
aggravating little slights, in my discontent. However it was, I became
morose and lost my former cheerfulness; for the world seemed changed
and turned against me. But the kind Ammiane, discerning what was amiss
with me, persuaded me to apply myself to letters; and she bought for
us one Zeno, a Greek, to be our tutor. Now Chrestus, being the leader
of the choir and the favorite in the palæstra, by reason of these
distractions cared less for learning; but I, withdrawing myself from
my former pursuits and devoting myself to letters, made good progress
in my new studies, so that I soon became skilful at transcribing Greek
characters; and I took a great delight in the reading of Euripides
and others of the Greek play-writers, but most of all in the poetry
of Homer. And in these pursuits I continued till my sixteenth year,
finding pleasure in many things but most of all in the love of my
beautiful brother Chrestus.
§ 5. HOW AMMIANE DIED AND MY BROTHER AND I WERE SOLD FOR SLAVES.
But now indeed our trouble was at hand. For toward the end of my
sixteenth year, our dear foster-mother died, and whether it was that
she had made no will, or that the will had been stolen or lost,
certain it was that no will could be found. It was commonly said,
in the household, that a will had been made and deposited with one
Tertullus, a banker of Iconium, but that he had destroyed the will,
being persuaded by Nicander of Tyana, the heir-at-law, and the two
witnesses being both dead. Diosdotus the high-priest of Zeus affirmed
that Ammiane had deposited a will with him fourteen years ago in
the presence of two witnesses, immediately after the death of her
husband, but that she had received it back in the presence of the same
witnesses, two years afterwards, and had deposited no other will in
its place. Whatever the truth may have been, when Nicander arrived on
the second day from Tyana, there was none to dispute his claim; so,
though he was known by all to be hateful to Ammiane and had not set
foot on her threshold for fifteen years, he now took upon himself to
give orders for the funeral and to dispose all things according to
his pleasure. Hereupon arose a great wailing and lamentation among
the household, that is to say all that were old enough to know what
it was to be a slave. For many of them had looked to be made free by
Ammiane’s will; and to some she had in express terms promised freedom:
and others, who had not been long with us, knowing the kindness of
their mistress, expected that they should not be sold, or that after
four or five years of service they should be made free. For so much as
this was customary with all the wealthy townspeople of Lystra, those at
least that had large possessions in land and many household slaves; and
how much more might have been expected from one who had been publicly
praised as the “mother of the city!” But now all these hopes were
dashed to the ground; and all were at the mercy of a new master, of
whom we knew nothing by hearsay except that he hated our dear mistress,
and from our own knowledge we had begun to suspect that he was greedy,
cruel, violent and tyrannous.
For a few hours Chrestus and I remained weeping bitterly in the room
where we were wont to sit with Zeno; but when Nicander entered and,
in answer to his question why we wept, we made answer that we were
weeping for our mother, he reviled us as beggarly brats, slaves seeking
to escape from our condition; and spurning us from the chamber bade
us be gone at once to the slaves’ apartments. Going thither we found
all faces full of sorrow; yet none so sorrowful as not to be able to
spare some little further sorrow for our case; all pointing to us and
exclaiming at our ill fortune because yesterday we had been free and
heirs to great possessions, but now we were slaves and a second time
motherless.
I suppose that our cruel master foresaw that some of the friends of
Ammiane would, in all likelihood, interfere in our behalf, if not by
appeal to the courts of law, at all events by offering to purchase
us from him; for he gave command that on that very day, immediately
after the performance of the funeral rites, we should be sent to his
estate at Tyana. A miserable procession was that, wherein Chrestus and
I walked for the last time together, following our dear Ammiane to
the grave! The whole household filled the air with lamentations, for
themselves even more than for their mistress, so that there was little
need of the hired mourners.
But when all was over, and the funeral line moved back homeward,
Chrestus and I for a short space turned quietly aside and betook
ourselves to a new-made tomb cut in the side of one of the hills that
look down upon the city; and there we sat down and wept and poured
forth all our sorrows in one another’s arms, beseeching the gods to
have mercy upon us. For we began to see that we could expect no pity
from Nicander, and that he would not hesitate to sell us and to part us
asunder if he could thereby make more profit from us; and our hearts
swelled to bursting at the thought that we, who had never been divided,
should now perchance be parted, each to live lonely and desolate to our
life’s end. As we wept, we looked down upon our dear home. The fields
beneath us had been the fields of Ammiane; we could call by name the
sheep and goats that were leaping and bleating in the valley at our
feet; the temples in which we had worshipped, the shining roofs of the
houses of many well-known friends—all reminded us of past happy days,
happy most of all because we had enjoyed them together. At last we
rose up to go down to our new life of slavery. But because our minds
misgave us that we should be parted on the morrow, we determined
to take our last farewell there alone, and not in the presence of
Nicander, nor before the eyes of the household slaves. And Chrestus
said that we should interchange some token, whereby we might recognize
each other in days to come, if ever the gods should bring us together
again. So we took from off our necks the charms which we had always
worn from our infancy, and I received from Chrestus his seal with the
inscription TRUST ME, and he mine with the words I LOVE THEE. Then we
bade one another farewell, no longer able to constrain ourselves, but
with piercing cries falling each on the other’s neck and weeping and
calling on Ammiane to help us because the gods helped us not; and then,
drying our tears, without another word we went down into Lystra. Here
Nicander, rating us for our delay, gave command that we should be at
once placed on separate camels and set out for Tyana.
§ 6. OF THE DEATH OF CHRESTUS.
On the third day after we were come to Tyana, being summoned to the
presence of Nicander, we found with him certain of Ammiane’s household
slaves, and by the side of our master a smooth-faced Greek from Delos
who seemed to be inspecting and appraising the slaves; who, looking at
my scar, laughed and said that he should not need to ask Nicander to
name a price for me; but he praised the beauty of Chrestus and caused
him to be stripped and to walk up and down the room, and to sing and to
go through the steps of two or three dancing-measures; and finally he
declared with an oath that he was more beautiful than Nireus, and that
he would buy him at Nicander’s price. When we heard this, we both of us
fell down at the feet of Nicander and of the slave-dealer, beseeching
them in the name of their parents and their brothers also, if they had
any, that at least they would not part us, but that the Greek might buy
us both; and at the same time I told the slave-dealer that I could read
and write Greek easily and rapidly, so that I might fetch a good price
as an amanuensis and even the rest of the slaves of Ammiane fell on
their faces before our master and joined in our petition.
But Nicander angrily spurned us, and the Greek said to Chrestus that
he must go to Rome where he would fetch ten times as much as a paltry
amanuensis or grammarian because he was as lovely as Ganymede and sure
to please some great nobleman or perchance the Emperor himself; but
added he, “Your brother is of no worth to me, for I deal in none but
pretty boys; and therefore, my beautiful one, thou must needs make
ready to be my companion at once, for I should be by this time well on
the road to Tarsus.” Hereat Chrestus arose and following the Greek, his
master, he would have gone forth without a word more, from the chamber.
Nicander, scoffing at his misery, called him back to say farewell to
me, “for,” said he, “it may be some time before you see your brother
again.” But Chrestus remained silent; only, as he went out at the door,
he turned round to me and held up the little token round his neck. But
that silence was better than many words, and the memory of it abides
with me unto this day.
So long as Chrestus was in the chamber I restrained myself for his
sake lest I should break his heart with my weeping and passion; but
when he was gone forth I again attempted to bend Nicander with prayers
and entreaties. But finding all in vain, I leaped up from the ground in
fury, and invoked curses upon him, threatening that I would slay him
if ever I found occasion. At the word he clapped his hands and calling
in the slaves of his household, “Take this young rebel,” he said, “to
the upper quarries, and put him to hard labor with the lowest class,
till the brat understand his condition, and learn to be a slave and
submit himself to his betters.” So while Chrestus was being carried
away to Tarsus, I was dragged to the quarries, which were in a wild
place, void for miles round of all human habitation, about twenty miles
north of Tyana. In these quarries there labored a large gang of slaves,
with scant food and scanter clothing, forced to work in chains under
the burning sun all day, and at night locked up like sheep in a foul
den under ground; and if any died, little heed was taken of it, for it
was cheaper to buy new slaves than to treat the old slaves well. But
I doubt not that Nicander, who had good reasons for wishing to be rid
of my brother and me, did what he did wittingly and with forethought,
supposing that I should soon have succumbed to the hardships of the
place and the life, and that the quarries should have been my grave and
his deliverance.
On the morrow I began my labors amid a new sort of companions,
creatures to all outward appearance resembling apes and dogs rather
than human beings, some stamped and branded on their foreheads with T
for “thief,” or M for “murderer”; others having their backs discolored
with the weals of the lash or torn and bleeding with the marks of fresh
punishment; others with collars round their necks, or clogs and fetters
shackling their legs and feet; others laboring beast-like under a kind
of fork or yoke; all were chained in some fashion, and all had one
side of the head shorn, so that they might be recognized at once if
they should break away and escape any distance. Speech was not allowed
among us; and as we toiled on from sunrise to sunset amid the heated
rocks, the only sounds that could be heard (beside the clinking of the
tools upon the stone) were the threats and curses of the overseers and
the crack of the whip followed by the scream of some stricken slave.
All the more leisure was there for thought of Chrestus, whose fate was
infinitely worse than mine, because he was to go to Rome and there to
be sold for his beauty; and I knew well the saying of the philosopher
that “What is counted impurity in the free-born must be counted a
necessity in slaves.” Thinking on these things I felt such an agony
that neither the heat nor the parching thirst could be compared with
it; and even the first feeling of the slave-whip upon my shoulders,
though it maddened me for the moment, could not drive out the thought
of Chrestus. But hatred and thirst for revenge and distrust of the gods
began to blend themselves with my love of my brother; and whereas at
first I had prayed to Ephesian Artemis to preserve him, now I began to
doubt whether prayers availed anything.
I had been scarce a week in the ergastulum when, as we came forth in
the morning to be marshalled and numbered, according to our wont,
before going to our several places in the quarries, I heard the voice
of Hermas behind me giving some message to Syrus our overseer. But when
I leaped forward to embrace him, he spoke roughly to me, calling me a
fool and a rebel, and saying that he would have no speech with me till
I had submitted myself to the worthy Nicander. I shrank back quickly to
my place, feeling myself friendless indeed now that Hermas had turned
against me. By this time we were on our way from the ergastulum to the
quarries, and I with the rest in my place in the rear. But when the
crack of Syrus’s whip showed that he was at some distance in the front
of the long column, I heard my name called in a low voice and Hermas
was by my side. He told me in few words that he had accompanied the
slave-dealer to Tarsus, but that on the way Chrestus, either slipping
or casting himself down in a narrow and precipitous part of the road,
had fallen down a high cliff and had been taken up sorely gashed and
wounded, and within two or three hours afterwards he had died. In my
heart I knew that Hermas spoke the truth, but I refused to believe his
tale, saying that he was in league with Nicander to deceive me; else,
why had not he brought some token? But the old man with tears in his
eyes, declared that he would have brought me the charm that hung round
my brother’s neck, but one of the slaves had stolen it; however, in
his last moments Chrestus had written some message on his tablets for
me; and so saying he produced the tablets which I knew to be indeed
my brother’s. Now all my hopes fell, and I knew that I was alone in
the world; yet could I neither speak nor weep but walked on without
a sign; but the old man looking anxiously in my face bade me trust
in him, and seeing Syrus approach, he pressed my hand and departed.
For almost all that day the overseer—perchance because he suspected
something amiss, having caught sight of Hermas stealing away—would
not depart from my neighborhood but kept his eyes so fixed on me that
I dared not stop my work for an instant to pluck the tablets from
my bosom where I had thrust them; and what I did I knew not, but I
could neither think, nor weep, nor do anything but toil on, like some
machine. But toward sun-down, a little before we were marshalled that
we might go down into the ergastulum, seizing my occasion I plucked out
the tablets and upon the first leaf of them I found traced in faint
characters, as if by a feeble hand, the words on the token which I had
given him, I LOVE THEE; and when I read them, the tears delayed no
longer.
§ 7. OF MY LIFE IN THE ERGASTULUM.
If it was a marvel that my body held out against the hardships of the
quarries, it was much more marvellous that my soul perished not. Nor
do I speak now merely of the words and deeds of darkness wrought by
the slavish herd in their underground den, from which the grace of the
Lord preserved me; but I speak of the trust in any divine governance
of the world which seemed at this time to be in danger to be utterly
extinguished, or even to be replaced by a belief in evil. For not only
was I becoming day by day more like a brute beast in mind and soul
as well as in body, listening with less horror to the obscene jests
and tales of my companions and learning to take all evil as matter
of course and to expect no good in the world; but also I began to
think that, if there were gods indeed, they could not be such as the
Epicureans would have us believe, “idle gods that take no thought for
mortals,” but they must be bad gods to have made, and to endure, so bad
a world.
Now I knew that Ammiane had believed in witches and necromancers and
the like; yea, and even Zeno our tutor, though he were a philosopher
and of the Stoic sect, had freely confessed that he himself would be
unwilling to be persecuted with the charms and incantations of witches.
As often therefore as my companions turning from their obscenities and
filthy tales, began to tell of witchcraft (which they were wont to do
more especially after earthquakes, when they were under some influence
of fear) and stories about Empousæ and blood-sucking monsters, and
the raising of spectres and the drawing out of the hearts of living
men, at such times I would give an eager ear to all their sayings; and
although Zeno had taught me to believe that these superstitions of the
common people were no better than old wives’ fables, yet now I began to
incline to the opinion that these stories were true. And in my present
condition the gods of darkness, such as Hecate and Gorgo and the like,
seemed to have more substance and real power than the greater gods Zeus
and Poseidon, who were worshipped in processions by noble priests in
fine raiment with perfumes and flowers and offerings of fat victims,
but did nothing for their worshippers. When therefore I heard how one
witch had drawn forth oracles from a little babe whose throat she had
cut and enslaved its spirit; and how another had obtained vengeance
over her enemies by means of the marrow of a child whom she had buried
up to the midst in the ground and then left to starve in sight of
abundance of food; and others had caused their enemies to pine away by
making waxen images to be pierced with needles or melted at slow fires,
and the like; then came the thought of Nicander in my mind, thus caused
to waste away and to live without a heart and suddenly to drop down
dead, and I prayed that I too might learn these mysteries.
One evening more especially I call to mind, when we had been driven
earlier than usual to our dungeon because of a great storm and
earthquake, and all the earth seemed in a flux—the crags from the
hillsides falling on this side and on that, and whole cliffs swaying to
right and left as if we were on sea and not on solid earth—and nine or
ten of my companions had been already crushed by the rocks or by the
falling in of the sides of the quarries. When we were thrust into our
dungeon, sitting in darkness, we could still feel the ground moving
beneath us and ever and anon such rockings and rumblings as made the
more timid cry out that some gulf would open and swallow us up alive,
others, that the sides and roof were falling in upon us. But, of a
sudden, amidst the din and tumult of so many voices, a few weeping,
but the most part shouting and yelling and blaspheming and cursing
the gods, we heard one of the slaves speaking out clearly above all
the rest and commanding silence. His name was Nannias, a Colchian by
birth; and he bade us desist from our fears and take heart, “for,” said
he, “I myself have brought about this storm and earthquake, and as I
hope, we shall soon learn that our master has miserably perished in it.”
Then all held their peace and listened to the Colchian, who continued
thus: “From my earliest years I was instructed by an old witch (who
bought me as a babe) in all the arts of magic; and from her I learned
how to raise the winds and how to lull them, and how to make away with
a man though he be miles distant, in such wise that none may know the
causer of the mischief. From my infancy I have ever taken a delight in
all evil. For why not? The cross has been the tomb to all my brothers,
my father and my grandfather; nor will I degenerate from my ancestors.
The world is against us; let us also be against the world.” At this
all shouted in assent; but the Colchian impatiently continued, “My
master in Laodicea I destroyed by placing bones and blood, and nails
from a cross, together with certain herbs which I will not now mention,
beneath the floor of his bedchamber, so that he wasted away and died in
less than a month to the astonishment of the physician. And what was
best and sweetest of all, I caused the suspicion of the deed to fall
on the overseer of the slaves, a tyrannical wretch like Syrus, who was
condemned to the wild beasts on the charge of having made away with our
master by slow poisons.” Hereat all shouted and applauded even louder
than before; and then though the earth still rocked and groaned beneath
us, and the sides of the ergastulum swayed in and out more violently
than ever, yet every one sat silent in the darkness waiting to hear
what project the Colchian might have in hand so as to take vengeance on
Nicander.
While we all held our breath he cried aloud on Hecate the goddess of
darkness and hater of light, who delighteth in blood, to come and
seize Nicander, at the same time appealing to other horrible-sounding
and unknown gods, and invoking on Nicander the most direful curses.
When he ceased, behold, up from the ground (as it seemed) there came a
thin voice, not loud but very piercing and such as made my very flesh
to creep, saying, “I come, O master, I come, I come.” Hereat we all
leaped to our feet and some shrieked aloud that the demon was upon
them, and then all rushed this way and that, and many fell in a heap
wallowing together on the floor, and such a hubbub as if hell itself
were let loose; and methought if the uproar had continued but a few
moments longer, many of us would have been mad; but at the instant the
guard came in with one bearing a lamp, and nothing could anywhere be
seen; and they smote on all sides with their whips till the clamor had
well nigh abated; and then they went out leaving us in the darkness as
before.
Now during all these many years I had had few or no thoughts of Him
in whose name Xanthias had been healed; but on this same evening of
the earthquake, while I was musing whether there were gods or no,
it came into my mind that besides invoking Hecate and Gorgo and the
rest, it might be wise to offer up prayers to the God of the strange
prophet whom I remembered in my childhood, that He also might join in
destroying Nicander. But blessed be the Lord, He hindered me from thus
blaspheming His Holy Name; for whether it was that I remembered that
the prophet had said that this God was a God of mercy and would be as
a Father to me, or whether it was the memory of the pure and holy face
of the prophet which seemed not to agree with my impure and unholy
prayers, certain it is that the Lord closed my lips and restrained my
tongue that I should not take His name in vain. But when all the rest
were at last asleep I lay a long while awake and musing upon the words
“the Lord be unto thee as a Father” and wondering what manner of god
this “Lord” might be.
§ 8. HOW I WAS SOLD TO PHILEMON OF COLOSSÆ.
Not more than three or four days had passed since the prophecy of the
Colchian, and it was the 8th month or thereabouts from the time of my
first being brought to the quarries, when behold, one morning, coming
out of the ergastulum to our work according to custom, we found, in the
place of the usual overseers, a band of soldiers; and instead of being
drafted off to our several stations in the quarries, we were caused to
march in one column through Tyana. As we passed through the town, we
heard the reason of our journey. Nicander was dead. However he had not
perished, as the Colchian had prophesied, in the earthquake; but having
committed an outrage on the wife of one of his slaves, he had been
mortally wounded by the man in a fit of passion. Yet had he lived long
enough to revenge himself by causing the whole of his household to be
put to death, three hundred in all, including those who had been of the
household of Ammiane, among whom perished our faithful Hermas, and our
old nurse Trophime. On the morrow he died, and the heir, entering on
the estate, had ordered all the slaves that were in the quarries to be
sent to Tarsus and there sold. So brutal had I become and so hard of
heart during my stay in the ergastulum, that even the news of the death
of Hermas and Trophime did not greatly move me, and the pain of it was
not so great as the pleasure I took in hearing of the death of Nicander.
When we were come to Tarsus and set up on the slave-platform, and there
caused to leap and dance and carry weights and to proclaim aloud what
arts and accomplishments we knew, I felt little shame, but only some
faint desire to know who would be my master, and at the same time a
rebellious hatred against gods and men, as being all alike unjust, and
a determination to be avenged on mankind. At this time my knowledge
of letters and my skill in transcribing stood me in good stead. For
when one of the slave-dealers had seen me give proof of my skill upon
tablets, he bought me at a higher price than the rest, and after taking
me to the baths and using medicaments to remove or lessen the marks of
my stripes, he clothed me decently, and placed me with a Greek teacher
to increase my skill in letters; and after two or three months thus
spent in Tarsus, I was sold to one Philemon, whose step-son Archippus
had been studying rhetoric in the schools. My new master was a wealthy
citizen of Colossæ and a man of learning, devoted at that time to
Greek literature, and he had come to Tarsus to take note of his son’s
progress in the schools there and to conduct him home; and by reason
of a growing infirmity of sight he desired to buy some slave who could
read Greek with understanding and take short notes of such things as
he dictated. So he bought me for four minæ, and I accompanied him to
Colossæ.
I was now in my eighteenth year, being the last year of the emperor
Claudius; but though young I was not so pliant or supple of nature as
might have been expected from a youth. For I was, as it were, old and
stiffened with suffering; and however the kind Philemon might shew me
favor and allowance, yet would my mind still harp on this, that, if I
had my rights, I should be free, and whosoever was my master, possessed
me unjustly. Moreover, the terror of my recent life in the quarries
never forsook me; and each night I said to myself, “I am pampered
and made a plaything to-day, but I may be cast into the ergastulum
to-morrow.” This bitterness of distrust spoiled all the pleasures with
which the good Philemon would have gladdened my new life at Colossæ;
and indeed my present freedom from oppression and my very leisure,
giving me increased occasions for brooding over my loneliness, made
me more morose than ever. Sometimes when I looked at the little token
which my brother had given me and bethought myself of the token that I
had interchanged with him, I would declare that I had not only bestowed
on my poor Chrestus the legend I LOVE THEE, but at the same time I had
parted with my very faculty of love—so barren and dry of all affection
did my heart now seem—and as for the other legend TRUST ME, I would
inveigh against it as idle and deceiving. For whom had I on earth
to trust? My parents, who had forsaken me? Or Chrestus or Hermas or
Trophime, who were now but dust and ashes? But if I looked elsewhere,
to the gods in heaven above, or to the gods beneath the earth, behold,
I saw none save beings that either rejoiced in evil or at least had not
power to destroy evil; which therefore were either too bad or too weak
to claim trust from men.
But herein is thy hand manifest, O Lord Jesus; for through the loss of
earthly love and trust thou wast leading me to thyself, the fountain of
all goodness, O thou whom to love is to trust, and to trust is to love,
and in the loving and trusting of whom is Life Eternal. Blessed art
thou, who dost free the oppressed and guide the wanderer! Blessed art
thou, Lord of all Love, who didst take from me unto thyself the earthly
love of my dear brother that thereby thou mightest guide me to a better
and higher Love, even to thyself, in whom, long afterwards, I found my
brother once again.
THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK.
THE SECOND BOOK.
§ 1. HOW I RETURNED TO THE WORSHIP OF FALSE GODS.