Chapter 10

ministered to the cravings of our sensual nature, as we can conceive a religion might do; if it made the work of life light, and the reward certain and glorious; if it relieved its followers of much of the suffering, and fear, and doubt, that oppress others--it would not be surprising that men should bear much for its sake; and their doing so, for what appealed so to their selfishness, would be no evidence, at all to be trusted, of its truth. But as it is, they who die for it afford a presumption in behalf of it, that appeals to the reason almost or quite with the force of demonstration. So, I remember well, my reason was impressed by what I used to hear from Paul of the sufferings of the early Christians.'

While Julia had been saying these things, it had seemed to me as if there was an unusual commotion in the streets; and as she ended I was about to look for the cause of it, when the hasty steps of several running through the hall leading from the main entrance of the house prevented me, and Milo breathless, followed by others of the household, rushed into the apartment where we sat, he exclaiming with every mark of fear and horror upon his countenance,

'Ah! sir, it is all just as I was told by Curio it would be; the edicts are published on the capitol. The people are going about the streets now in crowds, talking loud and furiously, and before night they say the Christians will all be delivered to their pleasure.'

Soon as Milo could pause, I asked him 'if he had read or seen the edicts?'

'No, I have not,' he answered; 'I heard from Curio what they were to be.'

I told Julia and Probus that such I did not believe was their tenor. It did not agree with usage, nor with what I had gathered from Aurelian of his designs. But that their import was probably, at present, no more than deprivation of a portion of their freedom and of some of their privileges. It was the purpose of Aurelian first to convert back again the erring multitudes to Paganism, for which time must be granted.

But my words had no effect to calm the agitation of our slaves, who, filled with terror at the reports of Milo, and at the confusion in the streets, had poured into the room, and were showing in a thousand ways their affection for us, and their concern. Some of this number are Christians, having been made so by the daily conversations which Julia has had with them, and the instruction she has given them in the gospels. Most however are still of that religion in which they were reared, as they are natives of the East, of the North, or of Africa. But by all, with slight differences, was the same interest manifested in our safety. They were ready to do anything for our protection; and chiefly urgent were they that we should that very night escape from Rome--they could remain in security and defend the palace. When they had thus in their simple way given free expression to their affections, I assured them that no immediate danger impended, but even if it did, I should not fly from it, but should remain where I was; that the religion for which I might suffer was worth to those who held it a great deal more than mere life--we could easily sacrifice life for it, if that should be required. Some seemed to understand this--others not; but they then retired, silent and calm, because they saw that we were so.

Soon as they were withdrawn, I proposed to Probus that we should go forth and learn the exact truth. We accordingly passed to the street, which, as it is one that forms the principal avenue from this part of the city to the capitol, we found alive with numbers greater than usual, with their faces turned toward that quarter. We joined them and moved with them in the same direction. It was a fearful thing, Fausta, even to me, who am rarely disturbed by any event, to listen to the language which fell on my ear on all sides from the lips of beings who wore the same form as myself, and with me have a right to the name of man. It was chiefly that of exultation and joy, that at length the power of the state was about to strike at the root of this growing evil--that one had taken hold of the work who would not leave it, as others had, half accomplished, but would finish it, as he had every other to which he had put his hand.

'Now we shall see,' cried one, 'what he whose hand bears the sword of a true soldier can do, and whether Aurelian, who has slain more foes of Rome abroad than emperor before ever did, cannot do as well by enemies at home.'

'Never doubt it,' said another. 'Before the ides of the month now just come in, not a Christian will be seen in the streets of Rome. They will be swept out as clean, as by Varus they now are of other filth. The Prefect is just the man for the times. Aurelian could not have been better matched.'

'Lucky this,' said still another as he hurried away, 'is it not? Three vessels arrived yesterday stowed thick with wild beasts from Africa and Asia. By the gods! there will be no starving for them now. The only fear will be that gorged so they will lose their spirit.'

'I don't fear that,' said his older companion. 'I remember well the same game twenty-five years ago. The fact was then that the taste of human blood whetted it for more and more, and, though glutted, their rage seemed but to become more savage still; so that, though hunger was fed to the full, and more, they fell upon fresh victims with increased fury--with a sort of madness as it were. Such food, 'tis said, crazes them.

Others were soon next us from whom I heard,

'Let every soul perish. I care not for that, or rather I do. Let all die I say; but not in this savage way. Let it be done by a proper accusation, trial, and judgment. Let profession of atheism be death by a law, and let the law be executed, and the name will soon die. Inevitable death under a law for any one who assumes the name, would soon do the work of extermination--better than this universal slaughter which, I hear, is to be the way. Thousands are then overlooked in the blind popular fury; the work by and by ceases through weariness; it is thought to be completed--when lo! as the first fury of the storm is spent, they come forth from their hiding-places, and things are but little better than before.'

'I think with you,' said the younger companion of him who had just spoken; 'and besides, Romans need not the further instruction in the art of assassination, which such a service would impart. Already nothing comes so like nature to a Roman as to kill; kill something--if not a beast, a slave--if there is no slave at hand, a Christian--if no Christian, a citizen. One would think we sucked in from our mothers not milk but blood--the blood too of our Parent Wolf. If the state cannot stand secure, as our great men say, but by the destruction of this people, in the name of the gods, let the executioners do the work, not our sons, brothers, and fathers. So too, I say, touching the accursed games at the Flavian and elsewhere. What is the effect but to make of us a nation of man-butchers? as, by the gods, we already are. If the gods send not something or somebody to mend us, we shall presently fall upon one another and exterminate ourselves.'

'Who knows but it is this very religion of the Christians that has been sent for that work?' said a third who had joined the two. 'The Christians are famed for nothing more than for their gentleness, and their care of one another--so, at least, I hear.'

'Who knows, indeed?' said the other. 'If it be so, pity it were not found out soon. Aurelian will make short work with them.'

In the midst of such conversation, which on every side caught our ears as we walked silently along, we came at length to the neighborhood of the capitol; but so great was the throng of the people, who in Rome, have naught else to do but to rush together upon every piece of news, that we could not even come within sight of the building, much less of the parchment.

We accordingly waited patiently to learn from some who might emerge from the crowd what the precise amount of the edicts might be. We stood not long, before one struggling and pushing about at all adventures, red and puffing with his efforts, extricated himself from the mass, and adjusting his dress which was half torn from his back, began swearing and cursing the Emperor and his ministers for a parcel of women and fools.

'What is it?' we asked, gathering about him. 'What have you seen? Did you reach the pillar?'

'Reach it? I did; but my cloak, that cost yesterday ten good aurelians, did not, and here I stand cloakless--'

'Well, but the edicts.'

'Well, but the edicts! Be not in a hurry, friend--they are worth not so much as my cloak. Blank parchment were just as good. I wonder old 'sword-in-hand didn't hang up a strip--'twould have saved the expense of a scrivener. If any of you hear of a cloak found hereabouts, or any considerable part of one, blue without, lined with yellow, and trimmed with gold, please to note the name sewed on beneath the left shoulder, and send it according to the direction and your labor shall not be lost.'

'But the edicts--the edicts.'

'O the edicts! why they are just this; the Christians are told that they must neither assemble together in their houses of worship to hear their priests, nor turn the streets into places of worship in their stead; but leave off all their old ways just as fast as they can and worship the gods. There's an edict for you!'

'Who is this?' said one to Probus.

'I do not know; he seems sadly disappointed at the Emperor's clemency as he deems it.'

But what Probus did not know, another who at the moment came up, did; exclaiming, as he slapped the disappointed man on the shoulder,

'What, old fellow, you here? always where mischief is brewing. But who ever saw you without Nero and Sylla? What has happened? and no cloak either?'

'Nero and Sylla are in their den--for my cloak I fear it is in a worse place. But come, give me your arm, and let us return. I thought a fine business was opening, and so ran up to see. But it's all a sham.'

'It's only put off,' said his companion, as they walked away; 'your dogs will have enough to do before the month is half out--if Fronto knows anything.'

'That is one, I see,' said he who had spoken to Probus, 'who breeds hounds for the theatres--I thought I had seen him before. His ordinary stock is not less than five hundred blood-hounds. He married the sister of the gladiator Sosia. His name is Hanno.'

Having heard enough, we turned away and sought again the Coelian. You thus see, Fausta, what Rome is made of, and into what hands we may all come. Do you wonder at my love of Christianity? at my zeal for its progress? Unless it prosper, unless it take root and spread through this people, their fate is sealed, to my mind, with the same certainty as if I saw their doom written upon the midnight sky in letters of fire. Their own wickedness will break them in pieces and destroy them. It is a weight beneath which no society can stand. It must give way in general anarchy and ruin. But my trust is that, in spite of Aurelian and of all other power, this faith will go on its way, and so infuse itself into the mass as never to be dislodged, and work out its perfect ultimate regeneration.

By this decree of the Emperor then, which was soon published in every part of the capital, the Christians are prohibited from assembling together for purposes of worship, their churches are closed, and their preachers silenced.

One day intervenes between this, and the first day of the week, the day on which the Christians as you may perhaps know assemble for their worship. In the meantime it will be determined what course shall be pursued.

* * * * *

Those days have passed, Fausta, and before I seal my letter I will add to it an account of them.

Immediately upon the publication of the Emperor's decrees, the Christians throughout the city communicated with each other, and resolved, their places of worship being all closed and guarded, to assemble secretly, in some spot to be selected, both for worship and to determine what was to be done, if anything, to shield themselves from the greater evils which threatened. The place selected was the old ruins where the house of Macer stands. 'There still remains,' so Macer urged, 'a vast circular apartment partly below and partly above the surface of the ground, of massy walls, without windows, remote from the streets, and so surrounded by fallen walls and columns as to be wholly buried from the sight. The entrance to it was through his dwelling, and the rooms beyond. Resorting thither when it should be dark, and seeking his house singly and by different avenues among the ruins, there would be little chance of observation and disturbance.' Macer's counsel was accepted.

On the evening of the first day of the week--a day which since I had returned from the East to Rome had ever come to me laden with both pleasure and profit--I took my way under cover of a night without star or moon, and doubly dark by reason of clouds that hung black and low, to the appointed place of assembly. The cold winds of autumn were driving in fitful blasts through the streets, striking a chill into the soul as well as the body. They seemed ominous of that black and bitter storm that was even now beginning to break in sorrow and death upon the followers of Christ. Before I reached the ruins the rain fell in heavy drops, and the wind was rising and swelling into a tempest. It seemed to me, in the frame I was then in, better than a calm. It was moreover a wall of defence against such as might be disposed to track and betray us.

Entering by the door of Macer's cell, I passed through many dark and narrow apartments, following the noise of the steps of some who were going before me, till at length I emerged into the vaulted hall spoken of by Macer. It was lofty and spacious, and already filled with figures of men and women, whom the dim light of a few lamps, placed upon the fragments of the fallen architecture, just enabled me to discern and distinguish from the masses of marble and broken columns which strewed the interior, which, when they afforded a secure footing, were covered with the assembled worshippers. The footsteps of those who were the last to enter soon died away upon the ear, and deep silence ensued, unbroken by any sound save that of the sighs and weeping of such as could not restrain their feelings.

It was interrupted by the voice of one who said,

'That the Christians of Rome were assembled here by agreement to consult together concerning their affairs, which now, by reason of the sudden hostility of Aurelian, set on by the Pagan priesthood, had assumed a dark and threatening aspect. It was needful so to consult; that it might be well ascertained whether no steps could be taken to ward off the impending evil, and if not, in what manner and to what extent we might be able to protect ourselves. But before this be done,' he continued, 'let us all first with one heart seek the blessing of God. To-day, Christians, for the first time within the memory of the younger portion of this assembly, have we by the wicked power of the state been shut out of those temples where we have been wont to offer up our seventh day worship. Here, in this deep cavern, there is none to alarm or interrupt. Let us give our first hour to God. So shall the day not be lost, nor the enemy wholly prevail.'

'That is right,' said another. 'It is what we all wish. Let Probus speak to us and pray for us.'

'Felix! Felix!' cried other voices in different parts of the room.

'Not so, but Probus! Probus!' shouted a far greater number.

'Who does not know,' cried a shrill voice elevated to its utmost pitch, 'that Probus is a follower of Paul of Samosata?'

'And who does not know,' responded he who had first spoken, 'that Felix follows after Plato and Plotinus? Pagans both!'

'And what,' said the sharp voice of Macer, 'what if both be true? who dare say that Felix is not a Christian?--who dare say that Probus is not a Christian? and if they are Christians, who shall dare to say they may not speak to Christians? Probus was first asked, and let Probus stand forth.'

The name of Probus was then uttered as it were by the whole assembly.

As he moved toward a more central and elevated spot, the same mean and shrill voice that had first charged him, again was heard, advising that no hymn nor chant be sung; 'the Roman watch is now abroad, and despite the raging of the storm their ears may catch the sound and the guard be upon us.'

'Let them come then!' shouted Macer. 'Let them come! Shall any fear of man or of death frighten us away from the worship of God? What death more glorious than if this moment those doors gave way and the legions of Aurelian poured in? Praise God and Christ, Christians, in the highest note you can raise, and let no cowardice seal your lips nor abate your breath.'

The voice of Probus, now heard in prayer, brought a deep silence upon the assembly, and I would fain believe, harmony and peace also into the spirits of all who were there. It was a service deeply moving and greatly comforting. Whatever any who were present might have thought of the principles of Probus, all must have been penetrated and healed by that devout and benevolent temper that was so manifest in the sentiments he uttered, and in the very tones of his voice.

No sooner had he ended his prayer than the voice of Macer broke forth, commencing a chant commonly heard in the churches and with which all were familiar. His voice, louder than that of the storm and shriller than the blast of a war-trumpet, rang through the vast apartment, and inspiring all who were there with the same courage that possessed himself, their voices were instinctively soon joined with his, and the hymn swelled upward with a burst of harmony that seemed as if it might reach Heaven itself. Rome and its legions were then as if they did not exist. God only was present to the mind, and the thoughts with which that hymn filled it. Its burden was like this:

'O God almighty, God of Christ our Lord, arise and defend thy people. The terrors of death are around us the enemies of truth and thy Son assail us, and we faint and are afraid. Their hosts are encamped against us; they are ready to devour us. Our hope is in thee: Strengthen and deliver us. Arise, O God, and visit us with thy salvation.'

These, and words like them, repeated with importunity and dwelt upon, the whole soul pouring itself out with the notes, while tears ran down the cheeks of those who sang--the sign not of weakness but of the strength of those affections which bound their hearts to God, to Christ, and to one another--it seemed as if such words and so uttered could not but draw a blessing down. As the hymn drew to a close and the sounds died away, deep silence again fell upon the assembly. The heart had been relieved by the service; the soul had been rapt and borne quite away; and by a common feeling an interval of rest ensued, which by each seemed to be devoted to meditation and prayer. This, when it had lasted till the wants of each had been satisfied, was broken by the voice of Probus.

What he said was wonderfully adapted to infuse fresh courage into every heart, and especially to cheer and support the desponding and the timid. He held up before them the great examples of those who, in the earlier ages of the church, had offered themselves as sacrifices upon the same altar upon which the great head of the Christians had laid down his life. He made it apparent how it had ever been through suffering of some kind on the part of some, that great benefits had been conferred upon mankind; that they who would be benefactors of their race must be willing cheerfully to bear the evil and suffering that in so great part constitutes that office; and was it not a small thing to suffer, and that in the body only, and but for a moment, if by such means great and permanent blessings to the souls of men might be secured, and remotest ages of the world made to rejoice and flourish through the effects of their labors? Every day of their worship they were accustomed to hear sung or recited the praises of those who had died for Christ and truth; men of whom the world was not worthy, and who, beautiful with the crown of martyrdom, were now of that glorious company who, in the presence of God, were chanting the praises of God and the Lamb. Who was not ready to die, if it were so ordained, if by such death truth could be transmitted to other ages? What was it to die to-day rather than to-morrow--for that was all--or this year rather than the next, if one's death could be made subservient to the great cause of Christ and his gospel? What was it to die by the sword of a Roman executioner, or even to be torn by wild beasts, if by suffering so the soul became allied to reformers and benefactors of all ages? And besides, what evil after all was it in the power of their enemies to inflict? They could do no more than torment and destroy the body. They could not touch nor harm the soul. By the infliction of death itself they did but hasten the moment when they should stand clothed in shining garments in the presence of the Father. 'The time has come, Christians,' he then said, 'when, in the providence of God, you are called upon to be witnesses of the faith which you profess in Christ. After many years of calm, a storm has arisen, which begins already to be felt in the violence with which it beats upon our heads. Almost ever since the reign of Decius have we possessed our borders in quietness. Especially under Gallienus and Claudius, and during these nearly four years of Aurelian, have we enjoyed our faith and our worship with none to alarm or oppress us. The laws of the empire have been as a wall of defence between us and this fierce and bloody spirit of Pagan superstition. They who would have willingly assailed and destroyed us have been forcibly restrained by wise and merciful enactments. During this season of repose our numbers have increased, we have been prosperous and happy. Our churches have multiplied, and all the signs of an outward prosperity have been visible in all parts of this vast empire. Would to God I could say that while numbers and wealth have been added to the church, it had grown in grace and in the practice of the virtues of the gospel in the same proportion! But I cannot. The simplicity and purity of the first ages are no longer to be seen among us. We no longer emulate the early apostles and make them our patterns. We rather turn to the Pagan and Jewish priesthood, and in all that pertains to the forms of our worship mould ourselves upon them; and in all that pertains to opinion and doctrine we turn to the philosophers, and engraft, whatever of their mysteries and subtleties we can, upon the plain and simple truth of Jesus. We have departed far, very far, from the gospel standard, both in practice and in faith. We need, Christians, to be brought back. We have gone astray--we have almost worshipped other gods,--it is needful that we return in season to our true allegiance. I dare not say, Christians, that the calamity which now impends is a judgment of God upon our corruptions; we know not what events are of a judicial character, they have upon them no signature which marks them as such; but this we may say, that it will he no calamity, but a benefit and a blessing rather, if it have the effect to show us our errors, and cause us to retrace our steps. Aurelian, enemy though we call him, may prove our benefactor; he may scourge us, but the sufferings he inflicts may bring healing along with them, being that very medicine which the sick soul needs. Let us meet then this new and heavy trial as a part of the providence of God, as a part of that mysterious plan--the lines of which are in so great part hidden from our eyes--by which he educates his children, and at the same time, and by the same means, prepares and transmits to future generations the richest blessings. If we, Christians, suffer for the cause of truth, if our blood is poured out like water, let us remember that it serves to fertilize that soil out of which divine nutriment shall grow for generations yet unborn, whom it shall nourish up unto a better life. Let your hearts then be strong within you; faint not, nor fear; God will be with you and his Spirit comfort you.

'But why do I say these things? Why do I exhort you to courage? For when was it known that the followers of Christ shrunk from the path of duty, though it were evidently the path of death? When and in what age have those been wanting who should bear witness to the truth, and seal it with their blood? There have been those who in time of persecution have fallen away--but for one apostate there have been a thousand martyrs. We have been, I may rather affirm, too prodigal of life--too lavish of our blood. There has been, in former ages, not only a willingness, a readiness to die for Christ, but an eagerness. Christians have not waited to be searched for and found by the ministers of Roman power; they have thrust themselves forward; they have gone up of their own accord to the tribunal and proclaimed their faith, and invited the death at which nature trembles and revolts. But shall we blame this divine ardor? this more than human contempt of suffering and death? this burning zeal for the great cause of our Master? Let us rather honor and revere it as a temper truly divine and of more than mortal force. But let us be just to all. While we honor the courage and self-sacrificing love of so many, let us not require that all should be such, nor cast suspicion upon those who--loving Christ not less in their hearts--shrink from the sufferings in which others glory. Ye need not, Christian men and women, yourselves rush to the tribunal of Varus, ere you can feel that you are Christ's indeed. It is not needful that to be a Christian you must also be a martyr. Ye need not, ye ought not, impatiently seek for the rack and the cross. It is enough if, when sought and found and arraigned, you be found faithful; if then you deny not nor renounce your Lord, but glory in your name, and with your dying breath shout it forth as that for which you gladly encounter torture and death. Go not forth then seeking the martyr's crown! Wait till you are called. God knoweth, and he alone, whom he would have to glorify him by that death which is so much more to be coveted than life. Leave all in the hand of Providence. You that are not chosen, fear not that, though later, the gates of Heaven shall not be thrown open for you. Many are the paths that lead to those gates. Besides, shall all rush upon certain death? Were all martyrs, where then were the seed of the church? They who live, and by their life, consecrate to holiness and God, show that they are his, do no less for their Master and his cause than do they who die for that cause. Nay, 'tis easier to die well than to live well. The cross which we bear through a long life of faithful service, is a heavier one than that which we bear as we go up our Calvary. Leave all then, Christian men and women, in the hands of God. Seek not death nor life. Shun not life nor death. Say each, "Here, Lord, is thy servant, do with him as shall seem to thee good."

'And now, Christians, how shall we receive the edict of Aurelian? It silences our preachers, it closes our churches. What now is the duty of the Christians of Rome?'

Soon as this question was proposed by Probus, many voices from various parts of the room gave in their judgments. At first, the opinions expressed differed on many points: but as the discussion was prolonged the difference grew less and less, till unanimity seemed to be attained. It was agreed at length, that it was right to conform to the edict so far as this: 'That they would not preach openly in the streets nor elsewhere; they would, at first, and scrupulously, conform to the edict in its letter and spirit--until they had seen what could be done by appeals both to the Emperor and the senate; but, maintaining at the same time, that if their appeals were vain, if their churches were not restored to them with liberty to assemble in them as formerly and for the same purposes--then they would take the freedom that was not granted, and use it as before, and abide by the issue; no power of man should close their mouths as ambassadors of God, as followers of Christ and through him reformers of the world; they would speak--they would preach and pray, though death were the immediate reward.'

In this determination I heartily agreed as both moderate and yet firm; as showing respect for the powers that are over us, and at the same time asserting our own rights, and declaring our purpose to stand by them. But so thought not all. For no sooner was the opinion of the assembly declared than Macer broke forth:

'I have heard,' said he, 'the judgment which has been pronounced. But I like it not--I agree not to it. Shall the minister of Christ, the ambassador of God, a messenger from Heaven to earth, hold his peace at the behest of a man, though he be an emperor, or of ten thousand men, were all emperors? Not though every Christian in Rome subscribed to this judgment, not though every Christian in the world assented to it, would I. Is Christ to receive laws of Aurelian? Is the cause of God and truth to be postponed to that of the empire? and posterity to die of hunger because we refuse to till the earth? We are God's spiritual husbandmen--the heart of Rome is our field of labor--it is already the eleventh hour--the last days are at hand--and shall we forbear our toil? shall we withdraw our hand from the plough? shall we cease to proclaim the glad tidings of salvation because the doors of our churches are closed? Not so, Christians, by the blessing of God, shall it be with me. While the streets of Rome and her door-stones will serve me for church and pulpit, and while my tongue is left unwrenched from my mouth, will I not cease to declare Jesus Christ and him crucified! Think you Aurelian will abate his wrath or change his purposes of death, for all your humble sueing? that cringing and fawning will turn aside the messengers of death? Believe it not. Ye know not Aurelian. More would ye gain with him, did the faith of the peace-loving Jesus allow it, if ye went forth in battle array and disputed this great question in the streets of Rome sword in hand! More would ye gain now, if ye sent a word of defiance--denying his right to interpose between God and his people--between Christ and his church--and daring him to do his worst, than by this tame surrender of your rights--this almost base denial of your Master. No sooner shall tomorrow's sun have risen, than on the very steps of the capitol will I preach Christ, and hurl the damnation of God upon this bloody Emperor and his bloody people.'

'O, Macer, Macer! cease, cease!' cried a woman's voice from the crowd. 'You know not what you say! Already have your harsh words put new bitterness into Aurelian's heart. Forbear, as you love Christ and us.'

'Woman--' replied Macer, 'for such your voice declares you to be--I do love both Christ and you, and it is because I love you that I aim to set aside this faithless judgment of the Roman Christians. But when I say I love you and the believers in Rome, I mean your souls, not your bodies. I love not your safety, nor your peace, nor your outward comforts; your houses, nor your wealth, nor your children, nor your lives, nor anything that is yours which the eye can see or the hands handle. I love your souls, and, beside them, nothing. And while it is them I love, and for them am bound in the spirit as a minister of Christ, I may not hold my peace, nor hide myself, for that there is a lion in the path! As a soldier of the cross I will never flee. Though at the last day I hear no other word of praise from Him the judge--and no other shall I hear, for my Pagan sins weigh me down--down--help, Lord! or I perish!--' Macer's voice here took the tone of deepest agony; he seemed for a time wholly lost, standing still, with outstretched arms and uplifted eye. After a long pause he suddenly resumed. 'What did I say?--It was this: though I hear no other word of praise from my judge as I stand at his judgment-seat, I trust I shall hear this, that I did not flee nor hide myself, that I was no coward, but a bold and fearless soldier of the cross, ready at any time and at all times to suffer for the souls of my brethren.'

'Think not, Macer,' said Probus, 'that we shrink at the prospect of danger. But we would be not only bold and unshrinking, but wise and prudent. There is more than one virtue goes to make the Christian man. We think it right and wise first to appeal to the Emperor's love of justice. We think it might redound greatly to our advantage if we could obtain a public hearing before Aurelian, so that from one of our own side he, with all the nobility of Rome, might hear the truth in Christ, and then judge whether to believe so was hurtful to the state, or deserving of torture and death.'

'As well, Probus,' replied Macer, 'might you preach the faith of Christ in the ear of the adder! to the very stones of the highways! Aurelian turn from a settled purpose! ha! ha! you have not served, Probus, under him in Gaul and Asia as others have. Never did the arguments of his legions and his great officers on the other side, serve but to intrench him the more impregnably in his own. He knows not what the word change means. But were this possible, and of good hope, it shows not that plain and straight path to which my spirit points, and which therefore I must travel. Is it right to hearken to man rather than God? That to me is the only question. Shall Aurelian silence the ambassador of God and Christ? Shall man wrestle and dispute it with the Almighty? God, or Aurelian, which shall it be? To me, Christians, it would be a crime of deeper dye than the errors of my Pagan youth, did I chain my tongue, were it but for an hour, at the command of Aurelian. I have a light within, and it is that I must obey. I reason not--I weigh not probabilities--I balance not argument against argument--I feel! and that I take to be the instinct of God--the inspiration of his holy Spirit--and as I feel so am I bound to act.'

It was felt to be useless to reason with this impetuous and self-willed man. He must be left to work out his own path through the surrounding perils, and bear whatever evil his violent rashness might draw upon his head. Yet his are those extreme and violent opinions and feelings which are so apt to carry away the multitude, and it was easy to see that a large proportion of the assembly went with him. Another occasion was given for their expression.

When it had been determined that the edicts should be observed so far as to refrain from all public preaching and all assembling together, till the Emperor had been first appealed to, it then became a question in what manner he should be approached, and by whom, in behalf of the whole body. And no sooner had Macer ceased, than the same voice which had first brought those charges against Probus was again heard--the voice as I have since learned of a friend of Felix, and an exorcist.

'If it be now determined,' said the voice, 'that we appeal to the clemency of the Emperor in order to avert from our heads the evil that seems to be more than threatened, let it be done by some one who in his faith may nay represent the great body of Christ's followers. Whether the Emperor shall feel well inclined toward us or not, will it not greatly depend upon the manner in which the truth in Christ shall be set forth, and whether by means of the principles and doctrines that shall be shown to belong to it and constitute it, it shall be judged by him to be of hurtful or beneficial tendency? Now it is well known to all how variously Christ is received and interpreted in Rome. As received by some, his gospel is one thing; as received by others, it is another and quite a different thing. Who can doubt that our prospect of a favorable hearing with Aurelian will be an encouraging one in the proportion that he shall perceive our opinions to agree with those which have already been advanced in the schools of philosophy--especially in that of the divine Plato. This agreement and almost identity has, ever since the time of Justin, been pointed out and learnedly defended. They who perceive this agreement, and rest in it as their faith, now constitute the greater part of the Christian world. Let him then who is to bespeak for us the Emperor's good-will be, as in good sooth he ought to be, of these opinions. As to the declaration that has been made that one is as much a Christian as another, whatever the difference of faith may be, I cannot receive it; and he who made the declaration, I doubt would scarce abide by it, since as I learn he is a worshipper and follower of that false-hearted interloper Novatian. The puritans least of all are apt to regard with favor those who hold not with them. Let Felix then, who, if any now living in Rome may stand forward as a specimen of what Christ's religion is in both its doctrine and its life--let Felix plead our cause with Aurelian.'

The same difference of feeling and opinion manifested itself as before. Many voices immediately cried out, 'Yes, yes, Felix, let Felix speak for us.' While others from every part of the room were heard shouting out, 'Probus, Probus, let Probus be our advocate!'

At length the confusion subsided as a single voice made itself heard above the others and caught their attention, saying,

'If Felix, O Christians, as has just been affirmed, represents the opinions which are now most popular in the Christian world, at least here in Rome, Probus represents those which are more ancient--' He was instantly interrupted.

'How long ago,' cried another, 'lived Paul of Samosata?'

'When died the heretic Sabellius?' added still another.

'Or Praxeas?' said a third, 'or Theodotos? or Artemon?'

'These,' replied the first, soon as he could find room for utterance--'these are indeed not of the earliest age, but they from whom they learned their faith are of that age, namely, the apostles and the great master of all.'

'Heresy,' cried out one who had spoken before, 'always dates from the oldest; it never has less age nor authority than that of Christ.'

'Christians! Christians!' Macer's stentorian voice was now heard towering above the tumult, 'what is it ye would have? What are these distinctions about which ye dispute? What have they to do with the matter now in hand? How would one doctrine or the other in such matters weigh with Aurelian more than straws or feathers? But if these are stark naught, and less than naught, there are other questions pertinent to the time, nay, which the time forces upon us, and about which we should be well agreed. A new age of persecution has arisen, and the church is about to be sifted, and the wheat separated from the chaff--the first to be gathered into the garners of God, the last to be burnt up in fire unquenchable. Now is it to be proved who are Christ's, and who are not--who will follow him bearing their cross to some new Calvary, and who, saving their lives, shall yet lose them. Who knows not the evil that, in the time of Decius, yes, and before and since too, fell upon the church from the so easy reception and restoration of those who, in an hour of weakness and fear, denied their master and his faith, and bowed the knee to the gods of Rome? Here is the danger against which we are to guard; from this quarter--not from any other of vain jargon concerning natures, essences, and modes of being--are we to look for those fatal inroads to be made upon the purity of the gospel, that cannot but draw along with them corruption and ruin. Of what stuff will the church then be made, when they who are its ministers, deacons and bishops, shall be such as, when danger showed itself, relapsed into idolatry, and, soon as the clouds had drifted by, and the winds blew soft, came forth again into the calm sunshine, renounced their idolatry, and again professing Christ, were received to the arms of the church, and even to the communion of the body and blood of our Lord? Christians, the great Novatian is he to whom we owe what purity the church yet retains, and it is in allegiance to him--'

'The great Novatian!' exclaimed a priest of the Roman church, 'great only in his infamy! Himself an apostate once, he sought afterwards, having been received himself back again to the church upon his repentance, to bury his shame under a show of zeal against such as were guilty of the same offence. His own weakness or sin, instead of teaching him compassion, served but to harden his heart. Is this the man to whose principles we are to pledge ourselves? Were his principles sound in themselves, we could hardly take them from such a source. But they are false. They are in the face of the spirit and letter of the gospel. What is the character of the religion of Christ, if it be not mercy? Yet this great Novatian, to those who like Peter have fallen--Peter whom his master received and forgave--denies all mercy! and for one offence, however penitence may wring the soul, cuts them off forever like a rotten branch from the body of Christ! Is this the teacher whose follower should appeal for us to the Roman Emperor?'

'I seek not,' Macer began to say, 'to defend the bishop of Rome--'

'Bishop!' cried the other, 'bishop! who ever heard that Novatian was bishop of Rome? But who has not heard that that wicked and ambitious man through envy of Cornelius, and resolved to supplant him, caused himself to be ordained bishop by a few of that order, weak and corrupt men, whom he bribed to the bad work, but who, corrupt as they were, and bribed as they were, it was first needful to make drunk before conscience would allow them by such act eternally to disgrace themselves and the church--'

'Lies and slanders all,' cried Macer and others with him, in the same breath and with their utmost voice. The greatest confusion prevailed. A thousand contradictory cries were heard. In the midst of the uproar the name of Macer was proclaimed by many as that of one who would best assert and defend the Christian cause before Aurelian. But these were soon overborne and silenced by a greater number, who now again called upon Probus to fill that office.

Probus seemed not sorry that, his name being thus tumultuously called out, he had it again in his power to speak to the assembly. Making a sign accordingly that he would be heard, he said,

'That he coveted not the honorable office of appealing for them to the Emperor of Rome. It would confer more happiness a thousand fold, Christians, if I could by any words of mine put harmony and peace into your hearts, than if I might even convert a Roman emperor. What a scene of confusion and discord is this, at such an hour, when, if ever, our hearts should be drawn closer together by this exposure to a common calamity. Why is it that when at home, or moving abroad in the business of life, your conversation so well becomes your name and faith, drawing upon you even the commendation of your Pagan foes, you no sooner assemble together, as now, than division and quarrel ensue, in such measure, as among our Heathen opponents is never seen? Why is it, Christians, that when you are so ready to die for Christ, you will not live at peace for him? Honor you not him more by showing that you are of his spirit, that for his name's sake you are willing to bear patiently whatever reproach may be laid upon you, than you do even by suffering and dying for him? The questions you have here agitated are not for this hour and place. What now does it signify whether one be a follower of Paul, of Origen, of Sabellius, or Novatian, when we are each and all so shortly to be called upon to confess our allegiance to neither of these--but to a greater, even Jesus, the master and head of us all! And what has our preference for some of the doctrines of either of these to do with our higher love of Christ and his truth? By such preference is our superior and supreme regard for Jesus and his word vitiated or invalidated? Nay, what is it we then do when we embrace the peculiar doctrine of some great or good man, who has gone before, but embrace that which in a peculiar sense we regard as the doctrine of Christ? We receive the peculiar doctrine of Paul, or Justin, or Origen, not because it is theirs, but because we think they have shown it to be eminently the doctrine of Christ. In binding upon us then the dogmas of any teacher, we ought not to be treated other than as those who, in doing so, are seeking to do the highest honor, not to such teacher, but to Christ. I am charged as a disciple of the bishop of Antioch, and the honored Felix as a disciple of Plato. If I honor Paul of Samosata, Christians, for any of his truth, it is because I deem him to have discerned clearly the truth as it is in Jesus. My faith is not in him, but in Jesus. And if Felix honor Plato or Plotinus, it is but because in them he beholds some clearer unfolding--clearer than elsewhere--of the truth in Christ. Are not we then, and all who do the same thing, to be esteemed as those who honor Christ? not deny nor forsake him. And as we all hold in especial reverence some one or another of a former age, through whom as a second master we receive the doctrines of the gospel, ought we not all to love and honor one another, seeing that in the same way we all love and honor Christ? Let love, Christians, mutual honor and love, be the badge of our discipleship, as it was in the first age of the church. Soon, very soon, will you be called to bear testimony to the cause you have espoused, and perhaps seal it with your blood. Be not less ready to show your love to those around you by the promptness with which you lend your sympathy, or counsel, or aid, as this new flood of adversity flows in upon them. But why do I exhort you? The thousand acts of kindness, of charity, of brotherly love, which flow outwards from you in a perpetual stream toward Heathen not less than Christian, and have drawn upon you the admiration even of the Pagan world, is sufficient assurance that your hearts will not be cold when the necessities of this heavier time shall lay upon you their claims. It is only in the public assembly, and in the ardor of debate, that love seems cold and dead. Forget then, now and tomorrow, that you are followers of any other than Christ. Forget that you call yourselves after one teacher or another, and remember only that you are brethren, members of one family, of the same household of faith, owning one master, worshipping one and the same God and Father of us all. And now, Christians, if you would rather that Felix should defend you before Aurelian, I would also. There is none among us who loves Christ more or better than he, or would more readily lay down his life for his sake.'

Felix however joined with all the others--for all now, after these few words of Probus, seemed of one opinion--in desiring that Probus should appear for the Christians before the Emperor; which he then consented to do. Harmony was once more restored. The differences of opinion, which separated them, seemed to be forgotten, and they mingled as friends and fellow-laborers in the great cause of truth. They who had been harshest in the debate--which was at much greater length, and conducted with much more vehemence than as I have described it--were among the most forward to meet with urbanity those who were in faith the most distantly removed from them. A long and friendly interview then took place, in which each communed with each, and by words of faith or affection helped to supply the strength which all needed for the approaching conflict. One saw no longer and heard no longer the enthusiastic disputant more bent upon victory than truth, and heedless of the wounds he gave to the heart, provided he convinced the head or silenced the tongue, but instead, those who now appeared no other than a company of neighbors and friends engaged in the promotion of some common object of overwhelming interest.

When in this manner and for a considerable space of time a fit offering had been laid upon the altar of love, the whole assembly again joined together in acts of prayer, and again lifted up their voices in song of praise. This duty being performed, we separated and sought the streets. The storm which had begun in violence, had increased, and it was with difficulty that beset by darkness, wind, and rain, I succeeded without injury in finding my way to the Coelian.

Julia was waiting for me with anxious impatience.

After relating to her the events of the evening, she said,

'How strange, Lucius, the conduct of such men at such a time! How could Christians, with the Christian's faith in their hearts, so lose the possession of themselves--and so violate all that they profess as followers of Jesus! I confess, if this be the manner in which Christianity is intended to operate upon the character, I am as yet wholly ignorant of it, and desire ever to remain so. But it is not possible that they are right. Nay, they seem in some sort to have acknowledged themselves to have been in the wrong by the last acts of the meeting. This brings to my mind what Paul has often told me of the Christians of the same kind, at which I was then amazed, but had forgotten. I do not comprehend it. I have read and studied the character and the teachings of Jesus, and it seems to me I have arrived at some true understanding--for surely there is little difficulty in doing so--of what he himself was, and of what he wished his followers to be. Would he have recognized his likeness in those of whom you have now told me?'

'Yet,' I replied, 'there was more of it there in those very persons than at first we might be inclined to think; and in the great multitude of those who were present, it may have been all there, and was in most, I cannot doubt. We ought not to judge of this community by the leaders of the several divisions which compose it. They are by no means just specimens, from which to infer the character of all. They are but too often restless, ambitious, selfish men; seeking their own aggrandizement and their party's, rather than the glory of Christ and his truth. I can conceive of a reception of Christian precept and of the Christian spirit being but little more perfect and complete, than I have found it among the humbler sort of the Christians of Rome. Among them there is to be seen nothing of the temper of violence and bigotry that was visible this evening in the language of so many. They, for the most part, place the religion of Jesus in holy living, in love of one another, and patient waiting for the kingdom of God. And their lives are seen to accord with these great principles of action. Even for their leaders, who are in so many points so different from them, this may be said in explanation and excuse--that from studying the record more than the common people, they come to consider more narrowly in what the religion of Jesus consists, and arriving, after much labor, at what they believe in their hearts to be the precise truth--truth the most vital of any to the power and success of the gospel--this engrosses all their affections, and prompts all their labor and zeal. In the dissemination of this do they alone behold the dissemination of Christianity itself--this being denied or rejected, the gospel itself is. With such notions as fundamental principles of action, it is easy to see with what sincere and virtuous indignation they would be filled toward such as should set at nought and oppose that, which they cherish as the very central glory and peculiarity of Christianity. These things being so, I can pity and forgive a great deal of what appears to be, and is, so opposite to the true Christian temper, on account of its origin and cause. Especially as these very persons, who are so impetuous, and truculent almost, as partizans and advocates, are, as private Christians, examples perhaps of extraordinary virtue. We certainly know this to be the case with Macer. An apostle was never more conscientious nor more pure. Yet would he, had he power equal to his will, drive from the church all who bowed not the knee to his idol Novatian.'

'But how,' asked Julia, 'would that agree with the offence he justly took at those who quarreled with Probus and Felix on account of their doctrine?'

'There certainly would be in such conduct no agreement nor consistency. It only shows how easy it is to see a fault in another, to which we are stone-blind in ourselves. In the faith or errors of Probus and Felix he thought there was nothing that should injure their Christian name, or unfit them for any office. Yet in the same breath he condemned as almost the worst enemies of Christ such as refused honor and adherence to the severe and inhuman code of his master Novatian.'

'But how far removed, Lucius, is all this from the spirit of the religion of Jesus! Allowing all the force of the apologies you may offer, is it not a singular state for the minds and tempers of those to have arrived at, who profess before the world to have formed themselves after the doctrine, and, what is more, after the character of Christ? I cannot understand the process by which it has been done, nor how it is that, without bringing upon themselves public shame and reproach, such men can stand forth and proclaim themselves not only Christians, but Christian leaders and ministers.'

'I can understand it, I confess, quite as little. But I cannot doubt that as Christianity outgrows its infancy, especially when the great body of those who profess it shall have been formed by it from their youth, and shall not be composed, as now, of those who have been brought over from the opposite and uncongenial regions of Paganism, with much of their former character still adhering to them, Christians will then be what they ought to be who make the life and character of Jesus their standard. Nothing is learned so slowly by mankind as those lessons which enforce mutual love and respect, in which the gospels so abound. We must allow not only years, but hundreds of years, for these lessons to be imprinted upon the general heart of men, and to be seen in all their character and intercourse. But when a few hundred years shall have elapsed, and that is a long allowance for this education to be perfected in, I can conceive that the times of the primitive peace and love shall be more than restored, and that such reproaches as to-night were heard lavished upon one and another will be deemed as little compatible with a Christian profession as would be violence and war. All violence and wrong must cease, as this religion is received, and the ancient superstitions and idolatries die out.'

'What a privilege, to be born and live,' said Julia, 'in those fast approaching years, when Christianity shall alone be received as the religion of this large empire, when Paganism shall have become extinct in Rome war and slavery shall cease, and all our people shall be actuated by the same great principles of faith and virtue that governed both Christ and his apostles! A few centuries will witness more and better than we now dream of.'

So we pleased ourselves with visions of future peace and happiness, which Christianity was to convert to reality. To me they are no longer mere visions, but as much realities to be experienced, as the future towering oak is, when I look upon an acorn planted, or as the future man is, when I look upon a little child. If Christianity grows at all, it must grow in such direction. If it do not, it will not be Christianity that grows, but something else that shall have assumed its name and usurped its place. The extension of Christianity is the extension and multiplication as it were of that which constituted Christ himself--it is the conversion of men into his image--or else it is nothing. Then, when this shall be done, what a paradise of peace, and holiness, and love, will not the earth be! Surely, to be used as an instrument in accomplishing such result, one may well regard as an honor and privilege, and be ready to bear and suffer much, if need be, in fulfilling the great office.

I hope I shall not have wearied you by all this exactness. I strictly conform to your injunctions, so that you can complain only of yourself.

We often wish that the time would allow us to escape to you, that we might witness your labors and share them in the rebuilding and reëmbelishing of the city. Rome will never be a home to Julia. Her affections are all in Syria. I can even better conceive of Zenobia becoming a Roman than Julia. Farewell.

* * * * *

Finding among the papers of Piso no letter giving any account of what took place immediately after the meeting of the Christians, which, in his last letter, he has so minutely described, I shall here supply, as I may, the deficiency; and I can do it at least with fidelity, since I was present at the scenes of which I shall speak.

No one took a more lively interest in the condition and affairs of the Christians than Zenobia; and it is with sorrow that I find among the records of Piso no mention made of conversations had at Tibur while these events were transpiring, at which were present himself, and the princess Julia, the Queen, and, more than once, Aurelian and Livia. While I cannot doubt that such record was made, I have in vain searched for it among those documents which he intrusted to me.

It was by command of the Queen that on the day following that on which the Christians held their assembly at the baths, I went to Rome for the very purpose to learn whatever I could, both at the Gardens and abroad in the city, concerning the condition and probable fate of that people, she desiring more precise information than could be gathered from any of the usual sources of intelligence.

It was apparent to me as I entered the city, and penetrated to its more crowded parts, that somewhat unusual had taken place, or was about to happen. There were more than the common appearances of excitement among those whom I saw conversing and gesticulating at the corners of streets or the doors of the public baths. This idle and corrupt population seemed to have less than on other occasions to employ their hands, and so gave their time and their conversation to one another, laying no restraint upon the quantity of either. It is an indisputable fact that Rome exists to this day, for any one who will come into Italy may see it for himself, and he cannot reject the testimony of his eyes and ears. But how it exists from year to year, or from day to day, under such institutions, it would puzzle the wisest philosopher, I believe, to tell. Me, who am no philosopher, it puzzles as often as I reflect upon it. I cannot learn the causes that hold together in such apparent order and contentment so idle and so corrupt a people. I have supposed it must be these, but they seem not sufficient: the Prætorian camp without the walls, and the guard, in league with them, within, and the largesses and games proceeding from the bounty of the Emperor. These last, though they are the real sources of their corruption and must end in the very destruction of the city and people, yet, at present, operate to keep them quiet and in order. So long as these bounties are dispensed, so long, such is our innate love of idleness and pleasure, will the mass think it foolish to agitate any questions of right or religion, or any other, by which they might be forfeited. Were these suddenly suspended, all the power of the Prætorian cohorts, I suppose, could not keep peace in Rome. They were now I found occupied by the affairs of the Christians, and waiting impatiently for the orders which should next issue from the imperial will. The edicts published two days before gave them no employment, nor promised much. They merely laid restraints upon the Christians, but gave no liberty of assault and injury to the Roman.

'That does not satisfy the people,' said one to me, at the door of a shop, of whom I had made some inquiry on the subject. 'More was looked for from the Emperor, for it is well known that he intends the extremest measures, and most are of opinion that, before the day is out, new edicts will be issued. Why he took the course he did of so uncommon moderation 'tis hard to say. All the effect of it is to give the Christians opportunity to escape and hide themselves, so that by the time the severer orders against them are published, it will be impossible to carry them into execution.'

'Perhaps,' I said, 'it was after all his intention to give them a distant warning, that some might, if they saw fit to do so, escape.'

'I do not believe that,' he replied; 'it will rather, I am of the opinion, be found to have proceeded from the advice of Fronto and Varus, to give to the proceedings a greater appearance of moderation; which shows into the hands of what owls the Emperor has suffered himself to fall. Nobody ever expected moderation in Aurelian, nor do any but a few as bad as themselves think these wretches deserve it. The only consequence of the present measures will be to increase their swelling insolence and pride, thinking that Aurelian threatens but dares not execute. Before another day, I trust, new edicts will show that the Emperor is himself. The life of Rome hangs upon the death of these.'

Saying which, with a savage scowl, which showed how gladly he would turn executioner or tormentor in such service, he turned and crossed the street.

I then sought the palace of Piso. I was received in the library, where I found the lady Julia and Piso.

They greeted me as they ever did, rather as if I were a brother than but the servant of Zenobia. But whatever belongs to her, were it but so much as a slave of the lowest office, would they treat with affection at least, if not with reverence. After answering their inquiries after the welfare of the Queen and Faustula, I made mine concerning the condition of the city and the affairs of the Christians, saying, 'that Zenobia was anxious to learn what ground there was, or whether any, to feel apprehension for the safety of that people?'--Piso said, 'that now he did not doubt there was great ground for serious apprehension. It was believed by those who possessed the best means of intelligence, that new edicts of a much severer character would be issued before another day. But that Zenobia need be under no concern either as to himself or Julia, since the Emperor in conversation with him as much as assured him that, whatever might befal others, no harm should come to them.'

He then gave me an account of what the Christians had done in their assembly, agreeing with what is now to be found in the preceding letter.

I then asked whether he thought that the Christian Macer would keep to the declaration he had made, that he would to-day, the edicts notwithstanding, preach in the streets of Rome! He replied, that he did not doubt that he would, and that if I wished to know what some of the Christians were, and what the present temper of the people was towards them, I should do well to seek him and hear him.'

'Stand by him, good Nicomachus,' said Julia, 'if at any moment you find that you can be of service to him. I have often heretofore blamed him, but since this murder of Aurelia, and the horrors of the dedication, I hold him warranted, and more than that, in any means he may use, to rouse this guilty people. Perhaps it is only by the use of such remedies as he employs, that the heart of Rome--hardened by ages of sin--can be made to feel. To the milder treatment of Probus, and others like him, it seems for the most part utterly insensible and dead. At least his sincerity, his zeal, and his courage, are worthy of all admiration.'

I assured her that I would befriend him if I could do so with any prospect of advantage, but it was little that one could do against the fury of a Roman mob. I then asked Piso if he would not accompany me; but he replied, that he had already heard Macer, and was, besides, necessarily detained at home by other cares.

As there was no conjecturing in what part of the city this Christian preacher would harangue the people, and neither the Princess nor Piso could impart any certain information, I gave little more thought to it, but, as I left the palace on the Coelian, determined to seek the gardens of Sallust, where, if I should not see Aurelian, I might at least pass the earlier hours of the day in an agreeable retreat. I took the street that leads from the Coelian to the Capitol Hill, as affording a pleasanter walk--if longer. On the way there, I observed well the signs which were given in the manner and conversation of those whom I met, or walked with, of the events which were near at hand. There is no better index of what a despotic ruler, and yet at the same time a 'people's' despot, will do, than the present will of the people. It was most apparent to me that they were impatient for some quick and vigorous action, no matter how violent, against the Christians. Language the most ferocious met my ear. The moderation and tardiness of the Emperor--of him who had in every thing else been noted for the rapidity of his movements--were frequent subjects of complaint.

'It is most strange,' they said, 'that Aurelian should hesitate in this matter, in truth as if he were afraid to move. Were it not for Fronto, it is thought that nothing would be done after all. But this we may feel sure of, that if the Emperor once fairly begins the work of extermination, he is not the man to stop half way. And there is not a friend of the ancient institutions of religion, but who says that their very existence depends upon--not the partial obstruction of this sect--but upon its actual and total extermination. Who does not know that measures of opposition and resistance, which go but part way and then stop, through a certain unwillingness as it were to proceed to extremes, do but increase the evil they aim to suppress. Weeds that are but mown, come up afterwards only the more vigorously. Their very roots must be torn up and then burned.' Such language was heard on all sides, uttered with utmost violence--of voice and gesture.

I paused, among other curious and busy idlers, at the door of a smith's shop, which, as I passed slowly by, presented a striking view of a vast and almost boundless interior, blazing with innumerable fires, where laborers half naked--and seeming as if fire themselves, from the reflection from their steaming bodies of the red glare of the furnaces--stood in groups, some drawing forth the bars of heated metal and holding them, while others wielding their cyclopean hammers made the anvils and the vast interior ring with the blows they gave. All around the outside of the shop and in separate places within stood the implements and machines of various kinds which were either made, or were in the process of being put together. Those whom I joined were just within the principal entrance looking upon a fabric of iron consisting of a complicated array of wheels and pulleys, to which the workmen were just in the act of adding the last pieces. The master of the place now approaching and standing with us, while he gave diverse orders to the men, I said to him,

'What new device may this be? The times labor with new contrivances by which to assist the laborer in his art, and cause iron to do what the arm has been accustomed to perform. But after observing this with care I can make nothing of it. It seems not designed to aid any manufacture of which I have any knowledge.'

The master looked at me with a slighting expression of countenance as much as to say 'you are a wise one! You must have just emerged from the mountains of Helvetia, or the forests of the Danube.' But he did not content himself with looks.

'This, sir?' said he. 'This, if you would know it, is a rack--a common instrument of torture--used in all the prisons of the empire, the use of which is to extract truth from one who is unwilling to speak except compelled; or, sometimes, when death is thought too slight a punishment, to give it an edge with, just as salt and pepper are thrown into a fresh wound. Some crimes, you must know, were too softly dealt with, were a sharp axe the only instrument employed. Cæsar! just bring some wires of a good thickness, and we will try this. Now shall you see precisely how it would fare with your own body, were you on this iron frame and Varus standing where I am. There,--Cæsar having in a few moments brought the wires--the body you perceive is confined in this manner.--You observe there can be no escape and no motion. Now at the word of the judge, this crank is turned. Do you see the effect upon the wire? Imagine it your body and you will have a lively idea of the instrument. Then at another wink or word from Varus, these are turned, and you see that another part of the body, the legs or arms as it may be, are subjected to the same force as this wire, which as the fellow keeps turning you see--strains, and straightens, and strains, till--crack!--there!--that is what we call a rack. A most ingenious contrivance and of great use. This is going up within the hour to the hall of the Prefect.'

'It seems,' I remarked, 'well contrived indeed for its object. And what,' I asked, 'are these which stand here? Are they for the same or a similar purpose?'

'Yes--these, sir, are different and yet the same. They are all for purposes of torture, but they vary infinitely in the ingenuity with which they severally inflict pain and death. That is esteemed in Rome the most perfect instrument which, while it inflicts the most exquisite torments, shall at the same time not early, assail that which is a vital part, but, you observe, prolong life to the utmost. Some, of an old-fashioned structure, with a clumsy and bungling machinery--here are some sent to me as useless--long before the truth could be extracted, or much more pain inflicted than would accompany beheading, destroyed the life of the victim. Those which I build--and I build for the State--are not to be complained of in that way. Varus is curious enough, I can assure you, in such things. All these that you see here, of whatever form or make, are for him and the hall of justice. They have been all refitted and repaired--or else they are new.'

'How is it possible,' I asked, 'so many could be required in one place?'

'Surely,' said the master, 'you must just have dropt down in Rome from Britain, or Scythia, or the moon! Didst ever hear of a people called Galilean or Christian? Perhaps the name is new to you.'

'No, I have heard it.'

'Well, these are for them. As you seem new in the city and to our Roman ways, walk a little farther in and I will show you others, which are for the men and the boys at such time as the slaughter of this people shall become general. For you must know,--although it is not got widely abroad yet--that by and by the whole city is to be let loose upon them. That is the private plan of the Emperor. Every good citizen, it will be expected, will do his share in the work, till Rome shall be purged. Aurelian does nothing by halves. It is in view of such a state of things that I have prepared an immense armory--if I may call it so--of every sort of cheap iron tool--I have the more costly also--to meet the great demand that will be made. Here they are! commend now my diligence, my patriotism, and my foresight! Some of my craft will not engage in this work: but it exactly jumps with my humor. Any that you shall choose of these, sir, you shall have cheap, and they shall be sent to your lodgings.'

I expressed my gratitude, but declined the offer.

After wandering a little longer around the huge workshop, I took my leave of its humane master, still entreating me to purchase, and, as I entered again the street, turned towards the capitol. My limbs were sympathising with those wires throughout the rest of the day.

I had forgotten Macer, and almost my object in coming abroad, and was revolving various subjects in my mind, my body only being conscious of the shocks which now and then I received from persons meeting or passing me, when I became conscious of a sudden rush along the street in the direction of the capitol, which was now but a furlong from where I was. I was at once awake. The people began to run, and I ran with them by instinct. At length it came into my mind to ask why we were running? One near me replied,

'O, it's only Macer the Christian, who, 'tis said, in spite of the edict, has just made for the steps of the capitol, followed by a large crowd.'

On the instant I outstripped my companion, and turning quickly the corner, where the street in which I was crossed the hill, I there beheld an immense multitude gathered around the steps of the capitol, and the tall form of Macer just ascending them. Resolved to be near him, I struggled and forced my way into the mass till I found myself so far advanced that I could both hear and be heard by him, if I should find occasion to speak, and see the expression of his countenance. It was to me, as he turned round toward the people, the most extraordinary countenance I ever beheld. It seemed as if once it had been fiercer than the fiercest beast of the forest, while through that was now to be discerned the deep traces of grief, and an expression which seemed to say, "I and the world have parted company. I dwell above." His two lives and his two characters were to be read at once in the strong and deep-sunk lines of a face that struck the beholder at once with awe, with admiration, and compassion.

The crowd was restless and noisy; heaving to and fro like the fiery mass of a boiling crater. A thousand exclamations and imprecations filled the air. I thought it doubtful whether the rage which seemed to fill a great proportion of those around me would so much as permit the Christian to open his mouth. It seemed rather as if he would at once be dragged from where he stood to the Prefect's tribunal, or hurled from the steps and sacrificed at once to the fury of the populace. But, as the cries of his savage enemies multiplied, the voices of another multitude were lifted up in his behalf, which were so numerous and loud, that they had the effect of putting a restraint upon the others. It was evident that Macer could not be assailed without leading to a general combat. All this while Macer stood unmoved, and calm as the columns of the capitol itself--waiting till the debate should be ended and the question decided--a question of life or death to him. Upon the column immediately on his right hand hung, emblazoned with gold, and beautiful with all the art of the chirographer, the edict of Aurelian. It was upon parchment, within a brazen frame.

Soon as quiet was restored, so that any single voice could be heard, one who was at the foot of the steps and near the preacher cried out to him,

'Well, old fellow, begin! thy time is short.'

'Young man,' he replied, 'I was once old in sin, for which God forgive me!--now I am old in the love of Christ, for which God be thanked!--but in years I am but forty. As for time!--I think only of eternity.'

'Make haste, Macer!' cried another voice from the crowd. 'Varus will soon be here.'

'I believe you,' replied the soldier; 'but I am ready for him. I love life no longer than I can enjoy free speech. If I may not now and here speak out every thought of my heart, and the whole truth in Christ, then would I rather die; and whether I die in my own bed, or upon the iron couch of Varus, matters little. Romans!' turning now and addressing the crowd, 'the Emperor in his edict tells me not to preach to you. Not to preach Christ in Rome, neither within a church nor in the streets. Such is this edict. Shall I obey him? When Christ says, 'Go forth and preach the gospel to every creature,' shall I give ear to a Roman Emperor, who bids me hold my peace? Not so, not so, Romans. I love God too well, and Christ too well, and you too well, to heed such bidding. I love Aurelian too, I have served long under him, and he was ever good to me. He was a good as well as great general, and I loved him. I love him now, but not so well as these; not so well as you. And if I obeyed this edict, it would show that I loved him better than you, and better than these, which would be false. If I obeyed this edict I should never speak to you again of this new religion, as you call it. I should leave you all to perish in your sins, without any of that knowledge, or faith, or hope in Christ, which would save you from them, and form you after the image of God, and after death carry you up to dwell with him and with just men forever and ever. I should then, indeed, show that I hated you, which I can never do. I love you and Rome I cannot tell how much--as much as a child ever loved a mother, or children one another. And therefore it is that no power on earth--nor above it, nor under it--no power, save that of God, shall hinder me from declaring to you the doctrine which I think you need, nay, without which your souls will perish and dwell for ever and ever, not with God, but in fires eternal of the lowest hell. For what can your gods do for you? what are they doing? They lift you not up to themselves--they push you down rather to those fires. Christ, O Romans, if you will receive him, will save you from them, and from those raging fires of sorrow and remorse, which here on earth do constitute a hell hot as any that burns below. It is your sins which kindle those fires, and with which Christ wages war--not with you. It is your sins with which I wage war here in the streets of Rome, not with you. Only repent of your sins, Romans, and believe in Christ the son of God, and O how glorious and happy were then this great and glorious city. I have told you before, and I tell you now, your vices are undermining the foundations of this great empire. There is no power to cure these but in Jesus Christ. And when I know this, shall I cease to preach Christ to you because a man, a man like myself, forbids me? Would you not still prepare for a friend or a child the medicine that would save his life, though you were charged by another never so imperiously to forbear? The gospel is the divine medicament that is to heal all your sicknesses, cure all your diseases, remove all your miseries, cleanse all your pollutions, correct all your errors, confirm within you all necessary truth. And when it is this healing draught for which your souls cry aloud, for which they thirst even unto death, shall I the messenger of God, sent in the name of his Son to bear to your lips the cup, of which if you once drink you will live forever, withhold from you that cup, or dash it to the ground? Shall I, a mediator between God and man, falter in my speech, and my tongue hang palsied in my mouth, because Aurelian speaks? What to me, O Romans, is the edict of a Roman Emperor? Down, down, accursed scrawl! nor insult longer both God and man.'

And saying that, he reached forth his hand, and seizing the parchment wrenched it from its brazen frame, and rending it to shreds strewed them abroad upon the air.

It was done in the twinkling of an eye. At first, horror-struck at the audacity of the deed, and while it was doing, the crowd stood still and mute, bereft, as it were, of all power to move or speak. But soon as the fragments of the parchment came floating along upon the air, their senses returned, and the most violent outcries, curses, and savage yells rose from the assembled multitude, and at the same moment a movement was made to rush upon the Christian, with the evident purpose to sacrifice him on the spot to the offended majesty of the empire. I supposed that their purpose would be easily and instantly accomplished, and that whatever I might attempt to do in his defence would be no more than a straw thrown in the face of a whirlwind. But here a new wonder revealed itself. For no sooner was it evident, from the rage and tumultuous tossings of the crowd, and their ferocious cries, that the last momenta of Macer had arrived, than it was apparent that all in the immediate neighborhood of the building, on whose steps he stood, were either Christians, or Romans, who, like myself, were well disposed towards that people, and would promptly join them in their defence of Macer. These, and they amounted to a large and dense mass, at once, as those cries arose, sent forth others as shouts of defiance, and facing outwards made it known that none could assail Macer but by first assailing them.

I could not doubt that it was a preconcerted act by which the Christian was thus surrounded by his friends--not, as I afterward found, with his knowledge, but done at their own suggestion--so that if difficulty should arise, they, by a show of sufficient power, might rescue him, whom all esteemed in spite of his errors, and also serve by their presence to deter him from any further act, or the use of any language, that should give needless offence to either the Prefect or his friends. Their benevolent design was in part frustrated by the sudden, and, as it seemed, unpremeditated movement of Macer in tearing down the edict. But they still served as a protection against the immediate assaults of the excited and enraged mob.

But their services were soon ended, by the interference of a power with which it was in vain to contend. For when the populace had given over for a moment their design, awed by the formidable array of numbers about the person of Macer, he again, having never moved from the spot where he had stood, stretched out his long arm as if he would continue what he had scarcely as yet begun, and to my surprise the people, notwithstanding what had occurred, seemed not indisposed to hear him. But just at that moment--just as a deep silence had at length succeeded the late uproar--the distant sound, in the direction of the Prefect's, of a troop of horse in rapid movement over the pavements, caught the ears of the people. No one doubted for a moment what it signified.

'Your hour is come, Macer,' cried a voice from the crowd.

'It can never come too soon,' answered the preacher, 'in the service of God. But remember, Roman citizens, what I have told you, that it is for you and for Rome, that I incur the wrath of the wicked Varus, and may so soon at his hands meet the death of a Christian witness.'

As Macer spoke, the Roman guard swept rapidly round a corner, and the multitude giving way in every direction left him alone upon the spot where he had been standing. Regardless of life and limb, the horse dashed through the flying crowds, throwing down many and trampling them under foot, till they reached the Christian, who, undismayed and fearless, maintained his post. There was little ceremony in their treatment of him. He was seized by a band of the soldiers, his hands strongly bound behind him, and placed upon a horse--when, wheeling round again, the troop at full speed vanished down the same avenue by which they had come, bearing their victim, as we doubted not, to the tribunal of Varus.

Determined to see all I could, and the last if it must be so, of this undaunted spirit, I hastened at my utmost speed in the wake of the flying troop. Little as I had heard or seen of this strange man, I had become as deeply concerned in his fate as any could have been who had known him more intimately, or believed both in him and with him. I know not what it was, unless it were the signatures of sincerity, of child-like sincerity and truth stamped upon him, that so drew me toward him, together with that expression of profound sadness, or rather of inward grief, which, wherever we see it and in whomsoever, excites our curiosity and engages our sympathy. He was to me a man who deserved a better fate than I feared he would meet. He seemed like one who, under fortunate circumstances, might have been of the number of those great spirits whose iron will and gigantic force of character bear down before them all opposition, and yoke nations to their car. Of fear he evidently had no comprehension whatever. The rustling of the autumn breeze in his gown alarmed him as much, as did the clang of those horses' hoofs upon the pavements, though he so well knew it was the precursor of suffering and death.

With all the speed I could use I hurried to the hall of the Prefect. The crowds were pouring in as I reached it, among whom I also rushed along and up the flights of steps, anxious only to obtain an entrance and a post of observation, whence I could see and hear what should take place. I soon entered the room of justice. Varus was not yet in his seat: but before it at some little distance stood Macer, his hands still bound, and soldiers of the palace on either side.

I waited not long before Varus appeared at the tribunal; and following him, and placed near him, Fronto, priest of the Temple of the Sun. Now, poor Christian! I thought within myself, if it go not hard with thee it will not be for want of those who wish thee ill. The very Satan of thy own faith was never worse than these. Fronto's cruel eyes were fixed upon him just as a hungry tiger's are upon the unconscious victim upon whom he is about to spring. Varus seemed as if he sat in his place to witness some holiday sport, drawing his box of perfume between his fingers, or daintily adjusting the folds of his robe. When a few preliminary formalities were gone through, Varus said, addressing one of the officials of the place,

'Whom have we here?'

'Noble Prefect, Macer the Christian.'

'And why stands he at my tribunal?' continued Varus.

'For a breach of the late edict of the Emperor, by which the Christians were forbidden to preach either within their temples or abroad in the streets and squares.'

'Is that all?' asked the Prefect.

'Not only,' it was replied, 'hath he preached abroad in the streets, but he hath cast signal contempt upon both the Emperor and the empire, in that he hath but now torn down from its brazen frame the edict which he had first violated, and scattered it in fragments upon the streets.'

'If these things are so, doubtless he hath well earned his death. How is this, Galilean? dost thou confess these crimes, or shall I call in other witnesses of thy guilt?'

'First,' replied Macer, 'will it please the Prefect to have these bonds removed? For the sake of old fellowship let them be taken off, that, while my tongue is free to speak, my hands may be free also. Else am I not a whole man.'

'Unbind them,' said the Prefect; 'let him have his humor. Yet shall we fit on other bracelets anon that may not sit so easy.'

'Be that as it may,' answered the Christian; 'in the meanwhile I would stand thus. I thank thee for the grace.'

'Now, Christian, once more if thou art ready. Is it the truth that hath been witnessed?'

'It is the truth,' replied Macer; 'and I thank God that it is so.'

'But knowest thou, Christian, that in saying that, thou hast condemned thyself to instant death? Was not death the expressed penalty for violation of that law?'

'Truly it was,' answered Macer; 'and what is death to me?'

'I suppose death to be death,' replied Varus.

'Therein thou showest thyself to be in the same darkness as all the rest of this idolatrous city. Death to the Christian, Prefect, is life! Crush me by thy engines, and in the twinkling of an eye is my soul dwelling with God, and looking down with compassion upon thy stony heart.'

'Verily, Fronto,' said Varus, 'these Christians are an ingenious people. What a wonderful fancy is this. But, Christian,' turning to Macer, 'it were a pity surely for thee to die. Thou hast a family as I learn. Would not thy life be more to them than thy death?'

'Less,' said the Christian, 'a thousand fold! were it not a better vision to them of me crowned with a victor's wreath and sitting with Christ, than dwelling here in this new Sodom, and drinking in its pestilential air? The sight of me there would be to them a spring of comfort and a source of strength which here I can never be.'

'But,' added the Prefect, 'it is but right that thou shouldst for the present, if it may be, live here and take care of thy family. They will want thee.'

'God,' replied Macer, 'who feeds the birds of the air, and through all their wanderings over the earth from clime to clime still brings them back to the accustomed home, will watch over those whom I love, and bring them home. Such, Prefect, are the mercies of Rome toward us who belong to Christ, that they will not be left long to bewail my loss.'

'Do thy family then hold with thee?' said Varus.

'Blessed be God, they do.'

'That is a pity--' responded the Prefect.

'Say not so, Varus; 'tis a joy and a triumph to me in this hour, and to them, that they are Christ's.'

'Still,' rejoined the Prefect, 'I would willingly save thee, and make thee live: and there is one way in which it may be done, and thou mayest return in joy to thy home.'

'Let me then know it,' said Macer.

'Renounce Christ, Macer, and sacrifice; and thy life is thine, and honor too.'

Macer's form seemed to dilate to more than its common size, his countenance seemed bursting with expression as he said,

'Renounce Christ? save life by renouncing Christ? How little, Varus, dost thou know what a Christian is! Not though I might sit in thy seat or Aurelian's, or on the throne of a new universe, would I renounce him. To Christ, Varus, do I owe it that I am not now what I was, when I dwelt in the caves of the Flavian. To Christ do I owe it that I am not now what I was when in the ranks of Aurelian. To Christ do I owe it that my soul, once steeped in sin as thy robe in purple dye, is now by him cleansed and, as I trust, thoroughly purged. To Christ do I owe it that once worshipping the dumb idols of Roman superstition, I now bow down to the only living God--' 'Away with him to the tormentors!' came from an hundred voices--'to Christ do I owe it, O Prefect, that my heart is not now as thine, or his who sits beside thee, or as that of these, hungering and thirsting--never after righteousness--but for the blood of the innocent. Shall I then renounce Christ? and then worship that ancient adulterer, Jupiter greatest and best?--' The hall here rang with the ferocious cries of those who shouted--

'Give him over to us!'--'To the rack with him!'--'Tear out the tongue of the blaspheming Galilean!'

'Romans,' cried Varus, rising from his chair, 'let not your zeal for the gods cause you to violate the sanctity of this room of Justice. Fear not but Varus, who, as you well know, is a lover of the gods, his country, and the city, will well defend their rights and honors against whoever shall assail them.'

He then turned to Macer and said,

'I should ill perform my duty to thee, Christian, did I spare any effort to bring thee to a better mind--ill should I perform it for Rome did I not use all the means by the State entrusted to me to save her citizens from errors that, once taking root and growing up to their proper height, would soon overshadow, and by their poisonous neighborhood kill, that faith venerable through a thousand years, and of all we now inherit from our ancestors of greatest and best, the fruitful and divine spring.'

'There, Romans, spoke a Roman,' exclaimed Fronto.

As Varus ended--at a sign and a word from him, what seemed the solid wall of the room in which we were, suddenly flew up upon its screaming pulleys, and revealed another apartment black as night, save here and there where a dull torch shed just light enough to show its great extent, and set in horrid array before us, engines of every kind for tormenting criminals, each attended by its half-naked minister, ready at a moment's warning to bind the victim, and put in motion the infernal machinery. At this sight a sudden faintness overspread my limbs, and I would willingly have rushed from the hall--but it was then made impossible. And immediately the voice of the Prefect was again heard:

'Again, Christian, with Rome's usual mercy, I freely offer to thee thy life, simply on the condition, easily fulfilled by thee, for it asks but one little word from thy lips, that thou do, for thy own sake and for the sake of Rome, which thou sayest thou lovest, renounce Christ and thy faith.'

'I have answered thee once, O Prefect; dost thou think so meanly of me as to suppose that what but now I affirmed, I will now deny, and only for this show of iron toys and human demons set to play them? It is not of such stuff Aurelian's men are made, much less the soldiers of the cross. For the love I bear to Rome and Christ, and even thee, Varus, I choose to die.'

'Be assured, Christian, I will not spare thee.'

'I ask it not, Prefect--do thy worst--and the worst is but death, which is life.'

'Pangs that shall keep thee hours dying,' cried the Prefect--'thy body racked and rent--torn piecemeal one part from another--this is worse than death. Bethink thee well. Do not believe that Varus will relent.'

'That were the last thing to find faith with one who knows him as well as Macer does,' replied the Christian.

A flush of passion passed over the face of Varus. But he proceeded in the same even tone,

'Is thy election made, Macer?'

'It is made.'

'Slaves,' cried the Prefect, 'away with him to the rack, and ply it well.'

'Yes,' repeated Pronto, springing with eager haste from his seat, that he might lose nothing of what was to be seen or heard, 'away with him to the rack, and ply it well.'

Unmoved and unresisting, his face neither pale nor his limbs trembling, did Macer surrender himself into the hands of those horrid ministers of a cruel and bloody faith, who then hastily approached him, and seizing him dragged him toward their worse than hell. Accomplished in their art, for every day is it put to use, Macer was in a moment thrown down and lashed to the iron bars; when, each demon having completed the preparation, he stood leaning upon his wheel for a last sign from the Prefect. It was instantly given, and while the breath even of every being in the vast hall was suspended, through an intense interest in the scene, the creating of the engine, as it began to turn, sounded upon the brain like thunder. Not a groan nor a sigh was heard from the sufferer. The engine turned till it seemed as if any body or substance laid upon it must have been wrenched asunder. Then it stopt. And the minutes counted to me like hours or ages ere the word was given, and the wheels unrestrained flew back again to their places. Macer was then unbound. He at first lay where he was thrown upon the pavement. But his life was yet strong within his iron frame. He rose at length upon his feet, and was again led to the presence of his judges. His eye had lost nothing of its wild fire, nor his air any thing of its lofty independence.

Varus again addressed him.

'Christian, you have felt what there is in Roman justice. Reject not again what Roman mercy again offers thee--life freely, honor too, and office, if thou wilt return once more to the bosom of the fond mother who reared thee.'

'Yes,' said Fronto, 'thy mother who reared thee! Die not with the double guilt of apostacy and ingratitude upon thy soul.'

'Varus,' said Macer, 'art thou a fool, a very fool, to deem that thy word can weigh more with me than Christ? Make not thyself a laughingstock to me and such Christians as may be here. The torments of thy importunity are worse to me than those of thy engines.'

'I wish thee well, Macer; 'tis that which makes me thus a fool,'

'So, Varus, does Satan wish his victim well, to whom he offers his luscious baits. But what is it when the bait is swallowed, and hell is all that has been gained? What should I gain, but to live with thee, O greater fool?'

'Think, Macer, of thy wife and children.'

At those names, Macer bent his head and folded his hands upon his breast, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Till then there had been, as it seemed, a blessed forgetfulness of all but himself and the scene before him. Varus, misinterpreting this his silence, and taking it for the first sign of repentance, hastily cried out,

'There is the altar, Macer.--Slave! hold to him the sacred libation; he will now pour it out.'

Instantly a slave held out to him a silver ladle filled with wine.

Macer at the same instant struck it with his sinewy arm and sent it whirling to the ceiling.

'Bind him again to the rack,' cried the Prefect, leaping from his seat; 'and let him have it till the nerves break.'

Macer was again seized and stretched upon the iron bed--this time upon another, of different construction, and greater power. Again the infernal machine was worked by the naked slaves, and, as it was wound up, inflicting all that it was capable of doing without absolutely destroying life, groans and screams of fierce agony broke from the suffering Christian. How long our ears were assailed by those terrific cries, I cannot say. They presently died away, as I doubted not, only because Macer himself had expired under the torment. When they had wholly ceased, the engine was reversed and Macer again unbound. He fell lifeless upon the floor. Varus, who had sat the while conversing with Fronto, now said,

'Revive him, and return him hither.'

Water was then thrown upon him, and powerful drinks were forced down his throat. They produced in a little while their intended effect, and Macer gave signs of returning life. He presently gazed wildly around him, and came gradually to a consciousness of where and what he was. His limbs refused their office, and he was supported and partly lifted to the presence of Varus.

'Now, Galilean,' cried Varus, 'again, how is it with thee?'

'Better than with thee, I trust in God.'

'Wilt thou now sacrifice?'

'I am myself, O Varus, this moment a sacrifice, well pleasing and acceptable to the God whom I worship, and the Master whom I serve.'

'Why, Varus,' said Fronto, 'do we bear longer his insults and impieties? Let me strike him dead.' And he moved his hand as if to grasp a concealed weapon, with which to do it.

'Nay, nay, hold, Fronto! let naught be done in haste or passion, nor in violation of the law, but all calmly and in order. We act for those who are not present as well as for ourselves.'

A voice from a dark extremity of the room shouted out,

'It is Macer, O Prefect, who acts for us.'

The face of Macer brightened up, as if he had suddenly been encompassed by a legion of friends. It was the first token he had received, that so much as one heart in the whole assembly was beating with his. He looked instantly to the quarter whence the voice came, and then, turning to the Prefect, said,

'Yes, Varus, I am now and here preaching to the people of Rome, though I speak never a word. 'Tis a sermon that will fall deeper into the heart than ten thousand spoken ones.'

The Prefect commanded that he who had spoken should be brought before him. But upon the most diligent search he could not be found.

'Christian,' said Varus, 'I have other pains in store, to which what thou hast as yet suffered is but as the scratching of the lion's paw. It were better not to suffer them. They will leave no life in thee. Curse Christ--'tis but a word--and live.'

Macer bent his piercing eye upon the Prefect, but answered not.

'Curse Christ, and live.'

Macer was still silent.

'Bring in then,' cried the Prefect, 'your pincers, rakes and shells; and we will see what they may have virtue to bring forth.'

The black messengers of death hastened at the word from their dark recesses, loaded with those new instruments of torture, and stood around the miserable man.

'Now, Macer,' said Varus once more, 'acknowledge Jupiter Greatest and Best, and thou shalt live.'

Macer turned round to the people, and with his utmost voice cried out,

'There is, O Romans, but One God; and the God of Christ is he--'

No sooner had he uttered those words than Fronto exclaimed,

'Ah! hah! I have found thee then! This is the voice, thrice accursed! that came from the sacred Temple of the Sun! This, Romans, is the god whose thunder turned you pale.'

'Had it been my voice alone, priest, that was heard that day, I had been accursed indeed. I was out the humble instrument of him I serve--driven by his spirit. It was the voice of God, not of man.'

'These,' said Fronto, 'are the Christian devices, by which they would lead blindfold into their snares you, Romans, and your children. May Christ ever employ in Rome a messenger cunning and skilful as this prating god, and Hellenism will have naught to fear.'

'And,' cried Macer, 'let your priests be but like Fronto, and the eyes of the blindest driveler of you all will be unsealed. Ask Fronto into whose bag went the bull's heart, that on the day of dedication could not be found--

'Thou liest, Nazarene--'

'Ply him with your pincers,' cried Varus,--and the cruel irons were plunged into his flesh. Yet he shrunk not--nor groaned; but his voice was again heard in the midst of the torture,

'Ask him from whose robe came the old and withered heart, the sight of which so unmanned Aurelian--'

'Dash in his mouth,' shrieked Fronto, 'and stop those lies blacker than hell.'

But Macer went on, while the irons tore him in every part.

'Ask him too for the instructions and the bribes given to the haruspices, and to those who led the beasts up to the altar. Though I die, Romans, I have left the proof of all this in good hands. I stood the while where I saw it all.'

'Thou liest, slave,' cried the furious priest; and at the same moment springing forward and seizing an instrument from the hands of one of the tormentors, he struck it into the shoulder of Macer, and the lacerated arm fell from the bleeding trunk. A piercing shriek confessed the inflicted agony.

'Away with him!' cried Varus, 'away with him to the rack, and tear him joint from joint!'

At the word he was borne bleeding away, but not insensible nor speechless. All along as he went his voice was heard calling upon God and Christ, and exhorting the people to abjure their idolatries.

He was soon stretched again upon the rack, which now quickly finished its work; and the Christian Macer, after sufferings which I knew not before that the human frame could so long endure and live, died a martyr to the faith he had espoused; the last words which were heard throughout the hall being these;

'Jesus, I die for thee, and my death is sweet!'

When it was announced to the Prefect that Macer was dead, he exclaimed,

'Take the carcass of the Christian dog and throw it upon the square of the Jews: there let the dogs devour it.'

Saying which, he rose from his seat, and, accompanied by Fronto, left by the same way he had before entered the hall of judgment.

Soon as he had withdrawn from the apartment, the base rabble that had filled it, and had glutted their savage souls upon the horrors of that scene, cried out tumultuously for the body of the Christian, which, when it was gladly delivered to them by those who had already had enough of it, they thrust hooks into, and rushed out dragging it toward the place ordained for it by the Prefect. As they came forth into the streets the mob increased to an immense multitude of those, who seemed possessed of the same spirit. And they had not together proceeded far, filling the air with their cries and uttering maledictions of every form against the unhappy Christians, before a new horror was proclaimed by that blood-thirsty crew. For one of them, suddenly springing up upon the base of one of the public statues, whence he could be heard by the greater part, cried out,

'To the house of Macer! To the house of Macer!'

'Aye, aye,' shouted another, 'to the house of Macer, in the ruins behind the shop of Demetrius!'

'To the house of Macer!' arose then in one deafening shout from the whole throng; and, filled with this new frenzy, maddened like wild beasts at the prospect of fresh blood, they abandoned there, where they had dragged it, the body of Macer, and put new speed into their feet in their haste to arrive at the place of the expected sport. I knew not then where the ruins were, or it was possible that I might have got in advance of the mob, and given timely warning to the devoted family. Neither did I know any to whom to apply to discharge such a duty. While I deplored this my helplessness and weakness, I suffered myself to be borne along with the rushing crowd. Their merciless threats, their savage language, better becoming barbarians than a people like this, living in the very centre of civilization, filled me with an undefinable terror. It seemed to me that within reach of such a populace, no people were secure of property or life.

'The Christians,' said one, 'have had their day and it has been a long one, too long for Rome. Let its night now come.'

'Yes,' said another, 'we will all have a hand in bringing it on. Let every Roman do his share, and they may be easily rooted out.'

'I understand,' said another, 'that it is agreed upon, that whatever the people attempt after their own manner, as in what we are now about, they are not to be interfered with. We are to have free pasturage, and feed where, and as we list.'

'Who could suppose,' said the first, 'it should be different? It is well known that formerly, though there has been no edict to the purpose, the people have not only been permitted, they have been expected, to do their part of the business without being asked or urged. I dare say if we can do up this family of--who is it?'

'Macer, the Christian Macer,' interrupted the other;--'we shall receive the thanks of Aurelian, though they be not spoken, as heartily as Varus. That was a tough old fellow though. They say he has served many years under the Emperor, and when he left the army was in a fair way to rise to the highest rank. Curses upon those who made a Christian of him! It is they, not Varus, who have put him on the rack. But see! are not these the ruins we seek? I hope so, for I have run far enough.'

'Yes,' replied his companion; 'these are the old baths! Now for it!'

The crowd thereupon abandoning the streets, poured itself like an advancing flood among the ruins, filling all the spaces and mounting up upon all the still standing fragments of walls and columns. It was not at all evident where the house of the Christian was. It all seemed a confusion of ruins and of dead wall.

'Who can show us,' cried out one who took upon himself the office of leader, 'where the dwelling of Macer is?'

'I can,' responded the slender voice of a little boy; 'for I have often been there before they became Christians.'

'Show us then, my young urchin; come up hither. Now, lead the way, and we will follow.'

'You need go no further,' replied the boy; 'that is it?'

'That? It is but a stone wall!'

'Still it is the house,' replied the child; 'but the door is of stone as well as the walls.'

At that the crowd began to beat upon the walls, and shout to those who were within to come forth. They had almost wearied themselves out, and were inclined to believe that the boy had given them false information, when, upon a sort of level roof above the projecting mass which served as the dwelling, a female form suddenly appeared, and, advancing to the edge--not far above, yet beyond, the reach of the mob below--she beckoned to them with her hand, as if she would speak to them.

The crowd, soon as their eyes caught this new object, ceased from their tumultuous cries and prepared to hear what she who approached them thus might have to say. Some, indeed, immediately began to hurl missiles, but they were at once checked by others, who insisted that she should have liberty to speak. And these wretches would have been more savage still than I believed them, if the fair girl who stood there pleading to them had not found some favor. Hers was a bright and sparkling countenance, that at once interested the beholder. Deep blushes spread over her face and bosom, while she stood waiting the pleasure of the heaving multitude before her.

'Ah! hah!' cried one; 'who is she but the dancing girl Ælia! she is a dainty bit for us. Who would have thought that she was the daughter of a Christian!'

'I am sorry for her,' cried another; 'she is too pretty to be torn in pieces. We must save her.'

'Say on! say on!' now cried one of the leaders of the crowd as silence succeeded; 'we will hear you.'

'Whom do you seek?' then asked Ælia, addressing him who had spoken.

'You know well enough, my pretty girl,' replied the other. 'We seek the house and family of Macer the Christian. Is this it? and are you of his household?'

'This,' she replied, 'is the house of Macer, and I am his daughter. My mother with all her children are below. And now why do you seek us thus?'

'We seek,' replied the savage, 'not only you but your lives. All you have to do is to unbar this door and let us in.'

Though Ælia could have supposed that they were come for nothing else, yet the brutal announcement of the terrible truth drove the color from her cheeks, and caused her limbs to tremble. Yet did it not abate her courage, nor take its energy from her mind.

'Good citizens and friends,' said she, 'for I am sure I must have some friends among you, why should you do us such wrong? We are poor and humble people, and have never had the power, if the will had been ours, to injure you. Leave us in safety, and, if you require it, we will abandon our dwelling and even our native Rome--for we are all native Romans.'

'That, my young mistress, will not serve our turn. Are you not, as you said, the family of the Christian Macer?'

'Yes, we are.'

'Well,' answered the other, 'that is the reason we seek you, and mean to have you.'

'But,' replied the girl, 'there must be many among you who would not willingly harm either Macer or anything that is his. Macer is not only a Christian, Romans, but he is a good warm-hearted patriot as ever was born within the compass of these walls. Brutus himself never loved freedom nor hated tyrants more than he.'

'That's little to the purpose now-a-days,' cried one from the crowd.

'There is not a single possession he has,' continued Ælia, 'save only his faith as a Christian, which he would not surrender for the love he bears to Rome and to everything that is Roman. Ever since he was strong enough to draw and wield a sword, has he been fighting for you the battles of our country. If you have seen him, you have seen how cruelly the weapons of the enemy have hacked him. On every limb are there scars of wounds received in battle; and twice, once in Gaul and once in Asia, has he been left for dead upon the field. It was once in Syria, when the battle raged at its highest, and Carinus was suddenly beset by more than he could cope with, and had else fallen into the enemy's hands a prisoner, or been quickly despatched, that Macer came up and by his single arm saved his general--'

'A great pity that,' cried many from the crowd.

'Macer,' continued Ælia, 'only thought that Carinus then represented Rome, and that his life, whatever it was, and however worthless in itself, was needful for Rome, and he threw himself into the breach even as he would have done for Aurelian or his great captain Probus. Was not his virtue the greater for that? Was he to feed his own humor, and leave Carinus to perish, when his country by that might receive detriment? Macer has never thought of himself. Had he been ambitious as some, he had now been where Mucapor is. But when in the army he always put by his own interests. The army, its generals and Rome were all in all with him, himself, nothing. How, citizens, can you wish to do him harm? or anything that is his? And, even as a Christian--for which you reproach him and now seek him--it is still the same. Believe me when I say, that it is because of his love of you and Rome that he would make you all as he is. He honestly thinks that it is the doctrine of Christ, which can alone save Rome from the destruction which her crimes are drawing down upon her. He has toiled from morning till night, all day and all night--harder than he ever did upon his marches either in Africa or in Asia--that you might be made to know what this religion of Christ is; what it means; what it will bestow upon you if you will receive it; and what it will save you from. And he would not scruple to lose his life, if by so doing he could give any greater efficacy to the truth in which he believes. I would he were here now, Romans, to plead his own cause with you. I know you would so esteem his honesty, and his warm Roman heart, that you would be more ready to serve than to injure him.'

Pity stood in some eyes, but impatience and anger in more.

'Be not so sure of that,' cried he who had spoken before. 'No true Roman can love a Christian. Christians are the worst enemies of the state. As for Macer, say no more of him; he is already done for. All you have to do is to set open the door.'

'What say you of Macer?' cried the miserable girl, wringing her hands. 'Has any evil befallen him?'

'What he will never recover from,' retorted the barbarian. 'Varus has just had him on one of his iron playthings, and his body we have but now left in the street yonder. So hasten.'

'O worse than demons to kill so good a man,' cried Ælia, the tears rolling down her cheeks. 'But if he is dead, come and take us too. We wish not now to live; and ready as he was to die for Christ, so ready are we also. Cease your blows; and I will open the door.'

But her agency in that office was no longer needed. A huge timber had been brought in the meantime from the ruins, and, plied by an hundred hands with noisy uproar, the stone door soon gave way, just as Ælia descended and the murderous crew rushed in.

The work of death was in part quickly done. The sons of Macer, who, on the uproar, had instantly joined their mother in spite of all the entreaties of Demetrius, were at once despatched, and dragged forth by ropes attached to their feet. The two youngest, transfixed by spears, were seen borne aloft as bloody standards of that murderous rout. The mother and the other children, placed in a group in the midst of the multitude, were made to march on, the savages themselves being divided as to what should be their fate. Some cried out, 'To the Tiber!'--some, 'Crucify them beyond the walls!--others, 'Give 'em the pavements!' But the voice of one more ingenious in cruelty than the rest prevailed.

'To the square by Hanno's with them!'

This proposition filled them with delight.

'To Hanno's! to Hanno's!' resounded on all sides. And away rushed the infuriated mass to their evil sport.

'And who is Hanno?' I asked of one near me.

'Hanno? know you not Hanno? He is brother of Sosia the gladiator, and breeds dogs for the theatres. You shall soon see what a brood he will turn out. There is no such breeder in Rome as he.'

Sick at heart as I was, I still pressed on, resolved to know all that Christian heroism could teach me. We were soon at the square, capable of holding on its borders not only thousands but tens of thousands, to which number it seemed as if the throng had now accumulated. Hanno's extensive buildings and grounds were upon one side of the square, to which the people now rushed, calling out for the great breeder to come forth with his pack.

He was not slow in obeying the summons. He himself appeared, accompanied, as on the day when Piso saw him on the Capitol Hill, by his two dogs Nero and Sylla. After first stipulating with the ringleaders for a sufficient remuneration, he proceeded to order the game. He was at first for separating the victims, but they implored to be permitted to suffer together, and so much mercy was shown them. They were then set together in the centre of the square, while the multitude disposed themselves in an immense circle around--the windows of the buildings and the roofs of all the neighboring dwellings being also thronged with those who both looked on and applauded. Before the hounds were let loose, Hanno approached this little band, standing there in the midst and clinging to one another, and asked them,

'If they had anything to say, or any message to deliver, for he would faithfully perform what they might enjoin.'

The rest weeping, Ælia answered, 'that she wished to say a few words to the people who stood around.'

'Speak then,' replied Hanno, 'and you shall not be disturbed.'

She then turned toward the people, and said. 'I can wish you, Romans, before I die, no greater good than that, like me and those who are with me, you may one day become Christians. For you will then be incapable of inflicting such sufferings and wrongs upon any human being. The religion of Jesus will not suffer you to do otherwise than love others as you do yourselves; that is the great Christian rule. Be assured that we now die, as Christians, in full faith in Christ and in joyful hope of living with him, so soon as these mortal bodies shall have perished; and that, though a single word of denial would save us, we would not speak it. Ye have cruelly slaughtered the good Macer; do so now by us, if such is your will, and we shall then be with him where he is.'

With these words she again turned, and throwing her arms around her mother and younger sisters, awaited the onset of the furious dogs, whose yellings and strugglings could all the while be heard. She and they waited but a moment, when the blood-hounds, fiercer than the fiercest beasts of the forest, flew from their leashes, and, in less time than would be believed, naught but a heap of bones marked where the Christian family had stood.

The crowds, then fully sated as it seemed with the rare sport of the morning, dispersed, each having something to say to another of the firmness and patriotism of Varus and Fronto,--and of the training and behavior of the dogs.

* * * * *

From the earliest period of reflection have I detested the Roman character; and all that I have witnessed with my own eyes has served but to confirm those early impressions. They are a people wholly destitute of humanity. They are the lineal descendants of robbers, murderers, and warriors--which last are but murderers under another name--and they show their parentage in every line of their hard-featured visages, and still more in all the qualities of the soul. They are stern,--unyielding, unforgiving--cruel. A Roman heart dissected would be found all stone. Any present purpose of passion, or ambition, or party zeal, will extinguish in the Roman all that separates him from the brute. Bear witness to the truth of this, ye massacres of Marius and Sylla! and others, more than can be named, both before and since--when the blood of neighbors, friends, and fellow-citizens, was poured out as freely as if it had been the filthy stream that leaks its way through the public sewers! And, in good sooth, was it not as filthy? For those very ones so slain, had the turn of the wheel--as in very deed has often happened--set them uppermost, would have done the same deed upon the others. Happy is it for the peace of the earth and the great cause of humanity, that this faith of Christ, whether it be true or false, is at length beginning to bear sway, and doing somewhat to soften, what more than twelve centuries have passed over and left in its original vileness.

When, like the rest of that Roman mob, I had been filled with the sights and sounds of the morning, I turned and sought the palace of Piso.

Arriving there I found Portia, Julia, and Piso sitting together at the hour of dinner. I sat with them. Piso had not left the palace, since I had parted from him. They had remained at peace within, and as ignorant of what had happened in the distant parts of the huge capital, as we all were of what was then doing in another planet. When, as the meal drew to a close, I had related to them the occurrences of which I had just been the witness, they could scarce believe what they heard, though it was but what they and all had every reason to look for, from the language which Aurelian had used, and the known hostility of the Prefect. Portia, the mother, was moved more, if it could be so, than even Piso or Julia. When I had ended, she said,

'Think not, Nicomachus, that although, as thou knowest, I am of Aurelian's side in religion, I defend these inhuman wrongs. To inflict them can make no part of the duty of any worshipper of the gods, however zealous he may be. I do not believe that the gods are propitiated by any acts which occasion suffering to their creatures. I have seen no justification under any circumstances of human sacrifices--much less can I see any of sacrifices like those you have this morning witnessed. Aurelian, in authorizing or conniving at such horrors, has cut himself loose from the honor and the affections of all those in Rome whose esteem is worth possessing. He has given himself up to the priesthood, and to the vulgar rabble over whom it exercises a sway more strict than an Eastern despot. He is by these acts turning the current of the best Roman sympathy toward the Christians, and putting off by a long remove the hour when he might hope to see the ancient religion of the state delivered from its formidable rival.'

'It is the purpose of Aurelian,' I said, 'not so much to persecute and annoy the Christians, as to exterminate them. He is persuaded that by using the same extreme and summary measures with the Christians, which he has been accustomed to employ in the army, he can root out this huge evil from the state, as easily as those lesser ones from the camp;--without reflecting that it must be impossible to discover all, or any very large proportion of those who profess Christianity, and that therefore his slaughter of a half or a quarter of the whole number, will be to no purpose. It will have been but killing so many--there will be no other effect; unless, indeed, it have the effect to convince new thousands of the power, and worth, and divinity of that faith, for which men are so willing to die.'

'I mourn,' said Portia, 'that the great head of the state, and the great high priest of our religion should have taken the part he has. Measures of moderation and true wisdom, though they might not have obtained for him so great a name for zeal and love of the gods, nor made so sudden and deep an impression upon the common mind and heart, would have secured with greater probability the end at which he has aimed.'

'It is hard.' said I, 'to resist nature, especially so when superstition comes in to its aid. Aurelian, by nature a savage, is doubly one through the influence of his religion and the priesthood. Moderation and humanity are so contrary to every principle of the man and his faith, that they are not with more reason to be looked for from him than gentleness in a famished wolf.'

Portia looked as if I had assailed the walls and capitol of Rome.

'I know not, Greek,' she quickly said, 'on what foundation it is you build so heavy a charge against the time-honored faith of Rome. It has served Rome well these thousand years, and reared men whose greatness will dwell in the memory of the world while the world lasts.'

'Great men have been reared in Rome,' I replied; 'it can by none be denied. But it has been by resisting the influences of their religion, not by courting them. They have left themselves in this to the safer tutelage of nature, as have you, lady; and they have escaped the evils, which the common superstition would have entailed upon them, had they admitted it to their bosoms. Who can deny that the religion of Rome, so far as it is a religion for the common people, is based up on the characters of the gods, as they through history and tradition are held up to them--especially as they are painted by the poets? Say if there be any other books of authority on this great theme than the poets? What book of religious instruction and precept have you, or have you ever had, corresponding to the volume of the Christians, called their gospels?'

'We have none,' said Portia, as I paused compelling a rejoinder. 'It is true, we have but our historians and our poets, with what we find in the philosophers.'

'And the philosophers,' I replied, 'it will be seen at once can never be in the hands of the common people. Whence then do they receive their religious ideas, but from tradition, and the character of the deities of heaven, as they are set forth in the poets? And if this be so, I need not ask whether it be possible that the religion of Rome should be any other than a source of corruption to the people. So far as the gods should be their models, they can do no otherwise than help to sink their imitators lower and lower in all filth and vice. Happily for Rome and the world, lady, men instinctively revolt at such examples, and copy instead the pattern which their own souls supply. Had the Romans been all which the imitation of their gods would have made them, this empire had long ago sunk under the deep pollution. Fronto and Aurelian--the last at least sincere--aim at a restoration of religion. They would lift it up to the highest place, and make it the sovereign law of Rome. In this attempt, they are unconsciously digging away her very foundations; they are leveling her proud walls with the earth. Suppose Rome were made what Fronto would have her? Every Roman were then another Fronto--or another Aurelian. Were that a world to live in? or to endure? These, lady, are the enemies of Rome, Aurelian and Fronto. The only hope for Rome lies, in the reception of some such principles as these of the Christians. Whether true or false, as a revelation from Heaven, they are in accordance with the best part of our nature, and, once spread abroad and received, they would tend by a mighty influence to exalt it more and more. They would descend, as it is of the nature of absolute truth to do, and lay hold of the humblest and lowest and vilest, and in them erect their authority, and bring them into the state, in which every man should be, for the reason that he is a man. Helenism cannot do this.'

'Notwithstanding what I have heard, Nicomachus, I think you must yourself be a Christian. But whether you are or not, I grant you to understand well what religion should be. And I must say that it has ever been such to me. I, from what I have read of our moralists and philosophers, and from what I have reflected, have arrived at principles not very different from such as you have now hinted at--'

'And are those of Fronto or Varus like yours, lady?'

'I fear not,' said Portia.

'Yours then, let me say, are the religion, which you have first found within your own breast, a gift from the gods, and then by meditation have confirmed and exalted; theirs, the common faith of Rome. Could your faith rejoice in or permit the horrors I have this day witnessed and but now described? Yet of theirs they are the legitimate fruit, the necessary product.'

'Out of the best,' replied Portia, 'I believe, Nicomachus, may often come the worst. There is naught so perfect and so wise, but human passions will mar and pervert it. I should not wonder if, in ages to come, this peace-loving faith of the Christians, should it survive so long, should itself come to preside over scenes as full of misery and guilt as those you have to-day seen in the streets of Rome.'

'It may be,' I rejoined. 'But it is nevertheless our duty, in the selection of our principles, to take those which are the purest, the most humane, the most accordant with what is best in us, and the least liable to perversion and abuse. And whether, if this be just, it be better that mankind should have presented for their imitation and honor the character and actions of Jesus Christ, or those of Jupiter "Greatest and Best," may be left for the simplest to determine.'

Portia is so staunch a Roman, that one cannot doubt that as she was born and has lived, so she will die--a Roman. And truth to say, were all like her, there were little room for quarrel with the principles that could produce such results. But for one such, there are a thousand like Varus, Fronto, and Aurelian.

As after this interview, which was prolonged till the shades of evening began to fall, I held communion with myself on the way to the quiet retreats of Tibur, I could not but entertain apprehensions for the safety of the friends I had just left. I felt that where such men as Varus and Fronto were at the head of affairs, wielding, almost as they pleased, the omnipotence of Aurelian, no family nor individual of whatever name or rank could feel secure of either fortune or life. I had heard indeed such expressions of regard fall from the Emperor for Piso and his beautiful wife, that I was sure that if any in Rome might feel safe, it was they. Yet why should he, who had fallen with fatal violence upon one of his own household, and such a one as Aurelia, hesitate to strike the family of Piso, if thereby religion or the state were to be greatly benefited? I could see a better chance for them only in the Emperor's early love of Julia, which still seemed to exercise over him a singular power.

The Queen, I found, upon naming to her the subject of my thoughts, could entertain none of my apprehensions. It is so difficult for her nature to admit the faintest purpose of the infliction of wanton suffering, that she cannot believe it of others. Notwithstanding her experience of the harsh and cruel spirit of Aurelian, notwithstanding the unnecessary destruction, for any national or political object, of the multitudes of Palmyra, still she inclines to confide in him. He has given so many proofs of regret for that wide ruin, he has suffered so much for it--especially for his murder of Longinus--in the opinion of all Rome, and of the highest and best in all nations, that she is persuaded he will be more cautious than ever whom he assails, and where he scatters ruin and death. Still, such is her devotion to Julia and her love of Piso--so entirely is her very life lodged in that of her daughter, that she resolved to seek the Emperor without delay, and if possible obtain an assurance of their safety, both from his own arm and that of popular violence. This I urged upon her with all the freedom I might use; and not in vain; for the next day, at the gardens of Sallust, she had repeated interviews with Aurelian--and afterward at her own palace, whither Aurelian came with Livia, and where, while Livia ranged among the flowers with Faustula, the Emperor and the Queen held earnest discourse--not only on the subject which chiefly agitated Zenobia, but on the general principles on which he was proceeding in this attempted annihilation of Christianity. Sure I am, that never in the Christian body itself was there one who pleaded their cause with a more winning and persuasive eloquence.