Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century
they were ready, and would rejoice to bear their testimony in the cause
of Christ. As I turned to resume my way, his words were; 'Go on, thou
man of pride and blood; go on thy way! The gates of hell swing open for
thee! Already the arm of the Lord is bared against thee! the winged
lightning struggles in his hand to smite thee! I hear thy cry for mercy
which no one answers--' and more, till I was beyond the reach of his
owl's voice. There was an appeal, Piso, from this people! What think you
of it?'
'He whom you heard,' I replied, 'I know, and know him to be honest and
true; as loyal a subject too as Rome holds. He is led away by his hot
and hasty temper both to do and say what injures not only him, but all
who are joined with him, and the cause he defends. He offends the
Christians hardly less than others. Judge not all by him. He stands
alone. If you would hear one whom all alike confide in, and who may
fitly represent the feelings and principles of the whole body of
Christians, summon Probus. From him may you learn without exaggeration
or concealment, without reproach of others or undue boasting of
themselves, what the Christians are in their doctrines and their lives,
as citizens of Rome and loyal subjects of Aurelian, and what, as
citizens of heaven and loyal followers of Jesus Christ.'
The Emperor promised to consider it. He had no other reason to deny such
favor, but the tedium of listening to what could profit neither him nor
others.
We then turned toward the palace, where I saw Livia; now as silent and
sad as, when in Palmyra, she was lively and gay. Not that Aurelian
abates the least of his worship, but that the gloom which overshadows
him imparts itself to her, and that knowing what has befallen Aurelia,
she cannot but feel it to be a possible thing for the blow to fall
elsewhere and nearer. Yet is there the same outward show as ever. The
palace is still thronged, with not Rome only, but by strangers from all
quarters of the empire, anxious to pay their homage at once to the
Empress of Rome, to the most beautiful woman in the world--such is the
language--and to a daughter of the far-famed Zenobia.
The city is now crowded with travelers of all nations, so much so that
the inns can scarce receive them; and hardly ever before was private
hospitality so put to all its resources. With all, and everywhere, in
the streets, at the public baths, in the porticos, at the private or
public banquet, the Christians are the one absorbing topic. And, at
least, this good comes with the evil, that thus the character of this
religion, as compared with that of Rome and other faiths, is made known
to thousands who might otherwise never have heard of it, or have felt
interest enough in it to examine its claims. It leads to a large demand
for, and sale of, our sacred books. The copyists can hardly supply them
so fast as they are wanted. For in the case of any dispute or
conversation, it is common to hear the books themselves referred to,
and then to be called in as witnesses for or against a statement made.
And pleasant enough is it to see how clear the general voice is on our
side--especially with the strangers--how indignant they are, for the
most part, that violence, to the extreme of another Decian persecution,
should be so much as dreamed of. Would that the same could be said of
our citizens and countrymen! A large proportion of them indeed embrace
the same liberal sentiments, but a greater part, if not for extreme
violence, are yet for oppression and suppression; and I dare not say how
many, for all that Aurelian himself designs. Among the lower orders,
especially, a ferocious and blood-thirsty spirit breaks out in a
thousand ways that fills the bosom both with grief and terror.
The clouds are gathering over us, Fausta, heavy and black with the
tempest pent up within. The thunders are rolling in the distance, and
each hour coming nearer and nearer. Whom the lightnings shall
strike--how vain to conjecture! Would to God that Julia were
anywhere but here! For, to you I may say it, I cannot trust
Aurelian--yes--Aurelian himself I may; but not Aurelian the tool of
Fronto. Farewell.
LETTER IX.
FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.
When I turned from the palace of Aurelian and again took my way towards
the Coelian, I did it in the belief that before the day should end,
edicts against the Christians would be published. I found, as I
conversed with many whom I met in the way, that from other sources the
same opinion had become common. In one manner or another it had come
abroad that measures had been resolved upon by the Emperor, and would
soon be put in force. Many indeed do not give the least credit to the
rumors, and believe that they all spring from the violent language of
Fronto, which has been reported as that of Aurelian. You may wonder that
there should be such uncertainty respecting a great design like this.
But you must remember that Aurelian has of late shrouded himself in a
studied obscurity. Not a despot, in the despotic lands of Asia, keeps
more secret counsel than he, or leans less upon the opinion or advice of
others. All that is done throughout the vast compass of the empire,
springs from him alone--all the affairs of foreign and dependent
kingdoms are arranged and determined by him. As for Italy and the
capital, they are mere playthings in his hand. You ask if the senate
does not still exist? I answer, it does; but, as a man exists whom a
palsy has made but half alive; the body is there, but the soul is gone,
and even the body is asleep. The senators, with all becoming gravity,
assemble themselves at the capitol, and what time they sleep not away
the tedious hours in their ivory chairs, they debate such high matters
as, 'whether the tax which this year falls heavy upon Capua, by reason
of a blast upon the grapes, shall be lightened or remitted!' or 'whether
the petition of the Milanese for the construction at the public expense
of a granary shall be answered favorably!' or 'whether V. P. Naso shall
be granted a new trial after defeat at the highest court!' Not that
there is not virtue in the senate, some dignity, some respect and love
for the liberties of Rome--witness myself--but that the Emperor has
engrossed the whole empire to himself, and nothing is left for that body
but to keep alive the few remaining forms of ancient liberty, by
assembling as formerly, and taking care of whatever insignificant
affairs are intrusted to them. In a great movement like this against the
Christians, Aurelian does not so much as recognize their existence. No
advice is asked, no cooeperation. And the less is he disposed to
communicate with them in the present instance perhaps, from knowing so
well that the measure would find no favor in their eyes; but would, on
the contrary, be violently opposed. Everything, accordingly, originates
in the sovereign will of Aurelian, and is carried into effect by his arm
wielding the total power of this boundless empire--being now, what it
has been his boast to make it, coextensive with its extremest borders as
they were in the time of the Antonines. There is no power to resist him;
nor are there many who dare to utter their real opinions, least of all,
a senator, or a noble. A beggar in the street may do it with better
chance of its being respected, if agreeable to him, and of escaping
rebuke or worse, if it be unpalatable. To the people, he is still, as
ever, courteous and indulgent.
* * * * *
There is throughout the city a strange silence and gloom, as if in
expectancy of some great calamity; or of some event of dark and
uncertain character. The Christians go about their affairs as usual, not
ceasing from any labors, nor withdrawing from the scene of danger; but
with firm step and serious air keep on their way as if conscious of the
great part which it is theirs to act, and resolved that it shall not
suffer at their hands. Many with whom I have spoken, put on even a
cheerful air as they have greeted me, and after the usual morning's
salutation, have passed on as if things were in their usual train.
Others with pale face and quivering lip confessed the inward tumult, and
that, if they feared naught for themselves, there were those at home,
helpless and exposed, for whom the heart bled, and for whom it could not
but show signs of fear.
I met the elder Demetrius. His manly and thoughtful countenance--though
it betrayed nothing of weakness--was agitated with suppressed emotion.
He is a man full of courage, but full of sensibility too. His affections
are warm and tender as those of a girl. He asked me 'what I could inform
him of the truth of the rumors which were now afloat of the most
terrific character.' I saw where his heart was as he spoke, and answered
him, as you may believe, with pain and reluctance. I knew, indeed, that
the whole truth would soon break upon him--it was a foolish
weakness--but I could hardly bring myself to tell him what a few hours
would probably reveal. I told him, however, all that I had just learned
from Aurelian himself, and which, as he made no reserve with regard to
me, nor enjoined concealment, I did not doubt was fully resolved upon,
and would be speedily put in force. As I spoke, the countenance of the
Greek grew pale beyond its usual hue of paleness. He bent his head, as
in perplexed and anxious thought; the tears were ready to overflow as he
raised it, after a moment, and said,
'Piso, I am but recently a Christian. I know nothing of this religion
but its beauty and truth. It is what I have ever longed for, and now
that I possess it I value it far more than life. But,'--he paused a
moment--'I have mingled but little with this people; I know scarcely
any; I am ignorant of what they require of those who belong to their
number in such emergences. I am ready to die myself, rather than shrink
from a bold acknowledgment of what in my heart I believe to be the
divinest truth; but--my wife and my children!--must they too meet these
dangers? My wife has become what I am; my children are but infants; a
Greek vessel sails to-morrow for Scio, where dwells, in peaceful
security, the father of my wife, from whom I received her, almost to his
distraction; her death would be his immolation. Should I offend'--
'Surely not,' I replied. 'If, as I believe will happen, the edicts of
the Emperor should be published to-day, put them on board to-night, and
let to-morrow see them floating on the Mediterranean. We are not all to
stand still and hold our throats to the knife of this imperial butcher.'
'God be thanked!' said Demetrius, and grasping my hand with fervor
turned quickly and moved in the direction of his home.
Soon after, seated with Julia and Probus--he had joined me as I parted
from Demetrius--I communicated to her all that I had heard at the
palace. It neither surprised nor alarmed her. But she could not repress
her grief at the prospect spread out before us of so much suffering to
the innocent.
'How hard is this,' said she, 'to be called to bear such testimony as
must now be borne to truth! These Christian multitudes, so many of whom
have but just adopted their new faith and begun to taste of the
pleasures it imparts, all enjoying in such harmony and quietness their
rich blessings--with many their only blessings--how hard for them, all
at once, to see the foundations of their peace broken up, and their very
lives clamored for! rulers and people setting upon them as troops of
wild beasts! It demands almost more faith than I can boast, to sit here
without complaint a witness of such wrong. How strange, Probus, that
life should be made so difficult! That not a single possession worth
having can be secured without so much either of labor or endurance! I
wonder if this is ever to cease on earth?'