Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century
'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.'