If Aurelian sat in his chair of gold, looking the omnipotent master of all the world, as if no mere mortal force could drive him from the place he held and filled—Probus, on his part, though he wanted all that air of pride and self-confidence written upon every line of Aurelian's face and form, yet seemed like one, who, in the very calmness of an unfaltering trust in a goodness and power above that of earth, was in perfect possession of himself, and fearless of all that man might say or do. His face was pale; but his eye was clear. His air was that of a man mild and gentle, who would not injure willingly the meanest thing endowed with life; but of a man too of that energy and inward strength of purpose, that he would not on the other hand suffer an injury to be done to another, if any power lodged within him could prevent it. It was that of a man to be loved, and yet to be feared; whose compassion you might rely upon; but whose indignation at wrong and injustice might also be relied upon, whenever the weak or the oppressed should cry out for help against the strong and the cruel.

No sooner had Aurelian seated himself, and the thronged apartment become still, than he turned to those who were present and said,

'That the Christians had desired this audience before him and the sacred senate, and he had therefore granted them their request. And he was now here, to listen to whatever they might urge in their behalf. But,' said he, 'I tell them now, as I have told them before, that it can be of no avail. The acts of former Emperors, from Nero to the present hour, have sufficiently declared what the light is in which a true Roman should view the superstition that would supplant the ancient worship of the gods. It is enough for me, that such is the acknowledged aim, and asserted tendency and operation of this Jewish doctrine. No merits of any kind can atone for the least injury it might inflict upon that venerable order of religious worship which, from the time of Romulus, has exercised over us its benignant influence, and, doubtless, by the blessings it has drawn down upon us from the gods, crowned our arms with a glory the world has never known before—putting under our feet every civilized kingdom from the remotest East to the farthest West, and striking terror into the rude barbarians of the German forests. Nevertheless, they shall be heard; and if it is from thee, Christian, that we are to know what thy faith is, let us now hear whatever it is in thy heart to say. There shall no bridle be put upon thee; but thou hast freest leave to utter what thou wilt. There is nothing of worst concerning either Rome or her worship, her rulers or her altars, her priesthood or her gods, but thou mayest pour it forth in such measure as shall please thee, and no one shall say thee nay. Now say on; the day and the night are before thee.'

'I shall require, great Emperor,' replied Probus, 'but little of either; yet I thank thee, and all of our name who are here present thank thee, for the free range which thou hast offered. I thank thee too, and so do we all, for the liberty of frank and undisturbed speech, which thou hast assured to me. Yet shall I not use it to malign either the Romans or their faith. It is not with anger and fierce denunciation, O Emperor, that it becomes the advocate, of what he believes to be a religion from Heaven, to assail the adherents of a religion like this of Rome, descended to the present generation through so many ages, and which all who have believed it in times past, and all who believe it now, do hold to be true and woven into the very life of the state—the origin of its present greatness, and without which it must fall asunder into final ruin, the bond that held it together being gone. If the religion of Rome be false, or really injurious, it is not the generations now living who are answerable for its existence formerly or now, nor for the principles, truths, or rites, which constitute it. They have received it, as they have received a thousand customs which are now among them, by inheritance from the ancestors who bequeathed them, which they received at too early an age to judge concerning their fitness or unfitness, but to which, for the reason of that early reception, they have become fondly attached, even as to parents, brothers, and sisters, from whom they have never been divided. It becomes not the Christian, therefore, to load with reproaches those who are placed where they are, not by their own will, but by the providence of the Great Ruler. Neither does it become you of the Roman faith to reproach us for the faith to which we adhere; because the greater proportion of us also have inherited our religion, as you yours, from parents and a community who professed it before us, and all regard it as heaven-descended, and so proved to be divine, that without inexpiable guilt we may not refuse to accept it. It must be in the face of reason, then, and justice, in the face of what is both wise and merciful, if either should judge harshly of the other.

'Besides, what do I behold in this wide devotion of the Roman people to the religion of their ancestors, but a testimony, beautiful for the witness it bears, to the universality of that principle or feeling, which binds the human heart to some god or gods, in love and worship? The worship may be wrong, or greatly imperfect, and sometimes injurious; the god or gods may be so conceived of, as to act with hurtful influences upon human character and life; still it is religion; it is a sentiment that raises the thoughts of the humble and toilworn from the earthly and the perishing, to the heavenly and the eternal. And this, though accompanied by some or many rites shocking to humanity, and revolting to reason, is better than that men were, in this regard, no higher nor other than brutes; but received their being as they do theirs, they know not whence, and when they lose it, depart like them, they know not and care not whither. In the religious character of the Roman people—for religious in the earlier ages of this empire they eminently were, and they are religious now, though in less degree—I behold and acknowledge the providence of God, who has so framed us that our minds tend by resistless force to himself; satisfied at first with low and crude conceptions, but ever aspiring after those that shall be worthier and worthier.

'And now, O Emperor, for the same reason that we believe God the creator did implant in us all, of all tribes and tongues, this deep desire to know, worship, and enjoy him, so that no people have ever been wholly ignorant of him, do we believe that he has, in these latter years, declared himself to mankind more plainly than he did in the origin of things, or than he does through our own reason, so that men may, by such better knowledge of himself and of all necessary truth which he has imparted, be raised to a higher virtue on earth, and made fit for a more exalted life in heaven. We believe that he has thus declared himself by him whom you have heard named as the Master and Lord of the Christian, and after whom they are called, Jesus Christ. Him, God the creator, we believe, sent into the world to teach a better religion than the world had; and to break down and forever destroy, through the operation of his truth, a thousand injurious forms of false belief. It is this religion which we would extend, and impart to those who will open their minds to consider its claims, and their hearts to embrace its truths, when they have once been seen to be divine. This has been our task and our duty in Rome, to beseech you not blindly to receive, but strictly to examine, and, if found to be true, then humbly and gratefully to adopt this new message from above—'

'By the gods, Aurelian,' exclaimed Porphyrius, 'these Christians are kindly disposed! their benevolence and their philosophy are alike. We are obliged to them—'

'Not now, Porphyrius,' said Aurelian. 'Disturb not the Christian. Say on, Probus.'

'We hope,' continued Probus, nothing daunted by the scornful jeers of the philosopher, 'that we are sincerely desirous of your welfare, and so pray that in the lapse of years all may, as some have done, take at our hands the good we proffer them; for, sure we are, that would all so receive it, Rome would tower upwards with a glory and a beauty that should make her a thousand-fold more honored and beloved than now, and her roots would strike down, and so fasten themselves in the very centre of the earth, that well might she then be called the Eternal City. Yet, O Emperor, though such is our aim and purpose; though we would propagate a religion from God, and, in doing so, are willing to labor our lives long, and, if need be, die in the sacred cause, yet are we charged as atheists. The name by which we are known, as much as by that of Christian, is atheist—'

'Such, I have surely believed you,' said Porphyrius, again breaking in, 'and, at this moment, do.'

'But it is a name, Aurelian, fixed upon us ignorantly or slanderously; ignorantly, I am willing to believe. We believe in a God, O Emperor; it is to him we live, and to him we die. The charge of atheism I thus publicly deny, as do all Christians who are here, as would all throughout the world with one acclaim, were they also here, and would all seal their testimony, if need were, with their blood. We believe in God; not in many gods, some greater and some lesser, as with you, and whose forms are known and can be set forth in images and statues—but in one, one God, the sole monarch of the universe; whom no man, be he never so cunning, can represent in wood, or brass, or stone; whom, so to represent in any imaginary shape, our faith denounces as unlawful and impious. Hence it is, O Emperor, because the vulgar, when they enter our churches or our houses, see there no image of god or goddess, that they imagine we are without a God, and without his worship. And such conclusion may in them be excused. For, till they are instructed, it may not be easy for them to conceive of one God, filling Heaven and earth with his presence. But in others it is hard to see how they think us atheists on the same ground, since nothing can be plainer than that among you, the intelligent, and the philosophers especially, believe as we do in a great pervading invisible spirit of the universe. Plato worshipped not nor believed in these stone or wooden gods; nor in any of the fables of the Greek religion; yet who ever has charged him with atheism? So was it with the great Longinus. I see before me those who are now famed for their science in such things, who are the teachers of Rome in them, yet not one, I may venture to declare, believes other than as Plato and Longinus did in this regard. It is an error or a calumny that has ever prevailed concerning us; but in former times some have had the candor, when the error has been removed, to confess publicly that they had been subject to it. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius, to name no other, when, in the straits into which he was fallen at Cotinus, he charged his disasters upon the Christian soldiers, and, they praying prostrate upon the earth for him and his army and empire, he forthwith gained the victory, which before he had despaired of—did then immediately acknowledge that they had a God, and that they should no longer be reviled as atheists; since it was plain that men might believe in a God, and carry about the image of him in their own minds, though they had no visible one. It is thus we are all believers. We carry about with us, in the sanctuary of our own bosoms, our image of the great and almighty God whom we serve; and before that, and that only, do we bow down and worship. Were we indeed atheists, it were not unreasonable that you dealt with us as you now do, nay and much more severely; for, where belief in a God does not exist, it is not easy to see how any state can long hold together. The necessary bond is wanting, and, as a sheaf of wheat when the band is broken, it must fall asunder.

'The first principle of the religion of Christ is this belief in God; in his righteous providence here on earth, and in a righteous retribution hereafter. How then can the religion of Christ in this respect be of dangerous influence or tendency? It is well known to all, who are acquainted in the least with history or philosophy, that in the religion of the Jews, the belief and worship of one God almost constitutes the religion itself. Every thing else is inferior and subordinate. In this respect the religion of Jesus is like that of the Jews. It is exceeding jealous of the honor and worship of this one God—this very same God of the Jews; for Jesus was himself a Jew, and has revealed to us the same God whom we are required to worship, only with none of the ceremonies, rites, and sacrifices, which were peculiar to that people. It is this which has caused us, equally to our and their displeasure, frequently to be confounded together, and mistaken the one for the other. But the differences between us are, excepting in the great doctrine I have just named, very great and essential. This doctrine therefore, which is the chief of all, being so fundamental with us, it is not easy, I say, to see how we can on religious accounts be dangerous to the state. For many things are comprehended in and follow from this faith. It is not a barren, unprofitable speculation, but a practical and restraining doctrine of the greatest moral efficiency. If it be not this to us, to all and every one of us, it is not what it ought to be and we wrongly understand or else wilfully pervert it.

'We believe that we are everywhere surrounded by the presence of our God: that he is our witness every moment, and everywhere conscious, as we are ourselves, of our words, acts, and thoughts; and will bring us all to a strict account at last for whatever he has thus witnessed that has been contrary to that rigid law of holy living which he has established over us in Christ. Must not this act upon us most beneficially? We believe that in himself he is perfect purity, and that he demands of us that we be so in our degree also. We can impute to him none of the acts, such as the believers in the Greek and Roman religions freely ascribe to their Jove, and so have not, as others have, in such divine example, a warrant and excuse for the like enormities. This one God too we also regard as our judge, who will in the end sit upon our conduct throughout the whole of our lives, and punish or reward according to what we shall have been, just as the souls of men, according to your belief, receive their sentence at the bar of Minos and Rhadamanthus. And other similar truths are wrapt up with and make a part of this great primary one. Wherefore it is most evident, that nothing can be more false and absurd than to think and speak of us as atheists and for that reason a nuisance in the state.

'But it is not only that we are atheists, but that, through our atheism, we are to be looked upon as disorderly members of society, disturbers of the peace, disaffected and rebellious citizens, that we hear on every side. I do not believe that this charge has ever been true of any, much less of all. Or if any Christian has at any time and for any reason disobeyed the laws, withheld his taxes when they have been demanded, or neglected any duties which, as a citizen of Rome, he has owed to the Emperor, or any representative of him, then so far he has not been a Christian. Christ's kingdom is not of this world—though, because we so often and so much speak of a kingdom, we have been thought to aim at one on earth—it is above; and he requires us while here below to be obedient to the laws and the rulers that are set up over us, so far as we deem them in accordance with the everlasting laws of God and of right; to pay tribute to whomsoever it is due; here in Rome to Caesar; and, wherever we are, to be loyal and quiet citizens of the state. And the reception of his religion tends to make such of us all. Whoever adopts the faith of the gospel of Jesus will be a virtuous, and holy, and devout man, and therefore, both in Rome, in Persia, and in India, and everywhere, a good subject.

'We defend not nor abet, great Emperor, the act of that holy but impetuous and passionate man, who so lately, in defiance of the imperial edict and before either remonstrance or appeal on our part, preached on the very steps of the capitol, and there committed that violence for which he hath already answered with his life. We defend him not in that; but neither do we defend, but utterly condemn and execrate the unrighteous haste, and the more than demoniac barbarity of his death. God, we rejoice in all our afflictions to believe, is over all, and the wicked, the cruel, and the unjust, shall not escape.

'Yet it must be acknowledged that there are higher duties than those which we owe to the state, even as there is a higher sovereign to whom we owe allegiance than the head of the state, whether that head be king, senate, or emperor. Man is not only a subject and a citizen, he is first of all the creature of God, and amenable to his laws. When therefore there is a conflict between the laws of God and the king, who can doubt which are to be obeyed?—'

'Who does not see,' cried Porphyrius vehemently, 'that in such principles there lurks the blackest treason? for who but themselves are to judge when the laws of the two sovereigns do thus conflict? and what law then may be promulged, but to them it may be an offence?'

'Let not the learned Porphyrius,' resumed Probus, 'rest in but a part of what I say. Let him hear the whole, and then deny the principle if he can. I say, when the law of God and the law of man are opposite the one to the other, we are not to hesitate which to obey and which to break; our first allegiance is due to Heaven. And it is true that we ourselves are to be the judges in the case. But then we are judges under the same stern laws of conscience toward God, which compel us to violate the law of the empire, though death in its most terrific form be the penalty. And is it likely therefore that we shall, for frivolous causes, or imaginary ones, or none at all, hold it to be our duty to rebel against the law of the land? To think so were to rate us low indeed. They may surely be trusted to make this decision, whose fidelity to conscience in other emergences brings down upon them so heavy a load of calamity. I may appeal moreover to all, I think, who hear me, of the common faith, whether they themselves would not hold by the same principle? Suppose the case that your supreme god—"Jupiter greatest and best"—or the god beyond and above him, in whom your philosophers have faith—revealed a law, requiring what the law of the empire forbids, must you not, would you not, if your religion were anything more than a mere pretence, obey the god rather than the man? Although therefore, great Emperor, we blame the honest Macer for his precipitancy, yet it ought to be, and is, the determination of us all to yield obedience to no law which violates the law of Heaven. We having received the faith of Christ in trust, to be by us dispensed to mankind, and believing the welfare of mankind to depend upon the wide extension of it, we will rather die than shut it up in our own bosoms—we will rather die, than live with our tongues tied and silent—our limbs fettered and bound! We must speak, or we will die—'

Porphyrius again sprang from his seat with intent to speak, but the Emperor restrained him.

'Contend not now, Porphyrius; let us hear the Christian. I have given him his freedom. Infringe it not.'

'I will willingly, noble Emperor,' said Probus, 'respond to whatsoever the learned Tyrian may propose. All I can desire is this only, that the religion of Christ may be seen, by those who are here, to be what it truly is; and it may be, that the questions or the objections of the philosopher shall show this more perfectly than a continued discourse.'

The Emperor, however, making a sign, he went on.

'We have also been charged, O Emperor, with vices and crimes, committed at both our social and our religious meetings, at which nature revolts, which are even beyond in grossness what have been ever ascribed to the most flagitious of mankind.'—Probus here enumerated the many rumors which had long been and still were current in Rome, and, especially by the lower orders, believed; and drew then such a picture of the character, lives, manners, and morals of the Christians, for the truth of which he appealed openly to noble and distinguished persons among the Romans then present,—not of the Christian faith, but who were yet well acquainted with their character and condition, and who would not refuse to testify to what he had said—that there could none have been present in that vast assembly but who, if there were any sense of justice within them, must have dismissed forever from their minds, if they had ever entertained them, the slanderous fictions that had filled them.

To report to you, Fausta, this part of his defence, must be needless, and could not prove otherwise than painful. He then also refuted in the same manner other common objections alleged against the Christians and their worship; the lateness of its origin; its beggarly simplicity; the low and ignorant people who alone or chiefly, both in Rome and throughout the world, have received it; the fierce divisions and disputes among the Christians themselves; the uncertainty of its doctrines; the rigor of its morality, as unsuited to mankind; as also its spiritual worship; the slowness of its progress, and the little likelihood that, if God were its author, he would leave it to be trodden under foot and so nearly annihilated by the very people to whom he was sending it; these and other similar things usually urged against the Christians, and now for the first time, it is probable, by most of the Romans present, heard, refuted, and explained, did Probus set forth, both with brevity and force; making nothing tedious by reason of a frivolous minuteness, nor yet omitting a single topic or argument, which it was due to the cause he defended, to bring before the minds of that august assembly. He then ended his appeal in the following manner:

'And now, great Emperor, must you have seen, in what I have already said, what the nature and character of this religion is; for in denying and disproving the charges that have been brought against it, I have, in most particulars, alleged and explained some opposite truth or doctrine, by which it is justly characterized. But that you may be informed the more exactly for what it is you are about to persecute and destroy us, and for what it is that we cheerfully undergo torture and death sooner than surrender or deny it, listen yet a moment longer. You have heard that we are named after Jesus, Jesus of Nazareth in Galilee, who, in the reign of Tiberius, was born in Judea, and there lived and taught, a prophet and messenger of God, till he was publicly crucified by his bitter enemies the Jews. We do not doubt, nay, we all steadfastly believe, that this Jesus was the Son of the Most High God, by reason of his wonderful endowments and his delegated office as the long-looked-for Messiah of the Jews. As the evidences of his great office and of his divine origin, he performed those miracles that filled with astonishment the whole Jewish nation, and strangers from all parts of the world; and so wrought even upon the mind of your great predecessor, the Emperor Tiberius, that he would fain receive him into the number of the gods of Rome. And why, O Emperor, was this great personage sent forth into the world, encircled by the rays of divine power and wisdom and goodness, an emanation of the self-existent and infinite God? And why do we so honor him, and cleave to him, that we are ready to offer our lives in sacrifice, while we go forth as preachers of his faith, making him known to all nations as the universal Saviour and Redeemer? This Jesus came into the world, and lived and taught; was preceded by so long a preparation of prophetic annunciation, and accompanied by so sublime demonstrations of almighty power, to this end, and to this end only, that he might save us from our sins, and from those penal consequences in this world and in worlds to come, which are bound to them by the stern decrees of fate. Yes, Aurelian, Jesus came only that he might deliver mankind from the thraldom of every kind of wickedness, and raise them to a higher condition of virtue and happiness. He was a great moral and religious teacher and reformer, endowed with the wisdom and power of the supreme God. He himself toiled only in Judea; but he came a benefactor of Rome too—of Rome as well as of Judea. He came to purge it of its pollutions; to check in their growth those customs and vices which seem destined, reaching their natural height and size, to overlay and bury in final ruin the city and the empire; he came to make us citizens of Heaven through the virtues which his doctrine should build up in the soul, and so citizens of Rome more worthy of that name than any who ever went before. He came to heal, to mend, to reform the state; not to set up a kingdom in hostility to this, but in unison with it; an inward, invisible kingdom in every man's heart, which should be as the soul of the other.

'It was to reform the morals of the state, to save it from itself, that you, Aurelian, in the first years of your reign, applied those energies that have raised the empire to more than its ancient glory. You aimed to infuse a love of justice and of peace, to abate the extravagances of the times, to stem the tide of corruption that seemed about to bear down upon its foul streams the empire itself, tossing upon its surface a wide sea of ruin. It was a great work—too great for man. It needed a divine strength and a more than human wisdom. These were not yours; and it is no wonder that the work did not go on to its completion. Jesus is a reformer; of Rome and of the world also. The world is his theatre of action; but with him there is leagued the arm and the power of the Supreme God; and the work which he attempts shall succeed. It cannot but succeed. It is not so much he, Jesus of Nazareth, who has come forth upon this great errand of mercy and love to mankind, as God himself in and through him. It is the Great God of the Universe, who, by Jesus Christ as his agent and messenger, comes to you, and would reform and redeem your empire, and out of that which is transitory, and by its inherent vice threatened with decay and death, make a city and an empire which, through the energy of its virtues, shall truly be eternal. Can you not, O Emperor, supposing the claims of this religion to a divine origin to be just, view it with respect? Nay, could you not greet its approach to your capital with pleasure and gratitude, seeing its aim is nothing else than this, to purify, purge, and reform the state, to heal its wounds, cleanse its putrifying members, and infuse the element of a new and healthier life? Methinks a true patriot and lover of Rome must rejoice when any power approaches and offers to apply those remedies that may, with remotest probability only, bid fair to cure the diseases of which her body is sick, nigh unto death.

'Such, Aurelian, was and is the aim of Jesus, in the religion which he brought. And of us, who are his ministers, his messengers—who go forth bearing these glad tidings of deliverance from sin and corruption, and of union with God—our work is the same with his. We but repeat the lessons which he gave. Are we, in so doing, enemies of Rome? Are we not rather her truest friends? By making men good, just, kind, and honest, are we not at the same time making them the best citizens? Are there in Rome better citizens than the Christians?

'You will now perhaps, Aurelian, desire to be told by what instruments Christianity hopes to work such changes. It is simply, O Emperor, by the power of truth! The religion which we preach uses not force. Were the arm of Aurelian at this moment the arm of Probus, he could do no more than he now does with one, which, as the world deems, is in the comparison powerless as an infant's. In all that pertains to the soul, and its growth and purification, there must be utmost freedom. The soul must suffer no constraint. There must be no force laid upon it, but the force of reason and the appeal of divine truth. All that we ask or want in Rome is the liberty of speech—the free allowance to offer to men the truth in Christ, and persuade them to consider it. With that we will engage to reform and save the whole world. We want not to meddle with affairs of state, nor with the citizen's relations to the state; we have naught to do with the city, or its laws, or government, beyond what was just now stated. We desire but the privilege to worship God according to our consciences, and labor for the moral welfare of all who will hear our words.

'And if you would know what the truth is we impart, and by which we would save the souls of men, and reform the empire and the world, be it known to you that we preach Jesus Christ and him crucified, whom God raised up and sent into the world to save it by his doctrine and life, and whom—being by the Jews hung upon a cross—God raised again from the dead. We preach him as the Son of God with power, by whom God has been revealed to mankind in his true nature and perfections, and through whom, he and he only is to be worshipped. In the place of Jupiter, we bring you a revelation of the God and Father of Christ Jesus our Lord—creator of the universe, who will call all men into judgment at last, rewarding or punishing according to what they have done. Through Jesus, we preach also a resurrection from the dead. We show, by arguments which cannot be refuted, that this Jesus, when he had been crucified and slain, and had lain three days in the tomb, was called again to life, and taken up to Heaven, as an example of what should afterwards happen to all his followers. Through him has immortality been plainly brought to light and proved, and this transporting truth we declare wherever we go. Through Jesus, we preach also repentance; we declare to men their wickedness; we show them what and how great it is; and exhort them to repentance, as what can alone save them from the wrath to come.

'This, O Emperor, is the great work which we, as apostles of Jesus, have to do, to convince the world how vile it is; how surely their wickedness, unrepented of, will work their misery and their ruin, and so lead them away from it, and up the safe and pleasant heights of Christian virtue. We find Rome sunk in sensuality and sin; nor only that, but ignorant of its own guilt, dead to the wickedness into which it has fallen, and denying any obligations to a different or better life. Such do we find, indeed, not Rome only, but the world itself, dead in trespasses and sin. We would rouse it from this sleep of death. We desire first of all, to waken in the souls of men a perception of the guilt of sin! a feeling of the wide departure of their lives from the just demands of the being who made them. The prospect of immortality were nothing without this. Longer life were but a greater evil were we not made alive to sin and righteousness. Life on earth, Aurelian, is not the best thing, but virtuous life: so life without end is not the best thing, but life without fault or sin. But to the necessity of such a life men are now insensible and dead. They love the prospect of an immortal existence, but not of that purity without which immortality were no blessing. But it is this moral regeneration—this waking up of men dead in sin, to the life of righteousness, which is the great aim of Christianity. Repentance! was the first word of its founder when he began preaching in Judea; it is the first word of his followers wherever they go, and should be the last. This, O Aurelian, in few words, is the gospel of Jesus—"Repent and live forever!"

'In the service of this gospel, and therefore of you and the world, we are content to labor while we live, to suffer injury and reproach, and if need be, and they to whom we go will not understand us, lay down our lives. Almost three hundred years has it appealed to mankind; and though not with the success that should have followed upon the labor of those who have toiled for the salvation of men, yet has it not been rejected everywhere, nor has the labor been in vain. The fruit that has come of the seed sown is great and abundant. In every corner of the earth are there now those who name the name of Christ. And in every place are there many more, than meet the eye, who read our gospels, believe in them, and rejoice in the virtue and the hope which have taken root in their souls. Here in Rome, O Aurelian, are there multitudes of believers, whom the ear hears not, nor the eye sees, hidden away in the security of this sea of roofs, whom the messengers of your power never could discover. Destroy us, you may; sweep from the face of Rome every individual whom the most diligent search can find, from the gray-haired man of fourscore to the infant that can just lisp the name of Jesus, and you have not destroyed the Christians; the Christian church still stands—not unharmed, but founded as before upon a rock, against which the powers of earth and hell can never prevail; and soon as this storm shall have overblown, those other, and now secret, multitudes, of whom I speak, will come forth, and the wilderness of the church shall blossom again as a garden in the time of spring. God is working with us, and who therefore can prevail against us!

'Bring not then, Aurelian, upon your own soul; bring not upon Rome, the guilt that would attend this unnecessary slaughter. It can but defer for an hour or a day the establishment of that kingdom of righteousness, which must be established, because it is God's, and he is laying its foundations and building its walls. Have pity too, great Emperor, upon this large multitude of those who embrace this faith, and who will not let it go for all the terrors of your courts and judges and engines; they will all suffer the death of Macer ere they will prove false to their Master. Let not the horrors of that scene be renewed, nor the greater ones of an indiscriminate massacre. I implore your compassions, not for myself, but for these many thousands, who, by my ministry, have been persuaded to receive this faith. For them my heart bleeds; them I would save from the death which impends. Yet it is a glorious and a happy death, to die for truth and Christ! It is better to die so, knowing that by such death the very church itself is profited, than to die in one's own bed, and only to one's self. So do these thousands think; and whatever compassion I may implore for them, they would each and all, were such their fate, go with cheerful step, as those who went to some marriage supper, to the axe, to the stake, or the cross. Christianity cannot die but with the race itself. Its life is bound up in the life of man, and man must be destroyed ere that can perish. Behold then, Aurelian, the labor that is thine!'

Soon as he had ceased, Porphyrius started from his seat and said,

'It is then, O Romans, just as it has ever been affirmed. The Galileans are atheists! They believe not in the gods of Rome, nor in any in whom mankind can ever have belief. I doubt not but they think themselves believers in a God. They think themselves to have found one better than others have; but upon any definition, that I or you could give or understand, of atheism, they are atheists! Their God is invisible; he is a universal spirit, like this circumambient air; of no form, dwelling in no place. But how can that without effrontery be called a being, which is without body and form; which is everywhere and yet nowhere; which, from the beginning of the world has never been heard of, till by these Nazarenes he is now first brought to light, or, if older, exists in the dreams of the dreaming Jews, whose religion, as they term it, is so stuffed with fable, that one might not expect, after the most exact and laborious search, to meet with so much as a grain of truth. Yet, whatever these Galileans may assert, their speech is hardly to be received as worthy of belief, when, in their very sacred records, such things are to be found as contradict themselves. For in one place—not to mention a thousand cases of the like kind—it is said that Jesus, the head of this religion, on a certain occasion walked upon the sea; when, upon sifting the narrative, it is found that it was but upon a paltry lake, the lake of Galilee, upon which he performed that great feat!—a thing to which the magic of which he is accused—and doubtless with justice—was plainly equal; while to walk upon the sea might well have been beyond that science. How much of what we have heard is to be distrusted also, concerning the love which these Nazarenes bear to Rome. We may well pray to be delivered from the affection of those, whose love manifests itself in the singular manner of seeking our destruction. He who loves me so well as to poison me that I may have the higher enjoyment of Elysium, I could hardly esteem as a well-wisher or friend. These Jewish fanatics love us after somewhat the same fashion. In the zeal of their affection they would make us heirs of what they call their heavenly kingdom, but in the meanwhile destroy our religion, deprive us of our ancient gods, and sap the foundations of the state.

'Romans, in spite of all you have heard of another sort, I hope you will still believe that experience is one of your most valuable teachers, and that therefore you will be slow to forsake opinions which have the sanction of venerable age, under which you have flourished so happily, and your country grown to so amazing a height of glory and renown. I think you would deserve the fate which this new-made religion would bring you to, if you abandoned the worship of a thousand years, for the presumptuous novelty of yesterday. Not a name of greatness or honor can be quoted of those who have adorned this foreign fiction; while all the great and good of Greece and Rome, philosophers, moralists, historians, and poets, are to be found on the side of Hellenism. If we cast from us that which we have experienced to be good, by what rule and on what principle can we afterward put our trust in anything else? And it is considerable, that which has ever been asserted of this people, and which I doubt not is true, that they have ever been prying about with their doctrines and their mysteries among the poor and humbler sort, among women, slaves, simple and unlearned folks, while they have never appealed to, nor made any converts of, the great and the learned, who alone are capable of judging of the truth of such things.

'Who are the believers here in Rome? Who knows them? Are the sacred Senate Christians? or any distinguished for their rank? No; with exceptions, too few to be noticed, those who embrace it are among the dregs of the people, men wholly incapable of separating true from false, and laying properly the safe foundations of a new religion—a work too great even for philosophers. And not only does this religion draw to itself the poor and humble and ignorant, but the base and wicked also; persons known, while of our way, to have been notorious for their vices, have all of a sudden joined themselves to the Christians; and whatever show of sanctity may then have been assumed, we may well suppose there has not been much of the reality. Long may it boast of such members, and while its brief life lasts make continually such converts from us. As to the amazing pretences they make of their benevolence in the care of the poor, and even of our poor, doing more offices of kindness toward them—so it is affirmed—than we ourselves—who does not see the motive that prompts so much charity, in the good opinion they build up for themselves in those whom they have so much obliged, and who cannot in decency do less afterward than oblige them in turn, by joining their superstitions—superstitions of which they know nothing before they adopt them, and as little afterward.

'But I will not, O Emperor, weary out your patience again—already so long tried—and will only say, that the fate which has all along and everywhere befallen these people, might well warn them that they are objects of the anger rather than the favor and love of the Lord of Heaven, of which they so confidently make their boast. For if he loved them would he leave them everywhere so to the rage and destruction of their enemies—to be reviled, trodden upon, and despised, all over the earth? If these be the signs of love, what are those of hate? And can it be that he, their Lord of Heaven, hath in store for them a world of bliss beyond this life, who gives them here on earth scarce the sordid shelter of a cabin? In truth, they seem to be a community living upon their imaginations. They fancy themselves favorites of Heaven—though all the world thinks otherwise. They fancy themselves the greatest benefactors the world has ever seen, while they are the only ones who think so. They have nothing here but persecution, contempt, and hatred, and yet are anticipating a more glorious Elysium than the greatest and best of earth have ever dared to hope for. We cannot but hope they may be at sometime the riddle to themselves which they are to us. This is a benevolent wish, for their entertainment would be great.'

When he had ended, and almost before, many voices were heard of those who wished to speak, and Probus rose in his place to reply to what had fallen from the philosopher, but all were alike silenced by the loud and stern command of Aurelian, who, evidently weary and impatient of further audience of what he was so little willing to hear at all, cried out, saying,

'The Christians, Romans, have now been heard, as they desired, by one whom they themselves appointed to set forth their doctrine. This is no school for the disputations of sophists or philosophers or fanatics. Let Romans and Christians alike withdraw.'

Whereupon, without further words or delay, the assembly broke up.

* * * * *

It was not difficult to see that the statements and reasonings of Probus had fallen upon many who heard them with equal surprise and delight. Every word that he uttered was heard with an eager attention I never before saw equaled. I have omitted the greater part of what he said, especially where he went with minuteness into an account of the history, doctrine, and precept of our faith, knowing it to be too familiar to you to make it desirable to have it repeated.

It was in part at least owing to an unwillingness to allow Probus again to address that audience, representing all the rank and learning of Rome, that the Emperor so hastily dissolved the assembly. Whatever effect the hearing of Probus may have upon him or upon us, there is reason to believe that its effects will be deep and abiding upon the higher classes of our inhabitants. They then heard what they never heard before—a full and an honest account of what Christianity is; and, from what I have already been informed, and gathered indeed from my own observation at the time, they now regard it with very different sentiments.

When, late in the evening of this day, we conversed of its events, Probus being seated with us, we indulged both in those cheering and desponding thoughts which seem to be strangely mingled together in our present calamities.

'No opinion,' said Julia, 'has been more strongly confirmed within me by this audience before Aurelian, than this, that it has been of most auspicious influence upon our faith. Not that some have not been filled with a bitterer spirit than before; but that more have been favorably inclined toward us by the disclosures, Probus, which you made; and whether they become Christians or not eventually, they will be far more ready to defend us in our claim for the common rights of citizens. Marcellinus, who sat near me, was of this number. He expressed frequently, in most emphatic terms, his surprise at what he heard, which, he said, he was constrained to admit as true and fair statements, seeing they were supported and corroborated by my and your presence and silence. At the close he declared his purpose to procure the gospels for his perusal.'

'And yet,' said I, 'the late consul Capitolinus, who was at my side, and whose clear and intelligent mind is hardly equaled here in Rome, was confirmed—even as Porphyrius was, or pretended to be—in all his previous unfavorable impressions. He did not disguise his opinion, but freely said, that in his judgment the religion ought to be suppressed, and that, though he should by no means defend any measures like those which he understood Aurelian had resolved to put in force, he should advocate such action in regard to it, as could not fail to expel it from the empire in no very great number of years.'

'I could observe,' added Probus, 'the same differences of feeling and judgment all over the surface of that sea of faces. But if I should express my belief as to the proportion of friends and enemies there present, I should not hesitate to say—and that I am sure without any imposition upon my own credulity—that the greater part by far were upon our side—not in faith as you may suppose—but in that good opinion of us, and of the tendencies of our doctrine and the value of our services, that is very near it, and is better than the public profession of Christ of many others.'

'It will be a long time, I am persuaded,' said Julia, 'before the truths received then into many minds will cease to operate in our behalf. But what think you was the feeling of Aurelian? His countenance was hidden from me—yet that would reveal not much. It is immovable at those times, when he is deeply stirred, or has any motive to conceal his sentiments.'

'I cannot believe,' replied Probus, 'that any impression, such as we could wish, was made upon that hard and cruel heart. Not the brazen statue, against the base of which he leaned, stood in its place more dead to whatever it was that came from my lips than he. He has not been moved, we may well believe, to change any of his designs. Whatever yesterday it was in his intent to do, he will accomplish tomorrow. I do not believe we have anything to hope at his hands.'

'Alas, Lucius!' said Julia, 'that our faith in Christ, and our interest and concern for its progress in Rome, should after all come to this. How happy was I in Syria, with this belief as my bosom companion and friend; and free, too, to speak of it, to any and to all. How needless is all the misery which this rude, unlettered tyrant is about to inflict! How happily for all, would things take their course even here, might they but be left to run in those natural channels which would reveal themselves, and which would then conduct to those ends which the Divine Providence has proposed. But man wickedly interposes; and a misery is inflicted, which otherwise would have never fallen upon us, and which in the counsels of God was never designed. What now think you, Probus, will be the event?'

'I cannot doubt,' he replied, 'that tomorrow will witness all that report has already spread abroad as the purpose of Aurelian. Urged on by both Fronto and Varus, he will not pause in his course. Rome, ere the Ides, will swim in Christian blood. I see not whence deliverance is to come. Miracle alone could save us; and miracle has long since ceased to be the order of Providence. Having provided for us this immense instrument of moral reform in the authority and doctrine of Christ, we are now left, as doubtless it is on the whole best for our character and our virtues we should be, to our own unassisted strength, to combat with all the evils that may assail us, both from without and within. For myself, I can meet this tempest without a thought of reluctance or dread. I am a solitary man; having neither child nor relative to mourn my loss; I have friends indeed, whom I love, and from whom I would not willingly part; but, if any considerable purpose is to be gained by my death to that cause for which I have lived, neither I nor they can lament that it should occur. Under these convictions as to my own fate—and that of all, must I say and believe? no; I cannot, will not, believe that humanity has taken its final departure from the bosom of Aurelian—I turn to one bright spot, and there my thoughts dwell, and there my hopes gather strength, and that is here where you, Piso, and you, lady, will still dwell, too high for the aim of the imperial murderer to reach. Here I shall believe will there he an asylum for many a wearied spirit, a safe refuge from the sharp pelting of the storm without. And when a calm shall come again, from beneath this roof, as once from the ark of God, shall there go forth those who shall again people the waste-places of the church, and change the wilderness of death into a fruitful garden full of the plants of Heaven.'

'That it is the present purpose of Aurelian to spare me,' I answered, 'whatever provocation I may give him, I fully believe. He is true; and his word to that end, with no wish expressed on my part, has been given. But do not suppose that in that direction at least he may not change his purpose. Superstitiously mad as he now is, a mere plaything too in the bloody hands of Fronto—and nothing can well be esteemed as more insecure than even my life, privileged and secure as it may seem. If it should occur to him, in his day or his night visions and dreams, that I, more than others, should be an acceptable offering to his god, my life would be to him but that of an insect buzzing around his ear; and being dead by a blow, he would miss me no more. Still, let the mercy that is vouchsafed, whether great or little, be gratefully confessed.'

You then see, Fausta, the position in which your old friends now stand here in Rome. Who could have believed, when we talked over our dangers in Palmyra, that greater and more dreadful still awaited us in our own home. It has come upon us with such suddenness that we can scarce believe it ourselves. Yet are we prepared, with an even mind and a trusting faith, for whatever may betide.

It is happy for me, and for Julia, that our religion has fixed within us so firm a belief in a superintending Providence—who orders not only the greatest but the least events of life, who is as much concerned for the happiness and the moral welfare of the humblest individual, as he is for the orderly movement of a world—that we sit down under the shadows that overhang us, perfectly convinced that some end of good to the church or the world is to be achieved through these convulsions, greater than could have been achieved in any other way. The Supreme Ruler, we believe, is infinitely wise and infinitely good. But he would be neither, if unnecessary suffering were meted out to his creatures. This suffering then is not unnecessary. But through it, in ways which our sight now is not piercing enough to discern—but may hereafter be—shall a blessing redound both to the individuals concerned, to the present generation, and a remote posterity, which could not otherwise have been secured. This we must believe; or we must renounce all belief.

Forget not to remember us with affection to Gracchus and Calpurnius.

* * * * *

I also was present at the hearing of Probus. But of that I need say nothing; Piso having so fully written concerning it to the daughter of Gracchus.

Early on the following day I was at the Gardens of Sallust, where I was present both with the Emperor and Livia, and with the Emperor and Fronto, and heard conversations which I here record.

When I entered the apartment, in which it was customary for the Empress to sit at this time of the day, I found her there engaged upon her embroidery, while the Emperor paced back and forth, his arms crossed behind him, and care and anxiety marked upon his countenance. Livia, though she sat quietly at her work, seemed ill at ease, and as if some thought were busy within, to which she would gladly give utterance. She was evidently relieved by my entrance, and immediately made her usual inquiries after the health of the Queen, in which Aurelian joined her.

Aurelian then turned to me and said,

'I saw you yesterday at the Palatine, Nicomachus; what thought you of the Christian's defence?'

'It did not convert me to his faith—'

'Neither, by the gods! did it me,' quickly interrupted Aurelian.

'But,' I went on, 'it seemed to show good cause why they should not be harshly or cruelly dealt with. He proved them to be a harmless people, if not positively profitable to the state.'

'I do not see that,' replied the Emperor. 'It is impossible they should be harmless who sap the foundations of religion; it is impossible they should be profitable who seduce from their allegiance the good subjects of the empire; and this religion of the Christians does both.'

'I agree that it is so,' I rejoined, 'if it is to be assumed in the controversy that the prevailing religion of the Romans is a perfect one, and that any addition or alteration is necessarily an evil. That seems to be the position of Porphyrius and others. But to that I can by no means assent. It seems to me that the religions of mankind are susceptible of improvement as governments are, and other like institutions; that what may be perfectly well suited to a nation in one stage of its growth, may be very ill adapted to another; that the gods in their providence accordingly design that one form of religious worship and belief should in successive ages be superseded by others, which shall be more exactly suited to their larger growth, and more urgent and very different necessities. The religion of the early days of Rome was perhaps all that so rude a people were capable of comprehending—all that they wanted. It worked well for them, and you have reason for gratitude that it was bestowed upon them, and has conferred so great benefits upon the preceding centuries. But the light of the sun is not clearer than it is that, for this present passing age, that religion is stark naught.'

The Emperor frowned, and stood still in his walk, looking sternly upon me; but I heeded him not.

'Most, of any intelligence and reflection,' I continued, 'spurn it away from them as fit but for children and slaves. Must they then be without any principle of this kind? Is it safe for a community to grow up without faith in a superintending power, from whom they come, to whom they are responsible? I think not. In any such community—and Rome is becoming such a one—the elements of disruption, anarchy, and ruin, are there at work, and will overthrow it. A society of atheists is a contradiction in terms. Atheists may live alone, but not together. Will you compel your subjects to become such? If a part remain true to the ancient faith, and find it to be sufficient, will you deny to the other part the faith which they crave, and which would be sufficient for them? I doubt if that were according to the dictates of wisdom and philosophy. And how know you, Aurelian, that this religion of Christ may not be the very principle which, and which alone, may save your people from atheism, and your empire from the ruin that would bring along in its train?'

'I cannot deny,' said the Emperor in reply, 'that there is some sense and apparent truth in what you have said. But to me it is shadowy and intangible. It is the speculation of that curious class among men, who, never satisfied with what exists, are always desiring some new forms of truth, in religion, in government, and all subjects of that nature. I could feel no more certain of going or doing right by conforming to their theories, than I feel now in adhering to what is already established. Nay, I can see safety nowhere but in what already is. There is the only certainty. Suppose some enthusiast in matters of government were to propose his system, by which the present established institutions were all to be abandoned and new ones set up, should I permit him to go freely among the people, puzzling their heads with what it is impossible they should understand, and by his sophistries alienating them from their venerable parent? Not so, by Hercules! I should ill deserve my office of supreme guardian of the honor and liberties of Rome, did I not mew him up in the Fabrician dungeons, or send him lower still to the Stygian shades.'

'But,' said Livia, who had seemed anxious to speak, 'though it may be right, and best for the interests of Rome, to suppress this new worship, yet why, Aurelian, need it be done at such expense of life? Can no way be devised by which the professors of this faith shall be banished, for instance, the realm, and no new teachers of it permitted to enter it afterward but at the risk of life, or some other appointed penalty? Sure I am, from what I heard from the Christian Probus, and what I have heard so often from the lips of Julia, this people cannot be the sore in the body of the state which Fronto represents them.'

'I cannot, Livia,' replied the Emperor, 'refuse to obey what to me have been warnings from the gods.'

'But may not the heavenly signs have been read amiss?' rejoined Livia.

'There is no truth in augury, if my duty be not where I have placed it,' answered Aurelian.

'And perhaps, Aurelian,' said the Empress, 'there is none. I have heard that the priests of the temples play many a trick upon their devout worshippers.'

'Livia, it has doubtless been so; but you would not believe that Fronto has trifled with Aurelian?'

'I believe Fronto capable of any crime by which the gods may be served. Have you not heard, Aurelian what fell from the dying Christian's lips?'

'I have, Livia; and have cast it from me as at best the coinage of a moonstruck mountebank. Shall the word of such a one as Macer the Christian, unseat my trust in such a one as Fronto? That were not reasonable, Livia.'

'Then, Aurelian, if not for any reason that I can give, for the love you bear me, withhold your hand from this innocent people. You have often asked me to crave somewhat which it would be hard for you to grant, that you might show how near you hold me. Grant me this favor, and it shall be more to me than if you gave me the one half the empire.'

The Emperor's stern countenance relaxed, and wore for a moment that softened expression, accompanied by a smile, that on his face might be termed beautiful. He was moved by the unaffected warmth and winning grace with which those words were spoken by Livia. But he only said,

'I love thee, Livia, as thou knowest,—but not so well as Rome or the gods.'

'I would not, Aurelian,' replied the Empress, 'that love of me should draw you away from what you owe to Rome—from what is the clear path of a monarch's duty; but this seems at best a doubtful case. They who are equally Roman in their blood differ here. It is not wrong to ask you, for my sake, to lean to the side of mercy.'

'You are never wrong, Livia. And were it only right to—'

'But are you not, Aurelian, always sure of being right in being merciful? Can it ever afterward repent you that you drew back from the shedding of blood?'

'It is called mercy, Livia, when he who has the power spares the culprit, forgives the offence, and sends him from the gibbet or the cross back to his weeping friends. The crowds throw up their caps and shout as for some great and good deliverance. But the mercy that returns upon the world a villain, whose crimes had richly earned for him his death, is hardly a doubtful virtue. Though, as is well known, I am not famed for mercy, yet were it clear to me what in this case were the truest mercy—for the pleasure, Livia, of pleasuring thee, I would be merciful. But I should not agree with thee in what is mercy. It were no mercy to Rome, as I judge, to spare these Christians, whatever the grace might be to them. Punishment is often mercy. In destroying these wretches I am merciful both to Rome and to the world, and shall look to have their thanks.'

'There comes, Aurelian.' said Livia, rising, 'thy evil genius—thy ill-possessing demon—who has so changed the kindly current of thy blood. I would that he, who so loves the gods, were with them. I cannot wait him.'

With these words Livia rose and left the apartment, just as Fronto entered in another direction.

'Welcome, Fronto!' said Aurelian. 'How thrive our affairs?'

'As we could wish, great Emperor. The city with us, and the gods with us,—we cannot but prosper. A few days will see great changes.'

'How turns out the tale of Curio? What find you to be the truth? Are the Christians here, or are they fled?'

'His tale was partly false and partly true. More are fled than Piso or the Christians will allow; but doubtless the greater part, by large odds, remain.'

'That is well. Then for the other side of this great duty. Is thine own house purged? Is the temple, new and of milk-white marble, now as clean and white in its priesthood? Have those young sots and pimps yet atoned for their foul impieties?'

'They have,' replied Fronto. 'They have been dealt with; and their carcases swinging and bleaching in the wind will long serve I trust to keep us sweet. The temple, I now may believe, is thoroughly swept.'

'And how is it, Fronto, with the rest?'

'The work goes on. Your messengers are abroad; and it will be neither for want of power, will, nor zeal, if from this time Hellenism stands not before the world as beautiful in her purity as she is venerable in years and truth.'

'The gods be praised that I have been stirred up to this! When this double duty shall be done, Hellenism reformed, and her enemy extinct, then may I say that life has not been spent for naught. But meanwhile, Fronto, the army needs me. All is prepared, and letters urge me on. To-morrow I would start for Thrace. Yet it cannot be so soon.'

'No,' said the priest. 'Rome will need you more than Thrace, till the edicts have been published, and the work well begun. Then, Aurelian, may it be safely entrusted, so far as zeal and industry shall serve, to those behind.'

'I believe it, Fronto. I see myself doubly reflected in thee: and almost so in Varus. The Christians, were I gone, would have four Aurelians for one. Well, let us rejoice that piety is not dead. The sacrifice this morning was propitious. I feel its power in every thought and movement.'

'But while all things else seem propitious, Aurelian, one keeps yet a dark and threatening aspect.'

'What mean you?'

'Piso!—'

'Fronto, I have in that made known my will, and more than once. Why again dispute it?'

'I know no will, great Caesar, that may rightly cross or surmount that of the gods. They, to me, are supreme, not Aurelian.'

Aurelian moved from the priest, and paced the room.

'I see not, Fronto, with such plainness the will of Heaven in this.'

''Tis hard to see the divine will, when the human will and human affections are so strong.'

'My aim is to please the gods in all things,' replied the Emperor.

'Love too, Aurelian, blinds the eye, and softening the heart toward our fellow, hardens it toward the gods.' This he uttered with a strange significancy.

'I think, Fronto, mine has been all too hard toward man, if it were truly charged. At least, of late, the gods can have no ground of blame.'

'Rome,' replied the priest, 'is not slow to see and praise the zeal that is now crowning her seven hills with a greater glory than ever yet has rested on them. Let her see that her great son can finish what has been so well begun.'

'Fronto, I say it, but I say it with some inward pain, that were it plain the will of the gods were so—'

'Piso should die!' eagerly interrupted the priest.

'I will not say it yet, Fronto.'

'I see not why Aurelian should stagger at it. If the will of the gods is in this whole enterprise; if they will that these hundreds and thousands, these crowds of young and old, little children and tender youth, should all perish, that posterity by such sacrifice now in the beginning may be delivered from the curse that were else entailed upon them, then who can doubt, to whom truth is the chief thing, that they will, nay, and ordain in their sacred breasts, that he who is their chief and head, about whom others cluster, from whose station and power they daily draw fresh supplies of courage, should perish too; nay, that he should be the first great offering, that so, the multitudes who stay their weak faith on him, may, on his loss, turn again unharmed to their ancient faith. That too, were the truest mercy.'

'There may be something in that, Fronto. Nevertheless, I do not yet see so much to rest upon one life. If all the rest were dead, and but one alive, and he Piso, I see not but the work were done.'

'A thousand were better left, Aurelian, than Piso and the lady Julia! They are more in the ears and eyes of Rome than all the preachers of this accursed tribe. They are preaching, not on their holydays to a mob of beggarly knaves, men and women dragged up by their hot and zealous caterers from the lanes and kennels of the city, within the walls of their filthy synagogues, but they preach every day, to the very princes and nobles of the state—at the capitol to the Senate—here in thy palaces to all the greatest and best of Rome and, by the gods! as I believe, make more converts to their impieties than all the army of their atheistical priesthood. Upon Probus, Piso, and Julia, hang the Christians of Rome. Hew them away, end the branches die. Probus, ere tomorrow's sun is set, feeds the beasts of the Flavian—then—'

'Hold, Fronto! I will no more of it now. I have, besides, assured Piso of his safety.'

'There is no virtue like that of those, who, having erred, repent.'

Aurelian looked for the moment as if he would willingly have hurled Fronto, and his temple after him, to Tartarus. But the bold man heeded him not.

'Shall I,' he continued, 'say what it is that thus ties the hands of the conqueror of the world?'

'Say what thou wilt.'

'Rome says, I say it not—but Rome says, 'tis love.'

'What mean they? I take you not. Love?'

'Of the princess Julia, still so called.'

A deep blush burned upon the cheek of Aurelian. He paused a moment, as if for some storm within to subside. He then said, in his deep tone, that indicates the presence of the whole soul—but without passion—

'Fronto, 'tis partly true—truer than I wish it were. When in Syria my eye first beheld her, I loved her—as I never loved before, and never shall again. But not for the Emperor of the world would she part from young Piso. I sued, as man never sued before, but all in vain. Her image still haunts the chambers of my brain; yet, with truth do I say it, but as some pure vision sent from the gods. I confess, Fronto, it is she who stands between me and the will of Heaven. I know not what force, but that of all the gods, could make me harm her. To no other ear has this ever been revealed. She is to me god and goddess.'

'Now, Aurelian, that thou has spoken in the fullness of thy heart, do I hold thee redeemed from the invisible tyrant. In our own hearts we sin and err, as we dare not when the covering is off, and others can look in and see how weak we are. Thou canst not, great Caesar, for this fondness forget and put far from thee the vision of thy mother, whom, in dreams or in substantial shape, the gods sent down to revive thy fainting zeal! Let it not be that that call shall have been in vain.'

'Fronto, urge now no more. Hast thou seen Varus?'

'I have.'

'Are the edicts ready?'

'They are.'

'Again then at the hour of noon let them glare forth upon the enemies of Rome from the columns of the capitol. Let Varus be so instructed. Now I would be alone.'

Whereupon the priest withdrew, and I also rose from where I had sat, to take my leave, when the Emperor said,

'This seems harsh to thee, Nicomachus?'

'I cannot but pray the gods,' I said, 'to change the mind of Aurelian!'

'They have made his mind what it is, Nicomachus.'

'Not they,' I said, 'but Fronto.'

'But,' he quickly added, 'the gods made Fronto, and have put their mind in him, or it has never been known on earth. You know not the worth, Greek, of this man. Had Rome possessed such a one two hundred years ago, this work had not now to be done.'

Saying which, he withdrew into his inner apartment, and I sought again the presence of Livia.



LETTER XI.

FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.

A day has passed, Fausta, since the hearing of Probus, and I hasten to inform you of its events.

But, first of all, before I enter upon the dark chapter of our calamities, let me cheer you and myself by dwelling a moment upon one bright and sunny spot. Early in the day we were informed that Isaac was desirous to see us. He was at once admitted. As he entered, it was easy to see that some great good fortune had befallen him. His face shone through the effect of some inward joy, and his eyes sparkled in their deep sockets like burning tapers. When our customary salutations and inquiries were over, Julia said to him,

'I think, Isaac, you must have sold a jewel this morning to no less a person than Aurelian, if the face may be held as an index of good or evil fortune.'

'I have parted with no jewel, lady,' he replied, 'but there has fallen into my hands a diamond of inestimable value, drawn from those mines of the Orient, which I may say, not all the wealth of Aurelian could purchase of me. Whenever I shall receive such permission, it will give me highest delight to show it to thee.'

'Only a single jewel, Isaac?' said Julia. 'Is it but one stone that so transports thee, and makes thy face that of a young man?'

'Lady, to confess the truth, there are four—four living stories and precious—more precious than any that of old blazed upon the breastplate of our high-priest Princess, I have come to tell thee and Piso what none in Rome besides, as I think, would care to know—and strange it is that you Christians should be those whom I, a Jew, most love, and that I, an old and worn-out man, should fill any space, were it no bigger than a grain of wheat, in your regards—I have come to tell you what you have already discovered, that Hagar is arrived with the young Ishmael, and with them two dark-eyed daughters of Israel, who are as welcome as the others. There is not now, Piso, within the walls of Rome a dwelling happier than mine. Soon as leisure and inclination shall serve, come, if you will do us such grace, to the street Janus, and behold our contentment. Sorry am I that the times come laden to you with so many terrors. Piso,' continued he, in a more earnest tone, and bending toward me, 'rely upon the word of one who is rarely deceived, and who now tells thee, there is a sword hanging over thy head! Fronto thirsts for thy life, and thine, lady! and Aurelian, much as he may love you, is, as we have already seen, not proof against the violent zeal of the priest. Come to the street Janus, and I will warrant you safety and life. There is none for you here—nor in Rome—if Aurelian's hounds can scent you.'

We were again obliged to state, with all the force we could give to them, the reasons which bound us to remain, not only in Rome, but in our own dwelling, and await whatever the times might bring forth. He was again slow to be convinced, so earnestly does he desire our safety. But at length he was persuaded that he himself would take the same course were he called upon to defend the religion of his fathers. He then departed, having first exacted a promise that we would soon see his new family.

Soon as Isaac was gone I sought the streets.

Rome, Fausta, has put on the appearance of the Saturnalia. Although no license of destruction has yet been publicly given, the whole city is in commotion—the lower orders noisy and turbulent, as if they had already received their commission of death. Efforts have been made, both on the part of the senate and that of the nobles who are not of that body, joined by many of all classes, to arrest the Emperor in his murderous career, but in vain. Not the Seven Hills are more firmly rooted in the earth, than he in his purposes of blood. This is well known abroad; and the people are the more emboldened in the course they take. They know well that Aurelian is supreme and omnipotent; that no power in Rome can come in between him and his object, whatever it may be; and that they, therefore, though they should err through their haste, and in their zeal even go before the edicts, would find in him a lenient judge. No Christian was accordingly to be now seen in the streets—for nowhere were they safe from the ferocious language, or even the violent assaults, of the mob. These cruel executioners I found all along, wherever I moved, standing about in groups as if impatiently awaiting the hour of noon, or else gathered about the dwellings of well-known Christians, assailing the buildings with stones, and the ears of their pent-up inhabitants with all that variety of imprecation they so well know how to use. It was almost with sensations of guilt that I walked the streets of Rome in safety, bearing a sort of charmed life, while these thousands of my friends were already suffering more through their horrible anticipation, than they would when they should come to endure the reality. But, although I passed along uninjured by actual assault, the tongue was freely let loose upon me, and promises were abundantly lavished that, before many days were gone, not even the name of Piso, nor the favor of Aurelian, should save me from the common doom.

As the hour of noon drew nigh, it seemed as if the entire population of Rome was pouring itself into the streets and avenues leading to the capitol. Not the triumph of Aurelian itself filled this people with a more absorbing, and, as it appeared, a more pleasing interest, than did the approaching calamities of the Christians. Expectation was written on every face. Even the boys threw up their caps as in anticipation of somewhat that was to add greatly to their happiness.

* * * * *

The sixth hour has come and is gone. The edicts are published, and the Christians are now declared enemies of the state and of the gods, and are required to be informed against by all good citizens, and arraigned before the Prefect and the other magistrates especially appointed for the purpose.

* * * * *

All is now confusion, uproar, and cruel violence.

* * * * *

No sooner was the purport of the edicts ascertained by the multitudes who on this occasion, as before, thronged the capitol, than they scattered in pursuit of their victims. The priests of the temples heading the furious crowds, they hastened from the hill in every direction, assailing, as they reached them, the houses of the Christians, and dragging the wretched inhabitants to the presence of their barbarous judges. Although in the present edicts the people are not let loose as authorized murderers upon the Christians, they are nevertheless exhorted and required to inform against them and bring them before the proper tribunals on the charge of Christianity, so that there is lodged in their hands a fearful power to harrass and injure—a power which is used as you may suppose Romans would use it. Every species of violence has this day been put in practice upon this innocent people; their perpetrators feeling sure that, in the confusion, deeds at which even Varus or Aurelian might take offence will be overlooked. The tribunals have been thronged from noon till night with Christians and their accusers. As the examination of those who have been brought up has rarely occupied but a few moments, the evidence always being sufficiently full to prove them Christians, and, when that has been wanting, their own ready confession supplying the defect—the prisons are already filling with their unhappy tenants, and extensive provisions are making to receive them in other buildings set apart for the time to this office. A needless provision. For it requires but little knowledge of Aurelian to know that his impatient temper will not long endure the tedious process of a regular accusation, trial, condemnation, and punishment. A year, in that case, would scarce suffice to make way with the Christians of Rome. Long before the prisons can be emptied in a legal way of the tenants already crowding them, will the Emperor resort to the speedier method of a general and indiscriminate massacre. No one can doubt this, who is familiar as I am with Aurelian, and the spirits who now rule him.

* * * * *

Let me tell you now of the fate of Probus.

He was seated within his own quiet home at the time the edicts were proclaimed from the steps of the capitol. The moment the herald who proclaimed them had pronounced the last word, and was affixing them to the column, the name of Probus was heard shouted from one side of the hill to the other, and, while the multitude scattered in every direction in pursuit of those who were known to them severally as Christians, a large division of it made on the instant for his dwelling. On arriving there, roused by the noise of the approaching throng, Probus came forth. He was saluted by cries and yells, that seemed rather to proceed from troops of wild beasts than men. He would fain have spoken to them, but no word would they hear. 'Away with the Christian dog to the Prefect!' arose in one deafening shout from the people; and on the instant he was seized and bound, and led unresisting away to the tribunal of Varus.

As he was dragged violently along, and was now passing the door which leads to the room where Varus sits, Felix, the bishop, having already stood before the Prefect, was leaving the hall, urged along by soldiers who were bearing him to prison.

'Be of good cheer, Probus!' exclaimed he; 'a crown awaits thee within. Rome needs thy life, and Christ thy soul.'

'Peace, dotard!' cried one of those who guarded and led him; and at the same moment brought his spear with such force upon his head that he felled him to the pavement.

'Thou hast slain thyself, soldier, by that blow rather than him,' said Probus. 'Thine own faith has torments in reserve for such as thee.'

'Thou too!' cried the enraged soldier; and he would have repeated the blow upon the head of the offender, but that the descending weapon was suddenly struck upwards, and out of the hand of him who wielded it, by another belonging to the same legion, who guarded Probus, saying as he did so,

'Hold, Mutius! it is not Roman to strike the bound and defenceless, Christians though they be. Raise that fallen old man, and apply such restoratives as the place affords.' And then, with other directions to those who were subordinate to him, he moved on, bearing Probus with him.

Others who had arrived before him, were standing in the presence of Varus, who was questioning them as to their faith in Christ. On the left hand of the Prefect, and on the right of those who were examined, stood a small altar surmounted by a statue of Jupiter, to which the Christians were required to sacrifice. But few words sufficed for the examination of such as were brought up. Upon being inquired of touching their faith, there was no waiting for witnesses, but as soon as the question was put, the arraigned person acknowledged at once his name and religion. He was then required to sacrifice and renounce his faith, and forthwith he should be dismissed in safety, and with honor. This the Christian refusing steadfastly to do, sentence of death was instantly pronounced against him, and he was remanded to the prisons to await the time of punishment.

Probus was now placed before the Prefect. When it was seen throughout the crowd which again filled the house, who it was that was arraigned for examination, there were visible signs of satisfaction all around, that he, who was in a manner the ringleader of the sect, was about to meet with his deserts. As the eye of Varus fell upon Probus, and he too became aware who it was that stood at his tribunal, he bent courteously towards him, and saluted him with respect.

'Christian,' said he, 'I sincerely grieve to see thee in such a pass. Ever since I met thee in the shop of the learned Publius have I conceived an esteem for thee, and would now gladly rescue thee from the danger that overhangs. Bethink thee now—thou art of too much account to die as these others. A better fate should be thine; and I will stand thy friend.'

'Were what thou sayest true,' replied Probus, 'which I am slow to admit—for nobler, purer souls never lived on earth than have but now left this spot where I stand—it would but be a reason of greater force to me, why I should lose my life sooner than renounce my faith. What sacrifice can be too holy for the altar of the God whom I serve? Would to God I were more worthy than I am to be offered up.'

'Verily,' said Varus, 'you are a wonderful people. The more fitted you are to live happily to yourselves, and honorably to others, the readier you are to die. I behold in you, Probus, qualities that must make you useful here in Rome. Rome needs such as thyself. Say but the word, and thou art safe.'

'Could I in truth, Varus, possess the qualities thou imputest to me, were I ready on the moment to abandon what I have so long professed to honor and believe—abjuring, for the sake of a few years more of life, a faith which I have planted in so many other hearts, and which has already brought them into near neighborhood of a cruel death? Couldst thou thyself afterward think of me but as of a traitor and a coward?'

'I never,' said Varus, 'could do otherwise than esteem one, who, however late, at length declared himself the friend of Rome; and, more than others should I esteem him, who, from being an enemy, became a friend. Even the Emperor, Probus, desires thy safety. It is at his instance that I press thee.'

Probus bent his head and remained silent. The people, taking it as a sign of acquiescence, cried out, many of them, 'See, he will sacrifice!'

Varus too said, 'It needs not that the outward sign be made. We will dispense with it. The inward consent, Probus, shall suffice. Soldiers!—'

'Hold, hold, Varus!' cried Probus, rousing himself from a momentary forgetfulness. 'Think not, O Prefect, so meanly of me! What have I said or done to induce such belief? I was but oppressed for a moment with grief and shame that I should be chosen out from among all the Christians in Rome as one whom soft words and bribes and the hope of life could seduce from Christ. Cease, Varus, then; these words are vain. Such as I have been, I am, and shall be to the end—a Christian!'

'To the rack with the Christian then!' shouted many voices from the crowd.

Varus enforced silence.

'Probus,' said he, as order was restored, 'I shall still hope the best for thee. Thou art of different stuff from him whom we first had before us, and leisure for reflection may bring thee to another mind. I shall not therefore condemn thee either to the rack or to death. Soldiers, bear him to the prisons at the Fabrician bridge.'

Whereupon he was led from the tribunal, and conducted by a guard to the place of his confinement.

* * * * *

The fate of Probus we now regard as sealed. In what manner he will finally be disposed of it is vain to conjecture, so various are the ways, each one more ingenious in cruelty than another, in which Christians are made to suffer and die. Standing as he does, as virtually the head of the Christian community, we can anticipate for him a death only of more refined barbarity.

Felix too, we learn, is confined in the same prison: and with him all the other principal Christians of Rome.

* * * * *

We have visited Probus in his confinement. You do not remember, Fausta, probably you never saw, the prison at the Fabrician bridge. It seems a city itself, so vast is it, and of so many parts, running upwards in walls and towers to a dizzy height, and downwards to unknown depths, where it spreads out in dungeons never visited by the light of day. In this prison, now crowded with the Christians, did we seek our friend. We were at once, upon making known our want, shown to the cell in which he was confined.

We found him, as we entered, seated and bending over a volume which he was reading, aided by the faint light afforded by a lamp which his jailer had furnished him. He received us with cheerfulness, and at his side on the single block of stone which the cell provided for its inmates, we sat and long conversed. I expressed my astonishment that the favor of a lamp had been allowed him. 'It is not in accordance,' I said, 'with the usages of this place.'

'You will be still more amazed,' he replied, 'when I tell you through whose agency I enjoy it.'

'You must inform us,' we said, 'for we cannot guess.'

'Isaac's;' he replied. 'At least I can think of no other to whom the description given me by the jailer corresponds. He told me upon bringing it to me, that a kind-hearted old man, a Jew, as he believed him, had made inquiry about me, and had entreated earnestly for all such privileges and favors, as the customs of the place would allow. He has even procured me the blessing of this friendly light—and what is more yet and which fills me with astonishment—has sent me this volume, which is the true light. Can it be that Isaac has done all this, who surely never has seemed to regard me with much favor.'

'Never doubt that it is he,' said Julia; 'he has two natures, sometimes one is seen, sometimes the other—his Jew nature, and his human nature. His human heart is soft as a woman's or a child's. One so full of the spirit of love I have never known. At times in his speech, you would think him a man bloody and severe as Aurelian himself; but in his deeds he is almost more than a Christian.'

'As the true circumcision,' said Probus, 'is that of the heart, and as he is a Jew who is one inwardly, so is he only a Christian who does the deeds of one and has the heart of one. And he who does those deeds, and has that heart—what matters it by what name he is called? Isaac is a Christian, in the only important sense of the word—and, alas! that it should be so, more than many a one who bears the name. But does this make Christ to be of none effect? Not so. The natural light, which lightens every man who cometh into the world will, here and there, in every place, and in every age, bring forth those who shall show themselves in the perfection of their virtues to be of the very lineage of Heaven—true heirs of its glory. Isaac is such a one. But what then? For one such, made by the light of nature, the gospel gives us thousands. But how is it, Piso, in the city? Are the wolves still abroad?'

'They are. The people have themselves turned informers, soldiers, and almost executioners. However large may be the proportion of the friendly or the neutral in the city, they dare not show themselves. The mob of those devoted to Aurelian constitutes now the true sovereignty of Rome—the streets are theirs—the courts are theirs—and anon the games will be theirs.'

'I am given to understand,' said Probus, 'that to-morrow I suffer; yet have I received from the Prefect no warning to that effect. It is the judgment of my keeper.'

'I have heard the same,' I answered, 'but I know not with what truth.'

'It can matter little to me,' he replied, 'when the hour shall come, whether to-morrow or to-night.'

'It cannot,' said Julia. 'Furnished with the whole armor of the gospel, it will be an easy thing for you to encounter death.'

'It will, lady, believe me. I have many times fought with enemies of a more fearful front. The enemies of the soul are those whom the Christian most dreads. Death is but the foe of life. So the Christian may but live to virtue and God, he can easily make his account with death. It is not the pain of dying, nor the manner of it, nor any doubts or speculations about the life to come, which, at an hour like this, intrude upon the Christian's thoughts.'

'And what then,' asked Julia, as Probus paused and fell back into himself, 'is it that fills and agitates the mind? for at such a moment it can scarcely possess itself in perfect peace.'

'It is this,' replied Probus. 'Am I worthy? Have I wrought well my appointed task? Have I kept the faith? And is God my friend and Jesus my Saviour? These are the thoughts that engross and fill the mind. It is busy with the past—and with itself. It has no thoughts to spare upon suffering and death—it has no doubts or fears to remove concerning immortality. The future life, to me, stands out in the same certainty as the present. Death is but the moment which connects the two. You say well, that at such an hour as this the mind can scarce possess itself in perfect peace. Yet is it agitated by nothing that resembles fear. It is the agitation that must necessarily have place in the mind of one to whom a great trust has been committed for a long series of years, at that moment when he comes to surrender it up to him from whom it was received. I have lived many years. Ten thousand opportunities of doing good to myself and others have been set before me. The world has been a wide field of action and labor, where I have been required to sow and till against the future harvest. Must I not experience solicitude about the acts and the thoughts of so long a career? I may often have erred; I must often have stood idly by the wayside; I must many times have been neglectful, and forgetful, and wilful; I must often have sinned; and it is not all the expected glory of another life, nor all the honor of dying in the cause of Christ, nor all the triumph of a martyr's fate, that can or ought to stifle and overlay such thoughts. Still I am happy. Happy, not because I am in my own view worthy or complete, but because through Jesus Christ I am taught, in God, to see a Father. I know that in him I shall find both a just and a merciful judge; and in him who was tempted even as we are, who was of our nature and exposed to our trials, shall I find an advocate and intercessor such as the soul needs. So that, if anxious as he who is human and fallible must ever be, I am nevertheless happy and contented. My voyage is ended; the ocean of life is crossed, and I stand by the shore with joyful expectations of the word that shall bid me land and enter into the haven of my rest.'

As Probus ended these words, a low and deep murmur or distant rumbling as of thunder caught our ears, which, as we listened, suddenly increased to a terrific roar of lions, as it were directly under our feet. We instinctively sprang from where we sat, but were quieted at once by Probus:

'There is no danger,' said he; 'they are not within our apartment, nor very near us. They are a company of Rome's executioners, kept in subterranean dungeons, and fed with prisoners whom her mercy consigns to them. Sounds more horrid yet have met my ears, and may yours. Yet I hope not.'

But while he yet spoke, the distant shrieks of those who were thrust toward the den, into which from a high ledge they were to be plunged headlong, were borne to us, accompanied by the oaths and lashes of such as drove them, but which were immediately drowned by the louder roaring of the imprisoned beasts as they fell upon and fought for their prey. We sat mute and trembling with horror, till those sounds at length ceased to reverberate through the aisles and arches of the building.

'O Rome!' cried Probus, when they had died away, 'how art thou drunk with blood! Crazed by ambition, drunk with blood, drowned in sin, hardened as a millstone against all who come to thee for good, how shalt thou be redeemed? where is the power to save thee?'

'It is in thee!' said Julia. 'It is thy blood, Probus, and that of these multitudes who suffer with thee, that shall have power to redeem Rome and the world. The blood of Jesus, first shed, startled the world in its slumbers of sin and death. Thine is needed now to sound another alarm, and rouse it yet once more. And even again and again may the same sacrifice be to be offered up.'

'True, lady,' said Probus; 'it is so. And it is of that I should think. Those for whom I die should fill my thoughts, rather than any concern for my own happiness. If I might but be the instrument, by my death, of opening the eyes of this great people to their errors and their guilt, I should meet death with gratitude and joy.'

With this and such like conversation, Fausta, did we fill up a long interview with Probus. As we rose from our seats to take leave of him, not doubting that we then saw him and spoke to him for the last time, he yielded to the force of nature and wept. But this was but for a moment. Quickly restored to himself—if indeed when shedding those tears he were not more truly himself—he bade us farewell, saying with firmness and cheerfulness as he did so,

'Notwithstanding, Piso, the darkness of this hour and of all the outward prospect, it is bright within. Farewell!—to meet as I trust in Heaven!'

We returned to the Coelian.

* * * * *

When I parted from Probus, at the close of this interview, it was in the belief that I should never see him more. But I was once again in his dungeon, and then heard from him what I will now repeat to you. It was thus.

Not long after we had withdrawn from his cell on our first visit, Probus, as was his wont when alone, sat reading by that dim and imperfect light which the jailer had provided him. He presently closed the volume and laid it away. While he then sat musing, and thinking of the morrow, and of the fate which then probably awaited him, the door of his cell slowly opened. He looked, expecting to see his usual visitant the jailer, but it was a form very different from his. The door closed, and the figure advanced to where Probus sat. The gown in which it was enveloped was then let fall, and the Prefect stood before the Christian.

'Varus!' said Probus. 'Do I see aright?'

'It is Varus,' replied the Prefect. 'And your friend.'

'I would, now at least, be at friendship with all the world,' responded Probus.

'Yet,' said Varus, 'your friends must be few, that you should be left in this place of horror, alone, to meet your fate.'

'I have no friend powerful enough, on earth at least, to cope with the omnipotence of Aurelian,' replied Probus.

'Thy friends, Christian, are more, and more potent than thou dreamest of. As I said to thee before, even Aurelian esteems thee.'

'Strange, that, if he esteems me, as thou sayest, he should thrust me within the lions' den, with prospect of no escape but into their jaws. And can I suppose that his esteem is worth much to me who crowds his prisons with those who are nearest to me, reserving them there for a death the most cruel and abhorred?'