Aurelian or Rome in the Third Century Part 8

'Because, Piso, I knew the voice.'

'Knew it! What mean you?'

'Repeat it not--let it sink into your ear, and there abide. It was Macer's.'

'Macer's? Surely you jest.'

'Alas! I wish it were a jest. But his tones were no more to be mistaken than were the thunder's.'

'This, should it be known, would, it is plain to see, greatly exasperate Aurelian. It would be more than enough for Fronto to work his worst ends with. His suspicions at once fell upon the Christians.'

'That,' said Probus, 'was, I am confident, an artifice. The countenance, struck with superst.i.tious horror, is not to be read amiss. Seen, though but for a moment, and the signature is upon it, one and unequivocal. But with quick instinct the wily priest saw his advantage, seized it, and, whether believing or not himself, succeeded in poisoning the mind of Aurelian and that of the mult.i.tude. So great was the commotion among the populace, that, but for the tempest, I believe scarce would the legions of the Emperor have saved us from slaughter upon the spot. Honest, misguided Macer--little dost thou know how deep a wound thou hast struck into the very dearest life of the truth, for which thou wouldst yet at any moment thyself freely suffer and die!'

'What,' said Julia, 'could have moved him to such madness?'

'With him,' replied Probus, 'it was a deed of piety and genuine zeal for G.o.d; he saw it in the light of an act G.o.d-like, and G.o.d-directed. Could you read his heart, you would find it calm and serene, in the consciousness of a great duty greatly performed. It is very possible he may have felt himself to be but an instrument in the hand of a higher power, to whom he gives all the glory and the praise. There are many like him, lady, both among Christians and Pagans. The sybils impose not so much upon others as upon themselves. They who give forth the responses of the oracle, oft-times believe that they are in very truth full of the G.o.d, and speak not their own thoughts, but the inspirations of him whose priests they are. To themselves more than to others are they impostors. The conceit of the peculiar favor of G.o.d, or of the G.o.ds in return for extraordinary devotion, is a weakness that besets our nature wherever it is found. An apostle perhaps never believed in his inspiration more firmly than at times does Macer, and others among us like him. But this inward solitary persuasion we know is nothing, however it may carry away captive the undiscriminating mult.i.tude.'

'Hence, Probus, then, I suppose, the need of some outward act of an extraordinary nature to show the inspiration real.'

'Yes,' he replied. 'No a.s.sertion of divine impulses or revelations can avail to persuade us of their reality, except supported and confirmed by miracle. That, and that only, proves the present G.o.d. Christ would have died without followers had he exhibited to the world only his character and his truth, even though he had claimed, and claimed truly, a descent from and communion with the Deity. Men would have said, 'This is an old and common story. We see every day and everywhere those who affect divine aid. No act is so easy as to deceive one's self. If you propose a spiritual moral system and claim for it a divine authority, show your authority by a divine work, a work impossible to man, and we will then admit your claims. But your own inward convictions alone, sincere as they may be, and possibly founded in truth, pa.s.s with us for nothing.

Raise one that was dead to life, and we will believe you when you reveal to us the spiritual world and the life to come.'

'I think,' said Julia, 'such would be the process in my own mind. There seems the same natural and necessary connection here between spiritual truths and outward acts, as between the forms of letters or the sound of words, and ideas. We receive the most subtle of Plato's reasonings through words--those miracles of material help--which address themselves to the eye or ear. So we receive the truths of Jesus through the eye witnessing his works, or the ear hearing the voice from Heaven.--But we wander from Macer, in whom, from what you have told us, and Piso has known, we both feel deeply interested. Can he not be drawn away from those fancies which possess him? 'Tis a pity we should lose so strong an advocate, to some minds so resistless, nor only that, but suffer injury from his extravagance.'

'It is our purpose,' I replied, 'to visit him to try what effect earnest remonstrance and appeal may have. Soon as I shall return from my promised and now necessary visit to Marcus and Lucilia, I shall not fail, Probus, to request you to accompany me to his dwelling.'

'Does he dwell far from us?' asked Julia.

'His house, if house it may be called,' replied Probus, 'is in a narrow street, which runs just behind the shop of Demetrius, midway between the Capitol and the Quirinal. It is easily found by first pa.s.sing the shop and then descending quick to the left--the street Ja.n.u.s, our friend Isaac's street, turning off at the same point to the right. At Macer's, should your feet ever be drawn that way, you would see how and in what crowded s.p.a.ce the poor live in Rome.'

'Has he then a family, as your words seem to imply?'

'He has; and one more lovely dwells not within the walls of Rome. In his wife and elder children, as I have informed Piso, we shall find warm and eloquent advocates on our side. They tremble for their husband and father, whom they reverence and love, knowing his impetuosity, his fearlessness and his zeal. Many an a.s.sault has he already brought upon himself, and is destined, I fear, to draw down many more and heavier.'

'Heaven s.h.i.+eld them all from harm,' said Julia. 'Are they known to Demetrius? His is a benevolent heart, and he would rejoice to do them a service. No one is better known too or respected than the Roman Demetrius: his name merely would be a protection.'

'It was from Macer,' replied Probus, 'that Demetrius first heard the truth which now holds him captive. Their near neighborhood brought them often together. Demetrius was impressed by the ardor and evident sincerity so visible in the conversation and manners of Macer; and Macer was drawn toward Demetrius by the cast of melancholy--that sober, thoughtful air--that separates him so from his mercurial brother, and indeed from all. He wished he were a Christian. And by happy accidents being thrown together--or rather drawn by some secret bond of attraction--he in no long time had the happiness to see him one. From the hand of Felix he received the waters of baptism.'

'What you have said, Probus, gives me great pleasure. I am not only now sure that Macer and his little tribe have a friend at hand, but the knowledge that such a mind as that of Demetrius has been wrought upon by Macer, has served to raise him in my esteem and respect. He can be no common man, and surely no madman.'

'The world ever loves to charge those as mad,' said Probus, 'who, in devotion to a great cause, exceed its cold standard of moderation.

Singular, that excess virtue should incur this reproach, while excess in vice is held but as a weakness of our nature!'

We were here interrupted by Milo, who came to conduct us to the supper room; and there our friendly talk was prolonged far into the night.

When I next write, I shall have somewhat to say of Marcus, Lucilia, and the little Gallus. How n.o.ble and generous in the Queen, her magnificent gift! When summer comes round again, I shall not fail, together with Julia, to see you there. How many recollections will come thronging upon me when I shall again find myself in the court of the Elephant, sitting where I once sat so often and listened to the voice of Longinus. May you see there many happy years. Farewell.

Nothing could exceed the sensation caused in Rome by the voice heard at the dedication, and among the adherents of the popular faith, by the unlucky omens of the day and of the sacrifice. My office at that time called me often to the capital, and to the palace of Aurelian, and threw me frequently into his company and that of Livia. My presence was little heeded by the Emperor, who, of a bold and manly temper, spoke out with little reserve, and with no disguise or fear, whatever sentiments possessed him. From such opportunities, and from communications of Menestheus, the secretary of Aurelian, little took place at the palace which came not to my knowledge. The morning succeeding the dedication I had come to the city bringing a packet from the Queen to the Empress Livia. While I waited in the common reception room of the palace, I took from a case standing there, a volume and read. As I read, I presently was aroused by the sound of Aurelian's voice. It was as if engaged in earnest conversation. He soon entered the apartment accompanied by the priest of the new temple.

'There is something,' he said as he drew near, 'in this combination of unlucky signs that might appal a stouter spirit than mine. This too, after a munificence toward not one only but all the temples, never I am sure surpa.s.sed. Every G.o.d has been propitiated by gifts and appropriate rites. How can all this be interpreted other than most darkly--other than as a general hostility--and a discouragement from an enterprise upon which I would found my glory. This has come most unlooked for. I confess myself perplexed. I have openly proclaimed my purpose--the word has gone abroad and travelled by this to the court of Persia itself, that with all Rome at my back I am once more to tempt the deserts of the East.'

He here suddenly paused, being reminded by Fronto of my presence.

'Ah, it matters not;' he said; 'this is but Nichomachus, the good servant of the Queen of Palmyra. I hope,' he said, turning to me, 'that the Queen is well, and the young Faustula?'

'They are well,' I replied.

'How agree with her these cooler airs of the west? These are not the breezes of Arabia, that come to-day from the mountains.'

'She heeds them little,' I replied, 'her thoughts are engrossed by heavier cares.'

'They must be fewer now than ever.'

'They are fewer, but they are heavier and weigh upon her life more than the whole East once did. The remembrance of a single great disaster weighs as a heavier burden than the successful management of an empire.'

'True, Nichomachus, that is over true.' Then, without further regarding me, he went on with his conversation with Fronto.

'I cannot,' he said, 'now go back; and to go forward may be persumptuous.'

'I cannot but believe, great Emperor,' said Fronto, 'that I have it in my power to resolve your doubts, and set your mind at ease.'

'Rest not then,' said Aurelian with impatience--'but say on.'

'You sought the G.o.ds and read the omens with but one prayer and thought.

And you have construed them as all bearing upon one point and having one significancy--because you have looked in no other direction. I believe they bear upon a different point, and that when you look behind and before, you will be of the same judgment.'

'Whither tends all this?'

'To this--that the omens of the day bear not upon your eastern expedition, but upon the new religion! You are warned as the great high priest, by these signs in heaven and on earth--not against this projected expedition, which is an act of piety,--but against this accursed superst.i.tion, which is working its way into the empire, and threatening the extermination and overthrow of the very altars on which you laid your costly offerings. What concern can the divinities feel in the array of an army, destined to whatever service, compared with that which must agitate their sacred b.r.e.a.s.t.s as they behold their altars cast down or forsaken, their names profaned, their very being denied, their wors.h.i.+ppers drawn from them to the secret midnight orgies of a tribe of Atheists, whose aim is anarchy in the state and in religion; owning neither king on earth nor king in heaven--every man to be his own priest--every man his own master! Is not this the likeliest reading of the omens?'

'I confess, Fronto,' the Emperor replied, the cloud upon his brow clearing away as he spoke, 'that what you say possesses likelihood. I believe I have interpreted according to my fears. It is as you say--the East only has been in my thoughts. It cannot in reason be thought to be this enterprize, which, as you have said, is an act of piety--all Rome would judge it so--against which the heavens have thus arrayed themselves. Fronto! Fronto! I am another man! Slave,' cried he aloud to one of the menials as he pa.s.sed, 'let Mucapor be instantly summoned. Let there be no delay. Now can my affairs be set on with something more of speed. When the G.o.ds smile, mountains sink to mole-hills. A divine energy runs in the current of the blood and lends more than mortal force to the arm and the will.'

As he spoke, never did so malignant a joy light up the human countenance as was to be seen in the face of Fronto.

'And what then,' he hastily put in as the Emperor paused, 'what shall be done with these profane wretches?'

'The Christians! They must be seen to. I will consider. Now, Fronto, shall I fill to the brim the cup of human glory. Now shall Rome by me vindicate her lost honor and wipe off the foulest stain that since the time of Romulus has darkened her annals.'

'You will do yourself and the empire,' rejoined the priest, 'immortal honor. If danger ever threatened the very existence of the state it is now from the secret machinations of this G.o.d-denying tribe.'

'I spake of the East and of Valerian, Fronto. Syria is now Rome's.

Palmyra, that mushroom of a day, is level with the ground. Her life is out. She will be hereafter known but by the fame of her past greatness, of her matchless Queen, and the glory of the victories that crowned the arms of Aurelian. What now remains but Persia?'

'The Christians,' said the priest, shortly and bitterly.

'You are right, Fronto; the omens are not to be read otherwise. It is against them they point. It shall be maturely weighed what shall be done. When Persia is swept from the field, and Ctesiphon lies as low as Palmyra, then will I restore the honor of the G.o.ds, and let who will dare to wors.h.i.+p other than as I shall ordain! Whoever wors.h.i.+ps them not, or other than them, shall die.'