Aurelian or Rome in the Third Century Part 17

'But, Isaac, forget not your own principles,' said Julia. 'May you, who cannot, as you have said, see the end from the beginning, and whose sight is but a mole's, dare to complain of the providence which threw Piso into the society of the Christian Probus? I am sure you would not, on reflection, re-arrange those events, were it now permitted you. And seeing, Isaac, how much better things are ordered by the Deity than we could do it, and how we should choose voluntarily to surrender all into his hands, whose wisdom is so much more perfect, and whose power is so much more vast, than ours, ought we not, as a necessary consequence of this, to acquiesce in events without complaint, when they have once occurred? If Providence had made both Piso and Probus Christians, then ought you not to complain, but acquiesce; and, more than that, revere the Providence that has done it, and love those none the less whom it has directed into the path in which it would have them go. True piety, is the mother of charity.'

'Princess,' rejoined Isaac, 'you are right. The true love of G.o.d cannot exist, without making us true lovers of man; and Piso I do love, and think none the worse of him for his Christian name. But, touching Probus, and others, I experience some difficulty. Yet may I perhaps, escape thus--I may love them as men, yet hate them as Christians; just as I would bind up the wounds of a thief or an a.s.sa.s.sin, whom I found by the wayside, and yet the next hour bear witness against him, and without compunction behold him swinging upon the gibbet! It is hard, lady, for the Jew to love a Christian and a Roman.--But how have I been led away from what I wished chiefly to say before departing! When I spake just now of the darkness of Providence, I was thinking, Piso, of my journey across the desert for thy Persian brother, Calpurnius. That, as I then said to thee, was dark to me. I could not comprehend how it should come to pa.s.s that I, a Jew, of no less zeal than Simon Ben Gorah himself, should tempt such dangers in the service of thee, a Roman, and half a Christian.'

'And is the enigma solved at length?' asked Julia.

'I could have interpreted it by saying that the merit of doing a benevolent action was its solution.'

'That was little or nothing, princess. But I confess to thee, that the two gold talents of Jerusalem were much. Still, neither they, nor what profit I made in the streets of Ecbatana, and even out of that new Solomon the hospitable Levi, clearly explained the riddle. I have been in darkness till of late. And how, think you, the darkness has been dispersed?'

'We cannot tell.'

'I believe not. Piso! princess! I am the happiest man in Rome.'

'Not happier, Isaac, than Civilis the perfumer.'

'Name him not, Piso. Of all the men--he is no man--of all the living things in Rome I hold him meanest. Him, Piso, I hate. Why, I will not tell thee, but thou mayest guess. Nay, not now. I would have thee first know why I am the happiest man in Rome. Remember you the woman and the child, whom, in the midst of that burning desert, we found sitting, more dead than alive, at the roots of a cedar--the wife, as we afterwards found, of Ha.s.san the camel-driver--and how that child, the living resemblance of my dead Joseph, wound itself round my heart, and how I implored the mother to trust it to me as mine, and I would make it richer than the richest of Ecbatana?'

'We remember it all well.'

'Well, rejoice with me! Ha.s.san is dead!'

'Rejoice in her husband's death? Nay, that we cannot do. Milo will rejoice with thee.'

'Rejoice with me, then, that Ha.s.san, being dead by the providence of G.o.d, Hagar and Ishmael are now mine!'--and the Jew threw down his pack again in the excess of his joy, and strode wildly about the portico.

'This is something indeed,' said Julia. 'Now, we can rejoice sincerely with you. But how happened all this? When, and how, have you obtained the news?'

'Ha.s.san,' replied Isaac, 'as Providence willed it, died in Palmyra. His disconsolate widow, hearing of his death, in her poverty and affliction bethought herself of me, and applied, for intelligence of me, to Levi; from whom a letter came, saying that Hagar had made now on her part the proposal that had once been made on mine--that Ishmael should be mine, provided, he was not to be separated from his mother and a sister older than he by four years. I, indeed, proposed not for the woman, but for the child only--nor for the sister. But they will all be welcome. They must, by this, be in Palmyra on their way to Rome. Yes, they will be all welcome! for now once more shall the pleasant bonds of a home hold me, and the sounds of children's voices--sweeter to my ear than will ever be the harps of angels though Gabriel sweep the strings. Already, in the street Ja.n.u.s, where our tribe most resort, have I purchased me a house; not, Roman, such a one as I dwelt in in Palmyra, where thou and thy foolish slave searched me out, but large and well-ordered, abounding with all that woman's heart could most desire. And now what think you of all this? whither tends it? to what leads all this long and costly preparation? what think you is to come of it? I have my own judgment.

This I know, it cannot be all for this, that a little child of a few years should come and dwell with an old man little removed from the very borders of the grave! Had it been only for this, so large and long a train of strange and wild events would not have been laid. This child, Piso, is more than he seems! take that and treasure it up. It is to this the finger of G.o.d has all along pointed. He is more than he seems! What he will be I say not, but I can dimly--nay clearly guess. And his mother! Piso, what will you think when I say that she is a Jewess! and his father--what will you think when I tell you that he was born upon the banks of the Gallilean lake?--that misfortunes and the love of a wandering life drew him from Judea to the farther East, and to a temporary, yet but apparent apostacy, I am persuaded, from his proper faith? This to me is all wonderful. Never have I doubted, that by my hand, by me as a mediator, some great good was to accrue to Jerusalem.

And now the clouds divide, and my eye sees what has been so long concealed. It shall all come to pa.s.s, before thy young frame, princess, shall be touched by years.'

'We wish you all happiness and joy, Isaac,' replied Julia; 'and soon as this young family shall have reached your dwelling, we shall trust to see them all, specially this young object of thy great expectations.'

Isaac again fastened on his pack, and taking leave of us turned to depart, but ere he did so, he paused--fixed his dark eyes upon us--hesitated--and then said,

'Lady, if trouble flow in upon you here in Rome, and thou wilt not fly, as I have counseled, to Palmyra; but thou shouldst by and by change thy mind and desire safety, or Piso should wish thee safe--perhaps, that by thy life thou mightest work more mightily for thy faith than thou couldst do by thy death--for oftentimes it is not by dying that we best serve G.o.d, or a great cause, but by living--then, bethink thee of my dwelling in the street Ja.n.u.s, where, if thou shouldst once come, I would challenge all the blood-hounds in Rome, and what is more and worse, Fronto and Varus leagued, to find thee. Peace be with you.'

And so saying, he quickly parted from us.

All Rome, Fausta, holds not a man of a larger heart than Isaac the Jew.

For us, Christians as we are, there is I believe no evil to himself he would not hazard, if, in no other way, he could shield us from the dangers that impend. In his conscience he feels bound to hate us, and, often, from the language he uses, it might be inferred that he does so.

But in any serious expression of his feelings, his human affections ever obtain the victory over the obligations of hatred, which his love of country, as he thinks, imposes upon him, and it would be difficult for him to manifest a warmer regard toward any of his own tribe, than he does toward Julia and myself. He is firmly persuaded, that providence is using him as an instrument, by which to effect the redemption and deliverance of his country; not that he himself is to prove the messiah of his nation--as they term their great expected prince--but that through him, in some manner, by some service rendered or office filled, that great personage will manifest himself to Israel. No disappointment damps his zeal, or convinces him of the futility of expectations resting upon no other foundation than his own inferences, conjectures, or fanciful interpretation of the dark sayings of the prophets. When in the East, it was through Palmyra, that his country was to receive her king; through her victories, that redemption was to be wrought out for Israel.

Being compelled to let go that dear and cherished hope, he now fixes it upon this little "Joseph," and it will not be strange if this child of poverty and want should in the end inherit all his vast possessions, by which, he will please himself with thinking, he can force his way to the throne of Judea. Portia derives great pleasure from his conversation, and frequently detains him long for that purpose; and of her Isaac is never weary uttering the most extravagant praise. I sometimes wonder that I never knew him before the Mediterranean voyage, seeing he was so well known to Portia; but then again do not wonder, when I remember by what swarms of mendicants, strangers, and impostors of every sort, Portia was ever surrounded, from whom I turned instinctively away; especially did I ever avoid all intercourse with Christians and Jews. I held them, of all, lowest and basest.

We are just returned from Tibur, where we have enjoyed many pleasant hours with Zen.o.bia. Livia was there also. The day was in its warmth absolutely Syrian, and while losing ourselves in the mazes of the Queen's extensive gardens, we almost fancied ourselves in Palmyra.

Nicomachus being of the company, as he ever is, and Vabalathus, we needed but you, Calpurnius, and Gracchus, to complete the illusion.

The Queen devotes herself to letters. She is rarely drawn from her favorite studies, but by the arrival of friends from Rome. Happy for her is it that, carried back to other ages by the truths of history, or transported to other worlds by the fictions of poetry, the present and the recent can be in a manner forgotten; or, at least, that, in these intervals of repose, the soul can gather strength for the thoughts and recollections which will intrude, and which still sometimes overmaster her. Her correspondence with you is another chief solace. She will not doubt that by and by a greater pleasure awaits her, and that instead of your letters she shall receive and enjoy yourself. Farewell.

LETTER VII.

FROM PISO TO FAUSTA.

The body of the Christians, as you may well suppose, Fausta, is in a state of much agitation. Though they cannot discern plainly the form of the danger that impends, yet they discern it; and the very obscurity in which it is involved adds to their fears. It is several days since I last wrote, yet not a word has come from the palace. Aurelian is seen as usual in all public places; at the capitol, taking charge of the erection and completion of various public edifices; or, if at the palace, he rides as hard as ever, and as much, upon his Hippodrome; or, if at the Pretorian camp, he is exact and severe as ever in maintaining the discipline of the Legions. He has issued no public order of any kind that bears upon us. Yet not only the Christians, but the whole city, stand as if in expectation of measures of no little severity, going at least to the abridgement of many of our liberties, and to the deprivation of many of our privileges. This is grounded chiefly, doubtless, upon the reported imprisonment of Aurelia; for, though some have little hesitation in declaring their belief, that she has been made way with, others believe it not at all; and none can a.s.sign a reason for receiving one story rather than another. How Isaac came to be possessed of his information I do not know, but it bore all the marks of truth. He would inform me neither how he came by it, nor would he allow it to be communicated. But it would never be surprising to discover, that of my most private affairs he has a better knowledge than myself.

Do not, from what I have said, conceive of the Christians as giving any signs of unmanly fear. They perceive that danger threatens, but they change not their manner of life, not turn from the daily path of their pursuits. Believing in a providence, they put their trust in it. Their faith stands them in stead as a sufficient support and refuge. They cannot pretend, any more than Isaac, to see through the plans and purposes of Heaven. They pretend not to know, nor to be able to explain to another, why, if what they receive is the truth, and they are true believers in a true religion, they should be exposed to such sufferings for its sake; and that which is false, and injurious as false, should triumph. It is enough for them, they say, to be fully persuaded; to know, and possess, the truth. They can never relinquish it; they will rather die. But, whether Christianity die with them or not, they cannot tell--that they leave to G.o.d. They do not believe that it will--prophecy, and the present condition of the world, notwithstanding a present overhanging cloud, give them confidence in the ultimate extension and power of their faith. At any rate it shall receive no injury at their hands. They have professed it during twenty years of prosperity, and have boasted of it before the world--they shall profess it with the same boldness, and the same grateful attachment, now that adversity approaches. They are fixed--calm--unmoved. Except for a deeper tone of earnestness and feeling when you converse with them, and a cast of sadness upon the countenance, you would discern no alteration in their conduct or manner.

I might rather say that, in a very large proportion, there are observable the signs of uncommon and almost unnatural exhilaration. They even greet the coming of trouble as that which shall put their faith to the test, shall give a new testimony of the readiness of Christians to suffer, and, like the former persecution, give it a new impulse forwards. They seek occasions of controversy and conversation with the Pagans at public places, at their labor, and in the streets. The preachers a.s.sume a bolder, louder tone, and declaim with ten times more vehemence than ever against the enormities and abominations of the popular religions. Often at the market-places, and at the corners of the streets, are those to be seen, not authorized preachers perhaps, but believers and overflowing with zeal, who, at the risk of whatever popular fury and violence, hold forth the truth in Christ, and denounce the reigning idolatries and superst.i.tions.

At the head of these is Macer; at their head, both as respects the natural vigor of his understanding, and the perfect honesty and integrity of his mind, and his dauntless courage. Every day, and all the day, is he to be found in the streets of Rome, sometimes in one quarter, sometimes in another, gathering an audience of the pa.s.sengers or idlers, as it may be, and sounding in their ears the truths of the new religion.

That he, and others of the same character, deserve in all they do the approbation of the Christian body, or receive it, is more than can be said. They are often, by their violences in the midst of their harangues, by harsh and uncharitable denunciations, by false and exaggerated statements, the causes of tumult and disorder, and contribute greatly to increase the general exasperation against us. With them it seems to be a maxim, that all means are lawful in a good cause.

Nay, they seem rather to prefer the ruder and rougher forms of attack.

They seem possessed of the idea that the world is to be converted in a day, and that if men will not at once relinquish the prejudices or the faith of years, they are fit but for cursings and burnings. In setting forth the mildest doctrine the world ever knew, delivered to mankind by the gentlest, the most patient and compa.s.sionate being it ever saw they a.s.sume a manner and use a language so entirely at variance with their theme, that it is no wonder if prejudices are strengthened oftener than they are set loose, incredulity made more incredulous, and the hardened yet harder of heart. They who hear notice the discrepancy, and fail not to make the use of it they may. When will men learn that the mind is a fortress that can never be taken by storm? You may indeed enter it rudely and by violence, and the signs of submission shall be made: but all the elements of opposition are still there. Reason has not been convinced; errors and misconceptions have not been removed, by a wise and logical and humane dealing, and supplanted by truths well proved, and shown to be truths;--and the victory is one in appearance only. And, what is more, violence, on the part of the reformer and a.s.sailant, begets violence on the other side. The whole inward man, with all his feelings, prejudices, reason, is instantly put into a posture of defence; not only of defence, for that were right, but of angry defence, which is wrong. Pa.s.sion is up, which might otherwise have slept; and it is pa.s.sion, never reason, which truth has to fear. The intellect in its pure form, the advocate of truth would always prefer to meet, for he can never feel sure of a single step made till this has been gained. But intellect, inflamed by pa.s.sion, he may well dread, as what there is but small hope even of approaching, much less of convincing.

Often has Probus remonstrated with this order of men, but in vain. They heed him not, but in return charge him with coldness and indifference, worldliness, and all other a.s.sociated faults. Especially has he labored to preserve Macer from the extremes to which he has run; for he has seen in him an able advocate of Christian truth, could he but be moderated and restrained. But Macer, though he has conceived the strongest affection for Probus, will not allow himself in this matter to be influenced by him. He holds himself answerable to conscience and G.o.d alone for the course he pursues. As for the consequences that may ensue, either to himself or his family, his mind cannot entertain them. It is for Christ he lives, and for Christ he is ready to die.

I had long wished to meet him and witness his manner both of acting and of preaching, and yesterday I was fortunate enough to encounter him. I shall give you, as exactly as I can, what took place; it will show you better than many letters could do what, in one direction, are our present position and prospects.

I was in the act of crossing the great avenue, which, on the south, leads to the Forum, when I was arrested by a disorderly crowd, such as we often see gathered suddenly in the street of a city about a thief who has been caught, or a person who has been trodden down on the pavement.

It moved quickly in the direction of the tribunal of Varus, and, what was my surprise, to behold Macer, in the midst, with head aloft, and inflamed countenance, holding in his grasp, and dragging onwards, one, who would willingly have escaped. The crowd seemed disposed, as I judged by the vituperations that were directed against Macer, to interfere, but were apparently deterred by both the gigantic form of Macer and their vicinity to the tribunal, whither he was going. Waiting till they were at some distance in advance of me, I then followed, determined to judge for myself of this singular man. I was with them in the common hall before the prefect had taken his seat. When seated at his tribunal, he inquired the cause of the tumult, and who it was that wished to appeal to him.

'I am the person,' said Macer; 'and I come to drag to justice this miscreant--'

'And who may you be?'

'I should think Varus might recognize Macer.'

'It is so long since I met thee last at the Emperor's table, that thy features have escaped me.'

At which, as was their duty, the attendant rabble laughed.

'Is there any one present,' continued the prefect, 'who knows this man?'

'Varus need apply to no other than myself,' said Macer. 'I am Macer, the son of that Macer who was neighbor of the gladiator Pollex,--'

'Hold, I say,' interrupted the prefect; 'a man witnesses not here of himself. Can any one here say that this man is not crazy or drunk?'

'Varus! prefect Varus--' cried Macer, his eyes flashing lightning, and his voice not less than thunder; but he was again interrupted.

'Peace, slave! or rods shall teach thee where thou art.' And at the same moment, at a sign from Varus, he was laid hold of with violence by officials of the place armed with spears and rods, and held.

'What I wish to know then,' said Varus, turning to the crowd, 'is, whether this is not the street brawler, one of the impious Gallileans, a man who should long ago have been set in the stocks to find leisure for better thoughts?'