Aurelian or Rome in the Third Century Part 35

'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 b.l.o.o.d.y and severe as Aurelian himself; but in his deeds he is almost more than a Christian.'

'As the true circ.u.mcision,' 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 const.i.tutes 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 G.o.d, 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d, 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 sh.o.r.e 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 mult.i.tudes 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 grat.i.tude 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?'

'He may esteem thee, Probus, and not thy faith. 'Tis so with me. I like not thy faith, but truly do I say it, I like thee, and would fain serve and save thee. Nay, 'tis thy firmness and thy zeal in the cause thou hast espoused that wins me. I honor those virtues. But, Probus, in thee they are dangerous ones. The same qualities in a worthier cause would make thee great. That which thou hast linked thyself to, Christian, is a downward and a dying one. Its doom is sealed. The word of Aurelian is gone forth, and, before the Ides, the blood of every Christian in Rome shall flow--and not in Rome only, but throughout the empire. The forces are now disposing over the whole of this vast realm, which, at a sign from the great Head, shall fall upon this miserable people, and their very name shall vanish from the earth. It is vain to contend. It is but the struggling of a man with the will and the arm of Jove--'

'Varus!--' Probus began.

'Nay,' said the Prefect, 'listen first. This faith of thine, Christian, which can thus easily be destroyed, cannot be that divine and holy thing thou deemest it. So judges Porphyrius, and all of highest mark here in Rome. It is not to be thought of one moment as possible, that what a G.o.d made known to man for truth, he should afterward leave defenceless, to be trodden to the dust, and its ministers and disciples persecuted, tormented, and exterminated by human force. Christian, thou hast been deceived--and all thy fellows are in the like delusion. Do thou then save both thyself and them. It is in thy power to stop all this effusion of blood, and restore unity and peace to an empire now torn and bleeding in every part.'

'And how, Varus--seeing thou wouldst that I should hear all--how shall it be done?'

'Embrace, Probus, the faith of Rome--the faith of thy father, venerable for piety as for years--the faith of centuries, and of millions of our great progenitors and thou art safe, and all thine are safe.'

Probus was silent.

'Aurelian bids me say,' continued the Prefect, 'that doing this, there is not a wish of thy heart, for thyself, or for those who are dear to thee, but it shall be granted. Wealth, more than miser ever craved, office and place lower but little than Aurelian's own, shall be thine--'

'Varus! if there is within thee the least touch of humanity, cease! Thy words have sunk into these dead walls as far as into me; yet have they entered far enough to have wounded the soul through and through. Not, Varus, though to all thou hast said and promised thou shouldst add Rome itself and the empire, and still to that the subject kingdoms of the East and West, with their treasures, and the world itself, would I prove false to myself, my faith, and my G.o.d. Nor canst thou think me base enough for such a deed. This is no great virtue in me, Varus. I hold it not such; nor may you. Go through the secret chambers of these prisons with the same rich bribe upon thy tongue, and not one so fallen wouldst thou find that he would hear thee through as I have done. Varus, thou knowest not what a Christian is! Thou canst not conceive how little a thing life is in his regard set by the side of truth. I grieve that ever I should have been so esteemed by thee as to warrant the proffers thou hast made. This injures more and deeper than these bonds, or than all thine array of engines or of beasts.'

'Be not the fool and madman,' said the Prefect, 'to cast away from thee the mercy I have brought. Except on the terms I have now named, I say there is hope neither for thee, nor for one of this faith in Rome, how ever high their name or rank.'

'That can make no change in my resolve, Varus.'

'Consider, Probus, well. As by thy renunciation thou couldst save thyself, I now tell thee that the lives of those whom thou holdest nearest, hang also upon thy word. a.s.sent to what I have offered, and Piso and Julia live! Reject it, and they die!'

Varus paused; but Probus spoke not. He went on.

'Christian, are not these dear to thee? Demetrius too, and Felix? Where are the mercies of thy boasted faith, if thy heart is left thus hard?

Truly thou mightest as well have lived and died a Pagan.'

'Again I say, Varus, thou knowest not what a Christian is. We put truth before life; and if by but a word that should deny the truth in Christ, or any jot or t.i.ttle of it, I could save the life of Piso, Julia, Felix, Demetrius, nay, and all in Rome who hold this faith, my tongue should be torn from my mouth before that word should be spoken. And so wouldst thou find every Christian here in Rome. Why then urge me more? Did Macer hear thee?'

'I hold thee, Probus, a wiser man than he. All Rome knew him mad. Cast not away thy life. Live, and tomorrow's sun shall see thee First in Rome!'

'Varus! why is this urgency? Think me not a fool and blind. Thou knowest, and Fronto and Aurelian know, that one apostate would weigh more for your bad cause than a thousand headless trunks; and so with cruel and insulting craft you weave your snares and pile to Heaven your golden bribes. Begone, Varus, and say to Aurelian, if in truth he sent thee on thy shameful errand, that, in the Fabrician prison, in the same dungeon where he cast Probus the Christian, there still lives Probus the Roman, who reveres what _he_ once revered and loved, truth, and whom his bribes cannot turn from his integrity.'

'Die then, idiot, in thy integrity! Thou hast thrown scorn upon one, who has power and the will to pay it back in a coin it may little please thee to take it in. If there be one torment, Galilean, sharper than another, it shall be thine tomorrow; and for one moment that Macer pa.s.sed upon my irons, there shall be hours for thee. Not till the flesh be peeled inch by inch from thy bones, and thy vitals look through thy ribs, and thy brain boil in its hot case, and each particular nerve be stretched till it break, shall thy life be suffered to depart. Then, what the tormentors shall have left, the dogs of the streets shall devour. Now, Christian, let us see if thy G.o.d, beholding thy distress, will pity and deliver thee.'

Saying these words, his countenance transformed by pa.s.sion to that of a demon, he turned and left the cell.