Sandarion, ignorant whence danger might be
expected
to arise, appears not to indulge suspicions of one or another.
Universal Anthology - v07
Now, it might seem profane for Him who rains to say, " I produced the fruits, and the thorns that are in the earth ; " and yet, although profane, it is true.
For, had rain not fallen, there would have been neither fruits nor thorns ; but, having fallen at the proper time and in modera tion, both were produced.
The ground, now, which drank in the rain which often fell upon it, and yet produced thorns and briers, is rejected and nigh to cursing.
The blessing, then, of the rain descended even upon the inferior land ; but it, being neglected and uncultivated, yielded thorns and thistles.
In the same way, therefore, the wonderful works also done by God are, as it were, the rain ; while the differing purposes are, as it were, the cultivated and neglected land, being [yet], like earth, of one nature.
And as if the sun, uttering a voice, were to say, " I liquefy and dry up," liquefaction and drying up being opposite things, he would not speak falsely as regards the point in question, wax being melted and mud being dried by the same heat ; so the same operation, which was performed through the instrumen tality of Moses, proved the hardness of Pharaoh on the one hand, the result of his wickedness, and the yielding of the mixed Egyptian multitude who took their departure with the Hebrews. And the brief statement that the heart of Pharaoh was softened, as it were, when he said, " But ye shall not go far : ye will go a three days' journey and leave your wives,"
ON FREE WILL. 145
and anything else which he said, yielding little by little before the signs, proves that the wonders made some impression even upon him, but did not accomplish all [that they might]. Yet even this would not have happened, if that which is supposed by the many — the hardening of Pharaoh's heart — had been produced by God Himself. And it is not absurd to soften down such expressions agreeably to common usage ; for good masters often say to their slaves, when spoiled by their kind ness and forbearance, " I have made you bad, and I am to blame for offenses of such enormity. " For we must attend to the character and force of the phrase, and not argue sophis- tically, disregarding the meaning of the expression. Paul, accordingly, having examined these points clearly, says to the sinner : " Or despisest thou the riches of His goodness and forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the good ness of God leadeth thee to repentance? but, after thy hard ness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. " Now, let what the apostle says to the sinner be addressed to Pharaoh, and then the announcements made to him will be understood to have been made with peculiar fitness, as to one who, according to his hardness and unrepentant heart, was treasuring up to himself wrath ; see ing that his hardness would not have been proved nor made manifest unless miracles had been performed, and miracles, too, of such magnitude and importance.
But since such narratives are slow to secure assent and are considered to be forced, let us see from the prophetical decla rations also what those persons say who, although they have experienced the great kindness of God, have not lived virtu ously, but have afterwards sinned. " Why, O Lord, hast Thou made us to err from Thy ways? Why hast Thou hardened our heart so as not to fear Thy name? Return for Thy serv ants' sake, for the tribes of Thine inheritance, that we may inherit"a small portion of Thy holy mountain. " And in Jere miah, Thou hast deceived me, O Lord, and I was deceived ; Thou wert strong and Thou didst prevail. " For the expres sion, "Why hast Thou hardened our heart so as not to fear Thy name? " uttered by those who"are begging to receive mercy, is in its nature as follows : Why hast Thou spared us so long, not visiting us because of our sins, but deserting
us, until our transgressions come to a height? " Now He VOL. tii. — 10
146 ON FREE WILL.
leaves the greater part of men unpunished, both in order that the habits of each one may be examined, so far as it depends upon ourselves, and that the virtuous may be made manifest in consequence of the test applied, while the others, not escaping notice from God, — for He knows all things before they exist, — but, from the rational creation and them selves, may afterwards obtain the means of cure, seeing they would not have known the benefit had they not condemned themselves. It is of advantage to each one that he perceive his own peculiar nature and the grace of God. For he who does not perceive his own weakness and the divine favor, although he receive a benefit, yet, not having made trial of himself nor having condemned himself, will imagine that the benefit conferred upon him by the grace of Heaven is his own doing. And this imagination, producing also vanity, will be the cause of a downfall, which, we conceive, was the case with the devil, who attributed to himself the " priority which he possessed when in a state of sinlessness. For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased," and "every one that humbleth himself shall be exalted. " And observe that for this reason divine things have been concealed from the wise and prudent, in order, as says the apostle, that "no flesh should glory in the presence of God " ; and they have been revealed to babes, to those who after childhood have come to better things, and who remember that it is not so much from their own effort as by the unspeakable goodness [of God] that they have reached the greatest possible extent of blessedness.
It is not without reason, then, that he who is abandoned is abandoned to the divine judgment, and that God is long- suffering with certain sinners, but because it will be for their advantage, with respect to the immortality of the soul and the unending world, that they be not quickly brought into a state of salvation, but be conducted to it more slowly, after having experienced many evils. For as physicians who are able to cure a man quickly, when they suspect that a hidden poison exists in the body, do the reverse of healing, making this more certain through their very desire to heal, deeming it better for a considerable time to retain the patient under inflammation and sickness, in order that he may recover his health more surely, than to appear to produce a rapid recovery, and afterwards to cause a relapse, and thus that hasty cure last only for a time. In the same way, God also, who knows
TO THE MARTYRS. 147
the secret things of the heart and foresees future events, in His long-suffering, permits [certain events to occur], and, by means of those things which happen from without, extracts the secret evil, in order to cleanse him who through careless ness has received the seeds of sin, that having vomited them forth when they come to the surface, although he may have been deeply involved in evils, he may afterwards obtain heal ing after his wickedness and be renewed. For God governs souls not with reference, let me say, to the fifty years of the present life, but with reference to an illimitable age.
TO THE MARTYRS. By TERTULLIAN.
[Quintus Septimics Florjsns Tkrtuixianus, "the earliest and next to Augustine the greatest of the Church writers of the West, the creator of Chris tian Latin literature," was born at Carthage of a superior pagan family, about a. d. 150, and highly educated, being very learned in philosophy, history, and law ; went to Rome and was held one of its leading jurists, and wrote legal treatises. Converted in middle age, he returned to Carthage, married, and gave the rest of his life, first to fortifying Christianity against the various pagan schools ; second, to reconciling primitive Christianity with the new systems developed from the Scriptures and the new ecclesiastical forms ; finally, to opposing the conver sion of the Church into a political organization, which in the end led to his break ing with it altogether (about 207) and becoming the head of a "Montanist" community. The date of his death is uncertain. ]
Blessed Martyrs Designate, — Along with the provision which our lady mother the church from her bountiful breasts, and each brother out of his private means, makes for your bodily wants in the prison, accept also from me some contribu tion to your spiritual sustenance. For it is not good that the flesh be feasted and the spirit starve : nay, if that which is weak is carefully looked to, it is but right that that which is still weaker should not be neglected. Not that I am specially entitled to exhort you ; yet not only the trainers and overseers, but even the unskilled, nay, all who choose, without the slightest need for it, are wont to animate from afar by their cries the most accomplished gladiators, and from the mere throng of onlookers useful suggestions have sometimes come. First, then, O blessed, grieve not the Holy Spirit, who has entered the prison with you. For if He had not gone with you there, you would not have
148 TO THE MARTYRS.
been there this day. And do you give all endeavor therefore to retain Him ; so let Him lead you thence to your Lord. The prison, indeed, is the devil's house as well, wherein he keeps his family. But you have come within its walls for the very pur pose of trampling the wicked one under foot in his chosen abode. You had already in pitched battle outside utterly overcome him ; let him have no reason, then, to say to himself, " They are now in my domains ; with vile hatreds I shall tempt them, with defections or dissensions among themselves. " Let him fly from your presence, and skulk away into his own abysses, shrunken and torpid as though he were an outcharmed or outsmoked snake. Give him not the success in his own kingdom of setting you at variance with each other, but let him find you armed and fortified with concord; for peace among you is battle with him. You know that some, not able to find this peace in the church, have been used to seek it from the imprisoned martyrs. And so you ought to have it dwelling with you, and to cherish it, and to guard it, that you may be able perhaps to bestow it upon others.
Other things, hindrances equally of the soul, may have accompanied you as far as the prison gate, to which also your relatives may have attended you. There and thenceforth you were severed from the world ; how much more from the ordi nary course of worldly life and all its affairs ! Nor let this separation from the world alarm you. For if we reflect that the world is more really the prison, we shall see that you have gone out of a prison rather than into one. The world has the greater darkness, blinding men's hearts. The world im poses the more grievous fetters, binding men's very souls. The world breathes out the worst impurities — human lusts. The world contains the larger number of criminals, even the whole human race. Then, last of all, it awaits the judgment, not of the proconsul, but of God. Wherefore, O blessed, you may regard yourselves as having been translated from a prison to, we may say, a place of safety. It is full of darkness, but ye yourselves are light ; it has bonds, but God has made you free. Unpleasant exhalations are there, but ye are an odor of sweetness. The judge is daily looked for, but ye shall judge the judges them selves. Sadness may be there for him who sighs for the world's enjoyments. The Christian outside the prison has renounced
the world, but in the prison he has renounced a prison too. It is of no consequence where you are in the world — you who
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are not of it. And if you have lost some of life's sweets, it is the way of business to suffer present loss, that after gains may be the larger. Thus far I say nothing of the rewards to which God invites the martyrs. Meanwhile let us compare the life of the world and of the prison, and see if the spirit does not gain more in the prison than the flesh loses. Nay, by the care of the church and the love of the brethren, even the flesh does not lose there what is for its good, while the spirit obtains besides important advantages. You have no occasion to look on strange gods, you do not run against their images; you have no part in heathen holidays, even by mere bodily mingling in them ; you are not annoyed by the foul fumes of idolatrous solemnities ; you are not pained by the noise of the public shows, nor by the atrocity or madness or immodesty of their celebrants ; your eyes do not fall on stews and brothels ; you are free from causes of offense, from temptations, from unholy reminiscences ; you are free now from persecution too. The prison does the same service for the Christians which the desert did for the prophet. Our Lord Himself spent much of His
time in seclusion, that He might have greater liberty to pray, that He might be quit of the world. It was in a mountain solitude, too, He showed His glory to His disciples. Let us drop the name of prison ; let us call it a place of retirement. Though the body is shut in, though the flesh is confined, all things are open to the spirit. In spirit, then, roam abroad ; in spirit walk about, not setting before you shady paths or long colonnades, but the way which leads to God. As often as in spirit your footsteps are there, so often you will not be in bonds. The leg does not feel the chain when the mind is in the heavens. The mind compasses the whole man about, and whither it wills it carries him. But where thy heart shall be, there shall be thy treasure. Be there our heart, then, where we would have our treasure.
Grant now, O blessed, that even to Christians the prison is unpleasant. But we were called to the warfare of the living God in our very response to the sacramental words. Well, no soldier comes out to the campaign laden with luxuries, nor does he go to action from his comfortable chamber, but from the light and narrow tent, where every kind of hardness and roughness and disagreeableness must be put up with. Even in peace soldiers inure themselves to war by toils and inconven iences —marching in arms, running over the plain, working
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at the ditch, making the testudo, engaging in many arduous labors. The sweat of the brow is in everything, that bodies and minds may not shrink at having to pass from shade to sun shine, from sunshine to icy cold, from the robe of peace to the coat of mail, from silence to clamor, from quiet to tumult. In like manner, O blessed, count whatever is hard in this lot of yours as a discipline of your powers of mind and body. You are about to pass through a noble struggle, in which the living God acts the part of superintendent, in which the Holy Ghost is your trainer, in which the prize is an eternal crown of angelic essence, citizenship in the heavens, glory everlasting. Therefore your Master, Jesus Christ, who has anointed you with His Spirit, and led you forth to the arena, has seen it good, before the day of conflict, to take you from a condition more pleasant in itself, and imposed on you a harder treatment, that your strength might be the greater. For the athletes, too, are set apart to a more stringent discipline, that they may have their physical powers built up. They are kept from luxury, from daintier meats, from more pleasant drinks; they are pressed, racked, worn out ; the harder their labors in the preparatory training, the stronger is the hope of victory. " And they," says the apostle, " that they may obtain a cor ruptible crown. " We, with the crown eternal in our eye, look upon the prison as our training ground, that at the goal of final judgment we may be brought forth well disciplined by many a trial ; since virtue is built up by hardships, as by voluptuous indulgence it is overthrown.
From the saying of our Lord we know that the flesh is weak, the spirit willing. Let us not, withal, take delusive comfort from the Lord's acknowledgment of the weakness of the flesh. For precisely on this account He first declared the spirit willing, that He might show which of the two ought to be subject to the other — that the flesh might yield obedience to the spirit — the weaker to the stronger; the former thus from the latter getting strength. Let the spirit hold converse with the flesh about the common salvation, thinking no longer of the troubles of the prison, but of the wrestle and conflict for which they are the preparation. The flesh, perhaps, will dread the merciless sword, and the lofty cross, and the rage of the wild beasts, and that punishment of the flames, of all most terrible, and all the skill of the executioner in torture. But, on the other side, let the spirit set clearly forth before itself
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and the flesh, how these things, though exceeding painful, have yet been calmly endured by many, — nay, have even been desired for the sake of fame and glory ; and this not only in the case of men, but of women too, that you, O holy women, may be worthy of your sex. It would take me too long to enumerate one by one the men who at their own self-impulse have put an end to themselves. As to women, there is a famous case at hand : the violated Lucretia, in the presence of her kinsfolk, plunged the knife into herself, that she might have glory for her chastity. Mucius burned his right hand on an altar, that this deed of his might dwell in fame. The philosophers have been outstripped, — for instance Heraclitus, who, smeared with cow dung, burned himself ; and Empedocles, who leapt down into the fires of Etna ; and Peregrinus, who not long ago threw himself on the funeral pile. For women even have despised the flames. Dido did so, lest, after the death of a husband very dear to her, she should be compelled to marry again; and so did the wife of Hasdrubal, who, Carthage now on fire, that she might not behold her husband suppliant at Scipio's feet, rushed with her children into the
in which her native city was destroyed. Regu- lus, a Roman general, who had been taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, declined to be exchanged for a large number of Carthaginian captives, choosing rather to be given back to the enemy. He was crammed into a sort of chest; and, every where pierced by nails driven from the outside, he endured so many crucifixions. Woman has voluntarily sought the wild beasts, and even asps, those serpents worse than bear or bull, which Cleopatra applied to herself, that she might not fall into the hands of her enemy. But the fear of death is not so great as the fear of torture. And so the Athenian courtesan suc cumbed to the executioner, when subjected to torture by the tyrant for having taken part in a conspiracy, still making no betrayal of her confederates, she at last bit off her tongue and spat it in the tyrant's face, that he might be convinced of the uselessness of his torments, however long they should be con tinued. Everybody knows what to this day is the great Lacedaemonian solemnity — the scourging; in which sacred rite the Spartan youths are beaten with scourges before the altar, their parents and kinsmen standing by and exhorting them to stand it bravely out. For it will be always counted more honorable and glorious that the soul rather than the
conflagration,
152 TO THE MARTYRS.
body has given itself to stripes. But if so high a value is put on the earthly glory, won by mental and bodily vigor, that men, for the praise of their fellows, I may say, despise the sword, the fire, the cross, the wild beasts, the torture ; these surely are but trifling sufferings to obtain a celestial glory and a divine reward. If the bit of glass is so precious, what must the true pearl be worth? Are we not called on, then, most joy fully to lay out as much for the true as others do for the false ?
I leave out of account now the motive of glory. All these same cruel and painful conflicts, a mere vanity you find among men — in fact, a sort of mental disease — has trampled under foot. How many ease-lovers does the conceit of arms give to the sword? They actually go down to meet the very wild beasts in vain ambition ; and they fancy themselves more win some from the bites and scars of the contest. Some have sold themselves to fires, to run a certain distance in a burning tunic. Others, with most enduring shoulders, have walked about under the hunters' whips. The Lord has given these things a place in the world, O blessed, not without some reason : for what reason, but now to animate us, and on that day to con found us if we have feared to suffer for the truth, that we might be saved, what others out of vanity have eagerly sought for to their ruin?
Passing, too, from examples of enduring constancy having such an origin as this, let us turn to a simple contemplation of man's estate in its ordinary conditions, that mayhap from things that happen to us whether we will or no, and which we must set our minds to bear, we may get instruction. How often then have fires consumed the living ! How often have wild beasts torn men in pieces, it may be in their own forests, or it may be in the heart of cities, when they have chanced to escape from their dens ! How many have fallen by the robber's sword ! How many have suffered at the hands of enemies the death of the cross, after having been tortured first, yes, and treated with every sort of contumely ! One may even suffer in the cause of a man what he hesitates to suffer in the cause of God. In reference to this, indeed, let the present times bear testimony, when so many persons of rank have met with death in a mere human being's cause, and that though from their birth and dignities and bodily condition and age such a fate seemed most unlikely ; either suffering at his hands if they have taken part against him, or from his enemies if they have been his partisans.
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 153
THE FALL OF PALMYRA, a. d. 272. By WILLIAM WARE.
(From "Zenobia. ")
[William Ware, an American clergyman and historical novelist, was born at Hingham, Mass. , August 3, 1797. He studied theology under his father's direction ; held pastorates of Unitarian churches in Brooklyn, Conn. , Burlington, Vt. , New York city (1821-1836), and in towns near Boston ; and retired from the ministry on account of failing health. He was the author of the popular historical novels : "Zenobia, ortheFallof Palmyra," "Aurelian," and "Julian. " Died at Cambridge, Mass. , February 19, 1852. ]
I write again from Palmyra.
We arrived here after a day's hard travel. The sensation occasioned by the unexpected return of Gracchus seemed to cause a temporary forgetfulness of their calamities on the part of the citizens. As we entered the city at the close of the day, and they recognized their venerated friend, there were no bounds to the tumultuous expressions of their joy. The whole city was abroad. It were hard to say whether Fausta herself was more pained by excess of pleasure, than was each citizen who thronged the streets as we made our triumphal entry.
A general amnesty of the past having been proclaimed by Sandarion immediately after the departure of Aurelian with the prisoners whom he chose to select, we found Calpurnius already returned. At Fausta's side he received us as we dis mounted in the palace yard. I need not tell you how we passed our first evening. Yet it was one of very mixed enjoy ment. Fausta's eye, as it dwelt upon the beloved form of her father, seemed to express unalloyed happiness. But then, again, as it was withdrawn at those moments when his voice kept not her attention fixed upon himself, she fell back upon the past and the lost, and the shadows of a deep sadness would gather over her. So, in truth, was it with us all ; especially when, at the urgency of the rest, I related to them the inter views I had had with Longinus, and described to them his behavior in the prison, and at the execution.
"I think," said Fausta, "that Aurelian, in the death of Longinus, has injured his fame far more than by the capture of Zenobia and the reduction of Palmyra he has added to it. Posterity will not readily forgive him for putting out, in its
154
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meridian blaze, the very brightest light of the age. It surely was an unnecessary act. "
" The destruction of prisoners, especially those of rank and influence, is," said I, " according to the savage usages of war ; and Aurelian defends the death of Longinus by saying that in becoming the first adviser of Zenobia, he was no longer Longi nus the philosopher, but Longinus the minister and rebel. "
" Fausta," said Gracchus, " you are right. And had Aure lian been any more or higher than a soldier, he would not have dared to encounter the odium of the act ; but in simple truth he was, I suppose, and is utterly insensible to the crime he has committed, not against an individual or Palmyra, but against the civilized world and posterity, — a crime that will grow in its magnitude as time rolls on, and will forever, and to the remotest times, blast the fame and the name of him who did it. Longinus belonged to all times and people, and by them will be avenged. Aurelian could not understand the greatness of his victim, and was ignorant that he was drawing upon himself a reproach greater than if he had sacrificed in his fury the queen herself and half the inhabitants of Palmyra. He will find it out when he reaches Rome. He will find himself as notorious there, as the murderer of Longinus, as he will be as conqueror of the East. "
" That will be held," she replied, " as a poor piece of soph istry. He was still Longinus, and in killing Longinus the minister, he basely slew Longinus the renowned philosopher, the accomplished scholar, the man of letters and of taste, the greatest man of the age, — for you will not say that either in Rome or Greece there now lives his equal. "
"There was one sentiment of Aurelian," I said, "which he expressed to me when I urged upon him the sparing of Lon ginus, to which you must allow some greatness to attach. I had said to him that it was greater to pardon than to punish, and that for that reason 'Ah ! ' he replied, interrupting me, ' I may not gain to myself the fame of magnanimity at the ex pense of Rome. As the chief enemy of Rome in this rebellion, Rome requires his punishment, and Rome is the party to be satisfied, not I. '"
"I grant that there is greatness in the sentiment. If he was sincere, all we can say is that he misjudged in supposing that Rome needed the sacrifice. She needed it not. There were enough heads like mine, of less worth, that would do for the soldiers, — for they are Rome in Aurelian's vocabulary. "
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" Men of humanity and of letters," I replied, " will, I sup pose, decide upon this question one way, politicians and soldiers another. "
" That, I believe," rejoined Gracchus, " is nearly the truth. "
Then, wearied by a prolonged conversation, we sought the repose of our pillows, each one of us happier by a large and overflowing measure, than but two days before we had ever thought to be again.
The city is to all appearance tranquil and acquiescent under its bitter chastisement. The outward aspect is calm and peace ful. The gates are thrown open, and the merchants and traders are returning to the pursuits of traffic ; the gentry and nobles are engaged in refitting and reembellishing their rifled palaces ; and the common people have returned in quiet to the several channels of their industry.
I have made, however, some observations which lead me to believe that all is not so settled and secure as it seems to be, and that however the greater proportion of the citizens are content to sit down patiently under the rule of their new mas ters, others are not of their mind. I can perceive that Antio- chus, who, under the general pardon proclaimed by Sandarion, has returned to the city, is the central point of a good deal of interest among a certain class of citizens. He is again at the head of the same licentious and desperate crew as before, — a set of men, like himself, large in their resources, lawless in their lives, and daring in the pursuit of whatever object they set before them. To one who knows the men, their habits and manners, it is not difficult to see that they are engaged in other plans than appear upon the surface. Yet are their movements so quietly ordered as to occasion no general observation or re mark.
Sandarion, ignorant whence danger might be expected to arise, appears not to indulge suspicions of one or another. Indeed, from the smallness of the garrison, from the whole manner both of the governor and those who are under him, soldiers and others, it is evident that no thought of a rising on the part of the populace has entered their minds.
A few days have passed, and Gracchus and Fausta, who in clined not to give much heed to my observations, both think with me; indeed, to Gracchus communication has been made of the existence of a plot to rescue the city from the hands of Rome, in which he has been solicited to join.
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Antiochus himself has sought and obtained an interview with Gracchus.
Gracchus has not hesitated to reject all overtures from that quarter. We thus learn that the most desperate measures are
in agitation, — weak and preposterous, too, as they are desper ate, and must in the end prove ruinous. Antiochus, we doubt not, is a tool in the hands of others ; but he stands out as the head and center of the conspiracy. There is a violent and a strong party, consisting chiefly of the disbanded soldiers, but of some drawn from every class of the inhabitants, whose ob ject is, by a sudden attack, to snatch the city from the Roman garrison, and placing Antiochus on the throne, proclaim their independence again, and prepare themselves to maintain and defend it. They make use of Antiochus because of his connec tion with Zenobia, and the influence he would exert through that prejudice, and because of his sway over other families among the richest and most powerful, especially the two princes, Herennianus and Timolaus, and because of his foolhardiness. If they should fail, he, they imagine, will be the only or the chief sacrifice, and he can well be spared. If they succeed, it will be an easy matter afterwards to dispose of him, if his character or measures as their king should displease them, and exalt some other and worthier in his room.
"I told him," replied Gracchus, "what I thought, — that the plan struck me not only as frantic and wild, but foolish ; that I for myself should engage in no plot of any kind, having in view any similar object, much less in such a one as he pro posed. I told him that if Palmyra was destined ever to assert its supremacy and independence of Rome, it could not be for many years to come, and then by watching for some favorable juncture in the affairs of Rome in other parts of the world. It might very well happen, I thought, that in the process of years, and when Palmyra had wholly recruited her strength after her late and extreme sufferings, there might occur some period of revolution or inward commotion in the Roman empire, such as would leave her remote provinces in a comparatively unpro tected state. Then would be the time for reasserting our
independence ; then we might spring upon our keepers with some good prospect of overpowering them, and taking again to ourselves our own government. But now, I tried to convince him, it was utter madness, or worse, stupidity, to dream of sue
" And what, father," said Fausta, " said you to Antiochus ? "
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cess in such an enterprise. The Romans were already inflamed and angry, not half appeased by the bloody offering that had just been made ; their strength was undiminished, — for what could diminish the strength of Rome, — and a rising could no sooner take place, than her legions would again be upon us, and our sufferings might be greater than ever. I entreated him to pause, and to dissuade those from action who were connected with him. I did not hesitate to set before him a lively picture of his own hazard in the affair, — that he, if failure ensued,
I held this number to be, had no right to endanger, by any selfish and besotted conduct, the general welfare, the lives and prop
would be the first victim. I urged, moreover, that a few, as
erty of the citizens ; that not till he felt he had the voice of the people with him, ought he to dare to act ; and that although I should not betray his counsels to Sandarion, I should to the people, unless I received from him ample assurance that no move ment should be made without a full disclosure of the project to all the principal citizens, as representatives of the whole city. "
" And how took he all that ? " we asked.
"He was evidently troubled at the vision I raised of his own head borne aloft upon a Roman pike, and not a little dis concerted at what I labored to convince him were the rights of us all in the case. I obtained from him in the end a solemn promise that he would communicate what I had said to his companions, and that they would forbear all action till they had first obtained the concurrence of the greater part of the city. I assured him, however, that in no case, and under no conceivable circumstances, could he or any calculate upon any cooperation of mine. Upon any knowledge which I might obtain of intended action, I should withdraw from the city. "
"It is a sad fate," said Fausta, "that having just escaped with our lives and the bare walls of our city and dwellings from the Romans, we are now to become the prey of a wicked faction among ourselves. But, can you trust the word of Antiochus that he will give you timely notice if they go on to prosecute the affair? Will they not now work in secret all the more, and veil themselves even from the scrutiny of citizens ? "
" I hardly think they can escape the watchful eyes that will be fixed upon them," replied Gracchus ; " nor do I believe that, however inclined Antiochus might be to deceive me, those who are of his party would agree to such baseness. There are honorable men, however deluded, in his company. "
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Several days have passed, and our fears are almost laid. Antiochus and the princes have been seen as usual frequenting the more public streets, lounging in the Portico, or at the places of amusement. — And the evenings have been devoted to gayety and pleasure, Sandarion himself, and the officers of his legion, being frequent visitors at the palace of Antiochus, and at that of the Caesars, lately the palace of Zenobia.
During this interval we have celebrated, with all becoming rites, the marriage of Fausta and Calpurnius, hastened at the urgency of Gracchus, who, feeling still very insecure of life, and doubtful of the continued tranquillity of the city, wished to bestow upon Calpurnius the rights of a husband, and to secure to Fausta the protection of one. Gracchus seems happier and lighter of heart since this has been done, — so do we all. It was an occasion of joy, but as much of tears also. An event which we had hoped to have been graced by the presence of Zenobia, Julia, and Longinus, took place almost in solitude and silence. But of this I have written fully to Portia.
That which we have apprehended has happened. The blow has been struck, and Palmyra is again, in name at least, free and independent.
Early on the morning after the marriage of Fausta, we were alarmed by the sounds of strife and commotion in the streets, — by the cries of those who pursued, and of those who fled and fought. It was as yet hardly light. But it was not difficult to know the cause of the uproar or the parties engaged. We seized our arms, and prepared ourselves for defense, against whatever party, Roman or Palmyrene, should make an assault. The preparation was, however, needless, for the contest was al ready decided. The whole garrison, with the brave Sandarion at their head, has been massacred, and the power of Palmyra is in the hands of Antiochus and his adherents. There has been in truth no fighting, it has been the murder rather of unprepared and defenseless men. The garrison was cut off in detail while upon their watch, by overwhelming numbers. Sandarion was dispatched in his quarters, and in his bed, by the very inhuman wretches at whose tables he had just been feasted, from whom he had but a few hours before parted,
giving and receiving the signs of friendship. The cowardly Antiochus it was who stabbed him as he sprang from his sleep, encumbered and disabled by his night clothes. Not a Roman has escaped with his life.
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Antiochus is proclaimed king, and the streets of the city have resounded with the shouts of this deluded people, crying, " Long live Antiochus 1 " He has been borne in tumult to the great portico of the Temple of the Sun, where, with the ceremonies prescribed for the occasion, he has been crowned king of Palmyra and of the East. —
While these things were in progress,
ing upon his authority, and the government forming itself, — Gracchus chose and acted his part.
" There is little safety," he said, " for me now, I fear, any where, — but least of all here. But were I secure of life, Pal myra is now a desecrated and polluted place, and I would fain depart from it. I could not remain in it, though covered with honor, to see Antiochus in the seat of Zenobia, and Critias in the chair of Longinus. I must go, as I respect myself, and as I desire life. Antiochus will bear me no good will ; and no sooner will he have become easy in his seat and secure of his power, than he will begin the work for which his nature alone fits him, of cold-blooded revenge, cruelty, and lust. I trust indeed that his reign will end before that day shall arrive ; but it may not, and it will be best for me and for you, my chil dren, to remove from his sight. If he sees us not, he may forget us. "
We all gladly assented to the plan which he then proposed. It was to withdraw as privately as possible to one of his estates in the neighborhood of the city, and there await the unfolding of the scenes that remained yet to be enacted. The plan was at once carried into effect. The estate to which we retreated was about four Roman miles from the walls, situated upon an eminence, and overlooking the city and the surrounding plains. Soon as the shadows of the evening of the first day of the reign of Antiochus had fallen, we departed from Palmyra, and within an hour found ourselves upon a spot as wild and secluded as if it had been within the bosom of a wilderness. The build ing consists of a square tower of stone, large and lofty, built originally for purposes of war and defense, but now long oc cupied by those who have pursued the peaceful labors of hus bandry. The wildness of the region, the solitariness of the place, the dark and frowning aspect of the impregnable tower, had pleased the fancy of both Gracchus and Fausta, and it has been used by them as an occasional retreat at those times when, wearied of the sound and sight of life, they have needed per
the new king enter
160 THE FALL OF FALMYRA.
feet repose. A few slaves are all that are required to constitute a sufficient household.
Here, Curtius, notwithstanding the troubled aspect of the times, have we passed a few days of no moderate enjoyment. Had there been no other, it would have been enough to sit and witness the happiness of Calpurnius and Fausta. But there have been and are other sources of satisfaction, as you will not doubt. We have now leisure to converse at such length as we please upon a thousand subjects which interest us. Seated upon the rocks at nightfall, or upon the lofty battlements of the tower, or at hot noon reclining beneath the shade of the terebinth or palm, we have tasted once again the calm delights we experienced at the queen's mountain palace. In this man ner have we heard from Calpurnius accounts every way instruc tive and entertaining of his life while in Persia ; of the character and acts of Sapor ; of the condition of that empire, and its wide spread population. Nothing seems to have escaped his notice and investigation. At these times and places too, do I amuse and enlighten the circle around me by reading such portions of your letters and of Portia's as relate to matters generally inter esting ; and thus too do we discuss the times, and speculate upon the events with which the future labors in relation to Palmyra.
In the mean time we learn that the city is given up to fes tivity and excess. Antiochus, himself possessing immense riches, is devoting these, and whatever the treasury of the kingdom places within his reach, to the entertainment of the people with shows and games after the Roman fashion, and seems really to have deluded the mass of the people so far as to have convinced them that their ancient prosperity has re turned, and that he is the father of their country, a second Odenatus. He has succeeded in giving to his betrayal of the queen the character and merit of a patriotic act, at least with the creatures who uphold him ; and there are no praises so false and gross that they are not heaped upon him, and imposed upon the people in proclamations and edicts. The ignorant — and where is it that they are not the greater part ? — stand by, wonder, and believe. They cannot penetrate the wickedness of the game that has been played before them, and by the arts of the king and his minions have already been converted into friends and supporters.
The defense of the city is not, we understand, wholly
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161
neglected. But having before their eyes some fear of retribu tion, troops are again levied and organized, and the walls beginning to be put into a state of preparation. But this is all of secondary interest, and is postponed to any object of more immediate and sensual gratification.
But there are large numbers of the late queen's truest friends who with Gracchus look on in grief, and terror even, at the order of things that has arisen, and prophesying with him a speedy end to it, either from interior and domestic revolu tion, or a return of the Roman armies, accompanied in either case of course by a widespread destruction, have with him also secretly withdrawn from the city, and fled either to some neighboring territory, or retreated to the fastnesses of the rural districts. Gracchus has not ceased to warn all whom he knows and chiefly esteems of the dangers to be apprehended, and urge upon them the duty of a timely escape.
Messengers have arrived from Antiochus to Gracchus, with whom they have held long and earnest conference, the object of which has been to induce him to return to the city, and resume his place at the head of the senate, the king well know ing that no act of his would so much strengthen his power as to be able to number Gracchus among his friends. But Grac chus has not so much as wavered in his purpose to keep aloof from Antiochus and all concern with his affairs. His contempt and abhorrence of the king would not however, he says, prevent his serving his country, were he not persuaded that in so short a time violence of some sort from without or within would pros trate king and government in the dust.
It was only a few days after the messengers from Antiochus had paid their visit to Gracchus, that as we were seated upon a shady rock not far from the tower, listening to Fausta as she read to us, we were alarmed by the sudden irruption of Milo upon our seclusion, breathless, except that he could just exclaim, " The Romans ! the Romans ! " As soon as he could command his speech, he said that the Roman army could plainly be dis cerned from the higher points of the land, rapidly approach ing the city, of which we might satisfy ourselves by ascending the tower.
" Gods ! can it be possible," exclaimed Gracchus, " that Aurelian can himself have returned ? He must have been well on his way to the Hellespont ere the conspiracy broke out. "
" I can easily believe it," I replied, as we hastened toward VOL. VII. —11
162 THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
the old tower, " from what I have known and witnessed of the promptness and miraculous celerity of his movements. "
As we came forth upon the battlements of the t^wer, not a doubt remained that it was indeed the Romans pouring in again like a flood upon the plains of the now devoted city. Far as the eye could reach to the west, clouds of dust indicated the line of the Roman march, while the van was already within a mile of the very gates. The roads leading to the capital, in every direction, seemed covered with those who, at the last moment, ere the gates were shut, had fled and were flying to escape the impending desolation. All bore the appearance of a city taken by surprise and utterly unprepared, — as we doubted not was the case from what we had observed of its actual state, and from the suddenness of Aurelian's return and approach.
" Now," said Fausta, " I can believe that the last days of Palmyra have arrived. It is impossible that Antiochus can sustain the siege against what will now be the tenfold fury of Aurelian and his enraged soldiers. "
A very few days will suffice for its reduction, if long before it be not again betrayed into the power of the assailants.
We have watched with intense curiosity and anxiety the scene that has been performing before our eyes. We are not so remote but what we can see with considerable distinctness what ever takes place, sometimes advancing and choosing our point of observation upon some nearer eminence.
After one day of preparation, and one of assault, the city has fallen, and Aurelian again entered in triumph, — this time in the spirit of revenge and retaliation. It is evident, as we look on horror-struck, that no quarter is given, but that a gen eral massacre has been ordered, both of soldier and citizen. We can behold whole herds of the defenseless populace escaping from the gates or over the walls, only to be pursued, hunted, and slaughtered by the remorseless soldiers. And thousands upon thousands have we seen driven over the walls, or hurled from the battlements of the lofty towers, to perish, dashed upon the rocks below. Fausta cannot endure these sights of horror, but retires and hides herself in her apartments.
No sooner had the evening of this fatal day set in, than a new scene of terrific sublimity opened before us, as we beheld flames beginning to ascend from every part of the city. They grew and spread till they presently appeared to wrap all objects alike in one vast sheet of fire. Towers, pinnacles, and domes,
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 163
after glittering awhile in the fierce blaze, one after another fell and disappeared in the general ruin. The Temple of the Sun stood long untouched, shining almost with the brightness of the sun itself, its polished shafts and sides reflecting the sur rounding fire with an intense brilliancy. We hoped that it might escape, and were certain that it would, unless fired from within, — as from its insulated position the flames from the neighboring buildings could not reach it. But we watched not long ere from its western extremity the fire broke forth, and warned us that that peerless monument of human genius, like all else, would soon crumble to the ground. To our amaze ment, however, and joy, the flames, after having made great progress, were suddenly arrested, and by some cause extin guished ; and the vast pile stood towering in the center of the desolation, of double size, as it seemed, from the fall and disap pearance of so many of the surrounding structures.
" This," said Fausta, " is the act of a rash and passionate man. Aurelian, before to-morrow's sun has set, will himself repent it. What a single night has destroyed, a century could not restore. This blighted and ruined capital, as long as its crumbling remains shall attract the gaze of the traveler, will utter a blasting malediction upon the name and memory of Aurelian. Hereafter he will be known, not as conqueror of the East, and the restorer of the Roman empire, but as the executioner of Longinus and the ruthless destroyer of Pal myra. "
" I fear that you prophesy with too much truth," I replied. " Rage and revenge have ruled the hour, and have committed horrors which no reason and no policy, either of the present or of any age, will justify. "
" It is a result ever to be expected," said Gracchus, " so long as mankind will prefer an ignorant, unlettered soldier as their ruler. They can look for nothing different from one whose ideas have been formed by the camp alone, — whose vulgar mind has never been illuminated by study and the knowledge of antiq uity. Such a one feels no reverence for the arts, for learning, for philosophy, or for man as man ; he knows not what these mean ; power is all he can comprehend, and all he worships. As long as the army furnishes Rome with her emperors, so long may she know that her name will, by acts like these, be handed down to posterity covered with the infamy that belongs to the polished savage, the civilized barbarian. Come, Fausta, let us now in
164 THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
and hide ourselves from this sight, too sad and sorrowful to gaze upon. "
" I can look now, father, without emotion," she replied ; " a little sorrow opens all the fountains of grief, too much seals them. I have wept till I can weep no more. My sensibility is, I believe, by this succession of calamities, dulled till it is dead. "
Aurelian, we learn, long before the fire had completed its work of destruction, recalled the orders he had given, and labored to arrest the progress of the flames. In this he to a considerable extent succeeded, and it was owing to this that the great temple was saved, and others among the most costly and beautiful structures.
On the third day after the capture of the city and the massacre of the inhabitants, the army of the "conqueror and destroyer " withdrew from the scene of its glory, and again dis appeared beyond the desert. I sought not the presence of Aurelian while before the city ; for I cared not to meet him drenched in the blood of women and children. But as soon as he and his legions were departed, we turned toward the city, as children to visit the dead body of a parent.
No language which I can use, my Curtius, can give you any just conception of the horrors which met our view on the way to the walls, and in the city itself. For more than a mile be fore we reached the gates, the roads, and the fields on either hand, were strewed with the bodies of those who, in their at tempts to escape, had been overtaken by the enemy and slain. Many a group of bodies did we notice, evidently those of a family, the parents and the children, who, hoping to reach in company some place of security, had all — and without resist ance apparently — fallen a sacrifice to the relentless fury of their pursuers. Immediately in the vicinity of the walls, and under them, the earth was concealed from the eye by the multi tudes of the slain, and all objects were stained with the one hue of blood. Upon passing the gates, and entering within those walls which I had been accustomed to regard as embracing in their wide and graceful sweep the most beautiful city of the world, my eye met naught but black and smoking ruins, fallen houses and temples, the streets choked with piles of still blazing timbers and the half-burned bodies of the dead. As I pene trated farther into the heart of the city, and to its better-built and more spacious quarters, I found the destruction to be less,
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 165
— that the principal streets were standing, and many of the more distinguished structures. But everywhere, —in the
streets, upon the porticoes of private and public dwellings, upon the steps and within the very walls of the temples of every faith, — in all places, the most sacred as well as the most com mon, lay the mangled carcasses of the wretched inhabitants. None, apparently, had been spared. The aged were there, with their bald or silvered heads, little children and infants, women, the young, the beautiful, the good, — all were there, slaughtered in every imaginable way, and presenting to the eye spectacles of horror and of grief enough to break the heart and craze the brain. For one could not but go back to the day and the hour when they died, and suffer with these innocent thousands a part of what they suffered, when, the gates of the city giving way, the infuriated soldiery poured in, and with death written in their faces and clamoring on their tongues, their quiet houses were invaded, and, resisting or unresisting, they all fell to gether beneath the murderous knives of the savage foe. What shrieks then rent and filled the air ; what prayers of agony went up to the gods for life to those whose ears on mercy's side were adders'; what piercing supplications that life might be taken and honor spared ! The apartments of the rich and the noble presented the most harrowing spectacles, where the inmates, delicately nurtured, and knowing of danger, evil, and wrong only by name and report, had first endured all that nature most abhors, and then there, where their souls had died, were slain by their brutal violators with every circum stance of most demoniac cruelty. Happy for those, who, like Gracchus, foresaw the tempest and fled. These calamities have fallen chiefly upon the adherents of Antiochus ; but among them, alas ! were some of the noblest and most honored families of the capital. Their bodies now lie blackened and bloated upon their doorstones ; their own halls have become their tombs.
We sought together the house of Gracchus. We found it partly consumed, partly standing and uninjured. The offices and one of the rear wings were burned and level with the ground, but there the flames had been arrested, and the re mainder, comprising all the principal apartments, stands as it stood before. The palace of Zenobia has escaped without harm ; its lofty walls and insulated position were its protection. The Long Portico, with its columns, monuments, and inscriptions,
166
THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
remains also untouched by the flames, and unprofaned by any violence from the wanton soldiery. The fire has fed upon the poorer quarters of the city, where the buildings were composed in greater proportion of wood, and spared most of the great thoroughfares, principal avenues, and squares of the capital, which, being constructed in the most solid manner of stone, resisted effectually all progress of the flames ; and though fre quently set on fire for the purpose of their destruction, the fire perished from a want of material, or it consumed but the single edifice where it was kindled.
The silence of death and of ruin rests over this once and but so lately populous city. As I stood upon a high point which overlooked a large extent of it, I could discern no signs of life except here and there a detachment of the Roman guard drag ging forth the bodies of the slaughtered citizens, and bearing them to be burned or buried. This whole people is extinct. In a single day these hundred thousands have found a common
Not one remains to bewail or bury the dead. Where are the anxious crowds, who, when their dwellings have been burned, eagerly rush in as the flames have spent themselves, to sorrow over their smoking altars, and pry with busy search among the hot ashes, if perchance they may yet rescue some lamented treasure, or bear away, at least, the bones of a parent or a child buried beneath the ruins ? They are not here. It is broad day, and the sun shines brightly ; but not a living form is seen lingering about these desolated streets and squares. Birds of prey are already hovering round, and alighting, with out apprehension of disturbance, wherever the banquet invites them ; and soon as the shadows of evening shall fall, the hyena of the desert will be here to gorge himself upon what they have left, having scented afar off upon the tainted breeze the fumes of the rich feast here spread for him. These Roman gravedig- gers from the legion of Bassus are alone upon the ground to contend with them for their prize. O miserable condition of humanity ! Why is it that to man have been given passions which he cannot tame, and which sink him below the brute? Why is it that a few ambitious are permitted by the Great Ruler, in the selfish pursuit of their own aggrandizement, to scatter in ruin, desolation, and death whole kingdoms, — mak ing misery and destruction the steps by which they mount up to their seats of pride ! O gentle doctrine of Christ ! — doctrine of love and of peace, when shall it be that I and all mankind
grave.
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 167
shall know thy truth, and the world smile with a new happi ness under thy life-giving reign !
Fausta, as she has wandered with us through this wilderness of woe, has uttered scarce a word. This appalling and afflicting sight of her beloved Palmyra — her pride and hope, in whose glory her very life was wrapped up — so soon become a black ened heap of ruins ; its power departed ; its busy multitudes dead, and their dwellings empty or consumed, — has deprived her of all but tears. She has only wept. The sensibility which she feared was dead, she finds endued with life enough, — with too much for either her peace or safety.
As soon as it became known in the neighboring districts that the army of Aurelian was withdrawn, and that the troops left in the camp and upon the walls were no longer commis sioned to destroy, they who had succeeded in effecting their escape, or who had early retreated from the scene of danger, began to venture back. These were accompanied by great numbers of the country people, who now poured in either to witness with their own eyes the great horror of the times, or to seek for the bodies of children or friends, who, dwelling in the city for the purposes of trade or labor, or as soldiers, had fallen in the common ruin. For many days might the streets and walls and ruins be seen covered with crowds of men and women who, weeping, sought among the piles of the yet unburied and decaying dead, dear relatives or friends or lovers, for whom they hoped to perform the last offices of unfailing affection, — a hope that was, perhaps, in scarce a single instance fulfilled. And how could any but those in whom love had swallowed up reason, once imagine that where the dead were heaped fathoms deep, mangled by every shocking mode of death, and now defaced yet more by the processes of corruption, they could identify the forms which they last saw beautiful in all the bloom of health ? But love is love ; it feels, but cannot reason.
Cerronius Bassus, the lieutenant of Aurelian, has with a humane violence laid hold upon this curious and gazing multi tude, and changed them all into buriers of the dead they came to seek and bewail.
And as if the sun, uttering a voice, were to say, " I liquefy and dry up," liquefaction and drying up being opposite things, he would not speak falsely as regards the point in question, wax being melted and mud being dried by the same heat ; so the same operation, which was performed through the instrumen tality of Moses, proved the hardness of Pharaoh on the one hand, the result of his wickedness, and the yielding of the mixed Egyptian multitude who took their departure with the Hebrews. And the brief statement that the heart of Pharaoh was softened, as it were, when he said, " But ye shall not go far : ye will go a three days' journey and leave your wives,"
ON FREE WILL. 145
and anything else which he said, yielding little by little before the signs, proves that the wonders made some impression even upon him, but did not accomplish all [that they might]. Yet even this would not have happened, if that which is supposed by the many — the hardening of Pharaoh's heart — had been produced by God Himself. And it is not absurd to soften down such expressions agreeably to common usage ; for good masters often say to their slaves, when spoiled by their kind ness and forbearance, " I have made you bad, and I am to blame for offenses of such enormity. " For we must attend to the character and force of the phrase, and not argue sophis- tically, disregarding the meaning of the expression. Paul, accordingly, having examined these points clearly, says to the sinner : " Or despisest thou the riches of His goodness and forbearance and long-suffering, not knowing that the good ness of God leadeth thee to repentance? but, after thy hard ness and impenitent heart, treasurest up unto thyself wrath against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God. " Now, let what the apostle says to the sinner be addressed to Pharaoh, and then the announcements made to him will be understood to have been made with peculiar fitness, as to one who, according to his hardness and unrepentant heart, was treasuring up to himself wrath ; see ing that his hardness would not have been proved nor made manifest unless miracles had been performed, and miracles, too, of such magnitude and importance.
But since such narratives are slow to secure assent and are considered to be forced, let us see from the prophetical decla rations also what those persons say who, although they have experienced the great kindness of God, have not lived virtu ously, but have afterwards sinned. " Why, O Lord, hast Thou made us to err from Thy ways? Why hast Thou hardened our heart so as not to fear Thy name? Return for Thy serv ants' sake, for the tribes of Thine inheritance, that we may inherit"a small portion of Thy holy mountain. " And in Jere miah, Thou hast deceived me, O Lord, and I was deceived ; Thou wert strong and Thou didst prevail. " For the expres sion, "Why hast Thou hardened our heart so as not to fear Thy name? " uttered by those who"are begging to receive mercy, is in its nature as follows : Why hast Thou spared us so long, not visiting us because of our sins, but deserting
us, until our transgressions come to a height? " Now He VOL. tii. — 10
146 ON FREE WILL.
leaves the greater part of men unpunished, both in order that the habits of each one may be examined, so far as it depends upon ourselves, and that the virtuous may be made manifest in consequence of the test applied, while the others, not escaping notice from God, — for He knows all things before they exist, — but, from the rational creation and them selves, may afterwards obtain the means of cure, seeing they would not have known the benefit had they not condemned themselves. It is of advantage to each one that he perceive his own peculiar nature and the grace of God. For he who does not perceive his own weakness and the divine favor, although he receive a benefit, yet, not having made trial of himself nor having condemned himself, will imagine that the benefit conferred upon him by the grace of Heaven is his own doing. And this imagination, producing also vanity, will be the cause of a downfall, which, we conceive, was the case with the devil, who attributed to himself the " priority which he possessed when in a state of sinlessness. For every one that exalteth himself shall be abased," and "every one that humbleth himself shall be exalted. " And observe that for this reason divine things have been concealed from the wise and prudent, in order, as says the apostle, that "no flesh should glory in the presence of God " ; and they have been revealed to babes, to those who after childhood have come to better things, and who remember that it is not so much from their own effort as by the unspeakable goodness [of God] that they have reached the greatest possible extent of blessedness.
It is not without reason, then, that he who is abandoned is abandoned to the divine judgment, and that God is long- suffering with certain sinners, but because it will be for their advantage, with respect to the immortality of the soul and the unending world, that they be not quickly brought into a state of salvation, but be conducted to it more slowly, after having experienced many evils. For as physicians who are able to cure a man quickly, when they suspect that a hidden poison exists in the body, do the reverse of healing, making this more certain through their very desire to heal, deeming it better for a considerable time to retain the patient under inflammation and sickness, in order that he may recover his health more surely, than to appear to produce a rapid recovery, and afterwards to cause a relapse, and thus that hasty cure last only for a time. In the same way, God also, who knows
TO THE MARTYRS. 147
the secret things of the heart and foresees future events, in His long-suffering, permits [certain events to occur], and, by means of those things which happen from without, extracts the secret evil, in order to cleanse him who through careless ness has received the seeds of sin, that having vomited them forth when they come to the surface, although he may have been deeply involved in evils, he may afterwards obtain heal ing after his wickedness and be renewed. For God governs souls not with reference, let me say, to the fifty years of the present life, but with reference to an illimitable age.
TO THE MARTYRS. By TERTULLIAN.
[Quintus Septimics Florjsns Tkrtuixianus, "the earliest and next to Augustine the greatest of the Church writers of the West, the creator of Chris tian Latin literature," was born at Carthage of a superior pagan family, about a. d. 150, and highly educated, being very learned in philosophy, history, and law ; went to Rome and was held one of its leading jurists, and wrote legal treatises. Converted in middle age, he returned to Carthage, married, and gave the rest of his life, first to fortifying Christianity against the various pagan schools ; second, to reconciling primitive Christianity with the new systems developed from the Scriptures and the new ecclesiastical forms ; finally, to opposing the conver sion of the Church into a political organization, which in the end led to his break ing with it altogether (about 207) and becoming the head of a "Montanist" community. The date of his death is uncertain. ]
Blessed Martyrs Designate, — Along with the provision which our lady mother the church from her bountiful breasts, and each brother out of his private means, makes for your bodily wants in the prison, accept also from me some contribu tion to your spiritual sustenance. For it is not good that the flesh be feasted and the spirit starve : nay, if that which is weak is carefully looked to, it is but right that that which is still weaker should not be neglected. Not that I am specially entitled to exhort you ; yet not only the trainers and overseers, but even the unskilled, nay, all who choose, without the slightest need for it, are wont to animate from afar by their cries the most accomplished gladiators, and from the mere throng of onlookers useful suggestions have sometimes come. First, then, O blessed, grieve not the Holy Spirit, who has entered the prison with you. For if He had not gone with you there, you would not have
148 TO THE MARTYRS.
been there this day. And do you give all endeavor therefore to retain Him ; so let Him lead you thence to your Lord. The prison, indeed, is the devil's house as well, wherein he keeps his family. But you have come within its walls for the very pur pose of trampling the wicked one under foot in his chosen abode. You had already in pitched battle outside utterly overcome him ; let him have no reason, then, to say to himself, " They are now in my domains ; with vile hatreds I shall tempt them, with defections or dissensions among themselves. " Let him fly from your presence, and skulk away into his own abysses, shrunken and torpid as though he were an outcharmed or outsmoked snake. Give him not the success in his own kingdom of setting you at variance with each other, but let him find you armed and fortified with concord; for peace among you is battle with him. You know that some, not able to find this peace in the church, have been used to seek it from the imprisoned martyrs. And so you ought to have it dwelling with you, and to cherish it, and to guard it, that you may be able perhaps to bestow it upon others.
Other things, hindrances equally of the soul, may have accompanied you as far as the prison gate, to which also your relatives may have attended you. There and thenceforth you were severed from the world ; how much more from the ordi nary course of worldly life and all its affairs ! Nor let this separation from the world alarm you. For if we reflect that the world is more really the prison, we shall see that you have gone out of a prison rather than into one. The world has the greater darkness, blinding men's hearts. The world im poses the more grievous fetters, binding men's very souls. The world breathes out the worst impurities — human lusts. The world contains the larger number of criminals, even the whole human race. Then, last of all, it awaits the judgment, not of the proconsul, but of God. Wherefore, O blessed, you may regard yourselves as having been translated from a prison to, we may say, a place of safety. It is full of darkness, but ye yourselves are light ; it has bonds, but God has made you free. Unpleasant exhalations are there, but ye are an odor of sweetness. The judge is daily looked for, but ye shall judge the judges them selves. Sadness may be there for him who sighs for the world's enjoyments. The Christian outside the prison has renounced
the world, but in the prison he has renounced a prison too. It is of no consequence where you are in the world — you who
TO THE MARTYRS. 149
are not of it. And if you have lost some of life's sweets, it is the way of business to suffer present loss, that after gains may be the larger. Thus far I say nothing of the rewards to which God invites the martyrs. Meanwhile let us compare the life of the world and of the prison, and see if the spirit does not gain more in the prison than the flesh loses. Nay, by the care of the church and the love of the brethren, even the flesh does not lose there what is for its good, while the spirit obtains besides important advantages. You have no occasion to look on strange gods, you do not run against their images; you have no part in heathen holidays, even by mere bodily mingling in them ; you are not annoyed by the foul fumes of idolatrous solemnities ; you are not pained by the noise of the public shows, nor by the atrocity or madness or immodesty of their celebrants ; your eyes do not fall on stews and brothels ; you are free from causes of offense, from temptations, from unholy reminiscences ; you are free now from persecution too. The prison does the same service for the Christians which the desert did for the prophet. Our Lord Himself spent much of His
time in seclusion, that He might have greater liberty to pray, that He might be quit of the world. It was in a mountain solitude, too, He showed His glory to His disciples. Let us drop the name of prison ; let us call it a place of retirement. Though the body is shut in, though the flesh is confined, all things are open to the spirit. In spirit, then, roam abroad ; in spirit walk about, not setting before you shady paths or long colonnades, but the way which leads to God. As often as in spirit your footsteps are there, so often you will not be in bonds. The leg does not feel the chain when the mind is in the heavens. The mind compasses the whole man about, and whither it wills it carries him. But where thy heart shall be, there shall be thy treasure. Be there our heart, then, where we would have our treasure.
Grant now, O blessed, that even to Christians the prison is unpleasant. But we were called to the warfare of the living God in our very response to the sacramental words. Well, no soldier comes out to the campaign laden with luxuries, nor does he go to action from his comfortable chamber, but from the light and narrow tent, where every kind of hardness and roughness and disagreeableness must be put up with. Even in peace soldiers inure themselves to war by toils and inconven iences —marching in arms, running over the plain, working
150 TO THE MARTYRS.
at the ditch, making the testudo, engaging in many arduous labors. The sweat of the brow is in everything, that bodies and minds may not shrink at having to pass from shade to sun shine, from sunshine to icy cold, from the robe of peace to the coat of mail, from silence to clamor, from quiet to tumult. In like manner, O blessed, count whatever is hard in this lot of yours as a discipline of your powers of mind and body. You are about to pass through a noble struggle, in which the living God acts the part of superintendent, in which the Holy Ghost is your trainer, in which the prize is an eternal crown of angelic essence, citizenship in the heavens, glory everlasting. Therefore your Master, Jesus Christ, who has anointed you with His Spirit, and led you forth to the arena, has seen it good, before the day of conflict, to take you from a condition more pleasant in itself, and imposed on you a harder treatment, that your strength might be the greater. For the athletes, too, are set apart to a more stringent discipline, that they may have their physical powers built up. They are kept from luxury, from daintier meats, from more pleasant drinks; they are pressed, racked, worn out ; the harder their labors in the preparatory training, the stronger is the hope of victory. " And they," says the apostle, " that they may obtain a cor ruptible crown. " We, with the crown eternal in our eye, look upon the prison as our training ground, that at the goal of final judgment we may be brought forth well disciplined by many a trial ; since virtue is built up by hardships, as by voluptuous indulgence it is overthrown.
From the saying of our Lord we know that the flesh is weak, the spirit willing. Let us not, withal, take delusive comfort from the Lord's acknowledgment of the weakness of the flesh. For precisely on this account He first declared the spirit willing, that He might show which of the two ought to be subject to the other — that the flesh might yield obedience to the spirit — the weaker to the stronger; the former thus from the latter getting strength. Let the spirit hold converse with the flesh about the common salvation, thinking no longer of the troubles of the prison, but of the wrestle and conflict for which they are the preparation. The flesh, perhaps, will dread the merciless sword, and the lofty cross, and the rage of the wild beasts, and that punishment of the flames, of all most terrible, and all the skill of the executioner in torture. But, on the other side, let the spirit set clearly forth before itself
TO THE MARTYRS. 151
and the flesh, how these things, though exceeding painful, have yet been calmly endured by many, — nay, have even been desired for the sake of fame and glory ; and this not only in the case of men, but of women too, that you, O holy women, may be worthy of your sex. It would take me too long to enumerate one by one the men who at their own self-impulse have put an end to themselves. As to women, there is a famous case at hand : the violated Lucretia, in the presence of her kinsfolk, plunged the knife into herself, that she might have glory for her chastity. Mucius burned his right hand on an altar, that this deed of his might dwell in fame. The philosophers have been outstripped, — for instance Heraclitus, who, smeared with cow dung, burned himself ; and Empedocles, who leapt down into the fires of Etna ; and Peregrinus, who not long ago threw himself on the funeral pile. For women even have despised the flames. Dido did so, lest, after the death of a husband very dear to her, she should be compelled to marry again; and so did the wife of Hasdrubal, who, Carthage now on fire, that she might not behold her husband suppliant at Scipio's feet, rushed with her children into the
in which her native city was destroyed. Regu- lus, a Roman general, who had been taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, declined to be exchanged for a large number of Carthaginian captives, choosing rather to be given back to the enemy. He was crammed into a sort of chest; and, every where pierced by nails driven from the outside, he endured so many crucifixions. Woman has voluntarily sought the wild beasts, and even asps, those serpents worse than bear or bull, which Cleopatra applied to herself, that she might not fall into the hands of her enemy. But the fear of death is not so great as the fear of torture. And so the Athenian courtesan suc cumbed to the executioner, when subjected to torture by the tyrant for having taken part in a conspiracy, still making no betrayal of her confederates, she at last bit off her tongue and spat it in the tyrant's face, that he might be convinced of the uselessness of his torments, however long they should be con tinued. Everybody knows what to this day is the great Lacedaemonian solemnity — the scourging; in which sacred rite the Spartan youths are beaten with scourges before the altar, their parents and kinsmen standing by and exhorting them to stand it bravely out. For it will be always counted more honorable and glorious that the soul rather than the
conflagration,
152 TO THE MARTYRS.
body has given itself to stripes. But if so high a value is put on the earthly glory, won by mental and bodily vigor, that men, for the praise of their fellows, I may say, despise the sword, the fire, the cross, the wild beasts, the torture ; these surely are but trifling sufferings to obtain a celestial glory and a divine reward. If the bit of glass is so precious, what must the true pearl be worth? Are we not called on, then, most joy fully to lay out as much for the true as others do for the false ?
I leave out of account now the motive of glory. All these same cruel and painful conflicts, a mere vanity you find among men — in fact, a sort of mental disease — has trampled under foot. How many ease-lovers does the conceit of arms give to the sword? They actually go down to meet the very wild beasts in vain ambition ; and they fancy themselves more win some from the bites and scars of the contest. Some have sold themselves to fires, to run a certain distance in a burning tunic. Others, with most enduring shoulders, have walked about under the hunters' whips. The Lord has given these things a place in the world, O blessed, not without some reason : for what reason, but now to animate us, and on that day to con found us if we have feared to suffer for the truth, that we might be saved, what others out of vanity have eagerly sought for to their ruin?
Passing, too, from examples of enduring constancy having such an origin as this, let us turn to a simple contemplation of man's estate in its ordinary conditions, that mayhap from things that happen to us whether we will or no, and which we must set our minds to bear, we may get instruction. How often then have fires consumed the living ! How often have wild beasts torn men in pieces, it may be in their own forests, or it may be in the heart of cities, when they have chanced to escape from their dens ! How many have fallen by the robber's sword ! How many have suffered at the hands of enemies the death of the cross, after having been tortured first, yes, and treated with every sort of contumely ! One may even suffer in the cause of a man what he hesitates to suffer in the cause of God. In reference to this, indeed, let the present times bear testimony, when so many persons of rank have met with death in a mere human being's cause, and that though from their birth and dignities and bodily condition and age such a fate seemed most unlikely ; either suffering at his hands if they have taken part against him, or from his enemies if they have been his partisans.
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 153
THE FALL OF PALMYRA, a. d. 272. By WILLIAM WARE.
(From "Zenobia. ")
[William Ware, an American clergyman and historical novelist, was born at Hingham, Mass. , August 3, 1797. He studied theology under his father's direction ; held pastorates of Unitarian churches in Brooklyn, Conn. , Burlington, Vt. , New York city (1821-1836), and in towns near Boston ; and retired from the ministry on account of failing health. He was the author of the popular historical novels : "Zenobia, ortheFallof Palmyra," "Aurelian," and "Julian. " Died at Cambridge, Mass. , February 19, 1852. ]
I write again from Palmyra.
We arrived here after a day's hard travel. The sensation occasioned by the unexpected return of Gracchus seemed to cause a temporary forgetfulness of their calamities on the part of the citizens. As we entered the city at the close of the day, and they recognized their venerated friend, there were no bounds to the tumultuous expressions of their joy. The whole city was abroad. It were hard to say whether Fausta herself was more pained by excess of pleasure, than was each citizen who thronged the streets as we made our triumphal entry.
A general amnesty of the past having been proclaimed by Sandarion immediately after the departure of Aurelian with the prisoners whom he chose to select, we found Calpurnius already returned. At Fausta's side he received us as we dis mounted in the palace yard. I need not tell you how we passed our first evening. Yet it was one of very mixed enjoy ment. Fausta's eye, as it dwelt upon the beloved form of her father, seemed to express unalloyed happiness. But then, again, as it was withdrawn at those moments when his voice kept not her attention fixed upon himself, she fell back upon the past and the lost, and the shadows of a deep sadness would gather over her. So, in truth, was it with us all ; especially when, at the urgency of the rest, I related to them the inter views I had had with Longinus, and described to them his behavior in the prison, and at the execution.
"I think," said Fausta, "that Aurelian, in the death of Longinus, has injured his fame far more than by the capture of Zenobia and the reduction of Palmyra he has added to it. Posterity will not readily forgive him for putting out, in its
154
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meridian blaze, the very brightest light of the age. It surely was an unnecessary act. "
" The destruction of prisoners, especially those of rank and influence, is," said I, " according to the savage usages of war ; and Aurelian defends the death of Longinus by saying that in becoming the first adviser of Zenobia, he was no longer Longi nus the philosopher, but Longinus the minister and rebel. "
" Fausta," said Gracchus, " you are right. And had Aure lian been any more or higher than a soldier, he would not have dared to encounter the odium of the act ; but in simple truth he was, I suppose, and is utterly insensible to the crime he has committed, not against an individual or Palmyra, but against the civilized world and posterity, — a crime that will grow in its magnitude as time rolls on, and will forever, and to the remotest times, blast the fame and the name of him who did it. Longinus belonged to all times and people, and by them will be avenged. Aurelian could not understand the greatness of his victim, and was ignorant that he was drawing upon himself a reproach greater than if he had sacrificed in his fury the queen herself and half the inhabitants of Palmyra. He will find it out when he reaches Rome. He will find himself as notorious there, as the murderer of Longinus, as he will be as conqueror of the East. "
" That will be held," she replied, " as a poor piece of soph istry. He was still Longinus, and in killing Longinus the minister, he basely slew Longinus the renowned philosopher, the accomplished scholar, the man of letters and of taste, the greatest man of the age, — for you will not say that either in Rome or Greece there now lives his equal. "
"There was one sentiment of Aurelian," I said, "which he expressed to me when I urged upon him the sparing of Lon ginus, to which you must allow some greatness to attach. I had said to him that it was greater to pardon than to punish, and that for that reason 'Ah ! ' he replied, interrupting me, ' I may not gain to myself the fame of magnanimity at the ex pense of Rome. As the chief enemy of Rome in this rebellion, Rome requires his punishment, and Rome is the party to be satisfied, not I. '"
"I grant that there is greatness in the sentiment. If he was sincere, all we can say is that he misjudged in supposing that Rome needed the sacrifice. She needed it not. There were enough heads like mine, of less worth, that would do for the soldiers, — for they are Rome in Aurelian's vocabulary. "
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" Men of humanity and of letters," I replied, " will, I sup pose, decide upon this question one way, politicians and soldiers another. "
" That, I believe," rejoined Gracchus, " is nearly the truth. "
Then, wearied by a prolonged conversation, we sought the repose of our pillows, each one of us happier by a large and overflowing measure, than but two days before we had ever thought to be again.
The city is to all appearance tranquil and acquiescent under its bitter chastisement. The outward aspect is calm and peace ful. The gates are thrown open, and the merchants and traders are returning to the pursuits of traffic ; the gentry and nobles are engaged in refitting and reembellishing their rifled palaces ; and the common people have returned in quiet to the several channels of their industry.
I have made, however, some observations which lead me to believe that all is not so settled and secure as it seems to be, and that however the greater proportion of the citizens are content to sit down patiently under the rule of their new mas ters, others are not of their mind. I can perceive that Antio- chus, who, under the general pardon proclaimed by Sandarion, has returned to the city, is the central point of a good deal of interest among a certain class of citizens. He is again at the head of the same licentious and desperate crew as before, — a set of men, like himself, large in their resources, lawless in their lives, and daring in the pursuit of whatever object they set before them. To one who knows the men, their habits and manners, it is not difficult to see that they are engaged in other plans than appear upon the surface. Yet are their movements so quietly ordered as to occasion no general observation or re mark.
Sandarion, ignorant whence danger might be expected to arise, appears not to indulge suspicions of one or another. Indeed, from the smallness of the garrison, from the whole manner both of the governor and those who are under him, soldiers and others, it is evident that no thought of a rising on the part of the populace has entered their minds.
A few days have passed, and Gracchus and Fausta, who in clined not to give much heed to my observations, both think with me; indeed, to Gracchus communication has been made of the existence of a plot to rescue the city from the hands of Rome, in which he has been solicited to join.
156 THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
Antiochus himself has sought and obtained an interview with Gracchus.
Gracchus has not hesitated to reject all overtures from that quarter. We thus learn that the most desperate measures are
in agitation, — weak and preposterous, too, as they are desper ate, and must in the end prove ruinous. Antiochus, we doubt not, is a tool in the hands of others ; but he stands out as the head and center of the conspiracy. There is a violent and a strong party, consisting chiefly of the disbanded soldiers, but of some drawn from every class of the inhabitants, whose ob ject is, by a sudden attack, to snatch the city from the Roman garrison, and placing Antiochus on the throne, proclaim their independence again, and prepare themselves to maintain and defend it. They make use of Antiochus because of his connec tion with Zenobia, and the influence he would exert through that prejudice, and because of his sway over other families among the richest and most powerful, especially the two princes, Herennianus and Timolaus, and because of his foolhardiness. If they should fail, he, they imagine, will be the only or the chief sacrifice, and he can well be spared. If they succeed, it will be an easy matter afterwards to dispose of him, if his character or measures as their king should displease them, and exalt some other and worthier in his room.
"I told him," replied Gracchus, "what I thought, — that the plan struck me not only as frantic and wild, but foolish ; that I for myself should engage in no plot of any kind, having in view any similar object, much less in such a one as he pro posed. I told him that if Palmyra was destined ever to assert its supremacy and independence of Rome, it could not be for many years to come, and then by watching for some favorable juncture in the affairs of Rome in other parts of the world. It might very well happen, I thought, that in the process of years, and when Palmyra had wholly recruited her strength after her late and extreme sufferings, there might occur some period of revolution or inward commotion in the Roman empire, such as would leave her remote provinces in a comparatively unpro tected state. Then would be the time for reasserting our
independence ; then we might spring upon our keepers with some good prospect of overpowering them, and taking again to ourselves our own government. But now, I tried to convince him, it was utter madness, or worse, stupidity, to dream of sue
" And what, father," said Fausta, " said you to Antiochus ? "
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 157
cess in such an enterprise. The Romans were already inflamed and angry, not half appeased by the bloody offering that had just been made ; their strength was undiminished, — for what could diminish the strength of Rome, — and a rising could no sooner take place, than her legions would again be upon us, and our sufferings might be greater than ever. I entreated him to pause, and to dissuade those from action who were connected with him. I did not hesitate to set before him a lively picture of his own hazard in the affair, — that he, if failure ensued,
I held this number to be, had no right to endanger, by any selfish and besotted conduct, the general welfare, the lives and prop
would be the first victim. I urged, moreover, that a few, as
erty of the citizens ; that not till he felt he had the voice of the people with him, ought he to dare to act ; and that although I should not betray his counsels to Sandarion, I should to the people, unless I received from him ample assurance that no move ment should be made without a full disclosure of the project to all the principal citizens, as representatives of the whole city. "
" And how took he all that ? " we asked.
"He was evidently troubled at the vision I raised of his own head borne aloft upon a Roman pike, and not a little dis concerted at what I labored to convince him were the rights of us all in the case. I obtained from him in the end a solemn promise that he would communicate what I had said to his companions, and that they would forbear all action till they had first obtained the concurrence of the greater part of the city. I assured him, however, that in no case, and under no conceivable circumstances, could he or any calculate upon any cooperation of mine. Upon any knowledge which I might obtain of intended action, I should withdraw from the city. "
"It is a sad fate," said Fausta, "that having just escaped with our lives and the bare walls of our city and dwellings from the Romans, we are now to become the prey of a wicked faction among ourselves. But, can you trust the word of Antiochus that he will give you timely notice if they go on to prosecute the affair? Will they not now work in secret all the more, and veil themselves even from the scrutiny of citizens ? "
" I hardly think they can escape the watchful eyes that will be fixed upon them," replied Gracchus ; " nor do I believe that, however inclined Antiochus might be to deceive me, those who are of his party would agree to such baseness. There are honorable men, however deluded, in his company. "
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THE PALL OF PALMYRA.
Several days have passed, and our fears are almost laid. Antiochus and the princes have been seen as usual frequenting the more public streets, lounging in the Portico, or at the places of amusement. — And the evenings have been devoted to gayety and pleasure, Sandarion himself, and the officers of his legion, being frequent visitors at the palace of Antiochus, and at that of the Caesars, lately the palace of Zenobia.
During this interval we have celebrated, with all becoming rites, the marriage of Fausta and Calpurnius, hastened at the urgency of Gracchus, who, feeling still very insecure of life, and doubtful of the continued tranquillity of the city, wished to bestow upon Calpurnius the rights of a husband, and to secure to Fausta the protection of one. Gracchus seems happier and lighter of heart since this has been done, — so do we all. It was an occasion of joy, but as much of tears also. An event which we had hoped to have been graced by the presence of Zenobia, Julia, and Longinus, took place almost in solitude and silence. But of this I have written fully to Portia.
That which we have apprehended has happened. The blow has been struck, and Palmyra is again, in name at least, free and independent.
Early on the morning after the marriage of Fausta, we were alarmed by the sounds of strife and commotion in the streets, — by the cries of those who pursued, and of those who fled and fought. It was as yet hardly light. But it was not difficult to know the cause of the uproar or the parties engaged. We seized our arms, and prepared ourselves for defense, against whatever party, Roman or Palmyrene, should make an assault. The preparation was, however, needless, for the contest was al ready decided. The whole garrison, with the brave Sandarion at their head, has been massacred, and the power of Palmyra is in the hands of Antiochus and his adherents. There has been in truth no fighting, it has been the murder rather of unprepared and defenseless men. The garrison was cut off in detail while upon their watch, by overwhelming numbers. Sandarion was dispatched in his quarters, and in his bed, by the very inhuman wretches at whose tables he had just been feasted, from whom he had but a few hours before parted,
giving and receiving the signs of friendship. The cowardly Antiochus it was who stabbed him as he sprang from his sleep, encumbered and disabled by his night clothes. Not a Roman has escaped with his life.
THE FALL OF PALMYRA. 159
Antiochus is proclaimed king, and the streets of the city have resounded with the shouts of this deluded people, crying, " Long live Antiochus 1 " He has been borne in tumult to the great portico of the Temple of the Sun, where, with the ceremonies prescribed for the occasion, he has been crowned king of Palmyra and of the East. —
While these things were in progress,
ing upon his authority, and the government forming itself, — Gracchus chose and acted his part.
" There is little safety," he said, " for me now, I fear, any where, — but least of all here. But were I secure of life, Pal myra is now a desecrated and polluted place, and I would fain depart from it. I could not remain in it, though covered with honor, to see Antiochus in the seat of Zenobia, and Critias in the chair of Longinus. I must go, as I respect myself, and as I desire life. Antiochus will bear me no good will ; and no sooner will he have become easy in his seat and secure of his power, than he will begin the work for which his nature alone fits him, of cold-blooded revenge, cruelty, and lust. I trust indeed that his reign will end before that day shall arrive ; but it may not, and it will be best for me and for you, my chil dren, to remove from his sight. If he sees us not, he may forget us. "
We all gladly assented to the plan which he then proposed. It was to withdraw as privately as possible to one of his estates in the neighborhood of the city, and there await the unfolding of the scenes that remained yet to be enacted. The plan was at once carried into effect. The estate to which we retreated was about four Roman miles from the walls, situated upon an eminence, and overlooking the city and the surrounding plains. Soon as the shadows of the evening of the first day of the reign of Antiochus had fallen, we departed from Palmyra, and within an hour found ourselves upon a spot as wild and secluded as if it had been within the bosom of a wilderness. The build ing consists of a square tower of stone, large and lofty, built originally for purposes of war and defense, but now long oc cupied by those who have pursued the peaceful labors of hus bandry. The wildness of the region, the solitariness of the place, the dark and frowning aspect of the impregnable tower, had pleased the fancy of both Gracchus and Fausta, and it has been used by them as an occasional retreat at those times when, wearied of the sound and sight of life, they have needed per
the new king enter
160 THE FALL OF FALMYRA.
feet repose. A few slaves are all that are required to constitute a sufficient household.
Here, Curtius, notwithstanding the troubled aspect of the times, have we passed a few days of no moderate enjoyment. Had there been no other, it would have been enough to sit and witness the happiness of Calpurnius and Fausta. But there have been and are other sources of satisfaction, as you will not doubt. We have now leisure to converse at such length as we please upon a thousand subjects which interest us. Seated upon the rocks at nightfall, or upon the lofty battlements of the tower, or at hot noon reclining beneath the shade of the terebinth or palm, we have tasted once again the calm delights we experienced at the queen's mountain palace. In this man ner have we heard from Calpurnius accounts every way instruc tive and entertaining of his life while in Persia ; of the character and acts of Sapor ; of the condition of that empire, and its wide spread population. Nothing seems to have escaped his notice and investigation. At these times and places too, do I amuse and enlighten the circle around me by reading such portions of your letters and of Portia's as relate to matters generally inter esting ; and thus too do we discuss the times, and speculate upon the events with which the future labors in relation to Palmyra.
In the mean time we learn that the city is given up to fes tivity and excess. Antiochus, himself possessing immense riches, is devoting these, and whatever the treasury of the kingdom places within his reach, to the entertainment of the people with shows and games after the Roman fashion, and seems really to have deluded the mass of the people so far as to have convinced them that their ancient prosperity has re turned, and that he is the father of their country, a second Odenatus. He has succeeded in giving to his betrayal of the queen the character and merit of a patriotic act, at least with the creatures who uphold him ; and there are no praises so false and gross that they are not heaped upon him, and imposed upon the people in proclamations and edicts. The ignorant — and where is it that they are not the greater part ? — stand by, wonder, and believe. They cannot penetrate the wickedness of the game that has been played before them, and by the arts of the king and his minions have already been converted into friends and supporters.
The defense of the city is not, we understand, wholly
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161
neglected. But having before their eyes some fear of retribu tion, troops are again levied and organized, and the walls beginning to be put into a state of preparation. But this is all of secondary interest, and is postponed to any object of more immediate and sensual gratification.
But there are large numbers of the late queen's truest friends who with Gracchus look on in grief, and terror even, at the order of things that has arisen, and prophesying with him a speedy end to it, either from interior and domestic revolu tion, or a return of the Roman armies, accompanied in either case of course by a widespread destruction, have with him also secretly withdrawn from the city, and fled either to some neighboring territory, or retreated to the fastnesses of the rural districts. Gracchus has not ceased to warn all whom he knows and chiefly esteems of the dangers to be apprehended, and urge upon them the duty of a timely escape.
Messengers have arrived from Antiochus to Gracchus, with whom they have held long and earnest conference, the object of which has been to induce him to return to the city, and resume his place at the head of the senate, the king well know ing that no act of his would so much strengthen his power as to be able to number Gracchus among his friends. But Grac chus has not so much as wavered in his purpose to keep aloof from Antiochus and all concern with his affairs. His contempt and abhorrence of the king would not however, he says, prevent his serving his country, were he not persuaded that in so short a time violence of some sort from without or within would pros trate king and government in the dust.
It was only a few days after the messengers from Antiochus had paid their visit to Gracchus, that as we were seated upon a shady rock not far from the tower, listening to Fausta as she read to us, we were alarmed by the sudden irruption of Milo upon our seclusion, breathless, except that he could just exclaim, " The Romans ! the Romans ! " As soon as he could command his speech, he said that the Roman army could plainly be dis cerned from the higher points of the land, rapidly approach ing the city, of which we might satisfy ourselves by ascending the tower.
" Gods ! can it be possible," exclaimed Gracchus, " that Aurelian can himself have returned ? He must have been well on his way to the Hellespont ere the conspiracy broke out. "
" I can easily believe it," I replied, as we hastened toward VOL. VII. —11
162 THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
the old tower, " from what I have known and witnessed of the promptness and miraculous celerity of his movements. "
As we came forth upon the battlements of the t^wer, not a doubt remained that it was indeed the Romans pouring in again like a flood upon the plains of the now devoted city. Far as the eye could reach to the west, clouds of dust indicated the line of the Roman march, while the van was already within a mile of the very gates. The roads leading to the capital, in every direction, seemed covered with those who, at the last moment, ere the gates were shut, had fled and were flying to escape the impending desolation. All bore the appearance of a city taken by surprise and utterly unprepared, — as we doubted not was the case from what we had observed of its actual state, and from the suddenness of Aurelian's return and approach.
" Now," said Fausta, " I can believe that the last days of Palmyra have arrived. It is impossible that Antiochus can sustain the siege against what will now be the tenfold fury of Aurelian and his enraged soldiers. "
A very few days will suffice for its reduction, if long before it be not again betrayed into the power of the assailants.
We have watched with intense curiosity and anxiety the scene that has been performing before our eyes. We are not so remote but what we can see with considerable distinctness what ever takes place, sometimes advancing and choosing our point of observation upon some nearer eminence.
After one day of preparation, and one of assault, the city has fallen, and Aurelian again entered in triumph, — this time in the spirit of revenge and retaliation. It is evident, as we look on horror-struck, that no quarter is given, but that a gen eral massacre has been ordered, both of soldier and citizen. We can behold whole herds of the defenseless populace escaping from the gates or over the walls, only to be pursued, hunted, and slaughtered by the remorseless soldiers. And thousands upon thousands have we seen driven over the walls, or hurled from the battlements of the lofty towers, to perish, dashed upon the rocks below. Fausta cannot endure these sights of horror, but retires and hides herself in her apartments.
No sooner had the evening of this fatal day set in, than a new scene of terrific sublimity opened before us, as we beheld flames beginning to ascend from every part of the city. They grew and spread till they presently appeared to wrap all objects alike in one vast sheet of fire. Towers, pinnacles, and domes,
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after glittering awhile in the fierce blaze, one after another fell and disappeared in the general ruin. The Temple of the Sun stood long untouched, shining almost with the brightness of the sun itself, its polished shafts and sides reflecting the sur rounding fire with an intense brilliancy. We hoped that it might escape, and were certain that it would, unless fired from within, — as from its insulated position the flames from the neighboring buildings could not reach it. But we watched not long ere from its western extremity the fire broke forth, and warned us that that peerless monument of human genius, like all else, would soon crumble to the ground. To our amaze ment, however, and joy, the flames, after having made great progress, were suddenly arrested, and by some cause extin guished ; and the vast pile stood towering in the center of the desolation, of double size, as it seemed, from the fall and disap pearance of so many of the surrounding structures.
" This," said Fausta, " is the act of a rash and passionate man. Aurelian, before to-morrow's sun has set, will himself repent it. What a single night has destroyed, a century could not restore. This blighted and ruined capital, as long as its crumbling remains shall attract the gaze of the traveler, will utter a blasting malediction upon the name and memory of Aurelian. Hereafter he will be known, not as conqueror of the East, and the restorer of the Roman empire, but as the executioner of Longinus and the ruthless destroyer of Pal myra. "
" I fear that you prophesy with too much truth," I replied. " Rage and revenge have ruled the hour, and have committed horrors which no reason and no policy, either of the present or of any age, will justify. "
" It is a result ever to be expected," said Gracchus, " so long as mankind will prefer an ignorant, unlettered soldier as their ruler. They can look for nothing different from one whose ideas have been formed by the camp alone, — whose vulgar mind has never been illuminated by study and the knowledge of antiq uity. Such a one feels no reverence for the arts, for learning, for philosophy, or for man as man ; he knows not what these mean ; power is all he can comprehend, and all he worships. As long as the army furnishes Rome with her emperors, so long may she know that her name will, by acts like these, be handed down to posterity covered with the infamy that belongs to the polished savage, the civilized barbarian. Come, Fausta, let us now in
164 THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
and hide ourselves from this sight, too sad and sorrowful to gaze upon. "
" I can look now, father, without emotion," she replied ; " a little sorrow opens all the fountains of grief, too much seals them. I have wept till I can weep no more. My sensibility is, I believe, by this succession of calamities, dulled till it is dead. "
Aurelian, we learn, long before the fire had completed its work of destruction, recalled the orders he had given, and labored to arrest the progress of the flames. In this he to a considerable extent succeeded, and it was owing to this that the great temple was saved, and others among the most costly and beautiful structures.
On the third day after the capture of the city and the massacre of the inhabitants, the army of the "conqueror and destroyer " withdrew from the scene of its glory, and again dis appeared beyond the desert. I sought not the presence of Aurelian while before the city ; for I cared not to meet him drenched in the blood of women and children. But as soon as he and his legions were departed, we turned toward the city, as children to visit the dead body of a parent.
No language which I can use, my Curtius, can give you any just conception of the horrors which met our view on the way to the walls, and in the city itself. For more than a mile be fore we reached the gates, the roads, and the fields on either hand, were strewed with the bodies of those who, in their at tempts to escape, had been overtaken by the enemy and slain. Many a group of bodies did we notice, evidently those of a family, the parents and the children, who, hoping to reach in company some place of security, had all — and without resist ance apparently — fallen a sacrifice to the relentless fury of their pursuers. Immediately in the vicinity of the walls, and under them, the earth was concealed from the eye by the multi tudes of the slain, and all objects were stained with the one hue of blood. Upon passing the gates, and entering within those walls which I had been accustomed to regard as embracing in their wide and graceful sweep the most beautiful city of the world, my eye met naught but black and smoking ruins, fallen houses and temples, the streets choked with piles of still blazing timbers and the half-burned bodies of the dead. As I pene trated farther into the heart of the city, and to its better-built and more spacious quarters, I found the destruction to be less,
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— that the principal streets were standing, and many of the more distinguished structures. But everywhere, —in the
streets, upon the porticoes of private and public dwellings, upon the steps and within the very walls of the temples of every faith, — in all places, the most sacred as well as the most com mon, lay the mangled carcasses of the wretched inhabitants. None, apparently, had been spared. The aged were there, with their bald or silvered heads, little children and infants, women, the young, the beautiful, the good, — all were there, slaughtered in every imaginable way, and presenting to the eye spectacles of horror and of grief enough to break the heart and craze the brain. For one could not but go back to the day and the hour when they died, and suffer with these innocent thousands a part of what they suffered, when, the gates of the city giving way, the infuriated soldiery poured in, and with death written in their faces and clamoring on their tongues, their quiet houses were invaded, and, resisting or unresisting, they all fell to gether beneath the murderous knives of the savage foe. What shrieks then rent and filled the air ; what prayers of agony went up to the gods for life to those whose ears on mercy's side were adders'; what piercing supplications that life might be taken and honor spared ! The apartments of the rich and the noble presented the most harrowing spectacles, where the inmates, delicately nurtured, and knowing of danger, evil, and wrong only by name and report, had first endured all that nature most abhors, and then there, where their souls had died, were slain by their brutal violators with every circum stance of most demoniac cruelty. Happy for those, who, like Gracchus, foresaw the tempest and fled. These calamities have fallen chiefly upon the adherents of Antiochus ; but among them, alas ! were some of the noblest and most honored families of the capital. Their bodies now lie blackened and bloated upon their doorstones ; their own halls have become their tombs.
We sought together the house of Gracchus. We found it partly consumed, partly standing and uninjured. The offices and one of the rear wings were burned and level with the ground, but there the flames had been arrested, and the re mainder, comprising all the principal apartments, stands as it stood before. The palace of Zenobia has escaped without harm ; its lofty walls and insulated position were its protection. The Long Portico, with its columns, monuments, and inscriptions,
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THE FALL OF PALMYRA.
remains also untouched by the flames, and unprofaned by any violence from the wanton soldiery. The fire has fed upon the poorer quarters of the city, where the buildings were composed in greater proportion of wood, and spared most of the great thoroughfares, principal avenues, and squares of the capital, which, being constructed in the most solid manner of stone, resisted effectually all progress of the flames ; and though fre quently set on fire for the purpose of their destruction, the fire perished from a want of material, or it consumed but the single edifice where it was kindled.
The silence of death and of ruin rests over this once and but so lately populous city. As I stood upon a high point which overlooked a large extent of it, I could discern no signs of life except here and there a detachment of the Roman guard drag ging forth the bodies of the slaughtered citizens, and bearing them to be burned or buried. This whole people is extinct. In a single day these hundred thousands have found a common
Not one remains to bewail or bury the dead. Where are the anxious crowds, who, when their dwellings have been burned, eagerly rush in as the flames have spent themselves, to sorrow over their smoking altars, and pry with busy search among the hot ashes, if perchance they may yet rescue some lamented treasure, or bear away, at least, the bones of a parent or a child buried beneath the ruins ? They are not here. It is broad day, and the sun shines brightly ; but not a living form is seen lingering about these desolated streets and squares. Birds of prey are already hovering round, and alighting, with out apprehension of disturbance, wherever the banquet invites them ; and soon as the shadows of evening shall fall, the hyena of the desert will be here to gorge himself upon what they have left, having scented afar off upon the tainted breeze the fumes of the rich feast here spread for him. These Roman gravedig- gers from the legion of Bassus are alone upon the ground to contend with them for their prize. O miserable condition of humanity ! Why is it that to man have been given passions which he cannot tame, and which sink him below the brute? Why is it that a few ambitious are permitted by the Great Ruler, in the selfish pursuit of their own aggrandizement, to scatter in ruin, desolation, and death whole kingdoms, — mak ing misery and destruction the steps by which they mount up to their seats of pride ! O gentle doctrine of Christ ! — doctrine of love and of peace, when shall it be that I and all mankind
grave.
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shall know thy truth, and the world smile with a new happi ness under thy life-giving reign !
Fausta, as she has wandered with us through this wilderness of woe, has uttered scarce a word. This appalling and afflicting sight of her beloved Palmyra — her pride and hope, in whose glory her very life was wrapped up — so soon become a black ened heap of ruins ; its power departed ; its busy multitudes dead, and their dwellings empty or consumed, — has deprived her of all but tears. She has only wept. The sensibility which she feared was dead, she finds endued with life enough, — with too much for either her peace or safety.
As soon as it became known in the neighboring districts that the army of Aurelian was withdrawn, and that the troops left in the camp and upon the walls were no longer commis sioned to destroy, they who had succeeded in effecting their escape, or who had early retreated from the scene of danger, began to venture back. These were accompanied by great numbers of the country people, who now poured in either to witness with their own eyes the great horror of the times, or to seek for the bodies of children or friends, who, dwelling in the city for the purposes of trade or labor, or as soldiers, had fallen in the common ruin. For many days might the streets and walls and ruins be seen covered with crowds of men and women who, weeping, sought among the piles of the yet unburied and decaying dead, dear relatives or friends or lovers, for whom they hoped to perform the last offices of unfailing affection, — a hope that was, perhaps, in scarce a single instance fulfilled. And how could any but those in whom love had swallowed up reason, once imagine that where the dead were heaped fathoms deep, mangled by every shocking mode of death, and now defaced yet more by the processes of corruption, they could identify the forms which they last saw beautiful in all the bloom of health ? But love is love ; it feels, but cannot reason.
Cerronius Bassus, the lieutenant of Aurelian, has with a humane violence laid hold upon this curious and gazing multi tude, and changed them all into buriers of the dead they came to seek and bewail.
