Aurelian; or, Rome in the Third Century by William Ware (best color ebook reader .txt) 📖

or Livia, and learn from them the exact truth concerning the reports current through the city. But, giving way to that weakness which defers to the latest possible moment the confirmation of painful news, and the resolution of doubts which one would rather should remain as doubts than be determined the wrong way, in melancholy mood, I turned and retraced my steps. My melancholy was changed to serious apprehension by all that I observed and heard on my way to the Cœlian. As the crowd in this great avenue, the Suburra, pressed by me, it was easy to gather that the Christians had become the universal topic of conversation and dispute. The name of the unhappy Aurelia frequently caught my ear. Threatening and ferocious language dropt from many, who seemed glad that at length an Emperor had arisen who would prove faithful to the institutions of the country. I joined a little group of gazers before the window of the rooms of Periander, at which something rare and beautiful is always to be seen, who, I found, were looking intently at a picture, apparently just from the hands of the artist, which represented Rome under the form of a beautiful woman—Livia had served as the model—with a diadem upon her head, and the badges of kingly authority in[Pg 208] her hands, and at her side a priest of the Temple of Jupiter, "Greatest and Best", in whose face and form might plainly be traced the cruel features of Fronto. The world was around them. On the lowest earth, with dark shadows settling over them, lay scattered and broken, in dishonor and dust, the emblems of all the religions of the world, their temples fallen and in ruins. Among them, in the front ground of the picture, was the prostrate cross, shattered as if dashed from the church, whose dilapidated walls and wide-spread fragments bore testimony not so much to the wasting power of time as to the rude hand of popular violence; while, rearing themselves up into a higher atmosphere, the temples of the gods of Rome stood beautiful and perfect, bathed in the glowing light of a morning sun. The allegory was plain and obvious enough. There was little attractive, save the wonderful art with which it was done. This riveted the eye; and that being gained, the bitter and triumphant bigotry of the ideas set forth had time to make its way into the heart of the beholder, and help to change its warm blood to gall. Who but must be won by the form and countenance of the beautiful Livia? and, confounding Rome with her, be inspired with a new devotion to his country, and its religion, and its lovely queen? The work was inflaming and insidious, as it was beautiful. This was seen in what it drew from those among whom I stood.

'By Jupiter!' said one, 'that is well done. They are all down, who can deny it! Those are ruins not to be built up again. Who, I wonder, is the artist? He must be a Roman to the last drop of his blood, and the last hair of his beard.'[Pg 209]

'His name is Sporus,' replied his companion, 'as I hear, a kinsman of Fronto, the priest of Apollo.'

'Ah, that's the reason the priest figures here,' cried the first, 'and the Empress too; for they say nobody is more at the Gardens than Fronto. Well, he's just the man for his place. If any man can bring up the temples again, it's he. Religion is no sham at the Temple of the Sun. The priests are all what they pretend to be. Let others do so, and we shall have as much reason to thank the Emperor for what he has done for the gods—and so for us all—as for what he has done for the army, the empire, and the city.'

'You say well,' rejoined the other. 'He is for once a man, who, if he will, may make Rome what she was before the empire, a people that honored the gods. And this picture seems as if it spoke out his very plans, and I should not wonder if it were so.'

'Never doubt it. See, here lies a Temple of Isis flat enough; next to it one of the accursed tribe of Jews. And what ruder pile is that?'

'That must be a Temple of the British worship, as I think. But the best of all, is this Christian church: see how the wretches fly, while the work goes on! In my notion, this paints what we may soon see.'

'I believe it! The gods grant it so! Old men, in my judgment, will live to see it all acted out. Do you hear what is said? That Aurelian has put to death his own niece, the princess Aurelia?'

'That's likely enough,' said another, 'no one can doubt it. 'Tis easy news to believe in Rome. But the question is what for?'[Pg 210]

'For what else but for her impiety, and her aims to convert Mucapor to her own ways.'

'Well, there is no telling, and it's no great matter; time will show. Meanwhile, Aurelian forever! He's the man for me!'

'Truly is he,' said one at his side, who had not spoken before, 'for thy life is spent at the amphitheatres, and he is a good caterer for thee, sending in ample supplies of lions and men.'

'Whew! who is here? Take care! Your tongue, old man, has short space to wag in.'

'I am no Christian, knave, but I trust I am a man: and that is more than any can say of you, that know you. Out upon you for a savage!'

The little crowd burst into loud laughter at this, and with various abusive epithets moved away. The old man addressed himself to me, who alone remained as they withdrew,—

'Aurelian, I believe, would do well enough were he let alone. He is inclined to cruelty, I know: but nobody can deny that, cruel or not, he has wrought most beneficial changes both in the army and in the city. He has been in some sort, up to within the last half year, a censor, greater than Valerian; a reformer, greater and better than even he. Had he not been crazed by his successes in the East, and were he not now led, and driven, and maddened, by the whole priesthood of Rome, with the hell-born Fronto at their head, we might look for a new and a better Rome. But, as it is, I fear these young savages, who are just gone, will see all fulfilled they are praying for. A fair day to you.'

And he too turned away. Others were come into the[Pg 211] same spot, and for a long time did I listen to similar language. Many came, looked, said nothing, and took their way, with paler face, and head depressed, silent under the imprecations heaped upon the atheists, but manifestly either of their side in sympathy, or else of the very atheists themselves.

I now sought my home, tired of the streets, and of all I had seen and heard. Many of my acquaintance, and friends passed me on the way, in whose altered manner I could behold the same signs which, in ruder form, I had just seen at the window of Periander. Not, Fausta, that all my friends of the Roman faith are summer ones, but that, perhaps, most are. Many among them, though attached firmly as my mother to the existing institutions, are yet, like her, possessed of the common sentiments of humanity, and would venture much or all to divert the merest shadow of harm from my head. Among these, I still pass some of my pleasantest and most instructive hours—for with them the various questions involved in the whole subject of religion, are discussed with the most perfect freedom and mutual confidence. Varus, the prefect, whom I met among others, greeted me with unchanged courtesy. His sweetest smile was on his countenance as he swept by me, wishing me a happy day. How much more tolerable is the rude aversion, or loud reproaches of those I have told you of, than this honied suavity, that means nothing, and would be still the same though I were on the way to the block.

As I entered my library, Solon accosted me, to say, that there had been one lately there most urgent to see me. From his account, I could suppose it to be none[Pg 212] other than the Jew Isaac, who, Milo has informed me, is now returned to Rome, which he resorts to as his most permanent home. Solon said that, though assured I was not at home, he would not be kept back, but pressed on into the house, saying that 'these Roman nobles often sat quietly in their grand halls, while they were denied to their poor clients. Piso was an old acquaintance of his when in Palmyra, and he had somewhat of moment to communicate to him, and must see him.'

'No sooner,' said Solon, 'had he got into the library, the like of which, I may safely affirm, he had never seen before, for his raiment betokened a poor and ragged life, than he stood, and gazed as much at his ease as if it had been his own, and then, by Hercules! unbuttoning his pack, for he was burdened with one both before and behind, he threw his old limbs upon a couch, and began to survey the room! I could not but ask him, If he were the elder Piso, old Cneius Piso, come back from Persia, in Persian beard and gown?—'Old man,' said he, 'your brain is turned with many books, and the narrow life you lead here, shut out from the living world of man. One man is worth all the books ever writ, save those of Moses. Go out into the streets and read him, and your senses will come again. Cneius Piso! Take you me for a spirit? I am Isaac the Jew, citizen of the world, and dealer in more rarities and valuables than you ever saw or dreamed of. Shall I open my parcels for thee?' No, said I, I would not take thy poor gewgaws for a gift. One worm-eaten book is worth them all.—'God restore thy reason!' said he, 'and give thee wisdom before thou diest; and that, by thy wrinkles and hairless pate must be soon.' What more of false he would[Pg 213] have added I know not, for at that moment he sprang from where he sat like one suddenly mad, exclaiming, 'Holy Abraham! what do my eyes behold, or do they lie? Surely that is Moses! Never was he on Sinai, if his image be not here! Happy Piso! and happy Isaac to be the instrument of such grace! Who could have thought it? And yet many a time, in my dreams, have I beheld him, with a beard like mine, his hat on his head, his staff in his hand, as if standing at the table of the Passover, the princess with him, and—dreams will do such things—a brood of little chickens at their side. And now—save the last—it is all come to pass. And here, too, who may this be? who, but Aaron, the younger and milder! He was the speaker, and lo! his hand is stretched out! And this young Joseph is at his knee the better to interpret his character to the beholder. Moses and Aaron in the chief room of a Roman senator, and he, a Piso! Now, Isaac, thou mayest tie on thy pack, and take thy leave with a merry heart, for God, if never before, now accepteth thy works.' And much more, noble sir, in the same raving way, which was more dark to my understanding than the darkest pages of Aristotle.'

I gathered from Solon, that he would return in the evening in the hope to see me, for he had that to impart which concerned nearly my welfare.

I was watching with Julia, from the portico which fronts the Esquiline and overlooks the city, the last rays of the declining sun, as they gilded the roofs and domes of the vast sea of building before us, lingering last upon, and turning to gold the brazen statues of Antonine and[Pg 214] of Trajan, when Milo approached us, saying that Isaac had returned. He was in a moment more with us.

'Most noble Piso,' said he, 'I joy to see thee again; and this morning, I doubt not, I should have seen thee, but for the obstinacy of an ancient man, whose wits seem to have been left behind as he has gone onward. I seek thee, Piso, for matters of moment. Great princess,' he suddenly cried,