u, ;, LIBIA TALE OF THE SECOND CENTUI^Y, TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF HERRMAN GEIGER OF MUNICH. PHILADELPHIA: EUGENE CUMMISKEY, PUBLISHER, 1037 CHESTNUT STREET, 1867. FT INTRODUCTION. How beautiful to behold the silent dawn of morning, lighting up the solitary summits of the Glsetchers! Height after height begins to wear the first beams of the rising sun. While the bases of these mighty mountains are hidden from the. view by a thick veil of blue mist, naught appears but their lofty heads peeping, as it were, from amongst the clouds. A similar spectacle discloses itself to the eye of faith, when it casts a glance into the golden morning of Christianity, and discovers those gi- gantic heads surrounded by the brilliancy of the sun of Justice. An invigorating air wafts across from them to us, upon our remote point of view; we are astonished at the characters, firm as a rock, which raised them above their contemporaries, and imagine we hear the blood gushing from their hearts, and falling into the stream of the general martyrdom. This stream flowed on for three hundred years, and formed the boundaries between the heathen and the Christian world. Such a look as this did the writer of these pages cast into that golden age. vi INTRODUCTION. But as the succession of these great men stretches out like a lengthened chain of precious gems, he drew for his purpose a more confined perspective, and chose that period in which the Emperor Marcus Aurelius wielded the sceptre. This period embraces about twenty years, from A. D. 161 to 180 : the most renowned heroes of the Faith, which occur in this time, are St. Polycarp of Smyrna, the Philosopher Justin of Rome, and the Apostle of the south of Gaul, Bishop Pothinus. The martyrologies that mention these men, are, above all others that have come under our notice, the most to be relied on. The untiring Irenseus is a connecting link between the Eastern and Western Churches. Pope Soter in Rome, Dionysius of Corinth, and the learned Athena- goras, who, from a follower of the Grecian philosophy, became a disciple of Christ, lived also in the time of Marcus Aurelius. But in order to bring these professors of the Faith, who with respect to place are so widely separated from each other, into the same compass, it re- quires the personality of one whose trials were contempo- rary with the above-mentioned men, like the veil of mist that obscures the depths of the valley, and scatters itself round the foot of the mountain. This person is Lydia, an Eastern slave. Some difficulty occurred at the ques- tion, in which of the numerous cities of the then king- dom of the world the connecting points of the tale should lie. INTRODUCTION. vii Rome, the chief city of the immeasurable empire, would have been, above all others,' the one most suited, and it dares not be forgotten. But the seat of refinement and the asylum of worldly wisdom were to be found, at that time, neither in Rome nor in Italy, but in that once great city of Greece, Athens. In the time of the Anthonys, the imperial court at Rome so highly appreciated the Hellenish refinement, that the best teachers were called from Greece to instruct the heirs to the throne, and the higher schools. Every- thing that laid claim to refinement was from Greece, just as with us the French language has become the mother- tongue of high life. Marcus Aurelius was himself a dis- ciple of the Grecian school of philosophy, and wrote his "Maxims" in Greek. Herodes, Atticus, Demonax, Athenagoras, Aristides, Lucien, Pausanias, and other illustrious writers, we find in Athens at this time. For the propagation of Christianity, Greece was looked upon with as much importance as Italy: in the latter, politics had their seat, in the former, spiritual power; and for this reason, the princes of the apostles chose both these countries for their missionary labors. The courageous Peter ventured to remain in the imperial city, but the learned Paul journeyed to Greece. Therefore is Athens chosen as the scene of the incidents. The Hellenish worship may excite some interest, as it viii INTRODUCTION. explains itself in a heathen sense. There is a great chasm between Roman and Grecian paganism, and incomparably nobler were the religious views of the new Platonic schools than the coarse faith of the Romans. The re- searches of the Greek sages were not fruitless ; various as were their systems, they were at least all united in the same opinion, that the perception which the people of the earth then had of the Divinity, was unworthy of it. IL addition to this, the Grecian Mysteries, which could be traced as far back as to the primitive history of the people, preserved their ancient faith; and perhaps after this, it was the Eleusian mysteries that saved those rem- nants of past knowledge which may be looked upon with justice as a divine revelation. But apart from those most important mysteries, into which almost all those who had any pretensions to refinement were initiated, there flowed in the principal Greek towns another source, which as- sisted in altering the ideas of inferior paganism, and in showing in purity the image of the Divinity. There were not only communities of Jews at that time in Delos, Kos, Milet, and other islands, but their religion was practised in the great Corinth also ; and St. Paul found a synagogue even in Athens.* Who would therefore doubt, that just the most renowned Grecian thinkers and teachers of the people have not drawn from this source ? * Acts of the Apostles, xvii. 17. INTRODUCTION. ix All this philosophy then, this Judaism, and those mysteries, had worked together, in cutting off, piece by piece, this Anaconda of paganism, which bound up the Roman world, until that "Sun-clad Woman" stepped forth from the house of David, and for ever crushed the serpent's head. The most remarkable events of Marcus Aurelius' time have not been passed over, particularly the war against the people of the Danube, which for each descendant of the ancient Germans is of no small importance, and is circumstantially described ; whereby much of their ancient manners and customs, according to Tacitus, have been made known to us. It is now some years since Lydia began to tread the insecure path of publicity. In her wanderings she has been nowhere received with coldness; in many places greeted most warmly, and in all, treated with that con- sideration due to her sex. Unhappy, persecuted Poland gladly availed herself of her consoling presence, and looked upon her as a suffer- ing sister in the Faith. The maid, the wife, the mother, and the widow, have been alike instructed by her good example. The desolate and afflicted have found in her all they could desire ; for while her generous hand dis- pensed a temporal blessing, it was ever accompanied by a word of consolation and advice. PREFACE TO THE AMEEIOAN EDITION. IN this age of frivolous romance or indistinct piety, it is refreshing to fall upon a work filled with sound princi- ples and pleasurable development as the present volume. Lydia, in her historico-religious character, is of the class and family of Fabiola and Calista ; and though a younger, is not an unworthy or unseemly sister. A volume so interesting and instructive as that now presented to the American reader, is peculiarly beneficial : for it must be admitted, though numerous and influential as may be the members of the Catholic Church, that there still exists a prejudice and pressure from without that in no small degree prevents the vigor and growth of sound Christian principles. The temporal prosperity of the country, and the concomitant desire of appearing well be- fore the people, have introduced a spirit of extravagance and forgetfulness by no means favorable to religion. (M) xii PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. The blamelessness of the lives, and the acknowledged virtues of the early Christians, proved insufficient to pro- tect them against the strong prejudice of a jealous and unbelieving majority: and in the nineteenth, as in the second century of the Church, do we find, in too many instances, a lack of that firmness and moral courage which we so admire, but do not always practise. It would sound strangely, perhaps, to compare the un- just prejudices of the Grecian pagan of the second century with the misrepresentations of the nineteenth in our own midst; but this however may be understood, that now, as then, it requires the patience and charity of Lydia to con- quer the pride and worldly-mindedness of Metella. In the hope, then, of strengthening the faith, whilst it sustains the hope of the children of the Church, in their daily conflict with the outward world, this volume ia placed in the hands of the American reader, a reprint of the London edition of the present year. DECEHBEB, 1866. CHAPTER I. PA01 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE .,>>.. . . .17 CHAPTER II. THE EARTHQUAKE .... . . . . 30 CHAPTER III. METELLA .... .... 42 CHAPTER IV. THE TIROCINIUM .IvX .*vi L '>A. ; > . . 58 CHAPTER V. THE HAIR BODKIN . -:.: ;'i; . ... 68 CHAPTER VI. THE SACRIFICES IN THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER . . 79 CHAPTER VII. CHARACTERISTIC SKETCHES OF THE SLAVES AND THEIR MODE OF LIFE .... .;./.; . . 87 CHAPTER VIII. JUSTIN'S APOLOGIA ........;. . . . 95 xiii xiv CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. FAam THE SILVER MIEEOE ...... 104 CHAPTER X. NEWS FEOM THE SEAT OF CHAPTER XI. ATHENAGOEAS . . * . CHAPTER XII. THE COUNTEY SEAT AT ELEUSIS .... CHAPTER XIII. THE POTTEE AND HIS CHILD ..... CHAPTER XIV. SAD INTELLIGENCE ',;, ..,...- . . . CHAPTER XV. DlONYSIUS OF COEINTH . . CHAPTER XVI. THE CONVEESION ...... CHAPTER XVII. MARCUS AUEELIUS' CONQUEST OF THE MAECOMANNI 188 CHAPTER XVIII. LYDIA'S DEPAETUEE ....... 195 CHAPTER XIX. THE TEIUMPHAL PEOCESSION . . . . . . 207 .CHAPTER XX. LYDIA IN SEAECH OF HEE MOTHEE . 216 CONTENTS. xv CHAPTER XXI. 9UU SOLITUDE IN HOLY PLACES . .- . . 228 CHAPTEE XXII. IBEN2EUS . 235 CHAPTER XXIII. THE INVALID 246 CHAPTER XXIV. THE RETUEN 252 " CHAPTER XXV. THE CONCLUSION 268 LYDIA. CHAPTER I. THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. A.D. 165. HE confused cries and clamors of a throng- ing multitude fill the slave market of ancient Smyrna. In one part an over- seer screams himself hoarse upon the supe- rior qualities of his merchandise, whilst an- other of his caste beats poor children most unmercifully, and the sobs and winnings of these unhappy ones mingle with the imprecations of their castigator. Each one set up for sale, has a placard suspended from his neck, on which all his qualities afe written. On many of these can be seen the words, " Calligraphos " or " Pedagogos," because the wearer possesses the neces- sary acquirements for either a Tutor or a Teacher. The upper end of the market is occupied chiefly by Africans, 2* B (17) 18 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE from burning Lybia, with dark skin and woolly hair ; deplorable creatures ! their ears pierced, and their feet chalked, a sign that they have crossed the sea. Close to these, cooped up in laths and cords, are young ne- gresses, from the interior of Ethiopia, black as ebony. They seat themselves on a checkered carpet, crouching closely and anxiously together. Bread, fruit, and wine are placed before them, but few partake thereof, as they were told that those good things are merely given them for a time, to make them robust, that they may afford the gormandizing Romans a dainty meal. At the lower end, the eye falls upon entire herds of white slaves, from every known country under the sun. Amongst these are the emaciated Tsaurians, formerly pirates in the Mediterranean, looking most piteously. In striking contrast stands the athletic Cappadocian, proud of his race and stature ; frivolous and faithless, it is true, but, as his placard jestingly remarks, as the bearer of a litter, most useful, and as well beloved as the horses of his country. In the midst of this multitude of slaves, of Greeks richly apparelled, and of Romans eager for pur- chase, might be seen passing on, a modestly attired female, of noble bearing, but whose dress, that of a widow, bespeaks her of the middle class. Her scruti- nizing gaze lingers fong upon the youthful forms of the captive Christians, but she finds not whom she seeks, and wanders on by the nearest- way to the public prisons. "Shall I rejoice, or shall I complain/' sighed the afflicted one, " that I found her not amongst them, or whether, after six months, is she still in prison, or have they reserved her for the coming festival?" "Merciful God! THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 19 suffer not my child to be torn to pieces by wild beasts, amidst the jeers and scoffs of an applauding multitude ! " Agonized with such thoughts, Charitana reached the gates of the prison, knocked with trembling hand, and craved admittance. She informed the jailer, that she was in search of a daughter, named Seraphica, who, immediately after the execution of Polycarp, had been cast into prison ; and that for several months she had heard nothing of her fate. "Seraphica! the daughter of a purple-dye mer- chant?" growled the jailer, - " and one of the Christian Eeligion, and but seventeen years old ? Yes, you can see her in a few days : She will then celebrate her wedding on the feast of Mercury, with a young and beautiful panther ; the most cheerful Ethiopian that can be found." Pale as marble and trembling with horror, Charitana stood before the savage jailer, from whose scornful lips she had just heard the probable fate of her only child. "I see you have some fruit," continued he; "I'll place it before her at the feast already mentioned." " Unfeeling man, you mock me! Has icy death never torn from you a beloved child ? Have you never stood by the death-bed of one dear to you ? If not, you can never understand what I now suffer. Oh ! I conjure you to grant me this solitary consolation! Allow me to speak to Seraphica before she leaves the prison for the festival!" "Where is your purse?" asked the jailer. " If it be well filled, matters can be favorably managed." "No, heartless man, gold and silver have but sparingly fallen to my lot, but the laws of Eome, 20 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. which grant to the condemned a feast before death, are not so severe as to refuse a mother a last interview with her beloved child. "Were I to offer you the little money I possess, you would not be contented. But I remember now, I have a treasure a great treasure one I have inherited, and which can be divided between you and me, without decreasing. I can give you as much of it as your heart desires, as soon as you grant my petition." " Extraordinary promise," replied he. " What is the value of that treasure ? " " Of more value than this terrestrial orb, even were it of Diamond." The jailer's countenance brightened up. "In any case a great exaggeration," said he to himself. "Still it might be as valuable as a diamond." Then turning round, he seized upon his keys, and gave Charitana a sign to follow. They passed through long and vaulted corridors, where nothing broke the silence that reigned around, save the hollow echoes of their footsteps. At length they stood before a low and narrow door unlocked the bolts withdrawn and Charitana is in the presence of her daughter. O happy moment ! a sweeter in this place of sorrows none had ever known ! But silence ! Yonder sits the youthful captive not suspecting who is near. Her right arm is chained the left supports her head, and she is in a deep slumber. "Ah perhaps," murmured Chari- tana in a low voice, " thou already knowest what awaits thee in a few days ! Perhaps fearful visions are even now passing before thy weary eyes! Yet, no, those features speak not of fear; that countenance is as a THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 21 mirror reflecting interior peace and holy resignation." In her fettered hand, she loosely holds a girdle ; upon which she had evidently been ruminating ; and so had sunk to sleep. She drops the hand, and the girdle falls from her listless fingers. She moves smiles and holds converse with herself. "Yes, yes, never-to-be- forgotten Polycarp! Not on parchment, but on far nobler material have I written all thy words ! Poly- carp ! shall we meet again ? Soon ? it will be some time yet ! ' Until then let us have hope ever before us, and never lose the pledge of our. righteousness.' 1 " * Charitana having placed the fruit upon the ground, stood immovable before her dreaming child. But as soon as she heard the words " O it will be some time yet," she could no longer refrain from shedding a flood of tears. At length, in a subdued voice, she pronounced her daughter's name, " Seraphica ! do you know who is hera?" The young girl answered dreamingly and slowly, as though she felt obliged to reflect on every word. " Here ? Here are peace and solitude." "Seraphica, thy mother!" "Mother? No, she has fled ! " and sighing heavily, she dashes a tear from her pale cheek, and casts her half closed eyes on the girdle at her feet. Suddenly she perceives a form before her, she shudders and quick as lightning raises herself from the ground, and exclaiming, "God of all good- ness!" casts herself into her mother's arms. "Do I dream, or art thou really she, or art thou an angel who * These were the words of St. Polycarp to the Philippians. 22 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. visitest me? Wondrous! through closed doors in this gloomy dungeon ! " "Yes, dearest child, it is thy mother ! Life without thee seemed more painful than death itself. Six anxious months have I wandered through the mountains, where I found true and loving hearts ; one alone was wanting and that was thine. But now I will not leave thee until I know thy fate. " Since that dreadful day, thou hast been ever present to my mind. When I heard that thou wast seen in the Amphitheatre, oh what anguish did I not endure! Hour after hour passed on. My worst fears were veri- fied: I heard that thou wast taken prisoner." "Yes, mother," replied Seraphica, "though most unworthy, I have been chosen to suffer imprisonment and chains for the sake of my Redeemer. It was a dreadful day, yet one replete with blessings. " O hadst thou seen our venerable and saintly Poly- carp! Couldst thou but have gazed on those features of a hundred years, glowing with charity, peace, and simplicity I " Many feared that his great age would have rendered him unable to reach the place of martyrdom, with that heroic fortitude expected from one who had led a life so holy. But how groundless was that fear ! O mother, hadst thou but seen that saint in death ! " "Still, my child, I had the happiness to meet our holy Bishop in the suburbs of the city, a short time before. "He was driving in the chariot of Herodus, and Nicetas, his father, sat near him. Both were trying to induce him to call the Emperor the Most High God, and THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 23 to offer incense before his statue. But finding their entreaties vain, with savage fury they dashed the vener- able old man from the chariot, and his face, coming in violent contact with the pavement, was deeply wounded. He arose covered with blood, but proceeded on his way as joyous, as if he had suffered nothing. This was the last time I beheld him. "The sanctity of his life is ever present to my mind. I think I hear him still, relating the conversation he had had with St. John and others, who had seen our Lord, and all they had told him of His doctrine and miracles." "But, dearest mother, thou wast not witness of his last hours, of his farewell discourse. Thou didst not see him as he passed the bodies of young Germanicus and his companions, who were the first that suffered, and stood before Quadratus, who, in a voice of thunder, said to him, 'Swear by the fortune of the Emperor, despise Christ, and I promise thee thy freedom ! Swear! ' At this command the spectators pressed forward, in breathless expectation of his answer. Polycarp replied with a slow and solemn voice : "'Already six and eighty years have I served my Lord, and He has never yet done injury to me, but on the contrary, He is always heaping favors on me. How can I curse my King Him who has redeemed me? But knowest thou not of the future judgment and of that unquenchable fire, lighted by eternal justice, to torture the wicked?' The people burned with the desire of seeing the judicatory inquiry at an end. " They had already looked oh blood, and drunk from 24 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. it a new desire for murder. At this moment a voice was heard from one of the principal seats of the Amphi- theatre, 'Let wood be conveyed hither!' This was echoed by a thousand voices. 'Wood! Let wood be brought hither ! ' In a few moments a huge pile was erected. Quadratus gave the signal; and Polycarp, turning to his faithful followers, bestowed on them his last Benediction, unloosed his sandals, removed his girdle, and with a firm step ascended the pile ; a living testimony of the words of St. Paul : " ' Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or persecution, or the sword ? ' As it is written : ' For thy sake we are put to death all the day long : we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.' ' But in all things we overcome, because of Him that hath loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, neither things present, nor things to come ; nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Jesus Christ our Lord.' " As the executioner was in the act of binding him to the stake, he said in a low voice: 'This precaution is unnecessary. He who gives me strength to bear these 3ames, will also give me strength to bear them patiently.' "He then commenced his dying prayer: 'Almighty God, Father of Thy dearly beloved Son, Thou God of angels and the Powers, Thou God of all creatures ! I thank Thee, that I have the happiness to partake of the Cbalice of Thy anointed One. Accept me into the num- THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 25 ber of Thy martyrs, receive me as an agreeable offering. I praise Thee for all things, and glorify and magnify Thee through the High Priest, Jesus Christ, to whom with Thee and the Holy Ghost, be all honor now and in eternity." " "While many of the faithful, who were present," con- tinued Seraphica, " were offering up their prayers with him in silence, there arose suddenly a clear, bright flame on high, which caused a deathlike stillness in the multi- tude, and behold the miracle! The roaring element arched around the saint, like a mighty sail swelling with the wind. A deep sound of horror echoed through the crowd, as they perceived this visible and miraculous interposition of the God of the Christians. " "When Quadratus saw that Polycarp was untouched by the fire, he made a sign to one of the executioners. All waited anxiously for the fresh commands, and in an instant one of the executioners, appointed by the Pro- consul, sprang upon the pile, like a tiger upon his prey, and plunged a dagger in the old man's breast. Poly- carp stood motionless, but as his breathing became quicker, the blood flowed profusely from his wound into the flames beneath. He sank at length upon his knees, closed his eyes, rendered his mighty soul to Him who gave it, and his body to the flames." Here Seraphica was silent ; the strongest emotion for some minutes overpowered her. She leaned her head upon her mother's shoulder, and her raven hair fell upon her pale face, like a veil of mourning. " Let us be com- forted," sobbed forth Charitana, " Polycarp has won the crown of life. He was an unwearied champion, and now 3 26 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. his eternal sabbath has begun. He fought the good fight, and went to receive his reward on the very day on which the Eastern Church commemorates the death of our Redeemer." Charitana, thinking it possible, that in a few days more Seraphica would follow in the footsteps of the holy Bishop, continued : " The life of every good Christian is a martyrdom, which ends but in death." Seraphica, whose mind was wholly occupied with the last hours of the holy Polycarp, heard but little : her mother's words died on her ear, and she continued uninterruptedly: " The sanguinary deed was scarcely completed, when the people cried aloud: 'Long live the Proconsul and Roman justice ! ' The multitude applauded, but we Christians wept in silence. "His sacred relics were scattered to the winds by the excited people. "We still lingered on, and felt as though Polycarp, phoenix-like, had risen from his holy ashes, and overshadowed his orphan children with his protecting wings. The sandals, staff, and girdle of the saint, lay untouched before us. We hastened to secure these pre- cious mementos. Some had already possessed them- selves of the sandals and staff) whilst I, endeavoring to seize the girdle, felt in the same moment a hand upon my shoulder, and a rough voice spoke aloud : ' Behold, this is one of the poisonous plants that spring up from such seed ! ' and in the twinkling of an eye, the girdle was twisted round my arm ; I was bound, led across the Arena, and cast into one of the dark cells of the Am- phitheatre. This then, dearest mother, is the girdle of which I speak; and these are the spots of his holy THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 27 blood." Charitana took the sacred relic and pressed it to her lips. Tears fell from her eyes, but they were not so much for Polycarp, as for her noble-minded daughter, who seemed to suspect nothing of the probable fate that in a few days awaited her. " Well, Seraphica," said the mother, on returning the girdle, " when shall we meet again?" "When our Heavenly Father wills it!" she answered, and resumed her former discourse: "As I was being led from the Amphitheatre to prison, one of our friends, Irenaus, the priest, who was Polycarp's beloved disciple, met me. He recognized me, drew closer, and admonished me in Latin as follows : ' Hold firmly the doctrines of your Saviour, which the Holy Ghost hath imprinted in thy heart.' Yes, I will pre- serve it yes, to my last breath." "When shall we meet again ? " repeated Charitana ; " which of us shall be first called hence thou or I ? " Seraphica perceived the anguish with which the ques- tion was accompanied, and seizing her mother's hand, replied : " We shall die in that very hour that God wills, and not when man conjectures. On my account cease to be anxious. ' / shall not die yet. 1 I have besought our Lord not yet to call me to my eternal home. I wish to suffer, but not to die ; I burn with the desire of showing to the world, in the mirror of a pure life, the doctrines of our Eedeemer, and to relate to many of the unbe- lievers, what the Son of God has done for man : and not till I have fulfilled that mission, shall I be called hence. . It may be long till then ! God has heard my prayer, and my Guardian Angel has revealed it to me." Sud- 28 THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. denly loud knocks were heard at the door. The jailer commands Charitana to depart, and does not even give her time to take leave of her beloved child. Seraphica was again alone ; she reflected on the words : " Which of us shall first be taken hence ? " but the answer gave her no anxiety. Casting her eyes on the lovely fruit which her mother had brought, she took a pomegranate, and on dividing it, she discovered in the centre some pieces of gold : they were evidently secreted there for Seraphica, that she might therewith soften the heart of her savage jailer. She tasted the fruit, but could not eat, for she was unable to swallow. The jailer detained Charitana at the door of the prison. "Well, it seems you have forgotten the promise you made before I allowed you to enter. Did you not speak of a magnificent diamond, that you were to give me ? Come, where is the precious stone ? " u You are right," replied Charitana, " I promised you a gift of more value than this terrestrial globe, were it composed of diamonds. This treasure is the mystery of Faith, and those who possess it, become a free people, yes, become kings and princes. I will impart to thee those mysteries." " How, fool ? Will you take upon you the part of Apollo, who once stuck upon the Phrygian king a pair of long ears ? You want to make a Midas of me ! No no ; you must be the cheated one, not I. Do you hear the noises coming from the slave market ? those are the cries of the Christians undergoing the lash. Thou, , fool, art also a Christian, and one of the worst. I over- THE YOUTHFUL CAPTIVE. 29 heard distinctly your conversation in the dungeon, and this very evening I shall hear the gold and silver I shall receive for your detection, jingling in my pocket." He then thrust the unhappy mother into a cell, and closed the door with such violence, that the noise echoed like thunder along the corridors. 3* CHAPTER II. THE EARTHQUAKE. FTER the conquest of Asia Minor by the Romans, Smyrna, one of her most cele- brated cities, was obliged to pay her share of the yearly tribute imposed on the prov- ince, in wool, carpets, mohair, tapestry, nut- galls, and above all, gold-dust from the rivers Hermos and Paktolos, and whatever luxuries the extravagant Romans could desire, in Asiatic perfumes and cosmetics, which were brought to the har- bor, and shipped for Rome, as were also slaves in great numbers. Notwithstanding this heavy tax upon the people, trade flourished, and the population became so numerous, that the shady gardens and capacious quays, which sur- rounded the lovely bay, could scarcely accommodate the various classes of the inhabitants, who thronged there, for their evening promenade, to enjoy the cool sea- breezes. Here also might be seen the Roman Proconsul, Statius Quadratus, attended by his body-guard. It was to him the merit was due, that the tribute flowed in so freelv. (30) THE EARTHQUAKE. 31 Quadratus turned aside from the crowd, and walked towards the shore, when he met Asmenes, a priest of Isis, who had been educated in Egypt, for the service of that goddess. He bowed to the Proconsul, who said to him, " Well, Egyptian naturalist, tell me whence comes this oppressive heat, at this unusual season of the year?" " A difficult question," replied Asmenes ; " although in the calends of November, we have a heat which seldom occurs in the height of summer. I did suppose the even- ing would have become cool, but it seems just as if the heat increases in the same degree as the sun recedes. I wonder whether the Christians, who fare but badly in the market, have not used some mysterious means against the sun ! " " What do you mean ? " said Quadratus. " It is said," replied Asmenes, " that the Thessalonians are masters in necromancy, and that there are more soothsayers and magicians amongst them than amongst any other people. But for my own part, I think that the greatest are to be found amongst the Christians. It is beyond doubt, that at the death of their great Prophet, the sun withdrew his light for three hours ; and it is also related that in bygone times, the sun stood still in the heavens for three days. It was only this spring, when Polycarp was before your tribunal, a mysterious voice spoke to him, which was distinctly heard by all present.* But thanks, a thousand thanks to you, noble Proconsul, who have granted our petitions, and well rid Smyrna of * As Polycarp entered the Amphitheatre, a voice was heard from Heaven, " Take courage, Polycarp ! " 32 THE EARTHQUAKE. that sorry scoundrel. Ha! look at them bound in the ship yonder ! O may Isis grant thee for this, health, happiness, and prosperity ! " Both advanced a little far- ther up the walk, which led to the shore. Several cara- vans returning from Arabia, and laden with its treasures, passed them by on their way to the city, there to deliver them on the coming market-day, and to reload with other wares, to sell again in their own country. Quadratus was a man of mean education, and very superstitious ; he continued to dwell upon the witchcraft, which, according to the priest of Isis, lay in the hands of the Christians ; and as the heat increased, his anxiety became the more intense. At last, he stood still, and looking towards the "West, said, " Do you see that strange appearance ? " convulsively seizing the priest's arm. " Look at that unusual red, covering the heavens ! * It cannot possibly be the reflection of the setting sun, which appears yonder on Argos. What are the gods about to send us ? " Asmenes looked in silence on the spectacle. Deeper still became the glowing red, the higher it rose in the heave"ns, till it ended in a deep violet hue. On the extreme verge of the horizon, a pale yellow gleam extended along the North, West, and South, until it approached the East, where it was scarcely visible; and little bluish vapors rose from the sea, which became larger as they ascended. The temperature then changed into that of a rough, sharp harvest season ; small clouds danced, spectre-like, here and there, upon the surface of the water, and rising in the air passed over the city, and spread themselves on the neighboring hills. THE EARTHQUAKE. 33 " Do I deceive myself," said the Proconsul, " or are we actually in a thick fog ? I feel fearfully cold too. Let us hasten home: I fear the worst, either pestilence, or war, or a general devastation." "It is the departure of the Christians," said Asmenes; "they are preparing all this for us ; I have expected nothing less than that their departure would be connected with some such display. Thus, when in old times they fled out of Egypt from king Pharaoh, they did similar things, and even divided the Eed Sea, so that they passed through as if on dry land ; while Pharaoh and his whole army found death in attempting to follow them. And it is very possible, that their departure now will also be accompanied with bad consequences." With this apprehension, they separated, the priest to his dwelling, and the Proconsul to the palace, for conso- lation from Herod, the Irenarch. A number of dark Smyrnians were passing along the streets, some seeking the open air, others the harbor ; for the oldest inhabitants understood the signs, and remem- bered that they were always followed by a greater or lesser convulsion of the earth. Quadratus, accompanied by his body-guard, then hast- ened home. His palace formed a wing of the citadel, which was so elevated, that one could scarcely fear any danger. He durst not trust himself in the open air, for he dreaded the unusual excitement called forth amongst the greater portion of the inhabitants, by his cruel per- secution of the Christians. To sooner had he arrived at the citadel, than he ran anxiously through all the apartments, and looked out at the starry heavens, first 34 THE EARTHQUAKE. through one window, and then through another. He, who has so often proudly rocked himself in his Sella, and laughed as he looked on, while the combatants in the Arena are torn to pieces by lions, or the condemned Christians cast to wild beasts, has now become a trem- bling coward, as soon as he sees his own life in jeop- ardy. Herod showed more courage. He preferred to watch the operations of nature. When all was silent and mo- tionless, he mounted his steed, and rode with some friends to a beautiful valley outside the city, which to the present day is called the "Valley of Paradise." Midnight was approaching; the heavens were beauti- fully clear, and a solemn stillness reigned around. All listened with breathless attention, yet no sound could be heard of that hollow, subterraneous rumbling which usually precedes a convulsion of the earth. Even one amongst the party, who laid his ear close to the ground, could not discover anything to cause alarm. Herod suddenly thought that he heard, not far distant, something he could not define. His friends were divided in their opinions, till it was soon discovered to be the reiterated barks of a watch-dog, on the roof of an adja- cent villa. The barking echoed along the valley, and became gradually stronger and quicker, till it broke out into a loud, tremulous howl, which was soon taken up by several other dogs in the neighborhood. "A remark- able omen," said Herod, as he shook his head thought- fully. On a sudden, the horses, with manes erect, pawed the ground, reared, plunged, and dashed with their riders, foaming, on. THE EARTHQUAKE. 35 1 Close to the city, the greater part of the inhabitants, weary of watching, and exhausted with anxiety, returned to their dwellings. While some wondered that the ap- pearances were so much dreaded, others were inquiring if the same signs had ever been observed before, without having been followed by evil consequences. The more cautious took balls of stone or metal, and suspended them by threads or long hairs from the ceiling of their rooms, in order to detect the first motion, and save them- selves by immediate flight. Watches were placed on nearly all the houses ; but the silence was unbroken save, from time to time, by a footfall, or the anxious whisper- ings of human voices. Although the guards were so numerous, still they were insufficient to protect the property of the inhabitants from plunder. Thieves were lurking in all directions, hoping to profit by the general consternation. Asmenes, the priest of Isis, on his return home, dis- covered that a great robbery had been committed in his absence. Occupied with the things that were then pass- ing, he had forgotten to lock up his effects carefully, and behold! he found himself robbed of his new golden Sistom, or "Isis-rattle." Complaining to his goddess, that she did not protect her own property, and burning with rage, he armed himself with a sharp knife, and ran down to the vestibule, thinking probably, that a second attempt would be made on his house. He waited there a long time. The cheerfulness wherewith a little com- pany of captive Christians were wending their way through Hercules Street, towards the sea, formed a strik- ing contrast to his fury. The slave-masters, fearing 36 THE EARTHQUAKE. the worst, wished, for greater security, to put them aboard the ships, and send them out to sea when the signs be- came sufficiently alarming. The procession approached an arch, with two torch- bearers in advance. The captives were entoning one of the beautiful canticles of their persecuted Church, as they passed along. Asmenes stole behind a pillar, and as the words, "Laudate Dominum omnes gentes," fell upon his ear, he muttered to himself, "These are the blasphemers, the robbers, the cannibals, who are bring- ing so much misery on Smyrna ! Now they approach I Nemesis will deliver them up to my vengeance: an agreeable sacrifice to the Shade of Hades ! " Seizing his knife, he darted forward, exclaiming, "Thieves! give me back my Sistrum my golden Sistrum!" and crash! a terrific rumbling like thunder, rolls beneath. The earth, no longer able to restrain the pent-up ele- ment, bursts asunder at the very feet of the heathen priest, he totters falls, and in an instant finds his grave. The fiery element just liberated, rushes with ungovernable fury along the streets. Another shock : house after house heaves; towers totter ; castles are rent asunder, and street after street are heaps of ruins. But what of the wretched inhabitants ? They run to and fro in wild despair : they call on the gods to help them : " Help ! help ! ye gods, or we are lost ! " Some, in frantic haste, hurrying to the shipping ; whilst others seek refuge in the mountains, or in the adjacent fields. The darkness increases the horrors of the awful scene. The upper part of the city remained still undisturbed. The massive edifices and principal temples had as yet THE EARTHQUAKE. 37 withstood the fury of the element. Many of the people fled on the wings of terror to the temples of their gods ; particularly to the great sanctuary of Homer, which was soon densely crowded. The confusion reached its height ; flight was impossible, on account of the innumerable piles of smoking ruins, that everywhere impeded the steps of the unhappy fugitives. Men, women, and chil- dren of every class, whom terror had deprived of their senses, might be seen, here and there lying among their fallen dwellings. The dead were carried into the open places by hundreds, still greater was the number of wounded, bruised, and maimed: and heart-rending were the agonizing shrieks of those who were lying half buried beneath the scorching ruins, unable to afford themselves the slightest assistance. The increasing darkness suggested the necessity of seeking the aid of torches ; and he who was fortunate enough to pick up one, hoped by its means to find his way out of the city. But the endless heaps of rubbish, the rising exhalations, and the clouds of dust, rendered escape impossible. Even where a free passage was left, the red flickering light of the torches served only to make the "darkness visible." In several parts of the city, the fire burst forth again with redoubled fury, and destroyed, with incredible rapidity, everything within its reach. Some maintained that it proceeded from the earth, whilst others thought it was caused by the fires of the forges and of the dwelling-houses buried beneath the ruins. Each one had something terrific to relate, and many were of opinion that the end of all things was at hand, and that the world was about to be destroyed 4 38 THE EARTHQUAKE. by fire. Suddenly cries were heard from the quarter where stood the palace and citadel : a fresh chasm in the earth was issuing forth another destructive fire. Statius Quadratus hoped to save himself .by taking refuge on the highest terrace of the citadel. But he hoped in vain ; for whilst on bended knees he was im- ploring the protection of the gods, a roaring flame issued from the foundations, and forced its way through the palace till it reached the terrace where he was. Terri- fied at the sight, he drew back so far, that he had no other choice but to cast himself down from the height, or become a victim to the devouring fire. " Ten thou- sand sesterces to him who helps me ! " But the flames have already claimed their victim. A scream, a faint moan, and Statius Quadratus has finished his wicked career. Up to this time, by the fall of such masses of dwell- ings, no less than the tenth part of the inhabitants lost their lives. Those who had sought refuge in the Tem- ple of Homer, were nearly all crushed to death by the falling of the roof and pillars ; but what appeared most strange was, that the bronze statue of the poet himself was split from head to foot. More fortunate was the lot of those who, like the Christians, sought in the first instance to save themselves by sea. The unusual calm- ness of the waters formed a striking contrast with the destruction and devastation which raged on the shore. Two hours after the tremendous shocks on land, the sea began to heave and swell at the mouths of the Hermos. Although the tide was then at the ebb, it rose, with the greatest rapidity, far above the highest THE EARTHQUAKE. 39 flood-mark. On a sudden, a volcanic force beneath raised the foaming waters mountain-high, and bearing the richly laden vessels on their convulsed bosom, swept them as if triumphantly across the stone pier, and cast them into the city. Then gaining a height of more than eighty feet, they passed over the highest buildings, still standing, and in their course quenched the volumes of flames which were issuing from all parts of the city. As if the sea were charged to complete the work of desolation, its waters receded slowly, leaving the shattered vessels mingled with the smoking ruins ; * and in its return, bore back in thousands, the dead bodies of the inhabitants. In such horrors the night passed on. At last, impenetrable darkness gave place to the morning-dawn. The earth was at rest, and the sea had resumed its wonted calm. The survivors, although they had lost all, looked upon themselves as enviable mortals. Strangers embraced each other, as though they had been dear friends meeting after a long separation. It was a sad mingling of joy and sorrow. On one side could be seen fathers and mothers weeping over the dead bodies of their children; on the other, children inconsolable for the loss of their beloved parents. The morning sun rose in splendor, and the sparkling waters danced in his beams, as if rejoicing to meet again. What form is moving yonder on the heights? pale and slender, robed in white, enriched with the golden hues of the rising sun; bearing a broken chain on one arm, and a girdle on the other. It seems as though it * One large-sized vessel was found in the centre of the ruined Theatre. 40 THE EARTHQUAKE. were the guardian spirit of this once great city, mourning over its fall. Slowly and thoughtfully she passes on, till she reaches the still smoking ruins of the citadel. She pauses, and casting down . her soft dark eyes, surveys the desolation that lies before her. The spectacle sur- prises her, but her mien betrays neither fear nor horror. Her expression is that of silent resignation to the will of Him who makes the earth his footstool. She was roused from her reverie by a voice exclaiming, " Sera- phica here ! The captive at liberty ! The victim of death standing over the tombs of her persecutors ! " Seraphica answered with a gentle gravity, "Yes, Irenaus," for it was he, " the captive is |ree. After one had opened the door of my prison to announce my ap- proacking death, another, mightier than he, rent its strong walls asunder, and I was liberated. I now stand gazing on a city whose splendor has vanished from the earth. Even whilst I am now speaking, I see several buildings falling into ruins. Irenaus, is not that my mother's dwelling? Oh, what of her, revered master? Is she amongst the living or the dead ? " " You could scarcely wonder," replied Irenaus, " if she had shared the fate of so many. But no, Seraphica, she is saved, but saved by slavery. She and some of her companions in the faith, were, last night, shipped for Home. But delay not to save yourself; your chains show that you are a captive." An hour later, Seraphica was seen standing on the deck of the only safe vessel to be found in the harbor. She was on her way for Greece. One look as the vessel receded from the shore, and it was the last, upon THE EARTHQUAKE. 41 the ruins of a city where she had spent her few and momentous years. She could discern her mother's half-destroyed dwelling on the projection of a hill ; but the palm-trees and little garden had disappeared. And behold! while she was still gazing, the walls gave way, the roof fell in, and nothing remained of her once beloved home. 4* CHAPTER III. METELLA. E will now conduct our readers to charming Attica, so often celebrated in the poet's song, to the land of great generals and lawgivers, to the cradle of philosophy, to the seat of the Muses, and to the place of refuge for the Faith. The fame of Athens had, at this time, out-grown itself, and began to tend towards her ruin. But even then she was in possession of all the intellec- tual acquirements of past ages, and enjoyed the results of the thoughts, actions, and labors of her forefathers. For this reason, it is the ripest and most beautiful period in her history. As the sun increases in beauty, whilst sinking in the "West, so did Athens when verging on her downfall. The Emperor, Adrian, loved Athens more than any other city in his vast dominions ; and all the magnificent edifices and new regular streets on the other side of Adrian's Arch, extending wide, and forming, as it were, a second city, were the work of this great Emperor. After this vast addition, Athens could accommodate (42) METELLA. 43 180,000 inhabitants. Adrian's Arch which thus con- nected the old city with the new, and which to this day is in good preservation, proclaims the later history of Greece in that degree of development in which the Eoman life was bound up with that of the ancient Greek, and which had blended both nationalities into one. Outside the old city, to the north-east, was a pyramid- ical mountain, called Lycabett ; at the present time it is overgrown with thorns and brushwood. As tradition runs, Pallas, the tutelar goddess of Athens, was at one. time fully occupied in ordering materials for building the Acropolis, which was dedicated to her. She was carrying even the Lycabett in her arms, when a crow fluttered round, and announced to her the birth of Erich- thonius. Seized with terror, she let the mountain fall, close by Athens, where it now stands. At the foot of this mountain, from the summit of which the traveller has a charming view of Athens to- wards the citadel, and of the blue sea, were the palaces of the Greek and Roman nobles, who had settled there ; and one which occupied the first place amongst them, was that of a Greek matron, named Metella. It stood not far from the principal entrance to the famous aque- duct, built by Adrian, a'nd a little higher than the mag- nificent royal citadel outside Athens, which strangers still admire. Like all the edifices of Adrian's time, Metella's palace was of Roman architecture : still the better taste of the Grecian was not wanting in the lightness and elegance with which the design was carried out. Inserted on the front of the vestibule, was a marble slab, on which 44 METELLA. might be read the name of the owner. Over the door of the principal entrance stood a brazen statue, repre- senting Hope, with the inscription, " Dum spiro spero," "As long as I breathe I shall hope." Guarding the porch or entrance - hall, was a slave, beautifully attired. He bore handsomely wrought fetters, which he rattled from time to time, thereby to give him- self the appearance of a doorkeeper. His walk, and the ease with which he swung his chain, proved that , pride knows how to govern all classes of society, down to an ignorant doorkeeper. Metella tarries on the Pergula, a name given to a pavilion on the roof, and which is supported by gilt pil- lars. The lady, in all her natural elegance, reclines on a couch ; and near her stands a marble table, on which lies an unfolded book-roll. It is the work of a Eoman poet, her darling Virgil, whose eclogues she is reading. She raises herself, and taking her pen, writes down one of the most beautiful passages, on the re-perusal of which, her eye, and the movement of her head, show plainly, that the depth of some of the poet's words are not clear to her. But some of the verses please her so much, that she reads them aloud. " Sicilian Muse, begin a loftier strain ! Tho' lonely shrubs and trees that shade the plain Delight not all The last great age, foretold by sacred rhymes, Renews its finish'd course ; Saturnian times Roll round again, and mighty years, begun From their first orb, in radiant circles run. The base degenerate iron offspring ends ; A golden progeny from heav'n descends : . . . . METELLA. 45 The lovely boy, with his auspicious face, Shall Pollio's consulship and triumph grace ; Majestic months set out with him' to their appointed race. The father banish'd virtue shall restore, And crimes shall threat the guilty world no more. The son shall lead the life of gods, and be By gods and heroes seen, and gods and heroes see. The jarring nations he in peace shall bind, And with perpetual virtues rule mankind. Mature in years, to ready honors move, of celestial seed ! foster-son of Jove 1 See lab'ring Nature calls thee to sustain The nodding frame of Heav'n, and earth, and main ; See, to their base restor'd, earth, seas, and air, And joyful ages from behind, in crowding ranks appear, . To sing thy praise, would heav'n my breath prolong, Infusing spirits worthy such a song ; Not Thracian Orpheus should transcend my lays, Nor Linus crown'd with never-fading bays ; Though each his heav'nly parent should inspire; The Muse instruct the voice, and Phosbus tune the lyre." * " Yirgil, thou speakest beautifully," says Metella, "but I cannot understand thee. Nearly fifty Olympiads have passed since thy death, and I know nothing of that child of the gods, who is to expiate guilt, and to redeem the world. There are a people in Asia, who believe that a god had lived amongst them, but he came to an evil end. "When will the human mind find truth upon earth? It will ever stand before an enigma, and never solve it, for that enigma is itself." She takes up a book, in Greek, an old work on history, * Dryden's Virgil. 46 METELLA. which relates the misfortunes of Cyrus, king of Persia. She has scarcely read a few pages, when she seeks an- other chapter; nor does that content her. "Always the same," murmured she, "Cyrus broke up and advanced: here he commenced ; Cyrus liked this, and wished that you also might partake of the enjoyment." "No Xenophon," she exclaims, "thou art ever bread without salt, tasteless and unpalatable." She seizes the scrolls and casts them down on the pol- ished Mosaic floor, so that they roll against the marble balustrades of the balcony. " O time ! time ! " she continues, " how unjust thou art sometimes with the works of the human mind I How often dost thou break to pieces in thy iron mortar the best and most beautiful, and scatterest it to the winds, scarcely leaving a remnant for us, whilst thou care- fully preservest in thy sanctuary the insipid and weari- some works, presenting them anew from one generation to another I " But what want we with a book in this city ! "Athens lies open at my feet, a book of which Cecrops, seventeen hundred years ago, wrote the title- page, and Theseus, the first chapter, a work, each leaf of which tells of wisdom, of power, and of char- acter. O let me read in thy pages, thou great, thou lovely city!" " ATHENS, THOU FEABEST THE GODS, and carriest the traces of thy piety written on thy marble forehead on that Acropolis rich in temples. " Countless statues hide the sanctuary of Pallas from my view. Through gratitude to the gods, under whom METELLA. 47 -