Plan of the Catacombs
After descending for some time the steps ended, and they walked along the level ground. Soon they turned and entered a small vaulted chamber which was lighted from the faint glow of a furnace. The boy had walked on with the unhesitating step of one perfectly familiar with the way. Arriving at the chamber, he lighted a torch which lay on the floor and resumed his journey.
There is something in the air of a burial place which is unlike that of any other place. It is not altogether the closeness, or the damp, or the sickening smell of earth, but a certain subtle influence which unites with them and intensifies them. The spell of the dead is there, and it rests alike on mind and body. Such was the air of the catacombs. Cold and damp, it struck upon the visitor like the chill atmosphere from the realms of death. The living felt the mysterious power of the dead.
The boy Pollio went on before and Marcellus followed after. The torch but faintly illumined the intense darkness. No beam of day, no ray however weak, could ever enter here to relieve the thickness of the oppressive gloom. It was literally darkness that might be felt. The torchlight shone out but a few paces and then died in the darkness.
The path went winding on with innumerable turnings. Suddenly Pollio stopped and pointed downward. Peering through the gloom, Marcellus saw an opening in the path which led further down. It was a pit to which no bottom appeared.
"Where does this lead to?"
"Below."
"Are there more passages below?"
"O yes. As many as there are here, and still below that again. I have been in three different stories of these paths, and some of the old fossors say that in certain places they go down to a very great depth."
Christian Tomb
The passage wound along till all idea of locality was utterly lost. Marcellus could not tell whether he was within a few paces of the entrance or many furlongs off. His bewildered thoughts soon began to turn to other things. The first impressions of gloom departed he looked more particularly upon what he passed, and regarded more closely the many wonders of this strange place. All along the walls were tablets which appeared to cover long and narrow excavations. These cellular niches were ranged on both sides so closely that but little space was left between. The inscriptions that were upon the tablets showed that they were Christian tombs. He had not time to stop and read, but he noticed the frequent recurrence of the same expression, such as,
HONORIA--SHE SLEEPS IN PEACE.FAUSTA--IN PEACE.
Gemella Dormt In Pace
On nearly every tablet he saw the same sweet and gentle word. "PEACE," thought Marcellus; "what wonderful people are these Christians, who even amid such scenes as these can cherish their lofty contempt of death!"
His eyes grew more and more accustomed to the gloom as he walked along. Now the passage way grew narrower; the roof drooped, the sides approached; they had to stoop and go along more slowly. The walls were rough and rudely cut as the workmen left them when they drew along here their last load of sand for the edifices above. Subterranean damps and fungous growths overspread them in places, deepening their somber color and filling the air with thick moisture, while the smoke of the torches made the atmosphere still more oppressive.
They passed hundreds of side passages and scores of places where many paths met, all branching off in different directions. These innumerable paths showed Marcellus how hopelessly he was now cut off from the world above. This boy held his life in his hands.
"Do any ever lose their way?"
"Often."
"What becomes of them?"
"Sometimes they wander till they meet some friends, sometimes they are never heard of again. But at present, most of us know the place so well that if we lose our way we soon wander into familiar paths again."
One thing particularly struck the young soldier, and that was the immense preponderance of small tombs. Pollio told him that they were the graves of children, and thus opened to him thoughts and emotions unfelt before.
"Children!" thought he, "what do they here, the young, the pure, the innocent? Why were they not buried above, where the sun might shine kindly and the flowers bloom sweetly over their graves? Did they tread such dark paths as these on their way through life? Did they bear their part in the sufferings of those that lingered here flying from persecution? Did the noxious air and the never-ending gloom of these drear abodes shorten their fair young lives, and send their stainless spirits out of life before their time?"
"We have been a long time on the way," said Marcellus, "will we soon be there?"
"Very soon," said the boy. Whatever ideas Marcellus might have had about hunting out these fugitives before he entered here, he now saw that all attempts to do so must be in vain. An army of men might enter here and never come in sight of the Christians. The further they went, the more hopeless would be their journey. They could be scattered through the innumerable passages and wander about till they died.
But now a low sound arose from afar which arrested his attention. Sweet beyond all description, low and musical, it came down the long passages and broke upon his charmed senses like a voice from the skies.
As they went on, a light beamed before them which cast forth its rays into the darkness. The sounds grew louder, now swelling into a magnificent chorus, now dying away into a tender wail of supplication.
Chamber
In a few minutes they reached a turn in the path, and then a scene burst upon their sight.
"Stop," said Pollio, arresting his companion and extinguishing the torch. Marcellus obeyed, and looked earnestly at the spectacle before him. It was a vaulted chamber about fifteen feet in height and thirty feet square. In this place there were crowded about a hundred people, men, women, and children. At one side there was a table, behind which stood a venerable man who appeared to be the leader among them. The walls of the room seemed to have been rudely decorated with coarse pictures. The place was illuminated with the glare of torches which threw a lurid glow upon the assembly. The people were careworn and emaciated, and their faces were characterized by the same pallor which Marcellus had observed in the fossor. But the expression which now rested upon them was not of sorrow, or misery, or despair. Hope illumined their eyes, their upturned faces spoke of joy and triumph. The scene moved the soul of the beholder to its inmost depths, for it confirmed all that he had seen of the Christians, their heroism, their hope, their peace, which rested on something hidden from him. As he listened he heard their song, chanted by the whole congregation:
"Great and marvelous are thy worksLord God Almighty,Just and true are thy waysThou king of saints.Who shall not fear thee, O Lord, and glorify thy name?For thou only art holy.For all nations shall come and worship before thee,For thy judgments are made manifest."
Then there was a pause. The venerable leader read something from a scroll which was new to Marcellus. It was a sublime assertion of the immortality of the soul, and life after death. The congregation seemed to hang upon the words as though they were the words of life. Finally, the reader came to a burst of joyous exclamation which drew murmurs of gratitude and enthusiastic hope from the audience. The words thrilled upon the heart of the listener, though he did not understand their full meaning. "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God which giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ."
These words seemed to open to his mind a new world with new thoughts. Sin--death--Christ, with all the infinite train of ideas that rested upon them, arose dimly before his awakening soul. The desire for the Christian's secret which he had conceived now burned more eagerly within him.
The leader raised his head, and stretching out his hands, uttered a fervent prayer. Addressing the invisible God, he poured forth a confession of sin and guilt. He plead for pardon through the atoning death of Christ. He prayed for the Spirit from on high, so that they might become holy. Then he enumerated all their sorrows, and prayed for deliverance, asking for faith in life, victory in death, and immortality in heaven for the sake of the Redeemer, Jesus.
After this followed another chant which was sung as before:
"Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men,And he will dwell with them,And they shall be his people,And God himself shall be with themAnd be their God.And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes,And there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor sighing,Neither shall there be any more pain,For the former things are passed away. Amen.Blessing, and glory, and wisdom.And thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might,Be unto our GodFor ever and ever. Amen."
Now the congregation began to disperse. Pollio walked forward, leading Marcellus. At the sight of his martial figure and glittering armor they all started backward, and would have fled by the different paths. But Marcellus called in a loud voice,
"Fear not, Christians, I am alone and in your power."
Upon this they all turned back, and looked at him with anxious curiosity. The aged man who led the meeting advanced and looked earnestly upon him.
"Who are you, and why do you seek us out in the last resting-place that is left to us on earth?"
"Do not suspect me of evil. I come alone, unattended. I am at your mercy."
"But what can a soldier and a Pretorian wish of us? Are you pursued? Are you a criminal? Is your life in danger?"
"No. I am an officer high in rank and authority. But I have all my life been seeking anxiously after the truth. I have heard much of you Christians, but in these times of persecution it is difficult to find you in Rome. I have sought you here."
At this the aged man requested the assembly to withdraw, that he might converse with the new comer. The others readily did so, and retired by different ways, feeling much relieved. A pale lady advanced eagerly to Pollio and caught him in her arms.
"How long you were, my son!"
"I encountered this officer, dear mother, and was detained."
"Thank God you are safe. But who is he?"
"I think he is an honest man," said the boy, "see how he confides in us."
"Caecilia," said the leader, "do not go away for a little time." The lady remained, and a few others did the same.
"I am Honorius," said the old man, addressing Marcellus, "a humble elder in the Church of Christ. I believe that you are sincere and earnest. Tell us now what you want with us."
"My name is Marcellus, and I am a captain in the Pretorian Guard."
"Alas!" cried Honorius, and clasping his hands he fell back in his seat. The others looked at Marcellus with mournful eyes, and the lady Caecilia cried out in an agony of grief,
"Pollio! how have you betrayed us!"
CHAPTER V.
THE CHRISTIAN'S SECRET.
"The mystery of godliness, God manifest in the flesh."
The young soldier stood astonished at the effect which his name produced.
"Why do you all tremble so?" said he. "Is it on my account?"
"Alas!" said Honorius, "though we are banished to this place we have constant communication with the city. We have heard that new efforts were making to persecute us more severely, and that Marcellus, a captain in the Pretorians, had been appointed to search us out. We see you here among us, our chief enemy. Have we not cause to fear? Why should you track us here?"
"You have no cause to fear me," cried Marcellus, "even if I were your worst enemy. Am I not in your power? If you chose to detain me could I escape? If you killed me could I resist? I am helpless among you. My situation here, alone among you, is proof that there is no danger from me."
"True," said Honorius, assuming his calm demeanor, "you are right; you could never return without our assistance."
"Hear me, then and I will explain all to you. I am a Roman soldier. I was born in Spain, and was brought up in virtue and morality. I was taught to fear the gods and do my duty.
"I have been in many lands, and have confined myself chiefly to my profession. Yet I have never neglected religion. In my chamber I have studied all the writings of the philosophers of Greece and Rome. The result is that I have learned from them to despise our gods and goddesses, who are no better, and even worse than myself.
"From Plato and Cicero I learn that there is one Supreme Deity whom it is my duty to obey. But how can I know him, and how shall I obey him? I learn, too, that I am immortal, and shall become a spirit when I die. How shall I be then? Shall I be happy or miserable? How shall I secure happiness in that spiritual life? They describe the glories of that immortal life in eloquent language, but they give no directions for common men like me. To learn more of this is the desire of my soul.
"The priests can tell me nothing. They are wedded to old forms and ceremonies in which they do not believe. The old religion is dead, and men care for it no more.
"In different lands I have heard much of Christians. Shut up in the camp, I have not had much opportunity to see them. Indeed, I never cared to know them until lately. I have heard all the usual reports about their immorality, their secret vice, their treasonable doctrines. I believed all this until lately.
"A few days ago I was in the Coliseum. There, first, I learned something about the Christians. I saw the gladiator Macer, a man to whom fear was utterly unknown, lay down his life calmly rather than do what he believed to be wrong. I saw an old man meet death with a peaceful smile; and above all, I saw a band of young girls give themselves up to the wild beasts with a song of triumph on their lip:
"'Unto Him that loved us,That washed us from our sins.'"
As Marcellus spoke a wonderful effect was produced. The eyes of his listeners glistened with eagerness and joy. When he mentioned Macer they looked at each other with meaning glances; when he spoke of the old man, Honorius bowed his head; and when he spoke of the children and murmured the words of their song, they turned away their faces and wept.
"For the first time in my life I saw death conquered. I myself can meet death without terror, and so can every soldier when he comes in the battle-field. It, is our profession. But these people rejoiced in death. Here were not soldiers, but children, who carried the same wonderful feeling in their hearts.
"Since then I have thought of nothing else. Who is he that loved you? Who is he that washes you from your sins? Who is he that causes this sublime courage and hope to arise within you? What is it that supports you here? Who is he to whom you were just now praying?
"I have a commission to lead soldiers against you and destroy you. But I wish to learn more of you first. And I swear by the Supreme that my present visit shall bring no harm to you. Tell me, then, the Christian's secret."
"Your words," said Honorius, "are true and sincere. Now I know that you are no spy or enemy, but an inquiring soul sent here by the Spirit to learn that which you have long been seeking. Rejoice, for he that cometh unto Christ shall be in no wise cast out.
"You see before you men and women who have left friends, and home, and honor, and wealth, to live here in want, and fear, and sorrow, and they count all this as nothing for Christ, yes, they count even their own lives nothing. They give up all for Him who loved them.
"You are right, Marcellus, in thinking that there is some great power which can do all this: It is not fanaticism, nor delusion, nor excitement. It is the knowledge of the truth and love for the great God.
"What you have sought for all your life is our dearest possession. Treasured up in our hearts, it is worth far more to us than all that the world can give. It gives us happiness in life even in this place of gloom, and in death it makes us victorious.
"You wish to know the Supreme Being. Our religion is his revelation, and through this he makes himself known. Infinite in greatness and power, he also is infinite in love and mercy. This religion draws us so closely to him that he is our best friend, our guide, our comfort, our hope, our all, our Creator, our Redeemer, and our final Saviour.
"You wish to know of the immortal life. Our religion tells of this. It shows us that by loving and serving God on earth we shall dwell with him in infinite blessedness in heaven. It shows us how to live so as to please him here, and it makes us know how we shall praise him hereafter. By this we learn that death is no longer a curse, but rather a blessing, since it becomes but the sure passage way unto happiness unspeakable in the presence of Him who loved us."
"O then," cried Marcellus, "if this be so, make known to me this truth. For this I have looked for years; for this I have prayed to that Supreme Being of whom I have heard. You are the possessor of that which I long to know. The end and aim of my life lies here. The whole night is before us. Do not put me off, but at once tell me all. Has God, indeed, made known all this, and have I been ignorant of it?"
Tears of joy glistened in the eyes of the Christians. Honorius murmured a few words of silent thankfulness and prayer. After which he drew forth a manuscript, which he handled with tender care.
"Here," said he, "beloved youth, is the word of life which came from God, which brings such peace and joy to man. In this we can find all that the soul desires. In these divine words we learn that which we can find no where else; and though the mind may brood over it for a lifetime, yet the extent of its glorious truths can never be reached."
Then Honorius opened the book and began to tell of Jesus. He told him of the long succession of prophets which had heralded his coming, of the chosen people of God who had kept alive the knowledge of the truth for so many ages, and of the marvelous works which they had witnessed.
He spoke of his birth, his childhood, his first appearance, his miracles, his teachings. All this he read, with a few comments of his own, from the sacred manuscript.
Then he related the treatment which he received, the scorn, contempt, and persecution which hurried him on to his betrayal.
Finally, he read the story of his death on Calvary.
Upon Marcellus the effect of all this was wonderful. Light seemed to burst upon his mind. The holiness of God, which turned with abhorrence from human sin; his justice, which demanded punishment; his patience, which endured so much; his mercy, which contrived a way to save his creatures from the ruin which they drew on themselves; his amazing love, which brought him down to sacrifice himself for their salvation, all were clear. When Honorius reached the end of the mournful story of Calvary, and came to the cry, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me!" he was roused by a sob from Marcellus. Looking up through the tears which dimmed his own eyes, he saw the form of the strong man bowed, and his frame quivering with emotion. "No more, no more now," he murmured, "Let me think of Him:
"'Him who loved us,Who washed us from our sins,In his own blood.'"
And Marcellus buried his face in his hands.
Honorius raised his eyes to heaven and prayed. The two were alone, for their companions had long since departed. The light from a lamp in a niche behind Honorius but dimly illumined the scene. Thus they remained in silence for a long time.
At last Marcellus raised his head.
"I feel," said he, "that I too had a part in causing the death of the Holy One. Read on, more of that word of life, for my own life hangs upon it."
Then Honorius read the story of the burial, the resurrection, the appearance again to the disciples, and the ascension. Nor did he end with this. He sought to give peace to the soul of his friend. He read to him all the words of Jesus which invite the sinner, and assure to him a gracious reception and complete forgiveness.
"It is the word of God," cried Marcellus, "it is a voice from heaven. My heart responds to everything that I have heard, and I know that it must be eternal truth.
"But how can I be a sharer in these blessings? I am a sinner; I seem now to have my eyes cleared of mist. I know myself at last. Before I thought I was a just and a righteous man. But beside the Holy One of whom I have heard I sink down into the dust, I see that I am a sinner before him."
"He has atoned for all."
"But how can I be benefited?"
"He will pardon everything even to the uttermost."
"How can he pardon me?"
"Lift up your soul to him and pray for pardon. If you ask you shall receive."
"O, then, if I may dare to approach, if it be permitted for me to utter a word to him, teach me the words, tell me the way."
In the dimness of the gloomy vault, in solitude and solemn silence, Honorius knelt down, and Marcellus bowed himself by his side.
The venerable Christian lifted up his soul in prayer. Marcellus felt as though his own soul was being lifted up to the courts of heaven, to the presence of the Saviour, by the power of that, fervent and agonizing prayer. The words seemed to find an echo in his own soul. In his deep abasement he rested his wants upon his companion so that he might present them in a more acceptable manner.
But finally his own desires grew stronger. Hope came to him, timidly, tremblingly, yet still it was hope, and his soul grew stronger at her presence. At, last, when Honorius ended, his feelings burst forth. It was the prayer of the publican: "God be merciful unto me a sinner!"
Hours passed on. But who can fittingly describe the progress of a soul on its way to its God? Enough, that when morning dawned on the earth above, a better day had dawned over the soul of Marcellus in the vaults below. His longings were completely satisfied; the load was all removed; the Christians; secret was his; and with rapture unfelt before, he could now sing the song of the Christian:
"Unto Him that loved us,To Him that washed us from our sinsIn his own blood,To Him be glory and dominionFor ever and ever."
CHAPTER VI.
THE CLOUD OF WITNESSES.
"These all died in faith."
The new convert soon learned more of the Christians. After a brief repose he rose and was joined by Honorius, who offered to show him the nature of the place where they lived.
Those whom he had seen at the chapel service formed but a small part of the dwellers in the catacombs. Their numbers rose to many thousands, and they were scattered throughout its wide extent in little communities, each of which had its own means of communication with the city.
He walked far on, accompanied by Honorius. He was astonished at the numbers of people whom he encountered; and though he knew that the Christians were numerous, yet he did not suppose that so vast a proportion would have the fortitude to choose a life in the catacombs.
Nor was he less interested in the dead than in the living. As he passed along he read the inscriptions upon their tombs, and found in them all the same strong faith and lofty hope. These he loved to read, and the fond interest which Honorius took in these pious memorials made him a congenial guide.
"There," said Honorius, "lies a witness for the truth."
Marcellus looked where he pointed, and read as follows:
PRIMITIUS, IN PEACE, AFTER MANY TORMENTS, A MOST VALIANT MARTYR. HE LIVED ABOUT THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS. HIS WIFE RAISED THIS TO HER DEAREST HUSBAND, THE WELL-DESERVING.
"These men," said Honorius, "show us how Christians ought to die. Yonder is another who suffered like Primitius."
PAULUS WAS PUT TO DEATH IN TORTURES, IN ORDER THAT HE MIGHT LIVE IN ETERNAL BLISS.
"And there," said Honorius, "is the tomb of a noble lady, who showed that fortitude which Christ can always bestow even to the weakest of his followers in the hour of need."
CLEMENTIA, TORTURED, DEAD, SLEEPS, WILL RISE.
"We do not die," said Honorius; "we but sleep, and when the last trump shall sound we shall awake to be forever with the Lord. Here," he continued, "lies Constans, doubly constant to his God by a double trial. Poison was given to him first, but it was powerless over him, so he was put to the sword:"
THE DEADLY DRAUGHT DARED NOT PRESENT TO CONSTANS THE CROWN WHICH THE STEEL WAS PERMTTED TO OFFER.
Thus they walked along, reading the inscriptions which appeared on every side. New feelings came to Marcellus as he read the glorious catalogue of names. It was to him a history of the Church of Christ. Here were the acts of the martyrs portrayed before him in words that burned. The rude pictures that adorned many of the tombs carried with them a pathos that the finest works of the skillful artist could not produce. The rudely carved letters, the bad spelling and grammatical errors, that characterized many of them, gave a touching proof of the treasure of the Gospel to the poor and lowly. Not many wise, not many mighty are called; but to the poor the Gospel is preached.
XP
On many of them there was a monogram, which was formed of the initial letters of the name of Christ, "X" and "P" being joined so as to form one cypher. Some bore a palm branch, the emblem of victory and immortality, the token of that palm of glory which shall hereafter wave in the hands of the innumerable throng that are to stand around the throne. Others bore other devices.
XP with palm branches
"What is this?" said Marcellus, pointing to a picture of a ship.
Ship
"It shows that the redeemed spirit has sailed from earth to the haven of rest."
"And what is the meaning of this fish that I see represented so often?"
Fish
"The fish is used because the letters that form its name in Greek are the initials of words that express the glory and hope of the Christian. 'iota' stands for 'Jesus,' 'chi' for 'Christ,' 'theta' and 'gamma' for 'the Son of God,' and 'sigma' for 'Saviour,' so that the fish symbolizes under its name 'iota chi theta gamma sigma,' 'Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Saviour.'"
"What means this picture that I see so often--a ship and a huge sea monster?"
"That is Jonah, a prophet of God, of whom as yet you are ignorant." Honorius then related the story of Jonah, and showed him how the escape from the bowels of the fish reminded the Christian of his deliverance from the darkness of the tomb. "This glorious hope of the resurrection is an unspeakable comfort," said he, "and we love to bring it to our thoughts by different symbols. There, too, is another symbol of the same blessed truth--the dove carrying an olive branch to Noah." He related to his companion the story of the flood, so that Marcellus might see the meaning of the representation. "But of all the symbols which are used," said he, "none is so clear as this," and he pointed to a picture of the resurrection of Lazarus.
The resurrection of Lazarus
"There too," said Honorius, "is an anchor, the sign of hope, by which the Christian, while tossing amid the stormy billows of life, holds on to his heavenly home.
Anchor
"There you see the cock, the symbol for watchfulness; for our Lord has said, 'Watch and pray.' There also is the lamb, the type of innocence and gentleness, which also brings to our mind the Lamb of God, who bore our sins, and by whose sacrifice we receive pardon. There again is the dove, which, like the lamb, represents innocence; and yet again you see it bearing the olive branch of peace.
Dove
"There are the letters Alpha and Omega, which represent our Lord; for you know that he said, 'I am Alpha and Omega.' And there is the crown, which reminds of that crown of immortality which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give us. Thus we love to surround ourselves with all that can remind us of the joy that lies before us. Taught by these, we look up from the surrounding gloom and see above us the light of immortal life."
"Here," said Marcellus, pausing, "is something that seems adapted to my condition. It sounds prophetic. Perhaps I too may be called upon to give my testimony for Christ: may I then be found faithful!"
IN CHRIST, IN THE TIME OF THE EMPEROR ADRIAN, MARIUS, A YOUNG MILITARY OFFICER, WHO LIVED LONG ENOUGH, AS HE SHED HIS BLOOD FOR CHRIST, AND DIED IN PEACE. HIS FRIENDS SET UP THIS WITH TEARS AND IN FEAR.
"'In this world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.' Thus Christ assures us; but while he warns us of evil, he consoles us with his promise of support. In him we can find grace sufficient for us."
"May the example of this young officer be for me," said Marcellus. "I may shed my blood for Christ like him. May I die as faithfully! To lie here among my brethren with such an epitaph, would be higher honor for me than a mausoleum like that of Caecilia Metella."
They walked on as before.
"How sweet," said Marcellus, "is the death of the Christian! Its horror has fled. To him it is a blessed sleep, and death, instead of awakening terror, is associated with thoughts of rest or of victory."
Valeria Dormit in Pace
THE SLEEPING PLACE OF ELPIS.ZOTICUS LAID HERE TO SLEEP.ASELUS SLEEPS IN CHRIST.MARTYRIA IN PEACE.VIDALIA IN THE PEACE OF CHRIST.NICEPHORUS, A SWEET SOUL, IN THE PLACE OF REFRESMENT.
THE SLEEPING PLACE OF ELPIS.
ZOTICUS LAID HERE TO SLEEP.
ASELUS SLEEPS IN CHRIST.
MARTYRIA IN PEACE.
VIDALIA IN THE PEACE OF CHRIST.
NICEPHORUS, A SWEET SOUL, IN THE PLACE OF REFRESMENT.
"Some of those inscriptions tell of the characters of the departed brethren," said Honorius. "Look at these."
MAXIMIUS, WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS, FRIEND OF ALL MEN.IN CHRIST, ON THE FIFTH KALENDS OF NOVEMBER, SLEPT GORGONIUS, FRIEND OF ALL, AND ENEMY TO NONE.
MAXIMIUS, WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS, FRIEND OF ALL MEN.
IN CHRIST, ON THE FIFTH KALENDS OF NOVEMBER, SLEPT GORGONIUS, FRIEND OF ALL, AND ENEMY TO NONE.
"And here too," he continued, "are others which tell of their private lives and domestic experiences."
CAECILIUS THE HUSBAND, TO CAECILIA PLACIDINA, MY WIFE, OF EXCELLETT MEMORY, WITH WHOM I LIVED TEN YEARS WITHOUT ANY QUARREL, IN JESUS CHRIST, SON OF GOD, THE SAVIOUR.SACRED TO CHRIST THE SUPREME GOD. VITALIS, BURIED ON SATURDAY, KALENDS OF AUGUST, AGED TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS. SHE LIVED WITH HER HUSBAND TEN YEARS AND THIRTY DAYS. IN CHRIST THE FIRST AND THE LAST.TO DOMNINA, MY SWEETEST AND MOST INNOCENT WIFE, WHO LIVED SIXTEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS, AND WAS MARRIED TWO YEARS FOUR MONTHS AND NINE DAYS: WITH WHOM, I WAS NOT ABLE TO LIVE, ON ACCOUNT OF MY TRAVELING, MORE THAN SIX MONTHS, DURING WHICH TIME I SHEWED HER MY LOVE AS I FELT IT. NONE ELSE SO LOVED EACH OTHER. BURIED ON THE FIFTEENTH BEFORE THE KALENDS OF JUNE.TO CLAUDIUS, THE WELL-DESERVING AND AFFECTIONATE, WHO LOVED ME. HE LIVED ABOUT TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN CHRIST.
CAECILIUS THE HUSBAND, TO CAECILIA PLACIDINA, MY WIFE, OF EXCELLETT MEMORY, WITH WHOM I LIVED TEN YEARS WITHOUT ANY QUARREL, IN JESUS CHRIST, SON OF GOD, THE SAVIOUR.
SACRED TO CHRIST THE SUPREME GOD. VITALIS, BURIED ON SATURDAY, KALENDS OF AUGUST, AGED TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS. SHE LIVED WITH HER HUSBAND TEN YEARS AND THIRTY DAYS. IN CHRIST THE FIRST AND THE LAST.
TO DOMNINA, MY SWEETEST AND MOST INNOCENT WIFE, WHO LIVED SIXTEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS, AND WAS MARRIED TWO YEARS FOUR MONTHS AND NINE DAYS: WITH WHOM, I WAS NOT ABLE TO LIVE, ON ACCOUNT OF MY TRAVELING, MORE THAN SIX MONTHS, DURING WHICH TIME I SHEWED HER MY LOVE AS I FELT IT. NONE ELSE SO LOVED EACH OTHER. BURIED ON THE FIFTEENTH BEFORE THE KALENDS OF JUNE.
TO CLAUDIUS, THE WELL-DESERVING AND AFFECTIONATE, WHO LOVED ME. HE LIVED ABOUT TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN CHRIST.
"There is the tribute of a loving father," said Marcellus, as he read the following:
LAURENCE TO HIS SWEETEST SON SEVERUS. BORNE AWAY BY ANGELS ON THE SEVENTH IDES OF JANUARY.
LAURENCE TO HIS SWEETEST SON SEVERUS. BORNE AWAY BY ANGELS ON THE SEVENTH IDES OF JANUARY.
"And here of a wife."
Domiti in Pace Lea Fecit
Domitius in peace, Lea erected this.
"Yes," said Honorius, "the religion of Jesus Christ changes the nature of man, and while it awakens within him love to God, it makes him susceptible of more tender affection to his friends and relatives."
Passing on, they found many epitaphs which exhibited this tender love of departed relatives.
CONSTANTIA, OF WONDERFUL BEAUTY AND AMIABILITY, WHO LIVED EIGHTEEN YEARS SIX MONTHS AND SIXTEEN DAYS. CONSTANTIA IN PEACE.SIMPLICIUS, OF GOOD AND HAPPY MEMORY, WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS AND FORTY-THREE DAYS IN PEACE. HIS BROTHER MADE THIS MONUMENT.TO ADSERTOR OUR SON, DEAR, SWEET MOST INNOCENT, AND INCOMPARABLE, WHO LIVED SEVENTEEN YEARS SIX MONTHS AND EIGHT DAYS. HIS FATHER AND MOTHER SET UP THIS.TO JANUARIUS, SWEET AND GOOD SON, HONORED AND BELOVED BY ALL: WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS FIVE MONTHS AND TWENTY-TWO DAYS.HIS PARENTS LAURINIA, SWEETER THAN HONEY SLEEPS IN PEACE.TO THE HOLY SOUL, INNOCENS, WHO LIVED ABOUT THREE YEARS.DOMITIANUS, AN INNOCENT SOUL, SLEEPS IN PEACE
CONSTANTIA, OF WONDERFUL BEAUTY AND AMIABILITY, WHO LIVED EIGHTEEN YEARS SIX MONTHS AND SIXTEEN DAYS. CONSTANTIA IN PEACE.
SIMPLICIUS, OF GOOD AND HAPPY MEMORY, WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS AND FORTY-THREE DAYS IN PEACE. HIS BROTHER MADE THIS MONUMENT.
TO ADSERTOR OUR SON, DEAR, SWEET MOST INNOCENT, AND INCOMPARABLE, WHO LIVED SEVENTEEN YEARS SIX MONTHS AND EIGHT DAYS. HIS FATHER AND MOTHER SET UP THIS.
TO JANUARIUS, SWEET AND GOOD SON, HONORED AND BELOVED BY ALL: WHO LIVED TWENTY-THREE YEARS FIVE MONTHS AND TWENTY-TWO DAYS.
HIS PARENTS LAURINIA, SWEETER THAN HONEY SLEEPS IN PEACE.
TO THE HOLY SOUL, INNOCENS, WHO LIVED ABOUT THREE YEARS.
DOMITIANUS, AN INNOCENT SOUL, SLEEPS IN PEACE
Val Sabina
"Farewell, O Sabina; she lived viii years, viii months and xxii days,Mayst thou live sweet in God."
IN CHRIST: DIED ON THE KALENDS OF SEPTEMBER, POMPEIANUS THE INNOCENT, WHO LIVED SIX YEARS NINE MONTHS EIGHT DAYS AND FOUR HOURS. HE SLEEPS IN PEACE.TO THEIR DESERVING SON, CALPURNIUS, HIS PARENTS MADE THIS: HE LIVED FIVE YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS AND TEN DAYS, AND DEPARTED IN PEACE ON THE THIRTEENTH OF JUNE.
IN CHRIST: DIED ON THE KALENDS OF SEPTEMBER, POMPEIANUS THE INNOCENT, WHO LIVED SIX YEARS NINE MONTHS EIGHT DAYS AND FOUR HOURS. HE SLEEPS IN PEACE.
TO THEIR DESERVING SON, CALPURNIUS, HIS PARENTS MADE THIS: HE LIVED FIVE YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS AND TEN DAYS, AND DEPARTED IN PEACE ON THE THIRTEENTH OF JUNE.
"Unto the epitaph of this child," said Marcellus, "they have added the symbols of peace and of glory." He pointed to a child's tomb, upon the slab of which was engraved a dove and a laurel crown, together with the following inscription:
RESPECTUS, WHO LIVED FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS, SLEEPS IN PEACE.
RESPECTUS, WHO LIVED FIVE YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS, SLEEPS IN PEACE.
"And this one," continued Marcellus, "has a palm branch, the symbol of victory."
"Yes," said Honorius, "the Saviour has said, 'Suffer little children to come unto me,'" and he read the following inscription:
MACUS, AN INNOCENT BOY. YOU HAVE ALREADY BEGUN TO BE AMONG THE INNOCENT ONES. HOW ENDURING IS SUCH A LIFE TO YOU. HOW GLADLY WILL YOUR MOTHER, THE CHUCH OF GOD, RECEIVE YOU, RETURNING TO THIS WORLD! LET US RESTRAIN OUR GROANS AND CEASE FROM WEEPING.
MACUS, AN INNOCENT BOY. YOU HAVE ALREADY BEGUN TO BE AMONG THE INNOCENT ONES. HOW ENDURING IS SUCH A LIFE TO YOU. HOW GLADLY WILL YOUR MOTHER, THE CHUCH OF GOD, RECEIVE YOU, RETURNING TO THIS WORLD! LET US RESTRAIN OUR GROANS AND CEASE FROM WEEPING.
Their attention was also attracted by epitaphs over the graves of women who had been wives of Christian ministers.
MY WIFE LAURENTIA MADE ME THIS TOMB. SHE WAS EVER SUITED TO MY DISPOSITION, VENERABLE AND FAITHFUL. AT LENGTH DISAPPOINTED ENVY LIES CRUSHED. THE BISHOP LEO SURVIVED HIS EIGHTIETH YEAR.THE PLACE OF BASIL THE PRESBYTER AND HIS FELICITAS. THEY MADE IT FOR THEMSELVES.ONCE THE HAPPY DAUGHTER OF THE PRESBYTER GABINUS, HERE LIES SUSANNA, JOINED WITH HER FATHER IN PEACE.CLAUDIUS ATTICIANUS, A LECTOR, AND CLAUDIA FELICISSIMA HIS WIFE.
MY WIFE LAURENTIA MADE ME THIS TOMB. SHE WAS EVER SUITED TO MY DISPOSITION, VENERABLE AND FAITHFUL. AT LENGTH DISAPPOINTED ENVY LIES CRUSHED. THE BISHOP LEO SURVIVED HIS EIGHTIETH YEAR.
THE PLACE OF BASIL THE PRESBYTER AND HIS FELICITAS. THEY MADE IT FOR THEMSELVES.
ONCE THE HAPPY DAUGHTER OF THE PRESBYTER GABINUS, HERE LIES SUSANNA, JOINED WITH HER FATHER IN PEACE.
CLAUDIUS ATTICIANUS, A LECTOR, AND CLAUDIA FELICISSIMA HIS WIFE.
"I see here," said Marcellus, "a larger tomb. Are two buried here?"
"Yes, this is a 'bisomum,' and two occupy that cell. Read the inscription:"
THE BISOMUM OF SABINUS. HE MADE IT FOR HIMSELF DURING HIS LIFETIME IN THE CEMETERY OF BALBINA IN THE NEW CRYPT.
THE BISOMUM OF SABINUS. HE MADE IT FOR HIMSELF DURING HIS LIFETIME IN THE CEMETERY OF BALBINA IN THE NEW CRYPT.
"Sometimes," continued Honorius, "three are buried in the same grave. In other places, Marcellus, you will see that large numbers are buried; for when persecution rages it is not always possible to pay to each individual the separate attention that is required. Yonder is a tablet that marks the burial place of many martyrs whose names are unknown, but whose memories are blessed." He pointed to, a slab bearing the following inscription:
MARCELLA AND FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MARTYRS OF CHRIST.
MARCELLA AND FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY MARTYRS OF CHRIST.
"Here is a longer one," said Marcellus, "and its words may well find an echo in the hearts of all of us." With deep emotion they read the following:
IN CHRIST. ALEXANDER IS NOT DEAD, BUT LIVES ABOVE THE STARS, AND HIS BODY RESTS IN THIS TOMB. HE ENDED HIS LIFE UNDER THE EMPEROR ANTONINE, WHO, ALTHOUGH HE MIGHT HAVE FORESEEN THAT GREAT BENEFIT WOULD RESULT FROM HIS SERVICES, RENDERED UNTO HIM HATRED INSTEAD OF FAVOR. FOR WHILE ON HIS KNEES, AND ABOUT TO SACRIFICE UNTO THE TRUE GOD, HE WAS LED AWAY TO EXECUTION. O SAD TIMES! IN WHICH EVEN AMONG SACRED RITES AND PRAYERS, NOT EVEN IN CAVERNS COULD WE BE SAFE. WHAT CAN BE MORE WRETCHED THAN SUCH A LIFE? AND WHAT THAN SUCH A DEATH? WHERE THEY CANNOT BE BURIED BY THEIR FRIENDS AND RELATIONS! AT LENGTH THEY SPARKLE IN HEAVEN. HE HAS SCARCELY LIVED WHO HAS LIVED IN CHRISTIAN TIMES.
IN CHRIST. ALEXANDER IS NOT DEAD, BUT LIVES ABOVE THE STARS, AND HIS BODY RESTS IN THIS TOMB. HE ENDED HIS LIFE UNDER THE EMPEROR ANTONINE, WHO, ALTHOUGH HE MIGHT HAVE FORESEEN THAT GREAT BENEFIT WOULD RESULT FROM HIS SERVICES, RENDERED UNTO HIM HATRED INSTEAD OF FAVOR. FOR WHILE ON HIS KNEES, AND ABOUT TO SACRIFICE UNTO THE TRUE GOD, HE WAS LED AWAY TO EXECUTION. O SAD TIMES! IN WHICH EVEN AMONG SACRED RITES AND PRAYERS, NOT EVEN IN CAVERNS COULD WE BE SAFE. WHAT CAN BE MORE WRETCHED THAN SUCH A LIFE? AND WHAT THAN SUCH A DEATH? WHERE THEY CANNOT BE BURIED BY THEIR FRIENDS AND RELATIONS! AT LENGTH THEY SPARKLE IN HEAVEN. HE HAS SCARCELY LIVED WHO HAS LIVED IN CHRISTIAN TIMES.
"This," said Honorius, "is the resting place of a well loved brother, whose memory is still cherished in all the Churches. Around this tomb we shall hold the 'Agape' upon the anniversary of his birthday. At this feast the barriers of different classes and ranks, of different kindreds and tribes and tongues and peoples, are all broken down. We are all brethren in Christ Jesus, for we remember that as Christ loved us, so ought we also to love one another."
In this walk Marcellus had ample opportunity to witness the presence of that fraternal love to which Honorius alluded. He encountered men, women, and children of every rank and of every age. Men who had filled the highest stations in Rome associated in friendly intercourse with those who were scarcely above the level of slaves; those who had once been cruel and relentless persecutors, now associated in pleasant union with the former objects of their hate. The Jewish priest, released from the fetters of bigotry and stubborn pride, walked hand in hand with the once hated Gentile. The Greek had beheld the foolishness of the Gospel transformed into infinite wisdom, and the contempt which he had once felt for the followers of Jesus had given place to tender affection. Selfishness and ambition, haughtiness and envy, all the baser passions of human life, seemed to have fled before the almighty power of Christian love. The religion of Christ dwelt in their hearts in all its fullness, and its blessed influences were seen here as they might not be witnessed elsewhere; not because its nature or its power had been changed for their sakes, but because the universal persecution which pressed on all alike had robbed them of earthly possessions, cut them off from earthly temptations, and by the great sympathy of common suffering had forced them closer to one another.
A Passage in the Catacombs
"The worship of the true God," said Honorius, "differs in one respect from all false worship. The heathen must enter into his temple, and there through the medium of the priest offer up his prayers and his sacrifice. But for us Christ has made a sacrifice once for all. Every one of his followers can now approach God for himself, for each one is made, through Jesus, a king and a priest unto God. To us, then, it is a matter of no moment, as far as worship is concerned, whether our chapels are left unto us, or whether we are banished from them out of the sight of earth. Heaven is the throne of God and the universe is his temple, and each one of his children can lift up his voice from any place and at any time to worship the Father."
Marcellus's journey extended for a long time and for a great distance. Prepared as he was to find a great extent, he was still astonished at its vastness. The half had not been told him! and though he had traversed so much, he was told that this was but a fraction of the whole extent. The average height of the passage ways was about eight feet, but in many places it rose to twelve or fifteen feet. Then the frequent chapels and rooms which had been formed by widening the arches gave greater space to the inhabitants, and made it possible for them to live and move in greater freedom. In some places, also, there were narrow openings in the roof, through which faint rays of light passed from the upper air. These were chosen as places for resort, but not for living. The presence of the blessed light of day, however faint, was pleasant beyond expression, and served in some slight degree to mitigate the surrounding gloom.
Marcellus saw some places which had been walled up forming a sudden termination to the passage way, but other paths branched off and encircled them and went on as before. "What is this place which is thus inclosed?" he asked.
"It is a Roman tomb," said Honorius. "On excavating this passage the workmen struck upon it, so they stopped and walled up the place and carried on their excavation around it. It was not from the fear of disturbing the tomb, but because in death, no less than in life, the Christian desires to follow the command of his Lord, and 'come out from among them and be separate.'"
"Persecution rages around us and shuts us in," said Marcellus. "How long shall the people of God be scattered, how long shall the enemy distress us?"
"Such are the cries of many among us," said Honorius, "but it is wrong to complain. The Lord has been good to his people. Throughout the empire they have gone on for many generations protected by the laws and unmolested. True, we have had terrible persecutions, in which thousands have died in agony, but these again have passed away and left the Church in peace.
"All the persecutions which we have yet received have served only to purify the hearts of the people of God and exalt their faith. He knows what is best for us. We are in his hands, and he will give us no more than we can bear. Let us be sober and watch and pray, O Marcellus, for the present storm tells us plainly that the great and terrible day so long expected is at hand."
Thus Marcellus walked about with Honorius, conversing and learning new things every hour about the doctrines of God's truth and the experiences of his people. The sight of their love, their purity, their fortitude, their faith, sank deeply into his soul.
The experience which he too had felt was not transient. Every new sight but strengthened his desire to unite himself with the faith and fortunes of the people of God. Accordingly, before the following Lord's day he was baptized in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
On the morning of the Lord's day he sat around the table of the Lord in company with other Christians. There they held that simple and affecting ceremony by which the Christians showed forth the death of Jesus. Honorius offered up the prayer for blessing on the repast. And for the first time Marcellus partook of the wine and the bread, the sacred symbols of the body and blood of his dying Lord.
"And when they had sung a hymn, they went out."
CHAPTER VII.
THE CONFESSION OF FAITH.
"Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution."
Four days had elapsed since the young soldier had left his chamber. Eventful days they had been to him; days full of infinite importance. Endless weal or woe had hung upon their issue. But the search of this earnest soul after the truth had not been in vain.
His resolution had been taken. On the one side lay fame, honor, and wealth; on the other, poverty, want, and woe; yet he had made his choice, and turned to the latter without a moment's hesitation. He chose rather to suffer affliction with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season.
Upon his return he visited the general and reported himself. He informed him that he had been among the Christians, that he could not execute his commission, and was willing to take the consequences. The general sternly ordered him to his quarters.
Here in the midst of deep meditation, while, conjecturing what might be the issue of all this, he was interrupted by the entrance of Lucullus. His friend greeted him most affectionately, but was evidently full of anxiety.
"I have just seen the general," said he, "who sent for me to give me a message for you. But first tell me what is this that you have done?"
Marcellus then related everything from the time he had left until his return, concealing nothing whatever. His deep earnestness showed how strong and true the impression was that had been made upon him. He then related his interview with his general.
"I entered the room feeling the importance of the step I was taking. I was about to commit an act of virtual treason, a crime which can only be punished with death. Yet I could do nothing else.
"He received me graciously, for he thought that I had met with some important success in my search. I told him that since I left I had been among the Christians, and from what I had seen of them I had been forced to change my feelings toward them. I had thought that they were enemies of the state and worthy of death, but I found that they were loyal subjects of the emperor and virtuous men. I could never use my sword against such as these, and rather than do so I would give it up.
"'A soldier's feelings,' said he, 'have no right to interfere with his duties.'
"'But my duties to the God who made me are stronger than any which I owe to man.'
"'Has your sympathy with the Christians made you mad?' said he. 'Do you not know that this is treason?'
"I bowed, and said that I would take the consequences.
"'Rash youth,' he cried sternly, 'go to your quarters, and I will communicate to you my decision.'
"And so I came here at once, and have been here ever since then, anxiously awaiting my sentence."
Lucullus had listened to the whole of Marcellus's recital without a word or even a gesture. An expression of sad surprise upon his face told what his feelings were. He spoke in a mournful tone as Marcellus ended.
"And what that sentence must be you certainly know as well as I. Roman discipline, even in ordinary times, can never be trifled with, but now the feelings of the government are excited to an unusual degree against these Christians. If you persist in your present course you must fall."
"I have told you all my reasons."
"I know, Marcellus, your pure and sincere nature. You have always been of a devout mind. You have loved the noble teachings of philosophy. Can you not satisfy yourself with these as before? Why should you be attracted by the wretched doctrine of a crucified Jew?"
"I have never been satisfied with the philosophy of which you speak. You yourself know that there is nothing certain in it on which the soul may trust. But the Christian religion is the truth of God, brought down by himself, and sanctified by his own death."
"You have thoroughly explained the whole Christian creed to me. Your own enthusiasm has made it appear attractive, I will confess; and if all its followers were really like yourself my dear Marcellus, it might be adapted to bless the world. But I come not here to argue upon religion. I come to speak about yourself. You are in danger, my dear friend; your station, your honor, your office, your very life is at stake. Consider what you have done. An important commission was intrusted to you, upon the execution of which you set out. It was expected that you would return bringing important information. But instead of this you come back and inform the general that you have gone over to the enemy, that you are one of them in heart, and that you refuse to bear arms against them. If the soldier is free to choose whom he will fight what becomes of discipline? He must obey orders. Am I right?"
"You are, Lucullus."
"The question for you to decide is not whether you will choose philosophy or Christianity, but whether you will be a Christian or a soldier. For as the times are now you see that it is impossible for you to be a soldier and a Christian at the same time. One of the two must be given up. And not only so, but if you decide upon being a Christian you must at once share their fate, for no distinction can be made in favor of you. On the other hand, if you continue a soldier you must fight against the Christians."
"That is no doubt the question."
"You have warm friends who are willing to forget your great offense, Marcellus. I know your enthusiastic nature, and I have pleaded with the general for you. He too respects you for your soldierly qualities. He is willing to forgive you under certain circumstances."
"What are they?"
"The most merciful of all conditions. Let the past four days be forgotten. Banish them from your memory. Resume your commission. Take your soldiers and go at once about your duty in arresting these Christians."
"Lucullus," said Marcellus, rising from his seat with folded arms, "I love you as a friend, I am grateful for your faithful affection. Never can I forget it. But I have that within me to which you are a stranger, which is stronger than all honors of state. It is the love of God. For this I am ready, to give up all, honor, rank, and life itself. My decision is irrevocable. I am a Christian."
For a moment Lucullus sat in astonishment and grief looking at his friend. He was well acquainted with his resolute soul, and saw with pain how completely his persuasions had failed. At length he spoke again. He used every argument that he could think of. He brought forward every motive that might influence him. He told him of the terrible fate that awaited him, and the peculiar vengeance that would be directed against him. But all his words were completely useless. At length he rose in deep sadness.
"Marcellus," he said, "you tempt fate. You are rushing madly upon a terrible destiny. Everything that fortune can bestow is before you, but you turn away from all to cast your lot among wretched outcasts. I have done the duty of a friend in trying to turn you from your folly, but all that I can do is of no avail.
"I have brought you the sentence of the general. You are degraded from office. You are put under arrest as a Christian. To-morrow you will be seized and handed over to punishment. But many hours are yet before you, and I may still have the mournful satisfaction of assisting you to escape. Fly then at once. Hasten, for there is no time to lose. There is only one place in the world where you can be secure from the vengeance of Caesar."