CHAPTER VI.
GOTHS AND CHRISTIANS.
Cornelius was full of his subject, and did not attend to the Greek. "Thewild-beasts hunts," he continued, "ah, those hunts during the games,Aristo! they were a spectacle for the gods. Twenty-two elephants, tenpanthers, ten hyaenas (by-the-bye, a new beast, not strange, however, toyou here, I suppose), ten camelopards, a hippopotamus, a rhinoceros--Ican't go through the list. Fancy the circus planted throughout for theoccasion, and turned into a park, and then another set of wild animals,Getes and Sarmatians, Celts and Goths, sent in against them, to hunt down,capture and kill them, or to be killed themselves."
"Ah, the Goths!" answered Aristo; "those fellows give you trouble, though,now and then. Perhaps they will give you more. There is a report in thepraetorium to-day that they have crossed the Danube."
"Yes, they _will_ give us trouble," said Cornelius, drily; "they _have_given us trouble, and they will give us more. The Samnites gave ustrouble, and our friends of Carthage here, and Jugurtha, and Mithridates;trouble, yes, that is the long and the short of it; they will give ustrouble. Is trouble a new thing to Rome?" he asked, stretching out hisarm, as if he were making a speech after dinner, and giving a toast.
"The Goths give trouble, and take a bribe," retorted Aristo; "this is whattrouble means in their case: it's a troublesome fellow who hammers at ourdoor till we pay his reckoning. It is troublesome to raise the means tobuy them off. And the example of these troublesome savages is catching; itwas lately rumoured that the Carpians had been asking the same terms forkeeping quiet."
"It would ill become the majesty of Rome to soil her fingers with theblood of such vermin," said Cornelius; "she ignores them."
"And therefore she most majestically bleeds us instead," answered Aristo,"that she may have treasure to give them. We are not so troublesome asthey; the more's the pity. No offence to you, however, or to the emperor,or to great Rome, Cornelius. We are over our cups; it's only a game ofpolitics, you know, like chess or the _cottabus_. Maro bids you 'parceresubjectis, et debellare superbos;' but you have changed your manners. Youcoax the Goths and bully the poor African."
"Africa can show fight, too," interposed Jucundus, who had been calmlylistening and enjoying his own wine; "witness Thysdrus. That was givingevery rapacious Quaestor a lesson that he may go too far, and find a daggerwhen he demands a purse."
He was alluding to the revolt of Africa, which led to the downfall of thetyrant Maximin and the exaltation of the Gordians, when the nativelandlords armed their peasantry, killed the imperial officer, and raisedthe standard of rebellion in the neighbouring town from impatience ofexactions under which they suffered.
"No offence, I say, Cornelius, no offence to eternal Rome," said Aristo,"but you have explained to us why you weigh so heavy on us. I've alwaysheard it was a fortune at Rome for a man to have found out a new tax.Vespasian did his best; but now you tax our smoke, and our very shadow;and Pescennius threatened to tax the air we breathe. We'll play atriddles, and you shall solve the following:--Say who is she that eats herown limbs, and grows eternal upon them? Ah, the Goths will take themeasure of her eternity!"
"The Goths!" said Jucundus, who was warming into conversational life, "theGoths! no fear of the Goths; but," and he nodded significantly, "look athome; we have more to fear indoors than abroad."
"He means the praetorians," said Cornelius to Aristo, condescendingly; "Igrant you that there have been several untoward affairs; we have had ourproblem, but it's a thing of the past, it never can come again. I ventureto say that the power of the praetorians is at an end. That murder of thetwo emperors the other day was the worst job they ever did; it has turnedthe public opinion of the whole world against them. I have no fear of thepraetorians."
"I don't mean praetorians more than Goths," said Jucundus; "no, give me theold weapons, the old maxims of Rome, and I defy the scythe of Saturn. Dothe soldiers march under the old ensign? do they swear by the old gods? dothey interchange the good old signals and watchwords? do they worship thefortune of Rome; then I say we are safe. But do we take to new ways? do wetrifle with religion? do we make light of Jupiter, Mars, Romulus, theaugurs, and the ancilia? then I say, not all our shows and games, ourelephants, hyaenas, and hippopotamuses, will do us any good. It was not thebest thing, no, not the best thing that the soldiers did, when theyinvested that Philip with the purple. But he is dead and gone." And he satup and leant on his elbow.
"Ah! but it will be all set right now," said Cornelius, "_you'll_ see."
"He'd be a reformer, that Philip," continued Jucundus, "and put down anenormity. Well, they call it an enormity; let it be an enormity. He'd putit down; but why? there's the point; why? It's no secret at all," and hisvoice grew angry, "that that hoary-headed Atheist Fabian was at the bottomof it; Fabian, the Christian. I hate reforms."
"Well, we had long wished to do it," answered Cornelius, "but could notmanage it. Alexander attempted it near twenty years ago. It's whatphilosophers have always aimed at."
"The gods consume philosophers and the Christians together!" said Jucundusdevoutly. "There's little to choose between them, except that theChristians are the filthier animal of the two. But both are ruining themost glorious political structure that the world ever saw. I am notover-fond of Alexander either."
"Thank you in the name of philosophy," said the Greek.
"And thank you in the name of the Christians," chimed in Juba.
"That's good!" cried Jucundus; "the first word that hopeful youth hasspoken since he came in, and he takes on him to call himself a Christian."
"I've a right to do so, if I choose," said Juba; "I've a right to be aChristian."
"Right! O yes, right! ha, ha!" answered Jucundus, "right! Jove help thelad! by all manner of means. Of course, you have a right to go _in malamrem_ in whatever way you please."
"I am my own master," said Juba; "my father was a Christian. I suppose itdepends on myself to follow him or not, according to my fancy, and as longas I think fit."
"Fancy! think fit!" answered Jucundus, "you pompous little mule! Yes, goand be a Christian, my dear child, as your doting father went. Go, likehim, to the priest of their mysteries; be spit on, stripped, dipped; feedon little boys' marrow and brains; worship the ass; and learn all the foulmagic of the sect. And then be delated and taken up, and torn to shreds onthe rack, or thrown to the lions and so go to Tartarus, if Tartarus therebe, in the way you think fit. You'll harm none but yourself, my boy. Idon't fear such as you, but the deeper heads."
Juba stood up with a look of offended dignity, and, as on formeroccasions, tossed the head which had been by implication disparaged. "Idespise you," he said.
"Well, but you are hard on the Christians," said Aristo. "I have heardthem maintain that their superstition, if adopted, would be the salvationof Rome. They maintain that the old religion is gone or going out; thatsomething new is wanted to keep the empire together; and that theirworship is just fitted to the times."
"All I say to the vipers," said Jucundus, "is, 'Let well alone. We didwell enough without you; we did well enough till you sprang up.' A plagueon their insolence; as if Jew or Egyptian could do aught for us when Numaand the Sibyl fail. That is what I say, Let Rome be true to herself andnothing can harm her; let her shift her foundation, and I would not buyher for this water-melon," he said, taking a suck at it. "Rome alone canharm Rome. Recollect old Horace, 'Suis et ipsa Roma viribus ruit.' He wasa prophet. If she falls, it is by her own hand."
"I agree," said Cornelius; "certainly, to set up any new worship istreason; not a doubt of it. The gods keep us from such ingratitude! Wehave grown great by means of them, and they are part and parcel of the lawof Rome. But there is no great chance of our forgetting this; Deciuswon't; that's a fact. You will see. Time will show; perhaps to-morrow,perhaps next day," he added, mysteriously.
"Why in the world should you have this frantic dread of these poorscarecrows of Christians," said A
risto, "all because they hold an opinion?Why are you not afraid of the bats and the moles? It's an opinion: therehave been other opinions before them, and there will be other opinionsafter. Let them alone and they'll die away; make a hubbub about them andthey'll spread."
"Spread?" cried Jucundus, who was under the twofold excitement of personalfeeling and of wine, "spread, they'll spread? yes, they'll spread. Yes,grow, like scorpions, twenty at a birth. The country already swarms withthem; they are as many as frogs or grasshoppers; they start up everywhereunder one's nose, when one least expects them. The air breeds them likeplague-flies; the wind drifts them like locusts. No one's safe; any onemay be a Christian; it's an epidemic. Great Jove! _I_ may be a Christianbefore I know where I am. Heaven and earth! is it not monstrous?" hecontinued, with increasing fierceness. "Yes, Jucundus, my poor man, youmay wake and find yourself a Christian, without knowing it, against yourwill. Ah! my friends, pity me! I may find myself a beast, and obliged tosuck blood and live among the tombs as if I liked it, without power totell you how I loathe it, all through their sorcery. By the genius of Romesomething must be done. I say, no one is safe. You call on your friend; heis sitting in the dark, unwashed, uncombed, undressed. What is the matter?Ah! his son has turned Christian. Your wedding-day is fixed, you areexpecting your bride; she does not come; why? she will not have you; shehas become a Christian. Where's young Nomentanus? Who has seen Nomentanus?in the forum, or the campus, in the circus, in the bath? Has he caught theplague or got a sunstroke? Nothing of the kind; the Christians have caughthold of him. Young and old, rich and poor, my lady in her litter and herslave, modest maid and Lydia at the Thermae, nothing comes amiss to them.All confidence is gone; there's no one we can reckon on. I go to mytailor's: 'Nergal,' I say to him, 'Nergal, I want a new tunic,' Thewretched hypocrite bows, and runs to and fro, and unpacks his stuffs andcloths, like another man. A word in your ear. The man's a Christian,dressed up like a tailor. They have no dress of their own. If I wereemperor, I'd make the sneaking curs wear a badge, I would; a dog's collar,a fox's tail, or a pair of ass's ears. Then we should know friends fromfoes when we meet them."
"We should think that dangerous," said Cornelius; "however, you are takingit too much to heart; you are making too much of them, my good friend.They have not even got the present, and you are giving them the future,which is just what they want."
"If Jucundus will listen to me," said Aristo, "I could satisfy him thatthe Christians are actually falling off. They once were numerous in thisvery place; now there are hardly any. They have been declining for thesefifty years; the danger from them is past. Do you want to know how torevive them? Put out an imperial edict, forbid them, denounce them. Do youwant them to drop away like autumn leaves? Take no notice of them."
"I can't deny that in Italy they _have_ grown," said Cornelius; "they_have_ grown in numbers and in wealth, and they intermarry with us. Thusthe upper class becomes to a certain extent infected. We may find itnecessary to repress them; but, as you would repress vermin, withoutfearing them."
"The worshippers of the gods are the many, and the Christians are thefew," persisted Aristo; "if the two parties intermarry, the weaker willget the worst of it. You will find the statues of the gods graduallycreeping back into the Christian chapel; and a man must be an honestfellow who buys our images, eh, Jucundus?"
"Well, Aristo," said the paterfamilias, whose violence never lasted long,"if your sister's bright eyes win back my poor Agellius you will havesomething more to say for yourself than, at present, I grant."
"I see," said Cornelius, gravely, "I begin to understand it. I could notmake out why our good host had such great fear for the stability of Rome.But it is one of those things which the experience of life has taught me.I have often seen it in the imperial city itself. Whenever you find a manshow special earnestness against these fanatics, depend on it there issomething that touches him personally in the matter. There was a verygreat man, the present Flamen Dialis, for whom I have unbounded respect;for a long time I was at a loss to conceive why a person of his weight,sound, sensible, well-judging, should have such a fear of the Christians.One day he made an oration against them in the senate-house; he wanted tosend them to the rack. But the secret came out; the good man was on therack himself about his daughter, who persisted in calling herself aChristian, and refused to paint her face or go to the amphitheatre. To besure, a most trying affair this for the old gentleman. The venerable PaterPatratus, too, what suppers he gave! a fine specimen of the Lucullus type;yet he was always advocating the lictor and the _commentariensis_ in theinstance of the Christian. No wonder; his wife and son were disgracing himin the eyes of the whole world by frequenting the meetings of theseChristians. However, I agree with Decius, they must be put down. They arenot formidable, but they are an eyesore."
Here the rushing of the water-clock which measured time in theneighbouring square, ceased, signifying thereby that the night was gettingon. Juba had already crept into the dark closet which served him for asleeping-place; had taken off his sandals, and loosened his belt; hadwrapt the serpent he had about him round his neck, and was breathingheavily. Jucundus made the parting libation, and Cornelius took his leave.Aristo rose too; and Jucundus, accompanying them to the entrance, paid thenot uncommon penalty of his potations, for the wine mounted to his head,and he returned into the room, and sat him down again with an impressionthat Aristo was still at table.
"My dear boy," he said, "Agellius is but a wet Christian; that's all, notobstinate, like his brother there. 'Twas his father; the less we say abouthim the better; he's gone. The Furies make his bed for him! an odious set!Their priests, little ugly men. I saw one when I was a boy at Carthage. Sounlike your noble Roman Saliares, or your fine portly priest of Isis, cladin white, breathing odours like spring flowers; men who enjoyed this life,not like that sour hypocrite. He was as black as an Ethiopian, and aswithered as a Saracen, and he never looked you in the face. And, afterall, the fellow must die for his religion, rather than put a few grains ofgolden incense on the altar of great Jove. Jove's the god for me; aglorious, handsome, curly god--but they are all good, all the gods aregood. There's Bacchus, he's a good, comfortable god, though a sly,treacherous fellow--a treacherous fellow. There's Ceres, too; Pomona; theMuses; Astarte, too, as they call her here; all good;--and Apollo, thoughhe's somewhat too hot in this season, and too free with his bow. He gaveme a bad fever once. Ah! life's precious, most precious; so I felt itthen, when I was all but gone to Pluto. Life never returns, it's likewater spilt; you can't gather it up. It is dispersed into the elements, tothe four winds. Ah! there's something more there than I can tell; morethan all your philosophers can determine."
He seemed to think awhile, and began again: "Enjoyment's the great rule;ask yourself, 'Have I made the most of things?' that's what I say to therising generation. Many and many's the time when I have not turned them tothe best account. Oh, if I had now to begin life again, how many thingsshould I correct! I might have done better this evening. Those abominablepears! I might have known they would not be worth the eating. Mutton, thatwas all well; doves, good again; crane, kid; well, I don't see that Icould have done much better."
After a few minutes he got up half asleep, and put out all the lights butone small lamp, with which he made his way into his own bed-closet. "Allis vanity," he continued, with a slow, grave utterance, "all is vanity buteating and drinking. It does not pay to serve the gods except for this.What's fame? what's glory? what's power? smoke. I've often thought the hogis the only really wise animal. We should be happier if we were all hogs.Hogs keep the end of life steadily in view; that's why those toads ofChristians will not eat them, lest they should get like them. Quiet,respectable, sensible enjoyment; not riot, or revel, or excess, orquarrelling. Life is short." And with this undeniable sentiment he fellasleep.
Callista : a Tale of the Third Century Page 8