by F. W. Farrar
CHAPTER LII
_ALITURUS AMONG THE CHRISTIANS_
??? ?? ?????? ????????????, ??????? ?? ??? ???????, ????????? ??? ??????, ??????????? ??? ??????.--S. Pauli I. ad Cor. xiv. 24.
Aliturus did not find it easy to fulfil his promise. Ishmael BenPhabi, stimulated by Sadducean hatred, made every inquiry among theJews of Rome, and learnt much that was useful to him. Josephus, whohad no special hatred against the Christians, but wished to knowmore about them, because, as a Pharisee, he was interested in theirdoctrine of the Resurrection, was able to give him some useful hints.Esther, a Jewish freedwoman of Nero, wife of Arescusus, was stillmore serviceable. At one time she had been drawn to the Christians bytheir sanctity of life, but she was an intense enthusiast of Mosaism,and, shocked by the views of gentile converts respecting the nullityof the Law, she had felt the reaction of antipathy against them.[96]But Primitivus, who had succeeded Phlegon (the lover of the epilepticgirl Syra), as keeper of the Spoliarium, gave him the key he needed.Primitivus, in his work at the amphitheatre, had more than once comein contact with Christians, and Phlegon had told him what he hadheard about them from Syra. He revealed to Aliturus the mysticwatchword of the Fish.
Armed with this watchword, the actor managed to establish relationswith Philetus, a slave of dubious character, who had nominally joinedthe Christians because he found among them a sympathy and a kindnesswhich he had forfeited in his gentile surroundings. This thanklesstraitor conducted him one evening, in the disguise of an Ephesianmerchant, into the remote sand-pit where the Christians held theirlargest gatherings.
He found himself in an assembly of at least a thousand persons, whohad come by various roundabout obscure paths. A narrow opening ledto the half-subterranean place of rendezvous, and this was stronglyguarded by a body of Christian youths, who challenged and scrutinisedevery comer. As they entered, the worshippers extinguished theirlamps and torches, and the vast space was in complete darkness,except that a few lights glimmered in its deepest recesses. Alituruswas accustomed to scenes of hardened wickedness, but he shuddered inexpectation of the nameless horrors which pagan slander led him tosuppose he would witness. How deep was his astonishment at the order,the decorum, the innocent fervour, the holy devotion, the almostchildlike simplicity of the entire ceremony! Truly these men andwomen were no orgiastic rioters! Linus was in the chair of the chiefpastor, and he was assisted by Cletus and other presbyters. Sometimeshe offered up prayers for all, sometimes the whole assembly joined incommon prayer, and the deep ‘Amen’ swelled like the sound of a mightywave. They joined in hymns addressed to God and to Christ, and thenthe assembly was swept by the indescribable emotion of SpiritualPresence which found vent in speaking in the Tongue. But there wasnothing disorderly or tumultuous in the manifestations, for theworshippers had taken to heart the warnings which Paul had givento the Church of Corinth. The pantomimist was struck with theawful depth and penetrative force of those strange sounds, which noskill of his--trained as he had been for years--would enable him toreproduce. When some rose to interpret the mysterious utterances, heheard many allusions to Babylon--which his Jewish origin made himrecognise as a cryptogram for Rome--and references to the recentfire. But it was only spoken of as an awful judgment of God, a signof Christ’s second Advent, a prelude to the conflagration of theworld. He heard nothing wicked, nothing seditious. On the contrary,every exhortation inculcated innocence and purity of life; andprayers were offered for the Emperor, and all in authority. In Romansociety he had heard many a bitter jest, many a mordant innuendoaimed at the Emperor, by men who were too vain to conceal theirsarcasms, even when they were perilous.[97] But here he heard nosuch objurgations. When the interpretation of tongues was over,Linus rose to address his flock.
He spoke first of the conflagration, and of all the disasters whichthey had recently witnessed. He alluded with many tears to thebrethren who had perished in the burning streets, or lay buried underthe ruins of fallen houses, and he bade them not to sorrow as menwithout hope, since the dead who die in the Lord were blessed. Howfar more awful was the fate of those worshippers of false gods, whohad lived in defiant wickedness, and who, instead of passing fromlife to life, had passed from death unto death, and a fiery lookingfor of judgment! One practical duty he pressed upon them. Most ofthem were poor; but God had given them the true riches. And now thatso many of their brethren were left destitute, it was their duty toshow that they believed the words of the Lord Jesus, that it is moreblessed to give than to receive. The heathen said, ‘See how theseChristians love one another.’ Yes, they loved one another, and allwho were of the household of faith; but let them also be kind andgentle to those who treated them despitefully, remembering Him whohad said, ‘I say unto you, “Love your enemies.”’
From this topic he passed to the duty of watchfulness. All aroundthem lay the kingdom of Satan and of darkness. They knew itsgrossness, its misery. Their beloved Apostle Paul had painted itfor them to the life in his letter to their Church. ‘Be sober, then,’he said, ‘be vigilant! Already there are wars and rumours of wars,and earthquakes, and famines, the sea and the waves roaring, andmen’s hearts failing them for fear of the things coming on theearth. Is not the mighty calamity which we have witnessed one of thebirth-throes of the Messiah? Love not the world, therefore, brethren,nor the things of the world. Count the things that are, as thoughthey are not. For, speaking in the Spirit, I tell you that very soonwill the great tribulation begin, which must be before the end. Butye know the words of the Master, “He that shall endure to the end,the same shall be saved.”’
A deep murmur rose from the multitude, and many wept at the thoughtof coming woes. But they did not shrink from the peril of thatbaptism of blood which they knew would be to them the portal ofsalvation, and the murmur swelled into an Hosanna and a Hallelujahwhich rang with steadfastness and exultation.
Then Cletus, the second presbyter, rose and said: ‘Our father Linushas spoken. He has warned us that evil days are at hand. Already itis whispered, we cannot tell by whom, that _our_ hands kindled thisgreat conflagration. You know, brethren, that we would rather diethan be guilty of such a monstrous crime. But at the bar of theGentiles innocence will not avail us; nor will pity touch the heartsof our enemies in Babylon, where Satan’s throne is. But though a hostshould encamp against us, yet will we not be afraid. He who set Hisangel to stand by the three children in the furnace; He who savedDaniel from the lions, and Jonah in the belly of the whale, will notforsake us. We thank God in this great crisis that Paul, the Apostleto us Gentiles, has been set free. He knew not what was coming, or hewould have stayed with us; but John the beloved is on his way to us,and he will comfort us in all our afflictions.’
At the close of his address, young men, clad in white, of modestdemeanour, went round among the worshippers and received in earthenvessels the humble contributions of men and women, of whom not afew were themselves in deep poverty. Aliturus, moved to an extent ofwhich he could give no account, dropped into the vessel every pieceof gold which he had with him, and amazed those who afterwardscounted the offerings. With uplifted arms and solemn voice, Linuspronounced the benediction. Lanterns and torches were rekindled, andsilently, in twos and threes, by the same secret paths, the multitudemelted away.
But as he made his way home with the attendant slave, the heart ofAliturus burned within him. He had come to curse and to betray; hewent back blessing these Christians altogether. How unlike was thereality to the lies which he had confidently believed! These men andwomen, whose name was the synonym of malefactor--those of whom thescum of the Forum spoke as incestuous cannibals--they were innocent,they were holy! they alone were innocent, they alone were holy!Aliturus had heard the philosophers talking together. How hard andunnatural were their doctrines; how inconsistent their lives; howhopeless their aspirations; how hollow their vaunts of blessednesscompared with those of these men! Among these was happiness, orit was nowhere. He had seen palaces--their gilded misery, theirmonotonous weariness, their reckles
s guilt--he had experienced theemptiness of that intoxicating fame which shouted in the voice ofinnumerable spectators. Alas, alas! what a bubble was the life ofthe gentile world, and what spectres followed those who chased it!
His thoughts went back to the days of a childhood spent in Hebronunder the rustling boughs of the oak of Mamre. Happier for himhad he lived and died in his native Palestine, unknown, innocent,faithful to the religion of his people. But his grandfather had beenimplicated in the tearing down of the golden eagle, instigated by thetwo bold young Rabbis Judas and Matthias, in the days of Herod theGreat, and had been put to death. His father had struggled in vainagainst adversity, and his widowed mother, left in utter destitution,had died of a broken heart. Penniless and an orphan, the boy had beencarried down to Gaza by a villanous agent of Herod, and had been soldto a Roman slave-dealer. This trader in human flesh had seen in himthe promise of extraordinary beauty, which would enable him to repayhimself in a few years a hundred times over the paltry sum which hehad paid for the Jewish orphan. He kept him with care, fed him well,had him taught Greek, and gave him an artistic education--not fromany feelings of kindness, but solely with a view to ultimate gain. Hekept him apart from the other slave-boys of his shop, who were meantfor less luxurious destinies, and would only command moderate pricesas grooms or foot-boys. They, with chalked feet, were exposed forsale on the public _catasta_ in sight of every passer-by, and couldbe purchased for little more than five hundred sesterces; but thosewho wished to see the brilliant Aliturus must be persons of wealthand distinction, who were admitted into the inner apartments, andwho would be willing to pay at least eight thousand sesterces. He hadbeen purchased by the wealthy and luxurious Sulla, who, charmed byhis vivacity, grace, and genius, saw a means of enriching himself byhaving him trained as a pantomime. During these years Aliturus hadnot only seen the darkest side of pagan life, but had grown familiarwith its viciousness in every form. Abandoning the religion of Moses,he had found no other in its place, and lived only for the present.On the stage he had rapidly surpassed all competitors, with theexception of Paris, who shared with him the position of a favouriteof the Roman people. The large sums of money which he amassed by hisart enabled him to purchase his freedom before he was twenty-three;and, in a career of unchecked outward prosperity he had become afamiliar inmate of the noblest patrician houses, and even of theimperial circle. For some years he had been the favourite of all thegilded youth, the darling of the Roman ladies. But the faith of hischildhood still hung about him. Amid the giddiest whirl of vice andpleasure, he still felt in his heart an aching void; and the eventsof this evening had revealed to him not only how aching the void was,but also the misery and failure in which his life would end, with novista beyond it save the darkness of the grave. Often before, in hislonelier moments, he had seen virtue and pined for its loss; but nowthat pure ideal shone before him with a more heavenly lustre, andremorse pierced him like a sword.
He awaited the next gathering of the Christians with feverishimpatience--not with his first purpose of accumulating evidence fortheir extirpation, but rather for the sake of his own soul and thathe might leave no stone unturned to save them. He was also deeplyanxious to see him whom Cletus had described as ‘John the beloved.’He longed to hear more of the Master whom the Christians worshippedwith such passionate devotion, and to know wherein lay the secrets ofthe hope which He had kindled, of the peace which He had bequeathed,of the righteousness which He had placed within reach of attainment,not only by the noble and the learned, but by the despised and bypaupers and by slaves.
It was to him a time of anxiety and trial. He had to act that weekone of his favourite, most exciting, and most unworthy parts. Hewas pledged to it; myriads were expecting to see him in it; hehad already received for it a large sum of money from Varro, thepresident of the games, and he had neither the courage to withdrawfrom it nor any appreciable excuse for doing so. He acted it withall his accustomed supremacy of skill, but he acted it mechanicallyand with a wounded conscience; and he listened to the thunders ofapplause which his grace evoked with loathing for himself and forhis degraded audience. He returned to his house physically weary,but even more mentally prostrate, and, flinging himself on a couch,turned his face to the wall and wept. A summons from the Palaceforced him to rouse himself, to put on a court dress, and assumehis usual aspect of easy gaiety.[*16] Nero asked him with feverisheagerness whether he had succeeded in tracking the Christians totheir haunts, and what evidence he had been able to collect againstthem.
‘Give me time, Cæsar,’ he said. ‘I went three days ago to theirassembly and I heard nothing which could be construed into sedition,and I saw nothing to their discredit. I am driven to disbelieve whatI told you about them.’
‘They are sly foxes,’ said Nero. ‘Poppæa has heard more about themfrom the Jew Josephus. You are not initiated into their mysteries,so that you did not really see what they are.’
‘And what matters it what they are?’ said Tigellinus. ‘We must have_some_ criminals to accuse of having caused the fire; and who sohandy as this secret, morose, man-hating, child-killing, flesh-eatingsect of darkness, whom the people detest, and whom in any case itwould be a merit to exterminate?’
‘Poor wretches!’ said Aliturus. ‘I should be sorry to do them moreharm than I have done already; but after the next nundine I may havemore to tell you.’
‘That man is wavering,’ said Tigellinus, when Aliturus had gone. ‘Heis a Jew, and he is not so much in earnest as he was. He seems to betouched by the squeamish effeminacy of pity.’
‘Poppæa says that the Jews hate these Christians even more than wedo,’ answered Nero.
‘Nevertheless, Cæsar, you may be certain that the two superstitionsspring from the same root. I will find out the Christian haunts formyself. It is high time to strike a blow.’
