You will be glad to learn, my Curtius, that the time
has now come, when I may with reason look for news
from Isaac, or for his return. It was his agreement to
write of his progress, so soon as he should arrive at Ecbatana.
But since he would consume but a very few days

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in the accomplishment of his task, if, the gods helping,
he should be able to accomplish it at all, I may see him,
even before I hear from him, and, O day thrice happy,
my brother perhaps with him! Yet am I not without solicitude,
even though Calpurnius should return. For how
shall I meet him? — as a Persian, or a Roman? — as a
friend, or an enemy? As a brother, I can never cease to
love him; as a public enemy of Rome, I may be obliged
to condemn him.

You have indeed gratified me by what you have told
me concerning the public works in which the emperor is
now engaged. Would that the erection of temples and
palaces might draw away his thoughts from the East.
The new wall, of so much wider sweep, with which he is
now enclosing the city, is well worthy the greatness of
his genius. Yet do we, my Curtius, perceive in this rebuilding
and strengthening of the walls of Rome, no indication
of our country's decline? Were Rome vigorous
and sound, as once, in her limbs, what were the need of
this new defence about the heart? It is to me a confession
of weakness, rather than any evidence of greatness
and strength. Aurelian achieves more for Rome by the
strictness of his discipline, and his restoration of the ancient
simplicity and severity among the troops, than he
could by a triple wall about the metropolis. Rome will
then already have fallen when a Gothic army shall have
penetrated so far as even to have seen her gates. The
walls of Rome are her living and moving walls of flesh.
Her old and crumbling ramparts of masonry, upon which
we have so often climbed in sport, rolling down into the
surrounding ditch huge masses, have ever been to me,
when I have thought of them, pregnant signs of security
and power.

The ambassadors, Petronius and Varro, early on the

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morning succeeding their interview with the queen, departed
for the city. They were soon followed by Zenobia
and her train of councillors and attendants. It had been
before agreed that the princess, Fausta, and myself, should
remain longer at the palace, for the purpose of visiting, as
had been proposed, the aged Christian hermit, whose retreat
is among the fastnesses of the neighboring mountains.
I would rather have accompanied the queen,
seeing it was so certain that important interviews and discussions
would take place, when they should be all returned
once more to the city. I suppose this was expressed
in my countenance, for the queen, as she took her seat
in the chariot, turned and said to me: `We shall soon
see you again in the city. A few hours in the mountains
will be all that Julia will require; and sure I am that the
wisdom of St. Thomas will more than repay you for what
you may lose in Palmyra. Our topics will relate but to
worldly aggrandizement — yours to more permanent interests.
'

How great a pity that the love of glory has so fastened
upon the heart of this wonderful woman; else might she
live, and reign, and die the object of a universal idolatry.
But set as her heart is upon conquest and universal empire
throughout the East, and of such marvellous power
to subdue every intellect, even the strongest, to her will,
I can see nothing before her but a short and brilliant
career indeed, ending in ruin, absolute and complete.
Zenobia has not, or will not allow it to be seen that she
has, any proper conception of the power of Rome. She
judges of Rome by the feeble Valerian, and the unskilful
Heraclianus, and by their standard measures such men as
Aurelian, and Probus, and Carus. She may indeed gain
a single battle, for her genius is vast, and her troops well
disciplined and brave. But the loss of a battle would be

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to her the loss of empire, while to Rome it would be but
as the sting of a summer insect. Yet this she does not or
will not see. To triumph over Aurelian, is, I believe,
the vision that dazzles, deludes, and will destroy her.

No sooner had the queen and her train departed, than,
mounting our horses, we took our way, Julia, Fausta, and
myself, through winding valleys and over rugged hills,
toward the hermit's retreat. Reaching the base of what
seemed an almost inaccessible crag, we found it necessary
to leave our horses in the care of attendant slaves, and
pursue the remainder of the way on foot. The hill which
we now had to ascend, was thickly grown over with every
variety of tree and bush, with here and there a mountain
stream falling from rock to rock, and forcing its way to
the valley below. The sultry heat of the day compelled
us frequently to pause, as we toiled up the side of the
hill, seating ourselves, now beneath the dark shadows of
a branching cedar or the long-lived terebinth, and now
on the mossy banks of a descending brook. The mingled
beauty and wildness of the scene, together with such companions,
soon drove the queen, Rome, and Palmyra, from
my thoughts. I could not but wish that we might lose
our way to the hermit's cave, that by such means our
walk might be prolonged.

`Is it, I wonder,' said Fausta, `the instruction of his
religion which confines this Christian saint to these distant
solitudes? What a singular faith it must be which
should drive all who embrace it to the woods and rocks!
What would become of our dear Palmyra, were it to be
changed to a Christian city? The same event, I suppose,
Julia, would change it to a desert.'

`I do not think christianity prescribes this mode of life,
though I do not know but it may permit it,' replied the
princess. `But of this, St. Thomas will inform us. He

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may have chosen this retreat on account of his extreme
age, which permits him no longer to engage in the affairs
of an active life.'

`I trust for the sake of christianity it is so,' added
Fausta; `for I cannot conceive of a true religion inculcating,
or even permitting inactivity. What would become
of the world, if it could be proved that the gods
required us to pass our days in retired contemplation?'

`Yet it cannot be denied,' said Julia, `that the greatest
benefactors of mankind have been those who have in solitude,
and with patient labor, pursued truth till they have
discovered it, and then revealed it to shed its light and
heat upon the world.'

`For my part,' replied Fausta, `I must think that they
who have sowed and reaped, have been equal benefactors.
The essential truths are instinctive and universal. As for
the philosophers, they have, with few exceptions, been occupied
as much about mere frivolities as any Palmyrene
lady at her toilet. Still, I do not deny that the contemplative
race is a useful one in its way. What I say is,
that a religion which enjoined a solitary life as a duty,
would be a very mischievous religion. And what is more,
any such precept, fairly proved upon it, would annihilate
all its claims to a divine origin. For certainly, if it were
made a religious duty for one man to turn an idle, contemplative
hermit, it would be equally the duty of every
other, and then the arts of life by which we subsist would
be forsaken. Any of the prevalent superstitions, if we
may not call them religious, were better than this.'

`I agree with you entirely,' said Julia; `but my acquaintance
with the Christian writings is not such as to
enable me to say with confidence that they contain no
such permission or injunction. Indeed, some of them I
have not even read, and much I do not fully understan

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But as I have seen and read enough to believe firmly that
christianity is a divine religion, my reason teaches me
that it contains no precept such as we speak of.'

We had now, in the course of our walk, reached what
we found to be a broad and level ledge, about half way to
the summit of the hill. It was a spot remarkable for a
sort of dark and solemn beauty, being set with huge
branching trees, whose tops were woven into a roof,
through which only here and there the rays of the fierce
sun could find their way. The turf beneath, unincumbered
with any smaller growth of tree or shrub, was
sprinkled with flowers that love the shade. The upper
limit of this level space was bounded by precipitous rocks,
up which, ascent seemed impossible, and the lower by
similar ones, to descend which seemed equally difficult or
impossible.

`If the abode of the Christian is hereabouts,' we said,
it seems well chosen both for its security and the exceeding
beauty of the various objects which greet the eye.'

`Soon as we shall have passed that tumbling rivulet,'
said Julia, `it will come into view.'

Upon a rude bridge of fallen trunks of trees, we passed
the stream as it crossed our path, and which then shooting
over the edge of the precipice, was lost among the
rocks and woods below. A cloud of light spray fell upon
us as we stood upon the bridge, and imparted a most refreshing
coolness.

`Where you see,' said Julia, `that dark entrance, beneath
yonder low-browed rock, is the dwelling of the aged
Christian.'

We moved on with slow and silent steps, our spirits
partaking of the stillness and solitariness of the place.
We reached the front of the grotto, without disturbing the
meditations of the venerable man. A part of the rock

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which formed his dwelling, served him for a seat, and
another part projecting after the manner of a shelf, served
him for a table, upon which lay spread open a large
volume. Bending over the book, his lean and shrivelled
finger pointing to the words, and aiding his now dim and
feeble eye, he seemed wholly wrapped in the truths he
was contemplating, and heeded not our presence. We
stood still for a moment, unwilling to break a repose so
peaceful and profound. At length, raising his eyes from
the page, they caught the form and face of the princess,
who stood nearest to him. A quick and benignant smile
lighted up his features; and rising slowly to his full height,
he bade her welcome, with sweet and tremulous tones, to
his humble roof.

`It is kind in you,' said he, so soon again to ascend
these rough solitudes, to visit a now unprofitable old man.
And more kind still to bring others with you. Voices
from the world ring a sweet music in my ear — sweeter
than any sound of bird or stream. Enter, friends, if it
please you, and be rested, after the toil of your ascent.'

`I bring you here, Father,' said Julia, `according to my
sometime promise, my friend and companion, the daughter
of Gracchus, and with her a noble Roman, of the house
of Piso, lately come hither from the capital of the world.'

`They are very, very welcome,' replied the saint;
`your presence breaks most gratefully the monotony of
my life.'

`We almost doubted,' said I, `venerable Father, whether
it would please you to find beneath your roof those who
receive not your belief, and what is much more, belong
to a faith which has poured upon you and yours so full
a flood of suffering and reproach. But your countenance
assures us that we have erred.'

`You have, indeed,' replied the sage; `as a Christian

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I see in you not pagans and unbelievers, not followers of
Plato and Epicurus, not dwellers in Rome or in Alexandria,
but members of the great family of man, and as such
I greet you, and already love you. The design of christianity
is to unite and draw together, not divide and drive
asunder. It teaches its disciples, indeed, to go out and
convert the world, but if they cannot convert it, it still
teaches them to love it. My days and my strength have
been spent in preaching Christ to Jews and heathen, and
many of those who have heard have believed. But more
have not. These are not my brethren in Christ, but they
are my brethren in God, and I love them as his.'

`These are noble sentiments,' said Fausta. `Religion
has, in almost all its forms, condemned utterly all who
have not received it in the form in which it has been proposed.
Rome used to be mild and tolerant of every form
which the religious sentiment assumed. But since the
appearance of christianity, it has wholly changed its policy.
I am afraid it formerly tolerated, only because it saw
nothing to fear. Fearing christianity, it seeks to destroy
it. That is scarcely generous of you, Lucius; nor very
wise, either — for surely truth can neither be created nor
suppressed by applications of force. Such is not the doctrine
of christianity, if I understand you right.'

`Lady, most certainly not,' he replied. `Christianity
is offered to mankind, not forced upon them. And this
supposes in them the power and the right to sit in judgment
upon its truth. But were not all free judgment destroyed,
and all worthy reception of it, therefore, if any
penal consequences — greater or less, of one kind or
another, present or future — followed upon its rejection?
Rome has done wickedly, in her aim to suppress error
and maintain truth by force. Is Rome a god to distinguish
with certainty the one from the other? But alas! Rome

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is not alone to blame in this. Christians themselves are
guilty of the same folly and crime. They interpret differently
the sayings of Christ — as how should they not? —
and the party which is stronger in numbers already begins
to oppress, with hard usage and language, the weaker
party, which presumes to entertain its own opinions.
The Christians of Alexandria and Rome, fond of the ancient
philosophy, and desirous to recommend the doctrines
of Christ, by showing their near accordance with it, have,
as many think, greatly adulterated the gospel, by mixing
up with its truths the fantastic dreams of Plato. Others,
among whom is our Paul of Antioch, deeming this injurious
and erroneous, aim to restore the Christian doctrine
to the simplicity that belongs to it in the original
records, and which, for the most part, it still retains
among the common people. But this is not willingly
allowed. On the contrary, because Paul cannot see with
their eyes, and judge with their judgment, he is to be
driven from his bishopric. Thus do the Christians imitate
in their treatment of each other their common enemy,
the Roman. They seem already ashamed of the gentleness
of Christ, who would have every mind left in its own
freedom to believe as its own powers enable it to believe.
Our good Zenobia, though no Christian, is yet in this
respect the truest Christian. All within her realm, thought
is free as the air that plays among these leaves.'

`But is it not,' said Fausta, `a mark of imperfection in
your religion, that it cannot control and bind to a perfect
life its disciples? Methinks a divine religion should
manifest its divinity in the superior goodness which it
forms.'

`Is not that just?' I added.

`A divine religion,' he replied, `may indeed be expected
to show its heaven-derived power in creating a

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higher virtue than human systems. And this, I am sure,
christianity does. I may safely challenge the world to
show in human form the perfection which dwelt in Jesus,
the founder of this religion. Yet his character was formed
by the power of his own doctrines. Among his followers,
if there have been none so perfect as he, there have been
multitudes who have approached him, and have exhibited
a virtue which was once thought to belong only to philosophers.
The world has been accustomed to celebrate,
with almost divine honors, Socrates, and chiefly because
of the greatness of mind displayed by him when condemned
to drink the cup of poison. I can tell you of
thousands among the Christians, among common and unlearned
Christians, who have met death, in forms many
times more horrible than that in which the Greek encountered
it, with equal calmness and serenity. This they
have been enabled to do simply through the divine force
of a few great truths, which they have implicitly believed.
Beside this, consider the many usages of the world, which,
while others hold them innocent, the Christians condemn
them, and abstain from them. It is not to be denied that
they are the reformers of the age. They are busy, sometimes
with an indiscreet and violent zeal, in new modelling
both the opinions and practices of the world. But
what then? Are they to be condemned if a single fault
may be charged upon them? Must they be perfect, because
their religion is divine? This might be so, if it
were of the nature of religion to operate with an irresistible
influence upon the mind, producing an involuntary
and forced obedience. But in such an obedience, there
would be nothing like what we mean by virtue, but something
quite inferior in the comparison. A religion, for
the reason that it is divine, will, with the more certainty,
make its appeals to a free nature. It will explain the

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nature, and reveal the consequences of virtue and vice,
but will leave the mind free to choose the one or the
other. Christianity teaches, that in goodness, and faithfulness
to the sense of duty, lies the chief good; in these
there is a heaven of reward, not only now and on earth,
but throughout an existence truly immortal. Is it not
most evident that with whatever authority this religion
may propound its doctrines, men not being in a single
power coerced will not, though they may receive them,
yield to them an equal observance. Hence, even among
Christians, there must be, perhaps ever, much imperfection.
'

`Does not this appear to you, Fausta and Piso,' said
Julia, as the old man paused, `just and reasonable? Can
it be an objection to this faith, that its disciples partake
of the common weaknesses of humanity? Otherwise, religion
would be a principle designed, not so much to improve
and exalt our nature, as to alter it.'

`We allow it readily to be both just and reasonable.'

`But it seemed to us,' said Fausta, `as we ascended
the mountain, and were conversing, to be with certainty
a proof of imperfection in your religion — pardon my freedom,
we are come as learners, and they who would learn,
must, without restraint, express their doubts — that it
recommended or permitted a recluse and inactive life.
Have your days, father, been passed in this deep solitude?
and has your religion demanded it?'

`Your freedom pleases me,' replied the venerable man,
`and I wonder not at the question you propose. Not my
religion, lady, but an enfeebled and decrepit frame chains
me to this solitude. I have now out-lasted a century, and
my powers are wasted and gone. I can do little more
than sit and ponder the truths of this life-giving book, and
anticipate the renewed activity of that immortal being

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which it promises. The Christian converts, who dwell
beneath those roofs which you see gleaming in the valley
below supply the few wants which I have. When their
labor is done for the day, they sometimes come up, bringing
with them baskets of fresh or dried fruits, which serve
me, together with the few roots and berries which I myself
can gather as I walk this level space, for my food. My
thirst I quench at the brook which you have just passed.
Upon this simple but wholesome nutriment, and breathing
this dry mountain air, my days may yet be prolonged
through many years. But I do not covet them — since
nature makes me a prisoner. But I submit, because my
faith teaches me to receive patiently whatever the Supreme
Ruler appoints. It is not my religion that prescribes this
manner of life — or permits it, but as the last refuge of
an imbecility like mine. Christianity denounces selfishness,
in all its forms, and what form of selfishness more
gross than to spend the best of one's days in solitary musing
and prayer, all to secure one's own salvation? The
founder of this religion led an active and laborious life.
He did good not only to himself by prayer and meditation.
He went about doing it to others — seeking out objects
whom he might benefit and bless. His life was one of
active benevolence; and the record of that life is the religious
code of his followers. No condemnation could be
more severe than that which the Prophet of Nazareth
would pronounce upon such a life as mine now is, were
it a chosen, voluntary one. But it never has been voluntary.
Till age dried up the sources of my strength, I
toiled night and day in all countries and climates, in the
face of every danger, in the service of mankind. For it
is by serving others, that the law of Christ is fulfilled.
This disinterested labor for others constituted the greatness
of Jesus Christ. This constitutes true greatness in

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his followers. I perceive that what I say falls upon your
ear as a new and strange doctrine. But it is the doctrine
of christianity. It utterly condemns, therefore, a life of
solitary devotion. It is a mischievous influence which
is now spreading outward from the example of that Paul,
who suffered so much under the persecution of the Emperor
Decius, and who then, flying to the solitudes of the
Egyptian Thebais, has there in the vigor of his days
buried himself in a cave of the earth, that he may serve
God by forsaking man. His maxim seems to be, “The
farther from man, the nearer to God” — the reverse of
the Christian maxim, “The nearer man, the nearer God.”
A disciple of Jesus has truly said: “He who loves not
his brother whom he hath seen, how shall he love God,
whom he hath not seen?” This, it may be, Roman, is
the first sentence you have ever heard from the Christian
books.'

`I am obliged to confess that it is,' I replied. `I have
heretofore lived in any easy indifference toward all religions.
The popular religion of my country I early learned to
despise. I have perused the philosophers, and examined
their systems, from Pythagoras to Seneca, and am now,
what I have long been, a disciple of none but Pyrrho.
My researches have taught me only how the more ingeniously
to doubt. Wearied at length with a vain inquiry
after truth that should satisfy and fill me, I suddenly
abandoned the pursuit, with the resolve never to resume it.
I was not even tempted to depart from this resolution when
christianity offered itself to my notice; for I confounded
it with Judaism, and for that, as a Roman, I entertained
too profound a contempt to bestow upon it a single thought.
I must acknowledge that the reports which I heard, and
which I sometimes read, of the marvellous constancy and
serenity of the Christians, under accumulated sufferings

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and wrongs, interested my feelings in their behalf; and the
thought often arose, “Must there not be truth to support
such heroism?” But the world went on its way, and I with
it, and the Christians were forgotten. To a Christian, on
my voyage across the Mediterranean, I owe much, for my
first knowledge of christianity. To the Princess Julia I
owe a larger debt still. And now from your lips, long
accustomed to declare its truths, I have heard what makes
me truly desirous to hear the whole of that which, in the
little glimpses I have been able to obtain, has afforded so
real a satisfaction.'

`If you studied the Christian books,' said the recluse,
`you would be chiefly struck, perhaps, with the plainness
and simplicity of the doctrines there unfolded. You
would say that much which you found there, relating to
the right conduct of life, you had already found scattered
through the books of the Greek and Roman moralists.
You would be startled by no strange or appalling truth.
You would turn over their leaves in vain in search of
such dark and puzzling ingenuities as try the wits of those
who resort to the pages of the Timœus. A child can understand
the essential truths of Christ. And the value of
christianity consists not in this, that it puts forth a new,
ingenious, and intricate system of philosophy, but that it
adds to recognised and familiar truths divine authority.
Some things are indeed new; and much is new, if that
may be called so which, having been neglected as insignificant
by other teachers, has by Christ been singled out
and announced as primal and essential. But the peculiarity
of christianity lies in this, that its voice, whether heard
in republishing an old and familiar doctrine, or announcing
a new one, is not the voice of man, but of God. It is a
revelation. It is a word from the invisible, unapproachable
Spirit of the universe For this Socrates would have been

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willing to renounce all his wisdom. Is it not this which we
need? We can theorize and conjecture without end, but
cannot relieve ourselves of our doubts. They will assail
every work of man. We wish to repose in a divine
assurance. This we have in christianity. It is a message
from God. It puts an end to doubt and conjecture.
Wise men of all ages have agreed in the belief of
One God; but not being able to demonstrate his being
and his unity, they have had no power to change the popular
belief, which has ever tended to polytheism and idolatry.
Christianity teaches this truth with the authority
of God himself, and already has it become the faith of
millions. Philosophers have long ago taught that the
only safe and happy life is a virtuous life. Christianity
repeats this great truth, and adds, that it is such a life
alone that conducts to immortality. Philosophers have
themselves believed in the doctrine of a future life, and
have died hoping to live again; and it cannot be denied
that mankind generally have entertained an obscure expectation
of a renewed existence after death. The advantage
of christianity consists in this, that it assures us
of the reality of a future existence, on the word and
authority of God himself. Jesus Christ taught, that all
men come forth from death, wearing a new spiritual body,
and thereafter never die; and to confirm his teaching, he
himself being slain, rose from the dead, and showed himself
to his followers alive, and while they were yet looking
upon him, ascended to some other and higher world.
Surely, Roman, though christianity announced nothing
more than these great truths, yet seeing it puts them forth
in the name, and with the authority of God, it is a vast
accession to our knowledge.'

`Indeed it cannot be denied,' I answered. `It would
be a great happiness, too, to feel such an assurance, as

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he must who believes in your religion, of another life.
Death would then lose every terror. We could approach
the close of life, as calmly and cheerfully, sometimes as
gladly, as we now do the close of a day of weary travel
or toil. It would be but to lie down and rest, and sleep,
and rise again refreshed, by the slumber for the labors
and enjoyments of a life which should then be without
termination, and yet unattended by fatigue. I can think
of no greater felicity than to be able to perceive the
truth of such a religion as yours.'

`This religion of the Christians,' said Fausta, `seems
to be full of reasonable and desirable truth — if it all be
truth. But how is this great point to be determined?
How are we to know whether the founder of this religion
was in truth a person holding communication with God?
The mind will necessarily demand a large amount of
evidence, before it can believe so extraordinary a thing.
I greatly fear, Julia, lest I may never be a Christian.
What is the evidence, Father, with which you trust to
convince the mind of an inquirer? It must possess potency,
for all the world seems flocking to the standard of
Christ.'

`I think, indeed,' replied the saint, `that it possesses
potency. I believe its power to be irresistible. But do
you ask in sincerity, daughter of Gracchus, what to do in
order to believe in christianity.'

`I do, indeed,' answered Fausta. `But know that my
mind is one not easy of belief.'

`Christianity asks no forced or faint assent. It appeals
to human reason, and it blames not the conscientious
doubter or denier. When it requires you to examine,
and constitutes you judge, it condemns no honest decision.
The mind that approaches christianity must be
free and ought to be fearless. Hesitate not to reject that

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which evidence does not substantiate. But examine and
weigh well the testimony. If then you would know
whether christianity be true, it is first of all needful that
you read and ponder the Christian books. These books
prove themselves. The religion of Christ is felt to be
true, as you read the writings in which it is recorded.
Just as the works of nature prove to the contemplative
mind the being of a God, so do the books of the Christians
prove the truth of their religion. As you read them,
as your mind embraces the teaching, and above all, the
character of Christ, you involuntarily exclaim: “This
must be true; the sun in the heavens does not more
clearly point to a divine author, than do the contents of
these books.” You find them utterly unlike any other
books — differing from them just in the same infinite and
essential way that the works of God differ from the works
of man.'

He paused, and we were for a few moments silent.
At length Fausta said: `This is all very new and strange,
Father! Why, Julia, have you never urged me to read
these books?'

`The princess,' resumed the hermit, `has done wisely
to leave you to the promptings of your own mind. The
more every thing in religion is voluntary and free, the
more worth attaches to it. Christ would not that any
should be driven or urged to him; but that they should
come. Nevertheless the way must be pointed out. I
have now shown you one way. Let me tell you of
another. The Christian books bear the names of the
persons who profess to have written them, and who declare
themselves to have lived and to have recorded
events which happened in the province of Judea, in the
reigns of Tiberius and Nero. Now it is by no means
a difficult matter for a person, desirous to arrive at the

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truth, to institute such inquiries, as shall fully convince
him that such persons lived then and there, and performed
the actions ascribed to them. We are not so far removed
from those times, but that by resorting to the places
where the events of the Christian history took place, we
can readily satisfy ourselves of their truth — if they be
true — by inquiring of the descendants of those who were
concerned in the very transactions recorded. This
thousands and thousands have done, and they believe in
the events — strange as they are — of the Christian history
as implicitly as they do in the events of the Roman
history, for the same period of time. Listen, my children,
while I rehearse my own experience as a believer
in Christ.

`My father, Cyprian, a native of Syria, attained, as I
have attained, to an extreme old age. At the age of five
score years and ten, he died within the walls o this
quiet dwelling of nature's own hewing, and there at the
roots of that ancient cedar, his bones repose. He was
for twenty years a contemporary of St. John the evangelist—
of that John, who was one of the companions of
Jesus, the founder of christianity, and who, ere he died,
wrote a history of Jesus, and of his acts and doctrine.
From the very lips of this holy man, did the youthful
but truth-loving and truth-seeking Cyprian receive his
knowledge of christianity. He sat and listened while
the aged apostle — the past rising before him with the
distinctness of a picture — told of Jesus; of the mild majesty
of his presence; of the power and sweetness of his
discourse; of the love he bore toward all that lived; of
his countenance radiant with joy when, in using the
miraculous power intrusted to show his descent from
God, he gave health to the pining sick, and restored
the dying and the dead to the arms of weeping friends.

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There was no point of the history which the apostle has
recorded for the instruction of posterity, which Cyprian
did not hear, with all its minuter circumstances, from
his own mouth. Nay, he was himself a witness of the
exercise of that same power of God which was committed
without measure to Jesus, on the part of the
apostle. He stood by — his spirit wrapt and wonderstruck—
while at the name of Jesus the lame walked,
the blind recovered their sight, and the sick leaped from
their couches. When this great apostle was fallen asleep,
my father, by the counsel of St. John, and that his faith
might yet farther be confirmed, travelled over all the
scenes of the Christian history. He visited the towns,
and cities of Judea, where Jesus had done his marvellous
works. He conversed with the children of those who
had been subjects of the healing power of the Messiah.
He was with those who themselves had mingled among
the multitudes who encompassed him, when Lazarus was
summoned from the grave, and who clung to the cross
when Jesus was upon it dying, and witnessed the sudden
darkness, and felt the quaking of the earth. Finding,
wherever he turned his steps in Judea, from Bethlehem
to Nazareth, from the Jordan to the great sea, the whole
land filled with those who, as either friends or enemies,
had hung upon the steps of Jesus, and seen his miracles,
what was he, to doubt whether such a person as Jesus
had ever lived? or had ever done those wonderful works?
He doubted not; he believed, even as he would have
done had he himself been present as a disciple. In addition
to this, he saw at the places where they were kept,
the evangelic histories, in the writing of those who drew
them up; and at Rome, at Corinth, at Philippi, at Ephesus,
he handled with his own hands the letters of Paul,
which he wrote to the Christians of those places; and in

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those places and others, did he dwell and converse with
multitudes who had seen and heard the great apostle,
and had witnessed the wonders he had wrought. I, the
child of Cyprian's old age, heard from him all that I
have now recounted to you. I sat at his feet, as he had
sat at the evangelist's, and from him I heard the various
experiences of his long, laborious, and troubled life.
Could I help but believe what I heard? — and so could
I help but be a Christian? My father was a man — and
all Syria knows him to have been such an one — of a
passionate love of truth. At any moment would he have
cheerfully suffered torture and death, sooner than have
swerved from the strictest allegiance to its very letter.
Nevertheless, he would not that I should trust to him
alone, but as the apostle had sent him forth, so he sent
me forth, to read the evidences of the truth of this religion
in the living monuments of Judea. I, too, wandered
a pilgrim over the hills and plains of Galilee. I sat in
the synagogue at Nazareth. I dwelt in Capernaum. I
mused by the shore of the Gallilean lake. I haunted
the ruins of Jerusalem, and sought out the places where
the Saviour of men had passed the last hours of his life.
Night after night I wept and prayed upon the Mount of
Olives. Wherever I went, and among whomsoever I
mingled, I found witnesses eloquent and loud, and without
number, to all the principal facts and events of our
sacred history. Ten thousand traditions of the life and
acts of Christ and his apostles, all agreeing substantially
with the written records, were passing from mouth to
mouth, and descending from sire to son. The whole
land, in all its length and breadth, was but one vast monument
to the truth of christianity. And for this purpose
it was resorted to by the lovers of truth from all parts of
the world. Did doubts arise in the mind of a dweller in

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Rome, or Carthage, or Britain, concerning the whole or
any part of the Christian story, he addressed letters to well
known inhabitants of the Jewish cities, or he visited them
in person, and by a few plain words from another, or by the
evidence of his own eyes and ears, every doubt was scattered.
When I had stored my mind with knowledge
from these original sources, I then betook myself to some
of the living oracles of Christian wisdom, with the fame
of whose learning and piety the world was filled. From
the great Clement of Rome, from Dyonysius at Alexandria,
from Tertullian at Carthage, from that wonder of
human genius, Origen, in his school at Cæsarea, I gathered
together what more was needed to arm me for the
Christian warfare; and I then went forth full of faith
myself to plant its divine seeds in the hearts of whosoever
would receive them. In this good work my days
have been spent. I have lived and taught but to unfold
to others the evidences which have made me a Christian.
My children,' continued he, `why should you not receive
my words? why should I desire to deceive you? I am
an old man, trembling upon the borders of the grave.
Can I have any wish to injure you? Is it conceivable
that, standing thus already as it were, before the bar of
God, I could pour false and idle tales into your ears?
But if I have spoken truly, can you refuse to believe?
But I must not urge. Use your freedom. Inquire for
yourselves. Let the leisure and the wealth which are
yours carry you to read with your own eyes that widespread
volume which you will find among the mountains
and valleys of the holy land. Princess, my strength is
spent, or there is much more I could gladly add.'

`My friends,' said the princess, `are, I am sure, grateful
for what you have said, and they have heard.'

`Indeed we are,' said Fausta, `and heartily do we

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thank you. One thing more would I ask. What think
you of the prospects of the Christian faith? Are the
common reports of its rapid ascendency to be heeded? Is
it making its way, as we are told, even into the palaces
of kings? I know, indeed, what happens in Palmyra;
but elsewhere, holy father?'

As Fausta spoke these words, the aged man seemed
wrapped in thought. His venerable head sank upon his
breast; his beard swept the ground. At length, slowly
raising his head, and with eyes lifted upward, he said, in
deep and solemn tones: `It cannot, it cannot be difficult
to read the future. It must be so. I see it as if it were
already come. The throne which is red with blood, and
he who sits thereon, wielding a sword dropping blood,
sinks — sinks — and disappears; and one all white, and
he who sits thereon, having upon his frontlet these words,
`Peace on earth and good will toward men,' rises and fills
its place. And I hear a movement as of a multitude which
no man can number, coming and worshipping around the
throne. `God of the whole earth, arise! — visit it with
thy salvation! Hasten the coming of the universal kingdom
of thy Son, when all shall know thee, and love to
God and love to man possess and fill every soul.'

As the venerable man uttered this prayer, Julia looked
steadfastly upon him, and a beauty more than of earth
seemed to dwell upon her countenance.

`Father,' said Fausta, `we are not now fair judges of
truth. Your discourse has wrought so upon us, that
we need reflection before we can tell what we ought to
believe.'

`That is just,' said the saint; `to determine right, we
must think rather than feel. And that your minds may
the sooner return to the proper state, let me set before
you of such as my dwelling will afford.'

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Saying this, he moved from the seat which till now he
had retained, and closing the volume he had been reading,
laid it away with care, saying as he did so, `This,
children, is the Christian's book; not containing all those
writings which we deem to be of authority in describing
our faith, but such as are most needful. It is from reading
this, and noting as you read the inward marks of
honesty, and observing how easy it were, even now, by visiting
Judea, to convict its authors of error and falsehood,
had they been guilty of either, that your minds will be
best able to judge of the truth and worth of christianity.'

`At another time, father,' said Fausta, `it would give
me great delight, and equally, too, I am sure, our friend
from Rome, if you would read to us portions of that volume,
that we may know somewhat of its contents from
your lips, accompanied, too, by such comments as you
might deem useful to learners. It is thus we have often
heard the Greek and Roman writers from the mouth of
Longinus.'

`Whenever,' he replied, `you shall be willing to ascend
these steep and rugged paths, in pursuit of truth, I in my
turn will stand prepared to teach. To behold such listeners
before me, brings back the life of former days.'

He then, with short and interrupted steps, busied himself
in bringing forth his humble fare. Bread and fruits,
and olives former our slight repast, together with ice-cold
water, which Julia, seizing from his hand the hermit's
pitcher, brought from a spring that gushed from a neighboring
rock.

This being ended, and with it much various and agreeable
conversation, in the course of which the Christian
patriarch gave many striking anecdotes of his exposed and
toilsome life, we rose, and bidding farewell, with

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promises to return again, betook ourselves to our horses, and
mounting them, were soon at the gates of the palace.

I confess myself interested in the question of christianity.
The old religions are time-worn, and in effect
dead. To the common people, when believed, they are as
often injurious as useful — to others, they are the objects
of open, undisguised contempt. Yet religion, in some
form, the human mind must have. We feel the want of
it as we do of food and drink. But, as in the case of
food and drink, it must be something that we shall perceive
to nourish and strengthen, not to debilitate and poison.
In my searches through antiquity, I have found no
system which I could rest in as complete and satisfying.
They all fail in many vital points. They are frequently
childish in their requisitions and their principles; their
morality is faulty; their spirit narrow and exclusive; and
more than all, they are without authority. The principles
which are to guide, control, and exalt our nature, it
seems to me, must proceed from the author of that nature.
The claim of christianity to be a religion provided for man
by the Creator of man, is the feature in it which draws me
toward it. This claim I shall investigate and scan, with
all the ability and learning I can bring to the work. But
whatever I or you may think of it, or ultimately determine,
every eye must see with what giant steps it is striding
onward — temples, religions, superstitions, and powers
crumbling and dissolving at its approach. Farewell.

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