A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Zenobia

W >> William Ware >> Zenobia




'By no means,' said Cleoras; 'it is rather to be desired. If my philosophy
were as deep and secure as yours, Longinus, I should beg to exchange
places with you. I should willingly suffer a brief pain to be rewarded so
largely. But I find within me no such strong assurance.'

'That,' replied Longinus, 'is for want of reflection. It is only by
conversing with itself that the soul rises to any height of faith.
Argument from abroad is of but little service in the comparison. I have
often discoursed with you concerning these things, and have laid open
before you the grounds upon which my convictions rest. But I have ever
taught that consciousness was the true source of belief, and that of this
you could possess yourselves only through habits of profound attention.
What I believe I feel. I cannot communicate the strength of my belief to
another, because it is mysteriously generated within, interweaving itself
with all my faculties and affections, and abundantly imparting itself to
them, but at the same time inseparable from them in such a sense that I
can offer it as I can a portion of my reason or my knowledge, to any whom
I might desire to benefit. It is in truth in its origin the gift of God,
strengthened and exalted infinitely by reflection. It is an instinct. Were
it otherwise, why could I not give to you all I possess myself, and
possess because I have by labor acquired it? Whereas, though I believe so
confidently myself, I find no way in which to bestow the same good upon
you. But each one will possess it, I am persuaded, in the proportion in
which he prepares himself by a pure life and habitual meditation. It will
then reveal itself with new strength every day. So will it also be of
service to contemplate the characters and lives of those who have lived
illustriously, both for their virtue and their philosophy. To study the
character of Plato will be more beneficial in this regard than to ponder
the arguments of the Phoedo. Those arguments are trivial, fanciful, and
ingenious, rather than convincing. And the great advantage to be derived
from the perusal of that treatise is, as it shall be regarded as a sublime
expression of the confidence with which its author entertained the hope of
immortality. It is as a part of Plato's biography--of the history of his
mind--that it is valuable. Through meditation, through inward purity,
through the contemplation of bright examples, will the soul be best
prepared for the birth of that feeling or conviction that shall set before
you with the distinctness and certainty of actual vision the prospect of
immortality.'

'But are there, Longinus, after all, no waverings of the mind, no
impertinent doubts, no overcasting shadows, which at all disturb your
peace, or impair the vividness of your faith? Are you wholly superior to
fear--the fear of suffering and death?'

'That is not, Cleoras, so much to ask whether I still consider my
philosophy as sufficient, and whether it be so, as whether or not I am
still a man, and therefore a mixed and imperfect being. But if you desire
the assurance, I can answer you, and say that I am but a man, and
therefore notwithstanding my philosophy subject to infirmity and to
assaults from the body, which undoubtedly occasion me some distress. But
these seasons are momentary. I can truly affirm, that although there have
been and still are conflicts, the soul is ever conqueror, and that too by
very great odds. My doubts and fears are mere flitting shadows; my hope, a
strong and unchanging beam of light. The body sometimes slips from beyond
my control and trembles, but the soul is at the very same time secure in
herself and undaunted. I present the same apparent contradiction that the
soldier often does upon the field of battle; he trembles and turns pale as
he first springs forward to encounter the foe, but his arm is strong and
his soul determined at the very same moment, and no death nor suffering in
prospect avails to alarm or turn him back. Do not therefore, although I
should exhibit signs of fear, imagine that my soul is terrified, or that I
am forsaken of those steadfast principles to which I have given in my
allegiance for so long a time.'

'We will not, Longinus,' said they all.

Longinus here paused, and seemed for a time buried in meditation. We were
all silent--or the silence was broken only by the sobs of those who could
not restrain their grief.

'I have spoken to you, my friends,' he at length resumed, 'of the hope of
immortality, of the strength it yields, and of its descent from God. But
think not that this hope can exist but in the strictest alliance with
virtue. The hope of immortality without virtue is a contradiction in
terms. The perpetuation of vice, or of any vicious affections or desires,
can be contemplated only with horror. If the soul be without virtue, it is
better that it should perish. And if deep stained with vice, it is to be
feared that the very principle of life may be annihilated. As then you
would meet the final hour, not only with calmness, but with pleasant
expectations, cherish virtue in your souls; reverence the divinity; do
justly by all; obey your instincts, which point out the right and the
wrong; keep yourselves pure; subdue the body. As virtue becomes a habit
and a choice, and the soul, throughout all its affections and powers,
harmonizes with nature and God, will the hope of immortality increase in
strength till it shall grow to a confident expectation. Remember that
virtue is the golden key, and the only one, that unlocks the gates of the
celestial mansions.'

I here asked Longinus if he was conscious of having been influenced in any
of his opinions by Christianity. 'I know,' I said, 'that in former
conversations you have ever objected to that doctrine. Does your judgment
remain the same?'

'I have not read the writings of the Christians, yet am I not wholly
ignorant of them, since it were impossible to know with such familiarity
the Princess Julia, and not arrive at some just conceptions of what that
religion is. But I have not received it. Yet even as a piece of polished
metal takes a thousand hues from surrounding objects, so does the mind;
and mine may have been unconsciously colored and swayed by the truths of
Christianity, which I have heard so often stated and defended. Light may
have fallen upon it from that quarter as well as from others. I doubt not
that it has. For although I cannot myself admit that doctrine, yet am I
now, and have ever been, persuaded of its excellence, and that upon such
as can admit it, it must exert a power altogether beneficial. But let us
now, for the little time that remains, turn to other things. Piso, know
you aught concerning the Queen? I have not seen her since the day of her
flight, nor have I heard concerning her that which I could trust.'

I then related at length all that I knew.

'Happy would it have been for her and for all, had my first counsels
prevailed! Yet am I glad that fortune spares her. May she live to hear of
Palmyra once more restored to opulence and glory. I was happy in her
service. I am now happy, if by my death, as by my life, I can avert from
her evil that otherwise might overtake her. For her, or for the Princess,
there is no extremity I would not endure, as there have been no services I
have not rejoiced to perform. The only favor I have asked of Aurelian was,
to be permitted a last interview with my great pupils; it did not agree
with my opinions of him, that I was denied so reasonable a request.'

'Perhaps,' said I, 'it is in my power to furnish the reason, having been
informed, since reaching Emesa, that the Queen, with her attendants and
the Princesses, had been sent on secretly toward Rome, that they might be
placed beyond the risk of violence on the part of the legions. He himself
was doubtful of his power to protect them.'

'For the sake of both am I glad to hear the explanation,' replied
Longinus.

As he uttered these words, the sound of steps was heard as of several
approaching the door of the room. Then the heavy bar of the door was let
fall, and the key turned in the wards of the lock. We knew that the last
moments of Longinus had arrived. Although knowing this so well, yet we
still were not ready for it, and a horror as of some unlooked-for
calamity came over us. Cleoras wept without restraint; and threw himself
down before Longinus, embraced his knees, and as the officers entered and
drew near, warned them away with threatening language. It was with
difficulty that Longinus calmed him. He seemed to have lost the
possession of his reason.

The jailer, followed by a guard, now came up to Longinus, and informed him
that the hour appointed for his execution had arrived.

Longinus replied, 'that he was ready to go with him, but must first, when
his chains were taken off, be permitted to address himself to the gods.
For,' said he, 'we ought to undertake no enterprise of moment, especially
ought we not to venture into any unknown and untried scenes without first
asking their guidance, who alone have power to carry us safely through.'

'This we readily grant,' replied the jailer; who then taking his hammer
struck off the chain that was bound around the middle of his body.

Longinus then, without moving from where he sat, bent his head, and
covering his face with his hands remained a few moments in that posture.
The apartment was silent as if no one had been in it. Even Cleoras was by
that sight taught to put a restraint upon the expression of his feelings.

When these few moments were ended, Longinus raised his head, and with a
bright and smiling countenance said to the jailer that he was now ready.

He then went out in company with the guard and soldiers, we following in
sad procession. The place of execution was in front of the camp, all the
legions being drawn round to witness it. Aurelian himself was present
among them.

Soon as we came in sight of that fatal place, and of the executioner
standing with his axe lifted upon his shoulder, Longinus suddenly stopped,
his face became pale and his frame trembled. He turned and looked upon us
who were immediately behind him, and held up his hands, but without
speaking, which was as much as to say, 'you perceive that what I said was
very likely to happen has come to pass, and the body has obtained a
momentary triumph.' He paused however not long, making then a sign to the
soldiers that he was ready to proceed. After a short walk from that spot
we reached the block and the executioner.

'Friend,' said he now to the executioner, 'I hope your axe is sharp, and
that you are skilful in your art; and yet it is a pity if you have had so
much practice as to have become very dexterous in it.'

'Ten years service in Rome,' he replied, 'may well make one so, or he must
be born with little wit. Distrust not my arm, for it has never failed yet.
One blow, and that a light one, is all I want, if it be as it ought, a
little slanting. As for this edge--feel it if thou wilt--it would do for
thy beard.'

Longinus had now divested himself of whatever parts of his garments would
obstruct the executioner in his duty, and was about to place his head in
the prescribed place, when he first turned to us and again held out his
hands, which now trembled no longer.

'You see,' said he, in a cheerful voice, 'that the soul is again supreme.
Love and cultivate the soul, my good friends, and you will then be
universal conquerors, and throughout all ages. It will never betray you.
Now, my new friend, open for me the gates of immortality, for you are in
truth a celestial porter.' So saying, he placed himself as he was directed
to do, and at a single blow, as he had been promised, the head of Longinus
was severed from his body.

Neither the head nor the body was delivered to the soldiers, nor allowed
to be treated with disrespect. This favor we had obtained of Aurelian. So
after the executioner had held up the head of the philosopher, and shown
it to the soldiers, it was together with the body given to our care, and
by us sent to Palmyra.

On this same day perished Otho, Seleucus, Gabrayas, Nicanor--all, in a
word, of the Queen's council, and almost all of the senate. Some were
reserved for execution at another time, and among these I found, as I
went sadly toward the cell of Gracchus, was the father of Fausta.

The keeper of the prison admitted me with a more cheerful air than before,
and with a significant shake of the head. I heeded him but little,
pressing on to meet Gracchus.

'So,' I exclaimed, 'it is not to-day'--

'No,' rejoined Gracchus, visibly moved, 'nor to-morrow, Piso. Read here.'
And placing a parchment in my hand, turned away.

It contained a full and free remission of punishment, and permission to
return immediately to Palmyra.

'The gods be praised! the gods be praised!' I cried as I embraced him, 'Is
not this better, Gracchus?'

'It is,' said he, with emphasis. 'It is a great boon. I do not deny it.
For Fausta's sake I rejoice--as for myself, all is strictly true which I
have said to you. But I forget all now, save Fausta and her joy and
renewed life. Would, O would, that Longinus could have returned to Palmyra
with me!'--and then, for the first time, Gracchus gave way to grief, and
wept aloud.

In the morning we set out for Palmyra. Farewell.




Letter XVII.



I write again from Palmyra.

We arrived here after a day's hard travel. The sensation occasioned by the
unexpected return of Gracchus seemed to cause a temporary forgetfulness of
their calamities on the part of the citizens. As we entered the city at
the close of the day, and they recognised their venerated friend, there
were no hounds to the tumultuous expressions of their joy. The whole city
was abroad. It were hard to say whether Fausta herself was more pained by
excess of pleasure, than was each citizen who thronged the streets as we
made our triumphal entry.

A general amnesty of the past having been proclaimed by Sandarion
immediately after the departure of Aurelian with the prisoners whom he
chose to select, we found Calpurnius already returned. At Fausta's side he
received us as we dismounted in the palace-yard. I need not tell you how
we passed our first evening. Yet it was one of very mixed enjoyment.
Fausta's eye, as it dwelt upon the beloved form of her father, seemed to
express unalloyed happiness. But then again, as it was withdrawn at those
moments when, his voice kept not her attention fixed upon himself, she
fell back upon the past and the lost, and the shadows of a deep sadness
would gather over her. So in truth was it with us all--especially, when at
the urgency of the rest, I related to them the interviews I had had with
Longinus, and described to them his behavior in the prison and at the
execution.

'I think,' said Fausta, 'that Aurelian, in the death of Longinus, has
injured his fame far more than by the capture of Zenobia and the reduction
of Palmyra he has added to it. Posterity will not readily forgive him for
putting out, in its meridian blaze, the very brightest light of the age.
It surely was an unnecessary act.'

'The destruction of prisoners, especially those of rank and influence,
is,' said I, 'according to the savage usages of war--and Aurelian defends
the death of Longinus by saying, that in becoming the first adviser of
Zenobia, he was no longer Longinus the philosopher, but Longinus the
minister and rebel.'

'That will be held,' she replied, 'as a poor piece of sophistry. He was
still Longinus. And in killing Longinus the minister, he basely slew
Longinus the renowned philosopher, the accomplished scholar, the man of
letters and of taste; the great man of the age; for you will not say that
either in Rome or Greece there now lives his equal.'

'Fausta,' said Gracchus, 'you are right. And had Aurelian been any more or
higher than a soldier, he would not have dared to encounter the odium of
the act; but in simple truth he was, I suppose, and is utterly insensible
to the crime he has committed, not against an individual or Palmyra, but
against the civilized world and posterity; a crime that will grow in its
magnitude as time rolls on, and will forever and to the remotest times
blast the fame and the name of him who did it. Longinus belonged to all
times and people, and by them will be avenged. Aurelian could not
understand the greatness of his victim, and was ignorant that he was
drawing upon himself a reproach greater than if he had sacrificed in his
fury the Queen herself, and half the inhabitants of Palmyra. He will find
it out when he reaches Rome. He will find himself as notorious there, as
the murderer of Longinus, as he will be as conqueror of the East.'

'There was one sentiment of Aurelian,' I said, 'which he expressed to me
when I urged upon him the sparing of Longinus, to which you must allow
some greatness to attach. I had said to him that it was greater to pardon
than to punish, and that for that reason--"Ah," he replied, interrupting
me, "I may not gain to myself the fame of magnanimity at the expense of
Rome. As the chief enemy of Rome in this rebellion, Rome requires his
punishment, and Rome is the party to be satisfied, not I."'

'I grant that there is greatness in the sentiment. If he was sincere, all
we can say is this--that he misjudged in supposing Rome to need the
sacrifice. She needed it not. There were enough heads like mine, of less
worth, that would do for the soldiers--for they are Rome in Aurelian's
vocabulary.'

'Men of humanity and of letters,' I replied, 'will, I suppose, decide upon
this question one way, politicians and soldiers another.'

'That, I believe,' rejoined Gracchus, 'is nearly the truth.'

When wearied by a prolonged conversation, we sought the repose of our
pillows; each one of us happier by a large and overflowing measure than
but two days before we had ever thought to be again.

The city is to all appearance tranquil and acquiescent under its bitter
chastisement. The outward aspect is calm and peaceful. The gates are
thrown open, and the merchants and traders are returning to the pursuits
of traffic; the gentry and nobles are engaged in refitting and
re-embellishing their rifled palaces; and the common people have returned
in quiet to the several channels of their industry.

I have made however some observations, which lead me to believe that all
is not so settled and secure as it seems to be, and that however the
greater proportion of the citizens are content to sit down patiently under
the rule of their new masters, others are not of their mind. I can
perceive that Antiochus, who under the general pardon proclaimed by
Sandarion has returned to the city, is the central point of a good deal of
interest among a certain class of citizens. He is again at the head of the
same licentious and desperate crew as before; a set of men, like himself,
large in their resources, lawless in their lives, and daring in the
pursuit of whatever object they set before them. To one who knows the men,
their habits and manners, it is not difficult to see that they are engaged
in other plans than appear upon the surface. Yet are their movements so
quietly ordered as to occasion no general observation or remark.
Sandarion, ignorant whence danger might be expected to arise, appears not
to indulge suspicions of one nor another. Indeed, from the smallness of
the garrison, from the whole manner both of the governor and those who are
under him, soldiers and others, it is evident that no thought of a rising
on the part of the populace has entered their minds.

* * * * *

A few days have passed, and Gracchus and Fausta, who inclined not to give
much heed to my observations, both think with me--indeed, to Gracchus
communication has been made of the existence of a plot to rescue the city
from the hands of the Romans, in which he has been solicited to join.

Antiochus himself has sought and obtained an interview with Gracchus.

Gracchus has not hesitated to reject all overtures from that quarter. We
thus learn that the most desperate measures are in agitation--weak and
preposterous too as they are desperate, and must in the end prove ruinous.
Antiochus, we doubt not, is a tool in the hands of others, but he stands
out as the head and centre of the conspiracy. There is a violent and a
strong party, consisting chiefly of the disbanded soldiers, but of some
drawn from every class of the inhabitants, whose object is by a sudden
attack to snatch the city from the Roman garrison; and placing Antiochus
on the throne, proclaim their independence again, and prepare themselves
to maintain and defend it. They make use of Antiochus because of his
connection with Zenobia, and the influence he would exert through that
prejudice, and because of his sway over other families among the richest
and most powerful, especially the two princes, Herennianus and
Timolaus--and because of his fool-hardiness. If they should fail, he, they
imagine, will be the only or the chief sacrifice--and he can well be
spared. If they succeed, it will be an easy matter afterward to dispose of
him, if his character or measures as their king should displease them, and
exalt some other and worthier in his room.

'And what, father,' said Fausta, 'said you to Antiochus?'

'I told him,' replied Gracchus, 'what I thought, that the plan struck me
not only as frantic and wild, but foolish--that I for myself should
engage in no plot of any kind, having in view any similar object, much
less in such a one as he proposed. I told him that if Palmyra was destined
ever to assert its supremacy and independence of Rome, it could not be for
many years to come, and then by watching for some favorable juncture in
the affairs of Rome in other parts of the world. It might very well
happen, I thought, that in the process of years, and when Palmyra had
wholly recruited her strength after her late and extreme sufferings--that
there might occur some period of revolution or inward commotion in the
Roman empire, such as would leave her remote provinces in a comparatively
unprotected state. Then would be the time for re-asserting our
independence; then we might spring upon our keepers with some good
prospect of overpowering them, and taking again to ourselves our own
government. But now, I tried to convince him, it was utter madness, or
worse, stupidity, to dream of success in such an enterprise. The Romans
were already inflamed and angry; not half appeased by the bloody offering
that had just been made; their strength was undiminished--for what could
diminish the strength of Rome?--and a rising could no sooner take place,
than her legions would again be upon us, and our sufferings might be
greater than ever. I entreated him to pause, and to dissuade those from
action who were connected with him. I did not hesitate to set before him a
lively picture of his own hazard in the affair; that he, if failure
ensued, would be the first victim. I urged moreover, that a few, as I held
his number to be, had no right to endanger, by any selfish and besotted
conduct, the general welfare, the lives and property of the citizens; that
not till he felt he had the voice of the people with him ought he to dare
to act; and that although I should not betray his councils to Sandarion, I
should to the people, unless I received from him ample assurance that no
movement should be made without a full disclosure of the project to all
the principal citizens, as representatives of the whole city.'

'And how took he all that?' we asked.

'He was evidently troubled at the vision I raised of his' own head borne
aloft upon a Roman pike, and not a little disconcerted at what I labored
to convince him were the rights of us all in the case. I obtained from him
in the end a solemn promise that he would communicate what I had said to
his companions, and that they would forbear all action till they had first
obtained the concurrence of the greater part of the city. I assured him
however, that in no case and under no conceivable circumstances could he
or others calculate upon any co-operation of mine. Upon any knowledge
which I might obtain of intended action, I should withdraw from the city.'

'It is a sad fate,' said Fausta, 'that having just escaped with our lives
and the bare walls of our city and dwellings from the Romans, we are now
to become the prey of a wicked faction among ourselves. But, can you trust
the word of Antiochus that he will give you timely notice if they go on to
prosecute the affair? Will they not now work in secret all the more, and
veil themselves even from the scrutiny of citizens?'

'I hardly think they can escape the watchful eyes that will be fixed upon
them,' replied Gracchus; 'nor do I believe that however inclined Antiochus
might be to deceive me, those who are of his party would agree to such
baseness. There are honorable men, however deluded, in his company.'

* * * * *

Several days have passed, and our fears are almost laid. Antiochus and the
princes have been seen as usual frequenting the more public streets,
lounging in the Portico, or at the places of amusement. And the evenings
have been devoted to gayety and pleasure--Sandarion himself, and the
officers of his legion, being frequent visiters at the palace of
Antiochus, and at that of the Cæsars, lately the palace of Zenobia.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.