Part 3

...his hand and followed his lead. The boy turned away to the right of the Appian Way, walking a short distance. Here he came to an uninhabited house. He entered and went down into the cellar. There was a door which apparently opened into a closet. The boy pointed to this and stopped. I wish to go down, said Marcellus firmly. You would not dare to go down alone, surely, would you? The Christians say that they do not commit murder. Why then should I fear? Lead on. I have no torches. But I have some. I came prepared. Go on. I cannot. Do you refuse? I must refuse, said the boy. My friends and my relatives are below. Sooner than lead you to them, I would die a hundred deaths. You are bold. You do not know what death is. Do I not? What Christian can fear death? I have seen many of my friends die in agony, and I have helped to bury them. I will not lead you there. Take me away to prison. The boy turned away. But if I take you away, what will your friends think? Have you a mother? The boy bowed his head and burst into a passion of tears. The mention of that dear name had overcome him. I see that you have and that you love her. Lead me down, and you shall join her again. I will never betray them. I will die first. Do with me what you wish. If I had any evil intentions, said Marcellus, do you think I would go down unaccompanied? What can a soldier and a praetorian want with the persecuted Christians if not to destroy them? Boy, I have no evil intentions. If you guide me down below, I swear I will not use my knowledge against your friends. When I am below, I will be your prisoner, and they can do with me what they like. Do you swear that you will not betray them? I do, by the life of Caesar and the immortal gods, said Marcellus solemnly. Come along, then, said the boy. We do not need torches. Follow me carefully. And the lad entered the narrow opening. Chapter 4 The Catacombs No light, but rather darkness visible, served only to discover sights of woe, regions of sorrow, doleful shades. They went on in utter darkness until at length the passage widened, and they came to steps which led below. Marcellus held the boy's dress and followed him. It was certainly a situation that might provoke alarm. He was voluntarily placing himself in the power of men whom his class had driven from the upper air into those drear abodes. To them he could only be known as a persecutor. Yet such was the impression which he had formed of their gentleness and meekness that he had no fear of harm. It was in the power of this boy to lead him to death in the thick darkness of those impenetrable labyrinths. But even of this he did not think. It was a desire to know more of these Christians, to get at their secret, that led him on. And as he had sworn, so had he resolved, that this visit should not be made use of to their betrayal or their injury. After descending for some time, they walked along the level ground. Soon they turned and entered a small vaulted chamber which was lighted from the faint glow of a furnace. The boy had walked on with the unhesitating step of one perfectly familiar with the way. Arriving at the chamber, he lighted a torch which lay on the floor and resumed his journey. There is something in the air of a burial place which is unlike that of any other place. It is not altogether the closeness or the damp or the sickening smell of earth, but a certain subtle influence which unites them all and intensifies them. The smell of the dead is there, and it rests alike on mind and body. Such was the air of the catacombs. Cold and damp, it struck upon the visitor like the chill atmosphere from the realms of death. The living felt the mysterious power of death. The boy Palio went on before, and Marcellus followed after. The torch but faintly illumined the intense darkness. No beam of day, no ray, however weak, could ever enter here to relieve the thickness of the oppressive gloom. It was literally darkness that could be felt. The torchlight shone out but a few paces and then died in the darkness. The path went winding on with innumerable turnings. Suddenly, Palio stopped and pointed downward. Peering through the gloom, Marcellus saw an opening in the path which led farther down. It was a pit to which no bottom appeared. Where does this lead to? Below. Are there more passages below? Oh yes, as many as there are here, and still below that again. I have been in three different stories of these paths, and some of the old fosters say that in certain places they go down to a very great depth. The passage wound along till all idea of locality was utterly lost. Marcellus could not tell whether he was within a few paces of the entrance or many furlongs off. His bewildered thoughts soon began to turn to other things. As the first impressions of gloom departed, he looked more particularly upon what he passed and regarded more closely the many wonders of this strange place. All along the walls were tablets which appeared to cover long and narrow excavations. These cellular niches were arranged on both sides so closely that but little space was left between them. The inscriptions that were upon the tablets showed that they were Christian tombs. He had not time to stop and read, but he noticed the frequent recurrence of the same expressions, such as, On nearly every tablet he saw the same sweet, gentle word, Peace. Thought Marcellus, What wonderful people are these Christians who even amidst such scenes as these can cherish their lofty contempt of death. On nearly every tablet he saw the same sweet, gentle word, Peace. Thought Marcellus, What wonderful people are these Christians who even amidst such scenes as these can cherish their lofty contempt of death. His eyes grew more and more accustomed to the gloom as he walked along. Now the passageway grew narrower, the roof dropped, the sides approached. They had to stoop and go along more slowly. The walls were rough and rudely cut as the workmen left them when they drew along here their last load of sand for the edifices above. Subterranean damps and fungus growths overspread them in places, deepening their somber color and filling the air with thick moisture, while the smoke of the torches made the atmosphere still more oppressive. They passed hundreds of side passages and scores of places where many paths met, all branching off in different directions. These innumerable paths showed Marcellus how hopelessly he was now cut off from the world above. The boy held his life in his hands. Do any ever lose their way? Often. What becomes of them? Sometimes they wander so they meet some friends, sometimes they're never heard of again. But at present most of us know the place so well that if we lose our way we soon wander into familiar paths again. One thing particularly struck the young soldier, and that was the immense preponderance of small tombs. Palio told him they were those of children, and thus opened to him thoughts and emotions unfelt before. Children, thought he. What do they hear, the young, the pure, the innocent? Why were they not buried above, where the sun might shine kindly and the flowers bloom sweetly over their graves? Did they tread such dark paths as these on their way through life? Did they bear their part in the sufferings of those that linger here, fleeing from persecution? Did the noxious air and the never-ending gloom of these drear abodes shorten their fair young lives, and send their stainless spirits out of life before their time? We've been a long time on the way, said Marcellus. Will we soon be there? Very soon, said the boy. Whatever ideas Marcellus might have had about hunting out these fugitives before he entered here, he now saw that all attempts to do so must be in vain. An army of men might enter here and never come in sight of the Christians. The farther they went, the more hopeless would be their journey. They would be scattered through the innumerable passages and wander about till they died. But now a low sound arose from afar which arrested his attention. Sweet beyond all description, low and musical, it came down the long passages and broke upon his charmed senses like a voice from the skies. As they went on, a light beamed before them which cast forth its rays into the darkness. The sounds grew louder, now swelling into a magnificent chorus, now dying away into a tender wail of supplication. In a few minutes, they reached a turn in the path and then a scene burst upon their sight. Stop, said Pollio, arresting his companion and extinguishing the torch. Marcellus obeyed and looked earnestly at the spectacle before him. It was a vaulted chamber about fifteen feet in height and thirty feet square. In this place there were crowded about a hundred people, men, women and children. At one side there was a table, behind which stood a venerable man who appeared to be the leader among them. The place was illuminated with the glare of torches which threw a lurid glow upon the assembly. The people were careworn and emaciated and their faces were characterized by the same pallor which Marcellus had observed in the fossil. But the expression which now rested upon them was not of sorrow or misery or despair. Hope illuminated their eyes. Their upturned faces spoke of joy and triumph. The scene moved the soul of the beholder to its inmost depths for it confirmed all that he had seen of the Christians, their heroism, their hope, their peace, which rested on something hidden from him. As he listened, he heard their song chanted by the whole congregation. Great and marvelous are Thy works, Lord God Almighty! Just and true are Thy ways, Thou King of saints! Who shall not fear Thee, O Lord, and glorify Thy name? For Thou only art holy. For all nations shall come and worship before Thee, for Thy judgments are made manifest. Then there was a pause. The venerable leader read something from a scroll which was new to Marcellus. It was a sublime assertion of the immortality of the soul and life after death. The congregation seemed to hang upon the words as though they were the words of life. Finally, the reader came to a burst of joyous exclamation which drew murmurs of gratitude and enthusiastic hope from the audience. The words thrilled upon the heart of the listener, though he did not understand their full meaning. O death, where is Thy sting? O grave, where is Thy victory? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law, but thanks be to God which gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. These words seemed to open to his mind a new world with new thoughts. Sin, death, Christ. With all the infinite train of ideas that rested upon them, arose dimly before his awakening soul. The desire for the Christian secret which he had conceived now burned more eagerly within him. The leader raised his head and, stretching out his hands, uttered a fervent prayer. Addressing the invisible God, he poured forth a confession of unworthiness and gave thanks for cleansing from sin through the atoning blood of Christ. He prayed that the spirit from on high might so work within that they would become holy. Then he enumerated their sorrows and prayed for deliverance, asking for faith in life, victory in death, and abundant entrance into heaven for the sake of the Redeemer, Jesus. After this followed another chant which was sung as before. Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor sighing. Neither shall there be any more pain. For the former things are passed away. Amen. Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be unto our God forever and ever. Amen. Now the congregation began to disperse. Paulio walked forward leading Marcellus. At the sight of his martial figure and glittering armor, they all started back and would have fled by different paths, but Marcellus called in a loud voice, Fear not, Christians. I am alone and in your power. Upon this they all turned back and looked at him with anxious curiosity. The aged man who led the meeting advanced and looked earnestly upon him. Who are you, and why do you seek us out in the last resting place that is left to us on earth? Do not suspect me of evil. I come alone, unattended. I am at your mercy. But what can a soldier and a praetorian wish with us? Are you pursued? Are you a criminal? Is your life in danger? No, I am an officer high in rank and authority, but I have all my life been seeking anxiously after the truth. I have heard much of you Christians, but in these times of persecution it is difficult to find you in Rome. I have sought you here. At this the aged man requested the assembly to withdraw, that he might converse with the newcomer. The others readily did so and retired by different ways, feeling much relieved. A pale lady advanced eagerly to Palio and caught him in her arms. How long you were my son! I encountered this officer, dear mother, and was detained. Thank God you are safe, but who is he? I think he is an honest man, said the boy. See how he confides in us. Cecilia, said the leader, do not go away for a little time. The lady remained and a few others did the same. I am Honorius, said the old man addressing Marcellus, a humble elder in the Church of Christ. I believe that you are sincere and earnest. Tell us now what you want with us. My name is Marcellus, and I am a captain in the praetorian guard. Alas, cried Honorius, clasping his hands, he fell back in his seat. The others looked at Marcellus with mournful eyes, and the lady Cecilia cried out in an agony of grief, O Palio, how have you betrayed us! Chapter 5 The Christian's Secret The Mystery of Godliness God Manifest in the Flesh The young soldier stood astonished at the effect which his name produced. Why do you all tremble so, said he? Is it on my account? Alas, said Honorius, though we are banished to this place, we have constant communication with the city. We have heard that new efforts were to be made to persecute us more severely, and that Marcellus, a captain in the praetorian, has been appointed to search us out. We see you here among us, our chief enemy. Have we not cause to fear? Why should you track us here? You have no cause to fear me, cried Marcellus, even if I were your worst enemy. Am I not in your power? If you choose to detain me, could I escape? If you killed me, could I resist? I am helpless among you. My situation here, alone among you, is proof that there is no danger from me. True, said Honorius, resuming his calm demeanor, you are right. You could never return without our assistance. Hear me then, and I will explain all to you. I am a Roman soldier. I was born in Spain and was brought up in virtue and morality. I was taught to fear the gods and do my duty. I have been in many lands and have confined myself chiefly to my profession. Yet I have never neglected religion. In my chamber I have studied all the writings of the philosophers of Greece and Rome. The result is that I have learned from them to despise our gods and goddesses who are no better and even worse than myself. From Plato and Cicero I learned that there is one supreme deity whom it is my duty to obey, but how can I know him, and how shall I obey him? I learned, too, that I am immortal and shall become a spirit when I die. How shall I be then? Shall I be happy or miserable? How shall I secure happiness in that spiritual life? They describe the glories of that immortal life in eloquent language, but they give no directions for common men like me. To learn more of this is the desire of my soul. The priests can tell me nothing. They are wedded to old forms and ceremonies in which they do not believe. The old religion is dead, and men care for it no more. In different lands I have heard much of Christians. Shut up in the camp, I have not had much opportunity to see them. Indeed, I never cared to know them until lately. I have heard all the usual reports about their immorality, their secret vice, their treasonable doctrines. I believed all this until lately. A few days ago I was in the Colosseum. There first I learned something about the Christians. I saw the gladiator Macer, a man to whom fear was utterly unknown, lay down his life calmly rather than do what he believed to be wrong. I saw an old man meet death with a peaceful smile. And above all, I saw a band of young girls give themselves up to wild beasts with a song of triumph on their lips, and a hymn that loved us, that washed us from our sins. As Marcella spoke, a wonderful effect was produced. The eyes of the listeners glistened with eagerness and joy. When he mentioned Macer, they looked at each other with meaningful glances. When he spoke of the old man, Honorius bowed his head. And when he spoke of the children and murmured the words of their song, they turned away their faces and wept. For the first time in my life, I saw death conquered. I myself can meet death without terror, so can every soldier. When he comes to it in the battlefield, it is our profession. But these people rejoiced in death. Here were not soldiers, but children, who carried the same wonderful feeling in their hearts. Since then I have thought of nothing else. Who is he that loved you? Who is he that washes you from your sins? Who is he that causes this sublime courage and hope to arise within you? What is it that supports you here? Who is he to whom you were just now praying? I have a commission to lead soldiers against you and destroy you. But I wish to learn more of you first. And I swear by the Supreme that my present visit shall bring no harm to you. Tell me then the Christian secret. Your words, said Honorius, are true and sincere. Now I know that you are no spy or enemy, but an inquiring soul centered by the Spirit to learn that which you have been long seeking. Rejoice, for he that cometh unto Christ shall in no wise be cast out. You see before you men and women, who have left friends and home and honor and wealth to live here in want and fear and sorrow. And they count all this as nothing for Christ. Yes, they count even their own lives nothing. They give up all for Him who loved them. You are right, Marcellus, in thinking that there is some great power which can do this.