Olive Leaves; Or, Sketches of Character

by L. H. Sigourney

Then it was told the Emperor, that there was in the camp an Egyptian, who boasted that the gods of his country could give rain.

"Call him forth!" was the imperial command, "bid him pray for water to relieve our thirst, and make to his gods any offerings that spirit propitiate them."

The dark-browed man came forward and with many ceremonies invoked Isis, the goddess who presided over the waters. He implored her with the most piercing earnestness to be gracious, and give rain. Thus the idol-priests, during the long drought in Israel, under Ahab, when the grass and brooks dried up, and the cattle died, cried in their frantic sacrifices, "from morning until noon, Oh Baal! hear us. But there was no voice, neither any that regarded."

In the pause of despair that ensued, some Christian soldiers, who had been constrained to join the army, were led forward. Kneeling on the glowing sands, they besought the Great Maker of heaven and earth, for the sake of their dear crucified Saviour, to pity, and to save. Solemnly arose their voices in that time of trouble.

But the interval allotted to this supplication of faith was brief. The conflict might no longer be deferred. As they approached to join in battle, the enemy exulted to see the Roman soldiers perishing with thirst, and worn almost to skeletons, through famine and hardship.

Suddenly the skies grew black. At first a few large drops fell, Heaven's sweet promise of mercy. Then came a plentiful shower, then rain in torrents. The sufferers, with shouts of joy, caught it in their helmets, and in the hollow of their shields. The blessed draught gave them new strength and courage.

While they were yet drinking, their foes rushed upon them, and blood was mingled with the water that quenched their thirst. But the storm grew more terrible, with keen flashes of lightning, and thunder heavily reverberating from rock to rock. The barbarians, smitten with sudden panic, exclaimed that the gods fought against them with the fires of heaven, and fled from the field. Thus the fortune of the day was turned, and the vanquished left victors.

Marcus Aurelius received this deliverance with deep gratitude. In his heart he connected it with the prayer of the Christians, and caused their persecutions to cease. An ancient historian mentions that the soldiers who had thus supplicated for relief, received the name of the "thundering legion," and were permitted to have a thunderbolt graven on their shields, as a memorial of the tempest that had discomfited their enemies, and saved the Roman forces, when ready to perish. The Emperor, in his letter to the Senate, recorded the events of that wonderful occasion, which, among others connected with the war he then conducted, were sculptured on the Antonine column, still standing in the city of Rome.

When the career of Marcus Aurelius terminated, and his time came to die, he gave parting advice to his son and successor, Commodus, solemnly charging his chief officers and the friends who loved him, to aid him in the discharge of his duties. Though he uttered so many precepts of wisdom and fatherly tenderness, it still seemed as if much was left unspoken, which he would fain have said. Anxious care sat upon his brow after his pale lips breathed no sound. It was supposed that this trouble was for his son, in whose right dispositions and habits he could have little confidence.

Commodus was the only son of Marcus Aurelius, his twin brother having died during infancy. The utmost pains had been taken with his education. But he had no love of knowledge, preferring sports or idleness, having no correct value of the preciousness of time.