Zenobia; or, the Fall of Palmyra

by William Ware

After many mutual inquiries concerning each other's welfare, we separated.

Upon returning to the house of Gracchus, and finding myself again in the company of Fausta and her father, I said: 'I go to-night to hear a Christian, the Christian Probus, discourse concerning the Christian doctrine. Will you accompany me, Fausta?'

'Not now, Lucius,' she replied; 'my head and heart are too full of the interests and cares of Zenobia, to allow me to think of aught else. No other reason, I assure you, prevents. I have no fears of the opinions of others to hinder me. When our public affairs are once more in a settled state, I shall not be slow to learn more of the religion of which you speak. Julia's attachment to it, of itself, has almost made a convert of me already, so full of sympathy in all things is a true affection. But the heart is a poor logician. It darts to its object, overleaping all reasons, and may as well rest in error as truth. Whatever the purity of Julia and the honesty and vigor of Zenobia accept and worship, I believe I should, without further investigation, though they were the fooleries and gods of Egypt, Did you succeed in your search of the Arab?'

'No: but perhaps Milo has. To tell the truth, I was soon diverted from that object, first by the excitement I found prevailing among the people on the affairs of the kingdom, and afterward by the spectacles of the Portico, and the preaching of Probus, whom I encountered there.'

In the evening, soon as the sun was set, I wound my way to the Christians' place of worship.

It was in a part of the city remote and obscure, indicating very plainly that whatever Christianity may be destined to accomplish in this city, it has done little as yet. Indeed, I do not perceive what principle of strength or power it possesses, sufficient to force its way through the world, and into the hearts of men. It allows not the use of the sword; it resorts not to the civil arm; it is devoid of all that should win upon the senses of the multitude, being, beyond all other forms of faith, remarkable for its simplicity, for its spiritual and intellectual character. Moreover, it is stern and uncompromising in its morality, requiring the strictest purity of life, and making virtue to consist not in the outward act, but in the secret motive which prompts the act. It is at open and unintermitting war with all the vain and vicious inclinations of the heart. It insists upon an undivided sovereignty over the whole character and life of the individual. And in return for such surrender, it bestows no other reward than an inward consciousness of right action, and of the approbation of God, with the hope of immortality. It seems thus to have man's whole nature, and all the institutions of the world, especially of other existing religions, to contend with. If it prevail against such odds, and with such means as it alone employs, it surely will carry along with it its own demonstration of its divinity. But how it shall have power to achieve such conquests, I now cannot see nor conjecture.

Arriving at the place designated by Probus, I found a low building of stone, which seemed to have been diverted from former uses of a different kind, to serve its present purpose as a temple of religious worship. Passing through a door, of height scarce sufficient to admit a person of ordinary stature, I reached a vestibule, from which by a descent of a few steps I entered a large circular apartment, low but not inelegant, with a vaulted ceiling supported by chaste Ionic columns. The assembly was already seated, but the worship not begun. The service consisted of prayers to God, offered in the name of Christ; of reading a portion of the sacred books of the Christians, of preaching, of music sung to religious words, and voluntary offerings of money or other gifts for the poor.

I cannot doubt that you are repelled, my Curtius, by this account of a worship of such simplicity as to amount almost to poverty. But I must tell you that never have I been so overwhelmed by emotions of the noblest kind, as when sitting in the midst of these despised Nazarenes, and joining in their devotions; for to sit neuter in such a scene, it was not in my nature to do, nor would it have been in yours, much as you affect to despise this 'superstitious race.' This was indeed worship. It was a true communion of the creature with the Creator. Never before had I heard a prayer. How different from the loud and declamatory harangues of our priests! the full and rich tones of the voice of Probus, expressive of deepest reverence of the Being he addressed, and of profoundest humility on the part of the worshipper, seeming too as if uttered in no part by the usual organs of speech, but as if pronounced by the very heart itself, fell upon the charmed ear like notes from another world. There was a new and strange union, both in the manner of the Christian and in the sentiments he expressed, of an awe such as I never before witnessed in man towards the gods, and a familiarity and child-like confidence, that made me feel as if the God to whom he prayed was a father and a friend, in a much higher sense than we are accustomed to regard the Creator of the universe. It was a child soliciting mercies from a kind and considerate parent--conscious of much frailty and ill desert, but relying too with a perfect trust, both upon the equity and benignity of the God of his faith. I received an impression also from the quiet and breathless silence of the apartment, from the low and but just audible voice of the preacher, of the near neighborhood of gods and men, of the universal presence of the infinite spirit of the Deity, which certainly I had never received before. I could hardly divest myself of the feeling that the God addressed was in truth in the midst of the temple; and I found my eye turning to the ceiling, as if there must be some visible manifestation of his presence. I wish you could have been there. I am sure that after witnessing such devotions, contempt or ridicule would be the last emotions you would ever entertain toward this people. Neither could you any longer apply to them the terms fanatic, enthusiast, or superstitious. You would have seen a calmness, a sobriety, a decency, so remarkable; you would have heard sentiments so rational, so instructive, so exalted, that you would have felt your prejudices breaking away and disappearing without any volition or act of your own. Nay, against your will they would have fallen. And nothing would have been left but the naked question--not is this faith beautiful and worthy--but is this religion true or false?

When the worship had been begun by prayer to God in the name of Christ, then one of the officiating priests opened the book of the Christians, the Gospels, and read from the Greek, in which they are written--changing it into the Palmyrene dialect as he read--diverse passages, some relating to the life of Jesus, and others which were extracts of letters written by apostles of his to individuals or churches, to which I listened with attention and pleasure. When this was over, Probus rose, standing upon a low platform like the rostrums from which our lawyers plead, and first reading a sentence from the sayings of Paul, an apostle of Jesus, of which this was the substance, 'Jesus came into the world, bringing life and immortality to light,' he delivered, with a most winning and persuasive beauty, a discourse, or oration, the purpose of which was to show, that Jesus was sent into the world to bring to light or make plain the true character and end of the life on earth, and also the reality and true nature of a future existence. In doing this, he exposed--but in a manner so full of the most earnest humanity that no one could be offended--the errors of many of the philosophers concerning a happy life, and compared with the greatest force their requisitions with those of the gospel, 'as he termed his religion; showing what unworthy and inadequate conceptions had prevailed as to what constitutes a man truly great, and good, and happy. Then he went on to show, that it was such a life only as he had described that could make a being like man worthy of immortality; that although Jesus had proved the reality of a future and immortal existence, yet he had, with even more importunity, and earnestness, and frequency, laid down his precepts touching a virtuous life on earth. He finally went into the Christian argument in proof of a future existence, and exhorted those who heard him, and who desired to inhabit the Christian's heaven, to live the life which Christ had brought to light, and himself had exemplified on earth, laboring to impress their minds with the fact, that it was a superior goodness which made Jesus what he was, and that it must be by a similar goodness that his followers could fit themselves for the immortality he had revealed. All this was with frequent reference to existing opinions and practices, and with large illustrations drawn from ancient and modern religious history.

What struck me most, after having listened to the discourse of Probus to the end, was the practical aim and character of the religion he preached. It was no fanciful speculation nor airy dream. It was not a plaything of the imagination he had been holding up to our contemplation, but a series of truths and doctrines bearing with eminent directness, and with a perfect adaptation, upon human life, the effect and issue of which, widely and cordially received, must be to give birth to a condition of humanity not now any where to be found on the earth. I was startled by no confounding and overwhelming mysteries; neither my faith nor my reason was burdened or offended; but I was shown, as by a light from heaven, how truly the path which leads to the possession and enjoyment of a future existence coincides with that which conducts to the best happiness of earth. It was a religion addressed to the reason and the affections; and evidence enough was afforded in the representations given of its more important truths, that it was furnished with ample power to convince and exalt the reason, to satisfy and fill the affections. No sooner shall I have returned to the leisure of my home, to my study and my books, than I shall seriously undertake an examination of the Christian argument. It surely becomes those who fill the place in the social state which I do, to make up an intelligent judgment upon a question like this, so that I may stand prepared to defend it, and urge it upon my countrymen, if I am convinced of its truth and of its advantage to my country, or assail and oppose it, if I shall determine it to be what it is so frequently termed, a pernicious and hateful superstition.