new and pernicious superstition." This is all that the courtly Sue. tonius condescends to say of those remarkable men, in this place. But it is enough to vindicate early Christianity from the slanders of infidelity. The charge made by Nero's biographer is, that they were "superstitious." But when was superstition a crime at Rome before? While Nero himself was ordering matrons to celebrate the rites of that divine shrew, Juno, all night in the Capitol: while water was brought from the Mediterranean, at his order, to sprinkle the temple and statue of the goddess; while the god of fire, the goddess of corn and the wife of the king of hell were prayed to perpetually, day and night, in pursuance of a royal edict, the poor Christians were guilty of superstition. But the superstition was "new," says Suetonius. It is against the laws of Rome, that any ceremonies of religion except those of the Pagan theology shall be observed. Church and State-the unwholesome amalgamation of the spiritual with the temporal-is known, practically, in these barbarous eras of old Rome.

But Suetonius says the Christian superstition is "pernicious." But in what respect it is pernicious, he does not and cannot tell. He brings no specific charge against the followers of Christ. If superstition was their only offence, and this was, as a matter of fact, no crime, how spotless must have been their lives! how unjust is Suetonius!

In his biography of the cowardly Claudius, who had the heart of a slave in the breast of a king, Suetonius alludes to the Christians a second time: and these two are the only instances, in which, among all his sketches of the royal succession of the Empire, the saints of old are mentioned.

Just before he speaks of the abolition of the Druidical religion "a religion full of fearful enormities "-among the Gauls, he says that Claudius banished from Rome all Jews, who were " perpetually in tumult" under the instigation of Christ. Our Saviour had been dead, at this time, nearly or quite twenty years: so that I am at a loss, my friend, whether to hold the statement up to you as a proof of the ignorance of the higher classes of Rome concerning Christ, or as an evidence of their reckless injustice towards his followers. The charge of ignorance is not so absurd as may be imagined. For, in this very passage, Christ is called Chrestus instead of Christus-a word of very different derivation and meaning. Chrestus means "A Useful Man," or rather, perhaps, "A Good Man." Christus means, as you know, "The Anointed." The same mistake may be made in Christian lands. Intelligent people may regard him too much as a "Good Man," too little as Christus Jesus, the "Anointed Saviour."

But what was the "tumult" of the converted Jews? Certainly, no riotous or criminal act was committed by them. History records none. Their tumult was, undoubtedly, a steadfast adherence to their own opinions and ceremonies. No doubt, they came in conflict with the Roman laws, prohibiting new rites of religion

and popular assemblies. No doubt, they would meet together on the Sabbath day and offer strange tributes to the "Unknown God." And it was, we must believe, in the silence of history on the subject, for this that the Jews were banished from Rome. Which was the more just, the banishment of the Jews by the tyrant Nicholas of Russia or by the tyrant Claudius of Rome?

The details of Nero's treatment of the Christians are more fully set forth by Tacitus. It shows in what utter hatred they were regarded by the mob of Rome at that day. How fearful must have been their sufferings: hunted and persecuted by power without receiving protection from their fellow-subjects: driven by the hatred of the rabble into the iron hand of a tyrant, anxious to commend his cruelties to the approbation of the populace.

The Great Conflagration of Rome, which raged for several days and swept over nearly the whole city, had scarcely ceased to smoulder, before the universal impression seized upon the public mind that Nero-the emperor-was the incendiary. The latter, conscious of his guilt, either feared or knew that his habitual barbarity could not crush the suspicion. The unblushing assassin of his mother quailed before the universal contempt of his subjects. He felt that he had committed an act, unprecedented in the annals of wickedness. A king, in the cruelty of his spirit, had set fire to the chief city of his empire, and watching the spreading flames from the heights of his palace, had sung the "Burning of Troy," to the accompaniment of his harp, in the fullness of his exulta

tion.

In his cowardly attempts to shrink from public scorn, he commenced the rebuilding of Rome on a scale of exceeding magnificence. Streets were narrowed, and the city was crowded with edifices more compactly than ever before. He also made bountiful distributions of money and food to the people to buy their favor, while he really only inflamed their suspicions. Having vainly exhausted physical means to pacify his judges-the people-he tried one of the last refuges of detected scoundrels, and turned very religious. He celebrated rites of sacrifice and supplication with unexampled pomp. But truth, which could not be hidden by external splendor, or blinded by demonstrations of liberality, escaped also the wiles of religious hypocrisy. He was driven to his last resource.

He feigned that he had discovered the guilty authors of the conflagration, and, not to ruin his pretexts by exciting the sympathy and indignation of the rabble, he selected, as the victims of his freak of assumed justice, a class of persons so universally detested and odious as to be unable to arouse the pity of any grade of Roman society. Who, do you think, were they? The disciples of Barabbas, the robber? The slaves? The captives of war? No-THE CHRISTIANS OF ROME. "Those," says Tacitus, "whom the common people call Christians;" as if the mob were the only persons who had any knowledge or care of the early saints.

Tacitus remarks that they were "odious on account of their crimes." Here occurs the old mystery. A sweeping generalization forbids us to know what crimes they have committed. Is it not evident, that vague rumors o the prejudice of the Chrstians were afloat among the common people, which never took any definite form but left the general impression that they were bands of mysterious outlaws? Thus would those," of whom the world is not worthy," appear to the world in an age of ignorance and brutality.

The historian condescends to give us a brief description of these holy men. "The founder of the name (Christian,) was Christ, who was punished by Pontius Pilate, provincial governor in the reign of Tiberius. The deadly superstition, checked for a time, was at this time breaking out anew, not only in Judea, the birthplace of the mischief, but THROUGHOUT THE CITY (Rome) even, where all atrocities and enormities meet, mingle and are fostered." Such is the picture drawn by the eloquent, terse and impartial Tacitus, of the Christian faith. He did not stand on the "mount of vision," when he .. wrote such words. He did not see a time, when this "deadly superstition" should become the soul of the world; should plant the emblems of its inextinguishable life upon every hill and in every valley; should brighten the hopes of all mankind and rule the broad earth without rod, or sceptre, or army or throne. How do its humble, depressed beginnings add lustre to the triumphs of Christianity!

Let me pursue the narrative of Nero's treatment of the Christians. "They were punished with the most ignominious tortures," says Tacitus. "First, some were arrested, who confessed their guilt. Then, by the testimony of these last, a great multitude were added to the convicted. They were condemned, not because they were guilty, but on account of the hatred of all mankind. And of their sufferings amusement was made. They were covered with the skins of wild beasts, and, as such, torn in pieces by dogs. They were fastened to the cross, or covered with combustible substances and, when daylight faded, were lighted to make nocturnal fire-works. Nero even surrendered his own garden for these entertainments, and fitted up a circus for such exhibitions, mingling with the people dressed as a character, or seated upon his chariot. Thus there arose in behalf of these persons, although they were criminals and deserved to be made examples of in the most extraordinary manner, a sympathy; because it was plain that they were swept off, not for the public good, but to glut the cruelty of one man."

Many thoughts will arise on the hearing of such a narrative. The spread of Christianity, "not only in Judea but throughout the city," added to the fact, that a "great multitude," were

"Butchered to make a Roman holiday,"

shows that the activity of Christian principles, though silent, had

an extensive range. The circumstances of their arrest and punishment show that the Christians were firmly banded together in suffering as well as in their ordinary sympathies: that they would not deny their character, and submitted gloriously to the most refined tortures. It will also be observed that Tacitus, as by a slip of the pen, acknowledges the innocence of the Christians. His vague remarks upon their deserts as criminals, show that his prejudices were at once intense and unfounded.

I know of but one other allusion to the Christians in any classical writer. This is to be found in the celebrated letter of Pliny the younger. Perhaps you have read it. Perhaps you have not read it recently. Let me refresh your recollections of it.

Pliny was an honest man; a beautiful writer; a faithful magistrate; of the age of forty-two. He was appointed by the Emperor Trajan, governor of the province of Bythinia and kept up, during his term of office, a most interesting correspondence with that prince-which is still extant. He was sagacious and enjoyed the confidence of Trajan to the fullest extent. He was even indulged in extraordinary privileges while engaged in the duties of his position-a fact, indicating that he was a man of great honesty of purpose and fidelity in the discharge of duty. During his administration, Pliny's attention was called to the Christians in his province. The course, which he ought to pursue, was by no means clear. He corresponded with Trajan on the subject, and his letter, with the Emperor's reply, makes the most important testimonial with regard to the ancient Christians, furnished by profane writers. I will read them entire; interrupting myself when I think proper.

"Pliny to the Emperor Trajan, Greeting. It is my habit, Sire, to refer to you all matters concerning which I am in doubt. For who can better guide me when I hesitate or inform my ignorance?

"I was never present at any legal investigations, which have been had [in Rome,] about the Christians: for this reason, I do not know concerning what matters or to what extent they ought to be questioned or punished."

This indicates that courts of inquiry were held confining themselves probably to the examination of the accused persons themselves concerning those reputed to be Christians at Rome; probably frequently. Pliny knew of them, or of their proceedings, only by report. Still it is credible that he knew enough of the course of inquiry to conduct his investigation substantially after the Roman model. He continues:

"And I have been very much in doubt, whether any thing should be allowed for difference of age in the culprits: or how much distinction should be made between those of tender age and those who have reached maturity."

From this it may justly be inferred that very young persons were charged with being Christians and would not deny it; for Pliny

considered those only worthy of punishment, who persisted in their faith.

"I doubted, too, whether penitents should be pardoned or whether it should be of no avail for him, who has been a Christian at all, to renounce his error; whether they ought to be punished merely for bearing the name of Christian, without any overt act of crime, or for the crime inherent in the name itself."

The mild judgment of Pliny could hardly appreciate the wickedness of bearing a name.

"Meanwhile, I have pursued this course with respect to those who have been informed against, before me, for being Christians. I have asked them whether they were Christians. When they con fessed, I repeated the question a second and third time, threatening punishment. Those who then persisted in their confession, I ordered to be led away to punishment. For I had no doubt, whatever might be the nature of the crime they confessed, that such perversity and inflexible obstinacy ought to be strongly dealt with.

This part of Pliny's narrative shows how awkward and embarrassed he was in conducting these strange proceedings. His candor could not find fault in the Christians any more than Pilate could find it in Christ. To be a Christian was, in Pliny's viewa view borrowed from the blind rumors of the metropolis-a vague and undefined crime, deserving punishment; but why it deserved it, he could not ascertain. At least, he soothes his conscience and bends to the prejudices of the people by punishing their fidelity to their principles, their courage, their devotion, their veracity. Those he calls "perversity and inflexible obstinacy. He had never heard of men who go to the stake and to the rack as to a bridal, for opinion's sake.

"There were others, spoiled by the same infatuation, whom, as they were Roman citizens, I have designated to be sent to the city." You understand fully, my friend, the mysterious exemptions of the citizens of Rome.

"The crime began at once to spread, as is often the case, while it was undergoing legal process, and presented itself in a variety of forms. An anonymous information was brought forward, containing the names of a large number, but they denied that they were or had been Christians; they invoked our gods and did homage with incense and libations of wine to your statue, which I had, with a view to this emergency, caused to be set up there with the images of the deities; moreover, they reviled Christ. Now it is said that those, WHO ARE IN REALITY CHRISTIANS, CANNOT BE FORCED TO DO ANY OF THESE THINGS. On this account, I thought proper to dismiss the accused."

It is plain that there were many wolves in the Christian fold of ancient times; mere pretenders to the name. They found enough in Christianity to charm their fancy and attract their allegiance while danger was remote, but who were ready to "fall away,"