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 X)i8dple 
 
 Cbe Cbronick of 
 Quititus, the Roman Knight 
 
 By 
 
 ARTHUR BENTON SANFORD 
 
 THE ABINGDON PRESS 
 NEW YORK CINCINNATI 
 

 Copyright. 1922, by 
 
 ARTHUR BENTON SANFORD 
 
 FVinted in the 
 
 Unst«d States of Aroen'c 
 
 0)C!.A659143 
 
 M1\R 15 1922 
 
IN MEMORY 
 
 OF 
 
 ABSENT ONES 
 
 WHO 
 
 HAVE ENTERED 
 
 INTO LIFE 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 An Opening Word 7 
 
 I. A Roman Quest 11 
 
 II. In Solomon's PorcK 20 
 
 III. CKrist Himself tke Witness 
 
 to Immortality 27 
 
 IV. Cicero or Christ? 34 
 
 V. Tlie Vision of tke Risen 
 
 Christ 39 
 
 VI. Christ's Witnesses at Rome 46 
 
AN OPENING WORD 
 
 QANY voices had been 
 speakingf of eternal 
 life, before tke days of the 
 Son of man. Especially pro- 
 nounced had been the teach- 
 ings of the Egyptians that 
 there is another world. In 
 their > Acadian hymns the 
 Chaldasans had dimly fore- 
 told a future life. The belief 
 of the Parsees, as expressed 
 in their Zend-Avesta, had in- 
 cluded a place of darkness for 
 the evil soul and a reward for 
 the good in the realm of light. 
 The Hindus had declared, in 
 their Rig-Veda, their beautiful 
 conception of the immortality 
 of the soul, and had written of 
 a future "imperishable world, 
 where there is eternal light 
 and glory.'' The Grecian and 
 Roman mythologies had 
 voiced their hope of blessed- 
 ness for the shades of the de- 
 parted. Everyw^here serious 
 7 
 
men kad been asking as to tke 
 experiences teyond tlie grave. 
 It was as if the Eastern world 
 had become a vast parliament 
 chamber, w^herein the nations 
 were proclaiming their differ- 
 ent doctrines as to a future 
 life. 
 
 In the midst of these vary- 
 ing and uncertain voices, 
 Christ spoke his authoritative 
 message. There was no 
 w^avering m his tone. What 
 the Oriental philosophers 
 w^ere guessing, he revealed ; 
 w^hat the Hebrew^ prophets 
 had foreshadowed in their 
 holy w^ritmgs, he unfolded m 
 full light. The ancient Vedic 
 hymns, the oracles of Greece, 
 the Egyptian Book of ^^^ 
 Dead, anticipating by two 
 thousand years the Hebrew 
 exodus — all these are naught 
 compared with the words of 
 that inspired Teacher who 
 spoke in Palestine. 
 
 In addition, Christ was him- 
 self the vital evidence of the 
 resurrection which he taught. 
 Against the assaults of doubt 
 his unique teachings are but- 
 tressed forevermore by his 
 own return from the land of 
 silence. In a short week after 
 8 
 
his words to Martlia at Beth- 
 any he had become, through 
 his own rare experience, 'the 
 resurrection and the hfe/' 
 Not the dead Buddha, nor the 
 departed Zoroaster, nor the 
 vanished Pythagoras ever 
 came hack through the opened 
 door of the sepulcher, wearing 
 the grave clothes of those who 
 sleep. Human fancy had never 
 dreamed of such a rapturous 
 denouement for faiths other 
 than Christianity. The resur- 
 rection of the Lord is the 
 crowning narrative with the 
 which the Gospels close. It 
 is a risen Christ who repairs 
 the wastage of human decay 
 and death. A voice above all 
 those from Ind or Persia or 
 the Nile speaks henceforth in 
 Judasa and the world concern- 
 ing immortality. The superla- 
 tive Easter argument is the 
 risen Christ himself. 
 
I 
 
 A ROMAN QUEST 
 
 '*If one might only have a guide to 
 truth/' — Seneca. 
 
 N Scopus, tlie high moun-' 
 tain north of Jerusalem, 
 tne Roman camp was pitcned, 
 that last autumn m the min- 
 istry of Jesus of Nazareth. A 
 few years further on, if the 
 w^arriors of the Emperor Ti- 
 terius could then have fore- 
 seen the future, Titus w^as to 
 quarter his famous legions on 
 that vantagfe point; and from 
 its elevation he was to hurl 
 himself as a resistless batter- 
 ing ram against the Holy City. 
 But, on this autumn day, 
 when these chronicles begin, 
 no blare of trumpets was sum- 
 moning the Roman soldiery to 
 arms ; only the feet of the 
 camp sentinels, as they walked 
 their appointed rounds, broke 
 the quiet of the sunlit after- 
 noon. 
 
 11 
 
That lithesome, cultivated, 
 serious-minded youn^ knight, 
 Qumtus Cornelius Benigfnus, 
 IS standingf on the height 
 which overlooks the great me- 
 tropolis. He is the son of 
 Marcus Cornelius Magnus, 
 that Roman noble who is the 
 intimate associate of the 
 reigning Caesar, and who has 
 been a luxurious resident on 
 the Palatine Hill since his dis- 
 tinguished proconsulship in 
 Africa. 
 
 By the side of Quintus is 
 his fellow soldier Aulus. They 
 had spent their boyhood to- 
 gether among the scenes of 
 
 NOTE. It is not from any time- 
 marked Hebrew roll tliat this story 
 of Quintus is now taken. He was 
 of Roman tlood, and his record is, 
 rather, to he found in the Latin 
 literature of his time. Well it is 
 when some new leaf is discovered 
 among the musty folios, reciting 
 the saintly character and the 
 triumphs of those who lived when 
 Christianity was new. This record 
 shows the worth of consecrated 
 life and service in the days when 
 the luxurious Roman state most 
 needed a Christian citizenship. 
 ijut the lesson is none the less for 
 these last days, when the hope of 
 the world is in the creed of 
 Quintus. 
 
 12 
 
Rome; now they are com- 
 panions still, on tnis last 
 Roman expedition to tke dis- 
 trict of Judaea. While the com- 
 mon soldiery are throwmgf 
 their dice in the camp 
 thoroughfare, these are speak- 
 ing of more serious things. 
 The picture on which they look 
 from lofty Scopus includes the 
 shining roofs of Jerusalem, 
 the wooded Mount of Olives, 
 and the far landscape to the 
 south and west; its undula- 
 tions and brilliant colorings no 
 Roman artist might put upon 
 the canvas. 
 
 With the autumn haze cov- 
 ering the extended panorama, 
 Quintus says first to his com- 
 rade : 
 
 'What the fates have m 
 store for me, here in the city 
 of Hierosolyma, I am much 
 wondering. The day before 
 our trireme sailed from Brun- 
 disium for Tyrus I made a 
 visit to the augur's tent. His 
 prediction was that my jour- 
 ney hither would be followed 
 by strange consequences. The 
 flight of the birds through the 
 air did not reveal to him just 
 what was to occur; but that 
 13 
 
something eventful was to 
 take place he was very sure. 
 What IS to be my fortune?' 
 
 *^'Your lot it may be/' 
 answers Aulus, to perform 
 some daring deed, here in our 
 Jewish campaign ; and on your 
 return to Rome you may re- 
 ceive a great rew^ard from the 
 hand of Tiberius/' 
 
 Tn my mind this has 
 been/' replies Quintus; ''be* 
 fore I left Rome I had an 
 audience with our divine 
 Caesar, and he was pleased to 
 say that my fidelity here might 
 bring me special recompense. 
 Yet w^ould that be satisfying? 
 I have seen the triumphal pro- 
 cessions in the streets of 
 Rome, when heroes have been 
 acclaimed ; I have heard our 
 statesmen in the Senate hall, 
 and prize the joys of oratory; 
 I have been served all my 
 days by slaves in my father's 
 palace, and know the sw^eet- 
 ness of the Falernian wine in 
 the banquet room. A procon- 
 sulate, if I might come to that 
 dignity, would be a high honor 
 to write in my life story. But, 
 my dear Aulus, would there be 
 content in this? My restless 
 soul seems crying out for 
 14 
 
some tetter giit from tlie 
 gods/' 
 
 ^'It cannot be/' continues 
 Aulus, ''^that your heart's love 
 is involved. When our military 
 movements bring the Roman 
 knights to Palaestina, in their 
 pride of birth they do not wed 
 the black-eyed daughters of 
 the Je>vs. On your earlier ex- 
 pedition to Egypt you met a 
 princess of the land, but were 
 not let to espouse that swarthy 
 maiden of the Nile. The re- 
 ward of love cannot be the 
 experience of w^hich the augur 
 spoke at Brundisium.' 
 
 'Not so," says Qumtus in 
 response ; * as I was leaving 
 Rome, it w^as the beautiful 
 Lucretia who sent me forth 
 with her rare farewell. For 
 my return from Palaestina she 
 is now waiting ; and under the 
 blue skies of Italia we are to 
 wed. I have been wondering," 
 Quintus adds further, ""'if the 
 augur, watching the flight of 
 birds there at Brundisium, 
 could mean that I am to fall by 
 death, here m Palasstina, We 
 have not come for battle, but 
 to guard the peace. Yet it is 
 easy for Atropos, that cruel 
 fate, to clip the slender thread 
 15 
 
of life and send men on to tke 
 land of snades. If tkis was 
 wliat the augfur meant, no 
 Roman in the days of Tiberius 
 has ever set forth upon a more 
 serious adventure/' 
 
 'You are gfiven to melan- 
 choly, this autumn afternoon, 
 my comrade Quintus,'' the 
 other says ; Vou are feeling 
 that sadness which comes to 
 men when the Dryads move 
 over the earth and touch the 
 leaves into crimson and ^old 
 and brown/' 
 
 Not so,' answers Qumtus ; 
 out I am remembering that 
 I have come into a land where 
 a strange Teacher is speaking 
 to men of a future life. Yet are 
 men to live again? I have seen 
 the marble tombs on the Ap- 
 pia Via where the Scipios, the 
 Metelli, and so many more of 
 our great Romans lie asleep. 
 Shall I soon follow them? Is 
 it an endless slumber? What 
 is it that the new Rabbi from 
 Nazareth means, when m the 
 city yonder he speaks of an- 
 other life?" 
 
 """"A fig for your weird au- 
 tumn fancy," responds Aulus; 
 ''down to the streets of Hieros- 
 olyma w^e will go, and among 
 16 
 
their novel si^kts >ve will for- 
 get your serious meaitations. 
 
 They walk that afternoon 
 as sigfhtseers through the 
 crowded Jewish emporium. 
 The shops remind them, with 
 all their contrasts, of the 
 marts of Rome, for men 
 always and everywhere have 
 the trader's passion. In the 
 narrow^ streets of Jerusalem 
 they see the stir of many 
 activities. The workman is 
 hammering his brass ; the 
 shoemaker shapes his san- 
 dals ; the flax spinner is w^md- 
 ing his thread ; the scrite sits 
 on his mat, and is ready for 
 his writing. In the shops they 
 see costly merchandise for 
 sale — silks and jewels, fine 
 linens and perfumes, delicious 
 foods and drinks. These have 
 been imported from far Arabia 
 and India; they have been 
 brought from distant Persia 
 and Media. With all their 
 variety, no taste, however fit- 
 ful, need go unsatisfied. 
 
 What a motley crowd is on 
 the streets ! They hear the 
 Aramaic speech of Palestine, 
 w^hich Qumtus has been 
 taught by his Athenian tutor, 
 17 
 
and their ears also catck the 
 accents of other foreign 
 tongues. They meet traders 
 from western Zidon, sailors 
 from Crete, bearded Idu- 
 maeans from beyond Judaea, 
 and scholars from far Alex- 
 andria. Magnmcent Jerusa- 
 lem it IS ! Yet destined soon to 
 fall. For the day draws near 
 w^hen the Roman Titus shall 
 w^eep on Scopus over its fading 
 splendors and then shall smite 
 it to the dust. 
 
 One purchase only does 
 Quintus make. In a shop 
 w^here Egyptian wares are sold 
 he says to Aulus : 
 
 "Look on this scarab, this 
 sacred beetle, which has been 
 shaped by some workman 
 down in Thebae on the Nile. 
 We may be sure that no peo- 
 ple believes more intensely in 
 a future life. What compli- 
 ment they pay this physical 
 frame of men when they hold 
 that embalmment restores to 
 the soul its former body ! After 
 the judgment of Osiris, if their 
 lives be true, the w^orthy shall 
 enjoy the companionship of 
 the great god forever. No 
 other people wears such a visi- 
 ble emblem of their faith in 
 18 
 
another life. I will tuy this 
 scarab for an amulet against 
 accident and evil. 
 
 But where had the workman 
 gone w^ho once had shaped 
 that token of immortality? 
 Whither had vanished his 
 carver's skill? Where had dis-» 
 appeared his projects and his 
 dreams? Quintus is not think- 
 ing of any proconsulship he 
 may w^in, or even of the love 
 light in the eyes of Lucretia, 
 as he climbs again the heights 
 of Scopus. Rather he is med- 
 itating on the departed maker 
 of scarabs — and on the des- 
 tiny of the soul. For ages the 
 philosophers have been spec- 
 ulating about the future life. 
 Familiar is Quintus with the 
 view^s of Laelius and Seneca, 
 among the Roman inquirers, 
 and with the teachings of the 
 great Grecians who have 
 spoken in classic Athens. But 
 now the question leaps to the 
 front. Quintus is m the city 
 where Ayran travelers and 
 Persian magi and Egyptian 
 priests are busy telling their 
 theories of immortality. He is 
 in the very streets, besides, 
 where a sandaled Teacher 
 19 
 
from Nazareth is declaring 
 tliat the dead shall live again. 
 If but half IS true that this 
 strange Man is reputed to 
 have said, no priest of Jupiter 
 has ever uttered at Rome so 
 luminous a word. Can it be 
 that Quintus himself shall see 
 this Christus and hear his 
 message? If so, his will be in 
 very truth a momentous quest. 
 
 II 
 
 IN SOLOMON S PORCH 
 
 "Give me new consolation, ^reat 
 and strong, of wKicK I Kave 
 never keard or read." — Tiling. 
 
 '^£] I ' ITH increasing fre- 
 UkcA* quency Christ was now 
 speaking his prophecies of the 
 life immortal. In his earlier 
 ministry he had been dwelling 
 upon the presence of the 
 divine kingdom m the earth, 
 the practical conditions for 
 membership therein, and the 
 inclusion of Gentile as w^ell as 
 Jew in the gracious provision. 
 Novel w^ere his w^ords. Who- 
 ever had heard his discourse 
 20 
 
on tlie Mount or the parable 
 of tke lost sKeep was ricn be- 
 yond tlie modern sons of men. 
 But now, in the closing period 
 of his stay w^ith mortals, he 
 wsiS more frequently foretell- 
 ing the life to come. Like a 
 footworn traveler d r a w^ i n g 
 near the homeland, he w^as 
 keenly anticipating his return 
 to the spirit world. Those who 
 listened to him heard majestic 
 intimations of a celestial coun- 
 try w^hich eye had not beheld. 
 Nor is it to be thought that the 
 Gospels, m their restricted 
 pages, have recorded half his 
 words concerning the 
 heavenly land. 
 
 Now^ comes the opportunity 
 for Qumtus himself to hear 
 this new^ Teacher of the Jews. 
 A messenger from Pilate, sent 
 on an errand to the head- 
 quarters at Scopus, brings the 
 tidings that Christ is in Jeru- 
 salem as a visitor at the Feast 
 of Dedication. Favored are 
 those who hear through the 
 years the w^orld's commanding 
 voices ; beyond estimate is the 
 high privilege now granted 
 Quintus. 
 
 T will hasten m to Hieroso- 
 lyma,'' he says to Aulus, who 
 21 
 
IS detained by camp duties;^'! 
 \vill near nim for myself; and 
 I will tringf you back report 
 as to this latest prophet of 
 immortality/' 
 
 With his soldier's cloak 
 about him, m protection 
 against the winter's chill, 
 Quintus is aWay to Jerusalem. 
 The national Feast of Dedica- 
 tion attracts his notice. A 
 courteous Hebrew^ explains to 
 him that the joyful festival 
 commemorates the cleansing 
 of the Temple after its prof- 
 anation by Antiochus Epipha- 
 nes, tw^o hundred years be- 
 fore. The procession of pious 
 Jews, carrying their palm 
 branches and marching to the 
 heights of Moriah, the chant- 
 ing of the great Hallel within 
 the imposing fane, the ascrip- 
 tion of praise to Jehovah all 
 impress the keen-eyed soldier. 
 
 The enthusiasm of it all ! 
 Though of other blood, Quin- 
 tus clearly feels the thrill of 
 patriotism that stirs the multi- 
 tude about him ; and he under- 
 stands m some measure their 
 impatient w^aiting for the com- 
 ing prince who shall deliver 
 Israel. 
 
 22 
 
But is tkis all? Instead it is 
 only the beginning of the 
 wonders which the serious 
 Quintus is to witness. Forth 
 he passes to the eastern clois- 
 ter of the Temple, known then 
 among the Jews as Solomon s 
 Porch, in memory of their il- 
 lustrious king. The bystanders 
 tell Quintus that it is built of a 
 fragment of the first Temple 
 which Nebuchadnezzar had 
 left standing. As the soldier 
 looks down the far-reaching 
 aisle, he sees a quadruple row 
 of white Corinthian columns, 
 one hundred and sixty m num- 
 ber, and extending a length of 
 many hundred feet. The vista 
 is most amazing. Accustomed 
 though he has been all his 
 days to the magnificence of 
 the Roman architecture, he 
 yields in willing admiration to 
 the splendors of the Solomonic 
 porch. 
 
 Then— he sees the Christ! 
 Walking through that forest of 
 massive columns is the super- 
 lative Jew of his times, and of 
 all times. For now — when the 
 voices of that winter day are 
 still, and Solomon's Porch has 
 vanished where stood those 
 blessed feet — there is no 
 23 
 
earthly measurement by 
 wliick to estimate tke Man 
 whom Qumtus saw. 
 
 Amon^ the throng that sur- 
 round him hostile Pharisees 
 challenge him to tell them 
 plainly if he be the foretold 
 Messiah. With impatient 
 hearts they have waited longf 
 for their redemption. Let him 
 say if their deliverer has now 
 come. Then shall they throw 
 off the yoke of the detested 
 Roman rule and renew their 
 ancient monarchy w^ith en- 
 larging influence and increas- 
 ing splendors. 
 
 Memorable words in an- 
 swer does Qumtus hear. The 
 Stranger puts aside the 
 thought of the Jewish strug- 
 gle for an earthly throne, and 
 turns in his fancy to the quiet 
 pastures where feed the 
 flocks. He is a guardian Shep- 
 herd ; Israel and all the world 
 besides are his cherished 
 sheep. Those who are truly 
 his shall hear his guiding 
 voice, and shall follow him. 
 They shall never perish. From 
 the hand of the Shepherd no 
 vandal shall steal his own 
 away. How the w^ords thrill! 
 24 
 
Sometimes Quintus nas seen 
 in tlie Judaean pastures tlie 
 keeper with his flocks, and 
 knows how unchanging is his 
 fidelity. It is as if this watcher 
 in his devotion is anticipating 
 the faithfulness of the greater 
 Shepherd. How entrancing is 
 the lesson to this seeking sol- 
 dier from beyond the Adriatic ! 
 Then does the Christ add 
 another word more surprising 
 than the rest. To men who are 
 his sheep he makes a promise 
 that compasses the furthest 
 limit of the eternities. Of such 
 he says : ''Unto those who fol- 
 low^ me I w^ill give the Life of 
 the Ages. Beyond the tomb 
 they are to live on forever- 
 more.'' Nor to the Jews alone, 
 amid the maze of those Corin- 
 thian columns, does the com- 
 ing Shepherd speak. The 
 listening Roman soldier, 
 w^earing the armor of the 
 empire on the Tiber, comes 
 within the circle of his 
 promise. Into the face of 
 Quintus he looks and benignly 
 says : ''There are other sheep 
 not of the Jewish pasture, to 
 whom I shall give this unend- 
 ing life. I covet your great 
 empire as my own. O soldier 
 25 
 
of the Caesars, follow after 
 
 me ! 
 
 Back to tke camp on Scopus 
 tne soldier ^oes, moved to his 
 deepest soul. Impossible it 
 seems to longer worship the 
 Roman gods. When he has 
 described to Aulus the Feast 
 of Dedication, he repeats the 
 words he has heard in the 
 Temple cloister, and says m 
 deepest seriousness : 
 
 ^'Most unearthly is the Man 
 on whom I have looked to-day. 
 In his speech a divine patience, 
 kindness, and dignity com- 
 bine. As for the words he 
 spoke, I cannot tell their mov- 
 ing power. The sayings of our 
 noblest Romans are feeble in 
 the comparison. Never have I 
 heard another speak as he has 
 done about a future world. 
 Truly, an unequaled Man is 
 this new^ Teacher w^ho is 
 abroad in Judasa.' 
 
 Sleep is of little conse- 
 quence that night. Is the word 
 of the augur at Brundisium be- 
 ginning to be fulfilled? In his 
 tent Quintus is wondering 
 through the long hours if, 
 among his people on the Tiber, 
 the Shepherd shall not find 
 26 
 
some sheep to whom he will 
 give the unendingf life. 
 
 Ill 
 
 CHRIST HIMSELF THE 
 WITNESS TO IM- 
 MORTALITY 
 
 *'He appeared to them alive again 
 tne tnird day, as tKe divine proph- 
 ets had foretold." — Josephus. 
 
 ^ /t 
 
 jp^ O W often have men 
 
 <. i missed the sight of 
 
 great historic occurrences, m 
 their attention to the routine 
 of life ! So it was that Qumtus 
 did not witness the tragic 
 events of that Passover w^eek 
 on w^hich human destiny w^as 
 to turn. To Tyre on the Great 
 Sea he had gone, to arrange 
 for the landing of a new quota 
 of troops from Brundisium. 
 The commander at Scopus had 
 chosen him for the responsible 
 mission, m token of his espe- 
 cial fitness. The compliment 
 was pleasing. But m his 
 absence he was ever thinking 
 of the promise made by the 
 Teacher m Solomon's Porch, 
 27 
 
that the sheep who loUowecl 
 him should have eternal life. 
 Astir was all Jerusalem, 
 when the knight returned to 
 Scopus. It was on the morning 
 after the Lord's resurrection. 
 That Roman centurion w^ho 
 had been at Calvary reviewed 
 for Quintus the fateful hap- 
 penings. With pomp remind- 
 ing of a Roman triumph the 
 Christ had entered David's 
 city; after four days Iscariot 
 had betrayed him with a kiss ; 
 for blasphemy Pilatus, the pro- 
 curator, had sentenced him to 
 the cross ; they had put on him 
 a scarlet robe m mockery; 
 they had hung him between 
 two robbers on the hill of 
 Golgotha ; a brutal soldier now^ 
 at Scopus had won by lot 
 his seamless robe, and w^as 
 jauntily displaying it as a 
 trophy; an uncanny darkness 
 had covered the Judasan sky; 
 the soldier Longmus had 
 pierced the sufferer's side; 
 they had buried the dead 
 Christ in the garden tomb of 
 the Arimathaean Joseph. Mon- 
 umental events were these — 
 all new to Quintus, but des- 
 tined to be written indelibly in 
 the calendars of Christendom. 
 28 
 
''More than tkis/' con- 
 tinues tlie centurion, an 
 amazingf rumor is now abroad 
 in tlie city tliat yesterday the 
 dead Christus awoke from his 
 sleep and has been five times 
 seen by his amazed disciples. 
 When I beheld him yield up 
 the gfhost, I hailed his death as 
 that of a devout man, but little 
 did I think that he was a God 
 and would return from the 
 tomb. The report says he has 
 now come back. On swift 
 w^ing the rumor has fiow^n 
 through Jerusalem and even 
 into Pilate's palace. '^ 
 
 Down from the heights of 
 Scopus the hurrying feet of 
 Qumtus carry him to Jeru- 
 salem. Doubts and w^onder- 
 ings and half-beliefs fill his 
 mind. What if by any shadow 
 of possibility the prediction of 
 the strange Teacher has been 
 fulfilled, that he should return 
 from the dead on the third 
 day? Finding his way to Jo- 
 seph's garden, Quintus stands 
 by an empty sepulcher. There 
 is a group of wondering vis- 
 itors near, and among them is 
 one w^hose inviting face leads 
 Quintus to accost him. Not 
 29 
 
fri^Ktened by the sword and 
 armor of tne Roman knight, 
 but assured by bis candid 
 look., tbe otber answers in tbe 
 Aramaic wbicb botb can speak : 
 
 ^Johannes is my name. Till 
 tbree years ago I was a fisher- 
 man, up on tbe waters of Gen- 
 nesaret. Since tben I bave 
 been a disciple of tbis Man 
 from Galilee. In bis company 
 I bave beard surprising words 
 and bave felt a heavenly in- 
 fluence. He w^as no ordinary 
 Teacher. He was indeed from 
 above.'' 
 
 Ts it true/' asks Qumtus m 
 breathless words, 'that your 
 Master has risen from the 
 grave? I bave been aw^ay in 
 Tyrus. Now^ m the Roman 
 camp on Scopus I have heard 
 that be has come forth from 
 the sepulcher. What means 
 such a marvelous report?' 
 
 '"Yes, it is all true," John 
 answers w^ith his face aglow; 
 "^'tbis IS the very sepulcher 
 where our Lord w^as laid. Your 
 O'wn sentries kept guard be- 
 fore tbe tomb securely sealed. 
 But on the morning of yester- 
 day there was a shaking of the 
 earth ; some angelic visitantr 
 rolled aw^ay the stone door o 
 30 
 
tKe grave; and our immortal 
 CKristus came forth agam. 
 
 ''Astounding/' Quintus m- 
 terrupts in a whirl of words; 
 ''but did he make any promise 
 of another life for men, before 
 he was put to death? 
 
 "He truly did/' replies the 
 disciple ; "when we had eaten 
 the Passover supper with him, 
 he spoke a word more marvel- 
 ous than any of your Roman 
 teachers has ever uttered. Into 
 the spirit world he said he was 
 departing, to make ready a 
 room in the Father's ample 
 house for those who were his 
 own; and on his return he 
 would take them to be with 
 himself. Ever since our sad- 
 hearted band have been com- 
 forting themselves with this 
 last promise in the upper 
 room. 
 
 "None of our Roman gods 
 has ever promised such a fu- 
 ture,' responds Quintus ; but 
 is this all? " 
 
 "No," answers the disciple; 
 "on his cross our Christus 
 spoke again about another ex- 
 perience for men. By his side 
 was Dysmas, the crucified 
 robber, grieving for his faults 
 and asking comfort. When 
 31 
 
the cross pain and thirst w^ere 
 over, our Lord replied, the 
 outlaw should walk with him 
 amon^ the bowers of the 
 beautiful Paradise beyond this 
 w^orld's horizon. It w^ a s 
 enough. In this consolation 
 the tortured Dysmas passed 
 on, with a smile of peace upon 
 his face/' 
 
 'Have you more wonders to 
 tell?' presses Qumtus, m his 
 eagerness, w^hile the story of 
 the cross begins to compel his 
 judgment and call for his 
 heart's surrender. 
 
 Then, the consummation ! 
 In ecstatic words John tells of 
 the one final and overmaster* 
 mg proof, m the thought of the 
 eleven disciples : 
 
 ''Greatest of all, w^e have 
 ourselves seen our Friend 
 again. Five times already has 
 he showed himself. First, 
 Mary of Magdala saw^ him 
 under the trees of the garden, 
 and spoke with him; then the 
 other women met him and fell 
 at his feet; next our fellow 
 disciple Petros saw^ him ; then 
 two of our band w^alked with 
 him to outlying Emmaus, and 
 knew^ him as he broke bread 
 at the journey's end ; and then 
 32 
 
last evening, he came to ten of 
 us in the Passover room and 
 spoke Ills peace on us. 
 
 ^'Perhaps you have all seen 
 a spectral form wnicn has no 
 real existence/' remonstrates 
 Quintus, while all the time he 
 is yielding himself to the com- 
 pelling story. 
 
 'It cannot he/' responds 
 the convincing John; 'there 
 have been too many witnesses 
 for that. We have seen the 
 very w^ound made by the spear 
 of Longfinus ; we have heard 
 his familiar voice ; we have re- 
 ceived his blessmgf. Our num- 
 ber IS our evidence ; it cannot 
 be possible that all of us have 
 been deceived. It is surely he, 
 O Roman soldier, unless the 
 senses of the women and of 
 ten honest men are far astray. 
 No other teacher of the East 
 has ever come back from the 
 sepulcher. Look and see for 
 yourself. Yonder is Joseph's 
 empty tomb. The Christus is 
 himself the evidence." 
 
 What can Quintus do, in the 
 face of such proof as this? He 
 returns to Scopus in wildest 
 tumult. Little does he say to 
 Aulus, his chosen friend. The 
 33 
 
company of Longinus or tke 
 centurion he does not seek. 
 The time has come — as it 
 comes to all — wKen he must 
 commune with himself, 4incl 
 make the decision confrontingf 
 every soul that has heard the 
 resurrection story. 
 
 IV 
 CICERO OR CHRIST? 
 
 "TKe name of Jesus can still re- 
 move distractions from tKe 
 minds of men.'' — Origen. 
 
 HALL men believe m a 
 future life because of 
 Christ s return from the gfrave? 
 Is his established resurrection 
 at Jerusalem the climacteric 
 proof for immortality? The 
 problem is inescapable. Every 
 man is himself a judge ; be- 
 fore every man the accu- 
 mulated evidence passes; for 
 every man it is doomsday 
 when he stands at the point of 
 decision. 
 
 In his sore perplexity Quin- 
 tus says to himself that night, 
 when he has returned from 
 34 
 
his interview with tke disciple 
 JoKn: ''My soul is like a 
 traveler who halts at the point 
 where two roads meet. Great 
 issues depend upon his choice. 
 But while he hesitates may 
 the immortals, who watch over 
 the destinies of men, ^uide 
 his feet aright.'' 
 
 Clearly defined are the 
 alternatives before the Roman 
 soldier. On thd one hand 
 are his ancestral beliefs, long 
 established and deeply 
 cherished by the nation. Nor 
 does any man quickly toss 
 aside the faith of his fathers. 
 If belief is waning in the 
 primitive mythologies, and if 
 the social life of the Empire is 
 moved by unrest and despair, 
 the problem is to find a greater 
 satisfaction. There have been 
 spoken many beautiful words 
 by the Roman scholars which 
 are sw^eet premonitions of im- 
 mortality. Does not Qumtus 
 remember that Cicero likens 
 to heaven a port prepared, 
 and prays that he may sail 
 thither with full-spread sails? 
 And if the gifted Cicero has 
 just gone tragically out of life, 
 let it be hoped that he has 
 reached the harbor. 
 35 
 
But on the other hand are 
 the challenging and captivat- 
 ing words of Christ. Had he 
 only spoken of the future life 
 as an enthusiastic Teacher, 
 and then had passed to the 
 perpetual slumber of the grave 
 like other philosophers of the 
 time, he would he remem- 
 bered long. But, when he had 
 spoken his words concerning 
 immortality, he had added, ''I 
 myself shall surely come back 
 again.' From the evidence 
 which Quintus has heard in 
 Jerusalem he has now fulfilled 
 his prediction. He has put to 
 scorn the fidelity of the Roman 
 sentinels at the tomb of Jo- 
 seph ; he has reversed the laws 
 of nature ; he has appeared 
 again, in unique proof that 
 there is to be a resurrection of 
 the dead. Wide is the differ- 
 ence between Cicero and the 
 Christ. The one has spoken a 
 mere opinion, so beautiful m 
 its phrase that it shall pass 
 down into the future literature 
 of men. The other has spoken 
 a revelation, and then has re- 
 turned to prove that revela- 
 tion true. Which shall it be 
 — Cicero or the Christ? 
 
 But to accept the Jewish 
 36 
 
Teacher means earthly loss. 
 As lie keeps gfuard with him- 
 self through the night hours 
 Qumtus IS wondering if he 
 shall incur the hostility of his 
 father Marcus and shall be 
 forced to sacrifice his estates 
 on the Palatine. He fancies 
 also the grief of the fair Lu- 
 cretia >vhen she learns that he 
 has chosen an alien faith. And 
 he remembers, further, that in 
 the choice of the Christus he 
 is joining a company on w^hom 
 the Eastern world is already 
 casting its withering contempt. 
 Cicero or the Christus. Which 
 shall it be? 
 
 There are no struggles like 
 the night wrestlings of the 
 soul in matters of religion. 
 What w^ords can measure the 
 divers arguments, the oppos- 
 ing considerations, the con- 
 flicting emotions that shape 
 human choice? Qumtus stands 
 at the point w^here soon — in 
 the progress of the new^ faith 
 — Saul from Tarsus, Clement 
 of Rome, and so many more of 
 the great spirits of that first 
 era are to stand. The w^rest- 
 Imgs of the night! Then foul 
 demons are abroad ; and then 
 37 
 
God s good angels are descen- 
 ding tlie ladders of the sky. 
 
 Soon comes a great mo- 
 ment. Willie tne soul of Quin- 
 tus IS m wild commotion, 
 there falls upon nim a mighty 
 force which is not of earth. 
 Coming he knows not Avhence, 
 but not invading the depart- 
 ment of his will, it impels him 
 to the Christ. Transformed is 
 this Roman knight, who has 
 been taught the doctrines of 
 the Latin cult, and w^hose na- 
 tion can only feel disdain for 
 a Galilasan who proposes to 
 revolutionize the ages. The 
 w^ords of the augur at Brun- 
 disium ^re having in truth a 
 strange fulfillment. 
 
 As if the Man were present 
 on whom he had looked in the 
 Porch of Solomon, Quintus 
 speaks his choice for the long 
 eternities : 
 
 ^'Happen w^hat may, I take 
 thee, O Christus, for my Lord 
 and Master. I sacrifice my 
 Roman knighthood for thee, if 
 it shall be required. I choose 
 thee, because thou hast risen 
 from the dead and hast proven 
 that there is another life for 
 men/* 
 
 38 
 
Not Cicero, but Cbrist I Tke 
 Roman knigkt has made the 
 great decision. 
 
 THE VISION OF THE 
 RISEN CHRIST 
 
 'After tkat, he was seen of atove 
 
 five hundred brethren at 
 
 once/' — Paul. 
 
 OJM C E for himself was 
 Quintus to see the Lord, 
 before his departure heaven- 
 ward. When midnight hours 
 afterw^ard came to him in 
 Italy, the memory of that 
 vision w^as golden. When, 
 among the temples of the gods 
 m pagan Rome, men chal- 
 lenged his helief, his sufficient 
 answer was : *''With mine own 
 eyes I have seen the risen 
 Teacher who has revealed im- 
 mortality to men.' So did the 
 first disciples of the faith who 
 bore its weightiest burdens, 
 enjoy its highest privilege. 
 
 It was the disciple John who 
 told Quintus of the oppor- 
 tunity to see the risen Lord. In 
 an hour of fellowship at Jeru- 
 39 
 
salem — wlien the knigflit kad 
 confessed his new allegiance 
 — John spoke of the Master's 
 wish. The disciples who were 
 m the city and its environs 
 were to gather m Galilee with 
 those from that upper district. 
 Once more would their Lord 
 show himself to all who be- 
 lieved on him, and w^ould 
 speak with them. Nor did 
 Quintus ever cease to rejoice 
 that he w^as reckoned worthy 
 to look that day on the Con- 
 queror of death. 
 
 With ligfht feet the Jerusa- 
 lem company, some six score 
 in number, made the journey 
 north to Galilee. One subject 
 only was on their lips, as they 
 followed the road through 
 Samaria to Kurn Hattm, near 
 the Sea of Tiberias. Here the 
 Lord at the openingf of his mis- 
 sion had spoken his nine 
 blessings to needy mortals ; 
 most fitting it now^ was that on 
 this memorable hillside he 
 should utter his farewell to 
 those who had come to believe 
 on him. Thus would the circle 
 of his teachings end where it 
 had begun. Bright was the 
 picture. The glint of the sun- 
 light on the Galilaean sea so 
 40 
 
near at hand, witli the un- 
 counted flowers of the spring- 
 time that covered the lower 
 plains, lent a charm to the 
 scene that Quintus remem- 
 bered always. 
 
 At the outset the Roman 
 convert is impressed with the 
 goodly number of those first 
 disciples. They are not tw^elve 
 or SIX score, but many more. 
 They greet each other with the 
 salutation, ' Peace be to you, 
 and then they rapturously add, 
 *'To-day we shall see our 
 Lord/' In that intimacy which 
 should always mark the fol- 
 lowers of Christ, they give 
 Quintus their welcome ; and 
 at once he feels himself among 
 a congenial brotherhood. 
 
 One is by name Nicodemus, 
 a member of the Great San- 
 hedrin. Another is one Barti- 
 maeus, from southern Jericho, 
 whose finger tips have been 
 his eyes, till the Lord has 
 healed his blindness. A third 
 has been a demoniac among 
 the hills of the Gergesenes, 
 and has been a w^andering and 
 truculent challenge to his 
 times. A woman is there from 
 Jacob's well, with Salome and 
 41 
 
Susanna and the virgin 
 mother herself. They are from 
 southern Bethlehem ; they 
 have come from the w^ild hills 
 of Perasa, beyond the Jordan ; 
 many are from Galilee, where 
 Christ has found so many de- 
 voted followers. All these, as 
 w^ell as the immortal eleven 
 who have composed the inner 
 circle of the Master's asso- 
 ciates. 
 
 Two other peculiar disciples 
 does Quintus see, hoth of 
 whom have been raised from 
 the dead. Lazarus has come, 
 w^ho has so often w^elcomed 
 the Lord to his home m Beth- 
 any; and with him are the 
 sisters, of whom one has 
 heard the Teacher say, 'Who- 
 soever liveth and believeth in 
 me shall never die.' The other 
 IS a young vineyard keeper 
 from the neighboring village 
 of Nain, whom Christ has re- 
 stored. His w^ord to Quintus 
 IS : 
 
 'Xast year I sickened with a 
 fever and passed through the 
 door of death. They were car- 
 rying me out for burial, and 
 my widowed mother was 
 w^eeping as one weeps who has 
 lost her only son. The Master 
 42 
 
Iialted tte mourners, and 
 called me back to eartn. I nave 
 never told of tbe wonders 
 wliicli I saw m tne spirit world ; 
 it would not he lawful. But I 
 have been m the great spaces 
 teyond the stars, and know 
 that the tomb is only a restingf 
 place for a little sleep/' 
 
 ^'How many disciples are 
 there here? ' Qumtus asks of 
 the gfood John. To which ques- 
 tion the other answ^ers : 
 
 "'Over a half thousand. 
 It has been our Master's 
 wish that every disciple of his 
 througfhout the land should 
 come to this meeting place. 
 Unto all he would show him- 
 self once more, before he re- 
 turns to the upper life. So they 
 shall have a glad memory of 
 his face, and shall be strength- 
 ened in their coming tribula- 
 tions by the hope of immor- 
 
 ity. 
 
 Then suddenly — the risen 
 Lord has come ! The marvel of 
 it ! The splendor of it ! While 
 the five hundred are talking 
 together, the air grows lumin- 
 ous w^ith his presence. Out of 
 the invisible he appears. As 
 suddenly he comes as Aurora 
 43 
 
m ker chariot drives up the 
 eastern sky and brings in the 
 shining day. When the com- 
 pany have lallen on their faces 
 and have adored their Master, 
 m the hush that follows he 
 gives them a great commis- 
 sion: 
 
 You are to go forth/' he 
 says, **and herald my gospel 
 to the world. Let there be no 
 laggards in your company. It 
 IS a lifelong charge. There is a 
 task for Petrus and Johannes, 
 for Philippus and Mattheus, 
 and for all. You are to look for 
 disciples everywhere. You are 
 to proclaim the message of re- 
 pentance. You are to give 
 them the waters of baptism, in 
 the name of the God triune. 
 You are to declare to sad- 
 hearted men the promise of 
 eternal life, until I shall come 
 again to take men to myself. ' 
 That honorable commis- 
 sion ! It w^as in coming days to 
 stir the souls of apostles and 
 quicken the feet of missioners 
 and fire w^ith zeal earth's com- 
 ing reformers . Nor does Qum- 
 tus forget that he too has his 
 charge. In the city on the 
 Tiber is to be his task. To his 
 home circle, to priests in the 
 44 
 
temples of the ^ods, and even 
 to the royal Tiberius he is to 
 herald the gospel of the resur- 
 rection. His vision of the 
 risen Lord is the measure of 
 his opportunity. 
 
 Then the Master looks into 
 his very face, and remembers 
 him as the Roman knight he 
 had seen in the Porch of Sol- 
 omon. The half thousand 
 disciples on Kurn Hattin pros- 
 trate themselves to the earth ; 
 and in their acclaim the 
 soldier joins his voice, *'Rab- 
 boni ! Rahboni ! Our great 
 Master!' Then departs the 
 Christ, and back to their 
 homes they go, evermore to 
 comfort themselves with the 
 vision of their risen Lord. 
 
 Soon afterward their Rab- 
 boni goes from earth. Out be- 
 yond the hill of Olivet he 
 w^alks one day w^ith his eleven. 
 In their last words together he 
 reminds them again that they 
 are to be his heralds to the 
 eastern world. A cloud gathers 
 above their heads, like some 
 halting chariot, and he is gone 
 forever from human sight. Yet 
 only m the distance it seems a 
 cloud. For John afterw^ard 
 45 
 
says to Qumtus tliat it was in 
 reality a pnalanx of ten thou- 
 sand angels, robed in "wliite- 
 ness and sent to convoy the 
 Son of God to glory everlast- 
 ing. 
 
 With Quintus that visit to 
 Kurn Hattin shaped all his 
 future. His Master s counte- 
 nance had seemed to him more 
 wonderful than any face which 
 the gifted Phidias had ever 
 carved in stone. But never in 
 after days could he worthily 
 tell to Lucretia the vision he 
 had seen. Only in one poor 
 sentence could he sum it up : 
 I have seen for myself the 
 risen and ascending Lord.'* 
 
 VI 
 
 CHRIST'S WITNESSES AT 
 ROME 
 
 ''A great multitude.*' — Tacitus. 
 
 -'■^ ^ 
 
 g^g\ I ' ITH jubilation Quintus 
 UwA» sees again the shores 
 of Italy rise over the Adriatic, 
 and finds himself once more in 
 his beloved Rome. The center 
 of magnificence and power it 
 46 
 
seems. After clamorous public 
 greetings in tlie Forum, tliere 
 comes another welcome wnicn 
 happens only in a returnmgf 
 soldier's life. In tke palace of 
 Marcus the kindred of Quin- 
 tus are gathered, and Lucretia 
 also is m the circle, to hear his 
 great adventure. 
 
 ''How wonderful it seems,'' 
 the knight begins ; *'so many 
 times have your faces come to 
 me m my dreams, but now^ I 
 am fully awake and see them 
 once again. Hail to you all ! 
 When I w^as sailing aw^ay from 
 Brundisium, the augur fore- 
 told for me an unusual expe- 
 rience. In the Jewish life be- 
 yond the Sea I have learned 
 much, if that w^ere the fulfill- 
 ment. But, most of all, I have 
 come back w^ith a new^ reli- 
 gious faith. In Judaea, as you 
 must have heard, a certain 
 Galilaean has called himself 
 the Son of the one true God. 
 He has spoken of a future life 
 for men ; and he has now^ risen 
 from the grave, after his 
 torture on a cross, to prove his 
 doctrine true. I now believe in 
 him, as the interpreter of the 
 future life. Forevermore he is 
 my High Priest, and not the 
 47 
 
^reat pontifex m the temple of 
 your Jupiter. 
 
 Brave words tliey are. 
 There in the great hall of 
 Marcus, with the sunlight 
 shining on the gorgeous 
 palaces of the Caesars, the 
 Temple of Apollo, and all else 
 w^hich crowns the Palatine, 
 the notle Qumtus confesses 
 his new^ belief. Come what 
 w^ill the consequences ! 
 
 Then, while they hear m 
 amazement, he further says : 
 
 ""'Most inviting is this new 
 creed. Our w^ise Roman schol- 
 ars, as well as those in Greece, 
 have only teen guessers about 
 the future life. But the Chris- 
 tus speaks as one who has 
 come from the heavens. Those 
 w^ho keep his commandments 
 are to dwell w^ith him forever- 
 more in eternal joy. Every- 
 where through Judaea men are 
 becoming his followers, and 
 the wide world is to believe on 
 him. Perhaps you also, my 
 , cherished ones, will come to 
 accept his teaching of the 
 future life.'' 
 
 So Quintus speaks, with 
 
 his vibrant voice and with a 
 
 strange light on his face. 
 
 Wonderingly they hear the 
 
 48 
 
tidings tkat lie brings — tlie re- 
 cital of the greatest liappeningf 
 that can ever befall a man. 
 Not deriding their valiant sol- 
 dier, and not withholding their 
 wealth of love from one who 
 has come safely back to them, 
 they watch the changes m his 
 life. 
 
 ''I do not care, he says, 
 *'to loiter in the baths of 
 Agrippa and to hear from the 
 idlers there the gossip of the 
 hour. The gladiatorial strug- 
 gles in the Circus Maximus 
 and the comedies in the 
 theaters have lost for me their 
 relish. For the civic rew^ards 
 w^hich Tiberius gives his fa- 
 vored ones I have no w^ish. 
 Senatorships and proconsul- 
 ships are like the dust in the 
 apothecaries' scales. I have 
 seen the risen Lord !'' 
 
 Influential is such a life on 
 the home group of Quintus. 
 With his pride of birth and his 
 great properties, Marcus be- 
 comes a believer. A conver- 
 sion it IS which is the surprise 
 of Rome. The rare Lucretia, 
 as well, receives the truth. At 
 times, before she has called 
 herself a disciple, Quintus 
 escorts her to the worship of 
 49 
 
the Roman Christians. Their 
 captivating speech, their holy 
 love for one another, their rap- 
 turous faces move her deepest 
 heart. Till, one day, when 
 Qumtus has been tellingf her 
 of the womanhood in Judasa 
 which the Christ has en- 
 nobled, she replies : 
 
 'T believe it all, O Quintus. 
 Of late into my heart an un- 
 told peace has come. All things 
 are changed for me. The sun- 
 light is on the hills !' It is her 
 open confession. Lucretia is 
 thenceforth enrolled among 
 the Roman saints of w^hom the 
 world was not worthy, and 
 who looked for the life to come. 
 
 In the fellowship of the Ro- 
 man church — already founded 
 and rapidly enlarging — Quin- 
 tus finds his pleasure. A few 
 are Jews from the ghetto be- 
 yond the Tiber, till the perse- 
 cution of Claudius drives them 
 forth. More are of the varied 
 nationalities met in that com- 
 mercial and luxurious center. 
 Most are of plebeian blood. 
 There are smiths and mechan- 
 ics; there are stone cutters, 
 workers in mosaics, and dec- 
 orators. There are slaves from 
 50 
 
tlie very palace of Tiberius. 
 Ttere is Amon from Egfypt, 
 wko sells his jewelry aoAvn in 
 tLe Nova Via. Tkere is Pole- 
 mon, the Grecian shopkeeper, 
 m the Clivus Victoriae. There 
 is Onesimus, the servant of 
 Philemon, from C o 1 o s s ae. 
 There are Amplias ana Epae- 
 netus and Stachys, the partic- 
 ular friends of the Gentile 
 apostle. There IS, as well, Pom- 
 ponia Graecma, that woman of 
 no tie tlood, who accepts the 
 Christ. An ever«increasing 
 company it is. 
 
 In their assemblies, on the 
 nrst day of the w^eek, Qumtus 
 has his influential place. He 
 listens to the reading of the 
 older Scriptures ; he cele- 
 orates with the gathered com- 
 pany the eucharistic suppers 
 and agfapae ; he keeps with 
 them the Easter celebration, 
 m memory of Him who shall 
 give them eternal life. In em- 
 blem of their faith the sign of 
 the fish IS on their evening 
 lamps. Theirs is a sterling 
 citizenship. The w^anton me- 
 tropolis of the Caesars is 
 blessed immeasurably by the 
 company of these who follow 
 the risen Lord. 
 51 
 
It is after the midcentury 
 that the great Paulus, having 
 met with shipwreck on Melita, 
 draw^s near to Rome. Quintus 
 leads the company that goes 
 out south w^ard forty miles, to 
 welcome the Christian trav- 
 eler. At Appii Forum, that 
 common tow^n w^ith its barge- 
 men and its tavern keepers, 
 they give the kiss of welcome 
 io a little bent and gray- 
 haired Jew, who shall go down 
 into history as Christ's most 
 illustrious apostle. The faith- 
 ful Luke IS his companion. 
 Along the famous highw^ay of 
 the Via Appia, where emperors 
 and warriors, scholars and 
 Oriental tradesmen have 
 w^alked, Quintus escorts their 
 guest. Past the tombs of the 
 Roman great, by uncounted 
 statues, past suburban villas 
 they go, until, through the 
 Porta Appia, the holy prisoner, 
 chained to a Roman guard, 
 finds himself in the city of the 
 Cassars. 
 
 One rare privilege the Ro- 
 man knight then enjoys. In 
 his hired house, near the 
 Pretorian camp, Paul speaks 
 without interruption his words 
 of grace. The doctrines he had 
 52 
 
tefore written to the Roman 
 churck lie now explains ; tne 
 wish he had made to see them 
 face to face now expresses it- 
 self m words of love. The flood 
 tides of his eloquence move 
 resistlessly on^ as he inter- 
 prets the new faith and speaks 
 of Him vs^ho IS to ^ive them 
 eternal life. Quintus is en- 
 riched by his frequent associa- 
 tion with the peerless soul. 
 Nor did he have a prouder 
 thing to say, m the days to 
 come, than to declare, 1 
 heard great Paulus tell of the 
 life immortal. 
 
 But how fares our knight 
 w^ h e n persecution comes? 
 Through the years he has 
 been bravely declaring the 
 Christian doctrine of the 
 eternal life to priests in the 
 temples, to Roman nobles, to 
 all most hostile . But his wealth 
 and social standing, as w^ell as 
 the emperor's favor, now^ in- 
 sure his safety. His father 
 Marcus has long since passed 
 on, in hope of the heavenly 
 life. Having wedded the 
 graceful Lucretia, when an 
 apostle was m Rome to speak 
 their nuptials, he has her ef- 
 53 
 
hcient counsel m tlie testingf 
 times. 
 
 *Xook! look! Lucretia,*' he 
 cries, one evening; ''througfk 
 the lower city the flames 
 are running like unbridled 
 horses. There is danger 
 that all Rome may go to 
 ashes.'* 
 
 For nine long days they 
 watch the sweep of the lurid 
 flames. The light shines out 
 like a signal torch, to mark an 
 emperor's folly. Then the un- 
 deserved charge that they 
 have lit the flames brings on 
 the martyrdom of the Roman 
 Christians. Sometimes Quin- 
 tus and Lucretia are able to 
 soften the trials of the suf- 
 ferers, by permission of the 
 capricious Nero. To old Chilo, 
 the Grecian, before he meets 
 his doom, they unfold the 
 promise of eternal rew^ard in 
 the Father's house. The hope 
 of immortality they carry to 
 those w^ho go to the lions, at 
 the emperor's w^himsical com- 
 mand. And the glorious com- 
 pany of martyrs passes singing 
 to the skies, because of their 
 consoling words. 
 
 Dow^n into the dungeon of 
 the Mamertine they are per- 
 54 
 
mitted once to gfo, to visit 
 Paulus. But ne needs not tneir 
 consolation. Ratner he is the 
 comforter. With the poise of a 
 conqueror he bids them not to 
 mourn for him ; he is gfoing to 
 the Lord m the unending hfe. 
 Over their bowed heads he 
 stretches his aged hands, in 
 apostolic benediction. Soon 
 ends his imprisonment. At 
 Tre Fontane, m a few days 
 more, his weary body rests; 
 but his immortal spirit mounts 
 beyond the stars. 
 
 At last the Christian knight 
 comes to the crossing. The 
 prediction of the augur at 
 Brundisium has been strik- 
 ingly fulfilled. Matured in all 
 the graces, he is like the 
 ripened Chian clusters that 
 await the vintager m the 
 autumn days. The friends of 
 Qumtus have gone before ; as 
 the old century wanes, the old 
 man is to follow them. 
 
 'My time has come to go,' 
 he says one day ; the portals 
 of eternal life and joy I see 
 swinging open wide. I shall 
 pass through the gates, be- 
 cause my ascended Lord has 
 gone m before me to prepare 
 55 
 
 U- 
 
my dwelling place. Witk Lim 
 as my Teacher I believe in 
 the life immortal/' 
 
 In tlie Roman catacombs, 
 those most remarkable testi- 
 monies to the eternal life, bis 
 resting place may be found. 
 Tbe sign of tbe fisb is on bis 
 stone. Its time-eaten inscrip- 
 tion IS still legible, among tbe 
 many \vbicb tell of tbe early 
 Christian expectation and of 
 all future Christian hope : 
 
 'HERE RESTS THE DUST OF 
 QUINTUS, OF NOBLE BLOOD : 
 IN THE FAITH OF THE 
 ASCENDED LORD HE HAS 
 ENTERED UPON THE ETER- 
 NAL LIFE.'' 
 
 56 
 
 3477-176 
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