Part 19 (1/2)

”Of his wishes there can be no doubt. I will respect them, and deny myself the honor of performing the funereal rites. Take them, Honorius.

But I will, nevertheless, a.s.sist at your services. Will you permit the soldier, whom you only know as your enemy, to enter your retreat and to witness your acts?”

”You shall be welcome, n.o.ble Lucullus, even as Marcellus was welcome before you, and perhaps you will receive among us the same blessing that was granted to him.”

”Do not hope for anything like that,” said Lucullus. ”I am far different from Marcellus in taste and feeling. I might learn to feel kindly toward you, or even to admire you, but never to join you.”

”Come with us, then, whatever you are, and a.s.sist at the funeral services of your friend. A messenger will come for you to-morrow.”

Lucullus signified his a.s.sent, and after handing over the precious urn to the care of Honorius, he went sadly to his own home.

On the following day he went with the messenger to the Catacombs. There he saw the Christian community, and beheld the place of their abode. But from the previous accounts of his friend he had gained a clear idea of their life, their sufferings, and their afflictions.

Again the mournful wail arose in the dim vaults and echoed along the arched pa.s.sage ways, that wail that spoke of a new brother committed to the grave; but the grief that spoke of mortal sorrow was succeeded by a loftier strain that expressed the faith of the aspiring soul, and a hope full of immortality.

Honorius took the precious scroll, the word of life, whose promises were so powerful to sustain amid the heaviest burden of grief, and in solemn tones read that chapter in the first epistle to the Corinthians which in every age and in every clime has been so dear to the heart that looked beyond the realms of time to seek for refuge in the prospect of the resurrection.

Then he raised his head and in fervent tones offered up a prayer to the Holy One of heaven, through Christ the divine mediator, by whom death and the grave had been conquered and immortal life secured.

The pale sad face of Lucullus was conspicuous among the mourners. If he was not a Christian he could still admire such glorious doctrines and listen with pleasure to such exalted hopes. It was he who placed the loved ashes within their final resting-place; he, whose eyes took the last look at the dear remains; and he whose hands lifted to its place the slab whereon the name and the epitaph of Marcellus was engraven.

Lucullus went to his home, but he was a changed man. The gayety of his nature seemed to have been driven out by the severe afflictions that he had endured. He had rightly said that he would not become a Christian.

The death of his friend had filled him with sadness, but there was no sorrow for sin, no repentance, no desire for a knowledge of G.o.d. He had lost the power of taking pleasure in the world, but had gained no other source of happiness.

Yet the memory of his friend produced one effect on him. He felt a sympathy for the poor and oppressed people with whom Marcellus had a.s.sociated. He admired their constancy and pitied their unmerited sufferings. He saw that all the virtue and goodness left in Rome were in the possession of these poor outcasts.