one of our
poets, the admirable Lucian, remarks that their doctrine was brought to
Rome by a little hook-nosed Jew, named Paulus, who was beheaded by the
divine Nero over yonder near the Ostian gate, beside the pyramid of
Cestius, which you may see amongst the cypresses. They have many strange
usages. Their funeral customs, especially, differ very widely from the
Greek or Roman ones. They bury the body, with many mysterious rites, in
vaults or chambers underground, instead of burning it on a funeral pyre.
They are rank atheists, refusing to worship the gods, or even to throw
so much as a grain of incense on their altar, or place a garland of
flowers before their shrines, or even have their images in their
houses. They are a morose, sullen, and dangerous people, and are said to
hold hideous orgies at their secret assemblies underground, where they
banquet on the body of a newly-slain child.[2] See yonder," he
continued, pointing to a low-browed arch almost concealed by trees in a
neighbouring garden, "is the entrance to one of their secret crypts,
where they gather to celebrate their abominable rites, surrounded by the
bones and ashes of the dead. A vile and craven set of wretches; they are
not fit to live."

"They are not all cravens; to that I can bear witness," interrupted
Sertorius. "I knew a fellow in my own company--Lannus was his name--who,
his comrades said, was a Christian. He was the bravest and steadiest
fellow in the legion;--saved my life once in Libya;--rushed between me
and a lion, which sprang from a thicket as I stopped to let my horse
drink at a stream--as it might be the Anio, there. The lion's fangs met
in his arm, but he never winced. He may believe what he pleases for me.
I like not this blood-hound business of hunting down honest men because
they worship gods of their own. But the Emperor's edict is written, as
you may say, with the point of a dagger--'The Christian religion must
everywhere be destroyed.'"

"And quite right, too, your Excellency," said the soft-smiling Greek.
"They are seditious conspirators, the enemies of C[ae]sar and of Rome."

"A Roman soldier does not need to learn of thee, hungry Greekling,"[3]
exclaimed the centurion, haughtily, "what is his duty to his country!"

"True, most noble sir," faltered the discomfited secretary, yet with a
vindictive glance from his treacherous eyes. "Your Excellency is always
right."

For a time they rode on in silence, the secretary fallin