E

VER since Diocletian had proclaimed himself lord of life and death, an audience with him was a great risk; it might cost a person's life. He was the supreme master, from whose decree there was no appeal. His throne was continually surrounded by a guard of pretorians and lictors armed with their fasces and axes and watching for a sign from their master to put them to immediate use. Like his predecessors, Diocletian also was a monomaniac on the subject of power; he deemed himself a god and exacted divine honors and worship from the slavish creatures surrounding his throne. Since the martyrdom, some time before, of St. Vitus and other confessors of Christ, a blind fury, suggestive of demoniac possession, had come over him, and it is historically certain that his own son was actually possessed by the devil. Conscience upbraided the tyrant, and demoniac visions disturbed his sleep. The victims appeared to him in his dreams, and his frenzy sometimes drove him to order the slaughter of his most devoted friends.

To be admitted to the presence of such a tyrant was certainly reason enough for trembling with fear, and Calistos was filled with apprehension at the thought of the audience. But Diocletian, when he admitted him, together with his wife and child, to the imperial presence, proved to be in exceptionally good humor. To impress the strangers with his greatness and supreme majesty he received them in the throne-hall costumed as Jupiter, and bearing the attributes of that so-called diety. He was surrounded by the dignitaries of the empire and by a company of lictors.

A suppressed murmur of admiration ran through the hall as Calistos, Eutropia and Philomena entered. It was occasioned by the appearance of the girl, who, just budding forth from childhood into womanhood, was of dazzling beauty. She glided into the hall like a figure from a higher sphere. Clad in a white garment of spotless purity, she impressed the assembly with her innocence and nobility of soul as well as with her charms of person. The emperor, too, was favorably affected, and with

(Matt. iv.: 9.)

friendly mien invited the strangers to approach and state the cause of their coming.

Calistos responded, at first timidly, then more boldly, and the emperor pleasantly listened to his recital. But when, in the course of his statement, he admitted that he was a Christian, an ominous change came over Diocletian's features. However, he suffered him to conclude his speech, meanwhile regarding Philomena intently. The virgin could not but feel an indefinable dread at being thus stared at, and a glow of color suffused her face, whilst her eyes modestly sought the floor. After Calistos had finished, Diocletian cast a knowing glance at his courtiers, and said:

"Hark, Calistos! It was quite superfluous to be so profuse in thy statement. The proposition embodied in it is as follows: Thou fearest that our coemperor Galerius, whom we entrusted with the government of the Eastern empire, is about to take away the city of Nicopolis and to transfer from thy full coffers the wealth which he so sorely needs. This fear is well grounded, and I cannot but admire my son-in-law's cunning. My only wonder is that thou wast so long in discovering this fact. There is not the slightest reason for accusing us of injustice in this proceeding. Are we not the lord of the Roman empire, and consequently of the world? Thy possessions, in comparison with ours, are like a grain of sand compared with the ocean; what can the sand-grain do against the power of the waves? Its absorption is a law of nature; the right of power. True, thou art at liberty to resist; thou mayest array thy army against ours; but what is a mouse against a lion? And as thou and thy army are but like unto a mouse when compared with Galerius and his hosts, it is but just that he crush thee." And, turning to his courtiers, he inquired: "Have I stated the case clearly?"

"Clearly and logically, imperial lord!" was the unanimous response. "Thy speech proclaims thee a hero, a god!"

Calistos, trembling with indignation at such mean treatment, but conscious of his inability to retaliate, stood confused and in his heart invoked Divine assistance. Diocletian continued:

"This is one view of the case; but there is an aggravating circumstance; thou hast proclaimed thyself a Christian; thou art a follower of the Nazarene, art thou not?"

"I am a Christian!" Calistos boldly replied. "And thy wife is also a Christian?"

"I am!" Eutropia modestly confessed. "And thou, little one," the emperor addressed

Philomena, "art thou too inoculated with the poison? Dost thou also adore the Nazarene ?"

All eyes were intent on the maiden, who solemnly answered: "Yes, I adore Him whom thou callest the Nazarene. I was consecrated to Him at my birth, and shall belong to Him forever, for He is my God and Savior."

A murmur swept through the hall. Diocletian's features darkened as he said: "You all have heard it; they are Christians, adherents of that damnable sect against which we have published our edicts, and which we are determined to annihilate. Hence, Galerius is not only invested with the power, but it is his duty to trample in the dust this lot of conspirators. This being the case, Calistos, I cannot conceive how thou couldst dare to approach my throne for the purpose of invoking my aid against Galerius. Thou remindest me of the man who to escape the claws of the tiger took refuge in the jaws of the lion. Well done, forsooth! Ha! ha!! ha!!!" The courtiers dutifully joined in their master's mirth.

Calistos saw his impending fate and shuddered. But remembering the emperor's vanity, he resolved to appeal to it, and said:

"Thy simile, most gracious emperor, is very true, and I was well aware that I approached the lion's den when I resolved to appeal to thee. As thou wast pleased to compare thyself to the lion, permit me to remind thee that magnanimity is the foremost trait of that animal; every ready to engage in combat it disdains to attack a mouse. Thus it is also unworthy of thy prowess to send the legions who subdued the nations of the earth and carried the renown of thy name beyond the seas to conquer a city unable to resist thee. Let bandits do it; but do not stain the page of history which contains the glorious record of thy deeds with such a deed."

"Thou hast learned thy lesson well," jeeringly remarked Diocletian, "and I shall do as thou sayest; the lion disdains to swallow the mouse. Thou shalt proclaim our generosity to all thy people. I shall direct my son-in-law to spare thee and thine. I take thee under my protection, and during thy sojourn in Rome thou art my guest."

"Accept my sincerest thanks," replied Calistos, greatly relieved at the success of his little stratagem. He knelt at the emperor's feet. Diocletian bade him rise, and continued:

"To prove thy gratitude for the great favor bestowed on thee, we hope thou wilt grant us the wish we are about to express. Its fulfillment will moreever redound greatly to thy honor."

"Ask what thou wilt, most gracious lord; if it be in my power I shall grant thy request." "I take thee at thy word, Calistos, and ask thee for thy daughter's hand."

The

An ominous silence followed these words. courtiers looked dubiously at each other, and Calistos was so surprised that he was unable to speak. "What dost thou answer? I think an offer like that must render thee extremely happy," said Diocletian.

"Thou hast indeed amazed me by thy offer. It exceeds my most sanguine expectations. But pardon me when I dare to remark that thy imperial majesty is pleased to jest."

"To jest? By no means! Thy daughter pleases me, for never have I seen a beauty to compare with hers. I love her and shall not rest till she is mine." "How shall we ever be able to thank thee for such condescension, most gracious lord!"

"Do not speak of condescension. I love her— and that is sufficient. Am I not at liberty to choose wherever I wish? Am I not lord of the world? I choose thy daughter. She shall share my throne, and thou, instead of being a petty prince in a halfcivilized country, shalt rank among the first in my empire. This is my will; thus have I decreed, and so shall it be. The offer is acceptable, is it not?"

"If thou art really serious, my lord, we prostrate before thee and kiss thy hands most gratefully.' "That is superfluous. Thy consent is sufficient. Of course thy wife is of the same mind?"

"I agree with whatever my husband is pleased to say and to do. And, moreover, could a mother refuse so great an honor for her child?"

"Well said! All we have still to do is to hear what the maiden has to say. Philomena, thou hast heard my proposition; dost thou consent to become my wife?"

With palpitating heart, a deathly pallor overspreading her features, the maiden regarded her mother, who hastened to reassure her, saying: "Now, dear child, answer!"

In a low voice, but firmly, Philomena said: “Oh, mother, I cannot !"

Diocletian was impatient. "What answer am I to have?" he demanded.

"I beg thy pardon, most gracious lord," replied Calistos; "our child is unnerved at the thought of the great honor in store for her, and it will be necessary to give her time to recollect herself. Tomorrow she will glady consent."

The emperor was satisfied and dismissed them.

Da

O we wonder that a child of thirteen has the courage to refuse so tempting an offer as this made to Philomena? It is the result of the virtues instilled into her soul. From early youth she had conse crated herself to God, resolved to live for Him alone. Her parents had educated her for Heaven; yet they desired that she accept Diocletian's proposal, knowing but too well that by a refusal they would incur his displeasure with all its disastrous consequences.

"Remember, my child," her father addressed her, "what a splendid opportunity of doing good thou shalt have at the mighty monarch's side. Sharing his throne thou wilt be able to protect thy Christian brethren from persecution. Perhaps thou wilt even convince the emperor of the truth and convert him to Christianity. Then the bloody massacre of Christians will cease, the Church will flourish in peace and future genera. tions shall call thee blessed."

But Philomena remained firm. With a heavenly wisdom quite beyond her years she replied: "Dear father, thou allowest thyself to become the victim of an illusion which can never be realized. Diocletian is so deeply sunken in depravity that he is impenetrable to nobler emotions. Instead of elevating himself at my side to the sublime heights of Christian truth, he would seek to draw me with him into the abyss of corruption. Instead of saving him, I should be exposed to the danger of becoming his associate in crime, and the blood of the victims of his wrath would cry out against me, too. May the Lord preserve me from such a fate! Moreover,

(Matt. x.: 37-)

thou canst not sever the sacred bond which binds me to the Lord; well dost thou know that three years ago I vowed my virginity to Him on the happy day of my first communion."

"Thou wast then too young to know the import of thy vow, and it is therefore not binding.

"Far be it from me to take advantage of such an excuse! I knew well what I did when I followed the example of her whom we salute as the Mother of our Redeemer, and vowed my virginity to God. Did not she herself set the example at a much earlier age in the temple at Jerusalem? Oh, no! I shall never revoke my vow. I know but one Spouse, Jesus Christ, our Lord."

"But consider that the person who asks you in wedlock is Diocletian, the mignty Roman emperor, the lord of the world. He will place a crown upon thy brow and endow thee with untold wealth."

"Great indeed is Diocletian's power and grandeur; but who is he in comparison with the Eternal King to whom I am betrothed? I renounce Diocletian's crown and choose for my part the Savior's crown of thorns on earth and the imperishable crown of heaven promised to those who are faithful to Him. I despise a wealth which I needs must leave behind me one day, and seek the everlasting treasures of heaven."

"But what if Diocletian, roused to fury by thy refusal, turns his wrath against us? Remember that we are powerless in his hands; that our fate rests with him. Hast thou no consideration for us? Where is thy filial love?"

"It is better to lose our lives here below and to be reunited in heaven, than to try to avoid temporal death and thereby incur eternal punishment. Hence I beseech thee, father, by the blood of Christ, to refrain from seeking to alter my resolution of remaining faithful to my heavenly Spouse, Jesus Christ, even at the cost of my life."

A halo of heavenly light seemed to encircle the virgin as she spoke. Her words, no doubt, were entered in the book of life by the recording angel.

ESS firm in the faith than their daughter, Philomena's parents were too strongly wedded to the world to share her sublime sentiments. When placed in a position to choose between the highest glory on earth and an ignominious death, they preferred the former and hesitated not to influence their child to do the same. Especially her mother begged her with tears and blandishments to accept Diocletian's proposal. Her father, too, was disconsolate. "What does it profit us now," he exclaimed, "to have received a daughter from God, when He is about to take her away at the very moment when we might enjoy her possession?" His faith was shaken, and he used every art known to paternal affection to induce Philomena to give her consent. But to no avail.

At the very height of this perplexity, Diocletian summoned them to the palace. They went with heavy hearts. The emperor received them alone in a luxuriously furnished apartment. He was seated at a small table, which was loaded with costly ornaments, such as gold rings, bracelets-diadems with precious stones of immense value, and a variety of other trinkets apt to captivate a girl's heart. Like the tempter in the desert who said to our Savior: "All these will I give thee, if falling down thou wilt adore me." Diocletian offered his dazzling gifts to Philomena on the sole condition that she accept him in marriage. He used every blandishment to gain her consent, and was ably seconded by Calistos and his wife. But the maiden remained firm. She refused his gifts and resisted all endeavors to win her.

At length the emperor, seeing every effort fail, became furious. Violently pushing away the table so that its costly burden fell to the floor, he approached the trembling girl and roared: "What, thou stubborn damsel! darest to spurn an emperor's love? Thou preferrest a cruicified Jew to me, the lord of the world? I have offered thee my crown; thou hast refused it and shalt repent of thy obstinacy. I am wont to do my will, and if a woman finds favor in my eyes I take her. With thee I made an exception and begged for thy love. Thou hast refused me, and by the gods! thou shalt rue it."

He summoned two lictors, and pointing to Philomena, said: "Take her away and cast her into prison. She has dared to spurn me, the rival of the gods!"

ap

The lictors proceeded to execute the emperor's order. Philomena trembled when the men proached her. But Calistos stood guard over his child and cried: "Touch her not, or you are dead men!" Eutropia knelt before the emperor and implored him to have mercy on her. "Oh, do not separate us from our darling child," she cried; "or if thy decree is irrevocable let us die with her."

"Die?" laughed Diocletian; "who speaks of dying? Your daughter shall not die, at least not presently. I simply intend to give her time in prison. to reconsider her decision and to come to her senses. If the isolation will not accomplish it, I possess means to turn her from her love of the Nazarene. But on your account I shall order that no harm befall her. As soon as she is ready to accede to my wish, everything shall be forgotten, and from the prisoner's cell she shall ascend to the throne. But if she persists in her refusal, woe to her and ye!"

And turning to the lictors, he cried: "Why stand ye there idle? Do your duty!"

It was easier said than done, for Calistos, a man of powerful build, still guarded his child. One of the lictors ventured to lay hands on her, but scarcely had he done so, when a tremendous blow felled him to the floor. The father defended his child. The other lictor cautiously retreated. Diocletian was amused at the lictor's discomfiture and applauded Calistos for his prowess. The struggle, however, brought on a number of guardsmen, who overpowered the defender and led Philomena away. CHAPTER VII.

IN PRISON.

"Out of the depths I have cried to Thee, O Lord!" (Ps. cxxix.: 1.)

D

OORS of iron, heavy and strong, had closed on Philomena. She was in prison, for the first time in her life, separated from her parents and debarred from all intercourse with human beings. Alone with her sorrow, she keenly felt the peril of her situation. Nature, exhausted of its powers of endurance, finally gave way under the strain; grace, which had hitherto sustained her, now seemed to have been withdrawn from her. Weeping, she fell on her knees, buried her face in her hands and freely gave vent