VMM
seas
I have sworii upou tlio Altar of God, eternal hostility to every fona of Tyranny over tlio Wind of Man." Thomas Jefferson.
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY II. WEBB.
V I lime SV.
BLOOMSBUSG, COLUMBIA COOTTT, FA. SATUEDAY, JANUARY 2, 1S41.'
Nuuibcr 36.
OFFICE OF THE DEMOCRAT,
Opposite St. Paul's Ouuncir, MaIN-bt;
The COLUMBIA DEMOCRAT will be
yVW DOLLARS per annum, payable
half ienri i advance, or TVco Ma
Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year.
Xo subscription will be taken for a shorter
period than six months; nor any discon
tinuance permitted, until all arrearages
arc discharged.
JMVE11T (SEME NTS not exceeding
square-will be coiUpicuoiuly inserted at
One Dollar or tnejirsi rnrre .,
and Twenty-five cents for every subse
quent nscrtion. ICTA liberal discount
made to those, who advertise by the year.
LETTERS addressed on business, mint
be post paur.
ess
ffiES EHBMfl&3JlBtffSo
THE EARLY CHRISTIANS.
In the reign of Marcus Aurelius Antoni
us, Ihero lived in Rome a good old senator,
who had two daughters. Veroniea and
Berenice were noted, less for their beauty
and gentleness, than for the extraordinary
resemblance they boro to each other, and
for their mutual affection. These girls were
twins; their mother died during their infan
cy, and it was found, after her death, Ihat a
mother's eve only had been able to distin
guish tile children. Had thtir father, Fhv
vius TorqualUB, bestowed much of his time
and attention on them, he might havo ao
quired the oamo power of discrimination;
but the noble patrician's hours was divided
between the sonate-houso and the court; and
when ho camu homo at night, wcarjad, he.
was well cnouch pleased to play with his
two sweet little girls without farther trout
linir himself conccrniiiir them. And yet
" t u
he wai a lupd father; he entreated his wid
owed sister to taku her abode with him, that
tshe might lake caro of the children, he al
lolled for thoir use a ulagnifieient suite of
rooms; he purchased for them a numerous
train of slaves. Veronica and Berenice had
scarcely a wish ungratificd.
As they increased in years, the remarks
ble similarity ef their persons remained un
diminished, but thoir characters became es
sentiallv different, Berenice was pensive
gentle, it might be somewhat melancholy
studious, and fond of retirement; Veronica
was volatile, giddy, of quick and warm af
fections; yet did rhese points of difference
not lessen thoir fond affection.
They had completed their sixteenth year,
when, among othor presents brought by
ing Alee to loll her stories, and sing her
songs, as sho had been wont to do. Often
and often as she watched the quick and soft
step of her attendant, and compared her un
wearied assiduity and gentle activity with
the indoletieo and carelessness of Iter other
slaves, she wondeied what could be the
crimo of which so meek and unoffending a
crcaturo had been guilty. One night, sho
felt worse than usual, and having persuaded
her sister to retire for a while, she lay quite
still, meditating on the prist, and on the fu
ture, that fearful future, of which she knew
so little, and which she eo much dreaded.
Alee was kneeling by her couch, and be
lievingher mistress to be asleep, she prayed
in a soft voico to the God of the Christians
for her reebvory. Berenice listened in still
attention; she heard tit iter surprise, the
meditation of a being implored, of whose
very existence she was totally ignorant; she
sho saw Alee rise at last, with an expression
f resignation and holy hope in her meekly
raised eyes, which she had never witnessed
in the volar'ws of Jeve. She called the
mbling girl to her sido and bade her
their father on his return frem a visit to th
Eest, was a young femalo slave of extraor
dinarv intellicenco and merit, he 60on
became the favorito of Berenice, and th
noble young Roman would frequently re
cline for hours on her couch, while the Si&v
beside her. occupied at her embroidery
would tell her tales of her own family and
native land. She wept when sho ipoke o
her peaceful home and aged parents, an
Berenice felt as though she loved iho girl
the more for her fond rccret. She asked
for what causes her liberty had been forfei
ted, for she knew that Alee had not bee
lorn a slave, but on this point sho could not
obtain satisfaction. Berenice would not
pnretie ihe painful subject, but her sister
curiosity was not so easily suppressed.
She Questioned her father, and the reply of
flavins made both his daughters start with
horror.
' It was for crime,' he said, ' for crime of
n blacker naturo than you can conceive, for
crimo that merited Heath, but I pitied hor
youth; nay,' ho continued, ' bo not alarmed,
the cannot, will not injure you; she is gen
tic ml skilful in tho hoaling art, for this
reason I have her about you, and you are
Romans, and noble, Berenice ! you will
not descend to undue familiarity with a
slave.'
Berenice rememberod this injunction: sho
rr.ant lo obey it; but shortly after this con
versation she was attacked by a painful ill
ness, and, during the tedious hours of sleep
less nights she oould nol refrain from desir
quickly explain her sacred faith. Alee hes
itated; she knew the danger she would in
cur for both, and some remains of the fear
f man yet lingered about her heart; but she
conquered tho unworthy feelings, and dratvr
ng from tho folds of her robe a roll of parch
ment, she read aloud to her attentive audi
tress tho record of Hit? most surprising event
in the history of mankind;
Many months bad passed away. One
veiling the sisters were together in their
own apartment. Veronica stood beforo a
mirror, her veal of satin, herflowur-wreath-
d robe, her zouc of brilliants told that sho
was preparing for a festival. At.tho further
end of the room Berenice was seatod. Sho
was nrrnyod in a plain white dress, and her
long hair felt unbraided in its own rich lux
uriance ataui hor throat and shoulders; with
her hand she foundled a snow-wiiite dove
& ever ami anon her dark hair fell over the
genllo bird, and it nestled lovingly within
it; tlio other rested nn a parchment which
appeared to engross the maiden's deepest
attention
Come now, Berenice,' said her sister,
playfully fixing the wreath of roses prepar
ud for herself, on her sister's brow, lay a
side for onco your melancholy book, and
send your dove to his rest, and come down
with mo to tho banquet.' Berenice- looked
up and answered gfenlly,
Nol so, Veronica, not to nighi; it is the
anniversiaary of poor Alcc'c death; and did
she not die for love of me, watching and
waiting when all others slept ? Her imago
has been with me through the day; I can
not join the banquet with my heart full of
sad memories; leavo mo, sister;' and Here
nice took off and returned the wreath.
' Yel listen, one word mere; thou L now
ebt who, will be (hero this evening. My
father will frown and Lucius Emilius will
sigh when I go in alone. Lucius departs
to morrow for the battle; and shall ho go
without one benizon from hie affianced 1
No,' replied her sister, speaking low and
faltering; you, Veronica, will tell him that
I wail to see him here, beforo his dep.'.r
turo
Berenice ! ray sister, bethink you of
your father; remember his patrician preju
ccs; surely this step '
' Go dear sister,' answered Berenice
mild yet firmly; ' for tho love that you bear
me, do ine this errand. I would not any
other eye should mark tho weakness I fear
to betray at parting with one whom my fath
er has commanded me to love; tell my father
I am unwell, and it is true, my head and
heart botli ache -go dearest.' And Vero
nica, unconvinced, yet persuaded by ths
tears of her sister, which in truth were Uow
ing faHt, left her alone.
Berenice resumod her reading, but nol
for many minutes ! she arose and shut the
volurao saying ' Not thus, not thus, with
divided attention, and with wandering
thoughts, may I presume to read this holy
record ' Sho placed it within a 6mall gol
den casket; locked it carefully, and then
walked forlb Into' abalcony, on. which lb
window of tiib apartment opened. The
moon had jusl risen and shed soft light on
tho magnificent buildings of the eternal city;
he cool, thin air swept ever tho brow of
the maiden, and calmed her agitated thoughts.
Sho had a bitter trial beforo hor,forshe was
about to inflict a deep wound oh the heart
of one whom she loved with all tho inho
cent fervour of girl's first affection; and she
tiemblcdcs she pictured to herself his stir
priso and sorrow. Then Berenice looked
up at tho quiet of tho evening sky, and
thought of llictimo when earth's interests
would bo over for her, and could sho thus
look, and thus think, and still hesitate ?
Ah, no 1 When she heard the steps of Lu
cius drawing nigh, sho plucked a single
flower from a creeping plant, that oversha
dowed the balcony, and keeping it in her
hand as a token to recall iier belter resolu
tions, sho advanced to meet him.
'It was not fur this I sent for you hither,'
sho said in reply to his passionate express
ion of regret and love; ' you are a Roman
soldier Lucius, and I know it was neither
your wish nor your destiny, to be ever at a
ady'sside. Believe me, I have learned to
look on this parting as on a thing inevita
ble;' but even as she spoko her voice faltered.
Lucius leaned forward to console her, to
whinper of re-union, of life-long re-union:
Your father has promised, dearest,' he
said, 'that this campaign once over, the Mar-
cotnaihii onco defeated, I shall be rewarded
A my rstcrn, with the hand of my Berenice.'
It may bo so,' she anawerod Badly, 'if
you still wish it.
' If I still wish it 1 Berenice, of what are
you dreaming?'
am not dreaming, Lucius Emilius,
am speaking the words of sober reality.'
You think of mc as of the beloved child of
Flavius Toniuatus, the ,jci-h5ircn of his
wealth and honors; of ono whoso hand will
confer distillation. If. on your return from
Germany, you should find me despoiled of
all these advantager, an alien from my fath
er's house, it may be from his heart's corn
ed and forgotten by my friends, despised
by mankind '
You will still,' replied Lucius, 'be to mo
the samo Berenice, whom in her hour of
prosperity,! had vowed to lovo and to cher
ish; but what can be tho meaning of your
terrible words? why do you torture yourself
and me; by such utterly vain imagining?'
Berenice withdrew from the encircling
arms that supported hur, she leaned against
the slight column of the voranda, her voico
was softer than tho softest whisper, yet ev
ery word fell witSi terrible clearness on the
ear of her lover: 'Lucius Emelius I am a
Christian.'
Lucius went forth that night from the
chamber of his betrothed an altered man;
for the chill of disappointment had falcn on
his proudest and fondest hopes. He iiad
tried all his persuasive powers to induco tho
girl to forsai.o hor now opinions; he had
tried in vainjso now nought for him remain
ed to do but to fulfil tho engagement in
which his honor was concerned, and then
to reluru to lovo hei still, and to protect
her, if necessary, with his life ! He boro
with him two precious gifts, to console
him in absence, as far as any thing could
console him the goldon casket and the
carrier dove.
Berenice was again alono, not, as hereto
fore in tho solitude of her own luxurious
apartment; nol surrounded, as sho was wont
to bo, with her books, and musie and flow
ers; sho was alone in the solitude of a gloo
my prison chamber. A small apsrturo near
tho ceiling, guarded by iron bais, admitted
jusl lighl enough to show Ihe dismal cmp
tiuess of the place; no tapestried hangings
to hide the cold damp walls, ho warm car
pet to cover tho stone floor. It contained
only a low couch, and un thai tho maiden
was seated, sometimes raising her clasped
hands in the deep earnestness of prayer,
sometimes covering her red and swollen
eyes to hide, it might bo from herself, the
tearjs sh.0, could riot restrain. Presently u
low knock was heard at tho door, and her
father entored. Borcnico shuddered,- and
said. ' Nol this, oh, let me be spared this
worst grief! yet, nol the "sacrifice mus
be completed; give me only the strength to
bear it.' Then sho advanced and led Fla
vius Torquatus to her couch, and meekly
kneeling before him, prayed hirri, yet once
more to lay his hand upon her, and to bless
her.
Tho old man answered, 'It is not for this;
I come lo tell you that all my entreaties
have iieen in vain, tho orders of the cmpe
ror must not be disoboyed, and his ordeis
were, that all of your fanatical sect should
be exterminated. Wore Marcus here, tho
tears and prayers of his faithful old servant
might avail; but ho is beyond tho Danube;
to-moirow, a general execution!- Oh
Bernice I my child, my child! must I live lo
sec youi blood flow forth by tho hand of a
common executioner?'
'I come nut, as I enmo yesterday,' he
continued, after a long pause, ' with tears
and entreaties to move you; yesterday; I
To-
You
knell to implore you to save your fathers
heart from breaking, and all in vain,
day I come with harsher purpose.
asked mo but now to take you, as I did
when you wore a little child. Berenico, if
yoii do not abandon your infatuation, if you
persist in bringing eternal dishonor oh your
line Berenice, listen! may the curse of
your father '
The girl pressed his arm heavily; she
tried to speak but her parted lips, were
whito as marble, and refused to utter a
sound:
Tho old man looked on hcr;and tho curse
on his lips was stayed. He looked on her,
and kissed her ere lie went, for he had ten
dctly loved her mother.
My sister!' t'ij faintly answorsd, as he
moved avvaj , but Flavius answered.
'.You will never see her againjyou would
infect her with your superstition; 1 cannot
be left childless in my old ago.' And the
old man went, and as the last sound of his
departing step died away, Berenice thought
her worst trial was over, and she withdrew
her thoughts from the world, and sought to
prepare her soul for death;
Late in the following day, the people of
Rome assembled in the ampilheatre, to wit
ness the martyrdom of the Christians
Horrible deaths they uieu 1 borne were
torn to pieces by wild beasts; others were
burned al a slow fire; some few were cruci
fied,and they counted such death an unmer
ited honor. Berenice was reserved fur the
last, and because sho was of Roman patri
cian blood sho was to sillier the milder pun
ishment of decollation. The sign was giv
en, and when it was proclaimed by the her
ald, that the Christian maiden was coming
forth, there was so deop a silence among
that vast multitudo that even tho advancing
steps of the girl and her conductors woro
heard. But what was the aurpriso of all
present, when they beheld, not one, but
two young maidens, both dressed alike in
white raiment, both coming forth with tho
same quiet step, uno placid demeanor; and
one, it might be tho most tranquil, advan
ced a stop towards the seat whero he who
governed tho city, during tho absence of
Marcus Autonius sat, and thus addressed
him.
It is I, most noble perfect, who am Ber
enice the Christian; this girl, my sister, for
lovo of me, would fain take rny name and
punishment on herseif, but credit her not, it
is I who am tho condemned.'
Then arose a touching dispute between
the sisters; sisterly love lending one the
eloquence which tho other derivod from
truth. Many of their friends, and even of
their relatives, m the ampitheatre, were
called on to come down and decide between
them, but some spoke for tho ono and some
spoke for the other. Veronica, in her ago
nizing fears, had lost the light and joyous
expression of her countenance; and Bere
nice's meek and hely hopes had chased
tho deep rrielancholv from her face & mien.
One or two bniiel voices arose and said,
'they both call lliomselves Christians, lot
them both die tho death ! but one of the
k '
maidens answered, 'think not, most nobl8
prefect, it you thus decree, that you will
be guiltless of my sisters blood: sho is not
a Christian at heart; would to God sho.
werel then would I no longer oppose hor
sharing my sarly death. Veronica.acknowl
edge the truth,arid leave me to suffer alone.'
But Veronica, if she it was, persisted in her
first declaration, and none could tell how.
this dispute would terminate, when a new
incident attracted the attention of ths multi
tude, and sileucbd doubt. . ,,. .
A speck was socn in the air; it came low
er; nearer; u was a milk-white dove. Iho.
bird fluttered round one, then drew near
tho other; no caressing hand wa3 held out
to receive him but his instinct was not to bo.
deceived; ho settled on the choulder of her
who had answered tbc harsh voies from tho
crowd, and sought to nestle aa he was wont
in her long hair. Many were present who
knew the pet belonged to Berenice, ha tho
people were satisfied with this docision,and
Iho weeping Vcrbnica,still protesting againeC
her own identity, was torn from th arms
of her sister. Then the prefect, who had!
been much moved at the singular isbenej
turned to Berenice, as she stood alona
the arena, and said : ,
'It is not yet too" lata, young maiden,
preserve thy life; have pity on thy youtli
and loveliness, and on the gray hairs of thy
aged father. What harm is it to swear by
the fortune of Caisar and to sacrifice and
be safe?' But she answered more firmly
than ever.
"t
to'
' I am a Christian, and I oannoi sacrifice -to
your false Gods ! You condemn me to
death, but I fear nol to die in defence of tho
truth.' Sho advanced unbidden, to the fatal
block, and knelt by it; yet, ers she joined
her hands, in prayer, she bent onco more,
fondly over her little messenger bird, as if
to bid farewell to ths last object that told of
earthly tics. There wa3 a small scroll of
parchment undsr its wing; Berenico felt it,
and thinking it might porhapa tell her the
only tiding3 she cared now to hear she rase'
again, and holding it forth she prayed per
mission to read it. The prefect did uot re
fuse, and Berenice read, first in silence and
then aloud i 'The Emperor Marcus is
dead, and Commodus is already proclaimed
Ca:sar. A loud shout rent Ihe air. It was
well known ihat Commodus, in liis heart
favored tho despised sect; and in spite of
their prejudices Berenico moved the heart3
of her countrymen in her favor. A general
outcry for her release was heard, but thus
the prefect dared not grant. Berenice was
remanded to prison until tho pleasuro of
Commodus should bs known respecting the'
Christian. It was not very long ere, weari
ed with tho hardships of tho camp, ho re
turned to his capital, and his first order was
that all Christians should be released, and
restored lo thsir privileges as Roman citi
zens. In his train came tho young Lucius!
ho had found leisuro amid all ihe excite
ment of glory.and the hardships of his cam
paign, to study the precious gift of his be
trothed, at first for love of her, afterwards
from a wish to know the truth. So wheri
their nuptials delayed awhile by tho death
of Flavius Torquatus, v'ere at last solemni-
ed, Berenice had tho deep happiness of
knowing thai iho husband of her ehoice,
shared ths euro faith and pure hops of her
own spirit. They remained nol long in
Rome, the folliei and cruelties of Commo;
dus, rendered it distasteful to them, altho'
Lucius stood high in his favor, as ho was
very capricious, ihey knew not how long it
might remain in their own power to depart
or abide in safety. They, thereforo bade
adieu without a sigh, to the pomp and lux
uries of the capital, and embarked for a lit
tle island in the northwest of Europe, with
out the range of civilization, where they
should enjoy safety mid freedom.
Berenico was perfectly happy; she gavo
not ono regret to the magnificence she aban
doned, for Lucius was with her, and as she
stepped into tho boat a trembling, caressing
girl clung to her, and a soft voice whisper
ed in her ear: My sister! whither tho'tl
goest,l will go; thy people shall bo my pecf
pie, and thy God my God:'