her tongue refused to utter a falsehood. She was a believer in Christ, and could not deny it. When the day of heathen joy arrived, and a multitude of confessors were led into the arena of their last conflict, Perpetua and her friend Felicitas were exposed to a wild cow. The assault of this fu ious animal, as was often the case, only mangled without slaying them. But youthful gladiators, at the call of a raging multitude, soon approached, put a period to their suffering, and opened to them the gates of joy.

"And one of the Elders answered, saying unto me, 'What are these which are arrayed in white robes, and whence came they?' And I said uuto him, 'Sir, thou knowest.' And he said unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His temple: and He that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.'

Ex una disce omnes. The martyrdom of Perpetua illustrates the way in which genuine Christians were then accustomed to bear witness for the truth. Nor can it be surprising that fortitude so unshaken frequently convinced the understanding of opponents, and led them to embrace, like Paul, the faith which they once destroyed.

"You may kill, but you cannot harm us," said Justin Martyr to Antoninus Pius and the Roman Senate.

"Rack, torture, condemn, destroy us," says Tertullian. "Your injustice is a proof of our innocence, and therefore God permits us to suffer these things. The oftener you mow us down, the greater do our numbers become. The blood of Christians is seed. Many of your own writers, as Cicero, Seneca, Diogenes, exhort to endurance of anguish and death; yet their words have never made so many disciples as Christian deeds. That very obstinacy which you reproach in us is a convincing teacher. For who is not led by witnessing it to inquire what there is in our cause? And who after examination does not join our ranks? And when he has joined, who does not long to suffer, that he may render highest thanks to God, and secure a full pardon at the price of his blood? For martyrdom is crowned with forgiveness of all sins. Hence we give thanks when you pronounce sentence of death; for, by a sort of rivalry between the human and the divine, when we are condemned by you we are absolved of God."

Principles are eternal. After the lapse of many centu

ries, the greatest nominal Church of Christendom took to herself the sword and the torch of persecution, and suffered not the dead to rest, even in their graves. The body of John Wyckliffe had been thirty years in repose, when, by order of the Tridentine Council, his bones were taken from their place, reduced to ashes, and thrown into the river which still passes the town of Lutterworth. "Thence," in the language of Fuller, "they were conducted to the Severn, the narrow seas, and the ocean; and thus became the emblem of his doctrine, which was to flow from the province to the nation, and from the nation to the many kingdoms of the world." Truth has little to fear in any age from the violence of her foes. Her deepest wounds are received in the house of her friends.

But the story of Perpetua's death suggests a peculiarity in the condition of Christian females, during the period to which my remarks must be limited. They were often associated with idolaters by the most intimate and sacred ties of life. Wives and daughters were many times converted, while their husbands or parents still adhered to the old polytheism. In such cases they were environed with difficulties and beset with temptations. They were taught to look upon idolatry with horror and dread. Yet the kitchen hearth was consecrated to false divinities. Hard by stood the images of the Lares, and upon it burned the sacred lamp. Every wife was expected to offer incense and libations to these domestic gods. But how could a Christian woman perform such unholy rites? Or how could she refuse to observe them without provoking the wrath of her husband? Moreover, when a pagan family sat down to the daily meal, libations were poured out in honor of wood or stone; and on joyous occasions the pantomimic dance and profane song were required. But what Christian could participate in such festal scenes? or what pagan husband would understand the scruples of his wife, and indulge them without a frown? Besides, polytheism filled the houses of her votaries with emblems of evil. Walls and furniture were decorated with her symbols. Cup and plate were embossed with her devices. At every step a Christian woman

would encounter something calculated to offend her purity or wound her conscience. The reign of Venus was co-extensive with that of Jove; vice rode triumphant by the side of superstition. It is not, therefore, easy to exaggerate the personal self-denial and fortitude shown by females who embraced the truth and were faithful to Christ, while their husbands continued in paganism, When Naaman, the Syrian, had been cured of his leprosy, had acknowledged the true God, and had "promised to offer neither burnt offering nor sacrifice to other gods," he added these significant words, "In this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, that when my master goeth into the house of Rimmon to worship there, and he leaneth on my hand, and I bow myself in the house of Rimmon, the Lord pardon thy servant in this thing." How many a Christian wife, during the first three centuries, must have been sorely tempted to offer a petition similar to this! It was no trivial matter to sustain the anger of a Roman husband, proud of his country and his injured gods. But it was a still greater trial to bear the revenge of a mean and vindictive soul. In the second apology of Justin, we find the following narrative. A woman of Rome, who had trod the paths of vice with her husband, was at length made acquainted with the principles of Christianity and heartily received them. Forsaking her former associates, she led a pure and blameless life. But, in defiance of all entreaties, her husband persevered in his former course. Though troubled and grieved, she was persuaded to remain with him, and endeavor by fidelity and gentleness to win him to the faith. But in vain. He grew worse and worse. Leaving Rome he visited Alexandria, where his conduct became yet more infamous than ever before. The wife now trembled, lest by continuing his companion, she should be involved in the guilt of his impious deeds. Moved by this salutary dread, she resorted to the proper measures and obtained a divorce. The infuriated man then determined upon revenge, and, as the readiest means of seizing it, accused her of being a Christian. Acquainted with the spirit of heathenism, she foresaw the inevitable result, and entreated the Emperor but for time

to arrange her domestic affairs, before answering with her life the charge preferred against her. This moderate petition was granted. But the rage of her repudiated husband, balked for the moment in this direction, soon fell upon another victim, and rejoiced in the swift and cruel execution of her teacher in the Christian faith. It will be observed that this woman did not separate from her husband on the ground of his adhesion to paganism, but on that of his outbreaking vices. Paul had long before laid down the rule, that a husband's unbelief could not justify his wife in forsaking him. Yet her life was likely to be one of many sorrows. Sometimes her transition from idolatry to the true religion proved not only a signal for her own persecution, but also for that of believers in general. Thus Herminianus, governor of Cappadocia, was embittered by the conversion of his wife against the whole body of Christians, and pursued them with exceeding cruelty. At other times, converted women were compelled by force to observe the rites of idolatry. Bona, a Christian of Carthage, was dragged away by her husband to a pagan altar, and while others held her hands, was made to offer sacrifice, though protesting that she had no part or lot in the act. Frequently, however, men were led to the reception of Christianity by the "chaste conversation," the beautiful patience, fidelity and affection of their wives. Such was the effect of conjugal excellence upon the fathers of Augustine and of Gregory Nazianzen. And Tertullian remarks, that a husband, while yet clinging to his national superstition, was frequently made to realize, by the change in his wife, "how awful goodness is." "He perceives great things, has seen proofs, knows that she has become better; and therefore refrains from opposition to her new worship." And doubtless the charms of this conjugal excellence were heightened by contrast since, in that degenerate age, marriage had nearly ceased to wear the robes of sanctity and virtue. "Where is that happiness in matrimony,' says one, "which springs from good morals, and by which, through almost six hundred years after Rome was founded, no house witnessed a divorce? Now with females, by reason of gold,

It

every limb is heavy, by reason of wine no lip is free, and divorce is longed for as if it were a fruit of marriage.' was an age of display, of outward splendor and inward misery. The grand ideas of Roman ladies were a terror to young men of moderate wealth; and a pride that we can easily excuse, led many to shrink from the dependence which was then sure to follow a union with an heiress. This pride condensed itself at length into fitting words: Intolerabilius nihil est, quam fœmina dives,—“ a rich wife is the bane of life." Language quite inapposite, we believe, at present; as female character has greatly improved since the period in question; as gentleness and modesty now lead Mammon oft in chains; and as men of the highest spirit are known to woo the fair, though likely to be encumbered with an ample dowry.

But while a general agreement prevailed among Christians in regard to the apostle's precept-" The woman which hath an husband that believeth not. . . let her not leave him," there was more diversity of opinion concerning the application of his words, "Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers." Some hesitated to understand this language as referring to marriage, and were disposed to maintain that Christianity would be the gainer should her adherents take so prominent a place in heathen families. Ambitious parents coveted for their daughters an alliance with men of rank or wealth, and suffered their religious scruples to melt away before the prospect of worldly advantages. Generally, however, they seem to have stipulated in the nuptial contract for the wife's spiritual freedom, and not rarely for her control over the religious education of her children. But even with the aid of such a compact, her path of life must still be thick-set with snares and pit-falls. Innumerable and unforeseen collisions must take place in matters both of principle and of taste. Nothing short of the tenderest love could make a union of this kind desirable. Wherever the chief motive to its formation grew out of family interest or pride, misery and sin must naturally follow. Hence Christian writers of this period strongly object to mixed marriages. Tertullian warns the