Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1854-06-07
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A tale Of the Earlv christians.

balo 0A Cne Early Christians.
In the reign of Marcus Aurelius Anton.
ius, there lived in Rome good old Sena.
tor, who had two daughters. Veronica
and Bcrenice were noted, less for their
beauty aud genteness, than for the extra
ordinary resemblance they bore to each
other, aud for theirmutual affection. These
girls we're twins, their mother had died
during their infancy, and it was found, af-
ter her death, that mother eyes only had
been able TO distinguish the children. Had
their father, Flavius Torquatus, bestowed
much Of bis time and attention on them,
he might hate acquired the Same power Of
discrimination; but the noble patrician's
hours were divided between the senate
houses and the court; and when he came
home at night, wearied, he was we'll e.
nough pleased to play with his two sweet
little girls without farther troubling him.
self concerning them. And yet he was a
kind father he entreated his widowed Sis
ter to take up her abode with him, that
she might take care Of the children; he al
lotted for their use magnificent suite Of
rooms; Veronica and Berenice had scarce
ly wish ungrati6ed
As they increased in years, the remark
able similarity of their persons remained
undiminished, but their characters became
essentially different Berenice was pen
sive, gentle, it might be somewhat melan-
choly, studious, and fond of retirement !;
Veronica was volatile, giddy, of quick and
warm affections yet did these points of
difference not lessen their fond affection
They had completed their sixteenth year
when, among the presents brought by their
father on his return from visit to the East,
was young female slave of extraordinary
intelligence aud merit. She soon became
the favorite Of Berenice, and the noble
young Roman would frequently recline for
hours on her couch, while the slave beside
her, occupied at her embroidery, would tell
her tales of her own family and native land
She wept when she spoke of her peaceful
home and aged parents, and BE enice felt
as though she loved the girl the more for
her fond regret She asked her for what
cause her liberty had been forfeited, for
she knew that ALICE had not been born a
slave, but on this point she could not OBJ
tain satisfaction. Berenice would not pur-
sue the painful subject, but her sister Gu
riosity was not SO easily suppressed. She
questioned her father, and the reply of
Flavius made both his daughters start with
horror.
~. ey.-Ss.ss---- re SsSsI, T0r crime
Ia ablacker nature than you can conceive,
crime that merited death, but | pitied
youth nay he continued, be not a
lned, she cannot, will not injure you,
td--you are Romans, aud noble, Bere-
ne!-you will not descend to undue ia
riliarity with slave
Berenice remembered this injunction
da meant to obey it: but shortly after
his conversation she was attacked by a
painful illness. and, during the tedi
oas hours Of slecpless nights, she could no
refrain from desiring ALICE to tell her sto
rits, and sing her songs, as she had beer
vent to do. Often and often as she watch
cd the quick, soft step Of her attendant
and compared her unwearied assiduity ant
gentle activity with the Incidence and care
lessness Of her other slaves, she wondere,
what could be the crime of which so NEE
aud uuofending creature had been gull
~. One night she felt worse than usual
an1 having persuaded her sister to retir
for awhile, she lay perfectly still, meditatinl
|. - 6n- tho past, aud on the future, that fearfu
future, Of which she knew so little, an
which she so much dreaded. Alice wa
kneeliug by her couch, and believing he
mistress to be asleep, she prayed in sot
voice to the God Of the Christians for he
recovery. Berenice listened in still after
ton she heard to her surprise, the mod
alton of being implored, Of whose yer
existence she was totally ignorant; she sa
ALICE rise at last, with an expression
resignation aud holy hope in her meekl
raised eyes, which she had never witnesst
IN the votaries of Jove. She called Il
trembling girl to her side, and bade h
quickly explain her sacred faith. AL
hesitated; she knew the danger she wou
incur for both, and some remains Of the fe
Of man yet fingered about her heart; b
she conquered the unworthy feeling, an
drawing from the folds Of her robe a r
of parchment, she read aloud to her attC
q awe auditress the record of the most 81
prising event in the history of mankind.
Many months had passed away. o
evening the sisters were together in tn
own apartment. Veronica stood befor
mirror, her vest Of satin, her flower wrea
ed robe, her zone Of brilliants told that
was preparing for festival. At the far
or end Of the room Berenice was seated
She was arrayed in plain white dress, 4
her long hair fell unbraided in its own T
lnxuriance about her throat and shouldt
with one hand she fondled snow wi
dove, aud ever and anon her dark hair
over the gentle bird, and it nestled lovi
ly within il; the other rested on pal
mont which appeared to engross the I
dens deepest attention.
Come now, Borenice,' said her sis
playfully fixing the wreath of roses,
pared for herself, on her sisters brow,
Aside for once your melancholy book,
send your dove to his rest, aud come d
with me to tho banquet. Berenice loC
up, and answered gently,
No. 50, Veronica, not to night;
tho anniversary of poor Alce's death
did she not die for love of me, watc
and waiting when all others slept?
image hassbeon with me through the
/ cannot Join the banquet with my
fan Of sad memories; leave me, sis
and Bsrenice took of, and returned
wreath. :,