THE ROMAN GENERAL...(part-3)
God tries those whom He loves. Having chosen Placidus for & vessel of election, he proved him by a series of afflictions, which made the patience of this great servant
shine more conspicuously than any other virtue. His
biographers have compared him to the great patriarch
Job. But that light which had entered his heart had
taught him the secret value of trials and afflictions—that
they were the choicest favors of Heaven.
He whom he had now taken for his Master and Model
was ever in sorrow and affliction, the disciple is not to
be better than the Master. A life of ease, a bed of down,
silken garments, and ornaments of jewels and gold, are
not the armor which distinguishes the soldiers of a naked
and crucified God. When we suffer the slight and passing sorrows of life, we should remember they are tokens
of God's predilection and sanctification for our souls. After his
baptism and reception into the Church, Placidus returned to the
memorable spot in the Sabine hills where he had beheld the wonderful
vision, to give thanks to God. The Most High was pleased with his prompt
and generous response to the call of grace, and vouchsafed to give him
again other and consoling visions, and to forewarn him of the trials
that were awaiting him. He had no sooner reached his home after his
pilgrimage, than the terrible storm of sorrow broke on him and crushed
him to the very earth. The sad tale of his trial would excite pity in
the hardest heart. In a few days he lost all his horses and cattle, and
every living thing about his house, even his servants and domestics were
swept away by a virulent pestilence. The awful gloom that death had
spread around, the stench of unburied carcases, and the unhealthy state of the
corrupted atmosphere, obliged him to leave his home for awhile; but
this was a source of new affliction. During his absence
thieves had entered his house and removed everything
he had; he was reduced to absolute beggary. At this
time the whole city was rejoicing and celebrating the
triumph of the Roman arms over the Persians. Placidus
could not join in these festivities, and, overcome with
grief, disappointment and shame, he agreed with his
wife to flee to some unknown country, where at least
they could bear their sufferings and their poverty without
the cruel taunts of proud and unfeeling friends.
They made their way to Ostia, and found a vessel
about to start for Egypt. They had no money to pay
for a passage, but the captain, who was a cruel and bad
man, seeing the youth and beauty of Theopista, the wife
of Placidus, felt an impure passion spring up in his heart,
and thought, by permitting them on board, he might; be
able to gratify his wicked desires. But he knew nothing
of the beauty, the sublimity, the inviolability of the virtue
of chastity in the Christian female, and when he found
himself treated with the scorn of indignant virtue at even
the whispered suggestion of infidelity, he writhed under
his disappointment, and meditated revenge. The devil
suggested a plan. Arrived at the shores of Africa, the
captain again demanded the fee for the passage, and intimated to Placidus, if it were not paid, he would keep
Theopista as a hostage. He was sent on shore with his
two helpless little children, and his beautiful and faithful
spouse was forcibly detained on board; they immediately set sail for
another port.
Poor Placidus felt the warm tears steal down his cheek as he saw the
sails of the little bark filled with a fair wind, and waft from him the
greatest treasure he possessed in this world. He saw himself on a barren
and inhospitable shore, exiled, poor, and widowed. Did his faithful
legions but know of his sad fate, how their trusty swords would flash in
vindication of their injured general! Looking on his little ones, robbed
of their mother and protector, he drew them near his breaking heart, and
pointing, with a trembling finger, to the white speck the little vessel
had now made on the blue horizon, he cried out: "Your mother is given to
a stranger." Striking his forehead with his hand, he bent down and wept
bitterly. There is no pang in human sorrow so galling as blighted
affection, and this is more keenly felt when the object of our love is
handed over, not to death, to bloodshed, or want, but to infamy and
dishonor. Even the pagan parent would plunge the dagger into the heart
of his Virginia rather than let her live in
dishonor.
But "better is the patient man than the brave." The
man who can bear trials and misfortune is greater than
the hero of the battle-field. Remembering his promise
to God in the ravine of the Apennines, he instantly
checked his grief; and rising up, with an ejaculation like
holy Job, and taking his two little children by the hand,
he moved towards the interior of the country with a brave
and resigned heart. But God had other trials to prove
him yet more.
He had not gone far when he came up to a river much
swollen by some late rains; it was faceable, but Placidna
saw it would be dangerous to take his two children over
together, so he determined to take one first, then another.
Leaving one on the bank, he entered into the stream with
the youngest. He had scarcely reached the opposite bank
when the screams of the other child attracted his attention, and looking round, he beheld an enormous lion
taking the child in his mouth and carrying it away to
devour it. Placidus left the infant in his arms on the
bank, and, reckless of fear or danger, plunged once more
into the rushing torrent. Grief must be terrible when it
can make an unarmed man believe lie can chase and fight
the king of the forest. He was scarcely out of the stream
when his other child was seized by a wolf. This last
afflicting sight paralyzed his courage, and he could not
move another step. He fell on his knees, and appealed
to the great God who he knew had arranged all, with the fervor of his
young faith and the natural sorrow of
a bereaved father, lie prayed for patience that no
blasphemy might escape from his lips—that no misgivings might undermine the confidence of his worship
He remained for some time in prayer, and felt the balm
of heavenly consolation gradually creeping over his
troubled soul. Faith alone can break the barriers of
time and waft the soul in anticipation to the union that
immortality must bring. Placidus committed his family
to God, and knew they were happy; and as for himself, he determined to bear manfully the few days of trouble
which Providence had yet allotted to him. He arose
once more from his prayer, strengthened and consoled,
more detached from every human consolation, more
united to God. He soon left the vicinity of these sad
and sorrowful scenes, and fled to another part of the
country.
We next find Placidus as a poor laborer in a farm
called Bardyssa. But this is the last part of the dark
night of his trial, the twilight that precedes a glorious
sunrise. Almighty God had now proved His servant by
the severest adversity which can befall a man: in a
whirlwind of affliction he blasted all his temporal comforts, his domestic
felicity and paternal affection, and the
neophyte vessel of election was found faithful, and now comes the sunshine of his crown. Some years had passed
since he lost his wife and children, and he had spent all
that time unknown, in labor, prayer, and solitude,
mounting higher and higher on the ladder of perfection,
and in union with God; but the time of his reward is at
hand, and by one grand stroke of that all-directing Providence which knows no chance, he was restored to all his
former honor and comfort. He was again placed at the
head of the Roman army, and restored to the embraces
of his wife and children, never more to be separated, not
even by death; for they were all brought together to the
endless joys of heaven by the glorious death of martyrdom. Let us follow the course of events that brought
about these great and consoling effects.
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