tioch. As if the long pent up fires within him, now that the mind, once so all-powerful, had ceased to control them, burst out with tenfold violence. The empress started to her feet in terror. But once before had the outburst taken place in her presence. "Leave me, woman," he cried, through his clenched teeth, "leave me-it were better for us both." But she stirred not from her position. She raised her streaming eyes to heaven, but spake not. What eloquence of prayer was in that fixed, devoted glance. "Leave me, woman," thundered the emperor again, as he rose and smote the table with his clenched hand. Then, struck with surprise at the attitude and calm bearing of the noble being before him, his eye settled into a steady glare, and he stood as if rooted to the spot. "Beware!" "If this be so," replied Dioclesian, "I will inquire into it, and justice shall be done; if they have transgressed the edict they must suffer. And now, Eordric, Dioclesian seeks repose. To-morrow he will judge and do that which is right. I pardon thy rash and wild words, for the sake of our old friendship." The Goth was moved by the sincerity which he threw into his last words, but it was evident that his doubts still remained. With a haughty obcisance he withdrew. CHAPTER X. THE ULPIAN LIBRARY. In your still grandeur, from the pillared walls THE LAST CONSTANTINE. THE Baths of Dioclesian, the most celebrated It was a single word, but uttered in that deep emphatic tone which sends a thrill to the heart. It arrested the ear of both. They turned and beheld Eor-structure of the kind in Rome, had just been comdric, the Gothic leader. pleted, and the admiration of the idle multitude of the metropolis, at their extent and splendor, was unbounded. Architecture, sculpture, and painting, He strode into the apartment, fully armed, his massive sword smiting the greaves of his armor. "Beware, tyrant, nor stain thy hands with more had exhausted their resources in ornamenting them, blood," he said. and the vast collection of colonnades, porticos, A moment seemed now sufficient to enable Diocle- and halls, when seen together, bore the appearsian to regain his calmness. He retreated to his couch ance of a beautiful city. In their erection, forty and seated himself, with a gesture towards Presca { thousand Christians were employed, whom, after which she dared not disobey. She made a slight degrading with all the insignia of ignominy, the reobeisance to Eordric, and retired. morseless rulers of the empire caused to be massacred "Hear me, Dioclesian," exclaimed the fiery Eor-when the edifice was completed. And yet, in God's dric. "I have fought under thy standards in all cour- providential dispensations, this very structure has for age and loyalty. My nation has been as a rampart of ages constituted the seat of one of the proudest steel around thee, in many a well-fought field, when churches of Rome. The church of the Carthusians the strife was doubtful. But Eordric serves Diocle- now remains as the only relic of the gorgeous pile; sian no longer for his great and mighty name is de-and the organ and the choral strain of devotion are graded to purposes of lust and murder." now daily heard, where once the lash of cruel perse "What meanest thou, barbarian!" the emperor re-cution resounded. Perhaps there is in reserve for the plied, sternly. "As I passed the descent of the Aventine," he answered, "thy soldiers were busied with the old men and the defenceless women among the Christians." "Thou hast read the edict," replied the emperor, coldly. "I care not for your edicts," added the generous Goth, "but hearing thy name urged as the warrant for this disgraceful act of wanton violence, I am here to tell thee that Eordric renounces his alliance with the Rome which can sanction such deeds." "Galerius will hear thee" spot a still brighter evidence of providential care, when the purity of primitive Christianity shall be restored where the idolatries of the Papacy are now openly practised. Surmounting the principal portico, was the chamber in which the emperor had caused to be deposited the valuable treasure of the Ulpian library. The place had already become the favorite resort of the philosophers, poets, and rhetoricians, who aspired to direct the public taste and control the public mind. At an early hour, the luxurious couches, from which the inmates were enabled to command a view of the Prætorian camp, and of the public avenues which led to and surrounded it, were occupied by two or three individuals, seemingly in earnest conversation. "Galerius has heard me, and the cowardly Prætorians have felt the weight of my indignation, for I endeavored-alas! that I endeavored in vain-to save the defenceless from captivity. Augustus! it remains Constantine was one of these. He held in his hand with thee to say, whether Eordric shall be a friend or a manuscript of the Gospels, the gift of Aurelia at a foe to Rome. I demand the release of the widow of Antioch. Beside him sat one of the presbyters of the Aurelian and her daughter, who were an hour ago car-Church at Rome, and an officer of the imperial houseried to the Mamertine prison." hold completed the group. "In that hour of solemn renunciation," continued Gyras, "I doubt not he will listen to the last appeal of justice." “He will, he must listen to it,” replied Constantine, fervently. "I will myself become a suppliant, if need be, in the very face of the Cæsar and his licentious "Accept my thanks, worthy Ammianus," said the young soldier, warmly, as he closed the roll and placed it within the folds of his tunic. "Thou hast rendered unto me an invaluable service. Long, indeed, did my mind struggle in the grasp of the old superstitions; longer, still, in the meshes of the philosophy of which Hierocles aspires to be the hierophant and ex-minion." pounder. I have seen the folly of the one and the vanity of the other. Listen," he added, taking a manuscript of Virgil from a richly ornamented recess near at hand, "listen to the strain in which the gifted Maro celebrates the coming of the Messiah." He then read, with much expression, the Pollio of Virgil, that remarkable poem, in which so striking a resemblance may be traced to the prophetic books. "Isaiah hath prophesied of him," replied Ammianus, "in a noble strain." His eye kindled as he recited the glowing verses of the prophet, which he accompanied with a brief comment, pointing out their application to the Redeemer. In such converse the hour passed, until the presbyter arose to depart. "I have met thee here," he said, "at thine own request, centurion, to lay before thee, so far as God hath given me strength and wisdom, the grounds of our faith in Jesus. I shall not cease to offer up my prayers that thou mayest be led to embrace the truth in the love of it. And now, farewell! for it were dangerous to thee for us to be seen together here." "A pressing duty calls the son of Constantius," added the imperial officer, who had hitherto been silent. The presbyter answered this announcement by a look of intelligence, and then left the chamber. Constantine awaited the further words of his companion. "We parted at midnight, centurion," he began, "and thou deemest thy friends in safety. Ere they reached their home they were arrested by the soldiers of Dioclesian, and conveyed to the Mamertine prison." This intelligence was so wholly unexpected by the young soldier, that he suffered a few moments to elapse without reply. "To the Mamertine prison, sayest thou?" he at length exclaimed. "Art thou certain, Gyras?" "I am certain," was the laconic reply of the other. "Tyrant!" muttered the centurion between his clenched teeth, "if I am reserved for this, let it be. May Heaven favor us, Gyras, for I see no hope in man." "There is yet hope, centurion," replied Gyras, "and it is because there is hope, that I am here to counsel thee. Thou already knowest that this is the day of the triumph decreed by the senate to Dioclesian. But thou knowest not, perhaps, that on this day, also, in the Campus Martius, he designs to lay aside the purple." "Ha!" exclaimed the centurion. "The danger is great, my lord," answered the imperial officer. "Thou art a hunted and proscribed man." "I heed no danger," exclaimed the other, "in a cause so sacred as this, but will seek the emperor ere another hour be past. If I fail, Heaven will point the way to justice, if not to vengeance." CHAPTER XI. THE MAMERTINE PRISON. The stately fane is reached, and at its gate THE report of the imprisonment of the widow of Aurelian and her daughter was indeed true. Thus far had the craft of Hierocles been enabled to accomplish its unholy designs. The victims of his plots were now separated from all who could render them efficient protection, and the name of Dioclesian had been used by the unscrupulous persecutor to sanction the outrage. The sun rose without a cloud on the day of the triumph. The broad area of the Campus Martius was covered with the temporary tents of the soldiery, from which arose the gilded standards, reflecting back the morning rays. The bosom of the Tiber was covered with gay vessels of every description, and the gold and purple drapery of the light galleys contrasted richly with the glittering mirror of the waters below. Everywhere throughout the city were observed the preparations for the triumph, which was destined to be the last, as it was the most magnificent that Rome ever beheld. Along the whole extent of the Via Triumphalis, arches were erected, bearing inscriptions which commemorated the numerous victories of Dioclesian, the virtues which were said to characterize him, and the beneficence and splendor of his reign. A colossal statue of Victory towered over the Flaminian gate, and upon the pedestal beneath her feet was inscribed, in letters of gold, the vain boast to which we have once before alluded— DIOCLETIANUS. JOVIUS. ET MAXIMIANUS. HERCULEUS The captives of the Mamertine prison awaited with deep anxiety the proceedings of the day. The chamber in which they were confined, although strongly guarded, commanded, from the eminence on which the edifice was situated, complete view of the city, so that they were enabled to witness all the course of the procession, as it entered and passed through the city. The lady Aurelia occupied a seat at the barred window of the chamber, alone. The traces of tears were upon her cheek, but yet her demeanor was calm and her brow was clear. Deeply as she felt the uncertainty and danger of her position, she had sought strength and confidence in prayer. Her mother, exhausted by the anxieties and toils of the night, had fallen into a temporary slumber upon her couch. The eye of the maiden often turned towards the sleeper, and her ear caught every breath. Behind these follow the spoils of all nations, and among them the images of the household of Narses, and the spoils of that king himself, taken by Galerius. The lictors are there, with their fasces crowned with laurels, after whom comes a great company of musicians and dancers, dressed like satyrs, and wearing crowns of gold, in the midst of whom is one clothed in a female garb, whose business it is with looks and gestures to insult the vanquished.” "But the emperors, my daughter?" exclaimed the lady. "They come. I see the giant form of Maximian, clothed in purple and gold, towering from the chariot. At his side is Dioclesian, his brow crowned with laurel, a branch of laurel in his right hand, and in his left an ivory sceptre surmounted by a golden eagle. The golden amulet hangs on his breast and glitters in the sunlight. The chariot is drawn by four white When the peal of the distant trumpets was first steeds. Behind them comes a chariot in which sits heard, she looked eagerly towards the Campus Mar-} Galerius, and the empress, with the princess Valeria, tius. As she did so, she beheld the procession cross-around whom attend a vast body of citizens clothed ing the Triumphal bridge. Her ear could almost dis- in white. A slave, carrying a golden crown sparkling tinguish the accents of the triumphal songs which with gems, stands behind the emperor, and is now were chanted by the musicians who led the proces-bending to whisper in his ear." sion. Beyond these she saw the oxen to be sacrificed, having their horns gilt and their heads adorned with fillets and garlands; the carriages filled with spoils taken by Dioclesian from the enemy, glittering with marble statues, pictures, plate, armor, gold, silver, and brass; the rich and massy pile appropriately surmounted by golden crowns and other gifts sent by the allied and tributary states. Next to these she saw the images of the conquered countries and cities, borne along in cars drawn by animals brought from those "The consuls and senators," continued Aurelia, in countries respectively. Here Africa and Britain, the a voice tremulous with emotion excited by the recolRhine, the Danube, and the Nile, furnished their re-lections which her mother's words called up, "the spective trophies. But with these followed a new and grateful spectacle to the vanity of the people. The Persian victory had its peculiar representation. The images of the captive wives, the sisters, and the chil-rated with the gifts which they have received for their dren of the great king, were carried forward in chains, to grace the procession of the lords of the world. The attention of Aurelia was for a moment called from this magnificent spectacle, by the voice of her mother. She hastened to her couch, and kneeling beside it, seized her hand and pressed it to her lips. "Bless thee, my daughter!" she said, "I am refreshed by the slumber which I have enjoyed. Hast thou heard aught of the designs of our enemies, since I closed my eyes?" "Alas! the vanity of human greatness. It was in such a chariot, my daughter, that thy noble father celebrated his triumph, and the words of the slave are yet ringing in my ear, REMEMBER THAT THOU, ALSO, ART A MAN.' The memory of that vain pageant yet lived in the minds of the populace of Rome, when Aurelian fell beneath the dagger of the assassin. But God is good! Proceed, my daughter, and tell me what thou seest more." consuls and senators follow on foot after the imperial chariot; and, lo! the victorious army comes, all in the order of the march, crowned with laurel and deco valor. And now I hear their united shout, 'IO TRIUMPHE,' repeated by the crowd, at which Dioclesian bends graciously to the vociferous populace. The procession divides; now the chariot of the emperor ascends to the capitol. The streets are strewed with flowers, and the altars smoke with incense." "Vain offerings," interrupted the lady, "to the remorseless god of war. May Heaven spare its vengeance for the blood of the captives which shall this day be shed at the capitol." "The chariot of the emperor pauses beyond the fo "Nothing, my mother," replied the maiden, with tender solicitude. "Nothing-but the triumph is pro- { rum.” ceeding." “Our hour, then, has not yet come. Hasten again to the casement, my daughter, and tell me what thou secst." "The musicians have reached the porta triumphalis. I see the chosen animals for the idolatrous sacrifices. "Then the dreadful work of slaughter is about to commence. Come to me, my daughter, for thou shouldest not look upon that scene of blood. Let us rather seek peace in prayer, for we know not when the hand of the assassin shall reach ourselves." The Roman maiden knelt down beside the couch of her mother, and lifted up her voice in prayer. An hour of solemn communion succeeded, during which they conversed freely concerning the dangers and uncertainties of their situation, until the sound of footsteps in the vestibule aroused them. The door opened and a eunuch of the imperial household stood before them. He bowed his head reverently, as he crossed the threshold, and said— "The ear of Dioclesian is open, lady. He awaits thee at his villa on the Tiber. Before he resigns the purple, he will hear and adjudge thy cause." Aurelia and her mother looked at each other for a moment, doubtfully. The latter at length replied— "Does the emperor first commit to prison those to whom he would do justice?" CHAPTER XII. THE LAST HOUR OF EMPIRE. BEDA, IN EXCERPTES, &C. While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; SUCH is said to have been the involuntary exclamation of the pilgrims of the North, when, in the eighth century, they contemplated with awe and admiration the magnificent edifice of the Coliseum, stripped of the ornaments which had clustered around it in other days, and reduced to its naked majesty. In the age "The emperor, illustrious lady," answered the eu- of Dioclesian, however, the Flavian amphitheatre yet nuch, "knew not of thy imprisonment; it is an out-stood in all its grandeur. Wars and revolutions had rage which he has already resented. Thou art free."hitherto spared it. It yet held its statues of gods and "And my daughter?" continued the matron, still heroes-its ornaments of sculpture cast in brass, or doubtfully. overspread with leaves of silver and gold-its rich paintings-its beautifully carved marbles—its profuse and costly drapery. "I am commanded to request her to await thee here, whence, on thy return, you will both be conducted to a place of safety." "I go not hence alone, slave! Haste back to thy master and tell him that the wife of Aurelian leaves not her child even for an hour." "Think not of me, my mother," exclaimed Aurelia, earnestly," there can be no danger. I am strong in the confidence that the God to whom we have now so solemnly committed our cause, will watch over us and protect us. Go, my mother, for Dioclesian has promised to adjudge that which is right. In this spacious building were appointed the gladiatorial shows and games which were to succeed the triumph in the morning, and here Dioclesian had determined on that day to resign the sceptre. The contests of the gladiators had already taken place, and the appetite for blood was roused. A dense mass of human beings crowded every part of the amphitheatre, but all eyes were bent upon the arena in the midst. The time had come for a public spectacle, more cruel, and yet more grateful to assembled Rome "Alas! my daughter, thou knowest not what thou than the fierce contests of the barbarian gladiators. askest." "Doubt not, but go," again said Aurelia, "the hours will pass without anxiety, for I will seek the blessing of God on thy mission." The empress gazed upon her animated countenance for a short time in silence, and a tear stole down her cheek as she did so. But the struggle soon ceased. She arose from her couch, and supported by the eunuch, left the room. A covered litter borne by slaves was in the vestibule, and as she took her seat in it she waved a farewell to her daughter. Aurelia was left alone. Her first impulse was to supplicate God's protection. When the Roman maiden arose from her knees, she again sought the window. The crowd had retired from the capitol and the principal streets, and were now pouring towards the amphitheatre of Vespasian, where the public spectacles of the morning were appointed. She watched the chariot which bore her mother to the interview with the emperor, until it entered within the gate of the villa. Her apprehensions for one so dear, naturally connected themselves with solicitude for the fate of Constantine, from whom, on the night preceding, she had parted. Another band of Christians were to be led forth to martyrdom. The altar for the incense was prepared, and the flamen Augustalis stood beside it. The sharp growl or heavy roar of the wild beasts, eager to be unchained upon their prey, was heard from the dens around the arena ; while the sound of the hymns which the Christians sang together, in expectation of their death, floated at intervals upon the ears of the assembly from the closed lattices of the spoliarium. Clad in the same splendid robes in which they had appeared in the triumphal procession, Dioclesian and Maximian sat together on a throne, adorned with drapery of purple and gold, in the centre of the podium. The Cæsar stood on the right, with Aglaia as priestess of Cybele. On the left, were the members and officers of the imperial household. The consuls, ediles, tribunes, and senators, arranged according to their rank, occupied the remainder of the enclosure. Among the throng of soldiers who immediately surrounded the arena, was seen Eordric, the leader of the Gothic auxiliaries, with his chosen band of knights, fully armed, in their shining mail. To these even the Prætorian guards seemed to give precedence, for the terms on which their alliance was secured were of the most honorable character. Constantine, fearless of the designs set on foot against him, stood beside his friend. The hour of martyrdom arrived. First came the loud, sharp peal of the Prætorian trumpet, followed by the voice of the edile, who exclaimed"Let the gates be opened." was welcomed. As if every feeling of tenderness had been torn from her bosom by the violent torrent of passion which had passed over it, Aglaia, with angry gestures, called for the punishment of her foster-children. The command to open the gates of the chamber in which the lions were confined, already trembled upon the lips of the edile, when an unlooked for interruption arrested his attention. From the open doors of the spoliarium, the widow of Aurelian, followed by her daughter, glided swiftly into the arena. The form of the widow seemed to be endued with new strength as she clasped Achilles Tatius to her bosom and cried aloud There was an interval of breathless silence, as the heavy doors of the spoliarium rolled backward. Soon an aged man was led out, habited in a tunic of white, with his head uncovered, and his long silvery locks flowing unbound from his neck and temples. It was the Bishop of Rome. After him came Achilles Tatius. The suffering which he had endured in the prison at Nicomedia, and during his captivity at Rome, had left their traces upon his pale countenance. But now his step was firm and his brow erect, as he advanced to the side of the prelate. He cast one burn-{children." ing glance towards the throne of the emperors, and then fixed his eyes upon the ground. Two females, whose youth and beauty drew an involuntary exclamation of admiration from the crowd, followed. Irene of Antioch, and the faithful Myrrha, shared the trials of martyrdom together. The edile spake again "Marcellinus, citizen of Rome, leader of the Christians,-Achilles Tatius, born of the purple, once an aspirant in philosophy, adjudged of treason,-Irene, daughter of Babylas of Antioch,-Myrrha, born of the purple; will ye renounce the detestable superstition of the Christians, and do homage to the gods of Rome?" The flamen Augustalis advanced to the altar and prepared the incense. But no reply was heard from the victims. "Let me die with my children. Rejoice with me, for the lost are found, and God has restored me to my Myrrha sprang forward, and seizing the hand of the matron, pressed it to her lips. In that hour of blessed re-union, the fears and trials through which they had passed, and the dangers in which they yet stood, were all forgotten. "Art thou, indeed, my mother?" exclaimed Achilles Tatius, gazing with reverential fondness into the faded countenance of his mother. "How are the pangs of this hour alleviated by the knowledge!" Aglaia started from her seat in frenzy, and called aloud for the execution of the sentence. But even the Roman populace felt the generous emotions inspired by the scene, and forbore to repeat the ruthless cry, until Galerius sprang to the front of the podium, and confronting the emperors, demanded the instant sacrifice of the victims. Dioclesian arose to speak. As his form, slightly "Speak, Marcellinus!" said Dioclesian, bending bent by his infirmities, towered above the throng from his throne. around him, the complete silence of the assembly tes"I have spoken, Augustus," was the calm reply.tified the deep interest which they felt in what he was "I am a Christian, and never since I have borne that about to say. koly name have I been abandoned by my Lord. cannot deny Him now." I "Citizens of Rome!" he began, "Dioclesian this day resigns the purple, and with him, also, Maximian A growl of anger rolled through the assembly. ceases to be emperor. But ere his account with the "Augustus!" said Achilles Tatius, raising his eyes empire is closed, he would do an act of justice which from the ground and fixing them upon the emperor, has been too long delayed. The spouse and child of "what my life has been until now, is known to all in Aurelian, an emperor whose name is justly dear to the Rome. I have renounced the vanities of false philo-Roman people, are before you. They are free, and I sophy-I am a disciple of Jesus Christ." look to you to confirm the sentence I now speak. The With furious looks, prompted by the subtle whispers rich estates in the East, of which they have been unof Hierocles, Galerius interposed. justly deprived by the avarice of the governor of By"There needs no declaration from him," he cried; thynia, I hereby restore to them. Speak, citizens of "he is doubly condemned. Proceed, edile." Rome, is not my sentence just?" The hot blood coursed over the glowing forehead of Galerius, as he heard this, and twice he essayed to Irene and Myrrha made no reply to the reiterated questions of the edile. There they stood, in their helpless innocence, clasping their hands and looking up-speak. But the calm, cold eye of the emperor was ward, with calm and tearful eyes, to heaven. fixed on him, and he remained silent. An instant after, the voice of the people was heard "They are free. Their estates are restored. Long live Dioclesian Jovius !" "Long live the emperor!" shouted Eordric, in re |