s, or the fierce disdain of his military
followers.

As the attention of the new emperor was diverted by the most trifling
amusements, he wasted many months in his luxurious progress from Syria
to Italy, passed at Nicomedia his first winter after his victory, and
deferred till the ensuing summer his triumphal entry into the capital. A
faithful picture, however, which preceded his arrival, and was placed
by his immediate order over the altar of Victory in the senate house,
conveyed to the Romans the just but unworthy resemblance of his person
and manners. He was drawn in his sacerdotal robes of silk and gold,
after the loose flowing fashion of the Medes and Phnicians; his head
was covered with a lofty tiara, his numerous collars and bracelets were
adorned with gems of an inestimable value. His eyebrows were tinged
with black, and his cheeks painted with an artificial red and white.
The grave senators confessed with a sigh, that, after having long
experienced the stern tyranny of their own countrymen, Rome was at
length humbled beneath the effeminate luxury of Oriental despotism.

The Sun was worshipped at Emesa, under the name of Elagabalus, and
under the form of a black conical stone, which, as it was universally
believed, had fallen from heaven on that sacred place. To this
protecting deity, Antoninus, not without some reason, ascribed his
elevation to the throne. The display of superstitious gratitude was the
only serious business of his reign. The triumph of the god of Emesa over
all the religions of the earth, was the great object of his zeal and
vanity; and the appellation of Elagabalus (for he presumed as pontiff
and favorite to adopt that sacred name) was dearer to him than all the
titles of Imperial greatness. In a solemn procession through the streets
of Rome, the way was strewed with gold dust; the black stone, set in
precious gems, was placed on a chariot drawn by six milk-white horses
richly caparisoned. The pious emperor held the reins, and, supported by
his ministers, moved slowly backwards, that he might perpetually enjoy
the felicity of the divine presence. In a magnificent temple raised on
the Palatine Mount, the sacrifices of the god Elagabalus were celebrated
with every circumstance of cost and solemnity. The richest wines, the
most extraordinary victims, and the rarest aromatics, were profusely
consumed on his altar. Around the altar, a chorus of Syrian damsels
performed their lascivious dances to t