the
first to die. The brave girl, with a gesture of maiden modesty, drew her
dishevelled robe about her person, and with a queenly dignity awaited
the wild beast's fatal spring. She was mercifully spared the spectacle
of her father's dying agony. Her over-strung nerves gave way, and she
fell in a swoon upon the sands. Demetrius met his fate praying upon his
knees. Like Stephen, he gazed steadfastly up into heaven, and the
fashion of his countenance was suddenly transfigured as he exclaimed:
"Lord Jesus! Rachel, my beloved! we come, we come." And above the roar
of the ribald mob and the growl of the savage beasts, fell sweetly on
his inner ear the song of the redeemed, and burst upon his sight the
beatific vision of the Lord he loved, and for whom he gladly died.

So, too, like brave men, victorious o'er their latest foe, Adauctus,
Aurelius, and the others calmly met their fate. When all the rest were
slain, a lordly lion approached the prostrate form of Callirho[e:], but she
was already dead. She had passed from her swoon, without a pang, to the
marriage supper of the Lamb--to the presence of the Celestial
Bridegroom--the fairest among ten thousand, the one altogether
lovely--to whom the homage of her young heart had been fully given. She
was spared, too, the indignity, of being mangled by the lion's jaws.
When the king of beasts found that she was already dead, he raised his
massy head, gave a mournful howl, and strode haughtily away.

In the great gallery of Dor[e/] paintings at London, is one of this Flavian
Amphitheatre after a human sacrifice such as we have described. There
lie the mangled forms upon the gory and trampled sands. The sated wild
beasts prowl listlessly over the arena. The circling seats rise tier
above tier, empty and desolate. But poised in air, with outspread wings,
above the slain, with a countenance of light and a palm of victory, is a
majestic angel; and sweeping upward in serried ranks, amid the shining
stars, is a cloud of bright-winged angels, the convoy of the martyrs'
spirits to the skies. So, doubtless, God sent a cohort of sworded
seraphim to bear the martyrs of our story blessed company, and to sweep
with them through the gates into the city.

FOOTNOTES:

[50] This famous phrase dates from the time of Tertullian, in the 3rd
century, and is also recorded in the Catacombs.

[51] The _Legio Tonans_, tradition affirms, was a legion composed wholly
of Christians, whose prayers in a time