his whole
people in the matter, that, in battle, one may as well escape from the
din of clashing arms, or the groans of the dying, as, in Rome, avoid
this argument. Nay, by my sword, not a voice can I hear, either
applauding, disputing, or condemning, since I have set on foot this new
war in the East. Once, the city would have rung with acclamations, that
an army was gathering for such an enterprise. Now, it seems quite
forgotten that Valerian once fell, or that, late though it be, he ought
to be avenged. This Jewish and Christian argument fills all heads, and
clamors on every tongue. Come, let us shake off this daemon in a new cup,
and drink deep to the revenge of Valerian.'

'And of the gods,' ejaculated Fronto, as he lifted the goblet to his
lips.

'There again?' quickly and sharply demanded Aurelian, bending his dark
brows upon the offender.

'Doubtless,' said Portia, 'he means well, though over zealous, and rash
in speech. His heart, I am sure, seconds not the cruel language of his
tongue. So at least I will believe; and, in the meantime, hope, that the
zeal he has displayed for the ancient religion of our country, may not
be without its use upon some present, who, with what I trust will prove
a brief truancy, have wandered from their household gods, and the
temples of their fathers.'

'May the gods grant it,' added Livia; 'and restore the harmony, which
should reign in our families, and in the capital. Life is over brief to
be passed in quarrel. Now let us abandon our cups. Sir Christian Piso!
lead me to the gardens, and let the others follow as they may our good
example.'

The gardens we found, as we passed from the palace, to be most
brilliantly illuminated with lamps of every form and hue. We seemed
suddenly to have passed to another world, so dream-like was the effect
of the multitudinous lights as they fell with white, red, lurid, or
golden glare, upon bush or tree, grotto, statue, or marble fountain.

'Forget here, Lucius Piso,' said the kind-hearted Livia, 'what you have
just heard from the lips of that harsh bigot, the savage Fronto. Who
could have looked for such madness! Not again, if I possess the power
men say I do, shall he sit at the table of Aurelian. Poor Julia too! But
see! she walks with Tacitus. Wisdom and mercy are married in him, and
both will shed comfort on her.'

'I cannot but lament,' I replied, 'that a creature like Fronto should
have won his way so far into the confidence of Aur