en doors admitting the view of the glowing
frescoes within. Each end of the street was adorned with a triumphal
arch: and as Glaucus now came before the Temple of Fortune, the jutting
portico of that beautiful fane (which is supposed to have been built by
one of the family of Cicero, perhaps by the orator himself) imparted a
dignified and venerable feature to a scene otherwise more brilliant than
lofty in its character. That temple was one of the most graceful
specimens of Roman architecture. It was raised on a somewhat lofty
podium; and between two flights of steps ascending to a platform stood
the altar of the goddess. From this platform another flight of broad
stairs led to the portico, from the height of whose fluted columns hung
festoons of the richest flowers. On either side the extremities of the
temple were placed statues of Grecian workmanship; and at a little
distance from the temple rose the triumphal arch crowned with an
equestrian statue of Caligula, which was flanked by trophies of bronze.
In the space before the temple a lively throng were assembled--some
seated on benches and discussing the politics of the empire, some
conversing on the approaching spectacle of the amphitheatre. One knot
of young men were lauding a new beauty, another discussing the merits of
the last play; a third group, more stricken in age, were speculating on
the chance of the trade with Alexandria, and amidst these were many
merchants in the Eastern costume, whose loose and peculiar robes,
painted and gemmed slippers, and composed and serious countenances,
formed a striking contrast to the tunicked forms and animated gestures
of the Italians. For that impatient and lively people had, as now, a
language distinct from speech--a language of signs and motions,
inexpressibly significant and vivacious: their descendants retain it,
and the learned Jorio hath written a most entertaining work upon that
species of hieroglyphical gesticulation.

Sauntering through the crowd, Glaucus soon found himself amidst a group
of his merry and dissipated friends.

'Ah!' said Sallust, 'it is a lustrum since I saw you.'

'And how have you spent the lustrum? What new dishes have you
discovered?'

'I have been scientific,' returned Sallust, 'and have made some
experiments in the feeding of lampreys: I confess I despair of bringing
them to the perfection which our Roman ancestors attained.'

'Miserable man! and why?'

'Because,' returned Sallust