'To this--that the omens of the day bear not upon your eastern expedition, but upon the new religion! You are warned as the great high priest, by these signs in heaven and on earth--not against this projected expedition, which is an act of piety,--but against this accursed superstition, which is working its way into the empire, and threatening the extermination and overthrow of the very altars on which you laid your costly offerings. What concern can the divinities feel in the array of an army, destined to whatever service, compared with that which must agitate their sacred breasts as they behold their altars cast down or forsaken, their names profaned, their very being denied, their worshippers drawn from them to the secret midnight orgies of a tribe of Atheists, whose aim is anarchy in the state and in religion; owning neither king on earth nor king in heaven--every man to be his own priest--every man his own master! Is not this the likeliest reading of the omens?' 'I confess, Fronto,' the Emperor replied, the cloud upon his brow clearing away as he spoke, 'that what you say possesses likelihood. I believe I have interpreted according to my fears. It is as you say--the East only has been in my thoughts. It cannot in reason be thought to be this enterprize, which, as you have said, is an act of piety--all Rome would judge it so--against which the heavens have thus arrayed themselves. Fronto! Fronto! I am another man! Slave,' cried he aloud to one of the menials as he passed, 'let Mucapor be instantly summoned. Let there be no delay. Now can my affairs be set on with something more of speed. When the gods smile, mountains sink to mole-hills. A divine energy runs in the current of the blood and lends more than mortal force to the arm and the will.' As he spoke, never did so malignant a joy light up the human countenance as was to be seen in the face of Fronto. 'And what then,' he hastily put in as the Emperor paused, 'what shall be done with these profane wretches?' 'The Christians! They must be seen to. I will consider. Now, Fronto, shall I fill to the brim the cup of human glory. Now shall Rome by me vindicate her lost honor and wipe off the foulest stain that since the time of Romulus has darkened her annals.' 'You will do yourself and the empire,' rejoined the priest, 'immortal honor. If danger ever threatened the very existence of the state it is now from the secret machinations of this god-denying tribe.' 'I spake of the East and of Valerian, Fronto. Syria is now Rome's. Palmyra, that mushroom of a day, is level with the ground. Her life is out. She will be hereafter known but by the fame of her past greatness, of her matchless Queen, and the glory of the victories that crowned the arms of Aurelian. What now remains but Persia?' 'The Christians,' said the priest, shortly and bitterly.