return from a campaign against the Marcomanni which had been far from successful. Beyond doubt he paid the last penalty for his excesses which had become more and more shameless and ungovernable. Marcus Aurelius strongly disapproved of his conduct but did not go beyond silent reproof; he must be quite exonerated from the charge that was laid against Lucilla, who was said to have poisoned her worthless husband from shame at his misconduct, not unmixed with jealousy of Faustina, the base wife of Marcus Aurelius, whose amours were barefaced and innumerable. Lucius Verus died at Altinun in Venetia, but his ashes were brought to Rome for interment in the mausoleum of Hadrian. Marcus Aurelius afterwards reigned alone, and with prudent energy faced successfully many serious trials,--insurrections in distant provinces, pestilence at home, inundations and earthquakes which devastated large sections of the Imperial City and ruined the great granaries on which depended the food supply of the teeming population. Fierce, intractable enemies threatened the empire closely and persistently throughout his life. Although by predilection a man of peace, he was a resolute soldier who fought many strenuous campaigns and brought many savage races into absolute submission. He could act with the sternest severity, but he showed extraordinary magnanimity to one insubordinate lieutenant, and treated rebellious provinces with extreme gentleness. He was so mild and merciful that under no provocation did he lose his temper, and his humanity showed itself in his concern for his fellow creatures; even for the gladiators whom he would not allow to practise fencing with sharp swords. His labours were incessant; his campaigns most arduous. For eight successive winters he warred upon the frozen banks of the Danube, and seriously injured his originally weak constitution by the hardships and unending anxieties he endured. With all his great achievements and the conspicuous services he rendered to his country, his fame rests mainly on that delightful book of meditations embodying his serene philosophy which is still read and admired by the whole world. This “noblest, wisest, purest, most virtuous and self-denying gentleman that ever in any age wore the imperial robes,” died at Vienna A.D. 180, after a reign of twenty years. He met death quietly and with dignity, not as a calamity but as a blessing: “Turn me to the rising sun for I am setting,” he said to his attendants, and covering his head he composed himself for sleep. No man bore crosses with more fortitude and no man was more sorely tried.