Tiberius, at that time, had a son of his own, Drusus, and an adopted son, Germanicus the child of his brother. Drusus must have been a fine young man; but Germanicus was the idolized hero of the Romans, a worthy son of a worthy father,—the hero of the German wars,—a great and noble soul. It may indeed have been a fanciful freak in Drusus, to ask Augustus to restore the republic which would not have been able to hold its ground for one year; but that wish could only have sprung from a lefty and generous mind. Germanicus declined the offer of the legions, who, after the death of Augustus, called upon him to take the government; he remained faithful to his adoptive father, although he certainly could not have loved him. Tiberius, on the other hand, had no faith in virtue and purity of heart; so he removed him from the scene of his triumphs, and recalled him to Rome. But his ill humour was yet increased, when Germanicus, on his return thither, met with an enthusiastic reception from the people. As Tiberius was conscious of the vices and the tyranny which he kept hidden from the world, he hated a man like Germanicus; he shrank from a contrast with his single-minded nephew: yet it may just as well have been fear for the interests of his son, as the pain of seeing by his side one so good as Germanicus, while he himself felt his own utter depravity. Germanicus now had, like Agrippa before him, the commission of superintending the _res Orientis_, the eastern frontiers and provinces; but he died shortly afterwards. Whether he died from poison or from natural causes, is a question with regard to which the ancients themselves were in the dark; yet I rather believe that his death was natural, as the accounts point rather to witchcraft than to poison, and those who chose the former expedient—to which, owing to the superstition then prevailing in Rome, people were very much inclined—would not have been likely to try the other. It is credible enough that Piso had attempted his life; but what is quite unaccountable, is that he could have fancied that conduct like this could be left unpunished by such a prince as Tiberius was. He indeed thought to curry favour with Tiberius by his insolence to Germanicus; yet he could not but have seen, that if ever the matter came to be talked of, Tiberius would sacrifice him: for although the emperor might in his heart have been rejoiced at the deed, he would, notwithstanding, have been obliged, before the world, to avenge it on the very man who had dared to act up to his wishes. Even Tacitus, in his time, had great doubts on this subject, the most contradictory rumours about it were then afloat. Thus, the Dauphiné deemed her husband, the Dauphin, the son of Louis XV., to have been poisoned by the Duc de Choiseul, which nowadays is less credited. The Dauphin, being religious, and even somewhat bigoted, was very hateful to the Duke, who was a very gay man and a freethinker, and who did not wish the expulsion of the Jesuits to