“If you wish for my head, here it is. I am willing at any time to surrender it for the good of the Roman people.” Scarcely had he uttered these words ere a sinewy soldier, with one blow of his heavy broadsword, struck off his head, and it rolled upon the pavement. Another soldier seized it by the hair, and thrust a pike into the palpitating flesh; and, with the shoutings of tumultuous thousands, the gory trophy was paraded through the streets. Such were the scenes which were witnessed in pagan Rome while the disciples of Jesus were preaching in obscurity, but with invincible zeal, from house to house, the gospel of love to God, and love to man. The senate, overawed by the army, was compelled to ratify this foul assassination, and to declare Otho emperor. We have now reached the year of our Lord 67. There was at this time an ambitious but able general, named Vitellius, in command of a powerful Roman army upon the Danube. He had secured the good-will of his fiendlike troops by the plunder which he allowed them, and the license in which they were permitted to indulge. He refused to recognize Otho as emperor; and, raising the standard of revolt, by a vote of the army caused the imperial dignity to be conferred upon himself. Vitellius, at the head of his army, marched upon Rome to wrest the sceptre from the hands of his rival. Otho advanced to meet him. The armies were each seventy thousand strong. They encountered each other on the plains of Lombardy, near Mantua. The battle was long and bloody. At length, the legions of Otho were utterly routed and dispersed. Dismissing most of his attendants, the ruined adventurer fell upon his own sword, and died. He had previously requested his slaves to bury him immediately. “This had been his earnest request,” writes Tacitus, “lest his head should be cut off, and be made a public spectacle.” Vitellius, who at once compelled the senate to proclaim him emperor, was not by nature a tyrannical man; but he was luxurious and dissolute in the extreme, surrendering himself to every possible form of self-indulgence. He even equalled Nero in his unbridled, shameless profligacy. It is said that the expenses of his table alone, for a period of four months, amounted to a sum equal to about thirty million dollars. There was little in the character of such a man to excite either respect or fear. A conspiracy was soon formed for his overthrow. There was quite a distinguished general, named Vespasian, in command of the Roman army in Judæa. He had acquired celebrity in the wars of Germany and Britain, and, having been consul at Rome, had many acquaintances of influence there. Vespasian entered into a correspondence with the conspirators. It was not difficult to induce his soldiers to proclaim him emperor.