A wag in one of the schools in Alexandria wrote a burlesque verse upon Caracalla. The tyrant, in consequence, ordered the whole city to be destroyed. Every man, woman, and child was ordered to be put to death. A few only of the young and beautiful were reserved as slaves. The only way in this world to be happy is to strive to promote the happiness of others. He who makes others wretched is always wretched himself. Caracalla lived the life of a demon, filling the world with woe; but, in all the empire, there was scarcely to be found a greater wretch than he. One of his generals, Macrinus, who had displeased the emperor, learning that he was doomed to death, engaged a centurion, a man of herculean strength, to assassinate him. A dagger through the back pierced the heart of the tyrant. Thus terminated the diabolical sway of Caracalla, with which God had allowed the world to be cursed for six years. The army had adored Caracalla; for he had given free rein to the license of the soldiers, and had enriched them by plunder. Macrinus, the assassin, was not illustrious either by birth, wealth, or military exploits. The soldiers reluctantly, and with many murmurs, submitted to the decision of the senate recognizing him as emperor. The army was encamped in winter quarters in Syria. Macrinus, exulting in new-born dignity, was luxuriating in his palace at Antioch. Under these circumstances, a Syrian soldier, by the name of Elagabalus, a reckless, unprincipled man, formed a conspiracy in the camp outside the walls of Antioch. He assumed that he was a son of one of the concubines of Caracalla. The soldiers, eager for the renewal of their former privileges of plunder and outrage, enthusiastically rallied around the banner of the insurgent general. There was one short battle. Macrinus was slain, and the troops with one accord welcomed Elagabalus as emperor. The senate, not daring to present opposition to the army, obsequiously confirmed its vote. This rude, untamed pagan was a worshipper of the sun. He had been a high priest in one of the idol temples. With his army enlarged by brutal hordes from the East, he marched upon Rome in the double capacity of pagan pontiff and emperor. He was arrayed in sacerdotal robes of damask embroidered with gold. A gorgeous tiara was upon his brow; and he wore bracelets and a necklace incrusted with priceless gems. The city pavements over which he passed were sprinkled with gold-dust. Six milk-white horses, sumptuously caparisoned, drew a chariot containing a black stone, the symbol of the god he worshipped. Elagabalus, as pontiff, held the reins with his back to the horses, that his eyes might not be for a moment turned from the object of his idolatry.