shrubberies of the Palatine discoursing on the great Greek schools of Ionia, of Athens, and of Elea; of Democrites, of Plato, Zeno and Pythagoras and his favourite Epictetus. In his home, as in public, he was devoted to the old religious practices. The _lararium_--or family shrine--contained statues of his favourite gods, one of his own _Genius_ (or spiritual counterpart) and those of his favourite philosophers and teachers. Here he would offer the morning sacrifice with flowers and lights and incense, and beg the favour of the gods for himself and for the Empire. There he would utter a prayer for the wayward Commodus and Faustina, and for the courage to persevere to the end on his own steep path. “Every morning I pray for Faustina,” he writes; and again: “My mother’s illness leaves me not a moment’s rest; and now Faustina’s confinement is approaching. Well, we must trust in the gods.” In all this, how strange the mixture of truth and falsehood; of crude superstition and a higher light breaking through; of matter and spirit; perhaps even of nature and grace; for it is hard not to see the special handiwork of God in these fair works of the spirit world--who will set limits to His mercy and power? or who will nicely disentangle the strands of that strange mesh-work, a human soul? St. Clement of Alexandria and St. Augustine saw in those pagan heroes those who were to prepare the way of the Lord and make straight His paths. “Paganism saw at least the road from its hill-top,” said Augustine. We too may say that they were not far from the Kingdom of God. Christo iam tum venienti, Crede, parata via est. “Believe me even then the path was made straight for Christ already on His way.” So sang the Christian Prudentius; and we sing, Amen! Even so, Lord Jesus. CHAPTER V ON THE DANUBE A prince of peace, Marcus Aurelius was destined by the irony of fate to live most of his days as a leader of battles. The low rumbling of war from the provinces mingled discordantly with the acclamations which proclaimed him Princeps, Rome’s chief citizen and lord. The disturbances in Britain and on the Rhine were easily quelled; but not so in Parthia or on the Danube. Parthia was Rome’s great rival in the old world. More than once had the captains of that mysterious Eastern kingdom plucked the laurels from Roman brows; the Roman eagle had brooded in captivity in Parthian dungeons; and had been released not by steel but by gold. On the succession of Marcus, King Vologeses, a man with all the spirit and ambition of his race, determined to secure for himself the neighbouring kingdom of Armenia. The Romans resisted and their first army was annihilated. This defeat was quickly followed by another; the Eastern legions were demoralised, and things looked grave for Rome.