out.

It was not moral cowardice on his part that led him to continue his attendance in Court. When the proper occasion might demand, Cineas could show as much courage as any one. But if he now showed in any way any disapprobation of Nero's proceedings, he could effect nothing. He would simply involve himself in ruin, and naturally enough he did not wish to court danger. In the first place, he considered himself. He had a great purpose in life, and he wished calmly to carry that He did not wish to rush headlong into imprisonment, or banishment, or death. He could endure all these if he saw duty compelling him, but his duty here seemed to be to carry out his search after truth. He wished to be a philosopher. But if he himself only had been concerned, he would undoubtedly, in his first fierce indignation, have left the Court and taken the consequences. He loathed the man who sat on the throne of the world, and it was only by an effort that he could preserve his old demeanour when in his presence. He loathed the sycophants who filled the Court, and were ready to commit any crime so as to secure the favour of the emperor. But he had to consider others beside himself. His sister and Labeo and Marcus all were with him, and if he fell into disgrace, they would share it. The hopes and the prospects of Labeo, now so fair, would receive a fatal shock, and the labour of years would be brought to naught. Yet this was not all. A decline in favour, a palpable disgrace, would only be the signal for ruin to them all. Tigellinus stood ready to assail them whenever the chance offered itself. With his crowds of hirelings he could make any charge which he pleased against them, and confirm it by false witnesses. To fall into disfavour with Nero, would be to involve himself and all his friends in one general calamity.

With all these considerations to influence him, Cineas was compelled as long as he remained in Rome to frequent the Court as before. Yet he did it with a burdened mind. The

crime that was enthroned there was too open and too gross. He loathed the society into which he found himself forced to go.

Labeo, on the other hand, knew nothing of the distress of mind which actuated Cineas. His feelings about the crimes of Nero were those of utter abhorrence. But he considered that

it was not his business to say a word. His military training had brought him all his life in contact with men who committed the most villanous crimes before his very eyes. These things which Nero had done did not shock him so much as Cineas. Familiarity had hardened him.

He was ambi

His great object in life was advancement. tious; but it was a noble ambition, mingled with love for his son, and fond thoughts of future honours for him. He laboured, and the motive of that labour was that he might leave a great name and a great estate to Marcus. In the effort to acquire this he would never descend to the meannesses which were so common in his day. His soul was incapable of anything dishonourable. He was glad of the opportunity of being present at Court, and hoped that it might lead to some high and dignified office.

After all, the position of these two was not so painful as might be supposed. This arose from the peculiar character of Nero. In all his debaucheries and excesses he never once asked them to take a part. In fact, he did not even expect it. He looked upon both in a peculiar light.

With Cineas he never conversed, except on such subjects as art, literature, and philosophy. The splendid attainments of the Athenian in all these things charmed him. He would not consider him in any other light. He called him his poet, or his philosopher. He separated the world of his amusements altogether from the world of intellectual pursuits; and had no more idea of asking Cineas to share his pleasures than of asking Seneca. Nero loved to affect the philosophical tone, to quote Plato, to discuss such subjects as the immortality of the

soul, the summum bonum, and other great questions which were common among philosophers. He also loved to talk of the science of metres, to unfold his own theories on the subject, and suggest new improvements in the structure of verse. Nero believed most implicitly in himself. He thought that he was a kind of universal patron of letters, and it gave him more pleasure to consider himself in this light, than to regard himself as the master of the world. In these discussions on the immortality of the soul, or on the Greek games, or on the power of varying metres, he never made the remotest allusion, by any chance, to the events of the time. Agrippina and Octavia were forgotten. He lived in the past. heroes, or the gods of that past, formed the only subjects which he noticed. In him the dilettante spirit reached the most extraordinary development which it has ever gained.

The poets, the

As he regarded Cineas, so did he look on I.abeo. But Labeo stood before him in a very different character. The former was his philosopher or poet. The latter was his ideal of the Roman. His taste was gratified by the splendid physical development of Labeo, and none the less, strange though it appear, by his incorruptible integrity, his high-souled virtue, and his lofty moral instincts. Nero called him sometimes "Hercules," but afterwards preferred to name him "Cato." The virtue of Labeo gratified him in precisely the same way in which a well-executed statue did. In both cases it was simply a matter of taste. He had a strong perception of the fitness of things. It would have shocked him if Labeo had in any one instance shown a tendency toward ordinary folly or frailty. It would have marred his ideal. It would have been such excessive bad taste in Labeo, that he could never have forgiven it nor forgotten it. And so, to this strange being, the very excesses which he urged upon others, and practised himself, would have appeared an unpardonable offence if they had been practised either by Cineas or Labeo. To some it would have

been death to refrain; to these it would have been death to

indulge.

Such was Nero.

Now, if Cineas had been truly wise, he would have turned from this Court and its associations, to one who could have told him far more than ever he had learned, either from "The Master," or from Isaac, or any other with whom he had ever been brought into connection.

Paul had been presented to his mind as a man of very remarkable character, and Cineas had frequently felt desirous of an interview with him, yet he had never yet sought one.

There were various reasons for this, among which the strongest was perhaps his Grecian pride. He did not see in its full grandeur the character of the great apostle. He looked upon him as a brave man, and perhaps, in some things, a great man; but in his heart of hearts he depreciated him as a Jew. He did not wish to learn anything from such a man. If he had been an associate with Seneca, or if he had seen him moving among the great ones of Rome, he might perhaps have sought an interview. As it was, he never made an effort.

Yet Cineas had leanings towards this new religion, of which he had already seen such beautiful and touching manifestations. He desired to learn even more of it. He thought that he had already learned all that the writings of the Christians could teach him, but still felt some desire to see more of the Christians themselves.

66

XV.

The Centurion.

FTER they had been in Rome a few weeks, Julius came to see Cineas. In the course of conversation

he asked the latter if he felt willing to go to one of the meetings of the Christians.

'They hold their regular meetings," said he, "on the first day of their week. They follow the Jewish fashion of dividing time into portions of seven days each, and they take one day out of the seven for rest from worldly cares, just as the Jews do with their Sabbath. They do no work or business of any kind on that day, but consider it sacred. They meet on the morning of the first day of their week for religious services, and they have chosen that day because they believe that on that day their Divinity, Christ, rose from the dead after he was crucified."

"Have you been to any of these meetings?" asked Cineas. "Yes; to several. The Christians make this their chief meeting. They have a fashion of eating bread and drinking wine together, because their Master instituted this, and directed them always to do it in remembrance of him. They attach to it a certain solemn and mystic signification, and think that their meeting on that day is holier than any other. But they also have meetings at night, and this night is one which they have appointed for this purpose."

Cineas was glad of the opportunity, and said as much. He wished to see these Christians by themselves, so as to learn