that he was following the Socratic maxim, "Know thyself!” But he felt that he had never begun to know himself till now. Now all his fond self-love, his perfect self-satisfaction, his false assumption of wisdom and of philosophic fairness, his real weakness and folly, all these appeared before him.

When he thought how long he had held aloof from the One of whom he read, he began to fear that this offended One would now refuse to listen to him. Out of this dread came great

sorrow.

"Oh, that I knew where I might find him!" This became his feeling. Above all else he wished to know him as Helena knew him to go to him, and so gain rest for his soul.

Labeo had his own thoughts, which he kept to himself.

But there came over him a great change, which Cineas could not help seeing. His despair passed away, the stern fixity of his grief relaxed. At last one day he touched upon a subject thus far sacred, and for the first time mentioned the name of his son.

66 Cineas, I know not what you find in that book, but it seems to me like a voice from heaven. Once I could not have felt thus, but I am much changed from my former self.

"Cineas, my friend, my brother," said Labeo, and as he spoke he took the hand of the other, and held it almost convulsively. "Listen to me, and I will tell you what is in my

heart.

"Cineas, do you remember the words which he said to me? Do you remember? Do you recall the time when once I tried to kill myself and I heard the voice of Marcus,

66 6

Father, we will meet again?'

Cineas, those words have never ceased to be sounded in my ears since he left me. 'Father, I will be there first.' Father, we will meet again.'

"It was not only his words, but his voice, with that unutterable fondness that he always expressed when he spoke to me.

heard it in my tent at night, on the march, in the battle, always.

I have heard it in my dreams.

"Oh, my friend and my brother, what is this voice? It is like that divine voice of which Socrates used to speak. It turns me from evil. Will it not lead me to good?

"For when I hear you read that book, I find out what I am. There is sin in me. Will this One of whom you read, and whom Marcus loved, will he look upon one like me?"

Cineas said nothing. Tears fell from his eyes. He pressed the hand of Labeo, and pointed to the book.

“Yes, yes, dear friend. You can tell me nothing. We both

Let us be boys

seek the same One. Let us study it together. again, and sit at the feet of that 'Master' of whom we have been reading there."

Under the influence of these new desires, life became changed. The two friends had an object before them, a search, an aim as high as heaven.

Labeo felt the effects of this. His recovery to health became rapid, and soon he was fully restored.

Then they departed to Ptolemais, and after that to Cæsarea. Here they heard of the astounding events which had occurred at Rome. In their secluded village they had been ignorant of everything.

Nero was dead. Galba was dead. Otho had followed. A fourth was now on the throne-Vitellius.

The war in Judea was suspended, for the soldiers had before them other aims. They were not willing that the empire of the world should be tossed backward and forward from one general to another by the armies of the West. They thought that the armies of the East should have something to say.

On Cineas' arrival, he found that some months previously an order had come for his arrest. The arrest had not been made, partly on account of his retired position, and partly on account

of Nero's death. Yet Cineas on no account wished to have this impending over him. He therefore sought an interview with Vespasian, and asked his interference. This Vespasian at once granted, and took it upon himself to destroy the imperial

warrant.

Vespasian himself was soon to issue imperial warrants. The army saw in him the fittest claimant to the throne of the world. The great general turned from Judea to Rome, and after securing his affairs in the East, he sailed to Italy. There a short time only intervened between his arrival and his attainment of imperial power.

Meantime, Cineas and Labeo waited in Cæsarea.

XXXVIII.

The Fall of Jerusalem.

T last Vespasian was secure on the throne of the world. The Roman armies had leisure to renew

their conquests in all directions, and Titus hastened to make an end of the war in Judea.

Jerusalem was the grand point of attack. All the struggle centred around this. All other strongholds had been captured, or rendered useless; but there yet remained the greatest stronghold of all, mighty by situation, but to the Jews mightier still from the favour of the Most High.

Backward and still backward the Jewish armies had been driven, till at last they had all sought the common centre. But Jerusalem had to receive many others, who came and demanded admittance. The solemn festival of the Passover arrived, and the tribes came up to celebrate it. Multitudes thronged there, not terrified by the danger of the time, and not thinking of evil. They came to follow the customs of their ancestors, and commemorate the deliverance from Egypt. More than two millions of people filled the narrow streets of the Holy City, and crowded themselves within its walls, living in huts or in temporary shelters, and expecting in a few days to return to their homes. But to these people, thus crowded together, there came the news of the advance of the Romans. At first they were afraid

to leave, for fear of the enemy; at last they could not leave, for the enemy stood before their eyes.

The enemy long dreaded appeared at last. There, on that side of the city where the ground was less precipitous, where Bezetha lay, the Roman armies prepared to make their camp.

If Jerusalem had been as it once was, with order and law supreme, then it might have baffled even the genius of Titus, and the armies of Rome. But order and law had long since departed. In the fury of popular excitement all government had become impossible, the city became a prey to madness and fanaticism. Anarchy ruled supreme, the most venerable offices were trampled in the dust, and the time-honoured dignity of High Priest had been bestowed by an unruly mob upon an ignorant rustic. The Romans had been driven from the city, but in their place there came those who were far worse than the Romans-men who sought to make use of the miseries of their country for their own advancement, and filled the city with the carnage of civil war when the enemy was at their gates.

Jerusalem had more than the Romans to encounter. It fought with its own self.

Within the walls were three rival camps, and three hostile armies. Eleazer held the temple, John the upper city, and Simon the lower. These three fought incessantly among themselves, with a persevering valour and an obstinate ferocity that might have secured triumph to the nation, if they had been directed against the common enemy.

Incessant war was waged between these three leaders and their followers. No plan of defence against the Romans was possible. The city was the prey of these contending factions. The wretched people had to suffer from the violence of these miscreants. The contending parties, in their fury, thought of nothing and spared nothing. Their madness reached its height when in some of their contests the storehouses where the supplies of grain were kept caught fire, and the hope of sustenance for Jerusalem perished in that flame.

It was to such a place as this that Isaac came, after Cineas