walls of the church had kindled. The view from above into the town, which had hitherto been so distinct, that Lucius could discern every step that was taken, was now obscured by volumes of smoke, which, meeting over the roof of the building, rose up thence towards heaven, as though to bear witness against the atrocity of the deed. Lucius looked around him; and as, in the stillness of a clear evening, he saw the vast mass of smoke ascend in a compact column, till, reaching the level of the lofty mountains among which the city was situate, it was gradually dissipated by some currents of air which were moving in the upper sky, he thought, that if there were any truth in what he had heard respecting the interference of superior beings, it must be in the prevention of such a wickedness, thus publicly acted before earth and heaven. He lived afterwards to see the footsteps of God's providence in the signal fate of those to whom these fearful scenes were to be attributed; but for this doomed city there was no earthly relief, nor any present intercessor. The shrieks of the miserable victims, as the fire gradually made its way into the interior of the building, which even the roaring of the flames could not drown, haunted him for weeks to come. A flaw of wind, which opened a passage through the smoky curtains which enveloped the place, shewed him the fate of a few persons who had forced their way through the windows of the building, to perish by the weapons of the surrounding soldiery, or be thrown back by them into the

flames. Lucius had hid his face, when he was recalled by a dull and heavy sound, as the rafters of the roof fell in together. There was one cry of deep but smothered agony, and then all was still, save that a vast gush of fire rose up for a moment with more than its usual intensity. Then came the shout of the victors, as their work of wrath was over, and the human sacrifice complete.1

1 This occurrence is mentioned by two contemporary historians, Eusebius and Lactantius.

"At that time," says the first, "soldiers surrounded a city in Phrygia, and burnt the inhabitants, men, women, and children, while they called upon Christ the supreme God. For the whole inhabitants of the city, the treasurer, and governor, and magistrates, refused to obey those who ordered them to sacrifice to idols." viii. 11.

Lactantius says, that the governor of Phrygia "burnt the people, with their place of assembling.”—Ins. Div. v. 11.

CHAPTER V.

The Flight.

Why rather, Sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,

Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,

And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,

Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,

Under the canopies of costly state,

And lull'd with sounds of sweetest melody?

SHAKESPEARE.

LUCIUS's first step, when he returned to quarters, was to solicit leave of absence, with a view of making a visit to Nicomedia. His purpose was to resign his command, even though he forfeited the favour of Constantine, lest he should be called upon, in the exercise of his duty, to take part in such scenes as he had just witnessed. After two years of absence, therefore, he was once more walking the streets of Nicomedia. It was towards the conclusion of April. When he had ascertained that Constantine was not in the city, but was expected to arrive there the next day, he walked forth to see what changes had taken place since his last visit to the capital. He passed the house of Anthimus and the site of his church. where the very buildings which he remembered had

been succeeded by new edifices—and then proceeded to the square which lay in front of the palace. As he was walking there, he heard his name pronounced, and had the pleasure of greeting his old comrade Gallus. "You find me," said Gallus, "better off in the world than when you went away. I had friends in the palace who more than made up for the loss of my poor master Dorotheus. If you are willing to share my hospitality again, I can make you more comfortable than I did."

"And without the sight either of fire or torture, I hope," said the other.

"Don't speak of such things," said Gallus; "to those who have witnessed what I have, they are too painful to remember."

Lucius readily accepted the invitation, which his old comrade gave in a very friendly manner; and a few minutes found him again in the palace of the Cæsars. The two companions told one another all that had passed since their last meeting. The circumstances in which they had then been placed had given them great confidence in one another; and Lucius did not hesitate to mention why he had come to the capital, and to detail the fearful scenes he had witnessed. Gallus had as painful a story to unfold in the dreadful tortures to which Dorotheus and the other Christian officers of the palace had been subjected. The cruelties which he had witnessed had evidently given him the greatest disgust of Galerius, to whose instrumentality he referred them; and he

looked upon Constantine as the only hope of better things in the imperial family. The prospect of his succession to the crown, if Dioclesian, who had lately been ill, should abandon the sceptre, was discussed between them.

"Dioclesian has always shewn Constantine much favour," said Lucius, "and his father Constantius is the elder of the Cæsars."

"lest

"I have but one fear," replied the other; Galerius, who is present, should have such influence with the emperor as to defeat Constantine's claims. You know how constantly Galerius has sought his destruction. It was, no doubt, with this view that he urged him into that battle with a lion, out of which he got so marvellously."

Lucius now told his friend, what he had never communicated to any one, the part he had himself taken in this transaction, and how it had influenced his fortunes.

"I have a great mind," said Gallus, "to be equally communicative to you. I think I could guess what is going on at this very time in respect to the imperial succession."

Lucius pressed him to communicate what he knew.

"You may remember," said Gallus, "those secret conferences which the emperor had, the winter before the persecution of the Christians began; and if you have not forgotten a certain secret passage which ran by the emperor's apartments, you may know