Chapter 1 - Page 2

plebeian feared alike the
assessor and the gods, and sacrificed to both.

It is no wonder the gods were falling when even Jupiter had been
outdone by a modest man who dwelt on the Palatine. One might have seen
him there any day--a rather delicate figure with shiny blue eyes and
hair now turning gray. He flung his lightning with unerring aim across
the great purple sea into Arabia, Africa, and Spain, and northward to
the German Ocean and eastward to the land of the Goths. The genius of
this remarkable man had outdone the imagination of priest and poet. A
genius for organization, like that of his illustrious uncle, gave to
Augustus a power greater than human hands had yet wielded.

A bit of gossip had travelled far and excited his curiosity. It spoke
of a new king, with power above that of men, who was to conquer the
world. Sayings of certain learned men came out of Judea into the land
of lost hope. They told of the king of promise--that he would bring to
men the gift of immortal life, that the heavens would declare his
authority. Superstitious to the blood and bone, not a few were
thrilled by the message.

The minds of thinking men were sad, fearful, and beset with curiosity.
"If there be no gods," they were wont to ask, "have we any hope and
responsibility?" They studied the philosophers Plato, Aristotle, Zeno,
Epicurus, and were unsatisfied.

The nations were at peace, but not the souls of men. A universal and
mighty war of the spirit was near at hand. The skirmishers were
busy--patrician and plebeian, master and slave, oppressor and
oppressed. Soon all were to see the line of battle, the immortal
captains, the children of darkness, the children of light, the
beginning of a great revolution.

Rome was like a weary child whose toys are gods and men, and who, being
weary of them, has yet a curiosity in their destruction.