execution at another time, and among these I found, as I went sadly toward the cell of Gracchus, was the father of Fausta.

The keeper of the prison admitted me with a more cheerful air than before, and with a significant shake of the head. I heeded him but little, pressing on to meet Gracchus.

'So,' I exclaimed, 'it is not to-day'—

'No,' rejoined Gracchus, visibly moved, nor tomorrow, Piso. Read here.' And placing a parchment in my hand, turned away.

It contained a full and free remission of punishment, and permission to return immediately to Palmyra.

The gods be praised! the gods be praised!' I cried as I embraced him. Is not this better, Gracchus?' 'It is,' said he, with emphasis. It is a great boon, I do not deny it. For Fausta's sake I rejoice-as for myself, all is strictly true which I have said to you. But I forget all now, save Fausta, and her joy and renewed life. Would, O would, that Longinus could have returned to Palmyra with me!'-and then, for the first time, Gracchus gave way to grief, and wept aloud.

In the morning we set out for Palmyra. Farewell.

237

LETTER XVII.

rite again from Palmyra.

arrived here after a day's nard travel. The ion occasioned by the unexpected return of hus seemed to cause a temporary forgetfulness r calamities on the part of the citizens. As we d the city at the close of the day, and they resed their venerated friend, there were no bounds tumultuous expressions of their joy. The whole ras abroad. It were hard to say whether Fausta If was more pained by excess of pleasure, than each citizen who thronged the streets as we made riumphal entry.

general amnesty of the past having been proed by Sandarion immediately after the departure urelian with the prisoners whom he chose to t, we found Calpurnius already returned. At sta's side he received us as we dismounted in the ce-yard. I need not tell you how we passed our evening. Yet it was one of very mixed enjoyt. Fausta's eye, as it dwelt upon the beloved 1 of her father, seemed to express unalloyed hapss. But then again, as it was withdrawn at those

moments when his voice kept not her attention fixed upon himself, she fell back upon the past and the lost, and the shadows of a deep sadness would gather over her. So in truth was it with us all-especially when, at the urgency of the rest, I related to them the interviews I had had with Longinus, and described to them his behaviour in the prison and at the execution.

'I think,' said Fausta, ' that Aurelian, in the death of Longinus, has injured his fame far more than by the capture of Zenobia and the reduction of Palmyra he has added to it. Posterity will not readily forgive him for putting out, in its meridian blaze, the very brightest light of the age. It surely was an unnecessary act.'

The destruction of prisoners, especially those of rank and influence, is,' said I, according to the savage usages of war-and Aurelian defends the death of Longinus by saying, that in becoming the first adviser of Zenobia he was no longer Longinus the philosopher, but Longinus the minister and rebel.'

That will be held,' she replied, as a poor piece of sophistry. He was still Longinus. And in killing Longinus the minister, he basely slew Longinus the renowned philosopher, the accomplished scholar, the man of letters and of taste; the great man of the age; for you will not say that either in Rome or Greece there now lives his equal.'

'Fausta,' said Gracchus, you are right. And had Aurelian been any more or higher than a soldier, he would not have dared to encounter the odium of the act; but in simple truth he was, suppose, and is utterly insensible to the crime he has committed, not against an individual or Palmyra, but against the

world and posterity; a crime that will grow agnitude as time rolls on, and will for ever he remotest times blast the fame and the him who did it. Longinus belonged to all id people, and by them will be avenged. could not understand the greatness of his nd was ignorant that he was drawing upon reproach greater than if he had sacrificed in the Queen herself, and half the inhabitants yra. He will find it out when he reaches He will find himself as notorious there as derer of Longinus, as he will be as conqueror Cast.'

re was one sentiment of Aurelian,' I said, he expressed to me when I urged upon him ing of Longinus, to which you must allow some ss to attach. I had said to him that it was to pardon than to punish, and that for that "Ah," he replied, interrupting me, "I may in to myself the fame of magnanimity at the e of Rome. As the chief enemy of Rome in bellion, Rome requires his punishment, and is the party to be satisfied, not I."'

rant that there is greatness in the sentiment, was sincere, all we can say is this-that he ged in supposing Rome to need the sacrifice. eeded it not. There were enough heads like of less worth, that would do for the soldiersey are Rome in Aurelian's vocabulary. en of humanity and of letters,' I replied,' will, ose, decide upon this question one way, poli3 and soldiers another.'

hat, I believe, rejoined Gracchus, 'is nearly the

When wearied by a prolonged conversation, we sought the repose of our pillows; each one of us happier by a large and overflowing measure than but two days before we had ever thought to be again.

The city is to all appearance tranquil and acquiescent under its bitter chastisement. The outward aspect is calm and peaceful. The gates are thrown open, and the merchants and traders are returning to the pursuits of traffic; the gentry and nobles are engaged in refitting and re-embellishing their rifled palaces; and the common people have returned in quiet to the several channels of their industry.

I have made, however, some observations, which lead me to believe that all is not so settled and secure as it seems to be, and that however the greater proportion of the citizens are content to sit down patiently under the rule of their new masters, others are not of their mind. I can perceive that Antiochus, who under the general pardon proclaimed by Sandarion has returned to the city, is the central point of a good deal of interest among a certain class of citizens. He is again at the head of the same licentious and desperate crew as before; a set of men, like himself, large in their resources, lawless in their lives, and daring in the pursuit of whatever object they set before them. To one who knows the men, their habits and manners, it is not difficult to see that they are engaged in other plans than appear upon the surface. Yet are their movements so quietly ordered as to occasion no general observation or remark. Sandarion, ignorant whence danger might be expected to arise, appears not to indulge suspicions of one nor another. Indeed, from the smalluess of the garrison, from the whole manner both of the governor and

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