eir sovereign enter the lists as a gladiator, and
glory in a profession which the laws and manners of the Romans had
branded with the justest note of infamy. He chose the habit and arms
of the Secutor, whose combat with the Retiarius formed one of the most
lively scenes in the bloody sports of the amphitheatre. The Secutor was
armed with a helmet, sword, and buckler; his naked antagonist had only
a large net and a trident; with the one he endeavored to entangle, with
the other to despatch his enemy. If he missed the first throw, he was
obliged to fly from the pursuit of the Secutor, till he had prepared
his net for a second cast. The emperor fought in this character seven
hundred and thirty-five several times. These glorious achievements were
carefully recorded in the public acts of the empire; and that he might
omit no circumstance of infamy, he received from the common fund
of gladiators a stipend so exorbitant that it became a new and most
ignominious tax upon the Roman people. It may be easily supposed, that
in these engagements the master of the world was always successful; in
the amphitheatre, his victories were not often sanguinary; but when he
exercised his skill in the school of gladiators, or his own palace, his
wretched antagonists were frequently honored with a mortal wound from
the hand of Commodus, and obliged to seal their flattery with their
blood. He now disdained the appellation of Hercules. The name of Paulus,
a celebrated Secutor, was the only one which delighted his ear. It
was inscribed on his colossal statues, and repeated in the redoubled
acclamations of the mournful and applauding senate. Claudius Pompeianus,
the virtuous husband of Lucilla, was the only senator who asserted the
honor of his rank. As a father, he permitted his sons to consult their
safety by attending the amphitheatre. As a Roman, he declared, that his
own life was in the emperor's hands, but that he would never behold the
son of Marcus prostituting his person and dignity. Notwithstanding his
manly resolution Pompeianus escaped the resentment of the tyrant, and,
with his honor, had the good fortune to preserve his life.

Commodus had now attained the summit of vice and infamy. Amidst the
acclamations of a flattering court, he was unable to disguise from
himself, that he had deserved the contempt and hatred of every man of
sense and virtue in his empire. His ferocious spirit was irritated by
the consciousness of that hatred, by th