he
resources of Maxentius, both of men and money, were still considerable.
The Praetorian guards felt how strongly their own interest and safety
were connected with his cause; and a third army was soon collected,
more numerous than those which had been lost in the battles of Turin and
Verona. It was far from the intention of the emperor to lead his troops
in person. A stranger to the exercises of war, he trembled at the
apprehension of so dangerous a contest; and as fear is commonly
superstitious, he listened with melancholy attention to the rumors of
omens and presages which seemed to menace his life and empire. Shame at
length supplied the place of courage, and forced him to take the field.
He was unable to sustain the contempt of the Roman people. The circus
resounded with their indignant clamors, and they tumultuously besieged
the gates of the palace, reproaching the pusillanimity of their indolent
sovereign, and celebrating the heroic spirit of Constantine. Before
Maxentius left Rome, he consulted the Sibylline books. The guardians of
these ancient oracles were as well versed in the arts of this world as
they were ignorant of the secrets of fate; and they returned him a very
prudent answer, which might adapt itself to the event, and secure their
reputation, whatever should be the chance of arms.

The celerity of Constantine's march has been compared to the rapid
conquest of Italy by the first of the Caesars; nor is the flattering
parallel repugnant to the truth of history, since no more than
fifty-eight days elapsed between the surrender of Verona and the final
decision of the war. Constantine had always apprehended that the tyrant
would consult the dictates of fear, and perhaps of prudence; and that,
instead of risking his last hopes in a general engagement, he would shut
himself up within the walls of Rome. His ample magazines secured him
against the danger of famine; and as the situation of Constantine
admitted not of delay, he might have been reduced to the sad necessity
of destroying with fire and sword the Imperial city, the noblest reward
of his victory, and the deliverance of which had been the motive, or
rather indeed the pretence, of the civil war. It was with equal surprise
and pleasure, that on his arrival at a place called Saxa Rubra, about
nine miles from Rome, he discovered the army of Maxentius prepared to
give him battle. Their long front filled a very spacious plain, and
their deep array reached t