endid
palace in all freedom of high privilege, as of old.

'For my part,' says Ammianus, 'when I see the magnificence in which the
Bishops live in Rome, I am not surprised that those who covet the
dignity should use force and cunning to obtain it. For if they succeed,
they are sure of becoming enormously rich by the gifts of the devout
Roman matrons; they will drive about Rome in their carriages, as they
please, gorgeously dressed, and they will not only keep an abundant
table, but will give banquets so sumptuous as to outdo those of kings
and emperors. They do not see that they could be truly happy if instead
of making the greatness of Rome an excuse for their excesses, they would
live as some of the Bishops of the Provinces do, who are sparing and
frugal, poorly clad and modest, but who make the humility of their
manners and the purity of their lives at once acceptable to their God
and to their fellow worshippers.'

So much Ammianus says. And Saint Jerome tells how Praetextatus, Prefect
of the City, when Pope Damasus tried to convert him, answered with a
laugh, 'I will become a Christian if you will make me Bishop of Rome.'

Yet Damasus, famous for the good Latin and beautiful carving of the many
inscriptions he composed and set up, was undeniably also a good man in
the evil days which foreshadowed the great schism.

[Illustration: SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE]

And here, in the year 366, in the Region of Monti, in the church where
now stands Santa Maria Maggiore, a great and terrible name stands out
for the first time in history. Orsino, Deacon of the Holy Roman Catholic
and Apostolic Church, rouses a party of the people, declares the
election of Damasus invalid, proclaims himself Pope in his stead, and
officiates as Pontiff in the Basilica of Sicininus. Up from the deep
city comes the roaring crowd, furious and hungry for fight; the great
doors are closed and Orsino's followers gather round him as he stands on
the steps of the altar; but they are few, and those for Damasus are
many; down go the doors, burst inward with battering-rams, up shoot the
flames to the roof, and the short, wild fray lasts while one may count
five score, and is over. Orsino and a hundred and thirty-six of his men
lie dead on the pavement, the fire licks the rafters, the crowd press
outward, and the great roof falls crashing down into wide pools of
blood. And after that Damasus reigns eighteen years in peace and
splendour. No one knows whether t