was an apartment contrived and built by
Hortensius himself.

The dinner was worthy the room and its builder, the marbles, the
prospect, the guest, the host, and the hostess. The aforementioned
Apicius would have never once thought of the panelled cupboards. No dish
would have admitted of addition or alteration.

When the feasting was over, and with it the lighter conversation, and
more disjointed and various, which usually accompanies it, Marcus arose,
and withdrawing one of the sliding panels, with much gravity and state,
drew forth a glass pitcher of exquisite form filled with wine, saying,
as he did so,

'All, Piso, that you have as yet tasted is but as water of the Tiber to
this. This is more than nectar. The gods have never been so happy as to
have seen the like. I am their envy. It is Falernian, that once saw the
wine vaults of Heliogabalus! Not a drop of Chian has ever touched it. It
is pure, unadulterate. Taste, and be translated.'

I acknowledged, as I well might, its unequalled flavor.

'This nectarean draught,' he continued, 'I even consider to possess
purifying and exalting qualities. He who drinks it is for the time of a
higher nature. It is better for the temper than a chapter of Seneca or
Epictetus. It brings upon the soul a certain divine calm, favorable
beyond any other state to the growth of the virtues. Could it become of
universal use, mankind were soon a race of gods. Even Christianity were
then made unnecessary--admitting it to be that unrivalled moral engine
which you Christians affirm it to be. It is favorable also to
dispassionate discussion, Piso, a little of which I would now invite.
Know you not, I have scarce seen you since your assumption of your new
name and faith? What bad demon possessed you, in evil hour, to throw
Rome and your friends into such a ferment?'

'Had you become, Lucius,' said Lucilia, 'a declaiming advocate of
Epicurus, or a street-lecturer upon Plato, or turned priest of Apollo's
new temple, it would have all been quite tolerable, though amazing--but
Christian!'--

'Yes, Lucius, it is too bad,' added Marcus. 'If you were in want of
moral strength, you would have done better to have begged some of my
Falernian. You should not have been denied.'

'Or,' said Lucilia,'some of my Smyrna cordial.'

'At least,' continued Marcus, 'you might have come to me for some of my
wisdom, which I keep ready, at a moment's warning, in quantities to suit
all applicants.'

'Or to