th it came into my mind to ask why we were running? One
near me replied,

'O, it's only Macer the Christian, who, 'tis said, in spite of the
edict, has just made for the steps of the capitol, followed by a large
crowd.'

On the instant I outstripped my companion, and turning quickly the
corner, where the street in which I was crossed the hill, I there beheld
an immense multitude gathered around the steps of the capitol, and the
tall form of Macer just ascending them. Resolved to be near him, I
struggled and forced my way into the mass till I found myself so far
advanced that I could both hear and be heard by him, if I should find
occasion to speak, and see the expression of his countenance. It was to
me, as he turned round toward the people, the most extraordinary
countenance I ever beheld. It seemed as if once it had been fiercer than
the fiercest beast of the forest, while through that was now to be
discerned the deep traces of grief, and an expression which seemed to
say, "I and the world have parted company. I dwell above." His two lives
and his two characters were to be read at once in the strong and
deep-sunk lines of a face that struck the beholder at once with awe,
with admiration, and compassion.

The crowd was restless and noisy; heaving to and fro like the fiery mass
of a boiling crater. A thousand exclamations and imprecations filled the
air. I thought it doubtful whether the rage which seemed to fill a great
proportion of those around me would so much as permit the Christian to
open his mouth. It seemed rather as if he would at once be dragged from
where he stood to the Prefect's tribunal, or hurled from the steps and
sacrificed at once to the fury of the populace. But, as the cries of his
savage enemies multiplied, the voices of another multitude were lifted
up in his behalf, which were so numerous and loud, that they had the
effect of putting a restraint upon the others. It was evident that Macer
could not be assailed without leading to a general combat. All this
while Macer stood unmoved, and calm as the columns of the capitol
itself--waiting till the debate should be ended and the question
decided--a question of life or death to him. Upon the column
immediately on his right hand hung, emblazoned with gold, and beautiful
with all the art of the chirographer, the edict of Aurelian. It was upon
parchment, within a brazen frame.

Soon as quiet was restored, so that any single voice could be heard, one