when Christianity was new. This record shows the worth of
consecrated life and service in the days when the luxurious Roman
state most needed a Christian citizenship. But the lesson is none
the less for these last days, when the hope of the world is in the
creed of Quintus.

* * * * *

By the side of Quintus is his fellow soldier Aulus. They had spent
their boyhood together among the scenes of Rome; now they are
companions still, on this last Roman expedition to the district of
Judaea. While the common soldiery are throwing their dice in
the camp thoroughfare, these are speaking of more serious things.
The picture on which they look from lofty Scopus includes the
shining roofs of Jerusalem, the wooded Mount of Olives, and the far
landscape to the south and west; its undulations and brilliant
colorings no Roman artist might put upon the canvas.

With the autumn haze covering the extended panorama, Quintus says
first to his comrade:

"What the fates have in store for me, here in the city of
Hierosolyma, I am much wondering. The day before our trireme
sailed from Brundisium for Tyrus I made a visit to the augur's
tent. His prediction was that my journey hither would be followed
by strange consequences. The flight of the birds through the air
did not reveal to him just what was to occur; but that something
eventful was to take place he was very sure. What is to be my
fortune?"

"Your lot it may be," answers Aulus, "to perform some daring deed,
here in our Jewish campaign; and on your return to Rome you may
receive a great reward from the hand of Tiberius."

"In my mind this has been," replies Quintus; "before I left Rome I
had an audience with our divine Caesar, and he was pleased to say
that my fidelity here might bring me special recompense. Yet would
that be satisfying? I have seen the triumphal processions in the
streets of Rome, when heroes have been acclaimed; I have heard our
statesmen in the Senate hall, and prize the joys of oratory; I have
been served all my days by slaves in my father's palace, and know
the sweetness of the Falernian wine in the banquet room. A
proconsulate, if I might come to that dignity, would be a high
honor to write in my life story. But, my dear Aulus, would there
be content in this? My restless soul seems crying out for some
better gift from the gods."

"It cannot be," continues Aulus. "that your heart's love is
involved. When our militar