by one of the family of Cicero, perhaps by the orator himself) imparted a dignified and venerable feature to a scene otherwise more brilliant than lofty in its character.  That temple was one of the most graceful specimens of Roman architecture.  It was raised on a somewhat lofty podium; and between two flights of steps ascending to a platform stood the altar of the goddess.  From this platform another flight of broad stairs led to the portico, from the height of whose fluted columns hung festoons of the richest flowers.  On either side the extremities of the temple were placed statues of Grecian workmanship; and at a little distance from the temple rose the triumphal arch crowned with an equestrian statue of Caligula, which was flanked by trophies of bronze.  In the space before the temple a lively throng were assembled—­some seated on benches and discussing the politics of the empire, some conversing on the approaching spectacle of the amphitheatre.  One knot of young men were lauding a new beauty, another discussing the merits of the last play; a third group, more stricken in age, were speculating on the chance of the trade with Alexandria, and amidst these were many merchants in the Eastern costume, whose loose and peculiar robes, painted and gemmed slippers, and composed and serious countenances, formed a striking contrast to the tunicked forms and animated gestures of the Italians.  For that impatient and lively people had, as now, a language distinct from speech—­a language of signs and motions, inexpressibly significant and vivacious:  their descendants retain it, and the learned Jorio hath written a most entertaining work upon that species of hieroglyphical gesticulation.

Sauntering through the crowd, Glaucus soon found himself amidst a group of his merry and dissipated friends.

‘Ah!’ said Sallust, ‘it is a lustrum since I saw you.’

’And how have you spent the lustrum?  What new dishes have you discovered?’

‘I have been scientific,’ returned Sallust, ’and have made some experiments in the feeding of lampreys:  I confess I despair of bringing them to the perfection which our Roman ancestors attained.’

‘Miserable man! and why?’

‘Because,’ returned Sallust, with a sigh, ’it is no longer lawful to give them a slave to eat.  I am very often tempted to make away with a very fat carptor (butler) whom I possess, and pop him slily into the reservoir.  He would give the fish a most oleaginous flavor!  But slaves are not slaves nowadays, and have no sympathy with their masters’ interest—­or Davus would destroy himself to oblige me!’

‘What news from Rome?’ said Lepidus, as he languidly joined the group.

‘The emperor has been giving a splendid supper to the senators,’ answered Sallust.

‘He is a good creature,’ quoth Lepidus; ’they say he never sends a man away without granting his request.’

‘Perhaps he would let me kill a slave for my reservoir?’ returned Sallust, eagerly.