He was alluding to the revolt of Africa, which led to the downfall of the tyrant Maximin and the exaltation of the Gordians, when the native landlords armed their peasantry, killed the imperial officer, and raised the standard of rebellion in the neighbouring town from impatience of exactions under which they suffered.

“No offence, I say, Cornelius, no offence to eternal Rome,” said Aristo, “but you have explained to us why you weigh so heavy on us. I’ve always heard it was a fortune at Rome for a man to have found out a new tax. Vespasian did his best; but now you tax our smoke, and our very shadow; and Pescennius threatened to tax the air we breathe. We’ll play at riddles, and you shall solve the following:—Say who is she that eats her own limbs, and grows eternal upon them? Ah, the Goths will take the measure of her eternity!”

“The Goths!” said Jucundus, who was warming into conversational life, “the Goths! no fear of the Goths; but,” and he nodded significantly, “look at home; we have more to fear indoors than abroad.”

“He means the prætorians,” said Cornelius to Aristo, condescendingly; “I grant you that there have been several untoward affairs; we have had our problem, but it’s a thing of the past, it never can come again. I venture to say that the power of the prætorians is at an end. That murder of the two emperors the other day was the worst job they ever did; it has turned the public opinion of the whole world against them. I have no fear of the prætorians.”

“I don’t mean prætorians more than Goths,” said Jucundus; “no, give me the old weapons, the old maxims of Rome, and I defy the scythe of Saturn. Do the soldiers march under the old ensign? do they swear by the old gods? do they interchange the good old signals and watchwords? do they worship the fortune of Rome; then I say we are safe. But do we take to new ways? do we trifle with religion? do we make light of Jupiter, Mars, Romulus, the augurs, and the ancilia? then I say, not all our shows and games, our elephants, hyænas, and hippopotamuses, will do us any good. It was not the best thing, no, not the best thing that the soldiers did, when they invested that Philip with the purple. But he is dead and gone.” And he sat up and leant on his elbow.

“Ah! but it will be all set right now,” said Cornelius, “you’ll see.”

“He’d be a reformer, that Philip,” continued Jucundus, “and put down an enormity. Well, they call it an enormity; let it be an enormity. He’d put it down; but why? there’s the point; why? It’s no secret at all,” and his voice grew angry, “that that hoary-headed Atheist Fabian was at the bottom of it; Fabian, the Christian. I hate reforms.”