Chapter 1
_ Rome had passed the summits and stood looking into the dark valley of fourteen hundred years. Behind her the graves of Caesar and Sallust and Cicero and Catullus and Vergil and Horace； before her centuries of madness and treading down； round about her a multitude sickening of luxury, their houses filled with spoil, their mouths with folly, their souls with discontent； above her only mystery and silence； in her train, philosophers questioning if it were not better for a man had he never been born--deeming life a misfortune and extinction the only happiness； poets singing no more of "pleasantries and trifles," but seeking favor with poor obscenities. Soon they were even to celebrate the virtue of harlots, the integrity of thieves, the tenderness of murderers, the justice of oppression. Leading the caravan were types abhorrent and self-opposed--effeminate men, masculine women, cheerful cynics, infidel priests, wealthy people with no credit, patricians, honoring and y

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