rth,
great and small, obeys eternal laws and unerringly tends to certain
preordained ends and issues, you may and must infer the existence of a
ruling hand. Whose then but that of the Great Pilot of the universe--the
Almighty Godhead.--Do you like my illustration?"

"Very much. But it only proves what I knew before."

"Nevertheless, you must, I think, be pleased to find it so beautifully
expressed."

"Certainly."

"And must admire the wise man who thought out the comparison. Yes?--Well,
that man again was one of those whom you call heathen, who believed as we
believe, and who at the same time worked out the evidence of the
foundations of his faith for you as well as himself. And we, the later
disciples of Plato--[Known as the school of the Neo-Platonists]--have
gone even further than our master, and in many respects are much nearer
to you Christians than you perhaps suspect. You see at once, of course,
that we are no more inclined than you to conceive of the existence of the
world and the destiny of man as independent of a God? However, I dare say
you still think that your divinity and ours are as far asunder as the
east from the west. But can you tell me where any difference lies?"

"I do not know," said Ague uneasily. "I am only an ignorant girl; and who
can learn the names even of all your gods?"

"Very true," said Olympius. "There is great Serapis, whose temple you saw
yesterday; there is Apollo, to whom Karnis prefers to offer sacrifice;
there is Isis the bountiful, and her sister Nephthys, whose lament you
and my young friend sing together so thrillingly; and besides these there
are more immortals than I could name while Gorgo--who is leading your
little brother to the lake out there--walked ten times from the shore to
us and back; and yet--and yet my child, your God is ours and ours is
yours."

"No, no, He is not, indeed!" cried Agne with increasing alarm.

"But listen," Olympius went on, with the same kind urgency but with
extreme dignity, "and answer my questions simply and honestly. We are
agreed, are we not?--that we perceive the divinity in the works of his
creation, and even in his workings in our own souls. Then which are the
phenomena of nature in which you discern Him as especially near to you?
You are silent. I see, you have outlived your school-days and do not
choose to answer to an uninvited catechism. And yet the things I wish you
to name are lovely in themselves and dear to your heart; and