s
the vaulted heaven, clothing its foliage with the morning mist as with a
garment; winged the great eagle which gazes on the sun, and made him a
home amongst the rocks on yonder mountain-side; painted the petals of
the rose which scatters perfume on the languid air--He who rolls the
waves towards the shore, breaking eternally by His decree; the God who
made the loveliest form in which a soul ere robed itself; fills the
fruitful earth with food for men--judge Him, I say, by His works, as I
have judged thee by thine. Are not His acts benevolent--are they not
proofs of love? Thy acts are feeble attempts, and so are mine--little
imitations, the outcome of His breath within us. His are boundless,
eternal, and show forth His guardian care for all His creatures.'

'I never looked at the matter in this way,' replied Chios. 'Thou seemest
right. There must be a great First Cause behind all this, and it does
appear His motive is unselfish.'

'In that thou sayest truly, for God is love.'

'What! So have the gods and goddesses of Greece that passion; and, if
our traditions be correct, they loved too well, and made fools of
themselves.'

'Again, Chios, thou art wise. I say thou art also true; but the loves of
the Grecian gods is not the love of my God. The traditions of your
Ionian faith are lies. There are no gods but One. The passions imputed
to them are but reflections of that which is impure in man. That which
dwells in the bosom of the Infinite is purer than the river at its
source, rising into light through the fissures of the rock. The best of
man's love is selfish, and we exchange love for love. Men do not bestow
their affections on those who hate them, but the Eternal One loves all
with an amplitude beyond comprehension. "For God so loved the world that
He gave His only begotten Son, that we might have life eternal."'

'What dost thou mean by life eternal?'

'This: that thy life may spread out into the great future, and the
spirit be young when the stars grow dim and the sun be dead, and
knowledge accumulate higher and deeper, joy broaden out as the aeons on
aeons pass slowly behind thee, gathering in number like sands on the
sea-shore; but never a shadow of death will lay on thee--never thy years
will cease to be numberless. Thou wilt begin it, never wilt end it--end
there is none.'

'Thou art mighty in thy thoughts. I would know more of thee.'

'Nay, it matters not to thee what of myself. My purpose will be serve