hers with tales of "their amours or their
exploits, like grasshoppers that show their vigour only by their
chirping."(3) The very allegories which sickened and irritated Arnobius
when spouted out by Polemo, touched the very chords of poor Agellius's
heart when breathed forth from the lips of the beautiful Greek.

She could act also; and suddenly, when conversation flagged or suggested
it, she could throw herself into the part of Medea or Antigone, with a
force and truth which far surpassed the effect produced by the male and
masked representations of those characters at the theatre. Brother and
sister were OEdipus and Antigone, Electra and Orestes, Cassandra and the
Chorus. Once or twice they attempted a scene in Menander; but there was
something which made Agellius shrink from the comedy, beautiful as it was,
and clever as was the representation. Callista could act Thais as truly as
Iphigenia, but Agellius could not listen as composedly. There are certain
most delicate instincts and perceptions in us which act as first
principles, and which, once effaced, can never, except from some
supernatural source, be restored to the mind. When men are in a state of
nature, these are sinned against, and vanish very soon, at so early a date
in the history of the individual that perhaps he does not recollect that
he ever possessed them; and since, like other first principles, they are
but very partially capable of proof, a general scepticism prevails both as
to their existence and their truth. The Greeks, partly from the vivacity
of their intellect, partly from their passion for the beautiful, lost
these celestial adumbrations sooner than other nations. When a collision
arose on such matters between Agellius and his friends, Callista kept
silence; but Aristo was not slow to express his wonder that the young
Christian should think customs or practices wrong which, in his view of
the matter, were as unblamable and natural as eating, drinking, or
sleeping. His own face became almost satirical as Agellius's became grave;
however, he was too companionable and good-natured to force another to be
happy in his own way; he imputed to the extravagance of his friend's
religion what in any but a Christian he would have called moroseness and
misanthropy; and he bade his sister give over representations which,
instead of enlivening the passing hour, did but inflict pain.

This friendly intercourse had now gone on for some months, as the leisure
o