gospel to Alexandria, the idol's throne began to totter, and the tidings
of salvation shook its foundations and brought it to the verge of
destruction in spite of the persecutions, in spite of the edicts of the
apostate Julian, in spite of the desperate efforts of the philosophers,
sophists, and heathen--for our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, has given
certainty and actuality to the fleeting shadow of half-divined truth
which lies in the core of the worship of Serapis. The pure and radiant
star of Christian love has risen in the place of the dim nebulous mist
of Serapis; and just as the moon pales when the sun appears triumphant,
the worship of Serapis has died away in a thousand places where the
gospel has been received. Even here, in Alexandria, its feeble flame
is kept alive only by infinite care, and if the might of our pious and
Christian Emperor makes itself felt-tomorrow, or next day--then, my
beloved, it will vanish in smoke, and no power on earth can fan it
into life again. Not our grandsons, no, but our own children will ask:
Who--what was Serapis? For he who shall be overthrown is no longer a
mighty god but an idol bereft of his splendor and his dignity. This is
no struggle of might against might; it is the death-stroke given to a
wounded and vanquished foe. The tree is rotten to the core and can crush
no one in its fall, but it will cover all who stand near it with dust
and rubbish. The sovereign has outlived his dominion, and when his
fingers drop the sceptre few indeed will bewail him, for the new King
has already mounted the throne and His is the Kingdom, and the power,
and the glory, forever! Amen."

Dada had listened to the deacon's address with no particular interest,
but the conclusion struck her attention. The old man looked dignified
and honest; but Father Karnis was a well-meaning man, no doubt, and one
of those who are wont to keep on the winning side. How was it that the
preacher could draw so pitiable a picture of the very same god whose
greatness her uncle had praised in such glowing terms only two days
since? How could the same thing appear so totally different to two
different people?

The priest looked more sagacious than the musician; Marcus, the young
Christian, had a most kind heart; there was not a better or gentler
creature under the sun than Agne--it was quite possible that
Christianity was something very different in reality from what her
foster parents chose to represent. As to the