e had been worthy to become a
god. You honour Socrates--he has his sect, his disciples, his schools.
But what are the doubtful virtues of the Athenian, to the bright, the
undisputed, the active, the unceasing, the devoted holiness of Christ?
I speak to you now only of His human character. He came in that as the
pattern of future ages, to show us the form of virtue which Plato
thirsted to see embodied. This was the true sacrifice that He made for
man; but the halo that encircled His dying hour not only brightened
earth, but opened to us the sight of heaven! You are touched--you are
moved. God works in your heart. His Spirit is with you. Come, resist
not the holy impulse; come at once--unhesitatingly. A few of us are now
assembled to expound the word of God. Come, let me guide you to them.
You are sad, you are weary. Listen, then, to the words of God: "Come to
me", saith He, "all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest!"'

'I cannot now,' said Apaecides; 'another time.'

'Now--now!' exclaimed Olinthus, earnestly, and clasping him by the arm.

But Apaecides, yet unprepared for the renunciation of that faith--that
life, for which he had sacrificed so much, and still haunted by the
promises of the Egyptian, extricated himself forcibly from the grasp;
and feeling an effort necessary to conquer the irresolution which the
eloquence of the Christian had begun to effect in his heated and
feverish mind, he gathered up his robes and fled away with a speed that
defied pursuit.

Breathless and exhausted, he arrived at last in a remote and sequestered
part of the city, and the lone house of the Egyptian stood before him.
As he paused to recover himself, the moon emerged from a silver cloud,
and shone full upon the walls of that mysterious habitation.

No other house was near--the darksome vines clustered far and wide in
front of the building and behind it rose a copse of lofty forest trees,
sleeping in the melancholy moonlight; beyond stretched the dim outline
of the distant hills, and amongst them the quiet crest of Vesuvius, not
then so lofty as the traveler beholds it now.

Apaecides passed through the arching vines, and arrived at the broad and
spacious portico. Before it, on either side of the steps, reposed the
image of the Egyptian sphinx, and the moonlight gave an additional and
yet more solemn calm to those large, and harmonious, and passionless
features, in which the sculptors of that type of wisdom