ragically out of life, let it be hoped that
he has reached the harbor.

But on the other hand are the challenging and captivating words of
Christ. Had he only spoken of the future life as an enthusiastic
Teacher, and then had passed to the perpetual slumber of the grave
like other philosophers of the time, he would be remembered long.
But, when he had spoken his words concerning immortality, he had
added, "I myself shall surely come back again." From the evidence
which Quintus has heard in Jerusalem he has now fulfilled his
prediction. He has put to scorn the fidelity of the Roman
sentinels at the tomb of Joseph; he has reversed the laws of
nature; he has appeared again, in unique proof that there is to be
a resurrection of the dead. Wide is the difference between Cicero
and the Christ. The one has spoken a mere opinion, so beautiful in
its phrase that it shall pass down into the future literature of
men. The other has spoken a revelation, and then has returned to
prove that revelation true. Which shall it be--Cicero or the
Christ?

But to accept the Jewish Teacher means earthly loss. As he keeps
guard with himself through the night hours Quintus is wondering if
he shall incur the hostility of his father Marcus and shall be
forced to sacrifice his estates on the Palatine. He fancies also
the grief of the fair Lucretia when she learns that he has chosen
an alien faith. And he remembers, further, that in the choice of
the Christus he is joining a company on whom the Eastern world is
already casting its withering contempt. Cicero or the Christus.
Which shall it be?

There are no struggles like the night wrestlings of the soul in
matters of religion. What words can measure the divers arguments,
the opposing considerations, the conflicting emotions that shape
human choice? Quintus stands at the point where soon--in the
progress of the new faith--Saul from Tarsus, Clement of Rome, and
so many more of the great spirits of that first era are to stand.
The wrestlings of the night! Then foul demons are abroad; and then
God's good angels are descending the ladders of the sky.

Soon comes a great moment. While the soul of Quintus is in wild
commotion, there falls upon him a mighty force which is not of
earth. Coming he knows not whence, but not invading the department
of his will, it impels him to the Christ. Transformed is this
Roman knight, who has been taught the doctrines of the Latin cult,
and whose n