opposes either you or any other people, and who prevents many unjust and illegal acts from being committed in a state?' Socrates affirms that to a holy being death is imminent. And do you not remember the well-known definition of the just man in the discussion about justice, in the second book of the Republic, where the speaker, after mentioning the just man, goes on to maintain that the Just One should have nothing but his own righteousness to sustain him? Let him be without everything except righteousness: without doing injustice, too, let him have the reputation of the greatest, in order that he may be put to the test for justice, and not be moved to reproach and its consequences, but rather be unchangeable till death, seeming, indeed, to be unjust through life, though really just.'

"Do you not, above all, remember what the speaker in that dialogue affirmed would be the lot of such a man? The Just One, thus situated, will be scourged, tortured, fettered, have his eyes burned out, and after suffering all manner of evils, will at last be crucified."

These words were spoken by Julius with a solemnity and an emphasis that showed how deep a meaning he attached to them. He then remained silent for a time, and Cineas, who seemed quite startled, said nothing. The passage was well known to him; it had come up more than once in the discussions of "the master," but though he had been familiar with the character of Christ for some time, it had never occurred to him to refer it to him. Now, when he saw them so applied, he saw the full meaning of Julius. For Christ was in his eyes the All Holy, the Perfect Just, the One who in his life was considered unjust by his enemies, who was slandered and reviled, who had nothing of his own except his righteousness and holiness. And what was his fate? Was not he scourged and tortured? Was not he, after suffering all manner of evils, finally crucified? This thought for a time overwhelmed Cineas, and Julius, seeing the effect of it, said nothing.

At length Cincas recovered himself.

"Most admirable is your argument, Julius," said he.

"Plato

is assuredly a witness for Christ; and I am glad that you have shown me a new application for these passages. I am quite willing to read them as you do. For I admire the pure and unsullied character of the One whom you so love; I revere his lofty virtue and his constancy till the end. Of all these I have heard enough to touch my heart. But you ask of me far more than this.

"I will go so far as to say, that if God should manifest himself to man, such a manifestation as this would not be unworthy even of the Deity. Such a life as this might not be inconsistent with divine grandeur. But when you ask me to look at Can this be the Divine

him on the cross, I recoil in horror.

One who thus endures death?

"I pass by the shame, the insult, and the agony. I look only at the one fact of death. It matters not to me that, as you say, he rose again. I can look no further than the one fact of his death. That is enough. To me it is simply inconceivable that God, under any circumstances, should suffer death."

Unless

To this Julius answered, that Christ died to atone for sin. All men are sinners, and subject to the wrath of God. they can obtain pardon, they must suffer for ever.

To this doctrine Cineas expressed the strongest repugnance. "I acknowledge," said he, "that there is much sin in the world; but a large number of men are simple good-hearted folk, and to say that they are under God's wrath, and liable to eternal punishment, seems so shocking that I do not think it deserves discussion.

"To pardon sin, you say. What sin? I deny that all men are sinners. I know many good, and wise, and holy men, who have done nothing to merit any future punishment, and who, in fact, should receive in the future nothing but blessedness. For myself, I do not see what I have done that needed such

suffering on my behalf.

You will say that he died for me.

Why should he die for me? What punishment have I deserved, that he should take it upon himself and suffer in my place?

"I, from my earliest youth, have tried to seek after truth and God. Is this sin? I have given myself up to this lifelong pursuit. Have I incurred God's wrath-the wrath of One whom my soul craves to know and seeks to love?

"Have I not sought after him all my life? Do I not now esteem the knowledge of him the greatest blessing that can come to man, and will he turn away his face for ever from one who seeks above all to know him? I have always endeavoured to live a pure life, and will you tell me that eternal punishment lies before me? For what? What have I ever done? Can you believe this, and yet affirm that God is just ?"

This brought on a long discussion. Julius undertook to show that sin lies in thought as well as action; and that he who would examine his own heart, and compare himself with what he ought to be, would see that he was a sinner. On the other hand, Cineas maintained that such things as these were not sins, but merely imperfections, for which no one was responsible, or, at any rate, if any one was responsible, it could only be the Creator.

The discussion then went off into wide questions, but nothing could be accomplished either in one way or another. They had no common ground here. Cineas complained that Julius persisted in seeing sin in those thoughts and words which he himself considered perfectly harmless; that he gave no credit to the noble acts of valour and patriotism which men perform, but affirmed that no soul could be saved by these.

"Your whole doctrine of sin," said he, "is so excessively repugnant that the discussion is painful. Indeed, a discussion on such a subject seems to me to be useless. It is a good and a pleasant world that we see around us, and to apply the name sinners to the 'kindly race of men,' seems like saying that the world is all dark, even in its bright day-time.

"But, Julius." he said in conclusion, "believe me, I am not one who brings up a score of petty objections to a pure and elevated religion for an idle purpose. I am distressed. I am perplexed. I wish that this Christianity of yours could be made acceptable to me. But it cannot be.

"Go on as you propose. My heart shall be with you. I will stand where I am, and in my doubt will still pray to him; and if, as I have always believed, he indeed hears prayer, then surely he will at some time hear mine, feeble though it be, if not in this life, yet perhaps in the next."

Julius seized the hand of his friend and pressed it earnestly. "There are many prayers ascending for you, and he who has promised to hear all prayer, will surely hear those which bear up your name to his ears. As to this question about sin, I can only say that I once thought as you do; but lately I seem to have received a great light in my soul, and have seen that I am sinful. Whatever you may be, I at least needed all that Christ has done. I deserved suffering; he bore it for me. I believe in him, and give myself up to him, for this life and for the life to come."

"This light that comes to your mind," said Cineas, "is something that I have never experienced. I must move on in obedience to a logical process. I must obey reason above all things. A theory stated in so many words is not enough. I must test it. If it will not stand questioning, how am I to receive it? But I will talk no more of myself. Think of me as one who approves of what you are doing, and who deems you happier than himself. It has been my lot to see Christianity bringing peace and comfort to many minds that had been disturbed by much sorrow. It brings happiness. May you possess all the happiness that it can give."

"That happiness will yet be yours, too, my best of friends, I doubt not. A longer time will be needed; but you will at last see the truth as it is in Jesus."

AV

XXII.

Son and Father.

HEN Julius informed his father of his decision, he met with a storm of indignant rebuke. The old man hated Christianity because it came from Syria. He indulged in his usual strain of invective against the vices of the age, and declared that Syria had ruined all things.

"Don't tell me," he cried, "that Christianity is different. It cannot be. It is impossible for any good thing to come out of Syria. The people are incurably vicious. From immemorial ages it has been the chosen seat of all vice, and profligacy, and obscenity. You are deceived, foolish boy. You are beguiled by a fair exterior. Wait till you learn the actual practice of these Christians. For my part, I believe all that the people say about them. I believe that they indulge in horrid vices in their secret meetings, in those out of the way places where no honest man ever thinks of going. Don't tell me I am wrong. I am right, and I know it. You will find this out some day. There is nothing but foulness in everything Syrian. Rome is full of it. What other curse has Rome but this? Go to all the most infamous scoundrels in the city and ask, them where they come from. There is only one place-Syria."

So the old man morosely railed on. Nothing could induce him to listen to the explanation of Julius. Nothing could make him think that the Christians were in any way different