the blessed above, was the clear, sweet voice of Icilius, saying

to her

"Fear not, mother; your boy will not disgrace you. They may kill me; but they will only send my spirit to Jesus and to you."

And now this babe in Christ stood steadfast on the platform, and looked up to heaven with such faith and hope in his glorious young eyes, that he seemed to be expecting "a chariot of fire, and horses of fire," to come and wrap him from the sight of the cruel heathen multitude, and bear him unharmed to the land of joy and rest.

Did no pity move the breasts of that multitude? Were there no strong hands and valiant hearts ready to rescue the helpless Christians, and even to brave the same death that now awaited them, in the effort to rescue those whose only crime was having loved the Divine Lover of their souls, and being ready to die rather than deny Him who died for them? O God! and can it be that the hearts of thy creatures can be thus "harder than the nether millstone ?" Can human

beings, on whom thy mercy is daily and hourly poured down, be thus without one spark of mercy towards their fellow-men? Yes-thy word tells us that "the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." So it has ever been—and so will it ever be until the Sun of Righteousness returns again to dispel the thick darkness of heathenism, and the murky clouds of unbelief, from this our polluted world.

None moved a hand, none raised a voice, for the followers of the despised Nazarene; and if any felt compassion, and perhaps sympathy for them, the fear of man kept them still and silent.

There were in that theatre many, especially among the females, who would not that day have been present if they had known that the usual performances and combats were to have such a closing scene. But even the ladies of Alexandria were afraid to manifest their repugnance to the cruelty and persecution which were frequently practised towards the Christians for the purpose of pleasing the superstitious and bigoted populace. So they all sat still, and heard the Prefect give the order for the opening of the iron-grated doors that divided the wild beasts from the stage. The chains rattled, the bolts grated in their sockets, and the doors were drawn up by men placed in a gallery above them.

There was a pause-a breathless pause-and then one shrill scream resounded through the Circus. Did it come from that group of victims ? No; they uttered no sound; they made no movement; they stood like fixed and lifeless statues to receive the deadly gripe of the famished beasts. It came that deadly gripe-and the souls of the martyrs rose, a holy and glorified group, to heaven. That piercing shriek rang through the ears of Alypius, and awoke him from that horrible kind of trance into which he had fallen. He looked at Medora; and he saw that her eyes were wild and staring, and every feature convulsed with agony.

"It is murder!" she screamed, in a loud, unnatural voice. "It is cruel murder of the helpless and the innocent. Let me go!" And she rose and flung her graceful arms aloft, and struggled violently with her father and brother, who strove to hold her.

Alypius was greatly excited. The fearful scene which was

still going on upon the stage had almost maddened him. Hardly knowing what he did, he sprang from his seat, and forced a way round until he reached the spot immediately behind Medora, and found her mother and brother endeavouring to bear her now senseless form through the surrounding crowd. All animation had now left her features, and all power had forsaken her limbs. She could neither move nor stand; but her eyes were open, and her white lips moved incessantly, as she murmured :

"Oh, it is murder, and I have seen it! And those, the brave, the lovely, and the young, are being torn to pieces for the sake of their God! Could I thus endure for the sake of the great Isis ? Could not the Christians' God save them from this death? Are the wild beasts tearing that sweet child? Save him, O save him! you who are men!"

"Take her away; take her quickly!" said Sophis, in a low and almost angry voice. "She will draw the attention of the whole theatre upon herself and us. She wished to be a priestess of the gods of Egypt; she might have had to witness worse scenes than this."

Sophis glanced intelligently at his son as he said these words, and was answered by a meaning smile.

"I shall remain here," continued Sophis. "I must be seen in the theatre when the Prefect addresses the people, and gives prizes to the bravest and most skilful of the gladiators. I would not have him miss me then. I had intended to present this foolish girl to him after the entertainment; but her weakness has prevented it. You must try, Marcella, to bring her by-and-bye to the feast in the great square."

Meanwhile Medora was becoming unconscious, and had ceased to speak. In vain Orestes besought the bystanders to make room for him to bear her away in his arms. The crush seemed to become greater, and the crowd denser. Just then Alypius saw a group of his fellow-students standing near, and eagerly waiting to press forward to the front of the seats. He entreated their assistance in clearing a passage; and their strong arms soon effected this object. He then respectfully addressed the mother of the now fainting girl, and requested to be permitted to give his aid in removing her from the theatre. Gratefully his offer was accepted; and he and Orestes carried her along the passages which led to the outer air; while Marcella, who was herself much distressed and agitated, followed closely, with her eyes riveted on her daughter's pallid face.

As soon as they arrived at the great entrance, and the fresh air blew on Medora's face, she opened her eyes, which immediately met those of Alypius. A rich colour overspread her cheeks at finding herself supported by a stranger, and she attempted to stand alone, but was obliged to lean on her brother, while she gently bowed her thanks to Alypius, and turned to seek her mother.

Marcella was close at hand; and she requested the stranger to summon the litter, which was ready to convey her and her daughter to their home. In this litter the ladies were placed ; and then-repeating their thanks to Alypius, to which Marcella added a courteous invitation to their residence in the city -they were borne away, followed by Orestes; and the young Tagastean was left alone.

Much he mused on all that he had seen of the lovely and of the revolting, and of all that he had felt of pleasure and of pain, during the brief hours that he had been in the Circus. Many were his resolutions never again to enter a place where such barbarous scenes were to be witnessed. Deep were his reflections on the conduct of the Christians; and strong his desire to know more of the principles which actuated them, and gave them such courage and firmness. New, also, and painful were the feelings which filled his breast when he compared the heroic victims with those who had persecuted them to the death, and remembered how even the highest philosophy inculcated mercy and forbearance, and reprobated all needless cruelty as unworthy of the true dignity of man. But Alypius did not know anything of the natural corruption of the human heart-he did not know that, when left to itself, it is as a den of noisome beasts, only waiting until aroused by passion to break forth into the most frightful and cruel excesses.

Alypius believed that reason and philosophy were powerful enough to guide and govern a rational being, and keep him in the paths of morality and virtue. He believed this, though he had never yet found it true, either in his own experience, or that of any of his friends and acquaintance. He had yet to learn the only way by which the heart of man can be cleansed, or his life ennobled; he had yet to be taught, by repeated failures, that all his strength was but perfect weakness; and that only in the strength of ANOTHER could he hope to rise above his natural corruptions, and live the life for which he had been created.