heterogeneous ologies which men of limited vision have deemed great essentials, without sense of their absolute unity, only when in their true order they mutually sustain and support each other? Valueless, almost, when alone, or unduly individualized, but eminently one, when seen from the peaks of divine order, or under the sunlight of divine inspiration and revelation, to which all the sons and daughters of Zion are so freely invited, and yet to which they only measurably respond. Tradition, usage, mistaken estimate of values, have given the transitory, the temporary, the segregated, pre-eminence over the true, the permanent, the eternal human wisdom, based on momentary necessity and limited vision, and have lost sight of God, and of his way and will; but the substitute will perish, and theology will redeem the race, and swing back this fallen earth into the Presence, when men shall realize the unity of truth, the unity of righteous thought in Theology, when God and Christ will be all in all.

What then shall we say, that loving research shall cease, that the lower ologies shall be abandoned? Not at all. Only assign to each one its relative importance. We may be only on the very threshold of Theology, while others may seem more advanced and more immediately progressive. The ocean consists of drops, the seashore of grains of sand, matter of molecules or atoms, the human race of valueless members, but each possesses a special mission, an appropriate sphere. Our friend could say, "I know nothing nothing of myself, nothing of life. I cannot create a leaf, a flower, a blade of grass-I indeed know nothing!" "But," said the listener, "you were once a child, you are now seventy-eight years of age. You have had vast experience, have traveled and seen; the earth is familiar to you, and the worlds around are analyzed and measured in the brief life you have accumulated. Now, if it is true that 'to know God and Jesus Christ is eternal or unending life,' to what may you not aspire in that period? If knowledge is power, how much of that may you exercise? What shall be its limit or its end?"

The calm philosopher went off silently to his quiet room, and the writer to find responsive listeners to the mysteries of God, by way of the alphabet of the Gospel. "Sowing the seed by all waters, not knowing which shall prosper, this or that!"

THE CELTIC MAIDEN.

A STORY OF ANCIENT BRITAIN.

BY PROFESSOR WILLARD DONE.

CHAPTER III.

As Claudius stood absorbed in silent reverie, he saw the worshipers disperse. He was astonished at the varied conditions of life represented in the little group. Though they were scarcely more than a score in number, there were among them patrician officers, plebeian soldiers, Roman attendants and alien slaves. Ho observed, also, that both sexes mingled together on terms of perfect equality, and with the greatest respect. He saw the slave maiden, whom he had purchased five years before as a soulless chattel, treated with respect-almost with veneration by Roman officers of higher rank than himself. Then a great light burst upon the soul of Claudius, and he began to see that there was something in the new creed, the religion of Christ—which gave to this maiden sanctity in his own eyes, and caused her to be regarded not only as an equal, but with reverence by those whom paganism made her superiors. And now he understood why, in her presence, he himself had been subdued, and his tumultuous thoughts and feelings quelled. It was the soul of sanctity and purity, manifested in one of the kind that he had been taught to regard as soulless.

As the young man stood in the moonlight, racked with conflicting thoughts, the last of the worshipers dispersed, and the only sound he heard was the shout of revelry and the drunken jest from the group he had left an hour before. Under the influence

of the ribald noise, he experienced a revulsion of feeling, and was tempted to rush in among the revelers and drown his thoughts. He had commenced a rapid walk toward the festive house, when a startling thing happened and arrested his steps. The light of the moon fell full on the path which led into the dense wood. Across this interval of space and light, dark-robed, sombre figures were passing.

Claudius was both startled and interested by the incident. He walked rapidly toward the spot, and peered anxiously into the dense undergrowth of timber whither the mysterious figures had gone. He could not see them.

He had no idea how to account for the strange occurrence, and yet he felt that it possessed some significance.

Recklessly

he plunged into the wood, guided by the sound of footsteps.

In the meantime, the group which Claudius had left an hour before, was indulging deeply in the pleasures of wine. Under its influence they were fast becoming ripe for any adventure, innocent or criminal. Naturally, their thoughts and conversation turned on the quarrel between Claudius and Decius. Words rose higher and higher, his friends chaffing Decius, and bantering him to a deeper animosity toward Claudius.

"A quarrel," said one, "over a mere piece of property, and its imaginary feelings and honor, is beneath you, my Decius."

"But the quarrel did not begin there," said Decius. "He was ready to twit me with indulgence in wine; why not I him with the amours with women?"

"And what women! What a range of choice, from the patrician to the slave! But why was the slave alone defended?"

Decius' answer was accompanied by a flippant shrug. "She is the newest-the present one! The others are discarded for the time. Let him tire of her, and her safety or danger will be of no concern to him."

He cares not for her safety now," said one of the group. "A test is easy, my comrades." As he spoke, he took from a closet a collection of masks. A shout of applause greeted the suggestive action. He threw the door open and peered out. Just at that moment, the singing which had attracted the attention of Claudius sounded sacredly through the still air. But it had no softening

effect on the debauchees. The door was closed amid a roar of de

risive laughter.

But the leader of the carousers had caught sight of the awestruck figure of Claudius standing at his tent door, and drinking the music into his soul. Turning to one of his slaves, he gave the command, "Keep Claudius in sight, but let him not know that he is watched." Then turning to his companions, "We separate into two parties; I lead one, you, Julius, the other. Decius comes with We sieze Claudius, you the girl. When the two are brought together in a remote portion of the wood, our course will be decided on. Remember, silence and caution. The prize is worth the game."

me.

Lest the silence should prove a warning to the intended victims, the speaker broke into a roystering, boisterous song, in which the others joined with gusto. In the meanwhile the slave's vigilance was undiminished. At length he reported the dispersing of the group of worshipers, and, a few moments later, the hurried departure of Claudius toward the dark wood.

Immediately the men separated into two parties, and each started on its errand. As Claudius plunged from the lighted path into the dense darkness of the wood, the group of masked men followed at such an angle as to intercept him. Before he knew of their approach, they were almost upon him. He had time only to

draw his sword and make one blind thrust into darkness, but that thrust disabled the leader of the attacking party. Decius sprang over the prostrate form of his leader, in whose fall Claudius' sword was entangled, and seconded by his companions, disarmed Claudius and held him prisoner.

"I know your touch and your presence," exclaimed Claudius, "you are Decius! You answer for this to the imperator."

No reply was made; and soon, bound, blind-folded, and gagged, he was carried to the meeting place agreed upon.

In the meantime, the other party had been intent upon its task. They were guided by the slave, who had followed the girl in her meditative walk after the service. Her head was bowed in grief, as she thought of her forlorn condition, as the slave of a man who, though noble in feeling and sentiment, was the victim of base companionship. She had heard the sounds of revelry

which profaned the moonlit air; and she knew that such carousing was only one phase of the life of baseness into which a man of great native force and purity had been betrayed by the profligacy of the times. For must not the snow be tinged with stain when it falls through the blackened, smoke-laden air of a city, though it lies white and pure as cleansed wool on country lanes and desert wastes? So had the life of this young man fallen, amid blackening, sin-stained customs of a decaying, profligate civilization; so had his soul partaken of that darkness. Even so, was it in need of the cleansing. Yet she remembered with pleasure, that in her ministering to him, she had seen the purest, brightest side of his character; and with a feeling of pardonable pride, she acknowledged to herself that, infinitely below him though she was in the artificial scale of social life, she was able at intervals to lift him up to higher ideals and to better thoughts.

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by hurried footsteps, approaching from two directions. From the left, there suddenly loomed up before her, large, uncouth, black-robed figures, men with long, white beards, and aspect at once fierce and venerable. Behind her were six young, lithe, active men, with faces whose masked portions gleamed with reckless dissipation. Rooted to the spot with fear, she uttered a silent prayer. One of the strange group seized her, and as the young men rushed toward him with drawn swords, the others flourishing swords and axes, formed a line of defense. The conflict was short, but fierce. Seven men fell beneath the blows of the suddenly sobered young Romans; but in compensation, all of these had been slain. And the helpless, shrieking girl was borne by the weird figures into the wood.

Calmly, the moon shone down upon the stiffening corpses mute witnesses to the fate of the hapless maiden-but she herself was as if the earth had swallowed her.

Long the men who held Claudius prisoner, waited in silence for their confederates. Then their complacency gave way to anxiety, and this to a nameless dread. Three of the men were silently despatched to discover the cause of the delay. Half an hour later, they returned with blanched faces, and beckoned the others to follow. The moon was approaching the horizon, and only slanting rays shone on the ghastly scene. Anxiously and