"There is great Serapis, whose temple you saw yesterday; there is Apollo, to whom Karnis prefers to offer sacrifice; there is Isis the bountiful, and her sister Nephthys, whose lament you and my young friend sing together so thrillingly; and besides these there are more immortals than I could name while Gorgo--who is leading your little brother to the lake out there--walked ten times from the shore to us and back; and yet--and yet my child, your God is ours and ours is yours." "No, no, He is not, indeed!" cried Agne with increasing alarm.
"But listen," Olympius went on, with the same kind urgency but with extreme dignity, "and answer my questions simply and honestly.

We are agreed, are we not ?--that we perceive the divinity in the works of his creation, and even in his workings in our own souls.

Then which are the phenomena of nature in which you discern Him as especially near to you?
You are silent.

I see, you have outlived your school-days and do not choose to answer to an uninvited catechism.

And yet the things I wish you to name are lovely in themselves and dear to your heart; and if only you did not keep your soft lips so firmly closed, but would give me the answer I ask for, you would remember much that is grand and beautiful.
You would speak of the pale light of dawn, the tender flush that tinges the clouds as the glowing day-star rises from the waves, of the splendor of the sun-as glorious as truth and as warm as divine love.