ired with tints more pure and tender than those of
the roses with which Cleopatra had decked herself for the banquet.

Not like this did the sun rise in his own country! Or, was it perhaps
only that in Corinth or in Athens at break of day, as he staggered
home drunk from some feast, he had looked more at the earth than at the
heavens?

His horses began now to neigh loudly as if to greet the steeds of the
coming Sun-god. Lysias hurried to them through the grove, patted their
shining necks with soothing words, and stood looking down at the vast
city at his feet, over which hung a film of violet mist--at the solemn
Pyramids, over which the morning glow flung a gay robe of rose-color--on
the huge temple of Ptah, with the great colossi in front of its
pylons--on the Nile, mirroring the glory of the sky, and on the
limestone hills behind the villages of Babylon and Troy, about which he
had, only yesterday, heard a Jew at the king's table relating a legend
current among his countrymen to the effect that these hills had been
obliged to give up all their verdure to grace the mounts of the sacred
city Hierosolyma.

The rocky cliffs of this barren range glowed at this moment like the
fire in the heart of the great ruby which had clasped the festal robe of
King Euergetes across his bull-neck, as it reflected the shimmer of
the tapers: and Lysias saw the day-star rising behind the range with
blinding radiance, shooting forth rays like myriads of golden arrows, to
rout and destroy his foe, the darkness of night.

Eos, Helios, Phoebus Apollo--these had long been to him no more than
names, with which he associated certain phenomena, certain processes and
ideas; for he when he was not luxuriating in the bath, amusing himself
in the gymnasium, at cock or quail-fights, in the theatre or at
Dionysiac processions--was wont to exercise his wits in the schools
of the philosophers, so as to be able to shine in bandying words at
entertainments; but to-day, and face to face with this sunrise, he
believed as in the days of his childhood--he saw in his mind's eye the
god riding in his golden chariot, and curbing his foaming steeds, his
shining train floating lightly round him, bearing torches or scattering
flowers--he threw up his arms with an impulse of devotion, praying
aloud:

"To-day I am happy and light of heart. To thy presence do I owe this,
O! Phoebus Apollo, for thou art light itself. Oh! let thy favors
continue--"

But he here br