intments. When her
eye had sought out the several objects, and dwelt upon them a moment,
she said, in tones somewhat reproachful, as much so as it is in her
nature to assume:

'Where, Lucius, are the gods of Rome? Do those who have, through so many
ages, watched over our country, and guarded our house, deserve no honor
at your hands? Does not gratitude require at least that their images
should be here, so that, whether you yourself worship them or not, their
presence may inspire others with reverence? But alas for the times!
Piety seems dead; or, with the faith that inspires it, it lives, but in
a few, who will soon disappear, and religion with them. Whose forms are
these, Lucius? concerning one I can now easily surmise--but the other,
this stern and terrific man, who is he?'

'That,' I replied, 'is Moses, the founder of Judaism.'

'Immortal gods!' exclaimed Portia, 'the statue of a Jew in the halls of
the Pisos! Well may it be that Rome approaches her decline, when her
elder sons turn against her.'

'Nay, my mother, I am not a Jew.'

'I would thou wert, rather than be what I suppose thou art, a Christian.
The Jew, Lucius, can boast of antiquity, at least, in behalf of his
religion. But the faith which you would profess and extend, is but of
yesterday. Would the gods ever leave mankind without religion? Is it
only to-day that they reveal the truth? Have they left us for these many
ages to grope along in error? Never, Lucius, can I believe it. It is
enough for me that the religion of Rome is old as Rome, to endear it to
my heart, and commend it to my understanding. It is not for the first
time, to-day, that the gods have spoken.'

'But, my dear mother,' I rejoined, 'if age makes truth, there are older
religions than this of Rome. Judaism itself is older, by many centuries.
But it is not because a religion is new or old, that I would receive or
reject it.' The only question is, does it satisfy my heart and mind, and
is it true? The faith which you engrafted upon my infant mind, fails to
meet the wants of my nature, and upon looking for its foundations, I
find them not.'

'Is thy nature different from mine, Lucius? Surely, thou art my own
child! It has satisfied me and my nature. I ask for nothing else, or
better.'

'There are some natures, mother, by the gods so furnished and filled
with all good desires and affections, that their religion is born with
them and is in them. It matters little under what outward fo