regenerated soul, a soul of love and greatness, emancipated from the material, yet bearing the same. The death of the one Magdalen, and the rising therefrom of the new Mary, is pathetically described in her own words to Barabbas:
"Friend, I have died!"—she said.—"At my
Lord's feet I laid down all my life. Men made me
what I was; God makes me what I am!"
"Thou'rt man"—she answered.—"Therefore as man thou speakest! Lay all the burden upon woman,—the burden of sin, of misery, of shame, of tears; teach her to dream of perfect love, and then devour her by selfish lust,—slay her by slow tortures innumerable,—cast her away and trample on her even as a worm in the dust, and then when she has perished, stand on her grave and curse her, saying—'Thou wert to blame!—thou fond, foolish, credulous trusting soul!—thou wert to blame!—not I!'"
If Miss Corelli was bold in attacking so vast and
so controversial a subject as the tragedy of the
Christ, she was none the less inspired in her conception
of the situation. The description of Jesus
of Nazareth, upon whom the story centres and
concludes, is simplicity itself. It teaches charity,
love, brotherhood, and yet preaches humility;
not humility of a universal ignorance, but that
"humility" which puts even dignity in the shade,
