thunders and cataclysm, so that what shall come through,—­what shall be when the thunder is stilled and the cataclysm over,—­ shall flow on and up onto a new order of cycles, higher, nearer the Spirit. . . . .  No; it is not to be done by amiable gentlemen, or excellent administrators, or clever politicians. . . .  Julian had come flaming down into the world, to see if he could rouse up and call together those who should do it; but his bugles had sounded in the empty desert, and died away over the sands.

There were tremendous energies abroad; but they were all with the Destroyers, and were to be, ever increasingly:  with such men as, at this time, Saint Martin of Tours, that great tearer-down of temples; or in the next century, Saint Cyril of Alexandria and Peter the Reader, the tearers-to-pieces of Hypatia.  Perhaps the greatest energies of all you should have found, now and later, in the Christian mob of Alexandria,—­wild beasts innocent of nothing but soap and water.

It was Symmachus who was chosen by the Roman Senate to remonstrate with the emperor Valentinian against the removal of the altar and statue of Victory,—­the Pagan symbols,—­from the senate house.  I quote you Gibbon’s summary of a part of his petition: 

“The great and incomprehensible Secret of the Universe eludes the enquiry of man.  Where reason cannot instruct, custom may be permitted to guide; and every nation seems to consult the dictates of prudence by a faithful attachment to those rites and opinions which have received the sanction of ages.  If those ages have been crowned with glory and prosperity—­if the devout people have frequently obtained the blessings which they have solicited at the altars of the Gods—­it must appear still more advisable to persist in the same salutary practise and not to risk the unknown perils that may attend any rash inovations.  The test of antiquity and success, (continues Gibbon), was applied with singular advantage to the Religion of NUMA, and Rome herself, the celestial genius that presided over the fates of the city, is introduced by the orator to plead her own cause before the tribunal of the emperors.  ‘Most excellent princes,’ says the venerable matron, ’fathers of your country! pity and respect my age, which has hitherto flowed in an uninterrupted course of piety.  Since I do not repent, enjoy my domestic institutions.  This religion has reduced the world under my laws.  These rites have repelled Hannibal from the city, and the Gauls from the Capitol.  Were my grey hairs reserved for such intolerable disgrace?  I am ignorant of the new system I am required to adopt; but I am well assured that the correction of old age is always an ungrateful and ignominious office.’”