its foundations and brought it to the verge of destruction
in spite of the persecutions, in spite of the edicts
of the apostate Julian, in spite of the desperate
efforts of the philosophers, sophists, and heathen—for
our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, has given certainty
and actuality to the fleeting shadow of half-divined
truth which lies in the core of the worship of Serapis.
The pure and radiant star of Christian love has risen
in the place of the dim nebulous mist of Serapis;
and just as the moon pales when the sun appears triumphant,
the worship of Serapis has died away in a thousand
places where the gospel has been received. Even
here, in Alexandria, its feeble flame is kept alive
only by infinite care, and if the might of our pious
and Christian Emperor makes itself felt-tomorrow,
or next day—then, my beloved, it will vanish
in smoke, and no power on earth can fan it into life
again. Not our grandsons, no, but our own children
will ask: Who—what was Serapis?
For he who shall be overthrown is no longer a mighty
god but an idol bereft of his splendor and his dignity.
This is no struggle of might against might; it is
the death-stroke given to a wounded and vanquished
foe. The tree is rotten to the core and can crush
no one in its fall, but it will cover all who stand
near it with dust and rubbish. The sovereign
has outlived his dominion, and when his fingers drop
the sceptre few indeed will bewail him, for the new
King has already mounted the throne and His is the
Kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever!
Amen.”
Dada had listened to the deacon’s address with
no particular interest, but the conclusion struck
her attention. The old man looked dignified
and honest; but Father Karnis was a well-meaning man,
no doubt, and one of those who are wont to keep on
the winning side. How was it that the preacher
could draw so pitiable a picture of the very same god
whose greatness her uncle had praised in such glowing
terms only two days since? How could the same
thing appear so totally different to two different
people?
The priest looked more sagacious than the musician;
Marcus, the young Christian, had a most kind heart;
there was not a better or gentler creature under the
sun than Agne—it was quite possible that
Christianity was something very different in reality
from what her foster parents chose to represent.
As to the frightful consequences of the overthrow
of the temple of Serapis, on that point she was completely
reassured, and she prepared to listen with greater
attention as Eusebius went on:
“Let us rejoice, beloved! The great idol’s
days are numbered! Do you know what that false
worship has been in our midst? It has been like
a splendid and richly-dressed trireme sailing, plague-stricken,
into a harbor full of ships and boats. Woe to
those who allow themselves to be tempted on board
by the magnificence of its decorations! How great
is their chance of infection, how easily they will