r his treasure, as a lover over his
mistress, as a mother over her child!

The days passed on; and at length the memorable morning arrived which
was to determine the fate of the last temple that Christian fanaticism
had spared to the admiration of the world. At an early hour of the
morning the diminished numbers of the Pagan zealots met their
reinforced and determined opponents--both sides being alike unarmed--in
the great square of Alexandria. The imperial prescript was then
publicly read. It began by assuring the Pagans that their priest's plea
for protection for the temple had received the same consideration which
had been bestowed on the petition against the gods presented by the
Christian Archbishop, and ended by proclaiming the commands of the
Emperor that Serapis and all other idols in Alexandria should
immediately be destroyed.

The shout of triumph which followed the conclusion of the imperial
edict still rose from the Christian ranks when the advanced guard of
the soldiers appointed to ensure the execution of the Emperor's designs
appeared in the square. For a few minutes the forsaken Pagans stood
rooted to the spot where they had assembled, gazing at the warlike
preparations around them in a stupor of bewilderment and despair. Then
as they recollected how diminished were their numbers, how arduous had
been their first defence against a few, and how impossible would be a
second defence against many--from the boldest to the feeblest, a panic
seized on them; and, regardless of Ulpius, regardless of honour,
regardless of the gods, they turned with one accord and fled from the
place.

With the flight of the Pagans the work of demolition began. Even women
and children hurried to join in the welcome task of indiscriminate
destruction. No defenders on this occasion barred the gates of the
temple to the Christian hosts. The sublime solitude of the tenantless
building was outraged and invaded in an instant. Statues were broken,
gold was carried off, doors were splintered into fragments; but here
for a while the progress of demolition was delayed. Those to whom the
labour of ruining the outward structure had been confided were less
successful than their neighbours who had pillaged its contents. The
ponderous stones of the pillars, the massive surfaces of the walls,
resisted the most vigorous of their puny efforts, and forced them to
remain contented with mutilating that which they could not
destroy--with