e present generation fought
and won a triumphant victory. The innocent blood of the people that was
slain on the streets of Athens by orders from the Royal Palace, have
wrote with indelible letters, the anathema, which, frenzied mothers in
the sight of their assassinated sons, and overwhelmed in grief, cried
against Queen Olga, and her crown all but torn to pieces by the wronged
multitudes.

Within 24 hours from that terrible bloody day, that will remain an
indelible stigma in the history of Queen Olga's life, the most exalted
Metropolite Procopios was a fallen ragmuffin and the most hated person
in all Greece. And when every one of his colleagues deserted him and the
King and Queen shut their door in his face, leaving him a pitiful victim
of the political plots to save the royal skin, and while there was no
visible friend to give him a helping hand when fallen from the
Metropolitan Throne, and while this monk-metropolite Procopios, in all
his glorious days had been a profound enemy against every honest effort,
especially against young priests who refused to serve his unlawful
appetites, and my own experience with this monk-metropolite Procopios is
not of the kind to be printed, yet, it was I who put my own life in a
probable danger to save him from the mob, that was ready to attack him,
and probably kill him, the day after I made his escape possible into
the Saint Mary's Monastery, Salamis, where at the time I was
Archimandrites.

Procopios, in the opinion of his own friends, was the last man in the
Greek priesthood, qualified to occupy the Metropolitan Throne of Athens,
and totally lost his will power when he became Metropolite by Royal
favor. There was an organized clique around the Metropolitan mansion,
but the controlling power should be located within the walls of the
Royal Palace. Procopios was only an instrument transmitting orders. And
if I was allowed to publish all that Procopios himself told me, in
Salamis, it would make the Greek people sit up and take notice, but in
my vows as confessor I have to carry the confession of the fallen
Metropolite Procopios with me to my grave, unless the need arises to
serve the best interests of my beloved country. It was his last
confession upon the earth. He died and went there, where, at the great
Judgment Day, he, surely will give account for all his deeds done in the
body.

For the first time in the ecclesiastical history of the Greek Kingdom, a
Metropolite abdicated