When Theodosius, the Christian Emperor, in 379 made an edict ordering the demolition of idolatrous temples, it filled the Pagans with dismay. Theophilus, the Archbishop of Alexandria, hastened to execute the order. Marching at the head of the military, he entered the proud temple of the god Serapis, to which a hundred steps led up, and magnificent portices and pillars surrounded the spot. There stood the celebrated colossal statue of the god, made of gold, silver, and other metals fused together, and inlaid with precious stones. When the Christians entered the vast deserted building, the centre of adoration for centuries, they stood silent and awestruck, and after a pause of wonder a soldier was ordered to strike the statue on the knee. He did so timidly, for the spectators expected some terrific outburst of thunder and lightning to destroy him instantaneously. There was an echo, but no sign came. The man, being emboldened, then climbed up to the head, and with one blow struck it off and made it roll to the ground. Another pause. Still no sign of insulted godhead; but a large colony of rats, disturbed from their peaceful abode, suddenly leapt out and scampered about in all directions. The multitude, with their high-strung nerves, were prepared for some act of personal vengeance, but at once dissolved with mirth; peals of loud laughter and jests and mockery mingled with the rest of the work. The curious crowd were further gratified by discovering some of the machinery by which the tricks were produced which had so long imposed on their simple faith, such as letting the light through an aperture fall suddenly on the lips of the statue at the right moment, also a magnet in the roof, which kept a small statue suspended in the air. The fragments of the statue of Serapis were zealously dragged through the streets, and the foundations of the walls were rooted up. The Pagans waited in vain for some sequel of god-like retribution to come; but the river Nile flowed on unmindful of its god without any unusual outbreak. And like scenes were repeated in other cities with the same impunity. In some of the earlier demolitions, however, in other parts of the empire the Pagans resisted, and in some cases successfully. The war against the temples began in Syria. One enthusiastic iconoclast, named Marcellus of Apamea, after successfully destroying temples in other neighbouring places, when attacking that in his own district was seized rudely by the inhabitants and burned alive. The synod of Christians, thinking it a glorious death, refused to revenge on the ignorant barbarians their precipitate outrage. DESTROYING PAGAN TEMPLES TOO ABRUPTLY.