The day was glorious, and the hearts of the Ephesian people were brimming over with joy, for was not this the first day of the month Artemision? Eager crowds of people read the great inscription, which ran as follows:

’Tothe Ephesian Diana.

’Inasmuch as it is notorious that not only among the people of Ionia, but everywhere among the Greek nations, temples are dedicated to her, on account of her plain manifestations of herself; and that, moreover, in token of the great veneration paid to her, a month is called after her name, by us Artemisiona, by the Macedonians and other Greek nations, Artemision, in which general assemblies and hieromenia are celebrated.

’Now, inasmuch as these sacred honours are not observed in the holy city, the nurse of its own, the Ephesian goddess; the people of Ephesus deem it proper that the whole month called by her name be sacred and set apart for the goddess; and have determined by this decree that the observation of it by them be improved.

’Therefore, it is enacted that in the whole month Artemision the days be holy, and nothing be attended to in them but the yearly feastings, the Artemisial panegyrics and the hieromenia, the entire month being sacred to the goddess; for, from this improvement in her worship, her cities shall receive additional lustre and be permanent in their prosperity for ever.’

Little crowds coming up from Smyrna and Thyatira, Sardis and Laodicea, from Militus on the coast and Samos on the sea, gathered around and read this proclamation. The people of Ephesus felt themselves honoured by their city being the Temple-home of the great goddess, and all gave themselves up to rejoicing. And the day wore on.

From the great theatre, all the way through the city gate to the finest, largest, and richest Temple ever reared, thousands of people in holiday attire awaited with ardent desire for the great procession which was heralded as it left the Temple.

And now it moves in all its magnificence and music, and symbols of the ceremonies. First came choirs of the most beautiful youths and lovely maidens clothed in white robes, singing responsively the praises of their protecting deity. The procession moved along regularly. Some carried the holy utensils, others torches, others, again, baskets of flowers which were strewn in the way. Perfumes were scattered amongst the people until the air was redolent with sweet odours. Next followed the horses, hounds, and hunting accoutrements, as well for attack as defence; after this came a train of virgins led by a lovely girl dressed in a purple robe. The skin of a fawn girded it round, on which hung a quiver and arrows. She symbolized Diana the Huntress, and was followed by her faithful hounds.

Then came choirs of youths and maidens singing the sacred chants, one choir answering the other, and then unitedly sending forth a peal in unison.

After them a multitude of Ephesian children. Then, with flying feet and swinging, voluptuous forms, the dancing-girls of Ionia.

Now rose on the perfumed air the sound of instruments, from the sweet, low tones of the flute and golden notes of the magadis, to the resounding clang of the cymbals and the beat of the timbrels, playing the ‘March of Hell.’ Whoever has heard such notes may never forget them music set to the shrieks of the lost in Tartarus the wild imploring of the forsaken pleading for forgiveness, as the songs from the dwellers in the Elysian fields break on their sinking souls like a ray of golden hope, too soon to be drowned by the cries of the Furies.

And thus did the Ephesians play the ‘March of the Goddess Hecate,’ and the sound of the queenly tread of the Infernal Goddess seemed to follow the ranks of her devotees, ranks of priests and priestesses dressed in black raiment bestud with stars of gold, a crescent moon on every brow. They held their hands towards the earth. Now came banners waving in the air, and standards of silver and gold bestud with precious stones. The Temple way blazed out with gorgeous colouring and glittering sheen.

Then rose to view the golden statue of the goddess, with many symbols of earth and sky and sea, supported by bars of gold and borne on the shoulders of stalwart men, all priests of the Temple, followed by a train of virgin priestesses with heads erect, wearing fillets of gold and myrtle-blossoms, each carrying the insignia of her office. These were followed by priests and choirs of singers, and others carrying smaller images of the goddess and silver shrines set with diamonds and emeralds. A company of lovely girls played music like the Dawn of Love.

Men of culture, men of noble rank, followed: all were greeted with loud acclaim. Then came again the tones of tibia, cithara, and many-sounding instruments playing the music of Diana, no fierce trumpetings, but sweetest melody, soft, peaceful, and joyful. In the rhythm were the fall of dew, the swing of the sickle, the song of the reapers, the lowing of cattle and laughter of children at play, and the mother’s murmur of love as she hushed her babe to rest.

The vast procession moved onward with songs and hymns innumerable, and music and melody mingled in harmony to the Queen of Nature, Queen of Hades, Queen of Heaven, telling the story of her many attributes.

The vast pageant had gone gone by the way of the great theatre, around Mount Pion and the Stadium to the Sacred Grove and the Temple.

Two men remained behind; they were strangers to each other.

One was Chios, the other a man short in stature, roughly clad, with eyes full of fire and possessed of great intelligence. He neither knelt nor applauded whilst the procession passed, but stood a stern spectator. One could see at a glance he was not a worshipper of the mighty Diana. Possessed of a firm, steadfast, thoughtful look, it stamped him as a character of no mean order. Who could he be? And why there at such a time, neither accepting nor opposing the worship of the city goddess?

He was one of the chief of the sect who followed the Christ of Nazareth, and had come to Ephesus to war against the Old with a New Creed.

Seeing him alone, and apparently poor, Chios, with that kindness ever characteristic of him, drew nigh, saying:

’Hail, fellow voyager! How didst thou like the mighty gathering of all that is power, truth, and loveliness in Ephesus?’

Then replied he:

’The kingly power and loveliness passed by in yonder show, but the truth was not there.’

’How sayest thou this, friend? Art thou not a worshipper of our great goddess Diana?’

‘No.’

‘What, then, dost thou worship?’

‘I worship God.’

‘And canst thou not worship God and adore her?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

’Because God is a spirit and demands spiritual worship. He is a jealous God, and will have no other gods before Him.’

‘Now, pray tell me,’ said Chios, ’why of necessity should we worship your Deity? In what particular does He differ from Diana? She also is a great spirit. Why multiply gods and worship another?’

’Listen, young man. There is but one eternal past and future, and one Eternal God only can reign. There is no division of eternal power; so infinite is He, the universe is but a point compared to Him. He dwells above, below, beyond it. No man can follow His presence into the unfathomable abyss, no princely spirit could wing its way to find Him out. Ye worship ye know not what. You have set up the symbols of nature and named it deity. There is no God behind those symbols to answer when you call. You answer yourselves believe a lie; custom gilds it as a truth.’

’Thou speakest strongly, good man. Dost thou bring proof of thy teachings?’

’My proof is within me: communion with the Spirit of my God. He speaks to me, believe it who may; it is sufficient for me.’

’But what if thou hast lulled thyself into a sweet calm, a calm born of content, worshipping a spiritual ideal? May it not be thus?’

‘No.’

‘How shall I know that what thou sayest is true?’

‘By worshipping my God.’

‘And what will follow?’

‘The same conscious calm and communion, and thou shalt be the judge.’

‘Tell me more of Him. Does He work by love or command?’

’Both. Those who serve Him find His commands encircled with love. He commands as a father for the good of his children. He is our Father, created our being; as when He said, “Let there be light,” and the light flashed through the darkness.’

‘What is the name of thy sect?’

‘Christian.’

’Ah well, I have heard much of them, and desire to hear of their creed. Now I remember yes, I remember the Father. Is there not wrapped up in the mysteries some teaching respecting a Son?’

’Yes, that is true the Christ. He was slain by Pilate of Judea. Hast thou not heard of it?’

’Yes, I have heard as thou sayest; but I must confess I know little or nothing of the mysteries which surround thy faith.’

‘Wouldst thou know?’

‘I would.’

’Then thou shalt; but not now. This is not a place to expound the hidden things of God; moreover, if seen with me, evil may befall thee. Go now thy way. Let my prayers go with thee. We shall meet again. I will send for thee.’

‘Thou mayest not find me.’

’I shall, fear not. I am not a magician, but my spirit is in sympathy with thine; we cannot travel far asunder without thou break the bond of union.’

‘Dost understand Ephesian magic?’

’Yea, I understand, but practise not. Ere long it shall be shaken to its very roots.’

‘Thou speakest as one with authority.’

’I do. Go in peace, and forget not the aged man who promises to reveal the truth to thee. Farewell!’

And as the stranger moved slowly away with downcast head and thoughtful mien, Chios felt as if a thick darkness surrounded him. Even Saronia faded from his mind before the burning words of that man. Chios perceived that the new teacher possessed immense spiritual and intellectual power, and felt his own weakness. He knew the sayings he had heard were but the outriders of a mighty army; that, in fact, this man had treated him as if he were a child. Who could he be? And whence came the great storehouse of wisdom which lay behind that impressive brow? From whence came the influence with which he spoke? His voice was low, but every word struck home and flashed forth strong conviction. Was he a god in disguise? Was he one of the gods come down to witness the festivities of the great goddess Diana?

’No, no; I believe not those vain imaginings. I will wait and wish for the time to meet again this great spirit. I will sit at his feet and learn, and perchance receive light and perhaps rest. Certainly I require it. Creed of my own I have not, or believe not what I have. Saronia’s love can never be mine. Truth and love I must obtain. Truth this man offers me, and a promise of love from the God of Love. If thus it comes to pass, I will live well and move onward to the great Dream City, and stand upon the diamond floorway which leads to the altar steps of the Father God.’

By this time the great procession had moved around the south of Mount Pion, and was returning towards the Temple by way of the Serapion.

Slowly it went with majestic tread, passing by the harbour, and sailors on the ships bowed down in lowly adoration.