"Nephew of Constantine, you have not improved upon your ancestors.
Miracles were not necessary to the faith of Socrates!"
X
At the stroke of midnight, in the vestibule leading to the great hall
of the mysteries, Julian flung off his novice's robe. The sacrificial
mystagogues, initiators into the pagan ceremonial, then clothed him
anew in their own priestly tunic, woven of threads of papyrus. A
palm-branch was put into his hand, and his feet were left bare. He was
then led up a long low hall, the vaults of which were supported by a
double row of bronze Corinthian columns. Each column, formed of two
serpents entwined, bore two incense-burners on lofty and slender
branching stands, whence rose thin tongues of flame. Dense vapour
filled the hall. At its end glittered two winged golden bulls,
propping a splendid throne, on which was seated, arrayed in a long
black tunic powdered thick with emeralds and carbuncles, and in
demeanour like a god, the greatest hierophant of all, Maximus of
Ephesus.
The slow reverberant voice of a temple slave announced the opening of
the mysteries--
"If any impious, or Christian, or Epicurean be present in this
assembly, let him go forth!"
Instructed in advance as to the necessary responses, Julian pronounced
the words--
"Let the Christians go forth!"