devout Greeks and Romans as well as by Egyptians. Each nation regarded
the god to whom the temple was dedicated and whose statue of mingled
marble and silver and gold was there enshrined, as being the chief of
all its gods—the Egyptians calling it Osiris, the Greeks Zeus, and the
Romans Jupiter. For some reason, of late years, this statue had been kept
in a dark room, and was seldom, if ever, shown to the people at large.
They worshipped without the presence of any visible symbol of deity.
The priests were numerous and of the highest rank. The chief of all was
primate of all Egypt.
To its religious character the Serapeum added that of an institution
of learning. Its priests had among their own people the reputation for
wisdom which belonged to the ancient Egyptian priesthood among all
nations—and not without reason. Their priestly duties being light, they
spent much time in studying the sciences and philosophies as then known,
and in training young priests to the same. In addition, the more eminent
among them taught on certain topics in the Alexandrian School. They were
recognized by the Ptolemies, and afterward by the emperors, as in all
respects peers of the teachers located at the Museum.
Indeed, among people religiously inclined their standing was altogether
superior to that of the secular professors. They were far more sober and
practical in their teachings. They more boldly recognized religion and
taught on lines parallel with it. They had stricter notions of what could
properly be called science and philosophy. A few facts blown up into
prettily colored bubbles, and then tossed into the air on exhibition,
and then collapsing, and then succeeded by another output of pretty
emptinesses, and this by another, and so on—such were the substance and
history of the better part of the ever-changing teaching of the Museum.
The worse part had no foundation in facts at all. In fact, facts were
scorned. They were vulgar. The lofty name of wisdom should be given only
to great general intuitions and the logical deductions from them. And as
the teachers were by no means careful in either their premises or their
processes, their conclusions were apt to be worthless when they were not
pernicious. In short, the Museum was the child of Athens and the mother
of Germany.
Accordingly, many of the noblest families in the neighboring countries
turned their faces toward the Serapeum. They were disgusted at the
laborious trifling. They were alarmed at the decay of faith. If their
sons could not have something that deserved to be called knowledge, and
knowledge without impiety and all the terrors, they did not want them
to have it at all. But if they could have it thoroughly leavened with
religious ideas—why, they would welcome it, be very glad of it, pour out
for it their shekels or sestertii or staters freely. Such people found
what they wanted in the priest-teachers of the Serapeum; and said to
themselves that if religion is the supreme wisdom then are the ministers
of religion the supreme professors.
All this Cimon recalled and spoke of when he found himself in the
neighborhood of the temple. And he proposed that Aleph should matriculate
there instead of at the Museum—as being the nearer and more conservative
branch of the University, as well as more remote from the Roman
headquarters.
“I do not think,” said he, “that you will need to confine yourself very
closely to the routine of lectures. Many of the more advanced students
do not. You are already familiar through me with the main subjects
discussed in both the Athenian and Alexandrian Schools: and I do not
imagine that you will hear much that is new; only you will hear the old
said in a new way, with new illustrations and personal modifications,
which is not without its advantage to a young man. And you will have
what, perhaps, is a still greater advantage, that of mingling with
and studying the leading young men of the West. As to the present
preliminaries for admission to the School, you had better apply to Seti
for information.”
“And why not ask his advice, also,” said Aleph, “as to how you had better
proceed in the affair of Malus? It would be a safe thing to do. The
priest is not in love with the trader.”
“Perhaps,” returned the Greek, “this is the best thing to be done. Still
I feel reluctant to do it—at least till I have proved it necessary. It is
a good rule not to call on others to help you till you have tried to help
yourself. We must spare our friends as much as possible. And I do not see
that any harm can be done by my going directly to the custom house and
inquiring on what terms abstracts from the records can be made, or by
my going to leading dealers and asking how the prices of certain goods
have ruled in Alexandria for a term of years. Let me cautiously feel my
way about to-day by myself: by the evening I shall be better able to see
whether we need to call in help from outside.”
As soon as Cimon had gone, Aleph inquired of the landlord at what part
of the temple he should present himself. Climbing successive flights of
steps that began almost at the khan, he came to the broad carriage-way
of which we have spoken. As yet very few people could be seen upon
it—none who seemed moving to the temple. This led him to think that very
likely he was yet too early for the temple habits, and had better linger
a little before seeking admittance. So he sat down on one of the stone
seats, placed at intervals by the wayside for the convenience of the
weary and the idle, and proceeded to study at his leisure the stately
façade of the temple. While thus engaged he heard voices just back of the
wall against which he was leaning.
A voice laughed heartily.
“Have you been at your cups so early” said another voice testily. “I
should have thought that these leeks and onions would set you to crying.
That is what they do to me.”
“I couldn’t cry if I were up to my eyes in the onions of Nauticratis,”
said the other. “Oh, it was such a capital thing! Why, the very gods
themselves must be shaking with laughter—at least our Egyptian gods.”
“Who ever heard of an Egyptian god laughing? Our deities never did that
in the best days of the country. They who were as grim as fate when
Thebes was in its glory are not likely to smile now when Thebes is dead,
and a Roman garrison is in Alexandria, and a Roman Governor in the palace
of Seti.”
“That is just it—now you are coming to the point!” cried the other; “it
is just _because_ there is a Roman garrison in Alexandria and a Roman
Proprætor in the ancestral palace of Seti that our gods, calm and grave
as they generally are, must have had a merry time of it yesterday.”
“There, take that, you provoking Sphinx!” (and Aleph heard something
strike against the wall). “If you do not expound your riddle right away
it will be, not two onions that your empty head will get, but a whole
basket of them.”
“Do you pretend to say that you have not heard what took place yesterday
at the Diapleuston? Why, the whole city is ringing with it—at least the
Jewish Quarter. The Roman Quarter will be silent enough, I warrant.”
“Have heard nothing. Was in Canopus yesterday—came back before people
were stirring this morning. What is it? Out with it, man!”
“An you be a true son of Egypt, now open your ears and mouth! Yesterday
the Governor took a hundred soldiers and tried to make the Jews at the
Diapleuston worship an image of the emperor. A magnificent young man
in shining armor suddenly appeared on the scene, disarmed Flaccus, and
encouraged the Jews to give the whole party a good drubbing. Which they
did. The Romans were pommelled within an inch of their lives, then
tumbled headlong into the street, and then chased on a full run quite
to Bruchium. Gods! what a treat to see Flaccus run! I would have given
ten years of my life to see it. And now it is said that Alexander,
the favorite banker of the emperor, and heavier with him than all the
pyramids put together, has just written to the governor demanding an
apology for his behavior; and threatening to report him to the emperor.”
“Give us your fist, old fellow! Here goes my cap—to the moon, for aught
I care. This _is_ good news, capital news, news fit for the gods,
news—almost too good to be true! But it _ought_ to be true, and so true
it must be. Let the gods laugh till the skies crack. To see the Romans
soundly thrashed and running away with their tails between their legs
must have been a treat for heaven and earth. I could give that young man
a chaplet—who is he?”
“Just what everybody is asking.”
“And just what, in my opinion, nobody will ever find out; for he must
have been at once rapturously spirited off by the celestials to their own
country for the good service done us. Perhaps he was a celestial to begin
with.”
“That reminds me that I did hear some Jews debating whether he might not
be the Wonderful Deliverer whom they are expecting.”
Was there any danger that Aleph would be unduly exalted in his own
estimation by such a very complimentary account of himself? Perhaps
he was saved from this peril by the several large exaggerations of
the story. What more natural than for him to say, “And I, too, am an
exaggeration!”
At any rate, he wasted no time in arguing the matter; for he now noticed
that the postern at the side of the great gate was being opened to a
comer. So he rose, advanced leisurely to the postern, and plied the
knocker which hung from a small window above. The door opened. He told
the porter that he wished to see the priest Seti.
“I suppose you mean the _high_-priest Seti!” said the man with dignity.
“Very possibly,” said Aleph. “Is there here more than one priest of that
name?”
“I know of no other.”
“Then I wish to see the _high_-priest Seti. Please have him informed that
Aleph the Chaldean wishes to see him.”
The porter glanced outside, as if to see whether there was any fine
equipage, with servants, before the great gateway: then said:
“You probably will not be able to see him this morning. I doubt if he
would see the prefect of the city.”
“But I am _not_ the prefect—as you have just seen. I am a visitor more
likely to be acceptable to the high-priest: for I come by his express
invitation. So I will enter and stay in the hall till an answer comes to
my message”—and he advanced on the man with so decisive and commanding an
air that he gave way and admitted him.
“Now if you will send my message at once, you will do no more than your
duty,” said Aleph coolly.
So a servant was sent off; who after a few moments returned and, with an
air of great respect, said, “The high-priest will see you. I will conduct
you to him.” But he was spared the trouble, for just then Seti himself
appeared, received his visitor in a way that astonished the servants, and
conducted him to his own private rooms.
“You see,” said the young man with that modesty and deference of manner
that are so graceful and winning in the young toward age and station,
“that I have very soon availed myself of your permission to call upon
you. It is the wish of my father that I should, while in Alexandria,
hear for myself the scholars of the west; though the Greek preceptor,
who has conducted my education and whom you have seen, has already made
me acquainted in a general way with the western literature and learning
as it was taught in his youth, both here and at Athens. And, as I am
told that the Serapeum stands for a branch of the Alexandrian School, I
wish to join it here; and have come to you to learn in what way I may do
so, and become entitled to such privileges and immunities as membership
confers.”
“I am glad that you propose doing this,” returned the high-priest;
“especially because I have heard from Alexander of the events of
yesterday. No doubt there is danger abroad; but if any class among us is
specially exempt from espial and interference by the civil and military
authorities it is that of the students. So we will have you booked
without delay. Where are you now lodged?”
On hearing of the transfer to his own neighborhood, Seti added:
“That is just what I was about to propose. The Romans have less to do
with this part of the city than with any other. Neither my son nor myself
anticipate any trouble from the authorities on account of what occurred
yesterday. They probably will disavow all connection with it, on account
of my son’s influence at Rome. At the same time they, no doubt, are in
full sympathy with the rascals and will let them off without punishment,
if not with secret commendation. This everybody is sure of—I mean
everybody who knows that the leader in the affair was the son of Flaccus.
Your chief danger will be from that reprobate. After the lessons he has
had he is not likely to attack you in front; but you will need to be on
your guard against all mean and dishonorable ways of attack. He is the
greatest scoundrel in Alexandria—after his father and Malus, who have all
his vices and hypocrisy in addition. But come, let us lose no time in
matriculating.”
Seti then led the way to a large hall with a platform and seats.
“This,” said he, “is our chief lecture-room; and here some of the
professors who live and lecture at the Museum come at stated times to
repeat their lectures. This door opens into the tower from the top of
which our astronomers observe the stars; and sometimes other things
nearer home, as, for example, the flight and pursuit yesterday along
the street of Canopus. The doors on the other three sides open into the
library with its 500,000 different works on papyrus and parchment. Let us
pass into it.”
Aleph now found himself in a room, or rather a suite of rooms, lighted
wholly from above, whose sides were shining with the copper cylinders
which contained the literary treasures of many lands and centuries.
What would our modern bibliopoles not give for the same privilege? At
central tables and in recesses were scholars poring over open rolls—also
professional scribes copying manuscripts with careful exactness and a
beauty of result wonderful to see. Seti led his companion freely within
the bronze railing that fenced the collection from the general public;
taking down and exhibiting some notably rare or beautiful rolls—among
others the entire works of Berosus and Manetho and Sanconiathon, of
which, unfortunately, we now have only a few fragments.
At length they stopped before a small open office, within which sat a
uniformed official. He rose respectfully. Seti asked for the University
register.
“Write your name, as you wish it to be known, here,” he said, pointing to
a page, “and then pay to this man as initiation fee one gold _stater_.
Then when I have written my name as sponsor over against yours on the
opposite page, you will be a member of the University and entitled to
wear its badge conspicuously on your tunic—also, whenever you please,
the University toga. But this latter is usually reserved for special
occasions, and can be procured at your leisure.”
Aleph followed directions and received a large gold badge, which he
was told was only one _stater_ additional. Seti himself fastened it
conspicuously on the tunic of the new student. He also received from
the registrar a syllabus of the lectures for many weeks at both the
Serapeum and Museum. Glancing it over he noticed that Seti was one of the
lecturers and Philo another—the one on history and ethical philosophy,
the other on Plato and comparative religions.
“Now,” said Seti, as they were returning through the lecture room, “I
have hurried you through these formalities for two reasons—one of which
is that I wish you to have as soon as possible the benefit of being a
recognized member of our University. The other reason is that I wish
to get you to do me a favor. Just before you came I had a message from
Rachel, my granddaughter, that the Greek leech, who is employed for her
nurse, has gone back to his old treatment and that the woman is again
rapidly sinking. It seems that the husband not merely supports the leech
in his course, but absolutely requires it of him. I suspect that the
brute wants to get rid of her. Now, I have an important engagement this
morning, which will prevent my going personally to look after the case at
the time she mentions—I see by this clepsydra that the time is near—and
as the matter is urgent I could wish to have you go in my stead and deal
with both the husband and the leech as you may find occasion in order
to save the woman’s life. Can you do me this favor? I think there is no
lecture to-day.”
“Certainly,” said Aleph, “I will do what I can, for your treatment is
that of my own country; though, I confess, I do not at present see how I
am to enforce your wishes in case the leech and the husband should both
prove obstinate.”
“That is a difficulty,” returned the Egyptian; “but I must leave you to
solve it as you best can. This will be no disadvantage to your education.
The young man who has learned how to deal with difficult men in difficult
circumstances has graduated at a higher university than teaches in the
Serapeum and Museum. So take a lesson in the university of human nature;
and, perhaps, when I join you, which will be as soon as my business will
allow, you can reproduce the lesson for me.”
Aleph could not well help noticing the change that had come over the
manners of the porter as Seti and himself approached the postern in close
conversation. The man had exchanged impudence for obsequiousness. He was
all deference and humbleness. His bow was so low, as he set the postern
wide open, that one might reasonably have feared that the hinge in his
back had entirely given way in favor of a prostration. Has it not been
noticed in all ages that impudence and servility are near of kin to each
other and are never far apart?
In due time Aleph presented himself at the house of the sick woman. The
same forbidding looking man who had acted as porter before now answered
to his knock, but only opened the door a hand breadth.
After waiting a moment for an invitation to enter, which he did not get,
the young man said, “Will you not permit me to enter?”
“What is your business?” demanded the fellow in a surly tone, making the
opening of the door still less.
“A friendly one,” said Aleph. “I will explain it more fully when I have
entered and delivered to you—that is, if you are the husband of the sick
woman—some money which I have for you.”
The word money seemed to throw a shade of uncertainty into the man’s
face. At length he said: “I am her husband. Why cannot you deliver the
money to me here?”
“Of course I can,” said Aleph. “The only difficulty lies in my
disposition. The gold is in my pouch, my arm is long enough to reach
it, and your hand is near enough to take it: but you see, man, it does
not suit my humor to give gold to a man who is rude enough to shut his
door in my face. I hardly think you yourself would be liberal under like
circumstances—would you?”
“My wife is very sick—it may be dying. Your coming in will disturb her.”
“Dying people are not apt to be disturbed by a step and voice as light
as mine will be. Besides, if the woman is dying you will need the gold
all the more. Death and burial in Alexandria must be expensive. I suppose
there are some people here who cannot afford to die.”
“Well,” said the man, slowly and after a pause, “you can come in; but I
cannot let you remain but a few moments.”
Aleph promptly stepped in as the door opened; and, while the man was
closing and fastening it, made his way to the room he had before visited.
As before, the air was close and almost stifling. As before, the woman
lay on the bed, in about the same death-like state. And, as before,
Rachel sat behind her, supporting her head and caressing it with her
hand—her own face a picture of lovely distress. A man at a table was,
apparently, preparing some medicines. He was not a bad looking man,
save as a certain pretentious and stubborn look is a bad one on a face
somewhat stony and unsympathetic. One would say that his sympathy with
his patients would not be likely to interfere with his health or his
meals. His whole bearing seemed to say, “I am a leech, and I understand
my business;” and yet his dress was too poor to suggest the idea of a
prosperous business. All this the observant eye of the young man took in
at a glance.
Rachel looked up. A look of glad recognition sprang into every feature,
but especially into her welcoming eyes. They smiled on him through tears.
He bowed profoundly in acknowledgment of the silent greeting; and,
advancing to her, said in a low voice, “From your grandfather.” Facing
about on the husband, who had closely followed him, he put a piece of
gold in his hand, saying as he did so, “For the sick woman.”
Then turning to the leech, he said in a courteous tone:
“I think I am speaking to the physician in charge of this patient. If
so, will he allow me a few words, with him in private? Perhaps we can
step out into this little court for a few moments”—and he at once quietly
moved to the door leading to the back court, opened it, and passed out
without looking behind him—passed to the farther side of the inclosure,
as if sure of being followed. He _was_ followed, though with some
backwardness.
“I wish,” said Aleph, as he turned and confronted the leech, “to confer
with you about this poor woman. I come from some of her friends. Perhaps
you know who these friends are?”
“Is not her husband a friend?”
“He certainly ought to be. As to whether he is, I have my doubts. At all
events he is not one of the friends of whom I speak and from whom I come.
Do you know who that young lady yonder is?”
“The daughter of Alexander, the great Jewish Banker.”
“Do you know who Seti is?”
“He is the Egyptian high-priest and primate.”
“Well, these are the friends in whose behalf I have come and for whom I
speak. They wish to save this woman, and believe it can be done by the
treatment which was so successful for the short time it was tried. Will
you tell me why it was discontinued?”
“Because it was contrary to all the medical rules; but mainly because the
man who employs me insisted on a return to the old treatment.”
“You mean the husband of the sick woman?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure that your employer is able and disposed to pay you for your
services?”
“He evidently is poor; but he says that he has rich friends who can be
depended on for all expenses. This seems to be true; for the house has
been lavishly supplied for the last few days with every possible comfort
by some friends.”
“Whom do you suppose these friends to be?”
“The family of Alexander the Alabarch.”
“Certainly these are friends worth having,” said Aleph with emphasis;
“and no doubt they can be depended on to meet all expenses—if they will
promise as much. And this they are ready to do, and more, provided you
will meet their wishes in certain respects.”
“What do they wish?” said the leech after quite a pause.
“That you will take them for employer instead of this vagabond; accept
such compensation for your professional services as they are accustomed
to pay; and then, in the interest of science, suspend for a little your
way of treating this case in favor of the one you have just abandoned. We
will assume all responsibilities. If the experiment does not work well,
you can return to the old treatment. You had better have the patronage
of the Alabarch and the Egyptian primate than that of this scoundrel—for
such he is, unless his looks greatly belie him.”
“I have no very high opinion of him, I confess,” said the leech. “I have
seen more tender husbands than he; and the woman’s talk about him in her
delirium is far from complimentary. But if we change the treatment he
will be troublesome. He was very violent when he discovered the first
change.”
“Did he tell you by whose authority it was made?”
“He only said that a strange man had been meddling with what did not
concern him.”
“Then he did not tell you that this meddler was Seti?”
“Certainly not.”
“Nor did the nurse?”
“No—but she is mortally afraid of the man, and that may have kept her
silent.”
“Nor did the young lady?”
“No: but she had some difficulty in getting admission to the house, as
I think you had; and it is possible that the man would not admit her
till she had promised not to interfere, and had sent away her servants.
Indeed, I thought I overheard as much.”
“No doubt the fellow will be troublesome. The only thing to be done is to
keep such a force here as will be able to control him. As long as we are
here we can do this; but when we leave we must leave behind others who
will make our places good. I think I can arrange for this.... Now that we
have come to an understanding, let us go in; but do you take the lead, as
is fitting, in making the changes.”
When they re-entered the room they found the man standing where they had
left him—with anything but amiability in his face.