“And yet—­” went on Sah-luma thoughtfully,—­“the well-instructed know through our scientists and astronomers (many of whom are now languishing in prison for the boldness of their researches and discoveries) that the Sun is no divinity at all, hut simply a huge planet,—­a dense body surrounded by a luminous, flame-darting atmosphere,—­neither self-acting nor omnipotent, but only one of many similar orbs moving in strict obedience to fixed mathematical laws.  Nevertheless this knowledge is wisely kept back as much as possible from the multitude,—­for, were science to unveil her marvels too openly to semi-educated and vulgarly constituted minds, the result would be, first Atheism, next Republicanism, and finally Anarchy and Ruin.  If these evils,—­which like birds of prey continually hover about all great kingdoms,—­are to be averted, we must, for the welfare of the country and people, hold fast to some stated form and outward observance of religious belief.”

He paused.  Theos gave him a quick, searching glance.

“Even if such a belief should have no shadow of a true foundation?” he inquired—­“Can it be well for men to cling superstitiously to a false doctrine?”

Sah-luma appeared to consider this question in his own mind for some minutes before replying.

“My friend, it is difficult to decide what is false and what is true—­“he said at last with a little shrug of his shoulders—­“But I think that even a false religion is better for the masses than none at all.  Men are closely allied to brutes, . . if the moral sense ceases to restrain them they at once leap the boundary line and give as much rein to their desires and appetites as the hyenas and tigers.  And in some natures the moral sense is only kept alive by fear,—­fear of offending some despotic, invisible Force that pervades the Universe, and whose chief and most terrible attribute is not so much creative as destructive power.  To propitiate and pacify an unseen Supreme Destroyer is the aim of all religions,—­ and it is for this reason we add to our worship of the Sun that of the White Serpent, Nagaya the Mediator.  Nagaya is the favorite object of the people’s adoration,—­they may forget to pay their vows to the Sun, but never to Nagaya, who is looked upon as the emblem of Eternal Wisdom, the only pleader whose persuasions avail to soften the tyrannic humor of the Invincible Devourer of all things.  We know how men hate Wisdom and cannot endure to be instructed, and yet they prostrate themselves in abject crowds before Wisdom’s symbol every day in the Sacred Temple yonder,—­ though I much doubt whether such constant devotional attendance is not more for the sake of Lysia than the Deified Worm!”

He laughed with a little undercurrent of scorn in his laughter,—­ and Theos saw as it were, the lightning of an angry or disdainful thought flashing through the sombre splendor of his eyes.

“And Lysia is..—?” began Theos suggestively.