this world's temples.

Since the beginning of time, when man first emerged amongst
the beasts, our Lord the Sun has always been his chiefest God, and
legend says that He raised this circle of stones Himself to be a
place where votaries should offer Him worship. It is the fashion
amongst us moderns not to take these old tales in a too literal
sense, but for myself, this one satisfies me. By our wits we can
lift blocks weighing six hundred men, and set them as the capstones
of our pyramids. But to uprear the stones of that great circle
would be beyond all our art, and much more would it be impossible
to-day, to transport them from their distant quarries across the
rugged mountains.

There were nine-and-forty of the stones, alternating with
spaces, and set in an accurate circle, and across the tops of them
other stones were set, equally huge. The stones were undressed and
rugged; but the huge massiveness of them impressed the eye more
than all the temples and daintily tooled pyramids of our wondrous
city. And in the centre of the circle was that still greater stone
which formed the altar, and round which was carved, in the rude
chiselling of the ancients, the snake and the outstretched hand.

The crowd which bore me on came to a standstill before the
circle of stones. To trespass beyond this is death for the common
people; and for myself, although I had the right of entrance, I
chose to stay where I was for the present, unnoticed amongst the
mob, and wait upon events.

For long enough we stood there, our Lord the Sun burning high