appears to me the very same when I actually meet it. Thus Alexandria is
not unknown to me, because my Genius has seen it in his flights. It has
learnt and done much, both in me and for me; a hundred times, face to
face with my own finished works I have asked myself: 'Is it possible
that you--Hadrian--your mother's son-can have achieved this? What then
is the mysterious power that aided you to do it?' Now I also recognize
it, and can see it work in others. The man in whom it dwells soon excels
his fellows, and it is most manifest in artists. Or is it that mere
common men become great artists simply because the Genius selects them as
his temple to dwell in? Do you follow me, boy?"

"Not altogether," replied Antinous, and his large eyes which had sparkled
brightly so long as he gazed with the Emperor on the city, were now cast
down and fixed wearily on the ground. "Do not be angry with me, my Lord,
but I shall never understand such things as these, for there is no man
with whom your Genius, as you term it, has less concern than with me.
Thoughts of my own have I none, and it is difficult to me to follow the
thoughts of others; indeed I should like to know how I am ever to do
anything right. When I want to work, to work something out, no Daimon
helps my soul; no--it feels quite helpless, and drifts into dreaminess.
And if I ever do complete anything, I am obliged to own to myself that I
certainly might have been able to do it better."

"Self-knowledge," laughed Hadrian, "is the climax of wisdom. A man has
done something if he has only added a 'thing of beauty' to the joys of a
friend's imagination; what others do by hard work you do by mere
existence. Be quiet, Argus!" For, while he was speaking, the hound had
risen, and had gone snarling to the door. In spite of his master's
orders he broke into a loud bark when he heard a steady knock at the
door. Hadrian looked round in bewilderment, and asked: "Where is