not great .... yet .... he knew not what? Surely they had great
souls and noble thoughts in them! Surely there was something
godlike in being able to create such things! Not for themselves
alone, too; but for a nation--for generations yet unborn .... And
there was the sea .... and beyond it, nations of men innumerable
.... His imagination was dizzy with thinking of them. Were they
all doomed--lost? .... Had God no love for them?

At last, recovering himself, he recollected his errand, and again
asked his way to the archbishop's house.

'This way, O youthful nonentity!' answered the little man, leading
the way round the great front of the Caesareum, at the foot of the
obelisks.

Philammon's eye fell on some new masonry in the pediment, ornamented
with Christian symbols.

'How? Is this a church?'

'It is the Caesareum. It has become temporarily a church. The
immortal gods have, for the time being, condescended to waive their
rights; but it is the Caesareum, nevertheless. This way; down this
street to the right. There,' said he, pointing to a doorway in the
side of the Museum, 'is the last haunt of the Muses--the lecture-
room of Hypatia, the school of my unworthiness. And here,' stopping
at the door of a splendid house on the opposite side of the street,
'is the residence of that blest favourite of Athene--Neith, as the
barbarians of Egypt would denominate the goddess--we men of
Macedonia retain the time-honoured Grecian nomenclature .... You