ddress, which was
greeted with decorous applause, and the hall was emptied in a moment.

We visited other chapels where the same sort of thing was going on in
other subjects. It all produced in me a sort of stupefaction, both at
the amazing knowledge involved, and in the essential futility of it all.

Before we left the building we went up to the statue, which represented
a female figure, looking upwards, with a pure and delicate beauty of
form and gesture that was inexpressibly and coldly lovely.

We went out in silence, which seemed to be the rule of the place.

When we came away from the building we were accosted by a very grave and
courteous person, who said that he perceived that we were strangers, and
asked if he could be of any service to us, and whether we proposed to
make a stay of any duration. Amroth thanked him, and said smilingly that
we were only passing through. The gentleman said that it was a pity,
because there was much of interest to hear. "In this place," he said
with a deprecating gesture, "we grudge every hour that is not devoted to
thought." He went on to inquire if we were following any particular line
of study, and as our answers were unsatisfactory, he said that we could
not do better than begin by attending the school of literature. "I
observed," he said, "that you were listening to our Professor, Sylvanus,
with attention. He is devoting himself to the development of poetical
form. It is a rich subject. It has generally been believed that poets
work by a sort of native inspiration, and that the poetic gift is a sort
of heightening of temperament. But Sylvanus has proved--I think I may go
so far as to say this--that this is all pure fancy, and what is worse,
unsound fancy. It is all merely a matter of heredity, and the apparent
accidents on which poetical expression depends can be analysed exactly
and precisely into the most commonplace and simple elements. It is only
a question of proportion. Now we who value clearness of mind above
everything, find this a very refreshing thought. The real crown and sum
of human achievement, in the intellectual domain, is to see things
clearly and exactly, and upon that clearness all progress depends. We
have disposed by this time of most illusions; and the same scientific
method is being strenuously applied to all other processes of human
endeavour. It is even hinted that Sylvanus has practically proved that
the imaginative element in literature is purely a