al and other fuel which
form the source of the mechanical power and commercial greatness of
northern and western nations shall have been exhausted, a method of
directly utilising solar radiation may be discovered. And if so, then
the seat of empire will be transferred to parts of the earth that are
now burnt up by the intense heat of the sun, but which then will be
the most valuable of all possessions. The vast solar radiance now
wasted on the furnace-like shores of the Red Sea will be stored up as
a source of mechanical power. The commerce of the West will once more
return to the East where it began; and the whole region will be
repeopled with the life that swarmed there in the best days of old
Egypt. But under that new civilisation there will be no return of the
old religion of the obelisks; for men will no longer worship the sun
as a god, but will use him for the common purposes of life, as a
slave.

After having thus passed in review so many noble obelisks, a mere
tithe of what once existed, the conviction is deepened in our minds
that no nation had ever devoted so much time, treasure, and skill to
the service of religion as the Egyptian. While the Jews had only one
tabernacle and one temple, every city in Egypt--and no country had so
many great cities--had its magnificent temple and its hosts of
obelisks. The spoils of the whole world were devoted to their
construction; a third of the produce of the whole land of Egypt was
spent in their maintenance. The daily life of the people was moulded
entirely upon the religion of these temples and obelisks; their art
and their literature were inspired by it. It organised their society;
it built up their empire; and it was the salt which for more than
three thousand years conserved a civilisation which has been the
marvel and the mystery of every succeeding age. Surely the Light which
lighteth every man that cometh into the world, shone on those who were
thus fervently stretching the tendrils of their souls to its dawning
in the East, who raised these obelisks as symbols of the glorious and
beneficent sunlight of the world.

CHAPTER VII

THE PAINTED TOMB AT VEII

Rome after a season becomes oppressive. Your capacity of enjoyment is
exhausted. The atmosphere of excitement in which you live, owing to
the number, variety, and transcendent interest of the sights that have
to be seen, wears out the nervous system, and you have an ardent
desire for a little respite an