s back to a time when
man was coeval with the stone age, the mammoth and the woolly rhinoceros.
But, except these, we have added no new canon or method to the science of
historical criticism. Across the drear waste of a thousand years the
Greek and the modern spirit join hands.

In the torch race which the Greek boys ran from the Cerameician field of
death to the home of the goddess of Wisdom, not merely he who first
reached the goal but he also who first started with the torch aflame
received a prize. In the Lampadephoria of civilisation and free thought
let us not forget to render due meed of honour to those who first lit
that sacred flame, the increasing splendour of which lights our footsteps
to the far-off divine event of the attainment of perfect truth.

LA SAINTE COURTISANE; OR, THE WOMAN COVERED WITH JEWELS

The scene represents a corner of a valley in the Thebaid. On the right
hand of the stage is a cavern. In front of the cavern stands a great
crucifix.

On the left [sand dunes].

The sky is blue like the inside of a cup of lapis lazuli. The hills are
of red sand. Here and there on the hills there are clumps of thorns.

FIRST MAN. Who is she? She makes me afraid. She has a purple cloak and
her hair is like threads of gold. I think she must be the daughter of
the Emperor. I have heard the boatmen say that the Emperor has a
daughter who wears a cloak of purple.

SECOND MAN. She has birds' wings upon her sandals, and her tunic is of
the colour of green corn. It is like corn in spring when she stands
still. It is like young corn troubled by the shadows of hawks when she
moves. The pearls on her tunic are like many moons.

FIRST MAN. They are like the moons one sees in the water when the wind
blows from the hills.

SECOND MAN. I think she is one of the gods. I think she comes from
Nubia.

FIRST MAN. I am sure she is the daughter of the Emperor. Her nails are
stained with henna. They are like the petals of a rose. She has come
here to weep for Adonis.

SECOND MAN. She is one of the gods. I do not know why she has left her
temple. The gods should not leave their temples. If she speaks to us
let us not answer and she will pass by.

FIRST MAN. She will not speak to us. She is the daughter of the
Emperor.

MYRRHINA. Dwells he not here, the beautiful young hermit, he who will
not look on the face of woman?

FIRST MAN. Of a truth it is here the hermit dwells.

MYRR