Wewatchthesundescend.Butweturnalsotosee，behindus，theruinsinthisthetraditionalmomentoftheirapotheosis.Thebes，theimmensetown—mummy，seemsallatoncetobeablaze——asifitsoldstoneswereablestilltoburn;allitsblocks，fallenorupright，appeartohavebeensuddenlymaderuddybytheglowoffire.
Onthisside，too，theviewembracesgreatpeacefuldistances.Pastthelastpylons，andbeyondthecrumblingrampartsthecountry，downtherebehindthetown，presentsthesameappearanceasthatwewerefacingamomentbefore.Thesamecornfields，thesamewoodsofdate—
trees，thatmakeagirdleofgreenpalmsaroundtheruins.And，rightinthebackground，achainofmountainsislitupandglowswithavividcoralcolour.ItisthechainoftheArabiandesert，lyingparalleltothatofLibya，alongthewholelengthoftheNileValley——
whichisthusguardedonrightandleftbystonesandsandstretchedoutinprofoundsolitudes.
Inallthesurroundingcountrywhichwecommandfromthisspotthereisnoindicationofthepresentday;onlyhereandthere，amongstthepalm—trees，thevillagesofthefieldlabourers，whosehousesofdriedearthcanscarcelyhavechangedsincethedaysofthePharaohs.Ourcontemporarydesecratorshaveuptillnowrespectedtheinfinitedesuetudeoftheplace，and，forthetouristswhobegintohauntit，nooneyethasdaredtobuildahotel.
Slowlythesundescends;andbehindusthegranitesofthetown—mummyseemtoburnmoreandmore.Itistruethataslightshadowofawarmertint，anamaranthviolet，beginstoencroachuponthelowerparts，spreadingalongtheavenuesandovertheopenspaces.Buteverythingthatrisesintothesky——thefriezesofthetemples，thecapitalsofthecolumns，thesharppointsoftheobelisks——arestillredasglowingembers.Theseallbecomeimbuedwithlightandcontinuetoglowandshedarosyilluminationuntiltheendofthetwilight.
Itisaglorioushour，evenfortheolddustofEgypt，whichfillstheaireternally，withoutdetractingatallfromitswonderfulclearness.
Itsavoursofspices，oftheBedouin，ofthebitumenofthesarcophagus.AndherenowitisplayingtheroleofthosepowdersofdifferentshadesofgoldwhichtheJapaneseuseforthebackgroundsoftheirlacqueredlandscapes.Itrevealsitselfeverywhere，closetoandonthehorizon，modifyingatitspleasurethecolourofthings，andgivingthemakindofmetalliclustre.Thephantasyofitschangesisunimaginable.Eveninthedistancesofthecountryside，itisbusyindicatingbylittletrailingcloudsofgoldthesmallestpathwaystraversedbytheherds.
AndnowthediscoftheGodofThebeshasdisappearedbehindtheLibyanmountains，afterchangingitslightfromredtoyellowandfromyellowtogreen.
Andthereuponthetourists，judgingthatthedisplayisoverforthenight，commencetodescendandmakereadyfordeparture.Someincarriages，othersondonkeys，theygotorecruitthemselveswiththeelectricityandeleganceofLuxor，theneighbouringtown（winesandspiritsarepaidforasextras，andwedressfordinner）.Andthedustcondescendstomarktheirexodusalsobyalastcloudofgoldbeneaththepalm—treesoftheroad.
Animmediatesolemnitysucceedstotheirdeparture.Abovethemudhousesofthefellahvillagesriseslendercolumnsofsmoke，whichareofaperiwinkle—blueinthemidstofthestillyellowatmosphere.Theytellofthehumblelifeoftheselittlehomesteads，subsistinghere，whereinthebackwardoftheagesweresomanypalacesandsplendours.
Andthefirstbayingsofthewatchdogsannouncealreadythevagueuneasinessoftheeveningsaroundtheruins.Thereisnoonenowwithinthemummy—town，whichseemsallatoncetohavegrownlargerinthesilence.Veryquicklythevioletshadowcoversit，allsavetheextremepointsofitsobelisks，whichkeepstillalittleoftheirrose—colour.Thefeelingcomesoveryouthatasovereignmysteryhastakenpossessionofthetown，asifsomevaguephantomthingshadjustpassedintoit.
CHAPTERXV
THEBESBYNIGHT
Thefeeling，almost，thatyouhavegrownsuddenlysmallerbyenteringthere，thatyouaredwarfedtolessthanhumansize——tosuchanextentdotheproportionsoftheseruinsseemtocrushyou——andtheillusion，also，thatthelight，insteadofbeingextinguishedwiththeevening，hasonlychangeditscolour，andbecomeblue：thatiswhatoneexperiencesonaclearEgyptiannight，inwalkingbetweenthecolonnadesofthegreattempleatThebes.
Theplaceis，moreover，sosingularandsoterriblethatitsmerenamewouldatoncecastaspelluponthespirit，evenifonewereignorantoftheplaceitself.ThehypostyleofthetempleoftheGodAmen——thatcouldbenootherthingbutone.Forthishallisuniqueintheworld，inthesamewayastheGrottoofFingalandtheHimalayasareunique.
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TowanderabsolutelyaloneatnightinThebesrequiresduringthewinteracertainamountofstratagemandaknowledgeoftheroutineofthetourists.Itisnecessary，firstofall，tochooseanightonwhichthemoonriseslateandthen，havingenteredbeforethecloseoftheday，toescapethenoticeoftheBedouinguardswhoshutthegatesatnightfall.ThushaveIwaitedwiththepatienceofastoneOsiris，tillthegrandtransformationsceneofthesettingofthesunwasplayedoutoncemoreupontheruins.Thebes，which，duringtheday，isalmostanimatebyreasonofthepresenceofthevisitorsandthegangsoffellahswho，singingthewhile，arebusyatthediggingsandtheclearingawayoftherubbish，hasemptieditselflittlebylittle，whiletheblueshadowsweremountingfromthebaseofthemonstroussanctuaries.Iwatchedthepeoplemovinginalongrow，likeatrailofants，towardsthewesterngatebetweenthepylonsofthePtolemies，andthelastofthemhaddisappearedbeforetherosylightdiedawayonthetopmostpointsoftheobelisks.
ItseemedasifthesilenceandthenightarrivedtogetherfrombeyondtheArabiandesert，advancedtogetheracrosstheplain，spreadingoutlikearapidoil—stain;thengainedthetownfromeasttowest，androserapidlyfromthegroundtotheverysummitsofthetemples.Andthismarchofthedarknesswasinfinitelysolemn.
Forthefirstfewmoments，indeed，youmightimaginethatitwasgoingtobeanordinarynightsuchasweknowinourclimate，andasenseofuneasinesstakesholdofyouinthemidstofthisconfusionofenormousstones，whichinthedarknesswouldbecomeaquiteinextricablemaze.Oh！thehorrorofbeinglostinthoseruinsofThebesandnotbeingabletosee！Butintheeventtheairpreserveditstransparencytosuchadegree，andthestarsbegansoontoscintillatesobrightlythatthesurroundingthingscouldbedistinguishedalmostaswellasinthedaytime.
Indeed，nowthatthetimeoftransitionbetweenthedayandnighthaspassed，theeyesgrowaccustomedtothestrange，blue，persistentclearnesssothatyouseemsuddenlytohaveacquiredthepupilsofacat;andtheultimateeffectismerelyasifyousawthroughasmokedglasswhichchangedallthevariousshadesofthisreddish—colouredcountryintooneuniformtintofblue.
Beholdmethen，forsometwoorthreehours，aloneamongthetemplesofthePharaohs.Thetourists，whomthecarriagesanddonkeysareatthismomenttakingbacktothehotelsofLuxor，willnotreturntillverylate，whenthefullmoonwillhaverisenandbesheddingitsclearlightupontheruins.Mypost，whileIwaited，washighupamongtheruinsonthemarginofthesacredLakeofOsiris，thestillandenclosedwaterofwhichisastonishinginthatithasremainedthereforsomanycenturies.Itstillconceals，nodoubt，numberlesstreasuresconfidedtoitinthedaysofslaughtersandpillages，whenthearmiesofthePersianandNubiankingsforcedthethick，surroundingwalls.
Inafewminutes，thousandsofstarsappearatthebottomofthiswater，reflectingsymmetricallytheveritableoneswhichnowscintillateeverywhereintheheavens.Asuddencoldspreadsoverthetown—mummy，whosestones，stillwarmfromtheirexposuretothesun，coolveryrapidlyinthisnocturnalbluewhichenvelopsthemasinashroud.IamfreetowanderwhereIpleasewithoutriskofmeetinganyone，andIbegintodescendbythestepsmadebythefallingofthegraniteblocks，whichhaveformedonallsidesstaircasesasifforgiants.Ontheoverturnedsurfaces，myhandsencounterthedeep，clear—cuthollowsofthehieroglyphs，andsometimesofthoseinevitablepeople，carvedinprofile，whoraisetheirarms，allofthem，andmakesignstooneanother.OnarrivingatthebottomIamreceivedbyarowofstatueswithbatteredfaces，seatedonthrones，andwithouthindranceofanykind，andrecognisingeverythinginthebluetransparencywhichtakestheplaceofday，IcometothegreatavenueofthepalacesofAmen.
Wehavenothingonearthintheleastdegreecomparabletothisavenue，whichpassivemultitudestooknearlythreethousandyearstoconstruct，expending，centuryaftercentury，theirinnumerableenergiesincarryingthesestones，whichourmachinesnowcouldnotmove.Andtheobjectivewasalwaysthesame：toprolongindefinitelytheperspectivesofpylons，colossiandobelisks，continuingalwaysthissamearteryoftemplesandpalacesinthedirectionoftheoldNile——whilethelatter，onthecontrary，recededslowly，fromcenturytocentury，towardsLibya.Itishere，andespeciallyatnight，thatyousufferthefeelingofhavingbeenshrunkentothesizeofapygmy.
Allroundyourisemonolithsmightyasrocks.Youhavetotaketwentypacestopassthebaseofasingleoneofthem.Theyareplacedquiteclosetogether，tooclose，itseems，inviewoftheirenormityandmass.Thereisnotenoughairbetweenthem，andtheclosenessoftheirjuxtapositiondisconcertsyoumore，perhaps，eventhantheirmassiveness.
TheavenuewhichIhavefollowedinaneasterlydirectionabutsonasdisconcertingachaosofgraniteasexistsinThebes——thehallofthefeastsofThothmesIII.Whatkindoffeastswerethey，thatthiskinggavehere，inthisforestofthick—setcolumns，beneaththeseceilings，ofwhichthesmalleststone，ifitfell，wouldcrushtwentymen？Inplacesthefriezes，thecolonnades，whichseemalmostdiaphanousintheair，areoutlinedstillwithaproudmagnificenceinunbrokenalignmentagainstthestar—strewnsky.Elsewherethedestructionisbewildering;fragmentsofcolumns，entablatures，bas—
reliefslieaboutinindescribableconfusion，likealotofscatteredwreckageafteraworld—widetempest.Foritwasnotenoughthatthehandofmanshouldoverturnthesethings.Tremblingsoftheearth，atdifferenttimes，havealsocometoshakethisCyclopspalacewhichthreatenedtobeeternal.Andallthis——whichrepresentssuchanexcessofforce，ofmovement，ofimpulsion，alikeforitserectionasforitsoverthrow——allthisistranquilthisevening，oh！sotranquil，althoughtopplingasifforanimminentdownfall——tranquilforever，onemightsay，congealedbythecoldandbythenight.
Iwaspreparedforsilenceinsuchaplace，butnotforthesoundswhichIcommencetohear.Firstofallanospreysoundstheprelude，abovemyheadandsoclosetomethatitholdsmetremblingthroughoutitslongcry.Thenothervoicesanswerfromthedepthsoftheruins，voicesverydiverse，butallsinister.Someareonlyabletomewontwolong—drawnnotes：someyelplikejackalsroundacemetery，andothersagainimitatethesoundofasteelspringslowlyunwindingitself.Andthisconcertcomesalwaysfromabove.Owls，ospreys，screech—owls，allthedifferentkindsofbirds，withhookedbeaksandroundeyes，andsilkenwingsthatenablethemtoflynoiselessly，havetheirhomesamongstthegranitesmassivelyupheldintheair;andtheyarecelebratingnow，eachafteritsownfashion，thenocturnalfestival.Intermittentcallsbreakupontheair，andlong—drawninfinitelymournfulwailings，thatsometimesswellandsometimesseemtobestrangledandendinakindofsob.Andthen，inspiteofthesonorityofthevaststraightwalls，inspiteoftheechoeswhichprolongthecries，thesilenceobstinatelyreturns.Silence.Thesilenceafterallandbeyondalldoubtisthetruemasteratthishourofthiskingdomatoncecolossal，motionlessandblue——asilencethatseemstobeinfinite，becauseweknowthatthereisnothingaroundtheseruins，nothingbutthelineofthedeadsands，thethresholdofthedeserts.
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Iretracemystepstowardsthewestinthedirectionofthehypostyle，traversingagaintheavenueofmonstroussplendours，imprisonedand，asitwere，dwarfedbetweentherowsofsovereignstones.Thereareobelisksthere，someupright，someoverthrown.OnelikethoseofLuxor，butmuchhigher，remainsintactandraisesitssharppointintothesky;others，lesswellknownintheirexquisitesimplicity，arequiteplainandstraightfrombasetosummit，bearingonlyinreliefgiganticlotusflowers，whoselongclimbingstemsbloomaboveinthehalflightcastbythestars.Thepassagebecomesnarrowerandmoreobscure，anditisnecessarysometimestogropemyway.Andthenagainmyhandsencountertheeverlastinghieroglyphscarvedeverywhere，andsometimesthelegsofacolossusseatedonitsthrone.Thestonesarestillslightlywarm，sofiercehasbeentheheatofthesunduringtheday.Andcertainofthegranites，sohardthatoursteelchiselscouldnotcutthem，havekepttheirpolishdespitethelapseofcenturies，andmyfingersslipintouchingthem.
Thereisnownosound.Themusicofthenightbirdshasceased.I
listeninvain——soattentivelythatIcanhearthebeatingofmyheart.Notasound，noteventhebuzzingofafly.Everythingissilent，everythingisghostly;andinspiteofthepersistentwarmthofthestonestheairgrowscolderandcolder，andonegetstheimpressionthateverythinghereisfrozen——definitely——asinthecoldnessofdeath.
Avastsilencereigns，asilencethathassubsistedforcenturies，onthissamespot，whereformerlyforthreeorfourthousandyearsrosesuchanuproaroflivingmen.Tothinkoftheclamorousmultitudeswhoonceassembledhere，oftheircriesoftriumphandanguish，oftheirdyingagonies.Firstofallthepantingsofthosethousandsofharnessedworkers，exhaustingthemselvesgenerationaftergeneration，undertheburningsun，indraggingandplacingoneabovetheotherthesestones，whoseenormitynowamazesus.Andtheprodigiousfeasts，themusicofthelongharps，theblaresofthebrazentrumpets;theslaughtersandbattleswhenThebeswasthegreatanduniquecapitaloftheworld，anobjectoffearandenvytothekingsofthebarbarianpeopleswhocommencedtoawakeinneighbouringlands;thesymphoniesofsiegeandpillage，indayswhenmenbellowedwiththethroatsofbeasts.Tothinkofallthis，hereonthisground，onanightsocalmandblue！AndthesesamewallsofgranitefromSyene，onwhichmypunyhandsnowrest，tothinkofthebeingswhohavetouchedtheminpassing，whohavefallenbytheirsideinlastsanguinaryconflicts，withoutrubbingeventhepolishfromtheirchangelesssurfaces！
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InowarriveatthehypostyleofthetempleofAmen，andasensationoffearmakesmehesitateatfirstonthethreshold.Tofindhimselfinthedeadofnightbeforesuchaplacemightwellmakeamanfalter.
ItseemslikesomehallforTitans，aremnantoffabulousages，whichhasmaintaineditself，duringitslongduration，byforceofitsverymassiveness，likethemountains.Nothinghumanissovast.Nowhereonearthhavemenconceivedsuchdwellings.Columnsaftercolumns，higherandmoremassivethantowers，followoneanothersoclosely，inanexcessofaccumulation，thattheyproduceafeelingalmostofsuffocation.Theymountintotheclearskyandsustaintheretraversesofstonewhichyouscarcelydaretocontemplate.Onehesitatestoadvance;afeelingcomesoveryouthatyouarebecomeinfinitesimallysmallandaseasytocrushasaninsect.Thesilencegrowspreternaturallysolemn.Thestarsthroughallthegapsinthefearfulceilingsseemtosendtheirscintillationstoyouinanabyss.Itiscoldandclearandblue.
ThecentralbayofthishypostyleisinthesamelineastheroadI
havebeenfollowingsinceIleftthehallofThothmes.Itprolongsandmagnifiesasinanapotheosisthatsamelongavenue，forthegodsandkings，whichwasthegloryofThebes，andwhichinthesuccessionoftheagesnothinghascontrivedtoequal.Thecolumnswhichborderitaresogigantic[*]thattheirtops，formedofmysteriousfull—blownpetals，highupabovethegroundonwhichwecrawl，arecompletelybathedinthediffuseclearnessofthesky.Andenclosingthiskindofnaveoneitherside，likeaterribleforest，isanothermassofcolumns——monstercolumns，ofanearlierstyle，ofwhichthecapitalscloseinsteadofopening，imitatingthebudsofsomeflowerwhichwillneverblossom.Sixtytotheright，sixtytotheleft，tooclosetogetherfortheirsize，theygrowthicklikeaforestofbaobabsthatwantedspace：theyinduceafeelingofoppressionwithoutpossibledeliverance，ofmassiveandmournfuleternity.
[*]About30feetincircumferenceand75feetinheightincludingthecapital.
Andthis，forsooth，wastheplacethatIhadwishedtotraversealone，withouteventheBedouinguard，whoatnightbelievesithisdutytofollowthevisitors.Butnowitgrowslighterandlighter.Toolighteven，forabluephosphorescence，comingfromtheeasternhorizon，beginstofilterthroughtheopacityofthecolonnadesontheright，outlinesthemonstrousshafts，anddetailsthembyvagueglimmeringsontheiredges.Thefullmoonisrisen，alas！andmyhoursofsolitudearenearlyover.
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Themoon！Suddenlythestonesofthesummit，thecopings，theformidablefriezes，arelightedbyraysofclearlight，andhereandthere，onthebas—reliefsencirclingthepillars，appearluminoustrailswhichrevealthegodsandgoddessesengravedinthestone.Theywerewatchinginmyriadsaroundme，asIknewwell，——coifed，allofthem，indiscsorgreathorns.Theystareatoneanotherwiththeirarmsraised，spreadingouttheirlongfingersinaneagerattemptatconversation.Theyarenumberless，theseeternallygesticulatinggods.
Whereveryoulooktheirformsaremultipliedwithastupefyingrepetition.Theyseemtohavesomemysterioussecrettoconveytooneanother，buthaveperforcetoremainsilent，andforalltheexpressivenessoftheirattitudestheirhandsdonotmove.Andhieroglyphs，too，repeatedtoinfinity，envelopyouonallsideslikeamultiplewoofofmystery.
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Minutebyminutenow，everythingamongsttheserigiddeadthingsgrowsmoreprecise.Cold，hardrayspenetratethroughtheimmenseruin，separatingwithasharpincisivenessthelightfromtheshadows.Thefeelingthatthesestones，weariedastheywerewiththeirlongduration，mightstillbethoughtful，stillmindfuloftheirpast，growsless——lessthanitwasafewmomentsbefore，farlessthanduringtheprecedingbluephantasmagoria.Underthisclear，palelight，asinthedaytime，underthefireofthesun，Thebeshaslostforthemomentwhateverremainedtoitofsoul;ithasrecededfartherintothebackwardoftime，andappearsnownothingmorethanavastgiganticfossilthatexcitesonlyourwonderandourfear.
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Butthetouristswillsoonbehere，attractedbythemoon.Aleagueaway，inthehotelsofLuxor，Icanfancyhowtheyhavehurriedawayfromthetables，forfearofmissingthecelebratedspectacle.Forme，therefore，itistimetobeataretreat，and，bythegreatavenueagain，IdirectmystepstowardsthepylonsofthePtolemies，wherethenightguardsarewaiting.
Theyarebusyalready，theseBedouins，inopeningthegatesforsometourists，whohaveshowntheirpermits，andwhocarryKodaks，magnesiumtolightupthetemples——quiteanoutfitinshort.
Fartheron，whenIhavetakentheroadtoLuxor，itisnotlongbeforeImeet，underthepalm—treesandonthesands，thecrowd，themainbodyofthearrivals——someincarriages，someonhorseback，someondonkeys.Thereisanoiseofvoicesspeakingallsortsofnon—Egyptianlanguages.Oneistemptedtoask：\"Whatishappening？Aball，aholiday，agrandmarriage？\"No.Themoonisfullto—nightatThebes，upontheruins.Thatisall.
CHAPTERXVI
THEBESINSUNLIGHT
Itistwoo’clockintheafternoon.Awhiteangryfirepoursfromthesky，whichispalefromexcessoflight.Asuninimicaltothemenofourclimatescorchestheenormousfossilwhich，crumblinginplaces，isallthatremainsofThebesandwhichliestherelikethecarcassofagiganticbeastthathasbeendeadforthousandsofyears，butistoomassiveevertobeannihilated.
Inthehypostylethereisalittleblueshadebehindthemonstrouspillars，buteventhatshadeisdustyandhot.Thecolumnstooarehot，andsoarealltheblocks——andyetitiswinterandthenightsarecold，eventothepointoffrost.Heatanddust;areddishdust，whichhangslikeaneternalcloudovertheseruinsofUpperEgypt，exhalinganodourofspicesandmummy.
Thegreatheatseemstoaugmenttheretrospectivesensationoffatiguewhichseizesyouasyouregardthesestones——tooheavyforhumanstrength——whicharemassedhereinmountains.Onealmostseemstoparticipateintheefforts，theexhaustionsandthesweatingtoilsofthatpeople，withtheirmusclesofbrandnewsteel，whointhecarryingandpilingofsuchmasseshadtobeartheyokeforthirtycenturies.
Eventhestonesthemselvestelloffatigue——thefatigueofbeingcrushedbyoneanother’sweightforthousandsofyears;thesufferingthatcomesofhavingbeentooexactlycarved，andtoonicelyplacedoneabovetheother，sothattheyseemtoberivetedtogetherbytheforceoftheirmereweight.Oh！thepoorstonesofthebasethatbeartheweightoftheseawfulpilings！
Andtheardentcolourofthesethingssurprisesyou.Ithaspersisted.
Ontheredsandstoneofthehypostyle，thepaintingsofmorethanthreethousandyearsagoarestilltobeseen;especiallyabovethecentralchamber，almostinthesky，thecapitals，intheformofgreatflowers，havekeptthelapisblues，thegreensandyellowswithwhichtheirstrangepetalswerelongagobespeckled.
Decrepitudeandcrumblinganddust.Inbroaddaylight，underthemagnificentsplendourofthelife—givingsun，onerealisesclearlythatallhereisdead，anddeadsincedayswhichtheimaginationisscarcelyabletoconceive.Andtheruinappearsutterlyirreparable.
Hereandthereareafewimpotentandalmostinfantineattemptsatreparation，undertakenintheancientepochsofhistorybytheGreeksandRomans.Columnshavebeenputtogether，holeshavebeenfilledwithcement.Butthegreatblockslieinconfusion，andonefeels，eventothepointofdespair，howimpossibleitisevertorestoretoordersuchachaosofcrushing，overthrownthings——evenwiththehelpoflegionsofworkersandmachines，andwithcenturiesbeforeyouinwhichtocompletethetask.
Andthen，whatsurprisesandoppressesyouisthewantofclearspace，thelittleroomthatremainedforthemultitudesinthesehallswhichareneverthelessimmense.Thewholespacebetweenthewallswasencumberedwithpillars.Thetempleswerehalffilledwithcolossalforestsofstone.ThemenwhobuiltThebeslivedinthebeginningoftime，andhadnotyetdiscoveredthethingwhichtousto—dayseemssosimple——namely，thevault.Andyettheyweremarvellouspioneers，thesearchitects.Theyhadalreadysucceededinevolvingoutofthedark，asitwere，anumberofconceptionswhich，fromthebeginningnodoubt，slumberedinmysteriousgerminthehumanbrain——theideaofrectitude，thestraightline，therightangle，theverticalline，ofwhichNaturefurnishesnoexample，evensymmetry，which，ifyouconsideritwell，islessexplicablestill.Theyemployedsymmetrywithaconsummatemastery，understandingaswellaswedoalltheeffectthatistobeobtainedbytherepetitionoflikeobjectsplaced/enpendant/oneithersideofaporticooranavenue.Buttheydidnotinventthevault.Andtherefore，sincetherewasalimittothesizeofthestoneswhichtheywereabletoplaceflatlikebeams，theyhadrecoursetothisprofusionofcolumnstosupporttheirstupendousceilings.Andthusitisthatthereseemstobeawantofair，thatoneseemstostifleinthemiddleoftheirtemples，dominatedandobstructedastheyarebytherigidpresenceofsomanystones.Andyetto—dayyoucanseequiteclearlyinthesetemples，for，sincethesuspendedrockswhichservedforroofhavefallen，floodsoflightdescendfromallparts.Butformerly，whenakindofhalfnightreignedinthedeephalls，beneaththeimmovablecarapacesofsandstoneorgranite，howoppressiveandsepulchralitmustallhavebeen——howfinalandpitiless，likeagiganticpalaceofDeath！Ononeday，however，ineachyear，hereatThebes，alightasofaconflagrationusedtopenetratefromoneendtotheotherofthesanctuariesofAmen;forthemiddlearteryisopentowardsthenorth—
west，andisalignedinsuchafashionthat，onceayear，onesolitarytime，ontheeveningofthesummersolstice，thesunasitsetsisabletoplungeitsreddenedraysstraightintothesanctuaries.Atthemomentwhenitenlargesitsblood—coloureddiscbeforedescendingbehindthedesolationoftheLibyanmountains，itarrivesintheveryaxisofthisavenue，ofthissuiteofaisles，whichmeasuresmorethan800yardsinlength.Formerly，then，ontheseeveningsitshonehorizontallybeneaththeterribleceilings——betweentheserowsofpillarswhichareashighasourColonneVendome——andthrew，forsomeseconds，itscoloursofmoltencopperintotheobscurityoftheholyofholies.Andthenthewholetemplewouldresoundwiththeclashingofmusic，andthegloryofthegodofThebeswascelebratedinthedepthsoftheforbiddenhalls.
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Likeacloud，likeaveil，thecontinualred—coloureddustfloatseverywhereabovetheruins，and，athwartit，hereandthere，thesuntraceslong，whitebeams，Butatonepointoftheavenue，behindtheobelisks，itseemstoriseinclouds，thisdustofEgypt，asifitweresmoke.Fortheworkersofbronzeareassembledthereto—dayand，hourbyhour，withoutceasing，theydiginthesacredsoil.
Ridiculouslysmallandalmostnegligiblebythesideofthegreatmonolithstheydiganddig.Patientlytheycleartheruins，andtheearthgoesawayinlittleparcelsinrowsofbasketscarriedbychildrenintheformofachain.TheperiodicaldepositsoftheNile，andthesandcarriedbythewindofthedesert，hadraisedthesoilbyaboutsixyardssincethetimewhenThebesceasedtolive.Butnowmenareendeavouringtorestoretheancientlevel.Atfirstsightthetaskseemedimpossible，buttheywillachieveitintheend，evenwiththeirsimplemeans，thesefellahtoilers，whosingastheylabourattheirincessantworkofants.Soonthegrandhypostylewillbefreedfromrubbish，anditscolumns，whichevenbeforeseemedsotremendous，uncoverednowtothebase，haveaddedanothertwentyfeettotheirheight.Anumberofcolossalstatues，whichlayasleepbeneaththisshroudofearthandsand，havebeenbroughtbacktothelight，setuprightagainandhaveresumedtheirwatchintheintimidatingthoroughfaresforanewperiodofquasi—eternity.Yearbyyearthetown—mummyisbeingslowlyexhumedbydintofprodigiouseffort;andisrepeopledagainbygodsandkingswhohadbeenhiddenforthousandsofyears！[*]Yearin，yearout，thediggingcontinues——deeperanddeeper.Itisscarcelyknowntowhatdepththedebrisandtheruinsdescend.Thebeshadenduredforsomanycenturies，theearthhereissopenetratedwithhumanpast，thatitisaverredthat，undertheoldestoftheknowntemplestherearestillothers，olderstillandmoremassive，ofwhichtherewasnosuspicion，andwhoseagemustexceedeightthousandyears.
[*]Asisgenerallyknown，themaintenanceoftheancientmonumentsofEgyptandtheirrestoration，sofarasthatmaybepossible，hasbeenentrustedtotheFrench.M.MasperohasdelegatedtoThebesanartistandascholar，M.Legrainbyname，whoisdevotinghislifepassionatelytothework.
Inspiteoftheburningsun，andofthecloudsofdustraisedbytheblowsofthepickaxes，onemightlingerforhoursamongstthedust—
stained，meagrefellahs，watchingtheexcavationsinthisuniquesoil——whereeverythingthatisrevealedisbywayofbeingasurpriseandaluckyfind，wheretheleastcarvedstonehadapastofglory，formedpartofthefirstarchitecturalsplendours，was/astoneofThebes/.
Scarcelyamomentpassesbut，atthebottomofthetrenches，asthediggingproceeds，somenewthinggleams.Perhapsitisthepolishedflankofacolossus，fashionedoutofgranitefromSyene，oralittlecopperOsiris，thedebrisofavase，agoldentrinketbeyondprice，orevenasimplebluepearlthathasfallenfromthenecklaceofsomewaiting—maidofaqueen.
Thisactivityoftheexcavators，whichalonereanimatescertainquartersduringtheday，endsatsunset.Everyeveningtheleanfellahsreceivethedailywageoftheirlabour，andtakethemselvesofftosleepinthesilentneighbourhoodintheirhutsofmud;andtheirongatesareshutbehindthem.Atnight，exceptfortheguardsattheentrance，nooneinhabitstheruins.
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CrumblinganddustFararound，oneverysideofthesepalacesandtemplesofthecentralartery——whicharethebestpreservedandremainproudlyupright——stretchgreatmournfulspaces，onwhichthesunfrommorningtilleveningpoursanimplacablelight.There，amongstthelankdesertplants，lieblocksscatteredathazard——theremainsofsanctuaries，ofwhichneithertheplannortheformwilleverbediscovered.Butonthesestones，fragmentsofthehistoryoftheworldarestilltobereadinclear—cuthieroglyphs.
Tothewestofthehypostylehallthereisaregionstrewnwithdiscs，allequalandallalike.Itmightbeadraught—boardforTitanswithdraughtsthatwouldmeasuretenyardsincircumference.Theyarethescatteredfragments，slices，asitwere，ofacolonnadeoftheRamses.
Fartheronthegroundseemstohavepassedthroughfire.Youwalkoverblackishscoriaeencrustedwithbrazenboltsandparticlesofmeltedglass.ItisthequarterburntbythesoldiersofCambyses.Theyweregreatdestroyersofthequeencity，werethesesamePersiansoldiers.
Tobreakuptheobelisksandthecolossalstatuestheyconceivedtheplanofscorchingthembylightingbonfiresaroundthem，andthen，whentheysawthemburninghot，theydelugedthemwithcoldwater.Andthegranitescrackedfromtoptobase.
Itiswellknown，ofcourse，thatThebesusedtoextendforaconsiderabledistancebothonthis，theright，bankoftheNile，wherethePharaohsresided，andopposite，ontheLibyanbank，givenovertothepreparersofmummiesandtothemortuarytemples.Butto—day，exceptforthegreatpalacesofthecentre，itislittlemorethanalitterofruins，andthelongavenues，linedwithendlessrowsofsphinxesorrams，arelost，goodnessknowswhere，buriedbeneaththesand.
Atwideintervals，however，inthemidstofthesecemeteriesofthings，atemplehereandthereremainsupright，preservingstillitssanctifiedgloombeneathitscavernouscarapace.One，wherecertaincelebratedoraclesusedtobedelivered，isevenmoreprisonlikeandsepulchralthantheothersinitseternalshadow.Highupinawalltheblackholeofakindofgrottoopens，towhichasecretcorridorcomingfromthedepthsusedtolead.Itwastherethatthefaceofthepriestchargedwiththeannouncementofthesibyllinewordsappeared——
andtheceilingofhisnicheisallcoveredstillwiththesmokefromtheflameofhislamp，whichwasextinguishedmorethantwothousandyearsago！
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Whatanumberofruins，scarcelyemergingfromthesandofthedesert，arehereabout！Andintheolddried—upsoil，howmanystrangetreasuresremainhidden！Whenthesunlightsthustheforlorndistances，whenyouperceivestretchingawaytothehorizonthesefieldsofdeath，yourealisebetterwhatkindofaplacethisThebesoncewas.Rebuiltasitwereintheimaginationitappearsexcessive，superabundantandmultiple，likethoseflowersoftheantediluvianworldwhichthefossilsrevealtous.Comparedwithithowourmoderntownsaredwarfed，andourhastylittlepalaces，ourstuccoesandoldiron！
Anditissomystical，thistownofThebes，withitsdarksanctuaries，onceinhabitedbygodsandsymbols.Allthesublime，fresh—mindedstrivingofthehumansoulaftertheUnknowableisasitwerepetrifiedintheseruins，informsdiverseandimmeasurablygrand.Andsubsistingthusdowntoourdayitputsustoshame.Comparedwiththispeople，whothoughtonlyofeternity，wearealotofpitifuldotards，whosoonwillbepastcaringaboutthewhereforeoflife，orthought，ordeath.Suchbeginningspresaged，surely，somethinggreaterthanourhumanityofthepresentday，givenovertodespair，toalcoholandtoexplosives！
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Crumblinganddust！ThissamesunofThebesisinitsplaceeachday，parching，exhausting，crackingandpulverising.
Onthegroundwhereoncestoodsomuchmagnificencetherearefieldsofcorn，spreadoutlikegreencarpets，whichtellofthereturnofthehumblelifeoftillage.Aboveall，thereisthesand，encroachingnowupontheverythresholdofthePharaohs;thereistheyellowdesert;thereistheworldofreflectionsandofsilence，whichapproacheslikeaslowsubmergingtide.Inthedistance，wherethemiragetremblesfrommorningtillevening，theburyingisalreadyalmostachieved.Thefewpoorstoneswhichstillappear，barelyemergingfromtheadvancingdunes，aretheremainsofwhatmen，intheirsuperbrevoltsagainstdeath，hadcontrivedtomakethemostmassivelyindestructible.
Andthissun，thiseternalsun，whichparadesoverThebestheironyofitsduration——forussoimpossibletocalculateortoconceive！
Nowheresomuchasheredoesonesufferfromthedismayofknowingthatallourmiserablelittlehumaneffervescenceisonlyasortoffermentationroundanatomemanatedfromthatsinisterballoffire，andthatthatfireitself，thewonderfulsun，isnomorethananephemeralmeteor，afurtivespark，thrownoffduringoneoftheinnumerablecosmictransformations，inthecourseoftimeswithoutendandwithoutbeginning.
CHAPTERXVII
ANAUDIENCEOFAMENOPHISII.
KingAmenophisII.hasresumedhisreceptions，whichhefoundhimselfobligedtosuspendforthreethousand，threehundredandsomeoddyears，byreasonofhisdecease.Theyareverywellattended;courtdressisnotinsistedupon，andtheGrandMasterofceremoniesisnotabovetakingatip.Heholdsthemeverymorninginthewinterfromeighto’clock，inthebowelsofamountaininthedesertofLibya;andifherestshimselfduringtheremainderofthedayitisonlybecause，assoonasmiddaysounds，theyturnofftheelectriclight.
HappyAmenophis！Outofsomanykingswhotriedsohardtohideforevertheirmummiesinthedepthsofimpenetrablecavernsheistheonlyonewhohasbeenleftinhistomb.Andhe\"makesthemostofit\"
everytimeheopenshisfuneralsalons.
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ItisimportanttoarrivebeforemiddayatthedwellingofthisPharaoh，andateighto’clocksharp，therefore，onaclearFebruarymorning，IsetoutfromLuxor，whereformanydaysmydahabiyahadslumberedagainstthebankoftheNile.Itisnecessaryfirstofalltocrosstheriver，fortheThebankingsoftheMiddleEmpireallestablishedtheireternalhabitationsontheoppositebank——farbeyondtheplainsoftherivershore，rightawayinthosemountainswhichboundthehorizonaswithawallofadorablerose—colour.Othercanoes，whicharealsocrossing，glidebythesideofmineonthetranquilwater.ThepassengersseemtobelongtothatvarietyofAnglo—SaxonswhichisequippedbyThomasCook&Sons（EgyptLtd.），andlikeme，nodoubt，theyareboundfortheroyalpresence.
Welandonthesandoftheoppositebank，whichto—dayisalmostdeserted.FormerlytherestretchedherearegularsuburbofThebes——
that，namely，ofthepreparersofmummies，withthousandsofovenswhereintoheatthenatronandtheoils，whichpreservedthebodiesfromcorruption.InthisThebes，whereforsomefiftycenturies，everythingthatdied，whethermanorbeast，wasminutelypreparedandswathedinbandages，itwillreadilybeunderstoodwhatimportancethisquarteroftheembalmerscametoassume.Anditwastotheneighbouringmountainsthattheproductsofsomanycarefulwrappingswereborneforburial，whiletheNilecarriedawaythebloodfromthebodiesandthefilthoftheirentrails.Thatchainoflivingrocksthatrisesbeforeus，colouredeachmorningwiththesamerose，asofatenderflower，isliterallystuffedwithdeadbodies.
Wehavetocrossawideplainbeforereachingthemountains，andonourwaycornfieldsalternatewithstretchesofsandalreadydesertlike.BehindusextendstheoldNileandtheoppositebankwhichwehavelatelyquitted——thebankofLuxor，whosegiganticPharaoniccolonnadesareasitwerelengthenedbelowbytheirownreflectioninthemirroroftheriver.Andinthisradiantmorning，inthispurelight，itwouldbeadmirable，thiseternaltemple，withitsimagereversedinthedepthofthebluewater，wereitnotthatatitssides，andtotwiceitsheight，risestheimpudentWinterPalace，thatmonsterhotelbuiltlastyearforthefastidioustourists.Andyet，whoknows？ThejackanapeswhodepositedthisabominationonthesacredsoilofEgyptperhapsimaginesthatheequalsthemeritoftheartistwhoisnowrestoringthesanctuariesofThebes，oreventhegloryofthePharaohswhobuiltthem.
AswedrawnearertothechainofLibya，wherethiskingawaitsus，wetraversefieldsstillgreenwithgrowingcorn——andsparrowsandlarkssingaroundusintheimpetuousspringofthislandofThebes.
Andnowbeyondtwomenhirs，asitwere，becomegraduallydistinct.Ofthesameheightandshape，alikeindeedineveryrespect，theyrisesidebysideinthecleardistanceinthemidstofthesegreenplains，whichrecallsowellourfieldsofFrance.TheyweartheheadgearoftheSphinx，andaregigantichumanformsseatedonthrones——thecolossalstatuesofMemnon.Werecognisethematonce，forthepicture—makersofsucceedingageshavepopularisedtheiraspect，asinthecaseofthepyramids.Whatisstrangeisthattheyshouldstandtheresosimplyinthemidstofthesefieldsofgrowingcorn，whichreachtotheirveryfeet，andbesurroundedbythesehumblebirdsweknowsowell，whosingwithoutceremonyontheirshoulders.
Theydonotseemtobescandalisedevenatseeingnow，passingquiteclosetothem，thetrucksofaplayfullittlerailwaybelongingtoalocalindustry，thatareladenwithsugar—canesandgourds.
ThechainofLibya，duringthelasthour，hasbeengrowinggraduallylargeragainsttheprofoundandexcessivelybluesky.Andnowthatitrisesupquiteneartous，overheated，andasitwereincandescent，underthisteno’clocksun，webegintoseeonallsides，infrontofthefirstrockyspursofthemountains，thedebrisofpalaces，colonnades，staircasesandpylons.Headlessgiants，swathedlikedeadPharaohs，standupright，withhandscrossedbeneaththeirshroudofsandstone.Theyarethetemplesandstatuesforthemanesofnumberlesskingsandqueens，whoduringthreeorfourthousandyearshadtheirmummiesburiedhardbyintheheartofthemountains，inthedeepestofthewalledandsecretgalleries.
Andnowthecornfieldshaveceased;thereisnolongeranyherbage——
nothing.Wehavecrossedthedesolatethreshold，weareinthedesert，andtreadsuddenlyuponadisquietingfunerealsoil，halfsand，halfashes，thatispittedonallsideswithgapingholes.Itlookslikesomeregionthathadlongbeenunderminedbyburrowingbeasts.Butitismenwho，formorethanfiftycenturies，havevexedthisground，firsttohidethemummiesinit，andafterwards，anduntilourday，toexhumethem.Eachoftheseholeshasencloseditscorpse，andifyoupeerwithinyoumayseeyellow—colouredragsstilltrailingthere;andbandages，orlegsandvertebraeofthousandsofyearsago.SomeleanBedouins，whoexercisetheofficeofexcavators，andsleephardbyinholeslikejackals，advancetosellusscarabaei，blue—glasstrinketsthatarehalffossilised，andfeetorhandsofthedead.
Andnowfarewelltothefreshmorning.Everyminutetheheatbecomesmoreoppressive.Thepathwaythatismarkedonlybyarowofstonesturnsatlastandleadsintothedepthsofthemountainbyatragicalpassage.Weenternowintothat\"ValleyoftheKings\"whichwastheplaceofthelastrendezvousofthemostaugustmummies.Thebreathsofairthatreachusbetweentheserocksarebecomesuddenlyburning，andthesiteseemstobelongnolongertoearthbuttosomecalcinedplanetwhichhadforeverlostitscloudsandatmosphere.ThisLibyanchain，inthedistancesodelicatelyrose，ispositivelyfrightfulnowthatitoverhangsus.Itlookswhatitis——anenormousandfantastictomb，anaturalnecropolis，whosevastnessandhorrornothinghumancouldequal，anidealstoveforcorpsesthatwantedtoendureforever.Thelimestone，onwhichforthatmatternoraineverfallsfromthechangelesssky，lookstobeinonesinglepiecefromsummittobase，andbetraysnocrackorcrevicebywhichanythingmightpenetrateintothesepulchreswithin.Thedeadcouldsleep，therefore，intheheartofthesemonstrousblocksasshelteredasundervaultsoflead.Andofwhatthereisofmagnificencethecenturieshavetakencare.Thecontinualpassageofwindsladenwithdusthasscaledandwornawaythefaceoftherocks，soastoleaveonlythedenserveinsofstone，andthushavereappearedstrangearchitecturalfantasiessuchasMatter，inthebeginning，mighthavedimlyconceived.
SubsequentlythesunofEgypthaslavishedonthewholeitsardentreddishpatines.Andnowthemountainsimitateinplacesgreatorgan—
pipes，badigeonedwithyellowandcarmine，andelsewherehugebloodstainedskeletonsandmassesofdeadflesh.
Outlinedupontheexcessiveblueofthesky，thesummits，illuminedtothepointofdazzling，riseupinthelight——likeredcindersofaglowingfire，splendoursoflivingcoal，againstthepureindigothatturnsalmosttodarkness.WeseemtobewalkinginsomevalleyoftheApocalypsewithflamingwalls.Silenceanddeath，beneathatranscendentclearness，intheconstantradianceofakindofmournfulapotheosis——itwassuchsurroundingsasthesethattheEgyptianschosefortheirnecropoles.
Thepathwayplungesdeeperanddeeperinthestiflingdefiles，andattheendofthis\"ValleyoftheKings，\"underthesunnownearlymeridian，whichgrowseachminutemoremournfulandterrible，weexpectedtocomeuponadreadsilence.Butwhatisthis？
Ataturning，beyondthere，atthebottomofasinister—lookingrecess，whatdoesthiscrowdofpeople，whatdoesthisuproarmean？Isitameeting，afair？Underawningstoprotectthemfromthesunstandsomefiftydonkeys，saddledintheEnglishfashion.Inacorneranelectricalworkshop，builtofnewbricks，shootsforththeblacksmoke，andallabout，betweenthehighblood—colouredwalls，comingandgoing，makingagreatstirandgabblingtotheirhearts’content，areanumberofCook’stouristsofbothsexes，andsomeevenwhoverilyseemtohavenosexatall.Theyarecomefortheroyalaudience;someonasses，someinjauntingcars，andsome，thestoutladieswhoaregrownshortofwind，inchairscarriedbytheBedouins.
FromthefourpointsofEuropetheyhaveassembledinthisdesertravinetoseeanolddried—upcorpseatthebottomofahole.
Hereandtherethehiddenpalacesrevealtheirdark，square—shapedentrances，hewninthemassiverock，andovereachaboardindicatesthenameofakinglymummy——RamsesIV.，SetiI.，ThothmesIII.，RamsesIX.，etc.Althoughallthesekings，exceptAmenophisII.，haverecentlybeenremovedandcarriedawaytoLowerEgypt，topeopletheglasscasesofthemuseumofCairo，theirlastdwellingshavenotceasedtoattractcrowds.FromeachundergroundhabitationareemergingnowanumberofperspiringCooksandCookesses.AndfromthatofAmenophis，especially，theyissuerapidly.Supposethatwehavecometoolateandthattheaudienceisover！
Andtothinkthattheseentranceshadbeenwalledup，hadbeenmaskedwithsomuchcare，andlostforcenturies！Andofalltheperseverancethatwasneededtodiscoverthem，theobservation，thegropings，thesoundingsandrandomdiscoveries！
Butnowtheyarebeingclosed.WeloiteredtoolongaroundthecolossiofMemnonandthepalacesoftheplain.Itisnearlynoon，anoonconsumingandmournful，whichfallsperpendicularlyupontheredsummits，andisburningtoitsdeepestrecessesthevalleyofstone.
AtthedoorofAmenophiswehavetocajole，beseech.BythehelpofagratuitytheBedouinGrandMasterofCeremoniesallowshimselftobepersuaded.Wearetodescendwithhim，butquickly，quickly，fortheelectriclightwillsoonbeextinguished.Itwillbeashortaudience，butatleastitwillbeaprivateone.Weshallbealonewiththeking.
Inthedarkness，whereatfirst，aftersomuchsunlight，thelittleelectriclampsseemtousscarcelymorethanglow—worms，weexpectedacertainamountofchillinessasintheundergroundsofourclimate.
Butherethereisonlyamoreoppressiveheat，stiflingandwithering，andwelongtoreturntotheopenair，whichwasburningindeed，butwasatleasttheairoflife.
Hastilywedescend：bysteepstaircases，bypassageswhichslopesorapidlythattheyhurryusalongofthemselves，likeslides;anditseemsthatweshallneverascendagain，anymorethanthegreatmummywhopassedheresolongagoonhiswaytohiseternalchamber.Allthisbringsus，firstofall，toadeepwell——dugtheretoswallowupthedesecratorsintheirpassage——anditisononeofthesidesofthisoubliette，behindacasualstonecarefullysealed，thatthecontinuationofthesefuneralgallerieswasdiscovered.Then，whenwehavepassedthewell，byanarrowbridgethathasbeenthrownacrossit，thestairsbeginagain，andthesteeppassagesthatalmostmakeyourun;butnow，byasharpbend，theyhavechangedtheirdirection.
Andstillwedescend，descend.Heavens！howdeepdownthiskingdwells！Andateachstepofourdescentwefeelmoreandmoreimprisonedunderthesovereignmassofstone，inthecentreofallthiscompactandsilentthickness.
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Thelittleelectricglobes，placedapartlikeagarland，sufficenowforoureyeswhichhaveforgottenthesun.Andwecandistinguisharoundusmyriadfiguresinvitingustosolemnityandsilence.Theyareinscribedeverywhereonthesmooth，spotlesswallsofthecolourofoldivory.Theyfollowoneanotherinregularorder，repeatingthemselvesobstinatelyinparallelrows，asifthebettertoimposeuponourspirit，withgesturesandsymbolsthatareeternallythesame.Thegodsanddemons，therepresentativesofAnubis，withhisblackjackal’sheadandhislongerectears，seemtomakesignstouswiththeirlongarmsandlongfingers：\"Nonoise！Look，therearemummieshere！\"Thewonderfulpreservationofallthis，thevividcolours，theclearnessoftheoutlines，begintocauseakindofstuporandbewilderment.Verilyyouwouldthinkthatthepainterofthesefiguresoftheshadeshadonlyjustquittedthehypogeum.Allthispastseemstodrawyoutoitselflikeanabysstowhichyouhaveapproachedtooclosely.Itsurroundsyou，andlittlebylittlemastersyou.Itissomuchathomeherethatithas/remainedthepresent/.
Overandabovethemeredescentintothesecretbowelsoftherocktherehasbeenakindofseizurewithvertigo，whichwehadnotanticipatedandwhichhaswhirledusfarawayintothedepthsoftheages.
Theseinterminable，oppressivepassages，bywhichwehavecrawledtotheinnermostdepthsofthemountain，leadatlengthtosomethingvast，thewallsdivide，thevaultexpandsandweareinthegreatfuneralhall，ofwhichtheblueceiling，allbestrewnwithstarslikethesky，issupportedbysixpillarshewnintherockitself.Oneithersideopenotherchambersintowhichtheelectricitypermitsustoseequiteclearly，andopposite，attheendofthehall，alargecryptisrevealed，whichonedivinesinstinctivelymustbetheresting—placeofthePharaoh.Whataprodigiouslabourmusthavebeenentailedbythisperforationofthelivingrock！Andthishypogeumisnotunique.Allalongthe\"ValleyoftheKings\"littleinsignificantdoors——whichtotheinitiatedrevealthe\"SignoftheShadow，\"
inscribedontheirlintels——leadtoothersubterraneanplaces，justassumptuousandperfidiouslyprofound，withtheirsnares，theirhiddenwells，theiroubliettesandthebewilderingmultiplicityoftheirmuralfigures.Andallthesetombsthismorningwerefullofpeople，and，ifwehadnothadthegoodfortunetoarriveaftertheusualhour，weshouldhavemethere，eveninthisdwellingofAmenophis，abattalionequippedbyMessrs.Cook.
Inthishall，withitsblueceiling，thefrescoesmultiplytheirriddles：scenesfromthebookofHades，allthefuneralritualtranslatedintopictures.OnthepillarsandwallscrowdthedifferentdemonsthatanEgyptiansoulwaslikelytomeetinitspassagethroughthecountryofshadows，andunderneaththepasswordswhichweretobegiventoeachofthemarerecapitulatedsoasnottobeforgotten.
Forthesoulusedtodepartsimultaneouslyunderthetwoformsofaflame[*]andafalcon[+]respectively.Andthiscountryofshadows，calledalsothewest，towhichithadtorenderitself，wasthatwherethemoonsinksandwhereeacheveningthesungoesdown;acountrytowhichthelivingwereneverabletoattain，becauseitfledbeforethem，howeverfasttheymighttravelacrossthesandsoroverthewaters.Onitsarrivalthere，thescaredsoulhadtoparleysuccessivelywiththefearsomedemonswholayinwaitforitalongitsroute.IfatlastitwasjudgedworthytoapproachOsiris，thegreatDeadSun，itwassubsumedinhimandreappeared，shiningovertheworldthenextmorningandonallsucceedingmorningsuntiltheconsummationoftime——avaguesurvivalinthesolarsplendour，acontinuationwithoutpersonality，ofwhichoneisscarcelyabletosaywhetherornotitwasmoredesirablethaneternalnon—existence.
[*]TheKhou，whichneverreturnedtoourworld.
[+]TheBai，whichmight，atitswill，revisitthetomb.