Indeed it had been no error to say that this building was one that appealed to the imagination; it did more—­it carried both imagination and judgement by storm.  It was an epic in stone and marble, and so powerful was the effect it produced on me, that as I beheld it I was charmed and melted.  I felt more conscious of the existence of a remote past.  One knows of this always, but the knowledge is never so living as in the actual presence of some witness to the life of bygone ages.  I felt how short a space of human life was the period of our own existence.  I was more impressed with my own littleness, and much more inclinable to believe that the people whose sense of the fitness of things was equal to the upraising of so serene a handiwork, were hardly likely to be wrong in the conclusions they might come to upon any subject.  My feeling certainly was that the currency of this bank must be the right one.

We crossed the sward and entered the building.  If the outside had been impressive the inside was even more so.  It was very lofty and divided into several parts by walls which rested upon massive pillars; the windows were filled with stained glass descriptive of the principal commercial incidents of the bank for many ages.  In a remote part of the building there were men and boys singing; this was the only disturbing feature, for as the gamut was still unknown, there was no music in the country which could be agreeable to a European ear.  The singers seemed to have derived their inspirations from the songs of birds and the wailing of the wind, which last they tried to imitate in melancholy cadences that at times degenerated into a howl.  To my thinking the noise was hideous, but it produced a great effect upon my companions, who professed themselves much moved.  As soon as the singing was over, the ladies requested me to stay where I was while they went inside the place from which it had seemed to come.

During their absence certain reflections forced themselves upon me.

In the first place, it struck me as strange that the building should be so nearly empty; I was almost alone, and the few besides myself had been led by curiosity, and had no intention of doing business with the bank.  But there might be more inside.  I stole up to the curtain, and ventured to draw the extreme edge of it on one side.  No, there was hardly any one there.  I saw a large number of cashiers, all at their desks ready to pay cheques, and one or two who seemed to be the managing partners.  I also saw my hostess and her daughters and two or three other ladies; also three or four old women and the boys from one of the neighbouring Colleges of Unreason; but there was no one else.  This did not look as though the bank was doing a very large business; and yet I had always been told that every one in the city dealt with this establishment.