Egypt cried out through thousands of years for the ultimate resurrection of the whole man, his _coming forth by day_.
We need not fear that a story that so dominated a race will be lost on modern souls when vividly set forth.

Is it too much to expect that some American prophet-wizard of the future will give us this film in the spirit of an Egyptian priest?
The Greeks, the wisest people in our limited system of classics, bowed down before the Egyptian hierarchy.

That cult must have had a fine personal authority and glamour to master such men.

The unseen mysteries were always on the Egyptian heart as a burden and a consolation, and though there may have been jugglers in the outer courts of these temples, as there have been in the courts of all temples, no mere actor could make an Egyptian priest of himself.

Their very alphabet has a regal enchantment in its lines, and the same aesthetic-mystical power remains in their pylons and images under the blaze of the all-revealing noonday sun.
Here is a nation, America, going for dreams into caves as shadowy as the tomb of Queen Thi.