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Updated: June 19, 2025
He had sent me his "Zenobia," "from the author," and for that very reason, I suppose, some one had stolen it; but I had replaced both that and the letters from Rome, and sent them to Mr. Kingsley as models for his "Hypatia." He has them still. He had never heard of them till I named them to him. They seem to me very fine and classical, just like the best translations from some great Latin writer.
"It will be hard work at first," Miss Appleyard warned him; "but you must persevere. I have taken an interest in you; you must try not to disappoint me." And Miss Appleyard, feeling all the sensations of a Hypatia, departed, taking light with her and forgetting to pay for the telegram.
The common people behind, having glutted their curiosity with all that there was to see, began openly to murmur at the cruelty and heathenry of it. Hypatia, utterly unnerved, hid her face in both her hands. Orestes alone rose with the crisis.
So Cyril felt, and on that feeling he acted. As Hypatia repaired to her academy, she was assaulted by Cyril's mob a mob of many monks. Stripped naked in the street, she was dragged into a church, and there killed by the club of Peter the Reader. The corpse was cut to pieces, the flesh was scraped from the bones with shells, and the remnants cast into a fire.
In that case I think he would have occupied a much earlier and narrower grave than that on which Mr. Morris Moore hangs his funeral decorations." "But, my dear," said Hypatia, who was posted on such subjects, "the Sistine Madonna was one of his latest paintings." "Very true," said I; "but if he had married, as I did, he would have painted it earlier."
For fifteen years he poured out lectures, sermons, tales, travels, poems, dialogues, children's books, and historical, philosophical, theological, social, scientific, and sanitary essays but the Charles Kingsley of Yeast, of Alton Locke, of Hypatia, of Westward Ho! of the Ballads and Poems, we never knew again.
Later in the day, after he had presented himself to Archbishop Cyril, Philammon learnt from an old priest, and from a fanatical monk named Peter, that the very name of Hypatia was enough to rouse the clergy to a fury of execration.
'He will have no objection to keep quiet trust him for that! But don't forget Sagaman Moneybag, the best of all orators, called Smid laughingly after him, as he went off to man the boat. 'What answer has he sent back, father? asked Hypatia, as Theon re-entered her chamber, after delivering that hapless letter to Philammon.
The following is a description of a religious riot which took place in Alexandria during the early days of the Church: "Among the many victims of these unhappy tumults was Hypatia, a maiden not more distinguished for her beauty than for her learning and her virtues. Her father was Theon, the illustrious mathematician who had early initiated his daughter in the mysteries of philosophy.
'Whom do you mean? asked Hypatia, in a tone most unphilosophically eager. 'Pelagia, of course. I met that prettiest and naughtiest of humanities half-way between here and Thebes, transformed into a perfect Andromache of chaste affection. 'And to whom, pray? 'To a certain Gothic giant. What men those barbarians do breed!
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