‘Listen to me,’ continued Arbaces, in an earnest and solemn voice, casting first his searching eyes around to see that they were still alone.  ’From Egypt came all the knowledge of the world; from Egypt came the lore of Athens, and the profound policy of Crete; from Egypt came those early and mysterious tribes which (long before the hordes of Romulus swept over the plains of Italy, and in the eternal cycle of events drove back civilization into barbarism and darkness) possessed all the arts of wisdom and the graces of intellectual life.  From Egypt came the rites and the grandeur of that solemn Caere, whose inhabitants taught their iron vanquishers of Rome all that they yet know of elevated in religion and sublime in worship.  And how deemest thou, young man, that that Egypt, the mother of countless nations, achieved her greatness, and soared to her cloud-capt eminence of wisdom?—­It was the result of a profound and holy policy.  Your modern nations owe their greatness to Egypt—­Egypt her greatness to her priests.  Rapt in themselves, coveting a sway over the nobler part of man, his soul and his belief, those ancient ministers of God were inspired with the grandest thought that ever exalted mortals.  From the revolutions of the stars, from the seasons of the earth, from the round and unvarying circle of human destinies, they devised an august allegory; they made it gross and palpable to the vulgar by the signs of gods and goddesses, and that which in reality was Government they named Religion.  Isis is a fable—­start not!—­that for which Isis is a type is a reality, an immortal being; Isis is nothing.  Nature, which she represents, is the mother of all things—­dark, ancient, inscrutable, save to the gifted few.  “None among mortals hath ever lifted up my veil,” so saith the Isis that you adore; but to the wise that veil hath been removed, and we have stood face to face with the solemn loveliness of Nature.  The priests then were the benefactors, the civilizers of mankind; true, they were also cheats, impostors if you will.  But think you, young man, that if they had not deceived their kind they could have served them?  The ignorant and servile vulgar must be blinded to attain to their proper good; they would not believe a maxim—­they revere an oracle.  The Emperor of Rome sways the vast and various tribes of earth, and harmonizes the conflicting and disunited elements; thence come peace, order, law, the blessings of life.  Think you it is the man, the emperor, that thus sways?—­no, it is the pomp, the awe, the majesty that surround him—­these are his impostures, his delusions; our oracles and our divinations, our rites and our ceremonies, are the means of our sovereignty and the engines of our power.  They are the same means to the same end, the welfare and harmony of mankind.  You listen to me rapt and intent—­the light begins to dawn upon you.’

Apaecides remained silent, but the changes rapidly passing over his speaking countenance betrayed the effect produced upon him by the words of the Egyptian—­words made tenfold more eloquent by the voice, the aspect, and the manner of the man.