[In the Ritual of the Dead (indeed in almost every Papyrus of the Dead) we meet with a representation of the soul, whose heart is being weighed and judged.  The speech made by the soul is called the negative justification, in which she assures the 42 judges of the dead, that she has not committed the 42 deadly sins which she enumerates.  This justification is doubly interesting because it contains nearly the entire moral law of Moses, which last, apart from all national peculiarities and habits of mind, seems to contain the quintessence of human morality—­and this we find ready paragraphed in our negative justification.  Todtenbuch ed.  Lepsius. 125.  We cannot discuss this question philosophically here, but the law of Pythagoras, who borrowed so much from Egypt, and the contents of which are the same, speaks for our view.  It is similar in form to the Egyptian.]

“There you remind me,” said Croesus “that I have undertaken to arrange for your instruction in the Persian customs, religion and language.  I had intended to withdraw to Barene, the town which I received as a gift from Cyrus, and there, in that most lovely mountain valley, to take my rest; but for your sake and for the king’s, I will remain here and continue to give you instruction in the Persian tongue.  Kassandane herself will initiate you in the customs peculiar to women at the Persian court, and Oropastes, the high-priest, has been ordered by the king to make you acquainted with the religion of Iran.  He will be your spiritual, and I your secular guardian.”

At these words Nitetis, who had been smiling happily, cast down her eyes and asked in a low voice:  “Am I to become unfaithful to the gods of my fathers, who have never failed to hear my prayers?  Can I, ought I to forget them?”

“Yes,” said Kassandane decidedly, “thou canst, and it is thy bounden duty, for a wife ought to have no friends but those her husband calls such.  The gods are a man’s earliest, mightiest and most faithful friends, and it therefore becomes thy duty, as a wife, to honor them, and to close thine heart against strange gods and superstitions, as thou wouldst close it against strange lovers.”

“And,” added Croesus, “we will not rob you of your deities; we will only give them to you under other names.  As Truth remains eternally the same, whether called ‘maa’, as by the Egyptians, or ‘Aletheia’ as by the Greeks, so the essence of the Deity continues unchanged in all places and times.  Listen, my daughter:  I myself, while still king of Lydia, often sacrificed in sincere devotion to the Apollo of the Greeks, without a fear that in so doing I should offend the Lydian sun-god Sandon; the Ionians pay their worship to the Asiatic Cybele, and, now that I have become a Persian, I raise my hands adoringly to Mithras, Ormuzd and the lovely Anahita.  Pythagoras too, whose teaching is not new to you, worships one god only, whom he calls Apollo; because, like the Greek sun-god, he is the source of light and of those harmonies which Pythagoras holds to be higher than all else.  And lastly, Xenophanes of Colophon laughs at the many and divers gods of Homer and sets one single deity on high—­the ceaselessly creative might of nature, whose essence consists of thought, reason and eternity.