where life, happiness,
and safety flourish, on the other it procures us the honor of counting
ourselves among your number; for, though the university of Chennu in
former times was so happy as to bring up many great men, whom she could
call her own, she can no longer compare with the House of Seti. Even
Heliopolis and Memphis are behind you; and if I, my humble self,
nevertheless venture boldly among you, it is because I ascribe your
success as much to the active influence of the Divinity in your temple,
which may promote my acquirements and achievements, as to your great
gifts and your industry, in which I will not be behind you. I have
already seen your high-priest Ameni--what a man! And who does not know
thy name, Gagabu, or thine, Meriapu?"

"And which of you," asked the other new-comer, may we greet as the author
of the most beautiful hymn to Amon, which was ever sung in the land of
the Sycamore? Which of you is Pentaur?"

"The empty chair yonder," answered Gagabu, pointing to a seat at the
lower end of the table, "is his. He is the youngest of us all, but a
great future awaits him."

"And his songs," added the elder of the strangers. "Without doubt,"
replied the chief of the haruspices,--[One of the orders of priests in
the Egyptian hierarchy]--an old man with a large grey curly head, that
seemed too heavy for his thin neck, which stretched forward--perhaps from
the habit of constantly watching for signs--while his prominent eyes
glowed with a fanatical gleam. "Without doubt the Gods have granted great
gifts to our young friend, but it remains to be proved how he will use
them. I perceive a certain freedom of thought in the youth, which pains
me deeply. Although in his poems his flexible style certainly follows the
prescribed forms, his ideas transcend all tradition; and even in the
hymns intended for the ears of the people I find turns of thought, which
might well be called treason to the mysteries which only a few months ago
he swore to keep secret. For instance he says--and we sing--and the laity
hear--

"One only art Thou, Thou Creator of beings;
And Thou only makest all that is created.

And again--

He is one only, Alone, without equal;
Dwelling alone in the holiest of holies."

[Hymn to Amon preserved in a papyrus roll at Bulaq, and deciphered
by Grehaut and L. Stern.]

Such passages as these ought not to be sung in public, at least in times
like ours, when new