he ancients--and here his audience listened with
bated breath--the ancients had been more intimately familiar with the
mysterious powers that rule the life of Nature than men in the later
times, whether priests or laymen. In those days every servant of the Most
High had been a naturalist and a student, and when Egypt had been visited
by such a calamity as that of this year, a sacrifice had been offered--a
precious victim against which all mankind, nay and all his own feelings
revolted; still, this sacrifice had never failed of its effect, no,
never. Here was the evidence--and he pointed to the manuscripts in his
lap.

The councillors had begun to be restless in their seats, and first the
president and then the others, one after another, exclaimed and asked:

"But the victim?"

"What did they sacrifice?"

"What about the victim?"

"Allow me to say no more about it till another time," said the old man.
"What good could it do to tell you that now? The first thing is to find
the thing that is acceptable to the gods."

"What is it?"

"Speak--do not keep us on the rack!" was shouted on all sides; but he
remained inexorable, promising only to call the council together when the
right time should come and desiring that the president would proclaim
from the balcony that Horapollo knew of a sacrifice which would cause the
Nile at last to rise. As soon as the right victim could be found, the
people should be invited to give their consent. In the time of their
forefathers it had never failed of its effect, so men, women, and
children might go home in all confidence, and await the future with new
and well-founded hopes.

And this announcement, with which the president mingled his praises of
the venerable Horapollo, had a powerful effect. The crowd hallooed with
glee, as though they had found new life. "Hail, hail!" was shouted again
and again, and it was addressed, not merely to the old man who had
promised them deliverance, but also to the Fathers of the city, who felt
as if a fearful load had fallen from their souls.

The old man's scheme was, to be sure, not pious nor rightly Christian;
but had the power of the Church been in any way effectual? And this
having failed they must of their own accord have had recourse to means
held reprobate by the priesthood. Magic and the black arts were genuinely
Egyptian; and when faith had no power, these asserted themselves and
superstition claimed its own. Though Medea had been taken