“We must call it a reminiscence of that divine condition, in which, according to Plato, the soul formerly was, but from which it has fallen.” “And do not you yourself say, that all this is merely an intimation of the truth, and that that which is, cannot be comprehended by means of such symbols? It is for this reason that I call such knowledge, Revelation; and I hold this doctrine of Plato to be a relic of those primeval times, when the true and revealed knowledge of God was not yet entirely obliterated. But we can prove by historical evidence that God spoke by Moses, and that our law therefore is what it claims to be, a Revelation.” “But what are these historical proofs, on which all depends?” interrupted Myron. “Has not Elisama given them in the course of his narrative, and are they not plainly to be discerned in our sacred writings? But I will give you another proof. If Moses had read his doctrines on the hieroglyphic pillars of Egypt, how happened it that they were not read by the priests of Isis, who must have had still readier access to them?” Myron appeared to be about to answer, though somewhat perplexed by the question, when they were interrupted by the well-known blast of the trumpet. They had not observed that they were prolonging their discourse far into the night. Sallu and the slave came up, and pulled the poles of the tent out of the sand. “It is time,” said Elisama, “that we should desist, and indeed such disputes, Helon, have little results! Let him fear God, and he will believe in the law.” “In that case,” said Helon, “we should as men enjoy that friendly communion in the knowledge of the truth, of which as youths we dreamt in the Bruchium.” He reached his hand to Myron, who took it smiling, and hastened to his horse. CHAPTER V. THE HALT AT OSTRACINE. The march began, as usual, about midnight, and terminated at Ostracine. They had not proceeded far from Casium, when they reached the lake Sirbonis, whose surface was so covered with the drifted sand, that they had difficulty in distinguishing it, in the darkness, from the surrounding wilderness. A few sabbath-days’ journies farther on, they came to a green, fertile, and blooming vale, called Larish, in the midst of the desert, like a flower growing in the sand. A small brook discharges itself by this valley into the lake Sirbonis. In summer, it is commonly dry: now its clear waters were flowing, and the stars were reflected in them. Elisama checked his horse, as they were about to cross it, and called to Helon, “Farewell to Egypt; this is the boundary! I cross the _river of Egypt_.”