"A few among us have mysteries, such as the existence of One God; that He is a spirit; that all men are His offspring; and that we must be just in order to please Him. But I must confess, O prince," he said, sadly, "that we have very little knowledge, even the best among us, of the God in whose existence we profess to believe. It is easier to serve and trust to the visible gods of Egypt; and our people, from the depths of their misery, stretch forth their clay-soiled hands to Osiris, to Pthah, to the images of Apis, and cry, 'Deliver us, O gods of Egypt, deliver us from our bondage!' They have cried to the invisible God of Abraham in vain, and they now cry in vain to the gods of the land, also. Neither hear--neither answer; and they sink into blank despair, without any hope left in a god--a nation of infidel slaves!" "Can this be a true picture?" I said. "Nearly so. Even I, O prince, under the ever-present power of the religion to which this temple is upreared,--I, from the influence of example, from ignorance of the worship of the Hebrew God of Isaac, from the education of my life, am half an Egyptian. The religion of Egypt appeals to the senses, and these, in most men, are far stronger than the imagination; and we Hebrews know nothing of a God, except that our fathers had one, but that He has deserted and left us, their miserable descendants, under the yoke of oppressors. Is it any wonder that the wisest of us turn to the gods of Egypt? If the Egyptians can be happy, and cherish hope, and die in peace under their faith, let us also seek its shelter, and let their gods be our gods! Such is the prevailing language and growing feeling of our people." This was all said in a tone of sadness and bitterness; while that despair of which he spoke, cast its shadow heavily over his noble countenance. I arose soon afterwards, and took my leave of him, more and more deeply interested, dear mother, in the history and condition of this singular people. Your affectionate son, SESOSTRIS. LETTER XXI. PALACE OF AMENSE, ISLAND OF RHODA. MY DEAR MOTHER: It is with emotions I am unable to command, that I commence, after a silence of several weeks, another letter to you. I know not how, properly to unfold and rightly to present before you the extraordinary events which have transpired since I last wrote to you. But I will endeavor to give a narrative of the unparalleled circumstances, in the order of their occurrence up to the present time, and will keep you advised of the progress of this remarkable and mysterious matter, as each day it develops itself.