Wonderful, incomprehensible, dear mother, above all things I have seen in Egypt, is the mysterious power of these magicians and sorcerers. Originally of the priestly order, they have advanced into deeper and deeper mysteries, until the hierarchy of the regular temple-worship fear them, and deny their ecclesiastical character, saying, "that they have climbed so high the mountains of Osiris, that they have fallen headlong over their summits into the dark realms of Typhon, and owe their dread power to his auspices." Whatever be the source of their powerful art, dear mother, there is no doubt of its reality. Not even all the invocations, sacrifices, oblations, prayers, libations, and exercises of the regular priesthood can compete with these magicians and sorcerers. They can convert day into night! destroy the shadow of an obelisk! fill the air with a shower of sand, or of flowers! convert their rods into vines that bear grapes! and walk with living asps as if they were almond or acacia rods! They can present before the inquirer, the face or scene in a distant land that is desired to be beheld! They can remove blocks of porphyry by a touch of the finger, and make a feather heavy as gold! They can cause invisible music in the air, and foretell the rain! And when extraordinary motives and rewards are brought to bear upon them, they can, by their united skill and necromantic art, aided by sorcery, reproduce the past, as in the case of Remeses! These powerful, yet dreaded and hated men, have for ages been an appendage to the crown, and call themselves the "servants of the Pharaohs." The kings of Egypt, who have protected, favored, and sought their assistance, have also trembled at their power. Without question they are aided by the evil genii; and perform their works through the agency of the spirit of evil. This, dear mother, will be the last letter I shall write you from Egypt. Accompanied by Remeses, I shall to-morrow embark in my galley for Pelusium. My friend, the Admiral Pathromenes, will accompany us to the mouth of the Eastern Nile. I ought to say that King Mœris, now Pharaoh-elect, has extended towards me marked civilities, and seeks for a continuance of friendly intercourse. I shall bear a royal letter from him to your majesty, expressive of his respect for you, and his desire to perpetuate the alliance. But I have no love for the man! If I can, I will raise an army in Phœnicia, after I see the King of Cyprus chained to the poop of my galley, and, placing Remeses at the head, invade Egypt, call the Hebrews to arms, and, overturning the throne of Mœris, place my friend in his seat. Did not the dying queen prophesy that he was born to rule? It is over Egypt he will yet wield the sceptre! I will do my part, dear mother, to fulfil the prophecy.