d, which he brings in the name of his
late father, may be said to be positively kingly."

"We owe him gratitude for these gifts," said the treasurer, "and the
high honor he pays his father, even after his death, is exceptional and
far-famed."

"He emulates him in every respect," sneered Gagabu; "and though he
does not resemble him in any feature, grows more and more like him.
But unfortunately, it is as the goose resembles the swan, or the owl
resembles the eagle. For his father's noble pride he has overbearing
haughtiness; for kindly severity, rude harshness; for dignity, conceit;
for perseverance, obstinacy. Devout he is, and we profit by his gifts.
The treasurer may rejoice over them, and the dates off a crooked tree
taste as well as those off a straight one. But if I were the Divinity I
should prize them no higher than a hoopoe's crest; for He, who sees into
the heart of the giver-alas! what does he see! Storms and darkness
are of the dominion of Seth, and in there--in there--" and the old man
struck his broad breast "all is wrath and tumult, and there is not a
gleam of the calm blue heaven of Ra, that shines soft and pure in the
soul of the pious; no, not a spot as large as this wheaten-cake."

"Hast thou then sounded to the depths of his soul?" asked the haruspex.

"As this beaker!" exclaimed Gagabu, and he touched the rim of an empty
drinking-vessel. "For fifteen years without ceasing. The man has been of
service to us, is so still, and will continue to be. Our leeches extract
salves from bitter gall and deadly poisons; and folks like these--"

"Hatred speaks in thee," said the haruspex, interrupting the indignant
old man.

"Hatred!" he retorted, and his lips quivered. "Hatred?" and he struck
his breast with his clenched hand. "It is true, it is no stranger to
this old heart. But open thine ears, O haruspex, and all you others too
shall hear. I recognize two sorts of hatred. The one is between man
and man; that I have gagged, smothered, killed, annihilated--with
what efforts, the Gods know. In past years I have certainly tasted its
bitterness, and served it like a wasp, which, though it knows that in
stinging it must die, yet uses its sting. But now I am old in years,
that is in knowledge, and I know that of all the powerful impulses
which stir our hearts, one only comes solely from Seth, one only
belongs wholly to the Evil one and that is hatred between man and man.
Covetousness may lead to industry, sensu