From the fathers

It was revealed to me that those things are good which yet are corrupted which neither if they were supremely good nor unless they were good could be corrupted.  Ah, curse you!  That’s saint Augustine.

—­Why will you jews not accept our culture, our religion and our
language?  You are A tribe of Nomad herdsmen:  We are A mighty people.  You
have no cities nor no wealth:  Our cities are hives of humanity and our
galleys, trireme and QUADRIREME, Laden with all manner merchandise furrow
the waters of the known globe.  You have but emerged from primitive
conditions:  We have A literature, A priesthood, an agelong history and A
polity.

Nile.

Child, man, effigy.

By the Nilebank the babemaries kneel, cradle of bulrushes:  a man supple in combat:  stonehorned, stonebearded, heart of stone.

—­You pray to A local and obscure idol:  Our temples, majestic and
mysterious, are the abodes of Isis and Osiris, of Horus and Ammon ra. 
Yours serfdom, awe and humbleness:  Ours thunder and the seas.  Israel is
weak and few are her children:  Egypt is an host and terrible are her arms.
 Vagrants and DAYLABOURERS are you called:  The world trembles at our name.

A dumb belch of hunger cleft his speech.  He lifted his voice above it boldly: 

—­But, ladies and gentlemen, had the youthful Moses listened to and
accepted that view of life, had he bowed his head and bowed his will and
bowed his spirit before that arrogant admonition he would never have
brought the chosen people out of their house of bondage, nor followed the
pillar of the cloud by day.