The Pillar of Fire; or, Israel in Bondage

by J. H. Ingraham

LETTER III.

The City of the Sun.

My dear Mother:

The climate of this land of the Sun is so delightful to the senses that one feels a constant buoyancy of the heart, and experiences in the consciousness of mere existence, an undefinable and delicious joy; and herein I discover the key to the cheerful gayety of the Egyptians. The skies are blue with eternal sunshine. The atmosphere, free from moisture, is so transparent and crystalline, that distant objects lose one half their distance to the eye. The sun rises ever with cloudless splendor, and sets in a sea of golden glory, without a shadow of a cloud falling upon his fiery disk. The moon sails by night across the starry ocean of the heavens, with a brilliancy unknown in other lands; while the stars burn with an increased intensity, and seem enlarged by means of the purity of the upper air through which we behold them. It is no marvel that the dwellers in this happy land are wise, and love art, and delight in forms of beauty, and build palaces for gods! But I promised in my last letter, dear mother, to describe what particularly passed in the long and interesting interview which the Prince Remeses had with me on his first visit to my palace. I have already described his personal appearance; but, as ladies are always interested in costume, I will relate to you how he was attired.

The Egyptians, you are aware, always shave the head and beard closely, save when in mourning. They have nevertheless a plaited lock of hair on the height of the forehead, which falls down over the ear. Such is the fashion with which the youthful god Horus is represented in paintings and statues, though the beautiful locks of this deity are not so closely removed but that a crest of golden tresses covers the top of his head like the plume of a helmet. Something in this manner Prince Remeses wore the lock of jet-black hair which remained. But upon his head he had a rich cap or kaftan of green silk, the front of which was shaped like the beak of an eagle, while behind, it fell to the shoulders in a sort of cape, fashioned like drooping wings—the whole most becoming and striking. In the eyes of the eagle, blazed diamonds, and his plumage was studded with precious stones, beryls, sardine gems, and the onyx-stone. This head-costume, in varied forms, is worn by all the nobles and men of high rank. With some the ibis or the vulture, with others the lion or the hawk, form the insignia. I have seen him since in his chariot, in a close-fitting helmet-cap of burnished gold, resembling that of the Egyptian god of war, which, with his martial form and commanding glance, lent to him the aspect of the god himself!

His vesture was of fine linen, worn in numerous folds about his form; and a surcoat embroidered with gold in royal devices, left open in front, displayed a girdle of links of steel and gold, exquisitely and cunningly woven, to which hung his jewelled sword. About his neck was fastened, by a pearl of price, a collar of the red-hued gold of Ophir, massive and large; and upon his manly chest glittered a breastplate, sparkling with the enamelled cartouch of the god Athothis, the deity who presided at his birth, and who is the same as our Taut, the inventor of letters.

And here let me remark, that writing by letters is scarcely yet known in Egypt, the hieroglyphic form being still in current use; but Remeses has cultivated the Phœnician art, and writes with a character of his own construction, with the facility and beauty of one of our own men of letters. Ere long, through his influence, this form of writing will supersede wholly the hieroglyph, which is cumbersome and difficult to be understood, save by a native-born Egyptian; yet I have commenced the study of it, and can read already the cartouch of Mitres, on his obelisk over against the portico of my residence. Of this obelisk, which is ninety-nine feet high, it is said that when it was about to be elevated to its position, he employed 20,000 workmen, and apprehensive that the engineer would not raise it with sufficient care, he bound the prince his son to the apex while it lay on the ground, and thus effectually guaranteed the safety of his monument. This was many centuries ago; but, as I gazed to-day upon the towering apex, I could not but think, with a tremor of the nerves, of the hapless young prince as he mounted into the sky, on that slow and perilous journey!

Have I not been digressing, dear mother? But you must not, in familiar letters, look for artistic continuity of narrative. I shall digress, or go from subject to subject, as collateral objects suggest themselves in passing them; but, nevertheless, I shall not leave your curiosity unsatisfied upon any matter which I have commenced, but in due time, from every digression, shall return to it. I will, therefore, this apology once for all, return to the princely Remeses.

He wore upon his right hand a signet-ring of silver, once belonging to his ancestor, Amosis, the leader of the XVIIIth dynasty; and also a large ring of pure gold, set with a chrysoprasus, and bearing the shield of Osirtasen I., or Sesostris—for he has both names in history—for whom I am named.

In all respects he was attired with magnificence, and yet with simplicity, as became a man of taste and a prince. The profuse ornaments of jewelry, with which I perceive the nobles about the court load themselves, his good sense disdains. He retains only the insignia belonging to his high rank.

I have said that his hair is raven-black, and may add that his eyes are large, expressive, heavily-lidded, and with a peculiar expression of mingled softness and brilliancy. Unlike the Egyptians, his features are truly Syriac, with the high arched nose and full red lips of the inhabitants of the city of Damascus. Do you remember when we last year visited Damascus, seeing, in the painted chamber of the adytum of the mausoleum of Eliezer, a representation of the Hebrew prince Abram, of Syria? To that venerable prince, whose virtues and wisdom tradition would have preserved, even if he had not erected this tomb to his own and his master's memory, Eliezer was chamberlain or steward for many years. Returning to Damascus with great wealth, which Abram had bestowed upon him, he brought with him from Egypt, where he had once been, a cunning artist in colors, who decorated the tomb he erected for himself, in that wonderful manner which has excited the admiration of all beholders. But, dear mother, beautiful as that is, and well preserved as it has been for four hundred years, it is not to be compared with art in Egypt at the present day. You remember you were struck with the majesty and almost celestial sublimity of the old shepherd prince's face, which the affection of his steward has preserved. You spoke of the eagle-like nose, the dark, yet tearful-looking eyes, with the drooping lid just casting into shadow the depth of its inner light. You remember the nobly shaped head and commanding brow. Such a head and profile is that of Remeses, the Prince of Egypt. My first look at his face recalled the portrait in the tomb, which its founder has so beautifully and modestly inscribed:

"ELIEZER OF DAMASCUS,

THE STEWARD OF ABRAM,

PRINCE

BELOVED OF THE GODS."

After I had received Remeses into my house, I conducted him through a two-valved door, opened before us by my chief butler, into the superb apartment allotted for recreation and repose. My mansion consisted of a court encircled by columns, and from it extended corridors to various chambers. The court is crossed by avenues of trees, while fountains and flowering plants refresh the eye in every direction.

The apartment into which Remeses came with me, was divided into tall panels, upon which were executed, in the most brilliant colors, the fairest pictures. These panels were intercolumnar, each column adorned with carvings of leaves and flowers, and terminating in a capital in imitation of an open lotus. This room was open to the air, but shielded from the sun by a purple awning that extended to its four sides, and was a little raised above the walls upon the columns, so that the breezes, which were wafted over the gardens of flowers, might freely enter.

This was my reception-room, or mándara, as it is termed. A beautiful cornice surrounds the whole room. The furniture is of the most tasteful and luxurious description, and of forms and uses unknown to our severer Syrians. There are tables of Arabian wood, inlaid with ivory; sofas of ebony and other rare materials, covered with silken cushions; a chair ornamented with the skin of a leopard; another, of still more graceful outline, embroidered with silk and threads of gold; another, the frame of which recedes gradually, terminating at its summit in a graceful curve, and supported by resting upon the back of a swan with feathers of ivory. A chair for repose is covered with gilded leather, and arched by a rich canopy of painted flowers, birds, and fancy devices. The legs of all these chairs were in imitation of some wild beast, while the arms represented in ivory or ebony the beaks of birds,—that of the ibis, sacred as it is, being the favorite. There are couches, too, which are nothing more nor less than crouching lions gilded, upon the backs of which the sleeper reposes on gorgeous housings stuffed with the softest down. The shapes of the furniture exhaust all forms. There are, in some of my rooms, chairs shaped like harps, others like leaves of the fig-tree, others like birds. Tables of ebony are supported on the heads of naked Nubian slaves two feet high, carved in ebony, while the bronze lamps are uplifted upon the palm of a dancing girl cast in bronze, who seems to hold the light for you while you read or write. Carpets and foot-stools, covered with embroidery, are not wanting; and I have three round tables—one of metal, one of ivory, one of ebony—polished like mirrors of steel. These are covered with ornaments of the most exquisite finish and beauty; and before my window where I write is a sort of bureau ornamented with hieroglyphics, carved in intaglio, inlaid with sycamore, tamarisk, and palm woods, and enriched with bosses of solid gold.

In this apartment I received Remeses. Placing a seat by the window, I sat near him. For a moment he surveyed me with a close but courteous scrutiny, such as strangers irresistibly cast upon each other after a first meeting.

"I hope you are at home here, noble Sesostris," he said. "This is one of my palaces, but I have more than I can make use of, such is the bounty and affection of my mother."

"I have every comfort and luxury—more than I desire," I answered. "I was not prepared to find in Egypt such splendor and magnificence. The half, my noble prince, has not been told the world."

"And yet you have seen but a small portion of this kingdom," he said, with a smile of pardonable pride. "Although On is the city of palaces and temples, for there is a temple to each of the three hundred and sixty gods of our calendar year, yet Memphis is the true seat of our empire. We rule Egypt from Memphis: we worship the gods from On."

"But is not the great god Apis the peculiar deity of Memphis?" I asked; "and is not his worship the most magnificent and imposing on earth?"

"Yet here in the City of the Sun is the temple of Mnevis, the sacred ox of On, honored with a worship as profound and universal as that of Apis."

"But do the more polished Egyptians indeed worship the ox, either here or in Memphis?" I asked with some hesitation, for, as prince, Remeses is first priest of the realm, next to the high-priest of Osiris.

"Do not fear to ask freely any questions, my dear Sesostris," he said. "We do not worship these animals. They are but the embodiment of attributes. Under both of these gods, at On and at Memphis, Osiris the great Judge of men is veiled. They are but the living images of Osiris. The origin of their introduction is unknown save to the priests, whose office it is to keep the records of all things appertaining to religion."

"What is revealed concerning the history of Osiris?" I asked; "for I am at a loss to understand the exact relation a deity known over the world by name, but of whose worship little is understood, holds to Egypt and to the other gods. At home, in Syria, I have marvelled how the Egyptian mythology could stand, when made up of such contradictory elements,—a part directing the worship of an invisible divinity, and a part directing the adoration of the hosts of heaven and beasts of the earth. In Phœnicia we worship the Invisible through the sun, as his representative. We worship nothing earthly. In Palestine, south of us, Ashteroth, Belus, and images of stone and brass are adored, but not with us."

"The Egyptians, through all their forms, and by all their gods, adore the Supreme Infinite, my Sesostris," said the prince. "The history of our faith is briefly this, according to common tradition: Osiris was in the beginning the one lord of worlds; the sun of truth and the glory of his universe. He came upon earth for the benefit of mankind. Before his coming, the ox and all other animals were wild, and of no service to man. The Nile was a terror to Egypt. Vegetation had perished. He came as a 'manifester of good and truth,' as saith the great golden book in the Hall of Books. He entered into all things, and infused his life, and good, and uses into all. He bound the Nile to its banks, by breasting its flood and subduing it. His spirit passed into the bull, and all cattle. He tempered the heat of the sun, and drew the poison from the moon. The earth became his bride, under the name of Isis; and brought forth Horus, and the order of equal times, and thus man was benefited and the earth made habitable. Upon this, his brother Sethis, who represented 'evil,' as Osiris did 'good,' sought his destruction, and caused him to be hated and put to death. He was buried, and rose again, and became the judge of the dead. And this legend or fable is the foundation, noble Sesostris, of our mythology. The sun, moon, Nile, animals, and vegetables even, are regarded as sacred, therefore, because the spirit or soul of Osiris had been infused into them, to change them from evil to good. Thus one god is worshipped through visible objects, which he has consecrated,—objects once his temples and abodes; for, says the sacred record, he had to enter into every thing which he restored to the use of man."

"The mythology of Egypt," I said, "is at once relieved, O prince, from the charge of grossness and superstition which has been attached to it. I can now understand more clearly your system of religion."

"The mysteries of our religion are still unfathomable," answered Remeses. "It is doubtful if they are fully comprehended by the priests. In the multiplicity and diversity of objects of worship I am often confounded, and it is a relief to me to pass by all material forms of Osiris, and send my mind upward only to himself!"

"That is a noble conception, great prince," I said, admiring the lofty and almost divine expression with which this pure sentiment lighted up his fine countenance.

"But the people of Egypt are not able to comprehend Deity except through visible forms; and, in order to convey an impression of the abstract notions men form of the attributes of Deity, it will always be necessary, perhaps, to distinguish them by some fixed representation; hence the figures of Osiris under the various forms in which he is worshipped, of Pthah, of Amun, Neith, and other gods and goddesses, were invented by the ancient priests as the signs of the various attributes of the Deity. And as the subtlety of speculation expanded the simple principles of our mythology, the divine nature was divided and subdivided, until any thing which seemed to bear any analogy to it was deified, received a figure or form as a god, and was admitted into the Pantheon of the kingdom, to a share of the worship of the people."

"And this nicety of philosophical speculation," I said, "must have given rise to the several grades of deities in Egypt."

"Yes; the gods of the first, second, and third orders: each with its system of priesthood and rituals."

"In all this, I see you give no divine honors to departed heroes," I remarked.

"No. Our gods are none of them deified men. They are not like Bacchus, and Hercules, and other of the ancient and Syriac deities, who were human heroes. Our mythology is a pure spiritualism: its object, Divinity, worshipped by emblems, symbols, signs, figures, and representative attributes."

"It is a pantheism, then, rather than a polytheism," I remarked.

"You speak justly, Sesostris," he said. "The figures of our gods, which you see hewn in marble, painted on temples, standing colossal monoliths in the entrance of the city, are but vicarious forms, not intended to be looked upon as real divine personages. Not a child in Egypt believes that a being exists, with the head of a bird joined to the human form—as the statue of Thoth, with the ibis head, in front of the temple; or under the form of a Cynocephalus, having the horns of the moon upon his head; or as the goddess Justice, without a head; or a bird with the head of a woman; or a god with a ram-headed vulture's head, or that of a hawk, like the deity Horus; or Anubis, with the head of a dog. Why these unnatural forms were chosen as emblems of these gods, the priests fancifully explain, and perhaps in many cases truly. They are all, simply personifications of divine attributes."

"Abuses," I remarked, when he had thus eloquently spoken, "must naturally flow from such representations, and these emblems, among the people, soon assume the importance of the divine personages to which they appertain. The mass of the population must be idolaters."

"You speak truly. They are. The distinction between the image and the idea which it represents is too subtle for the ignorant; they lose sight of the attribute, by filling the whole horizon of their minds with its image. Thus the Egyptian mind is clearly more and more being drawn away from its ancient spiritual worship, to a superstitious veneration for images, which originally were intended only to control and fix attention, or to represent some religious tradition or idea of divinity."

"Are not Apis, the sacred bull, at Memphis, and Mnevis at On, regarded as gods?" I asked.

"Only as the soul of Osiris. The bull is the most powerful animal in all Egypt, and hence a type of the Deity. But this subject, my dear Sesostris," added the prince, with a fine look of friendship, "you will know more of by and by, as you dwell among us. I will command that you shall have every facility from the priests, and also from the philosophers and wise men, in your further studies of our people. I am happy to have given you your first lesson in Egyptian lore."

"You have done me infinite honor, noble Remeses," I replied, returning with gratitude his looks of kindness. "I hope ere long so to profit by your information as to understand your ancient system of religion. From what you have said, I perceive that it stands above all others on earth, rightly interpreted; and before its spiritual essence, our worship in Phœnicia—which is chiefly a union of idolatry and Sabæanism—is pure materialism."

At this moment we rose, as by one impulse, and walked out upon the terrace to enjoy the breeze which was waving refreshingly, to our eyes, the branches of a palm that stood before the door. The day was intensely hot. In the shade of the columns on the square, many of the citizens had gathered for shelter from the sun's beams. But still in its burning heat the bondmen of whom I have spoken, toiled on, with their burdens of brick. Not far off were a score under one taskmaster, who stood by with a long staff with which he severely beat an old man, who had sunk to the earth under the combined heat of the sun and the weight he was compelled to bear. My heart was touched at once with pity and indignation.

"What unhappy people are these, O prince," I said, "who endure such heavy labor?"

"Hebrews!" he answered, haughtily and indifferently. "Hast thou not heard of these bond-slaves of our land? They have been in Egypt several generations. They build our cities, our walls, our canals. They number two millions, and are the hereditary slaves of the Pharaohs."

"To what circumstances do they owe their captivity?" I asked.

"If it will interest you, my Sesostris," he said, "I will at another time relate their history."

"It will gratify me to listen to it," I answered. "I am struck with the Syriac cast of their features."

"Indeed! They originally came from Syria. Do they preserve still the lineaments of their country?"

"Strikingly so," I answered.

We now walked the noble terrace together, while he pointed out to me the prospect from it. In view was one half the city, and the dark "Lake of the Dead," of which I will speak hereafter; the avenues of sphinxes; the gigantic gateways or pylones and obelisks on the river; and the mighty Nile itself, flowing like an ever-lengthening sea amid the fairest scenery of earth. Reposing upon its bosom, like a gigantic floating garden, was visible the noble isle of Rhoda, decked with gorgeous palaces,—one of which, said Remeses, is the favorite home of his royal mother. Still beyond this lovely island rose from the water the gardens, villas, palaces, temples, and propyla which lay between Memphis and the river; while the city of Apis, "the diadem of Egypt," in all the glory of architectural majesty and beauty, reposed on the plain beyond; the mighty pyramids, with their winged temples and colossal dromos of sphinxes, filling the background of this matchless scene.

Your affectionate son,

Sesostris.