Egypt of the Pharaohs and of the Khedivé

by F. Barham Zincke

Herodotus saw it after its partial restoration by the Dodecarchs. They had restored twelve of its courts, one for each of themselves. Those were days of decadence, when what would contribute to the greatness, not of the kingdom, but of the individual ruler, was the governing idea in royal minds. It had first fallen into decay, because into disuse, during the long period of Hyksos occupation; and on the rise of the new monarchy the place of assembly had been removed to Thebes, where Sethos had constructed his grand hypostyle hall for that very purpose. It had, therefore, at the time when the twelve kings took it in hand, been disused and dilapidated for a period of between fifteen and twenty centuries, probably for as long a time as has elapsed from the days of Augustus to our own day. In that long period we can imagine to what an extent it had been resorted to as a quarry for limestone, and building materials. This will account for the restorations of the twelve kings having been so considerable, that Herodotus speaks of them as having been the builders of the structure he saw.

Above two thousand years more have since elapsed, the whole of which have been years of neglect, and wilful dilapidation; and sad, indeed, is now the state of the grand building, once the grandest in all the world, upon which men had bestowed so much labour and thought, and of which those, to whom it belonged, had been so proud. An Arab canal has been carried through the centre of it. What remains is buried in the rubbish-heaps formed by its own overthrow and destruction. Still, there must be much within and beneath those heaps that might be disinterred. The whole ought to be carefully and critically examined. It is evident that these remains, from their extent and their connexion with the old monarchy, of which the original structure was the chief and most historical monument, are the most promising of all fields for Egyptological investigation.

CHAPTER XV.
HELIOPOLIS.

A sense of our connexion with the past vastly enlarges our sympathies, and supplies additional worlds for their exercise.—Edinburgh Review.

In going to Heliopolis I turned out of the way a few steps to look at the old sycamore many a pilgrim visits in the belief that Joseph and Mary, and the young Child, during their flight into Egypt, rested in its shade. There is no intimation that the Holy Family went beyond Pelusium, or Bubastis. To have gone so far would satisfy the requirements of the sacred narrative. As they were poor, probably they did not go far into the land, except that it might have been in the exercise of Joseph’s trade: though indeed I cannot imagine any one in Egypt, except a Jew, employing a Jewish carpenter. Of course, of the Jews who went down into Egypt there would be some who would be desirous of visiting Heliopolis, the On of Genesis, which was very interestingly connected with Jewish history; and, therefore, it is just possible the Holy Family may have gone so far.

But as to this tree. If one of its kind could possibly have lived so many centuries in Egypt, which is highly improbable, even under all the circumstances most favourable for the supply of water and protection from the wind, it would have required an oft-repeated miracle to have saved it from the axe during the many long periods of disorder Egypt has passed through since Joseph’s sojourn. The wood of a large tree is, in Egypt, too tempting at such times to be long spared.

I do not know the date of the first mention of this tree, but I think two hundred and fifty years would amply satisfy all the appearance of age it presents. Pococke, from whom I may observe in passing, that a great deal of the information, and many of the learned references contained in several modern works on Egypt, have been borrowed without acknowledgment, and in some cases taken verbatim, tells us that at the date of his visit, which was in 1737, a tree, I conclude the one still standing, was shown by the Copts as the one that afforded shelter to the Holy Family; but that the Latins denied its genuineness, affirming that they had cut down the true tree, that is to say, the one that had previously done duty in supplying a visible object for the legend, and had carried it to Jerusalem. This was probably false. Supposing it, however, to be true, it was a discreditable act, such as you might have expected from such monks.

But we have arrived at the tree. It at once appears that the feelings of some of the party are too deep for utterance. On these occasions knowledge and reason have to fight, against something or other, a battle that is lost often before it is begun. Belief is so much more natural and pleasant than iconoclasm. If you would but let yourself alone—of course you say nothing that would disillusion other people—their devout and heart-contenting imaginations would be reflected in yourself. As it is, you cannot help feeling the contagion. The upshot of the matter is, you are not altogether satisfied with your own unbelief, nor at all benefited by your half disposition to participate in the belief of your friends. As to the believer, his emotions are every way pleasant and satisfactory to himself.

But what took me to On was not to see the tree, but that I might stand before the Obelisk of Osirtasen, the oldest obelisk in Egypt, which has been pointing to the sky now for more than four thousand years—from the days of the old monarchy, previous to the invasion of the Hyksos. To them we may feel thankful for having allowed it to stand; and there was no International in those days. It had been erected for some centuries, when Abraham came down into Egypt. Joseph and Moses, who had both been admitted to the Priest Caste, and were learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, stood before it, and read the inscription, word for word, as the erudite Egyptologer reads it this day. Thales, Solon, Pythagoras, and Plato all studied here. Heliopolis was then the most celebrated university in the world for philosophy and science. Strabo was shown the house in which Plato had resided. Herodotus found the priests here in better repute for their learning than any elsewhere in Egypt. All these, and a host of other well-known Greeks, Romans, and Jews resided and studied here, during the many centuries of its renown. They all visited again and again, and walked round and deciphered, or had deciphered to them, the inscription on each side of this spit of granite. In those days it seemed to them a wonderful monument of hoar antiquity—far beyond anything that could be seen in their own countries. Everything they then saw at Heliopolis has been reduced to mounds of rubbish now, excepting this single stone. What a halo of interest invests it! Who would not wish to see it? Who can be unmoved as he looks upon it? Fifty centuries of history, and all the wisdom of Egypt are buried in the dust under his feet. You shift your position, and then smile at yourself—a sort of feeling had come upon you that you were obstructing the view of Joseph, or of Herodotus; that you were standing in the way of Plato, or of Moses.