When we had gained this terrace, we beheld before us both pyramids, and between them the pylon of a vast temple, which, extending its great arms on each side, embraced the twin pyramids in one godlike edifice, of grandeur and dimensions immeasurable to the eye, and overpowering to the imagination. To explain more clearly what I beheld: Between, but in advance of them, towered a colossal pylon, to which each pyramid was a wing, united by a wall of brick, ninety feet high, encased with marble. This central temple, or pylon, was as massive and solemn in its aspect as the pyramids which formed its propyla. For a few moments I stood and gazed with awe. Until the spectator reaches the terrace, the whole effect is not perceived; for, though the central temple is visible, even from the Lake of the Dead, it appears as if merely intervening; it is only on the terrace before which the sphinx, the gigantic watcher before the pyramids, reposes, that the whole grand design is comprehended. Had I been all at once brought in sight of the House of Osiris, in the realm of the gods, I should not have been more overawed and impressed.
This temple, built of brick, with marble casing, has in its outline the ruinous aspect of great age, and is not in as good preservation as the pyramids, although subsequently erected, not as an after-thought, but in keeping with the great design.
But a visitor is announced as in the hall of reception; therefore, at present, dear mother, farewell,
Sesostris
LETTER XVI.
City of On.
My honored and dear Mother:
I have described my chariot ride through the plain of tombs, along the magnificent causeway, which extends from the Lake of the Dead to the feet of the sphinx. All that I beheld of the grandeur of the monuments showed, that the Egyptians of past generations who built them, and lie buried here, were a populous and powerful nation, in advance of all others in the arts of life; since not only do the cities for the living, but the "Homes of the Dead," attest their taste and love for the beautiful and sublime in nature and art. The culmination of all Egyptian marvels in architecture is the sphinx-guarded pyramidal temple.
We approached the central pylon along a paved court, across which two hundred chariots could have driven in a line. This court was entirely surrounded by a double row of majestic columns, with the lotus-leaf capitals I have before described. The vastness of their proportions seemed to be increased by contrast with a group of priests, who looked like pigmies in size as they stood by their bases. The gigantic entablature, which united their summits, was covered with sacred symbols, richly colored, and crowned with statues of kings, hewn out of the dark-gray granite of Ethiopia. But some of these were mutilated by Time, which, indeed, had thrown its mantle of decay over the whole,—pillars, architecture, and sculpture; for this court is coeval with the sphinx crouched at its entrance, and but a little later than the two pyramids. In a few centuries, decay will have brought the mighty fabric to the earth; for, massive as it looks, it is built of brick, covered with pictured stucco; but the pyramids of stone, which have withstood the lapse of ages beyond history, will last as long as the everlasting hills of granite from which their enormous blocks were hewn.