When we find that these highly intricate and artificial calculations of advanced astrological and astronomical lore existed at the dawn of Chaldæan history, and are found in so many and such widely separated races and regions, it is impossible to avoid two conclusions.
1st. That an immense time must have elapsed since the rude Accadian Highlanders first settled in and reclaimed the alluvial valleys and marshy deltas of the Tigris and Euphrates.
2nd. That the intercourse between remote regions, whether by land or sea, and by commerce or otherwise, must have been much closer in prehistoric times than has been generally supposed.
As in the days of the week, so in the festivals of the year, we trace their first origin to astronomical observations. When nations passed from the condition of savages, hunters, or nomads, into the agricultural stage, and developed dense populations, cities, temples, priests, and an organized society, we find the oldest traces of it everywhere in the science of astronomy. They watched the phases of the moon, counted the planets, followed the sun in its annual course, marking it first by seasons, and, as science advanced, by its progress through groups of fixed stars fancifully defined as constellations. Everywhere the moon seems to have been taken as the first standard for measuring time beyond the primary unit of day and night. Its name very generally denotes the "Measurer" in primitive languages, and it appears as the male, and the sun as female, in the oldest mythologies—a distinction of sex which is still maintained in modern German. This is natural, for the monthly changes of the moon come much more frequently, and are more easily measured from day to day, than the annual courses of the sun. But, as observations accumulate and become more accurate, it is found that the sun, and not the moon, regulates the seasons, and that the year repeats on a larger scale the phenomenon presented by the day and night, of a birth, growth, maturity, decay, and death of the sun, followed by a resurrection or new birth, when the same cycle begins anew. Hence the oldest civilized nations have taken from the two phenomena of the day and year the same fundamental ideas and festivals. The ideas are those of a miraculous birth, death, and resurrection, and of an upper and lower world, the one of light and life, the other of darkness and death, through which the sun-god and human souls have to pass to emerge again into life. The festivals are those of the four great divisions of the year: the winter solstice, when the aged sun sinks into the tomb and rises again with a new birth; the spring equinox, when he passes definitively out of the domain of winter into that of summer; the summer solstice, when he is in full manhood, "rejoicing like a giant to run his course," and withering up vegetation as with the hot breath of a raging lion; and, finally, the autumnal equinox, when he sinks once more into the wintry half of the year and fades daily amidst storms and deluges to the tomb from which he started. Of these festivals Christmas and Easter have survived to the present day, and the last traces of the feast of the summer solstice are still lingering in the remote parts of Scotland and Ireland in the Bel fires, which, when I was young, were lighted on Midsummer night on the highest hills of Orkney and Shetland. As a boy, I have rushed, with my playmates, through the smoke of those bonfires without a suspicion that we were repeating the homage paid to Baal in the Valley of Hinnom.
When we turn from science to art and industry, the same conclusion of immense antiquity is forcibly impressed on us. In Egypt the reign of Menes, 5000 b.c., was signalized by a great engineering work, which would have been a considerable achievement at the present day. He built a great embankment, which still remains, by which the old course of the Nile close to the Libyan hills was diverted, and a site obtained for the new capital of Memphis on the west side of the river, placing it between the city and any enemy from the east. At the same time this dyke assisted in regulating the flow of the inundation, and it may be compared for magnitude and utility to the modern barrage attempted by Linant Bey and carried out by Sir Colin Moncrieff. Evidently such a work implies great engineering skill, and great resources, and it prepares us for what we have seen a few centuries later in the construction of the Great Pyramids.
Many of the most famous cities and temples also of Egypt date back for their original foundation to a period prior to that of Menes. There is indeed every reason to suppose that one of the most colossal and remarkable monuments, the Sphynx, with the little temple of granite and alabaster between its paws, is older than the accession of Menes. A tablet discovered by Mariette informs us that Khufu, the builder of the Great Pyramid, discovered this temple, which had been buried in the sand, and restored it. If a building of such simplicity and solidity of structure required repairs, it must have existed for a long time and been lost sight of. It is almost certain also that if such a colossal and celebrated monument as the Sphynx had been constructed by any of the historical kings, it would have been mentioned by Manetho, as for instance is that of the step-pyramid of Sakkarah by the fourth king of the first dynasty, and of a temple of Pthah at Memphis, and a treatise on medicine, by the king who succeeded Menes. The name of the Sphynx also, "the great Hor," points to the period of the Horsheshu, or ruler priests of Horus, prior to the foundation of the empire by Menes, and to the time before Osiris superseded Horus, as the favourite personification of the Solar God.
Be this as it may, there is abundant proof that at the dawn of Egyptian history, some 7000 years ago, the arts of architecture, engineering, irrigation, and agriculture had reached a high level corresponding to that shown by the state of religion, science, and letters. A little later the paintings on the tombs of the Old Empire show that all the industrial arts, such as spinning, weaving, working in wood and metals, rearing cattle, and a thousand others, which are the furniture of an old civilized country, were just as well understood and practised in Egypt 6000 or 7000 years ago as they are at the present day.
This being the case, I must refer those who wish to pursue this branch of the subject to professed works on Egyptology. For my present purpose, if the oldest records of monuments prove the existence of a long antecedent civilization, it is superfluous to trace the proofs in detail through the course of later ages.
When we turn to the Fine Arts we find the same evidence. The difficulty is not to trace a golden age up to rude beginnings, but to explain the seeming paradox that the oldest art is the best. A visit to the Museum of Boulak, where Mariette's collection of works of the first six dynasties is deposited, will convince any one that the statues, statuettes, wall-pictures, and other works of art of the Ancient Empire from Memphis and its cemetery of Sakkarah, are in point of conception and execution superior to those of a later period. None of the later statues equal the tour de force by which the majestic portrait statue of Chephren, the builder of the Boulak Museum, from Gizeh.—According to the chronological table of Mariette, this statue is over 6000 years old. From a photograph by Brugsch Bey.] second great pyramid, has been chiselled out from a block of diorite, one of the hardest stones known, and hardly assailable by the best modern tools. Nor has portraiture in wood or stone ever surpassed the ease, grace, and life-like expression of such statues as that known as the Village Sheik, from its resemblance to the functionary who filled that office 6000 years later in the village where the statue was discovered; or those of the kneeling scribes, one handing in his accounts, the other writing from dictation. And the pictures on the walls of tombs, of houses, gardens, fishing and musical parties, and animals and birds of all kinds, tame and wild, are equally remarkable for their colouring and drawing, and for the vivacity and accuracy with which attitudes and expressions are rendered. In short Egypt begins where most modern countries seem to be ending, with a very perfect school of realistic art.