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+            <titleStmt>
+                <title>The Epicurean</title>
+                <author><name reg="Moore, Thomas">Thomas Moore</name></author>
+            </titleStmt>
+            <publicationStmt>
+                <publisher>Project Gutenberg</publisher>
+                <date value="2015-06-29">June 29, 2015</date>
+                <idno type='etext-no'>49332</idno>
+                <availability>
+                  <p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere
+                  at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever.
+                  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under
+                  the terms of the Project Gutenberg License online at
+                  www.gutenberg.org/license</p>
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+                <bibl>
+<title>The Epicurean</title>
+                <author><name reg="Moore, Thomas">Thomas Moore</name></author>
+<imprint>
+<pubPlace>London</pubPlace>
+<publisher>Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green</publisher>
+<date>1827</date>
+</imprint>
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+            <date value="2015-06-29">June 29, 2015</date>
+            <respStmt>
+                <resp>Produced by Shaun Pinder, Stefan Cramme and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team 
+at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</resp>
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+            <item>Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1</item>
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+<front>
+<div>
+<divGen type="pgheader" />
+</div>
+<div>
+<divGen type="encodingDesc" />
+</div>
+<div>
+<pgIf output="html">
+  <then><p rend="center"><figure url="images/cover.jpg" id="coverpage"><figDesc>Cover image</figDesc></figure></p></then>
+</pgIf>
+</div>
+<titlePage rend="center; page-break-before: right">
+<pb/>
+<docTitle>
+  <titlePart type="main"><hi rend="font-size: x-large">THE</hi><lb/><lb/>
+<hi rend="font-size: xx-large">EPICUREAN,</hi></titlePart>
+<lb/><lb/>
+<titlePart type="sub"><hi rend="font-size: large">A TALE.</hi></titlePart>
+</docTitle>
+<lb/><lb/>
+<byline>BY<lb/><lb/>
+<docAuthor><hi rend="font-size: x-large">THOMAS MOORE.</hi></docAuthor></byline>
+<lb/><lb/>
+<docEdition><hi rend="bold">Second Edition.</hi></docEdition>
+<lb/><lb/>
+<docImprint><pubPlace><hi rend="font-size: large">LONDON:</hi></pubPlace><lb/>
+<publisher><hi rend="font-size: small">PRINTED FOR</hi><lb/>
+LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN,<lb/>
+<hi rend="font-size: small">PATERNOSTER-ROW.</hi></publisher><lb/>
+<docDate><hi rend="font-size: large">1827.</hi></docDate></docImprint>
+</titlePage>
+<div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb/>
+
+<p rend="font-size: small">
+The Publishers beg to inform the Composers of Music, and
+Music Sellers, that <hi rend="smallcaps">Mr. James Power</hi>, of the Strand, Music
+Seller, is the only person authorized by them to publish the <hi rend="smallcaps">Songs</hi> or
+<hi rend="smallcaps">Verses</hi> in this Work connected with Music.
+</p>
+</div>
+<div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb/>
+<p rend="center">
+TO<lb/>
+<hi rend="font-size: x-large">LORD JOHN RUSSELL</hi><lb/>
+<hi rend="italic">THIS VOLUME</hi><lb/>
+IS INSCRIBED<lb/>
+BY ONE WHO ADMIRES HIS CHARACTER<lb/>
+AND TALENTS,<lb/>
+AND IS PROUD OF HIS FRIENDSHIP.
+</p>
+<pb/>
+</div>
+<div rend="page-break-before: right">
+<pb n="v"/>
+<head>A<lb/>
+LETTER TO THE TRANSLATOR,</head>
+<byline rend="center"><hi rend="font-size: small">FROM</hi><lb/>
+——, <hi rend="smallcaps">Esq.</hi></byline>
+
+<dateline rend="italic">Cairo, June 19. 1800.</dateline>
+
+<salute>My dear Sir,</salute>
+
+<p>
+In a visit I lately paid to the monastery
+of St. Macarius,—which is situated,
+as you know, in the Valley of the Lakes
+of Natron,—I was lucky enough to obtain
+possession of a curious Greek manuscript,
+which, in the hope that you may
+be induced to translate it, I herewith
+send you. Observing one of the monks
+very busily occupied in tearing up, into
+a variety of fantastic shapes, some papers
+<pb n="vi"/>which had the appearance of being the
+leaves of old books, I enquired of him
+the meaning of his task, and received the
+following explanation:—
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Arabs, it seems, who are as fond
+of pigeons as the ancient Egyptians, have
+a superstitious notion that, if they place
+in their pigeon-houses small scraps of
+paper, written over with learned characters,
+the birds are always sure to thrive
+the better for the charm; and the monks,
+who are never slow in profiting by superstition,
+have, at all times, a supply of such
+amulets for purchasers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In general, the holy fathers have been
+in the habit of scribbling these mystic
+fragments, themselves; but a discovery,
+which they have lately made, saves them
+this trouble. Having dug up (as my informant
+stated) a chest of old manuscripts,
+which, being chiefly on the subject of alchemy,
+must have been buried in the time
+of Dioclesian, <q>we thought we could
+not,</q> added the monk, <q>employ such
+<pb n="vii"/>rubbish more properly, than in tearing
+it up, as you see, for the pigeon-houses
+of the Arabs.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On my expressing a wish to rescue
+some part of these treasures from the fate
+to which his indolent fraternity had consigned
+them, he produced the manuscript
+which I have now the pleasure of sending
+you,—the only one, he said, remaining
+entire,—and I very readily paid him the
+price he demanded for it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You will find the story, I think, not
+altogether uninteresting; and the coincidence,
+in many respects, of the curious
+details in Chap. VI. with the description
+of the same ceremonies in the Romance
+of <hi rend="italic">Sethos</hi><note place="foot">The description, here alluded to, may also be
+found, copied <foreign lang="la" rend="italic">verbatim</foreign> from Sethos, in the <q>Voyages
+d’Anténor.</q>—<q>In that philosophical romance,
+called <q>La Vie de Séthos,</q></q> says Warburton,
+<q>we find a much juster account of old Egyptian
+wisdom, than in all the pretended <q>Histoire du
+Ciel.</q></q> <hi rend="italic">Div. Leg.</hi> book 4. sect. 14.</note>, will, I have no doubt, strike
+<pb n="viii"/>you. Hoping that you may be tempted
+to give a translation of this Tale to the
+world,
+</p>
+
+<signed>I am, my dear Sir,<lb/>
+Very truly yours,<lb/>
+——</signed>
+
+</div>
+</front>
+<body rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="1"/><anchor id="Pg001"/>
+
+<p rend="font-size: xx-large; center">
+THE EPICUREAN.
+</p>
+
+<div>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAPTER I.</head>
+
+<p>
+It was in the fourth year of the reign of
+the late Emperor Valerian, that the followers
+of Epicurus, who were at that time
+numerous in Athens, proceeded to the
+election of a person to fill the vacant chair
+of their sect;—and, by the unanimous voice
+of the School, I was the individual chosen
+for their Chief. I was just then entering
+on my twenty-fourth year, and no
+instance had ever before occurred, of a
+person so young being selected for that
+office. Youth, however, and the personal
+advantages that adorn it, were not, it may
+be supposed, among the least valid recommendations,
+to a sect that included within
+its circle all the beauty as well as wit of
+Athens, and which, though dignifying its
+<pb n="2"/><anchor id="Pg002"/>pursuits with the name of philosophy,
+was little else than a pretext for the more
+refined cultivation of pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The character of the sect had, indeed,
+much changed, since the time of its wise
+and virtuous founder, who, while he asserted
+that Pleasure is the only Good, inculcated
+also that Good is the only source of Pleasure.
+The purer part of this doctrine
+had long evaporated, and the temperate
+Epicurus would have as little recognised
+his own sect in the assemblage of
+refined voluptuaries who now usurped its
+name, as he would have known his own
+quiet Garden in the luxurious groves and
+bowers among which the meetings of the
+School were now held.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Many causes, besides the attractiveness
+of its doctrines, concurred, at this period,
+to render our school the most popular of
+any that still survived the glory of Greece.
+It may generally be observed, that the prevalence,
+in one half of a community, of very
+rigid notions on the subject of religion,
+<pb n="3"/><anchor id="Pg003"/>produces the opposite extreme of laxity
+and infidelity in the other; and this kind
+of re-action it was that now mainly contributed
+to render the doctrines of the
+Garden the most fashionable philosophy
+of the day. The rapid progress of the
+Christian faith had alarmed all those, who,
+either from piety or worldliness, were interested
+in the continuance of the old
+established creed—all who believed in
+the Deities of Olympus, and all who
+lived by them. The consequence was,
+a considerable increase of zeal and activity,
+throughout the constituted authorities
+and priesthood of the whole Heathen
+world. What was wanting in sincerity of
+belief was made up in rigour;—the weakest
+parts of the Mythology were those, of
+course, most angrily defended, and any
+reflections, tending to bring Saturn, or his
+wife Ops, into contempt, were punished
+with the utmost severity of the law.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this state of affairs, between the
+alarmed bigotry of the declining Faith,
+<pb n="4"/><anchor id="Pg004"/>and the simple, sublime austerity of her
+rival, it was not wonderful that those lovers
+of ease and pleasure, who had no interest,
+reversionary or otherwise, in the old religion,
+and were too indolent to enquire into
+the sanctions of the new, should take refuge
+from the severities of both under the shelter
+of a luxurious philosophy, which, leaving
+to others the task of disputing about the
+future, centered all its wisdom in the full
+enjoyment of the present.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sectaries of the Garden had, ever
+since the death of their founder, been
+accustomed to dedicate to his memory
+the twentieth day of every month. To
+these monthly rites had, for some time,
+been added a grand annual Festival, in
+commemoration of his birth. The feasts,
+given on this occasion by my predecessors
+in the Chair, had been invariably distinguished
+for their taste and splendour; and
+it was my ambition, not merely to imitate
+this example, but even to render the anniversary,
+now celebrated under my auspices,
+<pb n="5"/><anchor id="Pg005"/>so brilliant, as to efface the recollection of
+all that went before it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seldom, indeed, had Athens witnessed
+such a scene. The grounds that formed
+the original site of the Garden had, from
+time to time, received considerable additions;
+and the whole extent was laid out
+with that perfect taste, which knows how
+to wed Nature to Art, without sacrificing
+her simplicity to the alliance. Walks,
+leading through wildernesses of shade
+and fragrance—glades, opening, as if to
+afford a play-ground for the sunshine—temples,
+rising on the very spots where
+imagination herself would have called them
+up, and fountains and lakes, in alternate
+motion and repose, either wantonly courting
+the verdure, or calmly sleeping in its
+embrace,—such was the variety of feature
+that diversified these fair gardens;
+and, animated as they were on this occasion,
+by all the living wit and loveliness of
+Athens, it afforded a scene such as my
+own youthful fancy, rich as it was then in
+<pb n="6"/><anchor id="Pg006"/>images of luxury and beauty, could hardly
+have anticipated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ceremonies of the day began with
+the very dawn, when, according to the form
+of simpler and better times, those among
+the disciples who had apartments within
+the Garden, bore the image of our Founder
+in procession from chamber to chamber,
+chanting verses in praise of—what had
+long ceased to be objects of our imitation—his
+frugality and temperance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Round a beautiful lake, in the centre of
+the garden, stood four white Doric temples,
+in one of which was collected a library
+containing all the flowers of Grecian
+literature; while, in the remaining three,
+Conversation, the Song, and the Dance,
+held, uninterrupted by each other, their
+respective rites. In the Library stood
+busts of all the most illustrious Epicureans,
+both of Rome and Greece—Horace,
+Atticus, Pliny the elder, the poet
+Lucretius, Lucian, and the biographer of
+the Philosophers, lately lost to us,
+Dio<pb n="7"/><anchor id="Pg007"/>genes Laertius. There were also the portraits,
+in marble, of all the eminent female
+votaries of the school—Leontium and her
+fair daughter Danae, Themista, Philænis,
+and others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was here that, in my capacity of
+Heresiarch, on the morning of the Festival,
+I received the felicitations of the day from
+some of the fairest lips of Athens; and, in
+pronouncing the customary oration to the
+memory of our Master (in which it was
+usual to dwell on the doctrines he inculcated)
+endeavoured to attain that art, so
+useful before such an audience, of diffusing
+over the gravest subjects a charm, which
+secures them listeners even among the
+simplest and most volatile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though study, as may easily be supposed,
+engrossed but little of the mornings
+of the Garden, yet the lighter part of
+learning,—that portion of its attic honey,
+for which the bee is not obliged to go very
+deep into the flower—was zealously cultivated.
+Even here, however, the student
+<pb n="8"/><anchor id="Pg008"/>had to encounter distractions, which are,
+of all others, least favourable to composure
+of thought; and, with more than one of my
+fair disciples, there used to occur such
+scenes as the following, which a poet of the
+Garden, taking his picture from the life,
+described:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“As o’er the lake, in evening’s glow,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">That temple threw its lengthening shade,</l>
+<l>Upon the marble steps below,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">There sate a fair Corinthian maid,</l>
+<l>Gracefully o’er some volume bending;</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">While, by her side, the youthful Sage</l>
+<l>Held back her ringlets, lest, descending,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">They should o’er-shadow all the page.”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+But it was for the evening of that
+day, that the richest of our luxuries were
+reserved. Every part of the Garden was
+illuminated, with the most skilful variety of
+lustre; while over the Lake of the Temples
+were scattered wreaths of flowers, through
+which boats, filled with beautiful children,
+floated, as through a liquid parterre.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Between two of these boats a perpetual
+combat was maintained;—their respective
+<pb n="9"/><anchor id="Pg009"/>commanders, two blooming youths, being
+habited to represent Eros and Anteros; the
+former, the Celestial Love of the Platonists,
+and the latter, that more earthly spirit, which
+usurps the name of Love among the Epicureans.
+Throughout the evening their
+conflict was carried on with various success;
+the timid distance at which Eros kept from
+his more lively antagonist being his only
+safeguard against those darts of fire, with
+showers of which the other continually
+assailed him, but which, luckily falling
+short of their mark upon the lake, only
+scorched the flowers upon which they
+fell, and were extinguished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In another part of the gardens, on a
+wide verdant glade, lighted only by the
+moon, an imitation of the torch-race of
+the Panathenæa was performed, by young
+boys chosen for their fleetness, and arrayed
+with wings, like Cupids; while, not far off, a
+group of seven nymphs, with each a star on
+her forehead, represented the movements
+of the planetary choir, and embodied the
+<pb n="10"/><anchor id="Pg010"/>dream of Pythagoras into real motion and
+song.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At every turning some new enchantment
+broke upon the ear or eye. Sometimes,
+from the depth of a grove, from which a
+fountain at the same time issued, there
+came a strain of music, which, mingling
+with the murmur of the water, seemed like
+the voice of the spirit that presided over its
+flow;—while sometimes the strain rose
+breathing from among flowers; and, again,
+would appear to come suddenly from under
+ground, as if the foot had just touched
+some spring that set it in motion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It seems strange that I should now dwell
+upon these minute descriptions; but every
+thing connected with that memorable night—even
+its long-repented follies—must for
+ever live sacredly in my memory. The
+festival concluded with a banquet, at which
+I, of course, presided; and, feeling myself
+to be the ascendant spirit of the whole
+scene, gave life to all around me, and saw
+my own happiness reflected in that of
+others.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="11"/><anchor id="Pg011"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. II.</head>
+
+<p>
+The festival was over;—the sounds of
+the song and dance had ceased, and I
+was now left in those luxurious gardens,
+alone. Though so ardent and active a
+votary of pleasure, I had, by nature,
+a disposition full of melancholy;—an
+imagination that presented sad thoughts,
+even in the midst of mirth and happiness,
+and threw the shadow of the future
+over the gayest illusions of the present.
+Melancholy was, indeed, twin-born in my
+soul with Passion; and, not even in the
+fullest fervour of the latter, were they
+separated. From the first moment that I
+was conscious of thought and feeling,
+the same dark thread had run across
+the web; and images of death and annihilation
+mingled themselves with the most
+smiling scenes through which my career
+of enjoyment led me. My very passion
+for pleasure but deepened these gloomy
+<pb n="12"/><anchor id="Pg012"/>fancies. For, shut out, as I was by my
+creed, from a future life, and having no hope
+beyond the narrow horizon of this, every
+minute of delight assumed a mournful
+preciousness in my eyes, and pleasure,
+like the flower of the cemetery, grew but
+more luxuriant from the neighbourhood of
+death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This very night my triumph, my happiness
+had seemed complete. I had been the
+presiding genius of that voluptuous scene.
+Both my ambition and my love of pleasure
+had drunk deep of the cup for which they
+thirsted. Looked up to by the learned,
+and loved by the beautiful and the young,
+I had seen, in every eye that met mine,
+either the acknowledgment of triumphs
+already won, or the promise of others,
+still brighter, that awaited me. Yet, even
+in the midst of all this, the same dark
+thoughts had presented themselves;—the
+perishableness of myself and all around
+me every instant recurred to my mind.
+Those hands I had prest—those eyes, in
+<pb n="13"/><anchor id="Pg013"/>which I had seen sparkling, a spirit of
+light and life that should never die—those
+voices, that had talked of eternal love—all,
+all, I felt, were but a mockery of the
+moment, and would leave nothing eternal
+but the silence of their dust!
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>Oh, were it not for this sad voice,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Stealing amid our mirth to say,</l>
+<l>That all, in which we most rejoice,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Ere night may be the earth-worm’s prey;—</l>
+<l><hi rend="italic">But</hi> for this bitter—only this—</l>
+<l>Full as the world is brimm’d with bliss,</l>
+<l>And capable as feels my soul</l>
+<l>Of draining to its depth the whole,</l>
+<l>I should turn earth to heaven, and be,</l>
+<l>If bliss made gods, a deity!</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Such was the description I gave of my
+own feelings, in one of those wild, passionate
+songs, to which this ferment of my
+spirits, between mirth and melancholy,
+gave birth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seldom had my heart more fully abandoned
+itself to such vague sadness than at
+the present moment, when, as I paced
+<pb n="14"/><anchor id="Pg014"/>thoughtfully among the fading lights
+and flowers of the banquet, the echo of
+my own step was all that sounded, where
+so many gay forms had lately been revelling.
+The moon was still up, the morning
+had not yet glimmered, and the calm
+glories of night still rested on all around.
+Unconscious whither my pathway led, I
+wandered along, till I, at length, found
+myself before that fair statue of Venus,
+with which the chisel of Alcamenes had
+embellished our Garden;—that image of
+deified woman, the only idol to which I
+had ever bent the knee. Leaning against
+the pedestal, I raised my eyes to heaven,
+and fixing them sadly and intently on the
+ever-burning stars, as if I sought to read
+the mournful secret in their light, asked,
+wherefore was it that Man alone must
+perish, while they, less wonderful, less
+glorious than he, lived on in light unchangeable
+and for ever!—<q>Oh, that
+there were some spell, some talisman,</q> I
+exclaimed, <q>to make the spirit within us
+<pb n="15"/><anchor id="Pg015"/>deathless as those stars, and open to its
+desires a career like theirs, burning and
+boundless throughout all time!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I gave myself up to this train of
+thought, that lassitude which earthly pleasure,
+however sweet, leaves behind,—as
+if to show how earthly it is,—came
+drowsily over me, and I sunk at the base
+of the statue to sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even in sleep, however, my fancy was
+still busy; and a dream, so vivid as to
+leave behind it the impression of reality,
+thus passed through my mind. I thought
+myself transported to a wide desert plain,
+where nothing seemed to breathe, or move,
+or live. The very sky above it looked pale
+and extinct, giving the idea, not of darkness,
+but of light that had died; and, had
+that region been the remains of some older
+world, left broken up and sunless, it could
+not have looked more dead and desolate.
+The only thing that bespoke life, in this
+melancholy waste, was a small moving
+spark, that at first glimmered in the
+dis<pb n="16"/><anchor id="Pg016"/>tance, but, at length, slowly approached
+the spot where I stood. As it drew
+nearer, I could perceive that its feeble
+gleam was from a taper in the hand of a
+pale venerable man, who now stood, like a
+messenger from the grave, before me.
+After a few moments of awful silence,
+during which he looked at me with a sadness
+that thrilled my very soul, he said,—<q>Thou,
+who seekest eternal life, go
+unto the shores of the dark Nile—go
+unto the shores of the dark Nile, and thou
+wilt find the eternal life thou seekest!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No sooner had he said these words than
+the death-like hue of his cheek brightened
+into a smile of more than human promise.
+The small torch that he held sent forth a
+radiance, by which suddenly the whole
+surface of the desert was illuminated, even
+to the far horizon’s edge, along whose
+line were now seen gardens, palaces, and
+spires, all bright and golden, like the
+architecture of the clouds at sunset. Sweet
+music, too, was heard every where, floating
+<pb n="17"/><anchor id="Pg017"/>around, and, from all sides, such varieties
+of splendour poured, that, with the excess
+both of harmony and of light, I woke.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That infidels should be superstitious is
+an anomaly neither unusual nor strange.
+A belief in superhuman agency seems
+natural and necessary to the mind; and,
+if not suffered to flow in the obvious channels,
+it will find a vent in some other.
+Hence, many who have doubted the existence
+of a God, have yet implicitly placed
+themselves under the patronage of Fate or
+the stars. Much the same inconsistency
+I was conscious of in my own feelings.
+Though rejecting all belief in a Divine Providence,
+I had yet a faith in dreams, that
+all my philosophy could not conquer. Nor
+was experience wanting to confirm me in
+my delusion; for, by some of those accidental
+coincidences, which make the fortune
+of soothsayers and prophets, dreams,
+more than once, had been to me
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>Oracles, truer far than oak,</l>
+<l>Or dove, or tripod, ever spoke.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="18"/><anchor id="Pg018"/>
+
+<p>
+It was not wonderful, therefore, that the
+vision of that night, touching, as it did,
+a chord so ready to vibrate, should have
+affected me with more than ordinary power,
+and sunk deeper into my memory with
+every effort I made to forget it. In vain
+did I mock at my own weakness;—such
+self-derision is seldom sincere. In vain
+did I pursue my accustomed pleasures.
+Their zest was, as usual, for ever new; but
+still came the saddening consciousness of
+mortality, and, with it, the recollection of
+this visionary promise, to which my fancy,
+in defiance of my reason, still clung.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sometimes indulging in reveries, that
+were little else than a continuation of my
+dream, I even contemplated the possible
+existence of some secret, by which youth
+might be, if not perpetuated, at least prolonged,
+and that dreadful vicinity of death,
+within whose circle love pines and pleasure
+sickens, might be for a while averted.
+<q>Who knows,</q> I would ask, <q>but that in
+Egypt, that land of wonders, where Mystery
+<pb n="19"/><anchor id="Pg019"/>hath yet unfolded but half her treasures,—where
+so many dark secrets of the antediluvian
+world still remain, undeciphered,
+upon the pillars of Seth—who knows but
+some charm, some amulet, may lie hid,
+whose discovery, as this phantom hath
+promised, but waits my coming—some
+compound of the same pure atoms, that
+scintillate in the eternal stars, and whose
+infusion into the frame of man might make
+him, too, fadeless and immortal!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus did I fondly speculate, in those
+rambling moods, when the life of excitement
+which I led, acting upon a warm
+heart and vivid fancy, produced an intoxication
+of spirit, during which I was not
+wholly myself. This bewilderment, too,
+was not a little increased by the constant
+struggle between my own natural feelings,
+and the cold, mortal creed of my sect, in
+endeavouring to escape from whose deadening
+bondage I but broke loose into the
+realms of romance and fantasy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even, however, in my calmest and soberest
+moments, that strange vision
+per<pb n="20"/><anchor id="Pg020"/>petually haunted me. In vain were all
+my efforts to chase it from my mind; and
+the deliberate conclusion to which I came
+at last, was, that without, at least, a visit to
+Egypt, I could not rest, nor, till convinced
+of my folly by disappointment, be reasonable.
+I, therefore, announced without
+delay to my associates of the Garden, the
+intention which I had formed to pay a visit
+to the land of Pyramids. To none of
+them did I dare to confess the vague, visionary
+impulse that actuated me. Knowledge
+was the object that I alleged, while
+Pleasure was that for which they gave me
+credit. The interests of the School, it was
+apprehended, would suffer by my absence;
+and there were some tenderer ties, which
+had still more to fear from separation. But
+for the former inconvenience a temporary
+remedy was provided; while the latter a
+skilful distribution of vows and sighs alleviated.
+Being furnished with recommendatory
+letters to all parts of Egypt, in the
+summer of the year 257, A.D. I set sail for
+Alexandria.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="21"/><anchor id="Pg021"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. III.</head>
+
+<p>
+To one, who extracted such sweets from
+every moment on land, a sea-voyage, however
+smooth and favourable, appeared the
+least agreeable mode of losing time that
+could be devised. Often did my imagination,
+in passing some isle of those seas,
+people it with fair forms and kind hearts,
+to whom most willingly, if I might, would I
+have paused to pay homage. But the wind
+blew direct towards the land of Mystery;
+and, still more, I heard a voice within me,
+whispering for ever <q>On.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As we approached the coast of Egypt,
+our course became less prosperous; and
+we had a specimen of the benevolence of
+the divinities of the Nile, in the shape of a
+storm, or rather whirlwind, which had
+nearly sunk our vessel, and which, the
+Egyptians on board said, was the work of
+their God, Typhon. After a day and night
+<pb n="22"/><anchor id="Pg022"/>of danger, during which we were driven
+out of our course to the eastward, some
+benigner influence prevailed above; and,
+at length, as the morning freshly broke,
+we saw the beautiful city of Alexandria
+rising from the sea, with its Palace of
+Kings, its portico of four hundred columns,
+and the fair Pillar of Pillars, towering up
+to heaven in the midst.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After passing in review this splendid
+vision, we shot rapidly round the Rock of
+Pharos, and, in a few minutes, found ourselves
+in the harbour of Eunostus. The
+sun had risen, but the light on the Great
+Tower of the Rock was still burning; and
+there was a languor in the first waking
+movements of that voluptuous city—whose
+houses and temples lay shining in silence
+round the harbour—that sufficiently attested
+the festivities of the preceding night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were soon landed on the quay; and,
+as I walked, through a line of palaces and
+shrines, up the street which leads from the
+sea to the Gate of Canopus, fresh as I was
+<pb n="23"/><anchor id="Pg023"/>from the contemplation of my own lovely
+Athens, I felt a glow of admiration at the
+scene around me, which its novelty, even
+more than its magnificence, inspired. Nor
+were the luxuries and delights, which such
+a city promised, among the least of the
+considerations on which my fancy, at that
+moment, dwelt. On the contrary, every
+thing around seemed prophetic of future
+pleasure. The very forms of the architecture,
+to my Epicurean imagination, appeared
+to call up images of living grace;
+and even the dim seclusion of the temples
+and groves spoke only of tender mysteries
+to my mind. As the whole bright scene
+grew animated around me, I felt that
+though Egypt might not enable me to
+lengthen life, she could teach the next best
+art,—that of multiplying its enjoyments.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The population of Alexandria, at this
+period, consisted of the most motley miscellany
+of nations, religions, and sects, that
+had ever been brought together in one
+city. Beside the school of the Grecian
+<pb n="24"/><anchor id="Pg024"/>Platonist was seen the oratory of the
+cabalistic Jew; while the church of the
+Christian stood, undisturbed, over the
+crypts of the Egyptian Hierophant. Here,
+the adorer of Fire, from the east, laughed
+at the superstition of the worshipper of
+cats, from the west. Here Christianity,
+too, unluckily, had learned to emulate
+the vagaries of Paganism; and while,
+on one side, her Ophite professor was
+seen kneeling down gravely before his serpent,
+on the other, a Nicosian was, as
+gravely, contending that there was no
+chance of salvation out of the pale of the
+Greek alphabet. Still worse, the uncharitableness
+of Christian schism was already
+distinguishing itself with equal vigour; and
+I heard of nothing, on my arrival, but the
+rancour and hate, with which the Greek
+and Latin churchmen persecuted each
+other, because, forsooth, the one fasted on
+the seventh day of the week, and the
+others fasted upon the fourth and sixth!
+</p>
+
+<pb n="25"/><anchor id="Pg025"/>
+
+<p>
+To none of those religions or sects, however,
+except for purposes of ridicule, did
+I pay much attention. I was now in the
+most luxurious city of the universe, and
+gave way, without reserve, to the seductions
+that surrounded me. My reputation,
+as a philosopher and a man of pleasure,
+had preceded me; and Alexandria, the
+second Athens of the world, welcomed me
+as her own. My celebrity, indeed, was as
+a talisman, that opened hearts and doors
+at my approach. The usual noviciate of
+acquaintance was dispensed with in my
+favour, and not only intimacies, but loves
+and friendships, ripened in my path, as
+rapidly as vegetation springs up where the
+Nile has flowed. The dark beauty of the
+Egyptian women had a novelty in my eyes
+that enhanced its other charms; and that
+hue of the sun on their rounded cheeks
+was but an earnest of the ardour he had
+kindled in their hearts—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>Th’ imbrowning of the fruit, that tells</l>
+<l>How rich within the soul of sweetness dwells.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="26"/><anchor id="Pg026"/>
+
+<p>
+Some weeks rolled on in such perpetual
+and ever-changing pleasures, that even the
+melancholy voice in my heart, though it
+still spoke, was but seldom listened to, and
+soon died away in the sound of the siren
+songs that surrounded me. At length,
+however, as the novelty of these scenes
+wore off, the same gloomy bodings began
+to mingle with all my joys; and an incident
+that occurred, during one of my gayest
+revels, conduced still more to deepen their
+gloom.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The celebration of the annual festival
+of Serapis took place during my stay, and
+I was, more than once, induced to mingle
+with the gay multitudes, that crowded to
+his shrine at Canopus on the occasion.
+Day and night, while this festival lasted,
+the canal, which led from Alexandria to
+Canopus, was covered with boats full of
+pilgrims of both sexes, all hastening to avail
+themselves of this pious licence, which lent
+the zest of a religious sanction to pleasure,
+and gave a holiday to the passions of earth,
+in honour of heaven.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="27"/><anchor id="Pg027"/>
+
+<p>
+I was returning, one lovely night, to
+Alexandria. The north wind, that welcome
+visitor, freshened the air, while the
+banks, on either side, sent forth, from
+groves of orange and henna, the most
+delicious odours. As I had left all the
+crowd behind me at Canopus, there was
+not a boat to be seen on the canal but
+my own; and I was just yielding to the
+thoughts which solitude at such an hour
+inspires, when my reveries were broken
+by the sound of some female voices, coming,
+mingled with laughter and screams, from
+the garden of a pavilion, that stood, brilliantly
+illuminated, upon the bank of the
+canal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On rowing nearer, I perceived that
+both the mirth and the alarm had been
+caused by the efforts of some playful girls to
+reach a hedge of jasmin which grew near the
+water, and in bending towards which they
+had nearly fallen into the stream. Hastening
+to proffer my assistance, I soon recognised
+the voice of one of my fair Alexandrian
+<pb n="28"/><anchor id="Pg028"/>friends, and, springing on the bank, was
+surrounded by the whole group, who insisted
+on my joining their party in the
+pavilion, and flinging the tendrils of jasmin,
+which they had just plucked, around
+me, led me, no unwilling captive, to the
+banquet-room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found here an assemblage of the very
+flower of Alexandrian society. The unexpectedness
+of the meeting gave it an additional
+zest on both sides; and seldom had
+I felt more enlivened myself, or contributed
+more successfully to circulate life
+among others.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the company were some Greek
+women, who, according to the fashion of
+their country, wore veils; but, as usual,
+rather to set off than conceal their beauty,
+some gleams of which were continually
+escaping from under the cloud. There
+was, however, one female, who particularly
+attracted my attention, on whose head was
+a chaplet of dark-coloured flowers, and
+who sat veiled and silent during the whole
+<pb n="29"/><anchor id="Pg029"/>of the banquet. She took no share, I observed,
+in what was passing around: the
+viands and the wine went by her untouched,
+nor did a word that was spoken seem
+addressed to her ear. This abstraction
+from a scene so sparkling with gaiety,
+though apparently unnoticed by any one
+but myself, struck me as mysterious and
+strange. I inquired of my fair neighbour
+the cause of it, but she looked grave and
+was silent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the mean time, the lyre and the cup
+went round; and a young maid from Athens,
+as if inspired by the presence of her countryman,
+took her lute, and sung to it some
+of the songs of Greece, with a feeling that
+bore me back to the banks of the Ilissus,
+and, even in the bosom of present pleasure,
+drew a sigh from my heart for that
+which had passed away. It was daybreak
+ere our delighted party rose, and unwillingly
+re-embarked to return to the city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarcely were we afloat, when it was
+discovered that the lute of the young
+<pb n="30"/><anchor id="Pg030"/>Athenian had been left behind; and, with
+my heart still full of its sweet sounds,
+I most readily sprung on shore to seek it.
+I hastened to the banquet-room, which was
+now dim and solitary, except that—there, to
+my astonishment, still sat that silent figure,
+which had awakened my curiosity so
+strongly during the night. A vague feeling
+of awe came over me, as I now slowly
+approached it. There was no motion,
+no sound of breathing in that form;—not
+a leaf of the dark chaplet on its brow
+stirred. By the light of a dying lamp
+which stood before the figure, I raised,
+with a hesitating hand, the veil, and saw—what
+my fancy had already anticipated—that
+the shape underneath was lifeless, was
+a skeleton! Startled and shocked, I hurried
+back with the lute to the boat, and
+was almost as silent as that shape for the
+remainder of the voyage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This custom among the Egyptians of
+placing a mummy, or skeleton, at the
+banquet-table, had been for some time
+disused, except at particular ceremonies;
+<pb n="31"/><anchor id="Pg031"/>and, even on such occasions, it had been
+the practice of the luxurious Alexandrians
+to disguise this memorial of mortality in the
+manner just described. But to me, who
+was wholly unprepared for such a spectacle,
+it gave a shock from which my
+imagination did not speedily recover. This
+silent and ghastly witness of mirth seemed
+to embody, as it were, the shadow in my
+own heart. The features of the grave
+were now stamped on the idea that haunted
+me, and this picture of what I <hi rend="italic">was to be</hi>
+mingled itself with the sunniest aspect of
+what I <hi rend="italic">was</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The memory of the dream now recurred
+to me more livelily than ever. The bright
+assuring smile of that venerable Spirit,
+and his words, <q>Go to the shores of the
+dark Nile, and thou wilt find the eternal
+life thou seekest,</q> were for ever before my
+mind. But as yet, alas, I had done nothing
+towards realising this splendid promise.
+Alexandria was not Egypt;—the very soil
+on which it stood was not in existence,
+<pb n="32"/><anchor id="Pg032"/>when Thebes and Memphis <anchor id="corr032"/><corr sic="alrea d">already</corr> counted
+ages of glory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>It is beneath the Pyramids of Memphis,</q>
+I exclaimed, <q>or in the mystic Halls
+of the Labyrinth, that I must seek those
+holy arcana of science, of which the antediluvian
+world has made Egypt its heir, and
+among which—blest thought!—the key to
+eternal life may lie.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having formed my determination, I took
+leave of my many Alexandrian friends,
+and departed for Memphis.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="33"/><anchor id="Pg033"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. IV.</head>
+
+<p>
+Egypt was the country, of all others,
+from that mixture of the melancholy and
+the voluptuous, which marked the character
+of her people, her religion, and her
+scenery, to affect deeply a temperament
+and fancy like mine, and keep tremblingly
+alive the sensibilities of both. Wherever
+I turned, I saw the desert and the garden,
+mingling their bloom and desolation together.
+I saw the love-bower and the
+tomb standing side by side, and pleasure
+and death keeping hourly watch upon each
+other. In the very luxury of the climate
+there was the same saddening influence.
+The monotonous splendour of the days,
+the solemn radiance of the nights—all
+tended to cherish that ardent melancholy,
+the offspring of passion and of thought,
+which had so long been the inmate of my
+soul.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="34"/><anchor id="Pg034"/>
+
+<p>
+When I sailed from Alexandria, the inundation
+of the Nile was at its full. The
+whole valley of Egypt lay covered by its
+flood; and, as I saw around me, in the
+light of the setting sun, shrines, palaces,
+and monuments, encircled by the waters, I
+could almost fancy that I beheld the sinking
+island of Atalantis, on the last evening its
+temples were visible above the wave.
+Such varieties, too, of animation as presented
+themselves on every side!—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>While, far as sight can reach, beneath as clear</l>
+<l>And blue a heaven as ever bless’d this sphere,</l>
+<l>Gardens, and pillar’d streets, and porphyry domes,</l>
+<l>And high-built temples, fit to be the homes</l>
+<l>Of mighty gods, and pyramids, whose hour</l>
+<l>Outlasts all time, above the waters tower!</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>Then, too, the scenes of pomp and joy, that make</l>
+<l>One theatre of this vast, peopled lake,</l>
+<l>Where all that Love, Religion, Commerce gives</l>
+<l>Of life and motion, ever moves and lives.</l>
+<l>Here, up the steps of temples, from the wave</l>
+<l>Ascending, in procession slow and grave,</l>
+<l>Priests, in white garments, go, with sacred wands</l>
+<l>And silver cymbals gleaming in their hands:</l>
+<pb n="35"/><anchor id="Pg035"/><l>While, there, rich barks—fresh from those sunny tracts</l>
+<l>Far off, beyond the sounding cataracts—</l>
+<l>Glide with their precious lading to the sea,</l>
+<l>Plumes of bright birds, rhinoceros’ ivory,</l>
+<l>Gems from the isle of Meröe, and those grains</l>
+<l>Of gold, wash’d down by Abyssinian rains.</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>Here, where the waters wind into a bay</l>
+<l>Shadowy and cool, some pilgrims, on their way</l>
+<l>To Saïs or Bubastus, among beds</l>
+<l>Of lotus-flowers, that close above their heads,</l>
+<l>Push their light barks, and hid, as in a bower,</l>
+<l>Sing, talk, or sleep away the sultry hour;</l>
+<l>While haply, not far off, beneath a bank</l>
+<l>Of blossoming acacias, many a prank</l>
+<l>Is play’d in the cool current by a train</l>
+<l>Of laughing nymphs, lovely as she, whose chain</l>
+<l>Around two conquerors of the world was cast,</l>
+<l>But, for a third too feeble, broke at last!</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Enchanted with the whole scene, I lingered
+on my voyage, visiting all those luxurious
+and venerable places, whose names
+have been consecrated by the wonder of
+ages. At Saïs I was present during her
+Festival of Lamps, and read, by the blaze
+of innumerable lights, those sublime words
+<pb n="36"/><anchor id="Pg036"/>on the temple of Neitha: <q>I am all that
+has been, that is, and that will be, and no
+man hath ever lifted my veil.</q> I wandered
+among the prostrate obelisks of Heliopolis,
+and saw, not without a sigh, the sun smiling
+over her ruins, as if in mockery of the mass
+of perishable grandeur, that had once called
+itself, in its pride, <q>The City of the Sun.</q>
+But to the Isle of the Golden Venus was
+my fondest pilgrimage;—and as I explored
+its shades, where bowers are the
+only temples, I felt how far more fit to form
+the shrine of a Deity are the ever-living
+stems of the garden and the grove, than
+the most precious columns that the inanimate
+quarry can supply.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every where new pleasures, new interests
+awaited me; and though Melancholy,
+as usual, stood always near, her shadow
+fell but half-way over my vagrant path,
+and left the rest more welcomely brilliant
+from the contrast. To relate my various
+adventures, during this short voyage, would
+only detain me from events, far, far more
+<pb n="37"/><anchor id="Pg037"/>worthy of record. Amidst such endless variety
+of attractions, the great object of my
+journey was forgotten;—the mysteries of
+this land of the sun were, to me, as much
+mysteries as ever, and I had as yet been
+initiated in nothing but its pleasures.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not till that evening, when I first
+stood before the Pyramids of Memphis,
+and saw them towering aloft, like the
+watch-towers of Time, from whose summit,
+when he expires, he will look his last,—it
+was not till this moment that the
+great secret, of which I had dreamed,
+again rose, in all its inscrutable darkness,
+upon my thoughts. There was a solemnity
+in the sunshine that rested upon those
+monuments—a stillness, as of reverence,
+in the air around them, that stole, like the
+music of past times, into my heart. I
+thought what myriads of the wise, the
+beautiful, and the brave, had sunk into
+dust since earth first beheld those wonders;
+and, in the sadness of my soul, I exclaimed,—<q>Must
+man alone, then, perish? must
+<pb n="38"/><anchor id="Pg038"/>minds and hearts be annihilated, while pyramids
+endure? Death, Death, even on these
+everlasting tablets,—the only approach to
+immortality that kings themselves could
+purchase,—thou hast written our doom,
+saying, awfully and intelligibly, <q>There
+is, for man, no eternal mansion, but the
+tomb!</q></q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My heart sunk at the thought; and,
+for the moment, I yielded to that desolate
+feeling, which overspreads the soul that
+hath no light from the future. But again
+the buoyancy of my nature prevailed, and
+again, the willing dupe of vain dreams, I deluded
+myself into the belief of all that I most
+wished, with that happy facility which
+makes imagination stand in place of
+happiness. <q>Yes,</q> I cried, <q>immortality
+<hi rend="italic">must</hi> be within man’s reach; and, as
+wisdom alone is worthy of such a blessing,
+to the wise alone must the secret have
+been revealed. Deep, it is said, under
+yonder pyramid, has for ages lain concealed
+the Table of Emerald, on which
+<pb n="39"/><anchor id="Pg039"/>the Thrice-Great Hermes engraved, before
+the flood, the secret of Alchemy, that
+gives gold at will. Why may not the
+mightier, the more god-like secret, that
+gives life at will, be recorded there also?
+It was by the power of gold, of endless
+gold, that the kings, who repose in those
+massy structures, scooped earth to the
+centre, and raised quarries into the air, to
+provide themselves with tombs that might
+outstand the world. Who can tell but that
+the gift of immortality was also theirs?
+who knows but that they themselves, triumphant
+over decay, still live—those mansions,
+which we call tombs, being rich and
+everlasting palaces, within whose depths,
+concealed from this withering world, they
+still wander, with the few who are sharers
+of their gift, through a sunless, but illuminated,
+elysium of their own? Else,
+wherefore those structures? wherefore
+that subterraneous realm, by which the
+whole valley of Egypt is undermined?
+Why, else, those labyrinths, which none
+<pb n="40"/><anchor id="Pg040"/>of earth hath ever beheld—which none of
+heaven, except that God, with the finger
+on his hushed lip, hath trodden!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I indulged in these dreams, the
+sun, half sunk beneath the horizon, was
+taking, calmly and gloriously, his leave of
+the Pyramids,—as he had done, evening
+after evening, for ages, till they had become
+familiar to him as the earth itself. On the
+side turned to his ray they now presented
+a front of dazzling whiteness, while, on
+the other, their great shadows, lengthening
+to the eastward, looked like the first
+steps of Night, hastening to envelope the
+hills of Araby in her shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No sooner had the last gleam of the sun
+disappeared, than, on every house-top in
+Memphis, gay, gilded banners were seen
+waving aloft, to proclaim his setting,—while
+a full burst of harmony pealed from
+all the temples along the shores.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Startled from my musing by these
+sounds, I at once recollected, that, on that
+very evening, the great festival of the Moon
+<pb n="41"/><anchor id="Pg041"/>was to be celebrated. On a little island,
+half-way over between the gardens of
+Memphis and the eastern shore, stood the
+temple of that goddess,
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l rend="margin-left: 15">Whose beams</l>
+<l>Bring the sweet time of night-flowers and dreams.</l>
+<l><hi rend="italic">Not</hi> the cold Dian of the North, who chains</l>
+<l>In vestal ice the current of young veins;</l>
+<l>But she, who haunts the gay, Bubastian grove,</l>
+<l>And owns she sees, from her bright heav’n above,</l>
+<l>Nothing on earth, to match that heav’n, but love!</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Thus did I exclaim, in the words of one
+of their own Egyptian poets, as, anticipating
+the various delights of the festival, I cast
+away from my mind all gloomy thoughts,
+and, hastening to my little bark, in which
+I now lived, like a Nile-bird, on the waters,
+steered my course to the island-temple of
+the Moon.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="42"/><anchor id="Pg042"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. V.</head>
+
+<p>
+The rising of the Moon, slow and majestic,
+as if conscious of the honours that awaited
+her upon earth, was welcomed with a loud
+acclaim from every eminence, where multitudes
+stood watching for her first light.
+And seldom had she risen upon a scene
+more beautiful. Memphis,—still grand,
+though no longer the unrivalled Memphis,
+that had borne away from Thebes the
+crown of supremacy, and worn it undisputed
+through so many centuries,—now,
+softened by the moonlight that harmonised
+with her decline, shone forth among her
+lakes, her pyramids, and her shrines, like
+a dream of glory that was soon to pass
+away. Ruin, even now, was but too visible
+around her. The sands of the Libyan desert
+gained upon her like a sea; and, among
+solitary columns and sphinxes, already half
+sunk from sight, Time seemed to stand
+<pb n="43"/><anchor id="Pg043"/>waiting, till all, that now flourished around,
+should fall beneath his desolating hand,
+like the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the waters all was life and gaiety.
+As far as eye could reach, the lights of innumerable
+boats were seen, studding, like
+rubies, the surface of the stream. Vessels
+of all kinds,—from the light coracle, built
+for shooting down the cataracts, to the
+large yacht that glides to the sound of
+flutes,—all were afloat for this sacred
+festival, filled with crowds of the young
+and the gay, not only from Memphis
+and Babylon, but from cities still farther
+removed from the scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I approached the island, I could see,
+glittering through the trees on the bank,
+the lamps of the pilgrims hastening to
+the ceremony. Landing in the direction
+which those lights pointed out, I soon
+joined the crowd; and, passing through a
+long alley of sphinxes, whose spangling
+marble shone out from the dark sycamores
+around them, in a short time reached
+<pb n="44"/><anchor id="Pg044"/>the grand vestibule of the temple, where
+I found the ceremonies of the evening
+already commenced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this vast hall, which was surrounded
+by a double range of columns, and lay
+open over-head to the stars of heaven, I
+saw a group of young maidens, moving in
+a sort of measured step, between walk and
+dance, round a small shrine, upon which
+stood one of those sacred birds, that, on
+account of the variegated colour of their
+wings, are dedicated to the moon. The
+vestibule was dimly lighted,—there being
+but one lamp of naptha on each of the
+great pillars that encircled it. But, having
+taken my station beside one of those pillars,
+I had a distinct view of the young dancers,
+as in succession they passed me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Their long, graceful drapery was as white
+as snow; and each wore loosely, beneath
+the rounded bosom, a dark-blue zone, or
+bandelet, studded, like the skies at midnight,
+with little silver stars. Through
+their dark locks was wreathed the white
+<pb n="45"/><anchor id="Pg045"/>lily of the Nile,—that flower being accounted
+as welcome to the moon, as the
+golden blossoms of the bean-flower are to
+the sun. As they passed under the lamp,
+a gleam of light flashed from their bosoms,
+which, I could perceive, was the reflection
+of a small mirror, that, in the manner of
+the women of the East, each wore beneath
+her left shoulder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no music to regulate their
+steps; but, as they gracefully went round
+the bird on the shrine, some, by the beat
+of the castanet, some, by the shrill ring
+of the sistrum,—which they held uplifted
+in the attitude of their own divine
+Isis,—harmoniously timed the cadence of
+their feet; while others, at every step,
+shook a small chain of silver, whose sound,
+mingling with those of the castanets and
+sistrums, produced a wild, but not an unpleasing
+harmony.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They seemed all lovely; but there was
+one—whose face the light had not yet
+reached, so downcast she held it,—who
+<pb n="46"/><anchor id="Pg046"/>attracted, and, at length, riveted all my
+attention. I knew not why, but there was
+a something in those half-seen features,—a
+charm in the very shadow, that hung
+over their imagined beauty,—which took
+me more than all the out-shining loveliness
+of her companions. So enchained
+was my fancy by this coy mystery, that
+her alone, of all the group, could I either
+see or think of—her alone I watched, as,
+with the same downcast brow, she glided
+round the altar, gently and aërially, as if
+her presence, like that of a spirit, was
+something to be felt, not seen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly, while I gazed, the loud crash
+of a thousand cymbals was heard;—the
+massy gates of the Temple flew open, as
+if by magic, and a flood of radiance from
+the illuminated aisle filled the whole vestibule;
+while, at the same instant, as if the
+light and the sounds were born together,
+a peal of rich harmony came mingling
+with the radiance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was then,—by that light, which shone
+<pb n="47"/><anchor id="Pg047"/>full upon the young maiden’s features, as,
+starting at the blaze, she raised her eyes to
+the portal, and, as suddenly, let fall their
+lids again,—it was then I beheld, what
+even my own ardent imagination, in its
+most vivid dreams of beauty, had never pictured.
+Not Psyche herself, when pausing
+on the threshold of heaven, while its
+first glories fell on her dazzled lids, could
+have looked more beautiful, or blushed
+with a more innocent shame. Often as I
+had felt the power of looks, none had ever
+entered into my soul so far. It was a new
+feeling—a new sense—coming as suddenly
+as that radiance into the vestibule,
+and, at once, filling my whole being;—and
+had that vision but lingered another moment
+before my eyes, I should have wholly
+forgotten who I was and where, and thrown
+myself, in prostrate adoration, at her feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But scarcely had that gush of harmony
+been heard, when the sacred bird, which
+had, till now, stood motionless as an image,
+expanded his wings, and flew into the
+Tem<pb n="48"/><anchor id="Pg048"/>ple; while his graceful young worshippers,
+with a fleetness like his own, followed,—and
+she, who had left a dream in my
+heart never to be forgotten, vanished with
+the rest. As she went rapidly past the
+pillar against which I leaned, the ivy
+that encircled it caught in her drapery,
+and disengaged some ornament which fell
+to the ground. It was the small mirror
+which I had seen shining on her bosom.
+Hastily and tremulously I picked it up,
+and hurried to restore it;—but she was
+already lost to my eyes in the crowd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In vain I tried to follow;—the aisles
+were already filled, and numbers of eager
+pilgrims pressed towards the portal. But
+the servants of the Temple prevented all
+further entrance, and still, as I presented
+myself, their white wands barred the
+way. Perplexed and irritated amid that
+crowd of faces, regarding all as enemies
+that impeded my progress, I stood
+on tiptoe, gazing into the busy aisles, and
+with a heart beating as I caught, from
+<pb n="49"/><anchor id="Pg049"/>time to time, a glimpse of some spangled
+zone, or lotus wreath, which led me to
+fancy that I had discovered the object of
+my search. But it was all in vain;—in
+every direction, files of sacred nymphs
+were moving, but nowhere could I see her,
+whom alone I sought.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this state of breathless agitation did
+I stand for some time,—bewildered with
+the confusion of faces and lights, as well
+as with the clouds of incense that rolled
+around me,—till, fevered and impatient, I
+could endure it no longer. Forcing my
+way out of the vestibule into the cool air,
+I hurried back through the alley of
+sphinxes to the shore, and flung myself
+into my boat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is, to the north of Memphis, a
+solitary lake (which, at this season of the
+year, mingles with the rest of the waters,)
+upon whose shores stands the Necropolis,
+or City of the Dead—a place of melancholy
+grandeur, covered over with shrines and pyramids,
+where many a kingly head, proud
+<pb n="50"/><anchor id="Pg050"/>even in death, has for ages awaited the
+resurrection of its glories. Through a range
+of sepulchral grots underneath, the humbler
+denizens of the tomb are deposited,—looking
+out on each successive generation
+that visits them, with the same face and
+features they wore centuries ago. Every
+plant and tree, that is consecrated to death,
+from the asphodel-flower to the mystic
+plantain, lends its sweetness or shadow to
+this place of tombs; and the only noise
+that disturbs its eternal calm, is the low
+humming sound of the priests at prayer,
+when a new inhabitant is added to the
+silent city.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was towards this place of death that,
+in a mood of mind, as usual, half bright,
+half gloomy, I now, almost unconsciously,
+directed my bark. The form of the young
+Priestess was continually before me. That
+one bright look of hers, the very memory
+of which was worth all the actual smiles of
+others, never left my mind. Absorbed in
+such thoughts, I rowed on, scarce knowing
+<pb n="51"/><anchor id="Pg051"/>whither I went, till, startled by finding
+myself within the shadow of the City of
+the Dead, I looked up, and saw, rising in
+succession before me, pyramid beyond pyramid,
+each towering more loftily than
+the other,—while all were out-topped in
+grandeur by one, upon whose summit the
+moon seemed to rest, as on a pedestal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Drawing near to the shore, which was sufficiently
+elevated to raise this city of monuments
+above the level of the inundation, I
+lifted my oar, and let the boat rock idly on
+the water, while my thoughts, left equally
+without direction, fluctuated as idly.
+How various and vague were the dreams
+that then passed through my mind—that
+bright vision of the temple mingling itself
+with all! Sometimes she stood before
+me, like an aërial spirit, as pure as if that
+element of music and light, into which
+I had seen her vanish, was her only dwelling.
+Sometimes, animated with passion,
+and kindling into a creature of earth, she
+seemed to lean towards me with looks of
+<pb n="52"/><anchor id="Pg052"/>tenderness, which it were worth worlds, but
+for one instant, to inspire; and again—as
+the dark fancies, that ever haunted me,
+recurred—I saw her cold, parched, and
+blackening, amid the gloom of those eternal
+sepulchres before me!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Turning away, with a shudder, from
+the cemetery at this thought, I heard the
+sound of an oar plying swiftly through
+the water, and, in a few moments, saw,
+shooting past me towards the shore, a
+small boat in which sat two female figures,
+muffled up and veiled. Having landed
+them not far from the spot where I lay,—concealed
+by the shadow of a monument
+on the bank,—the boat again departed,
+with the same fleetness, over the
+flood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Never had the prospect of an adventure
+come more welcome than at this moment,
+when my fancy was weaving such chains
+for my heart, as threatened a bondage,
+of all others, the most difficult to break.
+To become enamoured thus of a creature of
+<pb n="53"/><anchor id="Pg053"/>my own imagination, was the worst, because
+the most lasting, of follies. Reality
+alone gives a chance of dissolving such
+spells, and the idol I was now creating to
+myself must for ever remain ideal. Any
+pursuit, therefore, that seemed likely to
+divert me from such thoughts—to bring
+back my imagination to earth and reality,
+from the vague region in which it was
+wandering, was a relief too seasonable not
+to be welcomed with eagerness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had watched the course which the two
+figures took, and, having hastily fastened
+my boat to the bank, stepped gently on
+shore, and, at a little distance, followed
+them. The windings through which they
+led were intricate; but, by the bright light
+of the moon, I was enabled to keep their
+forms in view, as, with rapid step, they
+glided among the monuments. At length,
+in the shade of a small pyramid, whose
+peak barely surmounted the plane-trees
+that grew nigh, they vanished from my
+sight. I hastened to the spot, but there
+<pb n="54"/><anchor id="Pg054"/>was not a sign of life around; and had my
+creed extended to another world, I might
+have fancied that these forms were spirits,
+sent from thence to mock me,—so instantaneously
+they disappeared. I searched
+through the neighbouring grove, but all
+there was still as death. At length, in examining
+one of the sides of the pyramid,
+which, for a few feet from the ground, was
+furnished with steps, I found, midway between
+peak and base, a part of the surface,
+which, though presenting an appearance of
+smoothness to the eye, gave to the touch, I
+thought, indications of a concealed opening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a variety of efforts and experiments,
+I, at last, more by accident than
+skill, pressed the spring that commanded
+this mysterious aperture. In an instant
+the portal slid aside, and disclosed a narrow
+stair-way within, the two or three first
+steps of which were discernible by the
+moonlight, while the rest were lost in utter
+darkness. Though it was difficult to conceive
+that the persons whom I had followed
+<pb n="55"/><anchor id="Pg055"/>would have ventured to pass through this
+gloomy opening, yet to account for their
+disappearance otherwise was still more difficult.
+At all events, my curiosity was now
+too eager in the chase to relinquish it;—the
+spirit of adventure, once raised, could
+not be so easily laid. Accordingly, having
+sent up a gay prayer to that bliss-loving
+Queen whose eye alone was upon me, I
+passed through the portal and descended
+into the pyramid.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="56"/><anchor id="Pg056"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. VI.</head>
+
+<p>
+At the bottom of the stair-way I found
+myself in a low, narrow passage, through
+which, without stooping almost to earth,
+it was impossible to proceed. Though
+leading through a multiplicity of dark
+windings, this way seemed but little to
+advance my progress,—its course, I perceived,
+being chiefly circular, and gathering,
+at every turn, but a deeper intensity
+of darkness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Can this,</q> I thought, <q>be the sojourn
+of any thing human?</q>—and had scarcely
+asked myself the question, when the path
+opened into a long gallery, at the farthest
+end of which a gleam of light was visible.
+This welcome glimmer appeared to come
+from some cell or alcove, in which the
+right-hand wall of the gallery terminated,
+<pb n="57"/><anchor id="Pg057"/>and, breathless with expectation, I stole
+gently towards it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the end of the gallery, a scene
+presented itself to my eyes, for which my
+fondest expectations of adventure could not
+have prepared me. The place from which
+the light proceeded was a small chapel, of
+whose interior, from the dark recess in
+which I stood, I had, unseen myself, a full
+and distinct view. Over the walls of this
+oratory were painted some of those various
+symbols, by which the mystic wisdom of
+the Egyptians loves to shadow out the
+History of the Soul—the winged globe
+with a serpent,—the rays descending from
+above, like a glory, and the Theban beetle,
+as he comes forth, after the waters have
+passed away, and the first sunbeam falls
+on his regenerated wings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the middle of the chapel stood a low
+altar of granite, on which lay a lifeless
+female form, enshrined within a case of
+crystal,—as they preserve their dead in
+Ethiopia,—and looking as freshly beautiful
+<pb n="58"/><anchor id="Pg058"/>as if the soul had but a few hours departed.
+Among the emblems of death, on the front
+of the altar, were a slender lotus-branch,
+broken in two, and a bird, just winging
+its flight from the spray.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To these memorials of the dead, however,
+I but little attended; for there was
+a living object there upon which my eyes
+were most intently fixed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lamp, by which the whole of the
+chapel was illuminated, was placed at the
+head of the pale image in the shrine; and,
+between its light and me, stood a female
+form, bending over the monument, as if to
+gaze upon the silent features within. The
+position in which this figure was placed, intercepting
+a strong light, afforded me, at
+first, but an imperfect and shadowy view of
+it. Yet even at this mere outline my heart
+beat high,—and memory, as it proved, had
+as much share in this feeling as imagination.
+For, on the head changing its position,
+so as to let a gleam fall on the features,
+I saw with a transport, which had almost
+<pb n="59"/><anchor id="Pg059"/>led me to betray my lurking-place, that it
+was she—the young worshipper of Isis—the
+same, the very same, whom I had seen,
+brightening the holy place where she stood,
+and looking like an inhabitant of some
+purer world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The movement, by which she had now
+given me an opportunity of recognising
+her, was made in raising from the shrine a
+small cross<note place="foot">A cross was, among the Egyptians, the emblem
+of a future life.</note> of silver, which lay directly
+over the bosom of the lifeless figure.
+Bringing it close to her lips, she kissed it
+with a religious fervour; then, turning her
+eyes mournfully upwards, held them fixed
+with an inspired earnestness, as if, at that
+moment, in direct communion with heaven,
+they saw neither roof, nor any other earthly
+barrier between them and the skies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What a power hath innocence, whose
+very helplessness is its safeguard—in
+whose presence even Passion himself
+<pb n="60"/><anchor id="Pg060"/>stands abashed, and turns worshipper at
+the altar which he came to despoil. She,
+who, but a short hour before, had presented
+herself to my imagination, as something
+I could have risked immortality to
+win—she, whom gladly, from the floor of
+her own lighted temple, in the very face
+of its proud ministers, I would have borne
+away in triumph, and defied all punishments,
+both human and sacred, to make
+her mine,—she was now before me,
+thrown, as if by fate itself, into my power—standing
+there, beautiful and alone,
+with nothing but her innocence for her
+guard! Yet, no—so touching was the
+purity of the whole scene, so calm and august
+that protection which the dead seemed
+to extend over the living, that every
+earthlier feeling was forgotten as I gazed,
+and love itself became exalted into reverence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Entranced, indeed, as I felt in witnessing
+such a scene, thus to enjoy it by stealth,
+seemed a wrong, a sacrilege—and, rather
+<pb n="61"/><anchor id="Pg061"/>than let her eyes meet the flash of mine,
+or disturb, by a whisper, that sacred silence,
+in which Youth and Death held communion
+through Love, I would have let my
+heart break, without a murmur, where
+I stood. Gently, as if life depended upon
+every movement, I stole away from
+that tranquil and holy scene—leaving
+it still tranquil and holy as I found it—and,
+gliding back through the same
+passages and windings by which I had
+entered, regained the narrow stair-way,
+and again ascended into light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun had just risen, and, from
+the summit of the Arabian hills, was
+pouring down his beams into that vast
+valley of waters,—as if proud of the
+homage that had been paid to his own
+Isis, now fading away in the superior
+light of her Lord. My first impulse
+was to fly from this dangerous spot,
+and in new loves and pleasures seek forgetfulness
+of the scene which I had witnessed.
+<q>Once out of the circle of this
+<pb n="62"/><anchor id="Pg062"/>enchantment,</q> I exclaimed, <q>I know my
+own susceptibility to new impressions too
+well, to doubt that I shall soon break
+the spell that is around me.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But vain were my efforts and resolves.
+Even while I swore to fly, my steps were
+still lingering round the pyramid—my
+eyes still turned towards the secret portal,
+which severed this enchantress from the
+world of the living. Hour after hour did
+I wander through that City of Silence,—till,
+already, it was noon, and, under the
+sun’s meridian eye, the mighty pyramid of
+pyramids stood, like a great spirit, shadowless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again did those wild and passionate feelings,
+which had, for a moment, been subdued
+into reverence by her presence, return
+to kindle up my imagination and senses.
+I even reproached myself for the awe,
+that had held me spell-bound before her.
+<q>What would my companions of the
+Garden say, did they know that their
+chief,—he, whose path Love had strewed
+<pb n="63"/><anchor id="Pg063"/>with trophies—was now pining for a
+simple Egyptian girl, in whose presence
+he had not dared to give utterance to a
+sigh, and who had vanquished the victor,
+without even knowing her triumph!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A blush came over my cheek at the
+humiliating thought, and my determination
+was fixed to await her coming.
+That she should be an inmate of those
+gloomy caverns seemed inconceivable;
+nor did there appear to be any issue
+from their depths but by the pyramid.
+Again, therefore, like a sentinel of the
+dead, did I pace up and down among
+these tombs, contrasting, in many a
+mournful reflection, the burning fever
+within my own veins with the cold quiet
+of those who slept around.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length the fierce glow of the sun
+over my head, and, still more, that
+ever restless agitation in my heart, were
+too much for even strength like mine to
+bear. Exhausted, I lay down at the base
+of the pyramid—placing myself directly
+<pb n="64"/><anchor id="Pg064"/>under the portal, where, even should
+slumber surprise me, my heart, if not
+my ear, might still be on the watch, and
+her footstep, light as it was, could not fail
+to awake me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After many an ineffectual struggle against
+drowsiness, I at length sunk into sleep—but
+not into forgetfulness. The same
+image still haunted me, in every variety of
+shape, with which imagination, assisted by
+memory, could invest it. Now, like Neïtha,
+upon her throne at Saïs, she seemed to
+sit, with the veil just raised from that brow,
+which mortal had never, till then, beheld,—and
+now, like the beautiful enchantress
+Rhodope, I saw her rise out of the
+pyramid in which she had dwelt for
+ages,—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“Fair Rhodope, as story tells,</l>
+<l>The bright, unearthly nymph, who dwells</l>
+<l>Mid sunless gold and jewels hid,</l>
+<l>The Lady of the Pyramid!”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+So long, amid that unbroken silence,
+did my sleep continue, that I found the
+<pb n="65"/><anchor id="Pg065"/>moon again shining above the horizon,
+when I awoke. All around was silent and
+lifeless as before, nor did a print upon the
+herbage betray that any foot had passed it
+since my own. Refreshed by rest, and with
+a fancy still more excited by the mystic
+wonders of which I had been dreaming, I
+now resolved to revisit the chapel in the
+pyramid, and put an end, if possible, to this
+illusion that haunted me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having learned from the experience of
+the preceding night, the inconvenience of
+encountering those labyrinths without a
+light, I now hastened to provide myself with
+a lamp from my boat. Tracking my way
+back with some difficulty to the shore, I
+there found, not only my lamp, but some
+dates and dried fruits, with a store of
+which, for my roving life upon the waters,
+I was always supplied,—and which now,
+after so many hours of abstinence, were a
+welcome and necessary relief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus prepared, I again ascended the
+pyramid, and was proceeding to search
+<pb n="66"/><anchor id="Pg066"/>out the secret spring, when a loud, dismal
+noise was heard at a distance, to which all
+the echoes of the cemetery answered. It
+came, I knew, from the Great Temple on
+the shore of the Lake, and was the shriek
+which its gates—the Gates of Oblivion, as
+they were called—sent forth from their
+hinges, in opening at night, to receive
+within their precincts the newly-landed
+dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had heard that sound before, and
+always with sadness; but, at this moment,
+it thrilled through me, like a voice of ill
+omen, and I almost doubted whether I
+should not abandon my enterprise. The
+hesitation, however, was but momentary;—even
+while it passed through my mind,
+I had touched the spring of the portal.
+In a few seconds more, I was again in the
+passage beneath the pyramid, and being
+enabled by my lamp to follow the windings
+of the way more rapidly, soon found
+myself at the door of the small chapel in
+the gallery.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="67"/><anchor id="Pg067"/>
+
+<p>
+I entered, still awed, though there was
+now nothing living within. The young
+Priestess had fled—had vanished, like a
+spirit, into the darkness. All the rest was
+as I had left it on the preceding night.
+The lamp still stood burning upon the
+crystal shrine—the cross lay where the
+hands of the young mourner had placed
+it, and the cold image beneath wore the
+same tranquil look, as if resigned to the
+solitude of death—of all lone things the
+loneliest. Remembering the lips that I
+had seen kiss that cross, and kindling with
+the recollection, I raised it passionately to
+my own;—but, at the same moment, I
+fancied the dead eyes met mine, and,
+saddened in the midst of my ardour, I replaced
+the cross upon the shrine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had now lost all clue to the object
+of my pursuit, and was preparing slowly
+to retrace my steps to earth, with that
+gloomy satisfaction which certainty, even
+when unwelcome, brings,—when, as I held
+forth my lamp, on leaving the chapel, I
+<pb n="68"/><anchor id="Pg068"/>could perceive that the gallery, instead of
+terminating here, took a sudden bend to
+the left, which had before eluded my eye,
+and which gave a promise of leading still
+further into those recesses. Re-animated
+by this discovery, which opened a new
+source of hope to my heart, I cast but one
+hesitating look at my lamp, as if to ask
+whether it would be faithful through the
+gloom I was about to encounter, and,
+without further thought, rushed eagerly
+forward.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="69"/><anchor id="Pg069"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. VII.</head>
+
+<p>
+The path led, for some time, through the
+same sort of narrow windings as those
+which I had encountered in descending
+the stair-way; and at length opened, in a
+similar manner, into a straight and steep
+gallery, along each side of which stood,
+closely ranged and upright, a file of lifeless
+bodies, whose glassy eyes threw a preternatural
+glare upon me as I passed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Arrived at the end of this gallery, I
+found my hopes a second time vanish.
+The path, I perceived, extended no further.
+The only object that I could discern,
+by the glimmering of my lamp, which now,
+every minute, burned fainter and fainter,
+was the mouth of a huge well, that lay
+gaping before me—a reservoir of darkness,
+black and unfathomable. It now crossed
+my memory that I had heard of such wells,
+as being used occasionally for passages
+<pb n="70"/><anchor id="Pg070"/>by the Priests. Leaning down, therefore,
+over the edge, I looked anxiously within,
+to discover whether it was possible to
+descend into the chasm; but the sides
+were hard and smooth as glass, being
+varnished all over with that dark pitch,
+which the Dead Sea throws out on its slimy
+shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a more attentive scrutiny, however,
+I observed, at the depth of a few
+feet, a sort of iron step, projecting dimly
+from the side, and, below it, another, which,
+though hardly perceptible, was just sufficient
+to encourage an adventurous foot to
+the trial. Though all hope of tracing the
+young Priestess was at an end,—it being
+impossible that female foot should have
+dared this descent,—yet, as I had so far
+engaged in the adventure, and there was,
+at least, a mystery to be unravelled, I determined,
+at all hazards, to explore the
+chasm. Placing my lamp (which was hollowed
+at the bottom, so as to fit like a
+helmet) firmly on my head, and having
+<pb n="71"/><anchor id="Pg071"/>thus both hands at liberty for exertion, I
+set my foot cautiously on the iron step, and
+descended into the well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found the same footing, at regular intervals,
+to a considerable depth; and had
+already counted near a hundred of these
+steps, when the ladder altogether ceased,
+and I could descend no farther. In vain
+did I stretch down my foot in search of
+support—the hard, slippery sides were
+all that it encountered. At length, stooping
+my head, so as to let the light fall
+below, I observed an opening or window
+directly above the step on which I stood,
+and, taking for granted that the way must
+lie in that direction, with some little difficulty
+clambered through the aperture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now found myself on a rude and narrow
+stair-way, the steps of which were cut
+out of the living rock, and wound spirally
+downward in the same direction as the well.
+Almost dizzy with the descent, which
+seemed as if it would never end, I, at last,
+reached the bottom, where a pair of massy
+<pb n="72"/><anchor id="Pg072"/>iron gates closed directly across my path,
+as if to forbid any further progress. Massy,
+however, and gigantic as they were, I
+found, to my surprise, that the hand of
+an infant might have opened them with
+ease—so readily did their great folds give
+way to my touch,
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“Light as a lime-bush, that receives</l>
+<l>Some wandering bird among its leaves.”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+No sooner, however, had I passed through,
+than the din, with which the gates clashed
+together again, was such as might have
+awakened death itself. It seemed as if every
+echo, throughout that vast, subterranean
+world, from the Catacombs of Alexandria
+to Thebes’s Valley of Kings, had
+caught up and repeated the thundering
+sound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Startled, however, as I was, not even this
+supernatural clangour could divert my attention
+from the light that now broke upon
+me—soft, warm, and welcome as are the
+stars of his own South to the mariner
+<pb n="73"/><anchor id="Pg073"/>who has been wandering through the seas
+of the north. Looking for the source of
+this splendour, I saw, through an archway
+opposite, a long illuminated alley,
+stretching away as far as the eye could
+reach, and fenced, on one side, with
+thickets of odoriferous shrubs, while,
+along the other, extended a line of lofty
+arcades, from which the light, that filled
+the whole area, issued. As soon, too,
+as the din of the deep echoes had subsided,
+there stole gradually on my ear
+a strain of choral music, which appeared
+to come, mellowed and sweetened in its
+passage, through many a spacious hall
+within those shining arcades. Among the
+voices I could distinguish some female
+tones, towering high and clear over
+all the rest, and forming the spire, as it
+were, into which the harmony tapered, as
+it rose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So excited was my fancy by this sudden
+enchantment, that—though never had I
+caught a sound from the young Egyptian’s
+<pb n="74"/><anchor id="Pg074"/>lips,—I yet persuaded myself that the voice
+I now heard was hers, sounding highest
+and most heavenly of all that choir, and
+calling to me, like a distant spirit out of its
+sphere. Animated by this thought, I flew
+forward to the archway, but found, to my
+mortification, that it was guarded by a
+trellis-work, whose bars, though invisible
+at a distance, resisted all my efforts to
+force them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While occupied in these ineffectual
+struggles, I perceived, to the left of the
+archway, a dark, cavernous opening, which
+seemed to lead in a direction parallel to
+the lighted arcades. Notwithstanding my
+impatience, however, the aspect of this passage,
+as I looked shudderingly into it, chilled
+my very blood. It was not so much darkness,
+as a sort of livid and ghastly twilight,
+from which a damp, like that of death-vaults,
+exhaled, and through which, if
+my eyes did not deceive me, pale, phantom-like
+shapes were, at that very moment,
+hovering.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="75"/><anchor id="Pg075"/>
+
+<p>
+Looking anxiously round, to discover
+some less formidable outlet, I saw, over
+the vast folding-gates through which I
+had just passed, a blue, tremulous flame,
+which, after playing for a few seconds
+over the dark ground of the pediment,
+settled gradually into characters of light,
+and formed the following words:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>You, who would try</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Yon terrible track,</l>
+<l>To live, or to die,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">But ne’er to look back—</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>You, who aspire</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">To be purified there,</l>
+<l>By the terrors of Fire,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Of Water, and Air,—</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>If danger, and pain,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">And death you despise,</l>
+<l>On—for again</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Into light you shall rise;</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>Rise into light</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">With that Secret Divine,</l>
+<l>Now shrouded from sight</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">By the Veils of the Shrine!</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>But if——</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="76"/><anchor id="Pg076"/>
+
+<p>
+Here the letters faded away into a dead
+blank, more awfully intelligible than the
+most eloquent words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A new hope now flashed across me.
+The dream of the Garden, which had
+been for some time almost forgotten, returned
+to my mind. <q>Am I then,</q> I
+exclaimed, <q>in the path to the promised
+mystery? and shall the great secret of
+Eternal Life <hi rend="italic">indeed</hi> be mine?</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Yes!</q> seemed to answer, out of the
+air, that spirit-voice, which still was heard
+crowning the choir with its single sweetness.
+I hailed the omen with transport.
+Love and Immortality, both beckoning
+me onward—who could give a thought
+to fear, with two such bright hopes in
+view? Having invoked and blessed
+that unknown enchantress, whose steps
+had led me to this abode of mystery and
+knowledge, I plunged into the chasm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instead of that vague, spectral twilight
+which had at first met my eye, I now
+found, as I entered, a thick darkness,
+<pb n="77"/><anchor id="Pg077"/>which, though far less horrible, was,
+at this moment, still more disconcerting,
+as my lamp, which had been, for
+some time, almost useless, was fast expiring.
+Resolved, however, to make the
+most of its last gleam, I hastened, with
+rapid step, through this gloomy region,
+which seemed wider and more open to
+the air than any that I had yet passed.
+Nor was it long before the appearance
+of a bright blaze in the distance announced
+to me that my first great Trial
+was at hand. As I drew nearer, the
+flames burst high and wide on all sides;—and
+the spectacle that now presented itself
+was such as might have appalled even
+hearts more habituated to dangers than
+mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There lay before me, extending completely
+across my path, a thicket, or grove
+of the most combustible trees of Egypt—tamarind,
+pine, and Arabian balm.
+Around their stems and branches were
+coiled serpents of fire, which, twisting
+<pb n="78"/><anchor id="Pg078"/>themselves rapidly from bough to bough,
+spread their own wild-fire as they went,
+and involved tree after tree in one general
+blaze. It was, indeed, rapid as the burning
+of those reed-beds of Ethiopia, whose
+light brightens, at night, the distant cataracts
+of the Nile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the middle of this blazing
+grove, I perceived, my only pathway lay.
+There was not a moment to be lost—the
+conflagration gained rapidly on either side,
+and already the narrowing path between
+was strewed with fire. Casting away my
+now useless lamp, and holding my robe
+as some protection over my head, with a
+tremor, I own, in every limb, I ventured
+through the blaze.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Instantly, as if my presence had given
+new life to the flames, a fresh outbreak
+of combustion arose on all sides. The
+trees clustered into a bower of fire above
+my head, while the serpents, that hung
+hissing from the red branches, shot showers
+of sparkles down upon me, as I passed.
+<pb n="79"/><anchor id="Pg079"/>Never were decision and activity more serviceable;—one
+minute later, and I must
+have perished. The narrow opening, of
+which I had so promptly availed myself,
+closed instantly behind me; and, as I
+looked back, to contemplate the ordeal
+which I had passed, I saw that the whole
+grove was already one mass of fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Happy at having escaped this first trial,
+I plucked from one of the pine-trees a
+bough that was but just kindled, and, with
+this for my only guide, hastened breathlessly
+forward. I had gone but a few
+paces, when the path turned suddenly off,—leading
+downwards, as I could see by
+the glimmer of my brand, into a more
+confined space, through which a chilling
+air, as if from some neighbouring waters,
+blew over my brow. Nor had I proceeded
+very far, when the sound of torrents
+fell on my ear,—mingled, as I thought,
+from time to time, with shrill wailings,
+like the cries of persons in danger or
+<pb n="80"/><anchor id="Pg080"/>distress. At every step the noise of the
+dashing waters increased, and I now perceived
+that I had entered an immense
+rocky cavern, through the middle of
+which, headlong as a winter-torrent, the
+flood, to whose roar I had been listening,
+rushed. Upon its surface, too, there
+floated strange, spectre-like shapes, which,
+as they went by, sent forth those dismal
+shrieks, as if in fear of some precipice to
+whose brink they were hurrying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw too plainly that my course must
+be across that torrent. It was fearful; but
+in courage lay my only hope. What
+awaited me on the opposite shore, I knew
+not; for all there was wrapped in impenetrable
+gloom, nor could the weak
+light I held reach half so far. Dismissing,
+however, all thoughts but that of
+pressing onward, I sprung from the rock
+on which I stood into the flood,—trusting
+that, with my right hand, I should be
+able to buffet the current, while, with
+the other, I might contrive to hold my
+<pb n="81"/><anchor id="Pg081"/>brand aloft, as long as a glimmer of it
+remained, to guide me to the shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Long and formidable was the struggle
+I had to maintain. More than once,
+overpowered by the rush of the waters, I
+had almost given myself up, as destined to
+follow those apparitions, that still passed
+me, hurrying, with mournful cries, to their
+doom in some invisible gulf before them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length, just as my strength was
+nearly exhausted, and the last remains of
+the pine-branch were falling from my hand,
+I saw, outstretching towards me into the
+water, a light double balustrade, with a
+flight of steps between, ascending, almost
+perpendicularly, from the wave, till they
+seemed lost in a dense mass of clouds
+above. This glimpse—for it was no
+more, as my light expired in giving it—lent
+new spring to my courage. Having
+now both hands at liberty, so desperate
+were my efforts, that after a few
+minutes’ struggle, I felt my brow <anchor id="corr081"/><corr sic="stirke">strike</corr>
+<pb n="82"/><anchor id="Pg082"/>against the stairway, and, in an instant
+more, my feet were on the steps.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rejoiced at my rescue from that perilous
+flood, though I knew not whither the
+stairway led, I promptly ascended it.
+But this feeling of confidence was of short
+duration. I had not mounted far, when,
+to my horror, I perceived, that each successive
+step, as my foot left it, broke away
+from beneath me,—leaving me in midair,
+with no other alternative than that of
+mounting still by the same momentary
+footing, and with the dreadful doubt whether
+it would even endure my tread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus did I, for a few seconds,
+continue to ascend, with nothing beneath
+me but that awful river, in which—so
+tranquil it had become—I could hear
+the plash of the falling fragments, as every
+step in succession gave way under my feet.
+It was a trying moment, but still worse
+remained. I now found the balustrade,
+by which I had held during my ascent,
+and which had hitherto seemed firm,
+<pb n="83"/><anchor id="Pg083"/>grow tremulous in my hand,—while the
+step to which I was about to trust myself,
+tottered under my foot. Just then,
+a momentary flash, as if of lightning,
+broke around, and I saw, hanging out
+of the clouds, within my reach, a huge
+brazen ring. Instinctively I stretched forth
+my arm to seize it, and, at the same instant,
+both balustrade and steps gave way
+beneath me, and I was left swinging by
+my hands in the dark void. As if, too,
+this massy ring, which I grasped, was by
+some magic power linked with all the
+winds in heaven, no sooner had I seized
+it than, like the touching of a spring,
+it seemed to give loose to every variety of
+gusts and tempests, that ever strewed the
+sea-shore with wrecks or dead; and, as I
+swung about, the sport of this elemental
+strife, each new burst of its fury threatened
+to shiver me, like a storm-sail, to atoms!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor was even this the worst;—still
+holding, I know not how, by the ring, I
+felt myself caught up, as if by a thousand
+<pb n="84"/><anchor id="Pg084"/>whirlwinds, and round and round, like a
+stone-shot in a sling, whirled in the midst
+of all this deafening chaos, till my brain
+grew dizzy, and my recollection confused,
+and I almost fancied myself on that wheel
+of the infernal world, whose rotations, it
+is said, Eternity alone can number!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Human strength could no longer sustain
+such a trial. I was on the point,
+at last, of loosing my hold, when suddenly
+the violence of the storm moderated;—my
+whirl through the air gradually ceased,
+and I felt the ring slowly descend with
+me, till—happy as a shipwrecked mariner
+at the first touch of land—I found
+my feet once more upon firm ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the same moment, a light of the
+most delicious softness filled the whole air.
+Music, such as is heard in dreams, came
+floating at a distance; and, as my eyes gradually
+recovered their powers of vision,
+a scene of glory was revealed to them,
+almost too bright for imagination, and
+yet living and real. As far as the sight
+<pb n="85"/><anchor id="Pg085"/>could reach, enchanting gardens were
+seen, opening away through long tracts
+of light and verdure, and sparkling every
+where with fountains, that circulated, like
+streams of life, among the flowers. Not
+a charm was here wanting, that the imagination
+of poet or prophet, in their pictures
+of Elysium, ever yet dreamed or
+promised. Vistas, opening into scenes of
+indistinct grandeur,—streams, shining out
+at intervals, in their shadowy course,—and
+labyrinths of flowers, leading, by
+mysterious windings, to green, spacious
+glades, full of splendour and repose. Over
+all this, too, there fell a light, from some
+unseen source, resembling nothing that
+illumines our upper world—a sort of
+golden moonlight, mingling the warm radiance
+of day with the calm and melancholy
+lustre of night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor were there wanting inhabitants for
+this sunless Paradise. Through all the
+bright gardens were wandering, with the
+serene air and step of happy spirits, groups
+<pb n="86"/><anchor id="Pg086"/>both of young and old, of venerable and of
+lovely forms, bearing, most of them, the
+Nile’s white flowers on their heads, and
+branches of the eternal palm in their
+hands; while, over the verdant turf, fair
+children and maidens went dancing to
+aërial music, whose source was, like that
+of the light, invisible, but which filled
+the whole air with its mystic sweetness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Exhausted as I was by the trials I had
+undergone, no sooner did I perceive those
+fair groups in the distance, than my weariness,
+both of frame and spirit, was forgotten.
+A thought crossed me that she,
+whom I sought, might be among them;
+and, notwithstanding the awe, with which
+that unearthly scene inspired me, I was
+about to fly, on the instant, to ascertain my
+hope. But in the act of making the effort,
+I felt my robe gently pulled, and turning,
+beheld an aged man before me, whom, by
+the sacred hue of his garb, I knew to be
+a Hierophant. Placing a branch of the
+consecrated palm in my hand, he said,
+<pb n="87"/><anchor id="Pg087"/>in a solemn voice, <q>Aspirant of the Mysteries,
+welcome!</q>—then, regarding me
+for a few seconds with grave attention,
+added, in a tone of courteousness and interest,
+<q>The victory over the body hath
+been gained!—Follow me, young Greek,
+to thy resting place.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I obeyed in silence,—and the Priest,
+turning away from this scene of splendour,
+into a secluded path, where the light faded
+away, as we advanced, conducted me to a
+small pavilion, by the side of a whispering
+stream, where the very spirit of slumber
+seemed to preside, and, pointing to
+a bed of dried poppy-leaves within it, left
+me to repose.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="88"/><anchor id="Pg088"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. VIII.</head>
+
+<p>
+Though the sight of that splendid scene
+which opened upon me, like a momentary
+glimpse into another world, had, for an instant,
+re-animated my strength and spirit,
+so completely had fatigue overmastered my
+whole frame, that, even had the form of
+the young Priestess stood before me, my
+limbs would have sunk in the effort to
+reach her. No sooner had I fallen on my
+leafy couch, than sleep, like a sudden
+death, came over me; and I lay, for hours,
+in the deep, and motionless rest, which not
+even a shadow of life disturbs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On awaking I saw, beside me, the same
+venerable personage, who had welcomed
+me to this subterranean world on the preceding
+night. At the foot of my couch stood
+a statue, of Grecian workmanship, representing
+a boy, with wings, seated gracefully
+<pb n="89"/><anchor id="Pg089"/>on a lotus-flower, and having the forefinger
+of his right hand pressed to his lips.
+This action, together with the glory round
+his brows, denoted, as I already knew,
+the God of Silence and Light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Impatient to know what further trials
+awaited me, I was about to speak, when
+the Priest exclaimed, anxiously, <q>Hush!</q>—and
+pointing to this statue at the foot
+of the couch, said—<q>Let the spell of that
+Spirit be on thy lips, young stranger, till
+the wisdom of thy instructors shall think
+fit to remove it. Not unaptly doth the same
+god preside over Silence and Light; since
+it is only out of the depth of contemplative
+silence, that the great light of the soul,
+Truth, arises!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little used to the language of dictation
+or instruction, I was now preparing to rise,
+when the priest again restrained me; and,
+at the same moment, two boys, beautiful as
+the young Genii of the stars, entered the
+pavilion. They were habited in long
+garments of the purest white, and bore
+<pb n="90"/><anchor id="Pg090"/>each a small golden chalice in his hand.
+Advancing towards me, they stopped on
+opposite sides of the couch, and one of
+them, presenting to me his chalice of gold,
+said, in a tone between singing and speaking,—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“Drink of this cup—Osiris sips</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">The same in his halls below;</l>
+<l>And the same he gives, to cool the lips</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Of the Dead, who downward go.</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>“Drink of this cup—the water within</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Is fresh from Lethe’s stream;</l>
+<l>’Twill make the past with all its sin,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">And all its pain and sorrows, seem</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Like a long-forgotten dream!</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>“The pleasure, whose charms</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Are steep’d in woe;</l>
+<l>The knowledge, that harms</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">The soul to know;</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>“The hope, that, bright</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">As the lake of the waste,</l>
+<l>Allures the sight,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">But mocks the taste;</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="91"/><anchor id="Pg091"/>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“The love, that binds</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Its innocent wreath,</l>
+<l>Where the serpent winds,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">In venom, beneath;—</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>“All that, of evil or false, by thee</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Hath ever been known or seen,</l>
+<l>Shall melt away in this cup, and be</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Forgot, as it never had been!”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Unwilling to throw a slight on this
+strange ceremony, I leaned forward, with
+all due gravity, and tasted the cup;
+which I had no sooner done than the
+young cup-bearer, on the other side,
+invited my attention, and, in his turn,
+presenting the chalice which he held,
+sung, with a voice still sweeter than that
+of his companion, the following strain:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“Drink of this cup—when Isis led</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Her boy, of old, to the beaming sky,</l>
+<l>She mingled a draught divine, and said—</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">‘Drink of this cup, thou’lt never die!’</l>
+</lg>
+<lg>
+<l>“Thus do I say and sing to thee,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Heir of that boundless heav’n on high,</l>
+<l>Though frail, and fall’n, and lost thou be,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Drink of this cup, thou’lt never die!”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="92"/><anchor id="Pg092"/>
+
+<p>
+Much as I had endeavoured to keep my
+philosophy on its guard, against the illusions
+with which, I knew, this region
+abounded, the young cup-bearer had here
+touched a spring of imagination, over
+which, as has been seen, my philosophy
+had but little controul. No sooner had
+the words, <q>thou shalt never die,</q> struck
+on my ear, than the dream of the Garden
+came fully to my mind, and, starting half-way
+from the couch, I stretched forth my
+hands to the cup. Recollecting myself,
+however, and fearful of having betrayed
+to others a weakness only fit for my own
+secret indulgence, with an affected smile
+of indifference I sunk back again on my
+couch,—while the young minstrel, but
+little interrupted by my movement, still
+continued his strain, of which I heard but
+the concluding words:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“And Memory, too, with her dreams shall come,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Dreams of a former, happier day,</l>
+<l>When Heaven was still the Spirit’s home,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">And her wings had not yet fallen away;</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="93"/><anchor id="Pg093"/>
+
+<lg>
+<l>“Glimpses of glory, ne’er forgot,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">That tell, like gleams on a sunset sea,</l>
+<l>What once hath been, what now is not,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">But, oh, what again shall brightly be!”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Though the assurances of immortality,
+contained in these verses, would, at any
+other moment,—vain and visionary as I
+thought them,—have sent my fancy wandering
+into reveries of the future, the
+effort of self-control I had just made enabled
+me to hear them with indifference.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having gone through the form of tasting
+this second cup, I again looked anxiously
+to the Hierophant, to ascertain whether I
+might be permitted to rise. His assent
+having been given, the young pages brought
+to my couch a robe and tunic, which, like
+their own, were of linen of the purest
+white; and having assisted to clothe me in
+this sacred garb, they then placed upon
+my head a chaplet of myrtle, in which the
+symbol of Initiation, a golden <anchor id="corr093"/><corr sic="grashopper">grasshopper</corr>,
+was seen shining out from among the dark
+leaves.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="94"/><anchor id="Pg094"/>
+
+<p>
+Though sleep had done much to refresh
+my frame, something more was still wanting
+to restore its strength; and it was not
+without a smile at my own reveries I
+reflected, how much more welcome than
+the young page’s cup of immortality was
+the unpretending, but real, repast now set
+before me,—fresh fruits from the Isle of
+Gardens in the Nile, the delicate flesh of
+the desert antelope, and wine from the
+Vineyard of the Queens at Anthylla,
+fanned by one of the pages with a palm-leaf,
+to keep it cool.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having done justice to these dainties, it
+was with pleasure I heard the proposal of
+the Priest, that we should now walk forth
+together, and meditate among the scenes
+without. I had not forgotten the elysium
+that welcomed me last night,—those enchanted
+gardens, that mysterious music,
+and light, and the fair forms I saw wandering
+about,—as if, in the very midst of happiness,
+still seeking it. The hope, which
+had then occurred to me, that, perhaps,
+<pb n="95"/><anchor id="Pg095"/>among those sparkling groups, might be
+the maiden I sought, now returned with
+increased strength. I had little doubt that
+my guide was about to lead to the same
+Elysian scene, and that the form, so fit to
+inhabit it, would again appear before my
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But far different was the region to which
+he conducted me; nor could the whole
+world produce a scene more gloomy, or
+more strange. It had the appearance of
+a small, solitary valley, inclosed, on every
+side, by rocks, which seemed to rise, almost
+perpendicularly, to the very sky;—for
+it was, indeed, the blue sky that I saw
+shining between their summits, and whose
+light, dimmed and half lost, in its descent
+thus far, formed the melancholy daylight
+of this nether world.<note place="foot"><q>On s’étoit même avisé, depuis la première
+construction de ces demeures, de percer en plusieurs
+endroits jusq’au haut les terres qui les couvroient;
+non pas, à la vérité, pour tirer un jour qui
+n’auroit jamais été suffisant, mais pour recevoir un
+air salutaire, &amp;c.</q>—<hi rend="italic">Sethos.</hi></note> Down the side of
+<pb n="96"/><anchor id="Pg096"/>these rocky walls fell a cataract, whose
+source was upon earth, and on whose
+waters, as they rolled glassily over the
+edge above, a gleam of radiance rested,
+that showed how brilliant was the sunshine
+they left. From thence, gradually
+darkening, and broken, in its long descent,
+by alternate chasms and projections,
+the stream fell, at last, in a pale and thin
+mist—the phantom of what it had been
+on earth—into a small lake that lay at
+the base of the rock to receive it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing could be more bleak and saddening
+than the appearance of this lake.
+The usual ornaments of the waters of
+Egypt were not wanting: the lotus here uplifted
+her silvery flowers, and the crimson
+flamingo floated over the tide. But they
+were, neither of them, the same as in the
+upper world;—the flower had exchanged
+its whiteness for a livid hue, and the wings
+of the bird hung heavy and colourless.
+Every thing wore the same half-living
+aspect; and the only sounds that
+dis<pb n="97"/><anchor id="Pg097"/>turbed the mournful stillness were the
+wailing cry of a heron among the sedges,
+and that din of the waters, in their midway
+struggle, above.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was an unearthly sadness in the
+whole scene, of which no heart, however
+light, could resist the influence. Perceiving
+how I was affected by it, <q>Such
+scenes,</q> said the Priest, <q>are best suited to
+that solemn complexion of mind, which
+becomes him who approaches the Great
+Secret of futurity. Behold,</q>—and, in
+saying thus, he pointed to the opening over
+our heads, through which I could perceive
+a star or two twinkling in the heavens,
+though the sun had but a short time passed
+his meridian,—<q>as from this gloomy depth
+we can see those stars, which are now
+invisible to the dwellers upon the bright
+earth, even so, to the sad and self-humbled
+spirit, doth many a mystery of heaven
+reveal itself, of which they, who walk in
+the light of the proud world, know not!</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="98"/><anchor id="Pg098"/>
+
+<p>
+He now led me towards a rustic seat or
+alcove, beside which stood an image of
+that dark Deity, that God without a smile,
+who presides over the kingdom of the
+Dead.<note place="foot">Osiris.</note> The same livid and lifeless hue
+was upon his features, that hung over every
+thing in this dim valley; and, with his
+right hand, he pointed directly downwards,
+to denote that his melancholy
+kingdom lay there. A plantain—that
+favourite tree of the genii of Death—stood
+behind the statue, and spread its
+branches over the alcove, in which the
+Priest now, seating himself, signified that
+I should take my place by his side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a long pause, as if of thought and
+preparation,—<q>Nobly,</q> said he, <q>young
+Greek, hast thou sustained the first trials
+of Initiation. What remains, though of
+vital import to the soul, brings with it
+neither pain nor peril to the body. Having
+now proved and chastened thy mortal
+frame, by the three ordeals of Fire, of
+<pb n="99"/><anchor id="Pg099"/>Water, and of Air, the next task to which
+we are called is the purification of thy
+spirit,—the cleansing of that inward and
+immortal part, so as to render it fit for the
+reception of the last luminous revealment,
+when the Veils of the Sanctuary shall be
+thrown aside, and the Great Secret of
+Secrets unfolded to thee!—Towards this
+object, the primary and most essential step
+is, instruction. What the three purifying
+elements, through which thou hast passed,
+have done for thy body, instruction will
+effect for——</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>But that lovely maiden!</q> I exclaimed,
+bursting from my silence, having fallen,
+during his speech, into a deep revery, in
+which I had forgotten him, myself, the
+Great Secret, every thing—but her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Startled by this profane interruption, he
+cast a look of alarm towards the statue, as if
+fearful lest the God should have heard my
+words. Then, turning to me, in a tone of
+mild solemnity, <q>It is but too plain,</q>
+said he, <q>that thoughts of the upper
+<pb n="100"/><anchor id="Pg100"/>world, and of its vain delights, still engross
+thee too much, to let the lessons of
+Truth sink profitably into thy heart. A
+few hours of meditation amid this solemn
+scenery—of that wholesome meditation,
+which purifies, by saddening—may
+haply dispose thee to receive, with reverence,
+the holy and immortal knowledge
+that is in store for thee. With this hope,
+I now leave thee to thy own thoughts, and
+to that God, before whose calm and
+mournful eye the vanities of the world,
+from which thou comest, wither!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus saying, he turned slowly away,
+and passing behind the statue, towards
+which he had pointed during the last sentence,
+suddenly, and as if by enchantment,
+disappeared from my sight.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="101"/><anchor id="Pg101"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. IX.</head>
+
+<p>
+Being left to my own solitary thoughts,
+I had now leisure to reflect, with coolness,
+on the inconveniences, if not dangers, of
+the situation into which my love of adventure
+had hurried me. However ready my
+imagination was to kindle, in its own ideal
+sphere, I have ever found that, when
+brought into contact with reality, it as
+suddenly cooled;—like those meteors,
+that seem stars in the air, but, the moment
+they touch earth, are extinguished.
+Such was the disenchantment that now
+succeeded to the dreams in which I had
+been indulging. As long as Fancy had
+the field of the future to herself, even immortality
+did not seem too distant a race
+for her. But when human instruments
+interposed, the illusion vanished. From
+mortal lips the promise of immortality
+<pb n="102"/><anchor id="Pg102"/>seemed a mockery, and imagination herself
+had no wings that could carry beyond
+the grave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor was this disappointment the only
+feeling that occupied me;—the imprudence
+of the step, which I had taken, now
+appeared in its full extent before my eyes.
+I had thrown myself into the power of
+the most artful priesthood in the world,
+without a chance of being able to escape
+from their toils, or to resist any machinations
+with which they might beset me. It
+seemed evident, from the state of preparation
+in which I had found all that wonderful
+apparatus, by which the terrors and splendours
+of Initiation are produced, that my
+descent into the pyramid was not unexpected.
+Numerous, indeed, and active as
+were the spies of the Sacred College of
+Memphis, there could be but little doubt
+that all my movements, since my arrival,
+had been tracked; and the many hours
+I had passed in watching and wandering
+round the pyramid, betrayed a curiosity
+<pb n="103"/><anchor id="Pg103"/>which might well inspire these wily priests
+with the hope of drawing an Epicurean
+into their superstitious toils.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I well knew their hatred to the sect
+of which I was Chief;—that they considered
+the Epicureans as, next to the
+Christians, the most formidable enemies
+of their craft and power. <q>How thoughtless,
+then,</q> I exclaimed, <q>to have placed
+myself in a situation, where I am equally
+helpless against their fraud and violence,
+and must either seem to be the dupe of
+their impostures, or submit to become
+the victim of their vengeance.</q> Of these
+alternatives, bitter as they were, the latter
+appeared by far the more welcome. I
+blushed even to think of the mockeries
+to which I already had yielded; and the
+prospect of being put through still further
+ceremonials, and of being tutored and
+preached to by hypocrites I despised,
+appeared to me, in my present temper,
+a trial of patience, to which the flames
+<pb n="104"/><anchor id="Pg104"/>and the whirlwinds I had already encountered
+were pastime.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often and impatiently did I look up,
+between those rocky walls, to the bright
+sky that appeared to rest upon their summits,
+as, round and round, through every
+part of the valley, I endeavoured to find an
+outlet from its gloomy precincts. But in
+vain I endeavoured;—that rocky barrier,
+which seemed to end but in heaven, interposed
+itself every where. Neither did the
+image of the young maiden, though constantly
+in my mind, now bring with it the
+least consolation or hope. Of what avail
+was it that she, perhaps, was an inhabitant
+of this region, if I could neither see
+her smile, nor catch the sound of her voice,—if,
+while among preaching priests I
+wasted away my hours, her presence
+diffused its enchantment elsewhere.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length exhausted, I lay down by the
+brink of the lake, and gave myself up to
+all the melancholy of my fancy. The
+<pb n="105"/><anchor id="Pg105"/>pale semblance of daylight, which had
+hitherto shone around, grew, every moment,
+more dim and dismal. Even the
+rich gleam, at the summit of the cascade,
+had faded; and the sunshine, like the
+water, exhausted in its descent, had now
+dwindled into a ghostly glimmer, far
+worse than darkness. The birds upon the
+lake, as if about to die with the dying
+light, sunk down their heads; and, as I
+looked to the statue, the deepening shadows
+gave an expression to its mournful features
+that chilled my very soul.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The thought of death, ever ready to
+present itself to my imagination, now came,
+with a disheartening weight, such as I had
+never before felt. I almost fancied myself
+already in the dark vestibule of the grave,—separated,
+for ever, from the world
+above, and with nothing but the blank of
+an eternal sleep before me. It had often, I
+knew, happened that the visitants of this
+mysterious realm were, after their descent
+<pb n="106"/><anchor id="Pg106"/>from earth, never seen or heard of;—being
+condemned, for some failure in their
+initiatory trials, to pine away their lives in
+the dark dungeons, with which, as well as
+with altars, this region abounded. Such,
+I shuddered to think, might probably
+be my destiny; and so appalling was the
+thought, that even the spirit of defiance
+died within me, and I was already giving
+myself up to helplessness and despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length, after some hours of this
+gloomy musing, I heard a rustling in the
+sacred grove behind the statue; and,
+soon after, the sound of the Priest’s voice—more
+welcome than I had ever thought
+such voice could be—brought the assurance
+that I was not yet, at least,
+wholly abandoned. Finding his way to
+me through the gloom, he now led me to
+the same spot, on which we had parted so
+many hours before; and, in a voice that
+retained no trace of displeasure, bespoke
+my attention, while he should reveal to
+me some of those divine truths, by whose
+<pb n="107"/><anchor id="Pg107"/>infusion, he said, into the soul of man, its
+purification can alone be effected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The valley had now become so wholly
+dark, that we could no longer discern each
+other’s faces, as we sat. There was a
+melancholy in the voice of my instructor
+that well accorded with the gloom around
+us; and, saddened and subdued, I now
+listened with resignation, if not with interest,
+to those sublime, but, alas, I
+thought, vain tenets, which, with the
+warmth of a believer, this Hierophant
+expounded to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke of the pre-existence of the
+soul,—of its abode, from all eternity, in
+a place of bliss, of which all that we have
+most beautiful in our conceptions here is but
+a dim transcript, a clouded remembrance.
+In the blue depths of ether, he said, lay that
+<q>Country of the Soul,</q>—its boundary
+alone visible in the line of milky light, that
+separates it, as by a barrier of stars, from
+the dark earth. <q>Oh, realm of purity!
+<pb n="108"/><anchor id="Pg108"/>Home of the yet unfallen Spirit!—where,
+in the days of her primal innocence, she
+wandered, ere her beauty was soiled by
+the touch of earth, or her resplendent wings
+had withered away. Methinks,</q> he cried,
+<q>I see, at this moment, those fields of
+radiance,—I look back, through the mists
+of life, into that luminous world, where
+the souls that have never lost their high,
+heavenly rank, still soar, without a stain,
+above the shadowless stars, and dwell together
+in infinite perfection and bliss!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he spoke these words, a burst of
+pure, brilliant light, like a sudden opening
+of heaven, broke through the valley; and,
+as soon as my eyes were able to endure
+the splendour, such a vision of loveliness
+and glory opened upon them, as took
+even my sceptical spirit by surprise, and
+made it yield, at once, to the potency
+of the spell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suspended, as I thought, in air, and
+occupying the whole of the opposite region
+of the valley, there appeared an immense
+<pb n="109"/><anchor id="Pg109"/>orb of light, within which, through a haze
+of radiance, I could see distinctly groups
+of young female spirits, who, in silent, but
+harmonious movement, like that of the
+stars, wound slowly through a variety of
+fanciful evolutions; and, as they linked
+and unlinked each other’s arms, formed
+a living labyrinth of beauty and grace.
+Though their feet seemed to tread along a
+field of light, they had also wings, of the
+richest hue, which, like rainbows over
+waterfalls, when played with by the breeze,
+at every moment reflected a new variety
+of glory.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I stood, gazing with wonder, the
+orb, with all its ethereal inmates, gradually
+receded into the dark void, lessening, as
+it went, and growing more bright, as it lessened;—till,
+at length, distant, apparently,
+as a retiring comet, this little world of
+Spirits, in one small point of intense radiance,
+shone its last and vanished. <q>Go,</q>
+exclaimed the rapt Priest, <q>ye happy
+souls, of whose dwelling a glimpse is thus
+<pb n="110"/><anchor id="Pg110"/>given to our eyes, go, wander, in your orb,
+through the boundless heaven, nor ever
+let a thought of this perishable world come
+to mingle its dross with your divine nature,
+or tempt you to that earthward fall, by
+which spirits, as bright, have been ruined!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A pause ensued, during which, still
+under the influence of wonder, I sent my
+fancy wandering after the inhabitants of
+that orb,—almost wishing myself credulous
+enough to believe in a heaven, of
+which creatures, so like all that I most
+loved on earth, were inmates.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length, the Priest, with a sigh at the
+contrast he was about to draw, between
+the happy spirits we had just seen and the
+fallen ones of earth, resumed his melancholy
+History of the Soul. Tracing it,
+from the first moment of earthward desire,
+to its final eclipse in the shadows of this
+world, he dwelt upon every stage of its
+darkening descent, with a pathos that sent
+sadness into the very depths of the heart.
+The first downward look of the Spirit
+to<pb n="111"/><anchor id="Pg111"/>wards earth—the tremble of her wings
+on the edge of Heaven—the giddy slide,
+at length, down that fatal descent, and the
+Lethæan cup, midway in the sky, of which
+when she has once tasted, Heaven is forgot,—through
+all these gradations he mournfully
+traced her fall, to the last stage of darkness,
+when, wholly immersed in this world,
+her celestial nature is changed, she can no
+longer rise above earth, nor remembers
+her home, but by glimpses so vague, that,
+mistaking for hope what is only memory,
+she believes them to be a light from the
+Future, not the Past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>To retrieve this ruin of the once blessed
+Soul—to clear away, from around her,
+the clouds of earth, and, restoring her lost
+wings<note place="foot">In the language of Plato, Hierocles, &amp;c. to
+<q>restore to the soul its wings,</q> is the main object
+both of religion and philosophy.</note>, facilitate their return to Heaven—such,</q>
+said the reverend man, <q>is the
+great task of our religion, and such the
+triumph of those divine Mysteries, in
+<pb n="112"/><anchor id="Pg112"/>which the life and essence of our religion
+lie. However sunk and changed and
+clouded may be the Spirit, as long as a
+single trace of her original light remains,
+there is yet hope that——</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here his voice was interrupted by a
+strain of mournful music, of which the
+low, distant breathings had been, for some
+minutes, heard, but which now gained
+upon the ear too thrillingly to let it
+listen to any more earthly sound. A
+faint light, too, at that instant broke
+through the valley,—and I could perceive,
+not far from the spot where we
+sat, a female figure, veiled, and crouching
+to earth, as if subdued by sorrow, or
+under the influence of shame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The light, by which I saw her, was
+from a pale, moon-like meteor, which had
+formed itself in the air as the music approached,
+and shed over the rocks and the
+lake a glimmer as cold as that by which
+the Dead, in their own realm, gaze on each
+other. The music, too, which appeared
+<pb n="113"/><anchor id="Pg113"/>to rise directly out of the lake, and to come
+full of the breath of its dark waters, spoke
+a despondency in every note which no
+language could express;—and, as I listened
+to its tones, and looked upon that
+fallen Spirit, (for such, the holy man
+whispered, was the form before us,) so
+entirely did the illusion of the scene take
+possession of me, that, with breathless
+anxiety, I waited the result.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor had I gazed long before that
+form rose slowly from its drooping position;—the
+air around it grew bright, and
+the pale meteor overhead assumed a more
+cheerful and living light. The veil, which
+had before shrouded the face of the figure,
+became gradually transparent, and the
+features, one by one, disclosed themselves
+through it. Having tremblingly watched
+the progress of the apparition, I now
+started from my seat, and half exclaimed,
+<q>It is she!</q> In another minute, this veil
+had, like a thin mist, melted away, and
+the young Priestess of the Moon stood,
+<pb n="114"/><anchor id="Pg114"/>for the third time, revealed before my
+eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To rush instantly towards her was my
+first impulse—but the arm of the Priest
+held me firmly back. The fresh light,
+which had begun to flow in from all sides,
+collected itself in a glory round the spot
+where she stood. Instead of melancholy
+music, strains of the most exalted rapture
+were heard; and the young maiden, buoyant
+as the inhabitants of the fairy orb,
+amid a blaze of light like that which fell
+upon her in the Temple, ascended into the
+air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Stay, beautiful vision, stay!</q> I exclaimed,
+as, breaking from the hold of the
+Priest, I flung myself prostrate on the
+ground,—the only mode by which I could
+express the admiration, even to worship,
+with which I was filled. But the vanishing
+spirit heard me not:—receding into the
+darkness, like that orb, whose track she
+seemed to follow, her form lessened away,
+till she was seen no more. Gazing, till
+<pb n="115"/><anchor id="Pg115"/>the last luminous speck had disappeared,
+I suffered myself unconsciously to be led
+away by my reverend guide, who, placing
+me once more on my bed of poppy-leaves,
+left me to such repose as it was
+possible, after such a scene, to enjoy.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="116"/><anchor id="Pg116"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. X.</head>
+
+<p>
+The apparition with which I had been
+blessed in that Valley of Visions—as the
+place where I had witnessed these wonders
+was called—brought back to my
+heart all the hopes and fancies, in which
+I had indulged during my descent from
+earth. I had now seen once more that
+matchless creature, who had been my
+guiding star into this mysterious world;
+and that she was, in some way, connected
+with the further revelations that awaited
+me, I saw no reason to doubt. There
+was a sublimity, too, in the doctrines of
+my reverend teacher, and even a hope in
+the promises of immortality held out by
+him, which, in spite of reason, won insensibly
+both upon my fancy and my pride.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Future, however, was now but of
+secondary consideration;—the Present,
+<pb n="117"/><anchor id="Pg117"/>and that deity of the Present, woman, were
+the objects that engrossed my whole soul.
+For the sake, indeed, of such beings alone
+did I think immortality desirable, nor,
+without them, would eternal life have appeared
+to me worth a prayer. To every
+further trial of my patience and faith, I
+now made up my mind to submit without
+a murmur. Some propitious chance, I
+fondly persuaded myself, might yet bring
+me nearer to the object of my adoration,
+and enable me to address, as mortal woman,
+her who had hitherto been to me but
+as a vision, a shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The period of my probation, however,
+was nearly at an end. Both frame and
+spirit had now been tried; and, as the
+crowning test of the purification of the
+latter was that power of seeing into the
+world of spirits, with which, in the Valley
+of Visions, I had proved myself to be endowed,
+there remained now, to perfect
+my Initiation, but this one night more,
+<pb n="118"/><anchor id="Pg118"/>when, in the Temple of Isis, and in the
+presence of her unveiled image, the last
+grand revelation of the Secret of Secrets
+was to open upon me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I passed the morning of this day in
+company with the same venerable personage,
+who had, from the first, presided
+over the ceremonies of my instruction; and
+who, to inspire me with due reverence for
+the power and magnificence of his religion,
+now conducted me through the long range
+of illuminated galleries and shrines, that
+extend under the site upon which Memphis
+and the Pyramids stand, and form
+a counterpart under ground to that mighty
+city of temples upon earth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He then descended with me, still lower,
+into those winding crypts, where lay the
+Seven Tables of stone, found by Hermes
+in the valley of Hebron. <q>On these
+tables,</q> said he, <q rend="post: none">is written all the knowledge
+of the antediluvian race,—the
+decrees of the stars from the beginning
+of time, the annals of a still earlier world,
+<pb n="119"/><anchor id="Pg119"/>and all the marvellous secrets, both of
+heaven and earth, which would have been,</q>
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l rend="margin-left: 8">“<hi rend="italic">but</hi> for this key,</l>
+<l>Lost in the Universal Sea.”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+Returning to the region, from which we
+had descended, we next visited, in succession,
+a series of small shrines, representing
+the various objects of adoration through
+Egypt, and thus furnishing to the Priest
+an occasion for explaining the mysterious
+nature of animal worship, and the refined
+doctrines of theology that lay veiled
+under its forms. Every shrine was consecrated
+to a particular faith, and contained
+a living image of the deity which it
+adored. Beside the goat of Mendes, with
+his refulgent star upon his breast, I saw
+the crocodile, as presented to the eyes of its
+idolaters at Arsinoë, with costly gems in its
+loathsome ears, and rich bracelets of gold
+encircling its feet. Here, floating through
+a tank in the centre of a temple, the sacred
+carp of Lepidotum exhibited its silvery
+<pb n="120"/><anchor id="Pg120"/>scales; while, there, the Isiac serpents
+trailed languidly over the altar, with that
+movement which most inspires the hopes of
+their votaries. In one of the small chapels
+we found a beautiful child, feeding and
+watching over those golden beetles, which
+are adored for their brightness, as emblems
+of the sun; while, in another, stood a
+sacred ibis upon its pedestal, so like, in
+plumage and attitude, to the bird of the
+young Priestess, that I could gladly have
+knelt down and worshipped it for her
+sake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After visiting these various shrines, and
+listening to the reflections which they suggested,
+I was next led by my guide to the
+Great Hall of the Zodiac, on whose
+ceiling, in bright and undying colours,
+was delineated the map of the firmament,
+as it appeared at the first dawn of time.
+Here, in pointing out the track of the sun,
+among the spheres, he spoke eloquently of
+the analogy that exists between moral and
+physical darkness—of the sympathy with
+<pb n="121"/><anchor id="Pg121"/>which all spiritual creatures regard the
+sun, so as to sadden and droop when he
+sinks into his wintry hemisphere, and to
+rejoice when he resumes his own empire
+of light. Hence, the festivals and
+hymns, with which most of the nations of
+the earth are wont to welcome the resurrection
+of his orb in spring, as an emblem
+and pledge of the re-ascent of the soul
+to heaven. Hence, the songs of sorrow,
+the mournful ceremonies,—like those
+Mysteries of the Night, upon the Lake of
+Saïs,—in which they brood over his
+autumnal descent into the shades, as a
+type of the Spirit’s fall into this world of
+death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In discourses such as these the hours
+passed away; and though there was nothing
+in the light of this sunless region to
+mark to the eye the decline of day, my
+own feelings told me that the night drew
+near;—nor, in spite of my incredulity,
+could I refrain from a flutter of hope, as
+<pb n="122"/><anchor id="Pg122"/>that promised moment of revelation approached,
+when the Mystery of Mysteries
+was to be made all my own. This consummation,
+however, was less near than I
+expected. My patience had still further
+trials to encounter. It was necessary, I
+now found, that I should keep watch, during
+the greater part of the night, in the
+Sanctuary of the Temple, alone and in
+darkness,—and thus prepare myself, by
+meditation, for the awful moment, when
+the irradiation from behind the sacred
+Veils was to burst upon me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the appointed hour, we left the Hall
+of the Zodiac, and proceeded through
+a line of long marble galleries, where the
+lamps were more thinly scattered as we advanced,
+till, at length, we found ourselves
+in total darkness. Here the Priest, taking
+me by the hand, and leading me down a
+flight of steps, into a place where the same
+deep gloom prevailed, said, with a voice
+trembling, as if from excess of awe,—<q>Thou
+art now in the Sanctuary of our
+<pb n="123"/><anchor id="Pg123"/>goddess, Isis, and the dark veils, that hang
+over her image, are before thee!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After exhorting me earnestly to that
+train of thought, which best accorded with
+the spirit of the place where I stood, and,
+above all, to that full and unhesitating
+faith, with which alone, he said, the manifestation
+of such mysteries should be approached,
+the holy man took leave of me,
+and re-ascended the steps;—while, so
+spell-bound did I feel by that deep darkness,
+that the last sound of his footsteps
+died upon my ear, before I ventured to stir
+a limb from the position in which he had
+left me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The prospect of the long watch, now
+before me, was dreadful. Even danger
+itself, in an active form, would have been
+preferable to this sort of safe, but dull,
+probation, by which patience was the
+only virtue put to the proof. Having
+ascertained how far the space around me
+was free from obstacles, I endeavoured
+<pb n="124"/><anchor id="Pg124"/>to beguile the time by pacing up and
+down within those limits, till I became
+tired of the echoes of my own tread.
+Finding my way, then, to what I felt to
+be a massive pillar, and, leaning wearily
+against it, I surrendered myself to a train
+of thoughts and feelings, far different
+from those with which the Hierophant
+had hoped to inspire me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Why,</q> I again asked, <q>if these
+priests possess the secret of life, why are
+they themselves the victims of death?
+why sink into the grave with the cup of
+immortality in their hands? But no, safe
+boasters, the eternity they so lavishly promise
+is reserved for <hi rend="italic">another</hi>, a future
+world—that ready resource of all priestly
+promises—that depository of the airy
+pledges of all creeds. Another world!—alas,
+where does it lie? or, what spirit
+hath ever come to say that Life is there?</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The conclusion, to which, half sadly,
+half passionately, I arrived, was that,
+life being but a dream of the moment,
+<pb n="125"/><anchor id="Pg125"/>never to come again, every bliss that is
+promised for hereafter should be secured
+by the wise man here. And, as no
+heaven I had ever heard of from these
+visionary priests opened half such certainty
+of happiness as that smile which I
+beheld last night,—<q>Let me,</q> I exclaimed,
+impatiently, striking the massy
+pillar, till it rung, <q>let me but make that
+beautiful Priestess my own, and I here
+willingly exchange for her every chance
+of immortality, that the combined wisdom
+of Egypt’s Twelve Temples can
+offer me!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No sooner had I uttered these words,
+than a tremendous peal, like that of
+thunder, rolled over the Sanctuary, and
+seemed to shake its walls. On every
+side, too, a succession of blue, vivid
+flashes pierced, like so many lances of
+light, through the gloom, revealing to
+me, at intervals, the mighty dome in
+which I stood—its ceiling of azure, studded
+with stars, its colossal columns,
+<pb n="126"/><anchor id="Pg126"/>towering aloft, and those dark, mysterious
+veils, which hung, in massy drapery, from
+the roof to the floor, and covered the rich
+glories of the Shrine under their folds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So weary had I grown of my tedious
+watch, that this stormy and fitful illumination,
+during which the Sanctuary seemed
+to rock to its base, was by no means an
+unwelcome interruption of the monotony
+under which my impatience suffered.
+After a short interval, however, the flashes
+ceased;—the sounds died away, like exhausted
+thunder, through the abyss, and
+darkness and silence, like that of the
+grave, succeeded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Resting my back once more against the
+pillar, and fixing my eyes upon that side
+of the Sanctuary, from which the promised
+irradiation was to burst, I now
+resolved to await the awful moment in
+patience. Resigned and immovable, I
+had remained thus, for nearly another
+hour, when, suddenly, along the edges
+of the mighty Veils, I perceived a thin rim
+<pb n="127"/><anchor id="Pg127"/>of light, as if from some brilliant object
+under them;—like that border which
+encircles a cloud at sunset, when the
+radiance, from behind, is escaping at its
+edges.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This indication of concealed glories
+grew every instant more strong; till, at
+last, vividly marked as it was upon the
+darkness, the narrow fringe of lustre almost
+pained the eye, giving promise of a
+splendour too bright to be endured. My
+expectations were now wound to the highest
+pitch, and all the scepticism, into
+which I had been cooling down my mind,
+was forgotten. The wonders that had
+been presented to me since my descent
+from earth—that glimpse into Elysium
+on the first night of my coming—those
+visitants from the Land of Spirits in the
+mysterious valley,—all led me to expect,
+in this last and brightest revelation, such
+visions of glory and knowledge as might
+transcend even fancy itself, nor leave
+<pb n="128"/><anchor id="Pg128"/>a doubt that they belonged less to earth
+than heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While, with an imagination thus excited,
+I stood waiting the result, an increased
+gush of light still more awakened my attention;
+and I saw, with an intenseness of
+interest, which made my heart beat aloud,
+one of the corners of the mighty Veil slowly
+raised up. I now felt that the Great
+Secret—whatever it might be—was at
+hand. A vague hope even crossed my mind—so
+wholly had imagination resumed her
+empire—that the splendid promise of
+my dream was on the point of being
+realised!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With surprise, however, and—for a
+moment—with disappointment, I perceived,
+that the massy corner of the Veil
+was but raised sufficiently to allow a female
+figure to emerge from under it,—and
+then fell again, over its mystic splendours,
+as dark as before. By the strong light,
+too, that issued when the drapery was
+lifted, and illuminated the profile of the
+<pb n="129"/><anchor id="Pg129"/>emerging figure, I either saw, or fancied
+that I saw, the same bright features,
+that had already mocked me so often with
+their momentary charm, and seemed destined
+to haunt my heart as unavailingly as
+the fond, vain dream of Immortality itself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Dazzled as I had been by that short
+gush of splendour, and distrusting even my
+senses, when under the influence of a
+fancy so excited, I had hardly time to
+question myself as to the reality of my
+impression, when I heard the sounds of
+light footsteps approaching me through
+the gloom. In a second or two more, the
+figure stopped before me, and, placing the
+end of a riband gently in my hand, said,
+in a tremulous whisper, <q>Follow, and be
+silent.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So sudden and strange was the adventure,
+that, for a moment, I hesitated,—fearful
+lest my eyes should have been deceived
+as to the object they had seen. Casting a
+look towards the Veil, which seemed bursting
+with its luminous secret, I was almost
+<pb n="130"/><anchor id="Pg130"/>doubting to which of the two chances
+I should commit myself, when I felt the
+riband in my hand pulled softly at the
+other extremity. This movement, at
+once, like a touch of magic, decided
+me. Without further deliberation, I
+yielded to the silent summons, and following
+my guide, who was already at
+some distance before me, found myself
+led up the same flight of marble steps,
+by which the Priest had conducted me
+into the Sanctuary. Arrived at their
+summit, I felt the pace of my conductress
+quicken, and, giving one more look to
+the Veiled Shrine, whose glories we left
+burning ineffectually behind us, hastened
+into the gloom, full of confidence
+in the belief, that she, who now held the
+other end of that clue, was one whom I
+could follow devotedly through the world.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="131"/><anchor id="Pg131"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XI.</head>
+
+<p>
+So rapidly was I hurried along by my
+unseen conductress, full of wonder at the
+speed with which she ventured through
+these labyrinths, that I had but little time
+to reflect upon the strangeness of the
+adventure to which I had committed myself.
+My knowledge of the character of
+the priests, as well as the fearful rumours
+that had reached me, of the fate that often
+attended unbelievers in their hands, waked
+a momentary suspicion of treachery in my
+mind. But, when I recalled the face of
+my guide, as I had seen it in the chapel,
+with that divine look, the very memory
+of which brought purity into the
+heart, this suspicion all vanished, and I
+felt shame at having harboured it but an
+instant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the mean while, our course continued
+uninterrupted, through windings more
+<pb n="132"/><anchor id="Pg132"/>capriciously intricate than any that I had
+yet passed, and whose darkness seemed
+never to have been disturbed by a single
+glimmer. My conductress still continued
+at some distance before me, and the clue,
+to which I clung as if it were the thread
+of Destiny herself, was still kept, by her
+speed, at full stretch between us. At
+length, suddenly stopping, she said, in
+a breathless whisper, <q>Seat thyself here,</q>
+and, at the same moment, led me by the
+hand to a sort of low car, in which I lost
+not a moment in placing myself, as desired,
+while the maiden, as promptly, took her
+seat by my side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A sudden click, like the touching of
+a spring, was then heard, and the car,—which,
+as I had felt in entering it, leaned
+half-way over a steep descent,—on being
+loosed from its station, shot down, almost
+perpendicularly, into the darkness,
+with a rapidity which, at first, nearly
+deprived me of breath. The wheels slid
+smoothly and noiselessly in grooves, and
+<pb n="133"/><anchor id="Pg133"/>the impetus, which the car acquired in
+descending, was sufficient, I perceived, to
+carry it up an eminence that succeeded,—from
+the summit of which it again
+rushed down another declivity, even still
+more long and precipitous than the former.
+In this manner we proceeded, by
+alternate falls and rises, till, at length,
+from the last and steepest elevation, the
+car descended upon a level of deep sand,
+where, after running for a few yards, it
+by degrees lost its motion and stopped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, the maiden alighting, again placed
+the riband in my hands,—and again I
+followed her, though with more slowness
+and difficulty than before, as our way led
+up a flight of damp and time-worn steps,
+whose ascent seemed to the weary and
+insecure foot interminable. Perceiving
+with what languor my guide now advanced,
+I was on the point of making
+an effort to assist her progress, when
+the creak of an opening door above,
+and a faint gleam of light which, at the
+<pb n="134"/><anchor id="Pg134"/>same moment, shone upon her figure,
+apprised me that we were arrived within
+reach of sunshine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Joyfully I followed through this opening,
+and, by the dim light, could discern,
+that we were now in the sanctuary of a
+vast, ruined temple,—having entered by
+a passage under the lofty pedestal, upon
+which an image of the idol of the place
+once stood. The first movement of the
+maiden, after replacing the portal under
+the pedestal, was, without even a look
+towards me, to cast herself down on her
+knees, with her hands clasped and uplifted,
+as if for the purpose of thanksgiving
+or prayer. But she was unable to
+sustain herself in this position;—her
+strength could hold out no longer. Overcome
+by agitation and fatigue, she sunk
+senseless upon the pavement.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Bewildered as I was, myself, by the
+events of the night, I stood for some
+minutes looking upon her in a state of
+helplessness and alarm. But, reminded,
+<pb n="135"/><anchor id="Pg135"/>by my own feverish sensations, of the
+reviving effects of the air, I raised her
+gently in my arms, and crossing the corridor
+that surrounded the sanctuary, found
+my way to the outer vestibule of the temple.
+Here, shading her eyes from the sun,
+I placed her, reclining, upon the steps,
+where the cool wind, then blowing freshly
+from the north, might play, with free
+draught, between the pillars over her brow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was, indeed,—I now saw, with certainty,—the
+same beautiful and mysterious
+girl, who had been the cause of
+my descent into that subterranean world,
+and who now, under such strange and
+unaccountable circumstances, was my
+guide back again to the realms of day.
+I looked round, to discover where we
+were, and beheld such a scene of grandeur,
+as—could my eyes have wandered
+to any other object from the pale form
+reclining at my side—might well have
+won them to dwell on its splendid beauties.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now standing, I found, on the
+<pb n="136"/><anchor id="Pg136"/>small island in the centre of Lake Mœris;
+and that sanctuary, where we had emerged
+from darkness, formed part of the ruins of
+a temple, which (as I have since learned)
+was, in the grander days of Memphis, a
+place of pilgrimage for worshippers from
+all parts of Egypt. The fair Lake, itself,
+out of whose waters once rose pavilions,
+palaces, and even lofty pyramids, was still,
+though divested of many of these wonders,
+a scene of interest and splendour such as
+the whole world could not equal. While
+the shores still sparkled with mansions
+and temples, that bore testimony to the
+luxury of a living race, the voice of the
+Past, speaking out of unnumbered ruins,
+whose summits, here and there, rose
+blackly above the wave, told of times long
+fled and generations long swept away,
+before whose giant remains all the glory
+of the present stood humbled. Over the
+southern bank of the Lake hung the dark
+relics of the Labyrinth;—its twelve
+Royal Palaces, like the mansions of the
+<pb n="137"/><anchor id="Pg137"/>Zodiac,—its thundering portals and constellated
+halls, having left nothing behind
+but a few frowning ruins, which, contrasted
+with the soft groves of olive and acacia
+around them, seemed to rebuke the luxuriant
+smiles of nature, and threw a melancholy
+grandeur over the whole scene.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The effects of the air, in re-animating
+the young Priestess, were less speedy
+than I had expected;—her eyes were
+still closed, and she remained pale and
+insensible. Alarmed, I now rested her
+head (which had been, for some time,
+supported by my arm,) against the base
+of a column, with my cloak for its
+pillow, while I hastened to procure
+some water from the Lake. The temple
+stood high, and the descent to the shore
+was precipitous. But, my Epicurean habits
+having but little impaired my activity,
+I soon descended, with the lightness
+of a desert deer, to the bottom. Here,
+plucking from a lofty bean-tree, whose
+flowers stood, shining like gold, above the
+<pb n="138"/><anchor id="Pg138"/>water, one of those large hollowed leaves
+that serve as cups for the Hebes of the
+Nile, I filled it from the Lake, and hurried
+back with the cool draught to the temple.
+It was not without some difficulty and
+delay that I succeeded, in bearing my
+rustic chalice steadily up the steep; more
+than once did an unlucky slip waste its
+contents, and as often did I impatiently
+return to refill it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this time, the young maiden
+was fast recovering her animation and
+consciousness; and, at the moment when
+I appeared above the edge of the steep,
+was just rising from the steps, with her hand
+pressed to her forehead, as if confusedly
+recalling the recollection of what had occurred.
+No sooner did she observe me,
+than a short cry of alarm broke from her
+lips. Looking anxiously round, as though
+she sought for protection, and half audibly
+uttering the words, <q>Where is he?</q> she
+made an effort, as I approached, to retreat
+into the temple.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="139"/><anchor id="Pg139"/>
+
+<p>
+Already, however, I was by her side,
+and taking her hand gently, as she turned
+away, <q>Whom dost thou seek, fair
+Priestess?</q> I asked,—for the first time
+breaking through the silence she had enjoined,
+and in a tone that might have
+re-assured the most timid spirit. But
+my words had no effect in calming her
+apprehension. Trembling, and with her
+eyes still averted towards the Temple,
+she continued in a voice of suppressed
+alarm,—<q>Where <hi rend="italic">can</hi> he be?—that
+venerable Athenian, that philosopher,
+who——</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Here, here,</q> I exclaimed, anxiously
+interrupting her,—<q>behold him still by
+thy side—the same, the very same who
+saw thee steal from under the lighted
+Veils of the Sanctuary, whom thou hast
+guided by a clue through those labyrinths
+below, and who now but waits his
+command from those lips, to devote himself
+through life and death to thy service.</q>
+As I spoke these words, she turned
+<pb n="140"/><anchor id="Pg140"/>slowly round, and looking timidly in my
+face, while her own burned with blushes,
+said, in a tone of doubt and wonder,
+<q>Thou!</q> and hid her eyes in her
+hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I knew not how to interpret a reception
+so unexpected. That some mistake or
+disappointment had occurred was evident;
+but so inexplicable did the whole adventure
+appear, that it was in vain to think
+of unravelling any part of it. Weak and
+agitated, she now tottered to the steps
+of the temple, and there seating herself,
+with her forehead against the cold marble,
+seemed for some moments absorbed in the
+most anxious thought,—while silent and
+watchful I waited her decision, with a
+prophetic feeling, however, that my destiny
+would be henceforth linked with hers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The inward struggle by which she
+was agitated, though violent, was not
+of long continuance. Starting suddenly
+from her seat, with a look of terror
+towards the temple, as if the fear of
+<pb n="141"/><anchor id="Pg141"/>immediate pursuit had alone decided her,
+she pointed eagerly towards the East, and
+exclaimed, <q>To the Nile, without delay!</q>—clasping
+her hands, when she had
+spoken, with the most suppliant fervour,
+as if to soften the abruptness of the mandate
+she had given, and appealing to me
+with a look that would have taught Stoics
+tenderness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lost no time in obeying the welcome
+command. While a thousand wild hopes
+and wishes crowded upon my fancy, at
+the prospect which a voyage, under such
+auspices, presented, I descended rapidly
+to the shore, and hailing one of the numerous
+boats that ply upon the Lake for
+hire, arranged speedily for a passage down
+the canal to the Nile. Having learned,
+too, from the boatmen, a more easy path
+up the rock, I hastened back to the
+Temple for my fair charge; and without
+a word, a look, that could alarm, even
+by its kindness, or disturb that innocent
+confidence which she now placed in me,
+<pb n="142"/><anchor id="Pg142"/>led her down by the winding path to the
+boat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every thing looked smiling around us
+as we embarked. The morning was
+now in its first freshness, and the path
+of the breeze might be traced over the
+Lake, wakening up its waters from their
+sleep of the night. The gay, golden-winged
+birds that haunt these shores,
+were, in every direction, skimming along
+the lake; while, with a graver consciousness
+of beauty, the swan and the pelican
+were seen dressing their white plumage
+in the mirror of its wave. To add to the
+animation of the scene, a sweet tinkling
+of musical instruments came, at intervals,
+on the breeze, from boats at a distance,
+employed thus early in pursuing the fish of
+these waters, that suffer themselves to be
+decoyed into the nets by music.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The vessel which I selected for our
+voyage was one of those small pleasure-boats
+or yachts,—so much in use among
+the luxurious navigators of the
+Nile,—<pb n="143"/><anchor id="Pg143"/>in the centre of which rises a pavilion of
+cedar or cypress wood, gilded gorgeously,
+without, with religious emblems, and fitted
+up, within, for all the purposes of feasting
+and repose. To the door of this pavilion
+I now led my companion, and, after a few
+words of kindness—tempered with as
+much respectful reserve as the deep tenderness
+which I felt would admit of—left
+her in solitude to court that restoring rest,
+which the agitation of her spirits but too
+much required.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For myself, though repose was hardly
+less necessary to me, the ferment in which
+my thoughts had been kept seemed to
+render it hopeless. Throwing myself
+upon the deck, under an awning which
+the sailors had raised for me, I continued,
+for some hours, in a sort of vague
+day-dream,—sometimes passing in review
+the scenes of that subterranean drama,
+and sometimes, with my eyes fixed in
+drowsy vacancy, receiving passively the
+<pb n="144"/><anchor id="Pg144"/>impressions of the bright scenery through
+which we passed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The banks of the canal were then luxuriantly
+wooded. Under the tufts of the light
+and towering palm were seen the orange
+and the citron, interlacing their boughs;
+while, here and there, huge tamarisks
+thickened the shade, and, at the very edge
+of the bank, the willow of Babylon stood
+bending its graceful branches into the water.
+Occasionally, out of the depth of
+these groves, there shone a small temple or
+pleasure-house;—while, now and then, an
+opening in their line of foliage allowed the
+eye to wander over extensive fields, all
+covered with beds of those pale, sweet
+roses, for which this district of Egypt is
+so celebrated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The activity of the morning hour was
+visible every where. Flights of doves
+and lapwings were fluttering among the
+leaves, and the white heron, which had
+roosted all night in some date-tree, now
+<pb n="145"/><anchor id="Pg145"/>stood sunning its wings upon the green
+bank, or floated, like living silver, over
+the flood. The flowers, too, both of
+land and water, looked freshly awakened;—and,
+most of all, the superb lotus, which
+had risen with the sun from the wave, and
+was now holding up her chalice for a full
+draught of his light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such were the scenes that now passed
+before my eyes, and mingled with the
+reveries that floated through my mind, as
+our boat, with its high, capacious sail,
+swept over the flood. Though the occurrences
+of the last few days appeared to
+me one series of wonders, yet by far the
+most miraculous wonder of all was, that
+she, whose first look had sent wild-fire
+into my heart,—whom I had thought of
+ever since with a restlessness of passion,
+that would have dared any thing on earth
+to obtain its object,—was now sleeping sacredly
+in that small pavilion, while guarding
+her, even from myself, I lay calmly at
+its threshold.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="146"/><anchor id="Pg146"/>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, the sun had reached his
+meridian. The busy hum of the morning
+had died gradually away, and all around
+was sleeping in the hot stillness of noon.
+The Nile-goose, folding her splendid
+wings, was lying motionless on the shadow
+of the sycamores in the water. Even the
+nimble lizards upon the bank seemed to
+move more languidly, as the light fell
+upon their gold and azure hues. Overcome
+as I was with watching, and weary
+with thought, it was not long before I
+yielded to the becalming influence of the
+hour. Looking fixedly at the pavilion,—as
+if once more to assure my senses, that
+I was not already in a dream, but that
+the young Egyptian was really there,—I
+felt my eyes close as I looked, and in
+a few minutes sunk into a profound sleep.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="147"/><anchor id="Pg147"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XII.</head>
+
+<p>
+It was by the canal through which we
+now sailed, that, in the more prosperous
+days of Memphis, the commerce of Upper
+Egypt and Nubia was transported to her
+magnificent Lake, and from thence, having
+paid tribute to the queen of cities, was
+poured out again, through the Nile, into
+the ocean. The course of this canal to
+the river was not direct, but ascending in a
+south-easterly direction towards the Saïd;
+and in calms, or with adverse winds,
+the passage was tedious. But as the breeze
+was now blowing freshly from the north,
+there was every prospect of our reaching
+the river before night-fall. Rapidly, too,
+as our galley swept along the flood, its
+motion was so smooth as to be hardly
+felt; and the quiet gurgle of the waters
+underneath, and the drowsy song of the
+<pb n="148"/><anchor id="Pg148"/>boatman at the prow, alone disturbed the
+deep silence that prevailed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun, indeed, had nearly sunk behind
+the Libyan hills, before the sleep,
+in which these sounds lulled me, was
+broken; and the first object, on which my
+eyes rested, in waking, was that fair young
+Priestess,—seated under a porch by which
+the door of the pavilion was shaded, and
+bending intently over a small volume that
+lay unrolled on her lap.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her face was but half turned towards
+me, and as, once or twice, she raised her
+eyes to the warm sky, whose light fell,
+softened through the trellis, over her
+cheek, I found every feeling of reverence,
+with which she had inspired me in the
+chapel, return. There was even a purer
+and holier charm around her countenance,
+thus seen by the natural light of day, than
+in those dim and unhallowed regions below.
+She could now, too, look direct to
+the glorious sky, and that heaven and her
+eyes, so worthy of each other, met.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="149"/><anchor id="Pg149"/>
+
+<p>
+After contemplating her for a few moments,
+with little less than adoration, I
+rose gently from my resting-place, and
+approached the pavilion. But the mere
+movement had startled her from her devotion,
+and, blushing and confused, she
+covered the volume with the folds of her
+robe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the art of winning upon female confidence,
+I had long been schooled; and,
+now that to the lessons of gallantry the
+inspiration of love was added, my ambition
+to please and to interest could hardly, it
+may be supposed, fail of success. I
+soon found, however, how much less
+fluent is the heart than the fancy, and
+how very distinct are the operations of
+making love and feeling it. In the few
+words of greeting now exchanged between
+us, it was evident that the gay, the enterprising
+Epicurean was little less embarrassed
+than the secluded Priestess;—and,
+after one or two ineffectual efforts to
+<pb n="150"/><anchor id="Pg150"/>bring our voices acquainted with each
+other, the eyes of both turned bashfully
+away, and we relapsed into silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this situation—the result of
+timidity on one side, and of a feeling
+altogether new, on the other—we
+were, at length, after an interval of estrangement,
+relieved, by the boatmen
+announcing that the Nile was in sight.
+The countenance of the young Egyptian
+brightened at this intelligence; and the
+smile with which I congratulated her on
+the speed of our voyage was answered
+by another, so full of gratitude, that
+already an instinctive sympathy seemed
+established between us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were now on the point of entering
+that sacred river, of whose sweet waters
+the exile drinks in his dreams,—for a
+draught of whose flood the daughters of
+the Ptolemies, when wedded to foreign
+kings, sighed in the midst of their splendour.
+As our boat, with slackened sail,
+<pb n="151"/><anchor id="Pg151"/>glided into the current, an enquiry from
+the boatmen, whether they should anchor
+for the night in the Nile, first reminded
+me of the ignorance, in which I still remained,
+with respect to either the motive
+or destination of our voyage. Embarrassed
+by their question I directed my eyes
+towards the Priestess, whom I saw waiting
+for my answer with a look of anxiety,
+which this silent reference to her wishes
+at once dispelled. Eagerly unfolding the
+volume with which I had seen her occupied,
+she took from its folds a small leaf
+of papyrus, on which there appeared to
+be some faint lines of drawing, and after
+thoughtfully looking upon it, herself, for a
+moment, placed it, with an agitated hand,
+in mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the mean time, the boatmen had
+taken in their sail, and the yacht drove
+slowly down the river with the current,
+while, by a light which had been kindled at
+sunset on the deck, I stood examining the
+leaf that the Priestess had given me,—her
+<pb n="152"/><anchor id="Pg152"/>dark eyes fixed anxiously on my countenance
+all the while. The lines traced upon
+the papyrus were so faint as to be almost
+invisible, and I was for some time at a loss
+to divine their import. At length, I could
+perceive that they were the outlines, or
+map—traced slightly and unsteadily with
+a Memphian reed—of a part of that mountainous
+ridge by which Upper Egypt is
+bounded to the east, together with the
+names, or rather emblems, of the chief
+towns in the neighbourhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was thither, I could not doubt, that the
+young Priestess wished to pursue her course.
+Without a moment’s delay, therefore, I
+gave orders to the boatmen to set our
+yacht before the wind and ascend the current.
+My command was promptly obeyed:
+the white sail again rose into the region
+of the breeze, and the satisfaction that
+beamed in every feature of the fair Egyptian
+showed that the quickness with which
+I had obeyed her wishes was not unfelt by
+her. The moon had now risen; and
+<pb n="153"/><anchor id="Pg153"/>though the current was against us, the
+Etesian wind of the season blew strongly
+up the river, and we were soon floating
+before it, through the rich plains and
+groves of the Saïd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The love, with which this simple girl
+had inspired me, was—possibly from
+the mystic scenes and situations in which
+I had seen her—not unmingled with a
+tinge of superstitious awe, under the influence
+of which I felt the buoyancy of my
+spirit checked. The few words that had
+passed between us on the subject of our
+route had somewhat loosened this spell;
+and what I wanted of vivacity and confidence
+was more than made up by the
+tone of deep sensibility which love had
+awakened in their place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had not proceeded far before the
+glittering of lights at a distance, and the
+shooting up of fireworks, at intervals, into
+the air, apprised us that we were approaching
+one of those night-fairs, or marts,
+which it is the custom, at this season, to
+<pb n="154"/><anchor id="Pg154"/>hold upon the Nile. To me the scene
+was familiar; but to my young companion
+it was evidently a new world; and the
+mixture of alarm and delight with which
+she gazed, from under her veil, upon the
+busy scene into which we now sailed, gave
+an air of innocence to her beauty, which
+still more heightened its every charm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was one of the widest parts of the
+river; and the whole surface, from one
+bank to the other, was covered with boats.
+Along the banks of a green island, in the
+middle of the stream, lay anchored the
+galleys of the principal traders,—large
+floating bazaars, bearing each the name of
+its owner, emblazoned in letters of flame,
+upon the stern. Over their decks were
+spread out, in gay confusion, the products
+of the loom and needle of Egypt,—rich
+carpets of Memphis, and those variegated
+veils, for which the female embroiderers of
+the Nile are so celebrated, and to which
+the name of Cleopatra lends a traditional
+value. In each of the other galleys was
+<pb n="155"/><anchor id="Pg155"/>exhibited some branch of Egyptian workmanship,—vases
+of the fragrant porcelain
+of On,—cups of that frail crystal, whose
+hues change like those of the pigeon’s
+plumage,—enamelled amulets graven with
+the head of Anubis, and necklaces and
+bracelets of the black beans of Abyssinia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While Commerce thus displayed her
+luxuries in one quarter, in every other
+direction Pleasure, multiplied into her
+thousand shapes, swarmed over the waters.
+Nor was the festivity confined to the river
+only. All along the banks of the island
+and on the shores, lighted up mansions
+were seen through the trees, from which
+sounds of music and merriment came. In
+some of the boats were bands of minstrels,
+who, from time to time, answered each
+other, like echoes, across the wave; and
+the notes of the lyre, the flageolet, and
+the sweet lotus-wood flute, were heard,
+in the pauses of revelry, dying along the
+waters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Meanwhile, from other boats stationed
+<pb n="156"/><anchor id="Pg156"/>in the least lighted places, the workers of
+fire sent forth their wonders into the air.
+Bursting out from time to time, as if in
+the very exuberance of joy, these sallies of
+flame seemed to reach the sky, and there
+breaking into a shower of sparkles, shed
+such a splendour round, as brightened
+even the white Arabian hills,—making
+them shine like the brow of Mount Atlas
+at night, when the fire from his own
+bosom is playing around its snows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The opportunity which this luxurious
+mart afforded us, of providing ourselves
+with other and less remarkable habiliments
+than those in which we had escaped from
+that nether world, was too seasonable not
+to be gladly taken advantage of by both.
+For myself, the strange mystic garb that I
+wore was sufficiently concealed by my
+Grecian mantle, which I had luckily
+thrown round me on the night of my
+watch. But the thin veil of my companion
+was a far less efficient disguise.
+She had, indeed, flung away the golden
+<pb n="157"/><anchor id="Pg157"/>beetles from her hair; but the sacred
+robe of her order was still too visible,
+and the stars of the bandelet shone
+brightly through her veil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Most gladly, therefore, did she avail
+herself of this opportunity of a change;
+and, as she took from a casket—which,
+with the volume I had seen her reading,
+appeared to be her only treasure—a
+small jewel, to exchange for the simple
+garments she had chosen, there fell out,
+at the same time, the very cross of silver,
+which I had seen her kiss, as may be
+remembered, in the monumental chapel,
+and which was afterwards pressed to my
+own lips. This link (for such it appeared
+to my imagination) between us, now revived
+in my heart all the burning feelings
+of that moment;—and, had I not abruptly
+turned away, my agitation would, but too
+plainly, have betrayed itself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The object, for which we had delayed
+in this gay scene, being accomplished, the
+sail was again spread, and we proceeded
+<pb n="158"/><anchor id="Pg158"/>on our course up the river. The sounds
+and the lights we left behind died gradually
+away, and we now floated along
+in moonlight and silence once more.
+Sweet dews, worthy of being called <q>the
+tears of Isis,</q> fell through the air, and
+every plant and flower sent its fragrance
+to meet them. The wind, just strong
+enough to bear us smoothly against the
+current, scarcely stirred the shadow of the
+tamarisks on the water. As the inhabitants
+from all quarters were collected at
+the night-fair, the Nile was more than
+usually still and solitary. Such a silence,
+indeed, prevailed, that, as we glided near
+the shore, we could hear the rustling
+of the acacias, as the chameleons ran up
+their stems. It was, altogether, a night
+such as only the clime of Egypt can boast,
+when every thing lies lulled in that sort of
+bright tranquillity, which, we may imagine,
+shines over the sleep of those happy
+spirits, who are supposed to rest in the
+Valley of the Moon, on their way to
+heaven.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="159"/><anchor id="Pg159"/>
+
+<p>
+By such a light, and at such an hour,
+seated, side by side, on the deck of that
+bark, did we pursue our course up the
+lonely Nile—each a mystery to the
+other—our thoughts, our objects, our
+very names a secret;—separated, too,
+till now, by destinies so different, the
+one, a gay voluptuary of the Garden of
+Athens, the other, a secluded Priestess of
+the Temples of Memphis;—and the only
+relation yet established between us being
+that dangerous one of love, passionate
+love, on one side, and the most feminine
+and confiding dependence on the other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The passing adventure of the night-fair
+had not only dispelled still more
+our mutual reserve, but had supplied
+us with a subject on which we could
+converse without embarrassment. From
+this topic I took care to lead on, without
+interruption, to others,—fearful lest
+our former silence should return, and
+the music of her voice again be lost
+to me. It was, indeed, only by thus
+<pb n="160"/><anchor id="Pg160"/>indirectly unburdening my heart that I
+was enabled to refrain from the full utterance
+of all I thought and felt; and the
+restless rapidity with which I flew from
+subject to subject was but an effort to
+escape from the only one in which my
+heart was interested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>How bright and happy,</q> said I,—pointing
+up to Sothis, the fair Star of the
+Waters, which was just then sparkling
+brilliantly over our heads,—<q>How
+bright and happy this world ought to
+be, if—as your Egyptian sages assert—yon
+pure and beautiful luminary was
+its birth-star!</q> Then, still leaning back,
+and letting my eyes wander over the
+firmament, as if seeking to disengage
+them from the fascination which they
+dreaded—<q>To the study (I said), for
+ages, of skies like this, may the pensive
+and mystic character of your nation be
+traced. That mixture of pride and melancholy
+which naturally arises, at the sight
+of those eternal lights shining out of
+dark<pb n="161"/><anchor id="Pg161"/>ness;—that sublime, but saddened, anticipation
+of a Future, which comes over the
+soul in the silence of such an hour, when,
+though Death seems to reign in the repose
+of earth, there are those beacons of Immortality
+burning in the sky—</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Pausing, as I uttered the word <q>immortality,</q>
+with a sigh to think how little
+my heart echoed to my lips, I looked
+in the face of the maiden, and saw that it
+had lighted up, as I spoke, into a glow of
+holy animation, such as Faith alone gives—such
+as Hope herself wears, when she is
+dreaming of heaven. Touched by the
+contrast, and gazing upon her with mournful
+tenderness, I found my arms half
+opened, to clasp her to my heart, while
+the words died away inaudibly upon my
+lips,—<q>thou, too, beautiful maiden! must
+thou, too, die for ever?</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My self-command, I felt, had nearly
+deserted me. Rising abruptly from my
+seat, I walked to the middle of the deck,
+and stood, for some moments,
+uncon<pb n="162"/><anchor id="Pg162"/>sciously gazing upon one of those fires,
+which,—as is the custom of all who travel
+by night upon the Nile,—our boatmen had
+just kindled, to scare away the crocodiles
+from the vessel. But it was in vain that I
+endeavoured to compose my spirit. Every
+effort I made but more deeply convinced
+me, that, till the mystery which hung round
+that maiden should be solved—till the
+secret, with which my own bosom laboured,
+should be disclosed—it was fruitless to
+attempt even a semblance of tranquillity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My resolution was therefore taken;—to
+lay open, at least, my own heart, as far
+as such a revelation might be risked,
+without startling the timid innocence of
+my companion. Thus resolved, I returned,
+with more composure, to my seat by
+her side, and taking from my bosom the
+small mirror which she had dropped in
+the Temple, and which I had ever since
+worn suspended round my neck, with a
+trembling hand presented it to her view.
+The boatmen had just kindled one of their
+<pb n="163"/><anchor id="Pg163"/>night-fires near us, and its light, as she
+leaned forward towards the mirror, fell
+on her face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The quick blush of surprise with which
+she recognised it to be hers, and her look
+of bashful, yet eager, inquiry, in raising
+her eyes to mine, were appeals to which
+I was not, of course, slow in answering.
+Beginning with the first moment when
+I saw her in the Temple, and passing
+hastily, but with words that burned as
+they went, over the impression which she
+had then left upon my heart and fancy,
+I proceeded to describe the particulars of
+my descent into the pyramid—my surprise
+and adoration at the door of the
+chapel—my encounter with the Trials of
+Initiation, so mysteriously prepared for
+me, and all the various visionary wonders
+I had witnessed in that region, till the
+moment when I had seen her stealing from
+under the Veils to approach me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though, in detailing these events, I had
+said but little of the feelings they had
+<pb n="164"/><anchor id="Pg164"/>awakened in me,—though my lips had
+sent back many a sentence, unuttered,
+there was still enough that could neither
+be subdued or disguised, and which, like
+that light from under the veils of her own
+Isis, glowed through every word that I
+spoke. When I told of the scene in the
+chapel,—of the silent interview which I
+had witnessed between the dead and the
+living,—the maiden leaned down her head
+and wept, as from a heart full of tears.
+It seemed a pleasure to her, however,
+to listen; and, when she looked at me
+again, there was an earnest and affectionate
+cordiality in her eyes, as if the
+knowledge of my having been present at
+that mournful scene had opened a new
+source of sympathy and intelligence between
+us. So neighbouring are the fountains
+of Love and of Sorrow, and so
+imperceptibly do they often mingle their
+streams.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Little, indeed, as I was guided by art
+or design, in my manner and conduct to
+<pb n="165"/><anchor id="Pg165"/>this innocent girl, not all the most experienced
+gallantry of the Garden could
+have dictated a policy half so seductive as
+that which my new master, Love, now
+taught me. The ardour which, shown
+at once, and without reserve, might have
+startled a heart so little prepared for it,
+thus checked and softened by the timidity
+of real love, won its way without
+alarm, and, when most diffident of success,
+most triumphed. Like one whose
+sleep is gradually broken by music, the
+maiden’s heart was awakened without being
+disturbed. She followed the charm,
+unconscious whither it led, nor was aware
+of the flame she had lighted in another’s
+bosom, till she perceived the reflection of
+it glimmering in her own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Impatient as I was to appeal to her
+generosity and sympathy, for a similar
+proof of confidence to that which I had
+just given, the night was now too far
+advanced for me to impose such a task
+upon her. After exchanging a few words,
+<pb n="166"/><anchor id="Pg166"/>in which, though little was said, there
+was a tone and manner that spoke far
+more than language, we took a lingering
+leave of each other for the night, with
+every prospect of still being together in
+our dreams.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="167"/><anchor id="Pg167"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XIII.</head>
+
+<p>
+It was so near the dawn of day when we
+parted, that we again found the sun sinking
+westward when we rejoined each
+other. The smile with which she met me,—so
+frankly cordial,—might have been
+taken for the greeting of a long mellowed
+friendship, did not the blush and the castdown
+eyelid, that followed, give symptoms
+of a feeling newer and less calm. For
+myself, lightened as I was, in some degree,
+by the confession which I had made, I
+was yet too conscious of the new aspect
+thus given to our intercourse, to feel altogether
+unembarrassed at the prospect
+of returning to the theme. It was, therefore,
+willingly we both suffered our attention
+to be diverted, by the variety of
+objects that presented themselves on the
+way, from a subject that both equally
+trembled to approach.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="168"/><anchor id="Pg168"/>
+
+<p>
+The river was now full of life and
+motion. Every moment we met with
+boats descending the current, so independent
+of aid from sail or oar, that the
+sailors sat idly upon the deck as they shot
+along, singing or playing upon their
+double-reeded pipes. Of these boats,
+the greater number came loaded with
+merchandise from Coptos,—some with
+those large emeralds, from the mine in
+the desert, whose colours, it is said, are
+brightest at the full of the moon, and
+some laden with frankincense from the
+acacia-groves near the Red Sea. On the
+decks of others, that had been to the Golden
+Mountains beyond Syene, were heaped
+blocks and fragments of that sweet-smelling
+wood, which the Green Nile of Nubia
+washes down in the season of the floods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our companions up the stream were
+far less numerous. Occasionally a boat,
+returning lightened from the fair of last
+night, with those high sails that catch
+every breeze from over the hills, shot past
+<pb n="169"/><anchor id="Pg169"/>us;—while, now and then, we overtook
+one of those barges full of bees, that at
+this season of the year, are sent to colonise
+the gardens of the south, and take
+advantage of the first flowers after the
+inundation has passed away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By these various objects we were, for
+a short time, enabled to divert the conversation
+from lighting and settling upon the
+one subject, round which it continually
+hovered. But the effort, as might be expected,
+was not long successful. As evening
+advanced, the whole scene became
+more solitary. We less frequently ventured
+to look upon each other, and our intervals
+of silence grew more long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was near sunset, when, in passing a
+small temple on the shore, whose porticoes
+were now full of the evening light,
+we saw, issuing from a thicket of acanthus
+near it, a train of young maids
+linked together in the dance by lotus-stems,
+held at arms’ length between
+them. Their tresses were also wreathed
+<pb n="170"/><anchor id="Pg170"/>with this emblem of the season, and such a
+profusion of the white flowers were twisted
+round their waists and arms, that they
+might have been taken, as they gracefully
+bounded along the bank, for Nymphs of
+the Nile, risen freshly from their gardens
+under the wave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After looking for a few moments at
+this sacred dance, the maid turned away
+her eyes, with a look of pain, as if the remembrances
+it recalled were of no welcome
+nature. This momentary retrospect, this
+glimpse into the past, seemed to offer
+a sort of clue to the secret for which I
+panted;—and, gradually and delicately
+as my impatience would allow, I availed
+myself of it. Her frankness, however,
+saved me the embarrassment of much
+questioning. She even seemed to feel
+that the confidence I sought was due to
+me, and beyond the natural hesitation of
+maidenly modesty, not a shade of reserve
+or evasion appeared.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To attempt to repeat, in her own
+<pb n="171"/><anchor id="Pg171"/>touching words, the simple story which
+she now related to me, would be like endeavouring
+to note down some strain
+of unpremeditated music, with those fugitive
+graces, those felicities of the moment,
+which no art can restore, as they
+first met the ear. From a feeling, too, of
+humility, she had omitted in her narrative
+some particulars relating to herself,
+which I afterwards learned;—while others,
+not less important, she but slightly passed
+over, from a fear of wounding the prejudices
+of her heathen hearer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I shall, therefore, give her story, as the
+outline which she, herself, sketched was
+afterwards filled up by a pious and venerable
+hand,—far, far more worthy than
+mine of being associated with the memory
+of such purity.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="172"/><anchor id="Pg172"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf" level1="STORY OF ALETHE"/>
+<head>STORY OF ALĒTHE.</head>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The mother of this maiden was the
+beautiful Theora of Alexandria, who,
+though a native of that city, was descended
+from Grecian parents. When very young,
+Theora was one of the seven maidens
+selected, to note down the discourses of
+the eloquent Origen, who, at that period,
+presided over the School of Alexandria,
+and was in all the fulness of his fame, both
+among Pagans and Christians. Endowed
+richly with the learning of both creeds,
+he brought the natural light of philosophy
+to elucidate the mysteries of faith, and
+was only proud of his knowledge of the
+wisdom of this world, inasmuch as it ministered
+to the triumph of divine truth.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Though he had courted in vain the
+crown of martyrdom, it was held, throughout
+his life, suspended over his head, and in
+more than one persecution, he had evinced
+his readiness to die for that faith which he
+<pb n="173"/><anchor id="Pg173"/>lived but to testify and adorn. On one of
+these occasions, his tormentors, having habited
+him like an Egyptian priest, placed
+him upon the steps of the Temple of Serapis,
+and commanded that he should, in the
+manner of the Pagan ministers, present
+palm-branches to the multitude who went
+up to the shrine. But the courageous
+Christian disappointed their views. Holding
+forth the branches with an unshrinking
+hand, he cried aloud, <q>Come hither and
+take the branch, not of an Idol Temple,
+but of Christ.</q></q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">So indefatigable was this learned
+Father in his studies, that, while composing
+his Commentary on the Scriptures, he
+was attended by seven scribes or notaries,
+who relieved each other in taking down the
+dictates of his eloquent tongue; while the
+same number of young females, selected
+for the beauty of their penmanship, were
+employed in arranging and transcribing
+the precious leaves.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Among the scribes so selected, was the
+<pb n="174"/><anchor id="Pg174"/>fair young Theora, whose parents, though
+attached to the Pagan worship, were not
+unwilling to profit by the accomplishments
+of their daughter, thus devoted to a task
+which they considered purely mechanical.
+To the maid herself, however, her task
+brought far other feelings and consequences.
+She read anxiously as she wrote,
+and the divine truths, so eloquently illustrated,
+found their way, by degrees, from the
+page to her heart. Deeply, too, as the written
+words affected her, the discourses from
+the lips of the great teacher himself, which
+she had frequent opportunities of hearing,
+sunk still more deeply into her mind.
+There was, at once, a sublimity and gentleness
+in his views of religion, which, to the
+tender hearts and lively imaginations of
+women, never failed to appeal with convincing
+power. Accordingly, the list of
+his female pupils was numerous; and the
+names of Barbara, Juliana, Heraïs, and
+others, bear honourable testimony to his
+influence over that sex.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="175"/><anchor id="Pg175"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">To Theora the feeling, with which his
+discourses inspired her, was like a new soul,—a
+consciousness of spiritual existence,
+unfelt before. By the eloquence of the
+comment she was awakened into admiration
+of the text; and when, by the kindness of
+a Catechumen of the school, who had been
+struck by her innocent zeal, she, for the
+first time, became possessor of a copy of
+the Scriptures, she could not sleep for
+thinking of her sacred treasure. With
+a mixture of pleasure and fear she hid
+it from all eyes, and was like one who had
+received a divine guest under her roof,
+and felt fearful of betraying its divinity to
+the world.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">A heart so awake would have been
+easily secured to the faith, had her opportunities
+of hearing the sacred word continued.
+But circumstances arose to deprive
+her of this advantage. The mild
+Origen, long harassed and thwarted in
+his labours by the tyranny of the Bishop
+of Alexandria, Demetrius, was obliged to
+<pb n="176"/><anchor id="Pg176"/>relinquish his school and fly from Egypt.
+The occupation of the fair scribe was,
+therefore, at an end: her intercourse with
+the followers of the new faith ceased; and
+the growing enthusiasm of her heart gave
+way to more worldly impressions.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Love, among the rest, had its share
+in alienating her thoughts from religion.
+While still very young, she became the
+wife of a Greek adventurer, who had
+come to Egypt as a purchaser of that rich
+tapestry, in which the needles of Persia are
+rivalled by the looms of the Nile. Having
+taken his young bride to Memphis, which
+was still the great mart of this merchandise,
+he there, in the midst of his speculations,
+died,—leaving his widow on the
+point of becoming a mother, while, as yet,
+but in her nineteenth year.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">For single and unprotected females, it
+has been, at all times, a favourite resource,
+to seek admission into the service of some of
+those great temples, which absorb so much
+of the wealth and power of Egypt. In most
+<pb n="177"/><anchor id="Pg177"/>of these institutions there exists an order of
+Priestesses, which, though not hereditary,
+like that of the Priests, is provided for by
+ample endowments, and confers that rank
+and station, with which, in a government
+so theocratic, Religion is sure to invest
+even her humblest handmaids. From the
+general policy of the Sacred College of
+Memphis, it may be concluded, that an
+accomplished female, like Theora, found
+but little difficulty in being chosen one of
+the Priestesses of Isis; and it was in the
+service of the subterranean shrines that
+her ministry chiefly lay.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Here, a month or two after her admission,
+she gave birth to Alethe, who first
+opened her eyes among the unholy pomps
+and specious miracles of this mysterious
+region. Though Theora, as we have
+seen, had been diverted by other feelings
+from her first enthusiasm for the Christian
+faith, she had never wholly forgot the
+impression then made upon her. The
+sacred volume, which the pious
+Catechu<pb n="178"/><anchor id="Pg178"/>men had given her, was still treasured
+with care; and, though she seldom opened
+its pages, there was an idea of sanctity associated
+with it in her memory, and often
+would she sit to look upon it with reverential
+pleasure, recalling the happiness she
+felt when it was first made her own.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The leisure of her new retreat, and
+the lone melancholy of widowhood, led
+her still more frequently to indulge in
+such thoughts, and to recur to those consoling
+truths which she had heard in
+the school of Alexandria. She now began
+to peruse eagerly the sacred book, drinking
+deep of the fountain of which she before
+but tasted, and feeling—what thousands
+of mourners, since her, have felt—that
+Christianity is the true religion of the
+sorrowful.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">This study of her secret hours became
+still more dear to her, from the peril with
+which, at that period, it was attended, and
+the necessity she was under of concealing
+from those around her the precious light
+<pb n="179"/><anchor id="Pg179"/>that had been kindled in her heart. Too
+timid to encounter the fierce persecution,
+which awaited all who were suspected of a
+leaning to Christianity, she continued to
+officiate in the pomps and ceremonies of
+the Temple;—though, often, with such
+remorse of soul, that she would pause, in
+the midst of the rites, and pray inwardly
+to God, that he would forgive this profanation
+of his Spirit.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">In the mean time her daughter, the
+young Alethe, grew up still lovelier
+than herself, and added, every hour, to
+her happiness and her fears. When arrived
+at a sufficient age, she was taught,
+like the other children of the priestesses,
+to take a share in the service and ceremonies
+of the shrines. The duty of some
+of these young servitors was to look after
+the flowers for the altar;—of others, to
+take care that the sacred vases were filled
+every day with fresh water from the Nile.
+The task of some was to preserve, in perfect
+polish, those silver images of the moon
+<pb n="180"/><anchor id="Pg180"/>which the priests carried in processions;
+while others were, as we have seen, employed
+in feeding the consecrated animals,
+and in keeping their plumes and scales
+bright, for the admiring eyes of their worshippers.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The office allotted to Alethe—the
+most honourable of these minor ministries—was
+to wait upon the sacred birds of
+the Moon, to feed them with those eggs
+from the Nile which they loved, and provide
+for their use that purest water, which
+alone these delicate birds will touch.
+This employment was the delight of her
+childish hours; and that ibis, which Alciphron
+(the Epicurean) saw her dance
+round in the Temple, was her favourite,
+of all the sacred flock, and had been daily
+fondled and fed by her from infancy.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Music, as being one of the chief spells
+of this enchanted region, was an accomplishment
+required of all its ministrants;
+and the harp, the lyre, and the sacred
+flute, sounded nowhere so sweetly as that
+<pb n="181"/><anchor id="Pg181"/>through these subterranean gardens. The
+chief object, indeed, in the education of
+the youth of the Temple, was to fit them,
+by every grace of art and nature, to give
+effect to the illusion of those shows and
+phantasms, in which the whole charm and
+secret of Initiation lay.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Among the means employed to support
+the old system of superstition, against
+the infidelity and, still more, the new
+Faith that menaced it, was an increased
+display of splendour and marvels in those
+Mysteries for which Egypt has so long
+been celebrated. Of these ceremonies so
+many imitations had, under various names,
+been multiplied through Europe, that the
+parent superstition ran a risk of being
+eclipsed by its progeny; and, in order
+still to retain their rank of the first Priesthood
+in the world, those of Egypt found
+it necessary to continue still the best impostors.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Accordingly, every contrivance that
+art could devise, or labour execute—every
+<pb n="182"/><anchor id="Pg182"/>resource that the wonderful knowledge of
+the Priests, in pyrotechny, mechanics, and
+dioptrics, could command, was brought
+into action to heighten the effect of their
+Mysteries, and give an air of enchantment
+to every thing connected with them.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The final scene of beatification—the
+Elysium, into which the Initiate was received,—formed,
+of course, the leading
+attraction of these ceremonies; and to
+render it captivating alike to the senses of
+the man of pleasure, and the imagination
+of the spiritualist, was the object to which
+the whole skill and attention of the Sacred
+College were devoted. By the influence
+of the Priests of Memphis over those of
+the other Temples they had succeeded in
+extending their subterranean frontier, both
+to the north and south, so as to include,
+within their ever-lighted Paradise, some
+of the gardens excavated for the use of the
+other Twelve Shrines.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The beauty of the young Alethe, the
+touching sweetness of her voice, and the
+<pb n="183"/><anchor id="Pg183"/>sensibility that breathed throughout her
+every look and movement, rendered her
+a powerful auxiliary in such appeals to the
+imagination. She was, accordingly, from
+her childhood, selected from among her fair
+companions, as the most worthy representative
+of spiritual loveliness, in those pictures
+of Elysium—those scenes of another
+world—by which not only the fancy, but
+the reason, of the excited Aspirants was
+dazzled.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">To the innocent child herself these
+shows were pastime. But to Theora, who
+knew too well the imposition to which they
+were subservient, this profanation of all
+that she loved was a perpetual source of
+horror and remorse. Often would she—when
+Alethe stood smiling before her,
+arrayed, perhaps, as a spirit of the Elysian
+world,—turn away, with a shudder, from
+the happy child, almost fancying that she
+already saw the shadows of sin descending
+over that innocent brow, as she gazed
+on it.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="184"/><anchor id="Pg184"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">As the intellect of the young maid
+became more active and inquiring, the apprehensions
+and difficulties of the mother
+increased. Afraid to communicate her
+own precious secret, lest she should involve
+her child in the dangers that encompassed
+it, she yet felt it to be no less
+a cruelty than a crime to leave her wholly
+immersed in the darkness of Paganism.
+In this dilemma, the only resource that
+remained to her was to select, and disengage
+from the dross that surrounded
+them, those pure particles of truth which
+lie at the bottom of all religions;—those
+feelings, rather than doctrines, which God
+has never left his creatures without, and
+which, in all ages, have furnished, to those
+who sought it, some clue to his glory.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The unity and perfect goodness of the
+Creator; the fall of the human soul into
+corruption; its struggles with the darkness
+of this world, and its final redemption
+and re-ascent to the source of all spirit;—these
+natural solutions of the problem of
+<pb n="185"/><anchor id="Pg185"/>our existence, these elementary grounds
+of all religion and virtue, which Theora
+had heard illustrated by her Christian
+teacher, lay also, she knew, veiled under the
+theology of Egypt; and to impress them,
+in all their abstract purity, upon the mind
+of her susceptible pupil, was, in default of
+more heavenly lights, her sole ambition
+and care.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">It was their habit, after devoting their
+mornings to the service of the Temple, to
+pass their evenings and nights in one of those
+small mansions above ground, allotted to
+some of the most favoured Priestesses,
+in the precincts of the Sacred College.
+Here, out of the reach of those gross superstitions,
+which pursued them, at every
+step, below, she endeavoured to inform,
+as far as she might, the mind of her beloved
+girl; and found it lean as naturally
+and instinctively to truth, as plants that
+have been long shut up in darkness will,
+when light is let in, incline themselves to
+its ray.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="186"/><anchor id="Pg186"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Frequently, as they sat together on the
+terrace at night, contemplating that assembly
+of glorious stars, whose beauty
+first misled mankind into idolatry, she
+would explain to the young listener by
+what gradations it was that the worship,
+thus transferred from the Creator to the
+creature, sunk lower and lower in the
+scale of being, till man, at length, presumed
+to deify man, and by the most
+monstrous of inversions, heaven was made
+the mirror of earth, reflecting all its most
+earthly features.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Even in the Temple itself, the anxious
+mother would endeavour to interpose her
+purer lessons among the idolatrous ceremonies
+in which they were engaged. When
+the favourite ibis of Alethe took its station
+on the shrine, and the young maiden was
+seen approaching, with all the gravity of
+worship, the very bird which she had played
+with but an hour before,—when the acacia-bough,
+which she herself had plucked,
+seemed to acquire a sudden sacredness in
+<pb n="187"/><anchor id="Pg187"/>her eyes, as soon as the priest had breathed
+on it,—on all such occasions Theora,
+though with fear and trembling, would
+venture to suggest to the youthful worshipper
+the distinction that should be
+drawn between the sensible object of adoration,
+and that spiritual, unseen Deity, of
+which it was but the remembrancer or
+type.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">With sorrow, however, she soon discovered
+that, in thus but partially enlightening
+a mind too ardent to be satisfied
+with such glimmerings, she only bewildered
+the heart that she meant to guide,
+and cut down the hope round which its
+faith twined, without substituting any
+other support in its place. As the beauty,
+too, of Alethe began to attract all eyes,
+new fears crowded upon the mother’s
+heart;—fears, in which she was but too
+much justified by the characters of some
+of those around her.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">In this sacred abode, as may easily
+be conceived, morality did not always
+<pb n="188"/><anchor id="Pg188"/>go hand in hand with religion. The hypocritical
+and ambitious Orcus, who was,
+at this period, High Priest of Memphis,
+was a man, in every respect, qualified to
+preside over a system of such splendid
+fraud. He had reached that effective
+time of life, when enough of the warmth
+of youth remains to give animation to the
+counsels of age. But, in his instance,
+youth had only the baser passions to bequeath,
+while age but contributed a more
+refined maturity of mischief. The advantages
+of a faith appealing so wholly to the
+senses, were well understood by him; nor
+was he ignorant that the only way of making
+religion subservient to his own interests
+was by shaping it adroitly to the passions
+of others.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none"><anchor id="corr188"/><corr sic="(quote mark missing)">The</corr> state of misery and remorse in
+which the mind of Theora was kept by
+the scenes, however veiled by hypocrisy,
+which she witnessed around her, became
+at length intolerable. No perils that the
+cause of truth could bring with it would
+<pb n="189"/><anchor id="Pg189"/>be half so dreadful as this endurance
+of sinfulness and deceit. Her child was,
+as yet, pure and innocent;—but, without
+that sentinel of the soul, Religion, how
+long might she continue so?</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">This thought at once decided her;—all
+other fears vanished before it. She
+resolved instantly to lay open to Alethe the
+whole secret of her soul; to make her,
+who was her only hope on earth, the
+sharer of all her hopes in heaven, and
+then fly with her, as soon as possible, from
+this unhallowed place, to the desert—to
+the mountains—to any place, however
+desolate, where God and the consciousness
+of innocence might be with them.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The promptitude with which her
+young pupil caught from her the divine
+truths, was even beyond what she expected.
+It was like the lighting of one torch at
+another,—so prepared was Alethe’s mind
+for the illumination. Amply was the
+mother now repaid for all her misery, by
+this perfect communion of love and faith,
+<pb n="190"/><anchor id="Pg190"/>and by the delight with which she saw
+her beloved child—like the young antelope,
+when first led by her dam to the
+well,—drink thirstily by her side, at the
+source of all life and truth.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">But such happiness was not long to
+last. The anxieties that Theora had
+suffered preyed upon her health. She
+felt her strength daily decline; and the
+thoughts of leaving, alone and unguarded
+in the world, that treasure which she had
+just devoted to heaven, gave her a feeling
+of despair which but hastened the ebb of
+life. Had she put in practice her resolution
+of flying from this place, her child
+might have been now beyond the reach
+of all she dreaded, and in the solitude
+of the wilderness would have found at
+least safety from wrong. But the very
+happiness she had felt in her new task
+diverted her from this project;—and it
+was now too late, for she was already
+dying.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="191"/><anchor id="Pg191"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">She concealed, however, her state from
+the tender and sanguine girl, who, though
+she saw the traces of disease on her mother’s
+cheek, little knew that they were the
+hastening footsteps of death, nor thought
+even of the possibility of losing what was
+so dear to her. Too soon, however,
+the moment of separation arrived; and
+while the anguish and dismay of Alethe
+were in proportion to the security in
+which she had indulged, Theora, too,
+felt, with bitter regret, that she had sacrificed
+to her fond consideration much precious
+time, and that there now remained
+but a few brief and painful moments, for
+the communication of all those wishes and
+instructions, on which the future destiny
+of the young orphan depended.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">She had, indeed, time for little more
+than to place the sacred volume solemnly
+in her hands, to implore that she would,
+at all risks, fly from this unholy place,
+and, pointing in the direction of the mountains
+of the Saïd, to name, with her last
+<pb n="192"/><anchor id="Pg192"/>breath, the holy man, to whom, under
+heaven, she trusted for the protection and
+salvation of her child.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The first violence of feeling to which
+Alethe gave way was succeeded by a fixed
+and tearless grief, which rendered her insensible,
+for some time, to the dangers of
+her situation. Her only comfort was in
+visiting that monumental chapel, where the
+beautiful remains of Theora lay. There,
+night after night, in contemplation of
+those placid features, and in prayers for
+the peace of the departed spirit, did she
+pass her lonely, and—sad as they were—happiest
+hours. Though the mystic
+emblems that decorated that chapel were
+but ill suited to the slumber of a Christian
+saint, there was one among them, the Cross,
+which, by a remarkable coincidence, is an
+emblem common alike to the Gentile and
+the Christian,—being, to the former, a
+shadowy type of that immortality, of
+which, to the latter, it is a substantial and
+assuring pledge.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="193"/><anchor id="Pg193"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Nightly, upon this cross, which she
+had often seen her lost mother kiss, did she
+breathe forth a solemn and heartfelt vow,
+never to abandon the faith which that
+departed spirit had bequeathed to her.
+To such enthusiasm, indeed, did her heart
+at such moments rise, that, but for the
+last injunctions from those pallid lips, she
+would, at once, have avowed her perilous
+secret, and spoken out the words, <q>I
+am a Christian,</q> among those benighted
+shrines!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">But the will of her, to whom she owed
+more than life, was to be obeyed. To
+escape from this haunt of superstition
+must now, she felt, be her first object;
+and, in devising the means of effecting it,
+her mind, day and night, was employed.
+It was with a loathing not to be concealed
+she now found herself compelled
+to resume her idolatrous services at the
+shrine. To some of the offices of Theora
+she succeeded, as is the custom, by inheritance;
+and in the performance of
+these<pb n="194"/><anchor id="Pg194"/>—sanctified as they were in her eyes by
+the pure spirit she had seen engaged in
+them—there was a sort of melancholy
+pleasure in which her sorrow found relief.
+But the part she was again forced
+to take, in the scenic shows of the Mysteries,
+brought with it a sense of wrong
+and degradation which she could no
+longer bear.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">She had already formed, in her own
+mind, a plan of escape, in which her
+knowledge of all the windings of this
+subterranean realm gave her confidence,
+when the reception of Alciphron, as an
+Initiate, took place.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">From the first moment of the landing
+of that philosopher at Alexandria, he had
+<anchor id="corr194"/><corr sic="decome">become</corr> an object of suspicion and watchfulness
+to the inquisitorial Orcus, whom
+philosophy, in any shape, naturally alarmed,
+but to whom the sect over which the
+young Athenian presided was particularly
+obnoxious. The accomplishments of
+Alciphron, his popularity, wherever he
+<pb n="195"/><anchor id="Pg195"/>went, and the freedom with which he
+indulged his wit at the expense of religion,
+was all faithfully reported to the
+High Priest by his spies, and stirred up
+within him no kindly feelings towards
+the stranger. In dealing with an infidel,
+such a personage as Orcus could know
+no alternative but that of either converting
+or destroying him; and though his spite,
+as a man, would have been more gratified
+by the latter proceeding, his pride, as
+a priest, led him to prefer the triumph of
+the former.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">The first descent of the Epicurean into
+the pyramid was speedily known, and the
+alarm immediately given to the Priests
+below. As soon as it was discovered that
+the young philosopher of Athens was the
+intruder, and that he still continued to
+linger round the pyramid, looking often
+and wistfully towards the portal, it was
+concluded that his curiosity would impel
+him to try a second descent; and Orcus,
+blessing the good chance which had thus
+<pb n="196"/><anchor id="Pg196"/>brought the wild bird to his net, determined
+not to allow an opportunity so
+precious to be wasted.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Instantly, the whole of that wonderful
+machinery, by which the phantasms and
+illusions of Initiation are produced, were
+put in active preparation throughout that
+subterranean realm; and the increased
+stir and watchfulness excited among
+its inmates, by this more than ordinary
+display of all the resources of priestcraft,
+rendered the accomplishment of Alethe’s
+design, at such a moment, peculiarly difficult.
+Wholly ignorant of the share
+which had fallen to herself in attracting
+the young philosopher down to this region,
+she but heard of him vaguely, as
+the Chief of a great Grecian sect, who had
+been led, by either curiosity or accident,
+to expose himself to the first trials of Initiation,
+and whom the priests, she saw,
+were endeavouring to ensnare in their
+toils, by every art and skill with which
+their science of darkness had gifted them.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="197"/><anchor id="Pg197"/>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">To her mind, the image of a philosopher,
+such as Alciphron had been represented
+to her, came associated with
+ideas of age and reverence; and, more
+than once, the possibility of his being
+made instrumental to her deliverance
+flashed a hope across her heart in which
+she could not help indulging. Often had
+she been told by Theora of the many
+Gentile sages, who had laid their wisdom
+down humbly at the foot of the Cross;
+and though this Initiate, she feared, could
+hardly be among the number, yet the rumours
+which she had gathered from the
+servants of the Temple, of his undisguised
+contempt for the errors of heathenism,
+led her to hope she might find
+tolerance, if not sympathy, in her appeal
+to him.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Nor was it solely with a view to her
+own chance of deliverance that she thus
+connected him in her thoughts with the
+plan which she meditated. The look of
+<pb n="198"/><anchor id="Pg198"/>proud and self-gratulating malice, with
+which the High Priest had mentioned
+this <q>infidel,</q> as he styled him, when instructing
+her in the scene she was to
+enact before the philosopher in the valley,
+but too plainly informed her of the destiny
+that hung over him. She knew how
+many were the hapless candidates for
+Initiation, who had been doomed to a
+durance worse than that of the grave, for
+but a word, a whisper breathed against
+the sacred absurdities which they witnessed;
+and it was evident to her that
+the venerable Greek (for such her fancy
+represented Alciphron) was no less interested
+in escaping from this region than
+herself.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Her own resolution was, at all events,
+fixed. That visionary scene, in which she
+had appeared before Alciphron,—little
+knowing how ardent were the heart and
+imagination, over which her beauty, at that
+moment, shed its whole influence,—was,
+she solemnly resolved, the very last
+un<pb n="199"/><anchor id="Pg199"/>holy service, that superstition or imposture
+should ever command of her.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">On the following night the Aspirant
+was to watch in the Great Temple of
+Isis. Such an opportunity of approaching
+and addressing him might never come
+again. Should he, from compassion for
+her situation, or a sense of the danger of
+his own, consent to lend his aid to her
+flight, most gladly would she accept it,—assured
+that no danger or treachery she
+might risk could be half so dreadful as
+those she left behind. Should he, on
+the contrary, refuse, her determination
+was equally fixed—to trust to that God,
+who watches over the innocent, and go
+forth alone.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">To reach the island in Lake Mœris
+was her first object, and there occurred
+luckily, at this time, a mode of accomplishing
+it, by which the difficulty and
+dangers of the attempt would be, in a
+great degree, diminished. The day of
+<pb n="200"/><anchor id="Pg200"/>the annual visitation of the High Priest
+to the Place of Weeping—as that island
+in the centre of the lake is called—was
+now fast approaching; and Alethe well
+knew that the self-moving car, by which
+the High Priest and one of the Hierophants
+are conveyed to the chambers
+under the lake, stood waiting in readiness.
+By availing herself of this expedient, she
+would gain the double advantage both
+of facilitating her own flight and retarding
+the speed of her pursuers.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Having paid a last visit to the tomb of
+her beloved mother, and wept there, long
+and passionately, till her heart almost
+failed in the struggle,—having paused, too,
+to give a kiss to her favourite ibis, which,
+though too much a Christian to worship,
+she was still child enough to love,—with
+a trembling step she went early to
+the Sanctuary, and hid herself in one
+of the recesses of the Shrine. Her
+intention was to steal out from thence to
+Alciphron, while it was yet dark, and
+be<pb n="201"/><anchor id="Pg201"/>fore the illumination of the great Statue
+behind the Veils had begun. But her
+fears delayed her till it was almost too
+late;—already was the image lighted up,
+and still she remained trembling in her
+hiding place.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">In a few minutes more the mighty Veils
+would have been withdrawn, and the
+glories of that scene of enchantment laid
+open,—when, at length, summoning up
+courage, and taking advantage of a momentary
+absence of those employed in the
+preparations of this splendid mockery, she
+stole from under the Veil and found her
+way, through the gloom, to the Epicurean.
+There was then no time for
+explanation;—she had but to trust to
+the simple words, <q>Follow, and be silent;</q>
+and the implicit readiness with which she
+found them obeyed filled her with no less
+surprise than the philosopher himself felt
+in hearing them.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>In a second or two they were on their
+way through the subterranean windings,
+<pb n="202"/><anchor id="Pg202"/>leaving the ministers of Isis to waste their
+splendours on vacancy, through a long
+series of miracles and visions which they
+now exhibited,—unconscious that he,
+whom they took such pains to dazzle,
+was already, under the guidance of the
+young Christian, removed beyond the
+reach of their spells.</q>
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="203"/><anchor id="Pg203"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XIV.</head>
+
+<p>
+Such was the story, of which this innocent
+girl gave me, in her own touching language,
+the outline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun was just rising as she finished
+her narrative. Fearful of encountering
+the expression of those feelings with which,
+she could not but observe, I was affected
+by her recital, scarcely had she concluded
+the last sentence, when, rising abruptly
+from her seat, she hurried into the pavilion,
+leaving me with the words already
+crowding for utterance to my lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oppressed by the various emotions, thus
+sent back upon my heart, I lay down
+on the deck in a state of agitation, that
+defied even the most distant approaches
+of sleep. While every word she had
+<pb n="204"/><anchor id="Pg204"/>uttered, every feeling she expressed, but
+ministered new fuel to that flame within
+me, to describe which, passion is too weak
+a word, there was also much of her recital
+that disheartened, that alarmed me. To
+find a Christian thus under the garb of
+a Memphian Priestess, was a discovery
+that, had my heart been less deeply interested,
+would but have more powerfully
+stimulated my imagination and pride.
+But, when I recollected the austerity of
+the faith she had embraced,—the tender
+and sacred tie, associated with it in her
+memory, and the devotion of woman’s
+heart to objects thus consecrated,—her
+very perfections but widened the distance
+between us, and all that most kindled my
+passion at the same time chilled my hopes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Were we left to each other, as on this
+silent river, in this undisturbed communion
+of thoughts and feelings, I knew too well,
+I thought, both her sex’s nature and my
+own, to feel a doubt that love would
+ultimately triumph. But the severity of
+<pb n="205"/><anchor id="Pg205"/>the guardianship to which I must resign
+her,—some monk of the desert, some
+stern Solitary,—the influence such a
+monitor would gain over her mind, and
+the horror with which, ere long, she would
+be taught to regard the reprobate infidel
+on whom she now smiled,—in all this
+prospect I saw nothing but despair. After
+a few short hours, my happiness would be
+at an end, and such a dark chasm open
+between our fates, as must sever them, far
+as earth is from heaven, asunder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was true, she was now wholly in my
+power. I feared no witnesses but those of
+earth, and the solitude of the desert was at
+hand. But though I acknowledged not a
+heaven, I worshipped her who was, to me,
+its type and substitute. If, at any moment,
+a single thought of wrong or deceit,
+towards a creature so sacred, arose in my
+mind, one look from her innocent eyes
+averted the sacrilege. Even passion itself
+felt a holy fear in her
+presence,—<pb n="206"/><anchor id="Pg206"/>like the flame trembling in the breeze of
+the sanctuary,—and Love, pure Love,
+stood in place of Religion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As long as I knew not her story, I might
+indulge, at least, in dreams of the future.
+But, now—what hope, what prospect remained?
+My sole chance of happiness lay
+in the feeble hope of beguiling away her
+thoughts from the plan which she meditated;
+of weaning her, by persuasion,
+from that austere faith, which I had before
+hated and now feared, and of—attaching
+her, perhaps, alone and unlinked as she
+was in the world, to my own fortunes for
+ever!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the agitation of these thoughts, I
+had started from my resting-place, and
+continued to pace up and down, under a
+burning sun, till, exhausted both by thought
+and feeling, I sunk down, amid its blaze,
+into a sleep, which, to my fevered brain,
+seemed a sleep of fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On awaking, I found the veil of Alethe
+<pb n="207"/><anchor id="Pg207"/>laid carefully over my brow, while she,
+herself, sat near me, under the shadow of
+the sail, looking anxiously at that leaf,
+which her mother had given her, and
+apparently employed in comparing its outlines
+with the course of the river and
+the forms of the rocky hills by which
+we passed. She looked pale and troubled,
+and rose eagerly to meet me, as if she
+had long and impatiently waited for my
+waking.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her heart, it was plain, had been disturbed
+from its security, and was beginning
+to take alarm at its own feelings.
+But, though vaguely conscious of the peril
+to which she was exposed, her reliance, as
+is usually the case, increased with her danger,
+and on me, far more than on herself,
+did she depend for saving her from it.
+To reach, as soon as possible, her asylum
+in the desert, was now the urgent object
+of her entreaties and wishes; and the self-reproach
+she expressed at having permitted
+her thoughts to be diverted, for a single
+<pb n="208"/><anchor id="Pg208"/>moment, from this sacred purpose, not only
+revealed the truth, that she had forgotten
+it, but betrayed even a glimmering consciousness
+of the cause.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her sleep, she said, had been broken
+by ill-omened dreams. Every moment
+the shade of her mother had stood before
+her, rebuking her, with mournful
+looks, for her delay, and pointing, as she
+had done in death, to the eastern hills.
+Bursting into tears at this accusing recollection,
+she hastily placed the leaf, which
+she had been examining, in my hands, and
+implored that I would ascertain, without a
+moment’s delay, what portion of our voyage
+was still unperformed, and in what space
+of time we might hope to accomplish it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had, still less than herself, taken note
+of either place or distance; and, had we
+been left to glide on in this dream of happiness,
+should never have thought of pausing
+to ask where it would end. But such
+confidence, I felt, was too sacred to be
+deceived. Reluctant as I was, naturally, to
+<pb n="209"/><anchor id="Pg209"/>enter on an inquiry, which might so soon
+dissipate even my last hope, her wish was
+sufficient to supersede even the selfishness
+of love, and on the instant I proceeded
+to obey her will.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is, on the eastern bank of the
+Nile, to the north of Antinöe, a high and
+steep rock, impending over the flood,
+which for ages, from a prodigy connected
+with it, has borne the name of the Mountain
+of the Birds. Yearly, it is said, at
+a certain season and hour, large flocks of
+birds assemble in the ravine, of which this
+rocky mountain forms one of the sides,
+and are there observed to go through the
+mysterious ceremony of inserting each its
+beak into a particular cleft of the rock,
+till the cleft closes upon one of their number,
+when the rest, taking wing, leave
+the selected victim to die.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the ravine where this charm—for
+such the multitude consider it—is
+worked, there ran, in ancient times, a
+canal from the Nile, to some great and
+<pb n="210"/><anchor id="Pg210"/>forgotten city that now lies buried in the
+desert. To a short distance from the
+river this canal still exists, but, soon after
+having passed through the defile, its
+scanty waters disappear altogether, and
+are lost under the sands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in the neighbourhood of this
+place, as I could collect from the delineations
+on the leaf,—where a flight of
+birds represented the name of the mountain,—that
+the dwelling of the Solitary,
+to whom Alethe was bequeathed, lay.
+Imperfect as was my knowledge of the
+geography of Egypt, it at once struck me,
+that we had long since left this mountain
+behind; and, on inquiring of our boatmen,
+I found my conjecture confirmed.
+We had, indeed, passed it, as appeared,
+on the preceding night; and, as the wind
+had, ever since, blown strongly from the
+north, and the sun was already declining
+towards the horizon, we must now be, at
+least, an ordinary day’s sail to the southward
+of the spot.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="211"/><anchor id="Pg211"/>
+
+<p>
+At this discovery, I own, my heart
+felt a joy which I could with difficulty
+conceal. It seemed to me as if fortune
+was conspiring with love, and, by thus
+delaying the moment of our separation,
+afforded me at least a chance of happiness.
+Her look, too, and manner, when
+informed of our mistake, rather encouraged
+than chilled this secret hope. In
+the first moment of astonishment, her
+eyes opened upon me with a suddenness
+of splendour, under which I felt my
+own wink, as if lightning had crossed
+them. But she again, as suddenly, let
+their lids fall, and, after a quiver of her
+lip, which showed the conflict of feeling
+within, crossed her arms upon her bosom,
+and looked silently down upon the deck;—her
+whole countenance sinking into an
+expression, sad, but resigned, as if she felt,
+with me, that fate was on the side of wrong,
+and saw Love already stealing between
+her soul and heaven.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not slow in availing myself of
+<pb n="212"/><anchor id="Pg212"/>what I fancied to be the irresolution of
+her mind. But, fearful of exciting alarm
+by any appeal to tenderer feelings, I
+but addressed myself to her imagination,
+and to that love of novelty, which is
+for ever fresh in the youthful breast.
+We were now approaching that region of
+wonders, Thebes. <q>In a day or two,</q>
+said I, <q>we shall see, towering above the
+waters, the colossal Avenue of Sphinxes,
+and the bright Obelisks of the Sun.
+We shall visit the plain of Memnon, and
+those mighty statues, that fling their shadows
+at sunrise over the Libyan hills.
+We shall hear the image of the Son of
+the Morning answering to the first touch
+of light. From thence, in a few hours,
+a breeze like this will transport us to
+those sunny islands near the cataracts;
+there, to wander, among the sacred palm-groves
+of Philæ, or sit, at noon-tide hour,
+in those cool alcoves, which the waterfall
+of Syene shadows under its arch. Oh,
+who, with such scenes of loveliness within
+<pb n="213"/><anchor id="Pg213"/>reach, would turn coldly away to the bleak
+desert, and leave this fair world, with all
+its enchantments, shining behind them,
+unseen and unenjoyed? At least,</q>—I
+added, tenderly taking her by the hand,—<q>at
+least, let a few more days be
+stolen from the dreary fate to which thou
+hast devoted thyself, and then——</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had heard but the last few words;—the
+rest had been lost upon her. Startled by
+the tone of tenderness, into which, in spite
+of all my resolves, my voice had softened,
+she looked for an instant in my face, with
+passionate earnestness;—then, dropping
+upon her knees with her clasped hands
+upraised, exclaimed—<q>Tempt me not,
+in the name of God I implore thee,
+tempt me not to swerve from my sacred
+duty. Oh, take me instantly to that desert
+mountain, and I will bless thee for
+ever.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This appeal, I felt, <hi rend="italic">could not</hi> be resisted,—though
+my heart were to break for it.
+Having silently expressed my assent to
+<pb n="214"/><anchor id="Pg214"/>her prayer, by a pressure of her hand as
+I raised her from the deck, I hastened,
+as we were still in full career for the
+south, to give orders that our sail should
+be instantly lowered, and not a moment
+lost in retracing our course.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In proceeding, however, to give these
+directions, it, for the first time, occurred
+to me, that, as I had hired this yacht in
+the neighbourhood of Memphis, where it
+was probable that the flight of the young
+fugitive would be most vigilantly tracked,
+we should act imprudently in betraying
+to the boatmen the place of her retreat;—and
+the present seemed the most favourable
+opportunity of evading such a
+danger. Desiring, therefore, that we
+should be landed at a small village on
+the shore, under pretence of paying a
+visit to some shrine in the neighbourhood,
+I there dismissed our barge, and was
+relieved from fear of further observation,
+by seeing it again set sail, and resume its
+course fleetly up the current.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="215"/><anchor id="Pg215"/>
+
+<p>
+From the boats of all descriptions
+that lay idle beside the bank, I now selected
+one, which, in every respect, suited
+my purpose,—being, in its shape and accommodations,
+a miniature of our former
+vessel, but so small and light as to be
+manageable by myself alone, and, with the
+advantage of the current, requiring little
+more than a hand to steer it. This boat
+I succeeded, without much difficulty, in
+purchasing, and, after a short delay, we
+were again afloat down the current;—the
+sun just then sinking, in conscious glory,
+over his own golden shrines in the Libyan
+waste.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The evening was more calm and lovely
+than any that yet had smiled upon
+our voyage; and, as we left the bank,
+there came soothingly over our ears a
+strain of sweet, rustic melody from the
+shore. It was the voice of a young Nubian
+girl, whom we saw kneeling on the bank
+before an acacia, and singing, while her
+companions stood round, the wild song
+<pb n="216"/><anchor id="Pg216"/>of invocation, which, in her country, they
+address to that enchanted tree:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">“Oh! Abyssinian tree,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">We pray, we pray, to thee;</l>
+<l>By the glow of thy golden fruit,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">And the violet hue of thy flower,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">And the greeting mute</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">Of thy bough’s salute</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">To the stranger who seeks thy bower.<note place="foot">See an account of this sensitive tree, which
+bends down its branches to those who approach it,
+in M. Jomard’s Description of Syene and the Cataracts.</note></l>
+</lg>
+
+<lg>
+<head rend="text-align: left">              II.</head>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">“Oh! Abyssinian tree,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">How the traveller blesses thee,</l>
+<l>When the night no moon allows,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">And the sun-set hour is near,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">And thou bend’st thy boughs</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">To kiss his brows,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 2">Saying, ‘Come rest thee here.’</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">Oh! Abyssinian tree,</l>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">Thus bow thy head to me!”</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="217"/><anchor id="Pg217"/>
+
+<p>
+In the burden of this song the companions
+of the young Nubian joined; and we heard
+the words, <q>Oh! Abyssinian tree,</q> dying
+away on the breeze, long after the whole
+group had been lost to our eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Whether, in this new arrangement which
+I had made for our voyage, any motive,
+besides those which I professed, had a
+share, I can scarcely, even myself, so
+bewildered were my feelings, determine.
+But no sooner had the current borne
+us away from all human dwellings, and
+we were alone on the waters, with not
+a soul near, than I felt how closely such
+solitude draws hearts together, and how
+much more we seemed to belong to each
+other, than when there were eyes around.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The same feeling, but without the
+same sense of its danger, was manifest in
+every look and word of Alethe. The
+consciousness of the one great effort
+she had made appeared to have satisfied
+her heart on the score of duty,—while
+the devotedness with which she saw I
+<pb n="218"/><anchor id="Pg218"/>attended to her every wish, was felt with
+all that gratitude which, in woman, is
+the day-spring of love. She was, therefore,
+happy, innocently happy; and the
+confiding, and even affectionate, unreserve
+of her manner, while it rendered my trust
+more sacred, made it also far more difficult.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was only, however, on subjects unconnected
+with our situation or fate, that
+she yielded to such interchange of
+thought, or that her voice ventured to
+answer mine. The moment I alluded to
+the destiny that awaited us, all her cheerfulness
+fled, and she became saddened and
+silent. When I described to her the
+beauty of my own native land—its founts
+of inspiration and fields of glory—her
+eyes sparkled with sympathy, and sometimes
+even softened into fondness. But
+when I ventured to whisper, that, in that
+glorious country, a life full of love and
+liberty awaited her; when I proceeded
+to contrast the adoration and bliss she
+<pb n="219"/><anchor id="Pg219"/>might command, with the gloomy austerities
+of the life to which she was hastening,—it
+was like the coming of a sudden cloud
+over a summer sky. Her head sunk, as
+she listened;—I waited in vain for an
+answer; and when, half playfully reproaching
+her for this silence, I stooped to take
+her hand, I could feel the warm tears fast
+falling over it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But even this—little hope as it held
+out—was happiness. Though it foreboded
+that I should lose her, it also whispered
+that I was loved. Like that lake, in
+the Land of Roses<note place="foot">The province of Arsinoë, now Fioum.</note>, whose waters are
+half sweet, half bitter, I felt my fate to be
+a compound of bliss and pain,—but the
+very pain well worth all ordinary bliss.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And thus did the hours of that night
+pass along; while every moment shortened
+our happy dream, and the current seemed
+to flow with a swifter pace than any that
+<pb n="220"/><anchor id="Pg220"/>ever yet hurried to the sea. Not a feature
+of the whole scene but is, at this
+moment, freshly in my memory;—the
+broken star-light on the water;—the
+rippling sound of the boat, as, without
+oar or sail, it went, like a thing of enchantment,
+down the stream;—the scented
+fire, burning beside us on the deck, and,
+oh, that face, on which its light fell, still
+revealing, as it turned, some new charm,
+some blush or look, more beautiful than
+the last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often, while I sat gazing, forgetful of
+all else in this world, our boat, left wholly
+to itself, would drive from its course, and,
+bearing us to the bank, get entangled in
+the water-flowers, or be caught in some
+eddy, ere I perceived where we were.
+Once, too, when the rustling of my oar
+among the flowers had startled away from
+the bank some wild antelopes, that had
+stolen, at that still hour, to drink of the
+Nile, what an emblem I thought it of the
+<pb n="221"/><anchor id="Pg221"/>young heart beside me,—tasting, for the
+first time, of hope and love, and so soon,
+alas, to be scared from their sweetness
+for ever!
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="222"/><anchor id="Pg222"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XV.</head>
+
+<p>
+The night was now far advanced;—the
+bend of our course towards the left, and
+the closing in of the eastern hills upon the
+river, gave warning of our approach to
+the hermit’s dwelling. Every minute now
+seemed like the last of existence; and I
+felt a sinking of despair at my heart,
+which would have been intolerable, had
+not a resolution that suddenly, and as if
+by inspiration, occurred to me, presented
+a glimpse of hope which, in some degree,
+calmed my feelings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Much as I had, all my life, despised hypocrisy,—the
+very sect I had embraced
+being chiefly recommended to me by the
+war which they waged on the cant of all
+others,—it was, nevertheless, in hypocrisy
+that I now scrupled not to take refuge
+<pb n="223"/><anchor id="Pg223"/>from, what I dreaded more than shame or
+death, my separation from Alethe. In
+my despair, I adopted the humiliating
+plan—deeply humiliating as I felt it to
+be, even amid the joy with which I welcomed
+it—of offering myself to this
+hermit, as a convert to his faith, and thus
+becoming the fellow-disciple of Alethe
+under his care!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the moment I resolved upon
+this plan, my spirit felt lightened. Though
+having fully before my eyes the labyrinth
+of imposture into which it would lead me,
+I thought of nothing but the chance of our
+being still together;—in this hope, all
+pride, all philosophy was forgotten, and
+every thing seemed tolerable, but the prospect
+of losing her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus resolved, it was with somewhat
+less reluctant feelings, that I now undertook,
+at the anxious desire of Alethe, to
+ascertain the site of that well-known mountain,
+in the neighbourhood of which the
+dwelling of the anchoret lay. We had
+<pb n="224"/><anchor id="Pg224"/>already passed one or two stupendous
+rocks, which stood, detached, like fortresses,
+over the river’s brink, and which,
+in some degree, corresponded with the
+description on the leaf. So little was
+there of life now stirring along the
+shores, that I had begun almost to despair
+of any assistance from inquiry, when, on
+looking to the western bank, I saw a boatman
+among the sedges, towing his small
+boat, with some difficulty, up the current.
+Hailing him, as we passed, I asked,
+<q>Where stands the Mountain of the
+Birds?</q>—and he had hardly time to
+answer, pointing above our heads, <q>There,</q>
+when we perceived that we were just then
+entering into the shadow, which this
+mighty rock flings across the whole of the
+flood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a few moments we had reached
+the mouth of the ravine, of which the
+Mountain of the Birds forms one of
+the sides, and through which the scanty
+canal from the Nile flows. At the sight
+<pb n="225"/><anchor id="Pg225"/>of this chasm, in some of whose gloomy
+recesses—if we had rightly interpreted
+the leaf—the dwelling of the Solitary lay,
+our voices, at once, sunk into a low whisper,
+while Alethe looked round upon me with
+a superstitious fearfulness, as if doubtful
+whether I had not already disappeared from
+her side. A quick movement, however,
+of her hand towards the ravine, told too
+plainly that her purpose was still unchanged.
+With my oars, therefore, checking
+the career of our boat, I succeeded,
+after no small exertion, in turning it out
+of the current of the river, and steering
+into this bleak and stagnant canal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our transition from life and bloom
+to the very depth of desolation, was immediate.
+While the water and one side
+of the ravine lay buried in shadow, the
+white, skeleton-like crags of the other
+stood aloft in the pale glare of moonlight.
+The sluggish stream through which we
+moved, yielded sullenly to the oar, and
+the shriek of a few water-birds, which we
+<pb n="226"/><anchor id="Pg226"/>had roused from their fastnesses, was succeeded
+by a silence, so dead and awful,
+that our lips seemed afraid to disturb it by
+a breath; and half-whispered exclamations,
+<q>How dreary!</q>—<q>How dismal!</q>—were
+almost the only words exchanged
+between us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had proceeded for some time
+through this gloomy defile, when, at a
+distance before us, among the rocks on
+which the moonlight fell, we perceived,
+upon a ledge but little elevated above the
+canal, a small hut or cave, which, from a
+tree or two planted around it, had some
+appearance of being the abode of a human
+being. <q>This, then,</q> thought I, <q>is
+the home to which Alethe is destined!</q>—A
+chill of despair came again over my
+heart, and the oars, as I gazed, lay motionless
+in my hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found Alethe, too, whose eyes had
+caught the same object, drawing closer to
+my side than she had yet ventured. Laying
+her hand agitatedly upon mine,
+<pb n="227"/><anchor id="Pg227"/><q>We must here,</q> she said, <q>part for
+ever.</q> I turned to her, as she spoke:
+there was a tenderness, a despondency
+in her countenance, that at once saddened
+and inflamed my soul. <q>Part!</q>
+I exclaimed passionately,—<q>No!—the
+same God shall receive us both. Thy
+faith, Alethe, shall, from this hour, be
+mine, and I will live and die in this desert
+with thee!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her surprise, her delight, at these
+words, was like a momentary delirium.
+The wild, anxious smile, with which she
+looked into my face, as if to ascertain
+whether she had, indeed, heard my words
+aright, bespoke a happiness too much for
+reason to bear. At length the fulness of her
+heart found relief in tears; and, murmuring
+forth an incoherent blessing on my
+name, she let her head fall languidly and
+powerlessly on my arm. The light from
+our boat-fire shone upon her face. I saw
+her eyes, which she had closed for a moment,
+again opening upon me with the
+<pb n="228"/><anchor id="Pg228"/>same tenderness, and—merciful Providence,
+how I remember that moment!—was
+on the point of bending down my lips
+towards hers, when, suddenly, in the air
+above our heads, as if it came from heaven,
+there burst forth a strain from a
+choir of voices, that with its solemn
+sweetness filled the whole valley.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Breaking away from my caress at these
+supernatural sounds, the maiden threw
+herself trembling upon her knees, and,
+not daring to look up, exclaimed wildly,
+<q>My mother, oh my mother!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the Christian’s morning hymn
+that we heard;—the same, as I learned
+afterwards, that, on their high terrace at
+Memphis, Alethe had been often taught
+by her mother to sing to the rising sun.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarcely less startled than my companion,
+I looked up, and, at the very summit
+of the rock above us, saw a light,
+appearing to come from a small opening or
+window, through which also the sounds,
+that had appeared so supernatural, issued.
+<pb n="229"/><anchor id="Pg229"/>There could be no doubt, that we had now
+found—if not the dwelling of the anchoret—at
+least, the haunt of some of the Christian
+brotherhood of these rocks, by whose
+assistance we could not fail to find the
+place of his retreat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The agitation, into which Alethe had
+been thrown by the first burst of that
+psalmody, soon yielded to the softening
+recollections which it brought back; and
+a calm came over her brow, such as it
+had never before worn, since our meeting.
+She seemed to feel that she had
+now reached her destined haven, and to
+hail, as the voice of heaven itself, those
+sounds by which she was welcomed to it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her tranquillity, however, I could
+not now sympathize. Impatient to know
+all that awaited her and myself, I pushed
+our boat close to the base of the rock,—directly
+under that lighted window on
+the summit, to find my way up to which
+was my first object. Having hastily
+received my instructions from Alethe,
+<pb n="230"/><anchor id="Pg230"/>and made her repeat again the name of
+the Christian whom we sought, I sprang
+upon the bank, and was not long in discovering
+a sort of rude stair-way, cut
+out of the rock, but leading, I found, by
+easy windings, up the steep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After ascending for some time, I arrived
+at a level space or ledge, which the hand
+of labour had succeeded in converting
+into a garden, and which was planted,
+here and there, with fig-trees and palms.
+Around it, too, I could perceive, through
+the glimmering light, a number of small
+caves or grottos, into some of which,
+human beings might find entrance, while
+others appeared no larger than the tombs
+of the Sacred Birds round Lake Mœris.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was still, I found, but half-way up
+the ascent to the summit, nor could perceive
+any further means of continuing
+my course, as the mountain from hence
+rose, almost perpendicularly, like a wall.
+At length, however, on exploring around,
+I discovered behind the shade of a
+syca<pb n="231"/><anchor id="Pg231"/>more a large ladder of wood, resting firmly
+against the rock, and affording an easy
+and secure ascent up the steep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having ascertained thus far, I again
+descended to the boat for Alethe,—whom
+I found trembling already at her
+short solitude,—and having led her up
+the steps to this quiet garden, left her
+safely lodged, amid its holy silence, while I
+pursued my way upward to the light on
+the rock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the top of the long ladder I found
+myself on another ledge or platform,
+somewhat smaller than the first, but
+planted in the same manner, with trees,
+and, as I could perceive by the mingled
+light of morning and the moon, embellished
+with flowers. I was now near the
+summit;—there remained but another
+short ascent, and, as a ladder against the
+rock, as before, supplied the means of
+scaling it, I was in a few minutes at the
+opening from which the light issued.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had ascended gently, as well from
+<pb n="232"/><anchor id="Pg232"/>a feeling of awe at the whole scene, as
+from an unwillingness to disturb too
+rudely the rites on which I intruded. My
+approach was, therefore, unheard, and an
+opportunity, during some moments, afforded
+me of observing the group within,
+before my appearance at the window was
+discovered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the middle of the apartment, which
+seemed once to have been a Pagan oratory,
+there was an assembly of seven or eight
+persons, some male, some female, kneeling
+in silence round a small altar;—while,
+among them, as if presiding over their
+ceremony, stood an aged man, who, at
+the moment of my arrival, was presenting
+to one of the female worshippers an
+alabaster cup, which she applied, with
+much reverence, to her lips. On the
+countenance of the venerable minister,
+as he pronounced a short prayer over
+her head, there was an expression of
+profound feeling that showed how wholly
+he was absorbed in that rite; and when
+<pb n="233"/><anchor id="Pg233"/>she had drank of the cup,—which I saw
+had engraven on its side the image of a
+head, with a glory round it,—the holy
+man bent down and kissed her forehead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this parting salutation, the whole
+group rose silently from their knees;
+and it was then, for the first time, that, by
+a cry of terror from one of the women,
+the appearance of a stranger at the window
+was discovered. The whole assembly
+seemed startled and alarmed, except him,
+that superior person, who, advancing from
+the altar, with an unmoved look, raised the
+latch of the door, which was adjoining to
+the window, and admitted me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was, in this old man’s features,
+a mixture of elevation and sweetness, of
+simplicity and energy, which commanded
+at once attachment and homage; and half
+hoping, half fearing to find in him the
+destined guardian of Alethe, I looked
+anxiously in his face, as I entered, and
+pronounced the name <q>Melanius!</q> <q>Melanius
+is my name, young stranger,</q> he
+<pb n="234"/><anchor id="Pg234"/>answered; <q>and whether in friendship or
+in enmity thou comest, Melanius blesses
+thee.</q> Thus saying, he made a sign with
+his right hand above my head, while, with
+involuntary respect, I bowed beneath the
+benediction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Let this volume,</q> I replied, <q>answer
+for the peacefulness of my mission,</q>—at
+the same time, placing in his hands the
+copy of the Scriptures, which had been
+his own gift to the mother of Alethe,
+and which her child now brought as the
+credential of her claims on his protection.
+At the sight of this sacred pledge, which he
+recognized instantly, the solemnity that had
+marked his first reception of me softened
+into tenderness. Thoughts of other times
+seemed to pass through his mind, and as,
+with a sigh of recollection, he took the book
+from my hands, some words on the outer
+leaf caught his eye. They were few,—but
+contained, perhaps, the last wishes of the
+dying Theora, for as he eagerly read them
+over, I saw the tears in his aged eyes.
+<pb n="235"/><anchor id="Pg235"/><q>The trust,</q> he said, with a faltering
+voice, <q>is sacred, and God will, I hope,
+enable his servant to guard it faithfully.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this short dialogue, the other
+persons of the assembly had departed—being,
+as I afterwards learned, brethren
+from the neighbouring bank of the Nile,
+who came thus secretly before day-break,
+to join in worshipping God. Fearful lest
+their descent down the rock might alarm
+Alethe, I hurried briefly over the few
+words of explanation that remained, and,
+leaving the venerable Christian to follow
+at his leisure, hastened anxiously down to
+rejoin the maiden.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="236"/><anchor id="Pg236"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XVI.</head>
+
+<p>
+Melanius was among the first of those
+Christians of Egypt, who, after the recent
+example of the hermit, Paul, renouncing
+all the comforts of social existence,
+betook themselves to a life of contemplation
+in the desert. Less selfish, however,
+in his piety, than most of these ascetics,
+Melanius forgot not the world, in leaving
+it. He knew that man was not born
+to live wholly for himself; that his relation
+to human kind was that of the
+link to the chain, and that even his solitude
+should be turned to the advantage
+of others. In flying, therefore, from the
+din and disturbance of life, he sought not
+to place himself beyond the reach of its
+sympathies, but selected a retreat, where
+he could combine the advantage of
+soli<pb n="237"/><anchor id="Pg237"/>tude with those opportunities of serving
+his fellow-men, which a neighbourhood to
+their haunts would afford.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That taste for the gloom of subterranean
+recesses, which the race of Misraim
+inherit from their Ethiopian ancestors,
+had, by hollowing out all Egypt into
+caverns and crypts, furnished these
+Christian anchorets with a choice of
+retreats. Accordingly, some found a
+shelter in the grottos of Elethya;—others,
+among the royal tombs of the
+Thebaïd. In the middle of the Seven
+Valleys, where the sun rarely shines, a
+few have fixed their dim and melancholy
+retreat, while others have sought the
+neighbourhood of the red Lakes of Nitria,
+and there,—like those Pagan solitaries
+of old, who dwelt among the palm-trees
+near the Dead Sea,—muse amid the
+sterility of nature, and seem to find, in her
+desolation, peace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was on one of the mountains of
+the Saïd, to the east of the river, that
+<pb n="238"/><anchor id="Pg238"/>Melanius, as we have seen, chose his
+place of seclusion,—between the life and
+fertility of the Nile on the one side, and
+the lone, dismal barrenness of the desert on
+the other. Half-way down this mountain,
+where it impends over the ravine, he
+found a series of caves or grottos dug out
+of the rock, which had, in other times,
+ministered to some purpose of mystery,
+but whose use had been long forgotten,
+and their recesses abandoned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To this place, after the banishment of
+his great master, Origen, Melanius, with a
+few faithful followers, retired, and, by the
+example of his innocent life, no less than
+by his fervid eloquence, succeeded in
+winning crowds of converts to his faith.
+Placed, as he was, in the neighbourhood
+of the rich city, Antinoë, though he
+mingled not with its multitude, his name
+and his fame were among them, and, to
+all who sought instruction or consolation,
+the cell of the hermit was ever open.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Notwithstanding the rigid abstinence of
+<pb n="239"/><anchor id="Pg239"/>his own habits, he was yet careful to provide
+for the comforts of others. Contented
+with a rude bed of straw, himself,
+for the stranger he had always a less
+homely resting-place. From his grotto,
+the wayfaring and the indigent never went
+unrefreshed; and, with the assistance of
+some of his brethren, he had formed
+gardens along the ledges of the mountain,
+which gave an air of cheerfulness to his
+rocky dwelling, and supplied him with the
+chief necessaries of such a climate, fruit
+and shade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though the acquaintance which he had
+formed with the mother of Alethe, during
+the short period of her attendance at the
+school of Origen, was soon interrupted,
+and never afterwards renewed, the interest
+which he had then taken in her fate was
+too lively to be forgotten. He had seen
+the zeal with which her young heart
+welcomed instruction; and the thought
+that such a candidate for heaven should
+have relapsed into idolatry, came often,
+<pb n="240"/><anchor id="Pg240"/>with disquieting apprehension, over his
+mind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was, therefore, with true pleasure,
+that, but a year or two before her death,
+he had learned, by a private communication
+from Theora, transmitted through a
+Christian embalmer of Memphis, that <q>not
+only her own heart had taken root in the
+faith, but that a new bud had flowered
+with the same divine hope, and that, ere
+long, he might see them both transplanted
+to the desert.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The coming, therefore, of Alethe was
+far less a surprise to him, than her
+coming thus alone was a shock and a
+sorrow; and the silence of their meeting
+showed how deeply each remembered that
+the tie which had brought them together was
+no longer of this world,—that the hand,
+which should have been joined with theirs,
+was in the tomb. I now saw that not even
+religion was proof against the sadness of
+mortality. For, as the old man put the
+ringlets aside from her forehead, and
+con<pb n="241"/><anchor id="Pg241"/>templated in that clear countenance the
+reflection of what her mother had been,
+there was a mournfulness mingled with
+his piety, as he said, <q>Heaven rest her
+soul!</q> which showed how little even
+the certainty of a heaven for those we love
+can subdue our regret for having lost
+them on earth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The full light of day had now risen
+upon the desert, and our host, reminded,
+by the faint looks of Alethe, of the many
+anxious hours we had passed without sleep,
+proposed that we should seek, in the
+chambers of the rock, such rest as the
+dwelling of a hermit could offer. Pointing
+to one of the largest openings, as he addressed
+me,—<q>Thou wilt find,</q> he said,
+<q>in that grotto a bed of fresh doum leaves,
+and may the consciousness of having protected
+the orphan sweeten thy sleep!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I felt how dearly this praise had been
+earned, and already almost repented of
+having deserved it. There was a sadness
+in the countenance of Alethe, as I took
+<pb n="242"/><anchor id="Pg242"/>leave of her, to which the forebodings of
+my own heart but too faithfully responded;
+nor could I help fearing, as her hand
+parted lingeringly from mine, that I had,
+by this sacrifice, placed her beyond my
+reach for ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having lighted me a lamp, which, in
+these recesses, even at noon, is necessary,
+the holy man led me to the entrance of
+the grotto;—and here, I blush to say, my
+career of hypocrisy began. With the
+sole view of obtaining another glance at
+Alethe, I turned humbly to solicit the benediction
+of the Christian, and, having conveyed
+to her, as I bent reverently down,
+as much of the deep feeling of my soul as
+looks could express, with a desponding
+spirit I hurried into the cavern.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A short passage led me to the chamber
+within,—the walls of which I found covered,
+like those of the grottos of Lycopolis, with
+paintings, which, though executed long
+ages ago, looked fresh as if their colours
+were but laid on yesterday. They were,
+<pb n="243"/><anchor id="Pg243"/>all of them, representations of rural and
+domestic scenes; and, in the greater number,
+the melancholy imagination of the
+artist had called Death in, as usual, to
+throw his shadow over the picture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My attention was particularly drawn to one
+series of subjects, throughout the whole of
+which the same group—a youth, a maiden,
+and two aged persons, who appeared to be
+the father and mother of the girl,—were
+represented in all the details of their daily
+life. The looks and attitudes of the young
+people denoted that they were lovers; and,
+sometimes, they were seen sitting under a
+canopy of flowers, with their eyes fixed
+on each other’s faces, as though they could
+never look away; sometimes, they appeared
+walking along the banks of the Nile,
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l rend="margin-left: 4">——on one of those sweet nights</l>
+<l>When Isis, the pure star of lovers, lights</l>
+<l>Her bridal crescent o’er the holy stream,—</l>
+<l>When wandering youths and maidens watch her beam,</l>
+<l>And number o’er the nights she hath to run,</l>
+<l>Ere she again embrace her bridegroom sun.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<pb n="244"/><anchor id="Pg244"/>
+
+<p>
+Through all these scenes of endearment
+the two elder persons stood by;—their
+calm countenances touched with a
+share of that bliss, in whose perfect light
+the young lovers were basking. Thus far,
+all was happiness,—but the sad lesson of
+mortality was to come. In the last picture
+of the series, one of the figures was missing.
+It was that of the young maiden, who had
+disappeared from among them. On the
+brink of a dark lake stood the three who
+remained; while a boat, just departing for
+the City of the Dead, told too plainly the
+end of their dream of happiness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This memorial of a sorrow of other
+times—of a sorrow, ancient as death
+itself,—was not wanting to deepen the
+melancholy of my mind, or to add to the
+weight of the many bodings that pressed
+on it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a night, as it seemed, of anxious
+and unsleeping thought, I rose from my
+bed and returned to the garden. I found
+the Christian alone,—seated, under the
+<pb n="245"/><anchor id="Pg245"/>shade of one of his trees, at a small table,
+with a volume unrolled before him, while
+a beautiful antelope lay sleeping at his feet.
+Struck forcibly by the contrast which he
+presented to those haughty priests, whom
+I had seen surrounded by the pomp and
+gorgeousness of temples, <q>Is this, then,</q>
+thought I, <q>the faith, before which the
+world trembles—its temple the desert,
+its treasury a book, and its High Priest
+the solitary dweller of the rock!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had prepared for me a simple, but
+hospitable, repast, of which fruits from
+his own garden, the white bread of Olyra,
+and the juice of the honey-cane were the
+most costly luxuries. His manner to me
+was even more cordial than before; but
+the absence of Alethe, and, still more, the
+ominous reserve, with which he not only,
+himself, refrained from all mention of her
+name, but eluded the few inquiries, by
+which I sought to lead to it, seemed to
+confirm all the fears I had felt in parting
+from her.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="246"/><anchor id="Pg246"/>
+
+<p>
+She had acquainted him, it was evident,
+with the whole history of our flight. My
+reputation as a philosopher—my desire
+to become a Christian—all was already
+known to the zealous Anchoret, and the
+subject of my conversion was the very first
+on which he entered. O pride of philosophy,
+how wert thou then humbled, and
+with what shame did I stand, casting down
+my eyes, before that venerable man, as,
+with ingenuous trust in the sincerity of my
+intention, he welcomed me to a participation
+of his holy hope, and imprinted the
+Kiss of Charity on my infidel brow!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Embarrassed as I felt by the consciousness
+of hypocrisy, I was even still more
+perplexed by my total ignorance of the
+real tenets of the faith to which I professed
+myself a convert. Abashed and
+confused, and with a heart sick at its own
+deceit, I heard the animated and eloquent
+gratulations of the Christian, as though
+they were words in a dream, without link
+or meaning; nor could disguise but by the
+<pb n="247"/><anchor id="Pg247"/>mockery of a reverential bow, at every
+pause, the entire want of self-possession,
+and even of speech, under which I laboured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few minutes more of such trial, and
+I must have avowed my imposture. But
+the holy man saw my embarrassment;—and,
+whether mistaking it for awe, or
+knowing it to be ignorance, relieved me
+from my perplexity by, at once, changing
+the theme. Having gently awakened his
+antelope from its sleep, <q>You have heard,</q>
+he said, <q>I doubt not, of my brother-anchoret,
+Paul, who, from his cave in
+the marble mountains, near the Red Sea,
+sends hourly <q>the sacrifice of thanksgiving</q>
+to heaven. Of <hi rend="italic">his</hi> walks, they tell me, a
+lion is the companion; but, for me,</q> he
+added, with a playful and significant smile,
+<q>who try my powers of taming but on the
+gentler animals, this feeble child of the
+desert is a far fitter play-mate.</q> Then,
+taking his staff, and putting the time-worn
+<pb n="248"/><anchor id="Pg248"/>volume which he had been reading into
+a large goat-skin pouch, that hung by his
+side, <q>I will now,</q> said he, <q>lead thee
+over my rocky kingdom,—that thou
+mayst see in what drear and barren
+places, that <q>fruit of the spirit,</q> Peace,
+may be gathered.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To speak of peace to a heart like mine,
+at that moment, was like talking of some
+distant harbour to the mariner sinking at
+sea. In vain did I look round for some
+sign of Alethe;—in vain make an effort
+even to utter her name. Consciousness
+of my own deceit, as well as a fear of
+awakening in Melanius any suspicion that
+might frustrate my only hope, threw a
+fetter over my spirit and checked my
+tongue. In silence, therefore, I followed,
+while the cheerful old man, with slow,
+but firm, step, ascended the rock, by the
+same ladders which I had mounted on the
+preceding night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During the time when the Decian Persecution
+was raging, many Christians of
+<pb n="249"/><anchor id="Pg249"/>this neighbourhood, he informed me, had
+taken refuge under his protection, in these
+grottos; and the chapel on the summit,
+where I had found them at prayer, was, in
+those times of danger, their place of retreat,
+where, by drawing up these ladders,
+they were enabled to secure themselves
+from pursuit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From the top of the rock, the view, on
+either side, embraced the two extremes of
+fertility and desolation; nor could the
+Epicurean and the Anchoret, who now
+gazed from that height, be at any loss to
+indulge their respective tastes, between the
+living luxuriance of the world on one side,
+and the dead repose of the desert on the
+other. When we turned to the river, what
+a picture of animation presented itself!
+Near us, to the south, were the graceful
+colonnades of Antinoë, its proud, populous
+streets, and triumphal monuments. On the
+opposite shore, rich plains, teeming with
+cultivation to the water’s edge, offered up,
+<pb n="250"/><anchor id="Pg250"/>as from verdant altars, their fruits to the
+sun; while, beneath us, the Nile,
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l rend="margin-left: 10">——the glorious stream,</l>
+<l>That late between its banks was seen to glide,—</l>
+<l>With shrines and marble cities, on each side,</l>
+<l>Glittering, like jewels strung along a chain,—</l>
+<l>Had now sent forth its waters, and o’er plain</l>
+<l>And valley, like a giant from his bed</l>
+<l>Rising with outstretch’d limbs, superbly spread.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+From this scene, on one side of the mountain,
+we had but to turn round our eyes,
+and it was as if nature herself had become
+suddenly extinct;—a wide waste of sands,
+bleak and interminable, wearying out the
+sun with its sameness of desolation;—black,
+burnt-up rocks, that stood as barriers,
+at which life stopped;—while the
+only signs of animation, past or present,
+were the foot-prints, here and there, of an
+antelope or ostrich, or the bones of dead
+camels, as they lay whitening at a distance,
+marking out the track of the caravans over
+the waste.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="251"/><anchor id="Pg251"/>
+
+<p>
+After listening, while he contrasted, in
+a few eloquent words, the two regions of
+life and death on whose confines we stood,
+I again descended with my guide to the
+garden we had left. From thence, turning
+into a path along the mountain-side,
+he conducted me to another row of grottos,
+facing the desert, which had once, he said,
+been the abode of those brethren in Christ,
+who had fled with him to this solitude
+from the crowded world,—but which
+death had, within a few months, rendered
+tenantless. A cross of red stone, and a
+few faded trees, were the only traces these
+solitaries had left behind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A silence of some minutes succeeded,
+while we descended to the edge of the
+canal; and I saw opposite, among the
+rocks, that solitary cave, which had so
+chilled me with its aspect on the preceding
+night. By the bank we found
+one of those rustic boats, which the Egyptians
+construct of planks of wild thorn,
+bound rudely together with bands of
+papy<pb n="252"/><anchor id="Pg252"/>rus. Placing ourselves in this boat, and
+rather impelling than rowing it across,
+we made our way through the foul and
+shallow flood, and landed directly under
+the site of the cave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This dwelling, as I have already mentioned,
+was situated upon a ledge of the
+rock; and, being provided with a sort of
+window or aperture to admit the light of
+heaven, was accounted, I found, more
+cheerful than the grottos on the other
+side of the ravine. But there was a
+dreariness in the whole region around, to
+which light only lent more horror. The
+dead whiteness of the rocks, as they stood,
+like ghosts, in the sunshine;—that melancholy
+pool, half lost in the sands;—all
+gave me the idea of a wasting world.
+To dwell in such a place seemed to me
+like a living death; and when the Christian,
+as we entered the cave, said, <q>Here
+is to be thy home,</q> prepared as I was
+for the worst, my resolution gave way;—every
+feeling of disappointed passion
+<pb n="253"/><anchor id="Pg253"/>and humbled pride, which had been gathering
+round my heart for the last few
+hours, found a vent at once, and I burst
+into tears!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well accustomed to human weakness,
+and perhaps guessing at some of the
+sources of mine, the good Hermit, without
+appearing to notice this emotion, expatiated,
+with a cheerful air, on, what he
+called, the many comforts of my dwelling.
+Sheltered, he said, from the dry, burning
+wind of the south, my porch would inhale
+the fresh breeze of the Dog-star. Fruits
+from his own mountain-garden should
+furnish my repast. The well of the neighbouring
+rock would supply my beverage;
+and, <q>here,</q> he continued,—lowering his
+voice into a more solemn tone, as he
+placed upon the table the volume which he
+had brought,—<q>here, my son, is that
+<q>well of living waters,</q> in which alone
+thou wilt find lasting refreshment or
+peace!</q> Thus saying, he descended
+<pb n="254"/><anchor id="Pg254"/>the rock to his boat, and after a few
+plashes of his oar had died upon my ear,
+the solitude and silence around me was
+complete.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="255"/><anchor id="Pg255"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XVII.</head>
+
+<p>
+What a fate was mine!—but a few
+weeks since, presiding over that splendid
+Festival of the Garden, with all the luxuries
+of existence tributary in my train;
+and now,—self-humbled into a solitary
+outcast,—the hypocritical pupil of a
+Christian anchoret,—without even the excuse
+of fanaticism, or of any other madness,
+but that of love, wild love, to extenuate
+my fall! Were there a hope that, by this
+humiliating waste of existence, I might
+purchase but a glimpse, now and then,
+of Alethe, even the depths of the desert,
+with such a chance, would be welcome.
+But to live—and live thus—<hi rend="italic">without</hi> her,
+was a misery which I neither foresaw nor
+could endure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hating even to look upon the den to
+which I was doomed, I hurried out into
+<pb n="256"/><anchor id="Pg256"/>the air, and found my way, along the
+rocks, to the desert. The sun was going
+down, with that blood-red hue, which he
+so frequently wears, in this clime, at his
+setting. I saw the sands, stretching out,
+like a sea, to the horizon, as if their waste
+extended to the very verge of the world,—and,
+in the bitterness of my feelings, rejoiced
+to see so much of creation rescued, even by
+this barren liberty, from the grasp of man.
+The thought seemed to relieve my wounded
+pride, and, as I wandered over the dim
+and boundless solitude, to be thus free,
+even amid blight and desolation, appeared
+a blessing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only living thing I saw was a restless
+swallow, whose wings were of the hue
+of the grey sands over which he fluttered.
+<q>Why may not the mind, like this bird,
+take the colour of the desert, and sympathise
+in its austerity, its freedom, and its
+calm?</q>—thus, between despondence and
+defiance, did I ask myself, endeavouring
+to face with fortitude what yet my heart
+<pb n="257"/><anchor id="Pg257"/>sickened to contemplate. But the effort
+was unavailing. Overcome by that vast
+solitude, whose repose was not the slumber
+of peace, but the sullen and burning
+silence of hate, I felt my spirit give way,
+and even love itself yield to despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seating myself on a fragment of a rock,
+and covering my eyes with my hands, I
+made an effort to shut out the overwhelming
+prospect. But in vain—it was still
+before me, deepened by all that fancy
+could add; and when, again looking
+up, I saw the last red ray of the sun,
+shooting across that melancholy and lifeless
+waste, it seemed to me like the light of
+the comet that once desolated this world,
+shining out luridly over the ruin that it
+had made!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Appalled by my own gloomy imaginations,
+I turned towards the ravine; and,
+notwithstanding the disgust with which I
+had left my dwelling, was not ill pleased
+to find my way, over the rocks, to it again.
+On approaching the cave, to my
+astonish<pb n="258"/><anchor id="Pg258"/>ment, I saw a light within. At such a
+moment, any vestige of life was welcome,
+and I hailed the unexpected appearance
+with pleasure. On entering, however, I
+found the chamber as lonely as I had
+left it. The light came from a lamp that
+burned brightly on the table; beside it
+was unfolded the volume which Melanius
+had brought, and upon the leaves—oh,
+joy and surprise—lay the well-known
+cross of Alethe!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+What hand, but her own, could have
+prepared this reception for me?—The
+very thought sent a hope into my heart,
+before which all despondency fled. Even
+the gloom of the desert was forgotten,
+and my cave at once brightened into a
+bower. She had here reminded me, herself,
+by this sacred memorial, of the vow
+which I had pledged to her under the
+Hermit’s rock; and I now scrupled not
+to reiterate the same daring promise,
+though conscious that through hypocrisy
+alone I could fulfil it.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="259"/><anchor id="Pg259"/>
+
+<p>
+Eager to prepare myself for my task
+of imposture, I sat down to the volume,
+which I now found to be the Hebrew
+Scriptures; and the first sentence, on
+which my eyes fell, was—<q>The Lord
+hath commanded the blessing, even Life
+for evermore!</q> Startled by these words,
+in which the Spirit of my dream seemed
+again to pronounce his assuring prediction, I
+raised my eyes from the page, and repeated
+the sentence over and over, as if to try
+whether the sounds had any charm or spell,
+to reawaken that faded illusion in my soul.
+But, no—the rank frauds of the Memphian
+priesthood had dispelled all my trust in
+the promises of religion. My heart had
+again relapsed into its gloom of scepticism,
+and, to the word of <q>Life,</q> the only answer
+it sent back was, <q>Death!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Impatient, however, to possess myself of
+the elements of a faith, on which,—whatever
+it might promise for hereafter,—I felt that
+my happiness here depended, I turned
+over the pages with an earnestness and
+<pb n="260"/><anchor id="Pg260"/>avidity, such as never even the most favourite
+of my studies had awakened in me.
+Though, like all, who seek but the surface
+of learning, I flew desultorily over the
+leaves, lighting only on the more prominent
+and shining points, I yet found
+myself, even in this undisciplined career,
+arrested, at every page, by the awful, the
+supernatural sublimity, the alternate melancholy
+and grandeur of the images that
+crowded upon me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had, till now, known the Hebrew
+theology but through the platonising refinements
+of Philo;—as, in like manner,
+for my knowledge of the Christian doctrine
+I was indebted to my brother Epicureans,
+Lucian and Celsus. Little,
+therefore, was I prepared for the simple
+majesty, the high tone of inspiration,—the
+poetry, in short, of heaven that
+breathed throughout these oracles. Could
+admiration have kindled faith, I should,
+that night, have been a believer; so elevated,
+so awed was my imagination by
+<pb n="261"/><anchor id="Pg261"/>that wonderful book,—its warnings of
+woe, its announcements of glory, and its
+unrivalled strains of adoration and sorrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hour after hour, with the same eager
+and desultory curiosity, did I turn over
+the leaves;—and when, at length, I lay
+down to rest, my fancy was still haunted
+by the impressions it had received. I went
+again through the various scenes of which
+I had read; again called up, in sleep, the
+bright images that had charmed me, and,
+when wakened at day-break by the Hymn
+from the chapel, fancied myself still listening
+to the sound of the winds, sighing
+mournfully through the harps of Israel
+on the willows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Starting from my bed, I hurried out
+upon the rock, with a hope that, among
+the tones of that morning choir, I might
+be able to distinguish the sweet voice of
+Alethe. But the strain had ceased;—I
+caught only the last notes of the Hymn,
+as, echoing up that lonely valley, they
+died away into the silence of the desert.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="262"/><anchor id="Pg262"/>
+
+<p>
+With the first glimpse of light I was
+again at my study, and, notwithstanding
+the distraction both of my thoughts and
+looks towards the half-seen grottos of the
+Anchoret, pursued it perseveringly through
+the day. Still alive, however, but to the
+eloquence, the poetry of what I read, of
+its connection or authenticity, as a history,
+I never paused to consider. My fancy
+being alone interested by it, to fancy I referred
+all it contained; and, passing rapidly
+from annals to prophecy, from narration to
+song, regarded the whole but as a tissue
+of splendid allegories, in which the melancholy
+of Egyptian associations was interwoven
+with the rich imagery of the
+East.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Towards sunset I saw the boat of Melanius
+on its way, across the canal, to my
+cave. Though he had no other companion
+than his graceful antelope, that stood snuffing
+the wild air of the desert, as if scenting
+its home, I felt his visit, even thus,
+to be a most welcome relief. It was the
+<pb n="263"/><anchor id="Pg263"/>hour, he said, of his evening ramble up
+the mountain,—of his accustomed visit to
+those cisterns of the rock, from which he
+nightly drew his most precious beverage.
+While he spoke, I observed in his hand
+one of those earthen cups, in which the
+inhabitants of the wilderness are accustomed
+to collect the fresh dew among the
+rocks. Having proposed that I should accompany
+him in his walk, he led me, in the
+direction of the desert, up the side of the
+mountain that rose above my dwelling, and
+which formed the southern wall or screen
+of the defile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Near the summit we found a seat, where
+the old man paused to rest. It commanded
+a full view over the desert, and was by the
+side of one of those hollows in the rock,
+those natural reservoirs, in which the dews
+of night are treasured up for the refreshment
+of the dwellers in the wilderness.
+Having learned from me how far I had proceeded
+in my study, <q>In that light,</q> said
+he, pointing to a small cloud in the east,
+<pb n="264"/><anchor id="Pg264"/>which had been formed on the horizon by
+the haze of the desert, and was now faintly
+reflecting the splendours of sunset,—<q>in
+that light stands Mount Sinai, of whose
+glory thou hast read; on whose summit
+was the scene of one of those awful revelations,
+in which the Almighty has, from
+time to time, renewed his communication
+with Man, and kept alive the remembrance
+of his own Providence in this
+world.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a pause, as if absorbed in the
+immensity of the subject, the holy man
+continued his sublime theme. Looking
+back to the earliest annals of time, he
+showed how constantly every relapse of
+the human race into idolatry has been
+followed by some manifestation of divine
+power, chastening the proud by punishment,
+and winning back the humble by
+love. It was to preserve, he said, unextinguished
+upon earth, that vital truth,—the
+Creation of the world by one Supreme
+Being,—that God chose, from among the
+<pb n="265"/><anchor id="Pg265"/>nations, an humble and enslaved race;—that
+he brought them out of their captivity <q>on
+eagles’ wings,</q> and, surrounding every step
+of their course with miracles, placed them
+before the eyes of all succeeding generations,
+as the depositaries of his will, and
+the ever-during memorials of his power.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Passing, then, in review the long train
+of inspired interpreters, whose pens and
+whose tongues were made the echoes of
+the Divine voice, he traced<note place="foot">In the original the discourses of the Hermit are
+given much more at length.</note>, through the
+events of successive ages, the gradual unfolding
+of the dark scheme of Providence—darkness
+without, but all light and glory
+within. The glimpses of a coming redemption,
+visible even through the wrath of
+heaven;—the long series of prophecy,
+through which this hope runs, burning
+and alive, like a spark through a chain;—the
+merciful preparation of the hearts
+of mankind for the great trial of their
+<pb n="266"/><anchor id="Pg266"/>faith and obedience that was at hand,
+not only by miracles that appealed to
+the living, but by predictions launched
+into futurity to carry conviction to the
+yet unborn;—<q>through all these glorious
+and beneficent gradations we may
+track,</q> said he, <q>the manifest footsteps of
+a Creator, advancing to his grand, ultimate
+end, the salvation of his creatures.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some hours devoted to these holy
+instructions, we returned to the ravine, and
+Melanius left me at my cave; praying, as
+he parted from me,—with a benevolence
+I but ill, alas! deserved,—that my soul,
+under these lessons, might be <q>as a watered
+garden,</q> and, ere long, bear <q>fruit
+unto life eternal.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Next morning, I was again at my study,
+and even more eager in the task than before.
+With the commentary of the Hermit
+freshly in my memory, I again read through,
+with attention, the Book of the Law. But
+in vain did I seek the promise of immortality
+in its pages. <q>It tells me,</q> said
+<pb n="267"/><anchor id="Pg267"/>I, <q>of a God coming down to earth, but
+of the ascent of Man to heaven it speaks
+not. The rewards, the punishments it
+announces, lie all on this side of the
+grave; nor did even the Omnipotent offer
+to his own chosen servants a hope beyond
+the impassable limits of this world.
+Where, then, is the salvation of which
+the Christian spoke? or, if Death be at
+the root of the faith, can Life spring out
+of it!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Again, in the bitterness of disappointment,
+did I mock at my own willing self-delusion,—again
+rail at the arts of that
+traitress, Fancy, ever ready, like the Delilah
+of this book, to steal upon the slumbers
+of Reason, and deliver him up, shorn
+and powerless, to his foes. If deception—thought
+I, with a sigh—be necessary,
+at least let me not practise it
+on myself;—in the desperate alternative
+before me, let me rather be even hypocrite
+than dupe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These self-accusing reflections,
+cheer<pb n="268"/><anchor id="Pg268"/>less as they rendered my task, did not
+abate, for a single moment, my industry in
+pursuing it. I read on and on, with a sort
+of sullen apathy, neither charmed by style,
+nor transported by imagery,—that fatal
+blight in my heart having communicated
+itself to my fancy and taste. The curses
+and the blessings, the glory and the ruin,
+which the historian recorded and the prophet
+predicted, seemed all of this world,—all,
+temporal and earthly. That mortality,
+of which the fountain-head had
+tasted, tinged the whole stream; and when
+I read the words, <q>all are of the dust,
+and all turn to dust again,</q> a feeling, like
+the wind of the desert, came witheringly
+over me. Love, Beauty, Glory, every
+thing most bright upon earth, appeared
+sinking before my eyes, under this dreadful
+doom, into one general mass of corruption
+and silence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Possessed by the image of desolation I
+had called up, I laid my head on the book,
+in a paroxysm of despair. Death, in all
+<pb n="269"/><anchor id="Pg269"/>his most ghastly varieties, passed before
+me; and I had continued thus for some
+time, as under the influence of a fearful
+vision, when the touch of a hand upon my
+shoulder roused me. Looking up, I saw
+the Anchoret standing by my side;—his
+countenance beaming with that sublime
+tranquillity, which a hope, beyond
+this earth, alone can bestow. How I
+envied him!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We again took our way to the seat upon
+the mountain,—the gloom in my own
+mind making every thing around me
+more gloomy. Forgetting my hypocrisy
+in my feelings, I, at once, avowed to him
+all the doubts and fears which my study
+of the morning had awakened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Thou art yet, my son,</q> he answered,
+<q>but on the threshold of our faith. Thou
+hast seen but the first rudiments of the
+Divine plan;—its full and consummate
+perfection hath not yet opened upon thee.
+However glorious that manifestation of
+Divinity on Mount Sinai, it was but the
+<pb n="270"/><anchor id="Pg270"/>forerunner of another, still more glorious,
+that, in the fulness of time, was to burst
+upon the world; when all, that had
+seemed dim and incomplete, was to be
+perfected, and the promises, shadowed
+out by the <q>spirit of prophecy,</q> realized;—when
+the silence, that lay, as a seal, on
+the future, was to be broken, and the
+glad tidings of life and immortality proclaimed
+to the world!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Observing my features brighten at these
+words, the pious man continued. Anticipating
+some of the holy knowledge that was in
+store for me, he traced, through all its
+wonders and mercies, the great work of
+Redemption, dwelling on every miraculous
+circumstance connected with it;—the
+exalted nature of the Being, by whose
+ministry it was accomplished, the noblest
+and first created of the Sons of God,
+inferior only to the one, self-existent
+Father;—the mysterious incarnation of
+this heavenly messenger;—the miracles
+that authenticated his divine
+mission;—<pb n="271"/><anchor id="Pg271"/>the example of obedience to God and
+love to man, which he set, as a shining
+light, before the world for ever;—and,
+lastly and chiefly, his death and resurrection,
+by which the covenant of mercy
+was sealed, and <q>life and immortality
+brought to light.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Such,</q> continued the Hermit, <q>was
+the Mediator, promised through all time,
+to <q>make reconciliation for iniquity,</q> to
+change death into life, and bring <q>healing
+on his wings</q> to a darkened world.
+Such was the last crowning dispensation
+of that God of benevolence, in whose
+hands sin and death are but instruments of
+everlasting good, and who, through apparent
+evil and temporary retribution,
+bringing all things <q>out of darkness into
+his marvellous light,</q> proceeds watchfully
+and unchangingly to the great, final object
+of his providence,—the restoration of the
+whole human race to purity and happiness!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a mind astonished, if not touched,
+<pb n="272"/><anchor id="Pg272"/>by these discourses, I returned to my cave;
+and found the lamp, as before, ready
+lighted to receive me. The volume which I
+had been reading was replaced by another,
+which lay open upon the table, with a
+branch of fresh palm between its leaves.
+Though I could not have a doubt to whose
+gentle hand I was indebted for this invisible
+superintendence over my studies,
+there was yet a something in it, so like spiritual
+interposition, that it awed me;—and
+never more than at this moment, when,
+on approaching the volume, I saw, as the
+light glistened over its silver letters, that it
+was the very Book of Life of which the
+Hermit had spoken!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The orison of the Christians had sounded
+through the valley, before I raised my
+eyes from that sacred volume; and the
+second hour of the sun found me again
+over its pages.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="273"/><anchor id="Pg273"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XVIII.</head>
+
+<p>
+In this mode of existence did I pass
+some days;—my mornings devoted to
+reading, my nights to listening, under the
+canopy of heaven, to the holy eloquence
+of Melanius. The perseverance with
+which I enquired, and the quickness with
+which I learned, soon succeeded in deceiving
+my benevolent instructor, who
+mistook curiosity for zeal and knowledge
+for belief. Alas! cold, and barren, and
+earthly was that knowledge,—the word,
+without the spirit, the shape, without the
+life. Even when, as a relief from hypocrisy,
+I persuaded myself that I believed,
+it was but a brief delusion, a faith,
+whose hope crumbled at the touch,—like
+the fruit of the desert-shrub, shining
+and empty!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, though my soul was still dark, the
+<pb n="274"/><anchor id="Pg274"/>good Hermit saw not into its depths. The
+very facility of my belief, which might
+have suggested some doubt of its sincerity,
+was but regarded by his innocent zeal, as
+a more signal triumph of the truth. His
+own ingenuousness led him to a ready
+trust in others; and the examples of such
+conversion as that of the philosopher,
+Justin, who received the light into his soul
+during a walk by the sea-shore, had prepared
+him for illuminations of the spirit,
+even more rapid than mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this time, I neither saw nor
+heard of Alethe;—nor could my patience
+have endured so long a privation, had not
+those mute vestiges of her presence, that
+welcomed me every night on my return,
+made me feel that I was still living under
+her gentle influence, and that her sympathy
+hung round every step of my progress.
+Once, too, when I ventured to speak her
+name to Melanius, though he answered
+not my enquiry, there was a smile, I
+thought, of promise upon his countenance,
+<pb n="275"/><anchor id="Pg275"/>which love, more alive than faith, interpreted
+as it wished.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length,—it was on the sixth or
+seventh evening of my solitude, when I
+lay resting at the door of my cave, alter
+the study of the day,—I was startled by
+hearing my name called loudly from the
+opposite rocks, and looking up, saw, on
+the cliff near the deserted grottos, Melanius
+and—oh, I could not doubt—my
+Alethe by his side!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though I had never ceased, since the
+first night of my return from the desert,
+to flatter myself with the fancy that I was
+still living in her presence, the actual sight
+of her again made me feel what an age
+we had been separated. She was clothed
+all in white, and, as she stood in the
+last remains of the sunshine, appeared to
+my too prophetic fancy like a parting
+spirit, whose last footsteps on earth that
+glory encircled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With a delight only to be imagined, I
+saw them descend the rocks, and placing
+<pb n="276"/><anchor id="Pg276"/>themselves in the boat, proceed towards
+my cave. To disguise from Melanius
+the feelings with which we met was impossible;—nor
+did Alethe even attempt
+to make a secret of her innocent joy.
+Though blushing at her own happiness,
+she could as little conceal it, as the clear
+waters of Ethiopia can hide their gold.
+Every look, too, every word, spoke a fulness
+of affection, to which, doubtful as I
+was of our tenure of happiness, I knew
+not how to answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not long, however, left ignorant
+of the bright fate that awaited me; but,
+as we wandered or rested among the
+rocks, learned every thing that had been
+arranged since our parting. She had
+made the Hermit, I found, acquainted
+with all that had passed between us; had
+told him, without reserve, every incident
+of our voyage,—the avowals, the demonstrations
+of affection on one side, and
+the deep sentiment that gratitude had
+awakened on the other. Too wise to
+re<pb n="277"/><anchor id="Pg277"/>gard feelings, so natural, with severity,—knowing
+that they were of heaven, and
+but made evil by man,—the good Hermit
+had heard of our attachment with pleasure;
+and, proved as he thought the
+purity of my views had been, by the
+fidelity with which I had delivered up my
+trust into his hands, saw, in my affection
+for the young orphan, but a providential
+resource against that friendless solitude in
+which his death must soon leave her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I collected these particulars from
+their discourse, I could hardly trust my
+ears. It seemed too much happiness to
+be real; nor can words give an idea of
+the joy—the shame—the wonder with
+which I listened, while the holy man himself
+declared, that he awaited but the moment,
+when he should find me worthy of
+becoming a member of the Christian
+Church, to give me also the hand of Alethe
+in that sacred union, which alone sanctifies
+love, and makes the faith, which it pledges,
+heavenly. It was but yesterday, he added,
+<pb n="278"/><anchor id="Pg278"/>that his young charge, herself, after a preparation
+of prayer and repentance, such
+as even her pure spirit required, had been
+admitted, by the sacred ordinance of baptism,
+into the bosom of the faith;—and
+the white garment she wore, and the ring
+of gold on her finger, <q>were symbols,</q>
+he said, <q>of that New Life into which
+she had been initiated.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I raised my eyes to her as he spoke,
+but withdrew them again, dazzled and
+confused. Even her beauty, to my imagination,
+seemed to have undergone some
+brightening change; and the contrast between
+that open and happy countenance,
+and the unblest brow of the infidel that
+stood before her, abashed me into a sense
+of unworthiness, and almost checked my
+rapture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To that night, however, I look back, as
+an epoch in my existence. It proved
+that sorrow is not the only awakener of
+devotion, but that joy may sometimes call
+the holy spark into life. Returning to
+<pb n="279"/><anchor id="Pg279"/>my cave, with a heart full, even to oppression,
+of its happiness, I knew no other
+relief to my overcharged feelings than that
+of throwing myself on my knees, and,
+for the first time in my life, uttering a
+prayer, that if, indeed, there were a
+Being who watched over mankind, he
+would send down one ray of his truth into
+my soul, and make it worthy of the blessings,
+both here and hereafter, proffered to
+me!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My days now rolled on in a perfect
+dream of happiness. Every hour of the
+morning was welcomed as bringing nearer
+and nearer the blest time of sunset, when
+the Hermit and Alethe never failed to pay
+their visit to my now charmed cave, where
+her smile left a light, at each parting, that
+lasted till her return. Then, our rambles,
+by star-light, over the mountain;—our
+pauses, on the way, to contemplate the
+bright wonders of that heaven above us;—our
+repose by the cistern of the rock,
+and our silent listening, through hours
+<pb n="280"/><anchor id="Pg280"/>that seemed minutes, to the holy eloquence
+of our teacher;—all, all was happiness of
+the most heartfelt kind, and such as even
+the doubts, the cold, lingering doubts, that
+still hung, like a mist, around my heart,
+could neither cloud nor chill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the moonlight nights returned,
+we used to venture into the desert; and
+those sands, which but lately had appeared
+to me so desolate, now wore even a
+cheerful and smiling aspect. To the light,
+innocent heart of Alethe every thing was a
+source of enjoyment. For her, even the
+desert had its jewels and flowers; and,
+sometimes, her delight was to search
+among the sands for those beautiful pebbles
+of jasper that abound in them;—sometimes,
+her eyes sparkled on finding, perhaps,
+a stunted marigold, or one of those
+bitter, scarlet flowers, that lend their mockery
+of ornament to the desert. In all these
+pursuits and pleasures the good Hermit
+took a share,—mingling with them occasionally
+the reflections of a benevolent
+<pb n="281"/><anchor id="Pg281"/>piety, that lent its own cheerful hue to all
+the works of creation, and saw the consoling
+truth <q>God is Love,</q> written legibly
+every where.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Such was, for a few weeks, my blissful
+life. Oh mornings of hope, oh nights of
+happiness, with what mournful pleasure do
+I retrace your flight, and how reluctantly
+pass to the sad events that followed!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this time, in compliance with the
+wishes of Melanius, who seemed unwilling
+that I should become wholly estranged from
+the world, I occasionally paid a visit to the
+neighbouring city, Antinoë, which, as the
+capital of the Thebaid, is the centre of all
+the luxury of Upper Egypt. Here,—so
+changed was my every feeling by the all-transforming
+passion that possessed me,—I
+wandered, unamused and uninterested
+by either the scenes or the people that surrounded
+me, and, sighing for that rocky solitude
+where Alethe breathed, felt <hi rend="italic">this</hi> to be
+the wilderness, and <hi rend="italic">that</hi>, the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even the thoughts of my own native
+<pb n="282"/><anchor id="Pg282"/>Athens, that were called up, at every step,
+by the light, Grecian architecture of this
+imperial city, did not awaken one single
+regret in my heart—one wish to exchange
+even an hour of my desert for the
+best luxuries and honours that awaited me
+in the Garden. I saw the arches of triumph;—I
+walked under the superb portico, which
+encircles the whole city with its marble
+shade;—I stood in the Circus of the Sun,
+by whose rose-coloured pillars the mysterious
+movements of the Nile are measured;—all
+these bright ornaments of glory and
+art, as well as the gay multitude that enlivened
+them, I saw with an unheeding eye.
+If they awakened in me any thought, it
+was the mournful idea, that, one day, like
+Thebes and Heliopolis, this pageant would
+pass away, leaving nothing behind but a
+few mouldering ruins,—like the sea-shells
+found where the ocean has been,—to tell
+that the great tide of Life was once there!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, though indifferent thus to all that
+had formerly attracted me, there were
+<pb n="283"/><anchor id="Pg283"/>subjects, once alien to my heart, on which
+it was now most tremblingly alive; and
+some rumours which had reached me, in
+one of my visits to the city, of an expected
+change in the policy of the Emperor towards
+the Christians, filled me with apprehensions
+as new as they were dreadful
+to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The peace and even favour which the
+Christians enjoyed, during the first four
+years of the reign of Valerian, had removed
+from them all fear of a renewal of those
+horrors, which they had experienced under
+the rule of his predecessor, Decius. Of
+late, however, some less friendly dispositions
+had manifested themselves. The
+bigots of the court, taking alarm at the
+spread of the new faith, had succeeded
+in filling the mind of the monarch with that
+religious jealousy, which is the ever-ready
+parent of cruelty and injustice. Among
+these counsellors of evil was Macrianus, the
+Prætorian Prefect, who was, by birth, an
+Egyptian, and—so akin is superstition to
+<pb n="284"/><anchor id="Pg284"/>intolerance—had long made himself notorious
+by his addiction to the dark practices
+of demon-worship and magic.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this minister, who was now high
+in the favour of Valerian, the expected
+measures of severity against the Christians,
+it was supposed, would emanate. All
+tongues, in all quarters, were busy with
+the news. In the streets, in the public
+gardens, on the steps of the temples, I saw,
+every where, groups of enquirers collected,
+and heard the name of Macrianus upon
+every tongue. It was dreadful, too, to
+observe, in the countenances of those who
+spoke, the variety of feeling with which
+the rumour was discussed, according as
+they desired or dreaded its truth,—according
+as they were likely to be among
+the torturers or the victims.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alarmed, though still ignorant of the
+whole extent of the danger, I hurried back
+to the ravine, and, going at once to the
+grotto of Melanius, detailed to him every
+particular of the intelligence I had
+col<pb n="285"/><anchor id="Pg285"/>lected. He heard me with a composure,
+which I mistook, alas, for confidence in
+his security; and, naming the hour for our
+evening walk, retired into his grotto.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the accustomed time Alethe and he
+were at my cave. It was evident that he
+had not communicated to her the intelligence
+which I had brought, for never did
+brow wear such a happiness as that which
+now played round hers;—it was, alas, <hi rend="italic">not</hi>
+of this earth! Melanius, himself, though
+composed, was thoughtful; and the solemnity,
+almost approaching to melancholy,
+with which he placed the hand of Alethe in
+mine—in the performance, too, of a ceremony
+that <hi rend="italic">ought</hi> to have filled my heart
+with joy—saddened and alarmed me. This
+ceremony was our betrothment,—the plighting
+of our faith to each other,—which we
+now solemnized on the rock before the
+door of my cave, in the face of that sunset
+heaven, with its one star standing as
+witness. After a blessing from the Hermit
+on our spousal pledge, I placed the
+<pb n="286"/><anchor id="Pg286"/>ring,—the earnest of our future union—on
+her finger, and, in the blush, with
+which she surrendered her whole heart to
+me at that instant, forgot every thing but
+my happiness, and felt secure, even against
+fate!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We took our accustomed walk over the
+rocks and on the desert. The moon was
+so bright,—like the daylight, indeed, of
+other climes—that we could see plainly
+the tracks of the wild antelopes in the
+sand; and it was not without a slight
+tremble of feeling in his voice, as if some
+melancholy analogy occurred to him as he
+spoke, that the good Hermit said, <q>I
+have observed in my walks, that where-ever
+the track of that gentle animal is
+seen, there is, almost always, the foot-print
+of a beast of prey near it.</q> He
+regained, however, his usual cheerfulness
+before we parted, and fixed the following
+evening for an excursion, on the other side
+of the ravine, to a point, looking, he said,
+<q>towards that northern region of the desert,
+<pb n="287"/><anchor id="Pg287"/>where the hosts of the Lord encamped in
+their departure out of bondage.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though, in the presence of Alethe, my
+fears, even for herself, were forgotten in
+that perpetual element of happiness, which
+encircled her like the air that she breathed,
+no sooner was I alone than vague terrors
+and bodings crowded upon me. In vain did
+I try to reason myself out of my fears by
+dwelling on the most cheering circumstances,—the
+reverence with which Melanius
+was regarded, even by the Pagans,
+and the inviolate security with which
+he had lived through the most perilous
+periods, not only safe himself, but affording
+sanctuary in his grottos to others.
+When, somewhat calmed by these considerations,
+I sunk off to sleep, dark, horrible
+dreams took possession of my mind.
+Scenes of death and of torment passed
+confusedly before me, and, when I awoke,
+it was with the fearful impression that all
+these horrors were real.
+</p>
+
+</div><div rend="page-break-before: always">
+<pb n="288"/><anchor id="Pg288"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>CHAP. XIX.</head>
+
+<p>
+At length, the day dawned,—that dreadful
+day. Impatient to be relieved from my
+suspense, I threw myself into my boat,—the
+same in which we had performed our
+happy voyage,—and, as fast as oars could
+speed me, hurried away to the city. I
+found the suburbs silent and solitary, but,
+as I approached the Forum, loud yells,
+like those of barbarians in combat, struck
+on my ear, and, when I entered it,—great
+God, what a spectacle presented itself!
+The imperial edict against the Christians
+had arrived during the night, and already
+the wild fury of bigotry was let loose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Under a canopy, in the middle of the
+Forum, was the tribunal of the Governor.
+Two statues, one of Apollo, the other of
+Osiris, stood at the bottom of the steps
+that led up to his judgment-seat. Before
+<pb n="289"/><anchor id="Pg289"/>these idols were shrines, to which the devoted
+Christians were dragged from all
+quarters by the soldiers and mob, and there
+compelled to recant, by throwing incense
+into the flame, or, on their refusal, hurried
+away to torture and death. It was an
+appalling scene;—the consternation, the
+cries of some of the victims,—the pale,
+silent resolution of others;—the fierce
+shouts of laughter that broke from the
+multitude, when the frankincense, dropped
+on the altar, proclaimed some denier
+of Christ; and the fiend-like triumph with
+which the courageous Confessors, who
+avowed their faith, were led away to the
+flames;—never could I have conceived
+such an assemblage of horrors!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Though I gazed but for a few minutes,
+in those minutes I felt enough for years.
+Already did the form of Alethe flit
+before me through that tumult;—I
+heard them shout her name;—her shriek
+fell on my ear; and the very thought so
+<pb n="290"/><anchor id="Pg290"/>palsied me with terror, that I stood fixed
+and statue-like on the spot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Recollecting, however, the fearful preciousness
+of every moment, and that—perhaps,
+at this very instant—some emissaries
+of blood might be on their way to the
+grottos, I rushed wildly out of the Forum,
+and made my way to the quay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The streets were now crowded; but I
+ran headlong through the multitude, and
+was already under the portico leading
+down to the river,—already saw the boat
+that was to bear me to Alethe,—when a Centurion
+stood sternly in my path, and I was
+surrounded and arrested by soldiers! It
+was in vain that I implored, that I struggled
+with them as for life, assuring them
+that I was a stranger,—that I was an
+Athenian,—that I was—<hi rend="italic">not</hi> a Christian.
+The precipitation of my flight was sufficient
+evidence against me, and unrelentingly,
+and by force, they bore me away to
+the quarters of their Chief.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="291"/><anchor id="Pg291"/>
+
+<p>
+It was enough to drive me to madness!
+Two hours, two frightful hours, was I
+kept waiting the arrival of the Tribune
+of their Legion<note place="foot">A rank, resembling that of Colonel.</note>,—my brain burning
+with a thousand fears and imaginations,
+which every passing minute made more
+likely to be realised. Every thing,
+too, that I could collect from the conversations
+around me but added to the
+agonising apprehensions with which I was
+racked. Troops, it was said, had been
+sent in all directions through the neighbourhood,
+to bring in the rebellious Christians,
+and make them bow before the
+Gods of the Empire. With horror, too,
+I heard of Orcus,—Orcus, the High
+Priest of Memphis,—as one of the
+principal instigators of this sanguinary
+edict, and as here present in Antinoë,
+animating and directing its execution.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this state of torture I remained till
+<pb n="292"/><anchor id="Pg292"/>the arrival of the Tribune. Absorbed in
+my own thoughts, I had not perceived his
+entrance;—till, hearing a voice, in a tone
+of friendly surprise, exclaim, <q>Alciphron!</q>
+I looked up, and in this legionary Chief
+recognised a young Roman of rank, who
+had held a military command, the year
+before, at Athens, and was one of the
+most distinguished visitors of the Garden.
+It was no time, however, for courtesies;—he
+was proceeding with cordiality
+to greet me, but, having heard him
+order my instant release, I could wait for
+no more. Acknowledging his kindness
+but by a grasp of the hand, I flew off, like
+one frantic, through the streets, and, in
+a few minutes, was on the river.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My sole hope had been to reach the
+grottos before any of the detached parties
+should arrive, and, by a timely flight across
+the desert, rescue, at least, Alethe from
+their fury. The ill-fated delay that had
+occurred rendered this hope almost
+de<pb n="293"/><anchor id="Pg293"/>sperate; but the tranquillity I found every
+where as I proceeded down the river, and
+the fond confidence I still cherished in the
+sacredness of the Hermit’s retreat, kept
+my heart from giving way altogether under
+its terrors.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Between the current and my oars, the
+boat flew, like wind, along the waters; and
+I was already near the rocks of the ravine,
+when I saw, turning out of the canal into
+the river, a barge crowded with people,
+and glittering with arms! How did I ever
+survive the shock of that sight? The oars
+dropped, as if struck out of my hands, into
+the water, and I sat, helplessly gazing, as
+that terrific vision approached. In a few
+minutes, the current brought us together;—and
+I saw, on the deck of the barge,
+Alethe and the Hermit surrounded by
+soldiers!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were already passing each other
+when, with a desperate effort, I sprang
+from my boat and lighted upon the edge
+of their vessel. I knew not what I did, for
+<pb n="294"/><anchor id="Pg294"/>despair was my only prompter. Snatching
+at the sword of one of the soldiers, as
+I stood tottering on the edge, I had succeeded
+in wresting it out of his hands,
+when, at the same moment, I received
+a thrust of a lance from one of his comrades,
+and fell backward into the river.
+I can just remember rising again and
+making a grasp at the side of the vessel;—but
+the shock, the faintness from
+my wound, deprived me of all consciousness,
+and a shriek from Alethe, as I sunk,
+is all I can recollect of what followed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Would I had then died!—Yet, no,
+Almighty Being,—I should have died in
+darkness, and I have lived to know Thee!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On returning to my senses, I found
+myself reclined on a couch, in a splendid
+apartment, the whole appearance of which
+being Grecian, I, for a moment, forgot
+all that had passed, and imagined myself
+in my own home at Athens. But too
+soon the whole dreadful certainty flashed
+upon me; and, starting wildly—disa<pb n="295"/><anchor id="Pg295"/>bled as I was—from my couch, I called
+loudly, and with the shriek of a maniac,
+on Alethe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was in the house, I found, of my
+friend and disciple, the young Tribune,
+who had made the Governor acquainted
+with my name and condition, and had received
+me under his roof, when brought,
+bleeding and insensible, to Antinoë. From
+him I now learned at once,—for I could
+not wait for details,—the sum of all that
+had happened in that dreadful interval.
+Melanius was no more,—Alethe, still
+alive, but in prison!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Take me to her</q>—I had but time to
+say—<q>take me to her instantly, and let
+me die by her side,</q>—when, nature again
+failing under such shocks, I relapsed into
+insensibility. In this state I continued for
+near an hour, and, on recovering, found the
+Tribune by my side. The horrors, he said,
+of the Forum were, for that day, over,—but
+what the morrow might bring, he shuddered
+to contemplate. His nature, it was
+<pb n="296"/><anchor id="Pg296"/>plain, revolted from the inhuman duties
+in which he was engaged. Touched
+by the agonies he saw me suffer, he,
+in some degree, relieved them, by promising
+that I should, at night-fall, be conveyed
+to the prison, and, if possible, through
+his influence, gain access to Alethe. She
+might yet, he added, be saved, could I
+succeed in persuading her to comply
+with the terms of the edict, and make
+sacrifice to the Gods.—<q>Otherwise,</q>
+said he, <q>there is no hope;—the vindictive
+Orcus, who has resisted even this
+short respite of mercy, will, to-morrow, inexorably
+demand his prey.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He then related to me, at my own request,—though
+every word was torture,—all
+the harrowing details of the proceeding
+before the Tribunal. <q>I have
+seen courage,</q> said he, <q>in its noblest
+forms, in the field; but the calm intrepidity
+with which that aged Hermit endured
+torments—which it was hardly
+less torment to witness—surpassed all
+<pb n="297"/><anchor id="Pg297"/>that I could have conceived of human
+fortitude!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My poor Alethe, too,—in describing
+to me her conduct, the brave man wept
+like a child. Overwhelmed, he said, at
+first by her apprehensions for my safety,
+she had given way to a full burst of womanly
+weakness. But no sooner was she
+brought before the Tribunal, and the declaration
+of her faith was demanded of her,
+than a spirit almost supernatural seemed
+to animate her whole form. <q>She raised
+her eyes,</q> said he, <q>calmly, but with fervour,
+to heaven, while a blush was the only
+sign of mortal feeling on her features;—and
+the clear, sweet, and untrembling voice,
+with which she pronounced her dooming
+words, <q>I am a Christian!</q> sent a thrill of
+admiration and pity throughout the multitude.
+Her youth, her loveliness, affected
+all hearts, and a cry of <q>Save the young
+maiden!</q> was heard in all directions.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The implacable Orcus, however, would
+<pb n="298"/><anchor id="Pg298"/>not hear of mercy. Resenting, as it
+appeared, with all his deadliest rancour,
+not only her own escape from his toils,
+but the aid with which, so fatally to his
+views, she had assisted mine, he demanded
+loudly, and in the name of the
+insulted sanctuary of Isis, her instant
+death. It was but by the firm intervention
+of the Governor, who shared the general
+sympathy in her fate, that the delay of
+another day was accorded, to give a chance
+to the young maiden of yet recalling her
+confession, and thus affording some pretext
+for saving her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Even in yielding reluctantly to this
+brief respite, the inhuman Priest would
+accompany it with some mark of his
+vengeance. Whether for the pleasure
+(observed the Tribune) of mingling mockery
+with his cruelty, or as a warning to her
+of the doom she must ultimately expect,
+he gave orders that there should be tied
+round her brow one of those chaplets of
+<pb n="299"/><anchor id="Pg299"/>coral<note place="foot"><q>Une de ces couronnes de grain de corail, dont
+les vierges martyres ornoient leurs cheveaux en allant
+à la mort.</q> <hi rend="italic">Les Martyrs.</hi></note>, with which it is the custom of
+young Christian maidens to array themselves
+on the day of their martyrdom;—<q>and,
+thus fearfully adorned,</q> said he,
+<q>she was led away, amid the gaze of the
+pitying multitude, to prison.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With these details the short interval
+till night-fall,—every minute of which
+seemed an age,—was occupied. As soon
+as it grew dark, I was placed upon a
+litter,—my wound, though not dangerous,
+requiring such a conveyance,—and conducted,
+under the guidance of my friend,
+to the prison. Through his interest with
+the guard, we were without difficulty admitted,
+and I was borne into the chamber
+where the maiden lay immured. Even the
+veteran guardian of the place seemed
+touched with compassion for his prisoner,
+and supposing her to be asleep, had the
+litter placed gently near her.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="300"/><anchor id="Pg300"/>
+
+<p>
+She was half reclining, with her face
+hid in her hands, upon a couch,—at the
+foot of which stood an idol, over whose
+hideous features a lamp of naptha, hanging
+from the ceiling, shed a wild and ghastly
+glare. On a table before the image stood
+a censer, with a small vessel of incense
+beside it,—one grain of which, thrown
+voluntarily into the flame, would, even
+now, save that precious life. So strange,
+so fearful was the whole scene, that I
+almost doubted its reality. Alethe! my
+own, happy Alethe! <hi rend="italic">can</hi> it, I thought, be
+thou that I look upon?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She now, slowly and with difficulty,
+raised her head from the couch; on observing
+which, the kind Tribune withdrew,
+and we were left alone. There was
+a paleness, as of death, over her features;
+and those eyes, which when last I saw
+them, were but too bright, too happy
+for this world, looked dim and sunken.
+In raising herself up, she put her hand,
+as if from pain, to her forehead, whose
+<pb n="301"/><anchor id="Pg301"/>marble hue but appeared more death-like
+from those red bands that lay so awfully
+across it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After wandering vaguely for a minute,
+her eyes rested upon me,—and, with a
+shriek, half terror, half joy, she sprung
+from the couch, and sunk upon her knees
+by my side. She had believed me dead;
+and, even now, scarcely trusted her
+senses. <q>My husband! my love!</q> she
+exclaimed; <q>oh, if thou comest to call me
+from this world, behold I am ready!</q>
+In saying thus, she pointed wildly to that
+ominous wreath, and then dropped her
+head down upon my knee, as if an arrow
+had pierced it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>Alethe!</q>—I cried, terrified to the
+very soul by that mysterious pang,—and
+the sound of my voice seemed to reanimate
+her;—she looked up, with a
+faint smile, in my face. Her thoughts,
+which had evidently been wandering, became
+collected; and in her joy at my
+safety, her sorrow at my suffering, she
+<pb n="302"/><anchor id="Pg302"/>forgot wholly the fate that impended over
+herself. Love, innocent love, alone occupied
+all her thoughts; and the tenderness
+with which she spoke,—oh, at any other
+moment, how I would have listened, have
+lingered upon, have blessed every word!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the time flew fast—the dreadful
+morrow was approaching. Already I saw
+her writhing in the hands of the torturer,—the
+flames, the racks, the wheels were
+before my eyes! Half frantic with the fear
+that her resolution was fixed, I flung myself
+from the litter, in an agony of weeping, and
+supplicated her, by the love she bore me,
+by the happiness that awaited us, by her
+own merciful God, who was too good to
+require such a sacrifice,—by all that the
+most passionate anxiety could dictate, I
+implored that she would avert from us the
+doom that was coming, and—but for once—comply
+with the vain ceremony demanded
+of her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Shrinking from me, as I spoke,—but
+with a look more of sorrow than
+reproach,<pb n="303"/><anchor id="Pg303"/>—<q>What, thou, too!</q> she said mournfully,—<q rend="post: none">thou,
+into whose spirit I had
+fondly hoped the same heavenly truth
+had descended as into my own! Oh,
+be not thou leagued with those who
+would tempt me to <q>make shipwreck
+of my faith!</q> Thou, who couldst alone
+bind me to life, use not thy power;
+but let me die, as He I serve hath
+commanded,—die for the Truth. Remember
+the holy lessons we heard on
+those nights, those happy nights, when
+both the Present and Future smiled
+upon us,—when even the gift of eternal
+life came more welcome to my soul, from
+the blessed conviction that thou wert to
+be a sharer in it;—shall I forfeit now
+that divine privilege? shall I deny the
+true God, whom we then learned to love?</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>No, my own betrothed,</q> she continued,—pointing
+to the two rings on
+her finger,—<q>behold these pledges,—they
+are both sacred. I should have been
+as true to thee as I am now to
+heaven,—<pb n="304"/><anchor id="Pg304"/>nor in that life to which I am hastening
+shall our love be forgotten. Should the
+baptism of fire, through which I shall pass
+to-morrow, make me worthy to be heard
+before the Throne of Grace, I will intercede
+for thy soul—I will pray that it
+may yet share with mine that <q>inheritance,
+immortal and undefiled,</q> which
+Mercy offers, and that thou,—my dear
+mother,—and I—</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She here dropped her voice; the momentary
+animation, with which devotion
+and affection had inspired her, vanished;—and
+a darkness overspread all her features,
+a livid darkness,—like the coming of death—that
+made me shudder through every
+limb. Seizing my hand convulsively, and
+looking at me with a fearful eagerness, as if
+anxious to hear some consoling assurance
+from my own lips,—<q>Believe me,</q> she
+continued, <q>not all the torments they are
+preparing for me,—not even this deep,
+burning pain in my brow, which they
+will hardly equal,—could be half so
+<pb n="305"/><anchor id="Pg305"/>dreadful to me, as the thought that I
+leave thee—</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, her voice again failed; her head
+sunk upon my arm, and—merciful God,
+let me forget what I then felt,—I
+saw that she was dying! Whether I
+uttered any cry, I know not;—but the
+Tribune came rushing into the chamber,
+and, looking on the maiden, said, with a
+face full of horror, <q>It is but too true!</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He then told me in a low voice, what
+he had just learned from the guardian of
+the prison, that the band round the young
+Christian’s brow was—oh horrible cruelty!—a
+compound of the most deadly
+poison,—the hellish invention of Orcus,
+to satiate his vengeance, and make the fate
+of his poor victim secure. My first movement
+was to untie that fatal wreath,—but
+it would not come away—it would not
+come away!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Roused by the pain, she again looked
+in my face; but, unable to speak, took hastily
+from her bosom the small silver cross
+<pb n="306"/><anchor id="Pg306"/>which she had brought with her from my
+cave. Having prest it to her own lips,
+she held it anxiously to mine, and seeing
+me kiss the holy symbol with fervour,
+looked happy, and smiled. The agony of
+death seemed to have passed away;—there
+came suddenly over her features a
+heavenly light, some share of which I felt
+descending into my own soul, and, in a
+few minutes more, she expired in my
+arms.
+</p>
+
+<milestone unit="tb" rend="rule: 50%"/>
+
+<p>
+<hi rend="italic">Here ends the Manuscript; but, on the
+outer cover there is, in the hand-writing
+of a much later period, the following
+Notice, extracted, as it appears, from
+some Egyptian martyrology:—</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q rend="post: none">Alciphron,—an Epicurean philosopher,
+converted to Christianity <hi rend="small">A. D.</hi> 257,
+by a young Egyptian maiden, who suffered
+martyrdom in that year. Immediately
+upon her death he betook himself to the
+desert, and lived a life, it is said, of much
+<pb n="307"/><anchor id="Pg307"/>holiness and penitence. During the persecution
+under Dioclesian, his sufferings
+for the faith were most exemplary; and,
+being at length, at an advanced age, condemned
+to hard labour, for refusing to
+comply with an Imperial edict, he died
+at the brass mines of Palestine, <hi rend="small">A. D.</hi> 297.—</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+<q>As Alciphron held the opinions maintained
+since by Arius, his memory has not
+been spared by Athanasian writers, who,
+among other charges, accuse him of having
+been addicted to the superstitions of
+Egypt. For this calumny, however, there
+appears to be no better foundation than
+a circumstance, recorded by one of his
+brother monks, that there was found,
+after his death, a small metal mirror, like
+those used in the ceremonies of Isis, suspended
+round his neck.</q>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="308"/><anchor id="Pg308"/>
+
+        </div></body>
+        <back rend="page-break-before: right">
+<div>
+<pb n="309"/><anchor id="Pg309"/>
+<index index="toc"/><index index="pdf"/>
+<head>NOTES.</head>
+
+<p>
+<ref target="Pg017">Page 17</ref>.—For the importance attached to dreams by
+the ancients, see <hi rend="italic">Jortin</hi>, Remarks on Ecclesiastical History,
+vol. 1. p. 90.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg022">Page 22</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The Pillar of Pillars</hi></q>—more properly,
+perhaps, <q>the column of the pillars.</q> v. <hi rend="italic">Abdallatif</hi>, Relation
+de l’Egypte, and the notes of <hi rend="italic">M. de Sacy</hi>. The
+great portico round this column (formerly designated
+Pompey’s, but now known to have been erected in honour
+of Dioclesian) was still standing, M. de Sacy says,
+in the time of Saladin. v. <hi rend="italic">Lord Valentia’s Travels</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg023">Page 23</ref>.—Ammianus thus speaks of the state of
+Alexandria in his time, which was, I believe, as late as
+the end of the fourth century:—<q>Ne nunc quidem in
+eadem urbe Doctrinæ variæ silent, non apud nos exaruit
+Musica nec Harmonia conticuit.</q> Lib. 22.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg025">Page 25</ref>.—From the character of the features of the
+Sphinx, and a passage in Herodotus, describing the
+Egyptians as <foreign lang="grc">μελαγχροες και ουλοτρικες</foreign>, Volney, Bruce,
+and a few others, have concluded that the ancient inhabitants
+of Egypt were negroes. But this opinion is contradicted
+by a host of authorities. See <hi rend="italic">Castera</hi>’s notes upon
+<pb n="310"/><anchor id="Pg310"/><hi rend="italic">Browne’s Travels</hi>, for the result of Blumenbach’s dissection
+of a variety of mummies. Denon, speaking of the
+character of the heads represented in the ancient sculpture
+and painting of Egypt, says, <q>Celle des femmes ressemble
+encore à la figure des jolies femmes d’aujourd’hui:
+de la rondeur, de la volupté, le nez petit, les yeux longs,
+peu ouverts,</q> &amp;c. &amp;c. He could judge, too, he says,
+from the female mummies, <q>que leurs cheveux étoient
+longs et lisses, que le caractère de tête de la plupart
+tenoit du beau style</q>—<q>Je raportai,</q> he adds, <q>une tête
+de vieille femme qui étoit aussi belle que celles de Michel
+Ange, et leur ressembloit beaucoup.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a <q><hi rend="italic">Description générale de Thèbes</hi></q> by <hi rend="italic">Messrs.
+Jollois et Desvilliers</hi>, they say, <q>Toutes les sculptures
+Egyptiennes, depuis les plus grands colosses de Thèbes
+jusqu’aux plus petites idoles, ne rappellent en aucune manière
+les traits de la figure des nègres; outre que les têtes
+des momies des catacombs de Thèbes presentent des
+profils droits.</q> See also <hi rend="italic">M. Jomard</hi>’s <q>Description of
+Syene and the Cataracts,</q> <hi rend="italic">Baron Larrey</hi>, on the
+<q>conformation physique</q> of the Egyptians, &amp;c.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+De Pauw, the great depreciator of every thing Egyptian,
+has, on the authority of a passage in Ælian, presumed
+to affix to the countrywomen of Cleopatra the stigma of
+complete and unredeemed ugliness. The following line
+of Euripides, however, is an answer to such charges:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l><foreign lang="grc">Νειλου μεν αἱδε καλλιπαρθενοι ροαι.</foreign></l>
+</lg>
+
+<p>
+In addition to the celebrated instances of Cleopatra,
+Rhodope, &amp;c. we are told, on the authority of Manetho
+(as given by Zoega from Georgius Syncellus), of a beautiful
+queen of Memphis, Nitocris, of the sixth dynasty,
+who, in addition to other charms and perfections, was
+(rather inconsistently with the negro hypothesis) <foreign lang="grc">ξανθη την χροιαν</foreign>.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="311"/><anchor id="Pg311"/>
+
+<p>
+See, for a tribute to the beauty of the Egyptian women,
+Montesquieu’s Temple de Gnide.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg035">Page 35</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Among beds of lotus flowers.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Strabo</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg036">Page 36</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Isle of the golden Venus.</hi></q>—<q>On trouve
+une île appelée Venus-Dorée, ou le champ d’or, avant de
+remonter jusqu’à Memphis.</q> <hi rend="italic">Voyages de Pythagore.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg039">Page 39</ref>.—For an account of the Table of Emerald,
+v. <hi rend="italic">Lettres sur l’Origine des Dieux d’Egypte</hi>. <hi rend="italic">De Pauw</hi>
+supposes it to be a modern fiction of the Arabs. Many
+writers have fancied that the art of making gold was
+the great secret that lay hid under the forms of Egyptian
+theology. <q>La science Hermétique,</q> says the Benedictine,
+Pernetz, <q>l’art sacerdotal étoit la source de toutes
+les richesses des Rois d’Egypte, et l’objet de ces mystères
+si cachés sous le voile du leur pretendu Religion.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Fables Egyptiennes.</hi> The hieroglyphs, that formerly covered
+the Pyramids, are supposed by some of these writers
+to relate to the same art. See <hi rend="italic">Mutus liber, Rupellæ</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg040">Page 40</ref>.—<q>By reflecting the sun’s rays,</q> says <hi rend="italic">Clarke</hi>,
+speaking of the Pyramids, <q>they appeared white as snow.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg041">Page 41</ref>.—For Bubastis, the Diana of the Egyptians,
+v. <hi rend="italic">Jablonski</hi>, lib. 3. c. 4.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg043">Page 43</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The light coracle</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—v. <hi rend="italic">Amuilhon</hi>,
+<q><hi rend="italic">Histoire de la Navigation et du Commerce des Egyptiens
+sous les Ptolemées</hi>.</q> See also, for a description of
+the various kinds of boats used on the Nile, <hi rend="italic">Maillet</hi>,
+tom. i. p. 98.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg044">Page 44</ref>.—v. <hi rend="italic">Maurice</hi>, Appendix to <q>Ruins of
+Ba<pb n="312"/><anchor id="Pg312"/>bylon.</q> Another reason, he says, for their worship of
+the Ibis, <q>founded on their love of geometry, was (according
+to Plutarch) that the space between its legs,
+when parted asunder, as it walks, together with its beak,
+forms a complete equilateral triangle.</q> From the examination
+of the embalmed birds, found in the Catacombs
+of Saccara, there seems to be no doubt that the Ibis
+was the same kind of bird as that described by Bruce,
+under the Arabian name of Abou Hannes.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg044">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">The sistrum</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Isis est genius,</q> says
+<hi rend="italic">Servius</hi>, <q>Ægypti, qui per sistri motum, quod gerit in
+dextra, Nili accessus recessusque significat.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg048">Page 48</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The ivy encircled it</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—The ivy
+was consecrated to Osiris. v. <hi rend="italic">Diodor. Sic.</hi> 1. 10.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg048">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">The small mirror.</hi></q>—<q>Quelques unes,</q> says
+<hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi>, describing the processions of Isis, <q>portoient
+des miroirs attachés à leurs épaules, afin de multiplier et
+de porter dans tous les sens les images de la Déesse.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Origine des Cultes</hi>, tom. 8. p. 847. A mirror, it appears,
+was also one of the emblems in the mysteries of Bacchus.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg049">Page 49</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic"><anchor id="corr312"/><corr sic="(quote mark missing)">There</corr> is, to the north of Memphis</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Tout
+prouve que la territoire de Sakkarah étoit la
+Necropolis au sud de Memphis, et le faubourg opposé à
+celui-ci, où sont les pyramides de Gizeh, une autre Ville
+des Morts, qui terminoit Memphis au nord.</q> <hi rend="italic">Denon.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is nothing known with certainty as to the site
+of Memphis, but it will be perceived that the description
+of its position given by the Epicurean corresponds, in
+almost every particular, with that which M. Maillet (the
+French consul, for many years, at Cairo) has left us. It
+must be always borne in mind, too, that of the
+dis<pb n="313"/><anchor id="Pg313"/>tances between the respective places here mentioned,
+we have no longer any accurate means of judging.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2"><!-- Verweis auf S. 51! -->
+<ref target="Pg051">Page 49</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Pyramid beyond pyramid.</hi></q>—<q>Multas
+olim pyramidas fuisse e ruinis arguitur.</q> <hi rend="italic">Zoega.</hi>—<hi rend="italic">Vansleb</hi>,
+who visited more than ten of the small pyramids,
+is of opinion that there must have originally been a
+hundred in this place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+See, for the lake to the northward of Memphis,
+<hi rend="italic">Shaw’s Travels</hi>, p. 302.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg057">Page 57</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The Theban beetle.</hi></q>—<q>On voit en
+Egypte, après la retraite du Nil et la fécondation des
+terres, le limon couvert d’une multitude de scarabées.
+Un pareil phénomène a dû sembler aux Egyptiens le
+plus propre à peindre une nouvelle existence.</q> <hi rend="italic">M.
+Jomard.</hi>—Partly for the same reason, and partly for
+another, still more fanciful, the early Christians used to
+apply this emblem to Christ. <q>Bonus ille scarabæus
+meus,</q> says St. Augustine <q>non eâ tantum de
+causâ quod unigenitus, quod ipsemet sui auctor mortalium
+speciem induerit, sed quod in hac nostrâ fæce
+sese volutaverit et ex hac ipsa nasci voluerit.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg057">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Enshrined within a case of crystal.</hi></q>—<q>Les
+Egyptiens ont fait aussi, pour conserver leurs morts, des
+caisses de verre.</q> <hi rend="italic">De Pauw.</hi>—He mentions, in another
+place, a sort of transparent substance, which the Ethiopians
+used for the same purpose, and which was frequently
+mistaken by the Greeks for glass.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg058">Page 58</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Among the emblems of death.</hi></q>—<q>Un
+prêtre, qui brise la tige d’une fleur, des oiseaux qui
+<pb n="314"/><anchor id="Pg314"/>s’envolent sont les emblemes de la morte et de l’âme qui
+se sépare du corps.</q> <hi rend="italic">Denon.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Theseus employs the same image in the Phædra:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l><foreign lang="grc">Ορνις γαρ ὡς τις εκ χερων αφαντος ει</foreign></l>
+<l><foreign lang="grc">Πηδημ’ ες ἁδου πικρον ὁρμησασα μοι.</foreign></l>
+</lg>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg059">Page 59</ref>.—<q>The singular appearance of a Cross so
+frequently recurring among the hieroglyphics of Egypt,
+had excited the curiosity of the Christians at a very early
+period of ecclesiastical history; and as some of the
+Priests, who were acquainted with the meaning of the
+hieroglyphics, became converted to Christianity the secret
+transpired. <q>The converted heathens,</q> says Socrates
+Scholasticus, <q>explained the symbol, and declared that it
+signified Life to Come.</q></q> <hi rend="italic">Clarke.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lipsius, therefore, erroneously supposes the Cross to
+have been an emblem peculiar to the Christians. See, on
+this subject, <hi rend="italic">L’Histoire des Juifs</hi>, liv. 9. c. 16.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is singular enough that while the Cross was held
+sacred among the Egyptians, not only the custom of
+marking the forehead with the sign of the Cross, but
+Baptism and the consecration of the bread in the Eucharist
+were imitated in the mysterious ceremonies of
+Mithra. <hi rend="italic">Tertull. de Proscriptione Hereticorum.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Zoega is of opinion that the Cross found (for the first
+time, it is said) on the destruction of the temple of Serapis,
+by the Christians, could have not been the crux ansata;
+as nothing is more common than this emblem on all the
+Egyptian monuments.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg062">Page 62</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Stood shadowless.</hi></q>—It was an idea
+entertained among the ancients that the Pyramids were
+so constructed (<q>mecanicâ constructione,</q> says <hi rend="italic">Ammianus
+Marcellinus</hi>) as never to cast any shadow.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="315"/><anchor id="Pg315"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg064">Page 64</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Rhodope.</hi></q>—From the story of Rhodope,
+Zoega thinks, <q>videntur Arabes ansam arripuisse
+ut in una ex pyramidibus, genii loco, habitare dicerent
+mulierem nudam insignis pulchritudinis quæ aspectu suo
+homines insanire faciat.</q> <hi rend="italic">De Usu Obeliscorum.</hi> See
+also <hi rend="italic">L’Egypte de Murtadi par Vattier</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg066">Page 66</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The Gates of Oblivion.</hi></q>—<q>Apud Memphim
+æneas quasdam portas, quæ Lethes et Cocyti (hoc
+est oblivionis et lamentationis) appellenter aperiri, gravem
+asperumque edentes sonum.</q> <hi rend="italic">Zoega.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg069">Page 69</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A pile of lifeless bodies.</hi></q>—See, for the
+custom of burying the dead upright (<q>post funus stantia
+busto corpora,</q> as Statius describes it), Dr. Clarke’s preface
+to the 2d section of his fifth volume. They used to
+insert precious stones in the place of the eyes. <q>Les yeux
+étoient formés d’émeraudes, de turquoises,</q> &amp;c.—v.
+<hi rend="italic">Masoudy</hi>, quoted by <hi rend="italic">Quatremere</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg072">Page 72</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">It seemed as if every echo.</hi></q>—See, for
+the echoes in the pyramids, <hi rend="italic">Plutarch, de Placitis Philosoph.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg074">Page 74</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Pale phantom-like shapes.</hi></q>—<q>Ce moment
+heureux (de l’Autopsie) étoit preparé par des scènes
+effrayantes, par des alternatives de crainte et de joie, de
+lumière et des ténèbres, par la lueur des éclairs, par
+le bruit terrible de la foudre, qu’on imitoit, et par des
+apparitions de spectres, des illusions magiques, qui frappoient
+les yeux et les oreilles tout ensemble.</q> <hi rend="italic">Dupuis.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg077">Page 77</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Serpents of fire.</hi></q>—<q>Ces considérations
+me portent à penser que, dans les mystères, ces
+phéno<pb n="316"/><anchor id="Pg316"/>mènes étoient beaucoup mieux exécutées et sans comparison
+plus terribles à l’aide de quelque composition
+pyrique, qui est restée cachée, comme celle du feu
+Grégeois.</q> <hi rend="italic">De Pauw.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg078">Page 78</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The burning of the reed-beds of Ethiopia.</hi></q>—<q>Il
+n’y a point d’autre moyen que de porter le
+feu dans ces forêts de roseaux, qui répandent alors dans
+tout le païs une lumière aussi considérable que celle du
+jour même.</q> <hi rend="italic">Maillet</hi>, tom. 1. p. 63.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg079">Page 79</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The sound of torrents.</hi></q>—The Nile,
+<hi rend="italic">Pliny</hi> tells us, was admitted into the Pyramid.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg081">Page 81</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">I had almost given myself up.</hi></q>—<q>On
+exerçoit,</q> says <hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi>, <q>les recipiendaires, pendant
+plusieurs jours, à traverser, à la nage, une grande étendue
+d’eau. On les y jettoit et ce n’étoit que avec peine qu’
+ils s’en retiroient. On appliquoit le fer et le feu sur leurs
+membres. On les faisoit passer à travers les flammes.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The aspirants were often in considerable danger, and
+Pythagoras, we are told, nearly lost his life in the trials.
+v. <hi rend="italic">Recherches sur les Initiations, par Robin</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg090">Page 90</ref>.—For the two cups used in the mysteries,
+see <hi rend="italic">L’Histoire des Juifs</hi>, liv. 9. c. 16.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg090">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Osiris.</hi></q>—Osiris, under the name of Serapis,
+was supposed to rule over the subterranean world; and
+performed the office of Pluto, in the mythology of the
+Egyptians. <q>They believed,</q> says Dr. Pritchard, <q>that
+Serapis presided over the region of departed souls, during
+the period of their absence, when languishing without
+bodies, and that the dead were deposited in his palace.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Analysis of the Egyptian Mythology.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="317"/><anchor id="Pg317"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg090">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">To cool the lips of the dead.</hi></q>—<q>Frigidam
+illam aquam post mortem, tanquam Hebes poculum, expetitam.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Zoega.</hi>—The Lethe of the Egyptians was
+called Ameles. See <hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi>, tom. 8. p. 651.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2"><!-- Verweis auf S. 91 -->
+<ref target="Pg091">Page 90</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A draught divine.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Diodor. Sicul.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg093">Page 93</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Grasshopper, symbol of initiation.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Hor.
+Apoll.</hi>—The grasshopper was also consecrated
+to the sun as being musical.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg094">Page 94</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Isle of gardens.</hi></q>—The isle Antirrhodus
+near Alexandria. <hi rend="italic">Maillet.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg094">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Vineyard at Anthylla.</hi></q>—See <hi rend="italic">Athen. Deipnos.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg097">Page 97</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">We can see those stars.</hi></q>—<q>On voyoit
+en plein jour par ces ouvertures les étoiles, et même
+quelques planètes en leur plus grande latitude septentrionale;
+et les prêtres avoient bientôt profité de ce phénomène
+pour observer à diverses heures la passage des
+étoiles.</q> <hi rend="italic">Séthos.</hi>—<hi rend="italic">Strabo</hi> mentions certain caves or pits,
+constructed for the purpose of astronomical observations,
+which lay in the Zelopolitan prefecture, beyond Heliopolis.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg098">Page 98</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A plantain.</hi></q>—This tree was dedicated
+to the Genii of the Shades, from its being an emblem of
+repose and cooling airs. <q>Cui imminet musæ folium,
+quod ab Iside infera geniisque ei addictis manu geri solitum,
+umbram requiemque et auras frigidas subindigitare
+videtur.</q> <hi rend="italic">Zoega.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg107">Page 107</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">He spoke of the preexistence of the soul</hi>,</q>
+<hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—For a full account of the doctrines which are
+here represented as having been taught to the initiated
+<pb n="318"/><anchor id="Pg318"/>in the Egyptian mysteries, the reader may consult <hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">Pritchard’s Analysis of the Egyptian Mythology</hi>,
+&amp;c. &amp;c. <q>L’on découvroit l’origine de l’ame, sa chute
+sur la terre, à travers les sphères et les élémens, et son
+retour au lieu de sa origine ... c’étoit ici la partie la
+plus métaphysique, et que ne pourroit guère entendre le
+commun des Initiés, mais dont on lui donnoit le spectacle
+par des figures et des spectres allégoriques.</q> <hi rend="italic">Dupuis.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg108">Page 108</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Those fields of radiance.</hi></q>—See <hi rend="italic">Beausobre</hi>,
+liv. 3. c. 4. for the <q>terre bienheureuse et lumineuse</q>
+which the Manicheans supposed God to inhabit.
+Plato, too, speaks (in Phæd.) of a <q>pure land lying in
+the pure sky (<foreign lang="grc">την γην καθαραν εν καθαρω κεισθαι ουρανω</foreign>),
+the abode of divinity, of innocence, and of life.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg110">Page 110</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Tracing it from the first moment of
+earthward desire.</hi></q>—In the original construction of this
+work, there was an episode introduced here, (which I
+have since published in another form,) illustrating the
+doctrine of the fall of the soul by the Oriental fable of the
+Loves of the Angels.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg111">Page 111</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Restoring her lost wings.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Damascius</hi>
+in his Life of Isidorus, says, <q>Ex antiquissimis Philosophis
+Pythagoram et Platonem Isidorus ut Deos coluit,
+et <hi rend="italic">eorum animas alatas esse</hi> dixit quas in locum supercœlestem
+inque campum veritatis et pratum elevatas, divinis
+putavit ideis pasci.</q> <hi rend="italic">Apud Phot. Bibliothec.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg112">Page 112</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A pale, moonlike meteor.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Apuleius</hi>,
+in describing the miraculous appearances exhibited in the
+mysteries, says, <q>Nocte mediâ vidi solem candido coruscantem
+lumine.</q> <hi rend="italic">Metamorphos.</hi> lib. 11.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="319"/><anchor id="Pg319"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg113">Page 113</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">So entirely did the illusion of the scene</hi>,</q>
+<hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—In tracing the early connection of spectacles
+with the ceremonies of religion, Voltaire says, <q>Il y a
+bien plus; les véritables grandes tragédies, les representations
+imposantes et terribles, étoient les mystères sacrés,
+qu’on célébroit dans les plus vastes temples du monde, en
+présence des seuls Initiés; c’étoit là que les habits, les
+décorations, les machines étoient propres au sujet; et
+le sujet étoit la vie présente et la vie future.</q> <hi rend="italic">Des
+divers changemens arrivés à l’art tragique.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To these scenic representations in the Egyptian mysteries,
+there is evidently an allusion in the vision of
+Ezekiel, where the spirit shows him the abominations
+which the Israelites learned in Egypt:—<q>Then said
+he unto me, <q>Son of man, hast thou seen what the ancients
+of the house of Israel do in the dark, every man
+in <hi rend="italic">the chambers of his imagery</hi>.</q></q> Chap. 8.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg118">Page 118</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The seven tables of stone.</hi></q>—<q>Bernard,
+Comte de la Marche Trévisane, instruit par la lecture
+des livres anciens, dit qu’ Hermes trouva sept tables dans
+la vallée d’Hebron, sur lesquelles étoient gravés les principes
+des arts liberaux.</q> <hi rend="italic">Fables Egyptiennes.</hi> See <hi rend="italic">Jablonski
+de stelis Herm.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg119">Page 119</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Beside the goat of Mendes.</hi></q>—For an
+account of the animal worship of the Egyptians, see <hi rend="italic">De
+Pauw</hi>, tom. 2.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg119">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">The Isiac serpents.</hi></q>—<q>On auguroit bien
+des serpens Isiaques, lorsqu’ils goutoient l’offrande et se
+trainoient lentement autour de l’autel.</q> <hi rend="italic">De Pauw.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg121">Page 121</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Hence the festivals and hymns</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—For
+an account of the various festivals at the different periods
+<pb n="320"/><anchor id="Pg320"/>of the sun’s progress, in the spring, and in the autumn,
+see <hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi> and <hi rend="italic">Pritchard</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg121">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">The mysteries of the night.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Athenag.
+Leg. pro Christ.</hi> p. 133.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg125">Page 125</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A peal like that of thunder.</hi></q>—See, for
+some curious remarks on the mode of imitating thunder
+and lightning in the ancient mysteries, <hi rend="italic">De Pauw</hi>, tom. 1.
+p. 323. The machine with which these effects were produced
+on the stage was called a ceraunoscope.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg131">Page 131</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Windings, capriciously intricate.</hi></q>—In
+addition to the accounts which the ancients have left us
+of the prodigious excavations in all parts of Egypt,—the
+fifteen hundred chambers under the Labyrinth—the subterranean
+stables of the Thebaïd, containing a thousand
+horses—the crypts of Upper Egypt passing under the
+bed of the Nile, &amp;c. &amp;c.—the stories and traditions
+current among the Arabs still preserve the memory of
+those wonderful substructions. <q>Un Arabe,</q> says Paul
+Lucas, <q>qui étoit avec nous, m’assura qu’étant entré
+autrefois dans le Labyrinthe, il avoit marché dans les
+chambres souterraines jusqu’en un lieu où il y avoit une
+grande place environnée de plusieurs niches qui ressembloit
+à de petites boutiques, d’où l’on entroit dans d’autres
+allées et dans des chambres, sans pouvoir en trouver la
+fin.</q> In speaking, too, of the arcades along the Nile,
+near Cosseir, <q>Ils me dirent même que ces souterrains
+étoient si profondes qu’il y en avoient qui alloient à trois
+journées de là, et qu’ils conduisoient dans un pays où
+l’on voyoit de beaux jardins, qu’on y trouvoit de belles
+maisons,</q> &amp;c. &amp;c.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+See also in <hi rend="italic">M. Quatremere’s Memoires sur l’Egypte</hi>,
+tom. 1. p. 142., an account of a subterranean reservoir,
+<pb n="321"/><anchor id="Pg321"/>said to have been discovered at Kaïs, and of the expedition
+undertaken by a party of persons, in a long narrow
+boat, for the purpose of exploring it. <q>Leur voyage
+avoit été de six jours, dont les quatre premiers furent
+employés à pénétrer les bords; les deux autres à revenir
+au lieu d’où ils étoient partis: Pendant tout cet intervalle
+ils ne purent atteindre l’extrémité du bassin. L’émir
+Ala-eddin-Tamboga, gouverneur de Behnesa, écrivit ces
+détails au sultan, qui en fut extrêmement surpris.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg136">Page 136</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A small island in the centre of Lake
+Mœris.</hi></q>—The position here given to Lake Mœris, in
+making it the immediate boundary of the city of Memphis
+to the south, corresponds exactly with the site assigned
+to it by Maillet:—<q>Memphis avoit encore à son
+midi un vaste reservoir, par où tout ce qui peut servir
+à la commodité et à l’agrément de la vie lui étoit voituré
+abondamment de toutes les parties de l’Egypte. Ce lac
+qui la terminoit de ce côté-là,</q> &amp;c. &amp;c. Tom. 2. p. 7.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg136">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Ruins rising blackly above the wave.</hi></q>—<q>On
+voit sur la rive orientale des antiquités qui sont presque
+entièrement sous les eaux.</q> <hi rend="italic">Belzoni.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg137">Page 137</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Its thundering portals.</hi></q>—<q>Quorundam
+autem domorum (in Labyrintho) talis est situs, ut
+adaperientibus foris tonitru intus terribile existat.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Pliny.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg138">Page 138</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Leaves that serve as cups.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Strabo.</hi>
+According to the French translator of Strabo, it was the
+fruit of the <hi rend="italic">faba Ægyptiaca</hi>, not the leaf, that was used for
+this purpose. <q>Le <foreign lang="grc">κιβωριον</foreign>,</q> he says, <q>devoit s’entendre
+de la capsule ou fruit de cette plante, dont les Egyptiens
+<pb n="322"/><anchor id="Pg322"/>se servoient comme d’un vase, imaginant que l’eau du
+Nil y devenoit delicieuse.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg142">Page 142</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The fish of these waters</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<hi rend="italic">Ælian</hi>,
+lib. 6. 32.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg142">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Pleasure boats or yachts.</hi></q>—Called Thalamages,
+from the pavilion on the deck. v. <hi rend="italic">Strabo</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg144">Page 144</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Covered with beds of those pale, sweet
+roses.</hi></q>—As April is the season for gathering these roses
+(See <hi rend="italic">Malte-brun’s Economical Calendar</hi>), the Epicurean
+could not, of course, mean to say that he saw them
+actually in flower.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg146">Page 146</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The lizards upon the bank.</hi></q>—<q>L’or
+et l’azur brillent en bandes longitudinales sur leur corps
+entier, et leur queue est du plus beau bleu celeste.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">Sonnini.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg147">Page 147</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The canal through which we now sailed.</hi></q>—<q>Un
+canal,</q> says <hi rend="italic">Maillet</hi>, <q>très profond et très large
+y voituroit les eaux du Nil.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg150">Page 150</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">For a draught of whose flood</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Anciennement
+on portoit les eaux du Nil jusqu’au des
+contrées fort éloignées, et surtout chez les princesses du
+sang des Ptolomées, mariées dans des families étrangères.</q>
+<hi rend="italic">De Pauw.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg154">Page 154</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Bearing each the name of its owner.</hi></q>—<q>Le
+nom du maître y étoit écrit, pendant la nuit en
+lettres de feu.</q> <hi rend="italic">Maillet.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="323"/><anchor id="Pg323"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg155">Page 155</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Cups of that frail crystal</hi></q>—called Alassontes.
+For their brittleness <hi rend="italic">Martial</hi> is an authority:—
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>Tolle, puer, calices, tepidique toreumata Nili,</l>
+<l>Et mihi securâ pocula trade manu.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg155">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Bracelets of the black beans of Abyssinia.</hi></q>—The
+bean of the Glycyne, which is so beautiful as to be
+strung into necklaces and bracelets, is generally known by
+the name of the black bean of Abyssinia. <hi rend="italic">Niebhur.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg155">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Sweet lotus-wood flute.</hi></q>—See <hi rend="italic">M. Villoteau on
+the musical instruments of the Egyptians</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg156">Page 156</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Shine like the brow of Mount Atlas at
+night.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Solinus</hi> speaks of the snowy summit of Mount
+Atlas glittering with flames at night. In the account of
+the Periplus of Hanno, as well as in that of Eudoxus, we
+read that as those navigators were coasting this part of
+Africa, torrents of light were seen to fall on the sea.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg158">Page 158</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The tears of Isis.</hi></q>—<q>Per lacrymas,
+vero, Isidis intelligo effluvia quædam Lunæ, quibus tantam
+vim videntur tribuisse Ægypti.</q> <hi rend="italic">Jablonski.</hi>—He is
+of opinion that the superstition of the <hi rend="italic">Nucta</hi>, or miraculous
+drop, is of a relic of the veneration paid to the dews,
+as the tears of Isis.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg158">Page 158</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The rustling of the acacias</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<hi rend="italic">Travels
+of Captain Mangles.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg158">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Supposed to rest in the valley of the moon.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Plutarch.</hi>
+<hi rend="italic">Dupuis</hi>, tom. 10. The Manicheans held the
+same belief. See <hi rend="italic">Beausobre</hi>, p. 565.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="324"/><anchor id="Pg324"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg160">Page 160</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Sothis, the fair star of the waters.</hi></q>—<foreign lang="grc">ὑδραγωγον</foreign>
+is the epithet applied to this star by <hi rend="italic">Plutarch</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">de Isid.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg160">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Was its birth-star.</hi></q>—<foreign lang="grc">Ἡ Σωθεως ανατολη
+γενεσεως καταρχουσα της εις τον κοσμον</foreign>. <hi rend="italic">Porphyr. de
+Antro Nymph.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg168">Page 168</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Golden Mountains.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Wilford on
+Egypt and the Nile</hi>, Asiatic Researches.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg168">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Sweet-smelling wood.</hi></q>—<q>’A l’époque de la
+crue le Nil Vert charie les planches d’un bois qui a une
+odeur semblable à celle de l’encens.</q> <hi rend="italic">Quatremere.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg169">Page 169</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Barges full of bees.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Maillet.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg170">Page 170</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Such a profusion of the white flowers</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>On
+les voit comme jadis cueillir dans les champs des
+tiges du lotus, signes du débordement et présages de
+l’abondance; ils s’enveloppent les bras et le corps avec les
+longues tiges fleuries, et parcourent les rues,</q> &amp;c. <hi rend="italic">Description
+des Tombeaux des Rois, par M. Costaz.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg173">Page 173</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">While composing his commentary on
+the scriptures.</hi></q>—It was during the composition of his
+great critical work, the Hexapla, that Origen employed
+these female scribes.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg176">Page 176</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">That rich tapestry</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<lg>
+<l>Non ego prætulerim Babylonica picta superbè</l>
+<l>Texta, Semiramiâ quæ variantur acu.</l>
+</lg>
+
+<p rend="text-align: right"><hi rend="italic">Martial.</hi></p>
+
+<pb n="325"/><anchor id="Pg325"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg200">Page 200</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The Place of Weeping.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Wilford</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">Asiatic Researches</hi>, vol. 3. p. 340.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg210">Page 210</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">We had long since left this mountain behind.</hi></q>—The
+voyages on the Nile are, under favourable
+circumstances, performed with considerable rapidity.
+<q>En cinq ou six jours,</q> says <hi rend="italic">Maillet</hi>, <q>on pourroit aisément
+remonter de l’embouchure du Nil à ses cataractes,
+ou descendre des cataractes jusqu’à la mer.</q> The great
+uncertainty of the navigation is proved by what <hi rend="italic">Belzoni</hi>
+tells us:—<q>Nous ne mîmes cette fois que deux jours
+et demi pour faire le trajet du Caire à Melawi, auquel,
+dans notre second voyage, nous avions employés dix-huit
+jours.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg212">Page 212</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Those mighty statues, that fling their
+shadows.</hi></q>—<q>Elles out près de vingt mètres (61 pieds)
+d’élévation; et au lever du soleil, leurs ombres immenses
+s’étendent au loin sur la chaine Libyen.</q> <hi rend="italic">Description
+générale de Thèbes, par Messrs. Jollois et Desvilliers.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg212">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Those cool alcoves.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Paul Lucas.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg219">Page 219</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Whose waters are half sweet, half bitter.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Paul
+Lucas.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg224">Page 224</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The Mountain of the Birds.</hi></q>—There
+has been much controversy among the Arabian writers,
+with respect to the site of this mountain, for which see
+<hi rend="italic">Quatremere</hi>, tom. 1. art. <hi rend="italic">Amoun</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg230">Page 230</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The hand of labour had succeeded</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—The
+monks of Mount Sinai (<hi rend="italic">Shaw</hi> says) have covered
+over near four acres of the naked rocks with fruitful
+gardens and orchards.
+</p>
+
+<pb n="326"/><anchor id="Pg326"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg233">Page 233</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The image of a head.</hi></q>—There was
+usually, Tertullian tells us, the image of Christ on the
+communion-cups.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg233">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Kissed her forehead.</hi></q>—<q>We are rather disposed
+to infer,</q> says the present Bishop of Lincoln,
+in his very sensible work on Tertullian, <q>that, at the
+conclusion of all their meetings for the purpose of
+devotion, the early Christians were accustomed to give
+the kiss of peace, in token of the brotherly love subsisting
+between them.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg237">Page 237</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">In the middle of the seven valleys.</hi></q>—See
+Macrizy’s account of these valleys, given by Quatremere,
+tom. 1. p. 450.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg237">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Red lakes of Nitria.</hi></q>—For a striking description
+of this region, see <q><hi rend="italic">Rameses</hi>,</q>—a work
+which, though, in general, too technical and elaborate,
+shows, in many passages, to what picturesque effects the
+scenery and mythology of Egypt may be made subservient.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg238">Page 238</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">In the neighbourhood of Antinoë.</hi></q>—From
+the position assigned to Antinoë in this work, we
+should conclude that it extended much farther to the
+north, than these few ruins of it that remain would seem
+to indicate; so as to render the distance between the city
+and the Mountain of the Birds considerably less than
+what it appears to be at present.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg243">Page 243</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">When Isis, the pure star of lovers.</hi></q>—v.
+<hi rend="italic">Plutarch de Isid.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg243">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Ere she again embrace her bridegroom sun.</hi></q>—<q>Conjunctio
+solis cum luna, quod est veluti utriusque
+connubium.</q> <hi rend="italic">Jablonski.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<pb n="327"/><anchor id="Pg327"/>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg247">Page 247</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Of his walks a lion is the companion.</hi></q>—M.
+Chateaubriand has introduced Paul and his lion into
+the <q><hi rend="italic">Martyrs</hi>,</q> liv. 11.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg235">Page 235</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Come thus secretly before day-break.</hi></q>—It
+was among the accusations of Celsus against the
+Christians, that they held their assemblies privately and
+contrary to law; and one of the speakers in the curious
+work of Minucius Felix calls the Christians <q>latebrosa
+et lucifugax natio.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg256">Page 256</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">A swallow</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Je vis dans le
+desert des hirondelles d’un gris clair comme le sable sur
+lequel elles volent.</q>—<hi rend="italic">Denon.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg257">Page 257</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The comet that once desolated this
+world.</hi></q>—In alluding to Whiston’s idea of a comet having
+caused the deluge, <hi rend="italic">M. Girard</hi>, having remarked that
+the word Typhon means a deluge, adds, <q>On ne peut
+entendre par le tems du règne de Typhon que celui
+pendant lequel le déluge inonda la terre, tems pendant
+lequel on dût observer la comète qui l’occasionna, et
+dont l’apparition fut, non seulement pour les peuples
+de l’Egypte, et de l’Ethiopie, mais encore pour tous les
+peuples le présage funeste de leur destruction presque
+totale.</q> <hi rend="italic">Description de la Vallée de l’E’garement.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg259">Page 259</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">In which the spirit of my dream</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Many
+people,</q> said <hi rend="italic">Origen</hi>, <q>have been brought over
+to Christianity by the Spirit of God giving a sudden
+turn to their minds, and offering visions to them either
+by day or night.</q> On this <hi rend="italic">Jortin</hi> remarks:—<q>Why
+should it be thought improbable that Pagans of good dispositions,
+but not free from prejudices, should have been
+<pb n="328"/><anchor id="Pg328"/>called by divine admonitions, by dreams or visions, which
+might be a support to Christianity in those days of distress.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg263">Page 263</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">One of those earthen cups.</hi></q>—<hi rend="italic">Palladius</hi>,
+who lived some time in Egypt, describes the monk
+Ptolemæus, who inhabited the desert of Scete, as collecting
+in earthen cups the abundant dew from the
+rocks.—<hi rend="italic">Bibliothec. Pat.</hi> tom. 13.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg264">Page 264</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">It was to preserve, he said</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—The
+brief sketch here given of the Jewish dispensation agrees
+very much with the view taken of it by Dr. Sumner, the
+present Bishop of Llandaff, in the first chapters of his eloquent
+and luminous work, the <q>Records of the Creation.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg266">Page 266</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">In vain did I seek the promise of immortality.</hi></q>—<q>It
+is impossible to deny,</q> says the Bishop of
+Llandaff, <q>that the sanctions of the Mosaic Law are
+altogether temporal.... It is, indeed, one of the facts
+that can only be explained by acknowledging that he
+really acted under a divine commission, promulgating a
+temporary law for a peculiar purpose,</q>—a much more
+candid and sensible way of treating this very difficult
+point, than by either endeavouring, like Warburton, to
+escape from it into a paradox, or still worse, contriving,
+like Dr. Graves, to increase its difficulty by explanation.
+v. <q><hi rend="italic">On the Pentateuch</hi>.</q> See also <hi rend="italic">Horne’s Introduction</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi> vol. I. p. 226.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg268">Page 268</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">All are of the dust</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—While
+Voltaire, Volney, &amp;c. refer to the Ecclesiastes, as abounding
+with tenets of materialism and Epicurism, Mr. Des
+Voeux and others find in it strong proofs of belief in a
+future state. The chief difficulty lies in the chapter from
+<pb n="329"/><anchor id="Pg329"/>which this text is quoted; and the mode of construction by
+which some writers attempt to get rid of it,—namely, by
+putting these texts into the mouth of a foolish reasoner,—appears
+forced and gratuitous. v. <hi rend="italic">Dr. Hales’s Analysis</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg270">Page 270</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The noblest and first-created</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—This
+opinion of the Hermit may be supposed to have
+been derived from his master, Origen; but it is not easy
+to ascertain the exact doctrine of Origen on this subject.
+In the Treatise on Prayer attributed to him, he asserts
+that God the Father alone should be invoked,—which,
+says Bayle, is <q>encherir sur les Hérésies des Sociniens.</q>
+Notwithstanding this, however, and some other
+indications of, what was afterwards called, Arianism,
+(such as the opinion of the divinity being received by
+<hi rend="italic">communication</hi>, which <hi rend="italic">Milner</hi> asserts to have been held
+by this Father,) Origen was one of the authorities
+quoted by Athanasius in support of his high doctrines
+of co-eternity and co-essentiality. What Priestley says
+is, perhaps, the best solution of these inconsistencies;—<q>Origen,
+as well as Clemens Alexandrinus, has
+been thought to favour the Arian principle; but he
+did it only in words and not in ideas.</q> <hi rend="italic">Early Opinions</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi> Whatever uncertainty, however, there may
+exist with respect to the opinion of Origen himself
+on this subject, there is no doubt that the doctrines of
+his immediate followers were, at least, Anti-Athanasian.
+<q>So many Bishops of Africa,</q> says Priestley, <q>were, at
+this period (between the years 255 and 258), Unitarians,
+that Athanasius says, <q>The Son of God,</q>—meaning his
+divinity,—<q>was scarcely any longer preached in the
+churches.</q></q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg271">Page 271</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The restoration of the whole human
+race to purity and happiness.</hi></q>—This benevolent
+doc<pb n="330"/><anchor id="Pg330"/>trine,—which not only goes far to solve the great problem
+of moral and physical evil, but which would, if received
+more generally, tend to soften the spirit of uncharitableness,
+so fatally prevalent among Christian sects,—was
+maintained by that great light of the early Church, Origen,
+and has not wanted supporters among more modern
+Theologians. That Tillotson was inclined to the opinion
+appears from his sermon preached before the queen.
+Paley is supposed to have held the same amiable doctrine;
+and Newton (the author of the work on the
+Prophecies) is also among the supporters of it. For a
+full account of the arguments in favour of this opinion,
+derived both from reason and the express language of
+Scripture, see Dr. Southwood Smith’s very interesting
+work, <q>On the Divine Government.</q> See also <hi rend="italic">Magee
+on the Atonement</hi>, where the doctrine of the advocates of
+Universal Restoration is thus briefly and fairly explained:—<q>Beginning
+with the existence of an infinitely powerful,
+wise, and good Being, as the first and fundamental
+principle of rational religion, they pronounce the essence
+of this Being to be <hi rend="italic">love</hi>, and from this infer, as a demonstrable
+consequence, that none of the creatures formed by
+such a Being will ever be made eternally miserable....
+Since God (they say) would act unjustly in inflicting
+eternal misery for temporary crimes, the sufferings of the
+wicked can be but remedial, and will terminate in a complete
+purification from moral disorder, and in their ultimate
+restoration to virtue and happiness.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg273">Page 273</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Fruit of the desert shrub.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Hamilton’s
+Ægyptiaca</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg278">Page 278</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The white garment she wore, and the
+ring of gold on her finger.</hi></q>—See, for the custom among
+the early Christians of wearing white for a few days after
+<pb n="331"/><anchor id="Pg331"/>baptism, <hi rend="italic">Ambros. de Myst.</hi>—With respect to the ring,
+the Bishop of Lincoln says, in his work on Tertullian,
+<q>The natural inference from these words (<hi rend="italic">Tertull. de
+Pudicitiâ</hi>) appears to be that a ring used to be given in
+baptism; but I have found no other trace of such a
+custom.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg280">Page 280</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Pebbles of jasper.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Clarke</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg280">Ib.</ref>—<q><hi rend="italic">Stunted marigold</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—<q>Les <hi rend="italic">Mesembryanthemum
+nodiflorum</hi> et <hi rend="italic">Zygophyllum coccineum</hi>, plantes
+grasses des déserts, rejetées à cause de leur âcreté par les
+chameaux, les chèvres, et les gazelles.</q> <hi rend="italic">M. Delile upon
+the plants of Egypt.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg281">Page 281</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Antinoë.</hi></q>—v. <hi rend="italic">Savary</hi> and <hi rend="italic">Quatremere</hi>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg286">Page 286</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">I have observed in my walks.</hi></q>—<q>Je
+remarquai avec une réflexion triste, qu’un animal de
+proie accompagne presque toujours les pas de ce joli et
+frêle individu.</q>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg272">Page 272</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Glistened over its silver letters.</hi></q>—The
+Codex Cottonianus of the New Testament is written in
+silver letters on a purple ground. The Codex Cottonianus
+of the Septuagint version of the Old Testament is
+supposed to be the identical copy that belonged to
+Origen.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg289">Page 289</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">Some denier of Christ.</hi></q>—Those
+Christians who sacrificed to idols to save themselves were
+called by various names, <hi rend="italic">Thurificati</hi>, <hi rend="italic">Sacrificati</hi>, <hi rend="italic">Mittentes</hi>,
+<hi rend="italic">Negatores</hi>, &amp;c. Baronius mentions a bishop of this
+period (253), Marcellinus, who, yielding to the threats
+<pb n="332"/><anchor id="Pg332"/>of the Gentiles, threw incense upon the altar. v. <hi rend="italic">Arnob.
+contra Gent.</hi> lib. 7.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg297">Page 297</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The clear voice with which</hi>,</q> <hi rend="italic">&amp;c.</hi>—The
+merit of the confession <q>Christianus sum,</q> or <q>Christiana
+sum,</q> was considerably enhanced by the clearness
+and distinctness with which it was pronounced. <hi rend="italic">Eusebius</hi>
+mentions the martyr Vetius as making it <foreign lang="grc">λαμπροτατη φωνη</foreign>.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 2">
+<ref target="Pg304">Page 304</ref>.—<q><hi rend="italic">The band round the young Christian’s
+brow.</hi></q>—We find poisonous crowns mentioned by <hi rend="italic">Pliny</hi>,
+under the designation of <q>coronæ ferales.</q> <hi rend="italic">Paschalius</hi>,
+too, gives the following account of these <q>deadly garlands,</q>
+as he calls them:—<q>Sed mirum est tam salutare
+inventum humanam nequitiam reperisse, quomodo ad
+nefarios usus traducent. Nempe, repertæ sunt nefandæ
+coronæ harum, quas dixi, tam salubrium per nomen quidem
+et speciem imitatrices, at re et effectu ferales, atque
+adeo capitis, cui imponuntur, interfectrices.</q> <hi rend="italic">De Coronis.</hi>
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 5; center; font-size: small">
+THE END.
+</p>
+
+<p rend="margin-top: 5; center; font-size: small">
+<hi rend="smallcaps">London</hi>:<lb/>
+Printed by A. &amp; R. Spottiswoode,<lb/>
+New-Street-Square.
+</p>
+
+</div>
+<div>
+        <pgIf output="pdf">
+        <then/>
+        <else>
+        <div id="footnotes" rend="page-break-before: right">
+        <index index="toc" level1="Footnotes"/>
+        <head>Footnotes</head>
+        <divGen type="footnotes"/>
+        </div>
+        </else>
+        </pgIf>
+        </div>
+<div rend="page-break-before:right; x-class: boxed">
+        <index index="pdf" level1="Transcriber's Note"/><index index="toc" level1="Transcriber’s Note"/>
+        <head>Transcriber’s Note</head>
+          <p>Variations in hyphenation (e.g. <q>daybreak</q>, <q>day-break</q>, <q>overhead</q>, <q>over-head</q>)
+            have not been changed.</p>
+<p>In the notes, some references are to the wrong pages or out of sequence.</p>
+
+        <p>Other changes, which have been made to the text:</p>
+<list>
+  <item><ref target="corr032">page 32</ref>, <q>alrea d</q> changed to <q>already</q></item>
+<item><ref target="corr081">page 81</ref>, <q>stirke</q> changed to <q>strike</q></item>
+<item><ref target="corr093">page 93</ref>, <q>grashopper</q> changed to <q>grasshopper</q></item>
+<item><ref target="corr188">page 188</ref>, quote mark added before <q>The state of misery</q></item>
+<item><ref target="corr194">page 194</ref>, <q>decome</q> changed to <q>become</q></item>
+<item><ref target="corr312">page 312</ref>, quote mark added before <q>There is, to the north of Memphis</q></item>
+</list>
+    
+        </div>
+<div rend="page-break-before: right">
+        <divGen type="pgfooter"/>
+        </div>
+        </back>
+    </text>
+</TEI.2>
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