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diff --git a/49332-tei/49332-tei.tei b/49332-tei/49332-tei.tei new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d4abbdc --- /dev/null +++ b/49332-tei/49332-tei.tei @@ -0,0 +1,10022 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?> +<!DOCTYPE TEI.2 SYSTEM "http://www.gutenberg.org/tei/marcello/0.4/dtd/pgtei.dtd"> +<TEI.2 lang="en"> + <teiHeader> + <fileDesc> + <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> + </availability> + </publicationStmt> + <sourceDesc> + <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> +</bibl> + </sourceDesc> + </fileDesc> + <encodingDesc> + </encodingDesc> + <profileDesc> + <langUsage> + <language id="en" /> + <language id="grc"/> + <language id="la"/> + </langUsage> + </profileDesc> + <revisionDesc> + <change> + <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> + </respStmt> + <item>Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1</item> + </change> + </revisionDesc> + </teiHeader> + + <pgExtensions> + <pgStyleSheet> + .bold { font-weight: bold } + .center { text-align: center } + .italic { font-style: italic } + .small { font-size: 75% } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + foreign { font-style: normal } + head { text-align: center } + lg { margin-left: 2 } + </pgStyleSheet> +<pgCharMap formats="txt"> +<char id="U0x2009"> + <charName>thinsp</charName> + <desc>THIN SPACE</desc> + <mapping></mapping> + </char> +</pgCharMap> + </pgExtensions> + +<text lang="en"> +<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, &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, &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> &c. &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, &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, &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">&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">&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">&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">&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> &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">&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>, +&c. &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">&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">&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, &c. &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> &c. &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> &c. &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">&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">&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">&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">&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> &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">&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">&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">&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">&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">&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">&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">&c.</hi>—While +Voltaire, Volney, &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">&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">&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">&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>, &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">&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. & 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> diff --git a/49332-tei/images/cover.jpg b/49332-tei/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..da23bb2 --- /dev/null +++ b/49332-tei/images/cover.jpg |
