The Life of Sethos, Vol. I

THE PREFACE.

The Greek Manuscript, of which I here offer the Publick a Translation, was found in the library of a foreign nation, extremely jealous of this sort of treasure. Those who procured me the reading of it would admit of my publishing this Translation upon no other terms, but that of concealing the Library in which the Original is deposited. The author is no where named: But we find by several Passages in this work, that he was a Greek born, and lived at Alexandria, under the reign of Marcus Aurelius.

There is no room to doubt but this work is a fiction. The event of sundry enterprizes proving in a manner such as a reader would wish or hope, the unexpected return and rencounter of several personages, but above all, the great number of discourses directly from the Persons themselves, sufficiently evince, that our author has not tied himself down to such real facts, which the common circumstances of life make liable to a greater confusion; and that he takes upon him the entire disposal, not only of the actions, but even of the thoughts of those persons he brings upon the stage.

The particular advantage, which he proposed to himself, obliged him to employ his pen in this kind of writing. History, properly so call’d, has beyond dispute its excellencies. It is an Improvement of the Mind, which we expect from every one who undertakes to cultivate education. History is essential to the professions of some, and a recreation almost universally coveted by others, whose main business seems the most distant from it. It is one of the chief springs of true philosophy, by the knowledge it gives us of human passions and prejudices. It is accounted the most sure guide in politicks, by furnishing one single person with the experience of all preceding ages. In short, it is looked upon by some as a great foundation of moral instructions, by the reiterated examples it lays before us of good and evil.

But with regard to this last property; I believe, when we come to examine the matter narrowly, we shall find history fall far short of fiction; when the latter is employed in such a manner as becomes every prudent writer; that is, with an Eye to form the manners of men. History, in itself, is but a collection of facts, guided by providence, for ends generally unknown to us: and tho’ every thing be wonderfully well ordered, pursuant to the mysterious views of the divine wisdom and justice; the consequences of mens actions are frequently to our eyes but a series of disappointed projects and crimes unpunished. A view of what has happened in the world is, strictly speaking, no other than a view of what passes in a place of publick resort, neither the one nor the other is in any-wise moral but by the reflections of the spectator or relator. In a Word, mere history is rather an object than a doctrine.

But in a fictitious work the case is very different. The moral Author, if his undertaking be narrative, generally makes it his business to represent his hero adorned with all the virtues proper to his state and condition. He places him in all such circumstances as may give him room to exercise these virtues. He sets him in opposition not only to wicked men, but to such whose virtues are weak and wavering; that their different characters may make that of his hero shine forth with the greater lustre. His images are accompanied with judgments already formed, and explicit advices. In a word, his instructions are rendered perfect, as well by doctrine as example. We might combine and melt down numbers of the great Men in history, and unite the events of many ages; before we should find those materials for wonder and imitation, which a judicious author of a fiction will often produce in but a small part of the life of one single hero.

The two works we have hitherto seen of this kind, Telemachus and the Travels of Cyrus perfectly answer this idea. It is not a comparison with history, which is of a quite different nature, but a comparison of good fictitious works, which will more and more discover the pernicious folly of romances, when by that term we mean an advantageous, or if but a favourable representation of the frailties or disorders of love. But a yet more important effect of good fiction will be to explode false heroism. That cruel ambition and implacable revenge celebrated by so many orators and poets under the epithet of valour, will be divested of the lustre they have cloathed it with, and we shall soon look upon whatever has contributed to raise these false virtues to such an eminence, as the deceitful beauties of eloquence, or poetry.

This happy effect seems to be already infused in the minds of men. The spoil of nations does now no longer appear an object of emulation; at least among civilized people. Panegyricks upon conquests and devastations are no more patterns in the education of princes; and good poets have done with extolling them for making arms alone their pastime. I find no reason to repent of what I formerly said speaking of Telemachus: That if the happiness of mankind could be said to arise from a poem, it would be from that. And tho’ princes may not often apply themselves much to reading, yet those who have the care of their education, knowing as well the origine as progress of learning, don’t suffer them to be ignorant, either in those principles of morality or maxims of lenity, which even their own times may have produced and established. Princes now ascend the throne endued with a knowledge of true glory, and imbibing the very same sentiments on this head with the publick, they concur in supporting it in that tranquility and happiness which is expected from them.

A peace, the long continuance of which has no precedent in our history, is unquestionably owing to the wisdom of a great minister. And the French nation acknowledges all the obligations due to him for that unwearied administration which is the support of their tranquility. But the princes he has to treat with would perhaps more strenuously oppose his measures, if an education advanced by a work, which is of service to all the kings in the universe, had not reconciled them to the same dispositions of mind as the young and august monarch, in whose kingdoms Telemachus took its birth. If we are allowed to assert, that the encrease of literature has introduced a politeness and good taste in all the courts and cities of Europe, we may justly attribute, at least in part, that fondness for peace, which at this time seems to be the favourite passion of all nations, to those works which contain an excellent moral, set off with all the embellishments that can render it agreeable. We may certainly number them among the causes of that just and pacifick temper of mind, which every one is seemingly big with, and which by degrees extirpates those animosities among nations, which the bare remoteness of their former inducements, began to render unjust and reproachful; and in the place of which a mutual value for the virtues, talents, and every commendable quality of their neighbours is daily substituted.

A natural consequence of the success of Telemachus next to reforming our judgments, and softening our manners, ought to be laying a foundation for a new kind of work. The first poems of antiquity produced imitations of the same form and denomination, as Epopeas, Tragedies, Idylls and the like; but the author of Telemachus has only been imitated in the essential part; that is by the same intention or zeal to produce the same effects. Thus Telemachus is an epick poem; but the Travels of Cyrus, in conformity to their title, contain only the hero’s rambles in search of instructions from all the wise men of his times, in order to introduce into his own dominions whatever he found good and profitable in the different customs of the most celebrated kingdoms and commonwealths.

The Work before us is, with regard to the moral design of it, of the same species with both; but more different in the form of it, than they are one from the other. They are both properly a system of education: and tho’ Cyrus was more advanced in years than Telemachus; both heroes only treasured up instructions for practice, or made trial of what they were to put in use; the former in the management of a little kingdom, and the latter in the government of a vast empire. My author, on the contrary, displays a compleat life, or the actual application of those principles and sentiments, which his hero had imbibed in the course of a most excellent education. So that in this history, which is divided into ten books, the hero, from the fourth, is in a condition to instruct others; and in the whole sequel acts alone upon his own motives. Mov’d by a true heroism, he employs the time of a tedious exile in the quest of unknown people, whom he frees from the bondage of the most barbarous superstitions, and becomes their law-giver. In his return, he, by his valour, relieves a mighty republick from an enemy, that was at its very gates; but demands no other reward for his labour, than the preservation of the people he had vanquished, whose king or tyrant had been the aggressor. Being at last returned into his native country, he becomes a benefactor to those he had reason to look upon as his enemies and rivals; rejoicing in those junctures, which engaged his honour to sacrifice his own interest to theirs, and made the happiness he obtained for them his duty.

Sethos is not alone virtuous by a natural disposition or from a habit. The motives of his conduct are drawn from durable and enlightened principles, which he displays in different rencounters. And he forms to himself such decisions, as, tho’ always tending towards the highest perfection, and even to heroism, are more recommendable by their accuracy than their severity. Hence we have reason to suppose, that, our author, who liv’d in the second century, had some knowledge of morals far superior to those of paganism. From these morals, it is very plain he borrows those adequate definitions of the virtues and vices, which he sometimes puts into the mouth of his hero, and some others of his personages. And upon this it is I build the confidence I have in affirming, that this work contains a more refined and profound moral than has hitherto been seen in any book, the product of mere literature, or of the number of those which may be stil’d prophane.

As our author, however, leaves his hero a pagan; he confines himself, in this history or life, wholly to moral virtues; and the recommendation of such to the practice of mankind is not without its advantage. It is by means of them, if I may be allowed the expression, we can have intercourse with the manners of those nations, who differ the most from us in point of religion. It is by them, that even in religion itself, we are able to keep up that humanity and probity, so necessary for the publick good, in men who have the unhappiness of not enough perceiving those motives of another kind, which are of greater importance to them. To conclude, by them we can shew those too zealous persons, who seem to despise such virtues as are merely moral, that christian virtues are in regard to moral virtues what faith is with respect to reason; superior, but never contradictory.

Another of our author’s views has been to lay hold of the opportunity of an Egyptian hero to throw into his work a great number of learned curiosities, concerning that once so famous people: And farther, as he makes his hero travel over a great part of the globe, he had carefully got together the primary notions of the ancient geography. This was, without doubt, one of his reasons for giving his work the turn of a history or life, preferable to that of a poem or romance. In reality, the examples of Herodotus, Polybius, Diodorus, and especially of Plutarch, sufficiently justified his inserting in this narrative, not only political or military antiquities, but even historical passages relating to the rise and progress of human knowledge. These great writers looked upon such digressions as very curious for the common part of readers, who want time or patience to have recourse to other springs.

I must own, however, that upon a view of my whole translation, I began to fear the inconveniency of interruptions, either too frequent or too prolix, in a life built upon fable, the contexture of whose parts ought to render it more engaging than common lives. Of all the particulars on this head in the original, I have therefore only preserved such as were necessary to give an adequate idea of the education of a hero, who stood in need of great lights, to undertake a very long voyage, not before attempted; and then to give proper laws to the different nations, which were civilized by him. The academies of Memphis, which he frequents in his most tender youth, and the observatory of Thebes, which he visits before he imbarks for his voyage, were preparations essential to the carrying on of this design. And so the reader will find a plan of the former in the first book, and a sketch of the other in the fifth. But even in these hints I have considerably abridged our author’s historical comparison between the sciences of the Egyptians and those of Greece.

Nevertheless, the general impression which will arise from the body of the work, is sufficient to give even a pretty extensive idea of the Egyptians, Phœnicians, and some other nations: And even the fiction will be no hinderance to a search into the grounds of their understanding and manners. Many people have no other notion of the Greeks and Romans but what they have taken from Tragedy; and a certain principle, not very easy to define, teaches them to distinguish that which may reasonably be supposed to be true from what is probably the product of invention only. This advantage has been improved even in romances, and the ninth part of Cleopatra gives us as faithful a picture of the recesses of Augustus’s court, as we could expect from the Abbot of St. Real. But here the reader will find plainer indications than are to be found either in tragedies or romances.

We may at first view rely upon the particular circumstances, as well of Egypt as of other nations, which the author confirms by quoting any known writers. He seems himself to have separated the real from the fictitious, by alledging his anecdotical authors for those facts which are wholly the children of his own invention, or for such customs as are founded upon truth, but are refined and amplified in the relation. Fiction has a right of sacrificing the accuracy of facts, not only to moral virtues, but even to the embellishment of the narration; supposing besides that the end of such embellishment is to render the instruction more agreeable. An example of this conduct in our author, is the important article of initiation, which alone fills two whole books. But even this article is very conformable to the essential part of this renowned institution; as far as it could break thro’ that rigid silence which cover’d it, and as we find any traces of it in those authors, either Pagan or Christian, who have mentioned it. The whole work is full of manners and customs, part of which I myself have confirmed by notes added to the text. As to some other less considerable passages, for the proof of which I have designedly avoided over-charging this work with quotations. I dare venture to affirm, that the more my readers may have examined, the more they will find our author agree with those testimonies which are either collected or dispersed in the different writings we have left of antiquity. For tho’ my intent was to clear this work from all tedious erudition, I never designed to deprive it of the advantage and support of curious enquiries: but had always my author’s chief aim in view, who adding his love for learning to that of virtue, looks upon literature in a nation, taken in general, as the source and support of every humane and civil virtue.

To conclude, our author seems to have drawn all the probability, that can be expected from a fictitious writer, concerning the knowledge he could be supposed to have of the actions and sentiments of his hero, from the place where he lived. He is treating of an Egyptian prince, born in the century preceding the Trojan war, a time in which ancient Egypt was in its greatest splendor. Now this period so remote can have furnished no publick memoirs to any other writer either of Italy or Greece. But it is very natural to suppose that a citizen of Alexandria may have been master of memoirs taken in the confusion of war from the sacred archives of Egypt, and unknown even to the Egyptian priests of his times; and besides those priests who accompanied Sethos in his travels, may have been the authors of them. It was to give a like sanction to her history that Madam de Scudery in the preface to her Cyrus, a hero posterior to ours by seven or eight hundred years, studies to have it thought the translation of an ancient manuscript found in the Vatican library.

In the second place, as our author mentions the sciences of the Egyptians only comparatively with those of the Greeks, from whom alone the Romans had any knowledge of ancient Egypt; the second century, or the latter end of the first, and the beginning of the second, in which he lived, was the most proper time for this comparison. A time which may justly be termed the most favourable to the sciences both for the Romans and Greeks, then under the same empire. M. de St. Evremont has already remarked that the days of Augustus were only noted for poetry; and that we must look something farther back for the days of eloquence. Our best writers in point of painting and sculpture, M. Felibien and M. de Piles, seem on the other hand to refer the period of sciences among the Romans, to that interval of time included in the reign of Vespasian and the Antonines. The names of Pliny, Ptolemy and Galienus alone give us reason to fix their greatest eminency thereabouts; and the reader will find in this life sundry evidences to prove, that Alexandria was then their principal seat, even for the Romans themselves. These considerations were sufficient to justify our author with regard to what I have thought proper to omit on this head, and may perhaps give him more credit with regard to that little I have retained.

LICENCE. — ERRATA.

BOOK I.

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

The Egyptians, who go farther back in the relations of their origine than our histories reach, say the Gods were their first kings. They name seven: Vulcan, the Sun, Agathodemon, Saturn, Osiris, Isis and Typhon. By Vulcan, to whom they assign no beginning, their philosophers meant that elementary fire, which is diffused every where. This same fire, re-united into one globe, is the Sun, the son of Vulcan. Agathodemon, defin’d by his very name, was their good genius or principle. Saturn, or Time, was the father of Osiris and Isis, brother and sister, husband and wife, the two sexes of nature. Typhon, their third brother, was always regarded by them as their evil principle.

Horus was the son of Osiris and Isis, reason, or human wisdom, and he began the reign of the demi-gods. These were nine in number, Horus, Mars, Anubis, Hercules, Apollo, Ammon, Tithoes, Sosus, and Jupiter, or Menes. I shall not speak of every one of these in particular, most of them being pretty well known to the Greeks and Romans, even in their allegorical signification. I shall only observe, in order to set the times of my hero in a clearer light, that the latter of these demi-gods began the reign of men. He was indeed look’d upon but as a man in his life-time: but after having rul’d all Egypt alone by the name of Menes, he was, after his death, in consideration of his happy reign, number’d with the gods by the name of Jupiter. He had four sons, Thot or Mercury, Æsculapius, Athotes and Curudes, of which the two first were, as well as himself, advanced to the skies. Menes, to render the succession to his states equal, divided Egypt into four kingdoms. Mercury reign’d in Thebes, Æsculapius at Memphis, Athotes at This, and Curudes at Tanis. This was the rise of the four great Dynasties of Egypt, which were collateral or cotemporary for sixteen hundred years, to the time of the famous Sesostris, king of Thebes, and conqueror of Asia. [1]⁠The other Egyptian dynasties, which some historians mention, to the number of twenty, from the times of Menes to Sesostris, were but separate branches of these four chief divisions; and the different names they give them, as Heracleopolites, Xoites, Elephantins, and the like, were taken from the residence of some of the kings of each dynasty in different cities of the same kingdom.

As for the Shepherd Kings, who were foreigners, and having dwelt in Egypt during the space of three or four ages, seem to have interrupted this succession; they never had any settled possession on this side Tanis, on the borders of Delta, tho’ they obliged the natural kings of those regions to retire to Heliopolis. But as these foreigners, originally Arabians, made frequent incursions into the other parts of Egypt, the Egyptians, being reunited, attack’d, and having vanquish’d them, oblig’d them, and their descendants, to furnish all Egypt with slaves. This victory was obtain’d near two hundred years before the birth of Sesostris, who found Egypt in a state of tranquillity, and made it very flourishing. This hero had the ambition to set the god Osiris for his pattern, and like him, according to the Egyptian traditions, visited a great part of the earth, teaching the inhabitants to cultivate it, and to form agreeable and useful societies; thus Sesostris was the first king, of the race of men, who bore arms in Asia, and there introduced and establish’d the laws and sciences of Egypt. He even rul’d all the four kingdoms of Egypt, not indeed by a sovereign power, but by the superiority of his genius, his virtues and reputation.

His first successors supported for a time, especially with regard to foreign provinces, the splendor of so great an empire; and we find, about one hundred years after Sesostris, Mendes or Memnon, king of Thebes, ruler of Susa and Phrygia, chastizing the revolted Bactrians, and re-establishing order among the people conquer’d by his ancestor. But Ramesses, who succeeded Memnon, wanting both the courage and conduct of his forefathers, lost, by his weakness, all the conquer’d dominions, and, by his pride, a title which he had till then retain’d above the other kings of Egypt. His immediate predecessors having need of all their cunning as well as force, to keep the distant provinces under the yoke of obedience, had treated these kings with discretion, and had not abus’d that right, which they perceived had in truth only devolv’d upon Sesostris, on account of his personal merit. But young Ramesses⁠[2] soon discover’d his character by two obelisks, which he caus’d to be inscrib’d with titles so ostentatious and false, with regard to him, that in latter ages they have been thought to relate to Sesostris. This young prince, whose whole study was to deck himself with a vain and momentaneous glory, the ignominious consequences of which he never foresaw, took upon him to send these kings, who were now become his equals, his commands in form. But they soon gave him to understand, that they insisted upon Egypt’s retaining its pristine form of four dynasties, which had been always independant since the four sons of Menes. They alledg’d, that Sesostris himself had not interrupted them: and that the kings their predecessors, in his life-time, reserving the royal title and dignities, had accepted of diverse regulations, by him proposed, only because they appear’d to be equally advantageous to the whole nation. Such was the division he had made of all Egypt into thirty-six nomes⁠[3] or provinces, the particular governors of which could with greater ease keep a watchful eye over the productions of nature and art, which they furnish for foreign commerce; and over the taxes they were in a condition to contribute in case of a general war. It was to him, they said, were owing those temples which were erected in each city, to the honour of its tutelar god; the wall which extended from Pelusa to Heliopolis, and put a stop to the inroads of the Syrians, and bordering Arabians of the desarts, a people under no manner of discipline; the great canal, by which a communication was open’d between the Mediterranean and the Red-sea, and the whole eastern and western commerce made to pass thro’ Egypt; and lastly those dykes and sluices, which taking in the whole space from the Cataracts of the Nile, to its mouth or entrance into the sea, between the mountains of Libya, and the coasts of the red-sea, stopp’d or received, as occasion requir’d, the inundations of that river. But they added, that, all these undertakings being finished, they knew how to maintain them, each in his own dominions, without the advice of Ramesses, from whom they absolutely refused to receive any commands. This opposition put an end to a dispute, which a king, more wise than he, might have kept undecided; and he was obliged to take up with the title of king of Thebes the great, which devolv’d to Sesostris by right of his ancestors.

About two hundred years after the death of Ramesses, and fifty or sixty years before the Trojan wars; Osoroth, a prince advanced in years, succeeded to the crown of Memphis, a dynasty but little inferior in power to that of Thebes, but by far preferable to it with regard to the lenity of its climate, and the beauty of its situation. The city of Memphis, the metropolis of the dynasty, was situate on the western bank of the Nile, near the place where that only river of Egypt divides itself into seven arms, of which those two, which are at the greatest distance one from the other, enclose the Delta, and all together form seven mouths at their entrance into the great ocean (the Mediterranean.) All Egypt has, from the antientest account of time, been stil’d a gift of the Nile; being suppos’d to be only a heap of earth, which the waters of this river has successively carry’d away with its stream from the south to the north. But the formation of the Delta is held to be more recent: because according to those⁠[4] monuments, which may well be look’d upon as historical truths, the Pharus of Alexandria, which is now join’d to the continent, was formerly twenty-four leagues distant from it in the sea. This region is so delightful, that, according to fable, the gods form’d it upon the constellation of the triangle, which passes vertically over the Delta every Day in the year.

Osoroth, not long before his accession to the throne, had marry’d Nephte, daughter of the king of This, a third dynasty, situate between Memphis and Thebes, to the west of the river Nile. Of this princess he soon had the prince, whose life I am about to write. He was the eldest of the three sons of Osoroth, mentioned in the annals of [5]⁠Manethon only by the name of the Anonymi. But tho’ this famous historian was a priest, and even keeper of the sacred archives of Heliopolis; as he did not write till the reign of Ptolomeus Philadelphus, two hundred years after the devastation of Egypt by Cambyses, the remains of those memoirs he was possess’d of were but very imperfect. I have, by means not to be related, discover’d those which are more ample, and have been preserv’d more entire; and which give to the first of these Anonymi of Manethon the name of Sethos, and the surname of Sosis, or Preserver, for a reason that will be shewn in the sequel of his life.

The birth of this prince fill’d the whole kingdom with joy; so great was the love the people bore to their king, or rather to the queen, who, tho’ but young in years, govern’d them with an admirable wisdom and goodness: For Osoroth, whose character it would be difficult to trace in one single picture, and which will not be well understood till towards the conclusion of this history, immediately entrusted the reins of government in the hands of the queen. This prince did not ascend the throne till the 50th year of his age: And king Sesonchis his father, more jealous of his present authority than attentive to the future felicity of his son and subjects, had kept him ignorant of the affairs of his realm, even to the moment he left him his successor. So Osoroth, having fortify’d his natural indolence by a life given up to sloth and inactivity, had no other taste of the sweets of royalty, but that of independency, and sought how to disburthen himself of the weight of government. This part fell, as it were of itself, into the hands of the queen, more capable than any other of receiving it; and what appear’d in the eye of the people to be a judicious choice, was in reality the mere effect of supineness in Osoroth. He was one of those kings, who being of themselves neither good nor bad, become the very best or worst of princes, just as they happen by mere accident to fall into the hands of good or wicked ministers: Unhappy the situation of a people subject to a prince whose very errors are without controul!

Nephte, from the first dawn of her power, had fill’d her subjects with the hopes of a gentle government. They were the more sensible of it, as their deceas’d king, otherwise a great prince, was rigid and stern in his manners. The minds of the people were sensible of a relief, even before the queen had eas’d them in the publick burden; because, without diminishing the king’s revenue, she had found means of rendring it less perceptible. Even the riches of private persons encreas’d by the confidence they plac’d in her, and in one another. She, at the same time, brought up her only son with all the affection of a mother, and the foresight of a wise queen. She earnestly desir’d to see him attain to that age in which she might, in her turn, deliver up to him that administration, which she look’d upon but as a trust committed to her charge. In the mean time she took as an assistant in the conduct of her affairs, an excellent person, call’d Amedes; who, tho’ he had not in the late reign pass’d thro’ all the offices of dignity wherewith he might have been invested, yet had acquitted himself with great honour in several eminent stations, as well civil as military, and in negotiations with foreign princes; and who now advis’d the queen (as he had before the late king) to conceal from the publick the honour she did him, to avoid exciting the jealousy of the great, and that murmuring of the people, which is often rais’d against those ministers who are most zealous for the publick felicity. Hence the queen, reserving Amedes for her cabinet counsellor, without any title of note, preferr’d the best of her subjects, among those whom the different degrees of birth seem’d to present for every place that became vacant. Thus her sovereign authority was employ’d in distinguishing merit, without subverting order; and the number of the disaffected was very small, and even they were apprehensive of uttering those complaints, which they knew the voice of the publick would condemn.

While the queen intirely devoted herself to affairs of state, the king gave himself up to all the amusements of a glittering court. But as these were never reliev’d by any thing serious, they could scarce keep him from uneasiness, and manifested in the king of a great people, a man whose very leisure sate heavy upon him. Among the ladies who were about him was one, whose name was Daluca, the widow of a great lord of the court. She had no children, and had already pass’d those years in which the ladies only cultivate their beauty in order to carry on their gallantry, and was enter’d into those, in which they are studious of making the remains of it subservient to their ambition. This lady had form’d a design of gaining an ascendant over the king. The esteem and regard the queen was in had deterr’d every one else from the like attempt. Daluca herself, who was perfectly acquainted with Osoroth’s temper, was very cautious of saying any thing to him against Nephte, that might excite any disagreeable emotions in his mind. She made it her business to be continually near him; and had the art of pleasing by that obsequiousness and those complacencies, which have by much a greater power over kings somewhat advanc’d in years, than youth and beauty, void of stratagem and private views. And she did not find it difficult to gain the favour of a prince so unguarded and indolent. She might perhaps have already rais’d her ambition to a greater height, upon observing that the queen was not in the best state of health. But without renouncing the view of a more remote happiness, her vanity was for the present satisfy’d by being a distinguish’d object among the courtiers, and by standing in some manner in competition with the queen.

Nephte, by the dignity of her person, as well as the situation of affairs, was far above the uneasinesses which generally affect those who perceive themselves invested only with a borrow’d power. Wherefore, tho’ she soon observ’d the stratagems and intrigues of her rival, she fear’d nothing with regard to herself; but then her foresight laid her under the greater apprehensions for her son. He had then attain’d but his eighth year, and she saw with grief, that if she should be snatch’d away before his father had settled the succession upon him, the fate of this young prince would be deliver’d into the hands of the rash Daluca. The right of primogeniture was indeed establish’d in Egypt: But the choice of a father was of great weight; and history furnish’d more than one example of a second or third son being preferr’d to the eldest. And oftentimes this incertitude had been the occasion of quarrels among brothers, which the fortune of the sword could alone decide. Thus, tho’ the queen had then no symptoms that foreboded any approaching distemper, yet the thoughts of a doubtful futurity cast her into great uneasinesses. Wherefore recommending her son, by means of the priests, to the protection of all the deities of Egypt, she apply’d herself with the greater earnestness to the performance of her duty, that she might engage heaven to second intentions so worthy of her maternal care: but the gods, who are the sole arbiters of the rewards of the just, do not always dispense them in the course of this mortal life.

The queen’s too assiduous application to business, even beyond her strength, and perhaps her too great apprehension of sickness, caus’d her in a short time to fall into an indisposition, which, being at first but slight, she strove to conceal, in hopes of overcoming it. But the fever increasing, the distemper was soon look’d upon as a thing not to be trifled with; and the reflections she made upon the circumstances of her son, threw her into the utmost despair. Unhappy princess! cry’d she, whatever my fears have hitherto suggested is now coming to pass! Why must my life be of such moment to my son? Tho’ in bloom of youth, I have tasted enough of the bitterness of life to leave it without regret, if no one else was concern’d; yet, alas! ’tis I who die; and ’tis I who mourn for my son! These words were follow’d by a torrent of tears, which heighten’d her disease, without alleviating her affliction. In vain her disconsolate damsels, who took care to keep the prince from her sight, study’d to appease her by persuasion and entreaty. Alas! said she, I plainly perceive by the confusion in your discourses, and the cruelty with which you conceal my son from my eyes, that my fate is fix’d, and all hopes of a recovery lost. My son! my dearest son! cry’d she, in the greatest agitation of mind, thou alone makest death my terror! Death, who is the end of all others pain, is the origin of mine! I shall be deny’d even the peace of the grave! Madam, answer’d the most venerable of her attendants, who by her birth, virtue and affection was dearest to her, whither do the hurry of your thoughts carry you? Do you consider, that, by giving way, as you do, to an excess of grief, whereby you render your distemper mortal, which otherwise is but dangerous, you at the same time offend the providence of the gods, the sovereign arbiters of yours and your son’s destiny? That virtue, madam, which you have hitherto strictly profess’d, is not perfectly distinguishable till exercis’d in such trials as this. Well, answer’d the queen, I submit to your advice, and devote myself with an absolute resignation to the will of the gods. Acquaint me only when the time of my dissolution approaches, that I may take my last measures with regard to my son, upon whose fate I foresee depends the happiness of my people.

This lady, whose friendship was sincere and resolute, having promis’d the queen what she demanded, Nephte from that moment endeavour’d to preserve her mind in a state of tranquillity; but the less visible her anxieties appear’d in her outward behaviour, the greater effect they had upon her mind.

In the mean time the most celebrated physicians of the kingdom, who were then the priests, were assembled in the palace, even by order of the king; tho’, that it might not break in upon his pleasures, he always suppos’d the queen’s distemper to be of no dangerous consequence. Egypt, the mother of arts and sciences, claim’d the honour, before all other, of having given birth to the medical art. Æsculapius, one of the sons of Menes, had even reign’d in Memphis, as we have already observ’d, while his brother Mercury was king of Thebes; and the six volumes [6]⁠which the former had compil’d upon physick, added to the six-and-thirty wherein Mercury had given the principles of all the other sciences, form’d that famous treasure of learning, by which the priests boasted of having been instructed by the gods themselves. Be that as it will, these physicians, truly accomplish’d in their art, put in practice, with regard to the queen, whatever their reading, reflexions, and experience could suggest. They at first treated her according to their ancient rules, which were enjoyn’d them under penalty of death: for every physician, who deviated from them, was answerable for his patient, and in case of ill success, the death of the one surely brought on the death of the other. This indeed often serv’d for a pretext to treat those patients, who were indifferent to them, with negligence, and not to exceed the letter of the law. But that concern with which they were sensibly affected for the preservation of a queen, such as Nephte, and the lamentations of a people, who recommended their sovereign, whom they styl’d their mother, soon engag’d them to have recourse to new remedies. They indeed disguis’d them under ancient names, whereby they found means to justify themselves by some of the innumerable instances with which their books were fill’d. They even by turns waited at the gate of the palace to hear all who might have any advice to offer for the queen’s recovery: and afterwards gave their opinion of them in their consultations. For it was of importance to them in so critical a juncture, in some measure, to comply with an ancient custom, of placing their sick before the doors of their houses, that they might enquire of all who pass’d by, if they knew of any remedy for the distemper in question.

On the other hand, the temples of the gods were open day and night to a vast concourse of people, who continually resorted thither to supplicate the recovery of their queen. They began at the⁠[7] temple of Vulcan, built by Menes, the common ancestor of all the kings of Egypt, which had been preserv’d during the space of 1600 years in all the splendor it was left in by the founder. From thence they went to those of Serapis and Venus: But it was in the temple of Osiris, his wife Isis, and their son Horus, that they were the most assiduous, on account of the remarkable relation there happen’d to be between these three deities, and the persons of whom the royal family then consisted. The successive concourse of innumerable people continually fill’d not only the court, the porch, and body of the temple, but all the parts contiguous to the sanctuary, notwithstanding their large extent.

In the middle of the sanctuary, upon a very high pedestal, and all of one single piece of cast metal, were plac’d these three deities, in such sort, that Osiris, whose image was the highest, held Isis⁠[8] standing before him, and she Horus in the same manner: For what Strabo says of the temples of Egypt being without statues, or at most having only the figure of some animal in the middle of them, is not to be understood of the times antecedent to the invasion of Cambyses. The head of Osiris was incircled with a radiant sun. Isis was crown’d with a bushel, and had her face cover’d with a veil. Under her left arm she held an urn bow’d downwards, and at her feet lay the bird Ibis. And Horus was describ’d holding his finger upon his lips. There it was that numerous troops of musicians sung to slow musick, and in a mournful tone, hymns, taken from their ancient rites, and adapted to the present occasion.⁠[9]⁠

While this and the like hymns were repeating, the priests (in robes of linnen, with chaplets of lotus on their heads, and sandals of the plant papyrus on their feet) were continually offering sacrifices upon three triangular altars plac’d before the triple statue. These holy men, worn away with austere fasting, which had continu’d from the instant the queen’s distemper begun, and fainting under the cruel scourgings with which they accompany’d their invocations, were hardly able, notwithstanding their great number, to put up the prayers the people demanded of them, or which they offer’d of their own accord.

But what avail temples, and all the vows offer’d in them, against the irrevocable decrees of fate! The queen, however ready to conform to all the prescriptions of her physicians, declin’d daily. The most powerful medicines, tho’ apply’d even before she was reduc’d to extremity, seem’d to have no more effect upon her than common remedies; and the physicians, who had been less apprehensive of any extraordinary event, than of that insensible decay they perceiv’d in her, never let fall the least word of hopes. Convinc’d of her own fate, she resolv’d at last to consult the most ancient oracle in the world, which was in the neighbourhood of Memphis, with regard to her son. It was the oracle of Latona, the nurse of Horus, at Butos, a city lying between the Sebennitick and Polbitinick gulph, opposite to which was the then floating island Chemnis.⁠[10] And this it was which gave the Greeks a notion of their island of Delos floating till the birth of Apollo, the son of Latona. The priests of the oracle, inform’d of the queen’s sickness, had anticipated her deputation, and made great preparations for obtaining the goddess’s answer. They offer’d up their supplications to her in a vast temple, dug under that which appear’d. In that above the sacrifices were offer’d, and the ceremonies perform’d, in the sight of all the people; but to the mysteries celebrated in the subterranean temple, none were admitted but those who were initiated. There it was that so many human victims were sacrific’d, particularly upon such occasions as this, and the gods entreated to accept of other young persons, in exchange for a prince or princess greatly belov’d. There are few nations known, but what may be reproach’d with the same shameful barbarity: But the Egyptians, more superstitious than other nations, have, in former days, carry’d it so far as to sacrifice every foreigner at the tomb of Osiris, in the city of Heliopolis. This tomb was call’d Busiris; and fable has related it as of a king of Egypt, a transgressor of the laws of hospitality. However, Amosis, [11]⁠one of the ancestors of Sesostris at Thebes, had the courage and authority to abolish this bloody custom in every city. In the room of these human victims were then substituted images of wax, since so much made use of in magick superstitions.

The priests deputed to consult the oracle being arriv’d, after one day’s journeying, at Butos, with the noble offerings the queen had sent, went the same evening into the temple. All the people having conducted them thither, were oblig’d to attend without; and they enter’d into that part of the temple adjoining to the chapel in the superior temple, of which Herodotus makes mention, and which was hewn out of one single square stone, the inside whereof was sixty foot every way. After having pass’d a good part of the night in this place, they received the answer of the oracle, and were let out privately by another door, and made the best of their way for Memphis.

The queen, who counted every moment of their journey, and her life, waited their return with an impatience that added to the ardor of her fever. That sorrow which had so tortur’d her mind in the first periods of her indisposition, and which she still continu’d to suppress, was now as visible in her attendants. They look’d upon her death as an irrevocable decree of fate; and the consequences of it, which they foresaw, as well with regard to themselves as the state, threw them into an inexpressible anguish of mind. It was not only that tender affliction arising from the approaching and eternal separation from a mistress, and a friend, to whom they were entirely devoted: Their concern was like to that of persons who imagin’d they beheld all their fair possessions on the point of being laid in ashes, by the impetuous ravages of some sudden fire, which would reduce them from a state of plenty, to that of extreme indigence: or to the consternation of a city brought to extremity by a barbarous enemy, ready to destroy its religion and laws. The anguish of despair was so visible in their faces, that the most beautiful were become ghastly; and those amongst them, who were endu’d with the greatest presence of mind, could not conceal their distraction, even in their attendances upon the queen, who still kept a profound silence.

The deputies being at last return’d, and taking the young prince, with the faithful Amedes, whom they found attending him, with them, they enter’d the queen’s apartment; where, in the presence of both, and of her confident, without any other witnesses, the chief of the deputation thus unfolded the answer of the oracle, which the sequel of the life of Sethos so exactly verifies, that the author of my memoirs may perhaps be suspected of having copy’d from thence. Vertuous spouse, generous mother, and wise queen (said he) the gods, adverse, and at the same time propitious, send you this answer: Be comforted in that death for which you are already prepar’d. It is only an unhappiness to those in whom it puts an end to a wicked life, and when it loads the memory of the deceas’d with the hatred and maledictions of the living. The gods are attending to bestow upon you that reward which is due to the good works you have perform’d, and even to those you design’d. You will still live in the hearts of your people, and your son will one day restore to them that felicity, which the loss of you is now about to deprive them of. He himself however will not be happy, according to the idea common souls form to themselves of the prosperity of princes: But the gods promise him all that heroick virtue has most satisfactory in itself, and all that the glory which attends it can indulge him with. Born for the good of mankind, he will become a benefactor to nations; preserver of Egypt; and a conqueror of himself. But let those who now hear me keep as an inviolable secret, whatever concerns the prince, and suffer the cloud which will overshadow his first years to disperse of itself.

The priest had hardly made an end of speaking, when the queen, embracing young Sethos, said: My son, my death is no longer a trouble to me, the gods deprive you of my relief only to give you a more eminent merit and lustre in those great actions they propose to effect by your means. Be faithful to the destiny they have prepar’d for you, and fulfil all their designs. And then, addressing herself to the priests, Return, said she, to your temples, and continue your vows for my son, whom I have long since recommended to you: The presents I design for the gods shall immediately follow you; may they vouchsafe to accept of these slender marks of my gratitude.

These presents were all the ornaments of a domestick chapel, which she had caus’d to be built contiguous to the apartment she slept in. She had brought them from This, the place of her nativity, where the news of her lamented death was soon going to shorten the days of the king her father. Amongst these ornaments were statues of gold, some of the height of a cubit, which represented the common deities of all Egypt, and in particular of Apollo, who was held in peculiar veneration at This, and at Abydus, which was dependant upon it. Having thus previously sent to the gods what was most dear to her, she address’d herself to Amedes in the following discourse. Wise and faithful counsellor, said she, the kingdom will not be so happy to have you for its support, under the administration which will succeed my death; devote yourself to my son, and be his governor and council. The gods assure me that those virtues they have promis’d him will be the effects of your instructions and example. Amedes immediately embracing young Sethos with the respect due to him; My prince, said he, to you I entirely devote the remains of my strength and life. All the services I am capable of rendering my country, are included in the education I shall have the honour of giving to him, to whom the sovereignty of it will one day of right belong.

In that instant the king, who, not to be wanting in his devoirs, had made it a rule to visit the queen twice a day, enter’d her apartment. My lord, said she, upon seeing him approach, the oracle has pronounced my doom. It may not be seemly to recommend a son to his father; but, since he is going to be deprived of me, vouchsafe to accept my entreaty, that you will be to him a father and a mother. Madam, answer’d the king, my son is dear to me for my own sake, and will be still dearer to me for yours; but I don’t yet despair of moving the gods to pity for your preservation. Upon which, covering his eyes with his hand, he departed.

The next thing the queen did, was to distribute jewels to all her attendants, according to their birth and quality. That serenity which appeared in her countenance had chang’d their despair into gentle tears. At last, turning to the young prince; For you, my son, said she, I have reserved this casket: in it you will find jewels to an inestimable value, and sufficient for your support, to whatever state fortune may reduce you. Amedes will keep them for you, or employ them for your service. But for this emerald, set in the form of a heart, which I have hitherto caused you to wear about your neck, and which you shall convert into a ring, when you put off the habit of a child, never part with it on any account. About four years since, your father caus’d us all three to be represented in relievo upon the same stone; himself in the form of Osiris, me in the resemblance of Isis, and you like Horus, standing between us. The ingenious workman afterwards, by his command, cut this stone into three pieces, according to the bigness of the figures. One of them is that you wear, another is set in the ring I now take from my finger, and put into your casket. These two, when divested of their ornaments, will exactly correspond with the third, which your father has himself upon his finger. Adieu, my son! may the gods protect you, and receive me! Sethos, touch’d with all the sentiments his tender years were susceptible of, reply’d; I receive, madam, what you are pleas’d to bestow upon me; I have given attention to what you have said; and when I am of riper years, I will endeavour to do as you have done. The queen press’d his hand, and made a sign for him to be remov’d. She spoke no more, and an hour afterwards yielded to the fatal stroke.

I will not pretend to give a description of the grief which overspread Memphis, and all the provinces of the kingdom, as this melancholy news reach’d them. The tears which were shed upon a bare apprehension of this catastrophe may give some idea of it. [12]⁠The Egyptians in former days were so much devoted to their sovereigns, that a mourning in the royal mansion was generally a domestick mourning in every family. They gave testimony of it in publick for forty days, by appearing with their garments rent, and in private by their austere fastings. But this last loss, the consequence of which every one was apprehensive of in his private concerns, fill’d each heart with inexpressible grief; insomuch that the priests, who, upon the like occasions, were wont to countenance the publick affliction, to do honour to the memory of their deceas’d kings, found themselves oblig’d, in the present incident, to calm the minds and hearts of the people, in order to preserve that decorum which was, as they said, becoming a civiliz’d nation, and to render to the manes of the deceas’d queen an homage more agreeable to her virtues. They declared, that she died in peace, and that the oracles had removed her apprehensions for the destiny of her son and people. They alledged the state of rest and felicity, into which they had so much reason to hope the gods would admit her at her approaching obsequies. They endeavour’d in short, by all manner of consolatory advices, to asswage the pain of that wound, which time alone could heal, and which they, however, fear’d time might render more sensible.

Preparations were in the mean time making for the funeral pomp. No people ever came up to the Egyptians in this particular. Their authors, and even ours say, [13]⁠that they were the first who had any notion of the immortality of the soul. And, indeed, it appears by the simplicity of their palaces, in comparison with the magnificency of their tombs, that they were more sollicitous for the eternal mansions of a future life, than for the transitory abodes of this. We must however allow, that their doctrine on this head was not very consistent. For, not to mention the Metempsychosis, which Pythagoras was for establishing among them, and which made the souls of men, when freed from the body, pass from one animal to another, till after the space of three thousand years, they again enter’d into human bodies; the wisest men allow’d of a place of torment in hell, for the souls of the wicked, and delightful fields for those of the good. So that either opinion, or a mixture, such as it was, of both, left nothing in those costly tombs, but a dead corpse, which was very far from being eternal; but which, however, by the art they had of embalming, was more durable than the tombs themselves.

Those who were appointed to perform this last function, had already taken charge of the queen’s corpse. [14]⁠They were officers of the second rank, very much respected in Egypt, for the knowledge they had of the secrets of the priesthood, though they were no other than domesticks of the priests. The operation was thirty days in performing. Having, by means of a lateral incision in the body, taken out all the intestines, excepting the heart and reins, they anointed it both outwardly and inwardly with a certain gum compos’d of cedar, myrrh, cinnamon, and other perfumes; which not only preserved it for several ages, but caus’d it to diffuse an agreeable odour. They had, besides, the secret of giving a corpse its pristine form; insomuch that the deceas’d seem’d to have retain’d the air of his countenance, and the port of his person. The hairs, not only of his head, but of his eye-brows and eye-lids, were distinctly preserv’d; and what is yet more surprizing, they restor’d to him an appearance of plumpness, and a colour and freshness as natural, as in the healthiest part of his life. Some private persons chose rather to preserve the bodies of their relations, thus embalmed, in closets made for that purpose, than to deposite them in sepulchres already made, or to erect new ones for them; and it was a singular satisfaction to them to behold their ancestors with the same physiognomies, and in the same attitudes as when living.

But it was not so with respect to kings: for, if they did not make any particular disposition to the contrary, they were all, in which-ever dynasty they reign’d, convey’d to the labyrinth situate in the middle of the lake Moeris, on the borders of Libya. This edifice, which in magnificence surpass’d all the labours of Greece put together, even according to the testimony of the Greeks themselves, was not built, as Herodotus imagin’d, by the twelve kings who reign’d at one and the same time, after the retreat of Sabacon the Ethiopian: For he did not make himself master of Egypt till two or three hundred years before the invasion of Cambyses: whereas this labyrinth was by far more antient than Sesostris himself, and was erected when Egypt was only divided into twelve provinces. The kings of the four dynasties, being all at peace, had all contributed to this memorable work, of which the upper part was dedicated to the sun, and the subterranean to the infernal deities. And this it was occasion’d [15]⁠Homer’s calling the entrance into hell the gates of the sun. The twelve immense palaces, which it contain’d, represented, according to their design, all Egypt; and for that reason they mark’d out their several sepulchres, for them and their successors, in the subterranean vaults. But the imaginations of the people, added to the ceremonies performed by the priests before they admitted a corps into these gloomy mansions, where few of the living had ever enter’d, gave occasion to a great deal of fiction. It was an article of religion to believe, that the innumerable windings, with which they were told, and with truth, that these subterraneous passages abounded, conducted their good kings to delightful regions, but that tyrants were forbidden even an entrance into the labyrinth. The manner of these ceremonies was this. When the corpse was brought to the bank of a lake call’d Charon, over which the passage lay to the gate of the infernal deities, it was there stopp’d by an incorruptible tribunal, compos’d of sixteen priests of the labyrinth, with their chief, and two judges chosen out of each of the twelve ancient nomes. The high-priest, who conducted the deceas’d king, having there made an harangue, the president of the tribunal gave leave to all the assistants to lay such charges against the deceas’d, as they could prove. They then proceeded to judgment, by which the corpse was either sentenc’d to be deliver’d to their ferryman, whom they call’d Charon, or to be depriv’d of sepulture. This sentence pass’d by scrutiny, that is, by certain tickets, which the judges threw into that terrible urn, the very idea of which was powerful enough to keep the ancient kings within the bounds of justice.

To conclude, To whatever sepulchre the corpse of kings, or even of private persons, were carry’d, they were liable⁠[16] to an examination before judges, who were always men of the greatest reputation and probity. They were only eligible out of those who were initiated; and, if for a private person, they were upon every occasion chosen by men taken out of each class of the freemen of a city, or of the subjects of the kingdom, when for a sovereign. And the tickets in which the names of the judges were written, were open’d and number’d in publick view. But for those kings who were to be interr’d in the labyrinth, all Egypt, according to the division of the twelve ancient nomes, had their suffrage in the election of the judges. And besides, at this labyrinth alone was perform’d that great number of other ceremonies, from whence Orpheus the poet, whom we shall soon see in Egypt, and who being present at the obsequies of another king, borrow’d thence the greater part of that description of hell which he has given us in his verses; and which was afterwards copy’d by Homer in Greek, and by Virgil in Latin.

The fortieth day after the queen’s decease being now come, all was ready for setting forward with the funeral procession, which was to march the forty leagues between Memphis and the labyrinth in ten days and ten nights, according as the several stages were regulated. The porch of the palace was clos’d up from all approaches of the sun, and illuminated with lamps: Under it was plac’d a large chariot with four wheels, all cover’d over with gold. At the hinder part of the chariot was erected a throne, with an ascent of three steps, cover’d with a large crown of gold, richly adorn’d with precious stones, and supported by a sphinx of the same metal, with large wings display’d, upon the head of which the edge of the crown rested. From the top of the crown fell down in large folds, between the sphinx’s wings, a cloth of purple in the form of a pavilion, cover’d with hieroglyphicks richly embossed in gold, and representing all the virtues. The two extremities of this pavilion join’d and cross’d one another at the front of the chariot. This chariot had two poles, and was drawn by sixteen horses, four in front. Their harness was exceeding magnificent, as on a day of triumph. But nothing was comparable to the richness and elegancy with which the queen was array’d. She was plac’d upon the throne in a sitting posture, and so artfully fasten’d into it, that no jolt, however violent, could give her any motion, which might make her have the appearance of a corpse. The whole machine was moreover in such manner suspended between its shafts, that nothing could bring it out of a level. And besides, the roads, which of themselves were very good in Egypt, had been levell’d for the conveniency of this procession. In a word, this chariot seems to have serv’d as a model for that in which afterwards the corpse of Alexander was transported from Babylon to⁠[17] Alexandria. The queen, who had her face and bosom bare, but her eyes clos’d, seem’d to enjoy the sweets of an agreeable slumber amidst the noise of trumpets and kettle-drums, with which the air resounded while the procession was rang’d in order. What melancholy reflexions were there not renew’d in the hearts of those who lov’d her, and had been depriv’d of her sight since her death, or since her sickness! They saw her, they spoke to her; but she was no more. Those who had been the nearest devoted to her, the better to suppress their affliction, avoided looking on her for a time; but overpower’d at last by their curiosity and affection, they cast their eyes upon her, and finding yet the same features, and the same graces, they immediately turn’d them away, and melted into tears.

In the mean time the queen’s houshold, consisting of six thousand horse, march’d in the front, leaving the care of the royal corpse to the priests. These officers were rang’d four and four, with their arms pointed downwards: The din of their warlike instruments sounding in mournful tone, and mix’d with periodical intervals of silence, pierced to the soul. Next to these follow’d the societies of the city of Memphis, distinguish’d by proper habits, but cover’d with black crape, on horse-back, as the former. And among this number of people, which already amounted to twelve thousand, not a single word was utter’d during the whole procession. The great officers of the court, and after them the princes, excepting the king and the presumptive heir to the crown, who never appear’d publickly at funerals, came next, four and four, as the former, clad in purple robes, sitting in a kind of niches, cover’d with black, and plac’d upon shafts, having the ensigns of their dignities at their feet, and carry’d each upon the shoulders of eight slaves. These three numerous troops began their march by day; and at the close of the evening the ladies, who made the most doleful part of the procession, began to appear. They were seated four and four in sixty chariots, cover’d above, but open on the sides, and drawn each by eight horses, two and two. Both horses and chariots were in a manner bury’d under their coverings of black silk, strew’d all over with tears of silver. These ladies, muffled up in their veils from head to foot, resembled so many spectres. In the last chariot sate the chief lady of the deceas’d queen’s court, holding before her a child, who, being veil’d like herself, was known by none, but respected by all. However, the most prudent did imagine that Amedes, not only willing to let the young prince see the solemnity of a trial of the dead in the bloom of his youth, was at the same time cautious of leaving him in the palace in the absence of all his deceas’d mother’s servants.

After these ladies, whose sobs and groans heighten’d the grief of the spectators, and who were continually seen drying away their tears under their veil, as a contrast which could not but be very affecting, immediately follow’d all those instruments of musick which in Egypt were made use of at their highest festivals, as the citterns, shalms, and hautboys; which were answer’d periodically by trumpets and kettle-drums, to proclaim the approach of the queen’s chariot. Those who sounded these instruments, and even the leaders of the chariot, and the twelve body-slaves who march’d on the right and on the left of it, were clad in their festival habits, which contradiction to their mournful aspects and profound silence, was to the spectators a lively emblem of the deceitfulness and brevity of human joy. The queen herself was adorn’d with a sort of scarf of flowers, which crossing over her left shoulder, met and join’d under her right arm; and in her hands she held festoons, which hanging over her knees, reach’d down to her feet. This custom of the Egyptians was to signify, that tho’ the death of virtuous persons was a matter of sorrow to the surviving, it was to them the entrance into peace, a happiness, and a triumph. The queen’s chariot was follow’d by the priests. The high-priest of Memphis, who was to present the queen to the judges, was carry’d next to the chariot, stretch’d out at length in an open coffin, like a corpse, clad in white, and his head and face cover’d with a white veil. All the other priests, clad and veil’d in the same manner, leaning with one hand on an augur’s wand, curb’d at the top, and holding in the other a ring or circle of gold, to which hung a sort of Tau, march’d on foot in two single lines of five hundred each, and as far distant from one another as the breadth of the roads would allow. In the middle between these two lines, at certain distances, were carry’d standards, on which were represented the several deities, or the symbols of the deities of Egypt, as the Apis of Memphis, the Colossus of Abyddus, the Eagle of Thebes, the Spar-hawk of Tanis, the Anubis of Cynopolis, the Vase of Canope, the Goat of Mendez, the Wolf of Hermontis, the Lamb of Sais; and so of the rest. For there were priests out of all the cities of Egypt at the funerals of their kings, even tho’ they were actually in war with one another. And the class of priests, with those of the labourers and traders, were never involv’d in the differences of the states. On the other hand, the death of kings was a means of reconciling the priests of different cities, who seem’d to have very hot disputes concerning the various, and oftentimes contrary deities they ador’d. Our historians speaking of Egypt⁠[18] have remark’d, that those kings, who had many cities of different worship in their dominions, were glad to keep up this spirit of dissention among the priests; lest, if they should unite, their influence, which was very great over the vulgar, might set them up above their kings. To conclude, the whole procession was clos’d by a great number of baggage-waggons, which kept off the people that follow’d.

They frequently pass’d thro’ cities, some greater, some less. The number of them, as well on this road, as every where else, had given occasion to the opinion of old, that there were more cities in Egypt alone, than in all the world besides. In these cities it was that the stages were mark’d out at almost equal distances; and near every one of them was the house destin’d for their entertainment; from which they march’d out again to take their stations at set-times. The queen’s chariot was plac’d under tents, which were erected for that end at every stage, where it was guarded by other priests, not belonging to the procession. This chariot, by which the whole procession was rul’d, never mov’d but in the night-season, and but three hours together, during which time it advanc’d about two leagues; and then, resting four hours, resum’d the march again till day-light, and so lay by, waiting the return of the evening.

The whole procession being arriv’d, was rang’d in order upon the plain to leave a free passage for the queen’s chariot, and the people that had follow’d the procession behind the waggons. They then advanc’d to the brink of the lake Charon, [19]⁠and there were plac’d on each side of the chariot on a spacious plain, on the right and on the left: And the priests remain’d rang’d behind the chariot in a strait line. At the approach of this awful tribunal, compos’d of judges, who were rever’d as the gods themselves, the high-priest, who was to be the queen’s advocate, and all those who were concern’d for her memory, were seiz’d with unexpected terrors: For if those things which are really good, are sometimes accounted bad by the injustice of men, it is more to be apprehended, that those causes which to us appear good, may be really bad in the judgment of the gods.

The judges were plac’d upon a large and deep scaffold in the form of an alcove, rais’d two steps; about which their seats, to the number of forty one, form’d a semi-circle. Their under-habits were a sort of tunicks, or white vests, like the priests or initiates, over which they wore scarlet robes like judges. Round their necks they had chains of gold, at each of which hung an emerald, with the image of truth⁠[20] engraven upon it; and they were rang’d in the following order: The high-priest, who presided over the tribunal, was plac’d in the center on a seat rais’d somewhat higher than the rest, and on both sides of him sat the two judges elected by the nome of Memphis, who were only initiates, of whom Amedes was the chief. Below them on either side were the sixteen priests of the labyrinth, and then the twenty-two initiates appointed by the other nomes. The urn was plac’d in the front of the tribunal, on the brink of the uppermost step; and the officers of the second order were seated upon the lowermost, in habits proper for the functions they were to perform after judgment given. Every thing being thus dispos’d, the horses taken out of the queen’s chariot, and the poles and pavilion remov’d; the high-priest of Memphis, who directed the procession, being mounted upon the foot of the chariot, standing, and with his head uncover’d, made the following oration:

“Inexorable deities of hell! behold here our queen, whom you have appointed a victim, in the bloom of her years, and in the greatest necessity of her people. We come to intreat you will vouchsafe her that repose, of which her loss may shortly deprive us. She has been faithful in every duty to the gods. She has not dispens’d with the outward exercise of religion under pretext of affairs of state; nor has that exercise alone supply’d in her the place of virtue. Amidst the cares which employ’d her in her counsels, and that gaiety which she sometimes put on at court, the divine law, which was ever present to her mind, and rul’d in her heart, was always visible. Of all the festivals, at which the superiority of her rank, the success of her undertakings, or the love of her people, have engag’d her to be an assistant, none have been so agreeable and pleasant to her, as those which have call’d her to our temples. She has not suffer’d herself to be led into the paths of injustice, as many kings have done, in hopes of making ample satisfaction by her offerings; and her magnificence towards the gods, has been the fruits of her piety, not the tributes of remorse. Instead of countenancing animosity, vexation and persecution, by the counsels of an ill-tim’d piety, she has drawn no other maxims from religion but those of lenity; and has never put severity in practice, but when the common course of justice, and the security of the state, has demanded it. She has exercis’d all the virtues of the best of kings with that modest diffidence, which has hardly allow’d her to enjoy that happiness which she procur’d for her people. A glorious defence of the frontiers, peace settled both at home and abroad, and every other ornament and institution, have generally in other princes been the effect of politick wisdom, which the gods, judges of their real springs, don’t always reward: But with our queen all these things have been the result of virtue, and have had no other principles but a love of her duty, and a view to the publick felicity. Far from regarding the sovereign power as a means to indulge her passions, it has been a rule to her to make the tranquillity of the state the ease of her own mind, and a standing maxim, that patience and affability could alone make her the ruler of the hearts of men. Vengeance never so much as enter’d into her thoughts, but abandoning to those beneath her the shame of embracing every opportunity of exercising their hatred, she, like the gods, pardon’d, when she had the power of punishing. She curb’d the rebellious, not so much because they oppos’d her will, as in consideration that they were an obstacle to her good designs. She submitted her judgment to the counsel of the wise, and every order of men in her kingdom to the equity of its laws. She subdu’d her enemies from without by her courage, and a strict observation of her ingagements, and her domestick enemies by her fortitude, and the happy success of her undertakings. She never suffer’d a secret, or a falsity, to proceed out of her mouth; and that dissimulation, which is so inseparable from sovereignty, in her never extended beyond silence. She never gave way to the importunity of the ambitious; nor did the assiduities of parasites ever run away with the rewards due to the services of the absent. Distinguish’d favourites were unknown in her reign; even that friendship which she practis’d and cultivated, had never with her the ascendant over merit, tho’ often less affectionate and less engaging. She bestow’d favours upon her friends, and gave the most important employs to those who best were able to discharge them. She heap’d honours upon the great, without exempting them from duty; and eas’d the burden of her people, without taking away that necessity which was a spur to their industry. She has not, by creating new offices, given an opportunity to others to take part with the prince, and unequally for him, of the publick revenue; and the meanest of the people have paid the taxes rated and levy’d upon them, without any regret, because they have not serv’d to render their equals more opulent, haughty, or wicked. Convinc’d, as she was, that the providence of heaven was not exclusive of the vigilance of man, she prevented publick misery by a regular and timely provision; and thus rendring every year equal, her wisdom, in some measure, over-rul’d the seasons and elements. By her favourable reception of all those whom the fame of her prudent government drew from other the most remote countries, she facilitated negociations, maintain’d peace, and rais’d her kingdom to its highest pitch of opulency and glory; and at the same time enforc’d, by her example, that hospitality, which till then was not enough cultivated among the Egyptians. When any of the great maxims of government were to be put in practice, and it was necessary to pursue the publick good, tho’ attended with private inconveniencies, with what a generous indifferency has she not endur’d the murmurings of a populace, blind, and perhaps stirr’d up by the secret calumnies of those who, tho’ they knew better, might not find their private advantage in the publick felicity? Putting frequently her own glory to stake for the interest of an ungrateful people, she has waited the event of time for her own justification; and tho’ snatch’d away in the very beginning of her course, the purity of her intention, the justness of her views, and her assiduity in the execution of them, have procur’d her the advantage of a glorious memory, and an universal regret. To be in the better capacity of watching over the whole of the kingdom, she confided the several under-branches of management to able ministers, who were oblig’d to depute subalterns, and these others, for whose conduct she could be no ways answerable, as well because of their remoteness, as their number: I dare therefore affirm before you her judges, and before those of her subjects, who now hear me, that if, among such a number of inhabitants as this city of Memphis, and the other five thousand⁠[21] cities of this dynasty are known to contain, it may appear, that, contrary to her intention, any one has been oppress’d, the queen is not only excusable in regard of the impossibility of providing for all, but is praise-worthy, in that, knowing the bounds of human understanding, she has kept to the center of publick business, and has fix’d her whole attention upon the first causes and motions of things. Unhappy those princes with whom some particular subjects only have cause to be pleas’d, when the publick has reason to complain! and tho’ private persons may sometimes suffer, they have no right to blame their princes, when the body of the state is sound, and the principles of government salutary. However, as irreproachable as the queen has appear’d to us, with regard to men, with respect to you, ye just gods, she builds her hopes of repose and bliss upon your clemency alone.”

As soon as the high-priest had finish’d his discourse, he cover’d his head and face with a veil, and prostrated himself on the chariot where he stood, in expectation of judgment. The judges immediately enter’d into consultation in the middle of the place; and after having conferr’d some few minutes, retook their seats. The president of the tribunal then ask’d the whole assembly with a loud voice, If any one had any thing to lay to the charge of the queen’s memory? Some of those who had been prejudiced in their private affairs, by some regulations of great advantage to the publick, had prepar’d complaints, more justifiable on their parts, than of validity against the queen: But the last plea, made by the high-priest of Memphis in her defence, had put a stop to their intentions, and they were the most zealous of that numerous assembly in promoting, by their applauses, her entrance into the mansions of the blessed. When (as in the case before us) no charge is enter’d against a deceas’d monarch, the urn is of no use, but he is admitted by general assent. The president of the tribunal having therefore look’d round upon all the judges, and receiv’d from each of them the sign of their consent, said, “Sacred priest of Memphis, arise; the gods approve the testimony you have born concerning your queen, and are going to confer upon her the reward due to good kings. May her successors walk in her footsteps, and, by rendring their people happy, treasure up greater blessings for themselves.” He then commanded the chief officer of the second order to touch the queen with his wand, of which our poets have made Mercury’s Caduceus: At the same time turning to Amedes, the chief of the two judges appointed by the nome of Memphis, who sate at his right-hand, he said: “Wise minister of your queen, you, whose prudent counsels have had so great part in the actions which bring her this day to glory, accompany the holy priest, who conducted her hither; help to convey her into the bark, and from thence into that temple, the gates of which are shut against the wicked, be they living or dead: We hasten to open these gates to her, and to receive her ourselves.” The judges immediately arose, and enter’d the temple of the infernal deities by a private way. The dead, who were oblig’d to enter the subterranean gate, had no other passage to come at it, but by crossing the lake, the breadth of which was in that part about a quarter of a league, and upon which no other bark was admitted but that of Charon. The officers having loosen’d the cords with which the queen was fasten’d to her throne, and laid her in the same coffin which had brought the high-priest, she was convey’d into the bark, and the high-priest, together with Amedes, having first paid the usual tribute to Charon, accompany’d her. They were no sooner arriv’d at the gates of the labyrinth, but the people, who follow’d them with their eyes, heard a noise as of thunder, which they believ’d to be real, and look’d upon it as a miracle which always happen’d when the temple of the infernal deities was open’d: But in reality it was no more than the hollow sound of the brazen gates at the entrance, which was redoubled by the repercussion of the vaults, and by the neighbouring echo’s.

The corpse was no sooner entered into the labyrinth, than a joy succeeded as general as that of the preceding mourning; and as sudden as that of a person, seeing his dearest friend risen from the dead. This joy proceeded from the idea they conceived of the happiness their sovereign enjoy’d in the mansions of the blessed. Even those, who could not so soon overcome their grief, were oblig’d to conceal it under the most visible demonstrations of joy. The populace, in whom nothing is more easy than a transition from one extreme of passion to another, and to whom besides every opportunity for merriment is acceptable, omitted in their return no frolick or jollity to which Egypt could administer on such a pilgrimage. Persons of the greatest distinction took pleasure in joining with the commonalty, as well on the road, as in the several cities they pass’d through: but they were easily discover’d by the magnificence of their habits, which they had brought with them in the baggage-waggons, that clos’d the procession; and they put on these habits, either in the neighbouring cities, or under costly tents which were erected on every side. As the Egyptians in general think themselves noble, the peasants, men and women, being neatly attir’d, mix’d even with princes and princesses, not only at the same dances, and sports, but at the same tables under tents in the meadows, or in the middle of the open places in cities. The profusion of wines and provisions which are expended on this occasion is inexpressible; and nothing can give a more adequate idea of the plenty of Egypt, and of the riches of its inhabitants. All familiarity was allow’d in discourse, and every thing was matter of joy. Not a single instance was ever known of any quarrel amidst this agreeable confusion; because nothing was transacted with an intent to offend or prejudice. Even the great, as they were of easy access, and affable to persons of all conditions, drew upon themselves, by so much the more, those obsequious regards, which politeness inspires. All such as excell’d in exercises of strength or ingenuity resorted thither in companies, and diverted the spectators with amusing sports on the land and upon the canals. Troops of satyrs and nymphs, an idea of whom the worship of the god Pan had cultivated in Egypt, long before it pass’d into Greece, were seen sallying out of the thickets, or rushing into the waters.

The nights were more dazzling than the days, occasion’d by the illuminations in the cities, which at a distance, and in the fields, made a more glorious appearance, than in the cities themselves. Nor is it possible for painting to represent, or words to express their lustre; especially on the banks of the lake Moeris, that sea of sweet water, the work of mens hands, which, according to our best authors,⁠[22] was one hundred and fifty leagues in circumference, and where those illuminations were doubly represented by their reflections in the waters. An infinite number of gallies, richly adorn’d, and illuminated like palaces, cruis’d upon the lake, or row’d from port to port, at the will of those who possess’d them, sure always of meeting with some agreeable amusement which ever way they directed their course. The prodigious concourse of people, the perpetual sound of musical instruments, and the frequent shouts of joy, left no room for complaint in this affluence of all manner of diversions, except it were for want of silence and sleep. In a word, the feast of Diana at Bubastes, or the nocturnal festivals of Minerva at Sais, which are yet celebrated annually, though with less pomp than licentiousness, are but faint images of these festivals on the return from the labyrinth, the ceremony of which drew together the most considerable part of Egypt.

⁠[23]⁠The temperature of the climate in this country is exceeding favourable to these sorts of festivals. But more particularly in spring (which was the season at that time) the serenity of the days is as certain as the coolness of the nights; and what is more, winter there differs very little from summer. It is true, the four months of the rise and fall of the Nile, compar’d with the remainder of the year, make a very different appearance. For in these four months, or thereabouts, the whole country being overflowed, makes the cities appear like so many islands of different bigness, which seem to arise out of the waters: and during the whole remainder of the year, where these waters were, are gardens cover’d with every species of flowers of the spring; or fields fill’d with all the fruits of the earth in autumn. These gardens or fields are surrounded with little canals, which flow out of others which are larger, as these again do from others yet larger, even to those which proceed immediately from the Nile, and which are like unto rivers, being intended to encompass large provinces, and to distribute themselves successively, till they serve as inclosures to the possessions of private persons. Funerals were never perform’d during the time of the inundations, nor never deferr’d, but on that account. The festivals of return from the labyrinth lasted always twice as long as the march of the procession thither: So that the king of Memphis had not an account in form of the accomplishment of the queen’s obsequies, till the one-and-thirtieth day after the departure of the procession.

End of the First Book.

BOOK II.

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

If Daluca closely besieg’d the king even when she could not flatter herself with any approaching hopes; it is easy to believe, that she redoubled her officiousness after the death of Nephte, who, by the indolence of this prince, left the government vacant; for as Amedes had not held that part which he had in the administration, immediately from Osoroth, he had laid down all his employs, even before he departed to attend the queen’s obsequies, at which he was to assist as a judge. The king, whom Daluca never quitted, and who in the first days of mourning had had more opportunities of being alone with her, was wont to communicate to her such concerns as he could not avoid knowing, and to confide in her for the execution of what they had concerted together. This weak prince, who had enjoy’d that tranquillity, which the wisdom of Nephte had procur’d him, as a person enjoys health, without knowing the value of it, look’d upon a peaceable government as a thing easy in itself, and which any one was capable of supporting: or, if he imagin’d that any particular talent was necessary, he was tempted to believe, that Daluca’s courage and vivacity supply’d to advantage the want of Nephte’s modest and sober virtues. So that whereas considerations of conveniency only had made him discharge the burden of the government upon the late queen; it was by a kind of choice that he solemnly resign’d it to Daluca, who had no title to pretend to it. He advis’d her however, in particular, to consult with Amedes upon any emergency. Daluca answer’d him, That the deceas’d queen having intrusted Amedes with the education of the young prince, this employ was sufficient to take up his whole time; and she maliciously added, that she would have the assistance of ministers yet more devoted to the king’s will than he was.

The new regent, when she took the helm of state into her hands, behaved with that presumption which is common in persons of no worth, when succeeding those of the most distinguish’d merit. However, the aversion of the publick plainly shewn with regard to her, and the honourable mention continually made of the deceas’d queen, gall’d her to the soul; and she could never have persuaded herself that the entrance into sovereign power could have been so disagreeable. This possess’d her mind, from the very beginning of her administration, with such asperity, as could not but prove fatal to her in the sequel: and this lady, who, in the earliest hopes of her future grandeur, was wont sometimes to distribute her chimerical benevolence to those who were in her intimacy, without ever proposing to do any good to the publick, as soon as ever she had attained her wishes, thought no more of doing service to any one. The hatred which thereby became deeply rooted in the hearts as well of the courtiers as the people, made her reflect more seriously upon the project she had before conceiv’d of espousing the king, and attaining to the royal dignity. This indeed was the secret inclination of the prince; but till then it had not been a practice in Egypt for kings to marry below their rank; and so scrupulous had they been on this head, that they took their own sisters to wife, if suitable princesses were not to be found in the neighbouring courts. This custom had taken footing among them independant of this pretext; and the Ptolemies, though originally Grecians, comply’d with it.

Notwithstanding the care the king took to absent himself from all affairs of state, and to be unacquainted with what was transacted in the heart of his kingdom; he could not, however, be ignorant, that the choice he had made of Daluca, to confide his authority in, had given uneasiness to his subjects. But the ambition of this lady, who thought the power she had over him uncontroulable, prompted her to make use of that very argument for her ascending the throne, which ought to have mov’d him to deprive her of the administration. She took a proper time to inform Osoroth, with tears in her eyes, that the favours he had honour’d her with, and her intire devotion to him, had excited envy against her. She observ’d, that her zeal for the king’s person began at a time when she could not be suspected of any future views. Even now, added she, that my enemies apprehend it is time I should receive some reward for my disinterested affection, I abandon all, and consent that my fidelity become unprofitable to me for your service. I accepted of the administration, only that it might not devolve into the hands of some secret enemies to that absolute power inherent in you: but you may, if you think proper, give yourself up to them. I will even acknowledge, continued she, in a more resolute tone, that I set too high a rate upon the continuance of my administration. But as the reformers of government have dared to bring their complaints even to you, either you must allow them just, and banish me from your court, or confound their presumption, by heaping new honours upon me. Without abandoning my affection for you, which is an impossibility, I, from this moment, renounce all the functions you have constrain’d me to accept of, unless attended with the supream dignity, which alone was the ease and glory of the late queen’s administration: Such a resolution, hitherto without example, will convince the world you dare exert your authority. The king, who till then had struggled with the consideration of his own honour, and his son’s interest, gave way to his natural weakness, upon false principles of courage; and by a very improper marriage confirm’d that power, which he had unseasonably conferr’d upon a woman, who was about to crush his age with care and troubles: acting in this respect, like other weak princes, who instead of remedying the errors they have already enter’d into, endeavour to support them by the commission of still greater evils.

Osoroth, however, conscious of the irregularity of his choice, and Daluca of the inferiority of her birth, did not presume to convert the publick discontent into matter of rejoicings. The nuptials and coronation were both celebrated with very little ceremony: and it was not without pain, the queen could at first behave in a splendor so much superior to her former condition. Her pride however soon recover’d upon the birth of a son, for whose advancement she became immediately sollicitous. But as she could no ways carry her views to the height her ambition suggested to her, but to the prejudice of young Sethos, she perceiv’d the difficulties she had to encounter with, in attempting that injustice, and pursuing such crimes as she foresaw would be necessary for attaining her end, so long as that spirit of equity, reason and order, which had been establish’d for several reigns, was predominant at court, and amongst the chief men of the kingdom. Her first attempt then was to corrupt the morals of the court; hoping, with reason, that she should then find such persons to fill up all the great offices, as would be base enough not to contradict, or wicked enough to further her designs. But as a mark of her more refin’d policy and capacity for perpetrating mischief, she concluded, that the most unsuspected, and at the same time sure and speedy means of corrupting the court, was to introduce, as much as possible, a relaxation of manners, and levity of mind. She knew by particular experience, that those men who are enemies to all application and business, and wholly given up to their imaginations and pleasures; tho’ they might at first be endu’d with that common probity, which costs nothing, were no proof against those vices which offered them any advantage. Virtue never takes root in a mind possessed with vanity; and opportunity either finds or renders such a one capable of every crime.

Daluca judg’d then, that to put this her design in practice, she must begin by breaking off gradually those assemblies and conversations which were usually held in the palace towards evening, among men of sense and discretion, that idle discourses might supply their place; and that above all, it would be necessary to supplant the usual exercises of the young Egyptian nobility, and substitute vain amusements in their room. But before I proceed to the method she took to introduce this first depravity, which was to be the source of all the rest, I believe it may be very proper to give an idea of the manners of this nation, with regard to the intercourse of wit and science which flourished in it; and the care that was taken to enforce whatever could ennoble the heart, cultivate the mind, and invigorate the body⁠[24]⁠. This account will at the same time serve as a general plan of the education of young Sethos, which we shall speak more particularly of hereafter.

The Greeks were as yet a barbarous nation, with regard to their custom of locking up their wives, the savage rather than warlike education of their children, and the preference they gave to bodily force, beyond the virtues of the mind; when the Egyptians, under the happiness of an uniform and wise government, had attain’d to politeness, which consisted more in the great principles of mildness and discretion, than in tiresome ceremonies. Human learning was the true source of this politeness: and as the sciences were very ancient in Egypt, the manners of that nation were early form’d. It has been a true observation, that good breeding never made its way into any nation but by means of learning. The Romans were an unciviliz’d people, till they learnt the sciences of the Greeks; as the Greeks themselves were, till they became acquainted with the knowledge of the Egyptians. And tho’ learned men are not always the most civiliz’d, it is nevertheless, to their writings, in philosophy, history, morality, and even poetry, that their fellow-citizens are indebted for the true foundation of their accomplishments.

The king’s palace at Memphis, which was situate on one side of a large square, opposite to the temple of the three deities, was the theatre of the arts and sciences. We have already observ’d, that the ancient kings of Egypt chose rather to shew their magnificence in the edifices they were to inhabit after their death, than in those they dwelt in while living. Pursuant to this principle their palaces made no appearance, either in themselves, or in those ornaments which regard only pageantry and luxury. But in recompence, nothing was omitted in them that contributed to the cultivation of the sciences; Witness the gardens of the king of Memphis, which contain’d every sort and species of known plants which Egypt had ever produc’d, and even all those peculiar plants which travellers had brought from the most distant climates, especially after the conquests of Sesostris. And besides, all the advantage which the due ordering and ranging of this immense variety of plants could possibly afford to the eye by beautiful views and prospects, was nicely observ’d. An elegant choice of the most agreeable flowers, which are singly planted in our modern parterres, cannot afford a sight equal to that of many large compartments, in which were seen in separate borders all the flowers simple or compound; which blew in the form of roses, pinks or lillies; or whose leaves took the shape of a vase, an umbrella, or a tuff; or in short, whose colours were either simple or mix’d.

On the wings of the parterre were planted the twenty species or kinds of palm-trees, in one single row on each side; one of flower- or male-palms, and the other of fruit- or female-palms. They thought this correspondence necessary to render the females fruitful, by the dust of the flowers which the wind convey’d to them from the males. A distinction of sex, which, tho’ more perceptible in palm-trees, may perhaps be the same in many other plants. The parterre had no other shelter but these two rows of palms; but there were two other shady walks under arch’d terrasses, to the very bottom of the garden. At the end of the parterre were two great woods separated by the continuation of the main walk, which were travers’d by an infinity of other lesser walks, that the sun never pierced. These two woods consisted of every species of those trees which are called barren, from the humble broom to the haughty cedar, ascending gradually from that side towards the parterre with their tops joining, which from the windows of the palace resembled a talus or glacis, and by the favour of the climate were ever green. Behind these woods were all sorts of plants, roots and pulse necessary in a kitchen-garden. And on the sides continued downwards, were planted every sort of wall- and other fruit-trees. But as they were design’d for no other use but to shew the extent of botany, there were no more than what might be sufficient to exhibit the several kinds or species.

The priests, who were the orderers and managers of this garden, had a passage to it thro’ a gallery at the top of a colonnade, which reached from their college behind the temple, and, bordering one side of the square by the river side, run along by the north wing of the palace, and so descended on the same side into the parterre. They had caus’d to be drawn and painted in natural colours, all the trees and plants of the whole garden; and all these figures were to be seen in one of those galleries of the palace, which were always open to the curious, even to strangers. These figures were more in number than the plants of the garden, because they represented a great many others which were not transplantable from the soil where they grew: Tho’ there was nothing wanting that could possibly be procured, not even coral, madrepores, lithophyton, and other marine petrifying plants. In short, every thing was there in the most exact order, according to their kinds and species: Plants as yet unknown, had in some manner their places assign’d them; and botany seem’d here to be compleat, independent of its parts, which in all appearance will never be so.

But as the curiosity of the Egyptians was not limited to this article alone, they had in the same gallery samples of all the productions of nature, treasured up in repositories, with grates before them of that metal call’d electrum, a mixture of gold and silver, ranged under classes in such excellent order, as rais’d curiosity in the most indifferent. Even nature herself may be said to have been honour’d in this collection by the multiplicity and variety of her own gifts, and her riches thus assorted, under the proper names and inscriptions which distinguish’d them, seem’d to exceed in number those same productions, when dispers’d in her own extensive field, and frequently unknown. In this collection were comprehended all such substances, as are gather’d from the surface, or taken out of the entrails of the earth, in their natural form, and but barely cleans’d and purify’d: Such were not only all manner of concretions, congelations and crystallisations, but all sorts of fossils, minerals and metals, and that in the several progressions and degrees from whence they receive different appellations. Hence they took their notions of all those juices and gums which proceed from plants or other bodies by exsudation, the greater part of which were either precious aromaticks, or sovereign antidotes: An immense treasure of delights in health, and of remedies in sickness. To conclude; Here was that grotto of Mercury, in which, as Orpheus says, was treasured up a collection of every good thing, and from whence no one ever return’d with the infirmities he brought.

From this gallery, set apart for natural history, was a passage into that destin’d for Chymistry.⁠[25] Some believe this science took its name from Egypt, formerly call’d Chemia; but that it took its rise there is certain. The renown’d Mercury of Thebes, whom the Egyptians look’d upon as the author of all their knowledge, gave name to that liquid metal which he found the method of extracting out of Cinnober, and which is found to be exactly the same with the Quicksilver which runs in the mines, the object of so many chymical experiments, and the miracle of nature, by the variety of colours which it assumes in its precipitation, and from whence it has likewise the name of Proteus. Mercury it was who taught them to reduce bodies by decomposition into their three principles, salt, sulphur and spirit; the latter of which, as the most sublime, has retain’d in our authors the name of Mercury. Several kings of Egypt follow’d his example in the study of chymistry; and Theophrastus tells us we are indebted to one of them for the artificial azure. The Egyptians, by an imitation of almost all compound bodies, had form’d, as it were by art, a second nature; and chymistry furnish’d them with nitres, vitriols and salts, always more beautiful, and sometimes more efficacious than those of nature. Seneca the philosopher assures us,⁠[26] that Democritus had learnt of them the art of softening ivory, and to give to flints the colour and lustre of emeralds. We have at least a recent and incontestable proof of the efficacy of their dissolvents, in that pearl of inestimable value and uncommon size, which Cleopatra took from her ear, and liquify’d in an instant in prepar’d vinegar, that Mark Anthony might swallow it: And it is certain, that this vinegar was no corrosive dissolvent, because it was drunk without danger.

The testimonies of antiquity have gone yet farther with regard to the Egyptians; and we are plainly told, that Mercury, or Hermes Trismegistus, taught them the secret of transforming all metals into gold, call’d for that reason the Hermetical philosophy. As a proof of which they alledge the vast extent of their riches, which, say they, one single mine of gold, the only one they knew, could never have furnish’d. Witness the ship of cedar, of four hundred and twenty foot long, which Sesostris caus’d to be plated on the inside with silver, and to be cover’d with gold without; the astronomical circle of massive gold in the tomb of Ismandes, which by the account Diodorus gives, was of the thickness of a cubit, or a foot and a half, and in circumference three hundred sixty five cubits; a great number of temples of gold dedicated, according to the same author, by Osiris to Jupiter, Juno, and other gods; temples so large, that priests were appointed to officiate in them; and to conclude, so many other works, which, tho’ but of marble or stone, cost more than the former. Notwithstanding all which, the opinion I am of, that the integral parts of all bodies are determin’d to their nature from the formation of the earth, would alone hinder my granting, to any one whomever, the power of transmuting them; or at least allowing that their change can be effected by operations so imperfect and so short as are those of mankind, in comparison with the subtlety and extreme length of those of nature. Besides, wise men don’t doubt but this true philosopher’s stone, of which Mercury or Hermes was the inventor, was the commerce which this first king of Thebes establish’d in Egypt. And in reality, it is not the quantity of matter, either gold or silver, be it taken from the mines, or the laboratories of the chymists, that renders a nation opulent. The mines of Norway, Germany, Spain and Africa, don’t make the inhabitants of those countries one jot the richer. The continual circulation of a moderate quantity of this matter, and a perpetual commerce, with the productions of a soil, and the fruits of industry, have rais’d nations to extreme plenty, who have no mines either of gold or silver. We must however grant, that the Egyptians closely pursu’d this secret of Hermes, taken in its literal sense; and we may even conjecture, that the real knowledge they attain’d to in the art of physick, was owing to their vain labours in quest of the philosophical gold.

This chymical gallery led to another appropriated to anatomy. The dissections were always perform’d in the priests college; but they brought into the palace entire and natural demonstrations, consisting of the bones, muscles, arteries and veins of most animals, either of the air, earth, or water: And their entrails, shewn separately, were made more discernable by being laid open, or by injections. Pliny relates, that the ancient kings of Egypt did not think it beneath them to assist themselves at dissections. It is certain at least, that Æsculapius, king of Memphis, being the first author of physick, was likewise the inventor of anatomy. But Egypt having since embrac’d a more regular form of government, the several functions were better distributed, and the particular professions of the sciences devolv’d upon the priests, or their subalterns. The practice of embalming human bodies, and even those of animals, most of which were sacred with them, in one city or other, had render’d them extremely knowing in the outward and inward construction of all living bodies. The several devastations in Egypt which have robb’d their catacombs of an infinity of mummies and bones, are even to this day of great help to the study of this science; And the famous Galen, physician to our august Emperours Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, excludes from the profound knowledge of anatomy those who did not come for instruction from these objects to the academies of Alexandria, tho’ now held by the Greeks.

The knowledge the Egyptians had in anatomy, was a consequence of their curiosity in living creatures. I don’t speak of the custom yet in practice in Egypt of hatching the eggs of fowls destin’d for the nourishment of mankind, in furnaces made for that purpose, which prodigiously increases their number. But the kings of Memphis had, besides the garden I have above describ’d, a large inclosure, with a park and proper conveniencies for four-footed beasts, canals and basons for fish and amphibious creatures, and aviaries for birds. And here were frequently represented sundry sports of these animals, tam’d and train’d up to surprizing exercises. [27]⁠Crocodiles were seen floating upon the surface of the canals and basons with men on their backs, who made them perform all sorts of evolutions, or walking on dry land, led by chains, and often obedient to their master’s voice alone. The same evolutions were perform’d by the Hippopotamus, or River-Horse, whose aspect alone was so hideous, that it was believ’d fire proceeded out of his nostrils. The bones of this animal are shewn in several cities of Greece for the bones of giants. We have seen, even in the days of the Ptolomies, when the sciences began to decline in Egypt, Cynocephali, a sort of apes, of which they made their hieroglyphical Anubis, that were taught to play regularly on the guitar and the flute.⁠[28]⁠

But we must allow, that the curiosity or ingenuity of the Egyptians, in what was commendable, does no ways excuse the scandalous and superstitious abuses they are fallen into with respect to animals. Many cities in Egypt have borrow’d their names from those monsters they paid adoration to, as Crocodilopolis and others. The Hippopotamus is worshipp’d at Pampremis, tho’ this city don’t bear its name. The most excusable among them seem to be those who worship the animals that are of use to mankind. The [29]⁠Heracleoti offer’d incense to the Icneumon, a sort of rat as big as a little dog, which destroy’d the crocodile in a very singular manner: This little animal, after having daub’d itself all over with a sort of thick slime, which when dry’d serv’d it as a coat of mail, jump’d into the jaws of the crocodile, and so kill’d it. The ancients say, this is the only animal that secures itself with defensive armour. All Egypt ador’d the bird Ibis, a sort of stork, that freed their cities from the little wing’d serpents, which the African wind was wont to bring them; but this bird was itself very troublesome, by reason of its voracity and filth. It is related, that Cambyses being upon the point of giving battle to Psammenitus the son of Amasis at Palusa, on the confines of Egypt, rang’d a row of these birds before his avant-guard, and that the Egyptians chose rather to submit without opposition, than to draw their arrows against them. The Greeks with reason reproach’d the Egyptians for the singularity of their religion. But they pretend to justify themselves with regard to their worship of crocodiles, and other such hideous animals; by alledging, that they defended their country, and render’d the access to it dangerous to the pirates of Arabia, and the scouts of Libya. They even retort the same reproach upon the Greeks,⁠[30] and say, that the Thessalonians worshipp’d a stork, and the Bœotians a weasel. It is indeed a common thing for men to deride with great haughtiness the superstition of others, when they are blind to their own folly, tho’ often of the same kind.

After having gone thro’ what regards experimental sciences, the next gallery was the first of those destin’d for the sciences of computation. The peculiar necessity incumbent upon the inhabitants of this country, of adjusting the bounds of their lands after an inundation of the waters of the Nile, had put them upon the study of geometry sooner than other nations: But they had carry’d their contemplations much farther than this necessity oblig’d them; And had attain’d to those sciences, of which the simple measuring of their lands, or geometry properly so call’d, was but a very small part. The canals and other bounds, which in course of time separated the estates of private persons, made them sufficiently known. But geometry became the knowledge of every kind of proportion represented by lines.

The first elements of the mathematicks are very ancient. It is related, that Mercury, the first king of Thebes, whom we have so often mention’d, being concern’d at the changes, which an universal deluge then recent had caus’d upon the surface of the earth, and for the want of all human science, which that terrible catastrophe had so totally effac’d, thought of an expedient that might prevent so great a loss, if the disaster should ever happen again. [31]⁠He caus’d subterranean and winding passages to be dug in the neighbourhood of Thebes, the remains of which are yet to be seen, and go by the name of the Syringes. These he fill’d with square and pyramidal columns, upon the surfaces of which were carv’d the principles of every science; but in hieroglyphical symbols, that if even the art of writing should be lost, they might be explain’d by conjecture; and that if any of the race of man should escape, they might at least have this aid, and not be reduc’d, as they had then just been, to labours that requir’d so great a length of time as a new invention of all things. It is added, that Mercury himself had enjoy’d the same advantage from some columns anterior to the deluge, which had been erected by the hero-kings or demi-gods, his predecessors.

In the mathematical gallery at Memphis were plac’d columns of the height of a cubit, but which had all the proportions of those columns of the Syringes, which contain’d the principles of this science. The proprieties of numbers were engraven on the first of them; forasmuch as their proportions being perceptible by operation alone, they serve as elements and a model for all mathematical proportions.⁠[32] Pythagoras, who, as the ancients say, receiv’d great instruction by Mercury’s columns, thence took his idea of numbers. He likewise carry’d it as far as any of the Greeks before our celebrated Diophantes; and he was the first amongst them who made use of them for the musical divisions of the monochord: But he afterwards made allegorical applications of them, which may have been of some moral use, but were of no advantage to arithmetick itself. Upon other columns were the elementary propositions of geometry, with their figures, under each of which was the name of him who first demonstrated them, and the date thereof, but not the demonstrations themselves. These monuments formed a very curious history of the steps and progress of human understanding. The sciences were pointed out, and the degree they had attain’d to in each age known; but there were other measures to be taken before they could be attain’d to. Thales had observ’d there, that an angle taken in the circumference of a circle, and carry’d to the two extremities of the diameter, was always rectangular: And it was from the demonstration he found of it after his return to Greece, that he gather’d all the other proprieties of the circle, and all the trigonometrical resolutions, or those which give the measure of inaccessible distances. There it was that Pythagoras found out the famous proposition upon the hypothenuse of the rectangular triangle, compar’d to the two other sides.⁠[33] And it was not without reason he sacrific’d a hecatomb in thanks to the gods for having at last discover’d it; since this proposition, and that which establishes the analogy of the sides of such triangles, are the two axles upon which the whole science of geometry turns.

Next to the elementary propositions, which respect only figures terminated by direct or circular lines, were all those parts of geometry, which require no other assistance. Upon this basis alone were rais’d all the mathematicks employ’d for the use of man, the convenience of cities, and the ornament of all Egypt; in a word, all practical geometry. The principles of this geometry carved upon columns, tho’ they were not all copy’d from those of Mercury, and the date of the greater part shew’d that the invention was more modern, took up one side of this spacious gallery. The other was adorn’d with discoveries made in compound geometry, or that part which treats of curvilineal figures. These discoveries being owing to the priests alone, after they had form’d a peculiar society in Egypt, were not upon columns, but carv’d with proper figures upon tables of white marble, higher and larger than the columns. Establish’d theorems, and problems resolv’d,⁠[34] were only express’d, as those in simple geometry, without any demonstration.

But of all the curiosities in these galleries, nothing came up to the beauty of the astronomical instruments. The Chaldeans have been accounted the inventors of this science: But they themselves were but a colony of the Egyptians, led into Babylon by Belus, who, according to Diodorus, was born in Egypt. The very climate of this country favour’d their astronomical observations, not only on account of a continual serene sky, but because, being near the equator, it discovers the greatest part of the firmament, whose revolutions over it are almost direct. It was by this advantage of situation, that the shepherds, who spent their nights in the open fields, were the first astronomers: they could not but remark the different elevations of the stars in different hours of the night, the successive rise of those which absented themselves from the rays of the sun, during the course of the year, and the particular course of the planets, generally opposite to the diurnal motion of the whole firmament. But no sooner did the more curious and penetrating part of mankind begin to cultivate these objects, than they converted them into the most noble of all human sciences, and the only one which can render a prophet infallible. The situation of Egypt made it so famous for astronomy, that, since the foundation of Alexandria, all the great astronomers of Greece have been either born, or have acquir’d their knowledge and fame in that city. Such as, Timocharis, Denis the astronomer, Eratosthenes, the famous Hipparchus, Possidonius, Sosigenes; and, to conclude, Ptolomy, the last and the greatest of them all. The Egyptians were the first who made spheres according to the two different systems of the universe; upon a supposition, either that all the heavenly bodies have their revolution about the earth, or that the earth takes its circuit round the sun as a planet. Tho’ the Greeks now follow the visible and apparent system of the diurnal revolution of the sun about us, a system to which our Ptolomy has added great lustre; we can’t be ignorant that our antient philosophers, such as Thales and Pythagoras, believed all the planets, and the earth itself, had their motions round the sun. And as both of them learnt the sciences in Egypt, it is a certain proof, independant of my memoirs, that this last system took its rise there. The motion of the earth has been even admitted by Greeks of a pretty modern date; and Philolaus has lent his name to the Philolaick astronomy, which has this hypothesis for its basis. These two systems are equally satisfactory as to the periodical revolutions of the stars. But if the Ptolomean system be in some manner better adapted to the senses, and may serve for astronomers who only observe the celestial appearances; that of Philolaus, being infinitely plainer in itself, of consequence comes nearer nature, and is more agreeable to philosophy. I shall say nothing here of the Egyptian astrology, because it was only taught to initiates, in the inmost recesses of their temples. But as a search after the philosopher’s stone has been the parent of chymistry, so we may say that the vain science of astrology, with which all the nations of the world are infatuated, has produc’d excellent discoveries in astronomy. A general knowledge of this great art was common to all the priests in Egypt; but we must allow that those of Thebes surpassed in this article⁠[35] all their brethren. I shall therefore defer some other observations on this science, till I shall have occasion in another place to speak of this famous metropolis of the upper Egypt.

But what attracted the attention of a greater number of people in the palace of Memphis, were the models of all the machines which had been made use of to level the soil in Egypt, to water every part of it, to raise those waters to considerable heights, and to keep them within bounds. It was after a view of these wonderful machines, of which some were yet in being in the days of Archimedes, that this famous prince of Syracusa invented at Alexandria the hydraulick screw or engine which bears his⁠[36] name. In this gallery was likewise shewn the models of those multiplied powers, by the means of which they had been able to hoist out of their quarries, to transport, and to raise to the very clouds, stones of so prodigious a size, as perpetuate the labours of Egypt. To conclude, whatever invention had furnish’d for the service of war, by land or sea, was there carefully treasur’d up. Astronomy, added to the active genius of the Egyptians, had made them very expert in navigation; and the models of vessels of every form, and of instruments proper to build and work them, were not the least among the curiosities we have been describing.

This extraordinary collection was indeed but a mute object, or spoke only by means of the inscriptions which were affix’d to each article. We must likewise allow that foreigners had hardly any other instructions to expect, but what they could draw from these kinds of objects, which were in some of the cities of Egypt, before Cambyses, the son of Cyrus, the most savage and inconsiderate of all conquerors, had laid them waste. Thales and Pythagoras were the last of the Greek philosophers, who had the advantage of seeing them before their destruction. They both resided in Egypt a great number of years; and had contracted an intimate friendship with some of the Egyptian priests: They were both initiated, and Pythagoras in particular⁠[37]⁠, desirous of being so, at Heliopolis, where the priests were accounted the most expert at divination, purchas’d it at the expence of being circumcised. Notwithstanding which, their travels and labours had been of little profit to them, if they had not, as great inventors themselves, drawn large consequences from the little which was communicated to them⁠[38]⁠. The priests thought themselves indeed oblig’d to be liberal of their instructions to foreign initiates, with regard to certain mysteries of their religion, but were very sparing in the secrets of their sciences. In favour of their own nation however, there were commonly attending, in other galleries of the palace of Memphis, the greatest masters of those sciences, of which the principles and instruments had been expos’d to view in those already describ’d. Renown’d Athens never produc’d so many schools, nor them more frequented; tho’ in these of Egypt none were admitted but natives⁠[39]⁠. Besides the hours set apart for regular lectures, the priests, who were the only teachers in these several academies, were ready every moment of the day to answer all questions that might be propos’d to them by any persons whomsoever. But their chymical preparations, anatomical dissections, and even astronomical observations, were always in private; that they might in some measure conceal, even from the Egyptians themselves, the means by which they attain’d to their knowledge.

Tho’ the Egyptians gave preference, among the labours of the mind, to natural philosophy, as more directly conducive to the advantage of the publick; they were not, however, negligent in those which are the objects of erudition. Their consultations on this head were held in a vast library, which they increas’d daily. Upon the gate of this library was written in letters of gold, FOOD FOR THE MIND. An inscription of greater extent than that of the library of Thebes, plac’d there by Ismandes the founder: viz. PHYSICK FOR THE MIND⁠[40]⁠. It is not in the power of a king to collect the curiosities of nature and art, which one learned man may have describ’d and explain’d in his writings; but no private person can make so ample a collection of books as a king may. The library of 700,000 volumes collected under the care of Ptolomeus Philadelphus, and burnt against the will of the conqueror, when Julius Cæsar enter’d Alexandria, was a wonder of Egypt, greater than any of those which now go by the name. At Memphis, and in other cities, the priests kept in their own possession all the books, which contain’d the mysteries of their religion, and even the histories of the heroick times, or those which preceded Menes. They communicated them only to initiates, to whom they expounded them in private. Having establish’d it as a maxim, to deprive the laity of all means of becoming arbiters in points of religion; the people, and especially the women, knew no more of it than what the priests taught them by word of mouth. But all histories from the time of Menes, and even those of foreign countries, which they had collected with as much assiduity as the curiosities of nature, were preserved in the royal libraries, and shewn to all Egyptians who desir’d it.

⁠[41]⁠The priests in Egypt were the only judges in point of civil right: But if they themselves had any matter of dispute with private persons, and by so much the more if with the king, it was decided by the assembly of initiates: So that the priests and initiates might have kept the knowledge of the law wholly within themselves. However, as they thought it reasonable that every one who was cast should judge of the equity of their judgments; and besides, it was requisite for private persons to know the laws they were to live up to; the priests taught this science publickly in a hall of the palace: and that was the only school into which strangers were admitted. The Egyptians had right to boast that Solon and Lycurgus borrow’d from them the best of those laws which they establish’d, one of them in Athens, and the other in Sparta. [42]⁠Among these was one very remarkable, which oblig’d all the commoners of Egypt to declare to the judges every year what profession they propos’d to follow for a livelihood, and they were forbidden, at least for that time, following any other upon pain of death. This made them assiduous every one in his way. And that activity yet so visible in our city of Alexandria, made the emperor Adrian say, [43]⁠there was not a man in that great city who was not distinguished by some or other profession or trade. Even the blind, added he, have their work. None are exempt, no not the gouty, if they have either hands or feet free from the distemper. This is but one instance, among an infinite number of excellent laws, which from the Egyptians were propagated among the wisest nations, and of which some are easily distinguish’d in the Roman laws⁠[44]⁠.

The kings of Egypt had always been promoters of these academies, being convinc’d, that a love of the sciences, and the tranquility they requir’d, were alone sufficient to suppress all thoughts of revolt and sedition. The sciences not only employ and adorn the mind, but endue it with a certain solidity and uprightness, which generally prevent men not only from being vain, but from being wicked. This truth had been experienc’d by many kings, in the great ministers, magistrates, and even great commanders, which these schools had furnish’d: For the exercises of the body were here as little neglected as those of the mind. I don’t mean only such as wrestling, swimming, running, riding, and walking a single rope, which latter they suppos’d render’d the eyes, and footsteps sure; all exercises of great use in the art of war, whether in battles or at sieges; but every article belonging to the military art which requires study and science. Here young noblemen, emulating one another, were employed in taking the distances of inaccessible places, and delineating every species of fortification. They diligently followed the most famous architects in the execution of their immense undertakings, to learn of them the proportions which the foundations of walls bear to their height; the power of those vaults which tho’ solid were light; the different sorts of timber, and the degrees of force it attain’d from different positions.

Even queens, and the ladies that attended them, were endued with this noble emulation. The set races, and other exercises of these young noblemen, on their festivals, and days of publick rejoicings, furnish’d them with very agreeable entertainments, and they took a singular pleasure in discoursing in the circles which were form’d about them at court towards evening, thereby to be instructed, and render’d worthy of that society they were necessarily to be engag’d in with the most learned men: For, according to a custom as antient in Egypt as monarchy itself, the priests, as austere as they were in their sacerdotal functions, frequented the assemblies at court. The first design of this custom was to keep up a spirit of religion in their kings, and a decorum in courts, where, contrary to the custom of other nations, the women were allowed freedom of conversation with the men. The priests themselves had this advantage by it, that in return for their sciences they learned politeness from the courtiers: and both together made up that mixture, which perhaps alone deserves the name of good company; that is, of persons of distinction join’d with men of wit and learning. Rules for conversation were needless among persons whose minds were so form’d: and as no one presum’d to speak beyond the measure of his genius and knowledge, every person at court, tho’ in different degrees of learning, render’d himself almost equally valued. It was even a maxim with the Egyptians, that a refin’d wit was not the greatest qualification a man could have, not only with respect to the affairs of state and war, which of course were preferably put into the hands of men of deep knowledge and experience; but even with regard to the common intercourses of life, and the agreeableness of conversation: so that profess’d wits were no otherwise esteem’d than as they render’d themselves agreeable by their affability, modesty, and other qualities common to men of honour. In short, in a nation where every subject, animated by a reciprocal emulation, discharg’d his function or employ equally well, that real esteem they had one for the other added a harmony to society, now hardly any where known.

This solidity of mind, which appear’d in the employments, and even conversations of the Egyptians, extended to matters of mere entertainment. They were admirers of elegant writing in prose and verse: but having in general a more favourable opinion of men of a common genius who render’d themselves useful by their knowledge, than of those fine wits, who only supply’d the publick with vain amusements, they reconcil’d both by this unquestionable maxim, that the great man in point of learning was he who cultivated a profuseness of wit with as large a degree of knowledge. In consequence of this maxim, universally received, there appear’d very few authors who had not treasur’d up a stock of reading sufficient to be the guide and support of their own reflections. Hence it was that the readers found a great deal of instruction even in those books, which seem’d to be written only for pleasure and diversion. And thus those who presided over learning prevented, as well in authors as readers, that taste for trifles which is the stumbling-block of polite nations, and soon becomes a greater hinderance to noble undertakings, than simplicity and impoliteness. As for poets, they were very severe in examining their notions of virtue and vice; and undeceiv’d them in the opinion they almost all fell into, that morality was an innate knowledge, which required no study to attain to. But poetry was absolutely forbid to persons convicted of dissolute and irregular morals. By this they secured themselves from a publick evil, always found among the Greeks; which was, that whenever authors became scandalous in their persons, they were the first who took upon them to reform mankind by satire, almost always levell’d at persons of such merit, whom a just reputation plac’d above them. The antient Lacedemonians, in imitation of the Egyptians, forbad every vicious man even to mention a moral maxim. And in effect what are poets, who, as we have frequent instances among the Greeks, undertaking to represent the characters of virtuous men in their poems, but who having themselves no idea or knowledge of virtue, never set it in a just light: or, which is yet more pernicious, give an advantageous turn to vice conceal’d under the larve of false heroism?

In the palace of Memphis were two peculiar galleries, which not only serv’d as schools for sculptors and painters, but for the learned were the richest monument they could desire for the history of these two arts. At the entrance into one of these galleries were on the right and on the left columns of wood or stone, roughly hewn, about the height and thickness of a man. The name of the god, or hero, which was design’d to be represented, was written upon some of them; and that was all the sculpture of the first times. Advancing farther, human form began to unfold itself more and more: but the two legs were as yet join’d together, and the two arms glued to the body at their full length. By degrees the members were loosen’d from the trunk, and plac’d in the postures of action. From thence they came to elegant attitudes, and soon to miracles of art. For as soon as man has found out the good in any art whatsoever, he rises with a prodigious rapidity to the excellent. The Grecian sculpture pass’d thro’ the same degrees; and Plutarch relates, that the Spartiates call’d all those figures they had of the Dioscuri, or the two brothers Castor and Pollux, Docanes. They were two beams⁠[45] plac’d upright, and join’d together at top by a cross piece of timber. Dædalus was the first who brought out of Egypt into Greece the art of putting the arms of statues in an acting, and the legs in a walking posture. The Greeks were so surpriz’d at this new attitude, that they chain’d down their statues made in this manner, for fear they should run away; and Plato observes, that statues which were fasten’d to pedestals yielded a greater price than others; as slaves who were not addicted to elopement. There is even something more in it: for tho’, on the testimony of the Greeks, who had seen the statues of Dædalus, they were, with respect to the sculpture, not brought to that pitch of perfection, to which Phidias and Praxiteles brought theirs; he had given them, by means of some inward springs, a real motion. Aristotle himself, quoting Philip the comick writer, assures us, that Dædalus had carv’d a statue of Venus in wood, which mov’d by means of quicksilver he had pour’d into the inside of it. Be it as it will with regard to the truth or circumstances of this fact; these allegations will suffice to make us take the description Homer gives us of the moving figures in Achilles’s buckler in a literal sense, notwithstanding those interpreters who will reduce the description of it to that of a common picture or basso-relievo, the figures of which are represented as moving, tho’ they are in reality motionless. And it is easy to discover, that Homer, in his description of this buckler, had in view this art of Dædalus, more famous in his days than in ours. But nothing is of greater honour to the Egyptian sculpture, than that piece of history with which the first book of Diodorus Siculus concludes. The most famous sculptors of Greece, says this author, were train’d up in the schools of Egypt. Such are Telecles and Theodorus, the sons of Roecus, who made the statue of Apollo Pythius, now at Samos; in such manner that Telecles having made one half of it at Samos, while his brother Theodorus made the other half at Ephesus, the two pieces fitted so exactly, that the whole figure seem’d to be by one hand. This peculiar art, which is but little known, continues he, to the Grecian sculptors, is very much cultivated by the Egyptians: for these don’t judge of a figure, as the Greeks, barely by the eye; but measuring all the parts one by the other, they carve the stones which are to form a statue separately, and with the utmost accuracy. For this end they divided a human body into 21 parts and ¼. So when the workmen had once agreed among themselves upon the height of the figure, every one made that part which fell to his share, and they join’d in such manner as was astonishing to those who were not acquainted with this art. But the two pieces of Apollo of Samos join according to the height of the body; and tho’ the arms are stretch’d out, as in action, and the legs are in the posture of a man walking, it is every where correspondent, and the whole figure is in the most exact equilibrity. In short, this piece of workmanship, which is finish’d according to the Egyptian method, is very little inferior to the most accomplish’d pieces of Egypt itself.

The other gallery was appropriated to painting. The first that appear’d in view were boards whited over, upon which the objects, generally describ’d in black, were so ill drawn, that the painter thought himself oblig’d to write on the side of each, This is a man; This is a horse; This is a tree. Advancing farther, were draughts which seem’d to have been mark’d out round the shadow of an object set in the sun. In the following pictures the perfection of draught and variety of colours increas’d visibly. The Egyptians, as the Greeks, had for a long time only four: and we know that Zeuxis, Polygnotus, and Timanthes made use of no more. Echion, Nicomachus, Protogenes, and finally Apelles, were those, who, with their different compound colours, found out all the shadowings of nature. There are yet to be seen, in a grotto not far from Thebes, paintings which are remaining from the times of the antient kings of that dynasty, the colours of which are as lively as if but just laid on⁠[46]⁠. But the more modern Egyptians did not fall into the fault with which Denis of Halicarnassus reproaches the modern Greek painters; that they endeavour’d to cover the neglect of design by the variety and liveliness of their colours. The Egyptians compar’d those who preferr’d colours to design in painting, to those who in eloquence and poetry preferr’d bright thoughts to those which are just. Cicero, the master and pattern of latin eloquence, applying his reflection to oratory, says, That we soon grow weary of those pictures which at first sight attract us by force of colours; whereas we are constant in our admiration of those that excel in the beauty of design, which is the true character of antiquity⁠[47]⁠.

To conclude; the musick-gallery, where, on certain days, were held concerts of voices and instruments, was likewise a treasure for the antiquities of this art. Here ’twas found that the shalm, the shepherd’s flute, and other wind instruments, were the first invented; and here was even shewn the flute of several pipes of unequal lengths, that was in use before Osiris invented the single flute, which express’d all the tones of the former. This hero had those hymns which he sung in honour to the gods accompany’d by it; and the verses, according to Plutarch, contain’d those precepts which he gave to the people, whom he had got together, and was desirous to civilize. The same Osiris in time invented the trumpet and kettle-drums, to animate the soldiers he made use of in his conquests. Mercury afterwards invented the harp; which leaves the musician the liberty of adding his voice and words to the sound of his instrument. In some ancient monuments this god is describ’d with a harp of seven strings; the two extremes of which, as they pretended, being struck together, from’d the diapazon or octave, even before the last string but one, which renders it compleat, was introduc’d into the diatonick system⁠[48]⁠. Next to the harps, they shew’d in this gallery at Memphis, the first tables, or the first bodies of instruments, that are of so much service to strengthen the sounds, which are too weak in a single circumference of solid wood, as that which supports the strings of the harp. They came at last to the instruments with necks, or which were touch’d at a distance; in which the fingers forming the sounds, find, upon a lesser number of strings, a greater number of tetra-chords, and even of octaves, can pass indifferently thro’ all the moods, and have full scope to perform whatever the imagination of the boldest composer can produce. Diodorus was but ill inform’d of the fact, when he said, the Egyptians did not cultivate musick. On the contrary, it was of them Pythagoras got such a taste of it, as to admit of harmony in the skies, and apply the proportions of it to the general constitution of the universe. The Egyptians encourag’d their young men and maidens to learn and perform every species of musick, to render them more polite and more agreeable: And, in imitation of them it was, that the Greeks plac’d musick in the number of those things necessary to the education of youth.

We see by this faint sketch, that however valuable private education may be, it never can have the advantages of this publick education of the Egyptians: But what seems to be the most valuable in it, is, that youth is not abandon’d, as in our modern educations, as soon as they come out of their infancy; that is, at a time when their judgments being better form’d, are susceptible of knowledge, either more abstruse in itself, or of more service to the publick, and when they have most need of help to suppress the first flights of youth: So we see that this Stage, which is the most propitious to the female sex, because they are more carefully guarded than in any other, is the most extravagant in the male, who are abandon’d to their own passions, not easily govern’d, if they be not endow’d with excellent natural talents. Levity of mind, an aversion to duty, and a neglect of time, now so fashionable among the Greek and Roman youths, would have been a blemish upon their honour in Egypt, even in the eyes of the ladies, who had any concern for them; and, as the only mark of a court truly polite, there were no advances to their favour but by merit and wisdom. But above all I must not forget to observe, that the exercises, and even the labours of the Egyptian youth secured them from that fatal weariness of mind, that general distaste which accompanies ours even in the very height of their debauchery.

There were, indeed, at that time, some young men more sollicitous for present pleasure than future merit, who thought these studies and conversations a burden: And ladies, who qualify’d only to discourse of their constitutions, taste and dress, were uneasy that they could not carry these their only objects of entertainment into the palace, and make them general. And by such Daluca was soon seconded in her resolution of bringing into evil repute these learned schools, the fountains of that merit she had most to fear, and to break off those instructive conferences of all kinds, in which the rules of a most refin’d moral were frequently the subject. The method she pitch’d on, as most expedient for her design, was, to give the privilege of keeping assemblies, and the sole empire of conversation, to such ladies of the court as she had observ’d the most vain, and who had the faculty of talking loud and long upon nothing, when they found it was countenanc’d. The queen, under pretext of being extreamly taken up with the affairs of state, appear’d very seldom in these assemblies herself, and prevented the king from going to them, by amusing him as much as possible with other private diversions: But having before confer’d the chief offices at court upon ladies of the character I have just describ’d, she deputed them to perform the honours of the palace in her room, and to preside in her name at the conversation of those circles which were form’d in her absence. These ladies, like the queen, had all pass’d their meridian, and having made no provision to supply the loss of exterior beauties, by the more valuable qualities of the mind, were but just before bewailing their abandon’d state: But being now rais’d by an excess of favours, which the queen seem’d to heap upon them, were extreamly subservient to her design, without so much as knowing it. They were always ready to interrupt any discourse that might but favour of learning or ingenuity; but they were not often put to the trouble: for their own perpetual talk was so vain, and so little approv’d, that no man of sense could find room, or thought it worth while, to put in a word. It was observ’d, that they were continually whispering to one another in these assemblies, and ridiculing certain persons, who in the preceding administration had been greatly respected, tho’ in the present they were not thought necessary. By these odious freedoms they drew upon themselves a contempt, which waited only for an opportunity of displaying itself, and which already very sensibly lessen’d the regard otherwise had to them and the whole sex. In the mean time, all persons of good sense and merit by degrees absented from these assemblies, where they perceiv’d their company was a burden: And thus the court, which was wont to be the center of good taste in all manner of subjects, and the model of purity for the Egyptian tongue, was become the abode of ignorance, or of indifferency to every thing that was the object of good sense and reason. The language itself being corrupted with improper terms, and a neglected pronunciation, became a jargon of the fancy; which being without rule, was ty’d down to none. The writings of those who formerly frequented the court were known by a just and natural elegancy, in a great measure owing to their intercourse with ladies of the most polite parts, in whom it eminently abounded: But the modern wits, who succeeded them, forgetting that language must always have the sanction of the publick, introduc’d, of their own private authority, an infinite number of fantastick terms and expressions, which so far from being adopted by custom, were carefully avoided by all correct authors.

On the other hand, the young nobility, seeing that probity and good breeding was as little required in the men, as prudence and behaviour in the women, and that every thing depended on favour, abandon’d all those exercises of mind and body which they had till then pursued, that they might devote themselves to these new creatures of the queen. The grand art was to persuade them, by force of flattery, to believe they were possess’d of those charms which they themselves had given over for lost; and they began to hope, that Daluca having brought their age into fashion, youth would be no more regarded. The beauties of the court of Memphis had always had their admirers; accomplish’d merit on both sides was generally the origin of the passions they excited. A desire only of gaining the esteem of a charming person, produc’d such endeavours after virtue and valour, as was admir’d by the publick, without knowing their first cause: But as for the modern intrigues⁠[49]⁠, they were owing to a mutual conformity of bad taste and bad choice; their beginning was debauchery, and a communication of vices between the pretended lovers were the fruits of them. It was an observation in former times, that those who had been singled out, and train’d up by certain ladies of the court, became the most accomplish’d men: But for these, the beauties of the mind, or a total want of them, were qualities they had no discernment of, and were equally indifferent to; and they entertain’d no hopes of making any advantage by persons of a too distinguish’d probity. In times past, the most discerning had no other way of discovering a passion between two persons, but by a greater circumspection in the one, and a more irreproachable behaviour in the other. But now the new favourite of each of these ladies was immediately known to every one; and they were sooner put out of countenance, when complimented upon that account, than their mistresses themselves.

The queen, who at a distance saw this progress, began already to gather the fruits of her endeavours, by the contempt, hatred and jealousy which was fomented among the courtiers. Both men and women, as she had foreseen, were totally lost to all good manners, by a dissipation and levity of mind. There was not one among them who had not taken a steady resolution to sacrifice virtue, honour and duty to the least smile of fortune; and nothing less than adversity, or the most terrible events, were capable of awaking them from this infatuation: Even the ministers of state, who till then had every moment of their time so taken up, either in their different employs, or in recreating themselves in their families, that they never stir’d out of their closets, but to council, or to give audience to the publick, thought themselves now under an obligation of making their court to these ladies in authority; and all the assiduity they formerly employ’d in the affairs of state, was now necessary to keep them in their places: To continue in their favour, it was not enough to comply with their fantastick humours, to administer to their ruinous pleasures, to provide immense entertainments for them; they insisted, that all their recommendations should take place, tho’ they were ever in favour of some unjust cause, or unworthy object; and that their counsels, tho’ most pernicious to their prince, should be approv’d, in consideration of a small gain to them. Thus, tho’ the deceas’d queen had left all things in so excellent an order, that they might have subsisted, and even held out against mal-administration for a long time, yet the state was rushing on very fast towards its ruin. Peace, which, especially in dominions of so small extent as those of Egypt, is not to be preserv’d but by secret springs of the cabinet, and by a regard shewn, at least in appearance, to neighbouring princes, soon was shaken by a neglect of cultivating their friendship, by the little satisfaction given to their ambassadors, and by the infringement of several laws, which concern’d the tranquillity of all Egypt, and its security against enemies from abroad. And thus Daluca, with a view only of prejudicing Sethos, expos’d the welfare of the kingdom and her own safety to all the ill consequences of so pernicious a conduct.

But while this unworthy queen was thus fomenting disorders, the wise Amedes was assiduous in the education of the young prince, whose fate had destin’d him to be first the victim, and afterwards the repairer of them. He did not, in express terms, discover to him the disgrace he perceiv’d he was already fall’n into; a condition not easy to be conceiv’d by a child of eight or nine years of age, especially when disguis’d under those professions of kindness and flattering caresses which Daluca hitherto continued to shew to Sethos. But the chief aim of Amedes was to inspire him with the principles of every virtue, which he might stand in need of to support him in the most adverse fortune. He put him in mind of his illustrious birth, to make him sensible not of the respect due to him from others, but of what he owed to himself. He gave him lively ideas, not of a prince surrounded by his obsequious subjects and slavish courtiers, but of a prince dethron’d by usurpers, and residing among foreigners, where he would have no other grandeur but that of his own mind, and his personal courage. The questions he propos’d to him, either to discover his sentiments, or to exercise his talents, were generally upon perilous and intricate circumstances, which a prince could not extricate himself from without the greatest courage, nor sustain without the highest pitch of probity. He did not, however, at any time, wholly bereave him of the hopes of peaceably enjoying the kingdom to which he was the lawful heir: but he instructed him, that the principles of those morals fitting to be practis’d in danger or adversity, or rather, that danger and adversity themselves naturally lead a prince to a regular and advantageous enjoyment of peace and happiness. With regard to the religion of his ancestors, Amedes instructed him therein, in a concise, plain and consistent manner with regard to facts, but laid great stress upon the examples and moral precepts he drew from them.

It is common to give princes only general ideas of the sciences; and, indeed, it is sufficient, if they be but acquainted with as much as will make them friends and protectors of them. But Amedes was desirous, that whatever might be his fate, his pupil should attain to all the merit of a private person. He also concluded, that Sethos being yet too young to comprehend the great maxims of government, politicks and war, could not better employ the first years of his tuition, than by initiating him early into all the Egyptian sciences. Youth has this peculiar advantage, that men never arrive to perfection in any arts or sciences, if they don’t overcome the main difficulties of them while they are young: And to give a disadvantageous instance as to my own part alone, I must confess I have, in different stages of my life, endeavour’d to acquire those sciences which are esteem’d among the Greeks, but have never been able to attain to more than reading and writing in such a manner as I am satisfy’d with, they being the only arts that became easy to me in the days of my youth. However, as human knowledge is of so vast an extent, that not youth alone, but life itself is hardly sufficient to attain it; this great master inform’d his pupil, that he should make him acquainted only with the first rudiments of the sciences; and that those who rest satisfy’d with that part they have gone thro’ in this first stage of life, ought modestly to confess their ignorance.

Amedes perceiv’d that this young prince gave every day new signs of an admirable genius. He had form’d no decisive judgment upon that agreeableness, that vivacity and wit which he frequently observ’d in him during his mother’s life, when he was surrounded with the flattering smiles of fortune: such indications are not always to be depended upon, because those repartees which we think so witty in children, are often but an effect of the liberty allow’d them, and generally bestow’d upon trivial occasions; and consequently no conclusion can be drawn from thence applicable to that period of time in which they are to employ their thoughts upon solid and serious subjects. But in natural philosophy, our master could hardly keep pace with the docility of his scholar; and in history he had much ado to satisfy his unbounded curiosity: So for his own ease, and the more readily to accustom young Sethos to be his own instructor, he exercis’d him in the former, by putting him upon experiments and the solution of difficulties; and in the latter, by making him read the most celebrated authors from the beginning to the end; and afterwards obliging him to give coherent abridgments of every history. He made him acquainted in the first, with the progress of human understanding, and the advancement of the sciences from one century to another; and in the second, with the great men and the best writers of all the ages past.

He likewise carry’d him every day, at certain hours, into the schools we have mention’d above, which were not now so crowded as in former times; but then they were sure of meeting there the flower of the youth of Memphis, and all those who had not been yet corrupted by the present taste of the court. Our own application must render us masters of the sciences; but the knowledge of applying them rightly is only to be acquir’d by conversing with men of understanding and merit. Besides, Amedes, without affecting at an improper time to oppose the queen’s measures, was desirous of making Sethos known to the youth of the kingdom, who were growing up with him. The history of the infancy of Sesostris was yet recent in his memory. This prince was no sooner born, than his father Amenophis caus’d all the infants of his kingdom, who were born on the same day with his son, to be brought before him; he provided them with nurses, appointed tutors for them, and gave them all the same education; being persuaded, that children who had been brought up in a familiarity with their prince from their most tender years, would the more firmly adhere to him in the course of his life, and would serve him best in his wars. Amedes was moreover desirous that Sethos should converse in the publick assemblies with those foreigners, whom the fame of Egypt drew thither from all the parts of the world, where knowledge and good manners were cultivated. Men of attention gather new knowledge in the conversation even of such as have less than themselves; and the Egyptians, at the same time they communicated their instructions to others, became more learned themselves. Besides, as the greater number of those who came into Egypt, were led thither, either to obtain the initiation, or to perfect themselves in the sciences, and sometimes for both, they were generally the greatest men of every nation. These strangers, it is natural to conceive, apply’d themselves with a great deal of care to the learning of the Egyptian tongue: And the most curious among the Egyptians studied those of other nations. The priests divided all the languages of the known world among themselves, that they might be able to give satisfaction to all those who apply’d to them for advice from every quarter. To this end they sent the most expert among them, disguised like merchants, into the most distant states. The laity, who were destined to the war, or to trade, generally confin’d themselves to the Phenician, the Greek, and the Punick tongues. The first gave them access at the chief courts of Asia, the second to those of Europe, and the third in Africa: But the Egyptian tongue was in some degree the common source of these three; for the Phenicians, Greeks and Carthaginians were Egyptian colonies. A knowledge of the Egyptian tongue was therefore in a great measure a key to the others. Amedes, however, let Sethos learn the first rudiments of the latter, but he left him to acquire a perfection in them by practice, and the frequent conversation he procur’d him with such strangers, as appear’d to him the most knowing.

The education of Sethos was not confin’d to the improvement of his mind; Amedes put him also upon exercises of the body: He even took advantage of the neglect which he saw this young prince suffer’d from a father, who was govern’d by a second wife, to make him submit to those, which he render’d more laborious or more perilous in proportion as he advanc’d in years. This is a sort of trial which the best of parents are but too backward in putting their children to; and to which Amedes himself had, perhaps, not expos’d an undoubted heir to the crown: But he look’d upon his pupil as one, who, like a private person, was to make his own fortune.

He made him walk on foot to all the places near Memphis, with a double view; first to inure him to hardship, and then to make him take notice of every thing that was remarkable in his own country, which is often more neglected than foreign curiosities: Above all, he carry’d him more than once to the Pyramids. In his time there were a hundred, but of very different sizes, all together in one place, at about four miles distant from Memphis, towards Libya. In all Egypt there were none but at this place, and about Thebes: the kings of which two cities, in imitation of one another, had been curious in giving this form to their tombs, or of leaving these monuments of their own grandeur and power. Amedes was willing to exhaust this subject, that his pupil might draw advantages from it of several kinds. Sethos had often heard talk of these enormous piles; and Amedes expected they would at first sight make the same impression upon this young prince, as they do upon travellers who come to see this wonder of the world, from the remotest parts of it: that is, they always find them less than they expected. Amedes did not neglect this opportunity of making Sethos observe, that the eye of man is never absolutely contented with the bigness of things artificial, unless they be carry’d to a distance as far as the sight can reach: but it is not so with respect to things which are determin’d by nature; as animals or trees, which we don’t love to see represented beyond their usual proportion: Hence it is, said he, that this bust of a sphinx or woman fix’d on the ground among the pyramids, which is forty feet high, seems of a monstrous bulk to you; whereas the great pyramid which takes up more than a furlong every way, appears too little in your eye. Another reason for this is, because its height not being quite equal to the length of one side of its basis, it must of course look squat and low. So, added he, with regard to buildings, we can never justify ourselves, if the proportion of their dimensions be not graceful, and according to the rules of art. Notwithstanding all which, continued he, observe the pyramids more nearly, they are not less wonderful, and you’ll soon see just cause to admire them. Make a trial yourself, in the first place, by the surest methods you have been taught in the academies of Memphis, to take the four cardinal points; see how exactly the four sides answer with the winds⁠[50]⁠. And besides, as large as the most beautiful temples of Memphis may seem to you, there is not one of them whose dimensions come near to those of the great pyramid; tho’ the form of our temples has something more agreeable and engaging.

⁠[51]⁠In reality, the basis of the first and largest pyramid, the surface of which is to this day entire, is in every square 704 feet; and [52]⁠its perpendicular height 630. The whole pyramid is compos’d of courses or lays of bricks, which grow narrower in proportion as they ascend to the top, where there is a platform of twelve feet square. The borders of these courses, which gradually decrease towards the top, serve as steps to ascend to it. Of all those who used to accompany Sethos and Amedes to see the pyramids, only some few of the most venturesome attempted to go up to this platform; but none durst come down again otherwise than backwards, as well to have the assistance of their hands, as for fear the height and vast extent of the prospect might make them giddy. Sethos, who before had gone thro’ many hazardous exercises, could not comprehend why Amedes should not indulge him in this, of which he was in no wise fearful. Amedes at last told him, that the concern he had for his life and honour, wou’d not suffer him to expose him to this trial, till he was able to descend the pyramid with his face toward the plain. It is not becoming, continu’d he, a prince, as you are, to shew the least sign of fear upon any account whatsoever. Amedes had hardly done speaking, when the prince, running to the pyramid, and placing his hands upon the lowermost step, which is four feet high, he ascended from one to another with wonderful agility and ease, till he came to those of but one foot high, which he walk’d up like common stairs, and was soon at top of the platform. As soon as he had recover’d breath, he turn’d toward the spectators, who were in great numbers at the foot of the pyramid, and came down with as little concern as if it had been a cover’d stair-case of equal and easy steps. His example render’d the enterprize more common; and seven or eight young lords, who from that time devoted themselves more particularly to his service, always attended him, as much as possible, as well in his exercises as his expeditions. It had likewise been an error establish’d either by the timorousness which was apt to seize people at top of the pyramid, or by an idea conceiv’d from the vast extent of the basis, that it was impossible to shoot an arrow from the top to fall beyond the lowermost step at bottom. This error prevails yet among us; and all travellers, who are too apt to enlarge upon things, mention the impossibility of it. The prince, even before he made the trial, was sensible of this error: Being well assur’d of the length of the four equal sides of the basis, he boldly engag’d to shoot an arrow from the middle of the platform, which should fall not only beyond one of the faces, but even beyond one of the angles of the pyramid, being directed in a diagonal line; which, according to the exact calculation he had made of it, could not be 500 feet, and hardly above half the distance an arrow will fly when discharg’d by an able archer.

We have hitherto only spoken of the surface of the pyramid; but Sethos was continually urging Amedes to let him see the inside of it. If the king who erected it had been interr’d in it, the prophane, such as Sethos yet was, would not have been permitted to enter: but it being an empty tomb, every one who had the patience and resolution, was allow’d to go in. As there were several deep and dark passages, Amedes was persuaded, that this trial would be an excellent remedy against those panick fears, which are apt to seize many people in the dark, and against the apprehension of bugbears, with which common reports then fill’d all uninhabited places, as it does now: But this view was nothing to a far greater design which he had conceiv’d upon this occasion, and which was to be the crown of Sethos’s education.

Amedes, therefore, returning one evening with him alone, and directing his discourse to him, said, My prince, to view the inside of the pyramid in such a manner as will be necessary for you, is an enterprize very different from what you think it to be: The secret passages of it lead those men, who are favour’d by the gods, to a point I dare not so much as name; for which the gods must create a desire in you. The entrance into the pyramid is open to every body; but I pity those, who coming out by the same way they went in, have only satisfy’d a very imperfect curiosity, and seen no more than what they are allow’d to relate. A discourse so uncommon as this was to the young prince, fill’d him with an impatience, which made him resolve instantly to unriddle this mystery, by deceiving even his governor’s vigilance, if he refus’d to accompany him. Amedes, who read this resolution in his looks, did not give him time to answer, but continu’d; Sir, I will conduct you myself to this enterprize, which it is almost impossible to begin alone, tho’ it must be finish’d alone: But I must not expose you to the dangers that attend it, till opportunities, which may offer hereafter, have given me sufficient proofs of your valour, and especially of your prudence. I have reason to be satisfy’d with the marks you have already given me of both. The age you are now approaching to, will demand greater of you, and will soon furnish you with means of shewing them. Don’t give way then to your impatience, but place your confidence in me; and begin, by keeping, as a secret, that little I have now reveal’d to you, to accustom your self to greater. The young prince, who could not yet fix an idea to the sense of these words, told Amedes, that, without diving farther into the mystery in question, the first mark he would give of the prudence his tutor wish’d to see in him, should be to confide entirely in his conduct.

BOOK III.

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

The war with which the king of Memphis was threaten’d, particularly on the part of Thebes, fill’d Sethos with a secret joy; for he concluded, that war only would furnish him with means of making those experiments which Amedes expected from him. This wise governor, who perceiv’d it, told him one day, that tho’ in the enterprize he had mention’d to him, on occasion of the pyramid, there were no blows nor combating with armed enemies requir’d; he could not enough commend the good there was in the confus’d sentiment which had inclin’d him to war; but, added he, I should ill perform the function I have the honour of exercising in the service of a prince born to the throne, if I did not inform him, that a king, who loves his subjects, always looks upon war as a misfortune: and, in order to prevent it, uses all efforts that do not derogate either from his establish’d rights, or his due honour. From this maxim, deeply engraven in the heart of a king, results a principle of true bravery, the more ardent in the defence of his own property, as it is less inclin’d to invade that of others. Most princes, who upon every occasion are taking up arms, spend their days in a continual alternative of good or bad success, which makes their enemies fear them but little, and value them less: Whereas on the contrary, a prince who is stedfast in his just pretensions, and gives no subject of complaint to his neighbours, is respected: Remember therefore, my lord, never to make war from a fancy or inclination to it; but when you are compell’d to it, do it in such a manner as may take away that pleasure and inclination in your enemy. Sethos answer’d, that he was sensible of the importance of this advice to a prince actually upon the throne; but, continu’d he, the war I am inclin’d to, is a war in which I have no part, and in which all I have to do is, to fight for the king my father, without enquiring, as I take it I have no right to do, into the merits of the cause. You say true, my lord, reply’d Amedes; and a young prince ought even to set a great value upon every lawful occasion offer’d by which he can give proof of his valour; that whenever he comes to have the care of the tranquillity and happiness of a whole nation, he may avoid a war without being apprehensive of any reflections on that account to the prejudice of his person. However, that your wishes may not be continued for a war, in all appearance so fatal, as that which is kindled against the kingdom, I have laid hold of an opportunity which the gods seem to have thrown into my way, to exercise both your prudence and valour at the same time, and to advantage.

The frontier-towns of the kingdom of Memphis on the side of Libya, as Plinthinus, Taposiris, Scyatis, Oasis the lesser, and several others, have acquainted me, by a private deputation, that they have been sorely afflicted by a hideous serpent in their neighbourhood; which, as they believe, has his retreat in a den of mount Aspis, and ravages all the plain, call’d the little Catabathmus; where they are oblig’d to seek their sustenance. They at first thought of desiring the assistance of the king’s huntsmen; but then they imagin’d, that the queen, being taken up with affairs which she would think of greater importance, would be little concern’d at a misfortune which could not penetrate to the royal mansions; and especially as she had already let the nomarchs or governors know, that she requir’d no other care of them, with regard to their provinces, than to levy the imposts, and to prevent revolts. Besides, added he, it is very well known, that the court has no taste for fatiguing and hazardous exercises; and that of all those who now compose it, not one would be ready to undertake an expedition, where no other advantage is to be hop’d but the welfare of the people. They therefore apply to me in the conclusion, as to the governor of a prince, in whose virtuous inclination the hopes of the whole kingdom center, and whose example animates the flower of the youth of Memphis to the most noble exercises of body and mind: Adding, That if this prince would, under my care, be their leader in the expedition, they would receive him in every place he should pass thro’ with all the marks of respect and gratitude due to his rank and worth. I immediately undertook for you, and for some other young lords, your academical companions, who would be proud of the honour of accompanying you. But I told the deputy, that to avoid all appearance of affectation, we would appoint a hunting-match; that for the same reason we would make no stop, either in going or returning, at any city of note; and that they should, upon no account, make any preparations to receive you that could have the appearance of ceremony: it was with the same view, that I dispatch’d this deputy as privately as he came, without allowing him so much as to wait on you. Sethos was pleas’d with all these precautions on his part, and thank’d him as well for his zeal as his care. Amedes immediately interrupting him, said, that since he approv’d of all the measures he had taken, he advised him to depart early the next morning, to prevent any obstacle that might hinder their journey. That he should therefore employ the remainder of the day in selecting, with all the prudence of an able chief, such of the young noblemen his companions, as best deserv’d to be confided in, because they would find upon the spot all the men they should want to make up a number: And finally, that he should recommend to them all to speak no otherwise of their expedition, than of a customary hunting of wild beasts.

Sethos having given notice to his eight companions, whom we have already mention’d, they all took horse the next morning, attended only by some slaves, and rode along the north side of the lake Moeris. Amedes, for their greater encouragement, told them, during their journey, that great hunting-matches were by the antient heroes look’d upon as an apprenticeship to war; not only on account of the long courses they were oblig’d to run, the inconveniencies they were liable to, and, in a word, all the bodily fatigues this exercise demanded of them; but far more by reason of the judgment, nice observation, and exact knowledge of the hills, valleys, and by-ways, which a hunter was oblig’d to acquire: But, added he, the hunting you are now going about is a real war: Its motive, in the first place, is the only one which in general can render war lawful; that is, the defence of the people. For whereas hunting with most great men is but a savage passion, which puts them upon destroying the innocent animals of the woods and fields, and often spoiling the lands thro’ which they pass; you are going to deliver a whole people from a monster that destroys their harvest, and devours their sheep and shepherds: nay, you have the resolution to go in search of a dreadful serpent, which, according to report, is of an enormous size and length, cover’d all over with scales, that are proof, as I am inform’d, against all darts. Shall we then confine ourselves to shut him up in his den, if we can discover the entrance? But tho’ it should have no more than one outlet, it will be easy for him in time to force a way thro’. Shall we be contented to drive him out of the plain of Catabathmus, and beyond the mountains of Libya, by force of our numbers and cries? But as soon as we are departed, he may return again: And besides, it would not be generous to throw upon our neighbours, tho’ our enemies, a desolation from which we may have just deliver’d our own country. I dare propose to you, my lords, a project more worthy of you. Let us endeavour to take this monster alive, and carry him in triumph into the king’s park. Thereby you will accustom yourselves to an advantageous practice in almost all the incidents of life, which is to prefer skill to force. The youth were all charm’d at this proposal of Amedes, and promis’d him faithfully to obey his orders in the execution of this design. He answer’d them, That prince Sethos, who however should never be out of his sight, must be their leader in this expedition. That by commanding them, he would learn to make an advantageous use, not only of the valour, but of the advice of his officers; and that consequently, as in a well-disciplin’d army, and a war duly concerted, every one would have a share in the glory of the success, in proportion not only to his valour, but to his knowledge.

After six days march, our warriors having discover’d the nearest point of mount Aspis, imagin’d that the monster made his retreat thither to be the nearer to the inhabited and fertile plains. They had already observ’d his tracks by means of slime he had left upon the corn and hedges, which he had laid even with the ground. But, as yet, they had not seen any person who could tell them where he was; because the very noise of his scales, which was to be heard at a great distance, made all the inhabitants of the plain fly before him; after he had devour’d some persons, who, thinking themselves out of his reach, stopp’d to view him. They only remark’d, that he made a very short stay in places at a little distance from the mountain; and that he return’d thither as soon as he had made prey of any cattle in the meadows. Our noble hunters, that they might be more sure of their game, continu’d their way toward mount Aspis. They were not above half a league from it, when they discover’d between them and the mountain a large morass, and behind it a sort of hillock, which look’d as if cover’d over with leaves of ising-glass, that glitter’d in the sun. Fixing their eyes upon this object, they soon perceiv’d some motion. They immediately stopp’d to observe it with the greater attention: And it appear’d to be the monster roll’d about itself, that chang’d its posture without shifting its place. Sethos, who now began to exercise his office of commander, address’d himself to the company, and said, My dear companions, as our design is to take this monster alive, I presume, the first thing necessary will be to know exactly his length and bulk, that we may be the better acquainted with the enemy we are to encounter; and the rather, since without doubt we shall be oblig’d to convey him away, like other savage creatures, in an iron cage, into which we must find means to put him: ’Tis of importance therefore now to know his dimensions, that we may, as soon as possible, order one to be made in the nearest town. In order to this, it is my opinion, that we all march slowly on one side of this animal, like a caravan pursuing its way, without making the least sign of attacking him. It is the nature of all savage animals to avoid mankind, especially when they march in companies, unless they are excited by wrath or hunger. The present tranquil state of this monster gives us no reason to think he is disturb’d by either, so that I fancy he will retire as soon as he sees us. Then let us endeavour to observe at a distance such objects, as trees or large stones, which when he stretches out to his full length, he may reach with the two extremities of his body; and when we are on the other side of the morass, we will measure the distances. Sethos appointed some of them, whose peculiar business it should be to make these observations: Others he nam’d to remark the bulk of the serpent, by comparing it with the height of any thing he might pass by; and with the rest, among whom was Amedes, he undertook to keep the monster always in sight, and even to advance near enough to discover, if possible, the entrance into his den. Amedes shew’d by his punctual obedience, his approbation of what his pupil had propos’d.

What Sethos foresaw, actually happen’d. As soon as the serpent perceiv’d at a distance this troop of horsemen, together with the slaves of about twenty persons, he began to unfold himself: His triangular head rising as it were out of the basis of the cone, which was form’d by all the Revolvings of his body, he at first erected, by easy degrees, to the height of two men; but he immediately popp’d it down again, and made off towards the mountain: With the middle of his body he form’d a ring or circle; the diameter of which was equal to the height he had lifted his head to: The lower part of this circle towards the tail serv’d as a rest, by means of which he push’d himself forward without any rebound, and very slowly. However, the length of each of these motions soon brought him to the foot of the mountain, and left the place entirely free for them to take measure of his track. Upon an exact calculation, they found his length to be near 45 feet, and the thickest part of his body, which was his head, about 6 feet in diameter, or about 18 or 19 in circumference. While most of these young huntsmen were busied in making this calculation, Sethos, Amedes, and three or four more follow’d the monster: They kept as much as possible out of his sight, by going the most round-about or by-ways which the situation of the place would admit of, for fear he should seek to conceal the place of his retreat, as is common for some animals when they find they are discover’d. He compass’d the basis of the first peak of the mountain, till he got almost over-against the morass from whence he came: Here the basis of the second peak began, and betwixt both was a pretty long and narrow avenue to the serpent’s den. Our observers had the pleasure to see him enter at a gap or passage, that he almost fill’d up, and through which he dragg’d his body with difficulty, because he could not form it into a circle as in the open field.

After these observations, which were made the first evening they arriv’d, Sethos conducted his troop to the place where he propos’d to reside till the conclusion of their expedition; which was in the neighbourhood of Scyathis.

As they were conversing together upon what they had seen, Sethos observ’d to them, that this serpent being by nature much like an adder, its activity lay only in his head, and in the part that might be call’d his tail; which was about twelve feet to the first joint, where his body began to form a circle when he roll’d along. The first degree of valour, added he, and indeed the only one we shall want upon this occasion, is, to know the just extent of the danger, and not to be terrify’d with the approach of it, when in reality we are out of its reach: And even supposing that the rage of the creature should make him more nimble and formidable than it seems to be, yet I judge by his unweildiness, we need only keep at eight or ten feet from him to be secure from all manner of danger.

The next morning Sethos, accompany’d by Amedes, who had entirely approv’d his project, and by three of their companions, to whom he afterwards open’d it, took their way towards the den. Their design was to enter it when the monster was absent, to see if there was any possibility of laying snares there to entrap him. The first of those centinels, whom he had detach’d to observe the monster’s motions, had given information that he had quitted his den a little before day, and made directly towards the morass, into which he plung’d; and that afterward, crawling toward the north-side of the plain, his comrades, before they follow’d him, had agreed, that as fast as one advanc’d, the others behind should be within call of one another, that they might successively give notice one to the other of the monster’s return. Sethos being thereby safe from a surprize, enter’d first into the den: They had all provided themselves with light iron boots, a precaution common among the Egyptians, when they only walk’d in the fields, to secure them against those stinging insects which come with the African winds in some seasons of the year. On the left, they found a natural arch, where, at intervals, drops of water trickled down a stony sloaping soil; and on the right, a bed of clay, which by several marks seem’d to be the place where the serpent lay: At the end of this cavern was another opening, thro’ which they might have gone farther: But as they were not led there by a motive of curiosity, they did not go near to it. It was enough for Sethos, that he found the inside of the cave was capacious enough to hold a cage, contriv’d in such a manner as might serve not only to contain the animal, when taken, but as a trap to catch him. So having made all the observations necessary for this design, he left the cave, and hasten’d to Scyathis, where, with his four companions, he apply’d himself immediately to the chief magistrates, and demanded of them for his atchievement 3000 men of the militia of their province, but not of those appointed for the military service of the year: He told them, that tho’ he believ’d these soldiers capable of exposing themselves to the greatest perils in case of necessity, he would be answerable for every danger, if they punctually obey’d the orders of the young lords he should appoint to be their captains. He order’d the troops to be ready in three days at Scyathis, arm’d with bucklers, swords and quivers of arrows, without forgetting their trumpets and kettle-drums. And to conclude, he desir’d an order might be sent to all the smiths in the town to apply themselves immediately to the making of a machine according to the plan he should give them.

This young prince having obtain’d his demands, with great acknowledgements from those who granted them, he order’d the smiths to make a cage of eight feet square, and fifty long: The sides were to be of bars of iron, so contriv’d as to be taken out, and set in again with ease. The master bars, which were to receive the extremities of the others, were likewise to be rivetted in one another, and the whole to be plac’d upon low wheels, at ten feet distance: At the entrance into this cage were to be plac’d spikes of iron, in such manner that they might give way to the monster at going in; but if he should endeavour to come out, might fasten in his scales and stop him. The reason for ordering it in several pieces, was not only that several smiths might work at it at the same time, but that it might be transported in several parts with ease to the place where it was to be employ’d. The whole was undertaken, and perform’d in three days; and the troops being assembled at the same time, Sethos appointed the fourth day in the morning for the execution of the enterprize.

Having plac’d centinels the evening before, as he did the first time, to observe which way the monster took at leaving his den in the morning, he caus’d all the pieces of the cage to be transported thither in carts by day-break. It was put together in less than three hours, and stopp’d at the end, and on both sides, by pieces of the rock which they found in the cavern. The mouth of the cage being a little wider than the entrance into the den, it would not be perceiv’d by the monster, especially in the disturbance which Sethos propos’d to give him. He next order’d a detachment of his troops to file off one by one, with the greatest silence, toward the place where they knew the serpent then was, and to get beyond him to the other side of the entrance into the cave; while another detachment beset his haunt. At this first motion, the monster, who did not yet perceive he was pursu’d, made the best of his way, as he had done before, towards his cave: but discovering a long train of people at a distance, he stopp’d, and soon after began to hiss in a horrible manner. Sethos’s companions then gave orders for the troops to join, and to close their ranks by degrees: At the same time he caus’d them to sound all their trumpets, and beat their kettledrums, while one part of the soldiers, as they had agreed, clash’d their swords upon their bucklers; and a greater number, gall’d him with thousands of arrows. The monster perceiving he had resolute enemies to encounter with, who notwithstanding his motions and furious menaces, baffled him, by drawing near to, and retiring from him, and who besides had shut up all retreat but to his den, hasten’d thither faster than he had done before. The noise of the military instruments, the shouts of the soldiers, and the storm of arrows, pursu’d him more and more. It was observ’d, that soon after he had got his head into the cage, he made an attempt to slip back again; but being stopp’d by the spikes of the bars, and finding himself more closely pursu’d, he chose to take refuge in his prison. He push’d forwards with all the activity he was capable of, deceiv’d, perhaps, by the hopes of getting out at the other end, and escaping by those out-lets which he knew were in his cavern. He was immediately follow’d by those who were order’d to put in the bars at the entrance into the cage; who having likewise widen’d the entrance into the den, with the help of tools they had convey’d thither for that purpose, they drew the cage out with a long team of horses. The inhabitants of the neighbouring towns and villages, who were there in throngs to be eye-witnesses of this expedition, saw the monster stretch’d out at his length, and turning his eyes sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other, without any marks of fury. Sethos disbanded his troops on the spot, without returning to the town, that he might avoid all the ceremonies of thanks. He commended their exact obedience to the least signs given to them by their commanders, in which they were exercised perfectly. The monster was drawn in his cage backwards, that all objects which might present to his view in the passage, might the less disturb him: And thus he was conducted to the lake Moeris; where Sethos, for the greater ease, put him on board a vessel to be convey’d by water. Sethos and his companions accompany’d him to Memphis; but he would not allow any food to be given him during the whole passage, well knowing that serpents would live much longer without eating.

Diodorus⁠[53] relates the hunting and taking of a serpent of as monstrous a size as this; And our own travellers pretend to have seen some of above 100 feet long; but no one ever question’d the truth of Diodorus’s relation of that monster he mention’d in the place quoted. It was brought out of Ethiopia to Alexandria in the reign of Ptolomy Philadelphus. The generosity of this prince, which was to none more extensive, than to those who presented him with curiosities, was a motive to some bold men to make him a present of this kind. Some of them lost their lives at the first onset; but at last, they tam’d the monster by expedients not very different from those I have related from my authors, under the name of Sethos. Diodorus adds, that by fasting they made him as tame as other domestick animals.

Tho’ Osoroth was not so taken with the wonders of nature, or the industry of men, as Ptolomy has since been, he receiv’d his son, and the young noblemen his companions, with great encomiums. The queen, for her part, was secretly disturb’d at this first exploit of Sethos; and Amedes thinking to overcome evil with good, from this time hastned to render Sethos more worthy of her jealousy. He thought he might now rely securely enough upon his pupil’s prudence and courage, to execute the scheme he had form’d for his advantage: but it would oblige him to be absent three or four months from court; however, he did not think it would be difficult to obtain leave. The queen seldom allow’d Sethos to see the king, who, conformable to his character, as seldom ask’d after him; and the vanity and corruption of the court made the courtiers have no great regard for the young prince.

In eight years which had now pass’d since the death of Nephté, Daluca had been deliver’d of two sons, who, with their elder brother are confounded in the common annals, by the name of the three Anonymous of the issue of Osoroth; but the private memoirs I have before me, call the first Beon, and the second Pemphos. As soon as they were of an age fitting to appear before a father, who thought of nothing but his diversion, the mother brought them continually into his presence, to accustom him, if possible, to own them, and them only, for his sons: She even affected to give to the first all the prerogative of primogeniture, tho’ neither one nor the other had any right on that account. Sethos residing in the palace, began now to be an eye-sore to her: Till then she had born it patiently, that it might not be said the king had no issue; but purposing for the future to heap all favours upon her own, she sought to supplant an elder brother, whose birth-right, and what could already be call’d merit, excited in her so tormenting a jealousy. Amedes, for the sake of Sethos, taking advantage of this disposition, which he plainly saw in the queen, address’d himself to her, to obtain the king’s consent to let him visit some of the chief temples of Egypt. He added at the same time, to remove all suspicion from her mind, that in the course of this journey, which would be for three or four months, the prince should lodge with none but the priests. Daluca, tho’ she thought very meanly of the design, gave her full consent to it, and engaged to procure that of the king immediately. She left Amedes with a great deal of satisfaction, believing he had inspired the prince with a fit of devotion, which would take him off from all views of ambition and policy: and in a few moments she sent him the king’s sign manual; letting him know by the bearer, she did not think it necessary, that for so short an absence the prince should take leave of the king, or any one else. This was just what Amedes wanted; who speaking to Sethos of the inside of the pyramid, which he had been desirous of visiting, and of the disposition he was now in to accompany him thither, did not, however, yet discover his whole design to him: but he had taken care to make the high priest of Memphis (the same who had conducted the late queen to the labyrinth) acquainted with it.

Sethos and Amedes left the palace on foot, telling the chief officer of the prince’s apartment, that they might perhaps not return in some time, and that the queen was inform’d of their journey. Being provided with a lamp, and whatever was necessary to light it when it went out, they arriv’d by that time it was night at the pyramid: Amedes order’d it so, that he might go alone with Sethos into that dark building. They ascended together to the sixteenth step on the north-side, where there is a square window always open: But this entrance, which was but three feet every way, led to a passage of the same dimensions, where they were oblig’d to crawl upon their bellies. Sethos went foremost, which was an honour that Amedes did not envy him, nor the trouble of carrying the lamp: and besides, he never gave him any previous knowledge of the length of each passage, nor of what he was to meet at the end of it; tho’ every one had its peculiar difficulties: But not to detain my readers with all the particulars, I shall at once bring Sethos to the place, where, guided by Amedes, he perceiv’d a large well, crusted on every side with a black pitchy scum as smooth as glass. The bare mouth of this well by lamp-light was a frightful object: The depth of it seem’d to have no bounds; and there was no sign either of wheel, pully or rope to descend it, or to sound the bottom. Here it was likewise, that all those who were not acquainted with the secret; or who if they were, had not the courage to pursue it, put a stop to their enquiries. Amedes leaning with his elbows on the brink of the well, and holding the lamp, waited in silence the effect of Sethos’s curiosity; till being satisfy’d of his resolution by his impatience, he arose, and placing the lamp, the bottom of which was made hollow for the purpose, in the form of a helmet, upon his head, he set himself astride upon the brink of the well, on the same side where he had been the whole time. He immediately put his foot upon a step of iron of about six inches long, which the shadow had conceal’d from the sight of Sethos, and the more because it was very narrow. Amedes then getting entirely on the inside of the well, put his other foot on another such step about a foot lower; and so, without saying any thing, continued to descend, and Sethos soon follow’d him: Being gone down sixty steps, they met with a stop, tho’ they were not near the bottom of the well; on the side they perceiv’d a window, which was the entrance into a pretty easy passage, hollow’d out of the natural rock, by which there is a gradual winding descent for 124 feet.

Hitherto the inside of the pyramid is such as I have just given a small description of; excepting that the bottom of the well is fill’d with rubbish for a considerable height: But this winding passage led to a grate with two folding doors of brass, which open’d with the least push, and without any noise; but with the fall in shutting again, by a contrivance in the hinges, made a very great sound, which echo’d till it lost itself a good way off in a vast edifice. They were then at the bottom of the well, which is in all 150 feet deep. Opposite to this gate, which was on the north-side, there was another on the south-side, shut with iron grates, each bar of which was as thick as a man’s arm. Thro’ these grates Sethos saw a long walk, to which he could perceive no end: On the east-side of it was a long row of arches or vaults, from which proceeded a great light of lamps and torches; and from the bottom of these vaults he heard the voices of men and women, which made very harmonious musick. Amedes inform’d Sethos, That the walk he saw thro’ the grates was a series of the bottom of the other pyramids, which were real tombs; and that the arches led to a subterranean temple, where the priest and priestesses, whose voices he had heard, perform’d every night different sorts of sacrifices and ceremonies; which he could not yet reveal to him, because he was not initiated. It is easy to imagine, that a young man of a warm disposition, whose curiosity also was excited by so many circumstances, long’d to be initiated; and he instantly desir’d Amedes to procure it for him. My son, said Amedes, that courage which has led you hither, and which if you pursue, will conduct you farther, is a preparatory step to this prerogative. From this moment I suppose your youth at an end, and that from the desire you have just testify’d for the initiation, you this day begin to be a perfect man. The initiation, to which we are not allowed to invite any one whomsoever in direct terms, is the enterprize of which I spoke ambiguously to you, and for which I requir’d particular proofs of your prudence and valour. Father, said Sethos, I then conceiv’d a faint idea of it, but I never would presume to mention it, fearing you would reject with anger a proposal which seem’d to me to be too rash at my age, and which even now I should not have presum’d to make you, were it not in this place. It is with reason, son, reply’d Amedes, that you now look upon this demand as very bold. The preparations which will be requir’d of you, with regard to the body, are painful and perilous, but they are very trivial in regard to those of the mind. The priests, who are accountable to nobody, either as for their choice or refusal, are extremely rigorous, especially with regard to those who are destin’d to the throne, and desire to partake of the mysteries of the priesthood. They will examine you on topicks of the most sublime moral, by questions which you can’t foresee, and to which you can’t answer but by filling your mind with copious and enlightned principles, from whence all your replies must naturally flow. Oh! my father, reply’d Sethos, how much time I have hitherto lost, and what treasures I have squander’d in the lessons you have already given me! I consider my attention to your precepts till now only as my duty; whereas I ought to have look’d on them as the only way by which I could attain to real riches. Son, answer’d Amedes, as yet, nothing is lost: Your youth has been duly employ’d in making you acquainted with the condition of mankind; and you must not expect the gifts of heaven before their time. You will, on proper occasions, recal to your mind a great number of those principles you now think forgotten: And besides, the priests themselves will instruct you for three months previous to your examination. But it is time for us to repose ourselves, whatever resolution we take, whether it be to return by the way we came, or to go on. They therefore sate down upon a stone bench, which went all round the bottom of the well.

Then it was that Sethos, struck with the grandeur of those subterraneous works, unknown to the greater part of the Egyptians themselves, indulg’d his astonishment, and extoll’d the magnificency of the kings his forefathers, who had brought such vast undertakings to perfection. Amedes told him, that these works, consider’d in themselves, were truly worthy of his highest admiration; but, added he, do you make no reflection on the hardship those have undergone, who have executed them with their own hands? I perceive, said Sethos, I have been guilty of a fault in judgment, by praising these enterprizes, and have begun the new way of thinking I propos’d to myself by an error. You need not doubt of it, son, said Amedes, you here see the blood and substance of an infinite number of wretches, whose estates and persons have been employ’d in these immense labours: Millions of men have even perish’d by the sudden falling in of the earth. Sesostris, that hero, to whom Egypt is oblig’d, on other accounts, for great part of its glory, has, in vain, caus’d to be engraven on the stately monuments erected by his command at Thebes, that he had employ’d none but foreign slaves in the building of them; that alone would be no justification: For tho’ it be the fate of slaves to serve, we ought always to remember they are men, and never to expose them to unreasonable labours, or evident dangers, except upon extraordinary and pressing occasions. And as to captives taken in war, it is yet a barbarous custom, in all nations, to reduce persons free-born, and often of the highest birth, taken in battle, or at a siege, to the state of slavery: So that neither I nor you are secure, in the first battle we may be engaged in against a foreign enemy, from being liable to the meanest of servitude, and the most unworthy treatment. Let me insist upon your giving the world a contrary example in the first victory you may obtain over any nation, capable of society, and worthy of your alliance: We shall find in the sequel that this advice was not unprofitable. But, continu’d Amedes, with regard to the enormous works you now see, I must inform you, that Cheobus, the eighth king of Memphis, and founder of the great pyramid, on which they are all dependant, was, on his own judgment, depriv’d of sepulture in the tomb he had built for himself; and punish’d for the vanity of his tyrannical undertaking, by the shame of having his design frustrated. The other pyramids are neither so large, nor have they such works on the inside as this of Cheobus; and even their subterraneous passages, which you saw through the grates, are the work of Cheobus. His successor, whose conduct was not so much dislik’d as his was, took advantage of his folly to order their tombs in a place already destin’d for that use. For, in short, tho’ we ought most certainly to condemn all those undertakings of princes which are a burden to their subjects, their superfluous wealth may be employ’d in giving evidences of their magnificency. It is actually very praise-worthy in them to incourage the industrious, and to cut out work for those who want it. So tho’ the vain extravagance of a king brings his subjects to beggary, expences prudently laid out are preservatives against it. Among the latter, the wisest beyond comparison are those which have a view to the general advantage of the state. The kings of Egypt have render’d their names immortal by their works on account of the Nile; and one might say, they look’d upon all Egypt as a mansion of pleasure, which it was their duty to improve, adorn and maintain. However, to put an end to this subject, the use you perceiv’d to be made of one part of these subterraneous edifices for the service of the gods, obliges me to ask you, Whether you don’t approve of such undertakings, however expensive and perillous they may be, when they have an object so noble and so sacred? But before you answer me; suppose the priests themselves are putting you to a trial by this question. Sethos having reflected upon it with greater attention than he otherwise would have done, answer’d thus; I can’t think it allowable to be cruel to men, under pretence of serving the gods; and am persuaded, ’tis the forming a wrong idea of the authors and benefactors of mankind to offer them such victims. Human sacrifices have been abolish’d by a more enlighten’d religion; and I think our late kings seem’d to have abandon’d these dangerous, and at the same time, too laborious undertakings of subterraneous edifices, which are all very antient: But I think, at the same time, we can’t better repair the errors of our fore-fathers, than by employing the monuments of their tyranny in the worship of the gods, as I see it is a practice in these times. Son, answer’d Amedes, such answers as this will extremely facilitate your initiation.

This their discourse was overheard, tho’ Sethos knew nothing of it; for the priests having notice given them by the noise of the folding doors, immediately repair’d thither, to spy thro’ private openings in the wall who were come to the bottom of the well, that they might prepare every thing for their reception, if they ventur’d farther. Sethos and Amedes having rested, and discours’d thus for the space of an hour; Amedes first arose, and said to Sethos; Son, you see on the north-side the gate by which we enter’d, and thro’ which we may return; or here, on the east-side, you see another gate, which will lead you to a way parallel to the extremities of the arches, from which you are as yet excluded. This passage was six feet broad, very even, running in a strait line, and vaulted in an arch of a semi-circle upon a moulding which run on both sides at six feet from the earth. Sethos being about to enter, could not avoid turning his eye to an inscription engraven in black letters upon a very white marble, which was plac’d in the nature of a pediment upon the mouldings of the arch thro’ which was the entrance into this passage: He there read these words; Whoever goes thro this passage alone, and without looking behind him, shall be purify’d by fire, by water, and by air; and if he can vanquish the fears of death, he shall return from the bowels of the earth, he shall see light again, and he shall be intitled to the privilege of preparing his mind for the revelation of the mysteries of the great goddess Isis.

The bare reading of this inscription frighted away almost all who had the courage to descend to the bottom of the well. Some, tho’ but few, went thither of themselves, on no other motive but a most hazardous curiosity. But when any one went to demand the initiation, the priests, who seem’d to grant it without any difficulty, only requir’d him to write down his name and petition, and then immediately appointed him an initiate to inform him of the trials he was to pass thro’. This guide attended him into the pyramid, and led him to the mouth of the well, shew’d him the steps, and went down first himself, as Amedes had done with Sethos. But the priests were pretty sure, that the conditions enjoin’d by the inscription would be accepted by none but men of a more than common intrepidity. And as courage alone was not all the merit they requir’d in their initiates, these terrible trials serv’d only to admit those who aspir’d to it to a very severe examination upon all the other virtues. Some were of opinion, they were to descend alive into hell, and not to return without the most frightful labours; Others imagin’d, that all the initiates submitted to a real death; and tho’ they saw them afterwards rise again, they fear’d the agonies: They also knew, that some who were esteem’d men of singular valour, never return’d at all. The initiates, who were tied down to an inviolable secrecy, allow’d the liberty of these different interpretations to those who had either heard of this inscription, or who had been satisfy’d with the reading of it. However, as the initiates were in extraordinary repute among the people, for the great virtues they had given proofs of, and especially for the incorruptible justice, which was their characteristick; as they were respected by the kings themselves, who look’d upon them not only as men intrepid in battle, but as the most experienc’d ministers they could be serv’d with, and often as their mediators between them and the priests, whose influence they were sometimes afraid of: To conclude, as nothing could be more agreeable to a private person, than to enjoy almost all the privileges of the priesthood, without being tied down to their subjections and disciplines; there were always some who had resolution enough to expose themselves to any dangers for the sake of the initiation.

Sethos was too young to be led by any remote views; his high birth had left little room in his mind for that ambition to rise, so common in other men. Amedes reflected more than he upon the inestimable advantage it would be for a king of Egypt to be initiated. This young prince therefore being in reality push’d on by no other motive than a violent curiosity, and arguing, that he might as well come out again in safety as others had done, snatch’d the lamp out of the hands of Amedes, who yielded it to him with a caution once for all, to add prudence to his courage. However he follow’d him at a distance without his knowledge. This was an establish’d custom; because, if the courage of the candidate should happen to fail him before he had gone thro’ the first trial, his guide, who was always near him, brought him back out of the well, by the way he came, to the window of the pyramid thro’ which he enter’d: There he advis’d him, for his own honour, not to divulge an undertaking in which he had no success, and warn’d him never to attempt obtaining the initiation, either at Memphis, or at any other of the twelve temples of Egypt where it was conferr’d. But the first matter of astonishment to those who persisted in their design, was the length of the way, for they were oblig’d to walk more than a league in this subterraneous passage, without seeing any thing new. At last they observ’d in the wall on the right hand, or on the south-side, a small iron-door shut, and two paces beyond it three men having helmets on, upon which was the head of Anubis. This gave occasion to Orpheus to make of these three men the three heads of the dog Cerberus, which admitted persons into hell, but suffer’d none to come out again. One of these three men said to the candidate; We are not posted here to stop your passage: Go on, if the gods have given you the courage: but if you be so unfortunate as to return, we shall then stop your passage: As yet you may go back, but from this moment you’ll never get out of this place, unless you go on, without turning or looking back. If the candidate was not shock’d at these words, he was suffer’d to pass, and the three men follow’d him at a distance; but his first guide abandon’d him, and enter’d the little door: A moment afterwards, the candidate perceiv’d at the end of this passage the light of a very white but lively flame, just kindled: Sethos mended his pace to come at it. At the end of this passage was a vaulted room of above 100 feet square. At the entrance into it were, on the right, and on the left, two piles of wood, or rather pales of wood planted in the ground upright, and very near to one another, twin’d about in the nature of vines, with branches of Arabian palm, Egyptian thorn and tamarind, three sorts of wood very pliant, fragrant and cumbustible; the smoke went out thro’ long pipes made for that purpose: But this flame, which easily reach’d to the top of the vault, and bore down again in waves, gave the space it possess’d all the resemblance of a burning furnace: But what was yet more terrible, Sethos observ’d upon the ground, between the two piles, a grate of red-hot iron, eight feet broad and thirty feet long. This grate was form’d of bars, which were so close to one another, that there was only room for a man to set one foot between them. He perceiv’d there was no other passage but this, and he went thro’ it with as much agility as circumspection. Most fiery trials, of which history makes mention, were no other than these: But historians, who don’t know the truth of the matter, and who love to exaggerate their miracles, say, that such a one pass’d thro’ flames of fire, instead of saying he pass’d thro’ two lines of flames, and that he walk’d over red-hot bars, instead of saying that he walk’d between them.

Sethos having with joy pass’d this trial, saw at some paces distance a canal of more than fifty feet broad, which came in on one side of this subterraneous room thro’ grates of iron, and went out again in the same manner on the other side. This canal, which came out of the Nile, before it enter’d thro’ the grates, made a great noise, as of a water-fall, which Sethos mistook for the noise of the flames he had just escap’d: By the light of these flames, tho’ they were considerably lower’d, he perceiv’d on the other side of the canal an arch, in the inside of which were steps; the highest whereof were involv’d in darkness. Sethos imagin’d there was the gate thro’ which he was to pass into the open air, and the rather, because the passage was mark’d out in the canal by two balustrades of iron, which arose from the bottom of the water on the right and on the left. Being apprehensive that the light of the flames might fail him before he reach’d the other side, he made use of one of the firebrands to light up his lamp, which the rarefaction of the air had extinguish’d amidst the flames. He undress’d himself, put his cloaths upon his head, and ty’d them with a girdle, which pass’d under his arms, across his breast: In this manner he swam cross the canal, holding his lamp burning in one hand. He quickly got his cloaths on again; and ascending the steps of the arch which was before him, he came to a landing-place of six feet long and three broad. The bottom was a draw-bridge, which hung by very strong irons to rings fastned in the uppermost step of the arch; so that this draw-bridge seem’d to be let down to receive him. The walls on each side of him were of brass, and serv’d as supporters for the naves of two great wheels of the same metal, one on the right, and the other on the left: The lower half of them went down behind the walls; and on the upper parts, which were in sight, lay a great iron chain: The top or roof of the landing-place discover’d, at the height of fifteen feet, three dark concavities, which resembled the inside of three large hollow statues, look’d into from below: Before him was a door cover’d all over with the whitest ivory, adorn’d in the middle with two mouldings of gold; which shew’d that this door, that had no scutcheons on the outside, open’d inwards with two leaves. Sethos having set his lamp on the floor, try’d twice or thrice in vain to push open this door, which had resisted the force of much stronger men than he: But to the lintel of the door, which was rais’d about seven feet above the threshold, and to which the ends of the draw-bridge seem’d to be suspended by two strong chains, were fasten’d two great rings of polish’d steel, which by the light of the lamp shone like the finest diamond. The candidate could not avoid laying hold of them to try if by this means he might open the door: and here he began his last trial, the most difficult for an astonish’d imagination; for the very first motion which he gave to these rings, rais’d the triggers of the two wheels, which being turn’d by a prodigious weight hanging to their chains, produc’d several very frightful effects. The draw-bridge began to raise itself at that end which was nearest the door; so that the candidate was oblig’d either to recover the steps, and so turn back again, contrary to the law prescrib’d him, or to hold fast by the rings: but the very lintel of the door was likewise rais’d up with the candidate hanging at it. The lamp which slid upon the draw-bridge was soon overset, and left him in the dark, in the midst of a horrid noise made by the two wheels, such, that the most couragious would hardly forbear thinking that a hundred machines of iron and brass were breaking in pieces about his ears. This motion, which lasted almost a minute, rais’d the candidate to the height of a quarter of a circle: but left the lintel, which was then loosen’d from the great wheels, might fall again with too great violence, being born downwards by its own weight, and that of the candidate, it was fastned with ropes, which went thro’ several pullies, to another wheel made up of flies or fanes of iron plates, which broke the fall, and prevented the candidate from being hurt. But at the same time this wheel, which was plac’d opposite to him in a large open place above the ivory doors, by its motion made him feel a violent agitation of the air. The candidate being in this manner let down again to the place from whence the machine had lifted him up, the two leaves of the ivory door open’d by the motion of the lowermost trigger, and presented to his view a place where it was broad day, or if in the night-time, was illuminated with lamps, which caus’d a light equal to it.

Sethos, who came thither about sun-rising, perceiving the Ox Apis thro’ the bars of his stable, which was opposite to the sanctuary of the temple of the three deities at Memphis, found, to his great surprize, that he was come out from under the great hollow pedestal of the triple statue of Osiris, Isis and Horus, before which so many supplications had been offer’d for the late queen’s recovery. He was receiv’d by the priests, who made a lane for him behind the sanctuary. The high-priest embracing him immediately, extoll’d his valour, and congratulated him upon the happy success of his trials. He then presented him a cup fill’d with the water of the canal he had just pass’d. Whilst he was drinking, the high-priest said, Let this water be a draught of lethe or forgetfulness with regard to all the false maxims which you have heard from the mouths of prophane men⁠[54]⁠. After this, making him turn toward the triple statue, he order’d him to prostrate himself before it, and then said these words over him: Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians, pour down thy spirit upon thy new votary, who has gone thro’ so many perils and laborious trials to come before thee: Make him victorious also over his passions, by rendring him tractable to thy laws, that he may be worthy to be admitted to thy mysteries. All the priests having repeated the first words of this Invocation: Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians; they rais’d Sethos up, and the high-priest presented him a compound liquor, by the Greeks call’d Cyceon; saying, May this be a draught of Mnemosyne or memory for the lessons,⁠[55] which will now be given you by wisdom. These were all the ceremonies of the first day. The high-priest restor’d Sethos to Amedes, who standing behind him, led him to the apartment prepar’d for him in the college of the priests, which was provided with all necessaries, he being not to stir from those holy places till the ceremonies of his initiation were perform’d.

As much as Sethos was overjoy’d for having form’d a right judgment of what he had to do in trials which required as much presence of mind as resolution; yet greater was the joy of Amedes, who having so precious a trust committed to his care, had prevail’d upon himself to hazard the life of this young prince to obtain the initiation for him. As he was apprehensive that Sethos would soon be oblig’d to quit Memphis on account of the queen’s jealousy, and that consequently he should never have the like time or opportunity to procure him this advantage for the future; he put him to these trials as soon as he thought his tender age capable of going thro’ them. Had it not been for these pressing reasons, Amedes would never have expos’d a youth at sixteen years to such dangers and uncertainties as had perplex’d men of the greatest valour and prudence, not to mention those rash persons whose hearts or heads had fail’d them in the enterprize. For as soon as any candidate had pass’d the little door that was shut, and got a sight of the flames, if he offer’d to return, the three men, who were officers of the second rank, seiz’d him, and made him enter thro’ this door into the subterraneous temples, where he was for ever confin’d, that he might not divulge the nature of the trials. Just so it was with respect to the canal; if any came thither after passing thro’ the flames, and was deterr’d from crossing the water, either by swimming or holding by one of the two ballustrades, which appear’d above the surface: for these officers were ready to help all that ran the risque of burning or drowning; but it was in order to confine them. Their imprisonment was however not very rigid. They were made, if they desir’d it, officers of the second order in these subterraneous temples, and were allow’d to marry the daughters of such officers: But they were oblig’d, in the first place, to give an account of their condition to their families by a note written and sign’d with their own hands, in the following terms: “For attempting a rash undertaking, the just and merciful gods confine me to a perpetual but favourable prison; fear the gods, and love them.” This form made them look’d upon as dead, and discharg’d their families from all ties with regard to them. They were in reality secur’d from ever speaking to any of those they call’d prophane. The other officers of the second order, who were the children of these, had the freedom, not of changing their condition, which otherwise was not allow’d to any Egyptian, but to officiate in their turns in the superior temples, and even, like the priests themselves, to converse with every body, because they were bound to keep the secret by an oath; which they did not vouchsafe to those who had fail’d in the trials, and had therefore, said they, forfeited their engagements to themselves.

As for the latter of these trials, the noise of the wheels, and darkness of the place, made it really look like the chambers of death: But this noise serv’d likewise to give warning to the priests, who waited the candidate’s arrival in the sanctuary, to let down curtains immediately before all the crannies thro’ which the people might look in: So that the populace, if there were any in the temple, knowing nothing of the secret, imagin’d it to be thunder, which warn’d the priests of the approaching presence of a deity, who came to unfold some mystery to them. It was at this trial that Orpheus, who was then in Egypt, had fail’d: however, the priests had granted him the initiation some months before, as a peculiar favour they thought due to his merit, on another account.

This famous Greek, who had obtain’d of the gods the gift of poetry, and playing on the harp, in so eminent a degree, that in those fabulous days he pass’d for the son of Apollo and Calliope, was born in Thrace. But that being somewhat a savage country, and its fierce inhabitants more addicted to war than the sciences, he came to settle in Thessalia, among a more civiliz’d people, and in a country render’d delightful by the course of the river Peneus, and the delicious vale of Tempe. There it was he espous’d the fair Eurydice; yet more famous for the love she bore to her husband, than for her beauty. The concourse of people from all parts of Greece, which the charms of the place, and the curiosity of hearing Orpheus, had drawn into Thessalia, soon made him acquainted with the fame of the Egyptians. As superior talents generally suppose a loftiness of mind and sentiments, Orpheus resolv’d to go into Egypt to obtain the initiation, persuaded that his poetry would become more sublime, when he had gain’d a thorow knowledge of theology, morality, and nature, of which he had been inform’d the Egyptians were the true and only masters. He began from that time to learn the Egyptian tongue: but there was one great obstacle to his design, which was the absenting himself for a time from Eurydice. All he could say to her of the charms of her country in which he left her, and of the esteem she was in at the Thessalian court, could not ease that grief she entertain’d upon his first mention of it; it had a quite contrary effect upon her. It was some time before that Aristeus came to reside at this court. He pretended to be the son of Apollo, and the nymph Cyrene, the daughter of king Peneus, grandfather to the king then upon the throne. It is said, that Apollo, falling in love with this princess, carry’d her into Africa, where she gave name to the province of Cyrenia; so that Aristeus esteem’d Thessalia as the country of his ancestors. He no sooner came to this court, than he fix’d his eyes upon Eurydice, and made fruitless addresses to her, which she was so discreet as to conceal from her husband. But now she imagin’d her residence at this court, which Orpheus had offer’d as an argument of consolation, might prove most fatal in his absence; and not being able to dissuade him from his design, she declar’d she would follow him where-ever he went.

They therefore embark’d together; and, after all the labours and dangers of a tedious voyage, arriv’d at the port of Canope in the Delta, and thro’ the Heracleotick canal at one of the harbours of Memphis. As it was late, they resolv’d to lie the first night without the city. In the short way from the shore to the inn they were directed to, Eurydice felt a little smart in her heel, which she did not think of consequence enough to mention to her husband; but she was no sooner enter’d into her chamber, than she was seiz’d with a great heaviness to sleep, which made her refuse all refreshment: However, as she had eaten more than once with the company on board, her husband did not apprehend any thing from a drowsiness which seem’d to him to proceed from a cause very common and natural. She even remov’d all his uneasinesses, by telling him, she wanted nothing but rest. About half an hour afterwards, hearing her fetch her breath with great difficulty and irregularity, he ran to her; and being surpriz’d to find her face swell’d, and livid, and above all, that he could not awake her, he call’d out to his host; who no sooner saw her, but he told him, it was caus’d by the sting of some venomous insect that lay in her way, and that he would certainly find the mark of it in her foot: Having soon discover’d it to be as he said; Stranger, continu’d the host, if you desire it, I will fetch a physician, but he will find your wife dead. It is a great misfortune that you have never heard, or, if you have heard it, have never given attention to it, that there is no such thing as walking in Egypt, without having a preservative balsam about one, to apply immediately to the place stung: ’tis an infallible remedy; but a few moments delay render the evil incurable. Oh! cry’d Orpheus, I have the remedy, but my wife, my cruel wife, conceal’d this accident from me. Alas! my lord, answer’d the host, as he was retreating, I find, to her misfortune, the sting was hardly perceivable, as it often happens to the Egyptians themselves, if they are not very careful.

Thus Orpheus, after having in vain implor’d all the deities of Greece and Egypt, lost the most tender and the most faithful of wives. She was interr’d in the sepulchre of foreigners, without any ceremony, because Orpheus was so overwhelm’d with grief that he had not discover’d himself to any one. This burial-place was without the walls of Memphis, on the same side as the pyramids, and the same place where the tombs of the natives were. They were the catacombs of the mummies, which subsist to this day; but strangers were let down by a separate opening. At the entrance into these catacombs was the lake Acherusia; on the brink of which the Egyptians, when dead, were brought before their judges, as the kings were to the labyrinth: But to strangers this ceremony was not observ’d, and they were interr’d without embalming. Orpheus, in the mean time, as yet unknown, walking every day in the neighbourhood of the catacombs, where Eurydice was interr’d, met one evening with some Egyptians, who were discoursing among themselves, that there was a subterraneous communication between the catacombs and the pyramids, and that the souls of the dead had all that space to walk in. They added, that some who had had the resolution to enter into these pyramids by the opening which was visible on one side of the greatest, had there heard the voices and songs of the blessed spirits. Orpheus remembered these words; and as true lovers, especially those who never were in love before, look upon their passion as eternal, and carry their ideas of constancy even beyond the grave: so Orpheus giving himself up to this illusion, and depending upon the same sentiment in the ghost of his Eurydice, hop’d to meet her in these tombs, or to intice her to him by the sound of his voice and harp. Being return’d to Memphis, and having attentively consider’d the answers of all those whom he interrogated concerning what he had heard, he was confirm’d in his design; and taking a lamp fit for his purpose, and his lyre, which had lain unstrung for a long time, he went the next day in the evening to the first pyramid. As soon as it was night, he enter’d alone, and made its long echoing vaults ring with the name of his Eurydice. Having pass’d frightful windings and turnings, he came to the mouth of the well; and the fervent desire he had to meet either with Eurydice, or his death, made him resolved to descend. It was some consolation to him to hear thro’ the grates of the iron gate a compleat musick, in which he distinguish’d the voices of women, and even fancy’d he heard that of his Eurydice: But his satisfaction was yet greater, at reading the inscription. He saw he was at the very gate of the initiation, which had been the occasion of his voyage, though the loss of his wife had made him forget it: But then joining both ideas, and giving up his imagination to his desires, he believ’d that the initiation itself would lead him to the mansion of the souls of the blessed, and that, perhaps, he might bring back Eurydice from thence. He enter’d the narrow way, and with great resolution went thro’ the trials of fire and water. But at the noise of the wheels, and the motion of the landing-place or draw-bridge, he had not the presence of mind to hold fast by the rings; so was forc’d to retreat, and was thrown against his will upon the steps of the arch. He perceiv’d his mistake even before the noise ceas’d; and as soon as he saw from the top of the steps, where he had kept his ground, that the door of the pedestal was open’d, he took his lyre, and, being resolv’d to die, comforted himself with the hopes of meeting his Eurydice. In the mean time he advanc’d slowly towards the sanctuary, singing verses fill’d with the names of the gods, and of Eurydice, and sung, in concert with his lyre, such just, such melodious, and such tender strains, that all the priests who surrounded him, were charm’d with it. After a short space he gave over singing, and fell on his knees, as if in expectation of his sentence. The high-priest, after having conferr’d a few moments with his companions, made him rise, and thus accosted him; Virtuous stranger, who can be no other than the renown’d Orpheus, we know by the piety of your verses, and the excellency of your talents, that you reverence the gods, and are dear to them. Our goddess is equitable; she considers what is due to your resolution in entring this abyss, and to the progress you have made in it without advice and without assistance: your judgment, indeed, fail’d you in the last of your trials; but she pardons this mistake, in consideration of the grief you labour under for your late loss. Your only consolation will be in that virtue, of which our goddess, by our means, will explain to you the true principles. But as an atonement for your fault, she expects, that after your initiation, you introduce her worship into Greece, your country, the fame of which has been long since known to us. Orpheus made no other answer to this discourse but by tears of gratitude and joy; the high-priest went through the ceremonies of that day with him, and admitted him to the exercises of those that follow’d.

It is not difficult to trace all the customs of the Egyptians in the Greek mythology, of which Orpheus was the principal author. We have elsewhere shewn what the obsequies for the dead had furnish’d him with. What he has taken from the initiation is something more disguis’d; but in the three trials of fire, water, and air, are plainly discover’d the three purifications the souls of men were to go thro’ before they return’d to life; which the greatest of the latin poets borrow’d from him, in the sixth book of his Æneid; Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni: not to omit the circumstance of suspension in the agitated air, or in the winds: Suspensæ ad ventos. The waters of forgetfulness, and the gate of ivory have their places there. Hercules returning with Alceste out of hell, and Theseus condemn’d to sit there for ever, are the two different symbols of those, who either pass’d thro’, or fail’d in their trials. But farther, Orpheus gave a symbolical or disguis’d history of his initiation: when connecting what had pass’d in his mind, with what actually happen’d to him at his last trial, he suppos’d, that he had infallibly brought Eurydice back again from hell, if he had not, contrary to the law prescrib’d him, look’d back before he recover’d the light of the day.

Even these allegories are nothing in comparison with the mysteries of Ceres, which he actually instituted at Eleusina, after the model of those of Isis; and which he divided into greater and lesser mysteries, in the same view as the greater and lesser initiations were distinguish’d in Egypt. The first was only bestow’d upon natives of the country; and the second only to foreigners. Both one and the other, as well at Eleusina as at Egypt, were oblig’d to a secrecy which had never been violated but at the expence of the life of him who reveal’d any of these mysteries, either by a formal sentence, or by other means, in whatever part of the world he might happen to be; and then they never fail’d of altering, at least in part, such of their practice as had been reveal’d. This is the reason why we know so little of the antient ceremonies. What I am acquainted with myself came to my knowledge only by means of some uncommon documents very difficult to be decypher’d; which, in the confusion of the wars, had been taken out of the archives where they were treasur’d up, and which the possessors of them very carefully conceal’d. And tho’ to this day initiations are in practice, both in Egypt and in Greece, they are not so rigid, nor are the mysteries to which they are introductory so secret. Persons of distinction are admitted without any probation. Even children are frequently consecrated to Isis, or to Ceres, which in the main are but one and the same goddess, without any condition, and merely by the devotion of their parents.

But to return to Sethos; the whole first day and night following were, as customary, allow’d him for rest. His table was serv’d in the same manner as at the palace; and instead of his ordinary domesticks, he was attended by a good number of officers of the second order; but he was not allow’d to stir out of his apartment all that day; and his confinement there would have been longer, if there had been any other candidate in the priests house before him; for then he must have waited till they had gone thro’ their exercises.

The next morning, some hours after sun-rise, the priests came to inform Sethos, that he must begin a fast of fourscore and one days in different degrees of austerity: During the whole time he was to drink nothing but water: In the first two months he was to eat as much bread as he pleas’d; and for his meals fruits, either raw or only dry’d in the sun. But this course of diet was more tolerable in Egypt than in any other country. The following twenty-one days were divided into two parts; the first twelve days he was to have as much bread as he wou’d, but only eight ounces of fruit every day; and the last nine days the fast was to be very severe, for he was to have only eighteen ounces of bread with water. During the seventy-two first days, he was to eat his meals alone, and at such hours as he liked best. He was to lie in a bed without curtains, on girths of Papyrus stretch’d tight, with only a bolster, and two sheets of linnen; of which the uppermost might be doubled into as many folds as he pleas’d. He was allow’d to lie but six hours, and at noon he might take an hour’s nap sitting. This was all that related to the purification of the body, or the first of the three parts of initiation. The two others were the purification of the mind, and the manifestation.

The purification of the mind consisted of two parts,⁠[56] invocation and instruction. The invocation was only assisting an hour every morning and evening at the sacrifices which were offer’d in sight of all the people, but the candidate was so plac’d that he could neither see them nor be seen. The instruction consisted of more particulars: The candidate was first of all acquainted, that it chiefly concern’d the duties incumbent on him in the condition of life he was in, and that his examination would be only on that head. Mean time the priests held every day two conferences on this account, at which he was oblig’d to be present. In the morning-conference one of them spent an hour in explaining the general principles of the Egyptian religion. He⁠[57] inculcated the notion of one only God, who by his knowledge conceiv’d the world, before he form’d it by his will. But to comply with the frailty of mankind, they were allow’d to adore the different attributes of his essence, and the different effects of his goodness, under the symbols of the stars, as the sun and the planets; of renown’d personages, as Osiris, Jupiter, Mercury; and even of terrestrial bodies, as animals and plants⁠[58]⁠. He added, that the subaltern deities were likewise spirits, whose ministry the supreme God thought expedient to employ in the government of the universe. He did not forget that spirit, who was the tempter of men, and the disturber of nature, represented by Typhon, by the evil genius’s, and by pernicious animals and poisonous plants. From thence he proceeded to explain the ceremonies they put in practice to win the favour of the beneficent deities, or to avert the anger of the mischievous. The Egyptians by this confus’d idea of unity in the divine being, and of multiplicity in his symbols, are the first authors of what has been the most sublime in philosophical opinions, and the most gross in popular superstitions. Besides this, the physical and historical origins of the denominations of these secondary deities, and of the varieties of the worship paid to them, were expounded in a manner so learned and so curious, that Sethos sometimes envy’d these men, who being freed from all the incumbrances of life, could devote themselves wholly to such satisfactory enquiries.

The evening conference lasted an hour and half. The only subject was morality. One of the priests began, by laying down general maxims of it, which he afterwards apply’d to such cases or instances as best suited the circumstances of the candidate. Then other priests made objections; which were answer’d by the first. In these conferences the candidate was not allow’d to speak; but in the familiar conversations, which the priests held twice a day among themselves, he was free to speak his mind, not on religion but on morals; in which they endeavour’d to satisfy all his questions or objections. Besides which, all the priests, whose business it was to teach their divinity, were oblig’d to receive him into their closets whenever he came during the intervals of his exercises. This freedom, which he enjoy’d forty-two days, gave the candidate an opportunity of unfolding the most inward recesses of his mind, and even of relating such actions of his life, as he could suppose might tend to his honour: and the priests, on their parts, gave great attention to him, in order to discover his character and inclinations. For whereas in other schools, one single master was the instructor of many disciples, here the whole college of priests was employ’d to instruct one candidate. Their wives, who in compliment were stil’d priestesses, tho’ in Egypt they had no sacerdotal functions, at least in the superior temples, dwelt with them under the same roof: But the four stories of this house being double, the priest’s apartments look’d towards the gardens, and those of the priestesses forwards. Of these two sides, which were separated by a gallery, that destin’d for the women was call’d, likewise by favour, the sacerdotal palace; whereas the other side was only stil’d the priest’s house. The priestesses had the liberty of their husbands apartments, but not of their closets. They never went into the halls, or common offices of the house; but they had the freedom of the galleries, and of those passages alone which led to the galleries of the temple, and into the gardens. The candidate was forbid to speak to them, or so much as to salute them, where-ever he met them, though he generally knew them, and had seen them, perhaps, in the apartments of the king and queen, whither they went at certain hours, as other ladies did. By this the candidate was taught, that he must know how to deny himself sometimes those things which were lawful in themselves, tho’ within his reach. But that which will appear, without doubt, mortifying to well-bred gentlemen, these ladies, who were most of them of singular beauty, never pass’d by him without paying him their respect, and he was not suffer’d to make the least shew of a return. By this he was put to a trial of that fortitude with which every virtuous man ought to resist the charms of the sex when they appear in competition with his duty.

On the evening of the forty-second day, the candidate was inform’d, that the next day he must commence a silence of eighteen days complete; during which he must not utter one single word, nor even make any sign to express his thoughts, on any account whatsoever; only in case of illness, he might demonstrate it by laying his hand to his heart: but if he did not give this sign, such of the priests as were physicians, could easily perceive it; and in this case, all his exercises were suspended, and he was look’d after with a great deal of care: But after his recovery, whatever day of the three months the purification of his mind was interrupted, he was oblig’d to begin again. The candidate was offer’d at the same time a certain number of proper books, tables to write on, and a stylus or iron pen to write with, if he had not thought to ask for them before. But Sethos had this foresight the very second day of his retirement. He conceiv’d, that the frequent visits he was allow’d to make to the priests, and the questions he might be continually asking them, would not conduce so much to his instruction, as recollection and reading. He had already copy’d all that he was able to remember of their moral conferences, and had endeavour’d, by meditation, to go back to the grounds of every particular question. By this means his mind was stor’d beforehand with all the answers which he heard given by the priest, who held the conference, to all the questions and objections started to him by the others: And in, their private conversations, they all admir’d the accuracy and modesty of his decisions. But these conversations were now to be suspended: His other exercises remain’d the same, and the two conferences were continu’d during the whole eighteen days. However, he was not call’d to these exercises as before, but was oblig’d to repair punctually thither at the common signal. In a word, he had no other notice given him, but by being awak’d mornings and afternoons. He had the liberty of the gardens, but he was not to take notice of any person, either man or woman; so that he was all alone as it were, in the midst of a house full of people. On the other hand, nobody, either man or woman, seem’d to take any notice of him; nor was any manner of attendance given him, excepting that his food was brought once a day into his apartments when he was absent. The priest, who inform’d him of this new regulation, acquainted him, that he was enjoin’d to the most rigid observance of it: that they excused some small inadvertencies which he had been guilty of during the forty-two preceding days; but that the least violation of the rules now prescrib’d him would forfeit his liberty for the remainder of his life. Upon this the priest, without staying for any answer from Sethos, led away Amedes, who not having quitted this young prince hitherto, left him, as it may be imagin’d, overwhelm’d with grief. It was not that they ever design’d to put their threats in execution, but they did it to put the candidates to a trial under this situation of mind, in order to give them an opportunity of exerting their courage; for they wink’d at any small failures in those whom they judg’d worthy of the initiation in other respects.

Nothing could more sensibly affect Sethos than to be separated from his governour, whom he esteem’d as a father. The solitude he was now left in, which was but as a trial or exercise, made him reflect upon the real situation of his fortune, to which he had, properly speaking, as yet not open’d his eyes. He recall’d to his mind the loss of a mother, and the succession to the throne, with the loss of which he was threatned; and nature prevailing, either over the unsettledness of his youth, which he had hardly quitted, or over the heroick fortitude which was visibly growing up in him, he shed a torrent of tears. But considering at last the vanity and weakness of such a consolation, he arm’d himself with resolution and constancy, and had the courage to promise within himself, that, what ever state of life he might fall into, he would never seek comfort in tears, but would look upon virtue as a man’s only good and support.

The next morning, soon after he rose, he saw three priests with very austere countenances, enter his chamber. It was very shocking for the candidate to see these men, who before had shewn him all marks of friendship and complaisance, approach him with the appearance of severe judges. They came to reproach him, not for the small faults he might have been guilty of since the commencement of his preparation, which were only failings for that time and place, but for the defective or vicious dispositions they had observ’d, either in his conversation or manners. But they did not stop there; for, as the resolution which is necessary in a person to expose himself to the trials of the initiation is hardly to be met with but in persons of note, the priests knew pretty well, either from their own intelligence, or publick fame, all their perfections or defects. Besides, as it was common for people to come for advice or prediction to the priests, whom they suppos’d to have a profound knowledge in futurity and hidden causes; they spared no diligence to get information under hand of all the secrets as well of princes as of private persons; to which, the industry of their wives, and the officers of the second order, who went abroad, did not a little contribute. And after a candidate was shut up amongst them, they employ’d their utmost care to gather all possible circumstances of his life. Thus they put him to a strange surprize, by recalling to his mind such of his past actions as might merit censure, and by reprimanding him in proportion to the heinousness of the case, without so much as allowing him to open his mouth: They even forbid him losing any time to justify himself in writing; but then they took all imaginable precaution not to lay any thing to his charge but what was strictly true. This vexatious exercise was shorter or longer every time, and was continued more or fewer days, according to the nature of the subject; and they insinuated to many, that they knew more than they would say. But, with respect to Sethos, whom the priests had nothing to reproach with, they only reprov’d him for the tears he had shed the foregoing evening, and which he suppos’d had been seen by none: They repeated to him the very same reflections he had made himself; after which they retir’d, and came no more.

Toward the evening of the last day of silence, the three priests came into the candidate’s apartment with a serene countenance. They told him, that one of the wholsomest instructions a wife man could receive, was that which he drew from his own faults. That he must not fail to correct and amend them; but that he ought not to conceive such a shame for them as might be discouraging and unprofitable. They added, that they had admitted guilty persons to the initiation, but that their history did not furnish a single example of the meanest of the Egyptian initiates, who after admission had abandon’d the paths of the noblest virtue. That he was going to be incorporated with a body of men, which merit alone had form’d, and which, tho’ it had no pre-eminence of itself, possess’d, however, the first place in the esteem of all men. They went so far as to tell him, that though initiation was but a participation of the priesthood, it was their birth made them priests; whereas initiates were chosen men, who only attain’d to that dignity by a merit that had been severely try’d. They then inform’d him, that beginning at the following day, in which he would be allow’d to resume the use of his speech, they would give him twelve days to recollect in writing, or in his memory, what he had learn’d in the conferences he had heard, or from his lectures; in order to prepare him to answer to three questions in morality, which they should propose to him at the expiration of this term. It was for this end that the conferences now ceas’d, that he might not be perplex’d with new subjects for application. That they would only hold one discourse a day, to spend their leisure time, and that it should be upon a subject a little differing from the former; to which he might only give such attention as he should judge proper. That his attendance at prayers and sacrifices should be no longer than his piety and inclination should direct. To conclude, that he should have the same liberty as before to converse with all the priests either in publick or private; and that he even might salute the priestesses, but he was desir’d however not to speak to them.

Sethos, who had before made great advances, as well in virtue as knowledge, had gain’d extraordinary advantage during his retreat and silence with regard to both these views: so that at the beginning of this third month, he seem’d, in some measure, to be equal to the priests; and from thenceforth they behav’d to him as great men are wont to do to one another. He had so much resolution and presence of mind the first day not to ask again for Amedes, who was out of sight; and the priests, who did not suspect him of indifferency, perceiv’d he was ready himself to meet every trial they were willing to subject his mind to. However, he was restor’d to him the same evening: But the politeness, which was natural to him, having prompted him to take advantage of the freedom which was allow’d him with respect to the priestesses, he was not a little surpriz’d, that the first time he saluted two or three of them, whom he met together in a walk of the garden, they did not return him the compliment. He was, in some measure, asham’d that he had not presuppos’d some such reserve in a place like that: and turning this trifle to advantage, he imagin’d they would thereby inure him to comply with the customs of every place, tho’ never so singular or trivial.

The discourses or conferences of the two preceding months had been held by priests of the greatest ability and experience in the subjects they had treated. But if in the whole class of sacred literature there was one man superior in genius and eloquence: it was he who was employ’d to hold the twelve last discourses at the beginning of this last month. For his general subject he chose the GENIUS OF A TRUE INITIATE. An initiate, said he, is a new man, in whom the love of virtue and his duty has taken place of all those passions which were before the motives of all his actions. In every juncture, what he will do is infallibly visible in what he ought to do. Life is of no account to him. It is neither example, nor opportunity, nor a transitory passion which engages him to expose it. These circumstances are necessary to the man of passion: but the man of principle, such as an initiate, holds, as it were, his life in his hand; and if he has not put it to stake, it is because his duty has not yet requir’d it. Glory is generally inseparable from those eminent virtues which we see practis’d by initiates; but ’tis neither their motive nor their aim. It is requisite to preserve the idea and name of glory among men, especially with respect to those who, being high born, are seldom animated by any other sensible interest. But in the main, glory is a spur only to the weak, and to novices. The motive of an initiate is the voice of his duty, and his aim the discharge of it. From hence it comes, said he, that many of our initiates had rather do private services to their prince or country in obscurity, than be distinguish’d by the most shining dignities. Ambition has prompted most candidates to submit to the trials of the body; but the trials of the mind have eradicated that ambition. In whatever rank an initiate finds himself plac’d, either by his birth or fortune, he believes himself to be establish’d in it for no other end, but for the benefit of his country, and even, if possible, for the whole race of mankind. So consequently, this man, not being to be biass’d by any desire, or any fear of his own, is taken up with all the desires, and all the fears of those whom he is to make happy, as their master, or to serve, as their fellow-citizen. On this occasion he alledg’d the several great things, which the first heroes of Egypt, who instituted the worship of the gods, and the initiation, had done for the world; the security, happiness and glory which they had at first procur’d for Egypt itself: But, added he, their magnanimous valour not being to be confin’d within bounds so streight, they carry’d their profitable arts to nations as uncultivated as their lands; they purg’d the country of robbers, and the seas of pyrates; or they transform’d them into a civiliz’d people by the laws they subjected them to, the sciences they taught them, and above all, by the heroick virtues of which they set them examples: It is to them, in short, the world owes that form we now see it in. He afterwards mention’d the names of the most famous initiates of the following ages, and related those passages of their lives, which were as affecting by the singularity of the incidents, as the generosity of their actions. He finish’d his relation of these wonders by saying, that the soul of an initiate, that soul so couragious and so sublime, was humble, gentle, and indulgent. This man, who centers all the virtues in himself, esteems, and praises the least footsteps of them which appear in others. He places them above him, who despair ever to come up to him. He can witness for the sincerity of his intention, but he mistrusts his own thoughts and his views. He perceives he is uncapable of committing an injustice or a crime; but he acknowledges himself liable to all the frailties of nature. Tho’ always upon his guard against faults, he is ever ready to acknowledge the commission of them. He is, in short, a man without blemish, who is always studying to amend; and a perfect man, who is ever striving to make himself more perfect.

This picture of an initiate, of which I have here given but a faint sketch, transported Sethos’s admiration. He said to Amedes, Father, how came it to pass that the priests spoke so indifferently of these last discourses, which I just now heard; that was, no doubt, one of their nicest trials, to see whether I had a taste for virtue; whether the splendor of it would attract my notice; and whether I should be sensible of its charms? Oh! it is now I begin to live; ’tis only the true initiate, the virtuous man, knows the sublimity of his being; he alone enjoys his mind; those who set their hearts upon other objects, are not worthy to be call’d men. These last discourses are so far from being of little moment, as the priests seem’d to insinuate, that they will enable me to answer all the questions they may put to me. I shall talk from the fountain-head; and all I have to do for the future, will be to conform the rest of my life to my answers. But, father, continu’d he, I must have been strangely blind hitherto, not to perceive in you those sublime virtues, of which I have now so glorious an idea. It was, without doubt, that humility and indulgence wherein partly consists the character of a true initiate, that have conceal’d you from my sight. The king, my grandfather, and the queen, my mother, saw you thro’ this veil, when they singled you out for their counsellor and their minister. Son, answer’d Amedes, it is sufficient for me if it be true that I have not dishonour’d the title I bear of an initiate; but it is for another man to give true lustre to it: The greatness of your birth imposes laws on you of a larger extent; but then it furnishes you with greater powers for the practice of eminent virtues, and actions of generosity. I was sensible of my incapacity to educate a prince like you, and therefore I immediately borrow’d the assistance of all the schools of Memphis, to teach you the sciences under masters more able than myself; and I have endeavour’d to add to the vigilance with which a governour ought to attend a private education, that emulation which is rarely seen in a pupil, unless in a publick one. But the sciences are nothing in comparison to virtue. Who could better instruct you in that than those men, who have attain’d a consummate knowledge of all laws divine and human? Common fame gives some small advantage in other particulars to certain priests of Egypt above those of Memphis; but, at the same time, allows the preference to these in the knowledge of morality. What more proper time could they take to discourse to you of virtue in the most sublime manner, than while you are preparing for the initiation? This privilege, which has been coveted by the greatest men, and which, in their esteem, crowns a long series of wonderful actions, is become a part of your education, and of consequence, my son, is an engagement to you to begin where they left off.

The day after these twelve days, the high-priest, follow’d by several others, came into Sethos’s apartment the moment after he was risen, and said to him, Son, I come to propose the three questions to you, which you must give answer to in nine days. All our instructions said he, and even your reading will be laid aside for that time: We suspend even our common conversations, and you are not allow’d to speak to any of us in particular till the expiration of that term. It is from the gods alone you must henceforth intreat that knowledge you may stand in need of. For these nine days you shall lie in the sanctuary behind the statues of the three deities, that the goddess Isis may, if she please, instruct you even in your dreams. We shall every morning, when you awake, and before the gates of the temple are open’d to the people, offer a sacrifice to her, and invoke her to pour her wisdom into your soul. You may spend as much time in the temple as you shall think convenient; and in our gardens you may meditate upon your answers. In the mean time, to alleviate your solitude in some measure, you will be sent for twice every day to our table; but you must observe a profound silence, and keep up strictly to the austerity which was at first prescrib’d you for these nine days; during which, you must fast with bread and water. Give now attention to the three questions I have to propose to you: What is the principal virtue of a hero? Does heroism consist in exceeding the bounds of duty? Is it heroick to sacrifice even one’s honour to the interest of our country, or the general good of mankind? The high-priest, having twice more distinctly repeated these three questions, retir’d with the priests that were in his company.

Sethos being now the second time left alone, the first thing that he did, was to write down the three questions propos’d to him, that he might not forget them. The first reflection he made, after considering them in general, was, that the priests, who, from the first day of his coming thither, had inform’d him, that their instructions, and his examination would turn chiefly upon his condition; had discoursed very little to him upon the duties of a king in particular, and had made no manner of mention of them in their questions. He concluded from thence, that they at least foresaw he would never attain to the royal dignity, and that all he was to expect was, to be a hero: After having utter’d some sighs for his misfortune, and the frailty of his father, he resolv’d to submit to the destiny the gods had prepar’d for him, and promis’d, with their assistance, to conform himself to it.

Going out of his apartment towards the temple, he perceiv’d there was a profound silence throughout the whole house. And, indeed, during these nine days, the priests, and all that inhabited this vast mansion, took care not to talk in his presence; and in his absence they only whisper’d, and that but upon emergent occasions: At other times the priest and priestesses walk’d, and discours’d together at different hours in the garden. But during these nine days, Sethos never saw any body there but the priests, who by turns watch’d the Ox Apis that graz’d in the park, which was in the middle of it. The women from the city came to the priestesses, or to the sacerdotal palace by the street-way, but the priestesses never open’d the gallery-doors to them. These doors were even shut to the priestesses themselves during the nine days, and they had no manner of communication with the inward part of the house, tho’ their husbands were always allow’d to go to them. Both men and women, that had any business with the priests, were not at any time admitted farther than the outward halls: so that no alteration being made without, it was never known in the city when there was a candidate with the priests: and this, as well as the other secrets of the house, was kept as inviolably by their wives, and the officers of the second order, as by themselves.

Sethos was not a little surpriz’d upon being led into the common refectory, to find the priests table no better serv’d than his; and that confining themselves, on his account, to the same fast which they had enjoin’d him, they had at each of their two meals no greater allowance than himself, viz. nine ounces of bread and a little water. He thence concluded, that the priests regarded the justness of his answers as a matter of very great importance; and that requir’d his deepest reflection. However, as those who aspir’d to the initiation, some of whom were officers of war, had not all the gift of elocution, nor were all capable of giving an advantageous turn to their thoughts, a fault in expression was no hinderance to them, it being by no means a trial of wit or eloquence which they pretended to put them to: all the candidate had to do, was to manifest that he possess’d an upright beneficent heart, purg’d from that errour, which is but too common in those who knowing their power, think their grandeur consists in setting themselves above all rule, and being fear’d by other men. It is true, when such persons did come under their hands, who were prompted to aspire to the initiation by no other motives but temerity or ambition, or who seem’d incorrigible; they took pleasure in ridding the world of them, by sending them to exercise their valour and cunning in their subterraneous mansions. Many of those conquerors and politicians so famed in our histories would have been bury’d alive here. However, such examples were very rare. They must have been very ignorant, who, before they attempted the probation, did not know that the character of an initiate was a compound of all the virtues. And if they did not know it before, must have been very untractable not to reform their judgments and manners by all the instructions and reproofs bestow’d upon them during the course of the purification of their minds. It was next to an impossibility for an initiate, after being confirm’d, to degenerate from his profession. There is no emulation among men more powerful than that of keeping up the honour of a small society into which we are admitted by merit and virtue. This emulation was, perhaps, not so efficacious in foreign initiates; because not having the example of their brethren before their eyes, they might forget their engagements: But as they were only made partakers of the second or particular initiation, they were not entirely of the same order with the Egyptian initiates, and the honour of their society was not dependent on them.

Sethos had already spent five whole days in meditating upon his answers; when notice was brought to the high-priest, that there was at the gate of the temple a young Carthaginian, who seem’d by his air and attendants, to be a person of the highest distinction. He publickly declared, he had been doom’d by the senate of his city to repair to Memphis, to seek atonement for the death of his brother, whom he had had the misfortune to kill in a battle.

BOOK IV.

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

About twenty years before, a Tyrian, by name Zoros, of the offspring of Cadmus, a man of valour and knowledge, had laid the foundation of the city of Carthage, or at least had enlarg’d the bounds of Carthada. In his frequent voyages to establish a trade on all the coasts of the Mediterranean, he had found no place for a settlement so convenient as this little city, built upon that agreeable shore, which has ever since been call’d, The sojourn of the nymphs. He at last resolv’d to settle at Carthada, and to inlarge it. To this end he carry’d all his vessels thither, laden with immense riches. He was receiv’d with joy by the inhabitants, who were not yet arriv’d to that pitch of opulency they soon after attain’d to by his assiduity. He enlarg’d and embellish’d it to such a degree, that it was hardly known to be the same; and he preserv’d its ancient name, only adding to it a Phœnician termination. The memory of Cadmus, from whom Zoros was descended, and whose virtues he pursu’d, made him valu’d, not only by the citizens of Carthage, but of all those cities which were built by this hero 200 years before, in the neighbourhood of it; and with which the country call’d Zeugitania was fill’d. Thus Zoros, in a very short time, form’d a considerable state: but to render his growing authority more acceptable, he chose to give his government the form of an aristocracy. He instituted a senate compos’d of ten citizens of Carthage, and of two of every other city, and for himself he only retain’d the title of prince of the senate. This, according to my memoirs, is the true origin of the city of Carthage, and conformable to the testimonies of Philistus, Appianus of Alexandria, and some others of our authors, put together; for the history of Dido is posterior to this epoch by some hundreds of years; and it is besides certain, that this fugitive princess only built the citadel of Byrsa, as an addition to this city, which was long before founded.

The high-priest would immediately have known the name of the young Carthaginian, whose fame was already sufficiently spread, but he would declare it to none but to him in person, thinking thereby to insinuate himself into his esteem. He was not yet acquainted with the character of these inflexible men, who, in points of religion, were no respecters of persons. The high-priest sent to acquaint him, that he should not receive him in the temple, but he must present himself at the gate of their college. That, in the mean time, he might have forborn divulging himself an action which demanded an atonement, and that these circumstances ought to have been reveal’d to the priests alone. The Carthaginian, who was more asham’d of this reprimand than of his odious exploit, in which he privately gloried, suffer’d himself to be led peaceably to the gate appointed. They made him come in alone, and told his attendants, they would hear no more of him till after three days. The high-priest, to whom he was introduc’d standing in the midst of his companions, without allowing him time to speak, told him; That before he made enquiry whether he had slain his brother spontaneously, or by accident; whether it was an actual assassination, or a murder committed under the pretext of the publick good, or his own defence; they all look’d upon the fatal occasion which had brought him to this unfortunate action (so repugnant to nature) as a great mark of the anger of the gods pour’d down upon him: That he wou’d be put three days under strict confinement, and wou’d be allow’d but what was barely necessary for his subsistance. According to the laws of Egypt, added he, not only he who kills, but he who does not, to the utmost of his power, defend a person that is attack’d, and in danger of being assassinated, is guilty of death. We don’t subject strangers to our laws, knowing, that with many, the punishment of homicide extends no farther than exile; and the favourable tribunal of atonement is not sanguinary even in Egypt. We endeavour to inspire a fear of the gods, and a terror of their judgments into those Egyptians who are brought before us only for accidents or involuntary misfortunes, and into those strangers who are often sent to us for their crimes; that as well one as the other may depart from hence more circumspect, and, if possible, more virtuous than the innocent themselves. However said he, to conclude, prepare to morrow to give a faithful account of your action in our full assembly. ’Till then, we will hear nothing concerning you. If your confession be then sincere, it will absolve you before the gods; but if, on the contrary, it is false or disguis’d, notwithstanding the exteriour expiation you will receive, you will carry away your eternal damnation.

The next morning the Carthaginian was sent for out of his prison, and brought as a criminal, cloath’d in sackcloth, into a great oval hall. The high-priest was seated at the upper end, and all the other priests on each side of him on seats something lower than his, as at the tribunal of the labyrinth. Initiates were allow’d to assist at these courts: so Amedes and Orpheus were present at this: they were plac’d below all the priests, and young Sethos sate without the row, and below the initiates. As it was the trial of a foreigner, who could not know him, and as his exercises were so far advanc’d, they thought it might be of advantage to him to hear judgment pronounc’d in a cause, which appear’d to be of importance and singular. The Carthaginian standing, and bare-headed, thus address’d himself to the court in the Egyptian tongue, of which he was perfectly master.

Venerable chief of this sacred college, and you the priests of the great goddess Isis; you see here before you Saphon, the son of the renowned Zoros, founder of Carthage, the establisher and prince of his senate. Tho’ my brother Giscon⁠[59] and I were twins, the prerogative of elder brother has never been disputed me. However, my father, who begins to advance in years, having purpos’d to settle the succession, during his own life, call’d my right in question, and annex’d to the glory of filling his place on the throne, a condition, which he offer’d my brother equal with me. The condition was, that which ever of us should, within the course of three years, perform the most heroick action, should be declar’d his successor, by him and by the senate. I won’t attribute this thought of my father’s to an unjust prædilection in favour of my brother, tho’ my friends had before warn’d me of it: I rather choose to believe, that, enjoying the benefit of many victories I had gain’d for him; and considering, that by the success of my arms I had added all Numidia to his dominions, he did not question but I should carry the prize before my brother; and that so, adding the right of merit to that of my birth, I might thereby obtain a greater influence over the people I was to govern after his death. I don’t pretend by this discourse to insinuate that my brother wanted valour. However, he not only had never attempted to inlarge the new empire of Carthage, which he might have done on the other side; but he even never assisted me in my expeditions. Since we have been both of age to bear arms, his only exploits have been to repulse the Barbarians, who made frequent incursions into our southern provinces upon which they border’d, and who sometimes advanc’d to the very gates of Carthage. But to do justice to his vigilance and patience, ’tis certain he never had the opportunity of attacking and defeating more at once than parties of forty or fifty of these rovers: so that all these skirmishes join’d together, were in no measure to be compar’d to the glory and advantage of three or four victories I had obtain’d, and which began to make our empire one of the most powerful hitherto known. This was the state of affairs when my father made us both the proposal I have mention’d, in the assembled senate. I immediately concluded, that heroick actions were alone to be sought in war; and being persuaded that the principal virtue of a hero is valour, I prepar’d to fulfil the condition prescrib’d, by taking arms, and extending the conquests I had already begun.

Towards the conclusion of the two first years I had advanc’d beyond Numidia, and conquer’d all Mauritania Sitifensis, so call’d from its metropolis Sitifi, which I had taken after a long siege. I propos’d to carry my arms to the foot of mount Atlas; and sparing none but the sacred country of the Hesperides, I did not despair of reaching the banks of the ocean in the course of the third year. But my designs were interrupted by an unexpected and surprizing account I receiv’d from Carthage, which oblig’d me to return thither. My brother disappear’d the very day after the proposal made by my father; and I concluded from that time, that he had given up all pretension: But I was inform’d at Sitifi, that he was gone over to those rambling nations who before us’d to invade our territories, and whom he himself had so often drove from our frontiers. I was inform’d he spent the two first years of his absence in going, with innumerable hazards and fatigues, either to their caves, which were many miles distant one from the other; or to their tents, which were frequently remov’d: That, by force of reiterated invitations and remonstrances, he had at last prevail’d upon them to unite, and to form a civiliz’d nation, to build cities at proper distances for their common conveniency, and to lay the foundation of a metropolis for the center of their dominions. We soon got intelligence, that, on the other side of the mountains, which we look upon as our borders to the southward, all diligence was imploy’d in raising the walls of the city of Capsa, situate on a river which empties itself into the sea over-against the little Syrtes. Thus these people, who before were known by no other name than that of their unhappy profession, rovers, affected now to be call’d Capsans, and demanded respect from their neighbours, and even from us. We must allow, that being now taken up with their settlement, they had for some time forbore their irruptions into our territories: But you will easily conceive, O! ye wise priests of Memphis, what an uneasiness an empire thus rising up in the neighbourhood of our own, must cause us. I therefore thought it for my honour, and a duty incumbent on me, as well as for the interest of Carthage, to oppose the rise of this state. I prepar’d therefore to fall upon them in their forts, which were not yet finish’d, before their militia or even their republick could be regulated. As I had already a large army, I was presently in a readiness to march. As soon as my brother had notice of it, he sent heralds to meet me; who, however, call’d themselves deputies from the Capsans, and not from him. They declar’d, that they had no intention of living in enmity with the Carthaginians; that their whole design was to form a republick like ours; with this difference, that the inferiority of their numbers depriv’d them of all thoughts of acting upon the offensive: that they had begun to build forts and strong holds, and should finish them, only to defend themselves against their neighbours, if they should be so unjust to oppose their establishment. I answer’d them, It was enough for me to look on them as enemies, and even as criminals, that their chief was a son of the founder of Carthage, who, instead of acting in conjunction with his brother for the glory of his nation, destroy’d the hopes he had of making it one day the head of all the inhabited Africa, by erecting a republick in rivalship to his own; and who, if he was suffer’d to go on, would for ever set bounds to the Carthaginian empire towards the south. They reply’d, they had, indeed, follow’d the counsels of my brother, in forming themselves into a sociable and reasonable people, with whom we might enter into an alliance, and who would be our shelter against the incursions of the Garamantes and other barbarous nations less civiliz’d than they had been. And farther, that my brother had accepted of no command amongst them; and that in case of a battle, it was with them alone I should engage. As my motive to this expedition was state-policy, which would not allow the delay of a negociation; and besides, as my whole aim was the performance of heroick actions, I told them, in a word, I would give them my final answer in battle.

I therefore follow’d the heralds in their footsteps; and tho’ I led a whole army, they had enough to do to be more expeditious than I was. I intended to have pass’d the mountains, and have met them at the foot of the walls of Capsa: But as soon as the Capsans had receiv’d my answer, they prevented me, by crossing these mountains themselves, and thereby gain’d the advantage of fighting only on our territories. I was surpriz’d to discover, from the eminency of a little hill at some distance from them, an army that seem’d to be of about 40000 men, who had the mountains on their rear, thro’ the passages of which they might easily be supply’d with fresh troops. However, as my army consisted of 100000 men, I thought my self in a condition to attack them. I halted a day and a night behind the hill which cover’d us, knowing, that as soon as I came in sight, I must engage. The enemy, on their side, as if they were as much inclin’d as I to end the quarrel by a battle, had left a large plain before them, whither I led my troops in battle-array: They even gave them time to post themselves, designing, without doubt, to engage them all at once. But then attacking us in front, and on both sides, they added to the order and resolution of disciplin’d soldiers, as they actually now were, the cunning they practis’d in former times, of giving the onset, and then immediately retiring. The battle, which began before noon, had already lasted full five hours, and we began to lose, by far, more men than they: I therefore resolv’d to make directly up to my brother, whom I had long known by his Carthaginian armour, and the motions he gave himself in the army he commanded; though, for shame, as I presum’d, of being in arms against his own Father, and of staining himself with the blood of his own country-men, he never lifted up the visor of his helmet. Notwithstanding his activity, which carry’d him to every part of the battle where he thought his presence necessary, I soon came up to him. Traiterous son and brother (said I, accosting him) let the death of one of us put an end to this battle, too bloody for thy country. Without answering me, he with his sword put by the blow I had aim’d at the bottom of his helmet: But as he turn’d about to go away, I thrust mine to the hilt under his armour; and in the same instant he fell dead at his horse’s feet. This blow chang’d the face of the battle: The Capsans retir’d in good order thro’ the passages of their mountains, and we remain’d masters of the field of battle. However, as I perceiv’d they put themselves in a posture to dispute the passage, and that my army, which was diminish’d 30000 men, was weary’d and disheartned, I retir’d, and for this time abandon’d the design I had of razing the walls of Capsa; so my brother’s fatal enterprize yet subsists, notwithstanding the defeat of the Capsans, and his death.

As soon as we return’d to Carthage, my father let me know, that the first time he saw me should be in the senate: He there, in my presence, declar’d to the whole body assembled, that the affliction he could not forbear labouring under for the death of my brother, notwithstanding his infidelity, to which he always gave the name of evident, had depriv’d him of that freedom of mind which was necessary to form a sound and upright judgment, with respect to me; and that therefore he referr’d it wholly to them. After a long deliberation, during which I retir’d, I was call’d in again; and the eldest senator, speaking in the name of the rest, said, That the senate, judging only by the exterior of things, and willing to prevent the danger of so ambiguous an example as that of my brother, was about to condemn his memory, tho’ with regret, as having been slain in arms against his father and his country; That in relation to me, without any decision on the condition prescrib’d, and annulling the proposal which had been made us, since my brother being dead, and I alone, it was now become unnecessary, they confirm’d to me, even with the consent of my father, the succession to the principality of the senate, to which I had before a natural right by a moment of primogeniture; but that to avert from me the anger of the gods, who alone know the grounds of things, and as a reparation of the prejudice that might be conceiv’d against me of having, under an honourable pretext, rid my self of a dangerous competitor, I should repair to the priests of Memphis, the most renown’d of all Egypt for their knowledge in religion and morality, and humbly supplicate the atonement of my crime from them: This, O venerable chief, and ye most sacred priests, is a faithful relation of my case, and the cause which brings me before your tribunal; I intreat you will add to the expiation I desire for what is past, your wise instruction for my future conduct.

As soon as the Carthaginian had finish’d his discourse, the high-priest made him sit down on a stool which was plac’d behind him, and spoke as follows: Saphon, Son of Zoros, we have long since had a very great value for your father, the pacifick founder of Carthage, whose exploits have always tended to the good of mankind. All the judgments of your senate, which have come to our knowledge, have given us a great idea of their wisdom. We honour’d the virtue of your brother, before the last battle, which you have related to us, and of which we had before no particular account. With respect to you, we perceive, by your discourse, and we knew before by your fame, that you are a great warriour; but your principles are not conformable to ours. We have here a pupil, whom I will order to speak, and you shall learn from the mouth of a beginner, how much the instructions of our goddess are superior to those confus’d and tumultuous ideas of the greater part of mankind; and especially of those who give themselves up to the blind passion of war. The high-priest immediately call’d Sethos; who approach’d him with great marks of surprize, modesty and obedience. He plac’d him standing opposite to the Carthaginian, and order’d him to give such answer to the discourse he had heard as the goddess should inspire him. The high-priest look’d upon it as a happy rencounter, that there appear’d some heroick actions in the history of Saphon and Giscon; and he did not doubt but Sethos would in this discourse make use of what he had been five days in preparing, in answer to the three questions propos’d to him, viz. What is the principal virtue of a hero? Does heroism consist in exceeding the bounds of duty? Is it heroick for a man to sacrifice even his honour for the interest of his country, or the advantage of mankind? Before the young prince began, the high-priest told Saphon, That the birth of this young man alone would give him right to answer him; and besides that, they were all there present to lead him into the way of truth and justice, if he might happen to depart from it. It was upon this circumstance, to which Orpheus was witness, that he establish’d it as a rule in Greece, that the expiation might be given by those kings who were initiated to the mysteries of Eleusina; as Bellerophon went to receive it from Proetus, king of Argos, not to mention many other examples. Young Sethos thus began his discourse:

Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians, vouchsafe to guide my tongue, and suffer me not to utter any thing that may be unworthy of the instructions your sacred ministers have given me in your name. In my opinion, Saphon, you did not rightly take the sense of the proposal made you, when you believ’d that the heroick action requir’d of you, consisted in assaulting your neighbours, and subduing them without distinction. I don’t hint at the conquest you made of Sitifi after the condition prescrib’d, because as you have not said for what reason you took arms against that people, your relation (to which alone I ought to confine myself) don’t furnish me wherewithal to judge whether your conquest was good or evil. I am, however, persuaded, that if you assaulted it for no other reason, but to gain the glory of having done an heroick action, that very intention has made you fail of it; because an heroick action cannot have the glory of him that does it for its object and aim, but must necessarily have in view the interest and advantage of others. You have given a long account of the motive which led you against the Capsans; and your relation of it alone, in my opinion, is sufficient to shew the injustice of your cause, which sets you at yet a greater distance from heroism; because an heroick action proceeding from a principle of virtue, it is impossible that virtue should subsist with injustice. In reality, you have yourself refuted the pretext of the danger of a republick being erected adjoyning to you, when you allow, that the Capsans, being busied in their settlement, had forbore their inroads into your dominions. These incursions are dangers which those states that are too near the savages can hardly ever free themselves from; because these people never forming themselves into great bodies, it is impossible utterly to root them out; and, slipping by without being perceiv’d, they find passages by the sides of those fortresses and walls, which stop whole armies. Thus your opposing, on account of a very distant danger, the rise of a republick, which, by the narrow bounds of its territories, in comparison of the extent of your empire, could not cause you any apprehension; which, besides, offer’d you its friendship and alliance, and which itself defends you from other more dangerous barbarians, would have brought your country into a present and continual evil, to obtain the honour of a victory profitable to you alone: An example which has been but too often given by those warlike princes, who have sacrific’d not only foreign and innocent nations, but the estates and lives of their own subjects, to their particular fame. You was, I think, yet more in the wrong, by alledging to the Capsan heralds the hopes your nation had conceiv’d of overcoming all the habitable lands of Africa: For, besides that your country has no more right than you to make unjust conquests, the dominions of the Capsans themselves became habitable only by the care they had taken to cultivate their grounds, and to separate them by cities, since they were become a civiliz’d people. So that by attempting to destroy them, it was not your fault, if your country did not remain surrounded, as it had been before, either by dens of thieves or frightful desarts: and you have imitated, at least on this occasion, those conquerors, who, in all appearance, would reduce the whole world into one vast desart.

The beginning of all these errors has been the false idea you have conceiv’d of the character of a hero, when you imagin’d his chief virtue was valour; whereas valour itself is rather a natural and advantageous disposition of the mind and body, than a virtue. We may make, as of several other the like qualities, a good or bad use of it. It is often found in wicked men; and has sometimes made those men bad, who without it would have been good. Valour can alone become laudable and honourable when it is employ’d and directed by a superior virtue. This virtue, in a subject or citizen, is the love of his prince and his country, guided by his obedience alone. In a prince, or the head of a republick, it is the love of his people, heighten’d by the justice he observes with regard even to his neighbours and his enemies. In the hero, to conclude, it is the love of mankind in general, or humanity guided by a zeal founded upon a lively hope of the protection of the gods. So it is this courageous humanity, this zealous love for mankind, which is the chief virtue of a hero. True courage, which, taken in general, is agreeable to every condition, and even to both sexes; but which, apply’d to war, is call’d valour, consists always in facing every danger in the pursuit of our duty. It is this only view of our duty which distinguishes true and virtuous valour from blind fury and unjust violence, and which renders heroism itself reasonable. But I have been taught that there are two sorts of duty: one of condition, and the other of inspiration: The duty of condition regards those, who being necessary to their country or families, or who even mistrusting their capacity, wisely confine themselves to perform the common obligations of their condition, preferable in most men to all other. The duty of inspiration is only proper to those whom the gods seem to have singled out of the common order of men, to lead them to works more sublime in themselves, and of more advantage either to their country, or to mankind: and this last duty, generally pointed out by the singular junctures into which providence puts some men, becomes the duty of a hero. To perform it, requires a valour exalted above that of vulgar conquerors; and thus we see that the true hero or benefactor of mankind has always been esteem’d the most courageous of men. A heart thus inspir’d, a man indued with this genuine heroism, runs no hazard of stopping in the midst of his course; nothing is dangerous to him, but going beyond the bounds of his duty; and his whole attention is to resist every motion of an extravagant valour or magnanimity; that is, which would only tend to his own glory, without turning to the advantage of other men, to whom he has devoted his labours and his life. He knows that sublime virtue is approv’d, not by works of supererogation, but by an entire and perfect accomplishment of those which his duty requires of him. This duty is as extensive as the publick good; but then the publick good gives bounds to it, which he will never go beyond. In short, the hero, far from hunting after vain-glory, exposes himself, for the service of his country, or mankind, to the capricious constructions and unjust judgments of those very men he is serving. Uncapable of committing a base action, under any pretext of advantage whatsoever, he never sacrifices that real honour which is inherent in him: but being stedfast in his undertakings, for the accomplishing of them, he readily sacrifices that seeming honour which depends upon the transitory opinion of envious or misinform’d persons. By these signs, Saphon, the true hero, has been distinguish’d; and by his example we ought to learn, that those actions which make the least shew, are not always the least heroick.

As soon as Sethos had finish’d this discourse, he turn’d about towards the high-priest, who gave him a sign to return to his seat, and then address’d himself to the Carthaginian in the following terms: Saphon, said he, the same spirit which inspires all the servants of our goddess, has made this young man speak, as we ourselves would have spoken. The image he has given you of a hero agrees with that of Giscon, your brother, in the two first years of his expedition. And, indeed, in those enemies, who cost him so much labour while he defended your dominions from their inroads, he discover’d men who in that quality were worthy of his affection and tender regards; and, in serving his country, he imagin’d he might serve them too. According to your own testimony, he underwent all the labours and dangers which attended this duty of inspiration: and to perform it, he, from the beginning, expos’d himself to disadvantageous suspicions, which you yourself have countenanc’d, and through which your father and your senate alone have discover’d the truth. But we make a distinction between these times, and those in which, according to your relation, your brother march’d the Capsan troops into the dominions of Carthage. They had a right of advancing that length to oppose your attack, but he had no authority to lead them thither. This last circumstance is the more blameable in him, and especially in the battle with the Carthaginians, in which he commanded in person; as he thought it was contrary to his duty to accept of any dignity among the Capsans, and as, in all appearance, he had put them into a condition of defending themselves. But let me tell you, you ought to reproach yourself for the wrong he has done. Unjust proceedings often perplex virtue itself. Your brother’s death has been an atonement to the gods for him; and we shall concur with you to appease them in your favour.

However, notwithstanding the injustice of the motives which engag’d you in the Capsan war, and urg’d you to the murder of your brother; as both have been cover’d with the specious pretext of serving your country, your senate has wisely decreed you successor to your father. The title of heir to a crown, or other paternal dignities, do not require those refin’d virtues which are inseparable from a hero: and it is even for the advantage and ease of the publick, that successions be rather dependant on the order of birth, than on the difficult and often dangerous estimate of personal merit. Is seems even as if your brother yielded up that right of succession to you, which he knew he had no pretence to, by leaving Carthage to pursue his heroick design of civilizing a barbarous nation. It is your duty, Saphon, to govern your people according to the maxims you have here had a glimpse of, and rather as a just prince than a great commander. This last quality, which is glorious in a man of your age, who bears arms for the service of his father, is by far less suitable to the head of a great republick, who has actually taken upon him the care of his people, and the maintenance of their laws. We are not so unjust, as not to set a value upon your skill in the art of war; nor do we condemn all your victories. We know that the Nomades, before you conquer’d their country, were as unciviliz’d as the Capsans before your brother’s expedition. We even know, that you was careful to preserve the fertile meadows of Numidia; and that your father, to this day, treats that country as one of his most faithful provinces. To conquer nations, who are destitute of master and laws, in order to make them more happy and more polite than they were before, is allowable. It is even blameless to subdue people who have a chief, and are subjected to laws, when they are unjust and irreconcileable enemies to your country, as we have been inform’d the inhabitants of the Mauritania Sitifensis, which you have very justly brought under your yoke, were, with regard to Carthage. All you have hitherto been wanting in, has been to know the true maxims of morality, and how to guide your valour, and the other noble qualities the gods have endued you with. For want of this knowledge and uprightness of intention, it has happen’d, that either your actions have been unjust, or even those actions which have been good in themselves, have not been acceptable in the eyes of the gods. We shall here put an end to the instructions you yourself have desired. Reflect on them in silence the remainder of this day. Tomorrow you shall pass thro’ the corporal expiation; and the next day we shall offer the expiatory sacrifice. The Carthaginian would have offer’d something in his own defence; but the officers of the second order, who had the care of his person, and who led him away, inform’d him, that he was not allow’d to reply; and that, besides, it would be superfluous before a tribunal of mediation and grace. As soon as he was retir’d, the high-priest ask’d all his companions, if they did not think Sethos had in his discourse fully answer’d the three questions which had been propos’d to him six days before. They all reply’d, he had sufficiently resolv’d them; and that, on occasion of the history of the Carthaginian and his brother, he had made his answer as extensive and as precise as could be requir’d of him. If so, said the high-priest, we will finish the nine days fast, and invoke the gods, that they will eternally imprint in the mind of this young prince, those maxims which they themselves have inspir’d him with: And I believe we may likewise dispense our house from that silence which they must otherwise have kept three days longer in favour of any other candidate who had not finish’d so soon as this. This silence would even be difficult to keep amidst all the ceremonies of atonement for the Carthaginian. I believe we may admit Sethos to them, because, by the answers he has given, he has already merited the privilege of the manifestation. The priests were unanimously of the same opinion.

The next morning at break of day, the priests of the expiation, attended by several officers of the second order, went to fetch the Carthaginian out of his prison; in which was a door that open’d to the subterranean canal, which the candidates must pass in their trials for the initiation. This door was near the water-fall, above the bars through which the water enter’d into that canal. This door they open’d on the inside for him to go out. Both sides of the water were made light by means of torches, and discover’d to his eyes a frightful preparation of machines, and of people appointed to manage them. On the bank on his side stood a vessel of brass, fill’d with a thickish liquor; and close by the water, a piece of red-hot iron, of the length of the tallest man, and hollow’d out in its breadth, which was about three feet, so that it resembled a long and large pipe cut in half the length-ways: It was supported by iron-feet over a fire of coals, and one end of it was a little sloaping towards the water: An officer of the second order held the end of a rope of about the thickness of a little finger; which crossing the breadth of the canal, was wound round the concave circumference of a very large wheel on the other side: Thro’ the center of this wheel went an axle, to which were fasten’d two strong handles to turn it by, and several men stood ready by them to that end. Several priests, and some initiates, together with Sethos and Orpheus, were seated, on the right and on the left, by the sides of the wheel. As intrepid as Saphon was, he could not forbear asking the chief priest of the expiation, the only priest that was with him, what was to be the nature of his punishment, that he might prepare for it? The priest answer’d him, that he had some reason to call the purifications he was going thro’, a punishment; but however, that if he could bear the simple agitations of his body, and above all, would not suffer himself to be overcome by a fear (which they ought not to suspect in him) he would come out of them as sound as he went in. They made him swallow some drops of a strengthening liquor; after which, they tuck’d up his hair under a cap of incombustible linnen: they next stript him stark-naked, and laid him upon a sheet on the ground, stretch’d out at length: There, he who held the cord ty’d his two wrists cross one another, and stretching out his arms to their full length, he bound his feet together with the same cord, leaving as much rope as was necessary to go from the wrists to the feet, without hurting the natural situation of his body. All this was done with a wonderful quickness and sleight of hand, and without giving him the least reason of complaint. In this condition six men lifted him up, and desiring him to close his mouth and eyes, plung’d him over head and ears into the brass vessel, which was fill’d with a dissolution of garlick, saffron, oil of worms, and other ingredients; which, when mix’d, had the infallible virtue of resisting the force of fire⁠[60]⁠. These officers took care, during the short time they held the patient plung’d in the vessel, to shift their hands continually, that every part of his body might be ting’d with the liquor. Immediately afterwards, they laid him on the bed of red-hot iron: and the property of the ointment was such, that it made the body slide rapidly from it, and fall in an instant into the water; where were officers naked, ready to receive him, that he might not strike against the banks which were shelving; and others plung’d in and follow’d him, that he might not touch the bottom. In the mean time, the wheel, to which the rope was fasten’d, turn’d round with a regular motion, to draw the patient over in such a space of time that he might not be suffocated by the water. He came out feet foremost; and being drawn to the wheel, with his head hanging downwards, he was fasten’d to it by leather straps under his armpits; and in this condition the wheel was turn’d three times quite round with him upon it. From this, Orpheus took his idea of the fable of Ixion. He was then loosen’d from the wheel; and being laid on a bed, was carry’d into an upper chamber, where the priests, who were physicians, gave him all sorts of restoratives that might be necessary for the relief of his body or mind. However, he was afterwards carry’d back again into his prison, where he was to lie the following night. By this description we see that the three parts of corporal atonement for criminals, answer’d exactly to the three trials of the purification of the body preparative to the initiation: but there was this difference, that these trials of candidates for the initiation were voluntary; whereas criminals, being always bound, were forc’d by the hands of others to undergo their punishments. There were, indeed, atonements of a more moderate nature for crimes less atrocious than murder.

The third day, before sun-rise, the preparations for the expiatory sacrifice were begun. I shall not give the particulars of a ceremony, which lasted almost a whole day; I shall only observe, that it consisted of two principal parts, both of which were perform’d in the temple; but the former, with the gates shut. In this it was they undertook to appease Typhon, the mischievous genius or deity, which the Egyptians look’d upon as the instigator of all the crimes of men, and the author of all their evils. From thence Zoroaster, and the sages of Persia, took their evil genius Arimanus, who was always the opposer of Orimasus their universal benefactor; the Greeks, their Apopompean and Apotropean deities in opposition to Jupiter Olympus; and the Latins, their Averrunci, opposites to their assisting Jupiter, (Jovi juvanti). In Egypt their custom was, on this occasion, to lead a red bullock (of which colour they suppos’d Typhon to have been) into the hinder part of the sanctuary. The priest, chief of the expiations, laid his hand on the head of the victim, and pronounc’d these words, of which part are related by Herodotus⁠[61]⁠: “May the guilt of the criminal here present, with all the unhappy consequences which it ought justly to draw upon him, his family and country, pass into this animal, which we sacrifice to thee, O Typhon! as a representation of the death of him who is the object of your hatred.” In that instant the bullock was knock’d down by a blow between the horns; and the priest having cut his throat, sprinkled the criminal, who was yet cloathed in sackcloth, with his blood. But whereas in other sacrifices, the priests, and even those who made the offering, divided and carry’d away the victim in pieces for food; every part of the expiatory victim was cast out into the fields.

They next endeavour’d to appease the manes of the dead. Those who came thither to obtain the expiation, found round about the temple sellers of images of men and women, of ordinary workmanship, and always plac’d upon little pedestals. They were of gold, silver, or brass; and their height from three to twelve inches. They were made use of in this ceremony to represent indifferently the person, or sometimes even the deity offended. The sellers put those who demanded admittance to the expiation in mind to take one in with them, of matter and height proportion’d to their circumstances. Saphon, before he enter’d, had not been wanting to choose one of gold of the largest size; which he was to leave in the temple for a retribution according to custom. The priest having set it before him on a table, to represent Giscon, pronounc’d his encomiums in the name of the guilty, who was always suppos’d to confess the good qualities of the person he had murder’d. In this elogy, which was prepar’d the evening before, and written at length in their ritual, the priest read several particulars of the life of the deceas’d, which he knew by other means than by the confession of the criminal, and at which he was often astonish’d. By practices of this kind, manag’d with a great deal of cunning, the priests had acquir’d the fame of having secret knowledge, and heavenly revelations.

To conclude; they purify’d the air round about the criminal, by means of a suffumigation compos’d of sixteen drugs (a cubick number.) Plutarch has preserv’d a list of them in his treatise of Isis and Osiris; and the receipt of it is yet found in our dispensaries, under the name of Trochisk of Cyphi⁠[62]⁠. All this being perform’d, he was put into a bath; at his going out of which, he was cloath’d with the habit he had on when he came into the college. They then presented as well to him as to the priests and initiates, among whom was Sethos, bread and wine; which they eat and drank on the spot in silence. After this he was conducted thro’ the outward passages of the sanctuary into the nave of the church; but he was as yet guarded by officers of the second order. Then the children of the priests enter’d, either to wait at the altar, or to perform the chorus’s of musick. The gates of the temple were open’d, and the high-priest offer’d, in the front of the sanctuary, that sacrifice to the propitious deities, which they call’d pacifick, and in which they offer’d a white lamb.

Before the gates of the temple were open’d, Sethos, who was not yet to be seen, was gone up into his seat; and after all the ceremony was over, the Carthaginian, (who was to fast this third day till after sunset, which was not yet approaching) was led away.

The moment they all went out of the temple, thro’ the end of the sanctuary, to return to the college, news was brought the high-priest, that there was a candidate in the subterraneous temple, who without doubt would soon appear. The high-priest and his companions, who were yet together, plac’d themselves in order behind the triple statue. Quickly afterwards they heard the noise of the wheels inclos’d within the pedestal; and the priests saw a man come out, who was not arm’d with a helmet and cuirass, like Saphon, but who otherwise had as perfect a resemblance of him, as could be between two twin-brothers. The high-priest congratulating him, as customary, on his address and valour, ventur’d to call him Giscon; which surpriz’d him extreamly. But having afterwards made him kneel down, and having pronounc’d over him that form of words, in which they call’d him, New Votary of the great goddess Isis; the candidate arose, and said, “Venerable priests of Memphis, I shall not conceal from you either my condition or fortune; and I plainly see, by the knowledge you have of my name, it would be to no purpose to do it: but I myself must confess, that if you judge of me by the disadvantageous opinion the world has of me, I am unworthy to be the servant of your goddess. I am, indeed, Giscon, that unfortunate Carthaginian, proscrib’d by my fellow-citizens, and banish’d by the Capsans. The first make me criminal for commanding an army against my country; and the second, for refusing to bear arms against it. The Carthaginians believe my death certain, and look upon it as a punishment for a battle I had no concern in; and the Capsans, a vagabond people, of whom I have form’d a republick, already renown’d, have banish’d me, as a man who has refus’d to encounter with their greatest enemies, the Carthaginians.” Here the high-priest interrupted him, and said, “Giscon, we already know the greater part of your history. We have approv’d of the beginning of it, and have condemn’d the conclusion, in the manner we have been inform’d of it: But your innocence is now confirm’d to us by seeing you alive. That, however, is not sufficient: Saphon, your brother, who is actually in this house, and on whom we have just finish’d the ceremonies of atonement, which your senate enjoin’d him to seek here for your suppos’d death, must be a witness of it. By that we make a considerable breach in our rule, that no candidate is allow’d to discourse with any prophane person, till the course of his exercises be finish’d. But as it is the duty of a good man to clear himself as soon as possible from crimes laid to his charge, it is ours to facilitate the means of it. Your brother, in carrying your justification before you to Carthage, will carry at the same time his own; and after having been purify’d here before the gods for his unjust and wicked intention, he will clear himself, in the sight of your father, your senate, and your people, from the ever odious name of murderer of his own brother.” The high-priest first made Giscon drink the cup of oblivion; and while he was drinking it, pronounc’d the usual form of words: but he added, that while he was relating to his brother, in their presence, what he did during the battle; how the person who was kill’d instead of him came by his and finally, why, when banish’d by the Capsans, he came into Egypt; he should be very careful not to make any mention of those first trials of the initiation which he had gone thro’; of the opening of the pyramid thro’ which he enter’d; or of that of the pedestal of the triple statue of Osiris, Isis, and Horus, thro’ which he now came thither. After which, the high-priest made a sign to have Saphon sent for.

Giscon had time enough, before his brother came, to tell the high-priest, that he had always had an ardent desire of being made an initiate at Memphis, and to receive of him and his companions those precepts and examples of virtue which made them esteem’d thro’ the whole world; but that since his misfortunes, he could hardly pretend to a title so honourable, or to burthen a body of men, whose reputation was so precious, with a man every where regarded as a criminal. However, continu’d he, reflecting at the same time, that the gods are the refuge of the unhappy, and that persecuted innocence finds a sure sanctuary in them; What more favourable opportunity could I have of offering myself to them, than my exile itself? and what more pressing reason to devote myself intirely to their service, than the state I was reduc’d to by injustice and ingratitude, of being no farther serviceable to mankind, unknown, and fearful of being known? I travers’d Ciniphi, Tripolitania, the country of the Nasamones, and the desarts of Marmorica: In Libya I pass’d by the temple of Jupiter Ammon, which I saluted at a distance, without daring to approach it. I knew at Carthage, and from the very time I first aspir’d to the initiation, that the opening of the pyramid was the way to it, without, however, knowing that it led into this holy temple. But I had heard mention made of the dreadful inscription at the bottom of the well; and of the perilous purifications of the body, which were previous to the preparations of the mind. I resolv’d, when I left Capsa, to undergo the danger of the former, without any farther pretence to the latter; or at least, to give a sincere relation of my name and circumstances to the holy priests, who were to receive me. At my arrival, yesterday evening, in the borough, nearest the pyramid, my host, whom I only made acquainted with the desire I had of visiting it, made me a present of a lamp, which he told me was proper for my design. I departed at sun-rising; and being about two hours afterwards at the foot of the pyramid, I ascended it with a resolution of perishing, if the disgrace I labour’d under, with regard to man, was an effect of the wrath of the gods themselves; and abandoning my justification to time, the discoverer of all things. But what shall I say? My indifference, with regard to death, strengthen’d me against it, and has led me to you, O most holy priests of Isis, ready to submit to the lot you may judge me worthy of upon my own confession. The high-priest answer’d; Giscon, the thoughts of the gods are not conformable to those of men; and we ourselves shall better judge of your past conduct by the account you are going to give of it in the presence of your brother.

Upon that Saphon came in; but it is impossible to express the confusion which arose in his mind, at the first sight of his brother. He was not long in reflecting how he came into the hinder part of the sanctuary, from whence he himself was but just departed: but he now first conceiv’d, that another besides his brother might have worn Carthaginian armour in the battle. Asham’d of his error, which he perceiv’d was very palpable, he had a violent suspicion that the priests themselves had had Giscon with them several days, and made a secret of it to him, to make him undergo the horrible fatigues of the atonement, for a crime of which he had rashly and falsely accus’d himself. He remember’d, at the same time, the instructions he had so lately receiv’d from a master hardly come to man’s estate, who had destroy’d the pretended heroism of his exploits, and had shewn him, that valour, his favourite virtue, had till then been in him only a blind and pernicious passion. He saw this brother living, who was pronounc’d a greater hero than himself, even at a time when he was thought dead as a criminal. In a word, he found himself plung’d into an humiliation, against which he could find no remedy in his mind. Happily for him to recover his surprize, his brother Giscon was to speak first; and he thus began his discourse:

Brother, these venerable priests enjoin me to appear before your eyes this very moment, to justify us both; myself for having commanded an army of Capsans against the Carthaginians; and you for having imbrued your hands in my blood. However ardently I pursued my design of forming the republick of the Capsans, and whatever diligence I us’d to put them into a state of defence against the assaults of their neighbours; I had declar’d to them, that tho’ I was ready to sacrifice my life for them against all their other enemies, I would never take up arms against my country. I did not even scruple to tell them, that I was only theirs for a time, and that after having executed the design I had conceiv’d so much to their advantage, as well my person as my services were devoted to my father and my country. I had given them this notice in time, to remove any suspicion that might arise of my having united them only with a design to deliver their whole nation with greater ease into the hands of the Carthaginians. Notwithstanding all this caution I had taken, as soon as they were advis’d of your march towards Capsa, they gave me to understand in their council of war, that they should esteem me as a coward or a traytor, if I did not take the command of their army against you. I answer’d, That I forgave these their injurious terms, the remains of their former ferocity, but that I was led by maxims superior to theirs; that no human constraint should ever make me depart from a resolution which I had not taken till after having maturely consulted the laws of justice and honour. I even added, that tho’ I was oblig’d to them for the confidence they had plac’d in me, in which they were not deceiv’d, if they kept within the bounds I had prescrib’d them, they acted contrary to common prudence in pressing me to accept of the command of an army, which I should lead but by force, if I were capable of yielding to their desires. That thus, all I could advise them to, was to inform you by heralds of the equity of their pretensions, and the injustice of your assaulting them: But I oblig’d them, for the maintenance of their own sovereign authority, to enjoin those heralds to speak in their name, and not in mine; and above all, that they should inform you in express terms, that as I had not accepted of any office among them, it would not be with me you were to engage in battle. I know all this was faithfully related to you; and by this you might at least have suspected I was not that commander you kill’d. In the mean time the Capsans, full of indignation at your answer, immediately nam’d for their general the person I had recommended to them as the most proper amongst them for their chief after my retreat, the first to whom I had communicated the design I had of uniting them, and who had been my chief instrument in that undertaking. They moreover stript me of my armour, and put it on him, to deceive you, and, against my will, to make me liable to the suspicion and appearance of being concern’d in an action in which in reality I had no part. They immediately pass’d the mountains which separate them from the dominions of Carthage, and they affected to lay waste on their side a greater spot of ground than was necessary to inclose their army. The manner of the battle you are better acquainted with than I who was not in it: But the Capsans who, in defending their own country with all the resolution of a new-form’d republick, had lost but very few of their people, return’d to their city, where they kept me strictly guarded. There they elected in my presence, and without consulting me, a new general; to whom, however, I should have given my vote. After which, they enjoin’d me, by a decree in form, to depart their dominions, without offering me any thanks for the past, or indeed any other insult for the present.

It would have been natural for me to return to Carthage; and by shewing myself there, to justify the only thing which could be imputed to me as a crime, during the two years of my absence. But I had been inform’d, as well by your answer to the heralds, as by other means, that you had, as well in your army as throughout the whole nation, cast a blemish upon the enterprize I had just succeeded in, of giving laws and manners to the Capsans. Reason made me first conceive, and experience has confirm’d it to me, that this was the only expedient which would free us from these rovers, who never invaded us but in separate troops, whom ’twas impossible for me to rencounter in their own territories, and from whom we had even nothing to fear, but by their being dispers’d. This thought had long revolv’d in my mind, and the choice our father had left us of our expeditions, when he engag’d to declare him his successor, who should perform the most heroick action, gave me an opportunity of putting it in execution. But having no design to dispute a right, which was yours by birth, I left to you those glorious advantages which you might render our empire by the fame of your arms, and went to seek at a distance an obscure service, very dangerous in its execution, and very doubtful in its success. I must confess, however, I did not expect you would have imputed to me as a crime an expedition actually accomplish’d to the benefit of our country, and of which it had already gather’d the fruits in the security of its highways, and the tranquillity in its plains. I thought it my duty to let the storm of persecution you had rais’d against me, pass over; and I would not oppose the proscription you had drawn upon me from our senate, tho’ chiefly grounded upon the false supposition of my having been in the battle, and of my death; and I very well know my father was, in some measure, persuaded of my innocence; and that the senate had not condemn’d me but with regret. But I am come into Egypt, to lay myself at the feet of these holy priests, as the source of all justice; persuaded, that a decision from this sacred tribunal, will re-establish my blemish’d honour more securely, than an inconsiderate return could have done. I have even no farther desire of returning to Carthage, after what has happen’d; and it shan’t be my fault, if I don’t end my days in this holy temple.

The high-priest, then beginning to speak, said; Saphon, before you answer your brother what you may think proper, and that you may have occasion to speak but once, I myself will put a conclusion to his discourse, by telling you, That not only his conduct has been unblameable from the first to the last step of his expedition, but he has fully gain’d the advantage of you in having perform’d the most heroick action. He has, however, no right to the prize your father had set upon it. Whatever motive the wise Zoros may have had, the gods, more prudent and mighty than he, have brought matters to their true period, and have drawn even from the error of your senate, the just sentence they have pronounc’d, by securing to you the succession to your father. Giscon, as you have heard, gives his consent to it; and he could not oppose it, without losing before the gods and men, the glory of those great works he has hitherto perform’d. We don’t, however, approve of the resolution he seems to have brought with him hither, of renouncing the service of his country. The gods, who have no need of us, look upon the services we do to men, who are the work of their hands, as the surest mark of our piety towards them; and a perpetual retirement is only commendable in those who never could, or can no longer be of service to other men. It is true, the instructions we may go in search of, or our meditations at different times, and especially under misfortunes, contribute greatly to our perfection, and render us more useful for the future. And thus your brother ought to be thankful to the gods for the mischance which has led him hither, to receive the initiation, to which we are going to prepare him: But as soon as he is made partaker of it, we ourselves shall send him to Carthage, that he may there continue to serve his country under your illustrious father, during the remainder of his old age; and under you, when you shall be invested with his dignity.

Saphon, then lifting up his eyes and his hands to the triple statue, said; Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians, I at last yield to your wisdom. I for ever disclaim my blind projects, and vain exploits; and am too happy that even my transgression has been imaginary. I accept with an entire submission, and a profound gratitude, those instructions which I have receiv’d from your holy ministers, and from the youngest of your disciples. They have all been confirm’d and justify’d by every circumstance of this adventure, which is visibly a work of divine providence. My dear brother, I am going to prepare the way for your return to Carthage, by the most authentick justification of your actions which I shall be capable of giving. The testimony of these holy priests will be without doubt more respected; but it shall neither be more faithful, nor so ready as mine. The high-priest made a sign to Giscon to go to his brother; and they embrac’d with all imaginable tenderness. Saphon was once more led into his apartment; and as the setting sun began to quit the horizon, he there found a handsome but frugal repast, and a vase fill’d with excellent wine. It was left to his choice, either to go out that evening, or to take his repose there in the bed he saw prepar’d. But Saphon, after having accepted of the refreshment set before him, and being inform’d that his servants attended without, express’d his gratitude in a polite manner to the priests who bore him company, and who waited on him to the gate of their college.

With regard to Giscon, as his exercises were not to commence till the next day, he was conducted into the same apartment Sethos had, till then, possess’d; but from whence he was that day to remove into those destin’d for the initiates, who had always lodgings in the colleges of the priests; in which, if they thought fit, they were allow’d to spend their days. Antient history gives us examples of kings, who were initiates; and who having, either by reason of their age or infirmities, given up the cares of government to worthy successors, had desired no other retirement.

All the initiates were allow’d this first evening to see the candidate, for whom a great entertainment was prepar’d, but none eat with him. The priests, who had carry’d Sethos thither, engag’d him to relate to Giscon all that had pass’d with regard to his brother, and even the part he had had in the instructions which had been given him. This recital inspir’d the Carthaginian with an extraordinary respect for this young prince; who, for his part, had before conceiv’d a very high esteem for this stranger, whose eminent virtue might have done honour to Egypt itself. And thus they cemented those bonds of solid friendship, which will prove of such assistance to Giscon, to deliver him from misfortunes which a fatal passion will plunge him into in the sequel of this history.

Before Sethos was led into the Carthaginian’s apartment, they made him break his fast with a regulated quantity of wholsome and succulent food, and a little wine. But as this fast had been of long duration, and the austerity of it had been increasing for near three months, till it came to its extreme; the priests, who were physicians, were to preside at all his meals for the twelve following days, to bring him by degrees to his usual way of living. These twelve days were allotted for the manifestation, the third and last part of the initiation, which was rather a recompence for the exercises that had preceded, than any exercise in itself. Human curiosity was here fully satisfy’d, by a discovery of the sacred mysteries, and other secrets of the Egyptian priesthood: and in imitation of the greatest travellers upon earth, the initiates, visiting the subterraneous dwellings of Egypt, travell’d, as it were, into another world.

The first of these twelve days, at the dawn of day, the candidate was led to the triple statue; and being made to kneel before it, the high-priest consecrated him first to Isis; who by the wisdom she had inspir’d him with, had render’d him worthy of being admitted to a revelation of her mysteries: Secondly, to Osiris, the benefactor of mankind; to the service of whom he had, in imitation of his great example, devoted himself: And lastly, to Horus, the god of silence, and of the secret to which he was going to bind himself. They then immediately caus’d him to read the form of a terrifying oath. He swore never to divulge to any prophane person the least of what he was to see in these twelve days, or at any other time, in the subterranean temples of Egypt; submitting himself, if he violated this secret, to the vengeance of all the deities of heaven, earth, and hell; declaring himself, in this case, guilty of death, and subscribing before hand to the execution of this sentence, which they look’d upon as pronounc’d. It is certain, that the bare observation of their religious secrets gave the initiates, as well as the priests, a fund of wisdom and discretion, for which they were reverenc’d, and which procur’d them, as well from princes as private persons, an entire confidence of secrets in every kind. They however recommended, not only to initiates, but to young priests and officers of the second order, not to affect that reserv’d air, which serves only to excite in others a useless curiosity, and which, in some measure, discovers the secret they are solicitous to keep. Thus they accustom’d themselves to a certain affability, which did not give room to the greater part of mankind to suspect they knew more than they said.

They then open’d to Sethos the subterraneous passages, which extended in a square from the sanctuary of the temple to the pyramid; that is, in length and breadth, about four thousand paces, and which consequently corresponded with the superiour temples of some little towns dependant on Memphis. But, according to custom, they gave him, as a guide, the last admitted Egyptian initiate, who happen’d to be in the house; because, in fact, the priests, who were in a measure reserv’d even to initiates, suffer’d them barely to see, but did not explain to them, till after a considerable time, the ceremonies or secret transactions they had seen. But the initiate, who conducted him, was allow’d to communicate his conjectures, which generally did not go far.

I might here properly enough make an invocation like that of poets, who undertake to give a description of hell. That I may be allow’d to reveal those things which I have learnt, and to bring to light what has been done in the bowels of the earth, and under the impenetrable veil of a profound silence. Sethos was no sooner descended into these subterraneous mansions from the superiour temple, than he was extremely astonish’d to hear the cries of children. Orpheus, who was as much surpriz’d at it as he, since feign’d, That those children that dy’d at the breast, were plac’d at the entrance into hell. But these were the children of the priests, whose mothers were always sent to lie-in in the apartments which were there prepar’d for them. The reason of this practice was, to accustom the constitutions of these children, from the very moment of their birth, to these subterraneous habitations, in which they were to pass a great part of their life. And besides, they would not suffer any sort of noise or disturbance, nor even any paternal frailty to interrupt the priests in their meditations and studies; and they were taught to look upon their children from that instant, as appertaining to the sacerdotal college, and not to them. Hence it was Lycurgus took his plan and motive for the publick education of the Spartans. The Egyptian priestesses suckled their children themselves, if the state of their health allow’d it; or else the wives of the officers of the second order serv’d them for nurses. These apartments the initiate only saw at the door, and for an instant. The priests, who were physicians, were alone permitted to go in, and they directed the oeconomy of them. The women and children were treated with a great deal of indulgence; for tho’ the latter were destin’d to employs, some of which were very laborious, the Egyptians believ’d nature must be left to fortify itself, before they exacted any thing from it: but at the age of five years, these children went into the common halls, design’d for the most early instruction of youth, where they had masters who taught them to read and to write the vulgar or prophane letters⁠[63]⁠. They frequented these halls three years; from whence, however, they return’d every noon and evening to their mothers. Till then, the children of both sexes and orders had their education together, were kept within sight, and even watch’d in the night-time. But at eight years, they were separated according to the two orders; the first of which was, of those who by birth were allotted to the exercises of the mind; and the other of those whose business was the work of their hands. The males were likewise separated from the females, and the sons of the priests one from the other, according to the different studies they were to follow, with a view to the different functions and professions of the sacerdotal families. These differences form’d however but four classes or schools: 1. Sacred or hieroglyphick literature, for those who were to succeed the priests employ’d in publick and private instructions on religion and morality. 2. Jurisprudence; from whence were taken those priests who were counsellors and judges in the cities. 3. Experimental physick, where the priests, who were to practise physick, had their education. And 4. Mathematicks, for those who were to profess any part of them. From that time they were likewise distinguish’d, both boys and girls, by their robes of four different colours, such as the priests wore under their tunicks of fine linnen in the publick exercises of their separate professions, or in the Isiack pomps and processions. These four colours were black for the first class; red for the second; violet for the third, and blue for the fourth. The education of these children was in general very rigid, because they were ty’d down to an extreme regularity, and were to be brought up to the highest perfection. But their masters, who themselves were supervis’d by attentive superiors, were never more severe one than the other; and the young disciples, knowing upon what principles their founders acted, did not think themselves unhappy.

Besides this, there was every day, about noon, a publick school, which they call’d, The School of Language. Even the daughters of the priests, who were kept in a subterranean apartment till the age of sixteen, under the government of the eldest and wisest of the priestesses, frequented these schools. There it was they were taught the rudiments and pronunciation, both simple and declamatory, of the Egyptian tongue. Advancing from year to year, they went thro’ every species of eloquence and poetry; and they made the application of them either in the composition of history, or the expounding of the several duties of life, or the description of the human passions. The studies of these young persons were farther diversify’d by their sacred exercises to which they were accustom’d, and in which they were employ’d from that time; the boys alone in the superior temple, and both the boys and girls in the subterraneous; but preferable to every study: those who had a disposition to it, were kept close to musick, even tho’ they neglected other exercises for which they had less inclination. It won’t be amiss to observe in general, that in consideration of the great numbers of ceremonial or œconomical functions in which the priests were to be employ’d, they oblig’d none to persevere in the sciences but those who were proper for them; and that these were also afterwards more frequently than others dispens’d from their usual assiduities or exterior attendances.

The period of every one of these schools was of ten years, and they had each ten professors, who succeeded one another, to receive every year those new scholars which were presented, whilst the others prosecuted and finish’d their course. The new initiate spent the first time a quarter of an hour in every one of these schools. They were always very full, because they were only kept in the twelve antient temples, and the priests of the towns dependant upon them, were oblig’d to send their children to the chief temple, that their education might be uniform. But we are not to believe that they were all sent back again to the towns from whence they came, as all the children born at Memphis had not therefore their establishment there. The high-priest and his counsel, wholly attentive to the reputation of the priesthood, plac’d them according to their talents, with a view, to the different importance of the temples they were to officiate in, and they were chang’d as occasion requir’d. Memphis had the choice of the whole sacerdotal nome for religion and the sciences; but by the subterraneous communication, a whole nome was in some manner but one single house.

However, after the age of nine years all the children began, at times, to frequent the upper house, to accustom themselves to the exteriour air; on condition, however, that their mothers never suffer’d them to be seen in their apartments by any women from without, because they were not yet bound by the oath of secrecy, and provided there was no candidate in the house; for in this case they only came thither to assist at the sacrifices in the sanctuary. This had more than once surpriz’d Sethos, who, during the time of his preparation, saw these children go and come, but could not guess whence they came, or whither they return’d. To conclude, at the age of eighteen the priests marry’d them to their daughters of sixteen, as they judg’d most convenient; and after taking the oath of secrecy, to which their wives were likewise bound, they were added to the sacerdotal college, and were lodg’d in the superiour houses; being however oblig’d to officiate in their turns in the subterranean: And then, though they were always oblig’d to follow the destiny of their family, and particularly, never to appear abroad but upon that footing; they were allow’d to study in private the other sciences, being persuaded that they were all dependant upon one another in some parts, and that there was no possessing any, without having some small tincture of several others. They never spoke, however, publickly, nor even to candidates; nor did they go to court or appear in the world till seven years afterwards; and till they had receiv’d all the instructions necessary to behave themselves in such manner as might be an honour to their body; provided even then, that their superiors judg’d them persons to be confided in.

The officers of the second order, of whom we must now speak, form’d, with their wives, a numerous body of subaltern ministers, for the ceremonies of religion; domesticks for the priests or priestesses in the superior dwellings, or for their children in the subterraneous; and lastly, of workmen of every kind for their persons, houses and temples. As no stranger came in among them, the inward reparations and ornaments could be made by none but these officers, and the priests wore nothing about them that was the work of prophane hands. The priestesses were always distinguish’d from other women by a tunick of fine linnen, which they wore upon a robe of the colour which shew’d the class their husbands belong’d to. But as they wore above the tunick a mantle of silk of what colour they pleas’d, embroider’d with gold, and dress’d their heads to their own mind, they were as magnificent as the Roman vestals have since been, without ever borrowing any thing from without. These workmen partaking of the same principles as their masters, were generally much more ingenious than those who work’d for the publick. But as they never wrought for any without-doors, their works serv’d as models, and excited emulation, without being the objects of envy and jealousy. All the mechanick arts, rang’d in order in these subterraneous habitations, form’d a long series of curiosities; which Sethos being then oblig’d to take but a slight view of, pleas’d himself with resolving to review again frequently. This subterranean city, which made two thirds of the whole square, had several streets, some larger, some less; and even squares, all equally illuminated with lamps. Since the first construction of these dwellings, they had contriv’d to pierce holes in several places quite thro’ to the surface of the earth; not, indeed, for the sake of light, for it wou’d never have been sufficient, but to receive a wholsome air into habitations fram’d by the priests, which the first founders never thought of. These openings, which all answer’d to some of the squares underneath, terminated at top in the form of a well, in the court-yards or gardens of sacerdotal houses; some of which had never been built but for that purpose: and they found them, in course of time, very convenient to let down provisions, and to draw up the most unwieldy of their works. There were likewise, for the convenience of men, round about the inward walls, several rows of steps like unto those we have describ’d in the well of the pyramid: but towards the west, the depth was so great, that they could discern the stars at noon-day, and even some of the planets in their greatest northern latitude. And the priests soon took advantage of this appearance, to observe at different hours the motions of the stars and planets to the meridian, through the narrow cleft of the lids which they sometimes caus’d to be put over these wells.

As the new initiate employ’d several days in taking this view, he came out to take his meals and his repose, in some of the superior houses which lay most conveniently in his way. The guide had them all given him in writing; and those whom he met, directed them in every place what they had to do.

Sethos came the fourth day to that place call’d, The Field of Tears (Lugentes campi.) It was an oblong, of the breadth of three acres, and the length of nine, encompass’d by four walks, in which terminated several other of the subterranean passages, and was cover’d by a very high vault. Here the officers of the second order were punish’d for any crimes committed, according to sentence given by three priests; and by different chastisements in proportion to the heinousness of them. The most common crimes, which were for having certain number of times fail’d in the punctual observance of their different employs, were punish’d by hard and unprofitable labour for a certain number of days or hours. The men, for example, one or more together, roll’d a cylinder of stone, bigger or less, according to their number, up a sort of hill rais’d across the eastern end of the field; and the cylinder rolling down on the other side, they rais’d it to the top again in the same manner till it roll’d back again to the same place from whence it came, and there they begun again. The women drew water from deep wells, to pour it into a canal of flowing water drawn from the canal of the initiation; and which, after having travers’d the chief of the subterraneous walks, border’d the east end of the Field of Tears. Here is easy to discover the origin of the rock of Sisyphus, and of the vessels of the Danaïdes in Orpheus. These men and women were naked to their girdle; but it was their own fault if they receiv’d any corporal punishment: and Sethos was very well pleas’d to find the overseers employ’d in moderating the eagerness of those who were undergoing their penitence. But faults more heinous were attended with pains really afflicting. Tho’ the priests and priestesses were liable to certain kinds of punishments, they were entirely hidden from the eyes of initiates, to preserve the honour of the priesthood; and from the secondary officers, to keep them within the bounds of that respect due to their superiors. This caution was never dispens’d with but in crimes of a scandalous nature, that had disturb’d the order of their house, or were publickly known. For such, they were condemn’d to one or more years of silence, which they were oblig’d to pass under-ground. Sethos saw several priests and priestesses, cloath’d in black, divested of the sacerdotal tunick, walking round the Field of Tears, and hiding their faces, or going into the prison which was on the side of it. There every one had his cell; but they had no conversation but with books, which were not refus’d them. To conclude; in case of violation of the secret, priests, initiates, and secondary officers were condemn’d to a punishment full of horror in its nature, tho’ it might be short enough. It was to rip up their bosoms and tear out their hearts; which were given to be devour’d by birds of prey. It was even forbidden the prophane to ask questions of any one whomsoever concerning the secrets of the priesthood; and if by an extraordinary accident they did surprize any, they were under penalty of death, ty’d down to the same secrecy as the priests themselves. But whole ages hardly furnish’d such an example; and it was only upon the idea they gave Orpheus of the punishment of a revealer of their secrets, that he invented that of Prometheus and Tityus: but he took the gigantick length, which he gave to the body of Tityus in his fable, who, according to him, being stretch’d out at length on the ground, cover’d nine acres, from the real length of this field.

Sethos advancing yet farther, came to an inchanted place call’d, The Elysian Fields. Here we must represent to ourselves a garden of about three quarters of a league in length from north to south, according to the situation of the pyramids, and of eight hundred paces broad from east to west. This breadth began the last third of the whole square, reckoning from the superior temple. Eight large parallel walks, which travers’d at equal distances the whole subterranean city, led to these Elysian fields, and began in some measure the garden, because they were adorn’d on both sides with great vases of flowers or fragrant shrubs. The priests, to embellish their Elysian fields, had employ’d whatever human invention, rais’d upon poetick ideas, could imagine. The light came from above to the whole extent of its superficies: but as it fell to the bottom from the height of one hundred and forty feet, it was something weaken’d; and the shadows of the trees, with which this garden was fill’d, weakening it yet more, at full day it seem’d but to enjoy the light of the moon. This situation has, perhaps, given some room for a description of the garden of the Hesperides, so as we read it in Scylax, the geographer. Those minds which have experimented great passions, know how far a light thus allay’d, is proper for gentle dreams. This it was that put Orpheus on giving the Elysian fields a peculiar sun and stars, tho’ they had no other light but from the sun and stars of our world. This immense opening was bounded at top, as the other, in an enclosure intirely wall’d round, which belong’d to the priests. The walls of these Elysian fields, which terminated on the south side in an oval, and were cut off in a strait line by a stately edifice on the north, seem’d to support the heavens on the entablature on the top of them. The oval end appear’d to be a prodigious water-work, which to the eye, deceiv’d by the height and distance of the object, seem’d to proceed out of the clouds; and which, after having form’d several large canals, was lost, like all the waters of these subterranean mansions, in the bowels of the earth: but besides all this, hidden pipes furnish’d water playing out in fountains in the midst of an infinite number of basons. This whole garden was divided into walks, groves, and labyrinths, adorn’d with excellent statues and fine groupes of brass, marble and porphyry. The beds of the parterre were long chests set into the ground, and fill’d with earth brought thither, in which grew not only the most beautiful flowers, but other ornamental plants, as myrtles, laurels, and orange-trees. In the middle of this whole spot of ground were mark’d out large spaces, which serv’d as areas or circus’s for divers exercises of the body; where not only the secondary officers, in several of whose functions a great activity was requir’d; but the children of the priests, both boys and girls, agreeable to their sex, were train’d up in them. Their first view in this, was to form and render the body active in general, as with other Egyptians. The fruits of this care was to draw a great number of people into their temples, by the exactitude and gracefulness with which they perform’d the numerous ceremonies of their religion. And in the common occurrences of life, tho’ the priests and priestesses were more reserv’d, and had more modesty in their behaviour than worldly people, there was observ’d a grace and an easiness in their posture and carriage, which the knowing often took for a model.

But they had a reason of much greater importance to them, to make their children expert in all those exercises which have since compos’d the art of serious representations among the Greeks and Romans. It was by means of theatrical scenes, that the priests of the principal temples of Egypt, and especially those of Heliopolis and Memphis, answer’d those questions which were propos’d to them concerning future and hidden things⁠[64]⁠. They look’d upon this manner of answering as less hazardous for them than the decisive oracles of Butos, or the astrological predictions of Thebes, and capable at the same time of causing more surprize in those who consulted them, and who fancy’d they saw the very thing in question. The greater part of the enchantments, related in fabulous history, were only such plays. These representations were perform’d at Memphis, in that building which form’d the northern extremity of the Elysian fields; and which, to attract the greater veneration, had the frontispiece of a temple. The priests of the first class, or those who apply’d themselves to sacred literature, presided over these plays, and their children were train’d up to them; tho’ among the other classes, they took both priests and priestesses who seem’d to have the greatest talent for these exercises, and they employ’d both men and women of the second order to serve at them. The priests, who were mathematicians, put in practice whatever experience had taught them in the mechanicks, for the probability of the material shew, and the motion of the machines introduc’d therein. The opticks were in every part observ’d with such nicety, that the senses were faithful while they gave false ideas; and the objects themselves could not have appear’d otherwise than their images seem’d to do, in the perspective of their theatre. We must likewise allow, that as they had no occasion for an entire amphitheatre, they plac’d the person, or few persons, they were to answer to at each time, in such a point of view as was an infallible illusion to their sight.

But all this was nothing in comparison to the measures which the knowledge they had of the dispositions of the soul and body enabled them to take, to prepare their spectators for this illusion. They made them sometimes wait whole months; and during that time, they endeavour’d to get partly out of them, and partly by other means, those circumstances which were preliminary to the matter which gave them uneasiness; that they might compose their verses, and prepare the decorations of their scenes accordingly. They then receiv’d those who consulted them into the private apartments they had in the temple: And besides the mysterious ceremonies they perform’d before them there with the gates shut, they fed them for several days together with nothing but light food and delicious liquors, in which they mix’d soporiferous potions. At last they took up a great stone towards the bottom of the temple; and there they saw, by the favour of a gloomy and sparing light, an easy slanting passage, by which they were to descend. They were plac’d in a sort of car, which was only open before. The priest, who was chief of the divination, plac’d himself by them; and if they were women, they were accompany’d by a priestess, who was allotted them from the beginning, as a companion and adviser. This car, compleatly mounted upon low wheels, which were hidden, and making no noise, was push’d gently from behind down the easy descent, as if it went of itself, into one of the walks we mention’d above, which, in some measure, began the Elysian fields. The car was first set in motion, and continued in it by officers of the second order, who came, without being seen, out of doors of this subterraneous passage, and who were reliev’d by others from space to space. And thus it went on in an equal motion to the Elysian fields, at the entrance of which they alighted.

Tho’ this place serves for a daily walk to all the subterraneous inhabitants, yet when any such persons were expected, every thing was so order’d that they saw none but whom, at a distance, they took for heroes or heroins, wise men and virtuous women. The priest and priestess, who did not suffer them to be out of their sight, nam’d the chief of those whom they said had been beneficial to human society, either by their great services, or by wise instructions, or at least by good examples. They let them see at a greater distance vast crouds of those, who, tho’ their virtues had been bury’d in obscurity, had not been the less punctual in the observance of them during their lives; nor were they less rewarded for them after their death. The light fell equally upon all their faces, they were not, however, to be distinguish’d. Nearer were those who had subdued the greatest of human passions, love and anger; and next to them, those who had only given way to chaste and lawful love; or who had only follow’d the motives of a just anger against the wicked, for the benefit of the good, and the advantage even of the wicked themselves. All these possess’d the bottom of the Elysian fields, which was the most agreeable part. On the side of them, in the wings, were those who had done great actions, but had suffer’d them to be eclips’d by great and frequent frailties; or who, in the course of their glorious undertakings, had sometimes taken the counsels of their passions for the counsels of virtue. In another part, to conclude, were those whom love had never indeed prompted to commit a crime; but who, by means of this passion, had been render’d supine and backward in the practice of their duty, and for ever averted from the heroick course they had begun to pursue. The same restless spirit which had tortur’d them in their life, but above all, a regret for having in this manner travers’d their fate, follow’d them even in death. In vain the women they had lov’d, represented to them how satisfy’d they ought to be with the fame they had acquir’d: they had not that serenity in their countenances, which is the effect of accomplish’d virtue, and these women turn’d aside to weep. At these sights such persons thought themselves truly transported into the habitations of the other world, and believ’d none to be really alive but the priest and priestesses who accompany’d them.

They were next conducted to the theatre, which they were told was the temple of divination. At their entrance, a noble stair-case presented itself to their view; but thro’ the steps they perceiv’d, as in a great cavern, flames, which arose from a canal of spirituous and sulphurous waters, which they had set on fire. This canal, tho’ but narrow, by an effect of the opticks, seem’d to them a river of flames, of which Orpheus made his Phlegeton. Beyond the flames they saw men and women clad in skins, which fitted so close to their bodies, that they seem’d naked. Frightful figures of the Eumenides or Furies were continually scourging them: the vaults resounded with the reiterated blows, which however not giving any wounds, shew’d they met with bodies capable of sustaining eternal torments. These objects were shewn them as long as was thought proper, according to their character; and they even acquainted them with the causes of these different punishments, such as they generally might apply to themselves. They were at last brought to the front of the theatre, where the priest and priestess always seated themselves by them. There, besides the chorus’s, which, with the help of proper musick, represented in as lively, and in a more affecting manner than nature itself, either people or armies, according to the subject, the actors and actresses, by means of imperceptible masks, and other secrets of the Pantomime art, counterfeited the visages and voices of those persons the consulters were concern’d for.

Tho’ the priests did not give answer to every thing they were consulted about with so much ceremony; and these theatrical representations were in reality not perform’d above twice or thrice in a year; there were, however, every day general preparations or representations of scenes invented on feign’d subjects. The children of the priests regularly attended them. The priests and priestesses who actually officiated below, and even those of the superior mansions, came thither by turns, either to act parts, or to give their advice. Initiates were likewise admitted, and heard: and as they made trials of the effects of their decorations and musick, these rehearsals or proofs of shews were finer than the most finish’d pieces in the world. The Egyptian priests and priestesses had their places assign’d them in the latter, as among the Greeks and Romans since. It was surprizing enough to hear with how much judgment they gave their opinions of them; because even those who had receiv’d answers from them in this manner, believ’d they had seen apparitions, and not representations. I am the shorter in the description of this sacred anecdote, because we shall see an example of it at large in the last book, of which Sethos himself will be the object; but the consultation will be at Heliopolis, where the priests, as we have before hinted, were more expert in divination than those of Memphis.

I shan’t, however, quit this subject without removing an objection, which may arise in the minds of our readers, how the priests of Memphis, so enlighten’d, and so punctual in every article of morality, could thus deceive mankind. The key to this mystery is, that they themselves were seduc’d. It was a constant maxim amongst them, that divination was inherent to the priesthood. They prepossess’d their children with this opinion from their infancy, as they themselves had in like manner receiv’d it from their fathers. Their sacrifices, fastings and scourgings, preparatory to their answers, not in the presence of those who consulted them, but amongst themselves, sufficiently evince this truth. In like manner, all the measures they took besides to get information of facts, their assiduities, as well in their closets as private conferences, to endeavour to foresee future events, by the circumstances of times, places, and persons, were in their minds but so many natural means which they thought themselves oblig’d to make use of, lest they should tempt the gods, and by their temerity draw upon the priesthood the loss of so precious a gift. With an eye to the same precaution it was, that they were more or less precise in their answers, according to the inspirations they believ’d they had receiv’d. They did not, however, attempt to conceal the secret of this practice from their initiates. On the contrary, after having acquainted them with their principle, they were glad to get light from them on several questions they propos’d them, as from men who had more knowledge of the world than they themselves. As for their preparatives to work those who consulted them up to an illusion, or, as they call’d it, an extasy; they had another view in them, which they look’d upon as very commendable, with respect as well to them, as to other persons to whom they might relate their adventure. It was to inspire in them a love and fear of the gods; not only by a previous view of the Elysian fields, and of Tartarus, of which they let them have a glimpse, but by the great lessons, either given them in form, or cunningly insinuated in their scenes. Indeed, in course of time, when the practice of divination pass’d into Greece, or as it remain’d in Egypt, the intention of the diviners became exceedingly deprav’d: For, not to mention the palpable cheats of real impostors, only design’d to trick men of their money, and to corrupt the virtue of the women, the priests of some temples have had recourse to magick operations and horrid sorcery, which they thought a surer method to discover hidden causes than the invocation of the gods, or human and natural enquiries. But, in short, the result of all these considerations taken together, is this, that those of our Grecians who have attributed every kind of divination to deceit, have, in this point, had but a faint knowledge of mankind, and that the prepossession and enthusiasm of those who pretended to this gift has had a greater part in the error of divination, and has kept it up longer than fraud alone would have been capable of. However, as both these causes give equally place to truth, which becomes more and more manifested, divination loses ground daily; and we may, without being masters of that art, foretell its approaching and entire extinction. On the side of the Elysian fields, advancing towards the pyramids, was the last part of these subterraneous mansions, or the Pantheon of the priests of Memphis: On occasion of which I shall observe, that whole Egypt was call’d, The Pantheon of the Universe. Tho’ the whole extent of these subterranean habitations was in general call’d the temple, properly speaking, the pantheon alone deserv’d that name. The entrance to it was thro’ several very deep arches, plac’d behind the trees on the west-side of the Elysian fields. The roof of this temple was not extremely high, exceeding only by ten feet the height of the arches, which were of twenty feet: but tho’ the breadth was but of forty feet, the length was extraordinary, being equal to that of the Elysian fields, comprehending even the depth of the theatre. Less would not have been sufficient to contain all the deities of Egypt in separate chapels; nor was there a chapel allotted to every one: for the Egyptians ador’d, at least, the thirty thousand deities, of which Hesiod the poet tells us. The sanctuary of this temple was consecrated to Isis, the mother of nature, or nature herself. Her statue was there plac’d upon a pedestal, much the same as Apuleius, in his Metamorphosis, represents this goddess appearing to him in a dream. The foremost chapels on the right and on the left, contain’d each separate the image of one of the chief deities, which by the Romans, to whom Pythagoras brought them out of Egypt, were call’d Cosentes or Selecti, q. d. counsellors of Jupiter, or chosen for his counsel⁠[65]⁠.

Next to them came the demi-gods, call’d Semons or Medioximi, half men, or middling deities. The images of these, as many of them as were known by name, were plac’d several together in the succeeding chapels. The last chapels continu’d to the line of the frontispiece of the theatre, and were appropriated to that infinite number of unknown deities, who, according to them, had their habitations neither in heaven nor hell, but were dispers’d in the air, upon the earth, and in the waters. They were represented by general figures, or such of which one serv’d for a whole kind. These idols were plac’d in their several chapels, with their faces all turning towards the bottom of the temple, as that of Isis was in the sanctuary: but the bottom of the temple, from the line of the frontispiece of the theatre to the wall at the end, thro’ which there was no entrance, was reserv’d for the mischievous gods, otherwise call’d evil genius’s. Typhon was represented standing, leaning with his back against the wall, and of the same height; his arms stretch’d out reach’d the walls on the right hand and on the left; near in the same manner as the statue of Serapis, the Pluto of the modern Egyptians, in his temple, which we now see at Alexandria⁠[66]⁠. But Typhon had the figure of a man only from his head down to his navel; he was represented with flames proceeding out of his eyes and mouth, and from the trunk of his body two enormous dragons, which supply’d the place of thighs and legs⁠[67]⁠. His fingers were vipers, agreeable to the description which Hesiod gives of Typheus, and Apollodorus of Typhon, which were the same. From the bottom of the temple to the line of the frontispiece of the theatre were twenty chapels on each side, in which were the images of the malign genius’s, which, like the figure of Typhon, fac’d the good deities, to shew their opposition to them. The walls and roof of the temple, as well as of the arches on each side, were adorn’d with hieroglyphicks, which contain’d the history, as well as an account of the worship, of the gods in the pantheon. Here were perform’d every night, from ten till two, several sorts of sacrifices and ceremonies; at which were present all the inhabitants of those lower mansions, even the prisoners of the Field of Tears, as well as those who had fail’d in the trials of the initiation, the priests and priestesses of the upper house, when they would, provided they did not neglect their common functions elsewhere, the greater part of the initiates, and the new initiate and his guide the three last days of the manifestation.

As these nocturnal ceremonies began before the end of the natural day, they first offer’d their devotions to those divinities to whom the day was consecrated. Most of them had their peculiar victims; and they even knew the several sorts of wood which they were to use, either to burn the victim whole, or some parts of it⁠[68]⁠. The wood was set on fire, according to the different dignities of the gods; either by the sun-beams, brought thither by means of a parabolical glass, as the sacred fire of the vestals, or by the sparks from a flint struck by a steel; or lastly, by the flames of a lamp. The Greeks and Romans adopted these niceties, and carry’d them so far as to observe the difference of fountains from whence they drew the water to extinguish the fire with which the victim was consum’d. As in Egypt they have no other water but that of the Nile, they made use of that only in their sacrifices; but they fetch’d it every day out of the great channel of that river for the use of the pantheon. This, perhaps, gave occasion to those authors whom Diodorus follow’d, to say, that three hundred and twenty priests of Memphis brought every day water out of the Nile the distance of several furlongs.

Some of these deities had only sacrificing priests, and others none but priestesses. But at midnight the sacrificing priest for the day, follow’d by two lines of priests, came out of the last arch towards the bottom of the temple, on the side of the Elysian fields, and went into the sanctuary to the statue of Isis. They were accompany’d by a great chorus of musick form’d by other priests, priestesses, and even their children of both sexes, and of all ages from nine years upwards. When the sacrificing priest was come to the statue, the two lines of priests stopp’d, and made room for the offering which follow’d to pass betwixt them. And here the truth of the historical fact obliges me to say, that this offering was carry’d by priests daughters, to the number of eighteen, two and two, naked, and having each a basket of fruit, or other presents, according to the season. These girls began this office at thirteen, and continued it till their marriage. The sacrificing priest receiv’d and emptied all these baskets upon a great square altar, on the foot of which was this inscription; which being copy’d from the Egyptian upon a marble, is yet to be seen in a temple of Capua⁠[69]⁠. Te, tibi, una, quæ es omnia, Dea Isis. That is, We offer thee to thyself, thou only and universal deity, goddess Isis. The maidens who brought the offering, retired behind the sanctuary, and the priests went into it, to accomplish the ceremonies, which lasted near two hours, always accompany’d with the sound of voices and instruments. These ceremonies differ’d in the four seasons, as did the hymns, which were the subject of their musick; many of which were afterwards sung in the superior temple, and from thence came into the mouth of every Egyptian, for the beauty of their verses and tunes, which were sometimes heighten’d by novelty.

These were the mysteries of Isis; the secrecy of which made them so respected in the flourishing ages of Egypt; and which having been reveal’d during the confusion of wars, and the oppression of conquerors, have serv’d as an example or pretext for that licentiousness which has since spread itself over the temples of Greece and Italy. By all the memoirs that have come to my hands it plainly appears, that the priests and assistants in antient Egypt never made an ill use of what pass’d before their eyes in the Pantheon. Orpheus has express’d the discretion they were ty’d down to on this head by the awfulness of the place, under the image of Tantalus standing in the midst of water, but not being able to drink. Lycurgus, carrying his ideas yet farther, suppos’d that wisdom which reign’d in Egypt throughout the whole sacerdotal order, in which no instance has been known of any disorder arising from a passion for women, was owing to their seeing them in this manner naked every day. And this it was made him establish in his republick the luctations or wrestlings at which the youth of both sexes perform’d their exercises naked in the sight of the whole world. He said, the Lacedemonian women were deck’d in the circus by the publick modesty, from what he had heard the priests in Egypt say, that theirs were deck’d in the Pantheon with religious holiness. However, a long experience has convinc’d the wise of the truth of that sentence of the old Latin poet Ennius, who says, that nakedness expos’d to the eyes of the citizens, is the original source of all the disorders of a republick. Flagitii principium est nudare inter cives corpora. A very faint knowledge of the Greek and Roman history is sufficient to give us an idea of that shameful excess to which the first communication of the mysteries of Isis discover’d, carry’d those nations. The Egyptians themselves, fallen from their pristine austerity, had introduc’d into the temples, which they were allow’d to erect out of Egypt, and especially at Rome, such an extravagant licentiousness, that the senate made several decrees to abolish those temples they call’d Memphitick. Popular superstition, supported by a habitude rooted in debauchery, had render’d these decrees of no effect, till the consul Paulus Emilius himself took an ax, and began the demolition of them. These temples were re-establish’d under the dictatorship of Sylla, and destroy’d again by the consul C. Calpurnius Pison⁠[70]⁠. The emperors, successors of Augustus, rebuilt them, or pull’d them down, according as they prov’d enemies or fathers of their country; and the vigilance of that most holy and pious prince Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, who now governs the world with as much wisdom as glory, has enough to do to prevent these infamous practices from being restor’d every day in some part or other.

Sethos, to omit nothing, enter’d, after the sacrifice of the last day of the manifestation, thro’ one of the western porches of the Pantheon into that walk, which ran along the bottoms of the pyramids; and having found the iron grates which bounded it on the northern side, he had the satisfaction of touching it on the inside, as he had done without, when he was with Amedes at the bottom of the well of the pyramid. By that, he in some manner bore testimony to himself, that he had happily accomplish’d the painful and perilous course of the initiation. He lay, however, that night, according to custom, in the subterranean mansions; while preparation was making against the next day for the magnificent procession, which they call’d, The great Isiack Pomp, or, The Triumph of the Initiate.

The evening before, six officers of the second order appear’d on horseback before the king’s palace, which, as we have already said, was opposite to the temple at the other end of the square: and there they proclaim’d by sound of trumpet, that the next day a new initiate would appear. They afterwards made the same proclamation in every street of the city thro’ which the procession was to pass. They did not mention the initiate’s name, but they declar’d him to be an Egyptian. For with regard to foreign initiates, the proclamation was only made at the gate of the temple; because the procession, which was not near so pompous, went only round it. This was always agreeable news to the kings, who believ’d they thereby gain’d a faithful servant upon all occasions. But it was yet a greater joy to the people, who look’d upon the Egyptian initiates as wise mediators between the king and them, and as powerful protectors about his person. As many years generally pass’d without their attaining so great an advantage, the rarity of it enhanced the value, and inspired every one with an earnest desire to see this ceremony. Upon this particular occasion the dispositions of the court were alter’d. They had then no suspicion there that the new initiate was Sethos. Every one thought him out of Memphis, and some even believ’d him out of Egypt: and besides, considering the corruption of manners, and meanness of sentiments in which the greater part of the courtiers were plung’d, they look’d back to the age of fables for those heroick times when kings or sons of kings were candidates for the initiation. Sesostris, who was initiated at Thebes, was the last king of Egypt, who had the ambition to aim at this dignity. And thus the queen, in imitation of those mothers who think they have taken great care of their children, when they forbid them all exercises that require resolution and courage, did not fail, when she heard the news, to observe to the ladies about her, that if she knew one of her sons should desire to be initiated, she would soon prevent it: and the judicious company was very much dispos’d to applaud her. As for the king, as he did not meddle with the affairs of state, and only employ’d his servants in his amusements; he was very little affected with the merit of the initiation, and propos’d to himself no other satisfaction in it, but the pleasure of seeing this pomp pass under the windows of the palace.

The whole night was employ’d in adorning the inside of the temple with whatever the priests had most magnificent in their treasury; and the citizens of Memphis prepar’d the streets, and embellish’d the outsides of their houses with their most precious moveables. A little after sun-rising, the temple was open’d to the people, and in the middle of the sanctuary they saw the tabernacle of Isis, which was brought up from the subterranean temple. It was a large coffer, cover’d with a veil of white silk, embroider’d with hieroglyphicks in gold, over which was a black gauze, to signify the secret of the mysteries of the goddess. Before the procession mov’d, they offer’d a sacrifice to her; during which, the daughters of the priests, who never appear’d abroad but on the festivals of Isis, danc’d, by turns, grave dances to the sound of instruments alone. Immediately afterwards the march began towards the city. The six officers, who had proclaim’d the ceremony, went first, sounding their trumpets from time to time; and two lines of guards of the same order march’d on each side of the procession, the whole length of it. Of the four classes of priests, the mathematicians, the physicians, and the lawyers went first, preceded by their children in the same order, and in the same habits as themselves. All the priests wore a black robe under a tunick of fine linnen; but over the tunick, the three first classes of the procession wore robes of blue, violet or red; of which one part cover’d their heads. Between the two lines march’d, one by one, priests, whom they call’d Pastophores: instead of robes, they had cloaks of the colour of their class; and they carry’d the books of Mercury, from whence they borrow’d their sciences⁠[71]⁠.

After this first part of the procession, came a priest of the first class in a black cloak, who carry’d in both hands the famous Isiack table, resting upon his breast; it was of copper, but border’d and travers’d with plates of silver, upon which were engraven the emblems of the mysteries of Isis, represented by the figures of men and women, standing or sitting, and of which some had the heads of beasts⁠[72]⁠. He was follow’d by the daughters of the priests, clad in tunicks of fine linnen, over robes of the colour of their fathers class, and having over their tunicks a sort of scarfs, each of a different colour, embroider’d with gold, with golden tufts, and fasten’d on their left shoulders with a precious stone. They were dress’d in their hair with tufts of herons feathers, and adorn’d with ear-rings, necklaces of pearls, and bracelets of an inestimable value. They form’d four lines, and went arm by arm, two and two. The priestesses, who were governesses, went in the middle, cloath’d all in black, excepting their tunicks; and on the sides of these extraordinary beauties, which were but seldom seen, the guards were doubled. By the bare description of Apulieus, we find that even other women, who were initiated to Isis, since the devastation of Egypt, have taken the place of these damsels in such sorts of processions, at which even the other priestesses did not assist before. After these damsels, came a very great choir of musick, compos’d of priests and their children, who proclaim’d the approach of the tabernacle of Isis. It was carry’d on the shoulders of eight priests: but immediately preceding it, went maidens of the second order, clad in habits of white woollen, very fine, and adorn’d with flowers, who having citterns and tabors in their hands, danc’d before the tabernacle a sort of light dances; the imitation of which the Greeks have carry’d too far in their Orgies. Others of these maidens, who went on each side, burnt perfumes; the smoke of which surrounding the tabernacle, it seem’d to be always in a cloud. The high-priest walk’d alone after the tabernacle. He was cloath’d in white under his tunick; and over it with a purple robe lin’d with ermin; the train of which was carry’d by two children of the second order. He had a sort of mitre on, peculiar to him alone, and he only had the augural staff, which all other priests bore in his absence. He was follow’d by the priests of the first class, or interpreters of the sacred literature, whose books were likewise carry’d by Pastophores. Two among them carry’d a pole on their shoulders, upon which was plac’d the augural or divinitory urn; it was cover’d by an astrolable, a quadrant and a compass. For tho’ astrology was more in use at Thebes than in the other temples, astronomical instruments were every where the symbols of divination. All the priests of this class were cloath’d, under and above their white tunicks, in black. The antientest went nearest the tabernacle. So, contrary to the order of the three first classes, they were follow’d by their children, the two lines of which were clos’d by the four prefects of education. Here, properly speaking, the Isiack pomp ended. It was seen upon other occasions, but had never been so numerous, and so magnificent as on this.

The last part of the procession, or the triumph of the initiate, had a military appearance, even with regard to those who were not warriors; because it was suppos’d, that they defended their country in their way: and besides, the initiates were indifferently of every profession for the service of the king and of the publick. At the head of the second interval, appear’d, under the sound of fifes and kettle-drums, three standards flying. The first bore the symbol of the kingdom of Memphis, which was the Ox Apis; the second that of Egypt, which was a sphynx; and third that of the whole world, which was a serpent, biting his tail, in the form of a circle. This was to signify the order according to which the initiate devoted himself to the service of mankind. The initiates appear’d next; they were but few in number in every nome: and those who had any employs, either in war, or in the provinces, did not quit them to be at this ceremony. However, if there were any initiates of another nome, they had their places here according to the order of their reception, for all the initiates of Egypt made but one body. They march’d one by one in their usual habits, that is, in a vest of fine linnen which reach’d but to their knees, and which they never went without; and over their vest was the robe of their dignity or function: on the side of them, and out of the rank, went the foreign initiates, if there were any in Egypt: and thus it was that Orpheus assisted at the triumph of Sethos. According to this order it often happen’d that generals and even princes, who were younger in the initiation, gave place to mere citizens.

At last appear’d the new initiate, having at his right-hand the youngest of the priests, and at his left the eldest of the initiates. For this first day he was cloathed only in a white tunick, with a train trailing after him of the length of his body: Over it he had a shoulder-belt, white border’d with black, at which hung a sword; the hilt of which was only of steel: instead of a girdle, he had a fire-colour’d scarf, embroider’d with gold: He had a chaplet of myrtle on his head, and in his hand he held a large branch of palm, as the symbol of peace: His head was cover’d with a white veil, which fell over his face and breast, thro’ which he could see enough to walk by, but which hinder’d every body from knowing him. Behind him follow’d a triumphal chariot, drawn by four horses in front. Four virtues held a triumphal crown over the empty seat; and images of the vices enslav’d, border’d all the circumference of the footboard. This chariot was, excepting some symbols, like to that in which generals made their entries into the chief cities of Egypt, at their return from any signal victory. But the initiate never went into his; to shew that he did not aspire even to those exterior honours which his great actions might merit. In this ceremony the initiate had at all times been receiv’d with great acclamations of the people. But the extravagance and injustice of Daluca’s administration, made the hopes of some relief of yet greater concern to all the inhabitants of Memphis. Flowers and sweet essences were scatter’d in abundance on the initiate from the windows and streets. No musick was ever so affecting as the concert of benedictions they bestow’d upon him. It was for this reason, though the joy had been less at other times, that the initiate always went veil’d; that he might apply no part of these transports of publick affection to himself, and that he might, on the contrary, suppose they were only due to the high esteem had for a body, whose examples he was hereby taught to follow, and whose glory he was encourag’d to maintain.

Sethos, after having in this manner made a circuit of a great part of the city, came to the square, in which was the king’s palace. The king, the queen, and a croud of courtiers waited their coming, in a long balcony, adorn’d with rich tapestry. Osoroth, who by nature was good, seem’d to take part in these rejoicings, as the acclamations proclaim’d their approach. As far as he could see the last division of this pomp, and above all, when he discover’d the head of the initiate, which was at least equal to the tallest, he felt a soft commotion, which immediately rais’d in the queen, who was an enemy to all good, a very lively jealousy: But her confusion was sensibly increas’d, when the initiate ascended a high scaffold, erected according to custom, before the balcony of the palace. Here he kneel’d down on a cushion, and made a profound reverence to the king. Then rising, he drew his sword, as offering it for his service. At this action, which the young prince perform’d with a wonderful grandeur and noble air, Osoroth, almost with tears in his eyes, stoop’d, and stretch’d out his arms as to embrace this initiate. He then turn’d to the right and to the left, to inspire every one with that tender admiration with which he himself was pierc’d. The people, encourag’d by this example, vented thousands of joyful acclamations address’d to the king. They wish’d him to be their master, and to continue so during a long course of life. At the same time they fix’d their eyes upon the queen in a manner, which tho’ no otherwise insulting, than in their secret intentions, she however perfectly comprehended. This lady, who, in compliance to the king, was oblig’d to conceal that real rage, which gnawed her very soul, under a forc’d smile, was for a long time the object, not only of the people, but even of the courtiers, who detested her, tho’ they were become her slaves. But her disorder was yet infinitely greater, when the initiate was gone down from the scaffold, and return’d to the temple, holding in one hand his naked sword, and in the other his branch of palm crossing one another. For the king took this occasion to ask the queen after his son, who, he said, had the same shape and gaite as the initiate. He added, that he wish’d it had been Sethos, and that he should think it a happiness in his old age to have a son who might deserve so great an honour. The queen, who was confirm’d in her belief of Sethos being absent, because she did not see Amedes among the initiates, inform’d the king of the journey for which Sethos and Amedes had desir’d leave three months before. The king took it ill she had not acquainted him with it. He even said, if she had inform’d him of it, he should not have been so long absent, but have been back again time enough to have seen a triumph which would have stirr’d up his emulation. But the hour of Osoroth’s conversion was not yet come, and he had more violent shocks than that to suffer before he could be awak’d out of his lethargy; or rather, the present object, which always affected this prince, soon gave way to other impressions.

In the mean time the initiate being enter’d into the temple, ascended a very high throne. The uppermost step was large enough to hold three or four people together. Two officers of the second order follow’d him thither, and drew two large curtains before them. While certain hymns were singing below, which explain’d, in the nature of a prophecy, those benefits which might be expected from an initiate of illustrious birth, Sethos put on his common habit over his white vest; and in about half an hour, the curtains being drawn away, discover’d him to the people, with which the temple was crouded. The acclamations were doubled at the sight of him, and the news was instantly carry’d to the king. The queen, who was present, was cast into an excess of despair, which she was oblig’d then to dissemble, but which will soon produce very fatal effects. In the mean time they had further information, that Sethos was to stay the remainder of the day and the ensuing night in the college of the priests; where there were to be great rejoicings on account of his reception.

BOOK V.

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

The next morning Sethos and Amedes went to the palace to the king’s levee. Osoroth, in the presence of several of the grandees who were in his apartments, receiv’d his son with open arms. He thank’d Amedes for having procur’d him the advantage of the initiation; and he told the young prince, that the war which the kings of Thebes and This had but then jointly declar’d against the kingdom of Memphis, would soon give him an opportunity of employing his sword, which he had devoted to his service at the ceremony of the foregoing day. After a conversation which ran wholly upon general topicks, the king seeming inclin’d to be alone, Sethos retir’d. He was follow’d by the courtiers, who thought things would soon take another turn at court, and that Sethos would have a great share in the distribution of military employs.

The queen in the mean time had form’d a new plan of politicks, which she propos’d to follow. Her chief aim, to which every thing was to be subservient, was the destruction of Sethos; and the disposition towards a war, which, ’till then, she had been disquieted at, was thought of service for the execution of her design. Among other things, she resolv’d to let the return of the king’s inclination to his son take its free course, and particularly not to interrupt the general tendency of the court, and of every order of the kingdom to court the favour of Sethos. This trial lasted about a fortnight, during which time, however, she carefully kept on her side the secrets of the state, and the key of the treasures destin’d for the expence of the war. None of the officers of the army were yet named. At the expiration of this term, she pitch’d upon a moment she thought the most favourable to succeed in a private conference she had desir’d with the king.

My lord, said she, you have had time to make trial of the consequences which may attend the too signal marks of confidence in a king to his son, the heir to his crown, to whom a whole kingdom adheres, as their future and undoubted master. You already see the court of prince Sethos more frequented than your own; and the people, flatter’d only with the hopes of his reign, shew a more fervent affection for him, than you perhaps found in them for your own person when you first ascended the throne. It is in vain we pretend to dispute this privilege to youth, if we once suffer them to take advantage of it. But I dare affirm, that the art of government prescribes very different maxims. Witness, my lord, your royal father, who possess’d this art to a degree beyond any of his predecessors. You know in what manner the great Sesonchis behav’d with regard to you; I won’t say to the age of sixteen, which is that of the prince your son, but to the age of fifty, at which your reign began. During so long a guardianship he never imparted any of his designs to you; and twice or thrice when he, at your sollicitation, suffer’d you to give proofs of your valour in war, it was barely in the character of a voluntier; and he always named his generals to his own mind, even for those expeditions in which you serv’d in person. In the mean time you never aspir’d, without his knowledge, to titles eminent and proper to win and seduce the people, such as is that of an initiate. I don’t, however, impute to the young prince a design which is far above the reach of his age, and which shews us in him an example of an initiate of sixteen years, not to be parallell’d in our histories. The only author of this project is Amedes, a man of a dangerous virtue, who leaves no stone unturn’d to be reinstated in the ministry, in order to weaken that sovereign authority in you, which I exercise in your name. I know it is through his intrigues that the king of This, who had not before joyn’d the king of Thebes, has taken up arms against you. The latter is only induc’d to war by an ancient jealousy of the kings of Thebes against the kings of Memphis, and he makes no other demands but that of some places which he pretends belong to his frontiers. But the king of This, as brother to the late queen Nephte, and uncle to prince Sethos, presumes to concern himself with the affairs of your state. Under the colour of the chimerical designs he imputes to me, he has the assurance, at the instigation of Amedes, to demand of you, that a greater regard than hitherto be had to the young prince at Memphis, during your life-time. It is my duty, my lord, to inform you of these conspiracies, which are forming, as well within as out of your dominions, against your sovereign power. It is your fault if they be not stifled in their birth; but I can’t go about it effectually without your approbation.

The king, who seem’d himself to have acquir’d a greatness of soul and a more elevated mind upon the initiation of his son, answer’d Daluca: That he approv’d her care for whatever concern’d the authority of his government: But at the bottom, added he, in the disposition the late king, my father, left the minds of his subjects, I find I have power sufficient, and all that is wanting is a due management of it for the good of my kingdom, and the security of my people. Besides, added he, the universal and constant testimony of all men, and even of all my predecessors, won’t suffer me to entertain any mistrust of the initiates. Sesonchis himself, whose example you alledge, and who understood mankind better than any prince in the world, made use of Amedes, during the whole course of his reign, in the most secret and difficult occurrences, and seem’d always perfectly satisfy’d with his conduct. Amedes always declining the office of prime minister has been the only reason why I burthen’d the late queen and you with the weight of this office. In effect Osoroth, judging of others by himself, and only reflecting upon the cares and fatigues of the administration, did not so much as think what might be, at least for persons of a certain rank, an object of desire and ambition. You may remember, continued he, that at your entrance upon the administration I advis’d you to Amedes as an assistant, and I should advise you to it with more earnestness at this time, when the cares of an approaching war seem to me more perplexing to a person of your sex; but that I would not have Amedes be absent from my son in the first campaign he is going to make. I don’t propose, however, to give my son, for his first trial, the command of my troops. On the contrary, Amedes shall make him pass thro’ every degree of military service, and the prince shall begin by obeying those, over whom he will soon command. I therefore expect you give me a list of the chief officers who are to serve in this war, and especially the name of him you design for general: for it is time we go to meet the enemy. Daluca answer’d; That tho’ she herself had continued to provide for the frontiers, she, as well as the whole court, had believ’d, for a fortnight past, that the king, in conjunction with Sethos, would make choice of proper commanders. But, as it was not so, she would the next morning bring him a list of the general officers for his approbation, and that then they should depart without delay.

The queen had at that time the list about her, with a design of shewing it to the king at the conclusion of this conference. But this prince had by his answers put her so far besides her measures, and seem’d so little sensible of the fears she thought to surprize him with, and so easy with regard to those she intended to render suspected, that she had not the courage at that time to offer him a list of men according to the humour of her new-modell’d court, and consequently without virtue or merit. The old officers, who were yet living, were not indeed remov’d, but all the vacancies were fill’d up with young men, who were the most devoted to those ladies who had taken them off from their military exercises, or at least who had made them return, as soon as it was in their power, from those expeditions of little moment, which had offer’d since Daluca’s administration. The general she had nominated was a man of thirty years of age, more fitting to distinguish himself in war by his pride and presumption, than by his prudence and valour. Full of ambition, which wanted virtue for its support, he sought more the envy than the esteem of other men, and being a slave to Daluca, set as great a value upon her spirit of intrigue, as her quality of a queen. The difficulty was to make him acceptable to the king in the new circumstance of the change which seem’d to appear in him, and above all of the concern he had to take to place his son in an army made up of good troops and experienc’d commanders. However, she was under an absolute necessity of having a general of this character to impart her designs to: She employ’d the night following to fortify herself with resolution and assurance to employ her utmost influence to get this general confirm’d. She knew very well, that by this choice she put the affairs of the kingdom in some danger: but she argu’d within herself, that being rid of Sethos, and remaining mother to the second successor to the throne, every thing would turn in her favour.

The next morning she accosted the king with her table-book in her hand: My lord, said she, I have taken care to preserve those officers who have gain’d the greatest reputation in the service of the late king your father, in their several stations. You may, perhaps, think the general I have nam’d something young; but, not to mention his other qualities, what I esteem the most in him, and what the late king sought the most in all his generals, is his assiduous and constant dependance upon the orders of the court. You, my lord, without stirring out of your closet, ought to be, like the great Sesonchis, the real and only commander of your armies. Your officers of war have no other interest but to give proofs of their valour, and to obtain testimonies of their zeal and service: but you alone know how far your army is to be hazarded, and your enemy to be pursued. I therefore think it my duty to propose a general to you who will be led by your views, and who has no other motives than those you shall give him. If this caution be at all times necessary, it is by so much the more so in a war to which you send a son, whose preservation is, without doubt, your chief care. In my opinion, those men are not to be entrusted with youth, who by being accustom’d to danger, are not apprehensive of it, who take no counsel but of their valour, and wait for no order but opportunity. The king, being become somewhat haughty with regard to Daluca, interrupted her, by saying, that with such a preamble she might recommend to him the meanest soldier in the army. That in the mean time he knew that experience, valour, and sometimes even the temerity of a general was the real security of an army. But to conclude, added he, let us see the choice you have made. The king, as soon as he had cast his eyes upon the name of this person, who was called Thoris, said to the queen; Madam, I am very apprehensive that the zeal of my ancient officers will very much abate, when they find themselves oblig’d to serve under a general yet more inferior to the greater part of them in birth and merit, than in age. But it is at your risque he is going to the field. I give up this first campaign, which, in my judgment, will hardly be decisive, to your ministry. The success will shew you whether your ease and happiness depend upon your own counsels and administration; or whether you ought not to put as well your own interest, as that of the state, into other hands. As for my son, he shall have no other commander but Amedes, who himself shall have none; and they shall join such bodies of troops as they shall chuse, on such occasions, and for the time they shall judge expedient.

Osoroth had hitherto experienc’d only such wars as were without danger, and tended only to enlarge or lessen the frontiers a few leagues, and which, never shaking the fate of a kingdom, seem only carry’d on to keep the officers and soldiers in action. So he thought he might very well entrust the queen with the management of this, and that he had sufficiently provided for the safety of his son, by exempting him from the commands of a general he had no good opinion of. He thereby fell into the error of those who don’t prevent distant evils, imagining that they know the just extent of them, and can set bounds to them at will. The queen therefore, finding she had the power, at least once more, to pursue her own measures, made this her indiscreet choice publick. All well-wishers to the state were uneasy at it; but it was an alleviation to their sorrow, when they foresaw, that, at the expence of some batallions or forts, bad success, more powerful than men, or even princes, would necessarily bring on Daluca’s fall.

The new general, notwithstanding the troops march’d with all possible diligence, had time to make the streets and houses of Memphis ring with his pride and joy. His litter, borne by slaves in accoutrements of war, carry’d an air of triumph; he stil’d himself a Hero; and he told every one in express terms, that the dignity conferr’d on him did not so much affect him, as the obliging manner in which it was done. The queen, indeed, that he might be the more sensible of the value of his employ, had not at first given him the uneasiness she herself had gone thro’, when she propos’d him to the king. But the evening before his departure she took him in private, and told him what repugnance the king had shewn on his account. He talk’d of you, said she, as if he had been inspir’d by Amedes, Sethos, and the whole body of the initiates. Their principles are so differing from ours, that we ought not to wonder if they are our enemies, as we are theirs. My influence, however, has obtain’d your nomination, but you are not to suppose it so advantageous as it seem’d to be when I first laid the design. That was in the absence of Sethos, when there was some appearance, that he, seeing me queen with an unbounded authority, and fearing that his younger brothers were preferr’d to him in his father’s favour, had chosen to retreat out of Egypt, or was gone in search of adventures in foreign countries. Then you would have had the command of armies for your life, and my eldest son, who is but seven years of age, educated in my sight, and with my views, would have confirm’d you in that command during the whole course of his reign. The case is now very different. I don’t mean because the king has exempted Sethos and Amedes from your command, and left them the choice of what troops they shall think fit to join with, and of the enterprizes they shall judge expedient to engage in. This exemption is at least so far to your advantage, that you are not answerable for the hazards they will expose themselves to. But what I plainly perceive to your disadvantage, is, that immediately after the trial of this first campaign, the king will give the command of his troops to prince Sethos. If this should happen, you will necessarily, by reason of your age, be degraded to the meanest posts in the army, from which I have with pleasure rais’d you. Don’t so much as hope that I will employ my credit for your support. As soon as Sethos is at the head of the army, I shall disengage myself from a ministry divided in itself. The loss won’t be great to me: I shall remain queen, and the mother of two of the king’s children; but I lament the lot of those whose fortune is dependant on mine, and whom, however, I shall then strictly resolve to abandon.

Thoris, after having been a while silent, said, Madam, what you do me the honour to tell me, opens my eyes. Your goodness in concerning yourself for my interest, teaches me, that it is my duty to be thoughtful of yours, which is inseparable from that of the state. Your administration has restor’d it to all the glory it shone with under the great Sesonchis; and it shall be a law to me to undertake whatever can secure to you that authority you are so just in the administration of. In vain our two greatest enemies are exempt from the general command of the army. If a profound reflection can furnish any expedient; if a continual attention can enable me to lay hold of some of those opportunities, the seeming hazard of which will remove all suspicion, I hope to make myself worthy of your choice. The good or bad disposal of things, a victory or the loss of a battle, the obedience or disobedience of your particular commands, may be of equal service to you. Say no more, reply’d the queen, remember only, that, in bold enterprizes, delay is generally more dangerous than a ready execution; and go with me to take leave of the king this instant. The king, at the first sight of this officer, only turning his head towards him, inform’d him, that he had exempted his son and Amedes from the command he was going to exercise over his troops. He added, that it was the queen who employ’d him, and that he wish’d he might answer the choice she had made of him. After which, continuing his discourse to the ancient officers who were about him, he told them, that after this campaign they would have the pleasure of serving under his son only. Upon this cold reception, the queen retiring into her closet, order’d Thoris to follow her, as if to give him his last instructions. There, laying aside all disguise in their discourse, they form’d the black design, which the approaching campaign was to furnish the means to, and at the same time to conceal.

The general rendezvous for the troops was in the neighbourhood of Coptos, a conquest of the late king’s, which the enemy then threaten’d with a siege. This city was actually in the ancient division of the kings of Thebes. It was even become, by their care and labours, one of the greatest trading cities of Egypt. For they had caus’d a great road to be made, with inns at proper distances, from Coptos, cross the sands of the Egyptian Arabia, to that maritime city of the Arabian gulph, to which Ptolemy Philadelphus, after having embellish’d it, gave the name of his mother Berenice. From Memphis to Thebes, a distance of above one hundred leagues, there were an hundred stages or stables, of which Diodorus makes mention, each for two hundred horses, to dispatch the king’s orders, and likewise for the convenience of travellers. But the temples, palaces, sepulchres of all sorts, colossal statues and obelisks, which appear’d to view, upon leaving the Panopolitan Nome to enter the Coptite, were of themselves sufficient evidences, that the latter, of which Coptos was the capital, had time out of mind been a province of the Dynasty of Thebes. As magnificent as all the kings of Egypt had been in the publick monuments they had erected in different parts of their kingdoms; none of all the other kings, not excepting even those of Memphis, had near come up to the kings of Thebes in this regard. The great number of quarries, of stones, marble, and porphyry, of which the Upper Egypt is full towards the south, had furnish’d them with materials, and their immense riches had enabled them to make use of them. The nearer Thebes, the more numerous were these surprizing objects; which form’d on every side of this famous capital, since call’d Diospolis, avenues so stately, tho’ seen at a great distance, that many have confounded them with the city itself. Thence it was that some have reckon’d Thebes four hundred and twenty furlongs, or seventeen leagues and an half long⁠[73]⁠, while others reckon but fourscore furlongs, or three leagues and one third⁠[74]⁠, which was the real length of the city, properly so call’d. From this same confusion other authors have said, that that part of Thebes, which was built on the east of the river, was extended very far on that side into the Egyptian Arabia, continued on the west of the river by the division of the Memnonium, and stretch’d towards the south to Syena under the tropick, which is near at forty leagues distance. This it was, in short, that made Homer call Thebes, the city with a hundred gates; a determin’d number which only signifies a great many, as Diodorus remarks. Another error into which the real bigness of this city has made some Greek authors fall, and which has more regard to our present subject, a war between Thebes and Memphis, is the number of fighting men Thebes could send into the field. They have been made to amount to a million⁠[75]⁠. But this number denotes either the inhabitants of Thebes, comprehending even the women; or the body of all the soldiers of the whole kingdom, their sons included. We find in some memoirs which were known to Pliny⁠[76]⁠, that the king could range three hundred thousand men in the subterraneous passages of Thebes, which belong’d to him, not to mention those appertaining to the priests, and march them out of the city without the knowledge of the citizens. That was, without doubt, the state of the militia of Thebes alone. Mephres, who reign’d there at the time we are now speaking of, propos’d to invest Coptos with two hundred thousand men, and to have another body of one hundred thousand men, under his own command, to cover the siege. But out of an air of magnificence, which the kings of Thebes, as ancient conquerors of nations, had always affected, Mephres had in his army foreign troops of western Arabians, and Troglodyte Ethiopians, which he himself had brought under his yoke; but to whom he had left their customs and accoutrements of war.

The queen of Memphis, on her part, having furnish’d the city with ammunition and provision, and plac’d a garrison of thirty thousand men in it, which was as many as the circumstances of the place requir’d, march’d likewise a defensive army of one hundred thousand men, commanded by Thoris. Amedes rejoic’d that there was a siege to be sustain’d in this first expedition of Sethos; because, having resolv’d to shut himself up with him in the city, the governor of which was a man of valour, and his friend, he thereby plac’d the prince out of the reach of his secret enemies. Before they left Memphis he advis’d him to put the casket, which the late queen, his mother, had given him at her death, into the hands of the priests; because the fate of man, especially when going to war, being uncertain, he would at least be sure, if he return’d, and whenever he return’d, of finding this resource, or the priests would employ the treasures of it in such a manner as he should direct them, in whatever part of the world he might be. This being done, Sethos departed with his governor three or four days after Thoris. But as Amedes would not extend the privilege of the young prince beyond the bounds the king had set, he carefully avoided whatever might have the appearance of a command. So Sethos was accompany’d only by Amedes, and the eight young lords his companions, who had desir’d leave to serve with him as voluntiers. They had each their slave. Sethos had one whose name was Asares, an Arabian by birth, as almost all those of his condition are, who, in the sequel of this history, has a very singular part to act. He was of the same age as the prince, and being of a very sprightly genius, had taken advantage of the exercises both of the body and mind, which were enjoin’d his master in the course of his education. Having seen the benefits of virtue, he had resolv’d to take upon him at least the appearance of it, and even to pursue it, if it could lead him to that pitch of fortune which was his true aim. The queen had for some time before made attempts to corrupt him: but, seeming not to understand her, he had imbib’d a maxim, that if he must be a traitor, it ought to be for his own interest, and not for that of others. Our voluntiers enter’d into Coptos above a month before the enemy was in a condition to form any attack.

Sethos was receiv’d by the inhabitants with an extreme joy, and he soon perceiv’d they were better pleas’d to be under the government of Memphis than that of Thebes, under which they were very fearful of returning. This fear had no regard to the kings, but to the priests, whom the kings of Thebes generally allow’d too great an authority over the people, which they abus’d by exercising a very troublesome inspection in the inmost recesses of families, and, under the pretext of honouring or appeasing the gods, burthening them with customs not only strict but severe, which made their own religion insupportable. Amedes took this opportunity of saying to Sethos: My lord, by your title of initiate you are hereafter above my instruction. But the uneasiness you observe in the inhabitants of Coptos, the subject of which you know, emboldens me to offer you yet an advice of importance, which was not proper for me to give you at another age, nor natural for you to receive from the mouth of the priests. All the morality, and all the virtue of a king consists in a just combination of piety towards the gods, and goodness to his subjects; so that his piety towards the gods is blind, when it is hurtful to human society; as his goodness to his people is pernicious, when it countenances in them an oblivion of the gods and their worship. According to this principle, it will not suffice that you are a religious man, you must likewise be a statesman. By uniting these two qualities it is, that giving a reasonable authority to those who are to keep up good manners and the exercise of religion in your kingdom, you will prevent their destroying liberty, quiet, and particularly the publick diversions. These diversions, kept within the bounds of decency, prevent real disorders in the people they engage, and being turn’d as much as possible to a moral advantage, they even keep up politeness, and all the civil virtues in the minds of the populace. A virtuous and wise prince winks sometimes at things in the publick which he won’t allow in himself. But moreover, it is good to know, that as the justice of the gods is not the justice of men; that is, that as the gods, tho’ infinitely just, do certain things which men could not do without injustice, so the virtue of a statesman, which ought to be greater than that of private persons, must not always be limited by that of private persons. Devotion, I say, even the least enlighten’d, is in this advantageous, that it keeps up a spirit of good manners in the people: but it must be govern’d, and never suffer’d to have the rule itself. It is allowable, and even praise-worthy to act with regard to ourselves upon principles of devotion, but with other men we ought never to act but by reason. Thus a prince ought, above all things, to avoid making his courtiers believe, that devotion will make them acceptable to him; because, instead of bringing them to this inward sentiment, which is not to be inspir’d, he leads them into hypocrisy, and thereby renders them more impious and wicked than they were before. A prince ought to go further, and prevent whatever may disturb the publick tranquillity under the pretence of devotion. Men full of a blind and scrupulous zeal, on whom no passion has more dominion than that of guiding others, ought themselves to be carefully watch’d by their prince; that after having troubled the minds of those of his weaker subjects who give ear to them, they don’t attempt to disturb common order among those who are not inclin’d to hear them. Don’t confound this sort of men with hypocrites, but look upon them as much more dangerous: for hypocrites do no more harm under the cloak of religion, than will turn to their advantage; whereas scrupulous persons are capable, by their obstinacy, of doing harm to themselves and others. But retain above all, my lord, what I presume yet to add to this advice. As much king as you will be, you will never be preferr’d before this sort of men in the minds of the people, but as far as you are regular in your own conduct, and just in all your proceedings. Without this caution, these avengers of their own cause, which they take always for that of the gods, will attribute every unlucky accident, which may happen during the course of your reign, to your want of piety and justice. On the contrary, if you are irreproachable with respect to yourself, and just towards your subjects, you will make the odium of that injustice, which always accompanies the reformations and impositions of the men I am speaking of, fall on their own head. I allow that this evil is less to be fear’d at Memphis, where, excepting in those cases in which religion is concern’d, the priests never meddle with the affairs of private persons, but when they apply to them. There are none in all Egypt who better unite their piety towards the gods with their goodness towards men: and you know how much they recommend humanity and beneficence to those who have a superiority over others. The initiates of Thebes, tho’ full of honour and courage, have always been more rigid in victories, and less forbearing in their vengeance than those of Memphis. In a word, the priests of Thebes establish religion by severity, and those of Memphis by indulgence. By this the latter have made themselves famous and respected throughout the whole world; while the others, by their characters, can be agreeable but to very few, and do likewise much less good in their generation. Tho’ religion is not dependant upon kings, and they ought not so much as to concern themselves with it, they have a great share in the exterior rites of it; and the tranquillity of their subjects is always their care. The kings of Thebes, who have not pursued these maxims, have suffer’d a power to devolve upon the priests, which has often been of great prejudice to the state, and which even to this day is vexatious to themselves. Not to mention the general alienation in the minds of men, occasion’d by the severity of their priests, an example of which you see here in Coptos; their history relates, that the ancient Amosis, an initiate of Thebes, the same who had the glory of abolishing human victims throughout all Egypt, gave so much liberty to the superstitious zeal of the Theban priests, that they drove out of the capital only, fourscore thousand persons, who could no longer bear up under the insupportable burden of ceremonies, which they impos’d upon them. Even to this day, now they are much milder, they take upon them to go at will into the most private apartments of the palace: and whereas in other dynasties, the priests make use of this privilege but as favourites, at Thebes they do it as inspectors; and the king has only the chamber of his nuptial bed, and that where the council of state assembles, free from them.

However, to quit this moralizing, which may begin to be tedious to you, I have already been thinking, my lord, to let you take advantage of this prerogative of the Theban priests for another use. Kings and princes can’t always travel with safety in foreign countries: but as an Egyptian initiate, all the priests of Egypt are oblig’d, at your first demand, to shew you all the curiosities of their sacerdotal Nome. They alone have the keys of this great number of publick monuments, which are tombs. They can go almost every where, from one to the other, by subterraneous communications, tho’ at several leagues distance. With the priests of Thebes you may go as far as Syena and the Lesser Cataract. You may visit as much as you please of the kingdom, and enter even into the king’s palace, without either he, or any of his officers, knowing that you are in his dominions. The people of Coptos themselves will only believe you to be in the temple of Isis, which is beyond the morass that defends one of its gates, and by which you will begin your private excursion. It is true, you won’t pass thro’ the streets or publick squares, nor will you see hardly any thing of the cities and the buildings which are in and about them, but what you may discover from the tops of the temples, or the windows of the sacerdotal colleges. It is likewise true, that in this journey you will gain no knowledge for the service of the state; for besides the rigid silence the priests will observe with you on this head, agreeable to the laws of justice and honour, they will bind you by an oath never to make use, as an enemy, of what you will see as an initiate. However, as whole years would hardly be sufficient to observe all these wonderful works, and as in appearance the siege of Coptos will be form’d within a month; I believe, my lord, it will be proper for you to confine yourself to a slight view of the Memnonium of Thebes, the city of Syena, and the neighbouring Cataract, which is the most remarkable; contenting yourself this time with what you may take a cursory view of in your passage, and with the answers the priests will give to your questions. I make your journey of mere curiosity by so much the shorter, as I extremely desire you may view the observatory of Thebes at your leisure, and have an opportunity of discoursing upon the subject of astronomy with the priests there, who, beyond dispute, exceed the whole world in that science. To this end I have already recommended you to two of the most noted priests, with whom I have had a friendly correspondence since I last resided in Thebes; they will continually attend you. But I believe in your absence, which they have fix’d to three weeks, it will be proper for me to supply your room in Coptos, that I may answer the king, your father, when he may desire to hear concerning you. During this time I will observe with assiduity, as well the interior and exterior of the place, as the preparations for the siege, that, at your return, I may with greater ease make you thoroughly acquainted with the actions we can enter upon when the attacks are form’d.

Sethos answer’d Amedes, that tho’ he could gladly have had him as a companion, and even as a counsellor, on this journey, yet he approv’d of his wisdom in the measures he had taken. That he was therefore ready to depart that very hour, to be surer of returning before the siege began. Amedes led the prince immediately to the sacerdotal college of Coptos. There he confided him to the care of the two priests, who convey’d him to the temple of Isis in one of their own boats, which, as all other conveniencies of the priests for travelling either by water or land in Egypt, was free, even in time of war, not only from all attacks, but from every visitation.

As short time as Sethos employ’d in taking a slight view of the curiosities, either exterior or subterraneous, of the Theban Nome; a fear of being tedious to the reader will make me yet more concise in the description of them. Sethos being arriv’d at Thebes saw the four chief temples of the city⁠[77]⁠, the ancientest of which was a miracle for its bulk and beauty. It was thirteen furlongs, or more than half a league in circumference, seventy feet high, and the wall twenty-four feet in thickness. All the ornaments of the temple, as well for the richness of the materials, as exquisite workmanship, was equal to the magnificence of the building, of which some part is yet standing. But the gold, silver, ivory, and precious stones were pillag’d when Cambyses set fire to all the temples of Egypt. Then it was that the Persians, transporting all these treasures into Asia, and carrying likewise Egyptian workmen with them, built the famous palaces of Persepolis, Susa, and some other of their cities. Of forty-seven tombs of their kings, which embellish’d Thebes or the neighbourhood of it, Diodorus only describes that of Ismandes or Osimanduus, which was call’d the Memnonium; this Ismandes or Osimanduus being no other than Mendes or Memnon, one of the successors of Sesostris. This sepulchre was six thousand two hundred and fifty feet in circumference. The inside of it was divided into several apartments, all differing one from the other. An account of them is agreeably given in this author; and Sethos view’d them all with admiration.

After having visited the Memnonium, the two priests, as they had agreed with Amedes, carry’d the young prince immediately to Syena, a place not so remarkable in itself, as for the way leading to it. This way was the more charming as it was not regularly border’d on the sides, like a street, with palaces in a strait line: But the prospect of a fine champian country was every moment broken off by stately edifices, plac’d at unequal distances one from the other. But to say the truth, this continuation of Thebes divided itself on the right and on the left of the river into several towns which had their particular names; as Hermonthis, Tuphium, Latopolis, Elythia, Apollinopolis the Great, the Ombes, and lastly Syena. To give Sethos an idea of these places, the two priests, designing to return with him by private passages, continued always in the high-road; but he was with them in one of their cover’d chariots, with thin curtains round it, which they could draw back at pleasure, and thro’ which they could see without being seen. They made him observe at a distance a square temple, which had four avenues, each compos’d of two rows of treble columns, or columns plac’d three and three upon a triangular pedestal. On the cornices of these columns were alternatively a sphinx and a tomb. Each double row was of five hundred pedestals or fifteen hundred columns, which in all made six thousand columns, each of a single piece, and seventy feet high. Diodorus makes no mention of this temple, but modern travellers yet see the remains of it⁠[78]⁠.

As soon as Sethos arriv’d at Syena they shew’d him the deep well, over which the sun pass’d perpendicularly the day of the summer solstice, so that at noon the whole form of it was seen entire at the bottom of the water. This phenomenon, as well as that of the Obelisks of this city, which at that moment gave no shadow, prove that it is situated exactly under the tropick of Cancer.

The next morning they propos’d to Sethos to visit the lesser Cataract, which is not above four or five leagues distance from Syena; for the larger is near to Napata in Ethiopia: The smaller is a chain of rocks, which on that side towards Syena appear of a prodigious breadth, and of the height of two hundred feet perpendicular from the surface of the river in its natural course. But at more than ten furlongs farther towards the south begins the unevenness of these rocks, the cavities of which are so deep, that the water which passes over these frightful places, fall and dash against the rocks with such violence, that the noise of it fills the mind with terror as far as they are heard. However, the Nile in its increase abundantly fills these cavities, and covers them in a perfect level. It was then towards the end of the first month of its decrease; before which, the journey to Syena, as well as the siege of Coptos, would have been equally impracticable. But the Nile, which runs gently in the plains, has then at the Cataract the swiftness of an arrow from a bow. Sethos had the pleasure of seeing the barks of travellers, which driving at this season with the stream, make a fall of about two hundred feet without any danger⁠[79]⁠; an inconceivable trial in the first who ventur’d upon it. Here are likewise seen the remains of an astonishing work. The natural cascade, which falls with the impetuosity we have just observ’d, leaves a space betwixt it and the perpendicular wall. The kings of Thebes had caus’d a large platform⁠[80] to be made, where they walk’d dry under the water; the motion of which forms it into a vaulted arch; and moreover, had caus’d to be hollow’d out of the natural rock, even with the platform, a vast grotto, enlighten’d by several rows of windows. Sethos allow’d, that this part of his journey very justly crown’d all the beauties of it. The two priests therefore conducted him back again to Syena. The Nile, along the banks of which they travell’d, and which they frequently pass’d over on bridges, wholly employ’d Sethos’s imagination, and gave him an opportunity of asking his guides their opinion of the rise of this river, and the causes of its inundation.

The eldest of the two immediately answer’d, That the Egyptians being inclin’d to look upon the Nile as a gift immediately from the gods, or as a god itself, which had a temple at Nilopolis; they thought it best to leave the people in an ignorance so conducive to their piety. Indeed, continu’d he, the greater part of mankind is kept up in a greater veneration for the gods, by the peculiar operations they attribute to them, than by the effects which result from the general order of their providence. Therefore, not discovering to them the fact which is known to us, we leave an open field for some writers, who, not having seen things themselves, relate such conjectures, with regard to the Nile, the falsity of which time daily discovers. Some have said, that this river takes its rise in the mountains of Atlas, towards the western coasts of Africa; and that traversing all that part of the world, it came into Egypt by the northern confines of Ethiopia. Others, advancing something nearer to the truth, tho’ yet very far from it, bring the Nile directly from the southern parts of Egypt, but, without reason, separating Africa by the ocean at the Equator; then place the rise of this river in those lands which they suppose beyond it, and which they call the Anticthones, or the other world: So that, according to their notion, the Nile traverses the sea, without mixing its waters with that of the ocean. They call the mountains, where they imagine it to spring, the mountains of the moon, and place them ten degrees beyond the Equator⁠[81]⁠. It is more than a century since the sacerdotal college of Thebes has sacrific’d immense sums to dive into the truth of this matter. Our priests, accompany’d by our officers of the second order, have neither fear’d the danger nor the fatigues of travels by sea and land, which they have undertaken, either alone, or with sundry merchants, who coasted it to different ports of Africa: and it has appear’d, that the discovery of the rise of the Nile, which was the first motive of their inquiries, has not been the only fruit of them. They found out, that the western coast of Africa is not divided by the ocean under the Equator, nor bends toward the east, as is yet believ’d by most of the geographers, who stretch out this coast to the most eastern extremities of Asia, and inclose the Indian ocean in this space as a Mediterranean sea⁠[82]⁠. Africa, on the contrary, extends in a point declining towards the west, to the thirty-fifth degree of southern latitude. The priest, who discours’d him, even shew’d him, on a small chart which he had about him, the situation of the eastern coasts of Africa to its point, and the turning of the western coasts, as well as the names of the principal inhabitants who dwelt as well on the one as the other, to the Fortunate islands. We know no other way at this time to these islands but by the Streights of Hercules’s Pillars; and return the same way, for want of cultivating the knowledge the Egyptians had of the whole compass of Africa. As for the springs of the Nile, continued the priest, we have found them in a barbarous kingdom of Ethiopia, for which we have yet no name, but the inhabitants call it Goiama. They are twelve degrees on this side the Equator, which brings them to twenty-two degrees, or five hundred and fifty leagues on this side the mountains of the moon. And we observe in general, that the geographical corrections almost always tend to diminish the distances of places reckon’d by the most antient geographers. Moreover, these springs seem to arise in a mountain cover’d with trees, which is flat at top. There we find two small openings of cisterns plac’d pretty near one to the other, like two eyes. But we can’t sound them, because we are immediately hinder’d by roots of trees. The water has no issue but at the foot⁠[83]⁠. This river issuing from the mountain opposite to the north, soon forms a lake, call’d by the inhabitants Dambea, which is above sixty leagues in circumference. At last, after many windings to the east and to the west, it comes into Egypt, and traverses it almost in a strait line from the south to the north. We conceal this rise and natural course of the Nile from the populace, for the reasons I have already given. And with regard to travellers and mariners, it is just that they take themselves, for their interest and advantage, the pains we have taken for the mere benefit of information.

Sethos, who from his soul disapprov’d of such a reserve, flatter’d himself, sooner or later, by some means or other, to verify what concern’d the coasts of Africa, and to render this discovery useful to mankind, without falling into the inconvenience of divulging a sacerdotal secret. This opportunity was to offer sooner than he imagin’d. In the mean time he thank’d the priest for this account of so many extraordinary things; and told him, that not to be too troublesome to him, he would entreat his companion to explain to him the causes of the inundations of the Nile.

This other priest answer’d him, that the explication would be short. The cause of the inundations of this river, said he, is the same as that which produces the river itself. Rains, which give the first birth to the Nile, are afterwards the cause of its periodical inundations. As the sun by its presence or absence, as well as by the directness or obliquity of its aspect, is the principal agent in the different dispositions of the earth, and of the air which encompasses it; its operations are more constant between the two tropicks, which include its annual course, than in the spaces beyond them to the poles, over which it has less power. For that reason the winds, which are caus’d by the rarefaction of the heated air, are more regular in the torrid zone than any where else. The heat of the days, and the coolness of the nights return always the same in the different months of the year. With regard to the rains, which are form’d of the exhalations and vapours dispers’d in the air; it is the sun itself which raises them abundantly in its perpendicular situation, and at the same time dissolves them into torrents of water. Thence follows, that differing from what happens in the temperate and in the frigid zones, which have summer when the sun approaches them, and winter when it departs from them; the winter, or the rainy season, in each of the two parts of the torrid zones, at least in Africa, is the time of the most direct passage of the sun over them. Now, as the sources of the Nile are in the northern part of this zone, the first streams of this river increase when the sun is in the northern signs, where it causes our summer. The same happens to all the rivers which have their spring in the torrid zone. But they are not all fill’d with a slime so beneficial as that of the Nile to fatten the ground. This discourse brought our travellers insensibly to Syena.

There they enter’d the subterraneous passages, and they made Sethos continue in them as much as possible till they came to Thebes, that a view of the sacred curiosities might succeed the sight of the prophane. I shan’t speak here of the former, which were not very different from what Sethos had seen in the subterranean edifices of Memphis. The body of ceremonies were much the same. But in the Theban Nome they were animated by a spirit of rigour, which, in the opinion of Sethos, took off very much not only of their beauty, but their value; and whereas in the sacerdotal Nome of Memphis, virtue was an exercise befitting men of honour, in that of Thebes it seem’d to be a labour for slaves. In the mean time, Sethos keeping these reflections to himself, came at last above ground again in the capital. The priests shew’d him all the beauties of their college, and reserv’d their observatory for the last.

The apartment which bore this name, was plac’d on the temple of the Theban Jupiter, and compos’d of two long galleries one over the other. The highest was terminated towards the north by two pretty low towers; and towards the south by a high cupola open on all sides, which was properly the place for observations. The lowest of the two galleries contain’d all the astronomical books. They were divided into two classes; one containing books of the elements, methods and systems; the noted authors of which were represented in a row of pictures, by which young students never pass’d without making a profound reverence. Thence the most eastern Indians took the exterior adoration they render’d to their first learned men. The second class contain’d a collection of immediate observations, made since astronomy was cultivated at Thebes. The columns of the syringes had preserv’d those anterior to the deluge, which were transcrib’d into these books; and in which they had remark’d and corrected the imperfections necessarily attending the first attempts towards the sciences.

Sethos entring into this first gallery of books, saw three or four hundred priests of all ages, from eighteen years upwards, who were reading or writing in silence, on desks plac’d along the shelves. Our Grecians mention much the same circumstance of the observatory of Acanthis⁠[84]⁠. In the observatory of Thebes there were, however, about twenty elders, to whom the youngest apply’d themselves, and open’d their difficulties, whispering. They were not always courteously receiv’d; and these great masters judg’d, that a too great liberty of asking questions not only encourag’d idleness in young beginners, but accustom’d them, under the pretext of affirming nothing, to say a great many childish things. The prince’s guides had already led him towards these priests, who were directors of the studies; because he had express’d a desire of seeing nearer at hand such illustrious men, whose name alone had long before excited a veneration in him. They were advanc’d part of the way to meet him; and they took pleasure in answering the questions he made concerning the different applications of the pupils he saw so attentive at their study. Some, said they, continue the general tables of calculation begun fifteen hundred years ago, with regard as well to numbers, as to rectilineal or spherical triangles, to facilitate and shorten the computations the problems of astronomy engag’d them in. This long preparation shews that the Egyptians as well as the Greeks, had not the method which the latter attempted to find out, in order to save the enormous trouble of numerical multiplications and divisions⁠[85]⁠. Others, farther advanc’d, continued the priests, make calculations of the eclipses by tables already form’d, or calculate tables of the different planets by observations given. Some are oblig’d to give ephemerides for different places of the earth. The most experienc’d undertake ephemerides for the suppos’d inhabitants of some of the planets; and who, without doubt, think themselves at rest in the center of the universe, as we do. Others, to conclude, examine the courses of all the planets seen from the sun. These find the motion of the planets, which from the earth seem to us so odd, and so difficult to be brought to any certain hypothesis, to be, excepting some difference in swiftness, uniform and regular. The sun, which according to all manner of appearance, is not inhabited, is the only place from whence the planets would appear to move as they do, and where astronomy would be easy. But being upon the earth in a wrong situation for observation, we may say, that whereas in the other parts of physick nature seeks only to be conceal’d, in astronomy it seeks to deceive us.

Sethos, charm’d with what he saw and heard, said to them; O ye venerable men, worthy of eternal memory and acknowledgments! these difficulties you have overcome, place you in the highest rank of all the learned men of the world. Astronomy, in the opinion of every wise man who sets a true value upon things, is the highest attempt of human understanding, and of all inventions that which by its sublimity and certainty does the most honour to mankind; because it surpasses, in some manner, humanity itself. It is to you we are in general indebted for this glory; and it is you who have taught us what attention and study can render us capable of. As our Egyptian heroes have given to most civiliz’d nations those laws in which their happiness consists, you furnish them with means to enjoy, for the greatest benefits of life, that heaven you have discover’d to them; you will leave it, as it were, an inheritance to posterity⁠[86]⁠. The heavens, by your care, far better known than the earth itself, will serve alone to give an exact knowledge of the situation of every country, and the extent of every sea, and will alone guide different nations to a desir’d intercourse one with the other. The eldest of the priests answer’d him, That they all receiv’d this compliment with pleasure; not with respect to their persons, but as regarding the whole science, of which they perceiv’d by his discourse he perfectly knew the application and use. He added, in a polite manner, that after having discours’d with him, they were going to shew him in the upper gallery their astronomical instruments; not as it was usual with them to many initiates, for custom’s sake, but to have his opinion and advice. Sethos, though he very sincerely declin’d this respect, follow’d them, however, with great joy.

As they enter’d into this gallery at the south end, Sethos immediately saw the cupola over his head; the light of which added greatly to the beauty of the gallery, tho’ it had likewise windows on both sides. This cupola, which was exactly round, was twenty feet in diameter. They always left hanging there the tube, which serv’d them to gather those rays alone which proceed from the star, and to guide the eye to follow it continually⁠[87]⁠. But when they would get up into the cupola to make observations, they made a floor in it, by means of joysts and boards, which they thrust out in a moment from the thickness of the roof of the gallery. Here Cheres saw all the representations the Thebans had of the motions of the stars, either in relievo, as globes and spheres; or in planes, as the planispheres, analemmas, astrolabes, and every other species of astronomical projections. They did not omit shewing him the ring parallel to the plane of the Equator, which the Egyptians, and even the Greeks make use of to know the exact moment of the Equinox, by the shadow which one side of this ring makes upon the other in the instant, when it happens between sun-rising and setting. Hipparcus and Ptolemy were both astonish’d to see sometimes the moment of the vernal Equinox appear in the morning, and appear again at noon. The priests mention’d this phenomenon to Sethos, as they explain’d to him the use of this ring; and told him, that in this particular case, the true moment of the Equinox is at noon, and that of the morning only apparent; but that they had nothing yet decisive of the cause of this appearance⁠[88]⁠.

Going towards the end of the gallery, Sethos perceiv’d some priests who were calculating nativities and horoscopes. In that, as we have elsewhere observ’d, consisted their divination. They added to it an enquiry, yet more strict than that of the other priests of Egypt, into the secrecy of kings and private persons. The young prince did not think it proper to ask them any questions on this head; not only because they would have hid from him the grounds of their art; but because he had heard of Amedes, and perceiv’d by the natural integrity of his mind, that they were not worthy his notice. So the priests led him at last to the inside of the two towers, which were at the north end of the gallery.

These towers were round, like the cupola, and of the same diameter: but being level with the gallery, the half sphere, which serv’d for a roof to them, did not begin till the height of twelve feet; because they would not have these roofs cut the horizon of the cupola, which was higher than all the buildings in or about Thebes. In the western tower was represented the hemisphere of the firmament, which contains the six northern signs; and in the eastern, that which contains the six southern. The circles of the sphere were describ’d in them as in our celestial globes; and all the fix’d stars were mark’d according to their bigness and reciprocal distances. The priests told Sethos, that an exact observation of the position of the fix’d stars, was their rule for an exact determination of the apparent course of the planets; because they appear to our eyes to depart from or approach to certain fix’d stars. It is by that, continu’d they, that we have at last hit upon the theory even of the comets, so far as to foretel their return⁠[89]⁠. They added, that their forefathers having been as far as under the Equator, they had seen and observ’d the whole firmament; and that they did not believe the eye of man could perceive a single star which was not describ’d in their two hemispheres. It is true, that whereas Ptolemy knew but of one thousand twenty-two in the whole firmament, the priests of Thebes had plac’d in each of their hemispheres near a thousand.

Sethos having contemplated these stars, which were of gold on an azure ground, for some time, said: O learned priests, allow me to expose to you a surprize, into which I fall as often as I observe the stars on planispheres or globes; and by so much the more, when I see them on these two magnificent vaults, into which you have brought them all; which is, that notwithstanding the narrow limits of all these representations compar’d to the immense extent of the heavens, the stars seem to me more separated, and at greater distances from one another, and above all, in an infinite less number, when so represented, than they appear in the firmament itself, where they seem to be crowded together in every the least space of so vast an expansion. At first view we think we see millions in that celestial hemisphere, in which the most quick-sighted eyes, such as yours, have never found one thousand. Thus, in this respect too, we say truly, as you have learnedly observ’d, that, in regard to astronomy, nature seems industrious to deceive us: but we must confess, that our sight does not give us the measure, greatness, and distances of things. There is, as we may say, a jarring between that and our imagination. Both one and the other have an opposite influence in our first views; and in many cases, sciences only can rectify them. In reality, while our imagination prodigiously increases the number of the stars, our sight diminishes yet more the extent of the firmament. I might, perhaps, undertake to prove, that the sky appears to us only as the half of a sphere, whose diameter does not exceed two hundred and forty feet. The priests, tho’ accustom’d to all the paradoxes of astronomy, were astonish’d at the novelty of this proposition beyond expression; and they were more than ordinary attentive to what Sethos said. I believe, continu’d he, if one were to ask an indifferent person of what bigness the sun appears to him to be; he would account it about a foot in diameter; and indeed it seems to be a little more than a foot at the horizon, and something less at noon. I will therefore suppose a foot as a mean measure, the exactness of which is here not necessary. Now astronomers have found, that the diameter of the disk of the sun is about half a degree of the firmament. Thus the sun passing the day of the Equinox thro’ half the circumference of the Equator, which is a great circle, goes one hundred and eighty degrees, or three hundred and sixty half degrees, which is three hundred and sixty apparent feet. The diameter of a circle being pretty near the third of its circumference, or two thirds of its half circumference, two hundred and forty feet must be the diameter of a circle, whose half circumference is three hundred and sixty feet. Thence, continu’d Sethos, I venture to draw this consequence; That if I was upon a plain horizon, such as in the middle of an even desart, or upon the sea; and that, placing myself in the center of a half circumference drawn above me, whose diameter was two hundred and forty feet, or its semi-diameter one hundred and twenty feet, a disk of silver, which should take up half a degree of this circle, was to pass this half circumference: I say, that not being otherwise inform’d of any thing by any other object, I must necessarily fall into two errors: The first, would be to believe this disk as big as the sun; and the second, to suppose it plac’d, as well as the whole line it would trace, in the firmament, as I suppose the sun to be, tho’ it be in reality a great distance from it. To conclude, said Sethos, carrying my idea yet farther, I am persuaded, that the semi-diameter of one hundred and twenty feet, given us by the observation I presume to lay before you, is very near the point of distance, at which common eyes begin to lose the power of judging of the real distances and bigness of things, unless the imagination be assisted by the comparison of the intermediate and neighbouring objects, whose distances or bulk are otherwise pretty near determin’d.

The priests having heard this discourse, forbore all examination of the physical suppositions of the problem, and told Sethos: That they were much less affected with the brightness of his wit, and the depth of his knowledge, than the modesty with which he had deliver’d things the most singular in the world. Long may you live, O great prince, said they, long may you live, and be the glory of Egypt, by the perfection of all the talents, and of all the virtues, which are visible in you. It was a great satisfaction to Sethos to be approv’d in his attempt of doing some honour to the education of Memphis, in presence of the priests of Thebes. He thank’d them with the greatest marks of gratitude for that openness of heart which they had been pleas’d to shew him, and for the generosity with which they had allowed him, at least, an access to their most profound secrets. He added, that he should deem himself happy if he could long continue to be their disciple; but that his duty calling him back to Coptos, he desir’d, as their last favour, that they would suffer him to be conducted thither that same day. The two priests, who had not forsaken him a moment, carry’d him back by the way he came, and Amedes, who knew the time of his return, was waiting at the sacerdotal college to receive him.

The young prince, upon ent’ring Coptos again, laid aside all thoughts of whatever he had seen during his journey, to apply himself wholly to the affairs of war. The morning after his arrival, Amedes, visiting with him the fortifications of the city, made him observe the difference of the works with regard to their different situation. The next day he shew’d him the works the enemies had begun since the fall of the waters of the river. As yet they were only the lines of their camp, defended by ditches pallisado’d, and in some places by walls. He told him, that these works would have been much farther advanc’d, and that there would have been a great many more nearer the city, but for the continual oppositions they had met with from the army of Memphis, and the frequent sallies of the garrison of Coptos, who often destroy’d in the night what the enemies had done in the day. But that at last the army of Thebes being superior to that of Memphis, at least in open field, the enemy was advanc’d to the point he saw; and that they would infallibly bring their machines in a few days to the very foot of the walls. He added, that Thoris, waiting ’till some favourable opportunity offer’d, did with reason confine himself to defend the avenues to Coptos on the side of Memphis, that the place might always be supply’d with necessary ammunition and provision during the siege; and that for this reason he had pitch’d his camp on that side. As soon as Amedes had done speaking, Sethos ask’d him, if he had been of the number of those who had sally’d out to hinder the besiegers works? Amedes having answer’d, that the governor had engag’d him to lead on some of these attacks, the young prince immediately reply’d, he design’d himself to be in the first sally the governor should order. But Amedes acquainted him, that he had promis’d the king his father, not to suffer him to go out of the place. My lord, added he, I have reasons for it which are not so evident that I could open them to the king, and which you will likewise dispense with my communicating to you. But the promise I have made him is binding on this head, and forbids me sallying out myself as long as you are in Coptos. However, to let you see that my aim is not to be an obstacle to your valour, nor even to screen you from the common perils of war; you shall enter into action as often as you please on the walls, where you won’t fail of seeing very vigorous engagements. Towers of wood or ladders will raise the enemy within reach of our javelins, and even of our swords, and battering rams will make breaches in our walls, which we must defend man for man. I shall here take occasion, in answer to the reproach cast upon the Egyptians by some Greek authors, that they did not excell in the art of war, to say, that it was they, who in the persons of Osiris, Sesostris, and Memnon, produc’d the first conquerors in the world. That afterwards they courageously drove away from the heart of their dominions, both the Arabians who had seiz’d them by surprize, under the shepherd kings, long before Sethos’s time, and the Ethiopians under king Sabacon, two or three hundred years before the invasion of Cambyses. But moreover, setting aside their bravery; it is certain, that their ingenuity and power had furnish’d them, long before the Greeks, not only with all sorts of arms and instruments of war, the invention of which Herodotus⁠[90] attributes to them, but with those offensive and defensive machines which the latter afterwards put in use at sieges.

Sethos examin’d with attention all those which were prepar’d within the city. As those provinces which are never so little distant from one another have yet different customs, he compar’d the machines of Coptos with those he had seen the models of at Memphis; and arguing upon this subject with the engineers, he endeavour’d to discover the singular advantages of one over the other.

Returning from the temple of Isis, by the way of the morass, the young prince had already observ’d, that the foot of the wall on that side was wash’d by the water. But taking a view of this part from the inside of the ramparts, he observ’d that the enemy, who was master of the adjacent parts, had since cover’d the water with a great number of flat boats. The governor knew it; but he did not conceive they could make any great advantage of them: and having a watchful eye over the rest, he look’d upon the morass itself as a defence which nature had furnish’d him. It was, however, on that side the first attack on the town was made; because the enemy built very much upon the success of a machine they had newly invented, to scale the city from the morass. They began, by covering the whole surface of the water with boats; and fastening then one by the other, they form’d a floor as firm as if they had lain on dry ground. This work awaken’d the governor’s attention, and he began to think more seriously of defending this part of the walls. Sethos, who was standing by his side, told him, that he call’d to mind an expedient, the first idea of which he had found in the histories of Egypt; that he would go and confer thereon with the engineers, and that in an hour he would offer him this invention ready for execution: that in the mean time, he had the confidence to promise him a success from it as happy as it had been in former times. The governor, a prudent officer, answer’d him; That independant of the good or bad success of this project, the whole kingdom was happy in having a prince who knew how to think, and above all, who was willing to submit his thoughts to the examination of experienc’d persons. That he waited with impatience for his proposal, which he was before-hand very much dispos’d to follow.

The same day, the enemies having cover’d their boats with planks, brought all the pieces of the great machine they had prepar’d; and they had taken their measures so well, that it requir’d a very little time to put it together. Sethos, whose design the governor had approv’d of, was very diligent in observing, thro’ private chinks in the wall, what he could discern of this machine, and of the effect it could have. The engineers had orders to come frequently to him, to know whether, upon what he might from time to time perceive of their works, it might be necessary to make any alteration in the iron hooks he had already order’d in the general view of his design. He saw nothing that made it worth while to make any change in the form he had at first given. His intention was, to let the besiegers put their machine in a condition to work without interruption, that his counter-battery might make the greater havock amongst them. However, to give them no suspicion of his private design, he ply’d them with arrows shot at random from the top of the wall. They had taken the precaution to screen themselves from them; for the greater part of their barks, especially those in which their work oblig’d them to be most, were cover’d with boards slanting on the side towards the town.

Night being at last come, they perceiv’d that the enemy had chosen that time to put their machine in practice. It was a large lodge or shed open before, and capacious enough to hold fifty soldiers. It was to rest upon the brink of the parapet of the ramparts; the height of which, the besiegers engineers perfectly knew. The body of this lodge was to be supported in this manner by long, strait stakes, of which only the hindermost were upright or perpendicular to the barks. All the rest serv’d as peers or jaumbs, being fix’d obliquely into these, in the same manner as is practis’d with galleries of wood which have a great bearing out. In this form it was something like the Sambuca of the Latins, so call’d for the resemblance it had to a harp, and which Marcellus made use of at the siege of Syracusa on the sea-side, according to the relation and description of Polybius and Plutarch. But the machine we are here describing, was more considerable in every respect; and the manner of erecting it very different. The workmen, turning their backs to the town, rais’d it as the semi-diameter of a circle upon supporters, plac’d and fasten’d in the boats, by drawing it with cords running in pullies, which were fasten’d to a sort of masts almost as high as the walls.

The besiegers had not put any men into the row of boats which were nearest the wall, not to expose them to the great stones, and other heavy bodies, which the besieged might throw down upon them: but on each side of the machine were plac’d a great number of archers, to infest the besieged on the ramparts with their arrows.

Sethos, on his part, had caus’d to be fasten’d to the parapet a great number of strong pullies, tackled with strong ropes, at the end of which were fasten’d iron hooks of all forms. The enemy did not see these pullies, not only because they had taken care to remove all light round them, and had kept only for themselves as much as was absolutely necessary for their work; but because these pullies were plac’d between the heads of the soldiers, which Sethos, by a stratagem which succeeded, had some time before plac’d standing upon the parapet. While the enemy, making a jest of this disposition, which to them seem’d fantastick, saluted them with their arrows; the eight lords, companions of Sethos, dispers’d among those of the front, but with their armour fasten’d behind to lesser ropes, and holding in each hand one of the iron hooks fasten’d to the ends of the larger ropes, fell down, or rather were dexterously let down, as if they fell of themselves, one after another, as dead men, into the nearest boats. The enemy not thinking these suppos’d dead men worth their notice, and not having perceiv’d the ropes, hidden from their eyes by favour of the night, were only busy, some in clearing the brink of the parapet with their arrows; and others, in raising their machine by force of labour. In the mean time, these young noblemen having, with great activity and address, fasten’d their iron hooks to the hinder part of those flat boats, which contain’d the workmen who were raising the machine, return’d to the foot of the wall, where they made, all together, a great cry; which was the signal for hoisting them up immediately, and for hawling at once all the ropes to which the iron hooks were fasten’d. The disorder which the first motion of the pullies caus’d, is inexpressible: It threw down all those who held the machine suspended in the air, and almost rais’d to its full height. The fall of it crush’d to pieces above two hundred men, engineers and labourers, who directed, or were assistant at the raising of it. All the soldiers in the shatter’d machine were kill’d or wounded. The pullies raising the ends of the boats nearest the walls, made all the planks give way, and threw those, who a moment before were insulting the besieged with their arrows, into the water. The greater part of the boats to which the hooks were fasten’d, being rais’d intirely out of the water, whirl’d about in the air by the force of their own weight hanging to the ropes, discharg’d themselves of those men who had taken hold of them for fear of drowning, and crush’d them to death afterwards in the other boats which had receiv’d them in their fall. Much in the same manner it was that Archimedes turn’d the effect of the Sambuca’s, which Marcellus had caus’d to be apply’d to the Acradina of Syracusa against the Romans themselves; and thus Sethos, having no farther experience in war than what he had attain’d to from history and reading, made himself fear’d and respected, in his very first exploit, by Mephres, one of the most valiant kings the dynasty of Thebes ever had. Something of the same nature has been since related of Scipio the younger, and of Lucullus, who only by reading of Xenophon had made themselves great captains before they commanded the armies of the republick.

While every body, and in particular the governor, were heaping praises upon Sethos; he himself was gall’d to the soul that he had not yet had an opportunity of giving any mark of his valour. He told the governor, shewing them his eight companions, that it was they, and not he, who had given the first proofs of their courage, as well in the sallies they had been engag’d in during his absence, as in the perillous undertaking of fastening the hooks to the boats. But that he comforted himself with the hopes of partaking with them the danger of an exploit that he had projected against the enemy’s towers, without going out of the gates of the city, since it was forbidden him. The governor answer’d, That it was not for him to exhort him to any thing: but that after the success of his first attempt he had not the power to dissuade him from any thing whatsoever. But nevertheless he rely’d very much upon the wisdom of Amedes, for the preservation of a prince who was already an object of wonder, not only to the king’s subjects, but to his enemies.

Mephres, whose army was very numerous, had taken the very time in which this machine was preparing, and to be put in practice, to advance his towers. The continual skirmishes between his army and that of Memphis had not hinder’d him from levelling several passages thro’ which these monstrous piles of wood, quite erected, were to advance towards the walls upon rolls. At sun-rising they saw two of them, of equal size, before that part of the wall which had the largest face towards the plain, and where the Thebans had already fill’d up the ditch. They were square buildings, of four fathoms each side, and higher by two feet than the parapets of the ramparts, before which they were plac’d at fifteen or twenty feet distance. Toward the top they had a floor, to which there was an ascent by a stair-case contriv’d on the inside of the timber. This floor was lower than the brink of the tower by the height of a tall man, to secure the besiegers from darts lanc’d in a direct line. But on that side which was towards the wall, there was upon the floor a broad bench, upon which the enemy were to mount, to annoy the besieged, who might line the ramparts, with their arrows. Besides that, every tower had a sort of draw-bridge of three feet broad, with iron rails on the sides about three feet high. These draw-bridges the enemy were to let down on the parapet, and by that means to endeavour to throw themselves into the city. Sethos, seeing these draw-bridges which as yet were erected in the air, and having observ’d the iron rails, smiling, said to his officers who were about him; These people surely are very awkward; we may, perhaps, let them see something more bold.

In the mean time the ramparts were provided with soldiers commanded by the governor himself, who prepar’d to repulse the besiegers. Besides the arrows which they shot continually at the enemy in the plain, he order’d, that as soon as they observ’d them upon the floors of the towers, they should shoot arrows into the air that might fall down again on their heads. Sethos, on the contrary, wish’d, with regard to his design, that the floors might be full of soldiers, because he look’d upon them as so many men who should not escape. But observing that these arrows did not do them much harm, nor hinder them from exposing themselves to the danger, he did not contradict this order of the governor’s, nor did he inform him of his project, to give him the pleasure of a surprize. He had, indeed, in the morning, desir’d that two long planks might be plac’d within the ramparts, over-against the two towers; one end of which resting upon the ground, and being rais’d by degrees, and supported from space to space with stones, the other end towards the parapet was of the same height as the towers. The governor let him make these preparations, thinking he design’d to place soldiers upon these planks, who being something higher might the better resist the enemy’s descent into the ramparts. But Sethos, who had concerted his design with his eight companions, caus’d them to be arm’d, as himself, with light armour, and each a sword of a foot and a half long, broad at the hilt, and very sharp-pointed. The moment he thought most proper for his design, placing himself, with three of his companions, at fifteen paces distance from the foot of one of the planks; and the other five at the same distance opposite to the foot of the other, they all cry’d out at once to make way. Immediately taking a sudden jump all together with a surprizing vigour, they were seen, in a moment, running on the planks, rais’d in the air, and falling, with sword in hand, into the two towers. The governor, as well as all the officers and soldiers on the rampart, stood motionless at this sight: but the people in the towers, much more surpriz’d, thought them really fall’n down from heaven by a prodigy which foreboded their certain ruin. Indeed, having no other weapon but their bows, which they were going to make use of, by mounting all together upon the broad bench, they were all stabb’d before they had time to come to themselves. As the stair-case and bottom of the tower were fill’d with Theban soldiers, commanded to back those who were above; our young heroes threw all the dead bodies down the horizontal opening of the stairs; and they, being in armour, by their weight, either kill’d or overthrew all who were on the stair-case. Not satisfy’d with that, they took the levers, or other instruments of iron design’d to let down the draw-bridges, and with a wonderful quickness and dexterity loosen’d the planks from the joysts, which were more than sufficient for them to walk on; and throwing them down, they destroy’d those who were below in great numbers: They likewise ruin’d a great part of the stair-case, by leaving only such pieces of wood as were necessary for them, not to walk, but to jump or clamber from one place to another. At last, not designing to stay long there, they let down the draw-bridges, and return’d, running to the ramparts. But to deprive the enemies of the same opportunity, if they should attempt to come up in their turns, Sethos caus’d the two bridges to be dextrously cut off close to the parapet, and they fell at the foot of the wall.

This exploit had a far greater success than Sethos himself had imagin’d. The first soldiers, who got out of the two towers alive thro’ the doors below, cry’d out in a fearful tone, That certain Genii, enemies to the Thebans, were come down from heaven on the tops of their towers, had destroy’d their companions there, and were making frightful ravage. This notion, supported by the groans of those within, and the noise of the boards falling, made those who were posted adjacent to the towers, fly to a great distance; and they did not scruple saying, that signs from heaven were superior even to the orders of their king. Mephres, who saw these young men in the air, and could hardly comprehend this unheard-of example of intrepidity, the author of which he suspected to be Sethos, plainly perceiv’d he should not be believ’d if he alledg’d it. So, not to expose his authority, he chose rather to give way to the superstition of his army. He gave orders the very same day to set fire at a distance to the two towers, since they were displeasing to the gods. He even added, that as their great machines had not succeeded, they would, in the continuance of the siege, only make use of the battering rams, the most simple of all machines; which they could not do without, to beat down the gates, or batter the walls of a city they so lawfully attack’d.

The governor and Amedes, on their part, wrote to the king of Memphis, to give him an account of what had pass’d from the beginning of the siege, and of the glory which the young prince, and the eight lords his companions, had acquir’d. Thoris in the mean time receiv’d from the queen reproaches, either private or express’d in a doubtful sense, that his projects advanc’d so slowly, and that the affairs of war remain’d always in the same situation. He did not want this spur to his rage. The contempt he had always lain under, but into which he imagin’d he was fall’n by a comparison to Sethos, whose name alone fill’d the mouths of every one, cast him into a confusion, which began to be visible in his orders. In short, under the pretext of taking advantage of the disorder, from which the Theban army was not yet recover’d; he let the governor know, that he was resolv’d the following night to attack the enemy with the greater part of his troops, and therefore desir’d he would favour his design by a sally of the best troops of his garrison, at midnight, and on that side opposite to him. He sent him, at the same time the word by which they might know one another in the dark. The governor consented to all, and let him know he wanted no other signal but that of the hour appointed. Thoris knew that Sethos never made one at the sallies: but imagining upon such an occasion he would be near the gate on the inside, he hatch’d the black design of giving the enemy an opportunity of entring into the city. To put it in practice without being discover’d, he took upon him to go in person to view the way they were to pass to encounter the enemy. When he went into the tents of the chief officers, he talk’d aloud to them of his design; he nam’d the gate the garison was to march out of, and gave them the word in such manner, that those who were round about the tent might hear it. Some of the eldest captains took upon them to acquaint him, that he would have done better to have spoken lower, because of the spies that king Mephres might have in the camp; and the rather, as it was for particular officers to give the word to the troops in the moment they were to march. As it was the intention of Thoris to have the project of his enterprize come to the enemy’s ears, he soften’d his tone no longer than till he was out of the hearing of those who, from space to space, presum’d to give him the same advice. The general order, in short, was to march against the army of the besiegers the hour he had advis’d the governor. He foresaw that their march would soon be stopp’d by the army of Mephres, who was sufficiently inform’d of all. So he propos’d, after having engag’d them some time, to sound a retreat, under the plausible pretext of his design being discover’d, and so give the enemy an opportunity of cutting off the sally of the garison, and, perhaps, of entering the city. All this happen’d to the great misfortune of Memphis, as he foresaw; and to his own, which he did not expect.

Mephres had divided his troops into two bodies; the largest he commanded himself, and the other he sent under the command of one of his lieutenants against the garison. Thoris, at the head of his army, was immediately struck with fear at seeing the king of Thebes, who till then had never appear’d in person in any of the nightly expeditions, and with whom he had no thoughts of engaging. He remain’d at a stand, when the king fell upon him with his whole avant-guard; and commanding two or three of his officers, who were nearest his person, to seize him without wounding him, he caus’d him to be led hand-cuff’d to the quarters where the prisoners he had taken from the beginning of the siege were kept: after which, rushing on the foremost ranks, he made a terrible slaughter. But the next commanding officer after Thoris, a prince of the blood-royal of Memphis, a man in years, and of great resolution, taking the command upon him in the absence of the general, gave immediate orders to the officers who were behind him to retreat with the army in good order and silence into their intrenchments; while with one single cohort, which he kept, he would oppose the whole shock of the Theban army. The soldiers of this cohort, to the number of three hundred, drew together imperceptibly with their backs to the wall of a long temple they had behind them. There they withstood all the fury of the enemy; and were almost all cut off, when the commander, directing his discourse to Mephres, said: My lord, you are conqueror of our first ranks, and of three hundred men which we were here; but the body of the army of Memphis is in safety. Be contented at this time with the remainder of these brave men, who surrender themselves prisoners to you. The king instantly put an end to the battle: he order’d the soldiers to be convey’d away, and care to be taken of them, especially of the wounded. Afterwards, giving his hand to the commander, he made him mount a horse by his side, and told him, that he should have no other chain but his word, nor no other prison but a tent near to his own. Thus the king return’d into the center of his camp, to inform himself of what pass’d on the other side of the city.

Mephres, to take advantage of the treason of Thoris, had given orders to his lieutenants to suffer the troops of the garison to advance very near to the camp, where they should be receiv’d by a body of the army in battle-array; and that in this interval of time a certain number of batallions should file off to the right and to the left, under favour of the darkness, and range themselves near the gate the garison was march’d out at. He gave two words instead of one; that by which they were to know one another in the engagement, and that which, being common to them and the garison of Coptos, was to favour the entrance of the besiegers into the place. The troops which were detach’d to the gate, had orders not to appear till the besieged being beaten, as in all appearance they would be, fled, or at least retir’d towards the city: but that then, mixing with them, and seeming to belong to them, they should throw themselves, in as great a number as possible, into Coptos.

The attack of the garison, who were surpriz’d to find the enemy in so good a posture of defence, was, however, very vigorous; because the officers the governor had pitch’d upon were excellent soldiers, and seven of the companions of Sethos, who were with them as volunteers, encourag’d the troops by their example. Tho’ the Theban army not only receiv’d them in front, but attack’d them insensibly on the flanks too; the soldiers of Coptos held out this unequal battle with so much courage, that the besiegers, who were posted near the gate, thought there would be no fugitive at all, and that this pretext for throwing themselves into the town would fail them. In the mean time the Thebans, beginning to speak aloud, that the army of Memphis was defeated, and the general taken, about fifty of the most cowardly of the garison, who were nearest the gate, forsook their ranks, and took to their heels towards the city. The governor, who believ’d all his troops were defeated and following them, caus’d the gates to be open’d to receive them. The Theban soldiers, who had waited with impatience for this opportunity, join’d with them in great numbers: but the fear and disorder of the former soon made them known from the latter, whose outward appearance was more stay’d, and who affected too much to call out the word, that they might be suffer’d to pass. The governor, who was in arms within and near the gate, with the flower of his officers and soldiers, among whom were Sethos and Amedes, cry’d out at once: We are betray’d; let the gates be shut. This order had no effect, the besiegers having so crowded up the passage, that it was impossible to stir them. The governor had nothing else to do but to send for succours from that part of the garison which remain’d in the city; and in the mean time to employ the men he had there to oppose this torrent. They suffer’d the small number of the enemy that were enter’d, to be dispers’d thro’ the city, as not being able to do much harm of themselves: but the governor, with the choicest of his soldiers, whom he had already got together, Sethos, one of the young lords, who alone remain’d with him, Amedes, and even the slave we have already mention’d, and who never left his lord, when he would suffer him to follow him, resisted the besiegers, who were got to the widening of the gate, with so much vigour, that notwithstanding all the efforts of those who push’d them on behind, not any more enter’d.

Amedes perceiving that Sethos, in the heat of action, was every moment out of his fight, gave him a particular charge not to go without the gates. The young prince had indeed no intention of doing it: but a moment afterward, perceiving the enemy gave way, and being under the gate, back’d by all the soldiers who were behind him, he could not persuade himself to lose such an advantage; but pursuing it, was got without the gate, with the young lord and his slave, before he perceiv’d it. They were all three soon forc’d to retreat along the ditch on the left hand, to some distance from the gate, by the attack of fresh troops. Amedes himself, in opposition to his own orders, being engag’d under the same gate, and not being able to draw back without giving the enemy an opportunity of advancing upon him, and entring the city again, was likewise got out, and was forc’d towards the right hand by the troops of the king of This, by whom he was grievously wounded and taken prisoner. The governor knew there were persons of such distinction without the gates: but having charge of the place, he laid hold of the first favourable moment to shut the gate; and leaving only a wicket open, plac’d such men there as he could depend on; not only to see whom they let in, but to procure advice every moment of the troops that were without, and, above all, of Sethos and Amedes. In the mean time the young prince, with his companion and slave, making use of their utmost cunning and activity, and favour’d by the darkness of the night, were soon at such a distance as to be out of danger of being kill’d or taken prisoners. Then the result of their little council was, That the shortest and safest method for them was, courageously to overcome all obstacles, and join the troops of the garison; who yet defended themselves on the spot where they were first attack’d, and which they would easily find again by the noise. They order’d it so, by keeping all three together, that they got thither, after having kill’d by the way some of those who attempted to stop their course. Having soon made themselves known among the ranks, they, in some measure, renew’d their hopes. But Sethos soon after receiv’d a wound by a sword under the bottom of his armour, which laid him flat on the ground for dead. His companion, who saw it, threw himself immediately upon him, to endeavour, with the help of his slave, to draw his body out of the fight. They had just succeeded in it, when the young lord got such another blow himself, which laid him at a distance from Sethos senseless and almost without life. The slave thinking his lord dead beyond recovery, with reluctance drew his ring from his finger, to shew that he had accompany’d him faithfully to his death. Being likewise resolv’d to continue fighting near him, he had but just time in the tumult, to put this ring into his mouth. But he had hardly enter’d again into action, when, being on the flank of the batallion, from whence he had just remov’d his lord’s body, the Arabian soldiers seiz’d him behind, and made him enter into the number of their prisoners. He us’d himself to hold his ring hid always under his tongue, having a confus’d idea that it might be a means to procure his enlargement.

The king, tir’d with expecting in his tent the success of so long and so obstinate an encounter, came himself to the field of battle; and with an intent to spare his troops for the continuance of a siege, which he apprehended would not be soon at an end, he gave orders to sound a retreat almost as soon as he came thither. And thus the besieged, terribly lessen’d in number, and even not yet knowing their whole loss, return’d, however, this time into the city with honour.

But what an affliction was it, not only to the governor, but the whole garison, and all the inhabitants of Coptos, when they found Sethos wanting, as well as Amedes, the young lord, and the slave, from whom they might at least have learnt his fate! At break of day the governor sent to the king of Thebes to demand a truce for burying their dead. Having easily obtain’d it from the king, who wanted the same himself, he sent to take an exact view of the field of battle, hoping to find out those he was most concern’d for, by their helmets or other armour, and in particular Sethos and Amedes, by their initiates vests which they wore under their cuirass. But the vagabonds who range about for plunder, as it generally happens, had already stripp’d the dead, and the trampling of men and horses had disfigur’d the greater part of them. The governor was soon inform’d, that there were no marks to be found of the bodies either of Sethos, Amedes or the slave; but that they were bringing in the young lord, whom they found yet breathing on the side of the field of battle, stripp’d like the rest. While they were dressing his wound, which did not prove to be mortal, he forestall’d the governor’s curiosity, and told him, with groans, that he had seen the young prince kill’d, and that he had assisted the slave in dragging his body out of the crowd; but that having been wounded himself in the very instant, he knew nothing what was become of the body of Sethos, nor of the slave, who was then alive and well. The news of the young prince’s death was soon known every where. On the one side it came to the king of Thebes; and on the other to Amedes. The latter, being discover’d to be an initiate by the officers of the king of This, who took care of his wound, which was more painful than dangerous, was laid in a litter, and sent as a prisoner of note to Abydus, distant hardly a day’s journey. The king of This having seen him, gave him a very favourable reception. Amedes, on his part, tho’ after the death of the prince he had no thoughts either of returning to Memphis, or of remaining in the kingdom of This, soon mediated a peace between the two kings, father and uncle of Sethos, by disengaging the latter from the league he had made with the king of Thebes.

The day after the fatal mistake, of which Thoris had been the cause, Mephres having receiv’d the news of the death of Sethos, sent his compliments of condoleance to the governor, as representing the king of Memphis. He added, that he was just going to take vengeance for it; and that he might come himself in all safety, or send whom he might think fit, to be eye-witness of it. The governor made answer, that he would give the king his master an account of this generous civility of the king of Thebes: But that not conceiving what sort of vengeance he was about to take for the death of the prince, he begg’d he would excuse his giving any answer on this head. At the return of the herald, Mephres assembled his whole army, and plac’d all the prisoners of Memphis in the midst of the ranks. These motions were observ’d from the top of the ramparts of Coptos, but they could not yet comprehend what they would end in. At last they perceiv’d Thoris bare-headed, and led between two men who held him bound. Then Mephres, beginning to speak, said: Soldiers of Thebes, and ye soldiers of Memphis; behold this despicable general, who, having no distinction either of birth or merit, has had the insolence to accept of the command of the troops of Memphis against an army which it was well known I was to command in person. However incens’d I am at the little regard which has been had upon this occasion to a custom ever observ’d by all the kings of Egypt when engag’d in war, I have ample satisfaction in the advantage we have had; and I believe Osoroth will soon be more displeas’d at this unworthy choice, than I could be. If he govern’d of himself, I know what measures I ought to have taken with him to prevent this affront. But as I don’t vouchsafe to enter into a discussion of the deference due to the blood-royal of Egypt with any but those of the same blood; I have suffer’d this affront, resolving to do my self justice for it. I had even rather have given marks of disdain than vengeance, with regard to a general so contemptible as this, had he only shewn his want of prudence and knowledge. But be it known to both nations, that this traytor has been the only cause of the misfortune which has this night befall’n the enemy’s army and garison, and above all, the incomparable prince Sethos, the loss of whom all Egypt ought to regret. This perfidious wretch it was, who, going yesterday in the evening from tent to tent to dispense his orders for the attack, thought he could not speak loud enough of his design, and of the word he had sent the governor of the city. In vain the most prudent officers of his army advis’d him, one after another, as he came to them, to speak with more caution. He, without ceasing, resum’d the tone of his voice, with the apparent design of being heard by those spies, of whom an abhorrence of Daluca’s administration furnishes me numbers. If he were my subject, and I would make him suffer the death he deserves, he should be examin’d in a council of war: But the chastisement I confine myself to, even with regard to my prisoner, don’t require my taking so many measures. It is expedient to secure here at least some punishment for a villain, whose conduct might, perhaps, not be disapprov’d of by the ministry to which the kingdom of Memphis is now a prey. The king, having spoken in this manner, caus’d Thoris to be stripp’d to the girdle, notwithstanding the mournful protestations he made that the queen forc’d him to accept of the command; and that by giving his orders, without going out of the camp, he did not apprehend being overheard by the enemy. His hands being bound behind him, two men, one on each side of him, put his neck between two forks, and in that condition led him round the whole large space, which was surrounded by the troops of Thebes and the prisoners of Memphis, while two other men scourg’d him with long rods. This has since been a punishment inflicted by the Romans upon those who became the enemies of their country, previous to the stroke of the axe, and of which the bare recital given to the emperor Nero, made him determine to make away with himself, for fear of being overtaken in his flight.

After the execution, the king said: Officers and soldiers of Memphis, it is as much for your satisfaction as my own, that I have now given this example. You shall be judges of it yourself, by the good treatment you shall meet with till you are exchang’d. As for this wretch, I will send him bound hand and foot to Daluca without any ransom. I set no value upon him, and should be sorry he should be compar’d to the meanest of my soldiers who are prisoners. The king, in reality, sent him immediately to the first city of the kingdom of Memphis, where he knew the governor was a creature of Daluca. Thoris, upon his arrival, begg’d he might be conceal’d from the eyes of every one till he prov’d his innocence. This the governor readily comply’d with, and immediately dispatch’d a messenger to the queen to know what he should do with him. The queen, perceiving herself chastiz’d in the person of her general, sent, with all diligence, orders to this governor, to make a shew of all imaginable kindness to Thoris under close confinement, and to promise him from her a speedy justification: but that he should publish every where to the world, that the queen would bring him to a trial. That, however, at the end of three days, he should cause him to be strangled in his bed by men whom he could depend on; and that afterwards he should spread abroad that he dy’d of grief. All this was perform’d to a tittle.

The governor of Coptos had resolv’d not to write to the king till the evening of the day following the double battle which happen’d under the walls of the city, that he might employ the time of his delay in making all possible enquiry, and to gather all the news he could concerning Sethos. He had caus’d all the bodies upon which any marks of distinction were found, to be separated from the rest; for that not only Sethos, but three of the young lords his companions, were not return’d from the battle. Before they were put into the catacombs of Coptos, he caus’d more distinguish’d and honourable exequies to be perform’d for these than for the other, being persuaded that Sethos, tho’ unknown, was among them. He at last wrote a letter to the king, bath’d in tears, in which he gave a particular account of all that had pass’d in that unhappy night, and to the moment he took pen in hand. The king, when he came to the article of his son’s death, fell in a swoon. The queen, who had receiv’d this news by her emissaries, fifteen hours before him, having been from that time always near his person, did all she could to recover him. As soon as he came to himself, he turn’d towards her, and in a tone, mix’d with grief and anger; said: Oh! madam, these are the fruits of your pernicious administration; from this moment I deprive you of it. Go, and shut yourself up in one of your most distant palaces, and let me never see you more. The queen gave way to this storm, and retir’d: but before she departed, and took her two sons with her, to a house of pleasure she had at ten leagues distance from the capital, she establish’d a private intelligence with those, who looking upon her as mother to the present heir to the crown, and knowing the force of her policy, plainly perceiv’d she would always be in some consideration, and hop’d to see her again in greater power after her return than before her exile. The king, in the mean time, instituted that very day a council of men of pretty good intentions. This council will maintain the kingdom, during some of the next ensuing years, in a middle situation between prosperity and weakness; but which, approaching something nearer to the latter than the former, will bring it to the very brink of its ruin, engag’d in a foreign war; which will be the principal subject of the last book of this history.

As soon as this council was establish’d, Osoroth, who had yet some hopes of hearing from his son again, imagining he must be stray’d away in the confusion of a night-battle, wrote to the king of Thebes. He intreated him to extend the generosity he had shewn, in being concern’d at the death of his son, so far as to cause enquiry to be made after him among the prisoners which might have been made by the several nations who serv’d under him. He inform’d him, that his son had a ring on his finger, the stone of which was an emerald; whereupon was represented a Horus, of whom one hand seem’d stretch’d out to another that held it, which was that of the late queen Nephte, under the figure of Isis, and had been separated from the rest of the stone, and made a ring for her; tho’ he did not know what was become of that ring. That Horus held one finger of his right hand on his mouth; but that one part of his garment seem’d to be held by another hand, which was his own under the figure of Osiris, that he himself wore as a ring on his own finger. That, in short, if by a proclamation of these signs, prince Sethos might be brought to light; he offer’d for his ransom not only the whole Nome of Coptos, which he immediately resign’d to him, for the sake of peace, which he was resolv’d to purchase, but moreover the half of the remainder of his kingdom; an immense price for the person of his son alone. As soon as the king of Thebes receiv’d this letter, he order’d the contents of it to be publish’d in every place where prisoners of war could have been carry’d, promising besides in his own name an extraordinary reward to those who should restore this prince, if, perhaps, he might not be dead.

This proclamation was publish’d, as in other places, at Compasis, a city of the Western or Egyptian Arabia, seven or eight leagues distance from Coptos, where the Arabians, who had taken Azares, had carry’d him. They knew nothing of his being a slave. On the contrary, having taken him fighting with an incredible courage, and being charm’d with his presence of mind on the road from the field of battle to Compasis, they look’d upon him as a person of distinction, and resolv’d to conceal him from the enquiries the king of Thebes might make after prisoners of note. This opinion, which he had at first rais’d in them, he kept up in the two or three chosen men who guarded him. So, when the proclamation came to them, he thought he had room enough to say: My lords of Arabia, tho’ I am an Egyptian, I have always had a natural propensity to your nation. You have already an evidence of it in the ease with which I speak your tongue. It is not yet time for me to tell you who I am. I have not the ring here describ’d; but, if you are wise and secret, I’ll give an account of it in another place. Carry me only on the other side of the Red-sea to the great Arabians, from whom you are descended. I am dissatisfy’d with the administration of Memphis, as you are with that of Thebes; we may be of mutual advantage one to the other. These Arabians being astonish’d at this discourse, conceiv’d a new respect for their prisoner. They instantly led him by private ways to the haven of Berenice, where they embark’d him privately, as himself had desir’d; and having landed him at the port of Badios in Arabia Felix, some days afterwards he was conducted honourably to Meriaba, where the kings of that country held their residence.

The fate of Sethos, who was not dead, as was suppos’d, had not been less singular. Some Ethiopian soldiers had made him prisoner towards the conclusion of the battle; they had perceiv’d a breath of life, which an hour’s time had recover’d in him. Tho’ they did not know him for the prince of Memphis, his noble stature, and the fineness of the steel of his armour, made them believe they should get a great ransom for this prisoner. Sethos therefore, not yet come to himself, was carry’d by these Barbarians to a city, call’d in our antient itineraries, Phœnicon⁠[91]⁠, twenty miles from Coptos on the way to the Red-sea. The Phœnician merchants had a settlement there of such importance, that it gave name to the place. The Ethiopian soldiers had pitch’d upon this place to carry the wounded men to, because the commerce of precious stones, with which they furnish’d the Phœnicians, made them very much esteem’d by them. There the Ethiopian soldiers stripp’d Sethos of his armour and garments, and threw away his initiate’s vest, which was unknown to them, and all over bloody. They afterwards committed him to the care of some Phœnician physicians, of whom they made use themselves for their sick. These physicians, being of a nation more civiliz’d than the Ethiopians, took a peculiar care of this prisoner, whose wound had happily not prejudic’d his nobler parts. They were concern’d for him more on the account of his understanding, which soon was manifest, than for the orders they had receiv’d on his account. Sethos carefully concealing his name and birth from them, till he was able to judge what course to take, pretended to be a common soldier of the army of Memphis, call’d, Cheres: So that the Ethiopians, who came from time to time to enquire after him, began to cool on his account. The Phœnicians taking advantage of this distaste, propos’d their selling him to them. The bargain was soon made; and Sethos, without yet saying any thing, from a prisoner of war, became a slave. His new masters waited only till he was in some measure recover’d, to carry him to the white Port on the Red-sea, where they were to imbark for a long voyage.

He was yet at Phœnicon, where, without making himself known, he had heard the false report which was spread of his death; the sorrow it had caus’d in the city of Coptos; the concern the king of Thebes had on that account, and the vengeance he had taken for it; when the publication of his father’s letter was brought into the very chamber where he lay. The mention made in it of his ring, made him cast his eyes upon his hand the first time since his wound; and seeing that wanting, he stifled the first inclination he had to discover himself: But when, in the continuance of the letter, he understood that Osoroth offer’d the half of his kingdom for his ransom, the unreasonableness of that inspired him with the resolution of concealing himself yet more, and rather to bury himself alive, than be the cause of dismembring, in so frightful a manner, the second and most glorious monarchy of Egypt. As soon as the letter was read quite thro’, he could not forbear saying aloud; That such a prisoner, if he was yet living, would ruin his father’s kingdom before he came to the succession; and that it would be a happiness for Osoroth, if his son remain’d dead, as it was believ’d. This young prince strengthen’d himself in these generous sentiments, in the hopes of returning sooner or later to Memphis in a more favourable and glorious manner; by a reflection on the dangers which the ill-will of the queen, whereof he had just had so terrible a proof, would expose him to every day, if he return’d to his own country; and, perhaps, yet more, by a private satisfaction arising from an idea of a long voyage he was going to undertake with these navigators, who were generally good friends to the Egyptians, from whom they took their rise, and who shew’d a particular regard for him. To say yet more, he depended upon his initiation for a supply of all the virtues of which he might have occasion under a disguise, and an exile perillous, tho’ prudent. To prevent therefore any importunate enquiries, he press’d his new masters to convey him immediately to the haven where they were to imbark. They did it the very same day, by means of a litter, carry’d by men, to prevent the motion he must have suffer’d in any other carriage.

Thus the king of Thebes wrote to the king of Memphis, that all his enquiries, of which he gave him the particulars, were in vain. That he accepted of the Nome of Coptos, the only cause of the war, as having of old belong’d to the kings his predecessors: But that if even he had been so happy to find his son again, whom the governor of Coptos believ’d he had bury’d, he should not have rated the ransom of a prince, whose memory he himself honour’d, at a higher price than that of a reasonable peace.

BOOK VI. — Transcriber’s Notes

THE
LIFE
OF
SETHOS.

Sethos, whom we shall call Cheres throughout the whole course of his voyage, in conformity to the name he had given himself, found at his arrival at the white Port a fleet of fifteen vessels, mann’d with ten thousand Phœnicians. The kings of Egypt, according to sundry testimonies of antiquity, made use of this people to carry on a trade with foreign nations, and to navigate their own ships in distant seas. After having in vain attempted to cut the isthmus, which separates the Mediterranean from the Red-sea⁠[92]⁠, they had confin’d themselves to some canals, capable only of receiving vessels of a middling burden. So they were oblig’d to let the Phœnicians have some ports of the Red-sea, from whence they had a communication with the Indies. They had even about six years before made a very considerable settlement in the famous island of Taprobane, (now Ceylon) situate at the end of that great peninsula which separates the Indus from the Ganges. Besides the affairs of commerce, which carry’d them thither every year, they were going this time to carry succour to their colony, whom the kings of the island threatned with an approaching expulsion. So this fleet, tho’ consisting of merchant-men, was equipp’d for war. Cheres, as yet stretch’d out on his litter, was carry’d by them who bought him on board of their general; to whom they presented him as an Egyptian taken prisoner at the battle of Coptos by certain Ethiopian soldiers, who had sold him to them for a sum of money. He call’d himself a common soldier, who had indeed been reclaim’d by nobody: But, added they, for the understanding and parts, which were visible in him, they hop’d, after his recovery, which advanc’d apace, their general would be glad to have him in his service. He receiv’d this prisoner very favourably, and told him, that the Egyptians, tho’ of the meanest rank, were always treated handsomely by them. That he might recover at his ease; and that he should have no other employment impos’d on him than what he should choose himself. They set sail the very next day. The wind, which was, during the whole voyage, equally favourable, was no impediment to the patient’s recovery. After two days he began to get up for some hours, to acquire a knowledge in navigation, by applying what he saw put in practice, without saying any thing, to the principles which he knew better than those who made use of them. He heard, with pleasure, the sailors, who, as they coasted Egypt, and the most northern part of Ethiopia, nam’d successively those nations, a knowledge of whom he had attain’d to by geography. Such were the Troglodytes, so call’d from the caverns in which they dwelt, to screen themselves from the excessive heat of their climate: The Adulites, slaves who had escap’d out of Egypt, and built a fort there, call’d, Aduliton. The southern Blemyes, men whose heads were so low and squat, that the first who discover’d them said, they had none at all; and that their eyes, nose, and mouth were on the upper part of their breasts. They shew’d the dwellings of other people, who were no otherwise distinguish’d one from the other, than by their different sorts of diet: As the Risophagi, who subsisted wholly on roots: The Icthyophagi, who being border’d on the sea-side, by an inaccessible shore, and towards the land by frightful precipices, have no manner of communication with other men, and live only on fishing⁠[93]⁠: The Struthiophagi, a little farther within land, who pass their lives in hunting the Struthio-camelus, a great bird, with the feet of a camel, with which they throw stones behind them at those who pursue them, and that make no other use of their wings, which are very short, but to run the lighter.

Before they arriv’d at the Streights, they came near to the Sabean Arabia, otherwise call’d, Arabia Felix, by reason of the beauty of its meadows, but above all, for the abundance and variety of its aromatick plants. The approach to this excellent country is known long before you discover land. Diodorus expresses himself very eloquently on this subject: “Nothing, says he, can equal the pleasure which this compound fragrancy gives even to those who but coast this shore, and partake of it at a distance. The land-breezes bring these precious exhalations from the midst of the country even to the sea: they steal, as it were, into the very innermost of the soul, and proceeding actually from the very bosom of nature, they give travellers an idea of the ambrosia, which poets feign to be the delight of the gods.”

They at last arriv’d at the Streights, of which Cheres heard some of the ship’s crew saying, that it was not long since they were believ’d to be clos’d up. Indeed, a certain Damastes, mention’d by Strabo, had been of that opinion. They gave to this passage, at its discovery, a name of evil omen, by calling it, Sthenæ Deiræ, the fatal Streights, or the ruling Promontory of Ethiopia, or the isles which meet there: Some authors even call it, Ostium Luctus⁠[94]⁠, the Haven of Mourning. Not that it is so very difficult or dangerous to pass; but in these first times, when long navigations were very hazardous, they thereby signify’d, that those who had the presumption to pass these Streights, in order to go farther, run the risk of never returning.

They enter’d, however, into this sea, which washes the southern coasts of Arabia to the Persian gulph, and to which the antients gave the name of Red-sea, rather than to that which is inclos’d between Egypt and Arabia, seldom calling the latter otherwise than the Arabian Gulph. Continuing their coast toward the east, they row’d within sight of the coasts of Carmania and Gedrosia, maritime provinces of Persia; and they discover’d to the south of them that number of little islands [the Maldives] which the sea does but just separate one from the other, and some of which are not a furlong in circumference: Ptolemy accounts three hundred seventy-eight; but some travellers affirm there are twelve thousand, which they say are all subject to one king.

As they had been above a month on their passage, Cheres was perfectly recover’d. The general, call’d Astartus, a man of knowledge and experience, and even known to Cheres by his fame, observ’d more and more something noble in his physiognomy, and a certain air of distinction in his whole person. He gave great attention to his answers, which, without departing from that modesty, which his present condition seem’d to require, shew’d him possess’d of a great elevation of mind and thought; but he was truly surpriz’d at the extent of his knowledge, which had already serv’d to redress some observations of the pilots by rules or methods surer and more agreeable than theirs; and which seem’d equal in all the natural sciences, as well as in the history, laws and manners as well of Egypt, as of all other nations whom they undertook to question him about. Cheres manag’d this advantage with art, and only saying upon every occasion what was necessary, he made his knowledge appear inexhaustible: For, in short, tho’ he would not be known for the person he was, he did not refuse the esteem and consideration he could attain to naturally, and without seeming to seek it. All the reputation he had gain’d as Sethos, was of no service to him, and he was oblig’d to raise a new fame as Cheres. However, tho’ alone, depriv’d of every thing, and having lost to the very least tokens of his birth, he did not despair, in the great views he had for the benefit of mankind, to see himself soon chief of that fleet, into which he came as a slave. The general, being at an uncertainty with regard to him, without changing, in outward appearance, the condition of a soldier and prisoner, which Cheres had himself taken, acted in other respects with him, as with a person from whom he ought to bring no reproaches upon himself for the future; and he put in practice, on his account, the very wise maxim of respecting the unknown. To say true; the name of an Egyptian, kept up in this stranger by a personal merit, was sufficient for Astartus to make the chief officers of his fleet approve his conduct. Even these began to regard Cheres as a young man of noble birth, whose too distinguish’d education had made the queen of Memphis jealous of him; so they made no difficulty of conferring with him, and they were even sollicitous to engage him in the interest of the Phœnicians.

The time soon came which made them more sensible of the purchase they had made in him. They already coasted the western shore of the peninsula on this side of the Ganges, at the point of which is the promontory, call’d, Cory. Opposite to this promontory, at the distance of sixty miles towards the east is the northern port of Taprobane [Ceylon]. This island, which was formerly call’d Palesimundus, is now call’d Salica. If I would give an example of the variations which have happen’d in the names of most places in the world, and of the difficulty there is in knowing the present world in the antient geographers, I should add, that the first name of this island was Lamcab,⁠[95] or Lamca; the second, Ilanarus; and the third, Tratane; of which, it is said, the Greeks have made Taprobane. I purposely omit the history of Jambolus⁠[96]⁠, who having been put, with his companion only, into a bark, by the Ethiopians, as expiatory victims, pretend to have landed safe on this island; because this history appears in that author, with all the absurdity of a fable. Taprobane was accounted, a long while, the biggest island in the Southern Ocean; whether it was that those which are larger were not then known, or whether it was suppos’d to have been of a greater extent than it really is. And indeed, the charts, made according to the geographical graduations of Ptolemy, extend it under the Equator, tho’ it be at about ten degrees northern distance from it.

After a very fortunate voyage, more with the help of their sails than their oars; the Phœnicians were at the height of Cory, when the rising sun discover’d to their view, on the side of the island, a fleet twice as large as theirs. They easily perceiv’d, by the difference of their flags, that the three kings of Taprobane had combin’d to oppose their passage. Astartus, who began to be uneasy that no boat came off to him, to inform him in what condition the affairs of the colony were, did not doubt but they were entirely destroy’d. Not daring to take upon himself alone to attack the enemy at such a disadvantage, and without having had an opportunity of speaking with any of the Phœnicians of the island, he assembled a council of war. He made Cheres stay in the cabbin, under pretence of doing some service. The plurality of votes was for returning; For, in short, said they, if our country-men are exterminated, as their silence, with regard to us, gives us reason to believe, we have not brought along with us sufficient provisions, to make a new settlement in Taprobane alone, and by force. If we are defeated, we shall have no retreat, and victory itself will be of no service to us. Astartus, who had a private commission, but in good form, which constituted him intendant of the eastern commerce, annex’d to the employ of the chief of the colony, with whom they were not satisfy’d, was uneasy to find their opinions run this way. Before he gave his vote, he bethought himself to ask Cheres, as if by chance, whether the Egyptians, in such a case, would be of the same mind? Cheres coming nearer, and standing, thus address’d himself to the officers; My lords, tho’ I am but a stranger in your company, I have, methinks, a greater reluctancy to be so near Taprobane, and not to land there, than you have to return into Phœnicia, without being able to give the least account of your country-men. If they are murder’d, don’t you owe to the interest of your nation, which has settlements in many other places, the example of chastising their murderers? And, if your brethren are in chains, don’t you owe to them your utmost endeavours for their deliverance? Are not you better combatants by land or sea than these Barbarians whom you fear? Valour and experience in war are very little worth, if they won’t be an equivalent for a number of ships which does not exceed the double of yours. The general, to encourage Cheres yet more, said; Your arguments would be just, if we had a prince Sethos with us, whose genius and courage might serve instead of the soldiers we want. But the greater part of our company is compos’d of men fitter for trade than war, and who would be more assiduous in preserving their merchandizes than in acquiring glory. My lord, reply’d Cheres, all Egyptians, at least those who have been bred in the same school of virtue, and who have pass’d the same trials, are equal. Attempt the combat only, I will endeavour to keep up among you the honour of my country, and perhaps shall encourage your soldiers to revenge theirs. These words, spoken in a tone which Cheres had not before assum’d, made the whole council come to a resolution of attacking the enemy’s fleet. All the officers returning to their vessels, carry’d the same resolution thither, with which Cheres had inspir’d them. They told their people, that the gods had sent a man amongst them, in the person of an Egyptian, who had inherited the wisdom and valour of prince Sethos, whose fame they had heard so much of at the White Port; and that with such an assistance victory could never fail them.

Cheres had already put on armour, the lightest he could find in the vessel, and had even cover’d himself with it but in part, that he might be more active: but he had provided himself with a large sabre. He had desir’d the general to let him have the office of carrying his orders throughout the whole fleet, to have, by that means, a continual communication with him, upon all that might offer to be done in the heat of the battle. To begin the exercise of his function, Cheres went, within the space of an hour, to every vessel in the Phœnician fleet. He did not always make use of a boat to pass from one ship to the other, but, putting in practice the agility he had acquir’d, he jump’d from one to the other of those which were nearest together. He generally descended from the highest decks by the planks on the outside, with such dexterity as astonish’d the most hardy sailors. The surprize which he thereby caus’d to men, who were very little accustom’d to the most common exercises of the Egyptians, contributed as much as his discourses to heighten their hopes. In most armies, said he, soldiers look upon their adversaries as enemies to their prince or general, and not as their own. Thence it is that they fight only to avoid reproach or punishment, to deserve their pay, or, at most, strictly to accomplish their duty, and to withdraw from peril as soon as is possible. You, on the contrary, as traders, at two thousand leagues distance from your country, ought to regard these islanders as your personal enemies, whose victory, if you suffer it to be on their side, would be much more fatal to every one of you than to your king or your commander. Defend yourselves in this consideration: you won’t give a stroke in vain; each of you will, in some measure, clear himself, danger will disappear in your own eyes, and you will find yourselves conquerors, perhaps, without the loss of one of your lives. The combat began about three or four in the afternoon; the islanders began by shooting a vast number of arrows, weapons which are often lost by land, and almost always by sea. The Phœnicians withstood this not very perilous storm, without doing any thing, but warding it off as much as they could. When the ships drew nearer, they began to make use of their long poles with iron spikes at the end of them. This was the beginning of the combat, hand to hand; and the Phœnicians, remembring the exhortation Cheres had given them, overthrew a good number of their enemy, without losing a man themselves. They at last came to boarding.

The people of Taprobane had, in their naval combats, a custom, which gave their courage an appearance of ferocity and despair, but which was sometimes fatal to themselves. They never boarded an enemy’s vessel but they endeavour’d to fasten it to their own, by means of grappling-irons made for that purpose; so that if they would, afterwards, they could not, without a great deal of pains, disengage themselves. Thus the ship that was defeated was of course a prize to the other. Cheres being inform’d of this custom was resolv’d to take the advantage of it. The general, after having regulated in his presence the general dispositions for the battle, had declar’d to him, that he had his authority to go every where, as he thought fit, and to give orders as from him, for every thing he should judge necessary, ’till he recall’d this general order. But if he had not given him this authority, he would have taken it more than once in every ship he was in. For, on sharp and perilous occasions, the man who is boldest and most active is always the most follow’d. Cheres, nevertheless, leaving the officers in all things the honour and extent of their functions, only told them what was necessary to be done, to second him in what he might undertake alone, and as a common soldier.

The vessel he was then in was the first that was fasten’d. As soon as he saw the islanders grappling-irons fix’d, and that the attack was begun on each side, without entrance, he leap’d over their heads into the middle of their vessel, and with his sabre, which he knew how to manage with a wonderful dexterity, he made himself an impenetrable buckler, which dazzled the eyes of every one, and made a terrible havock among all who were within his reach. This frightful massacre drew the enemy from their ship’s side to defend themselves in the middle; the Phœnicians, rushing in at the same time, made a terrible slaughter, and soon became masters of the vessel. In the short time they were employ’d in securing those who had deliver’d up their arms, they saw Cheres doing just the same thing in another vessel, tho’ they had not perceiv’d which way he went out of their ship, or how he got into the other. He pursu’d his victory in this manner in five or six, which all became prey to the Phœnicians, while the other vessels, which he could not get at, defended and attack’d in a different manner, but every where with great advantage. The islanders were not, however, as yet, discourag’d. In the mean time the day drew near its end, and the night, which in these climates succeeds almost without any twilight⁠[97]⁠, was going to put an undecided end to the combat. Cheres, who had foreseen this inconvenience, had caus’d all sorts of combustible matters to be got together, and design’d to put an end to a victory by fire, which the sword had not sufficiently advanc’d. He repair’d on board the general’s vessel, to inform him of his design. He propos’d to him to sacrifice three of the vessels they had taken, the prisoners of which might be put on board of another. These three he propos’d to fill with combustible matters, which should not take fire ’till a certain fix’d time, and after the Phœnicians, who at first should appear on the deck, were got into the boats which must be in readiness to receive them. The obscurity of the night would, said he, favour this design, and soon afterwards these burning vessels, if they should have no other success, would serve at least to give light enough to continue the combat. The general having approv’d the plan, Cheres departed to put it in execution. He chose for each of the three vessels forty of the bravest and most active men of the fleet, and inform’d them, that as soon as the sun was set, their business was to advance near enough to the enemy’s fleet, to give the islanders room to board them on both sides. He order’d them to make an appearance of resistance, while they were fastning their grappling irons, according to custom; but that done, they should immediately run to the poops of their three vessels, and let themselves down by ropes, which he had caus’d to be plac’d there for that purpose, into the boats which should be ready to receive them, and which he would command himself. All this was executed at the time and in the manner propos’d. The three vessels having taken fire, soon communicated it to those which were grappled to them on the right and on the left, and had the appearance of three floating Ætna’s. The islanders held it no longer at this sight; but fearing that several other ships of the Phœnician fleet might conceal the same snares, they dispers’d, by force of sails and oars, some one way, some the other, as they saw themselves pursu’d by the Phœnician vessels.

The general seeing night come, and perceiving the flames of the burning vessels insensibly decrease, would not venture further in the dark, and without knowing what fortifications the enemy might have on the shore. He order’d the signal to be given for his vessels to retire, and place themselves in a line ’till morning. Cheres was the first to obey this order, and soon appear’d before Astartus. As they were beholding together a remainder of the islanders, who with lamentable cries were jumping into the sea from the tops of their burning vessels, others who were yet swimming, and again others who were drowning; Cheres, tho’ the author of their misfortune by his invention, told Astartus, that he could not reflect upon the cruelties of war without some grief. That it was not to be excus’d in a king or the head of a republick, but by the extreme justice of his cause; and that it ought not to be resolv’d upon, but with a view to sacrifice some private persons to the general good of society. But soon retaking a more gay aspect, he added, That his grief for the fate of these wretches, whom he did not know, was easily remov’d by the shouts of joy with which his victorious fleet echo’d on every side. That he very much approv’d the orders he had given for wine and other refreshments to be distributed to his soldiers. That such indulgences properly plac’d made them forget a long sequel of toils, and encourag’d them to expose themselves the next moment to new dangers. Astartus took all these maxims in good part, and was even charm’d to know the character of his Egyptian to the bottom, that he might employ him more to the purpose. He invited the chief officers of his fleet to a sumptuous repast on board his ship. Cheres was plac’d in an honourable manner at the table, where, as well by his discourse as his noble, discreet, and winning behaviour, he, without exciting any uneasiness or jealousy, confirm’d them in an opinion of his being every way superior to them.

The general, whose mind was justly taken up with reflecting on the continuance of his enterprize, sent them all away at midnight, with orders to let their ships companies immediately betake themselves to rest, that they might be fit to enter into action again in six hours, and at day-break. Cheres obey’d like the rest, and was soon plung’d into a profound sleep, after the fatigues of the foregoing day. The design of Astartus was to employ the night in examining the prisoners about the state of the colony, of which he had, ’till then, no news. He was just upon his departure to the vessels where they were confin’d, when his outermost centry let him know, that two men in a small boat had made the usual signal, to acquaint him, they desir’d to speak with the general. He order’d them to be brought to him, and knowing them, notwithstanding their wither’d and pale countenances, to be two officers, who had formerly serv’d under him, he shut himself up with them alone in his council-chamber. The eldest of them said to him, My lord, we come here as deputies from Pheletes, the chief of our colony, who six months ago engag’d in an enterprize which appear’d of advantage to our nation. It has since been attended with fatal consequences. But if you pursue the victory you have just obtain’d yet a little farther; this undertaking, which has hitherto succeeded but badly, may have, from this night, an happy accomplishment. You know, my lord, with what readiness the islanders of Taprobane suffer’d us to settle at Galiba, the fairest, and most convenient for us, of all their maritime cities. From thence we have, in the course of the five first years of our settlement, carry’d on a profitable trade to the Chersonesus Aurea [Siam] to the three Sabadibæ [Sumatra, Java, and Borneo] and even to the kingdom of Serica [Northern China]. Our chief observing, that besides the great number of Phœnicians which were in Galiba, our trade had drawn thither a great many of the inhabitants of the neighbouring islands, all at our command, he projected the design of making himself master of the city. Thinking every thing was lawful against Barbarians, he took the opportunity of a dark night to surprize the governor and garison of Galiba. The first was kill’d in his bed, and the latter put to the sword; and having possess’d ourselves of the citadel, the rest of the city immediately submitted to us. All went well so far; and our chief had even taken the time when the king of the Galibians, (whose capital is, however, in the country, and is call’d Anurogrammum) was at war with the two other kings of the island, and when it was thought it would be acceptable to them. But, on the contrary, as soon as they knew it, they at once concluded a peace with him, and promis’d him their assistance to drive us out of the city, of which we had taken possession. Pheletes’s design was not to inform the court of Phœnicia of his project ’till it was accomplish’d, to please the king the more with the relation of a conquest already made. But being inform’d that the three kings had immediately begun their march to retake Galiba, he did not presume to let them know at Tyre the true cause of the rupture between the islanders and us, for fear of being reproach’d with having undertaken an ill-concerted project. He only entreated the king to send him a ready and powerful succour against the kings of the island, who threaten’d our colony with a speedy expulsion. These letters were sent away a little before the siege was form’d: and he took care that there were no other letters but his in the packet, which he sent by a trusty messenger. But since that time it has been impossible either for him or us to have any communication from without. The kings caus’d a triple chain to be extended, from one point to the other, of the two moles which form the entrance into the port, supported from space to space by flat boats. Their ships cruize continually before this chain, to shut out all succours that might be sent us from Phœnicia, and my boat had not escap’d, but under favour of the disorder which your victory has caus’d in their fleet. I must now inform you, my lord, that the enemy has just beyond, and to the south of Galiba, a convenient bason, fenc’d on the sea-side by a long chain of rocks. Thither the shatter’d remains of their fleet are already retir’d. On the other side, towards the north, opposite to which you now are, is a high plain, and at the end of it are downs, the foot of which is wash’d by the sea. From thence it is their land-forces besiege the city. The height and thickness of the walls has defended it against them for almost six months. But we must confess, that the famine to which they have reduc’d us, by investing us so closely both by sea and land, had put us out of a condition to hold out a week longer; when from the tops of our towers we perceiv’d your fleet, as an auspicious star, rising to preserve our lives. Now, my lord, what our chief proposes to you, and begs you would put in execution this very night, to compleat the work you have so happily begun, is this. A little more to the north you will be, at about twenty furlongs from the city, in an excellent road, and will have before you a low shore of the breadth of a furlong. There, under favour of the darkness, and with the help of your boats, we desire you would land all the armed men you have. I offer to be their guide, while my companion will return with your answer to the chief of the colony: you will run no hazard in the descent, since your victory has dispers’d the enemy’s vessels which defended that coast. In the mean time, the soldiers of your fleet being landed, and getting, by an easy ascent, up to the downs, will have the army of the besiegers between them and our garison, which will make a vigorous sally upon the enemy, at the same time that you attack them behind.

The general, not a little supriz’d at what he had heard, said to the officer; I believe, dear comrade, you yourself are sensible of the rashness of this undertaking of your chief. The king, our master, when he sent him into these seas, gave him a full power to do all that he should think expedient for the good of the colony; and if he did not tie him down to ask and wait for the orders of the court for too distant expeditions; even this confidence renders him more blameable by the ill use he has made of it. Be it however as it will, I consent to pursue my victory. The animosity of the kings of the island against us must now be so great, that, without dispute, nothing but their entire defeat can bring them to a resolution of allowing us to reside in Taprobane, even upon the footing we were before. The intent of the Phœnician court was not that you should make a conquest of it, of less advantage to our trade than the favour and amity of a people so friendly as these islanders were to us. But our settlement being once made, to the satisfaction of the inhabitants, the king of Tyre will now maintain it, either by good-will or by force. I shall therefore immediately undertake the descent you propose. I accept of you for my guide, and will instantly send your companion back to carry my answer to Pheletes. I only desire your chief, said Astartus, speaking to the second deputy, to attempt nothing before day; and even not to attack the enemy ’till I shall give him the signal, by hoisting red colours, that I am ready to fall upon them on my side. The general accordingly sent away the second deputy immediately, who got into the city as happily as he came out: but turning to the first, he said; For you who remain with us, I can’t enough recommend to you an exact silence to our whole fleet, with regard to the conduct of your chief. We have an Egyptian here with us, a man of a distinguish’d merit, who conceals himself under the form of a common soldier of Memphis, made prisoner in a battle which his king lost against the king of Thebes, a little before our departure. It is to this Egyptian you owe your deliverance: It was he who determin’d the officers of our fleet to hazard a combat which appear’d so unequal to them: It was he, in short, who, by his skill and courage, has made the victory turn to the least in number. But since he has been in my vessel, I have observ’d such principles of virtue in him, as would not favour the proceedings of Pheletes. If he should have any knowledge of them, it would extremely allay his fervency, and, of course, that of our soldiers, whom he encourages, by his example and discourses: In a word, it is for your interest, that he be not made acquainted with the cause of your misfortune, ’till after your deliverance.

At the same time, Astartus, tho’ his fleet had enjoy’d but three hours rest, instead of six, which he had propos’d, gave orders for the descent. How numerous soever the boats were which they had in their vessels, the troops they had landed could not be upon the downs ’till sun-rising. The enemy, having seen them at a distance marching in good order, sent immediately three heralds to them. The chief of them, directing his discourse to Astartus, who was at the head of his army, with Cheres by his side, said; My lord! the three kings of Taprobane, who are on the other side of the intrenchments which you see before you, propose to you, by me, before you engage, to accept of a conference with them in the midst of this plain: They will come thither, attended only by a guard of sixty men, counting even the lords who will accompany them, and will think it very proper for you to take the same number on your side. They offer their word, and desire yours, That the conference be held quietly; and that, if the peace cann’t be concluded in it, that hostilities may not begin again on either side, ’till two hours after it be broke up. They earnestly intreat you will cause Pheletes, the chief of the Phœnician colony, who is shut up in Galiba, which we besiege, to be present at this conference. They will allow him all the safe-guard necessary for him to pass our camp, unless you chuse to send for him in one of your vessels. Our kings are, against their wills, greatly at variance with Phœnicia. The fact alone carries its decision with it, and we have no distrust of the equity either of your king, or of you: but as either side may be prejudic’d in their own cause, our kings are willing to accept of a third as arbiter. The fame of the Egyptians in general is spread throughout the whole world: but some prisoners, which we yesterday took from you, have given us such encomiums of the singular virtues of an Egyptian who is in your company, and who contributed so much to your victory, that our kings are willing to refer every thing to his judgment. Astartus immediately answer’d; That he consented to all the kings desir’d: That he would send one of his vessels to fetch Pheletes, with only ten of the chief officers he had with him in the city, and that he would lessen by so many the number of those who should accompany him: That he would suffer the Egyptian to give his opinion on the dispute in question; and that he himself had a decision to give, with which, he flatter’d himself, both parties would be satisfy’d. He even added; That being yet the only one in his army who knew the bottom of the case, he would not prepossess any one, but give their judgments a greater liberty upon an affair which would not be brought to light ’till the conference.

The heralds being departed, extremely satisfy’d with their answer from Astartus, he instantly dispatch’d one of his vessels to fetch Pheletes, with ten of the chief officers of his colony. He was inraged, to find that a quarrel, which, under the present circumstances of things, seem’d to him so advantageous to be determin’d by force of arms, should degenerate into a treaty. He plainly perceiv’d it would not turn to his advantage: but he had reduc’d himself to a necessity of obeying a man, who seem’d to be come only to his assistance, above whom his employ would have plac’d him, in the natural course of things, and who, in the common situation of affairs, ought to have receiv’d orders from him.

In the mean time both sides were preparing the spot of ground necessary for the conference: They pitch’d upon it at an equal distance between the intrenchments of the Taprobane army, and the first line of the Phœnician army. The islanders furnish’d a large tent, under which they might be shelter’d from the rays of the sun. Astartus, who perfectly knew how to treat with an enemy, was present himself at the regulation of every thing, and caus’d all the prerogatives of honour to be plac’d on that side destin’d for the three kings. He order’d their three seats to be plac’d upon an elevation, while there were on his side only benches set in a semicircle over-against other benches rang’d in the same manner for the lords of Taprobane, at the feet of their kings. Pheletes being come, both parties enter’d into the tent. Astartus took advantage, in a very graceful manner, of the right, which his victory had given him, to regulate in some measure the ceremonials of the assembly; and, by his conduct, he prevented all those cavils which generally delay, and sometimes even break off, the most important treaties. On his side he plac’d Pheletes on his right-hand; and next to him, on the same side, the ten officers of the colony. He himself sate next to Pheletes on the left-hand; and in the same manner plac’d the ten chief officers of his fleet on his left-hand. Cheres, who was the last in their row at the bottom, was almost between the two nations, by the circular form of the benches.

Every thing being thus dispos’d, the king of the Galibians, being seated in the middle of the two other, open’d the conference: He said, That tho’ the two kings his allies, himself, and all the officers of the island who were in the tent, understood the Phœnician tongue, since the Phœnicians had settled in their island, yet it was some trouble to them to speak it: That therefore he hop’d Astartus and his officers would consent, that the herald, whom he had already sent as deputy to him, and who had dwelt a long time in Phœnicia, might speak in his place. This proposal having been accepted of, by a sign of general consent, the herald arose, and began first, by giving a lively image of the hospitality which the king of the Galibians had afforded the Phœnicians the first day, when their fleet, shatter’d with the tempest, appear’d before his port. He next shew’d the zeal with which he soon after had procur’d them the friendship of the two other kings of the island: But he expatiated far more upon the advantage the Phœnicians had drawn from their factory at Galiba, to carry on their trade to the most eastern shores of the Indian sea. He represented, that it was by the conveniency of this factory the Phœnicians had enrich’d the present world with the discovery of Serica, farther from Taprobane eastward than Phœnicia is towards the west; and that this new world had prodigiously increas’d their own riches, by that fine and shining wooll which certain precious insects produc’d on the leaves of trees. He did not forget the circumstance of so many strangers which the kings of Taprobane had receiv’d in all the ports of their island, upon the credit of the Phœnicians: That (said he) was the first cause of our misfortune and theirs. Without this perfidious assistance, their chief would never have attempted an undertaking, which we very well know was disapprov’d of by his principal officers here present. He massacred in one night the governor and the whole garison of Galiba. He made himself master of the city, an abode quieter and more delicious, before this attempt, for him and the Phœnicians, than for our inhabitants themselves. He has made of this general rendezvous of all the Indies, a place of famine and horror. Our kings having been oblig’d to invest this city on all sides, in order to retake it, have, with regret, reduc’d their own subjects to the greatest extremities; because a single man, a traitor with respect to our citizens, and a tyrant with regard to his own countrymen, has persisted for six months, notwithstanding both, in an unwarrantable pretension. This is the only cause of the war we have made against the Phœnicians, and on which, Astartus, our kings accept of the virtuous Egyptian, whom you yourself have brought with you, as arbiter; they are willing to accept of him for their judge, tho’ he be of a nation which has always declar’d itself a friend of yours, and which is even concern’d for its commerce and increase.

Astartus answer’d; That, previous to every thing else, he thought it would be just, to hear the reasons and defence of Pheletes, if he thought fit to alledge any. Upon which, he arising with an appearance of anger, with which he endeavour’d to hide his confusion, spoke thus; I don’t know whether it be with the consent of the king our master, that Astartus has accepted of a conference with the kings of Taprobane; at least, I think that the victory he obtain’d yesterday, and which might this day be follow’d by another, dispens’d him from taking so soon the ways of accommodation. He leaves me here no excuse for an attempt, which had been in his power to have render’d reasonable and glorious. The same decorum is not requir’d in war, as at a conference. It has never been a custom to ask the consent of a nation to take its cities or provinces; and it is generally the gods, and fortune, and not their conquerors, that vanquish’d people reproach for their fate. A military undertaking needs no other justification but its success. If the general himself, who is sent to my assistance, makes me fail in this, at a time when his own victory has render’d it secure, it is the king of Tyre, and not the kings of Taprobane, I shall trouble with my complaint. Pheletes having sate himself down again after these few words, Cheres rose up, and said; The fortune of war, made me fall into the hands of the Phœnicians, and, which they, however, don’t know, tho’ since my captivity I have never been out of their sight, my choice alone has plac’d me in their company. I have reason to be satisfy’d with the regard they have been pleas’d to have for me, and which is far beyond the condition under which I myself have presented myself to them. I shan’t boast that I have recompens’d their goodness by the services I render’d them yesterday, in the naval combat they gain’d over the kings of Taprobane. These services, from that moment, would become involuntary. The esteem I have for the Phœnician general, and for the officers who are under him, makes me believe they themselves disclaim their victory. Their attack at least, to which I confess I greatly contributed, was only grounded, as well on their part as mine, on the ignorance we were in of the real state of the dispute: But before Astartus discovers his resolution on this affair, which is now known, I shan’t let the opportunity escape, of discovering myself, what every one may expect from me, during the whole course of my life. The gods, by making me captive, have increas’d the liberty of my soul; and being depriv’d of all fortune’s favours, I am more strictly devoted to the love of virtue and justice. I acted against you, O ye kings of Taprobane, while I thought you had exterminated from your island the Phœnicians, of whom we saw none appear before the battle. I decide against you, O ye Phœnicians, ’till you have punish’d the traitor, who has actually committed the same crime against the islanders, which I suspected them to be guilty of against you. At these words, Pheletes rose up in a fury, and said; Astartus, when will you stop the mouth of this unknown person, your prisoner and slave, who takes upon him, in your presence, an authority which I should not suffer from you yourself? Cheres then taking that air of authority, which a distinguish’d birth, and heroick courage, are, upon all occasions, capable of giving a man who is possess’d of them, said; I proclaim thy death, thou who speakest; and my warrant is, the interest of thy nation, which is under a necessity thereby to establish its blemish’d honour, and to open again to its fleets the ports of every sea, which the example of thy treachery unpunish’d, would keep for ever shut against them.

At this instant Astartus arose, and stretching out his hand between the two disputants, said; ’Tis neither the one or the other of you two who will decide the matter; but the king of Tyre, who is going to speak, by his orders, which I have about me. Ye kings of Taprobane, you will now see, that Egypt is not the only nation that knows what equity and justice is. As a faithful subject to my master, I should not fear either the wicked or the good, in the execution of his will; but his wisdom is going to give peace to the Phœnicians, and to the Islanders. You would have sav’d yourselves the loss you suffer’d yesterday, if the confidence you put in the number of your vessels, had not hinder’d you from having recourse to a conference which you did not propose ’till this day. You gave us reason, against our will, to let you see the Phœnicians know how to make themselves fear’d by their enemies; and they themselves will now shew you, that they know how to make themselves esteem’d by their allies. Astartus having finish’d this discourse, sate down in his place again, and taking the letters patent from the king of Tyre from under his cuirass, he gave them to his gentleman to read, who was plac’d standing opposite to the herald who had spoken in the name of the kings of Taprobane. After the first lines, which were only the title, they imported, that the king gave commission to Astartus to carry his fleet, compos’d of fifteen ships, laden with merchandizes, and equipp’d for war, to Taprobane: That the forces of this fleet should be employ’d to support or re-establish the colony of that island, which was threaten’d with an expulsion, for reasons which they had but a confus’d notion of, and which seem’d to have been conceal’d by Pheletes the chief of the colony. The king said further, That he had shewn his acknowledgments in due time to the king of the Galibians, and to the two other kings of Taprobane, for the favourable reception they had given the Phœnicians at their first landing: but that this courtesy being at bottom no more than an observance of the laws of nature and nations, he insisted upon its being preserv’d, either by good-will, or force, upon the conditions formerly regulated, or that might for the future be regulated, as occasion requir’d: That the Phœnician nation made no difficulty of allowing that they obtain’d great advantages in trade, by their factory in Taprobane; but that the islanders had likewise had a very great share in these advantages, by the gold and silver which had on this occasion circulated in their island, and by the vend of their cinamon, which the Phœnicians dispers’d throughout the whole world: That, with respect even to the troubles, the true circumstances of which were unknown at Tyre, the king, being willing to give all manner of satisfaction to his dear and much-honoured allies the kings of Taprobane, appointed Astartus chief of the Phœnician colony; grounding this choice on the great services this commander had done him by sea and land; but particularly on the prudence with which he had always behav’d himself among foreign nations, having more than once so gain’d the affections even of those people whom he had conquer’d, that they were enter’d into bonds of friendship and alliance with Phœnicia: That, with respect to Pheletes, of whom he was already inform’d that he was not belov’d by the islanders, and had been cruel to the Phœnicians themselves, he charged Astartus to go back to the rise of these suspicions and complaints; and if he should find that Pheletes had been guilty only of imprudence, or involuntary failings, that he should send him back to Phœnicia, with the usual honours, promising him all manner of indulgence on the king’s part: but if it appear’d that he had been the aggressor, and had offer’d the kings of Taprobane any injury that was capital, or tending to promote discord between the two people; that, in such case, Astartus should form a council of war, compos’d of twenty of his principal officers, viz. ten of the colony, and ten of the fleet, in which he should preside: That Pheletes should be arraign’d before this council; and the sentence there pronounc’d against him should be executed in the sight of the Phœnicians and the Islanders. At these words, Pheletes said; I shall save you the trouble, and know how to punish myself for having attempted to serve my country. Immediately, preventing all dispositions that might have been made to stop him, he ran cross a distance of about forty paces between the tent and the brink of the downs, and threw himself into the sea.

The end of this man, who was more blind than wicked, rais’d some sense of compassion in the whole assembly, which was in some confusion, waiting to see what would be the end of his running with so much precipitation out of the tent: However, the kings and Astartus caus’d the whole assembly, each on their own side, to take their places again, in order to come to a final resolution on affairs which began to change their face. They soon came to an agreement, That all things should be restor’d to the same condition they were in before this undertaking of Pheletes, whose condemnation was to secure more than ever a mutual confidence between the two nations. They were breaking-up, to go and publish these tidings to the besieged, and to the besiegers, when Cheres stepp’d forward, and intreated a moment’s audience. Ye kings of Taprobane, (said he) and you my lords Phœnicians! How urgent soever the publication of the peace, and the deliverance of the city, may be, allow me, now you are so happily assembled, to propose an undertaking equally advantageous to both nations. The gods seem to me to have prepar’d every thing for the execution of this design with which they have inspir’d me, to make the world acquainted with nations unknown, and to give you new allies. My views are towards Africa, in which my country is situated; but it is to discover the southern part of it, with which the Indian seas will give you an easy communication from hence. Tho’ I have not perform’d the voyage I propose, I have a peculiar knowledge of it, the source of which I am not allow’d to discover: but this I can assure you in general, I shall find nothing on all the coasts I propose to survey, but what I am already acquainted with. Give me a fleet of twelve vessels; six of the Phœnicians, whom I name first, because I first devoted myself to their service; and six of the Islanders, because their natural goodness, and their friendship for the Phœnicians, make them worthy to be partakers with them of the profits of this new commerce. These vessels must be equipp’d for war; because among the people we shall meet with, there are some very untractable and unsociable, and such as are only fit to be your slaves. As for the ammunitions and provisions which we shall have occasion for, and advice-boats to bring you tidings of us, while we are compassing the coasts of Africa, these are articles which cann’t be regulated here, and for which you have all the leisure necessary, while we wait for the most proper season for our departure. The kings and Astartus answer’d almost at the same time, That they did not reject this proposal, and that they would examine it with him, as well in their separate as united councils; but that, as he himself had insinuated, the most urgent at present, was, to go and bring joy to both nations, and to carry the besieged all manner of refreshments, which might make them forget the long continuance of the evils they had suffer’d.

A description of the rejoicings which were made on both sides on this occasion is foreign from my main subject. I shall only say, that while the king of the Galibians and Astartus were entring the city in ceremony, Cheres rambled, out of curiosity, into several streets and squares. There were in Galiba several Egyptian priests in the habits of merchants, as it was usual for them in foreign countries. They conform’d with so much discretion to the customs of every place, and behav’d themselves with so much prudence, that they were never observ’d; or at least they were only distinguish’d by the good they found opportunities of doing. Among these were fourteen or fifteen priests of Memphis, and some officers of the second order. Two of these priests, who met Cheres, knew him immediately. He, at the same time, gave them the sign of religious secrecy, which was, by laying his hand on his heart. He related his whole history to them; and they immediately offer’d him their treasure, which the length of the siege had not yet exhausted, and which was going to increase greatly by the return of those sums they had lent to the citizens during the publick calamity. Cheres took advantage of an offer which was a right to all initiates: but he told them, that he had left his jewels in the hands of the priests of Memphis, and that his design was, they should open the box, and take out as many as would pay all the sums he might borrow of them. To this end, he begg’d of them to conduct him to the house where they lodg’d, that he might write to the high-priest of Memphis, and leave his letter in their hands, to be carry’d by one of them, or their officers, who might first return into Egypt. In this letter, after an ample relation of his adventures, he took notice of the debt he had just contracted, and those he might yet contract; begging the high-priest to reimburse himself out of what he had put into his hands, and which he desir’d him yet to keep for the same use, and especially as it contain’d the late queen his mother’s ring, the only exterior token of his birth which fortune had left him. He inform’d him of his resolution, and the hopes he was in of undertaking to coast round Africa, without delay, in a fleet of which he was to have the command in chief; and sooner or later to return that way to the Mediterranean-sea, and into Egypt. He promis’d to write to him, during his voyage, by every safe opportunity that might offer: But above all, he engag’d him, under the seal of religious and sacerdotal secrecy, to leave the whole world, and especially the court of Memphis, in their persuasion of his death; being convinc’d that was the most infallible means to overthrow, in time, all those measures which had been taken upon this false supposition; whereas, if his enemies knew he were living, they would, at their leisure, take such as might be effectual to exclude him from the succession to the throne which was his right. But if the high-priest should, before his return, receive the certain and unquestionable news of his death, he referr’d himself entirely to him for the publication he might make of the truth of things, if he thought it necessary, for the satisfaction of the good, and the confusion of the wicked.

Cheres return’d soon enough towards the palace, destin’d for the chief of the colony, to enter into it with his retinue; and in the evening, taking Astartus aside, he offer’d him his ransom, what he knew he had given to the Phœnicians who brought him on board his vessel. He begg’d of him to receive it, tho’ it were but out of a formality, to which he very well knew the idea of liberty was annex’d in publick opinion. My lord, said he, don’t be surpriz’d at the sum I give you. I have found in Galiba some Egyptians, unknown, in their habit, from the merchants of your nation. It is an establish’d rule, especially with those amongst us, who are ally’d by a religious association, that their goods are in common in foreign countries. This it is which places me above all necessity for my person here. I presume, however, to beg a lodging of you in your palace, because I shall be the more at hand to pursue, near your person, the preparations for the voyage I have propos’d. Astartus answer’d him, That even before his ransom, which he only accepted of to oblige him, he held him free; and that the services he had render’d the Phœnicians, would have cancell’d all the engagements in the world. He added, that at the first word he heard him speak, and by the bare tone of his voice, he had believ’d him to be of a quality far above what he assum’d, and even above the common race of men: But that, in short, he had regard for his secret, and the reasons he had to conceal himself, promising him, with an oath, not to communicate to any one the thoughts he had of him, and which he stifled when he spoke to him himself. He assur’d him, that he would immediately use all possible diligence to put the fleet he had desir’d in a condition to depart as soon as he should think expedient; and that he would represent this expedition to the king, his master, as the most advantageous that could be propos’d for the world in general, and for Phœnicia in particular. Astartus was as good as his word, and wrote to the king of Tyre not only what he had promis’d Cheres, but added, without his knowledge, that the unknown Egyptian had, by his merit and valour, acquir’d so happy an ascendant over the minds of every one, as promis’d all success to his undertaking: But that he should likewise be accompany’d by such officers and pilots with whom the interest of Phœnicia might be intrusted. The new chief of the colony hasten’d of himself the imbarkation; because at his arrival at Galiba he was inform’d, that three Phœnician vessels were departed from Taprobane two months before the siege for the great island of Menuthias [Madagascar]; and that they had been promis’d they should soon be follow’d by others.

Astartus being more and more confirm’d in the opinion he had of the probity and knowledge of Cheres, caus’d six large vessels to be fitted out, and provided with the most excellent Phœnician officers, and the most expert pilots of that nation. They did not forget the astronomical tables, nor the instruments for observation, which would be more necessary for them in unknown seas than in others. The kings of the island, who had been prepossess’d in favour of Cheres, even before they had seen him; whose part he had so generously taken in the conference, and which he had since improv’d with a great deal of care during their stay at Galiba, furnish’d the same number. With the consent of Astartus, the partition of such possessions and settlements, as in their discoveries might be to be made between the islanders and the Phœnicians, was left to the sole disposition of Cheres. These first vessels were follow’d by twelve others of lesser bulk, which were to carry, and bring back again successively, provisions and merchandizes, as occasion might require. They took care to furnish themselves in abundance with all the little utensils, which, being put to the most common uses, are of small value among civiliz’d nations; but which must seem very curious to savages who have no idea of the conveniences of life. Some of the priests of Memphis, who knew Cheres personally; and who, according to their general maxim, travell’d to the different parts of the world, as soon as they were discover’d, desir’d to accompany him in his voyage. He would by no means refuse the pleasure and assistance he had to hope from their conversation, advice and ingenuity. The Phœnicians and the islanders of Taprobane had already their priests, according to the religious customs of the ancients, who never went to sea without them. For this reason the poets have feign’d, that the Argonauts took Orpheus with them, and that the Greeks made Calchas accompany them to the siege of Troy. Cheres was so urgent and assiduous, that every thing was ready within a month; he then went on board of the most gallant vessel, as commander; and this fleet, at its departure from Taprobane, was attended with the blessings of the two nations, who lin’d the shore a long way off.

At their departure from the port of Galiba, the wind bore them away to the southward, which was their course to the island of Menuthias: but it was the custom of those days to keep the coast; a timorous way of sailing, which continu’d among us till Hipalus⁠[98]⁠, a famous mariner under the emperor Claudius, taught the Romans to traverse the main sea in their voyages to the Indies. So this northerly wind was contrary to the course Cheres’s pilots propos’d to take; which was, to return the same way they came from the Arabian Gulph to Taprobane, and then to pursue the African coasts from the north to the south. Cheres was sorely griev’d to go so much about, because he had very little curiosity to view those coasts which had already been seen by himself or others: therefore, taking advantage of this circumstance of a contrary wind that favour’d a design, which without this pretext he would hardly have ventur’d to have propos’d: he call’d the pilots together, and said to them; Comrades, dare you put trust in my presage? The heavens seem to point out to us the way which we ought to take. We are going in quest of new lands; but we shan’t be the first who have procur’d this advantage to mankind; and your nation is already famous for these sorts of discoveries. Let us teach future navigators something newer, and more considerable, and which will render you famous among the Phœnicians themselves. Let us make the world acquainted with the main sea; and let us open a passage thro’ it by our example. Let us take this opportunity of a favourable wind to do designedly, what tempests and currents have oblig’d those vessels to do which have landed on islands at a great distance from the shores of the continent. Experience has taught us, that in crossing the sea we are generally less subject to sands and rocks than in coasting voyages. Those among you who have been at Menuthias by other ways, have determin’d the situation of this island; so you know what course you have to take. The certain advantage of a voyage, shorten’d at least the half, by sailing in a direct line, seems, in my opinion, to outweigh the hazard of it, tho’ not yet attempted. What would our navigation now have been if your fathers had not undertaken things which none before them had presum’d to do? They saw the times, in which not only passengers landed every night, but the pilots drew their vessels on shore. Yours are too great to follow them in this lamentable way of working, which you leave to the Greeks; the greater part of whom don’t yet venture, I don’t say out of the Mediterranean, but hardly out of the neighbourhood of the Archipelago. You allow, that you pass your nights more securely in your vessels, either at anchor, or even continuing your course, than by exposing yourself on desart coasts, or those where you mistrust the inhabitants. Navigation of itself is look’d upon as the boldest attempt mankind has ever been capable of; but we may say, it is become the more secure, in proportion as it has been attempted with the greater boldness. I don’t despair but this trial, which I propose to you, will exempt you, in future times, from a thousand shipwrecks and encounters: Besides, the birds⁠[99] which you carry along with you, according to custom, will, by their flight, direct you where those islands or continents lie, which you are to avoid running upon. As soon as we suppose ourselves in the neighbourhood of them, we will send some of our small vessels or boats to sound the way before us. These are only particular methods: but for the general direction of our course, I build very much upon the knowledge you have of the stars. Mariners of other nations have no other guide but the Great Bear; a constellation, tho’ very visible, which discovers the northern region to us, but in an undetermin’d manner. You alone know how to guide yourselves by the Cynosura⁠[100] or Lesser Bear; the point of whose tail directs you exactly to the polar star. ’Tis true, as soon as we have pass’d the line, the northern pole will disappear from our sight; and I know, that the nearest star to the southern pole, which we must then have in view, is distant from it above fifteen degrees. This inconveniency might seem capable of reducing us to a pretty great uncertainty. But, not to mention the assistance we shall have by easy reckonings, it is certain, that bearing from hence to the southwest, as you know we must to steer in a direct line for Menuthias, we shall likewise then find ourselves very near to Africa; which we shall afterwards coast, according to the manner of common sailing, during the whole remainder of our course.

The pilots, being won by a discourse which Cheres had wisely turn’d in their favour, and by which he seem’d to put confidence in their knowledge, accepted of this proposal with joy. And moreover, this trust which he profess’d to repose in them, was, as it generally happens, the measure of theirs in him. In the mean time they doubled their diligence, as well in taking every day the height of the sun, and every night that of different stars, as to discover at as great a distance as possible, the islands they were to meet with in their passage. The continual vigilance, which new dangers oblig’d them to, procur’d them the satisfaction, not only of rendring themselves more expert than they had been before, but of finding themselves in reality more so than they expected to be. Cheres, in order to exempt those who were to follow him from the painful uncertainty into which he ran himself for their sakes, caus’d a very exact journal to be kept of whatever they observ’d either in the firmament or the seas. As they were then in the middle of our winter, as soon as they had pass’d the line, they made great advantage of the east wind, call’d, Apeliotes or Subsolanus. This regular wind, which always follows the sun in these seas, from one tropick to the other, and which extremely qualifies the heat of its perpendicular rays, carry’d them in less than a month within sight of the most southern coasts of the island of Menuthias. We find it call’d in some of our authors, Cerna Ethiopica, to distinguish it from Cerna Atlantica, [the island of Madera] situate over-against the western and northern point of Africa. My anecdote authors relate, that the first, of which we are here treating, had been already discover’d by the Phœnicians, in the following manner:

During the first years that Pheletes govern’d the Phœnician colony of Taprobane, one of his boldest pilots propos’d to him, to extend the knowledge they already had of the eastern coasts of Africa yet farther. As Pheletes was puff’d up with the advantageous ideas which had been given him of the Chersonesus Aurea and Serica, he flatter’d himself with the hopes of greater profit for his colony and himself from thence, than what he could expect from Africa; of which he had heard no other mention made but as of a country hideous not only for its inhabitants but for its desarts. Thus, whatever instances they could make him, he would only grant one vessel to him who propos’d this undertaking. This pilot, after having taken the common tour to come at the cape of Aromata [Gardafuy] which is the most eastern promontory of Ethiopia above Egypt, join’d with some Ethiopian merchants, who accompany’d him to Rapta, over-against the middle of the island of Menuthias. There they told him, they were never accustom’d to go farther; tho’, according to an opinion spread among them, by advancing a little farther, they would find the mines of Sophir or Ophir [now Sophala]. Not, added they, that any stranger has ever seen them. If there be any, they are barr’d from us by Anthropophagian Ethiopians, who, without doubt, don’t know their own riches: but being animated by a more brutish passion, they assemble in numerous bodies, to lay hold of all travellers who have the misfortune to be cast on their coasts; and they carry them away to eat them. Thus we have no other evidence of their possessing mines of gold, but some dust of that metal which has been found mix’d with the sand on their coasts.

Upon this advice the Phœnician pilot, considering that he was not of force enough, either for an assault, or to defend himself, was satisfy’d, as he pass’d the night on this coast, with sending a boat to fill a barrel with this sand in haste. He then stood away for Menuthias, where he had been told the inhabitants had not much more understanding, but were more humane than the savages of Sophir. He doubled the isle towards the south, and landed there: he took a just account of the height of it, and brought away from thence several refreshments, which he purchas’d for some trifles of little value. Being return’d to Taprobane by the way he came, he presented the chief of the colony his barrel of sand; out of which they drew, by barely washing, a pretty large quantity of gold. At the sight of this, Pheletes consented to equip three vessels, which were to land on the southern coast of Menuthias, a little beyond the tropic, at the port, which would be easily found by the first pilot he sent; and he made them hope, as we have observ’d above, that they should soon be follow’d by a reinforcement. The reason Pheletes alledg’d was, that the first thing they had to do was to establish themselves at Menuthias, that they might there concert the most expedient measures to make war with the savages of Sophir. But tho’ it was near a year that these three vessels were departed, they did not arrive at this island till eight days after Cheres, with his fleet, was got thither, which was a great honour to the undertaking he had just perform’d of crossing the main sea.

As soon as this fleet, which consisted of twenty-four vessels, appear’d in the road, they observ’d that the islanders, men and women, terrify’d with a sight, the like of which, without doubt, they had never seen, fled to a great distance, and driving before them all their cattle which they could get together, left an open country. The Phœnicians immediately enter’d into a very large haven, which nature⁠[101] alone had form’d. It is a kind of lake, screen’d from every wind, upon which were a great number of fishermens barks, made out of one piece of hollow’d timber, and laden with strong wicker baskets, which serv’d the inhabitants for nets. They landed in a pleasant and fertile plain, water’d with several rivers and brooks, which fall into the lake, and full of cabins cover’d with leaves, to screen both men and beasts from the great heat of the sun. They found every where provisions of rustick food; and in several places some old men and children, who had wanted strength to leave their dwellings. Cheres gave orders to his whole company to appease the fear, which their accoutrements of war had caus’d in these savage peasants, by all tokens of friendship. And, in the mean time, they took possession of a place which the cowardice of the possessors had made strangers, who desir’d no more than a courteous hospitality, the masters of. After having pass’d some days in marking out the ground they believ’d they might want for themselves, and for those who would follow them, they began to fortify it, for fear the fugitives might return with some unknown succours. For this work they at first imploy’d their rowers, but they soon had other workmen. The inhabitants came one by one, to see whether the strangers were departed. Cheres and his people, by their gestures and the engaging tone of their voices, prevail’d upon those of the old men and children, who were able to walk a little, to go and meet their relations, and to assure them they had nothing to fear of these strangers. This expedient succeeded beyond all hopes; and the inhabitants return’d in a few days to their cabins. It is true, they were now no longer masters there; but whether it was that they were sensible they had lost their independancy by their own fault; or whether they perceiv’d the superiority which civiliz’d nations had over them, they submitted to their bondage without reluctance. As they before aim’d at nothing more than a livelihood, and they had never attain’d to it without labour, their condition seem’d to be hardly chang’d. On the contrary, the inhabitants of this southern canton having never had any chief in common to them, and consequently no necessary and absolute judge in their quarrels; they seem’d, by the loss of the propriety of their goods, to have procur’d a more peaceable enjoyment of them. To conclude, one of the comforts of these people was, that this new government freed them from the injunctions which their soothsayers laid upon all mothers, of exposing their children, when they found by their observations that they were born under inauspicious omens⁠[102]⁠.

The first thing Cheres did, was, to make particular laws for this kind of slaves. He ordain’d, that they should only be call’d bonds-men or servants. He regulated their food, such as they enjoy’d before. He divided their hours equally between work and rest; but he promis’d them particularly, in the name of the kings, their new sovereigns, that as long as they behav’d themselves with that submission they had till then shewn, they should never be carry’d out of their island against their wills. These dispositions being made, they employ’d them in building a fort, walls and dwellings, with the most proper materials they found in the neighbourhood. At last, Cheres, by virtue of the power given him at his departure, determin’d, that the fort, the new city, and all the territory which surrounded it, ought, on account of the neighbourhood, to appertain as a sovereignty to the kings of Taprobane, as well as all conquests they might for the future make in every island.

He sent two of his lesser vessels, to inform the kings of his disposition, and of the conditions upon which he had made them sovereigns of the island, and masters of its inhabitants, or at least of that part which was actually conquer’d. One of these vessels carry’d a column of ebony wood, of a prodigious length and thickness. All their people, to the very sailors, had quantities of topazes, granates, amethysts, and other precious stones; which, as they said, and was agreeable to the truth, they had gather’d in the rivers and brooks⁠[103]⁠. Cheres, in his letter, exhorted the kings to send a small fleet, with a certain number of men and women, to begin a settlement in the form of a colony at Menuthias. He advis’d them to send officers and soldiers with them, that they might have a garison in this island, and a fleet in its haven; because he should carry all the vessels and people he had with him in quest of farther discoveries. He advis’d them, however, not to let their people advance farther into the country, till after some time, and when, by a mild and just dominion over their new servants, they were sure of having zealous soldiers in them. He even exhorted them not to extend their conquests but in the same manner as they had been begun; that is, by convincing the inhabitants of the inward parts of the island, that a reasonable servitude would be infinitely more easy to them than the savage liberty in which they then liv’d. He concluded, that if the kings of Taprobane would but never so little hasten the imbarkation he propos’d to them, they might yet find him in the same place, because the passage between the two islands was now no more a tedious voyage.

He wrote a private letter to Astartus; in which he observ’d, that he had thought it most expedient to make this first present to his allies, to cement their reconciliation with the Phœnicians, who stood in need of their factory of Taprobane for their trade to the Indies. That besides, these allies having fewer maritime forces, and less correspondence in trade than Phœnicia, he had been glad to give them a possession, which they might with ease keep and improve: But that his design was to make the Phœnicians lords of all the eastern coasts of Africa, from Raptum to the most southern point of this part of the world. That the correspondence they already had with the northern Ethiopians would soon make it easy to them to carry on their trade directly to all Africa without going to Taprobane, or even stopping at Menuthias. He advis’d him, that he was going to make a beginning by the mines of Sophir, situate in a barbarous country, whose inhabitants destroy’d and devour’d all those who fell into their hands. That he reckon’d he had men enough to subdue them, and would inform him from thence what troops the Phœnicians would want to maintain their conquest. That after having made as many slaves as he possibly could of these inhuman people, he would employ them in building upon all the coasts such forts as he should judge necessary to secure to Phœnicia those possessions which were advantageous in themselves, or would serve for factories to depart from thence to places where they would have a profitable commerce. He added, that he talk’d of reducing this part of the eastern coast of Africa to slavery, only because it was inhabited by monsters in human shape, uncapable of all society. But that he hop’d to find on the western coast nations with whom they might enter into some treaties of alliance or commerce. That it was not for the interest of Phœnicia to go every where sword in hand: That they would ruin themselves by so tedious an expedition, or at least their dominion would be of no long duration: That it were to be wish’d for them, they might always find people who would receive them as they had been receiv’d at Taprobane. That he should be so far from destroying, that he would not subdue all the Barbarians, who might at first make some resistance: but that he would make use of his victories, as Astartus himself had more than once given him an example, to reduce the conquer’d to a friendship with the conquerors. That if he had made the inhabitants of Menuthias bonds-men, it was because having found no form of general and constant government among them, he could not apply himself to any of them, in order to treat in safety with the nation: That therefore he could bring them no otherwise but by servitude to that communication of good offices, to which he believ’d all the people of the earth were oblig’d one towards the other. That in consideration, however, of their natural goodness, he had taken all possible measures, that their yoke might rather be advantageous than burthensome. That, in a word, he had acted very differently with them from what he was going to do with the Anthropophagi, those enemies to mankind, of whom he would endeavour to exterminate one part, that he might make the remainder real slaves. But that in general he was persuaded, the natural inhabitants of each country were only truly capable of cultivating and preserving the fruits and production of nature in their own lands, and to traffick with them advantageously for those people themselves who want to purchase them there. That thus it would be to ruin trade in its infancy, not only to exterminate, but even to scare away or to alienate those people who were to be gain’d by prudence and humanity. That, for his part, he had only offer’d his service to Phœnicia and its allies in this view. That his most fervent wishes were, to civilize the savages themselves, who might be found susceptible of any manners, by the intercourse he would procure them with polite nations. In a word, that all he aspir’d to in his undertaking was, to make men advantageous one to the other.

Cheres, while he was waiting the return of his two ships, so hasten’d the works he had begun, that the families of Taprobane found, at their arrival some months afterwards, habitations finish’d, both in the city and in the country. Their commander or governor had orders from the three kings to distribute them according to the advice and dispositions of Cheres, and to conform himself to the regulations he should receive from him in what concern’d this conquest. These orders were accompany’d with a letter of praises and acknowledgements to Cheres: but he was more pleas’d with the approbation which Astartus gave, in his answer, to the motives of his conduct; not only because Phœnicia having as yet not had their share, this approbation seem’d more disinterested; but because he was chiefly concern’d for the good of the Phœnicians, and believ’d by serving them, he more immediately serv’d Egypt itself.

As Cheres only waited for the islanders of Taprobane to put their colony in possession of a country he had won for them; as soon as that was settled, he refitted his whole fleet: and having furnish’d it abundantly with ammunition and provisions, he set sail for Sophir.

His design was to reach the coasts of Africa at the river Raptus [Cuama]; where, as has been already observ’d, the Ethiopian merchants always stopp’d, by reason of the dread they had of the Anthropophagi: But a violent storm, such as is very common between Africa and Menuthias, soon interrupted the passage of his fleet into this canal, which he would not venture into but with a very favourable wind. The calm was not intirely settled, when his vessel, being separated from all the rest by a tempest, was found to be off of a point of land, which he knew to be the promontory of Prason, and which Ptolemy afterwards plac’d in the fifteenth degree of southern latitude. But as there is no point of land beyond that of Raptum to the south till you come to this promontory; which in my anecdots I find situated under the tropick of Capricorn, I conclude this is the Cape, which Ptolemy knew the name of, without knowing the situation of it, tho’ it was truly describ’d to him by Marin of Tyre, whom he quotes on this same subject⁠[104]⁠. Cheres calling to mind that this was the bounds of Africa, known by the geographers of his time, resolv’d to land there, and took his measures for the descent.

He had perceiv’d, at a distance, a crowd of inhabitants on the shore; and he imagin’d that these people, having discover’d several of his vessels, were only assembled in so great a number to defend themselves, in case they offer’d to approach them. He therefore thought immediately of rejoining his fleet; and afterwards, that the savages might the sooner separate, he got it quite out of their sight. In short, he order’d matters so, that by favour of a night, which was the fifth after the tempest, three of his smaller vessels, which he commanded himself, fill’d with chosen soldiers, and back’d by the remainder of the fleet at a convenient distance, attempted to land. He had observ’d, as a land-mark, some cabins almost on the brink of the cape, at the mouth of a river [the Inhambane]; and he judg’d, by the nature of the ground, the descent would be easy there. His conjecture prov’d true; and they even found no one to oppose them: so marching silently, with sword in hand, they went up to these cabins, guided by the light of some wood, which they saw burning there. About thirty savages, who guarded the entrance into them, awak’d, and immediately made a great cry; which was a signal for their own death. This expedition was pursu’d with so much diligence, that not one of them had time to arm himself with his bow and arrows, which he had by his side, or means to escape, to give notice to his comrades at a distance.

Cheres and his company enter’d immediately into a sort of large stable, supported from space to space by stakes. They found there about fifty men, almost naked, lying upon leaves, and ty’d to these stakes by branches of palms, twisted into the form of chains. These men, who spoke different languages, all agreed in their tokens of joy and supplicating tone of their voices. Cheres made signs to them by favourable gestures to let one of them, who seem’d to be more zealous than the rest, speak for them all: My lord, said he, you who are at the head of these Phœnicians, whom I know by their armour, as being a Phœnician myself: Heaven has, without doubt, sent you to be the deliverer of us miserable wretches, who are here destin’d to serve for food to the cruel inhabitants of this country. We have been drove on shore here at different times by contrary winds. They come hither in shoals, as soon as they perceive a storm, with a design to seize the prey it may bring them. For otherwise, they have not the courage to go to sea to attack any vessels they think capable of defending themselves. They take advantage of the state of imbecility, fatigue and agony, to which travellers, batter’d by the waves, and almost drowned, are reduc’d to, to reserve those wretches for a death by far more terrible than that they have escap’d. They keep us here in vast pastures full of flocks, from whence they take their daily food, and with which they nourish us, in order to make the same use of us at their festivals as of their flocks: we are liable every month to the frightful choice they come to make of us by the brutal estimate of the plight we are in. Oh! young hero, whoever you are, give us our lives, or at least preserve us from a death so unworthy of the human species. We may, perhaps, be of some service to you against these barbarians, of whose genius and customs, a fatal experience has given us some knowledge. Receive us among the meanest of these brave warriors, who have follow’d you in this glorious expedition, and who seem as intirely devoted to your person, as fill’d with admiration of your valour.

Cheres immediately caus’d the bonds of these prisoners to be cut; and sent orders to the whole fleet to repair immediately into the haven or bason, which forms the mouth of the river. Seeing himself at last in this desir’d land, where he was beginning his labours for the benefit of mankind, he was sensible of that joy which travellers, after long voyages, have at their return into their own country. He soon learnt from these strangers he had just deliver’d, that there were at different places on this coast, going to the north, on the way to Sophir, more of these infamous markets, where the Anthropophagi traffick’d with one another for the men they took. He thought proper, before he went to clear the shore of so many assassins, to form a settlement at the promontory for his fleet; which might afterwards remain for the use of the Phœnicians. It did not appear very difficult to him. He saw he had to do with men, who being terrify’d, had abandon’d the whole plain ever since he had landed, and who only appear’d on the top of the hills; from which they immediately descended on the other side as soon as they made a shew of approaching them. By this example he was confirm’d in the opinion he had always had, that cruelty and barbarity are generally the companions of the vilest cowardice: He was very glad, at the same time, he should have less occasion for blood-shed than he thought, in the reducing of these savages: but their business was to seize as many of them as they could alive; and in the execution of this design, the strangers were of great help to him.

As there were several Ethiopians among them, who had observ’d that the language of the savages did not differ entirely from theirs, they offer’d Cheres to endeavour at bringing them back again. They told him, that provided they were arm’d, they were not at all fearful of them. They said, they would give them to understand, that their flocks, their fruits, and their cabins being in the plain, the surest means for them would be to trust to the mercy of the conqueror. Yes, said Cheres, and you may assure them, that besides their lives, which I promise them, I will employ ’em in something more advantageous to themselves, than that horrible profession which has made them the abomination of the whole world. Don’t forget to add, that I will make a great difference between those who shall submit upon your remonstrances, and those who will put us to the trouble of pursuing them.

These deputies being departed, to the number of twenty, their greatest trouble was, to get near these savages; whom they call’d to come to them in the most pacifick tone and gestures. But as soon as they could in any wise get to speak with them; they soon made them sensible, that being us’d to plenty as they were in their meadows along the shore, they would soon perish with misery, if they were to seek their sustenance for themselves and their families, with their bows and arrows, upon barren mountains and desart plains. These, and the like discourses, passing from one to the other, brought back, in a few days, two or three thousand, and more follow’d. Cheres receiv’d them courteously. He distributed them into several companies; at the head of which he plac’d a Phœnician to command them, and an Ethiopian to be their interpreter. He employ’d them to prepare the ground for a small colony which he sent to desire of Astartus, while he employ’d himself in disposing every thing for a greater settlement in the neighbourhood of Sophir. He did not put these slaves to more tedious labour than he had done the islanders of Menuthias. And he even order’d them a more solid nourishment, in consideration of the custom they had contracted.

The greater part of his company were surpriz’d at this humanity, and these regards; and they rather expected to have seen them chastis’d exemplarily for their late inhumanity. But Cheres told them, there was a vast difference to be made between crimes committed by private persons against establish’d laws in a civiliz’d country, and customs arising from the ignorance and barbarity of a whole nation. That pains inflicted upon them before they were instructed, would be a criminal revenge, and not a lawful punishment. That he made no scruple of exterminating men who were pernicious to mankind; and that upon this principle, he had no reluctance in massacring the thirty savages who guarded the stables, because he then thought it necessary. But that now he knew the character of these barbarians better, he should think himself very blameable to destroy a people whom he was going to render of service, by their labours, to the Phœnicians themselves, and by the continuance of their commerce to all the nations on earth.

However, all the savages were not in a humour to abandon their idleness, and the hopes they yet had of remaining canibals, in exchange for tolerable but regular labours. It was soon known, that some of them, keeping along the coast as far as Sophir, were gone in companies to the other Anthropophagi, to keep them in a body, by telling them they were threatned with such an invasion as had driven them from the promontory. That therefore they ought to prepare for their defence, and turn their courage against their common enemy; which they had hitherto only exercised in destroying one another singly, for private and personal quarrels. Cheres being inform’d of these proceedings, resolv’d to go in search of these savages by land, that he might take them on all sides. But as it was near a hundred leagues from Prason to Sophir, he imagin’d horses would be of service to him; and the more, as the vigour and swiftness of these animals, which this people had never yet seen, would infallibly strike terror in their most numerous troops.

Upon this he dispatch’d four vessels of his fleet, commanded by Phœnicians, but with several Ethiopians in their company. He gave them a sum of gold sufficient to purchase ten thousand horses in Ethiopia, where they are in great numbers, beautiful, and so hard of hoof, that without being shod, they ascend and descend the most rocky mountains⁠[105]⁠. He did not think much of this expence, which he hoped would be abundantly reimburs’d out of the mines of Sophir. These four vessels, which were the largest of his fleet, were to serve as a convoy to the flat-bottom’d vessels which were to bring the horses and their leaders. He foresaw that in this interval of time the Phœnician colony would arrive; and that they being sufficient to guard the promontory, he might take his whole army with him.

Presently after the return of the vessels which he had sent into Ethiopia, and the arrival of the Phœnician colony which he expected from Taprobane, he began his march towards Sophir. He order’d his fleet to coast along the shore, with all sorts of necessaries that they might want in crossing the country, which was not every where equally fruitful. It was likewise design’d to harbour the sick and wounded, if there should be any, and the slaves he hop’d to make. And as he had only mounted six thousand soldiers, the flat-bottom’d boats transported the remainder in case of need.

The savages, who were not ignorant of these motions, had the courage to advance within three days journey of Prason. They were assembled in a plain, at the foot of an eminence which Cheres was to pass, not an army, but a great number of men, who all thought that nothing was requisite for a battle but numbers. For that very reason, knowing his arrival on the other side of the eminence, which separated them, they had the assurance to send him a threatning deputation; because they had heard of the Ethiopians, who were sent to them at the beginning, that among all nations deputies were inviolate. The three savages being presented to Cheres in his tent, were struck with the majesty of his appearance and countenance; and whether it was that they were sensible of the natural superiority, which it has been always said the blacks observe in white men; or whether frightned with their habits of steel, and helmets adorn’d with plumes and tufts of feathers, which they saw not only on Cheres, but on all the officers who were about him, they did not dare to open their mouths. Instead of speaking, they repeated continually their prostrations, such as they were us’d to before their idols. Cheres was oblig’d to let them know by the Ethiopians, who serv’d as their interpreters, that they should put an end to their ridiculous compliments, and inform him of their commission. The deputies, trembling and stammering, gave him to understand, that if he advanc’d farther, their chiefs would immediately burn alive all the strangers they had in their markets. Cheres answer’d, They might do as they thought fit; and that they would themselves mark out the measure of their own punishment: But that a desire to change the kind of death of some hundreds of men should not hinder him from purging human nature of such monsters as they were. These poor negroes carry’d the impressions of their fear to their chiefs, which did not hinder them from causing all the strangers they had in a neighbouring market to be massacred; because, finding themselves press’d to prepare for battle, they did not think they had time to put them to more lingring torments.

They form’d a sort of square batallion, very close, so that there were not above two or three of the first rows, who could aim at the enemy when they drew their arrows, and the remainder were oblig’d to shoot in the air at random. These arrows were pointed with little sharp stones; which naturalists finding sow’d in the plains of Africa, have since taken for thunder-bolts, and call’d them Ceraunia.⁠[106] They had behind them a very strait mountain, the top of which was cover’d with the incorruptible wood of Thya, a sort of cedar, which render’d this country famous in ancient times. There they had conceal’d their wives and children, and thither they propos’d to retire themselves in case of bad success. Cheres, having observ’d this disposition, order’d the two wings of his army, compos’d each of two thousand horse, to ride full speed, as soon as they were got on the top of the eminence, to get behind the batallion of the savages, by the two spaces they had very imprudently left, one on each side of them; while he himself would face them with the ten thousand men which remain’d. The barbarians expected these horses, which several among them had perceiv’d before; but had describ’d them to their comrades as animals, which were very slow in the march they had seen. They were therefore in a strange consternation, when having hardly had time to place their arrows in their bows, they saw their batallion inclos’d the first moment, their ranks broken in the second, and in the third the most of them thrown down, and trodden under the horses feet: they but escaped one sword to meet with another: They found they were conquer’d at the first onset; and their resistance was hardly as long as my description. They stretch’d out their arms to beg quarter; and the combat ceasing at once, they were convey’d to the ships by thousands, where they were put in irons. In the mean time, Cheres finding the stable where they had just murder’d the strangers, he pick’d out the chief of the barbarians, and order’d them to be hang’d along the sea-shore to intimidate the rest, and to shew travellers that they might with safety not only pass that channel, but land on that shore.

After this execution, he made the Ethiopians publish an amnesty, by which he promis’d all the savages of the country, who would abandon their former barbarity, and acknowledge themselves slaves to the Phœnicians, not only their lives, but a favourable reception. This brought in the wives and children of those who were in chains. They were separated into families; and Cheres promised them, in his own name, and in the name of the Phœnicians their masters, to join them always after that manner in the labours they should impose upon them. He excepted from this rule none but the young men who were not marry’d, of whom he made rowers, in the stead of those he had brought from Taprobane, who were converted into soldiers, to increase his troops. But he promis’d all these new captives to take off their chains as soon as they had given sufficient proofs of their fidelity. These marks of goodness from a conqueror, who had appear’d so dreadful, was some comfort to them in their defeat and slavery. Those whom he left in their own country took, with less regret, to those labours which are plac’d in the list of punishments for criminals, but to which many other men willingly submit only to get a livelihood; I mean the mines which they were made to open in the territory of Sophir, whither Cheres arriv’d without any opposition, and deliver’d in his passage all the captives of the Anthropophagi.

These mines appear’d to be surprisingly rich; and tho’ the Phœnicians were great artists in the management of this sort of works, which were not new to them, the Egyptian priests, who were with Cheres, taught them the real secret of separating the gold from the fragments of stone which is taken with it from the mines. This they did before, by grinding it to powder with prodigious labour, and afterwards by reiterated meltings. The Egyptian priests taught them, that quicksilver poured upon the stone, when but slightly pounded, would imbibe the precious metal: That it was easy afterwards to separate this amalgamation or mixture from the sand or gravel which yet clog’d it; and that lastly, they had nothing to do but to make the quicksilver evaporate by fire, which would leave the pure gold at the bottom of the vessel⁠[107]⁠. They farther acquainted them, that this property of the quicksilver extended itself even to silver, but had no effect upon baser metals, with which it would not unite; tho’ they only wanted it for the former at the mines of Sophir: And we know that, in the following ages, they furnish’d the most renown’d nations not only with the gold, with which they cover’d the temples of their gods and the palaces of their kings, but with precious stones without number, with which their women adorn’d themselves. Not to mention those whose names are common, it was from thence they had the pantarba, which had, as it is said, the virtue of repelling the operation of fire; and the sideropœcilus, a kind of load-stone, to which was ascrib’d the yet more fabulous property of keeping up enmity among those who carry’d it about them⁠[108]⁠.

Astartus having given an account of these advantages, obtain’d of the king of Phœnicia himself a more numerous colony for this settlement, which was already provided with slaves, than the Phœnicians of Taprobane could have made up. This people, who were accustom’d at Tyre and Sidon to all the delights of life, found no want of them in this new habitation. They built houses of several sorts of vein’d timber of all colours, of great lustre, and fitter for carving than marble. Besides salutary as well as delicious food, which both land and sea afforded in abundance, the plains were fill’d with peacocks, parrots, monkeys and other animals, which, for the beauty of their form or singularity of their qualities, were worth sending, as they were long afterwards, to all those nations who had money to spend in amusements. To conclude, tho’ Cheres had no design that the islanders of Taprobane should partake with the Phœnicians in the dominion of Sophir, or in the propriety of its mines, he assign’d them here, as well as during his whole course in every settlement, a quarter for them to dwell in, and gave them a proper interest in the Phœnician commerce. The kings of Taprobane had themselves intimated, that tho’ they were overjoy’d that he would teach their subjects trade and navigation, they were not desirous of acquiring very distant possessions, for which they would have enough to do to furnish colonies.

The settlements Cheres had procur’d for the two nations, who had furnish’d him with their soldiers, were no settlements for him. His mind being fill’d with more extensive projects for the advantage of the whole world, and even with the desire of returning into his own country with all the glory and authority which great actions could intitle him to, he found he was yet very short of his aim. He had actually at heart the finding out the utmost point of Africa; a design really new, that would give a facility to trade; the value of which was very well known, but the hopes of it look’d on as chimerical. Being return’d from Sophir to the promontory, it was in that part he imbark’d for this new expedition. He had increas’d the number of his people by a great many of the strangers whom he had deliver’d. They had themselves desir’d to follow him, after he had granted them full liberty of returning into their own country, loaded with the gold of Sophir. As there were among those who devoted themselves to his service, merchants of every nation, and even Phœnicians already establish’d in the most northern parts of the Atlantick-sea, and who had pass’d the Mediterranean to come and imbark in the Red-sea; he was very glad to have in them proper interpreters for the coasts he was to attempt. He thought it proper to take with him all the horses, after the service they had done him against the Anthropophagi. But before he departed from Sophir, he chang’d his flat-bottom’d boats, which had brought them from Ethiopia, into vessels which drew more water, and were fitter to hold out against a tempest.

End of Vol. I.