THE WOODEN STATUE IN THE BOULAK MUSEUM.
Vivi vultus.—VIRGIL.
In the museum of Egyptian antiquities at Boulak, the harbour of Cairo,
is a wooden statue of an old Egyptian. It was found in a tomb at
Sakkara, and belongs to one of the early dynasties of the old primæval
monarchy. It is absolutely untarnished by the thousands of years it had
been reposing in that tomb. There is no stain of time upon it. To say
that it is worth its weight in gold is saying nothing: for its value is
not commensurable with gold. It is history itself to those who care to
interpret such history. The face is neither of the oval, nor of the round
type, but as it were, of an intermediate form; the features and their
expression are just such as might be seen in Pall Mall, or in a modern
drawing-room, with the difference that there is over them the composed
cast of thought of the wisdom of old Egypt. As you look at the statue
intently—you cannot do otherwise—the soul returns to it. The man is
reflected from the wood as he might have been from a mirror.
He is not a genius. His mind is not full of that light which gives
insight. He cannot communicate to others unusual powers of seeing and
feeling. He cannot send an electric shock through the minds and hearts
of a generation. He is no prophet whose lips have been touched with
fire, no poet whose words are creations, no master of philosophical
construction, no natural leader of men.
And this piece of wood tells you distinctly not only what manner of man
he was not, but also exactly what manner of man he was. How this Egyptian
of very early days thought, and felt, and lived, are all there. He was
accustomed to command. He was a man of great culture. His culture had
refined him. He was conscious of, and valued his refinement. He was
benevolent on conviction and principle. It would have been unrefined to
have been otherwise. He was somewhat scornful. He was very accurate in
his knowledge, his ideas, and statements. Very precise in his way of
thinking, and in all that he did. He shrunk from doing a wrong, or from
using an ill-placed word, as he would have from a soiled hand. He was as
clean and neat in his thoughts as in his habits. He was as obstinate as
all the mules in Spain. Had there been any other party in those days, he
would have belonged to the party of order; and, if things had gone so
far, he would not have shrunk from standing by his principles; but he
would not unnecessarily have paraded them. If he had been called upon to
die for his principles, he would have died with dignity, and with no sign
of the thoughts within. In his philosophy nothing so became firmness of
mind as composure of manner.
His servants respected him. They had never known him do a wrong thing;
and they had known him do considerate things. But they did not like him.
They could not tell why, but it was because they could not understand
him. He was an aristocrat. He cultivated and valued the advantages
his position had given him; and was dissatisfied with those whom
circumstances had forbidden should ever be like himself. He saw that this
feeling was inconsequential, but he saw no escape from it, and this vexed
his preciseness and accuracy; and he combated the disturbing thought
with greater benevolence and greater accuracy, and became more precise
where preciseness was possible. He was fond of art, of his books, and of
his garden. He was not unsocial, still, in a sense, nature attracted him
more than man; and he preferred the wisdom of the ancients to that of the
moderns.
Such was this Egyptian of between five and six thousand years ago. He was
the creation of a high civilization. He could have been understood only
by men as civilized as himself. That he was understood is plain, from
this piece of wood having been endowed with such a soul.
In the Boulak Museum is also a statue in diorite, one of the hardest
kinds of stone, carefully executed and beautifully polished, of Chephren,
the builder of the second Pyramid, with his name inscribed upon it. The
features are uninjured, and are seen by us at this day just as they were
seen by Chephren and his Court 5,000 years ago. It was discovered by M.
Mariette at the bottom of the well, which supplied the water used for
sacred purposes in the sepulchral temple attached to Chephren’s Pyramid.
This statue must have been, originally, erected in the temple; and we
can imagine that it was thrown into the well by the barbarous Hyksos,
or iconoclastic Persians, where it lay undisturbed till brought again
to light by M. Mariette. Probably the well had been filled up with the
rubbish of demolitions contemporary with the overthrow of the statue,
and, having been thus forthwith obliterated, had been lost to sight and
memory to our day.