To the peoples of antiquity Egypt appeared as the very mother of
magic. In the mysterious Nile country they found a magical system much
more highly developed than any within their native knowledge, and
the cult of the dead, with which Egyptian religion was so strongly
identified, appeared to the foreigner to savour of magical practice. If
the materials of the magical papyri be omitted, the accounts which we
possess of Egyptian magic are almost wholly foreign, so that it is wiser
to derive our data concerning it from the original native sources if we
desire to arrive at a proper understanding of Egyptian sorcery.
Most of what has been written by Egyptologists on the subject of
Egyptian magic has been penned on the assumption that magic is either
merely a degraded form of religion, or its foundation. This is one of
the results of the archæologist entering a domain (that of anthropology)
where he is usually rather at a loss. For example, we find Sir Gaston
Maspero stating that "ancient magic was the very foundation of religion.
The faithful who desired to obtain some favour from a god had no chance
of succeeding except by laying hands on the deity, and this arrest could
only be effected by means of a certain number of rites, sacrifices,
prayers, and chants, which the god himself had revealed and which
obliged him to do what was demanded of him."[1] Then we find Dr. Budge
stating that in the religious texts and works we see how magic is made
to be the handmaiden of religion, and that whereas non-Egyptian races
directed their art against the powers of darkness, and invoked a class
of benevolent beings to their aid, the Egyptians aimed at complete
control over their native deities.
Let us glance for a moment at the question of the origin of magic.
Considerable diversity of opinion exists regarding this subject among
present-day anthropologists, and the works of Frazer, Marett, Hubert,
and Mauss, etc., although differing widely as regards its foundations,
have thrown much light upon a hitherto obscure problem. All writers on
the subject, however, appear to have ignored one notable circumstance
in connexion with it--that is, the element of wonder, which is the true
fount and source of veritable magic. According to the warring schools of
anthropology, nearly all magic is sympathetic or mimetic in its nature.
For example, when the barbarian medicine-man desires rain he climbs a
tree and sprinkles water upon the parched earth beneath, in the hope
that the deity responsible for the weather will do likewise; when the
ignorant sailor desires wind, he imitates the whistling of the gale.
This system is universal, but if our conclusions are well founded, the
magical element does not reside in such practices as these. It must be
obvious, as Frazer has pointed out, that when the savage performs an
act of sympathetic magic he does not regard it as magical--that is, to
his way of thinking it does not contain any element of wonder at all;
he regards his action as a cause which is certain to bring about the
desired effect, exactly as the scientific man of to-day believes that
if he follows certain formulæ certain results will be achieved. Now the
true magic of wonder argues from effect to cause; so it would appear as
if sympathetic magic were merely a description of proto-science, due
to mental processes entirely similar to those by which scientific laws
are produced and scientific acts are performed--that there is a spirit
of certainty about it which is not found, for example, in the magic of
evocation.
It would, however, be rash to attempt to differentiate sympathetic magic
entirely from what I would call the 'magic of wonder' at this juncture;
indeed, our knowledge of the basic laws of magic is too slight as yet
to permit of such a process. We find considerable overlapping between
the systems. For example, one of the ways by which evilly disposed
persons could transform themselves into werewolves was by means of
buckling on a belt of wolfskin. Thus we see that in this instance the
true wonder-magic of animal transformation is in some measure connected
with the sympathetic process, the idea being that the donning of
wolfskin, or even the binding around one of a strip of the animal's
hide, was sufficient to bestow the nature of the beast upon the wearer.
In passing, I may say, for the sake of completeness, that I believe the
magic of wonder to be almost entirely spiritistic in its nature, and
that it consists of evocation and similar processes. Here, of course,
it may be quoted against me that certain incenses, planetary signs, and
other media known to possess affinities for certain supernatural beings
were brought into use at the time of their evocation. Once more I admit
that the two systems overlap; but that will not convince me that they
are in essence the same.[2]
Antiquity of Egyptian Magic
Like all magic, Egyptian magic was of prehistoric origin. As the savage
of to-day employs the sympathetic process, so did the savage of the
Egyptian Stone Age make use of it. That he also was fully aware of
the spiritistic side of magic is certain. Animism is the mother of
spiritism. The concept of the soul was arrived at a comparatively early
period in the history of man. The phenomenon of sleep puzzled him.
Whither did the real man betake himself during the hours of slumber?
The Palæolithic man watched his sleeping brother, who appeared to him
as practically dead--dead, at least, to perception and the realities of
life. Something seemed to have escaped the sleeper; the real, vital,
and vivifying element had temporarily departed from him. From his own
experience the puzzled savage knew that life did not cease with sleep,
for in a more shadowy and unsubstantial sphere he re-enacted the scenes
of his everyday existence. If the man during sleep had experiences in
dreamland or in distant parts, it was only reasonable to suppose that
his _ego_, his very self, had temporarily quitted the body. Grant so
much, and you have two separate entities, body and soul, similar in
appearance because the latter on the dream plane exercised functions
identical with those of the former on the corporeal plane.
The Wandering Spirit
But prehistoric logic did not stop here. So much premised, it extended
its soul-theory to all animate beings, and even to things inanimate.
Where, for example, did the souls of men go after death? Their bodies
decayed, so it was only reasonable to suppose that they cast about them
for other corporeal media. Failing their ability to enter the body of a
new-born infant, they would take up their quarters in a tree, a rock, or
any suitable natural object, and the terrified savage could hear their
voices crying down the wind and whispering through the leaves of the
forest, possibly clamouring or entreating for that food and shelter
which they could not obtain in their disembodied condition. All nature,
then, we see became animate to early man, and not less so to the early
Egyptian than to others. But his hunting life had made prehistoric man
exceptionally cunning and resourceful, and it would soon occur to him
(in what manner we do not presume to say, as the point greatly requires
elucidation) that he might possibly make use of such wandering and
masterless spirits as he knew were close to his call. In this desire, it
appears to me (if the statement be not a platitude), we have one of the
origins of the magic of wonder, and certainly the origin of spiritism.
Trading upon the wish of the disembodied spirit to materialize,
prehistoric man would construct a fetish[1] either in the human shape or
in that of an animal, or in any weird presentment that squared with his
ideas of spiritual existence. He usually made it of no great dimensions,
as he did not believe that the _alter ego_, or soul, was of any great
size. By threats or coaxings he prevailed upon the wandering spirit
(whom he conceived as, like all the dead, cold, hungry, and homeless) to
enter the little image, which duly became its corporeal abode, where its
lips were piously smeared with the blood of animals slain in the chase,
and where it was carefully attended. In return it was expected, by dint
of its supernatural knowledge, that the soul contained in the fetish
should assist its master or coadjutor in every possible way.
Coercing the Gods
Egyptian magic differed from most other systems in the circumstance
that the native magician attempted to coerce certain of the gods into
action on his behalf. Instances of this elsewhere are extremely rare,
and it would seem as if the deities of Egypt had evolved in many cases
from mere animistic conceptions. This is true in effect of all deities,
but at a certain point in their history most gods arrive at such a
condition of eminence that they soar far above any possibility of being
employed by the magician as mere tools for any personal purpose. We
often, however, find the broken-down, or deserted, deity coerced by the
magician. Of this class Beelzebub might be taken as a good example. A
great reputation is a hard thing to lose, and it is possible that the
sorcerer may descry in the abandoned, and therefore idle, god a very
suitable medium for his purpose. But we find the divinities of Egypt
frightened into using their power on behalf of some paltry sorcerer even
in the very zenith of their fame. One thing is of course essential to
a complete system of sorcery, and that is the existence of a number of
spirits, the detritus of a vanished or submerged religion. As we know,
there were numerous strata in Egyptian religion--more than one faith had
obtained on the banks of the Nile, and it may be that the worshippers
of the deities of one system regarded the deities of another as magical
on the first introduction of a new system; in fact, these may have been
interchangeable, and it is possible that by the time the various gods
became common to all the practice had become so universal as to be
impossible of abandonment.
If our conclusions are correct, it would seem that Maspero's statement
that magic is the foundation of religion is scarcely consonant with
fact. We have seen that at least the greater part of barbarian magic
so-called (that is, sympathetic magic) is probably not of the nature
of magic at all, so that the scope of his contention is considerably
lessened. Budge's dictum that the magic of every other nation of the
Ancient East but the Egyptian was directed entirely against the powers
of darkness, and was invented to frustrate their fell designs by
invoking a class of benevolent beings, is so far an error in that the
peoples of the Ancient Orient invoked evil beings equally with good. At
the same time it must be admitted that Egyptian magic had much more in
common with religion than most other magical systems, and this arose
from the extraordinary circumstances of the evolution of religion on
Egyptian soil.
Names of Power
One of the most striking circumstances in connexion with Egyptian magic
was the use of what has come to be known as 'names of power.' The
savage fancies that there is a very substantial bond between a man and
his name--that, in fact, magic may be wrought on a man just as easily
through his name as through the possession of his hair or his nails.
Indeed, primitive man regards his name as a vital portion of himself.
Sir John Rhys has shown that among the ancient Celts there was a
universal belief not only that the name was a part of the man, but that
it was that part of him which is termed the 'soul,' and many barbarian
races at the present day regard their names as vital parts of themselves
and take extraordinary precautions to conceal their _real_ names lest
these should give to the witch, or shaman, a handle by which to injure
their owners. Howitt has shown in a monograph on Australian medicine-men
that the Australian aborigine believes that if an enemy has his name
he has something which he can use magically to his detriment. The
Australian black is always reluctant to reveal his real name to anyone.
Thus in many Australian tribes a man gives up his name for ever at the
time when he undergoes initiation into the ceremonies which confer
upon him the rites of manhood. This results in the use of such titles
among the members of the tribe as 'brother,' 'nephew,' or 'cousin,' as
the case may be. New names are thus probably given at initiation, and
carefully concealed for fear of sorcery. We find the same superstition
in Abyssinia, Chile, Senegambia, North America, and a score of other
countries. To return to Egypt, we find that many Egyptians received two
names--the 'great' name and the 'little' name, or the 'true' name and
the 'good' name; the latter was that made public, but the 'true' or
'great' name was most carefully concealed.[4] We find the use of these
'names of power' extremely common all over the East. Even to-day, in
reading the sacred name, _Jahveh_, the Jews render it 'Adonai'; but
nowhere was its use in such vogue as in Egypt. A good illustration of
the power possible to the wielder of a name is found in the legend of
the manner in which Isis succeeded in procuring his secret name from
Ra. Isis, weary of the world of mortals, determined to enter that of
the gods, and to this end made up her mind to worm his secret name from
the almighty Ra. This name was known to no mortal, and not even to any
god but himself. By this time Ra had grown old, and, like many another
venerable person, he often permitted the saliva to flow from the corners
of his mouth. Some of this fell to the earth, and Isis, mixing it with
the soil, kneaded it into the shape of a serpent, and cunningly laid
it in the path traversed by the great god every day. Bursting upon
the world in his effulgence, and attended by the entire pantheon, he
was astounded when the serpent, rising from its coil, stung him. He
cried aloud with pain, and, in answer to the agitated questions of his
inferior divinities, was silent. The poison swiftly overcame him, and a
great ague seized him. He called all the gods to come that their healing
words might make him well, and with them came Isis, who cunningly
inquired what ailed him. He related the incident of the serpent to her,
and added that he was suffering the greatest agony. "Then," said Isis,
"tell me thy name, Divine Father, for the man shall live who is called
by his name." Ra attempted a compromise by stating that he was 'Khepera'
in the morning, 'Ra' at noon, and 'Atem' in the evening; but the poison
worked more fearfully within him than before, and he could no longer
walk. Isis conjured him to tell her his name in order that he might
live; so, hiding himself from all the other gods, he acquainted her
with his hidden title. When this was revealed Isis immediately banished
the poison from his veins, and he became whole again. The scribe takes
infinite care not to communicate the sacred name to his readers, and the
probabilities are that, although he knew the legend, he did not know the
name himself, which was possibly 'unknown' to the wizards of Egypt. The
speech of Ra, "I consent that Isis shall search into me and that my name
shall pass from my breast into hers," would seem to show that not only
was the power of the god inextricably bound up with his _real_ name, but
that it was supposed to be lodged in an almost physical sense, somewhere
in his breast, whence it could be extricated and transferred with all
its supernatural powers to the breast of another. What Isis was able to
do was aspired to by every Egyptian magician, who left no stone unturned
to accomplish this end. We find magicians threatening Osiris that if he
does not do the bidding of the sorcerer, he will be named aloud in
the port of Busiris. The practice is by no means extinct in Egypt, for
we find in Lane's _Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians_ that
the man who knows the most great name of God can, by the mere utterance
of it, kill the living, raise the dead, and perform most marvellous
miracles; and if this was true of the Egypt of sixty years ago, we may
be sure that it is true of the Egypt of to-day.
Occasionally the gods themselves vouchsafed to mankind the secret of
their names, and divulged the formulas by which they might be evoked.
We find a parallel in the mythology of certain North American Indian
tribes, where the secrets of initiatory ceremonies and 'medicine' in
general are divulged by deities to men.
'Right Speaking'
There is no exact evidence that magical force was supposed in Egypt
to be drawn from a great central reservoir like the _orenda_ of the
North American Indians, the _kramat_ of the Malays, or the _mana_ of
the Melanesians. But it is possible that an examination of the texts
which had for its end the discovery of the belief in such a force would
prove successful. Magic had its recognized representatives; these
were the 'kheri-heb' priests, and in the period of the Old Kingdom
the higher offices in this caste were filled by sons of the Pharaohs.
Great importance was laid upon the manner in which the spell or magical
formula was spoken. When a magician once found that a certain formula
was effective at a certain time, he was careful to repeat it, when
next he desired to say it, in an exactly similar tone and in similar
circumstances. This was called 'right speaking,'[5] and was practised
by practically everyone in Egypt, as in the next world a correct
knowledge of magic words and formulæ was absolutely essential. The
guardians of the various gateways who are pictured in the _Book of the
Dead_ do not open to those who know not their names and who do not utter
them correctly. Unless certain prescribed prayers were uttered with the
true intonations food was not forthcoming. The number of these formulæ
was great. Each doorway in the otherworld had a title, and would not
open to the new-comer unless invoked by him correctly.
A Magical Conspiracy
In these circumstances, then, we see how universal must have been the
belief in magic, and, trading upon this, many magical books were written
and doubtless sold. One of the most interesting of those that have come
down to us is the Harris Papyrus, which contains many spells and charms.
Such manuscripts seem to have been housed in the royal libraries, and
we read of how a certain official at the court of Rameses III (about
1200 B.C.), holding the office of overseer of the Treasury, conspired
with certain of his fellows to dethrone the king. The conspiracy was
discovered, and in the official account of it we read that Hui, overseer
of the royal cattle, procured a magical book from the king's library by
means of which he attempted to injure the king. Betaking himself to a
secret place, he moulded figures of men in wax, and these he succeeded
in smuggling into the royal palace through another official. The figures
were evidently intended to work harm to the king. He was charged with
carrying out "all the wickednesses which his heart could imagine," to
the horror of the gods; and with making gods of wax and figures of
men, which should cause the persons whom they represented to become
paralysed and helpless. The conspiracy was carefully investigated by
two separate courts of inquiry, and the king ordained that those who
were guilty should die by their own hands. He further desired that he
should be told nothing whatever about the matter. Hui, amongst others,
was doomed to the fate of a suicide. Such wax figures as were employed
by him were greatly in use among sorcerers throughout the Middle Ages,
and are not yet quite dispensed with. Only a few years ago a clay
figure stuck full of pins and placed in a running stream was found in
the Highlands of Scotland. It was, of course, modelled to represent the
person it was desired to bewitch, and placed in the water in order that
it should slowly wear away, the hope of the amateur sorcerer doubtless
being that his enemy might, through the powers of sympathetic magic,
peak and pine into a mortal illness. The method with the figures of wax
was, of course, to place them close by a fire so that they might slowly
melt.
Amulets
In no country was the amulet more in use than in ancient Egypt. It was
worn both by the dead and the living, and, indeed, every member of the
body was under the specific protection of some such talisman. A number
of the amulets found upon mummies are inscribed with words of power,
or magic formulæ, which would prove of use to them in the otherworld.
Some of the more important amulets were those of the Heart, the Scarab,
which protected the heart; the Pillow, which was placed under the neck
of the mummy with the object of protecting its head; the Collar of Gold,
which was intended to give the deceased power to free himself from his
swathings; the amulet of the Eye of Horus, the use of which was almost
universal, and which brought strength, vigour, protection, and safety.
Spells
The use of spells was universal. In the most primitive times the
magician seems to have imagined that all that was necessary for him to
do was to inform the evil demon that he intended to exorcize it. To
the dead who haunted a certain house and brought illness into it he
threatens destruction of their graves and deprivation of food-offerings.
To a disease which has attacked a patient he explains that it has
fastened upon a most unlikely subject, who would probably do it more
harm than good. Later, however, we find the magician requesting the aid
of the gods. He invokes Ra, begging that he will keep watch over the
evil spirits, and relates to that god their delinquencies. Occasionally
he himself takes the name of a divinity, and hurls his thunders at the
demon or the malady that threatens his client, saying, for example,
"Thou hast not the upper hand over me; I am Amen; I am the Great One,
the Lord of Might." The magician was often guided in his choice of
a guardian deity by episodes that occurred in the legends connected
with him. For example, a god who had once triumphed over serpents
would probably be the best protection against them. We find a certain
spell which was supposed to cure scorpion stings desiring Ra to remove
the poison as the goddess Bast the Cat was cured--an incident in the
history of the goddess. But we find that the deities who were nearest
humanity, and should typify in their legends the life of a man, were
most generally invoked. The crocodile, for example, will hurry off when
he is told how the body of Osiris lay in the water and was guarded by
the gods. Isis and Horus at one time hid in the swamps of the Delta, and
if this be recalled it will act as a safeguard against the sting of a
scorpion, an insect which haunts the swamp-lands.
The Gibberish of Magic
All this is, of course, of the nature of sympathetic magic, and we can
observe from it how often the spoken word can partake of the character
of proto-science. But even in the case of the spoken word we have a
cleavage between the two systems, for we find that it may consist, as in
these last examples, of sympathetic allusion to an incident in the life
of a god, or else of mere gibberish, which certainly constitutes it a
part of the magic of wonder. A great many of these seemingly nonsensical
spells consist of foreign words and expressions, some of them of
Syrian origin. It is well known that the shamanistic class in savage
communities is prone to invent a secret language or dialect of its own,
and that the vocabulary of such a jargon is usually either archaic or
else borrowed from a neighbouring language. For example, we find in one
magical formula such a sentence as the following: "I am he that invokes
thee in the Syrian tongue, the Great God, Zaalaêr, Iphphon. Do thou not
disregard the Hebrew appellation Ablanathanalb, Abrasilôa."
The Tale of Setne
A tale which well instances the high standing of the magician in ancient
Egypt and the use of magical models or figures is that related in a
papyrus of the Ptolemaic period regarding the prince Setne, who had
studied to good purpose the manuscripts in the Double House of Life, or
Library of Magical Books. He was conversing on one occasion with one of
the king's wise men who appeared sceptical of his powers. In reply to
his strictures upon the efficacy of magic Setne offered to take him to
a place where he would find a book possessed of magical powers written
by Thoth himself, and containing two potent spells, the first of which
was capable of enchanting the entire universe, and so powerful that
all animals and birds and fishes could be commanded by it. The second
enabled a man in the tomb to see Ra rising in heaven with his cycle of
gods; the Moon rising with all the stars of heaven; the fishes in the
depths of the ocean.
The wise man thereupon very naturally requested Setne to tell him the
repository of this marvellous volume, and learned that it was in the
tomb of Nefer-ka-Ptah at Memphis. Thence Setne proceeded, accompanied
by his brother, and passed three days and nights in seeking for the
tomb of Nefer-ka-Ptah, which he eventually discovered. Uttering over
it some magical words, the earth opened, and they descended to the
chamber where the actual tomb was situated. The book, which lay in the
sarcophagus, illuminated the place so brilliantly that they required
no torches, and by its light they perceived in the grave not only its
original inhabitant, but his wife and son, who, buried at Coptos, had
come in their _ka_-shapes to reside with their husband and father. Setne
informed them that he desired to remove the book, but Ahura, the wife
of Nefer-ka-Ptah, earnestly requested him not to do so, and informed
him how its possession had already proved unfortunate to others. Her
husband, she said, had given up most of his time to the study of magic,
and for the price of a hundred pieces of silver and two elaborate
sarcophagi had bought from the priest of Ptah the secret of the
hiding-place of the wonderful volume. The book was contained in an iron
chest sunk in the middle of the river at Coptos; in the iron box was
a bronze box; in the bronze box a box of palm-tree wood, which again
contained a box of ebony and ivory, in which was a silver box, which
lastly contained a gold box, the true receptacle of the book. Swarms of
serpents and noxious reptiles of all kinds guarded the volume, and round
it was coiled a serpent which could not die. Nefer-ka-Ptah, his wife
and child, set out for Coptos, where he obtained from the high-priest
a model of a floating raft and figures of workmen provided with the
necessary tools. Over these he recited words of power, so that they
became alive. Shortly afterward they located the box, and by further
magical formulæ Nefer-ka-Ptah put the reptiles which surrounded it to
flight. Twice he slew the great serpent which lay coiled round the chest
of iron, but each time it came to life again. The third time, however,
he cut it in twain, and laid sand between the two pieces, so that they
might not again join together. Opening the various boxes, he took out
the mysterious volume which they had contained, and read the first spell
upon its pages. This acquainted him with all the secrets of heaven and
earth. He perused the second and saw the sun rising in the heavens, with
all the accompanying gods. His wife followed his example with similar
results. Nefer-ka-Ptah then copied the spells on a piece of papyrus, on
which he sprinkled incense, dissolved the whole in water, and drank it,
thus making certain that the knowledge of the formulæ would remain with
him for ever.
A Game of Draughts with the Dead
But the god Thoth was angry with him for what he had done, and
acquainted Ra with the sacrilegious act. Ra at once decided that
Nefer-ka-Ptah, his wife and child, should never return to Memphis;
and whilst returning to Coptos, Ahura and her son fell into the
river and were drowned. Shortly afterward Nefer-ka-Ptah himself met a
like fate. All that they could say, however, could not prevail with
Setne, who had made up his mind to possess the book. The disembodied
Nefer-ka-Ptah proposed, however, that its ownership should be settled
by playing a game of draughts, the winner to retain the volume. To
this Setne agreed. Nefer-ka-Ptah did his best to win, first honestly,
and then by fraud, but in the end he lost the game. Setne requested
his brother, who had accompanied him into the mausoleum, to ascend to
the place above and bring him his magical writings. This was done, and
the spells in question were laid upon Setne, who grasped the wonderful
book of Thoth and ascended to heaven with marvellous swiftness. As he
departed, however, Nefer-ka-Ptah remarked to his wife that he would
soon make him return. The prophecy of Ahura that Setne would be unlucky
if he persisted in keeping the volume was fully borne out, for he fell
in love with a beautiful woman who worked him much woe, and such were
his troubles that the Pharaoh commanded him to return the book to the
keeping of Nefer-ka-Ptah.
Medical Magic
Magic very naturally played a large part in the practice of Egyptian
medicine. Many illnesses were supposed to be caused by demoniac
possession, and the only cure was the expulsion of the evil spirit who
had taken up his abode in the body of the afflicted person. The Egyptian
physician could not have found the practice of his art very arduous,
for he theoretically divided the human body into thirty-six parts, each
of which was presided over by a certain demon, and if the demon who
attacked a specific part was properly invoked, it was considered that
a cure should result. There were gods of healing for each of the bodily
divisions. Several medical papyri are in existence which contain formulæ
to be employed against the demons of disease, as well as prescriptions
for the remedies to be used in specified cases of illness. Prayers were
prescribed to be spoken while preparing the drugs. Often the unfortunate
patient had to swallow the prescription written upon papyrus. Amulets
were regarded as most efficacious in cases of illness. It is said that
the peculiar letter which figures before modern medical prescriptions,
and which physicians interpret as implying the word 'recipe,' is in
reality an invocation to the god Ra, whose symbol it is, and that it
signifies "in the name of Ra," or "O Ra, God of Light and Health,
inspire me."
Alchemy
It has been averred with much likelihood that the science of alchemy
originated in ancient Egypt. The derivation of the word is usually
referred to the Arabic _al khemeia_, but it has also been stated[6] that
it may be derived from the Egyptian word _kemt_, which means 'black' or
'dusky,' and which was applied to the country on account of the dark
colour of the mud which forms the soil on each side of the Nile. The
Christian Egyptians or Copts, it is thought, transmitted the word in
the form _khême_ to the Greeks, Romans, Syrians, and Arabs. At an early
period in their history the Egyptians had attained to considerable
skill in the working of metals, and according to certain Greek writers
they employed quicksilver in the separation of gold and silver from
the native ore. The detritus which resulted from these processes
formed a black powder, which was supposed to contain within itself
the individualities of the various metals which had contributed to its
composition. In some manner this powder was identified with the body
which the god Osiris was known to possess in the underworld, and to both
were attributed magical qualities, and both were thought to be sources
of light and power. "Thus," says Dr. Budge, "side by side with the
growth of skill in performing the ordinary processes of metal-working
in Egypt, there grew up in that country the belief that magical
powers existed in fluxes and alloys; and the art of manipulating the
metals, and the knowledge of the chemistry of the metals and of their
magical powers, were described by the name _khemeia_--that is to say,
'the preparation of the black ore,' which was regarded as the active
principle in the transmutation." If this ingenious theory be correct, we
have perhaps here not only the genesis of practical alchemy, but also
the origin of a part of alchemistical science, which until recently has
been strangely neglected. The allusion is to spiritual alchemy, which
employed the same symbols and language as were used in the practical
science, and which is credited with containing, in allegory, many a deep
psychical and mystical secret.[7]
Animal Transformation
The idea of animal transformation was evidently a very ancient one in
Egypt. We find from the texts that it was thought that in the future
life both the gods and men were able at will to assume the form of
certain animals, birds, and plants. Nearly twelve chapters of the _Book
of the Dead_ are occupied with spells which provide the deceased with
formulæ to enable him to transform himself into any shape from a bird,
a serpent, or a crocodile to a god in the otherworld. He was able to
assume practically any form, and to swim or fly to any distance in any
direction. Strangely enough, no animal is alluded to in the texts as a
type of his possible transformation.
In his valuable work upon _Egyptian Magic_, by far the most illuminating
text-book on the subject, Dr. Budge says: "The Egyptians believed that
as the souls of the departed could assume the form of any living thing
or plant, so the 'gods,' who in many respects closely resembled them,
could and did take upon themselves the forms of birds and beasts. This
was the fundamental idea of the so-called 'Egyptian animal-worship,'
which provoked the merriment of the cultured Greek, and drew down upon
the Egyptians the ridicule and abuse of the early Christian writers." He
further states that the Egyptians paid honour to certain animal forms
because they considered they possessed the characteristics of the gods,
to whom they made them sacred.
In another chapter we have dealt with the question of the totemic origin
of certain of the Egyptian deities. There can be little doubt that the
origin of the conception whereby the gods took upon themselves the forms
of animals was a totemic one, and not magical at all in its basis.
Regarding Dr. Budge's other statement that it is wrong to say that the
Egyptians worshipped animals in the ordinary sense of the word, one must
differentiate between the attitude of primitive man toward his personal
or tribal totem and toward the full-fledged deity. It is extremely
difficult at this time of day, even with the example of living totemic
tribes before us, to ascertain the exact status of the totem as regards
worship or adoration. The Egyptian god certainly received worship of
a very thorough description, and if he received it in his totem form,
we may take it that it was on account of his status as a deity, and not
as a totem. The contention that the animal form of many of the Egyptian
gods is not of totemic origin is a vain one, and cannot be upheld in the
light of modern researches. To state that the Egyptian gods were not
totemic in their origin simply because they were Egyptian is to take up
a totally untenable position--a position which cannot be supported by a
single shred of evidence.
We do not hear very much concerning animal transformation on earth--that
is, few tales exist which describe the metamorphosis of a sorcerer or
witch into an animal form. So far as one can judge, the idea of the
werewolf or any similar form was unknown in ancient Egypt. But a kindred
type of great antiquity was not wanting--that of the vampire. We do not
find the vampire in any concrete form, but figured as a ghost--indeed,
as the wicked or spiteful dead so common in Hindu, Burmese, and Malay
mythology. The Egyptian ghost slew the sleeping child by sucking its
breath, and, strangely enough, the charm employed against such a being
was the same as that used to-day in the Balkan peninsula against the
attacks of the vampire--to wit, a wreath of garlic, a plant the vampire
is known to detest.
The astrological knowledge of the Egyptians appears to have been
exercised chiefly in the casting of horoscopes. Certain gods presided
over certain periods of time, while others were identified with the
heavenly bodies, and all were supposed to have power over the events
which occurred in the periods subject to their control. In the later
papyri spheres or tables of nativity are found, by means of which
the fate of a man could be calculated from such data as the hour of
his birth and so forth. As among most Oriental peoples, astrological
calendars, stating which days were auspicious or otherwise, were greatly
in vogue, and these were to some extent founded on mythological events
which had taken place on such and such a date, thus lending to it a
certain significance for all time.
Dreams
Dreams were also greatly relied upon in the affairs of life. These were
believed to be sent by the gods, and it is probable that the Egyptian
who was exercised over his private affairs sought his repose in the hope
of being vouchsafed a dream which would guide him in his conduct. Such
a practice is in vogue amongst certain North American Indian tribes
to-day. Savage man goes to sleep trusting that his totem will grant
him a vision for the regulation of his future affairs. If the ancient
Egyptian desired such illumination, he considered it wiser to sleep
within a temple famous as the seat of an oracle. A class of professional
interpreters existed whose business it was to make clear the enigmatic
portions of dreams. It was thought that diseases might be cured by
nostrums communicated by the gods during sleep.
Mummy Magic
The treatment of the mummy and the various ceremonies in connexion with
embalmment were undoubtedly magical in origin. As each bandage was laid
in its exact position certain words of power were uttered which were
supposed to be efficacious in the preservation of the part swathed.
After consecration the priest uttered an invocation to the deceased
and then took a vase of liquid containing ten perfumes, with which he
smeared the body twice from head to foot, taking especial care to anoint
the head thoroughly. The internal organs were at this juncture then
placed on the body, and the backbone immersed in holy oil, supposed to
be an emanation from the gods Shu and Geb. Certain precious stones were
then laid on the mummy, each of which had its magical significance.
Thus crystal lightened his face, and carnelian strengthened his steps.
A priest who personified the jackal-headed god Anubis then advanced,
performed certain symbolical ceremonies on the head of the mummy, and
laid certain bandages upon it. After a further anointing with oil the
deceased was declared to have "received his head." The mummy's left hand
was then filled with thirty-six substances used in embalming, symbolical
of the thirty-six forms of the god Osiris. The body was then rubbed with
holy oil, the toes wrapped in linen, and after an appropriate address
the ceremony was completed.
[1] _Etudes de Mythologie et d'Archéologie Egyptienne_, Paris, 1893,
vol. i, p. 106.
[2] I hope to elaborate this theory more fully in a later work.
[3] For a very full account of Fetishism see my article in the
_Encyclopedia of Religion and Ethics_.
[4] Lefébure, _La Vertu et la Vie du Nom en Egypte_.
[5] This expression _Maā kheru_ etymologically means 'acquitted,' and is
a legal term.
[6] See Budge, _Egyptian Magic_, p. 20.
[7] See A. Waite, _Hidden Church of the Holy Grail_, pp. 533 _et seq._