Where the Egyptians came from, is a difficult question to answer.

Ancient speculators, when they could not derive a people definitely from

any other, took refuge in the statement, or the figment, that they were

the children of the soil which they had always occupied. Modern

theorists may say, if it please them, that they were evolved out of the

monkeys that had their primitive abode on that particular portion of the

earth's surface. Monkeys, however, are not found everywhere; and we have

no evidence that in Egypt they were ever indigenous, though, as pets,

they were very common, the Egyptians delighting in keeping them. Such

evidence as we have reveals to us the man as anterior to the monkey in

the land of Mizraim Thus we are thrown back on the original

question--Where did the man, or race of men, that is found in Egypt at

the dawn of history come from?

It is generally answered that they came from Asia; but this is not much

more than a conjecture. The physical type of the Egyptians is different

from that of any known Asiatic nation. The Egyptians had no traditions

that at all connected them with Asia. Their language, indeed, in

historic times was partially Semitic, and allied to the Hebrew, the

Phœnician, and the Aramaic; but the relationship was remote, and may be

partly accounted for by later intercourse, without involving original

derivation. The fundamental character of the Egyptian in respect of

physical type, language, and tone of thought, is Nigritic. The Egyptians

were not negroes, but they bore a resemblance to the negro which is

indisputable. Their type differs from the Caucasian in exactly those

respects which when exaggerated produce the negro. They were darker, had

thicker lips, lower foreheads, larger heads, more advancing jaws, a

flatter foot, and a more attenuated frame. It is quite conceivable that

the negro type was produced by a gradual degeneration from that which we

find in Egypt. It is even conceivable that the Egyptian type was

produced by gradual advance and amelioration from that of the negro.

Still, whencesoever derived, the Egyptian people, as it existed in the

flourishing times of Egyptian history, was beyond all question a mixed

race, showing diverse affinities. Whatever the people was originally, it

received into it from time to time various foreign elements, and those

in such quantities as seriously to affect its physique--Ethiopians from

the south, Libyans from the west, Semites from the north-east, where

Africa adjoined on Asia. There are two quite different types of Egyptian

form and feature, blending together in the mass of the nation, but

strongly developed, and (so to speak) accentuated in individuals. One is

that which we see in portraits of Rameses III, and in some of Rameses

II.--a moderately high forehead, a large, well-formed aquiline nose, a

well-shaped mouth with lips not over full, and a delicately rounded

chin. The other is comparatively coarse--forehead low, nose depressed

and short, lower part of the face prognathous and sensual-looking, chin

heavy, jaw large, lips thick and projecting. The two types of face are

not, however, accompanied by much difference of frame. The Egyptian is

always slight in figure, wanting in muscle, flat in foot, with limbs

that are too long, too thin, too lady-like. Something more of

muscularity appears, perhaps, in the earlier than in the later forms;

but this is perhaps attributable to a modification of the artistic

ideal.

As Egypt presents us with two types of physique, so it brings before us

two strongly different types of character. On the one hand we see, alike

in the pictured scenes, in the native literary remains, and in the

accounts which foreigners have left us of the people, a grave and

dignified race, full of serious and sober thought, given to speculation

and reflection, occupied rather with the interests belonging to another

world than with those that attach to this present scene of existence,

and inclined to indulge in a gentle and dreamy melancholy. The first

thought of a king, when he began his reign, was to begin his tomb. The

desire of the grandee was similar. It is a trite tale how at feasts a

slave carried round to all the guests the representation of a mummied

corpse, and showed it to each in turn, with the solemn words--"Look at

this, and so eat and drink; for be sure that one day such as this thou

shalt be." The favourite song of the Egyptians, according to Herodotus,

was a dirge. The "Lay of Harper," which we subjoin, sounds a key-note

that was very familiar, at any rate, to large numbers among the

Egyptians.

The Great One[4] has gone to his rest,

Ended his task and his race;

Thus men are aye passing away,

And youths are aye taking their place.

As Ra rises up every morn,

And Turn every evening doth set,

So women conceive and bring forth,

And men without ceasing beget.

Each soul in its turn draweth breath--

Each man born of woman sees Death.

Take thy pleasure to-day,

Father! Holy One! See,

Spices and fragrant oils,

Father, we bring to thee.

On thy sister's bosom and arms

Wreaths of lotus we place;

On thy sister, dear to thy heart,

Aye sitting before thy face.

Sound the song; let music be played

And let cares behind thee be laid.

Take thy pleasure to-day;

Mind thee of joy and delight!

Soon life's pilgrimage ends,

And we pass to Silence and Night.

Patriarch perfect and pure,

Nefer-hotep, blessed one! Thou

Didst finish thy course upon earth,

And art with the blessed ones now.

Men pass to the Silent Shore,

And their place doth know them no more.

They are as they never had been,

Since the sun went forth upon high;

They sit on the banks of the stream

That floweth in stillness by.

Thy soul is among them; thou

Dost drink of the sacred tide,

Having the wish of thy heart--

At peace ever since thou hast died.

Give bread to the man who is poor,

And thy name shall be blest evermore.

* * * * *

Take thy pleasure to-day,

Nefer-hotep, blessed and pure.

What availed thee thy other buildings?

Of thy tomb alone thou art sure.

On the earth thou hast nought beside,

Nought of thee else is remaining;

And when thou wentest below,

Thy last sip of life thou wert draining.

Even they who have millions to spend,

Find that life comes at last to an end.

Let all, then, think of the day

Of departure without returning--

'Twill then be well to have lived,

All sin and injustice spurning.

For he who has loved the right,

In the hour that none can flee,

Enters upon the delight

Of a glad eternity.

Give freely from out thy store,

And thou shalt be blest evermore.

On the other hand, there is evidence of a lightsome, joyous, and even

frolic spirit as pervading numbers, especially among the lower classes

of the Egyptians. "Traverse Egypt," says a writer who knows more of the

ancient country than almost any other living person, "examine the scenes

sculptured or painted on the walls of the chapels attached to tombs,

consult the inscriptions graven on the rocks or traced with ink on the

papyrus rolls, and you will be compelled to modify your mistaken notion

of the Egyptians being a nation of philosophers. I defy you to find

anything more gay, more amusing, more freshly simple, than this

good-natured Egyptian people, which was fond of life and felt a profound

pleasure in its existence. Far from desiring death, they addressed

prayers to the gods to preserve them in life, and to give them a happy

old age--an old age that should reach, if possible, to the 'perfect term

of no years.' They gave themselves up to pleasures of every kind; they

sang, they drank, they danced, they delighted in making excursions into

the country, where hunting and fishing were occupations reserved

especially for the nobility. In conformity with this inclination towards

pleasure, sportive proposals, a pleasantry that was perhaps over-free,

witticisms, raillery, and a mocking spirit, were in vogue among the

people, and fun was allowed entrance even into the tombs. In the large

schools the masters had a difficulty in training the young and keeping

down their passion for amusements. When oral exhortation failed of

success, the cane was used pretty smartly in its place; for the wise men

of the land had a saying that 'a boy's ears grow on his back.'"[5]

Herodotus tells us how gaily the Egyptians kept their festivals,

thousands of the common people--men, women, and children

together--crowding into the boats, which at such times covered the Nile,

the men piping, and the women clapping their hands or striking their

castanets, as they passed from town to town along the banks of the

stream, stopping at the various landing-places, and challenging the

inhabitants to a contest of good-humoured Billingsgate. From the

monuments we see how the men sang at their labours--here as they trod

the wine-press or the dough-trough, there as they threshed out the corn

by driving the oxen through the golden heaps. In one case the words of a

harvest-song have come down to us:

"Thresh for yourselves," they sang, "thresh for yourselves,

O oxen, thresh for yourselves, for yourselves--

Bushels for yourselves, bushels for your masters!"

Their light-hearted drollery sometimes found vent in caricature. The

grand sculptures wherewith a king strove to perpetuate the memory of his

warlike exploits were travestied by satirists, who reproduced the scenes

upon papyrus as combats between cats and rats. The amorous follies of

the monarch were held up to derision by sketches of a harem interior,

where the kingly wooer was represented by a lion, and his favourites of

the softer sex by gazelles. Even in serious scenes depicting the trial

of souls in the next world, the sense of humour breaks out, where the

bad man, transformed into a pig or a monkey, walks off with a comical

air of surprise and discomfiture.

It does not, however, help us much towards the true knowledge of a

people to scan their frames or study their facial angle, or even to

contemplate the outer aspect of their daily life. We want to know their

thoughts, their innermost feelings, their hopes, their fears--in a word,

their belief. Nothing tells the character of a people so much as their

religion; and we are only dealing superficially with the outward shows

of things until we get down to the root of their being, the conviction,

or convictions, held in the recesses of a people's heart. What, then,

was the Egyptian religion? What did they worship? What did they

reverence? What future did they look forward to?

Enter the huge courts of an Egyptian temple, or temple-palace, and you

will see portrayed upon its lofty walls row upon row of deities. Here

the king makes his offering to Ammon, Maut, Khons, Neith, Mentu, Shu,

Seb, Nut, Osiris, Set, Horus; there he pours a libation to Phthah,

Sekhet, Tum, Pasht, Anuka, Thoth, Anubis; elsewhere, it may be, he pays

his court to Sati, Khem, Isis, Nephthys, Athor, Harmachis, Nausaas, and

Nebhept. One monarch erects an altar to Satemi, Tum, Khepra, Shu,

Tefnut, Seb, Netpe, Osiris, Isis, Set, Nephthys, Horus, and Thoth,

mentioning on the same monument Phthah, Num, Sabak, Athor, Pasht, Mentu,

Neith, Anubis, Nishem, and Kartak. Another represents himself on a

similar object as offering adoration to Ammon, Khem, Phthah-Sokari, Seb,

Nut, Thoth, Khons, Osiris, Isis, Horus, Athor, Uat (Buto), Neith,

Sekhet, Anata, Nuneb, Nebhept, and Hapi. All these deities are

represented by distinct forms, and have distinct attributes. Nor do they

at all exhaust the Pantheon. One modern writer enumerates seventy-three

divinities, and gives their several names and forms. Another has a list

of sixty-three "_principal_ deities," and notes that there were "others

which personified the elements, or presided over the operations of

nature, the seasons, and events." The Egyptians themselves speak not

unfrequently of "the _thousand_ gods," sometimes further qualifying

them, as "the gods male, the gods female, those which belong to the land

of Egypt." Practically, there were before the eyes of worshippers some

scores, if not some hundreds, of deities, who invited their approach and

challenged their affections.

Nor was this the whole, or the worst. The Egyptian was taught to pay a

religious regard to animals. In one place goats, in another sheep, in a

third hippopotami, in a fourth crocodiles, in a fifth vultures, in a

sixth frogs, in a seventh shrew-mice, were sacred creatures, to be

treated with respect and honour, and under no circumstances to be slain,

under the penalty of death to the slayer. And besides this local

animal-cult, there was a cult which was general. Cows, cats, dogs,

ibises, hawks, and cynocephalous apes, were sacred throughout the whole

of Egypt, and woe to the man who injured them! A Roman who accidentally

caused the death of a cat was immediately "lynched" by the populace.

Inhabitants of neighbouring villages would attack each other with the

utmost fury if the native of one had killed or eaten an animal held

sacred in the other. In any house where a cat or a dog died, the inmates

were expected to mourn for them as for a relation. Both these and the

other sacred animals were carefully embalmed after death, and their

bodies were interred in sacred repositories.

The animal-worship reached its utmost pitch of grossness and absurdity

when certain individual brute beasts were declared to be incarnate

deities, and treated accordingly. At Memphis, the ordinary capital,

there was maintained, at any rate from the time of Aahmes I. (about B.C.

1650), a sacred bull, known as Hapi or Apis, which was believed to be an

actual incarnation of the god Phthah, and was an object of the highest

veneration. The Apis bull dwelt in a temple of his own near the city,

had his train of attendant priests, his harem of cows, his meals of the

choicest food, his grooms and currycombers who kept his coat clean and

beautiful, his chamberlains who made his bed, his cup-bearers who

brought him water, &c., and on fixed days was led in a festive

procession through the main streets of the town, so that the inhabitants

might see him, and come forth from their dwellings and make obeisance.

When he died he was carefully embalmed, and deposited, together with

magnificent jewels and statuettes and vases, in a polished granite

sarcophagus, cut out of a single block, and weighing between sixty and

seventy tons! The cost of an Apis funeral amounted sometimes, as we are

told, to as much as £20,000. To contain the sarcophagi, several long

galleries were cut in the solid rock near Memphis, from which arched

lateral chambers went off on either side, each constructed to hold one

sarcophagus. The number of Apis bulls buried in the galleries was found

to be sixty-four.

Nor was this the only incarnate god of which Egypt boasted. Another

bull, called Mnevis, was maintained in the great temple of the Sun at

Heliopolis, and, being regarded as an incarnation of Ra or Tum, was as

much reverenced by the Heliopolites as Apis by the Memphites, A third,

called Bacis or Pacis, was kept at Hermonthis, which was also an

incarnation of Ra. And a white cow at Momemphis was reckoned an

incarnation of Athor. Who can wonder that foreign nations ridiculed a

religion of this kind--one that "turned the glory" of the Eternal

Godhead "into the similitude of a calf that eateth hay"?

The Egyptians had also a further god incarnate, who was not shut up out

of sight like the Apis and Mnevis and Bacis bulls and the Athor cow, but

was continually before their eyes, the centre of the nation's life, the

prime object of attention. This was the monarch, who for the time being

occupied the throne. Each king of Egypt claimed not only to be "son of

the Sun," but to be an actual incarnation of the sun--"the living

Horus." And this claim was, from an early date, received and allowed.

"Thy Majesty," says a courtier under the twelfth dynasty, "is the good

God ... the great God, the equal of the Sun-God. ... I live from the

breath which thou givest" Brought into the king's presence, the courtier

"falls on his belly," amazed and confounded. "I was as one brought out

of the dark; my tongue was dumb; my lips failed me; my heart was no

longer in my body to know whether I was alive or dead;" and this,

although "the god" had "addressed him mildly." Another courtier

attributes his long life to the king's favour. Ambassadors, when

presented to the king, "raised their arms in adoration of the good god,"

and declared to him--"Thou art like the Sun in all that thou doest: thy

heart realizes all its wishes; shouldest thou wish to make it day during

the night, it is so forthwith.... If thou sayest to the water, 'Come

from the rock,' it will come in a torrent suddenly at the words of thy

mouth. The god Ra is like thee in his limbs, the god Khepra in creative

force. Truly thou art the living image of thy father, Tum.... All thy

words are accomplished daily." Some of the kings set up their statues in

the temples by the side of the greatest of the national deities, to be

the objects of a similar worship.

Amid this wealth of gods, earthly and heavenly, human, animal, and

divine, an Egyptian might well feel puzzled to make a choice. In his

hesitation he was apt to turn to that only portion of his religion which

had the attraction that myth possesses--- the introduction into a

supramundane and superhuman world of a quasi-human element. The chief

Egyptian myth was the Osirid saga, which ran somewhat as follows: "Once

upon a time the gods were tired of ruling in the upper sphere, and

resolved to take it in turns to reign over Egypt in the likeness of men.

So, after four of them had in succession been kings, each for a long

term of years, it happened that Osiris, the son of Seb and Nut, took the

throne, and became monarch of the two regions, the Upper and the Lower.

Osiris was of a good and bountiful nature, beneficent in will and words:

he set himself to civilize the Egyptians, taught them to till the fields

and cultivate the vine, gave them law and religion, and instructed them

in various useful arts. Unfortunately, he had a wicked brother, called

Set or Sutekh, who hated him for his goodness, and resolved to compass

his death. This he effected after a while, and, having placed the body

in a coffin, he threw it into the Nile, whence it floated down to the

sea. Isis, the sister and widow of Osiris, together with her sister

Nephthys, vainly sought for a long time her lord's remains, but at last

found them on the Syrian shore at Byblus, where they had been cast up by

the waves. She was conveying the corpse for embalmment and interment to

Memphis, when Set stole it from her, and cut it up into fourteen pieces,

which he concealed in various places. The unhappy queen set forth in a

light boat made of the papyrus plant, and searched Egypt from end to

end, until she had found all the fragments, and buried them with due

honours. She then called on her son, Horus, to avenge his father, and

Horus engaged him in a long war, wherein he was at last victorious and

took Set prisoner. Isis now relented, and released Set, who be it

remembered, was her brother; which so enraged Horus that he tore off her

crown, or (according to some) struck off her head, which injury Thoth

repaired by giving her a cow's head in place of her own. Horus then

renewed the war with his uncle, and finally slew him with a long spear,

which he drove into his head." The gods and goddesses of the Osirid

legend, Seb, Nut or Netpe, Osiris, Isis, Nephthys, Set, and Horus or

Harmachis, were those which most drew towards them the thoughts of the

Egyptians, the greater number being favourite objects of worship, while

Set was held in general detestation.

It was a peculiar feature of the Egyptian religion, that it contained

distinctively evil and malignant gods. Set was not, originally, such a

deity; but he became such in course of time, and was to the later

Egyptians the very principle of evil--Evil personified. Another evil

deity was Taour or Taourt, who is represented as a hippopotamus standing

on its hind-legs, with the skin and tail of a crocodile dependent down

its back, and a knife or a pair of shears in one hand. Bes seems also to

have been a divinity of the same class. He was represented as a hideous

dwarf, with large outstanding ears, bald, or with a plume of feathers on

his head, and with a lion-skin down his back, often carrying in his two

hands two knives. Even more terrible than Bes was Apep, the great

serpent, with its huge and many folds, who helped Set against Osiris,

and was the adversary and accuser of souls. Savak, a god with the head

of a crocodile, seems also to have belonged to the class of malignant

beings, though he was a favourite deity with some of the Ramesside

kings, and a special object of worship in the Fayoum.

[Illustrations: FIGURES OF TAOURT.]

The complex polytheism of the monuments and the literature was not,

however, the practical religion of many Egyptians. Local cults held

possession of most of the nomes, and the ordinary Egyptian, instead of

dissipating his religious affections by distributing them among the

thousand divinities of the Pantheon, concentrated them on those of his

nome. If he was a Memphite, he worshipped Phthah Sekhet, and Tum; if a

Theban, Ammon-Ra, Maut, Khons, and Neith; if a Heliopolite, Tum, Nebhebt

and Horus; if a Elephantinite, Kneph, Sati, Anuka, and Hak; and so on.

The Egyptian Pantheon was a gradual accretion, the result of

amalgamating the various local cults; but these continued predominant in

their several localities; and practically the only deities that obtained

anything like a general recognition were Osiris, Isis, Horus, and the

Nile-god, Hapi.

[Illustration: FIGURE OF BES.]

Besides the common popular religion, the belief of the masses, there was

another which prevailed among the priests and among the educated. The

primary doctrine of this esoteric religion was the real essential unity

of the Divine Nature. The sacred texts, known only to the priests and to

the initiated, taught that there was a single Being, "the sole producer

of all things both in heaven and earth, himself not produced of any,"

"the only true living God, self-originated," "who exists from the

beginning," "who has made all things, but has not himself been made."

This Being seems never to have been represented by any material, even

symbolical, form. It is thought that he had no name, or, if he had, that

it must have been unlawful to pronounce or write it. He was a pure

spirit, perfect in every respect--all-wise, almighty, supremely good. It

is of him that the Egyptian poets use such expressions as the following:

"He is not graven in marble; he is not beheld; his abode is not known;

no shrine is found with painted figures of him; there is no building

that can contain him;" and, again: "Unknown is his name in heaven; he

doth not manifest his forms; vain are all representations;" and yet

again: "His commencement is from the beginning; he is the God who has

existed from old time; there is no God without him; no mother bore him;

no father hath begotten him; he is a god-goddess, created from himself;

all gods came into existence when he began."

The other gods, the gods of the popular mythology were understood in

the esoteric religion to be either personified attributes of the Deity,

or parts of the nature which he had created, considered as informed and

inspired by him. Num or Kneph represented the creative mind, Phthah the

creative hand, or act of creating; Maut represented matter, Ra the sun,

Khons the moon, Seb the earth, Khem the generative power in nature, Nut

the upper hemisphere of the heavens, Athor the lower world or under

hemisphere; Thoth personified the Divine Wisdom, Ammon perhaps the

Divine mysteriousness or incomprehensibility, Osiris the Divine

Goodness. It is difficult in many cases to fix on the exact quality,

act, or part of nature intended; but the principle admits of no doubt.

No educated Egyptian conceived of the popular gods as really separate

and distinct beings. All knew that there was but One God, and understood

that, when worship was offered to Khem, or Kneph, or Maut, or Thoth, or

Ammon, the One God was worshipped under some one of his forms or in some

one of his aspects. He was every god, and thus all the gods' names were

interchangeable, and in one and the same hymn we may find a god, say

Ammon, addressed also as Ra and Khem and Turn and Horus and Khepra; or

Hapi, the Nile-god, invoked as Ammon and Phthah; or Osiris as Ra and

Thoth; or, in fact, any god invoked as almost any other. If there be a

limit, it is in respect of the evil deities, whose names are not given

to the good ones.

Ancient Egypt · 第 2 / 24 段