BOOK I.

THE

LIFE

OF

_SETHOS_.

TAKEN FROM

+Private Memoirs+

OF THE

Ancient _EGYPTIANS_.

Translated from a _Greek_ +Manuscript+

into +French+.

And now faithfully done into _English_ from

the _Paris_ +Edition+;

By Mr. _LEDIARD_.

In +Two Volumes+.

+Vol. I.+

_LONDON_:

Printed for +J. Walthoe+, over-against the

_Royal-Exchange_ in _Cornhill_.

M.DCC.XXXII.

[Illustration: _A MAP_ of EGYPT for the Life _OF_ SETHOS.]

[Illustration: Decorative header]

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._

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LICENCE.

By Order of the +Lord Keeper+ of the +Seals+, I have read a

Manuscript, entitled: _The_ +Life+ _of_ +Sethos+; _taken from

private Memoirs of the ancient_ Egyptians, _translated from a_ Greek

_Manuscript_. This Work, which contains excellent Lessons of the

most refin’d Morality, and is full of solid, and the most extensive

Learning, can’t fail of being equally instructive and curious.

_Paris, Jan. 29, 1731._

=Lancelot.=

_ERRATA._

VOL. I. _P._ 64, _l._ 24. _read_ advantage. 103,6. _r._ adopted.

114,2. _in the notes for_ his _r._ the. 160,2. _for_ lanes _r._ lines.

185,23. _r._ complaisance. 240,16. _r._ I had, _&c._ 279,9. _r._ the

discretion. 354,5. _after_ ramparts _add a_ (,). 358,13. _dele_ (,).

383,22. _dele_ (,). 386,19. _r._ ruling. 390,3. _r._ companion.

VOL. II. _P._ 62, _l._ 5. _after_ settlement _add_ in the city. 68,27.

_r._ predecessor. 275,20. _r._ governor. 315,18. _after_ they _add_

likewise. 324,2. _dele_ (,) _after_ were, _and place it after_ yet.

341,15. _after_ judge, _add_ only. 342,1. _r._ besieger. 432,24. _for_

still _r._ swell.

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THE

LIFE

OF

_SETHOS_.

BOOK I.

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.

[1] The preceding genealogies are conformable to those of Marsham; but

what follows seems to agree with the chronology of father Pezron.

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.

[2] Kirk. Oed. Ægyp. tom. 4 p. 162. & Marsham, p. 431. ed. in fol.

[3] Diodorus, l. 1.

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.

[4] Plin. lib. 2. c. 35. Sen. quæst. nat. lib. 6. c. 26.

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.

[5] See the Egyptian origines of Perizonius, p. 47. under the column,

ex African. also the 38, and 49 pages, in which Manethon is alledg’d to

be the first author of the sequels of Africanus and Eusebius.

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.

[6] Clem. Alex. Strom. 6.

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.

[7] Strab. l. 17. Herod. l. 2.

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]

[8] Vid. Kirch. tom. 1. p. 113.

[9] This hymn has a conformity to the inscriptions upon the columns

of Osiris and Isis, mention’d by Diod. l. 1. Apul. Metam. l. 11. and

others.

Osiris, pow’r, from earliest times, that springs,

Victor and patron of this mighty ball,

Branch of our gods, and stem of all our kings,

Husband of Isis, sovereign lord of all:

Save from too hard, but, ah! impending fate,

A pious monarch’s wise and watchful mate,

Religion’s prop, and safeguard of the state.

Isis, sole goddess; thro’ the world ador’d;

In mysteries conceal’d, in bounties seen;

One deity by various names implor’d,

In various places; of those regions queen,

Where springs, and is reserv’d, the sacred flood,

Which being gives, and proves earth’s vital blood,

When from thy urn thou pourst th’ irriguous good.

Type of our queen, and ancestor, ordain,

If to thy virtues, as thy worship, true,

Memphis she gave again to feel thy reign,

That these our tears fate’s rigour may subdue.

In saving Nephte, thy own glory save,

The spouse, the subjects, and the son you gave,

All doom’d alike to perish in her grave.

Horus, thou god of silence, wisdom taught,

Who shield’st from harms the weakness of the good,

To full maturity by years unbrought:

Protect our prince, thy image, and thy blood.

O guard his royal youth with tender care,

Assume the task thy mother Isis bare

For thee, of equal years, her infant heir.

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.

[10] Pomp. Mela.

[11] Euseb. Præpar. Evan. l. 4. c. 16. ex. Porph.

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.

[12] Diodor. l. 1.

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.

[13] Herodotus, l. 2.

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.

[14] Diodorus, l. 1. sect. 2.

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.

[15] Odyss. 24.

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.

[16] Diodor. l. 1. §. 2.

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.

[17] Diodor. l. 18.

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.

[18] Vid. Plut. Treatise of Osiris and Isis, and others.

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.

[19] By comparing the relations of the ancients to those of the moderns,

the labyrinth seems to have been situate between the two lakes Charon

and Mœris.

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:

[20] Diodor. l. 1. §. 2. & Ælian. variar. hist. l. 14.

“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.”

[21] There were in Egypt 20,000 cities, Plin. l. 5. c. 9. & Pomp. Mela.

But Theocritus Idyl. 17. reckons 33,339 under Ptolom. Philad.

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.

[22] Diodorus reckons it 3600 stadia in circumference; 24 stadia making

a league of 3000 paces.

[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.

[23] _Vid._ Paul Lucas’s Egypt corrected and amended by M. l’Abbe

Banier.

_End of the_ +First Book+.

[Illustration: Decorative header]

THE

LIFE

OF

_SETHOS_.

The life of Sethos, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 1 / 7 章