BOOK III.

The war with which the king of Memphis was threaten’d, particularly on

the part of Thebes, fill’d Sethos with a secret joy; for he concluded,

that war only would furnish him with means of making those experiments

which Amedes expected from him. This wise governor, who perceiv’d it,

told him one day, that tho’ in the enterprize he had mention’d to him,

on occasion of the pyramid, there were no blows nor combating with

armed enemies requir’d; he could not enough commend the good there was

in the confus’d sentiment which had inclin’d him to war; but, added

he, I should ill perform the function I have the honour of exercising

in the service of a prince born to the throne, if I did not inform

him, that a king, who loves his subjects, always looks upon war as a

misfortune: and, in order to prevent it, uses all efforts that do not

derogate either from his establish’d rights, or his due honour. From

this maxim, deeply engraven in the heart of a king, results a principle

of true bravery, the more ardent in the defence of his own property, as

it is less inclin’d to invade that of others. Most princes, who upon

every occasion are taking up arms, spend their days in a continual

alternative of good or bad success, which makes their enemies fear

them but little, and value them less: Whereas on the contrary, a

prince who is stedfast in his just pretensions, and gives no subject

of complaint to his neighbours, is respected: Remember therefore, my

lord, never to make war from a fancy or inclination to it; but when

you are compell’d to it, do it in such a manner as may take away that

pleasure and inclination in your enemy. Sethos answer’d, that he was

sensible of the importance of this advice to a prince actually upon

the throne; but, continu’d he, the war I am inclin’d to, is a war in

which I have no part, and in which all I have to do is, to fight for

the king my father, without enquiring, as I take it I have no right

to do, into the merits of the cause. You say true, my lord, reply’d

Amedes; and a young prince ought even to set a great value upon every

lawful occasion offer’d by which he can give proof of his valour; that

whenever he comes to have the care of the tranquillity and happiness of

a whole nation, he may avoid a war without being apprehensive of any

reflections on that account to the prejudice of his person. However,

that your wishes may not be continued for a war, in all appearance

so fatal, as that which is kindled against the kingdom, I have laid

hold of an opportunity which the gods seem to have thrown into my way,

to exercise both your prudence and valour at the same time, and to

advantage.

The frontier-towns of the kingdom of Memphis on the side of Libya, as

Plinthinus, Taposiris, Scyatis, Oasis the lesser, and several others,

have acquainted me, by a private deputation, that they have been sorely

afflicted by a hideous serpent in their neighbourhood; which, as they

believe, has his retreat in a den of mount Aspis, and ravages all the

plain, call’d the little Catabathmus; where they are oblig’d to seek

their sustenance. They at first thought of desiring the assistance of

the king’s huntsmen; but then they imagin’d, that the queen, being

taken up with affairs which she would think of greater importance,

would be little concern’d at a misfortune which could not penetrate to

the royal mansions; and especially as she had already let the nomarchs

or governors know, that she requir’d no other care of them, with regard

to their provinces, than to levy the imposts, and to prevent revolts.

Besides, added he, it is very well known, that the court has no taste

for fatiguing and hazardous exercises; and that of all those who now

compose it, not one would be ready to undertake an expedition, where

no other advantage is to be hop’d but the welfare of the people. They

therefore apply to me in the conclusion, as to the governor of a

prince, in whose virtuous inclination the hopes of the whole kingdom

center, and whose example animates the flower of the youth of Memphis

to the most noble exercises of body and mind: Adding, That if this

prince would, under my care, be their leader in the expedition, they

would receive him in every place he should pass thro’ with all the

marks of respect and gratitude due to his rank and worth. I immediately

undertook for you, and for some other young lords, your academical

companions, who would be proud of the honour of accompanying you. But

I told the deputy, that to avoid all appearance of affectation, we

would appoint a hunting-match; that for the same reason we would make

no stop, either in going or returning, at any city of note; and that

they should, upon no account, make any preparations to receive you that

could have the appearance of ceremony: it was with the same view, that

I dispatch’d this deputy as privately as he came, without allowing

him so much as to wait on you. Sethos was pleas’d with all these

precautions on his part, and thank’d him as well for his zeal as his

care. Amedes immediately interrupting him, said, that since he approv’d

of all the measures he had taken, he advised him to depart early the

next morning, to prevent any obstacle that might hinder their journey.

That he should therefore employ the remainder of the day in selecting,

with all the prudence of an able chief, such of the young noblemen his

companions, as best deserv’d to be confided in, because they would find

upon the spot all the men they should want to make up a number: And

finally, that he should recommend to them all to speak no otherwise of

their expedition, than of a customary hunting of wild beasts.

Sethos having given notice to his eight companions, whom we have

already mention’d, they all took horse the next morning, attended

only by some slaves, and rode along the north side of the lake Moeris.

Amedes, for their greater encouragement, told them, during their

journey, that great hunting-matches were by the antient heroes look’d

upon as an apprenticeship to war; not only on account of the long

courses they were oblig’d to run, the inconveniencies they were liable

to, and, in a word, all the bodily fatigues this exercise demanded of

them; but far more by reason of the judgment, nice observation, and

exact knowledge of the hills, valleys, and by-ways, which a hunter was

oblig’d to acquire: But, added he, the hunting you are now going about

is a real war: Its motive, in the first place, is the only one which

in general can render war lawful; that is, the defence of the people.

For whereas hunting with most great men is but a savage passion, which

puts them upon destroying the innocent animals of the woods and fields,

and often spoiling the lands thro’ which they pass; you are going to

deliver a whole people from a monster that destroys their harvest, and

devours their sheep and shepherds: nay, you have the resolution to go

in search of a dreadful serpent, which, according to report, is of

an enormous size and length, cover’d all over with scales, that are

proof, as I am inform’d, against all darts. Shall we then confine

ourselves to shut him up in his den, if we can discover the entrance?

But tho’ it should have no more than one outlet, it will be easy for

him in time to force a way thro’. Shall we be contented to drive him

out of the plain of Catabathmus, and beyond the mountains of Libya, by

force of our numbers and cries? But as soon as we are departed, he may

return again: And besides, it would not be generous to throw upon our

neighbours, tho’ our enemies, a desolation from which we may have just

deliver’d our own country. I dare propose to you, my lords, a project

more worthy of you. Let us endeavour to take this monster alive, and

carry him in triumph into the king’s park. Thereby you will accustom

yourselves to an advantageous practice in almost all the incidents of

life, which is to prefer skill to force. The youth were all charm’d at

this proposal of Amedes, and promis’d him faithfully to obey his orders

in the execution of this design. He answer’d them, That prince Sethos,

who however should never be out of his sight, must be their leader in

this expedition. That by commanding them, he would learn to make an

advantageous use, not only of the valour, but of the advice of his

officers; and that consequently, as in a well-disciplin’d army, and a

war duly concerted, every one would have a share in the glory of the

success, in proportion not only to his valour, but to his knowledge.

After six days march, our warriors having discover’d the nearest point

of mount Aspis, imagin’d that the monster made his retreat thither to

be the nearer to the inhabited and fertile plains. They had already

observ’d his tracks by means of slime he had left upon the corn and

hedges, which he had laid even with the ground. But, as yet, they had

not seen any person who could tell them where he was; because the very

noise of his scales, which was to be heard at a great distance, made

all the inhabitants of the plain fly before him; after he had devour’d

some persons, who, thinking themselves out of his reach, stopp’d to

view him. They only remark’d, that he made a very short stay in places

at a little distance from the mountain; and that he return’d thither

as soon as he had made prey of any cattle in the meadows. Our noble

hunters, that they might be more sure of their game, continu’d their

way toward mount Aspis. They were not above half a league from it,

when they discover’d between them and the mountain a large morass,

and behind it a sort of hillock, which look’d as if cover’d over with

leaves of ising-glass, that glitter’d in the sun. Fixing their eyes

upon this object, they soon perceiv’d some motion. They immediately

stopp’d to observe it with the greater attention: And it appear’d to

be the monster roll’d about itself, that chang’d its posture without

shifting its place. Sethos, who now began to exercise his office

of commander, address’d himself to the company, and said, My dear

companions, as our design is to take this monster alive, I presume,

the first thing necessary will be to know exactly his length and

bulk, that we may be the better acquainted with the enemy we are to

encounter; and the rather, since without doubt we shall be oblig’d to

convey him away, like other savage creatures, in an iron cage, into

which we must find means to put him: ’Tis of importance therefore now

to know his dimensions, that we may, as soon as possible, order one

to be made in the nearest town. In order to this, it is my opinion,

that we all march slowly on one side of this animal, like a caravan

pursuing its way, without making the least sign of attacking him. It

is the nature of all savage animals to avoid mankind, especially when

they march in companies, unless they are excited by wrath or hunger.

The present tranquil state of this monster gives us no reason to think

he is disturb’d by either, so that I fancy he will retire as soon as he

sees us. Then let us endeavour to observe at a distance such objects,

as trees or large stones, which when he stretches out to his full

length, he may reach with the two extremities of his body; and when

we are on the other side of the morass, we will measure the distances.

Sethos appointed some of them, whose peculiar business it should be

to make these observations: Others he nam’d to remark the bulk of the

serpent, by comparing it with the height of any thing he might pass

by; and with the rest, among whom was Amedes, he undertook to keep the

monster always in sight, and even to advance near enough to discover,

if possible, the entrance into his den. Amedes shew’d by his punctual

obedience, his approbation of what his pupil had propos’d.

What Sethos foresaw, actually happen’d. As soon as the serpent

perceiv’d at a distance this troop of horsemen, together with the

slaves of about twenty persons, he began to unfold himself: His

triangular head rising as it were out of the basis of the cone, which

was form’d by all the Revolvings of his body, he at first erected, by

easy degrees, to the height of two men; but he immediately popp’d it

down again, and made off towards the mountain: With the middle of his

body he form’d a ring or circle; the diameter of which was equal to

the height he had lifted his head to: The lower part of this circle

towards the tail serv’d as a rest, by means of which he push’d himself

forward without any rebound, and very slowly. However, the length of

each of these motions soon brought him to the foot of the mountain, and

left the place entirely free for them to take measure of his track.

Upon an exact calculation, they found his length to be near 45 feet,

and the thickest part of his body, which was his head, about 6 feet in

diameter, or about 18 or 19 in circumference. While most of these young

huntsmen were busied in making this calculation, Sethos, Amedes, and

three or four more follow’d the monster: They kept as much as possible

out of his sight, by going the most round-about or by-ways which the

situation of the place would admit of, for fear he should seek to

conceal the place of his retreat, as is common for some animals when

they find they are discover’d. He compass’d the basis of the first peak

of the mountain, till he got almost over-against the morass from whence

he came: Here the basis of the second peak began, and betwixt both was

a pretty long and narrow avenue to the serpent’s den. Our observers

had the pleasure to see him enter at a gap or passage, that he almost

fill’d up, and through which he dragg’d his body with difficulty,

because he could not form it into a circle as in the open field.

After these observations, which were made the first evening they

arriv’d, Sethos conducted his troop to the place where he propos’d

to reside till the conclusion of their expedition; which was in the

neighbourhood of Scyathis.

As they were conversing together upon what they had seen, Sethos

observ’d to them, that this serpent being by nature much like an adder,

its activity lay only in his head, and in the part that might be call’d

his tail; which was about twelve feet to the first joint, where his

body began to form a circle when he roll’d along. The first degree

of valour, added he, and indeed the only one we shall want upon this

occasion, is, to know the just extent of the danger, and not to be

terrify’d with the approach of it, when in reality we are out of its

reach: And even supposing that the rage of the creature should make

him more nimble and formidable than it seems to be, yet I judge by his

unweildiness, we need only keep at eight or ten feet from him to be

secure from all manner of danger.

The next morning Sethos, accompany’d by Amedes, who had entirely

approv’d his project, and by three of their companions, to whom he

afterwards open’d it, took their way towards the den. Their design

was to enter it when the monster was absent, to see if there was any

possibility of laying snares there to entrap him. The first of those

centinels, whom he had detach’d to observe the monster’s motions, had

given information that he had quitted his den a little before day,

and made directly towards the morass, into which he plung’d; and that

afterward, crawling toward the north-side of the plain, his comrades,

before they follow’d him, had agreed, that as fast as one advanc’d,

the others behind should be within call of one another, that they

might successively give notice one to the other of the monster’s

return. Sethos being thereby safe from a surprize, enter’d first into

the den: They had all provided themselves with light iron boots, a

precaution common among the Egyptians, when they only walk’d in the

fields, to secure them against those stinging insects which come with

the African winds in some seasons of the year. On the left, they found

a natural arch, where, at intervals, drops of water trickled down a

stony sloaping soil; and on the right, a bed of clay, which by several

marks seem’d to be the place where the serpent lay: At the end of this

cavern was another opening, thro’ which they might have gone farther:

But as they were not led there by a motive of curiosity, they did not

go near to it. It was enough for Sethos, that he found the inside of

the cave was capacious enough to hold a cage, contriv’d in such a

manner as might serve not only to contain the animal, when taken, but

as a trap to catch him. So having made all the observations necessary

for this design, he left the cave, and hasten’d to Scyathis, where,

with his four companions, he apply’d himself immediately to the chief

magistrates, and demanded of them for his atchievement 3000 men of the

militia of their province, but not of those appointed for the military

service of the year: He told them, that tho’ he believ’d these soldiers

capable of exposing themselves to the greatest perils in case of

necessity, he would be answerable for every danger, if they punctually

obey’d the orders of the young lords he should appoint to be their

captains. He order’d the troops to be ready in three days at Scyathis,

arm’d with bucklers, swords and quivers of arrows, without forgetting

their trumpets and kettle-drums. And to conclude, he desir’d an order

might be sent to all the smiths in the town to apply themselves

immediately to the making of a machine according to the plan he should

give them.

This young prince having obtain’d his demands, with great

acknowledgements from those who granted them, he order’d the smiths to

make a cage of eight feet square, and fifty long: The sides were to be

of bars of iron, so contriv’d as to be taken out, and set in again with

ease. The master bars, which were to receive the extremities of the

others, were likewise to be rivetted in one another, and the whole to

be plac’d upon low wheels, at ten feet distance: At the entrance into

this cage were to be plac’d spikes of iron, in such manner that they

might give way to the monster at going in; but if he should endeavour

to come out, might fasten in his scales and stop him. The reason for

ordering it in several pieces, was not only that several smiths might

work at it at the same time, but that it might be transported in

several parts with ease to the place where it was to be employ’d. The

whole was undertaken, and perform’d in three days; and the troops being

assembled at the same time, Sethos appointed the fourth day in the

morning for the execution of the enterprize.

Having plac’d centinels the evening before, as he did the first

time, to observe which way the monster took at leaving his den in

the morning, he caus’d all the pieces of the cage to be transported

thither in carts by day-break. It was put together in less than three

hours, and stopp’d at the end, and on both sides, by pieces of the

rock which they found in the cavern. The mouth of the cage being a

little wider than the entrance into the den, it would not be perceiv’d

by the monster, especially in the disturbance which Sethos propos’d

to give him. He next order’d a detachment of his troops to file off

one by one, with the greatest silence, toward the place where they

knew the serpent then was, and to get beyond him to the other side of

the entrance into the cave; while another detachment beset his haunt.

At this first motion, the monster, who did not yet perceive he was

pursu’d, made the best of his way, as he had done before, towards his

cave: but discovering a long train of people at a distance, he stopp’d,

and soon after began to hiss in a horrible manner. Sethos’s companions

then gave orders for the troops to join, and to close their ranks by

degrees: At the same time he caus’d them to sound all their trumpets,

and beat their kettledrums, while one part of the soldiers, as they

had agreed, clash’d their swords upon their bucklers; and a greater

number, gall’d him with thousands of arrows. The monster perceiving

he had resolute enemies to encounter with, who notwithstanding his

motions and furious menaces, baffled him, by drawing near to, and

retiring from him, and who besides had shut up all retreat but to his

den, hasten’d thither faster than he had done before. The noise of

the military instruments, the shouts of the soldiers, and the storm

of arrows, pursu’d him more and more. It was observ’d, that soon

after he had got his head into the cage, he made an attempt to slip

back again; but being stopp’d by the spikes of the bars, and finding

himself more closely pursu’d, he chose to take refuge in his prison.

He push’d forwards with all the activity he was capable of, deceiv’d,

perhaps, by the hopes of getting out at the other end, and escaping by

those out-lets which he knew were in his cavern. He was immediately

follow’d by those who were order’d to put in the bars at the entrance

into the cage; who having likewise widen’d the entrance into the den,

with the help of tools they had convey’d thither for that purpose,

they drew the cage out with a long team of horses. The inhabitants of

the neighbouring towns and villages, who were there in throngs to be

eye-witnesses of this expedition, saw the monster stretch’d out at

his length, and turning his eyes sometimes on one side and sometimes

on the other, without any marks of fury. Sethos disbanded his troops

on the spot, without returning to the town, that he might avoid all

the ceremonies of thanks. He commended their exact obedience to the

least signs given to them by their commanders, in which they were

exercised perfectly. The monster was drawn in his cage backwards, that

all objects which might present to his view in the passage, might the

less disturb him: And thus he was conducted to the lake Moeris; where

Sethos, for the greater ease, put him on board a vessel to be convey’d

by water. Sethos and his companions accompany’d him to Memphis; but he

would not allow any food to be given him during the whole passage,

well knowing that serpents would live much longer without eating.

Diodorus[53] relates the hunting and taking of a serpent of as monstrous

a size as this; And our own travellers pretend to have seen some

of above 100 feet long; but no one ever question’d the truth of

Diodorus’s relation of that monster he mention’d in the place quoted.

It was brought out of Ethiopia to Alexandria in the reign of Ptolomy

Philadelphus. The generosity of this prince, which was to none more

extensive, than to those who presented him with curiosities, was a

motive to some bold men to make him a present of this kind. Some of

them lost their lives at the first onset; but at last, they tam’d the

monster by expedients not very different from those I have related from

my authors, under the name of Sethos. Diodorus adds, that by fasting

they made him as tame as other domestick animals.

[53] Lib. 3.

Tho’ Osoroth was not so taken with the wonders of nature, or the

industry of men, as Ptolomy has since been, he receiv’d his son, and

the young noblemen his companions, with great encomiums. The queen, for

her part, was secretly disturb’d at this first exploit of Sethos; and

Amedes thinking to overcome evil with good, from this time hastned to

render Sethos more worthy of her jealousy. He thought he might now rely

securely enough upon his pupil’s prudence and courage, to execute the

scheme he had form’d for his advantage: but it would oblige him to be

absent three or four months from court; however, he did not think it

would be difficult to obtain leave. The queen seldom allow’d Sethos to

see the king, who, conformable to his character, as seldom ask’d after

him; and the vanity and corruption of the court made the courtiers have

no great regard for the young prince.

In eight years which had now pass’d since the death of Nephté, Daluca

had been deliver’d of two sons, who, with their elder brother are

confounded in the common annals, by the name of the three Anonymous

of the issue of Osoroth; but the private memoirs I have before me,

call the first Beon, and the second Pemphos. As soon as they were of

an age fitting to appear before a father, who thought of nothing but

his diversion, the mother brought them continually into his presence,

to accustom him, if possible, to own them, and them only, for his

sons: She even affected to give to the first all the prerogative of

primogeniture, tho’ neither one nor the other had any right on that

account. Sethos residing in the palace, began now to be an eye-sore

to her: Till then she had born it patiently, that it might not be

said the king had no issue; but purposing for the future to heap all

favours upon her own, she sought to supplant an elder brother, whose

birth-right, and what could already be call’d merit, excited in her so

tormenting a jealousy. Amedes, for the sake of Sethos, taking advantage

of this disposition, which he plainly saw in the queen, address’d

himself to her, to obtain the king’s consent to let him visit some of

the chief temples of Egypt. He added at the same time, to remove all

suspicion from her mind, that in the course of this journey, which

would be for three or four months, the prince should lodge with none

but the priests. Daluca, tho’ she thought very meanly of the design,

gave her full consent to it, and engaged to procure that of the king

immediately. She left Amedes with a great deal of satisfaction,

believing he had inspired the prince with a fit of devotion, which

would take him off from all views of ambition and policy: and in a

few moments she sent him the king’s sign manual; letting him know

by the bearer, she did not think it necessary, that for so short an

absence the prince should take leave of the king, or any one else.

This was just what Amedes wanted; who speaking to Sethos of the inside

of the pyramid, which he had been desirous of visiting, and of the

disposition he was now in to accompany him thither, did not, however,

yet discover his whole design to him: but he had taken care to make the

high priest of Memphis (the same who had conducted the late queen to

the labyrinth) acquainted with it.

Sethos and Amedes left the palace on foot, telling the chief officer

of the prince’s apartment, that they might perhaps not return in some

time, and that the queen was inform’d of their journey. Being provided

with a lamp, and whatever was necessary to light it when it went out,

they arriv’d by that time it was night at the pyramid: Amedes order’d

it so, that he might go alone with Sethos into that dark building. They

ascended together to the sixteenth step on the north-side, where there

is a square window always open: But this entrance, which was but three

feet every way, led to a passage of the same dimensions, where they

were oblig’d to crawl upon their bellies. Sethos went foremost, which

was an honour that Amedes did not envy him, nor the trouble of carrying

the lamp: and besides, he never gave him any previous knowledge of the

length of each passage, nor of what he was to meet at the end of it;

tho’ every one had its peculiar difficulties: But not to detain my

readers with all the particulars, I shall at once bring Sethos to the

place, where, guided by Amedes, he perceiv’d a large well, crusted on

every side with a black pitchy scum as smooth as glass. The bare mouth

of this well by lamp-light was a frightful object: The depth of it

seem’d to have no bounds; and there was no sign either of wheel, pully

or rope to descend it, or to sound the bottom. Here it was likewise,

that all those who were not acquainted with the secret; or who if they

were, had not the courage to pursue it, put a stop to their enquiries.

Amedes leaning with his elbows on the brink of the well, and holding

the lamp, waited in silence the effect of Sethos’s curiosity; till

being satisfy’d of his resolution by his impatience, he arose, and

placing the lamp, the bottom of which was made hollow for the purpose,

in the form of a helmet, upon his head, he set himself astride upon the

brink of the well, on the same side where he had been the whole time.

He immediately put his foot upon a step of iron of about six inches

long, which the shadow had conceal’d from the sight of Sethos, and the

more because it was very narrow. Amedes then getting entirely on the

inside of the well, put his other foot on another such step about a

foot lower; and so, without saying any thing, continued to descend, and

Sethos soon follow’d him: Being gone down sixty steps, they met with a

stop, tho’ they were not near the bottom of the well; on the side they

perceiv’d a window, which was the entrance into a pretty easy passage,

hollow’d out of the natural rock, by which there is a gradual winding

descent for 124 feet.

Hitherto the inside of the pyramid is such as I have just given a small

description of; excepting that the bottom of the well is fill’d with

rubbish for a considerable height: But this winding passage led to a

grate with two folding doors of brass, which open’d with the least

push, and without any noise; but with the fall in shutting again, by a

contrivance in the hinges, made a very great sound, which echo’d till

it lost itself a good way off in a vast edifice. They were then at the

bottom of the well, which is in all 150 feet deep. Opposite to this

gate, which was on the north-side, there was another on the south-side,

shut with iron grates, each bar of which was as thick as a man’s arm.

Thro’ these grates Sethos saw a long walk, to which he could perceive

no end: On the east-side of it was a long row of arches or vaults, from

which proceeded a great light of lamps and torches; and from the bottom

of these vaults he heard the voices of men and women, which made very

harmonious musick. Amedes inform’d Sethos, That the walk he saw thro’

the grates was a series of the bottom of the other pyramids, which were

real tombs; and that the arches led to a subterranean temple, where

the priest and priestesses, whose voices he had heard, perform’d every

night different sorts of sacrifices and ceremonies; which he could

not yet reveal to him, because he was not initiated. It is easy to

imagine, that a young man of a warm disposition, whose curiosity also

was excited by so many circumstances, long’d to be initiated; and he

instantly desir’d Amedes to procure it for him. My son, said Amedes,

that courage which has led you hither, and which if you pursue, will

conduct you farther, is a preparatory step to this prerogative. From

this moment I suppose your youth at an end, and that from the desire

you have just testify’d for the initiation, you this day begin to be

a perfect man. The initiation, to which we are not allowed to invite

any one whomsoever in direct terms, is the enterprize of which I

spoke ambiguously to you, and for which I requir’d particular proofs

of your prudence and valour. Father, said Sethos, I then conceiv’d a

faint idea of it, but I never would presume to mention it, fearing you

would reject with anger a proposal which seem’d to me to be too rash

at my age, and which even now I should not have presum’d to make you,

were it not in this place. It is with reason, son, reply’d Amedes,

that you now look upon this demand as very bold. The preparations

which will be requir’d of you, with regard to the body, are painful

and perilous, but they are very trivial in regard to those of the

mind. The priests, who are accountable to nobody, either as for their

choice or refusal, are extremely rigorous, especially with regard to

those who are destin’d to the throne, and desire to partake of the

mysteries of the priesthood. They will examine you on topicks of the

most sublime moral, by questions which you can’t foresee, and to which

you can’t answer but by filling your mind with copious and enlightned

principles, from whence all your replies must naturally flow. Oh! my

father, reply’d Sethos, how much time I have hitherto lost, and what

treasures I have squander’d in the lessons you have already given me!

I consider my attention to your precepts till now only as my duty;

whereas I ought to have look’d on them as the only way by which I

could attain to real riches. Son, answer’d Amedes, as yet, nothing is

lost: Your youth has been duly employ’d in making you acquainted with

the condition of mankind; and you must not expect the gifts of heaven

before their time. You will, on proper occasions, recal to your mind a

great number of those principles you now think forgotten: And besides,

the priests themselves will instruct you for three months previous to

your examination. But it is time for us to repose ourselves, whatever

resolution we take, whether it be to return by the way we came, or to

go on. They therefore sate down upon a stone bench, which went all

round the bottom of the well.

Then it was that Sethos, struck with the grandeur of those

subterraneous works, unknown to the greater part of the Egyptians

themselves, indulg’d his astonishment, and extoll’d the magnificency

of the kings his forefathers, who had brought such vast undertakings

to perfection. Amedes told him, that these works, consider’d in

themselves, were truly worthy of his highest admiration; but, added he,

do you make no reflection on the hardship those have undergone, who

have executed them with their own hands? I perceive, said Sethos, I

have been guilty of a fault in judgment, by praising these enterprizes,

and have begun the new way of thinking I propos’d to myself by an

error. You need not doubt of it, son, said Amedes, you here see the

blood and substance of an infinite number of wretches, whose estates

and persons have been employ’d in these immense labours: Millions

of men have even perish’d by the sudden falling in of the earth.

Sesostris, that hero, to whom Egypt is oblig’d, on other accounts,

for great part of its glory, has, in vain, caus’d to be engraven on

the stately monuments erected by his command at Thebes, that he had

employ’d none but foreign slaves in the building of them; that alone

would be no justification: For tho’ it be the fate of slaves to serve,

we ought always to remember they are men, and never to expose them to

unreasonable labours, or evident dangers, except upon extraordinary

and pressing occasions. And as to captives taken in war, it is yet a

barbarous custom, in all nations, to reduce persons free-born, and

often of the highest birth, taken in battle, or at a siege, to the

state of slavery: So that neither I nor you are secure, in the first

battle we may be engaged in against a foreign enemy, from being liable

to the meanest of servitude, and the most unworthy treatment. Let me

insist upon your giving the world a contrary example in the first

victory you may obtain over any nation, capable of society, and worthy

of your alliance: We shall find in the sequel that this advice was

not unprofitable. But, continu’d Amedes, with regard to the enormous

works you now see, I must inform you, that Cheobus, the eighth king

of Memphis, and founder of the great pyramid, on which they are all

dependant, was, on his own judgment, depriv’d of sepulture in the tomb

he had built for himself; and punish’d for the vanity of his tyrannical

undertaking, by the shame of having his design frustrated. The other

pyramids are neither so large, nor have they such works on the inside

as this of Cheobus; and even their subterraneous passages, which

you saw through the grates, are the work of Cheobus. His successor,

whose conduct was not so much dislik’d as his was, took advantage

of his folly to order their tombs in a place already destin’d for

that use. For, in short, tho’ we ought most certainly to condemn all

those undertakings of princes which are a burden to their subjects,

their superfluous wealth may be employ’d in giving evidences of their

magnificency. It is actually very praise-worthy in them to incourage

the industrious, and to cut out work for those who want it. So tho’ the

vain extravagance of a king brings his subjects to beggary, expences

prudently laid out are preservatives against it. Among the latter, the

wisest beyond comparison are those which have a view to the general

advantage of the state. The kings of Egypt have render’d their names

immortal by their works on account of the Nile; and one might say, they

look’d upon all Egypt as a mansion of pleasure, which it was their duty

to improve, adorn and maintain. However, to put an end to this subject,

the use you perceiv’d to be made of one part of these subterraneous

edifices for the service of the gods, obliges me to ask you, Whether

you don’t approve of such undertakings, however expensive and perillous

they may be, when they have an object so noble and so sacred? But

before you answer me; suppose the priests themselves are putting you to

a trial by this question. Sethos having reflected upon it with greater

attention than he otherwise would have done, answer’d thus; I can’t

think it allowable to be cruel to men, under pretence of serving the

gods; and am persuaded, ’tis the forming a wrong idea of the authors

and benefactors of mankind to offer them such victims. Human sacrifices

have been abolish’d by a more enlighten’d religion; and I think our

late kings seem’d to have abandon’d these dangerous, and at the same

time, too laborious undertakings of subterraneous edifices, which are

all very antient: But I think, at the same time, we can’t better repair

the errors of our fore-fathers, than by employing the monuments of

their tyranny in the worship of the gods, as I see it is a practice in

these times. Son, answer’d Amedes, such answers as this will extremely

facilitate your initiation.

This their discourse was overheard, tho’ Sethos knew nothing of it; for

the priests having notice given them by the noise of the folding doors,

immediately repair’d thither, to spy thro’ private openings in the

wall who were come to the bottom of the well, that they might prepare

every thing for their reception, if they ventur’d farther. Sethos and

Amedes having rested, and discours’d thus for the space of an hour;

Amedes first arose, and said to Sethos; Son, you see on the north-side

the gate by which we enter’d, and thro’ which we may return; or here,

on the east-side, you see another gate, which will lead you to a way

parallel to the extremities of the arches, from which you are as yet

excluded. This passage was six feet broad, very even, running in a

strait line, and vaulted in an arch of a semi-circle upon a moulding

which run on both sides at six feet from the earth. Sethos being about

to enter, could not avoid turning his eye to an inscription engraven

in black letters upon a very white marble, which was plac’d in the

nature of a pediment upon the mouldings of the arch thro’ which was

the entrance into this passage: He there read these words; _Whoever

goes thro this passage alone, and without looking behind him, shall

be purify’d by fire, by water, and by air; and if he can vanquish the

fears of death, he shall return from the bowels of the earth, he shall

see light again, and he shall be intitled to the privilege of preparing

his mind for the revelation of the mysteries of the great goddess_ Isis.

The bare reading of this inscription frighted away almost all who had

the courage to descend to the bottom of the well. Some, tho’ but few,

went thither of themselves, on no other motive but a most hazardous

curiosity. But when any one went to demand the initiation, the priests,

who seem’d to grant it without any difficulty, only requir’d him to

write down his name and petition, and then immediately appointed him

an initiate to inform him of the trials he was to pass thro’. This

guide attended him into the pyramid, and led him to the mouth of the

well, shew’d him the steps, and went down first himself, as Amedes had

done with Sethos. But the priests were pretty sure, that the conditions

enjoin’d by the inscription would be accepted by none but men of a more

than common intrepidity. And as courage alone was not all the merit

they requir’d in their initiates, these terrible trials serv’d only to

admit those who aspir’d to it to a very severe examination upon all

the other virtues. Some were of opinion, they were to descend alive

into hell, and not to return without the most frightful labours; Others

imagin’d, that all the initiates submitted to a real death; and tho’

they saw them afterwards rise again, they fear’d the agonies: They

also knew, that some who were esteem’d men of singular valour, never

return’d at all. The initiates, who were tied down to an inviolable

secrecy, allow’d the liberty of these different interpretations to

those who had either heard of this inscription, or who had been

satisfy’d with the reading of it. However, as the initiates were in

extraordinary repute among the people, for the great virtues they

had given proofs of, and especially for the incorruptible justice,

which was their characteristick; as they were respected by the kings

themselves, who look’d upon them not only as men intrepid in battle,

but as the most experienc’d ministers they could be serv’d with, and

often as their mediators between them and the priests, whose influence

they were sometimes afraid of: To conclude, as nothing could be more

agreeable to a private person, than to enjoy almost all the privileges

of the priesthood, without being tied down to their subjections and

disciplines; there were always some who had resolution enough to expose

themselves to any dangers for the sake of the initiation.

Sethos was too young to be led by any remote views; his high birth had

left little room in his mind for that ambition to rise, so common in

other men. Amedes reflected more than he upon the inestimable advantage

it would be for a king of Egypt to be initiated. This young prince

therefore being in reality push’d on by no other motive than a violent

curiosity, and arguing, that he might as well come out again in safety

as others had done, snatch’d the lamp out of the hands of Amedes,

who yielded it to him with a caution once for all, to add prudence

to his courage. However he follow’d him at a distance without his

knowledge. This was an establish’d custom; because, if the courage of

the candidate should happen to fail him before he had gone thro’ the

first trial, his guide, who was always near him, brought him back out

of the well, by the way he came, to the window of the pyramid thro’

which he enter’d: There he advis’d him, for his own honour, not to

divulge an undertaking in which he had no success, and warn’d him never

to attempt obtaining the initiation, either at Memphis, or at any other

of the twelve temples of Egypt where it was conferr’d. But the first

matter of astonishment to those who persisted in their design, was the

length of the way, for they were oblig’d to walk more than a league

in this subterraneous passage, without seeing any thing new. At last

they observ’d in the wall on the right hand, or on the south-side, a

small iron-door shut, and two paces beyond it three men having helmets

on, upon which was the head of Anubis. This gave occasion to Orpheus

to make of these three men the three heads of the dog Cerberus, which

admitted persons into hell, but suffer’d none to come out again. One of

these three men said to the candidate; We are not posted here to

stop your passage: Go on, if the gods have given you the courage: but

if you be so unfortunate as to return, we shall then stop your passage:

As yet you may go back, but from this moment you’ll never get out of

this place, unless you go on, without turning or looking back. If the

candidate was not shock’d at these words, he was suffer’d to pass, and

the three men follow’d him at a distance; but his first guide abandon’d

him, and enter’d the little door: A moment afterwards, the candidate

perceiv’d at the end of this passage the light of a very white but

lively flame, just kindled: Sethos mended his pace to come at it. At

the end of this passage was a vaulted room of above 100 feet square.

At the entrance into it were, on the right, and on the left, two piles

of wood, or rather pales of wood planted in the ground upright, and

very near to one another, twin’d about in the nature of vines, with

branches of Arabian palm, Egyptian thorn and tamarind, three sorts of

wood very pliant, fragrant and cumbustible; the smoke went out thro’

long pipes made for that purpose: But this flame, which easily reach’d

to the top of the vault, and bore down again in waves, gave the space

it possess’d all the resemblance of a burning furnace: But what was

yet more terrible, Sethos observ’d upon the ground, between the two

piles, a grate of red-hot iron, eight feet broad and thirty feet long.

This grate was form’d of bars, which were so close to one another,

that there was only room for a man to set one foot between them. He

perceiv’d there was no other passage but this, and he went thro’ it

with as much agility as circumspection. Most fiery trials, of which

history makes mention, were no other than these: But historians, who

don’t know the truth of the matter, and who love to exaggerate their

miracles, say, that such a one pass’d thro’ flames of fire, instead

of saying he pass’d thro’ two lines of flames, and that he walk’d over

red-hot bars, instead of saying that he walk’d between them.

Sethos having with joy pass’d this trial, saw at some paces distance

a canal of more than fifty feet broad, which came in on one side of

this subterraneous room thro’ grates of iron, and went out again in

the same manner on the other side. This canal, which came out of the

Nile, before it enter’d thro’ the grates, made a great noise, as of a

water-fall, which Sethos mistook for the noise of the flames he had

just escap’d: By the light of these flames, tho’ they were considerably

lower’d, he perceiv’d on the other side of the canal an arch, in the

inside of which were steps; the highest whereof were involv’d in

darkness. Sethos imagin’d there was the gate thro’ which he was to

pass into the open air, and the rather, because the passage was mark’d

out in the canal by two balustrades of iron, which arose from the

bottom of the water on the right and on the left. Being apprehensive

that the light of the flames might fail him before he reach’d the

other side, he made use of one of the firebrands to light up his lamp,

which the rarefaction of the air had extinguish’d amidst the flames.

He undress’d himself, put his cloaths upon his head, and ty’d them

with a girdle, which pass’d under his arms, across his breast: In

this manner he swam cross the canal, holding his lamp burning in one

hand. He quickly got his cloaths on again; and ascending the steps of

the arch which was before him, he came to a landing-place of six feet

long and three broad. The bottom was a draw-bridge, which hung by very

strong irons to rings fastned in the uppermost step of the arch; so

that this draw-bridge seem’d to be let down to receive him. The walls

on each side of him were of brass, and serv’d as supporters for the

naves of two great wheels of the same metal, one on the right, and

the other on the left: The lower half of them went down behind the

walls; and on the upper parts, which were in sight, lay a great iron

chain: The top or roof of the landing-place discover’d, at the height

of fifteen feet, three dark concavities, which resembled the inside

of three large hollow statues, look’d into from below: Before him was

a door cover’d all over with the whitest ivory, adorn’d in the middle

with two mouldings of gold; which shew’d that this door, that had no

scutcheons on the outside, open’d inwards with two leaves. Sethos

having set his lamp on the floor, try’d twice or thrice in vain to

push open this door, which had resisted the force of much stronger men

than he: But to the lintel of the door, which was rais’d about seven

feet above the threshold, and to which the ends of the draw-bridge

seem’d to be suspended by two strong chains, were fasten’d two great

rings of polish’d steel, which by the light of the lamp shone like

the finest diamond. The candidate could not avoid laying hold of them

to try if by this means he might open the door: and here he began his

last trial, the most difficult for an astonish’d imagination; for the

very first motion which he gave to these rings, rais’d the triggers of

the two wheels, which being turn’d by a prodigious weight hanging to

their chains, produc’d several very frightful effects. The draw-bridge

began to raise itself at that end which was nearest the door; so that

the candidate was oblig’d either to recover the steps, and so turn

back again, contrary to the law prescrib’d him, or to hold fast by the

rings: but the very lintel of the door was likewise rais’d up with

the candidate hanging at it. The lamp which slid upon the draw-bridge

was soon overset, and left him in the dark, in the midst of a horrid

noise made by the two wheels, such, that the most couragious would

hardly forbear thinking that a hundred machines of iron and brass were

breaking in pieces about his ears. This motion, which lasted almost a

minute, rais’d the candidate to the height of a quarter of a circle:

but left the lintel, which was then loosen’d from the great wheels,

might fall again with too great violence, being born downwards by its

own weight, and that of the candidate, it was fastned with ropes,

which went thro’ several pullies, to another wheel made up of flies

or fanes of iron plates, which broke the fall, and prevented the

candidate from being hurt. But at the same time this wheel, which was

plac’d opposite to him in a large open place above the ivory doors, by

its motion made him feel a violent agitation of the air. The candidate

being in this manner let down again to the place from whence the

machine had lifted him up, the two leaves of the ivory door open’d by

the motion of the lowermost trigger, and presented to his view a place

where it was broad day, or if in the night-time, was illuminated with

lamps, which caus’d a light equal to it.

Sethos, who came thither about sun-rising, perceiving the Ox Apis thro’

the bars of his stable, which was opposite to the sanctuary of the

temple of the three deities at Memphis, found, to his great surprize,

that he was come out from under the great hollow pedestal of the triple

statue of Osiris, Isis and Horus, before which so many supplications

had been offer’d for the late queen’s recovery. He was receiv’d by the

priests, who made a lane for him behind the sanctuary. The high-priest

embracing him immediately, extoll’d his valour, and congratulated him

upon the happy success of his trials. He then presented him a cup

fill’d with the water of the canal he had just pass’d. Whilst he was

drinking, the high-priest said, Let this water be a draught of lethe or

forgetfulness with regard to all the false maxims which you have heard

from the mouths of prophane men[54]. After this, making him turn toward

the triple statue, he order’d him to prostrate himself before it, and

then said these words over him: Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians,

pour down thy spirit upon thy new votary, who has gone thro’ so many

perils and laborious trials to come before thee: Make him victorious

also over his passions, by rendring him tractable to thy laws, that he

may be worthy to be admitted to thy mysteries. All the priests having

repeated the first words of this Invocation: Isis, _great goddess of

the_ Egyptians; they rais’d Sethos up, and the high-priest presented

him a compound liquor, by the Greeks call’d Cyceon; saying, May this be

a draught of Mnemosyne or memory for the lessons,[55] which will now be

given you by wisdom. These were all the ceremonies of the first day.

The high-priest restor’d Sethos to Amedes, who standing behind him, led

him to the apartment prepar’d for him in the college of the priests,

which was provided with all necessaries, he being not to stir from

those holy places till the ceremonies of his initiation were perform’d.

[54] See the manners of the savages; by father Lassiteau, t. 1. p. 313,

314. where he mentions these customs of the antients.

[55] Arnob. l. 5.

As much as Sethos was overjoy’d for having form’d a right judgment of

what he had to do in trials which required as much presence of mind as

resolution; yet greater was the joy of Amedes, who having so precious

a trust committed to his care, had prevail’d upon himself to hazard

the life of this young prince to obtain the initiation for him. As he

was apprehensive that Sethos would soon be oblig’d to quit Memphis

on account of the queen’s jealousy, and that consequently he should

never have the like time or opportunity to procure him this advantage

for the future; he put him to these trials as soon as he thought his

tender age capable of going thro’ them. Had it not been for these

pressing reasons, Amedes would never have expos’d a youth at sixteen

years to such dangers and uncertainties as had perplex’d men of the

greatest valour and prudence, not to mention those rash persons whose

hearts or heads had fail’d them in the enterprize. For as soon as any

candidate had pass’d the little door that was shut, and got a sight of

the flames, if he offer’d to return, the three men, who were officers

of the second rank, seiz’d him, and made him enter thro’ this door into

the subterraneous temples, where he was for ever confin’d, that he

might not divulge the nature of the trials. Just so it was with respect

to the canal; if any came thither after passing thro’ the flames, and

was deterr’d from crossing the water, either by swimming or holding

by one of the two ballustrades, which appear’d above the surface: for

these officers were ready to help all that ran the risque of burning or

drowning; but it was in order to confine them. Their imprisonment was

however not very rigid. They were made, if they desir’d it, officers

of the second order in these subterraneous temples, and were allow’d

to marry the daughters of such officers: But they were oblig’d, in the

first place, to give an account of their condition to their families by

a note written and sign’d with their own hands, in the following terms:

“For attempting a rash undertaking, the just and merciful gods confine

me to a perpetual but favourable prison; fear the gods, and love them.”

This form made them look’d upon as dead, and discharg’d their families

from all ties with regard to them. They were in reality secur’d from

ever speaking to any of those they call’d prophane. The other officers

of the second order, who were the children of these, had the freedom,

not of changing their condition, which otherwise was not allow’d to

any Egyptian, but to officiate in their turns in the superior temples,

and even, like the priests themselves, to converse with every body,

because they were bound to keep the secret by an oath; which they did

not vouchsafe to those who had fail’d in the trials, and had therefore,

said they, forfeited their engagements to themselves.

As for the latter of these trials, the noise of the wheels, and

darkness of the place, made it really look like the chambers of death:

But this noise serv’d likewise to give warning to the priests, who

waited the candidate’s arrival in the sanctuary, to let down curtains

immediately before all the crannies thro’ which the people might look

in: So that the populace, if there were any in the temple, knowing

nothing of the secret, imagin’d it to be thunder, which warn’d the

priests of the approaching presence of a deity, who came to unfold some

mystery to them. It was at this trial that Orpheus, who was then in

Egypt, had fail’d: however, the priests had granted him the initiation

some months before, as a peculiar favour they thought due to his merit,

on another account.

This famous Greek, who had obtain’d of the gods the gift of poetry,

and playing on the harp, in so eminent a degree, that in those

fabulous days he pass’d for the son of Apollo and Calliope, was born

in Thrace. But that being somewhat a savage country, and its fierce

inhabitants more addicted to war than the sciences, he came to settle

in Thessalia, among a more civiliz’d people, and in a country render’d

delightful by the course of the river Peneus, and the delicious vale of

Tempe. There it was he espous’d the fair Eurydice; yet more famous for

the love she bore to her husband, than for her beauty. The concourse

of people from all parts of Greece, which the charms of the place, and

the curiosity of hearing Orpheus, had drawn into Thessalia, soon made

him acquainted with the fame of the Egyptians. As superior talents

generally suppose a loftiness of mind and sentiments, Orpheus resolv’d

to go into Egypt to obtain the initiation, persuaded that his poetry

would become more sublime, when he had gain’d a thorow knowledge of

theology, morality, and nature, of which he had been inform’d the

Egyptians were the true and only masters. He began from that time to

learn the Egyptian tongue: but there was one great obstacle to his

design, which was the absenting himself for a time from Eurydice. All

he could say to her of the charms of her country in which he left her,

and of the esteem she was in at the Thessalian court, could not ease

that grief she entertain’d upon his first mention of it; it had a quite

contrary effect upon her. It was some time before that Aristeus came

to reside at this court. He pretended to be the son of Apollo, and the

nymph Cyrene, the daughter of king Peneus, grandfather to the king

then upon the throne. It is said, that Apollo, falling in love with

this princess, carry’d her into Africa, where she gave name to the

province of Cyrenia; so that Aristeus esteem’d Thessalia as the country

of his ancestors. He no sooner came to this court, than he fix’d his

eyes upon Eurydice, and made fruitless addresses to her, which she was

so discreet as to conceal from her husband. But now she imagin’d her

residence at this court, which Orpheus had offer’d as an argument of

consolation, might prove most fatal in his absence; and not being able

to dissuade him from his design, she declar’d she would follow him

where-ever he went.

They therefore embark’d together; and, after all the labours and

dangers of a tedious voyage, arriv’d at the port of Canope in the

Delta, and thro’ the Heracleotick canal at one of the harbours of

Memphis. As it was late, they resolv’d to lie the first night without

the city. In the short way from the shore to the inn they were directed

to, Eurydice felt a little smart in her heel, which she did not think

of consequence enough to mention to her husband; but she was no sooner

enter’d into her chamber, than she was seiz’d with a great heaviness

to sleep, which made her refuse all refreshment: However, as she

had eaten more than once with the company on board, her husband did

not apprehend any thing from a drowsiness which seem’d to him to

proceed from a cause very common and natural. She even remov’d all his

uneasinesses, by telling him, she wanted nothing but rest. About half

an hour afterwards, hearing her fetch her breath with great difficulty

and irregularity, he ran to her; and being surpriz’d to find her face

swell’d, and livid, and above all, that he could not awake her, he

call’d out to his host; who no sooner saw her, but he told him, it was

caus’d by the sting of some venomous insect that lay in her way, and

that he would certainly find the mark of it in her foot: Having soon

discover’d it to be as he said; Stranger, continu’d the host, if you

desire it, I will fetch a physician, but he will find your wife dead.

It is a great misfortune that you have never heard, or, if you have

heard it, have never given attention to it, that there is no such thing

as walking in Egypt, without having a preservative balsam about one, to

apply immediately to the place stung: ’tis an infallible remedy; but a

few moments delay render the evil incurable. Oh! cry’d Orpheus, I have

the remedy, but my wife, my cruel wife, conceal’d this accident from

me. Alas! my lord, answer’d the host, as he was retreating, I find, to

her misfortune, the sting was hardly perceivable, as it often happens

to the Egyptians themselves, if they are not very careful.

Thus Orpheus, after having in vain implor’d all the deities of Greece

and Egypt, lost the most tender and the most faithful of wives. She was

interr’d in the sepulchre of foreigners, without any ceremony, because

Orpheus was so overwhelm’d with grief that he had not discover’d

himself to any one. This burial-place was without the walls of Memphis,

on the same side as the pyramids, and the same place where the tombs of

the natives were. They were the catacombs of the mummies, which subsist

to this day; but strangers were let down by a separate opening. At the

entrance into these catacombs was the lake Acherusia; on the brink of

which the Egyptians, when dead, were brought before their judges, as

the kings were to the labyrinth: But to strangers this ceremony was

not observ’d, and they were interr’d without embalming. Orpheus, in

the mean time, as yet unknown, walking every day in the neighbourhood

of the catacombs, where Eurydice was interr’d, met one evening with

some Egyptians, who were discoursing among themselves, that there was a

subterraneous communication between the catacombs and the pyramids, and

that the souls of the dead had all that space to walk in. They added,

that some who had had the resolution to enter into these pyramids by

the opening which was visible on one side of the greatest, had there

heard the voices and songs of the blessed spirits. Orpheus remembered

these words; and as true lovers, especially those who never were in

love before, look upon their passion as eternal, and carry their ideas

of constancy even beyond the grave: so Orpheus giving himself up to

this illusion, and depending upon the same sentiment in the ghost of

his Eurydice, hop’d to meet her in these tombs, or to intice her to

him by the sound of his voice and harp. Being return’d to Memphis,

and having attentively consider’d the answers of all those whom he

interrogated concerning what he had heard, he was confirm’d in his

design; and taking a lamp fit for his purpose, and his lyre, which had

lain unstrung for a long time, he went the next day in the evening to

the first pyramid. As soon as it was night, he enter’d alone, and made

its long echoing vaults ring with the name of his Eurydice. Having

pass’d frightful windings and turnings, he came to the mouth of the

well; and the fervent desire he had to meet either with Eurydice, or

his death, made him resolved to descend. It was some consolation to

him to hear thro’ the grates of the iron gate a compleat musick, in

which he distinguish’d the voices of women, and even fancy’d he heard

that of his Eurydice: But his satisfaction was yet greater, at reading

the inscription. He saw he was at the very gate of the initiation,

which had been the occasion of his voyage, though the loss of his

wife had made him forget it: But then joining both ideas, and giving

up his imagination to his desires, he believ’d that the initiation

itself would lead him to the mansion of the souls of the blessed, and

that, perhaps, he might bring back Eurydice from thence. He enter’d

the narrow way, and with great resolution went thro’ the trials of

fire and water. But at the noise of the wheels, and the motion of the

landing-place or draw-bridge, he had not the presence of mind to hold

fast by the rings; so was forc’d to retreat, and was thrown against

his will upon the steps of the arch. He perceiv’d his mistake even

before the noise ceas’d; and as soon as he saw from the top of the

steps, where he had kept his ground, that the door of the pedestal

was open’d, he took his lyre, and, being resolv’d to die, comforted

himself with the hopes of meeting his Eurydice. In the mean time he

advanc’d slowly towards the sanctuary, singing verses fill’d with the

names of the gods, and of Eurydice, and sung, in concert with his

lyre, such just, such melodious, and such tender strains, that all the

priests who surrounded him, were charm’d with it. After a short space

he gave over singing, and fell on his knees, as if in expectation of

his sentence. The high-priest, after having conferr’d a few moments

with his companions, made him rise, and thus accosted him; Virtuous

stranger, who can be no other than the renown’d Orpheus, we know by

the piety of your verses, and the excellency of your talents, that you

reverence the gods, and are dear to them. Our goddess is equitable;

she considers what is due to your resolution in entring this abyss,

and to the progress you have made in it without advice and without

assistance: your judgment, indeed, fail’d you in the last of your

trials; but she pardons this mistake, in consideration of the grief

you labour under for your late loss. Your only consolation will be in

that virtue, of which our goddess, by our means, will explain to you

the true principles. But as an atonement for your fault, she expects,

that after your initiation, you introduce her worship into Greece, your

country, the fame of which has been long since known to us. Orpheus

made no other answer to this discourse but by tears of gratitude and

joy; the high-priest went through the ceremonies of that day with him,

and admitted him to the exercises of those that follow’d.

It is not difficult to trace all the customs of the Egyptians in the

Greek mythology, of which Orpheus was the principal author. We have

elsewhere shewn what the obsequies for the dead had furnish’d him with.

What he has taken from the initiation is something more disguis’d; but

in the three trials of fire, water, and air, are plainly discover’d

the three purifications the souls of men were to go thro’ before they

return’d to life; which the greatest of the latin poets borrow’d from

him, in the sixth book of his Æneid; _Infectum eluitur scelus, aut

exuritur igni_: not to omit the circumstance of suspension in the

agitated air, or in the winds: _Suspensæ ad ventos_. The waters of

forgetfulness, and the gate of ivory have their places there. Hercules

returning with Alceste out of hell, and Theseus condemn’d to sit

there for ever, are the two different symbols of those, who either

pass’d thro’, or fail’d in their trials. But farther, Orpheus gave a

symbolical or disguis’d history of his initiation: when connecting what

had pass’d in his mind, with what actually happen’d to him at his last

trial, he suppos’d, that he had infallibly brought Eurydice back again

from hell, if he had not, contrary to the law prescrib’d him, look’d

back before he recover’d the light of the day.

Even these allegories are nothing in comparison with the mysteries

of Ceres, which he actually instituted at Eleusina, after the model

of those of Isis; and which he divided into greater and lesser

mysteries, in the same view as the greater and lesser initiations

were distinguish’d in Egypt. The first was only bestow’d upon natives

of the country; and the second only to foreigners. Both one and the

other, as well at Eleusina as at Egypt, were oblig’d to a secrecy

which had never been violated but at the expence of the life of him

who reveal’d any of these mysteries, either by a formal sentence, or

by other means, in whatever part of the world he might happen to be;

and then they never fail’d of altering, at least in part, such of their

practice as had been reveal’d. This is the reason why we know so little

of the antient ceremonies. What I am acquainted with myself came to my

knowledge only by means of some uncommon documents very difficult to

be decypher’d; which, in the confusion of the wars, had been taken out

of the archives where they were treasur’d up, and which the possessors

of them very carefully conceal’d. And tho’ to this day initiations are

in practice, both in Egypt and in Greece, they are not so rigid, nor

are the mysteries to which they are introductory so secret. Persons

of distinction are admitted without any probation. Even children are

frequently consecrated to Isis, or to Ceres, which in the main are but

one and the same goddess, without any condition, and merely by the

devotion of their parents.

But to return to Sethos; the whole first day and night following were,

as customary, allow’d him for rest. His table was serv’d in the same

manner as at the palace; and instead of his ordinary domesticks, he

was attended by a good number of officers of the second order; but he

was not allow’d to stir out of his apartment all that day; and his

confinement there would have been longer, if there had been any other

candidate in the priests house before him; for then he must have waited

till they had gone thro’ their exercises.

The next morning, some hours after sun-rise, the priests came to

inform Sethos, that he must begin a fast of fourscore and one days in

different degrees of austerity: During the whole time he was to drink

nothing but water: In the first two months he was to eat as much bread

as he pleas’d; and for his meals fruits, either raw or only dry’d in

the sun. But this course of diet was more tolerable in Egypt than in

any other country. The following twenty-one days were divided into two

parts; the first twelve days he was to have as much bread as he wou’d,

but only eight ounces of fruit every day; and the last nine days the

fast was to be very severe, for he was to have only eighteen ounces of

bread with water. During the seventy-two first days, he was to eat his

meals alone, and at such hours as he liked best. He was to lie in a

bed without curtains, on girths of Papyrus stretch’d tight, with only

a bolster, and two sheets of linnen; of which the uppermost might be

doubled into as many folds as he pleas’d. He was allow’d to lie but six

hours, and at noon he might take an hour’s nap sitting. This was all

that related to the purification of the body, or the first of the three

parts of initiation. The two others were the purification of the mind,

and the manifestation.

The purification of the mind consisted of two parts,[56] invocation and

instruction. The invocation was only assisting an hour every morning

and evening at the sacrifices which were offer’d in sight of all the

people, but the candidate was so plac’d that he could neither see

them nor be seen. The instruction consisted of more particulars: The

candidate was first of all acquainted, that it chiefly concern’d the

duties incumbent on him in the condition of life he was in, and that

his examination would be only on that head. Mean time the priests held

every day two conferences on this account, at which he was oblig’d

to be present. In the morning-conference one of them spent an hour

in explaining the general principles of the Egyptian religion. He[57]

inculcated the notion of one only God, who by his knowledge conceiv’d

the world, before he form’d it by his will. But to comply with the

frailty of mankind, they were allow’d to adore the different attributes

of his essence, and the different effects of his goodness, under

the symbols of the stars, as the sun and the planets; of renown’d

personages, as Osiris, Jupiter, Mercury; and even of terrestrial

bodies, as animals and plants[58]. He added, that the subaltern

deities were likewise spirits, whose ministry the supreme God thought

expedient to employ in the government of the universe. He did not

forget that spirit, who was the tempter of men, and the disturber of

nature, represented by Typhon, by the evil genius’s, and by pernicious

animals and poisonous plants. From thence he proceeded to explain the

ceremonies they put in practice to win the favour of the beneficent

deities, or to avert the anger of the mischievous. The Egyptians by

this confus’d idea of unity in the divine being, and of multiplicity in

his symbols, are the first authors of what has been the most sublime

in philosophical opinions, and the most gross in popular superstitions.

Besides this, the physical and historical origins of the denominations

of these secondary deities, and of the varieties of the worship paid to

them, were expounded in a manner so learned and so curious, that Sethos

sometimes envy’d these men, who being freed from all the incumbrances

of life, could devote themselves wholly to such satisfactory enquiries.

[56] Besides the treatise of Meursius, call’d Eleusina, the reader may

consult what father Lassiteau, in his customs of the savages, t. 1. p.

221. and fol. says of the initiations of the antients. He begins by

these words: The initiations to the mysteries were a practical school

of religion and virtue, instituted by the antients to instruct men how

to live up to the principles of reason and prudence. And this is in

effect the idea Cicero gives us of them: De leg. 2. &c.

[57] Lactant. l. 1.

[58] The Ab. Banier observes very justly, that the first fathers of the

church demonstrated to the Pagans, that this interpretation did not

clear them from idolatry. Origin of fables. p. 2. p. 266.

The evening conference lasted an hour and half. The only subject was

morality. One of the priests began, by laying down general maxims of

it, which he afterwards apply’d to such cases or instances as best

suited the circumstances of the candidate. Then other priests made

objections; which were answer’d by the first. In these conferences the

candidate was not allow’d to speak; but in the familiar conversations,

which the priests held twice a day among themselves, he was free

to speak his mind, not on religion but on morals; in which they

endeavour’d to satisfy all his questions or objections. Besides which,

all the priests, whose business it was to teach their divinity, were

oblig’d to receive him into their closets whenever he came during the

intervals of his exercises. This freedom, which he enjoy’d forty-two

days, gave the candidate an opportunity of unfolding the most inward

recesses of his mind, and even of relating such actions of his life,

as he could suppose might tend to his honour: and the priests, on their

parts, gave great attention to him, in order to discover his character

and inclinations. For whereas in other schools, one single master was

the instructor of many disciples, here the whole college of priests was

employ’d to instruct one candidate. Their wives, who in compliment were

stil’d priestesses, tho’ in Egypt they had no sacerdotal functions,

at least in the superior temples, dwelt with them under the same

roof: But the four stories of this house being double, the priest’s

apartments look’d towards the gardens, and those of the priestesses

forwards. Of these two sides, which were separated by a gallery, that

destin’d for the women was call’d, likewise by favour, the sacerdotal

palace; whereas the other side was only stil’d the priest’s house. The

priestesses had the liberty of their husbands apartments, but not of

their closets. They never went into the halls, or common offices of the

house; but they had the freedom of the galleries, and of those passages

alone which led to the galleries of the temple, and into the gardens.

The candidate was forbid to speak to them, or so much as to salute

them, where-ever he met them, though he generally knew them, and had

seen them, perhaps, in the apartments of the king and queen, whither

they went at certain hours, as other ladies did. By this the candidate

was taught, that he must know how to deny himself sometimes those

things which were lawful in themselves, tho’ within his reach. But that

which will appear, without doubt, mortifying to well-bred gentlemen,

these ladies, who were most of them of singular beauty, never pass’d

by him without paying him their respect, and he was not suffer’d to

make the least shew of a return. By this he was put to a trial of that

fortitude with which every virtuous man ought to resist the charms of

the sex when they appear in competition with his duty.

On the evening of the forty-second day, the candidate was inform’d,

that the next day he must commence a silence of eighteen days complete;

during which he must not utter one single word, nor even make any sign

to express his thoughts, on any account whatsoever; only in case of

illness, he might demonstrate it by laying his hand to his heart: but

if he did not give this sign, such of the priests as were physicians,

could easily perceive it; and in this case, all his exercises were

suspended, and he was look’d after with a great deal of care: But after

his recovery, whatever day of the three months the purification of his

mind was interrupted, he was oblig’d to begin again. The candidate was

offer’d at the same time a certain number of proper books, tables

to write on, and a stylus or iron pen to write with, if he had not

thought to ask for them before. But Sethos had this foresight the very

second day of his retirement. He conceiv’d, that the frequent visits

he was allow’d to make to the priests, and the questions he might be

continually asking them, would not conduce so much to his instruction,

as recollection and reading. He had already copy’d all that he was

able to remember of their moral conferences, and had endeavour’d, by

meditation, to go back to the grounds of every particular question. By

this means his mind was stor’d beforehand with all the answers which

he heard given by the priest, who held the conference, to all the

questions and objections started to him by the others: And in, their

private conversations, they all admir’d the accuracy and modesty of his

decisions. But these conversations were now to be suspended: His other

exercises remain’d the same, and the two conferences were continu’d

during the whole eighteen days. However, he was not call’d to these

exercises as before, but was oblig’d to repair punctually thither at

the common signal. In a word, he had no other notice given him, but

by being awak’d mornings and afternoons. He had the liberty of the

gardens, but he was not to take notice of any person, either man or

woman; so that he was all alone as it were, in the midst of a house

full of people. On the other hand, nobody, either man or woman, seem’d

to take any notice of him; nor was any manner of attendance given him,

excepting that his food was brought once a day into his apartments when

he was absent. The priest, who inform’d him of this new regulation,

acquainted him, that he was enjoin’d to the most rigid observance of

it: that they excused some small inadvertencies which he had been

guilty of during the forty-two preceding days; but that the least

violation of the rules now prescrib’d him would forfeit his liberty for

the remainder of his life. Upon this the priest, without staying for

any answer from Sethos, led away Amedes, who not having quitted this

young prince hitherto, left him, as it may be imagin’d, overwhelm’d

with grief. It was not that they ever design’d to put their threats in

execution, but they did it to put the candidates to a trial under this

situation of mind, in order to give them an opportunity of exerting

their courage; for they wink’d at any small failures in those whom they

judg’d worthy of the initiation in other respects.

Nothing could more sensibly affect Sethos than to be separated from

his governour, whom he esteem’d as a father. The solitude he was now

left in, which was but as a trial or exercise, made him reflect upon

the real situation of his fortune, to which he had, properly speaking,

as yet not open’d his eyes. He recall’d to his mind the loss of a

mother, and the succession to the throne, with the loss of which he

was threatned; and nature prevailing, either over the unsettledness of

his youth, which he had hardly quitted, or over the heroick fortitude

which was visibly growing up in him, he shed a torrent of tears. But

considering at last the vanity and weakness of such a consolation, he

arm’d himself with resolution and constancy, and had the courage to

promise within himself, that, what ever state of life he might fall

into, he would never seek comfort in tears, but would look upon virtue

as a man’s only good and support.

The next morning, soon after he rose, he saw three priests with very

austere countenances, enter his chamber. It was very shocking for the

candidate to see these men, who before had shewn him all marks of

friendship and complaisance, approach him with the appearance of severe

judges. They came to reproach him, not for the small faults he might

have been guilty of since the commencement of his preparation, which

were only failings for that time and place, but for the defective or

vicious dispositions they had observ’d, either in his conversation or

manners. But they did not stop there; for, as the resolution which is

necessary in a person to expose himself to the trials of the initiation

is hardly to be met with but in persons of note, the priests knew

pretty well, either from their own intelligence, or publick fame, all

their perfections or defects. Besides, as it was common for people to

come for advice or prediction to the priests, whom they suppos’d to

have a profound knowledge in futurity and hidden causes; they spared

no diligence to get information under hand of all the secrets as well

of princes as of private persons; to which, the industry of their

wives, and the officers of the second order, who went abroad, did not a

little contribute. And after a candidate was shut up amongst them, they

employ’d their utmost care to gather all possible circumstances of his

life. Thus they put him to a strange surprize, by recalling to his mind

such of his past actions as might merit censure, and by reprimanding

him in proportion to the heinousness of the case, without so much

as allowing him to open his mouth: They even forbid him losing any

time to justify himself in writing; but then they took all imaginable

precaution not to lay any thing to his charge but what was strictly

true. This vexatious exercise was shorter or longer every time, and was

continued more or fewer days, according to the nature of the subject;

and they insinuated to many, that they knew more than they would say.

But, with respect to Sethos, whom the priests had nothing to reproach

with, they only reprov’d him for the tears he had shed the foregoing

evening, and which he suppos’d had been seen by none: They repeated to

him the very same reflections he had made himself; after which they

retir’d, and came no more.

Toward the evening of the last day of silence, the three priests came

into the candidate’s apartment with a serene countenance. They told

him, that one of the wholsomest instructions a wife man could receive,

was that which he drew from his own faults. That he must not fail to

correct and amend them; but that he ought not to conceive such a shame

for them as might be discouraging and unprofitable. They added, that

they had admitted guilty persons to the initiation, but that their

history did not furnish a single example of the meanest of the Egyptian

initiates, who after admission had abandon’d the paths of the noblest

virtue. That he was going to be incorporated with a body of men,

which merit alone had form’d, and which, tho’ it had no pre-eminence

of itself, possess’d, however, the first place in the esteem of all

men. They went so far as to tell him, that though initiation was

but a participation of the priesthood, it was their birth made them

priests; whereas initiates were chosen men, who only attain’d to that

dignity by a merit that had been severely try’d. They then inform’d

him, that beginning at the following day, in which he would be allow’d

to resume the use of his speech, they would give him twelve days to

recollect in writing, or in his memory, what he had learn’d in the

conferences he had heard, or from his lectures; in order to prepare him

to answer to three questions in morality, which they should propose

to him at the expiration of this term. It was for this end that the

conferences now ceas’d, that he might not be perplex’d with new

subjects for application. That they would only hold one discourse a

day, to spend their leisure time, and that it should be upon a subject

a little differing from the former; to which he might only give such

attention as he should judge proper. That his attendance at prayers and

sacrifices should be no longer than his piety and inclination should

direct. To conclude, that he should have the same liberty as before to

converse with all the priests either in publick or private; and that he

even might salute the priestesses, but he was desir’d however not to

speak to them.

Sethos, who had before made great advances, as well in virtue as

knowledge, had gain’d extraordinary advantage during his retreat and

silence with regard to both these views: so that at the beginning

of this third month, he seem’d, in some measure, to be equal to the

priests; and from thenceforth they behav’d to him as great men are

wont to do to one another. He had so much resolution and presence of

mind the first day not to ask again for Amedes, who was out of sight;

and the priests, who did not suspect him of indifferency, perceiv’d

he was ready himself to meet every trial they were willing to subject

his mind to. However, he was restor’d to him the same evening: But

the politeness, which was natural to him, having prompted him to

take advantage of the freedom which was allow’d him with respect to

the priestesses, he was not a little surpriz’d, that the first time

he saluted two or three of them, whom he met together in a walk of

the garden, they did not return him the compliment. He was, in some

measure, asham’d that he had not presuppos’d some such reserve in a

place like that: and turning this trifle to advantage, he imagin’d they

would thereby inure him to comply with the customs of every place, tho’

never so singular or trivial.

The discourses or conferences of the two preceding months had been

held by priests of the greatest ability and experience in the subjects

they had treated. But if in the whole class of sacred literature

there was one man superior in genius and eloquence: it was he who

was employ’d to hold the twelve last discourses at the beginning of

this last month. For his general subject he chose the GENIUS OF A

TRUE INITIATE. An initiate, said he, is a new man, in whom the love

of virtue and his duty has taken place of all those passions which

were before the motives of all his actions. In every juncture, what

he will do is infallibly visible in what he ought to do. Life is of

no account to him. It is neither example, nor opportunity, nor a

transitory passion which engages him to expose it. These circumstances

are necessary to the man of passion: but the man of principle, such

as an initiate, holds, as it were, his life in his hand; and if he

has not put it to stake, it is because his duty has not yet requir’d

it. Glory is generally inseparable from those eminent virtues which

we see practis’d by initiates; but ’tis neither their motive nor

their aim. It is requisite to preserve the idea and name of glory

among men, especially with respect to those who, being high born,

are seldom animated by any other sensible interest. But in the main,

glory is a spur only to the weak, and to novices. The motive of an

initiate is the voice of his duty, and his aim the discharge of it.

From hence it comes, said he, that many of our initiates had rather

do private services to their prince or country in obscurity, than be

distinguish’d by the most shining dignities. Ambition has prompted

most candidates to submit to the trials of the body; but the trials of

the mind have eradicated that ambition. In whatever rank an initiate

finds himself plac’d, either by his birth or fortune, he believes

himself to be establish’d in it for no other end, but for the benefit

of his country, and even, if possible, for the whole race of mankind.

So consequently, this man, not being to be biass’d by any desire, or

any fear of his own, is taken up with all the desires, and all the

fears of those whom he is to make happy, as their master, or to serve,

as their fellow-citizen. On this occasion he alledg’d the several great

things, which the first heroes of Egypt, who instituted the worship of

the gods, and the initiation, had done for the world; the security,

happiness and glory which they had at first procur’d for Egypt itself:

But, added he, their magnanimous valour not being to be confin’d within

bounds so streight, they carry’d their profitable arts to nations as

uncultivated as their lands; they purg’d the country of robbers, and

the seas of pyrates; or they transform’d them into a civiliz’d people

by the laws they subjected them to, the sciences they taught them, and

above all, by the heroick virtues of which they set them examples: It

is to them, in short, the world owes that form we now see it in. He

afterwards mention’d the names of the most famous initiates of the

following ages, and related those passages of their lives, which were

as affecting by the singularity of the incidents, as the generosity of

their actions. He finish’d his relation of these wonders by saying,

that the soul of an initiate, that soul so couragious and so sublime,

was humble, gentle, and indulgent. This man, who centers all the

virtues in himself, esteems, and praises the least footsteps of them

which appear in others. He places them above him, who despair ever to

come up to him. He can witness for the sincerity of his intention,

but he mistrusts his own thoughts and his views. He perceives he is

uncapable of committing an injustice or a crime; but he acknowledges

himself liable to all the frailties of nature. Tho’ always upon his

guard against faults, he is ever ready to acknowledge the commission of

them. He is, in short, a man without blemish, who is always studying

to amend; and a perfect man, who is ever striving to make himself more

perfect.

This picture of an initiate, of which I have here given but a faint

sketch, transported Sethos’s admiration. He said to Amedes, Father,

how came it to pass that the priests spoke so indifferently of these

last discourses, which I just now heard; that was, no doubt, one of

their nicest trials, to see whether I had a taste for virtue; whether

the splendor of it would attract my notice; and whether I should be

sensible of its charms? Oh! it is now I begin to live; ’tis only the

true initiate, the virtuous man, knows the sublimity of his being; he

alone enjoys his mind; those who set their hearts upon other objects,

are not worthy to be call’d men. These last discourses are so far from

being of little moment, as the priests seem’d to insinuate, that they

will enable me to answer all the questions they may put to me. I shall

talk from the fountain-head; and all I have to do for the future, will

be to conform the rest of my life to my answers. But, father, continu’d

he, I must have been strangely blind hitherto, not to perceive in you

those sublime virtues, of which I have now so glorious an idea. It was,

without doubt, that humility and indulgence wherein partly consists the

character of a true initiate, that have conceal’d you from my sight.

The king, my grandfather, and the queen, my mother, saw you thro’

this veil, when they singled you out for their counsellor and their

minister. Son, answer’d Amedes, it is sufficient for me if it be true

that I have not dishonour’d the title I bear of an initiate; but it is

for another man to give true lustre to it: The greatness of your birth

imposes laws on you of a larger extent; but then it furnishes you with

greater powers for the practice of eminent virtues, and actions of

generosity. I was sensible of my incapacity to educate a prince like

you, and therefore I immediately borrow’d the assistance of all the

schools of Memphis, to teach you the sciences under masters more able

than myself; and I have endeavour’d to add to the vigilance with which

a governour ought to attend a private education, that emulation which

is rarely seen in a pupil, unless in a publick one. But the sciences

are nothing in comparison to virtue. Who could better instruct you in

that than those men, who have attain’d a consummate knowledge of all

laws divine and human? Common fame gives some small advantage in other

particulars to certain priests of Egypt above those of Memphis; but,

at the same time, allows the preference to these in the knowledge of

morality. What more proper time could they take to discourse to you of

virtue in the most sublime manner, than while you are preparing for the

initiation? This privilege, which has been coveted by the greatest men,

and which, in their esteem, crowns a long series of wonderful actions,

is become a part of your education, and of consequence, my son, is an

engagement to you to begin where they left off.

The day after these twelve days, the high-priest, follow’d by several

others, came into Sethos’s apartment the moment after he was risen,

and said to him, Son, I come to propose the three questions to you,

which you must give answer to in nine days. All our instructions said

he, and even your reading will be laid aside for that time: We suspend

even our common conversations, and you are not allow’d to speak to any

of us in particular till the expiration of that term. It is from the

gods alone you must henceforth intreat that knowledge you may stand

in need of. For these nine days you shall lie in the sanctuary behind

the statues of the three deities, that the goddess Isis may, if she

please, instruct you even in your dreams. We shall every morning, when

you awake, and before the gates of the temple are open’d to the people,

offer a sacrifice to her, and invoke her to pour her wisdom into your

soul. You may spend as much time in the temple as you shall think

convenient; and in our gardens you may meditate upon your answers. In

the mean time, to alleviate your solitude in some measure, you will be

sent for twice every day to our table; but you must observe a profound

silence, and keep up strictly to the austerity which was at first

prescrib’d you for these nine days; during which, you must fast with

bread and water. Give now attention to the three questions I have to

propose to you: What is the principal virtue of a hero? Does heroism

consist in exceeding the bounds of duty? Is it heroick to sacrifice

even one’s honour to the interest of our country, or the general good

of mankind? The high-priest, having twice more distinctly repeated

these three questions, retir’d with the priests that were in his

company.

Sethos being now the second time left alone, the first thing that he

did, was to write down the three questions propos’d to him, that he

might not forget them. The first reflection he made, after considering

them in general, was, that the priests, who, from the first day of his

coming thither, had inform’d him, that their instructions, and his

examination would turn chiefly upon his condition; had discoursed very

little to him upon the duties of a king in particular, and had made

no manner of mention of them in their questions. He concluded from

thence, that they at least foresaw he would never attain to the royal

dignity, and that all he was to expect was, to be a hero: After having

utter’d some sighs for his misfortune, and the frailty of his father,

he resolv’d to submit to the destiny the gods had prepar’d for him, and

promis’d, with their assistance, to conform himself to it.

Going out of his apartment towards the temple, he perceiv’d there was

a profound silence throughout the whole house. And, indeed, during

these nine days, the priests, and all that inhabited this vast mansion,

took care not to talk in his presence; and in his absence they only

whisper’d, and that but upon emergent occasions: At other times the

priest and priestesses walk’d, and discours’d together at different

hours in the garden. But during these nine days, Sethos never saw any

body there but the priests, who by turns watch’d the Ox Apis that

graz’d in the park, which was in the middle of it. The women from

the city came to the priestesses, or to the sacerdotal palace by the

street-way, but the priestesses never open’d the gallery-doors to them.

These doors were even shut to the priestesses themselves during the

nine days, and they had no manner of communication with the inward part

of the house, tho’ their husbands were always allow’d to go to them.

Both men and women, that had any business with the priests, were not at

any time admitted farther than the outward halls: so that no alteration

being made without, it was never known in the city when there was a

candidate with the priests: and this, as well as the other secrets of

the house, was kept as inviolably by their wives, and the officers of

the second order, as by themselves.

Sethos was not a little surpriz’d upon being led into the common

refectory, to find the priests table no better serv’d than his; and

that confining themselves, on his account, to the same fast which

they had enjoin’d him, they had at each of their two meals no greater

allowance than himself, viz. nine ounces of bread and a little water.

He thence concluded, that the priests regarded the justness of his

answers as a matter of very great importance; and that requir’d his

deepest reflection. However, as those who aspir’d to the initiation,

some of whom were officers of war, had not all the gift of elocution,

nor were all capable of giving an advantageous turn to their thoughts,

a fault in expression was no hinderance to them, it being by no means

a trial of wit or eloquence which they pretended to put them to: all

the candidate had to do, was to manifest that he possess’d an upright

beneficent heart, purg’d from that errour, which is but too common in

those who knowing their power, think their grandeur consists in setting

themselves above all rule, and being fear’d by other men. It is true,

when such persons did come under their hands, who were prompted to

aspire to the initiation by no other motives but temerity or ambition,

or who seem’d incorrigible; they took pleasure in ridding the world of

them, by sending them to exercise their valour and cunning in their

subterraneous mansions. Many of those conquerors and politicians so

famed in our histories would have been bury’d alive here. However, such

examples were very rare. They must have been very ignorant, who, before

they attempted the probation, did not know that the character of an

initiate was a compound of all the virtues. And if they did not know it

before, must have been very untractable not to reform their judgments

and manners by all the instructions and reproofs bestow’d upon them

during the course of the purification of their minds. It was next to

an impossibility for an initiate, after being confirm’d, to degenerate

from his profession. There is no emulation among men more powerful

than that of keeping up the honour of a small society into which we

are admitted by merit and virtue. This emulation was, perhaps, not so

efficacious in foreign initiates; because not having the example of

their brethren before their eyes, they might forget their engagements:

But as they were only made partakers of the second or particular

initiation, they were not entirely of the same order with the Egyptian

initiates, and the honour of their society was not dependent on them.

Sethos had already spent five whole days in meditating upon his

answers; when notice was brought to the high-priest, that there was

at the gate of the temple a young Carthaginian, who seem’d by his air

and attendants, to be a person of the highest distinction. He publickly

declared, he had been doom’d by the senate of his city to repair to

Memphis, to seek atonement for the death of his brother, whom he had

had the misfortune to kill in a battle.

[Illustration: Decorative footer]

[Illustration: Decorative header]

THE

LIFE

OF

_SETHOS_.