Not far from the city of Pi-Bast stood the temple of the goddess
Hator.
In the month Paoni (March-April), on the day of the vernal equinox,
about nine in the evening, when the star Sirius inclined toward its
setting, two wayfaring priests and one penitent stopped in the
gateway. The penitent, who was barefoot, had ashes on his head, and
was covered with a coarse cloth which concealed his visage.
Though the air was clear, it was impossible to distinguish the faces
of those wayfarers. They stood in the shadow of two immense statues of
the cow-headed divinity which guarded the entrance to the temple and
with kindly eyes protected the province of Habu from pestilence,
southern winds, and bad overflows.
When he had rested somewhat, the penitent fell with his face to the
earth and prayed long in that position. Then he rose, took a copper
knocker, and struck a blow. A deep metallic sound went through all the
courts, reverberated from the thick walls of the temple, and flew over
the wheat-fields, above the mud cottages of earth-tillers, over the
silvery waters of the Nile, where the faint cry of wakened birds
answered it.
After a long time a murmur was heard inside, and the question,--
"Who rouses us?"
"Rameses, a slave of the divinity," said the penitent.
"For what hast thou come?"
"For the light of wisdom."
"What right hast them to ask for it?"
"I received the inferior consecration, and in great processions within
the temple I carry a torch."
The gates opened widely. In the centre stood a priest in a white robe;
he stretched forth his hand, and said slowly and distinctly,--
"Enter. When thou crossest this threshold, may divine peace dwell in
thy soul, and may that be accomplished for which thou implorest
humbly."
When the penitent had fallen at his feet, the priest, making some
signs above his head, whispered,--
"In the name of Him who is, who has been, and who will be, who created
everything, whose breath fills the visible and the invisible world,
and who is life eternal."
When the gate had closed, the priest took Rameses by the hand, and in
the gloom amid the immense columns of the forecourt he led him to the
dwelling assigned to him. It was a small cell lighted by a lamp. On
the stone pavement lay a bundle of dry grass; in a corner stood a
pitcher of water, and near it was a barley cake.
"I see that here I shall have rest indeed after my occupations with
the nomarchs," said Rameses, joyously.
"Think of eternity," replied the priest; and he withdrew.
This answer struck Rameses disagreeably. Though he was hungry, he did
not wish to eat a cake or drink water. He sat on the grass, and
looking at his feet wounded from the journey, asked himself why he had
come, why he had put himself voluntarily out of his office.
Seeing the walls of the cell and its poverty, he recalled the years of
his boyhood passed at a priests' school. How many blows of sticks he
had received there, how many nights he had passed on a stone floor as
punishment! Even then Rameses felt the hatred and fear which he had
felt before toward that harsh priest who to all his prayers and
questions answered only with, "Think of eternity."
After some months of uproar to drop into such silence, to exchange the
court of a prince for obscurity and loneliness, and instead of feasts,
women, and music, to feel around and above him the weight of walls!
"I have gone mad! I have gone mad!" muttered Rameses.
There was a moment when he wished to leave the temple at once; but
afterward he thought that they might not open the gate to him. The
sight of his dirty legs, of the ashes falling out of his hair, the
roughness of his penitential rags, all this disgusted him. If he had
had his sword even! But would he, dressed as he was in that place,
dare to use it?
He felt an overpowering dread, and that sobered him. He remembered
that the gods in temples send down fear on men, and that this fear
must be the beginning of wisdom.
"Moreover, I am the viceroy and the heir of the pharaoh," thought he;
"who will harm me in this temple?"
He rose and went out of the cell. He found himself in a broad court
surrounded by columns. The stars were shining brightly; hence he saw
at one end of the court an immense pylon, at the other an open
entrance to the temple.
He went thither. At the door there was gloom, and somewhere far off
flamed a number of lamps, as if in the air and unsupported. Looking
more attentively, he saw standing closely together between the
entrance and the lamps a forest of columns, the tops of which were
lost in darkness. At a distance, perhaps two hundred yards from him,
he saw indistinctly the gigantic legs of a sitting goddess with her
hands resting on her knees, from which the lamplight was reflected
dimly.
All at once he heard a sound from afar. From a side passage a row of
white figures pushed forth, moving in couples. This was a night
procession of priests, who, singing in two choruses, gave homage to
the statue of the goddess: _Chorus I._ "I am He who created heaven and
earth and made all things contained in them." _Chorus II._ "I am He
who created the waters and the great overflow, He who made for the
bull his mother whose parent he himself is." _Chorus I._ "I am He who
made heaven and the secrets of its horizon; as to the gods I it was
who placed their souls in them." _Chorus II._ "I am He who when he
opens his eyes there is light in the world and when he closes them
darkness is present." _Chorus I._ "The waters of the Nile flow when he
commands." _Chorus II._ "But the gods do not know what his name
is."[9]
[9] Authentic.
The voices, indistinct at first, grew stronger, so that each word was
audible, and when the procession disappeared the words scattered among
the columns, growing ever fainter. At last every sound ceased.
"And still those people," thought Rameses, "not only eat, drink, and
gather wealth--they really perform religious services even in the
night-time; though, how is that to affect the statue?"
The prince had seen more than once the statues of boundary divinities
bespattered with mud by the inhabitants of another province, or shot
at from bows or slings by mercenary soldiers. "If gods are not
offended by insult, they must also care little for prayers and
processions. Besides, who has seen gods?" said the prince to himself.
The immensity of the temple, its countless columns, the lamps burning
in front of the statue,--all this attracted Rameses. He wished to look
around in that mysterious immensity, and he went forward. Then it
seemed to him that some hand from behind touched his head tenderly. He
looked around. No one was there; so he went farther.
This time the two hands of some person seized him by the head, and a
third, a great hand, rested on his shoulder.
"Who is here?" cried the prince; and he rushed in among the columns.
But he stumbled and almost fell: some one caught him by the feet.
Again terror mastered Rameses more than in the cell. He fled
distracted, knocking against columns which seemed to bar the way to
him, and darkness closed around the man on all sides.
"Oh, save, holy goddess, save me!" whispered he.
At this moment he stopped: some yards in front of him was the great
door of a temple through which the starry sky was visible. He turned
his head. Amid the forest of gigantic columns lamps were burning, and
the gleam of them was reflected faintly from the bronze knees of the
holy Hator.
The prince returned to his cell, crushed and excited; his heart
throbbed like that of a bird caught in a net. For the first time in
many years he fell with his face to the earth and prayed ardently for
favor and forgiveness.
"Thou wilt be heard," answered a sweet voice above him.
Rameses raised his head quickly, but there was no one in the cell:
the door was closed, the walls were thick. He prayed on therefore more
ardently, and fell asleep in that position, with his face on the
stones and his arms extended.
When he woke next morning, he was another man: he had experienced the
might of the gods, and favor had been promised.
From that time through a long series of days he gave himself to
devotional exercises with faith and alacrity. In his cell he spent
long hours over prayers, he had his head shaven, and put on priestly
garments, and four times in twenty-four hours he took part in a chorus
of the youngest priests.
His past life, taken up with amusements, roused in him aversion, and
the disbelief which he had acquired amid foreigners and dissolute
youth filled him with dread in that interval. And if that day the
choice had been given him to take either the throne or the priestly
office, he would have hesitated.
A certain day the great prophet of the temple summoned the prince, and
reminded him that he had not entered for prayers exclusively, but to
learn wisdom. The prophet praised his devotion, declared that he was
purified then from worldly foulness, and commanded him to become
acquainted with the schools connected with that temple.
Rather through obedience than curiosity, the prince went directly from
him to the interior court, where the department of reading and writing
was situated.
That was a great hall, lighted through an opening in the roof. On mats
some tens of naked pupils were seated holding wax tablets in their
hands. One wall was of smooth alabaster; before it stood a teacher who
wrote characters with chalks of various colors.
When the prince entered, the pupils, almost all of the same age that
he was, fell on their faces. The teacher bowed, and stopped his actual
labor to explain to the youths the great meaning of knowledge.
"My beloved," said he, "a man who has no heart for wisdom must occupy
himself with handwork and torment his eyesight. But he who understands
the worth of knowledge and forms himself accordingly may gain all
kinds of power and every court office. Remember this.[10]
[10] Authentic.
"Look at the wretched fate of men unacquainted with writing. A smith
is black and grimy, his hands are full of lumps, and he toils night
and day all his lifetime. The quarryman pulls his arms out to satisfy
his stomach. The mason while forming a capital in lotus shape is
hurled off by wind from the scaffold. A weaver has bent knees, a maker
of weapons is ever travelling: barely does he come to his house in the
evening when he must leave it. The fingers of a wall painter smell
disagreeably, and his time passes in trimming up trifles. The courier
when taking farewell of his family must leave a will, for he may have
to meet wild beasts or Asiatics.
"I have shown you the lot of men of various labors, for I wish you to
love writing, which is your mother, and now I will present to you its
beauties. It is not an empty word on earth, it is the most important
of all occupations. He who makes use of writing is respected from
childhood; he accomplishes every great mission. But he who takes no
part in it lives on in wretchedness. School sciences are as difficult
as mountains, but one day of them lasts through eternity. So learn
quickly and you will love them. The scribe has a princely position;
his pen and his book win him wealth and acceptance."
After a sounding discourse on the dignity of knowledge, a discourse
which Egyptian pupils had heard without change for three millenniums,
the master took chalk and on the alabaster wall began to write the
alphabet. Each letter was expressed through a number of hieroglyphs,
or a number of demotic characters. The picture of an eye, a bird, or a
panther signified _A_, a sheep or a pot _B_, a man standing or a boat
_K_, a serpent _R_, a man sitting or a star _S_. The abundance of
signs expressing each sound made the art of reading or writing
extremely laborious.
Rameses was wearied by mere listening, during which the only relief
was when the teacher commanded some pupil to draw, or to name some
letter, and beat him with a cane when he failed in his effort.
Taking farewell of the teacher and the pupils, the prince from the
school of scribes passed to the school of surveyors. There they taught
youth to draw plans of fields which were for the most part
rectangular, also to take the elevation of land by means of two laths
and a square. In this department also they explained the art of
writing numbers no less involved in hieroglyphic or demotic
characters. But pure arithmetical problems formed a higher course, and
were solved by means of bullets.
Rameses had enough of this, and only after some days would he visit
the school of medicine.
This was also a hospital, or rather great garden containing a
multitude of fragrant plants and trees. Patients passed whole days in
the open air and in sunlight, on beds where strips of stretched canvas
took the place of mattresses.
The greatest activity reigned when the prince entered. Some patients
were bathing in a pond of running water; attendants were rubbing one
man with fragrant ointments, and burning perfumes before another.
There were some whom they had put to sleep by looking at them and by
stretching out their bodies; one patient was groaning while they were
setting his sprained ankle.
To a certain woman who was grievously sick the priest was giving some
mixture from a goblet, while uttering an enchantment which had power
in connection with this remedy,--
"Go, cure, go, drive that out of my heart, out of my members."[11]
[11] Authentic.
Then the prince in company with a great leech went to the pharmacy,
where one of the priests was preparing cures from plants, honey, olive
oil, from the skins of serpents and lizards, from the bones and fat of
beasts. When Rameses questioned him, the man did not take his eyes
from the work. He looked continually, and ground the materials,
uttering a prayer as he did so,--
"Thou hast cured Isis, thou hast cured Isis, thou hast cured Horus--O
Isis, great enchantress, make me well, free me from all evil, from
harmful red things, from fever of the god, from fever of the
goddess[12]--
[12] Authentic.
"O Shauagat, eenagate, synie! Erukate! Kauaruchagate! Paparauka
paparaka paparura."
"What is he saying?" asked the prince.
"A secret," answered the leech, putting his finger on his lips.
When they came out to an empty court, Rameses said to the great
leech,--
"Tell me, holy father, what is the art of curing, and what are its
methods. For I have heard that sickness is an evil spirit which
settles in a man and torments him, because it is hungry, until it
receives the food that it wishes. And that one evil spirit or sickness
feeds on honey, another on olive oil, and a third on the excreta of
animals. A leech, therefore, should know first what spirit has settled
in the sick man, and then what kind of nourishment is required by that
spirit, so that it should not torture the patient."
The priest thought awhile and then answered,--
"What sickness is and in what way it falls on the human body, I cannot
tell, O Rameses. But to thee I will explain, for thou hast been
purified, how we govern ourselves in giving medicine.
"Suppose a given man to be sick in the liver. We priests know that the
liver is under the star Peneter-Deva,[13] that the cure must depend on
that star.
[13] Planet Venus.
"But here the sages are divided into two schools. Some assert that it
is necessary to give the man who is sick in his liver things over
which Peneter-Deva has influence, therefore copper, lapis lazuli,
extract of flowers, above all verbena and valerian, finally, various
parts of the body of the turtle-dove and the goat. Other leeches
consider that when the liver is diseased it is necessary to cure it
with just the opposite remedies, and the opponent of Peneter-Deva
being Sebek,[14] to give quicksilver, emerald, and agate, hazel-wood
and coltsfoot, also parts of the body of a toad and an owl rubbed into
powder.
[14] Planet Mercury.
"But this is not all, for it is necessary to think of the day, the
month, and the hour of the day, for each of these spaces of time are
under the influence of a star which must support or weaken the action
of the medicine. Besides, it is needful to remember what star and what
sign of the Zodiac rules the sick person. Only when the leech
considers all these can he prescribe an infallible remedy."
"And do ye help all sick people in the temple?"
The priest shook his head.
"No. The mind of man, which should take in all these details of which
I have spoken, makes mistakes very easily. And what is worse, envious
spirits, the geniuses of other temples, jealous of their fame,
frequently hinder the leech and destroy the effect of his medicines.
The result, therefore, may be that one patient will return to perfect
health, another simply grows better, while a third remains without
change, though there happen some who become still sicker, or even
die-- This is as the gods will!"
The prince listened with attention, but confessed in soul that he did
not understand greatly. All at once he recalled the object of his
visit to the temple, and inquired of the great leech unexpectedly,--
"Ye were to show me, holy father, the secret of the treasure of the
pharaoh. Was it those things which we have seen?"
"By no means. We know nothing of state affairs. But when the great
seer comes, the holy priest Pentuer, he will remove from thy eyes the
curtain."
Rameses took leave of the leech with increased curiosity as to what
they were to show him.