About twenty years before, a Tyrian, by name Zoros, of the offspring of Cadmus, a man of valour and knowledge, had laid the foundation of the city of Carthage, or at least had enlarg’d the bounds of Carthada. In his frequent voyages to establish a trade on all the coasts of the Mediterranean, he had found no place for a settlement so convenient as this little city, built upon that agreeable shore, which has ever since been call’d, The sojourn of the nymphs. He at last resolv’d to settle at Carthada, and to inlarge it. To this end he carry’d all his vessels thither, laden with immense riches. He was receiv’d with joy by the inhabitants, who were not yet arriv’d to that pitch of opulency they soon after attain’d to by his assiduity. He enlarg’d and embellish’d it to such a degree, that it was hardly known to be the same; and he preserv’d its ancient name, only adding to it a Phœnician termination. The memory of Cadmus, from whom Zoros was descended, and whose virtues he pursu’d, made him valu’d, not only by the citizens of Carthage, but of all those cities which were built by this hero 200 years before, in the neighbourhood of it; and with which the country call’d Zeugitania was fill’d. Thus Zoros, in a very short time, form’d a considerable state: but to render his growing authority more acceptable, he chose to give his government the form of an aristocracy. He instituted a senate compos’d of ten citizens of Carthage, and of two of every other city, and for himself he only retain’d the title of prince of the senate. This, according to my memoirs, is the true origin of the city of Carthage, and conformable to the testimonies of Philistus, Appianus of Alexandria, and some others of our authors, put together; for the history of Dido is posterior to this epoch by some hundreds of years; and it is besides certain, that this fugitive princess only built the citadel of Byrsa, as an addition to this city, which was long before founded.

The high-priest would immediately have known the name of the young Carthaginian, whose fame was already sufficiently spread, but he would declare it to none but to him in person, thinking thereby to insinuate himself into his esteem. He was not yet acquainted with the character of these inflexible men, who, in points of religion, were no respecters of persons. The high-priest sent to acquaint him, that he should not receive him in the temple, but he must present himself at the gate of their college. That, in the mean time, he might have forborn divulging himself an action which demanded an atonement, and that these circumstances ought to have been reveal’d to the priests alone. The Carthaginian, who was more asham’d of this reprimand than of his odious exploit, in which he privately gloried, suffer’d himself to be led peaceably to the gate appointed. They made him come in alone, and told his attendants, they would hear no more of him till after three days. The high-priest, to whom he was introduc’d standing in the midst of his companions, without allowing him time to speak, told him; That before he made enquiry whether he had slain his brother spontaneously, or by accident; whether it was an actual assassination, or a murder committed under the pretext of the publick good, or his own defence; they all look’d upon the fatal occasion which had brought him to this unfortunate action (so repugnant to nature) as a great mark of the anger of the gods pour’d down upon him: That he wou’d be put three days under strict confinement, and wou’d be allow’d but what was barely necessary for his subsistance. According to the laws of Egypt, added he, not only he who kills, but he who does not, to the utmost of his power, defend a person that is attack’d, and in danger of being assassinated, is guilty of death. We don’t subject strangers to our laws, knowing, that with many, the punishment of homicide extends no farther than exile; and the favourable tribunal of atonement is not sanguinary even in Egypt. We endeavour to inspire a fear of the gods, and a terror of their judgments into those Egyptians who are brought before us only for accidents or involuntary misfortunes, and into those strangers who are often sent to us for their crimes; that as well one as the other may depart from hence more circumspect, and, if possible, more virtuous than the innocent themselves. However said he, to conclude, prepare to morrow to give a faithful account of your action in our full assembly. ’Till then, we will hear nothing concerning you. If your confession be then sincere, it will absolve you before the gods; but if, on the contrary, it is false or disguis’d, notwithstanding the exteriour expiation you will receive, you will carry away your eternal damnation.

The next morning the Carthaginian was sent for out of his prison, and brought as a criminal, cloath’d in sackcloth, into a great oval hall. The high-priest was seated at the upper end, and all the other priests on each side of him on seats something lower than his, as at the tribunal of the labyrinth. Initiates were allow’d to assist at these courts: so Amedes and Orpheus were present at this: they were plac’d below all the priests, and young Sethos sate without the row, and below the initiates. As it was the trial of a foreigner, who could not know him, and as his exercises were so far advanc’d, they thought it might be of advantage to him to hear judgment pronounc’d in a cause, which appear’d to be of importance and singular. The Carthaginian standing, and bare-headed, thus address’d himself to the court in the Egyptian tongue, of which he was perfectly master.

Venerable chief of this sacred college, and you the priests of the great goddess Isis; you see here before you Saphon, the son of the renowned Zoros, founder of Carthage, the establisher and prince of his senate. Tho’ my brother Giscon[59] and I were twins, the prerogative of elder brother has never been disputed me. However, my father, who begins to advance in years, having purpos’d to settle the succession, during his own life, call’d my right in question, and annex’d to the glory of filling his place on the throne, a condition, which he offer’d my brother equal with me. The condition was, that which ever of us should, within the course of three years, perform the most heroick action, should be declar’d his successor, by him and by the senate. I won’t attribute this thought of my father’s to an unjust prædilection in favour of my brother, tho’ my friends had before warn’d me of it: I rather choose to believe, that, enjoying the benefit of many victories I had gain’d for him; and considering, that by the success of my arms I had added all Numidia to his dominions, he did not question but I should carry the prize before my brother; and that so, adding the right of merit to that of my birth, I might thereby obtain a greater influence over the people I was to govern after his death. I don’t pretend by this discourse to insinuate that my brother wanted valour. However, he not only had never attempted to inlarge the new empire of Carthage, which he might have done on the other side; but he even never assisted me in my expeditions. Since we have been both of age to bear arms, his only exploits have been to repulse the Barbarians, who made frequent incursions into our southern provinces upon which they border’d, and who sometimes advanc’d to the very gates of Carthage. But to do justice to his vigilance and patience, ’tis certain he never had the opportunity of attacking and defeating more at once than parties of forty or fifty of these rovers: so that all these skirmishes join’d together, were in no measure to be compar’d to the glory and advantage of three or four victories I had obtain’d, and which began to make our empire one of the most powerful hitherto known. This was the state of affairs when my father made us both the proposal I have mention’d, in the assembled senate. I immediately concluded, that heroick actions were alone to be sought in war; and being persuaded that the principal virtue of a hero is valour, I prepar’d to fulfil the condition prescrib’d, by taking arms, and extending the conquests I had already begun.

[59] Saphon and Giscon are mention’d in ancient authors, who have wrote of Carthage, as very nearly related; and some place them before the Trojan war. See Mariana’s history of Spain, l. 1. & 2. and the remarks of father Charenton.

Towards the conclusion of the two first years I had advanc’d beyond Numidia, and conquer’d all Mauritania Sitifensis, so call’d from its metropolis Sitifi, which I had taken after a long siege. I propos’d to carry my arms to the foot of mount Atlas; and sparing none but the sacred country of the Hesperides, I did not despair of reaching the banks of the ocean in the course of the third year. But my designs were interrupted by an unexpected and surprizing account I receiv’d from Carthage, which oblig’d me to return thither. My brother disappear’d the very day after the proposal made by my father; and I concluded from that time, that he had given up all pretension: But I was inform’d at Sitifi, that he was gone over to those rambling nations who before us’d to invade our territories, and whom he himself had so often drove from our frontiers. I was inform’d he spent the two first years of his absence in going, with innumerable hazards and fatigues, either to their caves, which were many miles distant one from the other; or to their tents, which were frequently remov’d: That, by force of reiterated invitations and remonstrances, he had at last prevail’d upon them to unite, and to form a civiliz’d nation, to build cities at proper distances for their common conveniency, and to lay the foundation of a metropolis for the center of their dominions. We soon got intelligence, that, on the other side of the mountains, which we look upon as our borders to the southward, all diligence was imploy’d in raising the walls of the city of Capsa, situate on a river which empties itself into the sea over-against the little Syrtes. Thus these people, who before were known by no other name than that of their unhappy profession, rovers, affected now to be call’d Capsans, and demanded respect from their neighbours, and even from us. We must allow, that being now taken up with their settlement, they had for some time forbore their irruptions into our territories: But you will easily conceive, O! ye wise priests of Memphis, what an uneasiness an empire thus rising up in the neighbourhood of our own, must cause us. I therefore thought it for my honour, and a duty incumbent on me, as well as for the interest of Carthage, to oppose the rise of this state. I prepar’d therefore to fall upon them in their forts, which were not yet finish’d, before their militia or even their republick could be regulated. As I had already a large army, I was presently in a readiness to march. As soon as my brother had notice of it, he sent heralds to meet me; who, however, call’d themselves deputies from the Capsans, and not from him. They declar’d, that they had no intention of living in enmity with the Carthaginians; that their whole design was to form a republick like ours; with this difference, that the inferiority of their numbers depriv’d them of all thoughts of acting upon the offensive: that they had begun to build forts and strong holds, and should finish them, only to defend themselves against their neighbours, if they should be so unjust to oppose their establishment. I answer’d them, It was enough for me to look on them as enemies, and even as criminals, that their chief was a son of the founder of Carthage, who, instead of acting in conjunction with his brother for the glory of his nation, destroy’d the hopes he had of making it one day the head of all the inhabited Africa, by erecting a republick in rivalship to his own; and who, if he was suffer’d to go on, would for ever set bounds to the Carthaginian empire towards the south. They reply’d, they had, indeed, follow’d the counsels of my brother, in forming themselves into a sociable and reasonable people, with whom we might enter into an alliance, and who would be our shelter against the incursions of the Garamantes and other barbarous nations less civiliz’d than they had been. And farther, that my brother had accepted of no command amongst them; and that in case of a battle, it was with them alone I should engage. As my motive to this expedition was state-policy, which would not allow the delay of a negociation; and besides, as my whole aim was the performance of heroick actions, I told them, in a word, I would give them my final answer in battle.

I therefore follow’d the heralds in their footsteps; and tho’ I led a whole army, they had enough to do to be more expeditious than I was. I intended to have pass’d the mountains, and have met them at the foot of the walls of Capsa: But as soon as the Capsans had receiv’d my answer, they prevented me, by crossing these mountains themselves, and thereby gain’d the advantage of fighting only on our territories. I was surpriz’d to discover, from the eminency of a little hill at some distance from them, an army that seem’d to be of about 40000 men, who had the mountains on their rear, thro’ the passages of which they might easily be supply’d with fresh troops. However, as my army consisted of 100000 men, I thought my self in a condition to attack them. I halted a day and a night behind the hill which cover’d us, knowing, that as soon as I came in sight, I must engage. The enemy, on their side, as if they were as much inclin’d as I to end the quarrel by a battle, had left a large plain before them, whither I led my troops in battle-array: They even gave them time to post themselves, designing, without doubt, to engage them all at once. But then attacking us in front, and on both sides, they added to the order and resolution of disciplin’d soldiers, as they actually now were, the cunning they practis’d in former times, of giving the onset, and then immediately retiring. The battle, which began before noon, had already lasted full five hours, and we began to lose, by far, more men than they: I therefore resolv’d to make directly up to my brother, whom I had long known by his Carthaginian armour, and the motions he gave himself in the army he commanded; though, for shame, as I presum’d, of being in arms against his own Father, and of staining himself with the blood of his own country-men, he never lifted up the visor of his helmet. Notwithstanding his activity, which carry’d him to every part of the battle where he thought his presence necessary, I soon came up to him. Traiterous son and brother (said I, accosting him) let the death of one of us put an end to this battle, too bloody for thy country. Without answering me, he with his sword put by the blow I had aim’d at the bottom of his helmet: But as he turn’d about to go away, I thrust mine to the hilt under his armour; and in the same instant he fell dead at his horse’s feet. This blow chang’d the face of the battle: The Capsans retir’d in good order thro’ the passages of their mountains, and we remain’d masters of the field of battle. However, as I perceiv’d they put themselves in a posture to dispute the passage, and that my army, which was diminish’d 30000 men, was weary’d and disheartned, I retir’d, and for this time abandon’d the design I had of razing the walls of Capsa; so my brother’s fatal enterprize yet subsists, notwithstanding the defeat of the Capsans, and his death.

As soon as we return’d to Carthage, my father let me know, that the first time he saw me should be in the senate: He there, in my presence, declar’d to the whole body assembled, that the affliction he could not forbear labouring under for the death of my brother, notwithstanding his infidelity, to which he always gave the name of evident, had depriv’d him of that freedom of mind which was necessary to form a sound and upright judgment, with respect to me; and that therefore he referr’d it wholly to them. After a long deliberation, during which I retir’d, I was call’d in again; and the eldest senator, speaking in the name of the rest, said, That the senate, judging only by the exterior of things, and willing to prevent the danger of so ambiguous an example as that of my brother, was about to condemn his memory, tho’ with regret, as having been slain in arms against his father and his country; That in relation to me, without any decision on the condition prescrib’d, and annulling the proposal which had been made us, since my brother being dead, and I alone, it was now become unnecessary, they confirm’d to me, even with the consent of my father, the succession to the principality of the senate, to which I had before a natural right by a moment of primogeniture; but that to avert from me the anger of the gods, who alone know the grounds of things, and as a reparation of the prejudice that might be conceiv’d against me of having, under an honourable pretext, rid my self of a dangerous competitor, I should repair to the priests of Memphis, the most renown’d of all Egypt for their knowledge in religion and morality, and humbly supplicate the atonement of my crime from them: This, O venerable chief, and ye most sacred priests, is a faithful relation of my case, and the cause which brings me before your tribunal; I intreat you will add to the expiation I desire for what is past, your wise instruction for my future conduct.

As soon as the Carthaginian had finish’d his discourse, the high-priest made him sit down on a stool which was plac’d behind him, and spoke as follows: Saphon, Son of Zoros, we have long since had a very great value for your father, the pacifick founder of Carthage, whose exploits have always tended to the good of mankind. All the judgments of your senate, which have come to our knowledge, have given us a great idea of their wisdom. We honour’d the virtue of your brother, before the last battle, which you have related to us, and of which we had before no particular account. With respect to you, we perceive, by your discourse, and we knew before by your fame, that you are a great warriour; but your principles are not conformable to ours. We have here a pupil, whom I will order to speak, and you shall learn from the mouth of a beginner, how much the instructions of our goddess are superior to those confus’d and tumultuous ideas of the greater part of mankind; and especially of those who give themselves up to the blind passion of war. The high-priest immediately call’d Sethos; who approach’d him with great marks of surprize, modesty and obedience. He plac’d him standing opposite to the Carthaginian, and order’d him to give such answer to the discourse he had heard as the goddess should inspire him. The high-priest look’d upon it as a happy rencounter, that there appear’d some heroick actions in the history of Saphon and Giscon; and he did not doubt but Sethos would in this discourse make use of what he had been five days in preparing, in answer to the three questions propos’d to him, viz. What is the principal virtue of a hero? Does heroism consist in exceeding the bounds of duty? Is it heroick for a man to sacrifice even his honour for the interest of his country, or the advantage of mankind? Before the young prince began, the high-priest told Saphon, That the birth of this young man alone would give him right to answer him; and besides that, they were all there present to lead him into the way of truth and justice, if he might happen to depart from it. It was upon this circumstance, to which Orpheus was witness, that he establish’d it as a rule in Greece, that the expiation might be given by those kings who were initiated to the mysteries of Eleusina; as Bellerophon went to receive it from Proetus, king of Argos, not to mention many other examples. Young Sethos thus began his discourse:

Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians, vouchsafe to guide my tongue, and suffer me not to utter any thing that may be unworthy of the instructions your sacred ministers have given me in your name. In my opinion, Saphon, you did not rightly take the sense of the proposal made you, when you believ’d that the heroick action requir’d of you, consisted in assaulting your neighbours, and subduing them without distinction. I don’t hint at the conquest you made of Sitifi after the condition prescrib’d, because as you have not said for what reason you took arms against that people, your relation (to which alone I ought to confine myself) don’t furnish me wherewithal to judge whether your conquest was good or evil. I am, however, persuaded, that if you assaulted it for no other reason, but to gain the glory of having done an heroick action, that very intention has made you fail of it; because an heroick action cannot have the glory of him that does it for its object and aim, but must necessarily have in view the interest and advantage of others. You have given a long account of the motive which led you against the Capsans; and your relation of it alone, in my opinion, is sufficient to shew the injustice of your cause, which sets you at yet a greater distance from heroism; because an heroick action proceeding from a principle of virtue, it is impossible that virtue should subsist with injustice. In reality, you have yourself refuted the pretext of the danger of a republick being erected adjoyning to you, when you allow, that the Capsans, being busied in their settlement, had forbore their inroads into your dominions. These incursions are dangers which those states that are too near the savages can hardly ever free themselves from; because these people never forming themselves into great bodies, it is impossible utterly to root them out; and, slipping by without being perceiv’d, they find passages by the sides of those fortresses and walls, which stop whole armies. Thus your opposing, on account of a very distant danger, the rise of a republick, which, by the narrow bounds of its territories, in comparison of the extent of your empire, could not cause you any apprehension; which, besides, offer’d you its friendship and alliance, and which itself defends you from other more dangerous barbarians, would have brought your country into a present and continual evil, to obtain the honour of a victory profitable to you alone: An example which has been but too often given by those warlike princes, who have sacrific’d not only foreign and innocent nations, but the estates and lives of their own subjects, to their particular fame. You was, I think, yet more in the wrong, by alledging to the Capsan heralds the hopes your nation had conceiv’d of overcoming all the habitable lands of Africa: For, besides that your country has no more right than you to make unjust conquests, the dominions of the Capsans themselves became habitable only by the care they had taken to cultivate their grounds, and to separate them by cities, since they were become a civiliz’d people. So that by attempting to destroy them, it was not your fault, if your country did not remain surrounded, as it had been before, either by dens of thieves or frightful desarts: and you have imitated, at least on this occasion, those conquerors, who, in all appearance, would reduce the whole world into one vast desart.

The beginning of all these errors has been the false idea you have conceiv’d of the character of a hero, when you imagin’d his chief virtue was valour; whereas valour itself is rather a natural and advantageous disposition of the mind and body, than a virtue. We may make, as of several other the like qualities, a good or bad use of it. It is often found in wicked men; and has sometimes made those men bad, who without it would have been good. Valour can alone become laudable and honourable when it is employ’d and directed by a superior virtue. This virtue, in a subject or citizen, is the love of his prince and his country, guided by his obedience alone. In a prince, or the head of a republick, it is the love of his people, heighten’d by the justice he observes with regard even to his neighbours and his enemies. In the hero, to conclude, it is the love of mankind in general, or humanity guided by a zeal founded upon a lively hope of the protection of the gods. So it is this courageous humanity, this zealous love for mankind, which is the chief virtue of a hero. True courage, which, taken in general, is agreeable to every condition, and even to both sexes; but which, apply’d to war, is call’d valour, consists always in facing every danger in the pursuit of our duty. It is this only view of our duty which distinguishes true and virtuous valour from blind fury and unjust violence, and which renders heroism itself reasonable. But I have been taught that there are two sorts of duty: one of condition, and the other of inspiration: The duty of condition regards those, who being necessary to their country or families, or who even mistrusting their capacity, wisely confine themselves to perform the common obligations of their condition, preferable in most men to all other. The duty of inspiration is only proper to those whom the gods seem to have singled out of the common order of men, to lead them to works more sublime in themselves, and of more advantage either to their country, or to mankind: and this last duty, generally pointed out by the singular junctures into which providence puts some men, becomes the duty of a hero. To perform it, requires a valour exalted above that of vulgar conquerors; and thus we see that the true hero or benefactor of mankind has always been esteem’d the most courageous of men. A heart thus inspir’d, a man indued with this genuine heroism, runs no hazard of stopping in the midst of his course; nothing is dangerous to him, but going beyond the bounds of his duty; and his whole attention is to resist every motion of an extravagant valour or magnanimity; that is, which would only tend to his own glory, without turning to the advantage of other men, to whom he has devoted his labours and his life. He knows that sublime virtue is approv’d, not by works of supererogation, but by an entire and perfect accomplishment of those which his duty requires of him. This duty is as extensive as the publick good; but then the publick good gives bounds to it, which he will never go beyond. In short, the hero, far from hunting after vain-glory, exposes himself, for the service of his country, or mankind, to the capricious constructions and unjust judgments of those very men he is serving. Uncapable of committing a base action, under any pretext of advantage whatsoever, he never sacrifices that real honour which is inherent in him: but being stedfast in his undertakings, for the accomplishing of them, he readily sacrifices that seeming honour which depends upon the transitory opinion of envious or misinform’d persons. By these signs, Saphon, the true hero, has been distinguish’d; and by his example we ought to learn, that those actions which make the least shew, are not always the least heroick.

As soon as Sethos had finish’d this discourse, he turn’d about towards the high-priest, who gave him a sign to return to his seat, and then address’d himself to the Carthaginian in the following terms: Saphon, said he, the same spirit which inspires all the servants of our goddess, has made this young man speak, as we ourselves would have spoken. The image he has given you of a hero agrees with that of Giscon, your brother, in the two first years of his expedition. And, indeed, in those enemies, who cost him so much labour while he defended your dominions from their inroads, he discover’d men who in that quality were worthy of his affection and tender regards; and, in serving his country, he imagin’d he might serve them too. According to your own testimony, he underwent all the labours and dangers which attended this duty of inspiration: and to perform it, he, from the beginning, expos’d himself to disadvantageous suspicions, which you yourself have countenanc’d, and through which your father and your senate alone have discover’d the truth. But we make a distinction between these times, and those in which, according to your relation, your brother march’d the Capsan troops into the dominions of Carthage. They had a right of advancing that length to oppose your attack, but he had no authority to lead them thither. This last circumstance is the more blameable in him, and especially in the battle with the Carthaginians, in which he commanded in person; as he thought it was contrary to his duty to accept of any dignity among the Capsans, and as, in all appearance, he had put them into a condition of defending themselves. But let me tell you, you ought to reproach yourself for the wrong he has done. Unjust proceedings often perplex virtue itself. Your brother’s death has been an atonement to the gods for him; and we shall concur with you to appease them in your favour.

However, notwithstanding the injustice of the motives which engag’d you in the Capsan war, and urg’d you to the murder of your brother; as both have been cover’d with the specious pretext of serving your country, your senate has wisely decreed you successor to your father. The title of heir to a crown, or other paternal dignities, do not require those refin’d virtues which are inseparable from a hero: and it is even for the advantage and ease of the publick, that successions be rather dependant on the order of birth, than on the difficult and often dangerous estimate of personal merit. Is seems even as if your brother yielded up that right of succession to you, which he knew he had no pretence to, by leaving Carthage to pursue his heroick design of civilizing a barbarous nation. It is your duty, Saphon, to govern your people according to the maxims you have here had a glimpse of, and rather as a just prince than a great commander. This last quality, which is glorious in a man of your age, who bears arms for the service of his father, is by far less suitable to the head of a great republick, who has actually taken upon him the care of his people, and the maintenance of their laws. We are not so unjust, as not to set a value upon your skill in the art of war; nor do we condemn all your victories. We know that the Nomades, before you conquer’d their country, were as unciviliz’d as the Capsans before your brother’s expedition. We even know, that you was careful to preserve the fertile meadows of Numidia; and that your father, to this day, treats that country as one of his most faithful provinces. To conquer nations, who are destitute of master and laws, in order to make them more happy and more polite than they were before, is allowable. It is even blameless to subdue people who have a chief, and are subjected to laws, when they are unjust and irreconcileable enemies to your country, as we have been inform’d the inhabitants of the Mauritania Sitifensis, which you have very justly brought under your yoke, were, with regard to Carthage. All you have hitherto been wanting in, has been to know the true maxims of morality, and how to guide your valour, and the other noble qualities the gods have endued you with. For want of this knowledge and uprightness of intention, it has happen’d, that either your actions have been unjust, or even those actions which have been good in themselves, have not been acceptable in the eyes of the gods. We shall here put an end to the instructions you yourself have desired. Reflect on them in silence the remainder of this day. Tomorrow you shall pass thro’ the corporal expiation; and the next day we shall offer the expiatory sacrifice. The Carthaginian would have offer’d something in his own defence; but the officers of the second order, who had the care of his person, and who led him away, inform’d him, that he was not allow’d to reply; and that, besides, it would be superfluous before a tribunal of mediation and grace. As soon as he was retir’d, the high-priest ask’d all his companions, if they did not think Sethos had in his discourse fully answer’d the three questions which had been propos’d to him six days before. They all reply’d, he had sufficiently resolv’d them; and that, on occasion of the history of the Carthaginian and his brother, he had made his answer as extensive and as precise as could be requir’d of him. If so, said the high-priest, we will finish the nine days fast, and invoke the gods, that they will eternally imprint in the mind of this young prince, those maxims which they themselves have inspir’d him with: And I believe we may likewise dispense our house from that silence which they must otherwise have kept three days longer in favour of any other candidate who had not finish’d so soon as this. This silence would even be difficult to keep amidst all the ceremonies of atonement for the Carthaginian. I believe we may admit Sethos to them, because, by the answers he has given, he has already merited the privilege of the manifestation. The priests were unanimously of the same opinion.

The next morning at break of day, the priests of the expiation, attended by several officers of the second order, went to fetch the Carthaginian out of his prison; in which was a door that open’d to the subterranean canal, which the candidates must pass in their trials for the initiation. This door was near the water-fall, above the bars through which the water enter’d into that canal. This door they open’d on the inside for him to go out. Both sides of the water were made light by means of torches, and discover’d to his eyes a frightful preparation of machines, and of people appointed to manage them. On the bank on his side stood a vessel of brass, fill’d with a thickish liquor; and close by the water, a piece of red-hot iron, of the length of the tallest man, and hollow’d out in its breadth, which was about three feet, so that it resembled a long and large pipe cut in half the length-ways: It was supported by iron-feet over a fire of coals, and one end of it was a little sloaping towards the water: An officer of the second order held the end of a rope of about the thickness of a little finger; which crossing the breadth of the canal, was wound round the concave circumference of a very large wheel on the other side: Thro’ the center of this wheel went an axle, to which were fasten’d two strong handles to turn it by, and several men stood ready by them to that end. Several priests, and some initiates, together with Sethos and Orpheus, were seated, on the right and on the left, by the sides of the wheel. As intrepid as Saphon was, he could not forbear asking the chief priest of the expiation, the only priest that was with him, what was to be the nature of his punishment, that he might prepare for it? The priest answer’d him, that he had some reason to call the purifications he was going thro’, a punishment; but however, that if he could bear the simple agitations of his body, and above all, would not suffer himself to be overcome by a fear (which they ought not to suspect in him) he would come out of them as sound as he went in. They made him swallow some drops of a strengthening liquor; after which, they tuck’d up his hair under a cap of incombustible linnen: they next stript him stark-naked, and laid him upon a sheet on the ground, stretch’d out at length: There, he who held the cord ty’d his two wrists cross one another, and stretching out his arms to their full length, he bound his feet together with the same cord, leaving as much rope as was necessary to go from the wrists to the feet, without hurting the natural situation of his body. All this was done with a wonderful quickness and sleight of hand, and without giving him the least reason of complaint. In this condition six men lifted him up, and desiring him to close his mouth and eyes, plung’d him over head and ears into the brass vessel, which was fill’d with a dissolution of garlick, saffron, oil of worms, and other ingredients; which, when mix’d, had the infallible virtue of resisting the force of fire[60]. These officers took care, during the short time they held the patient plung’d in the vessel, to shift their hands continually, that every part of his body might be ting’d with the liquor. Immediately afterwards, they laid him on the bed of red-hot iron: and the property of the ointment was such, that it made the body slide rapidly from it, and fall in an instant into the water; where were officers naked, ready to receive him, that he might not strike against the banks which were shelving; and others plung’d in and follow’d him, that he might not touch the bottom. In the mean time, the wheel, to which the rope was fasten’d, turn’d round with a regular motion, to draw the patient over in such a space of time that he might not be suffocated by the water. He came out feet foremost; and being drawn to the wheel, with his head hanging downwards, he was fasten’d to it by leather straps under his armpits; and in this condition the wheel was turn’d three times quite round with him upon it. From this, Orpheus took his idea of the fable of Ixion. He was then loosen’d from the wheel; and being laid on a bed, was carry’d into an upper chamber, where the priests, who were physicians, gave him all sorts of restoratives that might be necessary for the relief of his body or mind. However, he was afterwards carry’d back again into his prison, where he was to lie the following night. By this description we see that the three parts of corporal atonement for criminals, answer’d exactly to the three trials of the purification of the body preparative to the initiation: but there was this difference, that these trials of candidates for the initiation were voluntary; whereas criminals, being always bound, were forc’d by the hands of others to undergo their punishments. There were, indeed, atonements of a more moderate nature for crimes less atrocious than murder.

[60] Erant ex Ægyptiis qui faciem certis inunctam succis in ahena ferventia citra noxam immergerent. Epiph. ad finem panarii seu librorum adv. hæreses.

The third day, before sun-rise, the preparations for the expiatory sacrifice were begun. I shall not give the particulars of a ceremony, which lasted almost a whole day; I shall only observe, that it consisted of two principal parts, both of which were perform’d in the temple; but the former, with the gates shut. In this it was they undertook to appease Typhon, the mischievous genius or deity, which the Egyptians look’d upon as the instigator of all the crimes of men, and the author of all their evils. From thence Zoroaster, and the sages of Persia, took their evil genius Arimanus, who was always the opposer of Orimasus their universal benefactor; the Greeks, their Apopompean and Apotropean deities in opposition to Jupiter Olympus; and the Latins, their Averrunci, opposites to their assisting Jupiter, (_Jovi juvanti_). In Egypt their custom was, on this occasion, to lead a red bullock (of which colour they suppos’d Typhon to have been) into the hinder part of the sanctuary. The priest, chief of the expiations, laid his hand on the head of the victim, and pronounc’d these words, of which part are related by Herodotus[61]: “May the guilt of the criminal here present, with all the unhappy consequences which it ought justly to draw upon him, his family and country, pass into this animal, which we sacrifice to thee, O Typhon! as a representation of the death of him who is the object of your hatred.” In that instant the bullock was knock’d down by a blow between the horns; and the priest having cut his throat, sprinkled the criminal, who was yet cloathed in sackcloth, with his blood. But whereas in other sacrifices, the priests, and even those who made the offering, divided and carry’d away the victim in pieces for food; every part of the expiatory victim was cast out into the fields.

[61] Lib. 2.

They next endeavour’d to appease the manes of the dead. Those who came thither to obtain the expiation, found round about the temple sellers of images of men and women, of ordinary workmanship, and always plac’d upon little pedestals. They were of gold, silver, or brass; and their height from three to twelve inches. They were made use of in this ceremony to represent indifferently the person, or sometimes even the deity offended. The sellers put those who demanded admittance to the expiation in mind to take one in with them, of matter and height proportion’d to their circumstances. Saphon, before he enter’d, had not been wanting to choose one of gold of the largest size; which he was to leave in the temple for a retribution according to custom. The priest having set it before him on a table, to represent Giscon, pronounc’d his encomiums in the name of the guilty, who was always suppos’d to confess the good qualities of the person he had murder’d. In this elogy, which was prepar’d the evening before, and written at length in their ritual, the priest read several particulars of the life of the deceas’d, which he knew by other means than by the confession of the criminal, and at which he was often astonish’d. By practices of this kind, manag’d with a great deal of cunning, the priests had acquir’d the fame of having secret knowledge, and heavenly revelations.

To conclude; they purify’d the air round about the criminal, by means of a suffumigation compos’d of sixteen drugs (a cubick number.) Plutarch has preserv’d a list of them in his treatise of Isis and Osiris; and the receipt of it is yet found in our dispensaries, under the name of Trochisk of Cyphi[62]. All this being perform’d, he was put into a bath; at his going out of which, he was cloath’d with the habit he had on when he came into the college. They then presented as well to him as to the priests and initiates, among whom was Sethos, bread and wine; which they eat and drank on the spot in silence. After this he was conducted thro’ the outward passages of the sanctuary into the nave of the church; but he was as yet guarded by officers of the second order. Then the children of the priests enter’d, either to wait at the altar, or to perform the chorus’s of musick. The gates of the temple were open’d, and the high-priest offer’d, in the front of the sanctuary, that sacrifice to the propitious deities, which they call’d pacifick, and in which they offer’d a white lamb.

[62] Marsh. p. 203.

Before the gates of the temple were open’d, Sethos, who was not yet to be seen, was gone up into his seat; and after all the ceremony was over, the Carthaginian, (who was to fast this third day till after sunset, which was not yet approaching) was led away.

The moment they all went out of the temple, thro’ the end of the sanctuary, to return to the college, news was brought the high-priest, that there was a candidate in the subterraneous temple, who without doubt would soon appear. The high-priest and his companions, who were yet together, plac’d themselves in order behind the triple statue. Quickly afterwards they heard the noise of the wheels inclos’d within the pedestal; and the priests saw a man come out, who was not arm’d with a helmet and cuirass, like Saphon, but who otherwise had as perfect a resemblance of him, as could be between two twin-brothers. The high-priest congratulating him, as customary, on his address and valour, ventur’d to call him Giscon; which surpriz’d him extreamly. But having afterwards made him kneel down, and having pronounc’d over him that form of words, in which they call’d him, New Votary of the great goddess Isis; the candidate arose, and said, “Venerable priests of Memphis, I shall not conceal from you either my condition or fortune; and I plainly see, by the knowledge you have of my name, it would be to no purpose to do it: but I myself must confess, that if you judge of me by the disadvantageous opinion the world has of me, I am unworthy to be the servant of your goddess. I am, indeed, Giscon, that unfortunate Carthaginian, proscrib’d by my fellow-citizens, and banish’d by the Capsans. The first make me criminal for commanding an army against my country; and the second, for refusing to bear arms against it. The Carthaginians believe my death certain, and look upon it as a punishment for a battle I had no concern in; and the Capsans, a vagabond people, of whom I have form’d a republick, already renown’d, have banish’d me, as a man who has refus’d to encounter with their greatest enemies, the Carthaginians.” Here the high-priest interrupted him, and said, “Giscon, we already know the greater part of your history. We have approv’d of the beginning of it, and have condemn’d the conclusion, in the manner we have been inform’d of it: But your innocence is now confirm’d to us by seeing you alive. That, however, is not sufficient: Saphon, your brother, who is actually in this house, and on whom we have just finish’d the ceremonies of atonement, which your senate enjoin’d him to seek here for your suppos’d death, must be a witness of it. By that we make a considerable breach in our rule, that no candidate is allow’d to discourse with any prophane person, till the course of his exercises be finish’d. But as it is the duty of a good man to clear himself as soon as possible from crimes laid to his charge, it is ours to facilitate the means of it. Your brother, in carrying your justification before you to Carthage, will carry at the same time his own; and after having been purify’d here before the gods for his unjust and wicked intention, he will clear himself, in the sight of your father, your senate, and your people, from the ever odious name of murderer of his own brother.” The high-priest first made Giscon drink the cup of oblivion; and while he was drinking it, pronounc’d the usual form of words: but he added, that while he was relating to his brother, in their presence, what he did during the battle; how the person who was kill’d instead of him came by his and finally, why, when banish’d by the Capsans, he came into Egypt; he should be very careful not to make any mention of those first trials of the initiation which he had gone thro’; of the opening of the pyramid thro’ which he enter’d; or of that of the pedestal of the triple statue of Osiris, Isis, and Horus, thro’ which he now came thither. After which, the high-priest made a sign to have Saphon sent for.

Giscon had time enough, before his brother came, to tell the high-priest, that he had always had an ardent desire of being made an initiate at Memphis, and to receive of him and his companions those precepts and examples of virtue which made them esteem’d thro’ the whole world; but that since his misfortunes, he could hardly pretend to a title so honourable, or to burthen a body of men, whose reputation was so precious, with a man every where regarded as a criminal. However, continu’d he, reflecting at the same time, that the gods are the refuge of the unhappy, and that persecuted innocence finds a sure sanctuary in them; What more favourable opportunity could I have of offering myself to them, than my exile itself? and what more pressing reason to devote myself intirely to their service, than the state I was reduc’d to by injustice and ingratitude, of being no farther serviceable to mankind, unknown, and fearful of being known? I travers’d Ciniphi, Tripolitania, the country of the Nasamones, and the desarts of Marmorica: In Libya I pass’d by the temple of Jupiter Ammon, which I saluted at a distance, without daring to approach it. I knew at Carthage, and from the very time I first aspir’d to the initiation, that the opening of the pyramid was the way to it, without, however, knowing that it led into this holy temple. But I had heard mention made of the dreadful inscription at the bottom of the well; and of the perilous purifications of the body, which were previous to the preparations of the mind. I resolv’d, when I left Capsa, to undergo the danger of the former, without any farther pretence to the latter; or at least, to give a sincere relation of my name and circumstances to the holy priests, who were to receive me. At my arrival, yesterday evening, in the borough, nearest the pyramid, my host, whom I only made acquainted with the desire I had of visiting it, made me a present of a lamp, which he told me was proper for my design. I departed at sun-rising; and being about two hours afterwards at the foot of the pyramid, I ascended it with a resolution of perishing, if the disgrace I labour’d under, with regard to man, was an effect of the wrath of the gods themselves; and abandoning my justification to time, the discoverer of all things. But what shall I say? My indifference, with regard to death, strengthen’d me against it, and has led me to you, O most holy priests of Isis, ready to submit to the lot you may judge me worthy of upon my own confession. The high-priest answer’d; Giscon, the thoughts of the gods are not conformable to those of men; and we ourselves shall better judge of your past conduct by the account you are going to give of it in the presence of your brother.

Upon that Saphon came in; but it is impossible to express the confusion which arose in his mind, at the first sight of his brother. He was not long in reflecting how he came into the hinder part of the sanctuary, from whence he himself was but just departed: but he now first conceiv’d, that another besides his brother might have worn Carthaginian armour in the battle. Asham’d of his error, which he perceiv’d was very palpable, he had a violent suspicion that the priests themselves had had Giscon with them several days, and made a secret of it to him, to make him undergo the horrible fatigues of the atonement, for a crime of which he had rashly and falsely accus’d himself. He remember’d, at the same time, the instructions he had so lately receiv’d from a master hardly come to man’s estate, who had destroy’d the pretended heroism of his exploits, and had shewn him, that valour, his favourite virtue, had till then been in him only a blind and pernicious passion. He saw this brother living, who was pronounc’d a greater hero than himself, even at a time when he was thought dead as a criminal. In a word, he found himself plung’d into an humiliation, against which he could find no remedy in his mind. Happily for him to recover his surprize, his brother Giscon was to speak first; and he thus began his discourse:

Brother, these venerable priests enjoin me to appear before your eyes this very moment, to justify us both; myself for having commanded an army of Capsans against the Carthaginians; and you for having imbrued your hands in my blood. However ardently I pursued my design of forming the republick of the Capsans, and whatever diligence I us’d to put them into a state of defence against the assaults of their neighbours; I had declar’d to them, that tho’ I was ready to sacrifice my life for them against all their other enemies, I would never take up arms against my country. I did not even scruple to tell them, that I was only theirs for a time, and that after having executed the design I had conceiv’d so much to their advantage, as well my person as my services were devoted to my father and my country. I had given them this notice in time, to remove any suspicion that might arise of my having united them only with a design to deliver their whole nation with greater ease into the hands of the Carthaginians. Notwithstanding all this caution I had taken, as soon as they were advis’d of your march towards Capsa, they gave me to understand in their council of war, that they should esteem me as a coward or a traytor, if I did not take the command of their army against you. I answer’d, That I forgave these their injurious terms, the remains of their former ferocity, but that I was led by maxims superior to theirs; that no human constraint should ever make me depart from a resolution which I had not taken till after having maturely consulted the laws of justice and honour. I even added, that tho’ I was oblig’d to them for the confidence they had plac’d in me, in which they were not deceiv’d, if they kept within the bounds I had prescrib’d them, they acted contrary to common prudence in pressing me to accept of the command of an army, which I should lead but by force, if I were capable of yielding to their desires. That thus, all I could advise them to, was to inform you by heralds of the equity of their pretensions, and the injustice of your assaulting them: But I oblig’d them, for the maintenance of their own sovereign authority, to enjoin those heralds to speak in their name, and not in mine; and above all, that they should inform you in express terms, that as I had not accepted of any office among them, it would not be with me you were to engage in battle. I know all this was faithfully related to you; and by this you might at least have suspected I was not that commander you kill’d. In the mean time the Capsans, full of indignation at your answer, immediately nam’d for their general the person I had recommended to them as the most proper amongst them for their chief after my retreat, the first to whom I had communicated the design I had of uniting them, and who had been my chief instrument in that undertaking. They moreover stript me of my armour, and put it on him, to deceive you, and, against my will, to make me liable to the suspicion and appearance of being concern’d in an action in which in reality I had no part. They immediately pass’d the mountains which separate them from the dominions of Carthage, and they affected to lay waste on their side a greater spot of ground than was necessary to inclose their army. The manner of the battle you are better acquainted with than I who was not in it: But the Capsans who, in defending their own country with all the resolution of a new-form’d republick, had lost but very few of their people, return’d to their city, where they kept me strictly guarded. There they elected in my presence, and without consulting me, a new general; to whom, however, I should have given my vote. After which, they enjoin’d me, by a decree in form, to depart their dominions, without offering me any thanks for the past, or indeed any other insult for the present.

It would have been natural for me to return to Carthage; and by shewing myself there, to justify the only thing which could be imputed to me as a crime, during the two years of my absence. But I had been inform’d, as well by your answer to the heralds, as by other means, that you had, as well in your army as throughout the whole nation, cast a blemish upon the enterprize I had just succeeded in, of giving laws and manners to the Capsans. Reason made me first conceive, and experience has confirm’d it to me, that this was the only expedient which would free us from these rovers, who never invaded us but in separate troops, whom ’twas impossible for me to rencounter in their own territories, and from whom we had even nothing to fear, but by their being dispers’d. This thought had long revolv’d in my mind, and the choice our father had left us of our expeditions, when he engag’d to declare him his successor, who should perform the most heroick action, gave me an opportunity of putting it in execution. But having no design to dispute a right, which was yours by birth, I left to you those glorious advantages which you might render our empire by the fame of your arms, and went to seek at a distance an obscure service, very dangerous in its execution, and very doubtful in its success. I must confess, however, I did not expect you would have imputed to me as a crime an expedition actually accomplish’d to the benefit of our country, and of which it had already gather’d the fruits in the security of its highways, and the tranquillity in its plains. I thought it my duty to let the storm of persecution you had rais’d against me, pass over; and I would not oppose the proscription you had drawn upon me from our senate, tho’ chiefly grounded upon the false supposition of my having been in the battle, and of my death; and I very well know my father was, in some measure, persuaded of my innocence; and that the senate had not condemn’d me but with regret. But I am come into Egypt, to lay myself at the feet of these holy priests, as the source of all justice; persuaded, that a decision from this sacred tribunal, will re-establish my blemish’d honour more securely, than an inconsiderate return could have done. I have even no farther desire of returning to Carthage, after what has happen’d; and it shan’t be my fault, if I don’t end my days in this holy temple.

The high-priest, then beginning to speak, said; Saphon, before you answer your brother what you may think proper, and that you may have occasion to speak but once, I myself will put a conclusion to his discourse, by telling you, That not only his conduct has been unblameable from the first to the last step of his expedition, but he has fully gain’d the advantage of you in having perform’d the most heroick action. He has, however, no right to the prize your father had set upon it. Whatever motive the wise Zoros may have had, the gods, more prudent and mighty than he, have brought matters to their true period, and have drawn even from the error of your senate, the just sentence they have pronounc’d, by securing to you the succession to your father. Giscon, as you have heard, gives his consent to it; and he could not oppose it, without losing before the gods and men, the glory of those great works he has hitherto perform’d. We don’t, however, approve of the resolution he seems to have brought with him hither, of renouncing the service of his country. The gods, who have no need of us, look upon the services we do to men, who are the work of their hands, as the surest mark of our piety towards them; and a perpetual retirement is only commendable in those who never could, or can no longer be of service to other men. It is true, the instructions we may go in search of, or our meditations at different times, and especially under misfortunes, contribute greatly to our perfection, and render us more useful for the future. And thus your brother ought to be thankful to the gods for the mischance which has led him hither, to receive the initiation, to which we are going to prepare him: But as soon as he is made partaker of it, we ourselves shall send him to Carthage, that he may there continue to serve his country under your illustrious father, during the remainder of his old age; and under you, when you shall be invested with his dignity.

Saphon, then lifting up his eyes and his hands to the triple statue, said; Isis, great goddess of the Egyptians, I at last yield to your wisdom. I for ever disclaim my blind projects, and vain exploits; and am too happy that even my transgression has been imaginary. I accept with an entire submission, and a profound gratitude, those instructions which I have receiv’d from your holy ministers, and from the youngest of your disciples. They have all been confirm’d and justify’d by every circumstance of this adventure, which is visibly a work of divine providence. My dear brother, I am going to prepare the way for your return to Carthage, by the most authentick justification of your actions which I shall be capable of giving. The testimony of these holy priests will be without doubt more respected; but it shall neither be more faithful, nor so ready as mine. The high-priest made a sign to Giscon to go to his brother; and they embrac’d with all imaginable tenderness. Saphon was once more led into his apartment; and as the setting sun began to quit the horizon, he there found a handsome but frugal repast, and a vase fill’d with excellent wine. It was left to his choice, either to go out that evening, or to take his repose there in the bed he saw prepar’d. But Saphon, after having accepted of the refreshment set before him, and being inform’d that his servants attended without, express’d his gratitude in a polite manner to the priests who bore him company, and who waited on him to the gate of their college.

With regard to Giscon, as his exercises were not to commence till the next day, he was conducted into the same apartment Sethos had, till then, possess’d; but from whence he was that day to remove into those destin’d for the initiates, who had always lodgings in the colleges of the priests; in which, if they thought fit, they were allow’d to spend their days. Antient history gives us examples of kings, who were initiates; and who having, either by reason of their age or infirmities, given up the cares of government to worthy successors, had desired no other retirement.

All the initiates were allow’d this first evening to see the candidate, for whom a great entertainment was prepar’d, but none eat with him. The priests, who had carry’d Sethos thither, engag’d him to relate to Giscon all that had pass’d with regard to his brother, and even the part he had had in the instructions which had been given him. This recital inspir’d the Carthaginian with an extraordinary respect for this young prince; who, for his part, had before conceiv’d a very high esteem for this stranger, whose eminent virtue might have done honour to Egypt itself. And thus they cemented those bonds of solid friendship, which will prove of such assistance to Giscon, to deliver him from misfortunes which a fatal passion will plunge him into in the sequel of this history.

Before Sethos was led into the Carthaginian’s apartment, they made him break his fast with a regulated quantity of wholsome and succulent food, and a little wine. But as this fast had been of long duration, and the austerity of it had been increasing for near three months, till it came to its extreme; the priests, who were physicians, were to preside at all his meals for the twelve following days, to bring him by degrees to his usual way of living. These twelve days were allotted for the manifestation, the third and last part of the initiation, which was rather a recompence for the exercises that had preceded, than any exercise in itself. Human curiosity was here fully satisfy’d, by a discovery of the sacred mysteries, and other secrets of the Egyptian priesthood: and in imitation of the greatest travellers upon earth, the initiates, visiting the subterraneous dwellings of Egypt, travell’d, as it were, into another world.

The first of these twelve days, at the dawn of day, the candidate was led to the triple statue; and being made to kneel before it, the high-priest consecrated him first to Isis; who by the wisdom she had inspir’d him with, had render’d him worthy of being admitted to a revelation of her mysteries: Secondly, to Osiris, the benefactor of mankind; to the service of whom he had, in imitation of his great example, devoted himself: And lastly, to Horus, the god of silence, and of the secret to which he was going to bind himself. They then immediately caus’d him to read the form of a terrifying oath. He swore never to divulge to any prophane person the least of what he was to see in these twelve days, or at any other time, in the subterranean temples of Egypt; submitting himself, if he violated this secret, to the vengeance of all the deities of heaven, earth, and hell; declaring himself, in this case, guilty of death, and subscribing before hand to the execution of this sentence, which they look’d upon as pronounc’d. It is certain, that the bare observation of their religious secrets gave the initiates, as well as the priests, a fund of wisdom and discretion, for which they were reverenc’d, and which procur’d them, as well from princes as private persons, an entire confidence of secrets in every kind. They however recommended, not only to initiates, but to young priests and officers of the second order, not to affect that reserv’d air, which serves only to excite in others a useless curiosity, and which, in some measure, discovers the secret they are solicitous to keep. Thus they accustom’d themselves to a certain affability, which did not give room to the greater part of mankind to suspect they knew more than they said.

They then open’d to Sethos the subterraneous passages, which extended in a square from the sanctuary of the temple to the pyramid; that is, in length and breadth, about four thousand paces, and which consequently corresponded with the superiour temples of some little towns dependant on Memphis. But, according to custom, they gave him, as a guide, the last admitted Egyptian initiate, who happen’d to be in the house; because, in fact, the priests, who were in a measure reserv’d even to initiates, suffer’d them barely to see, but did not explain to them, till after a considerable time, the ceremonies or secret transactions they had seen. But the initiate, who conducted him, was allow’d to communicate his conjectures, which generally did not go far.

I might here properly enough make an invocation like that of poets, who undertake to give a description of hell. That I may be allow’d to reveal those things which I have learnt, and to bring to light what has been done in the bowels of the earth, and under the impenetrable veil of a profound silence. Sethos was no sooner descended into these subterraneous mansions from the superiour temple, than he was extremely astonish’d to hear the cries of children. Orpheus, who was as much surpriz’d at it as he, since feign’d, That those children that dy’d at the breast, were plac’d at the entrance into hell. But these were the children of the priests, whose mothers were always sent to lie-in in the apartments which were there prepar’d for them. The reason of this practice was, to accustom the constitutions of these children, from the very moment of their birth, to these subterraneous habitations, in which they were to pass a great part of their life. And besides, they would not suffer any sort of noise or disturbance, nor even any paternal frailty to interrupt the priests in their meditations and studies; and they were taught to look upon their children from that instant, as appertaining to the sacerdotal college, and not to them. Hence it was Lycurgus took his plan and motive for the publick education of the Spartans. The Egyptian priestesses suckled their children themselves, if the state of their health allow’d it; or else the wives of the officers of the second order serv’d them for nurses. These apartments the initiate only saw at the door, and for an instant. The priests, who were physicians, were alone permitted to go in, and they directed the oeconomy of them. The women and children were treated with a great deal of indulgence; for tho’ the latter were destin’d to employs, some of which were very laborious, the Egyptians believ’d nature must be left to fortify itself, before they exacted any thing from it: but at the age of five years, these children went into the common halls, design’d for the most early instruction of youth, where they had masters who taught them to read and to write the vulgar or prophane letters[63]. They frequented these halls three years; from whence, however, they return’d every noon and evening to their mothers. Till then, the children of both sexes and orders had their education together, were kept within sight, and even watch’d in the night-time. But at eight years, they were separated according to the two orders; the first of which was, of those who by birth were allotted to the exercises of the mind; and the other of those whose business was the work of their hands. The males were likewise separated from the females, and the sons of the priests one from the other, according to the different studies they were to follow, with a view to the different functions and professions of the sacerdotal families. These differences form’d however but four classes or schools: 1. Sacred or hieroglyphick literature, for those who were to succeed the priests employ’d in publick and private instructions on religion and morality. 2. Jurisprudence; from whence were taken those priests who were counsellors and judges in the cities. 3. Experimental physick, where the priests, who were to practise physick, had their education. And 4. Mathematicks, for those who were to profess any part of them. From that time they were likewise distinguish’d, both boys and girls, by their robes of four different colours, such as the priests wore under their tunicks of fine linnen in the publick exercises of their separate professions, or in the Isiack pomps and processions. These four colours were black for the first class; red for the second; violet for the third, and blue for the fourth. The education of these children was in general very rigid, because they were ty’d down to an extreme regularity, and were to be brought up to the highest perfection. But their masters, who themselves were supervis’d by attentive superiors, were never more severe one than the other; and the young disciples, knowing upon what principles their founders acted, did not think themselves unhappy.

[63] Vid. Clem. Alex. Strom. lib. 5.

Besides this, there was every day, about noon, a publick school, which they call’d, The School of Language. Even the daughters of the priests, who were kept in a subterranean apartment till the age of sixteen, under the government of the eldest and wisest of the priestesses, frequented these schools. There it was they were taught the rudiments and pronunciation, both simple and declamatory, of the Egyptian tongue. Advancing from year to year, they went thro’ every species of eloquence and poetry; and they made the application of them either in the composition of history, or the expounding of the several duties of life, or the description of the human passions. The studies of these young persons were farther diversify’d by their sacred exercises to which they were accustom’d, and in which they were employ’d from that time; the boys alone in the superior temple, and both the boys and girls in the subterraneous; but preferable to every study: those who had a disposition to it, were kept close to musick, even tho’ they neglected other exercises for which they had less inclination. It won’t be amiss to observe in general, that in consideration of the great numbers of ceremonial or œconomical functions in which the priests were to be employ’d, they oblig’d none to persevere in the sciences but those who were proper for them; and that these were also afterwards more frequently than others dispens’d from their usual assiduities or exterior attendances.

The period of every one of these schools was of ten years, and they had each ten professors, who succeeded one another, to receive every year those new scholars which were presented, whilst the others prosecuted and finish’d their course. The new initiate spent the first time a quarter of an hour in every one of these schools. They were always very full, because they were only kept in the twelve antient temples, and the priests of the towns dependant upon them, were oblig’d to send their children to the chief temple, that their education might be uniform. But we are not to believe that they were all sent back again to the towns from whence they came, as all the children born at Memphis had not therefore their establishment there. The high-priest and his counsel, wholly attentive to the reputation of the priesthood, plac’d them according to their talents, with a view, to the different importance of the temples they were to officiate in, and they were chang’d as occasion requir’d. Memphis had the choice of the whole sacerdotal nome for religion and the sciences; but by the subterraneous communication, a whole nome was in some manner but one single house.

However, after the age of nine years all the children began, at times, to frequent the upper house, to accustom themselves to the exteriour air; on condition, however, that their mothers never suffer’d them to be seen in their apartments by any women from without, because they were not yet bound by the oath of secrecy, and provided there was no candidate in the house; for in this case they only came thither to assist at the sacrifices in the sanctuary. This had more than once surpriz’d Sethos, who, during the time of his preparation, saw these children go and come, but could not guess whence they came, or whither they return’d. To conclude, at the age of eighteen the priests marry’d them to their daughters of sixteen, as they judg’d most convenient; and after taking the oath of secrecy, to which their wives were likewise bound, they were added to the sacerdotal college, and were lodg’d in the superiour houses; being however oblig’d to officiate in their turns in the subterranean: And then, though they were always oblig’d to follow the destiny of their family, and particularly, never to appear abroad but upon that footing; they were allow’d to study in private the other sciences, being persuaded that they were all dependant upon one another in some parts, and that there was no possessing any, without having some small tincture of several others. They never spoke, however, publickly, nor even to candidates; nor did they go to court or appear in the world till seven years afterwards; and till they had receiv’d all the instructions necessary to behave themselves in such manner as might be an honour to their body; provided even then, that their superiors judg’d them persons to be confided in.

The officers of the second order, of whom we must now speak, form’d, with their wives, a numerous body of subaltern ministers, for the ceremonies of religion; domesticks for the priests or priestesses in the superior dwellings, or for their children in the subterraneous; and lastly, of workmen of every kind for their persons, houses and temples. As no stranger came in among them, the inward reparations and ornaments could be made by none but these officers, and the priests wore nothing about them that was the work of prophane hands. The priestesses were always distinguish’d from other women by a tunick of fine linnen, which they wore upon a robe of the colour which shew’d the class their husbands belong’d to. But as they wore above the tunick a mantle of silk of what colour they pleas’d, embroider’d with gold, and dress’d their heads to their own mind, they were as magnificent as the Roman vestals have since been, without ever borrowing any thing from without. These workmen partaking of the same principles as their masters, were generally much more ingenious than those who work’d for the publick. But as they never wrought for any without-doors, their works serv’d as models, and excited emulation, without being the objects of envy and jealousy. All the mechanick arts, rang’d in order in these subterraneous habitations, form’d a long series of curiosities; which Sethos being then oblig’d to take but a slight view of, pleas’d himself with resolving to review again frequently. This subterranean city, which made two thirds of the whole square, had several streets, some larger, some less; and even squares, all equally illuminated with lamps. Since the first construction of these dwellings, they had contriv’d to pierce holes in several places quite thro’ to the surface of the earth; not, indeed, for the sake of light, for it wou’d never have been sufficient, but to receive a wholsome air into habitations fram’d by the priests, which the first founders never thought of. These openings, which all answer’d to some of the squares underneath, terminated at top in the form of a well, in the court-yards or gardens of sacerdotal houses; some of which had never been built but for that purpose: and they found them, in course of time, very convenient to let down provisions, and to draw up the most unwieldy of their works. There were likewise, for the convenience of men, round about the inward walls, several rows of steps like unto those we have describ’d in the well of the pyramid: but towards the west, the depth was so great, that they could discern the stars at noon-day, and even some of the planets in their greatest northern latitude. And the priests soon took advantage of this appearance, to observe at different hours the motions of the stars and planets to the meridian, through the narrow cleft of the lids which they sometimes caus’d to be put over these wells.

As the new initiate employ’d several days in taking this view, he came out to take his meals and his repose, in some of the superior houses which lay most conveniently in his way. The guide had them all given him in writing; and those whom he met, directed them in every place what they had to do.

Sethos came the fourth day to that place call’d, The Field of Tears (_Lugentes campi_.) It was an oblong, of the breadth of three acres, and the length of nine, encompass’d by four walks, in which terminated several other of the subterranean passages, and was cover’d by a very high vault. Here the officers of the second order were punish’d for any crimes committed, according to sentence given by three priests; and by different chastisements in proportion to the heinousness of them. The most common crimes, which were for having certain number of times fail’d in the punctual observance of their different employs, were punish’d by hard and unprofitable labour for a certain number of days or hours. The men, for example, one or more together, roll’d a cylinder of stone, bigger or less, according to their number, up a sort of hill rais’d across the eastern end of the field; and the cylinder rolling down on the other side, they rais’d it to the top again in the same manner till it roll’d back again to the same place from whence it came, and there they begun again. The women drew water from deep wells, to pour it into a canal of flowing water drawn from the canal of the initiation; and which, after having travers’d the chief of the subterraneous walks, border’d the east end of the Field of Tears. Here is easy to discover the origin of the rock of Sisyphus, and of the vessels of the Danaïdes in Orpheus. These men and women were naked to their girdle; but it was their own fault if they receiv’d any corporal punishment: and Sethos was very well pleas’d to find the overseers employ’d in moderating the eagerness of those who were undergoing their penitence. But faults more heinous were attended with pains really afflicting. Tho’ the priests and priestesses were liable to certain kinds of punishments, they were entirely hidden from the eyes of initiates, to preserve the honour of the priesthood; and from the secondary officers, to keep them within the bounds of that respect due to their superiors. This caution was never dispens’d with but in crimes of a scandalous nature, that had disturb’d the order of their house, or were publickly known. For such, they were condemn’d to one or more years of silence, which they were oblig’d to pass under-ground. Sethos saw several priests and priestesses, cloath’d in black, divested of the sacerdotal tunick, walking round the Field of Tears, and hiding their faces, or going into the prison which was on the side of it. There every one had his cell; but they had no conversation but with books, which were not refus’d them. To conclude; in case of violation of the secret, priests, initiates, and secondary officers were condemn’d to a punishment full of horror in its nature, tho’ it might be short enough. It was to rip up their bosoms and tear out their hearts; which were given to be devour’d by birds of prey. It was even forbidden the prophane to ask questions of any one whomsoever concerning the secrets of the priesthood; and if by an extraordinary accident they did surprize any, they were under penalty of death, ty’d down to the same secrecy as the priests themselves. But whole ages hardly furnish’d such an example; and it was only upon the idea they gave Orpheus of the punishment of a revealer of their secrets, that he invented that of Prometheus and Tityus: but he took the gigantick length, which he gave to the body of Tityus in his fable, who, according to him, being stretch’d out at length on the ground, cover’d nine acres, from the real length of this field.

Sethos advancing yet farther, came to an inchanted place call’d, The Elysian Fields. Here we must represent to ourselves a garden of about three quarters of a league in length from north to south, according to the situation of the pyramids, and of eight hundred paces broad from east to west. This breadth began the last third of the whole square, reckoning from the superior temple. Eight large parallel walks, which travers’d at equal distances the whole subterranean city, led to these Elysian fields, and began in some measure the garden, because they were adorn’d on both sides with great vases of flowers or fragrant shrubs. The priests, to embellish their Elysian fields, had employ’d whatever human invention, rais’d upon poetick ideas, could imagine. The light came from above to the whole extent of its superficies: but as it fell to the bottom from the height of one hundred and forty feet, it was something weaken’d; and the shadows of the trees, with which this garden was fill’d, weakening it yet more, at full day it seem’d but to enjoy the light of the moon. This situation has, perhaps, given some room for a description of the garden of the Hesperides, so as we read it in Scylax, the geographer. Those minds which have experimented great passions, know how far a light thus allay’d, is proper for gentle dreams. This it was that put Orpheus on giving the Elysian fields a peculiar sun and stars, tho’ they had no other light but from the sun and stars of our world. This immense opening was bounded at top, as the other, in an enclosure intirely wall’d round, which belong’d to the priests. The walls of these Elysian fields, which terminated on the south side in an oval, and were cut off in a strait line by a stately edifice on the north, seem’d to support the heavens on the entablature on the top of them. The oval end appear’d to be a prodigious water-work, which to the eye, deceiv’d by the height and distance of the object, seem’d to proceed out of the clouds; and which, after having form’d several large canals, was lost, like all the waters of these subterranean mansions, in the bowels of the earth: but besides all this, hidden pipes furnish’d water playing out in fountains in the midst of an infinite number of basons. This whole garden was divided into walks, groves, and labyrinths, adorn’d with excellent statues and fine groupes of brass, marble and porphyry. The beds of the parterre were long chests set into the ground, and fill’d with earth brought thither, in which grew not only the most beautiful flowers, but other ornamental plants, as myrtles, laurels, and orange-trees. In the middle of this whole spot of ground were mark’d out large spaces, which serv’d as areas or circus’s for divers exercises of the body; where not only the secondary officers, in several of whose functions a great activity was requir’d; but the children of the priests, both boys and girls, agreeable to their sex, were train’d up in them. Their first view in this, was to form and render the body active in general, as with other Egyptians. The fruits of this care was to draw a great number of people into their temples, by the exactitude and gracefulness with which they perform’d the numerous ceremonies of their religion. And in the common occurrences of life, tho’ the priests and priestesses were more reserv’d, and had more modesty in their behaviour than worldly people, there was observ’d a grace and an easiness in their posture and carriage, which the knowing often took for a model.

But they had a reason of much greater importance to them, to make their children expert in all those exercises which have since compos’d the art of serious representations among the Greeks and Romans. It was by means of theatrical scenes, that the priests of the principal temples of Egypt, and especially those of Heliopolis and Memphis, answer’d those questions which were propos’d to them concerning future and hidden things[64]. They look’d upon this manner of answering as less hazardous for them than the decisive oracles of Butos, or the astrological predictions of Thebes, and capable at the same time of causing more surprize in those who consulted them, and who fancy’d they saw the very thing in question. The greater part of the enchantments, related in fabulous history, were only such plays. These representations were perform’d at Memphis, in that building which form’d the northern extremity of the Elysian fields; and which, to attract the greater veneration, had the frontispiece of a temple. The priests of the first class, or those who apply’d themselves to sacred literature, presided over these plays, and their children were train’d up to them; tho’ among the other classes, they took both priests and priestesses who seem’d to have the greatest talent for these exercises, and they employ’d both men and women of the second order to serve at them. The priests, who were mathematicians, put in practice whatever experience had taught them in the mechanicks, for the probability of the material shew, and the motion of the machines introduc’d therein. The opticks were in every part observ’d with such nicety, that the senses were faithful while they gave false ideas; and the objects themselves could not have appear’d otherwise than their images seem’d to do, in the perspective of their theatre. We must likewise allow, that as they had no occasion for an entire amphitheatre, they plac’d the person, or few persons, they were to answer to at each time, in such a point of view as was an infallible illusion to their sight.

[64] The grounds of all this may be seen in the 11th chapter of Meursius’s Eleusinia. M. l’Abbe Banier likewise gives an explication of the enchantments practis’d in the temples of the antients, which comes up to this. Orig. des fables, tom. 3. p. 168.

But all this was nothing in comparison to the measures which the knowledge they had of the dispositions of the soul and body enabled them to take, to prepare their spectators for this illusion. They made them sometimes wait whole months; and during that time, they endeavour’d to get partly out of them, and partly by other means, those circumstances which were preliminary to the matter which gave them uneasiness; that they might compose their verses, and prepare the decorations of their scenes accordingly. They then receiv’d those who consulted them into the private apartments they had in the temple: And besides the mysterious ceremonies they perform’d before them there with the gates shut, they fed them for several days together with nothing but light food and delicious liquors, in which they mix’d soporiferous potions. At last they took up a great stone towards the bottom of the temple; and there they saw, by the favour of a gloomy and sparing light, an easy slanting passage, by which they were to descend. They were plac’d in a sort of car, which was only open before. The priest, who was chief of the divination, plac’d himself by them; and if they were women, they were accompany’d by a priestess, who was allotted them from the beginning, as a companion and adviser. This car, compleatly mounted upon low wheels, which were hidden, and making no noise, was push’d gently from behind down the easy descent, as if it went of itself, into one of the walks we mention’d above, which, in some measure, began the Elysian fields. The car was first set in motion, and continued in it by officers of the second order, who came, without being seen, out of doors of this subterraneous passage, and who were reliev’d by others from space to space. And thus it went on in an equal motion to the Elysian fields, at the entrance of which they alighted.

Tho’ this place serves for a daily walk to all the subterraneous inhabitants, yet when any such persons were expected, every thing was so order’d that they saw none but whom, at a distance, they took for heroes or heroins, wise men and virtuous women. The priest and priestess, who did not suffer them to be out of their sight, nam’d the chief of those whom they said had been beneficial to human society, either by their great services, or by wise instructions, or at least by good examples. They let them see at a greater distance vast crouds of those, who, tho’ their virtues had been bury’d in obscurity, had not been the less punctual in the observance of them during their lives; nor were they less rewarded for them after their death. The light fell equally upon all their faces, they were not, however, to be distinguish’d. Nearer were those who had subdued the greatest of human passions, love and anger; and next to them, those who had only given way to chaste and lawful love; or who had only follow’d the motives of a just anger against the wicked, for the benefit of the good, and the advantage even of the wicked themselves. All these possess’d the bottom of the Elysian fields, which was the most agreeable part. On the side of them, in the wings, were those who had done great actions, but had suffer’d them to be eclips’d by great and frequent frailties; or who, in the course of their glorious undertakings, had sometimes taken the counsels of their passions for the counsels of virtue. In another part, to conclude, were those whom love had never indeed prompted to commit a crime; but who, by means of this passion, had been render’d supine and backward in the practice of their duty, and for ever averted from the heroick course they had begun to pursue. The same restless spirit which had tortur’d them in their life, but above all, a regret for having in this manner travers’d their fate, follow’d them even in death. In vain the women they had lov’d, represented to them how satisfy’d they ought to be with the fame they had acquir’d: they had not that serenity in their countenances, which is the effect of accomplish’d virtue, and these women turn’d aside to weep. At these sights such persons thought themselves truly transported into the habitations of the other world, and believ’d none to be really alive but the priest and priestesses who accompany’d them.

They were next conducted to the theatre, which they were told was the temple of divination. At their entrance, a noble stair-case presented itself to their view; but thro’ the steps they perceiv’d, as in a great cavern, flames, which arose from a canal of spirituous and sulphurous waters, which they had set on fire. This canal, tho’ but narrow, by an effect of the opticks, seem’d to them a river of flames, of which Orpheus made his Phlegeton. Beyond the flames they saw men and women clad in skins, which fitted so close to their bodies, that they seem’d naked. Frightful figures of the Eumenides or Furies were continually scourging them: the vaults resounded with the reiterated blows, which however not giving any wounds, shew’d they met with bodies capable of sustaining eternal torments. These objects were shewn them as long as was thought proper, according to their character; and they even acquainted them with the causes of these different punishments, such as they generally might apply to themselves. They were at last brought to the front of the theatre, where the priest and priestess always seated themselves by them. There, besides the chorus’s, which, with the help of proper musick, represented in as lively, and in a more affecting manner than nature itself, either people or armies, according to the subject, the actors and actresses, by means of imperceptible masks, and other secrets of the Pantomime art, counterfeited the visages and voices of those persons the consulters were concern’d for.

Tho’ the priests did not give answer to every thing they were consulted about with so much ceremony; and these theatrical representations were in reality not perform’d above twice or thrice in a year; there were, however, every day general preparations or representations of scenes invented on feign’d subjects. The children of the priests regularly attended them. The priests and priestesses who actually officiated below, and even those of the superior mansions, came thither by turns, either to act parts, or to give their advice. Initiates were likewise admitted, and heard: and as they made trials of the effects of their decorations and musick, these rehearsals or proofs of shews were finer than the most finish’d pieces in the world. The Egyptian priests and priestesses had their places assign’d them in the latter, as among the Greeks and Romans since. It was surprizing enough to hear with how much judgment they gave their opinions of them; because even those who had receiv’d answers from them in this manner, believ’d they had seen apparitions, and not representations. I am the shorter in the description of this sacred anecdote, because we shall see an example of it at large in the last book, of which Sethos himself will be the object; but the consultation will be at Heliopolis, where the priests, as we have before hinted, were more expert in divination than those of Memphis.

I shan’t, however, quit this subject without removing an objection, which may arise in the minds of our readers, how the priests of Memphis, so enlighten’d, and so punctual in every article of morality, could thus deceive mankind. The key to this mystery is, that they themselves were seduc’d. It was a constant maxim amongst them, that divination was inherent to the priesthood. They prepossess’d their children with this opinion from their infancy, as they themselves had in like manner receiv’d it from their fathers. Their sacrifices, fastings and scourgings, preparatory to their answers, not in the presence of those who consulted them, but amongst themselves, sufficiently evince this truth. In like manner, all the measures they took besides to get information of facts, their assiduities, as well in their closets as private conferences, to endeavour to foresee future events, by the circumstances of times, places, and persons, were in their minds but so many natural means which they thought themselves oblig’d to make use of, lest they should tempt the gods, and by their temerity draw upon the priesthood the loss of so precious a gift. With an eye to the same precaution it was, that they were more or less precise in their answers, according to the inspirations they believ’d they had receiv’d. They did not, however, attempt to conceal the secret of this practice from their initiates. On the contrary, after having acquainted them with their principle, they were glad to get light from them on several questions they propos’d them, as from men who had more knowledge of the world than they themselves. As for their preparatives to work those who consulted them up to an illusion, or, as they call’d it, an extasy; they had another view in them, which they look’d upon as very commendable, with respect as well to them, as to other persons to whom they might relate their adventure. It was to inspire in them a love and fear of the gods; not only by a previous view of the Elysian fields, and of Tartarus, of which they let them have a glimpse, but by the great lessons, either given them in form, or cunningly insinuated in their scenes. Indeed, in course of time, when the practice of divination pass’d into Greece, or as it remain’d in Egypt, the intention of the diviners became exceedingly deprav’d: For, not to mention the palpable cheats of real impostors, only design’d to trick men of their money, and to corrupt the virtue of the women, the priests of some temples have had recourse to magick operations and horrid sorcery, which they thought a surer method to discover hidden causes than the invocation of the gods, or human and natural enquiries. But, in short, the result of all these considerations taken together, is this, that those of our Grecians who have attributed every kind of divination to deceit, have, in this point, had but a faint knowledge of mankind, and that the prepossession and enthusiasm of those who pretended to this gift has had a greater part in the error of divination, and has kept it up longer than fraud alone would have been capable of. However, as both these causes give equally place to truth, which becomes more and more manifested, divination loses ground daily; and we may, without being masters of that art, foretell its approaching and entire extinction. On the side of the Elysian fields, advancing towards the pyramids, was the last part of these subterraneous mansions, or the Pantheon of the priests of Memphis: On occasion of which I shall observe, that whole Egypt was call’d, The Pantheon of the Universe. Tho’ the whole extent of these subterranean habitations was in general call’d the temple, properly speaking, the pantheon alone deserv’d that name. The entrance to it was thro’ several very deep arches, plac’d behind the trees on the west-side of the Elysian fields. The roof of this temple was not extremely high, exceeding only by ten feet the height of the arches, which were of twenty feet: but tho’ the breadth was but of forty feet, the length was extraordinary, being equal to that of the Elysian fields, comprehending even the depth of the theatre. Less would not have been sufficient to contain all the deities of Egypt in separate chapels; nor was there a chapel allotted to every one: for the Egyptians ador’d, at least, the thirty thousand deities, of which Hesiod the poet tells us. The sanctuary of this temple was consecrated to Isis, the mother of nature, or nature herself. Her statue was there plac’d upon a pedestal, much the same as Apuleius, in his Metamorphosis, represents this goddess appearing to him in a dream. The foremost chapels on the right and on the left, contain’d each separate the image of one of the chief deities, which by the Romans, to whom Pythagoras brought them out of Egypt, were call’d _Cosentes_ or _Selecti_, q. d. counsellors of Jupiter, or chosen for his counsel[65].

[65] See Kirk, tom. 1. p. 174, 175.

Next to them came the demi-gods, call’d _Semons_ or _Medioximi_, half men, or middling deities. The images of these, as many of them as were known by name, were plac’d several together in the succeeding chapels. The last chapels continu’d to the line of the frontispiece of the theatre, and were appropriated to that infinite number of unknown deities, who, according to them, had their habitations neither in heaven nor hell, but were dispers’d in the air, upon the earth, and in the waters. They were represented by general figures, or such of which one serv’d for a whole kind. These idols were plac’d in their several chapels, with their faces all turning towards the bottom of the temple, as that of Isis was in the sanctuary: but the bottom of the temple, from the line of the frontispiece of the theatre to the wall at the end, thro’ which there was no entrance, was reserv’d for the mischievous gods, otherwise call’d evil genius’s. Typhon was represented standing, leaning with his back against the wall, and of the same height; his arms stretch’d out reach’d the walls on the right hand and on the left; near in the same manner as the statue of Serapis, the Pluto of the modern Egyptians, in his temple, which we now see at Alexandria[66]. But Typhon had the figure of a man only from his head down to his navel; he was represented with flames proceeding out of his eyes and mouth, and from the trunk of his body two enormous dragons, which supply’d the place of thighs and legs[67]. His fingers were vipers, agreeable to the description which Hesiod gives of Typheus, and Apollodorus of Typhon, which were the same. From the bottom of the temple to the line of the frontispiece of the theatre were twenty chapels on each side, in which were the images of the malign genius’s, which, like the figure of Typhon, fac’d the good deities, to shew their opposition to them. The walls and roof of the temple, as well as of the arches on each side, were adorn’d with hieroglyphicks, which contain’d the history, as well as an account of the worship, of the gods in the pantheon. Here were perform’d every night, from ten till two, several sorts of sacrifices and ceremonies; at which were present all the inhabitants of those lower mansions, even the prisoners of the Field of Tears, as well as those who had fail’d in the trials of the initiation, the priests and priestesses of the upper house, when they would, provided they did not neglect their common functions elsewhere, the greater part of the initiates, and the new initiate and his guide the three last days of the manifestation.

[66] See Kirk, tom. 1. pag. 199.

[67] See his fig. in Kirk, ibid. pag. 221.

As these nocturnal ceremonies began before the end of the natural day, they first offer’d their devotions to those divinities to whom the day was consecrated. Most of them had their peculiar victims; and they even knew the several sorts of wood which they were to use, either to burn the victim whole, or some parts of it[68]. The wood was set on fire, according to the different dignities of the gods; either by the sun-beams, brought thither by means of a parabolical glass, as the sacred fire of the vestals, or by the sparks from a flint struck by a steel; or lastly, by the flames of a lamp. The Greeks and Romans adopted these niceties, and carry’d them so far as to observe the difference of fountains from whence they drew the water to extinguish the fire with which the victim was consum’d. As in Egypt they have no other water but that of the Nile, they made use of that only in their sacrifices; but they fetch’d it every day out of the great channel of that river for the use of the pantheon. This, perhaps, gave occasion to those authors whom Diodorus follow’d, to say, that three hundred and twenty priests of Memphis brought every day water out of the Nile the distance of several furlongs.

[68] See for this whole account, Kirk, tom. 1. Syntag. 3. cap. 9. & 10.

Some of these deities had only sacrificing priests, and others none but priestesses. But at midnight the sacrificing priest for the day, follow’d by two lines of priests, came out of the last arch towards the bottom of the temple, on the side of the Elysian fields, and went into the sanctuary to the statue of Isis. They were accompany’d by a great chorus of musick form’d by other priests, priestesses, and even their children of both sexes, and of all ages from nine years upwards. When the sacrificing priest was come to the statue, the two lines of priests stopp’d, and made room for the offering which follow’d to pass betwixt them. And here the truth of the historical fact obliges me to say, that this offering was carry’d by priests daughters, to the number of eighteen, two and two, naked, and having each a basket of fruit, or other presents, according to the season. These girls began this office at thirteen, and continued it till their marriage. The sacrificing priest receiv’d and emptied all these baskets upon a great square altar, on the foot of which was this inscription; which being copy’d from the Egyptian upon a marble, is yet to be seen in a temple of Capua[69]. _Te, tibi, una, quæ es omnia, Dea Isis._ That is, We offer thee to thyself, thou only and universal deity, goddess Isis. The maidens who brought the offering, retired behind the sanctuary, and the priests went into it, to accomplish the ceremonies, which lasted near two hours, always accompany’d with the sound of voices and instruments. These ceremonies differ’d in the four seasons, as did the hymns, which were the subject of their musick; many of which were afterwards sung in the superior temple, and from thence came into the mouth of every Egyptian, for the beauty of their verses and tunes, which were sometimes heighten’d by novelty.

[69] See Kirk, tom. 1. pag. 188.

These were the mysteries of Isis; the secrecy of which made them so respected in the flourishing ages of Egypt; and which having been reveal’d during the confusion of wars, and the oppression of conquerors, have serv’d as an example or pretext for that licentiousness which has since spread itself over the temples of Greece and Italy. By all the memoirs that have come to my hands it plainly appears, that the priests and assistants in antient Egypt never made an ill use of what pass’d before their eyes in the Pantheon. Orpheus has express’d the discretion they were ty’d down to on this head by the awfulness of the place, under the image of Tantalus standing in the midst of water, but not being able to drink. Lycurgus, carrying his ideas yet farther, suppos’d that wisdom which reign’d in Egypt throughout the whole sacerdotal order, in which no instance has been known of any disorder arising from a passion for women, was owing to their seeing them in this manner naked every day. And this it was made him establish in his republick the luctations or wrestlings at which the youth of both sexes perform’d their exercises naked in the sight of the whole world. He said, the Lacedemonian women were deck’d in the circus by the publick modesty, from what he had heard the priests in Egypt say, that theirs were deck’d in the Pantheon with religious holiness. However, a long experience has convinc’d the wise of the truth of that sentence of the old Latin poet Ennius, who says, that nakedness expos’d to the eyes of the citizens, is the original source of all the disorders of a republick. _Flagitii principium est nudare inter cives corpora._ A very faint knowledge of the Greek and Roman history is sufficient to give us an idea of that shameful excess to which the first communication of the mysteries of Isis discover’d, carry’d those nations. The Egyptians themselves, fallen from their pristine austerity, had introduc’d into the temples, which they were allow’d to erect out of Egypt, and especially at Rome, such an extravagant licentiousness, that the senate made several decrees to abolish those temples they call’d Memphitick. Popular superstition, supported by a habitude rooted in debauchery, had render’d these decrees of no effect, till the consul Paulus Emilius himself took an ax, and began the demolition of them. These temples were re-establish’d under the dictatorship of Sylla, and destroy’d again by the consul C. Calpurnius Pison[70]. The emperors, successors of Augustus, rebuilt them, or pull’d them down, according as they prov’d enemies or fathers of their country; and the vigilance of that most holy and pious prince Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, who now governs the world with as much wisdom as glory, has enough to do to prevent these infamous practices from being restor’d every day in some part or other.

[70] See on this subject T. Liv. dec. tom. 1. 9.

Sethos, to omit nothing, enter’d, after the sacrifice of the last day of the manifestation, thro’ one of the western porches of the Pantheon into that walk, which ran along the bottoms of the pyramids; and having found the iron grates which bounded it on the northern side, he had the satisfaction of touching it on the inside, as he had done without, when he was with Amedes at the bottom of the well of the pyramid. By that, he in some manner bore testimony to himself, that he had happily accomplish’d the painful and perilous course of the initiation. He lay, however, that night, according to custom, in the subterranean mansions; while preparation was making against the next day for the magnificent procession, which they call’d, The great Isiack Pomp, or, The Triumph of the Initiate.

The evening before, six officers of the second order appear’d on horseback before the king’s palace, which, as we have already said, was opposite to the temple at the other end of the square: and there they proclaim’d by sound of trumpet, that the next day a new initiate would appear. They afterwards made the same proclamation in every street of the city thro’ which the procession was to pass. They did not mention the initiate’s name, but they declar’d him to be an Egyptian. For with regard to foreign initiates, the proclamation was only made at the gate of the temple; because the procession, which was not near so pompous, went only round it. This was always agreeable news to the kings, who believ’d they thereby gain’d a faithful servant upon all occasions. But it was yet a greater joy to the people, who look’d upon the Egyptian initiates as wise mediators between the king and them, and as powerful protectors about his person. As many years generally pass’d without their attaining so great an advantage, the rarity of it enhanced the value, and inspired every one with an earnest desire to see this ceremony. Upon this particular occasion the dispositions of the court were alter’d. They had then no suspicion there that the new initiate was Sethos. Every one thought him out of Memphis, and some even believ’d him out of Egypt: and besides, considering the corruption of manners, and meanness of sentiments in which the greater part of the courtiers were plung’d, they look’d back to the age of fables for those heroick times when kings or sons of kings were candidates for the initiation. Sesostris, who was initiated at Thebes, was the last king of Egypt, who had the ambition to aim at this dignity. And thus the queen, in imitation of those mothers who think they have taken great care of their children, when they forbid them all exercises that require resolution and courage, did not fail, when she heard the news, to observe to the ladies about her, that if she knew one of her sons should desire to be initiated, she would soon prevent it: and the judicious company was very much dispos’d to applaud her. As for the king, as he did not meddle with the affairs of state, and only employ’d his servants in his amusements; he was very little affected with the merit of the initiation, and propos’d to himself no other satisfaction in it, but the pleasure of seeing this pomp pass under the windows of the palace.

The whole night was employ’d in adorning the inside of the temple with whatever the priests had most magnificent in their treasury; and the citizens of Memphis prepar’d the streets, and embellish’d the outsides of their houses with their most precious moveables. A little after sun-rising, the temple was open’d to the people, and in the middle of the sanctuary they saw the tabernacle of Isis, which was brought up from the subterranean temple. It was a large coffer, cover’d with a veil of white silk, embroider’d with hieroglyphicks in gold, over which was a black gauze, to signify the secret of the mysteries of the goddess. Before the procession mov’d, they offer’d a sacrifice to her; during which, the daughters of the priests, who never appear’d abroad but on the festivals of Isis, danc’d, by turns, grave dances to the sound of instruments alone. Immediately afterwards the march began towards the city. The six officers, who had proclaim’d the ceremony, went first, sounding their trumpets from time to time; and two lines of guards of the same order march’d on each side of the procession, the whole length of it. Of the four classes of priests, the mathematicians, the physicians, and the lawyers went first, preceded by their children in the same order, and in the same habits as themselves. All the priests wore a black robe under a tunick of fine linnen; but over the tunick, the three first classes of the procession wore robes of blue, violet or red; of which one part cover’d their heads. Between the two lines march’d, one by one, priests, whom they call’d Pastophores: instead of robes, they had cloaks of the colour of their class; and they carry’d the books of Mercury, from whence they borrow’d their sciences[71].

[71] Clem. Alex. Strom. lib. 6.

After this first part of the procession, came a priest of the first class in a black cloak, who carry’d in both hands the famous Isiack table, resting upon his breast; it was of copper, but border’d and travers’d with plates of silver, upon which were engraven the emblems of the mysteries of Isis, represented by the figures of men and women, standing or sitting, and of which some had the heads of beasts[72]. He was follow’d by the daughters of the priests, clad in tunicks of fine linnen, over robes of the colour of their fathers class, and having over their tunicks a sort of scarfs, each of a different colour, embroider’d with gold, with golden tufts, and fasten’d on their left shoulders with a precious stone. They were dress’d in their hair with tufts of herons feathers, and adorn’d with ear-rings, necklaces of pearls, and bracelets of an inestimable value. They form’d four lines, and went arm by arm, two and two. The priestesses, who were governesses, went in the middle, cloath’d all in black, excepting their tunicks; and on the sides of these extraordinary beauties, which were but seldom seen, the guards were doubled. By the bare description of Apulieus, we find that even other women, who were initiated to Isis, since the devastation of Egypt, have taken the place of these damsels in such sorts of processions, at which even the other priestesses did not assist before. After these damsels, came a very great choir of musick, compos’d of priests and their children, who proclaim’d the approach of the tabernacle of Isis. It was carry’d on the shoulders of eight priests: but immediately preceding it, went maidens of the second order, clad in habits of white woollen, very fine, and adorn’d with flowers, who having citterns and tabors in their hands, danc’d before the tabernacle a sort of light dances; the imitation of which the Greeks have carry’d too far in their Orgies. Others of these maidens, who went on each side, burnt perfumes; the smoke of which surrounding the tabernacle, it seem’d to be always in a cloud. The high-priest walk’d alone after the tabernacle. He was cloath’d in white under his tunick; and over it with a purple robe lin’d with ermin; the train of which was carry’d by two children of the second order. He had a sort of mitre on, peculiar to him alone, and he only had the augural staff, which all other priests bore in his absence. He was follow’d by the priests of the first class, or interpreters of the sacred literature, whose books were likewise carry’d by Pastophores. Two among them carry’d a pole on their shoulders, upon which was plac’d the augural or divinitory urn; it was cover’d by an astrolable, a quadrant and a compass. For tho’ astrology was more in use at Thebes than in the other temples, astronomical instruments were every where the symbols of divination. All the priests of this class were cloath’d, under and above their white tunicks, in black. The antientest went nearest the tabernacle. So, contrary to the order of the three first classes, they were follow’d by their children, the two lines of which were clos’d by the four prefects of education. Here, properly speaking, the Isiack pomp ended. It was seen upon other occasions, but had never been so numerous, and so magnificent as on this.

[72] See Kirk. about this table; OEd. Ægypt. tom. 4. pag. 80. & seq. and the Ant. of F. Montfaucon, vol. 2. part 2. page 331.

The last part of the procession, or the triumph of the initiate, had a military appearance, even with regard to those who were not warriors; because it was suppos’d, that they defended their country in their way: and besides, the initiates were indifferently of every profession for the service of the king and of the publick. At the head of the second interval, appear’d, under the sound of fifes and kettle-drums, three standards flying. The first bore the symbol of the kingdom of Memphis, which was the Ox Apis; the second that of Egypt, which was a sphynx; and third that of the whole world, which was a serpent, biting his tail, in the form of a circle. This was to signify the order according to which the initiate devoted himself to the service of mankind. The initiates appear’d next; they were but few in number in every nome: and those who had any employs, either in war, or in the provinces, did not quit them to be at this ceremony. However, if there were any initiates of another nome, they had their places here according to the order of their reception, for all the initiates of Egypt made but one body. They march’d one by one in their usual habits, that is, in a vest of fine linnen which reach’d but to their knees, and which they never went without; and over their vest was the robe of their dignity or function: on the side of them, and out of the rank, went the foreign initiates, if there were any in Egypt: and thus it was that Orpheus assisted at the triumph of Sethos. According to this order it often happen’d that generals and even princes, who were younger in the initiation, gave place to mere citizens.

At last appear’d the new initiate, having at his right-hand the youngest of the priests, and at his left the eldest of the initiates. For this first day he was cloathed only in a white tunick, with a train trailing after him of the length of his body: Over it he had a shoulder-belt, white border’d with black, at which hung a sword; the hilt of which was only of steel: instead of a girdle, he had a fire-colour’d scarf, embroider’d with gold: He had a chaplet of myrtle on his head, and in his hand he held a large branch of palm, as the symbol of peace: His head was cover’d with a white veil, which fell over his face and breast, thro’ which he could see enough to walk by, but which hinder’d every body from knowing him. Behind him follow’d a triumphal chariot, drawn by four horses in front. Four virtues held a triumphal crown over the empty seat; and images of the vices enslav’d, border’d all the circumference of the footboard. This chariot was, excepting some symbols, like to that in which generals made their entries into the chief cities of Egypt, at their return from any signal victory. But the initiate never went into his; to shew that he did not aspire even to those exterior honours which his great actions might merit. In this ceremony the initiate had at all times been receiv’d with great acclamations of the people. But the extravagance and injustice of Daluca’s administration, made the hopes of some relief of yet greater concern to all the inhabitants of Memphis. Flowers and sweet essences were scatter’d in abundance on the initiate from the windows and streets. No musick was ever so affecting as the concert of benedictions they bestow’d upon him. It was for this reason, though the joy had been less at other times, that the initiate always went veil’d; that he might apply no part of these transports of publick affection to himself, and that he might, on the contrary, suppose they were only due to the high esteem had for a body, whose examples he was hereby taught to follow, and whose glory he was encourag’d to maintain.

Sethos, after having in this manner made a circuit of a great part of the city, came to the square, in which was the king’s palace. The king, the queen, and a croud of courtiers waited their coming, in a long balcony, adorn’d with rich tapestry. Osoroth, who by nature was good, seem’d to take part in these rejoicings, as the acclamations proclaim’d their approach. As far as he could see the last division of this pomp, and above all, when he discover’d the head of the initiate, which was at least equal to the tallest, he felt a soft commotion, which immediately rais’d in the queen, who was an enemy to all good, a very lively jealousy: But her confusion was sensibly increas’d, when the initiate ascended a high scaffold, erected according to custom, before the balcony of the palace. Here he kneel’d down on a cushion, and made a profound reverence to the king. Then rising, he drew his sword, as offering it for his service. At this action, which the young prince perform’d with a wonderful grandeur and noble air, Osoroth, almost with tears in his eyes, stoop’d, and stretch’d out his arms as to embrace this initiate. He then turn’d to the right and to the left, to inspire every one with that tender admiration with which he himself was pierc’d. The people, encourag’d by this example, vented thousands of joyful acclamations address’d to the king. They wish’d him to be their master, and to continue so during a long course of life. At the same time they fix’d their eyes upon the queen in a manner, which tho’ no otherwise insulting, than in their secret intentions, she however perfectly comprehended. This lady, who, in compliance to the king, was oblig’d to conceal that real rage, which gnawed her very soul, under a forc’d smile, was for a long time the object, not only of the people, but even of the courtiers, who detested her, tho’ they were become her slaves. But her disorder was yet infinitely greater, when the initiate was gone down from the scaffold, and return’d to the temple, holding in one hand his naked sword, and in the other his branch of palm crossing one another. For the king took this occasion to ask the queen after his son, who, he said, had the same shape and gaite as the initiate. He added, that he wish’d it had been Sethos, and that he should think it a happiness in his old age to have a son who might deserve so great an honour. The queen, who was confirm’d in her belief of Sethos being absent, because she did not see Amedes among the initiates, inform’d the king of the journey for which Sethos and Amedes had desir’d leave three months before. The king took it ill she had not acquainted him with it. He even said, if she had inform’d him of it, he should not have been so long absent, but have been back again time enough to have seen a triumph which would have stirr’d up his emulation. But the hour of Osoroth’s conversion was not yet come, and he had more violent shocks than that to suffer before he could be awak’d out of his lethargy; or rather, the present object, which always affected this prince, soon gave way to other impressions.

In the mean time the initiate being enter’d into the temple, ascended a very high throne. The uppermost step was large enough to hold three or four people together. Two officers of the second order follow’d him thither, and drew two large curtains before them. While certain hymns were singing below, which explain’d, in the nature of a prophecy, those benefits which might be expected from an initiate of illustrious birth, Sethos put on his common habit over his white vest; and in about half an hour, the curtains being drawn away, discover’d him to the people, with which the temple was crouded. The acclamations were doubled at the sight of him, and the news was instantly carry’d to the king. The queen, who was present, was cast into an excess of despair, which she was oblig’d then to dissemble, but which will soon produce very fatal effects. In the mean time they had further information, that Sethos was to stay the remainder of the day and the ensuing night in the college of the priests; where there were to be great rejoicings on account of his reception.

THE LIFE OF _SETHOS_.