r % V % UCSB LIBRARY THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMID THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMID A SERIES OF SONNETS BY ROBERT FERGUSON LONDON WILLIAM PICKERING 1847 PREFACE. «» ir^AMILIAR as the wonders of Egypt ■^ have been rendered by many an elabo- rate dissertation, many a charming descrip- tion, and many an exquisite illustration, it has frequently occurred to me that the harvest of poetry has not yet been fully reaped. Her stupendous monuments, well compared by the Westminster Review to the gigantic fossils of an extinct world — her ancient glory and long degradation — her solemn and mys- terious religion — the wonderful natural pheno- mena of her soil and river — her connection with so many of the events of sacred history, vi Preface. and her present interesting and critical posi- tion, are subjects peculiarly well adapted for the poet's contemplation. And this consi- deration must be the only excuse for me, as an unknown writer, in venturing into an already over-crowded arena. Some of the following Spnnets having been written unconnectedly during a recent visit to Egypt, it occurred to me that the interest of the subject might justify me in forming them into a series, and presenting them to the public in their present form. It may, not improbably, be the opinion of some, that I have not, in this little poem, done justice to the character of the extraor- dinary man who now governs Egypt. But agreeing, as I do, in the opinion expressed by Lord Lindsay and others, that while he has done a great deal for Egypt considered as his own property, he has done nothing Preface. vii for the mass of the people, who are fewer in number, and in no better condition, than when his rule commenced ; I cannot look upon him in any other light than that of a landlord improving his estate, for his own benefit and that of his family — for it is indeed his property. He might with truth say, 'TEgypte — c'est moi." He is, perhaps, the greatest monopolist the world ever saw, and being the universal land-owner, merchant, manufacturer, and financier, buying at his own price, selling at his own price, and fixing arbitrarily the value of his own coin, it is no wonder that he has accumulated an enormous private fortune. Yet there are some good points in his character, and if in any of these Sonnets there be an apparent contradiction, it must be remembered that he is a contra- dictory character of whom I write. As implied by the title, the subject of this viii Preface. poem embraces no more of Egypt than that comprehended in the district around Cairo, nor do I in the shghtest degree flatter myself that I have in anywise exhausted that subject. I shall only add, that I have taken all pains to do justice to the task I have undertaken, and with these few remarks I await the verdict in submission, though not in indif- ference. THE SHADOW OF THE PYRAMID. "13 I VER of Egypt I * who at first did'st place -*-'-' A garden in the wilderness, and still Dost needfully thy wonted task fulfil, With bloom perennial to adorn its face — O'er many a dreary desert, day by day, No friendly stream thy lonely path attends, f No shower of freshness from on high descends To impart new life, and cheer thee on thy way ; And yet what waters are so sweet as thine ? Whose charm, (so says the Moslem) e'en might make The spirits of the sainted, for thy sake, The immortal joys of Paradise resign. And on thy borders, O delightful river ! Find all their heaven, rejoice, and drink for ever ! * See Note. t For 1200 miles the Nile does not receive a single tributary stream. B The Shadow of T TERE is the very artery that contains The life-blood of a nation's being — spread Thence through her system by a thousand veins, And to each distant pore distributed ; — No less disastrous when the stream, o'er-fed, Hurries along in feverish overflow, Than when her pulse beats languidly and low. From either cause are dire diseases bred : * What ails her now? — her strength seems well-nigh gone— Is it that age has dried within its course The stream of life ? or rather that upon Her vitals clings oppression, and the source Whence through her veins the tide of hfe should spring, For ages has been drain'd — to feed that bloated thing ? ^ * Plague and Famine are said to be the results either of an insufficient, or of an overabundant rise of the Nile. The past year (1846) has however been an exception, as the plague, -which was predicted in consequence of the unusual height of the inundation, has not taken place. THE Pyramid. /^N Nile's broad bosom, by that favouring gale Impelled, that still at needful season blows, Ordained from heaven to aid the struggling sail, To stem the swollen current as it flows. Our bark we launch and gallantly she goes. Gay sparkling at her bows the rippling deep, Till sinks the breeze with sunset to repose, And by the shore all sullenly we creep; While not a murmur, as we steal along, ' Comes o'er us but the sakeeah's * plaintive sound That, like a moaning spirit of the ground. Tells to the night its tale of grief and wrong ; While Nile's smooth onward flow still seems to say— " Hold on ! for all these things shall pass away." * A wheel turned by ozea for raising water for the pur- pose of irrigation. The Shadow of T" TOW sweet the breath ! how calm the voice of ^ ^ night ! How soothingly her gentle fingers sweep O'er the worn brow in zephyrs soft and light, And charm with magic touch the soul to sleep ! O then to wake ! and feel how full and deep The pulse of Nile throbs round thee, and to hear No voice but his low breathing on the ear ; Then in a thought of Him who still doth keep His watch o'er earth, a moment's space upon Yon sky to gaze, and in that moment see The gleaming dart of the unsleeping One Flash through the sky against his enemy ; * And then to muse, till melting into dreams, The murmur of the Nile some Friend's loved ac- cents seems. • The [Moslems believe that a falling star is the dart of the Almighty thrown at an evil spirit. THE Pyramid. ' ^ I "'IS midnight now, yet almost light as noon, ■^ For like a sovereign here in her own right O'er the wide heaven rides forth the queenly moon, These rayless lids around how deadly bright Can tell — for she who once a luckless sight So dearly paid,* still brooks not mortal eye Should scathless view in the uncurtained sky. Her charms in all the nakedness of night — Such moral beam now shines upon this land. As bright, as joyless, as her moon's cold sway, No ghmmering dawn that might perchance expand In fostering years to freedom's perfect day, Alas ! for freedom's sun might shine in vain On those who ne'er shall wake to freedom's life again — * See the story of Actaeon, The ophthalmia, so common in Egypt, has been partly at- tributed to the habit of sleeping exposed to the powerful light of the moon. The Shadow of ^TP'HERE is an art, when nature's life has fled, That for a moment life fictitious brings, A spasm that fiercely draws the human strings. Till throes convulsive seize upon the dead. Clench the lean hand, and raise the ghastly head ; 'Tis but a moment, and withdrawn the charm, Droops the unconscious head, the nerveless arm, And still and stiff the lifeless form is spread. When 'tis so with a nation — all in vain A despot stretches forth his iron hand To build, to fortify, to fill the main With fleets, to chain with fortresses the land. Wasting a lifetime in the hope insane Thus to redeem the land that must be born again. THE Pyramid. TT O I by the power whose potent influence gives ^^^^ To this dead land a Ufe that is not hers, See her worn frame possessed ! she starts — she stirs — Convulsive writhes. — Fool ! dost thou think she lives ? Is there a soul within her when she strives ? A soul to give a motive and an aim To what she does — a thought of use or fame — Or moves she but as thy fierce impulse drives ? Go ! — drag the Fellah from his peaceful toil — Bring him in chains, then arm his trembling hand — And bid him fight — for what ? — his native land ? His ! nay — he hath no portion in the soil — No — not so much as set his foot upon * — ' For e'en his last and lowest ties are gone. * Mehemet Ali has taken the greater part of the land of Egypt into his own possession, allowing the original pro- prietors a life interest, which is a measure anything but con- ducive to its national regeneration — though as a property it may be rendered temporarily more productive. The Shadow of VIII. "VTO more of this — for not such thoughts as ^ these Does this delightful hour of peace suggest, Lulled by his murmuring wave and gentle breeze, Together now, oppressor and opprest, Nile gathers them to slumber on his breast, And the worn serf may close his weary eyes On these green banks, from all his cares at rest, Stretch his tired Hmbs, and dream of Paradise. And though he wake to toil unblest and stern, To sow in tears, and not in joy to reap, Yet shall ye see him, rising from that sleep. Towards the kindling East devoutly turn, In humble worship and submission deep. And while ye pity, ye may also learn ! THE Pyramid. O EE where the pilgrim bound for Mecca's shrine ^^ Yon weary steps and way-worn robes proclaim, Is not his pilgrimage akin to mine ? Is not our errand somewhat of the same ? For not e'en Mecca's venerated name, Nor yet Medina where the Prophet lies, Receives the homage, nor can boast the fame Of those dim tombs that now befoi*e me rise. Alas ! proud city — and is this the sight That first attracts the distant stranger's gaze ? Nor fort, nor palace, tells the Moslem's might, Alone the giant tombs of other days. Obscure and shadowy in the early light. As clouds on the horizon he surveys.* * The pyramids appear in sight at tlie distance of thirty miles. 10 .. The Shadow of O TAY ! now a modern wonder meets mine eye, Egypt's last ruler triumphs o'er her first — Mahommed dares what Menes never durst,* And dims the glory of the days gone by — See 'gainst the rushing Nile uprear on high A barrier tide and tempest shall not force. To change the mighty river in its course And streams of life to all the land supply. But will old Nile, that many a century past Was reverenced as a Father and a God, Will he obey the new Usurper's rod. And follow where his finger points at last — Or will he rise in all his majesty And dash the fetters from him? — We shall see I ■* Menes, the first King of Egypt, diverted the course of the Nile in order to build Memphis ; a magnificent work, but not to be compared with what Mahommed Ali's Barrage will be, if (of which there is considerable doubt) it is ever completed. THE Pyramid. 11 A ND now, gay sparkling in the morning light, ■*• -^ Cairo's embowered minarets appear ; How graceful ! how fantastic is the sight ! Even man's works with more luxuriance here. As well as those of Nature, seem to rise Beneath this life-inspiring atmosphere — Till, like the land's own mirage, as we near The enchanting spot, the charm'd illusion flies, And still, o'er all the stern old citadel Keeps watch as it was wont in days gone by. When from its shade the Arab chivalry Rode forth, the red-cross banner to repel : Ah ! how its gallant Founder would have spurn'd The use to which those walls have since been turn'd.* * The Citadel of Cairo, the well-known scene of the mas- sacre of the Memlooks, was built by the illustrious Saladin. 12 The Shadow of XII. T3UT, ere within the port we moor our bark, "^"^ A moment let us pause by Rhoda's isle ! For here it was, within his fragile ark, To careless wave, to watchful crocodile, Exposed, upon the heaving breast of Nile, Wailing and weak, the infant prophet lay; Until the royal Maiden wiped away * The guileless tear, and changed it for a smile : Ah 1 gentle daughter of a ruthless sire ! One deed alone of all thy life is told, And that is one of mercy — 'We desire No more — wherever Scripture shall unfold Its page to Man, till not a mouldering stone Points out yon giant piles, thy story shall be known. * Opposite to old Cairo is the Island of Rhoda, to which tradition points as the spot where the infant Moses was found by Pharaoh's daughter. THE Pyramid. 13 T TNALTER'D might we deem this lovely isle ^^ Since that fair Princess wander'd by its shore, So sweet a perfume steals across the Nile From banks by rose and myrtle cluster'd o'er ; 'Tis a secluded Paradise once more,* Where, 'mid soft fountains and inviting bowers. Rulers might linger through the lazy hours, Despite a nation's anguish, as of yore. Ah ! Ibrahim— thou soldier rough and stern ! Dost Thou love gentle flowers ? dost Thou delight To cherish and protect them ? Nay then — turn ! Turn to another garden ! one that might Have shown as fair as e'er this earth have graced, It might have done — It is — a blasted waste. * The Isle of Rhoda is now occupied by the beautiful gardens of Ibrahim Pacha, under the management of Mr. Traill, a native of Scotland. "It is," says Stephens, "de- cidedly the prettiest spot about Caii-o." Though at the same time, many people prefer the trim formality of the Pacha's warden at Shoobra. 14 The Shadow of XIV. KAHIREH ! * tho' the spirit of the North, Leading the van of national advance, With energy resistless issuing forth, Hath swept before it half the world's romance, Yet is there still enchantment in the glance That shews us, mingled in a sparkling stream, Grave camels toil, and splendid Arabs prance. And all that Eastern world of which we dream : Not less the charm that 'twas but yesterday We stood within the old, familiar home Of our more sombre world ; and when we come Where, strangely mingling solemn things and gay, This fresh creation opens on our view, I know not how it is, and yet it scarce seems true. * El-Kahireh, or " the victorious," the ancient Arabic name for Cairo, THE Pyramid. 15 O TAND we indeed within the very hold Of Moslem rancour and of Moslem scorn ? And is the Moslem's bitterness outworn ? And is the zeal that burn'd so fierce of old Within the heart of glowing Islam, cold ? What is it that hath wrought this sudden spell, And thus, within the charmed citadel, Conducts the D'jour, indifferent more than bold \ 'Tis the fore-shadowing of a mightier power, Before whose steps 'tis Islam's doom to fall. And, like a flame, the while it doth devour. It lights the secrets of the mystic hall. Then gaze ye on the marvels while ye may. For, by the breath ye breathe, they melt away ! 16 The Shadow of T TNTAMED and haughty, dashing proudly ^^^ past, Behold the Bedouin on his gallant steed ! And mark the pledge to Ishmael and his seed, How thro' all changes it doth changeless last ! Turn to the Turk, the tyrant of to-day : No word of promise holds his kingdom fast ! See ! how he sleeps the strength of life away, Till from his hands the sceptre shall be cast. It seems a pleasant life to sit and think. Where thoughts are dreams, to let the fancy feed On variegated reveries, and drink * The soothing perfume of the fragrant weed. Till from his slumbers he awakes to find That all men have not slept — and he is left behind. * The Arabic expression for smoking signifies " drinkint tobacco." THE Pyramid. 17 T) EHOLD the next — nor need to ask his name ! "^"^ Turn from the desart-master's scornful brow — Look on his fallen Brother's lot of shame — * The Bond-maid's son has the advantage now ! Was it for this the fiery pillar came ? For this the Angel's food — the yielding main ? That thirty centuries find him here again, In his old house of bondage, still the same ? No I be it to the dust his form is bow'd, Still waits for him a prospect bright indeed ; And his eye sparkles, and his heart is proud. When he beholds in faith the chosen seed Upon their second Exodus go forth, To meet their Brethren, ransom'd from the earth. * See Note.. B^ 18 The Shadow of XVIII. '^ I ^IS strange, through Israel's centuries of dis- ■^ grace, How still to Egypt the remembrance clings Of its old Ruler, of the Hebrew race, To whom all mighty and mysterious things Mindless of their own Caliphs and their Kings This people still ascribes,* nor years efface That name, but fix it firmer in its place : And yet that name no ray redeeming flings O'er his descendants, nor has power to charm The Moslem's bigot rancour, or his hate Not even for a moment, to disarm ; For while in Joseph's name they venerate The memory of their Ruler, they forget To whom their country owes that ancient debt. * Every monument of the past for which the Arabs can- not account they are in the habit of attributing- to Joseph, as for instance the well in the Citadel, which they call " Joseph's well." The Bahr Jussuf, or "Joseph's Canal," the work of one of the ancient king's. The pyramids they also ascribe to the same source. In some of these instances they confound Joseph the Patriarch witli Yoosef Salah-e'-deen (the well- known Saladin). THE Pyramid. 19 X) Y narrow streets encompass'd like a maze, "^"^ Now come we on a spacious open square ; And startling is the sight that meets our gaze, For the man-dealer has his market there : Exposed in front behold his coarser ware — Dongolan — Nubian — but from vulgar sight Apart, the gentle Galla, Georgian fair, This like soft evening,* that as morning bright. Though it can never to a British mind Be other than a hateful sight to view Bondage in any aspect, yet we find More mercy in the old world than the new ; For the false Prophet, in the laws he gave, — How is the Christian shamed ! — did not forget the slave, f * The Gallas are an Abyssinian race, handsome and well- formed, and with scarcely any of the Negro characteristics. They are very common in the Hareems of Cairo. t Since the above was written, the traffic in slaves has been abolished throuarhout the Turkish dominions. 20 The Shadow of *' T VICTORIOUS " City! Here within thy wall We look for glory, and we find disgrace. For, steep'd in vice, and ground by bitter thrall, We find the dregs of each illustrious race Once Lords of Egypt, slaves in this same place. Even from him, the first-born of the land. Whose giant records shall untainted stand, When time shall other puny works efface. How shall the stranger know him when he meets, With his lack-lustre eyes, and mean array, The cringing Copt in Cairo's narrow streets ? How has his splendid genius pass'd away ! Among his Father's glorious works he stands. Unheeding, uninspired, to lick each master's hands.* * The character of the Copts, given to JNIr. Lane by one of themselves, describes them as "ignorant, deceitful, faith- less, and abandoned to the pursuit of worldly gain, and to indulgence in sensual pleasures." THE Pyramid. 21 XXI. A ND yet for him of his great Father-kings •^ ^ To boast the glory — to invite the meed Of praise for many and for mighty things, Were but a vain and idle task indeed ; Here they are written, — he who runs may read. Let him but point the stranger passing by Where stand their tombs, and say, " See I there they lie ! " And that were all the boasting that he need. " Son of a Pharaoh ! " * Is it come to this ? The title Monarchs might be proud to vaunt, Is made a very name to mock and hiss ? Cease, scornful Moslem, the ill-chosen taunt ! When years have wrapp'd thy very name in gloom, The Pilgrims of the world shall seek the Pharaoh's tomb. * " Gins-el-Farauni," descendant of a Pharaoh, an ex- pression of contempt made use of by the Turks. 22 The Shadow of '\7'E who on many an old and classic shore Of Greece or sunny Italy have seen, Where glory long-departed shines no more, Not only Nature such as she has been, But, though man tread not with as proud a mien. Still woman's eye as bright, her cheek as fair. Her voice as sweet, her forehead as serene. Here time has spoil'd what he is wont to spare ! Where shall we look for that once lovely race, W^hose beauty in the halls of Memphis shone ? The cerements of the tomb contain alone The form like hers of symmetry and grace. Whose image, idol of a Tuscan shrine,* Ruling a second realm, is still to art divine. * See Note. THE Pyramid. 23 XXIII. "\7'ET has the Copt, degraded tho' he be, A creed that claims a kindred with our own, For the good seed by an apostle sown, That grew up once a fair and goodly tree,* Still lingers on ; and though indeed we see Upon its withered stem no living fruit. Yet to the churlish soil still stubbornly Clings the poor blighted thing with its dead root. And he has suffered for this mongrel faith Trouble and persecution, and has worn The badge of shame,f and mark of Moslem scorn. And tasted sorrow, even unto death ; But owes to thee, Mahomraed ! respite now. For, whatsoe'er thy faults, no bigot thou. * The Gospel was first preached in Egypt by St. Mark, and the conversion of Eg-ypt to Christianity was shortly fol- lowed by that of jVubia and Abyssinia, the latter of which still retains its religion, thougli Nubia has lapsed into ftla- hommedanism. t At one time in tlie shape of a wooden cross of five pounds weight suspended round the neck, at auotlier, in the brand of a lion on the hand. 24 The Shadow of XXIV. T TERE comes the next, the smooth and subtle ^-^ Greek ! Is this the same whom he of Macedon To the world's conquest led triumphant on ? That calculating eye, that care-worn cheek No trace of his once-lofty spirit speak. As vainly, in the City of his fame, The records of his glory shall we seek, The Conqueror hath left it but his name. Ah I could that Conqueror, piercing thro' the veil Of ages, as he watch'd before his eyes The stately walls of Alexandria rise. Have witnessed his descendants chain'd for sale Within those walls,* his tears might well have flow'd. To see the fruit of all Ambition sosv'd. * Immensenuinbersof Greek captives were sold for slaves iu Alexandi'ia and Cairo, on Ibrahim Pacha's return from his campaign in the ^lorea. THE Pyramid. 25 XXV. A ND where is he who, like a raging flame, J. \. u The Koran or the sword," his battle cry, From Mecca's shores with conquering Amru came ? In his own city here of victory One only bears a heavier yoke than he; What can that Faith do for him in his need ? It teaches him to bear adversity With patience that might shame a better Creed. See what he is ! To know what he has been Go ! view the tombs — ye shall not see them long — Where the old Caliphs sleep — or climb his strong- Old fortress on the rock, and view the scene Spread at your feet, and ye may picture then The ancient glory of the Saracen. 26 The Shadow of "T SAID that all were here — Alas ! for one Is not — of him remaineth not a trace ; One who to power and splendour climb'd upon His baseness, and to glory from disgrace Arose, one sprung from that unconquer'd race That on the passes of Caucasian heights * To the train'd masses of the Muscovites Still shows a gallant and enduring face. Fields have been fought around, but none so fierce As when on Gizeh's venerable plain The fiery Memlook flung himself in vain Upon the foe, his bristling ranks to pierce ; Ah ! from that field had none returned to tell, Slain in a noble cause — then it had been as well ! * The Memlooks were descended from Circassian slaves. THE Pyramid. 27 TTj^OR lo ! another struggle— 'tis their last ! -^ They fall — No foe dares face them — yet they fall! With bleeding steeds and numbers melting fast They charge, in madness, the unyielding wall Whence gleams the flash and wings the coward ball : It was a splendid troop that fatal morn Rode up to Cairo for the festival ; A gory heap was forth that evening borne ! We sink their crimes in pity for their lot ; For 'twas a foul and treacherous deed of shame, The blackest blot on Mahmoud's chequer'd name ; And though a deed by which the world lost not, We shudder as we stand within the keep — And view the murder-den, and Emin's fearful leap. 2& The Shadow of T3 ENEATH, their tombs are scattered, light "^-^ and gay, Unlike the grim old tombs around them spread — Too gay, methinks, for mansions of the dead, Too frail — for see them crumbling day by day ! Like nature's bright creations, overhead Their tapering stems the minarets display ; Like hers, untouch'd their stony leaves are shed, Nor hand of Man restores them in decay. Pause in their silent streets — No footstep breaks The stillness where these grim old warriors sleep, Never Muezzin from his watch-tower steep. With pious call the hour of slumber wakes — No lingering mourner loves to watch and weep Around — No heart is heavy for their sakes. THE Pyramid. 29 A ND in the midst among his victims here * Was once the tomb of their Destroyer set — Strange place indeed it was for him ! but yet If in his younger days he had no fear To wake and find accusing foes so near, Now that the period cannot but be nigh When he shall give account of his career, He seems from the companionship to fly ; And in the shelter of his own strong-hold. Beneath a holy roof's protecting shade, And by a fountain wrought, in words of gold. With Koran texts, his resting-place hath made, Where at the close of his eventful life, He may repose from four-score years of strife. * The intended tomb of Mehemet Ali originally stood in the Cemetery of the ]\Iemlooks, but of late years he has changed his intention, and it is now destined to be placed within the magnificent mosque which he is erecting in the Citadel. 30 The Shadow of A ND if that Mosque with all its gorgeous pride, Its stately columns, and majestic roof Clad in the polished stone of Benisouef, And if that fortress which has oft defied A living foe, could from the Eternal hide, And if that fountain with its cleansing flow, Could wash the blood-stained spot it stands beside, Then might he sleep in peace who slept below. O thou that buildest lift but up thine eyes To learn a lesson ! — On the desart stand Three stern, dark forms — of these a tyrant's hand The mightier two — the third, of humbler size, A righteous monarch built — the scattered sand May seek their ashes — He in safety lies.* * See note to Sonnet 55. THE Pyramid. * 31 1% /TEHEMET'S is a strange career, and still A stranger character, in which we find Many and varied principles combined : A Northern energy with Eastern skill And subtlety — a most unscrupulous will, And yet sometimes a nobleness of mind, That leaves the Master whom, (alas ! for ill Too oft) he makes his model, far behind — * And his sagacious intellect has cast The cramping chains of bigotry away, And, while old, powerless Islam stands aghast, Bids her go forth, impatient of delay ; But his fierce spirit, in advance too fast, ^ Forgets a nation is not of a day. * The French flatter the Pacha by comparing him with Napoleon — to whom, however, he afforded a very favour- able contrast in the late war, during which the English mails were forwarded, and Englishmen in his dominions en- joyed in all respects the same security as usual. 32 The Shadow of XXXII. "^7^ ES ! daring schemer ! We might e'en suppose One of the ancient, giant-minded kings Had risen with his old rememberings, His sleep of thirty centuries at a close ; Forgetful that such mighty works as those Which well the land achieved in his old time, When in the vigour of its manhood's prime. Are far beyond its strength, when, worn with woes, Its feeble days come on — 'tis not for thee. With all thy power, to bid its tottering age Resume the might of youth — More need should be A gentle hand its sorrows to assuage. And lead, in this its helpless dotage, forth. The worn-out Nestor of the ancient earth. THE Pyramid. 33 TTTE look to thee, O Ibrahim! for thou hast Seen how the strength of many doth exceed The strength of one ;* and if that thou canst read ITiy lesson right, and hast but faith to cast Thy bread upon the waters, well agreed To earn a grateful memory of the past, And reap no present triumph — then indeed The day of better things will dawn at last — For though the tree be withered, it may yet Contain good seed. And when thou dost behold Our stately shadow, and the fruit of gold On England's spreading boughs, do not forget The slow and patient years that formed the root, Whence springs the stem that bears such goodly fruit. * Ibrahim Pacha was very mucli impressed, on his visit to England, with the wealth, power, and intelligence, of the middle classes, forming, as it does, so striking 'a contrast to the Autocracy of his own country. 34 The Shadow of XXXIV.* A ND thou, my Country ! when thou dost dis- play Before the heir of earth's most ancient throne Triumphs of art to other lands unknown, O do not thou forget, in this thy day, That there was once, in ages passed away, A time when all these arts so proudly shewn To the Egyptian, were his nation's own ! And thou, who rul'st with such triumphant sway The realms of skill and science — where was then Thy glory ? In the lowest form of man. Thy children naked on the mountains ran, Or shared the wolf and the hyaena's den. If then thy heart beat high with the review, O be thou humble and be thankful too. * This Sonnet was written during Ibraliim Pacha's ^'isit to Enoland. THE Pyramid. 35 XXXV, TTERE must be change in time — the Moslem's ^n. thrall The land detests, and waits another Lord ; His strength declining, and his sway abhorr'd, The Ottoman is like a tottering wall ; Propp'd it may be, — 'tis but to break his fall. Throughout the land in ominous survey, See the proud Briton and the fiery Gaul ! The world's next page shall tell who wins the prey ! * Ye reverend forms that o'er this ancient plain Your watch these forty centuries have set, Say, shall ye see this nation rise again ! Her years of anguish and of shame forget In brighter days ? — the vision is not vain — God knows the changes ye may witness yet ! * For a prophecy on the subject see the eloquent words of the Author of Eothen. " The Englishman, leaning far over to hold his loved India, shall plant a firm foot on the banks of the Nile, and sit in the seats of the faithful." 36 The Shadow of XXXVI. ^ I "'HE Frank came once— six hundred years ago — He came with steel, and by the steel he fell : He comes again — he comes with gold — that spell He never found to fail him,* and although The spirit of his mission may be low Compared with his who in mistaken zeal Sealed his belief with such a bloody seal, Yet is mankind the gainer ; for if so It be that earth's poetic age is past — So the fierce passion of its youth is dead, The vain ambition of its manhood fled. Then marvel ye no longer if at last Like man — become more sober and more sage, It turns to peaceful avarice in its age. * " Egypt is becoming gradually and unconsciously sub- sidized by the wealth that England lavishes." Crescent and Cross^ THE Pyramid. 37 XXXVII. 'V TOW from the living turn we to the dead ! The mighty dead whose tombs around us rise High towering far beyond us to the skies, Or caverned in the very ground we tread ; The earth with tombs of countless deities Is undermined. Here spreads his form uncouth Fierce Typhon — there the monkey-god of truth Grins in his last grimace with hollow eyes ; Here the fell asp in coil eternal wound, His withered fang no longer terrible ; — There his winged foe beside him on the ground, Awaits new life as in a second shell ; — Here honoured Apis spreads his stately size ; — There, not the less a god, the feeble insect lies. 38 The Shadow of XXXVIII. T) UT not a God so proud a tomb can boast '^-^ As these of Man's, whereon the vanquish'd sight, In ranging o'er their huge proportions lost, Fails to conceive the enormous mass aright ; Till, at their feet encamping night by night, And day by day contemplating, we find The fulness of their majesty and might Inspire by slow degrees the expanding mind ; And feel they are as tombs of men should be, No sculptured marble pomp, no tinsel glare, A stern, yet a serene simplicity, A majesty as naked and as bare, From all earth's paltry ornament as free. As they went from the world who slumber there. THE Pyramid. 39 XXXIX. \ ND who are ye with minds to judge aright? Not ye who, passing, glance, and go your way, Ye who have slept beneath their shade by night,* And seen them in the morn's transparent ray The freshness of immortal youth display; Or watched the moon beyond all others bright Garb their gigantic forms in reverend white. And crown their heads with locks of silver grey : Ye who have quarried in the human mine, Calling all modern science to your aid, And if that ye have found some rude-scrawl'd line, To hang a guess on when these stones were laid, Or what the purpose of the vast design. Have deemed your costly enterprise well-paid. * It was universally acknowledged by those who remained any time at Gizeh, that the more carefully and frequently the pyramids were inspected, the more extraordinary their gran- deur appeared, and also the striking eftects which under the varying influence of the atmosphere, they continually pre- sented. — Col. Howard Vyse. 40 The Shadow of "\7^E who the tide of years have backward traced, Until the waves that mark the stream of time, Seem in the distance melted and effaced ; Then do ye view these rocks that rise sublime Midway to break the blank, and form a spot, WTiereon as strikes the wave a gleam of light Points out from far its course to human sight And makes the past no more a gloomy blot. Ye who in hours of midnight loneliness, Have felt the dreams of glorious things pass by. Thoughts that it were immortal to express, Could ye but catch their forms, so swift they fly ; Musing as mused in many a bygone age. The Patriarch, Prophet, Hero, and the Sage. THE Pyramid. 41 XLI. T) ATRIARCH, Prophet, Hero, Sage, are gone I And now, the last of all the human race, I come — it may be but a moment's space, Yet still — the last ! — And so the stream flows on. It is my turn to stand and look upon Those forms o'er which, with kindred thoughts in- spired. They, each in turn, have wondered and admired. Alone, by night — Yet do I look alone ? Who knows, e'en now, but in some distant star. Science, exploring for a living sign, This world of ours,* detects yon dark, straight Hne, And hails a brother mortal from afar. He knows the sign of life — Ah ! can he tell — ( That may be strange to him) the sign of death as well? * To a spectator from a distant planet, the pyramids, as well from their immense size, as from the strength and sim- plicity of their outlines, would present the first indication of human inhabitants. Seen from the moon, with a telescope of much less power than that of Lord Rosse, they would be conspicuous objects. 42 The Shadow of XLII. T TOW time has spared that which he doth destroy I Spared — as the caged Hon sometimes spares A victim — one, to serve him for a toy — With whom his daily board and bed he shares, And changed as 'twere, in nature, no more cares To mingle thoughts of him and hunger now : So time, with these familiar, no more dares To lay a spoiler's hand upon their brow. Not so forbearing Mahmoud ! greedily His calculating eye has ofttimes scann'd The enormous mass,* and fort and store-house plann'd, Cut from the ready quarry ; fain would he The curse of old Eratostratos earn. And, not for want of will, shall leave them in his turn. * Mehemet Ali once had the pyramids surveyed, with a view to appropriate their materials to the construction of some buildings he was about erecting ; but INI. Linant (was it a pious fraud?) reported that it would be cheaper to pro- cure stone elsewhere. THE Pyramid. 43 WHAT means this form ? of all-pervading flame The emblem,* heaven-derived, and evermore Aspiring to the source from whence it came ; E'en as all spirits to their Author soar ; The first rude sketch of him whom Greece of yore Embodied in a form so passing fair, As never marble was made flesh before, As never marble shall be to compare — Type, it may be, of man's immortal soul, Thus home returning as the rays of fire Towards the fount of living light aspire ; What then the purpose of the mighty whole ? For life ? for death ? for worship ? for defence ? Wherefore the wondrous edifice, and whence ? f * The form of the pyramid, one of the earliest under which the Sun was worshipped, has been supposed by some writers to have been modelled in resemblance of a ray of light, and to be symbolic of the immortality of the soul. t See Note. 44 The Shadow of XLIV. TT^ROM the past world to one before me laid ! Who, tho' his lips be sealed, perchance may tell The secret — with how wonderful a spell Man in his wisdom, to his Maker's aid Has come unasked, and death's corruption stayed I Ready to rise and stand upon his feet. When called to come before the judgment seat, Behold him I still in robes of earth arrayed. Had life not yet that garment thread-bare worn, That, loath to leave it for the worms to fret. The owner wraps it round him even yet. To cover, in the Resurrection morn. His shivering soul ? Or was it that his faith Quailed at the darkest mystery of death ? THE Pyramid. 45 XLV. A LAS I There lies beside him in his hold A witness of his unbelief.* Men sow Earth's seed in full assurance, for they know That it shall not remain beneath the mould. Yet they distrust God for the human seed, That He shall raise it from the earth again ; And with ingenious folly they would fain Seek to preserve the dry and wither'd weed ! Their faith could reach one half the Almighty's plan, But could not grasp the whole, and durst not trust Him who shall raise the dead, its scatter'd dust To gather and unite, but left for Man His part — the form inviolate to keep, Till God, in his due time, should raise it from its sleep, f * This refers to the grain sometimes found in Egyptian tombs, from wliich some very prolific crops have been raised in this country. It is well known bj' the title of " IMummy wheat." t In order to understand this and succeeding Sonnets, see note on the doctrines of the Ancient Egyptians relating to a future state. 46 The Shadow of np^AKE the peace-offering from the dead man's ■^ hand I The earth was fresher when it grew this grain ; Take it ! we have none Uke it in our land — For aught we know this handful may remain From the seven years of plenty. Not in vain Its trust the tomb has guarded — to this day Its life is in it — it shall spring again, And with abundant fruit thy toil repay. What can ye give the owner in exchange ? Ah ! could those dry lips move, an anxious plea Were his ! protection — his futurity Is in thy hand — how cruel and how strange The creed * that thus in trembling, not in trust, Laid this poor helpless Brother in the dust ! * " Their's was the sin to cumber faith with fear, To tremble where they should have feared and loved." Milne's Palm Leaves, THE Pyramid. 47 XLvir. TTOW striking is the contrast that we find Of creed between the Hving and the dead ! The one to fate impassive bows his head. His God all-trusting, to the future blind, In life submissive, and in death resigned : The other, trustless of his Maker's power, Clinging for succour in his helpless hour To the resources of his native mind. Hard faith it was ! that made the end of life, With all its trials, all its struggles o'er, But the commencement of a deadlier strife, And agtiinst odds more fearful than before ; The stream is cold enough — there needs not foes Upon the shore, the landing to oppose. 48 The Shadow of '' I "'HE one looks forward with as perfect trust To his appointed home in Paradise, Ere e'en his mortal dust return to dust, As if that Heaven were opened to his eyes ; The other, thirty dreary centuries To spend in many a grovelling shape was doomed ; Till, at the destined hour, its brutish ties The soul cast off, and human form resumed. Stranger mistake was never dreamt by Man ! Than thus to make the immortal spirit range. While the vile dust remained without a change — Just the reverse of the Creator's plan. The dust, through Nature's varied forms shall roam ; The spirit, straightway wings it to its home. THE Pyramid. 49 MYSTERIOUS Watcher ! Thou who hast been set, With stern endurance on that visage scan*'d, The secret of four thousand years to guard* — Ah ! Sphynx, is thine enigma riddled yet ? Are yon strong fortresses a whit too strong The siege of thirty centuries to abide ? Yon secret vaftlts a whit too safe to hide A tyrant from the vengeance due to wrong? Not all enough to keep its sacred trust, Mysterious skill, or strength of massy wall — In the companionship of holy dust, Doth strength for aid on superstition call ; And lays a God beside himf thought how vain ! The God shall wake no more — the Man shall rise again. * The Arabs believe that the Sphynx was placed as a Talisman to guard the Pyramids, and in tliis they are pro- bably nearer the truth than in many of their fanciful notions — for, observes the Quarterly Review " The Sphynx in general represented a guardian, and we may infer that it was erected by those who felt the full significance of the pyramid graves." t In the second pyramid were found the bones of an ox, conjectured to have been the God Apis. H 50 The Shadow of L. XT'ES ! yon stern lines do but embody one, One stern, unchanging, omnipresent thouglit, That dwelt a deadly incubus upon The Builder's soul, and in his nature wrought : With giant efforts all his life he sought To fling the fearful burden from his' mind, And left, at last, in visible shape behind Its type, this load, the heaviest ever brought By man upon the weary earth to press — In this stupendous form is tangibly That thought pourtrayed I Eternity — No less ! Eternity mistaken ! Never ye, Who do not faith, surpassing faith possess. No — never look into eternity ! THE Pyramid. 51 T ~TE looked — he saw a gulf how drear and dark- He heard the roar of an unfathomed sea— The sound seemed angry — Lo ! the mighty ark- Through life his refuge he ordained to be, When on the dark wave of futurity He should be cast — Alone in that stern tomb — Fit resting-place for tyrants such as he, Alone iA safety — not a friend finds room — Yet is there somewhat almost of sublime In this dread struggle of a mortal spirit, With deadly odds against him — to inherit The life to come, so ill deserved in time — Not without awe the giant fort we scan. Its only garrison — one lone, dead man ! 52 The Shadow of 'T^YRANT ! thou hast but made it over sure — The day will come when vainly thou shalt call, And curse the skill that built it too secure, On this o'er-hanging human rock to fall — Or else thou hast provided wherewithal Man's hand may smite thee — avarice of old, That deemed naught less than its own idol gold. Could be enshrined within this mighty wall, Hard at thy gate hath knocked — And science too, Joining to siege thee in thy last strong hold, The stone from this thy sepulchre hath rolled. Eager if haply she may find a clue Thy mind's mysterious riddle to unfold, And bare its secret workings to the view. THE Pyramid. 53 LIU. X) UT stay ! for he who reared this fortress tomb, ""^"^ To shield him in his years of helplessness, Hath found beneath its giant shade no room, Nor sleeps within its fathomless recess — * Can this huge pile then be no more nor less Than a grand juggle, a stupendous cheat? A rock on which the furious tide should beat, And waste its strength in unavaihng stress. While he on whom its vengeance it would wreak In humbler, but in safer home the while. Girt by the guardian waves of friendly Nile, Sleeps on in peace where Man shall never seek ; As hunters to the raging beast of prey Their garment throw, and steal unseen away. * Herodotus and Strabo inform us that the founders of tlie great and second pyramids, after their completion, dis- trusting their security, (or possibly, as I have here taken the liberty of supposing, having all along intended them as a cloke to their real intentions) were not laid within them, but deposited in an obscure and secret place, around which, in the case of Cheops, the waters of the Nile were in- troduced. 54 The Shadow of TTTELL ! Tyrant — thou wouldst cheat them? say thou hast — Be it thou hast outwitted man — what then ? Awake ! for thy three thousand years are past — And rise triumphant from thy dreary den — Resume thy shape ! Rejoin thy fellow men ! See ! how they look with wondering awe upon Thy very tomb — Rise ! visit once agen Thy glorious kingdom I (nay — for that — sleep on) Sleep on for all that man can do or say — There is no voice but one can bid thee wake, When the dread summons at the judgement day With call imperious shall thy slumbers break, Then shalt thou learn that though there is a way To vanquish the grim foe, thine was a dark mis- take. THE Pyramid. 55 X) UT there was one who fervently with thee ^^"^ Besought protection for his slumbering dust, But not, like thee, oppressive and unjust, Preferred a nation's grateful memory To skill and strength, with hatred and disgust. His tomb indeed is empty — Where is he ? Not lost — but changed to safer custody,* In the strong hands of England now in trust. Ah ! were it true, as simple Arabs say. That guardian spirits keep their watch around. To scare the hand of sacrilege away, And hold the tenant of the hallowed ground Secure against the resurrection day. One angel has been wise and faithful found ! * The remains of Rlycerinus, the founder of the third pyramid, who is said by Herodotus to have been a just and good King, were discovered by Col. Vyse, and deposited in the British Museum. Respecting which the Chevalier Bunsen has the happy remark, that while the tyrants Cheops and Cephrenes were never laid within their pyramids, and no one can tell whether their dust is scattered or not — tlie remains of the good Myeerinus have been preserved to this day, and are now ti'ansferred to the keeping of the most powerful nation in the world. 56 The Shadow of LVI. A ND when their work was done, a vain conceit, Came o'er the Builder's mind, upon this stone To make their likeness an eternal throne,* On which the storms of time should vainly beat, From which the bafHed enemy retreat, Where, 'mid the wreck of ages, all alone They should survive, till nations then unknown, Should come from far to worship at their feet — But time would not permit that man should ford The stream of ages thus, and from its place Dashed down the image of earth's haughty lord. And with his tinger wiped away the trace — He ground to dust the marks of human hand. The rest resembled God's — and so he let it stand. * Herodotus informs us tliat the three principal pyramids were originally sunnounted by statues of their founders. THE Pyramid. 57 LVII. 'r I 1WAS yet a vainer thought hispired the Gaul, '*- In his fond dream of what shall never be, To place upon this glorious pedestal. The image of his God of victory,* Perpetuating thus eternally A giant lie, to blot from history's page A hateful truth — to mock the present age, . And cheat the ages of futurity — Aye — set him there ! well-chosen is the spot — There might be heard, on Gizeh's fatal day, The roar of his victorious guns, but not The British thunder in Aboukir's bay, That saved a nation from a captive's lot. And scared the startled eagle from its prey. * Some years ago a proposition was made in a Frencli paper to erect a colossal statue of Napoleon on the top of the great pyramid. 53 The Shadow of T^URN now a moment from yon frowning pile, Whose statelj' shadow with a sense sublime Exalts the soul — For to the end of time It never shall have power to beguile One tear for him who built it — turn awhile For softer thoughts where humbler brethren sleep — One link of tenderness to make us weep With those that wept — with them that smiled to smile — See ! here are lowlier sepulchres — yet graced With ornament like dwellings rich and choice, And here is food for lips that cannot taste, And instruments of music to rejoice The ear that in its funeral mask encased, Shall never hear again the charmer's voice. THE Pyramid. 59 LIX. A ND gentle tokens are there — Here is one — -^ Perchance a birth-day gift to some fair maid, Prized even unto death by her that's gone, And since — three thousand years beside her laid. Surely the giver has been well repaid ! Take it, and read the motto written here On this frail toy from distant lands conveyed. " The flower unfolds, and lo ! another year ! " * Another year I — How many a year since then Has opened on young hearts whose fancy bright O'er the dim future shed the golden light Of hope's enchantment, and has closed agen On the dull tomb and grim sarcophagus. So is it still, and still it shall be thus. * Vessels of Chinese manufacture have frequently been found in Egyptian tombs apparently undisturbed for 3000 years. They are supposed to have been imported through India, and the characters are the same as those used in China at the present day — a common motto upon them is that quoted in the sonnet above. 60 The Shadow of A ND was it, even in a Pharaoh's day, ^ The fashion native talent to despise — To praise the skill of nations far awaj' — * And look on home-bred art with scornful eyes ? Have thirty centuries left the world more wise ? Ah ! no — man's mightier passions change their aim — l^iit in his weakness he is still the same, And thus it is, when we can sympathize Even with him whom thirty centuries part, It is not in the trophies of his pride By which the storms of ages are defied — Not the sublime conceptions of his art — But the familiar trifle by his side ! 'Tis a small key unlocks the human heart I * These vessels, Sir Gardner Wilkinson informs us are luuch inferior in workmansliip to those of the Ancient Egyptians themselves — THE Pyramid. 61 LXI. TT^ TERNAL rocks I that by the ocean stand, -^-^ The desert billows heaving at your feet, On your stern forms all vainly tho' they beat, How changed indeed the scene that ye command I Who now can trace upon the drifted sand Where stood vast Memphis, where illustrious On, Where princely Zoan ? for memorial none Marks the once mighty cities of the land ; Save where, as 'mid the mouldering mounds ye trace The ruins of a ruin, there is found One stately form laid prostrate on the ground.* (He may have thought of this who wrought that face Of calm serene.) Pause here, and look around; 'Twas here Nile left his course to give proud Mem- phis place. * Among the scarcely-distinguishable mounds that mark tlie site of IMempliis, there lies a majestic colossal statue of Remeses Ilnd, supposed to be one of those ■which stood before the temple of Vulcan. This statue, which Dr. Lepsius con- siders one of the finest specimens of Egyptian art, is the property of England. 62 The Shadow of A RT'S infant home, and learning's earliest "^ school, The World's great college, mj'stic wisdom's shrine, Seat of the King-priest's more than regal rule, Fair city of the sun ! and what of thine Remains to tell how glorious, how divine Thy temples rose ? one solitary stone, Surviving, a memorial and a sign. Still points to him for whom thy temples shone : * Pause here ! 'tis holy ground whereon we stand — The Virgin with her Offspring, when she fled From Herod's fury, laid her weary head Beneath yon reverend tree — f with gentle hand Ah ! touch these frail traditions — for they shed A ray round many a spot that else were drear and dead. * A solitary obelisk, standing in a smooth and cultivated plain, marks the site of Heliopolis, the On of Scripture, tlie school where JNIoses became learned in the wisdom of the Egyptians. t Near the neighbouring village of JMatarea, a sycamore is pointed out which is said to have sheltered the holy Family, on their flight into Egypt. THE Pyramid. ' 63 "VT" ET such scarce needed here — 'twas here there hung Darkness that might be felt, whose deadly dew Like heavy sweat on yon stern foreheads clung — Then deeper still as noontide shadows grew, Dread sounds were borne on every blast that blew — Then came forth evil angels among men. And fell on all a horror strange and new, Till Pharaoh's heart was humbled once agen — Priests ! to your altars — let the victims bleed ! Humbly entreat the glorious God of day — For surely Re he is a god indeed — Shine forth, great Re ! vouchsafe one pitying ray ! — In vain — a mightier hand is o'er his brow — Ah ! faltering priests — Where is your Sun-god now? 64 The Shadow of "\7'ET once again,* within his very shrine, In terras not e'en a heathen could raistake — Yon sun confessed, by one appalling sign, That Nature's Master suffered for man's sake. Reels the strong earth — the heavens in terror shake — The rocks are rent — stern darkness veils the skies — The spirits of the sainted dead awake, And from their trembling sepulchres arise. — All this is past — as water smooth and green. Earth has closed round — the billow's troubled swell Sleeps o'er the wreck at last, and none might tell Its place, but piercing thro' the deep serene, Yon, like a stately mast, stands forth to shew Where lies, perchance, a glorious spoil below. * It is somewliat remarkable that this city, the peculiar seat of the worship of the Sun, should be the scene of two extraordinary confessions of a superior power — the first, when at the command of J\Ioses, darkness overspread the land of Egypt, and the second when the darkness at the cruci- fixion was observed here by a heathen astronomer — Diony- sius the Areopagite. THE Pyramid. 65 LXV. A ND now let man's sublimest work appear, -*• -^ Of all his deeds, resembling God's the most : For see ! in silver lines along the coast, A living ocean sparkles bright and clear. Man's offspring nature has adopted here * To be her own, and taught it to obey Her voice ; it smiles with her when she is gay, And when her brow is knit in frown severe, Its bosom swells with a congenial rage : And she has clothed its native nakedness In the bright robes of her own family dress, Till, thus adopted, men in following age Look on it, and with many a learned guess, Dispute the question of its parentage. * The Birket-el-Keroon, thirty miles long by six or eight broad, is usually considered to be the ancient lake Moeris, the work of a monarch of that name ; and although M, Linant has written an ingenious treatise to prove that the lake Moeris occupied a different situation, still, as the Quarterly observes, a late posterity will connect the name of Moeris with the Birket-el-Keroon. jB6 The Shadow of LXVI. 'KTOW to the border of the desert plain I turn,and watch where just within the verge, Like seamen struggling in a choking surge, The trembling shrubs appear to stretch in vain Their hands towards the shore ; beyond again, Upon its shivering face the breezes play, And, like the ocean, spread its flying spray ; In all but life, it seems another main — In all but life ! — for 'tis a leprous spot On nature's lovely face ; her flesh is dead ! No veins the circulating life-blood spread ; The bloom of health, the tint of life is not ; And the mild glow that genial warmth sustains, On this doomed spot a scorching fever reigns. THE Pyramid. 67 LXVII. X7^ ET are there tender flowers, that far away In this lone desert gem the burning sand ; Even as if when Nature's bounteous hand Aimed for the silver stream, the meadow gay, Her gentle tokens, these few fell astray, And lighted on the wilderness. But not Were left forlorn to perish in their lot ; For, unsustained by earth, still, day by day, Like Israel in his weary wandering, God feeds them with the precious dew of heaven : But not, like Israel for the bounty given Unthankful ; still their incense do they bring. And he can tell the breath of praise from each, Though that sweet breath be moulded not to speech. 68 The Shadow of the Pyramid. TT^IEND of the desert, tremble ! for the hour Of thine abasement is approaching fast ; Another spirit with resistless power His chains of iron shall upon thee cast : In vain thy fierce Sirocco's deadly blast With raging fury shall the desert scour ; In vain shall shadowy lake and phantom bower Spread their enchantments as he dashes past ; The whitening bones shall mark the track no more That on his way the panting pilgrim guides. The Spirit, as on lightning wing he rides, Shall hurl thee his defiance, and the shore Where Pharaoh's chariot wheels drave heavily, Shall hear his laugh of scorn, his fiery footsteps NOTES. Sonnet I. ■ j^GYPT is truly called by Herodotus "the gift of -*-^ the Nile;" for in fact, the soil of Upper and Lower Egypt consists of the depositions of the Nile spread over the surface of the desert through which it flows, during successive inundations ; while the Delta may perhaps have been formed from the accumulation of the same deposits at its mouth. Pursuing his investigations upon these premises, and comparing the depth of a single deposit with that of the whole soil of Egypt, an ingenious Frenchman, M. de Rosiere, has found that the present stratum would take about three thousand five hundred years in forming, which corresponds with the date of the deluge according to the Septuagint; and he thereupon founds an opinion that the Nile has only pursued its present course since the deluge, and that consequently the land of Egypt had no existence previously to that event. But he appears entirely to have overlooked the simple circumstance that 70 Notes. whatever soil the Nile had previously deposited, would in all probability, have been stripped off by the action of the waters of the deluge ; for surely it is far more rea- sonable to suppose this to have been the case, than that the course of a mighty river like the Nile should have been so entirely changed. Thus, in an ingenious theory, is a simple and obvious fact sometimes overlooked. Sonnet XVI. rriHE Jews in Egypt amount in number to about five -*- thousand, and here as elsewhere, " sufferance is the badge of all their tribe." I cannot give a better illustration of the footing on which they are placed, than by quoting the following story from Lane's work on the Modern Egyptians — premising that the Pacha is well known for his freedom from bigotry and general even- handedness in administering justice. A Turkish soldier had received from a money-changer some Turkish coins called 'adleeyehs, at the rate of six- teen piasters each. On offering these in payment for some goods, the shop-keeper refused to allow more than fifteen piasters to the 'adleeyeh, stating that the Pacha had issued an order that the coin should no longer pass for sixteen. The soldier went back to the money-changer and demanded an additional piaster to each, which being refused, he complained to the Pacha, who ordered the money changer to be beheaded. The interpreter of Notes. 71 the court, moved with compassion, entreated the Pacha to spare his life, representing that the same thing was commonly done by the money-changers of Cairo, and that he had himself, only the day before, received 'adlee- yehs at the same rate from a Jew with whom he was in the habit of doing business. The Jew was sent for, and in spite of the earnest entreaties of the interpreter, con- demned to be hanged, while the more guilty Moslem was pardoned. Mr. Lane himself saw him hanging from the grated window of a mosque, and as he hung so close to it that he was enabled partially to rest his feet upon the lower bars, his sufferings were cruelly protracted. He was a man much respected by all who knew him • but, though his friends offered large sums for his pardon, tlie only favour they could purchase was that of having his face turned towards the window, so as not to be seen by the passers-by. Ibrahftn Pacha, however, since his visit to Europe, has displayed an unwonted toleration to this unfortunate people, and has announced his determination to extend an equal protection to every sect of religion. Sonnet XX. •THHE dimensions of the mummy of a female having -*■ been found to correspond with those of the Venus de Medicis at Florence, the ancient inhabitants of Egypt have been by some writers supposed to have been of 72 Notes. Caucasian descent ; but most inconclusively ; for among the Nubians and Abyssinians (not to mention many of the Arabs) are to be found as fine forms as in any part of the world. Indeed both Nubians and Abyssinians have been considered by some authorities to resemble in their personal characteristics, the ancient Egyptians more nearly than the Copts, their more immediate descendants. I have been struck, on seeing the Abyssinians in the slave-market at Cairo, with the appropriateness of Moore's description of the Egyptian as applied to them. " Though darken'd by that sun whose spirit flows Through every vein, and tinges as it goes, 'Tis but the embrowning of the fruit, which tells How rich within the soul of ripeness dwells." Sonnet XL. ^T^HE various theories which have been propounded -*■ on the purpose and destination of the pyramids, would, if collected, make a very formidable volume. Some of these are so palpably absurd as to make us wonder how any one, having the slightest acquaintance with the subject, could have conceived them. Such, for instance; as that of their being granaries for corn, or places of refuge in the event of another deluge; when they are solid masses, or nearly so : and that of their being intended for observatories, when tliere were no Notes. 73 means of ascent to their summits. A scarcely less ab- surd supposition was that they were intended for stand- ards of measure. One who would waste the resources of his kingdom, and incur the hatred of his subjects for such an object as this, would indeed " Resemble ocean into tempest wrought To waft a feather or to drown a fly." The latest theory I have seen is that of a Frenchman, M. Fialin de Persigny (See Athenaeum, July 24, 1845), who on the strength of some experiments with a pair of bellows and pyramids made with cards, supposes these enormous structures to have been erected as barriers to protect the cultivated valley of the Nile from the sands of the desert. The researches of Col. Howard Vyse and others, have however, proved, I think beyond a doubt, the correctness of the account given by Herodotus and other ancient historians, that they are the tombs of kings, viz. of Cheops, Cephrenes and Mycerinus ; and the causes that we may suppose to have led to their con- struction are discussed in the following note. Sonnet XLII. ^THHE Ancient Egyptians were believers in the doctrine of transmigration, and held that the soul after death existed in the forms of various animals for a period of three thousand years, at the end of which time it returned L 74 XOTES. to its former habitation. But, unable to receive the mys- terious doctrine of the resurrection of the dust, they con- sidered it essential that the body should be preserved in a perfect form for the reception of its former inmate when its period of probation was ended. It became necessary, therefore, to secure it not only from the decay of nature, but also from the various casualties to which malice or accident might expose it. As a protection against the former, this extraordinary people had recourse to the in- genious expedient of embalming their dead; and as a de- fence against the latter, those wonderful structures were erected, many of which still remain, after the lapse of more than three thousand years, to attest the energy and skill with which they wrestled with the phantom they themselves had conjured up. Of these the most cele- brated are the three pyramids of Gizeh, constructed with gigantic strength to defend, and intricate skill to conceal, the remains of those intrusted to their care. " Fool," exclaims Carlyle in his Sartor Resartus, *' why journeyest thou wearisomely, in thine antiquarian fervor, to gaze on the stone pyramids of Gizeh that stand there, idle and inert, looking over the desert, foolishly enough, for the last three thousand years ? " Why ? To look upon Man's first fearful mistrust of his Creator — his first giant efforts to walk the paths of eternity alone ! " Foolish " if they look, they are a sight to make men wise. From the above view of the doctrines of the Ancient Egyptians, would follow the startling consequence, that Notes. 75 the possessor of a mummy would be master of a fellow-creature, body and soul; and such would seem to have been their opinion, for we learn that they were sometimes in the habit, as a last and most sacred deposit, of pledging the bodies of their relations, and these they considered themselves bound by the most solemn obliga- tions to redeem. — See Sir Gardner Wilkinsori f. Manners and Customs of' the Ancient Egi/ptinns. Finis. C. WHirriN'GHAM, CHISWICK. A V ,^'^.. :h