Ancient Egypt was famous for its temples and its tombs, the majesty and grandeur of which remain unrivaled to this day. Amongst these perhaps the pyramids are best known. Three are of vast size, and the greatest of them is a solid mass of stonework. The sides of this mighty structure were originally covered with great polished stones, so admirably fitted together that they presented a perfectly smooth surface from base to crown. These glorious stones have been removed, so that with them modern buildings might be erected. Yet the spoiler’s hand has hardly affected the size of the great structure, which casts its broad shadow, like that of a mountain, across the desert.
This wonderful mass of stone stood in grim and solemn silence for centuries, commanding the world’s wonder, and holding within itself the secret of its existence. Was it a witness to mysteries? Was it but a tomb? That it is a tomb there can be no question; and there can be but little doubt that it was once used as an observatory, controlled by priests, who foretold to the king, by the movements of the stars, the mystery of his life.
The great object of the wealthy of Egypt was to build a tomb that would last at least to that time when, according to the period assigned by the priests, the departed soul should be reunited to the body. And as it was considered fatal to the felicity of the dead that the body should be injured, it was mummified, and afforded a rock-fortress for its habitation. Such tombs grew to be huge palaces for the dead. The halls and chambers were ornamented by sculptors and painters, stored with articles of taste, and enriched with jewels and treasures. The soul of the departed was supposed to pay visits to the habitation of the body, and to enjoy itself in the midst of the representations of the life which had been loved on earth. Never before nor since, did man build such a tomb as the great pyramid; yet it has been rifled, and the king who rested there has been cast out from his “eternal habitation.”
Close to the pyramids, half buried in the desert sand, stands the Sphinx. For hundreds of years its mysterious head watched men come and go to return no more. It became a byword for mystery. But basket and spade, about a generation ago, cleared away the sand around the head, and brought to view the lion which forms its body. What meant this grand symbol of united strength and wisdom? It is carved out of a mass of living rock, and forms part of a mighty group of buildings collected round the pyramids. The Sphinx is the embodiment of a religious idea, possibly of different religious ideas. It was a figure of light conquering darkness, of the soul triumphing over death. It was the emblem of “the sun at its rising.” Wisdom and strength waited through the night with mighty calm, and anticipated the coming light. There is a noble conception in the figure, and one that Scripture itself presents as realized, through the pen of the prophet Ezekiel, when the cherubim with the lion’s and the human head shall adorn the temple of Jehovah.
We may well wish that the sand of the desert over which the Sphinx looked as conqueror, but which has now conquered the gardens surrounding it, burying the vast pavement over which it originally stood, could be thrown back, so that we might once more see the broad steps which the worshippers ascended as they approached the altar between its feet, when the incense offering arose to the rising sun!
Adjoining the pyramids and the Sphinx, in ancient days, a great part of the wealth and glory of Egypt was centered. Here towered up mighty palaces and cities surrounded with trees and well-watered gardens; here armies assembled, and the pride of the greatest of the nations expressed itself in religious pomp. Instead of its present pall of desert sand, sweet-scented gardens bloomed; and in the place of the ruins which Egyptologists love, power and glory dwelt.
Will the reader turn to the map on page 101, and in imagination stand among the pyramids? Here is the very heart of that part of Egypt which witnessed the miracles of Moses. Mighty Memphis, with its bull worship, adorns the rich Nile, ever flowing past its far-famed white wall. Ancient On, its obelisks towering to the sun of its worship, and its colleges of worldwide repute, rests in its stateliness but a few miles down the river. Further off is the plain of Zoan, weighted with huge colossi of Pharaoh, abounding in the costliest of temples erected to the glory of Egypt’s gods and to the greater glory of its kings; it resounds with the roar of the wheels of war chariots, and laughs to scorn all powers of heaven and earth save those which are its own. Lying among the hills are the tents of Goshen and of Succoth, the abodes of pastoral Israel, whose sons, branded with the name of the Egyptian god, slowly pile up the costly granite which forms the city of Rameses, and swiftly build the brick granaries of Pithom. They smell the scented air of well-watered gardens, they hear the echoes of Egypt’s gay singers, and they groan out their hardships and their miseries to the silence of their God.
The temples innumerable of Upper Egypt, even in their ruins, proclaim the strength of the builders. The men who conceived such erections, and who carried them out, were no ordinary human beings. We select from these temples one as illustrating this chapter. It is the rock-hewn temple of Abu Simbel, cut out of the solid cliffs upon the banks of the river of Egypt.
The most ancient of the pyramids was erected before the time of Abraham; the temple Abu Simbel was made about the time of Moses. If the secret of the great pyramid be buried within it, the story of this temple is written upon its face. What are those huge figures? Why are they so gigantic? They are men – men known and recognized as powers that be, to whom all must give glory. If sun worship be the mystery of the Sphinx, man worship is written plainly in these colossi. The pompous procession on the river, the crowds of people who enter the temple, pass under the very feet of Pharaoh. His feet are higher than the heads of the people, his image towers above all.
These colossi are now in part broken, but our artist has restored the figures to their original form; and the river and its banks, now comparatively silent, he has filled with the vessels and the life of olden days. As we gaze upon the scene he has depicted, we have before us the idea of the greatness of the kingdom of Upper Egypt, even as, when we imagined the pyramids and the Sphinx in their glory, we had before us the idea of the wonders of the kingdom of Lower Egypt.
The head of one of these colossi is broken off: Upon the legs of one of them is a writing in Phoenician characters: “While Abd-Ptah, the son of Itar, was present, that which struck this door was the violence of Ptah, who launches the thunderbolt.”
There are no buildings in the world to equal those of ancient Egypt in grandeur, and no colors anywhere more perfectly blended than those of their pictures, and certainly none so permanent. We might imagine one of their mighty dead rising up out of his glass case in a European museum, and looking around and smiling with contempt on the greatest works of our modern architects and engineers, artists and sculptors.
It was customary to employ both Egyptians, slaves, and malefactors upon the public works. The peasants were also called off from their legitimate labor to assist the nobles, or the king, in their great undertakings, and when the king was tyrannical, thousands of lives were sacrificed over the construction of temples, canals and lakes.
The business of building was carried on with precision; taskmasters were set awes the workmen, and scribes were appointed to write down the amount of work done, so that no evasion of duty was possible.
The familiar picture above, taken from a wall-painting, shows us a number of men, harnessed together two and two in four columns, dragging the rude sledge upon which a great image or colossus of stone is bound with ropes. Upon this colossus stands a man (fig. 2) clapping his hands to regulate the movement of the laborers, who drag the mighty mass along to the sound of a chant or song. Another man (fig. 3) is offering incense to the gods. A third (fig. 4) is busy upon the platform of the sledge pouring out a libation before it. Three men (fig. 9) carry pots of water for the use of the man on the platform, and three men (fig. 10) behind them bring implements to assist the work. In another part of the wall-painting are to be seen the taskmasters with their rods, and also companies of soldiers with their weapons. This picture explains better than words how Pharaoh’s work was done.