That which we know to have been true of the latter Romans, and of the nominal Christian nations of medieval Europe, we must not hastily assume to be inconceivable of the older race of Egypt. The progress which that wonderful people had made in arts and science, while yet the nations of Europe existed only in the scattered nomades that chance or necessity drove from their eastern homes, confers on their history, the chief interest with which we still regard it. It cannot be questioned that the Greeks derived from them the rudiments of their noblest arts,—of their geometry, of their poetical mythology, and even of their refined philosophy. To the great mass of the people, however, the theology of Egypt must have proved, like every other system of idolatry, a vain and degrading superstition. It is easy for the intelligent scholar to perceive poetry and beauty in the Egyptian depictions of the final judgment of the dead, which is sculptured on the temples and tombs, and even frequently painted on the coffins and mummy cases. There he sees pictured the recording deity, the presiding Osiris, the awful balance, and the soul weighed with its deeds against the divine standard of right. All this seems the embodiment of a noble though imperfect conception of human responsibility and final retribution. But how vain must the practical efficacy of such doctrines have been when cumbered with all the endless complications of the Egyptian Pantheon :—ram-headed, snake-headed, catheaded, and crocodile-headed gods,-spirits of good and of evil of the grossest and most contradictory kinds! Doubtless a vast amount of knowledge, well worthy of the utmost labour to recover, was familiar to the old priesthood of Egypt, and, in part at least, awaits the disclosures of the students of hieroglyphics. But the momentous truths of religion rest on a surer basis, and we may be well content to believe that no researches amid the graven records in the valley of the Nile, will

change the aspect of that "life and immortality" which is brought to light in the gospel.

On this subject Dr. Russell has justly remarked, in the introduction to his "Ancient and Modern Egypt:" “There is nothing more remarkable in its history than that the same people who distinguished themselves by an early progress in civilization, and who erected works which have survived the conquests of Persia, the triumphs of Roman art, and all the architectural labours of Christianity, should have degraded their fine genius by the worship of four-footed beasts, and even of disgusting reptiles. The world does not present a more humbling contrast between the natural powers of intellect and the debasing effect of superstition. Among the Jews, on the other hand,—a people much less elevated by science and mechanical knowledge,—we find a sublime system of theology, and a ritual which, if not strictly entitled to the appellation of a reasonable service, was yet comparatively pure in its ordinances, and still farther refined by a lofty and spiritual import. It has been said of the Hebrews, that they were men in religion, and children in every thing else. This observation may be reversed in the case of the Egyptians; for, while in the greater number of those pursuits which give dignity to the human mind, and perpetuate the glories of civilized life, they made a progress which set all rivalry at defiance,—in their notions and adoration of the invisible powers who preside over the destinies of man, they manifested the imbecility, the ignorance, and the credulity of childhood."

While recognising the justice of these remarks, the singular illustration of the Egyptian ideas of death and judgment, which we have alluded to above, is well worthy of minute investigation. Few, indeed, of the relics of their ancient builders, which the ruined temples and tombs of Egypt have preserved to us, are more worthy of study; for in this singular exposition of Egyptian faith,

we recognise a perverted image of truths, doubtless, traditionally derived from the preaching of Noah, and the divine knowledge which the patriarch sought to impart to his descendants. Amid all that may seem to us unintelligible or grotesque, we still detect, beyond a doubt, the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, and of final retribution. It is a scene frequently painted and figured, not only on the temples and tombs, but also on the coffins and mummy cases. Osiris, the judge of the dead, appears seated on his throne, attended by Isis and Nepthys. The most prominent object invariably represented in the scene is the balance and scales, in which the actions of the deceased are to be weighed, reminding us most forcibly of the interpretation by Daniel, of the mysterious writing on the wall of the Babylonian palace: "Thou art weighed in the balance and found wanting." Anubis the jackall-headed deity presides over the balance, watching its ascending and descending scale, from which he is styled "Director of the Weight." His office in the Egyptian mythology was to superintend the passage of the soul from this life to a future state. He is frequently introduced in the sculptures standing over the bier on which a corpse or mummy is laid; and though to the Egyptian he thus represented the presiding angel, attending the soul on its departure from the earthly tabernacle, it is difficult to conceive that the idea of such a monstrous-looking angel of death invisibly present by the bed of the dying, could fail to add to the terrors of that closing scene, illuminated by no brighter hopes than those of the Egyptian creed.

Herein, indeed, lies the 'difference between the Christian religion and all other creeds. "The wayfaring man, though a fool cannot err therein." The philosophers of Greece and Rome, laughed at the silly fables of their own gods and goddesses, or at best beheld in them the mystic symbol of spiritual conceptions, and emblems of the

genial changes of nature. But to the great mass of the people the doctrine was a degrading and enslaving idolatry. It is Christianity alone that leaves the proud and the wise to wander in their own vain speculations, while the humblest believer finds no mystery in the simplicity of the gospel,

"Heaven's easy, artless, unincumbered plan."

Returning, however, to the description of the oft repeated Egyptian picture of the judgment scene, and its monstrous officiating deities, it is obvious that it occupied a most prominent place in the popular creed, and most probably had no inconsiderable share in exciting the motives for the preservation of the body after death, which led to the singular national practice of embalming. The deceased Egyptian is conducted to judgment by the god Horus, and Anubis places on one of the awful balances a vase supposed to contain his good actions, while in the other is seen the emblem of truth, usually a representative of Thmè or Thmèi, the goddess of truth, which was also worn on the Judicial breastplate, and is supposed by Gliddon, the Egyptian traveller, to have suggested the form and remarkable symbolism of the Jewish high priest's breastplate. Thoth, the ibis-headed god, represents the recording angel, standing by the balance with tablet and style in his hand, ready to write down the results of the impartial judgment. If the result is such that the deceased is weighed in the balance and not "found wanting," he is then seen introduced by Horus to Osiris, by whom he is dismissed with favour, and conducted by his guide to the mansions of the blessed, over the gate of which Cerberus is generally represented seated. But if the actions of the deceased cannot abide this solemn judgment, the soul is then condemned to return to the world under the form of a pig or some other unclean animal, and is seen borne back to earth in this degraded form, being generally ferried across the river of death, to the world of life, where he had pursued his

Ꮮ

sinful career, by a crew of baboons. The doctrine of the Egyptians taught them to believe in a system of transmigration, somewhat analogous to parts of the singular creed still maintained by the Hindoos. The soul returned to earth as a punishment for "the deeds done in the flesh," and after passing through many changes, and enduring long degradation and suffering, it was at length permitted to resume the human form, and reappear at the judgment seat to be again tried by the dread Osiris. In this as in so many other heathen creeds we can detect many elements manifestly derived from the pure source of Divine revelation; we can even in many of them detect ideas not only of retribution but of atonement. But the real nature of all is

the same. Their final elements are not productive of hope but of gloom and terror, and in the purest of them we look in vain for the doctrine of Divine atonement, which gives to Christianity its noblest element of assured hope, and consistently justifies the ways of God to man.

No ruins of Ancient Egypt surpass, either in remarkable character or interesting associations, those of Ancient Thebes. Wilkinson remarks of this extensive city, when describing its varied features: "The time of its foundation still remains, like that of Memphis, the capital of Lower Egypt, enveloped in that obscurity which is the fate of all the most ancient cities; but probability favours the conjecture, that though Menes, the first king of Egypt, found it in the humble condition of an infant capital, its foundation will date several generations before the accession of that monarch to the throne of his native country.

"The most ancient remains now existing at Thebes are unquestionably in the great temple of Karnak, the largest and most splendid ruin of which perhaps either ancient or modern times can boast, being the work of a number of successive monarchs, each anxious to surpass his predecessor by increasing the dimensions and proportions of the part he added. It is this fact which enables us to