growing excited--"who ever saw anything so wicked as to dupe a
married man, the father of children, ruin him, pull down his house,
and murder his wife by inches! And this is known and permitted! I
tell you, such a thing sinks deep!"

"Yes, it is worse than stabbing with a knife," exclaimed one woman.

"It cries to God!" added another.

"It is a scandal of the monstrous kind," proceeded the first.
"Poor Ana, though I did not see much of her, I loved her well.
Almond-paste is not milder than she was, and as meek and free from
malice as a sheep in the hands of the butcher. O men! men! There is a
curse on them that pull their clothes on over their feet; and that is
the reason our dear Lord would not wear breeches, but always dressed
in a tunic."

"Come, daughter," said Aunt Maria, "nothing is mended by malediction,
nor by spitting out the quinine. Let us pray for the soul of the
departed, for that is what will really benefit her."

These words were the signal for complete silence. Aunt Maria took her
rosary, the rest following her example, and, after saying the act
of contrition and a solemn credo, proceeded to recite the rosary of
souls, repeating three times after the Paternoster, and instead of
the Hail Mary,

      "O Lord, by thy infinite mercy,"

the others answering in chorus,

      "Grant to the souls of the faithful departed peace and glory."

Nothing was now heard in the mourning room of the women but the grave
murmur of the prayers and suppressed sighs of pity and sorrow.

The other parlor presented a very different spectacle. The widower,
serene as a glass of water, and cool as a fresh lettuce, now that
the day of the burial had passed, considered himself dispensed from
the attitude of mourning, and smoked, listening and talking to all,
just as usual, as if death had entered his house and departed without
leaving either trace or impression of his awful presence.

The indifferent ones followed his example, so that, had not all worn
cloaks, no one would have supposed that this was a condolement,
a tribute of love and respect to a life that had ended, and of
sympathy with an overwhelming sorrow. The only figure that appeared
to be in harmony with the object of the reunion was that of a boy
thirteen years old, the son of the deceased, who sat near his father
with his elbows resting on his knees, and his face buried in his
hands, weeping inconsolably.

"What kind of day has it been?" asked the widower.

"Unhealthy," answered one.

"And the sky?"

"Patched; I think the rain is not far off. There was fog this
morning, and 'fog is the rain's sponsor and the sun's neighbor.'"

"The wind will soon sweep the cobwebs from the sky," said a third,
"for it blows from sunset side. The rain is shyer than sixpences."

"No matter," answered the first, "last year it did not rain till All
Saints; and a better year, or another of the same piece, hasn't been
seen since the creation. Laborers, farmers, and tenants all got tired
of gathering, and had more than enough--the barley, in particular,
grew so thick that you couldn't set a spade between the blades."

"The month of January is the key of the year. If the sky does not
open in January, there will be no harvest."

"Hola! Uncle Bartolo!" all exclaimed, as a small, vigorous old man
entered the apartment. "Where do you hail from? where have you been
ever since we missed you from here?"

Uncle Bartolo, after offering to the mourner the usual condolences,
seated himself, and, turning toward his interrogators, replied:

"Where do I come from? The district of Doñana, without varying from
the most direct line. Since the French war ended, and I took the
road, I have been water-carrier[163] to the _You Sirs_.[164] They
have them there in Doñana of all complexions--legitimate, grafted,
cross-breed, and supposititious, even English. _Caballeros!_ Deliver
us; but those Swiss of the French are the ones! Stout fellows;
very white; very ruddy; very fair-haired, and very puffy. But as
to spirit, they have no more than they drink; and grace, they have
not any. They carry their arms like the sleeves of a capote, and
set their feet down like pestles. Whenever I saw those feet that
resembled _jabeques_,[165] I used to say to myself,

      'A good foot and good ear
      Signs of a good beast are.'

For talking, they make use of a kind of jargon that, in my opinion,
they themselves don't understand. These parleys that I don't
comprehend displease me, for I never know whether I am being bought
or sold.

"There was one--the size of a tunny-fish--they called Don 'Turo.[166]
He fell to me. To see him blowing and sweating over those sands made
one pity him, for a league finishes them; the sun offends them; the
heat makes them weak, and dissolves them entirely. That platter face
would persist in doing everything contrariwise, as they do it in his
country. Once he took it into his head to use my clasp-knife to eat
with, and cut himself. With that he got out a medicine-chest as big
as a surgeon's. 'Go along!' said I to myself, 'a spider bit me, and
I bound the wound up in a sheet.' He was as hard-headed as a corner.
Another time he made up his mind that he ought to shoot a partridge,
and, though I told him it was against the law to shoot partridges at
that season, he fired, and would have fired if his father had stood
before the mouth of his gun. He fired and killed an urraca.[167]
'Sir,' said I, 'what has your honor done?' Says he to me, 'Killed
the partridge.' 'Why, sir, it isn't a partridge, it's an urraca.'
'It's all right,' said the big bungler, quite composedly. 'But it
is not right,' answered I; 'the killing of urracas is prohibited.'
'And who prohibits it?' he asked, putting on his face of a lion. 'I
have my license, that cost me three thousand reals.' 'But, sir, that
is for large game--you understand? The urracas mustn't be killed.
You comprehend?' Says he to me, 'In this country of _Santísima
María_'--for, as I have told you already, he said everything
reversed, as they do in his--'in this country there's no end of
privileges, and do the very urracas have them?'

"That question was so foolish, or else meant to be ironical, that
I didn't care to set him right; so I told him, 'Yes, privileges
that were granted to them in very ancient times, by _Doña Urraca_
herself.' He took out a blank-book and wrote that down. 'Let the ball
roll,' said I in my jacket, 'it isn't my business to stop it.'"

"But, Uncle Bartolo, why may they not kill urracas in the district?"
asked a young man.

"Because they are the ones that planted the pine woods," answered
Uncle Bartolo.

"Oh! none of that! you are not talking to platter-face," replied the
youth.

"So I perceive, since his swallow for novelties was too big; and
you--for a blockhead of those who believe only what they see--haven't
any. Nevertheless, sir, that the urracas do plant the pines is a
truth as evident as a house. They open the ripe cones, and pick out
the seeds for food. Being very saving birds, they bury those that
they can't eat; and, being very brainless ones, they forget all
about it and never go back to look for them; and the seeds sprout.
If it were not true, why would the dukes prohibit the killing of
urracas, when they are thicker in the district than sparrows on a
threshing-floor? Therefore, Alonso, no one may say, 'This camel can't
enter the eye of my needle'; for, of two silly birds, the one that
always keeps his bill shut is more silly than the one that has his
always open. But you were a dunce from the beginning; and, as you
grow older, you are gaining upon Blas, that ate horse-beans."

"And at night, uncle, what did those people do with themselves there
in the province?" asked the listeners.

"The Englishmen ate and drank, for their honors are made hollow,
in order that they may always be putting things into their mouths.
That is the reason they are so fat and big. Platter-face told me one
day--with an air as if God had just revealed it to him--that I was
able to go so long without getting tired because I was lean; and that
he would give a thousand dollars, or some such sum, to be as lean as
I. I answered--shouting to make him understand better--'Your worship
has only to eat _gazpacho_[168] to dry up your flesh, and raw onions
and garlic to sharpen your senses."

"And the Spaniards--how did they pass the evenings, Uncle Bartolo?"

"The Spaniards? Talking through the very stitches of their garments;
bawling till you would have thought they were echoes: and quarrelling
about things of the government. For, nowadays, everybody wants to
know everything himself, and to command: the very beetles set up
their tails and complain of a cough. I tell you, sirs, there are no
more such Spaniards as there were in the time of the French war. We
were as one man then, and all of one mind. Now there are moderates
and _extremists_. I, who am an _extremist_ only when it concerns my
gun, my wife, and my children, could wish the devil would fly away
with so much gab. It made me want to say to them: 'Gentlemen, where
there is less tongue, count on more judgment,' and 'so much grass
chokes the wheat.'"

"One night, one of the _You Sirs_ called me, and wanted to know if
I was in the war against Napoleon. 'Yes, sir,' I answered, 'I was a
guerilla.' 'Well, then,' said he, 'you just come here, for I am going
to read you the will he made.'"

"What! did that man make a will, Uncle Bartolo?" asked some of the
oldest of the listeners.

"Yes, and before he died, it is supposed.

"'But, your worship,' I asked, 'what had that kingdom-thief to give
away? Did they not then make him throw up everything he had taken?'

"The _You Sir_ had an open book, and began to read. Gentlemen, that
_soccarron_,[169] in his will, went on distributing everything, his
goods, his arms, his body, and his heart. I was perplexed. 'Well,
what do you think of it, uncle?' said his honor, when he had ended.
'Sir,' I answered, 'from what I can see, that unbeliever thought of
everything; but neither in his life nor in his death did he remember
his soul.'"

"Why did you join the guerillas, Uncle Bartolo?" asked one of the
company.

"What a question!" exclaimed the guerilla, looking at the one who
had asked it, and weaving himself backwards and forwards with much
composure.

"'He that asks does not err,' Uncle Bartolo."

"Yes, but this is a case of 'He that asks does not err, and I ask if
they bury the dead with the deceased?'"

"What I mean is, when did you leave your house, and how did you
happen to fall in with the _partida_?"[170]

"Ya! those are other questions, Lopez. Some French horsemen came
here--they call them _colaseros_ (cuirassiers)--my wife was more
afraid of them than of a contagion, and every time she heard the
clarionets, she would say to me, in a fright, 'They are sounding
the charge.' 'No, wife,' I would tell her, 'they are sounding
the _premonition_.' One day the cornet--they used to call him
_Trompi_--came in tipsy, and insulted my wife. I, who was not
afraid of any three that might come, and never stopped to think of
consequences, said to him, 'Out of here, little soul of a pitcher,
and Barabbas cut a slice from you!' With that he drew his sword,
and would have cut me, but I snatched my knife, and finished him at
once; and then, catching up mantle and blanket, took the wind for the
mountains. I stopped in Benamahoma with the Padre Lovillo--and there
you have it all."

"The Padre Lovillo was the captain of the partida?" questioned a
youth.

"Yes, the Padre Lovillo. _Candela!_ That was a man you could call
a man! No talker--not he; but the words he used were few and good.
If any one wanted to brag of his doings, he would say, 'Let them be
seen, not heard. You understand, cackler? Stabs with steel, not with
the tongue; balls of lead, not of wind.' Sirs, that man was ready for
everything, as you would have declared with two tongues if you had
had them. When we were going to attack the French, he used to say,
'Listen, sons, our fathers died for their country, and we are not to
be less than they.' Then, drawing his sword, he would shout, '_Now_
let us see who has pluck!' and charge like another Santiago,[171] and
we after him, as if he had led us to Paris in France. We felt neither
hunger nor weariness; it was a fight without drum or trumpet, but
it made the Frenchmen shiver. They named us the '_Briganes_[172] of
the Black Mountain,' and were more afraid of us than of the trained
soldiery.

"Don 'Turo, who knew that I had been a _brigan_, called me into the
parlor one evening, and, when he had squeezed himself into a chair,
told me to sit down. I began to wonder where all these Masses were
going to end.[173] Surely, I thought, he cannot want me to clean his
gun! But I waited for the mountain to bring forth, and presently he
asked me to explain the _trafica_[174] of guerilla fighting. When I
saw him come out with that ladder, I got angry, and told him, 'No;'
that my pronouncing was very bad, and his understanding worse. But
all the others insisted, and, not to seem disobliging, I repeated a
very good and well-versed poem, that was going the rounds then."

"And what was it about, Uncle Bartolo?"

"It relates a conversation between Malapart[175] and that Indian,
_Munrá_, Duke of _Ver_."[176]

"Go on, uncle, say it," exclaimed all present.

The following romance, which the old guerilla recited, was very
popular at that time among the people. It owes its humor to the fact
that neither its unlettered composer, nor those who recited it, had
any suspicion that they were giving a caricature. They considered
it a simple and probable account of what would take place between
Napoleon and Murat when they saw their last troops vanquished. Even
the conclusion is in no way inconsistent with their ideas of the
antecedents and characters of the personages:

        _Nap._ How is this, friend _Munrá_!
      Why are you here again?
      Why have you left your capital?
      What sent you out of Spain?
      Speak on, and don't delay;
      We have no time to spare;
      Tell me, in terms exact,
      What has happened there.

        _Mur._ Easy, sir, if you please;
      Sire, do not press me so;
      Only let me get breath,
      I'll tell you what I know.
      But, first, send for a chair,
      That some rest we may take
      While I tell you the tale,
      For, indeed, my legs ache.

        _Nap._ Right, for you have grown fat,
      And glad am I to see
      Proof that the airs of Spain
      So well with you agree.

        _Mur._ Sire, you are mistaken;
      But let the matter go,
      For things of more account
      Your majesty should know.
      And, come to what must come,
      Without any more ado--
      For, believe me or not, sire,
      All I tell you is true.

        _Nap._ Why, what has happened now?
      Good Heavens, man, speak out!
      What have you seen in Spain
      To put you so about?

        _Mur._ Great Emperor of France,
      Your force has been in vain;
      Nor did flatteries avail--
      You cannot conquer Spain.
      No notice will they take
      Of your promises of pay,
      And peace, and rank to all,
      And bull-fights every day.

        _Nap._ But, my soldiers, do not they
      In the mountains still remain?

        _Mur._ Yes, captives they remain
      With their general, _Dupon_,
      And the eagles of France;
      And every sword and gun
      Might as well be a distaff,
      For Castaños and his men
      Have settled their account.

        _Nap._ _Peste!_ Because you tell it,
      The tale I must believe;
      From another I would not
      A word of it receive.
      No doubt, in Zaragoza
      Our cause has better speed,
      In humbling them at last
      We surely must succeed.

        _Mur._ All your force is useless;
      The knaves will not submit.
      If you wish to lose France,
      And make an end of it,
      Send it to Zaragoza,
      It will find a bloody tomb,
      And remain there, buried,
      Until the Day of Doom.

        _Nap._ Can nothing, then, be done
      With those troops of Arragon?

        _Mur._ We have none that on them
      Will venture to advance.

        _Nap._ But Moncey's triumphant
      In the kingdom of Valence?

        _Mur._ Sire, he has dropped his ears,
      And slunk away, ashamed;
      Those Valencians have a way
      Their enemies to tame.
      They mount on swiftest steeds,
      And, running a swift career,
      Unhorse the astonished foe
      Before he is aware.

        _Nap._ It seems, then, that maxims,
      And lying, and caution
      Have failed in that country;
      But who had a notion
      That Spain would be equal
      To France in a contest?
      We now can do nothing
      But send for Funest.[177]

        _Mur._ And how can he get here,
      When the Portuguese men,
      With the Spaniards united,
      Have him closely shut in,
      With sentinels stationed?
      No help can avail him,
      For surrender he must,
      When eatables fail him.
      The best thing to do, is
      To yield to their clamor,
      And give back the king
      That Spaniards all honor.
      Perhaps, sire, if--with him
      Appeased and delighted--
      They will let our troops go,
      Your throne may be righted;
      For upset it they will
      At the rate they are making,
      And cut off your head,
      And from me be taking
      My fine dukedom of _Ver_;
      Or, if we escape, sire,
      The fate I am dreading.
      We'll have to sweep chimneys
      Again for a living.
      I've forgotten the trade,
      And lost my dexterity;
      But you, who were master,
      Would mount with celerity.

        _Nap._ Only a pitiful knave
      Such memories would renew.

        _Mur._ Well, sire, if that don't suit,
      I've another thing in view;
      We'll seek a brighter sphere,
      And a foreign city find,
      Where through the streets we'll rove,
      Crying "Sci-i-issors to gri-ind."

"And which did he do, uncle?" asked one--"sweep chimneys or grind
scissors?"

"_He sweep chimneys!_" exclaimed Uncle Bartolo. "Such people always
fall into feather-beds! They carried him to St. Helena--beyond
Gibraltar--where he had it quite comfortable till he died raving,
after the devil had helped him to make that will."

"Here comes Uncle Cohete," said a man who sat by the window.

"Make him a sign to come in," said the person nearest him, in a low
tone.

Uncle Cohete was a simple, good old man, who acted the merry-andrew
for the purpose of obtaining alms for a religious house of which
he was _demandante_.[178] He could mimic to perfection the songs
of all birds; the near and distant barking of the dog, the mewing
of the cat; and so excelled in imitating the peculiar hiss and
crackling of a kite in the air, as to have obtained the nickname of
_cohete_ (kite), by which he was known. He had, besides, a stock of
simple verses, ballads, riddles, and odd scraps of humor, which he
would repeat with inimitable expression and drollery. The sources
from which he drew his supplies could not be told. This, he had
learned in a town on the Llanura; that, in a village of the Sierra;
another at the fireside of the manse. But, in his mimicry of the
birds, they themselves had been the teachers, aided by unusual
flexibility of organs, and great patience and perseverance on the
part of the disciple. For, in all branches--whether important or
insignificant--perseverance yields great results.

It having been intimated to Uncle Cohete that the company wished him
to tell something diverting, he began by saying _The Commandments of
the Rich Man and the Poor Man_--a collection of ironical precepts,
which enjoyed great popularity at that time--as follows:

    "The commandments of the rich man, nowadays, are five,
    namely:

    "The first. Thou shalt have no end of money.

    "The second. Thou shalt despise all the rest of the
    world.

    "The third. Thou shalt eat good beef and good mutton.

    "The fourth. Thou shalt eat flesh on Good Friday.

    "The fifth. Thou shalt drink both white wine and red.

      "These commandments are included in two:
      Let all be for me, and nothing for you.

    "The commandments of the poor man are five, namely:

    "The first. Thou shalt never have any money.

    "The second. Thou shalt be despised by all the world.

    "The third. Thou shalt eat neither beef nor mutton.

    "The fourth. Thou shalt fast, even if it be not Good
    Friday.

    "The fifth. Thou shalt taste neither the white wine nor
    the red.

      "These commandments are included in two:
      Scratch thyself, and bear everything for the love of God."

"Uncle, did not the son of _Roba-Santos_[179] who is heaping money,
give you an alms?" asked one.

"No, he gave me nothing," answered Uncle Cohete.

"Like father, like son," said Uncle Bartolo.

"Next year, uncle, you will get a pile, for 'when the fields have,
the saints have.'"

"Uncle Cohete, take these two coppers, and tell us _The Commandments
of the New Law_," said the man who had called him in:

    "The commandments of the new law are ten, namely:

    "The first. Let there be no money in Spain.

    "The second. Let the world turn upside-down.

    "The third. Let every one play gentleman.

    "The fourth. Let not a single copper come from America.

    "The fifth. Let there be no end of drafting.

    "The sixth. Let the new law come from abroad.

    "The seventh. Let there be fewer people that are not
    wanted.

    "The eighth. Let them distribute biscuits in Navarra.

    "The ninth. Let every one look out for himself.

    "The tenth. Let all be at variance.

      "These commandments are included in two:
      Some say yes, and others say no."

"Tell us a riddle, uncle."

"Fifty ladies and five gallants: the fifty ask fowl; the five ask
bread," said the old man, of whom nature, and the kind of life he
led, had made the personification of ready and good-humored obedience.

"The Rosary! I knew that," said a little boy. "Tell another."

      "The mantle of Lady Leonor
      Sinks in the river, but covers the shore."

"We give it up, uncle."

"It is the snow, gentlemen."

At this moment they were interrupted by the ringing of the sunset
bell, and, all rising, stood with uncovered heads.

"Will you recite the prayer, Uncle Bartolo," said the widower.

Uncle Bartolo repeated the Angelus, adding a Paternoster for the
deceased. And now the grief of the sobbing child in the corner broke
forth in bitter crying.

"Stop that, Lucas!" said his father. "You have been going on in
that way, hic! hic! like an old woman, for two days. You ought to
have gone into the women's room. Let me hear you crying again! You
understand?"

"Let me tell _you_, Juan Garcia," said Uncle Bartolo, "that you are
the first man I ever heard rebuke the tears of a son for his mother!
You see me, with my years, my beard, and my guerilla life; well, I
remember mine, and weep for her still!

"But, uncle, 'frown, and frown again, of a bad son makes a good one.'
Lucas here is a regular _Marcia Fernandez_,[180] brought up in the
folds of his mother's skirts. I must teach him that men resist, and
do not allow themselves to be overcome by tribulations."

Uncle Bartolo shook his head. "Time and not ointment will cure the
patient. If you had died, his mother would not have been the one to
rebuke your son for the tears he shed over you."

Juan Garcia continued his former life, abandoning himself with more
liberty to the wicked woman of whom the friends of his dead wife had
spoken at the _condolement_. She was called _La Leona_ in allusion
to her native island of Leon, where she had married a sergeant, who
was afterward sent to serve in America. Like all bad women, _La
Leona_ was much worse than men of the same class, inasmuch as, in the
subtle organization of woman, the delicacy that is given to her for
good turns into a refinement of evil, and her instinctive penetration
into malignant sagacity. Not satisfied with having attracted to
herself Juan Garcia, who possessed a small patrimony, _La Leona_,
impelled by the bitter envy which a lost woman feels toward one who
is honest, undertook to render him indifferent to his wife, and
succeeded not only in this, but also in causing him to ill-treat
and abandon her. Juan Garcia was a weak man, easily subjugated by
those who knew how to obtain an influence over him, and, by way
of compensating himself for this complaisance, very obstinate and
overbearing in his treatment of others. By degrees, it came to pass
that his mistress would not receive him with favor unless he brought
her, as an offering, the relation of some act of coldness or cruelty
to the victim whose only crime was that of affording, by her right,
and by her silent and prudent endurance, the most patent condemnation
of the conduct of these two, a condemnation all the more ignominious
because of the great purity of manners which prevails in country
places. And in order to gain our assertion credit with those who are
disposed to accuse us of partiality for the country people, we hasten
to say that this purity may naturally be attributed to the wholesome
influence of labor, which, in putting indolence to flight, puts to
flight with it the vices it generates, and to the blessed poverty,
which, being without the means of satisfying them, hinders their
birth. Having convinced utilitarians with these reasons, we will add
to them others of our own; namely, the salutary ideas of morality
and rooted principles of honor that many centuries of Catholicism
have fixed in the hearts of these people--principles renewed, in each
successive generation, by the unchanging zeal that is the property of
religion, and that never wearies or grows lukewarm.

Like all other general rules, the above has its exceptions. Juan
Garcia furnished one. His unkindness, united with the grief and shame
his conduct caused her, had certainly hastened the death of poor
Ana, whose last act of affection as a wife, and duty as a Christian,
had been to forgive him. Alas! the soul of the husband was so deeply
mired that even this saintly death could awaken in it neither pity
nor remorse. Not that he was utterly perverse, but his eyes, like
those of many another in this world of error, were covered by one of
those veils which must fall on the day of God's judgment, when the
light of truth will be the first punishment that awaits the willingly
blind.

His boy and girl remained orphaned and neglected, and would have
been entirely forsaken but for that active charity which makes women
constitute themselves fervent protectors of the helpless and severe
judges of the wrong-doer. The wives of Juan's neighbors took care of
the children, and obliged him to feed and clothe them, freely casting
in his face his evil conduct, while, with imperturbable coolness,
they prescribed to him his obligations.

Ah charity!--some proclaim and others comprehend thee; some would
guide thee, and thou guidest others! Why art thou not found in the
palaces that philanthropy builds for thee? Why dost thou appear in
all thy brightness in the dwellings of the poor, delighting thyself
with the widow's farthing? It is because thou wilt be queen and not a
slave!

The children could not be consoled for the death of their mother.
Isolated as they were, all the sentiments of their hearts became
converted into love for each other, and sorrow for their loss.

Lucas, however, who was five years older than his sister, did his
best to enliven and distract her.

"Don't cry so, Lucia," he said to her one night, not long after the
_condolement_. "Mother will not come back for crying, and you make me
cry. What shall I do to amuse you?"

The child made no answer.

"Shall I sing you a romance?"

Lucia inclined her head in token of assent, and the boy sang in his
clear, sweet voice the following ballad:

        Holy Saviour of La Luz,
      Teach a child's tongue how to tell
      A thing that happened in Seville,
      Right, and worthily, and well.
      Of a mother who lived there,
      And two daughters that she had;
      One was humble, mild, and good,
      The other one was proud and bad.
        They marry with two brothers,
      Who are brothers but in name--
      Under the same roof nurtured,
      But in nothing else the same.
      The younger sells his portion,
      And loses the whole in play;
      The elder follows the plough,
      And works in his field all day.
        Then the younger dies, and leaves
      His wife, all alone and poor;
      Her children weep for bread,
      And she seeks her sister's door,
      Praying, "In God's name, sister,
      And for his sweet Mother's sake,
      Give my little children bread,
      And his word in payment take."
      "Go, Mary," cries the sister,
      "Beggar, take yourself away!
      Was my lot better than yours
      Upon our wedding-day?"
        Weeping and broken-hearted,
      The poor mother turns again;
      To know her cause of sorrow
      The neighbors ask in vain.
        Of the parlor of her house
      She had made a room for prayer
      To our Lady of the Beads:
      And now she enters there,
      And, with her little children,
      Before the altar falls
      Of our sweet princess Mary,
      And on her name she calls.
        Now, homeward in the evening
      The good brother turns his feet;
      Finds table spread and waiting,
      And he sits him down to eat.
      He takes a loaf and breaks it,
      But throws it away again,
      For blood runs out of the bread,
      On his hand he sees the stain.
      Then he takes and breaks another,
      But still the red blood falls--
      "Oh! what is this?" astonished,
      To his trembling wife he calls.
      "Tell me, I say! what is it?"
      For to tell she is afraid:
      "In vain to me, this morning.
      For bread my sister prayed!"
      "And she that, without pity,
      To a sister refuses bread,
      To God's Mother doth refuse it,"
      Then the angry husband said.
        Six loaves the young man gathered,
      And in haste to the abode
      Of his sister and her children
      He straightway took the road.
        The window-shutters were closed,
      And locked were windows and doors;
      But the gleam of many lights
      Shone out through the apertures--
      Shone on six angels of God,
      All kneeling upon the floor
      Round six bodies of mother and children
      That would never hunger more.
        "Farewell, my soul's dear sister,
      And sweet nephews of my heart!
      Though gold I have, and plenty,
      I would gladly give my part
      For yours in the blessed country
      Where sorrow is all forgot,
      And the labor of life exchanged
      For the eternal better lot!"

"And did she let her sister starve to death?" asked the child, her
eyes refilling from her already surcharged heart.

"Yes, yes; she was a good-for-nothing; but don't cry, Lucia, a story
isn't a thing that ever happened."

"If it had never happened, they would not have put it in the
romance," said the little girl.

"They made it up," replied Lucas. "Don't you believe it, dear. When
I am a man and can earn, the least piece of bread I may have, I must
divide with my heart's little sister. You know that before mother
died she put you in my care, and I made her a promise never to
forsake you."

"And will you keep it?"

"So may God give me his glory!"

"And if you ever forget it, I am to sing you this romance, to put you
in mind of what you say now."

"That is so; you must learn it." And the boy set himself to teach his
sister the romance.

TO BE CONTINUED.

FOOTNOTES:

[160] A house sometimes contains two or three suites of apartments
for distinct families. Each one forms a habitation.

[161] 28th of August, St. Augustine; 4th of October, St. Francis.

[162] _La Leona_, the lioness.

[163] _Azacan_, water-carrier, said of a servant or very laborious
person.

[164] _Los Usias_, the You Sirs. That is to say, grand folks that
must be treated to the _Usted_ (you), instead of the _tu_ (thou) of
common people.

[165] _Jabeque_, a clumsy three-masted vessel used in the
Mediterranean.

[166] Arturo.

[167] Magpie.

[168] A common dish on the tables of the country people.

[169] Offscouring.

[170] Partisans, or party.

[171] The patron of Spain.

[172] Brigands.

[173] To have misgivings as to the result of anything.

[174] _Tactica_, tactics.

[175] _Mala_, bad; _parte_, part; name given by the Spanish soldiers
to Bonaparte.

[176] Murat, Duke of Berg.

[177] _Funesto._ Nickname given by the Spanish soldiers to Junot.

[178] One who asks alms for charitable purposes.

[179] Rob the saints.

[180] A girl-boy.

THE GOOD GERARD OF COLOGNE.

BY RUDOLF OF EMS, VASSAL AT MONTFORT (THIRTEENTH CENTURY).

COMPILED AFTER THE GERMAN OF CARL SIMROCK.

I.

In the new cathedral at Magdeburg the bells were ringing for the
first time. A large crowd gathered to witness the consecration of the
church, founded and richly endowed by the Emperor Otto the Great. He
went up the aisle before all the people, not, as was then the custom,
to lay down gifts at the new altar of God, but, with erect brow, he
stood, and thus he spoke: "There is no gift in my hand for thee, O
Lord; but when I lift up my eyes, whatever I behold around me is my
gift to thee! This church I built for the glory of thy name, and I
endowed it and made it so great that the sons of kings think it an
honor to bow to its prince-bishop, and serve him. The heathen that
troubled thy people, see I conquered them with my strong arm--the
Wends, the Sarbs, and the Hungarians, they bowed their heads to my
sword, and their knees to thy glory; and I made thy name great in
all the pagan lands, and erected churches and bishoprics to thy
honor. And now show me to-day, O my Lord, that thou hast seen my
foot going in thy path, thou, who wilt give glory from heaven to him
who spreads thy glory on earth." Thus the emperor spoke before all
the people. And lo! a voice sounded from heaven as the voice of an
angel in anger, and it spoke with a voice like thunder rolling in
the mountains: "Otto, king on earth, see, the King in heaven had put
a chair by his side for thee to sit upon it, and thou hast despised
it in thy vanity; he had prepared for thee a crown of glory, and
thou hast taken the crown of pride that made angels fall. He has
heard with little pleasure the thoughts of thy heart, that asks for
the highest place. Know, that place is for him who most serves God
in humility and purity of heart; that is, for the good Gerard, the
merchant in Cologne, whose name is written in the book of life. And
now go and learn from him what is agreeable to God, and then confess
that thy glory is vain and thy doing but little. But know, that not
readily will he speak to thee; well would he lay down his life rather
than let the fame of his righteousness sound up to God by words
from his own mouth." When Otto had heard this, he bowed his head in
shame and was humbled. He mounted his good horse, and with three
of his knights rode over to Cologne. Among the citizens who came to
greet their emperor in the vast hall, Otto saw one, a tall man with
a long white beard and the step of a youth; and when he asked the
bishop who sat by his side who that man was, he received in answer:
"That is the good Gerard, the richest merchant in Cologne." Then the
emperor spoke to all the assembled people: "I came here to ask your
advice, as I am in great need of it. But I was counselled, and even
commanded, not to speak but to one of you, and for that one I choose
thee, O Gerard! Thou seemest to me rich in wisdom and experience."
And Gerard answered, bowing before the emperor: "Shall I go alone to
give my advice, while there are so many worthier ones here?" But all
the people said: "O king! thy choice is good; there is no one in this
hall his equal in wisdom." So the emperor took Gerard by the hand,
and led him to a chamber near by, and locked the door after him, and
they sat down on one couch, Gerard by Otto's side. Then Otto said:
"Gerard, it was to see thee that I came here; pray tell me, how did
it happen that the name 'Good' was given to thee? I would fain like
to know." "O great king!" answered Gerard, "I do not know myself
what that means; there are so many Gerards here; people only gave me
that name to distinguish me from them." "Gerard, thou art deceiving
me!" the emperor called out; but Gerard answered: "Oh! no, great
king, I should deceive thee if I spoke otherwise. Never did I merit
that name, and it was often a burden to me; because, while the world
called me 'the Good,' it reminded me how seldom I did what pleased
God. Often do I send the poor man away with a mean gift, whilst God
gives me riches; I give him sour beer and black bread, I give him
an old gown, whilst many a new one I had, and would not have missed
them. I always have liked to go to church where the service was
shortest, and when I had once prayed with my whole soul, I thought
that would do for half a year. Therefore, O king! do not ask me what
I have done to deserve that high name." The emperor said: "Gerard,
thou must give me a better answer, for I have sure knowledge that
thou hast done a great deed for God's sake, and I came to hear the
account of it from thy own mouth; therefore speak!" "Oh! spare me,"
called out the good man, "spare me, most gracious king!" But Otto
replied: "No, no! thou only awakenest my impatience, and I tell thee
thou must yield to me at the end, if even much against thy will!"
Then prayed the good man in his heart: "O God! look at thy servant!
My king is angry with me, and I cannot resist him any longer. So if
I reckon with thee, O Lord! and praise myself for the little good I
ever did, do not thou turn away thy grace from me, for what I say, I
do it much against my will." And presently he threw himself at the
emperor's feet, saying: "Ten thousand pounds of silver I have in my
cellar, take it and spare me the answer!" "Gerard," said the rich
emperor, "I thought thou wert wiser. Such a speech only excites my
curiosity. And I will tell thee, thou canst reveal me everything,
and it will be no sin to thee--so I swear before God." Then the good
Gerard said, arising from his knees, and sitting down: "God knows my
heart; he knows that, when I do now as my king commands me to do, my
heart is full of grief, and vanity is far from it."

II.

THE GOOD GERARD'S STORY.

"When my father died, he left no small fortune to me, his only heir.
But as I was a merchant, I thought to double and double again my
possessions, and cause my son to be called 'the rich Gerard,' as his
fathers had been called before him. So I left him such fortune as
would be full enough for him, and took all the rest, fifty thousand
pounds of silver, and carried it to my ship, together with food for
three years' voyage. Experienced sailors were in my pay, and my
clerk was with me, to write my accounts and read my prayers. So I
went to Russia, where I found sables in profusion, and to Prussia's
rich amber strand, and from there, by the Sea of the Middle, to the
East, and there I took in exchange silk and woven goods from Damax
and Ninive; and well I thought a threefold gain should be mine. Then
my heart began to long for wife and child, and with great joy I told
the mariners to turn the ship homeward. But a storm arose, and water
and wind were fighting for twelve days and twelve nights, and threw
my ship to an unknown land, where a beach gave us shelter. When the
sun shone again, and the sky looked clear, I saw villages and hamlets
and fertile fields as far as my eyes could reach, and near the sea
a large city with pinnacles and high walls. We went to the port,
and I found it full of merchandise, a rich and stately place, not
unlike the old Cologne. I went on land, for I saw the governor of
the city coming to view the goods in the port, and many a knight and
vassal rode by his side; and I thought to go up to him and ask his
protection. But when I came near him, he approached me with a quick
step, and, greeting me with his hand, he thus spake: 'Welcome the
first one who comes to my market! Thou art my guest, stranger! I see
thou comest from far off, perhaps from the land of the Christians,
who seldom come here, in false fear that I would harm them. But be of
good cheer! I do not harm the merchant, nor need I covet his goods,
for my land is rich, and all the gold and precious stones that it has
in its mountains are mine, and the pearls in the sea, and many a rich
vessel that the storm throws on our coast.' Well was I astonished at
such a greeting; but I accepted gladly; and the governor, Stranamur
by name, gave me the best house, and took care of me that nothing
might harm me. Again and again did he show me his love, and soon
friendship and confidence reigned between us. Presently, he wanted me
to show him the treasures of my ship, and I let it be done readily.
I saw him wonder at their splendor, and with good cheer he said:
'Gerard, I tell thee, thou hast brought riches to this land so great
that nobody can buy them. But I will show thee my treasure now, and
then, if it so please thee, we will exchange; for in this land my
treasure is of no value, while in the land of the Christians it might
bring thee at least a twentyfold gain.' And I answered: 'To seek
gain is the merchant's duty. I did show thee my treasure; now let
me see thine.' Then my host led me by the hand to a hall, and as I
entered with a cheerful mind, hoping to behold the riches of India,
gold and spices, I found the place all empty of joy and filled with
but misery. Twelve young knights were lying here in chains so heavy
that their weight pulled them down to the low couches, and, though
grief and want had disfigured their beauty, I saw they were of noble
blood and sons of high lords, born to govern the world. Then my host
beckoned me to the next hall, where I found again twelve knights in
chains, but old and pale, with venerable figure, and hair and beard
silver-white. Then my host led me away by the hand to the third
hall, and said: 'Behold my most precious goods!' Well, I found there
goods great in riches and beauty, for fifteen lovely maidens were
what he called the precious merchandise. And my heart pained me as
I beheld them, for their loveliness and gentle mind shone amid the
prison walls like stars in the night; and I saw one like their queen,
a moon among the stars. But Stranamur led me away and said: 'Thou
didst behold my goods; shall we exchange? Thou mayest easily get a
rich ransom for each of them, more than one hundred thousand pounds
of silver. In England they were born; William, their king, sent
them over to Norway to bring him home his bride, King Reinemund's
daughter, Irene, whom thou hast seen. Coming home, a storm threw them
on my coast, and so they were mine by right, for after the custom
of this land the strand is mine. And I offer these knights to thee,
together with the fifteen maidens, that thou mayest give me the
treasures I saw on thy ship.' I had good reason to be astonished at
such an offer, for I saw clearly it would be giving my goods for mere
blanks, and so I asked the governor to let me please consider till
the next morning. And when I came to my house I sat down thinking,
and though my heart told me to help the prisoners in their misery,
there was a voice in my mind saying: 'Do not give away the earnings
of thy life for a mere idea'; and well would I have passed that night
without coming to an end, if God in his goodness and grace had not
given his advice in my heart. For I fell asleep, and in my sleep I
heard a voice of God's angel, who spoke to me these words: 'Awake,
Gerard, God's anger is calling thee! Did he not say in his mercy,
"What thou givest to the poorest of my brethren, thou givest unto
me"? What thou givest to the needy ones, thou lendest to the Lord;
and doubt in him is great sin to thee!' Then I awoke and fell on my
knees, and thanked God that he had given me shame and repentance in
my heart, and humbled me so as to save me from sin. The next morning
my host met me at the gate, and with anxiety he asked what it was
my wish to do. And I answered: 'I am willing to make exchange with
thee, O Stranamur! if thou allowest me one thing: give back to the
prisoners their ship and all they brought on it, and give them food
and mariners, and whatever they need to go home.' And the governor
answered: 'Dost thou think me a thief, O Gerard? I thought, friend,
thou knewest me better. Not one penny's worth will I keep from the
prisoners, and theirs shall be whatever is needed for a safe and
speedy voyage.' After that he gave me his hand, and we changed thus
mine and thine. Then the prisoners were told of what had happened,
and they were clothed as became them, and refreshed, and when they
beheld me, their thanks and tears were such that my eyes overflowed,
even against my will. And I saw the women's great beauty, and Irene
their queen, and though the earthly crown was taken from her, there
was the crown of beauty and loveliness on her brow. Then my clerk
read prayers, and we went to sea; the right wind blew in our sails,
and bore us quickly outward. When we came near the coast of England,
I spoke to the knights: 'Tell me, who of you were born in England,
that they may go on their way home now.' And they answered: 'From
Norway only came Queen Irene with two of her maidens; all the rest of
us were born in England.' I said to the knights: 'Go home, then, with
my blessings, noble lords! and if I did what pleased you, think of me
with a friendly heart. Let King William know, and also Reinemund of
Norway, that Queen Irene is in my house and under my protection, and
that I am ready and willing to give her up whenever they claim her.
When I send my messengers to you, pay them back, O knights! what I
left for your sake in the strange land of the heathen, if it so is
convenient to you. Then they thanked me so that I had to hide from
their embraces; and we parted with many tears; and they went their
way, I mine.

"Soon I was home again. My wife and son welcomed me gladly and with
thanksgivings, and after I had told them all, they led Irene to my
house. And Queen Irene lived in my house like one of us for many a
month, and my wife loved her, and all the women of my household and
friendship, and she taught them many a fine art, such as to embroider
with gold and thread of silver and pearl. And God gave his blessing
to my trade, and I prospered. But every day, Irene's loveliness grew
more lovely, and when I saw her so gentle and smiling, I forgot my
losses, and my joy was greater than seventy-fold gain would have
made it. So passed a year, and no message came from Reinemund, nor
from William, the King of England, and I beheld with sorrow that my
queen's mind was grieved, though she hid her tears from our eyes.
That I took to my heart, and said to myself, 'I bought our sweet
queen free from great pain, and now I must see her in greater grief.
There is no one here kindred to her, and, when I am gone, who is
there to be her friend and protector? King William is dead, and so is
Reinemund, the King of Norway, and Irene, their queen, will die of
grief for them! Therefore I spoke to her one day, and I asked her to
listen graciously, and then I said thus: 'Thou must know, O queen!
that there is nothing that gives me so much trouble than the thought
what one day shall become of thee when I am no more. It is clear now,
sorry as I am for it, that thy friends are dead, therefore, I think
it our duty to counsel wisely what is best for thy future, O queen!
As he is considered a wise man who tries to forget what fortune took
from him, so I advise thee, O my daughter! to choose for a husband
one from among my family, that is, my son, as whose wife honor and
ample fortune will not be wanting to thee.' At that, Irene answered
and spoke to me: 'O dear father! I know me no better adviser than
thee in this world; so I will do whatever pleases thee. Only let
me wait one year longer; if till then no tidings have come from
any friends and kindred, thy wish shall be mine!' But the year was
soon past, and no tidings had reached us, neither from England nor
from Norway; and so Irene the queen was to be the merchant's wife.
I ordered the wedding to be prepared with the greatest splendor,
and my mind's only thought was to boast with my riches; and I asked
to the feast many a rich merchant, and nobles and dukes, and our
prince the bishop. So when Pentecost came, that was to be the day of
the wedding, the bishop stood up before the altar, and eleven noble
squires knelt down before him, and the twelfth one, who was Gerard
my son, and the bishop blessed their swords, and they arose as noble
lords and knights. My eye rested on him, and I saw he was happy; he
broke his lance in honor of his bride; he watched for the bell that
should call him again to the altar of God, there to receive Irene
as his wife: what could there be to make his happiness greater and
to hinder him from drinking the cup of bliss? But lo, I beheld one
standing far aside, a stranger with a pale face and his eyes full of
tears; he gazed at Irene, my daughter, and he shuddered, and his arm
was around a column that he might not fall. He was a young man of
great beauty, and his skin was fine and white, but his beard gray,
and his dress that of a beggar. As I saw him so full of woe and
tears, I went up to him, and I asked him the cause of his grief, that
perhaps I might give help and make joy and happiness come back to his
mind. But he would not speak. At last, as I pressed him very much, he
said to me these words: 'Such as thou doest see me here with my hair
gray before the time, I am William, King of England. I went to sea
to meet my bride coming from Norway, where I had sent twelve maidens
and twenty-four knights to escort her over to me. But a storm arose
and threw my ship against the rocks while I was already in sight of
them, the tempest carried me to the shore and I was thus saved, but
not a word I ever heard of the knights, or the maidens, or of Irene
my bride, the King of Norway's daughter. For years and years I have
wandered about in search of her, with my heart full of despair and my
hair and beard gray, till at last I found her to-day, the bride of
another man. What shall I tell thee more? My soul and body are hers
whom I love, and for her sake I will now give them up into death!'
When I heard these words from my guest, him who destroyed all my
joys, I said unto him: 'The Lord has done great things; honor and
fortune he might still give thee back; wait here awhile, and be of
good cheer!' And I sent my valet to him, to attend to all his needs
and wants, but I went to my prince the bishop and told him the wonder
God had shown to us, and asked him to help me with my son Gerard and
teach him a Christian's duty. So I called my son away from the side
of his bride, and after he had heard the tale, so full of marvel, the
bishop asked him: 'Wilt thou then separate, Gerard, what before God
is united?' Then he answered us, and he said: 'What do you think of
me? Shall I give up my love and happiness and rest and peace?' But
the bishop spoke: 'Yes, my son, thou shalt!' And my child began to
cry at these words, and I cried with him, and he put his arms around
my neck and said, 'My father, then let it be so!' and my heart felt
joy at these words. Shall I tell thee what my heart felt when I saw
King William greet his bride? I am old as thou art, O emperor! but
I know not without jealousy thou wouldst have beheld it. And in my
heart I thanked the God of goodness who had given so wise counsel in
my mind that my blessings now were greater than what gold or silver
could ever have bought for me. After that I filled my ship and took
them over to England, and great was the joy of the four-and-twenty
knights on beholding their king and queen, and of the whole people,
and great were their thanks to me, and only with great pain could
I hinder them from bestowing all their riches on me, and making me
a prince and a great man among them. But I will not repeat to thee
all they meant to do to me, and the praises they gave me; for God
knows, in all my life I cannot deserve them. And when I came home,
the people made much of me, and called me 'the good'; though thou
knowest now, as well as I do, that I am not good. It was only by the
angel's voice that my doubts were taken, from me; I was full of fear
to lose my goods, and weak. Besides, I am a sinner and am proud and
vain, so that I have been praising myself before thee, O emperor!
while, couldst thou see my heart, many a fault thou wouldst observe
within."

III.

Before Gerard had finished speaking, the emperor's heart grew large
within him and made his eyes overflow; for tears are a blessing
which God sends from heaven. He felt shame and repentance, and these
two re-created his heart, and his mind was healed from all false
glory. And he said: "Gerard, I tell thee, better a good deal than
silence is what thou hast made known to me; for my heart was sick
with vainglory, and pride overgrew the good deed. I had built a great
house to the Lord, and the thought of that poisoned my heart, so
that it asked for reward. But what I asked has turned against me as
a punishment, for no heart is pure that seeks for glory only. When
I then praised myself at my good deed, God sent me to thee to learn
true humility and charity. Truly thou art good; for thy heart was
not moved by the praise of this world. Thou hast given thy goods for
poor prisoners, thou hast taken the wife from thy son, and refused
the riches of England in humility and charity, only for the sake of
the Lord thy God. Well, my ride to thee has brought me benefit. But
thou, O Gerard! pray the Lord to have mercy upon him that prides in
vainglory; pray for thy emperor to our God in heaven."

EGYPTIAN CIVILIZATION ACCORDING TO THE MOST RECENT DISCOVERIES.

FROM THE CORRESPONDANT.

    PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS ON THE ANTIQUITY OF EGYPTIAN
    CIVILIZATION.

The most striking fact respecting the Egyptian monarchy is its
antiquity. "Forty centuries look down upon you from these pyramids,"
were the sublime words of Bonaparte; but they do not express enough.
The progress of archæological science shows that the reign of the
Pharaohs began more than three thousand years before Christ. M.
Bunsen gives the date as 4245 B.C., and M. Mariette 5004, but with
some qualifications that should be mentioned. "Egyptian chronology,"
says he, "presents difficulties which no one, as yet, has
surmounted.... To all dates before the time of Psammetichus I. (665
B.C.), it is impossible to give anything but approximations, which
become more and more uncertain as we recede.... This uncertainty
increases in proportion as we go back from the present age; so
that, according to the methods of computation, there may be two
thousand years' difference in assigning the date of the Egyptian
monarchy."[181]

While fully admitting the reasonable qualifications of the learned
director of the Egyptian antiquities, it is no less certain, from
the discoveries already made, that the reign of the Pharaohs extends
back about thirty centuries before the Christian era.

Another characteristic of this ancient nation, which is no less
remarkable, is that it manifests all the signs of civilization
from the beginning. "It is a phenomenon worthy of the most serious
attention," says Champollion-Figeac, "that Egypt possessed in those
remote ages all the civil, religious, and military institutions
indispensable to the prosperity of a great nation, and all the
enjoyments resulting from the perfection of the arts, the advantages
assured by the authority of the civil and religious laws, the
culture of the sciences, and a profound sentiment of the dignity and
destination of man."[182]

"Egyptian civilization manifests itself to us fully developed from
the earliest ages, and succeeding ones, however numerous, taught it
little more,"[183] says M. Mariette.

"What is most extraordinary about this mysterious civilization is
that it had no infancy.... Egypt, in this respect as in so many
others, is an exception to the laws to which the Indo-European and
Semitic races have accustomed us. It does not begin with myths,
heroic exploits, and barbarism."[184] The author we have just quoted
sought in vain, with all his mind and learning, for the cause of
this strange phenomenon. "Egypt," says he, "is another China, mature
and almost decrepit from its birth, and in its monuments and history
there is something at once childlike and old."

This ingenious explanation excites a smile, but not conviction.
Rather than admit revelation--that is to say, the intervention
of the divine agency in the creation of man and the formation of
primitive nations--many learned men of our day prefer to take refuge
in the most singular and inadmissible theories. According to them,
human society must "commence with myths and barbarism," and man
himself with the savage nature of the brutes. But they are forced to
acknowledge that Egypt is a decided exception to this theory.

"The gigantic labors of the Suez Canal in removing the immense
accumulations of sand, so often amassed as if to preserve the
past history of the world, have not revealed a single vestige of
uncivilized men who, before the deluge, were scattered over the rest
of the earth."[185]

To resolve the problem of ancient Egyptian civilization, we propose
an explanation more conformable to the traditions and the dignity
of the human race. It is true, this explanation is not new, for
it was evident to the sages of pagan times a long time before it
was fully unfolded by Christian philosophers. Socrates taught that
"the ancients, better than we and nearer the gods, had transmitted
by tradition the sublime knowledge they had received from them."
Plato adds that "the earliest of mankind, issuing from the hands of
the gods, must have known them as well as we know our own fathers,
and that it is truly impossible not to believe the testimony of the
children of the gods."

What the wise men of Greece perceived through the thick veil of
paganism, we behold clearly by the light of Christianity and the
Holy Scriptures. It seems to us a simple thing to believe that the
Egyptian nation, the first founded, not many centuries after the
deluge, must have been organized according to the principles of the
national law of which the descendants of Noah had not yet lost the
tradition. "If we believe in the truth of the Scriptural accounts,"
says an illustrious promoter of social reforms in England,[186]
"we must also believe that when the families descended from Ham
and Japheth began their long migrations, they bore with them the
religious traditions they possessed in common with the children of
Shem.

"As to those who will not accept the testimony of the book which,
to give it the most unpretending of its august titles, is the most
ancient and most venerable document of human history, we could
reply that the reasoning still remains the same. The progress of
ethnological and philological researches furnishes us with evident
proofs of a continued migration of the Touranian and Aryan races
towards the north and west from places necessarily undefined, but
certainly from the vicinity of the nomad patriarchs. On the other
hand, nothing shows that their traditions have a different source
from that given in the Book of Genesis--the three divisions of Noah's
family. If, then, everything seems to demonstrate the intimate
connection of these primitive races with the Semitic tribes, how
could the descendants of Ham and Japheth have left behind the
irreligious traditions when, for the first time, they left their
brethren?"

The descendants of Ham, ancestors of the first Egyptians, doubtless
preserved, with their religious traditions, the moral principles
that guarantee the existence and perpetuity of domestic life, and
the notions of the arts indispensable to its comfort. "With the
human race," says Bossuet, "Noah preserved the arts; not only those
necessary to life which man knew from the beginning, but those
subsequently invented. The first arts which man learned, apparently
from his Creator, were agriculture, the duties of pastoral life, the
fabrication of clothing, and perhaps the construction of habitations.
Therefore we do not see the rudiments of these arts in the East,
in those regions whence the human race was dispersed. This is why
everything springs from those lands, always inhabited, where the
fundamental arts remained. The knowledge of God and memories of
creation are there preserved."[187]

The ruins of the Tower of Babel still show to what a degree of
advancement the art of building had arrived, and the details given us
in the Bible about the construction of the ark display an amount of
nautical knowledge which must have been transmitted to the skilful
boatmen of the Nile and the bold navigators of ancient Phœnicia.

We will not extend these preliminary observations, which we think
throw sufficient light on the origin of Egyptian civilization, the
incontestable antiquity of which is as enigmatical as that of the
Sphynx to the astonished eyes of the modern Œdipus. A truly learned
man, who shows himself by his _conférences_ in the Rue Bonaparte
thoroughly conversant with the discoveries of contemporaneous
Egyptology, and who is not ashamed to seek light from revelation
as well as from science, has resolved the problem in the following
terms: "There is not, in the first ages of the Egyptian monarchy,
the least trace of the rude beginnings of a nation in its infancy.
Indeed, we should not forget that this country never passed through
the savage state, and that, if the truths revealed to the patriarchs
were adulterated by the race of Ham, they still retained sufficient
light not to remain satisfied with material enjoyments alone."[188]

Let us now endeavor to penetrate, by the light of these principles,
as far as we can into the labyrinth of Egyptian antiquities.

BOOK FIRST.

THE SOCIAL ORGANIZATION.

I.

DOMESTIC REGULATIONS.

The institutions which are the safeguards of family life and of
property are essential to society and the perpetuity of a nation,
and these foundations of the social life seem to have been as firmly
established among the ancient Egyptians as their own pyramids. The
sacredness of the family tie was the result of unity of marriage and
respect to parents, and its perpetuity was assured by the rights of
primogeniture, which were universally admitted from the royal family
down to that of the most humble laborer. This was the fundamental
principle of family life and of society. Therefore we see Pharaoh in
the Holy Scriptures resist all the plagues God sent upon Egypt for
the deliverance of the Israelites; but when the first-born of the
Egyptians were smitten in one night, the king yielded at once, for
the whole nation felt that a blow had been given to the very source
of its existence.

The Egyptian monuments of every age prove that the paternal authority
was universally regarded with great respect. On a great number of
stelæ collected by M. Mariette in the museum of Boulak are these
words:

"Oblation in honor of the head of the house." (Here follows the name.)

"The religious laws of Egypt obliged families on certain days in the
year to present offerings to deceased parents. One stela, consecrated
to the memory of Entef, who lived at the beginning of the twelfth
dynasty, is only a representation of one of these festivals. Entef
is seated beside his wife. His sons and daughters present themselves
before him. Some are saying the prescribed prayers; others bringing
food and perfumes. The last scene depicted is interesting from
the variety of representations. Besides parts of animals already
sacrificed, the servants are bringing live animals."[189]

We may judge of the sentiments of the ancient Egyptians with regard
to paternal authority by the following passages from an ancient
document, the authenticity of which has never been contested:

"The son who receives his father's advice will live to be old.
Beloved by God is obedience. Disobedience is hated by God. The
obedience of a son to his father is a joy,... he is beloved by his
father, and his renown is on the lips of the living who walk the
earth. The rebellious son sees knowledge in ignorance, and virtue
in vice; he daily commits all kinds of frauds with impunity, and
lives thereby as if he were dead. What wise men consider death is
his daily life. He keeps on his way laden with maledictions. A son
docile in the service of God will be happy in consequence of his
obedience...."[190]

We cannot help recognizing in this precious document the moral ideas
of primitive times, the tradition of which is so faithfully preserved
in the Bible. The fourth precept of the Decalogue is found here
almost literally: "Honor thy father and thy mother, that thou mayest
be long-lived upon the land."

Upon a mortuary stela described by M. Mariette in his _Notice du
Musée de Boulaq_ (No. 44, p. 72), Maï, the defunct, is seen receiving
the homage of the members of his family. "One of the sons of Maï is
called Men-Nefer. For some unknown reason, his name is erased from
the list of the family, and, in fact, his whole image is hammered
down. Another son likewise incurred this mark of infamy, which is
only given to the proper name of the personage."

Respect to parents naturally leads to that for the aged. "The
Egyptians have this custom in common with the Lacedæmonians," says
Herodotus; "young men, when they meet their elders, turn aside for
them to pass; at their approach they rise from their seats."

The obligations of parents towards their children were strictly
enjoined in ancient Egypt, as is evident from a curious passage from
Diodorus, which, at the same time, shows how the manners and laws
favored the fecundity of marriage, the only source of a robust and
numerous population:

"Parents are obliged to rear all their offspring in order to increase
the population, which is regarded as the chief source of the
prosperity of a kingdom.... They provide for the support of their
children at little expense, and with incredible frugality. They give
them very simple food: the stems of the papyrus which can be roasted,
roots and stems of palustrine plants, sometimes raw, sometimes boiled
and roasted, and as all children go unshod in that temperate climate,
the parents do not estimate the expense of a child before the age of
puberty to be more than twenty drachmæ (a little less than twenty
francs).

"The children of the common people are taught the trade of their
parents, which they are to practise for life, as we have remarked.
Those who are initiated into the arts are alone charged with teaching
others to read."

So simple and natural a system of education must have singularly
favored the fruitfulness of marriage among the masses, and the
number of children was not less among the aristocracy. We see from
the simplest monuments, where the funeral honors rendered to the
head of a family by all his children are painted on a wood panel,
or sculptured on a slab of calcareous stone, that their number,
including both sexes, amounted to eight or a dozen, or even more, and
the more elaborate monuments, indicating distinguished families and
the upper classes, render the same testimony as to the large number
of children in each family--as in the sculpture at Thebes, which
gives a list of nine male children of Rameses Meiamoun, and a greater
number of daughters. In this respect the ancient Egyptian nation
differed from people of modern times.[191]

The inequality that weighed so heavily upon woman among ancient
nations is not found in Egypt. "Women, on the contrary," says M.
Mariette, "held a prominent position in a family. The rights they
inherited were not absorbed in those of their husbands, and they were
transmitted intact to their children. At certain epochs, the family
monuments often named the mother to the exclusion of the father.
In the inscriptions of the ancient empire, conjugal affection is
frequently expressed in a delicate and touching manner." And it has
been remarked, and with reason, that the women who played a great
_rôle_ in the history of the ancient dynasties enjoyed in private
life a liberty of action quite foreign to the manners of most
Oriental nations.[192]

"It is by the social position of woman," says M. de Bonald, "that we
can always determine the nature of the political institutions of a
people. In Egypt, where we find the type of the social organization,
the law submitted the husband to his wife in honor of Isis, which
means that this dependence was inspired by religion and morals,
rather than commanded by law. Neither divorce nor polygamy was known
there."[193]

The elevated condition of woman in Egypt is attested by the
monuments, which show her sharing with her husband in the direction
of the family.[194]

Champollion-Figeac has given us curious details respecting the
private customs of wealthy families, the garb and toilet of the
women and children, and the peculiar characteristics of the Egyptian
race:

"The head was habitually uncovered; the hair curled or plaited; a
woollen mantle was sometimes worn over the tunic, and laid aside
when they entered the temples. The women, besides the tunic, wore
ample vestments of linen or cotton, with large sleeves, plain or
striped, white, or of some uniform color. Their hair was artistically
arranged. Their heads were ornamented with bandeaux, and their ears
and hands with rings. A light slipper was worn on the feet. They
went out with uncovered faces, accompanied by some of the numerous
female servants of the house. Dressed also in ample robes of striped
cloth, these servants had their hair braided and hanging down over
the shoulders. They also wore a large apron, like their dress, with
no jewels or other ornaments, and held themselves in a respectful
posture in the presence of the lady of the house. Girls issuing from
childhood were dressed like their mothers, with the exception of the
ornaments of the head, and children of both sexes wore ear-rings as
their only ornament (or dress) for the first five or six years.

"They were a fine race, tall in stature, generally somewhat slender,
and long-lived, as is proved by the sepulchral inscriptions of those
over eighty years of age. But exceptions to these general statements
are found among the Egyptians as among other nations. We only make a
general statement of the principal features of their physical nature,
according to the monuments, in accord with historical accounts.
Herodotus, who saw Egypt before its complete decadence, declares
that, next to the Lybians, the Egyptians were the healthiest of
people. The great number of mummies of men and women which have been
opened corroborate this testimony."[195]

Bossuet, in his _Discours sur l'Histoire universelle_, gives a bold
sketch of the physiognomy of the Egyptians, and shows the result of
their manly training: "These wise Egyptians," says he, "studied the
regimen that produces solid minds, robust bodies, fruitful women, and
vigorous children. Consequently, the people increased in number and
strength. The country was naturally healthy, but philosophy taught
them that nature wishes to be aided. There is an art of forming
the body as well as the mind.[196] This art, which we have lost
through our indifference, was well known to the ancients, and Egypt
acquired it. For this laudable end, the inhabitants had recourse to
exercise and frugality.... Races on foot, horseback, and in chariots
were practised with admirable skill in Egypt. There were not finer
horsemen in the world than the Egyptians.

"When Diodorus tells us they rejected wrestling as giving a dangerous
and factitious strength, he had reference to the excessive feats of
the athletes, which Greece herself, though she crowned the victorious
wrestler in her games, disapproved of as unsuitable for free persons;
and Diodorus himself informs us that the Mercury of the Egyptians
invented the rules as well as the art of forming the body.

"We must similarly modify the statement of the same author respecting
music. That which the Egyptians despised, according to him, as
tending to lessen courage, was doubtless soft, effeminate music,
which only excites to pleasure and false tenderness. For the
Egyptians, so far from despising music of an elevated character,
whose noble accords exalt the mind and heart, ascribed its invention,
according to Diodorus himself, to their Mercury, as well as the
gravest of musical instruments.[197]

"Among the varied exercises which formed a part of the military
education, and are sculptured on the numerous monuments, are found
complete gymnastic rules. Nothing could be more varied than the
attitudes and positions of the wrestlers, attacking, defending
themselves, receding and advancing by turns, bending down or turning
over, rising up again, and triumphing over the opponents by dint of
strength, art, and skill. In these exercises the wrestlers only wore
a large girdle, that supported and favored their efforts."

A fortunate discovery by M. Mariette enables us to complete the
portrait of the Egyptian race. A statue found in the Necropolis of
Sakkarah, near Memphis, represents a person standing wearing a plain
wig,[198] the arms close to the body. He is walking, with the left
leg advanced. "This fine monument," says M. Mariette, "is at once
a perfect model of the Fellah of the middle provinces of Egypt and
a specimen of the works of art in the ancient kingdom. The person
represented is tall and slender, with a small hand, the eyes wide
open, the nose short and full, the lips somewhat thick, but pleasant
in expression, and the cheeks plump. The breadth of the shoulders is
remarkable. The breast is full, but, like the race itself, the hips
are small, and the lean and muscular limbs seem formed for racing."

II.

THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE PEOPLE.

The Egyptians, the first to organize a truly civilized society,
were divided into distinct classes, in which the occupations of the
different families were hereditary. The two dominant classes were the
sacerdotal and military. Inferior to them were the agriculturists,
shepherds, merchants, artisans, and boatmen, on whom devolved the
cultivation of the land, the care of the flocks, commerce, the
trades, the means of communication and transportation on the Nile,
and the canals that covered the land.[199]

To understand the strength and permanence of this organization, we
must revert to its origin. The social institutions of ancient nations
in the beginning depended essentially on the family--the foundation
of all society. The children were naturally inclined to follow
the occupations of their parents. The necessity of providing for
their own livelihood as soon as they were able, and the facility of
working under the direction of their fathers, induced them to embrace
the occupation to which they had been accustomed from infancy. It
was thus that not only agriculture, but all the arts, trades, and
sciences, became hereditary in the family. Once having a means of
subsistence, it was natural to endeavor to preserve it. Identity of
interests drew together those who followed the same trades, which
led to the formation of corporations united by ties of blood and
similarity of pursuits.

The Egyptians were probably the first nation to systematically apply
these principles. "They were not allowed," says Bossuet, "to be
useless to the country. The law assigned every one his employment,
which was transmitted from father to son. They could not have two
professions, or change the one they had; but then every employment
was honored. There must be some pursuits and some people of a more
elevated condition, as eyes are needed in the body, but their
brilliancy does not make them despise the feet or the baser parts.
Thus, among the Egyptians, the priests and warriors were particularly
honored; but all trades, even the lowest, were esteemed. It was
considered culpable to despise citizens whose labors, whatever they
might be, contributed to the public welfare. By this means all the
arts were brought to perfection. The honor which tended to develop
them was everywhere manifested, and that was done better to which
they had been accustomed and in which they had been experienced from
childhood.

"But there was one pursuit common to all--the study of the civil laws
and the requirements of religion. Ignorance of religion and of the
regulations of the land was inexcusable in any rank. Each profession
had its own district. No inconvenience resulted from this, as the
country was not extensive, and with so much system the indolent had
nowhere to hide themselves."[200]

We recognize the genius of Bossuet in the clear outlines he has drawn
of the plan of organized labor, suited to the state of things, as
well as the fundamental principles of all society. The respect for
family life and tradition, the maintenance of social harmony and
the grades of society, the protection of honored labor, are all
remembered in this admirable sketch of the political economy of the
ancient Egyptians.

But we must not, nevertheless, conclude that professions were
rigorously hereditary and the castes unchangeable. Ampère proves
the contrary by means of the sepulchral inscriptions discovered
in the tombs contemporary with the ancient dynasties. They show,
in fact, that a great number of marriages were contracted between
persons of different classes. "What destroys the hypotheses of
exclusive professions," says that learned academician, "to which each
family, and consequently each caste, was supposed to be devoted,
is, finding one member of a family in the sacerdotal state, another
pursuing the military life, and the remainder engaged in some civil
profession."[201]

It is true the monuments, a funereal distinction of the upper
classes, never mention the laborer or the artisan; but it is
reasonable to believe that, among a people so regularly organized,
the different classes were governed by the same laws and customs.
In large families, like those of primitive times generally, liberty
of vocation easily harmonized with hereditary professions. One
alone--that of the swineherd--was rigorously hereditary. Those who
pursued this employment were obliged to marry among themselves, on
account of the invincible repugnance felt for the unclean animals
they had charge of. Herodotus says the Egyptian swineherd alone, of
all the nation, could not enter into any temple in the country. No
one would marry their daughters or give their children to them in
marriage. They could only marry among themselves.

III.

DIVISION OF LANDED PROPERTY.

The law concerning the landed property contributed no less than the
hereditary professions to preserve a distinction of classes and
the social gradations. "All the land," says Diodorus, speaking of
the institutions of ancient Egypt, "is divided into three parts.
The first and largest belongs to the priesthood, who are greatly
respected by the native population on account of their religious
functions as well as for their thorough education. Their revenues are
expended for the sacrifices, the maintenance of their subordinates,
and their own wants. The Egyptians think the religious ceremonies
should not be changed, that they should always be performed by the
same functionaries, and that these sovereign counsellors should
be above want. In fact, the priests are the chief counsellors
of the king, whom they aid by their labors, their advice, and
their knowledge. By means of astrology and the inspection of the
sacrificial victims, they foretell the future, and they relate useful
examples of deeds taken from the sacred books. It is not here as in
Greece, where a single man or woman has charge of the sacerdotal
functions. In Egypt, those who are occupied in the sacrifices and
conduct the worship of the gods are numerous, and they transmit their
profession to their descendants. They are exempted from taxes, and
they rank next to the king in position and privileges.

"The second part of the land belongs to the king, the revenues of
which are employed for the expenses of war and the maintenance of the
court. The king rewards merit from his own income, without having
recourse to the purse of any private individual.

"The remaining portion of the land belongs to the soldiers and
all those who are under command of the military leaders. Strongly
attached to their country, on account of the wealth they possess,
they brave all the dangers of war to defend it. It is, in fact,
absurd to entrust the safety of a nation to men who have no interest
in the common welfare. What is especially remarkable, the soldiers,
living thus at their ease, increase the population to such a degree
that the government is able to dispense with foreign troops. And
the children, encouraged by the example of their fathers, eagerly
embrace the military life, and are invincible by their bravery and
experience."[202]

Diodorus, as is known, was a contemporary of Julius Cæsar and
Augustus.

In addition to what Diodorus says of the military class, we will add
the following extracts from Herodotus: "Twelve acres of excellent
land were given, under the first kings, to each head of a family."
(He is speaking of the same class.) And a little further on: "Each
soldier possesses twelve acres of land, exempt from taxation."

This distribution of the landed property is similar to that in France
in feudal times, and which still exists, to a degree, in England,
where the clergy and aristocracy possess the greater part of the land.

The two first classes were exempt from taxation, but the priests
were at all the expense of public worship, and, although the royal
treasury provided for the expenses of war, the soldiers evidently
had to provide, not only their own supplies, and equipment, but also
for the expenses of military organization; and, like our ancient
noblesse, they alone had the glorious privilege of paying a tribute
of blood.

We have not a sufficiently clear knowledge of Egyptian civilization
to state the law of succession with certainty, or how the
preservation of the patrimony of each family was preserved.

Modern publicists, confounding stability with immovableness, have
thought the power of bequeathing property did not exist under the
ancient laws of the East. This opinion seems incompatible with
the nature of the paternal authority, which was carried to a
sovereign degree in the families of primitive times. Does not the
Bible represent the patriarch Jacob on his death-bed disinheriting
Reuben, the oldest of his twelve sons, and giving his inheritance
to Judah? And this scene, so well related in Holy Scripture, took
place in Egypt itself. It is true, the descendants of Abraham had
preserved the traditions of the patriarchal life more perfectly
than the Egyptians, but the latter, as we have seen, also professed
great respect for the paternal authority, the rights of which must
have harmonized with the requirements of the principle of hereditary
professions. A passage from Diodorus seems to decide the question in
this sense: "The legislator regarded property as belonging to those
who had acquired it by their labor, by _transmission_, or by gift."
However this may be, it is certain that all the land, according
to Herodotus and Diodorus, belonged originally to the king, the
priesthood, and the military class. This division of the landed
property must have greatly contributed to the stability which is so
distinctive a characteristic of the Egyptian nation. The hereditary
transmission of the land in the sacerdotal and military classes
effectually assured a solid basis for their preponderance, and at the
same time guaranteed the independence and dignity of the aristocratic
classes. They were thus fully enabled to second the king in the
government, administration, and defence of the country.

IV.

ORGANIZATION OF LABOR.

Ancient Egypt, from an agricultural point of view, is in some
respects worthy of attention. Certain modern writers have supposed
the members of the military class cultivated their own lands, as the
legionaries of ancient Rome, but this supposition is irreconcilable
with the testimony of the ancient historians who visited Egypt.
Herodotus says they were "not allowed to practise any mechanical
art, but were skilled in the art of war, which they transmit from
father to son." This point is settled by the following passage
from Diodorus: "The agriculturists pass their lives in cultivating
the lands, which are leased them at a moderate price by the king,
priests, and warriors."

As to the sacerdotal class, absorbed in the religious observances,
the administration, the study of the laws and the sciences, it was
impossible for its members to engage in the cultivation of the land,
which, as we have seen, they leased. Notwithstanding great research,
no information has been obtained about the economic condition of
the agricultural class. We only know, from the extract quoted
from Diodorus, that the land was leased at a moderate price. The
stability which prevailed in Egypt, and the principle of hereditary
professions, induce us to believe that private estates generally
had a kind of entail, so the same family of husbandmen lived from
generation to generation on the same land. This principle of
stability was eminently favorable to the moral and material welfare
of the family, as well as to the progress of agriculture. Reared
from childhood amid rural occupations, they acquired more experience
in them than any other nation. They perfectly understood the nature
of the soil, the art of irrigation, and the time for sowing and
harvesting, a knowledge they acquired partly from their ancestors and
partly by their own experience. The same observation may be applied
to the shepherds, who inherited the care of their flocks, and passed
their whole lives in rearing them; thus perfecting the knowledge
acquired from their fathers.

The other industrial classes were no less prosperous. They also
inherited their occupations. A celebrated publicist states that "the
Egyptian artisans held no property."[203]

To prove the truth of such an assertion, it must be shown that they
were reduced to a state of slavery: which is formally contradicted
by Diodorus, as we shall see presently, and it is not confirmed by
any of the recently discovered monuments. It may be safely affirmed
that the artisans of ancient Egypt, with the exception of those
attached to the temples or public works, had a complete right over
their trades and the fruit of their labors. The possession of land
was denied them, but there is reason to believe they could own their
dwellings and the little gardens that surrounded them.

Champollion-Figeac, who rivalled his brother in the sciences and
the profound knowledge of the arts and pursuits of ancient Egypt,
represents the people of that country with their "plates of glazed
earthenware, their rush-baskets, and their shoes of papyrus." "The
lower classes," says he in another place, "generally wore a short
linen tunic called a calasiris, confined by a girdle around the hips,
and sometimes with short sleeves trimmed with fringe at the end."

V.

SOCIAL CONDITION OF THE LABORING CLASSES.

Notwithstanding the light which the wonderful discoveries of modern
science have thrown on the history of ancient Egypt, we still lack
precise information respecting the internal organization of the
corporations occupied in manual labor. We only know from Diodorus
that they belonged to the class of citizens--that is, they were
_free_ men. "There are in the kingdom," says he, after having spoken
of the two dominant classes, "three classes of _citizens_: shepherds,
husbandmen, and artisans."

Labor among the ancients was not always a mark of servitude. In
retracing the origin of the ancient nations, as far as the light of
history diffuses its rays, we find agriculture and the industrial
pursuits carried on everywhere by free labor.

The monarchical and aristocratical government contributed not a
little to the maintenance of stability in the artisan families,
by preserving them from the fruitless agitations into which the
working-classes are fatally drawn under democratic governments.
Diodorus shows this admirably in the following passage, to which we
invite the attention of the reader:

"It must be considered that the arts have greatly developed among
the Egyptians, and arrived at a high degree of perfection. It is
the only country in which a workman is not permitted to fill any
public office, or employ himself in any other way than that assigned
him by law or by inheritance. By this restriction, the workman is
not diverted from his occupations either by the jealousy of his
masters[204] or by political affairs. Among other nations, on the
contrary, the artisan is almost wholly absorbed in the idea of making
a fortune, some by agriculture, others through commerce, and some
carry on several trades at once. And in democratic countries, most
of them frequent the popular assemblies and increase disorder by
selling their votes, whereas an Egyptian artisan who should take a
part in public affairs, or worked at several trades at once, would
incur a large fine. Such are the social divisions and political
constitutions the ancient Egyptians transmitted from father to son."

What a contrast between the artisan of the old Greek republics,
"frequenting public assemblies and extending disorder by selling
their votes," and the workman of the Egyptian monarchy, peacefully
pursuing the occupation of his fathers, happy and contented amid
political agitations which must have been very rare under a _régime_
in which traditional customs were religiously observed! Thus, with
the exception of enforced labor on the public works, we are not
unwilling to admit the fidelity of the picture Champollion-Figeac
has drawn of the condition of the laboring classes in ancient Egypt:
"The extraordinary fertility of the soil, the beneficent climate,
the wise laws perfected by experience and sanctioned by time,
the active and benevolent administration, constantly occupied in
promoting and sustaining public order in the country as well as the
city, the inevitable influence of religion upon a people naturally
religious and impressionable--the most religious of men, according to
Herodotus--allow us to believe that the masses in ancient Egypt were
happy, and that, occupied and laborious, modest in their manners and
wishes, they found in labor a source of durable pleasure."

By this wise social organization, which kept each one in his place,
the artisan remained faithfully devoted to his pursuits, as the
husbandman to his labor. They both fully enjoyed the stability
so necessary to success. But, as we shall see, the liberty and
well-being of the workmen of all classes were affected by the
frightful labors imposed on them in the public works.

BOOK SECOND.

THE POLITICAL, LEGAL, AND ADMINISTRATIVE INSTITUTIONS.

I.

ROYALTY.

The keystone of the social edifice in the ancient kingdom of Egypt
may be regarded as royalty. The crown was hereditary in the male line
in the order of primogeniture--brother succeeding to brother without
surviving children. In case of no son, the daughter succeeded her
father, and he whom she espoused was the queen's husband, but not the
king.

The king, through the different members of his family, presided in
all the branches of the government and public administration, thus
giving perfect unity and complete monarchical power. "In fact," says
Champollion, "the dignities of the different orders were reserved
for the king's sons by the laws of the country. The oldest son of
Sesostris bore the titles of Fan-bearer of the king's left hand,
Royal Secretary, Basilico-grammatist, and Commander-in-chief of the
Army. The second son was also Fan-bearer of the king's left hand,
Royal Secretary, and Commander-in-chief of the Royal Guard. The third
son added to the two first titles that of Commander-in-chief of the
Cavalry. The same qualifications were also given to other princes,
and seem to have belonged to all the royal generations, as well
as several sacerdotal and civil titles, such as prophets (a class
of priests) of different gods, high-priest of Ammon, and supreme
head of different civil functions." Thus the king concentrated
in his family the most important offices in the army, the civil
administration, and the priesthood.

Finally, the better to consecrate the principle that all power and
dignity had their source in the throne, the principal leaders in the
army and administration received the title of the king's cousin,
relative, or friend.[205]

Such was the real nature of the royal power in the eyes of ancient
Egypt.

"The Egyptians were generally considered the most grateful of men
toward their benefactors. They considered the best guarantee of
society to be a reciprocal interchange of services and gratitude. It
is true, men are more inclined to be useful to others when a real
benefit is to be derived from the gratitude of the obliged. It was
from these motives the Egyptians respected and adored their kings
as if they were gods. The sovereign authority, divinely conferred,
according to their belief, with will and power to diffuse benefits,
was to them a godlike attribute."[206]

While giving the consecration of a divine character to the royal
authority, the wise legislators of old Egypt did not the less take
the precautions, suggested by a profound knowledge of human nature,
of restricting the monarchical power within just limits, of inspiring
the king with virtuous inclinations, and of preventing him from
evil-doing. "In the first place, the kings of Egypt did not lead
as free and independent a life as the kings of other nations. They
could not act according to their own will. Everything was regulated
by law, not only their public, but their daily private life. They
were served, not by bondsmen or slaves, but by the sons of the chief
priests, reared with the greatest care, and more than twenty years of
age. The king, thus served day and night by real models of virtue,
would never be countenanced in any blamable action. For a sovereign
would not be worse than any other man if he had not around him those
who flattered his desires. The precise duties of the king for every
hour of the day and night were fixed by law, and not left to his own
inclinations. His first act in the morning was to read the letters
sent from every direction, that he might be thoroughly informed of
all that had occurred in the kingdom, and act in consequence. Then,
after bathing, putting on magnificent garments, and assuming the
insignia of royalty, he offered a sacrifice to the gods. The victims
were led to the altar; the high-priest, according to custom, stood
near the king, and, in presence of the people, prayed the gods aloud
to preserve the king in health and all other blessings as long
as he fulfilled the laws. At the same time, the high-priest was
obliged to enumerate the virtues of the king, and dwell on his piety
towards the gods and his meekness towards man, representing him as
temperate, just, magnanimous, opposed to lying, loving to do good,
the complete master of his passions, inflicting on the guilty the
least punishment merited, and recompensing good actions beyond their
value. After the addition of similar praises, the priest ended by an
imprecation against all faults committed through ignorance; for the
king, being irresponsible, imputed all his faults to his ministers
and counsellors, on whom was invoked the merited chastisement. The
high-priest acted thus in order to inspire the king with a fear of
the gods, and habituate him to a pious and exemplary life, not by
a bitter exhortation, but by attractive praises of the practice
of virtue. Finally, the king inspected the entrails of the victim,
and declared the favorable auspices. The hierogrammatist read some
sentences and useful accounts of celebrated men from the sacred
books, that the sovereign might select an example by which to
regulate his actions. There was a fixed time not only for audiences,
but for exercise, the bath, and, in short, for every act of life.
The king was accustomed to live on simple food. He was allowed veal
and goose for meat. He could only drink a certain quantity of wine
that would neither produce repletion nor intoxication. In a word, the
prescribed regimen was so regular that it might be supposed ordained
not by legislators, but by the best physicians, aiming only at the
preservation of health.

"It seems strange for a king not to be at liberty to choose his daily
food, and still more so that he could not pronounce a judgment or
take a decision, or punish any one through passion or caprice, or any
other unjust reason, but be forced to act according to the laws fixed
for each particular case. As it was an established custom, the king
could not take offence, and he was not discontented with his lot. On
the contrary, he considered his a very happy life, while other men,
abandoned without restraint to their natural passions, were exposed
to many inconveniences and dangers. He thought himself fortunate
in often seeing other men violate their consciences by persisting
in bad designs, influenced by love, hatred, or some other passion,
while he himself, emulous of living after the example of the wisest
of men, could only fall into venial errors. Animated with such just
sentiments, the king conciliated the affection of his people as that
of his family. Not only the priesthood, but all the Egyptian nation
were less solicitous about their own families and possessions than
about the safety of the king.[207] All the kings mentioned followed
this political _régime_ for a long time, and led a happy life under
these laws. Besides, they conquered many nations, acquired great
wealth, adorned the country with wonderful works and monuments, and
the cities with rich and varied ornaments."[208]

We have thought proper to quote this long passage from Diodorus,
because it clearly shows how the Egyptians regarded the duties and
attributes of royalty. A limited knowledge of their sentiments makes
us feel that Diodorus must have faithfully described the regulations
maintained by the priests from the beginning of this ancient
monarchy. Until the latest times, that is, till the Roman conquest,
the prince, called to the throne by his birth, was enthroned and
consecrated in a general assembly of the priesthood convoked at
Memphis, "in order to observe the legal ceremonies prescribed for the
coronation."[209]

When we examine the sacerdotal order, the influence it exercised over
the king, in keeping him within the limits of moderation and justice,
will be perceived.

The veneration of the Egyptians for their kings led them from the
first to render them divine honors. "Egypt," says M. Mariette, "had a
genuine worship for its kings, whom they styled beneficent gods, and
regarded as the 'Sons of the Sun.'"

"The ureus (the asp) ornamented the brows of all the kings. It is
also found adorning the foreheads of some of the gods. 'The asp does
not grow old,' says Plutarch (Isis and Osiris), 'and, though without
organs of locomotion, it moves with great facility.' The Egyptians
considered it as the emblem of the eternal youth of the sun and its
course in the heavens."

The sentiment of loyalty was carried so far among the Egyptians that
it was considered a duty to obey their kings even in the caprices of
their fantasy and pride. They respected those who were bad while they
lived, reserving the right of judging them after their death.

"What took place at the death of their kings was not one of the
least proofs of their attachment to them, for the honors rendered
to the dead are an incontestable proof of sincerity of affection.
When one of the kings died, all the inhabitants mourned, rent
their garments, closed the temples, abstained from sacrifices, and
celebrated no festivals for seventy-two days. Every one passed the
prescribed number of days in affliction and mourning, as for the
death of a cherished child. During this time preparations were made
for a magnificent funeral, and on the last day they placed the chest
containing the body of the deceased at the entrance of the tomb.
They then proceeded, according to the law, to pass judgment on all
the king had done during his life. Every one had the right of making
his accusation. The priests pronounced a panegyric, relating the
praiseworthy deeds of the king. Thousands of auditors applauded it
if the king's life had been without reproach; if otherwise, they
expressed their disapproval by murmurs. Many kings, through the
opposition of the people, were deprived of suitable burial. This
led their successors to deal justly, not only for reasons already
mentioned, but for fear their bodies might be treated ignominiously
after death, and their memory be for ever cursed."[210]

"There are still to be seen in Egypt," says Champollion-Figeac,
"testimonies significant of this custom. The names of some sovereigns
are carefully effaced from the monuments they had erected during
their reign. They are carefully hammered down even on their tombs."
Among the names of the kings thus condemned after death, Champollion
mentions that of Pharaoh Mandouéi, of the eighteenth dynasty.
Wherever this name stood, on all representations of the king, or on
the edifices he had erected, it is carefully effaced and hammered,
though expressed by the image of the god Mandou, whose name he bore.
The systematic suppression of this king's name on all the public
monuments can only be explained as the result of one of those severe
judgments passed by the Egyptian nation upon wicked kings after their
death.[211]

"There was in Egypt," says Bossuet, "a kind of judgment, quite
extraordinary, which no one escaped.... This custom of judging kings
after their death appeared so sacred to the people of God, that they
always practised it. We see in the Scriptures that wicked kings were
deprived of burial among their ancestors, and we learn from Josephus
that this custom was still kept up in the time of the Asmoneans. It
led kings to remember that, if above human judgment during their
lives, they must be subjected thereto when death reduced them to the
level of ordinary mortals."[212]

Notwithstanding so many wise precautions, the kings of Egypt did
not always pursue the course so clearly marked out by the national
traditions and the interests of the nation. More than one Pharaoh,
intoxicated by sovereign authority, made his subjects experience the
heavy hand of tyranny. The numerous changes of dynasties (thirty-one
are reckoned before the conquest by Alexander the Great) also show
that the nation more than once succeeded in overthrowing the despotic
government of those that abused their power. But, through all changes
of dynasties, and in spite of the struggles of rival families, the
Egyptians always remained faithful to the monarchical principle,
indissolubly attached to its institutions, customs, and manners.
"At no time," says Herodotus, "have the Egyptians been able to live
without kings."

FOOTNOTES:

[181] Mariette, _Notice des principaux Monuments exposés dans les
Galeries provisoires du Musée d'Antiquités Egyptiennes de S. A. le
Vice-Roi, à Boulaq_. Alexandrie. 1864. It may be well to remark
here that the antiquity of the Egyptian nation is by no means
irreconcilable with the Septuagint, as Mgr. Meignan shows in his
learned work on _Le Monde primitif_, pp. 164 and 151. Paris. 1869.
Palmé.

[182] _Egypt ancienne_, by Champollion-Figeac. Paris. 1859.

[183] _Aperçu de l'Histoire d'Egypte depuis les Temps les plus
reculés jusqu'à la Conquête Musulmane._ By Auguste Mariette-Bey,
Director of the Company for the Preservation of Egyptian Antiquities.
Alexandria. 1864.

[184] E. Renan. _Les Antiquités et les Fouilles d'Egypte_ (_Revue des
Deux Mondes_, for April 1, 1865).

[185] H. Dufresne, _Moniteur Officiel_ for July 2, 1867.

[186] Gladstone.

[187] Bossuet, _Discours sur l'Histoire universelle_.

[188] Robiau, _Histoire ancienne du Peuple de l'Orient_, p. 83.

[189] Mariette, _Notice des principaux Monuments du Musée
d'Antiquités Egyptiennes à Boulaq_, P. 75.

[190] Little moral treatise by Phtah-Hotep, who lived in the reign
of Assa-Tatkera, the last king but one of the fifth dynasty--partly
translated by M. Chabas in the _Revue Archéol._, xxix., first series.

[191] Champollion-Figeac, _Egypte ancienne_, 173.

[192] Robiau, _Histoire anc. des Peuples de l'Orient_.

[193] De Bonald, _Thêorie du Pouvoir_, vol. i. p. 253.

[194] Champollion-Figeac.

[195] Champollion-Figeac, _Egypte ancienne_, p. 173.

[196] Diodorus.

[197] Bossuet, _Discours sur l'Histoire univ_. The passage from
Diodorus which inspired the sagacious reflections of the illustrious
Bishop of Meaux is this: "Wrestling and music are not allowed to be
taught, for, according to the Egyptian belief, the daily exercise of
the body gives young men not health, but a transient strength which
is prejudicial. As to music, it is considered not only useless, but
injurious, as rendering the mind of man effeminate."

[198] The large wigs so often found on the monuments of the ancient
monarchy, worn by both sexes, like the turban, were a preservative
against the ardor of the sun's rays.

[199] Herodotus; Diodorus Siculus.

[200] Bossuet, _Histoire universelle_.

[201] _Des Castes et de la Transmission héréditaire des Professions
dans l'ancienne Egypte_: a memoir published in the _Journal
général de l'Instruction publique_, and in Vol. X. of the _Revue
Archéologique_. Ampère proves by this learned _étude_ that "there
were no _castes_ among the ancient Egyptians in the strict sense
of that word, as it is used in India, for example." He very
satisfactorily explains how a slight inexactness in the histories
of Herodotus and Diodorus respecting hereditary transmission in the
class of priests and warriors, "sufficed to found on this inheritance
of pursuits and the separation of classes in Egypt, a theory that
ended by becoming completely erroneous." M. Egger, in speaking of
hereditary professions, says: "It is known that every degree of the
social scale in ancient Egypt rested on this foundation. It was for
a long time believed, according to Herodotus and Diodorus, that
the Egyptian castes were absolutely exclusive; but an interesting
memoir by J. J. Ampère (1848) proves the contrary, and scientific
discoveries daily confirm the truth of his observations." (_Bulletin
de la Société d' Economie Sociale_, June, 1868.)

[202] Diodorus. With the exception of certain fabulous relations,
easily recognized by their mythological character, we consider
as perfectly credible the interesting details Diodorus has left
concerning the manners, laws, and institutions of ancient Egypt. He
had visited that country himself, and did not depend on the testimony
of others. "We give," says he, "the facts we have carefully examined,
which are preserved in the records of the Egyptian priesthood." After
stating that he visited that country under Ptolemy, son of Lagus,
during the 180th Olympiad, he adds: "During our travels in Egypt we
had intercourse with many priests, and conversed with a great number
of Ethiopian envoys. After carefully collecting all the information
we could find on the subject, and examining the accounts of
historians, we have only admitted into our narration facts generally
received." Lib. iii.

[203] M. Troplong.

[204] Probably superintendents is meant.

[205] Champollion-Figeac.

[206] Diodorus.

[207] The ritual of the dead puts the following beautiful words into
the mouth of the deceased, when he justifies himself before the
tribunal of Osiris: "I have spoken ill neither of the king nor my own
father."

[208] Diodorus.

[209] Decree of 196 B.C., found on the Rosetta Stone.

[210] Diodorus.

[211] It could also be explained as the effect of a reaction which
often accompanies a change of dynasty. M. F. Lenormant regards this
judgment of kings as a mere fable. "The king when dead," says he,
"was as much of a god as when living." Doubtless, but the Cæsars were
also during their lives raised to the rank of divinities, which did
not prevent the Romans from killing several. We see no difficulty in
admitting the explicit testimony of Diodorus, corroborated by the
opinion of Champollion the Younger as well as his brother.

[212] Bossuet, _Histoire univ._, ii. 177. The Israelites probably
borrowed this custom from the Egyptians.

MR. CARLYLE AND PÈRE BOUHOURS.

Crying injustice and endless heartburnings are caused in social life
by the falsehoods which malicious or foolish people shelter under the
familiar quotation rubric, "said he" or "said she." For these we may
charitably and to some extent allow uncertainty of human memory to go
in extenuation.

Rising above the circle of cackling gossip, we know that, out of a
dozen witnesses solemnly adjured to testify as to words spoken in
simultaneous hearing of all the twelve, it is rare to find any three
of them agreeing as to the precise form of locution used, even where
they accord as to meaning and signification of the phrase they report.

We pass from the spoken to the written word, and are struck with the
fact that, even in literature and in history, the too common neglect
of conscientious accuracy of citations, in accepting them at second
hand or from a questionable source, is the fruitful cause of wrong
judgment of events, false estimate of men, and uncharitableness
without end.

If it is sought to hold a man responsible for opinions which he
has deliberately written and printed, he is in justice to be held
answerable solely by his own record, neither more nor less. No
occasion is there here for conflicting testimony. If arraigned for
those opinions, let the accusation run--_ipsissimis verbis_--with
what he has written. Otherwise, flaw fatal will be found, and
indictment sternly quashed. _Scripta manent_--his opinions are
recorded, and no subsequent version may be heard from him to vary
the obligation therein assumed. Neither, therefore, in justice, shall
you admit adverse parol testimony in guise of unfriendly gloss or
explanation to hold him responsible for more than he has advanced or
assumed.

With swift instinct, we all mistrust reported verbal utterances
made by a man whose prejudice or whose passion evidently colors his
memory and stimulates his imagination. And, although the excuse of
mistake or misunderstanding is not admissible where the repetition or
citation of printed words is concerned, yet, when a writer is quoted
in the spirit of ridicule, blame, or sarcasm, it should suffice to
put the reader on inquiry. Before he adopts and thereby vouches for
the attributed phrase, let him look well to it that the text is not
tampered with, and that the passage, as given, be not modified--not
to say changed--by omission or addition. A mere comma too much or too
little, as we well know, may make sad havoc with a sentence, and turn
truth into falsehood.

Old authors, and even some few careful writers down to the present
day, show their appreciation of this responsibility in quotation by
intrenching themselves behind an _apud_ in cases where, from any
cause, they are unable to verify the correctness of the passage
cited; thus throwing the burden of proof on the reporter named by
them.

A remarkable instance of the neglect of some such precautions as
are here mentioned may be found in a somewhat familiar citation
made--and, we may add, made celebrated--by no less a literary
authority than Mr. Carlyle.

It occurs in one of his most admirable productions, entitled _The
State of German Literature_.

This essay, which originally appeared, in 1827, as an article in the
_Edinburgh Review_, is rich in literary research and vigorous thought.

It is valuable not only for what it says concerning German
literature, but concerning all literature, and is most generally
enjoyed and best remembered by reason of its eloquent pillorying
and remorseless flagellation of one Père Bouhours, who, as Mr.
Carlyle informs us, propounded to himself the pregnant question: _Si
un Allemand peut avoir de l'esprit?_ Indignantly the great Scotch
essayist thus bursts out upon the unfortunate Frenchman: "Had the
Père Bouhours bethought him of what country Kepler and Leibnitz were
born, or who it was that gave to mankind the three great elements
of modern civilization, gunpowder, printing, and the Protestant
religion, it might have thrown light on his inquiry. Had he known the
_Niebelungen-Lied_, and where _Reinecke-Fuchs_, and _Faust_, and the
_Ship of Fools_, and four-fifths of all the popular mythology, humor,
and romance to be found in Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries, took its rise; had he read a page or two of Ulrich Hutten,
Opitz, Paul Flemming, Logan, or even Lobenstein and Hoffmanswaldau,
all of whom had already lived and written even in his day; had the
Père Bouhours taken this trouble, who knows but he might have found,
with whatever amazement, that a German could actually have a little
_esprit_, or, perhaps, even something better? No such trouble was
requisite for the Père Bouhours. Motion _in vacuo_ is well known to
be speedier and surer than through a resisting medium, especially to
imponderable bodies; and so the light Jesuit, unimpeded by facts or
principles of any kind, failed not to reach his conclusions; and, in
a comfortable frame of mind, to decide negatively that a German could
_not_ have any literary talent."

Now, if Père Bouhours really said what is here attributed to him,
this fulmination, all obvious as it is, cannot be looked upon as
unprovoked, and we may listen with sense of satisfied justice to the
dreadful sentence pronounced upon him, which is substantially that,
incarcerated in the immortal amber of this one untimely joke, the
helpless Jesuit be doomed therein to live; "for the blessing of full
oblivion is denied him, and so he hangs suspended to his own noose,
over the dusky pool which he struggles toward, but for a great while
will not reach." To these remarks Mr. Carlyle adds the very sensible
reflection: "For surely the pleasure of despising, at all times and
in itself a dangerous luxury, is much safer _after_ the toil of
examining than before it."

This condemnation and sentence are based on a detached phrase
separated from its contexts, and Mr. Carlyle fails to tell us in what
connection or in what work was made the unfortunate speech for which
the French writer is thus beaten with many stripes.

Might it not be that, read in its proper relation, his words signify
something very different from the interpretation placed upon them as
here severed? So true is this that what Père Bouhours really wrote
has a very different signification. Investigation demonstrates this
and more, and shows that Père Bouhours not only did not mean to
express what is here attributed to him, but that he did not even use
the words thus thrust upon him as his own.

Indeed, the ill-used Bouhours is introduced and dispatched so very
summarily, that the reader of the Edinburgh essay scarcely obtains
more than a glance of a literary criminal rapidly judged and sent to
swift execution.

Let us see for a moment what manner of man this Bouhours appeared to
the people of his day and generation. As then known, he was a writer
of high reputation (_hors ligne_) and the author of several works,
some of which are still read and republished. We find certain of his
books on the shelves of our largest American libraries, and a few
days since, in looking casually through a catalogue of publications
made (1869) at the Armenian convent in Venice, an interesting
spot well known to American travellers, we noted two editions of
Bouhours's _Christian Meditations_, one in French and one in a
Turkish translation.

Bouhours is also the author of a French translation of the entire New
Testament, which is remarkable for its fidelity and its purity of
diction.

It is the version adopted by Lallemant in his _Reflections on the New
Testament_. He also wrote _Remarks and Doubts concerning the French
Language_, and _Ingenious Thoughts of the Fathers_. His _Manière de
bien Penser_ is held by the best critics to contain much that evinces
acuteness and delicacy of discrimination. Bouhours was always quoted
and referred to by his contemporaries with deference.

His _Life of St. Francis Xavier_ was found worthy of an English
translation by no less a celebrity than the English poet Dryden; and
La Harpe, who is openly unfriendly to Bouhours, says of him, "C'était
un homme lettré qui savait l'Italien et l'Espagnol."

The passage incorrectly cited by Mr. Carlyle occurs in _Les
Entretiens a'Ariste et d'Eugène_, a small duodecimo volume published
in 1671.

These _Entretiens_ or conversations are supposed to be held by two
gentlemen of literary taste, who discuss a variety of subjects
pertaining to polite literature.

One of these topics is the French language, which is assumed to be
the best of all modern languages, possessing, as it does, the secret
of uniting conciseness with clearness, and purity with politeness. On
this question of his native tongue, the patriotism of Père Bouhours
hurries him into terms of excessive praise. The French language, in
his opinion, combines every excellence. The Spanish he characterizes
as a noisy torrent flooding its banks and overspreading the country;
the Italian, as a gentle rivulet; the French, a majestic stream that
never quits its level.

The Spanish, again, he compares to a proud beauty, bold in demeanor
and splendid in attire; the Italian, to a painted coquette, ever
ornamented for effect; the French, to a modest, agreeable lady, who,
if apparently prudish, is neither uncivil nor repulsive. Then, he
adds, our own pronunciation is the most natural and pleasing.

Patriotism of so warm a character as this, after elevating French
language and literature so freely at the expense of the Spanish and
Italian, would hardly be likely to rate the German very high.

Accordingly, in view of the great preponderance of heavy though
learned disquisition over that branch of German literature which
might be classed as polished and witty, Père Bouhours did really
propose the question,

      SI UN ALLEMAND PEUT ETRE BEL ESPRIT?

--a proposition very far from identical with that which is attributed
to him by Mr. Carlyle, namely:

      SI UN ALLEMAND PEUT AVOIR DE L'ESPRIT?

The variation simply being that Bouhours did not, as here alleged,
decide negatively that a German could not have any literary talent,
but queried if a German could be a wit.

Truly a distinction with a difference.

Hallam, seldom incorrect in such matters, presents the matter fairly
in stating that the Père Bouhours "proposed the question whether a
German can by the nature of things possess any wit."

The misrepresentation made is a serious one, and the citation as
corrected deprives Mr. Carlyle's thunder of its noise, and extracts
from his sarcasm all its sting.

We believe it was Thackeray who said that, notwithstanding his
profound respect and deep veneration for the twelve apostles, they
really were not the sort of persons he should care to invite to a
festive dinner party.

Père Bouhours would doubtless, as readily as Mr. Carlyle, concede to
Kepler and Leibnitz all the merit the most enthusiastic German could
claim for these great men as shining lights of science, but would
hardly credit them with the ability to write the _Xenien_ or edit the
_Kladderadatsch_.

When Bouhours published his _Entretiens_, it is very certain that,
if German literature shone in wit, the fact was not known west of
the Rhine. Indeed, Mr. Carlyle himself, a few paragraphs further on,
unconsciously records the fullest vindication of Père Bouhours. With
a patriotism quite as fervent as that of his victim, he informs us
that "centuries ago translations from the German were comparatively
frequent in England," but to support this statement can only cite
_Luther's Table Talk_ and _Jacob Boehme_. Enumeration most scant and
melancholy! The essayist then goes on to say: "In the next century,
indeed, translation ceased; but then it was, in a great measure,
_because there was little worth translating_. The horrors of the
Thirty Years' War had desolated the country; French influence,
extending from the courts of princes to the closets of the learned,
lay like a baleful incubus over the far nobler ruins of Germany; and
all free nationality vanished from its literature, or was heard only
in faint tones, which lived in the hearts of the people, _but could
not reach with any effect to the ears of foreigners_."

But as though not satisfied with a general statement which should
justify Père Bouhours, Mr. Carlyle continues until he makes the
justification clear in terms and specific by dates, telling us: "From
the time of Opitz and Flemming to that of Klopstock and Lessing,
that is, from the early part of the seventeenth to the middle of the
eighteenth century, they [the Germans] had scarcely any literature
known abroad, _or deserving to be known_."

Now, Dominic Bouhours, born in Paris, 1628, asked the famous
question, _Si un Allemand peut être bel esprit?_ in 1671, and died
in 1702. Thus his earthly career was comprised precisely within the
period specified by Mr. Carlyle as that during which the Germans
were without not only _belles-lettres_, but any literature whatever
deserving to be known.

But, going back to the middle ages, Mr. Carlyle, strangely enough
holds Bouhours responsible, because of his want of familiarity with
the _Niebelungen-Lied_, _Reinecke-Fuchs_, and other monuments of
early German literature. "Had he known the _Niebelungen-Lied_" is
asked mockingly. This is hardly just, when we reflect that no one
better than Mr. Carlyle knows that Germany of the Bouhours period was
itself, in the main, ignorant of and profoundly indifferent to the
merits of these remarkable productions. Only long years afterward,
following on ages of oblivion as to their very existence in their own
country, were they brought to light, and it is principally owing to
the exertions of the comparatively new Romantic school that modern
Germany has been made acquainted with the _Niebelungen-Lied_ and
other great middle-age poems.

It is true that Bodmer in Switzerland first put a portion of the
_Niebelungen_ ("Chrimhilde's Revenge") in print, in 1757; but, as Mr.
Carlyle has elsewhere informed us, it was August Wilhelm Schlegel
who "succeeded in awakening something like a universal popular
feeling on the subject," and he refers to this and the like poems as
"manuscripts that for ages have lain dormant," and now come "from
their archives into public view," "a phenomenon unexpected till of
late"--stating that "the _Niebelungen_ is welcomed as a precious
national possession--_recovered after six centuries of neglect_."
From which it would appear that, at his peril, Bouhours, in 1671,
must be familiar with "a precious national possession" of the
Germans, which they themselves, before and after that period, treated
with "centuries of neglect." Being a Jesuit, it is, of course,
eminently proper, according to a time-honored custom in English
literature, that he should be made responsible for everything--the
Spanish Inquisition and Original Sin included.

Mr. Carlyle patriotically closes his eyes to English ignorance and
indifference touching German literature, even when claiming for
Great Britain only a lesser density of ignorance concerning it than
afflicted France.

Writing as late as 1827, he fairly admits that the literature and
character of Germany "are still very generally unknown to us, or,
what is worse, misknown," that its "false and tawdry ware" reached
England before "the chaste and truly excellent," and that "Kotzebue's
insanity spread faster by some fifty years than Lessing's wisdom."
And the British ignorance, it is admitted, is not confined to German
literature. "For what more do we know"--thus Mr. Carlyle clinches the
question--"of recent Spanish or Italian literature than of German; of
Grossi and Manzoni, of Campomanos or Jovellanos, than of Tieck and
Richter?"

Really, when we contemplate the enlightened Englishman of 1827 thus
held up to our gaze, how can we withhold from the abused Frenchman of
1671 our profound admiration?

Now, if, on reflection, Mr. Carlyle estimates the imputation on
German literature of a lack of wit and humor as a serious offence--if
he considers actionable and punishable Father Bouhours's query,

      SI UN ALLEMAND PEUT ETRE BEL ESPRIT?

he need not go back two centuries for a criminal of whom to make
an example. We have in custody for him one of this century--of
this decade--nay, of this very year. He is a living culprit, and,
moreover, a distinguished one. Here is a copy of the words in which
he offends, and, if we are not mistaken, he may be found in Mr.
Carlyle's bailiwick: "There is, perhaps, no nation where the general
standard of wit and humor is so low as with the Germans--no other
people at least are so easily entertained with indifferent jokes"
(_Saturday Review_, London, March 18, 1871).

OUR LADY OF LOURDES.

FROM THE FRENCH OF HENRI LASSERRE.

PART IX.

VII.

    PASTORAL LETTER OF THE BISHOP OF TARBES, GIVING HIS
    DECISION REGARDING THE APPARITIONS WHICH TOOK PLACE AT
    THE GROTTO OF LOURDES.

    "BERTRAND-SEVERE LAURENCE, by the divine mercy, and the
    favor of the Apostolic See, Bishop of Tarbes, Assistant
    at the Pontifical Throne, etc. To the clergy and
    faithful of our diocese, health and benediction in our
    Lord Jesus Christ.

    "Beloved co-laborers and most dear brethren: In
    all epochs of humanity, marvellous communications
    have taken place between earth and heaven. At the
    commencement of the world, the Lord appeared to our
    first parents to reproach them with their disobedience.
    During the ages which succeeded, we see him conversing
    with the patriarchs and prophets. The Old Testament
    is often nothing more than a history of the heavenly
    apparitions with which the children of Israel were
    favored. These favors did not cease with the Mosaic
    law; on the contrary, they became, under the law of
    grace, more striking, more numerous. In the infancy
    of the church, those times of bloody persecution, the
    Christians received visits from Jesus Christ and the
    angels, who came, sometimes, to reveal to them secrets
    of the future or to deliver them from their chains;
    at other times, to strengthen them for combat. Thus
    it was, according to a judicious writer, that God
    encouraged those illustrious confessors of the faith,
    when the powers of earth united to strangle in its
    cradle that truth which was to save the world.

    "These manifestations from the other world were not the
    exclusive lot of the first centuries of Christianity.
    History attests that they have been continued from age
    to age, for the glory of religion and the edification
    of the faithful. Among these heavenly apparitions,
    those of the Blessed Virgin occupy a prominent place,
    and have been an abundant source of blessing to the
    world. As the traveller journeys over that part of
    the earth which has been the home of Christianity, he
    everywhere meets temples consecrated to the Mother of
    God; and many of them owe their origin to an apparition
    of the Queen of heaven. We already possess one of these
    blessed sanctuaries, founded four centuries ago, on
    account of revelations made to a young shepherdess,