Part 2

Thus the apprehension of the KA, of a man’s Personality, as his _Doppelgänger_, or _Double_, found even in some of the oldest texts, acquired a far-reaching significance which extended not only to the doctrine of human immortality but also to the conception of the relations of gods to men.

As we have already stated, each man had a KA so long as he was alive, but at his death it left him and led an independent existence. Only after long wanderings did he meet it again in the world to come, and we still possess the prayer with which he was to greet it, beginning with the words, “Hail to thee who wast my KA during life! I come unto thee,” etc.[19]

Ȧmset. Dûamûtef. Hāpi. Qebhsenûf.]

[21] The illustration represents the set of Canopic vases dating from the Thirtieth Dynasty, made for the priest T’et-bast-auf-ānkh, and found by Prof. Petrie at _Hawara (Hawara, Biahmu, and Arsinoë_, p. 9). They are now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford.

The lids of such vases represent the four genii of the dead:

Ȧmset, [Illustration: {H}], man-headed; Dûamûtef, [Illustration: {H}], jackal-headed; Hāpi, [Illustration: {H}], cynocephalous; Qebhsenûf, [Illustration: {H}], hawk-headed.

The second immortal part of man was his heart ([Illustration:{H}] _àb_).[20] The heart was removed from the body by the embalmers, and the texts give no definite explanation as to what became of it. During certain periods of Egyptian history, but still comparatively rarely, it was enclosed, as were the rest of the viscera, in special alabaster, limestone, or wooden vases, of which four were placed with the mummy in its grave. These vases are generally but most erroneously called “Canopic” vases. They usually date from the times of the New Empire, but we have some few dating from the Ancient Empire. In other cases the viscera were replaced within the body after its embalmment, and with them waxen images of the four genii of the dead as their guardian divinities. But for the most part documents do not afford us any information as to what was done with the material heart. Perhaps the priests took measures for its disappearance in order to furnish some tangible foundation for their doctrine concerning the heart. Certain statements of Greek writers seem to imply some such proceeding. According to these authorities the viscera, which must have included the heart, were cast into the Nile, because they were designated as the source of all human error. Porphyry gives us even the form of the prayer which was repeated when the chest containing the intestines was presented before the Sun; and if the text of this prayer has not hitherto been confirmed from original documents it is yet so thoroughly Egyptian in character that its authenticity cannot be doubted.[22]

But the immortal heart of a man, which stood in a similar relationship to his material heart as his KA to the whole body, left him at death and journeyed on alone through the regions of the other world till it reached the “Abode of Hearts.” Its first meeting with the deceased to whom it had belonged was in the Hall of Judgment, where it stood forth as his accuser; for in it all his good and evil thoughts had found expression during his lifetime. They had not originated there, for the heart was essentially divine and pure, but it had of necessity harboured and known them,[23] and therefore it was called upon to testify concerning the man’s former thoughts and deeds before Osiris, judge of the dead.

In the meantime the mummy was without heart, and had become lifeless and dead; for to pierce the heart of anything was equivalent to utterly destroying it. The OSIRIS, too (to which we shall presently return), would have shared the fate of the mummy had the device not been conceived of providing the latter with an artificial heart in place of its own original one, which had returned to the gods. The provisional heart was represented by an artificial scarabæus, generally made of hard greenish stone in the image of the beetle, which was a symbol of genesis and resurrection (fig. 6). Underneath it was made flat, and inscribed with magic formulæ,[25] that it might be the substitute for the dead man’s heart, and also ensure his resurrection by virtue of its form. But when his own heart was restored to him the scarabæus lost its significance. Like all the rest of the amulets which the Egyptians gave to their dead, its efficacy only availed for the space of time intervening between death and the reunion of those elements which death had separated. When once the resurrection had taken place there was no further need of amulets, nor any hurt through lack of them.

Another immortal part of man was the [Illustration: {H}], [Illustration: {H}], [Illustration: {H}], BA. This conception most nearly corresponds to our “soul,” for it was a being which, on the death of the man in whom it had dwelt, left him in order to fly to the gods, to whom it was closely akin, and with whom it abode when not united to the man. But, nevertheless, the BA was neither immaterial nor able to dispense with food and drink.[26] It bore the form of a human-headed bird (fig. 7), sometimes with hands (figs. 10, 14); or of a ram-headed scarabæus (fig, 8). From the fifteenth to the eleventh century B.C. it was preferably represented under the second form which is really nothing more than its hieroglyphic symbol. The phonetic value of the ram, [Illustration: {H}], is _ba_, and of the scarabæus, [Illustration: {H}], _kheper_, which latter means _to be, to become_; and the composite figure of the ram-headed scarabæus signifies, therefore, something like “he who has become a soul.”

It is otherwise with the first image, which really represents the soul as it was imagined by the Egyptians. We have sculptured figures and drawings (fig. 9) showing the little soul perched by the sarcophagus, touching the mummy, and bidding it farewell before rising to the gods.[28] In other scenes the soul is depicted as it comes flying from heaven with the sign of life in its hand, and approaching the grave to visit the mummy; or as flying down into the vault with the offerings which it had found at the door of the tomb, bringing bread in one hand and a jar of water in the other, as food and drink for the body which once invested it (fig. 10).

This conception of the soul as a kind of bird is noteworthy when compared with the ideas which other nations have formed of it. The Greeks sometimes represented the εἴδωλον, or soul, as a small winged human figure (fig. 11); in Roman times it was imagined as a butterfly (fig. 12); and in mediæval reliefs and pictures we see it leaving the mouth of the dead man as a child (fig. 13), or a little naked man.[29] The latter form recalls that of the Egyptian KA, although the idea which it embodies reminds one rather of the BA.

The [Illustration: {H}], SĀHÛ, also was considered as immortal. This is invariably depicted as a swathed mummy, and represented the form which the man wore upon earth. Originally it was related to the KA, but whereas the latter was a complete Personality, the SĀHÛ was nothing but a hull,—a form without contents. Yet this also was of the gods and imperishable, returning to its heavenly home when death had set it free. Since the body, or KHA[30] had also the same form, it naturally came about that when the mummy was mentioned in religious texts as reanimated by the KA it was frequently confounded with the SĀHÛ. In this sense it is said that “the SĀHÛ lives in the Sarcophagus (or in the underworld), it grows (_rûd_), it renews itself (_renp_).”[31] But in more precise texts the two things are kept distinct, as, _e.g._, “the BA (soul) sees its KHA, it rests upon its SĀHÛ.”[32] At such times the BA had power over the SĀHÛ, and, as is said on the Sarcophagus of Panehemisis, “the SĀHÛ lives at the command of the BA.”[33]

In close connection with the Sāhû was the [Illustration: {H}], KHAÏB, the shadow, represented as a fan, or sunshade (fig. 14), in scenes professing to portray the next world.[34]

As all earthly forms must needs have their shadows, such was also the case with things in the world to come; there, too, the sun shone and all the optical phenomena of earth were repeated. But, not content to accept this as a simple fact, the Egyptians ascribed separate existences both to the shadows of the dead and to those of gods and genii. According to Egyptian belief a shadow might live on independently, apart from its owner, and this was exactly what it was supposed to do at the moment when death had taken place; then the KHAÏB went forth alone to appear in the realm of the gods. This Ancient Egyptian idea of the independent existence of a man’s shadow recalls to our minds Chamisso’s story of Peter Schlemihl, published in 1823.[35]

The KA, the ÅB, the BA, the SĀHÛ, and the KHAÏB constituted the chief elements of that which was immortal in man, but others were also occasionally included, especially one which was called the Khû, [Illustration: {H}], i.e. the Luminous.[36] To these, however, there is less frequent reference; they were of importance in local cults only, and were either included among the parts already mentioned or were so vaguely defined that they may be safely left out of account in treating of the soul as conceived by the Egyptians without danger of our conception being falsified by the omission.

* * * * *

When the immortal was thus resolved into its component parts at death, what then became of the human individuality which had resulted from their combined action, and how could its different parts find each other again in the next world, in order to form the new man of the resurrection? The Egyptians had evolved a very simple solution of this problem, although one which, according to our mode of thought, stands in direct contradiction to their doctrine of the soul. It was assumed that in addition to his immortal elements the man as a person of a particular appearance and character was also endowed with a kind of deathlessness, which seems to have held good only for a time, and not for ever. To this conception of a dead man, in whom soul and life were lacking but who in the interim still possessed existence, feeling, and thought, the Egyptians gave the name of OSIRIS.

Osiris was the first divine King of Egypt who reigned in true human likeness; he civilised the Egyptians, instructed them in agriculture, gave them laws, and taught them true religion. After a long and blessed reign he fell a prey to the machinations of his brother Set (Typhon), and having been slain was constrained to descend into the underworld, where he evermore lived and reigned as judge and king of the dead. His fate of death was the fate of all men. Every one, when his earthly pilgrimage was ended, must descend into the underworld by the gates of death; but each man hoped to rise again, even as Osiris had risen, to lead henceforth the life of the blessed. In this hope men called their dead OSIRIS, just as Germans speak of their dead as “blessed,”—hoping that blessedness may indeed be their lot. Death had not changed Osiris; as he had been king on earth, so he was king in the world beyond death. In the same way man, too, remained that which he had been here; death merely made a break in his life, without altering any of his conditions of existence.

The relation subsisting between a man’s OSIRIS and his mummy was not clearly apprehended, even by the Egyptians themselves. Identical they were not—that fact is obviously implied by the texts, which never once substitute the mummy for the Osiris; men knew also from experience that no mummy had ever left its place of embalmment, or the tomb, to journey on into the next world. Yet mummy and OSIRIS were nevertheless not entirely different and distinct; both had the same appearance and the same character. Moreover, the texts describe the OSIRIS as resembling the mummy in appearance while really differing from it, and the embalmers equipped the mummy as though it were called upon to journey forth as the OSIRIS. The inherent contradiction in all this arose principally from the fact that the Egyptian hoped and believed that shortly after death he would arise again, complete in flesh and blood as he had lived upon earth; whereas experience contradicted his creed, for it showed him that the mummy never did and never could leave the earth. He extricated himself from the dilemma by providing the mummy with a _Doppelgänger_: its own perfect counterpart, yet not itself. When once we have familiarised ourselves with this singular idea we find in it a simple key to all the riddles of the OSIRIS.

The mummy was provided with an artificial heart in the shape of a scarabæus,[37] because the Osiris could not live without one, and also with various amulets, by virtue of every one of which demons of the next world could be overcome. A stuccoed disc of papyrus, linen, or bronze, which, by the figures and formulæ inscribed upon it, had mystic power to preserve the needful warmth of life to the Osiris (fig. 15), was placed under the head of the mummy.[38] The soles of the feet which had trodden the mire of earth were removed in order that the OSIRIS might tread the Hall of Judgment with pure feet; and the gods were prayed to grant milk to the Osiris that he might bathe his feet in it and so assuage the pain which the removal of the soles must needs have caused him. And, finally, the soles which had been excised were placed within the mummy in order that the OSIRIS might find them to hand for the completion of his Personality.[39] That nothing might be wanting to this Personality, the gods were besought that the mummy should not suffer earthly corruption, and it was held to be of supreme importance that flesh and bones, muscles and limbs should all remain in place. With the mummy were also placed _The Book of the Dead_, as well as other religious and mystic texts needed by the OSIRIS for his guidance through the regions beyond the grave, and from which he might learn the prayers which had to be spoken in due order and place according to strict prescriptions. In short, the mummy was treated precisely as though it were an OSIRIS. But the difference was great: the mummy remained within the sarcophagus in the sepulchral chamber, while the OSIRIS proceeded on his way.

The journey of the OSIRIS, treated at wearisome length, forms the favourite subject of Egyptian texts, and to this is devoted the largest and best known work in the religious literature of the nation: the compilation called by us _The Book of the Dead_. This book contains no systematic account of the journey, such as the analogy of similar literatures might lead us to expect, but exhibits it in a series of disconnected stages by giving the prayers which the OSIRIS must repeat when passing through different parts of the underworld, or on encountering certain genii there. A chapter is devoted to each prayer, but the chapters do not follow each other in the order in which the prayers were to be used. The Egyptians never attained to any clear idea of the Osirian underworld; the same confusion and obscurity reigned over it as over their whole conception of the unseen world and of deity. They pondered deeply over a series of separate problems without being able to unite the results into one consistent whole, which should command acceptance, or to form any definite and permanent topography of the regions beyond the tomb. Hence there is no fixed sequence for the chapters of _The Book of the Dead_; the order varies materially in the different manuscripts to which we are indebted for our knowledge of the work. The number of chapters in the different copies also varies; while in some it is small, in others, as in the Ptolemaic copy for a certain Aûfānkh, published by Lepsius, it reaches to one hundred and sixty-five. Since there was no fixed rule as to order or number, priest or scribe might make a selection of such chapters as he or the family of the deceased held to be the most essential, and each was at liberty to form for himself a more or less modified conception of the characteristics of the underworld.

We cannot here follow the OSIRIS through all the details of his journey, but must be content to know that according to the account in _The Book of the Dead_ he issued victorious from all his trials, overcame all enemies whom he encountered, and was ushered at length into the Hall of the Double Truth, and received by the goddess of Truth. Here also he found the chief gods of the Osirian cycle gathered together, and the forty-two assessors of Divine Justice near the canopy under which the god Osiris was enthroned. Then the deceased spoke, and proceeded to recite the “Negative Confession”—a denial of sins of commission—declaring that he had not been guilty of certain definite sins, and denying one or another particular form of guilt to each of the assessors. He had not done evil, had not robbed, nor murdered, nor lied, not caused any to weep, not injured the property of the gods, and so on.[40] The judges heard all in silence, giving no sign either of approval or disapproval; but when the confession was ended the heart of the deceased was brought forward and laid in the scales against the image or symbol of Truth. The weighing was superintended by the gods Anubis and Horus, while Thot, the scribe of the gods, stood by ready to record the result (fig. 16).[41]

This was the time for the deceased anxiously to call upon his heart in the prescribed formula from _The Book of the Dead_,[42] not to bear witness against him, for “the heart of a man is his own god,”[43] and must now determine his everlasting fate. If his heart were content with him, and the scales turned in his favour, then the god Thot commanded that his heart should be restored to him to be set again in its place. This was done, and forthwith the immortal elements which death had separated began to reunite. His KA, and all the remaining parts of himself, were now restored to the justified OSIRIS, who was thus built up into the complete man who had once walked the earth, and who now entered upon a new life, the everlasting life of the righteous and the blessed. He was joyfully admitted by the gods into their circle, and was henceforth as one of them.

_The Book of the Dead_ and cognate religious texts, always assume that judgment goes in favour of the deceased, that his heart approves him, and that he becomes one of the blessed. Nowhere are we clearly informed as to the fate of the condemned who could not stand before the god Osiris. We are told that the enemies of the gods perish, that they are destroyed or overthrown; but such vague expressions afford no certainty as to how far the Egyptians in general believed in the existence of a hell as a place of punishment or purification for the wicked;[44] or whether, as seems more probable, they held some general belief that when judgment was pronounced against a man his heart and other immortal parts were not restored to him. For such a man no re-edification and no resurrection was possible. The immortal elements were divine, and by nature pure and imperishable; but they could be preserved from entering the OSIRIS, from re-entering the hull of the man who had proved himself unworthy of them. The soul, indeed, as such did not die, although personal annihilation was the lot of the evil-doer in whom it had dwelt. But it was the hope of continued individuality which their doctrine held out to the Egyptians; this it was which they promised to the good and in all probability denied to the wicked.