genius, and opportunity, rather than hoarders of money, influence, and power. Shakespeare gave full value to sagacity, prudence, and poise of character, but he loved the adventurers because the light of the imagination was on their careers and the touch of tragedy on their fortunes. It is easy to understand, therefore, how deeply the fate of Essex and Southampton weighed upon his heart. In their downfall the iron entered his own soul. When Elizabeth died in 1603, he remained silent while the chorus of poets. filled the air with plaintive eulogy. Chettle complained that "the silver-tongued Melicert," as he called Shakespeare, did not "drop from his hound-muse one sable tear." The temper of the time had changed, and there were unmistakable signs of the approaching storm. The deep cleavage which was to divide the English people for many decades began to be visible. The Puritan spirit was steadily rising under the pressure of restriction and persecution; the deep springs of gayety in the English nature, which ran to the surface in all manner of festivals and merrymaking, in a love of the dance, in a passion for music and an almost universal knowledge of the art, in the habit of I improvising songs and a general appreciation of the singing quality which gave English literature almost a century of spontaneous and captivating song-writing, were beginning to flow less freely and with diminished volume. It was not, therefore, a matter of accident, or as a result of deliberate artistic prevision, that, about 1601, Shakespeare began to write tragedies, and continued for seven or eight years to deal with the most perplexing and somber problems of character and of life. He had passed through an emotional experience which had evidently stirred his spirit to the depths; the atmosphere in which he lived was disturbed by bitter controversies ; men whom he honored and loved had become the victims of a tragic fate; and the age was troubled with forebodings of coming strife. The poet was entering into the anguish of suffering and sharing the universal experience of loss, surrender, denial, and death. He had buried his only son, Hamnet, in the summer of 1596; in the autumn of 1601 his father, in whose fortunes he had manifested a deep interest, died at Stratford, and was buried in the quiet churchyard beside the Avon. The poet had learned much of life; he was now to learn much of death also. The St. Paul Public Baths 'N the Mississippi River, right opposite the most populous part of the city of St. Paul, is a low island of about fifty acres. Until this year it was covered with marsh grasses and a tangled mass of lowbranching poplars and wild undergrowth. It lay between two of the most traveled bridges over the river, within five minutes' walk of the City Hall, and with a trolleyline almost touching its lower end, so manifestly a waste product that almost no attention was paid to it. Within a few blocks men, women, and children were crowded into tenements. Some one has defined a great man as one who utilizes a waste product for a great human need. By this definition Dr. J. Ohage is one of St. Paul's great men. This far-sighted, generous, energetic German physician has for years been quietly buying up the tangled titles to this fifty-acre island. About a year ago he accomplished it, and then people began to call it Ohage's folly. Undeterred, he started a public subscription to pay for the island and for making it an attractive bathing and breathing space for the people. He had the underbrush cleared off, dead trees cut down and new ones set out, paths laid out, grass planted, built a board bridge to it, a bathing-house and pavilions, and some two hundred rustic wooden benches. This spring he placed in the Mayor's hands a deed for the whole place, transferring its title to the city and people of St. Paul whenever the balance of the money that it actually cost is paid. It has cost $10,000, against the $250,000 for Rice Park and the $300,000 for Smith Park, neither of which is one-tenth as well A patronized as the new Island Park. quarter of this $10,000 has already been subscribed, so that $7,500 is all that has to be raised. The only conditions attached to the transfer are that the island shall be under the St. Paul Board of Health, so as to be under non-partisan control, and always open free to the public as a park. Dr. Ohage has been made a Health Commissioner, and his burly form can be seen there almost every day directing improvements and inspiring all with his presence. To illustrate the spirit, I copy the Rules for Visitors, which are very short and simple: No intoxicating drinks of any kind are allowed on the grounds, nor are people in a state of intoxication admitted. No one afflicted with a loathsome or contagious disease is permitted to bathe. All obscene or boisterous language and indecent conduct are strictly forbidden. That is all. Dr. Ohage, like so many of our citizens of German descent, is fond of his glass of beer after the work of the day, but he says he won't have liquor of any kind or cigarettes or chewing-gum sold on the grounds. And the following, copied from the Notice to the Public, shows the spirit still more clearly: These baths and grounds and everything pertaining thereto belong to the citizens of St. Paul-to you. You are part owner of them, and therefore interested in their success and reputation. Interest yourself sufficiently in them by your own good conduct and your treatment of others that they may be a source of healthy and joy ful recreation for our fellow-citizens, as intended. If you bring your own soap, towel, and bathsuit, no charge will be made, and you will have free access to the baths and dressing-rooms. If you choose not to trouble yourself with these, you can get a bath-suit, towel, and soap for two cents, or private cabinet with locker for one-half hour, bath-suit, two towels, and one piece of soap for five cents. On application you can get instruction in swimming free of charge.. Payments at the baths or restaurant are made in checks only, which you can get of the cashiers in two and five cent denominations. No attendant is allowed to receive money. ... The baths and restaurants are under the direct control of the Board of Health, which vouches for their cleanliness and sanitary condition. The baths are open during the season every day, Sundays included, from 6 A.M. to 11 P.M. This notice is a curious combination of a Ruskinesque statement of a great principle and an administrator's statement of practical rules. Dr. Ohage says he is a Socialist, and that he started this project as an experiment in municipal socialism. He says the workingmen have no place to meet in except the saloons, and there they must buy liquor and do get drunk or at least muddled. He drinks liquor himself, but one of his main objects in starting this park was to compete with the saloons by giving the workingman and his family a place for social life where that social life could be wholesome, sweet, and within the workingman's means and strength. Notice that if you bring your own bathing-suit, the use of the dressing-rooms costs nothing, while the suit, locker, soap, and towels cost only a nickel. I can vouch for the cleanliness and good quality of all of these and for the courtesy of the attendants. It was a pleasure to meet and talk with them. No tipping is allowed and no money can be used on the grounds. At the entrance you can change your money for the checks, and services or food can be paid for only in these checks. Dr. Ohage thinks tipping is a source of discontent and robbery. the laying down of cement paths. The A friend accompanying us suggested Doctor scouted the idea, saying that there were enough pavements in the big sweltering city, and that here he wanted a bit of nature which the people could get at. The restaurant is run by the Board of Health because, as Dr. Ohage says, a private company would naturally want to make as much money as it could, and that, even if the prices were fixed, the quality would be lowered. Here is a part of the bill of fare: Glass of milk or buttermilk. 2 cents 5 cents 5 cents I can testify to the quality of the coffee; it was served with genuine cream; and the rolls were big, sweet, and wholesome. Yet, in spite of the low prices and no prices, the whole experiment is paying ex penses. In June, though only just opened and in partial order, the management came out $15 ahead. When will our great communities learn the value and need of public baths, parks, and other public utilities of saving, preserving, and improving that most precious of all commodities, that highest form of wealth, human life? Aristotle once said: "The State came into being that man might exist, but its end is that man might live nobly." We have learned the first part of this, but we are only just beginning to appreciate the real meaning, scope, and grandeur of the last part, that the end of the State "is that man might live nobly." This public bathing-place and recreation-ground is one of the means, and no insignificant one, by which the life of the people may be brightened and ennobled. Ancient Egyptian Valuation of Life' A By Charles James Wood PART from that complete reversal of men's attitude toward the world which was introduced by Jesus the Christ, there have been moral developments and ethical variations in the succession of the ages. The cave-dwellers had their theologies and ethics, but continuity in the line of evolution has not yet been rediscovered. From cave-dwellers and lake-dwellers to ancient Egyptians is a long way, but the ethics and theology of the most ancient Egyptian books is perhaps the farthest back we can trace the line of the evolution of mankind's ideas of personal relations, human and divine. It is, at any rate, interesting to look over the road mankind has marched in its journey to the City of God. At the same time it should be confessed that the Egyptian gnomists had a conception of religion and morals, a valuation of life, not widely different from a school of theology not yet obsolete. Mr. Myer has brought together in one large volume The Book of Kaqemna (about 4000 B.C.), The Precepts of Ptah-hotep (about 3500 B.C.), The Maxims of Ani (possibly as old as 1500 B.C.), The Book of Sayings (about 1300), together with the one hundred and twentyfifth chapter of the Per-em-hru, commonly called the Book of the Dead, which chapter is of unknown antiquity. In this way Mr. In this way Mr. Myer has put before us material for an examination of the ancient Egyptian's attitude toward life. The author's arrangement of his material has this utility, that, while the ethical writings generally appear rather formal and separated from any religious sanction, yet the prior chapter The Oldest Books in the World: An Account of the Religion, Wisdom, Philosophy. Ethics, Psychology, Manners, Proverbs, Sayings, Refinement, etc., of the Ancient Egyptians. By Isaac Myer, LL.B. New York of the Book of the Dead exhibits the religious sanction lying behind all these precepts of the ancient Egyptian Chesterfields and Poloniuses. It is a trait of the wisdom literature of most peoples to appear self-sufficient. We find little of the religious sanction in the wisdom books of the ancient Hebrews— Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, and the Apocryphal wisdom books. Some of the supernatural element that is in them was added or interjected by later hands. Wisdom or gnomic books are not usually spiritual. Kaqemna counsels justice in arbitration, freedom from gluttony, from drunkenness, kindness to one's children, affability, and avoidance of vainglory. If we correctly understand the implication of the preface to this ancient writing, Kaqemna hoped by its composition to acquire merit to open for him upon death the gates of Paradise. For be it remembered that while the Egyptians stood among ancient nations pre-eminent in their belief in personal immortality, they did not trust in a universal immortality. They were believers in conditional immortality, and their books, like the Christian sacred writings, teach the second death, which is extermination. Ifa life, when weighed in the hall of the Judge of the dead, did not balance the feather of truth, that life, or soul, or character, or personality, was, after torments, cast out into the void. The Precepts of Ptah-hotep begin with a passage descriptive of old age which recalls the famous words to the same effect in the twelfth chapter of the Book of Ecclesiastes. As we now have it, Ptahhotep's treatise contains forty-four chapters. They resemble the Hebrew Proverbs, and are interfused with religious sanction. While Ptah-hotep deals with matters of conduct and good breeding, he sometimes enforces his counsels by reference to divine favor and retribution. For examples: "Do not create fear among men, or God will contend with thee in like manner. If any one pretends to live by such means, God will take the bread out of his mouth; if any one designs enriching himself [in that way], God says to him, I will take to myself again [these riches.]"" "If thou humblest thyself in obeying a superior, thy conduct is wholly good before God." "If thou art a wise man, train up a son who will be pleasing to God." "Love for the work they do, this brings men to God." "What God likes is, that one hears [hearkens to what is being said]; if one does not hear, that is abhorrent to God." This is about all the reference that Ptah-hotep makes to divine favor. In the main his advice is the counsel of Polonius, for the ancient Prefect advises subservience to those of superior rank, an equable temper, kind treatment of wife and children, good table manners, faithfulness in fulfilling orders, justice, avoidance of tale-bearing, and general politeness. All this seems an over-valuation of petty observances—a resemblance to the Chinese estimate of life as taught by Confucius. There is want of nobility, of feeling, of high ideals. Ptah-hotep's reading of life was to secure material comfort and freedom from annoyance. There is no room in this for that Christian chivalry which, with all its vagaries, bequeathed, as Browning and our better religious teachers estimate it, our lofty valuation of life. At his highest, old Ptah-hotep was a worldly, pious person. He had the temper, though not the grasp, of a Montaigne. There is ample reason to believe that Ptah-hotep's valuation of life prevailed among the Egyptians down to the end. Mr. Myer gives us maxims of the Ptolemaic period which only echo the precepts of this early ethical teacher and exponent of Tupperian poetry. Ptah-hotep, it is said, might have been a pharaoh had he chosen, but he renounced the "double house," perhaps because he did not, like a later imperial philosopher, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, believe that "even in a palace life could be led well." Of the theory of life of the scribe Ani it is not easy to give a confident opinion, for translators of his maxims widely disagree. Mr. Myer has wisely given the chief variants. In general, we should say that Ani's idea of religion was the performance of religious ceremonies. In this he comes nearer than his predecessors to the doctrine of Confucius. Nevertheless, if M. Ammelineau be correct, precept xi. is deeply spiritual. It runs thus: "What the sanctuary of God detests are noisy feasts; if thou implorest Him with a loving heart, whereof all the words are mysterious, He will do thy affairs; He accepts thy offerings." However, Mr. Budge will have it that this version is far away from the meaning, and in all probability Mr. Budge is right. There is nothing of the "sanctuary of God" in it. Ani advises, "Place before thyself as an aim the attainment of old age," and the preparation of a tomb. This all readers will recognize as characteristically Egyptian. In passing, it is worth while to observe that Ptah-hotep does not name any of the gods of Egypt except Horus and Osiris. Ani speaks of the sun as "the god of this earth," and that is the only god named. Otherwise Ani invariably says "God." The following maxim is the highest expression of Ani's spirituality, and it is not high: "Give thyself to God. Keep thyself each day for God, and let to-morrow be like to-day. Sacrifice: God sees him who sacrifices; He neglects him who neglects." Probably this is, at the best, functional religion, for all the other maxims of Ani deal with details of conduct. They are bent upon instilling prudence and caution. Having cited such words of Kaqemna, Ptah-hotep, and Ani as convey religious sanction, it may seem that it has been unfair to stigmatize the Fgyptian gnomists as formal and worldly. Yet, consider, these constitute all of their invocation of the religious sanction, and in the case of Ani it amounts to nothing at all. In the case of the others there is no evident nexus between faith and morals. This life they value according as it is long and free from pain. No higher purpose occurs to them. They have not learned from the Cross the divine excellence of pain. They live only for pleasure. The beatitudes will be incomprehensible. Progress through night to light is an idea undreamed of by them. Their ideal is comfort. The papyrus of Sayings, which is at Leyden, is the next gnomic book. Dr. Lauth puts it at the period of the Exodus. In form the Sayings resemble the Hebrew Proverbs: "The desert stretches out to overcome the cultivated land of the oasis, all the outside barbarians come into Egypt." "There is a career open for any workingman, be he an Egyptian or a stranger." "Revealed magic and outspoken wishes suffer no detriment when memorized by man." "The mummy of the divine sparrow-hawk lies on the board; the most elevated come to a lowly tomb." "In whose apron was nothing, she becomes mistress of a metal mirror." Is not this enough to show the sententiousness of these proverbs? In general, they deal with the mutability of fortune, and the cosmic whirligig. The author was one of "the flowing philosophers," and is pragmatic at times like Mr. George Meredith and the late Walt Whitman. After all, it is as easy to make a hundred proverbs as one. A man has only to get the knack, then he can turn the crank while half asleep; but to keep a quatrain from being Tupperian requires the genius of Ani or of Edward Fitzgerald. This is not the place to consider carefully the chapter of the last judgment in the Book of the Dead, for the reason that the topic is too great. Sufficient that the reader recognize the bond there made between life here, and there-beyond death. Curiously enough, did not life in any age show it to be the rule, worldliness and otherworldliness are found in this chapter to have kissed each other. The strange, occult, and apocalyptic vision of judgment in this chapter seizes upon the imagination. But what is to our point is that the moral code of early Egypt is here fully laid down. This is the Sinai of the ancient Egyptians. The ancient Hebrews had ten commandments; the men of Egypt, forty-two. This would seem to obviate casuistry. Were there an Escobar, a Suarez, and a Liguori in Egypt of the first sixteen dynasties? When the soul of the dead man enters into the hall of the judgment of the dead, where Osiris sits, gigantic, grim, inflexible, then the soul protests his innocence of any one of the forty-two deadly sins. There is not room to give here a list of them. Few of them touch upon essential immorality. They are details of conduct and propriety. In form they remind us of Job protesting his integrity. For instance, the soul declares," I am not one who curseth the king. I put no check on the water in its flow. I am not one with a loud voice. I am not swollen with pride. I do not steal the skins of the sacred animals. I have not done the act of devouring my heart. I have not committed arson." Yet these do not cover all the moral scope of the forty-two assessors of human life. Justice, chastity, honesty, and mercy, with due adoration of the gods, are included. Sacrilege may be said to be an evolution of taboo, as also incest; nevertheless, sacrilege is spiritual incest, anywhere, in time or space. This is true from Per-cmhru to the Hebrew prophets, to St. John the theologian and mystic of Patmos. Naming the Apostle of Patmos recalls again the Psychostasia, the judgment of the Egyptian soul in the hall of Osiris, the god of the dead. For here again, in remote antiquity, is the vision of a lake of fire, of four mysterious living creatures, of a fountain, a cross, of a mountain of light, of the spiritual scribe with his inkhorn and pen, of the great dragon or serpent of darkness, and other features of the Apocalyptic landscape. No invention of modern fiction is stranger, weirder, profounder, than this hoary fragment of years immemorial. In conclusion, it is enough to say that Mr. Myer has set forth much material for reflection. flection. From his collections of ancient wisdom it is apparent that we of to-day have somehow got other values in life, new appreciations. Did the Hebrews get their genius for righteousness from the Egyptians? If so, they vastly improved upon the originals in their later writings, excepting Ecclesiastes. Gnomic literature is usually dry. La Rochefoucauld requires a mood in which to read him; so does Ani, the Egyptian scribe, dead now these three thousand years and more. Human nature has changed. Our ideals have changed, and with the ages the Godconsciousness becomes ever more clear, religion and morals grow closer to identity. |