wealth of trees and flowers, he plays draughts with his friends,
romps with his children, or fishes in his artificial ponds. There is
much evidence of this nature to show that the Egyptian was as much given
to these healthy amusements as he was to the mirth of the feast.
Josephus states that the Egyptians were a people addicted to pleasure,
and the evidence brought together in the foregoing pages shows that his
statement is to be confirmed. In sincere joy of living they surpassed
any other nation of the ancient world. Life was a thing of such delight
to the Egyptian, that he shrank equally from losing it himself and from
taking it from another. His prayer was that he might live to be a
centenarian. In spite of the many wars of the Egyptians, there was less
unnecessary bloodshed in the Nile valley than in any other country which
called itself civilised. Death was as terrible to them as it was
inevitable, and the constant advice of the thinker was that the living
should make the most of their life. When a king died, it was said that
"he went forth to heaven having spent life in happiness," or that "he
rested after life, having completed his years in happiness." It is true
that the Egyptians wished to picture the after-life as one of continuous
joy. One sees representations of a man's soul seated in the shade of the
fruit-trees of the Underworld, while birds sing in the branches above
him, and a lake of cool water lies before him; but they seemed to know
that this was too pleasant a picture to be the real one. A woman, the
wife of a high priest, left upon her tombstone the following
inscription, addressed to her husband:--

"O, brother, husband, friend," she says, "thy desire to
drink and to eat hath not ceased. Therefore be drunken,
enjoy the love of women--make holiday. Follow thy desire
by night and by day. Put not care within thy heart. Lo!
are not these the years of thy life upon earth? For as
for the Underworld, it is a land of slumber and heavy
darkness, a resting-place for those who have passed
within it. Each sleepeth there in his own form, they
never awake to see their fellows, they behold not their
fathers nor their mothers, their heart is careless of
their wives and children."

She knows that she will be too deeply steeped in the stupor of the
Underworld to remember her husband, and unselfishly she urges him to
continue to be happy after the manner of hi