For instance, there is a granite fist of prodigious size, at least a yard
across, and looking as if it were doubled in the face of Time, defying
him to destroy it. All the rest of the statue to which it belonged seems
to have vanished; but this fist will certainly outlast the Museum, and
whatever else it contains, unless it be some similar Egyptian
ponderosity. There is a beetle, wrought out of immensely hard black
stone, as big as a hogshead. It is satisfactory to see a thing so big
and heavy. Then there are huge stone sarcophagi, engraved with
hieroglyphics within and without, all as good as new, though their age is
reckoned by thousands of years. These great coffins are of vast weight
and mass, insomuch that when once the accurately fitting lids were shut
down, there might have seemed little chance of their being lifted again
till the Resurrection. I positively like these coffins, they are so
faithfully made, and so black and stern,--and polished to such a nicety,
only to be buried forever; for the workmen, and the kings who were laid
to sleep within, could never have dreamed of the British Museum.
There is a deity named Pasht, who sits in the hall, very big, very grave,
carved of black stone, and very ludicrous, wearing a dog's head. I will
just mention the Rosetta Stone, with a Greek inscription, and another in
Egyptian characters which gave the clew to a whole field of history; and
shall pretermit all further handling of this unwieldy subject.
Pages:
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854