it is manifest that any architect proposing to erect an edifice for observing the heavenly bodies, would direct his attention specially to the meridian. He would require to observe bodies crossing different parts of the meridian. But he would recognise the fact that the southern half of the meridian was altogether more important than the northern; for the sun and moon and all the planets cross the meridian towards the south. Again, those regions towards the south which are crossed by these bodies would be the most important of all.

What the architect would do then would be this. He would so raise the building, layer by layer, as to leave a suitable narrow opening, directed north and south, and bearing on the part of the southern sky which the sun, moon, and planets traverse.

Now, the grand gallery in the pyramid of Cheops fulfils precisely such a purpose as this. Before the upper part of the pyramid was added, the passage of the sun and moon and every one of the planets across the meridian, except perhaps Mercury (but I am not at all sure that Mercury need be excepted), could be observed through this remarkable slant gallery. Venus, of course, could only be seen. in the daytime when due south; but we know that at her brightest she can be readily seen in the daytime when her place in the sky is known. And through a long narrow passage like the grand gallery of the pyramid of Cheops she could be seen when much nearer the sun's place in the sky. Of course, to observe the sun, moon, or a planet, the astronomer would only be so far down the tunnel as to see the planet crossing the top of the opening. If he went farther. down he would lose the observation; but the farther down he went without losing sight of the body, the more favourable would be the conditions under which the observations would be made. Sometimes he could go to the very lowest part of the gallery. At midwinter, for instance, the sun could be observed from there, just crossing the top of the exceedingly small narrow slice of sky seen from that place.

I am not, however, specially concerned here with the question of the manner in which astronomical observations would be made through the great ascending gallery of the great pyramid. That is a subject full of interest, but I leave it for fuller treatment elsewhere. What I desire here specially to note is, that the gallery could only be used when the pyramid was incomplete. While as yet all the portion of the pyramid above the gallery was not erected, the heavenly bodies could be observed not only along the great gallery, but also from the level platform forming the upper surface of the pyramid in that stage of its construction. But when the building

began to be carried beyond that stage-unless for a while a long strip in front of the gallery was left incomplete-the chief use of the building for purposes of stellar observation must have come to an end. Not only have we no record that an open space was left in this way, and no trace in the building itself of any such peculiarity of construction, but it is tolerably manifest that no such space could have been safely left after the surrounding portions had been carried beyond a certain height.

It is here that I find the strongest argument for the theory I have advanced, respecting the purpose for which the pyramids were built. It is certain that, while these buildings were specially constructed for astronomical observations of some sort, while the entire interior construction of the great pyramid adapted it specially for such a purpose, yet, only a short time after the great gallery and the other passages of this mighty structure had been completed, it was treated as no longer of any use or value for astronomical work. It was carried up beyond the platform where the priestly astronomers had made their observations, until the highest and smallest platform was added ; and then the casing stones were fitted on, which left the entire surface of the pyramid perfectly smooth and polished, not the minutest crack or crevice marring either the sloping sides, or the pavement which surrounded the pyramid's base.

Now, I do not say that there is nothing surprising in what is known, and especially in the last-mentioned circumstance, when the theory is admitted that the great pyramid was built by Suphis or Cheops in order that astronomical observations might be continued throughout his life, to determine his future, to ascertain what epochs were dangerous or propitious for him, and to note such unusual phenomena among the celestial bodies as seemed to bode him good or evil fortune. It does seem amazing, despite all we know of the fulness of faith reposed by men of old times in the fanciful doctrines of astrology, that any man, no matter how rich or powerful, should devote many years of his life, a large proportion of his wealth, and the labours of many myriads of his subjects, to so chimerical a purpose. It is strange that a building erected for that purpose should not be capable of subserving a similar purpose for his successors on the throne of Egypt. Strange also that he should have been able to provide in some way for the completion of the building after his death, though that must have been a work of enormous labour, and very expensive, even though all the materials had been prepared during his own lifetime,

But I do assert with considerable confidence that no other theory has been yet suggested (and almost every imaginable theory has been advocated) which gives the slightest answer to these chief difficulties in the pyramid problem. The astrological theory, if accepted, gives indeed an answer which requires us to believe the kingly builder of the great pyramid, and, in less degree, those who with him or after him built the others, to have been utterly selfish, tyrannical, and superstitious—or, in brief, utterly unwise. But unfortunately the study of human nature brings before us so many illustrations of the existence of such folly and superstition in as great or even greater degree, that we need not for such reasons reject the astrological theory. Of other theories it may be said that, while not one of them, except the wild theory which attributes the great pyramid to divinely instructed architects, presents the builders more favourably, every one of these theories leaves the most striking features of the great pyramid entirely unexplained.

Lastly, I would note that the pyramids when rightly viewed must be regarded, not as monuments which should excite our admiration, but as stupendous records of the length to which tyranny and selfishness, folly and superstition, lust of power and greed of wealth, will carry man. Regarded as works of skill, and as examples of what men may effect by combined and longcontinued labour, they are indeed marvellous, and in a sense. admirable. They will remain, in all probability, and will be scarcely changed, when every other edifice at this day existing on the surface of the earth has either crumbled into dust or changed out of all knowledge. The museums and libraries, the churches and cathedrals, the observatories, the college buildings, and other scholastic edifices of our time, are not for a moment to be compared with the great pyramid of Egypt in all that constitutes material importance, strength, or stability. But while the imperishable monuments of old Egypt are records of tyranny and selfishness, the less durable structures of our own age are in the main records of at least the desire to increase the knowledge, to advance the interests, and to ameliorate the condition of the human race. No good whatever has resulted to man from all the labour, misery, and expense involved in raising those mighty structures which seem fitted to endure while the world itself shall last. They are and ever have been splendidly worthless. On the other hand, the less costly works of our own time, while their very construction has involved good instead of misery to the lowlier classes, have increased the knowledge and the well-being of mankind. The goodly seed of the earth, though

perishable itself, germinates, fructifies, and bears other seed, which will in turn bring forth yet other and perchance even better fruits: so the efforts of man to work good to his fellow-man instead of evil, although they may lead to perishable material results, will yet germinate, and fructify, and bear seed, over an ever-widening field of time, even to untold generations.

RICHARD A. PROCTOR,

185

THE ORIGINAL OF SHYLOCK.

THE

HE character of Shylock, to which Mr. Irving's admirable impersonation at the Lyceum has given a newly revived interest, has long been a bone of contention among critics. Some have insisted that Shylock is an incarnation of the spirit of revenge, and that his connection with a special nationality is an accidental and not an essential circumstance. Others have perceived in him little beyond a monster of iniquity such as Shakespeare and his contemporaries actually imagined the Jew to be, of whom they are supposed to have known nothing more than what was to be learnt from stories descended from the Middle Ages. A third order of critics has represented Shylock as a human creature more sinned against than sinning, belonging to a race whose character has been moulded by centuries of persecution; and they have seen in the play at once a vigorous protest against religious prejudices and a logical plea for religious toleration.

Each of these verdicts contains a modicum of truth, but, in effect, so small an amount, that were they all three compounded they would give a far from satisfactory estimate of the Jew's character. Shylock is far more than an unusually passionate man, with all his milk of human kindness curdled by persecution to the sourness of hate, seeking to "feed revenge" for lifelong injury, and careless in what crimes his purpose may involve him. If we detach him for one moment from the main incidents of the play, and picture him to ourselves when his passions are cooled and his attention is turned to the customary pursuits of his life, we find no ordinary Italian or English merchant, but the living semblance of a Jewish tradershrewd and covetous, it is true, but possessed of other characteristics still more distinctive of his race. Strong domestic affections, which even the cares of his counting-house cannot obscure, deep-set sympathies with the fortunes of his "tribe," and firm faith in the sacredness of its separation from the Gentiles, are traits that, combined with a pious horror of eating or drinking with Christians and a fondness for Scriptural illustration, leave little doubt in the minds of those acquainted with the peculiarities of Jewish