If the mind of man had been incapable of advancing to other ideas, and the heart of man incapable of higher moral sentiments, than the ideas and sentiments that had been in the minds and hearts of Sethos and Rameses, and the Egyptians of their day, then all things would have continued as they had been. But such has not been, is not, and, we may suppose, will never be, the condition of man on this earth. Ideas and sentiments are powers—the greatest powers among men. And there were ideas and sentiments yet to come which were higher generalizations than those of old Egypt, and which, therefore, were instinct with greater power. Knowledge, and corresponding moral sentiments, had been the power of old Egypt, but now they were to be confronted by profounder knowledge, and more potent moral sentiments. The Egyptians, however, had put themselves into such a position that they could not add the new light to the old, or graft the scion of the improved vine upon the old stock. The only result, then, that was possible was that that which was stronger and better must sweep away that which was not so strong or so good, and take its place. It must be a case, not of amalgamation, but of substitution. The old Egyptians, in order to perpetuate, and render available their knowledge, and to bring out immediately, and fully, its working power, had swathed both it, and society, in bands of iron. In doing this they had seen clearly what they wanted, and how to produce it. They knew that morality only could make and maintain a nation; and that within certain limits morality could be created, and shaped, and made instinctive. They knew precisely what morality they wanted for their particular purpose, and how they were to create this, and shape it, and how they were to make it instinctive. In this supreme matter they did everything they wanted to do. This, this precisely, and nothing else, was the wisdom of Egypt.[8] It was the greatest wisdom any nation has ever yet shown. It took in hand every individual in the whole community, and made him what it was wished and needed that he should be. If we do not understand these statements the wisdom of Egypt is to us a mere empty phrase. If we do understand them, the phrase conveys to us the profoundest lesson history can teach; and at the present juncture, when the foundations of social order are being shifted, a transference of political power taking place, new principles being introduced, and old ones being applied in a new fashion, and in larger measures, it is, of all the lessons that can be found in the pages of history, the one that would be of most service to ourselves.