[Balls that have been found in the tombs are still to be seen; some,

       for instance, in the Museum at Leyden.]

      “Really,” said Bartja, as he watched Nitetis catching the slight hoop, ornamented with gay ribbons, for the hundredth time on her slender ivory rod, “really we must introduce this game at home. We Persians are so different from you Egyptians. Everything new has a special charm for us, while to you it is just as hateful. I shall describe the game to Our mother Kassandane, and she will be delighted to allow my brother’s wives this new amusement.”

      “Yes, do, do!” exclaimed the fair Tachot blushing deeply. “Then Nitetis can play too, and fancy herself back again at home and among those she loves; and Bartja,” she added in a low voice, “whenever you watch the hoops flying, you too must remember this hour.”

      “I shall never forget it,” answered he with a smile, and then, turning to his future sister-in-law, he called out cheerfully, “Be of good courage, Nitetis, you will be happier than you fancy with us. We Asiatics know how to honor beauty; and prove it by taking many wives.”

      Nitetis sighed, and the queen Ladice exclaimed, “On the contrary, that very fact proves that you understand but poorly how to appreciate woman’s nature! You can have no idea, Bartja, what a woman feels on finding that her husband—the man who to her is more than life itself, and to whom she would gladly and without reserve give up all that she treasures as most sacred—looks down on her with the same kind of admiration that he bestows on a pretty toy, a noble steed, or a well-wrought wine-bowl. But it is yet a thousand-fold more painful to feel that the love which every woman has a right to possess for herself alone, must be shared with a hundred others!”

      “There speaks the jealous wife!” exclaimed Amasis. “Would you not fancy that I had often given her occasion to doubt my faithfulness?”

      “No, no, my husband,” answered Ladice, “in this point the Egyptian men surpass other nations, that they remain content with that which they have once loved; indeed I venture to assert that an Egyptian wife is the happiest of women.

      [According to Diodorus (I. 27) the queen of Egypt held a higher

       position than the king himself. The monuments and lists of names

       certainly prove that women could rule with sovereign power. The

       husband of the heiress to the throne became king. They had their

       own revenues (Diodorus I. 52) and when a princess, after death, was

       admitted among the goddesses, she received her own priestesses.

       (Edict of Canopus.) During the reigns of the Ptolemies many coins

       were stamped with the queen’s image and cities were named for them.

       We notice also that sons, in speaking of their descent, more

       frequently reckon it from the mother’s than the father’s side, that

       a married woman is constantly alluded to as the “mistress” or “lady”

       of the house, that according to many a Greek Papyrus they had entire

       disposal of all their property, no matter in what it consisted, in

       short that the weaker sex seems to have enjoyed equal influence with

       the stronger.]

      Even the Greeks, who in so many things may serve as patterns to us, do not know how to appreciate woman rightly. Most of the young Greek girls pass their sad childhood in close rooms, kept to the wheel and the loom by their mothers and those who have charge of them, and when marriageable, are transferred to the quiet house of a husband they do not know, and whose work in life and in the state allows him but seldom to visit his wife’s apartments. Only when the most intimate friends and nearest relations are with her husband, does she venture to appear in their midst, and then shyly and timidly, hoping to hear a little of what is going on in the great world outside. Ah, indeed! we women thirst for knowledge too, and there are certain branches of learning at least, which it cannot be right to withhold from those who are to be the mothers and educators of the next generation. What can an Attic mother, without knowledge, without experience, give to her daughters? Naught but her own ignorance. And so it is, that a Hellene, seldom satisfied with the society of his lawful, but, mentally, inferior wife, turns for satisfaction to those courtesans, who, from their constant intercourse with men, have acquired knowledge, and well understand how to adorn it with the flowers of feminine grace, and to season it with the salt of a woman’s more refined and delicate wit. In Egypt it is different. A young girl is allowed to associate freely with the most enlightened men. Youths and maidens meet constantly on festive occasions, learn to know and love one another. The wife is not the slave, but the friend of her husband; the one supplies the deficiencies of the other. In weighty questions the stronger decides, but the lesser cares of life are left to her who is the greater in small things. The daughters grow up under careful guidance, for the mother is neither ignorant nor inexperienced. To be virtuous and diligent in her affairs becomes easy to a woman, for she sees that it increases his happiness whose dearest possession she boasts of being, and who belongs to her alone. The women only do that which pleases us! but the Egyptian men understand the art of making us pleased with that which is really good, and with that alone. On the shores of the Nile, Phocylides of Miletus and Hipponax of Ephesus would never have dared to sing their libels on women, nor could the fable of Pandora have been possibly invented here!”

      [Simonides of Amorgos, an Iambic poet, who delighted in writing

       satirical verses on women. He divides them into different classes,

       which he compares to unclean animals, and considers that the only

       woman worthy of a husband and able to make him happy must be like

       the bee. The well-known fable of Pandora owes its origin to

       Simonides. He lived about 650 B. C. The Egyptians too, speak very

       severely of bad women, comparing them quite in the Simonides style

       to beasts of prey (hyenas, lions and panthers). We find this

       sentence on a vicious woman: She is a collection of every kind of

       meanness, and a bag full of wiles. Chabas, Papyr. magrque Harris.

       p. 135. Phocylides of Miletus, a rough and sarcastic, but

       observant man, imitated Simonides in his style of writing. But the

       deformed Hipponax of Ephesus, a poet crushed down by poverty, wrote

       far bitterer verses than Phocylides. He lived about 550 B. C. “His

       own ugliness (according to Bernhardy) is reflected in every one of

       his Choliambics.” ]

      “How beautifully you speak!” exclaimed Bartja. “Greek was not easy to learn, but I am very glad now that I did not give it up in despair, and really paid attention to Croesus’ lessons.”

      “Who could those men have been,”