, and thence to
cross with the festal barks to the Necropolis.

To-day was the Feast of the Valley, and Anion, the great God of Thebes,
was carried over in solemn pomp to the City of the Dead, in order that
he--as the priests said--might sacrifice to his fathers in the other
world. The train marched westward; for there, where the earthly remains
of man also found rest, the millions of suns had disappeared, each of
which was succeeded daily by a new one, born of the night. The young
luminary, the priests said, did not forget those that had been
extinguished, and from whom he was descended; and Anion paid them this
mark of respect to warn the devout not to forget those who were passed
away, and to whom they owed their existence.

"Bring offerings," says a pious text, "to thy father and thy mother who
rest in the valley of the tombs; for such gifts are pleasing to the Gods,
who will receive them as if brought to themselves. Often visit thy dead,
so that what thou dost for them, thy son may do for thee."

The Feast of the Valley was a feast of the dead; but it was not a
melancholy solemnity, observed with lamentation and wailing; on the
contrary, it was a cheerful festival, devoted to pious and sentimental
memories of those whom we cease not to love after death, whom we esteem
happy and blest, and of whom we think with affection; to whom too the
throng from Thebes brought offerings, forming groups in the chapel-like
tombs, or in front of the graves, to eat and drink.

Father, mother and children clung together; the house-slaves followed
with provisions, and with torches, which would light up the darkness of
the tomb and show the way home at night.

Even the poorest had taken care to secure beforehand a place in one of
the large boats which conveyed the people across the stream; the barges
of the rich, dressed in the gayest colors, awaited their owners with
their households, and the children had dreamed all night of the sacred
bark of Anion, whose splendor, as their mothers told them, was hardly
less than that of the golden boat in which the Sun-God and his companions
make their daily voyage across the ocean of heaven. The broad landing
place of the temple of Anion was already crowded with priests, the shore
with citizens, and the river with boats; already loud music drowned the
din of the crowds, who thronged and pushed, enveloped in clouds of dust,
to reach the boats; the houses and hovels of Thebes were all empty, and