Tet-F-Ra. The tablet gives even one still earlier, Nefer KaRa,* near the end of the IIId dynasty. Sun-worship was therefore established in Egypt, at least at Memphis, as early as the beginning of the IVth dynasty.

But we can go back still a little further, and this time by the help of our fairy tale. It is evident from the whole tenor of the story, that the Sun-god's daughter and the sacred bull of Egypt are placed in strong opposition, and yet curiously allied. They are introduced into Egypt in very different ways. The Pharaoh receives the sun-goddess with the highest personal honor. The common people receive the bull with a national enthusiasm. The one is a palace exotic, the other an indigenous grain. The Egyptians hold a festival because their own old Apis has reappeared. Pharaoh alone loves the Syrian Thammuz.

On the other hand there was a foreign connection between these two opposed deities. The Sun-goddess was made for the Apis, and he loved her. She betrayed and slew him. Still he loved her. She again slew him. He made himself her child. Sunworship in the palace suppressed the national worship for a time

—then fostered itfinally married it. The story seems to be a mystical account of the revival of Egyptianism from some Syrian solar persecution, like that carried on by the fanatic chu-en-Aten of the XVIIIth dynasty, but at a much earlier date. Although we may also form the theory that the scribe Annana was one of those sagacious men, who in all ages know how to mould the minds destined to rule an empire, by instilling a state policy which shall compromise between opposing factions or a lofty eclecticism which can mix and neutralize the acids and bases of society. He may have married the sacred bull to the daughter of the sun to teach the young Menephta to respect all creeds alike. The Asiatic conquests of his father, the greatest of all the Ramseses, had weakened, instead of strengthening his empire. The return wave ruined Egypt. She never was herself again. Memphis became oriental, as Cairo is now. Foreigners crowded the city and the plain. The indigenous and exotic religions strove with and debased each other, and the glories of the Classic Empire were but a thin laid varnish on worm-eaten wood. The Sun-god's daughter had at last killed the Sacred Bull.

* The tablet of Saggara puts this name as the 5th in the Ild dynasty; but where there is evidently a mistake, the Seti tablet must be followed. The naming of On, the City of the Sun at the head of the Delta,--in the body of the text, shows where the sun-worshiping parts of the Ritual came from.

But we see traces of authentic history in the story still older even than the apparent original appearance of sun-worship into Egypt in the III and IVth dynasties. And what has been said is only introductory to the statement of this curious fact.

Only four proper names appear in the story: Anepu and Batau, its two heroes; Hor-m-achu (Harmachis) the Sun-god; and Chnum,* his agent in creating the beauty. This last, Chnum, was a form of Amun Ra, i. e. the Sun introduced into the worship of the Thebaid. Chnum, in the story, is the representative agent of the Sun-god of Mt. Lebanon. Hor-m-achu is the monumental name of the Great Sphinx of Gizeh. Although it is called the Sun-god by the author of the story, under the influence of the predominating Mithrism of his own age, no connection between the Sun and the Sphinx when it was first cut, has been demonstrated. The name Hor-m-achu (spelled with a hawk, M, and the black disk between two hills) occurs in the stele found in the tomb of Chufu's (Cheops', daughter, in connection with descriptions of the building' of temples near it to Isis and Osiris, † but narrates its own restortaion. It must therefore have been an old deity when Sunworship entered Egypt.

Anepu, the elder brother, is the aboriginal African god, called by the Greeks Anubis, and universally represented, even in the most ancient sepulchral legends, as guardian of the dead, or tutelary god of the tombs, the mummy deity, the jackal being his emblem. On the later monuments, he has a jackal head and two high plumes, like Osiris. After Osiris became supreme god of Egypt, Anubis was made his son. But this was one of those innumerable modifications and combinations of the Pantheon which have reduced it to a mass of almost inextricable confusion. How could the jackal Anubis originally be the son of Osiris, when the great enemy of Osiris (both in his own and in his other form of Horus) was Set, the Jackal Sphinx? We must look upon Anubis in Upper and Seth in Lower Egypt as the common representatives, during the early part of the First Empire, previous to the formation of the Osiris Pantheon, of the aboriginal Death Jackal god of North East Africa.

* Chap. 36 of the ritual, entitled: On stopping the tortoise, with a vignette of the Deceased turning back a tortoise, read;: “Coming ag rinst me, with closed lips! I am Chnum, Lord of Shennu, messenger of the Words of the Gods to Ra, my tongue is the messenger of its Lords” (Birch). The sacred Scriptures of the far east were written on tortoise shells.

† Recherches, p. 49.

The presence of Anepu in our story as one of the chief actors, as taking away the life of his brother, then giving it back, then introducing him as the sacred bull to the worship of the nation, finally as governing the nation and becoming Pharaoh-stamps the myth with an aspect of the highest antiquity.

The great name in the story, however, is Batau, the younger brother. If we can place Batau in the First Empire, before the appearance of Solar and Osirian Worship, in the IIId or IVth dynasties, then Anubis worship, as Anepu, the elder brother, "enough older to be his father," is carried back to an aboriginal, probably ante-Menian position.

I find then this name in the Ninth Cartouche of the Tablet of Kings uncovered in the Corridor of the palace of Seti I. (XIX Dy.) at Abydos (100 miles be-a low Thebes), corresponding to the Boethós, first king of the second dynasty, of Manetho's lists. The cartouche seen in fig. 6., is explained by the word BaTAU, (fig. a. with the de-, terminative a branch meaning something wooden,) found in chapter 36 of the Ritual beginning:

“Oh, bringer of the boat to this dreadful shore ! . . . . Anchor. Tell me my name.

Answer. Lord of the earth in a box is thy name. Rudder. Tell me

Answer. Trampler on Hapi is thy name.
Rope. Tell me my name.

Answer. The hair which Anepu brings for his work of embalm ing the dead, is thy name," etc.

Birch translates the word Batau in this place, holes for ropes. De Rougé thinks it is the name of a piece of the sacred boat (all the details of which are successively named in this curious chapter


of the Ritual) of the shape of the last letter in the cartouche, fig. b.

But how strange to encounter, in this chapter of the Ritual containing the names of our two brothers, the hair which played so fatal a part in the tragedy of our story. It is here part of the apparatus of Anepu, as the original Death-god of Egypt.

On the Tablet of Kings, discovered a few years ago in one of the Saqqara tombs (20 miles south of Cairo), the third cartouche (fig. c.) reads Neter Bau, “God of Souls,” a very remarkable title for so early a king of Egypt. By the help of a fragment of the Royal Papyrus of Turin, it appears not only probable but almost certain, that Neter-bau was a surname of the Pharaoh Batau. The coincidence of all this with the prominence given to the younger brother's soul in our tale, cannot be accidental.

It is equally remarkable that the next cartouche No. 10, of the Tablet of Seti I, reads Ka Kau, Manetho's Kaiechos, who, he says, introduced bull worship into Egypt. KaKau means phonetically “bull of bulls;' but pictorially, “worshiper of bulls.” The Turin Papyrus gives the ideograph for a bull; but our cartouche and the corresponding cartouche of the Saqqara tablet give three phalluses (Kau) after the letter Ka. It is therefore entirely proper to read, “the all-begetting bull."'*

KaKai is in his turn followed on the tablet by Manetho's Binothris, BeN-Neter-N, in whose name the ram occurs as second letter instead of the more usual form of N. It was the ramheaded god Chnum, whom the Sun-god in our story employed to manufacture Batau's wife. If KaKau was the Pharaoh who introduced the worship of Apis, or Mnevis, or both, BeN-Neter-N may' have introduced the worship of the buck Mendes.

* De Rougé prefers : "the male of males,” referring to the vignette of Chap. ter 148 of the Ritual in Lepsius, T. B. where the sacred Bull is called "the male of seven n.ystic cows," and "generator of males and females." Ka is too frequen:ly used for cows, she goats, etc , to allow us to believe that it origin. ally meant male procreation alone. Kaui, earth, is also feminine, like the Greek Gea, Ge. I see no good objection against the use of this Egyptian KaKa in etymology for discovering the origin of many European words ; for example, the robber Cacus in the story of Hercules; the Greek adjective kakos bad; the Cock sacred to Esculap, and the type of perpetual procreating power, the English word cock vulgarly used still for the phallus ; etc., etc.

Thus gradually was the animal worship of the First Empire reduced to form. Senta was perhaps the first to offer the trussed goose, Skar-nefer-ka, to formulate the worship of what afterwards became the Sokari-Osiris ; and so on, until Neferkara gave himself up to Sun-worship under the form of Ra, which became the favorite state religion of the Pyramid builders.]



THE legislation and general policy of the country would be

T much simplified and relieved if in all cases we could deal with real interests and actual necessities. While the representatives of these interests are often mistaken as to the true policy to secure their own best advancement, they are at least always genuine in their expressions, and we can have the satisfaction of relieving them, or of giving a reason why they cannot be relieved. But we have, in fact, a large class of declaimers to deal with—persons representing no real interests, but all the more vehement as writers and speakers. They fill our journals with cheap and abundant writing—so cheap and so abundant that the plethora is a great and also an indefinable source of mischief, since we do not know when and where the real complaint comes in and the sham begins. Anxious to neglect no real duty, and faithfully to attend to all practical measures of relief to any suffering interest, we are torn with conflicting emotions over the woes these profuse writers depict, not knowing at any moment whether we are crying over a real calamity or a well simulated pretense of one.

Most of all, perhaps, have these lamenting writers exhausted themselves on ship-building. The war necessarily brought great losses and great disturbance to that interest, and it was a national duty to help it whenever help could be wisely given. For a time there was a great surplus of vessels of all classes afloat, due to the excess of weak structures called for during the war, and these dangerous hulks offered to carry at rates so low that there was no inducement to build new ships or better ones. Some hundreds of wellworn ships, brigs and barks lay about the chief British ports,

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