Drawn by Boudier,
from a photograph
by Insinger.
There was some hesitation at first as to the position the surname ought to occupy, and it was sometimes placed after the birth-name, as in “Papi Nofirkerî,” sometimes before it, as in [—] “Nofirkerî Papî.” It was finally decided to place it at the beginning, preceded by the group [—] “King of Upper and Lower Egypt,” which expresses in its fullest extent the power granted by the gods to the Pharaoh alone; the other, or birth-name, came after it, accompanied by the words [—]. “Son of the Sun.” There were inscribed, either before or above these two solar names —which are exclusively applied to the visible and living body of the master—the two names of the sparrow-hawk, which belonged especially to the soul; first, that of the double in the tomb, and then that of the double while still incarnate. Four terms seemed thus necessary to the Egyptians in order to define accurately the Pharaoh, both in time and in eternity.
Long centuries were needed before this subtle analysis of the royal person, and the learned graduation of the formulas which corresponded to it, could transform the Nome chief, become by conquest suzerain over all other chiefs and king of all Egypt, into a living god here below, the all-powerful son and successor of the gods; but the divine concept of royalty, once implanted in the mind, quickly produced its inevitable consequences. From the moment that the Pharaoh became god upon earth, the gods of heaven, his fathers or his brothers, and the goddesses recognized him as their son, and, according to the ceremonial imposed by custom in such cases, consecrated his adoption by offering him the breast to suck, as they would have done to their own child.
Ordinary mortals spoke of him only in symbolic words, designating him by some periphrasis: Pharaoh, “Pirûi-Aûi,” the Double Palace, “Prûîti,” the Sublime Porte, His Majesty,* the Sun of the two lands, Horus master of the palace, or, less ceremoniously, by the indeterminate pronoun “One.”
* The title “Honûf” is translated by the same authors,
sometimes as “His Majesty,” sometimes as “His Holiness.” The
reasons for translating it “His Majesty,” as was originally
proposed by Champollion, and afterwards generally adopted,
have been given last of all by E. de Rougé.
The greater number of these terms is always accompanied by a wish addressed to the sovereign for his “life,” “health,” and “strength,” the initial signs of which are written after all his titles. He accepts all this graciously, and even on his own initiative, swears by his own life, or by the favour of Râ, but he forbids his subjects to imitate him: for them it is a sin, punishable in this world and in the next, to adjure the person of the sovereign, except in the case in which a magistrate requires from them a judicial oath.
He is approached, moreover, as a god is approached, with downcast eyes, and head or back bent; they “sniff the earth” before him, they veil their faces with both hands to shut out the splendour of his appearance; they chant a devout form of adoration before submitting to him a petition. No one is free from this obligation: his ministers themselves, and the great ones of his kingdom, cannot deliberate with him on matters of state, without inaugurating the proceeding by a sort of solemn service in his honour, and reciting to him at length a eulogy of his divinity. They did not, indeed, openly exalt him above the other gods, but these were rather too numerous to share heaven among them, whilst he alone rules over the “Entire Circuit of the Sun,” and the whole earth, its mountains and plains, are in subjection under his sandalled feet. People, no doubt, might be met with who did not obey him, but these were rebels, adherents of Sît, “Children of Euin,” who, sooner or later, would be overtaken by punishment.