Psamatik had gained the object of his ambition—­sovereignty over all Egypt; he had now to consider how it might best be kept.  And first, as that which is won by the sword must be kept by the sword, he made arrangements with the troops sent to his aid by Gyges, that they should take permanent service under his banner, and form the most important element in his standing army.  His native troops were quartered at Elephantine, in the extreme south, and in Marea and Daphnae, at the two extremities of the Delta towards the west and east.  The new accession to his military strength he stationed at no great distance from the capital, settling them in permanent camps on either side of the Pelusiac branch of the Nile, near the city of Bubastis.  We are told that this exaltation of the new corps to the honourable position of keeping watch upon the capital, greatly offended the native troops, and induced 200,000 of them to quit Egypt and seek service with the Ethiopians.  The facts have probably been exaggerated, for Ethiopia certainly does not gain, or Egypt lose, in strength, either at or after this period.

Psamatik, further, for the better securing of his throne against pretenders, thought it prudent to contract a marriage with the descendant of a royal stock held in honour by many of his subjects.  The princess, Shepenput, was the daughter of a Piankhi, who claimed descent from the unfortunate Bek-en-ranf, the king burnt alive by Shabak, and who had also probably some royal Ethiopian blood in his veins.  By his nuptials with this princess, Psamatik assured to his crown the legitimacy which it had hitherto lacked.  Uniting henceforth in his own person the rights of the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth dynasties, those of the Saites and those of the Ethiopians, he became the one and only legal king, and no competitor could possibly arise with a title to sovereignty higher or better than his own.

Being now personally secure, he could turn his attention to the restoration and elevation of the nationality of which he had taken it upon him to assume the direction.  He could cast his eyes over the unhappy Egypt—­depressed, down-trodden, well-nigh trampled to death—­and give his best consideration to the question what was to be done to restore her to her ancient greatness.  There she lay before his eyes in a deplorable state of misery and degradation.  All the great cities, her glory and her boast in former days, had suffered more or less in the incessant wars; Memphis had been besieged and pillaged half a dozen times; Thebes had been sacked and burnt twice; from Syene to Pelusium there was not a town which had not been injured in one or other of the many invasions.  The canals and roads, carefully repaired by Shabak, had since his decease met with entire neglect; the cultivable lands had been devastated, and the whole population decimated periodically.  Out of the ruins of the old Egypt, Psamatik had to raise up a new Egypt.  He had to revivify the dead corpse, and put a fresh