the heart of Egypt, and urged the nation to awake to the danger in the East.  An expedition against the rebels was organised, and one reads that Horemheb was the “companion of his Lord upon the battlefield on that day of the slaying of the Asiatics.”  Akhnaton had been opposed to warfare, and had dreamed that dream of universal peace which still is a far-off light to mankind.  Horemheb was a practical man in whom such a dream would have been but weakness; and, though one knows nothing more of these early campaigns, the fact that he attempted to chastise the enemies of the empire at this juncture stands to his credit for all time.

Under Tutankhamon the court returned to Thebes, though not yet exclusively to the worship of Amon; and the political phase of the revolution came to an end.  The country once more settled into the old order of life, and Horemheb, having experienced the full dangers of philosophic speculation, was glad enough to abandon thought for action.  He was now the most powerful man in the kingdom, and inscriptions call him “the greatest of the great, the mightiest of the mighty, presider over the Two Lands of Egypt, general of generals,” and so on.  The King “appointed him to be Chief of the Land, to administer the laws of the land as Hereditary Prince of all this land”; and “all that was done was done by his command.”  From chaos Horemheb was producing order, and all men turned to him in gratitude as he reorganised the various government departments.

The offices which he held, such as Privy Councillor, King’s Secretary, Great Lord of the People, and so on, are very numerous; and in all of these he dealt justly though sternly, so that “when he came the fear of him was great in the sight of the people, prosperity and health were craved for him, and he was greeted as ’Father of the Two Lands of Egypt.’” He was indeed the saviour and father of his country, for he had found her corrupt and disordered, and he was leading her back to greatness and dignity.

[Illustration:  PL.  XXI.  Head of a granite statue of the god Khonsu,
                        probably dating from about the period of
                        Horemheb. 
                        —­CAIRO MUSEUM.]

[Photo by Beato.

At this time he was probably a man of about forty years of age.  In appearance he seems to have been noble and good to look upon.  “When he was born,” says the inscription, “he was clothed with strength:  the hue of a god was upon him”; and in later life, “the form of a god was in his colour,” whatever that may mean.  He was a man of considerable eloquence and great learning.  “He astonished the people by that which came out of his mouth,” we are told; and “when he was summoned before the King the palace began to fear.”  One may picture the weak Pharaoh and his corrupt court, as they watched with apprehension the movements of this stern soldier, of whom it was said that his every thought was “in the footsteps of the Ibis,”—­the ibis being the god of wisdom.