So city after city fell, and the empire, won at such cost, was gradually lost to the Egyptians.  It is probable that Akhnaton had not realised how serious was the situation in Asia Minor.  A few of the chieftains who were not actually in arms against him had written to him every now and then assuring him that all was well in his dominions; and, strange to relate, the tribute of many of the cities had been regularly paid.  The Asiatic princes, in fact, had completely fooled the Pharaoh, and had led him to believe that the nations were loyal while they themselves prepared for rebellion.  Akhnaton, hating violence, had been only too ready to believe that the despatches from Tunip and elsewhere were unjustifiably pessimistic.  He had hoped to bind together the many countries under his rule, by giving them a single religion.  He had hoped that when Aton should be worshipped in all parts of his empire, and when his simple doctrines of love, truth, and peace should be preached from every temple throughout the length and breadth of his dominions, then war would cease and a unity of faith would hold the lands in harmony one with the other.

When, therefore, the tribute suddenly ceased, and the few refugees came staggering home to tell of the perfidy of the Asiatic princes and the fall of the empire, Akhnaton seems to have received his deathblow.  He was now not more than twenty-eight years of age; and though his portraits show that his face was already lined with care, and that his body was thinner than it should have been, he seems to have had plenty of reserve strength.  He was the father of several daughters, but his queen had borne him no son to succeed him; and thus he must have felt that his religion could not outlive him.  With his empire lost, with Thebes his enemy, and with his treasury wellnigh empty, one feels that Akhnaton must have sunk to the very depths of despondency.  His religious revolution had ruined Egypt, and had failed:  did he, one wonders, find consolation in the sunshine and amidst the flowers?

His death followed speedily; and, resting in the splendid coffin in which we found him, he was laid in the tomb prepared for him in the hills behind his new capital.  The throne fell to the husband of one of his daughters, Smenkhkara, who, after an ephemeral reign, gave place to another of the sons-in-law of Akhnaton, Tutankhaton.  This king was speedily persuaded to change his name to Tutankhamon, to abandon the worship of Aton, and to return to Thebes.  Akhnaton’s city fell into ruins, and soon the temples and palaces became the haunt of jackals and the home of owls.  The nobles returned with their new king to Thebes, and not one remained faithful to those “teachings” to which they had once pretended to be such earnest listeners.

[Illustration:  PL.  XX.  The coffin of Akhnaton lying in the tomb of
                       Queen Tiy.]

[Photo by R. Paul.