in the palace, while the general crowd of courtiers could only enter unshod; that of kissing the knees and not the feet of the “good god,” and that of wearing the panther’s skin.  Among those who enjoyed these distinctions were the physicians of the king, chaplains, and men of the roll—­“khri-habi.”  The latter did not confine themselves to the task of guiding Pharaoh through the intricacies of ritual, nor to that of prompting him with the necessary formulas needed to make the sacrifice efficacious; they were styled “Masters of the Secrets of Heaven,” those who see what is in the firmament, on the earth and in Hades, those who know all the charms of the soothsayers, prophets, or magicians.  The laws relating to the government of the seasons and the stars presented no mysteries to them, neither were they ignorant of the months, days, or hours propitious to the undertakings of everyday life or the starting out on an expedition, nor of those times during which any action was dangerous.  They drew their inspirations from the books of magic written by Thot, which taught them the art of interpreting dreams or of curing the sick, or of invoking and obliging the gods to assist them, and of arresting or hastening the progress of the sun on the celestial ocean.  Some are mentioned as being able to divide the waters at their will, and to cause them to return to their natural place, merely by means of a short formula.  An image of a man or animal made by them out of enchanted wax, was imbued with life at their command, and became an irresistible instrument of their wrath.  Popular stories reveal them to us at work.  “Is it true,” said Kheops to one of them, “that thou canst replace a head which has been cut off?” On his admitting that he could do so, Pharaoh immediately desired to test his power.  “Bring me a prisoner from prison and let him be slain.”  The magician, at this proposal, exclaimed:  “Nay, nay, not a man, sire my master; do not command that this sin should be committed; a fine animal will suffice!” A goose was brought, “its head was cut off and the body was placed on the right side, and the head of the goose on the left side of the hall:  he recited what he recited from his book of magic, the goose began to hop forward, the head moved on to it, and, when both were united, the goose began to cackle.  A pelican was produced, and underwent the same process.  His Majesty then caused a bull to be brought forward, and its head was smitten to the ground:  the magician recited what he recited from his book of magic, the bull at once arose, and he replaced on it what had fallen to the earth.”  The great lords themselves deigned to become initiated into the occult sciences, and were invested with these formidable powers.  A prince who practised magic would enjoy amongst us nowadays but small esteem:  in Egypt sorcery was not considered incompatible with royalty, and the magicians of Pharaoh often took Pharaoh himself as their pupil.*