in his hand, and at Philas, is represented as holding an egg on a potter’s wheel; but I do not know if this symbol occurs in older sculptures.  His usual title is the “Lord of Truth”.  Others, very beautiful “King of the Two Worlds, of Gracious Countenance,” “Superintendent of the Great Abode,” etc., are given by Mr. Birch in Arundale’s “Gallery of Antiquities,” which I suppose is the book of best authority easily accessible.  For the full titles and utterances of the gods, Rosellini is as yet the only—­and I believe, still a very questionable—­authority, and Arundale’s little book, excellent in the text, has this great defect, that its drawings give the statues invariably a ludicrous or ignoble character Readers who have not access to the originals must be warned against this frequent fault in modern illustration (especially existing also in some of the painted casts of Gothic and Norman work at the Crystal Palace).  It is not owing to any willful want of veracity:  the plates in Arundale’s book are laboriously faithful:  but the expressions of both face and body in a figure depend merely on emphasis of touch, and, in barbaric art most draughtsmen emphasize what they plainly see—­the barbarism, and miss conditions of nobleness, which they must approach the monument in a different temper before they will discover and draw with great subtlety before they can express.

The character of the Lower Pthah, or perhaps I ought rather to say, of Pthah in his lower office, is sufficiently explained in the text of the third Lecture, only the reader must be warned that the Egyptian symbolism of him by the beetle was not a scornful one, it expressed only the idea of his presence in the first elements of life.  But it may not unjustly be used, in another sense, by us, who have seen his power in new development, and, even as it was, I cannot conceive that the Egyptians should have regarded their beetle headed image of him (Champollion, “Pantheon,” p. 12), without some occult scorn.  It is the most painful of all their types of any beneficent power, and even among those of evil influences, none can be compared with it, except its opposite, the tortoise headed demon of indolence.

Pasht (p. 27, line 9) is connected with the Greek Artemis, especially in her offices of judgment and vengeance.  She is usually lioness headed, sometimes cat headed, her attributes seeming often trivial or ludicrous unless their full meaning is known, but the inquiry is much too wide to be followed here.  The cat was sacred to her, or rather to the sun, and secondarily to her.  She is alluded to in the text because she is always the companion of Pthah (called “the beloved of Pthah,” it may be as Judgment, demanded and longed for by Truth), and it may be well for young readers to have this fixed in their minds, even by chance association.  There are more statues of Pasht in the British Museum than of any other Egyptian deity; several of them fine in workmanship, nearly all in dark stone, which may be, presumably, to connect her, as the moon, with the night; and in her office of avenger, with grief.