All that can with certainty be affirmed is, that the architect was named Sostrates. Montfaucon, in his great work, endeavours to explain how it is that while we are thus informed as to the _architect_, we are so doubtful as to the _founder_, whom, for his part, he believes to have been Ptolemæus. Our ignorance, he says, is owing to the knavery of Sostrates. He wished to immortalize his name; a blameless wish, if at the same time he had not sought to suppress that of the founder, whose glory it was to have suggested the erection. For this purpose Sostrates devised a stratagem which proved successful; deep in the wall of the tower he cut the following inscription: “Sostrates of Cnidos, son of Dexiphanes, to the gods who Protect those who are upon the Sea.” But, mistrustful that King Ptolemæus would scarcely be satisfied with an inscription in which he was wholly ignored, he covered it with a light coat of cement, which he knew would not long endure the action of the atmosphere, and carved thereon the name of Ptolemæus. After a few years the cement and the name of the king disappeared, and revealed the inscription which gave all the glory to Sostrates. Montfaucon, with genial credulity, adopts this anecdote as authentic, and adds: Pliny pretends that Ptolemæus, out of the modesty and greatness of his soul, desired the architect’s name to be engraved upon the tower, and no reference to himself to be made. But this statement is very dubious; it would have passed as incredible in those times, and even to-day would be regarded as an ill-understood act of magnanimity. We have never heard of any prince prohibiting the perpetuation of his name upon magnificent works designed for the public utility, or being content that the architect should usurp the entire honour. To solve the difficulty, Champollion represents the pharos as constructed by Ptolemæus Soter. But, as Edrisi solemnly remarks, “God alone knows what is the truth.” Much etymological erudition has been expended on the derivation of the word _Pharos_. As far as the Alexandrian light-tower is concerned, there can be no doubt that it was named from the islet on which it stood; yet Isidore asserts that the word came from φὼς, “light,” and ὁρἀν, “to see.” To quote again from Montfaucon: That numerous persons, who have not read the Greek authors, should exercise their ingenuity to no avail in the extraction of these etymologies, is far less surprising than that so good a scholar as Isaac Vossius should seek the origin of _Pharos_ in the Greek language. From ϕαἰνειν, “to shine,” he says, comes ϕανερός, and from ϕανερός, ϕάρος.... But the island was called _Pharos_ seven or eight hundred years before it possessed either tower or beacon-light. The most reasonable conjecture seems to be that the word is a Hellenic form of _Phrah_, the Egyptian name of the sun, to whom the Alexandrian lighthouse would naturally be compared by wondering spectators, or dedicated by a devout prince.