Letters on Egypt, Edom, and the Holy Land. (Letter on the present state and prospects of Syria from J. W. Farren.)

Front matter

WW. "Ramsay 7. MartmtoColiLh., 26 I LETTERS ON EGYPT, EDOM, AND THE HOLY LAND. EY LORD LINDSAY. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON : HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 1838. LONDON : P. SHOEERI., JUN, 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET- JOHN W. FARREN, ESQ. I, ATE CONSUL-GENERAL IN SYRIA, THESE LETTERS ARE INSCRIBED. PREFAC E. I hope that those who do me the honour of pe rusing these Letters will not take them for more than they are worth, — a simple, and, I trust, faithful record of impressions as they arose, and incidents as they occurred, such as I conceived would be read with interest at home. In preparing them for the press, I have divested them of much that could possess no general interest. If certain allusions to members of my family circle have been allowed to stand, it is only because they arose so naturally out of the circumstances, that they serve

Preface

. VI to illustrate them, or that, in one or two instances, I could not find it in my heart to cut them out. I may be permitted to allude to the subject of many reflections in these volumes — the literal accomplishment of prophecy, as displayed in the actual condition of Egypt, Edom, and Syria. Others have borne their testimony ; it is but adding a stone to the cairn, yet I cannot, and ought not, to withhold mine. I embrace with pleasure this opportunity of expressing my sincere acknowledgments for the uniform courtesy and kindness I experienced during my recent tour. To Tibaldi, Esq. of Alexandria, and his amiable lady; — to Colonel Campbell, Her Majesty's Consul-General in Egypt, — to M. Piozin, Vice-Consul, — to Dr. Walne, John Hannay, Esq., and the Rev. Theo philus Lieder, at Cairo; — to the Reverend the American Missionaries, and Moore, Esq. at Jerusalem ; — and to Nathanael Moore, Esq. Bri tish Consul at Beyrout, (whose courtesies I regret having been prevented from personally acknow ledging),—my peculiar thanks are due. On my

PREFACE.

. VII obligations to Mr. Farren, Consul General in Syria, I will not dwell in this place. I cannot conclude without adverting to the lamented decease of my friend and near relation, Mr. William Wardlaw Ramsay, the companion of the greater part of my tour. If excellent abilities and sound judgment, ex panding and maturing every day; — if singular genius for music and drawing, and a general love for the fine arts, balanced by an enlightened taste for science and natural philosophy; — if sweetness of temper, a warm, kind heart, and sincere but unostentatious religious principle — be qualities to render a character attractive and estimable, and to enhance the sorrow of surviving friends for the loss of one who, if spared by an all-wise Provi dence, would have been a blessing to his family, and an ornament to society — such a character, such qualities, were Mr. Ramsay's. I have extracted from his private journal, and appended to the present work in the shape of notes, many passages which, I think, will be read with

PREFACE.

. interest by every one into whose hands these volumes may fall. Haigh, Feb. 1838. Since w»rting the above, I have been favoured, by the kindness of Mr. Farren, with a most in teresting communication on the present state and prospects of Syria. If I have myself refrained from adding to the few general observations which forced themselves upon me, while resident in that unhappy country, it has been only in consequence of the strong conviction that, while the casual visitor has the right, and, at certain periods, almost incurs the obligation, of recording irhat he sees, the springs of evil, the sources from which the tides of misery flow, are remote and inacces sible to him without the assistance of a guide, con versant with all the tortuous and gloomy avenues that lead to them. To Mr. Farren, therefore, as to one whom many years' residence in the country, and many years' study, under peculiar advantages, of the character and prejudices of the natives,

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. IX pointed out as the man of all others most able to give me the information I desired — I applied ; and the letter, which closes the text of these volumes, was his answer to my request. To invite the attention of the Public to a docu ment emanating from such authority, and at such a moment — when Mohammed Ali is said to be on the point of openly renouncing his allegiance to the Porte, and England, it is said, actually hesitates which party to espouse ! would be super fluous. 21, Berkeley Square. 10th July, 1838. ILLUSTRATIONS. VOL. I. Citadel of Cairo Frontispiece. VOL II. Gebel Serbal from Wady Feiran Frontispiece. CONTENTS OP THE FIRST VOLUME.

Letter II

Voyage to Malta — San Giovanni — Ruins and Catacombs of Alexandria 19

Letter III

Voyage to Cairo — Sais — Introduction to the Pasha — Tombs of the Mamaluke Sultans — Cairo at sunset — Bazars — Courtesy to Franks — Garden of. Roda — Old Cairo — Cemetery of the Mamaluke Beys — School at Boulac — Printing-press — Egyptian Christians — Jews — Magicians, Jugglers, &c. .... 38

Letter IV

Visit to the Pyramids — Pyramid of Cheops — Evening with Caviglia — Pyramids of Cephrenes and Myceriirus — Arab traditions respecting the Pyramids — The xn CONTENTS. Sphinx, a talisman— Heliopolis — The Pyramids pro bably built by the Pali, or Shepherd-Kings of Egypt, afterwards the Philistines, in the time of Abraham 71

Letter V

Our Dahabieh — Night-Scenes on the Nile — Pyramids of Saccara, Dashour, &c. — The False Pyramid — Minieh — Story of Ebn Khasib — Siout — Tombs of Lycopolis — Stabl Antar — Traditions of the Copts — Ruins of Abydus — Palace of Sesostris — Kenneh .... 114

Letter VI

Thebes. Temples — Sculptures — Tombs — Fulfilment of the Prophecies. Esneh — Edfou — Essouan — Ascent of the Cataracts — Nubia — Upper Cataracts — Wellee Kiashef — Disaster and detention at Essouan. Temples of Herment — Dendera — Ombos — Tombs of Benihassan — Memphis — Pyramids of Saccara and Dashour — Cairo 146 EDOM AND THE HOLY LAND.

Letter VII

Journey to Mount Sinai. Desert of Suez — Mara — Route of the Israelites — Wady Shellal — Wady Mokatteb — Wady Feiran — Ascent to the Sinaite Mountains — Reception at the Convent — Ascent of Mount St. Catherine— Of Gebel Mousa— Of Gebel Minnegia, possibly the real Sinai . . . ' ERRATA. VOLUME I. Page 148, line 14, after together, insert a comma. Page 158, line 12, for processes, read processions. Page 187, line 2, for Nicholas, read Nicholaus. Page 219, line 3, after forgotten, insert a comma. Page 277, last line but one, between Egyptians and all, insert a dash. Page 315, line 12, dele dash after looking. Page 373, line 19 (from the bottom), read " lacrymas hie maesta profudi," &c. Page 373, line 8 (from the bottom), for paying, read paging. Page 386, line 5, for converture, read couverture.

Page 404, line 14 (from the bottom), for 1341, read 1346. VOLUME II. Page 118, line 11, read "strength he had heard so highly vaunted," &c. Page 170, line 5 (from the bottom,) for Grecian, read Syrian. Page 171, line 14, dele " of which '..... standing," and read adjoin for adjoined. Page 173, line 7, dele the. Page 360, transpose lines 25 and 26. LETTERS ON EGYPT. " All were but Babel vanities ! Time sadly overcometh all things, and is now dominant, and sitteth on a Sphinx, and looketh upon Memphis and old Thebes, while his sister, Oblivion, reclineth demi-somnous on a Pyramid, glo riously triumphing, making puzzles of Titanian erections, and turning old glories into dreams. History sinketh beneath her cloud. The traveller, as hepaceth amazedly through those deserts, asketh of her, Who builded them ? and she mumbleth something, but what it is he heareth not.

" Egypt itself is now become the land of obliviousness and doteth. Her ancient civility is gone, and her glory hath vanished as a phantasma. Her youthful days are over, and her face hath become wrinkled and tetrick. She poreth not upon the heavens ; Astronomy is dead unto her, and Knowledge maketh other cycles. Canopus is afar off, Memnon resoundeth not to the Sun, and Nilus heareth strange voices. Her monuments are but hieioglyphically sempiternal. Osiris and Anubis, her aver runcous deities, have departed, while Orus yet remains, dimly shadowing the principle of vicissitude and the effluxion of things, but receiveth little oblation." Sir Thomas Browne. II VOL. I. LETTERS ON EGYPT.

Letter I

Cadiz— Gibraltar— The Cork Wood— Carteia. TO LIEUTENANT COLONEL LINDSAY. Gibraltar, November 10, 1836. How I longed for you, yesterday, dear James, at Cadiz, and here, too, at Gibraltar, happy should I have been this morning to have had your company during the glorious scramble I have had over every ridge of the old Rock ! But of Cadiz first — I thought as we sailed away yestreen, (a delicious autumnal evening), I. had b2 CADIZ s never seen a lovelier sight, her long serrated ridge of white buildings sharply defined against a glowing sunset sky — Rota glittering, like a town of King Salem's sprung up from Ocean, at the further extremity of the bay, tipping its horn, as it were, with a diamond crown — the lateen sails scudding around us like gigantic nautiluses, stooping over the green waters like the beautiful sea-birds that were sporting in every direction — oh ! it was lovely, very lovely !

We had but four hours allowed us to visit Cadiz ; I threw my shyness to the winds, and used my eyes, stared into every nook and corner, and at every one, man and woman, we met. But you cannot have forgotten the scene, though long familiarity with its details may have effaced the remembrance of your first general impressions ; to me it was all " fresh and fresh, new and new," like the Indian beauty in the song— a living, breathing, moving CADIZ 5 tableau, a waking dream rather, for whether I was in or out of the body I can scarce tell, now that I reflect on the vision, so many ideas familiar to my fancy were then presented to my eyes in the warmest glow of reality ; all, too, intensely Spanish — the long black cloaks of the sleepy hidalgos, long as their names, threadbare many of them as the mantle of chivalry their ancestors wore so gracefully — the Moorish faces, conical hats, and sashes of the lower, and, as they seemed to me, far nobler order — the cigarillos, common to all — the fans, mantillas, the black eyes, beautiful feet, and graceful gliding gait of the Senoritas — but oh ! what frights the old women are ! and then the painted balconies above, that give such a character to the straight narrow stradas, flowers in most of them, but, alas ! the " fairer flowers," Eve's daughters, were few or none -visible upon them — and the dazzling white ness of the houses, every thing, too, as clean CADIZ as if the Gaditanos were Dutchmen,— it was like a scene of enchantment ; to say nothing of the exquisite delight of being on Spanish ground, and hearing the language of Calderon and Cervantes on every lip that passed me.

I saw but two or three priests, not idly sauntering about as in the palmy days of Rome, but walking, it seemed to me, with an object, — slowly, however, as if their ponderous shells of hats were too heavy for them, and crestfallen ; in this respect your Spanish recol lections must vary from existing circumstances : the convents, too, were all shut up, and the bells over the gates looked as if conscious of having tolled their last. We knocked loud and long at one of the conventual buildings, in hopes of seeing some pictures once shown there ; but no porter hurried to the gate, the street was silent, only one boy to be seen in it, and he could not tell us who had the keys. The cathedral, however, is still building, a CADIZ, 7 most superb edifice of the richest Corinthian architecture, but overloaded in many places, I thought, with ornament ; the choir, however, is truly beautiful, all marble ; indeed the whole temple is so, and exquisitely finished.

Yet I do not like the Corinthian ; the " airy pillar" and the " decent matron grace " of the Ionic are far lovelier, far purer, far holier ; the Doric and Ionic remind one of Adam and Eve as they walked in naked innocence, and in all their original brightness, through the bowers of Paradise; but the spirit of the Corinthian is meretricious, too like that of the Laises and Co. of old Corinth herself: this is fanciful, perhaps, but oh ! there is a deep poetry, a hidden melody, in architecture, "frozen music," as it has been called, but it thaws now and then, when the fancy warms, and discourses most eloquently to her ear and eye. How beautiful, by the way, are Schlegel's criticisms on the Gothic architecture ! Did CADIZ A tell you I have him with me ? Shak speare has been my chief reading since I left old England ; this she will be glad to hear.

I have read over again several of his plays, but exquisitely beautiful as they are whenever he is himself, the pure Poet, I cannot away with his clowns and vile puns, grossie'retes, and double entendres, bad enough even among men, but which he allows even his heroines to hear, ay, and understand, ay, and reply to. But Desdemona is perfect throughout ; I was trying her the other evening, as I lay in my cabin, by the severest ordeal, St. Paul's exquisite de lineation of Charity, or, as it should be translated, Love ; Shakspeare must have had it in his thoughts ; it fits her in every point, especially in her unsuspicious purity, " thinking no evil ;" observe her wonder in what manner her husband could think her false, and oh ! what a contrast between her mind and Emilia's, at the end of the fourth act, and, again, between her CADIZ. 9 and Juliet, the poetical passionate Juliet; I remember no one simile or metaphor that Des demona utters, and Juliet's fancy is rich as the orange-groves of Mola di Gaeta, and sparkling as the waves that ripple to their feet, but she is " of the earth, earthy," in comparison with the pure azure heaven of Desdemona's mind, which one can gaze up into as into infinite space, unarrested by a cloud, unless of tears and sorrow !

How beautiful, though, and how natural is the moonlight scene between Juliet and Romeo ! When I think on it, I almost fear I have judged her harshly — and yet, no. It has just struck twelve ; I am sitting with my window open, a brilliant starlight night, the air balm ; I could almost expect a visit from the Diable Boiteux, and should not be sorry to have the houses of Gibraltar unroofed for my inspection — and this reminds me of one of the things that most interested me at Cadiz — a visit to the terraced roof of M. Campan's b CADIZ house, a kind old French merchant, our fellow passenger, who entertained our party most hospitably. It was the - best possible com mentary on many a passage not only in Spanish but Eastern romance; with a short rope-ladder one might travel over half the town. The house itself seemed but just finished, yet, in character, was quite Moorish ; a court in the centre — balconied galleries opening upon it at each story — mats, &c. &c, every thing calculated to promote coolness.

I kept a sharp look-out for traces of the Moors, and they are very visible. I thought of riding across country to Gibraltar, but was advised to give up the idea : the country, they said, was uninteresting, (I should have seen manners, however) and, what decided me, my time here would have been much curtailed ; I came on therefore by sea, and this morning, about nine, we anchored under the Rock of Gibraltar. GIBRALTAR. I am glad that I saw Cadiz, a thoroughly- Spanish town, before coming to this mongrel neutral ground, intensely interesting though it be. Bedreddin Hassan, awaking at the gate of Damascus, entered an unknown, but still an Eastern city ; the contrast to him was nothing to what it was to me, stepping off the quay of Cadiz, surrounded by wild Cadesians with their Calabrian-like hats, swarthy as their Phœnician ancestors, to be set down among English uniforms, sentries, and all the pomp and cir cumstance of British soldiery, guards changing, officers riding past, and all speaking English.

But nothing of this incongruity offended our eyes as we approached the Rock — Europe and Africa, " A palace and a prison on each hand," of Nature's architecture, or such rather by the God of Nature's decree; the morning was gloomy, a lowering mist hung heavily over the Rock in front of us, and I could almost have GIBRALTAR. fancied we were arriving at the Table Mountain instead of the Northern pillar of Hercules. Mount Atlas was but dimly seen in the distance, but a purer light gleamed over Algesiras, as if the rays of chivalry still lingered over the death scene of the " good Lord James of Douglas ; " as the day advanced, the clouds disappeared, and when I gazed around me a few hours afterwards from the Peak of Tarif, a sunny haze was the only resemblance the scene bore to our northern atmosphere.

I need not tell you of the excavations, galleries, St. George's Hall, the blasted watch tower, &c. I scrambled over the whole mountain, taking a most intelligent artilleryman as my guide, a countryman, as I ascertained by the first word he spoke — his sergeant is a Lindsay from Dunse. I feared we should not see the monkeys, but there they were in num bers, apparently on excellent terms with the goats, their only companions on the height. GIBRALTAR. 13 How beautiful the palmetto is ! and oh ! how A would have enjoyed our return through a perfect garden ; strange tropical-looking plants, the fantastic prickly pear, and the aloe, hedging the pathway, and her old Italian acquaintances, the fig, almond, orange and lemon, and the grateful plane tree — ay, and the Scotch fir, growing luxuriantly, (and the richest vines, too), on the lower zone of the mountain.

We descended by the Mediterranean steps, as they are called, cut in the precipitous face of the rock, and winding round towards Europa Point; the broad Mediterranean — with those picturesque lateen sails that look as if, at the approach of a storm, they would furl themselves up and sink to the bottom — expanded in front of us, glowing in the waning sun, — A leaf of gold Of Nature's Book, by Nature's God unrolled. I have just been leaning out of the window listening to a serenade ! all below me dark as GIBRALTAR. Erebus, the raven down of night, and all silent save the " lively guitar," and the deep voice of the caballero mingling in harmony and swelling richly on the night-air. And when the last note died away, I could just hear the closing strain of another, far, far off, dying into silence like the echo of the " song of the olden time," I had just been listening to.

Music such as this might have been lingering on the ear of Melancholy, when Albert Durer sur prised, fell in love with, and immortalized her. Very pleasant food all this for midnight musing, yet daylight too has its attractions, and I then look down on a motley and ever shifting scene, all nations seeming to meet here as at Venice, though Gibraltar, to be sure, is any thing but " enchanted ground ;" the Moor, with his white turban, burnoosh, and trowsers ; the Jew, with his black skull-cap, beard, and Israelitish face, the " index of his pedigree" the wide world over — I saw one stalk past this GIBRALTAR. morning with the very air of a Maccabee, his haughty mien, and the scorn throned on his erect brow, (or I wronged him), alike con trasting with the humble subdued gait of his brethren, and the holiday attire and light springy step of the Andalusian peasant, — the contrast of a " gay Gordon," to a " Black Dou glas" — no disparagement, surely, in a compari son with the Wallace of Judea ; then comes the mule or donkeydriver, haranguing his beast as he trudges behind it, side by side, oh atro city ! with an English red coat !

Here, at least, " motley is the only wear." And now, dear James, buenas noches, and God be with you ! I will not wish you the misery of living a thousand years. More to-morrow. To-day, November the 11th, we have had a delightful gallop, Missirie and I, into Andalusia, past La Roque, to the Corkwood, about ten miles from Gibraltar ; the scenery is quite GIBRALTAR. beautiful— the day, at first rainy, cleared up ere we had ridden half a dozen miles, and the after noon was lovely. From a ruined Moorish tower in the centre of the wood, we enjoyed a most beautiful prospect over the long vale we had passed through, wooded with cork-trees, olives, vines, oranges, lemons, and one noble palm-tree near a convent, a steep range of mountains closing the vista at one end, the Rock at the other, rising over the waves like some vast Preadamite sea-monster.

Returning, we rode here and there, this way and that, in search of the old town of Carteia, supposed to have been the first founded by the Phœniciansafterpassingthe pillars of Hercules. After a long search we found it ; the theatre is clearly traceable, scooped out iu the side of the hill, looking towards Gibraltar ; the back ground of the scene must have been noble indeed, the Mediterranean rushing between the two Continents. GIBRALTAR. I am more and more pleased with Missirie, he is the most attentive creature possible, good-humoured, observant, and intelligent ; I had much conversation with him this morning during our ride ; he is really an agreeable com panion, having read not a little by fits and starts, and having seen so many countries. He had studied for two years at Odessa, when the Greek Revolution broke out, and then joined the patriots.

We are on the best terms, and I am sure we shall continue to be so. His facility in acquiring languages seems extraor dinary. English he speaks with singular correctness. (') Saturday, November 12. I had no idea this letter would go so soon, but a steamer, I have just heard, sails for England in a day or two, and, as I have not time to epistolise my mother at length, and she will be anxious to hear all my adventures, GIBRALTAR. I have presumed to direct this letter to her, begging her to read and forward it to its right ful owner. We have a heavenly day, " blue above and blue below," for our departure. By the bye, they have an admirable garrison library here ; the catalogue is well drawn up on the plan of that of the Royal Institution by Harris. I think I should like to spend a month or two here ; nowhere, I suppose, could one enjoy at once such a climate and such a library. Adieu. VOYAGE TO MALTA.

Letter II

Voyage to Malta — San Giovanni — Ruins and Catacombs of Alexandria. TO THE COUNTESS OF BALCAKRAS. Malta. We left Gibraltar, my dear Mother, on Saturday afternoon, the 12th, and have had charming weather, and a delightful voyage to Malta. Sunday and Monday we were coast ing Spain and Barbary, and admiring the mountain ridges that frown from either shore, awakening memories how interesting ! of Juba and the Romans, on the one hand — of the Xarifas and Fatimas, the Zegris and Abencer rages, of poor Boabdil, and of Gonsalvo de Cordova, on the other ! VOYAGE TO About eight on Monday night we touched at Algiers — thrilling name ! The crescent moon was gleaming over it, but not very clear ; the crescent is pale, pale all over the East now. We landed a young Dane there, the son of the Danish Consul at Tangiers, and ohe of the Royal Guard of Denmark; he was going to join the French expedition against Constantina, and I really felt sorry when he left us on such a perilous adventure. 1 found him full of in formation, and very intelligent, particularly on the subject of Northern Antiquities ; he sang me several of his Danish songs as we walked the deck.

Still coasting the Barbary mountains — so runs the log-book ; pass Bona, old Hippo Re gius, dear to the memory as the home of St. Augustine — but during the night, alas !—Bi zerta—the Cani rocks — Porto Farina, Cato's Utica, and Cape Carthage, behind which lies the site of Dido's palace, Cyprian's garden — MALTA. 21 where the soldiers seized him, generous, noble minded Cyprian ! Then across the Bay of Tunis, with a, beautiful view of the mountains hemming it in to the south ; before weathering Cape Bon, pass the vast and lofty island rock of Zembra, reminding one, when directly north of it, of the volcanic isle of Sabrina. Bid adieu to the Barbary coast, and for awhile nothing but the sea-circle for our horizon ; presently Gozo in sight — rough rocky hills, but the lights and shadows beautiful — skim past it through the waves on which Tele machus floated, if Gozo be the Isle of Calypso, which I don't believe it was — and lo, Malta, with her deep harbours, picturesque tiers of houses, impregnable batteries, and English shipping !

How changed — But I had little time, or, in truth, inclination, at that moment, to think of days by-gone, for scarcely had we anchored in the quarantine harbour, when dear William came alongside to MALTA greet me ; he had secured me rooms in Be verley's Hotel, and we adjourned thither with out delay ; he is remarkably well, and we look forward with great pleasure to the prosecution of our tour together. Oh ! the rapture of a first visit to San Gio vanni ! those gorgeous and chivalric tombs of the Grand Masters and the Knights of St. John ! I shall not be content now till I see Rhodes, invested with more familiar interest to a clansman of Radulphus de Lindesay, Lord David of the Byres, and Sir Walter, " Lord of Sainct Johne, and Knicht of Torphicane, By sea and land ane vailzeant Capitane," as Davie Lindsay calls him.

I visited the armoury in the old palace — neither worth seeing ; spacious galleries and chambers, but nothing after Venice. The library too, full of the fat old folios of the seventeenth century. They seem a curious set, these Maltese : their language is most disso- MALTA. nant, a mere jargon of Arabic, but all speak broken English ; their national airs, however, are beautiful, especially one, beginning, " Selloom tal harir," &c. which you will find in my MS. collection of national music; I have not heard it here, nor indeed anything iu the way of minstrelsy, except " Rule Britannia," which they have been chanting most uproariously in honour of their new governor, Sir Henry Bou verie. Before re-embarking, I paid another visit to St. John's, by far the most interesting spot at Malta — for this is not the Melita where St. Paul was wrecked.

One, the last survivor, I believe, of the old knights, a countryman too of Bayard and Duguesclin, was pointed out to me — a poor decrepit, feeble old man — alas ! alas ! Alexandria, November 30. We arrived here last Friday, to wit, Novem ber the 25th ; the day was lovely, the sea of a ALEXANDRIA. delicate light green, the sky exquisitely clear, of a rosy transparent hue, smiling our welcome to the city of Cleopatra, as we sailed into the harbour — then a glorious oriental sunset. There is little or no twilight in these latitudes, and it was quite dusk by the time we reached our inn, riding on donkeys, the general con veyance in this country. Ah ! that was a happy evening ! A month's cramp in the cabin of a steam-boat exchanged for freedom and terra-firma, and that terra nrrna Egypt,, still the land of mystery, still a land of beauty !

" 'Tis here that the feathery palm trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies — " and never will palm trees rustle more melo diously, never will the moon and stars twinkle through their transparent foliage with more loveliness, never shall I enjoy the stillness and repose of an Eastern night with more thrilling pleasure, more thorough enjoyment, than I did ALEXANDRIA. 25 that evening, walking in the pretty little gar den behind Mrs. Hume's hotel, or resting in an arbour of trelliswork, under a branching vine, meditating on the past and present, and anticipating the future, in which, unless it be the mirage, I see many a hundred miles of Father Nile, many a lengthening vista of tem ples and colonnades, outstretched before me ; Nature and Art beckoning me on, and offering me the fruits of knowledge as the reward of my wanderings.