from the sea-shore to my caravan, I urged him more than usual; he turned his head towards me and looked at me with a faint cry, as if to apprize me that we had still a great way to go, and that if I made him move any quicker, it would be impossible for him to carry me to my destination.

Morning and evening, when our camels were grouped around our caravan, I took pleasure in visiting and caressing them; but I always returned in preference to my white dromedary which lay at the door of my tent. I deputed to no other the care of feeding this faithful companion of my pilgrimage: it was I who gave him from time to time some of the beans which I had brought expressly for him; he knew my voice, and seemed to understand me; I paid him particular attention, which he remarked, and for which he appeared grateful. Though he could endure thirst much longer than myself, I frequently shared my water with him, heedless of the difficulty of obtaining a fresh supply. He would drink, looking at me with eyes in which I fancied that I could discover a sort of thankfulness. I have parted from him, and I must confess with regret; because no animal has reminded or ever will remind me more forcibly of the infinite goodness of God to manthat goodness which the philosopher, without faith, without hope, without charity, stupidly attributes to Nature.

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LETTER LV.

JOURNEY TO UPPER EGYPT-RETURN-COLONEL PROKESCH-VISIT TO MEHEMET ALI-EXECUTIONERS - MASSACRE OF THE MAMELUKES

MOSQUES OF CAIRO- THE KORAN-CORPUS CHRISTI DAY.

Cairo, June 8, 1833.

I have just come back from a long and arduous journey, a journey wholly unforeseen, and of which I had no thoughts when I last wrote to you. I have come from the extremities of Upper Egypt, the limits of the ancient Roman empire. I have been to the first cataract of the great river, and my farthest steps have touched Nubia. Twenty times during this excursion I have wished to write to you; twenty times I have taken up the pen, and as often my recollection of the absolute impossibility of transmitting my despatches to you has caused me to lay it down again.

On my return from Sinai, the essential object of my pilgrimage was fulfilled: I had seen the places dear to my faith, and my heart was satisfied. I then thought only of returning to Europe with my recollections, and with all the precious memorials for Christian piety that I had been able to acquire, and of repairing to my monastery to bury myself there once more. I had even begun to make preparations for my departure, when an unexpected circumstance caused me to suspend them, and to defer the execution of my intentions.

The Count d'Estourmel was here for a few days, with Messieurs de Gontaut, his nephews. Having travelled through Greece and part of Asia Minor, these gentlemen were making arrangements for visiting Upper Egypt:

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they proposed to me to accompany them, and urged me to do so by all the motives that extreme good-nature, I might even say friendship, could suggest. I hesitated at first. A pilgrim, a monk, unable at my age to cast a look upon the future, without thinking of the necessity of making good use of the little time that is reserved for me in the secret decrees of Providence, in order to prepare myself for another journey, whose success, of infinitely greater importance, can alone ensure the felicity to which I aspire; for my participation in the abovementioned plan, I could plead nothing but the gratification of a curiosity perfectly reasonable in itself, to be sure, but perhaps less legitimate for me than for persons who have not entirely broken with the world, or bidden it farewell for ever. These considerations raised scruples in my mind. Some pains were taken to remove them, and, I must acknowledge, successfully. With a superior understanding and extensive attainments, M. d'Estourmel combines the most amiable manners and exemplary piety. He remarked that the opportunity was such as could never offer again; he represented that Thebais, so interesting to the philosophic inquirer, is not less so to the Christian; that it reminds us of the heroes of Christianity not less than of those of the pagan religions, and of our great God not less than of the absurd divinities of Egypt. I suffered myself to be persuaded, and went.

I have just visited with him those Egyptian cities, most of which, after filling the pagan world with the renown of their grandeur, their power, their wisdom, and their arts, seemed doomed to oblivion, till modern Science

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went to awaken their glory, slumbering under the dust of ages. Dendera, Thebes, Carnac, Luxor, Esné, Edfou, Hermontis, Ombos, Syene, the Isle of Philoe, &c. have successively shown to me all that is curious, extraordinary, and magnificent, discovered in our days by the most celebrated European travellers in such of their monuments as Time has respected, or the relics of which it has spared. I have closely surveyed their astonishing ruins, the gigantic master-pieces of their architecture, those colossal figures, those obelisks, those palaces, those temples, those chapels, those lofty walls covered with inscriptions, basso-relievos, and paintings, those columns, those sphynxes, those hypogeums, those tombs, that bespeak conceptions and efforts, of which one would not conceive either the genius or the strength of man to be capable. I have lodged, I have taken my meals, I have slept, in those subterraneous halls, beneath those sepulchral vaults where lay the Pharaohs-those Pharaohs, who sought by all the means which their power afforded to ensure the inviolability of their tombs, and whose tombs were, nevertheless, violated by greedy hands, which rummaged their embalmed bowels in search of hoarded gold, and then scattered abroad their mutilated relics. I have even saluted that famed statue of Memnon, so celebrated in history: I seated myself before sunrise on his enormous knees, but in vain I solicited from him some of those harmonious sounds, which, according to the ancient traditions, issued from his granite bosom; and which, as Tacitus relates, were heard by Germanicus.

My eyes, too, have wandered afar over those deserts, which, in the first ages of the Church and even in the

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time of the persecutions, were peopled with cenobites and anchorets over those deserts where dwelt, in fasting, in mortification, in the austerities of the severest penance, the Pauls, the Hilarions, the Macariuses, the Pachomiuses, and their innumerable disciples. I have penetrated into some of those caves, hollowed out here and there, some by nature, others by the hands of the recluses, and which were so many cells for them. I have contemplated, with a satisfaction mingled with sadness, those ruins of monasteries and of ancient churches; and especially those arid sands, those rocks, the vast theatre whither thousands of Christians repaired, to devote long years of their life to the meditation of celestial things, to pray to God, to combat their passions, to purify their hearts, and to exhibit to the most superstitious people on the face of the earth the wonderful sacrifices, and the virtues which the true religion is capable of inspiring.

My intention, let me tell you at once, is not to enter here into details, and to load this letter with long descriptions too foreign to my subject. That task belongs essentially to those who write for science, and it has been already performed by men of such eminent merit, that it will henceforward be difficult to surpass, perhaps even to equal, them. Whenever you wish to acquire any thing like a correct knowledge of Upper Egypt, turn to the works of the savants who accompanied the French expedition to the East; consult the publications of a Jomard, a Denon, a Champollion, and there you will find unrolled the vast picture of the things which I have seen and admired.

Nevertheless, my dear Charles, I shall not quit this