lunch like other vulgar mortals. This has only been excavated in recent times. It is built of huge oblong blocks of polished red granite, some measuring 13 feet by 5, and has a double row of similar monoliths to act as pillars. At the close of our meal, it felt homelike to see how glad the Arabs were to gather up the remaining fragments, and share them among themselves; after being accustomed to the Hindoo abhorrence of our touch, or that of any of their own brethren, if of other caste. Not that the Arabs would eat their prize at this hour. They were observing the long austere fast of Ramadhan far too strictly to be tempted to any infringement of the law, but it was well to make provision against sundown. During these long forty days, not so much as a crumb of bread, a cup of coffee, or even a whiff of smoke, may pass their lips from sunrise till sunset. Through the burning hours of noon, not a drop of cooling water may moisten the parched lips of a faithful follower of the Prophet. Several of the Arabs offered us small antiquities for sale, but having heard of the skill of the modern Copts in manufacturing such treasures, we did not invest therein, though some very fine fossil echini (sea-eggs) proved a more tempting bait. Of these we also found most beautiful recent specimens for sale at Suez. We were told that many places in this neighbourhood are highly fossiliferous. As to the pyramids themselves, whether they are, or are not, royal mausoleums, at least they are the sepulchres of countless myriads of minute creatures, inasmuch as the whole chain of Lybian mountains is one vast fossilised mass of nummulites;* so the pyramids and grave old sphynx are each solid heaps of organic remains. It is said that these nummulites were declared by Strabo to be petrified specimens of the barley and lentils supplied to the pyramid-builders!! Even if such was truly his verdict, it does seem rather hard that it should be remembered to this day! We were told that in the mud village of Gizeh (once the summer residence of the great folk of Cairo, and adorned with palaces and mosques, but now simply a dirty group of hovels) we might see the process of artificial egg-hatching, which has been carried on here since the days of the Pharaohs. However, Egyptian poultry are even worse neighbours than their Egyptian brethren, so we kept respectfully aloof, having besides no wish to encounter the clamour and jabber of a crowd of Arab women, who on the shortest provocation pour forth their dulcet conversation at the rate of five hundred words per minute. Certainly their voices are the most unmusical in creation; yet so long as they are silent, they are by no means unattractive; in fact the majority are decidedly graceful, as they move to and fro about their household work, or group themselves by the river or the well, bearing on their heads large two-handed water jars, of classic form. Their stately erect figures seem draped, rather than dressed, in their loose * Nautilus Mammilla or Lenticularis. flowing robe of coarse, dark-blue material, which falls in careless folds, pleasant to the eye, as they walk along with light, swift step. Though we did not venture into the chicken's cradle, we heard all about the process of artificial incubation. The nursery is a miserable mud building, consisting of two chambers of varied heat; the inner one is kept at about ninety degrees. The roof is perforated for ventilation. The eggs are placed in recesses all round the room, and from five to six hundred interesting young orphan chicks, may be seen here, sitting huddled together, lamenting the maternal wing with plaintive chirp. The eggs are heated for about three weeks before the chicks come forth. They are supplied by all the neighbouring villagers who receive in return one third of the young birds. One-third are supposed to prove failures, and the rearer receives the remainder. This mode of hatching is only successful in the spring months. It was late in the afternoon when we bade farewell to the Sphinx and the Pyramids, and the little donkeys cantered cheerily back to shabby, old Cairo, to the north of which sundry mounds of rubble and earth are pointed out as being the ruins of old Babylon; a high sounding name once born by a small fort, said by Strabo to have been built by some deserters from the great Assyrian Babylon, who fled to Egypt and settled in this place. We recrossed the noble stream, its calm, oily surface reflecting each graceful lateen sail, or feathery rustling palm; there was an intense tranquillity over earth, and sky, and river; the light air making each breath a delight, while we drank in the luxurious beauty of the glowing evening. Then back to the nineteenth century, a table d'hôte dinner among men of all nations, and then a few minutes in the soft serene twilight before entering the Khedive's pretty and luxurious opera-house, a curious contrast to the scenes of the morning. A CONVERSATION ON BOOKS. BY THE EDITOR. ENGLISH HISTORY. Spider. We have not gone on with our English history list. Arachne. And I warn you that I don't know modern history so well as medieval, and that I always feel it like wading to read about politics, so that I am not a very good guide. Spider. Never mind. How about that queer person, James I.? Arachne. Miss Aikin is very amusing as to one aspect of his reign, but I believe the soundest views both of him and of his son are to be had from Mr. Gardiner, as far as his history has yet gone. Spider. For the Church history? Arachne. Take Dr. Hook upon Bancroft, Abbot, and Laud. For bright contemporary history, dear old Fuller; as a briefer guide, Perry's Student's Church History, which I mentioned before. Walton's Lives come in here too. Arachne. Showing how a real intelligent love of the Church of England for her Catholicity had been growing up, ready to bear the Church through the storms that were coming. Spider. Here come in such a world of conflicting writers that one is utterly confused. Arachne. Clarendon was, and still is, the standard guide through the events; but it is needful to take something further removed from the period besides. Guizot's English Revolution is excellent, and very fairly impartial. And we always must distinguish between the political malcontents and the religious ones, who were by no means identical, though they made common cause. Spider. I suppose, short of rebellion, the political ones were not so very wrong. Arachne. A large-minded man, who could feel the temper of his people, would have satisfied them, and kept their loyalty. The life of Sir John Eliot best shows how heavily a grievance could fall. You see the decay of the turbulent nobility had enabled the Tudors to usurp much power, and all the neighbouring monarchies had likewise been tending to become absolute. The old feudal constitutions were looked on as obsolete hindrances to be got rid of, and Charles, being a really good man, conscious that he merely wanted to do right, thought it only for the good of his people to put down opposition. He was really infinitely less oppressive than the Tudors were, only the people would not bear as much. Spider. And Strafford thought it his duty to exalt the crown. Arachne. Exactly as Cardinal de Richelieu was doing in France, and far more conscientiously. Spider. And Laud, whom all common histories delight to call 'the meddling prelate.' Arachne. In point of fact, that is nonsense. There was a real necessity that the Church of England should be rescued from the growing irreverence of Puritanism. We owe to Laud the reverence now shown to our altars, for though his work was overthown in his lifetime, it was the men trained under him who restored the Church, as far as possible, according to his ideal. As Archbishop he had a perfect right to insist on the obedience of the clergy in his own see, and to call on the Bishops to enforce decency of worship in theirs. Spider. But was it right to put people into the pillory and cut off their ears? Arachne. My dear, nobody had his ears cut off for being a Puritan. It was the lawful punishment for libel, and Prynne incurred it by libelling the Bishops. It was, no doubt, a horrible penalty, but the old savage law had not been repealed, and those who transgressed it did so at their peril. The hardship was that when every one used such atrocious language about his adversaries, one or two should be singled out to suffer for it. Besides, it was the Star Chamber that gave the sentence, not the Archbishop. He had a seat there, but was not often present. Spider. And about the Scottish matters ? Arachne. Dr. Burton gives a clear clue to them, but with a bitter animus against Laud, and no perception that the King did not act out of meddling or tyranny, but from the assurance that the greatest mercy he could do the Scots would be to restore to them the true Church. It is really curious to see how utterly incapable so able a man as was Dr. Burton is of perceiving that the changes in the Scottish Service-book from our Prayer-book were not in the interest of Popery, but of Catholicity. If the national spirit required a difference between the books, it was well to take the opportunity of removing ambiguities, and restoring what had been omitted in King Edward's Second Book. That the Scots misunderstood the purpose was no wonder, but Burton's want of comprehension is stranger. Spider. But was it right to force it on? Arachne. No. There came in one of the errors that cost good men so dear. However, we cannot realise the notion that prevailed everywhere as well as here, that when a thing was good and right, all ought to be made to accept it. The notions of right on the opposite side were quite as strong, and as Charles attempted the thing unconstitutionally, they had full ground for resistance. It is very difficult to find the history fairly put, and I think we can only read for ourselves, and try to make up our minds. For the war itself, Warburton's Prince Rupert and the Cavaliers is charming reading, and you may have the other side in grim enthusiasm in Carlyle's Cromwell, a book which so upset the sympathies of the reading world that Cromwell has become the popular hero. Spider. And to have any feeling for King Charles is accounted a young ladyism. What do you think? Arachne. There is a sonnet of Aubrey de Vere's that greatly expresses my feeling about him— 'Perfect he was not, being but a man So lightly valued and so ill-defined, Unhappy was the Prince who ruled that house, To that great warning he bequeathed mankind.' Spider. Do you think he was false and treacherous ? Arachne. I think political morality as to truth had been so utterly overthrown by the Machiavellian system, that statesmen and kings thought falsehood an absolutely lawful weapon, and that it would have taken a man of more original power than Charles to perceive that he was bound not to make mental reservations in dealing with subjects who, to his mind, were demanding mischievous concessions. At the same time, nobody states anything fairly, and he considered himself to be often met with the same want of absolute truth and honesty, so that it is not possible to judge. Among the contemporary books giving pictures of the two sides, I should take Mrs. Hutchinson's and Lady Fanshawe's Memoirs; also Wishart's Life of Montrose and Napier's life of the same hero. Madame de Witt's Memoir of Charlotte de la Tremouille, who comes out rather a hard personage. Spider. I once peeped into Walker's Sufferings of the Clergy. How curious they are, and how interesting-we went off to state matters when we had been talking of Laud-I suppose he was right. Arachne. Most soundly right in principle and in firmness, but illjudging in manner. I believe that if he had been a gentleman of high family, with dignity of person, and conciliating manner, and a temper to take opposition easily, he would have carried the English nation with him in his changes and restorations, but there was something irritating in his way of dealing with people. As I said, Dr. Hook gives you the best modern picture of him. Spider. For Restoration literature? Arachne. As before, Lingard, Knight, Carte for State, Perry for |