and we lunched in merry mood. There were toasts to the Khedive, to Sami Bey, to the General, and the invariable toast which comes from gracious womanly lips-to friends and dear ones at home. Then Brugsch told us of Salib, an Arabian who had been for twenty years working at the excavation. He worked with so much diligence that he had become entirely blind, and it was now his only comfort to wander about the ruins, direct the workmen, and perhaps trace with his finger many a loved inscription that his zeal had brought to light. Salib lived near the ruins, on a pension allowed by the Khedive, and after luncheon we called on him and took our coffee in his house. The coffee was served on the roof, while some of us, weary with the sun, lay under the shadow of the wall and the date trees, and others sat about the courtyard, smoking, and Brugsch, who never misses his chance, improved the shining hour to copy a hieroglyphic inscription. After an hour's rest, we went back again, very much as we came. But the journey was long, the road was dusty, and when we saw the flag flying from our boat, we were, some of us at least, a weary, very weary, party. We had ridden fifteen miles on donkeys and walked two or three on the sand, and the shelter and repose of the cabin was grateful when at last it came. -THE MEMNON STATUE - THE PALACE TEMPLE OF RAMESES LUXOR ON THE WAY TO KARNAK-ITS ANTIQUITY Our imaginations, as might have been expected, had been dwelling all these days on Thebes. We read it up and talked about it, and said, "When we see Thebes, we shall see one of the wonders of the world." We learned that Thebes was once a city that covered both banks of the Nile; that it was known to Homer as the city of the Hundred Gates; that it must have had 300,000 inhabitants, and that it sent out 20,000 armed chariots. It was famed for its riches and splendor until it was besieged. There was a temple of Memnon and the colossal statue which used to sing its oracles when the sun rose. Here was to be found the palace temple of the great Rameses, the only ruin in Egypt known to have been the home of a king. we would see the columns of Luxor, the twin obelisk to the one now in Paris, the stupendous ruins of Karnak and the tombs of the kings. Thebes alone would repay us for our long journeyings; and we talked about Sesostris and the Pharaohs in a familiar manner, as though they knew we were coming, and would be at home. And when we became a little hazy on our history and could not get our kings exactly straight, and were not sure whether Sesostris was in the nineteenth or the twenty-ninth dynasty, we always fell back on Brugsch, who knew all the dynasties and was an ever-running spring of information, and always as gentle Here and willing as he was learned. By the time we approached Thebes we were well out of that stage and were well up in our Rameses, and knew all about Thebes, the mighty, the magnificent Thebes, the city of a world's renown, of which we had been reading and dreaming all these years. And as Brugsch, leaning over the rail, talked about Thebes, we listened and watched through the clear air for the first sign of its glory. There were the mountains beyond, the very mountains of which we had read, and there was the plain. But where was Thebes? We looked through our glasses and saw at first only the brown caverned hills, the parched fields and the shining sand. We looked again, and there, sure enough, were the colossal statues of Memnon, two broken pillars so they seemed, with a clump of trees near them. Only the field, the sand and the hills beyond, only the same cluster of hovels on on the shore and the two distant columns. This was all that remained of the glory of the city that was the glory of the ancient world. There was one, at least, in that small company whose imagination fell, and who could scarcely believe that so much splendor could only be this barren plain. But this is no time for moral reflections, as we are coming into the town of Luxor, one fragment of the old city, and on the shore opposite to Memnon. We are coming to the shore and we see that we have been expected. The population of Luxor is on the river bank; all the consulates have their flags flying, and the dahabeeahs, of which there are five or six, have their flags up. Right at the landing place is a neat three-storied stone building, painted white, with the American and Brazilian flags on the roof. The house is all hung with boughs of the date palm and decorated with lanterns. Over the door there are two American flags, and two soldiers are on guard. Evidently Luxor is in great excitement, for as we come to the wharf two soldiers on the roof fire six or seven shots from their muskets. This is our salute, and as soon as the plank is run ashore the Vice-Consul comes on board with the Governor and welcomes the General. Then we go ashore, and call on the Vice-Consul. We enter the house and pass over stone floors, strewn with Turkish and Persian rugs of great value. We pass into the best chamber of the house, and we hear another series of musket shots. In this best chamber the host points out a picture of the General, which he says in Arabic is one of his household gods, and that the day which brought the General under his roof will ever be a blessed day to him. We noticed also a picture of President Hayes. We sat on the divan and the coffee was brought, and after the coffee long pipes. Then, at the request of our host, we all went up to the roof of his house, where we had a fine view of the country, the country which once shone with the magnificence of Thebes, but which is now only a valley between two ranges of hills— a valley of sand and parched fields, here and there a cluster of hovels called a village, here and there a ruin almost hidden from view by the shadows of the descending sun. The town of Luxor, as it is called, is really a collection of houses that have fastened upon the ruins of the old temple. This temple is near the river, and has a fine façade. It was built by Amunoph III. and Rameses II., who reigned between thirteen and fifteen hundred years before Christ. I am not very particular about the dates, because I have learned that a century or two does not make much difference in writing about the Egyptian dynasties. In fact, the scholars themselves have not agreed upon their chronology. The only scholar in whom we have any faith is Brugsch, and when he tells us that this temple is more than three thousand years old, we believe him. It is not a very old temple, as temples go, and Brugsch shows it to us in a matter of fact way, saying, "Wait until you see Rameh." There is a fine obelisk here, the companion of the one now standing in the Place Concordia, Paris. There is a statue of Rameses, of colossal size, now broken and partly buried in the sand. The walls are covered with inscriptions of the usual character --the glory of the king, his victories, his majesty, his devotion to the gods, and the decree of the gods that his name will live for millions of years. I have no doubt much more could be seen and known of this Luxor temple but for modern vandalism. The town is simply a collection of fungi fastened on the temple. The French took one wing of pillars and put up a house when they were here in 1799. The English consulate is within the temple walls, defacing the finest part of the façade. It is a shame that a great nation like Eng land should allow her flag to float over a house whos presence is a desecration, a robbery, a violation of interna |