LETTERS FROM THE EAST.-NO, VI1.

Girgé.

THE next day we crossed to the opposite shore to visit the ruins of Kurnu. The hieroglyphics there are all of a warlike character; the columns are plain and without any ornament; the capitals perfectly simple, and bear a greater resemblance to the Doric than to any other order, and are the same as those of Karnac and Luxor. Close to Kurnu lie the fragments of an enormous statue. The bust is thirtyfive feet in length, the width of the shoulders twenty-five feet, and the whole must have been nearly eighty feet high. It consisted of one solid piece of granite. It has fallen on its face, and the features are quite obliterated; its thickness is prodigious.

About a mile and half distant are the ruins of Medinet Abou, apparently those of a temple and palace, which are entered by a small and very handsome gateway. The portico of the former conducts to a large square, round the sides of which run lofty corridors; the capitals of the pillars are highly ornamented, and the ceilings they support richly painted. The various bas-reliefs cut on it still preserve their vivid colours, which are most frequently of a light blue and red. The aspect of this ruined palace is peculiarly fresh and gay, just that of a court, as if time had in pity spared it for its elegance. Seated on the shores of the Nile, Medinet Abou must once have possessed its cool retreats, its fountains, and woods of perpetual green; but the face of Nature is perfectly desolate now, and though, after the lapse of so many centuries, it is still beautiful within, every sign of vegetation has perished without, and it is completely enveloped in a frightful waste. We proceeded along the loose sand, and wound up between the hills; the weather was very sultry. The burial-place of ancient Thebes is situated here, and innumerable graves and vaults are seen scattered over this part of the desert, even to the foot of the precipices. The mummies have been drawn from their tombs with a rapacious and unsparing hand. In this vast cemetery there were no objects such as we expect to see around the remains of the dead, but a waste of bright and scorching sand, amidst black and naked rocks. The corpses of the poor Egyptians had most of them been torn from their deep graves and strong vaults; many of the latter, to which flights of steps led, after being rifled, had their doors secured, till another visit might produce fresh discoveries; others were entirely empty and spoiled. The chief part of this havoc was committed by the Arabs, who tore the bodies open to get at the resin used in the embalming, which they sold at Cairo at a high price; but travellers and savans,and their agents, have also had their share in this sacrilege, if so it may be called. It is a sad and disgusting sight; the sands and the edges of the graves in some parts being strewed with the bones and pieces of the flesh of the mummies, thrown wantonly about. The poor Egyptians, who had slept in peace for some thousands of years, have been mercilessly dealt with here, and the remains of warriors, citizens, and sages, may now lie mingled together in the burning sun; for no retreat or sanctuary of the dead has been suffered to remain inviolate. I picked up a foot with part of the leg, that from its smallness and delicacy seemed to have belonged to an Egyptian lady. It had suffered little from time, except

being shrunk in size, for the flesh, though quite dried, still adhered to it, but it strongly retained the mummy smell. Not far from hence, in the plain below, are the two colossal statues of Memnon: each of them is cut out of a solid block of granite; they are in a sitting posture, are near sixty feet in height, and can be seen from a great distance round. The architecture is coarse; the posture easy and tranquil, with their gigantic hands placed on their knees. At this time the inundation had gathered round these enormous statues for some extent, and invaded a part of their stone chair or seat: their appearance, thus isolated, was most strange, they seemed to sit like the stern and ancient genii of the plain, over whom time and decay had no power.

The Nile for the last few days had grown narrower, and its banks more wild and rugged; the climate seemed to become more pure as we advanced; the heat at Esnéh, where we arrived on the second day, was very intense,—indeed it would have been difficult to have borne it, but for the luxury of bathing twice a day in the Nile, at sunrise and sunset. The ruin of the temple is situated in the middle of the town, and its portico, the most beautiful and best preserved in Egypt, is obscured by a mass of rubbish; it is situated near the market-place; the capitals of the pillars are mostly different from each other, and this variety, as in the portico of Etfu, has a delightful effect: they are taken from the leaves, flowers, and stems of plants and trees, as the vine, the lotus, and the palm-tree.

In the progress towards the cataracts, we observed the colour of the inhabitants of the villages become gradually darker, till at last it became quite black.

At length we reached Etfu, or Apollinopolis Magna. Its temple is a noble ruin, of vast extent, and commands a most extensive view of the river and the plains above and below; the piers of the gateway are eighty-five feet in height, and the length of the outer wall of the temple is near four hundred and twenty feet. You enter into an immense area, round which runs a lofty corridor, supported by a single row of pillars, and at the end is the portico, with three rows of columns: the capitals of the pillars, like those of the temple of Esnéh. This great and magnificent temple is in an excellent state of preservation. The villagers have built a number of wretched cottages in the courts and on the roof of the edifice; a multitude of people were at work beneath the corridors, and the noise of their operations resounded through every part of the building. The miserable huts and their squalid inhabitants haunting your sight at every avenue of this splendid ruin, sadly injured its effect. One could not help earnestly wishing that like Thebes and Tentyra, it stood in some deep and desert solitude, where the foot of man seldom approached. The next village we came to was sweetly situated in a grove of palms, and its small gardens looked very neat and inviting. Here we met with a Greek, who had wandered to a great distance, and seemed to live by his wits. He had with him a young Abyssinian girl, who had not long left her own country, purchased, no doubt, by this man for himself first probably, and afterwards for sale. She was of a dark complexion, and was seated beneath one of the trees; but was not pretty, as her country women are so often said to be.

Landing early one morning, we strolled to a Coptic village, and found the people remarkably civil. The old sheik was very importunate with

us to enter his dwelling, and partake of a repast; and the chief part of the population crowded round, among whom were a few of the prettiest women we had seen in Egypt. The very early marriages sadly impair their attractions; and, joined with exposure to the burning sun, make them look haggard at thirty. At one place there was a young girl of twelve years of age, married however, and carrying her child in her arms. Such is the force of custom, that even in the most remote situations, where no looks but those of their neighbours are likely to meet them, you see the peasant women come to the Nile for water, with their features rigidly concealed, being all, except the eyes, covered with a thick veil.

The next town we reached was Essouan, around which are scattered the ruins, uninteresting however, of the ancient town of Syené; they stand on the steep banks of the river, in some parts in the form of the ruined turrets of a castle. In the afternoon we crossed to the island of Elephantine. The vivid descriptions given by Denon of this island are a little overcharged. It is a very enchanting spot, about a mile in length, and near a quarter of a mile broad: the northern part of it is a desert in miniature, all rocks and barrenness, with the fine ruin of a small temple on its most conspicuous point: the rest is covered with gardens, cottages, and groves of palm and fruit trees even to the water's edge. One can never behold a scene of more strange and exceeding beauty than the one presented at sunset from the highest point of Elephantine. The river above was studded with a number of islets on the high shore; on the left, were the ruins of Syené; the right shore was composed of lofty hills of light yellow sand, which spread inland to a boundless extent; the black and naked ranges of mountains below Essouan were purpled with the setting sun; all seemed dreary and desolate save the one lovely spot on which we stood. A man who has never toiled through long and burning deserts can have little idea of the rapture with which a group of trees or a bright spot of verdure is hailed; or the deep luxury of feeling excited by again moving among cottages, and fountains, and cool retreats. The land of Palestine was, no doubt, beautiful and rich; but the ecstasy the Israelites felt on beholding and entering it, and the glowing language used in describing it, had their origin as much perhaps in the passage through the dreary and howling wilderness, as in the attractions of the scenes themselves.

The next morning we rode to the Isle of Philo. The way was through a perfect desert of sand and rocks; the latter piled in huge and lofty masses. About half-way was a fountain of water, covered by a lofty arch of brick from the rays of the sun. Beneath this two poor women were sitting, who offered us water in hope of a trifling reward. A few miles farther we came to the shore, opposite the Isle of Philo, and, having procured a boat, crossed over. It is a branch of the Nile, which here makes a circuit, as if on purpose to encompass this singular spot. Not half as large as Elephantine, it has no verdure except a few scattered palm-trees at the water's edge, but its rocky and romantic surface is completely covered with superb ruins. They consist of the remains of several temples: one only of which is in a good state of preservation. There are two lofty gateways, and the pillars of one of the corridors have the same capitals as those of Tentyra, the head of Isis. The family of an Arab inhabited some of the chambers of the

temple. He was very savage when he perceived our intention of penetrating into his harem, and drew his long knife, protesting he would revenge the attempt. At every step you tread on some fragment of antiquity; for this celebrated isle must once have been holy ground, and peculiarly devoted to religious retirement. No situation could be better adapted to such a purpose, encircled by a branch of the Nile, and imprisoned on every side by utter desolation. The desert spreads its wastes and mountains in front; the dark and fantastic cliffs of the adjacent isles and shores look as if rent by some convulsion, and, viewed through the long colonnades which crown the rocks even to the water's edge, the effect is quite panoramic. Then the loneliness and stillness of every thing around, only interrupted by the distant rush of the cataracts: and a climate perpetually pure, that gives even to the nights a bewitching softness and splendour. Whoever is sick of the world, and would hold communion only with Nature and past ages, let him go and take up his abode at Philo.

The boat we had hired was rowed by two boys to the adjacent isle, when one of the Berebers, who turned out to be a complete character, demanded, with an appearance of great anger, to be taken on board. His object was to share in the present usually given, and he afforded us infinite diversion. His features, like those of the rest of his countrymen, were singularly expressive and animated. An aquiline nose; eyes full of lustre; the every look of which expressed his meaning better than words; his hair was divided into thick tresses, and his frame, full of activity and muscle, had scarcely any flesh; he was quite black. His looks and gestures were a complete pantomime, and he sung a livelier boatsong than we had been used to; for the Arabs have all a monotonous chant, with which they keep time to their oars. On setting off on our return, we were surrounded by a small host, importuning for a bakshish, or present. The acting of our Bereber friend was admirable. He endeavoured to intimidate some from applying, exerted his voice the loudest, and kept his keen comic face in the foremost rank, though he had received more than any of the others.

The ride to Essouan through the desert was very pleasant, it being near sunset; and to bathe in the Nile afterwards, how exquisite a pleasure! the intense heat being past, the evening air was as balm to the feeling, cool and soft, without being chill. The next day we directed the Cangia to remain at Elephantine, the isle afforded a delightful retirement, which was indeed as a home and a shadow in a weary land. After wandering through wastes of sand and rocks, fatigued and languid, you gaze on the rich groves and unfading verdure of this isle as you would on the shore from a stormy sea. How often I have wandered amidst its shades during the burning heat of day. There was a favourite spot where a group of trees stood near the water's edge, apart from the cottages; on the opposite shore rose a lofty range of sandhills, and the channel between was broken by some fine rocks, and one little isle covered with verdure, on which stood one or two habitations; on the left were the ruins of the two island temples: --it was delightful to sit for hours here, and see the sun go down on the romantic and beautiful scenery.

The Cataracts, a few miles above Essouan, are very insignificant, the fall over a ledge of rocks, extending nearly the whole breadth of the

channel, being but a few inches in height, though the noise may be heard at some distance. This being the termination of our voyage, the next morning we went down with the current at a good rate, and soon reached Esnéh and then Luxor. At the former town there are some hundreds of Mamelukes in the service of the Pacha, to whom they are slaves, being Circassians and others purchased by him when very young. They are still for the most part men in their youth, handsomely dressed, and are commanded by Suleiman Aga, the quondam French colonel, by whom they are disciplined in the European manner. One day, being becalmed near the opposite shore on our return, we landed at the entrance of a little valley, confined by lofty precipices. Advancing up this romantic spot, we came to a small monastery, with its cemetery in the wild. The gate was closed, and, no answer being given to the repeated calls, we entered through one of the windows, and found all its apartments silent and deserted. It must have been so for some time. In the burial-ground were many tomb-stones with inscriptions, in memory of the fathers who had lived and died in this solitude, which seemed not to be intruded on by human footsteps, save some chance traveller should direct his wayward steps there. A self-denying place it was altogether for this little community of fathers, who might truly say they had nothing to do with the pleasures of the world, with more reason than most who so profess in the present day.

Returning to Thebes, we set out early in the morning on a visit to the Tombs of the Kings, and passing again near the ruins of Kurnu, sought the house of Osmin, an Arab, who keeps the keys. Having waited two hours till he arrived, he soon set before us a couple of fowls, and some cakes of bread, spread on a mat in the open air, as we had a fatiguing walk before us. The path was first across the sand, and then a continual and tedious ascent up the mountains, till it approached the place of the sepulchres. They are situated in a kind of amphitheatre formed by naked and pointed summits of the mountains: in the middle of this is a steep descent or chasm, and at its bottom are the entrances of these abodes of the dead. Descending a flight of steps, the door of the largest tomb was opened, and the passage, by a slight descent, conducted into the various chambers. The surprise and delight felt at viewing these wonderful cemeteries can hardly be expressed; there is no spectacle in the world, perhaps, like that which they afford. The chambers are fourteen in number, hewn out of the solid rock; and the walls and ceilings are covered with bas-reliefs, in the highest state of perfection, which is owing partly to their having been carefully preserved from injury and from the external air. The painting looks as fresh as if laid on but a few years ago. The figures, finely and deeply cut in the rock, are of various colours, some of a light and deep blue, yellow, or red, with a mixture of white; they are in some parts diminutive; in others, three or four feet in height. These groups of figures represent sometimes the progress of the arts or the productions of agriculture; in one part you see a long religious procession, in another a monarch sitting on his throne, dressed in his splendid attire, and giving audience to his subjects; or a spectacle of death, where a corpse is laid out on the bier attended by mourners: various animals also, as large as life, and a number of serpents, the different hues and folds of the body of which are