Then we went to see the famous obelisk presented by Mehemet Ali to
   the British Government, who have not shown a particular alacrity to
   accept this ponderous present.  The huge shaft lies on the ground,
   prostrate, and desecrated by all sorts of abominations.  Children
   were sprawling about, attracted by the dirt there.  Arabs, negroes,
   and donkey-boys were passing, quite indifferent, by the fallen
   monster of a stone--as indifferent as the British Government, who
   don't care for recording the glorious termination of their Egyptian
   campaign of 1801.  If our country takes the compliment so coolly,
   surely it would be disloyal upon our parts to be more enthusiastic.
   I wish they would offer the Trafalgar Square Pillar to the
   Egyptians; and that both of the huge ugly monsters were lying in
   the dirt there side by side.
   Pompey's Pillar is by no means so big as the Charing Cross trophy.
   This venerable column has not escaped ill-treatment either.
   Numberless ships' companies, travelling cockneys, &c., have affixed
   their rude marks upon it.  Some daring ruffian even painted the
   name of "Warren's blacking" upon it, effacing other inscriptions,--
   one, Wilkinson says, of "the second Psammetichus."  I regret
   deeply, my dear friend, that I cannot give you this document
   respecting a lamented monarch, in whose history I know you take
   such an interest.
   The best sight I saw in Alexandria was a negro holiday; which was
   celebrated outside of the town by a sort of negro village of huts,
   swarming with old, lean, fat, ugly, infantine, happy faces, that
   nature had smeared with a preparation even more black and durable
   than that with which Psammetichus's base has been polished.  Every
   one of these jolly faces was on the broad grin, from the dusky
   mother to the india-rubber child sprawling upon her back, and the
   venerable jetty senior whose wool was as white as that of a sheep
   in Florian's pastorals.
   To these dancers a couple of fellows were playing on a drum and a
   little banjo.  They were singing a chorus, which was not only
   singular, and perfectly marked in the rhythm, but exceeding sweet
   in the tune.  They danced in a circle; and performers came trooping
   from all quarters, who fell into the round, and began waggling
   their heads, and waving their left hands, and tossing up and down
   the little thin rods which they each carried, and all singing to
   the very best of their power.
   I saw the chief eunuch of the Grand Turk at Constantinople pass by-
   -(here is an accurate likeness of his beautiful features {2})--but
   with what a different expression!  Though he is one of the greatest
   of the great in the Turkish Empire (ranking with a Cabinet Minister
   or Lord Chamberlain here), his fine countenance was clouded with
   care, and savage with ennui.
   Here his black brethren were ragged, starving, and happy; and I
   need not tell such a fine moralist as you are, how it is the case,
   in the white as well as the black world, that happiness (republican
   leveller, who does not care a fig for the fashion) often disdains
   the turrets of kings, to pay a visit to the "tabernas pauperum."
   We went the round of the coffee-houses in the evening, both the
   polite European places of resort, where you get ices and the French
   papers, and those in the town, where Greeks, Turks, and general
   company resort, to sit upon uncomfortable chairs, and drink
   wretched muddy coffee, and to listen to two or three miserable
   musicians, who keep up a variation of howling for hours together.
   But the pretty song of the niggers had spoiled me for that
   abominable music.
   CHAPTER XV:  TO CAIRO
   We had no need of hiring the country boats which ply on the
   Mahmoodieh Canal to Atfeh, where it joins the Nile, but were
   accommodated in one of the Peninsular and Oriental Company's fly-
   boats; pretty similar to those narrow Irish canal boats in which
   the enterprising traveller has been carried from Dublin to
   Ballinasloe.  The present boat was, to be sure, tugged by a little
   steamer, so that the Egyptian canal is ahead of the Irish in so
   far:  in natural scenery, the one prospect is fully equal to the
   other; it must be confessed that there is nothing to see.  In
   truth, there was nothing but this:  you saw a muddy bank on each
   side of you, and a blue sky overhead.  A few round mud-huts and
   palm-trees were planted along the line here and there.  Sometimes
   we would see, on the water-side, a woman in a blue robe, with her
   son by her, in that tight brown costume with which Nature had
   supplied him.  Now, it was a hat dropped by one of the party into
   the water; a brown Arab plunged and disappeared incontinently after
   the hat, re-issued from the muddy water, prize in hand, and ran
   naked after the little steamer (which was by this time far ahead of
   him), his brawny limbs shining in the sun:  then we had half-cold
   fowls and bitter ale:  then we had dinner--bitter ale and cold
   fowls; with which incidents the day on the canal passed away, as
   harmlessly as if we had been in a Dutch trackschuyt.
   Towards evening we arrived at the town of Atfeh--half land, half
   houses, half palm-trees, with swarms of half-naked people crowding
   the rustic shady bazaars, and bartering their produce of fruit or
   many-coloured grain.  Here the canal came to a check, ending
   abruptly with a large lock.  A little fleet of masts and country
   ships were beyond the lock, and it led into THE NILE.
   After all, it is something to have seen these red waters.  It is
   only low green banks, mud-huts, and palm-clumps, with the sun
   setting red behind them, and the great, dull, sinuous river
   flashing here and there in the light.  But it is the Nile, the old
   Saturn of a stream--a divinity yet, though younger river-gods have
   deposed him.  Hail! O venerable father of crocodiles!  We were all
   lost in sentiments of the profoundest awe and respect; which we
   proved by tumbling down into the cabin of the Nile steamer that was
   waiting to receive us, and fighting and cheating for sleeping-
   berths.
   At dawn in the morning we were on deck; the character had not
   altered of the scenery about the river.  Vast flat stretches of
   land were on either side, recovering from the subsiding
   inundations:  near the mud villages, a country ship or two was
   roosting under the date-trees; the landscape everywhere stretching
   away level and lonely.  In the sky in the east was a long streak of
   greenish light, which widened and rose until it grew to be of an
   opal colour, then orange; then, behold, the round red disc of the
   sun rose flaming up above the horizon.  All the water blushed as he
   got up; the deck was all red; the steersman gave his helm to
   another, and prostrated himself on the deck, and bowed his head
   eastward, and praised the Maker of the sun:  it shone on his white
   turban as he was kneeling, and gilt up his bronzed face, and sent
   his blue shadow over the glowing deck.  The distances, which had
   been grey, were now clothed i 
					     					 			n purple; and the broad stream was
   illuminated.  As the sun rose higher, the morning blush faded away;
   the sky was cloudless and pale, and the river and the surrounding
   landscape were dazzlingly clear.
   Looking ahead in an hour or two, we saw the Pyramids.  Fancy my
   sensations, dear M -:  two big ones and a little one -
   ! ! !
   There they lay, rosy and solemn in the distance--those old,
   majestical, mystical, familiar edifices.  Several of us tried to be
   impressed; but breakfast supervening, a rush was made at the coffee
   and cold pies, and the sentiment of awe was lost in the scramble
   for victuals.
   Are we so blases of the world that the greatest marvels in it do
   not succeed in moving us?  Have society, Pall Mall clubs, and a
   habit of sneering, so withered up our organs of veneration that we
   can admire no more?  My sensation with regard to the Pyramids was,
   that I had seen them before:  then came a feeling of shame that the
   view of them should awaken no respect.  Then I wanted (naturally)
   to see whether my neighbours were any more enthusiastic than
   myself--Trinity College, Oxford, was busy with the cold ham:
   Downing Street was particularly attentive to a bunch of grapes:
   Figtree Court behaved with decent propriety; he is in good
   practice, and of a Conservative turn of mind, which leads him to
   respect from principle les faits accomplis:  perhaps he remembered
   that one of them was as big as Lincoln's Inn Fields.  But, the
   truth is, nobody was seriously moved . . . And why should they,
   because of an exaggeration of bricks ever so enormous?  I confess,
   for my part, that the Pyramids are very big.
   After a voyage of about thirty hours, the steamer brought up at the
   quay of Boulak, amidst a small fleet of dirty comfortless cangias,
   in which cottons and merchandise were loading and unloading, and a
   huge noise and bustle on the shore.  Numerous villas, parks, and
   country-houses had begun to decorate the Cairo bank of the stream
   ere this:  residences of the Pasha's nobles, who have had orders to
   take their pleasure here and beautify the precincts of the capital;
   tall factory chimneys also rise here; there are foundries and
   steam-engine manufactories.  These, and the pleasure-houses, stand
   as trim as soldiers on parade; contrasting with the swarming,
   slovenly, close, tumble-down, Eastern old town, that forms the
   outport of Cairo, and was built before the importation of European
   taste and discipline.
   Here we alighted upon donkeys, to the full as brisk as those of
   Alexandria, invaluable to timid riders, and equal to any weight.
   We had a Jerusalem pony race into Cairo; my animal beating all the
   rest by many lengths.  The entrance to the capital, from Boulak, is
   very pleasant and picturesque--over a fair road, and the wide-
   planted plain of the Ezbekieh; where are gardens, canals, fields,
   and avenues of trees, and where the great ones of the town come and
   take their pleasure.  We saw many barouches driving about with fat
   Pashas lolling on the cushions; stately-looking colonels and
   doctors taking their ride, followed by their orderlies or footmen;
   lines of people taking pipes and sherbet in the coffee-houses; and
   one of the pleasantest sights of all,--a fine new white building
   with HOTEL D'ORIENT written up in huge French characters, and
   which, indeed, is an establishment as large and comfortable as most
   of the best inns of the South of France.  As a hundred Christian
   people, or more, come from England and from India every fortnight,
   this inn has been built to accommodate a large proportion of them;
   and twice a month, at least, its sixty rooms are full.
   The gardens from the windows give a very pleasant and animated
   view:  the hotel-gate is besieged by crews of donkey-drivers; the
   noble stately Arab women, with tawny skins (of which a simple robe
   of floating blue cotton enables you liberally to see the colour)
   and large black eyes, come to the well hard by for water:  camels
   are perpetually arriving and setting down their loads:  the court
   is full of bustling dragomans, ayahs, and children from India; and
   poor old venerable he-nurses, with grey beards and crimson turbans,
   tending little white-faced babies that have seen the light at
   Dumdum or Futtyghur:  a copper-coloured barber, seated on his hams,
   is shaving a camel-driver at the great inn-gate.  The bells are
   ringing prodigiously; and Lieutenant Waghorn is bouncing in and out
   of the courtyard full of business.  He only left Bombay yesterday
   morning, was seen in the Red Sea on Tuesday, is engaged to dinner
   this afternoon in the Regent's Park, and (as it is about two
   minutes since I saw him in the courtyard) I make no doubt he is by
   this time at Alexandria, or at Malta, say, perhaps, at both.  Il en
   est capable.  If any man can be at two places at once (which I
   don't believe or deny) Waghorn is he.
   Six o'clock bell rings.  Sixty people sit down to a quasi-French
   banquet:  thirty Indian officers in moustaches and jackets; ten
   civilians in ditto and spectacles; ten pale-faced ladies with
   ringlets, to whom all pay prodigious attention.  All the pale
   ladies drink pale ale, which, perhaps, accounts for it; in fact the
   Bombay and Suez passengers have just arrived, and hence this
   crowding and bustling, and display of military jackets and
   moustaches, and ringlets and beauty.  The windows are open, and a
   rush of mosquitoes from the Ezbekieh waters, attracted by the wax
   candles, adds greatly to the excitement of the scene.  There was a
   little tough old Major, who persisted in flinging open the windows,
   to admit these volatile creatures, with a noble disregard to their
   sting--and the pale ringlets did not seem to heed them either,
   though the delicate shoulders of some of them were bare.
   All the meat, ragouts, fricandeaux, and roasts, which are served
   round at dinner, seem to me to be of the same meat:  a black
   uncertain sort of viand do these "fleshpots of Egypt" contain.  But
   what the meat is no one knew:  is it the donkey?  The animal is
   more plentiful than any other in Cairo.
   After dinner, the ladies retiring, some of us take a mixture of hot
   water, sugar, and pale French brandy, which is said to be
   deleterious, but is by no means unpalatable.  One of the Indians
   offers a bundle of Bengal cheroots; and we make acquaintance with
   those honest bearded white-jacketed Majors and military Commanders,
   finding England here in a French hotel kept by an Italian, at the
   city of Grand Cairo, in Africa.
   On retiring to bed you take a towel with you into the sacred
   interior, behind the mosquito curtains.  Then your duty is, having
   tucked the curtains closely around, to flap and bang violently with
   this towel, right and left, and backwards and forwards, until every
   mosquito should have been massacred that may have taken refuge
   within your muslin canopy.
   Do what you will, however, one of them always escapes the murder;
   and as soon as the candle is out the  
					     					 			miscreant begins his infernal
   droning and trumpeting; descends playfully upon your nose and face,
   and so lightly that you don't know that he touches you.  But that
   for a week afterwards you bear about marks of his ferocity, you
   might take the invisible little being to be a creature of fancy--a
   mere singing in your ears.
   This, as an account of Cairo, dear M-, you will probably be
   disposed to consider as incomplete:  the fact is, I have seen
   nothing else as yet.  I have peered into no harems.  The magicians,
   proved to be humbugs, have been bastinadoed out of town.  The
   dancing-girls, those lovely Alme, of whom I had hoped to be able to
   give a glowing and elegant, though strictly moral, description,
   have been whipped into Upper Egypt, and as you are saying in your
   mind-- Well, it ISN'T a good description of Cairo:  you are
   perfectly right.  It is England in Egypt.  I like to see her there
   with her pluck, enterprise, manliness, bitter ale, and Harvey
   Sauce.  Wherever they come they stay and prosper.  From the summit
   of yonder Pyramids forty centuries may look down on them if they
   are minded; and I say, those venerable daughters of time ought to
   be better pleased by the examination, than by regarding the French
   bayonets and General Bonaparte, Member of the Institute, fifty
   years ago, running about with sabre and pigtail.  Wonders he did,
   to be sure, and then ran away, leaving Kleber, to be murdered, in
   the lurch--a few hundred yards from the spot where these
   disquisitions are written.  But what are his wonders compared to
   Waghorn?  Nap massacred the Mamelukes at the Pyramids:  Wag has
   conquered the Pyramids themselves; dragged the unwieldy structures
   a month nearer England than they were, and brought the country
   along with them.  All the trophies and captives that ever were
   brought to Roman triumph were not so enormous and wonderful as
   this.  All the heads that Napoleon ever caused to be struck off (as
   George Cruikshank says) would not elevate him a monument as big.
   Be ours the trophies of peace!  O my country!  O Waghorn!  Hae tibi
   erunt artes.  When I go to the Pyramids I will sacrifice in your
   name, and pour out libations of bitter ale and Harvey Sauce in your
   honour.
   One of the noblest views in the world is to be seen from the
   citadel, which we ascended to-day.  You see the city stretching
   beneath it, with a thousand minarets and mosques,--the great river
   curling through the green plains, studded with innumerable
   villages.  The Pyramids are beyond, brilliantly distinct; and the
   lines and fortifications of the height, and the arsenal lying
   below.  Gazing down, the guide does not fail to point out the
   famous Mameluke leap, by which one of the corps escaped death, at
   the time that His Highness the Pasha arranged the general massacre
   of the body.
   The venerable Patriarch's harem is close by, where he received,
   with much distinction, some of the members of our party.  We were
   allowed to pass very close to the sacred precincts, and saw a
   comfortable white European building, approached by flights of
   steps, and flanked by pretty gardens.  Police and law-courts were
   here also, as I understood; but it was not the time of the Egyptian
   assizes.  It would have been pleasant, otherwise, to see the Chief
   Cadi in his hall of justice; and painful, though instructive, to
   behold the immediate application of the bastinado.
   The great lion of the place is a new mosque which Mehemet Ali is
   constructing very leisurely.  It is built of alabaster of a fair
   white, with a delicate blushing tinge; but the ornaments are
   European--the noble, fantastic, beautiful Oriental art is
   forgotten.  The old mosques of the city, of which I entered two,
   and looked at many, are a thousand times more beautiful.  Their
   variety of ornament is astonishing,--the difference in the shapes
   of the domes, the beautiful fancies and caprices in the forms of
   the minarets, which violate the rules of proportion with the most
   happy daring grace, must have struck every architect who has seen