A most interesting event happened here, since my arrival at this city, which gave me such pleasing sensations, and is so descriptive of the vicissitudes to which the inhabitants of the east are subject, that I must relate it. Whole clouds of locusts covered the plains of Syria last year, and occasioned a famine. A countryman, in the neighbourhood of Damascus, suffered severely from this calamity: to supply his family with bread, he was daily obliged to sell some of his cattle; when this resource failed, he was reduced to the necessity of parting with his instruments of labour. The present distress was urgent, the future prospect without hope, when the hand of Providence directed his steps to purchase some corn, where the bystanders were recounting the exploits of Murad Bey. The wonderful narrative of his rise, from obscurity to his present greatness, attracted his attention: he listened with earnestness, and, on comparing the account of his origin, character, and person, he recognised in him a long-lost son, who had been stolen, at eleven years of age. A ray of hope sprung up in his breast: he hastened home to his family with the joyful tidings. He determined to set out immediately for Egypt; but no sooner had he taken this resolution, than doubts of success clouded his ardour. He feared that he should not be able to make himself known to him; and, even if his features were remembered, his poverty might prevent the conqueror from acknowledging him. Hope however prevailed, he undertook the journey, arrived at the capital, and present

ed himself at the palace of his son; but he found it very difficult to gain admittance: the attendants were disgusted at the meanness of his appearance and his haggard looks. For some time they repelled allhis solicitations with disdain; at length the consideration of his age, which is held in great reverence in Egypt, had so much influence with one of his officers, that he consented to make his application known to Murad Bey. Accordingly he informed him, that a wretched old man entreated, with great earnestness, to be admitted to his presence. “Let him enter," says the bey. The peasant advances with trembling steps, on the rich carpet which covered the hall of the Divan, and approaches the bey, who was reclining on a sopha embroidered with silk and gold. At first he is unable to speak, but the emotions of nature overcoming every other consideration, he falls at his feet, and exclaims, "You are my son!" An investigation of circumstances confirming his recollection, the bey acknowledges his father, and, with the most tender endearments, welcomes his arrival. He did not confine his generosity to mere professions of regard; he offered to send for his mother and his brothers, that they might share in his prósperity, provided they would embrace the religion of Mahomet; but the old man, who was a Christian, would not consent to the proposal. Finding his resolution not to be overcome, Murad Bey sent back his father with a sum of money sufficient to procure every

comfort he could desire for the present, and made au ample provision for the remainder of his days.

The comfort and security to be enjoyed at Cairo have determined me to make it my head-quarters for some time, and to make excursions from thence. My first journey will be to the pyramids, of which, at my return, I shall give you an account.

Journey to the Pyramids.

Having procured a guard to attend me, I set out for Feiûm, a city, distant about sixty miles to the south-west. We passed a grove of large date trees,

Γ

watered by cisterns supplied by the Nile, at the time of its increase. A small canal runs through Tamieh, which place is remarkable for a manufacture of mats; but the poor people who make them are far from sure of enjoying the fruit of their industry; the night before our arrival, they had been plundered by a wandering horde of their whole stock. This part of the country is intersected by canals that reach from the Nile to the lake Moris. Feiûm stands on the principal of these, and is surrounded with cultivated grounds, a great part gardens, which produce that profusion of roses, for which this place has been celebrated: these beautiful flowers are cultivated by layers, the largest and most fragrant growing upon the young twigs. The rose-water was formerly sent to all quarters, but the

cultivation is on the decline. The city contains se veral mosques and okals, or depôts for merchandise, but has no fortifications. The houses are partly stone, partly unburnt bricks. It is under the government of a cashef.

From thence I made the circuit of the lake, anciently called Moris; on the north-east, the shore rises in a ridge of rocks, but, towards Feiâm, it is flat and sandy, and is diversified with a few small islands. Several fishermen, in miserable boats, gain their subsistence on the lake; but the fish they catch are of an indifferent quality.

I proceeded in a south-eastern direction, and saw two small pyramids at Hawara. A well-cultivated plain lies between Feiûm and the Nile; returned to Bedis, and passed the pyramids of Dashur. There are five of them: that of Medun has been very ele gant: it is composed of large pieces of soft freestone: the north side has been injured by tearing out the stones, so that the interior is exposed, but it is entirely solid. The fourth is the most southerly; it is in the form of a cone, and is now much damaged. The sides of all these pyramids are directed to the four points of the compass. Near them stands one of unburnt brick, and a small one of stone, not completed. At Sakara several of these piles remain: there are ten of considerable magnitude, the smaller ones are scarcely to be distinguished from the sand bills.

I contrived to return by Gizé, where the great py

ramids stand: we approached by moonlight, and the reflection of the silvery light, with the stillness of every thing around, added to the solemnity of these venerable relics of antiquity, which had the appearance of two mighty rocks crowned by the clouds. I surveyed them with astonishment and awe, reflecting upon them as monuments of the greatness and the frailty of man. On the one hand, they display his power and ingenuity, in raising such vast masses, with strength and solidity to defy the ravages of time for ages; whilst, on the other, the very names of those who, at excessive labour and expence, erected those magnificent receptacles for their own ashes, have perished. The monuments remain, the men are forgotten.

Full of these melancholy ideas, I entered Gizé, refreshed myself with a few hours sleep, and rose early in the morning, to indulge my curiosity with a nearer view of the pyramids. We left our outer garments at the gate of the passage which leads to the interior, and descended, carrying each a flambeau in his hand : towards the bottom, we were obliged to creep on all fours, to get into the interior passage, which corresponds with the former. Towards the middle, our guides fired a pistol, which reverberated, with a tremendous noise, through the cavities of the huge edifice, and roused thousands of bats, of an enormous size, that flapped against our hands and faces, and extinguished several of our wax-lights. Having arrived at the end of the passages, we entered a great hall :