terminated with two or three Allah illahs, and as many inshallahs, touching the man's speedy recovery. My opponent now drowned my voice. with his vociferation. The loudness of his complaint, the importance of his brow, and the vehemence of his gesticulation would have convinced a stranger the debate embraced a consideration of some thousands of piastres; whereas, in point of fact, the question was one of five and twenty.

I enjoyed the scene: the arbitrators at last decided I was to pay fifteen, and a present to them, for the trouble of giving judgment, of some soap (a valuable article in Upper Egypt) and half an ake of green tobacco. I consented, with a good grace, to the terms; and considering the price of blood among the Arabs, I was very well satisfied to get so well off.

I now had to shake hands with all the arbitrators, and about twenty times over with him I shot; kissing our hands as often as they came in contact, and repeating, "Salamaat kitir, aleikum salaam, thaib delwakti dum malesh;" in English, " I salute you very much, peace be upon us, all's well now, no matter for the blood." I took two of the

shot out of his shoulder, with a penknife, the other could do him no injury.

At length we had a distant view of the glorious monuments of Thebes. The most splendid vestiges of antiquity existing on the earth became gradually more perceptible; and, at length, we were safely moored in Gourna, after a tedious voyage. Fear not that I am going to inflict a catalogue of antiquities on your patience. Momus has no temple here: the site of the ancient city is marked by melancholy for her own; and the name of Charles Mathews is fatal to sadness.

If ever the mercury, in your mental barometer,

sink to the gloomy point of " rain,"

rain," you may you may then have leisure to bestow an hour of your dulness on

your old friend,

R. R. M.

DEAR SIR,

LETTER XXVIII.

TO DR. RICHARDSON.

Thebes, Aug. 29, 1826.

On the base of one of the colossal statues which bears the name of Memnon, and which is covered with the inscriptions of ancient Greeks, in attestation of the statue's salutation of the sun,-among the names of the many enlightened travellers of ancient and modern times, who have recorded on that monument their visit to the most celebrated city of all antiquity, I had the pleasure of reading your name, and that of Mr. Salt. In other places I found the names of Bruce, Burckhardt, Belzoni, and many other far-famed individuals; some of them written with a pencil, others scratched with the point of a knife; many, after half a century, are as legible as ever; lightly as they were traced,

their characters are uneffaced: but the hands which formed them have long since forgotten their cunning..

One of these inscriptions was written with a light heart-the fingers which penned it knew not age; the heart which suggested it had then known no sorrow; but subsequently they became well acquainted with both; and the recollections this inscription awake, inspired me with the most melancholy feelings. How little does it now matter to Bruce where the Nile has its source! of what importance is it to Burckhardt what the pilgrims do at Mecca? of what avail to Belzoni is the discovery of the Theban tomb? glory peradventure gilds their graves; but calumny has been the living recompense of one; fanaticism has embittered the dying moments of another; and poverty has been the portion of the widow of the last. The learned of all Europe have reaped the fruits of Belzoni's enterprise; in the advancement of science, he encountered death itself: the aperture of the temple of Ebsambul, of the royal tomb at Thebes, of the pyramid of Cephrenes, are the themes of the scientific; but the widow of the man who accom

plished all those wonders is left to pine in indigence in a foreign country, threatened with a prison, if she face her own.

Had I visited Thebes for no other purpose than to measure monuments and design ruins, I might, perhaps, give you the proportions of each propylon, and the dimensions of every plynth and pillar. But I believe you would little thank me for my pains. Like me, you must have felt how the mind is overwhelmed with the contemplation of the gigantic ruins which are encountered at every step; how the spirit seems to soar above the level of its earthly shrine; and when it descends from the sanctuary of gods and heroes, how paltry are the details of the mere artist, to whom the revolutions of empires and of religions are of less consequence than the accuracy of a sketch, or the exact size of a shattered column. You must have often marked the effect of material immensity on the mind; how vision wanders in a species of delirium over the magnificence of Carnac, which all at once it cannot comprehend; and how the sense aches with delight while one vast wonder succeeds another; and the retina, like the sensorium, becomes crowded with images,