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camp of a Bedouin, and prospect of a blanket of those bright stars that were glittering above me, had not the dignity of the old Bedouin; the absence of staring among the women; the silent conduct of all the men; their respect to their father; their politeness and delicacy to me; the refreshing repast of milk and eggs and warm bread they set before me; their apology, that it was all they had; their breeding that would have adorned the table of a pacha; their quiet, restrained mirth at my failing with my fingers in getting the warm bread and eggs into my mouth without crumbling them; their fragrant Mocha coffee, and sweet perfume of their Syrian tobacco; their noble forms; their dignified and healthy frames; their tall height; their bronzed color; the tout ensemble of the scene,—so carried me away that I forgot myself. Then I had come among them pretending to be poor and without a para, though I had money secreted in my breast; pretending to be defenceless, though I had a pocket pistol; of a different religion, and yet, though late in the evening, they unhesitatingly cook me supper of their best, give me their best mat, and cover me with their best cloak, thanking God in their prayers for the opportunity to exhibit one of their sacred laws of hospitality. And when, during the whole night, after I had laid down and pretended to be asleep, I found one keeping guard all night, and renewing the fire now and then, driving the mosquitoes away from me, and doing all he could for my comfort,—I could not but feel, as I gazed up at the bright Canopus and the constellations that brighten only this clime that borders on the tropics, that God had made men to live thus; and the simple devotion of these noble Bedouins, their reverence for the patriarchs, their virtue, was as sweet an incense to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, as the noblest chant that ever echoed through Westminster Abbey, though Handel or Beethoven were leaders—as the most gorgeous display in St. Peter's—the most favorite Christmas service in Trinity. Here, as I gazed at the bright stars, I fancied myself a young Chaldean in the tent of the sons of Shem, or a Sabean of that Ethiopia which is only a step from me now. It is so sweet an oblivion of all past—of every thing but God, patriarchs, and young creation! The silent flocks are sleeping under the bright moon; the soft air is without a drop of moisture; the camels are around; the Arabs, wrapped in their burnooses, sleeping; the moon shining in the face of the old Sheikh, which, with his long, spotless, majestic beard, was turned towards me; and I, stranger from a land thousands of miles away, whose white, pale face seemed like linen among their bronzed countenances, was falling into as sweet a slumber as, when a boy, I did after closing the window from a moonlight gaze at my own native hills. I thought of another wanderer, whom I have followed through the bright jEgean, on the shores of Spain, in Italy,' through the Alps and the Rhine; and I have seen the first part of the dream:

"the gentle hill

Green, and of a mild declivity "—

at Annesley Hall, near Newstead Abbey, and now I was like him—a boy sprung to manhood:

"In the wilds of fiery climes had made himself a home,
And his soul drank their sunbeams;
* * * by his sleeping side
Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds,
And a man clad in a flowing garb, did watch the while,
While many of his tribe slumbered round;

And they were canopied by the blue sky,
So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful,
That God alone was to be seen in heaven."

Next morning I astonished the Arab by giving him all the money I had and several of my articles, gloves, handkerchief, &c. He accompanied me again to the temple, and we explored some other passages. I read several other records not copied by either Champollion, Salt, or Wilkinson. The Arabs followed me, blessing me. Two hours after we arrived at the river and nearly opposite Gheneh. I now saw my boat on the opposite side, and after shouting some time we brought it over, and I prepared myself by a warm bath, a delightful slumber, a breakfast, and was ready for the modern town of Gheneh— such a contrast to ancient, solitary Dendera. The mind can never be too clear to appreciate the transitions of ages and localities on this stream.


Gheneh and its bazaar.—Abyssinians.—Turco-English Consul.—Dr. Cuni.

"Sabean odors from the spicy shore

Of Araby the blest."


Landing at Gheneh I walked through the bazaar; a crowd of the Red Sea boatmen were there from the port of Kosseir, with which this is connected, and through which English pass to and from India, and Arabs of Arabia have kept up their intercourse with the Nile. Many Arabs, hundreds, of the Hajji pilgrims returning from and going to Mecca, here an Italian hakim, there a Jew or Greek, who had lost himself in this obscure land, and above all the numerous Abyssinian men and women (who may be seen hereabout in perfection) interested me. I was passing through a street which seemed made up of the Abyssinian Gwawazie or dancing girls, and a crowd of Turks were collected before a coffee-house, where a pretty one was dancing; I was invited by several to make the usual contribution of fifty or one hundred piastres, and see an exclusive performance, but I hurried back to my boat and started on.

Gheneh is a great place for the manufacturing of pipes, and some of the finest clay-pipes I ever saw were for sale at the rate of two for a penny. Here you may buy the perfumes and gems of rich Arabia, and many rare articles of India and the isles of the Indian Sea. Dr. Cuni, a French Consul and physician, to whom I had a letter from the author of "The Wanderer," who sojourned here on his return from the far Southeast, gave me the most oriental marks of hospitality, and nothing but Thebes would have carried me away. I could not but look with interest upon his wife and bright-eyed child, that might have adorned any saloon in Paris, far removed here from the houses of European refinement, but preserving all the cultivation of polished Parisian life. The Doctor showed me a crocodile, just killed and stuffed, which was well called by him the crocodil cnorme! for such a monster I never saw. There is an English Vice-Consul here, a Turk, but I did not see him. Taking a hasty, but most delicious Turkish bath, for which I paid the enormous sum of two piastres, and a fair wind springing up, I was on my way to Thebes. The two boats of my three English, Scotch, and Dutch friends, with whom I dined at Osiout, just now hove in sight below; and I found I had no reason to spur up Antonio, or the Arab men, for the rival spirit animated both, and they were as anxious as I was that the American colors on the Nile should excel in the race. On we sped, and I found my little boat was a famous sailer. We rounded the river here, and entered the sunny, smiling Thebaid. The boats were determined to pass me, and I had unfortunately one boatman ashore, as he had crossed from Gheneh, and passed to Aboo Girgeh, upon the west bank, to see his relatives there. I had to take him in, but it took me but a moment; as we passed a rocky point, he was ready, and jumped on board. On we went, passing Quoos, or Coos. Coos, the Apollonopolis parva, smaller city of Apollo of the Greeks, is here; and Negadeh, where was the city of Maxi

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