THE
LAND OF EGYPT.In
shape Egypt is like a lily with a crooked stem. A broad blossom
terminates it at its upper end; a button of a bud projects from the
stalk a little below the blossom, on the left-hand side. The broad
blossom is the Delta, extending from Aboosir to Tineh, a direct
distance of a hundred and eighty miles, which the projection of the
coast—the graceful swell of the petals—enlarges to two hundred
and thirty. The bud is the Fayoum, a natural depression in the
hills
that shut in the Nile valley on the west, which has been rendered
cultivable for many thousands of years by the introduction into it
of
the Nile water, through a canal known as the "Bahr Yousouf."
The long stalk of the lily is the Nile valley itself, which is a
ravine scooped in the rocky soil for seven hundred miles from the
First Cataract to the apex of the Delta, sometimes not more than a
mile broad, never more than eight or ten miles. No other country in
the world is so strangely shaped, so long compared to its width, so
straggling, so hard to govern from a single centre.At
the first glance, the country seems to divide itself into two
strongly contrasted regions; and this was the original impression
which it made upon its inhabitants. The natives from a very early
time designated their land as "the two lands," and
represented it by a hieroglyph in which the form used to express
"land" was doubled. The kings were called "chiefs of
the Two Lands," and wore two crowns, as being kings of two
countries. The Hebrews caught up the idea, and though they
sometimes
called Egypt "Mazor" in the singular number, preferred
commonly to designate it by the dual form "Mizraim," which
means "the two Mazors." These "two Mazors," "two
Egypts," or "two lands," were, of course, the blossom
and the stalk, the broad tract upon the Mediterranean known as
"Lower
Egypt," or "the Delta," and the long narrow valley
that lies, like a green snake, to the south, which bears the name
of
"Upper Egypt," or "the Said." Nothing is more
striking than the contrast between these two regions. Entering
Egypt
from the Mediterranean, or from Asia by the caravan route, the
traveller sees stretching before him an apparently boundless plain,
wholly unbroken by natural elevations, generally green with crops
or
with marshy plants, and canopied by a cloudless sky, which rests
everywhere on a distant flat horizon. An absolute monotony
surrounds
him. No alternation of plain and highland, meadow and forest, no
slopes of hills, or hanging woods, or dells, or gorges, or
cascades,
or rushing streams, or babbling rills, meet his gaze on any side;
look which way he will, all is sameness, one vast smooth expanse of
rich alluvial soil, varying only in being cultivated or else
allowed
to lie waste. Turning his back with something of weariness on the
dull uniformity of this featureless plain, the wayfarer proceeds
southwards, and enters, at the distance of a hundred miles from the
coast, on an entirely new scene. Instead of an illimitable prospect
meeting him on every side, he finds himself in a comparatively
narrow
vale, up and down which the eye still commands an extensive view,
but
where the prospect on either side is blocked at the distance of a
few
miles by rocky ranges of hills, white or yellow or tawny, sometimes
drawing so near as to threaten an obstruction of the river course,
sometimes receding so far as to leave some miles of cultivable soil
on either side of the stream. The rocky ranges, as he approaches
them, have a stern and forbidding aspect. They rise for the most
part, abruptly in bare grandeur; on their craggy sides grows
neither
moss nor heather; no trees clothe their steep heights. They seem
intended, like the mountains that enclosed the abode of Rasselas,
to
keep in the inhabitants of the vale within their narrow limits, and
bar them out from any commerce or acquaintance with the regions
beyond.Such
is the twofold division of the country which impresses the observer
strongly at the first. On a longer sojourn and a more intimate
familiarity, the twofold division gives place to one which is
threefold. The lower differs from the upper valley, it is a sort of
debatable region, half plain, half vale; the cultivable surface
spreads itself out more widely, the enclosing hills recede into the
distance; above all, to the middle tract belongs the open space of
the Fayoum nearly fifty miles across in its greatest diameter, and
containing an area of four hundred square miles. Hence, with some
of
the occupants of Egypt a triple division has been preferred to a
twofold one, the Greeks interposing the "Heptanomis"
between the Thebais and the Delta, and the Arabs the "Vostani"
between the Said and the Bahari, or "country of the sea."It
may be objected to this description, that the Egypt which it
presents
to the reader is not the Egypt of the maps. Undoubtedly it is not.
The maps give the name of Egypt to a broad rectangular space which
they mark out in the north-eastern corner of Africa, bounded on two
sides by the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, and on the two others
by
two imaginary lines which the map-makers kindly draw for us across
the sands of the desert. But "this Egypt," as has been well
observed, "is a fiction of the geographers, as untrue to fact as
the island Atlantis of Greek legend, or the Lyonnesse of mediæval
romance, both sunk beneath the ocean to explain their
disappearance.
The true Egypt of the old monuments, of the Hebrews, of the Greeks
and Romans, of the Arabs, and of its own people in this day, is a
mere fraction of this vast area of the maps, nothing more than the
valley and plain watered by the Nile, for nearly seven hundred
miles
by the river's course from the Mediterranean southwards."[1]
The great wastes on either side of the Nile valley are in no sense
Egypt, neither the undulating sandy desert to the west, nor the
rocky
and gravelly highland to the east, which rises in terrace after
terrace to a height, in some places, of six thousand feet. Both are
sparsely inhabited, and by tribes of a different race from the
Egyptian—tribes whose allegiance to the rulers of Egypt is in the
best times nominal, and who for the most part spurn the very idea
of
submission to authority.If,
then, the true Egypt be the tract that we have described—the Nile
valley, with the Fayoum and the Delta—the lily stalk, the bud, and
the blossom—we can well understand how it came to be said of old,
that "Egypt was the gift of the river." Not that the lively
Greek, who first used the expression, divined exactly the
scientific
truth of the matter. The fancy of Herodotus saw Africa,
originally,
doubly severed from
Asia by two parallel
fjords, one running
inland northwards from the Indian Ocean, as the Red Sea does to
this
day, and the other penetrating inland southwards from the
Mediterranean to an equal or greater distance! The Nile, he said,
pouring itself into this latter
fjord, had by
degrees filled it up, and had then gone on and by further deposits
turned into land a large piece of the "sea of the Greeks,"
as was evident from the projection of the shore of the Delta beyond
the general coast-line of Africa eastward and westward; and, he
added, "I am convinced, for my own part, that if the Nile should
please to divert his waters from their present bed into the Red
Sea,
he would fill it up and turn it into dry land in the space of
twenty
thousand years, or maybe in half that time—for he is a mighty river
and a most energetic one." Here, in this last expression, he is
thoroughly right, though the method of the Nile's energy has been
other than he supposed. The Nile, working from its immense
reservoirs
in the equatorial regions, has gradually scooped itself out a deep
bed in the sand and rock of the desert, which must have originally
extended across the whole of northern Africa from the Atlantic to
the
Red Sea. Having scooped itself out this bed to a depth, in places,
of
three hundred feet from the desert level, it has then proceeded
partially to fill it up with its own deposits. Occupying, when it
is
at its height, the entire bed, and presenting at that time the
appearance of a vast lake, or succession of lakes, it deposes every
day a portion of sediment over the whole space which it covers:
then,
contracting gradually, it leaves at the base of the hills, on both
sides, or at any rate on one, a strip of land fresh dressed with
mud,
which gets wider daily as the waters still recede, until yards grow
into furlongs, and furlongs into miles, and at last the shrunk
stream
is content with a narrow channel a few hundred yards in width, and
leaves the rest of its bed to the embraces of sun and air, and, if
he
so wills, to the industry of man. The land thus left exposed is
Egypt—Egypt is the temporarily uncovered bed of the Nile, which it
reclaims and recovers during a portion of each year, when Egypt
disappears from view, save where human labour has by mounds and
embankments formed artificial islands that raise their heads above
the waste of waters, for the most part crowned with
buildings.There
is one exception to this broad and sweeping statement. The Fayoum
is
no part of the natural bed of the Nile, and has not been scooped
out
by its energy. It is a natural depression in the western desert,
separated off from the Nile valley by a range of limestone hills
from
two hundred to five hundred feet in height, and, apart from the
activity of man, would have been arid, treeless, and waterless.
Still, it derives from the Nile all its value, all its richness,
all
its fertility. Human energy at some remote period introduced into
the
depressed tract through an artificial channel from the Nile, cut in
some places through the rock, the life-giving fluid; and this
fluid,
bearing the precious Nile sediment, has sufficed to spread
fertility
over the entire region, and to make the desert blossom like a
garden.The
Egyptians were not unaware of the source of their blessings. From a
remote date they speculated on their mysterious river. They deified
it under the name of Hapi, "the Hidden," they declared that
"his abode was not known;" that he was an inscrutable god,
that none could tell his origin: they acknowledged him as the giver
of all good things, and especially of the fruits of the earth. They
said—"Hail
to thee, O Nile!Thou
showest thyself in this land,Coming
in peace, giving life to Egypt;O
Ammon, thou leadest night unto day,A
leading that rejoices the heart!Overflowing
the gardens created by Ra;Giving
life to all animals;Watering
the land without ceasing:The
way of heaven descending:Lover
of food, bestower of corn,Giving
life to every home, O Phthah!...O
inundation of Nile, offerings are made to thee;Oxen
are slain to thee;Great
festivals are kept for thee;Fowls
are sacrificed to thee;Beasts
of the field are caught for thee;Pure
flames are offered to thee;Offerings
are made to every god,As
they are made unto Nile.Incense
ascends unto heaven,Oxen,
bulls, fowls are burnt!Nile
makes for himself chasms in the Thebaid;Unknown
is his name in heaven,He
doth not manifest his forms!Vain
are all representations!Mortals
extol him, and the cycle of gods!Awe
is felt by the terrible ones;His
son is made Lord of all,To
enlighten all Egypt.Shine
forth, shine forth, O Nile! shine forth!Giving
life to men by his omen:Giving
life to his oxen by the pastures!Shine
forth in glory, O Nile!"[2]Though
thus useful, beneficent, and indeed essential to the existence of
Egypt, the Nile can scarcely be said to add much to the variety of
the landscape or to the beauty of the scenery. It is something, no
doubt, to have the sight of water in a land where the sun beats
down
all day long with unremitting force till the earth is like a
furnace
of iron beneath a sky of molten brass. But the Nile is never clear.
During the inundation it is deeply stained with the red
argillaceous
soil brought down from the Abyssinian highlands. At other seasons
it
is always more or less tinged with the vegetable matter which it
absorbs on its passage from Lake Victoria to Khartoum; and this
vegetable matter, combined with Its depth and volume, gives it a
dull
deep hue, which prevents it from having the attractiveness of purer
and more translucent streams. The Greek name, Neilos, and the
Hebrew,
Sichor, are thought to embody this attribute of the mighty river,
and
to mean "dark blue" or "blue-black," terms
sufficiently expressive of the stream's ordinary colour. Moreover,
the Nile is too wide to be picturesque. It is seldom less than a
mile
broad from the point where it enters Egypt, and running generally
between flat shores it scarcely reflects anything, unless it be the
grey-blue sky overhead, or the sails of a passing pleasure
boat.The
size of Egypt, within the limits which have been here assigned to
it,
is about eleven thousand four hundred square miles, or less than
that
of any European State, except Belgium, Saxony, and Servia.
Magnitude
is, however, but an insignificant element in the greatness of
States—witness Athens, Sparta, Rhodes, Genoa, Florence, Venice.
Egypt is the richest and most productive land in the whole world.
In
its most flourishing age we are told that it contained twenty
thousand cities. It deserved to be called, more (probably) than
even
Belgium, "one great town." But its area was undoubtedly
small. Still, as little men have often taken the highest rank among
warriors, so little States have filled a most important place in
the
world's history. Palestine was about the size of Wales; the entire
Peloponnese was no larger than New Hampshire; Attica had nearly the
same area as Cornwall. Thus the case of Egypt does not stand by
itself, but is merely one out of many exceptions to what may
perhaps
be called the general rule.If
stinted for space, Egypt was happy in her soil and in her
situation.
The rich alluvium, continually growing deeper and deeper, and
top-dressed each year by nature's bountiful hand, was of an
inexhaustible fertility, and bore readily year after year a
threefold
harvest—first a grain crop, and then two crops of grasses or
esculent vegetables. The wheat sown returned a hundredfold to the
husbandman, and was gathered at harvest-time in prodigal
abundance—"as the sand of the sea, very much,"—till men
"left numbering" (Gen. xli. 49). Flax and doora were
largely cultivated, and enormous quantities were produced of the
most
nutritive vegetables, such as lentils, garlic, leeks, onions,
endive,
radishes, melons, cucumbers, lettuces, and the like, which formed a
most important element in the food of the people. The vine was also
grown in many places, as along the flanks of the hills between
Thebes
and Memphis, in the basin of the Fayoum, at Anthylla in the
Mareotis
at Sebennytus (now Semnood), and at Plisthiné, on the shore of the
Mediterranean. The date-palm, springing naturally from the soil in
clumps, or groves, or planted in avenues, everywhere offered its
golden clusters to the wayfarer, dropping its fruit into his lap.
Wheat, however, was throughout antiquity the chief product of
Egypt,
which was reckoned the granary of the world, the refuge and
resource
of all the neighbouring nations in time of dearth, and on which in
the later republican, and in the imperial times, Rome almost wholly
depended for her sustenance.If
the soil was thus all that could be wished, still more advantageous
was the situation. Egypt was the only nation of the ancient world
which had ready access to two seas, the Northern Sea, or "Sea of
the Greeks," and the Eastern Sea, or "Sea of the Arabians
and the Indians." Phœnicia might carry her traffic by the
painful travel of caravans across fifteen degrees of desert from
her
cities on the Levantine coast to the inner recess of the Persian
Gulf, and thus get a share in the trade of the East at a vast
expenditure of time and trouble. Assyria and Babylonia might for a
time, when at the height of their dominion, obtain a temporary hold
on lands which were not their own, and boast that they stretched
from
the "sea of the rising" to "that of the setting
sun"—from the Persian Gulf to the Mediterranean; but Egypt, at
all times and under all circumstances, commands by her geographic
position an access both to the Mediterranean and to the Indian
Ocean
by way of the Red Sea, whereof nothing can deprive her. Suez must
always be hers, for the Isthmus is her natural boundary, and her
water-system has been connected with the head of the Arabian Gulf
for
more than three thousand years; and, in the absence of any strong
State in Arabia or Abyssinia, the entire western coast of the Red
Sea
falls naturally under her influence with its important roadsteads
and
harbours. Thus Egypt had two great outlets for her productions, and
two great inlets by which she received the productions of other
countries. Her ships could issue from the Nilotic ports and trade
with Phœnicia, or Carthage, or Italy, or Greece, exchanging her
corn
and wine and glass and furniture and works in metallurgy for
Etruscan
vases, or Grecian statues, or purple Tynan robes, or tin brought by
Carthaginian merchantmen from the Scilly islands and from Cornwall;
or they could start from Heroopolis, or Myos Hormus, or some port
further to the southward, and pass by way of the Red Sea to the
spice-region of "Araby the Blest," or to the Abyssinian
timber-region, or to the shores of Zanzibar and Mozambique, or
round
Arabia to Teredon on the Persian Gulf, or possibly to Ceylon or
India. The products of the distant east, even of "far Cathay,"
certainly flowed into the land, for they have been dug out of the
ancient tombs; but whether they were obtained by direct or by
indirect commerce must be admitted to be doubtful.The
possession of the Nile was of extraordinary advantage to Egypt, not
merely as the source of fertility, but as a means of rapid
communication. One of the greatest impediments to progress and
civilization which Nature offers to man in regions which he has not
yet subdued to his will, is the difficulty of locomotion and of
transport. Mountains, forests, torrents, marshes, jungles, are the
curses of "new countries," forming, until they have been
cut through, bridged over, or tunnelled under, insurmountable
barriers, hindering commerce and causing hatreds through isolation.
Egypt had from the first a broad road driven through it from end to
end—a road seven hundred miles long, and seldom much less than a
mile wide—which allowed of ready and rapid communication between
the remotest parts of the kingdom. Rivers, indeed, are of no use as
arteries of commerce or vehicles for locomotion until men have
invented ships or boats, or at least rafts, to descend and ascend
them; but the Egyptians were acquainted with the use of boats and
rafts from a very remote period, and took to the water like a brood
of ducks or a parcel of South Sea Islanders. Thirty-two centuries
ago
an Egyptian king built a temple on the confines of the
Mediterranean
entirely of stone which he floated down the Nile for six hundred
and
fifty miles from the quarries of Assouan (Syêné); and the passage
up the river is for a considerable portion of the year as easy as
the
passage down. Northerly winds—the famous "Etesian
gales"—prevail in Egypt during the whole of the summer and
autumn, and by hoisting a sail it is almost always possible to
ascend
the stream at a good pace. If the sail be dropped, the current will
at all times take a vessel down-stream; and thus boats, and even
vessels of a large size, pass up and down the water-way with equal
facility.Egypt
is at all seasons a strange country, but presents the most
astonishing appearance at the period of the inundation. At that
time
not only is the lengthy valley from Assouan to Cairo laid under
water, but the Delta itself becomes one vast lake, interspersed
with
islands, which stud its surface here and there at intervals, and
which reminded Herodotus of "the islands of the Ægean."
The elevations, which are the work of man, are crowned for the most
part with the white walls of towns and villages sparkling in the
sunlight, and sometimes glassed in the flood beneath them. The
palms
and sycamores stand up out of the expanse of waters shortened by
some
five or six feet of their height. Everywhere, when the inundation
begins, the inhabitants are seen hurrying their cattle to the
shelter
provided in the villages, and, if the rise of the water is more
rapid
than usual, numbers rescue their beasts with difficulty, causing
them
to wade or swim, or even saving them by means of boats. An
excessive
inundation brings not only animal, but human life into peril,
endangering the villages themselves, which may be submerged and
swept
away if the water rises above a certain height. A deficient
inundation, on the other hand, brings no immediate danger, but by
limiting production may create a dearth that causes incalculable
suffering.Nature's
operations are, however, so uniform that these calamities rarely
arise. Egypt rejoices, more than almost any other country, in an
equable climate, an equable temperature, and an equable
productiveness. The summers, no doubt, are hot, especially in the
south, and an occasional sirocco produces intense discomfort while
it
lasts. But the cool Etesian wind, blowing from the north through
nearly all the summer-time, tempers the ardour of the sun's rays
even
in the hottest season of the year; and during the remaining months,
from October to April, the climate is simply delightful. Egypt has
been said to have but two seasons, spring and summer. Spring reigns
from October into May—crops spring up, flowers bloom, soft zephyrs
fan the cheek, when it is mid-winter in Europe; by February the
fruit-trees are in full blossom; the crops begin to ripen in March,
and are reaped by the end of April; snow and frost are wholly
unknown
at any time; storm, fog, and even rain are rare. A bright, lucid
atmosphere rests upon the entire scene. There is no moisture in the
air, no cloud in the sky; no mist veils the distance. One day
follows
another, each the counterpart of the preceding; until at length
spring retires to make room for summer, and a fiercer light, a
hotter
sun, a longer day, show that the most enjoyable part of the year is
gone by.The
geology of Egypt is simple. The entire flat country is alluvial.
The
hills on either side are, in the north, limestone, in the central
region sandstone, and in the south granite and syenite. The
granitic
formation begins between the twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth
parallels, but occasional masses of primitive rock are intruded
into
the secondary regions, and these extend northward as far as lat.
27°10'. Above the rocks are, in many places, deposits of gravel and
sand, the former hard, the latter loose and shifting. A portion of
the eastern desert is metalliferous. Gold is found even at the
present day in small quantities, and seems anciently to have been
more abundant. Copper, iron, and lead have been also met with in
modern times, and one iron mine shows signs of having been
anciently
worked. Emeralds abound in the region about Mount Zabara, and the
eastern desert further yields jaspers, carnelians, breccia verde,
agates, chalcedonies, and rock-crystal.The
flora of the country is not particularly interesting. Dom and date
palms are the principal trees, the latter having a single tapering
stem, the former dividing into branches. The sycamore (Ficus
sycamorus) is also
tolerably common, as are several species of acacia. The acacia
seyal,
which furnishes the gum arable of commerce, is "a gnarled and
thorny tree, somewhat like a solitary hawthorn in its habit and
manner of growth, but much larger." Its height, when full grown,
is from fifteen to twenty feet. The
persea, a sacred
plant among the ancient Egyptians, is a bushy tree or shrub, which
attains the height of eighteen or twenty feet under favourable
circumstances, and bears a fruit resembling a date, with a subacid
flavour. The bark is whitish, the branches gracefully curved, the
foliage of an ashy grey, more especially on its under surface.
Specially characteristic of Egypt, though not altogether peculiar
to
it, were the papyrus and the lotus—the
Cyperus papyrus and
Nymphæa lotus of
botanists. The papyrus was a tall smooth reed, with a large
triangular stalk containing a delicate pith, out of which the
Egyptians manufactured their paper. The fabric was excellent, as is
shown by its continuance to the present day, and by the fact that
the
Greeks and Romans, after long trial, preferred it to parchment. The
lotus was a large white water-lily of exquisite beauty. Kings
offered
it to the gods; guests wore it at banquets; architectural forms
were
modelled upon it; it was employed in the ornamentation of thrones.
Whether its root had the effect on men ascribed to it by Homer may
be
doubted; but no one ever saw it without recognizing it instantly as
"a thing of beauty," and therefore as "a joy for
ever."
DOM
AND DATE PALMS.
Nor
can Egypt have afforded in ancient times any very exciting
amusement
to sportsmen. At the present day gazelles are chased with hawk and
hound during the dry season on the broad expanse of the Delta; but
anciently the thick population scared off the whole antelope tribe,
which was only to be found in the desert region beyond the limits
of
the alluvium. Nor can Egypt, in the proper sense of the word, have
ever been the home of red-deer, roes, or fallow-deer, of lions,
bears, hyænas, lynxes, or rabbits. Animals of these classes may
occasionally have appeared in the alluvial plain, but they would
only
be rare visitants driven by hunger from their true habitat in the
Libyan or the Arabian uplands. The crocodile, however, and the
hippopotamus were actually hunted by the ancient Egyptians; and
they
further indulged their love of sport in the pursuits of fowling and
fishing. All kinds of waterfowl are at all seasons abundant in the
Nile waters, and especially frequent the pools left by the retiring
river—pelicans, geese, ducks, ibises, cranes, storks, herons,
dotterels, kingfishers, and sea-swallows. Quails also arrive in
great
numbers in the month of March, though there are no pheasants,
snipe,
wood-cocks, nor partridges. Fish are very plentiful in the Nile and
the canals derived from it; but there are not many kinds which
afford
much sport to the fisherman.Altogether,
Egypt is a land of tranquil monotony. The eye commonly travels
either
over a waste of waters, or over a green plain unbroken by
elevations.
The hills which inclose the Nile valley have level tops, and sides
that are bare of trees, or shrubs, or flowers, or even mosses. The
sky is generally cloudless. No fog or mist enwraps the distance in
mystery; no rainstorm sweeps across the scene; no rainbow spans the
empyrean; no shadows chase each other over the landscape. There is
an
entire absence of picturesque scenery. A single broad river,
unbroken
within the limits of Egypt even by a rapid, two flat strips of
green
plain at its side, two low lines of straight-topped hills beyond
them, and a boundless open space where the river divides itself
into
half a dozen sluggish branches before reaching the sea, constitute
Egypt, which is by nature a southern Holland—-"weary, stale,
flat and unprofitable." The monotony is relieved, however, in
two ways, and by two causes. Nature herself does something to
relieve
it Twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, the sky and the
landscape are lit up by hues so bright yet so delicate, that the
homely features of the prospect are at once transformed as by
magic,
and wear an aspect of exquisite beauty. At dawn long streaks of
rosy
light stretch themselves across the eastern sky, the haze above the
western horizon blushes a deep red; a ruddy light diffuses itself
around, and makes walls and towers and minarets and cupolas to glow
like fire; the long shadows thrown by each tree and building are
purple or violet. A glamour is over the scene, which seems
transfigured by an enchanter's wand; but the enchanter is Nature,
and
the wand she wields is composed of sun-rays. Again, at eve, nearly
the same effects are produced as in the morning, only with a
heightened effect; "the redness of flames" passes into "the
redness of roses"—the wavy cloud that fled in the morning
comes into sight once more—comes blushing, yet still comes on—comes
burning with blushes, and clings to the Sun-god's side.[3]Night
brings a fresh transfiguration. The olive after-glow gives place to
a
deep blue-grey. The yellow moon rises into the vast expanse. A
softened light diffuses itself over earth and sky. The orb of night
walks in brightness through a firmament of sapphire; or, if the
moon
is below the horizon, then the purple vault is lit up with
many-coloured stars. Silence profound reigns around. A phase of
beauty wholly different from that of the day-time smites the sense;
and the monotony of feature is forgiven to the changefulness of
expression, and to the experience of a new delight.Man
has also done his part to overcome the dulness and sameness that
brood over the "land of Mizraim." Where nature is most tame
and commonplace, man is tempted to his highest flights of audacity.
As in the level Babylonia he aspired to build a tower that should
"reach to heaven" (Gen. xi. 4), so in Egypt he strove to
startle and surprise by gigantic works, enormous undertakings,
enterprises that might have seemed wholly beyond his powers. And
these have constituted in all ages, except the very earliest, the
great attractiveness of Egypt. Men are drawn there, not by the
mysteriousness of the Nile, or the mild beauties of orchards and
palm-groves, of well-cultivated fields and gardens—no, nor by the
loveliness of sunrises and sunsets, of moonlit skies and stars
shining with many hues, but by the huge masses of the pyramids, by
the colossal statues, the tall obelisks, the enormous temples, the
deeply-excavated tombs, the mosques, the castles, and the palaces.
The architecture of Egypt is its great glory. It began early, and
it
has continued late. But for the great works, strewn thickly over
the
whole valley of the Nile, the land of Egypt would have obtained but
a
small share of the world's attention; and it is at least doubtful
whether its "story" would ever have been thought necessary
to complete "the Story of the Nations."