drooping tamarisks, and other graceful trees, and crossed at intervals by tiny bridges with neat balustrades, while abundance of orange trees, citrons, magnolias, azaleas, and other flowering shrubs, give variety and verdure to this pleasant spot. Besides which there is a very respectable collection of wild animals at one end of the garden, thus adding a zoological zest for those who have a penchant for savage beasts.

The enlightened ruler of this country has conceived the happy idea of attracting Europeans to his capital by introducing two species of amusements which, however much their frequenters may laud them to the skies, have hitherto proved anything but conducive to pureness of morals either amongst actors or spectators. The amusements to which I refer are the opera and horse-races, and as no expense has been spared in getting first-rate singers and undeniably good animals together, the result probably proves gratifying to His Highness the Khedive. For a consideration of something like ten francs, any one, if so disposed, may hear the graceful music of Verdi warbled forth by artistes of acknowledged European reputation, the blasé habitué of the opera may refresh his memory with renewed illustrations of the passionate woe breathed forth in 'Ah, che la morte,' or the pathetic upbraidings of Signor Graziani in 'Il balen.' The opera of ‘Aida' was, in the season of 1872, brought out at Cairo with a splendour which the 'ratepayers' of Egypt, it is to be hoped, duly appreciated. The racecourse is some

1

'An Egyptian opera composed by Verdi for the Khedive.

two or three miles out of town, on the road to Heliopolis. It is merely a rough track on the outskirts of the Desert, with a rude rail to indicate the course, and, on account of the heavy sand in which the horses run, the pace is very poor. Apparently, the turf' has few attractions for the Arabs, as the attendance at those races which I witnessed was extremely small, though some fine horses contended for the liberal prizes the Viceroy gave, and most of which were carried off by his own stable. The grand stand is a wooden erection, by no means imposing in appearance, and there were a few miserable booths behind, where bad brandy was being dispensed at great prices to the French and English jockeys. All the features of an English racecourse, except the indescribable air of wickedness and blackguardism which is inseparable from such meetings, were conspicuous by their absence. There was no excitement as the horses neared the winning-post, no cheering when the winner came in, hardly any attempt at keeping order on the course, no shouting out vociferous bets, no brilliantly-dressed galaxy of female loveliness, no thronging mass of dusty humanity streaming homewards when the events of the day were over. The whole affair was not only demoralising but woefully dull, hopelessly out of place, and of little advantage to any one except the donkey boys and hackney coach proprietors, who were enabled to charge double and treble their usual fares.

It is extremely easy to fall into the lazy dolce far niente life of many travellers, who come to Cairo to lounge away the

winter months. There is the incessant changes in the inmates of the hotel to give variety of company and faces. There is the eating, drinking, smoking, and reading of newspapers, and the salutations with your friends on the verandah. Then, for members of the fair sex, and not a few of the men also, there is the shopping in the Mooskee and bazaars. Every afternoon also, for more than an hour, one of the Viceroy's bands discourses popular waltzes and galops of the day in the large public gardens, recently constructed before the 'New Hotel,' which are laid out with a very fair eye to the picturesque. Refreshments can be got in these gardens at openair cafés, and they are becoming a rather favourite promenade for the strangers, while not a few of the denizens of Cairo take advantage of their attractions. New buildings are springing up in all directions, especially in the neighbourhood of the 'New Hotel,' which, by the way, is the property of the Viceroy. His Highness has a passion for building, and between the hotel and Boulac an elaborate series of streets and boulevards are being constructed, which gives a very European aspect to this portion of the city. It needs the presence of palm trees and the dim forms of the majestic Pyramids, duskily looming in the distance, to convince one that he is verily in the land of Egypt, where the gleaming crescent is the ensign of power.

A walk round about the outskirts of the city will well repay the traveller, as he can then see the activity of the Khedive1

1 The Arabic word is Khidewi. The two first letters are pronounced like the 'ch' in 'loch.'

in constructing new canals for irrigation and navigation, in extending railway accommodation, and similar projects. He will observe various processes of cultivation and irrigation going on, while great gangs of unfortunate peasants are being driven to their hated work by overseers and taskmasters, who do not scruple to use arguments based upon the whip and stick should the poor wretches diminish aught of their exertions. Still, with all his boasted schemes of civilisation, his sugar factories, and canals, and railways, his boulevards, his operas and ballets, his English grooms, carriages and horses, his consulting engineers, and syndicate of bankers to find the ways and means for that lavish expenditure which is everywhere going on,-in spite of this seeming show of outward prosperity, the power of the Viceroy rests, after all, upon a miserably inadequate foundation, for it is assuredly not grounded upon the happiness, affection, and enlightened approbation of a contented and loyal people.

CHAPTER II.

THE NILE TO ASSOUAN.

At last we are on the smooth-flowing yellow waters of that mysterious stream which for so many ages has excited the wonder of the most profound sages, and baffled the perseverance of innumerable daring discoverers. Our own immortal Livingstone, that dauntless old man, buried for years far from the ken of the civilised world, amidst lone deserts, and the dismal solitude of deadly fever swamps, seems at last to be on the eve of solving that great problem which for so long has puzzled the world. What innumerable travellers, with varying shades of descriptive enthusiasm, have painted the charms of old Nile! But those are ever new, ever radiant with the imperishable hues which must still invest the beautiful, the strange, and the majestic in nature.

How often have we read of its manifold charms, its reedy sandy banks, its clustering palm groves, its mud-built Arab villages, its animated pictures of riverside life, the strings of slow-pacing camels and their ragged picturesque attendants, blue-veiled women with graceful water-jar poised on their shoulder, its green thickets of acacias, its solemn temples and mouldering cities, dotting the narrow zone of deep