We move slowly, about five miles an hour, with our electric searchlight throwing its beam ahead if it is 39 night. Sometimes we meet a steamer coming north, and must moor in one of the passing stations, as the Canal is too narrow, except at these points, for large vessels to pass one another. All round us is the desert, though here and there we may see a small Arab village or perhaps a string of slow-moving camels, where the caravan route of the desert touches the line of the Canal. Towards the southern end of the waterway we pass 40 through the Bitter Lakes. At some very remote age there must have been a natural channel between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea; of this the lakes are fragments, partly dried up, and the builders of the Canal have only repaired the original work of Nature. On Lake Timsah, halfway across, stands the town of Ismailiya. Here is the real connexion with Egypt, by the railway from Cairo and the sweet water canal from the Nile.

The sweet water canal represents in part the work of 41 various rulers of Egypt from the earliest recorded times. The plan of connecting the two seas directly is modern; it was natural that the earlier route should be by way of the great river of Egypt and the inhabited part of the country. The restoration and extension of this ancient waterway was essential to the scheme for constructing the Suez Canal. A good supply of water was vitally necessary for the vast army of native labourers engaged in the work; the Canal could also be used for small traffic, and for reclaiming the neighbouring desert by irrigation. So here we have a link with the real Egypt, the waters of the Nile, and the great dam at 42 Assuan, far away up the river, which holds up the water and controls the whole system. At both ends of this long chain of water are vast engineering works of the most modern type, designed by Europeans; between 43 are the Pyramids, the greatest triumphs of the engineers and builders of the past, and the representatives of Egypt with all its ancient civilization. It is a strange contrast of the very old with the very new which meets us in this corner of Africa: the present conditions might have been very different if the great route to India and the East had passed elsewhere.

The Suez Canal, though of vital importance to the whole world and especially to the commercial Powers of Europe, is not a national undertaking but private property, constructed under a lease granted by the Egyptian Government. Our own interests in it are curious. The Canal was built through the energy and initiative of the French; it is largely owned in France and controlled from Paris. But the British people are shareholders, since our Government, in 1875, bought up the private shares of the Khedive, and now draws ordinary commercial dividends which appear in our national accounts. The shares originally cost us four millions sterling. They are now returning us as profit over a million every year. British ships, which are the largest users of the Canal, contribute the greater part of these dividends. But the waterway was too important to be left as a mere private undertaking; so, in 1888, all the great Powers of Europe agreed on a Convention to render it free to the ships of all nations in time of peace or war. By the terms of this agreement the Government of the Khedive is entrusted with the task of enforcing neutrality and protecting and maintaining the free use of the Canal, with the assistance if necessary of the Government of the Sultan of Turkey. In the last resort there is an appeal to the Powers signing the Convention. The Powers also agree to maintain the principle of equality in the use of the Canal, and not to attempt to obtain any special political or commercial privileges in regard to it. Thus, so far as documents and safeguards can avail, the Canal is to be maintained, in the interests of the whole of Europe, as an open sea-road to the East.

We steam through the Bitter Lakes and finally reach 44 the southern end of the Canal. The town of Suez lies away to the right, and beyond it the high coast of Egypt. In the distance we can see the steamers at anchor and 45 the Egyptian bumboats plying busily to and fro. But there is nothing to detain us here, so we steam on again through the warm waters of the Red Sea. On either side, for hundreds of miles, stretch the desert coasts of Egypt and Arabia. On our right the sun seems to sink behind a chain of mountains; these are not real mountains, but only the edge of a plateau, for the land ends in a steep brink overlooking the Red Sea, but slopes gently westward to the valley of the Nile. Thus Egypt proper belongs only to the river and turns its back on the sea.

Copyright.]

[See [page 25].

Copyright.]

[See [page 27].