At all events, I am now in Egypt, the oldest country in the world, the cradle of civilization. It is here that the god of thought first waved his enchanted wand, and separated intellectual light from the long night of ignorance. I am in Cairo, the capital of Egypt, and, next to Damascus, the most exclusively Oriental city in the Levant. It is still the city of “Arabian Nights.” It is as Eastern and as odd now as when “Raselas” roamed through its streets. I should like to describe Cairo, with its mosques and minarets, with its flower gardens and palm groves, with its narrow streets and curious bazaars, thronged and crowded with a moving mass of turbaned men and veiled women.
I should like especially to speak of my trip up the Nile, of my visits to the place where it is said Pharaoh’s daughter “came down to wash herself in the river,” and found Moses in the ark of bulrushes (Ex. XI: 1-10), to the Virgin’s tree, in the ward where it is claimed that Joseph and Mary lived during their stay in Egypt, to the petrified forests, and to other places of interest; but Time, that restless, sleepless, ever-watchful tyrant, forbids. If I were Joshua, I would command the sun to stand still while I finish this chapter. As that is impossible, I will do the next best thing—turn my watch back half an hour, and write on.
NUBIAN.
Peculiar interest attaches to the museum of this place, because of its mummies. The old Egyptians could not paint a beautiful picture, or chisel a graceful statue, but they certainly knew how to embalm and preserve the human body. Let us pass by the “common dead,” and go at once into the Hall of Royal Mummies. Here we find the almost perfectly preserved bodies of twelve or fifteen of Egypt’s kings. Among them is the mummy of Rameses II., the Pharaoh who ruled at the time when Moses was born. All these mummies are, of course, in air tight glass cases, but are plainly visible. Rameses II. was a man of powerful physique, a small head which is full in front, heavy features and hard. Albeit, his face betokens strength of character and an iron will. There is a far away, dreamy appearance playing over his countenance. He looks as if he is thinking about the past. We will not disturb his peaceful slumbers. We come next into the presence of His Royal Highness, King So Karimsap, who is thus labelled: “This is the oldest known mummy and is probably 5,700 years old.” As the king has rather a pleasant and familiar looking face, I presume to speak to him. I say:
“If your Royal Highness will have the goodness to excuse a stranger, I should like to ask you a few questions.”
“Quite excusable, sir, proceed,” is the fancied reply.