"At Cadiz, did you say?" enquired Frank.

The Chobb nodded, and said—"You'll think it odd, perhaps; but I give you my honour I never saw so many tigers in my life as during the whole of that bombardment. I ought to remember it well, for I was in command of the batteries—three of twelve twenty-fours, and one of six thirty-twos."

"But tigers are not found in Spain," observed Frank.

"I beg your pardon," said The Chobb; "I did not say tigers. Did I say tigers, General Hosham?"

"Certainly not; you said merino sheep. I remarked it particularly."

"So did I," said the philanthropic attorney.

"I will trouble you, sir," said The Chobb, twisting his mustaches, "to be a little more particular in your recollection of what I said. How could any person think I could talk such nonsense as to mention tigers in Spain?"

"There are tigers in Mexico, though," observed the general, "and we must excuse our young friend if he confused between the two places. I was generalissimo, and remember the whole thing perfectly; and very bad broth they made. The Chobb," he added in a low tone to Frank, "is very touchy if any one interrupts him in his anecdotes. He has seen an immense deal of service though he is so young, and is very instructive and entertaining."

Frank held his tongue, and listened the whole evening to the Mexican and Spanish recollections of the two warriors. His object was too nearly gained to throw it away by a quarrel with his new friends; and he played cards with them till a late hour, and lost, at the end of the evening, sixteen points.

"We played guinea points," said The Chobb, rising to go away, he having always paid his losses in shillings, "and I will thank you for sixteen."

"We were playing shilling points, you will remember," said Frank.

"General Hosham," said The Chobb, "I merely appeal to you. What points were we playing?"

"Does the other party refer it to me?" said the general, blandly smiling; "you may both depend on my unbiased decision."

"Certainly, sir," said Frank; "there can't be a doubt upon the point."

"You were certainly playing guinea points," said the general, "as I am a gentleman and a man of honour; but I think I know the origin of your mistake. You saw that I and my step-son George were playing shilling points; though I did most distinctly see you receive at the rate of guinea points from my friend and step-son, Colonel Chobb."

Frank paid the money, and would have given ten times the amount, rather than forego the chance of seeing Alice.

"And now good-night, my excellent friend and tenant," said the colonel; "and, by the by, will you allow me to borrow the ten-pound note of you I saw you take from your pocket? I wish to settle with the landlord as I go down stairs—I hate running up a bill at an inn; and besides, we can consider it a first instalment of your rent."

Frank gave him the ten-pound note; and the colonel, whose attentions to wine and brandy-and-water had been unremitted, stuffed it into his waistcoat pocket, and staggered out of the room. The general took leave with the most stately courtesy, and soon followed.

"Now, then," said Frank, "one day will decide my fate. Time, money, and temper will not have been wasted, if I get only half an hour's talk with Alice Elstree."



CHAPTER V.

Mr Percy Marvale, in the mean time, had not been idle at Howkey. He had established himself in the house, in spite of all the sour looks and short answers Mr Smith could bestow on him. All his attempts at a lodgment were aided by the invitations of Sibylla, whether conveyed in words or in untranslatable smiles and glances. An instantaneous friendship was established between him and the younger branches; and from some of the children, who came down to see their papa, and congratulate him on his return, he picked out a great mass of information about the affairs of the nursery and school-room. There certainly was as a governess—young, pretty, and very shy—exactly such as he supposed Miss Elstree would be; and his hopes were further raised by learning that her name was Alice. His next object was to see her—to speak to her, if possible—and satisfy himself of her identity; for, as the information contained in Frank's letter did not emanate from himself, and he had not even been admitted by his principal to a knowledge of its contents, he was not inclined to believe that the discovery could be made without him.

By dint of remaining at Howkey till it was impossible for Old Smith to avoid asking the friend of his preserver to stay all night, he managed to make good his quarters on the ground of his operations, and resolved to commence proceedings as early as possible in the morning. Sibylla lay awake half the night, revolving all the strange speeches he had made her—his allusions to the hidden treasure in the house—the lost star— the incognito goddess—and tracing in all his fine expressions one paramount idea of his anxiety to make himself master of a perfect paragon of beauty and romance, she could not avoid coming to the conclusion, that these were all metaphorical declarations of attachment to herself. And, on the following day, her manner had derived so much empressement from these cogitations, that all the efforts of Monimia on the imperturbable Frank were cast into the shade by the extraordinary evolutions of the sentimental Sibylla.

"Gads!" said Mr Percy Marvale to himself, "this beats the Surrey all to sticks. He must be shockingly rich"—he thought, looking round the splendidly furnished drawing-room; "I'll see if I can't do a little business on my own account, as well as Mr Edwards's."

"You've heard what I have been asking you, madam, about an undiscovered jewel in this elegant abode? Pity it should be left to the dimness of the rural shades!"

"Alas!" said Sibylla, casting down her eyes in modest embarrassment, "it is little fitted to meet the eye of the world."

"It needs a fresh setting, that's all; and they say there's an exquisite silversmith on the Scottish border. The railway brings him within twenty hours."

A few arguments pro and con—a few blushes—a few quotations from the love scenes of the Surrey, and it was finally arranged. At three, they were to meet at the foot of the lane, where a chaise was to be in waiting; and Frank Edwards was left by his faithless assistant to look after Alice Elstree for himself.

The village of Wibbleton had not slept all night for thinking of the new inhabitant of the cottage ornee; and the landlord of the Rose and Crown had not been backward in singing the praises of his generosity and riches.

"Them Chobbs has cotch another pigeon," said the hostler to the boots; "and a rare good thing they makes of that 'ere old house. The last tenant paid 'em two years's rent in forfeit; and this 'un will do the same."

"They are the bullyingest, meanestest, lyingest fellies as ever I heard of," replied the boots. "Tom Chobbs, the eldest one, owes me no end of money; but there aint no use asking it, for the whole kit on them—the lawyer, the doctor, and the old corporal, his stepfather—would all swear they had seen him pay it."

"They'll be found out some day, and the village cleared of them," replied the hostler; "and if they're in want of rope, I'll not grudge ere a halter in the stable."

"But there he goes, poor young gentleman!—they'll not leave him a farden of money if they get him into their clutches."

This pitying observation was made as Frank Edwards crossed over from the hotel, and knocked at the door of the great house, to pay his respects to The Chobb. Before he left the hotel, the landlord, with many apologies, had presented his bill for the dinner of the day before, which the military gentleman had forgotten to discharge. The door was opened, and he was shown into a parlour on the ground floor, and told to sit down till his arrival was announced.

"Maister's just a-coming, sir," said the slipshod maid, again putting her head into the parlour where Frank was sitting; and in a few minutes The Chobb, the general, the lawyer, and the medical man, walked into the room.

"I must say, sir," said The Chobb, touching his hat slightly, which he kept on while he spoke, "that this is rather extraordinary conduct, and needs explanation."

"What do you allude to, sir? You asked me to call, and I now wait on you."

"But you have not apologised, sir, nor rectified the mistake, if it was a mistake," he added, looking for support to the general.

"If it was a mistake!" repeated that distinguished commander, looking very stiff and solemn.

"Appearances are against it," chimed in the lawyer.

"What is it all about, gentlemen?" enquired Frank Edwards, biting his lip.

"All about this, sir," replied The Chobb. "I am a gentleman, and I was in hopes any tenant of mine would be a gentleman also; but when you descend to such conduct as, in presence of these parties, you did last night—there is no excuse for it—even the state of intoxication you were in is no excuse—no excuse for it at all."

"No excuse for it at all!" repeated the general, looking stately and solemn, as before.

"Perhaps the gentleman did it for a joke, and will make it good," suggested the benevolent lawyer.

"Oh, that's a different matter!" said The Chobb, slightly relaxing; "and if the gentleman withdraws it, and replaces the sum correctly, I am the last man in the world to find fault with a harmless pleasantry."

"As I don't know what you mean,"—Frank began.

"Oh, let me explain it!" interposed the general. "You offered last night to pay my step-son, Colonel Chobb, a month's rent of your cottage orne in advance. He agreed to accept it, and the ten-pound note with which you discharged the amount turns out to be a flash note on the Bank of Fashion. These are the simple facts. I regret to state that appearances are against you."

"We do not know you, you will observe," said the lawyer. "And my brother, Colonel Chobb, is always a great deal too careless in money matters. He should not have let you the cottage without a reference."

"You also raised a slight suspicion by your attempt at a wrangle on the guinea stakes," added the medical man.

"I am bound to say," observed the general, "that it would have an awkward appearance in a court of justice."

"But"—

"Oh, you need not deny it!" said The Chobb. "I hate roundabout stories. I am a gentleman. Was it a joke or not? Will you pay me a good ten-pound note or not?"

"Where is this note?"

"It is in the hands of my children's governess. I have lodged it with her for security, and gain her evidence if, unfortunately, the business goes further."

"Gentlemen," said Frank, "before I answer you, I must insist on seeing the lady, and the note exactly in the state it now is."

"Certainly! nothing can be fairer," said the general. "I will conduct you to the school-room at once."

"I should like, if you please, to be paid for these documents first," said the lawyer. "The agreement stamp is very high."

"And, as short accounts make long friendships," said the medical man, "I should like to receive my fee for attendance."

"What attendance, sir?" said Frank, whom even the approaching interview with Alice could scarcely keep cool.

"I visited you professionally at the inn yesterday, sir, and sat by your side till nearly twelve o'clock. Time with a medical man is money; and I think my demand moderate at five guineas."

"Very moderate, indeed!" said The Chobb. "Sir Henry Halford would have charged you five times the sum for half the time."

"But I never called this skilful physician in," said Frank, amazed in spite of himself.

"Didn't you? But here comes General Hosham. General Hosham, did this gentleman call me in professionally yesterday?"

"Most assuredly he did," replied the general. "I have a perfect recollection of the fact; but perhaps he may confuse it with something else. I thought I heard the name of Sir Henry Halford. He did not call him in. If I might advise, as an older man than any of you, and a mutual friend of both parties, I would suggest that this gentleman had better at once pay my step-son, George—Dr Chobb—five pounds—pounds instead of guineas—a compromise is always best between friends. Pay him the money, my good sir, and come up with me to the school-room."

A five-pound note instantly covered the doctor's face with smiles, and two tens had the same effect upon the lawyer's.

"Now, sir," he said, "I go with you;" and, preceded by the general, he went up a narrow flight of stairs.

"The French and Italian lessons are over," said the general, "and the music is not yet begun." He opened a door, and, at the farther end of the room, a young woman, with extraordinary breadth of back, was busy over a large washing-tub, in the act of wringing a child's shirt. Five or six dirty children were sewing and knitting, in different parts of the room, and Frank looked round, enquiringly, to discover Alice Elstree.

"This is the young lady that keeps the note," said the general. "Miss M'Screigh, you have the evidence?"

"Tiel a toot!" said the lady thus appealed to in a broad Highland accent, turning round from her labours, and displaying a countenance as strongly redolent of Aberdeenshire as her tongue.

But Frank would wait for no further parley. He passed rapidly down stairs, but was waylaid at the foot of them by The Chobb in person. Frank was endowed with prodigious strength, and favoured the head of the distinguished family with a dig in the ribs, that left him in the condition of an exhausted air receiver.

"That's enough—assault and battery," said the philanthropist; "swinging damages at the next assizes, and a comfortable bill of costs."

But Frank, regardless of Chobbs and assizes, pursued his way. He kicked the crazy door open, and was rejoiced to find himself in the open air. His progress through the village had not been unobserved by other eyes besides those of the hostler and boots of the Rose and Crown. There was a low thatched cottage on the opposite side of the road from the residence of The Chobb; clusters of white roses clambered in all directions over the wall, and the little lawn in front was tastefully laid out, and the turf and shrubs kept in perfect order. Along the gravel walks of this little lawn, walked slowly, as if in infirm health, a middle-aged lady, leaning for support on the arm of a tall and graceful girl; and ever and anon she turned on her companion's suffering face a look of such love and sweetness—it was sure to create a smile even on the wan lips of the invalid. That girl's eyes had rested on Frank Edwards as he passed—a red flush had crossed her brow—a whiteness, as of death, had come upon her cheek—and, leading the elder lady with tottering steps to the garden bower, she had sat down beside her, and covered her face with her hands, and burst into tears.

At the moment Frank Edwards emerged into the road, he was nearly jammed against the railings in front of the thatched cottage, by the rapid approach of a post-chaise. While he looked in at the window, the wheel dipped into a rut, the axle instantaneously broke, and the body of the carriage bumped upon the ground. In an instant he had secured the horses, and the Chobb family, rushing out, advanced to the door of the vehicle. With some difficulty the passengers were extracted, and consisted of a tall dark-complexioned gentleman, with mustaches, looking as sheepish and uncomfortable as possible.

"What! Marvale!" exclaimed Frank, "What has brought you here? and who is the lady beside you?"

"Hush, my dear sir, she's in a faint."

"Why, William," cried the philanthropic attorney, "do you pretend not to know us?"

"Ah! how d'ye do, George—ha'n't seen you a long time," said Percy Marvale, looking contemptuously at the lawyer.

"You look very grand with these mustaches," continued George; "your own father would scarcely know you."

"Is the old snob alive, then?" enquired the dutiful son.

"To be sure, and here he's coming. General Hosham, here's Bill come back again."

"Has he brought back the watch and spoons?" enquired the affectionate father; "if not, I'll have him up for the theft."

The fainting lady had been carried in the mean time by the villagers into the thatched cottage, and into it Frank also proceeded to watch over her recovery. Two ladies were bending over her; and, on Frank's approach, the elder one looked up. The younger one also saw him. There was nothing more needed than that look. Frank took a hand of each. There was an end of his uncertainties. It was Alice Elstree and her mother.

While the recognitions were going on outside, and Sibylla was slowly recovering, a phaeton had driven rapidly up, and Old Smith and his son had jumped out, and laid violent hands on Percy Marvale's collar.

"You villain, you ruffian, you swindler!" began my old friend out of breath.

"Actionable!" observed the philanthropic attorney. "I'll take down his words."

"Where is my daughter, sir?"

"I don't know. I—that is—my friend Edwards"—

"What has he to do with it, sir?"

"I should say, sir," said General Hosham, advancing in a most polite manner, and lifting his hat—"that it is probable the person alluded to by my son is guilty of the crime, whatever it is you now charge my boy with. The person has gone into that cottage, and you can arrest him on the spot."

"Oho!" said Mr Smith, "I think I recollect your faces, my fine fellows. Haven't we met at the quarter sessions? Was not there some rumour about your extorting money from a tenant a year or two ago, by threats of accusing him of passing a forged note?"

The general made a stately bow, and The Chobb himself, who had joined the crowd, felt crestfallen, and limped back again into the house.

In the cottage all things proceeded favourably. Frank Edwards, with an adroitness that would have done honour to the hero of one of Percy Marvale's melodramas, assured the angry father that Sibylla had come, at his special request, to act as companion to his bride, and consult as to the preparations for the approaching wedding. And on that same evening Sibylla and Frank accompanied Mrs Elstree and her daughter to my house, where it was arranged they were to remain for three weeks or a month, till the ceremony took place.



A HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE CANAL WHICH CONNECTED THE NILE AND THE RED SEA IN ANCIENT TIMES.

The questions relating to the different lines of communication between Europe and India have been so frequently discussed of late, and such a mass of ill-digested information on the subject has been printed, that we shall not plunge into any discussion relating to the conflicting opinions of the moderns, but proceed, without preface, to supply an accurate history of the ancient canal which connected the Nile with the Red Sea.[1] We are satisfied that any exact knowledge of what actually existed in former times, and the precise object of the ancient undertaking, are necessary, in order to form sound conclusions concerning the future.

[1] For modern information, we refer our readers to the Reports on Steam Navigation with India. Ordered by the House of Commons to be printed. 14th July 1834, and 15th July 1837.

This canal, like every other in Egypt, had its origin in the formation of a canal for irrigation, caused by an increased demand for arable land, in consequence of the augmentation of the population. It was, in its origin, one of the numerous canals which spread the waters of the Nile for the irrigation of the land of Egypt.

The country between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea is intersected in its longitude by a valley, which commences at Suez and joins the lake Menzaleh and the eastern mouth of the Nile. The level of the Red Sea is considerably higher than that of the Mediterranean. The difference at high water is about thirty-two feet, six inches; and this difference is seldom less than twenty-five feet, even at low water. The whole of this valley would be inundated, and the waters of the Red Sea would flow into the Mediterranean, through a series of lakes, were it not for a strong embankment of elevated sand which forms the shore at Suez.

The existence of the bitter lakes in the lower levels of this valley induced Aristotle,[1] and many of the ancients, to believe that Africa had once been an island—Egypt having been separated from Syria and Arabia by the union of the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. Colonel Leake, in his map of Egypt, observes, "that there is no material obstacle to a communication by lakes and inundations from Suez to the lake Menzaleh, and to Tineh—by which Africa would become an island." And some observations on the formation of a canal in this valley, will be found in the Memoire sur la communication de la Mer des Indes a la Mediterranee par la Mer Rouge et l'Isthme de Soueys, in the great French work on Egypt.[2]

[1] Meteorologica, i. 14.

[2] Chap. iii. Sec. iii. and iv. p. 60 of the Memoire.

The valley running from Suez to Tineh is joined, about halfway between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, by another valley called Seba Biar, which meets it at right angles, stretching in latitude from the elevated ground on the right bank of the eastern branch of the Nile. The valley of Seba Biar was the land of Goshen.[1] When this district is first mentioned in history, it consisted of a low level, liable to partial inundation, and affording good pasturage, though hardly suited to regular cultivation. For this reason, and from its vicinity to Syria, it was given by Joseph to the children of Israel, who were a pastoral tribe. Though Joseph was the prime minister of the country, under a dynasty of foreign conquerors—the Hyksos or Nomad Arabs—still the laws and usages of a dense native population placed such restraint on the sovereign's power, that the Israelites, being a race of shepherds, would not be mixed with the Egyptians, or put in possession of any arable land. On this account, Joseph told his father and brethren to say to the king—"Thy servants' trade hath been about cattle from our youth even until now, both we and also our fathers; that ye may dwell in the land of Goshen: for every shepherd is an abomination unto the Egyptians."[2]

[1] On this point D'Anville, Gosselin, and Major Rennell agree.

[2] Genesis, xlvi. 34.

Yet, with this restraint on his power, Joseph succeeded in effecting the greatest change in the condition of the Egyptians which any nation ever submitted to in peace. As vizier of the country, he converted the property of all the agricultural class from a freehold inheritance into a lease from government, at a rent of one-fifth of the produce of the land.[1] The project was doubtless adopted to augment the revenues of the crown, for the purpose of improving the irrigation, and augmenting the produce and population of Egypt. We know that it made the race of Egyptians a race of warriors and conquerors, until it exhausted their resources; and then, by placing the property of the people at the mercy of the government, is prepared the way for the extermination of the native Egyptian or Coptic population.

[1] Genesis, xlvii. 18-26.

The Nomads, or Hyksos, were driven from the throne of Egypt by the kings of Thebes, a native race; and under their government the prosperity and population of the country rapidly increased. The demand for land capable of cultivation became immense. Moeris constructed the wonderful artificial lake, for the purpose of regulating the inundation, and augmenting the productive powers of Egypt, which was always regarded as one of the most extraordinary undertakings of man. Monsieur Linant has lately discovered the traces of this lake, and has shown that it was formed by making embankments round a high level, from which the waters could be drawn off for irrigation. The absurd opinion of many travellers and geographers, that the Birket-el-Karaun, a salt lake in a deep natural basin, was the lake of Moeris, is therefore completely exploded; that lake could never have been any thing but a cess-pool for the superabundant waters of the lake Moeris, and a sink for the waste waters of the Nile.

When land became of so great value in Egypt as to cause such vast undertakings to be made for improving its fertility as the formation of the lake Moeris, it is not to be supposed that the Egyptians would overlook the capabilities of the land of Goshen. The Israelites were regarded with no favourable eye. They had been the friends of the foreign rulers of the land; and, consequently, both the people and the native princes declared against them, and resolved to drive them from the territory they occupied.[1] This was effected in the reign of Amenoph II., after they had remained in Egypt 430 years.[2]

[1] Exodus, i. 8, 9.

[2] Exodus, xii. 40.

At the time of the exodus, therefore, it is evident that no canal could have existed in the valley of Goshen. The population of Israelites and Nomads, however, which dwelt on the confines of the irrigable land, must have been very great; as the Hebrews alone exceeded 600,000 souls, and they were accompanied by "a mixed multitude," which is the phrase used in Scripture to designate the nomad Arabs. But though no canal existed at this period, we find evidence that a considerable trade in the produce of Egypt was already carried on through this district, caused by the want of agricultural produce in Arabia; and this trade induced the Egyptians to "guild for Pharaoh treasure-cities, Pithom and Raamses."[1]

[1] Compare Genesis, xlvii. 11, Exodus, i. 11, and xii. 37.

As soon as the children of Israel were driven out of the land of Goshen, the new occupants would naturally commence the formation of a canal, for irrigating the land they had gained. Now, a great part of the valley of Seba Biar is lower than the level of the Nile at the height of the inundation, this was easily done. A canal from the eastern branch of the river, near Bubastes, did not require to be cut to a greater distance than seven miles, in order to allow the waters to fill the valley. By this operation, the irrigation could have been carried as far as the northern boundary of the bitter lakes, between Suez and the Mediterranean; and at least 20,000 acres of land gained for agricultural purposes. This irrigation would extend itself to the Serapeion—a distance of about forty-five miles from Bubastes, and about forty from the Red Sea.

Let us now observe the chronology of the events we have already noticed. Without pretending to offer any opinion on the disputed questions of Egyptian chronology, we shall adopt the dates given by Dr Nolan in his memoir on the use of the ancient cycles in settling the differences of chronologists, published in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Literature.[1] It must be observed, that the 430 years of the sojourning of the children of Israel in Egypt is to be computed from the call of Abraham, and not from the going down of Israel, as is explained by St Paul in the Epistle to the Galatians, chap. iii. v. 17.[2]

[1] Vol. iii. p. 2.

[2] Josephus, Antiquit. Jud. ii. 15, 2; Clinton's Fasti Hellenici, i. 297.

The administration of Joseph occurred during the reign of the last king of the race of the Hyksos, B.C. 1687 The reign of Mephres, or Moeris, B.C. 1538 The exodus occurred in the year B.C. 1492

The Egyptians enjoyed a long period of prosperity after they had driven out the Israelites. Their national history, during a period of four hundred years, is recorded on their monuments; and, though not very intelligible in its details, it affords irrefragable proof that their country was always in a flourishing condition, and possessed a considerable commerce with other nations. The Egyptians, however, had as great an aversion to foreign traders as to shepherds; and it was long before they undertook any work for improving their commercial communications. At length, however, the canal, which had been carried as far as the longitudinal valley between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, began to excite their attention as affording a cheap means of transport for that portion of the produce of the country which was purchased by the inhabitants of Arabia and of the shores of the Red Sea. We have the testimony of Aristotle, Strabo, and Pliny, that the project of forming a canal to unite the Nile with the Red Sea was entertained by Sesostris.[1] Aristotle says, "that Egypt, the most ancient seat of mankind, was formed by the river Nile, as appears from the examination of the country bordering on the Red Sea. One of the ancient kings attempted to form a navigable communication between the river and the sea; but Sesostris, finding that the waters of the Red Sea were higher than those of the Nile, both he and Darius, after him, desisted from the attempt, lest the lower part of the delta should be inundated with salt water." It is extremely difficult to ascertain what king is meant by Sesostris, since that name seems to have been given by the Greeks to more that one of the distinguished monarchs of the country. Aristotle, however, clearly refers in his account to the king he calls Sesostris, and to an earlier monarch. The one may have been Sethosis, who reigned about B.C. 1291, and the other, Sesonchis of Bubastes, the Shishac of Scripture, in the year B.C. 976. These sovereigns may have converted the canal of irrigation into a regular commercial route; and the last may have commenced the greater work of connecting it with the bitter lakes. The fear of inundating the Delta with salt water, by cutting through the northern shore of the Red Sea, and allowing a communication with the bitter lakes to remain always open, has been shown by the French engineers, whose report is printed in the great work on Egypt, to be no idle fear.[2]

[1] Arist. Meteorol. i. 14. Strabo, lib. i. c. 2, vol. i. p. 60; lib. xvii. c. 1, vol. iii. 443.—Ed. Tauch. Plinii Natur. Hist., lib. vi. 33.

[2] Memoire sur la communication de la Mer des Indes a la Mediterranee, par la Mer Rouge et l'Isthme de Soueys, par M.J.M. Le Pere.

Several circumstances combine to show that the completion of the canal, and the importance of opening a direct navigable communication between the Nile and the Red Sea, must have occupied more particularly the attention of Sesonchis than of the preceding kings. He was a native of Bubastes; and the seat of his power was in the Delta. The importance of this navigation for enriching his fellow-citizens, and placing the whole trade of the Delta, to the eastward, under his control, was evident; but the great wealth which might be gained from sharing in the trade on the Red Sea, was also forced on his attention, by the immense riches which Solomon had been able to accumulate on acquiring a share in this trade, which had been previously in the hands of the Phoenicians. Solomon had extended the trade he carried on in the Red Sea, by means of the ports on the gulf of Eloth, (Ailath,) far beyond its former bounds.[1] Now, as the grain and provisions, required for supplying the fleets in the Red Sea, and the greater part of the commercial population on its coasts, must have been drawn from Egypt by the port of Suez, and as Egypt must have afforded one of the most valuable markets for the produce of Arabia and India, it is not surprising that Sesonchis made great endeavours to obtain a share in a branch of commerce from which he had seen Solomon derive such wealth. From some reason, he abandoned the project of completing the canal to Suez; but, in order to secure a portion of Solomon's riches, he invaded Judea, and plundered Jerusalem.[2] "So Shishak king of Egypt came up against Jerusalem: and he took away the treasures of the house of the Lord, and the treasures of the king's house; he even took away all: and he carried away all the shields of gold which Solomon had made." That this Shishak, or Sesonchis of Bubastes, was the Sesostris alluded to by Aristotle, Strabo, and Pliny, though it cannot perhaps be positively proved, can nevertheless hardly admit of a doubt.

[1] I Kings, ix. 26; 2 Chronicles, viii. 17.

[2] I Kings, xiv. 27; 2 Chronicles, xii. 2.

Thus far we have only been able to draw a few inferences relating to the canal, from historical facts connected with the subject; but from this period we become furnished with materials for a consecutive history. Herodotus is the earliest author who affords direct testimony of the completion of the canal, and its employment for carrying on a navigable communication between the Nile and the Red Sea. His description requires to be cited in his own words, in order to testify the sagacity of his enquiries and the accuracy of his information. "Psammetichus had a son, whose name was Nekos. This prince first commenced that canal leading to the Red Sea, which Darius, king of Persia, afterwards continued. The length of the canal is equal to a four days' voyage, and it is wide enough to admit two triremes abreast. The water enters it from the Nile, a little above the city of Bubastes. It terminated in the Red Sea, not far from Patumos, an Arabian town. In the prosecution of this work, under Nekos, no less than 120,000 Egyptians perished. He at length desisted from his undertaking, being admonished by an oracle, that all his labour would turn to the advantage of a barbarian." As soon as Nekos discontinued his labours with respect to the canal, he turned all his thoughts to military enterprise. He built vessels of war, both on the Mediterranean and in that part of the Arabian gulf which is near the Red Sea.[1]

[1] Herod. book ii. Sec. 158. Beloe's Translation, vol. i. p. 411.

This statement of Herodotus is confirmed by Diodorus Siculus, another Greek historian, who had visited Egypt, and, like Herodotus, paid great attention to its history and antiquities. The words of Diodorus are—"A canal has been dug from the Pelusiac branch of the Nile to the gulf of Arabia and the Red Sea. It was commenced by Nekos, son of Psammetichus, and afterwards continued by Darius, king of the Persians, who made some progress with the work, but abandoned it when he learned that, if the isthmus was dug through, all Egypt would be inundated, as the level of the Red Sea is higher than that of the soil of Egypt. At last Ptolemy II. (Philadelphus) completed the undertaking; having adapted an ingenious contrivance to the ingress of the canal, which was opened when a vessel was about to enter, and afterwards closed. Experience proved the utility of this invention. The waters which flow in this canal are called the river of Ptolemy, the king who executed this great work. The town of Arsinoee is constructed at its mouth."[1]

[1] Diodorus Siculus, i. 33. Nekos reigned B.C. 616 to 601. See also 2 Kings, chap. xxiii. ver. 29.

It must be recollected that Diodorus wrote about four hundred years after Herodotus; and his information concerning the earlier events, from want of precision, appears to be deficient in accuracy. These two passages make it evident that Nekos had commenced some great improvements on the canal of Sesostris; and it appears to have been his intention to have made use of it in order to secure a naval superiority in the Red Sea. It is plain, too, from the statement of Herodotus, that Darius had completed the canal, in so far as that was possible, without the invention of locks, for forming an immediate communication with the Red Sea. And from the account of Diodorus, it seems that he viewed the canal of Darius, which for ages had served for a commercial route, as incomplete; because the actual junction of the waters of the canal and the Red Sea had not taken place until Ptolemy Philadelphus, by applying the invention of locks, had enabled vessels to quit the canal in order to navigate the sea.

Strabo, who was also well acquainted with Egypt, from personal residence, mentions the locks constructed by Ptolemy. After saying that even Darius had left the junction of the canal with the Red Sea incomplete, from the danger of inundating the country, he adds—"During the government of the Ptolemies, the isthmus was cut through, and a closed passage (a euripus) formed, so that a ship, whenever it was required, could enter the outer sea or pass into the canal."[1]

[1] Strabo, xvii. c. 1. Vol. iii. p. 444.—Ed. Tauch.

Though the canal constructed by Darius had been in general use for commercial purposes, and was regarded by Herodotus, when he visited Egypt, as a work in every way complete, still there can be no doubt that its importance would be greatly increased by the locks connecting it with the Red Sea. The augmentation in the trade, and the improvement in the class of vessels which navigated the canal, induced Ptolemy to make the changes in the whole course, from which it received the name of the river of Ptolemy. A very great addition was thus made to the prosperity of Egypt, as the canal would remain navigable for four months annually, from the end of August to the end of December. During this season of the year, the people of the Delta had little to attend to but the exportation of their surplus produce, and clearing their granaries for a new harvest, by selling all that portion of their grain which was neither required for seed nor for the maintenance of their families.

It has been supposed very generally, but on no adequate authority, that Ptolemy Philadelphus constructed this canal, with a view of making it the route of the Indian trade; but this was by no means the case. Even Robertson, in his historical disquisition concerning ancient India, falls into this error, to which he adds the greater mistake of declaring, "that the work was never finished."[1] On the other hand, he points out with accuracy the real direction which Ptolemy gave to the trade with India, by Berenice and Coptos, and the great works he constructed for the convenience of transporting goods from the Nile across the desert to the Red Sea; and it may be remarked, that the Indian trade always kept this route, or one similar, until the discovery of that by the Cape of Good Hope—the great route of the merchants being either by Coptos and Berenice, or by Coptos and Myos Hormos, or, at a later period, by the Vicus Apollinis to Philotera. Ptolemy was perfectly aware of all the difficulties of the navigation of the northern part of the Red Sea, during the summer months, against the north wind. The great object of the canal was, the export of produce from the Delta, for which there was a great demand in the countries on the northern shores of the Red Sea. But there can be no doubt that ships would often sail from Arsinoee to India, disposing of their Egyptian cargo on the way, and returning with their Indian goods to Berenice, and sometimes to Arsinoee. Lucian, indeed, mentions, that "a young man, having sailed up the Nile to Clysina, and finding a ship ready to depart for India, was induced to embark."[2]

[1] P. 46, and note xvii.

[2] Alexander, 44.

The fact that the ancients found the navigation of the Nile more commodious and cheaper than that of the Red Sea, even though it entailed on them the burden of transporting their merchandise from Coptos by caravan, for six or seven days, to Berenice or Myos Hormos, should not be lost sight of in examining the objects for which the ancient canal to Arsinoee was constructed. The immense extent of the Indian trade, by Berenice and Myos Hormos, is attested by many passages in the Greek and Roman classics.[1]

[1] Compare Strabo, xii. c. 5, vol. i. p. 187, ed. Tauch.; xviii. i. vol. iii. p. 461. Plinii Hist. Nat. vi. 23; xii. 18. Arriani Perip. maris Erythr. in Hudson's Geog. min. Tom. i. 32. Athenaeus, v. p. 201.

The opinion which prevails very generally concerning the great inferiority of the ancients in naval skill, requires also to be confined strictly to nautical knowledge, and should not lead us to underrate their mechanical powers, or their means of transporting objects of as great bulk as ourselves by sea. The parade which was made at Paris about transporting the obelisk from Egypt, and erecting it in the Place de Concorde, caused our neighbours to overlook the fact, that there are several larger obelisks still existing at Rome, which were brought from Egypt, and there is one at Constantinople. The largest obelisk at Rome was brought there from Alexandria in the tine of Constantius, when the arts and sciences are generally supposed to have been in a declining state.[1]

[1] The height of the Parisian obelisk is 76 feet 6 inches, that of the Lateran, 105 feet 6 inches; of the Piazza del Popolo, 87 feet 6 inches; of the Piazza San Pietro, 83 feet. Only about 50 feet of the obelisk in the Atmeidan at Constantinople is now in existence, but its proportions indicate that it must originally have exceeded 80 feet. We have two obelisks in the British Museum, but we cannot boast much of our mechanical or naval skill in transporting them, as they are only eight feet each in length.

That the Romans found little difficulty in transporting the largest obelisks and columns by sea, is not wonderful, when we attend to the great size of some of the vessels which were constructed in ancient times. Our ignorance of the manner in which forty banks of oars were disposed in vessels larger than our three-deckers, in such a way as to enable them to make long voyages, does not authorize us to doubt the fact, with such proofs as exist. Our ideas of ancient navies are generally derived from our recollections of the battle of Salamis, as described by Herodotus, and of the engagements between the Romans and Carthaginians, in Polybius. This, however, was the infancy of the navel art, though the Romans had made great advances beyond the Athenians. Polybius, in noticing the improvement, observes that they never made use of vessels like the small triremes of the Greek states, but constructed only quinqueremes for war; and that of these they lost seven hundred in the first Punic war, while the Carthaginians lost five hundred.[1]

[1] The war lasted twenty-three years, from B.C. 264 to 241.—POLYBIUS, i. 63.

It may not, however, be superfluous to mention the measurement of some of the largest ships constructed by the ancients. A very large ship was built for Hiero, king of Syracuse, under the direction of Archimedes. We ought, therefore, to pause before we decide, that any deficiency in scientific skill rendered it a useless and unwieldy hulk. That it was not calculated to keep the sea when an English frigate would be sailing under close-reefed topsails, there can be no doubt; but we must know the intentions with which the ancients constructed their enormous ships, before we decide on their insufficiency. The ship constructed by Archimedes had twenty banks of oars, and was built as a man-of-war. It was sent from Syracuse to Egypt, as a present to Ptolemy Philopater, and was laid up in the docks of Alexandria.

But the largest vessel on record was a ship constructed for Ptolemy Philopater, which had forty banks of oars. This vessel was rather a royal yacht, built to gratify the vanity of the court, than a ship intended for any useful purpose. It was 424 feet in length, and 58 broad. The height of the forecastle from the water was 60 feet. The longest oars were 58 feet, and their handles were loaded with lead to facilitate their motion. The equipage consisted of 4400 men, of whom 4000 were rowers. A ship constructed for the voyages of the court on the Nile, was 330 feet long, and 45 feet wide.[1]

These passages are sufficient to show the immense size of ancient ships, and to prove that their system of naval architecture could not have been directed to contend against contrary winds, but was calculated to transport the largest burdens.

[1] A modern first-rate is about 205 feet long, 54 feet broad, and draws 25 feet water. Its weight is about 4600 tons, when the guns and provisions are on board. Of course, the weight even of Ptolemy's immense ship could not have approached this. Athen. Deipnosophistae, lib. v. Sec. 37, (p. 203.) Our skill in transporting large blocks of marble is so small, that we have been compelled to cut in two some of the Lycian monuments of no great size.

We must now notice the passages which have been supposed to controvert the account we have given of the completion of the canal between the Nile and the Red Sea. The first is a passage of Pliny the Elder, which asserts that Ptolemy Philadelphus only carried the canal to the bitter lakes. "Ex quo navigabilem alveum perducere in Nilum, qua parte ad Delta dictum decurrit, sexagies et bis centena mill. passuum intervallo, (quod inter flumen et Rubrum mare interest,) primus omnium Sesostris Aegypti rex cogitavit: mox Darius Persarum: deinde Ptolemaeus sequens: qui et duxit fossam latitudine pedum centum, altitudine XL, in longitudinem XXXVII mill. D passuum usque ad Fontes amaros." It is needless to remind the reader that Diodorus and Strabo, who lived before Pliny, and had both resided long in Egypt, had seen the canal finished, and described the lock by which it communicated with the Red Sea. It appears, indeed, that the passage, as it stands, has arisen from some inadvertence of Pliny, or perhaps from some blunder of his copyists; for he contradicts his statement, that the canal of Ptolemy terminated at the bitter lakes, in a subsequent passage, in which he mentions that Philadelphus constructed the branch which reached Arsinoee, and was called the river of Ptolemy.—"Eae viae omnes Arsinoeen ducunt, conditam sororis nomine in sinu Charandra, a Ptolemaeo Philadelpho, qui primus Troglodyticen excussit, et amnem qui Arsinoeen praefluit, Ptolemaeum appellavit."[1]

[1] Plinii Natur. Hist. lib. vi. Sec. 33.

The other passage is contained in Plutarch's life of Antony; and to a casual reader, who forgets that the canal could only have been navigable during the season of the inundation, in consequence of the high level of the waters of the Red Sea, a difficulty in explaining the passage will immediately occur, and an inference will be drawn against the existence of the canal at the time. Monsieur Letronne, with his usual critical sagacity, has, however, pointed out the combination of facts which render the anecdote in Plutarch a confirmation of the ordinary employment of the canal, rather than an argument against its existence at the time.[1] Cleopatra, when alarmed at the result of the war between Antony and Augustus, had sent her son Caesario, the reputed child of Julius Cesar, with a considerable amount of treasure, through Ethiopia into India.[2] "When Antony returned to Alexandria after the battle of Actium, he found Cleopatra engaged in a very stupendous and bold enterprise. She was endeavouring to transport her fleet over the isthmus between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, which, in the narrowest part, is three hundred stades, and by this means, with her fleet in the Arabian gulf, and with her treasures, to escape from slavery and war."[3] Letronne has pointed out, that the battle of Actium having been fought on the 2nd of September, B.C. 31, it is evident from the subsequent events, that Antony could not have rejoined Cleopatra in Egypt before the month of February, or perhaps even later, in the ensuing year. Now, this period coincides with that at which the low state of the waters of the Nile must have rendered the canal useless for the passage of Cleopatra's fleet. Her extreme terror would not allow her to wait until the rise of the Nile again rendered the canal navigable, and she resolved on transporting her fleet to the Red Sea by land. It must be observed, however, that the project could hardly have occurred to Cleopatra as feasible, unless she had been well aware that vessels often passed from the Mediterranean into the Red Sea. The project was abandoned, as the Arabs of Petra burned the first ships that Cleopatra attempted to transport; and Antony soon persuaded her that his affairs were by no means so desperate as she supposed.

[1] Memoire sur l'Isthme de Suez, dans la Revue des deux Mondes, tom. xxvii. 223.

[2] Plutarch in Anton., Sec. 81.—Langhorn's Translation, in 1 vol., p. 656.

[3] Plutarch in Anton., Sec. 69.—Translation, p. 652.

The canal was of far too great importance to the prosperity of Egypt, and the revenues of the country were too immediately connected with its existence, as one of the highways for exporting the produce of the Delta, for the Romans to neglect its conservation. It is true that the Romans never paid much attention to commerce, which they despised; and during the long period they governed their immense empire in comparative tranquillity, they did less to improve and extend its relations than any other people of antiquity. But they were always peculiarly attentive to preserve every undertaking which was connected with the agricultural industry and land revenue of their provinces. Unless, therefore, their attention had been directed to the canal of Suez, either as an important military line of communication, or as an instrument for displaying the pride and power of the empire, it would have undergone no improvement under the Roman emperors.

It happened, however, that when Trajan became anxious to display his magnificence in adorning Rome with new buildings, that the fashion of the times rendered the granite and the porphyry in the neighbourhood of the Red Sea indispensable. To obtain the immense columns, and the enormous porphyry vases, which were then admired, with sufficient celerity and in sufficient quantity, it became necessary to render the canal navigable for a longer period of time every year. In order to effect this, Trajan constructed a new canal from the vicinity of Babylon, and connected it with the ancient canal through the valley of Seba Biar.[1] This new work is called the river of Trajan by Ptolemy the geographer; and as it gave an additional elevation of thirteen feet to the stream which fed the canal, it may have supplied the means of keeping the navigation open for about six months yearly.[2]

[1] Babylon was near Cairo.

[2] Ptolemy, lib. iv. 5.

The quarries of granite and porphyry which supplied the Romans in the time of Trajan, were discovered by Sir Gardner Wilkinson and Mr Burton, in the years 1821-22, at Djebel-Fattereh and Djebel-Dokhan; and Monsieur Letronne has pointed out the connexion of these quarries with the improvements made by Trajan in the canal.[1] Many large works of porphyry exist, which must have been worked in the quarries of Djebel-Dokhan. We need only enumerate the great porphyry vase in the Vatican, which exceeds fourteen feet in diameter—that of the museum at Naples, which is cut out of a block nearly as large—the tombs of St Helen in the Vatican, and of Benedict XIII. in St John Lateran—and the blocks of the porphyry column at Constantinople. It is evident that the masses could never be conveyed from Djebel-Dokhan to the Nile by land; but no great difficulty would be found in transporting them to Myos Hormos on the Red Sea, and embarking them there for Arsinoee; from whence their conveyance to Alexandria, by the canal and the Nile, was easy. It is well known that the quarries of porphyry in Egypt could not have grown into importance until after the reign of Claudius, as Vitrasius Pollio sent the first porphyry statues which had been seen at Rome as a present to that emperor.[2] The chief, if not the only quarries of red porphyry known to the ancients were in the Thebaid, at Djebel-Dokhan.

[1] Journal of the Royal Geographical Society, vol. ii.

[2] Plinii Natur. Hist. xxxvi. 11.

At the granite quarries of Djebel Fattereh, Sir Gardner Wilkinson found many columns in various stages of completion, some ready to be removed; and of these there were several of the enormous size of fifty-five feet long, and nearly eight feet in circumference. These quarries are at least thirty miles distant from the Red Sea; but, as the ground affords a continual descent, and some traces of the road exist, there cannot be a doubt that these immense columns were destined to be carried to Philotera, and there shipped for Arsinoee, and that, like the porphyry vases, they were to find their way to Rome, by the canal, the Nile, and the port of Alexandria. Sir Gardner Wilkinson has shown that these granite quarries were abandoned not long after the reign of Hadrian; and an inscription, quoted by Letronne, proves that the granite quarries at Syene were first worked about the years A.D. 205-209. The great facilities afforded by the Nile for transporting the largest columns from Syene to Alexandria, appears to have caused the immediate abandonment of the quarries of Djebel Fattereh; as the expense of transporting the columns already finished was doubtless greater than the cost of working and conveying new ones from Syene to Alexandria.

The canal of Trajan continued to be kept open, after the building mania, to which it owed its origin, had ceased. It had extended the sphere of the export trade of the Delta; and it continued to serve as the means of transporting the blocks of porphyry—for which there was a constant demand at Rome and Constantinople, and, indeed, in almost every city of wealth in the Roman empire. Eusebius, in his ecclesiastical history, mentions that the porphyry quarries of the Thebaid were worked during the time of the great persecution, in the reign of Dioclesian. He says, "that one hundred martyrs were selected from the innumerable crowd of Christians condemned to labour in the Thebaid, in the place called Porphyritis, from the marble which was quarried at the spot."[1]

[1] Eusebius, lib viii. c. 8.

In the reign of Justinian, we find these quarries still worked on a considerable scale, as they are alluded to more than once by Paul the Silentiary, in his description of the Church of St Sophia at Constantinople. He affords evidence that the porphyry still continued to be transported by the Nile to Alexandria; and though his words contain no express mention of the canal, it is evident that the workmen of Justinian would always prefer the easier road by Myos Hormos and Arsinoee, to the almost impracticable task of conveying the blocks across the desert.[1] In the reign of Justin I., the trade of the Red Sea was of great importance, and must have created an immense demand for the agricultural produce of Egypt. The King of Ethiopia, resolving to attack Dunaan, the Jewish king of the Homerites in Arabia, collected, during the winter, a fleet of seven hundred Indian vessels, and six hundred trading ships, belonging to the Roman and Persian merchants who visited his kingdom.[2]

[1] Pauli Silentianii Descripto Magnae Ecclesiae Sanctae Sophiae, v. 379, 620.

[2] Acts of the Martyrs; Metaphrast. Ap. Sur. tom v. p. 1042.

After the reign of Justinian, it is not improbable that the repairs necessary for maintaining the navigation of the canal open began to be neglected, as we know that the population and industry of Egypt began to decline. The tribute of grain to Constantinople, and the public distributions to the people of Alexandria, appear to have exhausted all the surplus produce of the country; and to facilitate their collection, Justinian forbade the exportation of grain from any part of Egypt but Alexandria, except under great restrictions.[1] This edict, doubtless, ruined both the canal and the trade in the Red Sea, and may be looked upon as one of the proximate causes of the increasing power of the Arabs about the time of the birth of Mohammed. The Arabian caravans became possessed of the commerce formerly carried on in the northern part of the Red Sea; and as the wealth and civilization of the Arabs increased, a demand for a new religion, and a more extended empire, arose.[2] Had the complete abandonment of the canal not taken place shortly after the publication of Justinian's edict, it must have been completed during the universal anarchy which prevailed while Phocas reigned at Constantinople. Shortly after Heraclius delivered the empire from Phocas, the Persians invaded Egypt, and kept possession of it for ten years; nor is it probable that Heraclius could have made any efforts to restore the canal during the time he ruled Egypt, after recovering it from the Persians. When the Saracens conquered Egypt, they found the canal filled with sand.

[1] Edict xiii., Lex de Alexandrinis et Egyptiaciis provinciis.

[2] Transport, in some states of civilization, is cheaper by caravan than by sea.

The principle of all Mohammedan governments places the supreme power of the state in the person of the sovereign; and these sovereigns, in the simplicity or barbarism of their political views, have always considered the construction of wells, fountains, caravanseries, and mosques, as the only public works, except palaces, (if palaces can be properly so called,) worthy of a monarch's attention. Ports and canals they have always utterly despised, and roads and bridges have been barely tolerated. It is as difficult to civilize the mind of a true Mohammedan, as it is to wash the skin of a negro white. But the earlier caliphs were not moulded into true Mussulmans; they had been witnesses to the making of their religion; and, when they forsook the rude superstitions of their forefathers of the desert, they had admitted some gleams of common sense and sound reason into their minds, along with the sermons of Mohammed.

And in the early ages of the caliphate, Syria and Egypt were inhabited by a numerous Christian population of the Nestorian and Jacobite heresies, firmly attached to the Saracen power, on their hatred to the orthodox Roman emperors at Constantinople. The importance of the canal of Suez to the well-being of these useful subjects of the Arab empire, could not escape the attention of the caliphs. The native population of Egypt had, with the greatest unanimity, joined the Saracens against the Romans; and the Caliph Omar would have been led by policy to restore the canal, in order to enrich these devoted partisans, as he was induced to burn the library of Alexandria to diminish the moral influence of the Greeks.

The Arabian historians and geographers contain numerous passages relating to the re-opening of the canal, and many of these will be found translated at the end of the Memoire sur le Canal des Deux Mers. They state that Omar ordered the canal of Trajan to be cleared out in its whole extent. The necessity of securing a greatly increased supply of grain for the holy cities of Medina and Mecca, whose population had been suddenly augmented by their becoming the capitals of all Arabia, and the centres of the Mohammedan power, could not be overlooked. But the mind of Omar was particularly directed to the subject, in consequence of a famine which prevailed in Arabia in the eighteenth year of the Hegira, (A.D. 639,) which was afterwards called the year of the mortality. In that year, the caliph's attention was also more especially called to the fertility of Egypt, as Amron, at his pressing demand for provisions, sent such an immense caravan, that the Arabian writers, with their usual exaggeration, declare, that the convoy was so numerous as to extend the whole way from Medina to Cairo; the first camel of the train entering the Holy City with its load, as the last of the uninterrupted line quitted Misr. The descriptions of the abundance this supply spread among the Arabs are indeed less miraculous, though such eloquence is displayed in painting the gastronomic delights of the hungry Mussulmans, in devouring the savoury food cooked with the fat of the beasts of burden which had transported it.[1]

[1] Ebn-A'bdoul-Hokin.

The account of the canal given by the geographer Makrizy, requires to be transcribed in his own words, from the accurate summary which it contains of the later history of this great monument of civilization. "When the Most High," says the writer, "gave Islamism to mankind, and Amrou-Ben-el-A'ss conquered Egypt by the order of Omar-ben-al-Khatab, chief of the Faithful, he cleared out the canal in the year of the mortality. He carried it to the sea of Qolzoum, from which ships sailed to the Hedjaz, to Yemen, and to India. This canal remained open until the time when Mohammed-ben-Abdoullah-ben-El-Hossein-ben-Aly-ben-Aby-Thaleb revolted in the city of the Prophet (Medina) against Abou-dja'far-Abdoullah ben-Mohammed Al-Manssour, then caliph of Irak. This prince immediately wrote to his lieutenant in Egypt, ordering him to fill up the canal of Qolzoum, that it might not serve to transport provisions to Medina. The order was executed, and all communication was cut off with the sea at Qolzoum. Since that time, matters have remained in the state we now see them."[1] As the rebellion of Mohammed Abdoullah against the caliph, Al Manssour, occurred between the 145th and the 150th years of the Hegira, (A.D. 762-767,) the canal had remained open for about 125 years under the Arab government.

[1] See the extracts of Makrizy in the work on Egypt, and in the Notice par Langles dans les notices et extraits des Manuscrits de la Bibliotheque du Roi, vi. 334.

We have now traced the history of the canal to its close; and we believe our readers will allow that we have proved, by incontrovertible evidence, that a continued navigation from the Nile to the Red Sea existed from the time of Darius (B.C. 500) to the time of Al-Manssour, (A.D. 765,) with the interruption of a short period preceding the extinction of the Roman power in the east. It hardly requires any proof to establish that system of navigation, and a commercial route, which remained in use for nearly 1300 years, must have been based on the internal sources of Egypt, and been regarded as absolutely necessary, under every vicissitude of foreign trade, to the prosperity of the country. The great object of the canal was to afford a high-road for the exportation of the produce of Egypt; and its connexion with the Indian trade was merely a secondary and unimportant consideration. Its connexion with the existence of the agricultural, Egyptian, or Coptic population, was more immediate.

At present, the question of restoring the canal is solely connected with the Indian trade. We own we have very great doubts whether its re-establishment, if destined only to connect our lines of steam-packets from India to Suez, and from Southampton to Alexandria, would be found a profitable speculation. The tedious navigation of the Red Sea, and, we may almost add, of the Mediterranean, would render the route by the Cape preferable for sailing vessels; and we have not yet arrived at such perfection in the construction of steamers, as to contemplate their becoming the only vessels employed in the Indian trade. It appears to us, that before any reasonable hope of restoring the canal can be entertained, or, at least, before it can ever be kept open with profit, that Egypt must be again in a condition to employ the irrigable land on the banks of the canal for agricultural purposes. Unless the country be flourishing, the population increasing, and the canal constantly employed, it would be half-filled with the sand of the desert every year. On the other hand, as soon as a demand for more irrigable land is created by an augmented population, a canal of irrigation would soon be carried through the valley of Seba Biar; and the surplus produce of the Delta would again seek for a market on the shores of the Red Sea and in Arabia. Until these things happen, even should a canal be excavated, whether from Cairo to Suez, or from Suez to Tineh, during some pecuniary plethora in the city, we venture to predict that the Suez canal shares, or Mohammedan bonds, will be as disreputable a security as honest Jonathan's American repudiated stock, or the Greek bonds of King Otho not countersigned by Great Britain.

We cannot close this article without alluding to two able pamphlets, which have been recently published, recommending the formation of a canal from Suez to Tineh, as that line might be kept always open, from the elevation of the Red Sea above the Mediterranean.[1] The subject has been ably treated by the French engineers in the great work on Egypt, and Monsieur Linant has since examined the question; but the information we possess on the effect of the currents and winds at Tineh, is not sufficient to enable any engineer to decide on the works which would be necessary to enable ships to enter the canal in bad weather. It is clear that a bar would immediately be formed; and almost as certain that any break-water but a floating one would soon be joined to the continent by a neck of sand. If it be possible to form any part at this point on the Egyptian coast, it could only be done at an enormous cost; and our information is at present too imperfect to warrant our entering on the subject. The question requires a more profound scientific examination than it has yet undergone.

[1] Enquiry into the Means of Establishing a Ship Navigation between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, with a Map. By Captain Veitch, R.E., F.R.S. Communications with India, China, &c.; Observations on the Practicability and Utility of Opening a Communication between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, by a Ship Canal through the Isthmus of Suez, with Two Maps. By Arthur Anderson.

One of the ablest scholars who has written on the subject of this canal, has advanced the opinion, that Nekos, the king of Egypt, who, Herodotus mentions, undertook the completion of this work, borrowed the idea of his project from the Greeks. Monsieur Letronne conjectures that he only imitated the plan, which is attributed to Periander, of having designed to cut through the isthmus of Corinth. Willing as we are to concede a great deal to Grecian genius, we are compelled to protest against the probability of the Egyptians having borrowed any project of canalization from the Greeks. We own we should entertain very great doubts whether Periander had ever uttered so much as a random phrase about cutting through the isthmus of Corinth, were it not that there are some historical grounds for believing that he was a professed imitator of Egypt. He had a nephew named Psammetichus, who must have been so called after the father of Nekos.[1] All projects for making canals in Greece had a foreign origin, from the time Periander imitated Egyptian fashions, down to the days of the Bavarian regency, which talked about making a ship canal from the Piraeus to Athens, and instructed a commission to draw up a plan of canalization for the Hellenic kingdom, where every thing necessary is wanting—even to the water. The earlier projectors who proposed to cut through the isthmus of Corinth, after Periander, were the Macedonian adventurer Demetrius Poliorcetes, and the Romans, Julius Caesar, Caligula, Nero, and Herodes Atticas.[2] We should not be surprised to see this notable project revived, or to hear that the Greeks were on the point of sinking new shafts at the silver mines of Laurium. A joint-stock company, either for the one or the other, would be quite as profitable to the capitalists engaged as the scheme of making sugar from beet-root at Thermopylae, which has found some unfortunate shareholders, both at Athens and Paris. Travellers, scholars, and antiquaries, would undoubtedly take more interest in the progress of the canal, and of the silver mine, than in the confection of the sugar.

[1] Aristotolis Politic, lib. v. cap. 10, Sec. 22, p. 193.—Ed. Tauch.

[2] A collection of the classic authorities for the different attempts at cutting the canal through the isthmus of Corinth, may be interesting to some of our readers. PERIANDER'S Diogenes Laertius, i. 99—DEMETRIUS POLIORCETES, Strabo, vol. i. p. 86, ed. Tauch.—JULIUS CAESAR, Dion Cassius, xliv. 5. Plutarch in Caesar, lviii. Suetonius in Caesar. xliv.—CALIGULA, Suetonius in Calig. xxi.—NERO, Plinii, N.H. iv. 4. Lucian, Nero. Philostratus in vit. Apollon. Tyan. iv. 24. Zonaras, i. 570, ed. Paris.—HERODES ATTICUS, Philostratus in vit. Sophist. ii. 26.

There was another canal in Greece which proved a sad stumbling-block to the Roman satirist Juvenal, whose unlucky accusation of "lying Greece," is founded on his own ignorance of a fact recorded by Herodotus and Thucydides.

—"Creditur olim Velificatus Athos, et quicquid Graecia mendax Audet in historia."

The words of Herodotus and Thucydides, would leave no doubt of Xerxes having made a canal through the isthmus to the north of Mount Athos, in the mind of any but a Roman.[1] But since there are modern travellers as ready to distrust the ancients, as a gentleman we once encountered at Athens was to doubt the moderns, we shall quote better evidence than any Greek. Our acquaintance of the Athenian inn, who had a very elegant appearance, appealed to us to confirm the Graecia mendax, saying, he had just returned from Marathon, and his guide had been telling him far greater lies than he ever heard from an Italian cicerone. "The fellow had the impudence to say, that his countrymen had defeated 500,000 Persians in the plain he showed me," said the gentleman in green. "Let alone the number—that fable might be pardoned—but he thought me such an egregious ass as not to know that the war was with the Turks, and not with the Persians at all." We bowed in amazement to find our English friend more ignorant than Juvenal. We shall now transcribe the observations of Colonel Leake, the most sharp-sighted and learned of the modern travellers who have visited the isthmus of Mount Athos:—"The modern name of this neck of land is provlaka, evidently the Romanic form of the word [Greek: proaulax], having reference to the canal in front of the peninsula of Athos, which crossed the isthmus, and was excavated by Xerxes. It is a hollow between natural banks, which are well described by Herodotus as [Greek: kolonoi ou megaloi], the highest points of them being scarcely 100 feet above the sea. The lowest part of the hollow is only a few feet higher than that level. About the middle of the isthmus, where the bottom is highest, are some traces of the ancient canal; where the ground is lower, it is indicated only by hollows, now filled with water in consequence of the late rains. The canal seems to have been not more than sixty feet wide. As history does not mention that it was ever kept in repair after the time of Xerxes, the waters from the heights around have naturally filled it in part with soil in the course of ages. It might, however, without much labour, be renewed; and there can be no doubt that it would be useful to the navigation of the Egean, such is the fear entertained by the Greek boatmen of the strength and uncertain direction of the currents around Mount Athos."[2]

[1] Herodotus, vii. 21. Thucydides, iv. 109

[2] Leake's Travels in Northern Greece. Vol. iii. p. 143.



THE OLD SCOTTISH CAVALIER.

I.

I'll sing you a new song, that should make your heart beat high, Bring crimson to your forehead, and the lustre to your eye;— It is a song of olden time, of days long since gone by, And of a Baron stout and bold, as e'er wore sword on thigh! Like a brave old Scottish cavalier, all of the olden time!

II.

He kept his castle in the north, hard by the thundering Spey; And a thousand vassals dwelt around, all of his kindred they. And not a man of all that clan had ever ceased to pray For the Royal race they loved so well, though exiled far away From the steadfast Scottish cavaliers, all of the olden time.

III.

His father drew the righteous sword for Scotland and her claims, Among the loyal gentlemen and chiefs of ancient names, Who swore to fight or fall beneath the standard of King James, And died at Killiecrankie pass, with the glory of the Graemes, Like a true old Scottish cavalier, all of the olden time!

IV.

He never own'd the foreign rule, no master he obey'd, But kept his clan in peace at home, from foray and from raid; And when they ask'd him for his oath, he touch'd his glittering blade, And pointed to his bonnet blue that bore the white cockade, Like a leal old Scottish cavalier, all of the olden time!

V.

At length the news ran through the land—THE PRINCE had come again! That night the fiery cross was sped o'er mountain and through glen; And our old Baron rose in might, like a lion from his den, And rode away across the hills to Charlie and his men, With the valiant Scottish cavaliers, all of the olden time!

VI.

He was the first that bent the knee when THE STANDARD waved abroad, He was the first that charged the foe on Preston's bloody sod; And ever, in the van of fight, the foremost still he trod, Until, on bleak Culloden's heath, he gave his soul to God, Like a good old Scottish cavalier, all of the olden time!

VII.

Oh! never shall we know again a heart so stout and true— The olden times have pass'd away, and weary are the new: The fair White Rose has faded from the garden where it grew, And no fond tears but those of heaven the glorious bed bedew Of the last old Scottish cavalier, all of the olden time!

W.E.A.



TRADITIONS AND TALES OF UPPER LUSATIA.

No. III.

THE DWARF'S WELL.

We have been shown, in our two preceding pieces from Ernst Willkomm, Pathetic Fairies, and Fairies merry to rioting. Here we have, not without merriment either, Working Fairies. In the mines of the Upper Lusatian Belief, the tale of THE DWARF'S WELL strikes into a vein which our author has promised us, but of which we have not heretofore handled the ore. Here we shall see the imagination touching in some deeper sterner colours to the sketches flung forth by the fancy; and in the spirit of unreal creation, a wild self-will which rejoices to waft into the presence of the beautiful, and of unbridled laughter, cold blasts from the region of pure affright. There is in this, however, no prostration of strength—quite the reverse! Not a nervous and enfeebled sensibility, yielding itself up to a diseased taste for pain.—No child fascinated with fear, and straining its eyes to take in more horror. But here the unconquerable consciousness of strong life throws itself with an unmastered glee of battle, right into the thick of its mortal adversaries, to slay, and strip, and bind to its own triumphant chariot-wheels.

The Upper Lusatian Highlander, turned poet, dreaming at his discretion, amuses himself with converting terror and madness into merriment, and reconciles conflicting elements of invention—with an overpowering harmony?—No. But, by subjugating them all alike to one imperious lord, viz. to himself;—to his own pleasure. Hence, in the Traditions and Tales, in which he embodies his illusory creed of the Invisible, there is engendered an esthetical species, which waits, perhaps, for a name with us, and might accept that of the Ghastly, or at least, of the Ghostly-Humorous, the Gay-Horrible. The story of the PRIEST'S WELL soars boldly upon this pinion; that of the WILL-O'-THE-WISP HUSSAR has gone stark-raving in the same grimly-mirthful temper. The mind in which Burns imagined and chaunted his TAM-O'-SHANTER, is right down Upper Lusatian, in this key. Our Elves, however, are not yet witches.

The kinds of the spirits confine, upon every side, with one another, and the boundary lines vanish. Within the circumscription of the Fairy domain, an indeterminable difference appears betwixt the truest Fairies and the Dwarfs. The two sorts, or the two names, are sometimes brought into glaring opposition. Again, like factions made friends, they blend for a time indistinguishably. So, in the Persian belief, the ugly Dios, who may represent the Dwarfs of our west, are—under one aspect of the Fable—the implacable cannibal foes—under another,—the loving spouses of the beautiful Peris. Comparing the Fairies of our two former tales, and the Dwarfs of this, the reader will probably see in THOSE, the daintier, the more delicate: in THESE, a little more hardness of nature.

The great length of the story precludes all thoughts (be the opportunities what they may, and these are not deficient) of bringing its illustration from other expositors—Teutonic or otherwise-of the Fairy Lore.

THE DWARF'S WELL.

"Nicholas Stringstriker was the most popular ale-house fiddler for a good twenty miles round, and consequently quite indispensable at all christenings, marriages, and wakes. Klaus knew this as well as every body else, and, like a wise man, did the best he could to turn his popularity to account—the more so, poor fellow! because he was obliged to put up with all kinds of ridicule and teasing. Stringstriker, you must know, was a most comical little fellow, with very small thin bandy legs, that had to bear the burden of a huge square trunk, which, in its turn, supported a big head that was for ever waggling to and fro, without affording the slightest indication of a neck. The entire little man measured exactly three feet five inches and an eighth, and he was best known to his acquaintance by the name of Dwarf-fiddler or Dwarf-piper; for the little gentleman smoked away for his life, and liked nothing better.

"So misshapen a figure, it may readily be supposed, made a very good target for the shafts of mockery. Nicholas, however, troubled himself but little about them; and it was small complaint you heard from him so long as he was well paid, got his savoury morsel, and, above all, a liberal supply of his choice favourite—Tobacco. True, folks might now and then, as the saying is, draw the cord too tight and be too hard upon the scraper; and then Klaus, like most deformed creatures, had wit and venom enough at his command, and could rid himself right easily of his tormentors.

"The Dwarf—it might be to render himself thoroughly independent, or, more likely still, to surround his diminutive individuality with an air of mystery—had abandoned his birth-place, and established himself about two miles away from it, near a singularly-formed sandstone rock, situated in a small but exceedingly pretty fir-wood, and commonly known by the name of the Bear's church. Here he spent his quiet life, wholly engaged in the practice of his art. Travellers taking their road by night, and in calm weather, from Bertsdorf to Hoernitz or over the Breitenberg to Gross-schoenau were arrested by the exquisite strains, now touchingly plaintive, now joyously merry, that poured from Klaus's magical instrument; and many a happy soul, allured by the enchanting melody, lingered within sound of it, until wholly subdued and rendered powerless by awe and superstitious fear. Although by day the fiddler was visible to none, yet by night he was often seen waddling out of the wood and over the fields, on his way to a clear spring, whence he drew water for his housekeeping, which—to add to the mystery that he delighted to create—he doggedly looked after himself. This spring belonged to a substantial farmer in Bertsdorf, named Michael Simon, though called by the people Twirling-stick Mike, in commemoration of his cutting down yearly in his wood a handsome quantity of young trees, which he afterwards manufactured into twirling-sticks. Simon not only was master of a good farm, but proprietor likewise of the village tavern, in which he gave a dance every Sunday, taking care to secure for the festivity the services of Stringstriker, to whose fiddle, it was well known, the lads and lasses invariably danced an hour longer than to that of any other scraper in the country.

"The visits of Stringstriker to the well were a continual vexation to the farmer. The Dwarf asked no man's permission to draw his water, but helped himself as often and as liberally as he thought proper, without the slightest regard to the wants of other people, which were often left unsatisfied by his wantonness and extravagance. It was in consequence of this audacious appropriation, that the spring by degrees acquired the name of THE DWARF'S WELL. Countless were the complaints and menaces of Mike—numberless the promised threshings, if he did not give up his thieving; but the effect of them all upon Klaus was to make him laugh outright, fill his pipe, and strike up a jolly tune upon his fiddle.

"Now it happened that Twirling-stick Mike held a christening, and he not only asked the Dwarf as a guest to the feast, but actually went so far as to invite the creature to stand godfather to his child. Klaus was mightily pleased with the honour, and behaved like a gentleman on the occasion. He made his godson a handsome present, and promised to do a good deal more for him, stipulating only that the child, being a boy, should be named Nicholas after himself.

"There was a merry party at the christening, and at first matters went on smoothly and comfortably enough; but as the eating, and drinking, and dancing advanced, quips and cranks became very plentiful, and the greater number, as might be expected, were flung, and not very lightly, at the head of poor Stringstriker. The fiddler for a time received his cuffs very manfully—but they grew intolerable at last. First, his legs were criticised—then his lank withered arms; even his fiddling was disparaged, and he himself pronounced highly indecorous, because he persisted in smoking his pipe all the while he scraped.

"'Klaus, Klaus!' said the master of the house, his sides shaking with laughter, 'if you don't forswear smoking this very instant, your sponsorship sha'n't stand. As sure as my name is Twirling-stick Mike, I won't allow it; and the boy shall be called Michael after his father.'

"Klaus laughed too, went on smoking, and tuned his fiddle.

"'Did you hear what I said, you bandy-legged Dwarf-piper?' bawled Simon, in continuation.

"Klaus laid his fiddle aside.

"'Gossip!' said he, in a tone of meaning, 'keep within bounds—within bounds, I say—and don't force me for once to fiddle to an ugly tune. I am your boy's godfather; his name is Klaus, and Klaus he shall be called amongst my children!'

"The whole company simultaneously broke out into loud laughter, and exclaimed with one voice—

"'Amongst his children!'

"'Why, where have you left your respectable better-half, then?' asked Simon, 'and what wench ever gave herself up to two such noble shanks? Where, in Heaven's name, Klaus, was the parson ordained that trusted a poor woman to you for better or worse?'

"The Dwarf smoked away, and could hardly be seen through the cloud that enveloped him.

"'Idiots!' he murmured to himself, 'as if we lived like mere human Creatures'—

"'What's that you say?' asked Simon, interrupting him. 'Don't talk blasphemy, you heathenish imp, or'—

"'Be quiet, gossip!' returned the Dwarf, with a savage frown. 'Don't put me up, or I and my children may be troublesome to you and yours yet. You had better give me some more tobacco, for I love smoking, and so do my people!'

"'If he isn't cracked, I am a Turk!' exclaimed Simon. 'Pride has turned that added head of his quite round. Well, Heaven preserve me from a cracked godfather, any how!'

"'Body of me!' interposed an old boor, one of the party, 'what the crab says is true.'

"'True!' said Simon.

"'Yes! What, have you never heard of the Spirits and Dwarfs who, for thousands of years, have carried on their precious games in all kinds of underground pits and holes? Now, take my word for it, he has something to do with them. Klaus is just the fellow for the rogues. They make choice of a king once every fifty years—one of flesh and blood, like ourselves. His majesty must be shaped like a dwarf—that's quite necessary; but when he is lifted to the throne, the creatures heap upon him all sorts of wondrous gifts. They teach him to play the fiddle, flute, and clarinet like an angel. They put him up to the art of manufacturing wonderful clocks—of eclipsing the sun and moon, and all that kind of thing. They once had a dwarf king, a shoemaker, and that fellow never had his equal. Whenever he took it into his head, he would sit down, call for seventy thousand skins, and then set to work. How long do you suppose he was getting them out of hand? Why, in just one hour and a half the whole stock was manufactured. Shoes, gaiters, spatterdashes, jack-boots and bluchers for five hundred thousand men, and all their wives and children. You may believe it. There never was a chap that flung the things about as he did. And you may take my word for it, Klaus Stringstriker could do something too, if he chose. Why do you think he is so insolent and conceited, and presumes so much upon his playing and smoking? Why—just because these little earthmen are his familiars, and back him up in every thing!'

"'Oh, that's it—is it?' said Simon dryly. 'Klaus is King of the Dwarfs, is he? Then if that's the case, he shall perform a trick for us directly. Now I give you all warning, young and old, not to stop his pipe, or fill his glass again, till he fiddles himself into a fit, and glass and pipe replenish themselves!'

"Klaus remonstrated against the proceeding—but the guests were brimful of fun and mischief, and wouldn't listen to him. It was evident that nothing would satisfy the company but the exhibition of the misery to which they resolved to subject the unhappy knave forthwith. The Dwarf implored, threatened, cursed; he struck about him like a madman, screamed, roared, and struggled to escape; all in vain. The untractable little fellow was held fast, and then, amidst the jokes and gibes of the assembly, securely tied, with his fiddle in his hand, against the roof-tree of the room. Once pinned, there was no use in further resistance. The poor deformed creature had nothing better to do than to play, as commanded.

"And he did play, so touchingly and heartbreakingly, that the listeners were very soon in agonies before him. The eyes of the Dwarf rolled like little fire-balls in their cells—his cheeks grew paler and paler, and cold sweat poured down in a stream from his forehead. Nevertheless, he fiddled away incessantly—now merrily, now mournfully, now slowly, now quicker than ever. Every dancer had reason that night to thank his stars, if he left off without having thrown himself into a phthisic; for, when he once began, it was as easy for him to fly into the air as to come to a stand-still, until it pleased Klaus Stringstriker to make a pause with his fiddle.

"The horrible jest lasted till towards midnight, and then the tormentors were willing to grant their victim some indulgence. The fiddler was unbound, and he would have had to eat and drink, and his own dear pipe of tobacco would have been restored to him, had not the company immediately perceived to their astonishment that both his pipe and glass stood already filled before him, although not a single soul amongst them had lifted or touched either one or the other. If the guests had been riotous before, they were hushed and quiet enough now. And Klaus, too, struck up another tune instanter. He bowed ironically to the assembly, emptied his glass, lit his pipe, and tucked his fiddle under his arm.

"'Thank you, gossip!' said he, 'thank you kindly for your christening. I have enjoyed every thing—thoroughly; your compliments, your beer, your tobacco, and your sport! Rest assured, Mike, I shall quit scores with you, in good time, for all. As to my little godchild, you'll be pleased to call the boy Nicholas, that is to say, if you are not tired of your life. For yourself, Twirling-stick Mike,' he continued with a frown, 'depend upon it, you shall be settled, all in good time, very comfortably amongst my children. Meanwhile, Fare-you-well!'

"And with these words, the little fellow, repeating his scornful obeisance, hobbled away. He was heard to strike up a lively air, and some of the guests, whose curiosity took them out of doors, averred that he cut across the fields with supernatural swiftness, whilst there glittered around him a bright tremulous light, in which at times the tiniest phantoms were distinguishable.

"Whether this statement were really true, or whether a mere imagination, came never to be rightly known; and it is most likely that nothing more would have been said about it, if, on the following morning, the report had not run like a fire through the village, that the Dwarf-piper, in the night, had come to an untimely end, and was then lying as dead as mutton on Twirling-stick Mike's farm and field, with his fiddle jammed under his broad chin, and the bow still resting on the strings. Half the village, headed by the authorities, sallied forth upon the intelligence. Simon, you may be certain, was not long in following—and sure enough, there lay the poor Dwarf, dead upon the ground. His head was half immersed in the Dwarf's Well, which, in the dark, he had probably not observed. But whether or not, Klaus Stringstriker had been upset, and had stumbled, poor wretch, upon his death!

"It was very natural for Twirling-stick Mike to repent him suddenly of his wanton cruelty. The scoffing words of the dwarf rang in his ears, and he felt by no means easy. To make what amends he might to the deceased, he had him sumptuously buried at his own expense, with funeral oration, psalms, prayer, and benediction; and what is more, put up a very pretty monument to his memory, which, in very legible characters, made known the talents and virtues of the fiddler, and carried them down to remote posterity. The Dwarf, however, was scarcely in his grave, before all manner of strange reports were whispered about in the neighbourhood. In the first place, Twirling-stick Mike's garden was said to be haunted o' nights. Noises were heard and lights seen on the path crossing his fields; and you had only to stray into the vicinity of the Dwarf's Well to be forsaken at once of seeing and hearing. If Simon enquired more particularly into these worrying rumours, every body professed to know nothing at all of the matter. One man referred him to his neighbour, and he to the next; who, in his turn, protested that the whole was a heap of lies; or said any thing that seemed most likely to appease the farmer's anxious state of mind. Simon, troubled as he was by the absurd babbling of the people, was nevertheless unable to suppress it, or prevent its growth. Indeed there was a small chance of its diminishing, when, in less than two months, there was not a soul in the neighbourhood who could not swear that he had been a witness to most unearthly doings. There was no need of further mystery, of doubtful head-shaking, and ominous whispers—every one had seen Klaus Stringstriker near Twirling-stick Mike's house, playing his fiddle in the clear light of the moon. It was true, none could aver that he had heard a single note; but it was impossible to mistake his figure, and that had been seen, time after time, gliding in from the adjoining field, making the tour of Simon's house, and exhibiting all the gesticulations of a violin-player. Many affirmed, too, that the fiddler was followed by a swarm of fluttering lights causing an odd noise, like nothing so much as the multitudinous clacking of little hammers. If the Dwarf and his luminous retinue encountered any one, he stood still until the latter had passed, and then quietly pursued his road. The more inquisitive who had ventured to steal after the apparition, swore deep and high that the Dwarf and his lights had gone hissing into the well that stood upon Twirling-stick Mike's land, and then the ghostly procession altogether ceased.

"Simon gave himself a deal of trouble to witness some of these remarkable things; but he met with nothing; and accordingly, seeing that the ghost of the dead sponsor in no way molested him, he permitted the people to chatter on as they would. His indifference, indeed, had nearly reduced all disagreeable rumours to silence, when another very sensible unpleasantness took rise under his own roof.

"Young Klaus could hardly run alone before he manifested a most undesirable faculty of seeing spirits. It grew with his years; and at last it came to pass that no day or night went by upon which he had not something very extraordinary to relate. The occurrences certainly were chiefly of that nature that it required a most resolute and unbounded— an absolute Christianly-simple faith to believe them: and since the majority of Klaus's auditors were not excessively that way disposed, the accounts of the boy were held for so much downright swagger; and the poor ghost-seer acquired, to the no small vexation of his parent, the unenviable nickname of Mike's Lying Klaus. It was very singular, however, and could not fail to be remarked by every reflecting mind, that all the stories related by young Nicholas were in close connexion with the notorious well belonging to his father. There it was that he saw prodigious flames blazing forth, gold burning, and dances performed by the most grotesque and strangely-shaped little creatures. Passing this spot, earth, sand, glass, and even silver-pieces, would strike him on the head, without doing him the slightest injury. If he led his waggon by the spring, his good horses had to strain and torture themselves for a full quarter of an hour before they could draw the empty wain from the spot. The wheels seemed to have been locked and set fast, and yet the slightest hindrance could not be detected.

"Even to these incidents the ageing Simon had, by degrees, accustomed himself; but at length, and all on a sudden, it became his own frightful lot to perceive that his fine property was diminishing—yes, daily and hourly dropping and dropping away from him. He lived economically, as he had always done, even to parsimoniousness. The produce of his land, the income from his twirling-stick trade, were as satisfactory as could be— both improving! How could it happen then? Simon made known his misery to his neighbours, craved counsel from his pastor. Each chucked in his farthing's worth of wisdom; but it availed him nothing. In the meanwhile, the strapping youth grew every day more and more a ghost-seer; and the Dwarf was said to beset the premises of the farmer nightly. Simon, at all events to show a reason in his complaints, building upon these facts, boldly cast upon his son the imputation of robbing him. Violent scenes ensued between the two—they quarrelled and wrangled from morning till night; and at length, upon Simon's refusing his assent to the marriage of his hulking boy with a very honest, but at the same time somewhat uncouth and very poor girl—went bodily to law.

"Whilst father and son were valiantly tugging against each other in court, the lawyers gleefully rubbing their hands over the case, and many a good joint flying into their larders from the stalls of Twirling-stick Mike, the substance of the honest farmer underwent rapid decay. His neighbours, soon aware that Simon had falsely taxed his son, cleared up the question, as folks in such cases are fain to do, with suppositions and surmises. They gave out that the Dwarfs were gnawing away his fortune; every body believed it, and from that moment forward, he was a marked and doomed man.

"As the belief became general, Simon grew irritable and wild. He cursed, and stormed, and raved, till his people trembled for their master's reason. Vexation ate his flesh away, and Avarice, which had gained entire possession of His soul, drove him restlessly about in the endeavour to save and to secure as much as still remained to him. At night, with his sullenly-burning lamp, he sped from room to room, bearing in his two quivering hands leathern purses of money; then shutting himself up in the most secret of his hiding-places, he counted his dollars again and again—and with such haste and fear, that the cold sweat dropped from him as he laboured. Horrible to relate, as often as he added the same sums together, so often he found the total less. Oh, it was like nothing else than the devil's own game; for the money, unperceived by mortal eye, melted in the pure air!

"Unfortunately for Simon, he was a man of violent passions, and on one occasion his fury betrayed him into blasphemous exclamations. Sadly beside himself, he swore, with a most fearful oath, that he was ready and willing to make over body and soul to the devil, or even to his old gossip the fiddler, provided either of them would undertake to restore to him the mass of wealth that had so unaccountably escaped from him.

"There is an old proverb that runs—'Give the devil your little finger, and he will take your whole hand.' And the truth of this saying Simon was now about to experience; for he had scarcely brought his impious words to a close, before the fiddler popped into his presence, too willing to enter into any arrangement which the reckless farmer was silly enough to propose. 'Here I am, gossip!' said the cunning little rascal with well-assumed affability, 'and ready to do your will. Not that I shall ask your body and soul. I am not so greedy. Bequeath me your head at your death, you shall have all you ask, and I'll be satisfied.'

"'Go to the devil, you bandy-legged monster!' screamed Michael in his fury, poking his lamp at the same time under the Dwarf's beard, so that the vapoury phantom was nigh being in a blaze.