n pictures, which are so often seen delineated on canvas.

Egypt has only her ruins, her antiquity, her Biblical associations to
give her interest with the world at large. Japan is infinitely to be
preferred in any light of contemplation; China, even, rivals her in all
natural advantages; and India is much more inviting. In looking at Egypt
we must forget her present and recall her past. The real Egypt is not
the vast territory which we shall find laid down by the geographers,
reaching to the Indian Ocean, the Red Sea, and embracing equatorial
regions; it is and was, even in the days of the Pharaohs and Ptolomies,
the valley of the Nile, from the First Cataract to the Mediterranean
Sea, hemmed in by the Libyan and Arabian deserts. From hence came to
the rest of the world so much of art, science, and philosophy; and here
were built those time-defying monuments which to-day challenge the
wonder of the world.

The native Egyptian, the fellah, he who tills the soil, who cultivates
by irrigation and gathers the rich crops of the valley, is of a fine and
industrious race, well-built, broad-chested, and always of lithe frame,
altogether a fine looking and vigorous figure. He has a manly, oval
face, a broad brow, and a bronzed complexion, with brilliant eyes, fine
teeth, and naturally luxuriant beard. He is the same figure his
ancestors were six thousand years ago, as represented on the tombs and
temples of Thebes, and on the slabs of Gizeh in the Museum at Cairo. He
still performs his work in the nineteenth century just as he did before
the days of Moses, scattering the seed and working the shadoof. He is
little seen in the cities; his place is in the field; there he lives and
thrives. Though his native land has found such various masters in Greek
and Roman, Arab and Turk, he has never lost his individuality. He has
ever been, and is to-day, the same historic Egyptian. If he were a horse
in place of a man, we should say of him that he was of a pure,
uncontaminated breed. The women when young are very handsome, beauty
being the first present Nature gives them and the first she takes away.
They are exquisite in form, and with a most graceful gait, common to
nearly all Eastern women, who, from childhood, carry jars of water upon
their heads, thus inducing the perfection of carriage. It made us feel
almost angry to see them tattooed, their nostrils and ears pierced with
rings, and awkwardly bedecked with cheap jewelry, like their