ypt even by a rapid, two flat strips of green
plain at its side, two low lines of straight-topped hills beyond them,
and a boundless open space where the river divides itself into half a
dozen sluggish branches before reaching the sea, constitute Egypt, which
is by nature a southern Holland---"weary, stale, flat and unprofitable."
The monotony is relieved, however, in two ways, and by two causes.
Nature herself does something to relieve it Twice a day, in the morning
and in the evening, the sky and the landscape are lit up by hues so
bright yet so delicate, that the homely features of the prospect are at
once transformed as by magic, and wear an aspect of exquisite beauty. At
dawn long streaks of rosy light stretch themselves across the eastern
sky, the haze above the western horizon blushes a deep red; a ruddy
light diffuses itself around, and makes walls and towers and minarets
and cupolas to glow like fire; the long shadows thrown by each tree and
building are purple or violet. A glamour is over the scene, which seems
transfigured by an enchanter's wand; but the enchanter is Nature, and
the wand she wields is composed of sun-rays. Again, at eve, nearly the
same effects are produced as in the morning, only with a heightened
effect; "the redness of flames" passes into "the redness of roses"--the
wavy cloud that fled in the morning comes into sight once more--comes
blushing, yet still comes on--comes burning with blushes, and clings to
the Sun-god's side.[3]

Night brings a fresh transfiguration. The olive after-glow gives place
to a deep blue-grey. The yellow moon rises into the vast expanse. A
softened light diffuses itself over earth and sky. The orb of night
walks in brightness through a firmament of sapphire; or, if the moon is
below the horizon, then the purple vault is lit up with many-coloured
stars. Silence profound reigns around. A phase of beauty wholly
different from that of the day-time smites the sense; and the monotony
of feature is forgiven to the changefulness of expression, and to the
experience of a new delight.

Man has also done his part to overcome the dulness and sameness that
brood over the "land of Mizraim." Where nature is most tame and
commonplace, man is tempted to his highest flights of audacity. As in
the level Babylonia he aspired to build a tower that should "reach to
heaven" (Gen. xi. 4), so in Egypt he strove to startle and surprise by
gigantic works, enormous undertakings, enterprises