never rebuilt; and that the Lord
would make it to be like the top of a scraped rock to spread nets
upon.

The city was taken and destroyed. The people moved to an island just
off the mainland and there built a new city. Two hundred and fifty
years after Ezekiel made his prophecy, Alexander came, besieged the
new city; and, in order to take it, built a causeway from the
mainland. In doing this he tore down and utterly demolished the
ruins of the old city; took its stones and timber and cast them into
the sea; and then, actually, set his soldiers to work to scrape the
very dust that he might empty it into the waters. From the hour when
it was overthrown to this, the city has never been rebuilt; and for
centuries it has been, and is to-day, like _the top of a scraped
rock_--a place where _fishermen spread their nets_.

Where did Ezekiel get this knowledge?

Certainly not from man.

It will not do to say he guessed it!

Egypt was a land of cities and temples. The cities were populous,
the temples and monuments colossal. Avenues of gigantic sphynx led
to gateways whose immense thresholds opened into pillared halls,
where the carved columns seemed like a forest of stone. Pyramids
rose as mountains, and their alabaster-covered sides flashed back
the splendor of the cloudless skies. The land bloomed as a garden.
The papyrus grew by the banks of the Nile. The fisheries of the
mighty river filled the treasury of kings with a ceaseless income.
Art, literature, knowledge and culture were enthroned supreme--yet
was it a land of false gods and a people given over to their
worship.

Speaking in the name of God the prophet announced the coming
desolation of Egypt. It should be cast down. Its fisheries should be
destroyed, its papyrus withered, its cities and temples overthrown
and the ruins scattered over the plain, no native prince should ever
again sit upon its throne, it should become the basest of kingdoms.

It has become such.

Its cities are destroyed. Its temples are roofless, its columns
fallen, the statues of its kings lie face downward in the dust, the
pyramids, stripped and bare, stand scarred and silent in the sun.
The singing Memnon are as songless from their chiselled lips as the
tongueless Sphynx half buried in the yellow sand. The fisheries are
gone, the papyrus has withered; for centuries no native prince has
been seated on the throne. It is a land of the dead. The dead are
everywhere. At every step you st