bust of Memnon, now in the British Museum. Belzoni, I believe,
lived for some time in Mr. Salt's house, which afterwards became the
property of the French Government, and was known as the _Maison de
France_; it was pulled down in 1884 when the great temple of Luxor was
excavated by M. Maspero. My late friend Miss A. B. Edwards wrote a
description of his work in the _Illustrated London News_, from which I
give a few extracts:

'Squatters settled upon the temple like a swarm of mason bees; and
the extent of the mischief they perpetrated in the course of
centuries may be gathered from the fact that they raised the level of
the surrounding soil to such a height that the obelisks, the colossi,
and the entrance pylon were buried to a depth of 40 feet, while
inside the building the level of the native village was 50 feet above
the original pavement. Seven months ago the first court contained
not only the local mosque, but a labyrinthine maze of mud structures,
numbering some thirty dwellings, and eighty strawsheds, besides
yards, stables, and pigeon-towers, the whole being intersected by
innumerable lanes and passages. Two large mansions--real mansions,
spacious and, in Arab fashion, luxurious,--blocked the great
Colonnade of Horembebi; while the second court, and all the open
spaces and ruined parts of the upper end of the Temple, were
encumbered by sheepfolds, goat-yards, poultry-yards, donkey-sheds,
clusters of mud huts, refuse-heaps, and piles of broken pottery.
Upon the roof of the portico there stood a large, rambling, ruinous
old house, the property of the French Government, and known as the
"Maison de France" . . . Within its walls the illustrious
Champollion and his ally Rosellini lived and worked together in 1829,
during part of their long sojourn at Thebes. Here the naval officers
sent out by the French in 1831 to remove the obelisk which now stands
in the Place de la Concorde took up their temporary quarters. And
here, most interesting to English readers, Lady Duff Gordon lingered
through some of her last winters, and wrote most of her delightful
"Letters from Egypt." A little balcony with a broken veranda and a
bit of lattice-work parapet, juts out above some mud walls at the end
of the building. Upon that balcony she was wont to sit in the cool
of the evening, watching the boats upon the ri