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HARBOR OF ALEXANDRIA.

sharply for not having gone into the harbor on the evening of the 5th. An English brig which was nearly alongside of us that evening, got in safe. Our vessel having been seen off shore on the 5th, and nothing since having been heard from us for nearly three days, we had been given up at Alexandria as lost. Our appearance again on the coast was greeted with joy by many.

The harbor of Alexandria is dangerous and difficult to enter. The channel is narrow, and the water breaks and foams over huge rocks on both sides. We came to anchor near the Pacha's fleet, a short distance south-west of the seraglio, at 4 o'clock, P. M. All now was perfect hurly-burly in getting baggage into boats. We were first pushed one way and then another, by boatmen who had come on board, the language of whom was entire gibberish to me. An agent from one of the French hotels was at hand. To him we committed our baggage, and were soon put in a boat for shore. We passed through the Pacha's fleet, which was lying at anchor. It made quite a formidable appearance, consisting of several large ships of the line and many frigates. Bands of music were playing on board, and every thing seemed to partake of life and vivacity.

On arriving at the shore, a worse state of confusion ensued. A crowd gathered at the place of our landing, and here were men with camels, mules, donkeys, and such means of conveyance as Alexandria affords. One pushed one way, and another in the opposite direction, all talking at once, and each exerting himself to make the most noise. The agent from the hotel caned more than one before we got our bag

gage on shore. This process reminded me that I was now in Egypt, and under a despotic government. Our baggage was first conveyed to the custom-house, where we expected to have it much rummaged and closely inspected. Only one trunk of the company, however, was opened, and the contents of that were not disturbed. We were made to understand that if we would hand over a little bucksheesh (present), our baggage would not be detained for inspection, but otherwise it would be kept over night. So much for the trustiness of the Pacha's publicans. We very readily consented to the proposition, and had our baggage conveyed to the Hotel d'Français, in the Frank quarters, about a mile from our landing place. I mounted a donkey, which by the way, is an Egyptian ass, about tall enough to keep the feet of the rider from coming in contact with the ground. The owner of the donkey ran behind, lashing up the animal in a rough manner. I pitied the poor brute, but was unable to make the master understand that I wished to go slower. The donkey knew every turn, (and we turned every thirty or forty yards,) passing through narrow and filthy streets, till we arrived at the grand square in the Frank quarters.

In approaching the harbor of Alexandria, the first prominent objects that strike the eye, are the immense number of wind-mills. These, facing the sea, stretch round the entire harbor. The seraglio occupies a prominent and airy position, and is seen to good advantage in entering the harbor. It is spacious, and has considerable elegance about it; but its very name must render it odious to the Christian, Besides what we saw on our entrance of the harbor,

an excursion to Pompey's Pillar and Cleopatra's Needles, situated as they are at opposite points, gave us a cursory view of nearly all that is worthy of note in the fallen city of Alexander the Great.

Pompey's Pillar is said to have once occupied the centre of Alexandria, when that city was in its glory. Now it not only stands without the gates, but at a considerable walk even from the suburbs of the city. Not that the monument has been removed, but the city has receded, till Pompey's Pillar now stands towering in loneliness, on a slight eminence, between the present city and the Lake Mareotis. On our way we passed a spacious Mohammedan burial-ground. It was about three hours before the setting of the sun. A large number of Mohammedans, male and female, were either walking among the graves or seated upon them, making a mournful, howling noise. It is a practice among the Egyptians to pay frequent visits to the graves of departed relatives, and there wail over their mouldering remains. The Mussulman faith certainly inculcates great veneration for their dead, and a very peculiar familiarity with death. This was the first scene of the kind I had witnessed, and to me it had a very sombre appearance.

Pompey's Pillar is a single column of finely-polished red granite, seventy-three feet high, and a little over nine feet in diameter. It stands on a pedestal of the same material, which measures about fifteen feet on each side. The pedestal stands on a sub-structure of mason-work, which at present appears to be slowly falling to pieces. The entire erection is surmounted by a well-wrought Corinthian capital, of corresponding proportions. All these parts reckoned to

CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLES.

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gether, make the entire column a little over one hundred feet in height. The shaft is beautiful and smooth, shining in the sun-beams like burnished steel, except parts which have been shamefully daubed up with English names. Here it has firmly stood, braving the storms that have beaten upon it for more than two thousand years, and here it yet stands. But should its sub-structure not soon be repaired, it would not be surprising to hear that this beautiful work of antiquity had fallen to rise no more. From the eminence where this monument stands, a grand view is had of the Mahmoudieh canal, the Lake Mareotes, and of the vast Lybian desert stretching beyond.

From this place we rode over and by fragments of ruins, back to the gate of the city through which we had made our egress. Taking the direction of Cleopatra's Needles, we stopped for a moment at the celebrated wells, made in the time of Alexander, at the very founding of the city. They are still in use and afford much water. The Needle of Cleopatra now standing, is a granite obelisk, rising to the height of sixty feet, and suddenly sharpening at the top. It is covered on all sides with hieroglyphics. On the side facing the Desert, and on which the sirocco has beaten for many centuries, the characters are nearly obliterated; while on the other sides they stand out fresh and fair. A few yards from this lies the prostrate brother, and partly buried in the sand. It is said to have been taken down many years ago, for the purpose of removing it to England, but that the Pacha finally refused to have it taken away. It is about the size of the standing one, and like it covered with characters, which only mock the sciences of the present day.

In the immediate vicinity of Cleopatra's Needles, I noticed a long range of miserable clay huts. No human habitations can possibly present more of degradation and extreme wretchedness, than were there seen. We were told by our guide, that these were houses for the soldiers' families. They appeared to be wholly constructed of clay, with slight coverings of reeds and straw with the bare earth to sit or lie on. Women and children of the most filthy and squalid appearance, were either seated or wandering among these miserable kennels, for they deserve no better I have seen many Indian wigwams in the American forest, but nothing like the degraded picture of extreme wretchedness seen among these cells in Alexandria and other parts of Egypt. These dens of wretchedness abound in all the suburb parts of that city.

name.

Round the outskirts of the city are constantly seen a large number of dogs, seemingly wild, and without owners. They wholly subsist on carrion and other offal, and are very fierce and savage in their appearance. I could not but remark the striking similarity between the dogs of Egypt and the American wolves. While standing by the side of Pompey's Pillar, I counted, within the range of a few rods on the plain below, thirty-three dogs; and I presume I might have counted one hundred on the open space around the eminence where I was then standing. They were howling and barking in the midst of carcasses of camels and horses, on which they fed. Their legs and mouths besmeared with blood, gave them a wild and barbarous appearance. These, with vultures, buzzards and crows, devour the offal of the city.