necropolis in perfect preservation, except with
the usual absence of the lower jaw. The shape
is singularly beautiful and finely organised. It
is small, and such teeth as remain are white and
perfectly sound, leading to the conclusion that
it is the skull of a woman, quite young, yet
arrived at early womanhood, from the fact that
one of the wisdom-teeth is cut, and the other
just piercing the bone of the gum. In addition
to the beautifully-balanced form of the skull, the
shape of the orbits of the eyes, the shortness of
the upper lip, and the general delicacy of the
modelling even of the bones of the face, are
suggestive of loveliness, and as the white
smooth softly-rounded cranium of my Greek
beauty, as I am persuaded she was, reposes on a
shelf in my sanctum between those of a man of
these days, of fair ordinary development, and of
an idiot, frontless and hideous, one sees, not
without surprise, how great is the folly of the
old saying that beauty is only skin deep.

Some of the party being fatigued, proceeded
the shortest way home, but Dr. S. having
mentioned some interesting Roman remains along
the coast, which there would be just light
enough to see, the rest of us decided on that
route.

The beach here is narrow, covered with ledges
of sharp rocks difficult to pick one's way among,
and bounded landward by frowning rugged dark
cliffs, and in some places by giant fragments of
Roman masonry, some standing, some fallen,
but holding together in vast blocks as though
nothing less than the crack of doom could
crumble them. These are chiefly the ruins of
baths; the remains of the passage from the
buildings down to the water is still visible, and
faintly gleaming through the waves may be seen
the white marble pavement on which the
luxurious bathers trod.

And now we had seen all, and the rapid twilight
was merging into darkness, and quite silent
we went our way homeward by the moaning
sea. Suddenly a scarlet flash rent the blackening
horizon, and a low sullen reverberation came
across the sea.

It was the evening gun from the fort built
out at the mouth of the harbour. We were amid
civilisation again. Will the sound of the cannon
be considered emblematic of civilisation at the
end of a third thousand of years? A climb up
a bank, a short ride across a patch of desert,
and we were once more in the streets of modern
Alexandria, with its new ruins, its dilapidated
dwellings, its dogs, its dirt, and its festivities.
To one of these festivities I went in the evening.
What a contrast it presented to our morning
excursion!

We started about ten o'clock, and, once out
of the town, found ourselves in the midst of a
tide of carriages all flowing in the same direction
—many of them preceded by saïses, running
Arab grooms, carrying meschals*—towards the
villa of Count X——- , the founder of the feast,
who lived a little way out of Alexandria, on the
banks of the canal. The effect was strangely
picturesque. Through the black night, which
was pitch dark, would come dashing by the
flying figure with its swarthy face and white
garments, brought out strongly by the red light of
the flaring meschal, scattering flakes of fire as
it passed; and again the darkness swallowed it
up and it was gone, though the dancing torch
and its fiery wake marked its course through
the obscurity.

* A sort of torch, consisting of an iron basket
filled with some resinous compound, borne on the top
of a pole.

A night drive out of the town is not unattended
with danger, from the infamous condition of the
roads, the wholly unprotected state of the
borders of the canal the cause of many accidents
and the mode of driving of Arab arrabagees,
or coachmen, who have a liberal easy sort of
fashion of giving their horses the run of both
sides of the road and the middle of the road, and
who, in return, claim neither as a right when
passing or meeting other vehicles, but leave it to
Allah to decide whether a collision shall or shall
not result.

Some of the Alexandrians add to these risks
that of robbers, but this peril seemed to me
imaginary, though the fear of it kept some of
the guests away. I may state, however, that
most of the invited were Greeks.

Arrived at the gate of the garden, in the
midst of which the house stood, the usual scene
of confusion attendant upon any approach to a
throng of carriages awaited us. No Arab,
whether mounted or on foot, has the remotest idea
of getting out of the way, and no blue-liveried
policeman is here to compel him to get out of the
way. The dire and hopeless crush and cram and
aimless excitement that ensue may be imagined.
Horses plunge, carriages crash, arrabagees flog
shriek and swear, saïses dash about frantically,
tugging at the heads of the fiery little Arabs,
and making matters worse by scattering flames
from their meschals among the crowd. At last,
chiefly by dint of the coolness of our English
coachman, we get safely landed, and one step
within the precincts of the garden changes the
whole scene.

The early December night is as mild and sweet
as a June night in England, and through its
solemn gloom rise up the rich odours of unknown
flowers. The sky-blue mansion, showing only
its broad facade, its columned terrace to which
you mount by broad easy flights of carpeted
stairs, and its large lighted windows, looks like
an Italian palace. Under the portico stand a
group of gentlemen in ball costume and bare-
headed, two of whom, though strangers to us,
bow, and offer us their arms, which we (" we"
are ladies), of course, accept. We are led into the
vast hall, where they take off our cloaks, and
where we are presented with bouquets of roses,
scented geranium, double joenquils, and myrtle.
Then, repeating the bows, they return to their
posts. These gentlemen are a kind of stewards
of the fete—generally relations, or it may be
intimate friends of the host, and deputed by him
to perform this ceremony; which appeared to me