foot of the consul's house. I might have applied to myself the reflections of Eudore, if an author be allowed to quote his own work :

saw

"The dismal murmur of the sea was the first sound that greeted my ear on coming into the world: upon how many shores have I since beheld these same billows breaking, which I here contemplate! Who would have supposed, a few years ago, that I should hear those waves, which I sporting on the fine sands of Messenia, roaring on the coasts of Italy, on the shores of the Batavi, of the Bretons and of Gaul! Where will be the end of my pereginations? Happy should I have been, had death overtaken me before I set out on my travels through the world, and when I had yet no adventures to relate."*

During my compulsory stay at Alexandria, I received several letters from M. Caffe, my brave companion in the voyage up and down the Nile. I shall give an extract from one, dated Rosetta, November 14, 1806, as it contains a few particulars relative to the affairs of Egypt at that period:

"Mohamed Aga,† the present treasurer of Mohamed Ali, pacha of Cairo, arrived here about noon it is reported that he demands a contribution of five hundred purses upon the new rice. So you see things get worse and worse.

The village where the Mamelukes defeated the Albanians, and which both of them plundered, is called Nekle: the name of that where we were attacked by the Arabs is Saffi.”

On the 23d of November, at noon, the wind

* Les Martyrs.

† Mohamed Aga, the chief of the Albanians, struck wit lustre of a great name, has added that of the Emperor to his own.

EMBARK FOR TUNIS.

199

having become favourable, I went on board with my French servant. I took leave of M. Drovetti on the shore, and we once more promised each other remembrance and friendship. Our ship lay at anchor in the great harbour of Alexandria, where Christian vessels are now admitted as well as Turkish : a revolution owing to our arms. I found on board a rabbi from Jerusalem, a native of Barbary, and two poor Moors of Morocco, perhaps descendants of the Abencerrages, returning from a pilgrimage to Mecca. They begged their passage of me as a charity. I received the children of Israel and Mahomet in the name of Jesus Christ. In reality, I could claim no great merit on this account, for I took it into my head that these poor creatures would bring me good luck.

At two o'clock we weighed anchor. A pilot steered us out of the port. We had but very little wind, and that from the south. We continued three days within sight of Pompey's pillar, which we perceived at the horizon. At length, on the third day, the evening gun of the port of Alexandria seemed to give the signal for our final departure; a breeze sprung up from the north, and we made sail to the west. We first attempted to cross the great Gulf of Libya, but the wind, which before was not very favourable, shifted to the north-west on the 29th of November, and we were obliged to stand out between Crete and the coast of Africa.

On the 1st of December, the wind settling in the west, completely obstructed our farther progress. It got round by degrees to the south-west, and increased to a tempest, which lasted till our arrival at Tunis. The remainder of our voyage was but a kind of incessant shipwreck, for the

long space of forty-two days. On the 3d we took in all the sails, and began to scud before the wind. In this manner we were carried with prodigious violence to the very coast of Caramania: there, for four whole days, I had abundant leisure to survey the dreary and elevated summits of the Cragus, enveloped in clouds. We kept beating about, and endeavouring, on the slightest variation of the wind, to get out to sea. We had, for a moment, some thoughts of going into the harbour of Chateau Rouge; but the captain, who was extremely timorous, durst not trust himself in those roads. The night of the 8th was very trying: a sudden squall from the south drove us towards the island of Rhodes: the sea ran so high as to strain the ship exceedingly. We descried a small Greek felucca half under water, to which we could afford no assistShe passed within a cable's length of our The crew, consisting of four men, were on their knees upon deck: they had hung a lantern to their mast, and their lamentable cries were wafted to us by the winds. Next morning we saw nothing of this falucca.

ance. stern.

The wind having shifted to the north, we hoisted the fore-sail, and endeavoured to keep to the southward of Rhodes. We made the island of Scarpanto. On the 10th the wind again changed to the west, and we lost all hopes of being able to pursue our course. I wished the captain to relinquish his design of crossing the Gulf of Libya, and to bear away for the Archipelago, where we might expect to meet with other winds; but he was afraid to venture among the islands. We had already been seventeen days at sea. I employed myself in writing out and arranging the notes for these Travels; and at night I walked the deck with the

mate. The nights passed on the bosom of the deep, in a ship battered by the tempest, are not barren for the mind; exalted ideas spring from grand objects. The stars, which appear for a moment between the fleeting clouds; the billows sparkling around you; the hollow sound returned by the sides of the vessel to the dashing waves, all proclaim that you are out of the power of man, and dependant on the will of the Almighty alone. The uncertainty of your future prospects reduces objects to their true value; and the world, contemplated amidst a tempestuous sea, resembles life considered by a man on the brink of eternity.

After twenty times ploughing the same billows, we again found ourselves, on the 12th, off the island of Scarpanto. This island, formerly called Carpathos, and by Homer Crapathos, gave its name to the Carpathian Sea. A few lines of Virgil now constitute all its celebrity.

Est in Carpathio Neptuni gurgite vates
Caruleus Proteus, &c.

In the Carpathian bottom makes abode

The shepherd of the seas, a prophet, and a god.
High o'er the main in wat'ry pomp he rides,

His azure car and finny coursers guides:
Proteus his name; to his Pallenian port
I see from far the weary god resort.
Him not alone we river gods adore,
But aged Nereus hearkens to his lore.
With sure foresight, and with unerring doom,
He sees what is, and was, and is to come.
This Neptune gave him when he gave to keep
His scaly flocks that graze the watʼry deep.*

I should not go, if I could, to reside in the island of Proteus, notwithstanding the fine verses of the Georgics. I can still figure to myself the miserable villages of Anchinates, Horo, and St.

Georg. IV. translated by Dryden.

Helia, which we descried with our glasses in the mountains of the island. I have not, like Menelaus and Aristæus, lost my kingdom or my bees; I have nothing to expect from the future, and I leave to the son of Neptune secrets which cannot interest me.

On the 12th, at six in the evening, the wind turning to the south, I persuaded the captain, with some difficulty, to steer to leeward of the island of Crete. At nine he said, according to custom, Ho paura! and retired to bed. M. Dinelli resolved to attempt the channel formed by the islands of Scarpanto and Coxo. We entered it with a violent south-west wind. At dawn of day we found ourselves among an archipelago of islets, and surrounded with breakers. We resolved to put into the harbour of the island of Stampalia, which was a-head of us.

This dull port had neither ships upon its waters nor houses upon its shores. We perceived only a village, perched as usual on the summit of a rock. We came to an anchor, and I went on shore with the captain. While he proceeded to the village, I explored the interior of the island. I saw nothing but heaths, rills of water running over moss, and the sea breaking against the rocks which girded the coast. The ancients, nevertheless, gave to this island the appellation of Ev Tρáлeça, the Table of the Gods, on account of the flowers with which it was enamelled. It is better known by the name of Astypalea, and contained a temple consecrated to Achilles. In the wretched hamlet of Stampalia there are, in all probability, very happy peoplepeople who perhaps have never been out of their native isle, and never heard of our revolutions. I asked myself if I should have wished for their