wishes for thee!’ He added gifts to these obliging
words. I placed all these on board the vessel
which had come, and prostrating myself, I adored him.
He said to me: ’After two months thou shalt
reach thy country, thou wilt press thy children to
thy bosom, and thou shalt rest in thy sepulchre.’
After that I descended the shore to the vessel, and
I hailed the sailors who were in it. I gave thanks
on the shore to the master of the island, as well
as to those who dwelt in it.” This might
almost be an episode in the voyages of Sindbad the
Sailor; except that the monsters which Sindbad met
with in the course of his travels were not of such
a kindly disposition as the Egyptian serpent:
it did not occur to them to console the shipwrecked
with the charm of a lengthy gossip, but they swallowed
them with a healthy appetite. Putting aside entirely
the marvellous element in the story, what strikes
us is the frequency of the relations which it points
to between Egypt and Puanit. The appearance of
an Egyptian vessel excites no astonishment on its
coasts: the inhabitants have already seen many
such, and at such regular intervals, that they are
able to predict the exact date of their arrival.
The distance between the two countries, it is true,
was not considerable, and a voyage of two months was
sufficient to accomplish it. While the new Egypt
was expanding outwards in all directions, the old country
did not cease to add to its riches. The two centuries
during which the XIIth dynasty continued to rule were
a period of profound peace; the monuments show us
the country in full possession of all its resources
and its arts, and its inhabitants both cheerful and
contented. More than ever do the great lords
and royal officers expatiate in their epitaphs upon
the strict justice which they have rendered to their
vassals and subordinates, upon the kindness which
they have shown to the fellahin, on the paternal solicitude
with which, in the years of insufficient inundations
or of bad harvests, they have striven to come forward
and assist them, and upon the unheard-of disinterestedness
which kept them from raising the taxes during the
times of average Niles, or of unusual plenty.
Gifts to the gods poured in from one end of the country
to the other, and the great building works, which
had been at a standstill since the end of the VIth
dynasty, were recommenced simultaneously on all sides.
There was much to be done in the way of repairing the
ruins, of which the number had accumulated during
the two preceding centuries. Not that the most
audacious kings had ventured to lay their hands on
the sanctuaries: they emptied the sacred treasuries,
and partially confiscated their revenues, but when
once their cupidity was satisfied, they respected
the fabrics, and even went so far as to restore a
few inscriptions, or, when needed, to replace a few
stones. These magnificent buildings required
careful supervision: in spite of their being
constructed of the most durable materials—sand-stone,