r the celebration of their rites, and had made use
of this hall as a church, in the same way as we see the remains of
chapels and places of worship in the catacombs of Rome and Syracuse. The
inner court of the Temple of Medinet Habou has also been converted into
a Christian church; and the worthy Copts have daubed over the
beautifully executed pictures of Rameses II. with a coat of plaster,
upon which they have painted the grim figures of St. George, and various
old frightful saints and hermits, whose uncouth forms would almost give
one the idea of their having served for a system of idolatry much less
refined than the worship of the ancient gods of the heathen, whose
places they have usurped in these gigantic temples.

The Coptic manuscripts, of which I was in search, were lying upon the
steps of the altar, except one, larger than the rest, which was placed
upon the altar itself. They were about eight or nine in number, all
brown and musty looking books, written on cotton paper, or charta
bombycina, a material in use in very early times. An edict or charter,
on paper, exists, or at least did exist two years ago, in the museum of
the Jesuits' College, called the Colleggio Romano, at Rome: its date was
of the sixth century; and I have a Coptic manuscript written on paper of
this kind, which was finished, as appears by a note at the end, in the
year 1018: these are the oldest dates that I have met with in any
manuscripts on paper.

Having found these ancient books we proceeded to examine their contents,
and to accomplish this at our ease, we stuck the candles on the ground,
and the carpenter and I sat down before them, while his son brought us
the volumes from the steps of the altar, one by one.

The first which came to hand was a dusty quarto, smelling of incense,
and well spotted with yellow wax, with all its leaves dogs-eared or worn
round with constant use: this was a MS. of the lesser festivals. Another
appeared to be of the same kind; a third was also a book for the church
service. We puzzled over the next two or three, which seemed to be
martyrologies, or lives of the saints; but while we were poring over
them, we thought we heard a noise. "Oh! father of hammers," said I to
the carpenter, "I think I heard a noise: what could it be?--I thought I
heard something move." "Did you, hawaja?" (O merchant), said the
carpenter; "it must have been my son moving the books, for what else
could there be here?--No one knows of