ved the idea
of distant conquest. An occasional raid upon the negroes of the South,
or chastisement of the nomades of the East, secured her interests in
those quarters, and prevented her warlike virtues from dying out through
lack of use. But otherwise tranquillity was undisturbed, and the
energies of the nation were directed to increasing its material
prosperity, and to progress in the arts.

Among the marvels of Egypt perhaps the Sphinx is second to none. The
mysterious being with the head of a man and the body of a lion is not at
all uncommon in Egyptian architectural adornment, but the one placed
before the Second Pyramid (the Pyramid of Shafra), and supposed to be
contemporary with it, astonishes the observer by its gigantic
proportions. It is known to the Arabs as Abul-hol, the father of terror.
It measures more than one hundred feet in length, and was partially
carved from the rocks of the Lybian hills. Between its out-stretched
feet there stands a chapel, uncovered in 1816, three walls of which are
formed by tablets bearing inscriptions indicative of its use and origin.

A small temple behind the great Sphinx, probably also built by Shafra,
is formed of great blocks of the hardest red granite, brought from the
neighbourhood of Syene and fitted to each other with a nicety
astonishing to modern architects, who are unable to imagine what tools
could have proved equal to the difficult achievement. Mysterious
passages pierce the great Sphinx and connect it with the Second Pyramid,
three hundred feet west of it. In the face of this mystery all questions
are vain, and yet every visitor adds new queries to those that others
have asked before him.

Since what unnumbered year
Hast thou kept watch and ward,
And o'er the buried land of fear
So grimly held thy guard?
No faithless slumber snatching,
Still couched in silence brave,
Like some fierce hound, long watching
Above her master's grave....

Dost thou in anguish thus
Still brood o'er OEdipus?
And weave enigmas to mislead anew,
And stultify the blind
Dull heads of human-kind,
And inly make thy moan,
That, mid the hated crew,
Whom thou so long couldst vex,
Bewilder and perplex,
Thou yet couldst find a subtler than thine own?

Even now; methinks that those
Dark, heavy lips which close
In such a stern repose,
Seem burdened with some thought un