will, I trust, be repeated as nobly by this generation and our posterity, if occasion arises, which it in all probability will before very long. This town is just now a complete desert; those who were here last winter would not know it again. The large hotel, Shepheard's, which at times holds from 150 guests upwards, has now one solitary inmate. The chief point of interest just now is the Nile, which has been gradually rising for some time and is now nearly at its height; it is so full this year that there is some anxiety as to its overflowing its banks, so that in order to guard against eventualities, watchmen are placed in certain places along the banks, at about 100 yards apart, to look out day and night for the first appearance of the river overflowing the banks, and to give the alarm, so that the neighbouring inhabitants may be collected and at once repair any breach which the waters may make — the damage and loss which would otherwise ensue would be immense. It won't be many months, my dear Minny, before we meet again; for my time is up, as I think you know, next May, which is not so very far off. I shall do my best, when I do return, to work my way home through Palestine as far as Damascus, and linger perhaps a little in Italy afterwards.
September 24, 1887. — Many thanks for your letter from Canterbury. The Cathedral is full of historical interest, but I am not at all sure that so far as the beauty of the building is concerned there is not more of that to be seen from the outside, combined with the cloisters and other buildings. The principal historical characters connected with the town are Chaucer, Uriah Heep, and Mary Freeling. With us it is still very hot, and so muggy that I don't feel inclined to take much exertion. The Nile is still rising, but will soon, I think, come to a standstill and then begin to fall. I am much pleased with a very charming novel I am reading — Jess, by Haggard, his last and best, very superior to anything
he has written before, containing some really fine writing and good sentiments. I wish more such were written, and less trash in proportion. I am just off for a drive, the most violent kind of exercise I feel disposed to take just now, so good-bye, my dear, for the present.
Cairo, October 10, 1887. — You will see me back again sooner than I expected. The Government contemplate a still further reduction of the English force here, and with it necessarily the staff; my appointment here under these circumstances must cease as a matter of course. My staff and self will therefore leave here before the end of the year.... Our friends the Dervishes are on the move again, and are now about 3500 strong within 35 miles of our frontier post at Haifa; they have possibly come there with the object of plunder, but they will find but little to satisfy their wants, for the country they are now in is almost depopulated and devoid of food. They will probably withdraw as soon as their own supplies are exhausted. We have had a trying month during September, hot damp atmosphere, relaxing and depressing, and we still feel it, though it must soon come to an end. I have felt it more than during any month I have been in Egypt.
November 8, 1887. — I sent you a very shabby letter by last mail, but I had a little touch of fever upon me at the time which made me somewhat ill-disposed to letter writing; the fever is gone, and I am nearly all right again.
Cairo, December 12, 1887. — Merely one line to say, don't write to me after the 23rd of this month; a letter posted on that day will reach me, but not after that, as I shall leave here on the 31st, which ought to bring me to you about the middle of January, unless I take Palestine in my way home, which I do not think
[fragment illegible in the scan of the first edition]
I shalL All sorts of farewell dinners in prospect; one of about 250 people is given to me on Monday. The Khedive gives me one on the 29th, the staff give me another, and there are several private ones besides.
To his Brother
Cairo, December 12, 1887.