An Unprotected Female at the Pyramids | Page 7

now, mamma."
"How on earth I am ever to get back again I cannot think. I am so tired now that I can hardly sit."
"You'll be better, mamma, when you get your luncheon and a glass of wine."
"How on earth we are to eat and drink with those nasty Arab people around us, I can't conceive. They tell me we shall be eaten up by them. But, Fanny, what has Mr. Ingram been saying to you all the day?"
"What has he been saying, mamma? Oh! I don't know;--a hundred things, I dare say. But he has not been talking to me all the time."
"I think he has, Fanny, nearly, since we crossed the river. Oh, dear! oh, dear! this animal does hurt me so! Every time he moves he flings his head about, and that gives me such a bump." And then Fanny commiserated her mother's sufferings, and in her commiseration contrived to elude any further questionings as to Mr. Ingram's conversation.
"Majestic piles, are they not?" said Miss Dawkins, who, having changed her companion, allowed her mind to revert from Mount Sinai to the Pyramids. They were now riding through cultivated ground, with the vast extent of the sands of Libya before them. The two Pyramids were standing on the margin of the sand, with the head of the recumbent sphynx plainly visible between them. But no idea can be formed of the size of this immense figure till it is visited much more closely. The body is covered with sand, and the head and neck alone stand above the surface of the ground. They were still two miles distant, and the sphynx as yet was but an obscure mount between the two vast Pyramids.
"Immense piles!" said Miss Dawkins, repeating her own words.
"Yes, they are large," said Mr. Ingram, who did not choose to indulge in enthusiasm in the presence of Miss Dawkins.
"Enormous! What a grand idea!--eh, Mr. Ingram? The human race does not create such things as those nowadays!"
"No, indeed," he answered; "but perhaps we create better things."
"Better! You do not mean to say, Mr. Ingram, that you are an utilitarian. I do, in truth, hope better things of you than that. Yes! steam mills are better, no doubt, and mechanics' institutes and penny newspapers. But is nothing to be valued but what is useful?" And Miss Dawkins, in the height of her enthusiasm, switched her donkey severely over the shoulder.
"I might, perhaps, have said also that we create more beautiful things," said Mr. Ingram.
"But we cannot create older things."
"No, certainly; we cannot do that."
"Nor can we imbue what we do create with the grand associations which environ those piles with so intense an interest. Think of the mighty dead, Mr. Ingram, and of their great homes when living. Think of the hands which it took to raise those huge blocks--"
"And of the lives which it cost."
"Doubtless. The tyranny and invincible power of the royal architects add to the grandeur of the idea. One would not wish to have back the kings of Egypt."
"Well, no; they would be neither useful nor beautiful."
"Perhaps not; and I do not wish to be picturesque at the expense of my fellow-creatures."
"I doubt, even, whether they would be picturesque."
"You know what I mean, Mr. Ingram. But the associations of such names, and the presence of the stupendous works with which they are connected, fill the soul with awe. Such, at least, is the effect with mine."
"I fear that my tendencies, Miss Dawkins, are more realistic than your own."
"You belong to a young country, Mr. Ingram, and are naturally prone to think of material life. The necessity of living looms large before you."
"Very large, indeed, Miss Dawkins."
"Whereas with us, with some of us at least, the material aspect has given place to one in which poetry and enthusiasm prevail. To such among us the associations of past times are very dear. Cheops, to me, is more than Napoleon Bonaparte."
"That is more than most of your countrymen can say, at any rate, just at present."
"I am a woman," continued Miss Dawkins.
Mr. Ingram took off his hat in acknowledgment both of the announcement and of the fact.
"And to us it is not given--not given as yet--to share in the great deeds of the present. The envy of your sex has driven us from the paths which lead to honour. But the deeds of the past are as much ours as yours."
"Oh, quite as much."
"'Tis to your country that we look for enfranchisement from this thraldom. Yes, Mr. Ingram, the women of America have that strength of mind which has been wanting to those of Europe. In the United States woman will at last learn to exercise her proper mission."
Mr. Ingram expressed a sincere wish that such might be the case; and then wondering at the ingenuity with which