ing difference that these Nubian colossi rise abruptly almost at the water's edge and tower above the stream like strange and mighty water-gods. Such is the approach to the temple of Abu Simbel. The colossal statues of the Pharaohs throughout Egypt are either overthrown, or the buildings to which they belong are in ruin such that the architectural effect of colossal plastic is everywhere lost. The front of Luxor which might in some degree exhibit this effect is not yet excavated; and it is unlikely that it ever will be. Abu Simbel therefore is the only temple on the Nile where the visitor may behold such gigantic figures of the Pharaoh against the front of the temple as the architect intended they should be seen. As we approach we perceive that the front of the temple is hewn out of the cliff. It is one hundred and nineteen feet wide and over one hundred feet high. On either side of the central door-way facing the river, two colossal portrait statues of Ramses II in a sitting posture rise far up the mountain. The tips of the crowns are seventy-five feet from the pavement. The statues are therefore larger than the colossi of Memnon. The figure on the immediate left (south) of the door has cracked obliquely at the waist and the mighty shoulders, arms, head and crown have gone crashing down into the court, leaving but three survivors along the temple front. On the bases of the thrones beside the legs of the colossi are grouped the favorite wives, the daughters and the mother of the king. Anyone who knows this face of Ramses II either from the superb Turin statue, or from his mummy, would at once recognize these colossal heads as successful portraits in spite of their vast proportions. Imagine a sculptor on the scaffolding, working upon a face so gigantic that when standing on the shoulder of the statue he could not reach the lower edge of the ear to work upon it! The expression of the faces is one of kindness and benevolence, combined with that impressive calm, and a subtle touch of oriental languor mingled with imperturbability, which in both ancient and modern minds are associated with royalty in the East. Can we not easily understand how the Nubians worshipped not merely the great gods of Egypt besides their own, but also the living Pharaoh, as we look at these giant forms which for over three thousand years have looked out with the same mystical, impassive gaze over the swift-flowing river to greet the rising sun every morning? When Burckhardt brought back the first modern news of this marvelous place a hundred years ago, the colossi were covered to the knees with sand. Five years later it was cleared out by Belzoni; but the creeping sands still sift over the cliff and engulf the place in a yellow tide that rises steadily and inexorably as that of the sea. It is now coming in again in a vast flood from the north side. We skirt the margin of the sand, pass the enormous fragments of the fallen monster and stand under the shadow of these tremendous giants that tower seventy-five feet above us. Happy he who does so in the hour of dawn, when the sun is just about to show himself over the desolate rocks of the eastern desert. As the east brightens there is a wonderful play of light and shadow over the forms of the sleeping giants, which, still as if not yet born from the mountain, are enveloped in the mass of the cliff. And then as the light swells they start forth, the vast limbs disengage from the weathered bulk of the dark rocks and finally in plastic strength the Titans are born before our very eyes, imbued with the radiant beauty of a desert dawn. It is then that the charm of Abu Simbel is unique as we feel the dignity and beauty, the impressiveness and mystery of the ancient world which brought forth such works as these. While the same qualities are felt in the presence of the great buildings of the lower river, it is only here that we are seized by the force of a great personality, looking down upon us from the colossi and dominating the place with a mysterious and elusive but unmistakable power. The river cliffs are touched with purple, the magic breath of the desert fills all the place with soft enveloping |