and but a little, unfortunate for me; since I have had my left arm so torn and bruised, by a camel, that I shall not be able to use it for a month: there is, however no danger. By a second accident, I had two of my righthand fingers so much injured, as to be scarce able to hold a pen.

I lost, besides, every thing I took with me, except the shirt upon my back. Luckily my portmanteau had reached Cairo, so that I shall not be in want of neces-, saries. I support my misfortunes, which after all, are not of the most important nature, in a very philosophical style; the greatest of them all, however is, and always will be, the not having it in my power to see you, and press you to my heart.

It was at Sallich, just beyond Bilbis, the last village before you come to the Desert, that we first heard the melancholy news of our naval action, in which we lost a great number of vessels, and amongst the rest the l'Orient; and had Admiral Brueys killed by a cannon shot. You may easily conceive how embarrassing this event must render our situation in this country. It would deprive the army of every hope, if they were not acquainted with the genius of the Commander in Chief. It is entirely on him then, that we rely for the care of extricating us from the perilous step in which we are engaged. May the measures he may take, bring us nearer to our country! EGYPT IS NOT MADE FOR

US.

Adieu, my dear Miot; I embrace you with all my heart, as well as all your charming family, and the dear

M.

Boyat, who is now sitting by me, begs me to assure

you of his attachment. He sends his respects to Josephine and to M.

If you desire me to return, let slip no opportunity; and above all, do not forget, the instant you receive this letter, to write a word to Sucy, to induce him to take me with him, in case he has any thoughts of quitting this country.

By what I can collect from Boyat's conversation, he does not seem disposed to do it at present.*

Adieu.

Our unfortunate Savant has already observed (No. IV.) Sucy's reluctance to take him with him to France. Sucy himself, we believe, will never revisit that country; but if it were other. wise, if the poor man's letters had reached his friend Miot in time, and if Miot had employed all his interest with the First Commissary in his behalf, we are persuaded that all would have been ineffectual. A botanist, and a man of sense! What pretensions has he to be one of the chosen few who are to be permitted to return? No, no, his fate was sealed previous to his embarkation. For the rest, we do not know that he has any particular reason to complain; he has already seen, he says, many of his associates fall around him (see his former letter), and he is still in existence:, nor can he justly blame the Directory; for if they could deliberately consign to inevitable destruction more than forty thousand of their best and bravest troops, to whom they were under the highest obligation, why should they be sup posed to interest themselves in the fate of this whining compound of philosophy and war, who has never yet, perhaps, rendered them the slightest service! The idea is too absurd to be dwelt upon.

When we observed above that we believed Sucy would never revisit France, we were certainly very far from thinking that this was already a matter of certainty. We have learned, since the former part of this note was written, that he was on board the

vessel which ran into Candia, where he was put to death, together with most of the passengers, by the inhabitants.

We are no advocates for a war of this savage nature; and the resentment with which we speak of the army of the East, or of England, proceeds from observing, that they are the butchers, not the bold and generous enemies, of the devoted Egyptians. With all this, however, we wish Sucy had fallen in some other manner; though we cannot help being astonished at the presumptuous folly that could lead him to throw himself and his companions into the hands of a people whom they had so grossly injured. The impunity with which the French have long insulted. and trampled on the poor patient nations of Europe, has em boldened them to their destruction: they have at length found an enemy worthy of themselves!

We know not whether the writer of this letter obtained his wish to be permitted to accompany Sucy in his flight. If he did, he doubtless shared his fate; it is more probable, however, that he did not; and in that case, if a short respite (for it will be no more) has its value with him,

Paucorum

si tanti vita dierum

we may venture to congratulate him on the obduracy of the First Commissary.

No. XVII.

Au Caire, le 29 Thermidor, an 6.

Au Citoyen PISTRE, demeurant au Bureau du Naulage, Quai Vincent, No. 199, à Lyon.

Je saisis avec empressement, mon cher ami, l'occasion

E

que me procure un de nos chefs d'escadron qui se retire par démission, pour te faire parvenir cette lettre, dans l'espoir qu'elle sera plus heureuse que celle que je t'ai écrite d'Alexandrie; la frégate qui en étoit porteur ayant, dit-on, été prise par les Anglais. Tu as sans doute appris, qu'après une navigation assez heureuse, nous nous étions emparés de l'Isle de Malthe, et que de là nous avions fait voile pour l'Egypte. Nous sommes en effet arrivés devant Alexandrie le 14 Thermidor, et nous nous'en sommes également emparés après une légère

résistance.

Je ne saurois t'exprimer, mon cher ami, l'étonnement que j'ai éprouvé en entrant dans cette ville, jadis si célèbre, dont il ne reste pas la moindre splendeur, et où on ne trouve plus que les vestiges de quelques anciens monuments, tels que la Colonne de Pompée, les Bains de Cléopatre, &c. L'Alexandrie moderne n'est plus qu'un amas de baraques de terre, formant des petites. rues fort étroites, d'une mal-propreté au-dessus de tout ce qu'on peut imaginer; ce qui, joint à la chaleur exces

sive de ce climat, fait qu'on y respire un très-mauvais air, qui y amene chaque année la peste.

A-peine commençoit-elle à cesser ses ravages, lorsque nous avons abordé; plusieurs bâtiments en étoient encore infestés dans le port, et j'ai encore vu porter en terre des êtres vivants qui en étoient attaqués. Je t'avoue que ce spectacle, joint à l'air stupide et farouche des habitants du pays, m'a navré le cœur. Je me suis demandé à moi-même comment le gouvernement François avoit fait tant d'efforts, et exposé une armée de quarante mille hommes, pour venir soumettre un peuple si féroce et si abruti.

Tel est, mon cher ami, la question que je me suis faite en mettant le pied sur ce sol brûlant, qui ne présente de toutes parts que des déserts immenses, entièrement dépourvus d'eau, dans l'espace de quatorze lieues que nous avons traversées en partant d'Alexandrie.

Après cette cruelle traversée, où les troupes ont beaucoup souffert de la chaleur et de la soif, nous nous sommes approchés du Nil, dont les rives sont un peu plus fécondes, mais toujours habitées par un peuple également farouche. Pendant nos trois premières journées de marche, nous avons continuellement été suivis par des Arabes, ou des Bédouins, qui sont des brigands à cheval, accoutumés à vivre de pillage, et qui égorgeoient ceux qui, épuisés de soif et de fatigues, ne pouvoient suivre la colonne.

Nous avons enfin rencontré les Mamelouks, qui sont des troupes que les Beys, au nombre de vingt-quatre qui gouvernent l'Egypte sous leur domination, tirent de Circassie et de la Georgie, et tiennent à leur solde. Ces troupes sont toutes montées sur d'excellents chevaux Arabes; elles ont voulu nous charger, mais le feu de la PART II. L