T IS in the Thebaid, on the heights of a mountain, where a platform, shaped like a crescent, is sur rounded by huge stones. The Hermit's cell occupies the background. It is built of mud and reeds, ?at-roofed and doorless. Inside are seen a pitcher and a loaf of black bread; in the centre, on a wooden support, a large book; on the ground, here and there, bits of rush-work, a mat or two, a basket and a knife. Some ten paces or so from the cell a tall cross is planted in the ground; and, at the other end of the platform, a gnarled old palm-tree leans over the abyss, for the side of the mountain is scarped; and at the bottom of the cliff the Nile swells, as it were, into a lake. To right and left, the view is bounded by the eu closing rocks; but, on the side of the desert, immense undulations of a yellowish ash-colour rise, one above and one beyond the other, like the lines of a sea coast; while, far off, beyond the sands, the mountains of the Libyan range form a wall of chalk-like white ness faintly shaded with violet haze. In front, the sun is going down. Towards the north, the sky has a pearl-grey tint; while, at the zenith, purple clouds, like the tufts of a gigantic mane, stretch over the blue vault. These purple streaks grow browner; the patches of blue assume the paleness of mother-of pearl. The bushes, the pebbles, the earth, now wear the hard colour of bronze, and through space ?oats a golden dust so fine that it is scarcely distinguish able from the vibrations of light.
