those which I had over night laid close to my bed on the shore. The ancient Egyptians must, therefore, have been quick in offering up the lotus. The flower peeps out, however, only a little above the water, and the fruit sinks downwards, either from natural inclination, or from the weakness of the stalk, because the water, by the formation of it, has already fallen. The flower has above twenty tapering white leaves, arranged around a calix of a yellow gold colour, which is similar to that of the _Nymphæa_ in our millponds. The fillet, from one and a half to three inches in diameter, is like a compressed poppy-head, and ring-like incisions extend from its imperceptible corolla to the stalk. The extraordinarily small white seed lies in a brownish, wool-like envelope, and fills the whole capsule. Not only are the bulbs, as large as one’s fist, of the lotus eaten, but also the seed just mentioned; they mix it with sesame, and other grain, amongst the bread-corn, which circumstance I ascertained afterwards, as we found a number of these lotus-heads strung in lines to dry. To our taste, the best way to dress the bulbs, and to free them from the marshy flavour they leave behind in the mouth, is to drain the water off several times in cooking them; they then taste nearly like boiled celery, and may be very nourishing; but I would not be a Lotophagus here, for I had much rather eat potatoes with their jackets on. Although there are a number of bulbous plants in these parts, serving for food to the natives, (specimens of which I collected, but they were spoiled for want of earthen vessels to keep them in,) yet potatoes might not thrive here any more than in Egypt, which is far colder, as they would become watery, by the continual irrigation, this being the case even with the grasses. We sail S.S.W., make four to five miles, and have on the right hand grass marsh-islands. The expanse of water before us is limited only by a tree; to the left also of the right shore, a small ridge of heights displays itself, which may be considered as isolated alluvial deposits of downs. Nevertheless, it is sufficiently clear to me, that it is almost impossible to make an accurate map from a single voyage; this seems to have struck also the very learned Arnaud, for he is always consulting Selim-Capitan. Sabatier is ill, and the task therefore devolved on Arnaud, not only of observing the course of the river, but also the direction, beginning and end of the islands, &c., and all this with the windows hung with curtains! He may find out that the vessel is continually changing its course, but he could scarcely in this manner make a map of the stream, even if an air-balloon were placed at his disposal.