Before leaving the Canal on our outward voyage, it will not be out of place to note the inauguration _fête_, which must have been to M. de Lesseps the proudest day of a useful life. Two weeks before that event, the engineers were for the moment baffled by a temporary obstruction—a mass of solid rock in the channel. “Go,” said the unconquerable projector, “and get powder at Cairo—powder in quantities; and then, if we can’t blow up the rock, we’ll blow up ourselves.” That rock was very soon in fragments! The spirit and _bonhomie_ of Lesseps made everything easy, and the greatest difficulties surmountable. “From the beginning of the work,” says he, “there was not a tent-keeper who did not consider himself an agent of civilisation.” This, no doubt, was the great secret of his grand success. [Illustration: OPENING OF THE SUEZ CANAL—PROCESSION OF SHIPS.] The great day arrived. On the 16th of November, 1868, there were 160 vessels ready to pass the Canal. At the last moment that evening it was announced that an Egyptian frigate had run on one of the banks of the Canal, and was hopelessly stuck there, obstructing the passage. She could not be towed off, and the united efforts of several hundred men on the bank could not at first move her. The Viceroy even proposed to blow her up. It was only five minutes before arriving at the site of the accident that an Egyptian admiral signalled to Lesseps from a little steam-launch that the Canal was free. A procession of 130 vessels was formed, the steam yacht _L’Aigle_, _en avant_, carrying on board the Empress of the French, the Emperor of Austria, and the Viceroy. This noble-hearted Empress, who has been so long exiled in a country she has learned to love, told Lesseps at Ismaïlia that during the whole journey she had felt “as though a circle of fire were round her head,” fearing that some disaster might mar the day’s proceedings. Her pent-up feelings gave way at last; and when success was assured, she retired to her cabin, where sobs were heard by her devoted friends—sobs which did great honour to her true and patriotic heart. The Viceroy on that occasion entertained 6,000 foreigners, a large proportion of whom were of the most distinguished kind. Men of all nationalities came to honour an enlightened ruler, and witness the opening of a grand engineering work, which had been carried through so many opposing difficulties; to applaud the man of cool head and active brain, who had a few years before been by many jeered at, snubbed, and thwarted. To suitably entertain the vast assemblage, the Viceroy had engaged 500 cooks and 1,000 servants, bringing many of them from Marseilles, Trieste, Genoa, and Leghorn. Although the waters of the Canal are usually placid—almost sleepily calm—they are occasionally lashed up into waves by sudden storms. One such, which did some damage, occurred on December 9th, 1877.