ome within hail of the port. What a healthy, free, aristocratic
life, combining feudal dignity with educated zest, a wise man could lead
there--if he had an establishment of, say, three hundred slaves, a
private band, a bevy of dancing girls, Bruzeaud for _chef_, an extensive
library, sixteen saddle-horses, and relays of jolly fellows from
Gibraltar to help him chase the wild boar and tame bores, eat
couscoussu, and drink green-tea well sweetened. He should Moorify
himself, but he need not change his religion, and if he went about it
rightly, I am sure, like the village pastor, he could make himself to
all the country dear. Take the educational question, for example. If he
were diplomatic he would pay the school-fees of the urchins of Tangier.
These are not extravagant--a few heads of barley daily, equivalent to
the sod of turf formerly carried by the pupils to the hedge academies in
dear Ireland, and a halfpenny on Friday. He should affect an interest in
the Koran, and make it a point of applauding the Koran-learned boy when
he is promenaded on horseback and named a bachelor. He might--indeed he
should--follow the career of his _protege_ at the Mhersa, where he
studies the principles of arithmetic, the rudiments of history, the
elements of geometry, and the theology of Sidi-Khalil, until he emerges
in a few years a Thaleb, or lettered man. Perhaps the Thaleb may go
farther, and become an Adoul or notary, a Fekky or doctor, nay--who
knows?--an Alem or sage. Ah! how pleasant that Moorish squire might be
by his own ruddy fire of rushes, palm branches, and sun-dried leaves;
and what a profit he might make by judicious speculation in
jackal-skins, oil, pottery, carpets, and leather stained with the
pomegranate bark! He would have his mills turned by water or by horses;
he would eat his bread with its liberal admixture of bran; he would rear
his storks and rams. The professors who charm snakes and munch
live-coals would all be hangers-on of his house; and he would have
periodical concerts by those five musicians who played such desert
lullabies for us--conspicuously one patriarch whose double-bass was made
from an orange-tree--and would not forget to supplement their honorarium
of five dollars with jorums of white wine. Sly special pleaders! They
argue with the German play-wright: "_Mahomet verbot den Wein, doch vom
Champagner sprach er nicht._"

From the Frenchman at the hotel, whose knowledge of Morocco was
"extensive and