even English. It has its hotels; and
the traveller, except that he hears more Arabic, and inhales more
tobacco smoke, will soon begin to imagine himself in Regent street. The
"Eastern Hotel" is a good house, where Englishmen get beefsteaks, port
wine, and brown stout; read the London papers; have waiters who at least
do their best to entertain them in their own tongue; and want nothing
but operas and omnibuses. But the dress still makes a distinction, and
it is wholly in favour of the Mussulman. All modern European dresses are
mean; the Oriental is the only man whose dress adds dignity to the human
form. When Sultan Mahmoud stripped off the turban, and turned the noble
dress of his people into the caricature of the European costume, he
struck a heavier blow at his sovereignty than ever was inflicted by the
Russian sabre or the Greek dagger. He smote the spirit of his nation.
The Egyptian officials wear the fez, or red nightcap--the fitting emblem
of an empire gone to sleep. But the general population of Egypt wear the
ancient turban, the finest ornament of the head ever invented by man;
that of the Egyptian Mahometan is white muslin; that of the Shereefs, or
line of Mahomet, is green; that of the Jews and Copts is black. The
remaining portions of the costume are such as, perhaps, we shall soon
see only upon the stage. The embroidered caftan, the flowing gown, the
full trouser of scarlet or violet-coloured cloth, the yellow morocco
boot, the jewelled dagger, and velvet-sheathed cimeter--all the
perfection of magnificence and taste in costume. The ample beard gives
completeness to the majesty of the countenance, and finishes the true
character of the "lord of the creation."

The citadel of Cairo has a melancholy and memorable name, from the
horrid massacre of the Mamelukes in 1811, when four hundred and seventy
of those showy soldiers were murdered, and but one escaped by leaping
his horse from the battlements. The horse was killed; the man is now a
bey in the Pasha's service. The citadel stands on a hill, and contains
the Pasha's palace, a harem, a council-hall, police-offices, and a large
square, where the massacre was perpetrated. The view from the windows of
the palace is superb. Cairo is seen immediately beneath, skirted by
gardens on the right. Beyond those the mosques of the caliphs, and as
far as the eye can reach, the Arabian desert. In front is the Nile, a
silver stream, covered with sails of every description,