General receiver of the taxes of half the | (tombs or zaouias), common buildings regency, his under-hand dealings have acquired for him a large fortune, which he devotes to the maintenance of his wives and the luxury of his house. His power is immense, and without restriction. He concentrates in his hands the finances, justice, and the police, chooses the officeholders in all departments, and dismisses them at his pleasure. His despotism is more merciless than that of the caïds of the tribes, because a regular troop, placed at his disposition, is always ready to march to enforce the execution of his decrees, while the caïds are obliged to manage their subordinates to be sure of them in the perilous hour of the razzias and the harvests. His two brothers occupy eminent positions; one is commandant of the city, the other a military colonel. His son, who is called to succeed him, sometimes came to see me. He asked me the most absurd questions, showing an extreme ignorance of everything. I could never succeed in making him understand that America is separated from Europe by a great sea besides the Mediterranean. Maps, reiterated explanations, all were useless. The end of the world remained for him, Stamboul on one side, the Soudan on the other. When I spoke of the rotundity of the earth, he gazed at me with an amused smile. Although no priesthood, properly speaking, exists among the Mussulmans, that does not prevent their having a numerous juridical clergy, composed of literati, of whom the first dignitary is here the Cadi. This very important personage, than whom no one is more influential, they say, except the Governor (of whom he takes precedence on certain solemn occasions), is a broken-down old man, very grave, with malicious little eyes twinkling with cunning. He discharges the functions of supreme judge; the muftis (ordinary judges) are his councillors and his creatures; the koodjas (notaries) are placed in entire dependence upon him. The whole forms the juridical clergy, a formidable and well-regulated power, which formerly believed itself superior to the soldiers and administrative functionaries, but which to-day makes common cause with them. "Wolves will not eat each other," says a French proverb. Kairwan counts sixty-three mosques and more than one hundred sanctuaries which would make a dreadful appearance in our cold latitudes, but which, despite the neglect and abandon in which they lie, have a certain artistic stamp given them by Dame Nature. The rough-cast of the walls is peeling off, the rains of winter have glazed the base with a greenish tinge, and pellicles are incrusted on the disjointed bricks; some silent passers-by, draped like Bible personages, stop to pray, the head erect, the hands extended. Such a scene is frequent; and the African sunincomparable magician! - which, under this deep azure sky, outlines objects with such clearness, makes of all this misery and these rags a splendid picture. The most ancient mosque, after the Djemma-el-Kebir, is that of the three doors -Djemma Bon Teletha Biban. Its old façade is adorned with old-Arabic inscriptions and archaic ornaments, interesting alike from an artistic and archæological point of view. Its doorways have antique columns, of which two of Byzantine origin testify to Mussulman iconoclastic zeal. The fantastic birds which form the corners and capitals, and the rams' heads in the middle, have been disfigured by hammers. Apropos of this, all the débris, columns, capitals, sculptured cornices and carved stones, so abundant in Kairwan that one can scarcely take a step without seeing some, come from the ruins of Roman villas in the suburbs. It was at first Sabra (twelve miles to the north), the ancient Colonia Sabrata, fortified by Justinian, from whence were taken the most of the materials of the Grand Mosque; then the Vecus Augusti (ten miles east), situated near the marabout of Sidi-el-Nane. These large cities, of which there remain but vestiges and the site, some roads still discernible, ruins of fortifications elevated on almost all the hillocks of the plain, numerous wells and cisterns scattered in the desert, prove the force and grandeur of Roman colonization. I measured one of the cisterns to the right of the Si-Nasseur-Allah road, five miles from Kairwan, in a good state of preservation, which, measured by paces, is over 150 yards wide and 250 long, with a conduit-house and four strongholds built at the sides. As stone is wanting in the plains, the material for all these works must have been brought from quarries which have been discovered in the sides of Djebel-Strozza, forty miles to the west. What an enor mous amount of energy all that represents! The most important and the most venerated of the sanctuaries of Kairwan, that which incloses the relics of Mohammed, on which account the city is holy, is the marabout of "Sidi Saheb Ennabi ou Sajebi," the holy companion and friend of the Prophet." Formerly, when Kairwan was in the days of its splendor, this important edifice was in the middle of the city, so large at that time that parents, to prevent their children being lost, put placards on their necks to indicate their neighborhood. To-day it is a quarter of a mile from the city. A mass of recent struc tures (1132 A.H.), as different inscriptions testify, incloses the tomb, a mosque, and a medressa (college). The ensemble is rather inconsistent, and has neither style nor character. A vestibule, a small square room, capped with a dome constellated with arabesque in fretwork, and a beautiful cloister, well designed, and of fine proportions, lead to the tomb. Their walls are covered with old Persian faiences of very original design and marvellous colors, surmounted by panels of very varied fretwork, comparable to those of the Alhambra. Unfortunately all this, badly kept up, is falling to ruins; the old bits of faience which fall are replaced by Italian tiles discordant in color-horrible speci- | their ruin, for, from the first, exalting by mens of modern industrial art. The ceilings of wood are painted in close design in a magnificent scale of color, rich and sombre, which sets off the white arabesques, the gay color of the faience, the fine tints of the marble columns. The tomb is in a small room with an elevated dome. The sarcophagus of wood, covered with green velvet embroidered with silver thread, is surrounded by a high wire lattice, to which are attached stones from Mecca and ostrich eggs (ex voto of the faithful). Some twenty magnificent standards of precious stuffs overshadow it, and an old Venetian lustre ornamented with iron lances hangs from the centre of the dome. The ground is covered with rich carpets, and the walls are adorned to a height of thirteen feet with Persian faiences above arabesques painted in black on a white ground. This very harmonious ensemble has a fine heroic stamp. There reposes the old warrior who, worshipping Mohammed, had the good fortune to be his faithful companion, and to see his creed triumph in the world; he had also the supreme consolation of carrying into his tomb a token of the friendship which his master had consecrated to him. Here I will let the legend speak: "Sidi Saheb followed the Prophet in all his expeditions, and lived under his tent. One day when they shaved him Mohammed gave him three hairs from his beard --inestimable relic, which the believer religiously preserved all his life. He came finally with Ogbah to Kairwan, where he died. Then, following his instructions, they placed one of these hairs on his tongue, the other two on his eyes." This beard is the cause of the confusion which has given foundation to the belief prevalent in Europe that the barber of the Prophet reposes at Kairwan. The medressa at Sidi Saheb is a vast court-yard surrounded by little cells, where lodge students, who are poor devils from distant tribes-old enthusiasts, or young men of the people who seek to acquire by learning a better material position. The sons of the cultured and important personages are educated at Tunis. The programme of studies is by far too primitive and restricted: it embraces only the Koran and the Arabic language. This shows that this very religion, the cause of the greatness of the Moors, is also the cause of From fanaticism their warlike virtues, it made them superior to their still barbarous adversaries, while to-day, shutting them within insurmountable barriers to progress, it leaves them stationary, inferior, and strangers to civilized peoples. this material inferiority results the sentiment, keen and persistent with them, of a blind and profound hatred for the infidel, the Roumi. They end by accepting it all as a demonstrated and incontestable truth. By a wise and interested calculation, parents keep these hostile sentiments concealed; but the children betray them, and do not spare the foreigner, insulting him in a thousand ways. That happened to me frequently in the first days of my sojourn, but after some merited corrections the little rogues behaved themselves discreetly. Ophthalmos (the eye), employed in metaphor, signified with the Greeks the central and important place of a country or city, where life and movement centre, and where characteristic manners come more distinctly to notice. Every large city has its eye: at Venice it is the Square of Saint Mark; at Naples it is the Toledo; in Paris the Boulevard des Italiens; at Kairwan it is the Market of Tunis. Here one gets, better than anywhere else, many of the customs of local life and details as to the productions of the country, character, the play of interest, and a number of typical and interesting things which would be difficult to recount, but which enable one to form his judgment. This market is held outside of the Tunis Gate in a large irregular square, surrounded by fondouks and shops. It is always crowded. Here they sell at auction horses (which they cause to prance about in the crowd at the risk of crushing the people), camels, cattle, and conveyances; in the corners are held the Souk el - Kamel, "louse - market,' where are sold old clothes, shoes, etc.; the Souk-el-Kallelgia, for jars and earthen bricks; the Souk el Cotran, for pitch, of which there is a great sale for the healing of animals; the Soukel-Edina, for camels, goat-skins, etc. Oftentimes, seated in the shade of a baraque, I have remained for hours contemplating these animated scenes, this perpetual stir of men and animals. The square has for frame a beautiful sky, proud mountains, distant views of the desert covered with its mantle of pale yellow. Scattered here and there are posts supporting roofings of matting, tents sheltering nomadic merchants, whose wives, veritable beasts of burden, attend publicly to their household cares, their indescribable rags drying everywhere in the sun. But the scene changed when I arose to mingle among the groups: the naked children who rolled themselves in the dust fled at my approach with frightful shrieks; the mothers took refuge under their screens, hiding their faces in their hands; the men glared upon me with wild and hostile looks; and all the dogs who guarded the cattle accompanied me with a furious barking. Here is a sketch of a day of Kairwanese life: It is morning, the voice of the muezzins announces that the sun is about to caouadjis run anxiously at the call of business men; the dark dens of the blacksmiths are illumined with red reflections. Buyer and seller conciliate each other, seek to convince one another, or dispute sharply. Toward eleven o'clock in summer all this animation disappears. It is the hour of the siesta. The traveller wandering through the solitary souks at this moment would fancy himself in a necropolis. Business recommences at three o'clock, continuing until sunset. In summer the evenings are passed before the cafés in open air. In winter the streets are rendered impracticable by the rains; there is not even a cat out-of-doors. HIGH in the dark Franconia Notch, From under brows that ache A Memnon to the sunbeams mute, In vain the blush of morning burns, And more than Memnon's years are in Firm-set. And, facing south, He looks with level eyes, and looks afar, The heavens are old, and so is he; rise. Bourgeois Kairwan still sleeps pro- THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN. foundly, but the poor devils who sleep on the ground in some tumble-down hovel have already quitted their beds and shaken their rags. The caouadjis (coffee-house keepers) are washing their shops, beating the mats which cover the benches, polishing their cups, and putting to rights in order to be ready for the call of custom. The milch cows and the goats leave the houses to wander all day in the open country in search of meagre nourishment; camels pass laden with fresh herbs, and leave behind them the pleasant odor of vegetation, which contrasts with the pungent smell of oil transported in dirty skins or in large amphora. Asses laden with coal and wood stop a moment at the doors of the houses to deliver their merchandise, and then plod on their peaceful way. But here are two whose loads catch on each other and fall. One of the guides has heard too late his fellow's cry of warning. A Homeric dispute ensues, in which the two heroes pour forth their vocabulary of invective, which is inexhaustible. All this with furious gestures which make one think that they are going to fight, but they take good care not. A point to notice is that the vociferations are louder in proportion as they move off and find themselves out of reach. Nothing is more amusing. During this time, one by one the shops have opened, some artisans have set themselves to work, the streets become peopled. The hour of business has struck. All becomes animated. A pungent exhalation arises from the kitchens of the meurgagia, who hasten to compound those inexpensive dishes to which southern idleness so easily accommodates itself; the And when in torrents through the gorge The mist is pouring like a sea, When equinoxes scourge, Or whips of winter, when the lightnings strike, And now, all thunder-scarred and worn The Red Man's Manitou he stood; Here like an ancient brave he stands, The dispossessed of lands. Like billows break. From crag and cliff, |