Learning was in a much more flourishing state in Cairo before the entrance of the French army than it has been in later years. It suffered severely from this invasion, not through direct oppression, but in consequence of the panic which this event occasioned and the troubles by which it was followed. Before that period, a sheykh who had studied in the Azhar, if he had only two boys, sons of a moderately rich felláh, to educate, lived in luxury: his two pupils served him, cleaned his house, prepared his food, and, though they partook of it with him, were his menial attendants at every time but that of eating: they followed him whenever he went out, carried his shoes (and often kissed them when they took them off) on his entering a mosque, and in every case treated him with the honour due to a prince. He was then distinguished by an ample dress and the large formal turban called a mukleh; and as he passed along the street, whether on foot or mounted on an ass or mule, passengers often pressed towards him to implore a short ejaculatory prayer on their behalf; and he who succeeded in obtaining this wish believed himself especially blessed: if he passed by a Frank riding, the latter was obliged to dismount; if he went to a butcher to procure some meat (for he found it best to do so, and not to send another), the butcher refused to make any charge, but kissed his hand, and received as an honour and a blessing whatever he chose to give.—The condition of a man of this profession is now so fallen that it is with difficulty he can obtain a scanty subsistence unless possessed of extraordinary talent.