_Oct. 10th._--My garrulous friend the Sfaxee has gone off this morning, to bring his merchandise from Tintaghoda. The little fighi came, as usual, to see me. I showed him the Arabic New Testament. He read a few sentences, and then laid the book aside. I offered it to him, but he refused to accept the inestimable present. He represents the feelings of all the Muslims of these countries. They have not even any _curiosity_ to know the contents of the Gospel, much less the inclination to study or appreciate them. They remain in a state of immovable, absolute indifference. Even the beautiful manner in which the Arabic letters are printed scarcely excites their surprise. En-Noor paid me his usual morning visit, drank tea, and ate pickles and marmalade. We asked him about meteors. He recollects the fall of many. One, he says, fell upon a house, and terrified the inhabitants, who came running to him. Afterwards they dug to the depth of a man, and found nothing, for it had buried itself deep in the earth. According to him, a great profusion of meteors denotes abundance of rain and herbage: but these phenomena exert also a sinister influence like comets, signifying the death of some great personage. I have no doubt that extraordinary meteors are very frequent in this part of the Sahara. En-Noor was very condescending, as usual: no change is observable in his manners. It turned out that he had come with the intention of speaking on a very delicate subject, but had refrained. We learned what it was afterwards. Dr. Overweg was sent for in the course of the day to attend upon one of En-Noor's wives, who had been frightfully beaten by his highness the previous evening. This domestic broil formed the common topic of conversation in Tintalous. Every scandal-monger has got hold of one version of the story. From what we could gather, the great man was lying down quietly, when suddenly, without any apparent provocation, he started up, took a large stick from the fire, one of its ends still burning, and with this terrific weapon belaboured his wife over the face, striking especially at the mouth, and cutting the upper lip in two. The poor woman is now very ill. No cause can be discovered for this piece of brutality. En-Noor has, they pretend, two wives here, and one on his estate at Damerghou; but he has only one son and three daughters. No larger family has this great man, with all his wealth and slaves, been able to bring up.