Of a naturally indolent character, Cherif always represented the _laissez aller_ side of Egyptian politics. With an excellent temper, and a supremely apathetic disposition, he was always willing to accept almost any proposition, provided it did not entail upon him any personal exertion, or interfere with his favourite pastime, a game of billiards. Cherif's notion in refusing to appear before the Commission was of a two-fold character. Educated with Oriental ideas, and accustomed to regard Europeans with suspicion, it is not unlikely that he resented the appointment of the Commission as an unwarrantable intrusion on the part of the Western Powers. "Here," thought he, "were a number of people coming to make disagreeable inquiries, and to ask indiscreet questions. Others might answer them; he, for his part, could not, and for two reasons: first, because he couldn't if he would; and second, because he wouldn't if he could. Was he, at his time of life, to be asked to give reasons for all he had done? It was ridiculous; all the world knew that he had no reasons."[2] Probably, also, Cherif had his own motives for not wishing to afford too much information. Though enjoying a deservedly high reputation for honesty, he belonged to what must be regarded as the "privileged class" in the country. For years this class had benefited by certain partial immunities from taxation, and these advantages the work of the Commission threatened to do away with. Further, Cherif's love of ease and comfort, and absence of energy, indisposed him to give himself unnecessary trouble about anything in particular. Be this as it may, Cherif, though expressing his readiness to reply in writing to any communications which the Commission might address to him, declined to do more. The Decree, however, provided that every functionary of State should be bound to appear before the Commission. This might have placed a less astute Minister in a dilemma. Cherif at once evaded the difficulty by resigning office, rightly calculating on again returning to power when the Commission should have become a thing of the past. Riaz Pasha, then second Vice-President of the Commission, succeeded Cherif as Minister, and the inquiry proceeded without him.[3] It will not have escaped notice that in authorizing Rivers Wilson, who held a high post in the Office of the National Debt, to sit on the Commission, and in granting him leave of absence for the purpose, the British Government had allowed itself to advance one stage further in its Egyptian policy. The significance of the event was only partially disguised by Lord Derby's cautious intimation that "the employé of the British Government was not to be considered as invested with any official character."