On his arrival at Aleppo, he determined, in pursuance of the advice of Mr. Barker, to put off his Mohammedan disguise, though he still retained the Turkish dress; and with the aid of an able master, recommenced the study of the Arabic, both literal and vulgar. He was attacked, however, shortly after his arrival, by a strong inflammatory fever, which lasted a fortnight; and was occasioned, as he conjectured, by the want of sleep, of which blessing he had been deprived by the prodigious colonies of that “friendly beast to man” which, according to Sir Hugh Evans, “signifies love,” which had established themselves in his garments during his stay at the khan of Antakia. When this seasoning was over, his health appeared to be improved, and he found the climate finer and more salubrious than he had expected. During his stay in this city, which was a very protracted one, Burckhardt laboured assiduously in fitting himself for the honourable performance of the task he had undertaken. His Arabic studies were uninterrupted. Besides seizing eagerly on every opportunity of improving himself by conversation with the natives, he laboured at an attempt to transform “Robinson Crusoe” into an Arabian tale. He moreover succeeded in making the acquaintance of several sheïkhs, and other literary men, who honoured him occasionally with a visit; a favour, he says, which he owed principally to Mr. Wilkins’s “Arabic and Persian Dictionary.” The ordinary lexicons of the country being very defective, the learned Turks were often obliged to have recourse to Wilkins, whose learning and exactness sometimes compelled them to exclaim, “How wonderful that a Frank should know more of our language than our first ulmas!”