The mesállaje in its present state was only six years old at the time of my visit (in 1850), and perhaps was not even quite finished in the interior, as I was told that the layers of boards were originally intended to support a staircase of clay. About fifty paces from the south-western corner of the mosque, the ruins of an older tower are seen still rising to a considerable height, though leaning much to one side, more so than the celebrated Tower of Pisa, and most probably in a few years it will give way to an attack of storm and rain. This more ancient tower seems to have stood quite detached from the mosque. Having sufficiently surveyed the exterior of the tower, and made a sketch of it, I accompanied my impatient companion into the interior of the mosque, into which he felt no scruple in conducting me. The lowness of the structure had already surprised me from without; but I was still more astonished when I entered the interior, and saw that it consisted of low, narrow naves, divided by pillars of immense thickness, the reason of which it is not possible at present to understand, as they have nothing to support but a roof of dúm-tree boards, mats, and a layer of clay; but I think it scarcely doubtful that originally these naves were but the vaults or cellars of a grand superstructure, designed but not executed; and this conjecture seems to be confirmed by all that at present remains of the mosque. The gloomy halls were buried in a mournful silence, interrupted only by the voice of a solitary man, seated on a dirty mat at the western wall of the tower, and reading diligently the torn leaves of a manuscript. Seeing that it was the kádhi, we went up to him and saluted him most respectfully; but it was not in the most cheerful and amiable way that he received our compliments—mine in particular—continuing to read, and scarcely raising his eyes from the sheets before him. Hámma then asked for permission to ascend the tower, but received a plain and unmistakable refusal, the thing being impossible, there being no entrance to the tower at present. It was shut up, he said, on account of the Kél-gerés, who used to ascend the tower in great numbers. Displeased with his uncourteous behaviour, and seeing that he was determined not to permit me to climb the tower, were it ever so feasible, we withdrew and called upon the imám, who lives in a house attached to these vaults, and which looked a little neater from having been whitewashed; however, he had no power to aid us in our purpose, but rather confirmed the statement of the kádhi. This is the principal mosque of the town, and seems to have been always so, although there are said to have been formerly as many as seventy mosques, of which ten are still in use. They deserve no mention, however, with the exception of three, the Msíd Míli, Msíd Éheni, and Msíd el Mékki. I will only add here that the Emgedesíye, so far as their very slender stock of theological learning