The hospital consists of a few hovels of clay, covered with a straw roofing; they are ill-ventilated, and, in the wet season, the rain beats in upon the sick soldiers through the narrow windows, as they are not furnished with glass; the cold nights, moreover, prove very severe trials, especially to those who are suffering from small-pox. The invalid lies on an angareb, and is left to his fate. The medical man hurries through the whole hospital in one single visit, which he pays after sunrise, prescribes what he has been reading up for the occasion at home, without inquiring into the disease, and every order is given on the principle of “Allah kerim!” I have several times had the opportunity of convincing myself of the unparalleled neglect with which the hospital patients are treated, for, on my arrival at Lobeid, I found but one European medical man, Dr. Iken, a native of Hanover, who was too ill to do duty, and shortly afterwards died. It is a common saying, that an apothecary is no physician, and, _vice versâ_; but we know by experience that there are many apothecaries who are sufficiently well educated to be able to prescribe a remedy in cases of urgent necessity; we may, however, form an idea of the want of medical knowledge of an Arabian apothecary, when the doctor of medicine is himself ignorant, and we may also guess what the poor patients who fall into their hands have to expect or suffer between them. In Europe, the sick soldier is desirous of being admitted into the hospital, because he is convinced that he will there receive speedy and certain relief. In Lobeid, the contrary is observed, for the invalided men are obliged to be dragged to the infirmary by force, because they stand in so much awe of this terrible place, that every disease increases as soon as they know that they are to enter the establishment; and thus the greater number keep their sufferings secret as long as they possibly can. The apothecary who performed the duty of the medical man in the infirmary paid his visit once daily, and, on his arrival there, it depended, properly speaking, on the nurses what medicines the patients should take. Of these subordinate functionaries, even, there was a great deficiency, for, as fast as they arrived from Cairo, they were taken off their duties and employed by the doctor and apothecary in private practice; for by these means they were enabled to earn more than their pay, for which they always had to wait twelve months. This extensive apothecary, who acted in the capacity of pharmaceutist and medical man, usually commenced a categorical conversation with the nurse, without seeing any one of the patients; the following dialogue took place during one of my visits to the establishment. _Apothecary._—“How is No. 1?” _Nurse._—“He is still feverish.” _Apoth._—“It cannot be helped, for I have not had a drachm of quinine for several months past, and I have no other febrifuge; he will get better in time without physic. How is No. 2?”