This morning received a visit from the Sheikh of Rujban, Bel Kasem by name[15], and his head-servant, or factotum. I made them the best coffee I could, putting into it plenty of sugar. The Arabs are curious people; they like things either very bitter or very sweet. Their eyes sparkled with satisfaction; they had never tasted coffee before like it, and were rejoiced--"Tripoli always belongs to the English!" Speaking of the Marabouts, and alluding to my Mohammed, the Sheikh said, "These fellows pray God and rob men." "Mohammed," he added, "is a rogue, he pays nothing, and I am obliged to eat up all the people to make up the amount for the Bashaw." It is curious to observe everywhere this eternal contest between the civil and spiritual power. To pacify him, I told him Christian priests were many of them as bad as Marabouts (and which is quite within the mark). The Sheikh and his men had very white teeth. I observe nearly all the Arab men and women, as well as the negroes, to have extremely white teeth. This has never been medically accounted for; I believe it arises from the simplicity of the food they eat. Some Tunisian Arabs have reported that large bodies of troops are being concentrated at the Isle of Jerbah, in expectation of the Turks. The trading Arabs are the gazettes of North Africa. Said's feet are very sore, arising from Mohammed refusing to allow him to ride. I was obliged to tell him, at last, that, unless he permitted him to ride, Said should not help him to load the camels. This had some effect, and he allowed Said to ride an hour or two before reaching here. This Marabout is, indeed, a cruel, selfish fellow. He also pretends to be very jealous, and will not allow any person, much less a Christian, to see his wife. He won't allow me to present her a cup of coffee. But I found out the reason; the rascal wished to carry it himself, and drink half of it on the way. Afterwards his wife told me herself the reason. An indiscreet conjugal disclosure this: but such is the character of the man. An old blind man is calling on me. He tells me his country is my country, and his people my brothers and sisters. He prays God to bless me and preserve me. How soft and gentle--how full of good-will and patience--are the manners of the blind in all countries! Full fed flesh and the prosperous are proud and cruel, those stricken with infirmity and misery show the milk of human kindness. This poor old gentleman prays all the day long. Prayer is his daily bread. The Arabs ask me if Said is my slave. I tell them the English have no slaves, and that it is against their religion, but that some other Christian nations have slaves. They are greatly astonished that slavery is not permitted amongst us. The women of the village continue to visit me as an object of curiosity. They never saw a Christian before. They are always declaring me "bahea," handsome, of which compliment I am, indeed, very sensible.