was issued to tax the villages of the Badawin settled upon the edge of the Western desert, who, even in Mohammed Ali’s time, were allowed to live free of assessment.  The Aulad ’Ali, inhabitants of a little village near the Pyramids, refused to pay, and turned out with their matchlocks, defying the Pasha.  The government then insisted upon their leaving their houses, and living under hair-cloth like Badawin, since they claimed the privileges of Badawin.  The sturdy fellows at once pitched their tents, and when I returned to Cairo (in December, 1853), they had deserted their village.  I could offer a score of such cases, proving the present debased condition of Egypt. [FN#38] At Constantinople the French were the first to break through the shameful degradation to which the ambassadors of infidel powers were bribed, by 300 or 400 rations a day, to submit.  M. de Saint Priest refused to give up his sword.  General Sebastiani insisted upon wearing his military boots; and the Republican Aubert Dubajet rejected the dinner, and the rich dress, with which “the naked and hungry barbarian who ventured to rub his brow upon the Sublime Porte,” was fed and clothed before being admitted to the presence, saying that the ambassadors of France wanted neither this nor that.  At Cairo, M. Sabatier, the French Consul-general, has had the merit of doing away with some customs prejudicial to the dignity of his nation.  The next English envoy will, if anxious so to distinguish himself, have an excellent opportunity.  It is usual, after the first audience, for the Pasha to send, in token of honour, a sorry steed to the new comer.  This custom is a mere relic of the days when Mohammed the Second threatened to stable his charger in St. Peter’s, and when a ride through the streets of Cairo exposed the Inspector-general Tott, and his suite, to lapidation and an “avanie.”  To send a good horse is to imply degradation, but to offer a bad one is a positive insult. [FN#39] As this canal has become a question of national interest, its advisability is surrounded with all the circumstance of unsupported assertion and bold denial.  The English want a railroad, which would confine the use of Egypt to themselves.  The French desire a canal that would admit the hardy cruisers of the Mediterranean into the Red Sea.  The cosmopolite will hope that both projects may be carried out.  Even in the seventh century Omar forbade Amru to cut the Isthmus of Suez for fear of opening Arabia to Christian vessels.  As regards the feasibility of the ship-canal, I heard M. Linant de Bellefonds-the best authority upon all such subjects in Egypt-expressly assert, after levelling and surveying the line, that he should have no difficulty in making it.  The canal is now a fact.  As late as April, 1864, Lord Palmerston informed the House of Commons that labourers might be more usefully employed in cultivating cotton than in “digging a canal through a sandy desert, and in making two harbours in deep mud and shallow water.”