which are carried to Europe and America, and that the large majority who stay at home should have within their reach examples of the art of distant countries. This is doubtless true, but it in no way militates against the furtherance of a scheme for protecting the architectural monuments of a city or preserving the general contour of its streets and buildings so far as is consistent with the requirements of health and genuine civilisation.

The rule of the present dynasty in Egypt may be regarded as the catastrophe so far as Arab art is concerned. Into the social and political state of the country at the time of the accession of Mohammed Ali it would be out of place in this brief essay to enter at any length. The power exercised by the Memlooks had doubtless reached an excess which became unbearable, and afforded a plea for carrying into execution projects of reform and a system of government having within it certain elements of justice which found favour in Europe at the time, although the means adopted to carry out these changes could not be palliated.

The preservation by means of endowments of the mosques and the schools attached to them had hitherto sufficed to arrest their decay, but by a process not altogether unknown in Europe these resources had been diverted from the intention of their founders and devoted to other purposes.

The advancement of education upon a European basis became the watchword of the party of progress, and the astute ruler of Egypt knew well how to avail himself of the sounding cry which he shaped to his own ends, regardless of the traditions and prejudices of his adopted country. Hungry adventurers followed in the wake, and profited by the disruption which secured for them advancement and emolument, and it is hardly a matter for wonder if the interests of native art were made to suffer.

A project which should aim at the preservation of the Arab monuments of Egypt ought especially to recommend itself to the attention of all who take an interest in Oriental art, and that this interest is widespread and on the increase none can doubt who regard the objects displayed in our museums and private collections, the subjects selected by the painters of the day, and the influence it has exerted upon decorative art both in this country and on the Continent of Europe.

The native art of India, too long disregarded, is beginning to receive the attention of the cultivated minority who view that vast country as something more than the battle-field of conflicting races, in which the older civilisation must necessarily give way and be moulded according to the will and caprice of the conqueror. The Saracenic monuments of India are of the highest interest from their intrinsic beauty, and also as affording an instance of the tenacity with which the Arab race have clung to their early traditions when

transplanted into a foreign soil. Their rule has long been at an end, but it is a healthy sign of genuine progress that the monuments they have left behind them are beginning to be estimated at their true value. In Egypt, where their faith still endures, it might have been expected that the fostering care of a Mohammedan government would have saved from destruction these relics of the past, even if they have not the wit to create afresh or to imitate a style not glaringly at variance with their early traditions. The condition of Cairo is a melancholy proof that the present rulers of Egypt are unworthy successors to the inheritance which has become theirs by right of conquest, but which they hold on sufferance, and would long since have forfeited had not the mutual jealousy of the European Powers afforded them a grudging support.

The Arab people, emasculated by long years of oppression and misrule, have now scarcely a voice in shaping the destiny of their country; but if they carry to excess the resignation that is enjoined by their religion, they are by no means bereft of some of the nobler qualities that once adorned their race, and if the sentiment of patriotism could be aroused they might yet waken from the lethargy that threatens their extinction.

The potent influence, both for good and evil, of the Muslim faith upon Arab art, deadening and almost nullifying in the case of painting and sculpture, but elevating and ennobling when brought to bear upon their architecture, renders it difficult to assign to it a just position. In this respect the art of the ancient Egyptians, of Greece and Rome, and the development and application of art in India and China, present a marked contrast. In these latter countries the religious faith of the people has greatly influenced their treatment of painting and sculpture, and in the case of the Greeks especially has afforded to it a vitality which has exerted a powerful influence over the culture and civilisation of the world. Christian art, subjected, at least in modern times, to trammels similar in kind, though less in degree, to those imposed upon the Arabs by their religious prejudices, has never lost its hold upon the nations of Europe, nor has Puritan zeal even in Protestant England succeeded in effacing the influence it yet continues to exert. Thrown back upon the resources which were yet at their command, the Arabs concentrated their energies upon architecture, and their inventive faculties developed almost a new art in the style of decoration which lends so much grace and beauty to their buildings.

It is a significant fact that the obstacles which have arrested the full development of art amongst the Arabs should have fostered the growth of a style of architecture so admirable in its adaptability to the ends which it subserves, and yet appealing at the same time to the sympathies of men alien to the creed and to the institutions under which it flourished.

Persian art, less under the influence of these restrictions, inasmuch as it admits under a modified form of the rendering of natural objects, has never, at least in architecture, reached the perfection attained to by the Arabs, who have made Egypt a central point for the erection of their noblest monuments.

The mosques of Cairo and the examples of domestic architecture which yet remain are evidences of the high position attained to by their designers, and justify the dismay with which their neglected condition fills the mind of all who are capable of appreciating their beauty. It is a sad commentary upon the boasted civilisation of a century now drawing to a close that no hand has yet been lifted to avert the doom of some of the choicest monuments existing in the world.

The surpassing interest attaching to the remains of ancient Egypt has to some extent thrown into the shade the products of a later phase of civilisation. The mystery which enshrines the monuments of a race so long extinct, their simple grandeur, and their enduring strength, have drawn towards them the attentive study of some of our highest intellects. The key to the right understanding of their inscriptions has been eagerly sought after, and the almost unlooked-for success attending their anxious search has afforded a fresh impetus to the prosecution of labours to which the Government have lent their tardy support. Thus we no longer hear of temples quarried out in order to provide material for a tawdry palace, or of their columns being burned for lime-a proceeding connived at by several of the late Viceroys of Egypt.

The enlightened zeal of Mariette Pasha,' the able Director of the Boulak Museum, has been devoted mainly to the preservation of the ancient monuments of Egypt. The engrossing nature of his pursuit, the limited funds at his disposal, and the apathy with which all appeals for the protection of the Arab monuments have hitherto been listened to, have all contributed to concentrate his attention and that of his colleagues upon one absorbing topic. It remains for others to arrest, whilst there is yet time, the ravages of long years of neglect, and to neutralise the imbecile endeavour to Europeanise a city once a typical example of what the Arabs were able to achieve in architecture.

Twenty years ago much might have been done in this direction. The city of Cairo was not yet under the spell of a 'Haussmann' destined, as the silly projectors of these improvements fondly believed, to rival the Paris of the Second Empire. Who, amongst those who were fortunate enough to have visited Cairo before this insane mania took its rise, can fail to remember the impression produced by a ride

The recent decease of this eminent archæologist will cause a feeling of deep regret amongst all who have had an opportunity of appreciating his well-directed labours.

to the citadel? The narrow and tortuous streets, in those days carefully swept, afforded a grateful shade, so that even in the heat of the day they might be traversed without inconvenience. Carriages were of rare occurrence, so that the traveller might indulge in day-dreams without the risk of being run down or compelled to take shelter under a doorway until the vehicle with its screaming attendant had passed by. The attention, constantly riveted by some fresh object of interest, never flagged, and as each scene in the moving panorama unfolded itself we seemed to have stepped back into a former age, and were irresistibly reminded of the legends and stories which have not yet lost their hold upon the imagination of the people. This frame of mind inspired 'Eothen.' The mushroom cities of Western America could hardly be less conducive to such emotions than the aspect of modern Cairo. It should not, however, be assumed that whilst deeply lamenting these changes we deprecate the adoption of certain improvements adapted to modern civilisation, and carried out in the spirit of the founders.

A survey of the city directed with intelligence and having in view the convenience of the public, and certain sanitary reforms, hitherto too much neglected, might well be made to replace the vulgar ostentation and the odious taste which meet the eye on every side. The opening out of new thoroughfares, where this object can be attained without the sacrifice of the architectural features of the city, should form part of a programme designed to meet the wants of an Oriental people not yet weaned from the tastes and habits of their ancestors.

There is in fact scarcely an appliance of modern civilisation which might not be grafted on the habits of the people, if the object in view were really directed towards their moral and physical improvement.

A close examination of the changes recently brought about in Egypt leads to the conclusion that the superficial gloss miscalled civilisation is only the narrow end of the wedge designed by crafty rulers to effect the final subjugation of the people. The critical position into which the country had been brought under the rule of the exKhedive rendered it necessary to place the government under the temporary tutelage of the two European Powers most interested in securing an honest administration. There is reason to believe that the attempts at reform recently inaugurated have not been entirely fruitless, and that some advance in the direction of good government has really been made. This would surely be a fitting time to urge the claims of Arab art upon the attention of a ruler who seems not insensible to the advantages that might accrue from an enlightened consideration of so important an element of true civilisation.

In stigmatising as it deserves the gigantic sham that is being. enacted in Egypt under the guise of civilisation, it is difficult to speak

in terms of moderation; but the day cannot be far distant when the ruin which is impending over the Arab monuments of Cairo must inspire a feeling of deep regret and a desire before it is too late to devise some scheme by which they can be saved from annihilation.

It was, I believe, owing to the strenuous exertions of some of the European residents that the Mosque of Sultan Hassan, one of the grandest examples of Arab architecture in the world, was saved from destruction. Happily this beautiful structure still remains, although its walls show ominous signs of decay, and a new mosque begun some fifteen years ago blocks up and disfigures the principal entrance. The vanity of the native architect who probably suggested this juxtaposition is almost amusingly displayed in the contrast thus afforded by the two buildings.

It is to be hoped that the want of funds may continue to be an obstacle to the completion of the latter, and that it may not remain as an enduring monument of perverted taste. It is not by spasmodic efforts that any decisive blow can be struck at a system so deeply rooted. Hand in hand with the judicial and other reforms which may be looked for under the guidance of two great European Powers, an intelligent supervision should be brought to bear upon the condition of the city as regards its public buildings and the domestic architecture, which yet affords a rich field for study. In some of the remoter quarters of the town Arab houses yet exist which, either from the apathy of the owners or from a sentiment of nationality not yet extinct, have been left untouched, and might still be preserved as a record of the past, and an incentive to a revival of native taste. Within the memory of the writer many of these have passed away, others remain in a condition more or less precarious, but still susceptible of intelligent restoration. In reference to the latter term, so often misapplied, it should be borne in mind that the efforts of the restorer should be restricted to the employment of materials already at hand, of which much still remains amongst the fragments of earlier buildings. Restoration in the ordinary acceptation of the term should of all things be the most deprecated, as it would assuredly lead to greater evils than those we are so anxious to avoid. The purchase of an Arab house of a good period might be effected at little cost, and its conversion into a local museum of objects of Arab art, similar in kind to the noble collection before alluded to at Boulak, would go far to awaken the visitors who yearly flock to Cairo to a recognition of the claims of that beautiful city to protection from further injury.

If but a tithe of the vast sums expended upon the demolition and the rebuilding of Cairo could have been devoted to such objects, the sad spectacle of a city desecrated and disfigured would have been spared to us, and a revival of the sense of beauty which once characterised the Arab race might still be hoped for.