So far I have spoken of the Egyptians collectively, and I have aimed at sketching as faithfully as possible, not the views or ideas of a class but those which are common to the whole body of the people of all ranks and grades. Whether there is any one Egyptian, or any class of the Egyptians, to whom my description might be applied without any qualification or modification is probably doubtful, but that that description, taken in the sense and to the extent intended, is absolutely correct there is no doubt whatever. The Egyptians of to-day are divided in opinion upon many points, social, political, and religious; how much so is evident in the fact that of their many newspapers and periodicals not one is wholly and fully in accord with any other. To have attempted to give the reader a well-defined portrait of each and all of the classes thus formed—had it been possible to do so—could only have resulted in bewildering him; all the more so that, as yet, there is no one class in the country that is not undergoing, more or less consciously, a process of change. It is scarcely possible that it should be otherwise. I have written, so far, entirely in vain if I have not succeeded in conveying to the mind of my reader a clear conception of the fact that the people are as yet but slowly feeling their way towards the adoption of a definite social and political programme. In the maze of conflicting ideas resulting from this condition there are clear and indisputable evidences of a general tendency towards the final acceptance of certain principles that, once definitely adopted, must dominate the whole future of the people. Of these the most prominent is that internal and external peace are absolutely essential to the welfare of the country and of the people, collectively and individually. Of any one thousand Egyptians taken at random from among any grade or large class of the people, I am certain there are not ten who do not sincerely hold this opinion. One and all desire a greater or less change in existing conditions, but they desire that change to be wrought without any sudden or violent disturbance of those conditions. This, without any qualification whatever, is the fact that is the most essential to be realised at the present moment by anyone who would understand the Egyptian of to-day. It is the one influence that practically controls all the others that are affecting the people. The existence of the "Nationalist" party does not in the least disprove this, nor does the popularity of the organs of that party disprove it. The attacks upon the English occupation so widely spread in the country, and almost as widely applauded, have no more influence upon the people than a "transpontine" melodrama of the old type had upon the "gods" who roared themselves hoarse in rapturous applause of its most virtuous sentiments. All the Arab-speaking peoples are alike in this—that there is nothing else that can so stir their enthusiasm or so fill them with delight as the sonorous melody of well-turned phrases and sentences in their native tongue. If the sense of what they hear be clear and evident, they enjoy it the more, but however dense and impenetrable its meaning may be, the music, the rhythm and harmony of its sounds draws their applause. So even the most illiterate of the people will listen with keen enjoyment to a long political article of which the meaning of all but a sentence or two is wholly beyond their comprehension. Thus the glowing periods of the Nationalist Press find ready applause, but awaken no echo in the hearts of the people. Unfortunately it is only too much the same with the papers of a higher type, and these labour under the disadvantage that, of necessity, their articles dealing with prosaic topics do not admit of the ornate style of their rivals. None the less it is unquestionable that it is these papers which are exercising the greatest influence upon the thoughts and ambitions of the people, and their influence is, as I have said, almost wholly one for good. The great mass of the people listen to the reading of the newspapers just as the great majority of church-going people at home listen to sermons—as most edifying and commendable, but as having no practical bearing upon the affairs of life—yet, as I have already pointed out, the Moayyad has been, and is, exerting a wider and always growing influence, and is not only teaching the people to think, but teaching them to think clearly and well.

And now we may look for a moment at the Egyptian as an individual. To do justice to this subject would need a volume, not a paragraph. Fortunately the reader can turn to "Lane's Modern Egyptians," in the pages of which he will find a wealth of detailed information needing but little modification to bring it up to date, though it fails to give a clear, well-defined idea of the Egyptian in his daily life. Let me attempt to supply this deficiency, by saying that, according to his class, the average Egyptian corresponds very closely with the average Englishman. Roughly, the whole of the people may be divided into five classes. First, the Ulema, the natural leaders of all the others; secondly, the wealthy landowners and others of independent means; thirdly, the "educated," mainly professional men and Government servants; fourthly, the great middle class of small land and house owners, lower grades of the Government services, merchants, and so forth; fifthly, the working classes, including artisans, craftsmen, labourers, and all who work for their living. Of each class a book might be written, yet I may sum up in broad but accurate outline the character of each by saying that it is in the main that of the same class at home. Let me take the middle-class man. Getting through his morning and the day's work, his one idea is to reach home. On his way by train or tram he greets cordially his acquaintances, discusses with them the news of the day, compares their business or official experiences, growls at the shortcomings of the Government or the tramways, deplores the growing cost of living, and laughs over the latest joke or jest. Once home, he has his favourite easy-chair and newspapers, and has an hour or so of rest with these, seasoned with the chat of the harem as to the misdoings of the children or of the servants, the coming of visitors, household finance, and a hundred other topics. Then out for an hour or so to this favourite café, where he reads the latest papers—Moslem and Christian—and has a game or two of backgammon, all the while taking an active part in the brisk fire of conversation going on around him. Then home again to the ease and comfort of the harem, or possibly to entertain some visitors with the unstinted hospitality of his race. Then supper, and then to bed. And through all the day, at home, in his office, on his way to and fro, if you could but follow his doings and his sayings, you would find him in both a very close copy of the man of the same class at home, interested in the same subjects, discussing the same matters, laughing at the same type of jest, grumbling at the same grievances, and withal a man anxious to please and be agreeable, and easily pleased and conciliated. Freer than the Englishman in his amities and friendships, ready to chat or joke with his barber or his baker, but, like the Englishman, most at ease and enjoying himself best in his own special circle.

And now I must hasten to a conclusion, and reply briefly to one or two questions that my reader may possibly be inclined to ask.

What has the occupation done for the Egyptians?

It has secured them the personal freedom they so highly prize, it has given them the liberty of getting, keeping, or spending wealth, a free Press, a knowledge and keen appreciation of the advantages of a properly organised Government, a clearer perception of the natural "rights of man" and of the personal dignity of the humblest, and, as a result of these, enlarged ambitions and aspirations, greater independence of spirit, and a better conception of the interdependence of each one upon his fellow-men.

Not much in mere words, but in the reality of the resulting whole an entirely immeasurable amount of good—an amount of good no living man can even approximately estimate, much less appreciate. Possibly some of our children's children will be able to form some adequate conception of its greatness. We of to-day can no more understand its meaning than did the Barons at Runnymede understand the meaning of the great charter they wrung from the unwilling John.

Has the occupation failed in any respect?

It has in two vitally important matters. It has not in any way qualified the people or any class of the people to undertake the government of the country. It has not educated the people, or done anything whatever to ensure the permanency of the good that has been done.

As to these failures, I do not think that any other result could have been attained under the circumstances that have prevailed. Lord Cromer, as a sincere well-wisher of the people and a man of advanced liberal opinion and progressive mind, was the man of all others to work for these things directly and openly if it had been possible for him to do so; but it was not possible, or has only become so since the evacuation of Fachoda. Up to that event the only possible form of Government by which the welfare of the country and of its people could be secured, was that which Lord Cromer adopted—a "benevolent despotism." No other form of Government could by any conceivable possibility have attained the results that have been attained, and that form of Government could only attain those results when in the hands of a man such as Lord Cromer. None the less, as Mill has said, a benevolent despotism "is an altogether false ideal.... Evil for evil, a good despotism, in a country at all advanced in civilisation, is more noxious than a bad one; for it is more relaxing and enervating to the thoughts, feelings, and energies of the people." In Egypt, however, this effect is modified by the attachment of the people to the Turkish Empire, by their objection to non-Moslem rulers, and by all the unhealthy influences of which I have spoken; but while the great mass of the people would much prefer to see the administration of the country entirely in the hands of Mahomedans, they have absolutely no desire for any other change in the present form of the Government.

To-day, in spite of all that has been done, Egypt in one most vital matter stands absolutely far behind the position it occupied when the English occupation commenced. Then there was a governing class in the country—a "misgoverning" class, if you will, yet a class that had some conception of, and experience in the art of governing; a class the members of which were accustomed to bear the responsibility of Ministers. To-day that class, and those men, have ceased to exist.