The Egyptians are extremely courteous to each other, and have a peculiar grace and dignity in their manner of salutation and their general demeanour, combined with easiness of address, which seem natural to them, being observable even in the peasants. The middle and higher classes of townspeople pride themselves upon their politeness and elegance of manners, and their wit, and fluency of speech; and with some justice: but they are not less free in their conversation than their less accomplished fellow-countrymen. Affability is a general characteristic of the Egyptians of all classes. It is common for strangers, even in a shop, after mutual salutation, to enter into conversation with each other with as much freedom as if they were old acquaintances; and for one who has a pipe to offer it to another who has none; and it is not unusual, nor is it generally considered unpolite, for persons in a first, casual meeting, to ask each other’s names, professions or trades, and places of abode. Lasting acquaintances are often formed on such occasions.[[328]] In the middle and higher ranks of Egyptian society, it is very seldom that a man is heard to say anything offensive to the feelings of another in his company; and the most profligate never venture to utter an expression meant to cast ridicule upon sincere religion: most persons, however, in every class, are otherwise more or less licentious in their conversation, and extremely fond of joking. They are generally very lively and dramatic in their talk; but scarcely ever noisy in their mirth. They seldom indulge in loud laughter; expressing their enjoyment of anything ludicrous by a smile or an exclamation.
CHAPTER IX.
LANGUAGE, LITERATURE, AND SCIENCE.
The metropolis of Egypt maintains the comparative reputation by which it has been distinguished for many centuries, of being the best school of Arabic literature, and of Muslim theology and jurisprudence. Learning, indeed, has much declined among the Arabs universally; but least in Cairo: consequently, the fame of the professors of this city still remains unrivalled; and its great collegiate mosque, the Azhar, continues to attract innumerable students from every quarter of the Muslim world.
The Arabic spoken by the middle and higher classes in Cairo is generally inferior, in point of grammatical correctness and pronunciation, to the dialects of the Bedawees of Arabia, and of the inhabitants of the towns in their immediate vicinity; but much to be preferred to those of Syria; and still more, to those of the Western Arabs. The most remarkable peculiarities in the pronunciation of the people of Egypt are the following:—The fifth letter of the alphabet is pronounced by the natives of Cairo, and throughout the greater part of Egypt, as g in give; while, in most parts of Arabia, and in Syria and other countries, it receives the sound of j in joy: but it is worthy of remark, that, in a part of southern Arabia, where, it is said, Arabic was first spoken, the former sound is given to this letter.[[329]] In those parts of Egypt where this pronunciation of the fifth letter prevails, the sound of “hemzeh” (which is produced by a sudden emission of the voice after a total suppression) is given to the twenty-first letter, excepting by the better instructed, who give to this letter its true sound, which I represent by “k.” In other parts of Egypt, the pronunciation of the fifth letter is the same as that of j in joy, or nearly so; and the twenty-first letter is pronounced as g in give. By all the Egyptians, in common with most other people who speak the Arabic language, the third and fourth letters of the alphabet are pronounced alike, as our t; and the eighth and ninth, as our d.—Of the peculiarities in the structure of the Egyptian dialect of Arabic, the most remarkable are, the annexation of the letter “sheen” in negative phrases, in the same manner as the word “pas” is used in French; as “má yerdásh,” for “má yerda,” “he will not consent;” “má hoosh teiyib,” (vulgarly, “mósh teiyib”), for “má huwa teiyib,” “it is not good:” the placing the demonstrative pronoun after the word to which it relates; as “el-beyt dé,” “this house;” and a frequent unnecessary use of the diminutive form in adjectives: as “sugheiyir,” for “sagheer,” “small;” “kureiyib,” for “kareeb,” “near.”
There is not so much difference between the literary and vulgar[vulgar] dialects of Arabic as some European Orientalists have supposed: the latter may be described as the ancient dialect simplified, principally by the omission of the final vowels and other terminations which distinguish the different cases of nouns and some of the persons of verbs.[[330]] Nor is there so great a difference between the dialects of Arabic spoken in different countries as some persons, who have not held intercourse with the inhabitants of such countries, have imagined: they resemble each other more than the dialects of some of the different counties in England. The Arabic language abounds with synonyms; and, of a number of words which are synonymous, one is in common use in one country, and another elsewhere. Thus, the Egyptian calls milk “leben;” the Syrian calls it “haleeb:” the word “leben,” is used in Syria to denote a particular preparation of sour milk. Again, bread is called in Egypt “’eysh;” and in other Arab countries, “khubz;” and many examples of a similar kind might be adduced.—The pronunciation of Egypt has more softness than that of Syria and most other countries in which Arabic is spoken.
The literature of the Arabs is very comprehensive; but the number of their books is more remarkable than the variety. The relative number of the books which treat of religion and jurisprudence may be stated to be about one-fourth: next in number are works on grammar, rhetoric, and various branches of philology: the third in the scale of proportion are those on history (chiefly that of the Arab nation), and on geography: the fourth, poetical compositions. Works on medicine, chemistry, the mathematics, algebra, and various other sciences, etc., are comparatively very few.
There are, in Cairo, many large libraries; most of which are attached to mosques, and consist, for the greater part, of works on theology and jurisprudence, and philology. Several rich merchants, and others, have also good libraries. The booksellers of Cairo are, I am informed, only eight in number;[[331]] and their shops are but ill stocked. Whenever a valuable book comes into the possession of one of these persons, he goes round with it to his regular customers; and is almost sure of finding a purchaser. The leaves of the books are seldom sewed together; but they are usually enclosed in a cover bound with leather; and mostly have, also, an outer case of pasteboard and leather. Five sheets, or double leaves, are commonly placed together, one within another; composing what is called a “karrás.” The leaves are thus arranged, in small parcels, without being sewed, in order that one book may be of use to a number of persons at the same time; each taking a karrás. The books are laid flat, one upon another; and the name is written upon the front of the outer case, or upon the edge of the leaves. The paper is thick and glazed: it is mostly imported from Venice, and glazed in Egypt. The ink is very thick and gummy. Reeds are used instead of pens; and they suit the Arabic character much better. The Arab, in writing, places the paper upon his knee, or upon the palm of his left hand, or upon what is called a “misned′eh,” composed of a dozen or more pieces of paper attached together at the four corners, and resembling a thin book, which he rests on his knee. His ink and pens are contained in a receptacle called “dawáyeh,” mentioned in the first chapter of this work, together with the penknife, and an ivory instrument (“mikattah”) upon which the pen is laid to be nibbed. He rules his paper by laying under it a piece of pasteboard with strings strained and glued across it (called a “mistar′ah”), and slightly pressing it over each string. Scissors are included among the apparatus of a writer: they are used for cutting the paper; a torn edge being considered as unbecoming. In Cairo there are many persons who obtain their livelihood by copying manuscripts. The expense of writing a karrás of twenty pages, quarto size, with about twenty-five lines to a page, in an ordinary hand, is about three piasters (or a little more than sevenpence of our money); but more if in an elegant hand; and about double the sum if with the vowel points, etc.
In Egypt, and particularly in its metropolis, those youths or men who purpose to devote themselves to religious employments, or to any of the learned professions, mostly pursue a course of study in the great mosque El-Azhar, having previously learned nothing more than to read, and, perhaps, to write, and to recite the Kur-án. The Azhar, which is regarded as the principal university[[332]] of the East, is an extensive building, surrounding a large, square court. On one side of this court, the side towards Mekkeh, is the chief place of prayer, a spacious portico; on each of the other three sides are smaller porticoes, divided into a number of apartments, called “riwáks,” each of which is destined for the use of natives of a particular country, or of a particular province of Egypt. This building is situated within the metropolis. It is not remarkable in point of architecture, and is so surrounded by houses that very little of it is seen externally. The students are called “mugáwireen.”[[333]] Each riwák has a library for the use of its members; and from the books which it contains, and the lectures of the professors, the students acquire their learning. The regular subjects of study are grammatical inflexion and syntax, rhetoric, versification, logic, theology, the exposition of the Kur-án, the Traditions of the Prophet, the complete science of jurisprudence, or rather of religious, moral, civil, and criminal law, which is chiefly founded on the Kur-án and the Traditions, together with arithmetic, as far as it is useful in matters of law. Lectures are also given on algebra, and on the calculations of the Mohammadan calendar, the times of prayer, etc. Different books are read by students of different sects. Most of the students, being natives of Cairo, are of the Sháfe’ee sect; and always the Sheykh, or head of the mosque, is of this sect. None of the students pay for the instruction they receive, being mostly of the poorer classes. Most of those who are strangers, having riwáks appropriated to them, receive a daily allowance of food, provided from funds chiefly arising from the rents of houses bequeathed for their maintenance. Those of Cairo and its neighbourhood used to receive a similar allowance; but this they no longer enjoy, excepting during the month of Ramadán; for the present Básha of Egypt has taken possession of all the cultivable land which belonged to the mosques; and thus the Azhar has lost the greater portion of the property which it possessed: nothing but the expenses of necessary repairs, and the salaries of its principal officers, are provided for by the government. The professors also receive no salaries. Unless they inherit property, or have relations to maintain them, they have no regular means of subsistence but teaching in private houses, copying books, etc.; but they sometimes receive presents from the wealthy. Any person who is competent to the task may become a professor by obtaining a licence from the Sheykh of the mosque. The students mostly obtain their livelihood by the same means as the professors, or by reciting the Kur-án in private houses, and at the tombs and other places. When sufficiently advanced in their studies, some of them become kádees, muftees, imáms of mosques, or schoolmasters, in their native villages or towns, or in Cairo; others enter into trade; some remain all their lifetime studying in the Azhar, and aspire to be ranked among the higher ’Ulama. Since the confiscation of the lands which belonged to the Azhar, the number of that class of students to whom no endowed riwák is appropriated has very much decreased. The number of students, including all classes excepting the blind, is (as I am informed by one of the professors) about one thousand five hundred.[[334]]
There is a chapel (called “Záwiyet el-’Omyán,” or the Chapel of the Blind), adjacent to the eastern angle of the Azhar, and one of the dependencies of that mosque, where at present about three hundred poor blind men, most of whom are students, are maintained from funds bequeathed for that purpose. These blind men often conduct themselves in a most rebellious and violent manner; they are notorious for such conduct and for their fanaticism. A short time ago, a European traveller entering the Azhar, and his presence there being buzzed about, the blind men eagerly inquired, “Where is the infidel?” adding, “We will kill him!” and groping about at the same time to feel and lay hold of him; they were the only persons who seemed desirous of showing any violence to the intruder. Before the accession of the present Básha, they often behaved in a very outrageous manner whenever they considered themselves oppressed, or scanted in their allowance of food; they would, on these occasions, take a few guides, go about with staves, seize the turbans of passengers in the streets, and plunder the shops. The most celebrated of the present professors in the Azhar, the sheykh El-Kuweysinee,[[335]] who is himself blind, being appointed, a few years ago, Sheykh of the Záwiyet el-’Omyán, as soon as he entered upon his office, caused every one of the blind men there to be flogged; but they rose against him, bound him, and inflicted upon him a flogging far more severe than that which they had themselves endured, and obliged him to give up his office.