however, that nobody wanted to intervene, that the occupation of Egypt would be most unpopular with the army, and that he himself should be very sorry to have to go there. He would far rather the Egyptians should disband their army and trust to European protection. But I told him I could not advise them to do that, and that people were not often attacked who really meant fighting. He said, 'Well, of course there is no such thing as honour in war, and if there were really any question of fighting, they ought not to trust us more than other people.'" He then talked about the various military routes to Cairo, Bonaparte's, by the left bank of the Nile, and especially the desert way between the Suez Canal and the Delta, so that I felt pretty sure that if troops were landed it would be on that side. But I was careful to give him no information which could be of the least use to him, and I only laughed when he half seriously asked me whether I would go with him and show him the way if it came to a campaign. My impression of Wolseley was of "a good smart soldier, an Irishman, with a rough touch of brogue, good humoured, and I should fancy enterprising. But he does not impress me as a man of genius—what Napoleon used to call a 'général à dix mille hommes.'" It is worth noting that in writing to Sheykh Mohammed Abdu, through my secretary, Sabunji, soon after this conversation, I alluded to the danger there might be, in case of intervention, of their being attacked from the Ismaïlia side, and I believe it was in consequence of this hint that the lines of Tel-el Kebir were begun to be traced by Arabi's order.
The same day I saw Lyall, whom