eye small, more round than long,

[p.14] piercing, fiery, deep-set, and brown rather than black. The head
is small, the ears well-cut, the face long and oval, though not
unfrequently disfigured by what is popularly called the “lantern-jaw”; the
forehead high, bony, broad, and slightly retreating, and the beard and
mustachios scanty, consisting of two tufts upon the chin, with,
generally speaking, little or no whisker. These are the points of
resemblance between the city and the country Arab. The difference is
equally remarkable. The temperament of the Madani is not purely
nervous, like that of the Badawi, but admits a large admixture of the
bilious, and, though rarely, the lymphatic. The cheeks are fuller, the
jaws project more than in the pure race, the lips are more fleshy, more
sensual and ill-fitting; the features are broader, and the limbs are
stouter and more bony. The beard is a little thicker, and the young
Arabs of the towns are beginning to imitate the Turks in that
abomination to their ancestors—shaving. Personal vanity, always a ruling
passion among Orientals, and a hopeless wish to emulate the flowing
beards of the Turks and the Persians—perhaps the only nations in the
world who ought not to shave the chin—have overruled even the religious
objections to such innovation. I was more frequently appealed to at
Al-Madinah than anywhere else, for some means of removing the
opprobrium “Kusah,” or scant-bearded man. They blacken the beard with
gall-nuts, henna, and other preparations, especially the Egyptian
mixture, composed of sulphate of iron one part, ammoniure of iron one
part, and gall-nuts two parts, infused in eight parts of distilled
water. It is a very bad dye. Much refinement of dress is now found at
Al-Madinah,—Constantinople, the Paris of the East, supplying it with the
newest fashions. Respectable men wear either a Benish or a Jubbah; the
latter, as at Meccah, is generally of some light and flashy colour,