Notes from Egypt

Dearest Mutter,

Here I am again between Benisouef and Minieh, and already better for the clear air of the river and the tranquil boat life; I will send you my Christmas Salaam from Siout. While Alick was with me I had as much to do as I was able and could not write for there was much to see and talk about. I think he was amused but I fear he felt the Eastern life to be very poor and comfortless. I have got so used to having nothing that I had quite forgotten how it would seem to a stranger.

I am quite sorry to find how many of my letters must have been lost from Luxor; in future I shall trust the Arab post which certainly is safer than English travellers. I send you my long plaits by Alick, for I had my hair cut short as it took to falling out by handfuls after my fever, and moreover it is more convenient Turkish hareem fashion.

Please tell Dean Stanley how his old dragoman Mahommed Gazawee cried with pleasure when he told me he had seen Sheykh Stanley’s sister on her way to India, and the ‘little ladies’ knew his name and shook hands with him, which evidently was worth far more than the backsheesh. I wondered who ‘Sheykh’ Stanley could be, and Mahommed (who is a darweesh and very pious) told me he was the Gassis (priest) who was Imám (spiritual guide) to the son of our Queen, ‘and in truth,’ said he, ‘he is really a Sheykh and one who teaches the excellent things of religion, why he was kind even to his horse! and it is of the mercies of God to the English that such a one is the Imám of your Queen and Prince.’ I said laughing, ‘How dost thou, a darweesh among Muslims, talk thus of a Nazarene priest?’ ‘Truly oh Lady,’ he answered, ‘one who loveth all the creatures of God, him God loveth also, there is no doubt of that.’ Is any one bigot enough to deny that Stanley has done more for real religion in the mind of that Muslim darweesh than if he had baptised a hundred savages out of one fanatical faith into another?

There is no hope of a good understanding with Orientals until Western Christians can bring themselves to recognise the common faith contained in the two religions, the real difference consists in all the class of notions and feelings (very important ones, no doubt) which we derive—not from the Gospels at all—but from Greece and Rome, and which of course are altogether wanting here.

Alick will tell you how curiously Omar illustrated the patriarchal feelings of the East by entirely dethroning me in favour of the ‘Master.’ ‘That our Master, we all eat bread from his hand, and he work for us.’ Omar and I were equal before our Seedee. He can sit at his ease at my feet, but when the Master comes in he must stand reverently, and gave me to understand that I too must be respectful.

I have got the boat of the American Mission at an outrageous price, £60, but I could get nothing under; the consolation is that the sailors profit, poor fellows, and get treble wages. My crew are all Nubians. Such a handsome reis and steersman—brothers—and there is a black boy, of fourteen or so, with legs and feet so sweetly beautiful as to be quite touching—at least I always feel those lovely round young innocent forms to be somehow affecting. Our old boat of last summer (Arthur Taylor’s) is sailing in company with us, and stately old reis Mubharak hails me every morning with the Blessing of God and the Peace of the Prophet. Alee Kuptan, my steamboat captain will announce our advent at Thebes; he passed us to-day. This boat is a fine sailer, but iron built and therefore noisy, and not convenient. The crew encourage her with ‘Get along, father of three,’ because she has three sails, whereas two is the usual number. They are active good-humoured fellows—my men—but lack the Arab courtesy and simpatico ways, and then I don’t understand their language which is pretty and sounds a little like Caffre, rather bird-like and sing-song, instead of the clattering guttural Arabic. I now speak pretty tolerably for a stranger, i.e. I can keep up a conversation, and understand all that is said to me much better than I can speak, and follow about half what people say to each other. When I see you, Inshallah, next summer I shall be a good scholar, I hope.