DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.11448#0204
170
THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS.
[chap. xxiv.
What a problem does this tendency to identify ourselves with
the land that gave us birth afford ! This " fortunate fallacy," as
a distinguished political economist designates it, which, running
through the long predicamental line of family, tribe, country,
province, nation, is binding among men, who would disregard
the happiness of any individual composing it. Whatever phi-
losophers may say, however, it belongs to the best instincts of
fallen humanity, and, like filial affection, is found as influential
among these poor tyrant-ridden savages, as among the snowy
wastes of the Esquimaux, or the Senate of Great Britain.
One of our crew was a very intelligent, good-tempered boy,
about sixteen years of age, who seemed to consider the prospect
of an adventure the most irresistible temptation, and was as proud
of any little article of dress as a woman-child. R. proposed to
take him to Syria as his pipe-bearer, and told him he should have
a horse, and silk sash, and pistols. The boy's eyes glistened
as he heard these glories recapitulated ; then, suddenly his coun-
tenance fell, and with tears he replied—" Very good, very
grand ; but I cannot leave my mother." And so he went back
to his hard life, and squalid dress, and meagre food, with which
he is at this moment happier probably than if dragoman to a
prince, and—motherless.
The crew had sunk to sleep, R. had retired to the boat, the
villagers had disappeared among the palms, and I sat at the door
of my tent in solitude, looking out upon the sands that shone
silver white in contrast with the dark cliffs and masses of granite
that surrounded me. The roar of the distant cataract was con-
tinuous ; and now and then a peal of laughter, or a snatch of
song, broke from the village beyond the palms, and the jackal's
wailing cry answered from the cemetery in the desert.
I had just fallen asleep on my capote, when I heard an eager
sniffing at my ear, and felt a warm breath upon my cheek
which, even in my dreams, I knew came from no kindly watcher
of my slumbers ; as I slowly opened my eyes, I encountered
such a sight as almost made them close again, against what
seemed a hideous vision—between me and the moonlight stood
the gaunt, hog-backed form of a hysena, all bristling with excite-
ment ; and within arm's length, his large, round, ghastly eyes
THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS.
[chap. xxiv.
What a problem does this tendency to identify ourselves with
the land that gave us birth afford ! This " fortunate fallacy," as
a distinguished political economist designates it, which, running
through the long predicamental line of family, tribe, country,
province, nation, is binding among men, who would disregard
the happiness of any individual composing it. Whatever phi-
losophers may say, however, it belongs to the best instincts of
fallen humanity, and, like filial affection, is found as influential
among these poor tyrant-ridden savages, as among the snowy
wastes of the Esquimaux, or the Senate of Great Britain.
One of our crew was a very intelligent, good-tempered boy,
about sixteen years of age, who seemed to consider the prospect
of an adventure the most irresistible temptation, and was as proud
of any little article of dress as a woman-child. R. proposed to
take him to Syria as his pipe-bearer, and told him he should have
a horse, and silk sash, and pistols. The boy's eyes glistened
as he heard these glories recapitulated ; then, suddenly his coun-
tenance fell, and with tears he replied—" Very good, very
grand ; but I cannot leave my mother." And so he went back
to his hard life, and squalid dress, and meagre food, with which
he is at this moment happier probably than if dragoman to a
prince, and—motherless.
The crew had sunk to sleep, R. had retired to the boat, the
villagers had disappeared among the palms, and I sat at the door
of my tent in solitude, looking out upon the sands that shone
silver white in contrast with the dark cliffs and masses of granite
that surrounded me. The roar of the distant cataract was con-
tinuous ; and now and then a peal of laughter, or a snatch of
song, broke from the village beyond the palms, and the jackal's
wailing cry answered from the cemetery in the desert.
I had just fallen asleep on my capote, when I heard an eager
sniffing at my ear, and felt a warm breath upon my cheek
which, even in my dreams, I knew came from no kindly watcher
of my slumbers ; as I slowly opened my eyes, I encountered
such a sight as almost made them close again, against what
seemed a hideous vision—between me and the moonlight stood
the gaunt, hog-backed form of a hysena, all bristling with excite-
ment ; and within arm's length, his large, round, ghastly eyes