THE CHARM OF EGYPT.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXXIII, Issue 15902, 13 April 1912, Page 8

THE CHARM OF EGYPT.

To me (says a writer in tho “ Daily Chronicle ”), the mystery of Egypt ii strangely akin to the mystery of woman. The Sphinx—yes, it is an unforgettable experience to have been ini t.he presence of the Sphinx I —-seems, in, fact, entirely sexless. Yet we always think of the Sphinx as a- woman. When one travels in Algeria or Morocco! there is something virile, barbario, about the palce and ]x>oj>le. But

EGYPT HAS A woman’s SUBTLE SPELL. Curiously enough, I believe that historically, since the time of tha Pharaohs, women have held sway in Egypt nowhere else—the land of Isis and the great Goddess Nut. Above -all, in its tantalising and mysterious reauty, in its weakness and in its strength, Egypt holds one captive with a woman’s charm. We can rule her, but 1 doubt if we shall ever quite understand her. Again and again I have been told by Egyptian fella hia that they are glad of our governance—that they thank us for all the practical benefits we have brought them, but I have always felt that behind it all there is a’ mocking inscrutable 6mila at all our protests and assumptions. In some things one feels that we have committed something very -like sacrilege. We have destroyed the beauty of Phvlae to make the Assouan dam.' We have pillaged the tombs of tho Pharaohs and stacked the gods in museums to he gaped at with sixpenny catalogue. We have turned the Nil* into a tourists’ pageant and Cairo into an Earl’s Court exhibition. Wo have done almost everything that

SOLID, PRACTICAL VANDALISM can do. But I doubt if the heart of Egypt does not still remain elusive and ‘ uneaptvired. This, of course, may be only the romanticist’s point of view—one.to whom the dream is more than the realitv. Anyhow I would advise anyone of this turn of mind to go to Egypt out of the season, wliqn tho tourists are not there, and ouo can wander alone through those majestic temples, and watch tho sunset on the Nile—making it seem like a river of molten gold and purple eddies—without having to listen meanwhile to the latest tittle-tattle from Paris and Piccadilly. Then there is the desert—the same desert whether one views it from Egypt) or Algeria. I am afraid it would be quite Impossible to describe or convey bv any means at all, the fascination of the- desert- to busy, town-bred folk. It is indescribable. I can quite under* stand wlinfc some recent despatches have revealed about the “ desert-mad-ness” that affects some of the Italian soldiers, after gazing hour by hour into that- illimitable sea of sand. Balzaa has written that-

THE.DESERT IS " GOD WITHOUT MAX,” and I think that expresses th« feelings "it inspires as well aa anything 1 have ever heard. But to "those whose minds cannot for one roasoii or another tune themselves to its vastness and its solitude, maddening it may well be. And here perhaps you might let me just say a word as to our 'English criticisms of those Italian troops. Here, as elsewhere, I think we have been a little overrightcous. Personally, I agree with every word that Prince Teauo, whom I know well, and who has every reason to be friendly towards the Arabs, has written on this subject. You must remember that there was undoubted treachery. Do you not think that if you had seen your comrades shot down front behind by supposed friends and allies, you might have done the same? I, too, have' many friends among the Arabs, and there is something splendid about the Arab character. But- where individual treachery is concerned it is use, less to talk of racis.i distinctions;