It is monstrous for any missionary of the British Syrian schools or otherwise, to pretend that my husband was recalled, because I defended myself against the man who attacked me. The real cause was very different; it was his one endeavour to do what England professes to admire (theoretically, anyway), what Richard did in practice, namely, sacrifice himself for Christianity's sake!
Difficulty of English Officials doing their Duty.
And here I must be allowed a by-word. People in small official life are always subject to these trials, and, knowing this, how careful a Minister at home should be in listening to complaints! The lower an officer's grade, the lower the people he has to contend with. The Consul deals with all classes; when he rises to be Minister or Ambassador, he is above the mob, which cannot touch him. The enemies of the Consul will crawl in the dust to the Minister. Meantime the junior official has to run the gauntlet of the mud pelted at him, and if his Chief at home listens to it, a weak man dare not do his duty for fear of losing his post; the strong man does his duty, but he knows he has no chance of rising. Only the bad man succeeds.
He arrives at a new place, and all the bad people make a dead set at him to take up and protect their evil doings and to join them against their local enemies. If he does it he is upheld by them, but loses caste with the decent classes; if he does not, they form a cabal, and even pay people to write home complaint after complaint against him, till the Minister for Foreign Affairs, who knows nothing of these matters, says, "There must be something wrong about this man, or I should not get bad reports of him right and left. It is evident he won't do for the place." He recalls his good, honest, brave servant, who was doing his Master credit, and he puts him on a shelf to pine in useless inactivity, and breaks his spirit, and sends out another, who naturally says, "I am duly warned what to do. I will take care not to do what my unfortunate predecessor did, but the reverse." He has learnt that the "decent people" only looked on, or if one or two did take his part, they were not believed, or not listened to. He does as the others bid him—"wins golden opinions"—and the Minister at home thinks it is all as it should be. Who shall blame the man? He has, perhaps, a wife and children to support, and he yearns for promotion. If he sees but one road to his Chief's favour, that of "hearing no complaints of him," what shall he do? What consolation has he when he is driven out of the world by penury, and has to earn his pittance in some out-of-the-way settlement? How easy are the sacrifices of an independent man, who can afford to bide his time!
I have seen many cases of this kind during thirty years of Consular life, and personally I was always acting the part of Job's wife, but unsuccessfully. Richard had no chance of rising to his proper position; he was much too good. The "light of God" was upon him. The Home Authorities heard all the complaints; he did not report to them the good he did, but I will cry it from the house-tops until all hear it. He gained respect and influence over all classes. All the good and the poor loved and trusted him; the bad feared him. He had pre-eminently the Divine gift of pity. He had some talisman for attracting the people; and when they got a written order from him, they would kiss it and put it on their heads as if it were a Sultan's Firman. He was more than equal to his position if he had been only commonly backed up at home.
With so many races, creeds, and tongues, all at variance, in an Oriental intriguing focus, it is impossible to please everybody. You cannot well walk down the street without treading upon somebody's toes. It is difficult for a man who does his duty in a hotbed of corruption to be universally popular, and there are some whose disapproval is a proof of integrity. One must have a straight line of duty. If a person wants you to do something wrong, and you act uprightly and refuse, they are sure to write to some great personage at home, to ask them to complain at head-quarters. They never mention what they asked you to do—what bribe they offered—but invent something against you. If they are listened to, they can always keep you in hot water, as cela encourage les autres.
"To R. F. B.
"Ever remember, 'tis Pretension rules
Half men, three-thirds of women—to wit, the fools.
In yonder coterie see, my friend, yon pair
Of vapid witlings waging wordy war,
While female senates hear, in trembling awe,
This thing and that thing laying down the law.
Murmured applause shall fill each greedy ear,
Of 'Charming man!' 'Delightful, clever dear!'
And Lady Betty lends her sweetest smile
T' inflame their ardour and their toils beguile.
Yet those same lips no word of worth afford
To thy true heart, strong brain, quick pen, sharp sword.
Pine not, brave soul! he whom such trifles vex,
Unfit to serve, much less can rule the sex.
Ask not the remedy—go, win a name,
Famous or infamous, 'tis much the same;
For silly girls and shallow youths make game
Of God-like nature, all unknown to fame;
But souls select, instinctive, recognize
Congenial spirits unmarked to vulgar eyes.
You asked what caused this egotistic strain—
The fit is on me; let me here explain.
Fools, seeing in youth a hero's value spurned,
Ignored a heart and soul that fondly yearned
And burned for honours honourably earned;
His teens long passed, exiled in distant land,
A noble heart held out the long-sought hand,
Taught him to labour, strengthened him to wait
The turn of fortune's tide that makes us great.
Nor years' long lapse, nor change, nor fate can raze
From Mem'ry's page those words of kindly praise.
If one man's name on our heart's page be penned,
'Tis his—no need to name our true best friend."[10]
——Isabel Burton.
Some of us are left in the world to fight our battle. There are strong souls who can resist all attacks; nothing overthrows them, nothing can even hurt them. The devil makes war upon the world, but especially upon them. Nevertheless, it is as hard for a brave spirit to hold its own, and see its fancied treasures falling away from it in the hour of need, as for a gallant and successful general, on the eve of victory, in the turn of the battle, to be deserted by his troops, and left, in spite of his own qualities, to disgrace and death.