1891
Æt. 41
Dahabeah, Ammon Ra, Denderah: January 6, 1891.
I can, I fear, ill repay you for your very interesting letter of the 24th. All I can say is that it was thoroughly appreciated. I have little or nothing to tell you. A life without incident and without emotion has many advantages; but does not lend itself to correspondence, either as regards energy or material. I have seen Philæ and the Cataract, as also the temples of Edfoo and of this place—most interesting. Also a long expedition from Luxor to the tombs of the kings, some four thousand years old. Each king must have passed his lifetime in making his tomb, and if it was not finished when he died he had to go without. The weather has been perfect—day after day of cloudless skies, cool breezes and unparalleled sunsets. We read, we smoke, we lounge, we play picquet—at which I continue to hold exceedingly indifferent cards.... We shall dawdle out our time here as much as possible, as we do not want to be more than a day in Cairo.
To Sir Henry James, who wrote him accounts of the strange developments at Westminster, he framed a more elaborate reply than was usual with him in private correspondence:—
Dahabea, ‘Ammon Ra.’ Edfu, 60 miles south of Luxor:
Jan. 3, 1891.
Your amiable and friendly letter reached me here this morning on my return from a visit to and prolonged study of a temple erected by the Ptolemies 250 B.C. It is ridiculously modern compared with Karnac, but its comparatively perfect state enables one usefully to imagine what Karnac was. In such a frame of mind, embracing a period of 10,000 years, your home politics, your House of Commons interests, the eloquence of Smith, the courage of Balfour, the honesty of Hartington, the financial genius of Goschen and the adroitness of Joe, all acted upon, stimulated and developed by the lax morals of Parnell, present themselves to my mental optics much in the same manner as fleas may attract the notice of an elephant. I am living with Rameses, Thotmes and Seti, and I have despised the Ptolemies as parvenus, and Cleopatra as ——! Imagine therefore how infinitely little becomes the struggle of the Kilkenny factions, the senile drivellings of Mr. Gladstone on Ravenswood which you think worthy of mention, the remorse of the officeless Harcourt or the doubting gloom of Morley. Here on this placid expanse of limitless plain and river and among these Egyptian temples you appear to me, as I say, like performing fleas. I was once a flea like you and skipped as nimbly as any of you, but have by some Pythagorean process emerged from that abject condition, and prefer musings over an immense past to worryings over a little present.
In addition to the attractions of this country and of its historic associations, we have and enjoy ideal weather, perfect peace, absence of all noise and a floating domicile in all respects comfortable; good food, hock, champagne, Pilsener beer, Marquis chocolate, ripe bananas, fresh dates, and literally hundreds of French novels, recourse to which is interrupted by games of picquet, in which the lucky Harry T[yrrwhit] has gained of me 10,000 1d. points. French novels, cards and Egyptian temples assimilate pleasantly, but English newspapers and English news are out of tune with these surroundings. And what pleases me most in your letter is the reflection to which it gives rise, that I still exist in the memory of a friend.
This is the part of the world in which you must pass your next winter. This heavenly climate will tame the most ferocious gout and tranquillise the most irritated nerves. If all is well, I will conduct you here next winter, introduce to you my friends Rameses & Co., forbid you the acquaintance of the vulgar Ptolemies, and gain from you 10,000 1d. points at picquet.