In Cairo a man thinks it English to go into a tea-shop; but he does not think it French to go into a cafe.  And the people who go to the tea-shop, the English officers and officials, are stamped as English and also stamped as official.  They are generally genial, they are generally generous, but they have the detachment of a governing group and even a garrison.  They cannot be mistaken for human beings.  The people going to a cafe are simply human beings going to it because it is a human place.  They have forgotten how much is French and how much Egyptian in their civilisation; they simply think of it as civilisation.  Now this character of the older French culture must be grasped because it is the clue to many things in the mystery of the modern East.  I call it an old culture because as a matter of fact it runs back to the Roman culture.  In this respect the Gauls really continue the work of the Romans, in making something official which comes at last to be regarded as ordinary.  And the great fundamental fact which is incessantly forgotten and ought to be incessantly remembered, about these cities and provinces of the near East, is that they were once as Roman as Gaul.

There is a frivolous and fanciful debate I have often had with a friend, about whether it is better to find one’s way or to lose it, to remember the road or to forget it.  I am so constituted as to be capable of losing my way in my own village and almost in my own house.  And I am prepared to maintain the privilege to be a poetic one.  In truth I am prepared to maintain that both attitudes are valuable, and should exist side by side.  And so my friend and I walk side by side along the ways of the world, he being full of a rich and humane sentiment, because he remembers passing that way a few hundred times since his childhood; while to me existence is a perpetual fairy-tale, because I have forgotten all about it.  The lamp-post which moves him to a tear of reminiscence wrings from me a cry of astonishment; and the wall which to him is as historic as a pyramid is to me as arresting and revolutionary as a barricade.  Now in this, I am glad to say, my temperament is very English; and the difference is very typical of the two functions of the English and the French.  But in practical politics the French have a certain advantage in knowing where they are, and knowing it is where they have been before.  It is in the Roman Empire.

The position of the English in Egypt or even in Palestine is something of a paradox.  The real English claim is never heard in England and never uttered by Englishmen.  We do indeed hear a number of false English claims, and other English claims that are rather irrelevant than false.  We hear pompous and hypocritical suggestions, full of that which so often accompanies the sin of pride, the weakness of provinciality.  We hear suggestions that the English alone can establish anywhere a reign of law, justice, mercy, purity and all the rest of it.  We also