b race was ever as great a race
as we were inclined to give it credit for being.
"All the same, if it hadn't been for your ancestors, we might have
all been Moslems now," Owen said, stopping to admire what remained
of the race which had conquered Spain and nearly conquered France.
"Now they are outcasts of our civilisation--but what noble outcasts!
That fellow, he is old, and without a corner, perhaps, where to lay
his head, but he walks magnificently in his ragged bournous. He is
poor, but he isn't a beggar; his life is sordid, but it isn't
trivial; he retains his grand walk and his solemn salute; and if he
has never created an art, himself is proof that he isn't without the
artistic sentiment."
Beclere looked at Owen in surprise, and Owen, thinking to astonish
him, added:
"His poverty and his filth are sublime; he is a Jew from Amsterdam
painted by Rembrandt, or a Jew from Palestine described by the
authors of the Pentateuch."
"The Jew is a tougher fellow to deal with; he cannot be eradicated,
but the Arab was very nearly passing away. If he had insisted on
remaining the noble outcast which you admire, he would not have
survived the Red Indian many hundreds of years. I don't contest
whether to lose him would be a profit or a loss, but when
civilisation comes the native race must accept it or extinction."
"I suppose you're right," Owen answered, "I suppose you're right."
And they stopped to look at an Arab town; some of it was in the plain
below, some of it ran up the steep hillside, on the summit of which
was a ruined mosque.
"Why did they choose to build up such a steep hillside?"
"The oasis is limited, and the plain is devoted to orchards. Look at
the village! If you were to visit their town, you would not find a
street in which a camel could turn round, hardly any windows, and
the doors always half closed. They are still suspicious of us and
anxious to avoid our inquisition. Yes, that is the characteristic of
the Arab, to conceal himself; and his wife, and his business from
us."
"One can sympathise with the desire to avoid inquisition, and
notwithstanding the genius of your race--no one is more sympathetic
to you than I am--yet it is impossible not to see that your fault is
red tapeism, and that is what the Arab hates. You see I understand."
"I don't think I am unsympathetic, and the Arabs don't think it.
Perhaps there is no man in Africa who can travel as securely as I
can--even in the Soud
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