It is now twelve years since I began giving to the public tales of life
in lands well known to me. The first of them were drawn from Australia
and the Islands of the Southern Pacific, where I had lived and roamed
in the middle and late Eighties. They appeared in various English
magazines, and were written in London far from the scenes which
suggested them. None of them were written on the spot, as it were. I did
not think then, and I do not think now, that this was perilous to their
truthfulness. After many years of travel and home-staying observation
I have found that all worth remembrance, the salient things and scenes,
emerge clearly out of myriad impressions, and become permanent in mind
and memory. Things so emerging are typical at least, and probably true.
Those tales of the Far South were given out with some prodigality. They
did not appear in book form, however; for, at the time I was sending out
these Antipodean sketches, I was also writing--far from the scenes where
they were laid--a series of Canadian tales, many of which appeared in
the ‘Independent’ of New York, in the ‘National Observer’, edited by Mr.
Henley, and in the ‘Illustrated London News’. By accident, and on the
suggestion of my friend Mr. Henley, the Canadian tales ‘Pierre and his
People’ were published first; with the result that the stories of the
Southern Hemisphere were withheld from publication, though they have
been privately printed and duly copyrighted. Some day I may send them
forth, but meanwhile I am content to keep them in my own care.
Moved always by deep interest in the varied manifestations of life in
different portions of the Empire, five or six years ago I was attracted
to the Island of Jersey, in the Channel Sea, by the likeness of the
origin of her people with that of the French-Canadians. I went to live
at St. Heliers for a time, and there wrote a novel called ‘The Battle of
the Strong’.
Nor would it be thought strange that, having visited another and newer
sphere of England’s influence, Egypt to wit, in 1889, I should then
determine that, when I could study the country at leisure, I should
try to write of the life there, so full of splendour and of primitive
simplicity; of mystery and guilt; of cruel indolence and beautiful
industry; of tyranny and devoted slavery; of the high elements of a true
democracy and the shameful practices of a false autocracy; all touched
off by the majesty of an ancient charm, the nobility of the remotest
history.
The years went by, and, four times visiting Egypt, at last I began to
write of her. That is now five years ago. From time to time the stories
which I offer to the public in this volume were given forth. It is
likely that the old Anglo-Egyptian and the historical student may find
some anachronisms and other things to criticise; but the anachronisms
are deliberate, and even as in writing of Canada and Australia, which I
know very well, I have here, perhaps, sacrificed superficial exactness
while trying to give the more intimate meaning and spirit. I have never
thought it necessary to apologise for this disregard of photographic
accuracy,--that may be found in my note-books,--and I shall not begin to
do so now. I shall be sufficiently grateful if this series of tales does
no more than make ready the way for the novel of Egyptian life on which
I have been working for some years. It is an avant courier. I hope,
however, that it may be welcomed for its own sake.