are to do right. Dare to be true
He had a work that no other could do;
He would do it so wisely, so bravely, so well,
That angels might hasten the story to tell."

After some time he writes:--

"How the Khedive is towards me I don't know, but thank God he prevents
me caring for any one's favour or disfavour. I honestly say I do not
know anyone who would endure the exile and worries of my position out
here. Some might fear if they were dismissed, that the world would
talk. Thank God! I am screened from that fear. I know that I have
done my best, as far as my intellect would allow me, for the Khedive,
and have tried to be just to all."

On contemplating retirement, he writes:--

"Now imagine what I lose by coming back, if God so wills it; a life in
a tent, with a cold humid air at night, to which if, from the heat of
the tent you expose yourself, you will suffer for it, either in liver
or elsewhere. The most ordinary fare. _Most_ ordinary I can assure
you; no vegetables, dry biscuits, a few bits of broiled meat, and some
dry macaroni, boiled in water and sugar. I forgot some soup; up at
dawn and to bed between eight and nine p.m. No books but one, and
that not often read for long, for I cannot sit down for a study of
those mysteries. All day long, worrying about writing orders, to be
obeyed by others in the degree as they are near or distant from me:
obliged to think of the veriest trifle, even to the knocking off the
white ants from the stores, etc.--that is one's life; and, speaking
materially, for what gain? At the end of two years, say 2,000 pounds.
At the end of three say 3,500 pounds at the outside. The gain to be
called 'His Excellency,' and this money. Yet his poor 'Excellency'
has to slave more than any individual; to pull ropes, to mend this;
make a cover to that (just finished a capital cover to the duck Gun).
I often say, 'drop the excellency, and do this instead.'"

Again he writes:--

"This country would soon cure a man of his ambition, I think, and make
him content with his lot. The intense heat, and other stagnation
except you have some disagreeable incident, would tame the most
enthusiastic; a thin, miserable tent under which you sit, with the
perspiration pouring off you. A month of this life, and you would be
dissatisfied with your lot."

Gordon had kept up some very interesting c