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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"


They have a strange effect upon me, and I begin to Ossianise. I get
large ideas and great aspirations. It is at such times that my mind
always turns to the East, that swarming ant-heap of the human race,
where alone it is possible to be very great. I renew my dreams of '98.
I think of the possibility of drilling and arming these vast masses of
men, and of precipitating them upon Europe. Had I conquered Syria I
should have done this, and the fate of the world was really decided at
the siege of Acre. With Egypt at my feet I already pictured myself
approaching India, mounted upon an elephant, and holding in my hand a
new version of the Koran which I had myself composed. I have been born
too late. To be accepted as a world's conqueror one must claim to be
divine. Alexander declared himself to be the son of Jupiter, and no one
questioned it. But the world has grown old, and has lost its
enthusiasms. What would happen if I were to make the same claim?
Monsieur de Talleyrand would smile behind his hand, and the Parisians
would write little lampoons upon the walls.


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