The deep attachment of the Arab to his native wilds is well expressed in the celebrated song of Maysunah, the beautiful wife of the Caliph Muawijah. The pomp and splendour of an Imperial court could neither reconcile her to the luxuries of the harem nor make her forget the homely charms of her fatherland. Her solitary hours were consumed in melancholy musings, and her greatest delight was in singing the simple pleasures she had enjoyed in the desert. The following translation gives of course but a faint idea of the beauties of the original song, the recital of which fills the Bedouin with delight: ‘Oh take these purple robes away, Give back my cloak of camel’s hair, And bear me from this towering pile To where the Black Tents flap i’ the air. The camel’s colt with faltering tread, The dog that bays at all but me, Delight me more than ambling mules, Than every art of minstrelsy.’ Tradition reports that Muawijah overhearing the song, and perhaps tired of the singer, sent her back to her beloved wilds; but we are not told whether in the desert she did not after all sometimes regret the magnificence of Damascus. Among the best traits of the Bedouins’ character, we must cite their gentleness and generosity. Usually they are a mixture of worldly cunning and great simplicity; fond of a jest, yet solemn and dignified; easily managed by a laugh and a soft word, and pliable after passion, though madly revengeful after injury. Though reckless when their passions are thoroughly roused, their valour is tempered by cautiousness. Their wars are a succession of skirmishes, in which 500 men will retreat after losing a dozen of their number. In this partisan fighting the first charge secures a victory, and the vanquished fly till covered by the shades of night. Then passion or shame prompts them to reprisals, which will probably end in the flight of the former victor. Gain and revenge draw the Arab’s sword; yet, unlike the Irishman who fights for the mere fun of fighting, he must have the all-powerful stimulants of honour and fanaticism to become desperate. The habit of danger in raids and blood feuds, the continual uncertainty of existence, the desert, the chase, his hard life, and the practice of martial exercises, habituate him to look death in the face like a man, and powerful motives will make him a hero. The ferocity of Bedouin life is softened by his intercourse with the ‘dwellers in houses made of clay,’ who frequently visit and entrust their children to the people of the Black Tents, that they may be hardened by the discipline of the desert. This laudable custom is generally followed by the Sherifs or the descendants of the Prophet residing in Meccah, and even the late Pacha of Egypt gave one of his sons in charge of the Anijah tribe near Akhba, that he might receive a Bedouin education and grow up into a man.