appears conclusively. He offered objections to his uncle, when the latter wished him to be his aid on the march to Egypt. He admitted as much to Beha ed-din years after. Would not this in itself suggest that the lotos life of Damascus had enticements which a carefree young man was not anxious to abandon? Even after the first Egyptian campaign, in which he showed marked talent and achieved noteworthy success, he was still reluctant to abandon Damascus, and it took quite emphatic persuasion on the part of Nur ed-din — apparently his father as well as uncle had failed to move him — to influence him to join the second mission to Egypt. Of course, real resistance to the Sultan was out of the question. It is natural in delving into the careers of the great to seek the exact moment when irresponsible youth was fired suddenly with eagerness to don the robe of maturity. That time actually arrived for Saladin in the course of this campaign — or rather, at the end of it. It came suddenly and unexpectedly, but the hitherto aimless youth did not hesitate. It meant the end of his leisurely past and of whatever had made Damascus so attractive. The urge of youth could no longer be allowed to interfere with the stern realities of a strenuous purpose. Fate opened the doors of opportunity, revealing a great career. Its dazzling possibilities proved irresistible. Never was that vision to leave him. It was to be lode-star for the balance of his life.