Chapter 8 No.8

Whence is this devotion to St. John

Chrysostom, which leads me to dwell upon the thought of

him, and makes me kindle at his name, when so{10}

many other great Saints, as the year brings round

their festivals, command indeed my veneration,

but exert no personal claim upon my heart?

Many holy men have died in exile, many holy

men have been successful preachers; and what{15}

more can we write upon St. Chrysostom's

monument than this, that he was eloquent and that he

suffered persecution? He is not an Athanasius,

expounding a sacred dogma with a luminousness

which is almost an inspiration; nor is he{20}

Athanasius, again, in his romantic life-long adventures,

in his sublime solitariness, in his ascendancy over

all classes of men, in his series of triumphs over

material force and civil tyranny. Nor, except

by the contrast, does he remind us of that{25}

Ambrose who kept his ground obstinately in an

imperial city, and fortified himself against the

heresy of a court by the living rampart of a

devoted population. Nor is he Gregory or Basil,

rich in the literature and philosophy of Greece,

and embellishing the Church with the spoils of

heathenism. Again, he is not an Augustine,

devoting long years to one masterpiece of thought,{5}

and laying, in successive controversies, the

foundations of theology. Nor is he a Jerome, so dead to

the world that he can imitate the point and wit

of its writers without danger to himself or

scandal to his brethren. He has not trampled upon{10}

heresy, nor smitten emperors, nor beautified the

house or the service of God, nor knit together the

portions of Christendom, nor founded a religious

order, nor built up the framework of doctrine, nor

expounded the science of the Saints; yet I love{15}

him, as I love David or St. Paul.

How am I to account for it? It has not

happened to me, as it might happen to many a man,

that I have devoted time and toil to the study of

his writings or of his history, and cry up that{20}

upon which I have made an outlay, or love what

has become familiar to me. Cases may occur

when our admiration for an author is only

admiration of our own comments on him, and when

our love of an old acquaintance is only our love{25}

of old times. For me, I have not written the

life of Chrysostom, nor translated his works, nor

studied Scripture in his exposition, nor forged

weapons of controversy out of his sayings or his

doings. Nor is his eloquence of a kind to carry{30}

any one away who has ever so little knowledge

of the oratory of Greece and Rome. It is not

force of words, nor cogency of argument, nor

harmony of composition, nor depth or richness of

thought, which constitute his power,-whence,

then, has he this influence, so mysterious, yet so{5}

strong?

I consider St. Chrysostom's charm to lie in his

intimate sympathy and compassionateness for

the whole world, not only in its strength, but in

its weakness; in the lively regard with which he{10}

views everything that comes before him, taken

in the concrete, whether as made after its own

kind or as gifted with a nature higher than its

own. Not that any religious man-above all,

not that any Saint-could possibly contrive to{15}

abstract the love of the work from the love of

its Maker, or could feel a tenderness for earth

which did not spring from devotion to heaven;

or as if he would not love everything just in that

degree in which the Creator loves it, and{20}

according to the measure of gifts which the Creator

has bestowed upon it, and pre?minently for the

Creator's sake. But this is the characteristic

of all Saints; and I am speaking, not of what St.

Chrysostom had in common with others, but what{25}

he had special to himself; and this specialty, I

conceive, is the interest which he takes in all

things, not so far as God has made them alike,

but as He has made them different from each

other. I speak of the discriminating{30}

affectionateness with which he accepts every one for what is

personal in him and unlike others. I speak of his

versatile recognition of men, one by one, for the

sake of that portion of good, be it more or less,

of a lower order or a higher, which has severally

been lodged in them; his eager contemplation of{5}

the many things they do, effect, or produce, of

all their great works, as nations or as states;

nay, even as they are corrupted or disguised by

evil, so far as that evil may in imagination be

disjoined from their proper nature, or may be{10}

regarded as a mere material disorder apart from

its formal character of guilt. I speak of the

kindly spirit and the genial temper with which

he looks round at all things which this

wonderful world contains; of the graphic fidelity with{15}

which he notes them down upon the tablets of

his mind, and of the promptitude and propriety

with which he calls them up as arguments or

illustrations in the course of his teaching as the

occasion requires. Possessed though he be by{20}

the fire of Divine charity, he has not lost one

fiber, he does not miss one vibration, of the

complicated whole of human sentiment and affection;

like the miraculous bush in the desert, which, for

all the flame that wrapt it round, was not thereby{25}

consumed.

Such, in a transcendent perfection, was the

gaze, as we may reverently suppose, with which

the loving Father of all surveyed in eternity that

universe even in its minutest details which He{30}

had decreed to create such the loving pity with

which He spoke the word when the due moment

came, and began to mold the finite, as He

created it, in His infinite hands; such the watchful

solicitude with which he now keeps His

catalogue of the innumerable birds of heaven, and{5}

counts day by day the very hairs of our head and

the alternations of our breathing. Such, much

more, is the awful contemplation with which He

encompasses incessantly every one of those souls

on whom He heaps His mercies here, in order{10}

to make them the intimate associates of His own

eternity hereafter. And we too, in our measure,

are bound to imitate Him in our exact and vivid

apprehension of Himself and of His works. As to

Himself, we love Him, not simply in His nature,{15}

but in His triple personality, lest we become mere

pantheists. And so, again, we choose our patron

Saints, not for what they have in common with

each other (else there could be no room for choice

at all), but for what is peculiar to them severally.{20}

That which is my warrant, therefore, for particular

devotions at all, becomes itself my reason for

devotion to St. John Chrysostom. In him I

recognize a special pattern of that very gift of

discrimination. He may indeed be said in some sense to{25}

have a devotion of his own for every one who

comes across him,-for persons, ranks, classes,

callings, societies, considered as Divine works and

the subjects of his good offices or good will, and

therefore I have a devotion for him.{30}

It is this observant benevolence which gives to

his exposition of Scripture its chief characteristic.

He is known in ecclesiastical literature as the

expounder, above all others, of its literal sense.

Now in mystical comments the direct object which

the writer sets before him is the Divine Author{5}

Himself of the written Word. Such a writer

sees in Scripture, not so much the works of God,

as His nature and attributes; the Teacher more

than the definite teaching, or its human

instruments, with their drifts and motives, their courses{10}

of thought, their circumstances and personal

peculiarities. He loses the creature in the glory

which surrounds the Creator. The problem

before him is not what the inspired writer directly

meant, and why, but, out of the myriad of{15}

meanings present to the Infinite Being who inspired him,

which it is that is most illustrative of that Great

Being's all-holy attributes and solemn dispositions.

Thus, in the Psalter, he will drop David and Israel

and the Temple together, and will recognize {20}

nothing there but the shadows of those greater truths

which remain forever. Accordingly, the

mystical comment will be of an objective character;

whereas a writer who delights to ponder human

nature and human affairs, to analyze the{25}

workings of the mind, and to contemplate what is

subjective to it, is naturally drawn to investigate

the sense of the sacred writer himself, who was the

organ of the revelation, that is, he will investigate

the literal sense. Now, in the instance of St. {30}

Chrysostom, it so happens that literal exposition

is the historical characteristic of the school in

which he was brought up; so that if he commented

on Scripture at all, he anyhow would have

adopted that method; still, there have been

many literal expositors, but only one{5}

Chrysostom. It is St. Chrysostom who is the charm of

the method, not the method that is the charm

of St. Chrysostom.

That charm lies, as I have said, in his habit and

his power of throwing himself into the minds{10}

of others, of imagining with exactness and with

sympathy circumstances or scenes which were

not before him, and of bringing out what he has

apprehended in words as direct and vivid as the

apprehension. His page is like the table of a{15}

camera lucida, which represents to us the living

action and interaction of all that goes on around

us. That loving scrutiny, with which he follows

the Apostles as they reveal themselves to us in

their writings, he practices in various ways{20}

towards all men, living and dead, high and low,

those whom he admires and those whom he weeps

over. He writes as one who was ever looking

out with sharp but kind eyes upon the world of

men and their history; and hence he has always{25}

something to produce about them, new or old,

to the purpose of his argument, whether from

books or from the experience of life. Head and

heart were full to overflowing with a stream of

mingled "wine and milk," of rich vigorous thought{30}

and affectionate feeling. This is why his manner

of writing is so rare and special; and why, when

once a student enters into it, he will ever

recognize him, wherever he meets with extracts from

him.

Letters of Chrysostom, written in Exile

"To Olympias

"Why do you bewail me? Why beat your breast,{5}

and abandon yourself to the tyranny of despondency?

Why are you grieved because you have failed in

effecting my removal from Cucusus? Yet, as far as your own

part is concerned, you have effected it, since you have

left nothing undone in attempting it. Nor have you any{10}

reason to grieve for your ill success; perhaps it has seemed

good to God to make my race course longer that my

crown may be brighter. You ought to leap and dance and

crown yourself for this, viz., that I should be accounted

worthy of so great a matter, which far exceeds my merit.{15}

Does my present loneliness distress you? On the

contrary, what can be more pleasant than my sojourn here?

I have quiet, calm, much leisure, excellent health. To

be sure, there is no market in the city, nor anything

on sale; but this does not affect me; for all things, as if{20}

from some fountains, flow in upon me. Here is my lord,

the Bishop of the place, and my lord Dioscorus, making

it their sole business to make me comfortable. That

excellent person Patricius will tell you in what good

spirits and lightness of mind, and amid what kind{25}

attentions, I am passing my time."-Ep. 14.

The same is his report to his friends at C?esarea,

and the same are his expressions of gratitude

and affection towards them. The following is

addressed to the President of Cappodocia:{30}

"To Carterius

"Cucusus is a place desolate in the extreme; however,

it does not annoy me so much by its desolateness as it

relieves me by its quiet and its leisure. Accordingly, I

have found a sort of harbor in this desolateness; and

have set me down to recover breath after the miseries{5}

of the journey, and have availed myself of the quiet to

dispose of what remained both of my illness and of the

other troubles which I have undergone. I say this to

your illustriousness, knowing well the joy you feel in

this rest of mine. I can never forget what you did for{10}

me in C?sarea, in quelling those furious and senseless

tumults, and striving to the utmost, as far as your powers

extended, to place me in security. I give this out

publicly wherever I go, feeling the liveliest gratitude to you,

my most worshipful lord, for so great solicitude towards{15}

me."-Ep. 236.

"To Diogenes

"Cucusus is indeed a desolate spot, and moreover

unsafe to dwell in, from the continual danger to which

it is exposed of brigands. You, however, though away,

have turned it for me into a paradise. For, when I{20}

hear of your abundant zeal and charity in my behalf,

so genuine and warm (it does not at all escape me, far

removed as I am from you), I possess a great treasure

and untold wealth in such affection, and feel myself

to be dwelling in the safest of cities, by reason of the{25}

great gladness which bears me up, and the high

consolation which I enjoy."-Ep. 144.

Diogenes was one of the friends who sent him

supplies: he writes in answer:

"You know very well yourself that I have ever been{30}

one of your most warmly attached admirers; therefore

I beg you will not be hurt at my having returned your

presents. I have pressed out of them and have quaffed

the honor which they did me; and if I return the things

themselves, it has been from no slight or distrust of you,

but because I was in no need of them. I have done the

same in the case of many others; for many others too,

with a generosity like yours, ardent friends of mine, have{5}

made me the same offers; and the same apology has set

me right with them which I now ask you to receive. If

I am in want, I will ask these things of you with much

freedom, as if they were my own property, nay with

more, as the event will show. Receive them back, then,{10}

and keep them carefully; so that, if there is a call for

them some time hence, I may reckon on them."-Ep. 50.

As a fellow to the above, I add one of his

letters:

"To Carteria

"What are you saying? that your unintermitting{15}

ailments have hindered you from visiting me? but you

have come, you are present with me. From your very

intention I have gained all this, nor have you any need

to excuse yourself in this matter. That warm and true

charity of yours, so vigorous, so constant, suffices to{20}

make me very happy. What I have ever declared in

my letters, I now declare again, that, wherever I may be,

though I be transported to a still more desolate place

than this, you and your matters I never shall forget.

Such pledges of your warm and true charity have you{25}

stored up for me, pledges which length of time can never

obliterate nor waste; but, whether I am near you or far

away, ever do I cherish that same charity, being

assured of the loyalty and sincerity of your affection for

me, which has been my comfort hitherto."-Ep. 227.{30}

"To Olympias

"It is not a light effort," he says (Ep. 2), "but

it demands an energetic soul and a great mind to

bear separation from one whom we love in the

charity of Christ. Every one knows this who

knows what it is to love sincerely, who knows

the power of supernatural love. Take the blessed

Paul: here was a man who had stripped himself{5}

of the flesh, and who went about the world

almost with a disembodied soul, who had

exterminated from his heart every wild impulse, and

who imitated the passionless sereneness of the

immaterial intelligences, and who stood on high{10}

with the Cherubim, and shared with them in their

mystical music, and bore prisons, chains,

transportations, scourges, stoning, shipwreck, and every

form of suffering; yet he, when separated from

one soul loved by him in Christian charity, was{15}

so confounded and distracted as all at once to

rush out of that city, in which he did not find the

beloved one whom he expected. 'When I was

come to Troas,' he says, 'for the gospel of Christ,

and a door was opened to me in the Lord, I had{20}

no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titus

my brother; but bidding them farewell, I went

into Macedonia.'

"Is it Paul who says this?" he continues;

"Paul who, even when fastened in the stocks,{25}

when confined in a dungeon, when torn with

the bloody scourge, did nevertheless convert and

baptize and offer sacrifice, and was chary even

of one soul which was seeking salvation? and

now, when he has arrived at Troas, and sees the{30}

field cleansed of weeds, and ready for the sowing,

and the floor full, and ready to his hand,

suddenly he flings away the profit, though he came

thither expressly for it. 'So it was,' he answers

me, 'just so; I was possessed by a predominating

tyranny of sorrow, for Titus was away; and this{5}

so wrought upon me as to compel me to this

course.' Those who have the grace of charity

are not content to be united in soul only, they

seek for the personal presence of him they love.

"Turn once more to this scholar of charity, and{10}

you will find that so it is. 'We, brethren,' he

says, 'being bereaved of you for the time of an

hour, in sight, not in heart, have hastened the

more abundantly to see your face with great

desire. For we would have come unto you, I,{15}

Paul, indeed, once and again, but Satan hath

hindered us. For which cause, forbearing no

longer, we thought it good to remain at Athens

alone, and we sent Timothy.' What force is

there in each expression! That flame of charity{20}

living in his soul is manifested with singular

luminousness. He does not say so much as

'separated from you,' nor 'torn,' nor 'divided,'

nor 'abandoned,' but only 'bereaved'; moreover

not 'for a certain period,' but merely 'for the{25}

time of an hour'; and separated, 'not in heart,

but in presence only'; again, 'have hastened

the more abundantly to see your face.' What!

it seems charity so captivated you that you

desiderated their sight, you longed to gaze upon{30}

their earthly, fleshly countenance? 'Indeed I

did,' he answers: 'I am not ashamed to say so;

for in that seeing all the channels of the senses

meet together. I desire to see your presence;

for there is the tongue which utters sounds and

announces the secret feelings; there is the{5}

hearing which receives words, and there the eyes

which image the movements of the soul.' But

this is not all: not content with writing to them

letters, he actually sends to them Timothy, who

was with him, and who was more than any letters.{10}

And, 'We thought it good to remain alone;'

that is, when he is divided from one brother,

he says, he is left alone, though he had so many

others with him."

* * *

II THE TURK

The Tartar and the Turk

You may think, Gentlemen, I have been very

long in coming to the Turks, and indeed I have

been longer than I could have wished; but I

have thought it necessary, in order to your taking

a just view of them, that you should survey them{5}

first of all in their original condition. When they

first appear in history they are Huns or Tartars,

and nothing else; they are indeed in no

unimportant respects Tartars even now; but, had they

never been made something more than Tartars,{10}

they never would have had much to do with the

history of the world. In that case, they would

have had only the fortunes of Attila and Zingis;

they might have swept over the face of the earth,

and scourged the human race, powerful to destroy,{15}

helpless to construct, and in consequence

ephemeral; but this would have been all. But this has

not been all, as regards the Turks; for, in spite

of their intimate resemblance or relationship to

the Tartar tribes, in spite of their essential{20}

barbarism to this day, still they, or at least great

portions of the race, have been put under

education; they have been submitted to a slow

course of change, with a long history and a profitable

discipline and fortunes of a peculiar kind;

and thus they have gained those qualities of

mind, which alone enable a nation to wield and

to consolidate imperial power.

I have said that, when first they distinctly{5}

appear on the scene of history, they are

indistinguishable from Tartars. Mount Altai, the

high metropolis of Tartary, is surrounded by a

hilly district, rich not only in the useful, but in

the precious metals. Gold is said to abound{10}

there; but it is still more fertile in veins of iron,

which indeed is said to be the most plentiful in

the world. There have been iron works there

from time immemorial, and at the time that the

Huns descended on the Roman Empire (in the{15}

fifth century of the Christian era), we find

the Turks nothing more than a family of slaves,

employed as workers of the ore and as blacksmiths

by the dominant tribe. Suddenly in the course

of fifty years, soon after the fall of the Hunnish{20}

power in Europe, with the sudden development

peculiar to Tartars, we find these Turks spread

from East to West, and lords of a territory so

extensive, that they were connected, by relations

of peace or war, at once with the Chinese, the{25}

Persians, and the Romans. They had reached

Kamtchatka on the North, the Caspian on the

West, and perhaps even the mouth of the Indus

on the South. Here then we have an

intermediate empire of Tartars, placed between the{30}

eras of Attila and Zingis; but in this sketch it has

no place, except as belonging to Turkish history,

because it was contained within the limits of

Asia, and, though it lasted for 200 years, it only

faintly affected the political transactions of

Europe. However, it was not without some sort{5}

of influence on Christendom, for the Romans

interchanged embassies with its sovereign in the

reign of the then Greek Emperor Justin the

younger (A.D. 570), with the view of engaging

him in a warlike alliance against Persia. The{10}

account of one of these embassies remains, and

the picture it presents of the Turks is important,

because it seems clearly to identify them with

the Tartar race.

For instance, in the mission to the Tartars{15}

from the Pope, which I have already spoken of,

the friars were led between two fires, when they

approached the Khan, and they at first refused

to follow, thinking they might be countenancing

some magical rite. Now we find it recorded of{20}

this Roman embassy, that, on its arrival, it was

purified by the Turks with fire and incense. As

to incense, which seems out of place among such

barbarians, it is remarkable that it is used in

the ceremonial of the Turkish court to this day.{25}

At least Sir Charles Fellows, in his work on the

Antiquities of Asia Minor, in 1838, speaks of the

Sultan as going to the festival of Bairam with

incense-bearers before him. Again, when the

Romans were presented to the great Khan, they{30}

found him in his tent, seated on a throne, to which

wheels were attached and horses attachable, in

other words, a Tartar wagon. Moreover, they

were entertained at a banquet which lasted the

greater part of the day; and an intoxicating

liquor, not wine, which was sweet and pleasant,{5}

was freely presented to them; evidently the

Tartar koumiss.[32] The next day they had a

second entertainment in a still more splendid

tent; the hangings were of embroidered silk, and

the throne, the cups, and the vases were of gold.{10}

On the third day, the pavilion, in which they were

received, was supported on gilt columns; a couch

of massive gold was raised on four gold peacocks;

and before the entrance to the tent was what

might be called a sideboard, only that it was a{15}

sort of barricade of wagons, laden with dishes,

basins, and statues of solid silver. All these

points in the description-the silk hangings, the

gold vessels, the successively increasing splendor

of the entertainments-remind us of the courts{20}

of Zingis and Timour, 700 and 900 years

afterwards.

[32] Univ. Hist. Modern, vol. iii. p. 346.

This empire, then, of the Turks was of a Tartar

character; yet it was the first step of their

passing from barbarism to that degree of civilization{25}

which is their historical badge. And it was their

first step in civilization, not so much by what

it did in its day, as (unless it be a paradox to

say so) by its coming to an end. Indeed it so

happens, that those Turkish tribes which have{30}

changed their original character and have a place

in the history of the world, have obtained their

status and their qualifications for it, by a process

very different from that which took place in the

nations most familiar to us. What this process{5}

has been I will say presently; first, however, let

us observe that, fortunately for our purpose, we

have still specimens existing of those other

Turkish tribes, which were never submitted to

this process of education and change, and, in{10}

looking at them as they now exist, we see at this

very day the Turkish nationality in something

very like its original form, and are able to decide

for ourselves on its close approximation to the

Tartar. You may recollect I pointed out to{15}

you, Gentlemen, in the opening of these lectures,

the course which the pastoral tribes, or nomads

as they are often called, must necessarily take

in their emigrations. They were forced along

in one direction till they emerged from their{20}

mountain valleys, and descended their high

plateau at the end of Tartary, and then they had

the opportunity of turning south. If they did

not avail themselves of this opening, but went on

still westward, their next southern pass would{25}

be the defiles of the Caucasus and Circassia, to

the west of the Caspian. If they did not use this,

they would skirt the top of the Black Sea, and

so reach Europe. Thus in the emigration of the

Huns from China, you may recollect a tribe of{30}

them turned to the South as soon as they could,

and settled themselves between the high Tartar

land and the sea of Aral, while the main body

went on to the furthest West by the north of the

Black Sea. Now with this last passage into

Europe we are not here concerned, for the Turks{5}

have never introduced themselves to Europe by

means of it;[33] but with those two southward

passages which are Asiatic, viz., that to the east

of the Aral, and that to the west of the Caspian.

The Turkish tribes have all descended upon the{10}

civilized world by one or other of these two roads;

and I observe, that those which have descended

along the east of the Aral have changed their

social habits and gained political power, while

those which descended to the west of the Caspian{15}

remain pretty much what they ever were. The

former of these go among us by the general

name of Turks; the latter are the Turcomans

or Turkmans.... At the very date at which

Heraclius called the Turcomans into Georgia, at{20}

the very date when their Eastern brethren

crossed the northern border of Sogdiana, an event

of most momentous import had occurred in the

South. A new religion had arisen in Arabia.

The impostor Mahomet, announcing himself the{25}

Prophet of God, was writing the pages of that

book, and molding the faith of that people, which

was to subdue half the known world. The Turks

passed the Jaxartes southward in A.D. 626; just

four years before Mahomet had assumed the royal

dignity, and just six years after, on his death,

his followers began the conquest of the Persian

Empire. In the course of 20 years they effected

it; Sogdiana was at its very extremity, or its{5}

borderland; there the last king of Persia took

refuge from the south, while the Turks were

pouring into it from the north. There was little to

choose for the unfortunate prince between the

Turk and the Saracen; the Turks were his{10}

hereditary foe; they had been the giants and

monsters of the popular poetry; but he threw

himself into their arms. They engaged in his

service, betrayed him, murdered him, and

measured themselves with the Saracens in his stead.{15}

Thus the military strength of the north and south

of Asia, the Saracenic and the Turkish, came into

memorable conflict in the regions of which I have

said so much. The struggle was a fierce one, and

lasted many years; the Turks striving to force{20}

their way down to the ocean, the Saracens to

drive them back into their Scythian deserts.

They first fought this issue in Bactriana or

Khorasan; the Turks got the worst of the fight,

and then it was thrown back upon Sogdiana{25}

itself, and there it ended again in favor of the

Saracens. At the end of 90 years from the time

of the first Turkish descent on this fair region,

they relinquished it to their Mahometan

opponents. The conquerors found it rich, populous,{30}

and powerful; its cities, Carisme, Bokhara, and

Samarcand, were surrounded beyond their

fortifications by a suburb of fields and gardens, which

was in turn protected by exterior works; its plains

were well cultivated, and its commerce extended

from China to Europe. Its riches were{5}

proportionally great; the Saracens were able to extort

a tribute of two million gold pieces from the

inhabitants; we read, moreover, of the crown

jewels of one of the Turkish princesses; and of

the buskin of another, which she dropt in her{10}

flight from Bokhara, as being worth two

thousand pieces of gold.[34] Such had been the prosperity

of the barbarian invaders, such was its end; but

not their end, for adversity did them service, as

well as prosperity, as we shall see.{15}

[33] I am here assuming that the Magyars are not of the Turkish stock; vid. Gibbon and Pritchard.

[34] Gibbon.

It is usual for historians to say, that the

triumph of the South threw the Turks back again

upon their northern solitudes; and this might

easily be the case with some of the many hordes,

which were ever passing the boundary and{20}

flocking down; but it is no just account of the

historical fact, viewed as a whole. Not often indeed

do the Oriental nations present us with an

example of versatility of character; the Turks, for

instance, of this day are substantially what they{25}

were four centuries ago. We cannot conceive,

were Turkey overrun by the Russians at the

present moment, that the fanatical tribes, which

are pouring into Constantinople from Asia Minor,

would submit to the foreign yoke, take service{30}

under their conquerors, become soldiers,

custom-officers, police, men of business, attaches,

statesmen, working their way up from the ranks and

from the masses into influence and power; but,

whether from skill in the Saracens, or from {5}

far-reaching sagacity in the Turks (and it is difficult

to assign it to either cause), so it was, that a

process of this nature followed close upon the

Mahometan conquest of Sogdiana. It is to be

traced in detail to a variety of accidents. Many{10}

of the Turks probably were made slaves, and the

service to which they were subjected was no

matter of choice. Numbers had got attached to

the soil; and inheriting the blood of Persians,

White Huns, or aboriginal inhabitants for three{15}

generations, had simply unlearned the wildness

of the Tartar shepherd. Others fell victims to

the religion of their conquerors, which ultimately,

as we know, exercised a most remarkable

influence upon them. Not all at once, but as{20}

tribe descended after tribe, and generation

followed generation, they succumbed to the creed

of Mahomet; and they embraced it with the

ardor and enthusiasm which Franks and Saxons

so gloriously and meritoriously manifested in their{25}

conversion to Christianity.

Here again was a very powerful instrument

in modification of their national character. Let

me illustrate it in one particular. If there is one

peculiarity above another, proper to the savage{30}

and to the Tartar, it is that of excitability and

impetuosity on ordinary occasions; the Turks,

on the other hand, are nationally remarkable for

gravity and almost apathy of demeanor. Now

there are evidently elements in the Mahometan

creed, which would tend to change them from{5}

the one temperament to the other. Its

sternness, its coldness, its doctrine of fatalism; even

the truths which it borrowed from Revelation,

when separated from the truths it rejected, its

monotheism untempered by mediation, its severe{10}

view of the Divine attributes, of the law, and of a

sure retribution to come, wrought both a gloom

and also an improvement in the barbarian, not

very unlike the effect which some forms of

Protestantism produce among ourselves. But{15}

whatever was the mode of operation, certainly

it is to their religion that this peculiarity of the

Turks is ascribed by competent judges.

Lieutenant Wood in his journal gives us a lively

account of a peculiarity of theirs, which he{20}

unhesitatingly attributes to Islamism. "Nowhere,"

he says, "is the difference between European and

Mahometan society more strongly marked than

in the lower walks of life.... A Kasid, or

messenger, for example, will come into a public{25}

department, deliver his letters in full durbar, and

demean himself throughout the interview with

so much composure and self-possession, that an

European can hardly believe that his grade in

society is so low. After he has delivered his{30}

letters, he takes his seat among the crowd, and

answers, calmly and without hesitation, all the

questions which may be addressed to him, or

communicates the verbal instructions with which

he has been intrusted by his employer, and

which are often of more importance than the{5}

letters themselves. Indeed, all the inferior classes

possess an innate self-respect, and a natural

gravity of deportment, which differs as far from

the suppleness of a Hindustani as from the

awkward rusticity of an English clown." ... "Even{10}

children," he continues, "in Mahometan countries

have an unusual degree of gravity in their

deportment. The boy, who can but lisp his 'Peace be

with you,' has imbibed this portion of the national

character. In passing through a village, these{15}

little men will place their hands upon their

breasts, and give the usual greeting. Frequently

have I seen the children of chiefs approach their

father's durbar, and stopping short at the

threshold of the door, utter the shout of 'Salam{20}

Ali-Kum,' so as to draw all eyes upon them; but

nothing daunted, they marched boldly into the

room, and sliding down upon their knees, folded

their arms and took their seat upon the musnad

with all the gravity of grown-up persons." {25}

As Islamism has changed the demeanor of the

Turks, so doubtless it has in other ways materially

innovated on their Tartar nature. It has given

an aim to their military efforts, a political

principle, and a social bond. It has laid them under{30}

a sense of responsibility, has molded them into

consistency, and taught them a course of policy

and perseverance in it. But to treat this part

of the subject adequately to its importance would

require, Gentlemen, a research and a fullness of

discussion unsuitable to the historical sketch{5}

which I have undertaken. I have said enough

for my purpose upon this topic; and indeed

on the general question of the modification of

national character to which the Turks were at

this period subjected.{10}

The Turk and the Saracen

Mere occupation of a rich country is not

enough for civilization, as I have granted already.

The Turks came into the pleasant plains and

valleys of Sogdiana; the Turcomans into the

well-wooded mountains and sunny slopes of Asia{15}

Minor. The Turcomans were brought out of

their dreary deserts, yet they retained their old

habits, and they remain barbarians to this day.

But why? it must be borne in mind, they neither

subjugated the inhabitants of their new country{20}

on the one hand, nor were subjugated by them

on the other. They never had direct or intimate

relations with it; they were brought into it by

the Roman Government at Constantinople as its

auxiliaries, but they never naturalized themselves{25}

there. They were like gypsies in England, except

that they were mounted freebooters instead of

pilferers and fortune tellers. It was far otherwise

with their brethren in Sogdiana; they were

there first as conquerors, then as conquered.

First they held it in possession as their prize for

90 or 100 years; they came into the usufruct and

enjoyment of it. Next, their political ascendancy{5}

over it involved, as in the case of the White Huns,

some sort of moral surrender of themselves to it.

What was the first consequence of this? that,

like the White Huns, they intermarried with the

races they found there. We know the custom{10}

of the Tartars and Turks; under such

circumstances they would avail themselves of their

national practice of polygamy to its full extent

of license. In the course of twenty years a new

generation would arise of a mixed race; and{15}

these in turn would marry into the native

population, and at the end of ninety or a hundred

years we should find the great-grandsons or the

great-great-grandsons of the wild marauders who

first crossed the Jaxartes, so different from their{20}

ancestors in features both of mind and body,

that they hardly would be recognized as deserving

the Tartar name. At the end of that period their

power came to an end, the Saracens became

masters of them and of their country, but the{25}

process of emigration southward from the

Scythian desert, which had never intermitted during

the years of their domination, continued still,

though that domination was no more.

Here it is necessary to have a clear idea of the{30}

nature of that association of the Turkish tribes

from the Volga to the Eastern Sea, to which I

have given the name of Empire: it was not so

much of a political as of a national character;

it was the power, not of a system, but of a race.

They were not one well-organized state, but a{5}

number of independent tribes, acting generally

together, acknowledging one leader or not,

according to circumstances, combining and

co?perating from the identity of object which acted

on them, and often jealous of each other and{10}

quarreling with each other on account of that

very identity. Each tribe made its way down to

the south as it could; one blocked up the way of

the other for a time; there were stoppages and

collisions, but there was a continual movement{15}

and progress. Down they came one after another,

like wolves after their prey; and as the tribes

which came first became partially civilized, and

as a mixed generation arose, these would naturally

be desirous of keeping back their less polished{20}

uncles or cousins, if they could; and would do so

successfully for a while: but cupidity is stronger

than conservatism; and so, in spite of delay and

difficulty, down they would keep coming, and

down they did come, even after and in spite of{25}

the overthrow of their Empire; crowding down

as to a new world, to get what they could, as

adventurers, ready to turn to the right or the

left, prepared to struggle on anyhow, willing to

be forced forward into countries farther still,{30}

careless what might turn up, so that they did but

get down. And this was the process which went

on (whatever were their fortunes when they

actually got down, prosperous or adverse) for

400, nay, I will say for 700 years. The

storehouse of the north was never exhausted; it{5}

sustained the never ending run upon its resources.

I was just now referring to a change in the

Turks, which I have mentioned before, and

which had as important a bearing as any other

of their changes upon their subsequent fortunes.{10}

It was a change in their physiognomy and shape,

so striking as to recommend them to their

masters for the purposes of war or of display.

Instead of bearing any longer the hideous exterior

which in the Huns frightened the Romans and{15}

Goths, they were remarkable, even as early as the

ninth century, when they had been among the

natives of Sogdiana only two hundred years,

for the beauty of their persons. An important

political event was the result: hence the{20}

introduction of the Turks into the heart of the

Saracenic empire. By this time the Caliphs had

removed from Damascus to Bagdad; Persia was

the imperial province, and into Persia they were

introduced for the reason I have mentioned,{25}

sometimes as slaves, sometimes as captives taken

in war, sometimes as mercenaries for the

Saracenic armies: at length they were enrolled as

guards to the Caliph, and even appointed to

offices in the palace, to the command of the forces,{30}

and to governorships in the provinces. The son

of the celebrated Harun al Raschid had as many

as 50,000 of these troops in Bagdad itself. And

thus slowly and silently they made their way to

the south, not with the pomp and pretense of

conquest, but by means of that ordinary{5}

inter-communion which connected one portion of the

empire of the Caliphs with another. In this

manner they were introduced even into Egypt.

This was their history for a hundred and fifty

years, and what do we suppose would be the{10}

result of this importation of barbarians into the

heart of a nourishing empire? Would they be

absorbed as slaves or settlers in the mass of the

population, or would they, like mercenaries

elsewhere, be fatal to the power that introduced{15}

them? The answer is not difficult, considering

that their very introduction argued a want of

energy and resource in the rulers whom they

served. To employ them was a confession of

weakness; the Saracenic power indeed was not{20}

very aged, but the Turkish was much younger,

and more vigorous; then too must be

considered the difference of national character

between the Turks and the Saracens. A writer of

the beginning of the present century[35] compares{25}

the Turks to the Romans; such parallels are

generally fanciful and fallacious; but, if we must

accept it in the present instance, we may

complete the picture by likening the Saracens and

Persians to the Greeks, and we know what was{30}

the result of the collision between Greece and

Rome. The Persians were poets, the Saracens

were philosophers. The mathematics, astronomy,

and botany were especial subjects of the studies of

the latter. Their observatories were celebrated,{5}

and they may be considered to have originated

the science of chemistry. The Turks, on the

other hand, though they are said to have a

literature, and though certain of their princes have

been patrons of letters, have never distinguished{10}

themselves in exercises of pure intellect; but

they have had an energy of character, a

pertinacity, a perseverance, and a political talent, in

a word, they then had the qualities of mind

necessary for ruling, in far greater measure, than{15}

the people they were serving. The Saracens,

like the Greeks, carried their arms over the

surface of the earth with an unrivaled brilliancy

and an uncheckered success; but their dominion,

like that of Greece, did not last for more than{20}

200 or 300 years. Rome grew slowly through

many centuries, and its influence lasts to this

day; the Turkish race battled with difficulties

and reverses, and made its way on amid tumult

and complication, for a good 1000 years from{25}

first to last, till at length it found itself in

possession of Constantinople, and a terror to the

whole of Europe. It has ended its career upon

the throne of Constantine; it began it as the

slave and hireling of the rulers of a great empire,{30}

of Persia and Sogdiana.

[35] Thornton.

As to Sogdiana, we have already reviewed one

season of power and then in turn of reverse which

there befell the Turks; and next a more

remarkable outbreak and its reaction mark their presence

in Persia. I have spoken of the formidable force,{5}

consisting of Turks, which formed the guard of

the Caliphs immediately after the time of Harun

al Raschid: suddenly they rebelled against

their master, burst into his apartment at the

hour of supper, murdered him, and cut his body{10}

into seven pieces. They got possession of the

symbols of imperial power, the garment and the

staff of Mahomet, and proceeded to make and

unmake Caliphs at their pleasure. In the course

of four years they had elevated, deposed, and{15}

murdered as many as three. At their wanton

caprice, they made these successors of the false

prophet the sport of their insults and their blows.

They dragged them by the feet, stripped them,

and exposed them to the burning sun, beat them{20}

with iron clubs, and left them for days without

food. At length, however, the people of Bagdad

were roused in defense of the Caliphate, and the

Turks for a time were brought under; but they

remained in the country, or rather, by the {25}

short-sighted policy of the moment, were dispersed

throughout it, and thus became in the sequel

ready-made elements of revolution for the

purposes of other traitors of their own race, who, at

a later period, as we shall presently see, descended{30}

on Persia from Turkistan.

Indeed, events were opening the way slowly,

but surely, to their ascendancy. Throughout the

whole of the tenth century, which followed, they

seem to disappear from history; but a silent

revolution was all along in progress, leading them{5}

forward to their great destiny. The empire of

the Caliphate was already dying in its

extremities, and Sogdiana was one of the first countries

to be detached from his power. The Turks were

still there, and, as in Persia, filled the ranks of the{10}

army and the offices of the government; but the

political changes which took place were not at

first to their visible advantage. What first

occurred was the revolt of the Caliph's viceroy,

who made himself a great kingdom or empire out{15}

of the provinces around, extending it from the

Jaxartes, which was the northern boundary of

Sogdiana, almost to the Indian Ocean, and

from the confines of Georgia to the mountains

of Afghanistan. The dynasty thus established{20}

lasted for four generations and for the space of

ninety years. Then the successor happened to

be a boy; and one of his servants, the governor

of Khorasan, an able and experienced man, was

forced by circumstances to rebellion against him.{25}

He was successful, and the whole power of this

great kingdom fell into his hands; now he was a

Tartar or Turk; and thus at length the Turks

suddenly appear in history, the acknowledged

masters of a southern dominion.{30}

This is the origin of the celebrated Turkish

dynasty of the Gaznevides, so called after Gazneh,

or Ghizni, or Ghuznee, the principal city, and it

lasted for two hundred years. We are not

particularly concerned in it, because it has no direct

relations with Europe; but it falls into our{5}

subject, as having been instrumental to the advance

of the Turks towards the West. Its most

distinguished monarch was Mahmood, and he

conquered Hindostan, which became eventually

the seat of the empire. In Mahmood the{10}

Gaznevide we have a prince of true Oriental splendor.

For him the title of Sultan or Soldan was invented,

which henceforth became the special badge of the

Turkish monarchs; as Khan is the title of the

sovereign of the Tartars, and Caliph of the{15}

sovereign of the Saracens. I have already described

generally the extent of his dominions: he

inherited Sogdiana, Carisme, Khorasan, and Cabul;

but, being a zealous Mussulman, he obtained the

title of Gazi, or champion, by his reduction of{20}

Hindostan, and his destruction of its idol

temples. There was no need, however, of religious

enthusiasm to stimulate him to the war: the

riches, which he amassed in the course of it, were

a recompense amply sufficient. His Indian{25}

expeditions in all amounted to twelve, and they abound

in battles and sieges of a truly Oriental cast....

We have now arrived at what may literally be

called the turning point of Turkish history. We

have seen them gradually descend from the north,{30}

and in a certain degree become acclimated in the

countries where they settled. They first appear

across the Jaxartes in the beginning of the seventh

century; they have now come to the beginning

of the eleventh. Four centuries or thereabout

have they been out of their deserts, gaining{5}

experience and educating themselves in such

measure as was necessary for playing their part in

the civilized world. First they came down into

Sogdiana and Khorasan, and the country below

it, as conquerors; they continued in it as{10}

subjects and slaves. They offered their services to

the race which had subdued them; they made

their way by means of their new masters down to

the west and the south; they laid the foundations

for their future supremacy in Persia, and{15}

gradually rose upwards through the social fabric to

which they had been admitted, till they found

themselves at length at the head of it. The

sovereign power which they had acquired in the

line of the Gaznevides, drifted off to Hindostan;{20}

but still fresh tribes of their race poured down

from the north, and filled up the gap; and while

one dynasty of Turks was established in the

peninsula, a second dynasty arose in the former

seat of their power.{25}

Now I call the era at which I have arrived the

turning point of their fortunes, because, when

they had descended down to Khorasan and the

countries below it, they might have turned to the

East or to the West, as they chose. They were{30}

at liberty to turn their forces eastward against

their kindred in Hindostan, whom they had driven

out of Ghizni and Afghanistan, or to face towards

the west, and make their way thither through the

Saracens of Persia and its neighboring countries.

It was an era which determined the history of the{5}

world....

But this era was a turning point in their

history in another and more serious respect. In

Sogdiana and Khorasan, they had become

converts to the Mahometan faith. You will not{10}

suppose I am going to praise a religious imposture,

but no Catholic need deny that it is, considered

in itself, a great improvement upon Paganism.

Paganism has no rule of right and wrong, no

supreme and immutable judge, no intelligible{15}

revelation, no fixed dogma whatever; on the

other hand, the being of one God, the fact of His

revelation, His faithfulness to His promises, the

eternity of the moral law, the certainty of future

retribution, were borrowed by Mahomet from the{20}

Church, and are steadfastly held by his followers.

The false prophet taught much which is materially

true and objectively important, whatever be its

subjective and formal value and influence in the

individuals who profess it. He stands in his{25}

creed between the religion of God and the religion

of devils, between Christianity and idolatry,

between the West and the extreme East. And

so stood the Turks, on adopting his faith, at

the date I am speaking of; they stood between{30}

Christ in the West, and Satan in the East, and

they had to make their choice; and, alas! they

were led by the circumstances of the time to

oppose themselves, not to Paganism, but to

Christianity. A happier lot indeed had befallen

poor Sultan Mahmood than befell his kindred{5}

who followed in his wake. Mahmood, a

Mahometan, went eastward and found a superstition

worse than his own, and fought against it, and

smote it; and the sandal doors which he tore

away from the idol temple and hung up at his{10}

tomb at Gazneh, almost seemed to plead for him

through centuries as the soldier and the

instrument of Heaven. The tribes which followed him,

Moslem also, faced westward, and found, not

error but truth, and fought against it as zealously,{15}

and in doing so, were simply tools of the Evil One,

and preachers of a lie, and enemies, not witnesses

of God. The one destroyed idol temples, the

other Christian shrines. The one has been saved

the woe of persecuting the Bride of the Lamb;{20}

the other is of all races the veriest brood of the

serpent which the Church has encountered since

she was set up. For 800 years did the sandal

gates remain at Mahmood's tomb, as a trophy

over idolatry; and for 800 years have Seljuk{25}

and Othman been our foe.

The year 1048 of our era is fixed by

chronologists as the date of the rise of the Turkish power,

as far as Christendom is interested in its history.[36]

Sixty-three years before this date, a Turk of high{30}

rank, of the name of Seljuk, had quarreled with

his native prince in Turkistan, crossed the

Jaxartes with his followers, and planted himself in

the territory of Sogdiana. His father had been

a chief officer in the prince's court, and was the{5}

first of his family to embrace Islamism; but

Seljuk, in spite of his creed, did not obtain permission

to advance into Sogdiana from the Saracenic

government, which at that time was in possession of

the country. After several successful encounters,{10}

however, he gained admission into the city of

Bokhara, and there he settled. As time went on, he

fully recompensed the tardy hospitality which

the Saracens had shown him; for his feud with

his own countrymen, whom he had left, took the{15}

shape of a religious enmity, and he fought against

them as pagans and infidels, with a zeal, which

was both an earnest of the devotion of his people

to the faith of Mahomet, and a training for the

exercise of it....{20}

[36] Baronius, Pagi.

For four centuries the Turks are little or hardly

heard of; then suddenly in the course of as many

tens of years, and under three Sultans, they make

the whole world resound with their deeds; and,

while they have pushed to the East through{25}

Hindostan, in the West they have hurried down

to the coasts of the Mediterranean and the

Archipelago, have taken Jerusalem, and threatened

Constantinople. In their long period of silence

they had been sowing the seeds of future{30}

conquests; in their short period of action they were

gathering the fruit of past labors and sufferings.

The Saracenic empire stood apparently as before;

but, as soon as a Turk showed himself at the head

of a military force within its territory, he found

himself surrounded by the armies of his kindred{5}

which had been so long in its pay; he was joined

by the tribes of Turcomans, to whom the Romans

in a former age had shown the passes of the

Caucasus; and he could rely on the reserve of

innumerable swarms, ever issuing out of his{10}

native desert, and following in his track. Such

was the state of Western Asia in the middle of

the eleventh century.

Alp Arslan, the second Sultan of the line of

Seljuk, is said to signify in Turkish "the{15}

courageous lion": and the Caliph gave its possessor the

Arabic appellation of Azzaddin, or "Protector of

Religion." It was the distinctive work of his

short reign to pass from humbling the Caliph to

attacking the Greek Emperor. Togrul had{20}

already invaded the Greek provinces of Asia Minor,

from Cilicia to Armenia, along a line of 600 miles,

and here it was that he had achieved his

tremendous massacres of Christians. Alp Arslan

renewed the war; he penetrated to C?esarea in{25}

Cappadocia, attracted by the gold and pearls

which incrusted the shrine of the great St. Basil.

He then turned his arms against Armenia and

Georgia, and conquered the hardy mountaineers

of the Caucasus, who at present give such trouble{30}

to the Russians. After this he encountered,

defeated, and captured the Greek Emperor. He

began the battle with all the solemnity and

pageantry of a hero of romance. Casting away

his bow and arrows, he called for an iron mace and

scimeter; he perfumed his body with musk, as{5}

if for his burial, and dressed himself in white,

that he might be slain in his winding sheet.

After his victory, the captive Emperor of New

Rome was brought before him in a peasant's

dress; he made him kiss the ground beneath his{10}

feet, and put his foot upon his neck. Then,

raising him up, he struck or patted him three times

with his hand, and gave him his life and, on a

large ransom, his liberty.

At this time the Sultan was only forty-four{15}

years of age, and seemed to have a career of glory

still before him. Twelve hundred nobles stood

before his throne; two hundred thousand soldiers

marched under his banner. As if dissatisfied

with the South, he turned his arms against his{20}

own paternal wildernesses, with which his

family, as I have related, had a feud. New tribes

of Turks seem to have poured down, and were

wresting Sogdiana from the race of Seljuk, as

the Seljukians had wrested it from the{25}

Gaznevides. Alp had not advanced far into the

country, when he met his death from the hand of a

captive. A Carismian chief had withstood his

progress, and, being taken, was condemned to a

lingering execution. On hearing the sentence, he{30}

rushed forward upon Alp Arslan; and the Sultan,

disdaining to let his generals interfere, bent his

bow, but, missing his aim, received the dagger of

his prisoner in his breast. His death, which

followed, brings before us that grave dignity of the

Turkish character, of which we have already had{5}

an example in Mahmood. Finding his end

approaching, he has left on record a sort of dying

confession: "In my youth," he said, "I was

advised by a sage to humble myself before God,

to distrust my own strength, and never to despise{10}

the most contemptible foe. I have neglected

these lessons, and my neglect has been deservedly

punished. Yesterday, as from an eminence, I

beheld the numbers, the discipline, and the spirit

of my armies; the earth seemed to tremble under{15}

my feet, and I said in my heart, Surely thou art

the king of the world, the greatest and most

invincible of warriors. These armies are no

longer mine; and, in the confidence of my

personal strength, I now fall by the hand of an{20}

assassin." On his tomb was engraven an

inscription, conceived in a similar spirit. "O ye, who

have seen the glory of Alp Arslan exalted to the

heavens, repair to Maru, and you will behold it

buried in the dust." [37] Alp Arslan was adorned{25}

with great natural qualities both of intellect and

of soul. He was brave and liberal: just, patient,

and sincere: constant in his prayers, diligent in

his alms, and, it is added, witty in his

conversation; but his gifts availed him not.{30}

[37] Gibbon.

It often happens in the history of states and

races, in which there is found first a rise and then

a decline, that the greatest glories take place just

then when the reverse is beginning or begun.

Thus, for instance, in the history of the{5}

Ottoman Turks, to which I have not yet come,

Soliman the Magnificent is at once the last and

greatest of a series of great Sultans. So was it

as regards this house of Seljuk. Malek Shah, the

son of Alp Arslan, the third sovereign, in whom{10}

its glories ended, is represented to us in history

in colors so bright and perfect, that it is difficult

to believe we are not reading the account of some

mythical personage. He came to the throne at

the early age of seventeen; he was well-shaped,{15}

handsome, polished both in manners and in

mind; wise and courageous, pious and sincere.

He engaged himself even more in the

consolidation of his empire than in its extension. He

reformed abuses; he reduced the taxes; he{20}

repaired the highroads, bridges, and canals; he

built an imperial mosque at Bagdad; he founded

and nobly endowed a college. He patronized

learning and poetry, and he reformed the

calendar. He provided marts for commerce; he{25}

upheld the pure administration of justice, and

protected the helpless and the innocent. He

established wells and cisterns in great numbers

along the road of pilgrimage to Mecca; he fed

the pilgrims, and distributed immense sums{30}

among the poor.

He was in every respect a great prince; he

extended his conquests across Sogdiana to the

very borders of China. He subdued by his

lieutenants Syria and the Holy Land, and took

Jerusalem. He is said to have traveled round{5}

his vast dominions twelve times. So potent was

he, that he actually gave away kingdoms, and

had for feudatories great princes. He gave to

his cousin his territories in Asia Minor, and

planted him over against Constantinople, as an{10}

earnest of future conquests; and he may be said

to have finally allotted to the Turcomans the

fair regions of Western Asia, over which they

roam to this day.

All human greatness has its term; the more{15}

brilliant was this great Sultan's rise, the more

sudden was his extinction; and the earlier he

came to his power, the earlier did he lose it. He

had reigned twenty years, and was but

thirty-seven years old, when he was lifted up with pride{20}

and came to his end. He disgraced and

abandoned to an assassin his faithful vizir, at the age

of ninety-three, who for thirty years had been the

servant and benefactor of the house of Seljuk.

After obtaining from the Caliph the peculiar{25}

and almost incommunicable title of "the

commander of the faithful," unsatisfied still, he

wished to fix his own throne in Bagdad, and to

deprive his impotent superior of his few

remaining honors. He demanded the hand of the{30}

daughter of the Greek Emperor, a Christian, in

marriage. A few days, and he was no more;

he had gone out hunting, and returned

indisposed; a vein was opened, and the blood would

not flow. A burning fever took him off, only

eighteen days after the murder of his vizir, and{5}

less than ten before the day when the Caliph was

to have been removed from Bagdad.

Such is human greatness at the best, even were

it ever so innocent; but as to this poor Sultan,

there is another aspect even of his glorious deeds.{10}

If I have seemed here or elsewhere in these

Lectures to speak of him or his with interest or

admiration, only take me, Gentlemen, as giving

the external view of the Turkish history, and that

as introductory to the determination of its true{15}

significance. Historians and poets may celebrate

the exploits of Malek; but what were they in the

sight of Him who has said that whoso shall strike

against His cornerstone shall be broken; but

on whomsoever it shall fall, shall be ground to{20}

powder? Looking at this Sultan's deeds as

mere exhibitions of human power, they were

brilliant and marvelous; but there was another

judgment of them formed in the West, and other

feelings than admiration roused by them in the{25}

faith and the chivalry of Christendom.

Especially was there one, the divinely appointed

shepherd of the poor of Christ, the anxious

steward of His Church, who from his high and

ancient watch tower, in the fullness of apostolic{30}

charity, surveyed narrowly what was going on at

thousands of miles from him, and with prophetic

eye looked into the future age; and scarcely had

that enemy, who was in the event so heavily to

smite the Christian world, shown himself, when

he gave warning of the danger, and prepared{5}

himself with measures for averting it. Scarcely

had the Turk touched the shores of the

Mediterranean and the Archipelago, when the Pope

detected and denounced him before all Europe.

The heroic Pontiff, St. Gregory the Seventh, was{10}

then upon the throne of the Apostle; and though

he was engaged in one of the severest conflicts

which Pope has ever sustained, not only against

the secular power, but against bad bishops and

priests, yet at a time when his very life was not{15}

his own, and present responsibilities so urged

him, that one would fancy he had time for no

other thought, Gregory was able to turn his mind

to the consideration of a contingent danger in the

almost fabulous East. In a letter written during{20}

the reign of Malek Shah, he suggested the idea

of a crusade against the misbeliever, which later

popes carried out. He assures the Emperor of

Germany, whom he was addressing, that he had

50,000 troops ready for the holy war, whom he{25}

would fain have led in person. This was in the

year 1074.

In truth, the most melancholy accounts were

brought to Europe of the state of things in the

Holy Land. A rude Turcoman ruled in{30}

Jerusalem; his people insulted there the clergy of

every profession; they dragged the patriarch by

the hair along the pavement, and cast him into

a dungeon, in hopes of a ransom; and disturbed

from time to time the Latin Mass and office in the

Church of the Resurrection. As to the pilgrims,{5}

Asia Minor, the country through which they had

to travel in an age when the sea was not yet safe

to the voyager, was a scene of foreign incursion

and internal distraction. They arrived at

Jerusalem exhausted by their sufferings, and{10}

sometimes terminated them by death, before they

were permitted to kiss the Holy Sepulchre.

* * *

It is commonly said that the Crusades failed

in their object; that they were nothing else but

a lavish expenditure of men and treasure; and{15}

that the possession of the Holy Places by the

Turks to this day is a proof of it. Now I will not

enter here into a very intricate controversy; this

only will I say, that, if the tribes of the desert,

under the leadership of the house of Seljuk, turned{20}

their faces to the West in the middle of the

eleventh century; if in forty years they had

advanced from Khorasan to Jerusalem and the

neighborhood of Constantinople; and if in

consequence they were threatening Europe and{25}

Christianity; and if, for that reason, it was a

great object to drive them back or break them

to pieces; if it were a worthy object of the

Crusades to rescue Europe from this peril and to

reassure the anxious minds of Christian

multitudes; then were the Crusades no failure in

their issue, for this object was fully accomplished.

The Seljukian Turks were hurled back upon the

East, and then broken up, by the hosts of the{5}

Crusaders. The lieutenant of Malek Shah, who

had been established as Sultan of Roum (as Asia

Minor was called by the Turks), was driven to an

obscure town, where his dynasty lasted, indeed,

but gradually dwindled away. A similar fate {10}

attended the house of Seljuk in other parts of

the Empire, and internal quarrels increased and

perpetuated its weakness. Sudden as was its

rise, as sudden was its fall; till the terrible

Zingis, descending on the Turkish dynasties, like{15}

an avalanche, co?perated effectually with the

Crusaders and finished their work; and if

Jerusalem was not protected from other enemies,

at least Constantinople was saved, and Europe

was placed in security, for three hundred years.{20}

The Past and Present of the Ottomans

I think it is clear, that, if my account be only

in the main correct, the Turkish power certainly

is not a civilized, and is a barbarous power.

The barbarian lives without principle and

without aim; he does but reflect the successive{25}

outward circumstances in which he finds himself,

and he varies with them. He changes

suddenly, when their change is sudden, and is as

unlike what he was just before, as one fortune

or external condition is unlike another. He

moves when he is urged by appetite; else, he

remains in sloth and inactivity. He lives, and

he dies, and he has done nothing, but leaves the{5}

world as he found it. And what the individual

is, such is his whole generation; and as that

generation, such is the generation before and

after. No generation can say what it has been

doing; it has not made the state of things better{10}

or worse; for retrogression there is hardly room;

for progress, no sort of material. Now I shall

show that these characteristics of the barbarian

are rudimental points, as I may call them, in the

picture of the Turks, as drawn by those who{15}

have studied them. I shall principally avail

myself of the information supplied by Mr.

Thornton and M. Volney, men of name and ability,

and for various reasons preferable as authorities

to writers of the present day.{20}

"The Turks," says Mr. Thornton, who, though

not blind to their shortcomings, is certainly

favorable to them, "the Turks are of a grave

and saturnine cast ... patient of hunger and

privations, capable of enduring the hardships of{25}

war, but not much inclined to habits of

industry.... They prefer apathy and indolence to

active enjoyments; but when moved by a

powerful stimulus they sometimes indulge in pleasures

in excess." "The Turk," he says elsewhere,{30}

"stretched at his ease on the banks of the Bosphorus,

glides down the stream of existence

without reflection on the past, and without

anxiety for the future. His life is one continued

and unvaried reverie. To his imagination the

whole universe appears occupied in procuring him{5}

pleasures.... Every custom invites to repose,

and every object inspires an indolent

voluptuousness. Their delight is to recline on soft verdure

under the shade of trees, and to muse without

fixing the attention, lulled by the trickling of a{10}

fountain or the murmuring of a rivulet, and

inhaling through their pipe a gently inebriating

vapor. Such pleasures, the highest which the

rich can enjoy, are equally within the reach of

the artisan or the peasant."{15}

M. Volney corroborates this account of them:

"Their behavior," he says, "is serious, austere,

and melancholy; they rarely laugh, and the

gayety of the French appears to them a fit of

delirium. When they speak, it is with{20}

deliberation, without gestures and without passion;

they listen without interrupting you; they are

silent for whole days together, and they by no

means pique themselves on supporting

conversation. If they walk, it is always leisurely, and{25}

on business. They have no idea of our

troublesome activity, and our walks backwards and

forwards for amusement. Continually seated,

they pass whole days smoking, with their legs

crossed, their pipes in their mouths, and almost{30}

without changing their attitude." Englishmen

present as great a contrast to the Ottoman as the

French; as a late English traveler brings before

us, apropos of seeing some Turks in quarantine:

"Certainly," he says, "Englishmen are the least

able to wait, and the Turks the most so, of any{5}

people I have ever seen. To impede an

Englishman's locomotion on a journey, is equivalent to

stopping the circulation of his blood; to disturb

the repose of a Turk on his, is to reawaken him

to a painful sense of the miseries of life. The{10}

one nation at rest is as much tormented as

Prometheus, chained to his rock, with the vulture

feeding on him; the other in motion is as

uncomfortable as Ixion tied to his ever-moving wheel."[38]

[38] Formby's Visit, p. 70.

However, the barbarian, when roused to action,{15}

is a very different being from the barbarian

at rest. "The Turk," says Mr. Thornton, "is

usually placid, hypochondriac, and

unimpassioned; but, when the customary sedateness of

his temper is ruffled, his passions ... are{20}

furious and uncontrollable. The individual seems

possessed with all the ungovernable fury of a

multitude; and all ties, all attachments, all

natural and moral obligations, are forgotten or

despised, till his rage subsides." A similar{25}

remark is made by a writer of the day: "The Turk

on horseback has no resemblance to the Turk

reclining on his carpet. He there assumes a

vigor, and displays a dexterity, which few

Europeans would be capable of emulating; no{30}

horsemen surpass the Turks; and, with all the

indolence of which they are accused, no people

are more fond of the violent exercise of riding."

So was it with their ancestors, the Tartars;

now dosing on their horses or their wagons, now{5}

galloping over the plains from morning to night.

However, these successive phases of Turkish

character, as reported by travelers, have seemed

to readers as inconsistencies in their reports;

Thornton accepts the inconsistency. "The{10}

national character of the Turks," he says, "is a

composition of contradictory qualities. We find

them brave and pusillanimous; gentle and

ferocious; resolute and inconstant; active and

indolent; fastidiously abstemious, and{15}

indiscriminately indulgent. The great are alternately

haughty and humble, arrogant and cringing,

liberal and sordid." [39] What is this but to say in

one word that we find them barbarians?

[39] Bell's Geography.

According to these distinct moods or phases{20}

of character, they will leave very various

impressions of themselves on the minds of successive

beholders. A traveler finds them in their

ordinary state in repose and serenity; he is surprised

and startled to find them so different from what {25}

he imagined; he admires and extols them, and

inveighs against the prejudice which has

slandered them to the European world. He finds them

mild and patient, tender to the brute creation, as

becomes the, children of a Tartar shepherd, kind{30}

and hospitable, self-possessed and dignified, the

lowest classes sociable with each other, and the

children gamesome. It is true; they are as noble

as the lion of the desert, and as gentle and as

playful as the fireside cat. Our traveler observes{5}

all this;[40] and seems to forget that from the

humblest to the highest of the feline tribe, from

the cat to the lion, the most wanton and

tyrannical cruelty alternates with qualities more

engaging or more elevated. Other barbarous{10}

tribes also have their innocent aspects-from

the Scythians in the classical poets and historians

down to the Lewchoo islanders in the pages of

Basil Hall.

[40] Vid. Sir Charles Fellows' Asia Minor.

But whatever be the natural excellences of{15}

the Turks, progressive they are not. This Sir

Charles Fellows seems to allow: "My intimacy

with the character of the Turks," he says, "which

has led me to think so highly of their moral

excellence, has not given me the same favorable{20}

impression of the development of their mental

powers. Their refinement is of manners and

affections; there is little cultivation or activity

of mind among them." This admission implies

a great deal, and brings us to a fresh{25}

consideration. Observe, they were in the eighth century

of their political existence when Thornton and

Volney lived among them, and these authors

report of them as follows: "Their buildings,"

says Thornton, "are heavy in their proportions,{30}

bad in detail, both in taste and execution,

fantastic in decoration, and destitute of genius.

Their cities are not decorated with public

monuments, whose object is to enliven or to embellish."

Their religion forbids them every sort of {5}

painting, sculpture, or engraving; thus the fine arts

cannot exist among them. They have no music

but vocal; and know of no accompaniment

except a bass of one note like that of the bagpipe.

Their singing is in a great measure recitative,{10}

with little variation of note. They have scarcely

any notion of medicine or surgery; and they do

not allow of anatomy. As to science, the

telescope, the microscope, the electric battery, are

unknown, except as playthings. The compass {15}

is not universally employed in their navy, nor

are its common purposes thoroughly understood.

Navigation, astronomy, geography, chemistry,

are either not known, or practiced only on

antiquated and exploded principles. As to their{20}

civil and criminal codes of law, these are

unalterably fixed in the Koran....

Compare the Rome of Junius Brutus to the

Rome of Constantine, 800 years afterwards. In

each of these polities there was a continuous{25}

progression, and the end was unlike the

beginning; but the Turks, except that they have gained

the faculty of political union, are pretty much

what they were when they crossed the Jaxartes

and Oxus. Again, at the time of Togrul Beg, the{30}

Greek schism also took place; now from Michael

Cerularius, in 1054, to Anthimus, in 1853,

Patriarchs of Constantinople, eight centuries have

passed of religious deadness and insensibility: a

longer time has passed in China of a similar

political inertness: yet China has preserved at{5}

least the civilization, and Greece the ecclesiastical

science, with which they respectively passed into

their long sleep; but the Turks of this day are

still in the less than infancy of art, literature,

philosophy, and general knowledge; and we may{10}

fairly conclude that, if they have not learned

the very alphabet of science in eight hundred

years, they are not likely to set to work on it in

the nine hundredth.

* * *

It is true that in the last quarter of a century{15}

efforts have been made by the government of

Constantinople to innovate on the existing

condition of its people; and it has addressed itself

in the first instance to certain details of daily

Turkish life. We must take it for granted that it{20}

began with such changes as were easiest; if so, its

failure in these small matters suggests how little

ground there is for hope of success in other

advances more important and difficult. Every

one knows that in the details of dress, carriage,{25}

and general manners, the Turks are very

different from Europeans: so different, and so

consistently different, that the contrariety would

seem to arise from some difference of essential

principle. "This dissimilitude," says Mr.

Thornton, "which pervades the whole of their habits,

is so general, even in things of apparent

insignificance, as almost to indicate design rather than

accident...."{5}

To learn from others, you must entertain a

respect for them; no one listens to those whom

he contemns. Christian nations make progress

in secular matters, because they are aware they

have many things to learn, and do not mind from{10}

whom they learn them, so that he be able to teach.

It is true that Christianity, as well as

Mahometanism, which imitated it, has its visible polity,

and its universal rule, and its especial

prerogatives and powers and lessons, for its disciples.{15}

But, with a Divine wisdom, and contrary to its

human copyist, it has carefully guarded (if I

may use the expression) against extending its

revelations to any point which would blunt the

keenness of human research or the activity of{20}

human toil. It has taken those matters for its

field in which the human mind, left to itself,

could not profitably exercise itself, or progress,

if it would; it has confined its revelations to the

province of theology, only indirectly touching{25}

on other departments of knowledge, so far as

theological truth accidentally affects them; and

it has shown an equally remarkable care in

preventing the introduction of the spirit of caste

or race into its constitution or administration.{30}

Pure nationalism it abhors; its authoritative

documents pointedly ignore the distinction of

Jew and Gentile, and warn us that the first often

becomes the last; while its subsequent history

has illustrated this great principle, by its awful,

and absolute, and inscrutable, and irreversible{5}

passage from country to country, as its territory

and its home. Such, then, it has been in the

Divine counsels, and such, too, as realized in fact;

but man has ways of his own, and, even before

its introduction into the world, the inspired{10}

announcements, which preceded it, were distorted

by the people to whom they were given, to

minister to views of a very different kind. The

secularized Jews, relying on the supernatural

favors locally and temporally bestowed on{15}

themselves, fell into the error of supposing that a

conquest of the earth was reserved for some mighty

warrior of their own race, and that, in

compensation of the reverses which befell them, they

were to become an imperial nation.{20}

What a contrast is presented to us by these

different ideas of a universal empire! The

distinctions of race are indelible; a Jew cannot

become a Greek, or a Greek a Jew; birth is an

event of past time; according to the Judaizers,{25}

their nation, as a nation, was ever to be

dominant; and all other nations, as such, were

inferior and subject. What was the necessary

consequence? There is nothing men more pride

themselves on than birth, for this very reason,{30}

that it is irrevocable; it can neither be given to

those who have it not, nor taken away from

those who have. The Almighty can do anything

which admits of doing; He can compensate every

evil; but a Greek poet says that there is one

thing impossible to Him-to undo what is{5}

done. Without throwing the thought into a

shape which borders on the profane, we may see

in it the reason why the idea of national power

was so dear and so dangerous to the Jew. It was

his consciousness of inalienable superiority that{10}

led him to regard Roman and Greek, Syrian and

Egyptian, with ineffable arrogance and scorn.

Christians, too, are accustomed to think of those

who are not Christians as their inferiors; but the

conviction which possesses them, that they have{15}

what others have not, is obviously not open to

the temptation which nationalism presents.

According to their own faith, there is no insuperable

gulf between themselves and the rest of mankind;

there is not a being in the whole world but is{20}

invited by their religion to occupy the same

position as themselves, and, did he come, would

stand on their very level, as if he had ever been

there. Such accessions to their body they

continually receive, and they are bound under{25}

obligation of duty to promote them. They never

can pronounce of any one, now external to them,

that he will not some day be among them; they

never can pronounce of themselves that, though

they are now within, they may not some day{30}

be found outside, the Divine polity. Such are

the sentiments inculcated by Christianity, even

in the contemplation of the very superiority

which it imparts; even there it is a principle, not

of repulsion between man and man, but of good

fellowship; but as to subjects of secular{5}

knowledge, since here it does not arrogate any

superiority at all, it has in fact no tendency whatever

to center its disciple's contemplation on himself,

or to alienate him from his kind. He readily

acknowledges and defers to the superiority in{10}

art or science of those, if so be, who are

unhappily enemies to Christianity. He admits the

principle of progress on all matters of knowledge

and conduct on which the Creator has not decided

the truth already by revealing it; and he is at{15}

all times ready to learn, in those merely secular

matters, from those who can teach him best.

Thus it is that Christianity, even negatively, and

without contemplating its positive influences, is

the religion of civilization.{20}

* * *