Too apt are we to forget the need of patience and to lose sight of the
promise of a sure reward to those who are not weary in well-doing.
For two generations in the Turkish Empire, during the latter
half of the nineteenth century and the early years of the
twentieth, the world at large took little notice of the obscure
party known as the Young Turks, seeing that its representatives
for a long period consisted mainly of exiles whose lot seemed
to be hopeless. But one day it was reported to the amazement of
the whole world that six hundred young officers of the Turkish
army had gone up to the mountains at Monastir, and had startled
the Sultan by sending a telegram to Constantinople demanding
the convocation of the Parliament which he had supprest long
before. Rigid orders were immediately sent from the capital to
shoot them to the very last man. Now these officers formed the
flower and hope of the country. They were brave, cultured, and
patriotic, and the rest of the army well-knew their quality.
The regiment from Anatolia sent to shoot them not only refused
to raise arms against their brethren, but immediately joined
them, and regiment after regiment followed suit. Then came the
revolution and the reward of those who had waited so long.
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