_Eulogy of Constantinople_
O moon that dost light the eye of hope, and dost adorn the days of thy
aged father! it availeth thee more to cultivate thy talents than to
break the seal of a treasure. Knowledge and instruction have no surer
asylum than Constantinople, which has not its equal for the flavor of
its intellectual fruit. May God prosper this abode of all greatness,
the home and school of all great men, and the seat of administration for
all people! There merit always finds consideration. Every perfection,
every talent, is there esteemed at its just value. There are all the
degrees of honor and of nobility; everywhere else life is lost and
wasted. There everything has its peaceable course, and merit has not the
injustice of fortune to fear. There are found all places, all dignities,
and all careers. Heaven in vain revolves around the world, it sees
nowhere a city like unto Constantinople. There are seen paintings,
drawings, writings, and gildings, dazzling and gleaming beyond belief.
All possible kinds of arts contribute their own brilliancy and splendor.
See how she gleams with a beauty all her own, as the sea languidly
caresses her!
At Constantinople all arts and all professions are esteemed and honored,
and one finds here talents whose names even are unknown elsewhere. Does
he who is outside the house know what is within? Does he who stands on
the shore see what is hidden by the depth of the sea? There also they
excel in archery and the names of conquerors are immortalized on stone.
Without mention of the rest, how pleasant and charming it is to fly over
the surface of the sea, to reign at the same time over the air and the
waves, like Solomon on his throne, and to recline luxuriously on a
cushion with eyes fixed on a mirror of silver! There are combined at
once music, song, and all pleasures. There, riding on the wings of the
wind, the eyes perceive a great number of cities. Tranquilly resting on
the breeze, one traverses the earth without fatigue. There are
marvellously reflected the most gorgeous spectacles, which seem to
mirror one another and give an enchanted aspect to the shores. The
_quaîqs_ glide lightly over the water, with their wind-filled sails like
a bird’s wings. How can so beautiful a sight be described? what need has
it of eulogy?
Behold Saint Sophia, marvel of the world, whose cupola might be termed
the eighth celestial body. Nowhere has she her equal, save, perhaps in
paradise. Contemplate the imperial seat of the sultans of the world, the
dwelling of the kings of time, the court of the Ottoman Empire, and the
centre of the rule of the khans. In this ever-blessed region is found
all that is desirable. Whatever thou canst imagine, she possesses in
the highest degree. She combines the elect of the beys, of the pachas,
and the efendis, the most illustrious warriors and the most renowned
wise men.
All the world’s difficulties there find their solutions: all efforts are
there crowned with success. The mind cannot conceive all the charms she
contains. If she were not afflicted with all kinds of disease and the
abominable plague, who would consent to leave this celestial abode
whence care is forever exiled? If her temperature were more equal, would
she not cause the rest of the world to be forgotten? Whoever has an
established fortune should not establish his home in any other country.
No city, no country, resembles or is comparable to her. She is the
asylum of all sciences: everywhere else study is neglected for gain,
commerce, agriculture, or usury, so that all vestiges of knowledge have
disappeared. Money takes the place of talent in a province, and it seems
as if merit could be extracted from it. In the provinces scientific men
have become extinct and books are forgotten. Poetry and prose are both
held in aversion, and even a Persian phrase is tabooed. The study of
Arabic has vanished as snow without consistency, and the principles of
grammar and syntax are entirely neglected. Luxury and presumption have
intoxicated all hearts, and there is no worship but that of dignities
and employments. There one finds neither virtue nor knowledge, and
morality is outraged.
The ambition to secure vain honors leaves no time for the labor for
perfection. How many do not lift up their voices unto the Lord except
when their fortunes are threatened by reverses! It is by a special
dispensation of Providence that God has withdrawn learning from the
provinces. If he had not first chained them in ignorance, who could have
governed such men? The seat of power belongs to the great, but pride is
the part of provincials. He who is high placed is not vainglorious; but
these wretches are filled with arrogance. They constantly compare their
dignity and importance to that of the representatives of authority.
But what would it be if they possessed learning? They would not deign to
look at their fellows. They know not their value, and take no account of
their worth.
Nothing teaches the inferiority of the provinces more than the sight of
Constantinople. In the gatherings of the capital he who passes
elsewhere for a wisest man of the century is but a blockhead; the
strong-minded loses his assurance, and the fine talker has no longer a
tongue. They who boasted so loudly of their rank and nobility are only
admitted to the most commonplace circles. The arrogant, who knit his
brows so disdainfully, eagerly seeks the door-keepers. He who bore a
title so pompously cannot even obtain the honor of kissing the hem of a
robe. He who occupied the first place is not even deemed worthy to
remain at the door. What city can be compared to Constantinople? Is not
the prince above him whose homages he receives? After the capital, there
is no place so charming as Halep. Halep! honor of the province,
illustrious and flourishing city; the resort of Indians, Europeans, and
Chinese; object of the envy of the whole universe; the market of all
merchandise; haven of joys and wealth, with thy delicious waters and
climate, thy vast plains and magnificent buildings.