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A
JOURNEY TO INDIA, &c.
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LETTER XXVII.
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MY DEAR FREDERICK,
So long as the route of my journey lay through European regions,
little presented itself respecting human nature of such very great
novelty as to excite admiration or awaken curiosity. In all the various
Nations through which we have passed, a certain parity of sentiment,
arising from the one great substratum, Christianity, gave the same
general colouring to all the scenes, however they might differ from each
other in their various shadings. Whatever dissimilitude the influence of
accident, climate, or local circumstance, may, in the revolutions of
ages, have introduced into their manners, customs, municipal laws, and
exterior forms of worship—the great Code of Religion and Moral Sentiment
remains nearly the same with all: and right and wrong, good and evil,
being defined by the same principles of reason, and ascertained by the
same boundaries, bring the rule of conduct of each to so close an
approximation with that of the others, that, when compared with those we
are now to attend to, they may really be considered as one and the same
people.
In the Empire now before us, were we to leave our judgment to the
guidance of general opinion of Christian Nations, we should have, on the
contrary, to contemplate Man under a variety of forms and modifications,
so entirely different from those to which habit has familiarised our
minds, as at first to impress us with the idea of a total disruption
from our nature, and induce us, as it has already the generality of our
people, to divorce them from a participation of all those sympathetic
feelings which serve to inforce the discharge of mutual good offices
among men. Deducing all their principles, not only of moral conduct, but
municipal government, from a religion radically different from, and
essentially adverse to, ours; deluded by that system into a variety of
opinions which liberality itself must think absurd; unaided by that
enlightened philosophy which learning, and learned men, acting under the
influence of comparative Freedom, and assisted by the art of Printing,
have diffused through the mass of Europeans; and living under a climate
the most unfavourable to intellectual or bodily exertion, they exhibit a
spectacle which the philosophic and liberal mind must view with
disapprobation, regret and pity—the illiberal fierce Christian with
unqualified detestation and disgust: while, on their part, bigoted to
their own principles and opinions, they look on us with abhorrence, and
indulge as conscientious a contempt of, and antipathy to Christians,
which I apprehend no lapse of time, without a great change of
circumstance, will be able to eradicate. Should Mahomedanism and
Christianity ever happen to merge in Deism (but not otherwise), the
inhabitants of Syria and Europe will agree to consider each other even
as fellow-creatures. In Spain and Portugal, Jew, Turk, and indeed
Protestant, are without distinction called hogs. In Turkey, Jews and
Christians are indiscriminately called dogs; each thinking the other
completely excluded from the pale of humanity, and well worthy the
dagger of any TRUE BELIEVER who would have the _piety_ to apply it.
You will allow, my dear FREDERICK, that it must have been rather an
important contemplation to your Father, to have perhaps two thousand
miles to travel through the immense and almost trackless wilds of a
country inhabited by such people, without the consolation of any others
to accompany him in his journey; for, unless a public dispatch was to
overtake me, there was little probability of my having a single European
partner of my fatigue and perils.
However, as the period was not yet arrived at which I was to go forward,
or even determine my mode of travelling, I endeavoured to soothe my mind
as much as I could into content, and to take advantage of my stay at
Aleppo, to acquire all the knowledge possible of the place, that is to
say, of that city in particular, and of the Turkish government and
manners in general.
A distant view of Aleppo fills the mind with expectations of great
splendour and magnificence. The mosques, the towers, the large ranges of
houses with flat roofs, rising above each other, according to the
sloping hills on which they stand, the whole variegated with beautiful
rows of trees, form altogether a scene magnificent, gay, and delightful:
but, on entering the town, all those expected beauties vanish, and leave
nothing in the streets to meet the eye, but a dismal succession of high
stone walls, gloomy as the recesses of a convent or state prison, and
unenlivened by windows, embellished, as with us, by the human face
divine. The streets themselves, not wider than some of the meanest
alleys in London, overcast by the height of the prison-houses on either
side, are rendered still more formidably gloomy by the solitude and
silence that pervade them; while here and there a lattice towards the
top, barely visible, strikes the soul with the gloomy idea of thraldom,
coercion and imprisonment.
This detestable mode of building, which owes its origin to jealousy, and
the scandalous restraints every man is empowered by the laws and
religion of the place to impose upon the women consigned either by sale
or birth to his tyranny, extends not to the inside of the houses, many
of which are magnificent and handsome, and all admirably suited to the
exigencies of the climate, and the domestic customs and manner of living
of the inhabitants.
The city is adorned, it is true, here and there, with mosques and
appendant towers, called Minarets, from which cryers call the Faithful
to prayers; and in some of the streets there are arches built at certain
distances from each other, so as to carry the eye directly through them,
and form a vista of considerable grandeur: but all these are far from
sufficient to counterbalance the general aspect of gloominess and
solitude which reigns over the whole, and renders it so peculiarly
disgusting, particularly at first sight, to an Englishman who has
enjoyed the gaiety and contemplated the freedom of a city in Great
Britain.
The mosques (Mahomedan temples) are extremely numerous in this city;
indeed almost as much so as churches and convents in the popish
countries of Christendom. There is nothing in their external appearance
to attract the notice of the traveller, or indulge the eye of the
architect; they are almost all of one form—an oblong quadrangle: and as
to the inside, I never had an opportunity of seeing one; none but
Mussulmen being permitted to enter them, at least at Aleppo.
The next buildings of a public kind to the mosques that deserve to be
particularly mentioned, are the caravanseras—buildings which, whether we
consider the spirit of beneficence and charity that first suggested
them, their national importance, or their extensive utility, may rank,
though not in splendour of appearance, at least in true value, with any
to be found in the world.
Caravanseras were originally intended for, and are now pretty generally
applied to, the accommodation of strangers and travellers, though, like
every other good institution, sometimes perverted to the purposes of
private emolument or public job: they are built at proper distances
through the roads of the Turkish dominions, and afford the indigent or
weary traveller an asylum from the inclemency of the weather; are in
general very large, and built of the most solid and durable materials;
have commonly one story above the ground floor, the lower of which is
arched, and serves for warehouses to stow goods, for lodgings and for
stables, while the upper is used merely for lodgings; besides which,
they are always accommodated with a fountain, and have cooks shops and
other conveniencies to supply the wants of the lodgers. In Aleppo the
Caravanseras are almost exclusively occupied by merchants, to whom they
are, like other houses, rented.
The suburbs of Aleppo, and the surrounding country, are very handsome,
pleasant, and, to a person coming out of the gloomy city, in some
respects interesting. Some tossed about into hill and valley lie under
the hands of the husbandman; others are covered with handsome villas;
and others again laid out in gardens, whither the people of Aleppo
occasionally resort for amusement.
The roofs of all the houses are flat, and formed of a composition which
resists the weather effectually. On those most of the people sleep in
the very hot weather: they are separated from each other by walls; but
the Franks, who live contiguous to one another, and who, from their
disagreeable circumstances with regard to the Turks, are under the
necessity of keeping up a friendly and harmonious intercourse together,
have doors of communication, which are attended with these fortunate and
pleasing advantages, that they can make a large circuit without
descending into the streets, and can visit each other during the plague,
without running the risk of catching the infection by going among the
natives below.
There is a castle in the city which I had nearly forgotten to
mention—The natives conceive it to be a place of great strength. It
could not, however, withstand the shock of a few pieces of ordnance for
a day. It is esteemed a favour to be permitted to see it; and there is
nothing to recompense one for the trouble of obtaining permission,
unless it be the prospect of the surrounding country, which from the
battlements is extensive and beautiful.
Near this castle stands the Seraglio, a large old building, where the
Bashaw of Aleppo resides: the whole of it seemed to me to be kept in
very bad repair, considering the importance of the place. It is
surrounded by a strong wall of great height: besides which, its
contiguity to the castle is very convenient; as, in case of popular
tumults, or intestine commotions, the Bashaw finds an asylum in the
latter, which commands and overawes the city, and is never without a
numerous garrison under the command of an Aga.
Such is the summary account I have been able to collect of Aleppo, the
capital of Syria; which, mean though it is when compared with the
capitals of European countries, is certainly the third city for
splendour, magnificence, and importance, in the vast extent of the
Ottoman Empire—Constantinople and Grand Cairo only excelling it in those
points, and no other bearing any sort of competition with it.
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LETTER XXVIII.
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However faction may agitate, or abuse irritate the minds of men
against the executive branch of their Government, the People of every
Nation under Heaven are disposed to think their own Constitutional
System the best; and the artful intertexture of religion with
Governments confirms them in that opinion, and often consigns the
understanding to unalterable error and illiberal prejudice. It would be
wonderful, then, if the Turkish Constitution, founded on the Koran, was
not looked upon with abhorrence by the bulk of the Christian world; and
more wonderful still, if the outrageous zealots of the Christian Church,
who for so many centuries engrossed all the learning of Europe to
themselves, should not have handed down with exaggerated
misrepresentation every circumstance belonging to the great enemies of
their faith. But that, at this day of intellectual illumination, Mankind
should be enveloped in such error and darkness, with regard to the
government of so large a portion of the globe as Turkey, is
extraordinary; and only to be accounted for by a reference, in the first
place, to those religious prejudices which we suck in from our nurse,
and which habit, incessant document, and every part of our education,
tend to confirm in our minds; and in the next, to that indisposition the
human mind feels to part with its old prejudices, and the general
indolence and incapacity of men to acquire knowledge by the arduous and
fatiguing paths of study.
The Turkish Government is grossly misrepresented. Were our opinions to
be directed by the general belief of Europeans, we should suppose that
the life and property of every being in that vast Empire were
irremediably at the mercy of the Grand Seignior—and that, without laws
to protect, or any intermediate power whatever to shield them, they were
entirely subject to the capricious will of an inexorable tyrant, who,
stimulated by cruelty, sharpened by avarice, and unrestrained by any law
human or divine, did every thing to oppress his subjects, and carry
destruction among Mankind. I firmly believe, that, from the combination
of ideas arising from those prejudices, there are few Christians who
think or hear of the Grand Turk, that do not, by an involuntary act of
the mind, instantly think of blood and murder, strangling with
bowstrings, and slicing off heads with cimeters.
As there is no part of your education more near my heart than the
eradicating illiberal prejudices from your mind, and fortifying you
against their assaults; I find it impossible to refrain from giving you
my opinion of the Turkish Government, which I have been at some pains to
collect, as well from oral information as from the best authors; and
which, though very far from what a generous and universally
philanthropic disposition would wish them to have, is very different
from that which is generally attributed to them, and unquestionably far
more limited in its powers than the Governments of several Christian
countries I could mention.
The Constitution of that country is laid down expressly in the Koran.
The Emperor of Turkey (commonly called the Grand Seignior) is a
descendant of Mahomet, who pretended he had the Koran from Heaven: and
he is as much bound by the institutes of that book as any subject in his
realm—is liable to deposition as they to punishment for breach of them,
and indeed has been more than once deposed, and the next in succession
raised to the Throne. Thus far, it is obvious, his power is limited and
under controul. But that is not all—It is equally certain that the
Turkish Government is partly Republican; for, though the People at large
have no share in the legislation, and are excluded by the Koran from it
(which Koran has established and precisely ascertained their rights,
privileges, and personal security), yet there is an intermediate power
which, when roused to exertion, is stronger than the Emperor’s, and
stands as a bulwark between the extremes of Despotism and them. This
body is THE ULAMA, composed of all the members of the Church and the
Law, superior to any Nobility, jealous of their rights and privileges,
and partly taken from the People, not by election, but by profession and
talents.—In this body are comprised the Moulahs, the hereditary and
perpetual guardians of the religion and laws of the Empire: they derive
their authority as much as the Emperor from the Koran, and, when
necessary, act with all the firmness resulting from a conviction of that
authority; which they often demonstrate by opposing his measures, not
only with impunity, but success. Their persons are sacred; and they can,
by means of the unbounded respect in which they are held, rouse the
People to arms, and proceed to depose. But, what is much more, the
Emperor cannot be deposed without their concurrence.
If, by this provision of the Constitution, the power of the Monarch is
limited, and the personal security of the subject ascertained, on the
one hand; the energy of the Empire in its external operations is, on the
other, very frequently and fatally palsied by it. Declarations of war
have been procrastinated, till an injurious and irrecoverable act of
hostility has been sustained; and peace often protracted, when peace
would have been advantageous. The Ulama being a numerous body, it has
been found always difficult, often impossible, to unite so many
different opinions; and nothing being to be done without their
concurrence, the executive power finds it often impossible to take a
decisive step in a crisis of advantageous opportunity. But as this code
of laws and government is received as a divine revelation, binding both
Prince and People, and supposed to be sealed in Heaven, the breach of it
would be sufficient to consign even the Monarch to deposition and death.
As to the military force, which in the hands of all Despots has been
made the instrument of the People’s slavery, that of the Turk could
avail him nothing; and, whenever it does interfere, acts only to his
overthrow. The very reverence they have for his person arising from
obedience to their religion, they are, _à fortiori_, governed by it, not
him. He holds no communication with them; and the standing force of the
Janissaries is, compared with the mass of the People, only a handful.
Some wild accounts, indeed, have stated it at 300,000; but the best
informed fix it below 60,000, of which a great part consists of false
musters and abuses—great multitudes being enrolled to obtain certain
privileges annexed to the office of Janissary. The fact is, that the
chief force of the Empire is a militia composed of the People; who, with
respect to obedience and subordination, are so loose that they leave
their duty whenever they please, without receiving any punishment. How
far the People of Turkey are protected from the encroachments of power,
will appear from the recital of a fact related by one of the best and
most liberal of our Historians on that subject, and which is of too
great notoriety to be doubted.
In the year 1755, the Porte, as it is called, or Palace of the Grand
Vizir at Constantinople, was burnt down: in laying the plan for
rebuilding it on the former site, the leading consideration was, how to
contrive matters so as to render it secure from accidents of a like
nature in future; and it was determined that the only certain means to
do so was, to leave a space of clear ground all round it, for which
purpose the contiguous houses should be purchased from the proprietors,
and demolished. All the owners of the houses agreed to the sale, except
one old woman, who pertinaciously refused: she said she was born, and
had lived all her life, in that spot, and would not quit it for any one.
Now, in England, for the convenience of a private canal, the Parliament
would force her to sell. But what did they say in Turkey? When all the
people cried out, “Why does not the Sultan use his authority, and take
the house, and pay her the value?” No! answered the Magistrates and the
Ulama, it is impossible! it cannot be done! it is her property. While
the power of the Monarch is thus limited, and the rights of the People
thus ascertained by the Koran, and in things manifest and open to view
rigidly adhered to, justice between man and man is rarely administered;
for, though the laws themselves are good, the corrupt administration of
them disarms their effect, and distorts them from their purpose. The
venality of the Judges is beyond conception flagitious and barefaced;
and their connivances at false witnesses so scandalously habitual, that
testimony is become an article of commerce, and can be procured with a
facility and at a price that at once stamps an opprobrium on the
country, and furnishes matter of wonder to the considerate mind, how, if
Judges are flagitious and shameless enough to be guilty of it, the
People can bear such a pernicious system so long. Hence flow all the
censures on the laws and government of that country—hence most of the
impediments under which its commerce and agriculture languish; while the
actual written laws of the realm are, if duly administered, sufficiently
adequate to the security of property, the regulation of commerce, the
repression of vice, and the punishment and prevention of crimes.
In endeavouring to guard your mind against an illiberal, vulgar
prejudice, I have stated to you what the Turkish Constitution is, and
what the Laws; but you must not carry what I have said to an
overstrained or forced interpretation. I would not have you infer that
the People are well governed; I only say, that their Constitution
contains within it the means of better government than is supposed. I
would not have you infer that property is always secure; I barely say
there are laws written to secure it. This too I wish to impress on you,
that the common people are more free, and that property and life are
better secured, in Turkey, than in some European countries. I will
mention Spain for one. Like the country we are now contemplating, fear
keeps them, as disunited individuals, under passive obedience in
ordinary cases; but, unlike the Spaniards, when notoriously
aggrieved—when their property or religious code is forcibly
violated—when the Prince would riot in blood, and persist in an
unsuccessful war—the Turks appeal to the Law; they find a Chief; the
soldiery join their standard, and depose or destroy him, not on the
furious pretext of popular hatred, but upon the legitimate ground of the
Koran, as an infidel, and a violator of the laws of GOD and Mahomet—They
always, however, place his regular successor on the Throne. Yet,
notwithstanding the general venality which pollutes the fountains of
Justice, and notwithstanding the great abuse of power to which I have
alluded, their internal policy is, in many respects, excellent, and may
be compared with advantage to that of any Nation in Europe.
Highway-robbery, house-breaking, or pilfering, are little known and
rarely practised among them; and at all times the roads are as secure as
the houses. Ample provisions too are made against those petty secret
frauds, which many who carry a fair face in England, and would bring an
action of damages against one that should call them rogues, practise
every day. Bakers are the most frequent victims of justice, and are not
infrequently seen hanging at their own doors. They are mulcted and
bastinadoed for the first and second offence, and on the third, a staple
is driven up in their door-case, and they are hanged from it.
Notwithstanding which, men are constantly found hardy enough to pursue
the same course of practice; and this is the more extraordinary, as the
police is so strictly attended to, that the Bashaw or Vizir himself goes
about in disguise, in order to discover frauds and detect the
connivances of the inferior officers of justice. But what wilt our great
Ladies, who consume their nights, destroy their constitution, and
squander their husbands’ property in gambling; who afterwards, to repair
their shattered finances, have recourse to the infamous expedient of
keeping gaming-houses, and endeavour to recover by degrading means what
they have lost by folly, to the disgrace of themselves and family, and
the shame of their sex and rank—What will they say when I tell them,
that gaming is held among the Turks to be as infamous as theft, and a
gamester looked upon with more detestation than a highway robber? The
Turkish Ambassador and his train will, on their return to their country,
have to tell a curious tale of this much-famed island, in that and other
respects.
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LETTER XXIX.
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Prejudice, that canker of the human heart, has injured mankind by
impeding personal intercourse, and thereby clogging the channel of
intellectual improvement: it forbids that interchange of sentiment—that
reciprocal communication of opinion—that generous circulation of
intellectual wealth, which, while it enriches another, advances
itself—it dissevers the bond of social union, and makes Man sit down the
gloomy, selfish possessor of his own miserable mite, with too much
hatred to give, and too much pride to receive, those benefits, which
Providence, by leaving our nature so unaccommodated, has pointed out as
necessary to pass between man and man: under its influence we spurn from
us the good, if we dislike the hand that offers it, and will rather
plunge into the mire than be guided by the light of any one whose
opinion is at variance with our own.
Thus it is between the Turks and us—the little of their affairs which
the prejudices of the Mahomedans have allowed themselves to communicate,
or suffered others to glean among them, has been in general so misused,
distorted, and misrepresented by the prejudices of the Christians, that
it is not going beyond the truth to say, there exist not a people in the
civilized world whose real history and genuine state are so little known
as those of the Turks: and the worst of it is, that not one
misrepresentation, not one single mistake has fallen on the generous,
charitable side; but all, all without exception tend to represent the
Turk in the most degraded and detestable point of view. As the purity of
the Christian does not allow him to be guilty of a wilful, uncharitable
misrepresentation, we should attribute it to unavoidable error, were it
not that, till some late authors whose liberality does them honour, they
all walked in the very same track, and could hardly have been so
uniformly erroneous from design. We must therefore attribute it to
religious zeal and mistaken piety; in which, in this instance alone,
they seem to be reputable competitors with the Turks. The moroseness,
the animosity, and the supercilious self-possession of the bigot, each
holds in common with the other.
One striking feature in the Constitution of Turkey is, that neither
blood nor splendid birth are of themselves sufficient to recommend a man
to great offices. Merit and abilities alone are the pinions which can
lift ambition to its height. The cottager may be exalted to the highest
office in the Empire; at least there is no absolute impediment in his
way; and I believe it has often happened. Compare this with France under
its late Monarchy, where no merit could raise a man from the Canaille:
this, I say, is one of the criterions of a free Constitution, and Turkey
is so far democratic.
The very first principle ingrafted in the minds of the Mahomedan
children, is a high contempt of all religions but their own; and from
the minute babes are capable of distinguishing, they are taught to call
Christians by the name of Ghiaour, or Infidel: this grows up in their
manhood so strong in them, that they will follow a Christian through the
streets, and even justle against him with contempt, crying, Ghiaour!
Ghiaour! or Infidel! Infidel!—Men of dignity and rank, indeed, will
treat Christians with courtesy; but as soon as they are gone out of
hearing, will call them Dog! This is monstrous! But let us recollect how
a Turk would be treated in Spain or Portugal, and we shall see that
inhuman bigotry may be found in a greater degree among Christians than
even Mahomedans. In Spain or Portugal they would treat them thus:—the
common people would call them Hogs; they would justle them also in
contempt; and what is more, they would stab them (it has often happened)
_por amor de Dios_; and as to the people of rank, they would very
conscientiously consign them to the Inquisition, where the pious Fathers
of the Church would very piously consign them to the flames, and coolly
go to the Altar, and pray to GOD to damn them hereafter to all eternity.
So far the balance, I think, is in favour of the Turks. Need I go
farther?—I will.—
The Mahomedans are divided into two Sects, as the Christians are into
many. Those are the Sect of Ali, and the Sect of Omar. Now, I have never
heard among them of one Sect burning the other deliberately: but the
Roman Catholics, even now, burn Protestants by juridical sentence—burn
their fellow Christians to death for differing from them in a mere
speculative point of doctrine. Which then are the better men? I am sure
it is unnecessary to say: though bad are the best.
The Turks are allowed, by those who know them best, to have some
excellent qualities; and I think, that in the prodigality of our
censure, which, though little acquainted with them, we are forward to
bestow, it would be but fair to give them credit for many of those good
qualities, which even among ourselves it requires the greatest intimacy
and the warmest mutual confidence and esteem to disclose or discover in
each other. That they have many vices is certain. What people are they
that have not? Gaming they detest; wine they use not, or at least use
only a little, and that by stealth; and as to the plurality of women, it
can in them be scarcely deemed a vice, since their religion allows it.
One vice, and one only, of a dark dye is laid to their charge; and that
has been trumpeted forth with the grievous and horrid addition, that
though contradictory to nature, it was allowed by their religion. This I
have reason to believe is one of the many fabrications and artifices of
Christian zealots, to render Mahomedanism more odious: for I have been
informed from the most competent and respectable authority, and am
therefore persuaded, that the detestable crime to which I allude, is
forbidden both by the Koran and their Municipal Laws; that it is openly
condemned by all, as with us; and that, though candour must allow there
are many who practise it (by the bye there are too many in England who
are supposed to do the same), there are none hardy or shameless enough
not to endeavour to conceal it; and, in short, that it is apparently as
much reprobated there as any where; which, at all events, rescues the
Laws and Religion of the Country from that stigma.
Perhaps there is no part of the world where the flame of parental
affection burns with more ardent and unextinguishable strength, or is
more faithfully returned by reciprocal tenderness and filial obedience,
than Turkey. Educated in the most unaffected deference and pious
submission to their parents’ will; trained both by precept and example
to the greatest veneration for the aged, and separated almost from their
infancy from the women, they acquire a modesty to their superiors, and a
bashfulness and respectful deportment to the weaker sex, which never
cease to influence them through life. A Turk meeting a woman in the
street, turns his head from her, as if looking at her were criminal; and
there is nothing they detest so much, or will more sedulously shun, than
an impudent, audacious woman. To get the better of a Turk therefore,
there is nothing further necessary, than to let slip a Virago at him,
and he instantly retreats.
Since the arrival of the Turkish Ambassador in London, I have had
frequent occasion to observe, that the people of his train have been
already, by the good example of our British Belles and Beaux, pretty
much eased of their national modesty, and can look at the women with as
broad and intrepid a stare, as the greatest puppy in the Metropolis.
Their habitual tenderness and deference for the fair sex, while it
speaks much for their manly gallantry, must be allowed by candour to be
carried to an excess extravagant and irrational. It is the greatest
disgrace to the character of a Turk to lift his hand to a woman: this
is, doubtless, right, with some limitations; but they carry it so far as
to allow no provocation, be it what it may, sufficient to justify using
force or strokes to a woman; the utmost they can do is, to scold and
walk off. The consequence of this is, that the women often run into the
most violent excesses. There have been instances where they have been
guilty of the most furious outrages; where they have violated the laws
in a collected body, and broke open public stores of corn laid up by the
Government: the Magistrates attended, the Janissaries were called, and
came running to quell the riot—but, behold they were women who committed
it: they knew no way of resisting them, unless by force; and force they
could not use: so the ladies were permitted quietly to do their work in
defiance of Magistrates, Law, Right, and Reason.
Among the variety of errors and moral absurdities falsely ascribed to
the Mahomedan Religion, the exclusion of Women from Paradise holds a
very conspicuous place, as a charge equally false and absurd; on the
contrary, the Women have their fasts, their ablutions, and the other
religious rites deemed by Mahomedans necessary to salvation.
Notwithstanding, it has been the practice of travellers to have recourse
to invention, where the customs of the country precluded positive
information; and to give their accounts rather from the suggestions of
their own prejudiced imaginations, than from any fair inferences or
conclusions drawn from the facts that came under their observation.
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LETTER XXX.
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The subject I touched upon in my last three letters, and on which this,
and probably some succeeding ones, will turn, is attended with
circumstances of great delicacy, and may possibly bear the aspect of at
least a dubious import, as touching the great point of Religion. I will
therefore, before I proceed further, explain to you (lest it should
require explanation) the whole scope of my meaning.
My object throughout the whole of what I have said respecting the Turks,
is to war with prejudice, not to draw comparisons:—to shew that where
the Mahomedans are vicious or enslaved, it is not the fault of their
Religion or their Laws:—to convince you, the Turks are not the only
people in the world, who, under all the external forms of sanctity and
religion, are capable of the most detestable crimes, and sometimes
utterly bereft of all pretensions to charity—and that, while they have
been held up as a perpetual subject of reproach and accusation, they
were committing only just the same crimes that conscience might have
retorted on their accusers. If allowance can be at all made for
historical misrepresentation, we may perhaps be disposed to consider
that of the ignorant Catholic Missionaries of the early ages, as
entitled to some excuse, or at least mitigation. The intemperate zeal of
those times forbade the full exercise of the rational faculties; but in
this age of illumination and liberality, he that falsifies from
polemical malice should meet little quarter and less belief. And it must
be grievous to all men of virtue and religion to reflect, that
churchmen, disciples of the Christian Church, which should be the
fountain of purity and truth, have been foremost in the list of
falsifiers.
The difficulty of obtaining information of any kind in Turkey, is very
great; of their Religion chiefly they are extremely tenacious; and as to
their Women, it is allowed by the best-informed men, who have lived
there for many years, in departments of life that gave them the best
means of obtaining information Europeans can have, that, at best, but a
very imperfect knowledge can be had of them. Yet travellers who probably
never migrated farther than “from the green bed to the brown,” have
given us diffuse accounts of their religion; and adventurers who never
were beyond the purlieus of Drury, have scaled Seraglio walls, and
carried off the favourites of Sultans.
The truth is, my dear FREDERICK, the Turks, like all other people, have
their share of vices, but are by no means countenanced in them by their
Religion; and from what I have been able to collect, as well from my own
inquiries and observations, as from reading the best Historians, I am
persuaded that they have not, in the whole scope of Mahomedanism, one
doctrine so subversive of virtue, or so encouraging to the indulgence of
vice, as many that are to be found in that curious code, Popery.
The malice of our intemperate zealots against Mahomedanism has been of
course extended to its founder with more than common exaggeration and
additions. They have represented Mahomet to be a man of mean origin,
possessing a mind unenlightened by Science or Literature, and an
understanding and faculties naturally gross. All those suggestions are
undoubtedly false;—he sprung from the most noble of all the Arabian
Tribes—the Coraishites: at his time, poverty, so far from being a
reproach among them, was a mark of every thing that was great and
dignified, if supported with magnanimity and fortitude; and the two
first Caliphs lived as poor as Mahomet himself, although they had
immense revenues, commanded vast armies, and were lords of great
provinces. As to his understanding I can only say, that perhaps he was
the very last man in the world whose intellectual powers should be
called in question. His genius was unbounded, his spirit enterprising,
his powers of address were unequalled, he was allowed to be the greatest
orator of his time; and yet, with all these qualifications, his
understanding was slighted. It is a logical truth, that when people
prove too much, they prove nothing at all: our Christian zealots, in
this instance, have overshot the mark, and thereby rendered all their
other information at least doubtful. Perhaps the consummation of all
policy was Mahomet’s pretending to be an idiot, in order to make his
great and wonderful effusions appear to be the immediate inspiration of
Heaven—He called himself THE IDIOT PROPHET[1].
Footnote 1:
Mohammed.
The whole of Mahomedanism may be reduced simply to this one article of
Faith—“There is but one GOD, and MAHOMET is his Prophet;” but upon this
they have superinduced, from time to time, such a variety of absurdities
as would require volumes to describe: however, in strict candour let us
reflect, and ask our own hearts the question, whether sprinkling with
holy water, or worshiping a bit of white wafer as GOD, can be exceeded,
or are less absurd than the periodical ablutions of the Turks, or their
going on a pilgrimage to Mecca?
With regard to the Women, I have said before that the best information
we can obtain is very imperfect; all I have been able to collect, you
shall have. They are formed in a style of the most exquisite symmetry,
particularly about the chest and bosom; they have delicate skins,
regular features, black hair and eyes, and are, above all other beings,
cleanly and neat in their persons, bathing twice a day regularly,
besides on other occasions, and not suffering even the smallest hair to
remain upon their bodies. They are kept in the most rigorous
confinement, and only persons of ill fame paint. Women of character are
there chaste—nor is their chastity to be attributed to restraint merely,
for, from their infancy they are trained to discretion and
self-subjection, and the modesty natural to the sex is cherished from
its first dawnings. When they grow up, they are not, like our women
here, subjected to the contagion of infamous gallantry; neither are the
men trained to, nor do they pride themselves, like some among us, on the
arts of seduction. In fact, that practice makes no part of the
accomplishments of their fine gentlemen; nay, it is held by them to be
infamous. There are no such characters to be found in Turkey as your
box-lobby loungers—none of your upstart cubs like those who daudle the
best part of the day through Pall-Mall, St. James’s-street, and
Bond-street; who, without birth, wealth, education, or parts, fancy
themselves fine fellows, and powder their noses in Ladies’ head-dresses,
whispering them in order to get the reputation of gallantry; who strut
like Bantam cocks, and assume a fierce air to conceal their conscious
want of spirit; and dressed in a suit of regimentals, bought by Papa, at
Mama’s request, to exhibit sweet Master Jacky to advantage in the
Park—though never to be soiled with gunpowder, or perforated with a ball
in the nasty field of battle!!!—My dear FREDERICK, I have often told you
that you shall make choice of your own profession. If you should choose
any of the learned professions, you may fail in it without dishonour;
for many of the ablest men have failed before: but, mark me! avoid the
military as you would ruin, unless you have the requisites; let not the
glitter of a scarlet coat, or the empty name of a soldier, tempt you to
be like one of those miserable animals I have described. There may be
characters more wicked—I know none so utterly contemptible.
All extremes are bad; but the exceedings of virtue, even where they run
into error, are still preferable to vice. However ludicrous it may
appear, we cannot absolutely despise or condemn the prudery of the
Turkish women, though it runs into such extravagance, that, when feeding
their poultry, they keep carefully veiled if there happens to be a cock
among them, so fastidiously averse are they to the odious male creature
seeing their pretty faces.
When the circumstances under which the Turkish women stand are
considered, it must appear amazing, that chastity, from principle, is
universal among them, as it is confessed to be: the nature of man urges
him to desire, with greatest ardour, that which is most forbidden; and
women who are much confined, may well be supposed to have their passions
inflamed by the exaggerated workings of the imagination. Infidelity,
however, to the marriage-bed, is much less frequent among the men there,
than among the women here; and the tide of fashion, which in this
country gives such a rapid and irresistible circulation to vice and
adultery, runs there in an opposite direction; and contrary to our
customs, no man is so unfashionable in Turkey as he that has interrupted
the domestic peace of a family by seduction.
Among the many virtues which may with strict justice be ascribed to the
Turks, hospitality holds a conspicuous place. It is not confined to
common civility, it extends to personal protection. Many deem it
absolutely their duty to risk their lives in defence of their guests;
nor will any motive, however cogent, be allowed to justify the violation
of it. Nay, to such a system is it carried up, that an engagement with a
stranger is accepted as an excuse for not obeying the summons of a great
man, when no other apology, not even that of indisposition, would be
admitted.
While the Turks abhor and despise all other religions but their own,
their Government is by no means intolerant in spiritual concerns. The
exercise of all religions is free, and at Constantinople (we are told)
Monks dress in their habits, and are allowed at funeral processions to
elevate the Cross, which is more than the English tyranny allowed the
Roman Catholics of Ireland to do, till very lately: a Turk, however,
convicted of apostacy, could not by any means escape death. Meantime it
must be observed, that if they keep up a decent semblance of the forms
of their religion, no intrusive inquiry is made into their real faith:
and though it is one of the injunctions of Mahomet to endeavour to
convert Unbelievers, and they sometimes in obedience to that command
solicit the conversion of Christians and others; they never fail to
consider any renegado, or person who becomes a convert, with contempt,
if not dislike.
I will conclude this letter with an extract from that most valuable and
accurate work, Russel’s History of Aleppo, which will give you a better,
because a true, notion of Turkish morals, than you are likely to receive
from general opinion. “Upon the whole,” says he, “whether it be ascribed
to the influence of their political Constitution, or to the absence of
various temptations, which in Europe often lead to the violation of
better laws; there are perhaps few great cities where many of the
private and domestic virtues are in general more prevalent than at
Aleppo.”
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LETTER XXXI.
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The use of periodical stated times of devotion is universally admitted,
and the necessity of adopting them makes a part of the Christian Code.
The Mahomedan Religion, however, exceeds it far in the rigid attention
to, and frequency of, devotion. There are no less than five stated times
of prayer in every twenty-four hours, fixed as indispensable, at none of
which a true Believer fails; and the fervency of their praying exceeds
even the frequency. I have heard it asserted, that if the house was to
take fire while they are at their devotion, they would not break off;
and so rigidly intent do they conceive it their duty to be during the
time of prayer, that if in the midst of it they were interrupted by a
fit of sneezing or coughing, they consider all already done as gone for
nothing, and always begin them again.—And to tell a truth of them, if
the Christians curse them, they are pretty even with them in return,
never failing to pray for discord, enmity, and dissension among their
enemies, as well as health and prosperity to themselves; and to the
efficacy of those prayers they fondly attribute all the wars and
dissensions which incessantly harass Christendom. A bell tolls as a
public notice of prayer; and when a true Mahomedan hears it, let him be
where he will, whether at home or abroad, in the highway or in the
market, be the place dirty or clean, wet or dry, he immediately falls
down and worships.
As subsidiary to prayer they have their ablutions, in which they are
full as scrupulously punctual as in their prayers. One is preparatory to
prayer, another after cohabitation with women, a third before eating,
and another again incidental. Those they never neglect to perform,
unless some insuperable obstacle lies in the way. Charity, that most
glorious doctrine of any Religion, is enjoined by the Koran under the
most heavy denunciation of heavenly vengeance, in case of neglect; and
by it they are charged to regard no bounds in liberality to the poor.
Many Mussulmen in their zeal to discharge this duty have given a fourth,
many a third, and some one half of their property. Nay, the instances
are not infrequent of men giving away their all, and living afterwards
themselves upon alms. To do strict justice it must be said, that poverty
is no where so respectfully attended to, honoured, or reverenced, as
among the Mahomedans; who have a saying among them, “that the fear of
want is a mark of the judgment of GOD.”
Abstinence is considered as a virtue among them, and very strictly
enjoined as a religious duty. The great Fast appointed by the Koran
continues for the month of Ramedan, during which time they neither eat,
drink, nor converse with their wives, from sun-rise till the stars
appear, or the lamps are hung out at the Mosques. Any man who breaks it
is punished with death; but the worst of it is, that they will not allow
even travellers, the sick or the wounded, to plead a right to exemption:
some of the Turks, however, and all the Christians, have hit upon
expedients to pass the month without much mortification; that is,
sleeping in bed all day, and sitting up and carousing all night, to
evade the restraint.
The last and greatest ordinance of their religion is the pilgrimage to
Mecca, which when once accomplished is supposed to be a direct passport
to Heaven; and there are few of them who do not at one time or other of
their lives take that painful and hazardous journey. As this is a very
interesting journey, however, to travel in the closet, as it includes
the description of a caravan, and serves to shew to what extremities
enthusiasm can influence men, I will give you a description of it as
handed to me by a very accurate and ingenious person, on whose precise
veracity I can rely; first making some remarks upon the preceding part
of this letter.
You will observe from what I have already said, that, excepting the mere
points of religious faith, the moral ordinances of Mahomedanism
comprehend most of those parts of the Christian religion, on the
practice of which the reputation of piety is founded; and that for
strict obedience to those ordinances the Mahomedans are more remarkable
than we are. Adultery is not frequent among them; wine is seldom or
never used; theft is little known; so is murder. Then in the practical
parts of devotion, there are in the first place prayers; secondly,
abstinence or fasting; thirdly, charity. Those are all Christian
doctrines, more zealously observed by them than by us. Their ablutions
are at least no injury to the cause of morality or piety; but rather,
being done as a religious exercise, serve to keep up the series of
intercourse which should subsist between the Creature and his Creator:
besides, I cannot help thinking with our inimitable poet Thomson, that
——-from the body’s purity, the mind
Receives a secret sympathetic aid.
SEASONS—Summer.
And as to the pilgrimage to Mecca, however irrational it may appear to
us, it is at least recommended by sincerity and zeal, and is doubtless
in the eye of an all-seeing Providence meritorious. HE, we are to
suppose, will judge not by the value of the act but the purity of the
motive; and will accept it as the offering of a frail, blind mortal,
bending in obedience to that which he conceives to be the will of
Heaven. Besides, for the life of me I cannot see why a pilgrimage to
Mecca is at all more culpable than a pilgrimage to Jerusalem; not to
mention the thousand other holy places to which well-meaning Christians
go, for their soul’s sake, at imminent hazard of their lives, and
certain mortification and hardship to their bodies.
Banish, then, my FREDERICK! banish from your heart all illiberal and
uncharitable prejudices, if any have yet found their way to it. Revere
and cling to your Religion as the best and most conducive to eternal and
temporal happiness; and the more good because it enjoins us to be
charitable even to the Jews as well as to the Gentiles: but never think
that you advance the cause of that Religion, or do service to your GOD,
by waging war against your fellow-creatures for opinions they can no
more help entertaining than you can help having yours, or by denouncing
against them that eternal sentence which rests with the Almighty alone
to judge of or to pronounce.
To a benevolent mind the animosities of mankind present a most
afflicting picture; and the frivolous pretexts upon which those
animosities are grounded render it only the more horrible. One would
think that the substantial traffic of life, and the struggle of mankind
for the superfluities of it, of themselves afforded ample materials for
scuffle, without resorting to the shadows of speculation for contention.
Yet experience has shewn us that opinion is a much more copious source
of animosity and warfare; and that for one man who has been cursed,
murdered, or destroyed by his fellow-creatures in a contest for
property, there are a thousand who have fallen sacrifices to the
vengeance of hostile opinion:
Ταρασσει τους ανθρωπους ου τα πραγματα, αλλα τα περι των
πραγματων δογματα.
Were it possible that I could obtain from the bounty of Heaven a grant
of the first wish of my heart, that wish should be to see all mankind in
harmony and mutual good will, ranging without distinction under the one
great name of Man and Brother. As those who foment the disunion between
them are the most pernicious monsters of society, so he who endeavours
to bring them one step nearer to a general accommodation of sentiment,
who strives to inculcate the principles of mutual toleration, and
encourage the growth of reciprocal affection between men as fellow
beings, may be justly ranked among the best friends of mankind, and the
most faithful servants of Him who gave being to all.
Among the gross misrepresentations of which I complain, and which for
the sake of mankind I lament, is that general falsehood, the infidelity
of the Turkish women. The respectable author whom I have before taken
the freedom of quoting, I mean Dr. Russel, declares that in twenty years
residence at Aleppo, he did not remember a public instance of adultery;
and that in the private walks of scandal those he heard of were among
the lowest class, and did not in number exceed a dozen. “In respect to
the Franks (continues he) the undertaking is attended not only with such
risk to the individual, but may in its consequences so seriously involve
the whole settlement, that it is either never attempted, or is concealed
with a secrecy unexampled in other matters. I have reason to believe
that European travellers have sometimes had a Greek courtesan imposed on
them for a Sultana; and after having been heartily frightened, have been
induced to pay smartly, in order to preserve a secret which the day
after was known to half the sisterhood in town.” He remarks, however,
that at Constantinople the state of gallantry is different.
On the subject of the Turkish moral character, I have endeavoured to be
as concise as justice would allow me to be; and yet I find that I have
gone to some length. I cannot however dismiss it without giving you a
trait to which the most obstinate polemical prejudice, and the most
inveterate hatred, must in spite of them pay the tribute of applause.
Their treatment to their slaves is beyond all example among us humane,
tender, and generous, and such as may well bring a blush in the faces of
Christian dealers in human flesh. When young slaves, male or female, are
bought by a Turk, they seem to be introduced into the family rather in
the condition of an adopted child; they receive the same education,
perform nearly the same offices, and are bound to no greater marks of
respect than their master’s own children—and in fact feel none of the
galling circumstances of a state of servility; the very worst treatment
they ever receive is to be put on a footing with the menial domestics,
or ordered to the same duty as a valet or a page. It often happens, on
the other hand, that they are married into the family, and very
frequently are promoted to high offices in the State. If they adopt the
Religion of their masters, it is always spontaneously; and even to
slaves taken in war, no compulsion is used to make then change their
Faith.
The following is the best description I am able to give you of an
Eastern Caravan. It exactly coincides with my own observations, and with
the various accounts I have had from others. I owe it, as well as the
account of the proceedings of the pilgrims at Mecca, to the kind offices
of a friend, who took the pains to procure them for me.
-------------------------------------------
DESCRIPTION OF A CARAVAN.
_Inclosed in the preceding Letter._
A caravan, which is so often mentioned in the history and description of
the East, and in all the tales and stories of those countries, is an
assemblage of travellers, partly pilgrims, partly merchants, who collect
together in order to consolidate a sufficient force to protect them, in
travelling through the hideous wilds and burning deserts over which they
are constrained to pass for commercial and other purposes; those wilds
being infested with Arabs, who make a profession of pillage, and rob in
most formidable bodies, some almost as large as small armies. As the
collection of such a number requires time, and the embodying of them is
a serious concern, it is concerted with great care and preparation, and
is never attempted without the permission of the Prince in whose
dominions it is to be formed, and of those also through whose dominions
it is to pass, expressed in writing. The exact number of men and
carriages, mules, horses, and other beasts of burthen, are specified in
the license; and the merchants to whom the caravan belongs, regulate and
direct every thing appertaining to its government and police during the
journey, and appoint the various officers necessary for conducting it.
Each caravan has four principal officers: the first, the Caravanbachi,
or head of the caravan; the second, the Captain of the march; the third,
the Captain of the stop or rest; and the fourth, the Captain of the
distribution. The first has the uncontroulable authority and command
over all the others, and gives them his orders: the second is absolute
during the march; but his authority immediately ceases on the stopping
or encamping of the caravan, when the third assumes his share of the
authority, and exerts it during the time of its remaining at rest: and
the fourth orders the disposition of every part of the caravan, in case
of an attack or battle. This last officer has also during the march the
inspection and direction of the distribution of provisions, which is
conducted under his management by several inferior officers, who are
obliged to give security to the master of the caravan; each of them
having the care of a certain number of men, elephants, dromedaries,
camels, &c. &c. which they undertake to conduct and furnish with
provisions at their own risque, according to an agreement stipulated
between them.
A fifth officer of the caravan is the pay-master or treasurer, who has
under him a great many clerks and interpreters, appointed to keep
accurate journals of all the material incidents that occur upon the
journey. And it is by these journals, signed by the superior officers,
that the owners of the caravan judge whether they have been well or ill
served or conducted.
Another kind of officers are the Mathematicians, without whom no caravan
will presume to set out. There are commonly three of them attached to a
caravan of large size; and they perform the offices both of
quarter-masters and aides-de-camp, leading the troops when the caravan
is attacked, and assigning the quarters where the caravan is appointed
to encamp.
There are no less than five distinct sorts of caravans: first, the heavy
caravans, which are composed of elephants, dromedaries, camels, and
horses; secondly, the light caravans, which have but few elephants;
thirdly, the common caravans, where there are none of those animals;
fourthly, the horse caravans, where there are neither dromedaries nor
camels; and lastly, sea caravans, consisting of vessels; from whence you
will observe that the word caravan is not confined to the land, but
extends to the water also.
The proportion observed in the heavy caravan is as follows: When there
are five hundred elephants, they add a thousand dromedaries and two
thousand horses at the least; and then the escort is composed of four
thousand men on horseback. Two men are required for leading one
elephant, five for three dromedaries, and seven for eleven camels. This
multitude of servants, together with the officers and passengers, whose
number is uncertain, serve to support the escort in case of a fight, and
render the caravan more formidable and secure. The passengers are not
absolutely obliged to fight; but according to the laws and usages of the
caravans, if they refuse to do so, they are not entitled to any
provisions whatever from the caravan, even though they should agree to
pay an extravagant price for them.
Every elephant is mounted by what they call a Nick; that is to say, a
young lad of nine or ten years old, brought up to the business, who
drives the elephant, and pricks it with a pointed iron to animate it in
the fight: the same lad also loads the fire-arms of the two soldiers who
mount the elephant with him.
The day of the caravan setting out being once fixed, is never altered or
postponed; so that no disappointment can possibly ensue to any one.
One would suppose that so enormous and powerful a body, so well armed,
might be certain of moving forward without fear of being robbed; but as
most of the Arabian Princes have no other means to subsist but by their
robberies, they keep spies in all parts, who give them notice when the
caravans set out, which they way-lay; and sometimes attack with superior
force, overpower them, plunder them of all their treasure, and make
slaves of the whole convoy—foreigners excepted, to whom they generally
shew more mercy. If they are repulsed, they generally come to some
agreement; the conditions of which are pretty well observed, especially
if the assailants are native Arabians. The carrying on of robberies with
such armies may appear astonishing; but when the temptation is
considered, and when it is known that one caravan only is sometimes
enough to enrich those Princes, much of our surprise vanishes.
They are obliged to use great precautions to prevent the caravan from
introducing that dreadful distemper, the plague, into the places through
which they pass, or from being themselves infected with it. When
therefore they arrive near a town, the inhabitants of the town and the
people of the caravan hold a solemn conference concerning the state of
their health, and very sincerely communicate to each other the state of
the case, candidly informing each other whether there be danger on
either side.—When there is reason to suspect any contagious distemper,
they amicably agree that no communication whatever shall take place
between them; and if the caravan stands in need of provisions, they are
conveyed to them with the utmost caution over the walls of the town.
The fatigues, hardships, and hazards, attending those caravans, are so
great, that they certainly would never be undertaken, if the amazing
profits did not in some measure counterbalance them.—The merchant who
travels in them must be content with such provisions as he can get, must
part with all his delicacies, and give up all hope of ease; he must
submit to the frightful confusion of languages and nations; the fatigues
of long marches over sands, and under a climate almost sufficiently hot
to reduce him to a cinder: he must submit cheerfully to exorbitant
duties fraudulently levied, and audacious robberies and subtle tricks
practised by the herd of vagabonds who follow the caravans—for
preventing which, the merchants have a variety of well contrived locks,
that can only be opened by those who know the knack of them.
But in some tracks of caravans there are dangers, and horrible ones,
against which no human foresight or power can provide, and beneath which
whole caravans sink, and are never after heard of.
The Egyptian caravans are particularly subject to hazards in the horrid
tracks they are necessarily obliged to take through sandy deserts,
where, for boundless extents, nature has denied one single circumstance
of favour; where a blade of grass never grew, nor a drop of water ever
ran; where the scorching fire of the sun has banished the kindly
influence of the other elements; where, for several days journey, no
object meets the eye to guide the parched traveller in his way; and
where the casual track of one caravan is closed by the moving sands,
before another can come to take advantage of it. In those vast plains of
burning sands, if the guide should happen to lose his way, the provision
of water, so necessary to carry them to the place where they are to find
more, must infallibly fail them: in such a case the mules and horses die
with fatigue and thirst; and even the camels, notwithstanding their
extraordinary power to subsist without water, soon perish in the same
manner, together with the people of the caravan, wandering in those
frightful deserts.
But more dreadful still, and still more inevitable, is the danger when a
south wind happens to rise in those sandy deserts. The least mischief it
occasions is, to dry up the leathern bags which contain the provision of
water for the journey. This wind, to which the Arabs give the epithet of
poisoned, often stifles in a moment those who have the misfortune to
meet it; to prevent which, they are obliged to throw themselves
immediately on the ground, putting their faces close to the burning
sands which surround them on all sides, and covering their mouths with
some linen cloth, lest by breathing they should swallow instantaneous
death, which this wind carries with it wherever it extends.—Besides
which, whole caravans are often buried under moving hills of burning
sand, raised by the agitation of the winds.
All those horrors and dangers are so exquisitely described by our
charming bard THOMSON, that I cannot refrain from transcribing the
passage, as bringing them more immediately home to the understanding and
the heart, than volumes of common description could do.
———— Breathed hot
From all the boundless furnace of the sky,
And the wide glittering waste of burning sand,
A suffocating wind the pilgrim smites
With instant death. Patient of thirst and toil,
Son of the Desert! even the camel feels,
Shot through his withered heart, the fiery blast.
Or from the black-red ether bursting broad
Sallies the sudden whirlwind. Straight the sands,
Commov’d around, in gathering eddies play;
Nearer and nearer still they darkening come;
Till, with the general all-involving storm
Swept up, the whole continuous wilds arise;
And by their noon-day fount dejected thrown,
Or sunk at night in sad disastrous sleep
Beneath descending hills, the caravan
Is buried deep. In Cairo’s crowded streets
Th’ impatient Merchant wondering waits in vain,
And Mecca saddens at the long delay.————
Yet, notwithstanding all those horrible circumstances of terror and
danger—trade, and the desire of gain, on the one hand, induce multitudes
of people to run the hazard:
Impiger extremos currit Mercator ad Indos,
Per mare pauperiem fugiens, per saxa, per ignes.
HORACE.
And on the other hand, enthusiasm and religious zeal send thousands to
tempt their fate, and take a passage to Heaven through those horrid
regions. Thus we see in what various ways delusion operates.—The
Merchant might find a livelihood, and the Bigot his way to divine
favour, just as well by staying within the confines of their own native
home.
ACCOUNT OF THE CEREMONIES OBSERVED BY PILGRIMS
ON THEIR ARRIVAL AT MECCA.
The caravans are generally so ordered as to arrive at Mecca about forty
days after the Fast of Ramedan, and immediately previous to the Corban,
or Great Sacrifice. Five or six days before that Festival, the three
great caravans, viz. that from Europe, that from Asia Minor, and that
from Arabia, unite; and all, consisting of about two hundred thousand
men, and three hundred thousand beasts of burthen, encamp at some miles
from Mecca. The pilgrims form themselves into small detachments, and
enter the town to arrange the ceremonies preparatory to the Great
Sacrifice. They are led through a street of continual ascent, till they
arrive at a gate on an eminence, called the Gate of Health. From thence
they see the great Mosque which incloses the House of Abraham. They
salute it with the most profound respect and devotion, repeating twice,
“Salam Alek Irusoul Allah!” that is to say, “Peace be with the
Ambassador of God!” Thence, at some distance, they mount five steps to a
large platform faced with stone, where they offer up their prayers; they
then descend on the other side of it, and advance towards two arches, of
the same kind of dimensions, but at some distance from each other,
through which they pass with great silence and devotion. This ceremony
must be performed seven times.
From hence proceeding to the great Mosque which incloses the House of
Abraham, they enter the Mosque, and walk seven times round the little
building contained within it, saying, “This is the House of GOD, and of
his servant Abraham.” Then kissing with great veneration a black stone,
said to have descended white from Heaven, they go to the famous Well
called Zun Zun, which the Angel shewed to Hagar when she was distressed
in the desert, and could find no water for her son Ishmael, and which
the Arabs call Zem Zem. Into this Well they plunge with all their
clothes, repeating “Toba Alla, Toba Alla!” that is to say, “Forgiveness,
GOD! Forgiveness, GOD!” They then drink a draught of that fœtid, turbid
water, and depart.
The duty of bathing and drinking they are obliged to pass through once;
but those who would gain Paradise before the others, must repeat it once
a day during the stay of the Caravan at Mecca.
At fifteen miles from the town of Mecca there is a hill called “Ghiabal
Arafata,” or “the Mount of Forgiveness.” It is about two miles in
circumference—a most delicious spot. On it ADAM and EVE met, after the
LORD had, for their transgressions, separated them forty years. Here
they cohabited and lived in excess of happiness, having built a house on
it, called “Beith Adam,” that is to say, “the House of Adam.” On the eve
of the day of Sacrifice, the three caravans, ranged in a triangular
form, surround this mountain—during the whole night the people rejoice,
clamour and riot—firing off cannon, muskets, pistols, and fire-works,
with an incessant sound of drums and trumpets. As soon as day breaks, a
profound silence succeeds—they slay their sheep and offer up their
sacrifice on the mountain with every demonstration of the most profound
devotion.
On a sudden a Scheik (or Head of a Temple), a kind of Prelate, rushes
from amidst them, mounted on a camel—he ascends five steps, rendered
practicable for the purpose, and in a studied sermon preaches thus to
the people:
“Return praise and thanks for the infinite and immense benefits granted
by GOD to Mahomedans, through the mediation of his most beloved friend
and prophet, Mahomet: for that he has delivered them from the slavery
and bondage of sin and idolatry, in which they were plunged; has given
them the House of Abraham, from whence they can be heard, and their
petitions granted; also the Mountain of forgiveness, by which they can
implore Him, and obtain a pardon and remission of all their sins.
“For that the blessed, pious, and merciful GOD, giver of all good gifts,
commanded his secretary, Abraham, to build himself a house at Mecca,
whence his descendants might pray to the Almighty, and their desires be
fulfilled.
“On this command all the mountains in the world ran, as it were, each
ambitious to assist the Secretary of the LORD, and to furnish a stone
towards erecting the holy house; all, except this poor little Mountain,
which, through mere indigence, could not contribute a stone. It
continued therefore thirty years grievously afflicted: at length the
Eternal GOD observed its anguish, and, moved with pity at its long
suffering, broke forth, saying, I can forbear no longer, my child! your
bitter lamentations have reached my ears; and I now declare, that all
those who go to visit the house of my friend Abraham shall not be
absolved of their sins, if they do not first reverence you, and
celebrate on you the holy Sacrifice, which I have enjoined my people
through the mouth of my prophet Mahomet! Love GOD! Pray! Give Alms!”
After this sermon the people salute the Mountain, and depart.
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LETTER XXXII.
-------------------------------------------
In my last letters I endeavoured to give you an account of the Turkish
Government, Laws, and Constitution in general, so far as I was able to
collect information on the subject. I will now proceed to a description
of those particular parts of that vast Empire through which I had
occasion to travel.
During my stay at Aleppo, I experienced much politeness and hospitality
from the European gentry resident there, and particularly from Mr. ——-,
at whose house I entirely resided; and as the Franks live on a very good
footing with each other, the time passed so agreeably, that were it not
for “that within,” I should have been happy enough—We rode out
occasionally, sometimes hunting, sometimes merely for the ride sake.
Sometimes with an intelligent native whom I got to walk with me, or with
some of the Franks, I walked about the town, in order to amuse away the
time and see what was going forward, notwithstanding the cry of “Frangi
Cucu!” or “Cuckold Frank!” which frequently followed us for the length
of a street. Sometimes we went of evenings to some of the outlets, where
preparation was made for our reception by servants, previously
dispatched for the purpose, and there regaled with coffee, wine, fruits,
&c.
The first day we went on a party of the last mentioned kind, Mrs. ——-
did us the honour to accompany us: the place appointed was in a range of
beautiful rural gardens that lie along the side of a river; where the
well cultivated earth teeming with a vast abundance of the best esculent
plants, flowers, flowering shrubs and fruit-trees, afforded a most
delicious regale to the senses; and the plane, the willow, the ash, the
pomegranate, and a variety of other trees, clustered together in almost
impervious thickets, yielded a delightful shady retreat from the
piercing rays of the Sun. It was on this occasion that I got the first
specimen of Turkish illiberality, which, as I was entirely unprepared
for it, confounded me, and nearly deprived me of temper and of prudence.
As we walked along, I observed several Turks addressing themselves to
Mrs. ——- and me, who walked arm in arm, and speaking with a loudness of
voice, contortion of countenance, and violence of gesticulation,
attended with a clapping of hands, which, though I did not understand
their language, I could plainly perceive carried the appearance of
menace or insult. I was at a loss what to think of it: Mrs. ——- blushed,
and seemed much hurt: Mr. ——- and the other gentlemen were silent, and
betrayed not the least mark of emotion or resentment. At length, when we
got from them, I asked what it meant? and was told, that it was all
aimed at Mrs. ——-, or at least occasioned by her: that, bigoted to the
customs of their own country, and utterly ignorant of those of any
other, they were affected with great indignation at her dress,
occasional derangement of her veil, and, above all, at the shameless and
unpardonably wicked circumstance of a woman walking so openly and
familiarly in the company of men. Talking of this affair afterwards with
Mr. ——-, the lady’s husband, he assured me, that there was not an
opprobrious and infamous epithet which the vulgar ingenuity of the
brightest quean in Billingsgate could think of, that they had not
huddled upon us. I was beyond measure astonished at the coolness with
which he bore it, and said, that if I had understood what they had said,
I should most certainly have been unable to restrain myself, and would
have knocked one of them down as an example to the rest. Had you done
so, returned he, you would certainly have repented it: for, if you
escaped being stoned, or put to death upon the spot, the legal
punishment for an infidel striking a true believer, you could not
escape; and probably we, and all the Franks in the city, would suffer
for it: it would at all events cause a dreadful convulsion in the place,
and you would yourself fall a sacrifice to it.
Not long since I was conversing on this subject with a gentleman of my
acquaintance, and mentioned it with some asperity, as arising from a
spirit of bigotry peculiar to Mahomedans.—“My good Sir,” said he, “let
me undeceive you! the very same would be done in most parts of Spain. I
was one day,” continued he, “walking in a town in Spain, in company with
the wife of a gentleman who resided there, who were both well known, and
bore the most unexceptionable character. Seeing me however walking with
her, the populace, as we passed, held up two fingers significantly, and
cried to her, What a cuckold is your husband! and concluded with ‘Todas
las Inglesas son putas,’ or, ‘All English women are ——s.’” He added,
“that he was even in Cadiz, where commercial intercourse renders them
rather more liberal than in other parts of that country, frequently
accosted by little children themselves, with ‘Crees in Dios?’ Do you
believe in God? and sometimes forming a cross with the thumb of the
right hand and the forefinger, ‘Crees en este? Crees en este? No! No! Ah
Judio! Moro! Barbaro! Bruto! Protestante! Puerco! Voia al los
Infernos!!’ In English—Do you believe in this? Do you believe in this?
No! No! Ah Jew! Moor! Barbarian! Protestant! Hog! Go to Hell!!”
So much for human beneficence and charity, under the fostering auspices
of religion!
The house of Mr. ——-, where I was so hospitably lodged, was a
magnificent edifice, built in all the fullness of Eastern grandeur and
luxury, and furnished with all the splendour and state of Turkey, united
with the taste and opulence of Great Britain. It was indeed a house in
which voluptuousness itself might sit down with satisfaction—The most
unaffected hospitality and generous benevolence invited and spread the
board, and politeness and affability presided over all. Never shall I
forget it—never shall I think of it without gratitude and esteem.
A gentleman of the opulence and consequence of Mr. ——-, with a house
such as I have described, and a disposition to social enjoyment, was
not, you will conclude, without a resort of company and friends; in
truth, he had friends even among the better sort of Turks. Parties of
pleasure had no intermission while I was there; and as the ladies of
Europe or of European extraction in that country are highly
accomplished, speak many languages, are indefatigable in their efforts
to please, and receive strangers from Europe with a joy and satisfaction
not to be described, Aleppo would have been to me an Elysium, if the
pleasures of the place did not from the beginning suffer diminution from
my own painful sensations, which were aggravated at last by an incident
that arose from my intercourse there—of which more hereafter.
While I remained at Aleppo, I walked, as I before told you, frequently
about the streets; and I think I never was witness to so many broils in
all my life put together, as I was in my wanderings there—Not a time I
went out that I did not observe one, two, three, and sometimes half a
dozen or more. They have nothing terrible in them however, and, were it
not extremely disgusting to see men scold, would be very entertaining;
for I will venture to say that a street battle “à la Turque” is one of
the most ludicrous exhibitions in the world. The parties approach to
each other, and retreat mutually, as the action of the one gives hopes
to the other of victory, lifting their hands, and flourishing them in
the air, as if ready to strike every moment, grinning and gnashing their
teeth, while their beard and whiskers besprent with the spume of their
mouths, and wagging with the quick motion of their lips and ghastly
contortions of their jaws, present the most ridiculous spectacle
imaginable. They reminded me at the time of a verse in an old English
Ballad:—
’Tis merry in the hall,
When beards wag all.
Nothing, in fact, can exceed the extravagance of their gesture: the
vehement loudness of their voice, or the whimsical distortions of their
countenances, in which are displayed sometimes the quickest vicissitudes
of fear and fury, and sometimes the most laughable combination of both.
All this time, however, not a single blow is actually struck; but they
compensate for the want of bodily prowess by the exercise of the tongue,
denouncing vengeance against each other, threatening instant demolition,
lavishing every bitter reproach, every filthy epithet, and every
horrible imprecation that they can think of, and both boasting
occasionally of their patience and forbearance, which fortunately
enabled them to refrain from annihilating their adversary. At last the
fray gradually decays: exhausted with fatigue, and half choaked with
dust and vociferation, they retreat gradually backwards to their own
doors; where summing up all their malignity into a most horrid
execration, they part for the time, and retire to vaunt in empty threat,
and growl away their rage, in the recesses of their Haram.
Yet those people are found terrible in battle by the Christian troops
that have from time to time been opposed to them: here, if proof be
wanting of the effects of Religion on the human mind, is an
incontrovertible one of its powerful operations. Under the influence of
their faith, which tells them that they go to Paradise instantly if
killed in battle with Infidels, they perform prodigies of valour
fighting against Christians; while, forbidden by that faith to imbrue
their hands in the blood of a true believer, their passions have been
gradually brought under the dominion of their religion, till that which
at first was faith at last becomes habit, and the appropriate energy and
courage of the man has sunk into the degrading and emasculant efforts of
the woman.
The practice of fighting, or personal conflicts between individuals of
the same society, seems to have been condemned by the universal consent
of all religions. The Gentoos, as well as all the other sects of the
various parts of the East through which I have travelled, give vent to
their passion in nearly the same manner as the Turks. The Christians too
are most strictly forbidden to strike one another by the great Author of
their faith: but it is their good fortune, that they not only have the
best religion in the world for their guidance, but that they are the
only people in the world who claim exemption from the penalties of that
religion, and think themselves wronged and their personal rights
infringed, if they are refused the privilege of breaking through its
rules whenever those rules are at variance with their convenience.
Be it your care, my dear child! to fortify your mind with the spirit of
true religion and sound morality, and let your practice in life be ever
guided by their precepts.
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LETTER XXXIII.
-------------------------------------------
The avidity with which human creatures search for something to recreate
the mind and keep it in exercise, is of itself a convincing proof of the
natural activity of our intellectual faculties, and shews that, like the
different parts of the body, they were given by Providence to be called
into effort and improved by practice. As they who by the favours of
opulence are exempted from the necessity of actual bodily labour, are
obliged to have recourse to artificial labour called exercise; so they
who have the misfortune to be precluded from the employment of the mind
by business, are obliged to seek mental exercise in a variety of
expedients, some of which are criminal, some foolish, and some good for
nothing or indifferent. Cards, dice, and games of chance are (according
to the extent to which they are carried) of the two former—tale and
novel-reading of the two latter. Those however serve to occupy the
vacant hours of all the idle and unemployed. And when letters deny their
friendly aid, we find among ourselves the deficiency supplied from the
less ample resources of the memory; and story-telling, love tales, fairy
tales, and goblin and ghost adventures, are recited round the villager’s
fire or the kitchen hearth in as great numbers, with as much ingenuity,
and to as great effect, as they are to be found written in the
innumerable volumes on the shelves of our circulating libraries.
In Turkey, where the art of printing has not yet been known, where the
circulation of literary productions is chained down within the narrow
compass of manuscript, and where therefore the efforts of genius are
repressed by discouragement, the business of story-telling makes in
itself a profession, which, as it is acquired by study and prosecuted
with art, is followed with considerable profit.
One day a friend (a French gentleman) who escorted me through the town,
called to draw me out with him for a walk; he said he wished to shew me
some of the caravanseras, observing that he thought I should be
entertained with a view of them. I agreed to go; and he brought me to
two, which, after he had shewn to me and explained their principle,
police, and etiquette, I could not help admiring and approving. To both
these were attached eating-houses and coffee-houses, and every appendage
that could render them convenient and comfortable. As we were about
leaving the last, I observed my friend stop and listen attentively.
“Come hither,” said he, after a minute’s pause—“come into this
coffee-house, here is something going forward that may amuse you.”
We accordingly entered the coffee-house, where we saw a number of
people, some seated in the Turkish fashion, some on low stools, and some
standing; and in the middle a man walking to and fro, speaking in an
audible voice, sometimes slowly, sometimes with rapidity, varying his
tones occasionally with all the inflexions of a corresponding sense. I
could not understand him, but he seemed to me to speak with “good
emphasis and good discretion:” his action was easy to him, though
expressive and emphatical; and his countenance exhibited strong marks of
eloquent expression. I could not help staring with astonishment at a
scene so new to me, and felt great approbation of the tones and manner
of this extraordinary orator, though I could not understand a single
word he said. He was listened to by all with great attention, and the
Turks (albeit not used to the laughing mood) frequently betrayed strong
symptoms of risibility: but in the height and torrent of his speech he
broke suddenly off, scampered out of the door and disappeared. I set it
down that he was a maniac or lunatic of an ingenious kind, and was for
going away. “Stay,” says my friend, “rest where you are for a few
minutes, let us hear further.”
The orator had scarcely been gone three minutes when the room was filled
with the buzz of conversation, a word of which I could not understand,
but which my guide listened to very attentively. At length the buzz
began to grow loud, and soon increased into clamour; when a scene ensued
of so very ludicrous a kind as forced me to cram my handkerchief into my
mouth to suppress a laugh, or at least so to stifle it as to avoid
observation. In short, they were disputing violently, and the beards
were, as I once before mentioned to you, ALL WAGGING. I became more
convulsed with mirth; and my friend seeing that I was likely to give
offence, took me under the arm and hurried me out of the coffee-house:
we retired into a porch in the caravansera, where I gave vent to my
suppressed laughter till my sides were sore and my eyes ran tears.
“In the name of God, my friend!” said I, “tell me what is the meaning of
all that extravagant scene to which we have just now been witness: who
is that madman that spoke so much? and why did they all quarrel after he
went away?”
“Come, come,” said he, “let us retire to my house, and I will there
explain the whole of it to you, from beginning to ending.”
I accordingly accompanied him home, where we found a very gay circle
assembled, to whom he described my astonishment; recounting my
immoderate laughter, till they all laughed very nearly as immoderately
as myself. “You must know,” said he, addressing himself to me, “that he
whom you took to be a madman, is one of the most celebrated composers
and tellers of stories in Asia, and only wants the aid of printing, to
be perhaps as eminent in reputation for making CONTES, as Marmontel or
Madame D’Anois. As we passed along I heard his voice, and, knowing it,
resolved to let you see him, and brought you in for the purpose. He was
entertaining the company with a very curious, interesting, and comical
story; the subject of which was avarice; the hero a miser of the name of
Cassem. His misery and avarice are represented in it as bringing him
into a variety of scrapes, which waste his wealth; and his character is
drawn with such strength of colouring, and marked with such grotesque
lines of humour—he related it moreover with so much wit, in such
admirable language, and embellished and enforced it with such
appropriate action, utterance and emphasis—that it riveted, as you saw,
the attention of all his auditors, and extorted laughter even from
Turkish gravity.”
“But how came he to break off so suddenly?” said I.
“That,” returned my friend, “is a part of the art of his profession,
without which he could not live: just as he gets to a most interesting
part of the story, when he has wound the imagination of his auditors up
to the highest climax of expectation, he purposely breaks off to make
them eager for the rest. He is sure to have them all next day, with
additional numbers who come on their report, and he makes his terms to
finish the story.”
“Why then,” interrupted I, “why did they who remained behind fall
disputing?”
“That I will explain to you,” said he. “Just as he broke off, Cassem the
miser (who, as far as I heard, seems as well drawn as Moliere’s AVARE)
having already suffered a thousand whimsical misfortunes and
dilapidations of fortune, is brought before the Cadi for digging in his
garden, on the presumption that he was digging for treasure. As soon as
the historian was gone, they first applauded him, and then began to
discuss his story—which they one and all agreed in praising highly: and
when they came to talk of the probable issue of the sequel of it, there
were almost as many opinions as there were men in company; each
maintained his own, and they went to loggerheads as you saw about
it—when the chance is a thousand to one, that not one of them was near
the mark. One in particular surmised that Cassem would be married to the
Cadi’s daughter; which gave great offence to some, and roused another of
the company to declare, that he was well assured in his conscience that
Cassem would be brought to the bastinado or the stake, or else hanged,
in the sequel.”
“And is it possible,” said I, “that a group of twenty or thirty rational
beings can be so far bereft of all common sense, as to dispute upon the
result of a contingency, which absolutely depends on the arbitrary fancy
of an acknowledged fabricator of falsehoods?”
“_C’est vrai_, Monsieur! and thereby they demonstrate the power of the
poet (for poet we may well call him); and _entre nous_, I doubt whether
it is not more rational, as well as more fair, to dispute what the
_denouement_ ought to be before than after the inventor of the piece has
disposed of it, as is the practice with us. When he has once finished
his fable, you will find them all content, and the voice of criticism
silent. Now in France or England, our critics lie _perdue_, in order to
attack the poet, let him finish his performance how he may. But you will
recollect, Monsieur, that in Turkey criticism is the honest spontaneous
issue of the Heart, and with us is a trade, where sometimes lucre,
sometimes vanity, but oftener than both, envy and malice direct the
decision, and dispose to cavil and censure.
But we will go again to-morrow, continued he, probably he will be there
to conclude or proceed further with his story; I agreed to this and we
parted.
On the next day we went, and not seeing the orator in his place, lounged
about the caravansera, and going to another coffee-house found him
declaiming with all his might. My friend told me that the story he was
now on was quite different from the former: however we watched his
motions so effectually that we got the conclusion of the story of
Cassem, which completely disappointed the prognostics of the two
conflicting Turkish critics; for Cassem was neither bastinadoed, staked,
or hanged, nor married to the Cadi’s daughter, but lived to see that
extreme avarice was folly; and to be sensible that to make the proper
use of the goods of this life is to enjoy them.
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LETTER XXXIV.
-------------------------------------------
My last letter has shewn you, that the conceptions of genius, though
they may want the aid of the Press to bring them in full and perfect
disclosure to the world, will yet burst through their bounds, and find
some means of communication with mankind; for though the art of Printing
be unknown in Turkey, the emanations of superior intellect and fancy
find their way to the general ear through the medium of public
declamation in coffee-houses. This letter will serve to shew you that
malversation in office, public delinquency, and all those crimes of the
great, which with us are cognizable by no tribunal but that of the
public press, are not altogether so exempt from the lash and exposure of
the satirist in Turkey, as the want of that great palladium of Freedom
would dispose us to believe; and that, incredible as it may appear, the
magistrates are held up to ridicule in public exhibition, satirised with
all the extravagant vulgarity of coarse humour and unpolished wit, and
exposed with all the bitter exaggerations of envenomed genius.
The French gentleman whom I mentioned to you in my last, as having
procured me that pleasant repast at the coffee-house, called on me a
morning or two after that, and reminded me how highly I seemed to be
entertained; said, there were often to be seen, by walking about and
going into public places, a variety of things, which, however worthless
and unentertaining in themselves, might, from the novelty of their
appearance, and their unlikeliness to any thing seen in Europe, serve
either to divert by their oddity, or promote the conception of new ideas
in the mind: he therefore recommended it to me, with all the zeal of a
person who took an interest in my happiness, to keep on my legs and in
the streets while I remained at Aleppo.
You will conclude that I readily complied, and we sallied out directly
in quest of adventure. We proceeded, therefore, to one of the
beforementioned coffee-houses, where, as my friend observed to me,
though there were no people of great rank, there was generally something
to afford contemplation or amusement; and where, if nothing else
occurred, the motley appearance of the company was sufficient to excite
a variety of whimsical emotions, and suggest numberless ludicrous images
to the imagination of an English or French man. As there was no orator
at work declaiming, I had time to indulge myself with a more accurate
view than I had before taken of the group that surrounded us: and surely
never was ponderous gravity more ludicrously, or in more various forms
depicted by any caricaturist in the world.—Here it was to be seen, in
all its shadings, from the self-important nod of serious cogitation,
down to the soporific aspect of stolid stupidity. Not a muscle was moved
in way of mirth, not a face disgraced with a smile, and I could not help
thinking all the time, that if every nation of the earth was to take
some animal for its insignia, as the British assume the lion, and the
Prussian the eagle, the Turks might be divided in their choice between
the appropriate claims of the owl and the ass.
Soon after we entered, a band of what they called music, struck up a
concert. And here again the notion of the owl and the ass struck me with
increased force, as peculiarly presiding over their music: for no other
combination of sounds that I know on earth, but the screeching of the
one, and the braying of the other, could form any thing to resemble this
concert, with which the auditory seemed vastly pleased, though I was
obliged to betake myself to flight, in order to get relief from the
torture it gave me. The Turks, however, as I retreated, honoured me with
a few remarks, which as I did not understand, I could not precisely
feel; my friend however told me, they were to the effect that we were
Frangi Dumus (Frank Hog), and had no more ear than that filthy animal
for music.
Come, said my friend, don’t be discouraged!—But the music—the music!
interrupted I.—Well then, said he, the music, or rather the sounds were
execrable to be sure; they have at least served to establish this
certainty, that there is nothing, however discordant or detestable,
which habit will not reconcile us to. Doubt not, said he, that the best
piece of Handel or Correlli, performed by the best band in Rome, would
appear as ridiculous to them, as their concert did to us.
We visited many coffee-houses in the course of that day, in every one of
which we found something to divert or disgust us; at length as we
entered one, my friendly guide turning to me with satisfaction in his
countenance, said “Here is something about to go forward that will
please you better than the concert of music.” What is it, said I? A
drama, returned he; a drama, to you most certainly of a new and
extraordinary kind; and I do assure you that so zealous am I to procure
you entertainment, I would rather than a couple of loui’s you could
understand what is going forward: your hearty mirth and laughter, added
he, are sufficient to put one in spirits. He then directed my attention
to a fellow who was busily employed in erecting a stage, which he
accomplished in a time incredibly short. The light of the sun was
completely excluded, and a puppet shew commenced, which gave great
delight to all the audience, and, ignorant as I was of the language,
pleased me very much.
I was astonished when informed that one man only spoke for all the
personages of the drama, for so artfully did he change his tone of
voice, that I could have sworn there had been as many people to speak,
as there were characters in the piece. The images were not actually
puppets, commonly so called, but shadows done in the manner of Astley’s
_Ombres Chinoises_. They were, however, far inferior to his in execution
and management, though the dialogue and incident evidently appeared,
even to me, to be executed with a degree of the _vis comica_ far
superior to any I ever saw in a thing of the kind in Europe; indeed so
perfect was the whole, that though I knew not a word of the language, I
comprehended clearly the plan of the piece, and many of the strokes of
humour contained in the dialogues.—The plan was obviously taken from a
story which I have read in some of the Eastern tales, I believe the
Arabian Nights Entertainments, and it is founded on the law of the
country, that a man may repudiate his wife twice, and take her back
again; but in the event of a third divorce, cannot retake her to his
marriage-bed, unless she be previously married and divorced by another
man. To obviate which, husbands who repent having divorced their wives a
third time, employ a man to marry them, and restore her back again; and
he who does this office is called a _Hullah_.—In the piece before us,
however, the Lady and the Hullah like each other so well, that they
agree not to separate; the husband brings them both before the Cadi to
enforce a separation; and the scene before the Cadi was as ludicrous,
and as keen a satire upon those magistrates as can well be conceived,
though of the low kind.