Kan Djan (the Khandjan mentioned in my book) had not the slightest idea
of my disguise. He and the other Turkomans imagined me to be a genuine,
pious, and inspired Osmanli from Constantinople, from whom many people
begged letters of introduction to the Ottoman Embassy at Teheran,
letters which I willingly gave. Two of them were given back to me after
my return, by Haidar Effendi, then ambassador at the Persian Court, and
I treasure them as valuable mementos.
There is no doubt there would have been little hope for me had my
identity been discovered, and I learned later from pilgrims who stopped
at Khandjan how vexed the Turkomans were at being cheated out of such a
windfall. But they were certainly much mistaken, for though the Shah, at
the instance of the Emperor Napoleon III., had to pay 12,000 ducats
ransom for Monsieur de Bloqueville, who was captured at Merv while in
the Persian service, no one would have paid a penny for my ransom; and
as, on account of my infirmity, I was useless for the slave market, a
strong ass being worth more than a lame Hadji, it would not have been
worth while to capture me.
Quite recently I heard of the third effect of my incognito in
Afghanistan, and I must own I was not a little astonished. Readers of my
book about my travels may remember that I had a strange adventure in
Herat, when the governor of the province, Prince Yakub Khan, a son of
Shir Ali Khan, then Emir of Afghanistan, who had already seen many
Englishmen, distinguished my European features from those of all my
Tartar companions, and tried to unmask me. That he should have found me
out has always been a marvel to me, for in the poor student, in whose
eyes only hunger and misery were visible, there was really very little
to show European origin.
Now the mystery has been solved. Yakub Khan, who succeeded to his
father's throne after so many vicissitudes, was so unfortunate that at
the very beginning of his reign the English ambassador, Sir Louis
Cavagnari, with his whole suite, was murdered by a fanatic mob in Kabul.
Upon this the English took possession of his capital. Yakub Khan was
taken to India as prisoner, and in the escort which accompanied the
dethroned prince was Colonel Robert Warburton, a very able officer, and
decidedly the one who best knew the border tribes, and who had been
posted for years at the entrance to the Khyber Pass.
This officer (later Sir Robert Warburton), after his return to England,
published his experiences in a book entitled _Eighteen Years in the
Khyber (1879 to 1898), with Portraits, Maps, and Illustrations_. London:
John Murray, 1900. In this book we read on pp. 89-90 the following:--
"After being introduced to Emir Yakub Khan, and seeing that all his
wants were satisfied, I ventured to ask a question harking back to the
time when Arminius Vambéry, after having seen Khiva and Bokhara, arrived
at Herat and appeared in Sardar Muhammed Yakub Khan's presence. Mr.
Vambéry, in his book, states that, having given the benediction, he sat
down next to the Sardar, and pushed his wazir to one side with a good
deal of violence.
"The young Sardar, peering into his face, said: '_Walla au billa
Faringhi hasti_.' This Vambéry denied, and the conversation was then
changed. Having reminded Amir Yakub Khan of the above circumstance, I
asked him if he had identified Mr. Vambéry as a European, and on what
grounds. The ex-Emir said: 'I was seated in an upper chamber watching a
parade of my troops, and the band was playing on the open ground in
front of my window. I noticed a man beating time to the music of the
band with his foot. I knew at once that he must be a European, as
Asiatics are not in the habit of doing this. Later on, when this man
came into my darbar, I charged him with being a Faringhi, which he
denied. However, I did not press the matter, being afraid that if
suspicion had been roused against him, his life might not have been
safe.'
"The same circumstance has been told to me by Sardar Muhammed Hassan
Khan, six weeks before Emir Yakub Khan's arrival at Jellalabad. It may
be noted that Sardar Yakub Khan and he were both at Herat when Mr. A.
Vambéry journeyed there after his wonderful adventures and vicissitudes
in Central Asia. Strange it must seem to have associated hourly for
months throughout his dangerous travels in Khiva and Bokhara with his
Dervish companions, to have shared in all their meals and joined in all
their prayers, and yet to have defied all detection; and then to have
been discovered by one keen-eyed observer for beating time with his foot
to the music of an improvised European band, playing in the glacis of
the fortress of Herat!"
Yes, Sir Robert Warburton's surprise is quite justified. I am astonished
myself that such a thing should have happened to me, and that Melpomene
should have betrayed me. I can only explain this by the fact that I, who
have always been a lover of music, upon hearing the strains of European
music for the first time after many years, unconsciously began to beat
time with my foot. Under the influence of those sounds recalling the
West, I had entirely forgotten hunger, misery, and the dangers that
threatened me especially among the fanatic Afghans, so forcible an
impression did these tones from home make upon me in that foreign
country.
Besides these three authentic bits of news, which I heard by chance, I
also received other vague information through pilgrims from Central Asia
who visited the Bokhara-Tekkesi (monastery) in Constantinople. My
incognito travels have become quite legendary in Turkestan.
Hadji Bilal, my most intimate friend in the pilgrims' caravan with which
we travelled, who visited Mecca and Medina in the seventies, remained
firm in his belief in my Moslemism; he even asserted that if I had
adopted an incognito at all, it was decidedly rather in Europe than in
Asia, and that my _Christianity_ was apocryphal. How far he was right in
his supposition the reader of these memoirs can judge for himself.
In the matter of prejudice, superstition, and fanaticism, there is only
this difference between the West, which is so proud of its civilisation,
and uncultivated Asia, that in the West human passions are restrained by
the laws of more advanced civilisation, and the adherents of foreign
religious or political opinions, are exposed to less dangers in public
life than in Asia where lawlessness and anarchy afford no protection.
Unfortunately I made bitter experiences in this respect. Where my origin
was unknown, my career so full of struggles found much more
acknowledgment than in those circles in which I, as a Jew, was defamed,
and from the very beginning marked as a liar and deceiver. It was the
same with my political opinions. Until the Franco-Russian alliance was
strengthened I had many friends in France, but I lost them all the
moment I took up my position as anti-Russian writer, in England's
interest in Asia. Even in England I was made to feel the effect of
political quarrels amongst the various parties. Mr. Ashton Dilke, a
furious Liberal and a pro-Russian, in conjunction with Herr Eugen
Schuyler, secretary to the American Embassy at St. Petersburg (whose
ancestor took a prominent part against England in the American War of
Independence), took it into his head to represent my journey through
Central Asia as fiction, and attacked me in the _Athenæum_ No. 2,397. He
asserted that I, a connoisseur of Oriental languages, had never been in
Bokhara nor Samarkand, and had written my book with no other foundation
than the facts I had collected in the Bosphorus, and as a proof of this
assertion it was said that I had described the famous nephrit stone on
the tomb of Timour as green, whereas in reality it was blue. Little or
no notice was taken of this attack by my friends in England, and I was
not a little surprised when the noted Russian orientalist, Mr. W.
Grigorieff, declared in _Russki Mir_ that this attack on the
authenticity of my journey was ridiculous and inadmissible, and
designated me as an audacious and remarkable traveller of recent date,
though he had sharply criticised my _History of Bokhara_ some time
before.
Considering my strongly marked opposition to Russia, this trick of
holding out a saving hand seems rather strange; but the kindness evinced
missed its aim, for my political works continued to be anti-Russian.
Also Mr. Schuyler, the American diplomatist, in spite of the hatred he
bore to England, changed his tone in time; for when he visited Budapest
in 1886, I received the following letter from him:--
"BUDAPEST, HOTEL KÖNIGIN VON ENGLAND,
"_Monday, November 8, 1886_.
"DEAR MR. VAMBÉRY,--
"If you are willing to overlook some hasty criticisms of mine when
I was in Central Asia, and will receive me, I shall be most happy
to call upon you.
"Believe me, dear sir, yours most sincerely,
"EUGENE SCHUYLER."
Of course I overlooked the "hasty criticisms," gave Mr. Schuyler a warm
reception, and have corresponded with him ever since. I have only
mentioned this incident to prove how very unstable criticism sometimes
is, and how very often the private interests of religion or of politics
can lead to the attack on a man's character and his honour.
A certain Professor William Davies (?) took it into his head to give
lectures as pseudo-Vambéry, and for the sake of greater resemblance even
feigned lameness, but was unmasked by my deceased friend, Professor
Kiepert, on the 22nd of January, 1868; others again tried to represent
me as an impostor, and discredited the result of my dangers and
privations from personal motives.
I have had endless opportunities of studying human nature in all its
phases. It seemed as though an unkind fate refused to remove the bitter
chalice from my lips, and if, in spite of all, I never lost courage, nor
my lively disposition, I have only my love of work to thank for it; it
drew a veil over all that was unpleasant, and permitted me to gaze
joyfully from my workroom on the outside world. Unfavourable criticism,
which no man of letters can escape, least of all an explorer who has met
with uncommon experiences, never offended or hurt me. But what was most
unpleasant was the thorn of envy the pricks of which I was made to feel,
and the attacks made with evil designs, in which the Russian press
excelled.
Madame de Novikoff, _née_ Olga Kireef, did her utmost to discredit me in
England, and in order to blunt the point of my anti-Russian pen, she
suddenly discovered that I was no Hungarian, but a fraudulent Jew who
had never been in Asia at all, but only wished to undermine the good
relations between England and Russia. This skilled instrument of Russian
politics on the Thames, rejoiced in the friendship of Mr. Gladstone, but
her childish attacks on me have had little effect in shaking my position
and reputation among the British public.
With the exception of such incidents I had reason to be content with the
criticism of my adventurous journey.
APPENDIX II
MY SCIENTIFIC-LITERARY ACTIVITY
My many years of practical study of the Asiatic world, of which I have
attempted to give an account in the preceding pages, were necessarily
followed as soon as I had leisure and quiet by a period of literary
activity. During those years of travel such a vast amount of material
had been accumulating that I must needs put some of it in writing, and
relate some of the things I had seen and experienced. And now that the
beautiful summertime of my life is past, and I look back upon that
period of literary work, I must preface my account of these labours by
stating that in point of quantity, quality, and tendency these
productions were quite in keeping with my previous studies. A
self-educated man, without any direction or guidance in my studies,
without even a definite object in view, my literary career must
necessarily also be full of the weaknesses, faults, and deficiencies of
the self-made man. Just as there are poets by nature, so I was a scholar
by nature, but as there is not and could not be a "_scientifica
licentia_," in the same way as there is a "_poetica licentia_," so the
difficulties I had to fight against were proportionally as great as the
deficiencies and blunders which criticism rightly detected in my works.
Hasty and rash as I had been in acquiring knowledge (for which a
powerful memory and a fiery zeal are chiefly to blame), I was equally
impatient to accomplish the work on hand. When once I had begun to write
a book, I gave myself neither rest nor peace until I saw it finished and
printed on my table, regardless of the saying, "_Nonum prematur in
annum_." Unfortunately my labour lay chiefly in as yet unfrequented
regions of philology and ethnography, consequently the authorities at my
disposal were very limited, and the few that were available were hardly
worth consulting, so I did not trouble with them.
Besides, to make a thorough study of ancient authorities went quite
against the grain with me. I did not care to be always referring to what
others had said and done and to enter into minute speculations and
criticisms in regard to them. To use the expression--I objected to chew
the cud that others had eaten. From a strictly scientific point of view
this was no doubt a grave fault in me. It has always been the novel, the
unknown, and untold which attracted me. Only quite new subjects took my
fancy, only in those regions did I burn with desire to earn my literary
spurs, and although I had not much fear of any one overtaking me in the
race, I was for ever hurrying and hankering after novelty and
originality, not to say fresh revelations. I was always in a rush, and
so did not give the necessary care and attention to the work on hand.
When in the biographical notices about my insignificant person, which
have appeared from time to time, I see myself described as a learned
man, this most unfitting qualification always surprises me, for I am
anything but learned in the ordinary sense of the word, and could not
possibly be. To be a scholar one needs preparation, schooling, and
disposition, all of which I lacked; of a scholar one can say, "_Non
nascitur sed fit_," while all through my life, in all my sayings and
doings I have always acted under the influence of my naturally good or
bad qualities, and have been solely guided by these. The dark side and
the disadvantages of such a character do undoubtedly weigh heavily, but
the mischief done is to a certain extent rectified by its very decided
advantages. Lack of caution makes one bold and daring, and where there
is no great depth, there is the greater extension over the area one has
chosen for one's field of operation. In this manner only can it be
explained why my literary activity encompassed such various regions of
Oriental knowledge, and why I could act as philologist, geographer,
ethnographer, historian, ethnologist, and politician all at once. Of all
the weaknesses and absurdities of the so-called learned guild, the
conventional modesty of scholars has always been the most hateful and
objectionable to me. I loathed nothing so much as the hypocritical
hiding of the material advantage which scholars as much as, if not more
than other mortals have in view, and nothing is to my mind more
despicable than the professed indifference to praise and recognition;
for we all know that scholars and writers are the vainest creatures
born.
Since I am not a professional scholar, I need not be modest according to
the rules of the trade, and as I am about to speak of my literary
activity, and discuss and criticise my own work, I will leave scholarly
modesty quite out of the question, and freely and frankly give my
opinion on the products of my pen.
1. _Travels in Central Asia._
This work, which appeared in several editions in various European and
Asiatic languages, is interesting reading because of the curious methods
of travel and the novelty of the adventures. Incognito journeys had been
made before my time to Mecca and Medina by Burton, Burckhart, Maltzan,
Snouck-Hurgronje, and others, but as a Dervish living on alms, and
undergoing all the penalties of fakirdom, I was certainly the first and
only European. However interesting the account of my adventures may be,
the geographico-scientific results of my journey are not in adequate
proportion to the dangers and sufferings I underwent. Astronomical
observations were impossible, neither was I competent to make them.
Orography and hydrography were never touched upon. The fauna and flora
were closed books to me, and as for geology, I did not even know this
science by name before I came West. But on the other hand, I can point
out with pleasure that in certain parts of Central Asia I was the first
European traveller, and have contributed many names of places to the map
of the region, and furnished many facts hitherto unknown about the
ethnographical relations of the Turks in these parts. What made my book
of travels popular was unquestionably the account of my adventures and
the continual dangers in which I found myself. The European reader can
hardly form any conception of my sufferings and privations; they evoked
the interest and the sympathy of the cultured world; but he who has read
the preceding pages, and is acquainted with the struggles of my
childhood and youth, will not be surprised that the early schooling of
misery and privation I underwent had sufficiently hardened me to bear
the later heavy struggles. The difference between the condition of a
poor Jew-boy and a mendicant Dervish in Central Asia is, after all, not
very great. The cravings of hunger are not one whit easier to bear or
less irksome in cultured Europe than in the Steppes of Asia, and the
mental agony of the little Jew, despised and mocked by the Christian
world, is perhaps harder than the constant fear of being found out by
fanatical Mohammedans. As my first publication was so much appreciated,
I enlarged, at the instigation of my friends, my first account, and
published--
2. _Sketches from Central Asia_,
in which on the one hand I elaborated the account of my adventures with
fresh incidents, and on the other introduced those ethnographical,
political, and economic data which I was unable to incorporate in my
traveller's account written in London, as the documents needed for this
were left behind at home in Pest. With this book, likewise translated in
several languages, I attracted more attention in scientific circles, in
consequence of which I was nominated honorary member of a geographical
society; but still from a scientific point of view this book does not
deserve much attention, for in spite of many new data, it is altogether
too fragmentary, and bears the unmistakable stamp of _dilettantism_. To
be an expert ethnologist I ought to have known much more about
anthropology and anatomy, and particularly the want of measurements
indispensable to anthropological researches, made it impossible for me
to furnish accurate descriptive delineations. Only the part about the
political situation, _i.e._, the rivalry between England and Russia in
Central Asia, was of any real value. This part, which first appeared in
the columns of the periodical _Unsere Zeit_, was freely commented upon
and discussed in official and non-official circles. To this article I
owe my introduction into political literature, and at the same time the
animosity of Russia, I might say the violent anger which the Russian
press has ever since expressed at the mention of my name. In Chapter
VIII. I have referred more fully to this part of my literary career, and
will only mention here that I did not enter upon this course with any
special purpose in view, or with any sense of pleasure. All I cared for
was to make known my purely philological experiences, and accordingly as
soon as I returned from London I set to work upon my--
3. _Chagataic Linguistic Studies._
The fact that I, a self-taught man, with no scholastic education--a man
who was no grammarian, and who had but very vague notions about
philology in general should dare to venture on a philological work, and
that, moreover, in German; that I should dare to lay this before the
severe forum of expert philology--this, indeed, was almost too bold a
stroke, wellnigh on a par with my journey into Central Asia. Fortunately
at that time I was still ignorant of the _furor teutonicus_, and the
spiteful nature of philologists. I was moving, so to speak, on untrodden
ground, for with the exception of the specimen Chagataic passages
published by Quatremere in his _Chrestomathie Orientale_, and what was
published in the original by Baber and Abulghazi, East Turkish was an
entirely unknown language to Western Orientalists. I began by giving
specimens of national literature, proverbs, and the different dialects
of Turkish inner Asia. Then I gave a whole list of East-Turkish books of
which no one in Europe had ever heard, and I published the first
East-Turkish dictionary which the French scholar Pavel de Courteille
incorporated in his later issued work, _Dictionnaire Turk-Oriental_. He
says in his preface, "J'avoue tout de suite, que j'ai mis à contribution
ce dictionnaire, en insérant dans mon travail autant que je le pouvais,
le livre le plus instructif qui fait grand honneur à son auteur," as he
called this my first philological production (Preface, p. xi.). But
still more did it surprise me to find that the Russian Orientalist,
Budagow, who was so much nearer akin to this branch of philology, used
my work in his elaborate dictionary; and so, although the critical press
took little notice of my first philological efforts, I was nevertheless
encouraged to persevere, and began to realise that without being a
scholarly linguist one can yet do useful work in this line. "It is but
the first step that costs," says the proverb. My Chagataic linguistic
studies were soon followed by isolated fragments on this subject, and
the more readily they were received the deeper I endeavoured to
penetrate into the ancient monuments of the Turkish language. As a
result of these efforts appeared my--
4. _Uiguric Linguistic Monuments_,
which was one of the hardest and best paying labours I accomplished in
Turkology, and which advanced me to the title of specialist in Turkish
languages. From the _Turkish Grammar_ by Davids, and an article of
Joubert's in the _Journal Asiatique_, I had heard of the existence of a
mysterious Uiguric manuscript, and when Lord Strangford, moreover, drew
my attention to it, and advised me to try and decipher it, I burned with
ambition, and did not rest until I had secured the loan of this precious
manuscript from the Imperial Library at Vienna. The faint, uncertain
characters, the value of which I had to guess in many cases, the curious
wording, and the peculiarly original contents of the text, exercised an
overpowering charm over me. For more than a year I gazed daily for hours
at the sybillic signs, until at last I succeeded bit by bit in reading
and understanding the manuscript. My joy was boundless. I immediately
decided to publish the deciphered portion, and when, after much trouble
and expense, for the type had first to be made, I saw the imposing
quarto before my eyes, I really believed I had accomplished an important
work. I was strengthened in this idea by the extremely appreciative
comments of my colleagues, and yet it was but a delusion, for my
knowledge of the dialects in the northern and north-easterly frontier
districts of the Turkish languages, was not sufficient to enable me to
understand the entire manuscript, and to accomplish the deciphering of
the entire document. My better qualified and more thoroughly versed
successor, Dr. W. Radloff, was able to show better results at once, and
the only satisfaction that remains to me from this laborious task is the
fact that to me belongs the right of priority; and that Dr. Radloff,
following in my footsteps, attained after thirty years a higher
standpoint and wider view, is due in a large measure to the fact that in
course of time he managed to secure a copy of the _Kudatku Biliks_
written in Arabic characters, and consequently more legible.
And so my _Uiguric Linguistic Monuments_, in spite of many faults and
defects, ranks among the showpieces of my scientific-literary activity.
In any case I had proved that without being a schooled philologist one
can be a pioneer in this line. Following up this only partially
successful experiment, I continued for some time my researches in the
field of Turkology. I wrote an--
5. _Etymological Dictionary of the Turkish Language_,
the first ever written on this subject of philology, in which, without
any precedent, I collected, criticised and compared, until I succeeded
in finding out the stems and roots, and ranged them into separate
families. On this slippery path, on which even the greatest authorities
in philology sometimes stumble, and by their awkward fall bring their
colleagues with them and amuse the world, I, with my inadequate
knowledge of the subject, stumbled and slipped all the oftener. In spite
of all this, however, even my bitterest rival could not deny that I had
succeeded in unravelling the etymology of a considerable number of
Turkish words, and in giving a concrete meaning to many abstract
conceptions. So mighty is the magic charm of discovery that for months
together, by day and by night, I could think of nothing but Turkish
root-words, and as I generally worked from memory, and never in my life,
so to speak, took any notes, it was a real joy to me to follow up the
transitions and changes of an idea to its remotest origin. As a matter
of fact this kind of study, apart from my inadequate knowledge, was not
at all in keeping with my tendencies. Under the delusive cover of
etymological recreation the dry monotony of the study soon became
irksome, and I was quite pleased when this etymological pastime led me
to the investigation of the--
6. _Primitive Culture of the Turko-Tartar People._
Here I felt more at home and stood on more congenial ground, for here
philology served as a telescope, with which I could look into the
remotest past of Turkish tribe-life, and discover many valuable details
of the ethnical, ethical and social conditions of the Turk. As I have
made up my mind to be entirely frank and open in this criticism of my
own work, I am bound to say that I consider this little book one of the
best productions of my pen. It abounds in valuable suggestions, mere
suggestions unfortunately, about the ethnology of the Turk, which could
only flow from the pen of a travelling philologist who united to a
knowledge of the language, a penetration into the customs, character and
views in general of the people under consideration, and who had it all
fresh in his mind and could speak from practical experience. The
recognition which this little book received from my fellow-philologists
was most gratifying to me, and was the chief cause which led me to write
about--
7. _The Turkish People in their Ethnological and Ethnographical
Relationship._
In this work, planned on a much larger scale, I endeavoured to
incorporate my personal experiences of the Turks in general, and also
to introduce the notes and extracts gleaned on this subject from
European and Asiatic literature. In both these efforts I had certain
advantages over others. In the first place no ethnographer had ever had
such long and intimate intercourse with members of this nation, and
secondly, there were not many ethnographers who could avail themselves
as well as I could of the many-tongued sources of information. Here
again I found myself on untrodden paths, and the accomplished work had
the general defects and charms of a first effort. On the whole it was
favourably criticised, and I was therefore the more surprised that the
book had such a very limited sale. I flattered myself I had written a
popular book, or at least a book that would please the reading public,
and I was grievously disappointed when, after a lapse of ten years, not
three hundred copies had been sold. I came to the conclusion that the
public at large troubles itself very little about the origin, customs
and manners, the ramifications and tribal relationships of the Turks,
and that geography and ethnography were only appreciated by the reading
public as long as they were well flavoured with stirring adventures. In
my book about the Turkish people I gave a general survey of all the
tribes and branches of the race collectively, and although no such work
had ever been written about any other Asiatic tribal family, I was
mistaken as to its success. In spite of my favourable literary position
in England, all my endeavours to issue an English edition of this work
were in vain.
East Turkish, both in language and literature, being one of my favourite
studies, and always giving me new thoughts and ideas, I published
simultaneously with my _Turkish People_, an Ösbeg epic poem entitled--
8. _The Sheibaniade_,
which I copied from the original manuscript in the Imperial Library at
Vienna during several summer vacations, and afterwards printed at my own
expense. The copying was a tedious business. The writing of 4,500 double
stanzas tried my eyes considerably, but the historical and linguistic
value of the poem were well worth the trouble. It is a unique copy.
Neither in Europe nor in Asia have I ever heard of the existence of a
duplicate, and it was therefore well worth while to make it accessible
for historical research. The beautiful edition of this work, with
facsimile and a chromo-photographic title page, cost me nearly fourteen
hundred florins, and as scarcely sixty copies were sold I did not get
back a fourth of the sum laid out upon it. The scientific criticism was
limited to one flattering notice in the _Journal Asiatique_. The rest of
the literati, even Orientalists, hardly deigned to take any notice of my
publication, for the number of students of this particular branch of
Oriental languages was, and is still, very small in Europe; even in
Russia it does not yet receive the attention it so richly deserves.
I can therefore not blame myself that I was urged on in this branch of
my literary career by the hope of moral or material gain; it was simply
my personal liking and predilection which made me pursue these subjects.
Only occasionally, when forced thereto by material needs, perhaps also
sometimes for the sake of a change, I left my favourite study and turned
to literary work which could command a larger public and give me a
better chance of making money by it.
Thus it came about that soon after my return from Central Asia I
published the account of my--
9. _Wanderings and Experiences in Persia._
But this was familiar ground, fully and accurately described elsewhere,
both geographically and ethnographically. It was at most my exciting
personal adventures as pseudo-Sunnite amongst the Shiites which could
lay claim to any special interest, perhaps also to some extent its
casual connection with my later wanderings in Central Asia; for the
rest, however, this volume has little value, and with the exception of
England, Germany, Sweden, and Hungary, where translations appeared, it
has attracted no notice to speak of. Not much better fared my--
10. _Moral Pictures from the Orient._
This had already appeared in part in a German periodical, _Westermann's
Monthly_, and was further enlarged with sketches of family life in
Turkey, Persia, and Central Asia, interspersed with personal
observations on the religious and social customs of these people. As far
as I know there are, besides the original German edition, a Danish and a
Hungarian translation of this work, but although much read and
discussed, this book has not been of much, if any, material benefit to
me, beyond the honorarium paid me by the "Society of German literature."
With this book I have really contributed to the knowledge of the Orient
in the regions named just as with my--
11. _Islam in the Nineteenth Century_
I directed the attention of the reading public to those social and
political reforms which our intervention and our reformatory efforts in
the Moslem East have called forth; but practically both the one and the
other were failures. It was not at all my intention to write a sort of
defence of Islam, as was generally imagined, but I endeavoured, on the
contrary, to show up the mistakes, weaknesses and prejudices which
characterised this transition period, indeed I ruthlessly tore away the
veil; but on the other hand I did not hesitate to lay bare our own
neglects and faults. My object was to correct the judgment of Europe in
regard to the Moslem society of Asia, and to point out that with
patience and a little less egotism and greed we should accomplish more;
that we are not yet justified in looking upon Islam as a society
condemned to destruction, and in breaking the staff over it. As a purely
theoretical study, perhaps also on account of my very liberal religious
notions expressed therein, I have not been able to publish this book in
England; hence the circle of readers was very limited, but all the more
select, and I had the satisfaction of having stirred up a very serious
question.
A book which, to my great surprise, had an extraordinary success was my
publication in English of the--
12. _Life and Adventures of Arminius Vambéry, written by Himself_,
which in a very short time passed through seven editions, and was
extraordinarily popular in England, America and Australia. It is in
reality one of my most insignificant, unpretentious literary efforts,
written at the request of my English publisher, and is by no means
worthy of the reception it had. This made me realise the truth of the
proverb: "_Habent sua fata libelli_," for the book is nothing but a
recapitulation of my wanderings, including my experiences in Turkey and
Persia, which were now for the first time brought before the English
public. But what chiefly secured its friendly reception was a few short
paragraphs about my early life, a short _resumé_ of the first chapter of
the present work, and these details from the life of a self-made man did
not fail to produce an impression upon the strongly developed
individuality of the Anglo-Saxon race. I am not sure how many editions
it went through, but I have evident proofs of the strong hold this book
had upon all ranks and classes of English-speaking people. Comments and
discussions there were by the hundred, and private letters expressive of
readers' appreciation kept flowing in to me from the three parts of the
world.
Curiously enough this book excited interest only with the Anglo-Saxons;
to this day it has not been translated in any other foreign language,
not even in my Hungarian mother-tongue. Society in Eastern Europe still
suffers from the old-world delusion that nobility of blood is
everything, and considers that it could not possibly condescend to be
edified by the experiences of a poorly-born man of obscure origin; but
the Anglo-Saxon with his liberal notions revels in the story of the
terrible struggles of the poor Jewish boy, the servant and the teacher,
and of what he finally accomplished. This is the chief reason which made
the most insignificant of my books so popular with the Anglo-Saxons, a
book with which I promulgated more knowledge about Moslem Asia than with
all my other works put together, more even than many highly learned
disquisitions of stock-Orientalists.
I will not deny that the unexpected success of this book was my
principal inducement in writing the present Autobiography.
In my various literary productions I had chiefly aimed at a diffusing of
general knowledge about the Moslem East, but at home (in Hungary) I had
often been reproached with absolute neglect as regards the national
Magyar side of my studies. I therefore decided to publish my views about
the--
13. _Origin of the Magyars_
in a separate volume. In different scientific articles I had already
hinted at the manner in which I intended to treat this still open
question. I pointed out that Árpád and his warriors who, towards the
close of the ninth century founded what is now Hungary, were most
certainly Turkish nomads forming a north-westerly branch of the Turkish
chain of nationalities; that they pushed forward from the Ural, across
the Volga, into Europe, and established in Pannonia what is now the
State of Hungary. The ethnology and the language of the Magyars is a
curious mixture of dialects, for the Turkish nomads during their
wanderings incorporated into their language many kindred Finnish-Ugrian
elements, and in the lowlands of Hungary they came upon many
ethnological remains of the same original stock. All these various
elements gradually amalgamated and formed the people and the language of
Hungary as it is now. Considering this problematic origin, and the
elasticity of philological speculation, it stands to reason that much
has been written and argued in Hungary about the origin of the nation.
Many different views were held, and at the time that I joined in the
discussion, the theory of the Finnish-Ugrian descent of the Magyars held
the upper hand. My labour, therefore, was directed against these, for on
the ground of my personal experiences in the manner of living and the
migrations of the Turkish nomads in general, based upon historical
evidence, I endeavoured to prove the Turkish nationality of Árpád and
his companions. I conceded the mixed character of the language with the
reservation, however, that in the amalgamation not the Finnish-Ugrian
but the Turko-Tartar element predominated. Philologists opposed this
view in their most zealous and ablest representative, Doctor Budenz, a
German by birth; he pleaded with all the enthusiasm of an etymological
philologist for the eminently Ugrian character of the Magyar tongue. The
arguments of the opposing party were chiefly based upon what they
considered the sacred and fundamental rules of comparative philology;
but to me these threw no light upon the matter, and were not likely to
convince me of my error. The struggle, which my fanatical opponents
made into a personal matter, lasted for some time, but the old Latin
proverb: "_Philologi certant, lumen sub judice lis_," again proved true
in this case. The etymological Salto Mortales and the grammatical
violence of the opposing school had rudely shaken my confidence in the
entire apparatus of comparative philology. I realised that with such
evidence one might take any one Ural-Altaic language and call it the
nearest kindred tongue of the Magyar. The etymological connection
between the Tartar words "tongue" and "navel"--because both are long,
hanging objects--and the use of fictitious root-words to explain the
inexplicable, with which my learned opponent tried to justify his
theory, were altogether too fantastic and too airy for my practical
notions. So I gave up the struggle and satisfied myself with the result
that the home-bred Magyars were no longer exclusively considered to be
of Finnish-Ugrian extraction, as used to be the case, and that even my
bitterest opponent had to allow the possibility that Árpád and his
warriors were originally Turks.
The learned world outside naturally took but little part in this
essentially Magyar controversy, and I was, therefore, all the more
pleased to see Ranke, the Nestor of German historical research, siding
with me. He referred to the historical evidence of one Ibn Dasta and
Porphyrogenitus, who had declared that the Magyars overrunning Hungary
at the close of the ninth century were Turks. In Hungary itself the
majority of the public shared my views, and the seven hundred copies of
the first edition of my book were sold in three days.
This, of course, was due more to the national and political than to the
purely scientific interest of the question, since the Magyars, proud of
their Asiatic origin, very much disliked, nay even thought it insulting
that their ancestors should have to claim blood-relationship with poor
barbarians of high northern regions, living by fishing and hunting,
Ostiaks, Vogules, and such like racial fragments. The Hungarian priding
himself on his warlike spirit, his valour, and his independence, would
rather claim relationship with Huns and Avars, depicted by the mediæval
Christian world as terror-spreading, mighty warriors; and the national
legend correctedly accepted this view, for as my further researches
revealed, and as I tried to prove in my subsequent book, entitled--
14. _Growth and Spread of the Magyars_,
the present Magyar nation has proceeded from a gradual, scarcely
definable settlement of Ural-Altaic elements in the lowlands of Hungary.
Originally as warriors and protectors of the Slavs settled in Pannonia,
they became afterwards their lords and masters, something like the
Franks in Gaul and the Varangians in Russia, with this difference,
however, that the latter exchanged their language for that of their
subjects, and became lost among the masses of the subjugated people,
while the Magyars to this day have preserved their language and their
national individuality intact, and in course of time were able to
establish a Magyar ethnography. Looking at it from this point of view,
not Asia but the middle Danube-basin becomes the birthplace of
Magyarism. Its mixed ethnography, formerly known by various
appellations, became through its martial proclivities a terror to the
Christian West, and compelled Charlemagne to bring a strong Christian
coalition against it in the field. This first crusade of the Occident,
bent but did not break the power of the Ural-Altaic warriors, who ruled
from the Moldau as far as the borders of Upper Austria; for the remnants
retiring behind the Theis soon after received reinforcements from a
tribe of Turks known as the "Madjars," _i.e._, Magyars, under the
command of Árpád, whose descendants accepted Christianity and
established the Hungary of the present day, both politically and
ethnically.
Curiously enough this ethnological discussion was not at all agreeable
to my so-called paleo-Magyar compatriots. The romantic legend of the
invasion of Árpád into Pannonia with his many hundred thousand warriors,
sounds more beautiful in the ears of the Magyar patriots, than their
prosaic derivation from a confused ethnical group; as if there were any
single nation in Europe which is not patched and pieced together from
the most diverse elements, and only in later times has presented itself
as an undivided whole. In the Hungarians, however, this childish vanity
is the more ridiculous since it is much more glorious, as a small
national fragment, to play for centuries the _rôle_ of conqueror, and in
the strength of its national proclivities to absorb other elements, than
to conquer with the sword and then to be absorbed in the conquered
element as Franks, Varangians, and others have been. Truly nations, as
well as individuals, have to pass through an infant stage, and I am not
surprised that this conception of mine, and my solution of the
ethnological problem, did not find much favour in Hungary.
Before concluding this review of my scientific-literary activity, I
should mention that I also have ventured into the regions of history, a
totally unknown field to me, wherein, as is the case with many hazardous
expeditions, I betrayed more temerity than forethought. My book on the--
15. _History of Bokhara_,
in two volumes, published in German, Hungarian, English, and Russian,
has done more harm than good to my literary reputation. The motive for
writing this book was the purchase of some Oriental manuscripts I
discovered in Bokhara, which, I thought, were unknown in Europe. To some
extent this was the case, for of _Tarikhi Narshakhi_, and the history of
_Seid Rakim Khan_ both of which furnish rich material for the history of
Central Asia, our Orientalists had never heard. But in the main I was
working under a delusion, owing to my insufficient literary knowledge;
some passages, especially in the ancient history of Central Asia, had
already been worked out by learned scholars, and it was only about
modern times that I could tell anything new.
Professional critics were merciless. They seemed to take a malicious
pleasure in running me down; especially was this the case in Russia,
where I was already hated for my political opinions and activity. The
Oriental historian, Professor Grigorieff, made a special point of
proving the worthlessness of my book, and tried to annihilate the
anti-Russian publishers. The second _criticus furiosus_ was Professor
von Gutschmid, a learned man, but also a nobleman of the purest blood,
who for his God and king entered the arena, and also wanted to wreak his
anger upon me because he took me for a German renegade, and for my
desertion of the bonds of Germanism considered me worthy of censure. For
his well-deserved correction of my scientific blunders I am grateful to
the man, but I deny the accusation of being a renegade. I have never
quite understood why in Germany the honour of German nationality should
be forced upon me; why I should be taken for a Hamburger, a Dresdener, a
Stuttgarter, since my ancestors for several generations were born
Hungarians, and my education had been strictly Magyar.
It is this very Magyar education, and the complete amalgamation of
myself with the ruling national spirit of my native land which induced
me to Magyarise my German name, as has been the custom with us for
centuries. Considering that Germans with purely French, Italian, Danish,
Slav, and other names figure in German literature and politics, without
the purity of their German descent being at all questioned, one might
readily regard the Hungarian custom of Magyarising our names as childish
and unmotived. Yet this is not so. Small nations like Hungary,
constantly threatened with the danger of denationalisation, all the more
anxiously guard their national existence in the sanctity of their
language, and tenaciously hold to their national characteristics. With
such people it is quite natural that they should lay more stress than is
absolutely necessary upon the outward signs. The Hungarian born, who in
his feelings, thoughts, and aspirations, owns himself a true Hungarian,
desires also in name to appear as a Hungarian, because he does not want
to be mixed up with any foreign nationality, as might easily be the case
with a prominent writer. On these grounds Petrovich has become Petöfi,
Schedel Toldy, Hundsdorfer Hunfalvi, etc., and for this reason also I
Magyarised my name.
But to come back to my _History of Bokhara_, I must honestly confess
that the ambition of writing the first history of Transoxania brought me
more disillusionment than joy, for in spite of the praise bestowed upon
me by the uninitiated, I had soon to realise that I had not studied the
subject sufficiently, and had not made enough use of available material.
I fared somewhat better with my second purely historical work, published
simultaneously in America and England--
16. _The Story of Hungary._
In this I had but the one object in view, namely to introduce the
history of my native land into the series called "The Story of the
Nations." As I wrote only a few chapters myself, and am indebted for the
rest to Hungarian men of the profession, I can only lay claim to the
title of editor, but this literary sponsorship gave me much pleasure,
for the _History of Hungary_, which first appeared in English, and was
afterwards translated into different languages, has had a sale it could
never have had in Hungary itself. The service hereby rendered to my
compatriots has, however, never been appreciated at home; the very
existence of the book has been ignored.
This closes the list of my personal publications, partly scientific,
partly popular, in the course of twenty years. Of my journalistic
activity during this same term, I have spoken already (Chap. VIII.).
I cannot hide the fact that as I increased in years my creative power
visibly decreased. What I learned in the sixties, or rather tried to
learn, did not long remain in my memory, and could not be called
material from which anything of lasting value could be made. Only the
custom of many years' active employment urged me on to labour, and under
the influence of this incitement appeared my smaller works.
1. _The Travels and Adventures of the Turkish Admiral Sidi Ali
Reis, in India, Afghanistan, Central Asia, and Persia, during the
years 1553-1556._ London, 1899.
2. _Noten Zu den Alttürkischen Inschriften der Mongolei und
Siberiens._ Helsingfors, 1899. (Notes to the Old Turkish
Inscriptions of Mongolia and Siberia.)
3. _Alt-Osmanische Sprachstudien._ Leiden, 1901. (Old Osmanli
Linguistic Studies.)
It never entered my mind to try to attract the special attention of the
profession with these unassuming contributions. It is not given to all,
as to a Mommsen, Herbert Spencer, Ranke, Schott, and others, to boast of
unenfeebled mental powers in their old age. _Sunt atque fines!_ And he
who disregards the approach of the winter of life is apt to lose the
good reputation gained in better days.
APPENDIX III
MY RELATIONS WITH THE MOHAMMEDAN WORLD
I will here shortly relate in what manner I became connected with the
Mohammedans of India. My own depressing circumstances at the time of my
sojourn in Asia had given me a fellow-feeling with the downtrodden,
helpless population of the East, and the more I realised the weakness of
Asiatic rule and government, the more I was compelled to draw angry
comparisons between the condition of things there and in Western lands.
Since then my judgment of human nature has become enlarged, and
consequently more charitable, but at the time I am speaking of, the more
intimately I became acquainted with the conditions of the various
countries of Europe the more clearly I seemed to see the causes of the
decline in the East. Our exalted Western professions of righteousness
and justice after all did not amount to much. Christianity seemed as
fanatical as Islam itself, and before very long I came to the conclusion
that our high-sounding efforts at civilisation in the East were but a
cloak for material aggression and a pretext for conquest and gain. All
this roused my indignation and enlisted my sympathies with the peoples
of the Islamic world. My heart went out in pity towards the helpless
victims of Asiatic tyranny, despotism, and anarchy, and when an
occasional cry was raised in some Turkish, Persian or Arabic publication
for freedom, law and order, the call appealed to me strongly and I felt
compelled to render what assistance I could. This was the beginning of
my pro-Islamic literary activity, and as a first result I would mention
my work on _Islam in the Nineteenth Century_, followed by several short
articles. Later I proceeded from writing to public speaking, and I
delivered lectures in various parts of England, a specimen of which was
my lecture in Exeter Hall, in May, 1889, when I took for my subject
"The Progress of Culture in Turkey." The fame of these lectures
resounded not only in Turkey but also among the Moslems of South Russia,
Java, Africa and India; for the day of objective unbiassed criticism of
Islam was gradually passing away. In India the free institutions of the
English had awakened among the Mohammedan population also an interest in
the weal or woe of their religious communities. In Calcutta the
"Mohammedan Literary Society," under the presidency of the learned Nawab
Abdul Latif Bahadur, was already making itself prominent, and shortly
after my lecture at Exeter Hall, I received an account of the history of
the Society, and its president, in a warmly worded letter accompanying
it, expressed his thanks for my friendly interest in the affairs of
Islam. I made use of this opportunity to address a letter to the
Mohammedans of India, explaining the grounds for my Moslem sympathies,
encouraging the Hindustani to persevere in the adopted course of modern
culture, and by all means to hold fast to the English Government, the
only free and humane power of the West. This letter ran as follows:--
"BUDAPEST UNIVERSITY,
"_August, 12, 1889_.
"MY DEAR NAWAB,--I beg to acknowledge with many, many thanks the
receipt of the valuable and highly interesting pamphlets you so
kindly sent me, on the rise, growth and activity of the Mohammedan
Literary Society of Calcutta. Being deeply interested in the
welfare and cultural development of the Mohammedan world, I have
long watched with the greatest attention the progress of the
Society created and so admirably presided over by yourself. I need
scarcely say that I much appreciate the opportunity now afforded me
of entering into personal relations with a man of your abilities,
patriotism, and sincere devotion to your fellow countrymen.
"The greater part of my life has been devoted to the study of
Mohammedan nations and countries, and I feel the keenest interest
in the work of the Calcutta Literary Society of Mohammedans, which
proves most eloquently that a nation whose sacred book contains the
saying, 'Search for wisdom from the cradle to the grave,' will not
and cannot lag behind in culture, and that Islam still has it in
its power to revive the glory of the middle ages, when the
followers of the Koran were the torchbearers of civilisation.
"From a political point of view, also, I must congratulate you on
what you have done in showing your co-religionists the superiority
of Western culture as seen in the English administration, in
contrast to the dim or false light shed abroad from elsewhere. I am
not an Englishman, and I do not ignore the shortcomings and
mistakes of English rule in India, but I have seen much of the
world both in Europe and Asia, and studied the matter carefully,
and I can assure you that England is far in advance of the rest of
Europe in point of justice, liberality, and fair-dealing with all
entrusted to her care.
"You and your fellow-workers among the Indian Mohammedans, the
successors of Khalid, may justly pride yourselves on having
introduced Monotheism into India; it is your privilege and your
duty by advice and example to lead the people of Hindustan to
choose suitable means for modernising your matchless but antiquated
culture. Would that Turkey, which is fairly advanced in modern
science, could become the instructor and civiliser of the
Mohammedan world; but Turkey, alas, is surrounded by enemies and
weakened by continual warfare. She has to struggle hard for her own
existence and has no chance of attending to her distant
co-religionists, much to the grief of her noble and patriotic ruler
whom I am proud to call my friend.
"In default of a Moslem leader you have done well to adopt English
tutorship in India, and you who are at the head of this movement
are certainly rendering good service both to your people and to
your faith by encouraging your fellow-believers to follow in the
path of Western culture and education. I have not yet quite given
up the idea of visiting India, and, circumstances permitting, of
delivering some lectures in the Persian tongue to the Mohammedans
of India. If I should see my way to doing so, I should like to come
under the patronage of your Society, and thus try to contribute a
few small stones to the noble building raised by your admirable
efforts.
"Pardon the length of this epistle, which I conclude in the hope of
the continuance of our correspondence, and I also beg you kindly
to forward to me regularly the publications of your Society.
"Yours faithfully,
"(_Sig._) A. VAMBÉRY.
"To Nawab Abdul Latif Bahadur, C.I.E., Calcutta."
I had no idea that this letter would cause any sensation, and I was much
surprised to see it published shortly after as a separate pamphlet, with
an elaborate preface, and distributed wholesale among the Mohammedans of
India. "The leading political event of India"--thus commenced the
preface--"is a letter, but not an official or even an open letter. We
are not referring to the address of the Viceroy in _propria persona_--as
distinguished from the powerful state engine entitled the
'Governor-General in Council'--to the Maharaja Pertap Singh of Cashmere,
for this letter has now been before the public some weeks. The letter we
call attention to does not come from high quarters, is not in any way an
official one; it is a private communication from a poor, though eminent
European pandit (scholar). It was published yesterday in the morning
papers and appears in this week's edition of _Reis and Rayyet_. We refer
to Professor Vambéry's letter to Nawab Abdul Latif Bahadur, &c."
The Indian press occupied itself for days with this letter; it was much
commented upon and regarded both by Englishmen and Mohammedans as of
great importance. I was invited to visit India as the guest of the
Mohammedan Society. I was to be attended by a specially appointed
committee, and to make a tour in the country, give public lectures and
addresses, and be generally _fêted_. In a word, they wanted to honour me
as the friend of England and of Islam. Nawab Abdul Latif Bahadur said in
a letter dated Calcutta, 16 Toltollah (12th August), 1890:--
"Your name has become a household word amongst us, and, greatly as we
honour you for your noble, unflinching advocacy of Islam in the West, we
shall esteem it a high privilege to see you with our own eyes, and
listen to you with our own ears."
Remembering the struggles of my early youth, and with a vivid
recollection of the insults and humiliations to which I, the Jew boy,
had been subjected in those days, there was something very tempting to
me in the thought of going to India, the land of the Rajahs, of wealth
and opulence, as an admired and honoured guest. But I was no longer
young. I was nearly sixty years old, and at that age sober reality is
stronger than vanity. The alluring vision of a reception in India, with
eulogies and laurel-wreaths swiftly passed before my eyes, but was
instantly dismissed. I declined the invitation with many expressions of
gratitude, but kept up my relations with the Mohammedans of India, and
also with the Brahmans there, as shown in my correspondence with the
highly-cultured editor of the periodical _Reis and Rayyet_, Dr.
Mookerjee,[3] with Thakore Sahib (Prince) of Gondal, and other eminent
Hindustani scholars and statesmen.
The fact that many of these gentlemen preferably wrote in English, and
that some of them even indulged in Latin and Greek quotations, surprised
me much at first, for I had not realised that our Western culture had
penetrated so far even beyond the precincts of Islam. England has indeed
done great things for India, and Bismarck was right when he said, "If
England were to lose Shakespeare, Milton, and all her literary heroes,
that what she has done for India is sufficient to establish for ever her
merit in the world of culture."
My pro-Islamic writings have found much appreciation among the Turkish
adherents of the Moslem faith, and my name was well known in Turkey, as
I had for many years been writing for the Turkish press, and was in
correspondence with several eminent persons there. In consequence of my
anti-Russian political writings I had constant intercourse with Tartars
from the Crimea and other parts of Russia, who even consulted me in
their national and religious difficulties. Some of them asked me for
introductions to the Turkish Government, and touching was the sympathy I
received from the farthest corners of the Islamic world when once I was
confined to bed with a broken leg. Mohammedans from all parts, Osmanlis,
Tartars, Persians, Afghans, Hindustanis, in passing through Budapest,
scarcely ever failed to call upon me, and to express their gratitude
for what little I had done in their interest. Some even suspected me of
being a Dervish in disguise, and of using my European incognito in the
interests of Islam. This supposition was, I think, mainly due to the
stories circulated by some Dervish pilgrims, from all parts of the
Islamic world, to the grave of Gülbaba (Rose-father), at Budapest, to
whom, as the living reminders of my former adventures, I always gave a
most cordial reception.
The Mohammedan saint just mentioned, according to the account of the
Osmanli traveller Ewlia Tshelebi (1660), had lived in Hungary before the
Turkish dominion, and was buried at Budapest. Soliman's army had revered
his grave just as Mohamed II. did that of Ejub in Constantinople after
the conquest, and it is touching to note the deep veneration with which
this pioneer of Islam is regarded by all true believers in the old
world. Turks, Arabs, Persians, Afghans, Indians, Kashmirians, even
Tartars from Tobolsk have come to Budapest as pilgrims to his grave, and
yet the actual tenets of his faith have never been very clearly defined.
At the Peace of Passarowitz the Osmanli stipulated that his grave should
be left untouched, and on the other hand the Persian King, Nasreddin
Shah, claimed him as a Shiite saint, and even made preparations to
restore and embellish his grave.
The Dervish pilgrims regarded this Rose-father with very special
devotion. Without money, without any knowledge of the language of the
country, they braved all dangers and privations to visit his grave. Some
said that he was brother to Kadriye, others that he belonged to the
Dshelali order. After spending some days at the humble shrine of the
saint, since then beautifully restored, they would come to pay their
respects to me also, and I was pleased to receive them. Nothing could be
more entertaining than to watch the suspicious glances cast upon me by
these tattered, emaciated Moslems. My fluency of speech in their several
languages, added to the fame of my character as a Dervish, puzzled them
greatly, and, encouraged by my cordiality, some made bold to ask me how
much longer I intended to keep up my incognito among the unfaithful, and
whether it would not be advisable for me to return to the land of the
true believers. In reply I pointed to the life and the work of Sheikh
Saadi, the celebrated author of the _Gulistan_ who, himself a Dervish,
lived in various lands amid various religions in order to study mankind,
and who left behind him a world-known name. Among these dervishes,
although possessed of all the peculiarities and attributes of
fanaticism, I detected a good deal of scepticism and cosmopolitanism,
carefully hidden, of course, but to my mind fully justifying the
proverb: "_Qui multum peregrinatur raro santificatur_" ("He who travels
much, rarely becomes a saint"). These pilgrims, many of whom in their
inmost mind shared my views, carried my name into the remotest regions
of the Islamic world. The travelling dervishes may be called the living
telegraph wires between the upper and lower strata of the Mohammedan
world. From the Tekkes (convents) and bazaars, where they mix with
people of every class and nationality, the news they bring travels far
and wide, and reaches the inmost circles of family life. And so it came
about that many years later I was receiving letters from several
Asiatics never personally known to me. Through these relations with the
middle classes of the Moslem world I afterwards came in contact with the
higher ranks of Asiatic society.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] See "_An Indian Journalist_," being the Life and Letters of
Dr. S. O. Mookerjee, Calcutta, 1895, pp. 306-315.
UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.