with rules. It is maintained with more complacency, and relinquished,
not without hope of renewal. We too have now indeed abandoned a part
of its more inconvenient formalities; but some of its oppressive
and despotic laws continue unaltered. The exterior may be changed;
but the substance is identical.
In the East, they who are guilty of excess in drinking bury
their inebriation in the gloom of their closet. By this, present
disturbance, and future ill example are equally obviated, whatever
may be the ill consequence to the wretched victim of intemperance. Of
excess in eating there are few examples; for their longest meals,
even when a series of dishes is presented, as at the tables of a
Pasha or a Bey, are terminated in a few minutes. The moderation
and temperance of diet indeed throughout the East are matters of
high praise; and, whether virtues of climate, habit, or reflection,
merit imitation among ourselves. The reward is present, uninterrupted
health and tranquillity of mind.
If the multitude of wants constitute human inquietude, it must be
remembered how much of what to us is indispensable is, to them,
as if it had never been.
With them society is rendered tranquil and easy by mutual forbearance;
with us it is vexed with the necessity of mutual adulation.—In the
one region each man sets a fashion to himself, in the other all the
constituent parts are wearied with serving an idol that the collective
body alone has set up. Each stands bareheaded from respect to the
other, when both might remain covered without inconvenience to either.
Politeness is, with the one, an easy compliance, with which all are
satisfied; with the other, it is a difficult effort, from the practice
and the experience of which the parties mutually retire discontented.
The fashions to which we are slaves, are indeed many of them so little
founded in reason, that one is sometimes disposed to consider them
as imagined by the indolent and restless, to occupy the thoughts and
time of those who have no better employment; or invented, like certain
dogmas, to shew the merit of implicit credence. A certain dress is
to be worn, a certain establishment kept up, under pain of indelible
ignominy; and the man whose circumstances disable him from complying
with this terrific mandate, with timid irresolution hides his head.
See the European in conversation, even among his equals, he is not
so solicitous to express such thoughts as rise in his mind, as to
find some employment for his tongue. It is not to give utterance
to what naturally occurs, but that conversation may be _kept up_,
that all are anxious. Garrulities, and misconceptions are civilly
uttered for arguments; and the abortions of fancy and caprice, hold
the place of the sane offspring of judgment and reflection. Yet we
laugh at them for using short and few phrases, (_phrases courtes et
rares_, as Volney describes them,) when they have nothing to say!
It is with them however neither ridiculous nor irksome to be
silent. They go into company to be diverted, not to labour, and they
esteem effort in conversation a vain toil. The raillery and repartee
of the Occidentals is, among them, supplied (it must be allowed very
inadequately) by the _Meddahs_, story-tellers, and professed jokers.
Human life in the East is exposed to a variety of casualties.
Pestilence, famine, tyranny, all conspire to diminish its security. It
is natural to set a smaller value on any advantage, in proportion to the
facility of privation. Hence the Orientals are not much disturbed at the
thoughts of death, but resign life without a sigh. The mind is tortured
when the blossoms of hope are suddenly torn from it; but their gradual
decay is not incompatible with a kind of tranquillity.
The European, more dissatisfied with the present, and only supported
by the hope of what is to come, attached beyond measure to the
advantages which his anxieties have been prolonged to acquire, has
already, even at an early age, fixed to himself a period, short of
which he thinks it _hard and unjust_ to be deprived of life.
Concerning past events the fatalist is consoled by reflecting, that
nothing he could have done would have altered the immutable order
of things, and that his efforts before would have been as vain as
his regret now is. This idea, indeed, is perhaps not destitute of
ill effects, but it surely produces some good. If, by persuading them
that the evils which they suffer are unavoidable, it prevent them from
endeavouring to avoid them, it also prevents their repining at what
must at all events be endured as the immutable law of the universe.
The European attributing more power to volition, ascribes to his
own want of judgment or energy the result of whatever terminates
unfavourably. Thus a part of his life is occupied by self-accusation,
which, however, ensures no amelioration for the future.
In the East, if age be respected, it is respected, in part at least,
from the decorous behaviour of the aged. In Europe, if it be rendered
ridiculous, it is so too often, by a vain effort to perpetuate the
character and manners of youth.
The commanding influence of a system so flattering to the pride
of its professors, and operating so powerfully on their hopes and
fears as Mohammedism, aided by the dread of present suffering, has
so far counteracted the strong impulse of avarice, that _gaming_
is in a great degree banished from society in the East. All the
evils and inconveniences therefore of that practice, so severely
felt throughout Europe, are almost unknown in the Turkish empire.
If activity and a careful provision for the future, and that each
should contribute his efforts to the good of the whole, be necessary
to constitute the happiness of a people, how happens it that the
Orientals, among whom these requisites are wanting, should yet
be happy?
The system of morals contained in the writings of the Orientals,
is at once sublime without being impracticable, and levelled to the
use of mankind, without being loose or low. Yet it is usual with us
to talk of their brutal stupidity! But this system is not practised
among them—and is the Christian system of morals practised among
Christian nations?
The Arabian and Persian histories and romances abound with traits of
magnanimity, of generosity, justice, and courage, no way inferior to,
but in some instances exceeding those of other nations. The Greeks and
ourselves have indeed stigmatised them with the name of barbarians;
but impartial inquiry proves that they are susceptible of all that
is admired in a polished people; that crimes are treated among
them as among other nations, and that though their passions may be
expressed in a different way, they have always the same source and
the same object.
No man who reflects on his past enjoyments and sufferings can doubt
but that the latter, by their intenseness, duration, and frequency,
have been decidedly predominant.
To render them more equal, that is, to be less miserable, or to make
life tolerable, either the number of pleasures must be augmented,
according to the system of the Epicureans, or that of pains must be
diminished, according to that of the Stoics. The Orientals strive
to attain the one object like ourselves, by sensuality; and here
it is not to be conceived that they are happier than we are; but
the other they gain in a much more complete degree than ourselves,
and are much more exercised in the stoical system, which seems the
most effectual to the purpose.
The passions, indeed, it is said, are to the mind what motion is
to the body; and the absence of either causes and marks, in each
respectively, symptoms that may be termed morbid.
A perfect absence of passion is certainly preternatural, if it may
not be called impossible; but as our passions are more likely to
be called into action by painful than by pleasurable sensations,
it seems little doubtful, that the mind, on which they operate most
feebly, will remain in the most tranquil state. This tranquillity,
this absence of pain, (for joy, however poignant, is but a transient
gleam, a coruscation, which passing, renders the obscurity which
succeeds it more sensible,) is the single species of happiness of
which mankind is allowed to partake.
A man of great sensibility has his feelings hourly wounded by minute
accidents, at which one of less lively sensations would smile.
Such a one is transported with love, and, if that love be
successful, his gratification is exquisite. He is suddenly moved
by compassion,—how refined his feeling in offering relief to
distress! He ardently desires fame,—how is he elated with the
slightest praises! But how often is his warm affection requited with
neglect, or its gratification found impossible? How often will his
compassion be excited, without the means of affording relief? And
how much more is mankind disposed to obloquy than to eulogy?
But this is not all; the same mind which is strongly acted on by
these passions will also have its peace disturbed by pride, ambition,
anger, jealousy, and resentment. The subjects of all these tormenting
emotions crowd on it too closely to allow its complacency to be
permanent. The sunshine of the morning will inevitably, ere night,
be succeeded by a tempest.
Some slight omission of ceremonial will offend its pride, some
_sordid repulse_ will check its ambition; it will flame with anger
at the breaking of a jar, or pine with jealousy at the like frailty
in a mistress.
Something of the same kind has place with regard to taste. A man
of delicate taste feels refined enjoyment from the contemplation
of a beautiful landscape or a fine picture, or the perusal of an
elegant poem; and is equally disgusted at the sight of any thing
deformed, disproportioned, or unnatural in either. But, it may be
said, he has the option of contemplating a disagreeable object, but
not of feeling an unpleasing sensation. And is it indeed so easy,
in being perpetually conversant among mankind, to avoid observing
their works? or does not the man who reads unavoidably fall on
absurdities which disgust him? Social man has been too long employed
in counteracting nature, not to have moulded all to his dwarfish
intellect; and the abortive efforts of imagination are numberless
both in the arts and in letters.
Then it will be said, human happiness is reduced to apathy;
and the lively taste and ardent passions, which have established
the superiority of Europeans, only serve to diminish their sum of
felicity! This would be pushing the argument too far; but each will
draw his own conclusions.
The chief points of contrast between the Europeans and Orientals
being thus marked, it will be seen how far it may be doubted on
which side lies the greater degree of happiness.
=APPENDIX.=
* * * * *
=No. I.=
_Illustrations of the Maps._
In compiling the two maps which accompany this work, the writer has
made use of his own observations in that part of it to which those
observations had extended. For the remainder of the information
exhibited in each, he has trusted to the report of the more
intelligent natives, who having frequently traversed the neighbouring
countries, might be supposed in some measure qualified to describe
what they had seen. Yet he has not ventured to lay down a single
position which had not previously been confirmed by the distinct and
concordant testimony of at least three or four individuals. Even with
this castigation, it is unnecessary to remark how impracticable is
the task of approximating the bearings, from the oral testimony of
those who have no clear idea of bearings, and scarcely know how to
distinguish the eight principal points. Almost equally difficult is
it to give the face of a country, or an account of its productions,
which the informant perhaps traversed between sleep and waking,
or when too much occupied with the sufferings of the road, or the
end he had in view, to be at leisure to attend to its detail.
The names of places so obtained and positions so adjusted, it has
been thought proper to distinguish by dotted letters, with a view
to denote hesitation and uncertainty. The part with which he was
himself more particularly acquainted, or which was sufficiently
supported by the authority of former maps, is marked with ordinary
letters. The writer’s own route is pointed out by a green line,
the reported routes by a single engraved line, without colour.
The loss already mentioned of a large portion of his detached papers,
has effectually deprived him of the power of presenting the chart
of the route with all that exactness and minute detail which ought
invariably to accompany all geographical researches. But if he have
been compelled to use the _result_ of his celestial observations,
which alone his journal furnished, without the recapitulation
of particulars, he has been careful to compare them with the
bearings which fortunately were most of them preserved, without
venturing to force the latter to the former: _e.g._ the result of
his observation, as he found it briefly noted, would have brought
_Charjé_ and _Mughes_ several miles farther East; but having found
the distance and bearings exactly accord with this position with
respect to _Assiût_, he has preferred it to the attempt of fixing
the position of those places, by observation of which he was unable
to give adequate proof of the accuracy.
The position of _Assiût_ is fixed, both in latitude and longitude,
by observation. That of _Charjé_ in latitude by observation; in
longitude, as above described. While at _Sheb_, the Writer had an
opportunity of observing his position at leisure, both in latitude
and longitude. At _Selimé_ he enjoyed the same satisfaction. The
mountains, to the East of the road, are laid down according to their
appearance to the eye of the observer from the villages of _Elwah_,
and the route of the caravan beyond them. Their S.E. extremity, as
here marked, rests solely on the report of a native of _Mahas_. The
distance from _Selimé_ to the river, has been judged fully
established by the uniform and unvarying testimony of a number of
Jelabs of _Dongola_, &c. who travel that route.
The latitude of _Leghéa_ was variously observed, both in going and
returning. Its longitude is only determined by the bearing of the
road, relatively to _Bîr-el-Malha_ S. and _Selimé_ N. Several days
consumed at _Bîr-el-Malha_, afforded the means of determining its
position both in latitude and longitude.
_Sweini_ and _Zeghawa_ have been placed only according to the
bearing and distance computed from _Cobbé_ and _Le Haimer_. But
the two latter places are fixed without much doubt by frequent lunar
observations, the occultations of Jupiter’s satellites, &c.
With regard to _Cubcabéa_ and _Rîl_, no more could be done than
to place them according to the uniform and constant report of the
natives. They are both places much frequented, and in so small a
distance no mistake of importance can have arisen.
The bearings of the road from _Cubcabéa_ to _Wara_, and thence to the
capital of _Bornou_, are not laid down but from numerous inquiries,
and some labour employed in adjusting them. That road occupies
sixty days. The position of the capital of Bornou varies from that
which is allotted to it in the latest maps, but scrupulously adheres
to the bearings and distance given. _Abu-Shareb_ is from _Cobbé_
nearly W. by N. _Abu-Shareb_ to _Wara_, N.W. by N. From _Wara_ to the
capital of _Baghermi_, between W.N.W. and N.W. by W. Road winding
S. From _Baghermi_ to _Kottocomb_, N. by W. 2 W. From _Kottocomb_
to _Bornou_ nearly in the same direction.
_Sennaar_, as well as the course of the Nile, the coast of the Arabian
gulf, _Masouah_, _Gondar_, _Swakem_, &c. have the same position as in M.
Rennell’s map. _Sennaar_ is in longitude 33° 30′ 30″. _Cobbé_ being in
28° 8′, the difference between them will be 5° 2′ 30″—_Rîl_ cannot be
more than twelve or thirteen miles E. of _Cobbé_, but _Rîl_ is only
twenty-three days journey from _Sennaar_. There remain therefore on a
direct line 4° 50′ which is about twelve and a half geometrical miles
_per_ day; and admitting the smallest possible deviation, will give
fourteen miles by the road. This on so long a journey is much more than
might be expected, and by no means accords with the route to _Bornou_,
which allows only about nine miles for each day’s march.—D’Anville’s
position of _Sennaar_ (29° 39′) would bring it too near to _Rîl_,
leaving only eighty miles between them, or three miles and quarter _per_
day. Whether the truth lie between the observation of Mr. Bruce and the
conjecture of D’Anville, or whether the former be well established, and
the length of each day’s march may be accounted for from the straitness
and facility of the road, some future occasion must determine. One
circumstance would seem clear, viz. the distance between the _city
Sennaar_, and the _Bahr-el-abiad_, which the repeated and unvaried
testimonies of the natives relatively to the interval of three, or three
and half days, leave no room to doubt, have hitherto been placed much
too far apart.
The road from _Wara_ to _Dar Kulla_ exhibits a remarkable coincidence
as to the number of rivers and lakes which it passes, with that part
of Major Rennell’s last general map of Northern Africa, which forms
what he considers as the alluvies of that portion of the continent,
though it be neither in the same latitude nor longitude.
Of these various streams little description was obtained. The
country they flow through is said to be great part of the year wet
and marshy; the heat is excessive, and the people remark that there
is no winter. The course of the rivers, if rightly given, is for
the most part from E. to W.
The river called _Bahr Misselad_ is said to be a considerable
one. It’s source is not described, but appears to be not far distant
from the supposed site of the copper mines. Those who frequent this
road, ordinarily pass two years from the time of leaving _Wara_
till their return to that place, or _Cobbé_. Of the time actually
employed in the route they differ in their report, but it may be
estimated at from 150 to 180 days; at a medium 165. _Wangara_ I have
never heard mentioned. Whether it may be the same country with some
one of those described is uncertain; but its production being gold,
does not accord with any of them; that commodity not being, as far
as was related to me, found in any quantity to the W. _Zamphara_ is
yet known to several of my informers, as a country near to _Bornou_;
but no particular description was given.
The dotted lines which are seen in the general map, and seem to
mark with too much precision the extent of the empires _Bergoo_,
_Baghermi_, and _Kordofân_, are chiefly designed to shew the relative
situation of those districts, and how they border on each other, or
on Fûr. The authority recurred to was only that of the inhabitants
of each country, who affirmed that their native empire extended so
many days from E. to W. and so many from N. to S. For the general
form of _Dar-Fûr_ the authority is somewhat stronger; the precise
termination of that empire being accurately known to the several
reporters in each principal direction.
The writer, during his stay in Dar-Fûr, could never find the
variation of the needle greater than sixteen degrees W. In what
relates to that country, therefore, he has been guided by that
quantity of variation.
=No. II.=
=ITINERARIES.=
* * * * *
_From Cobbé to Sennaar._
Bearing. Days.
From Cobbé to Shawer 1½
From Shawer to Rîl S.S.E. 2
At Rîl is a large pool of water, never completely dry,
and a little to the E. of it a spacious house built by
Sultan Teraub, eldest brother of the present
Monarch.
From Rîl to Fadow } { 3
} E. {
From Fadow to Cawb } { 3
Near Cawb commences a ridge of hills, running N. and
S. or nearly so.
From Cawb to Dar Hummâr } { 2
} {
From Dar Hummâr to Emdî } Mean bearing E. { 3
} {
From Emdî to Kreiga } { 0¼
In each of these towns are Fukkara, who administer
justice.
From Kreiga to Ibeit[64] E. 1
Between Kreiga and Ibeit is Abu-Harrâs, a place
distant from the former three hours. Its neighbourhood
is laid out in gardens belonging to the people of
Dongola established there, in which they cultivate
onions, &c. The situation of Abu-Harrâs is in length
N. and S. and the wells which supply it with water are
to the S. of the town.
From Ibeit to Miteina 0½
From Miteina to Autosh 2
From Autosh to Yassîn 0½
Yassîn is a town of Fukkara.
From Yassîn to Breissa, _deep sand_ 0½
From Breissa to Cone 1
Cone is at the foot of a mountain of the same name,
which lies S. of the road. Near Cone, a little S. of
the road, is a pool of water, and this is a place
where travellers commonly repose
themselves.
From Cone to Kinnana 1
From Kinnana to Deggîn 1
From Deggîn to Hellet Allais[65], on the
Bahr-el-abiad, the place which the ferry-boats
frequent. 1
Hellet Allais is situated on the W. of the river. The
river (Bahr-el-abiad) is here of such breadth, that
the features of a person standing on the other side
cannot be distinguished, but the human voice is
heard.—A number of trees is seen here to the W. of the
river, not to the E. Hellet Allais is altogether built
of clay.—A large palm tree grows in the middle of the
town.
On the eastern side of the river is _Shillûk_—not far
removed from it, being reported to be within sight of
Allais.
Shillûk is a town of idolaters, built with clay. The
inhabitants have no other clothing than bands of long
grass, which they pass round the waist and between the
thighs. They are all black; both sexes are accustomed
to shave their heads. The people of Shillûk have the
dominion of the river, and take toll of all
passengers, in such articles of traffic as pass among
them. The name _Shillûk_ is not Arabic, and its
meaning is unknown.—When asked concerning their name
or country, the people reply _Shillûk_. When employed
in transporting Mohammedans across the ferry, they
occasionally exhibit the importance which their
situation gives them. After the Mûslim has placed
himself in the boat, they will ask him, “Who is the
master of that river?” The other replies, as is usual,
“Ullah or Rubbani”—God is the master of it. “No,”
answers the Shillûk, “you must say that such a one
(naming his chief) is the master of it, or you shall
not pass.” They are represented as shewing hospitality
to such as come among them in a peaceable manner, and
as never betraying those to whom they have once
accorded protection. The particulars of their worship,
as in most other instances where I have had my
information from Mohammedans, have not been described.
From Shillûk to Dar Ruga E. ¼N. 1
From Dar Ruga to Waalia E. 1
From Waalia to Shadli E. 1
From Shadli to Sennaar 0¼
Sennaar, _Medinet el Fūn̄_ or _Fungi_, is situated on
the river which flows from Habbesh, which river is
much smaller than the _Bahr-el-abiad_, and before the
annual increase is fordable between Sennaar and
Basboch.
The slaves who have usurped the government reside in
_Terfeia_, on the opposite side of the river. Between
them and the people of the city have been perpetual
skirmishes for the last six years. (1794).
The Bahr-el-abiad suffers the same periodical increase
and diminution as the Nile in Egypt.
_From Sennaar to Gondâr._
From Terfeia to Rhad E.N.E. 1
From Rhad to Dender E. 1
From Dender to Béla S.E. 1
From Béla to Teawa 1
Rhad is on the banks of a river of the same name.
After passing Béla, the traveller leaves the river,
and proceeds by a mountainous road to Teawa. The soil
in the neighbourhood of Teawa is clay, and the town is
built of that material. The people of the place use
for bread the Mahriek, (white maize,) which grows
there luxuriantly.
From Teawa to Râs el fîl S.E. 1¼
From Râs el fîl to Gondâr E.S.E. 7
The officer who governs Râs el fîl is appointed by the
king of Habbesh.—Inhabitants of Râs el fîl called
_Giberti_.
_Road from Sennaar to Swakem._
From Sennaar to Teawa 4
From Teawa to Atbara, a town on that river E. 1
From Atbara to Hallanga N. 2
The people of Hallanga are Mohammedans, but use not
the Arabic language generally. They are of an olive
complexion. The _Mahriek_ in their neighbourhood is
said to grow so large, that the stem at bottom is seen
of the size of a man’s wrist.
From Hallanga to Swakem N.E. 12