[29]Photius, p. 387.
There was as little affectation of sanctity in hisdress or living as there was effort in his eloquence.{5}In his youth he had been one of the most austereof men; at the age of twenty-one, renouncingbright prospects of the world, he had devotedhimself to prayer and study of the Scriptures.He had retired to the mountains near Antioch,{10}his native place, and had lived among the monks.This had been his home for six years, and he hadchosen it in order to subdue the daintiness of hisnatural appetite. "Lately," he wrote to a friendat the time,—"lately, when I had made up my{15}mind to leave the city and betake myself to thetabernacle of the monks, I was foreverinquiring and busying myself how I was to get asupply of provisions; whether it would be possibleto procure fresh bread for my eating, whether{20}I should be ordered to use the same oil for mylamp and for my food, to undergo the hardshipof peas and beans, or of severe toil, such asdigging, carrying wood or water, and the like; ina word, I made much account of bodily comfort."[30]{25}Such was the nervous anxiety and fidget of mindwith which he had begun: but this roughdiscipline soon effected its object, and at length, evenby preference, he took upon him mortificationswhich at first were a trouble to him. For the{30}last two years of his monastic exercise, he livedby himself in a cave; he slept, when he did sleep,without lying down; he exposed himself to theextremities of cold. At length he found he waspassing the bounds of discretion, nature would{5}bear no more; he fell ill, and returned to thecity.
There was as little affectation of sanctity in hisdress or living as there was effort in his eloquence.{5}In his youth he had been one of the most austereof men; at the age of twenty-one, renouncingbright prospects of the world, he had devotedhimself to prayer and study of the Scriptures.He had retired to the mountains near Antioch,{10}his native place, and had lived among the monks.This had been his home for six years, and he hadchosen it in order to subdue the daintiness of hisnatural appetite. "Lately," he wrote to a friendat the time,—"lately, when I had made up my{15}mind to leave the city and betake myself to thetabernacle of the monks, I was foreverinquiring and busying myself how I was to get asupply of provisions; whether it would be possibleto procure fresh bread for my eating, whether{20}I should be ordered to use the same oil for mylamp and for my food, to undergo the hardshipof peas and beans, or of severe toil, such asdigging, carrying wood or water, and the like; ina word, I made much account of bodily comfort."[30]{25}Such was the nervous anxiety and fidget of mindwith which he had begun: but this roughdiscipline soon effected its object, and at length, evenby preference, he took upon him mortificationswhich at first were a trouble to him. For the{30}last two years of his monastic exercise, he livedby himself in a cave; he slept, when he did sleep,without lying down; he exposed himself to theextremities of cold. At length he found he waspassing the bounds of discretion, nature would{5}bear no more; he fell ill, and returned to thecity.
[30]Ad Demetrium, i. 6.
A course of ascetic practice such as this wouldleave its spiritual effects upon him for life. Itsank deep into him, though the surface might{10}not show it. His duty at Constantinople was tomix with the world; and he lived as others,except as regards such restraints as his sacredoffice and archiepiscopal station demanded ofhim. He wore shoes, and an under garment;{15}but his stomach was ever delicate, and at mealshe was obliged to have his own dish, such as itwas, to himself. However, he mixed freely withall ranks of men; and he made friends,affectionate friends, of young and old, men and women,{20}rich and poor, by condescending to all of everydegree. How he was loved at Antioch, is shownby the expedient used to transfer him thence toConstantinople. Asterius, count of the East, hadorders to send for him, and ask his company to a{25}church without the city. Having got him intohis carriage, he drove off with him to the firststation on the highroad to Constantinople, whereimperial officers were in readiness to convey himthither. Thus he was brought upon the scene of{30}those trials which have given him a name in history,and a place in the catalogue of the Saints.At the imperial city he was as much followed, ifnot as popular, as at Antioch. "The peopleflocked to him," says Sozomen, "as often as hepreached; some of them to hear what would{5}profit them, others to make trial of him. Hecarried them away, one and all, and persuadedthem to think as he did about the Divine Nature.They hung upon his words, and could not haveenough of them; so that, when they thrust and{10}jammed themselves together in an alarming way,every one making an effort to get nearer to him,and to hear him more perfectly, he took his seatin the midst of them, and taught from the pulpitof the Reader."[31]He was, indeed, a man to make{15}both friends and enemies; to inspire affection,and to kindle resentment; but his friends lovedhim with a love "stronger" than "death," andmore burning than "hell"; and it was well to beso hated, if he was so beloved.{20}
A course of ascetic practice such as this wouldleave its spiritual effects upon him for life. Itsank deep into him, though the surface might{10}not show it. His duty at Constantinople was tomix with the world; and he lived as others,except as regards such restraints as his sacredoffice and archiepiscopal station demanded ofhim. He wore shoes, and an under garment;{15}but his stomach was ever delicate, and at mealshe was obliged to have his own dish, such as itwas, to himself. However, he mixed freely withall ranks of men; and he made friends,affectionate friends, of young and old, men and women,{20}rich and poor, by condescending to all of everydegree. How he was loved at Antioch, is shownby the expedient used to transfer him thence toConstantinople. Asterius, count of the East, hadorders to send for him, and ask his company to a{25}church without the city. Having got him intohis carriage, he drove off with him to the firststation on the highroad to Constantinople, whereimperial officers were in readiness to convey himthither. Thus he was brought upon the scene of{30}those trials which have given him a name in history,and a place in the catalogue of the Saints.At the imperial city he was as much followed, ifnot as popular, as at Antioch. "The peopleflocked to him," says Sozomen, "as often as hepreached; some of them to hear what would{5}profit them, others to make trial of him. Hecarried them away, one and all, and persuadedthem to think as he did about the Divine Nature.They hung upon his words, and could not haveenough of them; so that, when they thrust and{10}jammed themselves together in an alarming way,every one making an effort to get nearer to him,and to hear him more perfectly, he took his seatin the midst of them, and taught from the pulpitof the Reader."[31]He was, indeed, a man to make{15}both friends and enemies; to inspire affection,and to kindle resentment; but his friends lovedhim with a love "stronger" than "death," andmore burning than "hell"; and it was well to beso hated, if he was so beloved.{20}
[31]Hist. viii. 5.
[31]Hist. viii. 5.
Here he differs, as far as I can judge, from hisbrother saints and doctors of the Greek Church,St. Basil and St. Gregory Nazianzen. They werescholars, shy perhaps and reserved; and thoughthey had not given up the secular state, they were{25}essentially monks. There is no evidence, that Iremember, to show that they attached men totheir persons. They, as well as John, had amultitude of enemies; and were regarded, theone with dislike, the other perhaps with contempt;{30}but they had not, on the other hand,warm, eager, sympathetic, indignant, agonizedfriends. There is another characteristic inChrysostom, which perhaps gained for him this greatblessing. He had, as it would seem, a vigor,{5}elasticity, and, what may be called, sunniness ofmind, all his own. He was ever sanguine,seldom sad. Basil had a life-long malady, involvingcontinual gnawing pain and a weight of physicaldejection. He bore his burden well and{10}gracefully, like the great Saint he was, as Job bore his;but it was a burden like Job's. He was a calm, mild,grave, autumnal day; St. John Chrysostom wasa day in spring-time, bright and rainy, andglittering through its rain. Gregory was the full{15}summer, with a long spell of pleasant stillness, itsmonotony relieved by thunder and lightning.And St. Athanasius figures to us the sternpersecuting winter, with its wild winds, its drearywastes, its sleep of the great mother, and the{20}bright stars shining overhead. He andChrysostom have no points in common; but Gregory wasa dethroned Archbishop of Constantinople, likeChrysostom, and, again, dethroned by hisbrethren the Bishops. Like Basil, too, Chrysostom was{25}bowed with infirmities of body; he was often ill;he was thin and wizened; cold was a misery tohim; heat affected his head; he scarcely daretouch wine; he was obliged to use the bath;obliged to take exercise, or rather to be{30}continually on the move. Whether from a nervous orfebrile complexion, he was warm in temper; orat least, at certain times, his emotion struggledhard with his reason. But he had that noblespirit which complains as little as possible; whichmakes the best of things; which soon recovers{5}its equanimity, and hopes on in circumstanceswhen others sink down in despair....
Here he differs, as far as I can judge, from hisbrother saints and doctors of the Greek Church,St. Basil and St. Gregory Nazianzen. They werescholars, shy perhaps and reserved; and thoughthey had not given up the secular state, they were{25}essentially monks. There is no evidence, that Iremember, to show that they attached men totheir persons. They, as well as John, had amultitude of enemies; and were regarded, theone with dislike, the other perhaps with contempt;{30}but they had not, on the other hand,warm, eager, sympathetic, indignant, agonizedfriends. There is another characteristic inChrysostom, which perhaps gained for him this greatblessing. He had, as it would seem, a vigor,{5}elasticity, and, what may be called, sunniness ofmind, all his own. He was ever sanguine,seldom sad. Basil had a life-long malady, involvingcontinual gnawing pain and a weight of physicaldejection. He bore his burden well and{10}gracefully, like the great Saint he was, as Job bore his;but it was a burden like Job's. He was a calm, mild,grave, autumnal day; St. John Chrysostom wasa day in spring-time, bright and rainy, andglittering through its rain. Gregory was the full{15}summer, with a long spell of pleasant stillness, itsmonotony relieved by thunder and lightning.And St. Athanasius figures to us the sternpersecuting winter, with its wild winds, its drearywastes, its sleep of the great mother, and the{20}bright stars shining overhead. He andChrysostom have no points in common; but Gregory wasa dethroned Archbishop of Constantinople, likeChrysostom, and, again, dethroned by hisbrethren the Bishops. Like Basil, too, Chrysostom was{25}bowed with infirmities of body; he was often ill;he was thin and wizened; cold was a misery tohim; heat affected his head; he scarcely daretouch wine; he was obliged to use the bath;obliged to take exercise, or rather to be{30}continually on the move. Whether from a nervous orfebrile complexion, he was warm in temper; orat least, at certain times, his emotion struggledhard with his reason. But he had that noblespirit which complains as little as possible; whichmakes the best of things; which soon recovers{5}its equanimity, and hopes on in circumstanceswhen others sink down in despair....
II
Whence is this devotion to St. JohnChrysostom, which leads me to dwell upon the thought ofhim, and makes me kindle at his name, when so{10}many other great Saints, as the year brings roundtheir festivals, command indeed my veneration,but exert no personal claim upon my heart?Many holy men have died in exile, many holymen have been successful preachers; and what{15}more can we write upon St. Chrysostom'smonument than this, that he was eloquent and that hesuffered persecution? He is not an Athanasius,expounding a sacred dogma with a luminousnesswhich is almost an inspiration; nor is he{20}Athanasius, again, in his romantic life-long adventures,in his sublime solitariness, in his ascendancy overall classes of men, in his series of triumphs overmaterial force and civil tyranny. Nor, exceptby the contrast, does he remind us of that{25}Ambrose who kept his ground obstinately in animperial city, and fortified himself against theheresy of a court by the living rampart of adevoted population. Nor is he Gregory or Basil,rich in the literature and philosophy of Greece,and embellishing the Church with the spoils ofheathenism. Again, he is not an Augustine,devoting long years to one masterpiece of thought,{5}and laying, in successive controversies, thefoundations of theology. Nor is he a Jerome, so dead tothe world that he can imitate the point and witof its writers without danger to himself orscandal to his brethren. He has not trampled upon{10}heresy, nor smitten emperors, nor beautified thehouse or the service of God, nor knit together theportions of Christendom, nor founded a religiousorder, nor built up the framework of doctrine, norexpounded the science of the Saints; yet I love{15}him, as I love David or St. Paul.
Whence is this devotion to St. JohnChrysostom, which leads me to dwell upon the thought ofhim, and makes me kindle at his name, when so{10}many other great Saints, as the year brings roundtheir festivals, command indeed my veneration,but exert no personal claim upon my heart?Many holy men have died in exile, many holymen have been successful preachers; and what{15}more can we write upon St. Chrysostom'smonument than this, that he was eloquent and that hesuffered persecution? He is not an Athanasius,expounding a sacred dogma with a luminousnesswhich is almost an inspiration; nor is he{20}Athanasius, again, in his romantic life-long adventures,in his sublime solitariness, in his ascendancy overall classes of men, in his series of triumphs overmaterial force and civil tyranny. Nor, exceptby the contrast, does he remind us of that{25}Ambrose who kept his ground obstinately in animperial city, and fortified himself against theheresy of a court by the living rampart of adevoted population. Nor is he Gregory or Basil,rich in the literature and philosophy of Greece,and embellishing the Church with the spoils ofheathenism. Again, he is not an Augustine,devoting long years to one masterpiece of thought,{5}and laying, in successive controversies, thefoundations of theology. Nor is he a Jerome, so dead tothe world that he can imitate the point and witof its writers without danger to himself orscandal to his brethren. He has not trampled upon{10}heresy, nor smitten emperors, nor beautified thehouse or the service of God, nor knit together theportions of Christendom, nor founded a religiousorder, nor built up the framework of doctrine, norexpounded the science of the Saints; yet I love{15}him, as I love David or St. Paul.
How am I to account for it? It has nothappened to me, as it might happen to many a man,that I have devoted time and toil to the study ofhis writings or of his history, and cry up that{20}upon which I have made an outlay, or love whathas become familiar to me. Cases may occurwhen our admiration for an author is onlyadmiration of our own comments on him, and whenour love of an old acquaintance is only our love{25}of old times. For me, I have not written thelife of Chrysostom, nor translated his works, norstudied Scripture in his exposition, nor forgedweapons of controversy out of his sayings or hisdoings. Nor is his eloquence of a kind to carry{30}any one away who has ever so little knowledgeof the oratory of Greece and Rome. It is notforce of words, nor cogency of argument, norharmony of composition, nor depth or richness ofthought, which constitute his power,—whence,then, has he this influence, so mysterious, yet so{5}strong?
How am I to account for it? It has nothappened to me, as it might happen to many a man,that I have devoted time and toil to the study ofhis writings or of his history, and cry up that{20}upon which I have made an outlay, or love whathas become familiar to me. Cases may occurwhen our admiration for an author is onlyadmiration of our own comments on him, and whenour love of an old acquaintance is only our love{25}of old times. For me, I have not written thelife of Chrysostom, nor translated his works, norstudied Scripture in his exposition, nor forgedweapons of controversy out of his sayings or hisdoings. Nor is his eloquence of a kind to carry{30}any one away who has ever so little knowledgeof the oratory of Greece and Rome. It is notforce of words, nor cogency of argument, norharmony of composition, nor depth or richness ofthought, which constitute his power,—whence,then, has he this influence, so mysterious, yet so{5}strong?
I consider St. Chrysostom's charm to lie in hisintimate sympathy and compassionateness forthe whole world, not only in its strength, but inits weakness; in the lively regard with which he{10}views everything that comes before him, takenin the concrete, whether as made after its ownkind or as gifted with a nature higher than itsown. Not that any religious man—above all,not that any Saint—could possibly contrive to{15}abstract the love of the work from the love ofits Maker, or could feel a tenderness for earthwhich did not spring from devotion to heaven;or as if he would not love everything just in thatdegree in which the Creator loves it, and{20}according to the measure of gifts which the Creatorhas bestowed upon it, and preëminently for theCreator's sake. But this is the characteristicof all Saints; and I am speaking, not of what St.Chrysostom had in common with others, but what{25}he had special to himself; and this specialty, Iconceive, is the interest which he takes in allthings, not so far as God has made them alike,but as He has made them different from eachother. I speak of the discriminating{30}affectionateness with which he accepts every one for what ispersonal in him and unlike others. I speak of hisversatile recognition of men, one by one, for thesake of that portion of good, be it more or less,of a lower order or a higher, which has severallybeen lodged in them; his eager contemplation of{5}the many things they do, effect, or produce, ofall their great works, as nations or as states;nay, even as they are corrupted or disguised byevil, so far as that evil may in imagination bedisjoined from their proper nature, or may be{10}regarded as a mere material disorder apart fromits formal character of guilt. I speak of thekindly spirit and the genial temper with whichhe looks round at all things which thiswonderful world contains; of the graphic fidelity with{15}which he notes them down upon the tablets ofhis mind, and of the promptitude and proprietywith which he calls them up as arguments orillustrations in the course of his teaching as theoccasion requires. Possessed though he be by{20}the fire of Divine charity, he has not lost onefiber, he does not miss one vibration, of thecomplicated whole of human sentiment and affection;like the miraculous bush in the desert, which, forall the flame that wrapt it round, was not thereby{25}consumed.
I consider St. Chrysostom's charm to lie in hisintimate sympathy and compassionateness forthe whole world, not only in its strength, but inits weakness; in the lively regard with which he{10}views everything that comes before him, takenin the concrete, whether as made after its ownkind or as gifted with a nature higher than itsown. Not that any religious man—above all,not that any Saint—could possibly contrive to{15}abstract the love of the work from the love ofits Maker, or could feel a tenderness for earthwhich did not spring from devotion to heaven;or as if he would not love everything just in thatdegree in which the Creator loves it, and{20}according to the measure of gifts which the Creatorhas bestowed upon it, and preëminently for theCreator's sake. But this is the characteristicof all Saints; and I am speaking, not of what St.Chrysostom had in common with others, but what{25}he had special to himself; and this specialty, Iconceive, is the interest which he takes in allthings, not so far as God has made them alike,but as He has made them different from eachother. I speak of the discriminating{30}affectionateness with which he accepts every one for what ispersonal in him and unlike others. I speak of hisversatile recognition of men, one by one, for thesake of that portion of good, be it more or less,of a lower order or a higher, which has severallybeen lodged in them; his eager contemplation of{5}the many things they do, effect, or produce, ofall their great works, as nations or as states;nay, even as they are corrupted or disguised byevil, so far as that evil may in imagination bedisjoined from their proper nature, or may be{10}regarded as a mere material disorder apart fromits formal character of guilt. I speak of thekindly spirit and the genial temper with whichhe looks round at all things which thiswonderful world contains; of the graphic fidelity with{15}which he notes them down upon the tablets ofhis mind, and of the promptitude and proprietywith which he calls them up as arguments orillustrations in the course of his teaching as theoccasion requires. Possessed though he be by{20}the fire of Divine charity, he has not lost onefiber, he does not miss one vibration, of thecomplicated whole of human sentiment and affection;like the miraculous bush in the desert, which, forall the flame that wrapt it round, was not thereby{25}consumed.
Such, in a transcendent perfection, was thegaze, as we may reverently suppose, with whichthe loving Father of all surveyed in eternity thatuniverse even in its minutest details which He{30}had decreed to create such the loving pity withwhich He spoke the word when the due momentcame, and began to mold the finite, as Hecreated it, in His infinite hands; such the watchfulsolicitude with which he now keeps Hiscatalogue of the innumerable birds of heaven, and{5}counts day by day the very hairs of our head andthe alternations of our breathing. Such, muchmore, is the awful contemplation with which Heencompasses incessantly every one of those soulson whom He heaps His mercies here, in order{10}to make them the intimate associates of His owneternity hereafter. And we too, in our measure,are bound to imitate Him in our exact and vividapprehension of Himself and of His works. As toHimself, we love Him, not simply in His nature,{15}but in His triple personality, lest we become merepantheists. And so, again, we choose our patronSaints, not for what they have in common witheach other (else there could be no room for choiceat all), but for what is peculiar to them severally.{20}That which is my warrant, therefore, for particulardevotions at all, becomes itself my reason fordevotion to St. John Chrysostom. In him Irecognize a special pattern of that very gift ofdiscrimination. He may indeed be said in some sense to{25}have a devotion of his own for every one whocomes across him,—for persons, ranks, classes,callings, societies, considered as Divine works andthe subjects of his good offices or good will, andtherefore I have a devotion for him.{30}
Such, in a transcendent perfection, was thegaze, as we may reverently suppose, with whichthe loving Father of all surveyed in eternity thatuniverse even in its minutest details which He{30}had decreed to create such the loving pity withwhich He spoke the word when the due momentcame, and began to mold the finite, as Hecreated it, in His infinite hands; such the watchfulsolicitude with which he now keeps Hiscatalogue of the innumerable birds of heaven, and{5}counts day by day the very hairs of our head andthe alternations of our breathing. Such, muchmore, is the awful contemplation with which Heencompasses incessantly every one of those soulson whom He heaps His mercies here, in order{10}to make them the intimate associates of His owneternity hereafter. And we too, in our measure,are bound to imitate Him in our exact and vividapprehension of Himself and of His works. As toHimself, we love Him, not simply in His nature,{15}but in His triple personality, lest we become merepantheists. And so, again, we choose our patronSaints, not for what they have in common witheach other (else there could be no room for choiceat all), but for what is peculiar to them severally.{20}That which is my warrant, therefore, for particulardevotions at all, becomes itself my reason fordevotion to St. John Chrysostom. In him Irecognize a special pattern of that very gift ofdiscrimination. He may indeed be said in some sense to{25}have a devotion of his own for every one whocomes across him,—for persons, ranks, classes,callings, societies, considered as Divine works andthe subjects of his good offices or good will, andtherefore I have a devotion for him.{30}
It is this observant benevolence which gives tohis exposition of Scripture its chief characteristic.He is known in ecclesiastical literature as theexpounder, above all others, of its literal sense.Now in mystical comments the direct object whichthe writer sets before him is the Divine Author{5}Himself of the written Word. Such a writersees in Scripture, not so much the works of God,as His nature and attributes; the Teacher morethan the definite teaching, or its humaninstruments, with their drifts and motives, their courses{10}of thought, their circumstances and personalpeculiarities. He loses the creature in the glorywhich surrounds the Creator. The problembefore him is not what the inspired writer directlymeant, and why, but, out of the myriad of{15}meanings present to the Infinite Being who inspired him,which it is that is most illustrative of that GreatBeing's all-holy attributes and solemn dispositions.Thus, in the Psalter, he will drop David and Israeland the Temple together, and will recognize{20}nothing there but the shadows of those greater truthswhich remain forever. Accordingly, themystical comment will be of an objective character;whereas a writer who delights to ponder humannature and human affairs, to analyze the{25}workings of the mind, and to contemplate what issubjective to it, is naturally drawn to investigatethe sense of the sacred writer himself, who was theorgan of the revelation, that is, he will investigatethe literal sense. Now, in the instance of St.{30}Chrysostom, it so happens that literal expositionis the historical characteristic of the school inwhich he was brought up; so that if he commentedon Scripture at all, he anyhow would haveadopted that method; still, there have beenmany literal expositors, but only one{5}Chrysostom. It is St. Chrysostom who is the charm ofthe method, not the method that is the charmof St. Chrysostom.
It is this observant benevolence which gives tohis exposition of Scripture its chief characteristic.He is known in ecclesiastical literature as theexpounder, above all others, of its literal sense.Now in mystical comments the direct object whichthe writer sets before him is the Divine Author{5}Himself of the written Word. Such a writersees in Scripture, not so much the works of God,as His nature and attributes; the Teacher morethan the definite teaching, or its humaninstruments, with their drifts and motives, their courses{10}of thought, their circumstances and personalpeculiarities. He loses the creature in the glorywhich surrounds the Creator. The problembefore him is not what the inspired writer directlymeant, and why, but, out of the myriad of{15}meanings present to the Infinite Being who inspired him,which it is that is most illustrative of that GreatBeing's all-holy attributes and solemn dispositions.Thus, in the Psalter, he will drop David and Israeland the Temple together, and will recognize{20}nothing there but the shadows of those greater truthswhich remain forever. Accordingly, themystical comment will be of an objective character;whereas a writer who delights to ponder humannature and human affairs, to analyze the{25}workings of the mind, and to contemplate what issubjective to it, is naturally drawn to investigatethe sense of the sacred writer himself, who was theorgan of the revelation, that is, he will investigatethe literal sense. Now, in the instance of St.{30}Chrysostom, it so happens that literal expositionis the historical characteristic of the school inwhich he was brought up; so that if he commentedon Scripture at all, he anyhow would haveadopted that method; still, there have beenmany literal expositors, but only one{5}Chrysostom. It is St. Chrysostom who is the charm ofthe method, not the method that is the charmof St. Chrysostom.
That charm lies, as I have said, in his habit andhis power of throwing himself into the minds{10}of others, of imagining with exactness and withsympathy circumstances or scenes which werenot before him, and of bringing out what he hasapprehended in words as direct and vivid as theapprehension. His page is like the table of a{15}camera lucida, which represents to us the livingaction and interaction of all that goes on aroundus. That loving scrutiny, with which he followsthe Apostles as they reveal themselves to us intheir writings, he practices in various ways{20}towards all men, living and dead, high and low,those whom he admires and those whom he weepsover. He writes as one who was ever lookingout with sharp but kind eyes upon the world ofmen and their history; and hence he has always{25}something to produce about them, new or old,to the purpose of his argument, whether frombooks or from the experience of life. Head andheart were full to overflowing with a stream ofmingled "wine and milk," of rich vigorous thought{30}and affectionate feeling. This is why his mannerof writing is so rare and special; and why, whenonce a student enters into it, he will everrecognize him, wherever he meets with extracts fromhim.
That charm lies, as I have said, in his habit andhis power of throwing himself into the minds{10}of others, of imagining with exactness and withsympathy circumstances or scenes which werenot before him, and of bringing out what he hasapprehended in words as direct and vivid as theapprehension. His page is like the table of a{15}camera lucida, which represents to us the livingaction and interaction of all that goes on aroundus. That loving scrutiny, with which he followsthe Apostles as they reveal themselves to us intheir writings, he practices in various ways{20}towards all men, living and dead, high and low,those whom he admires and those whom he weepsover. He writes as one who was ever lookingout with sharp but kind eyes upon the world ofmen and their history; and hence he has always{25}something to produce about them, new or old,to the purpose of his argument, whether frombooks or from the experience of life. Head andheart were full to overflowing with a stream ofmingled "wine and milk," of rich vigorous thought{30}and affectionate feeling. This is why his mannerof writing is so rare and special; and why, whenonce a student enters into it, he will everrecognize him, wherever he meets with extracts fromhim.
Letters of Chrysostom, written in Exile
"To Olympias
"Why do you bewail me? Why beat your breast,{5}and abandon yourself to the tyranny of despondency?Why are you grieved because you have failed ineffecting my removal from Cucusus? Yet, as far as your ownpart is concerned, you have effected it, since you haveleft nothing undone in attempting it. Nor have you any{10}reason to grieve for your ill success; perhaps it has seemedgood to God to make my race course longer that mycrown may be brighter. You ought to leap and dance andcrown yourself for this, viz., that I should be accountedworthy of so great a matter, which far exceeds my merit.{15}Does my present loneliness distress you? On thecontrary, what can be more pleasant than my sojourn here?I have quiet, calm, much leisure, excellent health. Tobe sure, there is no market in the city, nor anythingon sale; but this does not affect me; for all things, as if{20}from some fountains, flow in upon me. Here is my lord,the Bishop of the place, and my lord Dioscorus, makingit their sole business to make me comfortable. Thatexcellent person Patricius will tell you in what goodspirits and lightness of mind, and amid what kind{25}attentions, I am passing my time."—Ep.14.
"Why do you bewail me? Why beat your breast,{5}and abandon yourself to the tyranny of despondency?Why are you grieved because you have failed ineffecting my removal from Cucusus? Yet, as far as your ownpart is concerned, you have effected it, since you haveleft nothing undone in attempting it. Nor have you any{10}reason to grieve for your ill success; perhaps it has seemedgood to God to make my race course longer that mycrown may be brighter. You ought to leap and dance andcrown yourself for this, viz., that I should be accountedworthy of so great a matter, which far exceeds my merit.{15}Does my present loneliness distress you? On thecontrary, what can be more pleasant than my sojourn here?I have quiet, calm, much leisure, excellent health. Tobe sure, there is no market in the city, nor anythingon sale; but this does not affect me; for all things, as if{20}from some fountains, flow in upon me. Here is my lord,the Bishop of the place, and my lord Dioscorus, makingit their sole business to make me comfortable. Thatexcellent person Patricius will tell you in what goodspirits and lightness of mind, and amid what kind{25}attentions, I am passing my time."—Ep.14.
The same is his report to his friends at Cæesarea,and the same are his expressions of gratitudeand affection towards them. The following isaddressed to the President of Cappodocia:{30}"To Carterius
The same is his report to his friends at Cæesarea,and the same are his expressions of gratitudeand affection towards them. The following isaddressed to the President of Cappodocia:{30}"To Carterius
"Cucusus is a place desolate in the extreme; however,it does not annoy me so much by its desolateness as itrelieves me by its quiet and its leisure. Accordingly, Ihave found a sort of harbor in this desolateness; andhave set me down to recover breath after the miseries{5}of the journey, and have availed myself of the quiet todispose of what remained both of my illness and of theother troubles which I have undergone. I say this toyour illustriousness, knowing well the joy you feel inthis rest of mine. I can never forget what you did for{10}me in Cæsarea, in quelling those furious and senselesstumults, and striving to the utmost, as far as your powersextended, to place me in security. I give this outpublicly wherever I go, feeling the liveliest gratitude to you,my most worshipful lord, for so great solicitude towards{15}me."—Ep.236.
"Cucusus is a place desolate in the extreme; however,it does not annoy me so much by its desolateness as itrelieves me by its quiet and its leisure. Accordingly, Ihave found a sort of harbor in this desolateness; andhave set me down to recover breath after the miseries{5}of the journey, and have availed myself of the quiet todispose of what remained both of my illness and of theother troubles which I have undergone. I say this toyour illustriousness, knowing well the joy you feel inthis rest of mine. I can never forget what you did for{10}me in Cæsarea, in quelling those furious and senselesstumults, and striving to the utmost, as far as your powersextended, to place me in security. I give this outpublicly wherever I go, feeling the liveliest gratitude to you,my most worshipful lord, for so great solicitude towards{15}me."—Ep.236.
"To Diogenes
"Cucusus is indeed a desolate spot, and moreoverunsafe to dwell in, from the continual danger to whichit is exposed of brigands. You, however, though away,have turned it for me into a paradise. For, when I{20}hear of your abundant zeal and charity in my behalf,so genuine and warm (it does not at all escape me, farremoved as I am from you), I possess a great treasureand untold wealth in such affection, and feel myselfto be dwelling in the safest of cities, by reason of the{25}great gladness which bears me up, and the highconsolation which I enjoy."—Ep.144.
"Cucusus is indeed a desolate spot, and moreoverunsafe to dwell in, from the continual danger to whichit is exposed of brigands. You, however, though away,have turned it for me into a paradise. For, when I{20}hear of your abundant zeal and charity in my behalf,so genuine and warm (it does not at all escape me, farremoved as I am from you), I possess a great treasureand untold wealth in such affection, and feel myselfto be dwelling in the safest of cities, by reason of the{25}great gladness which bears me up, and the highconsolation which I enjoy."—Ep.144.
Diogenes was one of the friends who sent himsupplies: he writes in answer:
Diogenes was one of the friends who sent himsupplies: he writes in answer:
"You know very well yourself that I have ever been{30}one of your most warmly attached admirers; thereforeI beg you will not be hurt at my having returned yourpresents. I have pressed out of them and have quaffedthe honor which they did me; and if I return the thingsthemselves, it has been from no slight or distrust of you,but because I was in no need of them. I have done thesame in the case of many others; for many others too,with a generosity like yours, ardent friends of mine, have{5}made me the same offers; and the same apology has setme right with them which I now ask you to receive. IfI am in want, I will ask these things of you with muchfreedom, as if they were my own property, nay withmore, as the event will show. Receive them back, then,{10}and keep them carefully; so that, if there is a call forthem some time hence, I may reckon on them."—Ep.50.
"You know very well yourself that I have ever been{30}one of your most warmly attached admirers; thereforeI beg you will not be hurt at my having returned yourpresents. I have pressed out of them and have quaffedthe honor which they did me; and if I return the thingsthemselves, it has been from no slight or distrust of you,but because I was in no need of them. I have done thesame in the case of many others; for many others too,with a generosity like yours, ardent friends of mine, have{5}made me the same offers; and the same apology has setme right with them which I now ask you to receive. IfI am in want, I will ask these things of you with muchfreedom, as if they were my own property, nay withmore, as the event will show. Receive them back, then,{10}and keep them carefully; so that, if there is a call forthem some time hence, I may reckon on them."—Ep.50.
As a fellow to the above, I add one of hisletters:
As a fellow to the above, I add one of hisletters:
"To Carteria
"What are you saying? that your unintermitting{15}ailments have hindered you from visiting me? but youhavecome, you are present with me. From your veryintention I have gained all this, nor have you any needto excuse yourself in this matter. That warm and truecharity of yours, so vigorous, so constant, suffices to{20}make me very happy. What I have ever declared inmy letters, I now declare again, that, wherever I may be,though I be transported to a still more desolate placethan this, you and your matters I never shall forget.Such pledges of your warm and true charity have you{25}stored up for me, pledges which length of time can neverobliterate nor waste; but, whether I am near you or faraway, ever do I cherish that same charity, beingassured of the loyalty and sincerity of your affection forme, which has been my comfort hitherto."—Ep.227.{30}
"What are you saying? that your unintermitting{15}ailments have hindered you from visiting me? but youhavecome, you are present with me. From your veryintention I have gained all this, nor have you any needto excuse yourself in this matter. That warm and truecharity of yours, so vigorous, so constant, suffices to{20}make me very happy. What I have ever declared inmy letters, I now declare again, that, wherever I may be,though I be transported to a still more desolate placethan this, you and your matters I never shall forget.Such pledges of your warm and true charity have you{25}stored up for me, pledges which length of time can neverobliterate nor waste; but, whether I am near you or faraway, ever do I cherish that same charity, beingassured of the loyalty and sincerity of your affection forme, which has been my comfort hitherto."—Ep.227.{30}
"To Olympias
"It is not a light effort," he says (Ep.2), "butit demands an energetic soul and a great mind tobear separation from one whom we love in thecharity of Christ. Every one knows this whoknows what it is to love sincerely, who knowsthe power of supernatural love. Take the blessedPaul: here was a man who had stripped himself{5}of the flesh, and who went about the worldalmost with a disembodied soul, who hadexterminated from his heart every wild impulse, andwho imitated the passionless sereneness of theimmaterial intelligences, and who stood on high{10}with the Cherubim, and shared with them in theirmystical music, and bore prisons, chains,transportations, scourges, stoning, shipwreck, and everyform of suffering; yet he, when separated fromone soul loved by him in Christian charity, was{15}so confounded and distracted as all at once torush out of that city, in which he did not find thebeloved one whom he expected. 'When I wascome to Troas,' he says, 'for the gospel of Christ,and a door was opened to me in the Lord, I had{20}no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titusmy brother; but bidding them farewell, I wentinto Macedonia.'
"It is not a light effort," he says (Ep.2), "butit demands an energetic soul and a great mind tobear separation from one whom we love in thecharity of Christ. Every one knows this whoknows what it is to love sincerely, who knowsthe power of supernatural love. Take the blessedPaul: here was a man who had stripped himself{5}of the flesh, and who went about the worldalmost with a disembodied soul, who hadexterminated from his heart every wild impulse, andwho imitated the passionless sereneness of theimmaterial intelligences, and who stood on high{10}with the Cherubim, and shared with them in theirmystical music, and bore prisons, chains,transportations, scourges, stoning, shipwreck, and everyform of suffering; yet he, when separated fromone soul loved by him in Christian charity, was{15}so confounded and distracted as all at once torush out of that city, in which he did not find thebeloved one whom he expected. 'When I wascome to Troas,' he says, 'for the gospel of Christ,and a door was opened to me in the Lord, I had{20}no rest in my spirit, because I found not Titusmy brother; but bidding them farewell, I wentinto Macedonia.'
"Is it Paul who says this?" he continues;"Paul who, even when fastened in the stocks,{25}when confined in a dungeon, when torn withthe bloody scourge, did nevertheless convert andbaptize and offer sacrifice, and was chary evenof one soul which was seeking salvation? andnow, when he has arrived at Troas, and sees the{30}field cleansed of weeds, and ready for the sowing,and the floor full, and ready to his hand,suddenly he flings away the profit, though he camethither expressly for it. 'So it was,' he answersme, 'just so; I was possessed by a predominatingtyranny of sorrow, for Titus was away; and this{5}so wrought upon me as to compel me to thiscourse.' Those who have the grace of charityare not content to be united in soul only, theyseek for the personal presence of him they love.
"Is it Paul who says this?" he continues;"Paul who, even when fastened in the stocks,{25}when confined in a dungeon, when torn withthe bloody scourge, did nevertheless convert andbaptize and offer sacrifice, and was chary evenof one soul which was seeking salvation? andnow, when he has arrived at Troas, and sees the{30}field cleansed of weeds, and ready for the sowing,and the floor full, and ready to his hand,suddenly he flings away the profit, though he camethither expressly for it. 'So it was,' he answersme, 'just so; I was possessed by a predominatingtyranny of sorrow, for Titus was away; and this{5}so wrought upon me as to compel me to thiscourse.' Those who have the grace of charityare not content to be united in soul only, theyseek for the personal presence of him they love.
"Turn once more to this scholar of charity, and{10}you will find that so it is. 'We, brethren,' hesays, 'being bereaved of you for the time of anhour, in sight, not in heart, have hastened themore abundantly to see your face with greatdesire. For we would have come unto you, I,{15}Paul, indeed, once and again, but Satan hathhindered us. For which cause, forbearing nolonger, we thought it good to remain at Athensalone, and we sent Timothy.' What force isthere in each expression! That flame of charity{20}living in his soul is manifested with singularluminousness. He does not say so much as'separated from you,' nor 'torn,' nor 'divided,'nor 'abandoned,' but only 'bereaved'; moreovernot 'for a certain period,' but merely 'for the{25}time of an hour'; and separated, 'not in heart,but in presence only'; again, 'have hastenedthe more abundantly to see your face.' What!it seems charity so captivated you that youdesiderated their sight, you longed to gaze upon{30}their earthly, fleshly countenance? 'Indeed Idid,' he answers: 'I am not ashamed to say so;for in that seeing all the channels of the sensesmeet together. I desire to see your presence;for there is the tongue which utters sounds andannounces the secret feelings; there is the{5}hearing which receives words, and there the eyeswhich image the movements of the soul.' Butthis is not all: not content with writing to themletters, he actually sends to them Timothy, whowas with him, and who was more than any letters.{10}And, 'We thought it good to remain alone;'that is, when he is divided from one brother,he says, he is left alone, though he had so manyothers with him."
"Turn once more to this scholar of charity, and{10}you will find that so it is. 'We, brethren,' hesays, 'being bereaved of you for the time of anhour, in sight, not in heart, have hastened themore abundantly to see your face with greatdesire. For we would have come unto you, I,{15}Paul, indeed, once and again, but Satan hathhindered us. For which cause, forbearing nolonger, we thought it good to remain at Athensalone, and we sent Timothy.' What force isthere in each expression! That flame of charity{20}living in his soul is manifested with singularluminousness. He does not say so much as'separated from you,' nor 'torn,' nor 'divided,'nor 'abandoned,' but only 'bereaved'; moreovernot 'for a certain period,' but merely 'for the{25}time of an hour'; and separated, 'not in heart,but in presence only'; again, 'have hastenedthe more abundantly to see your face.' What!it seems charity so captivated you that youdesiderated their sight, you longed to gaze upon{30}their earthly, fleshly countenance? 'Indeed Idid,' he answers: 'I am not ashamed to say so;for in that seeing all the channels of the sensesmeet together. I desire to see your presence;for there is the tongue which utters sounds andannounces the secret feelings; there is the{5}hearing which receives words, and there the eyeswhich image the movements of the soul.' Butthis is not all: not content with writing to themletters, he actually sends to them Timothy, whowas with him, and who was more than any letters.{10}And, 'We thought it good to remain alone;'that is, when he is divided from one brother,he says, he is left alone, though he had so manyothers with him."
You may think, Gentlemen, I have been verylong in coming to the Turks, and indeed I havebeen longer than I could have wished; but Ihave thought it necessary, in order to your takinga just view of them, that you should survey them{5}first of all in their original condition. When theyfirst appear in history they are Huns or Tartars,and nothing else; they are indeed in nounimportant respects Tartars even now; but, had theynever been made something more than Tartars,{10}they never would have had much to do with thehistory of the world. In that case, they wouldhave had only the fortunes of Attila and Zingis;they might have swept over the face of the earth,and scourged the human race, powerful to destroy,{15}helpless to construct, and in consequenceephemeral; but this would have been all. But this hasnot been all, as regards the Turks; for, in spiteof their intimate resemblance or relationship tothe Tartar tribes, in spite of their essential{20}barbarism to this day, still they, or at least greatportions of the race, have been put undereducation; they have been submitted to a slowcourse of change, with a long history and a profitablediscipline and fortunes of a peculiar kind;and thus they have gained those qualities ofmind, which alone enable a nation to wield andto consolidate imperial power.
You may think, Gentlemen, I have been verylong in coming to the Turks, and indeed I havebeen longer than I could have wished; but Ihave thought it necessary, in order to your takinga just view of them, that you should survey them{5}first of all in their original condition. When theyfirst appear in history they are Huns or Tartars,and nothing else; they are indeed in nounimportant respects Tartars even now; but, had theynever been made something more than Tartars,{10}they never would have had much to do with thehistory of the world. In that case, they wouldhave had only the fortunes of Attila and Zingis;they might have swept over the face of the earth,and scourged the human race, powerful to destroy,{15}helpless to construct, and in consequenceephemeral; but this would have been all. But this hasnot been all, as regards the Turks; for, in spiteof their intimate resemblance or relationship tothe Tartar tribes, in spite of their essential{20}barbarism to this day, still they, or at least greatportions of the race, have been put undereducation; they have been submitted to a slowcourse of change, with a long history and a profitablediscipline and fortunes of a peculiar kind;and thus they have gained those qualities ofmind, which alone enable a nation to wield andto consolidate imperial power.
I have said that, when first they distinctly{5}appear on the scene of history, they areindistinguishable from Tartars. Mount Altai, thehigh metropolis of Tartary, is surrounded by ahilly district, rich not only in the useful, but inthe precious metals. Gold is said to abound{10}there; but it is still more fertile in veins of iron,which indeed is said to be the most plentiful inthe world. There have been iron works therefrom time immemorial, and at the time that theHuns descended on the Roman Empire (in the{15}fifth century of the Christian era), we findthe Turks nothing more than a family of slaves,employed as workers of the ore and as blacksmithsby the dominant tribe. Suddenly in the courseof fifty years, soon after the fall of the Hunnish{20}power in Europe, with the sudden developmentpeculiar to Tartars, we find these Turks spreadfrom East to West, and lords of a territory soextensive, that they were connected, by relationsof peace or war, at once with the Chinese, the{25}Persians, and the Romans. They had reachedKamtchatka on the North, the Caspian on theWest, and perhaps even the mouth of the Induson the South. Here then we have anintermediate empire of Tartars, placed between the{30}eras of Attila and Zingis; but in this sketch it hasno place, except as belonging to Turkish history,because it was contained within the limits ofAsia, and, though it lasted for 200 years, it onlyfaintly affected the political transactions ofEurope. However, it was not without some sort{5}of influence on Christendom, for the Romansinterchanged embassies with its sovereign in thereign of the then Greek Emperor Justin theyounger (A.D.570), with the view of engaginghim in a warlike alliance against Persia. The{10}account of one of these embassies remains, andthe picture it presents of the Turks is important,because it seems clearly to identify them withthe Tartar race.
I have said that, when first they distinctly{5}appear on the scene of history, they areindistinguishable from Tartars. Mount Altai, thehigh metropolis of Tartary, is surrounded by ahilly district, rich not only in the useful, but inthe precious metals. Gold is said to abound{10}there; but it is still more fertile in veins of iron,which indeed is said to be the most plentiful inthe world. There have been iron works therefrom time immemorial, and at the time that theHuns descended on the Roman Empire (in the{15}fifth century of the Christian era), we findthe Turks nothing more than a family of slaves,employed as workers of the ore and as blacksmithsby the dominant tribe. Suddenly in the courseof fifty years, soon after the fall of the Hunnish{20}power in Europe, with the sudden developmentpeculiar to Tartars, we find these Turks spreadfrom East to West, and lords of a territory soextensive, that they were connected, by relationsof peace or war, at once with the Chinese, the{25}Persians, and the Romans. They had reachedKamtchatka on the North, the Caspian on theWest, and perhaps even the mouth of the Induson the South. Here then we have anintermediate empire of Tartars, placed between the{30}eras of Attila and Zingis; but in this sketch it hasno place, except as belonging to Turkish history,because it was contained within the limits ofAsia, and, though it lasted for 200 years, it onlyfaintly affected the political transactions ofEurope. However, it was not without some sort{5}of influence on Christendom, for the Romansinterchanged embassies with its sovereign in thereign of the then Greek Emperor Justin theyounger (A.D.570), with the view of engaginghim in a warlike alliance against Persia. The{10}account of one of these embassies remains, andthe picture it presents of the Turks is important,because it seems clearly to identify them withthe Tartar race.
For instance, in the mission to the Tartars{15}from the Pope, which I have already spoken of,the friars were led between two fires, when theyapproached the Khan, and they at first refusedto follow, thinking they might be countenancingsome magical rite. Now we find it recorded of{20}this Roman embassy, that, on its arrival, it waspurified by the Turks with fire and incense. Asto incense, which seems out of place among suchbarbarians, it is remarkable that it is used inthe ceremonial of the Turkish court to this day.{25}At least Sir Charles Fellows, in his work on theAntiquities of Asia Minor, in 1838, speaks of theSultan as going to the festival of Bairam withincense-bearers before him. Again, when theRomans were presented to the great Khan, they{30}found him in his tent, seated on a throne, to whichwheels were attached and horses attachable, inother words, a Tartar wagon. Moreover, theywere entertained at a banquet which lasted thegreater part of the day; and an intoxicatingliquor, not wine, which was sweet and pleasant,{5}was freely presented to them; evidently theTartarkoumiss.[32]The next day they had asecond entertainment in a still more splendidtent; the hangings were of embroidered silk, andthe throne, the cups, and the vases were of gold.{10}On the third day, the pavilion, in which they werereceived, was supported on gilt columns; a couchof massive gold was raised on four gold peacocks;and before the entrance to the tent was whatmight be called a sideboard, only that it was a{15}sort of barricade of wagons, laden with dishes,basins, and statues of solid silver. All thesepoints in the description—the silk hangings, thegold vessels, the successively increasing splendorof the entertainments—remind us of the courts{20}of Zingis and Timour, 700 and 900 yearsafterwards.
For instance, in the mission to the Tartars{15}from the Pope, which I have already spoken of,the friars were led between two fires, when theyapproached the Khan, and they at first refusedto follow, thinking they might be countenancingsome magical rite. Now we find it recorded of{20}this Roman embassy, that, on its arrival, it waspurified by the Turks with fire and incense. Asto incense, which seems out of place among suchbarbarians, it is remarkable that it is used inthe ceremonial of the Turkish court to this day.{25}At least Sir Charles Fellows, in his work on theAntiquities of Asia Minor, in 1838, speaks of theSultan as going to the festival of Bairam withincense-bearers before him. Again, when theRomans were presented to the great Khan, they{30}found him in his tent, seated on a throne, to whichwheels were attached and horses attachable, inother words, a Tartar wagon. Moreover, theywere entertained at a banquet which lasted thegreater part of the day; and an intoxicatingliquor, not wine, which was sweet and pleasant,{5}was freely presented to them; evidently theTartarkoumiss.[32]The next day they had asecond entertainment in a still more splendidtent; the hangings were of embroidered silk, andthe throne, the cups, and the vases were of gold.{10}On the third day, the pavilion, in which they werereceived, was supported on gilt columns; a couchof massive gold was raised on four gold peacocks;and before the entrance to the tent was whatmight be called a sideboard, only that it was a{15}sort of barricade of wagons, laden with dishes,basins, and statues of solid silver. All thesepoints in the description—the silk hangings, thegold vessels, the successively increasing splendorof the entertainments—remind us of the courts{20}of Zingis and Timour, 700 and 900 yearsafterwards.
[32]Univ. Hist. Modern, vol. iii. p. 346.
[32]Univ. Hist. Modern, vol. iii. p. 346.
This empire, then, of the Turks was of a Tartarcharacter; yet it was the first step of theirpassing from barbarism to that degree of civilization{25}which is their historical badge. And it was theirfirst step in civilization, not so much by whatit did in its day, as (unless it be a paradox tosay so) by its coming to an end. Indeed it sohappens, that those Turkish tribes which have{30}changed their original character and have a placein the history of the world, have obtained theirstatusand their qualifications for it, by a processvery different from that which took place in thenations most familiar to us. What this process{5}has been I will say presently; first, however, letus observe that, fortunately for our purpose, wehave still specimens existing of those otherTurkish tribes, which were never submitted tothis process of education and change, and, in{10}looking at them as they now exist, we see at thisvery day the Turkish nationality in somethingvery like its original form, and are able to decidefor ourselves on its close approximation to theTartar. You may recollect I pointed out to{15}you, Gentlemen, in the opening of these lectures,the course which the pastoral tribes, or nomadsas they are often called, must necessarily takein their emigrations. They were forced alongin one direction till they emerged from their{20}mountain valleys, and descended their highplateau at the end of Tartary, and then they hadthe opportunity of turning south. If they didnot avail themselves of this opening, but went onstill westward, their next southern pass would{25}be the defiles of the Caucasus and Circassia, tothe west of the Caspian. If they did not use this,they would skirt the top of the Black Sea, andso reach Europe. Thus in the emigration of theHuns from China, you may recollect a tribe of{30}them turned to the South as soon as they could,and settled themselves between the high Tartarland and the sea of Aral, while the main bodywent on to the furthest West by the north of theBlack Sea. Now with this last passage intoEurope we are not here concerned, for the Turks{5}have never introduced themselves to Europe bymeans of it;[33]but with those two southwardpassages which are Asiatic, viz., that to the eastof the Aral, and that to the west of the Caspian.The Turkish tribes have all descended upon the{10}civilized world by one or other of these two roads;and I observe, that those which have descendedalong the east of the Aral have changed theirsocial habits and gained political power, whilethose which descended to the west of the Caspian{15}remain pretty much what they ever were. Theformer of these go among us by the generalname of Turks; the latter are the Turcomansor Turkmans.... At the very date at whichHeraclius called the Turcomans into Georgia, at{20}the very date when their Eastern brethrencrossed the northern border of Sogdiana, an eventof most momentous import had occurred in theSouth. A new religion had arisen in Arabia.The impostor Mahomet, announcing himself the{25}Prophet of God, was writing the pages of thatbook, and molding the faith of that people, whichwas to subdue half the known world. The Turkspassed the Jaxartes southward inA.D.626; justfour years before Mahomet had assumed the royaldignity, and just six years after, on his death,his followers began the conquest of the PersianEmpire. In the course of 20 years they effectedit; Sogdiana was at its very extremity, or its{5}borderland; there the last king of Persia tookrefuge from the south, while the Turks werepouring into it from the north. There was little tochoose for the unfortunate prince between theTurk and the Saracen; the Turks were his{10}hereditary foe; they had been the giants andmonsters of the popular poetry; but he threwhimself into their arms. They engaged in hisservice, betrayed him, murdered him, andmeasured themselves with the Saracens in his stead.{15}Thus the military strength of the north and southof Asia, the Saracenic and the Turkish, came intomemorable conflict in the regions of which I havesaid so much. The struggle was a fierce one, andlasted many years; the Turks striving to force{20}their way down to the ocean, the Saracens todrive them back into their Scythian deserts.They first fought this issue in Bactriana orKhorasan; the Turks got the worst of the fight,and then it was thrown back upon Sogdiana{25}itself, and there it ended again in favor of theSaracens. At the end of 90 years from the timeof the first Turkish descent on this fair region,they relinquished it to their Mahometanopponents. The conquerors found it rich, populous,{30}and powerful; its cities, Carisme, Bokhara, andSamarcand, were surrounded beyond theirfortifications by a suburb of fields and gardens, whichwas in turn protected by exterior works; its plainswere well cultivated, and its commerce extendedfrom China to Europe. Its riches were{5}proportionally great; the Saracens were able to extorta tribute of two million gold pieces from theinhabitants; we read, moreover, of the crownjewels of one of the Turkish princesses; and ofthe buskin of another, which she dropt in her{10}flight from Bokhara, as being worth twothousand pieces of gold.[34]Such had been the prosperityof the barbarian invaders, such was its end; butnottheirend, for adversity did them service, aswell as prosperity, as we shall see.{15}
This empire, then, of the Turks was of a Tartarcharacter; yet it was the first step of theirpassing from barbarism to that degree of civilization{25}which is their historical badge. And it was theirfirst step in civilization, not so much by whatit did in its day, as (unless it be a paradox tosay so) by its coming to an end. Indeed it sohappens, that those Turkish tribes which have{30}changed their original character and have a placein the history of the world, have obtained theirstatusand their qualifications for it, by a processvery different from that which took place in thenations most familiar to us. What this process{5}has been I will say presently; first, however, letus observe that, fortunately for our purpose, wehave still specimens existing of those otherTurkish tribes, which were never submitted tothis process of education and change, and, in{10}looking at them as they now exist, we see at thisvery day the Turkish nationality in somethingvery like its original form, and are able to decidefor ourselves on its close approximation to theTartar. You may recollect I pointed out to{15}you, Gentlemen, in the opening of these lectures,the course which the pastoral tribes, or nomadsas they are often called, must necessarily takein their emigrations. They were forced alongin one direction till they emerged from their{20}mountain valleys, and descended their highplateau at the end of Tartary, and then they hadthe opportunity of turning south. If they didnot avail themselves of this opening, but went onstill westward, their next southern pass would{25}be the defiles of the Caucasus and Circassia, tothe west of the Caspian. If they did not use this,they would skirt the top of the Black Sea, andso reach Europe. Thus in the emigration of theHuns from China, you may recollect a tribe of{30}them turned to the South as soon as they could,and settled themselves between the high Tartarland and the sea of Aral, while the main bodywent on to the furthest West by the north of theBlack Sea. Now with this last passage intoEurope we are not here concerned, for the Turks{5}have never introduced themselves to Europe bymeans of it;[33]but with those two southwardpassages which are Asiatic, viz., that to the eastof the Aral, and that to the west of the Caspian.The Turkish tribes have all descended upon the{10}civilized world by one or other of these two roads;and I observe, that those which have descendedalong the east of the Aral have changed theirsocial habits and gained political power, whilethose which descended to the west of the Caspian{15}remain pretty much what they ever were. Theformer of these go among us by the generalname of Turks; the latter are the Turcomansor Turkmans.... At the very date at whichHeraclius called the Turcomans into Georgia, at{20}the very date when their Eastern brethrencrossed the northern border of Sogdiana, an eventof most momentous import had occurred in theSouth. A new religion had arisen in Arabia.The impostor Mahomet, announcing himself the{25}Prophet of God, was writing the pages of thatbook, and molding the faith of that people, whichwas to subdue half the known world. The Turkspassed the Jaxartes southward inA.D.626; justfour years before Mahomet had assumed the royaldignity, and just six years after, on his death,his followers began the conquest of the PersianEmpire. In the course of 20 years they effectedit; Sogdiana was at its very extremity, or its{5}borderland; there the last king of Persia tookrefuge from the south, while the Turks werepouring into it from the north. There was little tochoose for the unfortunate prince between theTurk and the Saracen; the Turks were his{10}hereditary foe; they had been the giants andmonsters of the popular poetry; but he threwhimself into their arms. They engaged in hisservice, betrayed him, murdered him, andmeasured themselves with the Saracens in his stead.{15}Thus the military strength of the north and southof Asia, the Saracenic and the Turkish, came intomemorable conflict in the regions of which I havesaid so much. The struggle was a fierce one, andlasted many years; the Turks striving to force{20}their way down to the ocean, the Saracens todrive them back into their Scythian deserts.They first fought this issue in Bactriana orKhorasan; the Turks got the worst of the fight,and then it was thrown back upon Sogdiana{25}itself, and there it ended again in favor of theSaracens. At the end of 90 years from the timeof the first Turkish descent on this fair region,they relinquished it to their Mahometanopponents. The conquerors found it rich, populous,{30}and powerful; its cities, Carisme, Bokhara, andSamarcand, were surrounded beyond theirfortifications by a suburb of fields and gardens, whichwas in turn protected by exterior works; its plainswere well cultivated, and its commerce extendedfrom China to Europe. Its riches were{5}proportionally great; the Saracens were able to extorta tribute of two million gold pieces from theinhabitants; we read, moreover, of the crownjewels of one of the Turkish princesses; and ofthe buskin of another, which she dropt in her{10}flight from Bokhara, as being worth twothousand pieces of gold.[34]Such had been the prosperityof the barbarian invaders, such was its end; butnottheirend, for adversity did them service, aswell as prosperity, as we shall see.{15}