Another complaint, that the profession might justly make, is, the want of any representatives of their interest in the lower House of Parliament. Both in the Lords and Commons assembly the law possesses a large and even overwhelming force; and although the constitution of the country precludes the ministers of religion from holding seats in the Commons, yet that want is well supplied by the talent and eloquence of the members sent by the universities of Oxford and Cambridge into that chamber; and the omission is, moreover, fully and excellently made up by the number, learning, and energy of the bishops having seats in the House of Peers; while the professors of medicine are altogether without any one to stand up in their behalf. The consequence of this is, that if a medical question is started, or one having reference to sanitary measures—which, indeed, are interesting to every individual in the state, inasmuch as his own health and safety may be involved in them—it is either shelved on the first decent opportunity, or discussed languidly in a thin house. If the University of London, the Royal Colleges of Physicians and Surgeons, and some of the northern Universities, had the privilege granted them of sendingrepresentatives to the Legislature, the addition might be found to be as much for the benefit of the nation as for the honour and advantage of the profession itself.[157]
About this time, finding that my friend the Mir Shahamet Ali intended to visit the north of England, I availed myself of the opportunity, and joined him in the excursion. This gentleman was the most remarkable stranger I have met with in England; he was a native of Delhi, where he received his education. The Mir was a most intelligent and learned man, and had travelled much in Bengal with Sir Claude Wade, whom he had accompanied to the Punjaub and Bahawalpur, when that gentleman went there for the purpose of negotiating with those States for throwing open the navigation of the Indus and the Sutledge. The Mir was afterwards sent with presents from the English Government to the Court of Lahore, and he subsequently published, in English, two books, the “Sikhs and Affghans,” and a “History of Bahawalpur,” besides one or two little pamphlets on Indian affairs; he also long held the situation ofMir Moonsheein the Upper Provinces.
Perhaps I may here be allowed to give an anecdote illustrative of Londonhaut tonand society, showing how scrupulous they are, and how a stranger may inadvertently fall into disrepute; and also, how easily aforeigner, by slight mistakes, may suffer severe consequences. I once, mistaking the designation of my friend, the Mir, introduced him at the houses of some religious fashionables as a prince, supposing the term Mir, in Hindustani, to be equivalent to the word Emir in Arabic. Some person chose to bestow this title onmyselfinstead of my friend, and I was supposed to be the prince. An intimate friend afterwards told me that I had been accused of introducingmyselfas a prince. Thus a report, arising from a mistake of which I was wholly unconscious, was for some time circulated to my prejudice.
But return to the Mir, he came to this country to obtain a better insight into European manners and society. Her Majesty the Queen of England was graciously pleased to receive him, and he was presented at court by the Earl of Shaftesbury. General Duncan Macleod, of the Indian army, whose engineering talents have been so justly admired, as exemplified in the splendid palace erected under his sole direction for the Nawab of Moorshedabad, also a friend of the Mir, was present. During this presentation, a very pleasing incident occurred, illustrative to the latter of the urbanity of Scottish aristocracy. Being very much struck with the splendid Highland costume of one of the gentlemen present, the Mir wished to be allowed to inspect it nearer, when General Macleod, with characteristic amiability, apologetically explained to the object of his admiration how much hisprotégé, the Oriental, was struck with his appearance. The chieftain very good-naturedly invited the Mir to approach, adding, “Perhaps you would like to see a chieftain’s wife also,” and forthwith introduced him to his lady, the Duchess of ---.
As may readily be conceived, it was most agreeable for me to travel about with such a companion as the Mir. We visited all the manufacturing districts together. The Mir was indefatigable, active, inquiring, and desirous of obtaining knowledge in every acquirable shape. We proceeded to Birmingham, where we were received by our consul, Mr. Collis, and entertained at his house during our sojourn; he shewed us whatever sights in that wonderful town he deemed at all interesting to us. The various places we travelled through are so familiar to my English readers, that to relate them all, would prove tedious. Suffice it that we got on very well together, till we were one day leaving Sheffield for Edinburgh. At Sheffield we had nearly exhausted our funds in purchasing cutlery, etc., so that when we came to the railway-station we had not enough ready money between us to pay our fare onward to Edinburgh. We were, however, bearers of letters of credit, and stating our circumstances to the head booking-clerk, he kindly consented to allow us to proceed by the train on condition that we paid on arriving in Edinburgh. Accordingly we took our seats in the carriage, and began to condole with each other on the awkwardness of our position. There was one other person beside ourselves in the carriage, and this gentleman, though a perfect stranger, kindly came forward and pressed upon us the use of his purse. After some little altercation and hesitation, Mir Shahamet Ali and myself agreed to borrow five pounds of this worthy stranger, on condition that we should be permitted to return it immediately after our arrival at Edinburgh. Our promise to pay was, as the reader may imagine, promptly met. This stranger proved to be Mr. Walker, the celebrated engineer, of Great George-street, and onreturning from London to Scotland, I called to thank this estimable gentleman for his unsolicited kindness to myself and friend; and through this slight incident, I still enjoy his friendship and acquaintance.
While in Edinburgh, we were much delighted at our visit to Holyrood in its quiet and decayed grandeur—majestic with age—replete with tragic and romantic reminiscences. This impressed us much, and the whole aspect of Edinburgh, especially as viewed by night, struck us as singularly Oriental; and we, in imagination, could with ease have conjured up some additions to the Arabian nights. The dim outline of the castle on the rock—the old town, dark and confused beneath, whilst on the opposite height, row upon row of twinkling or brilliant lights flashed across the sight; these might have made one easily suppose that the grovelling creatures of earth inhabited the lower portion, guarded by some portentously frowning power; whilst above danced the fairies in their exquisite mother’s light (called by the common people, “Bonnie Jumpers”); and in the new town dwelt theMagi, all illumination, life, light, and splendour. The hospitality and warmth of kindness of the Scotch to us strangers, was irresistibly gratifying, and we were most kindly entertained by many of them.
In our walks, the boys frequently screamed after and cheered us, loudly vociferating, “Ibrahim Pasha!” I presume that they had heard of him, and imagined that every Oriental must bethe man. The English almost invariably, even amongst the better classes, call everybody that wears afezortarboush,a Turk, much upon the same principle as our people call every one with ahat(chapeau),Franjior a man from European countries, without distinction as to sect, creed, nationality, or thevast variety that exists amongst both people of government, laws, manners, and histories. The English also have an idea that every one wearing a turban must be a follower of Mahomed. Apropos of this subject, I may here recount an anecdote which will doubtless amuse my readers.
One day when I was at the hospital, there was a woman waiting for a surgical operation to be performed. After explaining its nature, the surgeon, much to my delight, asked me to perform the needful operation. Up to this moment the woman was lying on a bed perfectly resigned, and with both hands clasped over her eyes. No sooner, however, did I take up the instruments, and draw near to perform the needful service, than she started up in bed, and glaring wildly at me with terror depicted in her countenance, and doubtless alarmed at my Oriental garb and beard, she screamed out with all her might, “The Turk! the Turk! the Turk is going to cut me!” Nor could any arguments of mine persuade her to submit to the operation at my hands.
My friend, Shahamet Ali, had for some time rented a cottage at Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, where on our return he invited me to pass a few days. I cordially accepted this invitation, and whilst at Ryde had the happiness of meeting Lord and Lady Downes, together with Sir Claude Wade and his amiable lady, from all of whom I received much kindness, which has not ceased to this day. My visit to Ryde extended over a month, and my friend, Shahamet Ali, was during that time making his arrangements for a journey to Constantinople and thence to Mecca, which last place he visited for the express purpose of purifying himself, he having mixed so much with Christians that his religionrequired his pilgrimage thither. I accompanied him as far as Paris, where I left with him letters of introduction to my friends in the East. I have since heard from him; he had reached Mecca in safety, had performed his ablutions to satisfy the prejudice of his countrymen, thus washing away all impurities supposed to be contracted by mingling for so long a time in the customs and manners of the infidels. He is now settled as agent for the East India Company at Selana in Malwa.
We both were much pleased with the Parisians. No introduction was needed—our position in society was a passport everywhere. The French are so amiable,au dévant de vous; perfect in grace, fascination andtoilette; more cheerful, and perhaps warmer-hearted than the English—but far less stable. A Frenchman may form a violent attachment to a person to-day, and to-morrow be wholly indifferent as to his whereabouts or welfare. An Englishman may be some months before he evinces the least symptoms of even a partiality; but when a friendship really exists, you may count upon its sincerity and continuance.
I returned to London and remained for some time, when my good friend, Mahomed Pasha, being recalled to Constantinople, it was arranged that I should return to Paris and reside there. Amongst others whose acquaintance I had the honour of renewing in France, was that of M. Lamartine, the great admirer of Lebanon, whom I had met in Syria. We were mutually pleased to renew our friendship. He wrote a very flowery letter to the Sultan Abdul Medjid, in which he said that having a map before him of all that mighty potentate’s dominions, he had fixed upon a little spot in Syria (Lebanon), whither he would wish towithdraw himself from the turmoil and strife of life to settle down; but the Turkish government, considering that the Maronites, who already possessed much influence through French protection might choose him as their Emir, consequently, in lieu of the small bit of ground begged for in Syria, presented him with an immense tract of fertile ground in Asia Minor, where the poet-statesman of France might sow every seed, save the seed of political discord, which in such a wilderness would never take root.
Orientals who visit Paris for the first time are at a loss to conceive anything more magnificent than its streets and its palaces and gardens. After having been in England, however, their opinion is materially altered, though I must still admit that there are some striking features in Paris; amongst these, the Boulevards, Champs Elysées, Tuileries, the Louvre and Luxembourg, are the most attractive. Of the greater part of the streets of Paris I can say but little; and there are some so filthy, narrow, and almost impassable, as to outstrip the meanest town in Turkey. Nothing but the uncouth woodensabotsof the French could at any season traverse them. Though I must acknowledge that nothing can surpass the easy elegance and refinement of the higher classes of society, it would appear, from what a poor countryman of mine told me, that the second-rate lodging houses are miserable in the extreme. One would imagine, from his description, that they went to the opposite extreme to luxury. Complaining bitterly of his fate, for he had all his life before been accustomed to opulent independence in Lebanon, he wrote to me the other day as follows, viz.:—
“The disagreeable first-impression made upon my mind on first taking possession of my lodgings here (Paris), was themelancholy resemblance existing between my chimney-place and a Syrian church-yard, for I can assure you that its shape resembles exactly one of our ordinary tombstones. For the first few nights I hardly dared look at it before going to bed, lest I should have my rest broken by dreams of spectres and other horrid sprites of the imagination. In addition to its disagreeable appearance, it smokes so terribly that I dare not light a fire, though shivering with cold, lest I should lose my eyesight from the effects of the smoke; but this is not all; the door will not shut well, the floorings are of damp bricks, and the rooms are built without respect to proportion, elegance, or comfort. The house I am living in is eight stories high, and heigho! poor me, I live on the fourth floor, so that I have a hundred steps to mount up and down a dozen times a-day. The greatest nuisance of all is, that the street door is continually being left open, so that any one given to pilfering is at perfect liberty to walk up and down stairs and help himself to whatever the fates may throw in his way. There certainly is nominally aconcierge. This old worthy, however, is either so engrossed with an old newspaper or so comfortably napping, that he is perfectly unconscious of all passing around him.“I have vainly complained to him of this negligence, and pointed out the inconvenience and interruption I was perpetually being exposed to by people rapping at my door, under the pretext of inquiring if M. So-and-so lodged there, but evidently with the intention of finding out if there was any one within to hinder their forcing an entrance. His invariable reply used to be, ‘Eh bien!que voulez vous que je fasse.’ There are no bells, so that I may die in a fit, or be burnt to death before any assistance could be obtained.”
“The disagreeable first-impression made upon my mind on first taking possession of my lodgings here (Paris), was themelancholy resemblance existing between my chimney-place and a Syrian church-yard, for I can assure you that its shape resembles exactly one of our ordinary tombstones. For the first few nights I hardly dared look at it before going to bed, lest I should have my rest broken by dreams of spectres and other horrid sprites of the imagination. In addition to its disagreeable appearance, it smokes so terribly that I dare not light a fire, though shivering with cold, lest I should lose my eyesight from the effects of the smoke; but this is not all; the door will not shut well, the floorings are of damp bricks, and the rooms are built without respect to proportion, elegance, or comfort. The house I am living in is eight stories high, and heigho! poor me, I live on the fourth floor, so that I have a hundred steps to mount up and down a dozen times a-day. The greatest nuisance of all is, that the street door is continually being left open, so that any one given to pilfering is at perfect liberty to walk up and down stairs and help himself to whatever the fates may throw in his way. There certainly is nominally aconcierge. This old worthy, however, is either so engrossed with an old newspaper or so comfortably napping, that he is perfectly unconscious of all passing around him.
“I have vainly complained to him of this negligence, and pointed out the inconvenience and interruption I was perpetually being exposed to by people rapping at my door, under the pretext of inquiring if M. So-and-so lodged there, but evidently with the intention of finding out if there was any one within to hinder their forcing an entrance. His invariable reply used to be, ‘Eh bien!que voulez vous que je fasse.’ There are no bells, so that I may die in a fit, or be burnt to death before any assistance could be obtained.”
Such is the deplorable picture drawn by my poor friend, who, on the other hand, lauds up to the skies lodgings of a similar class in London, and as he is a sharp, acute man, I have little doubt but that he is correct in his ideas.
What surprised me very much in Paris was the apparent ignorance of the French with regard to thecities and towns of the Holy Land. I forgot at that period that they were restricted from reading their Bibles, and that consequently very few of them were likely to have the names of places, and people familiar to the English and ourselves, so firmly impressed upon their minds. My appearance and costume never excited curiosity. When they asked me whence I came from, and I answeredSyria, the word made no impression on them.
“Where is that?” said one man to another in my hearing.
“Ma foi,je ne saurais vous dire—unless it be some obscure village in Algeria which our colonists have not yet explored.”
Of course the higher classes are not guilty of such ignorance, for who could have thrown a better light on the beauties and localities of Syria than the learned and amiable Lamartine, whose accurate work,Souvenirs de l’Orient, is deservedly popular over Europe.
I have many pleasantsouvenirsof the friends I met in Paris. The hospitablereunionsof their Excellencies the Turkish and the English ambassadors—the kindness of the American representative, Mr. Rives—the brilliant balls I was invited to by various families of fashion—and an adventure at the hotel V....—never to be forgotten, and which it is my intention at some future period to publish, which I have no doubt will interest many of my English readers—all these I recall with pleasure, and I avail myself of this opportunity with gladness to thank my many friends in Paris for the courtesy and kindness I have ever met with at their hands. But putting these aside as elegant exceptions, I prefer on the whole England, and the friendship ofan Englishman to that of a Frenchman,—the private character of the former has a sounder foundation, and they know how to appreciate real moral, domestic comfort and happiness, such as our countrymen seek for and find amongst the citron groves and gardens of Syria.
Now it can hardly be said that a Frenchman knows what domestic bliss signifies. With him the Café is asine quâ non; he may have an amiable and charming wife, a young and attractive family, every charm of domestic happiness that should link his heart and thoughts with home, and draw him towards it as the only true and rational source of enjoyment; but he leaves all these, and looks upon them as insipid; his sole delight is to wander about from café to café, varying his amusements by an occasional game at billiards or apetit verre, else he strays from theatre to operas, from operas to balls, and some of the wealthier classes live for weeks, and sometimes months, in the country in the strictest seclusion, practising an economy amounting to penuriousness, in order that they may, on their return to town, be enabled to gratify this passion. The wives of these gentlemen, continually deserted, left to themselves, and naturally of a gay turn, which in many instances arises from a neglect of a proper moral education, form thoseliaisonswith others, which are publicly known and talked about with the utmostnonchalance, and which, in my humble opinion, are an outrage to the name of Christianity, and a disgrace to a nation acknowledged in every other respect to stand high in the scale of civilization. I cannot describe what a painful effect it has upon the mind of Syrian strangers to witness such things countenanced in France; they leave the countrywith very poor opinions of its civilization—poorer still of its Christianity; and they disseminate these opinions amongst our own people on their return to Syria; hence it arises that oftentimes the poorer and more ignorant inhabitants of Syria, who cannot distinguish one European nation from another, but who set all down under the head of Franks, and suppose all to be of one creed and manner of thinking, are apt to imagine that the English are only next-door to infidels, and consequently a people to be feared, if not entirely avoided; but this is an error which I will occupy myself in rectifying as soon as I can find time to distribute tracts in Syria descriptive of the laws, manners, customs, and religions, of the different nations of Europe.
But to return to the French, or rather the middle classes of the French. I found it almost invariably the case that should a Frenchman invite you to acafé, he does so in the full expectation that you in your turn will give him a treat. His character is inconsistency personified—he is fickle and capricious—he enters freely into conversation with you, and lets you into all his secrets during the first five minutes of his acquaintance, and he entertains you with a string of personal adventures. With him every one ismon cher!mon brave!mon ami! He could kiss and hug you on parting, and swears eternal fidelity. The next day his ardour has cooled—the third he restricts himself to a bow—the fourth, and he mingles with the crowd—and you never meet him again perhaps in a life-time.
For a ball-room society give me Paris—for a quiet untiring friend, give me England. And of the two my heart prefers the latter.
From France I travelled to Vienna. After delivering my letters to the minister in that city, I proceeded to Constantinople. On arriving there I took up my abode with my old friend the Emir Sayed, the grandson of the Emir Beschir.
Even at this distance of time, my spirit is filled with melancholy, when I think of that kind friend with whom I passed the greater portion of my time whilst at Constantinople: perhaps a description of one evening spent in his society may be of interest.
The Emir Sayed—a wreck of greatness, whose fond dream of life’s realities can only find an echo in the past—the shattered fragment of one born to command—second only to a supreme sovereign—he is a helpless broken-hearted man, supported on the alms of those who could once barely claim the high honour of admission into his presence. So much does misfortune level the creatures of the Creator—so great the fall from a princely estate to a beggarly dependence; thank God, however, even the gloomiest hours of existence, a light, however feeble, of the brighter hopes of life, breaks in upon the soul like an April sunbeam, and chases from its darkened caverns all the moist drops of a tearful heart. It was thus with the Emir Sayed. His favorite resort in Stamboul was acafé, where of an evening, furnished with achibūkand a cup of coffee, he would sit, surrounded by his most intimate friends, and listen from hour to hour to the marvellous or amusing tales told there nightly by professional tale-tellers. On such occasions it was a privilege to me to accompany the fallenprince, for, besides the instruction I derived in learningau fondthe technicalities of the Turkish language, I learnt a lesson in the experiences of life—how to bear up against misfortunes like a man—how to bow the head to the will of Providence, and submit to what might appear a calamity, and still doubtless might be intended as a safeguard or a blessing to him, whom the Great Benefactor has seen fit to surround with troubles, lest his soul should stray from the narrow path of righteousness.
We will now, by the reader’s permission, fancy ourselves threading the narrow streets of the Turkish capital, following a servant, who carries afannar, or lantern. At length we reach thecafé. A thousand lights, strung upon every conceivable hook, lend their enlivening brilliancy to light up thesalon; the open space in front is filled with attentive auditors, all seated on diminutive stools, or carpets, all silent, all sedate, mostly wearing beards, and every one smoking or sipping his coffee. We pass through a kind of human alley. We enter the coffee-shop: the seat at the furthermost end—the seat of honour—is always reserved for the Emir. “He is a Bey still, and also a stranger.”
At length we are all seated, all served, and the amusements of the evening commence; the violin and the guitar, both have been tuned, and the first piece commences: a short symphony of lively music, and then the bard of the company sings a song, of which the following is a specimen:—
Breeze of the West, I pray thee roamToward my moon-faced lady’s home;To her my flight forlorn declare,Tittle by tittle, hair by hair,Parted from thee, thou form of grace,My heart hath been grief’s dwelling-place;And love has drawn my wandering feet,From grove to grove, from street to street.My heart, when bent on beauty’s chase,Ne’er found so sweet a form and face;Although with roving step it went,From house to house, from tent to tent.While others smile, and play, and flirt,This bleeding heart bemoans its hurt,Like a young rose, blood-stained with grief,Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.The garden where I loved to trace,Sweet blooming flowers in thy face,Howlowanddeadall gardens seem,Alley by alley, stream by stream.Sweet jasmine-bosomed love,—I prayFondly to heaven by night and day,Once more to see that form and face,Lip pressed to lip, and face to face.Of all the garden flowers that be,Why is the rose most dear to me?’Tis that it’s like thy heart so true,Odour to odour, hue to hue.Though far from Allah’s loving sight,The Fates have borne my soul’s delight;Go, Western Breeze, this message bear,Where’er thou art, my heart is there!
Breeze of the West, I pray thee roamToward my moon-faced lady’s home;To her my flight forlorn declare,Tittle by tittle, hair by hair,
Parted from thee, thou form of grace,My heart hath been grief’s dwelling-place;And love has drawn my wandering feet,From grove to grove, from street to street.
My heart, when bent on beauty’s chase,Ne’er found so sweet a form and face;Although with roving step it went,From house to house, from tent to tent.While others smile, and play, and flirt,This bleeding heart bemoans its hurt,Like a young rose, blood-stained with grief,Petal by petal, leaf by leaf.
The garden where I loved to trace,Sweet blooming flowers in thy face,Howlowanddeadall gardens seem,Alley by alley, stream by stream.
Sweet jasmine-bosomed love,—I prayFondly to heaven by night and day,Once more to see that form and face,Lip pressed to lip, and face to face.
Of all the garden flowers that be,Why is the rose most dear to me?’Tis that it’s like thy heart so true,Odour to odour, hue to hue.
Though far from Allah’s loving sight,The Fates have borne my soul’s delight;Go, Western Breeze, this message bear,Where’er thou art, my heart is there!
The song is no sooner concluded, narghilies, pipes and coffee handed round, than the story-teller’s abilities are called into requisition, and he tells us the story of
“The Tailor and the Sultan.“Formerly when Baghdad was flourishing, when great men sometimes condescended to sink themselves to alevel with the common herd of mankind, there lived and reigned the Sultan Houssein. He was a famous man and a just judge, but rather eccentric withal. As his Grand Vizier had, on more than one occasion, given him cause of dissatisfaction, he was determined at any cost to get the cleverest man in the kingdom to perform the duties of that office; but he resorted to a curious trial of their talent. A proclamation was issued, that the sultan offered the highest dignity in the empire to him amongst his subjects, who should be able satisfactorily to perform what he should require; on the other hand, the penalty in case of failure being, that the man so failing should forfeit his head. Under such circumstances, the aspirants were not over numerous, but still there were not wanting ambitious men, who were willing to place their heads in danger for the attainment of a position, which perhaps they least of any of the people of the country were fitted for. At last, a presumptuous tailor offered himself as a candidate, and was in due course ushered into the presence of royalty. The poor maker of garments found the sultan reclining on a carpet; and, hanging on a nail in the wall of the room, was a solitary counterpane; and in this counterpane the solution of the whole of the difficulty lay—the task being to cover the sultan entirely over with it. When the tailor first tried, to his consternation he found it too short by two good spans. He then suggested that another should be introduced; but the sultan laughed and hooted at the idea. At last a bright notion flashed across the tailor. He had long been accustomed to the nefarious art of cabbaging, so he set his inventive faculties to work, to find out how he could best cabbage a piece from the length of the sultan’s body, or, in other words, reduce it into as small acompass as could possibly be effected. Bethinking himself luckily of a little cane he usually carried in his girdle, he first covered the sultan’s head, his feet remaining uncovered; he removed the embroidered slippers, and stealthily bringing out his cane, caught the sultan a severe blow across the soles of his feet, that he involuntarily tucked them up, thus drawing himself into a sufficiently small compass, and the tailor, availing himself of this circumstance, instantly tucked the counterpane round him, and thus effectually succeeded in entirely covering him, at the same time telling him he must always take care to stretch his legs according to his covering.”
“The Tailor and the Sultan.
“Formerly when Baghdad was flourishing, when great men sometimes condescended to sink themselves to alevel with the common herd of mankind, there lived and reigned the Sultan Houssein. He was a famous man and a just judge, but rather eccentric withal. As his Grand Vizier had, on more than one occasion, given him cause of dissatisfaction, he was determined at any cost to get the cleverest man in the kingdom to perform the duties of that office; but he resorted to a curious trial of their talent. A proclamation was issued, that the sultan offered the highest dignity in the empire to him amongst his subjects, who should be able satisfactorily to perform what he should require; on the other hand, the penalty in case of failure being, that the man so failing should forfeit his head. Under such circumstances, the aspirants were not over numerous, but still there were not wanting ambitious men, who were willing to place their heads in danger for the attainment of a position, which perhaps they least of any of the people of the country were fitted for. At last, a presumptuous tailor offered himself as a candidate, and was in due course ushered into the presence of royalty. The poor maker of garments found the sultan reclining on a carpet; and, hanging on a nail in the wall of the room, was a solitary counterpane; and in this counterpane the solution of the whole of the difficulty lay—the task being to cover the sultan entirely over with it. When the tailor first tried, to his consternation he found it too short by two good spans. He then suggested that another should be introduced; but the sultan laughed and hooted at the idea. At last a bright notion flashed across the tailor. He had long been accustomed to the nefarious art of cabbaging, so he set his inventive faculties to work, to find out how he could best cabbage a piece from the length of the sultan’s body, or, in other words, reduce it into as small acompass as could possibly be effected. Bethinking himself luckily of a little cane he usually carried in his girdle, he first covered the sultan’s head, his feet remaining uncovered; he removed the embroidered slippers, and stealthily bringing out his cane, caught the sultan a severe blow across the soles of his feet, that he involuntarily tucked them up, thus drawing himself into a sufficiently small compass, and the tailor, availing himself of this circumstance, instantly tucked the counterpane round him, and thus effectually succeeded in entirely covering him, at the same time telling him he must always take care to stretch his legs according to his covering.”
With songs and stories, such as I have given above, the time passes until nine o’clock, at which hour most of those assembled take their departure; and the Emir, attended as when he arrived, returns to his disconsolate dwelling to talk over the misfortunes of other days.
Perhaps here it would not be out of place, to show the fallacy of the opinions usually entertained in Western Europe as to the state of things in Turkey. People talk of the fanaticism of the Turks; and in England more especially they seem to entertain an innate terror of the very name of Turk. Anything ferocious, anything ugly, and black, and dingy, is called “like a Turk.” Now what can undeceive this excessive ignorance better than the conduct of the present amiable and excellent Sultan, of whom many instances might be given, shewing the utmost liberality of conduct towards those of his subjects professing a different creed, and their admission to some of the most responsible public offices. It is a fact worthy of remark, as illustrating this toleration ofspirit, that his representatives at the courts of London, Paris, Vienna, and Berlin,[175]have on several occasions been of the Greek faith. Also, on the event of the marriage of the daughter of the Prince Etienne Vogorides. (Prince Etienne was a native of Bulgaria. He was during ten years Prince of Samos. Latterly, however, he resided at Constantinople, and is high in favour with the Sultan, who for a long time has been accessible to the Prince at any hour; and he is a faithful devoted servant of the Sultan. One of his daughters is married to our present respected ambassador in London, and it is not necessary for me to inform the reader of the manifold virtues and amiable qualities of this lady; but her father’s excellence was such as has obtained for him a notoriety and honour unrivalled in the annals of Mahomedan history. When I was last at Constantinople, a daughter of the prince, a younger sister of our ambassadress, was married to a wealthy gentleman.) To the astonishment and intense gratification of every one present, His Majesty the Sultan attended with his mother at the ceremonial, a most unprecedented act of courtesy, and one least of all to be expected in Turkey, where the extreme fanaticism once existing between the two creeds would, we might have imagined, have raised an insurmountable barrier. What is more remarkable, the Padishah stood up; the prince seeing this, whispered the patriarch to curtail the ceremony. The sharp eyes of the Sultan noticed and understood this hint, and he immediately desired the patriarch to perform the rites as usual, as he was anxious to witness the ceremony fully performed. By departing on occasions such as these from the strict rules and regulations of the Mahomedan code, and bydisregarding the reproachful remonstrances of the Ulemas, who are the most determined advocates of perfect uniformity to their doctrines, Sultan Abdul Medjid Khan, has evinced a strong desire to introduce a thorough social reform into his empire, and he has hereby conciliated the good will and gained the affection of his non-Mahomedan subjects. Indeed, among all the present rulers of the world, and especially those whom Providence has endowed with ample means of improving the condition of their subjects, the Sultan occupies a distinguished position; and to him more credit is due for the reforms he has introduced among his people, than to any other sovereign of the civilised globe, and for this evident reason, that in the path he had to follow the greatest difficulties have been met with and overcome; namely, those powerful ones which spring from religious bigotry and prejudice. These he has either overcome or obviated with the utmost wisdom and perseverance. And even her enemies are obliged to confess that Turkey, under the rule of Abdul Medjid, is in a far more vigorous and flourishing condition than they either believed or hoped. And during the whole of this critical period, in which the affairs of this empire have been agitated, what a noble example of calm and dignified moderation has both his public and private conduct exhibited. To the violent and uncourteous menaces of his enemy, and to the extravagant character of his pretensions, he has opposed a conciliating, yet firm line of policy, which has won for him the respect and support of the more intelligent portion of Europe; and when his character becomes better known to the English public, which it will probably in the course of events, I feel convinced it will claim and win all the admiration it deserves from a people whose public judgment isperhaps the most impartial in the world. My object is not to flatter; but I will avow, that I wish by facts and truth to remove some of that prejudice which is more or less associated in this country with the idea of a Turk. What I have said concerning my sovereign, is borne out by all intelligent travellers who have recently visited his dominions. For his love of literature—for his liberal patronage of men distinguished by literary or other merit—for his patriotism, evinced in his unceasing endeavours to bestow on his country all the advantages to be derived from modern scientific discovery, and for the amiability and gentleness of his personal character, I feel no hesitation, from what I have read of them, in ranking him with the most distinguished sovereigns of ancient times—with Frederick of Prussia, and I will add Peter the Great. But while he far excels the two last in the amiability of his character and disposition, he equals any of them in his efforts to advance the glory of his country and the welfare of his people.
Owing to the ignorance which prevails in Europe on the subject of Turkey, a great outcry is frequently made by many persons about events which occur in that country, without for one moment taking into consideration the difference in the temperament of the people, arising from their Asiatic origin. Our great cause of surprise, is the sudden rise of individuals in comparatively indigent circumstances to places of great power. When, however, it is considered that the Orientals view the various grades of society in another light to the Western Europeans, the sudden aggrandisement of individuals from the lower classes will cease to be a matter of surprise. In Turkey, men of the noblest birth mix indiscriminately with all ranks, and he who is possessed of wealth, talent, or interest, may rise to offices of thegreatest trust; and, as “knowledge is power,” I can see no reason why talent should not be brought into the notice which it merits. As a proof of the justice and benefit accruing from this system, I may adduce the case of a Kapudan Pasha, whose station in life was very humble, but, being gifted with more than ordinary abilities, he was promoted to the chief command of the Turkish fleet, which was never better managed than whilst under his control. Other instances of a similar character are of frequent occurrence, more particularly in the subordinate departments of the home service. A favourite eunuch, or the brother of a Georgian or Circassian concubine or wife, has had honours suddenly and most unexpectedly showered upon him in the civil and military service; and there are at this date many pashas of both services, who owe their rise to similar unforeseen but fortuitous circumstances. It is true, many of these can neither read nor write, but they are possessed of great power of discernment, and are accompanied by two or three individuals who possess sufficient education to carry out the views of their leader in a becoming manner. A good secretary, generally an Armenian, is an indispensable requisite.
The evil arises here in the choice of the subordinates; who, if they be of a bigotted and selfish turn of mind, the benevolent intentions of the government are but imperfectly carried out, or frustrated in spite of the most strenuous efforts.
Sultan Abdul Medjid, and his ministers,[178]deserve the highest credit for the various attempts which have atdifferent times been made, to introduce a thorough reform into the financial system of the Porte. It is undoubtedly a herculean task, for I do not believe that there has ever existed in any country in the world, so perfect and general a system of corruption and extortion, on the part of the inferior officials. Though not oppressive in themselves, the taxes levied upon the people have, in consequence, become an intolerable yoke. Every village and individual taxed generally pays much more than the legitimate amount ordered to be levied by the government. The emirs and district governors, the sheikhs, kekhiahs, and heads of the tribes, live upon the villagers, and oblige the poor tenant-farmers to furnish their establishments with horses and servants, and practise other extortions. To meet these urgent exactions, the poor villagers are obliged annually to raise loans guaranteed on the ensuing season’s crops at a most usurious rate of interest, as high as from twenty-five to thirty-five and forty per cent. per annum, either from wealthy Jews, Armenians, or Greeks, and formerly even many of the protegés of the different European consulates took advantage of this state of things, and fattened upon the misfortunes and miseries of the poor peasants, over whom they rode roughshod. The existence of so terrible an evil could not long remain unknown to the inquiring mind of the Sultan, and though his sources of correct information have necessarily been meagre, he acquired an insight into it, sufficient to convince him of the necessity for a change. Accordingly, he ordered certain taxes to be abolished, others to be reduced; and he, above all, is endeavouring to organise an honest and simple system of collection. To this end all his ministers and employés have been obliged, before taking office, to promise, upon oath, to discharge their several duties impartially andjustly; above all, not to receive bribes in any shape. He has been foiled to a great extent in these attempts; and hence may be derived the clearest and simplest explanation of the financial embarrassments of his government.Aproposof this, I may quote from the letter of a friend, which has just come to hand.
“Everybody seems to imagine that the speedy downfall of Turkey is inevitable, that its doom is all but sealed, and that she is passing as rapidly as she can into the hands of Russia. But it ought to be well known in Western Europe, that the so-much-talked-of balance of power in the East, cannot be thus so easily or so recklessly sacrificed by the two great powers, England and France. The jealousy of these powers is a sufficient safeguard for Turkey; and they will protect her from any aggression on the part of Russia or Austria on her rights and territory; and it is to me evident that Russia’s long course of policy with regard to the Ottoman empire in Turkey, will be frustrated from a quarter whence she may least expect it.”
That which, in my opinion, establishes the resources and vitality of the Turkish empire is, that if one of the serious struggles to which it has been exposed for the last forty years, were to have happened to any other power, it would either have crippled it or caused its entire destruction. Turkey, on the contrary, has, during this space of time, experienced the severest trials, as, for instance, the Greek revolution, the destruction of the Janissaries in 1826 (who at that time constituted her army), the annihilation of her fleet at Navarino, the protracted war with Russia, the civil war with Egypt, and the many partial outbreaks caused by the machinations of European powers; in spite of all these, so far from sinking, Turkey, at this time possesses, besides irregular troops and auxiliaries, a regular and well-disciplined army and a splendid fleet, and is endeavouring still further to increase, and re-establish peace, and internal security; and also to find the bestmeans of enriching her treasury without burdening her subjects; and I trust, that, under the beneficial government of the present benign Sultan, and his enlightened ministers (in spite of the fanatical party), Turkey will yet make great progress in civilisation and all its concomitant blessings. At least, if she does not, it will not be for want of exertion on the part of Abdul Medjid to introduce into his empire a thorough reform, himself setting an example to his subjects of forbearance and goodly feeling towards the many sects dwelling within the boundaries of his empire. The truth of these views has been amply proved by the gallant resistance offered by Turkey at the present crisis to the unjust aggressions of Russia.
Just before leaving Constantinople, a circumstance occurred which created quite a sensation amongst all classes and creeds. An Armenian girl, the daughter of very respectable parents, formed a secret attachment to a young Moslem, in the service of the Sultan. The lovers managed to contrive interviews without exciting the suspicion of the girl’s friends; and eventually the girl fled to her lover, embraced the Mahommedan faith, and was regularly married to him. Sometime after they had been married, the young girl went to call upon her mother, most probably without her husband’s consent. The mother and all her relations bemoaning with many tears her apostasy, implored of the girl not to return to her husband, but to be received once again into her mother church. The girl, overcome by emotion for the moment, yielded a ready consent; and for her better security, it was agreed that she should be placed within the Armenian asylum. This was accordingly done, and the husband made vain search for his missing bride. Meanwhile the young lady got tired of her confinement,and very possibly of the treatment she received from the over-zealous attendants at the asylum, and accordingly contrived, through the window of the room where she was confined, to convey a message to her husband. The husband immediately complained to the authorities; who without delay demanded the girl of the bishop. The prelate at first denied any knowledge of the person in question. A military force was then sent to bring her away at any hazard; and a parley commenced between the commandant and the bishop, in which the latter gave hisparole d’honneur, that if the troops were withdrawn he would conduct the girl himself next day before the divan, and she should there declare publicly, which of the two faiths she of her own free will would wish to embrace. Meanwhile the ambassadors of all European powers had exerted themselves on the woman’s behalf, but all to no purpose. Next day she was brought up trembling before the divan, to answer the important question about to be put her. Most of the European authorities were present, and so was the husband; and no sooner did her eye meet his again, than all her resolution failed her; and so powerful was the effect of her love, that she relinquished parents, family, friends, creed, and nation, all for his sake; and when asked the question, to which creed she gave the preference, her reply was—“I am a Moslem,the wife of a Moslem,and I will live and die as such.” This settled the affair at once. The Turk took his wife to his house back again, and the poor bishop sorrowfully withdrew, lamenting as he went along the unfavourable result of the affair.
Before quitting the subject of my sojourn at Stamboul, I cannot forget the great kindness I received from Alfred Churchill, the proprietor of the Turkishnewspaper, “Djeridei Havadis,” which he supplies with translations, by himself, of the leading topics of European news.
The father of this gentleman was an English merchant established there. Being very fond of shooting, it happened one day that on sport intent, he crossed to seek his game on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus—I would observe that a prejudice exists among the more bigoted natives against Europeans crossing the straits—our gallant sportsman was also unfortunately somewhat short-sighted, and as one does not commonly shoot in spectacles, nor employ that species of eye-glass which some of the young English ladies are so fond of bringing to bear upon any object of their curiosity, the natural consequence was that Mr. Churchill fell into a misadventure, and unluckily wounded a Turkish child. This of course, brought the relations and friends, and indeed the whole neighbourhood upon him, who attacked him with sticks, stones, and slippers, and anything at hand. After half killing him, they dragged him off to prison. This was a natural, perhaps a deserved, punishment for going about and taking bad aims in dangerous localities.
His ambassador made a dreadful noise about this mishap. Colonel --- was sent from England to enquire into the circumstances, who very fairly reported that our friend was certainly wrong, considering the state of his vision, to be shooting near the place, and the Turks were also to blame for the manner of their attack.
But the government of Turkey, after all the trouble and correspondence it caused them, nobly and generously allowed him a reparation, namely, the privilege of trading duty free in salt, which put several thousands into his pocket.
Resuming my narrative, my readers will be interested by a slight sketch of Egypt. This country, now called by the natives “Messir,” was styled, in the Hebrew Scriptures, “The land of Mizraim”—a strange similarity in the two names, which places it beyond a doubt that, however much the face of the country may have been changed since the days of Moses and the children of Israel, and though consecutively under the sway of governments and people whose language and dialects varied in the extreme, the same original name has been faithfully preserved, though corrupted and abbreviated by various pronunciations given to it by various people. A land of troubles and misery it has been through many long centuries, from the fearful days when Aaron’s rod manifested the supreme power of the God of Abraham before the eyes of an unbelieving and stiff-necked people, down to within the last few years. The frightful devastations committed by the plague, and the extermination of the Mameluke power; these have been the last manifest outpourings of the wrath of God. Let us hope that the full cup of indignation has been poured out and emptied to the dregs; and that the prophetic words of Isaiah have been fulfilled as far as regards the curse, and that the predicted blessing is about to fall upon theland. “The Lord shall smite Egypt: he shall smite and heal it; and they shall return to the Lord, and he shall heal them,” etc. (Isaiah xix. 22–25).
The striking allusion made to the fertility of the soil of Egypt in Gen. xli. 47—“The earth brought forth by handfuls”—is still exemplified by the produce. Corn is so plentiful, that cargoes are annually shipped for the maintenance of other lands, and when the famine was sorely felt in the neighbouring countries, whole fleets of vessels, laden with corn from Alexandria, brought to England timely succour to starving multitudes, and enriched the coffers of not a few speculative merchants, who made the miseries of their fellow-beings a means of advancing their own welfare in the world.
There is little doubt but that Egypt has made great strides in civilisation under the sway of the present enlightened viceroy; for we have daily evidence of her continued improvement. Abbas Pasha is now only about forty-five years of age; he is the son of the eldest son of Mahomet Ali Pasha, and, therefore, according to the Egyptian rule, which gives precedence to the brother or his children, became entitled to the throne after the decease of Ibrahim, whose children, in some countries, would have been considered lawful successors. Abbas Pasha, unlike his predecessor, whose habits greatly contributed to curtail his life, is a man of very moderate and temperate style of living; he has but one wife, and, by this lady, an only son, now about twelve years of age. At the recommendation of the honorable Mr. Murray, the late British consul-general in Egypt, the viceroy sent to England to engage a tutor for the education of this son in English, and Mr. Artin, an English lawyer, was the lucky individual fixed upon.
No sooner had Mr. Artin arrived in Egypt, thanAbbas Pasha promoted him to the dignity of Bey, and he now ranks amongst the nobles of the land. The Pasha having set the example himself, strongly recommended all his ministers to have their children educated in like manner; and I have little doubt but that this good advice will, in the course of time, be adopted. He also sends annually a number of young men to England to be educated, who naturally take back with them a strong predilection for the people with whom they have for some time resided. This will tend greatly to introduce a love of English civilisation and improvements in the country.
Amongst other improvements, Abbas Pasha has built himself a magnificent palace, Darr il Bedah, midway between Cairo and Suez. This good work excited the satire and spleen of the French people, who insisted that it was an act of insanity, throwing away money upon such a palace, situated in the desert; but, apart from its having given occupation and bread to thousands of starving inhabitants, the very fact of the Pasha making this place his favourite summer resort, has drawn the attention of the natives to the capabilities of the soil in the neighbourhood, and the place, from being a barren wilderness, is being rapidly brought into cultivation; villages are springing up; and, in addition to all this, the roads have been put into excellent order—not a trifling boon conferred upon the vast number of English travellers that are continually crossing this desert.
The steamers on the Nile, and the railway now in course of construction, are still greater proofs of the Pasha’s enlightened and civilised mind. Abdallah Pasha, an Englishman who some time since embraced Mahomedanism, was appointed director of the transit,and the Pasha promoted him to that grade because he thought no one else competent to discharge the duties of the post. The truth of the matter is, that the English never commanded greater influence than they do at this present day in Egypt; they are looked up to and considered as everybody and everything; and for this they have much to thank the able and honourable Mr. Murray. To give an example of how far this influence with the Pasha extended, I may mention that, some time since, two hundred Copts were compelled to enlist as soldiers. Now these Copts are Christians, and their sufferings amongst the Moslem Fellahs can be more readily conceived than described; their friends and families succeeded in interesting Mr. Murray on their behalf, who interceded with the Pasha; and the result was, that they were immediately discharged from the army. But to shew how much and how sincerely Abbas Pasha appreciates the worth of such a man as the late British consul-general, the best proof I can give is, that when a sad calamity befell Mr. Murray, and his amiable lady died, the viceroy ordered all his ministers and head officials to go into mourning for her, and to follow her remains to the grave. Such a funeral was never witnessed in modern Egypt. All the nobles of the land, and the first gentry, without distinction of creed, with black crape round their left arms and round their red caps, following in mournful procession this highly respected English lady to her grave. If a potentate had died, greater honours could not have been rendered; this act is without precedent in the East.
During my stay in Egypt, I resided with my kind friend Mr. Raphael Abet. Mr. Abet is one of three brothers; they were from Syria, and eventually settledin Egypt. These three brothers were all eminent for their piety and their charity. One unfortunately died prematurely; but he has left behind him an undying name, having bequeathed an immense fortune for the support of charity schools and other similar philanthropic institutions. The brother, of whose kind hospitalities I so abundantly partook during my sojourn in Egypt (and whom I cannot refrain from thanking through the medium of these pages), is equally well known for his benevolence and good deeds. On the occasion of the revolution in Greece, in 1823, when the Turks took several females and children prisoners, and carried them away to be sold as captives in other countries, several of these unfortunates found a friend and deliverer in Mr. Abet. Not a few of the captives were carried into Egypt, and there sold. Many of these were, at a great outlay, purchased by him, who treated them in every respect as though they had been his own children; he fed, clothed, and educated them, and eventually they married and settled comfortably in life. One of the Messrs. Abet is now established in London as a mercantile man; and I am sure all who know him will bear me out in pronouncing him to be a good man and a devout Christian.
Whilst on the subject of Egyptian friends and acquaintances, I must not neglect to mention the name of that good man Mr. Larking, who has left behind him in Egypt many a souvenir of which any Englishman might well be proud; his name is gratefully remembered by all classes in Egypt, from the viceroy himself down to the meanest peasant. Mr. Larking, on first establishing himself in Egypt, so ingratiated himself with the Pasha, that in a very short time he was permitted to purchase whole villages, over whichhe ruled with as absolute sway as any Egyptian landowner. The country round these villages he soon brought into the richest state of cultivation: and so lenient a master, one under whom they reaped so many hitherto unheard-of benefits, made the peasants almost adore the name of Mr. Larking. Not only did he ameliorate the condition of his own land by the introduction of a superior method of cultivation, but he conferred a boon upon the whole of Egypt by procuring at some expense and trouble, the Sea-Island cotton seed, which has succeeded beyond the most sanguine expectations, and for the sample of it, which was shewn at the Great Exhibition, Mr. Larking obtained the prize. The viceroy was, of course, much gratified and pleased at this; and he has bestowed many costly gifts on Mr. Larking as expressive of his approbation; besides which, that gentleman has been appointed to act as the Viceroy’s confidential agent in England. This is only one of the many instances in which commoners have been raised to a high rank by Mehemet Ali Pasha, who being of obscure origin, took delight in raising to power those whose personal merits and talents brought them before his notice. Amongst the Viceroy’s favourites was one who particularly deserves our notice, viz., the late Boghas Bey. An Armenian by birth, and of no great opulence or particular parentage, Boghas Bey was possessed of all those good qualities which cannot fail to endear one even to the most savage breast: his charities were proverbial even to the detriment of his own personal interest. Step by step he rose in the Viceroy’s favour, till he had so far ingratiated himself with the Pasha, that Boghas was created a Bey, and had other high distinctions conferred upon him. He might haveaccumulated immense wealth, for the Viceroy’s heart and hand were ever open to confer great benefits upon him, but Boghas Bey preferred to serve his master gratuitously; and even the produce of the gifts of land forced upon his acceptance, went towards the maintenance of the poor, and many widows and orphans bless his name even to this day. But to shew how dangerous it is to be a favourite at Oriental courts, and how it subjects one to the vile jealousies of courtiers, even Boghas, favourite as he was, was well nigh falling a victim to the viceroy’s susceptibility and the villany of others. Some miscreants had misrepresented his character and actions to the Pasha, who, in a paroxysm of rage, ordered an officer in attendance to go instantly to the supposed delinquent’s house, and have him drowned in the Nile. As good fortune would have it, Boghas had on some previous occasion saved this very officer’s head, and the man gratefully remembering this, hid Boghas in his own house, intending to facilitate his escape to some other country. This was a bold stroke, and one worthy of great praise. Next morning the viceroy was sadly out of spirits; his wrath had not only calmed down, but circumstances had actually transpired which cleared his favourite of all suspicion. Great then was the viceroy’s consternation and grief on being informed that his orders had been executed to the letter: he tore his beard and gave way to exclamations of such sincere sorrow, that the officer took courage to prostrate himself at the viceroy’s feet, and explain how matters really stood. It is needless to say that he was readily pardoned, and Boghas received into higher favour than ever. At last, however, a sterner executioner than the one sent by the Pasha knocked at Boghas Bey’s door. Death came armed, and the good man died, to theuniversal sorrow of the Pasha and all Cairo. Such had been his munificence during his lifetime, that at his death he was almost a bankrupt. The viceroy, determined to carry his esteem to the last, ordered him a public funeral, at which all the Egyptian officials and European consuls and merchants were invited to attend. So that Boghas was buried with honours such as are rarely paid to a prince in that country.
Of course during my stay in Egypt, I had often opportunities of visiting all the known antiquities, and amongst others the celebrated Pyramids, those noble testimonies of the bygone splendour of the land, and whose age and founders seem destined ever to remain a mystery. A friend of mine, a great antiquarian, and one deeply read in profane and sacred history, used to delight in holding forth to me his speculations as to their origin. His opinion was, that it must be erroneous to imagine that these pyramids were the handiwork of the Israelites. In support of this argument he quoted from many authorities, and amongst others from a well-known traveller who saw at one place the people making bricks with straw cut into small pieces, mingled with the clay to bind it. Hence it is, that when villages built of this brick fall into decay, the roads are full of small particles of straw, extremely offensive to the eyes in a high wind. These persons were engaged, exactly as the Israelites used to be, making bricks with straw, and for a similar purpose, viz„ to build extensive granaries for the Pasha—“treasure cities for Pharaoh.” Hence my friend argued that the Israelites laboured in making bricks, not in hewing stones such as the pyramids are constructed with; but I do not pretend to enter into any argument upon so learned and obscure a subject: I certainly was surprised at the magnificenceof their structure, and often wondered within myself where the stones came from, by what means they were transported, and by what now unknown force or lever such huge blocks were raised up one above another, and so left a firm memento through centuries, despite convulsions of the earth, to stand forth as objects of surprise and admiration to the visitors of the present generation.
With regard to the climate of Egypt, I believe it to be as good as many parts of Syria, though the heat is certainly more intense, and even I myself suffered from languor and oppression; but then the mornings and evenings fully recompense you for the sultrier heat of the day, and I never recollect to have enjoyed a summer’s moonlight night more than I did upon the Nile. The European residents in general enjoy excellent health; and few that have resided there long would wish to change their method of living, or the country they live in.
In Cairo, the Consular Square contains many very handsome buildings, inhabited principally by the consuls of various nations, and some of the more wealthy European merchants. With my friend Mr. Walne, the British Consul at Cairo, I have spent many a pleasant hour, and for his great kindness and hospitality, I am glad to have an opportunity of thus publicly thanking him. Mr. W. is the head of the Egyptian Society, who have a very fine library, consisting chiefly of works relating to the antiquities and country of Egypt. The valuable books contained in this library are at all times, with perfect goodwill, placed at the disposal of strangers; and I gratefully acknowledge having derived useful information and amusement from the well-stocked shelves of this institution.
A great source of comfort to English families residing in Egypt, is the punctual regularity with which the European mails arrive and depart; for, besides meeting almost weekly with swarms of their countrymen and fair countrywomen flocking to and from India, they have constantly fresh news from home, and can, upon any great emergency, transport themselves from the warm clime of Egypt to their own much-loved foggy island within the fortnight. Besides this, they are continually receiving newspapers from all parts of the world possessing the advantage over England of being cognisant of Indian and Australian news a fortnight before such intelligence could reach London; and this for merchants connected by trade with both places, must naturally be of paramount importance.
During winter, the Europeans at Cairo are much given to festivities; dinner-parties and balls and soirées are then the order of the day, and great good feeling exists amongst the residents. Even private theatricals have been attempted; but it is during the Carnival that Cairo resounds with merriment, and masques and grotesque-looking figures, with torches and music, parade the streets from house to house till long after midnight, few enjoying the fun better than the native Cairines themselves. The gentlemen have shooting parties and coursing matches; the ladies ride out in the environs; they have healthy exercise, good houses, and the best of fare—all the productions of the East blended with the luxuries imported from European markets; and in this respect, as well as in conversing with and meeting more frequently ladies and gentlemen of their own nation, the English at Cairo possess advantages over the English in Syria. All the former have to complain of is the sultry heat of the weather, whilstthe latter are isolated, and bemoan their solitude and the great lack of intelligent society.
On leaving Egypt, I came back to EnglandviâMarseilles. I had barely arrived at this latter port before I again had the misfortune of coming into contact with the gendarmes. On a former occasion, as the reader may recollect, I got into a scrape by inadvertently emptying a basin of water out of the hotel window over the head and shoulders of a fiery French officer. This time I had brought with me a little parcel of tobacco, to distribute amongst a few of my friends. They wanted to make out a case of smuggling against me; but no sooner did I produce my passport, to shew that I was attached to the Turkish embassy, than these officious officials changed their conduct, and quite overpowered me with their civilities. Truly Marseilles is an unlucky place for me. I here also had a sample of the bad management of travelling in France. I took a first-class ticket direct from Marseilles to Paris by diligence. On my arrival at Lyons, I was told that I must remain until next morning, unless I consented to travel in an inferior part of the carriage. This, notwithstanding my urgent remonstrances, I was compelled to do, owing to the necessity of my being in Paris by a certain date; and, though exposed to many inconveniences, I was so fortunate as to arrive there in time. My stay at Paris was limited to a few days, and I then came on to London and delivered my despatches to his excellency our respected ambassador, who immediately recognised me as one of his suite, and who has ever since continued to treat me with the greatest urbanity. So soon as my official duties permitted, I went the round of my kind friends in London, and amongst others, was delighted to see the Honourable GeorgeMassey, my old and well-tried friend, who insisted upon my taking up my abode at his house, where I remain surrounded by every comfort and luxury that kindness and forethought can provide, and happy in the enjoyment of the society of a genuine English family.
The handsome present of horses lately sent by Abbas Pasha to the Queen of England, clearly testifies the good feeling existing between the two governments, and how much the viceroy wishes to keep up those friendly feelings so successfully cultivated and maintained. One of the horses above alluded to is of the largest and most valuable and rare breed; and there is little doubt but that the English nation will hereafter be indebted to Abbas Pasha for the possession of a breed of horses now unknown in England. The horses were sent to this country under the charge of Nubar Bey, an Armenian, a native of Smyrna, a relative of Boghas Bey, who is much esteemed by the Pasha and the Egyptians. He received a first-rate education in Europe, and speaks several of its languages with fluency; he accompanied Ibrahim Pasha on his visit to this country a few years back as interpreter-secretary, and since that time has visited several European courts on various diplomatic missions, and now holds a high appointment under the Egyptian government.
The grooms who accompanied these horses were much astonished on seeing the Queen; they could not believe that so mild and gentle a lady could be possessed of such power and influence over the whole world; they were confident she must have a most clever magician in her employ, through whose arts she had attained so elevated a rank, and won such a share of their viceroy’s admiration. When they called to see me at Cambridge-square, amongst other articles of furniture,etc., which attracted their attention and admiration, was a little mantle-piece ornament, representing the three graces, of exquisite workmanship; they immediately set these down as household gods of the English, and it was with difficulty I could convince them to the contrary, and assure them that these, in common with many other nic-nacs, were simply used as ornaments to the room. These poor fellows were very grateful for the kindness shewn them by Mr. Massey and his family, who procured for them tickets of admission to many of the most interesting sights in London; and after partaking of his hospitality, they returned in a few days to Egypt, begging me to assure my friend and his family that, if ever he chanced to travel in Egypt, they hoped to have it in their power to shew him the antiquities of that country; and, though they could not boast of so magnificent a seraijah, or such furniture, or such sumptuous fare, still a good pillaf, a chibuk of tobacco, and a finjan of coffee, should be always at his disposal. Mr. Massey was much pleased at the simple good nature of these people. Before taking leave, I asked them their opinion of England and its people. They replied, both were wonderful; but they still preferred their own native country. That the English thought but of the present, and lived for this world alone; but that they looked forward to a hereafter, in which they hoped to be amply recompensed by all the sensual enjoyments a Mahomedan paradise promises for the numerous mortifications now endured in the flesh.