THE SOUL OF A TURK.*

IfEs. DE BUNSEN has a thesis to prove—that a countless number of religious beliefs and practices 811 over the world are to be traced back to a common origin—and, hardly ever letting this thesis slip from her grasp, she has imported a unity into this collection of highly varied sketches. There is nothing here a Christian need be afraid of ; rather the Christian whose faith rests as much on the historical view as on instinct will rejoice to think that Christianity has been able to gather up, illumine, and sanctify what had guided • The Soul qf a Turk.. By Victoria de Bunsen. With Fall.page Mantra- ti one. London: John. Lane. [10e. 65. net.]

good men in the remote past. That does not, perhaps,. represent our fathers' conception of their religion ; hut if it were not possible to reconcile the tolerance which must needs. emerge from the modern study- of comparative religion,.

Christianity would not possess its glory, of perfect applica- bility to all time. Bradlaugh used to say, "Religions do nob die—they change," which wan the sceptic's glostnon the truth that progressive. knowledge is provided far in Christianity.. Neo-Platonism beat in vain against the Christian Church because it had not the divine spark, but. Christianity itself appears only broader and grander when it' performs the

similar philosophic task of reinterpreting what existed before. Christ was professedly a. reinterpreter of the Law. Who need shrink from the assertion that Christians have been able to inform even pagan customs with a radiant meaning ? Mrs. de Bunsen suggests a similarity between the Good Friday ceremonies at the Holy Sepulchre and the mourning for Hussein, and finds that the worship of Adonis is.

perpetuated in form in both Syrian an Italian Christianity. These are only examples. The basis of all religion is an elementary human need. If that be proved, so much the

better. Mrs. de Bunsen has the honour of adding something to the researches of Dr. Frazer.

Although Mrs. de Bunsen's intellectual interest lies chiefly in these studies of comparative religion, her book is a delight- fully written narrative of adventurous travel. Our readers will remember the publication some twelve months ago of By Desert Ways to Baghdad, by Mrs. Roland Wilkins. Mrs. Wilkins.

was the companion of Mrs. de Bunsen in the most risky of the five journeys about which Mrs. de Bunsen. has something

to say here. It is amusing to notice, how the two authors have handled their experiences so that there is no poaching ;

but indeed the scheme of Mrs. de Bunsen's book is very different from the other. For insight and sympathy with the Oriental mind we have not read anything better than these pages for a long time. Mrs. de Bunsen made herself "prisoner of her own language," and struggled with Turkish till she had a working knowledge of it. No dragoman ever intervened between her and the souls of the people she met.. The first sketch, "The' Soul of a Turk," is a beautiful analysis of the life of the Albanian Turk, Hassan, who acted- as bodyguard to the ladies. There was something in Hassau's nature which was derived from his Christian ancestors, and the formalism of orthodox Mohammedanism was terribly unsatisfying to him. At heart he was a mystic. He was nearly claimed as a convert by an itinerant Dervish, but he fell away from all religious feeling when his life was blighted by the loss of his two sons. A partial revelation of the- workings of Christianity as seen in the life of an English

" milord " for whose justice; firmness, and power of pity he. had conceived an admiration, and again in the simple

Christian narrative set before him by Mrs. de Bunsen, bring' him almost to the threshold of Christianity. It is the child- like element in Christianity which gives Hassan strength once more to- gaze affectionately upon children without inwardly cursing Allah for the loss of his own. Some missionaries have not achieved more in years than Itra de. Bunsen achieved in those moments when she led Hassan's thoughts to the meaning- of Bethlehem. The grace and delicacy of this sketch are remarkable. We must quote a passage in which it is related how Hassan observed, and was puzzled by, the behaviour of the English "milord" whom he accompanied on a shooting expedition :—

" But what struck Hassan most was the character of the. Englishman. The great, strong, lean man, with his long lanky legs, his huge nose and mouth, his powerful frame, his rough. home-spun coat, appealed irresistibly to the son, of the Albanian. chieftains. He looked like a man who could slay his enemies, and. was equal in strength to two ordinary men. Hassan liked his haughty imperious ways, the inflexible justice he meted out to his. servants. In. a land where wealth is synonymous with cruelty and oppression, the stainless honesty and justice of the great strong- man appealed strangely to Hassan. His hatred of cruelty too amazed him. One day one of the muleteers was kicking a lame mule which could get up no more under its enormous load. The Englishman came out of his tent with his riding-whip, gothold of the man by the neck, ani thrashed him in full view of all the

and of the mudir (governor) of the place himself, who had come to pay his call. The muleteer was a Moslem, and it is sheer madness in Turkey for a Christian of whatever race to lay hande on a Turk, but. the great man, never paused for a second when he had made up his mind to anything. He would consult neither means, nationality, nor religion. He feared no man, sometimes,. Hassan thought, not even Allah. Yet he served a god of a sort-- • that was patent. This justice, this honesty, this hatred of cruelty, what were these but his god—a god too who demanded an absolute devotion? He swept all other gods before him. Hassan had a vague feeling that if the very Prophet himself had kicked the lame mule the Englishman would have thrashed him. Yet this fearless chastisement of cruelty, this lordly indifference to local prejudices and all possible 'consequences, even the entanglement of the Turkish law-courts, when helplessness or suffering were at stake, seemed not incompatible, for the Englishman, with a supreme and overmastering desire to take the life of wild animals. To stalk the stags or wild sheep of the mountains with tireless persistency,

• this seemed to be the main object of the Englishman's life. Yet even here anall-compelling pity for pain in any form continually checked and thwarted him. On one occasion a female ntaagoa was wounded and got away. The Englishman gave himself neither food nor rest till, late at night, himself worn out, he had tracked the beast to its hiding-place and despatched it with a bullet. Pity had driven him forth, relentless, overwhelming, and Pity was his god. But it was difficult for the .peasant Turks to 'understand this trait in the Englishman's character when they saw it applied to their own women. The camp was moving up a valley one day to pitch at a spring higher up. The camp furniture was piled up in the arabas, the men were walking or riding in turns on the donkeys. On the steepest part of the path they passed a woman carrying an enormous load of sticks on her back. Behind her walked a man, unloaded, who urged on her stumbling• steps with oaths. The Englishman was walking himself, the loose limbs under the shabby coat cover- ing the ground with amazing speed. His eyes were on the ground as if he saw nothing, yet all the time no detail escaped him. He had seen the toiling woman with her load. She was only a-peasant woman, not young, very wrinkled, smelling of cnions and the dirt -of years. His face changed as he watched the couple for an instant. The peasant Turk who walked behind the woman was afraid of that look. But the Englishman pushed past him, giving him a thrust with his elbow that sent him staggering among the rocks. Then he strode on to the woman, and since he was so full of rage and anger the man expected he would do the same to her, but the hand he laid on her shoulder was gentle though peremp- tory. Startled, she paused and dropped her burden. With a strength he seldom displayed he heaved her load on to his own shoulders, and ahead of them all he strode up the mountain-side. Now Hassan, who pondered deeply, but thought slowly, realised that these things the Englishman did were done in response to some religious impulse. He never saw him pray indeed, nor even go to church, but the force which impelled this anger, this indignation, this intense pity for suffering, he recognised as the force of religion. The conscience the Englishman obeyed was lord of his life, it admitted of me .appeal. Many of his virtues were readily appreciated by Moslems, for -they were the special virtues the Koran extolled—for instance, unswerving honesty in dealing with one's fellow-men. Once, through ignorance of the local money value of a inetallik (a copper coin), the Englishman had given too little change by a halfpenny to a man who had demanded toll at a bridge in Eregli. The man had whined and protested, but they all did that, and the Englishman had swept him aside with his usual imperiousness. That night, after con- sultation with his-guide-beak, he discovered the exact value of the 'coin. The sampavasteight miles from Eregli, and the next day, Sunday, was set apart for rest. It was a broiling day, but the Englishman must needs walk into Eregli himself to rectify the fault."

Mrs. de Bunsen travelled down the Tigris on a raft, and did not-escape the usual attentions of a party of armed robbers, Few rafts cover the whole distance from Diarbekr to Mosul without being fired on. But Mrs. de Bunsen and Mrs. Wilkins, through the expedients of putting on their English hats and of having announcements of their nationality shouted to *the bank, were allowed to pass .unscathed. Mr. David Fraser tells in his last book, The short Cut to India, a more unpleasant experience which he bad at about the same part of the Tigris. So far is the Constitution from settling this quarter of the Turkish Empire that the steamers plying from Baghdad were recently carrying troops to repulse theirequent attacks made on them.

At certain towns Mrs. de Bunsen's lot was cast in pleasant places, as it was supposed that she was a Royal Princess. Her-maiden name, Miss 'Victoria 'Buxton, was responsible for this convenient misunderstanding :— "The message of the Vail cif Adana took the form of an inquiry for 'the health of the Royal Princesses and their father' His Majesty the King of Switzerland.' The problem of our Ilelvetian origin was never solved; "but 'we there discovered that a report, asserting our close connection with the Royal Family of England, was being freely circulated in the Empire. A visiting-card bear- ing Tay name and address= Miss Victoria Buxton, 2 Prince's Gate, London ?—was responsible for the myth. Was not 'Victoria' the name of 'the Royal House of England ? Was not 'Prineess ' a sufficiently obvious title? And what was 'Gate' but a further title—Royal 'Highness, in short? Henceforth to the official world of Turkey I was 'Princess Victoria.' As such I was introduced by Vali to Vail, amiwe were aaneived with Toyallhonoure at town after town."

The worst experience Mrs. de Bunsen had was when her party entered the town of Samarra without knowing where they were and were attacked by a fanatical mob. 'Smarm is one of the most sacred towns of the Shiahs, and a Christian might as well look for a pleasant reception at Mecca. Mrs. de Bunsen is so careful a writer that she is not easily to be found tripping. But surely she adopts a popular error -when she speaks of the green turban as distinguishing those who have made the journey to Mecca instead of as distinguishing the descendants of the Prophet. We thoroughly commend this book to every one who enjoys following the travels of a plucky, entertaining, and exceptionally intelligent woman.