CHAPTER XI.

Csoma’s stay in Calcutta from 1837 to 1842—Last arrangements—Leaves Calcutta for the last time—Sets out on his journey to Lassa—Death at Darjeeling—Dr. Campbell’s report—His grave and tombstone.

In April 1842, Csoma reached the fifty-eighth year of his age; but his ardour in his favourite studies and his power of hard work continued the same as in earlier days. In the early spring of that year he was planning to resume his researches and to labour for ten years longer in the East before returning to his native land. The contemplation of these plans induced him to start once more towards Tibet on a journey to Lassa.

His first knowledge of the Tibetan tongue was acquired in Ladak in the west; he now purposed visiting the north-easterly parts of Tibet proper. During the latter years he displayed great eagerness in the study of the Mahratta, Bengali, and Sanskrit languages.

On the 9th of February a letter, addressed by Csoma to the Secretary of the Asiatic Society, Mr. Torrens, may well be regarded as his testamentary disposition:—

“Sir,—Since I am about to leave Calcutta for a certain period to make a tour in Central Asia, if possible, I beg you will receive and keep this memorandum after you have communicated it to the Society.

“I respectfully acknowledge that I have received many benefits from the Asiatic Society, although I have declined always to accept the allowance of 50 rupees which they generously granted me in 1829, 1831, and 1841, since the Government allowance to me during several years was sufficient for my support. [[144]]

“I intend again to return to Calcutta and to acquaint the Society with the results of my travels. But in case of my death on my intended journey, since I sincerely wish the prosperity and pray for the long continuance of this noble establishment, I beg to leave my Government securities, as also the books and other things now taken with me, at the disposal of the Asiatic Society, delivering herewith to you my last account of the 31st January 1842, with the Government agent, who is my attorney, and with whom the Pro Notes are kept, and who will favour me once a year with interest on those papers.

“Since I purposely decline any correspondence with those in Europe, I beg you will kindly excuse me, if any letter or packet should be sent to me, to do with it as you think best.”[1]

The secretary was requested to reply to Mr. Csoma, expressing the Society’s willingness to accept the trusteeship of his funds for his benefit, assuring him of its earnest desire to forward his views in India in every possible way, and to render him any assistance, as well as of its willingness to receive any further directions as to his funds, and expressing its best wishes for his welfare and safe return from his enterprising expedition into Bhútan and Tartary. It was also determined that a copy of Mr. Csoma’s letter should be transmitted to the Government Agent.

It will always remain a matter of regret that Csoma’s determined wish was not secured in a legal manner, for the benefit of the Asiatic Society, to which he desired to bequeath all he possessed, as a token of gratitude for the benefits he received. It could hardly be expected that Csoma should be versed in legal technicalities, but these doubtless he would have been ready to attend to had he received any suggestion on the subject.

The exact date is not recorded on which Csoma left the Presidency, nor do we know the details of his journey towards Sikkim. Most probably he travelled as he [[145]]was wont, in a native boat up the river Hugly to reach the opposite shore of the Ganges, and afterwards by land, and through the Terai, in the direction of the Darjeeling range of hills. In the vicinity of Titalya, in the district of Rungpore, the level begins to rise, and the malarious sub-Himalayan belt of dense jungle has to be crossed before ascending the hills.

The Terai of the present day cannot bear comparison to what it was in Csoma’s time. To a great extent it is now laid out in carefully cultivated tea-gardens; the danger which formerly beset every traveller through that district has almost disappeared. Not many years ago the crossing of the Terai for a European was accompanied by great risk to health, and had to be performed as expeditiously as was practicable in the day-time, whilst the sun was up; and to spend a night there was certain to be followed by dangerous paroxysms of fever.

Csoma reached Darjeeling on the 24th of March. He travelled slowly and inexpensively, probably on foot. There is every reason to suspect that a night was spent by him in the Terai. Campbell says that on the 6th of April he was ill with fever, which in six days terminated fatally.

Dr. Archibald Campbell, the Superintendent and Government Agent, was the chief officer at that station. He knew Csoma by reputation for many years, and personally since they met at Captain Kennedy’s house at Simla. Every attention, therefore, that was possible was bestowed upon the patient.

The report of Csoma’s death is addressed to Mr. Bushby, secretary to Government.

Dr. Campbell wrote as follows:[2]—

“It is with much regret that I report the death at this place, on the 11th instant (April 1842), of Csoma de Körös, the Hungarian traveller and Tibetan scholar. He fell a victim to fever, contracted on his journey hitherto, [[146]]for the cure of which he would not be persuaded to take any medicines until it was too late to be of any avail.

“M. de Körös arrived here on the 24th ult. (March 1842), and communicated to me his desire of proceeding to the residence of the Sikkim Raja, and thence to Lassa, for the purpose of procuring access to stores of Tibetan literature, which he had been taught to believe, from his reading in Ladak and Kanum, were still extant in the capital of Eastern Tibet (Lassa), and might have thence found their way into Sikkim.

“As the eldest son of the Sikkim Raja is by the usage of the family a Lama, and as the present Tubgani Lama is a learned priest, and said to be in possession of an extensive library, I had some hopes that by making the Raja acquainted with M. de Körös’ unobtrusive character and known avoidance of political and religious subjects in his intercourse with the people of the countries he has visited, I might have contributed to procuring him permission to proceed into Tibet, and to this end I sent the Raja’s Vakeel to visit M. de Körös, that he might satisfy himself as to the extent to which he had prosecuted his studies into the language and literature of Tibet, as well as of the objects he had in view in desiring to visit the Tubgani Lama and the city of Lassa. The Vakeel, who is a man of intelligence and some learning, was altogether amazed at finding a Feringhee a complete master of the colloquial language of Tibet, and so much his own superior in acquaintance with the religion and literature of that country. I endeavoured to answer his numerous questions about M. de Körös by detailing the particulars of his early life and later travels in Asia, with which I was acquainted; by stating his devotion to the prosecution of his lingual and literary studies; my certain knowledge that in permitting him to visit Sikkim and Lassa the Raja would have nothing to apprehend from ignorance of the usages and religion of the people, nor an indiscreet zeal in the attainment of his objects; that he [[147]]was not at all connected with the service of our Government, or any other power in India, but that the Governor-General had granted him his permission to travel through India, and that any facilities afforded him by the Raja would be noted approvingly by his lordship and myself.

“The Vakeel at my desire addressed the Rajah, explaining fully my wishes, and M. de Körös resolved to remain here, pending a reply from Sikkim. He was full of hope as to the favourable result of the reference, and in the most enthusiastic manner would dilate on the delight he expected to derive from coming in contact with some of the learned men of the East (Lassa), as the Lamas of Ladak and Kanum, with whom alone he had previous communion, were confessedly inferior in learning to those of Eastern Tibet. He was modest and almost silent on the benefits which might accrue to general knowledge from the results of his contemplated journey; but ‘what would Hodgson, Turnour, and some of the philosophers of Europe not give to be in my place when I get to Lassa?’ was a frequent exclamation of his during the conversations I had with him previous to his illness. He had arranged, in the event of his getting permission to proceed, to leave with me all his books, papers, and bank-notes to the amount of 300 rupees, to be cared for on his behalf; and a complete copy of the ‘Journal of the Asiatic Society,’ which he had received from the Society, he said he should ask me to keep, in the event of his never returning. How soon were all his enthusiastic anticipations clouded, and his journeyings stopped for ever!

“On the 6th instant I called on him, and found him feverish, with foul tongue, dry skin, and headache. I urged him to take some medicine, but in vain. He said he had suffered often from fever and other ailments, from which he had recovered without physic; that rhubarb was the only thing of the sort he had ever used, except tartar emetic. The former had been recommended to him by Moorcroft, and the latter by a Persian doctor. [[148]]He took out of his box a small bit of decayed rhubarb and a phial of tartar emetic, and said, with apparent distrust in their virtues, ‘As you wish it, I will take some to-morrow, if I am not better; it is too late to-day, the sun is going down.’ I sent him some weak soup, and returned to see him on the 7th. He was then much better, got off his pallet, entered into conversation, chatted animatedly with me for an hour on his favourite subjects of thought and inquiry. For the first time since I had seen him, he this day showed how sensitive he was to the applause of the world as a reward to his labours and privations. He went over the whole of his travels in Tibet with fluent rapidity; and in noticing each stage of the results of his studies, he mentioned the distinguished notice that had been accorded in Europe and India to the facts and doctrines brought to light by him. He seemed especially gratified with an editorial article by Prof. Wilson in the supplement to the ‘Government Gazette’ of 9th July 1829, which he produced, and bid me read; it related to the extreme hardships he had undergone while at the monastery of Zanskar, where, with the thermometer below zero, for more than four months he was precluded by the severity of the weather from stirring out of a room nine feet square; yet in this situation he read from morning till evening without a fire, the ground forming his bed, and the walls of the building his protection against the rigours of the climate, and still he collected and arranged forty thousand words of the language of Tibet, and nearly completed his Dictionary and Grammar.[3] Passing from this subject, he said, in a playful mood, ‘I will show you something very curious,’ and he produced another number of Wilson’s paper of September 10, 1827, and pointing to one editorial paragraph, desired me to read it first, and then hear the explanation.[4] It runs thus (after [[149]]noticing some communications to the Asiatic Society from Mr Hodgson): ‘In connection with the literature and religion of Tibet, and indeed of the whole of the Bhoti countries, we are happy to learn that the patronage of the Government has enabled the Hungarian traveller, Csoma de Körös, to proceed to Upper Besarh to prosecute his Tibetan studies for three years, in which period he engages to prepare a comprehensive Grammar and Vocabulary of the language, with an account of the history and literature of the country.

“ ‘These objects are the more desirable, as we understand M. de Körös considers the recent labours of Klaproth and Rémusat, with regard to the language and literature of Tibet, as altogether erroneous. Monsieur Rémusat, indeed, admits the imperfectness of his materials, but Klaproth, as usual, pronounces ex cathedrâ, and treats the notion of any successful study of Tibetan by the English in India with ineffable contempt.’ ‘Now, I do not recollect,’ said M. de Körös, ‘that I gave my opinion of Klaproth as it is given here, but, oh! Wilson was very, very,’ and he shook his head significantly, ‘against Klaproth, and he took this opportunity to pull him down, and favour Rémusat. It is very curious;’ and he laughed heartily. Not being of the initiated in the curiosities of Tibetan literature, I did not fully appreciate the jest, but others probably will; and I was greatly interested with the keen enjoyment produced in the mind of the Ascetic by this subject.

“At the same visit he produced Hodgson’s ‘Illustrations of the Literature and Religion of the Buddhists,’ and asked me if I had seen it. On being told that I had a copy, and had been familiar with its contents in progress of collection, although unversed in the subject, he said, ‘He sent me this copy; it is a wonderful combination of knowledge on a new subject, with the deepest philosophical speculations, and will astonish the people of Europe. There are, however, some mistakes in it.’ I [[150]]think he then said: ‘In your paper on the Limboos you asked if the appellation “Hung,” distinctive of families of that tribe, had any reference to the original “Huns,” the objects of my search in Asia. It is a curious similarity, but your “Hungs” are a small tribe, and the people who passed from Asia, as the progenitors of the Hungarians, were a great nation.’ I replied, that as the original country of the Limboo ‘Hungs’ was undoubtedly north of the Himalaya, and as he believed the same to be the case as regarded the ‘Huns,’ it was at all events possible that the ‘Hungs’ of this neighbourhood might have been an offshoot from the same nation. ‘Yes, yes,’ he rejoined, ‘it is very possible; but I do not think it is the case.’ And then, as if preferring to luxuriate in remote speculations on his beloved subjects rather than in attempting to put an end to them by a discovery at hand, he gave a rapid summary of the manner in which he believed his native land was possessed by the original ‘Huns,’ and his reasons for tracing them to Central or Eastern Asia. This was all done in the most enthusiastic strain; but the texture of the story was too complicated for me to take connected note of it. I gathered, however, from his conversation of this day, and of the previous ones since our acquaintance, that all his hopes of attaining the object of the long and laborious search were centered in the discovery of the country of the ‘Yoogars.’ This land he believed to be to the east and north of Lassa and the province of Kham, and on the western confines of China. To reach it was the goal of his most ardent wishes, and there he fully expected to find the tribes he had hitherto sought in vain. The foundation of his hopes, to any one not deeply imbued with enthusiasm, or accustomed to put faith in philological affinities, will probably appear vague and insecure. It was as follows, in so far as I could gather from his repeated conversations:—In the dialects of Europe—the Sclavonic, Celtic, Saxon, and German—I believe the people who gave their [[151]]name to the country now called Hungary, were styled ‘Hunger’ or ‘Ungur,’ ‘Oongar’ or ‘Yoongar,’ and in Arabic, Turkish, and Persian works there are notices of a nation in Central Asia resembling in many respects the people who came from the East into Hungary. In these languages they are styled ‘Oogur,’ ‘Woogur,’ ‘Voogur,’ or ‘Yoogur,’ according to the pronunciation of the Persian letter; and from the same works it might be inferred, he said, that the country of the ‘Yoogurs’ was situated as above noted. There were collateral reasons which led him to this conclusion, but he did not lay much stress on them, and they have escaped my memory. It has since occurred to me, that at the time of the conversations now detailed, M. de Körös had some presentiment that death was near him, for on no former occasion was he so communicative, nor did he express opinions as if he was very anxious they should be remembered. On this day he certainly did so, and I feel it due to his memory to record them, even in this imperfect manner. To give his opinions point, it would require a knowledge of the subjects on which he discoursed, to which I cannot pretend; yet such as they are, they may, as the last words of an extraordinary man, be prized by those who honoured him for his acquirements, and admired him for his unwearied exertions in the cause of literature, languages, and history.

“Although so much better on the 7th than on the previous day, I dreaded that a return of fever was impending, and I again urged him to take medicine, but in vain. On the 8th I did not see him, but on the morning of the 9th, on visiting him with Dr. Griffith, I found that fever had returned; he was confused and slightly delirious, his countenance was sunken, anxious, and yellow, and altogether his state was bad and dangerous. After much trouble, we got him to swallow some medicine, and had his temples rubbed with blistering fluid. On the morning of the 10th he was somewhat better, but still unable to talk [[152]]connectedly or distinctly; towards evening he became comatose, and continued so until 5 A.M. of the 11th, when he expired without a groan or struggle. On the 12th, at 8 A.M., his remains were interred in the burial-ground of this station. I read the funeral service over him in the presence of almost all the gentlemen at the place.

“The effects consisted of four boxes of books and papers, the suit of blue clothes which he always wore, and in which he died, a few sheets, and one cooking-pot. His food was confined to tea, of which he was very fond, and plain boiled rice, of which he ate very little. On a mat on the floor, with a box of books on the four sides, he sat, ate, slept, and studied, never undressed at night, and rarely went out during the day. He never drank wine or spirits, or used tobacco or other stimulants.

“Annexed is a detailed list of the contents of the boxes. Among his papers were found the bank-notes for 300 rupees, to which he alluded before his death, and a memorandum regarding Government papers for 5000 rupees, which is stated in transcript of a letter to the Government, dated 8th February 1842, it was his wish to leave at his death to the Asiatic Society of Bengal for any literary purpose. Cash to the number of 224 rupees of various coinage, and a waist-belt containing 26 gold pieces (Dutch ducats, I believe), complete the money part of his effects. From this I shall deduct the funeral expenses and wages due to his Lepcha servant, and retain the remainder, along with the books and papers, until I receive the orders of Government for disposing of them. As the deceased was not a British subject, I have not made the usual advertisement of the possession of his effects, nor have I taken charge of them in the civil court, but in my capacity of political officer in this direction.

“From a letter of James Prinsep’s among the papers, I gather that he was a native of the town of Pest, or [[153]]Pesth, in the province of Transylvania,[5] and I have found transcript of a letter addressed by him to the Austrian Ambassador in London, apparently on matters connected with his native country; I presume, therefore, that the proper mode of making his death known to his relations, if such there be, and of disposing of the money not willed by him, will be through the Austrian Ambassador at the British Court. In some documents I found his address to be Körösi Csoma Sandor.”

In a footnote Mr. Henry Torrens remarks as follows: “I may add to Mr. Campbell’s interesting paper such information as my memory enables me to give of the opinion held by the deceased philologist on the origin of the Huns, which, with singular opinions on the Buddhist faith, constituted his most favourite speculations. He, on more than one occasion entered on the subject with me at great length, detailing in particular the Sanskrit origin of existing names of places and hill-ranges in Hungary. My constant request at the close of these conversations used to be that he would record these speculations. He invariably refused, alluding darkly to the possibility of his one day having it in his power to publish to the world something sounder than speculation. In proportion as I pressed him on the subject, he became more reserved with me on these particular questions. He seemed to have an antipathy to his opinions being published. I remember his giving me one day a quantity of curious speculation on the derivation of geographical names in Central Asia. Some months afterwards I had occasion to annotate on a theory of the nomenclature of the Oxus, and, writing to him, recapitulated his opinion on the subject, and begged to be allowed to publish it. His answer was that ‘he did not remember.’

“His exceeding diffidence on the subjects on which he might have dictated to the learned world of Europe and Asia was the most surprising trait in him. He was very [[154]]deeply read in general literature independently of his Tibetan lore, but never did such acquirements centre in one who made such modest use of them.”

The contents of this report were communicated to the Asiatic Society, by whom one thousand rupees was voted for the purpose of being placed into the hands of Major Lloyd that a suitable monument be erected over the grave. The inscription was approved by the Society at their meeting in February 1845, which the Secretary, Mr. H. Torrens, introduced with the following words:—

“I beg to submit the epitaph to be placed on the tomb of our lamented friend, Csoma de Körös, as approved by the committee.”

H. J.

Alexander Csoma de Körösi,[6]
A Native of Hungary,
Who, to follow out Philological Researches,
Resorted to the East;
And after years passed under privations,
Such as have been seldom endured,
And patient labour in the cause of Science,
Compiled a Dictionary and Grammar
Of the Tibetan Language,
His best and real monument.

On his road to H’Lassa,
To resume his labours,
He died at this place,[7]
On the 11th April 1842,
Aged 44 years.[8]

His fellow-labourers,
The Asiatic Society of Bengal,
Inscribe this tablet to his memory.

Requiescat in Pace.

[[155]]

Dr. Archibald Campbell’s report on Csoma’s closing days, and his subsequent memorandum,[9] will always be read with deep interest, the contents of which have been quoted already. Dr. Campbell again mentions in it Csoma’s ardent wish to reach Lassa, where, strengthened with his linguistic attainments, he formed enthusiastic hopes of realising the objects of his research. “Could he reach Lassa, he felt that Sanskrit would have quickly enabled him to master the contents of its libraries, and in them he believed was to be found all that was wanting to give him the real history of the Huns in their original condition and migrations. The power of acquiring languages was the extraordinary talent of Csoma. He had studied the following ancient and modern tongues, and was proficient in many of them: Hebrew, Arabic, Sanskrit, Pushtu, Greek, Latin, Sclavonic, German, English, Turkish, Persian, French, Russian, Tibetan, with the addition of Hindustani, Mahratta, and Bengali. His library at his death had a dictionary of each of the languages he was acquainted with, and on all were his manuscript annotations.”

These remarks, recorded by a kind friend under the influence of sorrowful sympathy, have been looked upon by many, in the absence of any other information, as the chief if not the sole clue to the proper understanding of Csoma’s whole career and aspirations. Relying on imperfect data, Csoma’s aims appeared to his critics as very illusory, if not altogether erroneous. But by any one, wishing to do justice to the memory and labours of this extraordinary man, and keeping in view his long scientific preparation, both in his own country and in Germany, to enable him to attain a special and well-defined object, Dr. Campbell’s remarks will not be regarded in any other light than what they are, and as he doubtless wished them to be regarded, namely, a graphic description of the incidents of the last scenes of a dying man. Words which were uttered by the patient between the paroxysms [[156]]of his fatal disease will not be taken as a legitimate basis upon which alone to pronounce a satisfactory judgment of a life-long career, particularly after what Dr. Campbell tells us, that “the context of the story was too complicated for me to take connected note of it.”

In the oft-mentioned letters to Captain Kennedy in 1825, Csoma expressed his opinion as to the coincidence of certain geographical names and words derived from the Sanskrit, which live to this day in the countries bordering on the Lower Danube. He spoke likewise of the country of the Huns and Yugurs on the western border of China, which, if possible, he desired to visit that he might become acquainted with the Mongol people. But he nowhere insists on any special linguistic affinity between the Magyar and the Tibetan tongues, which affinity, by itself, would have induced him to devote so much precious time to this language.

In the course of his Tibetan studies, pursued, as so often mentioned, in fulfilment of a solemn engagement towards the Indian Government, Csoma discovered, as he tells us in his second letter to Captain Kennedy, paragraph 50 and 51, that among the contents of the libraries in Tibet was to be found all that was wanting to give the real history of the Huns in their original condition and migrations. “What would Hodgson, Turnour, and some of the philosophers of Europe not give to be in my place when I get to Lassa!” was a frequent exclamation of Csoma’s during his fatal illness.[10]

To reach Lassa, therefore, and to examine the contents of the libraries there, was the proximate aim of the journey during which he died.

There can be little doubt as to what would have been the direction of his ulterior steps, supposing him to have safely reached Lassa, and there obtained what he hoped for. He would most likely have endeavored to penetrate into Mongolia and the country around it. [[157]]

No unprejudiced person, therefore, who had the opportunity of weighing all the circumstances and the actual facts, will assuredly feel justified in pronouncing a condemnation, and in showing up Csoma as one who had wandered in search of fantastic ideas, and sacrificed the labours of a long life in vain.

A few words will explain our meaning.

In a book recently published[11] we find it stated that Professor Hunfalvy, a great authority on Finnish philology, had declared that “Körösi, during his stay in Calcutta, experienced the bitterest moments of his life, being conscious (?) that up to that time he had fruitlessly looked for the origin of the Hungarians.”

Such disappointment we find nowhere alluded to by Csoma; he spoke nowhere of any bitter sorrow at the uselessness of his labours, yet such an opinion seems to have been shaped after his death.

Another great authority, Arminius Vámbéry, in a letter to Mr. Ralston, draws the conclusion that “Körösi was a victim to ‘unripe’ philological speculation, because he was looking for a nation speaking the Magyar tongue, and suffered much disappointment at not finding the looked-for relatives.”

Professor Vámbéry continues—

“And this (viz., finding Magyar-speaking relatives) was impossible for Körösi to attain, because the Magyar tongue is a mixture of an Ugrian and Turko-tatar dialect. This knowledge, however,” says Vámbéry, “is the result of recent (principally his own) investigations, and poor Körösi could have had hardly any notion of it!”

Such is the learned Professor’s judgment on Csoma in 1882.

We may mention that the Ugric and the Turko-tatar theory was strongly advocated by Vámbéry in his last great philological work. [[158]]

Summing up the preceding remarks, it may be stated that—

Firstly, we have already adduced proofs to show how scrupulously careful Csoma’s critical mind was not to run into philological or any other speculations. He guards himself very distinctly against such when he says, “I was much perplexed by Dr. Gerard’s letter to me. In my answer I would not enter into the wide field of speculation.”[12] Henry Torrens speaks of it,[13] and Dr. Malan is very positive on the subject[14] when he says, “Csoma did not scrutinise the intricacies of hypotheses; he had too much sense for that.”

Secondly, no proof can be found anywhere among Csoma’s writings of his having searched after a people in Asia “speaking the Magyar tongue.” Such a theory may have been propounded by idle literary speculators or elated enthusiasts on his behalf, as was recently done in Count Béla Széchényi’s case, but a childlike chimera of the sort cannot be laid to his charge unless proof positive exists that he enunciated such an opinion and design, and persevered in it to the end.

Thirdly, the position of the Hungarian tongue in reference to the Finnish, the Ugric, and the Turko-tatar dialects is far from being settled yet by the philologists. Moreover, Csoma’s studies and labours moved in an entirely different philological and ethnographical sphere from that to which these several dialects belong. No critic who was not able to pay due attention to a field of research on which Csoma laboured, namely, the Indian, the Sanskrit, and the Tibetan languages, could be expected to understand and to appreciate his ideas, motives, and conclusions as they deserve, nor yet claim the right to pronounce final judgment upon his merits. Nevertheless, an opinion stands on record that Csoma’s philological views are not considered by his countrymen as “deserving [[159]]serious consideration.”[15] But this is only in the Finnish and Turko-tatar direction, in which the special studies of these critics lay, being quite distinct from those of Csoma, which, by the way, have not as yet been inquired into by them. It is not fair towards a thoroughgoing student such as Csoma was to treat his labours in an off-hand manner, and to misinterpret the tendency of his thoughtful conclusions.

Csoma was filled, as every earnest investigator should be, with a never-flagging devotion to his object; but he was not a dreamer, as some of his least-informed critics seem to wish to suggest that he was. All his philological deductions were based on carefully selected data, which he always adduced.

Impelled by a noble devotion to historical and philological science, he set out unaided on his solitary journey to the East, endeavouring to penetrate into the northern parts of the Chinese Empire, especially into Mongolia and the surrounding countries, his sole object being to study, from a Hungarian point of view, several yet unsolved ethnological and historical problems, hoping that his labours generally might be found useful by posterity, whose appreciation he looked for as his only reward. As long as life was spared him he remained faithful to this purpose, worthy to be followed up still by any one really competent for the task.

Step by step, cautiously and with deliberation for two-and-twenty years, he directed his efforts among difficulties which would have driven a less heroic mind to despair, and yet with a modesty and ready self-sacrifice quite exceptional. When we consider the physical difficulties alone, we find that Csoma traversed greater distances than did any other traveller before him or since under similar circumstances.

The memory of Körösi’s uncomplaining endurance, unselfishness, and modesty will ever remain recorded [[160]]among the pioneers of philology, and be cherished with gratitude in his native land.

What other tribute indeed but that of admiration and reverence could be rendered to such a labourer!

Even among the people and the high ecclesiastics of Tibet the fame of the Hungarian scholar lived for many years after him. The name of “Philangi Dàsa,” the European disciple, as he was affectionately called there, has been mentioned with appreciation to Dr. Leitner, who in 1866 had an interview at Pukdal with the Abbot of the Monastery in which Csoma lived. Judging from Dr. Leitner’s report, we find that Csoma’s sympathetic individuality left a lasting impression behind him, and when the Tibetans heard that Leitner was a fellow-countryman of Csoma’s, he was received with every mark of attention, and the Abbot offered to conduct Dr. Leitner safely to Lassa, leaving, if desired, his two sons as hostages in the hands of the Government. As, however, Dr. Leitner was not prepared to accept the unlooked-for offer, the Abbot was willing to extend it to any other European who may be actuated by the same love and devotion to philological researches as Csoma had been.

This circumstance was repeatedly brought to public notice by Dr. Leitner, but no advantage has as yet been taken of an opportunity so favourable to linguistic and perhaps political objects.

In the Székler land, his native province, Csoma’s memory lives in affectionate remembrance.

The Kenderessy-Csoma Scholarship, founded by him at the College of Nagy Enyed, is administered in accordance with his wishes. Csoma’s relations made an endowment at the village school of Körös, at which, as a child, he learned his first lessons. The yearly proceeds of this sum are devoted partly to purchasing of books, and partly to improve the stipend of the schoolmaster. There is a third memorial also, namely, the donation made by Csoma in 1836 to the Military Institute of Kézdi-Vásárhely. [[161]]After the historical events of 1849 the funds of this Institute were amalgamated with those of the College of Szent György; towards this the Emperor-King, Francis-Joseph, contributed ten thousand florins. Csoma’s money is administered in a separate account there, and the yearly proceeds are divided among the most industrious scholars, each prize-book being marked with the founder’s name.

“I have no doubt,” adds Baron Orbán Balázs, “that a day will come when a better future dawns upon our country, and when past omissions and neglect will be made good, and then a substantial monument will rise to the imperishable memory of Alexander Csoma de Körös.”

We heartily add our Amen. May it be so!

The contents of the four boxes mentioned by Dr. Campbell, constituting Csoma’s travelling library, were as follows:—

1st Box.

Total 13 volumes.

A medicine-box.

2d Box.

[[162]]

3d Box.

Tibetan Grammar; Mahabharata, 4 volumes; Raja Tarangini; Susrita; Naishada Charita; four Bengali pamphlets.

4th Box.

N.B.—The blue dress was given to his Lepcha servant.

[[163]]

[1] See “Proceedings of the Asiatic Society of Bengal,” 4th March 1842. [↑]

[2] See “Journal Asiatic Society of Bengal,” vol. xi. [↑]

[3] See page 80 et seq., ante. [↑]

[4] See Government Gazette of that date. [↑]

[5] This is evidently a mistake. [↑]

[6] This should be, de Körös, without the terminal i. See page 9, ante. [↑]

[7] Darjeeling, in British Sikkim. [↑]

[8] This is a mistake, as he was born in April 1784. [↑]

[9] “Journal Asiatic Society of Bengal,” vol. xiv. p. 823. [↑]

[10] See Dr. Campbell’s Report, page 147, ante. [↑]

[11] Ralston’s “Tibetan Tales.” Trübner & Co., London, 1882. Introduction, p. 21 et seq. [↑]

[12] See chap. v., p. 77. [↑]

[13] See chap. xi., p. 153. [↑]

[14] See “Journal Royal Asiatic Society,” vol. xvi., p. 493. [↑]

[15] Ralston, op. cit. [↑]

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