While in the sultan's realm, we learned something of the cruelty practiced by his officials—let us hope without his knowledge—for while he is responsible for the conduct of his appointees he may not know all the evil done in his name. Not long ago a young student was arrested and imprisoned because a paper was found in his house which contained Gladstone's statement that the sultan was an assassin. It was only a scrap of paper and had been given him because the other side contained an advertisement for a hair restorer and he, in taking the paper to his house, did not know of the offensive quotation. Another young man was kept in prison until he died because a book was found in his possession containing a picture of the sultan under which some one, unknown to him, had written the word dog. A third man was arrested because in ordering an engine he sent a telegram containing the words: "Seventy revolutions." In his original order he neglected to state the number of revolutions and sent the telegram in answer to an inquiry. A fourth man was imprisoned because he received a telegram inquiring about a burglary, the authorities mistaking the word "burglary" for the word "Bulgaria," where the authorities were expecting an uprising. These instances—and we heard of many more—are given simply to show that the citizen of Turkey is in constant danger of imprisonment, however innocent he may be of any intention to violate the law.
But it is in the realm of the censor that the most amusing cases have occurred. The officials are destroying a great many books just now in Turkey and are very careful about the introduction of new ones. Recently the wife of a justice of the peace, frightened by the confiscation of books in the houses of her neighbors, thought to avoid all possible danger by burning her husband's library, but her hope was vain for her husband was arrested as a dangerous character on the ground that he must have had a library. As he was holding a judicial position the fact that he no longer had books was a sufficient ground for suspicion.
Religious publications are subjected to very strict censorship. Sunday school lessons have been cut out because they quoted from the Old Testament in regard to the killing of kings and the word "Christian" is often added before sinners in order to make the text exclude Mohammedans. A Sunday school lesson about Joash, the Boy King, was objected to because the authorities did not think it proper to suggest that a boy could be king. The above are actual cases, but they have given rise to jokes that go a little farther. For instance, they say that dynamos are not allowed in Turkey because the name sounds like dynamite and that chemistries have been excluded because the formula for water, "H2O," is suspected of meaning, "Hamud II is a cypher."
I have had a little experience with a censor myself. At Beyrout, one of the Turkish ports, a copy of the Koran and a copy of the Life of Abbas Effendi were taken from me by the censor. I had no objection to his holding them during my stay in the country, but when he informed me that they would have to be sent to Constantinople I demurred, and with the aid of our representative, Consul General Bergholz, not only secured the books, but secured a promise that the right of American citizens to carry books would not in the future be interfered with at that port.
In conclusion, I desire to add that we ought to have an ambassador instead of a minister at Constantinople. According to the custom prevailing in the sultan's realm, a minister is not on equal footing with ambassadors, and as other nations have ambassadors there American interests suffer. We have eighteen cases now awaiting adjustment. According to our law our appointment of an ambassador to any country depends upon that country's willingness to send an ambassador to us. This is a false basis. Our action should not depend upon what other nations do, but upon our diplomatic needs, and we need an ambassador at Constantinople whether Turkey needs one at Washington or not. I understand that the question is already being considered in congress, and from observation I am satisfied that the time has come for the raising of our legation to the dignity of an embassy, that American interests and the rights of American citizens may have proper protection in Turkey, for nowhere is there greater need for the introduction of American ideas.[8]
CHAPTER XXXV.
HUNGARY AND HER NEIGHBORS.
Southeastern Europe is out of the line of travel and little known to us, if I can measure the knowledge of others by my own. In order to learn something of this section we came northwest from Constantinople through Bulgaria, Servia and Hungary. We passed through European Turkey in the night, and morning found us in Bulgaria, where nothing but an occasional minaret remained to remind us of the Orient. Strange that so great a difference exists between two populations separated for centuries by nothing but an imaginary line. No more the Turk with his wealth of leisure, his baggy trousers and his gay headgear, but the sturdy peasant working in the field with his unveiled wife or trudging along the road carrying his produce to market; no more begging for baksheesh by lame and halt and blind, but a busy, industrious throng, each laboring apparently with a purpose and a hope. All day long we rode past well cultivated fields and tidy villages. The Bulgarians, judged by appearance, might be thought a mixture of German and Italian, but they are really Slavic in their origin. I had the good fortune to meet a former minister, a very intelligent man with a good command of English, and learned from him that there is a strong democratic sentiment in that country and that the people are making constant progress in the matter of education and political intelligence.