CITY OF TEBRIZ.

My Armenian companions ordered a modest cell for me, and, as they had already reached their place of destination, they parted, with the promise of returning the next day and installing themselves as my guides through their native city. I sat down at the door of my narrow little room and remained there until late in the evening, partly to take some rest after my previous fatigues, partly to watch the life stirring about me. Very soon, true to the custom of their country, a curious crowd gathered around me; by some I was taken to be a merchant and was offered goods by them, by others a money changer and was asked if I had any Imperiales or Kopeks which I wished to exchange; others, again, offered me their services, judging me by my attire to be a member of the embassy of Teheran. It is wearisome work for a newly-arrived stranger at a caravansary, this being catechised from all sides.

STUDY OF THE SHI-ITE SECT.I passed two entire weeks in Tebriz; I desired to rest after the fatigues of my long journey, making, at the same time, excellent use of my leisure in studying the peculiarities of the Shi-ite sect, a study which revealed to me a great deal that was novel and interesting. I did so with all the more pleasure as my uninterrupted stay, for many years, among all the Sunnite circles, my perfect knowledge of their modes of life, customs, and dispositions, had especially fitted me for instituting relevant comparisons.

I had been often told that the Shi-ites were the Protestants of Islam, and their superior intelligence and industry led me to at one time share this supposition. I was therefore quite astonished to find, on the very day of my arrival, wherever I turned, instances of a fanaticism far more savage, and of a sanctimoniousness far more glaring, than I had ever met with in Turkey. First of all I was disagreeably impressed with the reserve and spirit of exclusiveness shown by the Persians towards Europeans. They are commanded by their law, for instance, in case the hem of a European's garment but happens to touch the dress of a Persian, that the Persian immediately becomes nedjiz, that is, unclean, and must forthwith resort to a bath to regain his purity. My faith in their cleanliness, of which they were so fond of boasting, very soon received a rude shock, in witnessing the following scene. HOLY WATER.In the centre of the yard of the caravansary, as everywhere else, is placed a basin full of water, originally intended for the performance of ritual lavations, but, as I was watching their proceedings at the basin, I saw that whilst at one side of the reservoir some were washing their dirty things, others placing half-tanned skins into the same water for soaking, and a third was cleansing his baby, there were standing men on the opposite side of the basin, gravely performing their religious washings with the identical water, and one of them, who must have been very thirsty indeed, crouched down and eagerly drank of the dark green fluid. I could not repress at the sight a manifestation of loathing. A Persian, standing near, immediately confronted me and reproved me for my ignorance. He asked me if I did not know that according to the Sheriat (the holy law) a quantity of water, in excess of a hundred and twenty pints, turns blind, that is, it cannot become soiled or unclean.

In mentioning their fanaticism I cannot omit citing a remarkable instance of it in the person of one of their wonderful dervishes. This man happened to pass just then through Tebriz, and was an object of general admiration at the bazaar. He was thoroughly convinced that the divinity of the Caliphate, after the death of Mohammed, ought, by right, to have devolved upon Ali, Mohammed's son-in-law, and not upon Abubekr, the prophet's brother-in-law. Acting upon this conviction, he had solemnly vowed, more than thirty years before, that he would never employ his organs of speech otherwise but in uttering, everlastingly, the name of his favourite, Ali! Ali! He thus wished to signify to the world that he was the most devoted partisan of that Ali who had been defunct more than a thousand years. In his own home, speaking with his wife, children and friends, no other word but "Ali!" ever passed his lips. If he wanted food or drink, or anything else, he expressed his wants still by repeating "Ali!" Begging or buying at the bazaar it was always "Ali!" Treated ill or generously, he would still harp on his monotonous "Ali!" Latterly his zeal assumed such tremendous proportions that, like a madman, he would race, the whole day, up and down the streets of the town, throwing his stick high up into the air, and shriek out, all the while, at the top of his voice, "Ali!" This dervish was venerated by everybody as a saint, and received everywhere with great distinction. The wealthiest man of a town presented him once with a magnificent steed, saddle, bridle and all. He immediately vaulted into the saddle and sped along the streets uttering his customary fierce cry. The colour of his dress was either white or green, and the staff he carried corresponded in colour with the dress he wore. When he came to the front of the Emir Caravansary, he stopped and lifted his voice, midst the frightful din of the bazaar, with such tremendous power, shouting "Ali! Ali!" that the veins on his head and neck started out like strings.

After passing a few days at Tebriz, it dawned upon me that this, indeed, was genuine Eastern life, and that distant Stambul, the gaudily painted curtain of the Eastern world, presented but a tame and lifeless and somewhat Europified picture of the Orient. True, after the first excitement at the great variety of wonderful sights was over, my mind immediately reverted to the sweets of Western life, and right glad was I, therefore, to meet, at the caravansary, with two Swiss gentlemen of culture, Mr. WÜrth and Mr. Hanhardt. They at once insisted upon my moving my quarters to their lodgings, but I declined with thanks, availing myself, however, at times, of their cordial invitation to take my meals with them. Through them I became acquainted with other Europeans residing here, and it was to me a source of great delight to change about, and after having passed with Europeans a considerable time discussing Western ideas and conversing in a Western tongue, all of a sudden to become an Effendi again in some Persian society. My fancy was tickled by this almost theatrical transition from the East to the West and back again; I used to indulge in this pastime with great pleasure while in Stambul.

The Persian world rather wondered at my intimacy with the Europeans, but refrained from making any comments upon it to me, knowing that the Sunnites, to whom I was supposed to belong, were far less rigorous than the Shi-ites in their intercourse with persons differing from them in faith. If my European friends communicated to me their views of certain local institutions and customs, I did not accept them unconditionally; I looked at them, again, in the light shed upon them by the observations and feelings of the natives on the subject. Should some kind reader wish to rebuke me for my seeming double-facedness, I have only to say that I shall meekly submit to it, but that, at the same time, I am indebted to the acting of this double part for the satisfaction I had in obtaining a proper insight into native life, and being able to gather many and varied experiences about the nations of the East, from the Bosphorus to Samarkand.

It was here, in the Caravansary Emir, that I met with a rather curious adventure, which I must relate. One afternoon, whilst the heat was rather unbearably strong, I sat at the door of my cell, and engaged myself, as is usual with dervishes, in delivering my linen of certain animals which intrude upon the poor traveller in the East in spite of all his efforts after cleanliness. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.Two Englishmen, whom I recognized by their Indian hats, and who were strolling in the caravansary, stopped suddenly before me, and after admiring for a while my patient and untasteful occupation, the younger one said to the older, "Look at the hunting zeal of this fellow!" I raised my eyes and said in English, "Will you join, sir?" Amazed, nay bewildered, one of them immediately asked me, "How did you learn English, and what countryman are you?" From reasons formerly explained, I abstained from a further conversation, and notwithstanding all the exertions, I did not utter another English word, nay, withdrew altogether to the interior of my cell.

Years passed, and after returning to Europe I happened to be at an evening party in the house of an English nobleman at Whitehall. Whilst at dinner I recognized in one of the guests present my interlocutor of Tebriz, but unsure of my discovery I did not address him. After dinner, however, the lady of the house asked me to relate something of my perilous adventures, and seeking courage, I asked her to introduce me to the man in whom I supposed a former acquaintance. "Oh, that is Lord R——," said the lady. "Well, I don't know his name, but I have seen him," was my answer. Lord R—— received me politely, but denied the fact of a former acquaintance. Upon my saying, "My lord, you have been to Tebriz, and you do not remember the dervish who addressed you in English?" The extraordinary surprise of Lord R—— was indescribable; he recognized me at once, and related the whole adventure to the highly amused company.

The days I spent in Tebriz passed quickly and pleasantly owing to my intercourse being partly with Europeans and not being exclusively confined to Asiatics. While I was there, an interesting festival took place, to which I succeeded in obtaining admission. A ROYAL INVESTITURE.The solemn investiture of the recently nominated Veli Ahd (heir apparent to the throne) gave me an opportunity of gazing upon the pageant and pomp of the Orient in all its splendour. Muzaffar-ed-din Mirza, the son of the king, now nine years old, but who, according to the custom of the country, had been elected, in his childhood, successor to the throne, was to be publicly invested with the Khalat, the royal parade robe. The whole town was on the alert. The festival lasted several days, and when, on its first day, I entered through the gate of the Ala Konak (the royal residence), which was surrounded by a dense crowd of people, into the interior court, my curiosity rose to the highest pitch. What a strange contrast of squalor and splendour, of pomp and misery! There, in the covered hall, opposite the gate, were seated the grandees of the land, and amongst them the prince with the principal officers of his household. Every face wore a solemnly grave expression, and the bearing of their manly forms, wrapped in flowing garments, the dignified motion of their arms, the proud carriage of their heads, everything indicated that they were well versed in the art of exhibiting a public pageant. Around the interior of the court were ranged two lines of serbasses (soldiers), sad-looking fellows, in European uniforms and with Persian fur caps on their heads, looking as uncomfortable and awkward as possible in their foreign clothes. The most comical things about them were their cravats, some tied in front, others at the back, and others again anywhere between those two points.

One of the sides of the garden was entirely occupied by loaves of sugar and various Persian cakes and sweetmeats, which it is the custom to place upon huge wooden platters, and without which any festive occasion in Persia would be considered incomplete.

In the centre rose the throne, upon which the young boy-prince, looking feeble and pale, took his seat, surrounded by his splendid retinue. When he was seated, the loud booming of cannon was heard, the military band struck up a martial march, and immediately afterwards appeared the royal envoy bearing the robe of honour, which he placed upon the shoulders of the young prince in token of his new dignity. The envoy then produced the insignia of the diamond order of Shir-Ú-Khurshid, fastened it upon the breast of the princely heir apparent, concluding the ceremony by suddenly removing a costly carpet which had concealed the portrait of the king, painted in oil upon canvas. At this moment the whole company rose to their feet; the young prince rushed forward and imprinted a kiss upon the portrait, which was then immediately covered up again with the carpet. Upon the prince returning to his seat from the ceremony of osculation, the deafening roar of cannon and the swelling sounds of music were heard again. A high priest came forward and invoked a blessing upon the prince, the royal order was loudly proclaimed, and finally a young poet stepped forward, and, taking a seat opposite to the prince, recited to his glorification a Kascide (glorifying song). The proceedings of the young poet were quite new to me, and struck me even more than the bombastic tenor of his poetical effusion. He compared the prince to a tender rose, to the brilliant sun, and finally to a precious pearl fished out of the sea of the royal family, and destined to become now the most precious ornament in the crown of Iran. Then he called him a powerful hero, who with a single blow of his sword destroys whole armies, at whose glance the mountains tremble, and the flame of whose eyes makes the rivers run dry.

The prince then joined the great lords, who were in the background, and the sweetmeats were removed from the enormous platters and divided amongst the guests present, the master of ceremonies expressing to each of them, besides, his thanks for their appearance. And, now, the pageant was over.

These festivities were followed by the reception of Cerutti, the Italian ambassador, who, at the head of an embassy consisting of twenty-five members, was passing through Tebriz, on his way to Teheran. Their arrival caused a great ferment both amongst the members of the native government and the European colony. The former, the Persian officials with the viceregent Serdar-Aziz-Khan, at their head, were delighted to have an opportunity afforded them to indulge in their passionate fondness for display, and the latter were gratified to set their eyes upon the representatives of the new Italian kingdom. I joined the latter in order to be present at the reception. In the early morning of a sultry day in June we rode out of the town, a distance of about two hours, to meet them, and when we came up to them they were just changing their dresses. They wished to appear before the Persians in full parade, and it took considerable time for twenty-five Europeans, diplomatists, military men, merchants, and men of science, to accomplish the task of donning their best attire. It was not far from noon, the heat being intolerable, when these gentlemen entered the gates of the town, in their highly ornamental uniforms and costumes, their breasts resplendent with the insignia of the various orders, in plumed helmets and magnificent swords. Of course the sight was to us Europeans a very attractive one, but wishing to hear the opinion of the natives, I left my company and mixed with the crowd. During the whole procession I heard nothing but ironical remarks, the Persians looking upon things considered by us splendid, as ridiculous. According to their notions, our short coats, fitting the body, are the most indecorous things, without any taste, and everything plain, tightfitting, and unassuming in dress looks to them mean and insignificant. Their idea of the beautiful in dress consists in what is ample, flowing in rich folds and showy. Their prudery and mock modesty make them regard as indecent any mode of dressing which sharply defines the limbs and outlines of the human body, whilst Europeans affect that style, and thereby rouse the displeasure of the Asiatics. They also criticise the stiff carriage of the Europeans on horseback, and in this they are not far from wrong, for the European with his protruding chest looks like a caricature besides one who sits with easy grace, yet proudly, on his steed.

AN OVERWORKED EMBASSY.The Embassy, on the day of their arrival, were worked very hard indeed. For two hours they were dragged through the town, in every possible direction, in order to gratify the curiosity of the populace. When they got at last to the place assigned to them for their residence, they were far from being allowed to rest. For three whole days they were besieged by a host of polite visitors, each of them attended by a troop of servants who were to bring back to their master's house, in return, the ampler and more valuable presents which they expected to receive from the Embassy.

The roads leading from Tebriz into the interior of Persia were fairly swarming with caravans and troops of travellers. I, therefore, deemed the roads sufficiently safe, and resolved to continue alone my journey to the capital of the country, accompanied only by a tcharvador, a man who lets horses and animals of burden for hire. I hired from him a rather sorry-looking nag, corresponding to the modest sum I paid for its use, placed my scanty baggage on it, and said good-bye to Tebriz.