It was not to be expected that the immense progress made by Greece during the past half century in education would exercise no influence upon the Greeks in Turkey. The people of the kingdom of Greece, secure of their own freedom, released from that servile condition to which centuries of oppressive misrule had reduced them, and become citizens of a liberty-loving country, have for the past twenty years been using every effort to promote the cause of liberty by the spread of education among their brethren still in subjection to the Porte. When the Turks conquered the Greek provinces, they did their best to extinguish education among their Christian subjects: the Greek schools were suppressed, new ones prohibited, and the Greek children had to be taught during the night.[36] But the monasteries, nests of ignorance and vice as they were, were the principal refuges of letters. Scattered all over the empire, they enjoyed the privileges drawn from the special liberty and favor granted by the wise Sultan to the Greek clergy. This was done by the Sultan with the view of acquiring unlimited control over the Greek rayahs, by giving a just sufficient amount of power to a small but influential body of men, to induce them to support his designs. Mount Athos, one of these privileged asylums, became a famous resort of the retired clergy. A college of some merit was also established on this monastic spot for affording secular instruction to Greek youths. At Phanar, the secluded refuge of the Greek noblesse, in right of their privileges, education among the higher classes was promoted. For a long time this was the only place Constantinople could boast as supplying men of letters, some of whom, being conversant with foreign languages, were employed in European embassies as interpreters. Within the last fifty years the educational movement among the Greeks of Turkey has altered its course. Some schools established in the country afforded elementary instruction to the children, but, for the most part, they were now sent to Athens and Syra to complete their studies, where numerous schools and colleges afforded them the means of acquiring a perfect knowledge of their own language and a tolerably good general education. This migration, perseveringly continued for nearly thirty years, increased the number of these Athenian and Syraote establishments, and the pecuniary benefit they derived from it enabled them to perfect their organization. Politics and learning were two essential elements of education, which the modern Greeks uphold with a tenacity worthy of final success. The young Greek rayah, sent to Athens, returns to his home a scholar and a staunch Philhellene, burning with an all-absorbing desire to instil his ideas and feelings into the minds of his fellow rayahs. Such currents flow slowly but surely among a population that, debased as it may be by a foreign yoke, has a history and literature of its own to look back to. The first students returning from Greece were the pioneers of the immense progress that education has lately made among the Greeks in Turkey. None can realize and testify to this better than those who have watched its introduction and development in the interior. As I stated in another part of this work, even the élite of the Greek society of Broussa thirty years ago had lost the use of their mother-tongue, replacing it by broken Turkish. Since then, the introduction of schools has been the means of restoring the use of their own language to the great majority of the people, though one portion of the town is still ignorant of it, in consequence of the profitable occupation the silk factories afford to girls, who are sent there from a very early age, instead of going to school. The inhabitants of the surrounding villages, in all of which Greek schools have now been established, have learnt their national language—a proof that although the general attention of the Greeks has naturally first been directed to promoting education in Thessaly, Macedonia, and Epirus, the scattered colonies left on the Asiatic side have not been altogether forgotten or neglected; they have now good colleges in Smyrna, and schools in less important towns and villages.

The Greek village of Demerdesh, between Broussa and the seaport Moudania, merits special praise for the wonderful progress, both mental and material, it has made. It is refreshing to see the intelligent features of the inhabitants of this village, and their independent and patriotic disposition. One thinks involuntarily of some of the ancient Greek colonies that from small beginnings rose to great power and created for themselves a noble history.

At Constantinople the Greeks possess several rapidly improving educational establishments for both sexes. The Syllogus, too, a literary association for the promotion of learning, has been lately instituted in all the large towns of Turkey. Some years ago I was travelling with the head mistress of the girls’ school at Epibatæ, in the district of Silivri, near Constantinople—an institution which owes its origin and maintenance to the generosity and philanthropy of Doctor Sarente Archegenes, a native of the place, who, having acquired just reputation and wealth in the capital, did not forget his native village, but furnished the means for building and maintaining a school for girls in 1796. This mistress was a clever and well-educated lady from Athens, and she described to me her pleasure at the quickness displayed by these peasant girls in their studies. The only drawback, she remarked, to this work of progress is the absence of a similar establishment for the boys, who, all charcoal-burners by trade, ignorant and uncouth, are rejected as husbands by the more privileged sex. I believe since then the evil has been removed by the establishment of a boys’ school. How much more beneficial to humanity was the establishment of these institutions than that of the one founded by Mehemet Ali Pasha of Egypt at Cavalla, his native place. Desiring to benefit his country with some of the wealth acquired in Egypt, he requested the people of Cavalla to choose between a school and a charitable establishment or Imaret: the former was meant to impart light and civilization among them, the latter to furnish an abode for fanatical Softas, and daily rations of pilaf and bread for three hundred individuals. The Cavalla Turks did not hesitate between the mental and material food; and shortly after a substantial edifice was erected, its perpetual income helping to maintain a number of indolent persons within its walls, and feed the refuse of the population that lazily lounged about outside, waiting for the ready food that rendered labor unnecessary.

The wealthy Greek families at Constantinople are now giving special attention to the education of their children; the girls appear, more especially, to have profited by it, for the Greek ladies, as a class, are clever, well-informed, and good linguists, well bred and extremely pleasant in the intimacy of their social circles. Most of them are musicians, as the phrase is, some even attaining to excellence. A French lady told me she had heard a French ambassador state as his opinion that the best and most enlightened society in the capital was the Greek; but it was so exclusive that an easy admission into it was a privilege not to be enjoyed even by an ambassador. I may state that my personal experience allows me to coincide with this view. The men, absorbed in business, and perhaps still bearing the cachet of some of those faults that prejudice is ever ready to seize upon and exaggerate, are less refined and agreeable in society than the women. Gifted men, however, and men of a high standard of moral integrity and good faith, are not rare among them; and the munificence of such men as Messrs Zarifi, Christaki, Zographo, Baron Sina, and many others, in encouraging the advancement of education, and helping in the relief of the poor in time of want and distress, has entitled them to the gratitude of their nation.

Some time ago I was invited to attend the μνημόσυνα, an anniversary at the girls’ school at Salonika, in remembrance of its chief benefactress Kyria Castrio. A large cake, iced and decorated with various devices, was placed on a table facing the portrait of this lady, which, garlanded with flowers, appeared to look on smilingly and contentedly, encircled by a ring of young girls. The room was densely crowded with guests and the relatives of the children. Presently a great bustle was heard, and the crowd opened to give passage to the dignified, intellectual-looking Bishop, accompanied by his clergy, who quietly walked up to the cake, and read mass over it for the benefit of the soul of the departed lady. This ceremony concluded, he amiably shook hands with some of the company nearest to him, and took his seat at the rostrum used for lectures. It was now the turn of the young girls to express their gratitude to the memory of her to whose kind thought and generosity they owed in great part the education they were receiving. This was conveyed in a hymn composed for the occasion, and rendered with much feeling and expression, under the able direction of a young German master, who, for the love of the art in general, and the Greek nation in particular, had kindly undertaken to give free lessons in vocal music to the girls. Some of the elder girls looked very pretty, and all seemed bright and intelligent. The little ones, mustering in a company of two hundred, were next marched up in a double row, clasping each other round the waist. It was a pretty sight to see these little mites assembled round the chair of the paternal Bishop, keeping time with their feet to the tune, and singing their little hymn. This interesting ceremony was concluded by a long lecture, from one of the masters of the establishment, delivered in Greek. The profound attention with which all listened to it was a proof that it was understood and appreciated. These Mnemosyné are held annually in many towns, and even in secluded villages, in memory of charitable persons who have founded or largely endowed their schools.

While on the subject of the Salonika girls’ school, I may as well go on with it, and describe its organization, the course of studies followed in it, and the immense benefit it has proved to the community. Tedious as such a description is, it may be useful in giving an idea of the many other similar institutions scattered throughout the country. The building, formerly I believe a Turkish Konak, is in itself rather dilapidated: it consists of two spacious halls, into which open a number of class-rooms.

I inspected the classes, and was much pleased to find that the teachers ably and conscientiously fulfilled their duties, and that the pupils apparently did them great credit. The following is a list of the subjects taught by a lady principal and two professors:

The infant schools contained two hundred scholars, who were seated on a gallery; four pupil teachers, two on each side, were keeping order, and the mistress was giving the lesson of the day, illustrating it by one of the many colored pictures that decorated the walls of the apartment. The lesson, explained by the teacher, is repeated by the children in chorus, who are afterwards questioned. The system followed in this school appears to me the most successful and appropriate way of teaching young children, whose minds, impressed by the object-lessons, and diverted by the variety of the exercises they are made to perform, are better able to understand and retain the knowledge imparted to them. A lady, recently arrived from Europe, who takes a great interest in schools, told me that few establishments of this kind in Europe could boast of better success.

The rudiments of the following lessons are taught: Reading; elementary geography; history; moral lessons; object-lessons; infantile songs and games.

During our visit to the girls’ school we stopped before each class, and a few girls were called out and examined by the master or mistress presiding over their studies. All these girls were intelligent in appearance, seemed well conversant with the subject in question, and were ready with their answers. Arithmetic and mathematics generally were the only branches of study in which they appeared deficient; but on the whole the instruction (unfortunately limited to the Greek language for want of funds) is excellent. The needlework, both plain and ornamental, is copied from models brought from Paris, and the girls show as much skill in this department as they do aptitude for study in others.

I questioned the directress on the general conduct and morality of the girls, and she gave me the best account of both. No distinction is made between the rich and poor; they sit side by side in the same class, a custom which, in countries where education is more developed, would be intolerable, but which, for the present, in a place where class distinctions are not so great, tends to improve the manners of the lower without prejudice to those of the upper. The opinion of the schoolmistress was, that the girls of Salonika, whilst more docile and more easily managed, were not less intelligent than the Athenian girls, whose more independent spirit often occasioned trouble in the schools.

From this establishment has been formed a training school for girls who wish to become school-mistresses; six professors instruct in the following subjects:

Seven female students obtained their diplomas this year (1877), and were sent into the interior, where in their turn they will be called upon to impart light and knowledge to the girls of some little town or village.

During my travels I have often come across these provincial schools, and found much pleasure in conversing with the ladylike, modest young Athenian women, who had left home and country to give their teaching and example to their less-favored sisters in Turkey. I remember feeling a special interest in two of these, whom I found established in a flourishing Greek village in a mountainous district of Macedonia.

I was invited into their little parlor, adjoining the school. It was plain but very neat, and the scantiness of the furniture was more than atoned for by the quantity of flowers and the many specimens of their clever handiwork. The Chorbadji’s wives, some of them wealthy, doted upon these girls, who were generally looked up to and called Kyria (lady); each wife vying with the other in copying the dresses and manners of these phenomenal beings transplanted into their mountain soil. The children, too, seemed devoted to their teachers, and delighted in the instruction given them, while the men of the village showed them all respect, and seemed to pride themselves on the future benefit their daughters and sisters would derive from the teachings and good influence of these ladies.

Having sufficiently enlarged upon the education of the girls of Salonika, I will now pass on to that of the boys, which is far more advanced.

The highest school for boys is called the Gymnasium. It contains four classes, in which six professors teach the following subjects:

The next Greek school contains three classes, in which three masters teach the following lessons:

In the middle school of this same town there are four classes, each subdivided into two; five masters teach the following lessons:

How often, when witnessing the perseverance and energy displayed in promoting education among the Greeks and Bulgarians, have I heartily wished that some more of the funds given by our philanthropists for the purposes of conversion could find their way into the educational channel, and help to stimulate its progress!

Conversing on this subject with an intelligent American missionary, settled amongst the Bulgarians, I was told that the missionaries found it hard to work upon the ignorant and prejudiced, who distrust them and do not listen willingly to their teaching. The schoolmasters, the most enlightened among the people, alone comprehend and appreciate their object. He said, “Could we help these people to help themselves through their own schools by contributing to their support, our work would prosper far better. Education, destroying prejudice and superstition, would pave the way to a simpler form of worship; and those who really wish to benefit ignorant humanity in a sensible and effective manner ought to direct their efforts towards the propagation of education, which would finally lead to the end they have in view.”

I also visited another Greek school at Salonika, which was under the direction of a Greek gentleman educated in Germany, who has designed a new educational system which, having had a fair trial, will eventually be adopted in all the educational establishments of the Greeks. The origin of this institution does not date further back than two years, and of all the schools I have visited here and elsewhere, this certainly struck me as being the best and the most perfect of its kind. The children were divided into classes, each of which was examined by the master, the result of which greatly surprised myself and some friends who were present. The director, who justly took great pride in his work, assured us that all these boys under his care (whose ages did not exceed eleven) in consequence of the quickness, facility, and ability with which they received his instructions, had learnt in one year what he had been unable to teach in double that space of time to children in Germany. He added that he was constantly called upon to answer a shower of questions and remarks made by the pupils upon the theme of the lesson, which, having explained, he allows them time and liberty to discuss the difficult points, until they had quite mastered them. On their first entrance they appear listless and uninterested, but as the love of knowledge is developed and grows upon them, they often, when school time is up, beg permission to remain an hour longer in class.

The youngest were first examined in reading. They read fluently from Homer, and translated into modern Greek from chance pages left for us to choose. While the director was dwelling on some meteorological subject, one little mite of six lifted up its finger and said, “I noticed that the sky was very cloudy yesterday, and yet it did not rain, may I explain why?” Permission was at once given, and he enlightened us on the subject. All the questions put to the senior boys in mathematics and natural science were responded to with great promptitude and with a clear knowledge of what they referred to. The dog was the subject chosen for the lesson on zoology. The answers to the questions put on the variety of the species, and the different characteristics that distinguished them, were given with an exactness that showed how well the subject had been explained and understood. Scenes from Greek mythology, orally taught, had been learnt by heart, and were well retained by the pupils, who are said to display great interest in the classic selections, which they act in an admirable manner; the piece chosen for recital in our presence was a selection from the Iphigenia in Tauris of Euripides.

In answer to our inquiries on the conduct and natural disposition of his pupils, the master said both were good, although not free from faults, which he however felt confident would in time be eradicated by proper care and attention. When they first come they are apt to be untruthful: a vice I suppose they acquire, together with other bad habits, in the streets, where they are unfortunately allowed to associate with children who have received no education. Very much pleased with all I had seen and heard in this establishment, I begged the director to let me have one of the class-books containing the routine of teaching. He replied that he had no special work on the subject to abide by, and that the routine of the lessons, left to his own judgment, had been combined by him partly from the system he had studied in Germany, and partly from ideas suggested to him by reading the philosophical works of Herbert Spencer, for which he appeared to have a great admiration.

Few subjects, I think, are more worthy of attention than the march of progress among nations which, perhaps from causes beyond their own control, have long remained stationary. I asked a Greek gentleman, a short time since, what was the difference between the present and the last generation; what were the distinguishing characteristics of each, and what the advantages of the actual over the two preceding it. He replied that the first was ignorant and despotic; fortune, rather than merit, establishing the personal influence of the individual. When this influence was due to official favoritism, it was seldom honestly acquired, and rarely beneficial to others. The fortunes, too, if made in the country, would not stand very close inspection, for the system of money-making in Turkey is of so elastic a nature that it has to be pulled many ways, drawn and quartered, before the honest capitalist can call the money his own. The ladies of the past generation, though good and matronly, had received no education, and consequently could not afford to their children the moral support that the children of the present day are beginning to enjoy. The mothers taught their daughters to be pious and honest, and instructed them in household management and needlework, giving them at the same time a very limited supply of elementary teaching; any further education, up to a recent date, was considered a superfluous accomplishment for girls. The fathers had begun to pay more attention to the education of their sons, but this education was of a peculiar character; some of these boys, when even sent to foreign colleges to complete their studies, on returning home, were allowed neither the liberty of action nor the freedom of thought that they were entitled to by their superior education.

When these studies opened no particular career to them, the youths were generally called upon to follow the father’s trade or profession in a monotonous routine often distasteful to the more spirited young men, who could not break through the restraint without rebelling against the paternal authority. This check often led to disobedience and desertion. The independent youth would seek elsewhere a calling more adapted to his taste; many of these young men, starting with no resources but their brains, have been known to realize great fortunes. The rest of them, married to wives generally chosen for them by their parents, continue to live docilely under the paternal roof, showing every mark of deference to their father’s will,—the absolute law of the house.

All that is now changed; the present generation is far more active and free-thinking. Those who have had the advantages of education are no longer the dreaded despots of their homes, but the companions of their wives and the friends of their children, who, thanks to the privileges they enjoy in this respect, find their way to a free exchange of ideas and feelings with their parents. Many openings are now afforded to youths, who are consulted on the subject, and are free to follow the career they may choose. Should this be commercial, they are no longer, as formerly, the employés of their fathers, but partners with them, sharing the responsibilities and the profits of the business.

Good principles and morality are said to have made great progress among the rising generation, which in all respects is considered by careful observers to be far superior to, and promising to wipe away some of the faults of, their ancestors in modern times. Dishonesty is one of the evils generally attributed to the Greek character. Considering the long experience I have had of this country, the close contact into which I have been brought with all degrees of the Greek community, I cannot in justice admit this to be the rule. In my dealings with tradespeople, I have never found them worse than their neighbors belonging to other nationalities, nor can I say that I have often detected dishonesty in Greek servants, whilst to their devotion and good services I owe much of the comfort of a well-served house.

The nation of the Greeks is earnestly taken up with remodelling itself through the salutary means of education; it has made great progress, and cannot fail to fit itself for the prominent part it has to play in the destinies of South-eastern Europe.

At no epoch of the history of the Bulgarians does their dormant intellect appear to have produced any works of art or genius. This conclusion is arrived at by the absence of any proof of an anterior Bulgarian civilization in the form of literature or monuments. Without personal traditions, they know nothing of their past; and to learn something of it, are forced to consult the Byzantine and Slavonic authors. What civilization they possessed was also borrowed from the Slavs and Byzantines, with whom they lived in close contact. In comparing the national songs, their only literature, with those of the above-mentioned nations, we are led to conclude that the Bulgarians remained equally impervious to the softer and more elevating influence of the Greeks, and to the warlike and independent spirit of the Servians and other Slav populations, by whom they were surrounded. Having imbibed only to a slight extent the civilization of their time, they must, after the Ottoman conquest, through oppression and neglect, have forgotten the little they once possessed, and submitted to the life of perpetual toil and hardship which they have for centuries endured.

These peacefully disposed and hard-working peasants, however, though devoid of learning, deprived of national history, and cut off from the means of improvement, lack neither intelligence, perseverance, nor desire for instruction. We find the indications of this tendency in some of their somewhat disconnected and often uncouth national songs and ballads, which breathe a true love of country life, and illustrate the slow progress of their art, by eulogizing the slight innovations in their agricultural implements. Many of their ballads set forth the brave deeds of their few heroes, illustrate the past glory of their kingdom, lament its downfall, or endeavor to account for its misfortunes.[37]

These timid utterances of an undeveloped people are simple narratives of past incidents, whose relation is heightened neither by the spirit of revenge for wrongs, nor yet by hope for a brighter future. These, the only heritage of their ancestors, the Bulgarians treasure in their hearts, and at moments of joy and exhilaration or suffering, chant them to the accompaniment of the guzla, an instrument of three chords, whose monotonous sounds harmonize well with the shrill or plaintive airs in which utterance is given to their sentiments.

The blow aimed at the Bulgarian Church a little more than a century ago fell with equal weight upon the schools, which, though neither numerous nor effective, were nevertheless most valuable to the people, as the last depositories of their national tongue. These establishments, though the use of the Bulgarian language was formally abolished in them by the Greek Patriarch, still remained scattered all over Bulgaria, and, directed by the priests, enabled the Bulgarians, during the revival of the Church question, to make use of them as foundations for the more important and solid erections that have subsequently risen over them. The sudden manifestation of a desire for instruction and national improvement in Bulgaria is one of the most extraordinary phenomena I have had occasion to notice in the East.

Education at the time of the commencement of this movement was a privilege possessed by the very small section of the nation who were able to seek it in foreign countries. The townspeople studied but little, and the teaching in their schools comprised the Greek language, together with a few general notions: while the bulk of the population in the rural districts were left in entire ignorance. Those who wished for a more complete education, without leaving their country, had recourse to the higher Greek schools, in spite of the antipathy that existed between the two races.

I had written to a Bulgarian gentleman requesting some information upon the state of education in his country, but, unfortunately, the time at which I made this request did not allow him to meet my demand, and his daughter, a clever and accomplished young lady, undertook the task instead. The following is part of her first letter on the subject:

I regret to say that subsequent events unfortunately prevented my obtaining all the hoped-for information on this subject. I can therefore only present an incomplete description of the work of education in Bulgaria.

The schools opened at Gabrova, Kalofer, Sapote, and subsequently at Philippopolis, were the precursors of those that by degrees spread in all directions, entering every nook where a Bulgarian settlement existed; ten years were sufficient to augment the small number of original establishments to the following number that existed in Bulgaria previously to the desolation that befell that unfortunate country.

In the province of Philippopolis there were 305 primary schools, 15 superior schools, with 356 teachers and 12,400 scholars; 27 girls’ schools, with 37 teachers and 2265 pupils. The Tuna vilayet, equally endowed, was also in a fair way of improvement, and the Bulgarian youth there, though less advanced than in the district of Philippopolis, were beginning to rival their brethren on the other side of the Balkans.

The lessons taught in the gymnasium at Philippopolis comprise the Turkish, Greek, and French languages, elementary mathematics, geography, Bulgarian and Turkish history, mental and moral philosophy, religious and moral instruction, and church music.

All these larger establishments, most of which I visited, were fine spacious edifices; some of them were formerly large old mansions, others were specially erected for schools.

Up to the year 1860 the schools in Bulgaria owed their creation and maintenance to voluntary subscriptions and to funds bequeathed by charitable individuals. But these funds were small compared with the demand made by the people for the extension and development of their educational institutions. At the separation of their Church from that of Constantinople, they reappropriated the revenues, which were placed under the direction of a number of men chosen from each district, and a part of them was set aside for the purposes of education. These first steps towards a systematic organization of the Church and schools were followed by the appointment of a mixed commission of clerical and lay members, annually elected in each district, charged with the immediate direction of the local ecclesiastical department. Each commission acts separately and independently of the other, but is answerable to the community at large for the supervision and advancement of public instruction. A further innovation in the shape of supplying funds for the increasing demand for schools of a higher class was made by the Bulgarians of Philippopolis by contriving to persuade the authorities of that place to allow a tax to be levied on each male Bulgarian of 52 paras (about 2½d.), by means of which they are enabled to improve and maintain their excellent gymnasium. When I visited these establishments, most of them were in their infancy. Bulgarian fathers, with genuine pride and joy, gladly led their sons to the new national schools, telling them to become good men, remain devoted to their nation, and pray for the Sultan. Exaggerated and unnatural as this feeling may appear in the face of late events, it was nevertheless genuine among the Bulgarians in those days. Russian influence had not made itself felt at that time, nor were the intellects of the poor ignorant Bulgarians sufficiently developed to enable them to entertain revolutionary notions or plot in the dark to raise the standard of rebellion. Entirely absorbed at that moment in the idea of obtaining the independence of their Church and promoting education, they were grateful to their masters for the liberty allowed them to do more than they had presumed to expect.

During the reign of Sultan Abdul-Aziz the sentiment of loyalty of the subject races towards their ruler diverged into two widely distinct paths. Among the Bulgarians this devotion originated in the intense ignorance and debasement to which centuries of bondage had reduced them: with the Greeks, after the creation of free Hellas, there existed a well-grounded confidence in themselves, a clear insight into the future, and the patience to keep quiet and wait for their opportunity. The Bulgarians were loyal because they knew no better; the Greeks because their time was not yet come. They knew the truth, “Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre.” If the minds of the Bulgarians subsequently became more alive to their actual situation and they listened to revolutionary suggestions, it was due to the teaching they had obtained from their schools and from the national ideas instilled into their minds by the priests and schoolmasters. This teaching was not always derived from books, for these were rare and precious objects not easy to obtain. Moreover, the difference between the written and spoken language is so great that the former can scarcely be understood by the bulk of the population. The original Hunnish tongue, absorbed by the Slavonic dialect that succeeded it, has preserved but little of the primitive unwritten idiom; and even the adopted one that replaced it gradually took in so great a number of Turkish, Greek, Servian, and other foreign words as to make the Bulgarian vernacular scarcely analogous with the more polished language now taught in the schools. Even in Philippopolis some years ago the Bulgarian ladies had great difficulty in understanding the conversation of the ladies belonging to the American mission, who had learnt the written language and spoke it with great purity. The modern Bulgarian is based upon the Slav, and although differing considerably from the Russian Slav language, the two nations have no great difficulty, after a little practice, in comprehending each other. No less than seven Bulgarian grammars are in existence, all written during the last fifteen years; but they agree neither in the general principles nor in the details. Some entirely disregard the popular idiom, and impose the rules of modern Russian or Servian on the language. Others attempt to reduce to rules the vernacular, which is variable, vague, and imperfect.

The schoolmasters are, generally speaking, young, ardent, and enthusiastic; if educated abroad, they are fully versed in all the usual branches of study, earnest in their work, as if pressed forwards by the impetus of their desire for inculcating into the minds of their ignorant but by no means unintelligent brethren all the views and sentiments that engross their own. The priests of the towns and villages become their confidants and co-workers; and thus the two bodies that had obtained self-existence at the same time, and had the same object in view, served later on as organs for instilling into the people some notions of personal independence and the wish for national liberty.

As a rule the Bulgarian is neither bright nor intelligent in appearance. His timid look, reserved and awkward manner, and his obstinate doggedness when he cannot or will not understand, give the peasant an air of impenetrability often amounting to brute stupidity. But those who have well studied the capacity and disposition of the Bulgarian consider this due rather to an incapability of comprehending at the first glance the object or subject presented to his attention, and a dogged obstinacy that will not allow him to yield readily to the proofs offered him.

This defect is so prominent in the Bulgarians that they have received from the Greeks the cognomen of χονδροκεφάλους (thick-heads), and a Turk, wishing to denote a person of an obstinate character, will use the expression of “Bulgar Kaphalu,” while the Bulgarian himself makes a joke of it, and, striking his head, or that of his neighbor, exclaims, “Bulgarski glava” (Bulgarian head). These heads, however, when put to the proof, by their capacity for study, their patience, and perseverance, gain complete mastery of the subject they interest themselves in, giving evidence of intelligence, which requires only time and opportunity to develop into maturity.

The rivalry between this nation and the Greeks is also doing much to promote education. But another and more friendly and effective stimulant exists in the untiring efforts of the American missionaries who have chosen this promising field of labor. Their civilizing influence has taken an unassuming but well-rooted foundation in all the places in which they have established themselves, and gradually develops and makes itself evident in more than one way. Indefatigable in their work of promoting religious enlightenment and education, these missionaries went about in their respective districts, preaching the Gospel and distributing tracts and Bibles among the people, who, in some places, received them gladly with kindness and confidence, while in others they were regarded with distrust. Frequently, however, a stray sheep or two would be found, in even the most ignorant and benighted parts, willing to be led away from his natural shepherd, ready to listen to and accept the teaching that spoke to his better feelings and his judgment. If wholesale conversion to Protestantism (of which I am no advocate, unless it be based upon real intellectual progress and moral development) does not follow, much good is done in promoting a spirit of inquiry, which can be satisfied by the cheap and excellent religious books furnished by the Bible societies. The purity and devotion that characterize the lives of these worthy people, who abandon a home in their own land to undertake a toilsome occupation among an ignorant and often hostile population, form another moral argument which cannot fail in the end to tell upon the people. Nor has their work of charity amidst death, cold, and starvation, after the massacres, often at the risk of their own lives, tended to lessen the general esteem and regard in which they are held by all classes and creeds of the population by which they are surrounded.

The Bulgarian student, whether in his own national schools or in those of foreign nations, is hard-working and steady; grave and temperate by disposition, he seldom exposes himself to correction or to the infliction of punishment. The scarcity of teachers was at first a great hindrance to the propagation of knowledge; this difficulty was by degrees removed by sending youths to study in foreign countries, who, on their return, fulfilled the functions of schoolmasters. In former times Russia was a great resort for these students, but lately, notwithstanding the great facilities, financial and otherwise, afforded them in that country, they now prefer the schools of France and Germany, together with the College of the American Mission at Bebek, and the training schools that have been lately established in the country, which are now capable of supplying the teachers necessary for the village schools. Recent events have, to a great extent, disorganized this excellent system: had it been allowed ten years longer to work, a transformed Bulgarian nation might have occupied the world’s attention.

The girls’ schools, also formed by the active American ladies, deserve our attention. Their principal object is to bestow sound Christian instruction upon the rising female population, and their efforts have met with deserved yet unexpected success, not only in developing knowledge among their own people, but in stimulating the Bulgarian communities to display a greater interest in the education of their daughters and found schools of a similar character. These establishments have produced a number of excellent scholars, who have done honor to them by their attainments and general good character.

The agents of the Roman Catholic Propaganda have schools in the principal towns, and are actively employed; but their efforts are more particularly directed to proselytism than to instruction, and their work has consequently met with less success than that of the Protestant missionaries.