RESEARCHES IN ARMENIA.

LETTER XII.

FROM

SHOOSHA то DATEV.

Dishonesty and falsehood of the Armenians and moslems-Route proposed -Leave Shoosha-Kúlaah-kishlák-Impressions respecting a republican government-Doctrines respecting the Virgin-Degh-Armenian nobility -Character of the Armenians for industry-Karahoonch-Passage of the river of Datev-Arrival at the convent of Datev-Diocese of Süník-Family devotions of the Armenians-Orders of the Armenian clergy-Moral character and influence of convents-Their influence upon educationDiocesan bishops-Their income-Their influence-Decline of monasticism.

DEAR SIR,

WERE we to record all the vexations and disappointments to which we are subjected in our journey, by the total want of truth that universally prevailed, almost every page of our journals would be disfigured by some complaint. As faithful describers of the character of the people, however, we are bound to report enough to show you, that lying is so common as almost to form a part of their So blinded even is their conscience, as not to be easily persuaded to regard it as a sin, especially when no evil to others is the designed object of it. Mutual confidence, of course, hardly exists; and only by being experi

nature.

10 DISHONESTY OF THE ARMENIANS AND MOSLEMS.

mentally acquainted with all the varied modes of deceiving, are they able to regulate their dealings with each other. This total disregard of truth threw indescribable obstacles in the way of our obtaining correct information; and the difficulty evidently increased as we advanced eastward. In answer to the most common questions, we were many and many a time told what was palpably false, for no other imaginable reason, than either the depraved taste of our informants for falsehood, or a dislike to trouble themselves with the accuracy of truth. And never could we confide in what was said to us, without confirming it by crossquestioning, or by otherwise finding a balance of probabilities in its favor.

The difficulty was not less in our dealings with the people than in our inquiries of them. Deeming it imprudent on account of my feeble health, to leave Shoosha with no other attendant than Antonio, whom we had taken to help us in the languages of the country, rather than to serve us, we endeavored to procure another for a travelling servant and cook. Four were engaged successively by solemn contract, all of whom disappointed us; some never making their appearance at all after the bargain was completed, and others deserting us after two or three days' service. Our difficulty with muleteers was scarcely less; we continued to hire different sets of them in vain, until the pledge of contract was finally given, and insured our departure. The custom of the pledge is universal wherever I have travelled in Syria, Greece and Armenia. No matter how small it be, nor which of the contracting parties gives it, it binds the bargain, which otherwise, though made with the most solemn promises, might be broken for the merest trifle. I have known its validity fail but once, and then the poor muleteer's horses were siezed by government, and he restored our pledge. Both moslems and Armenians are sufficiently given to falsehood, but the latter more so than

the former. I must add, too, that the kindred vice of profaneness, in all its varieties, is equally common to both sects. It is heard from every mouth, and so lightly is it regarded, as not to be esteemed sinful.

It was on the 1st of November that we found ourselves in readiness to bid farewell to our hospitable and beloved brethren at Shoosha. The cholera had ceased in the valley of the Aras; and though the plague still continued at Tebriz, where it had broken out to finish the desolation commenced by the cholera, we determined to move in that direction. My own health, too, was not restored beyond a liability to constant relapses, but we hoped that travelling would confirm it. The usual caravan route to Tebriz passes a little to the east of Shoosha, and takes nearly a straight course. But our intention being to visit Echmiádzin on our way, we took a more untravelled road, directly over the mountains of Kara-bagh to Nakhcheván; anticipating that the difficulties of the way would be more than compensated, by the opportunity it would present of seeing the Armenians in a more primitive and simple state, than they are perhaps elsewhere to be found. In order to facilitate our progress, our former friend the commandant of Kars, who had now succeeded to the command of Shoosha, repeated his civilities, by offering us an order for the villages on the road to furnish us with lodgings and guides.

With an awkward hostler, whom we had taken as a final resort, for a servant and cook, and mounted on five horses owned by two Persian muleteers, we started at 10 A. M. Our course lay directly over the mountains, which rose behind and towered far above our mountain citadel, and had for several weeks been the resting place of dark clouds, that to our impatient eye threatened daily to cover them with impassable snow-drifts. We issued from the Eriván gate, and descending awhile, came upon the top of the ridge, which connects in this direction the base of the rock of Shoo

sha with the mountain. We were still so elevated that the objects at the bottom of the ravines on either side could be but indistinctly seen, and the steepness of the declivity along which we descended into that on the left, put the carefulness of our horses to a severe test. We finished the descent without accident, and then, following a path little better than a goat's track, over sloping rocks and along the edge of chasms, we traced the torrent that washes the bed of the ravine, to the very top of the mountain.

Though we had yet found no road more difficult, we enjoyed it much. Our spirits, cheered by feelings of returning health and freedom to move again after so long a confinement, and by the providential deliverance we had experienced from the pestilence by which a thousand had fallen at our side and ten thousand at our right hand, were additionally exhilarated by a smiling November's sun, which, shining through a cloudless sky, warmed without oppressing us. How charming, too, was the chrystal stream that murmured by us, after the briny wells of Shoosha! We felt as if we could swallow enough to quench an elephant's thirst, merely for the pleasure of drinking. The party-colored leaves, too, silently dropping from the oak, maple, beech, hawthorn and other trees, which covered the sides of the mountain and partly shaded our path, threw over our feelings a tinge of pleasing melancholy. And nothing interrupted the general stillness, but the sudden start of a lizard among the leaves, or the bark of a dog of some straggling nomad, who with tardy steps was edging his way to join his companions already in their winterquarters on the banks of the Koor. The height of the mountain may be estimated from the fact, that it divides the waters of the Koor from those of the Aras. We found the topmost ridge entirely destitute of trees, as if even they had retired before the winds and snows that in winter make it their sporting place; and the green sward that cover

ed it, seemed only to add to its bleakness. We descended immediately, on the farther side, into a ravine as steep and profound as the one we had ascended, but destitute of rocks and precipices. Crossing a torrent at its bottom, and ascending a fatiguing distance the steep declivity of a mountain on its left side, we stopped at Kúlaah-kishlák, (called also Kúlaah-déresy,) the first village on the road. Its estimated distance from Shoosha is only 4 fúrsakhs ;* but we were at least seven hours on the road.

Without a sight of the commandant's order, the kakhia readily received us as his guests. A kind of public room was opened, and after it was cleared of some dishes used for the entertainment of poultry in the absence of travellers, and spread with carpets, we found in it comfortable accommodations. A supper of rice revived me, and I was encouraged at finding myself not too fatigued by my first day's ride for a little conversation with our host. The village contained about 50 under-ground houses, all inhabited by Armenians, who had one church and two priests. It was the limit of the extent, in this direction, of the diocese of Kántsasar. The kakhia affirmed that no schools existed either here or in any of the surrounding villages; and declared, as a reason, that no one was qualified to teach, and probably none wished to learn. His own manifest indifference to the subject tended to confirm the latter assertion. He estimated the number in this village who could read at only six.

Our inquisitiveness respecting his village and nation, led him to take a similar liberty to question us respecting our

Though not yet in Persia, we must now adopt the Persian measure of distance, it being here the prevalent one. It is the ancient parasang, still called in Persian fúrsakh, but in Turkish agháj, or tree. The latter name is most known where we travelled, but I prefer the former for its classical associations. It is not a measured distance, but varies little from 4 miles.