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THE STORY OF MY STRUGGLES




_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._


ARMINIUS VAMBÉRY:

His Life and Adventures.

Imperial 16mo, cloth, 6s. Boys' Edition, crown 8vo, cloth gilt, gilt
edges, 5s.


THE STORY OF HUNGARY.

Fully Illustrated. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 5s. (THE STORY OF THE NATIONS
SERIES.)

LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN.


[Illustration: VAMBÉRY AFTER HIS RETURN FROM CENTRAL ASIA.

_Photographed in Teheran, 1863._

_Frontispiece to Vol._ II.]




THE STORY OF MY STRUGGLES

THE MEMOIRS OF ARMINIUS VAMBÉRY

PROFESSOR OF ORIENTAL LANGUAGES
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF BUDAPEST

VOLUME II

[Illustration: Logo]

LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN
PATERNOSTER SQUARE. 1904


(_All rights reserved._)




Contents


CHAPTER VII.
                                                PAGE
FROM LONDON TO BUDAPEST                          237


CHAPTER VIII.

MY POLITICAL CAREER AND POSITION IN ENGLAND      283


CHAPTER IX.

THE TRIUMPH OF MY LABOURS                        317


CHAPTER X.

AT THE ENGLISH COURT                             329


CHAPTER XI.

MY INTERCOURSE WITH SULTAN ABDUL HAMID           343


CHAPTER XII.

MY INTERCOURSE WITH NASREDDIN SHAH AND HIS
SUCCESSOR                                        391


CHAPTER XIII.

THE STRUGGLE'S END, AND YET NO END               411


APPENDICES                                       459




Illustrations


PROFESSOR VAMBÉRY AFTER HIS RETURN FROM
CENTRAL ASIA                              _Frontispiece_

PROFESSOR VAMBÉRY AND HIS TARTAR, 1864 _Facing page_ 393




From London to Budapest




CHAPTER VII

FROM LONDON TO BUDAPEST


I have often been asked how it was that, after the bitter disappointment
I had experienced in my native land on my return from Asia, and after
the brilliant reception accorded to me in England, I yet preferred to
settle down permanently in Hungary.

People have been surprised that I should choose a quiet literary career,
whereas my many years of intimate intercourse with various Eastern
nations might have been turned to so much better account, and a
practical, active career would have been so much more in keeping with my
character. All these questions were asked of me at the time in London,
but filled as I then became with a sense of oppression and a great
longing for home I could not give a satisfactory answer to these
queries. Now that the cloud has lifted, and my vision is clear, now that
sober reflection has taken the place of former rapture and exultation,
the causes which influenced my decision are perfectly clear. I see now
that I could not have acted differently; that the step I took was
partly the result of my personal inclination and views of life, and
partly influenced by the circumstances of my birth and bringing up, and
the notions then generally prevailing in Hungary; nor have I cause or
ground to regret my decision.

In the first place I have to confess that in England, notwithstanding
the noisy, brilliant receptions I had, and all the attention paid to me,
no one ever made me any actual proposal with a view to my future
benefit, and no one seemed at all disposed to turn to account my
practical experiences in the service of the State or of private
enterprise. The Memorandum about the condition of things in Central
Asia, written at the time in Teheran at the request of the British
Ambassador there, had duly found its way to Lord Palmerston, the Prime
Minister. The gray statesman received me most kindly; I was often a
guest at his private house, or dined with him at Mr. Tomlin's, of
Carlton House Terrace, or at Sir Roderick Murchison's, of 16, Belgrave
Square. At his initiative I was invited to other distinguished houses,
for the merry old gentleman was much entertained by my lively
conversation and my anecdotes from Asia, which I used to relate after
dinner when the ladies had retired. My stories about the white ass of
the English Embassy at Teheran, of diplomatic repute, and similar
amusing details of court life in Persia and the Khanates of Central
Asia, tickled the fancy of the most serious, sober-minded of these high
lords, and went the round in the fashionable West End circles. But for
all that they saw in me merely the "lively foreigner," the versatile
traveller, and if here and there some interest was shown in my future,
it amounted to asking what were my latest travelling plans, and when I
thought of setting out in search of fresh discoveries. As if I had not
been on the go for two-and-twenty years, ever since I was ten years old!
as if I had not battled and struggled and suffered enough! And now that
for the first time in my life I had lighted on a green bough and hoped
to have accomplished something, was I again straightway to plunge into
the vague ocean of destiny? "No, no," I reflected; "I am now thirty-two
years old, without for one moment having enjoyed the pleasures of a
quiet, peaceful life, and without possessing enough to permit myself the
luxury of resting on my own bed, or of working comfortably at my own
table." This uncertain, unsatisfactory state of things must come to an
end sometime; and so the desire for rest and peace necessarily overruled
any inclination for great and ambitious plans, and nipped in the bud all
projects which possibly might have made my career more brilliant, but
certainly not happier than it afterwards turned out.

The kind reader of these pages who is familiar with the struggles and
troubles of my childhood, who has followed me in thought on the thorny
path of early youth, and knows something of my experiences as
self-taught scholar and tutor, will perhaps accuse me of dejection, and
blame me for want of perseverance and steadiness of purpose. Possibly I
have disregarded the golden saying of my mother, "One must make one's
bed half the night, the better to rest the other half." I did give way
to dejection, but my resolve, however blameworthy it may be, should be
looked upon as the natural consequence of a struggle for existence which
began all too early and lasted sadly too long. Man is not made of iron,
too great a tension must be followed