When Abdul Hamid was installed as Sultan of Turkey above this picturesque ant-hill, the situation was such as might well have appalled the stoutest heart. Possibly the Sultan's ignorance—for although he is no fool, he, like all the other Turks, has never quite grasped the elementary facts which underlie the modern world—may have helped him. If he had had a wider range of knowledge or a more vivid imagination he might have gone the way of Murad.
ALONE.
Without training, without preparation, without a single friend whom he could trust, Abdul Hamid was suddenly brought forth from his seclusion by the men who had deposed his uncle and his brother, and established on a throne reeling from the blows of domestic insurrection and foreign war. The last days of the Ottoman Empire seemed to have come. Among all the Powers, not one would promise him any help. Among all his pashas there was not one whom he did not believe would depose him tomorrow if private gain or public policy appeared to demand such a step. The treasury was empty. The credit of the empire was at such a low ebb that no new loan was possible, yet armies had to be retained in the field to keep Servia and Montenegro in check. Preparations had to be pushed forward to prevent the threatened Russian invasion. Greece was threatening in the south, Russia in the north and east, while Austria was suspected of aggressive designs in the west. There was hardly a single province which was not threatening revolt.
