down upon secluded vales,—where giant precipices seem almost to defy mankind to venture upon intercommunication,—where waters, instead of meandering through flowery meads, pour in resistless torrents over their stony beds,—where clouds unknown at certain seasons in the plains, almost perpetually obscure the fair face of the heavens, or dwell upon the mountain tops,—and where the universal aspect of nature is sterile, forbidding, and austere,—the benign influence of a kindly religion, and the simple forms of a primitive church, have preserved a people from self-sacrifices, unavailing to God and injurious to society. The Nestorian Church neither inculcates seclusion nor celibacy among its clergy; its only purification is fasting, so strongly enjoined on all Christians; and, in order that in this point their patriarchs, whose dignity is hereditary, may be without stain, they are not allowed to partake of fleshmeat either before or after their ordination.
"But if the influences of climate and soil, combined with the peculiarities of position with regard to neighbouring races of men, on the moral and intellectual development of the Nestorians, are modified in one direction by religion, it is much to be regretted that in another they have exercised full sway, allowing the passions too frequently to obtain the ascendant over morality and religion. The hardy mountaineer knows but a single step from the toils of travel or the chase to an expedition of war and extermination.[1]
"Thus the character of the Nestorian, besides perhaps retaining the impression of early persecution, has undoubtedly been affected by position, by the influences of nature, and by the vicinity of warlike and predatory tribes maintaining hostile creeds; but it is still more influenced by a very simple and easily reme-
- ↑ Mr. Ainsworth might have added: "and from the solemnity of divine worship to the wild sports of the mountains." It was related to me as a fact that as one of the priests, (many of whom carry arms and all possess them,) was about to open the service, he saw from a window of the church, which overhung a precipice, a wild boar drinking at a stream in the valley below. Laying aside his robes, be said to the congregation: "My brethren, this our sacrifice of praise will remain where it is, but that," pointing to the boar, "will soon run away." Then seizing his rifle he descended the rocks, and after securing the prey returned to the church, where the people had patiently waited for him, and all went through the prayers as if nothing uncommon had happened.
