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FOREWORD 
 
 ULGARIA is chief among the Allies who 
 have made successful war on Turkey. 
 And the leaders of Bulgaria are to a sur¬ 
 prising extent graduates of Robert Col¬ 
 lege At Constantinople. The indebtedness of this 
 Balkan state to an institution founded, governed, 
 and maintained by Americans is recognized in both 
 countries. The United States government has ac¬ 
 knowledged that its relations with Bulgaria are 
 assured because of what Americans have done for 
 that land by their schools and missionary labors. 
 
 But if modern Bulgaria be traced back to Robert 
 College, that institution is interwoven with the 
 career of Cyrus Hamlin, its first president, and be¬ 
 fore that a missionary of the American Board in 
 Turkey. Many have read his autobiography and 
 know of the charm of his personality and the fasci¬ 
 nation of his life story. For those who for any rea¬ 
 son are not likely to peruse that volume from his 
 own pen, Dr. A. R. Thain has with rare skill fur¬ 
 nished this condensed account of Dr. Hamlin. 
 
 We commend this story of a great life. It will 
 specially appeal to the young man in college or 
 seminary, and to the mature business and profes¬ 
 sional man. Pastors can render the men of their 
 congregations a real service by wisely circulating 
 this pamphlet with an introductory note or word. 
 
 W. E. S. 
 
 [ 2 ] 
 
CYRUS HAMLIN, D.D., LL.D. 
 
 By A. R. Thain, D.D. 
 
 The American Board and Cyrus Hamlin were 
 born only six months apart. The Board was born 
 at Bradford, Massachusetts, June 29, 1810, and 
 Cyrus Hamlin was born at Waterford, Maine, Janu¬ 
 ary 5,1811. The infancy of the Board was very short. 
 It drank of the brook in the way—God’s brook— 
 lifted up its head and looked on world-wide fields 
 white already to harvest, and ordained the first for¬ 
 eign missionaries ever sent out from America, on the 
 next day after the birth of Cyrus Hamlin. He had 
 
 [ 3 ] 
 
a longer infancy, but we shall soon see that he 
 showed a genius for doing things when he was quite 
 young. If not a Hercules in the cradle, he was a 
 Hamlin, and early in life—as well as in his mature 
 strength—he could strangle the serpents of cir¬ 
 cumstance with strong grip. 
 
 THE HAMLIN ANCESTRY 
 
 The Hamlins were descended from the Hugue¬ 
 nots, and the Huguenots are the Yankees of France, 
 skillful, liberty-loving, and resourceful. Before the 
 Revolutionary War the grandfather of Cyrus — 
 Eleazer Hamlin—dwelt in Massachusetts, a man of 
 large family and large ideas. He had seventeen chil¬ 
 dren, and one by one as they were born he claimed 
 the continents of the earth for his family; at least, 
 in selecting names for his sons. His first-born son was 
 named Africanus, the second Americus, the third 
 Asiaticus, and the fourth Europus. Having—nom¬ 
 inally— conquered all the continents of the world, 
 he next began to name his sons after famous con¬ 
 querors. Twin sons invaded the world as though 
 they could not wait for separate sequential births, 
 and together they went forth to conquer, bearing the 
 great names of Cyrus and Hannibal. Of these twin 
 brothers, Hannibal served his generation in various 
 honorable ways, but chiefly by giving to the world 
 a son, that Cyrus who was destined to win inter¬ 
 continental reputation by eminent missionary labors. 
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
Three of Eleazer’s sons fought in the Revolutionary 
 War to the end, and as a reward for such faithful 
 service the Massachusetts legislature gave to the 
 father a considerable tract of land in the “District 
 of Maine.” But it proved to be, like the gifts of the 
 Grecians, dangerous to deal with. Though it was not 
 filled with hostile men, like the famous wooden 
 horse, yet it abounded in predacious bears. It was 
 so sterile, rocky, and wild that it could produce noth¬ 
 ing except spruce trees and bears. 
 
 But four of Eleazer Hamlin’s sons also received 
 grants of land, in Waterford, Maine, where the soil 
 was better and the bears were not so numerous; and 
 there Hannibal cleared a piece of land in 1799—1800, 
 and, after building a house and barn, went to Acton, 
 Massachusetts, and was joined in marriage to Susan 
 Faulkner, the beautiful daughter of Colonel Faulk¬ 
 ner, a soldier of Revolutionary fame. 
 
 Four children were born to them: Susan, Rebecca, 
 Hannibal, and Cyrus. When Cyrus was seven months 
 old his father died, leaving to the care of the widow 
 two farms, two girls, and two boys, the youngest 
 having so large a head compared with his frail body 
 that the Cassandras of the neighborhood warned his 
 mother that she must “never expect to raise that 
 child.” 
 
 But, like that Cyrus named in the Bible, of whom 
 God said, “whose right hand I have holden to sub¬ 
 due nations before him,” the feeble infant born in 
 
 [ 5 ] 
 
 f 
 
Maine had been raised up for a special purpose, and 
 during nine victorious decades he showed ability, 
 God enabling him, to “break in pieces the gates of 
 brass, and cut asunder the bars of iron.” 
 
 EARLY SCHOOLING 
 
 Cyrus was in school all the time, ever learning 
 and ever able to come to the knowledge of the truth. 
 His first school was that Maine farm; his first 
 teacher was his mother; and his constant teacher 
 was Mother Nature, stern yet kindly. She taught 
 him even how to fall downstairs—to his advantage. 
 When he was between three and four years old he 
 rolled downstairs one day, and John Atherton, the 
 fun-loving hired man who had just come from the 
 hayfield with a delicious bumblebee honeycomb in 
 his hand, picked up the bawling, black and blue boy, 
 gave him the honeycomb, and told him that he could 
 have another honeycomb if he should fall down that 
 flight of stairs again. Whether intentionally or not, 
 the boy took two post-graduate courses down those 
 stairs before sundown. He was covered with bruises, 
 but he received as rewards the Homeric laughter of 
 John Atherton and three honeycombs. His .falls 
 from that time on were falls upstairs; and that 
 full hive of bitter-sweet experiences, “My Life and 
 Times,” shows that he could extract something 
 sweeter than even the famed honey of Hymettus 
 from the wormwood and rue of Turkish duplicity. 
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
SUBJECTS FOR ECLOGUES 
 A series of Eclogues, or Bucolics, might have been 
 written on the fortunes of that Maine farm if a 
 Maine Virgil had been there to put them into verse; 
 how Cyrus and his brother, with no better tool than 
 a homely horn-handled jackknife, made sleds for 
 coasting and for drawing wood; how, in their early 
 teens, with a more varied but still limited kit of tools, 
 they renewed the worn-out farm implements, making 
 ox-bows, yokes, and tip-carts which called forth the 
 admiration of the neighbors; how Hannibal and 
 Cyrus conducted campaign after campaign of culti¬ 
 vation over the fields of that stony farm with a suc¬ 
 cess which did not sully the fame of the ancient con¬ 
 querors whose names they bore; how, on a certain 
 training day, when Mrs. Hamlin had given Cyrus seven 
 cents with which to buy gingerbread, buns, or any¬ 
 thing for which his soul lusted—with the suggestion 
 that he might drop one or two cents of it into the 
 missionary box kept by Mrs. Farrer—he, after 
 struggling with hunger and with a difficult problem 
 for hours, finally cast into the Lord’s treasury all 
 that he had, even all his living, because he did not 
 know how to divide seven cents equally; and how— 
 but time would fail me to give all the subjects of 
 the unwritten Eclogues, and it will be enough to say 
 that the education of Cyrus was going on all of the 
 time, in the district school part of the year and on 
 the farm all the year, fitting him for that varied 
 
 I'M 
 
work which he accomplished in Turkey, when he 
 turned his ready hand to whatsoever he found to do 
 with all his might and with astonishing success. 
 
 HIS APPRENTICESHIP 
 
 When Cyrus was about sixteen years old it was 
 decided that his head was too large and his body was 
 too frail for farm work. Dr. Gage, the wise family 
 physician, said: “The boy does not grow. He has 
 not grown for three years. Farm work will kill him. 
 Give him an education.” 
 
 To give him the moon seemed to be as much within 
 the reach of the mother at that time; and so it was 
 decided that Cyrus should become a silversmith and 
 jeweler in the establishment of his brother-in-law, 
 Mr. Charles Farley, of Portland. 
 
 With a spirit as resolute as that of Hannibal when 
 he set out to climb the Alps and invade Italy, the 
 brothers joined their forces for the first day’s march 
 of that new campaign. On January 6, 1827, a day 
 of storm and severe cold, with their faithful old 
 mare hitched to a sleigh containing the trunk of the 
 younger brother and a load of farm produce for the 
 Portland market, they covered forty miles in sixteen 
 hours, arriving at Mr. Farley’s house cold, hungry, 
 and tired, but happy. 
 
 WAS IT A WASTE OF TIME ? 
 
 Why did God permit the future missionary to 
 spend two years and four months of his valuable life 
 
 [ 8 ] 
 
in the shop of a silversmith? For the same reason 
 that He permitted an earlier missionary to learn the 
 trade of tent-making. It was part of his education. 
 Like other men of note he was to receive a composite 
 education: intentional and providential, human and 
 divine. He was the Lord’s apprentice, and the Mas¬ 
 ter Worker of the universe saw that the skill which 
 Cyrus gained in the use of tools could be turned to a 
 useful purpose, not only then, but many years after¬ 
 ward on the shore of the Bosphorus. 
 
 Twenty-five or thirty years later, when Dr. Ham¬ 
 lin walked through the streets of Constantinople or 
 
 ROBERT COLLEGE—FROM THE WATER 
 
 [ 9 ] 
 
along the heights where Robert College was to stand, 
 his hat covered the dome of a polytechnic institute; 
 for he became master of an astonishing variety of 
 trades, all of which he could use for the glory of God 
 and the good of humanity. He could drive more than 
 a dozen trades, tandem or abreast, as the case might 
 require; but they never ran away with him, never 
 turned him aside from the leading purpose of his life, 
 the advancement of Christian education. 
 
 One of Dr. Hamlin’s admirers once said, half in 
 jest and half in earnest, that he was proficient in 
 sixteen trades and professions ; and in his book, “My 
 Life and Times,” he permitted his humor to add to 
 this seeming exaggeration by intimating that in this 
 enumeration Dr. Bartol probably did not reckon 
 some of the trades which he learned that he might 
 minister to the needs of sick soldiers during the 
 Crimean War. Some of them were strange trades; 
 but in educating men for their work God often as¬ 
 signs to them tasks which, for the time, may seem to 
 be interruptions of their life career, but are after¬ 
 wards seen to be important parts of their training. 
 
 AN IMPORTANT TURNING POINT 
 
 The most important event in the life of Cyrus 
 Hamlin was when he turned to Christ as his per¬ 
 sonal Saviour, and united with the church of which 
 Dr. Edward Payson was pastor. At that time 
 Mr. Hamlin was attending an evening school for 
 
 [ 10] 
 
apprentices, and he also began to study the Bible 
 and religious books with great earnestness. A proof 
 of the maturity of his mind is seen in the fact that he 
 turned with eagerness to the works of Jonathan 
 Edwards, and the thoughts of that great theologian 
 passed like iron into his blood. 
 
 The young apprentice began to attract attention 
 as a writer and speaker. In competition with his 
 fellow-apprentices who attended the night school, he 
 took a prize for the best essay on Profane Swearing. 
 He was much surprised, soon after the production 
 of this essay, when Deacon Isaac Smith asked him if 
 he had ever thought that it might be his duty to 
 prepare for the ministry. He had never thought of 
 it as a probability, and when Mr. Smith and others 
 began to urge him to consider the matter, he saw two 
 serious difficulties in the way of such a course: he 
 had three years yet to serve as apprentice in the 
 shop of Mr. Farley, and he did not see where the 
 money could be secured to carry him through nine 
 years of study. 
 
 In deciding, as he did, to study for the ministry if 
 the way should be opened, he was influenced in favor 
 of such a course by that long series of Resolutions 
 which President Edwards had set up along the Ap- 
 pian Way of Duty, as he saw it, of which this is one: 
 
 “ Resolved , To do whatever I think to be my duty, 
 and most for the good and advantage of mankind in 
 general.” 
 
 [ ll 1 
 
When the struggle which was going on in his mind 
 became known, Mr. Farley released him from the 
 terms of his apprenticeship, and Dr. Payson’s 
 church voted to assist him in securing an education. 
 
 And so, eighteen years and four months old, with 
 the love of God in his heart, with a good degree of 
 mechanical skill at the ends of his fingers, with a 
 small sum of money in his pocket, with Edwardsian 
 Resolutions in his note-book, with “an excellent 
 spirit” and an excellent spine “in him,” he started 
 for Brighton Academy to begin another stage of his 
 education. 
 
 BRIGHTON ACADEMY AND 
 BOWDOIN COLLEGE 
 
 Certain Hamlinesque qualities of mind and charac¬ 
 ter developed strength during his academic days. He 
 gave himself to plain living and strenuous thinking. 
 He learned the first book of the JEneid so well that he 
 could repeat it without the text from beginning to 
 end. He sometimes studied from five in the morning 
 until ten at night, breakfasting on mathematics, din¬ 
 ing on dead languages, and supping on science, try¬ 
 ing to crowd two years of study into one; but taking 
 thought—of that kind—did not hinder him from 
 adding more inches to his physical stature that year 
 than in any previous year of his life. 
 
 Cyrus Hamlin not only profited by the studies of 
 his college course, but he added something to his 
 
 [ 12] 
 
studies which was not a part of the curriculum, a 
 providential elective, as his after life revealed. One 
 day Professor Smyth delivered a lecture on the steam 
 engine to Hamlin’s class, not one of whom, perhaps, 
 had ever seen a steam engine. Those were the days 
 of the stagecoach and the ox team. After the lecture 
 he said to Professor Smyth, “I believe I could make 
 an engine that would make any one see its working.” 
 
 The professor replied, “I think you can make any¬ 
 thing you undertake, Hamlin, and I wish you would 
 try.” 
 
 He did try, and succeeded. He took a vacation of 
 two or three months, read Lardner on the steam en¬ 
 gine, secured the use of a shop and tools in Portland, 
 and by working ten, twelve, and sometimes fifteen 
 hours each day, he built a steam engine—not a mere 
 toy, but a working model sufficiently large to be of 
 real service as a part of the philosophical apparatus 
 of the college. He received in payment $175, only 
 part of its cost if labor of hand and brain were fully 
 estimated, but it was part of his fitting to be a cap¬ 
 tain of industry years afterwards, when he was mak¬ 
 ing flour, making bread, and making men. 
 
 SEMINARY LIFE AND PREACHING 
 
 After completing his studies in Bowdoin College, 
 Mr. Hamlin went to Bangor Seminary to take his 
 theological course. He had already decided that he 
 would work for the Lord on foreign soil; but the 
 
 [13] 
 
world is large: in what part of it should he labor? 
 China was his first choice, and Africa was his second, 
 but the predestination of Providence was fitting him 
 for work “Among the Turks”—the title of one of 
 his books—though that fact did not come within the 
 horizon of his vision for a number of years. 
 
 During his third year in the seminary Mr. Hamlin 
 applied to the Board for missionary service, stat¬ 
 ing his preference for China or Africa as fields of 
 labor. In February of that year he received a letter 
 from the Board, appointing him to Constantinople 
 and to education. The news was surprising. The 
 experience was somewhat like that of Ezekiel, when, 
 in the vision of God, he seemed to be transported 
 through space and brought to the city of Jerusalem. 
 To be taken by the Spirit and transported half 
 around the world in an instant, from Canton to Con¬ 
 stantinople, almost took away the breath of the 
 modern Ezekiel; but he had enough breath left to 
 enable him to hasten to his room, where he shut him¬ 
 self up with the Lord that he might, with the aid of 
 the Spirit, re-orient himself. 
 
 It did not take long. Like Constantine of old, he 
 spread the map of the eastern world before him, put 
 his finger on the short strait which connects the 
 Black Sea with the Sea of Marmora, and concluded 
 that it was a strategic point of great importance. “It 
 means a good work,” he said; “excellent and noble 
 associates, Goodell, Dwight, Schauffler, Holmes, and, 
 
 [14] 
 
at Brousa, Schneider and Powers.” He accepted the 
 assignment of Providence with joyful alacrity. 
 
 And with like joyful alacrity he wished that three 
 desired events might come to him soon after com¬ 
 pleting his seminary course: to marry, to be or¬ 
 dained, and to depart for Constantinople. 
 
 But the officers of the Board informed him that for 
 various reasons he could not be sent at once, and the 
 months of waiting extended into a year’s delay. He 
 did not wait in idleness, but preached in various 
 churches as temporary supply, and was invited to 
 become the pastor of the Union Church in Worces¬ 
 ter ; but he steadfastly set his face to go to Con¬ 
 stantinople. 
 
 On September 3, 1828, he was married to Henri¬ 
 etta Loraine Jackson, and one month later they sailed 
 for Constantinople, arriving in the city on the 
 29th of January, 1829. 
 
 OBSTACLES 
 
 The first need of a missionary is that he should be¬ 
 come familiar, as soon as possible, with one or more 
 of the languages used in the country where he is to 
 labor; but Mr. Hamlin soon discovered that the rep¬ 
 resentatives of Turkey and Russia were trying to lay 
 an embargo on language. He might speak English, 
 but he must remain tongue-tied as to Armenian and 
 Turkish if craft and force could prevent him from 
 acquiring those languages. His first Armenian 
 
 [15] 
 
teacher had to flee for his life. Mesrobe, his second 
 teacher, was an accomplished Russian Armenian, but 
 soon after Mr. Hamlin began to profit by his valu¬ 
 able instruction the long arm of despotic Russia 
 captured him, with the connivance of the Turkish 
 officials, and he would have been sent to Siberia had 
 he not escaped before reaching Russian soil. The 
 group of missionaries in Constantinople were natu¬ 
 rally indignant that Russia should turn her hand 
 against them in such a way, and Dr. Schauffler, as 
 their representative, hastened to the palace of the 
 Russian ambassador, and entered a protest against 
 the deportation of Mr. Hamlin’s teacher; but Am¬ 
 bassador Boutineff haughtily replied, 44 1 might as 
 well tell you, Mr. Schauffler, that the emperor of 
 Russia, who is my master, will never allow Protestant¬ 
 ism to set foot in Turkey.” 
 
 But Dr. Schauffler, not at all crushed b} 7 such 
 mighty manners — for he outranked Boutineff, being 
 the ambassador of Christ—bowed low to the Rus¬ 
 sian ambassador and said, with equal dignity and with 
 better backing, 44 Your Excellency, the kingdom of 
 Christ, who is my Master, will never ask the emperor 
 of Russia where it may set its foot.” 
 
 Mr. Hamlin had come from the land of David 
 Crockett, where obstacles cannot long hinder prog¬ 
 ress. He was sure that he was right and went 
 ahead, in spite of Russia and Turkey. Sooner might 
 they dam the flow of the Dardanelles than stop the 
 
 [16] 
 
progress of pure religion. The one has the push of 
 the seas behind it, but the other responds to the pull 
 of Omnipotence. 
 
 BEBEK SEMINARY 
 
 Mr. Hamlin’s first foothold for effective service 
 was Bebek Seminary. It was one of the most unique 
 institutions ever established, as to means of support 
 and modes of training. It was designed to promote 
 the education of advanced students through the me¬ 
 dium of the English language, and to use industrial 
 occupations as a source of self-support for the stu¬ 
 dents while pursuing their education. Nothing unique 
 in that? Perhaps not; but the way in which the 
 plan was carried through to success was decidedly 
 unique. 
 
 The search for a site was almost as difficult as the 
 capture of Constantinople, when it was taken by the 
 Turks in 1453. The first parallel towards permanent 
 occupation was the renting of a large house in the 
 village of Bebek, close to Constantinople, but far 
 enough removed to be free from the dirt and dogs, 
 and from part of the obstructive domination of that 
 city. Into this building Mr. Hamlin moved on No¬ 
 vember 4, 1840, taking with him two students and 
 great hopes. 
 
 He at once began to work out the salvation of his 
 hopes with boldness and firm resolution, and God evi¬ 
 dently wrought with him, to will and to do of his 
 
 [17 1 
 
good pleasure. The two students soon increased to 
 twelve. They were Armenians, and the Armenian 
 priest secured a list of their names, with the intention 
 of breaking up the school by force, but Mr. Hamlin 
 outflanked the movement by dismissing the students 
 for a few weeks and sending them home, where, 
 headed by their parents, they brought such influences 
 to bear on the Armenian patriarch that they soon 
 came back to stay, reenforced by two recruits. 
 
 In 1841 the seminary was removed to a larger 
 building in the same village, and the fourteen stu¬ 
 dents became twenty. In 1848 the citadel of the 
 seminary was entered, the great house of Cheleby 
 Yorgaki, a man of wealth who became the friend of 
 Mr. Hamlin, and there he held the fort for many 
 years until he made his final movement for Christian 
 education at Constantinople, the establishment of 
 Robert College. 
 
 In the curriculum of the seminary the attainment 
 of the English language was made prominent, and 
 there was a thorough course in mathematics, phys¬ 
 ics, chemistry, natural and moral philosophy, his¬ 
 tory, and geography, and daily exercise in Bible 
 study. Armenian was studied under an accomplished 
 Armenian professor, and Bebek Seminary took an 
 honorable part in the renaissance of the Armenian 
 language. ' 
 
 [18] 
 
A POLYTECHNIC INSTITUTE 
 
 Bebek Seminary, guided by the universal genius of 
 Mr. Hamlin (we must soon call him Dr. Hamlin), 
 gradually became the busy center of many industries. 
 The range of activity in the school, with its indus¬ 
 trial annexes, extended from carpentry to chemistry, 
 from the making of rat-traps to mathematics, from 
 sheet-iron work to syllogisms, from milling to moral 
 philosophy, from laundry work on a large scale to 
 the cleansing of lives, and from making bread on a 
 commercial scale to the making of a superior quality 
 of men. 
 
 Bebek Seminary, like some other institutions des¬ 
 tined to greatness, was founded on faith rather than 
 on invested funds. No; it was founded on faith and 
 works. Its founder had to make it, if not from noth¬ 
 ing, why, from something next to nothing. He found 
 so many difficulties lying in the path of success, and 
 his methods of overcoming those difficulties were so 
 daring and original, that his missionary associates 
 at Constantinople and the officers of the Board at 
 Boston guardedly gave him permission to carry out 
 his plans, while they stood watching with fear and 
 trembling as to results. 
 
 But this Stamboul Samson, strong in mentality 
 rather than in muscle, never was caught napping by 
 his enemies, never permitted himself to be bound by 
 them, never lost his clear vision, never blundered, 
 
 [19] 
 
never turned the jawbone of a man against his ene¬ 
 mies except with victorious power, never toppled 
 Bebek Seminary in ruins upon the heads of its in¬ 
 mates ; but always, by dint of patience, push, shrewd¬ 
 ness, practical talent, and tireless energy, carried his 
 plans through to success. 
 
 Mr. Hamlin had to make, or adapt, many of the 
 mental tools which he used. For use in the seminary 
 he had to translate works on mental and moral philos¬ 
 ophy, mathematical works, and other books used by 
 his students. Most of the students came to him 
 poorly clad, and they had very little money with 
 which to meet their expenses. They could not sit at 
 his feet, properly clad and in their right minds, with¬ 
 out material help. How should it be brought about? 
 
 He did not ask the Board for means with which 
 to organize an industrial department, but by per¬ 
 sonal solicitation he secured a small sum of money 
 from English mechanics and engineers in government 
 employ, and, providing tools and materials, he fitted 
 up a workshop in the basement of the seminary build¬ 
 ing, where he taught the students to make sheet-iron 
 stoves and stovepipe. 
 
 That percussion orchestra in the basement was far 
 from musical, but it brought in the money. At that 
 date there was hardly a chimney in Constantinople, 
 except in the kitchens, but the faith and works of 
 Mr. Hamlin and his students wrought philanthropic 
 results. Instead of saying to the Turks, “Depart in 
 
 [ 20 ] 
 
peace, be ye warmed and filled,” they warmed and 
 filled them. There was also reflex action, for by the 
 profits of the industry the students were warmed and 
 filled. They were able to clothe themselves neatly, 
 and had money for other necessary expenses. 
 
 Neither did hand work hinder head work. In 
 speaking of it Mr. Hamlin said: “I became fully 
 convinced that two or three hours’ work every day, 
 leaving Saturday afternoon free for recreation, was 
 promotive of studious habits, of good morals, and 
 manly character.” 
 
 ZENOPE 
 
 Like Sir Humphry Davy, Mr. Hamlin thought 
 that he had discovered an Armenian Faraday— 
 his name was Zenope—who had in him the potential 
 qualities of a great chemist. He made such progress 
 in chemistry that Mr. Hamlin desired to send him to 
 England, where a wealthy manufacturer of drugs 
 had promised to give Zenope a practical training in 
 chemistry, and then to establish him in Constanti¬ 
 nople at the head of a drug plant which would sur¬ 
 pass anything else in the city. 
 
 When Mr. Hamlin told the young Armenian of the 
 brilliant opportunities which might be his for the 
 accepting, he was affected even to tears, but more 
 by the kindness of his teacher than by the thought 
 that he must count all things but loss for Christ’s 
 sake. Out of a full heart and a deep consecration 
 
 [21] 
 
he said: “You are my father, but I cannot accept 
 it. When I knew Christ as my Saviour I made a 
 covenant with him that if he would help me through 
 I would devote my life as a teacher to my poor coun¬ 
 trymen, the Armenians.” 
 
 His teacher kindly reasoned with him, tried to 
 show him that by making money as a chemist he 
 could help his countrymen, and asked him to pray 
 over it. But after thanking him warmly Zenope 
 replied, “My life is fixed; I cannot change.” He 
 had caught the self-sacrificing spirit of his teacher, 
 and also of that great Teacher at whose feet he had 
 learned lessons of self-denying service; and this Ar¬ 
 menian Faraday went to Aintab as a teacher on a 
 salary of but little more than twelve dollars per 
 month, where his labors prepared the way for Aintab 
 College. 
 
 OVERWHELMING SUCCESS 
 
 Dr. Hamlin and his students gained such skill in 
 the use of tools that the Turks thought he must 
 be in league with the powers of darkness. They 
 thought that he was a Yankee Satan, and that his 
 workshop was filled with ancillary devils. His mis¬ 
 sionary associates at Constantinople and the officers 
 of the Board did not share in this opinion, but they 
 gradually and decidedly came to the conclusion that 
 he was leaving the work of God too much of the time 
 
to serve tables and save students from walking in 
 rags. They told him so; and to bring matters to an 
 issue they told him that industrial work in the sem¬ 
 inary must cease. It was as though a committee 
 from Antioch had told Paul that he must cease from 
 making tents. Dr. Hamlin thought that hand and 
 head might work in harmony for Christ’s sake. 
 Every blow struck in the shop was intended to build 
 up the kingdom of Christ. When he devoted part 
 of the day to productive industry, it was not that he 
 loved scholastic studies less, but that he loved men 
 more. He wanted to cover the “looped and windowed 
 raggedness” of his students, and to provide the 
 means of meeting other necessary expenses while they 
 were gaining an education. 
 
 But he caught the complainers with guile. He 
 saved his shop by humor, of which he had a large 
 share. He complied, on paper, with the request to 
 close his shop,but said that it would take two or three 
 weeks to settle accounts and to dispose of tools and 
 materials. In the same communication he told his 
 associates at Constantinople that he had forty-two 
 students, most of whom were dependent on the indus¬ 
 trial work carried on in the seminary for the means 
 of support. They were in rags when they came, but 
 they had worked their way out of rags to sartorial 
 decency and a good degree of independence. At the 
 same time their studies had been carried forward with 
 due diligence and gratifying success. He was fully 
 
 [ 23 ] 
 
willing, however, that his associates should take on 
 themselves the responsibility of supplying the phys¬ 
 ical needs of his students. Would they accept the 
 responsibility? 
 
 Fancy the smile that crept around the corners of 
 his firm mouth while he was writing this diplomatic 
 statement! Fancy the consternation which fell on his 
 associates when they read it! He says, in speaking 
 of the result: “ I believe the note was read and abso¬ 
 lute silence followed, until Dr. Goodell, who could 
 never fail of seeing the humorous side, if there was 
 one, burst into a laugh, and moved that Brother 
 Hamlin take his own way to keep out rags.” His 
 industrial annexes were saved—saved to serve, more 
 and more. 
 
 BREAD ON THE BOSPHORUS 
 
 It would require too much time to speak with 
 descriptive fullness of the triumphs of Dr. Hamlin as 
 master of many trades. We must also guard against 
 leaving the impression on any mind that his chief 
 success lay along the line of industrial work. No; 
 he was a Christian educator, the founder of what 
 has become a great college, and his industrialism was 
 by-play; it was the overplus of his genius, and in¬ 
 stead of turning him aside in the least degree from 
 his life work, it was used by him to help forward that 
 work. During the Crimean War he might have be- 
 
 [24] 
 
come a man of large wealth if he had consented to 
 take army contracts to supply bread on a large 
 scale, but he wished to give to Turkey such bread 
 as has been supplied by Robert College—bread for 
 the mind and soul. 
 
 However, he did cast many thousands of pounds 
 of good wheat bread on the troubled waters of that 
 Eastern war, and he received a speedy and helpful 
 return. There was not a single steam flour mill in 
 Constantinople. All the flour was ground by horse 
 mills or by hand. Could he establish a steam flour 
 mill and make good bread, all for the glory of God 
 and the good of Bebek Seminary? That small steam 
 engine which he made when a student in Bowdoin 
 College came to his mind, and seemed to beckon him 
 onward. Was it an ignis fatuus which would lead 
 him into a bog of debt, or a Gideon torch which 
 would lead him on to victory? That success led him 
 to think that he could repeat it on a larger scale, and 
 could make his engine earn money for missionary 
 purposes. 
 
 He did not make the engine—Constantinople could 
 not furnish him with mechanical appliances for so 
 great a task—but he showed great enterprise in im¬ 
 porting a steam engine and milling machinery from 
 the United States, in casting part of the pipe for the 
 steam connection in his seminary shop, in setting up 
 the engine and the machinery by the help of Ure’s 
 Dictionary of the Arts; and, after labors which sur- 
 
 [ 25 ] 
 
passed some of the legendary labors of Hercules, he 
 was ready to grind flour. 
 
 To some it may seem extravagant to say that 
 Florence Nightingale and Cyrus Hamlin carried off 
 the most enviable honors of the Crimean War, 
 
 but there is truth in it, if it is not the whole 
 
 truth. She brought skillful nursing to the wounded 
 soldiers in the hospitals at Scutari, and he brought 
 good bread. How it was done must be told in 
 few words. He dug up a “capitulation” four 
 
 hundred years old, and rubbing the dust out of 
 its eyes he told it to guard his mill. He 
 
 went back to the taking of Constantinople by Meh- 
 met the Conqueror, and discovered that a number 
 of privileges, called “capitulations,” had then been 
 offered to induce people to settle in the captured city, 
 which became the capital of the Turkish Empire, and 
 this was one of the privileges: that “every foreign 
 colony settling at the capital should have the right 
 to own its own mill and bakery free from interference 
 from the guilds.” He was a foreigner; the commu¬ 
 nity of students of which he was head was in spirit 
 a foreign colony; might they not have their own 
 mill and bakery? 
 
 We must not tell of the skirmishes and battles 
 which soon began to hinder the progress of that 
 stolen march. But events do go forward, even in 
 Turkey, in spite of official obstructions, when they 
 feel the push of a masterful man like Dr. Hamlin; 
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
and in due time, having good flour, he was ready to 
 add a new trade to the many which he had then at 
 his command—that of baker. 
 
 Might not a chemist make good bread? He had 
 the theory in his head—the next thing was to have 
 the art at his finger ends. Well, he tried it, and this 
 is the way that he speaks of the result: “My bread 
 came out as flat as a pancake and too sour for mortal 
 man to eat. The next was better, and the third was 
 eatable.” With the help of a Grecian breadmaker 
 he was soon selling bread so sweet, so palatable, and 
 so much above the legal weight per loaf that “Ham¬ 
 lin’s bread” became famous. 
 
 One day he was invited to visit the military hospi¬ 
 tal at Scutari, which was then filled with sick and 
 wounded soldiers, the physical wrecks of that ill- 
 managed Crimean War. Dr. Mapleton, Lord Rag¬ 
 lan’s chief physician, said to him, “Are you Hamlin, 
 the baker?” 
 
 “No, sir,” replied Dr. Hamlin, “I am the Rev. Mr. 
 Hamlin, an American missionary.” 
 
 “That is about as correct as anything I get in 
 this country,” said Dr. Mapleton. “I send for a 
 baker and get a missionary. Thank God, I am not 
 a heathen that I should want a missionary.” 
 
 Before the misunderstanding had gone too far 
 Dr. Hamlin explained how it was that he was both 
 a missionary and a maker of bread; and the result 
 of the conference was that he went away with a 
 
 [ 27 ] 
 
contract to supply the hospitals with a large quan¬ 
 tity of bread each day at a profitable rate per pound, 
 and yet at a rate which was fully one-half less than 
 the price which the English government had been 
 paying for sour bread which the sick soldiers could 
 hardly eat. 
 
 The quality of the bread furnished for the hospi¬ 
 tals continued to be first-class, but the quantity in¬ 
 creased until it was six thousand pounds daily for 
 the hospitals alone, and later it was double that 
 amount. Like the manna in the wilderness, Dr. 
 Hamlin’s bread refused to fall on the Sabbath. When 
 this was announced he seemed likely to lose his con¬ 
 tract ; but, owing to the fact that the souls of the 
 soldiers loathed the heavy, sour bread which they had 
 formerly eaten, the hospital authorities consented to 
 receive the bread for Sunday on Saturday evening. 
 
 Florence Nightingale introduced the bread in hos¬ 
 pitals of which she was the ministering angel, and 
 the demand for it increased to such an extent that 
 the mill of the American missionary could grind only 
 a small part of the flour which his contract called 
 for. He bought wheat by the shipload, and thou¬ 
 sands of barrels of flour at a time. 
 
 It was Florence Nightingale who insisted that 
 Dr. Hamlin’s bread should be retained when Dr. 
 Menzies and a dishonest government purveyor tried 
 to break the contract by spoiling $500 worth of the 
 bread through fermentation, and by substituting for 
 
 [ 28 ] 
 
it bread made of bad materials, that it might be con¬ 
 demned by the commissariat as Dr. Hamlin’s bread. 
 The trick succeeded for a time, but when such under¬ 
 handed meanness was brought to the knowledge of 
 Lord Raglan he ordered that Dr. Menzies should be 
 dismissed, and that another bread contract should 
 be made with Dr. Hamlin. 
 
 That was one of his successful “failures,” for 
 the price of flour rose one-half in the interval when 
 his ovens were having a rest, thus saving him from 
 a large loss. The contract was renewed on terms 
 favorable to Dr. Hamlin, and he not only supplied 
 the hospitals with much more bread than before, but 
 he added to his industries an extensive trade in 
 roasted coffee; he supplied food to Russian prison¬ 
 ers held in Constantinople; he invented and made 
 washing machines and washed the filthy, vermin-in¬ 
 fested garments of British soldiers when the Arme¬ 
 nian women whom he had employed refused to wash 
 them by hand; and he might have had other con¬ 
 tracts, aggregating hundreds of thousands of dollars 
 per year, if he had been inclined to accept them. 
 
 But he had gone to Constantinople in the service 
 of Christ, not to take lucrative army contracts; and 
 in all his industrial activity, whether it was teaching 
 a poor Armenian how to make and sell Boston rat- 
 traps for the support of himself and others, or teach¬ 
 ing himself how to temper mill picks for the dressing 
 of his millstones when no one else could or would 
 
 [ 29 ] 
 
do it, or making flour, making bread, making stoves 
 —diligently doing a score of things—he was all the 
 time about his Master’s business. 
 
 And his Master received all the profits. Part 
 of the returns were turned into near-by channels, 
 for the support of Bebek Seminary and its stu¬ 
 dents ; but with the surplus of $25,000 he built thir¬ 
 teen churches for the American Board in various 
 parts of the Turkish Empire. 
 
 Indeed, he gave for the work of the Board more 
 money than he received as salary during the entire 
 period of his service. Such was not his intention 
 when he went to Constantinople, but his unique per¬ 
 sonality, following the leadings of Providence, had 
 made him a self-sustaining missionary. But, more 
 than that, he enabled scores of young men to gain 
 an education who never could have attained to that 
 blessing had he not taught them to help themselves 
 by various handicrafts. It is said by those who have 
 traveled widely in the Turkish Empire that here and 
 there, often in very humble houses, the one picture 
 hanging on the wall shows the strong features of 
 Dr. Hamlin, and that if he is not revered as Saint 
 Hamlin in those houses, he is remembered as the wise 
 friend and generous helper of many students who 
 since that time have done the work of men. Bebek 
 Seminary came to an end as an institution, but as a 
 quickening force no one can estimate the extent of 
 its work. 
 
 [ 30 ] 
 
In 1860 it was decided to remove the seminary to 
 Marsovan, and Dr. Hamlin’s direct connection with 
 the American Board came to an end, that he might 
 devote his energies to the large work of founding a 
 college at Constantinople. 
 
 ROBERT COLLEGE 
 
 For more than a year before the removal of 
 Bebek Seminary to Marsovan, Dr. Hamlin had been 
 planning his next and greatest campaign, the estab¬ 
 lishment of a high grade college at Constantinople. 
 Then began a ten years’ war with the Turks for the 
 
 ROBERT COLLEGE—FROM THE REAR 
 
 [31 ] 
 
possession of a good site for the institution, for he 
 began to search for a site in 1859, and the corner 
 stone of the college building was not laid until July 4, 
 1869. He earnestly coveted the best site, a com¬ 
 manding elevation overlooking the Bosphorus, not 
 far from the city; but “the owner would not treat for 
 it at any price.” The Turks were as little in favor 
 of an American college overlooking Constantinople 
 as they would have been of permitting the plant¬ 
 ing of an American fortress at the mouth of the 
 Dardanelles. A college in the air, as the dream of 
 Dr. Hamlin, they could not prevent, but they were 
 determined to keep his college in the air, if possible. 
 For nearly ten years he walked about Stamboul, not 
 to tell her towers, mark her bulwarks, and consider 
 her palaces, but that he might gain legal possession 
 of some spot where he could erect a tower of truth 
 from the top of which better things might be seen for 
 Turkey than from any minaret of the capital city. 
 
 Twenty-three sites were examined and abandoned 
 as unsuitable or unattainable. The twenty-fourth 
 site was purchased, “not as entirely satisfactory, but 
 as on the whole the best attainable.” But before 
 building operations began, the original site which 
 Dr. Hamlin had tried to purchase some two years 
 before, the commanding site on the heights of Ru- 
 meli-Hissar, was offered to him at a reasonable price. 
 He thanked God, took courage, bought the site, and 
 said, “Let us arise and build.” 
 
 [ 32 ] 
 
But when preparations for building began, an 
 officer of the Sublime Porte appeared on the scene 
 and politely said to Dr. Hamlin, “Some formali¬ 
 ties are still not completed, and you must wait until 
 they are.” When the officer was asked how long it 
 would take to complete the formalities, he said, “Per¬ 
 haps a couple of weeks.” But in Turkey, of making 
 many obstructions there is no end, and much waiting 
 becomes a weariness to the flesh. The weeks of wait¬ 
 ing ran on into years, until ten years passed by be¬ 
 fore the site originally selected, and afterwards 
 purchased, could be used. It belonged to the college 
 legally, but the Seraglio would not give Dr. Hamlin 
 permission to begin to build. 
 
 But the Sublime Porte could not thus defeat the 
 man from Maine. He retreated to the unused build¬ 
 ing formerly occupied by Bebek Seminary, and there, 
 with a force of teachers, he opened Robert College 
 in 1863, so called because Christopher R. Robert, 
 of New York, gave considerable sums of money for 
 the establishment of the institution. 
 
 It would make too long a story to tell what Dr. 
 Hamlin did for Robert College during the seventeen 
 years that he gave to it the best work of his life; 
 how he journeyed many thousands of miles to raise 
 funds for it in England and in the United States; 
 how, during the eight years that the college did its 
 work within the insufficient premises of the former 
 Bebek Seminary, the attendance increased until there 
 
were scores of applicants who could not be received 
 for lack of room; how the visit of Admiral Farragut 
 to Constantinople in 1868 was construed by Sultan 
 Abdul Aziz as a possible threat that the United 
 States would use force in the interests of Robert Col¬ 
 lege, and an imperial rescript was hastily granted, 
 placing the property and rights of the college on a 
 secure basis; how, in 1871, the college moved into 
 the fine building which Dr. Hamlin had planned and 
 erected for it on the heights of Rumeli-Hissar; and 
 how, after toiling for the establishment of the college 
 for seventeen years like a Hercules, and teaching in 
 it like a Socrates, Dr. Hamlin’s connection with it 
 came to a sudden end. No one knows just why, ex¬ 
 cept, perhaps, that two masterful men, Dr. Hamlin 
 and Mr. Robert, came to a point where they could 
 not work in full harmony. 
 
 STILL PRESSING FORWARD 
 
 His connection with Robert College came to an end 
 in 1877, and was one of the severest trials of his life. 
 He could have died for Robert College with joy, if 
 his death would have advanced its interests, but to 
 live apart from an institution into which he had put 
 so much work and about which his brightest earthly 
 hopes clustered—how could he adjust himself to 
 that? He coveted work, work for which he was emi¬ 
 nently fitted, and in which he found joy. Leopold 
 
 [ 34 ] 
 
says: 44 Wouldst thou discover Nature’s true path to 
 happiness ? Listen to her first command: Labor! 
 The hours fly swiftly to him who has daily occupation, 
 and lifetime creeps slowly away with the idle.” 
 
 All his life long Dr. Hamlin had found joy in 
 work, in bringing things to pass, and for seventeen 
 years he had been doing something which was worthy 
 of the best that was in him, and had received his 
 best. He thought that it was a work which, for a 
 time, might tempt a soul to forego the bliss of heaven. 
 The writer heard him say at a meeting of the Amer¬ 
 ican Board that the time of his departure from this 
 world was at hand; and that after entering the New 
 Jerusalem and looking at the glories of the heavenly 
 city for a short time, he would like to make a straight 
 shoot for Constantinople. 
 
 It was easy to speak thus to a sympathetic audi¬ 
 ence when the disappointments of life lay beneath 
 him, and he was 44 close upon the shining table-lands 
 to which our God himself is moon and sun,” but to 
 be banished from Constantinople and from Robert 
 College when he had yet about twenty-five years to 
 live on earth, still full of life and activity—how 
 could he endure it? 
 
 How nobly he did endure it his after-life abun¬ 
 dantly testified, but in this sketch only a few para¬ 
 graphs can be given to the narration. 
 
 Though cast down by what might almost be termed 
 his eviction from Robert College, Dr. Hamlin evi- 
 
 [[ 35 ] 
 
dentlj was not destroyed. With admirable resiliency 
 of spirit he wrote his book, “Among the Turks,” in 
 the first three months after passing through what he 
 termed one of the great “defeats” of his life—the 
 one just mentioned—but in that book one cannot 
 detect a single note of defeat. Indeed, he dipped his 
 pen in sunshine; and down to the close of his life his 
 letters and his literary productions glowed with de¬ 
 lightful humor and sparkled with brilliant wit. The 
 book by which he will be longest remembered, “My 
 Life and Times,” is one of the raciest and most read¬ 
 able autobiographies in American literature. , 
 
 Because this preacher was wise, he still taught the 
 people knowledge. Not only did he find out many ac¬ 
 ceptable words, even words of truth, words that are, 
 as Lowell puts it, like nails in temple walls to hang 
 armor on, but for nearly a decade of the remaining 
 years of his life two institutions of learning profited 
 by his gifts as teacher and administrator. For three 
 years he filled the chair of theology in Bangor Theo¬ 
 logical Seminary, and for five years he was president 
 of Middlebury College in Vermont, lifting that insti¬ 
 tution out of debt and discouragement to an assured 
 position of strength and usefulness. 
 
 The last fifteen years of his life on earth he dwelt 
 in his own house in Lexington, Massachusetts, still 
 preaching from time to time the kingdom of God and 
 teaching those things which concern the Lord Jesus 
 Christ with all confidence, no man forbidding him, 
 
 [ 36 ] 
 
but many listening to him with great pleasure and 
 profit. 
 
 God was pleased to take him to himself, full of 
 years and honors, without the weary waiting of lin¬ 
 gering illness. His friends brought abundant laurels 
 while he was yet living. On his eighty-ninth birthday 
 some twenty-five of his friends in Boston, including 
 officers of the American Board and Woman’s Board, 
 tendered to him, his wife, and his daughter Emma, a 
 luncheon at the Bellevue Hotel, Boston, and there, 
 around the table, they praised him and his work so 
 heartily and sincerely that his boyish propensity to 
 blush easily came back to him and made him delight¬ 
 fully uncomfortable, but did not tie his tongue nor 
 quench his humor. In June of the same year he was 
 guest of honor at the centennial of Middlebury Col¬ 
 lege, where he made an address, was greeted with 
 great applause, and the nearly nonagenarian ex¬ 
 president, scorning the offered help of horses and 
 wheels, marched in the procession with the tread of 
 a veteran soldier. 
 
 Indeed, he was able to march until he met death. 
 On August 7, 1900, he attended a family reunion of 
 the Hamlin and Washburn families, twenty members 
 of four generations being present, and on the next 
 day he attended the celebration of Old Home Day at 
 Portland, Maine. He was the last speaker that even¬ 
 ing in the Second Parish Church, of which he became 
 a member in his apprentice days and where he had 
 
 [ 37 ] 
 
been ordained to the work of Christian missions 
 sixty-three years before. He returned after the 
 meeting to the house of his nephew, Cyrus H. Farley, 
 where he was to be guest; but on ascending the stairs 
 he was seized with severe pains, the last struggles of 
 a brave but enfeebled heart, and within half an hour 
 he was guest with God on high, no more to go out 
 forever. 
 
 PROSPICE 
 
 From the white summit of his ninety years, 
 
 He bravely looked on life—behind, before: — 
 The Bosphorus, though once a distant shore, 
 Seemed near at hand; and all his former fears. 
 
 His many toils, his “failures,” and his tears, 
 
 Were inter-shot with sunshine, more and more. 
 Until, bow-like and bright, they arched him o’er. 
 Prophetic of his life’s unspent arrears. 
 
 Then, looking forward to that blessed land 
 Where Love abides, and Faith is lost in sight, 
 Trusting in God, he took Death’s offered hand, 
 And passed into that land of endless light, 
 Where all his powers shall find such full employ 
 That life will bring to him unceasing joy. 
 
 [ 38 ] 
 
THE ENVELOPE SERIES 
 
 A Missionary Quarterly 
 Annual Subscription , 10 cents 
 
 Valuable Numbers Recently Issued: 
 
 Ol. 
 
 “Turkey and the Balkan War” 
 
 By Joseph K. Greene, D.D. 
 
 “An International Hospital in Turkey” 
 
 By Cyril F. Haas, M.D. 
 
 “Along Chinese Roads” 
 
 By Irene Dornblaser • 
 
 “Striking Contrasts in South Africa” 
 
 By Cornelius H. Patton 
 
 “Today in Japan, with a Glance at Yesterday” 
 By Enoch Frye Bell 
 
 “Along Turkish Highways” 
 
 By C. Henry Holbrook 
 
 “Jerome Dean Davis” 
 
 By Frank A. Lombard 
 
 r 39 ] 
 
Send contributions for the work of the American 
 Board to 
 
 FRANK H. WIGGIN, Treasurer, 
 Congregational House, Boston. 
 
 Literature and leaflets of the American Board may 
 be had by addressing 
 
 John G. Hosmer, Congregational House, 14 Beacon 
 Street, Boston, Mass. 
 
 Or at the District offices: 
 
 Rev. Edward Lincoln Smith, D.D., 4th Avenue 
 and 22d Street, New York City. 
 
 Rev. A. N. Hitchcock, D.D., 19 South La Salle 
 Street, Chicago, Ill. 
 
 Rev. H. Melville Tenney, D.D., Mechanics Bank 
 Building, San Francisco, Cal. 
 
 THE MISSIONARY HERALD 
 
 A monthly illustrated magazine, attractive, read¬ 
 able, informing. 
 
 Single subscriptions, 75 cents; in clubs of ten, 
 50 cents each. 
 
 FORM OF BEQUEST 
 
 I give, devise, and bequeath unto the “ American 
 Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions,” in¬ 
 corporated in Massachusetts in 1812, the sum of 
 
 .dollars to be expended for 
 
 the appropriate objects of said corporation. 
 
 [ 40 ]