The difference that exists between Eastern and western Mohammedanism in Asia is indeed a remarkable phenomenon, and deserves a closer examination. Upon my asking the Mollahs in Bokhara how it happened that they were better Mohammedans than the people in Mekka and Medina, where Mohammed had actually lived and taught, they answered: that "the torch, although sending its light into the far distance, is always dark at the foot,"--Mekka being meant by the foot of the torch, and Bokhara the far distance. In an allegorical sense this may be correct, but Europeans are not silenced by similes of that sort; and, since the fact deserves attention, we will endeavour to ascertain, first--the essential points of the difference in question; and, secondly--the causes for it. Upon examining in detail the various points of contrast between Eastern and Western Mohammedanism, the chief characteristic feature is, no doubt, the wild fanatic obstinacy with which the Mussulman, in the far East, clings to every single point of the Koran and the traditions, looking with terror and aversion, in the true spirit of the Oriental, upon any innovation; and, in a word, directing all his efforts to the preservation of his religion at that precise standard which marked its existence in the happy period (Vakti Seadet) of the Prophet and the first califs. This standard, however, is not sufficiently apparent, since Islamism, in those countries, has assumed a form such as a few eccentric interpreters among the Sunnites desire, but which, so far as our knowledge extends, _has never existed in reality_.
Fanaticism, the chief cause of hypocrisy and impiety, has disfigured every religion, so long as mankind, living in the infancy of civilization, has been unable to perceive the pure light of the true faith. All nations and all countries have given proof of its existence, but nowhere does it appear in such glaring colours, or wear such a disgusting aspect, as in the East. Here, religion, in order to improve the mind, deals chiefly with the body; here, in order to exercise moral influence, the devotee is occupied with physical trifling, and, neglecting the inner man, as may be supposed, every one strives for outward appearance and effect. In Bokhara the principle reigns paramount: "Man must make a figure,--no one cares for what he thinks." A man may be the greatest miscreant, the most reprobate of human creatures; but let him fulfil the outward duties of religion and he escapes all punishment in this as well as in the next world.