The moral and intellectual progress of this numerous population, under the horrible oppression which crushes it, has been such as may well excite regard.  Slaves, under barbarous masters, the Greeks have still aspired after the blessings of knowledge and civilization.  Before the breaking out of the present revolution, they had established schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press.  Wherever, as in Scio, owing to particular circumstances, the weight of oppression was mitigated, the natural vivacity of the Greeks, and their aptitude for the arts, were evinced.  Though certainly not on an equality with the civilized and Christian states of Europe,—­and how is it possible, under such oppression as they endured, that they should be?—­they yet furnished a striking contrast with their Tartar masters.  It has been well said, that it is not easy to form a just conception of the nature of the despotism exercised over them.  Conquest and subjugation, as known among European states, are inadequate modes of expression by which to denote the dominion of the Turks.  A conquest in the civilized world is generally no more than an acquisition of a new dominion to the conquering country.  It does not imply a never-ending bondage imposed upon the conquered, a perpetual mark,—­an opprobrious distinction between them and their masters; a bitter and unending persecution of their religion; an habitual violation of their rights of person and property, and the unrestrained indulgence towards them of every passion which belongs to the character of a barbarous soldiery.  Yet such is the state of Greece.  The Ottoman power over them, obtained originally by the sword, is constantly preserved by the same means.  Wherever it exists, it is a mere military power.  The religious and civil code of the state being both fixed in the Koran, and equally the object of an ignorant and furious faith, have been found equally incapable of change.  “The Turk,” it has been said, “has been encamped in Europe for four centuries.”  He has hardly any more participation in European manners, knowledge, and arts, than when he crossed the Bosphorus.  But this is not the worst.  The power of the empire is fallen into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs to the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many despots as there are pachas, beys, and viziers.  Wars are almost perpetual between the Sultan and some rebellious governor of a province; and in the conflict of these despotisms, the people are necessarily ground between the upper and the nether millstone.  In short, the Christian subjects of the Sublime Porte feel daily all the miseries which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from slavery, and from religious persecution.  If any thing yet remains to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that every office in the government is not only actually, but professedly, venal,—­the pachalics, the vizierates, the cadiships, and whatsoever other denomination may denote the depositary of power.