During two hundred years

During two hundred years, Europeans, often notable for refinement and culture, and since the Crimean War of 1856, considerable in numbers, have lived in Constantinople surrounded as far as possible by the requirements of their own various types of civilization. They constitute a colony, living under the protection of the curious treaty privilege of extra-territoriality, which, to the European in any Asiatic domain is what the air helmet is to the diver working in deep waters. In this European colony are many men who stand head and shoulders—in point of morals—above the Turks who style them infidel dogs. There are men whose word is sacred under all circumstances, and whose sturdy manliness might act directly to break up the Mohammedan prejudice against Christianity. But there are also in this colony numbers of Europeans who make the name of Christianity a byword by their profligate lives. And there are large numbers of Europeans in this colony who are not really Europeans at all, hut who give, in the eyes of the Turks, character to the whole body, because they are the only part of the colony with which a middle-class Turk can enter into intimate relations.

These are the half-bloods, such as throng the outskirts of every European colony in Asia. They are the somewhat nondescript offspring of European fathers and native mothers. These “ Levantines ” dress as Europeans, and have European passports. They translate the alert and active bearing of the European into a swagger that is peculiar to themselves, and that imposes itself on the simplicity of the Oriental as a token of greatness. They browbeat the natives in virtue of their superiority, they converse in polyglot fluency, pursue amusement as the Euro-pean does not, and they often lie and cheat with as clean a conscience as any native. When they go to Europe they are eyed askance as “ Greeks ” in the clubs and the gambling houses to which they find admittance guided istanbul tour.

Petit Champs of Pera

In Constantinople the average Levantine may be studied any day in the coffee houses of the Petit Champs of Pera, which he frequents as the Venetian does the Piazza of St. Mark’s, because there one may receive one’s friends without expense for hospitality. He also has among his amusements the club, because English civilization demands it. There he gambles for high stakes, because Italian civilization demands the thrill of appeals to chance. He has also the theatre and the concert hall, because French civilization demands the society drama and the singing of girls as a set-off and accompaniment to light tippling. He has also the beer garden in all its forms because German civilization requires that the pleasures of life shall be mixed with beer.

At specified times he has to go out hunting, and mentions the fact as a solemn duty done. If he has a fraction of a drop of English blood in his veins he pays penalty in unseemly and wearisome exertion on the cricket field, the golf links, or in the stern of a sail boat which he calls a yacht. Intellectual pleasures do not flourish in such soil and the Levantine is out of his element in a moment if any one broaches a subject of conversation outside of the celebrated Levantine Quadrilateral of Society, Shop, The Turk, and the Table: Society—that is to say, womankind and amusement; Shop—namely the conditions and incidents of trade; The Turk— including the daily bulls and delicious absurdities of Government officials; and The Table—the art of producing savory meats, drinks, and smokes.

During two hundred years

During two hundred years, Europeans, often notable for refinement and culture, and since the Crimean War of 1856, considerable in numbers, have lived in Constantinople surrounded as far as possible by the requirements of their own various types of civilization. They constitute a colony, living under the protection of the curious treaty privilege of extra-territoriality, which, to the European in any Asiatic domain is what the air helmet is to the diver working in deep waters. In this European colony are many men who stand head and shoulders—in point of morals—above the Turks who style them infidel dogs. There are men whose word is sacred under all circumstances, and whose sturdy manliness might act directly to break up the Mohammedan prejudice against Christianity. But there are also in this colony numbers of Europeans who make the name of Christianity a byword by their profligate lives. And there are large numbers of Europeans in this colony who are not really Europeans at all, hut who give, in the eyes of the Turks, character to the whole body, because they are the only part of the colony with which a middle-class Turk can enter into intimate relations.

These are the half-bloods, such as throng the outskirts of every European colony in Asia. They are the somewhat nondescript offspring of European fathers and native mothers. These “ Levantines ” dress as Europeans, and have European passports. They translate the alert and active bearing of the European into a swagger that is peculiar to themselves, and that imposes itself on the simplicity of the Oriental as a token of greatness. They browbeat the natives in virtue of their superiority, they converse in polyglot fluency, pursue amusement as the Euro-pean does not, and they often lie and cheat with as clean a conscience as any native. When they go to Europe they are eyed askance as “ Greeks ” in the clubs and the gambling houses to which they find admittance guided istanbul tour.

Petit Champs of Pera

In Constantinople the average Levantine may be studied any day in the coffee houses of the Petit Champs of Pera, which he frequents as the Venetian does the Piazza of St. Mark’s, because there one may receive one’s friends without expense for hospitality. He also has among his amusements the club, because English civilization demands it. There he gambles for high stakes, because Italian civilization demands the thrill of appeals to chance. He has also the theatre and the concert hall, because French civilization demands the society drama and the singing of girls as a set-off and accompaniment to light tippling. He has also the beer garden in all its forms because German civilization requires that the pleasures of life shall be mixed with beer.

At specified times he has to go out hunting, and mentions the fact as a solemn duty done. If he has a fraction of a drop of English blood in his veins he pays penalty in unseemly and wearisome exertion on the cricket field, the golf links, or in the stern of a sail boat which he calls a yacht. Intellectual pleasures do not flourish in such soil and the Levantine is out of his element in a moment if any one broaches a subject of conversation outside of the celebrated Levantine Quadrilateral of Society, Shop, The Turk, and the Table: Society—that is to say, womankind and amusement; Shop—namely the conditions and incidents of trade; The Turk— including the daily bulls and delicious absurdities of Government officials; and The Table—the art of producing savory meats, drinks, and smokes.

European Society in Pera

But the Turk finds after a little that in the sphere of European Society in Pera all laws of behaviour can be violated with impunity, since on encountering dubious conduct or a coat of doubtful cut, no one can criticize, lest it prove to be legitimate custom with some of the many nationalities here brought into contact. The result

is a moral anarchy in the foreign colony at Constantinople which can hardly be paralleled else-where. The confusion produced in the mind of a Turk by this state of things was shown not long since by so small a thing as a duel which took place at Constantinople. A Levantine with an English pedigree and an English passport, not having had the opportunity of studying English practice in such matters, was misled into the idea that having had a quarrel with a Russian over a chorus girl in the theatre, English standards of manliness demanded that he should fight a duel in defense of his honour. The local police got wind of the affair; but not being informed as to whether dueling is a sacred right under the religious system of Christendom, and fearing that at the least the privilege may be secured to Europeans under the treaties of extra-territoriality, they dared not act. Finally the British consulate requested the Turkish police to arrest the pugnacious English subject. So they deployed along the shores of the Bosphorus to prevent the duel thus made illegal guided istanbul tour.

Garden on the upper Bosphorus

The two men, however, camped out one night in a garden on the upper Bosphorus, and at the peep of day took boat for the Asiatic shore. The perfect courtesy of their bearing toward each other deceived the police and gave the duelists the time necessary for their purpose. Before the belated police arrived from Europe, the Muslim villagers of Asia had received a lesson in the manners of Christian gentle men. For the Levantine Englishman ran the Russian through the abdomen in the presence of seconds in a perfectly honourable manner, and then taking to his heels he escaped to a Greek steamer, where he was safe from the researches of the Turkish police.

The native Christian can form somewhat of a correct impression as to the evil and the good in the European colony. Thus the effect upon him of an influence that is immoral is hardly more than its effect upon a man dwelling among people of his own social customs. If he is inclined to welcome the influence he is harmed, but if he is inclined to rule himself he is not carried away by the weight of a foreigner’s dominating personality. With the Turk there is no such power of discrimination. He may see one of the strong true men found in the European colony in Pera, but he can no more draw near to him than to a king. Such men do not frequent the Casino or Concert Hall.

If they sometimes appear at the theatre, it is not to mingle in the crowd in the lobbies. They pass by the average Turk without even seeing him. If some phase of business courtesy forces them to notice him, they talk to him politely enough, but never for long. There is nothing so marked in the society of the European quarter at Pera of Constantinople as the lack of subjects for real conversation. No possible theme of common interest can exist unless it be the scandals of the day. An educated Englishman meets a Turk in that society. If the Turk is old, his culture has led him into the Persian and Arabian writers of antiquity. If he is young, Zola and a lesser host of the same school of French writers have been his delight. The Englishman has had little benefit of either source of inspiration. There the two men are, stranded after a few common-places, and they flee to more congenial company at the first good opportunity.

The road toward Buyukdere

The afternoon of the Levantine brings out carriages full of ladies and gentlemen, and sends them spinning over the hills toward the Sweet Waters of Europe, or far up the road toward Buyukdere. The reputation of Constantinople for its bodge podge of races is justified by study of the types seen in any gathering of the ladies of the European colony. There is the long-featured, fair-haired English woman, who clings to the London cut of her dress, notwithstanding its power to attract the astonished eyes of all other nations; there is the stout and crimson German woman, with her fondness for startling buttons; there is the slight and smiling French woman, serene in the midst of a colour scheme harmoniously worked out to the tips of her dainty shoes. There is the Italian woman, black of hair and brilliant of eye, who loves to introduce into her neat dress discords of gold chains, and a hat al-ways too ambitious. There is the buxom brunette of an Armenian, with full lips and too full a nose, and there is the Greek, most celebrated of all the southern peoples for features that are irregular, a voice that is mellow, and eyes that have a special glaze upon them for concealing thought behind a crystal promise of frankness.

Greek from Athens

If there is a woman in all the crowd less liable than any other to find acceptance as a type of beauty in feature or in complexion, for some mysterious reason that woman is sure to be a Greek from Athens. But next to her is the Levantine, who is colourless in her complexion and composite in her features, who assures you that she is English, or French, or Italian, but who knows no environment save that of Pera, although she can talk to you in French or English or Italian or Greek or Turkish, and in either language shows by her accent that it is not quite her own. She too will never venture in her conversation outside of the safe limits of the Levantine quadrilateral, devised to avoid giving offence to unknown and incomputable susceptibilities guided istanbul tour.

The principle of assuming the existence of difficulties unknown and unknowable in a medley of races, limits the character of the social life of Pera. This life is like that in a house where visitors unacquainted with each other have been brought together and must be amused by such devices as the hostess commands. It is marked by a frenzied pursuit of amusements known to be found in every country. One cannot give a dinner party without having it followed by a ball, and preferably a ball in costume or in masque, and as the Turk bent on a tour of exploration among the curiosities of Pera, discovers that Pera ladies, are ogled by lines of young men as they come out of the church of Santa Maria, or gently carried to the ball in Sedan chairs through the narrow streets, he fancies that in this tenderness toward woman he has seen the source of the peculiar power of the European to push his affairs, to succeed in business, and to live in what seems like limitless luxury. Perhaps he has.

Turk emphasizes their contrast

One peculiarity of the out-door recreations of the Turk emphasizes their contrast with those of the West. All of such recreations easily fall in with the requirements of religious duty. It is very common to see the men at one of these family outings withdraw a little from the hum of the crowd that they may give time to worship. The quiet spot which they select commonly shows the Asiatic love to make “ high places ” places of prayer. On the top of a hill they will align themselves facing in the direction of Mecca, and then they will go through the genuflections of the Muslim cult with a relish which is perfectly unmistakable.

After performing the prescribed number of bowings and kneelings, they return to their friends with a clear conscience. As to the Christians of the Eastern Church, the common folk yet untaught by Europeans, amuse themselves with picnics much as do the Mohammedans. Since the most of their holidays are connected with church festivals, their resort is often in the neighbourhood of some country church or holy fountain for these simple festivities which last through the whole day. The visit to the church with a few moments spent in prayer before its altar is as much a part of the privilege of the day as is the enjoyment of the shade of the trees, the balmy air of the open country, and the mingling in the sociable crowd which is lounging out its holiday guided istanbul tour.

On noting the natural and matter of course way in which religious observances are brought into the midst of the recreations of the people, one is apt to conclude that this religious element must bar out excess from such enjoyments.

Pious Oriental Christians

Closer vision shows, however, another curiosity. Pious Oriental Christians cone out of the church on such an occasion to gamble on the gravestones of the churchyard, or to use the convenient flat surface of monuments to the virtues of the departed, as a stand for the bottles and glasses of a disgraceful drinking bout. Pious Mohammedans too, come from their prayers on the hilltop to indulge in the vulgar intrigues for which such a gathering in the open country offers suitable moments, or to laugh over the infamies of the ” Kara Gina” marionettes, or to applaud the professional storyteller whose tales depend for success upon their obscenity, or to feast the eyes on the gyrations of gypsy dancing women whose exhibition of lasciviousness on the Midway Plaisance at Chicago, left marks upon our own people that have not been, and will not be easily removed. In Turkey, the fact that a man prays is no gauge of his moral character. Still, one must admit that when contact with Europeans, who do not pray while they are amusing themselves, has eliminated this curious habit of the Orientals, progress has been made toward abolishing some vestiges of moral restraint.

Another mode of recreation used by the Turks of Constantinople, and enjoyed with all the thrills known by the boy who slinks away from home for a stolen hour of delight at a forbidden circus, is a visit to the amusements of the European portion of the city. The native part of the city is organized upon the theory that the day is done when the sun sets. Excepting during the month of fasting, when day and night exchange places, Turks do not commonly appear on the streets after the last of the five hours of prayer—an hour or so after dusk. But the European part of the city begins its daily recreation with the hours of darkness, and the Turk who ventures into Pera and Galata at that time feels that he is truly within the veil, with that mysterious thing called civilization.

Quite impossible to restrain laughter

The troupe is generally of native talent, and the advantage of hearing a tragedy as rendered by a native troupe is that it is quite impossible to restrain laughter during the proceedings. Some of the plays are comic, and of these such as deal with commercial knavery are often really good. But love, blood, deep laid plots on the part of the hero against the peace of the villain are the necessary staples of the Turkish stage. One of the play-bills will give an impression of the interminable nature of these entertainments:

“ The Ottoman Theatre will be open to the public on the evening of Wednesday, that is to say, the night of Thursday next. The celebrated troop of M. Dikran, the Armenian, will play. English acrobats will perform feats hitherto seen in no other part of the world. There will be an operetta of ten acts, with songs by actresses. There will also be a pantomime of three acts. The performance on this occasion being for the benefit of the public, no tickets will be required.” The slight uncertainty which appears respecting the day of this performance arises from the fact that the Mohammedan day begins at sunset, so that Wednesday evening coincides with the beginning of the night of Thursday. The theatre is one of the institutions which Turks have derived from contact with the West guided istanbul tour.

It is hardly necessary to say that the place is crowded with both men and women at every performance. With all its defects the Turkish theatre is a power. The capital cities of some of the provinces of the empire receive from it their sole effective impression of what the Western world is. The poorest of the native companies and the worst of their plays are taken to cities of the interior and put on the boards. Then the local papers will congratulate the people that Brousa or Adrianople, or Konia, as the case may be, is assuming the characteristics of a European city, for a theatre has now been established.

Sweet Waters

Visitors at Constantinople rarely fail to visit the Sweet Waters, or Geuk Sou, and remember the beautiful little river and the multitude of boats and the masses of people enjoying themselves on the grass. Such expeditions to places where natural beauty is the chief attraction form another favourite recreation of the people of the city. Rarely do we find a people more truly lovers of nature—of fine scenery, of pure air and gurgling water, of the songs of birds, and of the colour-songs which earth sends out in the form of trees and gay flowers. These little expeditions which the people make are the only recreations in which the family is found enjoying itself as a unit.

Under magnificent plane trees, or in cool groves of oak and chestnut the people place themselves by families upon mats furnished by the ubiquitous coffee-shop man. On these mats, spread upon the ground within sight of some stream, or of the sea, the Turk will sit for hours, finding great delight in the pure air, the gracious foliage, the music of unwonted birds, and the prattle of his women and his children. To an American, “ refreshments ” may imply drinks that exhilarate, or at the very least that have “ fizz ” in them, and food of substantial quality.

The Turk who is out for a picnic, has for his refreshment water from some favourite spring, (of which the brand is as carefully tested as though it were champagne) and coffee. For food he has bread and cheese or olives or dried fish, and fruit. A water-pipe (narguileh), and cigarettes which he makes himself fill out the list of his requirements at such a place. His whole excitement is in the beauty of nature and in the dress and the manners of assembled human-kind. As the day wears away the men will mingle more together, chatting or singing love-ditties with evident delight in their own vocal powers. The women meanwhile wander sedately over neighbouring hillsides to gather flowers, while the children frolic in herds upon the grass. The end of the day finds the whole family quite as thoroughly refreshed by their outing as if they had spent the day in circus or drinking house, or in amusements like those that delight the heart of the Coney Islander.

Removes constraint and favours intimacy

We have here a system of feeding which removes constraint and favours intimacy. But conversation does not flourish at one of these dinner tables. Caressing ejaculations of approval of any peculiarly tasty bit, or full-mouthed reminiscences of previous experiences called up by some culinary master-piece, or polite entreaty to one’s neighbour not to neglect the opportunity of the moment, form the staple chat of the dinner hour. That hour is to the Turk a time of serious concentration. To do full justice to the meal he rolls up his loose sleeves because of the activity needed when each companion of the table is in some degree a rival of all others. He views the meal from a purely carnal stand-point, and would be annoyed if there were anything to distract attention from the food. His culture and good heart is shown by his invitation to others to participate in his pleasure. Were he not good at heart he might retire to a corner and growl unutterable threats over his dinner, as a cat or a dog would do guided istanbul tours.

After the absorbing labour of eating, the washing of hands is essential. This is accomplished before the guests leave the table. A single ewer and basin answers the purpose for all. This ancient prototype of the finger bowl is presented with a towel to each guest in turn. So ends the business-like function. At the same time the devout phrase “ In the name of God the Merciful and the Compassionate ” with which the meal is begun and ended, suggests a simplicity of recognition of divine providence in every meal which can hardly fail to soften criticism of the peculiarities by which Turkish customs of the table are distinguished from our own.

After dinner one may spend some time in the garden, which is always made much of by the Turk, even if city requirements give him but a square rod. Or it is quite a usual thing to go into a neighbouring coffee-shop and have a game of backgammon or of cards while taking the usual coffee and smoke. Some idea of the coffee-shops has already been given in this chapter. It may be added in this connection however that the coffee house that is not upon a great thoroughfare becomes a sort of club-house for the residents of the neighbourhood. There they regularly meet to exchange views and to while away an hour or so between evening prayers and bed. One of the features which the Turkish coffee- shop has gained from contact with the Western style of amusements is that few of them now fail to have beer and cognac upon their hill of fare, the latter being served to Mohammedans in a discreet coffee cup in order to save appearances.

Europe is the theatre

Another amusement which has been introduced from Europe is the theatre. It is told as a rather good story of the American missionaries in Scutari, the Asiatic centre of Constantinople, that a few years after the missionary post was established there, a large ungainly structure was erected upon a vacant lot not far away. The new building was singular even for Constantinople. It was made entirely of unplanned boards, had no windows, and had several staircases running up outside of its wall. The building aroused the curiosity of one of the missionaries and in the course of an afternoon walk he visited the place, and made some inquiry as to the uses to which the building was to be put. “ Oh,” replied the owner of the land, very much pleased at the interest shown by a foreign gentleman in his enterprise. “ This is a theatre,—I hope that yon will not fail to come over every evening and we shall be very glad to name it in your honour.” So the theatre had a great sign put up over the door with the inscription “ The American Theatre ” in French and Turkish, and Armenian, and Greek, and Hebrew letters.

Theatres in the European part of the city do not need particular description. They are very much like theatres elsewhere, and the company is commonly imported from France or Germany, as are the plays. But a theatre in the Turkish part of the city is always a vast shed, constructed at the least possible expense and with the least possible provision for comfort. The stage is decorated, and the curtain is a work of art entirely original and unique. So are the plays.

Western influence upon the Oriental

Foreigners give to these beggars until they begin to find them out, and then they commonly resort to more systematic methods of charity, giving freely for the really needy whose case has been investigated, but utterly refusing to give to the professionals. As a result—and this illustrates one of the curious phases of Western influence upon the Oriental—the foreigner is understood by the people at large to have no compassion. I have often heard a native say to a beggar who was ringing at the door of a foreigner’s house. “ Don’t wait there. It is an English house. They never give alms.”

Constantinople has multitudes of occupations as squalid in their real profitableness as that of the Beggars’ Guild. But these fall rather in the class of contrasts than of contacts with the business life of the West. Greater contrast can hardly be imagined than is found between the European business houses of Galata, on the one hand, with their commodious comfort; their desks, chairs, writing machines, file-cases and other paraphernalia of a prompt and accurate business system, and on the other hand the cramped quarters of native merchants. For the latter have as the only roomy thing about the place, the arm chair for the head of the firm, built wide enough to receive his feet as well as the rest of his person. They shun desks as inventions of the evil one for the mislaying of papers which can far more readily be found when carried about in a leather handbag. And they do their writing by resting the paper upon the palm of the hand unless they have employed clerks educated by Europeans, and therefore able to handle paper on a desk or table when preparing the correspondence of the firm guided istanbul tours.

The Turk accustomed to the little open stalls which answer for shops in the native city beyond the Golden Horn, is fairly dazed at the magnificence of the shops of Pera, the European district. He never ceases to wonder at their roomy interiors, their space for everything, making it unnecessary for stockings and ribbons and laces and Berlin wools to be kept in the same box. Pie is astounded at the broad counters for the display of goods, at the masses of decorative material sacrificed for the show windows, and particularly at the use of plate glass, fit for the palace of a king, to shut in the shop front. The most reckless of native merchants will not venture to use glass larger than ten inches by twelve for his shop front. He would feel unprotected behind plate glass.

 Asiatic districts of Stamboul

In the European part of the city there is spaciousness and thoughtful provision of conveniences based on the assurance that the customer will pay for them. In the Asiatic districts of Stamboul is contrasting narrowness of limited expectation, and the repellent tokens of distrust in mankind. This contrast rarely impresses the Turk to the degree of dissatisfaction with his own methods. There are cases where Mohammedan shop-keepers who have Christian clerks have embellished and enlarged their quarters. The Greeks and Armenians who are in trade, generally copy from the Western merchants, if their shops are not hidden in the recesses of the native quarters. But to adopt as a rule a business system of which the principle is frugal self-denial in personal expenses coupled with lavish expenditures in business, would overthrow the philosophy of the whole life.

Generally the most accomplished for the Turk by bringing him to see such fruits of Western civilization is to draw from him ejaculations of amazement at the fidelity with which the devil helps his followers of the Wesf, or at the inscrutable Providence which denies like luxury to the servants of God. And the rumour goes out to all parts of the Empire; and in Kourdisli tents on the Eastern highlands you may hear the children instructed that the reason why Frankish goods are elegant is that the devil walks openly in Frankistan to teach the people.

But the Turk can understand lavish expenditure for pleasure. The amusements of the city therefore promise to bring him upon the same ground as the European. The simplicity of the recreations of this city excites quick sympathy. An evening walk in the Mohammedan districts during the fast of Ramazan, when all of every night seems to be devoted to enjoyment, will show the Turk’s idea of amusement. All of the hundreds of mosques in the city are illuminated and have the balconies of their minarets crusted over with lamps. Where a mosque is large enough to have two or more minarets, ropes stretched between the minarets bear lamps suspended in artistic arrangement so as to form pious texts or other pleasing decorations which sway in the breeze high above the heads of the people.

Smoking narguilehs

A little farther along, a thousand people are packed in a large garden by the roadside, smoking narguilehs or sipping coffee and iced sherbets while listening to a chorus of Armenian singers established on a band-stand in the centre. These men sing love songs in unison and always fortissimo, accompanying themselves on violin, guitar and mandolin. The cost of the evening’s amusement is ridiculously small. A man chooses the place where he will enjoy himself, sits in that place until he has enjoyed himself, if it takes hours, and when he pays the bill for his entertainment it will be six or eight cents. The quiet good-nature of every one in the crowd is most noteworthy. There is no liquor visible, and there is no fighting. Or if there is liquor and fighting it is kept out of sight in places to which people who like such things go apart from the crowd and consume their own smoke, as it were. The police circulate, but it is not to protect men against each other, but to see that no one dares to criticise the Government administration.

To undress for dinner

As to entertainments at home, the Turk frankly and openly makes his table a place to eat—not a place to talk. He makes up for the absence of women from the table where he entertains his guests by the lavishness of its other gratifications. For what are good things made, if not to be enjoyed? As you enter the house you are welcomed by the host, who, if he has not had previous dealings with foreigners, will probably invite you “ to undress for dinner.” Without removing the coat, vest, and trousers of exterior and official life, no Turk can be at ease. He supposes that the European escapes from the closely fitting garments of the outer world as eagerly as himself. One is expected to remove, besides these outer garments, collar and cuffs, and shoes and stockings. A servant stands near with a robe of the feast, made out of coloured chintz, or possibly of curtain cretonne. It is a loose open gown that falls from the neck straight away to the feet. It has no buttons, but is caught together at the waist by a decorative girdle. Thus enveloped you are equipped for the efforts of the table; merely thrusting your bare feet into slippers as you leave the room to go downstairs. The table is a copper tray set on a low stool. Around this table the guests take position on the floor, which has been cushioned for the rite. The round form of the table prevents disagreeable questions of precedence and position, and all present are on an equality; the equality of desire for palate-tickling viands guided istanbul tours.

In the centre of the table are fifteen or twenty small dishes containing various delicacies, such as preserved rose leaves, caviar, dried mutton- chips, cherry jam, cheese, grape jelly, sardines, and the like. Around the edge of the table are fragments of spiced rusk which each guest dips into any dish that suits his fancy. And if with his thumb he picks out a plum, so much the better for him. A slight skirmish with these appetizers prepares the way for the real business of the hour. The soup is a thick puree which defies analysis of its contents save for its liberal sur-face dressing of olive oil. Aside from that single dish, the menu is not distasteful in any of its parts. It is thirteen courses long. As a whole it might be criticised, since it has intensely sweet dishes and meats and vegetables in regular alternation, while each course is served in a single dish in which all may dip their sop of bread or their prehensile finger tips.

At the beginning of the dinner each member of the party is supplied with a pewter fork and a highly ornamented horn spoon, much as the steerage people on an Atlantic liner are supplied at the beginning of the voyage with the table ware which is to last them through all the emergencies of the trip. These implements the diner-out uses as taste or fancy may dictate; and if a case arises beyond the scope of fork or spoon alone, the fingers are expected to come into action to secure control of any savoury but refractory morsel which the central dish offers to the competition of the party.

Open and brilliantly lighted

The shops are open and brilliantly lighted. Whatever there is in the city at the moment in the way of foreign importation for pleasure, whether it is theatre, circus, cinematograph or menagerie, is brought to the Mohammedan districts of the city for the delectation of the faithful and their encouragement in religious observances. Such outside attractions are deemed especially useful in a time of religious mortification since the relaxation of the night assists endurance of the stringency of the day.

The sidewalks are covered with chairs or low stools for such as prefer to watch the throng while comfortably smoking or eating ice-cream. The lack of street lamps in those streets which are off from the main thoroughfares is supplied by the enterprise of coffee-house keepers. Every, twenty or thirty feet these public benefactors have driven into the pavement a short rough stake, on the top of which is fixed a glass lantern with flaring candles. A constant stream of men, women, and children, laughing and happy, is moving along the road way unterrified by the multitude of horses, carriages and crowded street cars. The people know that if harm comes to any pedestrian by collision with a vehicle, the driver will not only be arrested but will be well beaten by the police before his case is investigated at the police station.

Street vendors fill the air with their plaintive but not unmusical cries. Baskets of peaches, melons and cucumbers (which latter are to be eaten as one would eat a stick of molasses candy) jostle trays of green walnuts, unroasted peanuts or roasted pumpkin seeds, or respectfully make way for perambulating tubs of ice-cream that swing from a yoke on the shoulders of the most cavern-outslugged man in the crowd. Each class of edibles is presented by the man whose inventive genius has discovered the particular phrase most likely to arouse desire in all hearers to partake o£ the proffered viands. Even the sellers of icewater shout with the frankest seriousness guided istanbul tours, “ Water of Life! Who wishes to renew his heart? Here is water of Life to restore the soul ? ” Hand- organs and hurdy-gurdies hired for the night by enterprising coffee-shops, fill the air with mellifluous repetitions of their limited score.

One coffee-shop is filled with the members of a local fire-company who have turned it for the moment into a private club house. They are a stalwart band of young fellows dressed in white, with bare legs and bare arms, and with throats and brawny chests fully open to the air. The badge of their type is the gaily coloured cotton handkerchief which the Turk of the city winds about his red cap when he feels particularly wicked, and intends to act up to the feeling. These young men have a private band of their own.

There are two kettle drums hung across the operator’s knee, and beaten with a leathern strap; there is an earthenware jar, having its bottom replaced by a tight drumhead on which the musician beats with both hands; there is a sort of flageolet which gives forth a tone dis-tressingly nasal and most penetrating in quality, and there is a .French horn. This band plays a few bars in a minor strain, vivacious in movement and mighty in volume. Then it ceases, and one of the young fellows, with his fez set on the very back of his head, lifts up his voice in a love ditty sung to the same tune, but in the slowest possible time. The effect on the audience is that of one of Madame Scmbrich’s solos in the Metropolitan Opera house. Passers in the street pause at the door to enjoy the emotions of that song, and the performance will continue for hours without variation.