unpleasantry of this kind, by not making them
acquainted with each other. A youth on
leaving the harem, therefore, is often astonished
at the number of his unknown relatives—
more surprised, indeed, than gratified. Should
he eventually become wealthy and powerful, a
sure title to his favour used to be to dispose
effectually of a few of them, no matter how,
so that they were never heard of any more;
but recently this practice seems to have
fallen off.

Fine fat slaves, sound in wind and limb,
and good steppers, are on sale daily at the
bazaars; and there is always a large stock on
view for ready money, or the bill of an
approved party. Ladies once established in
the family are unsaleable by law; but all
others may be had at reasonable prices,
according to the season and demand. If a Jew or
even a Christian want a good serviceable
slave, there are always plenty of his own
persuasion ready for inspection or purchase. The
Mahommedans of our species are reserved
solely for Mussulmans. A slave merchant
is a highly respectable person in Turkey;
indeed, almost on a level with a British
horse-dealer: a profession much adorned by
our noblemen: in fact, all good judges of
flesh hold both professions in the highest
esteem. On the whole, however, perhaps
the Turk has the best of it. He does not
require stables, and the animals fetch a larger
price. He has never occasion to be solicitous
about the price of oats, and need provide, for
his stock, nothing beyond a strictly moderate
dietary.

Mr. Urquhart gave a tolerably long list of the
things in which we differ from the Turks, and
in which the Turks differ from us; but there
are still some others. In Turkey, the left side
and not the right is the place of honour. The
Turks are so lost to all sense of proper feeling,
as to bury their dead without any unnecessary
fuss or parade; whereas, we think it precisely
the proper time to make a disturbance,
and to fire off the great family guns, so that the
delightful vanities of life may not desert a
man until we have quite done with him.
Their dead are so buried as to be dissolved
speedily; ours are preserved, precisely that we
may be always in a lively state of expectation
for the return of their diseases; and that, as
they cannot come back to us, we may join
them as soon as possible.

The Turk loves fine horses and servants, but
he is more or less indifferent about his clothes.
As for the fine arts, our excellent new
acquaintances have not, hitherto, troubled
themselves much about them. They think the
acquisition of useful knowledge, and the
motives which founded the Penny Magazine,
altogether beneath the dignity of a wise
man of the East. Crossing your legs, and
smoking an unmanageable pipe is more
rational and more easy. Such is their opinion.
Thus it turns out that the art of writing is a
rare accomplishment in Turkey; it is even a
trade, and practised by very few. It is
understood to take twenty years' diligent
sapping to acquire so much knowledge as may
enable an individual to look out a word in
Mr. Redhouse's Turkish dictionary, and then
the individual must be Mr. Redhouse himself;
indeed it would be hardly going too far to
say that every man makes his own Turkish.
It is certain that, during a tolerably close and
extensive experience in the country, I never
met two intimate friends, one of whom would
agree that the other understood his mother
tongue, as it ought to be understood.
Printing is entirely in the background. At
Constantinople there are but two newspapers;
and one is constantly knocking up for want
of subscribers. There is no daily journal, and
there are six hundred thousand or seven
hundred thousand resident inhabitants,
besides strangers. This little fact will show, as
well as most others, how thoroughly our new
acquaintances are likely to be informed on
current events, and why they often suppose
Great Britain to be an island in the Red Sea.
Indeed, their wisdom and intelligence in such
respects is hardly to be surpassed; and the
facts I have related, and a few others,
seem to hint to me that their language is
likely enough to be extinct in a few years.
The Greeks positively will not learn it, and
the abolition of the Christian disabilities,
together with the abolition of the Greek
kingdom—which seems to be threatened—will
throw almost all public business into Greek
hands; for nearly all the notable activities in
Turkey, whether political or otherwise, are
foreigners; even artisans are strangers, down
to the men who serve in the docks and
arsenals; but it is not easy to see how this
should be otherwise, for the Koran expressly
forbids the carving of any kind of image;
and, with a refreshing contempt for practical
people, declares the finest efforts of handiwork
in the world, simply abominable. The
only really worthy employment for a Regular
Turk's money appears to be building
a mosque; but the triumphs of Turkish
architecture, of late years, have been
anything but remarkable. They have always
lacked the airy and elaborate grace of Arab
buildings; and I could point out as few
edifices erected by them which are altogether
satisfactory as I could in England.

The political history of Turkey will not be
found pleasant reading for a merciful man. It
seems little else than a foul story of poisonings,
assassinations, massacres, pleasingly enlivened
by the moral reflections of Sultan somebody
at every new enormity. But I am not therefore
of opinion that the Turks are cruel as a
nation. Too much power is good for nobody.
The sultans had too much power, and they
misused it. For the rest, they were generous,
simple, and sincere, when it was not their
interest to be otherwise, and when their
childish wiles were not called into action by
having to deal with a Greek. Such they