stole over his rugged features, "I see no
good will come of you." I was abashed at
this view of the case, and tried to make my
peace with a liberal donation and words of
homage; but it was long before the coffee-
house potentate would have anything to say
to me. It was not, indeed, till my abject
submission and deferential acquiescence in his
councils upon all occasions had attracted
public attention that he permitted me to
enter the circle of his courtiers and enjoy the
benefits of his half-reluctant patronage. I
still find it prudent to pay him tribute; which
he receives on all occasions, without the
smallest acknowledgment, as a right — a right
to be obtained from mankind generally, at the
edge of the sword.

Nor is Hadji Hassan content with mere
tribute. He requires personal homage, and
is as angry with all who do not pay it
gracefully as Mahomet the Second was with
Gatelusio, Prince of Mytilene, for neglecting
to go and kiss his hand after the conquest
of Constantinople. One day, the weather
being rather windy, I did not present
myself to make my obedience as usual;
but the next, as I was proceeding contritely
to the coffee-house, the despot met me half-
way, and appeared disposed to contest my
farther progress. "Has he been ill?" said the
Hadji to Hamed, my pipe-bearer, indicating
me with a contemptuous jerk of the thumb.
The pipe-bearer, who has a belief in Hadji
Hassan, and dreaded the consequences of his
admission, shook his head mournfully. "Why
did not he come, then, yesterday?"
resumed the Hadji; and diving into his coffee-
house, overlooked my presence for the rest of
the afternoon, leaving me a living monument
of his wrath. Hamed tried in vain to soothe
him. He would hold no intercourse with
either of us; and when my bold Albanian
strutted off to Hadji Hassan's little den
to fetch a chair for me, the autocrat
immediately closed the door, and preferred to dwell
in utter darkness with his coffee-cups and
nargilly bottles, rather than permit me to sit
down in his presence. After a time he
carefully peeped out to see if my servant was
gone; and, finding no signs of him in the
neighbourhood, came forth in the daylight
again, carefully closing the door after him, and
locking it when called away to serve any of
his more honoured customers. For three
days my public disgrace continued in the
sight of all men. In vain the Pasha opened
negotiations on my behalf. In vain I offered
to surrender at discretion. Hadji Hassan
would have nothing whatever to do with me.

At last it was suggested to me by a mutual
friend, who must have been born a
diplomatist, that I might perhaps make my
peace by offering a persevering course of
civilities to an ill-conditioned little dog, who
lived with the coffee-house despot in a
state of great intimacy, and was the general
terror and aversion of his customers. I
acted on this advice; and the Hadji's
heart seemed to soften towards me. On the
third day, about half an hour before sunset,
Hadji Hassan approached me with his head
turned the other way, and a three-legged
stool in his hand. Suddenly he stopped; and,
pretending to perceive me by accident, dabbed
down the stool, and immediately went away
with a sort of grunt which might mean many
things. Shortly afterwards he beckoned
Hamed to him; and, having sent me a
peculiarly bitter cup of coffee which I drank in
thankfulness of heart, I was permitted to
receive the congratulations of my friends on
my restoration to favour.

What Dick's and Button's coffee-houses were
to the wits of Queen Anne, Hadji Hassan's
coffee-house is to the quidnuncs of this island
of Mytilene. It is the general assembly house
of the magnates of our little world. It is here
that we discuss the affairs of the earth, and
pass judgment on the mighty thereof. It is
here that we tell our fustiest stories, and
prepare a way for the official business which
may not be handled too abruptly. It is
here that the Pasha and the Cadi, with
other grave and reverend seignors, condescend
to lay aside the cares of state, and to mingle
with common men. It is here that the veil
which covers mankind in public is withdrawn;
where they take off the mask and unclose the
shutters, letting one into something of the
mystery of their inner lives. It is here that I
learned the Cadi is a bachelor, and that the
Pasha considers flannel good for the chest. It
is here, also, that I first grew to appreciate the
Turkish gentleman at home, and to love him;
to admire his sweet temper and quiet dignity of
manner; to revel in the fresh simplicity of his
quaint and harmless conversation; to
penetrate his childlike belief in the marvellous,
and to reconcile it with his innate and
chivalrous love of truth, and of all things grand
and noble; to find out how ingenuous he is,
how naturally humane, how large in his
charities, how unenvious in his friendship,
how invariably courteous, and how actively
kind; to understand the complete loyalty of
his character, and his excessive, his nervous
anxiety to act as he believes it is right to
act; his devoted respect for the faith of his
fathers, and his tolerance of all other creeds;
above all, the entire absence of all
bombast and pretension, which I think
belongs to him essentially. It was on these
delightful summer evenings that I have been
wont to mark his mercy to animals, his friendship
for his horse, his knightly love of his
arms, and the pathos, half ludicrous half
touching, with which he regrets the times
when the followers of Bajazid and Orchan, at
the utmost speed of their chargers, subdued
the regions of the east and west.

I have lingered for hours enchanted by his
grave and reverend discourse, by his salt
aphorisms and wondrous fancies about far-
away things; and I think I have grown