thin eight years from the deposition of Ibrahim, had successively held
the reins of power for short periods; and not less than six had been
raised to, and deposed from, that precarious dignity, within the last
ten months, while the audacity of the troops, and the helplessness of
the executive, had reached an unparalleled climax. In a memorable
insurrection, arising from the depreciation of the coinage, which marked
the spring of 1656, the revolters, not contented with their usual
license of plunder and bloodshed, forced their way into the palace, and
exacted from the young sultan the surrender of two of his favourite
domestics, who were instantly slaughtered before his eyes; while various
obnoxious public functionaries were dragged to the At-meidan, and
summarily hanged on the branches of a large plane-tree;[4] and for
several weeks this proscription was continued, till the cry of "Take him
to the plane-tree!" became a watchword of as well-known and fearful
import, as that of "A la lanterne!" in later times. In this emergency,
when the fabric of government seemed on the verge of dissolution, an
ancient Anatolian pasha, Mohammed-Kiuprili, who had lately repaired to
the capital, was named by her confidential advisers to the
Sultana-Walidah as a man whose eminent discernment and sagacity, not
less than his fearless intrepidity, rendered him especially fitted for
the task of stilling the troubled waters. In opposition to these views
it was contended, that the poverty of the proposed premier would prevent
his securing the adherence of the troops by the largesses which they had
been accustomed to receive, and the project was apparently abandoned;
but the incapacity and unpopularity of the grand-vizir, Mohammed-Pasha,
(surnamed _Egri_, or the Crooked,) soon made it obvious that a fresh
change alone could prevent another convulsion. On the 15th September
1656, therefore, in a fortunate[5] hour for the distracted empire,
Kiuprili was summoned to the presence of the sultan, who had now,
nominally at least, assumed the direction of affairs, and received from
his hands the seals of office.

[4] The Turkish historian, Naima, fancifully compares this plane
to the fabulous tree in the islands of Wak-Wak, the fruit of
which consisted of human heads, as is fully detailed in the
romance of Hatem Tai, besides various passages of the Thousand
and One Nights. Under this same plane, by a singular instance of
retributi