t the Seraglio asked them what were their demands; and
the whole Divan breathed more freely when the answer came that it was
gold they wanted, and not blood--the blood of their officers. And
when, after the great Feast of Bairam, there was the usual
distribution of pilaf, and the dangerous kettles were filled full with
this savory mess of rice and sheep's flesh, the Sultan, all trembling,
would anxiously watch to see how the majestic Janissaries partook of
their pottage. If they devoured it voraciously, that was a sign of
their satisfaction; but if they only touched it in a finiking sort of
way, then the Sultan would fly into the Seraglio, and lock himself up
among the damsels of the harem, for it was now certain that their
lordships the Janissaries were displeased, and it was well if their
displeasure only expressed itself by reducing a whole quarter or so of
the city to ashes.

Two Sultans had tried to break in two this dangerous double-edged
weapon, which inflicted as many wounds in the heart of the realm as
ever it dealt outside; but the Janissaries' magic influence was so
interwoven with, so ingrafted in, the mind of the nation that public
feeling was on their side, and both rulers perished in the bold
attempt. They dragged Sultan Osman forth from the Seraglio, and set
him on the back of an ass with his face to its tail, carried him in
derision from one end of the town to the other, and then flung him
into the fatal Seven Towers, where the Turkish rulers and their
relatives are wont to be buried alive and die forgotten. Mahmoud II.'s
father, Selim, on the other hand, expired beneath the sword-thrusts of
the rebels, and those swords were still sharp and those hands were
still strong when the son of the man whom they had slain sat on the
throne, and under no other Sultan did the throne tremble so much as
under him.

In these days the mighty corps of the Janissaries lived only to commit
crimes or gigantic mistakes; its ancient glory was not renewed. During
the last century their arms had constantly been shattered whenever
they came into collision with the progressive military science of
Europe. In the course of the ages the flowers in Begtash's garden had
sadly faded. The flowery petals of their glory had fallen from them,
and only the thorns remained; and even these were no longer the thorns
of the brave thick-set hedge which defends the borders of the garden
against would-be invaders, but the stings of the nettle