bric must
fall. Its ceremonies, as well as its creed, rest entirely on the
recognition of Mahomet as the Prophet of God. However the Turks may change
in other respects, in all that concerns their religion they must continue
the same.

Until within a few years, a visit to the mosques, especially the more
sacred ones of St. Sophia and Sultan Achmed, was attended with much
difficulty. Miss Pardoe, according to her own account, risked her life in
order to see the interior of St. Sophia, which she effected in the
disguise of a Turkish Effendi. I accomplished the same thing, a few days
since, but without recourse to any such romantic expedient. Mr. Brown, the
interpreter of the Legation, procured a firman from the Grand Vizier, on
behalf of the officers of the San Jacinto, and kindly invited me, with
several other American and English travellers, to join the party. During
the month of Ramazan, no firmans are given, and as at this time there are
few travellers in Constantinople, we should otherwise have been subjected
to a heavy expense. The cost of a firman, including backsheesh to the
priests and doorkeepers, is 700 piastres (about $33).

We crossed the Golden Horn in caiques, and first visited the gardens and
palaces on Seraglio Point. The Sultan at present resides in his summer
palace of Beshiktashe, on the Bosphorus, and only occupies the Serai
Bornou, as it is called, during the winter months. The Seraglio covers the
extremity of the promontory on which Constantinople is built, and is
nearly three miles in circuit. The scattered buildings erected by
different Sultans form in themselves a small city, whose domes and pointed
turrets rise from amid groves of cypress and pine. The sea-wall is lined
with kiosks, from whose cushioned windows there are the loveliest views of
the European and Asian shores. The newer portion of the palace, where the
Sultan now receives the ambassadors of foreign nations, shows the
influence of European taste in its plan and decorations. It is by no means
remarkable for splendor, and suffers by contrast with many of the private
houses in Damascus and Aleppo. The building is of wood, the walls
ornamented with detestable frescoes by modern Greek artists, and except a
small but splendid collection of arms, and some wonderful specimens of
Arabic chirography, there is nothing to interest the visitor.

In ascending to the ancient Seraglio, which was founded by Mahomet II., on
the site of the palace of