The Argosy — page 234: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

220 Remembrances of Constantinople. their own faith will not render unholy and pernicious everything animate or inanimate on which it falls. Happily the superstition is not universal among the Turks, as it is among the Egyptians. Very little real good is done by a wealthy Turk, here and there, being sent to Paris or London to pick up Western civilisation; nothing will really enlighten the nation but the education of the women. The granting them freedom before they know how to use it is beginning at the wrong end. Knowing nothing of modesty, honour, or self-restraint of any description, it is desirable that they should keep a dangerous power—their beauty—out of view, and that until they have been taught morality and decorum they should be subjected to the only force they are capable of understanding—physical force. Our dragoman asserted that, as a rule, Turkish men cared very little about their women retaining the veil, but that they themselves, “sur- tout les vieilles et les laides,” are great sticklers for old ways. However, the ladies, of Constantinople at least, have become very lax as regards concealing the face, for the yashmaks of many that I saw were of the most transparent tulle. The falling off from the time-honoured traditions of the Prophet is deplored by many an ancient conservative Turk, who remembers that, until the introduction of heterodox Western ideas and habits, every good Mussulman wore either red or yellow slippers. Now such a thing is scarcely to be seen on a man’s foot in Constantinople ; the women alone stick to their colours. For- tunately, the good mother’s wrath and her attention were diverted from me by the opportune advance of the cortége accompanying the Sultan. Some twenty or thirty splendid horses, richly caparisoned, were led past us by grooms, and were followed by a troop of cavalry, after whom rode, two and two, about forty of the Pachas. They were on spirited horses, which they managed well, although the shortness of their stirrups, andthe extreme obesity of most of them, prevented them from appearing to us elegant riders. They wore blue frock-coats, European trousers, and red fezes. A crescent of diamonds was suspended from each man’s neck. They all looked grave enough to be going to a funeral. One who rode alone, and was twice as fat as the others—I pitied his poor horse—was pointed out as the Grand Vizier. His countenance was open and good-natured, and he had a clear, quick eye. The Capudan Pacha, who had married a sister of the Sultan, was a remarkably handsome, intelligent-looking man. We were told that he was a great admirer of French literature, and that he delighted in reading Lamartine’s poetry aloud to his one wife! The Pachas were followed by ten of the Sultan's favourite horses, magnificent creatures. The saddles and housings were of crimson velvet, bordered with gold embroidery. At each corner of their eaddle-cloths was a large bouquet of diamonds. The Sultan himself was dressed just as when he comliichooks.com