The Sun.
London, England, 1854-06-15 00:00:00

CELEBRATING THE COMMENCEMENT OF

THE RAMAZAN AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
The day which began on Friday last, the 26th May,
at sunset, was the fir,t of the Ramazan. On a lofty hill
of the Asiatic shore a mounted Tartar st@od looking to

the west. As the thin pale crescent of the new moon
came out amid the twilight he set spurs to his horse and
rode into Scutari at full speed. The shore was reached,
where stood a soldier with lighted match by a loaded
gun. The report thundered out, sent back a hundred
times by the wonderful echo which is formed by the
winding shores of the Bosphoru.. Scarcely had it died
away when every fort along either cliff answered with a
single gun. Here the flash was a blaze of light, and the
report sharp and loud ; further on two or three together
lighted up the rocks and mingled their roar, multi-
plied by echo until it died away in the distance like
thunder, and, last of all, from the Cyanean rocks,
which guard the entrance of the Black Sea, a
slight glimmer arose, and long after a faint sound
came down upon the wind. Thus commenced the
Rainazan of the year of the Hegira 1270, and for a
month European visitors will be witnesses of the most
ancient and best observed of Eastern ceremonies. This

period is not wholly devoted to mortification, but is a
strange mixture of fast and festival. As is well known,
its chief feature is, that the true believer abstains from
food while the sun is above the horizon—not a drop of
water ora puff of smoke must pass his lips unless he would
feel the vengeance of the Prophet, or incur the anger,
and perhaps the ill-usage, of his more faithful brethren.
For the rich, or even for those whose occupations

are wholly connected with Turkish life, the ordeal. is not
a severe one. They can sleep all day, and rise at night-
fall, to find cook shops and cafes open, and amusements
such ai they delight in, at the corner of every street.
But for the large class who live by labour which
can only be performed in daylight, or who ad-
minister to the wants of Christian residents, the
season is one of great suffering, often resulting
in illness, and sometimes in death. Porters and
boataien are sometimes seen to fall fainting on the
pavement, overcome by the stifling heat of a southern
afternoon, and the abstinence from rood and water for
so many hours. At the present season the Ramazan is
more than usually trying. It retrogrades 11 days an-
nually, so that in the third of a century it makes the
round of the year. At present it falls in the summer
months, and for nearly 15 hours the laborious poor of the
Eastern cities are forbidden to satisfy the commonest
wants. However, they. make up for the privations of
the clay by the sober merriment of evening and midnight.
As the sun declines to the horizon, and the lengthening

shadows and decreasing heat tell him that the hour o
relief approaches, the Turk orders his pipe, the first in
dulgence which occurs to him, since the want o
it has fevered his blood and distracted his brain
during the entire day. It is prepared, and his wife
or servant stands by with lighted charcoal ready to
drop on its well-filled bowl as soon as the first whiff
may be taken without mortal sin. The gun which
announces sunset booms through the air, the eman-
cipated believer seizes the instrument, puffs raven-
ously for a few seconds, and then sinks back with a
feeling of intense enjoyment on his divan. After
some minutes an ample repast succeeds, which is swal-
lowed with all the eagerness engendered by an abstinence
of 14 hours ; the meats are savoury and the mouthfuls
enormous. After these first wants of nature are satis-
fied, he sallies out in search of amusement and conversa-
tion, or repairs to the mosque to offer with more rever-
ence than usual his nightly prayers. As darkness
descends on the ancient city a spectacle succeeds which
strikes the visitor with astonishment, and cannot be be-
held, even by those accustomed to it, without feelings of
admiration. It is the new moon, the twilight which
prevails with us does not exist in this more southern lati-
tude, and the capital of the Sultans is as yet unacquainted
with gas. Therefore the darkness is complete, except
that the milky way is like a flood of light overhead, 'and
Jupiter throws a narrow train of radiance on the waters
of the Golden Horn. All at once little specks of light ap-
pear high up above the loftiest houses, and • grow into
wreaths one above another. The Turks understand well
the art of illumination, although they have never applied
it to the purposes of practical life. Every minaret
of the magnificent mosques has been encircled by rings
of lamps, and the muezzin at the appointed hour has
lighted the crystal globes, which he will replenish until
daylight. Besides this, the dome of every temple is
surmounted by a vast device. The praise of Allah
stands out in characters of flame against the sky, the
structure by which they are supported remaining in-
visible in the midnight gloom. The strange characters
of the East have something mysterious in their appear.
ance, and recall the fancy of old superstitions as to
warnings written in heaven, and the announcement in a
language to be read only by the seer of the fall of empires
and the punishment of -God-contemning beings.
The Turks are turning night into day. Ordina-
rily these primitive people follow the dictates of
nature, and rise at daybreak to retire to rest soon
after the short twilight ends. The officials of Con-
atantinople are not an active race, and yet an Euro-
pean who does not consider himself by any means
a late riser may find on awaking a note from a Pasha
who has been up for hours. Soon after nightfall, during
11 months of the year, the streets of Stamboul are
deserted, except by the ever-howling dogs and the fire-
watchmen, who are going their rounds, beating their
heavy clubs on the pavement. But now,. by the light
of paper lanterns, and under the shadow of the project-
ing wooden shops, a whole population is feasting and
joining in a merriment which from its quietness is ap-
parently wise. Little rush-bottomed seats cover the
ground in every open space, and the quick-eyed waiters
are running to and fro with an activity not to be ex-
ceeded in the Palais Royal. Pipes, coffee, and cool
sherberts are ready for the recreation of any visitor
who is tired of stumbling in the darkness over the
fanged stones of the Stamboul lanes, and who is de-
sirous of observing men and manners as they appear
in the most primitive parts of the city at a time when
national and religious instincts are strongest. Fine
stately old Moslems in real unreformed turbans of
white or green muslin are sitting in a semicircle,
slowly breathing out wreaths of smoke, and conversing
gravely on the state of affairs and the prospect of the
Prophet's disciples. They are sure to be abusing a
Pasha, for the Turk has liberty of speech and uses it ;
the shortcomings of the Executive afford an object for
the pleasurable exercise of invective, and the means by
which power is gained and the manner in which it is
used has long been the subject of proverbs and satirical
sayings. Numbers are walking about in a costume
rather different from that which prevails during day-
light and in ordinary seasons. It is, in fact, their night-
dress. Not, indeed, that it is confined to the simple
garment in which our countrymen retire to rest. It is
an elaborate toilette, and allows the wearer to peram-
bulate the streets without danger to the public modesty
or to his own. The reader will probably remember the
costume in which Bedreddin Hassan was set down at
the gates of Damascus. The modern Turk adds to this
a loose robe and a pair of easy slippers, and wanders out
during Ramazan to smoke and eat cream in the cool
squares at midnight, until the returning light makes the
lanterns dim, and the pigeons begin to rouse themselves,
when he hastens to make a substantial repast and smoke
many pipes in quick succession as a preparation for the
endurance of another day.
But it is not solely in indulgence that the night is
passed. Religious feeling is strong in the Turkish breast;
nor does it require to be roused by circumstances, for it
never sleeps. The horsemen of Constantinople, a class
answering to our own cab-drivers, are most of them
devout, and may be observed at noon sitting in a line on
the ground with heads bent forward engaged in prayer.
While thus employed they will answer no question, and
whoever wants a horse must wait. In Ramazan, at
night, the stranger steps from among a crowd of idlers
into the courtyaed of a mosque, and looks in at the
lofty gate to where the countless lamps are blazing
within, and the worship of the Prophet is being cele-
brated with a splendour which Rome herself can hardly
surpass. The interior shows a dense multitude of kneel-
ing forms, and every head is bowed or raised at once,
in obedience to the Imaum's call, and the re-
quirements of the Moslem liturgy. Each has
put his shoes from off his feet, fur the place whereon
he stands is holy ground ; and they kneel in rows
with faces to Mecca, even though, as in St. Sophia,
built east and west, as a Christian church, the effect be
to spoil the regularity and beauty of the interior. Some-
times among the crowd who throng the street an indi-
vidual may be seen pacing slowly along ; if addressed
he merely waves elf the speaker with his hand, for he is
repeating his prayers, and may not be interrupted.
At this time their religious instincts are stronger than
usual, and political affairs give a deeper interest to the
sacred season by which Heaven may be propitiated. An
opinion seems to prevail among all uninstructed natives
that their calamities are the retribution for some unful-
filled duties of a religious nature, and generally each man
throws the' Lurden-of the fault on his neighbour, or on