The various nations that compose the population of Turkey are all distinguished in the metropolis by peculiarities which are not left to their option, but are strictly prescribed to them, that there may be no amalgamation, and the Osmanli may be marked everywhere by separate and distinct characters from their Rayas. Not only the manner of their turban and the colour of their slippers distinguish them from their masters, but the hue of their houses; and while the Turk indulges in every gay and gaudy tint, the mansions of the Jew, Greek, and Armenian are confined to dark and leaden colours, and are at once known by their dull and dismal aspect This is particularly distinguished in sailing along the Bosphorus; and so rigid are the Turks in exacting this distinction, that those who violate it are punished with death. During the progress of the Greek revolution, it set a fatal mark on the devoted inhabitants. The troops, in passing up and down the strait, selected these houses as targets, at which to direct their tophees. Wherever a person appeared at an open window, a volley was discharged at him in very wantonness, till the house was riddled with shot. Nothing could be more dismal than the appearance they presented−their dark and dingy fronts torn and ragged, and the inhabitants frequently hanging out of the windows or against the tattered walls. The rage at one time was particularly directed against the priests. After the execution of their venerable patriarch, all sense of sanctity, which the Turks are willing to allow to the sacred character, whatever be the profession, was converted into hatred and insult. The bishop of Derkon was hung against his own church at Therapia; his clergy were executed whenever they were taken, like common felons, on the shores of the Bosphorus; and the beauty of this fair region was deformed by the most appalling sights. The waters, too, bore frightful testimony of these enormities. The bodies thrown into the current were sometimes carried by the eddies into the little bays and harbours, where they remained putrifying in the still water, tainting the air, and exhibiting to the terrified survivors the decaying remains of their pastors, still wrapped in the vestments in which they died.

Happily this dismal period is passed away, and the constitutional gaiety of the Greeks now evinces its usual hilarity, and their music and dancing again enlivens the shores and villages of the Bosphorus. Their social dispositions, evinced in the structure of their houses, is strongly contrasted with those of the Turks. While the windows of the latter are shut up by impenetrable lattice-work, which is always kept jealously closed, and a human being is never seen in the solitary house, those of the former are distinguished by open casements, at which is generally observed some gay groups of laughing female faces, holding a cheerful and unrestrained communication with any passenger. Nor are the houses of their ecclesiastics prohibited from this social enjoyment. The Greek secular priests are allowed to marry: their religion does not inhibit gaiety, though it prescribes many fasts: they have often a numerous family, and the “priest’s house” has nothing of that ascetic and austere observance that marks the celibacy of the Latin church.