Rousseau has wisely observed, “Il faut Étudier la sociÉtÉ par les hommes, et les hommes par la sociÉtÉ,” and as the tone of society in all countries is derived from the courts and the wealthy, so also in Turkey, the sultan and his court are the model of domestic life and its institutions.

Sultan Abd-ul Medjid Khan, the Padishah of the Osmanlis, or the reigning monarch of Turkey, was born May 6th, 1822, and succeeded his father Sultan Mahmoud, July 1st, 1839, at the age of seventeen.

He has a brother and a sister, both younger than himself.

His brother, Aziz Efendi, lives in the same palace with him, having apartments therein for his own use and accommodation.

His sister AdilÉ Sultan, who is married to Mehmed Aali Pasha, the ex-Grand Vezir, resides in a separate palace on the Bosphorus.

The sultan has until now had nine children, two girls and seven boys, but none of his children will succeed him while his brother is living; for the law of the country requires that the eldest living male member of the Imperial family shall ascend the throne.

The ceremony of the coronation consists simply in escorting the new sultan in a state procession, to a particular mosque at Eyoub, at the northern extremity of the city, where he girds on the sword of state after suitable prayers, and is thus constituted Padishah.

The Princes Regent of Turkey, were formerly shut up at a place called Kafes or Cage, within the old Seraglio, where they were watched and closely guarded, and never allowed to go abroad—with a view to avoid intrigue or civil commotion. But Sultan Mahmoud first broke the unsocial chains of ancient usages; his successor has nobly followed in his father’s footsteps, and allows his brother liberty to go out when he wishes, but not without a formal application for permission, which is enjoined upon him by court etiquette.

The two brothers differ very materially from each other, in temperament and character. The sultan is of a mild and affable disposition, and so willing and yielding is he on matters of state to please his people, that he is more ready to be governed than to govern. His brother, on the contrary, is very stern and passionate, and has the same determined character as his father.

Abd-ul-Medjid is of medium stature, rather delicately formed. His eyes are dark and heavy in expression, with lofty and arched eye-brows; his beard and moustaches of a dark auburn hue, are carefully trimmed and completely conceal the expression of his lower features.

His complexion is very pallid, and his whole air decidedly nonchalant.

On all state occasions he appears in public on horseback, wearing the national fess, ornamented with the royal aigrette in brilliants.

His short Spanish cloak falls in graceful folds around his person, the collar of which is also adorned with diamonds. In a word, his lofty carriage and beautifully caparisoned steed quite realize the picturesque ideas generally conceived of an Eastern monarch.

He never salutes any one in public or private, save by a single glance of his eye.

His favorite residence is the palace of Tchiraghan on the European shore of the Bosphorus, a few miles from the city.

In order to accommodate the numerous and peculiar retinue of an Osmanli sovereign, there is a similarity in the internal arrangements of all the royal residences.

These palaces, like all other Osmanli houses, are divided into two compartments; the first is called the Selamluk or the place of salutation, and is appropriated to the men; the second is the Harem, which belongs exclusively to the ladies. Between these two are the apartments of the sultan, called Mabeyn.

The personnel of a sultan formerly consisted of many functionaries. Their number has of late been much reduced, though they are still very numerous.

The principal honorary officer is the Silahdar or Imperial sword-bearer, whose office being a sinecure, he only enters the presence when specially summoned, or to make some official reports.

Those who are in the most constant communication with the sultan, are his own Sir-Kiatibs, private secretaries, and the Mabeyngys, or chamberlains, and he is always attended by one or two of the latter, when he goes out. These gentlemen having the private ear of his majesty, there is constant intrigue among the different political parties to ensure their patronage, as the easiest means of access to his sublime highness.

The Enderoun Aghalery, or gentlemen of the royal household, are young men selected from among the slaves, and also from the families of the citizens. They are trained from their earliest years to the usages of the palace, and receive an education suited to their prospective career. When they are fitted for attendance upon his imperial majesty, they become Itch-Oghlans, or pages of the presence, and perform the duties of cup-bearer, towel-bearer, gentlemen of the wardrobe, and slippers, pipe and coffee bearers, ushers, etc. They are many of them distinguished for their elegance of manner and intelligence.

From the rank of pages they are afterwards promoted to be chamberlains, and often even attain the dignity of MÜshirs, or Ministers of State. The present Ministers Riza Pasha, and Mehmed-Aali Pasha, the brother-in-law of the sultan, were both Mahmoud’s pages.

The mutes are as indispensable as any of the palace attendants; when the Grand Vezir goes alone, or in company with the Grand Mufty, to the Imperial chamber, all the Mabeyngys and the Enderoun Aghalery withdraw, and the deaf mutes remain in attendance.

As on no occasion, not even during a grand council, when they deliberate with closed doors, the Osmanlis can dispense with their attendants, mutes are always very necessary appendages to them, both at the palace and the Porte.

Although they have not the sense of hearing nor the faculty of speech, they possess a remarkable quickness of comprehension, and have a great tact in communicating their ideas, even to the divulging of state secrets to their intimate friends and favorites.

They were formerly the executioners of the palace; no reason can be assigned for their holding such an office, unless, being deaf and dumb, they were not qualified to hear and pity the unfortunate victims.

There are also generally one or two dwarfs in the royal retinue, who are a sort of court jesters. There is one now at the palace, who became a very distinguished character during the reign of Mahmoud.

On one occasion, when the sultan was in high glee, he summoned this man of small pretensions to the harem. His majesty wishing to test his ingenuity, proposed to him, that if he could kiss any one of those girls (pointing to a group of tall and beautiful Circassian slaves in attendance), he should have that very one for his wife.

At this novel and unexpected intimation, Sir Paynim raised his eyes to survey the bewitching circle, apparently so far beyond his reach. But such a chance could not be lost; at all hazards, he boldly advanced to one of the fairest, and while she looked down upon him in dismay, gave her tangible proofs of his attachment by a tremendous blow on her stomach.

As she almost doubled with pain, her pigmy lover seized her around the neck, imprinted his first kiss of love, and gained the royal prize by this coup de main.

At the threshold of the Mabeyn, you will meet the Enderoun Aghalery, or the gentlemen of the household; passing by these personages, you ascend the stairway, and enter a large hall. On all sides are many curtained doorways, at one of which two guards are stationed. These are the Perdegys, or curtain keepers to his majesty.

The peculiarity of their domestic habits, viz., the ladies occupying separate apartments, leaves the entire Selamluk free and accessible to all. Hence the necessity, when wishing to be retired, of having curtains suspended to the doorways, and guards stationed to prevent the abrupt encroachment of visitors and strangers.

The personal vanity of the Osmanlis is such, that no occasion is neglected for its gratification, and munificence is always the concomitant of rank and distinction; therefore the slightest service is invariably compensated by a remuneration, technically called bakshish. The keahya at the landing, who holds your cayik while you disembark, or the ostler who holds your horse, the pabouchjy, who officiously arranges your slippers as you leave the house, with the whole household retinue of obsequious attendants, one and all expect the customary bakshish.

So universal is this practice, that the grander the establishment, the lower are the wages of the servants, who are sure to reap so good a harvest from the numerous visitors, that they willingly compound for the most trifling salaries; indeed, it may justly be said, that the grandees support each other’s menials.

This system pervades all classes of the people, and even the palace of the sultan.

An amusing story is told illustrative of the way in which these Perdegys make their post available.

One of these guards seemed to be enjoying such extensive revenues from his office, that he was reported to his majesty in a very ludicrous manner.

A certain wit, by name Indjyly-Tchavoush, a sort of an Oriental Curran, occasionally used to visit the sultan; but never without paying tribute to these keepers of the curtain.

Nettled at these exactions, and wishing to attract his majesty’s attention to the subject, he one day entered the royal presence with a large mackerel, the commonest fish in Turkey, in his hand, as a present. The sultan was struck with the oddity of the gift, and supposing that the expectations of the donor could only be realized by some royal munificence, asked, “What he desired in return?”

“Only 500 lashes, sire,” was the prompt reply. This reply added to his majesty’s astonishment, “and why so strange a request?” he demanded.

“Because, since, I am obliged to share all your majesty’s gifts with your majesty’s curtain keepers, I wish the rogues to have their share in this also!”

Judging from your benevolent countenance, that you are endowed with generous impulses, the keepers allow you to pass within the curtained door. You are now in a large apartment, on three sides of which are windows, with a wide Turkish sofa at the end, some two feet high from the floor, where the sultan is seated entirely alone, with a desk and implements of writing before him, and a long and graceful chibouk, mounted with a splendid amber mouth-piece ornamented with diamonds, carelessly lying by his ride. He utters the simple word, Gel! come! when several attendants appear as if by magic, and stand before him with folded hands. At every command they make the temennah, or Turkish salutation, which is done, not by bending the person, and bringing their arms over their heads, as though they were going to dive, as is often represented in theatres, but simply by raising the right hand to the mouth, the fingers touching the lips, then the right temple, and then carelessly dropping it down. This temennah is performed without uttering a single word, and signifies perfect comprehension of the royal orders.

An air of humility is always maintained in the presence of superiors, and such signs of active existence, as coughing or sneezing, are quite unallowable. The person feeling preliminary symptoms of these actions, being obliged either to suppress them, or to withdraw from the presence. Indeed the social etiquettes are very strict, even among equals. Although tobacco is introduced on occasions of ceremony and social intercourse—the chibouk and nargillÉ are not the calumets of peace, but of hospitality—the disagreeable concomitants of the weed so universal in America, are absolutely unknown in Turkey.

Spitting, then, is to the Osmanlis a most repulsive act, and their horror may be imagined when, on a certain occasion, while in the company of a grandee of the realm, the representative of the great American nation (the New World), deliberately took his quid from his pocket, and after cutting the requisite morsel, stored it carefully in the corner of his mouth, and commenced the slow mastication so characteristic of good tobacco chewers! The indulgence of such a luxury having only made his excellency’s mouth water, and there being no other accommodation at hand, in order to relieve his salivary glands, he was obliged to aim at an open window close by!

His excellency, consequently, became a sort of a proverb among them, and the question was repeatedly asked, “Does your American friend still continue to enact the camel, or does he not weary of chewing the cud?” Unlearned in classic lore, how should they know that the poet once said—

No one is ever seated in the presence of the sultan, nor are any of the customary rites of hospitality observed; such as the introduction of pipes, coffee, sherbet, etc.

On the presentation of foreign ambassadors, the ceremony is so arranged, that the minister plenipotentiary and his sublime highness, enter the apartment simultaneously by opposite doors; thus the sultan receives the representatives of foreign potentates on foot, without condescending to rise from his seat.

After the audience is terminated, the royal guests are conducted into the apartment of the Mabeyngys, where they are treated with true Oriental hospitality and munificence.

Those persons who are not aware of the wonderful changes that have taken place in Turkey, may fancy this monarch to be surrounded by a group of robed, turbaned, and bearded Osmanlis; on the contrary, both the sultan and his attendants now wear a European military frock coat and pantaloons, with only the national fess for a head-dress.

The moustache is universally worn, and it would seem as ridiculous to an Osmanli to shave the eyebrows as the upper-lip. Indeed, nothing excites the curiosity of the rising generation so much, as to see a man without a moustache; especially an aged man, in whose case, it would seem to them like an attempt at perpetual youth.

There is not a beard to be seen on any of the attendants of the palace, for the beard is considered in Turkey as a mark of dignity and freedom; consequently, no one in the personal service of the sultan is allowed this honor, except by special permission of his majesty; which implies, that the individual is no longer retained in the palace, but soon to be elevated to some superior office. The beard, then, being indicative of rank and position, it is preserved with a certain superstitious reverence; no Mussulman, therefore, after the ceremony of allowing the beard to grow has been once performed, ever again uses the razor; nevertheless it is not permitted to assume the natural growth, but is carefully trimmed according to the fashion of modern times.

Abd-ul-Medjid makes his appearance in the Mabeyn, early in the morning; for it is a universal custom with the Osmanlis to rise early. He generally spends his mornings in the perusal of local and foreign newspapers, which are translated for him, and other general reading.

He has lately acquired a taste for the French language, in which he has made considerable progress. He is, according to the Turkish acceptance of the term, well-educated; that is, well versed in Turkish belles-lettres, with a general acquaintance with the history of his own country.

The science of mathematics has also engrossed some of his attention, and he even condescended to receive instructions from Etem Pasha, a young man of distinguished abilities and foreign education, who was taken into the royal retinue as colonel of the body-guards; doubtless, however, with reference to his scientific acquirements.

His majesty’s meals, according to the custom of the country, are two; one in the morning between ten and eleven, the other at sunset. They are served by the Tcheshnigear, whose duty it is to break the seals of the different dishes intended for the sultan’s repast, and after having tasted, to carry them into the royal presence.

Although the Osmanlis are great epicures, their tastes are very singular. Their dishes are very diversified and numerous, consisting usually of twelve or fifteen, and sometimes even thirty courses; sweet and meat dishes being introduced in alternate succession; the meal commencing with soup, and ending with pilaf, or a preparation of rice peculiar to Turkey. They have a species of pastry or paklava, which is remarkably light and delicious; and the mohalleby, or Turkish blanc-mange, is much liked, even by Europeans. Fruit, at Constantinople, is very abundant and delicious, and is partaken of frequently during a repast. Indeed, the grapes of Scutari, called Tchavoush, are unrivalled, and even more delicious and delicate than those of Madeira or Malaga.

The order in which a dinner is served is as follows: soup, kebab (or roast meat in small pieces), entremet (or vegetables and meat cooked together), pastry, roast, fish, entremet, mohalleby, entremet, maccaroni, fowls, jelly, etc., until at last it winds up with the significative pilaf and sherbet, or hosh-ab.

No wine or liquor is served at the table, but his sublimity occasionally during the day visits the pantry, doubtless, “for his stomach’s sake, and his often infirmities.” Unfortunately, modern civilization has some vices as well as many virtues; and the fashion of excessive drinking, has, among others, lately crept into Turkey, to which some of the ÉlÉgants are becoming much addicted, and, ere long, they may, perhaps excel even the paragon, John Bull.

Although many other innovations and attempts at reform have succeeded in Turkey, yet the original style of eating has not been much improved. They use neither chairs nor tables; but a low stool being put in the middle of the room, a large circular copper tray is placed upon it.

No such paraphernalia as cloths, napkins, knives, forks, plates, glasses, etc., are essential; small loaves of bread, alternately with small dishes of fruit, pickles, anchovies, cheese, etc., are indiscriminately scattered around the edges of the tray, in the middle of which the different preparations of food are successively placed by the ayvaz or scullion, and the food is eaten with the fingers, excepting the liquid dishes, for which wooden spoons are provided. Around the tray, the company assemble, sitting with their legs under them, and all eating from the dish in the middle; reminding us of the customs of ancient times, when it was said, “It is one of the twelve who dippeth with me in the dish.”

One long, narrow napkin is provided, which goes all round the tray, and lies upon the floor; each person slipping under it as he sits down.

Their tables being accessible to their friends at all times, dinner-parties are never given, except on state occasions; for, hospitality being one of the characteristics of the East, and especially enjoined by the Koran, no one is excluded from their board; and when the number present is so large as not to allow them to sit comfortably, they place themselves side-wise, or in a sort of spoon fashion, as though they were leaning upon one another, and thus illustrating the scene at the feast of the Passover.

In some of the houses of the wealthy, and especially of those whose owners have visited Europe, the European mode of eating is imitated, when the motley company, which is always assembled, sometimes presents a most ludicrous scene.

Once, a Turk at such a table, wishing to conform to the customs of civilized life, endeavored to use the fork. Failing in several attempts to take a piece of meat, and determined to overcome his gaucherie, he resolutely took hold of the morsel with his fingers, and placing one end of the fork against his breast, stuck the meat upon it with an immense effort, and then carried it to his mouth, quite contented with his own success, amid the applause of the company. During the sacred month of Ramazan, however, the European mode of eating is never practised, even by the most enlightened and liberal. Knives, forks, tables and chairs, are then altogether set aside, as being too profane.

His majesty usually breakfasts at the Mabeyn, and always quite alone; for no one being equal to him, none can have the honor of his company; and his evening repast is often taken, weather permitting, at some beautiful watering-place.

The time between these two meals is usually occupied with some of his ministers, or the audiences of the foreign ambassadors, and in excursions on the Bosphorus or elsewhere.

Whatever transpires at the Porte, is reported to him every evening, through the Ameddjy, or state chancellor, expressed in the most beautiful and elegant style of which the Turkish language is capable. In fact, the bureau of the Ameddjy is considered the best school for polite literature, and those who have once served in that department, invariably acquire a remarkable elegance of diction. The sultan reads over these documents every evening, together with the Arzou-hals, or petitions, which are presented to him on Fridays; and after giving his imperial sanction or veto, returns them to the Porte, to be acted upon accordingly.

The approval of the sultan is not expressed by the application of any royal seal or cypher, but by a bold stroke of his majesty’s reed, representing the Arabic letter S, which is termed sah, meaning correct or approved. And those which are rejected are torn in one corner.

The sultan’s cipher, called Toora, is formed from the names of the reigning monarch, and that of his father. It reads thus, “Sultan Abd-ul-Medjid, son of Sultan Malmoud Khan, the sultan of sultans.” This is the imperial seal, and Ottoman coat of arms, and it is affixed to all royal edicts, engraved upon public buildings, and stamped upon the various current coins of the empire.

When his evening occupations are over, the sultan retires to the harem.

Such is the ordinary routine of the life of the Turkish sovereign; but there are also many other public duties which occupy his time and attention, and fully demonstrate that the post of sultan is by no means a sinecure.