We have settled here into a very regular course of life. I rise between one and two, Turkish time, which begins at sunset, and is reckoned in twice twelve hours. We breakfast at three. At first we had tea, but our stock being exhausted, we now take coffee; in the winter we used eggs instead of milk, but as the spring came on, milk became plentiful. We stay at home studying Romaic or modern Greek, or completing and arranging the observations of the preceding day till seven or eight, and then go out and examine some building in its details, as far as we can make them out, and about twelve return to dinner. After this S. smokes two or three pipes, and I used to get through one, in order to be in the fashion, but I have now abandoned the attempt, and only take a whiff or two when I am paying visits. These pipes consist of wooden tubes about 6 feet long; those made of the shoots of the cherry tree are reckoned best. They have a bowl of earthenware at one end, some of the best and most beautiful of which are made at Thebes, and an amber mouth-piece at the other. It is said that you may use one of these from the mouth of a person who has the plague, without any danger of infection, but I had rather not try the experiment. A little tray is placed on the ground to receive the bowl of your pipe, as the tube is of course too long to be managed by the hand. This course has been occasionally interrupted by visiting, especially during the carnival, of which I shall give you an account presently, and sometimes by our attention to occasional objects of curiosity. One of these is the exhibition of the dancing dervises, who use the tower of the winds as the place of their devotions, but they do not always dance. Mr. Sharp and myself entered just as they begun their chaunt, and walked through the midst of them to the gallery appropriated to the reception of strangers, without their taking the least notice of us. They were not at that time all assembled, and the greatest number present at one time was twenty-eight, besides a young man with a child in his arms, who took but little part in the ceremony, and went away before it was half over. The performers were of all ages, from six to sixty, and one old man, I should suppose, to be much more. You know all the orientals sit with their legs crossed under them, and as these are covered by their long garments, they look as if they had none, but the body seems a pivot placed in a socket. The performers sing, and move their bodies backward and forward without bending them, which very much strengthens this idea, and you may conceive what a ridiculous effect it has. They began chaunting slowly, and not loud, but got faster and louder as they proceeded, three boys all the while beating a drum with straps of hard leather. Suddenly the chaunt changed, and another set of words was used. Each chaunt consists of only two or three words, but I have not yet learned what they are. After a short pause they began a third chaunt.