I confess that the impression produced on my mind by the idea of Dancing Dervishes was the very reverse of solemn; and I was, in consequence, quite unprepared for the effect that the exhibition of their religious rites cannot fail to exert on all those who are not predetermined to find food for mirth in every sectarian peculiarity. The deep stillness, broken only by the breath of prayer, or the melancholy wailing of the muffled instruments, which seemed to send forth their voice of sadness from behind a cloud in subdued sorrowing, like the melodious plaint of angels over fallen mortality—the concentrated and pious self-forgetfulness of the community, who never once cast their eyes over the crowds that thronged their chapel—the deep, rich chant of the choral brethren—even the very contrast afforded by the light and fairy-like temple in which they thus meekly ministered to their Maker, with their own calm and inspired appearance, heightened the effect of the scene; and tacitly rebuked the presumption and worldliness of spirit that would have sought a jest in the very sanctuary of religion. The service commenced with an extemporaneous prayer from the chief priest, to which the attendant Dervishes listened with arms folded upon their breasts, and their eyes fixed on the ground. At its conclusion, all bowed their foreheads to the earth; and the orchestra struck into one of those peculiarly wild and melancholy Turkish airs which are unlike any other music that I ever heard. Instantly, the full voices of the brethren joined in chorus, and the effect was thrilling: now the sounds died away like the exhausted breath of a departing spirit, and suddenly they swelled once more into a deep and powerful diapason that seemed scarce earthly. A second stillness of about a minute succeeded, when the low, solemn music was resumed, and the Dervishes, slowly rising from the earth, followed their superior three times round the enclosure; bowing down twice under the shadow of the name of their Founder, suspended above the seat of the high priest. This reverence was performed without removing their folded arms from their breasts—the first time on the side by which they approached, and afterwards on that opposite, which they gained by slowly revolving on the right foot, in such a manner as to prevent their turning their backs towards the inscription. The procession was closed by a second prostration, after which, each Dervish having gained his place, cast off his cloak, and such as had walked in woollen slippers withdrew them, and, passing solemnly before the Chief Priest, they commenced their evolutions.