I am by no means prepared, nor even inclined, to attempt a Quixotic defence of the very extraordinary and _bizarre_ ceremonial to which I was next a witness; but I cannot, nevertheless, agree with a modern traveller in describing it as “an absurdity.” That it does not accord with our European ideas of consistent and worthy worship is not only possible, but certain; yet I should imagine that no one could feel other than respect for men of irreproachable character, serving God according to their means of judgment. The extraordinary ceremony which gives its name to the Dancing, or, as they are really and much more appropriately called, the Turning Dervishes—for nothing can be more utterly unlike dancing than their evolutions—is not without its meaning. The community first pray for pardon of their past sins, and the amendment of their future lives; and then, after a silent supplication for strength to work out the change, they figure, by their peculiar and fatiguing movements, their anxiety to “shake the dust from their feet,” and to cast from them all worldly ties. As I could not reconcile myself to believe that the custom could have grown out of mere whim, I took some pains to ascertain its meaning, as well as visiting the chapel a second time during its observance, in order to ascertain whether the ceremonies differed on different days, but I remarked no change. Immediately after passing with a solemn reverence, twice performed, the place of the High Priest, who remained standing, the Dervishes spread their arms, and commenced their revolving motion; the palm of the right hand being held upwards, and that of the left turned down. Their under-dresses (for, as I before remarked, they had laid aside their cloaks) consisted of a jacket and petticoat of dark coloured cloth, that descended to their feet; the higher order of brethren being clad in green, and the others in brown, or a sort of yellowish gray; about their waists they wore wide girdles, edged with red, to which the right side of the jacket was closely fastened, while the left hung loose: their petticoats were of immense width, and laid in large plaits beneath the girdle, and, as the wearers swung round, formed a bell-like appearance; these latter garments, however, are only worn during the ceremony, and are exchanged in summer for white ones of lighter material.