It is not surprising that the Turks should venerate their own Dervishes, when they not only tolerate but even respect the Christian monks, and regard their monasteries as holy places, bearing the names of saints, and inhabited by men wholly devoted to God. To such a height, indeed, do they carry this reverence, that they permit the communities of several convents built on the charming little group of islands, called “Princes’ Islands,” situated in the Propontis, not more than two leagues from Constantinople, to be summoned to their chapel to prayer by the ringing of bells; a privilege which is not accorded to any Christian church devoted to a general congregation; but perhaps the greatest proof that can be adduced of their veneration for religious societies exists in the fact that in the mausoleum of the principal Tekiè at Iconium lies one of the most celebrated of Musselmaun saints, Mollah Hunkiar, and beside him a Christian monk, to whom he had been so tenderly attached during his life, that he desired in his will that they should not be separated after death. The two tombs still exist, and what renders the anecdote still more worthy of record, is the circumstance that it is the Chèïk or Abbot of this very monastery, who has the privilege of girding on the sword of the Sultan in the Mosque of Eyoub, on his accession to the Ottoman throne. The Turks do not consider their women worthy to become Dervishes, but they, nevertheless, respect the Christian nuns; and a somewhat curious proof of this fact was given in 1818, on the receipt by the Sultan and his favourite minister, Halet Effendi, of two petitions drawn up by a sisterhood at Genoa, in which were set forth the injuries done to their convent by the French Republicans, terminating with a prayer to “his very pious Highness,” to send to them, as a present, three Turkey carpets to cover the floor of their chapel, one of which was to be crimson, a second purple, and the third green; and in return they promised to pray for the health, prosperity, and glory of the august head of the Ottoman Empire. The Sultan gallantly acceded to their request, and the compatriotes of Roxalana received with the least possible delay the magnificent donation by which a Musselmaun Emperor contributed to the adornment of a temple dedicated to Christian worship. In the cemetery of the Tekiè at Pera lies the body of the Marquis de Bonneval, a French renegade who died a pasha; and the stone slab yet remains there that once covered the head of Halet Effendi, the founder of the convent, which, I have omitted to mention, is built entirely of marble. The head of the Effendi has, however, been removed to a less sacred place of burial, and has found a traitor’s grave.