It is not by her Nobles, by her Ministers, nor by her Government, that she should be judged—Her court and her people are as distinct as though they were of two different nations. They have, however, one common virtue, which is carried to an extent that must be witnessed by the natives of the West, ere it can be understood. Every one who has visited Turkey will perceive at once that I allude to their unbounded hospitality. The table of the greatest man in Constantinople is open to the poorest, whenever he chooses to avail himself of it. As he salutes the master of the house on entering, he is received with the simple word _Bouroum_—You are welcome,—and he takes his place without further ceremony. In the villages the same beautiful principle remains unaltered; and it signifies not how little an individual may have to give, he always gives it cheerfully, and as a matter of course; without appearing conscious that he is exercising a virtue, practised scantily and reservedly in more civilized countries. If a Turk wishes to shew a courtesy to his guest, or to a stranger with whom he may have accidentally come in contact, he does so in a manner which revolts the more refined ideas of a Frank; but which is nevertheless induced by this same feeling of brotherhood and fellowship. His chibouk is his greatest luxury; and when he is not engaged in an employment that renders the indulgence difficult or impossible, it is for ever between his lips: and his first act of friendliness is to withdraw it thence, and offer it to his companion.—He estimates its enjoyment, and he immediately wishes to communicate it. These are perhaps slight traits—details that appear unimportant—but human character is composed of details—fine shades, which however faint in themselves, are nevertheless necessary to the perfect effect of the whole. It is easy to seize a prominent object. Glaring vices and striking virtues force themselves upon the notice; and are consequently ever the ready subject of comment. And it is from this fact that the Turks have suffered in European estimation. They are singularly unobtrusive in their social relations: they do not seek to exhibit their moral attributes; and they practice daily those domestic virtues which grow out of the tolerance and kindliness of their nature without troubling themselves to consider whether they do so at moments when they may become subject of comment. Thus it is that they have never been supposed to feel, or feeling to encourage, those minute but multitudinous social courtesies, which, if each amount not in itself to a positive virtue, at least is part and parcel of one, and lends itself to the completion of an aggregate that well deserves the name.