Thus the faithful acquire new zest for all their sensual appetites as they anxiously listen for the sunset Ezan, which releases them from their sufferings. The breaking of the fast is called Iftar. Each person is furnished with a small table, upon which are a bowl of light soup, a few olives, some preserves and cakes. A chibouk, already filled and ready to be lighted, is placed by their side. When the cannon booming over the Bosphorus, announces the setting sun, each one partakes sparingly of these refreshments, and having regaled himself with the fumes of tobacco, attends to his regular sunset prayers, after which a sumptuous dinner is served and enjoyed. The grand Namaz (prayer) is performed, after which night is turned into day. The streets, usually dark and sombre, are brightly illuminated and filled with people, Mussulmans, Armenians, Greeks, Jews, and other Giavours, who all seem anxious to enjoy the carnival, if not to share the penance. The slender and tapering minarés are now girdled in light, while between the consecrated spires, depend fantastic and luminous bodies, the brilliant but mimic forms of familiar objects. The kahvés are crowded with wearied Mussulmans, puffing out clouds of smoke, in pure spite for their long abstinence from their favorite weed, while their imaginations are regaled with the exciting tales of the Meddahs, or the drolleries of the far famed Kara-gueöz. Stalls are erected with all the various preparations of food peculiarly agreeable to Turkish palates; tempting shops stand invitingly open, and tinkling music vibrates through the air. If Allah only is remembered in the day, night seems to exclude that divinity from every thought; while Eblis is apparently enthroned with all the orgies of his dominions. Exhausted nature at length compels the laboring classes to seek their couches, while the more fortunate pashas and efendis, beguile the remaining hours till morn, with continued festivities and the exchange of social visits. Just before daybreak, the drum resounds through the streets of the metropolis, when the faithful, without any reluctance, arise from their slumbers to avail themselves of their last chance of regaling their appetites and fortifying their corporeal frames against the sufferings of the next fourteen consecutive hours. The morning gun, now booming upon the still air, re-echoed from hill to hill, proclaims the dawn of another day, of self mortification at the "gate of Heaven." CHAPTER VI. PILGRIMAGE TO MECCA. How true the observation that the most helpless of all creatures is man, born of a woman, who cometh forth like the tender bud of a delicate and fading flower. The ever-living soul embarks on the vast ocean of life, in so frail and delicate a tenement, that there is no semblance of strength to resist the angry waves that continually dash against the tempest-tossed and quivering fabric.