As regards the natives of the East, bathing can scarcely be styled a luxury; to them, it is really indispensable; for as they do not change their clothes even at night for months together, in fact, not until worn out, they would be otherwise insufferable beasts; but by frequenting the bath every day, or every other day, and performing the ablutions imposed on them in the Koran, with their quiet sedate mode of life, they are actually rendered very cleanly animals. The women have the use of the baths in the afternoon, when they assemble in crowds, and all the scandal and news of the town is circulated, marriages concluded, and the secret intrigues of the parties are reciprocally detailed; in short, every thing which may be supposed to be brought on the tapis in an exclusive meeting of the fair sex. Nature is every where the same; and I presume, whether in a bath at Stamboul, a Parisian saloon, or a drawing-room in London, a similar love of gossip is their distinguishing characteristic. Almost every quarter of Stamboul is furnished with its baths or hummums; and the houses of all rich Turks possess this desirable luxury, which is used by the male part of the family in the morning, and by the females afterwards. The plan on which they are constructed is the same throughout the East: in them shaving is universally performed; the hair is dyed, the beard is made to assume a beautiful glossy black; and the depilatory pincers and ointments of the ladies are applied to the purposes for which they are designed. The bath I used was opposite the sherbet vender, on the hill of Pera, who is so well described in "The Armenians" of Macfarlane; and whose little fountain of water, flowing through machinery, and setting wheels, circles, and bells all in motion together, is no slight decoy to the thirsty passenger. I have read "The Armenians" with great pleasure. The description of the _locale_, as well as of the manners, customs, and general appearance of the native and foreign inhabitants of Constantinople, is given with admirable fidelity; in short, no modern work with which I am acquainted presents a more lively and faithful picture of this queen of cities.
[Sidenote: EASTERN STORY-TELLER.] _Friday, 31st._--Instead of making an excursion to the Sweet Waters, I went with my friend the American secretary to visit the coffee-houses in the Armenian quarter, where an improvisatore exhibits his talents every holyday. Immense crowds of respectable Turks assemble there to listen to the narrations of this accomplished story-teller; and it is even said that the Grand Signior himself is often present as an auditor in disguise. In all the coffee-houses there were concerts of vocal and instrumental music; the former consisting of songs or chants performed by a number of voices together, or else one man sang a single verse, to which all the others responded by way of chorus. Occasionally they varied their performances by singing alternate verses of the same song. We sat in the open air, on a long pier of wood built out into the sea, where there were hundreds besides, perched upon low stools, smoking, or eating delicious ices and mahalabé, and laughing and talking with more vivacity than I could have expected in beings generally so taciturn, and so absorbed in the contemplation of their own importance. At last, a man came to the door of the largest coffee-room and clapped his hands, when the Turks immediately moved into this apartment, in which seats were arranged in a semicircular form one above the other, as in a theatre. A portion of the floor, in front of the benches, was occupied by low stools, probably reserved for visitors of distinction; and close to the wall was a rostrum and a large easy arm-chair, on one side of which stood a little desk.