It is held safer to breathe the same air with a man sick of
the plague, and even to come in contact with his skin, than to be
touched by the smallest particle of woollen or of thread which may
have been within the reach of possible infection. If this be a
right notion, the spread of the malady must be materially aided by
the observance of a custom prevailing amongst the people of
Stamboul. It is this; when an Osmanlee dies, one of his dresses is
cut up, and a small piece of it is sent to each of his friends as a
memorial of the departed--a fatal present, according to the opinion
of the Franks, for it too often forces the living not merely to
remember the dead man, but to follow and bear him company.
The Europeans during the prevalence of the plague, if they are
forced to venture into the streets, will carefully avoid the touch
of every human being whom they pass. Their conduct in this respect
shows them strongly in contrast with the "true believers": the
Moslem stalks on serenely, as though he were under the eye of his
God, and were "equal to either fate"; the Franks go crouching and
slinking from death, and some (those chiefly of French extraction)
will fondly strive to fence out destiny with shining capes of
oilskin!
For some time you may manage by great care to thread your way
through the streets of Stamboul without incurring contact, for the
Turks, though scornful of the terrors felt by the Franks, are
generally very courteous in yielding to that which they hold to be
a useless and impious precaution, and will let you pass safe if
they can.
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