The air has been full of rumours from Constantinople, but
as yet nothing startling has occurred. It has been said that the Sultan is ill, that he is mad, that he has been poisoned, that he is about to fly, that the Softas are demanding his deposition ; that Edhem Pasha, the Grand Vizier, has resigned ; that Darned Pasha has been appointed, that Edhem is stronger than ever, that the Parliament has been set to work, that the Constitution is to be suspended. Amidst these rumours, all that appears to be true is that the Sultan is sick, probably with some form of brain-disease —this may be taken as certain, for the Porte has officially and formally denied it—and that, consequently, there is official anarchy prevailing at Constantinople. Edhem Pasha is either unsafe in his position or unequal to it, and there is as yet no one at once willing and able to take the helm from his hands. The rumours of popular insurrection are not confirmed, but there is great distrust of the popular temper, and a disposition to rely on soldiers which may suddenly bring Redif Pasha, the Minister at War, to the top. This would mean war within a week, but the confusion is too great to allow even of a distinct opinion. The Turcophiles are occupying themselves with praising up Tefyk Pasha, appavently a doctrinaire, who has been seen reading a book, as the coming man, who is to turn Pandemonium into a Paradise, but he is only as yet President of a non-existent House of Common!.
