On the arrival of our American friends, we mustered in a large party before the bronze gates of the church, where we were all for a few moments busily engaged in taking off our boots and putting on the slippers we had purchased. This done, we proceeded into the interior of the edifice, with which I confess myself greatly disappointed; as the _tout ensemble_ displays no magnificence, and the impressions on the gazer's mind, partake of none of that involuntary admiration and religious awe, which the sight of an old English cathedral, or the splendid churches of Italy, never fails to produce. One of its greatest defects arises from want of loftiness in the dome, the diameter of which is one hundred and fifteen, while its height does not exceed twenty feet. There is an immense number of columns, the spoils of various heathen temples. Of these, eight, of porphyry, are from that dedicated to the Sun by the Emperor Aurelian; and the same number, of green marble, verd antique, or _serpentine_, from the temple of Ephesus. Very little of the ancient mosaic now remains, as the devotees, both Turk and Christian, have for ages been in the habit of pillaging it, to make ornaments, beads, and talismans; so that the work of destruction is nearly complete, and a manufacture of these relics, which are composed of gilded glass, will soon be required. I bought a whole handful for a few paras; and having seen them dug out of their cement by the mufti who sold them, I can vouch for their being genuine.
We now ascended into the upper and lower galleries; in the former of which the Greek women performed their devotions, and the men in the latter. Two doors, one on either side of the passage in which we now were, opened into a third gallery, where I was told stood the "gates of heaven and hell." They are of marble, but the origin of this superstition I could not learn. The floor of the mosque was covered with beautiful carpets, and the ornaments resembled those I saw in that of Soliman the Magnificent, which is considered a much finer building. St. Sophia is also surpassed in beauty by the mosque of Sultan Mehemet, which may be considered as the St. Peter's of the East. The next in size and grandeur are those of Achmet and Osman; but as these buildings very much resemble each other, both in external and internal form and decorations, to see one is quite sufficient: "ab uno disce omnes." A greater or less number of elegant, tall, slender minarets or towers, are attached to each mosque in proportion to its size. They are dazzlingly white, like the edifices to which they belong, and are surmounted by golden crescents that flash and sparkle in the brilliant sunbeams of this sultry clime; and, as the number of public religious foundations is immense, independently of thousands of private mosques; the united splendour of so many glittering objects, added to the beauty of the deep blue cloudless sky, contribute to render the view of Constantinople, from a distance, one of the most singular and attractive prospects on the earth.