upon the two shores and are faithfully mirrored in the blue waters at their feet, may sometimes remind you of the Swiss hills, as you search your memory for some point of comparison. Upon these declivities, as far as the eye can reach, extend lines of red pagoda-shaped houses, half concealed amid rose and jessamine shrubbery. Interspersed among them are palaces of dazzling whiteness and of a light and graceful architecture, over which aged sycamores extend their sheltering branches; while still higher up charming kiosques peep forth from thickets of foliage, like rubies encased in enamel. Sparkling brooks gleam like silver ribbons from the shadowing forests, or plunge in cascades, while the warm rays of the sun dance and play with all the prismatic colors upon their surface. The relieving outline to this dazzling parterre is formed by the gray-tinted rocks, which are still beyond and above, giving tone and harmony to the whole picture, while dark cypresses lift their tufted heads upon the summits, forming a subdued and massive frame for the smiling landscape.

The constant variety of aspect presented amid this profusion of beauty, is not one of the least charming of its features here a hill rises bold and abrupt in its outline, while beneath stretches a verdant and quiet valley, where thought is hushed by the murmuring lull of the fountain, and the intrusion of memory upon the dreamy enjoyment of the present, is banished by the soft whisper of the gigantic sycamore, mingled with the song of the waters. As you advance, one charming scene gives place to another still more charming. At every turn of this enchanted ground some delightful discovery is made of a beautiful picture which had only been concealed by one previously

seen.

Now that we have formed some idea of the general aspect of the golden waters which separate the two continents and unite two seas, let us step into one of the floating shells which skim over their surface with the lightness and almost the rapidity of birds. You must step lightly as you seat yourself within the caique, for the slightest irregularity of motion will overturn the fragile structure, and plunge you into the water, much to the amusement of the kaidji, or boatmen, who invariably recognize the new-comer by his awkwardness

They

and timidity. The long and slender form of these boats, their sharp prows and their knife-shaped keels prove that there are strong currents beneath, and deceitful winds above these beautiful waters. The movement of a hand or arm is sufficient to disturb the equilibrium of these light vessels; but after you have acquired some of the Turkish immobility of character, you seat yourself upon their carpeted bottoms with a feeling of security which is due, in a great measure, to the confidence you soon acquire in the skill and experience of the kaidjis, or boatmen. are a noble-looking set of men, with complexions of bronze and the finest muscular development. The introduction of steamers, which ply between the various landing-places, has very seriously affected the business of this class. Formerly at each point of embarkation you were besieged by them, precisely as the hackney-coachmen take possession of the unprotected traveler at your railway stations. One great drawback from the enjoyment of a caique is the absence of all awnings, even in the hottest season-this privilege is reserved entirely for the sultan-parasols and umbrellas were formerly strictly forbidden-for these have always been the symbols of power and royalty in the east, but of late this rigor has been somewhat modified; you can now protect yourself with them if you are careful to lower them upon approaching any of the imperial residences.

There is a whole fleet of caiques drawn up at the landing-place of Top-Khana. The first part of this compound word signifies cannon, and the latter means square, or warehouse; it is applied to its present locality on account of the large foundry which marks this quarter; it is also more frequented by the Franks than any other. After descending the steps to the water, you follow the European shore, in obedience to the strong current in the direction of the Black Sea. Upon the opposite shore is seen Scutari, in Turkish Ouskoudar, with its white mosques and red houses. It was anciently known as Chrysopolis, or the Golden City; it is said, on account of its being the place where the Persians received tribute from Bithynia. But though the gold which christened it exists no longer, it will always be a golden city while the rays of the setting sun pour their flood of glory upon it.

The vigorous strokes of our kaidjis soon bring us to a pleasant retreat called Dolma-Baghtche, inclosing a lovely valley, lying between two hills which border the water. Here it is said Jason landed with his Argonauts, when in search of the Golden Fleece. At its extremity is a kiosque, covered within and without by Persian porcelain-a rare specimen of oriental luxury. The warlike dwellings of the Turcomans were intended to be represented in its construction; the tent of the chief, or the pavilion of the khan, forms the grand hall in the center; while the pavilions placed at the four corners are designed for the official guard.

Opposite Scutari appears the white palace of the sultan. It is in the Italian, or perhaps more correctly, the Lombard style, and was built by Mahmoud II., the father of the present monarch. The material used in its construction is the marble of Marmora, and though it has not all the severe correctness of outline which a cultivated taste might demand for a regal residence in a locality of such exceeding beauty, its massive staircases and columns, its gilded lattices and elaborate carvings produce a very unique and rich effect. It is probably known to your readers that the Mohammedan religion strictly forbids the representation of any living thing either in carving or colors. More than three hundred halls of this sumptuous building are decorated in the greatest profusion with arabesques of every possible variety in the finest executed frescoes. One large saloon is lighted by a dome of ruby-coloured glass, through which the glowing light streams with a strange and striking effect, peculiarly gratifying to oriental taste.

The apartments of the sultan and those of the sultana valide, or queen-mother, are of exceeding elegance. Those of the former are somewhat in imitation of the splendors of Versailles; but no monarch in the world looks from his palace windows on such a prospect as stretches beneath the gaze of the padischa, from this magnificent abode.

I often saw the sultan's caique in front of this palace. The elegance of its form is only equaled by the richness of its draperies, and the carving and gilding with which it is ornamented. The awning which covers his majesty is of velvet, studded with golden stars. It is sur

rounded with a silver balustrade, and supported by four columns of elegant workmanship, and it is surmounted by four globes of carved silver and a golden sun. It is manned by twenty-six of the strongest and handsomest kaidjis, whose vigorous strokes send it like an arrow over the mirroring waters. Two, and sometimes three caiques precisely similar, follow that which contains the sultan, and these are succeeded by the caiques of the grand pashas, with fourteen oarsmen. This truly royal and oriental cortege is always saluted with salvos of artillery from the city, the Bosphorus, and the vessels of the harbor.

Nearly opposite the white palace, upon the Asiatic shore, is another imperial residence, called the Beylerbey Seraï, or yellow palace. These beautiful shores are almost a continuous line of magnificent edifices. The sultana valide, the sisters of the sultan, and the dignitaries of the empire, have summer residences in this vicinity, adding all that wealth and oriental luxury could suggest to these enchanting scenes. Magnificent flights of steps descend to the water's edge, upon which are seated the household slaves in rich costumes. The entrance to some of the apartments is partially concealed by vine-covered trellises which shade the terrace paths, bordered by flowers and shrubs, whose fragrance is wafted upon the air as we skim over the clear water. The open windows sometimes reveal the master of the house seated with Turkish gravity in a lofty hall, with no companion but the inseparable chiboque. Our caique glides beneath the shade of the overhanging trees in many places. The women's apartments are always in a wing by themselves; and the windows are protected by cedar lattices, but they are all furnished with round openings, by means of which those within can see all that passes, without being seen themselves.

Before the village of Arnaoul-Keur the strong current produces a great roughness of the hitherto placid waters. It is only passed by means of assistance from the shore; a rope is thrown by the kaidjis to three or four hamals, or burden-bearers. who pull lustily till oars may again be resumed with safety. This shore, which is equally dangerous in all winds and weather, is called Cheitan-Akindici, or the Devil's Current.

The Asiatic coast is more luxurious in trees than the European. Kiosks, palaces, and villages gleam forth in all the hues of the rainbow from the sheltering foliage. Most of these buildings are of wood, but not the less elegant, with their rich carvings, galleries and balustrades, painted and gilded in the bright hues of oriental taste.

And now we approach Guyuck-Sou, literally, "Blue Water of Heaven, or the Sweet Waters of Asia," as it has been called by Europeans. A beautiful building of white marble, covering a fountain, is seen from the water. As we draw nearer, its arabesque carvings and the crescents which crown it reveal themselves. The Golden Horn here narrows to a mere streamlet meandering between green meadows enameled with flowers. It is the favorite resort of the Turk, especially of the women and children. Every day, but especially on Friday, the velvet turf is crowded with groups of Turkish, Greek, and Armenian women, seated upon mats, or reclining on luxurious cushions, beneath the shade of the noble trees which ornament this beautiful spot. The former, however, are invariably accompanied by a negress, or an aged duenna, and those who are wealthy by a black eunuch, armed with the long whip which is the badge of their office, and which would unquestionably be called into use upon the slightest manifestation of improper curiosity from any of the male part of the throng. Too near an approach, or too earnest a gaze upon these "exclusives," would call forth a volley of choice epithets and emphatic maledictions, from which the unfortunate Paul Pry would do well to make a precipitate retreat. Public sentiment is a more effectual protection of them from observation than even the long whips of their attendants. Some English officers were lately enjoying the delights of this charming scenery, when the gilded arabas, or chariots, of the royal family, drawn by white oxen, in housings of crimson and gold, attracted universal attention. The first was occupied by the sultan's sister and two of his wives; this was followed by five other carriages filled with ladies of the harem. The whole company preserved, with scrupulous Turkish etiquette, the most imperturbable unconsciousness of the general interest excited by their presence, and though many dig

nitaries of high rank and brilliant equipages mingled with the scene, not a glance betrayed any vulgar curiosity on the part of these royal ladies.

The Europeans present, far from imitating this example of Moslem high breeding, gazed upon the display of beauty with unconcealed eagerness. One officer forgot himself so far that he took off his cap, and smilingly saluted the lovely inmates of the first carriage. He even advanced a step or two, with cap in hand, doubtless quite absorbed in the novelty and excitement of the occasion. But he was soon recalled from his oriental reveries by a disagreeable-looking gentleman of the darkest complexion, and a frightful scowl, who brandished a jeweled knife in the face of the Englishman, and then taking his place in front of the gilded araba, directed the driver to leave the ground.

Mingled with the groups reposing about the "Sweet Waters" are Greeks and Bulgarians, performing their national dances; Jews, offering trifles for sale; while the numerous coffee venders, water carriers, and confectioners are in great demand among the crowd. Turkish merchants smoke the chiboque or narghila, and occasionally the picturesque scene is heightened by parties of Turkish dignitaries mounted on spirited steeds, their bejeweled trappings flashing in the sunlight.

But we linger too long on these enchanted shores. Not far beyond, the castles of Europe and Asia stand upon the opposite banks of the Bosphorus, which here narrows to a rapid stream. It is about four hundred fathoms in width, and it is said that a bridge was thrown across it by Mandrocles, of Samos, for the passage of Darius with his army of seven hundred thousand men. All succeeding European and Asiatic invaders have followed the track of the Persian monarch. The landscape here has features of sublimity mingled with its loveliness. Two lofty capes, sloping abruptly from the mountains in the distance, support the massive and extended fortifications, which sit on their rocky foundations, looking defiance at each other. Their shadows darken the sun-lighted waters, while the long streamers of moss which hang from the walls, remind you of the drooping banners of the conquered. Roumeli Hissan, the castle of Europe, which is also called

Bogus Kesea, or Cut-throat, presents a fine appearance. It has three large towers, and these with a smaller one near the sea form four Turkish characters, which compose the name of Mohammed II., by whom it was built.

Many points of interest must be omitted in this rapid sketch, and my return beneath the unclouded moon in an atmosphere of such transparency, that it seemed no longer night, but subdued daylight, must be left to the imagination of your readers. What will they think of me when I confess that one of the numerous cafés of the Bosphorus was the most agreeable sight which met my eyes, notwithstanding the peerless moon, the glittering stars, and the twinkling lights reflected in the clear waters; but the truth is, I was voraciously hungry. The long streams of light which illuminated the sea, directed the swift strokes of my kaidjis, and I was soon sipping delicious coffee from the tiny cups in which it is served in these establishments. No place of public traffic makes less pretension to elegance and luxury than a Turkish café. Those on the Bosphorus are raised on wooden piles, a few feet above the surface of the water. The platform thus supported is surrounded by a balustrade of lattice work, inclosing one small, low room, which is, however, shaded by vines and tufts of trees. They are generally quite open, though many of them combine the barber's occupation in their establishments; but the Turk has few ideas of privacy except as regards the harem.

He eats, drinks, sleeps, and smokes in the most public places, and is almost as regardless of the attention he may attract, as the Indian idols of the worship offered to them.

The interior of the café is furnished with a divan, upon which the frequenters of the place sit like monkeys, with a kind of ludicrous gravity about them. Shelves are arranged upon the walls, containing razors, basins, &c., rows of narghiles, of Bohemian glass or other material; while a furnace in one corner shows where the refreshing coffee is prepared under your very eyes.

In these places, too, the regulations in regard to pictures have been modified in some manner. The views of their favorite localities and public buildings hang side by side with the Emperors of Europe and

your republican President. I cannot say much for the decorative effect produced by these displays; I remember counting twenty pictures in one of the finest cafés of the city, for which a quarter of a dollar would certainly have been an extravagant price. The absence of intoxicating drinks from these places, with the decorum consequent among all the inmates, is one of the most agreeable features to the foreigner. The iced water, lemonade, and coffee, form a favorable contrast to the exciting stimulants which are furnished in the resorts for the lower classes of most other countries.

One of the earliest points of interest upon which I stumbled was the Grand Bazaar of Constantinople. My inflated ideas of the elegance of this great mart were very soon dispelled upon a personal inspection. It covers a sufficient extent of space to be a city of itself, comprising streets, squares, fountains, and passages, the whole surmounted by a vaulted roof, through which the softened light is admitted by round tunnel-shaped openings; whole streets of this inclosure are devoted to the sale of drugs, sacks of which lie about and are exposed in heaps upon the stalls, while the merchant sits impassibly smoking, and apparently absorbed with the fragrant fumes of his pipe. Other parts are occupied by the perfumers, and these fragrant quarters are generally thronged by the women, who seem very merry as they inhale the mingled sweets of the rose, the jessamine, or lavender, if we may judge by the constant peals of laughter echoing among them. Then there are the rich carpets of Persia, the silks of Broussa, shawls from Cashmere, mirrors, cutlery, porcelain, jewelry, curious and antique articles of gold and silver, shoes of every fantastic shape and ornament, draperies of the richest hues and material; in fact, almost every article of use or luxury which it is possible to imagine. The tobacconists and pipe dealers are of course well represented in this exposition of oriental commerce and industry. Of the former there are four principal qualities for the chiboque and cigarettes; the latter are becoming very generally used, especially by the women. The only kind of tobacco which is used for the narghila is brought from Persia, and it is called tombeki.

But the grand object of luxury in the