ship and of love, as a medium of complimentary intercourse between patron and dependant, and form the last sad token of grief over the grave of a departed friend. The Padir shah distributes both flowers and fruits to his grandees and to foreign ministers, with such an unsparing hand that two officers of the seraglio are specially charged, one with the superintendence of fruits and the other of flowers. Happy is the mortal for, at least, a short period, to whom his majesty has deigned to order a few pots of flowers. The official bakshish is paid to the royal messenger with the greatest demonstration of pleasure, and the princely gift is arranged in such a manner that every one who enters may behold and envy the happy man. Strange as it may seem, even the mongrel breed of Periots, the representatives of all the majesty of Europe, and of more than all its imbecility, display the most childish desire to obtain these evidences of imperial consideration. An order, a title, or a riband, ridiculous as they appear to those who have learned to do without them, are scarcely more coveted than a few pots of flowers. I recollect walking upon the quay at Buyukdery one day, when a sudden and general exclamation of wonder among the numerous groupes assembled there attracted my attention. All eyes were riveted upon a royal barge which approached the spot, and the interest excited was scarcely less than if the commander of the faithful himself had appeared. The boat was conveying presents of flowers to some of the rival nobility. Windows were thrown open, houses were emptied of their inhabitants, and conjecture in every tongue of Europe and Asia exhausted itself, as to who would be the highly honoured recipient of royal favour. I do not recollect who it finally proved to be, but there is no doubt that it caused a sleepless night to all his brother diplomatists, and furnished for weeks a fruitful topic of discussion in the circles of Buyukdery. The favourite flowers among the Turks are the tulip, the rose, and the oleander. This latter

grows very luxuriantly here, and thrives in the open air during the whole year.

In a little excursion around the suburbs, which I made a few days since, in company with a gentleman who has been absent a year from Turkey, he expressed his surprise at the increased quantity of ground which had been put under cultivation during his absence. An attempt was made about two years since to introduce all the modern improvements of husbandry into Turkey: it was done at the expense of government, and failed, for the reasons which have been already stated. An English family was imported, and placed on a farm near the city. Disputes soon arose about their accommodations, their expenses, &c., and both parties separated in mutual disgust.

We returned by way of Tatavola, or St. Dametri, a village entirely inhabited by Greeks, and sustaining a very doubtful character on the score of morality. Descending a flight of steps, down a steep hill, we entered the low and dirty suburb of Cassim Pacha, in the rear of the arsenal. In several parts of this suburb the centre of the street is a deep open ditch, crossed by high bridges. These bridges are purposely constructed with a great elevation; for in dry weather the ditches are used as a road, and persons on horseback may then pass under the bridges with ease.

Happening to call upon one of the high functionaries of the government, we were shown sans ceremonie into his office, where he was eating his midday meal in company with several officers. They were partaking of a pilaf of fish and beans, and helped themselves out of the same dish with large wooden spoons. While we were there, a blind beggar was shown into the room; money was immediately handed to him, which he seemed to receive rather as his due than as alms, and immediately withdrew. There seems, indeed, to be a sort of republican equality between the richest and poorest Turk, an equality founded upon, and arising from, their religious creed, and kept up by their

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political system, which, unlike that of even the most liberal governments, disfranchises no one, and renders all alike eligible to the highest offices.

CHAPTER XLVIII.

Leave Constantinople-Passports-Hexamila-Parallel Roads-English Schooners-Dardanelles-Camels of the Pacha-Interior of the CastleLarge Guns-Hospital-Introduction to the Pacha.

AFTER a residence of several months in any place one naturally leaves it with regret, and in the present instance this regret is increased by the small probability that I shall ever see again those kind friends who have so materially contributed to render my residence agreeable.

Among the refinements of civilization, no American would ever dream that passports were included, and yet, strange to say, this onerous, useless, and absurd practice has been imported into Turkey; and recent European travellers have hailed it as one of the greatest improvements which have been introduced into the country. The system, however, does not seem to be understood; for although it is necessary to obtain a passport upon leaving the capital, yet the traveller may roam through the whole empire without being asked to produce it. Indeed, it may be doubted whether, in the provinces, they ever heard that such passports were required. During my whole residence I have travelled about the country alone, and never heard of their existence, but now that I am about to leave it, Captain John, a Levantine Greek, and of course a knave, who acts as interpreter and purveyor for foreign ships, tells me that a passport is necessary. As it costs about six cents, I thought it would be worth that amount to go through the

ceremony, in order to have a peep at the officials of a Turkish police office. It is a rich treat at any time to see the gravity with which a Turkish officer goes through his duty. The chief asked me what ship I intended to sail in, and his passport, as translated to me, conveyed the very correct and precise information, that an English gentleman, a particular friend of Captain John, was about to sail in an American ship, to London, and perhaps to the New World.

Having engaged a passage in an American merchant vessel, bound to Smyrna, we took leave of our friends, and getting on board, were soon carried by the current past Seraglio Point. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon the wind blew from the right quarter; and by sunset, the pointed minarets and proudly swelling domes gave us the last glimpse of fair Stambool. This wind was but of short duration; for a calm of two days' continuance only permitted us to reach Hexamila, on the Hellespont, where the Thracian peninsula is but six miles across. We could distinctly perceive across the peninsula, the mountains on the opposite side of the Gulf of Saros. The little town of Hexamila has retained the name which indicates its position,, while prouder and more highly favoured cities have either experienced a change of appellation, or exist only on the pages of history.

If the Turks were not the least enterprising people in Europe (with the exception perhaps of the Spaniards), the extreme narrowness of the Thracian peninsula would long since have suggested a canal or railroad from the Gulf of Saros to the Hellespont. This would save the tedious and inevitable delays to which vessels are exposed when attempting to pass the Dardanelles. Such a step would enable goods to be transported with great ease and expedition, from Adrianople by the Maritza, or ancient Hebrus, from Kishan, Cavelle, and Salonica; but here time is not money, and whether a passage from these places to Constantinople is made in one or three months seems scarcely to be worth taking into account.

Not far from this town is one of the largest tumuli I have ever seen, and if it be indeed, as some have guessed, the tomb of a hero, and his greatness is measured by the size of his tomb, the people buried on the plains of Troy, the Ajaxes and Achilles and Hectors, must have been but small-fry in comparison with this Thracian denigod or hero.

In the neighbourhood of Gallipoli the hills are of moderate elevation, and the most inattentive observer can hardly fail to notice a series of natural terraces, similar to those described as the parallel roads of Glentilt in Scotland; these terraces, if we recollect aright, are sometimes six in number, and nearly equidistant from each other. Above Sestos, they are slightly inclined; but below, are parallel with the level of the Dardanelles. Their formation is doubtless to be attributed to the successive sudden lowering of the level of the channel by some convulsion of nature, and the volcanic appearance of the hills inland strengthens this opinion. The same agency is sufficient to explain why some parts of these natural terraces have been deranged from their original position.

The winds are extremely irregular and baffling in the Dardanelles, as we shortly had an opportunity of witnessing. We were slowly fanning along with all our studdingsails set, while a mile below vessels were advancing towards us before the wind; their breeze carried the day, and we were compelled to drop anchor abreast of Lampsaki. In the evening the solitary minaret of Lampsaki was gayly illuminated in honour of some religious festival which is to be celebrated to-morrow. The Turkish Sabbath, as I have before remarked, like that of the Jews, and some sects of Christians, commences with the setting sun of the preceding day. Gallipoli also showed her illuminated minarets, as well as the little village of Cardaki, or Chardak, opposite, and the sparkling effect over the glassy surface of the Hellespont, combined with the perfect stillness of the evening, the profound silence on shore, uninterrupted except