quences; but the exposed individual throws himself with electrical quickness out of the line of the djerid, or, to your still greater astonishment, diverts it with a motion of his weapon. The whole company soon appear in the utmost confusion, while each is pursuing, or flying from his adversary, darting to the right or left, or falling on the mane of his foaming steed, to escape the shafts which are now flying around in every direction. The squadrons now assume their original positions; when a few, the most eminent and practised at the sport, take the arena, while the fatal aim and the unexpected escape equally awaken the plaudits of the spectators. To our pleasurable surprise on this occasion, no serious injury occurred to any of the combatants, though, as we were informed, the amusement seldom passes off without some tragical incident. The Turkish ladies, if allowed to appear unveiled, would undoubtedly witness these sports; their presence would enhance the interest, and perhaps soften down some of the wilder fea

tures.

The Burned Column, so called from the blackening effect of the frequent conflagrations that have happened near it, is another relic to which the stran ger pays the tribute of a passing glance. It stands in lofty and solitary grandeur at a slight remove from the At-meidan, and though reared of porphyry the elegance and durability of its materials betray the rude visitations of time and flame. It is no lon

ger the monument that rose in fearless splendor to the exulting eye of Constantine. The wreaths of laurel, so richly wrought from the precious metals that encircled it, have disappeared; and the statue of Apollo, that once crowned its summit in stateliness and beauty, has long since descended to the earth, under the fiercer stroke of the lightning: but enough remains still to call up the memory of that noble Being in whom piety and refinement mingled their divinest charms.

In the court of a private house, near the bath of Ibrahim Pasha, we were shown the colossal pillar of granite which Tatianus erected to the Emperor Marcian, in grateful acknowledgment of his obligations in being appointed to the governorship of the capital. Tatianus, it appears, had seen an eagle brooding over Marcian, sheltering him from the scorching sun, when he had lain down in the field and fallen asleep from the weariness of the chase, and predicted from this omen his future elevation to the imperial dignity. The slumberer ultimately gained the coronet, and the prophet went not without his reward. Adulation was then, what it is now, the highway to preferment. A courtier flatters his prince, and becomes a privy counsellor; a demagogue inflames the rabble, and becomes its idol. Both may despise the means they employ, and gain, at no little expense of feeling, the reward of their self-degradation. But every man, with the exception

perhaps of one in a thousand, ambitious of place, has his price. Nor would I make even this exception, but for the restraints of pride, and a fear of the significant finger of scorn.

But the existence of the Marcian pillar at this day would probably have been unknown to the world, but for the researches of Spon and Wheeler. It is much to be regretted that the efforts of inquisitive travellers have so seldom disturbed the dust of Constantinople. Beneath the fabrics of the incurious Turk, undoubtedly repose some of the richest remains of ancient art. But they will ever lie where they now rest, unless disinhumed by foreign hands. Their development would be attended by no very serious obstacles in the dispositions of those who dwell above them; for a few piasters would purchase permission to sift every thing that belongs to a Turk, save his harem and his grave. Touch the first, and you will not live long enough to sign your testament; or put a spade near the latter, and you might as well be digging your own grave or knelling the death-dirge of your obsequies.

CHAPTER IV.

City Fountains-Artificial Lakes-Subterranean Structures-Appearance of Bazars-Merchandise of the East-Habits of the Females-Sister of the Sultan-Khans of the City-Turkish BathSale of a Georgian-Condition of a purchased Girl.

THE frequent ablutions which the Koran enjoins, render the Turks peculiarly solicitous on the subject of water. The copious use of this element is blended with the most vital principles of their religion. They regard the construction of a reservoir or fount as an act of meritorious piety; and the dying often seek in this form to cancel the crimes of a vicious life. These fountains are, among the first objects which excite the attention and admiration of the stranger in visiting the capital; they occupy the most conspicuous places, are generally constructed of fine marble, and are often richly gilt.

As the soil of the city is extremely barren of springs, nearly the whole supply of water is brought through tiled aqueducts from bendts, or tanks, in the mountains, near the shores of the Black Sea. These high places are the regions of frequent showers and springs, whose copious tribute is confined and preserved in a number of glens, by casting a permanent mound across their deep channel. The water thus thrown back forms a pellucid lake; trees

are thickly planted around it; the mound is covered with marble, and the whole becomes an object of magnificent beauty. It is death for a man to injure the mound, maim one of the trees, or take water from the bendts. On our excursion to Belgrade, we visited several of these woodland reservoirs: they afford a distant, but fresh and wholesome retreat from the dusty atmosphere of the city, and among any people of less indolent habits than the Turks they would become favorite resorts. But the silence of their green shade is now seldom broken, except by the song of the early bird and the footsteps of the passing pilgrim.

These bendts are not indebted for their design or construction to the ingenuity or industry of the Mussulmen. They originated in the provident wisdom of the Greek emperors when the increased population of the city rendered a greater supply of water necessary. The same commendable foresight was also the source of the vast cisterns which, though now in ruins, are still objects of admiring wonder. Of these costly capacious structures but two remain, that can convey any adequate idea of their original vastness and splendor. One of these is now dry, and partially filled with earth, but it still presents the spreading arch of its dome, sustained by six hundred marble columns, each column consisting of three, rising one above the other. It has the appearance of a superb subterranean temple, and there