evenings at Metternich's, the same lounges the "disagreeables" of the voyage down the for making purchases and visits on a morn- Danube will be changed into agreeables, we ing, the same idleness and fatigue at night, shall allude no more to the noble traveller's the searching and arid climate, and the voyage than to say, that on the 4th of Noclouds of execrable fine dust,"-all con- vember, a day of more than autumnal beauspiring to tell the great of the earth that ty, his steamer anchored in the Bosphorus. they can escape ennui no more than the little. On leaving Vienna, he wrote a note of farewell to the prince, who returned an answer, of remarkable elegance-a mixture of the pathetic and playful. His note says that he has no chance of going to see anybody, for he is like a coral fixed to a rock-both must move together. He touches lightly on their share in the great war, "which is now becoming a part of those times which history itself names heroic ;" and concludes by recommending him on his journey to the care of an officer of rank, on a mission to Turkey-"Car il sçait le Ture, aussi bien que nous deux ne le sçavons pas." With this Voltairism he finishes, and gives his "Dieu protege." Here we were prepared for a burst of description. But the present describer is a matter-of-fact personage ;-and though he makes no attempt at poetic fame, has the faculty of telling what he saw, with very sufficient distinctness. "I never experienced more disappointment," is his phrase, "than in my first view of the Ottoman capital. I was bold enough at once to come to the conclusion, that what I had heard or read was overcharged. The most eminent of the describers, I think, could never have been on the spot." Such is the plain language of the last authority. "The entrance of the Tagus, the Bay of Naples, the splendid approach of the grand quays of St. Petersburg, the Kremlin, and the view of Moscow, all struck me as far preferable to the scene at the entrance of the Bosphorus." He admits, that in the advance to the city up this famous channel, there are many pretty views, that there is a line of handsome residences in some parts, and that the whole has a good deal the look of a "drop-scene in a theatre;" still he thinks it poor in comparison of its descriptions, the outline low, feeble, and rugged, and that the less it is examined probably the more it may be admired. Even the famous capital fares not much better. We now come to the Austrian steam passage. This is the boldest effort that Austria has ever made, and its effects will be felt through every generation of her mighty empire. The honor of originating this great design is due to Count Etienne Zecheney, a Hungarian nobleman, distinguished for every quality which can make a man a benefactor to his country. The plan of this steam-navigation is now about ten years old. The marquis justly observes, that nothing more patriotic was ever projected; and it is mainly owing to this high-spirited noble- " In point of fine architectural features, monman that the great advantage is now enjoyed of performing, in ten or twelve days, the journey to the capital of Turkey, which some years ago could be achieved only by riding the whole way, and occupying, by couriers, two or three weeks. The chief direction of the company is at Vienna. It had, at the time of the tour, eighteen boats, varying from sixty to one hundred horsepower, and twenty-four more were to be added within the year. Some of these were to be of iron. uments of art, and magnificent structures, (excepting only the great mosques), the chisel of the mason, the marble, the granite, Constantinople is more destitute than any other great capital. But then, you are told that these objects are not in the style and taste of the people. Be it so; but then do not let the minds of those who cannot see for themselves be led away by high-wrought and fallacious descriptions of things which do not exist." The maxim is a valuable one, and we hope that the rebuke will save the reading public from a heap of those "picturesque" labors, which really much more resemble the heaviest brush of the scene-painter, than the truth of nature. But the poverty of all foreign countries is a formidable obstacle to the progress of magnificent speculations like those. The shares have continued low, the company has had financial difficulties to encounter, and But if art has done little, nature has done the popular purse is tardy. However, the wonders for Constantinople. The site conprospect is improving; the profits have in-tains some of the noblest elements of beauty creased; and the Austrian archdukes and and grandeur; mountain, plain, forest, many of the great nobles having lately taken waters: its position is obviously the key of shares, the steam-boats will probably soon Europe and Asia Minor-even of more, it become as favorite as they are necessary. is the point at which the north and south But all this takes time; and as by degrees meet; by the Bosphorus it commands the done. communication of the Black Sea, and with water and the bridge, but also by the road, it of all the boundless region, once Scythia, which by the land is a distance of five or and now Russia and Tartary; by the Dar- six miles. Viewing Constantinople as a danelles, it has the most immediate com- whole, it strikes one as being larger by far mand over the Mediterranean, the most than Paris or London, but they are both important sea in the world. Russia, doubt- larger. The reason of the deception being, less, may be the paramount power of the that here the eye embraces a larger space. Black Sea; the European nations may di- The Turks never improve any thing. The vide the power of the Mediterranean; but distinction between them and the EuropeConstantinople, once under the authority ans is, that the latter think of conveniences, of a monarch, or a government adequate the former only of luxuries. The Turks, to its natural facilities, would be more for example, build handsome pavilions, plant directly the sovereign of both seas, than showy gardens, and erect marble fountains Russia, with its state machinery in St. to cool them in marble halls. But they Petersburg, a thousand miles off, or France never mend a high-road-they never even a thousand miles, or England more nearly make one. Now and then a bridge is two thousand miles. This dominion will forced on them by the necessity of having never be exercised by the ignorant, profli- one, or being drowned; but they never regate, and unprincipled Turk; but if an in- pair that bridge, nor sweep away the accudependent Christian power should be esta- mulated abomination of their streets, nor blished there, in that spot lie the materials do any thing that it is possible to leave un. of empire. In the fullest sense, Constantinople, uniting all the high-roads between east and west, and north and south, is the centre of the living world. We are by no means to be reckoned among the theorists who calculate day by day on the fall of Turkey. In ancient times the fall of guilty empires was sudden, and connected with marked evidences of guilt. But those events were so nearly connected with the fortunes of the Jewish people, that the suddenness of the catastrophe was essential to the lesson. The same necessity exists no longer, the Chosen People are now beyond the lesson, and nations undergo suffering, and approach dissolution, by laws not unlike those of the decadence of the human frame; the disease makes progress but the evidence searcely strikes the eye, and the seat of the distemper is almost beyond human investigation. The jealousy of the European powers, too, protects the Turk. But he must go down-Mahometanism is already decaying. Stamboul, its head-quarters, will not survive its fall; and a future generation will inevitably see Constantinople the sent of a Christian empire, and that empire, not improbably, only the forerunner of an empire of Palestine. The general view of Constantinople is superb. A bridge has been thrown across the "Golden Horn," connecting its shores; and from this the city, or rather the four cities, spread out in lengthened stateliness before the eye. From this point are seen, to the most striking advantage, the two mountainous elevations on which Constantinople and Pera are built, and other heights surrounding. A communication subsists across the "Golden Horn," not only by Pera is the quarter in which all the Christians, even of the highest rank, live: the intercourse between it and Constantinople is, of course, perpetual, yet perhaps a stone has not been smoothed in the road since the siege of the city. From Pera were the most harassing trips down rugged declivities on horseback, besides the awkwardness of the passage in boats. One extraordinary circumstance strikes the stranger, that but one sex seems to exist. The dress of the women gives no idea of the female form, and the whole population seems to be male. The masses of people are dense, and among them the utmost silence in general prevails. About seven or eight at night the streets are cleared, and their only tenants are whole hosts of growling, hideous dogs; or a few Turks gliding about with paper lanterns; these, too, being the only lights in the streets, if streets they are to be called, which are only narrow passes, through which the vehicles can scarcely move. The dogs are curious animals. It is probable that civilization does as much injury to the lower tribes of creation, as it does good to man. If it polishes our faculties, it enfeebles their instincts. The Turkish dog, living nearly as he would have done in the wilderness, exhibits the same sagacity, amounting to something of government. For instance, the Turkish dogs divide the capital into quarters, and each set has its own; if an adventurous or an ambitious dog enters the quarters of his neighbors, the whole pack in possession set upon him at once, and he is expelled by hue and cry. They also know how to con- the pipes. Then came a dropping fire of duct themselves according to times and conversation, then coffee; then sherbet, seasons. In the daytime, they ramble which the guest pronounced good, and about, and suffer themselves to be kicked "thought the most agreeable part of the with impunity; but at night the case is dif- ceremonial." The Minister spoke French ferent: they are the majority-they know fluently, and, after an hour's visit, the ceretheir strength, and insist on their privileges. mony ended-the pasha politely attending They howl and growl then at their own dis- his visiter through the rooms. The next cretion, fly at the accidental stranger with visit was to Achmet Pasha, who had been open mouths, attack him singly, charge him in England at the time of the Coronation-en masse, and nothing but a stout bludgeon, had been ambassador at Vienna for some wielded by a strong arm, can save the pas-years-spoke French fluently—was a great senger from feeling that he is in the king. dom of his four-footed masters. friend of Prince and Princess Metternich, and, besides all this, had married one of the The Marquis arrived during the Ramazan, Sultan's sisters. The last honor was said when no Turk eats, drinks, or smokes, from to be due to his immense wealth. It seems sunrise to sunset. Thus the Turk is a harder that the "course of true love" does not faster than the papist. The moment the sun run more smoothly in Turkey than else. goes down, the Turk rushes to his meal and where-for the young lady was stated to be his pipe, "not eating but devouring, not in love with the commander-in-chief, an inhaling but wallowing in smoke." At the older man, but possessing more character. Bajazet colonnade, where the principal Achmet was now Minister of Commerce, Turks rush to enjoy the night, the lighted and in high favor. He kept his young wife coffee-houses, the varieties of costume, the at his country house, and she had not been eager crowd, and the illumination of myri-seen since her marriage. When asked perads of paper lanterns, make a scene that revives the memory of Oriental tales. mission for ladies to visit her, he always deferred it "till the next spring, when," said he, "she will be civilized." The third nocturnal interview was more picturesque it was with the young Sultana's flame, the Seraskier (commander-in-chief). His residence is at the Porte, where he has one of the splendid palaces. Every thing in Turkey is unlike any thing in Europe. In the bazar, instead of the rapid sale and dismissal in our places of traffic, the Turkish dealer, in any case of value, invites his applicant into his shop, makes him sit down, gives him a pipe, smokes him into familiarity-hands him a "You enter an immense court, with his stables cup of coffee, and drinks him into confi- on one side and his harem on the other. A regi. dence; in short, treats him as if they were ment of guards was drawn up at the entrance, and a pair of ambassadors appointed to dine two companies were stationed at the lower court. and bribe each other-converses with, and The staircase was filled with soldiers, slaves, and cheats him. But the Marquis regards the attendants of different nations. I saw Greeks, bazars as contemptible places, says they native costume; and dark as were the corridors Armenians, Sclavonians, Georgians, in all their are not to be compared with similar estab- and entrance, by flashes of my flambeaux through lishments at St. Petersburg or Moscow, and the mist, the scene struck me as much more grand recommends whatever purchases are made, and imposing than the others. The Seraskier is to be made at one's own quarters, "where a robust, soldier-like man, with a fierce look and you escape being jostled, harangued, smok- beard, and an agreeable smile." ed, and poisoned with insufferable smells." One of the curious features of the sojourn at Constantinople, is the presentation to the Ministers and Sultan. Redschid Pasha appointed to see the Marquis at three o'clock, a la Turque-which, as those Orientals always count from the sunset, means eight o'clock in the evening. The Minister was peculiarly polite, and showed him through the rooms and the war department, exhibiting among the rest, his military council, composed of twenty-four officers, sitting at that moment. They were of all ranks, and chosen, as it was. said, without any reference to qualification, but simply by favor. The Turks still act He was led in a kind of procession to the as oddly as ever. A friend of the Marquis Minister, received in the customary man- told him, that he had lately applied to ner, and had the customary conversation the Seraskier to promote a young Turkish on Constantinople, England, the war, etc. officer. A few days after, the officer came Then, a dozen slaves entered, and universal to thank him, and said that though the Sesmoking began. "When the cabinet was raskier had not given him the command of so full of smoke that one could hardly see," a regiment, he had given him "the comthe attendants returned, and carried away mand of a ship." The true wonder is, that the Turks have either ships or regiments. | they end in giving her the full possession But there is a fine quantity of patronge in the department-the number of clerks alone being reckoned at between seven and eight hundred. The opinions of the Marquis on Mediterranean politics are worth regarding, because he has had much political experience in the highest ranks of foreign life-because from that experience he is enabled to give the opinions of many men of high name and living influence, and because he is an honest man, speaking sincerely, and speaking intelligibly. He regards the preservation of Turkey as the first principle of all English diplomacy in the east of Europe, and considers our successive attempts to make a Greek kingdom, and our sufferance of an Egyptian dynasty, as sins against the common peace of the world. Thus, within a few years, Greece has been taken away; Egypt has not merely been taken away, but rendered dangerous to the Porte; the great Danubian provinces, Moldavia and Wallachia, have been taken away, and thus Russia has been brought to the banks of the Danube. Servia, a vast and powerful province, has followed, and is more Russian than Turkish; and while those limbs have been torn from the great trunk, and that trunk is still bleeding from the wounds of the late war, it is forced to more exhausting efforts, the less power it retains. But, with respect to Russia, he does not look upon her force and her ambition with the alarm generally entertained of that encroaching and immense power. He even thinks that, even if she possessed Constantinople, she could not long retain it. As all this is future, and of course conjectural, we may legitimately express our doubts of any authority on the subject. That Russia does not think with the marquis, is evident, for all her real movements for the last fifty years have been but preliminaries to the seizure of Turkey. Her ezhibitions in all other quarters have been mere disguises. She at one time displays a large fleet in the Baltic, or at another sends an army across Tartary; but she . never attempts any thing with either, except the excitement of alarm. But it is in the direction of Turkey that all the solid advances are made. There she always finishes her hostility by making some solid acquisition. She is now carrying on a wasteful war in the Caucasus; its difficulty has probably surprised herself, but she still carries it on; and let the loss of life and the expenditure of money be what they will, she will think them well encountered if of the northern road into Asia Minor. Russia, in possession of Constantinople, would have the power of inflicting dreadful inju. ries on Europe. If she possessed a responsible government, her ambition might be restrained by public opinion; or the necessity of appealing to the national representatives for money-of all checks on war the most powerful, and in fact the grand operative check, at this moment, on the most restless of European governments, France. But with her whole power, her revenues, and her military means completely at the disposal of a single mind, her movements, for either good or evil, are wholly dependent on the caprice, the ambition, or the absurdity of the individual on the throne. The idea that Russia would weaken her power by the possession of Constantinople, seems to us utterly incapable of proof. She has been able to maintain her power at once on the Black Sea, seven hundred miles from her capital; on the Danube, at nearly the same distance, and on the Vistula, pressing on the Prussian frontier. In Constantinople she would have the most magnificent fortress in the world, the command of the head of the Mediterranean, Syria, and inevitably Egypt. By the Dardanelles, she would be wholly inaccessible; for no fleet could pass, if the batteries on shore were well manned. The Black Sea would be simply her wetdock, in which she might build ships while there was oak or iron in the north, and build them in complete security from all disturbance; for all the fleets of Europe could not reach them through the Bosphorus, even if they had forced the Dardanelles-that must be the operation of an army in the field. On the north, Russia is almost wholly invulnerable: the Czar might retreat until his pursuers perished of fatigue and hunger. The unquestionable result of the whole is, that Russia is the real terror of Europe. France is dangerous, and madly prone to hostilities; but France is open on every side, and experience shows that she never can resist the combined power of Russia and Germany. It is strong evidence of our position, that she has never ultimately triumphed in any war against England; and the experience of the last war, which showed her, with all the advantages of her great military chief, her whole population thrown into the current of war, and her banner followed by vassal kings, only the more consummately overthrown, should be a lesson to her for all ages. But Russia has never been effectually checked since the reign of Peter the Great, when she first began to move. Even disastrous wars have only hastened her advance; keen intrigue has assisted military violence; and when we see even the destruction of Moscow followed by the final subjugation of Poland, we may estimate the sudden and fearful superiority which she would be enabled to assume, with her foot standing on Constantinople, and her arm stretching at will over Europe and Asia. Against this tremendous result, there are but two checks-the preservation of the Osmanli government by the jealousy of the European states, and the establishment of a Greek empire at Constantinople: the former, the only expedient which can be adopted for the moment, but in its nature temporary, imperfect, and liable to intrigue: the latter, natural, secure, and lasting. It is to this event that all the rational hopes of European politicians should be finally directed. Yet, while the Turk retains possession, we must adhere to him; for treaties must be rigidly observed, and no policy is safe that is not strictly honest. But if the dynasty should fail, or any of those unexpected changes occur which leave great questions open, the formation of a Greek empire ought to be contemplated as the true, and the only, mode of effectually rescuing Europe from the most formidable struggle that she has ever seen. But the first measure, even of temporary defence, ought to be the fortification of Constantinople. It is computed that the expense would not exceed a million and a half sterling. The Marquis, by a fortunate chance for a looker-on, happened to be in the Turkish capital at the time when the populace were all exulting at the capture of Acre. It was admitted that the British squadron had done more in rapidity of action, and in effect of firing, than it was supposed possible for ships to accomplish, and all was popular admiration, and ministerial gratitude. In addition to the lighting of the mosques for the Ra mazan, Pera and Constantinople were lighted up, and the whole scene was brilliant. Constant salvos were fired from the ships, and batteries during the day, and at night, of course, all was splendid on the seven hills of the great city. On the "Seraskiers, Square" two of the Egyptian regiments taken at Beyrout defiled before the commander-in-chief. The Turkish bands in garrison moved at their head. The prisoners marched in file; and, having but just landed from their prison-ships, looked wretchedly. Having a red woollen bonnet, white jackets, and large white trowsers, they looked like an assemblage of "cricketers." The men were universally young, slight made, and active, with sallow cheeks, many near yellow, orange, and even black; still, if well fed and clothed, they would by no means make bad light troops. The Turks armed and clothed them forthwith, and scattered them among their regiments; a proceeding which shows that even the Turk is sharing the general improvement of mankind. Once he would have thrown them all into the Bosphorus. From this professional display, the Marquis adjourned to the "Grand Promenade," where the sultanas see the world, unseen themselves, in their carriages. "Though," as he writes, "I never had an opportunity of verifying any thing like Miss Pardoe's anecdote of the 'sentries being ordered to face about when presenting arms,' rather than be permitted to gaze on the tempting and forbidden fruit; but, on the contrary, witnessed soldiers escorting all the sultana's carriages; it is nevertheless true that a gruff attendant attacked and found fault with me for daring to raise my eyes to a beautiful Turkish woman, whom it was quite impos sible I could admire beyond her forehead and two black eyes, eyebrows, and lashes, which glanced from under her yashmack." But the Marquis has no mercy on the performances of poor Miss Pardoe. The sultan-mother was a personage of high importance at this time, from her supposed influence over her son. Her equipage was somewhat European-a chariot, with hammer-cloth (apparently recently receiv ed from long Acre). The coachman drove four large bay horses, with a plurality of reins. There were attendants, running Turks, and guards before to clear the way. Two open barouches, ornamented after the manner of the country, followed; and the rear of the sultana's procession was closed by arebas (or covered and gilded vans) full of women and slaves. But the most characteristic display of all is the " Cabinet." "On the side of this drive is a long colonnade of shops; and, at the bottom of it, a barber's, in which all the ministers of the divan and the pasha assemble! They sit on cushions in grand conclave and conference; and, while affecting to discuss the affairs of the state, the direction of their eyes, and their signs to the recumbent houris in the carriages, show their thoughts to be directed to other objects." What should we think of the chancellor, the premier, and the three secretaries of state, sitting in council at a fruiterer's in Regent street, and nodding to the ladies as they pass? But this is not all. The sultan, in his kiosk sits at one end of the drive, in |