is much frequented by the Franks; and there is no stranger on a visit to the capital, who is not invited to see the Sweet Waters. The Illustration represents one of these festive meetings. On the right of the foreground is a group of Greek girls, dancing through the graceful mazes of the romaika, their unveiled faces and necks, and their neatly sandalled feet, forming a striking contrast to the yasmaks and slippered-boots of other Oriental females of the capital. In the background are companies engaged in various festivities, and embosomed in the trees; behind is seen the sultan’s kiosk, with a never-failing minaret peeping through the foliage. [Illustration: T. Allom. W. H. Capone. INTERIOR OF A TURKISH CAFFINET. CONSTANTINOPLE.] Many circumstances strike a stranger on entering Constantinople, and many objects different from those to which he has been accustomed in European Christian cities. Here are no straight spacious avenues, thronged with foot-passengers on the wide flags, and with carriages on the level centre; no names to the streets, to direct his way; no advertisements on walls; no women behind counters; no public places, for walking or amusement; no monuments displaying taste, or recording great men or actions; no libraries or news-rooms; no club-houses; no theatres, or public exhibitions; no hackney-coaches, cabs, omnibuses, sedan-chairs, or equipages of any kind, either public or private; no clocks on steeples or public buildings, indicating the hour of the day, nor bells announcing festivals or public rejoicings; no lamps to illume the city by night; no shops blazing with the glare of gas; no companies flocking to or from balls; or parties or public assemblies, of any kind, thronging the streets after night-fall, and making them as popular as at noon-day. On the contrary, he gets entangled in crooked, narrow, steep lanes, where the pavement is so imperfect that he is every minute in danger of breaking his leg between the loose angular stones. During the sunlight, the busy throng is nowhere to be seen but in the bazaars, or the avenues leading to them; and every other place seems totally deserted, except by dogs, who howl when he appears, and attack him in whole packs. The only equipage he sees is the sultan’s, going to some mosque on Friday, when the people congregate in the street through which he passes. The only carriages are women’s arrhubas, or kotches, which, generally speaking, cannot climb the steep and narrow streets. When they do appear, they are conveying, closely shut up, the harem of the sultan or some pasha, and then they are accompanied by black eunuchs with drawn sabres. Their approach is announced by the dead silence that suddenly pervades the busy din of a crowded thoroughfare: the moving mass of the people is suddenly arrested, and every man stands closely wrapped up in his beniche, with his arms folded on his breast, and his head cast down and turned away.