The circumstance which most strongly impresses a traveller in visiting these ancient theatres, is the dismal contrast presented by their first and present state. These crowded scenes of life and enjoyment are now the most dismal and desolate spots among the ruins; they seem to be the place to which every thing that is foul and venomous repair, attracted perhaps by the shelter and concealment their more perfect state affords. “The busy hum of men” is exchanged for the serpent’s hiss and the eagle’s scream−-the crowded seats “Are now the raven’s bleak abode, Are now the apartment of the toad.” Snakes are everywhere seen gliding through the rubbish, or rustling among the thicket of shrubs that grow among them. Their exuviæ are found deposited in every crevice, and the alarmed traveller starts back, supposing that to be a living reptile, which he finds is only the spotted skin from which the renovated serpent had extricated itself, and just left behind. Jackals and wolves drag here their prey, as to a congenial spot, to devour them; and vultures, “scenting their murky quarry from afar,” are heard screaming in the air, and seen hovering over the carcase, ready to alight, and snatch it from their rapacious rivals. Such is the almost universal aspect that every ancient theatre we have visited presents to the traveller. [Illustration: T. Allom. J. Sands. THE PRINCESS’ ISLANDS. FROM MONASTERY OF THE TRINITY/PRINKIPO IN THE MIDDLE DISTANCE.] The two straits by which Constantinople is approached, are marked at their entrance by clusters of islands. The traveller, before he enters the Dardanelles, passes through the Cyclades; as he approaches the Bosphorus, he finds himself among a similar group, forming an Archipelago in the Propontis, if not so extensive, yet still more lovely than that in the Egean. The Cyclades of the Propontis was anciently called Demonesca, or the “islands of spirits;” but under the Lower Empire they assumed another denomination. Irené, the widow of Fl. Leo, had put out the eyes of her son, in order that she herself might reign in his place; for this she was banished by his successor, to these islands; and, having built a monastery on one of them, to atone for her guilt, and erected edifices where females of the imperial family were educated, the group was called, therefore, after her, the “Princes’ Islands.” They are nine in number, of different sizes, and are distinguished by Greek names, indicating some peculiarity of each.[5] The four smaller are uninhabited; they lie between the European and Asiatic coasts, about 10 miles from each, and the same distance from the mouth of the Bosphorus; and to the houses of the streets built on the eminences, both of Pera and Constantinople, exhibit a picturesque and striking prospect.